#medical stools

[d-maxhealthcare1]

#hospital_furniture

#medical_equipments

#derma_chair

[simsonj006]

Medical Stools | Industrychairs.com.au

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[chubbychiquita]

a visitor came over today and marveled that every chair in my home is broken in a remarkably fat way

[camille-lachenille]

Me: So, I have these dizzy spells that take me when I am walking and I almost fall bc of them. I also have trouble standing for any period of time because of my poor balance, which is made worse by the above mentioned dizzy spells.

My doctor: have you considered sitting down when this happens?

Me: Gee, thank you Sherlock! I really never thought that sitting down could solve my problem with standing up. But did you hear the part where I told you I kind of like walking and the point is for me to still be able to go out of the house for more than 1 hour at a time?

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

You don't know how full of shit you really are until that glycerin suppository takes effect, makes things squishy, and you can finally unload what's been bothering you.

[mothjinxed]

for a day or two i was starting to get better but my health crashed down again today, i've been nothing but a withering and crying mess and my pain medication isn't helping 🫠 ahhh

[2readiscworld]

I'm worried about Vetinari's diet

[vampirebiter]

literally why do my feet and legs hurt so bad when i did actually hardly anything at work today...

[ceyhanmedya]

What is Dumping Syndrome? How is the treatment? 2023

New Post has been published on https://bankakredin.com/what-is-dumping-syndrome-how-is-the-treatment-2023/

What is Dumping Syndrome? How is the treatment? 2023

Various complications may occur after gastric surgeries applied in the treatment of stomach cancer and obesity. One of the most common complications is the disorder defined as dumping syndrome. When food intake starts after operations affecting the stomach and esophagus, dumping syndrome presents with digestive problems. But surgery is not the only cause of dumping syndrome. A diet high in sugar can also cause dumping syndrome by accelerating the intestinal transit of food. You can follow the rest of the article to get more information about dumping syndrome.

What is Dumping Syndrome?

Dumping syndrome is the name given to the rapid emptying of the stomach and insufficient nutrient absorption, which often develops after surgery or with the intake of large amounts of sugary food. In general, it is seen when the patient starts to take food again after gastrectomy, where part or all of the stomach is removed. Depending on how long the symptoms of dumping syndrome appear after food consumption, it is called early or late dumping syndrome. Early dumping syndrome manifests itself with symptoms such as cold sweats, fainting, diarrhea, and gas within 5-30 minutes after eating. Late dumping syndrome occurs later. Late dumping syndrome causes hypoglycemia (low sugar) and tremors, sweating or loss of consciousness within 1-3 hours after eating.

What Are the Symptoms of Dumping Syndrome?

Dumping syndrome symptoms are caused by the rapid emptying of the stomach. Symptoms are usually hypoglycemia (low sugar) and digestive system disorders:

Palpitation

Tiredness

Faint

Weakening

Sweating

Headache

Pallor

Diarrhea

nausea and vomiting

stomach rumbling

Swelling

stomach cramps

Hypoglycemia (low sugar)

What Causes Dumping Syndrome?

The causes of dumping syndrome are gastrectomy, which is the surgical removal of part or all of the stomach, which is generally performed for stomach cancer, diets in which high sugar foods are consumed, gastric bypass used in the treatment of obesity, and esophagectomy procedure in which part or all of the esophagus is removed. Due to the surgical procedures performed, intestinal adaptation is impaired and the stomach volume is reduced. The reduced stomach volume causes food to pass through the small intestine more quickly. Foods that circulate through the digestive system quickly cause more digestive system hormones to be secreted and cause problems such as nausea and diarrhea. Symptoms usually improve within 1-1.5 years with nutritional therapy or drug therapy.

How Is Dumping Syndrome Diagnosed?

A person who has had stomach or esophageal surgery recently, showing symptoms compatible with dumping is often sufficient for diagnosis. In the absence of surgery or when a definitive diagnosis is desired, doctors use oral glucose test, hydrogen breath test, x-ray and gastric emptying screening methods. As a result of the tests, the necessary treatment for the person who is diagnosed with dumping syndrome is started by the relevant doctor.

How Is Dumping Syndrome Treated?

