#because i had a paper 3 assessment this morning

[bubu-pharmacy-doctor]

I have a biology exam this morning and it's got an essay :((

Can I have advice? And luck?

I hope it goes well, exams are never fun. If it goes badly, do remember that they are a flawed way of measuring your skill, you shouldn't take a bad grade to mean you're not good at something.

If the essay is a component, read the essay topics before you start answering the other questions. The other questions may give you ideas for topics to discuss.

If you have a habit of writing slower or for longer amounts, take more time on your essay than they recommend. If you write quickly, don't think you'll be able to use some essay time on non-essay questions. Use all of the recommended essay time for the essay.

You want to include as much information as you can, but only if it's relevant.

If your essay question was the importance of enzymes in organisms, if you choose to discuss digestion you would want to include the names of the enzymes and substrates, the bonds they break, the products, why these products are important. Include intermediates, like maltose (starch-maltose-glucose), the fact that there are multiple peptidases - remember dipeptidase, those get forgotten.

If you can think of a more unique topic that is still related, include it. Chances are less people will have thought of it, if you know the topic well, you can get some good points for it.

Take the synaptic response, there are enzymes included in that, even though they are not a major part. Or the secondary messenger model.

If you are not confident of the name of an enzyme, do not name its substrate. If you name acetylcholine and then forget the name of acetylcholinesterase, it will be obvious, so refer to them as "neurotransmitters" and "enzymes", as you can't complete the example. You shouldn't lose anything for naming just one, but it will save you additional stress over forgetting the name.

If you know a topic very well and only one part of it is related, do not spend time on the unrelated parts. Enzymes are involved in the breakdown of neurotransmitters, but not the action potential, so do not spend time describing the all-or-nothing response.

I hope that can help you.

[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Zoro

Lately, you've been suffering from terrible nightmares. But you didn't understand why. You weren't under stress, there was nothing that particularly bothered you.

They came out of nowhere like a bolt from the blue. However, they were such nightmares that you were woken up by your own screams.

You didn't deal with it the first few days. You thought you'd get over it on your own. But that didn't happen. Instead, you started getting giant circles under your eyes, and sleep gave you no energy at all. Slowly, the people around you started to see it.

You had another long shift ahead of you and wondered how you were going to get through it. When it was a busy hour, it was fine. You didn't have time to think about being tired.

But when there were few guests, they were worse. How many times have you caught yourself leaning on your arm and your eyelids drooping?

But now it was such a more comfortable evening. Not a few people and not a lot of people. Such an ideal, when you managed to serve customers and your colleague unpacked the goods that arrived in the morning.

"Should I take off my shoes? So that you don't swallow me," your colleague asked you with a laugh as you covered your mouth and yawned. “Hey, if you want to take the day off, just say,” he smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder. 

You just shook your head over it. You didn't need any time off. You've had enough. In addition, you were able to react well here at work.

"I understand, but if you ever wanted to chat over a glass or cup of coffee, I'm here for you," he said encouragingly, before returning to unpacking again.

"Look at this. Isn't he cute?” your colleague asked you as he placed a box of booze next to the bar that he wanted to refill. Shuffled among the bottles was a green teddy bear in a green coat with a red sash.

The teddy bear looked dishevelled. You took him in your hands when you noticed that one of his eyes was missing. The place had a stretchy scar in that place as if someone had sown it there.

"Keep him. Maybe this little fur ball will protect you from the nightmares,” he said with a smile as he levelled the bottles.

"If so, it would be a miracle," you answered sceptically, but you kept him anyway.

You returned home a little after 3 in the morning. You fell into bed and pulled your stuffed animal closer to you. For how dishevelled and rough he looked, he was surprisingly soft. After a long time, you fell asleep like nothing.

At first, it looked like you were going to wake up again because of the nightmare that was tyrannizing you. At worst, a young man in a green coat appeared there like a bolt from the blue with 3 swords and cut your night demons as if they were made of paper.

The night fury had dissipated, but new ones could be seen forming on the horizon. The young man assessed the situation and put away his swords before taking you in his arms and running away with you.

You had no idea where he was running and at one point you were afraid you were running towards them. You finally ran away from them and hid in a pub. On the one hand, it reminded you of the bar you worked in, and on the other hand, you knew deep down that it was a completely different bar.

You had no idea that you would sleep this well again. The nightmares were slowly disappearing, but they kept bothering you. The young man with the green hair always had to save you.

Thanks to him, you slowly learned to control your dreams at least partially. Or rather, you weren't just a meadow of your wild imagination, you were free to roam.

Thanks to this, you slept better and were full of energy during the day. You were even in the mood to go to the gym after a long time and elsewhere, where you haven't been able to get to recently.

In the end, you decided to go to the gym. You slipped into your sports clothes and went to the first machine.

You decided to try dumbbells too. You put on the weights and started lifting. You made it through a few sets when you started to feel tired.

However, you wanted to finish the set when you missed lifting it 3 times for the last time. You managed it with effort, but you had a lot to do to put the barbell back in the rack. You threatened to drop her on you.

You tried to throw her to the ground, but your hands slowly gave up. You feared the worst when some kind soul saved you. That someone grabbed the barbell and returned it to the supports with ease.

You breathed a sigh of relief and sat up. To your surprise, it was the same green-haired young man from your dreams. But now he was wearing black pants with a white T-shirt.

"Thanks, I thought it was my end," you thanked him.

"No problems. But you should be more careful next time," he replied before going his own way.

You took a moment to rest before heading to the next machine. This time on the treadmill. There weren't many women in the gym and you could feel other people's eyes on you. It was not very pleasant for you, but every time you turned around, they acted as if nothing had happened.

You sighed and focused on running instead. After a while, however, you started to feel their looks again. You wanted to yell at them when it was all over.

You looked over your shoulder and everyone was minding their own business. In doing so, you noticed a green-haired youth with a murderous expression on his face as he worked out on the opposite side. Whoever dared to look at you was met with a murderous look.

When you finished on the treadmill, you moved again to another machine. You noticed that the green-haired followed you here as well.

You felt like you had your own bodyguard the entire time you were in the gym. You had no idea why he was doing it, but he seemed so aware that you didn't even mind.

After some time when you decided to wrap it up for today, you went to the dressing room. You were changing when you heard the scream from the showers. You turned around just in time to see a green-haired with a face as red as a crayfish fleeing.

You giggled at that. You had no idea why, but you automatically knew it was an accident. That he just got slightly lost along the way.

You had a bar shift in the evening. You made the drinks and overall it was such a relaxed evening. You were serving one of the guests when out of the corner of your eye you saw a young man with green hair take a seat at the bar.

As soon as you served the guests in front of him, you went to him. You didn't even ask him what he would like and you immediately reached for a bottle of sake.

“One sake,” you smiled as you placed it in front of him. It wasn't until later that you realized you hadn't even asked him what he would like.

"It is good. This is what I wanted,” he said as if reading your mind. He gave you an encouraging smile before taking a drink.

You were a bit confused by this, you kept thinking about it. However, when you wanted to ask him what he meant, he was gone.

Thanks to your job, you very often worked late into the night or almost into the morning. You came home already tired and sleepy, it's a wonder you didn't fall asleep on the way.

You entered the house and headed to your bed after dark. You were walking around the couch when two strong hands grabbed you. You didn't protest because you knew who it was. That someone pulled you onto the couch and hugged you.

It happened that he rested his head on yours and then you fell asleep together. When you woke up in the morning, you were alone. 

It always felt like a pleasant dream to you, even though you had the impression that you still smelled his scent for a while. However, instead of him, a green teddy bear was lying next to you.

As soon as you woke up, you knew it was going to be a bad day. You first woke up by falling out of bed and spent the whole morning looking for a green teddy bear.

You searched the entire bedroom and almost turned the entire apartment upside down. But he was nowhere. As if he had sunk into the ground.

You thought that made your bad luck go away as nothing out of the ordinary happened during the day.

The evening came and you went to work. However, you were still wondering where the teddy bear had gone. The shift went smoothly like clockwork and everything indicated that it would be a classic evening.

Your friend finished the last of the dishes and you went to lock up when someone grabbed your arms and you felt a knife blade against your neck.

"Don't try anything. Now go inside and you give me all the money. You understand?" the man asked you.

“Yeah,” you breathed. You were afraid that if you nodded in agreement, he would cut you.

“Good. Now move!” he commanded. You led him inside. You understood from the steps that other people were following him. This was seriously a douchebag day.

"Hello, handsome. All the money here, or there will run blood! ” he commanded as you entered. When your colleague saw this, he turned completely pale in this, his hands were tied.

"And hands up! I don't want you accidentally pressing some smart button that will alert the cops!” he added.

Your friend nodded his head in agreement and immediately put his hands up. He didn't want anything to happen to you. He walked over to the cash register and opened it in front of them. Another man walked over to him with a bag of money.

However, before he could take the money out of the cash register, the door burst open and a green-haired young man stood panting in them.

“Finally found it,” he said before frowning. “Hey look Y/N let go! ” he growled dangerously, went inside and closed the door behind him.

"Hold your horses. For now, I'm the one who is holding hostage!” the man who was holding you by the neck snapped at him.

"Zoro!" you called to him pleadingly, fear in your eyes. After that, the man pressed down on your neck until a faint trickle of blood appeared on your skin.

That was the only sign Zoro needed. Out of nowhere, he pulled out three swords, one of which he held with his teeth.

“Hey, don't try any bullshit,” the brute warned him and took a step back with you. His minions rose before him with their weapons aimed at the swordsman.

However, he only frowned more before running towards the brutes. It was a short fight, there was shooting, but the only ones who fell to the ground were the brutes. Zoro stood in front of you with a drawn sword, the tip of which was a millimetre from the neck of the man holding you.

"If you don't want to lose your head, give up! ” he growled at him and by his expression he meant it dead serious. The brute looked at his men writhing in pain on the ground and then at Zoro.

Finally, he pushed you in the swordsman's direction and ran away. Zoro caught you but turned to face the bastard, who he hit in the back of the head with the blunt side of his sword. The man froze before falling to the ground.

You were relieved it was over as soon as Zoro put away his swords you hugged him. He was your solid point that you could rely on.

“I'm so glad you showed up,” you breathed. Zoro wrapped one arm around your waist and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with the other. He has never seen you so scared and upset before. You weren't shaken out like this even before the nightmares.

“Thanks for the rescue, but who are you? Y/N’s boyfriend?” your colleague asked walking over to you. He already had a phone with the police number ready in his hand.

"I'm her protector," Zoro replied, though he paused for a moment.

“Sure,” your colleague smiled as he could see how things were between you two. Or so he thought. He then went outside to call the police and wait for them.

"How is it possible?" you asked him as the two of you found alone at the bar. "I thought you were just a dream."

“Do you remember the promise I made to you when I first saved you?” he asked instead, looking into your eyes. You nodded your head in agreement. That was the first time he saved you from a nightmare.

"I promised you that I would protect you. I'm your protector and that doesn't only apply in dreams, but also here," he said surprisingly softly as he caressed your cheek.

“Thank you,” you replied and kissed him softly in return. When you pulled away, you saw him momentarily lost for words and blushing. Finally, he smiled mischievously and asked for one more. After all, he just saved your life today. Literally.

You just giggled at that before obliging him. However, the next kiss was much longer as Zoro took the initiative.

After that, you went outside together to wait for the police to arrive. It was a long and challenging day. You stood to the side and Zoro hugged you from behind. You leaned on him and you felt safe. Before you knew it and before the police arrived, you fell asleep.

Zoro not only supports you so you don't fall but also protects you so no one wakes you up. Anyone who wanted to talk to you or accidentally wake you up was met with such a stern look that everyone gave up. Not even the police could do anything against him.

When they finally left, Zoro took you home. He was able to get there without getting lost because that place was directly connected to you. He carried you carefully so you wouldn't wake up. At your house, he put you to bed and lay there with you.

Zoro Masterlist

Sleep Protector Masterlist

[wintersoldiersoul]

I just realised you already have a post similar to my previous ask so maybe could you write something where Bucky noticed reader was struggling with self harm a while ago and thought she was better but she isn’t and he helps her 🥺

TW: self-harm, blood, depression, please do not read if any of these things will upset you. Love you all and reach out to someone if you need to <3

You didn’t know what had happened. You couldn’t even remember how you had ended up where you were. One second you were crying in bed and suddenly you were on the bathroom floor, blade in your hand and covered in fresh cuts. 

It had been so long. You were doing so well, about a week away from being 2 years clean. You tried so hard to prevent it from happening but Bucky being gone made it so much harder. When you had first told him about your self-harm and depression, he had sat down with you and made a “safety-plan”.

“If you feel like you’re gonna hurt yourself, the first step is find me, okay?” He had spoken sternly. “If I’m not here, you call. And if I don’t answer on the first try, you keep calling. Second step is to distract yourself. Go on a walk, bake something, it doesn't matter. Just don’t let yourself sit in the dark thoughts.” As he spoke, he wrote everything down on a piece of paper. “And listen,” he grabbed your hands and looked into your eyes. “If I don’t answer, for some reason, you call someone else. You call Natasha or Tony or any other person in your life. You cannot let yourself be alone when you feel this way.” You nodded, fully planning on doing just that if the time ever came. But when you woke up this morning filled with a primal need to hurt yourself, you didn’t even remember the plan.

It was like nothing mattered except for feeling the blade against your skin and watching the blood pour out. The emotional pain that you were in needed to escape. You needed to feel it in a physical capacity. So you didn’t call Bucky. Because you knew he’d stop you. And you didn’t wanna be stopped. 

You regretted it the second you made the first cut. All of that progress you had made, gone within the blink of an eye. You’d have to remember to erase the day marking your 2 years clean on your calendar. The shame you felt didn’t stop you though. It just made you want to hurt yourself more. You were ashamed and felt like a failure. You cried as you dragged the blade over your wrists, mumbling to yourself how stupid and worthless you were. How you always let everyone down. 

You dissociated as you cut, robotically moving to your thighs once you ran out of space on your arms. You couldn’t stop, even as you grew dizzy from the blood loss. Your head was pounding from it and the dehydration caused by your tears but you couldn’t bring yourself to get up off the floor. Eventually, you put the blade down but you continued crying, the crimson of your blood staining the white-tile floor.

You didn’t hear the front door open. Didn’t hear Bucky calling out for you, home from the mission. His heart sped up as he walked further into the house, hearing your broken sobs coming from the bathroom. “Y/N? Sweetheart?” He called, getting closer. He didn’t wanna frighten you but his gut told him that something was incredibly wrong. He knocked on the door, but you didn’t register it. There was no time for you to even attempt to cover up what you had done, plus you knew he’d find out eventually. Bucky’s favorite thing to do when he got home from a mission was to rip your clothes off.

His heart stopped when he opened the door. There you were, hugging your knees to your chest, crying hysterically and bleeding out. There was so much blood coming from your arms and your thighs. “Oh my god,” was all he could say as he rushed over to you. “Oh my god, oh my god,” he kept repeating, trying to assess the damage you had done to yourself. “Baby, can you hear me? It’s me, it’s Bucky,” he said, trying to get you to calm down and talk to him. You were still in your own little world as you cried. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried, fully realizing that he was there. He grabbed you and hugged you tightly and you could feel his body shaking as he did. “I’m so sorry,” you sobbed into his chest.

