#ph.d study
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
adypy-00 · 11 months ago
Text
Navigating the PhD Admissions Process: A Comprehensive Guide for Aspiring Scholars
Embarking on a PhD journey is a significant step towards becoming a thought leader and an expert in your chosen field. However, the path to securing a PhD position can be challenging, requiring meticulous preparation, thorough research, and a deep understanding of the admissions process. This guide aims to provide prospective students with a step-by-step approach to applying for a PhD program, along with practical tips on crafting a compelling personal statement and acing the interview.
Step 1: Identify Your Research Interests and Potential Supervisors
The first step in the PhD application process is to clearly define your research interests. A PhD is an advanced degree that allows you to delve deeply into a specialized area of study, with your research focus shaping the course of your academic career. Start by reflecting on the topics or questions that genuinely excite you. Consider the following:
What problems or issues in your field intrigue you?
What gaps in existing research do you want to address?
What is your long-term career goal, and how will this research help you achieve it?
Once you have a clear research focus, the next step is to identify potential supervisors who are experts in your area of interest. Research faculty members at various universities, read their publications, and understand their research trajectory. A good supervisor is not just an expert in your field but also someone whose research philosophy aligns with yours.
Tip: Reach out to potential supervisors with a well-crafted email expressing your interest in their work and how it aligns with your research goals. This initial contact can significantly impact your application’s success.
Step 2: Research PhD Programs and Universities
After identifying potential supervisors, it’s time to research PhD programs and universities that offer the best environment for your research. Consider the following factors:
Reputation: Seek out universities recognized for their expertise in your area of study.
Resources: Ensure the university has the necessary research facilities, libraries, and funding opportunities to support your work.
Culture: Consider the academic culture and community, as these will significantly impact your experience as a PhD student.
Make a list of universities that match your criteria and review their application requirements and deadlines.
Tip: Attend open days, webinars, or virtual tours offered by universities to gain a deeper understanding of the programs and campus life.
Step 3: Prepare Your Application Materials
The application process typically involves submitting several documents, each of which plays a crucial role in your acceptance. Here’s how to approach each component:
1. Personal Statement:
Your personal statement is your opportunity to showcase your passion for research, your understanding of the field, and your motivation for pursuing a PhD. Here’s how to craft a impactful personal statement:
Start with a strong introduction: Briefly introduce yourself and your academic background, focusing on how your experiences have shaped your research interests.
Explain your research interests: Clearly outline the research questions you wish to explore, why they are important, and how you plan to address them. Showcase your knowledge of the current research landscape in your field.
Discuss your fit with the program: Highlight why you have chosen this particular program and university. Mention specific faculty members you wish to work with and how their expertise aligns with your research goals.
Showcase your skills and experience: Provide examples of your previous research experience, skills, and academic achievements that make you a strong candidate for the PhD program.
Conclude with your career aspirations: End your statement by discussing your long-term career goals and how the PhD will help you achieve them.
2. Academic CV:
Your academic CV should offer a clear summary of your academic accomplishments, research background, publications, presentations, and any pertinent work experience. Make sure it is well-organized and easy to read.
3. Letters of Recommendation:
Choose recommenders who are familiar with your academic work and can speak to your potential as a researcher. Provide them with enough time and information to write a strong letter on your behalf.
4. Writing Sample:
Some programs may require a writing sample. Choose a piece of work that best showcases your ability to conduct research and articulate your ideas clearly.
Step 4: Prepare for the Entrance Examination
Many PhD programs require candidates to pass an entrance examination. This exam typically assesses your subject knowledge, research aptitude, and critical thinking skills. To prepare:
Review the syllabus and format: Understand the topics covered and the structure of the exam.
Practice with past papers: If available, practice with past exam papers to familiarize yourself with the type of questions asked.
Focus on key concepts: Ensure you have a strong grasp of the fundamental concepts in your field.
Step 5: Prepare for the Interview
After successfully clearing the entrance examination, the next step is the interview. The PhD interview is your chance to demonstrate your suitability for the program and your potential as a researcher. Here’s how to prepare:
Know your research proposal inside out: Be ready to discuss your research interests, methodology, and potential challenges in detail.
Understand your potential supervisor’s work: Be prepared to discuss how your research aligns with their work and how you can contribute to their ongoing projects.
Practice common interview questions: Consider questions such as ���Why do you want to pursue a PhD?” and “What qualities make you a strong candidate for this program?”
Prepare questions for the interviewers: Ask insightful questions about the program, research opportunities, and university resources.
Applying for a PhD program at Ajeenkya DY Patil University is a demanding but rewarding process that requires careful planning, preparation, thorough research, and a deep commitment to your academic goals to enhance your chances of success. Remember, your application is not just a reflection of your academic achievements but also your passion for research and your potential to contribute to your chosen field. By following these steps and tips, you can navigate the PhD admissions process with confidence and take the first step toward a fulfilling academic journey at ADYPU.
Remember, persistence and passion are key — stay focused on your goals, and the journey will be worth it. Good luck, and we look forward to welcoming you to the ADYPU community!
0 notes
cocofetti · 4 months ago
Text
Yeah sex is nice
But have you ever wrote a big ass paper with a big ass reference page and you finally get to close out the fifty leven tabs you had open because you are FINALLY DONE!!!!
Top tier dopamine hit: 20/10
20 notes · View notes
lizardho · 2 months ago
Text
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about some of the people I interact with. I have a coworker who I am pretty sure is a MAGA type, and she is also a lovely woman who is dreadfully overworked and so good at connecting to patients when they call. I can see the conflict on her face when she talks to me, a gigantic tranny dork who speaks Spanish and affirms the LGBT community, but can also talk to her about her cows and knows about guns and stuff. I can see the fear in the eyes of my former Young Men’s leader when he misgenders me and realizes that I’m not an ideology but a person he has known for a long time. I can see the way my extended family stop and stutter over political discussions when they realize they are talking about me. And I don’t know why but lately it’s just made me think about my neighbor as a kid.
When we moved to Arizona, we moved next door to a lovely retired couple - John and Lucy. John was a veteran of WWII, he had an M.D. and a Ph.D. in radiology, and he LOVED us to pieces. His wife, Lucy, was a sharp and gifted woman - well spoken, very observant, and VERY clever. I just know that she used that cleverness as a mom to great effect, because with my and my siblings she always managed to find a way to send us home with candy and treats for a week despite my dad’s protests. We loved them, growing up, and even though they have long-since passed away I love them still, and I love what I learned from them.
John was, as stated, a WWII veteran. He was enlisted as a rifleman, and later as a front line medic, starting at Point Du Hoc and moving inwards to France and towards the Rhine. He let me do a report on him in 6th grade where he shared war stories with me he had kept to himself his whole life - he said it was out of respect for his friends who didn’t get to come home and tell their stories.
He said he told me because he knew I could respect the memories of his friends.
He showed me his collection of medals, and which he’d kept hidden away in a sock in his attic because he’d feel an immense grief any time he saw them. He had wanted to be a doctor his whole life, prior to being drafted he was studying medicine and had taken the Hippocratic oath to Do No Harm. He saw his medals as a reminder that he had Done Harm.
After telling me his stories he was able to convince himself that while he had Done Harm, it was only because his only other alternative was, to him, cowardice. He chose to be brave even if it meant acting against his Oath because he felt that if he didn’t do it someone else would have to go in his place and he would be responsible for the harm that befell them. I don’t think that’s true, but for him it was and that was something no being on earth could have ever dissuaded him from believing.
