#six oclock tea

[neurasthnia]

today i'm teaching a certification class to get other people certified with the Stupid Fucking Idiot work cert that I got done back in January. class three out of like fifteen i think

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter Six - Skipping to First in the Ever Growing Line

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

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Word Count: 2.5K

You hadn’t left your father’s side for a week and counting. Every waking moment was spent fretting over him - whether he was warm enough, whether he had enough to eat… whether he ate at all. You no longer made much of an effort to attend balls, much to Nemuri’s chagrin, and it had been a few days since you took a proper bath. Izuku was feeling just as drowned as you were - while you were serving as a caretaker of sorts, Izuku took on all of the work your father had to do on a daily basis; check the budgets, arrange business meetings, manage the family’s finances… it was just so much to do. Every time you heard your father croak or make a move to get up, you were always on your feet to aid him with whatever he needed. This kept you up late into the night and into the wee hours of the morning. You busied yourself with reading whatever you could to keep you awake. They whirled you away into their worlds of fantasy, romance, and adventure so rich and lovely that you wished to be swept up and dropped right into them. 

It was late, very late, and your nose was buried into the latest novel you had come across all the while making note of every time your father’s breathing was irregular and shallow. That’s why it surprised you when Mei stepped in quietly to say that you had company. You peered over at the little clock that was sitting atop the nightstand and looked back at her with a “are you serious?” look. She merely nods and motions with her head to follow. You don’t budge from your seat, instead pointing at your father who was asleep. With a silent motion, Mei pointed at you and then out of the door, then she pointed to herself and the chair that you were sitting in. You understood and, unhappily, rose from the wooden chair, patted her shoulder, and made your way down the long sweeping staircase. You were sure your hair was a mess and that your dress was all wrinkled, but you didn’t care. It was almost 1’oclock in the morning after all. What surprised you was that you didn’t have just one visitor, but four. All dressed in sharp suits and looking fresh as a daisy, the four young men looked up at you and gained a different response. There was Lord Iida who not only carried a briefcase, but also a vase of beautiful flowers. Well, his butler held that. Your gaze flickered to Shouto’s, and for a brief but fleeting moment, held them. And then there was Lord Kirishima and Lord Bakugou - the boys you had known for almost forever. Katsuki would tease Izuku relentlessly when you were younger, so he did the same with you, but it was all in good fun. Lord Kirishima became Lord Bakugou’s closest confidant - and you did expect that there was more to that relationship than they were letting on - and another one of Izuku’s friends. You cleared your throat as you stopped in front of them, gaining their undivided attention.

“Gentleman, to what do I owe the pleasure of this… lovely, yet early, meeting?” Your words come out a bit more harshly than you intended, but nevertheless you continued to stare the four of them down without your confidence shaking.

“Deku mentioned that he was in need of some help, Half-pint, ” Katsuki said, stepping forward. Katsuki had always been taller than you, hence your loving nickname that left his mouth so often. “Y’know where we can find him?” You didn’t have the urge, nor patience, to listen to why your brother needed four of them exactly, so you just led them to the study instead. You knocked twice and opened the door, revealing a frazzled Izuku sat at his desk, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows and his hair a frizzy mess. He looked up and his weary eyes met yours, and then the rest of your company.

“Midoriya, it’s been a while!” Kirishima said gallantly, walking over to him and putting a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“Seriously Deku, no words for a couple weeks and then we get a letter saying ‘need your assistance’? It would’ve been a shame if that got into the wrong hands and rumors started to float around.” Katsuki says, rolling his eyes. While the three of them conversed, Lord Iida stepped towards you, his butler in toe.

“I thought that you might be under a significant amount of stress lately, so I offer aid in any way necessary. He explains, earning a soft nod for you. “I also thought you might enjoy these flower arrangements - shall I have my butler place them in your parlor?”

“Yes, thank you Lord Iida. They’re lovely.” You decide not to mention how the arrangements were made up of white lilies, the flower that represents death. Lord Iida bows before you and in return you give him a quick curtsy. You slowly begin to step out of the room and you almost make it down the hallway before Shouto stops you.

“Y/N,” He breathes, his voice light but heavy with concern. You don’t correct him when he uses your first name. Instead, you turn to face him slowly. You see him open his mouth to talk but then hesitates.

“Would you like me to fetch a servant for tea? Because other than that, I genuinely do not know how I can be of service to you,” You sigh, bringing up one of your hands to daintily rub your eyes. I need to get back to reading, otherwise I’m going to fall asleep, you think to yourself. Shouto frowns and takes a step towards you.

“I want to be of service to you.” He admits. His eyes are soft and tender as they look at you, making you wish you had the strength to turn around and march back upstairs to your bedchamber. However, you were running on almost no sleep and hadn’t eaten in awhile, making you weak to his pretty face. Despite your fatigue, a small laugh escapes you.

“I’m not quite sure how that might work,” You say, letting one of your hands settle on your hip. “The young gentlemen of your social class, to my knowledge, have never been subjected to the studies of taking care of someone. That task normally falls upon the women of the household. And, from what I was able to see at your estate,” Shouto tenses at your words, remembering how your whole relationship dynamic swiftly changed when he brought you to his home, “you are up to your knees in servants awaiting your beck and call.” While your words might’ve seemed severe, they were true in all stances. Shouto knew this.

“I’m aware, I still want to help you.” His voice is no longer hesitant, but earnest and insistent. You give in.

“Alright then,” you murmur, motioning with your head that he could walk beside you. He took that opportunity quickly and the two of you settled into a comfortable pace, taking your time walking down the long hallway that ran through the left side of your house. The two of you are silent for a minute before Shouto decides to speak up.

“How much sleep have you been getting?” You expected this question, but that didn’t make it easier to answer. I should just tell him the truth, the bags underneath my eyes are evidence enough you think.

“Two, maybe three hours a night.” You hear Shouto suck in a breath and you peek over to see his eyes widen in concern.

“How much have you eaten today?” He asks more quietly, like he’s scared to hear the answer.

“Enough,” you say, hoping that will quell his questioning.

“Y/N,” He breathes, grabbing hold of your arm. Your nonchalant look seemed to cause exasperation from him. “You need to take care of yourself.” You shrug his grasp off.

“I need to take care of my father.” You say instead.

“Where are your kitchens?” He asks, provoking confusion to flash across your face.

“Is there a reason to visit them?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“We can get something to bring to your father.” And with that, the two of you began the ‘journey’ to the far corners of your home.

“Do you happen to know where everything is kept?” He asks you, peering over pots and pans that were hanging on the wall. You stifle a laugh at his incomprehension of how a kitchen works.

“The utensils and cookware resides there,” you point towards where Shouto was standing. “There is dried fruit in the cupboards over there and next to them are the fresh vegetables,” you motion to your left. “And the ice house is outside, which stores the milk, butter, and other perishables.” Shouto nods as he looks to where you had motioned, taking note of where everything was located.

“Perhaps we should bring him some dried Y/F/F,” He suggests, strolling over to the cabinet. With a small smile on your face, you shake your head.

“I have to disagree, Father can’t stand the taste for some reason,” You explain. Nonetheless, he digs through the cupboard and finds a little basket of dried Y/F/F. He places them in front of you on the small table.

“But you can. They’re your favorite.” He says, causing you to fluster.

“How did you know that?” You wonder, eyeing him.

“I would’ve loved to say intuition, but Izuku had mentioned it when I came into your parlor. That day when you so charitably entertained Lord Mineta?” A wistful smile fell across your face, thinking back to that time. Shouto had saved you from what would’ve been a most horrendous outing with that suitor, if you could’ve even called him that. “He said something about the fruit tarts on the table he and your father were sitting at, and mentioned how Y/F/F was your favorite. So, eat up. Then we can take something to your father.” You obliged his wants, taking a dried slice of fruit out of the basket and biting into it. The flavors seemed to wrap your taste buds in a warm, and much needed, hug that prompted your smile to grow bigger.

“Thank you,” you say genuinely. A small smile flickers across Shouto’s face at your words as he leans back on a countertop.

“Lord Iida’s flower choice was certainly interesting.” He says bluntly. You bark out a laugh and make haste to quickly cover your mouth, but the damage was done.

“I’m sure he meant no ill intent,” you try and reason, causing Shouto to roll his eyes.

“However he managed to become the suitor at the front of your ever growing line of them is beyond me.” You can hear the hints of jealousy in his voice, bringing you back to your conversation before you heard about your father’s condition. You choose to wave it off though.

“Ever growing line, huh?” You say, plucking another piece of fruit from the basket.

“You must know that you are the most desirable young lady that is out in the season.” He states. You cock your head to emphasize the point that you were in the dark about the subject Shouto was talking about, so he continued.

“Y/N.” The way your name leaves his lips causes your heart to leap. “Not only are you of high social status and come from an honorable and cherished family. You are kind,” he takes a step towards you. “Intelligent,” another step. “Beautiful.” He is now very close to you, maybe only about a foot away. It was when you looked up into his eyes that you knew. He was the one you must marry. Shouto was the only young man you have ever truly imagined a future with. He was not a bore like Lord Ojirou or disagreeable and sickening like Lord Mineta. You could be yourself around him. If you married Lord Iida, you would have to put on a show similar to the one you performed with his mother - the perfect little lady who was quiet, abiding… unspoken. Shouto liked your spunk and your loud little family. He treasured the small facts he learned about you with such care. He loved you.

“Shouto…” You whisper. To hell with the notion of marrying Lord Iida. You could deal with the social repercussions of that later, along with Shouto’s father’s clear disdain of you. That was all just white noise when you looked at the man in front of you and the tender look on his face. It was taboo to engage in serious romantic affairs before engagement, and even then, it was rare for a couple to show public displays of affection. But, you found yourself absolutely drawn to his lips. You leaned in just like the heroine from your book had, making sure that your eyes fluttered shut before you met his… but they never did. Thanks to the clamour coming from down the hallway, the two of you sprung apart and busied yourselves with something in the kitchen when the kitchen maids came in. Fighting a flustered expression, you made yourselves look up and meet your maids’ eyes.

“Oh Lady Yagi, we did not expect you to be here!” One of your maids piped up, curtsying to you and Shouto.

“It’s quite alright, Lord Shouto and I were just preparing something for my Father and didn’t want to bother you,” you explain, earning nods from the little group.

“Please, allow us!” They say, quickly working their way around the kitchen to whip up a small and nutritious meal. Cheese and crackers were placed atop a small tray along with a glass of chilled water. “Shall we take this upstairs to the senior Lord Yagi?” One of them asks, earning a shake of your head. You gently take the tray from her hands and smile.

“If you’ll allow it, I’d like to take it to him,” you say, your voice placated. The maid nods and curtsies again, letting you and Shouto pass through the small hallway together. Silence graces the two of you again but it’s different this time. It was no longer awkward and tense, but comforting and hopeful. The two of you would keep sneaking glances at the other, sometimes catching each other in the act.

“Can we discuss this…?” Shouto asks, his tone now shy again. You nod, not trusting your voice, and give him a smile. “Maybe on the promenade tomorrow morning?” You knew it was ridiculous to get as excited as you were about promenading with Shouto - for heaven’s sake, you already knew that he harbored feelings for you! But his invitation made it all the more real.

“That would be lovely.”

[fantasyfandommaiden]

