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python333 · 1 year ago

Note

hi! i’m not sure if you’re taking requests atm but if you aren’t feel free to ignore this!

anyways, i was thinking what would it be like if you were back on base and did something nice for everyone and made their fave coffee/tea while you’re all relaxing after a long mission? like how would the 141 react and what would you make for them?

that’s all but i hope you have a great day and i absolutely love your writings!! they seriously are so detailed and amazing, you do a beautiful job w each one💌

unwind — python333

— — — —

synopsis the 141 + you are back from a super long mission and u make them their fave coffee/tea!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

word count 3.6k

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], gaz being a little shit.

note thank you so much for the req!! i am taking them right now, but apologies if i post them 2+ days after i get them, my writers block is slowly creeping back into my mind and im fighting it off the best i can! also, thank you for the compliments :3 ilysm youre too nice!! i saw ur reblog of bedbound too and i was so sjdfksdfks!! hope u have a good day too and hope you enjoy this fic, it's all fluff and way too in depth descriptions of making tea/coffee!!

As soon as the electric kettle clicks, signaling to you that the water inside of it has been boiled, you unplug it and pour the water into a mug you’d pulled from the cabinets. It still surprised you that there were any mugs left, with how many people kept stealing to put on their desk to hold pencils—by people, you mean Soap, and only Soap—but you weren’t complaining.

You set the kettle back down once the mug is filled up just an inch below the brim and grab the tea bag you’d grabbed earlier, wrapping the string around the handle of the mug a few times before putting the bag itself into the water. Almost immediately, you see small tendrils of dark brown flow out from the drowned tea bag into the originally clear water.

As that happens, you walk the small few steps over to the small fridge from the kettle and open it, grabbing the small carton of cream and closing the fridge shut. You walk back over to the mug and unscrew the cap of the carton, pouring some cream into the mug, adding a half inch of height to the liquid already in the mug before screwing the cap back on and setting the carton down.

You don’t bother to grab a spoon and mix anything yet, instead reaching over to the small terracotta container beside the coffee machine that contained sugar, and taking off the lid.

You think for a moment if you should grab a spoon for this, but ultimately decide against it, instead just tipping the container over the mug and letting what you hope is two teaspoons of sugar spill over into the mug.

Afterwards, you put the lid back on the container holding the sugar and set it back next to the coffee machine, and grab the cream to put back into the fridge.

Once the cream’s been put back, you open the drawers in the counter and grab a small spoon, one that’s just tall enough that it won’t be fully submerged in the tea, and put it into the mug.

You close the drawer and give the tea a few stirs before picking up the mug, being careful of the scalding heat and holding it solely by its handle. You carefully walk out of the snack bar extension of the kitchen and head towards Price’s office.

After a year or two of working with him, you’ve learned a lot about his tea preferences—he likes Yorkshire tea, the original one, not the gold. He only likes cream and sugar in his coffee, just to make it smoother and make it a bit sweeter, but doesn’t like it too sweet.

You vaguely remember him telling you he’d never had honey or any other sweeteners besides a bit of sugar in his tea, and remember more vividly you thinking, God, that’s such an old person thing to say, but not saying it out loud.

Once you’ve reached his office, you knock a few times and Price’s tired voice calls out, “Come in!”

You open the door, careful to keep the mug from spilling in your hands, and walk in, closing the door behind you. Price looks up from his computer, presumably writing a report on the mission you’d all just come back from an hour or two ago, and offers a small smile when he sees you. He’s about to say something before he catches sight of the mug in your hands.

“Did you…” He doesn’t finish his question, but you know what he was about to ask, and you nod in response.

“If it’s too sugary let me know,” You tell him, setting the mug down a safe distance away from his computer, “I can remake it.”

“I won’t make you remake it,” Price looks at you, almost offended, “You didn’t have to make me anything in the first place, but thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” You hum, walking away, saying over your shoulder, “Hope you like it.”

You open the door without another word and walk out, closing it behind you, heading right back to the snack bar. Now for Soap.

Soap typically preferred coffee to tea, despite tea’s popularity in Scotland. He’d told you that he really couldn’t taste the difference between different coffee blends, but upon hearing that there was a Scottish blend, he declared he’d only drink that one, because of course he did.

He pretended he could tell if the coffee he was drinking was of that Scottish blend, but you knew he couldn’t. How did you know? You’d only ever given him Scottish roast once. Every other time since then, it’s been French roast.

He’s never really used a coffee machine for himself, going to cafes or coffee shops most of the time for coffee, keeping his usual coffee order written in his notes app because he couldn’t remember it for the life of him.

He’d sometimes modify his order if certain coffee shops didn’t do certain things that he usually got, but his order stays mostly the same every time he gets coffee. Medium (or grande, if he’s at Starbucks) latte with a double shot of espresso.

Typically, he’d get some shortbread too, but you didn’t really have any in the base, so he’d have to do without it today.

Once you enter the snack bar, you grab another mug from the cabinets above the counter and place it under the coffee machine. You open the cabinets right by the ones that contained the mugs and grab a bag of ground French roast, pulling it out and putting it on the counter.

You open it up and find that there’s conveniently already a small cup in there to scoop the coffee grounds up, and use your free hand to grab a new coffee filter from the same cabinets you got the coffee grounds from, swiftly putting it into the machine.

You use your other hand to scoop up some coffee grounds and put them into the filter, closing the top of the coffee machine afterwards and turning on the machine. You’re grateful there’s more options listed on the small digital screen that lights up on the machine than just plain black coffee, not really in the mood to try and steam milk right now.

You tap on the ‘latte’ option and watch as the screen changes and hear the coffee machine start to whir.

As it does that, you put away the coffee grounds and open up the cabinets that contained mugs once again, pulling out a small espresso glass and setting it onto the counter.

You wait patiently for the coffee to brew, and once you hear the small beep sound from the machine that signals that it’s done, you pull away the steaming hot coffee and set it down right next to the coffee machine.

You quickly put the espresso glass under the machine and start it up again, this time tapping the ‘espresso shot’ option—surprised that’s even an option, honestly—and hearing the familiar whirring noise start up again. It doesn’t take nearly as long as brewing the latte did, the small beep coming much sooner than it did just a minute or two earlier, and you pull away the small espresso glass from the machine almost immediately after you hear it.

You pause for a moment, looking at how much the latte part had filled up the mug, and look around for a moment before opening up the same drawer that contains the eating utensils and grabbing a straw, putting the straw in the still hot latte—is that a good idea? No. Did you do it anyway because you physically can’t think before you act? Absolutely—and taking a long sip of it.

You pull the straw out once the liquid in the mug is at a good inch below the brim and then pour in the espresso shot, setting the glass down after you do so.

You look around for a second for a trash bin and find one just a few steps away from you, quickly throwing out the straw you’d used and then walking back over to the empty espresso glass, picking it up and setting it down by the sink. God forbid we get a dishwasher in here or something, You think absentmindedly as you pick up the mug and carefully walk out of the snack bar with it, Would it hurt to at least get some dish soap in here or something?

You make it out of the snack bar without burning your fingers and start the much longer walk to Soap’s sleeping quarters. You’d caught him walking out of his office in that direction earlier, so you can only assume that he’d gone there.

Once you make it there, you knock on the door a few times and wait for Soap to call out to you and allow you to come in before twisting the door knob and opening the door. He’s laying on his back on his bed, thumb paused on his phone screen as he looks over at you as you enter. He notices the coffee and sits up a bit, grunting as he does.

He wasn’t really as talkative after long missions like the one you’d all been on earlier—usually it took him a day or two to be more social and back to himself, so you didn’t take much offense to him not greeting you as loudly as he usually did.

He nods at the coffee, “Is that for me?”

“Mhm,” You hum, handing him the mug, “Be careful, it’s hot.”

“Got it,” Soap carefully takes the mug into his hands, and softly blows on it before looking at you again and grinning at you, “Weel, thank ye for this. Ye really didnae hae tae.”

“Price actually said the same thing,” You muse, almost to yourself, before speaking a little louder, “No problem.”

“Oh did he?” Soap asks, raising an eyebrow, before his expression shifts and he feigns confusion, “Wait, how come he got a drink afore me?”

“Because his office was closer to the snack bar,” You explain, crossing your arms.

“… Nae, it’s definitely ‘cause ye hate me,” Soap disagrees, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “And tae think I thought we were friends.”

“It is no— you know what?” You begin to argue, before sighing and rolling your eyes, “I do hate you, and we were never friends, you ungrateful piece of shit.”

Soap laughs, quieter than he usually does but it’s still a genuine laugh. He looks down at the coffee again and back at you, before saying, “Thank ye. Again.”

“No problem,” You replied, walking back towards the door and opening it, walking out of Soap’s sleeping quarters and closing the door behind you. Now for Ghost.

Ghost typically liked tea more than coffee, but you think that’s just the British in him talking. Realistically, you could give him either or, and he’d say a polite ‘thank you’ and move on.

From years of being apart of the 141, any preferences or additives he liked to put in his tea or coffee slowly dissipated and instead he just drank either one plain. Which should make the tasks you’ve forced yourself to do today easier, but knowing you, you just couldn’t take the easy route with this.

