#PhD Data Collection

[pointconsultancydxb]

PhD Data Collection: Ensuring Accurate and Reliable Research Insights

PhD Data Collection is a critical step in conducting academic research, ensuring the foundation of your thesis or dissertation is built on precise and relevant data. PhD Data Collection requires meticulous planning, strategic methodology, and proper execution to gather accurate insights that align with the research objectives. Whether qualitative or quantitative, the process plays a pivotal role in shaping credible outcomes and supports the originality of your research.

For doctoral scholars, effective data collection is more than just gathering information; it involves understanding the nuances of the subject, selecting appropriate tools, and ensuring data reliability. By adhering to robust methodologies, PhD candidates can focus on drawing meaningful conclusions that enhance their academic standing and contribute to their field of study.

Key Aspects of PhD Data Collection

Planning and Preparation: A well-structured approach is necessary to identify the right sources, target demographics, and collection tools. From surveys and interviews to experimental data, preparation is key to success.

Ethical Considerations: Ensuring confidentiality and ethical practices in gathering data enhances the validity of the research. Ethical approval is a significant aspect, particularly when dealing with sensitive topics or human participants.

Advanced Tools and Techniques: Leveraging digital tools like statistical software, online survey platforms, and data visualization tools can streamline the collection process and enhance data accuracy.

Validation and Analysis: Collecting data is incomplete without validating its accuracy and suitability for the research. Proper analysis ensures the insights derived are aligned with your research hypotheses.

By focusing on quality and relevance, PhD Data Collection empowers researchers to contribute authentic and impactful findings to academia. Partnering with professional services that specialize in PhD research support ensures you have access to expert guidance throughout your academic journey.

Why Choose Professional PhD Data Collection Services?

Professional data collection services provide tailored solutions for PhD candidates, ensuring efficiency and accuracy. From crafting detailed survey designs to managing data analysis, experts help streamline the process while maintaining high-quality standards. Whether you're conducting case studies, longitudinal research, or cross-sectional studies, their expertise ensures comprehensive results.

In conclusion, the success of your PhD research heavily relies on the efficacy of your data collection strategies. With the right planning, tools, and guidance, you can elevate the credibility of your research and make a significant contribution to your academic domain.

[markresview]

PhD Data Collection Services Dubai: A Student’s Guide to Success

Embarking on a PhD journey is a thrilling yet overwhelming adventure. Every step, from crafting the proposal to defending your final dissertation, demands attention to detail. But let’s be real – one of the toughest hurdles is gathering solid, reliable data. This is where PhD Data Collection Services in Dubai come to the rescue.

Now, why exactly would you need help with data collection? Simple – time, accuracy, and expertise. When you’re neck-deep in literature reviews, theoretical frameworks, and writing chapters that seem endless, hunting down precise data can feel like scaling a mountain in flip-flops.

PhD Data Collection Services specialize in making life easier for students who need high-quality data but lack the resources or bandwidth to collect it independently. Imagine having someone handle surveys, conduct interviews, or dig through archives for you. Sounds dreamy, right? Well, it’s a reality in Dubai’s vibrant academic scene.

Let’s break it down. These services are run by professionals who understand research methodologies and are well-versed in ethical standards. Whether you’re conducting qualitative or quantitative research, these experts know the drill. They ensure the data collected aligns with your research objectives and fits seamlessly into your dissertation puzzle.

Another major win is the local expertise. PhD Data Collection Services in Dubai are familiar with regional trends, cultural nuances, and the do’s and don’ts of gathering information within the UAE. This localized knowledge can be a game-changer, especially if your research focuses on areas like business, education, healthcare, or social sciences.

One key thing to remember is customization. Not all data collection needs are the same. Some students require large-scale surveys distributed to hundreds, while others need in-depth case studies or focus groups. The best PhD Data Collection Services tailor their approach to suit your specific project. They adapt, pivot, and align their methods with your goals, ensuring no unnecessary data clogs your thesis.

Of course, quality control is crucial. The last thing you want is flawed or biased data sinking your hard work. Reputable services in Dubai pride themselves on accuracy and integrity. They often run pilot studies, test their tools, and refine their processes before diving into full-scale data collection. This ensures you receive data that’s not just good – but golden.

Let’s not forget the time factor. Pursuing a PhD is no sprint – it’s a marathon. By outsourcing data collection to experienced hands, you free up valuable hours to focus on analysis, writing, and, well, maybe even a bit of sleep. PhD Data Collection Services essentially act as time-savers, letting you progress faster without compromising quality.

Now, if you’re wondering about affordability, the good news is many services offer flexible pricing. Whether you need comprehensive data gathering or just a little extra help, there’s likely an option that fits your budget. And considering the long-term payoff – finishing your PhD on time and with flying colors – it’s often worth the investment.

[techvidyaedu]

Elevating Your Research: Comprehensive Ph.D. Services in Malaysia and South Africa

PhD Editing Services in South Africa:

In the final stages of your Ph.D., meticulous editing is essential for a polished thesis. TechVidya's editing services in South Africa ensure that your document adheres to the highest academic standards, refining language, formatting, and overall coherence.

Research Paper Writing Services in Malaysia:

TechVidya's expertise extends to crafting impactful research papers. In Malaysia, where research output is highly regarded, our services contribute to the scholarly dialogue. From conceptualization to publication, we guide you through the entire research paper writing process.

PhD Data Collection Services in Malaysia:

Effective data collection is integral to robust research. In Malaysia, our services assist Ph.D. candidates in designing and executing comprehensive data collection strategies, ensuring the reliability and validity of your findings.

PhD Questionnaire Services in Malaysia:

Crafting a well-structured questionnaire is crucial for effective data gathering. Our services in Malaysia specialize in developing tailored questionnaires that align with the unique requirements of your Ph.D. research.

PhD Manuscript Writing Services in Malaysia:

Turning your research into a publishable manuscript requires finesse. In Malaysia, TechVidya's manuscript writing services ensure that your work is presented coherently, contributing to the academic discourse in your field.In conclusion, TechVidya's suite of Ph.D. services is designed to empower scholars in Malaysia and South Africa, providing tailored support at every stage of the Ph.D. journey. From thesis writing to data analysis and manuscript preparation, our commitment is to elevate your research and contribute to your academic success. Follow us on Instagram.

[callstheadventurescience]

I have six full plates of PCR2 to do and I don't wanna. It's the world's worst game of battleship.

[tibonanj]

[Phd work 6 : collecting data]

Caribbean Vernacular Architecture, fretwork rooted in local or African history and symbolism.

See "Creole and vernacular architecture: embryonic syncretism in Caribbean cultural landscape", Patricia Elaine Green

[elodieunderglass]

But there must be a way to save hobelars in the cultural memory right? Can we reprint the document that has the poem?

Just yesterday, i had heard my friend say something along the lines of war is rock paper scissors and i accepted that without a second thought and your post about hobelars came at the right time to add delightful nuance. And i want to remember and share about hobelars

References: this post where I note, on a post about medieval mounted warfare that articulated this as knights and horses in armour charging pikemen, that the overlooked mounted unit of the “Irish” hobelar - a lightweight cavalry skirmisher, mounted nearly-bareback on pony-horses called hobbies - would have neatly fitted into the gaps in that narrative. Here’s another post about hobbies i wrote too.

By asking, you are doing the work. Thank you./.

In their time, hobelars were a useful unit of medieval warfare; originally in defending themselves against the English, and then used abroad against others. A contemporary poem, which describes the Siege of Calais, mentions a hobelar on a hobby, describing their fighting style; but the only copy of this poem on the internet is a single badly scanned document of a book from the 1840s that will be reasonably difficult (but not impossible!) to source on paper.

There have been a total two books written about hobelars - one in 1914, and one in 1954 - and they are mentioned in passages of two or three out-of-print books about medieval warfare. They have a Wikipedia article which contains incorrect information like claiming that the hobby is the same horse as the Connemara Pony (it isn’t.) There is one single medievalist who has published recently and sparsely on hobelars, and necessarily he does this by arguing with The 1914 and 1954 Guys. He has not brought in any horse knowledge or political connectedness to his theses, but he’s all I’ve got, so I cling to him like he clings to the other two guys.

Irish Hobbies, the hobelar’s little horses, fare a bit better. Before going extinct, they gave their name to “hobbies,” activities done for pleasure, and we still use “my hobbyhorse” to describe our personal passions. @mylittlehony , a Horse Expert, produced an incredible list of mentions of hobbies in sixteenth and seventeenth century literature, including in other languages, which is literally an advancement on the internet’s collective knowledge of hobbies. Any piece of work you’re doing here is a contribution.

Still, without any in-print documentation, or active scholars, or any interest in them at all, they’re a very niche hobby! As I said in the post you’re asking about, a well-placed EMP could destroy all of our knowledge of hobelars and prevent us from making connections to recover them. .

To answer your question? That’s what PhDs are for. That’s what they’re supposed to give to humanity. Spending three years of dedicated research time, learning and gathering all the sources available, and collecting every lost scrap of data about hobbies and hobelars that has been scattered and lost. We know they’re in the quartermasters’ receipts, where they were described as cheap units without special equipment; we know that an English king specifically prevented hobbies being exported to Scotland fight against him, because they would have granted the Scottish an advantage. There are documents that mention them sidelong and sideways and misspelled, and a PhD could delightfully be spent fossicking about in libraries and archives and museums, working out exactly what their “darts” were like, and whether hobbies ambled or paced, and what social class hobelars had been in Ireland, and how far they made it in Wales, and whether they WERE the missing piece of European horse archers, and whether hobbies DID come from Spain, and maybe even whether the Thoroughbred racehorse has any hobby in them at all. The person doing this PhD could probably recover the shape of the extinct horse, the fighting style of the rider, and so on.

And they’d publish their papers, and their thesis, and on the Internet and in the backups and in the journals and in the great library of their Alma Mater and in their own home, that knowledge would be stored and connected, networked and made accessible, known and signposted, forever. Resilient to loss, resistant to disruption, a piece of work to add to humanity’s grain store - designed and destined to outlive you.

That’s what a PhD is. That’s why they’re meant to be done.

Why haven’t they already? Obscurity, probably; and as I’ve written, medievalists tend to take the tone of English and French kings to dismiss Celtic influence as primitive and negligible. There have to be intersecting spheres of nerdery to make the person who will take this on. They will probably have to be a horsegirl first, a medievalist second, and probably from a Celtic culture themselves, to better pierce through the political layerings; they ought to be the kind of nerd who gladly takes on the case of the underdog; and, ideally, be someone with a lot of hobbies. Just as you can see the missing shape of the hobelar, you can see this person and know that someday they may answer the call.