ML Counsellor AU: Gabriel’s Session Revised

Mlle Carmine Regal was meeting M. Gabriel Agreste for the first time in person. She was not happy about it in the slightest. From what she had heard from Nathalie, as well as the off-handed comment from Adrien’s friends, it did not paint a good picture for the elder Agreste. However, she was doing a favour to both Nathalie and Adrien by doing so. However she notices that during the session… Perhaps Carmine was too quick to judge.

~~~~~

Gabriel Agreste sat stiffly in the chair in Carmine’s office, looking at her with a stern expression. He didn’t want to be here, as he had told Carmine not even ten seconds into getting into the office, but was only there to give Adrien some ease. 

Carmine had opened the window to allow a soft breeze in, and Gabriel glared at them before looking at Carmine. “Can we hurry this along. I was akumatized because I had believed that Adrien had lost a precious item of mine, I was upset, then Ladybug and Chat dealt with it. The book was returned by one of Adrien’s classmates. May I leave now?” Gabriel stated.

Carmine looked at him with a raised brow, trying yet again to calm her annoyance, so she sipped her calming tea, feeling it already begin to work. Gabriel looked at her with a confused expression on his face but quickly shook his head. “Mlle Regal, I am very busy man-”

“What did he take?” Carmine asked. “Why was it so important?” 

Gabriel glared at her, but Carmine simply raised a brow at him. His statement had… a lot of half-truths in it, but wasn’t fully. 

“... It was a book.” 

“... a book?” Carmine asked skeptically, and cringed at her lack of tak. She took a deep breath “... sorry. Why was the book important?” 

Gabriel’s face softened ever so slightly that most wouldn’t be able to tell, unless you were Carmine ‘Micro-expression reader’ Regal. 

“... The book was one that my wife and I found on our honeymoon to Tibet.” Gabriel stated, his voice cracking ever-so slightly. “... I use it often for inspiration for my designs. She would use it for inspiration for her writing...and…” 

Gabriel became eerily quiet, his breath becoming slightly laboured as he stared at the open window. Carmine recognised the small expression on his face… fear, paranoia, sadness…

Carmine looked at the window and back at Gabriel. “... M. Agreste, would you like me to close the window?” she asked him softly. 

“... and the blinds, if you don't mind.” he asked softly. Carmine nodded, getting up and closing the windows and drawing the blinds closed. Gabriel seemed to relax somewhat as Carmine sat back down, looking at Gabriel sympathetically.

“... Agoraphobia?” Carmine asked slowly. Gabriel scowled slightly, before sighing, shifting in his seat, adjusting his ascot. Although Carmine didn’t have a lot of experience dealing with people who had agoraphobia, she did recognise the signs of it. Most people who suffered from it had a general fear that the outside world was unsafe, so would often stay indoors… Carmine does recall that even before his wife went missing, Nathalie would often comment on how the fashion designer rarely went outside. 

“... Better for the public to believe I am a recluse than suffering from an irrational fear of going outside.” Gabriel stated blandly offhandedly. “... Emilie often helped me with it by often giving me ‘outs’ when things became too much… she was the only one aware of it.” 

Carmine bit her bottom lip softly before speaking again “Have you spoken to someone about her disappearance?” 

“No. I don’t trust therapists or counsellors.” Gabriel stated bluntly, looking directly at Carmine. “The last one I had when my father passed blurted my secrets out to the media the moment my name became well known… luckily I never told him anything truly personal.”

“He went against the code of doctor patient confidentiality.” Carmine said with a glare, although not directed at him. “I don't do that.”

“So you claim.” Gabriel countered, and Carmine tried her best not to take it personally as she took another sip of her calming tea, and once again Gabriel looked at her with a confused expression. 

“So the book was returned?” she asked evenly, figuring their last line of conversation wasn’t going anywhere. 

“... Yes, Mlle Dupain Cheng returned it to me.” he said evenly “... The book was undamaged luckily, which I’m thankful for.”

“... If you don't mind my asking, was taking Adrien out from school really a suitable punishment for losing a book?” Carmine asks him, to which he raised a brow. 

“... I’m sorry, what?” he asked in a confused tone, which in turn made Carmine look at him harder, wondering if the akuma incident honestly made him forget. She knows she can't forget the sobbing that Chloe did as she announced to almost everyone in the school how Adrien was being pulled out of school.

“Adrien… you took him out of school for losing the book.” 

Gabriel brows furrowed for a moment in confusion before he groaned, rubbing his temples “...No, I was not pulling Adrien out of school because of him losing my book.” Gabriel stated in an annoyed tone. “I’m stern, not cruel. I know how much school means to Adrien, and I will not have him go through isolation as a punishment. I told Adrien that he needed to stay at home to think over his actions,  and I would discuss his school when I calmed down.” 

Carmine looked at him with a curious manner. He was being completely truthful. “What did you mean by school if not to take him out?” 

“I was hoping that the school had security cameras so we could see where he most likely had lost the book, I was going to request access to it, however wanted to give Adrien a chance to think it over to see if he knew where it could be so that way we didn’t need to watch 8 hours of school footage.” Gabriel stated. 

“Why not give Adrien the chance to go to the school to search for the book?” Carmine asked him “Surely he would have had an easier time than thinking of all the places it COULD be?”

Gabriel tensed up slightly, looking as if he was debating telling her the next bit of information. “... Has my son ever come into this room to discuss things with you?” 

Carmine raised a brow “... Are you trying to change the subject?”

“Answer my question, and I may answer yours.” 

Carmine gave him a hard look. Adrien had only ever come to her office ONCE before, and that was because he was curious if Carmine had met his mother. They had talked about grief, and a bit about her disappearance… however.

“M. Agreste, even if your son did come to my office, I am not at liberty to say.” She took this very seriously. Any student, or facility for that matter, that came through her office was promised that no one would know what was spoken inside. The only exception to this rule was if the student showed signs that they were a danger to themselves or society. Adrien had been neither when she spoke to him last.

Gabriel starred at Carmine for a few moments, watching her expression. His face remained utterly neutral before he finally spoke. “I would like to think I know my son fairly well, Mlle. Regal. My son is an honest, straight-foward person. If he went to school, saying how he lost my book that I often and still do use for inspiration, no doubt his friends would attempt to help him… However, I cannot say for certain that those who would help would not stop themselves from also making copies.” 

A feeling of realization came across her as she looked at Gabriel. “... You were worried someone would steal your work.” 

“Or worse, find it, keep it for themselves, claim to never have found it.” Gabriel started with a sigh, rubbing his temples. “At the very least, Mlle. Dupain Cheng returned the book she ‘borrowed’ without my sons permission.” 

Carmine blinked as she looked at Gabriel “... you believed she stole it?” she asked. That did not sound like Marinette to steal someone else's property… at least the Marinette she knew.

Gabriel actually snorted at the statement. “No. She did not steal the book.” he stated, placing emathises on the ‘she’. “I believe she is trying to cover for someone else, or for Adrien, I can’t say for certain… What are your thoughts on her?” 

Carmine blinked, looking at him curiously. He wasn’t sure what he was getting at… and found that he was very good at getting attention away from him, which was annoying. “... Marinette Dupain Cheng is a responsible, kind, and determined young woman.” she said slowly. “However we aren't here to talk about Mlle. Dupain Cheng, M. Agreste…” 

“I am aware.” Gabriel responded, looking straight at Carmine. “However I don’t see why we are discussing my son.”

Carmine’s face remained neutral as she thought over how to breach this subject. It appears that a lot of what she had heard so far about Gabriel Agreste was one misunderstanding to another, and although she highly doubted that he had an excuse or explanation for his treatment of Adrien, she decided to take a shot in the dark here. 

“I can’t help but notice that Adrien himself has a fairly busy schedule… I fear that the stress from it all could cause him to eventually be akumatized.” 

Gabriel looked at her with a slight glare “... Children Adrien’s age need activities to help stimulate their brains, as well as help keep themselves out of trouble.” Gabriel responded. “I am aware that I may not seem as nurturing as he would need, but I have my son's best interests at heart.”

“There's busy, and then there's over-load though… like take for instance, what does Adrien have to do today after school?” Carmine asked, looking at him. She had half expected him to take out his phone to check (she knew that Adrien himself had difficulty remembering all of his activities) but to her surprise he responded easily.

“Right after school Adrien has fencing until four oclock, after which he will return home, have dinner, then piano lessons from six til seven thirty, after which he is to finish any homework he has. Before you ask, he has a similar schedule tomorrow however instead he has a photoshoot instead of fencing, which will run till 6:30, dinner, than homework.” 

Carmine blinked as she looked at him “... What about social time? Seeing friends? I am aware that you are not thrilled with Nino, but…” 

Gabriel gave a slight glare at the name “I am not ‘thrilled’ with him because he came into my home and insisted that Adrien needed a party. My son has barely been at school a month, I have yet to meet any of his classmates apart from Chloe who has known him since childhood. Birthdays are to be spent with family… although this year there was a problem with one of the portfolios going missing, which I needed help to track down but still.” Gabriel said, sighing, rubbing his temples. “... Are we done? I feel a headache coming on…” 

Carmine ground slightly. “... Very well. However, M. Agreste, although socializing doesn’t seem important to you, it IS important to a child's mental health… and maybe… LOOK at Adrien’s schedule? I know you have it memorized, but… remembering it, and seeing it are two different things…” she said, taking a sip of her tea as Gabriel stood up from his chair. He looked at her again in a confused manner.

“... what is in that tea?” he asked in a curious manner, eyeing the mug with utter-suspension. Carmine looked at him cautiously. She had noticed him looking at her and the mug whenever she took a sip. 

“... It’s a personal blend of peppermint, lavender, and a tiny amount of valerian, and a dollop of honey.” she said. As well as some of her own magic, but he didn’t need to know that.

“... Is that all?” he asked curiously. 

Carmine raised a brow at the statement. “... Yes, why?”

“... Everytime you drink it, you seem… calmer.” he stated in an off-handed tone, which caused Carmine to just smile widely.

“Well, it IS a calming tea.” she explained simply, sipping it again. “Perhaps I could make you one for your anxiety?” 

“... No thanks.” he said simply, turning around and leaving without saying another word.

~~~~

The next morning, Carmine overheard Adrien excitedly telling his friends how his photoshoots were cancelled for the next month, and that his father wants him to invite his friends over to formally meet them! 

While Adrien is coaching his friends on how to speak properly to his father, Carmine felt a small smile spread across her face as she sipped her tea again.

[dogboy-willgraham]

For my lovely friend @lunarmultishine Warning my dear, these probably won’t make sense, but I hope you enjoy!

Under the cut:

One: I wanted a butch Hispanic lesbian with a femme bean. Gloria is in no relation to the vampire Gloria I have written. 

She hands me a glass of something that might be lemonade, but there’s no knowing with her if she’s spiked it. I try to discretely smell it, hoping that if she put alcohol in it, that maybe it would be strong enough to catch without drinking it. Then hand it back trying to be as polite as possible.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” Gloria suddenly drawls. “It’s clean, I know you don’t like drinking,”

I make a small smile, trying not to look incredibly happy that Gloria remembered that, and cared enough to accommodate me.

“T-t-thank you,” I say, staring into my glass. “Y-yo-you didn’t need to-to do that,”

Gloria shrugs. “Beats you fussing over my drinking,”

I punch her arm playfully. “Shut up-up, it’s n-not m-my fault your d-d-drinking level is worse than th-that of an alco-alco-holic at six-six-t-teen,” I give her a teasing smile.

She punches back, accidently leaving a slight sting where she hit. “I do not drink that much you goody-two-shoes. I drink the perfectly normal amount for a mentally fucked American teenager,”

“Which s-should b-be zero,” I mumble.

Gloria frowns, her plump red lips sucked back into a thin curved line. I’d wish for nothing more than to not be the cause of her displeasure. And for a moment, I’m ready to do anything to keep her happy. But then, her tight frown is gone, and she’s got a hint of amusement and something I can’t quite place tugging at her lips.

“Maybe,” Gloria says quietly, taking a long drink from her lemonade. 

Two: Trans Irish Lesbian mine-worker and Pacific Islander coffee addict woman

Aluli’i stumbles to the kitchen, bags darker than Kennedi’s hands after a day at the mines under her eyes. There are only two things on her mind right now. Coffee, and getting her face into Kennedi’s bust, maybe sleeping there for a bit. But coffee first.

Kennedi is sitting on the counter when she came in. Sipping on her tea, if Aluli’i was awake she’d give her endless shit about.

“Mornin’ darlin’,” Kennedi greeted in her thick Gaelic accent. “Or afternoon, it’s almost 1’oclock baby. Stay up editin’ all night again? Well, anyway, I made coffee, figured you’d bein’ need of it,”

Note: I don’t have anything more than that, for I haven’t written much original stuff as of late, mostly fanfiction, if you couldn’t tell. 

[captain-kingliamsqueen]

Morning Workout! - Liam x Mc

Pairing: Liam x MC

Word Count: 2804

Masterlist

Warning: Curse words 😂

 ASK IF YOU WANT TAGGED! SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE!

I always notice every single spelling mistake or issue after I’ve posted…so apologies in advance! 

Tags aren’t working so I will be tagging in the comments.

It was early in the morning when Riley woke to an empty bed. Nearly every morning Liam would wake early to go for his morning workout. Riley climbed from the bed and made her way over to the window as she looked out at the palace gardens, she watched him doing push ups. Riley made her way to the kitchen where she began preparing breakfast for the two of them, by the time she was finished, Liam was just getting back to the apartment. He made his way over to the breakfast island where Riley stood pouring them two cups of tea, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind as he nuzzled his head into her shoulder. “good morning beautiful” he whispered as he placed a gentle kiss against her cheek.

“you’re all sweaty” she smirked

“mmm you love it” he chuckled causing her to giggle

“how was your workout?”

“it was great! nothing like some fresh air first thing in the morning”

“I missed you this morning” she whispered

“mm I missed you too, now…I can’t help but feel hungry when I smell whatever it is that’s cooking” Liam smirked

“you have a herb and tomato omelette”

“it smells amazing” he whispered

Once Riley had put out the food onto plates and Liam placed the cups of tea at their seats, they both sat down to eat.

“how are you feeling this morning? did you sleep well?”

“I couldn’t get comfortable all night; my legs were and still are killing me”

“you didn’t say anything last night, what happened?”

“okay don’t laugh…but it’s my palates and yoga…I’ve never felt so much pain in my life” she giggled

“from palates and yoga?” he smirked

“I knew you would laugh; I’m being serious, I think I over done it, I must have pulled a muscle or something”

“okay, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh…I just didn’t think you could pull a muscle doing something like that”

“you are so lucky I love you” she laughed to herself “have you ever done yoga or palates?”

“no, I haven’t” he replied as he took a sip of his tea

“then you wouldn’t understand how much muscle and strength actually goes into it.”

“it can’t be that bad surely”

“oh…you don’t think it’s that bad? I bet you couldn’t last a full week doing my fitness routine”

“a bet huh?” Liam smirk “I think if I have to do your routine you should do mine, and what happens if I successfully complete the challenge?”

“I will do whatever you want in the bedroom” as soon as she said it, he placed his fork down on the plate and looked at her with a smirk.

“anything?”

“Anything” she smirked “but…what if I succeed?”

“if you successfully complete the challenge, I will relieve you of your duties as queen for a whole week”

“a whole week? No meetings…no obligations?”

“nothing but free time”

“deal” they both reached out and shook hands.

“starting tomorrow” Riley smirked

“why tomorrow?”

“my legs hurt too much today” she laughed causing him to chuckle.

The next morning Riley awoke to Liam nudging her. “stopppp…what is it?” she groaned refusing to open her eyes.

“you need to get up” he mumbled

“no, leave me alone…crazy person” she mumbled as she pulled the duvet around her a little tighter

“it’s time for your morning workout”

“five more minutes…I need to sleep…if I get up, I’ll be cold”

“nu-uhh come on, time to get up”

“eugh fine” she groaned, half asleep, as she climbed out of bed, then headed for the bathroom.

Liam frowned as fifteen minutes passed and Riley didn’t return from the bathroom. He couldn’t hear water running so she wasn’t showering or using the tap…he couldn’t hear her moving around. He sighed as he pulled the duvet back and climbed out of bed

“fuck its cold” he groaned. He gently knocked on the bathroom door then awaited a reply…nothing.

“Riley?” he called…again…nothing he pulled the handle down and opened the door, calling her name as he did.

“rile-” he chuckled at the scene in front of him…Riley sitting on the toilet, with her elbow leaning on her leg, and her head cradled in her hand, hunched over, sleeping.

“Riley!” he called with a laugh as she jumped awake.

“Liam!!! Why are you so mean to meeee” she moaned as he walked away shutting the door behind him, then he headed back to bed.

Just a few minutes late Riley emerged from the bathroom with a deathly glare for Liam as she went to the closet to dress in her fitness wear.

“Liam?” she called

“shhh I’m sleeping” he grinned with his eyes tight shut.

“what time is it?” she asked

“six am” he smirked

“SIX OCLOCK ARE YOU CRAZY!! THAT’S CRAZY PEOPLE TIME!!! THE SUN ISNT EVEN UP YET!”

“we made a deal, you do my routine, I do yours”

“fuck you” she smirked as she walked towards the bed.

“you know you want to” he grinned “you could easily just give up now and we can stay in bed for a little bit…maybe do a little of the activity afore mentioned”

“as tempting as that is…I will not forfeit this bet…nope” she smirked as she leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips. “I Love you”

“I Love you too…now go…you’re already behind schedule” Liam smirked as he watched her walk out the room.

“enjoy” He chuckled as he drifted back to sleep. It was about forty five minutes after Riley had gone that Liam awoke again. He climbed from the bed and stretched then made his way to the window, it was just a few seconds later that he spotted his wife running through the garden. Liam made his way to the bathroom then back to the bedroom where he changed into his fitness wear. he eyed Riley's yoga mat in the corner of the wardrobe then shook his head. I don’t need a mat.

He moved the living room table back to give him some room, then he picked the television control up from the sofa. as soon as he pressed the tv to come on, Riley's newest yoga DVD came on the screen. As the DVD began, he stood himself in the middle of the space he had made.

“alright everyone today we’re going to start at the back of our mat, in our child’s pose.”

Liam watched as the woman on the screen kneeled onto her mat, so he copied her, kneeling on the floor.

“feet and knees together, interlace your fingers behind your back, then open up as you look up towards the sky, inhale…exhale. Take the chest all the way down forehead to the floor and your arms up as high as possible.”

“what on earth is this…” he mumbled as he attempted to copy her. “this isn’t exercise”

“slowly rise to kneeling position, keeping your fingers interlaced. Open the chest, arch the back, slightly look up…exhale and take it all the way back down to your child’s pose”

“this IS a child’s pose...” he huffed as he done as told.