You remember a conversation with him that happened several months ago where you had been talking about your own tea and coffee preferences. Ghost had commented that he didn’t often put any additives in his own hot drinks anymore, but back before he’d joined the military, he liked to drink keemun tea occasionally with nutmeg in it.

Keemun tea—which was fucking expensive by the way, costing around sixteen pounds for twenty tea bags in every store you could find them in—wasn’t too hard to find, so the next time you went on leave after that conversation, you’d bought a box of bags of keemun tea leaves and some ground nutmeg.

You didn’t let Ghost know about it, and kind of forgot about it just a week after you bought it, but now the memory of you buying it and storing it in the snack bar behind a few other boxes of tea bags has resurfaced and it’s the only thing you think is appropriate to give Ghost at a time like this.

You get back to the snack bar and almost robotically you pull a mug out from the cabinets above the counter and set it down on said counter, deciding to grab another one just so that you wouldn’t have to do it later, and setting that one down right next to the other. You open the cabinet beside that and move some of the boxes out of the way to find the keemun tea box in the very back, right where you last left it.

You snatch it out of the cabinet and open it, pulling out a small packet and opening it up to pull out the tea bag inside. You go ahead and put the tea bag inside of the mug and put the tea box back in the cabinet, closing the small cabinet door afterwards.

You then grab the electric kettle that’s right by the sink and pop open the lid, putting it under the faucet and turning said faucet on, waiting until the water fills a quarter of the kettle. Once it does, you turn off the faucet and put the kettle down right by the outlet on the wall.

You put the lid down and wait for it to click into place before you plug the kettle into the outlet and press the small button below the handle to turn it on, and listen as it starts to make a small whirring noise. You don’t waste too much time just standing there, waiting for the water to finish boiling, instead putting the other mug you’d pulled out from the cabinets under the coffee machine and turning it on.

You tap on the ‘decaf flat white’ option and watch the digital screen change and another whirring sound starts up, now coming from the coffee machine.

You were starting to make Gaz’s while making Ghost’s drink because Gaz often made the mistake of drinking his coffee before it was cool enough to not burn his tongue, so if you made it earlier, it’d have more time to cool, and Gaz wouldn’t have to wait as long before drinking it, therefore solving the whole ‘burning-his-tongue-because-he’s-impatient’ problem he has.

Gaz liked simple flat whites, and sure, he liked tea too, but nothing could top a good flat white for him. He’d get them anywhere and everywhere he can, and you honestly admire his dedication to getting a flat white everywhere he goes.

The coffee machine finished up quickly, a small beep sounding from the machine as it stopped its whirring and a few more drops of coffee made it into the mug before it completely stopped. You pull the mug out from under the machine and set it aside for now, just waiting for the water to finish boiling in the kettle.

Once the kettle clicks and the whirring from that machine stops, you unplug it and pour some water into the empty mug you’d picked out for Ghost, waiting until it’s filled up about a half inch below the brim of the mug before taking the kettle away from the mug and pouring the rest of the unused water into the sink.

You set the kettle down beside the coffee machine where it belongs and check the drawer below the one that held the eating utensils, looking through some of the spices and drink additives in it before finally finding the ground nutmeg you needed.

You unscrew the cap and tilt the small spice jar over the mug, letting some of the powder spill into the mug before tilting it back and screwing the cap back on. You put it back in its spot and close that drawer, now opening the drawer above it and grabbing a small spoon, closing that one after you’ve grabbed the spoon and putting the spoon into the mug to mix the spices in it around a bit.

You leave Gaz’s mug on the counter, hoping that nobody steals it while you’re away, and instead pick up the mug meant for Ghost, carefully walking out of the snack bar with it.

Ghost’s office is fairly far away, but you still manage to get there without burning your fingers or anything on the mug. You knock on the door a few times and wait for Ghost to call out permission for you to come in before you open the door and walk in.

Ghost immediately looks over at you and spots the mug in your hand, but ignores it for now, instead opting to ask, “Did you need something, [c/n]?”

“Not really,” You shrugged the best you could while holding scalding hot tea, “Just needed to give you this.”

You set the mug down on Ghost’s desk before he can say another word, and watch as he eyes the mug with curiosity and confusion.

“What’s this?” He asks, carefully picking up the mug, holding the top up to his nose to smell it. Before you can answer his question, you see his eyes widen and he questions a little louder, “Is this… keemun? With nutmeg?”

“You can tell just from the smell?” You ask, mildly impressed, watching as Ghost’s gaze turns into one more in awe of the mug.

“Yes, I can,” He mumbles, smelling the brim of the mug again, before looking over at you, “How did you know I liked keemun with nutmeg in it?”

“You told me about it, like, a few months ago. Six months ago, maybe? I dunno.”

“How do you remember a conversation from six months ago?”

“It was an important conversation, I guess?” You shrug, crossing your arms.

You watch in silence as Ghost eyes the tea and you take that as your sign to leave, walking towards the door, stopping right in front of it to twist the knob to open it before you’re interrupted by Ghost.

“Wait—” You turn your head and look at him over your shoulder, and immediately upon seeing his face, you think, oh my God is he tearing up? “Thank you, [c/n]. I really appreciate it.”

You offer a small smile and reply, “Yeah, no problem. Enjoy your tea.”

You open the door without another word and close it behind you, taking a deep breath before continuing down the hall back to the snack bar.

You’re relieved when you get there and see the mug, still steaming a bit, still on the counter. You quickly walk over to it and pick it up, walking right back out the door with it and heading straight for Gaz’s sleeping quarters. You remember him being so tired from the mission—you don’t know whether to hope he’s asleep and getting some rest, or to hope that he’s awake so you can properly hand him his coffee.

Once you make it to his sleeping quarters, you knock on the door, and there’s no response for a few moments, making you think he might actually be asleep, but then you hear Gaz’s drowsy voice call out, “You can come in!”

You open the door and see him rubbing the sleep from his eyes and sitting up on his bed, looking over at you. His lips twitch up into a small smile once he sees you and he lets his hand drop into his lap.

“Hey, [c/n].” He looks over at the mug you’ve brought with you, before raising an eyebrow, “You brought something for me?”

“Very bold of you to assume it’s for you,” You close the door behind you and walk closer to him, “But yes, it is.”

Gaz perks up a bit at that and happily takes the mug off of your hands once you hand it to him, and his smile grows significantly bigger once he sees you’ve brought him a flat white.

“It’s decaf, don’t worry,” You say, as if reading his mind, “I figured you’d still want some sleep after drinking it.”

“Always so considerate,” Gaz sighs teasingly, raising the mug to his lips like you’d thought he would. Thankfully, his tongue doesn’t burn this time after he sips the coffee, and you let out a small sigh of relief at the fact.

“You know me,” You respond dryly, crossing your arms as you watch Gaz take a few more sips of the coffee.

“Thank you for this, by the way,” Gaz thanks you, taking another sip of the coffee before stating, “I hope you know you’re my favorite now.”

“Your favorite what?”

“Just my favorite, in general,” Gaz hums, “This is the best flat white I’ve ever drunk. Ten out of ten.”

“Thanks,” You thank him flatly, “It was made with love and a coffee machine I learned how to use yesterday.”

“I can just taste the love in it.”

“Not the coffee machine?”

“Well, it’s a bit concerning if someone can taste the coffee machine in their coffee, innit?” Gaz raises an eyebrow at you before taking another sip of his coffee.

“Not if it’s the one I used.”

“Whatever you say,” Gaz mutters, taking yet another sip of his coffee, making you huff out a small laugh.

“You enjoy your coffee,” You say before walking back over to the door, closing the door behind you as you walk out and letting out a tired breath, starting to head back to your own sleeping quarters.

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milkypompon · 7 months ago

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Chapter 1 | Midnight Musings

pairing: Marc Spector x Reader (implied Steven Grant x Reader, implied Jake Lockley x Reader)

summary: Even after a year living with Steven and Jake in the headspace, Marc struggles to quiet the buzzing chatter. He finds himself frequenting Coffee for Two, a place where brewing roasts fill the air and the cookies are as sweet as the barista.

content: coffeeshops, fluff, innuendo (thanks to Jake), poor shy and tired Marc who just needs his drink

wc: 1.2k

a/n: HELLO Moon Knight luvers!! I'm sweeping out this fic since I've had it around for some bit!

Moon Knight Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Coffee Doodles Masterlist

< Previous || Next >

—

Working the closing shift has its disadvantages… and occasional perks.

People weave in and out of the café from the crack of dawn, then scurry away when the moon is at its highest. Rarely did they stay to settle down on the rickety chairs late into the night, ever so eager to drag themselves home after a long day.

You hardly remember the customers’ faces, usually down-turned with a sour look of annoyance on their phones who impatiently tap their shoe on the wooden floors.

The man in front of you with waves of hair swept back to reveal his gruff demeanor, albeit a ruggedly handsome one, wasn’t any different from the others. Yet, you try to catch his eye as he sends a text.

“You work the late hours like me?” You ask and crack a smile, immediately regretting it after realizing how wry it must’ve appeared from your exhaustion.

He merely grunts in confirmation.