He shared wild stories - melee combat on the beach, clearing artillery bunkers, receiving a Purple Heart for being injured in hand-to-hand combat with a Wehrmacht rifleman he said he felt pity for because they were the same age and he had to imagine the man he was fighting had been drafted just like him.
He shared how he was awarded a Silver Star for charging a machine gun nest, but shared that he was most proud of not killing anyone in the process. He threw a grenade with the pin still in it and when the machine gunners jumped to avoid being blown up they were killed by someone else so he didn’t have to do it. He took the machine gun and shot the other machine gun in that French field to pieces so he didn’t have to kill the people operating it. He said they were giving out Silver Stars like candy but I knew he was being modest.
He told me about being redesignated as a medic, about how he crawled for about 500 yards on his belly to rescue an injured tank driver, then threw him over his back and crawled the same 500 yards back (1000 yards total) to treat his injuries. He said he met the man in an Army hospital in England after his spine was broken by a high explosive panzer shell was fired through a hollowed out French farmhouse and landed about 20 feet away from him.
He told me about all the people he helped and saved as a medic, he told me about his work in radiology and research after the war. He showed me a hallway that was quite literally wallpapered with academic honors he’d earned as a researcher. He told me about how his first Fourth of July back was a horror show for him because fireworks and German artillery make very similar sounds. He told me about how he woke up in a cold sweat well over half a century later hearing the screams of German artillery men being burned alive with flamethrowers, or hearing his own voice apologizing to the young German soldier he stabbed in the heart at Point Du Hoc.
He told me that when he was asked to present at a medical conference in Germany 25 years after the war ended that he was so scared he couldn’t step off the plane, and that his wife had to hold his hand and lead/pull him with her. He said he was not scared because he was worried about being triggered, but because he knew that someone somewhere outside of that plane had the course of their life irreparably altered by his military service. That to someone out there he was the cause of immense suffering and harm. That some unwitting waiter could be the son of the Nazi Officer he stabbed in the heart with a 12-inch hunting knife. That some woman asking questions in the audience would be the daughter or widow of a man he sent to judgement with a .30-06. He was scared that they would hate him.
He knew what the Nazi’s had done, he knew better than anyone I’d ever met. He’d watched the documentaries, he’s seen the PoWs returning from camps, he’d seen the civilians massacred and tortured by their regime, but he also knew that among the monsters were people like him - idealistic 20-somethings who only wanted to make the world better and were ripped away from that life by the Nazi war machine. And he spent his whole life mourning the loss of innocence and peace that was forced on so many people by such a corrupt power.
To be honest I don’t know if I could do that, but he could. He told me he could still feel the dead and lost with him, both when he slept and when he woke. He told me he thought he’d go to his grave never having told a word of this to anyone. That the stories of him and his friends and allies would disappear silently with him and those like him. That he had wanted that until he realized that he didn’t have to sell out to share the stories - that he could give the stories away for free to someone who would love the people in them, and not just the content of them. He didn’t want his stories to be used as Patriotic Pornography by some TV network or magazine. He wanted the people he knew to be respected, he wanted their memories to be honored and loved, and he entrusted me, a 12-year-old “boy” to do that.
He told me for years afterwards that after telling me these stories that he slept better than he ever had. That by sharing the stories with someone who could hear Him over the din of victory and glory and honor and revisionistic history. Someone who could see the man in the story and not just see the plot of a battle being won. He wanted to be human, and he wanted the people he saw die to be human too - everyone, not just the people on his side. He wanted someone to see and to know the anguish of having to look someone in the eye as heartblood muddies the ground beneath them and hope that they understand that this was not an act of love or hatred but an act of desperation. To hope that you had just taken out One Of The Bad Ones instead of a medical student or a poet who had been drafted. He wanted me to see how hard he had worked since then to build a world without scarcity, to build a world of peace. He wanted me to know SO badly that the cost of violence, any violence, even necessary violence, is always ALWAYS paid by both parties involved.
I think about the rise of the new right wing - the new Nazi movement’s traction in politics, and I feel sad and scared - the world that Johnathan J Yobaggy, my neighbor, my friend, and my hero, worked SO hard to build is being done away with by people who do not understand the cost of the path they are entering. I can see brief moments of recognition in the eyes of some of the people I mentioned - The former young men’s president who immediately regrets misgendering me and hen he makes eye contact with me and sees Me staring back at him and not a faceless “ideology.” I can hear it in the voice of my uncle who quietly comes up to me to apologize for some homophobic comment he made absentmindedly. I can see it in the eyes of racists and sexists being interviewed on TV when they realize that they didn’t vote for a concept, they voted for a real thing. And honestly, I have mixed emotions about it. Because while I understand frustration with the status quo, the importance of basic human needs like affordable good and rent, and I know the fear that comes with feeling powerless, I also can’t help but grieve the endless wheel of history bringing us back to this God Damned Fucking Place again. I hope we can avoid this fate, not just for our sake but for the sake of everyone who has ever tried to make the world safer. For everyone who has ever tried to make up for human nature, for everyone who has ever placed themselves on the offering plate to protect others from the cruelty they know lies just under the surface of mankind’s tenuous grip on progress. I want SO badly for there to be a solution to this, for the people who idolize the Nazi party and the impact of fascism to see that the price of this path is paid in more than just blood but in soul. That they’re allowing themselves to be devoured too. I want for the centrists and the fence sitters and the idealists who want to “change it from the inside” to see how dangerous our politics have become. I want them to see that they’re losing the things that make them great in exchange for a security blanket that’s now become far far far too small to ever work for them again.
Safety found in the past is already gone, and safety found in the future is only as real as a daydream. That any ideology that promises that by “joining us now we’ll make things rough so we can make things safe in a decade” is a promise made by those who will not have to fight the battles they send you to.
I don’t know if America was ever really great, but as long as John was alive it felt great to me. There is no ideology that can replace a neighbor. No tax plan that can replace a friend. No grocery bill that can replace community and connection. No amount of budget cuts that can replace kindness. No amount of suffering from people I hate that will ever make more love. I don’t know how to make America great, but I know how to make my America great and it is not by selling out integrity and compassion and community and fucking humanity to make eggs and gas cheaper. It is by seeing and hearing the people around me. I’m not Mormon anymore, but I still know the value of mourning with those that mourn and comforting those that stand in need of comfort. I’m not Christian anymore but I still have Eyes That Can See and Ears That Can Hear. I want to make this all stop but I can’t stop the collective power of tens of millions of people so instead I listen to my MAGA coworker tell me about how sick her kid was last week. I make jokes with my Young Men’s leader. I hug my uncle. I let them see me fully, as a human and not an ideology. As a woman and not the concept of gender. As a whole person and not someone who can be easily summarized or boiled down into something short and quippy. And I let them know I can see them fully too, and I can see all their humanity as easily as they can see mine. I just have to hope that this works - that enough people can See and Hear the people in their lives who matter to them to bring them out of their personal world of forms and into the real world.
I am probably, honestly, just spiraling a little bit. I took my ADHD meds today and in addition to helping me focus they make me a little anxious so I doubt things are as bad right now as they seem. But just in case there’s any truth to the way things seem to be going, remember, and I mean this seriously: Be kinder to each other, be gayer, and read more Terry Pratchett.