The woman done the same routine four or five times before moving onto the next.

“arms reaching up, releasing the fingers, then sinking back over to child’s pose this time reaching forwards. Moving onto all fours, and up into downward facing dog.”

“I really hope no one comes in here right now” Liam chuckled as he moved into the position, he done as the woman told and he went from that pose to a plank pose then back again. He watched in amazement as the woman on the screen asked him to reach his right leg up to the sky and hold the three-legged dog pose. I don’t think I bend that way. he didn’t give up, he done as he was told. Giving out a huff when she asked him to bend his right knee and move his left elbow to the floor, then he was to start circling his leg.

It was about twenty minutes into the DVD when the woman asked him to move into the bird of paradise position. His face dropped when he seen what she wanted him to do

“what on earth is this! Do I look like a contortionist?”

As much as he didn’t want to…he done it anyway.

Just seconds later, the was a knock at the door then it opened.

“if that’s anyone but riley” he mumbled as he looked up expecting his wife he was met with Drake with a smirk on his face.

“what the fuck are you doing?”

“Drake!” as Liam went to move out of the pose, he struggled and fell forwards landing on the hard floor with the thump.

“eughh” he groaned as Drake laughed

“when did you start doing yoga?” he laughed

“I made a bet with Riley she has to do my workout routine and I have to do hers.”

“oh really? Well I hate to break it to you but, ive been in the stables since five this morning checking on the new foal, Riley’s sitting on the bench right under the window, eating a sandwich…every fifteen minutes, she gets up and runs past the window” Drake laughed

“that sneaky little…just wait.”

“what are you gonna do?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

After Drake left, Liam showered then dressed for his day before heading out to his meeting, Riley had done the same when she returned not long after he left.

by the time Riley had returned it was hitting seven o’clock, Liam was not long returned from his meeting as well. As she walked into the apartment, she couldn’t hear anyone at all.

“Liam? Are you home?”

“I’m in here” his voice carried through from the bathroom. She took off her shoes then followed the sound. Once she reached the bathroom she smirked. There he was lying in a bubble bath

“wat’cha doin?”

“I’m relaxing…you can come and join me if you’d like”

“mmm that sounds like a great idea” she quickly tied her hair up, then undressed before making her way over to the bathtub. She watched as Liam moved his legs slightly for her to climb in and sit between them, she didn’t fail to notice the grimace on his face as he moved his muscles.

“is everything okay?” she asked as she climbed in, sitting in front of him, leaning back onto his chest, letting the heat of the bath relax her muscles.

“yeah, everything’s fine” he smiled, as she turned and placed a kiss on his lips.

“how was your day?” she asked him

“oh, it was great… how were your meetings?”

“they were fine, I made the deal with the ambassador”

“that’s great” Liam whispered as he wrapped his arms around her torso.

A short while later, the two climbed out of the bath and headed for the bedroom to get ready for bed. As they walked out of the bathroom, Riley noticed a slight limp in Liam's walk.

“are you sure you’re okay?” she asked

“yes, I think I just slept funny or something”

Riley knew Liam was aching from the yoga, she also knew he would never admit it, so she thought she would coax it out of him. whilst she was in the walk-in closet finding what she was looking for, Liam was in the bedroom, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, looking through his chest of drawers.

“Oh, I forgot to ask, did you work out?” she asked with a smirk as she opened her lingerie drawer and pulled out a lace bodysuit.

“yeah, I did, I done it as soon as I got back.”

“and how did it go” she tried not to let him hear her chuckle

“it was alright”

“so, you didn’t have any issues at all?”

“nope…not at all”

“good” she smirked as she appeared at the closer door in just the bodysuit. “then you won’t mind if we…” Liam's eyes bulged out of his head when he seen her standing there. There was no way he was going to be able to “perform” up to standard with the pain he was in…he was aching in places he didn’t even know he had. riley grinned as she slowly made her way over to him. she wrapped her arms around his torso from behind, running her hands up and down his chest a she placed gentle kisses against his back, she moved her fingers to the top of the towel and undone the fold that was holding it in place, she smirked as she watched it fall to the ground. Riley's hands slowly made their way down towards his thighs, she watched in the mirror as he closed his eyes. Not my thighs, not my thighs…

“Riley…” he moaned.

She took his hand in hers, then guided him over to the end of the bed, she climbed on, and sat herself at the top of the bed waiting for him to follow. She watched as he stood at the end of the bed not moving. With a smirk she gently ran her hands down over the lace suit, she watched as she physically seen him gulp.

“well…are you going to join me?” she asked

“I…um…. I…no”

“no?” she asked exaggeratedly, before getting on all fours and crawling to the end of the bed, stopping in front of him, she moved to her knees, so they were at the same height.

“what do you mean…no?” she asked as she placed her arms over his shoulders, then moved forwards placing a passionate kiss on his lips, then moved to his neck, then his chest.

“Riley…I-”

“what is it, Liam? Tell your queen why you won’t make love to her…”

“dammit Riley I can’t!!!” he stepped back. Riley threw her head back in laughter.

“why?” she laughed

“because I’m aching all over…what the hell did you do to me!” he tried not to laugh.

“and why are you aching all over? Come on, I wanna hear you say it”

“because I hurt myself doing yoga!”

“AHHAA I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU, YOU WOULDN’T LAST A WEEK! admit it! my work out is just as hard as yours!”

“alright! Alright! I was wrong…I’m sorry…I will never doubt your methods of exercise again!”

“that’s right! You thought it would be easy because it just looks like silly poses but in actual fact…they are harder to do than your work out altogether.”

“I’m sorry” Liam smirked

Riley stood from the bed with a smile “I’ll be back in a moment, go lie down” Riley whispered

“where are you going?”

“to get you a hot press for your legs”

“you don’t have to do that”

“just lie down, sweetie, I’ll be back in minute”

That next morning, Riley was again woken to Liam giving her a dig.

“you’re crazy…leave me alone…let me sleep!”

“we made a deal”

“Liam…I already proved my routine is just as bad as yours why do we have to keep doing it”

“well if you don’t want your week free of any duties”

Riley groaned as she threw the duvet back and climbed out of the bed, she dressed then headed outside.

Liam waited ten minutes then climbed out of bed, he stood at the window and watched, drake’s theory was confirmed, dead on half past six Riley ran past the window, she looked up and seen Liam watching, she smiled and waved then carried on. Liam then made his way to the bathroom, taking the bucket from the under the sink, he filled it with cold water then carried it out to the bedroom window, He then made his way to the kitchenette where he opened the freezing taking out the huge bag of ice, he had lifted from the kitchen downstairs, the day before. He carried it to the bedroom, ripping open the top he emptied the contents into the bucket. He grinned as he opened the window, and leaned out, looking down, three floors below, there lay on the bench was Riley, laying back reading a book. Liam smirked as he lifted the bucket to the sill, holding it so it didn’t fall.

“you look a little warm after all that exercise sweetie! Let me help you cool down!!!!” he laughed as his wife looked up at him like a deer in headlights, he smirked as he turned the bucket upside down, emptying the contents over her, Laughing as she attempted to move but clearly wasn’t fast enough.

“LIAMMM!! THAT’S FUCKING FREEZING!!!”

Within five minutes, the apartment door flung open, revealing a soaked Riley, with Bastian standing not far behind her with a smirk.

“good morning, my love” Liam smiled as she glared at him.

“did you have a good workout?”

[rogerina-yee-haw]

“at least I’m one”

sd!gwilym lee x reader

chapter 5: “- the anticipated  sweetness”

[the goodbye] [the sadness & tenderness] [the broken rules and true affection] [the pain and eternal bliss]

summary: you and gwil met ten months ago; and he offered you to be his sugar baby almost immediately. you agreed at that exact moment, not knowing where it would get you.

warnings: smut, FLUFF!!, typos, grammar errors (as usual lmao)

a/n: Alice won’t show up in this chapter, sorry. it was too sweet to ruin it with her presence. next chapter is the last one!!!! sorry if this one is too bad!!!!

                                                    September.

“Five hundred pounds?” you sighed as you looked at the price. “Even my life costs less than this!”

This was a chic Versace dress you found at that one posh shop. You didn’t even know how you got there – you were just wandering across the mall; the next thing you knew – you were looking at the pretty but very expensive pieces of fabric.

You could afford this dress only if you worked with no sleep, days off and rest. Shit, you could afford a plain tee-shirt in this shop if you worked yourself to death for six months!

“Guess I’ll die as a poor bitch”, you thought to yourself. You still couldn’t stop looking at this dress; it was everything you ever looked in an evening gown; it was long with a side slit – just to expose your leg a bit; the long sleeves would cover your arms, and the lack of fabric on the back of the dress would give everyone a hell of impression. “It wouldn’t fit me perfectly; must lose weight before even thinking about buying it”.

“I can’t agree with that”.

You flinched at a sudden violation of your thinking process; you already wanted to step away and ignore the man who interrupted your thoughts when you looked at him.

And – oh Lord – he was gorgeous.

Tall, handsome as the Devil himself, in a visibly expensive suit and a smug grin on his face – this man was everything you’ve ever wanted but never had. You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but only gasped – he was too beautiful and rich for you to even try. “Mum was right when she said my shyness will be the death of me”.

“What to be shy about?” he raised his eyebrows; you frowned before you realized.

“Did I just say that out loud?” you quavered; he let out a laugh and looked at you again.

“I’m pretty sure you did; I wouldn’t be speaking to you if I didn’t hear you talking to yourself”.

You covered your face with your hands; you had never felt that ashamed of yourself. You were talking to yourself in a posh shop and this handsome man saw and heard you doing it? “I’m a disaster”, you mumbled. “Sorry you had to witness that”, you said, still covering your face.

“It’s alright. I talk to myself too occasionally”.

You finally were able to raise your head; so you looked at him suspiciously. Really? This fucking Adonis? Talking to himself sometimes? “That is hardly believable”.

“You have quite an opinion of me for the person whom I’ve just met”. Judging by the smile on his face you realized that you – again – expressed your thoughts about him being the Adonis out loud.

You looked down and gripped your hands into you handbag. “I guess being an embarrassment is my life goal”. You couldn’t bear looking at him; finally, you had the chance to hit it off with a handsome dude when you successfully blew it.

Well, you thought you blew it.

“Don’t apologize; it wasn’t embarrassing at all”.

You furrowed your brows and glanced at him. “Really? Not at all?”

He grinned and looked back at you. “Maybe a bit, but it was alright”.

You rolled your eyes at his words; this conversation wasn’t going anywhere further. At least, not with you. That blonde with a short red dress on could certainly get it with this pretty dude. Not you, in your high-waisted jeans and old hoodie with the Avengers logo on it. You didn’t even want to get started on your mum’s sneakers you had been wearing for a couple of years now.

You mum, by the way, always said that your insecurity was keeping you from all the good things in life. And even now, when this mysterious man was certainly interested in you – you didn’t see it. You preferred to drown in your doubt and insecurity. It was easier for you to shield yourself from the world.

“I’m Gwilym, by the way”.

You looked at his hand that he reached out for you; you were attentively examining his palm and fingers. “You know what they say about men with big hands”, Billy’s was echoing in your head, as you subconsciously bit you lip. Gwil suddenly felt really tight in his pants.

“I assume you also have a name”. You were out of your thinking process once again; you looked at him quickly.

“Y/N”, you responded softly as you shook his hand. You felt electricity travelling through your body; your ears were burning suddenly and your palms were sweating. What the fuck was that? “Really nice to meet you”.

He nodded, silently agreeing with you; “You know what they say about men with big hands…”

You rolled your eyes one more time, trying to make this fucker’s voice inside your head shut up. You were so invested in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice how lustfully Gwilym looked at you. He wanted to pull you to the closest dressing room and fuck the hell out of you. You were so incredibly beautiful and hot – and Gwil really had to restrain himself from taking you right then and there. Right in the middle of that shop, maybe.

“Do you mind going to dinner with me tonight?”

His voice wasn’t asking, it was demanding. You suddenly felt weak in your knees under his gaze; you could have melted as the snow under the sun just 'cause this man was looking at you like that. And that reminded you that you hadn’t been with a guy for a while.

“No, I don’t. I don’t mind at all”.

“Good”. He looked as if that was exactly what he expected to hear. “D’you mind giving me your address?”

Oh, you didn’t mind. You also didn’t mind if he would just fuck you in the nearest restroom.

But you were too shy to suggest such the idea.

“Will eight o’clock be alright?”

“Sure”.

You refused when he suggested driving you home; you lied about having to meet your friend so that you wouldn’t spend some alone time with him. “Gwilym”, you thought while waiting for the bus. “Such a pretty name”.

                                     ╰╮✾╭╯✯╰╮✾╭╯

You wake up because you dream is suddenly over – but not like there was anything more of interest during your first date. Just pure primal attraction that ended up with you being fingered by Gwilym in the elevator. It was pretty crazy for you as you have never been a person who would hook up on the first date, but Gwil turned you on so much that you couldn’t handle it. Now you’re happy all of it happened. Now you’re with the man of your dreams.

The sun shines through the curtains of the hotel room window, and you wince because of its brightness. You stretch a bit, trying to wake yourself up, and rub the sleep from your eyes.

“You look like an angel”.

Your gaze falls on Gwil; he leans to the bedroom doorway, a soft smile on his lips. You grin back at him and sit up on the bed, covering your bare chest with the blanket. “You look good too”, you say, observing him. He’s already in a suit, just without a jacket; his hands are in his pockets and he looks so damn hot. “Are you leaving?”

He shakes his head. “Just came back”. Gwil slowly makes his way to the bed and crawls right next to you. “It’s midday already, baby”, he says, reaching to your forehead and kissing it. “We’ve got exactly twenty-four hours before going home”.

“Have you decided what you’re gonna do?” you put your hand on his cheek and he leans into your touch. “That’s a good opportunity, you know”, Gwil chuckles and then sighs deeply.

“A good opportunity but a hard decision to make”, he mutters and kisses you delicately. “I might lose everything if I do it”, his voice is quiet and he looks at you, a glimpse of fear and hopelessness in his eyes. You cup his cheeks and make him look you directly in the eyes.

“Is money worth staying on the job that you hate? Is it worth wasting your time on the place where the boss is a total arsehole to you?” he shakes his head. “Then quit it. Take Ryan and Jack’s offer”.

“I won’t be a vice-president in their company”, he says, “I won’t have this much money if I agree. This is not what you signed-”.

“I don’t care”, you whisper and press your forehead to his. “I’m not with you because you’re rich. Sure, I love expensive gifts”, you both chuckle, “but I can live without them as long as I’m with you. I want you to be happy, Gwil”, you say breathlessly as his hands tighten their grip in your waist, “and I know this new job will make you happy. You won’t hate your boss, at least”, you add and he smiles, leaning closer to you, so that your foreheads are pressed together.

“Bosses, to be correct’, he replies; Gwil leaves a trail of kisses on your jaw. “And I’ve been hating them since we met”, you smile. “Don’t think it’s a good idea to work on my friends who ruined my deal on purpose”.

