#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!

[charlesandmartine]

Saturday 21st December 2024

The alarm clock agitated at 6.15 and we were instantly awake for today's adventure. We had to present ourselves at the tourist information place in Urangan to be herded by bus to River Heads port to catch the early morning ferry to K'gari, the K being silent, leaving gari pronounced Gaary. (Fraser Island is a lot easier to articulate) Due to little research on my part, I was surprised at how large an island this was. In length, it is 123 km, 15 km wide, 22 km at its widest part; 1840 square kilometers in all. We were informed it was different from any island we are likely to have visited before because K'gari is made entirely of sand. Because of this, we were half expecting to pull alongside a giant sandcastle with a couple of paper flags at each end! Our tour guide put us right on this fallacy. I prefer, he said, to think of K'gari as a sand bank, not an island. If you imagine the last ice age, when sea levels were much lower, K'gari would merely have been a great big pile of sand attached to the rest of Australia, and the continental shelf would also be visible. The notion of how the sand was built up in the first place was put forward. It all began a long way away to the south of us here, in the Blue Mountains, to the west of Sydney. The wind blew, eroding and separating tiny particles of sand, depositing them into creeks, carried by rivers into the Pacific, where the longshore drift carried these sand particles north of Brisbane, forming this chain of islands. Today, K'gari is seen as the largest sand island in the world.

Now, some important advice from information gleaned from our last excursion experience that included a paid for lunch. 4 rules that you break at your peril and put you at risk of going hungry. 1. Assess the competition and position yourself at the front of the queue. There will be plenty of food. 2. Carry out a size assessment of the fellow eaters. Be sure to be in front of the people who appear to be the most familiar with large portions of food. Ergo, there will be more food available. 3. Take high value items; New Zealand green mussels, fish fillet (any sort), large lumps of chicken. (forget the legs), 4. Follow these rules, and you will be well placed for seconds.

Our tour firstly took us to McKensie Lake, which was indeed a curiosity because it was one of three lakes sat in pure sand! Afterall, sand doesn't usually hold water! This was an opportunity to lay on the sand by the lake before setting off for a boardwalk through rainforest. Between the years 1886 and 1991, loggers worked these forests on the island for their timbers: Hoop Pine, Kauri Pine, Turpentine, Blood Wood were some. This was big business, shipping timbers across to the mainland and processing them in Maryborough, yes of Mary Poppins fame. One large logging company was Mckensie and Sons, which dominated operations, even building railways to move these huge logs across difficult terrain. Then, in 1991, the federal government put a stop to the whole thing. They wanted UNESCO status as a world heritage site, and the price for this was to stop the logging. In 1992, UNESCO agreed and K'gari was granted what it wanted.

The east side of the island remarkably has approximately 80 km of flat tidal beach that our bus could drive along! Today, we probably covered 20 km of it, but often at speed. Our destination was the wreck of the SS Maheno, a steam packet that used to ply these waters and across to New Zealand in the early 20th century. 1935 came, and it was no longer cost-effective to run a steam ship, and our vessel was sold for scrap to a Japanese company who came and collected her. Deciding to tow her to the scrap yard rather than sail under power, both ships got into difficulties in a cyclone, resulting in the Maheno drifting and running ashore in the sand, where her hulk remains to this day. Now, a protected shipwreck, she will always be there rusting away. Great photography, though. We made our way back along the sands passing Coffee Rocks; ancient deposits of tree formations which break down leaving a coffeestain in the water, seeing the coloured sand cliffs and then to Eli Creek, a bit of a magnet for kids to play in the fresh waters flowing into the sea. Also, a magnet to the local population of dingoes keenly looking for a crafty meal either left by humans or foraged.

Then, it was back to the ferry and setting sail for Urangan and home. Fully fed, but weighing up whether a fish and chip supper might be required as a top-up. Another great day, tomorrow promises to be somewhat quieter.