You clear your throat and idly tap your fingers on the granite countertop. “What can I get for you then?”

“Just a cup of coffee. Make it black.” He retrieves a leather wallet from his jacket pocket and pulls out a few quid in exchange for the kick of energy he desperately needs.

“Your name?”

“Marc.”

You whisper his name to yourself before reaching beside you to grab a paper cup and scrawling it on there.

Marc watches you catch your bottom lip between your teeth in fierce concentration as you doodle a smiley face next to his name. He wonders if you did this for every customer or if it was a way to keep yourself awake.

Before you made your last mark, you saw him through your peripheral vision staring at you intently. Usually, customers appreciate the little pick-me-up from the drawings you made. You inwardly wince for holding him up. “Sorry, you must be in a hurry”. You quickly cap the pink Sharpie and toss it into a small ceramic pot filled with other writing utensils.

Marc notes how some were more appropriate or journaling, like the bright glitter pens, than for work. But it was well-loved all the same since it was nearly flatlining from use.

“I’ll have it out for you in a minute.”

He shook his head, the black locks of curls bouncing slightly. “No rush, really.”

You situate yourself behind the coffee machine, tinkering with the buttons and opening the wrinkled bag of coffee beans. The warm scent permeates the air, even more so when the brown liquid dribbles into the cup. You quietly sigh in relief at the simplicity of the process. You’ve had a fair share of blended and iced drinks often brought back to the counter by unamused customers, claiming that it didn’t taste the same as last week even though there was a clear-cut recipe list plastered in front of your face when you made their orders.

You carefully fiddle the cap over the cup and hand it to Marc with a tired smile.

Marc felt your fingers brush along his. It was warm, but he wasn’t sure if it was just from the coffee. Regardless, he nodded in thanks and was soon swallowed by the darkness as he left to sip his coffee at nearly 1 a.m.

The London weather constantly nipped at his fingertips.

He curses under his breath and shoved his free hand into his jacket pocket. He longed to settle back into his flat and curl up into layers of blankets, which was truthfully a sorry excuse for warmth because of the godawful heater he just couldn’t find the time to fix. His mind drifted to your touch, it was light, brief if anything. But it sparked a warmth that a blanket or a cup of coffee couldn’t quite satiate.

A snarky voice filled his headspace, Fuckin’ touch starved.

Marc rolled his eyes. Shut your damn mouth, Lockley.

He crosses the road, not bothering to look left or right, there’s only him, the moon, and some bloke smoking a dying cig by a closed convenience store. When he squints he saw Steven picking at the loose threads of his shirt in the window.

Quite a looker with a pretty voice.

Marc sighs in response, Not you too.

He takes one last gulp at the bitter drink before raising it over the tin can filled with other rubbish. The streetlamp’s yellowish light caught your handiwork on the cup, his name with half a smiley face messily written with your pink Sharpie. He chuckled at the unfinished doodle, remembering how your eyes widened when you realized he was watching you closely.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, Steven remarked.

Marc chuckles at his words.

–

It was another closing shift.

You begrudgingly accepted it from your coworker who reminded you with a smirk that the pastries behind the glass was up for grabs the moment you flipped the “closed” sign by the window. Anyone with half a mind would have sticky hands for the chocolate croissant dusted with powdered sugar. Just the thought of warming it up in the oven toaster as you wipe the counters and stocked the shelves with mugs made you a little hungry.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to be eating sweet treats considering the time, but said sweet treats were going straight into the rubbish-bin if you didn’t house them in your stomach.

You happily hum a familiar tune you heard on the tube while sliding the glass door separating you and your beloved reward for the hard work.

A pleasant jingle of a bell rang over the front door abruptly ending your monotonous tasks.

You toss your head over your shoulder. “Sorry, we’re closed—”

The same man (Marc, was it?) nods down in apology for entering after hours. He truly was a man of few words.

“Oh! It’s you. I was afraid you were a customer with a complicated drink coming in at the last second.” You dusted your fingers down the seams of your apron and beckoned him inside. “But, it’s the same as last night?”

Marc runs his fingers through the tufts of his curls, the strands wrapping around each finger. You wondered what it felt like. The thought in passing rises to the forefront of your mind. It left as quickly as it came when you hear him call your name after reading it across the embroidered stitching of your apron.

The corners of his mouth turn up in amusement, hardly an exchange for pleasantries, but it was more than what he’d given before. He slides a few quid on the counter. “Yeah, coffee. Black.”

You pluck your pink Sharpie and begin to write his name on it. After a few quiet moments of gurgling from the machine, you hand the cup to him.

He furrows his eyebrows.

You quip with a grin. “Did I manage to mess up the easiest order known to man?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“You didn’t draw on it this time.”

You almost laugh but the serious crease on his face was a testament to his genuine disappointment. “Well it wouldn’t be very good service if I didn’t complete my job, eh?”

His eyes shift to the glass covering the pastries as if seeing something you couldn't. “You wanna talk about good service?” A playful lilt tugs at his voice, almost unfamiliar.

Before you can respond, he mumbles a thank you and scurries out of the cafe.

Did he just flirt? And… get embarrassed?

I'd love to hear your thoughts and my inbox is always open for requests or if you want to chat!

#Moon knight #Marvel #Moon knight x reader #Moon knight x you #Moon knight fluff #Marc Spector #Marc Spector x you #Marc Spector x reader #Marc Spector fluff #Steven Grant #Steven Grant x you #Steven Grant x reader #Jake Lockley #Jake Lockley x you #Jake Lockley x reader #Moon Knight system #Moon Knight system x you #Moon Knight system x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year ago

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you got all my love | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Well, it was always going to happen, wasn't it? No-one had banked on a connection that ran this deep though.

Warnings | No smut, only softness. A little angst. Talk of pregnancy. Alcohol consumption. Smut will return in full force in the final two parts.

Word Count | 1.7K

Authors Note | Okay, so here it is! Everything we've been working towards so far. There's no smut here, just some softness, but I promise there are two more parts and this little threesome is far from over! If you're enjoying this so far, then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or popping into my ask box with some love - I have really enjoyed interacting with you all over this! And, if you'd like to leave a tip (As always, no pressure what-so-ever) then you can do so here on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You have to rub your eyes until they sting to make sure you’re not seeing things. Then you have to do another one just to be sure. Then, just in case, another one just for luck, but all three show the same thing. Two pink lines. Those two fucking pink lines you had been praying for all along, on every single test. You’re pregnant. You’re finally fucking pregnant.

You gather all three tests in your hands once you’ve put the cap back on the bit you’ve peed on, before you bound down the stairs. It’s early in the morning and Tommy is stood at the coffee maker, waiting for enough liquid to filter to fill his mug. He turns around at the commotion of you almost falling into the table after forgetting to step on the final step. You’re breathless.

“What on earth is the matter, sugar?” He asks, leaning against the kitchen counter.

You hold up the three tests, but realise he can’t see anything with the grip you’ve got them held in. You take the strides to close the distance between you, setting them down on the counter next to the coffee machine. You watch, with a grin on your face as he picks one up, slamming it straight back down onto the counter when he sees the lines.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” He breathes, turning to you, “You’re?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I’m pregnant.”

His arms are crushing around you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. It finally worked. You’d finally been given everything you’d ever wanted. You pull back enough to fuse your lips with Tommy’s, before you pull away and realise you’re both crying.

“You’re gonna be a dad, Tommy.” You grin, pressing your lips all over his face, wherever you can reach.

“And you’re gonna be a mama, baby.” He speaks softly, setting your feet back on the ground, “Don’t know how I’m supposed to go to work now, I wanna tell everyone.”

You grin and cup his cheek, “I know baby, me too,” You look down at your feet before meeting his eye again, “There is someone we need to tell though.”

Joel is as welcoming as ever when you turn up that evening. He’s shouting up the stairs for Sarah to come and say hello, which she does, giving you both a hug before apologizing, glaring at her father, and informing you both that it’s already past her bedtime and she needs to brush her teeth.

“You want a drink?” Joel asks Tommy, who agrees to a glass of whiskey, “What about you, darlin’?”

“No, thank you, I’ll be driving back.” You smile, feeling around in the back pocket of your jeans for the lone test you’d brought with you, keeping it a secret to yourself for now.

Joel makes you a cup of tea and you sit around and chat for a while. Tommy filling him in on how things had been on site that morning, Joel talking about how he’d been to Sarah’s parent’s evening and how proud he was that she was doing so well. There was some off-hand comment that you frowned at, something about her inheriting the brains from her mother because they certainly hadn’t come from him, but it had been a nice conversation otherwise.

When there is a lull in the conversation, Tommy reaches across the table to take hold of your hand, sitting forward in his chair, “We have something to tell you.” He smiles at Joel.

You look to Tommy, reaching into your back pocket to fish the pregnancy test out before you slide it over the table to Joel. You watch as he picks it up, bringing it close enough to his face so he can see those two pink lines. Then he’s slamming it down on the table with a grin, all three of you standing in unison.

It’s you he comes to first. He wraps those big, strong arms around your waist and pulls you into a hug. You wrap your own around his neck and giggle as he congratulates you, right into your ear. Then, he sets you down, a chaste kiss to your cheek, before he moves onto Tommy.