“Baby, they did it to get you here”, you answer, “to talk to you without your boss interrupting”.

“Yeah, this old bastard left the same day that we arrived on”, he mutters, sucking a hickey into your neck, “doesn’t know shit about his own fucking company”, you let out a gasp, when Gwil’s lips get to that sweet spot, right under your earlobe. You squeeze his shoulders lightly, and the blanket falls from your chest, exposing your breasts. “Acts like he’s the smartest”, Gwil covers your neck with love bites, “when in reality he’s too stupid to even make himself a cup of tea”.

“I guess talking about your boss turns you on”, you swallow hard and Gwilym pulls off of your neck and looks at you in confusion. “You got quite hard while talking about him”, you raise your eyebrow and palm him through his pants. He moans at the sensation of your touch. “Wish I could turn you on so quickly as old Smithers does…” you sigh dramatically and Gwil rolls his eyes, smiling at you.

“You little minx”, his lips are on yours the second he lays you down, flat on the bed, so he’s hovering over you. His covered bulge rubs your thigh and you moan into the kiss, and it gives Gwilym a sign to move further. His left hand trails down your body, paying special attention to your boobs, while the right one is on your face, cupping your cheek. Finally, his fingers rub your clit slowly and you whimper, when he does that. He kisses you fiercely and you try to unbutton his shirt when he puts one finger inside you.

“No”, you pull away, “don’t want your fingers. Want you”.

“Love, we’ve run out of condoms”, he caresses your face. You don’t give him the verbal answer immediately; instead, you unbutton his shirt and help take it off of him, and pull him into a heated kiss. It’s open-mouthed, with moans spilling from both of you, it’s demanding, as your hands wander across his torso, it’s bruising, ‘cause you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth.

“I want you to fuck me raw”, you whisper looking deeply into his eyes.

His eyes are widened the second these words leave your mouth. “You’re not on the pill”, he states as if you didn’t know this. You swallow and kiss him again, less roughly now. 

“Just pull out”, you say, “or is it too hard for you?” your cocky smile makes him go absolutely insane. His eyes sparkle with something you can’t quite read, something that makes you grow even wetter. 

He makes a move closer to your face like he’s going to kiss your lips and when you close your eyes, he suddenly pepper your neck with kisses. He sucks on your collarbone profoundly, leaving marks all over it.

“Mine”, he mumbles, biting on the skin between your breasts softly, “all mine”. 

You mewl in response, tugging on his hair and shutting your eyes in anticipation.

As Gwilym kisses all over your boobs, sucking on your nipples and touching just the way you like it, he notices your closed eyes and messy state; he smirks and moves back to your lips; his kiss is tender but searing. “Want you to look at me”, he rubs your clit slowly, almost lazily, making you squirm and whine. “Want to see your pretty eyes as I fuck you”. 

You help him unbuckle his pants, and when he’s fully naked, in all his glory in front of you, you almost howl. You can’t quite believe you’re going to spend your life with him – and love, joy, lust, and desire overcome you. You sit down on the bed, so that his cock is right in front of your face, and you pump him slowly, maintaining eye contact with Gwil all this time. His dominating side seems to fade away, when you put your mouth on the tip, passing your tongue over the slit. And when you look at him innocently, a grin appears on your face. He looks so fucking hot like this: lips parted, breath hitched, eyes filled with lust, a hand on your cheek. While keeping the eye contact, as you’re following his demand, you take all of him in your mouth. Gwil gasps and his hand is on your head, tugging on your hair slightly. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good”, he gasps, “but…”, your head starts bobbing up and down his cock, and he almost loses it. “Don’t want your mouth”, he pants, trying to catch his breath, “want you”.

You pull him out of your mouth with a loud pop, and he bends down to you, kissing you lusciously. He lifts you up and turns you over without any effort. “On your hands and knees, baby”, you obey happily and wiggle your bum for him. Gwil chuckles and smacks your ass, making you drop your head in between your arms. He lines himself at your entrance and teases you by sliding the tip of his dick up and down your slick folds. “You’re so wet, love”, he mumbles, rubbing your back gently. 

“All for you”, you’re heavy breathing – you need more. And he knows it. So he gives it to you.

Gwil slides into you effortlessly and stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust. When you tell him to move, he does it deliberately and leisurely, making the burning ache between your legs even hotter.

“Gwil, baby”, you turn your head just to look into his eyes, “harder, please”.

He stops moving completely. “You sure?” he always asks. Always keeping you comfortable. 

“Yeah”, you nod. You want to add, “Just destroy my fucking vagina”, but you decide to keep it to yourself. For now, at least. 

He pulls out of you only to slam back with all his length. You scream from pleasure and your legs are already wobbly and you know – a couple of more thrusts like this and you’re a goner. You don’t know where this ability to cum so quickly comes from. Gwil feels you clenching around him, and slows down a bit, silently understanding your desire to last a bit longer. 

“So tight, baby”, he whispers, smacking your butt and then giving your ass cheek a squeeze. He touches your shoulder and makes you get up so that your back is leaning against his chest. Huge mirror right in front of you gives the two of you the perfect opportunity to look, to watch each other in the state of pleasure. 

“Look how pretty you are”, he wraps his hand around your neck lightly, “look at you being wrecked by my cock. So beautiful, baby”. And you’re wrecked – with sweaty skin, messy hair and broken moans coming out of your mouth. 

Gwilym takes his hand off of your neck and puts it on your stomach, helping you move. His other hand massages your boob, making your head fall onto his shoulder. The sounds you’re making are no longer humanlike – but words of love are entangled along with them. You both kept your feelings deep inside for too long for them not to be said to each other almost all the time. 

You are the first to come, and Gwil holds you tightly and fucks you through your orgasm. He’s not far behind you and he comes rather fast, biting on your shoulder and grunting your name. 

You come back from your high and catch a glimpse of you two in the mirror. Gwil's face is buried in your neck, kissing and sucking on it. You intertwine your fingers with his and kiss his palm softly. The hotel room smells like sex, sweat, and love. And you know you’ll enjoy it for the rest of your life.

“I love you so much”, he mumbles while kissing all over your shoulders. You hum in response; when Gwil pulls out, you whine at the feeling of emptiness. He chuckles and walks to the bathroom - he comes back a couple of minutes later, with a wet towel to clean up the mess he’s made on our ass. You smile, feeling his touch; it never ceases to amaze you how much influence he has upon you.

“There you go”, he taps your butt lightly and then wraps his arms around your waist. You lean to him, pressing your back to his chest, and let your head fall onto his shoulder. You’ve never felt more comfortable and safe in your life, ever. It’s like you’re in your personal heaven, and you don’t want to leave his warm embrace.

“That’s funny”, he mumbles.

“What?”

“You tell me to leave the job that I hate, and I obey immediately”, Gwilym kisses the corner of your mouth, making you giggle. “But when I was telling you to quit that pathetic job of yours, you wouldn’t ever listen to me”.

“Well, I quitted it, eventually”, you raise your head and turn slightly to look him in the eyes. Gwil lets out an airy chuckle, through his nose, and shakes his head.

“And I’m really happy about it”, you smile softly.

“Of course you would be. I did it to come to Dublin with you”.

“Sounds like you’re regretting it now”.

You shrug your shoulders. “I could have been brain-fucked be Damian by now instead of just being with you. Dunno what’s better”, Gwil smiles and kisses you tenderly. Your neck gets numb, and you turn your whole body, your chest pressing to Gwil’s. The kiss is needy and sweet, with hands on cheeks, soft laughs and noses rubbing together. Every moment with Gwil is so intimate and soulful that you keep wondering how you could ever live without him. How did it happen that only ten months ago you met the love of your life?

“How is it possible”, Gwil says breathlessly in between kisses, “that I”, you kiss him heatedly again, “even had a life before you?”

You look into his eyes and smile sheepishly. “You’re cute, Gwilym Lee”, you put your hands around his neck. He raises his brows and grins back at you, his hands finding their way around your waist and they rest just above your ass.

“Oh, really?”

“Really”.

He looks at you for a while before speaking again. “Wanna meet my parents tomorrow?”

You nod eagerly. “Will Heather be there?”

Gwil rolls his eyes. “I won’t let my sister steal you from me”.

“Nothing can take me away from you, baby”, you peck his lips, “trust me”.

“Will you wear that dress?”

The look in his eyes is hopeful, he’s almost begging. You chuckle and press yourself even closer to him. “That dress means a lot to me, y’know. We met through it”.

“I remember something like that”.

You sigh and roll your eyes, being suddenly irritated with his remark. “Hope you don’t ruin it by the end of the night”.

Gwil’s eyes sparkle and he licks his lips. “Can’t promise you this, love”, he whispers before kissing you one more time.

________________________________________________________________

I would really love to see some feedback because I feel like this chapter is stupid and useless pls tell me what you think

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[snipehuntpotatosack]

100 bits of song lyrics (to kill time)

1 Alleluia, Alleluia

2 Graceless lady, you know who I am

3 For a golden girl knows when he kissed her... It’s the kiss of DEATH from Mr.

4 Tail toddle, tail toddle, Tammy gart my tail toddle,

5 Corporal Clegg received his medal in a dream, from his majesty the queen

6. La donna e mobile, quai piuma al viento

7 And a cold perspiration bespangled his brow...O willow, tit willow, tit willow

8 Someone left the cake out in the rain

9 Konichiwa Bitches

10 Underneath that tree, there’s just gonna be you and me

11 Pres des remparts de Seville, chez mon ami Lillas Pastia 

12 By the living God that made you, you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din

13 Deutschland, Deutschland uber alles

14 Fire eating boys - rising toys of the sun - energy dies without body warm - icicles ruin your gun

15 Spread your blue wings and I’ll shed my blue tears.

16. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the crawl all over your ears and mouth, aah-oooo. aaah-oooo.

17 Kumbaya, my Lord, Kumbaya

18 Where Indian fights are colorful sights and nobody takes a lickin’ - where paleface and redskin both turn chicken

19 So let them begin the Beguine, let it play...

20 Expert texpert choking smokers don’t you think the joker laughs at you

21 you haven’t an arm and you haven’t a leg, you’re an eyeless boneless chickenless egg....and you have to be put with a bowl to beg

22 And yet he’s rollin’ down the mountain goin’ fast, fast, fast

23 Pourquoi ont-ils tue Jaures?

24 Shepherds, why this jubilee?

25 I’m a ramblin’ wreck from Georgia Tech and a heck of an engineer

26 Keep on chooglin’, chooglin’, chooglin’ chooglin’ chooglin’

27 Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier

28 by pushing down this special key it plays a little melody

29 O I could hide neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings.....the six oclock alarm would never ring....

30 Cee Aich Eye Cee Kay Eee En, that spells Chicken

31 we gonna chant down Babylon one more time. Chant down Babylon one more time

32 Leo said to Cleo, I think I’m goin’ mad…..

33 The Dutchess of Kircaldy always smiling and arriving late for tea

34 Stand off from me, you bloody butchers

35 look down that road far as I can see….gang o’ women, you know followin’ me

36 I got no kick against modern jazz, unless they try to play it too darn fast

37 Mary Margaret Luke and John all them prophets dead and gone

38 Don’t cross the street in the middle in the middle in the middle in the middle in the middle

39 Oche Chornya, Oche Krasnya,

40 Now she got him on the sofa where he’d gone to take a snooze, and I hope he went to heaven cause he wasn’t wearing shoes

41 Well he never heard the news on the radio, he was deep in the Glade so he’ll never know – his runnin’ and hidin’ didn’t make much sense for the jury had ruled it was self-defense

42 We will kill the old red rooster when she comes, when she comes.

43. You been lyin’, when you shoulda been truthin’

44 Put silver wings….on my son’s chest….make him one…..of America’s best…..

45 I can hear Atlantis full of  cheer……………………

Atlantis Full Of Cheer…………………………………..

46 She’s got Elgin Movements from her head down to her toes….breaks in on a dollar now most anywhere she goes…she’s got E-L-G-I-N M-O-V-E-M-E-N-T-S

47 And softly she came nigh him, and all she said, as there she came, “young man, I think – “

48 I’m beginning to hear voices, and there’s no one around

49 So we all came through the wall; no one uses doors anymore; we’d all love to be that small; you can’t fit, if you’re fat, and that’s all

50 God save King Pendragon,

    May his reign long drag on,

    God save our King.

51 Ciribiribin! Ciribiribin !!

52 We’ll curse the smella citronella, even as we dream

53 You think you’ve flown before, but you ain’t left the grooouuund

54 and you know there’s talk goin’ round town that Papa had three outside children, and                Another Wife………………and That ain’t right….

55 aw lean on me man cause you can’t afford the ticket

56 shebop, shebop awebop, ibop, ubop atheybop, hebop, mebop atheebop

57 The wall was too high as you can see, and the worms ate into his brain.

58 Wendy Michael John Tinkerbell Come On Hurry up and follow me for soon I will be gone

59 See right through me…walk right by me….and never know I’m there….Never….Even…..Knoowwwwww…………………

60 And even though my brain is even smaller than my penius I am the very model of a very stable genius!

61 Agios o Theos, Agios ischyros, Agios athanatos, eleison imas

62 Life is what you do, while you’re waiting to die

63 John Brown’s body lies a moldering in the grave

64 Ah, you don't even know That you're entering your hell As you leave my cemetery And you think you're doing well With that one who's at your side You're as proud as you can be Ah, she's going to make you cry But not the way you cried for me Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

65 I said not a word tho it meant my life I had been in the arms of my best friend’s wife

66 Down in some lonesome valley, hangin’ from a white oak tree

67 Mother Earth will swallow you, lay you in the ground.

68 I’m not a drowning man! And I’m not a burning building!

69 Those alive will meet the prophets

     Those at peace shall see their wake.

70 A bullet had found him / his blood ran as he cried / no money could save him / so he lay down and he died

71 I’m still, I have no life / to wait on boys and men / what’s mine, was yours, is dead / I take my leave of mortal flesh

72 Why dontya be the first one on your block to have your boy come home in a box!

73 That’s the last hour to think anymore – jelly and juice and bubbles, bubbles on the floor

74 Happy Birthday to You

75 They’ll stone you when you’re set down in your grave

76 But come ye back when summer’s in the meadow

77 And they fam, and they fam, back over the dam

78 Tell me Y oh Y did Constantinople get the works?

79 Do you love me? (do you love me) Do You Love Me? (do you love me)

80 a Puzzlement!!!

81 Wherever I have gone, wherever I have gone, the blues run the game

82 So I’ll jug some water bake some flour

     Store some salt and wait the hour

83 It’s a Holy Ghost building, it’s a Holy Ghost building

84 Yankee Doodle came to terms, writing Martin Buber,

     Stuck a Fuhrer in her back and called it Schicklgruber.