Dumping syndrome is eliminated over time with dietary changes or medical and surgical treatments. Sometimes, in patients who are resistant to medical treatment, symptoms are reduced by nutrition. Patients with dumping syndrome should reduce their meals and increase the frequency and number of meals. Meals should be consumed slowly and more than one liquid should not be consumed at the same meal. Alcohol consumption should be avoided as it will trigger the syndrome. The doctor may prescribe drugs that slow down the absorption of carbohydrates or slow the rate of gastric emptying, if he deems it appropriate.

What Are the Misconceptions About Dumping Syndrome?

There are many studies on dumping syndrome. There are also practices that have been proven true by these studies but can be considered wrong among people.

The idea that dumping syndrome will continue for life is quite wrong. With dietary changes and drug treatments, the symptoms begin to subside or disappear completely after a while.

People with dumping syndrome can completely eliminate the intake of liquid products with food from their lives. There is no problem in consuming as much liquid as the person can tolerate 30 minutes after meals.

Milk and dairy products are not always foods that should be avoided in dumping syndrome. Consuming tolerable amounts or using lactose-free options prevents symptom formation. If it does not cause discomfort, there is no problem in consuming it by balancing fluid intake.

It would definitely be a mistake to reduce water consumption along with liquids. Between meals, as much liquid as possible should be used in favor of water. Dehydrating the body also invites other ailments such as constipation.

Consumption of continuous solid food may cause constipation, but if the consumed solids have high fiber and fiber content, this problem disappears with adequate water intake.

Dumping syndrome does not only develop due to surgery, excessive sugar consumption is also a cause.

Can Dumping Syndrome Be Treated With Herbal Methods?

Herbal products, which slow down gastric emptying by increasing the consistency of foods, help alleviate the effects of dumping syndrome. The addition of pectin obtained from the cell wall of plants to foods increases the consistency of the food, prevents sugar drop and delays gastric emptying. Another herbal source that increases the consistency of foods is guar gum. Guar gum is available in powder form and as a thickener increases tolerance to intolerable foods; slows the rate of gastric emptying. Glucomannan, which slows gastric emptying by swelling when added to water, and psyllium husk, a bulking fiber, gels and is used to relieve symptoms.

What Foods Should Be Avoided in Dumping Syndrome?

Foods that accelerate gastric emptying are the most problematic for dumping syndrome. Since symptoms are caused by increased gastric emptying rate, nutritional therapy should be prepared to slow gastric emptying. Sweets, breakfast cereals, foods made from white flour, carbonated beverages accelerate gastric emptying due to their high simple sugar content. Alcohol consumption, in particular, causes an increase in symptoms. If milk and dairy products increase symptoms such as gas and diarrhea, these products should also be avoided. It is important to spread fluid consumption throughout the day. Fruit juices, fried foods, caffeine, hard and dry red meats are prohibited or should be reduced.

Can Exercise Be Done in Dumping Syndrome?

After an average of 1 week from the surgeries that cause the syndrome, exercise can be started with light walks. Doing strenuous and non-compulsive exercises is not a problem. If there is a non-surgical dumping syndrome, exercise is generally not a problem. Exercise should be stopped as soon as discomfort is felt. A doctor should be consulted before starting to exercise.

What Do Scientists Say About Dumping Syndrome?

People with dumping syndrome should consume their food by dividing it into six meals instead of three meals. Liquids should not be consumed at least 30 minutes before meals. Gas-producing foods from meals should be reduced. Lying down for 30 minutes after a meal helps reduce symptoms. Slow-release medications prescribed by the doctor relieve symptoms. Dumping syndrome is not a life-threatening condition if precautions are not taken, but it reduces the quality of life.

What Foods Are Good For Dumping Syndrome?

Slowing the rate of gastric emptying is the cornerstone of nutritional therapy in dumping syndrome. Slowing the absorption of carbohydrates and increasing the number of meals help slow the rate of gastric emptying. To slow the absorption of carbohydrates, high-fiber foods such as broccoli, carrots, spinach, Brussels sprouts, and oats should be chosen. Whole grain breads, pasta, potatoes are other good sources of fiber. Meals should include high-protein eggs, fish, and white meat, along with fibrous carbohydrates. Protein and fats should be consumed along with fruits and vegetables, but portions should be small. There is no harm in using butter and vegetable oils in meals.