(Possibly even because of these posts. That’s, secretly, part of why I write them like I do. They’re not ragebait or clickbait; they’re go-to-grad-school-about-it-bait. I hope to catch someone someday.)

But in the absence of some person taking on this PhD, here’s how I’m doing my part.

The reason I am tumblr’s biggest hobelar apologist is because I have a character in a larger writing project who is a time-ghost of a hobelar and his hobby. They appear in a pattern in the story, which is called Throw Your Heart Over, based on the saying for jumping: throw your heart over the hurdle and your horse will follow it.

I toy with the idea of The Hobelar being the originator of the saying, after jumping a notable hurdle on his hobby.

But it won’t be enough to just self-publish an ebook about it, especially since it won’t break containment. The best way to get a correct answer on the Internet is to post a slightly wrong answer, in a tone of authority, and have everyone pile in on you for the joy of being the one to correct you.

So I’m going to write something provocative and tantalisingly incorrect-sounding about hobelars, just to provoke and annoy. It will have to be ragebait of unparalleled mastery. I will have to construct a scene that is SO WRONG, and somehow get the story SO IMPOSSIBLY POPULAR, that hopefully someone will be forced to do, like, a YouTube essay to horsesplain my sins to me, and THEN they’ll discover that first they must do a PhD.

And when they call me out, after four years of study, and tell me I have no idea what I’m talking about, I will lower my eyelashes demurely 🫦 and say oh dear what a shame if people started acting like they’d always known about hobelars because of all this, and a breeding project started trying to recreate the extinct Irish Hobby, and a video game came out about them or something, or anything. if I fuck it up again will you do more? Do you prommy??

So I’ll say: once upon a time, Killie’s ancestor was a hobelar. And he fucked up - or something, I don’t know what yet - and he asked his hobby to jump a pike-wall -

And the people will be jumping up and down saying THAT CAN’T BE RIGHT- he wasn’t there, he wasn’t wearing that, he didn’t ride that way, he probably wasn’t barefoot, NOBODY CAN JUMP A PIKEWALL, that can’t be right!!

And i said: none of this was right-! It’s a story about generational trauma. Nobody should have been there. And he grabbed mane, and asked for the jump, and the horse didn’t want to, but she trusted him -

And it didn’t happen, and it didn’t happen like that -

And it didn’t happen, and it didn’t happen like that -

And people will say: it never could have happened, and CERTAINLY not like that -

And I’ll say - and everyone else should say this too - make an OC or tell a story or find some way to hang on: some of what our ancestors gave us was garbage!! Some is useful!! Some should be lost and some should be kept!! And if academia won’t keep it then we will! Until they come and do it better!

We’ll all say together: he threw his heart over and she follows it still; and they’ll never land! and they’ll never land!!!!

[redgoldsparks]

It's Right to Read Day, celebrating libraries, highlighting the relentless attacks against them, and encouraging folks to take at least one action to defend them! The American Library Association's data on the most banned books from 2024 is now out; after 3 years in the top spot GENDER QUEER came in at second on the list with George M Johnson's beautiful queer memoir ALL BOYS AREN'T BLUE at number one. If you haven't read it yet, please go pick up this book.

Unfortunately, instead of dying down, we are now seeing the book ban movement morph into an effort to defund and destroy ALL public libraries and ALL public education, as exemplified by the Trump Administration aiming to dismantle the Department of Education and placing all employees of the Institute of Museum and Library Services on administrative leave. The IMLS is an independent federal agency that provides grants to libraries and museums across the country. According to the American Library Association, the IMLS provides “the majority of federal library funds.” The IMLS says it awarded $266 million in grants and research funding to cultural institutions last year. This money goes to help staff, fund maintenance, and create new programs. If you are curious how the termination of this grant funding will effect the state of California, here is a press release from the California State Library. Please call your state governor and representatives asking them to demand support for the IMLS!

I also wanted to share some resources to help you talk about book bans/book challenges if the topic comes up in conversation. There are a set of really common bad faith arguments which book banners make, and I helped write up a set of responses for Authors Against Book Bans (much of this was also written and compiled by superstar author and AABB leader Maggie Tokuda-Hall). Below the responses to bad faith arguments are a list of resources you can contribute to, especially if you live in a blue state and don't have a current legislative battle over books and libraries in your own backyard.

What to Say When They Say What They Always Say: an Authors Against Book Bans resource

I haven’t read this book but I don’t think it’s appropriate for children! 

Please read the full book before you judge it. Passages are often presented without context. 

So you want kids to have access to porn?

No. And if that is a concern of yours as a parent, install browser filters such as Google SafeSearch on your children’s devices to keep them from accessing the wealth of pornography available to them on the internet. It’s already illegal to bring pornography into schools. There are robust safeguards– from laws, to industry standards in publishing and librarianship and education– to safeguard our children from obscene materials, as determined by the Miller Test. 

What about parents’ rights?

Parents already have robust rights in their children’s education. When that means limiting access to certain books parents can do so; nearly all schools have policies to this effect. But what about all the parents who WANT their kids to have access to books? Their children should not be limited by what another parent in the community decides for their own family. And what if a parent wants to limit their child’s access to something that child would benefit from? What about the child’s rights? Children are people, not possessions of their parents.

If my taxes fund the schools and libraries, I should have a say in how they’re used.

Schools and libraries serve entire communities, not just those who agree with you. Libraries and schools have professional educators and librarians with PhDs who are trained to curate collections that serve diverse populations, not just one viewpoint.

LGBTQ+ books confuse kids or make them gay/trans. They push an agenda.

LGBTQ+ representation is not an “agenda”—it’s simply a reflection of real people’s lives. If books featuring LGBTQ+ characters are “pushing an agenda,” then books featuring straight relationships or cisgender characters are as well. Reading about something does not automatically change a person’s identity, just as reading about astronauts does not turn every child into an astronaut. Reading about LGBTQ+ characters can both help kids understand themselves and build empathy and understanding towards others.

I live California. Why should I care about book bans if they’re not happening here?

We are fortunate to live in a state where book banning on the basis of discrimination has been outlawed through AB1825, which passed in 2024. However, California has still seen numerous book challenges in cities like Huntington Beach, Burbank, Lodi, and Chico—some of which continue efforts to overturn these protections. While bans are worse in red states, they still happen in blue states. Book bans are about control—not protecting children. The people banning books today will censor other forms of speech tomorrow. The right to read is a fundamental civil liberty, and we should protect it accordingly.

How Can I Help from a Blue State? For the biggest bang for your buck, we recommend  that you donate to the grassroots organizations making a difference in the places where the bans are happening all the time. All the ACLU chapters listed here are currently involved in lawsuits against book banners. 

We suggest:

Florida Freedom to Read Project: https://www.fftrp.org/donate 

Texas Freedom to Read Project: https://www.txftrp.org/donate 

Honesty for Ohio Education: https://www.honestyforohioeducation.org/donate.html 

Diversity Awareness Youth Literacy Organization (DAYLO) in South Carolina: https://patconroyliterarycenter.org/donate-today-to-pat-conroy-literary-center/ 

Students Engaged in Advancing Texas (SEAT): https://www.studentsengaged.org/donate 

San Francisco’s Books Not Bans!: https://givebutter.com/booksnotbans 

Coeur D’Alene Public Library in Idaho: https://cdalibrary.org/donate/ 

Let Utah Read: https://www.fundlibraries.org/letutahread

Tennessee ACLU: https://www.aclu-tn.org/en/donate 

South Carolina ACLU: https://action.aclu.org/give/support-aclu-south-carolina 

Southern California ACLU: https://action.aclu.org/give/support-aclu-socal 

Iowa ACLU: https://action.aclu.org/give/support-aclu-iowa 

Fight for the First helps start grassroots groups all across the country: https://secure.actblue.com/donate/fightforthefirst 

EveryLibrary (is a national org, but they financially support many of the groups listed here, as well as AABB): https://www.everylibrary.org/donate 

You can also call your state reps to express your commitment to protecting the freedom to read. Protections in blue states are just as contagious as bans in red states. The more of us who have them, the more states will follow suit. Use the 5Calls app do this, or find your rep here: https://findyourrep.legislature.ca.gov/ 

And of course- if you are an author, editor, illustrator, cartoonist, translator, anthology editor, self-published author, please join Authors Against Book Bans! We could use the help! If you want to help recruit to AABB, feel free to print and pass out my recruitment zine at any literary event you attend <3

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Hey, you! Do you work in STEM at an academic institution (as a student, teacher, researcher, etc.)? Then you should take this survey!

It's being conducted by PhD candidate Rin Krichilsky at Columbia University; the goal is to collect quantitative data on experiences across departments, institutions, and levels of the academic hierarchy (faculty, grad students, undergrads)the results will contribute to a write-up on advocating for safer STEM environments. The survey is 100% anonymous, and all the questions are optional. It only takes a few minutes, so I highly encourage anyone learning or working in STEM to fill it out-- especially if you're trans!

[lau219]

Tell Me The Truth

•• Jonathan Crane x Reader ••

Story note: Thiopental is the proper name for what’s more commonly known as “truth serum.” It works by slowing the brain’s higher levels of functioning, making coming up with lies or fabricating complicated stories difficult for a person.

***!!!Warning: Mature sexual content, mentions/use of needles, blood, drug administration/drug influence, reader vulnerability/loss of some defenses and control, 18+ readers only, minors DNI!!!***

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Y/N! Wait up!”

Looking over her shoulder, Y/N saw one of the lab technicians, Terry, jogging towards her down the wide hallway. He was coming from the lab office where they’d just been talking, and as he approached and got closer, Y/N smiled, and when he stopped in front of her, she raised her eyebrows.

“Is there something we forgot to review?” she asked him, still smiling.

“No,” he shook his head, catching his breath after the jog through the wing of the building, “but you forgot this,” he said, lifting his hand and revealing her access key card he held between his fingers. “You left it on the counter in the lab.”

Her eyebrows raising again in surprise, Y/N reached out to take the key card from him.

“Oh, gosh! Thanks so much! I’m gonna need that later.”

“You mean tomorrow,” he suggested in correction. “You’ll need it tomorrow.”

“No,” Y/N replied with a shake of her head. “I mean tonight. I’ve still got some work to do after I drop these documents off in Dr. Crane's office. I need to sort through the results of the latest trial he conducted for that proposed new version of Thiopental, and then I have to go back to the lab and begin dosing out the vials of it for the next trial.”

“How many trials is he going to do?” Terry asked.