We don't really like organised trips; being organised, conforming to a demanding itinerary, shuffling along with a whole load of other people, not being able to spend time on the parts that interest us, and not being able to skip or move on from areas that do not. It was a very long day, but we went places and saw things that we would not otherwise have had access to by our own resources. Therefore, it was well worth it, and the advice given was correct. This island, although by topography, was not remarkable, it was instead quite amazing and unique.

ps. We did stop off in Hervey Bay to get snapper and chips, but it was the third fish and chip we had tried before finding one that was open on a Saturday night beyond 7pm! What is the matter with these people? The one we did find open managed to stay open till eight! The rest of the Esplanade, the main entertainment area, was in darkness by then!

pps. We passed the Botanical Gardens at about 7pm, and we were somewhat surprised at the crowds queuing to get in. Then we remembered the Christmas lights display. And then we recalled it was nearly Christmas! A fact that to date that had escaped us!

[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

[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

[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.

[notanotherreidgirl]

I just had an idea based on my recent health experience: What if Spence had to wear a Holter for 24 or 72 hours to measure his heart's activity (maybe as part of the FBIs health checks) ? And he has to take notes of everything he does so that they can match it with the information collected so he cannot have sex or masturbate unless he's willing to justify his increased heart activity to a team of doctors. So, reader being reader, decides to drive him nuts, teasing him again and again because she knows he can't do anything about it. (Does he end up cumming in his pants because he's trying so hard not to touch himself and increase his heart rate?) ☺️🥰

Love ya! Have a great day!

Let's Get Physical

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, edging, blowjob, grinding, coming in pants

Word Count: 1380 (i'm inclined to just call this a full fic)

A/N: First, an apology. This has been in my inbox for quite a while and I am very sorry about the wait. Secondly, I made this entire scenario up after doing some minimal research on Holter monitors so it might not make sense.

Spencer gave Hotch’s door a light tap before taking a deep breath and then giving two sharp knocks. “Come in”

The door swung open and Derek patted him on the shoulder with a smile as he exited, no doubt having just received a glowing report regarding his physical health. Spencer dropped into the seat, casting a quick glance at the team of health professionals on Hotch’s couch and immediately regretting it. They were very clinical looking - pressed white lab coats, hair combed and gelled back, clipboards piled with papers, already scribbling away and speaking among themselves in hushed voices. “Ok Dr. Reid, we just have a few questions to ask you regarding your health practices and then we’ll take a look at the results from the Holter Monitor. Is that alright?”

“Um yeah. Yeah, that’s fine” he glanced over at Hotch who was leafing through Spencer’s notes with a raised eyebrow. The first few questions about his diet and lifestyle practices were easy but then came the dreaded evaluation of the Holter measurements. “Now we just have a few questions about some of the readings from the Holter. I see there was a bit of a spike right after you put it on that you attributed to nerves?”

“O-oh uh yeah, I was just a little nervous about having it on. That was it.” But that wasn’t the exact truth.

---

You had Spencer sit cross-legged on the bed without his shirt when he came home with the Holter. He was explaining how it worked as you studied the diagram detailing how to put it on. You slipped the wearable recording device over his head and climbed into his lap, surreptitiously rocking your hips into his as you untangled the wires. His hands encircled your waist, adjusting your angle so your clothed core ran against his entire length. You attached the electrodes carefully, kissing each patch of skin before covering it. His breath came out in soft pants as his release mounted and he squeezed his eyes shut. Just as he was about to come, you clicked the machine on and his eyes flew open.

“Wait, Y/N! I can’t - I’m supposed to keep my heart rate down.” The panic in his voice was evident and you smirked. If there was one thing you knew about Spencer it was that he liked succeeding. One might even say he liked winning - 3 Ph.Ds, prolific poker player, unsubs behind bars - so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that he was keen on passing his health evaluation. You trailed a hand down his chest, feeling the pounding heart he was trying to calm with deep breaths. “If you say so, doc”

---

The evaluator’s next question snapped him from his reverie. “That sounds fine but there was a concerning increase in your heart activity at 2 AM. It says here that you were exercising, specifically sprinting?”