“Baby, we gotta stop this bleeding or I’m gonna have to take you to the hospital.” He wanted to talk this out with you, to comfort you, but right now, you were bleeding out in his arms. “Can I move you? I’m just gonna sit you up on the sink, okay?” You nodded and he gingerly moved your body so that you were perched on the sink, back against the mirror as it was hard to hold yourself up. He created makeshift tourniquets, a skill that he still had from the war, and wrapped them around your arms and legs. “Oh my god,” he said, once again.

You looked up at him with wide eyes. “I got blood on your shirt…” you whispered quietly.

“It doesn’t matter, don’t worry about it.” He assured you, cupping your face in his hands. “I gotta clean these cuts, I’m sorry,” he said, removing the tourniquets once the bleeding had mostly stopped. You winced as he dabbed at your skin, the sting from the contact immediate. “I know, sweetie, I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated words of encouragement to you. “Just breathe, please. Take a deep breath. It’s almost over.” He took his time in ensuring everything was clean and that the bleeding was stopped before he applied bandaids. “What did you do, baby?” He looked up at you with sadness in his blue eyes. “You-you’re covered,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper as tears started falling down his face.

You looked down, too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “I don’t know what happened… I just woke up today and it just hurt so much and I just… I don’t know. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Why didn’t you call me? What about your plan, remember?” 

“I knew you’d stop me…” Your voice held so much shame.

“You’re damn right I would have!” His voice grew loud, but he wasn’t yelling at you. He knew you couldn’t help the mental illness you struggled with. And he saw how hard you fought every single day. Even though you had slipped up, he was still so incredibly proud of the time you had spent clean and he would dedicate every second to helping you get back on track. As long as you were willing to try, how could he be mad at you? “I’m not angry at you, I’m just… oh god, I’m terrified. I’d be worried no matter what if you relapsed but baby, you did some serious damage.” 

“I know,” you said. “I’m so angry at myself. I was a week away from 2 years. And I fucked it all up!”

He tilted your chin up so that you were looking at him. “Do you wanna stay clean again? Do you wanna get back on track?” You nodded. “Then you didn’t fuck anything up, okay? You’re human and you struggle. That's normal and okay. Of course I wish you didn’t do this. I hate seeing you in pain more than anything in this entire world. But baby, don’t be angry with yourself. Use that emotion as motivation to continue getting better. Please don’t let this send you spiraling back down into a place that’s gonna be even harder to get out of.”

You wiped some tears off of your face. “It’s so hard being alive, Bucky. Even on the good days, the depression is always there in the back of my mind. Even when I’m happy, it’s like I’m never really happy. Maybe true happiness just isn’t in the cards for me. I just wanna end it.”

“Honey…” your words broke his heart. You could see it on his face. “I know how hard it is and how much you struggle. You have no idea how badly I wish I could take away all of your pain. Seeing you like this… god, it breaks me apart. I’m so scared for you. I’m so worried about you,” his body was still shaking slightly. “But you deserve happiness. You deserve it more than anyone. You have such a beautiful soul and you inspire me every single day that you get up and live your life even though you struggle. Happiness is in the cards for you. I know that because I will spend every waking minute of the rest of my life trying to make you happy.” He brushed your hair behind your ears. “I love you so much. Please don’t leave me here alone. I-” he took a deep breath, trying to hold back tears but failed as they slipped out anyway. “I can’t do this without you. I can’t be in this world without you.” 

He pulled you into a tight hug, resting your head on his chest. The two of you stayed like that, both crying against each other’s bodies. It was heartbreaking, the way your sadness broke him, too, like you were one soul sharing two bodies.

“Let’s get you into some clean clothes, okay? You’ll feel better.” Your shorts and shirt were both stained with red. He helped you change into a pair of clean pants and a sweatshirt, being extra careful as he noticed your grimaces of pain each time the material touched your skin. You both got into bed, exhausted from the intense emotional turmoil that the night had stained you with. 

The two of you lay on your sides facing each other. Bucky wordlessly stroked your hair, looking deep into your eyes. “I’m never gonna abandon you. No matter how many times you slip up. I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed your forehead before pulling you into a tight hug. “Never.”

[miniherodesktales]

Sick Days

It was Tuesday morning, a time Lister usually avoided by sleeping until mid-afternoon, but not today. Today he had chores and sick crew mates to care for.

'Again, Bob?! Seriously, don't!'

Chore one: free Bob the Scutter from the toilet. Remind him that there is no treasure down there. That was a lie.

Lister hoses the Scutter down in the shower and finishes just as the alarm started blaring.

Chore two: put the fire out. Cat doesn't like his pancakes being all "flamey". Curry sauce is good at dousing the flames. A little ketchup sweetens them up.

Even when ill the Cat looks elegant, reclining on the sofa in a pink silk dressing-gown and matching slippers.

'I want salmon, bud,' he rasps. 'And milk in a saucer with a gold straw.'

'You've just eaten.'

'Gotta keep my strength up.' The Cat coughs weakly. 'I feel really bad. My eyes are growing weak. I think I'm really going...'

Lister's watch starts beeping.

'Fine! Just give me 10 minutes.'

'Don't be long!' The Cat opens a magazine.

Chore 3: Ignore Kryten

'I'm sorry I'm not well enough to help with the daily chores, sir, I feel terrible.'

'It's fine, Kryten. Stop going on.'

'Very well.'

'....Well?'

'Well what, sir?'

'What did you call me for?'

'Just to say sorry, sir.'

'That's it? Kryten, I've just ran down the corridor to help you!'

'Oh, alright, I just wanted to make sure that you've washed the mop heads correctly. Because if you don't use the right setting on the machine they shed, sir, they shed everywhere.'

'I have to go check on Rimmer!'

Chore 4: Calm Rimmer down

Ion storms had a strange effect on the hologram. Some storms would leave him a foul mood, while this one...

Lister stumbled against the wall as Rimmer hugged him tightly. He had leapt down from the top bunk and was now firmly latched onto Lister.

'Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back!' he sang. 'I missed you, Dave!'

Lister smiles wearily as he pulls himself free.

'Did you get any sleep at all?' he asked.

'How could I when everything is so wonderful and amazing and exciting? Why won't let me out? I can help. I can help with everything!'

'You know why. Because right now you're completely loopy.'

'But I'm bored!'

'Did you do the jigsaw?'

'Yes! But was too easy.'

Lister glances at the JMC medical standard issue subtle cognitive test jigsaw. A simple 10 piece puzzle of a sad looking holographic cat designed to help assess the mental capabilities of holograms whacked out by ion storms. The cat was crying, a single tear drop rolling its face.

Rimmer had neatly stacked the pieces into a tower and then dribbled honey all over it. It was topped with one of those paper novelty umbrellas silly people have in drinks.

'You might need another day off,' Lister concluded. 'Go to bed, go to sleep.'

'No! I want to go dancing! Come dancing with me! Your eyes are so beautiful.'

Another bear hug. Lister tries to push him towards the bunks.

'You're sick. I have chores.'

'I feel incredible! I have so much energy! Don't leave me!'

'Sorry.'

'I love you.'

'I love you too, but right now you're not in your right mind.'

Suddenly Rimmer's mood shifts with the storm.

'I hate you!' he snarls. 'I love-hate you! I hate that so much!'

'That's my man. Be back later.'

Chore 101: Sleep

Much, much later, Lister drags his feet back to the back room. Rimmer is fast out on the sofa. The room was a terrible mess, with books, clothes, mugs, and video games flung everywhere, but it's a relief to see him resting, a good sign that he was finally in the recovery stage.

Lister covers him over with the weighted blanket.

Rimmer stirs.

'I said something...' he mumbles thickly, words slurred. 'I said I hated you...sorry...'

Lister smooths back his hair. 'Not to me. You must have dreamt it.' He kisses Rimmer's cheek. 'Back to sleep. You'll have a migraine tomorrow.'

Rimmer holds onto his hand. 'Stay.'

Lister squeezes his hand back. 'Okay.'

[ownedbythescribe]

Wanderer/Scaramouche | Vanilla Coffee

ıllı Synopsis: As sweet as vanilla coffee? Yes, that's how you would describe your boyfriend. Why? Because all dark thoughts disappear with just a single word from him.

ıllı Genre: Fluff, Modern AU

ıllı Notes: Use of his first name ‘Kunikuzushi’, Gender Neutral Reader, Engineering Student Reader

ıllı A/N: I had been thinking of trying out modern AU lately, and I ended up with Scara. I’m not sure if I did good here, but I’m happy with it. When will I get myself a guy like this? *sob sob*

It was officially the 28th hour that you had been wide awake for the week, sleep thrown out of the window. The cherry on top, it was just Wednesday. The glare from your laptop's screen started to irritate your eyes, so you opted to lean back and close your eyes for a moment. Exhaustion blanketed your body, and the stiffness of your neck was another fact of the number of hours you had been doing your project. Turning to the side, you saw your roommate still sleeping. There was a 7 AM class waiting for her later, though, while yours decided to use the time to let the groups finish the design project for finals week.

'What a great time to run into problems. Just fantastic.' If anyone were to talk to you right now, they would be barraged with sarcastic comments. It was not something you wished for others to receive so early in the morning. Still, the lack of sleep and fatigue from researching sample calculations for the dryer section of paper production depleted your patience.

After 30 minutes of rest, you heard a notification sound from your phone. It was your partner messaging you about a plausible sample they found online. You hastily opened the document and noticed the similarities to the equipment you had been designing for a couple of days. Sending a happy sticker, you asked if they could do the final touches to the chapters prior to the computation section. You informed them that you would take the calculations part and send it to them for rechecking. You planned to have the paper assessed by the professor before the presentation.

“Are you sure? I can help out a bit. We can meet up later by City Cafe.” They suggested, eager to help, considering that you had been stressing over the matter for hours.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry. Plus, this is a good way to release some tension from all that research we did last night. Be back in a few hours!” You chimed.

With renewed energy, you stood up and sauntered toward your roommate, who was happily snoring away. You nudged her awake, but she entirely turned around and mumbled words of "five more minutes." By then, you knew she meant another hour. You called for her name again, and as if annoyed, she smacked you square in the face. It was neither light nor heavy.

"If you don't wake up this second, I'll throw your cinnamonroll plushie in the toilet." You threatened, having enough of her antics. She bolted up from her bed and then noticed the redness on your face. Knowing her sleeping habits, she quickly apologized. It was almost comical, but you were too weary to entertain it. Sighing, you ordered her to get ready for class before grabbing cereal for breakfast.

While munching on it, you started solving the design for the dryer. The document made it easy to follow, but you needed additional data to complete it, so you re-read another article you used as a basis. Suddenly, your phone buzzed. Plastered on the screen was your boyfriend's name, "Kuni <3". People know him as Scaramouche, but you prefer to call him Kuni. He was skeptical at first, but it grew on it. Although, it was only you who was allowed to do so.

“Hey, do you have classes today?” Scaramouche asked. You squinted your eyes at the camera. It looked like he was walking by the gardens near the pharmacy building. Honestly, you envied how the school's budget was poured into that place. They had a scenic park outside, and the laboratories were top-notch.

"Luckily, no, because this project is killing me." You groaned, scratching away at the paper on your desk. Another data was missing, so you checked the excel file for it. You did not notice your boyfriend staring at your face. He could see how stressed and tired you had been. Sleep forgotten in the midst of accomplishing the project.

"Is it due this week?" He asked. You took in a deep breath before shaking your head. He let out a sigh, but before he could berate you, you let him know that it was because of the schedule proposed to finish the paper. He was still conflicted but accepted it nonetheless. Pausing for a moment, you watched him walk to his building. It was slightly covetous how relaxed the indigo-head was compared to you.

Scaramouche tapped his ID in the scanner before looking back at you. He caught your stare. In the pit of his stomach, he hated that you neglected yourself again. He clicked his tongue instinctively before telling you to get at least a power nap after doing the computation.

"All right, but this might take a while. Oh, you're going in already? See you by the end of the week for our date?" You asked, hope evident in your tone. He could not say no to your puppy face.

"Yeah. Don't collapse on me, all right, doofus? Love you." He teased. You grinned, shaking your head at his mean nickname. He repeated his goodbye before ending the call. You missed him already.

"Stop with the long face. Here, I cooked some eggs and ham. Got you some rice too." Your roommate nudged. You took it from her hands and thanked her.

She went to the closet while scolding you for staying up all night considering that you have a weak immune system. You assured her that you had been taking vitamins every day. She was not convinced.

"That's not enough. Scaramouche is right. Take a power nap after that whatnot you're doing. I'll get going now, or the professor will kill me this time. Don't forget to lock the door before you sleep!" She reminded, dashing out of the dorm. You shook your head at her strange chirpiness.

Once again alone in your own world, you continued with your endeavors. You moved from determining the drying properties of the conveyor dryer to its design parameters. The good thing about the latter portion was it was based on heuristics alone, so you could simply pull out a handbook and search for the formula there. It was the computation for the cylinders' length and number that was lengthy.

"All right. That should do it. If my partner approves this, the next part would be to render the 3D model in SolidWorks." You murmured, exhaustion catching up to your body.

The document was immediately sent. You stoop up to stretch, only to collapse on your side of the bed. Your eyes felt hot and heavy, breathing unsteady. It felt like the world crashed on your body, so you closed your eyes. A hushed promise to wake up after an hour or two slipped from your lips.

“Hey, I’m coming over after class. Don���t forget to lock the door. I know you have a security guard downstairs, but you can never be too careful.

-Kuni”

After what seemed like hours, you blearily opened your eyes to the sigh of familiar indigo hair by your bedside. Scaramouche was taking out medicine bottles and fruits. It seemed like an illusion, probably a dream even. He did not have any reason to come to your dormitory.

Unable to help yourself, you reached to brush off his hair. He was startled by the action, but when he glanced at your dazed look, he sighed. He touched your forehead, the coldness of his hand enticing you. A chuckle left his lips at the sight of you trying to nuzzle into his hand.

"Good to see you awake, sleepyhead. Here, eat this. Drink your medicine after." He instructed. A little bit of clarity reached your mind, so you sat up and tilted your head in confusion. What was the medicine for? Catching sight of it, he replied.

"You had a small fever by the time I got here. I assume you were not able to read my text and simply fell asleep. Not to mention, you left the door unlocked. What am I going to do with you?" He scolded. You stared owlishly, a bit apologetic but dazed. Then, you saw a coffee by the kitchen table.

"Vanilla latte?" He nodded. You were about to ask for it when he glared at you, clearly compelling you to eat first and drink the medicine. The coffee could wait, but your fever would not.

Succumbing to his orders, you finished the food he prepared for you. It was chazuke, his specialty. You were unsure if it was because you were sick, but it tasted better than before. Subsequently, you downed the bitter medicine. It was a bit difficult to swallow, but you held it in. When you showed him that you were done, he gave you the coffee with a headpat in tow.

"Don't stay up late tonight. You finished your task for the day, right?" There was a concerned glimmer in his eyes. It seemed like you worried your boyfriend again. Not like he was not used to it, but it was better to remind you to take care of yourself. He loved you too much to get tired of it anyway.

"I won't. Let me check my phone first to see if they approve of it. Hmm? Oh, I made a mistake in the last part. I'll fix it tomorrow, then have the model rendered. 'Thanks! Let's rest for tonight', and send." You grinned. It was nice to be ahead of your schedule. Scaramouche nodded, putting away the bowl and medicine. Deep inside, he was proud of you and wanted to smother you with kisses, but that would be out of character for him. He knew being an engineering student was tough, but you held on to it because it was your dream.