“Just these two,” Y/N replied. “The first was to track the physical effects and duration of those effects, as well as efficacy. This next trial is to assess the intensity of effect and the average recovery time. We’re hoping this version of the drug won’t leave patients feeling as spacey and out of it for as long as the original version typically does.”

“I see,” Terry replied with a nod of his head. “Who else do you have working on this with you?”

Y/N shook her head.

“No one; just me,” she then replied.

“Geez, Crane really likes to work you, doesn’t he?” Terry responded.

“It’s not like that,” Y/N said. “He allows plenty of other people to be involved in running the trials and collecting the data. It’s just that when it comes to interpreting the data and getting everything organized for the trials, he wants me to do it.”

“He keeps you on a pretty short leash,” Terry countered.

“No,” Y/N said again. “He’s giving me the opportunity I need, which is to gain firsthand experience and knowledge. This is exactly the kind of stuff I need to be involved in as I work towards my PhD. It’s what’s entailed in being a research assistant.”

“I don’t see him making anyone else work after 5:00 p.m. on a consistent basis,” Terry said then. “But you’re always here late.”

“He doesn’t make me; I do it on my own accord.” Y/N replied.

“Why?” Terry asked with a skeptical raise of his brow. “It’s not like he’s a joy to work with. It surely can’t be his personality that keeps you hanging around. The guy couldn’t be less inviting or more clinical. Has he ever even thanked you or acknowledged what you do?”

“Terry,” Y/N said, admonishing him for criticizing Dr. Crane. “He’s a brilliant doctor and an ingenious pharmaceutical developer. It’s only natural for him to be very clinically focused. But, truly, he’s not as cold as you make him sound. He’s just...focused.”

“You know, your face always flushes whenever you talk about him,” Terry said teasingly with a smirk as he looked at Y/N. “In your eyes, he can do no wrong. Does your defense of him have anything to do with the fact that you so obviously have a crush on him?”

Blushing even deeper than she apparently already was, Y/N’s jaw slightly dropped in surprise.

“I do NOT!” she insisted, hugging the files she was holding to her chest.

“Please, Y/N, it’s all too obvious. We all work in pretty close quarters in that lab; it’s hard to miss the way you look at him whenever he’s in there with us. And if that’s so obvious in the lab, I can only imagine how much more you fawn over him when it’s just the two of you in his office.”

“I do NOT fawn!” Y/N denied again. “I’m his assistant. I’m supposed to pay close attention to him and help him in any way that I can.”

Of course, though, Terry was right. Y/N’s loyalty to Dr. Crane and his work was genuine, but it was one hundred percent correct that she had a hopeless crush on the doctor as well. He was incomprehensibly smart, dedicated to his work, and constantly developing something new in the field – he was so accomplished. He was also insanely handsome and sexy (although he seemed to be unaware of that fact), and although he displayed a quite cold, clinical demeanor ninety-eight percent of the time, there were glimpses of affection that he’d shown Y/N here and there over the last year, and it was enough to get her imagination running for all sorts of different scenarios. How many times had she imagined those lips of his on hers? His hands gripping her waist while she was bent over the lab counter?

Admittedly, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, there was something else about him that spoke to her as well. He had a kind of...intimidating way about him that made her feel things. Almost like a slight hint of menacing or danger that made her both nervous and excited when around him. It was like he was balancing between remaining composed and becoming something a bit darker...equally as ready to either praise her or punish her, depending on whether or not she pleased him. And she always tried very hard to please him.

“You’re like his little pet, you know?” Terry continued then. “He snaps his fingers, and you—”

“Mr. Hall!” a very familiar voice suddenly called out from down the way, cutting into their conversation, and both Y/N and Terry turned to see Dr. Crane standing several yards away, briefcase in hand as he looked at Terry.

“You’re supposed to be in the lab right now, are you not?” he spoke again, his voice still raised slightly for them both to hear. “I don’t believe we’re paying you to ignore your responsibilities and distract my staff, so kindly say your goodbyes to Miss Y/L/N and get back to work.”

Turning back to face Terry, Y/N gave him a look that was a cross between apologetic and sympathetic.

“Don’t worry; I’ll tell him you were just bringing me my key card,” she whispered to him.

“Won’t matter,” Terry replied with slight resentment, briefly eyeing Crane again over Y/N’s shoulder. “But maybe if you slip in a good word for me when the two of you are making out later, that might change his mind.”

“Shh! Don’t say things like that! Someone could hear you!” Y/N said in a somewhat panicked voice. “If a rumor starts going around that he and I—”

“Miss Y/L/N!” It was now Y/N’s turn to be called on by the doctor, but when she turned her head again and looked at him, he said nothing further, just gave her an expectant look and remained firmly where he stood.

“I gotta go; thanks for bringing me my card,” she whispered again as she quickly turned back to Terry for the last time. Then she grabbed the key card from his still outstretched hand and closed her fingers around it, turning around once more and briskly walking towards Dr. Crane with her files still clutched to her chest with her other arm. Crane continued to hold her gaze as she approached him, and as she reached him, instead of staying where he was, he began to walk again, Y/N following alongside him with still hurried steps as she spoke.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Crane, that was my fault, not Terry’s,” she said as they made their way down the hallway. “I left my key card in the lab, and he was bringing it to me, that’s all.”

“And it took you ten minutes to take a card out of his hand?” Jonathan replied, still keeping his eyes forward. “We have a schedule to keep, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Swallowing somewhat nervously, Y/N glanced sideways at him. He seemed even more no-nonsense than he usually did, and while she had just defended him to Terry, Jonathan’s aura was admittedly chilly today – she could feel it coming from him, and it was beyond just being clinical. He almost seemed mad that she’d been talking to Terry. But then again, he was never what one would call “warm”, except for the very rare occasions when he’d show Y/N the slightest bit of fondness. Something she’d never seen him reveal to anyone else.

As they continued through the building and made their way to Crane’s office, they discussed some details of the latest trial for the Thiopental, Y/N thumbing through several papers while speaking. As she spoke, Jonathan was only half listening, more so occupied with the anger and jealousy he’d felt upon seeing Y/N with Hall. And even though he knew that Y/N had no interest in the man, that didn’t stop the green monster from peeping its ugly head out. Even the doctor most trained in the reasoning behind mental and emotional responses still couldn’t stop himself from getting jealous, and the fact that he knew Y/N had a loyal devotion to him didn’t make it any less anger-inducing when he saw the way Hall had looked at her. The rat had been trying to pick her up for months, and he just wouldn’t take the hint. Well, it was finally time to hammer home to both Y/N and Hall exactly who she belonged to.

Jonathan was fully aware of the secret interest Y/N had in him. He’d picked up on it almost immediately upon her employment with him. While she was very good at keeping it to herself and maintaining a professional front, Jonathan was an expert at assessing, evaluating, and teasing apart every small mannerism, tone of voice, nervous habit, trail of thought, unspoken implication, and a million other things a person might display. And while she was very work-driven and dedicated, he had still caught every stolen glance, every flush of her cheeks, bite of her lips, and inviting bit of body language from her. She’d unknowingly, unintentionally given herself away months and months ago, and Jonathan hadn’t overlooked one tiny bit of it.

He hadn’t acted upon it, though, and he’d – for the most part – maintained an extremely stoic, clinical demeanor with her; the same he offered the rest of the staff. Only rarely did he allow himself to slip slightly and express a tiny bit of affection towards her.

No; he hadn’t acted upon it — yet. Because he’d decided long ago that when he did act upon it, it would be with the knowledge and the tools to make sure she wouldn’t be able to do anything other than give in to him. She’d be open, helpless, submissive, and melting underneath every touch he gave her. That was exactly how he wanted her. That was how he’d wanted her from the start.

Normally, Jonathan was unaffected by most women. Typically, to him, they were dim, whiny, annoying, faint-hearted things that were inconvenient but ultimately necessary. Most of the women he encountered simply made his life more difficult in some way, and weren’t worth wasting his precious time or intelligence on. Sure, he had needs like any man did, but those were commonly satisfied with minimal talk and a quick fuck with a random stranger he’d meet at some psychology seminar, or an audience member at one of his lectures. He could force the charm in order to have the itch scratched, and then go back to mostly ignoring them.

But Y/N was an exception — an incredibly beautiful, innocent, intelligent, and devoted exception who had taken Jonathan by rare surprise as the first woman he’d met whom he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. Beyond her beauty, it was her obvious, sweet innocence and warmth that was a stark contrast to his clinical, calculated life. And he couldn’t let her get too friendly with anyone else, because as soon as he’d acknowledged to himself the effect she had on him, he immediately decided she’d be his. She was pure, innocent perfection who was always dying to please him, and no way would he lose this rare gem of a woman to some pathetic, average moron. No; she’d be his, and his alone.

His to corrupt, control, and break apart. Never before had the desire and the urge to possess a woman been so strong as it was with Y/N, and he wanted her to fold for him the same way he got each and every one of his patients to fold. Except with Y/N, she’d break down and surrender not from the suppressed memories Jonathan would make her recollect or the trauma she’d work through, but from the way he’d adoringly groom her perfection and desire to please while also calling out each naughty desire and secret thought she assumed he was completely oblivious to, but was, in fact, all too well aware of.

And he knew that that right there was why he was so drawn to her. A gorgeous, innocent woman he could groom and corrupt, who would hang on his every word and be naughty only for him. In Y/N, Jonathan saw the alluring contrasts in her of being so pure, yet also having such lustful, sexual desires. She was sweet yet tempting. A good girl, but with the yearning to be corrupted. It all tapped into his own exact fantasies and desires.

Of course, none of this had ever been voiced by her, but Jonathan had spent the last year analyzing everything about her, and he just knew that Y/N had a yet-to-be-tapped sexuality. He knew she was no virgin, but she also clearly had never let all her inhibitions go. And who better to help her do that than him? And their latest trial project would only help along the way. After all, as brilliant as Jonathan’s methods were, he had no qualms about a little liquid assistance to get Y/N there faster.

As they entered Jonathan’s office, Y/N did as she always did and sat at the computer at his desk. When they were together, Jonathan rarely sat there, instead having Y/N enter information and type up notes of whatever he would dictate to her while he sat in one of the chairs opposite his desk instead. Then she’d leave to hurry off to the lab to complete whatever work he’d assigned for her there, where he’d then check on her progress later on.

“Pull up the results of the latest trial for the Thiopental,” Jonathan told Y/N after she’d situated herself in his desk chair. “I want to compare the males’ reactions versus the females’.”

Obediently, Y/N clicked through a few screens before pulling up the records Crane was asking for. But upon opening the file, Y/N noticed that the total number of participants had been lessened by one. Rather than results from one hundred individuals – fifty males and fifty females – the final line in the female column had been deleted.