Surgical procedures needed for the treatment of diseases may cause side effects such as dumping syndrome. Under the doctor’s control, the side effects are prevented or treated. Do not try to apply any herbal or medical treatment without consulting your doctor.

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[drabeerelsaid]

Cysts of Entamoeba protozoans, E. coli and E. histolityca....

[nighthaunting]

speaking as someone who works in surgery, i can definitely second the fact that there should be changes made to the way surgeons are assigned surgeries and how nursing shifts are handled.

I've worked days where a surgeon starts at 0730 and works 12 hours straight because they have so many cases to do, and then the surgeon's still on call that night and comes back at midnight for an emergency, and then comes back the next day to do all the non-urgent cases that came up the night before. I've been at work at 2 am with no end to the case in sight because the surgeon can't stop until he figures out what's wrong. I've had to figure out how to get the straw of a juice box under a surgical mask while keeping the surgeon sterile because their hands started shaking from low blood sugar but they felt like they couldn't break scrub and leave the room because the patient was too critical.

I myself have worked a 12 hour shift, and then come home and barely gotten in bed before being called back for an emergency case and not gotten home again until 4 am. I've stood in the OR with the rest of the team absolutely punch drunk from exhaustion where every inane comment sets us all laughing hysterically. I've had 24 call where it was fully expected that if needed I would spend that full 24 hours working and only have whatever breaks I could get for myself between cases, because I was the relief person for someone else (I ended up working 13 hours straight until midnight). I've seen coworkers of mine work a full day's shift and then be called in to work a full night as well, and found them sitting grey with exhaustion in the break room at 0630 the next morning because they haven't been able to go home and there's no point if they're scheduled to work today as well and the clock-in window starts in 10 minutes. I've seen coworkers of mine take 48 hour call shifts over the weekends because that's what was left on the schedule when call was being assigned.

My hospital is not a trauma center. We don't keep a night team to run the OR through the night. It's just expected that we will maintain call readiness at all time. It's just also expected that if you have daytime call on the weekend you're going to work an extra 12 that that week.

A 6 hour shift would honestly be a dream, but even now my hospital and every hospital in my area is struggling to hire new OR nurses and actually reach "full" staffing levels because its a highly demanding and specialized area. Training and orientation for a new OR nurse measures anywhere from 6-8 months minimum, and is a huge investment of time and money. You have to want it and actually find satisfaction in the work that the majority of nurses don't. I myself, out of a cohort of nearly 60 nursing students, was the only one to go into the OR from my graduating class. Most of the nursing students who rotate through during clinicals are very much not interested or engaged by the OR, despite the best efforts of their preceptors. You just can't force people to do the job, and there's only so many people willing to do it.

And I should specify, a nursing handoff in the OR isn't actually some huge terrible danger. There's policy and protocol in place to make handoffs standardized and easy to do or else I wouldn't get lunch breaks. The real area that I think needs the most work is how call staffing for surgeons and nurses are handled, which requires more surgeons and nurses to be able to have that fresh staff available.

6 hour workday maximum i’m not kidding, if it can’t be done in that timeframe it doesn’t need doing.

[simsonj006]

Medical Stools

Buy ergonomic medical stools and chairs specially designed for hospitals, dentists, physios, or general medical practioner. 3 years warranty. Shop now.

Visit : Medical Stools

[discoverybody]

Discover the Meaning Behind a Black Stool

The color of your stool can provide useful information about your digestive health. While black stools are not always cause for concern, it is critical to recognize their potential consequences. Consuming black licorice, blueberries, or iron supplements can all result in black stool.

In most situations, the hue returns to normal within a few days. However, black stools may suggest underlying medical concerns, such as upper gastrointestinal hemorrhage or the presence of digested blood. This could indicate problems with the stomach, esophagus, or small intestine, as well as drug or liver issues. Black stools may indicate a variety of medical issues that require treatment. Black stool is associated with a significant risk of gastrointestinal hemorrhage, which can be caused by ulcers, gastritis, or upper digestive tract cancer. Peptic ulcer disease, esophageal varices, and Mallory-Weiss tears are also possible causes of black stools. If you have recurring black stools or other concerning symptoms such as abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, or unexplained weight loss, you should seek medical treatment to get a proper diagnosis. Healthcare providers will perform a thorough examination and diagnostic testing to establish the underlying reason of black stool. Treatment options depend on the underlying reason and may include medication modifications, stomach acid-reducing medicines, antibiotics for infections, or surgery. In addition to medical treatment, several home remedies and lifestyle adjustments may help alleviate symptoms and avoid black stool recurrence. These include avoiding meals that darken the stool, staying hydrated, minimizing stress, and abstaining from alcohol and tobacco.