It’s a scene that makes you want to cry. Tommy stretches out his hand as if he wanted Joel to shake it, but instead, he pulls Tommy into the biggest hug you’ve ever seen the brothers give each other. They’re slapping each other’s backs, pulling apart just enough to grin at each other, before they embraced again.

When Joel finally does let Tommy go, Tommy comes straight to your side, pulling you into him as Joel leans against his kitchen counter.

“Listen, I don’t want to make this a huge thing,” Tommy starts, rubbing the back of his neck with that nervous energy you remember he had when he first suggested this, “But thank you, for everything, for giving us everything, I know you and I know you don’t want anything as thanks, but just know how grateful we are for this brother.”

He shakes his head with a little smile, “I told you, anythin’ for family.” And with a shrug, that’s pretty much it. Tommy gives him another hug before he’s turning to you.

“I’ll let you two have a minute alone,” Tommy smiles, giving your hand a squeeze, fishing the car keys out of his pocket, “I’ll see you outside.”

Joel is leaning against his kitchen counter with an expression you can’t place, so you take a few steps towards him, taking his big hand in your own before you place a kiss to the inside of his palm, trailing your lips in soft kisses up his arm until you reach the crook of his elbow where his flannel sits. Then, you pull that arm around your shoulder, wrapping your own arms around his waist in a hug.

He's quick to return it, squeezing you into his body, as his other arm comes up to cradle your head to his chest, running along the back of your head as you breathe in his scent. He dips and presses his lips, ever-so-gently, to the crown of your head.

“Thank you,” You whisper softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, “I know it’s not much, but I don’t know what else you say.” You admit.

“Thank you is enough, pretty girl.”

You squeeze your arms tighter around his waist, you can’t look at him, not yet, not with your eyes filled with tears. You’re not even sure why you’re crying. Sure, you’re happy, over-the-moon, but there’s a sense of loss that sits inside you. It had been fun, what you’d been doing. Thrilling even, and you were always bound to get a little caught up in the way he made you feel when it was happening. Tommy has, and always will be, your number one. You’ve loved him since the moment you met him. But somewhere along the line, his rugged, older brother has stolen a piece of your heart all for himself and you don’t even mind all that much.

“I don’t want you to think we’re done with you,” You sniffle, trying to hold back the tears, “Just beause you’ve given us this, doesn’t mean we go back to normal; we can’t go back to normal.”

“I know babygirl,” He sighs, “I’m just happy I was able to make you happy, give you what you wanted,” There’s another kiss to your head now, “Take your time, you’re gonna be a family now, I don’t wanna get in the way of that, but I wanna help okay? You need anythin’, you call me, alright?”

You pull away and finally look at him, his own eyes glassy just like yours. He feels it too. It was only ever meant to be sex, only ever meant to be a means to an end, but neither of you expected the end to come so soon. Whether you, Joel or Tommy like it, you’re bonded to this man with his arms around your shoulders, and it’s scary. He loves his brother too much to do anything about the sinking feeling in his stomach, but God he wishes he could have you, just once more, just to tattoo what you felt like right onto his brain, onto his very soul, so he could remember you forever.

“Uncle Joel, right?” A lone tear rolls down your cheek, which Joel brushes away with the pad of his thumb, keeping one hand cupped around your cheek.

“Uncle Joel,” He nods, with a smile on his face, “And you best believe I’ll be the best damn Uncle ever.”

Your eyes are still glassed over with tears when you push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him. It’s soft and it only last a few seconds before you pull away. Before you can fully move yourself away though, Joel’s hands are cupping your face, leaning down to kiss you properly. His mouth opens at the same time as yours, and when his tongue is in your mouth, you can taste the whiskey on him. You can feel in this kiss everything you think he wants you to. The fact that he loves you, like he’s said before, as part of his family. The fact that he’s happy he could give you everything you wanted. The fact that he’s sad that he’s managed to do just that, and those moments he’d waited for, had craved all month long were gone now. That it’s okay, too, that he must step back, let you and Tommy figure out how to be parents together. That he’ll always be here, as long as he possibly can be, just in case you need him.

When you finally pull away from each other, a kiss placed by you on his jaw, you don’t say anything else. You don’t need too. Neither of you do. You just squeeze his hand and leave, joining Tommy in the car.

He hands you the keys and in no time at all you’re making the short drive to your own home. To your new life. The one Joel had given you, handed to you on a platter. You don’t think you’d ever be able to express to him how truly grateful you are to him. When you pull the car into the driveway and cut the engine, Tommy reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it.

“Okay?” He asks.

“Yeah,” You smile, “I’m okay.”

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adinathinternationalindia · 1 month ago

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Peristaltic Based Vial Filling, Stoppering & Capping Machine

Peristaltic Pump Vial Filling, Stoppering & Capping Machine uses for injectable pharmaceutical filling application. Peristaltic pump type filling is latest adoption in pharmaceutical industry than conventional piston pump type filling. Advantage of peristaltic pump driven filling is very less chance of contamination as contact area of liquid is just silicon pipe which you can replace after each batch. Also parts required for autoclaving purpose is very less in compare to other type of fillings.

Being Peristaltic pump type liquid filling machine manufacturer we provide different machine models ranging from 10 per minute to 300 per minute filling speed requirements. Calibration of peristaltic pump has to done one time for any particular liquid type after that one can adjust fill volume from HMI screen of the machine. This servo driven vial filling machine available with or without stoppering unit as per client’s requirements. Single channel as well multiple channel peristaltic pump can install according to required speed and output desired.

#Automatic Peristaltic Based Vial Filling Stoppering & Capping Machine #liquid filling machine

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months ago

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Blurred Lines 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: some more Nicky for the girlies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Back to usual.

You say goodbye to Joey with an especially clingy hug. She’ll be gone back to campus by the time you get home. Her short visits always leave you a bit sad.

You arrive at Nick’s place and let yourself in. The remnants of the prior day’s get together are still littered over the dining room table and throughout the front room. There’s more in the kitchen.

You gather the empty glasses and a few bottles with varying amounts of liquid still inside. You scrape plates into the pin and sweep napkins in after them. You fill the sink with warm soapy water to wash it all when you hear the soft but clumsy pad of feet on the stairs. They’re too light to be Nick.

You have the coffee brewing in anticipation of your boss’ hangover. The aroma wafts into the air as the machine clicks. A figure appears in the doorway and you turn to greet the woman in her sleek but wrinkled dress. This isn’t unexpected either.

“Good morning,” you greet her stunned eyes as she blanches.

“Um, I’m sorry, I was only–”

“Coffee?” You offer her as you open the cupboard, “look like you need it.”

“N-no, I… should go. Is there a Starbucks around here?” She croaks.

“No need, I can do lattes,” you offer, “he’s got this ridiculously expensive machine.”

“Er,” she looks down at the heels dangling from her hand then back to you, “sorry, are you… do you live…”

“I work for Mr. Fowler. Just the maid,” you assure her. Her assumption fills your chest with an unspent laugh. You’re far too old for Nick. Besides, the concept is ridiculous.

“Oh…” her single syllable dangles.

You pour her a cup and turn to offer it to her. Her mouth slants in a guilty smile. She shambles forward and accepts the mug.

“You take sugar, cream? Maybe some Advil?” You suggest.

“Oat milk? And yes please, my head is pounding.”

“Right, he has almond milk,” you open another cupboard and pluck out the ibuprofen, “or whole milk.”

“Almond is fine,” she accepts as you rattle the bottle.

“One or two, hon,” you ask as you approach her again.

“Two, please,” she inhales the scent of the coffee and sighs, rubbing her eye socket before extending her hand to take the tablet, “the whole bottle if I could.”

“Ugh, yeah, I don’t miss those days,” you hum and cap the bottle.

You put it away and go into the large fridge, taking out the carton of almond milk for the woman. You take it to her as she approaches the island to clink down the coffee. You watch as she adds the milk and takes a slender spoon from you to stir it in. She takes her first sip and moans before tossing back the pills.

“Coffee good?” You prompt proudly.

“Oh, yeah,” she looks up at you, “yeah, it’s great.”

“Took me a while to master the beast,” you point to the machine. “I finally got my ristretto down, too.”

She gives a nervous laugh and gulps again, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, “you’re nice… really nice. Why?”

You blink at her question. It makes you wonder, was Nick not nice? That’s not really any of your concern.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug and turn to the full sink, “you’re a guest.” You plunge your hands in and scrub the porcelain, “plus, you kinda remind me of my daughter. I’d like someone to treat her nicely too.”

“Ah,” she accepts, “that’s really sweet.”

“It’s human, I hope,” you open up the dishwasher to slide in each plate.

“You really… didn’t have to make me coffee,” she murmurs.

You peek over at her as she stares into the depths. She seems sad but that might just be the hangover. You continue your work as you reply.

“It was already on. If you’re hungry–”

“Please, no, that’s okay,” she declines with a wave, “I think… I think I’ll just finish this and get an uber. Maybe go call my mom.”

“Well, you let me know if you need anything before you go,” you chime as you hook glasses into the top rack of the dishwasher.