"Kuni, are you going home early after this?" You asked. He was washing the dishes but said he might because his roommate passed him the task of making dinner tonight. It was infuriating how irresponsible the guy was sometimes, but he let it slide today.

Hearing his answer saddened you. There was a part of you that wanted him to stay and cuddle up, but it might be too selfish to ask. A dejected hum left you, which did not sit well with him.

"Don't worry. I can stay for a bit longer. I'm sure Heizou can hold himself for hours of no food." He finished putting the plates away and joined you in bed. You leaned on him as he smoothened your hair. His warmth was comforting, pushing away the fatigue that crept up your spine. It made you feel fuzzy. Sometimes, you thought having him by your side was too good to be true, but he scoffed at it. His words still rang in your ears.

"I chose you. You are mine, as I am yours."

All dark thoughts were blown away. You did not want to let go, and he would not let you do so.

"Thank you." He held you closer, then kissed your forehead.

"Always."

Please don’t copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[mapofthewrld]

teammates

in which ; after a long battle, the team takes a nap in their living room. it's only when the sun starts to set when sonic wakes up, surrounded by his sleeping friends <3

it's hard for sonic to tell where he is. only the crinkling of a magazine page grounds him, making him aware of his own consciousness. slowly, he is able to feel the softness of fur beside him, the fabric of the couch under him, and the quiet snores of another nearby. and, of course, the occasional crinkle of plastic paper.

with a soft grunt, he opens his eyes. warm sunlight floods his vision. after assessing his situation, he concludes it is reflecting off of the wall from the window behind him; one he recognizes as his own.

as his vision settles and he deems himself awake, he peers around him. four sleeping forms are all laying around his living room. a black hedgehog with red highlights is slumped over an armchair, drool threatening to fall from his lips. a red echidna and an orange fox (both he recognizes as his brothers) share the couch with him. knuckles snores away with his feet hanging off the edge, while his head is in the lap of tails, who's namesakes are touching his two brothers respectively. his head is resting softly on sonic's shoulder.

as he looks down, he sees a faint pink hue from beside his other armchair. upon closer inspection, it appears to be a pink hedgehog, leaned up against the chair on the ground. her head is lulled back, and he can see gentle breaths from the rise and fall of her chest.

but it seems there is another. lounging on the chair, legs crossed and arms folded, looking lazily at a magazine, sat a white bat. her emerald green eyes scanned the pages swiftly. she moved her hand to turn another page (the source of the crinkling, it seems) before she glanced up at sonic. surprised, she put her hand back down and leaned back.

"good morning, sleeping blue-ty."

a soft chuckle came from both sonic and rouge's lips. it seems, when not engaged in battle, the two had much in common. "hey rouge," came a quiet whisper. sonic's head gently swerved, looking aimlessly around his living room. "what time is it?"

rouge, closing her magazine, smiles and sets it down beside her. "oh, it's about sunset. you should probably just go back to sleep, since you'll be going soon anyways."

sonic snorted. "me? trust me, i've had more than eno... yawn.... enough sleep today. i'm ready to take on the day!" he quickly realizes his mistake, covering his mouth with both gloved hands. none of the sleeping parties seem to have been bothered.

"i didn't take you as the night type."

"oh, yeah? and you are?"

"...i'm a bat, blue."

"oh. right."

rouge gives a giggle at her friend forgetting her nocturnal habits. she grabs her magazine from off the table beside her, choosing to open it to a different page this time. "but seriously, just go back to sleep. i'll take care of everything here."

sonic laughs softly. "you're only here because you want to raid my kitchen." with a melodramatic gasp, rouge lays a hand on her chest in mock offense. "me? staying for just your food? i'll have you know i came over to check on you lot! just for that.... i think i get the rights to make some mac n cheese before i leave."

the two chuckle, and sonic nods. "whatever you say, rouge." he slumps back down into the couch, careful not to wake his brothers. as he settles back in, tails grabs his arm, cuddling into it. his two tails twitch in unison. sonic rests his head on top of tails'. in the company of his brothers and friends (his teammates...), he thinks that, just maybe, everything is perfect.

[vohannesvotrov]

so hi good morning this is a post very outside of my normal posting but i am so mad that this is happening here now

the beginning of this story is that i am attending a virtual two-day conference regarding the implications of revising the regulatory definition of lead-based paint. and for the first presentation, there were these two graphs shown.

i got really mad because no recent study would use the words "'mentally retarded'", and so i had a feeling that this had to be outdated as all hell.

i did a deep dive into this, trying to figure out where the hell it could have come from. i found one article, paywalled of course, that referenced these conclusions, and had the same graphs but of higher quality.

these two graphs were part of Rice, D. (2020). Neurodevelopmental toxicants1. In J. Nriagu (Ed.), Encyclopedia of Environmental Health. That visual reference listed the source as being Weiss, B. (1988). Neurobehavioral toxicity as a basis for risk assessment. Trends in Pharmacological Sciences 9, 59–62.

one really obvious thing that stood out to me is that this paper cited is only 3-4 pages long. there's no way this is the original study. i found the 1988 paper, which had these graphs as Figure 4. the source of this information is introduced as follows:

"A recent study^12 of lead levels in umbilical cord blood assigned children to three groups: low, medium and high, with respective means of 1.8, 6.5 and 14.5 mcg/dL. Even the high lead group fell far below the value considered to present a hazard; yet children in this group, at the age of 24 months, scored about 8% below the other children on the Mental Development Index of the Bayley Scales of Infant Development".

the recent study, noted as superscript 12, was Bellinger, D., Leviton. A., Watemaux, C.. Needleman. H. and Rabinowitz. M. (1987) N. Engl. i. Med. 316, 1037-1043, or "Longitudinal Analyses of Prenatal and Postnatal Lead Exposure and Early Cognitive Development". i skimmed through this study, and noted that there is no discussion of IQ, as the study utilized the Mental Development Index (MDI) for infants up to 24 months of age. MDI and IQ are not at all equivalent measures, so then were did this bitch Weiss get the conclusions on IQ?

the answer shortly follows the introduction of the data. it is that "Individual attribution of risk would not apply to this study because none of the children displayed any demonstrable deficits. Viewed in societal terms, however, the implications are compelling."

so what does this mean? that this pair of graphs from 1988 have been touted as truth, when it is merely based off of implications of societal harms that weren't even measured in the 1987 study!!!!! the conclusions of these graphs from 1988 are potentially entirely baseless, at the bare minimum because MDI is not mappable onto IQ, and even moreso, because the author just made it up!!! the bitch Weiss saw the conclusions of the 1987 study and just went "hmmm but what if society...."

[legendary-pink-dot]

Esteemed Professor,

I saw your post about Frankie's scar and had a question. How much time do you think elapsed between this

And this

And what happened in between the two moments in time?

Oooh another ask! About Frankie! Is it my birthday? 🥳 Thank you Jess! 💜

My HC is that 2-3 days elapsed between their escape on the boat and their final goodbyes.

That was enough time for their Accountant to fly in (if she hadn't been there already and waiting), make all the financial arrangements with the banks, and draw up the paperwork.

Frankie went straight to their hotel and slept for 14 hours straight. Then took a long hot shower, assessed his various scrapes and pains. Finally, he slowly shaved his face, physically and mentally cleansing himself of everything he'd done in this shitshow of a job. At this point he was OK with it all because he assumed he'd still get some money out of it to help with his new baby expenses and its college fund. 😬

He also went into town and bought himself that lovely crane shirt (I love it and will fight anyone who mocks it). Had a big steak dinner with the guys, an early night for more sleep, then got up the next morning ready to sign the papers and head home.

We all know how that worked out. Poor Frankie.

[bodywyrcs]

Ice, ice baby?

On Monday morning I was about half a mile into my jog when my right hamstring tightened up suddenly - I’d strained it! Annoying! Especially as I was feeling really strong that morning, but that’s always the way, isn’t it? I had to walk home slowly, feeling it pulling the whole way and in hindsight I can see that the perfect storm of temperatures dropping and my warm up routine being woefully inadequate was too much for my poor little muscles to take. Plus my body is no longer as young as my brain thinks it is. Sigh. 

Now this is the moment where we quite often start sinking into a bit of self-pity; imagining how this is going to scupper all our carefully curated plans; trying to understand what went wrong this time and who to blame (me, it was definitely me); feeling irritated and even catastrophising about how you’ll NEVER GET BETTER, THIS IS IT, HAMSTRINGS NEVER HEAL PROPERLY!!! (PS this obviously isn’t true, this is just your brain and its silly negative bias kicking in to try and protect you. Honestly, its a real thing, we’re hard-wired to react more to negative stuff, you can read more here: https://www.verywellmind.com/negative-bias-4589618 ) 

So, allowing the negative thoughts to take over is definitely a no-go, which leaves the question: What should we do post-injury?

I’m guessing you might have heard of the ‘RICE’ protocol. This is an idea that has been so ingrained in western society, especially in sports, that it still clings on to this day - that post-injury we should Rest, Ice, Compress and Elevate. Nevermind that Dr. Gabe Mirkin, who invented the concept back in 1978 (almost 50 years ago!), has since used evidence-based research to demonstrate that complete rest and icing might actually be kinda bad for us: https://drmirkin.com/fitness/why-ice-delays-recovery.html  

When I trained as a Sports Therapist back in 2014 I learnt the POLICE rehab protocol, which completely removed the ‘Rest’ element and replaced it with Protect, followed by Optimal Loading and then Ice, Compress, Elevate. So instead of wrapping ourselves up in a blanket and avoiding any movement until the pain had gone away we were encouraged to keep moving while protecting the injured area from getting any worse because ‘early activity encourages early recovery’. Let’s face it, a pulled hamstring doesn’t impair the whole body, so why should the whole body suffer? Plus you can only really assess muscle repair through gradual loading - complete rest followed by 100% effort will generally only lead you back to injury!

With POLICE we still have this inclusion of ice, but in 2011 when the research paper was written there was only one quality study on the actual effects of ice on acute muscle tears, so it was still a bit of a stab in the dark. Story time: I vividly remember at the 2011 Rugby World Cup there being a story about Dan Lydiate having injured his ankle in the Samoa game. He iced it every 2 hours for 3 days. Let that sink in. This elite athlete did not sleep properly for 3 days so he could stick ice on his ankle for 10 minutes every 2 hours. Knowing what we know now about the absolute importance of sleep - especially in a fast-paced, high-impact, decision-making role at world cup level - makes this seem completely mad. And yes, he was ‘fit’ for the Ireland game, but was it because of the icing and no sleep, or despite it? After all, he had a month to recover; plus he went on to reinjure a month later on the same ankle, which makes you wonder whether he was healed, or just a bit numb.

Anyway, moving onto what we now know and how we’ve adapted the rehab process. I’ve gone from needing to rest my hamstring, to needing to keep it moving while also icing and compressing and elevating it. But now, if you’re injured you’re recommended to give it PEACE & LOVE. Oh yes, its a big old acronym, created in 2019 so still fairly new in terms of medicine. Stick with me, its hefty but worth while! Here we go… 

We still start off with Protecting because in first aid we never, ever want to make an injury worse, or stop it from healing. Pain levels can be your guide here (usually). What can you do, what makes it worse, what feels ok. Me and my hamstring were ok with a slow walk so I knew that stopping running, in that moment I injured it, was protection enough for me.

They’ve also left Elevate in there. The idea is that we elevate the injury above the heart, potentially to promote fluid to flow from the area and stop blood being pumped so vigorously to the area in the case of a bleed or bruise. But as they state, there is weak evidence for elevating and its effects on recovery, but there isn’t any risk associated with it, so crack on!

A is for ‘Avoid Anti-Inflammatory Modalities’. Yep, that means you ice! And ibuprofen! And Cryotherapy, possibly you too, but they’re not entirely sure…Basically, inflammation is a healing process. You stop inflammation on a new injury, you stop the healing. Sometimes it can feel nice as pain relief, sometimes it can be better than loading up on tablets, but in a fresh injury, if you can, move away from the ice and let nature do its job.

C is still for Compress. A gentle compression (some leggings or a tubular bandage depending what you’re compressing) can help limit swelling and I suspect the gentle pressure can offer some light relief from the discomfort too! Again, not hugely evidence supported, but not damaging (that we know of…yet…science is great isn’t it!?)

E is for Educate. The more you understand how your body works, the better - which means understanding that getting your body fit and healthy again is going to involve effort and some commitment. I always say to my clients, your improvement depends on how much you’re willing to commit to the process. Passive treatments like massage and acupuncture have their benefits, a TENS machine might help with pain management for a while, but ultimately you need to use it or lose it - an active approach to rehab is vital for the best outcomes and passive treatments alone can only do so much!

Then we move onto the LOVE section, which you’ll probably come to a few days post-injury. 

L is for Load. Yep, you’ve got to move and load those muscles. The day after my hamstring injury I went to the gym to do exercises that did NOT exacerbate my pain. Stuck to upper body and core, used my legs where needed but didn’t isolate the hamstring muscle or overload it. Its all about getting to know your body, feeling the tightness or weakness and working with it - you don’t need to be an expert to experiment with how your body moves and works. If in doubt start super simple and build up gradually or talk to a fitness professional; there are some excellent people around here offering bespoke personal training services!

O is for Optimism. I love that they’ve included this one. Some people injure themselves and become defined by that injury and I honestly think it’s because as a society we are awful for loading all the bad stories we know, about someone who did something similar, onto a newly injured person. "Oh you hurt your ankle did you? My mate’s nephew did that, swells up every winter when it rains and can’t stand on it longer than an hour. Eventually got gangrene and his foot fell off.” I guarantee you, step into any room with an injury and you will hear ALL THE STORIES. But did you know that fear of your injury is related to poorer outcomes? By allowing yourself to stew over it, catastrophise and worry, you’re making the rehab pathway much harder than it should be. Optimism is simply knowing that there are real, practical things you can do to help yourself, and if you do those things you’ll heal really well and maybe get back to good as new before too long.

V is Vascularisation. Cool word. What this point means (and could have been better explained with Cardiovascular, but also LOCE isn’t a word) is that doing cardiovascular exercise is REALLY positive at this stage in rehab. Obviously it needs to be pain-free, but aerobic activity will get the blood pumping, get your joints moving (the ones that can!), improve mood and reduce the need for pain medication. Brilliant!

And finally, if you made it this far thank you for coming, E is for Exercise. And what we’re talking about here isn’t the same as the one above. It means targeted exercise on the injured area - again you can talk to someone like me who can go through exercise therapy with you, or you can try some gentle foundation exercises yourself, see how they feel, try to avoid pain (although sometimes there will be discomfort) and begin building back up using a regular routine to gradually increase load. 

So I think the main takeaway here is that injury rehab got a LOT more long-winded and complicated - but I think its always good to have information, and by that I mean good quality, evidence based information that can guide you safely through what can be a tricky time. 

For me and my little hamstring pull I think following the entire PEACE and LOVE process might be a bit of overkill. I went on a short, gentle jog/walk this morning and monitored how it felt, didn’t push it, walked the uphills when there was more pressure on my legs, got home and had a little stretch. Suspect I’ll pull through!