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[cute-little-crow]

A seemingly innocent text message leads to a chain of events that turns your entire day upside down… who could have anticipated that?

Hey baby… I’m having the worst day at work. Everyone is really grouchy and I’m struggling to concentrate. Really wish I didn’t have to put up with this today. Sorry for being a downer, I hope your day is going better than mine!! Love you 💞

feat: Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier & Zayne (separately)

tw: female reader, fluff, suggestive, roleplay of kidnap (reader is in no danger), mentions of bomb threats (not genuine and not condoned in the slightest), bratty behaviour (mostly Raf), faked medical emergencies, sorry if I missed anything, Zayne being the most rational of the bunch (obvs)

an: I’d be happy to flesh out and expand any of these if there is interest (especially Xavier’s cause his was real fun 😏) 💖

His phone pinged from across the studio, a sound he could never ignore, especially when it was the tone he used only for you…

With a paintbrush tucked behind his ear, he leapt gracefully from his stool and wiped the dusty remnants of dried paint from his fingers onto his trousers. The white shirt messily—although he might say, artistically—tucked into the waistband was already streaked with the hue of colours making up his latest creation, and a purple smudge darkened the tip of his nose.

Rafayel smiled when your name emblazoned across the screen, but it faltered as he hastily scanned the neat little rows of text. He was full-blown frowning by the time he finished, mood darkened by the idea that there were people in the world that could allow you to feel so badly.

Didn’t they know you were better than they were? That you hung the moon and the stars. Made the tides rise and fall. Without you, their world would be devoid of colour—how mundane.

He wouldn’t stand for it, he couldn’t.

For the next thirty minutes he planned out his strategy. Scribbling ideas down only to angrily score them through when he realised how ridiculous they were. He needed something simple, and most importantly, believable.

A sudden idea popped into his head and he set off before he could change his mind… poor, poor you.

~

You wish you had been exaggerating when you sent off that earlier message, but today truly had been a total clusterfuck. It was barely noon and already you longed for the clutches of sleep that would come when you were tucked up in bed tonight.

The sour mood of your colleagues was rubbing off on you more than you would like, and the dark cloud of negative energy only grew bigger and more dense until it was impossible to see an inch in front of your nose.

Tapping your pen against the edge of your keyboard, you stared where the words should be occupying your screen. A blank document stared back—mocking you. With a frustrated growl, you sank forward with your head on your arms.

“Oh, there you are! Why are you still here?”

The frantic voice of your boss took you by surprise, peering up before jolting upright in your chair.

“Where else would I be?” You asked tentatively, mentally wondering if you had somehow missed a meeting.

“The hospital!! Your boyfriend is in reception bleeding all over the desk! He’s refusing an ambulance and says he’ll only go to the hospital if you take him. Come on, hurry!”

Panic froze your heart. Terror turning your blood to ice in your veins.

Rafayel came into view and immediately, you knew. You were going to kill your dumbass boyfriend for pulling such a ludicrous stunt. What was he thinking and why couldn’t anyone else smell the overwhelming scent of strawberries from the syrup he was claiming was blood?

“My love… at last. I don’t know that I can hold on much longer, please, take my hands,” he enthused, rivalling the most hammiest of actors.

Your lips pursed, and his eyes widened. Despite it all, you played along if only to get the security guard and receptionist to calm down. Taking his sticky strawberry fingers into yours, you cooed in your best impression of genuine concern.

“I can’t believe you didn’t go straight to the hospital, Rafayel. You might have bled out in my office reception, let’s get you out of here. Does it hurt? No, no… I’ll manage,” you reassured the ashen looking security guard whilst squeezing Rafayel’s fingers in a death grip.

He squeaked out a groan of genuine pain, but he deserved it for causing such a scene at your workplace. His bottom lip stuck out in a petulant pout that was only visible to you, corralling him along until you were in the staff car park and able to shove him bodily into the passenger seat.