You finish the dishes and grab a damp cloth to go wipe the table down. You stop by a few other surfaces to clear away rings from the finish and return to the kitchen. As you enter from the dining room, Nick appears in the other.

The woman faces him as she grabs her shoes, “hi.”

He growls and lumbers over to the coffee machine. He sees the mug waiting for him and peers into its empty body. You clutch the cloth in your hand as you watch his naked back tense. He wears nothing more than a pair of briefs. At most, you’ve seen him shirtless when he needs some stitches.

“More coffee?” You offer the woman.

“No, I should go,” she peeks at him nervously.

“Alright, well, you take care,” you bid her and take her cup.

“Thanks,” she says and skulks to the door, “bye, Nick.”

“Mmm,” he flicks his fingers at her as he pours himself a cup.

You narrow your eyes at his shoulder blades. That wasn’t very polite. Well, it isn’t your job to be his mother, even if it feels like it sometimes.

You put the almond milk away as he turns to lean in the corner of the counter. He presses the porcelain to his forehead and groans. You shake out the cloth over the sink and rinse it out.

“You have a daughter,” he states plainly. A question but not really.

“I do,” you answer evenly.

“I didn’t know that,” he says.

You shrug, “guess it never came up.”

"You’ve worked for me for three years…” he mutters.

“You never asked,” you say lightly, “it’s fine.”

He lowers the cup and slurps loudly. He swishes the coffee around before he swallows thickly.

“Your husband okay with you working twelves?”

You chuckle, “sir, really, it’s fine.”

His curiosity is not usual. You stick to the expected, the manageable. You don’t stray outside the lines. You’re friendly but you’re not overfamiliar. He always seemed to prefer that. He enjoyed talking about himself far more.

“You were busy yesterday,” he shifts his weight to one foot, his muscled chest rippling.

“I suppose as busy as you,” you roll in the racks of the dishwasher and add soap before closing it up.

“I… interrupted your plans?”

“Sir, it’s fine, I had a good day off and now I’m back,” you insist, “are there any other messes I need to worry about?”

He tilts his head and exhales deeply. His cheek dimples as he considers you. The cut on his head is exposed but not as bad as it was, though the bruise under his eyes has only gotten darker.

He scoffs as a smirk slants his lips, “sure. You could change my bed sheets.”

“Sure,” you accept breezily, repressing the glimmer of concern at the base of your skull.

Something about his response seems trite, as if he means to insult you. You’re an adult, you’re less than shocked at his after hours play. By now, you’re quite used to it. He’s in his prime, he’s well off, and he’s handsome by anyone’s measure.

“You could try some witch hazel,” you touch your cheek then point at his, “for the bruising.”

“I can handle it,” he retorts and pushes himself away from the counter, “enough chattering. Get to work.”

🥃

You knock on the office door and wait for an answer. The little device you keep clipped to your belt is still buzzing with Nick’s demand. He calls to you from within and you enter.

“Sir?” You greet him.

“What took you so long?” He growls.

He’s in a foul mood. He has been all day. He can be gruff, you’re used to that, but today, he just seems prickly. His romp must not have been much fun. Come to think of it, his partner had been all too eager to flee.

You shake away the intrusive thoughts and clear your throat, “I was in the laundry room. Sorry.”

“My head is pounding,” he rubs his temples.

“Right, sir, I’ll bring you Advil and some water–”

“Don’t treat me like a child,” he snarls.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sure I’m a lot older than your daughter, so cut it out.”

“I wasn’t– sir, I’m sorry.”

“Go, get the pills,” he shoos you, “and call Rhonda.”

You nod and leave him. Wow. You don’t think he’s ever spoken to you like that. The mention of Joey also puts you off. Why is he so concerned? Most people could look at you and assume you have a kid or too. At your age, with your hips…

You go downstairs to retrieve the Advil and a tall glass of water. You climb back upstairs and follow the airy hall down to your office. As you enter, he sits with his head in his hands, his elbows on the desk. You don’t say a word as you set down the glass and pills.

He doesn’t move. You back away slowly and pull out your cell phone. You’ll call the masseuse, she should be able to work out the tension.

As you get to the door, he growls and his chair squeaks.

“You said something, about witch hazel,” he snarls.

“Uh, yes,” you face him, “it’ll take down the bruising.”

He narrows his eyes, the gesture tweaking his swollen cheek. Even battered, he isn’t unattractive. And the woman in his kitchen was just as gorgeous. So you find it hard to fathom why he’s in such a mood.

“Would you like me to get it for you, sir?” You ask, trying not to sound too pandering.

“Sure, whatever.”

You sweep away and go down the hall to the cabinet. You keep everything stocked well. Part of your job is inventory. You’ll have to go through the liquor bottles later and see what needs replenishing too.

You return to him with the witch hazel and a bag of cotton balls. You place them on his desk as he leans his head against the chairback, his eyes closed. You step back on your heel and his eyes pop open.

“Would you mind?” He motions to his face.

“Sure,” you take the cotton balls and pull one out.

You uncap the dark bottle and dampen the cotton with the liquid. His eyes close again as you sidle closer and you dab gently along his cheek. He flinches, just once, then stills. It must be cold.

His eyes flick open again and startle you as you retract your touch. Awkwardly, you move away and gather up the bottle and bag of cotton balls. He’s quiet as he leans forward to grab the bottle of pills.

“I should’ve guessed,” he says as he shakes two tablets out, “that’s what I do. I read people. You’re a mother, for sure. She’s older, isn’t she? College? You had her young–”

“Sir,” you sniff, uncomfortable.

“Just the one. And you didn’t answer me when I talked about your husband so he must be out of the picture. Divorced. About the time you came around here, huh? You need the job after the messy break up,” he suggests as he wags his finger with a knowing grin, “probably another woman, huh?”

You blink. You’ll let him think what he wants. His opinion of your marriage isn’t important. It won’t do to correct him anyway. He doesn’t really seem to care, he just wants to wound. You just can’t figure out what you’ve done to deserve it.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #blurred lines #the 355

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zezacle · 10 months ago

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Thraxia read through the checklist as the humans babbled between themselves.

"Whoah!" Rowan guffawed and blinked wide-eyed.

The other human chuckled with his deep voice. "How many brain cells did you just lose smelling that?"

Rowan offered the open bottle of liquid to Walker. "Take a whiff."

Finally, Thraxia completed the review and turned to see what the odd creatures were conversing about. Dread filled their chitinous body as they saw Human Rowan holding an *OPEN* bottle of Solution 63. "What are you doing?!" Thraxia covered their orifices and backed away. "The fumes from that are highly toxic!"

Human Walker stepped back cautiously, but the rather dense Human Rowan breathed another waft of the bottle's toxic gases. How was he not dead? Thraxia was thoroughly confused yet intrigued.

A wide-smile creeped across Rowan's face as he held the bottle out to Walker. "Smell it."

Thraxia winced as Walker took the Solution he hesitated for a second before bringing it to his nose. He recoiled from the smell, but smiled as well. "Is that...?"

"I think so!" Rowan laughed as he took the bottle back. Thraxia relaxed their scales, perhaps Humans are resistant to the gases. But then, Human Rowan put the bottle's opening to his lips and INGESTED THE SOLUTION. Thraxia began to panic. Surely the human would now die if they didn't receive medical attention, but the comms unit was next to the door which they stood in front of. There was no way to get to it without being exposed to the gas.

Rowan's face distorted as he pulled away from the bottle. Surprisingly, he wasn't collapsing or convulsing. "Well?" Walker asked.

Rowan smiled, "It's pretty good."

"Are you two okay?" Thraxia called.

"Yeah, were fine. What are you-"

"Hey boys." They were interrupted by the third resident human coming in the door.

"Careful!" Thraxia called. They didn't know if Female Humans were as resilient as the Males. "There is toxic gas!"

"Gas?" The Human Lily asked.

"They're referring to this, try some." Rowan handed the bottle to her.

"What? I'm not drinking that, I don't even know what it is." Lily rejected the bottle.

Rowan gently shook the bottle, surely agitating the dangerous Solution 63. "Its good~" He smiled.

"Did you drink it?" Lily's eyes went wide. "Oh god, Rowan..." she groaned, rubbing her eyebrows. "Alright, let's take a sample to the lab and make sure you didn't just poison yourself."

And so, they capped the bottle of Solution 63. The humans retrieved a respirator for Thraxia at their request and they all convened in the lab. Lily took a pipette sample from the bottle and dropped it in the analysis machine. Less than 30 seconds later a molecular breakdown was displayed on the monitor.

"Let's see..." Lily looked over the results. "Oh, okay. You'll be fine, Rowan. It's relatively harmless." Walker chuckled as he read the results.

"Harmless?!" Thraxia exclaimed, muffled by the respirator they refused to remove. "It's poison!" They pointed to the screen which read: 'Alcohol, 40% by Volume.'

Rowan laughed. "Poison? Baby, this is Goofy Juice!"