Spencer dropped the pen he had been twirling and dove under his chair to get it. “Ah yes, I - uh - those are my nightly sprints.”

If Hotch’s eyebrows went up any farther they’d disappear in his hairline. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his face in exasperation when he spotted your face peeking out through an opening in his office blinds. You darted away quickly, sprinting back to your desk. Meanwhile, Spencer mentally chastised himself for his lack of self-restraint, saying that he was doing sprints at 2 AM was stupid but it was the only thing he could think of that could somewhat explain his elevated heart rate without revealing his actual activities.

---

He couldn’t sleep with the monitor on, tossing and turning in your arms until he rolled onto his back and let out a frustrated huff. You sleepily propped yourself up on your elbow. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

He scooted in closer, curling his body into yours and burying his face into your tits. He whined, “Can’t sleep with this thing on me”

“Oh, poor baby. Do you need me to make you feel better?” You dipped a hand down the front of his pajama pants and he automatically pressed his hips forward, used to you soothing him in this way after nightmares. He was already half-hard and you stroked him softly before sliding down the bed. His whimpers at the loss of your breasts exploded into loud moans as you swallowed his length, running your tongue up the underside of his cock and sucking at the tip before taking him back into your throat. Usually, you would take your time but you were feeling particularly wicked tonight, bringing a hand up to cradle his balls as the other forced his wild hips down onto the bed. Once again you pulled away just as his orgasm began to materialize and he threw his head back against the pillows, whines devolving into a choked sob. “We wouldn’t want to mess up your Holter results, now would we?”

Needless to say, he didn’t get any sleep that night.

---

“Well Dr. Reid, this kind of activity is most unusual and frankly quite concerning. Your heart rate even shot up right before you returned the monitor which you again attributed to nerves.” Spencer’s face reddened as he recalled the events that transpired that morning.

---

He was pacing down a vacant hallway in the basement of the Bureau, willing his nerves away. He was sure he would fail. Could you even fail one of these evaluations? Probably. If anyone could fail it would be Spencer. Between the events of the last 24 hours and the fact that Derek was going right before him, he knew he was screwed. And then as if the universe were conspiring against him there you were coming out of the printer room, heels clicking against the floor, hips swaying, a form-fitting blouse leaving just enough to the imagination. And Spencer had a very vivid imagination. Watching you float towards him was really all it took to have him standing at attention, heart rate skyrocketing. But you were ever the overachiever, threading his tie between your fingers and pulling him in for a kiss. Your knee came up between his legs and he automatically rocked into you, still worked up from your relentless denial. You ran your tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss and applying even more pressure. “You’ve been so good, sweetheart. Trying your very hardest to control yourself. It’s adorable.”

It didn’t even occur to Spencer that he had to return the monitor along with his notes in less than 10 minutes, he was cumming in his pants as soon as the praise left your lips, whining into your mouth as he finally attained his long-awaited release. He looked down at you in shock as you stepped back. “Shit, Y/N! What do I do? They’re gonna call me up in 5 minutes!”

You gave him a mocking look of sympathy as you smoothed the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “Guess you better get cleaned up then”

---

“Dr. Reid, I’d like to see you again for a follow-up.” The doctor on the left scribbled their name on the bottom of a form and handed it to Spencer. He gave the paper a quick glance before looking over at Hotch with wide eyes. Help me.

Hotch sighed, taking the form from Spencer and giving it a quick scan before returning it to the evaluation team. “As we know, Dr. Reid has had a tumultuous history with these physical assessments. However, he is an invaluable member of this team and has proven himself in the field time and time again. I don’t see any reason to prolong this evaluation. Now if you’ll excuse us, I believe Dr. Reid was your last appointment of the day”

They protested but Hotch fixed them with his trademark stare and they stood up to leave. “Very well, but Dr. Reid will not be exempt from his yearly fitness test this time.”