You kept up the pretence until you were out of sight of the building and any security cameras before pulling over into a side street and cutting the engine without saying a word.

“I was—”

“Trying to get me fired?” you supplied, turning in your seat and pulling wet wipes out of the glovebox by the fistful.

Rafayel continued to look petulant, but the sticky mess smeared on his cheek and neck as well as covering both his hands and the cuffs of his shirt were too ridiculous for you to stay mad.

You giggled, and he side eyed you—cautiously. “You look… good enough to eat, baby. Smell good too.” Leaning close, you licked through the mess of syrup streaked over his hammering pulse point and heard his breathless little hiccup.

“It wasn’t my best plan ever, but it got you out of work, right?”

It was hard to argue with that. You conceded with a nod, starting the engine once more and peeling back into traffic.

“Mhm, true, and you brought me dessert. It’s a good thing that strawberry tarts are my favourite.”

Sylus welcomed the distraction of his phone vibrating from the pocket of his trousers. He had spent the better part of his morning listening to those with more money than sense, bumble through negotiations he had no intention of seeing through to fruition. But even so, he liked to dangle the carrot and see how high he could make them jump. Call it an entertainment of sorts.

“This meeting is over,” he intoned flatly, quickly rereading your message a second time whilst his frustration tried valiantly to leak outward.

The room emptied hastily—much to everyone’s relief—and once alone with his thoughts, Sylus let out a long aggravated sigh. His nostrils flared. His fingers drummed a war song against the enamel of his desk.

He supported your independence with his whole heart but there were times, like these, that he wished you would simply quit and join him in running his growing empire. Whilst he understood your reservations, and he certainly knew that he would be rather indulgent with your time if you worked side by side, he was not purely driven by his dick—only sometimes.

“Luke. Kieran. Get in here,” he called out.

Mere seconds later the brothers appeared, inquisitive though it might be hard for some to tell given the masks. Sylus leant back in his chair, debating his course of action and whether or not you might just explode when he pulled the trigger, metaphorically speaking.

“Yes Boss?” The brothers said in almost perfect unison, mischief evident in their voices.

“I need a favour, and I want you to make it convincing…”

~

This meeting was akin to listening to nails being scoured down a chalkboard, and that was about the most polite way you could put it.

You chewed on the end of your pen, anything to distract from the presentation being blasted at you from the large projector screen on the conference wall. Around you sat your colleagues and superiors, most looking equally bored, although a few opted to sit straight backed and bright eyed—the kiss asses—as you referred to them.

The hands of your watch seemed to move at half speed and you couldn’t believe there was another full hour ahead before you could find some solace during your lunch break.

An alarm pierced through the monotonous voice of the presenter on screen, you and your colleagues glanced around in confusion as it sounded unlike any fire alarm you had been present for. You sat up in your seat, twisting around to see people scurrying past the frosted glass windows until someone crashed into the door as if they had run flat out to get here.

“We’ve received a report that there’s a bomb in the building! Everyone out. Now! Don’t be stupid,” the man who you assumed was a part of security yelled at the nearest girl who had asked to go back to her desk to grab her bag. “Exit quickly and calmly. Don’t go back for anything!”

For someone advocating calmness, he sprinted away looking the absolute contrary to his guidance, but you didn’t have time to muse on it when everyone started to push and shove out of the doorway.

It wasn’t long before the panic and hushed conversations behind hands from the meeting point nearly a block away died down to be replaced by angry tuts and speculation over what might have happened.

There was a growing sense that the call had been a hoax which put nobody in a good mood, and you couldn’t blame them. Your car keys were back at your desk so you didn’t even have the option to leave.

Thankfully, you had your phone and whilst you had been scrolling social media—which was blowing up with the bomb threat news—a message popped up…

Need a ride, kitten?

You glanced around, eyes narrowed for the telltale flash of crimson but found none.

Maybe I do… maybe I don’t. Y’know, I’m surprised you’re not more concerned.

Concerned? Why should I be concerned? There’s no bomb. Keep walking this way, sweetie, you’re getting warmer.

You stopped in your tracks, mind whirring with the implication of his words. He didn’t… he wouldn’t. Fuck, he absolutely would.