But if you’re going through a hefty rehab - maybe a broken bone, perhaps a muscle rupture or post-surgery and don’t know where to start, maybe this understanding can help you out a bit. Or maybe you just want to whack some ice on it and have a rest for a bit, the choice is yours! But like I said, your outcome after injury or surgery is only going to be as good as the effort you choose to put into your rehab. Feel free to get in touch if you’re wanting some advice or help to understand where you might be in your rehab journey - I’ve got lots of contacts too that are super-positive professionals in the industry of helping people get fit and moving again, so can recommend where you might get some Optimistic help from too!

Love, 

Cerys x

[softertoday]

i got a tattoo last night. i like it a lot. but when i got to the shop, there was loud music playing, the tv in my artist's room was playing with the volume all the way up, the big lights were on and there was a just lot happening. i was immediately overstimulated. it was scary because i was about to sit there for 3-4 hours and i wasn't sure how i was going to get through it while getting my leg blasted at the same time.

i texted my friend and she said i should use my airpods and just turn the noise cancelling feature on without any music or anything. and to be honest, i didn't even know that was a thing lol

so i did that and it helped. i was able to still talk to my artist and felt less overwhelmed. the lights were still really bright and florescent but i was able to get through it well enough that i didn't have a breakdown or shut down at all.

he asked me at one point was i spacing out, and i was like no i'm ok just chillin

but i was trying to get myself to stick around and not space out.

it was fine, and my tattoo looks great. but it was a lot. and then we went to the book warehouse thing today that was so completely overwhelming. i've had enough. i'm staying home for the next 5-7 business days.

i say that, but

i have a hair appointment on monday morning and a therapy session in the evening

my first intake appointment with the autism assessment provider on tuesday

wednesday i'll be home because i will be volunteering on the HelpLine and in meetings for the HelpLine

thursday i don't have anything at all (thank god) but i'll be doing schoolwork

friday i have to bring my car to the body shop and who knows how long i'll be there waiting for it

and then the next tuesday i have the actual autism assessment

and spring break is over. so i'll also be trying to get schoolwork done through all of that too.

i have my usual schoolwork, but i also have a pretty hefty paper due in 2 weeks that i actually need to work on as well.

i need a nap.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Seraph of Academia chpt.2

Return to File

Recovery date: March 19th, 2020

Description: Our favorite ONS teens training to be heroes! Will Yuu survive Guren's class? Will Yuu confess to Mika? And most importantly will the become heroes?

Notes: Unfortunately this series of entries was corrupted and recovery is unlikely, apologies for the inconvenience. This is an abandoned work

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7---Quirk List

Word count: 1 291

Back to directory

Finding class hadn’t been too hard, even if Yuu hadn’t paid much attention to the map. Mika was able to find his class and subsequently Yuu’s. Waving goodbye, they entered their respective classes. Dear god please be merciful and let Yuu have a calm first day, Mika thought taking his seat. His teacher was already there sorting through some papers. As the rest of the class filtered in and took their seats, thanks to tags on desks, the bell rang.

“Good morning everyone!” The teacher spoke, quieting the class.” I’m Sayuri-sensei, and I’m also the temporary school nurse so please be patient with me.”

Before she could continue a loud bang came from the room behind her. While the class jumped and looked worriedly at the wall, she just sighed. Opening her mouth to continue, the wall behind her shook. You could hear arguing from the room before what sounded like “ Alright everyone get changed and meet outside!”

The whole class looked at eachother, Mika was probably the calmest. That was only because Yuu wasn’t in any pain and was only angry. Yuu being angry was nothing to worry about, it’s when he’s in pain Mika starts to worry. Sayuri-sensei just smiled and told them not to worry.

“That’s class 1-A’s teacher Guren-sensei!” She finally continued just as happily as earlier.” Don’t worry, that class will be fine.”

“Are you sure sensei? The wall was shaking,” someone said from the back of the class.

“Yup! Now, while class 1-A does their physical assessment we’ll go meet the support class. You should try to befriend them as they’ll be the ones to help with costume adjustments.”

On the way to the support course building they caught a glimpse of what they could only assume was class 1-A’s assessment. They weren’t entirely sure because it looked more like two of the students were being held apart by the teacher. For the love of god! Mika thought, realizing that one of the students was Yuu. He’d have to ask about that at lunch. Assuming Yuu didn’t get expelled before then. How had he even made it this far?

Once in the support building they were shown too one of the first year classes. To get them rolling down the right path, a third year support class would be joining them. So there were three classes split into groups of three, a third year and two first years. Unfortunately, Mika had been dreading this, he had never been the best at making friends. Luckily, the first year support student wasn’t a complete stranger.

“Hello again,” he said, tapping his partner on the shoulder.

“AH!” he yelled, turning around. “Oh My God! I’m so so so sorry!”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“AH! I’m sorry. Hey, you’re the person I ran into this morning…” The boy calmed down, behind him their third year group member was doubled over laughing.

Mika looked at him glaring as he straightened out and whipped the tears from his eyes. Smiling the boy waved at Mika from behind the other support member.

“I’m Yoichi and this is Ashera-senpai,” he said, motioning to the boy behind him.

Ashera had turned back to Mika’s costume outline. He had pulled his hair into a ponytail and was taking notes. Mika and Yoichi sat down on the other side of the work space. Mika had never seen the official plan of his costume. Looking at it made him smile, they other children had “helped” him and Yuu design their costumes. So his and Yuu’s outfits looked a little like something a prince would wear in a fairytale.

His quirk wasn't very helpful in combat, so he had to work really hard in hand to hand combat. He could take some of their strength if he bonded with someone, and that’s where his knives came in. He really only needed a bit of blood and they’d be bonded for up to ten minutes. This meant his costume couldn’t weigh him down, so it was mostly light fabric with padding in some place.

“Awwww,” someone said from behind the two first years. “Does someone wanna be prince charming?” 

“Don’t you have your own first years to torment Noya?” Ashera asked, he looked behind them.

“I actually came to bother you!”

“Great…” Ashera grumbled. “Now go away before I get Mahiru-sensei.”

“Fine. I’ll see you later.”

“But, the design seems a little inconvenient,” Yoichi said, turning back to the paper. “There’s no protection. Would you mind if we changed it?”

“No. But, I want to keep the princely look. My siblings helped me design it, so it means alot,” Mika mumbled. 

“Then we could probably make a chainmail inner layer,” Ashera put in. “ There are materials that are thin and mobile that still offer some protection.”

---

Come lunchtime Mika had made minor changes to his costume, taken a physical assessment, and been given a tour of the school. In that time Yuu had been angry, angry, and...you get the point. The lunchroom was pretty crowded, it seemed like the whole school was there. In hindsight they probably should have come up with a meeting place. Why didn’t we make a meeting place? Mika wondered.

Suddenly there was a loud bang from across the cafeteria. Right, Mika thought. Akane and him had no doubt Yuu would start a fight. So they’d decided to just use him as a beacon. Now listening to the fighting as he got closer, he was wondering when he thought this was a good idea. Stumbling suddenly and feeling very disoriented, he picked up the pace. Usually sudden disorientation meant that Yuu got punched. 

“Yuu stop!” he heard Akane yell.

“He started it!” Yuu yelled back.

Finally, he pushed through the crowd that had formed. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t dropped his lunch on the way here. Setting it down on a nearby table he took in what was going on. Akane and a blond girl were trying to hold Yuu back, while Yoichi held back the pink haired man from this morning. Huh. He doesn’t look that strong, Mika thought, looking at Yoichi. 

“You’d think the teachers would have gotten involved by now,” someone said from beside Mika.

Someone else behind him yawned, “They’re so loud.”

“Yuu!” Mika yelled walking towards him, “I thought we told you not to pick a fight!”

“Mika,” Yuu said and stopped fighting against the two girls.

“Let’s go Kimizuki,” he heard Yoichi. “Sorry for disturbing you!” Yoichi apologized to the crowd as it began to disperse.

“You’ve got a LOT of explaining to do,” Mika growled. “I’ve been angry all day thanks to you,” he said, grabbing Yuu by his collar and dragging him over to where he’d left his food.

Akane, the blond girl from earlier, and another girl with purple hair joined them. Akane had brought over her lunch and Yuu’s from where they’d left it. 

“What do you want, Shinoa?” Yuu asked the girl with purple hair.

“Nothing,” she hummed and started eating.

“Mitsuba,” Akane said, poking the other gir, “these are my brothers Yuu and Mika. This is Mitsuba, she’s in my class.”

“Hey Yuu,” Shinoa asked, “Are you gonna introduce me?”

“Nope.”

---

“Guren,” Shinya whined, “Shouldn’t you have done something about that fight?”

Guren continued eating, watching the cafeteria from the corner. Him and Shinya were on lunch supervision with Sayuri. When the fight had started Guren had told them to wait it out. If it didn’t calm down quickly they’d intervene. 

“Nothing bad happened.”

“Will you at least tell us what happened this morning?” Sayuri asked quietly. “My class was worried when the wall started to shake.”

“Just a few hot headed brats. Nothing I can’t handle.”

[lethiwebhengu]

Overall, my first fieldwork week was quite busy and overwhelming. I will start the first day, Monday. A full day. We had orientation and a brief introduction to the Inkosi Albert Luthuli Central Hospital. The Chief OT there, emphasised to us that there is a high turnover. The first day went fine. We were assigned two patients each because of the high turnover. I had first gone to do a few assessments on my first patient which was a burns patient. I had never had a burns patient before, so it was going to be a learning experience.

He was 41-year-old male with TBSA 35% burns-bilateral upper neck, posterior neck, right post head, and ULs. He had had debridement on the burns last week and now waiting to be ready for skin grafting. but I met him when he was in a lot of pain, and I got scared and mistaken him for having an attitude. He had just changed his dressing that morning and in a lot of EXCRUTIATING pain. I didn’t do any muscle strength and ROM assessments, I settled for an interview and balance assessments (trunk impairment and bergs balance scale). I managed to get a little bit of background information on the patient although he had a high frustration tolerance that day, he was a bit co-operative. He is a brother to his sister; he lives with her and his 1 niece and 2 nephews in KwaMashu. The patient is single and has no children but regards his sisters as his own. His education level is grade 12 and he is currently unemployed but earns the employment relief fund of R350. His previous occupation was working in retail stores packing and assisting customers. He jogs inconsistently. The balance assessments showed he had good balance. The balance session took us about 25 minutes, and he was complaining and moaning about his pain throughout the session and took a break after 13 minutes, I concluded that he has poor muscle endurance.

Later that day, I went to visit my second patient or back up patient if you will. I was able to get background information, assessed bed mobility and left. There wasn’t much time left to be with him. He is a 33-year-old male diagnosed with thoracic myelopathy from T3. I had to go research a little bit on his diagnosis because I have never heard of it before. It is a nervous system disorder that affects the spinal cord in the muddle of the spine (thoracic) which is caused by a disease, compression or tumours in the spinal cord. The symptoms are having pain in the back or neck, abnormality walking, muscle weakness, problems with coordination, rhythmic muscle spasm, stiff muscles, loss of muscle, muscle quiver, or overactive reflexes. For Sensory function, the patient may experience pins and needles, reduced sensation of touch, or uncomfortable tingling and burning. Urinary: leaking of urine or urinary retention Also common: balance disorder. (Ventak. S.R 2018) The patient’s level of education was grade 12 and he works at DSW and picks up dirt from households. The patient has a stable partner (girlfriend) and toddler children that live in Ixopo. He currently stays at Sydenham for work. The patient can not turn on the bed independently, but his upper limbs work very well. I prioritised the muscle tone, muscle strength, sensation, ROM, oedema, and balance assessments for the following day.

For my backup patient I did the sensation assessment on Wednesday using fingers to poke the patient (deep touch), cotton wool (soft touch) and a paper towel covered safety pin (pain). The Asia scale pin prick and light touch score was 46/56. The patient could feel in all dermatomes of the body but could partially feel in anterior proximal part of his LLs and plantar area of his feet. The muscle tone assessment showed that he had a score of 1 for his lower limb muscle groups but they were inconsistent and would be 0. The patient has muscle spasms. The muscle groups for upper limb scores are 0. This means they are good. The patient can do 50% of AROM in his lower limbs and his muscle strength grade for them was 3-. The muscle strength assessment was done on Thursday after the activity with the first patient.

For my first patient the assessment of sensation showed that the patient’s bandaged areas (RUL, proximal part LUL, Head) were deep touched and the patient had his eyes closed to describe what he felt. The patient was able to feel the touch on his posterior part of the proximal RUL and forearm as well as hi whole LUL. The patient could not feel in his head (which may be due to very thick bandaging). Range of motion was very limited. Range of Motion for the left upper limb was tested through stretches (shoulder-reaching for ceiling and moving it back, elbow- flexing and extending, hand-making a fist, wrist- moving it in circular motion)  and was noted to not have any limited ROM. The same stretches were done for the RUL and limitation was observed. Therefore ROM was measured with the goniometers. I learned a lot of treatment methods that my supervisor taught about burns. She had taught me about using warm water to make the muscles tender so that they allow for more ROM, and she told me about scar massage. I watched YouTube videos (My favourite link below) to teach myself-ways to how I could do it. I plan to include these as warm up in my following sessions.

Thursday came (half day as well). I had organised a meal prep activity of sandwich making which did not challenge the patient at all. This activity was really bad, and my supervisor explained this to me. If I were to get a chance to redo it, I would have done a face washing activity and grooming using his affected RUL to allow for more ROM IN HIS RUL. The patient’s session would have been a little longer and since he has good standing balance, the activity would be done in standing.

Although this week was overwhelming, but I learnt to be more client centered in terms of client factors as well and not just context wise. The next intervention sessions for my second patient would start with balance as this is his biggest problem. My first patient’s would focus on ADLs that the patient is struggling to do, doing exercises on the RUL to prepare for activities and educate the patient more about the importance of educating the patient about doing exercises and massages to help heal the wounds faster. I plan to sit and analyse how I will adapt the activities, make him use his affected limb for his occupations which will be a bit tricky as the Barthel index shows that he is independent using his LUL.

LinK: Venkat,S.R. (October 2018). What Is Meopathy? Retrieved from  What To Know About Melopathy? https://www.webmd.com/brain/what-to-know-myelopathy

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKszhYKy-9w&ab_channel=Asociaci%C3%B3nPro-Ni%C3%B1osQuemadosdeNicaragua

[pizzaandfilteredwateratyourtable]

I wanted to use this site for the nostalgia value and for perspective. But mainly because it’s convenient as heck and I couldn’t fit all of this onto the leftover parchment paper in the Antimo’s pizza box lol. Anyways…

3 kids, 2 houses, and 1 billion hours of streaming movies, tv shows, and horrid child-targeted YouTube videos later, here we all are! A lot has changed, even more has stayed the same. Death, taxes, and Cocomelon, amiright?

Through it all, your House has always been an anchoring destination in every season. None greater than during Christmas time 🎄

Even back in Towaco when e v e r y o n e was still alive, [Town]House Cortez was the place to be! Gifts opened, grandma gossip exchanged, gung ho Doggo, and gang photos at morning’s end was peak holiday form. All of which was housed at your House. We’ve lost a few folks since then… but also gained some new blood with time 😊

And here we are back at it again at Casa Quarterz 😎

I don’t have much to add from the the previous Tumblr post. Although a few modifications seem to be in order:

Thank you for always allowing me a place by your hearth TV and meat pizza and mead filtered water at your table. Y’all have stayed true and never asked a service of me that might bring me into dishonor. 