#humans are space orcs #creative writing #goofy juice #idk how tumblr works but i saw people write really long tags so have a really long tag #yes this is a common trope within a common trope idgaf

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thiccschief · 4 months ago

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Auto Feeding Machine

This is something I've been experimenting with but figured y'all would like it, too. If you're like me and want to be slowly fed a fattening gainer shake while you game/relax/whatever, you've gotta try it. Simply put the tube in your mouth (like a straw), turn it on, and let the machine slowly feed you fattening gainer shake. 🤤 Assembling it is pretty fast and straightforward, but I would def recommend reading through all the instructions first.

1. Pick your bottle.

I used a 1.5L bottle with a sturdy cap. The size of the bottle isn't super important as long as the cap can withstand the air pressure (explained below).

2. Pick your shake.

Pick your favorite calorie-rich liquid. I used Soylent, but Boost or melted ice cream would do great here. Just make sure it isn't too thick, as your pump may struggle to push it through the tubing.

3. Pick your pump.

The way this works is air is fed into the bottle, displacing your shake into the feeding tube (and then into your mouth.) So, you'll need an aquarium air pump. I used a small (and slow) pump from walmart, but I'd imagine one like this would be better. You'll also need quite a bit of tubing.

4. Assembly

Now that you have all your supplies, start by washing your bottle & tubing. (Remember, you're eating out of this thing!)

Start by taking your clean bottle and poking two holes in the cap. Make sure they are perfectly round and slightly smaller than the diameter of the tubing to create a good seal. (this is the hardest part)

Then you'll need to cut your tubing. I cut my tubing to have about 6 feet (~2m) on the feeding side, and 2 feet (~3/4m) on the pump side. On the pump side, attach the check valve that came with your pump (it should have an arrow telling you which direction to attach it to the tube).

Then carefully feed the tubing through the holes you poked into the lid. Pull the pump tube about an inch through, and the feeding tube however far it needs to reach the bottom of your bottle.

(NOTE: due to the air pressure, there may be a rush of air through the feeding tube when the level of shake in the bottle goes below the end of the feeding tube. This also happens if the bottle is knocked/falls over. I didn't find it to be too intense, but please be mindful of this and use it safely!!!)

Then, fill your bottle with your shake and carefully feed the tube into the bottle as you put on the cap (again make sure the feeding tube touches the bottom). Screw the cap on so it is nice and secure.

Now attach the pump tube to your pump. (At this point I would strongly recommend testing your setup for leaks and making sure the flow of shake isn't too fast. Use common sense and be safe.)

5. Simply put the feeding hose in your mouth like a straw, turn on the pump, and let the magic happen.

Let me know if you have suggestions/questions, and enjoy!

(also tag your favorite gainer you want to see try it!)

#exjock #male wg #gay gainer #chubby #bhm wg #bloat kink #gaining weight on purpose #gaining kink #get me fatter #feedee belly #fatty getting fatter #gaining fat

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nordicmedfet · 2 months ago

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Mr A - Part 3

Its been a while since I last wrote something, hopefully you will like this next part.

________________________

Going back to mr A for the umpteen time, Iv'e honestly lost track of how many visits we've had. The waiting room now has even more pictures alonng the walls, I'm actually now one of them. As I hear the doorknob turning I immediately stand up, look him in the eyes over his mask and walk into the procedure room.

-Please put this on and lay down, he says.

He hands me the white see through gown, and a green bouffant cap, I undress and quickly step in to the gown. I stand next to the bed and using a step stool i get up on the bed. Laying down on the cold and narrow bed. Mr A smiles as he brings my arm out onto the armrests, strapping my arms down, he then places a blanket over me making me feel comfortable. After putting in an IV he begins to preoxygenate me.

-Just take some deep breaths he camly says, pusing the propofol throug my IV. Slowly but surely i drift of to sleep, and Mr A now takes a better hold of my face and the anaesthesia mask, pressing them tightly together. He then lift my chin up and turn on the anaesthesia gas. Pusing breath after breath into my lungs with help of the rebreathing bag.

After a minute or two he gently lifts the mask, my face droops as im sedated. He gently tips my face up to make the intubation easier. He places the LMA into my mouth, and firmly pushes it deeper down my throat. The LMA is then filled with air and gently move as it adjust itself. After hooking me up to the ventilator and taping the tube to my face he removes my paper gown, exposing my naked body. Placing ECG leeds on my chest, a bloodpreasure cuff on my arm and a pulse ox on my finger.

Preparing for the surgery he places my legs in stirrups, and then proceeds to place a urine catheter into my bladder, as he plans on keeping me sedated for a while. The next step is to sterilise the field. He pours brown alcohol into a bowl, dipping swabs into the liquid to begin wash the surgical field. He begins to wash my entire belly up to my ribs. The solution drips down my sides and under me. The curves of my abdomen shakes as he drag the swab back and forth. He proceeds to swab my pubic area and submerges the area in sterile alcohol. Next he wipes over my left labia, then the right. He end of by swabbing over onto my inner thighs. He changes the alcohol to a more gentle type, and then proceeds to swab my vagina and the inside of my cervix. Swirling the swab around, changing to a new swab and repeats it a couple of times.

The surgical drapes are placed and stick onto my body. Exposing the pubic area to be operated on. He places drapes on my thighs and pressing them down to make them stay on.He gently begins to tuch my vagina as he proceeds to places a speculum in it, opening it step by step.

As he makes the first cut in my belly button, the blood start to slowly appear. He dabs a cloth over it and proceeds to place the co2 line to inflate my belly. He then makes two cuts around it to place the laparoscopy camera and laparoscopic tools. He works on me for a few minutes until my sats and heartbeat start dropping. He runs to the top of the bed disconnecting me from the ventilator and using the ambu bag to help press down the air. He begins to pound my chest, one two three four... He grabs the AED and place it on my chest. The AED analyse my heartbeat and advise Mr A to give a chock.

My entire body lifts of the table and slam down again, shaking my breastsand belly. The CPR resumes and he gives me another even stronger chock. One last round of hard and vigorous cpr by Mr A before he turn of the machines and sit down with his face in his hands. His first loss..

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surgerypatient · 10 months ago

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Joseph’s dental surgery

Joseph had long wondered how long he could go without brushing his teeth, unbeknownst to him he would soon find out in a “routine” visit to a new dental clinic in his town after his previous one had closed down some years prior, they didn’t look horrendous- to him- of course most others opinions would vary from bad to worse. as it happened his appointment was scheduled to be the last of the day- this was because they knew of his attempting to avoid brushing as long as possible. The time finally came for him to go over, the building it was in was very nice, new, sterile feeling as many doctors offices are- part of the reason he picked this facility was their offering general anesthesia for dental phobia patients among other things he was not a fan of dental work done to him. He walked up to the door opened it and was greeted by Suzie the busty brunette receptionist wearing pastel blue scrubs and a scrub cap

Hi you must be Joe ❤️ she chimed

yeah that’s me, here for my appointment with Dr Grace Wheeler.

I’ll let them know youre here

I sat down in one of the tiny chairs and picked up an old magazine to flip through and before long they came for him.

“Hello, Joe “Dr Wheeler greeted and retrieved him personally wearing her wine red scrubs and glasses framing her face under her dirty blonde hair tucked in a cap.

those scrubs are cute Joe said

“Thanks, you won’t be seeing them much though!”

”Why would that be?”

you’ll see, come on back with me, gotta get you ready for your sleep!

“That’s why, I’ll be asleep, alright” I follow her down a long hallway with doors lining each side of the hallway until we arrive at the last one which looks different from the others!

I see some a teal gown, purple cap and blue grippy socks on the big navy blue debtal surgery table with a cup shaped headrest with a loaded mayo stand next to it full of tools and supplies but covered with a green towel. Next to it, a quite advanced looking large anesthesia machine

Just undress and put those clothes on and leave your belongings in this bin please! I’ll be back shortly!

I started to undress all the way and put on the patient attire before sinking into the immense surgery table awaiting my sleep

Then Dr Wheeler came back this time with 2 scrubbed-in figures in tow, they were wearing pale green gowns, blue, full head hoods and white tie-on surgical masks. you could tell they were women, busty at that.

“oohhh, is it time?”

I make myself still on the table, arms on the armrests, as one grabs a wipe and wipes his arm, before sticking a needle in and attaching a bag of saline to the new port in the crook of my elbow.

Then the other one grabs a big fluffy blanket and puts it over me , securing straps over my torso down to my feet.

“We don’t want you falling out now, do we?” Wheeler says, now dressed similarly to her helpers in a green gown, white mask and dark purple gloves

time to sleep you hear as a scrubbed figure places a mask over your face, at first it tastes normal but quickly you feel the flow change and become more chemical smelling, we’re just giving you some nitrous now, as she loads a syringe into your port filled with a strange white liquid

“this may burn or sting slightly”

she was right and soon in addition the back of your throat tasted a bit coppery, before long your vision began to blur as well.

you’re falling down so good, joe, keep falling ❤️ only a matter of time now!

pretty soon what was left of your vision finally faded out and you were in a state of anesthesia.

alright, he’s out , ladies get to work

the mask was renoved from your face then the restraints on your lower body loosened before your legs were moved into the frog pose and your groin shaved and wiped with warm water then painted with betadine followed by a syringe of sterile lubricant injected into your urethra and a catheter placed before the blanket and restraints were replaced.