And for the love of god day hello to your neighbor.
20K notes · View notes
datamaskinblog · 5 months ago
Text
Oh, I really miss my country and my friends. Today, I was thinking about everything I have to do for my PhD, and it is a lot. Sometimes I really hate it, but other times I love it. Also, I have started taking Swedish classes, my Indian friend motivated me to take a course with her. I don't know, but since I met her, I have felt better, like I actually can do it. Let's see.
0 notes
michaelgabrill · 5 months ago
Text
Newly Minted Ph.D. Studies Phytoplankton with NASAs FjordPhyto Project
FjordPhyto is a collective effort where travelers on tour expedition vessels in Antarctica help scientists at Scripps Institution of Oceanography and Universidad Nacional de La Plata study phytoplankton. Now project leader Dr. Allison Cusick has a Ph.D.! . Dr. Cusick studies how melting glaciers influence phytoplankton in the coastal regions. She wrote her doctoral dissertation […] from NASA https://ift.tt/cJnrwmp
0 notes
xtruss · 11 months ago
Text
Study Explains Why Laws Are Written In An Incomprehensible Style
— By Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) | 19 August 2024
Tumblr media
Credit: Unsplash/CC0 Public Domain
Legal documents are notoriously difficult to understand, even for lawyers. This raises the question: Why are these documents written in a style that makes them so impenetrable?
MIT cognitive scientists believe they have uncovered the answer to that question. Just as "magic spells" use special rhymes and archaic terms to signal their power, the convoluted language of legalese acts to convey a sense of authority, they conclude.
In a study appearing in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, the researchers found that even non-lawyers use this type of language when asked to write laws.
"People seem to understand that there's an implicit rule that this is how laws should sound, and they write them that way," says Edward Gibson, an MIT Professor of Brain and Cognitive Sciences and the Senior Author of the Study.
Eric Martinez Ph.D. is the lead author of the study. Francis Mollica, a lecturer at the University of Melbourne, is also an author of the paper.
Casting a Legal Spell
Gibson's research group has been studying the unique characteristics of legalese since 2020, when Martinez came to MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology) after earning a law degree from Harvard Law School. In a 2022 study, Gibson, Martinez, and Mollica analyzed legal contracts totaling about 3.5 million words, comparing them with other types of writing, including movie scripts, newspaper articles, and academic papers.
That analysis revealed that legal documents frequently have long definitions inserted in the middle of sentences—a feature known as "center-embedding." Linguists have previously found that this kind of structure can make text much more difficult to understand.
"Legalese somehow has developed this tendency to put structures inside other structures, in a way which is not typical of human languages," Gibson says.
In a follow-up study published in 2023, the researchers found that legalese also makes documents more difficult for lawyers to understand. Lawyers tended to prefer plain English versions of documents, and they rated those versions to be just as enforceable as traditional legal documents.
"Lawyers also find legalese to be unwieldy and complicated," Gibson says. "Lawyers don't like it, laypeople don't like it, so the point of this current paper was to try and figure out why they write documents this way."
The researchers had a couple of hypotheses for why legalese is so prevalent. One was the "copy and edit hypothesis," which suggests that legal documents begin with a simple premise, and then additional information and definitions are inserted into already existing sentences, creating complex center-embedded clauses.
"We thought it was plausible that what happens is you start with an initial draft that's simple, and then later you think of all these other conditions that you want to include. And the idea is that once you've started, it's much easier to center-embed that into the existing provision," says Martinez, who is now a Fellow and Instructor at the University of Chicago Law School.
However, the findings ended up pointing toward a different hypothesis, the so-called "Magic Spell Hypothesis." Just as magic spells are written with a distinctive style that sets them apart from everyday language, the convoluted style of legal language appears to signal a special kind of authority, the researchers say.
"In English culture, if you want to write something that's a magic spell, people know that the way to do that is you put a lot of old-fashioned rhymes in there. We think maybe center-embedding is signaling legalese in the same way," Gibson says.
In this study, the researchers asked about 200 non-lawyers (Native Speakers of English Living in the United States, Who Were Recruited Through a Crowdsourcing Site Called Prolific), to write two types of texts. In the first task, people were told to write laws prohibiting crimes such as drunk driving, burglary, arson, and drug trafficking. In the second task, they were asked to write stories about those crimes.
To test the copy and edit hypothesis, half of the participants were asked to add additional information after they wrote their initial law or story.
The researchers found that all of the subjects wrote laws with center-embedded clauses, regardless of whether they wrote the law all at once or were told to write a draft and then add to it later. And, when they wrote stories related to those laws, they wrote in much plainer English, regardless of whether they had to add information later.
"When writing laws, they did a lot of center-embedding regardless of whether or not they had to edit it or write it from scratch. And in that narrative text, they did not use center-embedding in either case," Martinez says.
In another set of experiments, about 80 participants were asked to write laws, as well as descriptions that would explain those laws to visitors from another country. In these experiments, participants again used center-embedding for their laws, but not for the descriptions of those laws.
The Origins of Legalese
Gibson's lab is now investigating the origins of center-embedding in legal documents. Early American laws were based on British law, so the researchers plan to analyze British laws to see if they feature the same kind of grammatical construction. And going back much further, they plan to analyze whether Center-Embedding is found in the Hammurabi Code, the earliest known set of laws, which dates to around 1750 BC.
"There may be just a stylistic way of writing from back then, and if it was seen as successful, people would use that style in other languages," Gibson says. "I would guess that it's an accidental property of how the laws were written the first time, but we don't know that yet."
The researchers hope that their work, which has identified specific aspects of legal language that make it more difficult to understand, will motivate lawmakers to try to make laws more comprehensible.
Efforts to write legal documents in plainer language date to at least the 1970s, when President Richard Nixon declared that federal regulations should be written in "Layman's Terms." However, legal language has changed very little since that time.
"We have learned only very recently what it is that makes legal language so complicated, and therefore I am optimistic about being able to change it," Gibson says.
1 note · View note
buzzessays · 1 year ago
Text
Murdoch University Scholarships 2025 for International Students | Fully Funded Master’s & Ph.D. Programs | Apply Now for Financial Aid to Study in Australia.
0 notes
ola987 · 6 months ago
Text
Ola: From the Peak of Ambition to an Urgent Need for Your Help Today
Hello dear ones, this is Ola speaking to you from the heart of suffering.
In just a few moments, everything seems so far out of my reach. The world is no longer what it once was; my life has been turned upside down. I once saw myself as a student fighting for her dream, achieving success one after another. But today, after all this, I am left with nothing but memories and broken dreams. 💔
I have lost so much, and now I am back at square one, as if all the effort and hard work I put in over the years has vanished. But still, I cannot lose hope. I am Ola, the ambitious, passionate one who made it to the top. I graduated with distinction and received the top student award at the university. I was first in my college with a GPA of 96.01% " Excellent with 1st. Honor degree", secured a teaching job, and began my master's studies.
Tumblr media
My dream filled me with energy; I was eager to achieve more and pursue a Ph.D. program. But today, what can I say?!
Life has been harsh enough, turning everything into darkness. The days have been heavy, and it has been over 471 days since this struggle began, and the wound is still in my heart. Yet, I haven’t lost hope. I still have a dream, my great dream of continuing my studies and achieving my aspirations.