“Ummm, Dr. Crane, did the results get edited recently?”

Turning from across the room, Jonathan looked at Y/N as he replied.

“Why do you ask?” he said.

“Well, there are no longer fifty female entries like there were when we first received this data,” Y/N answered him. “There are now only forty-nine.”

Walking over to where Y/N sat, Jonathan stopped beside her and leaned over the desk. Of course, he knew exactly what was going on — he’d deleted the last female entry — but he hovered over Y/N and gently but firmly laid his hand on top of hers as he gripped it and moved the computer mouse with her.

“Let’s have a look,” he said softly beside her.

Y/N’s heart was pounding and her hand was warm beneath his. With him standing this close, she could smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body. It was both unnerving and inviting, and she dared not move as he remained close, although it was taking all her strength not to turn her head into his chest.

Jonathan could sense every nerve in Y/N’s body pulsing. It was the exact reaction he expected from her, and it was clear she was both nervous and aroused. As his eyes darted to her, he could nearly feel the softness of her hair in his fingers as he’d sweep it behind her shoulder and expose her neck. That porcelain skin of hers would have a trail of goosebumps wherever he’d touch her.

After briefly scrolling through the file with her and acting somewhat surprised, Jonathan stood up and pulled back, and then Y/N finally moved again, looking at him questioningly.

“Open my emails; perhaps there’s an explanation from someone in there,” he said to her.

Doing as he said, Y/N opened his emails and quickly found one with the subject line: “Thiopental Participant Withdrawn.” Upon reading it aloud to Crane, Y/N learned that one of the female participant’s results had been discarded due to the discovery that she had consumed alcohol within an hour of her participation. That wasn’t allowed, as they wanted results from people who had no other influencers in their systems at the time of the trial.

“Does this mean the entire study will have to be discarded?” Y/N asked Jonathan after she’d finished reading the email. Little did she know that he’d composed and sent the email to himself.

“No,” Jonathan replied as he looked at her, her beautiful face looking crestfallen. “We’ll just have to collect results from a new female participant within the same parameters of all the others: non-pregnant, non-smoking, without any heart defects or complications, and a system free of any other influencers, approved by their primary physician and conducted in a controlled environment.”

Nodding, Y/N looked down at her watch, noticing that it was already nearly the time most people went home for the day.

“I can ask around the lab tomorrow if any of the female staff would be willing to do it,” she said to him. “I’m sure I can find someone.”

“I’m sure you can,” Jonathan replied then, looking at her with that rare smile that left Y/N feeling both excited and nervous. “You never let me down, Y/N.”

Blushing fiercely with a shy little smile, Y/N could only hold his eyes for a moment before she had to look down. Only on the rarest occasions would he call her “Y/N” instead of “Miss Y/L/N”, and it always had the same effect on her.

“Well, I should get to the lab then and start preparing the vials for the next trial,” she said as she pushed his chair out from the desk and stood up, her face still flushed as she closed his laptop.

“Don’t forget your key card this time,” he said to her with another rare moment of affectionate teasing.

Lifting her eyes to look at him, Y/N once again gave him that shy little smile.

“I won’t.”

•.•.•.•.•

Despite the trial only requiring one hundred vials of the Thiopental, dosing them out was time consuming work. Not only did Y/N need to transfer milliliter after milliliter of the clear liquid into one hundred empty vials with a dropper, but they each then needed to be capped, sealed, labeled and packaged with an accompanying syringe needle.

After three hours of work, she’d finally made it to the last tray of empty vials, and she sat up straighter in her stool to momentarily stretch her back and rotate her neck. She shivered beneath her lab coat, the chilly air of the sterile, empty lab offering little warmth. She was just about to resume her work when she heard the door to the lab open behind her. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw Dr. Crane walk in, allowing the door to close behind him before he headed her way. What she didn’t realize is that he also ensured it was locked. Despite the fact that it was past 8:00 p.m. at this point, he wanted the guarantee of absolutely no interruptions.

“How’s it coming?” Jonathan asked her as he approached and then came to a stop beside her.

“Nearly finished,” Y/N replied, glancing back down to the vials before looking at Crane again.

“Well, perhaps it’s time for a little break,” he said as their eyes met once more. “I think I’ve come to a solution for our issue with the previous trial that will keep you from having to find a new participant.”

“Oh?” Y/N asked with interest, sitting up straighter in her stool. “How so?”

Looking at her intently, Jonathan spoke again.

“You can do it,” he said.

Furrowing her brow, Y/N shook her head in confusion.

“I can do what? You mean...me be the participant?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes,” Jonathan replied firmly, stepping slightly closer to her.

“But I...” Y/N began. She would never have expected Dr. Crane to suggest her being involved in this way. Wasn’t it some kind of foul for the individuals running the trial to be involved?

“But I’m involved in the study,” she continued then. “I can’t be a participant.”

“This is a study that’s simply tracking effect and reactions,” Jonathan replied, keeping his tone matter-of-fact. “There’s no issue of conflict or biases. We’re simply seeing how your body responds.”

Suddenly, Y/N’s heart began pounding. He was speaking as if he’d already decided she was going to do this, and it had her feeling nervous for some reason. Not unsafe, but just…

“I...I don’t think I should,” Y/N replied. “I mean, when would we even do this?”

“Right now,” Jonathan answered with certainty.

“Right now? But…but who’ll track the results? We have no one else here to record anything.”

Jonathan gave her an amused smile.

“I think I’m more than capable of keeping track of one woman’s responses to a single, one-time use drug, Y/N,” he said to her. “We don’t need anyone else.”

Her heart was still pounding, and she didn’t miss the fact that he used her first name again.

“I don’t have an approval from my primary physician — we have to provide that for them to consider the results valid and prove that it was done safely.”

Jonathan gave her another look.

“I’m a doctor, Y/N. I can properly administer a shot, and I can attest here and now that you’re in a safe environment and are a valid participant. That is, unless you’ve suddenly become pregnant, had a pacemaker implanted, or begun smoking since you were last in my office.”

Despite her nerves, Y/N couldn’t help but release a short laugh at Jonathan’s little joke as she looked down at her lap. It was odd to see him suddenly so...casual, but it was also very appealing. Her cheeks rosy, she looked up at him through her lashes.

“No, none of those things,” she said with a shy little smile.

“Then there’s no issue. I’ll administer it to you, observe the effects, and we’ll add the results to the trial. This way, we won’t waste time finding someone else and waiting for their physician’s note.”

“I…” Y/N didn’t know how to respond. She badly wanted to appease Jonathan, but she was also nervous. The idea of being so vulnerable in front of him was nerve-wracking. Granted, he would only be keeping track of things like her pulse, blood pressure, and reflexes, but what if she accidentally said or did something embarrassing?

“You’re perfectly safe with me, Y/N,” Jonathan assured her, his tone soft. He looked in her eyes and he could see the slight uncertainty, but more so the desire to please him. Just like always.

To Y/N’s surprise, Jonathan reached out then and gently laid a hand over hers.

“You know you can trust me, don’t you?”

Looking down at his hand on hers, Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. The mood in the room had changed entirely, and she wasn’t quite sure what was happening. But she knew she could never say no to him.

“Do you trust me?” Jonathan asked as she looked back up at him.

Taking in a deep breath, Y/N pulled herself out of falling into those eyes of his and quietly answered him, her hand still beneath his.

“Yes,” she said.

Slowly smiling, Jonathan squeezed her hand.

“Good girl,” he said.

Y/N blushed fiercely at his words, feeling incredibly nervous but also giddy and pleased at his praise. Again, this was a side of him that had only ever appeared in her private fantasies, and the fact that he was suddenly looking at her the way he was felt almost surreal.

Reaching up behind her on the shelf where the leftover vials of the Thiopental from the first trial sat, Jonathan pulled one down and set it on the lab counter. He then opened the container of supplies kept beneath the shelf and retrieved an alcohol swab and some rubber gloves. Still sitting in her stool, Y/N watched his every move.

Jonathan had her right where he wanted her, and he was even more in tune than usual with every silent signal Y/N was giving off. As he placed the supplies on the counter, he looked at her again.

“Sit up on the counter,” he softly ordered her. “Then your arms will be level with mine.”

Self-consciously, Y/N shifted, trying to be as graceful as possible in the skirt she was wearing. Bracing her palms behind herself on the ledge, she then hoisted herself up from the stool onto the countertop, scooting back slightly as her legs dangled over the edge. She was now at the same level as Jonathan, and she awkwardly cleared her throat as their eyes met again.

“Let’s lift this up, shall we?” Jonathan then said to her as he reached forward for the sleeve of her lab coat and pushed it up to reveal her forearm, folding it behind the bend of her elbow.

Goosebumps immediately appeared where Jonathan’s fingers brushed her skin as he adjusted her sleeve, and Y/N blushed, not looking at him but knowing there was no way he didn’t notice her reaction.

“Will you…I mean…we’re just tracking things like my vitals, right? That’s it?” Y/N asked him quietly as she watched Jonathan put the gloves on.

“Why?” he teased her then as their eyes met again. “Keeping some secrets, are we?”

Blushing again, Y/N couldn’t speak, instead only pursing her lips as she shook her head.

“Don’t worry,” Jonathan said then, “something tells me we’ll get the answers we’re looking for.”

Y/N’s heart pounded again at his words, not even knowing how to respond. She felt the way she always felt around him, both nervous and protected, but it was magnified by about a hundred, and although his words and actions were soft, Y/N still picked up on that hint of intimidation and danger he brought her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged the fact that she was squeezing her thighs together beneath her skirt.

He could see her pulse point at her neck jumping, and he spotted the tightening of her muscles as she squeezed her thighs together atop the counter. As he reached over her once more to grab a syringe and needle, he intentionally lingered, and he heard her inhale near his neck as he did, smiling to himself at her response to him.

Donning the rubber gloves, Jonathan then assembled the needle and syringe, then loaded it from the vial, Y/N's eyes on his every move. Setting the prepared syringe down momentarily, he then opened the packet containing the alcohol swab and then removed it, swiftly swiping it across Y/N's skin as she looked down at her arm. Goosebumps appeared again as she felt the cold piece of gauze on her skin.

Quickly disposing of the swab, Jonathan then retrieved the syringe once more, and just before bringing the needle to her skin, he gently grasped Y/N's arm with his free hand and looked at her.

"Ready?" he said, although it wasn't really a question.

Meeting his eyes, Y/N nervously bit her lip, but as she felt Jonathan gently squeeze her arm, she found herself nodding her permission.