85 O Sacred Head surrounded, by crown of Bleeding Thorns

86 It was the Monster Mash (they did the Monster Mash) It was a graveyard smash

87 Dove nested towers, the hour was Strike the street quicksilver moon

88 But that was once upon a time and very long ago

89 I have left my book, I have left my room, for I heard you singing through the gloom

90 Stella splendens in monte ut solis radium miraculis serrato exaudi populum

91 There’s gotta be a song left to sing, cause everybody can’t have thought of everything

92 I will always love you - - hands alike – magnet and iron, the souls

93 Yes I received your letter yesterday, about the time the doorknob broke

94 Well I’m near the end and I just ain’t got the time

     And I’m wasted and I can’t find my way home

95 Sad, deserted shore your fickle friends are leaving

     Ah, but then you know it’s time for them to go

96 She makes the sign of the teaspoon he makes the sign of the wave

     The poor boy changes clothes and puts on aftershave, to compensate for his

     Ordinary shoes

97 Observe his flame that placid dame the moon’s celestial highness

    There’s not a trace upon her face of diffidence or shyness

98 As I lay there with a flower in my hair and my cheeks aflush

    It was a blackberry blossom from the blackberry bush.

99 Oh it’s my heart

    Is that-a-way

   Just as welcome, boys

   As the flowers in May

100 We sleep in the morning

       We dream of a ship that sails away

       A thousand miles away.

   Trad./Jagger/Newley, Bricusse/Trad./Waters/Piave/Gilbert/Webb/Robyn/Dylan/Halevy, Meilhac/Kipling/Von Fallersleben/Slick/Parton/Trad./Trad./Taylor, Lava/ Porter/ Lennon/Trad./Dawson/Brel/Chadwick/Trad./Fogerty/Blackburn/Kraftwerk/Stewart/

John Hurt/Marley/Dylan/Lennon/Trad,/McDowell/Berry/Trad./Mizzy/Milman/Chad Mitchell Trio/Harlan Howard/Trad./Hazlewood/Sadler/Hendrix/Robert Johnson /Trad./

Dylan/Slick/T.H. White/Pestalozza/Hart/Jobim/Strong, Whitfield/Bowie/Lauper/Waters/ Comden & Green/Ebb/Randy Rainbow/Trad./Ebb/Trad./Brel/Wilkin, Dill/Whitter,

Grayson/Young/Byrne/Reid/Lake/Sinfield/Country Joe/Slick/Mildred and Patty Hill/

Dylan/Weatherly/Dowell/Nat, Kennedy/Berry Gordy/Hammerstein/Jackson Franck/

Lane, Marriott/Bill Monroe/Firesign Theater/Baker/Pickett/Wilson, Parks/Adams/Joyce/

Trad./Welch/Mitchell/Dylan/Winwood/Denny/Simon/Gilbert/Maybelle Carter/

John Hurt/Eno

[travelinformation0-blog]

300-070 tutorial 210-060 questions and answers pdf 200-105 pdf 300-206 exam topics

New Post has been published on https://www.travel-guides-and-books.com/300-070-tutorial-210-060-questions-and-answers-pdf-200-105-pdf-300-206-exam-topics/

300-070 tutorial 210-060 questions and answers pdf 200-105 pdf 300-206 exam topics

He stood there for a long time. Tami Joan and John desperately retreated until they reached the other side of the door, holding two sweaty bodies tightly together. The drivers hand bent into the 200-105 pdf shape 300-070 tutorial of a cup, blocking the lights shone on the street light, looked at 300-070 tutorial 210-060 questions and answers pdf them more carefully. Suddenly, a loud 300-070 tutorial noise echoed in the air. Tameron could not help but constricted a while, and John made a short, screaming scream. Behind the driver, the air in the distance was filled with bright red and blue flame stripes instantly. Then 300-070 tutorial again is a few roar and 200-105 pdf scream. The driver turns and looks up, just to see a huge, orange-red cobweb over the city. It was a fireworks, and Tamie remembered 210-060 questions and answers pdf 200-105 pdf the news read in the newspaper. It is a gift from the host and the Secretary-General of the United Nations to the delegates 300-070 tutorial attending the conference and welcomes them to this 210-060 questions and answers pdf great city on Earth. The driver 300-206 exam topics turned toward the 210-060 questions and answers pdf 210-060 questions and answers pdf taxi again. Pat soon, he opened the door lock, slowly opened 210-060 questions and answers pdf the door. 2 As usual, the informant 210-060 questions and answers pdf did not leave a name. Therefore, there is no other way to pour back into the past to understand what the reporter said is a piece of open space. The headquarters radio said He said it was on the 37th Street near Eleventh Street. Those at the Notification Center never figured out where the exact location of the murder was. Although it is nine oclock in the morning, it has made people sweat more than hot. 300-070 tutorial Emilia 210-060 questions and answers pdf Shakes lay aside a tall grass thatch. She 300-070 tutorial is conducting 300-070 tutorial a search of light – a jargon of crime scene investigators – searching for suspicious objects with an S-shaped route. Nothing at all She looked down at the 300-206 exam topics intercom on the dark blue uniform shirt. Patrolman 5885 calls headquarters without any notice. Do you have any further news The dispatcher replied in a bumpy noise 5885, there is no more information about the scene of the crime at the moment, but one thing The informant 200-105 pdf said he 300-206 exam topics hoped the victim was dead. Please say it again, headquarters. The complainant said 210-060 questions and answers pdf he hoped the victim was already dead. He said it would be best if so. Finished. Hopefully the victim Dead Shakes struggled across a broken barbed wire and began searching for another piece of open space. Still not found. She wants to leave. Just call 10-90, report that without any discovery, you can return to the Si Si area, it is her daily 300-206 exam topics patrol area. Her knees hurt and she felt as if 300-206 exam topics she had been roasted on 300-206 exam topics a terrible August day. She just wanted to slip to the Port Authority and get stuck with the Little Furrier there and come 300-206 exam topics back to a large can of Arizona iced tea. Then, at eleven thirty – just two hours now – she was able to clear the drawers in the south section of Midtown and go to the lower town for training. But she finally did not 210-060 questions and answers pdf 300-070 tutorial do this. She can not leave this briefing without answering the phone call. As she continued to move on, she walked along the hot sidewalk through the path between the two abandoned apartments and into another covered, planted area. She slid her slender forefinger down into her flat-top hat and scratched it with irresistible restraints through layers of long, red hair on her head. In order to 300-206 exam topics scratch more scalp, she simply faded her cap side, while crazy scratch. Sweat streaming down her forehead, itchy, so she fiercely blew a few brows.

Further report. Criminal case found near 300-070 tutorial railroad between 38th and 11th Street. Homicide. Completed. Criminal police, forensics, ambulance and emergency medical Finished. Received, 5885. Caught the suspect yet Finished. No suspects found. 5885, finished. Shakes looked 300-070 tutorial at the finger, that root was cut off the 200-105 pdf bones exposed bones finger. She looked at the glittering diamond ring, those eyes, and that twisted mouth Europe, that horrible mouth. Thriller spread throughout her body. Emilia Shakes swimming in the water snake river during the summer camp, and absolutely did not hesitate to jumped from the 100-foot 300-206 exam topics bridge, but as long as she thought of a hush think of Was tied into a ball, could not move, immediately fell into the feeling of panic like an electric shock. Because of this, Shakes walked so fast and was 300-070 tutorial so crazy when driving. As long as you move, 200-105 pdf they can not catch you She heard a voice and quickly looked up. A rumbling 200-105 pdf sound came from far and louder and louder. Few pieces of shredded paper are raised by the wind and fly along the rails. Dust circling around her, like an angry ghost. Then there was a deep whine Emiliano Shakespear, a 300-206 exam topics five-foot-nine patrolman, found himself facing 210-060 questions and answers pdf the locomotive of a 31-ton American-American company. The 300-206 exam topics red, white, blue-faced 210-060 questions and answers pdf steel behemoth is approaching her at ten 210-060 questions and answers pdf miles an hour. Stop Stop She shouted. The train driver ignored her. Shakes ran to the railway, standing in the middle of the rails, swinging his legs waving his arm, signaling the driver to stop moving forward. 300-070 tutorial With a long and harsh brakes, the locomotive stopped. Driver head out of the window. You can not open here, she said to him. He asked her what it meant. She thought, 200-105 pdf he looked so young, actually driving such a large locomotive. Here is a crime scene, 300-070 tutorial please turn off the engine. Miss, I did not see any crime. But Shakes did 200-105 pdf not have time to listen to him long-winded. She was looking up at a gap in the barbed wire fence to the west of the viaduct. Not far from above is Eleven Street. One way of trying to 200-105 pdf bring a victim here is to find that there is a way 300-206 exam topics to stop the car at Eleven Street and drag the victim across the narrow path to the edge of the cliff. If you park your car on the 37th Street in the 210-060 questions and answers pdf horizontal direction, he may 200-105 pdf be seen by people 300-070 tutorial in the windows of 20 apartments. The train, sir, just stop it here. 210-060 questions and answers pdf I 300-206 exam topics can not park the train here. Turn off the engine. In this case we can not turn off the train 200-105 pdf engine and it must be running. You call the dispatch or someone else to stop the train to Nankai. We can not do that. Get 210-060 questions and answers pdf it right, sir, Ive noticed the number of your car The car Youd better do it right away Shakes roared. What do you want, Miss, give me a ticket But Emilio Shakus climbed back up the steep hill again. Her poor knuckles crunched, her lips covered 300-206 exam topics in lime, 200-105 pdf dirt, and her own sweat. She drilled through the gap she had found on the tracks and turned around to 200-105 pdf study the Javets Convention Center across 11th Avenue and across the 200-105 pdf street. The convention center is full 300-206 exam topics of people today – there 200-105 pdf are participants and journalists. A huge banner reads Welcome United Nations Representative. Earlier in the morning, however, there was still no one on the street, and the murderer could easily find a parking space in the street, before the people unwittingly moved the victim to the tracks. Shakespeare strode to Eleventh Street and 300-070 tutorial observed the 300-206 exam topics six-lane main road, which is now full of traffic. Let it go She burst into the car sea, calmly cut off traffic on the north lane. Several drivers tried hard to force her to issue two tickets in a row. In the end, they dragged a few rubbish bins to the center of the road as roadblocks to ensure that these good citizens abided by the rules.

[trendingnewsb]

The shorter your sleep, the shorter your life: the new sleep science

Leading neuroscientist Matthew Walker on why sleep deprivation is increasing our risk of cancer, heart attack and Alzheimers and what you can do about it

Matthew Walker has learned to dread the question What do you do? At parties, it signals the end of his evening; thereafter, his new acquaintance will inevitably cling to him like ivy. On an aeroplane, it usually means that while everyone else watches movies or reads a thriller, he will find himself running an hours-long salon for the benefit of passengers and crew alike. Ive begun to lie, he says. Seriously. I just tell people Im a dolphin trainer. Its better for everyone.

Walker is a sleep scientist. To be specific, he is the director of the Center for Human Sleep Science at the University of California, Berkeley, a research institute whose goal possibly unachievable is to understand everything about sleeps impact on us, from birth to death, in sickness and health. No wonder, then, that people long for his counsel. As the line between work and leisure grows ever more blurred, rare is the person who doesnt worry about their sleep. But even as we contemplate the shadows beneath our eyes, most of us dont know the half of it and perhaps this is the real reason he has stopped telling strangers how he makes his living. When Walker talks about sleep he cant, in all conscience, limit himself to whispering comforting nothings about camomile tea and warm baths. Its his conviction that we are in the midst of a catastrophic sleep-loss epidemic, the consequences of which are far graver than any of us could imagine. This situation, he believes, is only likely to change if government gets involved.

Walker has spent the last four and a half years writing Why We Sleep, a complex but urgent book that examines the effects of this epidemic close up, the idea being that once people know of the powerful links between sleep loss and, among other things, Alzheimers disease, cancer, diabetes, obesity and poor mental health, they will try harder to get the recommended eight hours a night (sleep deprivation, amazing as this may sound to Donald Trump types, constitutes anything less than seven hours). But, in the end, the individual can achieve only so much. Walker wants major institutions and law-makers to take up his ideas, too. No aspect of our biology is left unscathed by sleep deprivation, he says. It sinks down into every possible nook and cranny. And yet no one is doing anything about it. Things have to change: in the workplace and our communities, our homes and families. But when did you ever see an NHS poster urging sleep on people? When did a doctor prescribe, not sleeping pills, but sleep itself? It needs to be prioritised, even incentivised. Sleep loss costs the UK economy over 30bn a year in lost revenue, or 2% of GDP. I could double the NHS budget if only they would institute policies to mandate or powerfully encourage sleep.

Why, exactly, are we so sleep-deprived? What has happened over the course of the last 75 years? In 1942, less than 8% of the population was trying to survive on six hours or less sleep a night; in 2017, almost one in two people is. The reasons are seemingly obvious. First, we electrified the night, Walker says. Light is a profound degrader of our sleep. Second, there is the issue of work: not only the porous borders between when you start and finish, but longer commuter times, too. No one wants to give up time with their family or entertainment, so they give up sleep instead. And anxiety plays a part. Were a lonelier, more depressed society. Alcohol and caffeine are more widely available. All these are the enemies of sleep.

But Walker believes, too, that in the developed world sleep is strongly associated with weakness, even shame. We have stigmatised sleep with the label of laziness. We want to seem busy, and one way we express that is by proclaiming how little sleep were getting. Its a badge of honour. When I give lectures, people will wait behind until there is no one around and then tell me quietly: I seem to be one of those people who need eight or nine hours sleep. Its embarrassing to say it in public. They would rather wait 45 minutes for the confessional. Theyre convinced that theyre abnormal, and why wouldnt they be? We chastise people for sleeping what are, after all, only sufficient amounts. We think of them as slothful. No one would look at an infant baby asleep, and say What a lazy baby! We know sleeping is non-negotiable for a baby. But that notion is quickly abandoned [as we grow up]. Humans are the only species that deliberately deprive themselves of sleep for no apparent reason. In case youre wondering, the number of people who can survive on five hours of sleep or less without any impairment, expressed as a percent of the population and rounded to a whole number, is zero.

The world of sleep science is still relatively small. But it is growing exponentially, thanks both to demand (the multifarious and growing pressures caused by the epidemic) and to new technology (such as electrical and magnetic brain stimulators), which enables researchers to have what Walker describes as VIP access to the sleeping brain. Walker, who is 44 and was born in Liverpool, has been in the field for more than 20 years, having published his first research paper at the age of just 21. I would love to tell you that I was fascinated by conscious states from childhood, he says. But in truth, it was accidental. He started out studying for a medical degree in Nottingham. But having discovered that doctoring wasnt for him he was more enthralled by questions than by answers he switched to neuroscience, and after graduation, began a PhD in neurophysiology supported by the Medical Research Council. It was while working on this that he stumbled into the realm of sleep.

Matthew Walker photographed in his sleep lab. Photograph: Saroyan Humphrey for the Observer

I was looking at the brainwave patterns of people with different forms of dementia, but I was failing miserably at finding any difference between them, he recalls now. One night, however, he read a scientific paper that changed everything. It described which parts of the brain were being attacked by these different types of dementia: Some were attacking parts of the brain that had to do with controlled sleep, while other types left those sleep centres unaffected. I realised my mistake. I had been measuring the brainwave activity of my patients while they were awake, when I should have been doing so while they were asleep. Over the next six months, Walker taught himself how to set up a sleep laboratory and, sure enough, the recordings he made in it subsequently spoke loudly of a clear difference between patients. Sleep, it seemed, could be a new early diagnostic litmus test for different subtypes of dementia.