Spencer gulped, watching them file out the room. He turned to Hotch thanking him as he took his file and turned to leave, glad it was over. But before he could leave, Hotch cleared his throat. “I take it Y/N will be helping you train for your fitness test”

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Fallin’ For You // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: I saw that your requests were open I was wondering if you could do something with Anthony x reader maybe the reader gets Injured somehow or something? Just fluffy worried Anthony really 😂 - @nicole198205

A/N: More mindless fluff! I’m sorry it isn't more substantial, but I had my first covid vaccine yesterday and I can barely move my arm. Anyway, I hope you all like!! <3

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader

Warnings: female reader, injuries, minor injuries, nothing overly serious, worried Anthony. 

Word count: 1.9k

For all of the education allowed to women of your station, even your governess would be shocked at the litany of swear words leaving your lips as you do your best to limp across the stretching, green lawn of Aubrey Hall. 

A morning walk. A lovely, morning walk where you could observe the grounds of your marital home – that was all you wanted, all you had really planned of your day. You weren’t to know of the tree root sticking up from the ground; its limbs gnarled and mangled as it stretches out across the forest floor. 

You felt something rip as you fell to the ground; your left ankle trapped within the tree root, a pained yelp leaving your lips as you scraped the palms of your hands on the rocks littering the floor. Wounded pride, wounded hands, wounded ankle – you took a quick inventory of your injuries as you let the tears fall in privacy before dragging yourself to your feet, briefly wondering how much more damage you would do to your ankle before making it home.

The closer you get to the grand seat of power of the Bridgerton family, the straighter you force your posture, determined to hide the worst of the pain until safely hidden away in your bedchamber where you could release the waiting sobs and cries of agony. The main door is too far away, and the thought of limping to the heavy wooden doors almost sends you to the floor once again. Instead, you hobble to the side entrance to the kitchen where not even the delicious aroma of shortbread could keep the tears at bay. 

“Lady Bridgerton!” The cook, Mrs. Black gasps as she catches sight of your muddied gown and the pained expression on your face. “Are you okay? Should you be walking?”

“I’m alright, Mrs. Black,” You smile painfully, attempting to ignore the piercing pain spreading through your foot and ankle. 

“You’ll tell me anything!” She cries, flapping her teatowel at you. “I’m going to get Jenkins. Do not move,” She warns, fixing you with an unimpressed but concerned look.

“I don’t think I could if I tried,” You admit, leaning against the wooden frame of the doorway for support, relieving your injured ankle of your body weight. 

You let your eyes slip closed, letting yourself fall into the pain for a single moment, slowing your breathing as you feel the first tears slip down your cheeks.

“Lady Bridgerton!” Jenkins’ concerned shout has you opening your eyes, meeting the aged grey eyes of the butler that had looked after you since the first days of your marriage to Anthony. His eyes run over you quickly, assessing the situation with a speed decades in services has gifted him. “Do you think you can walk to my office?” He asks quietly; his voice almost a whisper. 

Mrs. Black answers for you; her Yorkshire accent becoming thicker the more upset she becomes. “Walk! The poor girl can barely stand! Walk, my great aunt,” She mutters, rolling her eyes as she settles her hands on her hips. 

Jenkins closes his eyes for a count of three; letting Mrs. Black have her rant before shaking his head with exasperated fondness. “Mrs. Russell, Mrs. Black – would you please help Lady Bridgerton to my office.”

The order is given, and the respected butler turns away, heading to his office to grab a chair and something for you to rest your ankle on. 

Mrs. Russell and Mrs. Black each take an arm, holding you steady as you hobble your way to the butler’s office. 

The room smells like old paper and tobacco; it puts you at ease as you settle into the chair already set up for you in the middle of the room. Jenkins remains close to his desk; his eyes fixed on your ever swelling ankle. 