But now, after all I've been through, I need your help more than ever. I ask for nothing but your support, kind words, and a renewed sense of hope. My family and I are living in darkness, and we need your humanity to help us rise again.
My sisters and I can't continue our studies without your help; my family and I need your support to rebuild our lives.
I once had a blog on Tumblr, but it was suddenly deleted, as if all my efforts to raise my voice were in vain. I lost the friends and followers who supported me, and now I am back to square one. And here I am, asking for your help, certain that this world still has people like you who will give me a chance to live again.
I am Ola, in desperate need of your help today.🥺
Please reblog and donate 💔🙏
My campaign has been vetted by:
@90-ghost here, @northgazaupdates here, and @el-shab-hussien and @nabulsi 's spreadsheet of vetted campaigns #205.
@ot3 @amygdalae @turian @dykesbat @guldaastan @ashwantsafreepalestine @communistchameleon @komsomolka @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @watermotif @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation @deepspaceboytoy @paper-mario-wiki @kibumkim @chilewithcarnage @sayruq @turtletoria @vampiricvenus @ghostofanonpast @akajustmerry @briarhips @mahoushojoe @sar-soor @rhubarbspring @catcrumb @wolfythewitch @imogen-mangle @soon-palestine @acepumpkinpatrick @gothhabiba @tamamita @taqoou @wolfertinger666 @prisonhannibal @nyancrimew @idontmindifuforgetme
@commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria @mangocheesecakes @komsomolka @deepspaceboytoy @ghelgheli @buttercuparry @imjustheretotrytohelp @kianamaiart
5K notes · View notes
mahiraagarwal · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Exploring Research Opportunities in Sweden
Learn about research opportunities in Sweden. Discover its innovative research environment, funding options, collaborative prospects, and career opportunities.
0 notes
selfdiscoverymedia · 2 years ago
Text
RGC23-49. Alexandria Johnson on Faith & Children.
Raising Our Gifted Children with Sara Troy and her guest Alexandria Johnson, on air from December 5th My ‘why’ for sharing is grounded in my desire to help others thrive. I believe that through information sharing others are able to be equipped with the tools that they need to thrive in their lives. Alexandria Johnson is from the beautiful islands of The Bahamas. Her experiences throughout her…
Tumblr media
View On WordPress
0 notes
adypy-00 · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Ph.D. Program | ADYPU
Ajeenkya DY Patil University (ADYPU), an innovation university, offers Ph.D. programs through its Schools of Engineering, Law, Design, Management, Liberal Arts and Film & Media.
0 notes
davidkehr08 · 2 years ago
Text
Global Assignment Help
Students seeking international assignment services online during their study abroad programs often seek help due to various reasons, including lack of understanding of writing standards, insufficient time for assignments, fear of failure, and inadequate knowledge of the assignment topic, writing proficiency, and research materials. we offer global assignment help for international students, covering topic selection, research work, drafting the paper, editing and proofreading, and partial assistance. We provide personalized assistance, multiple layers of proofreading and editing, timely delivery, support from Ph.D. qualified experts, free rework support, and 24x7 active customer support.
Tumblr media
0 notes
reasonsforhope · 7 months ago
Text
"Engineers at the University of Pennsylvania have made a critical breakthrough that promises better outcomes for pregnancies threatened with pre-eclampsia, a condition that arises due to insufficient blood flow to the placenta, resulting in high maternal blood pressure and restricted blood flow to the fetus.
Pre-eclampsia is one of the leading causes of stillbirths and prematurity worldwide, and it occurs in 3 to 5% of pregnancies. Without a cure, options for these patients only treat symptoms, such as taking blood pressure medication, being on bed rest, or delivering prematurely—regardless of the viability of their baby.
Making a decision to treat pre-eclampsia in any manner can be a moral conundrum, to balance many personal health decisions with long-standing impacts—and for Kelsey Swingle, a doctoral student in the UPenn bioengineering lab, these options are not enough.
In previous research, she conducted a successful proof-of-concept study that examined a library of lipid nanoparticles (LNPs)—which are the delivery molecules that helped get the mRNA of the COVID vaccine into cells—and their ability to reach the placenta in pregnant mice.
In her latest study, published in Nature, Swingle examined 98 different LNPs and their ability to get to the placenta and decrease high blood pressure and increase vasodilation in pre-eclamptic pregnant mice.
Her work shows that the best LNP for the job was one that resulted in more than 100-fold greater mRNA delivery to the placenta in pregnant mice than an FDA-approved LNP formulation.
The drug worked.
“Our LNP was able to deliver an mRNA therapeutic that reduced maternal blood pressure through the end of gestation and improved fetal health and blood circulation in the placenta,” says Swingle.
“Additionally, at birth we saw an increase in litter weight of the pups, which indicates a healthy mom and healthy babies. I am very excited about this work and its current stage because it could offer a real treatment for pre-eclampsia in human patients in the very near future.”
While further developing this cure for pre-eclampsia and getting it to the market for human use is on the horizon for the research team, Swingle had to start from scratch to make this work possible. She first had to lay the groundwork to run experiments using pregnant mice and determine how to induce pre-eclampsia in this animal model, processes that are not as well studied.
But, by laying this groundwork, Swingle’s work has not only identified an avenue for curing pre-eclampsia, it also opens doors for research on LNP-mRNA therapeutics addressing other reproductive health challenges...
As Swingle thinks ahead for next steps in her research, which was funded by the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation, she will also collaborate to further optimize the LNP to deliver the mRNA even more efficiently, as well as understanding the mechanisms of how it gets to the placenta, a question still not fully answered.
They are already in talks about creating a spin-off company and want to work on bringing this LNP-mRNA therapeutic to clinical trials and the market.
Swingle, who is currently finishing up her Ph.D. research, has not only successfully led this new series of studies advancing pre-eclampsia treatment at Penn, she has also inspired other early career researchers in the field as she continues to thrive while bringing women’s health into the spotlight."
-via Good News Network, December 15, 2024
1K notes · View notes
missarchive · 7 months ago
Text
cognitive dissonance pt 1 - spencer reid
Tumblr media Tumblr media
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ part two
who? tutor!spencer reid x student fem!reader
category: fluff, smut
content warnings: NSFW MDNI!! dry humping, fingering
word count: 5k
a/n: scheduled post as i am away at a new years music festival with my friends :] i will be back with you all in a few days <3
The first time you saw Spencer Reid was during a lecture hall mix-up in your second week at the university. You had rushed in, clutching your notebook and hoping to secure a spot before the professor started, only to find yourself in a room filled with students much older than you. At the center of it all, there he was—leaning casually against the podium, flipping through a worn-out book with an intensity that made the rest of the world blur around him.
He wasn’t the professor, but he might as well have been. His sharp, confident voice cut through the murmurs as he corrected an older man’s calculation on the whiteboard with such precision that the room seemed to collectively hold its breath. You’d learned his name that day from the whispers: Spencer Reid. The prodigy. The genius with more degrees than anyone knew what to do with.
From then on, he became a background character in your university life—a distant figure who seemed too brilliant, too out of reach, to exist in the same world as you. You heard the rumors, the awe-filled anecdotes: he’d started college as a child prodigy, aced every test like it was nothing, and was now juggling multiple Ph.D. programs.