After this, sleep became his obsession. Only then did I ask: what is this thing called sleep, and what does it do? I was always curious, annoyingly so, but when I started to read about sleep, I would look up and hours would have gone by. No one could answer the simple question: why do we sleep? That seemed to me to be the greatest scientific mystery. I was going to attack it, and I was going to do that in two years. But I was naive. I didnt realise that some of the greatest scientific minds had been trying to do the same thing for their entire careers. That was two decades ago, and Im still cracking away. After gaining his doctorate, he moved to the US. Formerly a professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, he is now professor of neuroscience and psychology at the University of California.

Does his obsession extend to the bedroom? Does he take his own advice when it comes to sleep? Yes. I give myself a non-negotiable eight-hour sleep opportunity every night, and I keep very regular hours: if there is one thing I tell people, its to go to bed and to wake up at the same time every day, no matter what. I take my sleep incredibly seriously because I have seen the evidence. Once you know that after just one night of only four or five hours sleep, your natural killer cells the ones that attack the cancer cells that appear in your body every day drop by 70%, or that a lack of sleep is linked to cancer of the bowel, prostate and breast, or even just that the World Health Organisation has classed any form of night-time shift work as a probable carcinogen, how could you do anything else?

There is, however, a sting in the tale. Should his eyelids fail to close, Walker admits that he can be a touch Woody Allen-neurotic. When, for instance, he came to London over the summer, he found himself jet-lagged and wide awake in his hotel room at two oclock in the morning. His problem then, as always in these situations, was that he knew too much. His brain began to race. I thought: my orexin isnt being turned off, the sensory gate of my thalamus is wedged open, my dorsolateral prefrontal cortex wont shut down, and my melatonin surge wont happen for another seven hours. What did he do? In the end, it seems, even world experts in sleep act just like the rest of us when struck by the curse of insomnia. He turned on a light and read for a while.

Will Why We Sleep have the impact its author hopes? Im not sure: the science bits, it must be said, require some concentration. But what I can tell you is that it had a powerful effect on me. After reading it, I was absolutely determined to go to bed earlier a regime to which I am sticking determinedly. In a way, I was prepared for this. I first encountered Walker some months ago, when he spoke at an event at Somerset House in London, and he struck me then as both passionate and convincing (our later interview takes place via Skype from the basement of his sleep centre, a spot which, with its bedrooms off a long corridor, apparently resembles the ward of a private hospital). But in another way, it was unexpected. I am mostly immune to health advice. Inside my head, there is always a voice that says just enjoy life while it lasts.

The evidence Walker presents, however, is enough to send anyone early to bed. Its no kind of choice at all. Without sleep, there is low energy and disease. With sleep, there is vitality and health. More than 20 large scale epidemiological studies all report the same clear relationship: the shorter your sleep, the shorter your life. To take just one example, adults aged 45 years or older who sleep less than six hours a night are 200% more likely to have a heart attack or stroke in their lifetime, as compared with those sleeping seven or eight hours a night (part of the reason for this has to do with blood pressure: even just one night of modest sleep reduction will speed the rate of a persons heart, hour upon hour, and significantly increase their blood pressure).

A lack of sleep also appears to hijack the bodys effective control of blood sugar, the cells of the sleep-deprived appearing, in experiments, to become less responsive to insulin, and thus to cause a prediabetic state of hyperglycaemia. When your sleep becomes short, moreover, you are susceptible to weight gain. Among the reasons for this are the fact that inadequate sleep decreases levels of the satiety-signalling hormone, leptin, and increases levels of the hunger-signalling hormone, ghrelin. Im not going to say that the obesity crisis is caused by the sleep-loss epidemic alone, says Walker. Its not. However, processed food and sedentary lifestyles do not adequately explain its rise. Something is missing. Its now clear that sleep is that third ingredient. Tiredness, of course, also affects motivation.

Sleep has a powerful effect on the immune system, which is why, when we have flu, our first instinct is to go to bed: our body is trying to sleep itself well. Reduce sleep even for a single night, and your resilience is drastically reduced. If you are tired, you are more likely to catch a cold. The well-rested also respond better to the flu vaccine. As Walker has already said, more gravely, studies show that short sleep can affect our cancer-fighting immune cells. A number of epidemiological studies have reported that night-time shift work and the disruption to circadian sleep and rhythms that it causes increase the odds of developing cancers including breast, prostate, endometrium and colon.

Getting too little sleep across the adult lifespan will significantly raise your risk of developing Alzheimers disease. The reasons for this are difficult to summarise, but in essence it has to do with the amyloid deposits (a toxin protein) that accumulate in the brains of those suffering from the disease, killing the surrounding cells. During deep sleep, such deposits are effectively cleaned from the brain. What occurs in an Alzheimers patient is a kind of vicious circle. Without sufficient sleep, these plaques build up, especially in the brains deep-sleep-generating regions, attacking and degrading them. The loss of deep sleep caused by this assault therefore lessens our ability to remove them from the brain at night. More amyloid, less deep sleep; less deep sleep, more amyloid, and so on. (In his book, Walker notes unscientifically that he has always found it curious that Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan, both of whom were vocal about how little sleep they needed, both went on to develop the disease; it is, moreover, a myth that older adults need less sleep.) Away from dementia, sleep aids our ability to make new memories, and restores our capacity for learning.

And then there is sleeps effect on mental health. When your mother told you that everything would look better in the morning, she was wise. Walkers book includes a long section on dreams (which, says Walker, contrary to Dr Freud, cannot be analysed). Here he details the various ways in which the dream state connects to creativity. He also suggests that dreaming is a soothing balm. If we sleep to remember (see above), then we also sleep to forget. Deep sleep the part when we begin to dream is a therapeutic state during which we cast off the emotional charge of our experiences, making them easier to bear. Sleep, or a lack of it, also affects our mood more generally. Brain scans carried out by Walker revealed a 60% amplification in the reactivity of the amygdala a key spot for triggering anger and rage in those who were sleep-deprived. In children, sleeplessness has been linked to aggression and bullying; in adolescents, to suicidal thoughts. Insufficient sleep is also associated with relapse in addiction disorders. A prevailing view in psychiatry is that mental disorders cause sleep disruption. But Walker believes it is, in fact, a two-way street. Regulated sleep can improve the health of, for instance, those with bipolar disorder.

Ive mentioned deep sleep in this (too brief) summary several times. What is it, exactly? We sleep in 90-minute cycles, and its only towards the end of each one of these that we go into deep sleep. Each cycle comprises two kinds of sleep. First, there is NREM sleep (non-rapid eye movement sleep); this is then followed by REM (rapid eye movement) sleep. When Walker talks about these cycles, which still have their mysteries, his voice changes. He sounds bewitched, almost dazed.

During NREM sleep, your brain goes into this incredible synchronised pattern of rhythmic chanting, he says. Theres a remarkable unity across the surface of the brain, like a deep, slow mantra. Researchers were once fooled that this state was similar to a coma. But nothing could be further from the truth. Vast amounts of memory processing is going on. To produce these brainwaves, hundreds of thousands of cells all sing together, and then go silent, and on and on. Meanwhile, your body settles into this lovely low state of energy, the best blood-pressure medicine you could ever hope for. REM sleep, on the other hand, is sometimes known as paradoxical sleep, because the brain patterns are identical to when youre awake. Its an incredibly active brain state. Your heart and nervous system go through spurts of activity: were still not exactly sure why.

Does the 90-minute cycle mean that so-called power naps are worthless? They can take the edge off basic sleepiness. But you need 90 minutes to get to deep sleep, and one cycle isnt enough to do all the work. You need four or five cycles to get all the benefit. Is it possible to have too much sleep? This is unclear. There is no good evidence at the moment. But I do think 14 hours is too much. Too much water can kill you, and too much food, and I think ultimately the same will prove to be true for sleep. How is it possible to tell if a person is sleep-deprived? Walker thinks we should trust our instincts. Those who would sleep on if their alarm clock was turned off are simply not getting enough. Ditto those who need caffeine in the afternoon to stay awake. I see it all the time, he says. I get on a flight at 10am when people should be at peak alert, and I look around, and half of the plane has immediately fallen asleep.

So what can the individual do? First, they should avoid pulling all-nighters, at their desks or on the dancefloor. After being awake for 19 hours, youre as cognitively impaired as someone who is drunk. Second, they should start thinking about sleep as a kind of work, like going to the gym (with the key difference that it is both free and, if youre me, enjoyable). People use alarms to wake up, Walker says. So why dont we have a bedtime alarm to tell us weve got half an hour, that we should start cycling down? We should start thinking of midnight more in terms of its original meaning: as the middle of the night. Schools should consider later starts for students; such delays correlate with improved IQs. Companies should think about rewarding sleep. Productivity will rise, and motivation, creativity and even levels of honesty will be improved. Sleep can be measured using tracking devices, and some far-sighted companies in the US already give employees time off if they clock enough of it. Sleeping pills, by the way, are to be avoided. Among other things, they can have a deleterious effect on memory.

Those who are focused on so-called clean sleep are determined to outlaw mobiles and computers from the bedroom and quite right, too, given the effect of LED-emitting devices on melatonin, the sleep-inducing hormone. Ultimately, though, Walker believes that technology will be sleeps saviour. There is going to be a revolution in the quantified self in industrial nations, he says. We will know everything about our bodies from one day to the next in high fidelity. That will be a seismic shift, and we will then start to develop methods by which we can amplify different components of human sleep, and do that from the bedside. Sleep will come to be seen as a preventive medicine.

What questions does Walker still most want to answer? For a while, he is quiet. Its so difficult, he says, with a sigh. There are so many. I would still like to know where we go, psychologically and physiologically, when we dream. Dreaming is the second state of human consciousness, and we have only scratched the surface so far. But I would also like to find out when sleep emerged. I like to posit a ridiculous theory, which is: perhaps sleep did not evolve. Perhaps it was the thing from which wakefulness emerged. He laughs. If I could have some kind of medical Tardis and go back in time to look at that, well, I would sleep better at night.

Why We Sleep: The New Science of Sleep and Dreamsby Matthew Walker is published by Allen Lane (20). To order a copy for 17 go toguardianbookshop.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over 10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of 1.99

Sleep in numbers

Two-thirds of adults in developed nations fail to obtain the nightly eight hours of sleep recommended by the World Health Organisation.

An adult sleeping only 6.75 hours a night would be predicted to live only to their early 60s without medical intervention.

A 2013 study reported that men who slept too little had a sperm count 29% lower than those who regularly get a full and restful nights sleep.

If you drive a car when you have had less than five hours sleep, you are 4.3 times more likely to be involved in a crash. If you drive having had four hours, you are 11.5 times more likely to be involved in an accident.

A hot bath aids sleep not because it makes you warm, but because your dilated blood vessels radiate inner heat, and your core body temperature drops. To successfully initiate sleep, your core temperature needs to drop about 1C.

The time taken to reach physical exhaustion by athletes who obtain anything less than eight hours of sleep, and especially less than six hours, drops by 10-30%.

There are now more than 100 diagnosed sleep disorders, of which insomnia is the mostcommon.

Morning types, who prefer to awake at or around dawn, make up about 40% of the population. Evening types, who prefer to go to bed late and wake up late, account for about 30%. The remaining 30% lie somewhere in between.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2weQZrI

from Viral News HQ http://ift.tt/2ylFZwz via Viral News HQ

[shg11]

Leading neuroscientist Matthew Walker on why sleep deprivation is increasing our risk of cancer, heart attack and Alzheimers and what you can do about it

Matthew Walker has learned to dread the question What do you do? At parties, it signals the end of his evening; thereafter, his new acquaintance will inevitably cling to him like ivy. On an aeroplane, it usually means that while everyone else watches movies or reads a thriller, he will find himself running an hours-long salon for the benefit of passengers and crew alike. Ive begun to lie, he says. Seriously. I just tell people Im a dolphin trainer. Its better for everyone.

Walker is a sleep scientist. To be specific, he is the director of the Center for Human Sleep Science at the University of California, Berkeley, a research institute whose goal possibly unachievable is to understand everything about sleeps impact on us, from birth to death, in sickness and health. No wonder, then, that people long for his counsel. As the line between work and leisure grows ever more blurred, rare is the person who doesnt worry about their sleep. But even as we contemplate the shadows beneath our eyes, most of us dont know the half of it and perhaps this is the real reason he has stopped telling strangers how he makes his living. When Walker talks about sleep he cant, in all conscience, limit himself to whispering comforting nothings about camomile tea and warm baths. Its his conviction that we are in the midst of a catastrophic sleep-loss epidemic, the consequences of which are far graver than any of us could imagine. This situation, he believes, is only likely to change if government gets involved.

Walker has spent the last four and a half years writing Why We Sleep, a complex but urgent book that examines the effects of this epidemic close up, the idea being that once people know of the powerful links between sleep loss and, among other things, Alzheimers disease, cancer, diabetes, obesity and poor mental health, they will try harder to get the recommended eight hours a night (sleep deprivation, amazing as this may sound to Donald Trump types, constitutes anything less than seven hours). But, in the end, the individual can achieve only so much. Walker wants major institutions and law-makers to take up his ideas, too. No aspect of our biology is left unscathed by sleep deprivation, he says. It sinks down into every possible nook and cranny. And yet no one is doing anything about it. Things have to change: in the workplace and our communities, our homes and families. But when did you ever see an NHS poster urging sleep on people? When did a doctor prescribe, not sleeping pills, but sleep itself? It needs to be prioritised, even incentivised. Sleep loss costs the UK economy over 30bn a year in lost revenue, or 2% of GDP. I could double the NHS budget if only they would institute policies to mandate or powerfully encourage sleep.

Why, exactly, are we so sleep-deprived? What has happened over the course of the last 75 years? In 1942, less than 8% of the population was trying to survive on six hours or less sleep a night; in 2017, almost one in two people is. The reasons are seemingly obvious. First, we electrified the night, Walker says. Light is a profound degrader of our sleep. Second, there is the issue of work: not only the porous borders between when you start and finish, but longer commuter times, too. No one wants to give up time with their family or entertainment, so they give up sleep instead. And anxiety plays a part. Were a lonelier, more depressed society. Alcohol and caffeine are more widely available. All these are the enemies of sleep.

But Walker believes, too, that in the developed world sleep is strongly associated with weakness, even shame. We have stigmatised sleep with the label of laziness. We want to seem busy, and one way we express that is by proclaiming how little sleep were getting. Its a badge of honour. When I give lectures, people will wait behind until there is no one around and then tell me quietly: I seem to be one of those people who need eight or nine hours sleep. Its embarrassing to say it in public. They would rather wait 45 minutes for the confessional. Theyre convinced that theyre abnormal, and why wouldnt they be? We chastise people for sleeping what are, after all, only sufficient amounts. We think of them as slothful. No one would look at an infant baby asleep, and say What a lazy baby! We know sleeping is non-negotiable for a baby. But that notion is quickly abandoned [as we grow up]. Humans are the only species that deliberately deprive themselves of sleep for no apparent reason. In case youre wondering, the number of people who can survive on five hours of sleep or less without any impairment, expressed as a percent of the population and rounded to a whole number, is zero.