Wincing at the sudden sting from the prick of the needle, Y/N briefly squeezed her eyes closed, but forced herself to inhale steadily as she felt the liquid enter her vein. Jonathan lifted his eyes from her arm to her face as he finished pushing the last of the dose through the syringe, and he smiled to himself once more as he knew it was now only a matter of minutes before he'd get everything out of her.

Gently retracting the needle from her arm, Jonathan placed a clean square of gauze over the site on her skin to catch any small bit of blood that may have followed, and Y/N automatically lifted her other hand to hold it there as Jonathan disposed of the syringe.

"Don't be nervous, sweetheart," Jonathan said as he saw Y/N watching him again, her face slightly pale and her nerves clearly affecting her. "You know exactly how all of this works."

Completely taken aback by the unexpected term of endearment, Y/N's heart raced again, and she felt both giddy and hazy. While it was supposed to take several minutes for the drug to reach full effect, she'd had no idea how quickly it would begin taking over her system. She already felt somewhat like she was functioning in slow motion, but with Jonathan's unexpected affection, her heart was still pounding like crazy.

"We'll just give that a minute to take full effect," he said then, very nonchalantly.

Still speechless, Y/N watched as he opened a cabinet off to the side and pulled out a pulse oximeter and electronic blood pressure cuff. Preparing to use each of them, Jonathan then shifted again and stood directly in front of her, and Y/N lifted her head to meet his eyes.

"How do you feel?" he asked her, the clinical tone back in his voice.

It took her a moment before she could respond, the words taking their time to travel from her brain to her lips.

"Slow," she said simply as she looked back at him. "Everything feels slow."

Nodding, Jonathan picked up the items he'd retrieved from the cabinet. He spoke as he placed the oximeter on her finger. Although he had no real intention of tracking any of this, he wanted to give her another minute to absorb everything. After the oximeter beeped with her numbers, he placed the blood pressure cuff on her wrist.

"How about now?" Jonathan lifted his eyes from the display on the cuff to Y/N's gaze. "Your heart's racing. Not common, seeing as this typically causes the opposite effect on heart rate. What's got you so nervous, hmm?"

Y/N felt somewhat cloudy, still fully functional, but once again in almost a slow motion way, as if everything she thought and did took twice as long. After registering his question, she answered Jonathan with the first thing that came to her mind.

"You," she said simply.

Jonathan smiled, giving her a look that only intensified her pulse, and he then reached up and removed his glasses, placing them in the breast pocket of his blazer.

"Me?" he questioned her teasingly. "Do I make you nervous, Y/N?"

"Yes," she answered after a beat, still looking at him. She found that if she tried to turn her head too fast, it made her feel woozy.

"Hmm," said Jonathan, and then he reached down and slowly unstrapped the cuff from her wrist.

Thoughtlessly lowering her arm, Y/N took another deep breath, feeling her pulse in her veins.

"Let's just start with the typical questions," Jonathan said then, and although he'd told her they'd only be monitoring her vitals and outward reactions, Y/N had no ability or desire to stop him from asking her anything.

"Tell me your full name and date of birth," Crane said as he looked at her. After a moment's beat, Y/N responded with the (obviously) correct answers.

"And what's your home address?"

Again, she rattled off the information after a second's pause.

"Now tell me, how long have you worked for me?" Jonathan said then, his tone changing slightly.

"Just over a year," Y/N replied, and then she noticed somewhere in the back of her mind that she was beginning to feel very hot.

"Right. And for how long of that year have you had sexual thoughts about me, Y/N?"

Despite her body heat, Y/N could feel her face suddenly blanching, but as she processed his question, there was only one possible outcome: the truth.

"The entire time," she said, and she felt the blush creep back over her skin as the words left her mouth.

"Are you surprised that I just asked you that question?" Jonathan asked then, that smile of certainty taking over his face again.

"Yes," Y/N answered, her heart skipping a beat as she saw him smile. She was now fully aware that she was powerless to say anything but the truth.

Reaching out to her then, Jonathan gently laid a palm on Y/N's thigh and slowly slid it up her leg, over the fabric of her skirt. Then their eyes met again.

"You thought I didn't know, didn't you?" he affectionately teased her, his voice soft and his gaze intense as he looked at her. Somehow, his entire aura was contradictorily both soothing and intimidating, and Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as he stepped even closer.

Automatically, and feeling somewhat hazy, she spread her legs to allow Jonathan to stand between them, and as he did, he reached up and gently grasped her chin, stroking it with his thumb as he looked down at her. Nervously, Y/N's eyes kept darting between his eyes and his lips, her heart pounding and her body flushed as he spoke again.

"Trust me, sweetheart, I knew. I've known all along."

His affectionate words and his touch once again caused Y/N's heart to race, and she felt both embarrassed and helpless, but also immediately aroused.

"I'm sorry," she heard herself say suddenly, and Jonathan, still grasping her chin, looked at her with that unnerving affection.

"Sorry for what?"

"For thinking about you like that," she said. "I tried not to."

Chuckling, Jonathan released her chin, instead planting each of his palms on top of her thighs.

"You don't have to apologize," he spoke soothingly, giving a small shake of his head. "After all, why apologize for something we both want?"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, and she felt a dampness forming in her panties as Jonathan squeezed her thighs.

"You're quite the little eye-catcher yourself, Y/N," he responded. "I've spent the last year watching every move you make, every look and unspoken hint. And never before has anyone caught my attention quite like you."

Floored at this admission, Y/N could only say one thing.

"Really?"

Chuckling again, Jonathan leaned in closer to her.

"Isn't that what you were always hoping to hear?" he asked her.

Her eyes quickly darting to his lips, Y/N then responded.

"Yes," she answered him. "I wanted to be perfect for you. I wanted you to want me."

Immediately, Jonathan's cock twitched in his pants at her admission. Despite knowing this information already, nothing beat hearing it come straight from her lips.

"And is that still what you want now?" he pushed her.

She nodded her head.

"Yes."

Smiling again, Jonathan pulled back from her slightly, noting the heat radiating from her body.

"You're burning up," he said as his eyes dropped to the buttons on her lab coat.

"I'm hot," she confirmed mindlessly.

"I can see that," Jonathan replied.

"Is that bad?" she asked, concern momentarily replacing the desirous look on her face.

"It's expected," Jonathan dismissed with a shake of his head. "Your body's trying to compensate for the delayed response signals by sending blood through your system more quickly."

"I'm hot," she repeated dumbly, unable to comprehend enough of what Jonathan had said, as her brain was processing everything slower.

"We can take care of that," Jonathan replied, and he reached up and began undoing the buttons on her lab coat. He intentionally went slowly, savoring the moment of finally undressing her as he'd imagined a million times.

After her coat was open, Jonathan reached up again and slipped his hands underneath the shoulders, slowly pushing it off her and down her arms. Silently, Y/N turned her head and watched as his hands pushed the coat off her body. But instead of stopping there, Jonathan then lifted his hands once more and hovered them over the buttons of her blouse.

"Should we take this off, too?" he asked her — again, less so for permission and more so just to hear her response.

"Yes," she replied, and nodded her head.

As Jonathan worked at the new set of buttons, the porcelain skin of Y/N's chest and the lace of her black bra was gradually revealed, causing Jonathan's cock to stiffen further.

“Have you thought about me undressing you before, Y/N?”

She could feel his cool fingertips grazing her skin as he worked down her chest.

“Yes,” she replied. Her heart was pounding and her nipples stiffening at his question.

“And when you think about that, how does it make you feel?”

Of course, there was still nothing she could do but tell the truth. As badly as her mind wanted to come up with an answer that wouldn't embarrass her, she couldn't form the fib; she could only voice facts.

"Excited," she replied, "but nervous, too. I like to think about it."

"What else do you like to think about?" Jonathan urged her as he undid the last button on her blouse. Y/N's face flushed again as she answered him.

"You kissing me and touching me. I think about having sex with you and what it would be like."

"And do you enjoy those thoughts?" Jonathan placed his palms back on her thighs, her blouse hanging open.

"Yes," she replied.

"Why?"

"Because I like you. You’re so smart and accomplished, and you’re intimidating, too, but I like that. And you’re so handsome and sexy. When I’m around you, you make me feel safe but also scared at the same time. I like that. I think about what you'll do to me."

"And what do you think I'll do to you? Tell me."

Again, Y/N was helpless to anything but the truth.

"You'll kiss me. Touch me everywhere. I think about your hands on my breasts. Or your lips on me. You'll put your fingers inside me, and then your cock. You'll pull my hair or spank me. You'll fuck me and make me come. Then you'll come inside me."

He could see the shock and embarrassment on Y/N’s face as she heard herself uncontrollably admit everything out loud, and after each mini declaration she made, Jonathan's cock stiffened further.

Lifting his hands to Y/N’s shoulders once more, he slipped them under her blouse and pushed it off her, fully revealing inch after inch of her flawless skin, enhanced by the contrast of her feminine, lacy black bra. Her breasts molded perfectly to the cups and he could see her hardened nipples through the material.

"And how about if I tell you to do something? Would you do it?" Jonathan prompted her.

"Yes," Y/N said.

"You want to please me, don't you, Y/N? Make me happy with you? Do anything I say?"

"Yes."

"You just want to be my good girl, don't you?"

"Yes," Y/N nodded at that, feeling her body flush again. "I want to be yours."

Lifting his hands to her face, Jonathan cradled Y/N's cheeks in his palms and looked in her eyes as he spoke.

"I want that, too," he said. "And we can make that happen. Would you like me to fuck you right now?"

Y/N nodded again, having a hard time believing this was actually happening. "Yes."

Lowering one hand from her face and moving the other lower, he grasped her chin again and held her eyes as he spoke.

"You're going to be a good girl for me, Y/N. You're going to let me do everything to you that I want. You're going to show me how much you enjoy it. You belong to me, do you understand that?"

"Yes," Y/N replied, her heart pounding at Jonathan's words. Unintentionally, she slightly arched her back, subtly pushing her chest out towards him.

Jonathan smiled again.

"So eager," he cooed. "You've been mine all along, haven't you?"

"Yes; always," Y/N said.

At that, Jonathan lifted his hands once more and reached behind her, making quick work of opening her bra clasp. As the garment loosened around her, he traced his fingers up her arms and hooked them under her straps, hesitating for a moment as he savored her reaction.

"Shall we take this off?" he teased her.

"Yes," she answered quickly, her voice sounding desperate. "Please!"

Jonathan shook his head with another smile.

"Always so well-mannered. My good girl."

Pulling the bra from her chest, Jonathan dropped it to the floor and his eyes were glued to her breasts. They were plump, pert perfection, her nipples hardened from equally both arousal and the chill of the cold, sterile laboratory.