Your own academic pursuits felt mundane in comparison. Sure, you worked hard, but you struggled. Like now, for instance, staring at the red marks slashing through your latest assignment—a problem set for your advanced statistics class.
“You’ve got potential, but you’re missing the fundamentals,” your professor said when you approached him after class, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “I’m assigning you a tutor.”
“A tutor?” you echoed, your stomach dropping. Group study sessions were bad enough; working one-on-one with someone felt like an invitation for them to witness your shortcomings up close.
“Don’t worry,” he said with a knowing smile. “You’ll be in good hands. I’ve paired you with one of the best.”
You didn’t know what to expect as you walked into the library that afternoon, clutching your notes so tightly your knuckles turned white. The email from your professor had given you nothing but a time and a name: Spencer Reid.
Your heart raced as you reached the designated table tucked into a quiet corner of the library. There he was, surrounded by open books and a tower of index cards, his familiar mop of brown hair falling into his eyes as he scribbled something into a notebook. He looked up when you approached, his hazel eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you freeze in place.
“You’re here for tutoring?” he asked, his voice softer than you expected, though no less confident.
You nodded quickly, struggling to find your words. “Y-yeah, I’m… I’m Y/N. My professor said you’d be helping me with stats?”
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gestured for you to sit. “Let’s get started, then.”
As you settled into the chair across from him, you couldn’t help but feel like you were stepping into another universe—one where Spencer Reid wasn’t just the untouchable genius you’d admired from afar but someone real, someone tangible, someone who, for the first time, was looking directly at you.
You weren’t sure what you expected Spencer Reid’s tutoring style to be, but it certainly wasn’t this. You’d assumed he might be aloof, perhaps brisk, throwing around jargon you’d struggle to keep up with. Instead, he was patient—meticulously breaking down concepts into manageable pieces while his pen skated effortlessly across his notebook.
Not that you could focus on much of it.
His presence was… distracting. The way his long fingers tapped thoughtfully against the edge of the table, the faint crease between his brows when he explained something particularly tricky, the way his lips pursed as he considered your answer before gently redirecting you to the correct one. All of it sent your mind spiraling into a whirlwind of thoughts that had nothing to do with statistics.
“Does that make sense?” Spencer asked, tilting his head as his hazel eyes searched yours.
You blinked, realizing too late that you hadn’t heard a single word of his explanation. Heat rushed to your face as you fumbled for a response. “Um, yeah! Totally. Makes sense.”
He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was fighting back a smile. “Really? Then can you explain why we divide by the square root of the sample size in this calculation?”
Panic flared in your chest. “Oh, uh… because it… balances the equation?” you ventured weakly.
Spencer set his pen down, leaning back slightly as he studied you. There was something disarming about the way he looked at you, like he could see straight through the flustered exterior you were so desperately trying to hold together. And, knowing Spencer Reid, he probably could.
“You’re nervous,” he said, not unkindly, but with the clinical precision of someone stating a fact.
Your breath hitched. “What? No, I’m fine!” you lied, your voice raising an octave.
He tilted his head, his gaze softening. “It’s okay,” he said gently. “A lot of people feel overwhelmed during one-on-one tutoring. It’s a different kind of pressure.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the sincerity in his tone stopped you. He wasn’t mocking you or trying to make you feel small. If anything, he seemed… concerned.
“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” he continued, his voice almost soothing now. “Because if you’re too focused on feeling self-conscious, it’s going to be harder for you to process the material.”
You nodded, unable to find your voice. Spencer smiled—a small, reassuring curve of his lips—and slid his notebook closer to you.
“Let’s try this,” he said, switching tactics. “Instead of diving into the calculations right away, let’s talk about what you’re struggling with conceptually. No pressure, no judgment. Just a conversation.”
That did help, marginally. His calm demeanor and methodical approach were like a balm to your frazzled nerves. But every now and then, he’d catch you staring at him for a beat too long, your mind wandering to thoughts that had nothing to do with statistics. Each time, his gaze would flicker with amusement, like he knew exactly what was going through your head but was too polite to say anything.
By the time the session ended, your brain felt like it had been wrung out like a sponge—not just from the math but from the sheer effort of keeping yourself together in his presence. As you packed up your things, Spencer handed you a few pages of handwritten notes.
“These should help,” he said, his voice still as calm and steady as ever. “And if you have questions before our next session, feel free to email me.”
You nodded, clutching the notes like a lifeline. “Thanks. I’ll, um… I’ll do that.”
As you walked away, you could feel his eyes on you, warm and curious. And though you were mortified at how obvious your flustered state had been, a tiny part of you couldn’t help but hope he didn’t mind.
You were determined to be better this time. You’d spent hours poring over the notes Spencer had given you, even rewatching a few recorded lectures for good measure. If you couldn’t control the embarrassing way your brain short-circuited around him, the least you could do was come prepared.
But as you approached the table in the library’s corner and saw him already seated, legs crossed, pen twirling lazily between his fingers, you realized preparation could only take you so far. He looked up as you neared, his hazel eyes lighting up briefly in acknowledgment.
“Hi,” you managed, your voice sounding far too breathy for your liking.
“Hi,” he replied, a slight smile playing on his lips as he motioned for you to sit. “Ready to dive in?”
You nodded quickly, lowering yourself into the chair and flipping open your notebook. Spencer wasted no time launching into a review of last session’s material, but as he began sketching out a new problem, you felt your focus slipping again.
It wasn’t your fault, really. Who could concentrate with him looking like that? His hair was slightly messier than last time, a few stray curls brushing against his forehead. He chewed absentmindedly on the cap of his pen as he thought, the motion inexplicably captivating. And when he leaned forward to jot down a formula, the faint scent of his cologne hit you, warm and woodsy, leaving your thoughts spiraling once more.
“Did you catch that?” Spencer’s voice cut through your haze. You blinked, realizing you’d been staring—again.
“S-sorry. What?” you stammered, gripping your pen like it might anchor you to reality.
His lips quirked up, amusement flickering in his eyes. “I was asking if you understood why we’re using a t-distribution here instead of a z-distribution.”
“Oh! Uh… yes?” you said uncertainly.
Spencer chuckled, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “You’re lying.”
Your stomach dropped, and you immediately ducked your head, cheeks flaming. “I’m not lying,” you mumbled.
“You are,” he said, and though his tone was light, there was an unmistakable confidence in his words. “Your body language gave it away. You looked down and shifted in your chair when you answered, which is a pretty common tell.”
You groaned softly, mortified. “Okay, fine. I don’t know why we’re using it.”
“See? That’s progress.” He grinned, and you could swear there was a hint of mischief in his expression. “But I can’t help noticing that your attention seems… elsewhere.”
Your head snapped up at that, your wide eyes meeting his. “What? No! I’m paying attention.”
Spencer tilted his head, his smile widening slightly. “Really? Then why do you keep staring at me?”
Your heart practically stopped. “I’m not—I wasn’t—I mean—” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a flustered mess, and his grin only grew more pronounced.
“It’s fine,” he said smoothly, cutting off your babbling. “I just couldn’t help but notice. You’ve been doing it since last session.”
Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “I wasn’t staring,” you lied weakly.
His gaze held yours, unwavering and far too knowing. “You were,” he countered, his voice low and teasing now. “But I’m curious—why?”
“I wasn’t—” You stopped yourself, realizing you were only digging the hole deeper. “I’m just… thinking.”