The world of sleep science is still relatively small. But it is growing exponentially, thanks both to demand (the multifarious and growing pressures caused by the epidemic) and to new technology (such as electrical and magnetic brain stimulators), which enables researchers to have what Walker describes as VIP access to the sleeping brain. Walker, who is 44 and was born in Liverpool, has been in the field for more than 20 years, having published his first research paper at the age of just 21. I would love to tell you that I was fascinated by conscious states from childhood, he says. But in truth, it was accidental. He started out studying for a medical degree in Nottingham. But having discovered that doctoring wasnt for him he was more enthralled by questions than by answers he switched to neuroscience, and after graduation, began a PhD in neurophysiology supported by the Medical Research Council. It was while working on this that he stumbled into the realm of sleep.

Matthew Walker photographed in his sleep lab. Photograph: Saroyan Humphrey for the Observer

I was looking at the brainwave patterns of people with different forms of dementia, but I was failing miserably at finding any difference between them, he recalls now. One night, however, he read a scientific paper that changed everything. It described which parts of the brain were being attacked by these different types of dementia: Some were attacking parts of the brain that had to do with controlled sleep, while other types left those sleep centres unaffected. I realised my mistake. I had been measuring the brainwave activity of my patients while they were awake, when I should have been doing so while they were asleep. Over the next six months, Walker taught himself how to set up a sleep laboratory and, sure enough, the recordings he made in it subsequently spoke loudly of a clear difference between patients. Sleep, it seemed, could be a new early diagnostic litmus test for different subtypes of dementia.

After this, sleep became his obsession. Only then did I ask: what is this thing called sleep, and what does it do? I was always curious, annoyingly so, but when I started to read about sleep, I would look up and hours would have gone by. No one could answer the simple question: why do we sleep? That seemed to me to be the greatest scientific mystery. I was going to attack it, and I was going to do that in two years. But I was naive. I didnt realise that some of the greatest scientific minds had been trying to do the same thing for their entire careers. That was two decades ago, and Im still cracking away. After gaining his doctorate, he moved to the US. Formerly a professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, he is now professor of neuroscience and psychology at the University of California.

Does his obsession extend to the bedroom? Does he take his own advice when it comes to sleep? Yes. I give myself a non-negotiable eight-hour sleep opportunity every night, and I keep very regular hours: if there is one thing I tell people, its to go to bed and to wake up at the same time every day, no matter what. I take my sleep incredibly seriously because I have seen the evidence. Once you know that after just one night of only four or five hours sleep, your natural killer cells the ones that attack the cancer cells that appear in your body every day drop by 70%, or that a lack of sleep is linked to cancer of the bowel, prostate and breast, or even just that the World Health Organisation has classed any form of night-time shift work as a probable carcinogen, how could you do anything else?

There is, however, a sting in the tale. Should his eyelids fail to close, Walker admits that he can be a touch Woody Allen-neurotic. When, for instance, he came to London over the summer, he found himself jet-lagged and wide awake in his hotel room at two oclock in the morning. His problem then, as always in these situations, was that he knew too much. His brain began to race. I thought: my orexin isnt being turned off, the sensory gate of my thalamus is wedged open, my dorsolateral prefrontal cortex wont shut down, and my melatonin surge wont happen for another seven hours. What did he do? In the end, it seems, even world experts in sleep act just like the rest of us when struck by the curse of insomnia. He turned on a light and read for a while.

Will Why We Sleep have the impact its author hopes? Im not sure: the science bits, it must be said, require some concentration. But what I can tell you is that it had a powerful effect on me. After reading it, I was absolutely determined to go to bed earlier a regime to which I am sticking determinedly. In a way, I was prepared for this. I first encountered Walker some months ago, when he spoke at an event at Somerset House in London, and he struck me then as both passionate and convincing (our later interview takes place via Skype from the basement of his sleep centre, a spot which, with its bedrooms off a long corridor, apparently resembles the ward of a private hospital). But in another way, it was unexpected. I am mostly immune to health advice. Inside my head, there is always a voice that says just enjoy life while it lasts.

The evidence Walker presents, however, is enough to send anyone early to bed. Its no kind of choice at all. Without sleep, there is low energy and disease. With sleep, there is vitality and health. More than 20 large scale epidemiological studies all report the same clear relationship: the shorter your sleep, the shorter your life. To take just one example, adults aged 45 years or older who sleep less than six hours a night are 200% more likely to have a heart attack or stroke in their lifetime, as compared with those sleeping seven or eight hours a night (part of the reason for this has to do with blood pressure: even just one night of modest sleep reduction will speed the rate of a persons heart, hour upon hour, and significantly increase their blood pressure).

A lack of sleep also appears to hijack the bodys effective control of blood sugar, the cells of the sleep-deprived appearing, in experiments, to become less responsive to insulin, and thus to cause a prediabetic state of hyperglycaemia. When your sleep becomes short, moreover, you are susceptible to weight gain. Among the reasons for this are the fact that inadequate sleep decreases levels of the satiety-signalling hormone, leptin, and increases levels of the hunger-signalling hormone, ghrelin. Im not going to say that the obesity crisis is caused by the sleep-loss epidemic alone, says Walker. Its not. However, processed food and sedentary lifestyles do not adequately explain its rise. Something is missing. Its now clear that sleep is that third ingredient. Tiredness, of course, also affects motivation.

Sleep has a powerful effect on the immune system, which is why, when we have flu, our first instinct is to go to bed: our body is trying to sleep itself well. Reduce sleep even for a single night, and your resilience is drastically reduced. If you are tired, you are more likely to catch a cold. The well-rested also respond better to the flu vaccine. As Walker has already said, more gravely, studies show that short sleep can affect our cancer-fighting immune cells. A number of epidemiological studies have reported that night-time shift work and the disruption to circadian sleep and rhythms that it causes increase the odds of developing cancers including breast, prostate, endometrium and colon.

Getting too little sleep across the adult lifespan will significantly raise your risk of developing Alzheimers disease. The reasons for this are difficult to summarise, but in essence it has to do with the amyloid deposits (a toxin protein) that accumulate in the brains of those suffering from the disease, killing the surrounding cells. During deep sleep, such deposits are effectively cleaned from the brain. What occurs in an Alzheimers patient is a kind of vicious circle. Without sufficient sleep, these plaques build up, especially in the brains deep-sleep-generating regions, attacking and degrading them. The loss of deep sleep caused by this assault therefore lessens our ability to remove them from the brain at night. More amyloid, less deep sleep; less deep sleep, more amyloid, and so on. (In his book, Walker notes unscientifically that he has always found it curious that Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan, both of whom were vocal about how little sleep they needed, both went on to develop the disease; it is, moreover, a myth that older adults need less sleep.) Away from dementia, sleep aids our ability to make new memories, and restores our capacity for learning.

And then there is sleeps effect on mental health. When your mother told you that everything would look better in the morning, she was wise. Walkers book includes a long section on dreams (which, says Walker, contrary to Dr Freud, cannot be analysed). Here he details the various ways in which the dream state connects to creativity. He also suggests that dreaming is a soothing balm. If we sleep to remember (see above), then we also sleep to forget. Deep sleep the part when we begin to dream is a therapeutic state during which we cast off the emotional charge of our experiences, making them easier to bear. Sleep, or a lack of it, also affects our mood more generally. Brain scans carried out by Walker revealed a 60% amplification in the reactivity of the amygdala a key spot for triggering anger and rage in those who were sleep-deprived. In children, sleeplessness has been linked to aggression and bullying; in adolescents, to suicidal thoughts. Insufficient sleep is also associated with relapse in addiction disorders. A prevailing view in psychiatry is that mental disorders cause sleep disruption. But Walker believes it is, in fact, a two-way street. Regulated sleep can improve the health of, for instance, those with bipolar disorder.

Ive mentioned deep sleep in this (too brief) summary several times. What is it, exactly? We sleep in 90-minute cycles, and its only towards the end of each one of these that we go into deep sleep. Each cycle comprises two kinds of sleep. First, there is NREM sleep (non-rapid eye movement sleep); this is then followed by REM (rapid eye movement) sleep. When Walker talks about these cycles, which still have their mysteries, his voice changes. He sounds bewitched, almost dazed.

During NREM sleep, your brain goes into this incredible synchronised pattern of rhythmic chanting, he says. Theres a remarkable unity across the surface of the brain, like a deep, slow mantra. Researchers were once fooled that this state was similar to a coma. But nothing could be further from the truth. Vast amounts of memory processing is going on. To produce these brainwaves, hundreds of thousands of cells all sing together, and then go silent, and on and on. Meanwhile, your body settles into this lovely low state of energy, the best blood-pressure medicine you could ever hope for. REM sleep, on the other hand, is sometimes known as paradoxical sleep, because the brain patterns are identical to when youre awake. Its an incredibly active brain state. Your heart and nervous system go through spurts of activity: were still not exactly sure why.

Does the 90-minute cycle mean that so-called power naps are worthless? They can take the edge off basic sleepiness. But you need 90 minutes to get to deep sleep, and one cycle isnt enough to do all the work. You need four or five cycles to get all the benefit. Is it possible to have too much sleep? This is unclear. There is no good evidence at the moment. But I do think 14 hours is too much. Too much water can kill you, and too much food, and I think ultimately the same will prove to be true for sleep. How is it possible to tell if a person is sleep-deprived? Walker thinks we should trust our instincts. Those who would sleep on if their alarm clock was turned off are simply not getting enough. Ditto those who need caffeine in the afternoon to stay awake. I see it all the time, he says. I get on a flight at 10am when people should be at peak alert, and I look around, and half of the plane has immediately fallen asleep.

So what can the individual do? First, they should avoid pulling all-nighters, at their desks or on the dancefloor. After being awake for 19 hours, youre as cognitively impaired as someone who is drunk. Second, they should start thinking about sleep as a kind of work, like going to the gym (with the key difference that it is both free and, if youre me, enjoyable). People use alarms to wake up, Walker says. So why dont we have a bedtime alarm to tell us weve got half an hour, that we should start cycling down? We should start thinking of midnight more in terms of its original meaning: as the middle of the night. Schools should consider later starts for students; such delays correlate with improved IQs. Companies should think about rewarding sleep. Productivity will rise, and motivation, creativity and even levels of honesty will be improved. Sleep can be measured using tracking devices, and some far-sighted companies in the US already give employees time off if they clock enough of it. Sleeping pills, by the way, are to be avoided. Among other things, they can have a deleterious effect on memory.

Those who are focused on so-called clean sleep are determined to outlaw mobiles and computers from the bedroom and quite right, too, given the effect of LED-emitting devices on melatonin, the sleep-inducing hormone. Ultimately, though, Walker believes that technology will be sleeps saviour. There is going to be a revolution in the quantified self in industrial nations, he says. We will know everything about our bodies from one day to the next in high fidelity. That will be a seismic shift, and we will then start to develop methods by which we can amplify different components of human sleep, and do that from the bedside. Sleep will come to be seen as a preventive medicine.

What questions does Walker still most want to answer? For a while, he is quiet. Its so difficult, he says, with a sigh. There are so many. I would still like to know where we go, psychologically and physiologically, when we dream. Dreaming is the second state of human consciousness, and we have only scratched the surface so far. But I would also like to find out when sleep emerged. I like to posit a ridiculous theory, which is: perhaps sleep did not evolve. Perhaps it was the thing from which wakefulness emerged. He laughs. If I could have some kind of medical Tardis and go back in time to look at that, well, I would sleep better at night.

Why We Sleep: The New Science of Sleep and Dreamsby Matthew Walker is published by Allen Lane (20). To order a copy for 17 go toguardianbookshop.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over 10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of 1.99

Sleep in numbers

Two-thirds of adults in developed nations fail to obtain the nightly eight hours of sleep recommended by the World Health Organisation.

An adult sleeping only 6.75 hours a night would be predicted to live only to their early 60s without medical intervention.

A 2013 study reported that men who slept too little had a sperm count 29% lower than those who regularly get a full and restful nights sleep.

If you drive a car when you have had less than five hours sleep, you are 4.3 times more likely to be involved in a crash. If you drive having had four hours, you are 11.5 times more likely to be involved in an accident.

A hot bath aids sleep not because it makes you warm, but because your dilated blood vessels radiate inner heat, and your core body temperature drops. To successfully initiate sleep, your core temperature needs to drop about 1C.

The time taken to reach physical exhaustion by athletes who obtain anything less than eight hours of sleep, and especially less than six hours, drops by 10-30%.

There are now more than 100 diagnosed sleep disorders, of which insomnia is the mostcommon.

Morning types, who prefer to awake at or around dawn, make up about 40% of the population. Evening types, who prefer to go to bed late and wake up late, account for about 30%. The remaining 30% lie somewhere in between.

Read more: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2017/sep/24/why-lack-of-sleep-health-worst-enemy-matthew-walker-why-we-sleep

[soyhidalgo]

//XPAT LIFE (SunChannel Micros) -  2014 Cámara y edición, de esta serie de micros informativos acerca de eventos de emigrantes viviendo en Buenos aires, Argentina.

[trendingnewsb]

The shorter your sleep, the shorter your life: the new sleep science

Leading neuroscientist Matthew Walker on why sleep deprivation is increasing our risk of cancer, heart attack and Alzheimers and what you can do about it

Matthew Walker has learned to dread the question What do you do? At parties, it signals the end of his evening; thereafter, his new acquaintance will inevitably cling to him like ivy. On an aeroplane, it usually means that while everyone else watches movies or reads a thriller, he will find himself running an hours-long salon for the benefit of passengers and crew alike. Ive begun to lie, he says. Seriously. I just tell people Im a dolphin trainer. Its better for everyone.

Walker is a sleep scientist. To be specific, he is the director of the Center for Human Sleep Science at the University of California, Berkeley, a research institute whose goal possibly unachievable is to understand everything about sleeps impact on us, from birth to death, in sickness and health. No wonder, then, that people long for his counsel. As the line between work and leisure grows ever more blurred, rare is the person who doesnt worry about their sleep. But even as we contemplate the shadows beneath our eyes, most of us dont know the half of it and perhaps this is the real reason he has stopped telling strangers how he makes his living. When Walker talks about sleep he cant, in all conscience, limit himself to whispering comforting nothings about camomile tea and warm baths. Its his conviction that we are in the midst of a catastrophic sleep-loss epidemic, the consequences of which are far graver than any of us could imagine. This situation, he believes, is only likely to change if government gets involved.