Did you call in a fucking bomb threat?! You’re insane!!

Your steps had taken you closer to the mouth of a side street, it was shadowy and you didn’t so much as see Sylus, as you did sense him. The hairs on your neck stood to attention and for all your storming anger, you couldn’t deny the desire and affection curling around you.

“No,” Sylus purred into your ear from behind, looming out whatever blind spot he had stalked you from to rub a hand up your arm. “I didn’t call it in…”

“So it was Luke and Kieran, those two pests probably laughed themselves sick once it was done.”

Sylus tsked gently. He drew you carefully into his chest and kissed the crown of your head, happy to be reunited, even if it was the result of foul play. “Let them have their little fun, kitten. You wouldn’t be here if they hadn’t.”

It was impossible to stay mad, it was really was. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes and cupped his cheek until you could claim his lips, slow and deliberate.

“I hope you won’t pull these kind of stunts when we’re working together…”

His breathing stalled at your quip. Vermillion eyes searching yours for deceit or misplaced humour and finding nothing but truth. Sylus smiled…

“That’s a promise I can’t make, sweetie. But, I can promise you won’t regret your decision for a single second.”

Boredom was not something that Xavier handled well. He needed the thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline of the fight or the total blankness of deep, uninterrupted sleep.

So, perhaps it was serendipitous that you should text him at the precise moment he was ready to tug on his hair with the lack of activity. His smile was short-lived as he read the message, wishing he could somehow help.

Is there a way I could help, my starlight?

Xavier stared at his phone for a few seconds, willing the little bubble to appear that signalled your imminent reply, but after a little longer, he tossed it away and closed his eyes.

A ping made one eye crack open.

Not unless you know someone willing to kidnap me from this hellscape. Lol! Don’t worry about me, I’ll survive 💪🫰

He laughed. What a silly notion. Unless… why was the idea growing on him the longer he thought about it?

Did it make him depraved to want to fulfil that role, safe in the knowledge that not a hair on your head would be hurt in the process because he would be the one pulling the strings?

I mean… never mind. Lemme know if you change your mind. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do today. See you soon, pretty…

~

Your fingers flew across your keyboard, and to the casual observer it would seem like you were deeply engrossed in your work. The truth was that you were gossiping with a work friend over the IM chat feature.

Stretching your arms overhead, you tilted your neck from side to side until you heard a satisfying pop. It was going to be a long afternoon of very little to do. Maybe you needed to pace yourself if the workload was going to continue being this light?

You decided that some soda might cheer you up, so you took the short trip to the break room and happily procured the last can of your favourite flavour. It wasn’t until you were resettled at your desk that you notice the pink post it note on your screen.

Come to the supply closet. I have something for you.

The old adage of ‘curiosity killed the cat’ seemed to be lost on you as you trotted the short distance to the store room in question, wondering if maybe your friend wanted to continue your conversation without the fear of it being tracked. It didn’t even raise alarm when you discovered the small room in complete darkness.

“Tara? Are you in here?”

You tiptoed to the shelves in the very back, turning when you heard movement, only for solid lead to plummet into your stomach as a hooded figure dressed from head to toe in black stalked forward.

The lower half of his face was covered by a mask and the hood pulled low enough that you couldn’t see his eyes. You wanted to scream, to run or do something but your fight or flight failed to kick in. Instead, you backstepped right up against the faraway wall, watching as the man cocked his head and tightened his gloved fist.

You were inching around the perimeter of the room, closing in on the door and he was letting you. It was as if he were toying with you, waiting for you to make a move before he reacted. There was something unsettlingly familiar about his stature and the way he moved… but you didn’t have time to question it, it was now or never.

Lunging for the door, you made your move but he was faster and stronger. One arm wound around your middle whilst the other hand came up to cover your mouth, the scream in your throat trapped. His body was radiating pure heat whilst you thrashed to escape.

“Calm yourself…”

Only half aware of the words, you more heard the voice and confusion blanketed your thoughts. Your struggling lessened and you thought you heard him chuckle in response.

“You wanted to be kidnapped… right?” Xavier teased, carefully removing his palm to listen to your panting breaths.

“Xav—”

“Ah ah. Hush now. You’re not going to struggle. You’re going to walk with me to your desk, grab up your things and come with me without making a scene.”