No matter what anyone says or what others might see, I am most proud to be the sitter of your babies. I’ve clocked in more hours as Nanny Nonong than I have as a professional registered nurse. And I don’t have any reservations or regrets about it. From when it was only ParsiCarsi to now overseeing three of your tiny humans, it is always my distinct honor being The Manny to the kiddos.

Thanks for giving me work, putting money in my pocket, and allowing me to be your children’s guardian. I don’t take any of it for granted. Along with all the aforementioned things, this role is giving me time to breathe, rest, and plan for what I will make of myself in the years to come. I’m well aware not many people get a chance to take a step back, assess themself, and plan for their pivot towards building their livelihood. So I promise not to waste this reprieve you guys have afforded me. You also have my word that I will proudly fulfill my duty in taking care of the trio until my role is completed and/or taken over by their Wowa. 

I swear it by the old gods and the new 8lb 6oz newborn infant Jesus, who don’t even know a word yet… just a little infant so cuddly but still omnipotent.

Now that that spiel is over with, we can get to the superficial, materialistic part of this holiday! Inside the brown McDo baggy is the control to your new “hearth”. Sorry to give Tyler one more thing to do 😅 But your kids don’t get to hoard all the fun. Also, it was hard work eating all that food to use this box and baggy. But someone had to do the heaving lifting (or in this case, heavy eating) to keep Lola Pat’s Christmas tradition alive 👵🏽 🎁

We’ve come a long way from watching on that wee-sized plasma TV in y’all’s room at Hillcrest Terrace. Though the Towaco tube played its part well, the Casa on Calais was long overdue for an upgrade.

Welcome to the 4K experience homies 📺

And a Happy Birthday Baby Jesus to you both 🍻

 — Ya bois,

🐾 Porkchop & Mr. Doubtfire 🙃

[nlvhunter]

The Mascot is named Tuffy.

It’s 1st Period, and I am writing on today’s Formative assessment, titled Concepts of Physical Education. The kids have a half hour to get it done. They are working quietly, which is a bonus. It is untaught information, a pre-test. It is perfect for the last day before Christmas Break. We have an assembly today, which is sweet, right after this class. Then comes my Prep, followed by another class taking this same exam (they play basketball when they are finished). After that comes Lunch, followed by the last class of the day, Block schedule. This is some easy subbing, Jack. I need to make 30-40 copies of the exam during Prep, but that is what Prep period is for, right?

Coach Parsons: Hunter, do you hoop?

Me: Not anymore.

I was gonna explain how I’m 61 and never run or even burst and cannot even hit against the wall anymore, but Not Anymore seems like plenty; explains it all.

Short Answer

6. A thirty-two-year-old accountant spends much of the day working at the computer. The accountant’s body fat percentage is approaching the healthy level for their age. They take a twenty-minute walk, three days a week, but are not training in their target heart-rate zone. (3 pts.)

There are answer prompts after this question, but this is not important right now. What I wanna know concerns the use of “their” in the second sentence, and the words “They,” “are” and “their” in the third sentence. Are we using these terms to describe one person, the 32-year-old accountant? What are we doing? Are we sparing the feelings of the paper exam? Grammar has to count for something, especially since we are at school and all.

Two girls ask to go to the bathroom together. “She has to give me something,” one says. “She can give it to you here,” I say. Only one kid is allowed to go at a time. They huddle up; check their phones; muster their strength; and walk out of class at 12:09, during 1st Lunch. This feels like classic ditch because we have a sub behavior; I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night. It is the last school day before Christmas Break, so I will include the Ditch in my notes to the teacher, let her deal with it in January. Another girl walked out of class at 12:12, returning at 12:31. At least she had the decency to ditch class honestly. Four girls are smacking a volleyball around without a net. All other students are in the bleachers, playing on their phones. The trash can in the corner is filled with colored butcher paper, remnants of a most excellent Christmas Assembly this morning. High school does assemblies much better than middle schools.

In regards to Lunch, the pizza bagel was exceptional! Burnt cheese with tiny pepperoni cubes underneath. The bagel itself was sturdy. The whole operation was chewy and delicious. I also got some sort of Uncrustables, peanut butter and jelly; and an apple, which I am eating now. The free lunch reigns supreme! As for subbing, the only thing easier than subbing P.E. is subbing Adaptive P.E. The kids are sunny, bereft of the personality quirks which illicit clouds and doubt. They’re beautiful, and you cannot help being swept along.

It’s 2:07, the last hour of the Friday before Christmas, which is a week from tomorrow. The Staff wore Christmas sweaters today, supposedly Ugly Sweater Day. But there’s nothing ugly about a Christmas sweater, that’s for sure. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, just like the song says.

[drmflm]

—summary: a visit with the matchmaker proved you had various compatible matches, both in your four pillars and bloodlines. but funnily enough, the greatest of them all was none other than the matchmaker himself.

—pairing: jeonghan x gn!reader

—word count: 2.3k

—genre: fluff, slight angst

—au: matchmaker

—rating: pg-15

—warnings: there is one profane word used at the end, some caressing and kissing, jungkook makes a cameo lol

—prompt: a big thank you to @woozisnoots for the amazing prompts!!! check out their booth here and the rest of the fair here! (it's only open a little while longer so make sure to look around!!)

—note: i did get some inspiration from traditional and modern korean matchmaking, but kind of portrayed it in my own way? so i’m sorry for any inaccuracies u may find 😅💞

—masterlist

When you woke up in the morning, you were immersed with thoughts of loneliness. Being alone for a long time took its toll on the human body, bringing forth a craving for companionship so vast it was unquenchable.

It would have been alright, you supposed, if you were granted the peace to find companionship in your own endeavours, but alas that wasn’t how life worked. Instead, companionship found its way to you—often presenting itself in a form that simply perpetuated your loneliness further. Alas, what was companionship lest it was a filler for loneliness? A superficial replacement, an ersatz of the necessary feeling aloneness awoke… being loved and having someone were two very different concepts. Sure, people found love and companionship—tethered together and happy as can be. But for others, love wasn’t always synonymous with companionship.

This was why you hired a matchmaker.

You’d heard good things about him, Yoon Jeonghan, from your friends and acquaintances. He had a high success rate, often finding perfect matches on the first date. He was prim and proper, and exuded regality. With his wavy brown hair and ironed blazer, he made it very clear that he prioritized his job and only his job.

Hell, the first time you walked in, he said nothing to you unless it was to take in your preferences, bloodline information, and compatibility requirements. He was professional and authentic to the standards your family had set—prioritizing the compatibility of your four pillars, it was critical you found someone who aligned with you in every way.

It was perhaps the most interesting thing you had ever done. Sure, you enjoyed the single life immensely, but after a while, whether it was from societal or parental pressure as well as your own debilitating loneliness, the hunt for someone to love was underway.

You wanted to hold someone close at night, someone to talk to about anything and to have fun times with. You needed someone who wasn’t afraid of trying new things or deviating from what was considered acceptable and instead prioritizing what was right.

So maybe you had high standards, but if nobody fit the bill, you were fine with that. Because settling for someone just for the sake of calling them yours wasn’t something you would ever do. You weren’t in it for the games, and you weren’t ever going to play them with anybody else.

“This is about you,” he said clinically as he worked with your papers, pushing his lenses up his nose. “Based on what I see here, I see that you prefer masculine-presenting people, as well as those with a rebellious streak.”

You felt warm at this candid expression of your preferences, but nodded nevertheless to let him know he was correct.

At this, he hummed, assessing everything once more before typing furiously into his computer, clicking wildly before nodding his head quickly. “Alright, I’ve scheduled a date for you with a lovely fellow named ‘Jeon Jungkook’, and he seems to be compatible with you in 3 of 4 of your pillars.”

You once again nodded at this, accepting kindly and smiling as he typed something into his keyboard before giving you a smile. This time, it felt genuine.

“Well then, I wish you luck on your first date, Y/n. Since there’s still some time left, would you like to ask me any questions or update your preferences?” He asked kindly, placing your papers neatly into a folder.

You thought about it for a moment, tapping a finger against your chin, before looking at him. His eyes screamed kindness at you, even if the tone of his voice seemed antiseptic—not scaling, but rather unemotional.

So you opted to ask a question. “How’s your day been?” You asked, letting a small smile grave your face at his startled expression.

He quickly composed himself, “I am doing just fine, thank you so much for asking. But this is not about me, and I am committed to using our time to give you the best possible options and aid on finding your future life partner.”

There it was again, that professionalism which you respected and also seemed terribly condescending. You knew this wouldn’t be the last time you met with him, and you wanted to ensure that you remained cordial, friendly even.

But he had this wall up, and perhaps it was just protocol, in order to ensure people didn’t get any ideas. So you let it go. But you couldn’t deny that he was devilishly handsome, and if it was in your fate, you wished you could have matched with him.

Jeon Jungkook was very sweet. He was charismatic, and had so many beautiful facets to his personality. He also had such an attractive mischievousness to him that you adored. But he wasn’t someone you could see yourself loving for forever. He was so friendly and sweet, but there was nothing there, nothing more than just friendship.

He agreed, and it seemed you left on good terms, even if you didn’t find the love that you were craving. You had similar interests, and you enjoyed the same things, but it felt more like camaraderie than romance—which, thankfully, you both seemed to recognize.

Now that you had experienced your first match from Mr.Yoon, you realized that he was very serious about his job, and you were stunned to find out how perfect his matches suited you.

Yet, it was almost too perfect, how everything aligned. You craved something that defied the expectations of something comfortable, something perfect. Perhaps it was your reputation for wanting things outside the confines of normalcy, but you wanted something natural, something that didn’t align with everything you wanted.

And you articulated that to him. He seemed to take in these considerations thoughtfully, and before you knew it, he was already preparing your next match. Whilst he worked, he continued to ask you questions, and you in turn, carefully thought out your responses.

Still, no matter how many dates he set up for you, no matter who he found that suited your preferences, they always seemed to let you down. Your potential matches seemed glorious on paper, like they would suit you so well, but when you went to meet them, the atmosphere always felt so uncomfortable, and you hated that.

So it was to be expected that you spent a lot more time in Mr.Yoon’s office. As one of his more difficult clients, the more matches you rejected, the more determined he became to find you the love of your life.

You started having some serious conversations about what you were looking for, and after a while he became someone you could lean on and talk to. He started opening up a little too, confessing that he had yet to find someone who suited him as well, which is where his determination to help stemmed from.

The clinical, assessing nature of your relationship slowly dwindled the more and more personal you got, as well as the longer your search continued on. Yes, your parents were still impatient, but as they heard about how you went out on dates every night, eventually they began to ease the pressure off of you, actually beginning to divert your attention away from it.

It made you realize that you weren’t doing this for them. It wasn’t about fulfilling their expectations, or finding the perfect match. It wasn’t about being determined or tenacious to love. Your motives weren’t noble like that.

Instead, you just found yourself infatuated with the idea that maybe you had already found love.

When you walked in for yet another appointment with Mr.Yoon, he didn’t even bother sighing at another one of your failed dates.

“What was it this time?” He asked, and you noticed he was sporting a pleasant smile. “Not enough mischief?”

“On the contrary, he seemed too mischievous,” you sighed, slumping into the chair across from him. “I didn’t think I could trust him.”

He hummed, typing something into his computer, “okay, I totally understand. It seems you have exhausted all my resources. You’re the first one who hasn’t made it past the first date that I’ve worked with.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you just shrugged, “I don’t know why either. I guess I just have high—“

“No,” he interrupted, holding up a hand. “It’s not a matter of high standards. It’s the fact that you are looking for someone specific.”

You blinked, “no, I don’t think so. I think I will know what I want when I find someone who has the qualities I like and fits what I need.” Like him.

He looked at you warmly over the rims of his glasses, before sighing tiredly, “that makes this entire process a lot more difficult.”

You laughed, “I’m sorry, but if it would help I can give you a deeper rundown on what I’m looking for.”

He perked up, “yes yes, that would be perfect.”

“I’m looking for someone who I can have deep, meaningful conversations with, someone who is comfortable to be around,” you said honestly, pleased at how attentive he was, gesturing for you to continue. “I also think it’d be nice if they wore glasses.”

You feared you were being too obvious, but he seemed to gloss over this detail, typing furiously. “Anything else?”

You shook your head, before looking at him, “Hey, what are you four pillars?”

He stared at you for a long moment, frozen in place. He assessed your face, and he must have found something there he liked, because he sighed before standing up and retrieving something from his filing cabinet.

“I don’t usually share my personal information with clients because it lacks professionalism,” he confessed, sitting back down in front of you. “But I consider you a friend now, so it seems only fair to show you this.”

He took in a deep breath, “I don’t want to make things weird, but both our bloodline and four pillars are a perfect match. Both our earth and water pillars seem to complement one another very nicely. Therefore, technically speaking, out of all the matches I’ve found for you—“ he swallowed. “I’m technically the most compatible with you as you are with me.”

You tried to understand his expression, what it was that he was feeling, but he kept his heart so hidden, that you could only nod, leaning in closer, “I guess that’s only one part of it though. Because…” you hesitated, so he gestured for you to continue, “I think it’s how they make you feel that really decides whether they are someone you want to keep by your side.”

He smiled before looking away, “Right, the thing that was missing from all the people I set you up with—“

“I’ve seemed to find it in you.” You blurted, looking away when you saw his shocked expression.

The silence was thick and uncomfortable and you felt your heart sink as he sighed that familiar sigh of finding an incompatible match.

He took his specs off his face, simply looking at you with a sad expression, as if he understood the gravity of what he was about to say.

“Y/n,” he said softly, kindly, much too kindly to bear. “I understand that we both feel strongly about one another but—“

He leaned in closer and closer, till you were face to face. He gently lifted a finger to tilt your head to the side to whisper something in your ear, “I’m sorry, but because of our professional relationship, I find it difficult to accept your confession.”

Both of you were breathing deeply, but more so you at the prospect of your heart being shattered into a million pieces.

You shivered as you felt his breath gently send tingles along your skin, you felt him grin against your skin, “but when was I ever one to ignore a perfect match?”

You froze as he gently tilted you chin towards him with his thumb and index fingers, “Y/n, I don’t know about you, but I think I found what you were missing.”

“You fucker,” you whispered before you gently brought your face forward to connect your lips to his.

At his gentle ministrations, you knew that this is what you wanted. You wanted to have soft, intimate conversations with him, you wanted to hear everything he had to say, and you wanted him to hold you like this for forever.

He was perfect.

You smiled into the kiss, perhaps bloodlines and pillars had a semblance of truth to them, after all.

Having Jeonghan meet your parents was nothing short of terrifying. But after dating for a few months, and having known one another for even longer than that, you felt it was time.

You often laughed about how the two of you started your relationship, noting how sometimes the most fulfilling love was one that wasn’t pursued, but one that gently fell into one’s arms. It was the love that you found serendipitously.

And as the two of you walked up the stone pathway to your parents’ countryside home in the provinces, your intertwined hands swung with the promise of something to last for a very, very long time.

© 2022 svt1117 . all rights reserved.