While that was happening a nasotracheal tube was being introduced into your right nostril, and attached to the ventilator to keep you under and a ring mouth-gag sewn in place simultaneously, before a tube of opthalmic ointment was squirted over each of your corneas and they were sealed with surgical dressings then green towels were placed around your mouth and secured around the tube to keep it in place followed by the mayo stand being wheeled to hang over your insensate body and your chair was raised to just over 4ft off the ground before one of the assistant’s began painting the lower portion of your face with antiseptic, then placed a throat pack with the surgical clamps.

Now it was time to work, Dr Grace Wheeler made quick work of your full clearance, removing each tooth individually before leveling the bone along your gumline with the piezoelectric grinder and sewing your new gums shut, who knows you might just learn a thing or two from being toothless now

hope you all like this story, i wrote it in one take, i know the grammar a d whatnot aren’t all there but the concept sure is

#anesthesia #intubated #surgery #medfet #surgeon #intubatedlover #female surgery #medical equipment #anesthesia mask #intubation #dental surgery #tooth extractions #dental implants

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theleslistuff · 7 days ago

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Felt like writing for no particular reason, enjoy ❤

Caretaker syndrome

Summary; Danny's friends and family have been worried sick about Danny's bad habits; lack of sleep, he barely eats or drinks anything to keep fulfilling his obsession for protecting Amity park, so they began to take roles: Tucker keeps track of time for classes, Sam fights off easier ghost, Jazz makes sure he's not sneaking out to help Sam with the easiest ghost, but his twin brother Andy has the hardest duty... To make his personal chores..., but who is going to help them with their problems if they're exhausted trying to keep Danny (half) alive?.

Warning: alternative universe from the fan fiction My Brother is a ghost by Darkfoxkit where the corrupted era never happened and Andy joined phantom team as technically Danny's babysitter.

-Danny has a twin brother au

-OCs

-Mention of torture

-Danny is less human and more zombie like in his human half

-Loss of self, psychological and physical body horror for several characters (not in this chapter)

Chapter 1: The babysitter

It was a regular day in Amity Park, birds chirping, people running from a ghost attack, nothing different from usual as the infamous ghost boy in his trademark spandex black and white suit answers the distress calls quickly and more efficiently than any other ghost hunter in the town except for the red huntress.

-Ha!, is that everything you got dude?!-

Danny taunted the new ghost guard from Walker who was terrifying the town as he was testing out his weapons on people... A direct order from Walker to provoke the ghost boy, the heavily armoured guard finally with his real target on sight began to shoot at him with one of his many weapons, Phantom eluded the shots with elegance and grace until he flew straight into a publicitary cardboard.

-Ouch..., okay I deserved it for playing too long...-.

He murmured feeling ashamed since the nearby crowd was looking and some people even took photos of him, he decided it was time to finish this, he pulled out from his backpack the Fenton thermos and since he had some distance from the ghost, he could easily open the thermos, activate it and suck the ghost and all his weapons before he could react.

-And... That's how you finish a war machine folks!-.

He joked with a cheerful smile, the crowd claps fill his core with warm despite it's cold nature. The ghost boy considering his work done here waved a good bye at them as he begins to fly away as the red huntress is already trying to shoot him.

But between the cheering crowd there's someone not as joyful as the rest who didn't even looked away from his cellphone as the ghost boy was saving them, this boy held an uncanny resemblance with the son of the two most incompetent ghost hunters in town; the Fentons, black messy hair, pale skin with some freckles and soft factions with a fragile looking frame, the only physical difference between those two being the boy's tired green eyes but not as dreadful as the Fenton boy's blue dead looking eyes, their clothes different too since Danny Fenton usually wears a white shirt with a red circle in the middle his best friend assures there used to be a NASA logo there, blue baggie pants and red tennis shoes and this boy prefers a darker color scheme with a black shirt having a blue triangle in the middle, red pants and blue tennis shoes, it's said they are like a polaroid of each other.

The boy pulled out a bottle of water from his orange backpack and without giving a glance at the approaching frame of a tired looking Danny Fenton, he extended his arm holding the bottle of water at him, the opposite immediately snatched the bottle from this boy, practically ripped off the cap and began to drink from it, some of the liquid splashing on his clothes and face due the rushed and messy drinking, once the water was gone, he handed the empty bottle back to the other boy.

-Thanks for the saving bro...-. Danny replied with a huge smile on his face, the boy he called just smiled and nodded. -Try not to get smashed by the cardboard next time-, the boy answers his tone holding a small hint of mischief that Danny did not appreciate as he gave him a small playful hit with the elbow.

-Just let's go home Andy, mom and dad are going to be really worried when they see you in the middle of the ghost attack-, Danny said to his twin brother as he began to walk away, Andy walked behind him at certain distance thinking about his distant admiration for what his brother does as a everyday routine... Save the town, sometimes wishing he could do more than just keep Danny's homework done, make sure he drinks water and has something to eat, a desire to be a sidekick in the real battle field but a mare human like him could never do as much as he does, except for those wealthy and skilled enough through tough training like the Guys in white or the red huntress receiving her supplies from Vlad Masters.

His steps slowed down reflecting on this fact; does he really want to stay forever as just a babysitter for his brother's personal needs?... Doing double homework for him to not fail his classes, making him go to sleep, take him food and water straight to the battlefield, it's a noble duty, there's no denial in that and he gets to have time with his brother, right?!.

He stopped to walk and looked at Danny running away towards home leaving him behind, he can't help but to have mixed feelings about this, feeling proud and happy to see his brother improving since Andy decided to be like his babysitter, there's no longer black bags under his eyes, there's less bruises, burns or other injuries since he's more focused and eating better.

He looked at his own reflection on a nearby glass from a cafeteria, his brother is even starting to develop his muscles, meanwhile he looks like a bag of bones, a frame noticeable smaller than his twin, dry lips and hollow eyes with black bags under his eyes, it's the first time he really has noticed how much he has not taken care of himself..., he touched his cheek in a absent and unconscious gesture trying to confirm it's indeed his real reflection, he clenched his hand into a fist, he's determined tonight he will talk this out with Danny, it's not like he doesn't want to help anymore, it will be more about trying to have either a more important role or make Danny self conscious about his lack of self care to make him less reliant of him to take care of himself too.

With a tired look and determination on changing things he began to walk towards his home, nothing will stop him from finally talking this out with him...

Or so he thought until he felt a sharp pain on his neck, his vision immediately turned blurry, every object began to spin around him, his hand moving in slow motion towards his neck to inspection what is the cause of this, his fingers register a needle before he began to fall and finally passed out.

From behind the boy the tall figure of a muscular man with dark skin, a bald scalp and dressed in a white suit characteristic from the anti ghost organization "The Guys In White" took away the needle from the boy's neck and carried the boy in his arms as if he weighed nothing, he walked away with normalcy, unnoticed by the people passing by because of his authority figure the organization gave this uniformed man as a government agency, not a single soul questioned when he carried the boy inside the Axion lab's building.

Andy's eyes began to flutter open, the sedative making him have a hard time to even feel alive, his body felt sore and heavy, his breath was jagged and his mouth tasted like iron with a heavy tongue he could barely move, the first thing he noticed besides feeling like garbage was that he was in some kind of prison of high technology, the environment was painted in a pure pearl white, not a single spot of dirt to the sight, the toilet, the bed, the sheets the purest white he could ever see making him have a strong guess about who is behind this, the only striking contrast being himself and the bars of electric blue energy to prevent him from escaping, he could not help but to think... It would be extremely easy for Danny to pass through those bars, but for him it would be certain death just to touch them.

He began to rise from the floor, falling in several attempts with every muscle feeling like they are made of jelly, as the time passes the effects of the sedative finally seem to fade away and allow him to stand up properly having a little support from one of the sickly white walls, he panted and closed his eyes, his bad shape along with the strong sedative used on him making a single simple task as standing up a total nightmare, he groaned in frustration until he heard a voice from outside his cell.

-I offer you an apology young man, as you must know our organization develops technology against ghost and our agent had no other sedative at hand than one designated to put Phantom to sleep..., It's a good new to see you recovered almost completely-.

Andy opened his eyes and turned around to see the man, as he suspected it was one of the agents from the guys, but this one looks important..., He's noticeable older than most of the field agents, a man around his sixties, grey short hair on his head a good cared beard, his skin pale and although with some marks from the age and scars from battle, his skin is totally pale, almost like an albino, his eyes covered in black glasses like those of the other agents, hands perfectly still behind his back like a gentleman or perhaps holding something. The boy was kinda shocked, he didn't knew anything about this man but the mare appearance tells him he's a big threat around here, so he proceeded carefully.

-I'm sorry but I think you're mistaken sir, I'm not a ghost, why did you brought me here?-, Andy asked as he made eye contact with the man or at least looking at his glasses, the teenager immediately tried to look at something, anything on his expression that would tell him something about his motives with him, it was no use, the man held a perfect poker face, not a single muscle on his face moved until he spoke.

-We're never mistaken young man, but don't think too highly of yourself, you're not going to just be a prisoner for us, you're more of a tool to get a bigger threat...-, Andy's eyes widened and he gave a step back, it was not necessarily a explanation to connect the dots and realize he is going to be used as a bait to get Danny, the old man gave a small smile as he noticed this child was catching up fast with what is happening.