"Do you want my hands on you, Y/N?" he asked her, his palms already only centimeters away from touching her.

"Yes," she nodded fervently.

Immediately, Jonathan cupped her breasts, squeezing her flesh as it filled his hands and stroking her eager nipples with his thumbs. With every swipe along her buds, Y/N released a tiny gasp, arching into his touch.

"You like that, don't you?" Jonathan asked her as he lifted his eyes to hers. He could feel his cock straining against his pants as he watched her arch into him again.

"Yes," she replied. "I don't want you to stop."

Jonathan shook his head.

"We're not stopping until I have you coming, sweetheart," he said to her soothingly. "That's what you want, isn't it? For me to make you come?"

"Yes," she replied, and she squeezed her thighs together again.

"Then let's make that happen."

His hands still on her breasts, Jonathan leaned forward and pressed his lips to Y/N's, her eyes fluttering closed as he came closer. As soon as his lips came in contact with hers, she released an audible sigh with a little whimper, and when Jonathan stroked her nipples again as their lips moved together, she leaned into him even more.

He started off gentle, but soon, Jonathan was kissing her with more aggression, the sounds of her desirous desperation and her needy reaction spurring him on. After a moment, he felt her squirming beneath him, and he pulled back to look at her.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"I..." Y/N blushed again. "I want to touch you."

Jonathan smiled.

"Then touch me," he said, then leaned in again and connected their lips once more.

Whimpering again, Y/N lifted hers arms to Jonathan's neck, wrapping them around his shoulders as she scooted closer to him. Her bare breasts rubbed against the scratchy fabric of his blazer, and as she leaned into him, Jonathan lowered his hands to her hips and pulled her to the edge of the counter. Her fingers hovering over the nape of his neck, she suddenly tangled them in his hair and tugged in surprise as she felt Jonathan squeeze her hips.

Pulling away from her once more, Jonathan grabbed the fabric of her skirt and slowly began pushing it up her thighs, watching her every reaction as he did so.

"Let's see just how excited you are," he said. He then pushed her skirt the final inches to bunch it up around her hips, revealing her smooth thighs and the black panties clothing her pretty little mound.

"Spread your legs for me, Y/N," Jonathan ordered her, and she obediently responded, parting her thighs fully to reveal herself. The subtle yet obvious patch where her arousal had temporarily stained the fabric of her panties darker immediately causing another smirk to cross Jonathan's face.

"So wet, aren't you?" he affectionately teased her. "So wet and so ready." He hovered his fingers over her. "Do you want my fingers?"

Her breath hitched slightly before she answered.

"Yes," she said in a breathy reply. "I want them inside me."

Slowly, Jonathan skimmed his fingertips over the fabric of her panties, eliciting a whimper and a thrust of her hips as Y/N felt him touch her. He then lifted his fingers to the hem of her panties and hooked them inside. Instinctively, Y/N briefly lifted herself off the counter to allow him to remove them, but then her mind was completely blank when she suddenly felt Jonathan's fingers delve inside her dripping folds.

"Ohhhhh," she moaned, and her hips thrusted again as Jonathan curled his fingers inside her, the lewd sounds of her wetness accenting the air as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her.

Her pussy was soft, pink perfection, and Jonathan curled his fingers again as she moaned over and over.

"You're not just wet; you're soaking," he said to her, his cock now rock hard as he watched his fingers moving in and out of her. Whining again, Y/N grasped the edge of the counter with her hands and slightly leaned back, pushing her lower half closer to Jonathan, seeking more of his touch.

"Such a needy girl," Jonathan said. "You want more, don't you?"

"Yes," she nodded, her face twisting in pleasure as Jonathan pumped his fingers faster. "More." She was panting now.

"Just wait until you get my cock, sweetheart. You're going to let me fuck you, aren't you?"

"Yes," Y/N answered, her pussy clamping around his fingers. When Jonathan curled them inside her once more and moved his index finger back and forth, an embarrassingly loud moan escaped her, the pleasure incredible as he hit that spot inside her.

"Next time, you’re gonna be bent over my desk," Jonathan said to her as he withdrew his fingers from inside her and swiped his thumb over her clit instead, eliciting another loud moan from her. "From now on, you’ll let me take you whenever and wherever I want. Do you understand me, Y/N?"

"Yes!" she cried out desperately as he swiped her clit again. Her head was still slightly foggy, and Jonathan's words had her ready to do anything he said. Her heart was racing as she met his eyes.

"You pretend to be so proper, but you're not. You want to be a naughty girl, don’t you?" Jonathan said.

"Yes!" Y/N cried again, Jonathan's thumb repeatedly circling her clit having her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head.

"You sound like a broken record,” Jonathan said then. "So beautifully pathetic." He ceased his ministrations then, and at the loss of his touch, Y/N was practically crying.

"Jonathan..." she breathed out in need, feeling so delirious that she didn't even realize she'd said his first name, which she'd never done before. "Jonathan, please!"

At the sound of his name falling from her mouth in that desperate, whiny voice, Jonathan was moving his hands to his belt, unfastening it and opening his pants, the clinking sound of the buckle sounding louder than it actually was in the otherwise empty lab. He then reached out and grasped Y/N's wrist, pulling her hand to his briefs and slipping her hand inside, guiding her palm to feel his bulging firmness.

"Please, what?" he said as he held her hand in place. "Is this what you want, Y/N? You want my cock?"

"Yes!"

"Where do you want it? Tell me."

"I want it inside me. I want to feel you fill me up."

Feeling the heat of Jonathan's stiff shaft, all she could think about was having him fuck her, and she knew that she would forever do whatever he told her as long as she could feel him inside her.

"I'm going to fill you," Jonathan assured then, roughly pulling her closer again and hovering his mouth over hers as he spoke. "And you're going to take everything I give you, do anything I tell you to. You're going to be my good girl. Always."

Jonathan caught the obedient little nod Y/N gave just before he connected their lips again, and as he did, he raised a hand to grasp one of her breasts again, massaging her and pinching her nipple before doing the same to her other breast, and then moving his mouth to her neck, sucking her flesh and following it with a soft kiss.

"Jonathan..." she breathed again.

"Are you ready, Y/N?" he said lowly against her neck. "I think you are."

"Yes," she breathlessly whispered again for what felt like the hundredth time that night, and Y/N felt her wetness nearly ready to drip from her folds as she heard Jonathan draw himself out of his briefs. But her weeping pussy was then immediately met with the feel of his hot tip prodding her entrance, and she whimpered again.

"You're so ready," she heard Jonathan say, and then she was suddenly momentarily thoughtless from the insane pleasure of his cock slamming inside her.

"Ahhhhhh!" she cried out, feeling like she was being split in two as Jonathan's hips became flush with her inner thighs. She desperately reached up and grasped the lapels of his blazer, the stars in her vision slowly disappearing as she continued to adjust to the feeling of him inside her.

"Ohhh, fuck, sweetheart," Jonathan groaned as he felt her walls clamp needily around his shaft. She milked him without even trying, and he immediately began thrusting in and out of her, unable to go slow any longer.

"Oh, God!" Y/N panted as she gripped his jacket tighter, instinctively wrapping her legs around Jonathan's waist as he began to move in and out of her. She clamped around him with each thrust, and she felt his fingers digging into her hips as she began to meet each of his thrusts with a rutting of her hips.

"That's my girl," Jonathan said roughly as he continued to fuck her. “Taking me so well."

Her chest was heaving, and Jonathan was having a hard time deciding where to focus his eyes — on her beautiful breasts bouncing with each thrust, on her plump, parted lips as she gasped again and again, or on the sight of his thick cock slamming in and out of her drenched pussy. But he relished in knowing that he'd now have countless opportunities to see each of these delicious sights again and again. He'd fuck her silly before he'd ever have enough.

In the future, Jonathan would draw everything out, make her squirm, whine, and downright beg for release. But tonight, he'd make it easy on her, to show her just how good he could make her feel...if she earned it.

Returning his thumb to her clit, he again stroked her over and over, and as he watched her face beautifully contort in pleasure again, he grabbed a fistful of her hair with his free hand, tugging it roughly enough to force her to look at him, her eyes widening in surprise and mild pain as his pull on her strands stung her scalp, causing her to whimper again.

"Do you want me to make you come, Y/N?" Jonathan asked her as she met his eyes.

"Yes! Please!" She thrusted her own hips into his once more, seeking what he was offering her. "And...and..." she couldn't think anymore.

"What?"Jonathan asked her. "Say it."

She clamped around him again.

"And I want you to come inside me."

Jonathan gave her a devilish smile.

"That was happening whether you asked or not," he replied. "You're going to take everything I give you."

Her heart racing, Y/N nodded obediently once more, and with a final, sloppy kiss between them, Jonathan then resumed his previous pace, fucking her hard and fast as he alternated between stroking her clit and pinching her nipples.

With every touch and thrust, Y/N could feel herself unravelling more and more, and she reached up and desperately gripped Jonathan's shoulders as she felt herself nearing the edge.

"I...Jonathan, I..."

"Are you close, sweetheart?" he urged her.

"Yes," she panted.

Jonathan once more pulled her closer, his hands on her hips like a death grip as he prepared to bring her over the edge and finish inside her.

"You're going to come now, Y/N," he commanded her.

In a final push of thrusts and strokes, Jonathan had her mewling in desperation, and when he lowered his mouth to her neck and nipped her skin as he thumbed her a final time, he felt her suddenly clamp around him with insane tightness as a high-pitched squeal escaped her and her body tensed.

Her eyes squeezing shut and her heart pounding in her ears, Y/N was once again thoughtless, only registering her reactions and responses to how Jonathan fucked her with intention, and when he commanded her in that voice and bit at her neck, she was gone. As his thumb stroked her a final time through her wetness, she came with an uncontrollable squeal, gripping his shoulders so tightly that her knuckles were white against the fabric of his jacket.

Hearing her desperately pleasured whine, Jonathan let himself go, pounding into her with determination until he himself was coming, releasing inside her with rope after rope of cum, imagining each bit of his release painting her walls and marking his territory as he finished inside her, hearing her still panting against him as he groaned deeply.

Eventually, the sounds between them lessened, and finally, Jonathan pulled himself out of her as Y/N's hands slipped from his shoulders, whimpering a final time as she felt him leave her body. After tucking himself back inside his briefs, Jonathan fastened his pants again and re-buckled his belt before looking up at Y/N, who still sat on the counter before him, slightly shivering with her naked chest still exposed and her legs still spread, her bare pussy leaking with his cum.

When Y/N lifted her eyes to meet his, Jonathan reached up and stroked her cheek before he spoke again.