[starseneyes]

Theloise - Bridgerton Season 2

It has been years since I’ve revisited a series so aggressively that I felt compelled to write about it. For those who frequented this blog once upon a time, I had a penchant for writing elaborate metas regarding series and relationships that caught my eye.

Bishmont fans, I have not forgotten you! I have not yet seen Season 3, but my husband bought me Season 2 recently, so I may finally catch up to the rest of you.

For Theloise (Theo Sharpe / Eloise Bridgerton) fans, I hope you are ready for a fun ride!

SPOILER ALERT: I am going to encapsulate the entirety of the Theloise relationship thus far in Season 2 in this post. It shall also include other plot elements from the show where necessary. You have been forewarned.

SHIPPER ALERT: I have never read the books. I don’t have any idea more than any of you what the showrunners have prepared for Season 3. This is merely a rundown of Theloise in Season 2 that I hope fans of this particular ship shall enjoy.

Let us begin... at the beginning. The first episode of Season 1.

Capital R Rake

"Let us get this over with.”

Eloise Bridgerton prepares for her presentation to the queen with her usual mix of fear of failing her family and hatred for the pageantry of it all. Why start here? Because this is the headspace of our dear Eloise prior to meeting Mr. Sharpe.

Eloise has spent the break between seasons reading new articles of substance, like Wollstonecraft. She has found in the pages a similarity of feeling and attitude toward her own sex that has eluded her in the pages of Whistledown. Her appreciation for Whistledown as an individual has not waned, but her passion for the pages was never what bound her to the mystery writer.

Eloise has long thought women capable of more than was permitted by the chains of society. Initially, that’s what drew her to Whistledown. Now, Eloise’s own thoughts have expanded to include a more focused and driven call for Women’s Rights, and she yearns for Whistledown to share her cause.

But that’s not Penelope. Yes, at this point, Eloise has no idea that her dearest friend puts the “Pen” in Penelope. However, Penelope finds Wollstonecraft’s words “haughty” and does not identify with this rallying cry. Therefore, she can never be the person with whom Eloise can connect on this matter.

Eloise sets out to discover Whistledown and share her thoughts on Women’s Rights with another woman—one who has considerable influence and reach.

Off To The Races

Anyone who has worked in Printing (I briefly had a stint myself) know that paperweight and stock are inspected quite rigorously. However, the average person may not be aware of the difference between different papers. Eloise removes her glove as soon as she approaches the stand. She is on a mission.

That’s why she misses what her mother is saying entirely. Just as her mother’s message of meeting new people being exhilarating passing her by in the previous episode, here she misses her mother trying to share the excitement of new love.

Eloise is on a mission. Of course, Penelope dismisses her assessment, but we know from Season 1 that Eloise is quite capable of pursuing this mission on her own.

"No turning back now!”

The Footman attempts to dissuade her, but her mission is set. At last, she will find the woman behind the quill. Instead... she finds Theo Sharpe.

Hard at work early in the morning, Theo is oblivious to the impending interruption in his day. Spying the Footman and the well-dressed Lady, he realizes quickly something is amiss. However, true to his personality, he does not shrink at the disruption. Instead, he simply asks, “What’s this?”

“Tell me what you know of her.”

Eloise launches into her mission without care for greetings or introductions.

But what I’m thinking about here is poor Theo. We do not know the character’s age, but I would hazard he is at least early 20′s and has already spent many years in his Apprenticeship. At this time in history (1814), a man would need to serve as an Apprentice for 7 years before he could practice a trade independently.

In fact, until 1814, a man could be prosecuted for practicing a trade independently if he had not completed his Apprenticeship.

This sets the precarious stage for our friend, Mr. Sharpe. He has likely invested years of his life, already, into this trade. He has an aspiration to be a Master himself someday, likely, and revealing Lady Whistledown would certainly destroy everything he has built.

Eloise is an unknown Lady to him, and while he is not rude, per se, he is not bowing down to her demands, either.

“I think you’re evading my question.” “You never asked me a question.”

He carries on with his work, eager for this nosy, prissy, demanding, gossip-monger to leave his presence.

“What are those papers?” “Nothing for the likes of you.”

He’s operating off of the assumptions of a well-dressed lady seeking the writer of a society rag. He sees Eloise at present the way the rest of the Ton does—as one of them.

“I am not here in search of gossip.”

Eloise is offended. She knows her own mind, and her mission.

“Private information about the season’s most eligible bachelor, then?”

I love his stance on this line. Hands on his hips, making his form bigger to further block the entrance to his world, where Lady Whistledown’s latest edition may be drying. I gather Eloise’s lowered hem length signals to him that she’s marriage-minded and out in society.

That’s enough to push her over the edge. The last thing Eloise has on her mind is marriage. She asserts as much, and as the full weight of her words strikes him, he’s gobsmacked.

Women’s Rights��the very thing he writes about, the very cause he champions, the very pamphlet resting in the boxes he’s set out during this conversation—is what drives this well-dressed Lady.

Coincidence? It has to be, right? It can’t be that someone should happen along whose timing is so unplan-ably perfect?

Theo’s jaw tenses and his eyes soften. The sharp wit fails him and Eloise feels the upper hand in the conversation finally belongs to her.

Meanwhile, Footman John is having a laugh, and stealing our hearts. Yes, John, we’re stanning them, too!

Eloise calls Theo out on his bias toward her, then throws in an extra jab at the end (which Shipper John appreciates as much as we do).

In that moment, Theo decides to take a chance—a very small one—that this Lady is serious about what she says. Likely, it won’t pan out into anything. She’ll likely abandon it. She’ll never read it. You’ll never see her again.

But what if you do?

He removes his hands from his hips long enough to pass her a paper, then plants them back, still protecting his world from hers.

But a piece of paper now connects them.

He has no idea what’s he’s begun in handing her this piece of paper. But, it’s a reminder that Eloise is not so far detached from his world as she might think. They share a common cause, though they may not yet feel the connection.

“This is not-” “If Women’s Rights are what you’re after, then perhaps that is what you need to be reading. New thoughts. Unsettling ideas. Not too unsettling for you, I hope?”

Eloise grimaces. He has the upper hand, again. And he bloody well knows it.

“Though, if I should ever see Lady Whats-her-name, I’ll be sure to let her know that her leading admirer says hello.”

He takes off inside, closing the door behind him, closing the door on this encounter. It’s a one-off, of course. He’ll never see her, again. But, he did enjoy needling her... Hmmm...

And our dear Eloise is left looking between her new reading, and the frustrating, fascinating man who gave it to her.

“The tidying of dogs?” “Yes. Perhaps you have a friend who finds the subject interesting.”

Lady Bridgerton is obsessed with helping her children find love. Yes, it can be a beautiful thing, but the forcefulness with which she attempts to match them can be a bit much. While is ultimately worked out for the Duke and Duchess, it nearly proved disastrous with Miss Edwina and Anthony.

“Mother, are you quite well?” “No. No, she is not.”

Eloise knows precisely what her Mama is attempting—to find a match for Eloise based on her reading. Little does she know, Eloise has already found someone with whom she connects on the interests of her reading.

It’s a beautiful duality that was more than likely intentional in the writing that all of the attempts of her mother to persuade her to embrace romance and love ultimately point to her relationship with Theo this season.

“I paid this printer’s shop a visit yesterday.” “You did? Did you speak with anyone?”

It’s a fleeting thought, not even a fully-formed one, as her response to that. Yes, she spoke to someone, but that isn’t what matters. To Eloise, the drive is still to find Lady Whistledown. She has been reviewing the papers for evidence, not for content.

Eloise shows Penelope the letter K’s that are slightly misshapen, handing the Lady Whistledown paper to Pen and keeping the Women’s Rights pamphlet for herself. It’s wildly appropriate to where they both are at present... still united in much, but also facing different directions.

A Bee in Your Bonnet

“Do not mind your Auntie Eloise. She’s too busy reading to notice anything else, as usual.”

Collin is the one to notice his sister’s pamphlet, and her reading in this scene. It’s the only bit of Theloise in the entirety of the episode, but it’s significant. She is in the Country with her family for a respite before they host the entirety of the Ton. Eloise brought this pamphlet with her from town so she could read and absorb it, even study it.

I would argue this is when she begins to think differently of Mr. Sharpe. Yes, he made quite the impression on their initial encounter, but as much as he believed it was a one-off, I believe she thought the same.

It must have been so lovely for her to find a man who was not so attached to the (to her) antiquated, paternalistic pattern of society. Yes, she finds errors in his arguments (which we will dive into later), but in this moment, she’s connecting with his words.

Have you ever been seduced by words? How many of us have read a story, a love letter, a song... and felt the core of our being connecting in a soulful way. Not to the point of stripping our clothes in a fit of desire, but in the meeting of souls.

My husband’s piano playing first penetrated the defenses of my heart when first we met. For Eloise, the way to her heart is most decidedly through meaningful words. Not fluffery or flattery, but passionately penned words of substance.

“Was it your choice you never married?”

Eloise wishes to be an independent woman—to make her own way and collect her own accomplishments without the constraints of society. I think her friendship with Kate is lovely, and it emphasizes how like-minded women can be tremendous allies, especially when challenging society’s strict structure.

Kate’s advanced age of 28 marks her fully as a spinster in that day, a woman who will likely never marry and be seen as a drain on her family. It’s not glamorous to be unwed.

Kate finds love not because she sought companionship or comfort, but because she felt a soul connection with the person she least expected. I would argue Eloise encounters the same with Theo... but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Victory

“Is there not another pamphlet on women’s rights to read somewhere?” “El is quite done with that.” “She has brought one with her here.”

At this point, Penelope doesn’t know about the man behind the pamphlet. She only knows of the Lady Whistledown connection, so she is attempting to dissuade Eloise, pointing out that the letter K issues has long since been corrected.

But before Pen can jump in, Eloise reacts to her brother’s words. She evades Penelope’s eyes. She knows that Penelope does not share her penchant for reading on women’s rights (as demonstrated in their Episode 1 conversation referencing Wollstonecraft), but there’s something else. She is almost embarrassed... caught, if you will.

Eloise picks up speed, getting lost in the excitement of the reading, and with matching excitement mentions his name for the first time.

“The apprentice there, Mr. Theo Sharpe-” “You know his name?”

Eloise completely deflates as Penelope chides her for getting into “dangerous waters” and her brother chimes in. They can’t see how shutting her down like this is pushing her away. Now, I’m not saying they should be forced to listen to her lengthy rants on Women’s Rights or share that particular interest, but when one feels isolated, does not one seek out the company of someone who shares interests?

I love my children. I adore them. But, if I am with my children alone for days on end, I start to feel restless and ache for conversation with a friend or loved one to give me some respite from having to be in “Mom Mode” constantly.

Eloise parades around in ball gowns and plays the part for her family. Much like Anthony sees his duty as running the house and putting his wants and needs last, Eloise now feels the full weight of being out in society and forced to represent not only herself, but her family. Even the eyes of the Queen now trail after her, and she cannot measure up to the pinnacle of perfection presented by her elder sister, Daphne.

“I only mean to say, it’d entertain me so much for you to say yes to the dances you are offered so I might hear about them. There is only so much more I can hear about a pamphlet. Never mind.”

The words sting. Penelope has now made it clear she doesn’t wish to discuss the publication that has so inspired her friend. Again, this is not unusual for friends to have different interests. My best friend in the world and I could not be more different. She is a girly girl who loves to dress up and wear makeup. I’m a fan of jeans and like my face clean. There are many subjects we don’t discuss together because we have other friends for those.

Eloise is in a unique position where her family and dearest friend have tired of her thoughts on this subject, but it is more than a conversation piece to her. To her, this is a very tenant of the life she wishes to lead.

Injury further finds her when her mother forces her to dance with a suitor she, herself, has chosen for Eloise based on their shared “rebellion”.

“My rebellion is not some party dress I put on to play a part, Mama. And it’s certainly not some accomplishment I’ve developed like singing or painting to help me attract a suitor. I know I am a disappointment to you.”

Oh, Eloise. I know what it is to grow up under the weight of expectation, to be so different from the other women in your life, and yet feel their yearning for you to be identical in every way.

“I wish to be alone.”

Penelope was the one who wanted Eloise to take the dance. Of course, she wouldn’t want to see Penelope, right now. The wedge has been driven further, and she yearns to be somewhere where she no longer has to pretend.

An Unthinkable Fate

“I am attending a lecture this afternoon. Flower arranging.”

Not one Bridgerton sibling believes this bald-faced lie. Hyacinth and Anthony look to one another in disbelief. Eloise doubles-down, bringing Penelope’s name into the conversation to make the lie a little more believable. It’s enough to convince Lady Bridgerton to drop the matter, but Benedict knows his sister better than anyone.

“For how long have you cared about flower arranging?” “I am an open-minded woman, I can care about many things.”

Benedict, more than anyone, knows his sister will never care about flower arranging. He’s the one who stopped Daphne from opening Eloise’s door in the first episode, declaring the elder sister would be the last person Eloise would wish to see.

He’s right. All the places where Daphne flourishes flawlessly, Eloise fails. It is not that Eloise wishes to be her sister or live up to her precedent, but there is that constant weight of expectation upon her.

The thing is... Daphne loves it all. She was excited about her presentation to the Queen, elated to be declared the season’s incomparable, ready to make her Love Match in her very first season. Daphne flower arranges with ease, even noting the meanings of flowers and why they should be included in bouquets. She enjoys hosting and organizing. She revels in her life is a Duchess.

As Daphne once said... she and Eloise couldn’t be more different.

“Where is your sister? I have not seen her out today.” “She mentioned something about flower arranging with you, today, in fact.”

It’s always a problem when your lies catch up to you. Penelope is willing to cover for her friend, in the moment, because she doesn’t yet know where her friend has gone.

And where has Eloise gone? In search of conversation with like-minded men and women, of course!

“This is the place!” “Doesn’t look like a place for shopping to me.”

Abandoning her Lady’s Maid (and referencing her pamphlet), Eloise enters the Assembly Room. She’s enchanted. She listens to the conversations, takes in the gathering of people.

Watch her face alight as she breathes it in. Not only is there a woman on the stage, but she appears to be a disabled woman in a wheelchair. As the granddaughter of a woman who contracted Polio in childhood and spent her life either in a wheelchair or on crutches, this spoke to me. My grandmother was a fiercely independent woman, and her spirit lives in me. How could Eloise not be inspired?

There may be debate about her intentions—whether she is there for the Assembly or in hopes of seeing Theo. But, I argue that she feels driven here in search of like-minded conversation and Theo is the cherry on top, as it were.

She scans the room, her eyes falling on him. He stands, relaxed, hands in his pocket as he chats with another man. Eloise’s features soften as she shifts through the sea of people, her eyes set on Theo.

“Is it not thrilling?”

She makes the initial connection, and immediately turns back to the speaker, taking it in. He is not her end goal, here, but a part of the experience. She makes it clear with that short acknowledgement, then full body turn.

Theo turns to politely acknowledge whoever spoke, and his eyes widen as they fall on her.

“You.” “Me.”

What is that initial shock? Excitement? Anticipation? Or simply pure worry? It could be any of them. He glances around him, looking for anyone who might be listening or watching. He can’t afford to lose his place. He can’t let her get in the way of his life... no matter how interesting she may be.

“I told you I don’t know anything about your Whistledown gossip...”