-As you may have guessed, we keep our vigilance on this ghost called Phantom trying to get a soft spot, a way to get rid of that menace pretending to be one of us..., but we noticed a constant in the last months, his assistants may snap out of his control or not be with him in a daily basis but you seem to be quite close to this ectoplasmic menace...-.

The man shut down the energy from the bars through a remote control and threw on the floor photos from the vigilance survey showing Andy with Danny either human form or ghost form, The boy's blood ran cold though his body as he realized they have always known about Danny's identity and immediately discarded the possibility of halfas, just thinking of Danny's human half as camouflage, in certain part it makes sense for him, Andy himself still not fully believes in the concept of halfas.

-So, what are you going to do?, just keep me trapped until he comes to the facilities?, you know he could easily pass through a cell like this one by just turning intangible and get me out, not even being noticed at all-

Andy felt confident enough to tease a little due the simplicity of their plan, but a bad feeling shrunk into him as the man began to laugh, the sound of his rough laugh equally as strange as dreadful breaking his confidence into small pieces.

-Dear boy, don't insult my intelligence, I haven't insulted yours for believing such a brutish idea..., we are not in need of a bait, we're in need...-, he stopped at mid sentence to suddenly stab Andy's shoulder with a syringe he has hidden on his hands all this time to inject all it's contents, Andy was about to scream when the man suddenly pulled out the needle and covered the boy's mouth with a hand, he approached slowly to his ear and confessed his real plan.

-You'll be my weapon to eliminate that menace once and for all and you'll not be able to do anything to stop it...-

He tossed the boy inside the cell and turned on the cell bars once more before he could even get up from the floor, the boy not understanding at all what he meant by that, rushed towards the cell bars and yelled.

-What do you mean by that?!, what have you done to me?!-

He tried to get an answer but the man was already walking away, ignoring the teenager's words.

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #danny fenton #andy #oc #sam manson #tucker foley #andy fenton #fanfic #caretaker syndrome au

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kzlove · 2 years ago

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weak

syn -> in which armin's immune system is so weak, he doesn't realize when he actually needs to be taken care of.

not much to beware of...

it was around 9:30 in the morning when you received a message from your boyfriend's best friend and roommate.

[9:30am] eren j. : hey i jus wanna lyk that armin is sick [9:31am] eren j : he also specifically told me not to tell u [9:31am] eren j : but he also looks like complete shit [9:32am] eren j : can u come over? i have class nd have to help my mom w/ a few things, so i won't b back till late tn [9:33am] eren j. : knowing his weak ass, he'll prob pass out or throw up all over the place w/o assistance

that was all you needed to know to make your way over to their house.

eren met you half way to give you armin's keys to the house since he really wouldn't need it.

so when you made it into the house with your things, the first thing you heard was a horrible sounding cough.

it quite literally sounded as though he was up in his room dying.

you grimaced at the sound and took your shoes off, making your way upstairs to his room with your bag.

you knocked on armin's door and waited patiently.

"eren. go. away. i'm fine." armin demanded, shuffling in what sounded like his bed.

you opened the door and peaked in, seeing armin tucked under many layers of blankets.

"well don't come in you- fucking dumbass." armin groaned quietly, sneezing in the middle of his sentence.

"if i don't then how will i help you?" you asked, walking into the room and closing the door.

armin peaked out from under the covers, before groaning and tossing his head back onto the pillow.

you don't miss how he began cursing his best friend out under his breath.

"min, i thought you told me you were okay?" you asked, placing your bag down and opening it.

"i am. it's just a small cold." armin muttered, glaring at you.

armin always used the excuse of having a small cold.

it was understandable that he had a very weak immune system, but it was almost always worse than a small cold.

"babe i can hear you wheezing." you chuckled, grabbing the nebulizer you had brought with you.

you plugged it in and put the mask over his face, helping him sit up in his bed properly.

"this is unnecessary." armin glared at you once more, before closing his eyes.

you ignored him, turning on the machine and letting the noise fill your ears.

once you could see the smoke coming out, you began cleaning up all the tissues he had lingering around the room.

as well as the cough drop wrappers hanging around here and there.

you dumped them all in the garbage downstairs, before looking over at the huge container on the counter.

a note stuck to it, saying 'eat plenty of soup and get well soon -love mama jaeger' with a little doodle on the corner.

you hummed and smiled a bit, before making your way upstairs back to your unwell boyfriend.

when you made it back into the room, the machine was still on and armin looked even more upset.

you turned the machine off and helped it over his head, smiling sweetly at him.

he sent you a sarcastic smile in return.

"god- armin would it kill you to be appreciative?" you groaned, sitting on his desk chair.

"i didn't ask for this." armin groaned mockingly, nose entirely too stuffed.

you stifled a laugh at the sound of his voice.

"you don't have to ask for it. it comes with the service." you sighed, digging through his desk drawer.

armin mocked you silently, before beginning to cough violently into his elbow.

you frowned, before turning over to him and holding a bottle of dayquill in your hands.

when he finished, you poured some of the liquid into the medicine cap and placed it onto the desk.

"did you eat today?" you asked, standing up and stretching.

"nuh uh. went to the bathroom and fuckin passed out." armin frowned, rolling onto his stomach and sighing.

that must explain why eren actually texted you this time around.

he wasn't just saying possible situations when he said armin might pass out in the house taking care of himself.

you frowned and felt his forehead. he was burning up.

"i'm gonna get you some soup. eren's mom made it." you said kissing your index and middle finger before pressing it onto his nose.

armin buried his head into his pillow, red dusting over his cheeks.

you smiled at him, and went downstairs to heat the soup up on the stove.

it was pretty warm, so you could assume eren had heated it up before he left for class.

when it was hot enough, you put some in a small bowl and took it back upstairs to armin's room.

his was half asleep in his bed, now rolled onto his back with his hand over his light happy trail.

"babe." you called, pulling the chair over to his bed, and placing the soup on the nightstand.

armin let out a quiet hum of acknowledgement, looking over at you with tired blue eyes.

"come eat a bit." you said, holding up the spoon to his mouth.

armin let out a small grin, before opening his mouth and drinking the soup slowly.

you rolled your eyes and put the spoon back into the bowl, handing him the small cup with medicine in it.

after downing the medicine, armin let out a dramatic gagging noise and groaned, before tossing the cup into a unknown corner.

you sighed, crossing your arms and looking at him.

armin looked back at you and shot you a woozy smile. "instinct." he replied smoothly.

you rolled your eyes and got another spoonful of soup, pressing it to his lips.

he swallowed it with a hum, before looking at you. "can i have a dumpling? then i think i'm done." armin said.

you gave him a piece of the dumpling in the soup and watch as he hummed in content.

"thank you." armin muttered, rolling onto his stomach and nuzzling into his blanket.

after a bit, he sniffled and you noticed he was trembling.

"min are you crying?" you asked, wondering if you should take the blanket off his head.

"no! just cold." armin protested, breaking out into coughs and wheezes almost immediately after.

you sighed and tucked the blanket over him properly, turning off his fan.

almost immediately, armin was out like a light.

for the rest of the day, you took care of armin.

you helped him bathe, eat, and monitored him when he wanted to get up and take a short walk around the house.

he claimed he had to stretch out his legs or 'he'd become short again'.

you were sure armin had just wanted to have an arm around you, but you agreed nonetheless.

while the two were walking around in the living room, the front door opened and in came eren.

"hey. you look better than earlier, armin." eren said, flashing his best friend a smile.

"fuck you, you fuckin snitch." armin scoffed, coughing into his elbow.

eren rolled his eyes and tossed his bag onto the couch, sticking his middle finger up at him.

"you should be happy i called. you look so much better." eren said, gesturing to his face.

armin rolled his eyes, muttering 'i could've gotten better on my own time' to himself.

eren chuckled and took a seat, turning on the tv and digging through his bag. "ma said to feel better. here." eren muttered, before pulling out a brown bag.

armin took it from him and peaked inside, before smiling.

it was a fresh container of soup and those little noodle chips along with it.

"your mom is so amazing ." armin muttered, popping open the container and beginning to eat the soup already.

eren mocked him and rolled his eyes, flipping through the screen.

"you have enough energy to watch power with me?" eren asked, looking at his best friend.

"fuck yeah i do. sit baby." armin sniffled, patting the seat next to him.

eren had pressed play on the latest episode, getting comfortable on the long end of the couch.

in the middle of the show, armin let out a loud sneeze, followed by loud coughs.

"ew. take that shit upstairs." eren groaned, looking towards his best friend with fake disgust.

armin said nothing, just reached his hand out to wipe his snot on eren's arm.

the male screeched in disgust, launching himself over the side of the couch and glaring at armin.

"what the fuck?!" eren questioned, wiping the snot off and flicking it back on armin.

of course, wiping the excess off on armin's cheek.

armin huffed and stood up, before coughing dead in eren's face

they were both definitely going to be sick and exhausted by tomorrow morning, you were sure of it.

#armin x reader #armin arlert #armin fluff #armin aot #armin x y/n #armin snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #aot fluff #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jeager

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