"It shouldn't be long now before the effects fully wear off," he said, reaching for her lab coat on the counter, picking it up and encouraging her to slip her arms through the sleeves as he helped her put it back on, never minding about her discarded bra or blouse. He buttoned it for her before then lowering his fingers to her pussy and pushing his escaping cum back inside her. Y/N's thighs quivered as his fingers briefly entered her again.

"Once you're feeling back to normal, I want you to go home," he continued softly. "Don't wash yourself until the morning. Then I want you to come straight to my office tomorrow, and I want you wearing nothing but that lab coat. Do you understand?"

Pressing her thighs together, Y/N silently nodded, her heart still pounding.

"Good girl," Jonathan said, and he stroked her cheek one more time before leaning closer once more.

"You'll always be my good girl, won't you?" he said to her, already knowing her response.

"Yes," Y/N breathed out, nodding slowly. "Always."

With a satisfied nod, Jonathan leaned forward a final time, placing a soft kiss on Y/N's lips before backing away. Then he turned and walked out of the lab, Y/N looking after him as she slowly began to feel like herself again, but with a renewed desirous anticipation, wondering just exactly what Jonathan had in mind for her next.

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @empatheticlove @febris-amatoria

@hannibellector @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @beastofburdenxo @aphroditeslover11

@galactict3a @lyarr24 @wild-rose-35 @4ria790 @judig92

@cillmurphyslover @ladyvenera @karah-bear @k1ng-l3on @ceirinen

@peskybinders @fuseburner @shaddixlife @neonpurplestars89-blog @garrison-girl-08

@devotedlyshadowytheorist @mischievouslittlecreature @muhahaha303 @mostly-marvel-musings @cillianmurphyfanatic

@an-eclectic-of-mass-destruction @vervainandspritz @novashelby @wonderlanddreamer @honeymoon8

@cardan-official @pkmonka @meadows5 @mamawiggers1980 @fmo166

@vastcapacity @mspookington-blog @teawonderfultea-blog1 @fkmarrycill @sl-newsie

@mrs-bond @shopgirl6us @cillianbabe @myers-meadow @fracturedhaven

[cyberwareheart]

I'm collecting data for my dissertation! So, I'm working on a project about dying platforms, which Tumblr may or may not be (and all thoughts on the matter are welcome). If anyone wants to spend an hour talking about how they've used tumblr over the years, how it's changed, and how they feel about it, I really want to hear from you! If you're a longtime user, if you've left and come back, if you know anyone who left and didn't come back and want to refer them to this post, please let me know.

for a little more about me in case anyone wants to know, my name is Andrea, I've been on tumblr since 2010 on my main blog (this one I just use for saving posts for research and doxxing myself), and I'm a PhD student at the University of Michigan doing an IRB-approved study that will, god willing, let me graduate

[ozzgin]

Girly, don't forget to vote tomorrow! Don't be like me and vote with 2 hours before the polling stations close 😭😭

Also this is just a lil reminder, you don't have to answer this, i searched for a rules post to see if it's ok to remind you but I can't find it

Wait, which voting are we talking about? The only one I'm aware of is the Romanian President election, for which I'm going today at the embassy!

For those of you who want a little insight into Romanian politics, we currently have two candidates to choose from:

Candidate ND

is the mayor of the capital

is the founder of a progressive, pro-EU party

has a PhD in mathematics from the ENS in Paris

has won gold in the International Mathematical Olympiads with a perfect score in 1987 and 1988

is one of the very few politicians without a single scandal or corruption claim to his name

Candidate GS

banned in two countries (Ukraine and Republic of Moldova) for his ties with Russia and controversial beliefs

far-right, pro-Putin, has founded a political party with roots in fascism

has shouted - on camera - at a female politician "I will sexually assault you, you sow"

has lied to people about offering cheap housing, collecting their personal data and then using it for propaganda, by claiming "who would even believe that? it was obviously just marketing"

is affiliated with another pro-Putin fascist who caused the elections last year to be cancelled due to fraud

has called the other candidate an autist as an insult, then backtracked once it caused national outrage and claimed he actually meant to say his candidate is a marxist and fascist but got confused

has openly admitted to and joked about committing tax fraud

Believe it or not, the latter has gathered 41% of the votes from the first round of the election. He currently has a brainwashed following among the less intellectual masses. So, you know, we're kind of voting with a clenched butt and praying that we're not actually that stupid as a nation.

If any Romanian pookie is reading this, don't forget to vote! This is our chance to have an educated, proactive leader to represent us.

[tchaikovskym]

btw they found out mice get way more skin cancer way faster when they are under UV radiation in the morning (opposed to evening), and they think it's the opposite for humans.

also it seems like someone went to the lab so they could shine uv light on mice at 4am.

Quotes from scientific articles that could be used for horror

"we harvested mouse skin every 4 h over a 1-d period"

Source: Gaddameedhi, S., Selby, C. P., Kaufmann, W. K., Smart, R. C., & Sancar, A. (2011). Control of skin cancer by the circadian rhythm. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 108(46), 18790-18795.

[ribbonsncherries]

Cyclone Ranch .°˖⋆ 𓃗 .°˖⋆

⟢Warnings: Mentions of tornadoes and twisters, very bad descriptions of weather and climate, Dean being rude asf, mentions of lost child, fluff at the end! (Not proofread)

⟢ Storm Chaser! Dean Winchester x Meteorologist! Reader (No use of Y/N)

⟢Summary: You have been hired to work as an intern for one of the popular internet storm chasers, little did you know it was not what you expected, especially on your first day.

(2490 Words)

Divider Credits: @strangergraphics, @edensrose

“Alright, we’ve got one up ahead, looks like this one is a small but mighty one.” Sam had been on the computer for a couple of hours now, looking for any sign of a possible Tornado. Dean cracked open a beer and handed one to Dean. Jo had begun ordering new parts for their modified Ford truck. She was a beauty modded with rockets, a surround sound system, and a powerful arching system to dig into the ground. Castiel had begun making the exact map of where the tornado was heading and picking the right estimate of where the rocket should be launched to collect data. Cyclone Ranch was the family business. Dean had begun storm chasing after his father, John, had died trying to protect Sam and Dean from an EMF 5 while they were at the park. Cyclone Ranch had begun to become popular among other amateur storm chasers, and especially college students. Dean had opened up Cyclone Ranch to recent college graduates for paid internships. So Dean had finally gotten one, you. 

Dean was known for driving pretty recklessly around these parts. But the rest of the crew didn’t mind at all. It seemed normal to them.

“Hey, when’s that person coming, the intern or whatever?” Asked Sam while still focusing on the computer, taking a swig of his beer. Dean looked toward his brother, away from the road, “Any minute now, Sammy. Take a look, man, we got a good one.” Dean dragged his hand against the computer and switched the tab to your resume.  Sam took a look at your resume, and he was impressed with the stats you had. A recent graduate with a PHD in Meteorology, good grades, and lots of recommendations from previous jobs and professors. 

You had been nervous but excited. You were a fan of the Cyclone Ranch live streams, you were even one of those fans who had a crush on the oh so handsome Winchester brothers. You had pulled up to a small lot with other tornado chasers. “Excuse me?” You walked up to a man who was leaning against a huge white van with satellites on top of the van. “I’m looking for Cyclone Ranch, I’m an intern,” you smiled. The guy snarked and scoffed. “Cyclone Ranch? Oh yeah, they should be comin’ anytime soon. Serious business, huh?” he laughed. You, however, were pretty confused. “Uh, yeah, I’m looking forward to-” Your words were interrupted by loud music. The sound of Metallica playing through the speakers, you jumped from the sudden hard bass coming from the truck. The other storm chasers gathered around the truck, mainly girls. You took a better look at the truck and saw the famous Cyclone Ranch logo. “Oh god…” You muttered. 

The famous Dean Winchester holding up t-shirts and throwing them to the girls who were screaming and blowing kisses at the brothers, Castiel, hell, even Jo, cause who wouldn’t?

“The brothers are back in town, baby!” he yelled out from the window. When they pulled up, your face dropped. You had thought it was a serious business, but now, looking at their setups and equipment, you weren’t too sure. You walked towards the truck, pushing through the crowd of people trying to get to the front. You held on tight to your notebooks and satchel. You had finally caught up to the front and were face to face with Dean himself.

 “Hi, I'm looking for-” Dean put up his hand in front of your face. “Say no more, babydoll, I’m always happy to sign for a fan.” Dean took your notebook and signed the front cover. Sam came behind his shoulder. “Dean, I don’t think-” Dean took out a box and took a good look at your body before handing you a shirt in your size. “Here, take one, take it as a gift.’ He smirked. 

However, you threw him back the shirt. “I’m not a fan, I’m the intern you hired,” you said seriously. Castiel broke the small tension, “Welcome to the team, I’m Castiel. I work with communications. Sam here is the analyzer, keeps track of the storms.” Castiel then waves at Jo. “That’s Jo, the sane one, and the mechanic of that beauty she's working on.” You looked around, “I thought this was an actual company with actual serious shit,” you asked. 

Dean, however, looked offended, not only had you thrown his shirt back at him, but you ignored his charm, and dissed his company. “Alright, listen here, doll, you either back out or join us. Good luck finding another job out here in the middle of nowhere. What’s it gonna be and make it quick,” He snapped. You eventually agreed to stay and work with Dean on collecting the data. 

“We got one,” Sam shouted. “Let's ride, babydoll, you comin’ or not?” Dean said scoffingly. So this is why the guy you were talking to earlier basically laughed in your face, their company was a joke compared to the others. “Yeah, I'm comin’”

While driving to the sight of a twister, you saw it moving strangely. As you sat in the front seat next to Dean, who had been blasting his sound system, you looked out the window. The skies that had gone from a shiny blue sky had turned almost green. You began growing skeptical, so you turned your head to the computer. The meter had rocked from an orange to a bright red. “Dean, we can’t go into this storm, you're insane!” Jo yelled. “Sweetheart, this is my job, either you jump out and wait this storm or you ride with us.” Dean had always been persistent about his findings. He took Cyclone Ranch seriously and wanted to make it to the big leagues so people like the guys you were talking to would put their money they made into their mouths for them to shut up. The winds were moving a completely different way from what Sam had perceived. “Go the other way,” Sam demanded of Dean. He scoffed, “Alright, you ain’t telling me what to do, dude.” He said. 