“Thinking?” His eyebrows lifted slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “About the statistics, or something else?”
You wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole. “The statistics,” you said firmly, though your voice wavered.
Spencer let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and almost smug. “If you say so.”
He leaned forward again, his elbows resting on the table, and you felt the air shift between you. “For what it’s worth,” he said, his tone softer now, “it’s not a bad thing. People observe things they find interesting.”
The words hung in the air, and you swore your pulse echoed in your ears. You couldn’t tell if he was being matter-of-fact or if there was a deeper implication in his statement, but the knowing glint in his eyes kept you from relaxing.
“Let’s try again,” he said after a beat, tapping his pen against the notebook and effortlessly shifting the conversation back to math. But the playful smirk that lingered on his face for the rest of the session made it clear: he wasn’t letting you off the hook that easily.
When you arrived at your usual table in the library, Spencer was already there, meticulously arranging his materials. His long fingers smoothed out the corner of a page in his notebook, and he glanced up as you approached, offering a small smile that made your stomach flutter despite your best efforts to stay composed.
“Hi,” you greeted softly, sliding into your seat.
“Hi,” he replied, his voice warm and low. “Ready to tackle some more statistics?”
You nodded, pulling out your notebook and pen. He scooted his chair slightly closer—not enough to be obvious, but enough that you could feel the faintest brush of his knee against yours under the table. You froze for a moment, unsure if it was intentional, but Spencer didn’t react.
“Okay,” he began, leaning toward you to sketch out a problem. As he wrote, his shoulder nudged yours lightly. The contact was brief, but it left your skin tingling.
“Let’s start with this,” he said, his pen gliding smoothly across the page. “We’re calculating confidence intervals today. Do you remember the formula from last time?”
You stared at the problem, willing yourself to focus, but the warmth of his proximity made it difficult. “Uh… I think so?”
“Let me jog your memory,” he said. His hand moved toward your notebook, his fingers brushing against yours as he adjusted it to face him. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you.
“Sorry,” he said casually, his eyes flicking to yours for a moment. “Didn’t mean to invade your space.”
“No, it’s fine,” you replied quickly, your voice higher than usual. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t a big deal, that the contact had been accidental. But then he leaned even closer, his arm grazing yours as he explained the formula.
“See how the standard error fits into this part?” he asked, his voice calm and steady.
You nodded, though you weren’t sure what you were agreeing to. It was impossible to concentrate with the way his sleeve brushed against yours, the subtle movement sending a ripple of awareness through you.
“Let’s work through this part together,” Spencer continued, his tone patient. He slid his hand over the notebook, his fingers brushing against yours again as he pointed to a specific number. The touch lingered just a fraction longer than necessary, but his expression remained neutral, as though he hadn’t noticed.
You couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or if you were imagining things. Either way, the warmth radiating from him was making your thoughts hazy.
“You okay?” he asked suddenly, his head tilting slightly as he looked at you.
“Yeah! Totally fine,” you said quickly, though your face felt like it was on fire.
He smiled, his expression soft but unreadable. “Good. Let me know if I’m going too fast.”
You nodded, gripping your pen tightly to ground yourself. But Spencer didn’t make it easy. Every time he reached for the notebook or gestured toward your notes, his hand would brush against yours. Once, he leaned forward to grab a pen, his shoulder pressing lightly into yours for a moment that felt both casual and deliberate.
By the time the session was over, your nerves were shot. Spencer handed you a fresh set of notes, his fingers grazing yours yet again as he passed them over.
“These should help,” he said, his voice soft and steady. “You’re doing better than you think, by the way.”
“Thanks,” you murmured, clutching the notes to your chest.
“Same time next week?” he asked, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual.
You nodded, too flustered to say much else. As you walked away, you replayed the session in your mind, questioning every subtle touch, every quiet moment of proximity. Was it intentional, or were you imagining things?
The worst part was that you couldn’t tell—and that you didn’t really mind either way.
You weren’t sure why you’d agreed to have Spencer tutor you at your place. The library felt safer somehow, more neutral. But when he’d suggested it—citing the possibility of fewer distractions—you’d found yourself nodding without a second thought.
Now, as you sat across from him at your small dining table, you were second-guessing every decision that had led to this moment.
“Nice place,” Spencer said as he set his bag down and took in the cozy, slightly cluttered room. His eyes lingered on a stack of books by the couch. “Suits you.”
“Thanks,” you replied, fidgeting with your pen. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting company, so it’s kind of messy.”
He gave you a small smile, his gaze warm and easy. “It’s fine. Ready to get started?”
You nodded, grateful for the excuse to focus on something—anything—other than the fact that Spencer Reid, in all his impossibly distracting glory, was sitting in your home.
For the first few minutes, you managed to keep things professional. Spencer explained a complex concept with his usual precision, and you actually managed to follow along. But then he leaned closer, pointing out a detail in your notes, and you felt that now-familiar flutter in your chest.
“You’ve got the right idea,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You just need to be more precise here.”
He tapped the edge of the page, his hand brushing yours in the process. The contact was brief but enough to make your breath hitch.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing up at you with those impossibly perceptive eyes.
“Yeah, fine,” you said quickly, though your voice betrayed you.
Spencer’s lips quirked, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours under the table. It felt so casual, so natural, that you couldn’t decide if it was intentional.
For a while, he kept his focus on the notes, but his proximity seemed to grow with each passing moment. The air between you felt charged, like static electricity, and you could feel your resolve slipping.
“So,” Spencer said suddenly, leaning back in his chair and studying you with an intensity that made your pulse race, “how are you finding these sessions so far?”
“They’re good,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Really helpful.”
“Helpful,” he repeated, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “You sure about that?”
“Of course,” you replied, glancing up at him.
His eyes locked onto yours, and the weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear. “You seem… distracted sometimes.”
“I’m not distracted,” you said defensively, though the heat rising to your cheeks said otherwise.
Spencer leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His voice dropped slightly, the teasing edge unmistakable. “Are you sure? Because I get the feeling you’ve been paying more attention to me than the math.”
Your stomach flipped, and you looked down, trying to steady your breathing. “That’s not true,” you muttered.
“Isn’t it?” he asked, his tone soft but insistent.
Before you could respond, he reached out, his fingers grazing yours as he took the pen from your hand. The movement was slow, deliberate, and it left your skin buzzing.
“Relax,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just helping.”
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. He leaned closer, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.
“Spencer…” you began, your voice shaky.
“Yes?” he murmured, his gaze flicking to your lips for the briefest of moments.
You couldn’t move, couldn’t think. The tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you.
Spencer’s hand moved slightly, his fingers brushing against yours again. This time, the touch lingered, deliberate and unmistakable. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he said softly, his voice low and steady.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you found yourself leaning ever so slightly toward him, your body betraying you before your mind could catch up.
That was all the confirmation he needed.
With a slow, careful movement, Spencer closed the distance between you, his hand resting lightly on yours as he tilted his head. The kiss, when it came, was soft and tentative, like he was giving you every opportunity to pull away.
But you didn’t.
Instead, you leaned into him, your heart pounding as you let yourself get lost in the moment. When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of curiosity and something deeper.
“Still distracted?” he asked, a small, teasing smile tugging at his lips.