Why were you so flushed? Why were your legs trembling from something other than fear? Did your heart have to pound quite so loudly? It might have been a joke earlier but somehow being kidnapped by Xavier had become one of the hottest things to ever happen in your life.

You nodded your agreement, accompanied by a soft whimper and he pulled you back against his body for a moment before releasing you. It was long enough that you could feel the growing bulge in his black sweats. The thought of keeping him in here flitted through your mind, but he was nudging you forward before you could let the lewd thoughts slip past your lips.

“Once we’re out of here and no one is watching…” you purred, letting your hand graze down the length of his stomach and stopping deliberately at the waistband of his trousers. “I’m going to make a break for it, I hope you’re ready to chase me.”

Xavier chuckled, dark and predatory.

“I won’t stop until you’re struggling beneath me, my starlight.”

For the first time in what felt like years, Zayne had a scheduled day off on a day you were due to work. You assured him that it would fly in if he simply allowed himself to relax, but here he was… staring at the wall.

It was barely 10am and every chore Zayne could think of had been taken care of. He even had time to start some dough for a fresh loaf of bread, the batch slowly proofing beneath a dish towel in the kitchen.

He had half a mind to go into the hospital and put his time to better use. At least he would be able to achieve something instead of sitting here, wishing you were beside him. Empty hours wouldn’t feel so bad if you shared them. He never felt bored when you were here.

Zayne’s phone thrilled from the coffee table and one glance told him the message was from you. Expecting a cute little reminder message that he was to rest and relax, he was not anticipating what he read.

It wasn’t like you to complain unnecessarily, especially because you genuinely enjoyed your job, so he knew that it had to be rough for you to send that message.

Can I help?

When you didn’t reply, he went to check on his dough to distract himself from thoughts of you, miserable and feeling demotivated.

I don’t think so, but thanks for the offer. Might skip movie night if you don’t mind… think I’ll go to bed when I get home.

Well now, that was simply unacceptable. Zayne knew from experience that denying your emotions never solved the issue, and clearly he needed to remind you of that.

~

There was a knock on your office door. It jolted you upright from where you were slumped over your desk feeling defeated. A courier peeked inside with a sheepish smile and confirmed your name. Once he was satisfied, he produced a beautiful bouquet of flowers in a frosted glass vase.

“These are for me? Are you sure?”

“It’s your name on the card and on the order slip… so yep! Enjoy your flowers, miss.” The man gave a short salute and left you to admire the beautiful blooms.

Your fingers stroked the velvet petals of midnight pansies and silvery lilies. The smell was gentle and sweet, much like the smile adorning your face for the first time today.

You didn’t need the little card tucked into the display to know who they were from and immediately you pulled out your phone and pressed the call button.

“Do you send flowers to all your patients, Dr Zayne?”

Zayne hummed, thoughtful for a second. “Only the ones that have captured my heart.”

Your grin only widened, he was so sweet.

“I don’t know if you realise how much this has brightened my day, you darling man,” you admitted with a soft sob.

The sound of traffic on the other end of the line caught your attention, and you wondered where he might be if not at home. As if sensing your question, Zayne provided the answer unprompted.

“Then I guess taking you out to lunch might be considered overkill?”

“Wait, what?”

“Look outside,” he cooed.

You nearly stumbled out of your chair in your rush to approach the window that looked down on the busy streets below. From your vantage point you could make out a man with a head of midnight hair leaning casually against the trees in the courtyard. Your breath hitched when Zayne glanced up to where he knew your office was located and tipped his coffee cup in your direction.

“Oh, Zayne…”

“Yes?”

“I’m not going to want to come back after we eat,” you grumbled honestly.

“That’s fine. I planned on you having a minor allergic reaction that will require personal treatment. I already have the story planned out when I call your boss in an hour.”

This man thought of everything and right now, you were eternally grateful of that. Smothering your laughter behind your palm, you started to stuff your belongings haphazardly into your bag.

“Y’know what? I love you and every immaculately planned out thought inside that big wrinkly brain of yours.”

“… I love you too?”

“That was a compliment,” you assured him hastily, practically running for the lift.

“Oh. Well, thank you, darling. I’ll see you in a minute so I can return the sentiment correctly.”

[drabeerelsaid]

Ascaris lumbricoides