Walker has spent the last four and a half years writing Why We Sleep, a complex but urgent book that examines the effects of this epidemic close up, the idea being that once people know of the powerful links between sleep loss and, among other things, Alzheimers disease, cancer, diabetes, obesity and poor mental health, they will try harder to get the recommended eight hours a night (sleep deprivation, amazing as this may sound to Donald Trump types, constitutes anything less than seven hours). But, in the end, the individual can achieve only so much. Walker wants major institutions and law-makers to take up his ideas, too. No aspect of our biology is left unscathed by sleep deprivation, he says. It sinks down into every possible nook and cranny. And yet no one is doing anything about it. Things have to change: in the workplace and our communities, our homes and families. But when did you ever see an NHS poster urging sleep on people? When did a doctor prescribe, not sleeping pills, but sleep itself? It needs to be prioritised, even incentivised. Sleep loss costs the UK economy over 30bn a year in lost revenue, or 2% of GDP. I could double the NHS budget if only they would institute policies to mandate or powerfully encourage sleep.

Why, exactly, are we so sleep-deprived? What has happened over the course of the last 75 years? In 1942, less than 8% of the population was trying to survive on six hours or less sleep a night; in 2017, almost one in two people is. The reasons are seemingly obvious. First, we electrified the night, Walker says. Light is a profound degrader of our sleep. Second, there is the issue of work: not only the porous borders between when you start and finish, but longer commuter times, too. No one wants to give up time with their family or entertainment, so they give up sleep instead. And anxiety plays a part. Were a lonelier, more depressed society. Alcohol and caffeine are more widely available. All these are the enemies of sleep.

But Walker believes, too, that in the developed world sleep is strongly associated with weakness, even shame. We have stigmatised sleep with the label of laziness. We want to seem busy, and one way we express that is by proclaiming how little sleep were getting. Its a badge of honour. When I give lectures, people will wait behind until there is no one around and then tell me quietly: I seem to be one of those people who need eight or nine hours sleep. Its embarrassing to say it in public. They would rather wait 45 minutes for the confessional. Theyre convinced that theyre abnormal, and why wouldnt they be? We chastise people for sleeping what are, after all, only sufficient amounts. We think of them as slothful. No one would look at an infant baby asleep, and say What a lazy baby! We know sleeping is non-negotiable for a baby. But that notion is quickly abandoned [as we grow up]. Humans are the only species that deliberately deprive themselves of sleep for no apparent reason. In case youre wondering, the number of people who can survive on five hours of sleep or less without any impairment, expressed as a percent of the population and rounded to a whole number, is zero.

The world of sleep science is still relatively small. But it is growing exponentially, thanks both to demand (the multifarious and growing pressures caused by the epidemic) and to new technology (such as electrical and magnetic brain stimulators), which enables researchers to have what Walker describes as VIP access to the sleeping brain. Walker, who is 44 and was born in Liverpool, has been in the field for more than 20 years, having published his first research paper at the age of just 21. I would love to tell you that I was fascinated by conscious states from childhood, he says. But in truth, it was accidental. He started out studying for a medical degree in Nottingham. But having discovered that doctoring wasnt for him he was more enthralled by questions than by answers he switched to neuroscience, and after graduation, began a PhD in neurophysiology supported by the Medical Research Council. It was while working on this that he stumbled into the realm of sleep.

Matthew Walker photographed in his sleep lab. Photograph: Saroyan Humphrey for the Observer

I was looking at the brainwave patterns of people with different forms of dementia, but I was failing miserably at finding any difference between them, he recalls now. One night, however, he read a scientific paper that changed everything. It described which parts of the brain were being attacked by these different types of dementia: Some were attacking parts of the brain that had to do with controlled sleep, while other types left those sleep centres unaffected. I realised my mistake. I had been measuring the brainwave activity of my patients while they were awake, when I should have been doing so while they were asleep. Over the next six months, Walker taught himself how to set up a sleep laboratory and, sure enough, the recordings he made in it subsequently spoke loudly of a clear difference between patients. Sleep, it seemed, could be a new early diagnostic litmus test for different subtypes of dementia.

After this, sleep became his obsession. Only then did I ask: what is this thing called sleep, and what does it do? I was always curious, annoyingly so, but when I started to read about sleep, I would look up and hours would have gone by. No one could answer the simple question: why do we sleep? That seemed to me to be the greatest scientific mystery. I was going to attack it, and I was going to do that in two years. But I was naive. I didnt realise that some of the greatest scientific minds had been trying to do the same thing for their entire careers. That was two decades ago, and Im still cracking away. After gaining his doctorate, he moved to the US. Formerly a professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical School, he is now professor of neuroscience and psychology at the University of California.

Does his obsession extend to the bedroom? Does he take his own advice when it comes to sleep? Yes. I give myself a non-negotiable eight-hour sleep opportunity every night, and I keep very regular hours: if there is one thing I tell people, its to go to bed and to wake up at the same time every day, no matter what. I take my sleep incredibly seriously because I have seen the evidence. Once you know that after just one night of only four or five hours sleep, your natural killer cells the ones that attack the cancer cells that appear in your body every day drop by 70%, or that a lack of sleep is linked to cancer of the bowel, prostate and breast, or even just that the World Health Organisation has classed any form of night-time shift work as a probable carcinogen, how could you do anything else?

There is, however, a sting in the tale. Should his eyelids fail to close, Walker admits that he can be a touch Woody Allen-neurotic. When, for instance, he came to London over the summer, he found himself jet-lagged and wide awake in his hotel room at two oclock in the morning. His problem then, as always in these situations, was that he knew too much. His brain began to race. I thought: my orexin isnt being turned off, the sensory gate of my thalamus is wedged open, my dorsolateral prefrontal cortex wont shut down, and my melatonin surge wont happen for another seven hours. What did he do? In the end, it seems, even world experts in sleep act just like the rest of us when struck by the curse of insomnia. He turned on a light and read for a while.

Will Why We Sleep have the impact its author hopes? Im not sure: the science bits, it must be said, require some concentration. But what I can tell you is that it had a powerful effect on me. After reading it, I was absolutely determined to go to bed earlier a regime to which I am sticking determinedly. In a way, I was prepared for this. I first encountered Walker some months ago, when he spoke at an event at Somerset House in London, and he struck me then as both passionate and convincing (our later interview takes place via Skype from the basement of his sleep centre, a spot which, with its bedrooms off a long corridor, apparently resembles the ward of a private hospital). But in another way, it was unexpected. I am mostly immune to health advice. Inside my head, there is always a voice that says just enjoy life while it lasts.

The evidence Walker presents, however, is enough to send anyone early to bed. Its no kind of choice at all. Without sleep, there is low energy and disease. With sleep, there is vitality and health. More than 20 large scale epidemiological studies all report the same clear relationship: the shorter your sleep, the shorter your life. To take just one example, adults aged 45 years or older who sleep less than six hours a night are 200% more likely to have a heart attack or stroke in their lifetime, as compared with those sleeping seven or eight hours a night (part of the reason for this has to do with blood pressure: even just one night of modest sleep reduction will speed the rate of a persons heart, hour upon hour, and significantly increase their blood pressure).

A lack of sleep also appears to hijack the bodys effective control of blood sugar, the cells of the sleep-deprived appearing, in experiments, to become less responsive to insulin, and thus to cause a prediabetic state of hyperglycaemia. When your sleep becomes short, moreover, you are susceptible to weight gain. Among the reasons for this are the fact that inadequate sleep decreases levels of the satiety-signalling hormone, leptin, and increases levels of the hunger-signalling hormone, ghrelin. Im not going to say that the obesity crisis is caused by the sleep-loss epidemic alone, says Walker. Its not. However, processed food and sedentary lifestyles do not adequately explain its rise. Something is missing. Its now clear that sleep is that third ingredient. Tiredness, of course, also affects motivation.

Sleep has a powerful effect on the immune system, which is why, when we have flu, our first instinct is to go to bed: our body is trying to sleep itself well. Reduce sleep even for a single night, and your resilience is drastically reduced. If you are tired, you are more likely to catch a cold. The well-rested also respond better to the flu vaccine. As Walker has already said, more gravely, studies show that short sleep can affect our cancer-fighting immune cells. A number of epidemiological studies have reported that night-time shift work and the disruption to circadian sleep and rhythms that it causes increase the odds of developing cancers including breast, prostate, endometrium and colon.

Getting too little sleep across the adult lifespan will significantly raise your risk of developing Alzheimers disease. The reasons for this are difficult to summarise, but in essence it has to do with the amyloid deposits (a toxin protein) that accumulate in the brains of those suffering from the disease, killing the surrounding cells. During deep sleep, such deposits are effectively cleaned from the brain. What occurs in an Alzheimers patient is a kind of vicious circle. Without sufficient sleep, these plaques build up, especially in the brains deep-sleep-generating regions, attacking and degrading them. The loss of deep sleep caused by this assault therefore lessens our ability to remove them from the brain at night. More amyloid, less deep sleep; less deep sleep, more amyloid, and so on. (In his book, Walker notes unscientifically that he has always found it curious that Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan, both of whom were vocal about how little sleep they needed, both went on to develop the disease; it is, moreover, a myth that older adults need less sleep.) Away from dementia, sleep aids our ability to make new memories, and restores our capacity for learning.

And then there is sleeps effect on mental health. When your mother told you that everything would look better in the morning, she was wise. Walkers book includes a long section on dreams (which, says Walker, contrary to Dr Freud, cannot be analysed). Here he details the various ways in which the dream state connects to creativity. He also suggests that dreaming is a soothing balm. If we sleep to remember (see above), then we also sleep to forget. Deep sleep the part when we begin to dream is a therapeutic state during which we cast off the emotional charge of our experiences, making them easier to bear. Sleep, or a lack of it, also affects our mood more generally. Brain scans carried out by Walker revealed a 60% amplification in the reactivity of the amygdala a key spot for triggering anger and rage in those who were sleep-deprived. In children, sleeplessness has been linked to aggression and bullying; in adolescents, to suicidal thoughts. Insufficient sleep is also associated with relapse in addiction disorders. A prevailing view in psychiatry is that mental disorders cause sleep disruption. But Walker believes it is, in fact, a two-way street. Regulated sleep can improve the health of, for instance, those with bipolar disorder.

Ive mentioned deep sleep in this (too brief) summary several times. What is it, exactly? We sleep in 90-minute cycles, and its only towards the end of each one of these that we go into deep sleep. Each cycle comprises two kinds of sleep. First, there is NREM sleep (non-rapid eye movement sleep); this is then followed by REM (rapid eye movement) sleep. When Walker talks about these cycles, which still have their mysteries, his voice changes. He sounds bewitched, almost dazed.

During NREM sleep, your brain goes into this incredible synchronised pattern of rhythmic chanting, he says. Theres a remarkable unity across the surface of the brain, like a deep, slow mantra. Researchers were once fooled that this state was similar to a coma. But nothing could be further from the truth. Vast amounts of memory processing is going on. To produce these brainwaves, hundreds of thousands of cells all sing together, and then go silent, and on and on. Meanwhile, your body settles into this lovely low state of energy, the best blood-pressure medicine you could ever hope for. REM sleep, on the other hand, is sometimes known as paradoxical sleep, because the brain patterns are identical to when youre awake. Its an incredibly active brain state. Your heart and nervous system go through spurts of activity: were still not exactly sure why.

Does the 90-minute cycle mean that so-called power naps are worthless? They can take the edge off basic sleepiness. But you need 90 minutes to get to deep sleep, and one cycle isnt enough to do all the work. You need four or five cycles to get all the benefit. Is it possible to have too much sleep? This is unclear. There is no good evidence at the moment. But I do think 14 hours is too much. Too much water can kill you, and too much food, and I think ultimately the same will prove to be true for sleep. How is it possible to tell if a person is sleep-deprived? Walker thinks we should trust our instincts. Those who would sleep on if their alarm clock was turned off are simply not getting enough. Ditto those who need caffeine in the afternoon to stay awake. I see it all the time, he says. I get on a flight at 10am when people should be at peak alert, and I look around, and half of the plane has immediately fallen asleep.

So what can the individual do? First, they should avoid pulling all-nighters, at their desks or on the dancefloor. After being awake for 19 hours, youre as cognitively impaired as someone who is drunk. Second, they should start thinking about sleep as a kind of work, like going to the gym (with the key difference that it is both free and, if youre me, enjoyable). People use alarms to wake up, Walker says. So why dont we have a bedtime alarm to tell us weve got half an hour, that we should start cycling down? We should start thinking of midnight more in terms of its original meaning: as the middle of the night. Schools should consider later starts for students; such delays correlate with improved IQs. Companies should think about rewarding sleep. Productivity will rise, and motivation, creativity and even levels of honesty will be improved. Sleep can be measured using tracking devices, and some far-sighted companies in the US already give employees time off if they clock enough of it. Sleeping pills, by the way, are to be avoided. Among other things, they can have a deleterious effect on memory.

Those who are focused on so-called clean sleep are determined to outlaw mobiles and computers from the bedroom and quite right, too, given the effect of LED-emitting devices on melatonin, the sleep-inducing hormone. Ultimately, though, Walker believes that technology will be sleeps saviour. There is going to be a revolution in the quantified self in industrial nations, he says. We will know everything about our bodies from one day to the next in high fidelity. That will be a seismic shift, and we will then start to develop methods by which we can amplify different components of human sleep, and do that from the bedside. Sleep will come to be seen as a preventive medicine.

What questions does Walker still most want to answer? For a while, he is quiet. Its so difficult, he says, with a sigh. There are so many. I would still like to know where we go, psychologically and physiologically, when we dream. Dreaming is the second state of human consciousness, and we have only scratched the surface so far. But I would also like to find out when sleep emerged. I like to posit a ridiculous theory, which is: perhaps sleep did not evolve. Perhaps it was the thing from which wakefulness emerged. He laughs. If I could have some kind of medical Tardis and go back in time to look at that, well, I would sleep better at night.

Why We Sleep: The New Science of Sleep and Dreamsby Matthew Walker is published by Allen Lane (20). To order a copy for 17 go toguardianbookshop.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over 10, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of 1.99

Sleep in numbers

Two-thirds of adults in developed nations fail to obtain the nightly eight hours of sleep recommended by the World Health Organisation.

An adult sleeping only 6.75 hours a night would be predicted to live only to their early 60s without medical intervention.

A 2013 study reported that men who slept too little had a sperm count 29% lower than those who regularly get a full and restful nights sleep.

If you drive a car when you have had less than five hours sleep, you are 4.3 times more likely to be involved in a crash. If you drive having had four hours, you are 11.5 times more likely to be involved in an accident.

A hot bath aids sleep not because it makes you warm, but because your dilated blood vessels radiate inner heat, and your core body temperature drops. To successfully initiate sleep, your core temperature needs to drop about 1C.

The time taken to reach physical exhaustion by athletes who obtain anything less than eight hours of sleep, and especially less than six hours, drops by 10-30%.

There are now more than 100 diagnosed sleep disorders, of which insomnia is the mostcommon.

Morning types, who prefer to awake at or around dawn, make up about 40% of the population. Evening types, who prefer to go to bed late and wake up late, account for about 30%. The remaining 30% lie somewhere in between.

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