“We’re right next to a town,” you said softly as you looked back. “The people in that town have no idea what’s going on if you don’t turn this truck around so we can save those people, don’t even call yourself a storm chaser,” you said. Dean didn’t listen to you. He barely knew you for like 3 hours. Everyone in the truck was telling him to turn around so they wouldn’t go towards the danger. “We do this all the time, you gonna believe a guy you guys knew for half your lives or a fancy college barbie?” The knuckles on his hands grew white from the tension of gripping the wheel. Right when he yelled, something had hit the window. You took a closer look to see ice on the hood. “Hail…” Castiel said in disbelief, “It’s gonna be a big one.” You had enough. You jumped in front of Dean in the driver's seat and pushed the seat back. You sat on his lap and controlled the truck. “Am I good back there to turn?” you asked. Sam held a thumbs up and Yeah. Dean tried to take back control, but you wouldn’t have it. It was like playing footsies with him, but with the wheel of a moving car. You managed to turn the truck around towards the town, but the winds were already growing stronger by the minute. “Guys, alert the town, we don’t have much time,” Jo yelled out before the glass of the rear window had cracked from the string hail. “Some storm chaser you are.” You mumbled to Dean as you took control of the wheel. 

As you reached the town, everyone got down. The townspeople were already alerted when the tornado siren had grown louder. You ran into a small daycare that had a basement inside. You had ordered people who were the closest to you into the basement. “Sammy, take the vendor and bring 'em inside the shops!” Dean yelled out. Jo and Castiel began to bring others into huge buildings without windows and any secure areas. It was only you and Dean in the storm, trying to make sure everyone was ok. Except one. A girl wearing a bright duck coat and bright pink shoes, crying and standing in fear, calling out for her mom. You and Dean immediately ran to her and, with no hesitation, picked her up. “It’s ok, we’re here to help find your mama,” you soothed as much as you could. “Cmon, we need to head to a shelter,” Dean yelled through the strong winds. However, there was nowhere else, every basement was full, and no luck finding the girl's mother. “Dean, a ditch!” you yelled out. Dean jumped in first, and once he did, his hands stretched out to grab the kid, then you. You cradled the girl and put her duck hoodie on her head to protect her from the storm. You put the girl's head in the crook of your neck to protect her face. Dean put his whole body over you, his hand went around your waist and the girl's body as much as he could, while his other hand kept digging into the ground as the twister became stronger. 

The sounds of the little girl crying and the strong winds made Dean groan from the amount of strength he’s using to keep the two alive. He saw the girl's eyes, and it made him think of that day. He was around the girl’s age with his dad, and he made the exact same face she did when he first saw a twister as strong as this. The twister is moving towards them, and Dean laid his head on your shoulder as he kept gripping onto the ground and you. Thousands of random things came flying, wood, glass, even some baseballs from a local game at the park

Eventually, the twister had died down a bit and moved on, but the strong winds were still there. “Is it over?” asked the girl softly. You smiled, “It’s almost done, ok, just stay put, little duck.” You said. You looked at Dean, who was behind you. He looked over to the sky and saw that the clouds were slowly moving away. He got up first and climbed back up. Sam, Cas, and Jo came out of different buildings with people who were still scared to see if the storm had passed or moved away. “We’re good,” Dean said, looking down in the muddy ditch to see you still holding onto the girl. You got up and used your strength to lift the girl up to Dean as he put her back on top. He then took your hand in his rough ones and brought you back up. Both of you were all muddy and dirty, and so was the girl. You looked around the skies before facing Dean, who looked almost distraught. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “I know I’m a joke in this business. I should’ve listened to you guys.” You could only look at him before the girl tugged on Dean’s jacket. He looked down and saw her with a small pout. “Thank you for saving us.” She said softly in her small voice. But he knew now who he was doing this business for. Not for him, not for his dad. But for people like her, for her to be safe. He crouched down softly to her level and buttoned up her last button on her coat. “You’re welcome,” he smiled. 

“Charlotte!” A woman came running from the local shop. “Mommy!” she said, running immediately straight for them. “Oh, thank god you’re safe!” She said, hugging the girl tightly. “You’re not hurt, are you, baby?” The girl shook her head before looking back at you and Dean. “Thank you! Oh, thank you!” The mother said, smiling and crying all at once. “It was no problem, your daughter is very brave.” You smiled, trying to keep everything calm. When the mother and daughter left them alone, Dean placed a hand on your shoulder in reassurance. “You ok? Rough first day,” he softly joked to bring up the mood a bit. You, however, weren’t smiling. “Yeah…just glad everyone is ok,” you said. Dean brought his hand back to himself. 

The gang was together again. However, they began passing around food and water to the townfolk while an ambulance was checking up on all the townspeople to make sure they were ok. “You’re a good guy, Dean,” you said as you were eating your sandwich, still muddy and dirty. “Even for a guy who pastes his face on a shirt,” you said teasingly. Dean smirked as he finished his sandwich. “I guess if you want to, I’d want to keep you in the business, I mean, you're a hell of a gal. And if you managed to take my hands off the wheel, imagine you at your potential.” He said. You tilted your head so he could say what you thought he was saying. “I talked with the rest, they reviewed your resume, and if you want to, of course… stay with us? And if not I’ll send the best damn recommendation you’ve ever seen.” You laughed a bit. You looked forward to seeing the storm chaser you talked to before, the one who laughed at you handing people business cards to buy their property. Then, looking at Castiel and Jo handing people food and extra merch they had in their truck. “I feel like you guys are more fun than those guys,” you said, turning your head towards him. “Why not?” you said. Dean smiled, hoping to fix your rough first meeting. 

“Listen, I don’t do this much, but I’m sorry for the way I treated you before…Can we maybe? Have a fresh start?” he asked. You nodded and smiled. “Of course, but..leave the shirt out.” You said. Dean faked his offended look. “Why?” he asked. You looked away, embarrassed. “Oh my god…you have one already, don’t you?” he smirked. “Shut up,” you said awkwardly. “You are a fan! Hey, you may be my stalker?” he continued to tease while you kept turning your head away. “Shut up before I change my mind.” You said, pushing him playfully. Sam called you guys over to gather around the truck. As you walked,  Dean couldn’t stop looking at you. As you reached Sam, he announced, “There’s a small twister that looks small enough for us to get rid of. We won’t get much data, but it’s something. What do we think?” He asked. Dean looked immediately down at you. Your eyes had already met his as both of you smirked. “Let’s ride, baby.” 

There, your adventures started with Cyclone Ranch, with a wannabe Reed Timmer. But you couldn’t be happier in this moment, chasing storms with meteorologists’ biggest heartthrob.

Taglist @applelovesposts @ladykitana90 @cevansbaby-dove @cleacc

A/N: Hello! sooo I'm back? Sorry, I've been gone for a while, just had to take a small lil break for school and funsies. But glad to be writing whatever I want on my blog. Thank you guys for the support you've shown me, I really appreciate all of you. Anyway, here's a fic you guys didn't ask for, but I'll provide happily :D . As for the contract series, I'm having trouble reading the script and making it sound good and adding more plot, so I'm going through a small writer's block. So we may be going on a little break for that series, but let me know what other characters you want me to do. I'm already working on a Sam fic btw *wink wink*. Hope you guys enjoy this small oneshot.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive (Check out the site for full daily updates!)

By Dave Fornell

New research supported by grants from the National Institutes of Health revealed a history of COVID-19 can double a patient's risk of heart attack, stroke or death.[1] The study, published in Arteriosclerosis, Thrombosis, and Vascular Biology, found that the heightened risks can sometimes last for years after a COVID diagnosis.

The research was led by Cleveland Clinic and the University of Southern California. Anyone who had a COVID-19 infection, regardless of severity, was twice as likely to have a major cardiac event, such as heart attack, stroke or even death, for up to three years after diagnosis, the group found. The risk was significantly higher for patients hospitalized for COVID-19 and more of a determinant than a previous history of heart disease.

The researchers also found that patients with a blood type other an O (such as A, B or AB) were twice as likely to experience an adverse cardiovascular event after COVID-19 than those with an O blood type.

These findings show that the long-term risk associated with COVID-19 “continues to pose a significant public health burden” and the findings warrant further investigation, according to the authors.

Cardiology may see increasing numbers of former COVID patients in the years to come During the pandemic, there were serious concerns that the SARS-CoV-2 virus may cause an increase in future cardiovascular issues in COVID patients. This was based on the larger than expected vascular and myocardial involvement seen in many cases. What was originally thought to be long-term damage subsided in patients overtime. While concerns about heart damage and increased numbers of heart failure patients did not come to pass, this study shows evidence that cardiologists may still see increasing numbers of patients in the years to come.

“Worldwide over a billion people have already experienced COVID-19. The findings reported are not a small effect in a small subgroup,” co-senior study author Stanley Hazen, MD, PhD, chair of cardiovascular and metabolic sciences in Cleveland Clinic’s Lerner Research Institute and co-section head of preventive cardiology, said in a statement. “The results included nearly a quarter million people and point to a finding of global healthcare importance that promises to translate into a rise in cardiovascular disease globally.”

Why do COVID patients have elevated cardiovascular risks? Researchers used U.K. Biobank data from 10,005 people who had COVID-19 and 217,730 people who did not between February and December 2020. Certain genetic variants are already linked to coronary artery disease, heart attack and COVID-19 infection, so researchers completed a genetic analysis to see if any of these known genetic variants contribute to elevated coronary artery disease risk after COVID-19. They found none of the known genetic variants were drivers of the enhanced cardiovascular events observed post COVID-19 infection. Instead, the data highlighted an association between elevated risk and blood type.

Previous research has shown that people who have A, B or AB blood types were also more susceptible to contracting COVID-19, the researchers said.

“These findings reveal while it’s an upper respiratory tract infection, COVID-19 has a variety of health implications and underscores that we should consider history of prior COVID-19 infection when formulating cardiovascular disease preventive plans and goals,” Hazen said. “The association uncovered by our research indicates a potential interaction between the virus and the piece of our genetic code that determines blood type and signals the need for further investigation.”

“Given our collective observations and that 60% of the world's population have these non-O blood types, our study raises important questions about whether more aggressive cardiovascular risk reduction efforts should be considered, possibly by taking into consideration an individual's genetic makeup," explained Hooman Allayee, PhD, of USC’s Keck School of Medicine, who was co-senior author of the paper.

Study link: www.ahajournals.org/doi/abs/10.1161/ATVBAHA.124.321001

[shitifindinsteadofdoingmyphd]

Day 604 of the PhD

I’m getting close to hitting that mid way point so thought I’d create a vision board to keep me going. It was also a nice procrastination from writing because… damn it’s repetitive. But soon it’ll be hours of marking and then my one week holiday!

So much to do before then… but I have finally started data collection so I’m feeling excited.

[tibonanj]

[Phd work 5 : collecting data]

Working on The Sacradness of the Mother and her Child give me joy !