“There you are,” Mrs. Black whispers softly. 

“Thank you,” You whisper to the beloved cook.

“It’s no issue, my lady. I’ll bake you something special and sweet for dessert tonight for managing to walk back to the house in your state.”

You smile at the cook; your bottom lip beginning to wobble as she squeezes your arm once before taking her leave. Sighing painfully, you wince as you adjust the ankle resting on the small, green ottoman. 

“What happened, my lady?” Jenkins asks, remaining close to his desk. 

“It’s all so silly,” You begin, “I was on my morning walk as I told you about this morning over breakfast with Anthony. Anyway, I was just beyond the tree line when I must not have looked, and I tripped over a tree root. I couldn’t simply stay there, lying on the floor so I made my way back to the house, but the main door is so far away. The kitchen was closer and I’m so glad because you got to me quicker.”

Jenkins nods once; accepting your story for what it was: the truth. He kneels down beside your injured ankle, meeting your gaze. “May I?”

You nod once, biting your lip to keep from whimpering pain as Jenkins makes quick work of examining your injury.  “I’m going to have to get the Viscount, my lady,” Jenkins sighs, his gaze meeting that of the Head Housekeeper, Mrs. Russell.

“Are you sure?” You question, not wanting to pull Anthony away from his work. You try not to wince as you move your ankle to the left and the right. “See!” You gesture, “I’m moving it just fine.”

Jenkins shakes his head, doing his best to hide a smile at your stubbornness. “With all due respect, my lady, I can see the bruise beginning to bloom. I don’t think you’ll be walking for a few days.”

You sink further into the chair, groaning. “I had so many plans for this week,” You whine, covering your face with your hands as you fight off the first wave of tears. “That damned tree root!”

Jenkins blinks once, twice, three times at your use of such language before releasing an amused chuckle. Mrs. Russell shakes her head at the sight, stepping further into the room. The aged Housekeeper settles a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly before uttering, “I shall go alert the Viscount. You do not move from this chair.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Russell,” You promise, flashing a watery smile at the woman as she leaves the room. 

Jenkins’ hand settles on your knee as more tears threaten to fall. “It’s alright, my lady. We’ve all injured ourselves.”

You sniff, drying your eyes with the caring butler’s handkerchief. Jenkins’ shifts back to his desk; resting on the edge of it as he awaits the arrival of the Viscount, knowing full well that Anthony would soon be flying through the door to his office. 

------------

“(Y/N)!” The Viscount all but shouts as he rushes down the stairs of Aubrey Hall. Mrs. Russell had explained your injuries, but it had done very little to quash the unadulterated worry settling deep within Anthony’s gut. 

“(Y/N)!” Anthony bellows once more, rushing through the large kitchen to Jenkins’ office where he finds you settled on a chair with your left ankle propped up on a small, dark green ottoman. 

“Darling,” He gasps; the breath rushing from him in one movement. He falls to his knees beside you; his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “What happened?”

“I feel so foolish,” You whisper, voice breaking as fresh tears begin to line your eyes. 

Anthony’s thumb brushes across your cheekbone. “An impossibility. You could never be such a thing.”

“I fell over a tree root, Anthony. Not exactly graceful.”

He clamps his lips shut, determined not to let the relieved laughter fall from his lips. Anthony had only known such fear upon Mrs. Russell’s announcement of your injury once before; the anguished cries of his younger sister Eloise, the one to find their father dead in the garden. To see you sitting in Jenkins’ office, the only injuries being your ankle, scraped hands and your pride, Anthony could have wept in relief. 

“You don’t have to be graceful,” Anthony whispers, “You just have to be okay.”

“I’m okay now that you’re here,” You whisper, leaning in at the same time as your husband. 

Anthony kisses you as if there wasn’t an audience at the door. Unhurried, Anthony holds you close, his hands moving from your cheeks to your neck before settling on your shoulders. 