Your heart thundered in your chest as his words hung in the air. You couldn’t decide if the heat coursing through you was from the kiss or the way he was looking at you—like you were the most fascinating puzzle he’d ever encountered.
“Very,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
His smile widened slightly, but it wasn’t the smug grin you expected. It was softer, almost tender, though his eyes still carried that flicker of mischief.
“Maybe we should take a break,” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost inviting.
You nodded, your breath catching as he stood and motioned toward the couch in the living room. You followed him, your nerves on edge but your body moving of its own accord.
The moment you sat down, the tension between you snapped like a rubber band. Spencer hesitated for a fraction of a second, as though giving you one last chance to stop him, before leaning in again.
This time, there was nothing tentative about it. His lips met yours with more certainty, his hand sliding up to cup your jaw as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as the kiss grew more fervent.
Spencer shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours as his free hand settled on your waist. The pressure was light, grounding, but it sent a shiver down your spine all the same. His thumb traced a small, absent-minded circle against your side, and the simple motion made your thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind.
You tilted your head slightly, allowing him to angle the kiss more deeply. He responded immediately, his fingers threading into your hair as he pulled you closer. The world outside your apartment ceased to exist, leaving only the heat of his body and the intoxicating pull of his lips against yours.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Spencer’s forehead rested lightly against yours, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he caught his breath.
“I think,” he said after a moment, his voice rougher than usual, “we’ve officially crossed into not studying territory.”
You laughed softly, your hands still clutching the front of his shirt. “You think?”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before leaning back just enough to meet your gaze. His fingers lingered on your waist, and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.
“You’re full of surprises, you know,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek.
“Me?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “You’re the one who—”
Before you could finish, he kissed you again, effectively silencing any protest. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring every second. You sighed against his lips, your hands sliding up to his shoulders as you gave in to the moment.
Spencer’s hands, steady but careful, slid down from your waist to rest on your hips. He shifted closer, and you felt the subtle press of his body against yours, his touch firm but never overwhelming. When his knee nudged between your legs, your breath hitched, the pressure sparking a warmth that spread through you like wildfire.
You froze for half a second, unsure if the movement had been intentional, but Spencer didn’t pull back. Instead, his lips moved against yours with more intent, and his hands tightened ever so slightly on your hips, guiding you just enough for the tension between you to crackle and deepen.
“Is this okay?” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Yes,” you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders more tightly as you let yourself lean into him.
Encouraged by your response, Spencer deepened the kiss, his knee pressing more firmly between your thighs. The sensation was maddeningly slow, his movements deliberate and measured as though he was testing every reaction. You gasped softly, and he swallowed the sound with a small, satisfied hum.
His hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing against your ribs just beneath the hem of your shirt. The touch was gentle, but the heat of his palms against your skin left you trembling.
He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “I’m going to ask you a question from one of our sessions. If you get it right, I’ll keep going. If you don’t…” His hands stilled against your skin, and he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his smirk growing. “Well, I’ll have to stop.”
Your mouth went dry. Was he serious? The challenge in his eyes told you he absolutely was.
“Spencer…” you started, your voice shaky with anticipation and a tinge of frustration.
“Hm?” he prompted, his hands sliding down slightly but remaining just beneath your shirt, a silent reminder of what was at stake. “What’s the formula for calculating a confidence interval?”
You stared at him, your mind scrambling to recall the formula you’d seen so many times in your notes. But all you could focus on was the way his fingers were still, waiting, as though they held the key to your ability to think.
“Um,” you began, your voice faltering. “It’s, uh, the mean… plus or minus… the critical value?”
Spencer’s smirk widened, his head tilting slightly as though he was considering your answer. “Close,” he said, his hands retreating slightly. “But not quite. Want to try again?”
“No, wait!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing as you tried to focus. “The mean plus or minus the critical value times the standard error?”
He hummed softly, his fingers resuming their slow circles. “There it is,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “See? You can focus when you want to.”
Your heart pounded as his hands slid higher, his thumbs brushing dangerously close to the underside of your bra. The sensation was enough to make your breath hitch, but you barely had time to react before he spoke again.
“Next question,” he said, his tone taking on a slightly firmer edge. “What’s the first step in solving a regression problem?”
Your brain felt like it had been set on fire. How were you supposed to remember academic concepts when his hands were touching you like this?
“I—I think…” you stammered, biting your lip as you tried to focus. “The first step is… identifying the variables?”
Spencer’s brow lifted, his expression a mix of amusement and approval. “Good,” he said, his hands sliding back down to your waist. “But don’t forget to check your assumptions first. Details matter.”
You let out a soft whine of frustration, but the sound turned into a gasp as his knee pressed gently between your legs again, reigniting the fire building in your core.
“You’re doing well,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your jaw as he spoke. “But I think you can do better.”
The challenge in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your resolve crumbling under the weight of his attention.
“What’s the difference between Type I and Type II errors?” he asked, his tone almost clinical despite the heat radiating from him.
“Type I is… rejecting a true null hypothesis,” you managed, your voice shaky. “And Type II is failing to reject a false one.”
Spencer grinned, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth. “Excellent,” he said softly. “You’re such a quick learner when you try.”
The praise made your heart race, warmth blooming in your chest as his words sank in. You barely had a chance to respond before his hand slid lower, resting on the bare skin just above the waistband of your pants.
“You deserve a reward,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine.
“A reward?” you managed, your voice breathless and unsteady.
He chuckled softly, his lips moving to your neck, pressing a series of slow, deliberate kisses along the sensitive skin. “For all your hard work,” he murmured against your skin, his fingers toying with the elastic of your waistband. “Don’t you think you’ve earned it?”
Your only response was a soft, shaky nod, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as though it was the only thing keeping you grounded.
“Good girl,” he said, the words barely above a whisper, but they sent a jolt through your entire body.
His hand slipped beneath the fabric of your pants, his touch deliberate and teasing as he traced the edge of your panties. He paused for a moment, his lips ghosting over your ear as he murmured, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with certainty.
That was all the permission he needed. His hand slipped lower, his fingers sliding beneath the fabric of your panties to find your most sensitive spot. The first touch was light, almost experimental, but it was enough to make you gasp softly, your body arching into him.
“That’s it,” Spencer murmured, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. “You’re doing so well.”
His fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, the pressure just enough to leave you trembling in his grasp. His other hand slid up to cup your jaw, tilting your head slightly so he could capture your lips in another searing kiss.
The contrast between his steady, controlled movements and the growing intensity of his kisses was intoxicating, leaving you completely at his mercy. He broke the kiss just long enough to study your face, his eyes dark with desire but filled with a surprising tenderness.
“Look at you,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You’re so beautiful like this.”
The praise made your cheeks flush, but before you could respond, his fingers pressed more firmly against you, drawing a soft whimper from your lips.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight kiss. “So responsive. So perfect.”
His words and touch combined left you completely undone, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. All you could do was cling to him, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continued his slow, deliberate exploration.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
taglist: @opheliahotchner
976 notes · View notes
theonion · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
A new study published this week in the journal Animal Behaviour revealed that house cats only meow when they want to alert their owners that they just witnessed a neighbor’s murder while looking out a window. “Through direct observation and analysis of feline vocal patterns, we were able to confirm that the sound commonly known as a ‘meow’ is in fact a signal that a gruesome homicide has just been committed next door,” said study’s author and King’s College professor Debra T. Shen, Ph.D., noting that if a cat meows during the day, it has seen a shooting or stabbing, whereas a nighttime meow indicates death by strangulation.