I love this part of the conversation because we are wide enough to see that while Eloise has angled her body to listen, her feet are planted firmly forward. She easily shifts back toward the speaker, reminding Theo that it was he who invited her into this world. She simply accepted the invitation.

Something shifts in Theo, then. He steps off the defensive, must-guard-self position, and opens up a little. After all, it’s not every day an attractive Lady traipses through the muck of man and woman to track you down, right?

Come on, he should be allowed a moment of savoring it! Right before she expertly shoots him down, of course, but that only makes him all the more intrigued by her.

“So, you’re an admirer of my work?”

He uses the same word he previously attached to her revering of Lady Whistledown, which I find significant. It’s a high form of flattery indeed, and the man is feeling a bit flattered.

“I would not go so far. It is serviceable, I suppose.” “And yet you have come far.”

That gets her attention. She turns fully to face him, but rather than melting (as some ladies might) or accusing (as others might), Eloise takes the route most familiar to her when comfortable and jabs right back.

“Luckily for me there is a thrilling invention called a carriage that may convey a Lady from one place to another. It is a marvel to be sure.”

Eloise turns back to face the Speaker, but she now fully has Theo’s attention. He regards her a moment, then his smile flickers. His eyes soften. He wants to know her name and to be known by her in return.

It’s another one of those little risks he takes. First, it was giving her the paper. Now, to become familiar with a Lady is a dangerous endeavor for one in his station. Even this simple conversation is unseemly to the eyes of the Ton. But, she has taken a step outside of her world, is clearly engaging in his world, and she can match him not only in intelligence, but also wit.

Let’s be real, Eloise Bridgerton is a catch.

“What’s your name?”

I love that they focus on Eloise in this shot... her reaction. She takes in his words, then shifts to face him as she answers. In her world, she is known. She may be known as Edmund and Violet’s daughter... perhaps as the younger sister of last Season’s Diamond, Daphne... perhaps the younger sister of the Viscount... but she is almost always known.

To Theo, she is just another Lady, right? But, in this moment of familiarity, someone asks to know her because they wish to know her. Not her family. Not her dowry. Not her capacity for house-tending and child-bearing. Based on the words of a conversation, he must know her name.

“I’m Theo Sharpe.” “I know.” “You know?”

She gives him that upper hand, again. He’s no doubt surprised (but also a little flattered) that she knows who he is. After all, she’s been reading his writings for a while, now, and she’s got a brilliant memory for words.

Eloise shakes her head, leaning back into her wit and knowledge to save her from the momentary lapse in propriety.

“As I know there are several errors in your arguments that I must bring to your attention. Have you a pencil? Never mind. You may borrow mine.”

And Eloise reclaims the upper hand... and even more of Mr. Sharpe’s attention. She turns from him, to the pamphlet in her hand, but his eyes remain on her. He takes her in, giving her the “Well, look at you” face before she turns to ensure he is listening. He smiles, then turns to the pamphlet with her to hear her corrections.

And I love that he doesn’t fight her on it. He doesn’t allow ego to get in the way, but patiently listens to her corrections. As she is a woman, certainly she has more to say on the subject than he, and he truly does respect her.

In fact, he respects her more, I would argue, now that he has tested the merit of her wit and found it more than matching his own. Their verbal sparring and parrying lacks the edge of Kate and Anthony’s, but that’s because theirs is a very different courtship.

That’s the beautiful thing, to me, about relationships. They are not one-size-fits-all, and we do not all find love in the same manner. My husband and I emailed for months before we started dating in-person, though we were already acquaintances through University. Ours is a truly bizarre romance story... but it’s ours.

I feel like Theo and Eloise’s matches them. There’s a sense of rational thinking outweighing the emotional for both of them. In these early days of their friendship, Eloise’s mind is on the subject matter. Theo enjoys sharing it with her, but though he might enjoy her company, he will do nothing to encourage affection on her part. He merely meets her when she comes to him. He never initiates. He’s passive in the encounters, which allows him to rationalize that he’s still detached.

As for Eloise, this relationship is so far outside of what she knows of romance (balls, poetry readings, soirées) that is never occurs to her it could be romance.

At this point, for both, romance is completely off the table. And yet, Eloise finds herself wanting to talk, again, with the Apprentice.

“Do not tell me you’ve traveled at this ungodly hour to offer more corrections of my writing?”

I love the little smile he offers her as soon as he sees her, and how he revels in her saying she wishes for his discernment. They have a natural rhythm of needling one another that suits them both. For Eloise, she does not have to be demure and silent with Theo. She can be direct and it is not seen as rude. For Theo, he truly views her as an equal, but it must be fun to poke fun at a member of the Ton who has a sense of humor about the frivolity of it all.

He leans down so they are eye-to-eye, emphasizing the equality between them even as he drops a teasing, “Is that so?”

“Do not look so pleased. It is a rare occurrence that I doubt shall be repeated.”

He continues to work as they trade barbs, but once she settles to sit, he again bends to fold himself closer to her eye-level.

“Or perhaps you have not seen enough of the world to make sense of them, yet.”

Such a key phrase in this exchange to me. It brings to mind Simon’s perception of Daphne as “barely out of leading strings” in season 1. These young Ladies are sheltered and kept innocent (and horrifying naive) to help attract a man’s eye and eventually the comfort of his life, name, and home.

Theo has a very different life than she. He knows the pain of hard labor, the exhaustion of long work days, and the struggles of survival. This is one thing that decidedly separates them, still.

But, Eloise enjoys the time. She enjoys his company.

Now, there is something I feel we must address... During this episode, we see Eloise lie that she is with Penelope, Penelope learns and affirms the lie, Penelope seeks Eloise out and finds out that she has been somewhere unseemly, and then we see Penelope watching Eloise and Theo talking together.

At what point does Eloise admit to Penelope that she has been seeing Theo? We see in the very next episode that Penelope at some point was aware of their visits and cautioned her against them. It leads me to believe that there were several other visits we did not see on screen.

This is a very common thing in television and film, to skip time, but I’ll admit that I’m curious on a personal level to know how many early mornings Eloise gave her pin money to Footman John to take her to visit the Apprentice.

The Choice

“Are you speaking of Mr. Sharpe again, El?” “I have heeded your warnings... theoretically.”

There it is. At some point the two of them have talked about Mr. Sharpe and how she should not be visiting with someone below her station.

“And what in actuality?” “I visited him the other day. But it is not nearly as scandalous as you make it out to be.”

There it is. The scandal. And who knows more about scandal than the author of a scandal sheet? To be alone with a man is a problem within their world, but to be seen in the presence of a man below their station is far worse... especially to be seen without an escort. Even Daphne and Simon needed Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury following them whilst they promenaded.

“It’s only his thoughts that I’m interested in.”

And she believes it. She absolutely believes that she is only interested in the thoughts of the Apprentice and not the Apprentice himself. Because, again, this is so outside any representation she has seen of romance. The nearest references are her parents and siblings. All of those romances took place within the Ton’s structure. To consider her relationship with Theo as anything beyond an exchange of thoughts is... impossible.

“It is a friendship, then?” “Of course. What else could it be?”

Eloise has likely thought of love only within the context of an “ideal match”. Find a person. Get engaged. Get married. Have babies. That’s the order of things in her mind.

Theo is far outside that order, so far that she hadn’t considered romance was an option. But Penelope’s words send her spiraling, examining herself and Theo and the context of their conversations. Indeed, her brother’s wedding slips from her mind as she tries to ascertain if she is lying to her dearest friend... and herself... about the depths of Mr. Sharpe’s importance to her.

“Perhaps she realized, in fact, marriage is a prison for women.” “How should I be? Married? And silent?”

As the family tries to discern what happened between Miss Edwina and Anthony, Eloise drops several reminders that she is not, at all, marriage-minded.

At this time, relationships without marriage were acceptable for men to have with whomever, but Ladies were held to a completely different standard. If a Lady was found alone with a Gentleman, they could be forced to marry because of impropriety.

Eloise does not want to be trapped in marriage. At the same time, she’s a woman finding herself attracted to a man. And, it truly is through his thoughts that she found this unexpected connection.

Remember first season when she reflected on how men wanted to marry Daphne because of her pleasing face and smile? To Eloise, appreciation of physical beauty is not the foundation of anything. The meeting of minds is where true connection is made... it is not surprising, at all, that the more she exchanges words with the Apprentice, the more she connects with him.

“I’ve given much concern to what you said about Mr. Sharpe and his degree of interest.” “No, El, I did not intend you to think about that.”

This is one of those interesting moments where Penelope is used to being the smartest person in the room. Her sisters and mother underestimate her, and she’s used to maneuvering people how she likes. She even did it with Madame Delacroix. But, she’s accidentally pushed her dearest friend in an intended direction.

Eloise is considering Mr. Sharpe anew... is he “interested” in her?

“I know it is odd, but I had assumed ours was merely an intellectual bond, a friendship based in like-minded thought and rigorous conversation.”

There you have it. It is a “friendship” (which men take to mean a different thing if we’re to judge how Benedict described his relationship with Madame Delacroix as such). It’s a bond.

“But what if you are right? What if he feels more?”

I love this deflection, because it’s classic Eloise. She is going to do anything she can not to inspect her own feelings and emotions towards him because she first wants the reassurance that he, indeed, has feelings for her.

None of us wishes to be made the fool in matters of the heart.

“I never said- El, do you want him to feel more?”

Look. At. Her. Face. This is a brilliant bit of acting, because she feels every bit the 18-year-old faced with first love in this moment. Look at that face! She’s completely elated and terrified by the thought of that—of Theo feeling more for her than a mere intellectual friendship.

How can she articulate that to her dearest friend? Yes, Eloise is positively unaware of Penelope’s obvious attraction to her elder brother, Collin. But, she is also facing a friend who has cautioned her against spending time with the one man outside her family whose company she actually enjoys.

It’s a risk to say anything... to Penelope... and certainly to Theo.

“My feelings about his feelings do not matter if I do not know for a fact what he is feeling.”

Right, Eloise. Keep telling yourself that. She stalks away from Penelope, because she knows what she’s feeling is starting to come to the surface. Yes, Penelope knows her better than most, and Eloise is choosing to trust her with these secrets. But, it’s still difficult to show your vulnerabilities about someone to whom you might be attracted.

“No one speaks of marriage, Pen!”

There it is, again. Eloise has completely divorced the idea of attraction and romance from marriage. And that absolutely makes sense for her personality! She may someday decide to marry, but at this point her thoughts are nowhere near it.

“Those are mysteries I may never solve. This one with Theo- Mr. Sharpe- I can.”

Her first slip into the familiar. It reminds me of Simon’s words to Daphne in season 1, “...if this is to be a match unlike any other, you should call me by my name.” Of course, we know that Daphne and Simon were pretending, and trying to make it seem as though they were courting...

But could Eloise and Theo’s encounters be considered the beginning of a courtship? It would not cross Eloise’s mind because this doesn’t look like anything she’s ever known (I know I’ve said that multiple times in this writing, but I think it’s important to remember the context in which she’s grown up).

Marriage still has not crossed her mind where Theo is concerned... but... more? Perhaps there is more...

“It’s the not knowing that makes it feel like torment.”

Eloise, my dear, I feel you. I remember being a teenager jamming out to songs recorded off the radio on a boombox in my bedroom wondering if the guy of my affections returned them. It can be enough to drive you mad. In Eloise’s case... it drives her to action.

“I’ve made a decision to visit Theo now.”

There is no correction this time. Theo. He is Theo, now, to her. Regardless of what happens next, she has made the mental leap to think of him without propriety’s laws... at least so far as his name goes.

Penelope tries to talk Eloise out of it, but she is determined.

“It is rather vexing to be thinking of his thoughts when I should be thinking of my own.”

This is so on-brand for Eloise. She is not going to let a man rule her, even if it is in her own mind. To dispel this overwhelm, she has to take action.

“You’ve come quite a long way to ask me something, so go on.”

I love how he takes care of his business, then turns back to her with that little smile. I know it’s small, but he probably appreciates her waiting instead of demanding his instant attention in that moment.

It’s one of those tiny details of their relationship that I appreciate probably because of the nature of my life. I work from home, and I often need a moment to finish my work before I can address something personal. Having a partner who gives you the space you need without demanding your attention every second because you understand you are not the other’s ENTIRE world? That’s precious.

Theo continues with his work as they talk, ready for the usual exchanged barbs and needles. He doesn’t notice Eloise’s hands clasped, barely containing the nerves. He doesn’t notice how she struggles to gather her thoughts.

“I have thoughts.” “I can see how that might pose a problem for someone in your world.” “Thought I would like to share... with you.” “And are you not sharing them now?”

You get a real sense of the patter they have adopted in this scene. They discuss and chat, they talk and ponder.

Perhaps it should be noted that they both rely on their intellect and wit to deflect. He does it upon their first meeting, and she does it every time she starts to feel the slightest bit exposed.

But this moment is a delicate one, and she wishes to choose her words carefully.

“What I am failing to say is that often when I read something new or interesting, or provoking, it is you who crosses my mind.”

The weight of the words strike him. He looks up from his work. He slows down. This whole time, he’s been moving at a good clip, but that slows him. He goes to pick up the next parcel, but it’s almost in slow motion.

“It is you who I would like to speak with about those thoughts.” “I see.”

He holds the next parcel in his hands, processing the information. This is a risk. In 1990′s teen girl parlance, she just passed a note to his desk that read, “I like you.”

“And so I am wondering if you might also have thoughts of me when you think.”

And, there it is... the second part of those 1990′s-era notes. “Do you like me? Circle Yes or No.” Looking every bit like Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing after realizing she said the stupidest thing ever to her crush (when she carried the watermelon), Eloise is questioning the words that just escaped her mouth.

Theo’s response? He. Walks. Away.

Let’s be clear, what she has just done is insane. She is an upper class Lady, a member of the ton, who just left a wedding hosted by the Queen of England herself to go traipsing through an area every member of Polite Society has begged her to avoid in search of the answer to her heart’s question.

And she just told a member of the working class that she thinks of him... that he is on her mind. Then, she had the audacity to ask him if she was on his.

Up until now, he has taken small risks where Eloise is concerned. He risked giving her a pamphlet. He risked asking her name and hers being known by him. He has risked these early-morning meetings only because she came to him.

To admit feeling anything but friendship toward a member of the Ton is an incredible risk. But I think the boldness of her demonstration encourages him to be more open, himself. She has put herself out there, as it were, and he understands the risks for both of them. He knows what will happen to her if they were to continue this association and possibly marry.

Eloise, herself, has been warned of the fate that befell Lady Mary (and the Queen did not spare the Lady’s feelings when presenting her daughters). But, again, Eloise is not thinking of marriage. All she knows is that she has new feelings for someone... and she wants to know if they are returned.

Theo emerges from the shop with four books in his hands. He looks to them, not to her.

“I have read all of these.” “And?” “And...”

Theo looks away. He’s barely meeting her eyes this whole interaction because he has to build up his courage. What she has done is mental, to be sure. But what he is about to do could be considered even worse. For a man of his station to tempt a Lady of hers is the greatest scandal.

He resolves his thoughts, and looks back to her.

“I thought you might share your thoughts on them.”

He holds out the books to her, and she does experience relief. That’s what she was seeking here, relief from the torment. She places her hands around the stack of books, and as she does, her gloved finger overlaps his.