He breaks the kiss; dropping one, two, three quick kisses to your mouth before pulling away completely. “We’ll call the doctor tomorrow morning. For now, I want you to rest. Let’s get you somewhere comfortable.”

“You can’t carry me all the way to our room!” You laugh, “I’ll have to hop part of the way.”

“Not a chance, darling.”

“I can do it,” You state, crossing your arms stubbornly.

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just saying you won’t get the chance because I’ll be carrying you the whole way.”

“Anthony, my love, that’s too far.”

“Watch me, darling.”

With that, Anthony scoops you into his arms, your head resting comfortably against his strong shoulder as he begins the climb to your shared bedroom.

-----------

The bed feels close to heaven as you settle on top of the covers; the lush fabric greeting you like an old friend as you sit back against the headboard. Anthony grabs the first pillow he can reach, gingerly lifting your ankle and apologising profusely when you wince in pain as he tucks the pillow underneath. 

“Will you need help changing, my lady?” Your Ladies’ Maid, Annie, asks, having followed Jenkins and Mrs. Russell through the house as Anthony carried you. 

Your husband answers for you. “No, thank you, Annie. Take the rest of the day off, I’ll look after Lady Bridgerton.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Annie answers, curtseying before leaving the room; Jenkins and Mrs. Russell following.

You fix your husband with an interested look. “What?” He asks, a smirk beginning to grace his lips.

“You’re going to look after me, are you?”

“What kind of husband would be if I didn’t?”

“Touché,” You answer with a laugh, “So you’re going to get me changed?”

“As if I haven’t undressed you before,” Anthony smirks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he begins to undo his cravat. 

“Anthony!” You laugh, throwing one of the many pillows on your bed at your beloved husband. He catches it with ease, throwing it to one side before crawling up the length of the bed, taking care not to jostle your ankle. 

Anthony props himself up by his elbow as he gazes up at you. Your tears have long since dried, but your eyes still show the pain you keenly feel. Anthony frowns; if he could take away your pain, he would – he’s adamant that you should never feel an ounce of pain, but even he couldn’t help the occasional sprained ankle.

“You scared me half to death this morning,” He whispers, reaching for your hand. 

“It’s a sprained ankle, my love. We’ll summon the doctor first thing tomorrow like you said and he’ll confirm our suspicions.”

“Still,” Anthony breathes, bringing your joined hands up to his lips upon which he places a multitude of kisses.

“I have no plans on leaving you prematurely,” You promise, reaching to stroke a hand down his cheek. At the last moment, Anthony turns his face, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. He closes his eyes at the feel of your hand on his cheek; he inhales the familiar, comforting scent of your floral perfume. Rose standing out amongst the rest; he lets the scent take him somewhere calmer as his heart finally begins to slow down. 

“No more walking the grounds alone,” He states, eyebrows furrowing with the severity of his words. 

“I won’t need to if you join me,” You tease, “Think of all the trouble we could cause in the great outdoors.”

******

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz @iammirrorball @writeroutoftime @joyfullymulti @nuttytani

Anthony Bridgerton taglist: @multifandomfix

[thatbritishactor]

In Between Breaths (part 3)

In Between Breaths (part 3)

Pairing: Benjamin Greene x Reader

Summary : Literature College Professor Benjamin Greene moves to the US after his divorce with Julia.  Heartbroken, he’s given up on the idea of love. Everything changes when he meets you.

Warnings: None for now, except for some cursing. I have no idea if this fic will be smutty.

Type: Slow Burn

Total Words: 1,600

In Between Breaths Playlist

My Masterlist

Part 1   Part 2      Part 4   Part 5

The next time you meet Benjamin, you bring the promised pastries, and a small copper colored watering can you’ve found in your father’s attic. You show up at nine, and he opens the door of his office for you, smiling widely.

“Come in” he says, and you could swear your ears just had an orgasm just by the sound of his voice. You try and tame the butterflies overrunning your belly and take a seat across from him. Glancing briefly at the clutter on his desk, you purse your lips.

You want to address the mess, but it might be too soon yet. You look at him while he crosses the room to sit and detail his silhouette: he’s wearing dark jeans and a grey cardigan over a buttoned-down shirt, and you look away, fearful that he might catch you while you’re checking him out. He slides his glasses on his nose and looks at you, his charcoal eyes assessing you.

“How are you?” he asks politely.

“I’m fine, I brought what was promised, actually.” You retrieve the watering can from your bag and put it on his desk; his eyes widen.

“Oh, so you were actually serious.” You can hear hints of resignation in his tone.

“I won’t tolerate plant abuse” you joke, looking up from your bag, meeting his dark gaze.

He smirks, seeming unimpressed. “Of course, the plant savior, I should have known.”

You smile back at him and display the paper bag containing the scones you’ve purchased for the both of you on the desk between you. Benjamin’s eyes widen again, and you can tell that he’s starting to figure out that you’re quite a literal person.

You shrug, knowing from experience that snacks help people bond, and wanting to diffuse the awkwardness you feel when you’re around him.

“You shouldn’t have.” He seems a bit embarrassed.

“Please, it’s nothing” you dismiss with a hand gesture. “I didn’t have breakfast this morning and I’m starving; those aren’t for you.”

Benjamin straightens his back. ���Do all TAs bring offerings to their professors or am I just a lucky bastard?” The shadow of a smirk plays at the corner of his lips, and you’re pleased that he feels comfortable enough to swear. You blink a few times, feeling flustered at his veiled compliment.

“Nah, you’re just lucky” you wink, amazed by your own audacity.

Benjamin lets out a laugh, a sound you know that you’ll grow fond of, and you exchange another complicit glance before he reaches for a scone. “You forgot the tea.” He bites into the baked good, and you scoff.

“Do I have to do everything in this office?” you gasp, pretending to be offended and putting a hand over your chest.

“Be careful, I could get used to this.” He waves the scone. Smiling to yourself, you think that you’re satisfied from the reaction you got from him.

“Alright, let’s get to work, shall we?” he chuckles, and you nod, eager to start.

You spend the entire morning going over his syllabus for his class on Antigone, first by going over the work of Sophocles, then Euripides, and Jean Cocteau. You surprise him when you bring Jean Anouilh up, because he hadn’t considered him. It brings you an immense sense of pride, and you beam when he adds the play to his program. Benjamin and you decide to end the syllabus on Seamus Haeney, and when you look at your watch again, you’re surprised to notice that three hours have passed.

“Oh gosh, I’m gonna be late for class” you squeal. Benjamin looks up from his book, his beautiful lips parting.

“I’m so sorry, I hadn’t noticed the time.”

“It’s fine” you reassure him, shoveling your notes and books into your satchel. You stand up, putting your bag over your shoulder and point to the plants.

“Will you water them?”

Benjamin follows your gaze and chuckles. “I will, thank you for the gift.” His eyes meet yours, and you find a heat in them that makes you feel suddenly warm. You wonder if it’s just your imagination, playing with the handles of your bag.

“Alright, I’ll see you next Thursday?” you ask in a voice higher than usual, and he nods, sitting back in his chair.

“Sure, but I’ll bring breakfast this time” he states in a smooth voice, sliding his glasses on his head.

“It’s a deal.” You smile at him one last time before leaving his office. Once you close the door behind you, you let out a loud sigh.

This might be more complicated than you thought.

* * * * * * * *

Weeks pass and every time Thursdays arrive, you find yourself buzzing with excitement. You notice that your meetings Benjamin are the highlights of your week, and you try not to dwell into that, sensing that there might be danger ahead. The hours spent with him leave you feeling euphoric, breathless, and dizzy, and you often daydream about Benjamin while you’re sitting in class.