A surge moves through her—one she had not expected. She meets his eyes, and he smiles, reassuringly at her. Their fingers separate, and she looks lovingly toward the stack of books.

His smile fades into something softer—a gentle regard for this Lady who seemingly shares his affection. It’s their little secret, a magic moment caught in a bubble.

Of course, it’s the beginning of the end, in many ways.

Eloise didn’t notice her Royal tail. She doesn’t realize the foolishness of coming here in broad daylight, the trap that has been set. She didn’t think this through. Her rational mind failed her... and it brings heartbreak to them both.

Harmony

“The queen thinks it is me.”

Eloise’s foolishness has real consequences. The Queen of England has set her sights on the Bridgerton Lass, and she’s screwed.

“Master Printer’s gone for the day.” “It’s not printing I wish to solicit.”

He’s inside, working. We’re likely to believe she’s come later in the day, again. And this is the first time she’s crossed into his workspace.

And he cannot wait to get her back out of it.

“Are you mad?” “Not even a little excited to see me, then.”

Eloise is so relaxed at the start of this scene. The nerves and anxiety of their previous scene have escaped her. She knows that their connection is shared, and she’s content in that knowledge. But Theo is on edge... with good reason.

It’s clear he doesn’t know why the queen asked about him, but when he realizes that it was Lady Whistledown, he tries to think fast.

“What is ridiculous is that you thought it wise to come back here again.”

In Eloise’s world, scandals come and pass. There are rarely long-term consequences. Theo just told her that he was nearly thrown out, and the weight of that didn’t even strike her. 

“I came to make sure you were alright, to get our story straight.” “Our story?”

Eloise feels only a slight wound when he throws the books in her face. She tries to recover, to get back what they had the last time they saw one another. They had been oblivious, happy, sharing a secret moment.

But, now the Queen is involved. Theo nearly lost his job. And he can see that she doesn’t have sense enough to see just how bad this is. He has to protect her. He has to get her away from him... for both of their sakes.

“You are a lady who’s never had to endure any real difficulties in your life. You may have the protection of your family, of your society. But I’m... I do not. You took your pleasure from low life, Miss Bridgerton. Now I think it best you return to Mayfair before you get my into anymore trouble.”

He walks away from her, turns his back to her, puts the separation of his world and hers in view. Eloise watches him, completely deflated.

The start of this scene is so revealing—Eloise is more comfortable than I’ve ever seen her with a man. She even wishes to see his excitement to see her. She tried to conceal her identity to come visit him, this time, with the cloak. But, it’s still a huge risk to be there at all, and she doesn’t understand that.

The rules are simply different in her world, and while I know Theo partially said what he did to try to scare her off for her protection, she does need to hear this. She needs to understand the consequences are far greater for Theo, and more lasting.

If they do have a future (and I have no idea if they do), she needs to know what they’re getting themselves into.

“Miss Eloise Bridgerton has certainly made a dangerous, perhaps ruinous [decision].”

Lady Whistledown’s latest paper comes out and breaks what was left of Eloise’s spirit. Her mother’s gaze falls on her, and she feels the disappointment of her entire family.

All season, she has felt the pressure of trying to live up to Daphne’s triumph, of giving her mother something to be proud of, of playing the part... Her rebellion has always been her escape, and Theo was a small part of that. Now, her rebellion has ruined her.

Lady Whistledown asserts that as one makes their bed, they must also lie in it. Yes, Penelope did this to save Eloise... but none of this would have happened had she been honest with her friend.

Then again, Eloise would never have met Theo.

The Viscount Who Loved Me

“[Lady Whistledown] does not seem to be writing at all anymore. Is that not right, El?”

El looks uneasily at Collin. Ordinarily, the jabs and needles of her brothers would not bother her, but she is quite raw, still.

I wonder what Lady Bridgerton might have said to her daughter had Anthony not walked in on a tirade (masking his pain over Kate’s injury). Instead, he takes out his emotions on the entirety of the family.

“Is no one allowed to make their own decision?” “Do not ask me to speak of your activities. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

This time, Eloise has nowhere to run. She can’t run to Pen. She can’t go to Theo. She’s absolutely alone and isolated in her ruin. She takes her leave to her bedroom, isolating herself further from the world.

“Miss Eloise, a package for you.”

She stands, alone, staring out her window. Where my her thoughts wander? What might she be thinking? Footman John interrupts her thoughts, and reminders all of us why he is the number one, original Theloise fan.

“Oh, I do not want any-” “You might want this one. I’ll be outside.”

Eloise approaches the simple wrapped package with curiosity. She pulls it open and finds inside a small book. As she examines it, a handwritten note starting with “Miss Bridgerton” falls out. Eloise lifts it, reading.

“You got my note.”

Boy took a full swallow before speaking. You can see his adam’s apple bobble with it! He has to face the consequences of what he said before, but he’s also thrilled she came. She could have ignored his note. She could have never walked through his door again... but she does.

“Why did you not tell me sooner? Why did you continue lying to me? Carrying on with me when you knew this entire time that the real Lady Whistledown has been using this very shop to print her scandal sheet?”

She. Is. Pissed. And rightfully so. He looks over his shoulder, to the place where his Master would open the silk-filled boxes of Lady Whistledown’s manuscripts.

“I couldn’t tell you. Not when she was still watching me. Why do you think I ended things the way I did with you despite wanting to do the very opposite?”

Eloise absorbs those words. It doesn’t fix everything that happened between them the last time, but it does help explain it. She avoids his eyes. They had an understanding before, but she has to question if it remains. Can they begin, again?

“I did not want her to see the two of us together. I didn’t want her to write cruelly of you.” “Little late for that.”

Theo has no idea that it wasn’t his fault... that Penelope was writing what she did because of the Queen, and not because of Eloise’s relationship with Theo.

He crosses from behind the table that separated them, stepping just a little closer to the outside world, to her.

“I owe you an apology, Miss Bridgerton. For everything. Whistledown has now taken her business elsewhere. Thought you deserve to know the truth.” “I deserve more than that.

Theo nods, his eyes flicking to her lips. She stands facing him, so close to him, that she cannot help but notice. It flusters her, slightly, as she finds herself glancing at his lips, as well.

Eloise shifts focus, crossing away from him, behind the table, further into his world. She puts the distance between them physically, and yet it’s also deeper into the shop.

“With your knowledge of her methods and my endeavors, I’m sure together we can finally unmask her.”

Theo stands much the way he did the first time they met, with his hands on his hips. But this time he’s facing in, protecting Eloise and their mission from the world outside. His expression, too, is different. Light from the windows falls on his face as he smiles at her.

Eloise feels a catch in her throat. She’s still unaccustomed to these feelings, and she’s uncertain what to do with them (we all know her mother’s talks about marriage relations start on the wedding day and consist mostly of puppies).

Eloise swallows that feeling.

“I must know everything you know.”

Theo bends down to her height, again, facing her eye-to-eye. As they start to walk through Lady Whistledown’s methods, he crosses past her and Eloise follows, deeper into the shop.

“The print shop where Theo works was, in fact, Whistledown’s. He has told me everything.” “Eloise, I thought you had quit your hunt. Were Whistledown’s words not enough?... People know you have been speaking to him, Theo. There’s been gossip about you and a man from the lower classes.”

This scene guts me every time. Again, if Penelope had been honest with Eloise in Season 1, the pair of them might have gone in this together. Theo would never have happened. But we are made by the decisions we make.

“You had to have heard people talking... Your family are already in a great deal of trouble.”

Ah, the axe in the back. Bridgertons are a fierce family. Anthony fights for the family he has. Daphne sees herself a Bridgerton, still, despite being a Duchess. They allowed the younger two to dance when nobody else showed up for the ball.

This family takes care of each other and values each other. They would never purposefully do anything to injure one another. And Eloise has already brought shame on her family through her association with “improper company”.

“Then perhaps it could be the other modiste.”

I love the staging of this. Lady Whistledown articles on the table, and the two of them behind it. Eloise actually perches on the table as Theo leans down to speak with her. His sleeves are rolled up and her gloves are off. They are completely comfortable with one another. The tools of his trade sit alongside her beautiful box and the papers that brought them together.

There’s a familiarity in their positioning and attitude that does not require explanation or guarding. They effortlessly exist alongside one another.

Theo and Eloise are always at their best when they do not have the weight of expectations—both societal and familial—upon them. In this moment, they’re talking to one another, working the problem, and Eloise doesn’t even note when she brushes against him as she stands and he straightens.

He reaches for another pamphlet, but knocks them clear off. He bends down to retrieve them, and Eloise joins him. In gathering the papers, their hands meet. Eloise’s finger on her left hand barely grazes the skin on his right as both note the immediate spark felt from hands meeting.

His face falls faster as he waits for her to fall away. Eloise notes the connection, shaking her head slightly at the feeling. It’s when their eyes meet that she realizes what that feeling means.

His eyes search hers for permission, his expression softening. Eloise senses the shift and pulls her hands from his, leaving him holding all the pamphlets. She stands up, using the table for balance as she rises. He stands with her, matching her pace, still watching for some sign from her.

In all reality, she is the one standing in his way. She is the one who crossed to his side of the table. She is the one unmoving in this situation and he’s the one waiting for her permission or condemnation. When neither comes, he moves ever so slightly toward her with the clear intent to kiss her.

Eloise starts, jerking away. His head falls, shame consuming him. That was a big risk he just took, and it didn’t pay off. To see her look at him that way, to pull away from him, was painful.

“Forgive me.” “This is absurd.”

Her body language completely shifts. The comfort they felt only a moment earlier disappears.

“I would never-” “No. This whole thing, it is absurd.”

He thinks it’s his advance that is the problem, but it’s only the proverbial straw. Eloise has Penelope’s voice in her head, the knowledge that her actions are already being spoken of... that if anything were to happen between them, it would hurt her family.

“I am sorry for wasting your time.” “Are you? Or are you suddenly dropping out of this hunt for other reasons?”

He’s asking her to give him a real reason. He needs to know. As much as she needed to know if he had feelings for her, he needs to know this. He needs to know why she is suddenly changing direction.

“People are already talking about us, Theo.”

The first time she’s spoken his name to him. It’s such a personal thing, especially in those days, for a Lady to speak the name of a man who is not a family member. But the impact of it is lost in the sea of other things she says.

“I could not live with myself if you are the one who has to face the consequences.”

What a gut-punch. Because in this one phrase she has told him that she wasn’t in this for the long haul, that she would never abandon her world, that this was only a dalliance and not something lasting.

And now Eloise is the one saying what she must to protect him... and her. They are more alike than they know, but they haven’t yet learned how to communicate it. She is pushing him away on purpose... to do what she thinks is right.

“I should’ve known that you could not be different from all other ladies.”

There are tears in his eyes. Whether he’d like to admit it, he was falling for her. After he was nearly thrown out and she targeted by the Queen, he’d been willing to release her, to never see her again. But when she responded to his note, it opened that spot in his heart, again, tearing some as it did.

Eloise absorbs his words, trying to hold to her position. People are already talking. She can’t hurt her family. She can’t let him be hurt. These are the words echoing in her mind.

“It’s alright, Miss Bridgerton. You dipped your toes in my waters trying to make yourself feel better about the unearned advantages of your birth.”

Oh, that cuts into her. She knows that this is the end. It has to be. But to have that be his last impression of her? For him to believe that everything was the frivolity of a Lady rather than something real? Oh, that hurts.

“Now you can go back to your life, and I can go back to mine.”

His voice breaks. He’s barely containing the hurt, now. He opened himself up further than he meant to... because he felt safe in it, the same way that she did. But her words cut deep, and bring all his fears about this friendship to light—it’s not real. She’s just a Lady having a laugh. You’ll be left brokenhearted.

Yes, he’s brokenhearted. But he doesn’t realize that so is she.

He crosses to her, holding the last thing connecting the two of them... papers. It all comes back to papers.

A piece of paper brought them together. Another piece invited her to his world. Paper-filled books brought their relationship to a closer point, and then another reunited them after they’d separated.

There are no more papers after this one. There are no more books. No more letters. With these papers returned... they are undone.

He places the papers in the box and takes one last look at this Lady he’s come to care for far too much.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you find your writer.”

With those words, he’s stripped everything away. This was never a relationship. This was never a bond. This was never a friendship. It was an assignment that could not be completed.

And that’s enough to make Eloise waver. Tears flood her eyes as she looks up at him, close as they were moments earlier, now he feels so far.

“Best of luck.”

He barely meets her eyes. It hurts too much. Her tears could be a manipulation. He can’t trust anything, now. He walks away, and as he does, something in her cracks.

“Theo-”

But, it’s too late. He turns away from her and closes the door. It’s an echo of their first meeting, but this time they are both wounded.

“You seem to have the melancholy of heartbreak about you.”

Benedict and Eloise’s relationship is one of my favorites. They tease each other, sure, but they can also be brutally honest with one another. When Eloise attempted to warn Benedict off Madame Delacroix in season one (thinking she was Lady Whistledown), Benedict said she was the person he least expected to take issue with him seeing someone in the working class. It’s very telling that these two Bridgertons are the ones who seem to struggle most to find their place in Polite Society.

He approaches her, at first, much as he always has during their little chats out here on the swings. But, this time, he can see something is different with her. If only he knew.

“You were correct about Theo. It was a mistake ever getting involved with him. I took your advice and I extricated myself. He did not take it well, but I think it was the necessary choice. Thank you for protecting me. You are a true friend.”

“Necessary” is the word I key off of in this sentence. Eloise, as we’ve said before, is not marriage minded. If she and Theo had kissed, she might worry he has designs of marriage, and that is not something on her mind, at present. To face the possibility of being forced into marriage...that is the very opposite of everything Eloise wants.

If nobody had known about Theo, it would have been easier to take her time making up her mind. But Penelope said people knew, and hinted it could hurt her family. Eloise did what she thought she had to to do.

“Then I thought about how you said people have been talking about me and Theo. Only, if that were the case, Whistledown would have written about it weeks ago... I ended my friendship with Theo because of you. One of the only good things in my life, all because of your self-serving manipulation.”

Because she thought that’s what she had to do... to do the right thing. Eloise doesn’t question herself much, but she listened to her dearest friend because so often Penelope has been right.

At the end, as the sky alights in brilliance, Eloise is alone in her bedroom, the Lady Whistledown pamphlets torn and scattered across her floor. She leans against the window, sobs overcoming her.

It’s too much. Eloise lost everything. She can’t go to anymore assemblies, because she’s already been spotted keeping improper company and doesn’t want to attract more attention. She can’t see Theo because she burned that bridge. And now her dearest friend, Pen, the one person who made unbearable niceties bearable is exposed as Lady Whistledown herself.

Season Three

I have no idea what will happen in S3 any more than any other person. But, I’d love for there to be more Theo. I’ve love for them to be endgame. I’d love for Eloise to start writing her own Women’s Rights pamphlet written by “A Lady” much as Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility was in 1811.

The thing that strikes me about Eloise’s journey this season is that she is working toward taking action. And Penelope’s words in the finale might be the last thing that pushes her to truly do something about her activism.

I believe Eloise is on a journey to finding her own confidence in herself, enough that she no longer crumbles under the weight of societal expectation. I am not one who ever thinks Eloise will be defined by a man or any relationship.

She is writing her own story. Theo is a part of it, not the entirety.

I suppose we’ll all see how it turns out for the Bridgertons and Friends soon enough. If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the ride!