Every week, you share a different type of pastry: scones, brownies, cookies, muffins, cupcakes, pies, and you start to associate the sugary treats with Benjamin, wondering if he does the same.

After you’re done with the syllabus, you move on to assignments and quizzes. You find out that they’re fun to come up with, part of you knowing that the person you’re doing them with might be responsible from the pleasure you take from it.

Benjamin’s reading your notes, looking focused when you let your gaze wander over his office, falling on the plants.

“Haven’t you watered those?” you ask, scandalized. The peace lily’s leaves are falling and look soft, while the ZZ plant’s leaves are turning brown. Only the cacti look healthy, and you frown.

“Oh no, I have” Benjamin asserts to defend himself. You scoff.

“Well, you must be really bad at it.”

He laughs “You’re a critical person, did anyone tell you that before?”

“Never.” You get up from your seat to observe the plants, going around the desk and behind Benjamin. Touching the leaves lightly, your fingers ghost over the shelves.

“Do you want me to take care of them?” you ask, turning back to him.

You smirk when you notice that Benjamin’s eyes were wandering on the lower half of your body. He looks away, and you observe that his cheeks get red. Biting on your lower lip, you repress a nervous laugh. So, is the attraction mutual? That might be good news.

Benjamin clears his throat: “Perhaps you should show me how to care for them.” He seems to have regained some composure and you lock eyes, tension building between the two of you. You’ve caught your breath without realizing it and release a shaky sigh.

“Alright.”

Both looking away from each other, you seem to feel equally awkward. You regain the seat on your side of the desk, studying your notes, and risk a quick glance at him. You smile when you notice that his cheeks are still red, repressing a laugh.

Before you know it, Benjamin and you share inside jokes. You name all the plants in his office: the cacti are called Ernest and Scott, the ZZ plant Gustave (after Flaubert), and you pick the name Honoré for the peace lily. You show Benjamin how to care for each plant, and he surprises you one morning when he brings a new one into the office, a small dracaena. Your eyes widen when you spot the newcomer, and Benjamin lowers his eyes, looking suddenly timid.

“You might have made me a plant lover” he confesses, and you blush intensely, not knowing what to reply. You both decide to name the plan Virginia, and before you know it, several other plants have made their way on Benjamin’s shelves.

A sense of familiarity grows between the two of you, and you find yourself arriving constantly late to the class you have after your meetings with him. You don’t want to tell him, fearful that he might shorten the moments you share together.

One morning, after you’ve shared tea and a particular savory batch of muffins, he surprises you:

“So, I’ve been gently scolded by Professor Banks” he declares, and you choke on your tea.

“What? Why?” Your heart is suddenly racing.

“Because apparently, his most gifted student constantly arrives late on his Thursday classes”

You look up from your cup of tea, meeting his dark eyes. Blushing at the compliment, you get lost in his investigative yet sweet gaze, almost forgetting what you were talking about before.

“Oh” is all you say, unable to form a more eloquent answer.

“Why haven’t you told me?” he looks a bit concerned.

You look away from his face, trying to gather your senses. “I just didn’t want to bother you” you venture, “And it’s my fault, I have poor time management.”

“I’m sure we could find a solution” Benjamin leans against the back of his chair, looking at the books on the shelves. “If we met twice a week, you could leave early for your Thursday classes” he suggests, looking back at you.

It takes the air out of your lungs, because meeting him twice a week would make your life more delicious than it already is.

“Sure” you answer, smiling weakly. “Aren’t you gonna get tired of me though?” you immediately regret the words leaving your lips and internally slap yourself, because this might not be appropriate talk between a teacher and their TA.

Benjamin’s smile widens, his dark brown eyes looking impossibly soft, and his reply caresses you. “I don’t see how that’d ever be possible” he answers, and you feel your insides melt.

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 Part 4

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Thank you for giving motivation to continue this story!! I hope that you like this part, tell me what you think about it?

Also if you have favorite teacher/student tropes, I’m all ears :)

<3

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Taglist

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