Full Story
447 notes · View notes
darlingdaisyfarm · 6 months ago
Text
。°✩ for academic purposes only .ᐟ.ᐟ
Every month Ford experiences the same cycle: scientific curiosity, self-restraint and complete obliteration. He should’ve known better
tags: nsfw, Ford Pines aka uterus researcher, established relationship, nerdy Ford, periods, cycle, journaling, mentions of sex, period sex, breeding kink if u squint, Ford's notes
i would like to personally thank the female reproductive system bc this is the only reason this fic exists
Tumblr media
JOURNAL ENTRY — CYCLE ANALYSIS BY DR. STANFORD F. PINES, PH.D. (MULTIPLE FIELDS), AUTHOR OF JOURNALS 1, 2 AND 3, MAN OF SCIENCE, CURRENTLY IN AN INCREDIBLY GRATIFYING AND SCIENTIFICALLY ENLIGHTENING RELATIONSHIP.
SUBJECT: (your name), hereafter referred to as my darling, my sweetheart, my love, my starlight (edit later, leave for now), follows a standard 28-day cycle, but their body’s response to each stage is something i cannot help but study with rapt fascination
STUDY FOCUS: menstrual cycle behavioural & physiological analysis (personal, HIGHLY CONFIDENTIAL!!!)
OBSERVATIONAL PERIOD: (start date - present)
FOR SCIENCE & DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE I’M OBSESSED
INTRODUCTION:
oh, my starlight, if you ever find this... i am a dead man. but in the interest of science (and, let’s be honest, my own hopeless fascination with you), i must document this properly. perhaps i should hide it somewhere impenetrable, but then again, i do enjoy re-reading my notes and recalling particularly... captivating instances. must deliberate further.
the goal of this entry? to analyse, in the most thorough and detailed manner possible, the profound effects of your cycle, particularly your most intimate needs and behaviours!
(personal note: this is entirely scientific. definitely. well. mostly. fine, i just want to remember every last detail of you and the way you change through each phase, but can you blame me? you are the most enthralling subject i have ever studied.)
It is a truth universally acknowledged that i, Stanford Filbrick Pines, have been fortunate enough to conduct one of the most fascinating, perplexing and occasionally overwhelming studies of my entire academic career. This, of course, refers to the ongoing, deeply personal and intensively hands-on analysis of my partner's menstrual cycle and its profound effects on both their physiology and our shared... extracurricular activities.
(hands-on research is, naturally, a critical aspect of any thorough investigation. i am, above all, a diligent scientist.)
HYPOTHESIS: her cycle influences not only her physiological state but our shared activities in ways that, if charted correctly, could allow for optimal... performance calibration.
(note: i should really not phrase it like that. sounds terribly perverse. i am a scientist, not a deranged old man. though, considering my reaction to certain phases of this cycle i fear i may be both)
PHASE ONE: FOLLICULAR (DAYS 1-14, PRE-OVULATION)
The luteinizing hormone (lh) surge initiates ovulation and its effects on behaviour are undeniable.
PHYSIOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS INCLUDE:
• Estrogen levels increase, this means brighter eyes and faster speech. Energy levels rise noticeably, leading to an increase in spontaneous affectionate behavior as hand-holding, lap-sitting, casual nudity. I am holding myself together. barely
• Playful disposition increases, resulting in (very welcome) teasing remarks, touches, and moments of flirtation.
• My sweetheart is adorable, she moves so much. Paces while talking, gestures wildly, kisses me mid-sentence before running off to do something else.
(PERSONAL NOTE: My partner's thighs. have i ever properly documented my fascination with them? i should dedicate a separate entry. but her thighs during this phase are soft and firm, strong but yielding. When she wraps them around my waist, i momentarily lose my ability to process coherent thought.)
Arousal is present but manageable. My love enjoys teasing, initiating long, drawn-out foreplay, but not rushing into things. A preference for languid, exploratory touches, lazy morning sex where she can take her time riding me while still half-asleep.
PREFERRED POSITIONS & BEHAVIORAL NOTES:
• Tends to straddle me while talking, seemingly unaware of its effects. (This is a problem, i cannot concentrate.)
• Kisses are more playful than desperate.
• Lower cervix position = deeper penetration is easier, but subject’s own preference leans toward grinding rather than thrusting.
Overall: delightful Somewhat distracting, but so attractive.
PHASE TWO: OVULATORY PHASE (DAYS 14–17, PEAK FERTILITY)
PERSONAL NOTE: Oh. Oh no. Oh yes.
I am a mere man, defenseless against these biochemical weapons of seduction.
PHYSIOLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS INCLUDE:
• touch frequency escalates, subject initiates physical contact at a staggering (and frankly overwhelming) rate, often in seemingly innocuous ways that, due to my unfortunate hypersensitivity to her presence, result in considerable mental derailment.
• spontaneous arousal occurrences, seemingly triggered by voice depth, prolonged eye contact or even minor dominance cues
• her behaviour changes entirely. she becomes insatiable. restless. demanding.
• physical responsiveness is heightened, tactile stimulation along the spine, lower abdomen or inner thighs elicits a near-instantaneous shivering reaction.
• specific positional preferences emerge:
deep, cervix-targeting angles become more desirable, despite previous sensitivities.
• my darling climbs onto my lap, straddles me, kisses me until i can no longer form coherent thoughts. (note: i have, on three separate occasions, nearly dropped whatever i was holding due to this. once, it was coffee. another time, a priceless extraterrestrial artefact. the third time, my own dignity.)
PERSONAL NOTE: i find myself gravitating toward her like a man under some primitive compulsion.
PERSONAL NOTE: she told me, quite bluntly, that she “needs to feel me ruin her“ and then proceeded to climb into my lap and grind against me until i blacked out momentarily. truly, i have never been more in love.
OBSERVABLE SIGNS OF OVULATION:
• skin luminescence enhancement (note: skin is glowing. literally. did i hallucinate that? no. confirmed under direct lighting. biologically unfair!)
• heightened blood circulation leads to noticeably rosier cheeks, increased nipple sensitivity and a subtle but consistent warmth in the lower abdominal region.
• cervix sits higher, softens significantly; vaginal walls remain in a persistent state of involuntary contraction. arousal response time is astoundingly low, mere seconds of stimulation elicit immediate lubrication. (note: nearly passed out the first time i confirmed this.)
• body appears primed for contact; she leans into touch more, presses against me absentmindedly, makes these little “ah” whimpering noises if i pull away. (note: this is devastatingly effective at reducing my cognitive function to near-zero.)
MORE BEHAVIOURAL OBSERVATIONS:
• heightened assertiveness (dear god.)
• sustained eye contact (i am sweating.)
• subconscious body language cues, what means increased proximity-seeking, enhanced hip sway while walking (i am so normal about this. so incredibly normal.)
• direct verbal cues. e.g. "Ford, come here. sit down. let me straddle you." (???????)
• tactile seeking: my darling cannot stop touching me. fingers constantly curled into my clothes, tracing my chest, sliding under my coat. at one point, she pressed her face against my neck, inhaled deeply and whined. (note: i lost the ability to speak for a full minute.)
• vocabulary exhibits a marked increase in expletives and breathier, higher-pitched intonations. (example: during an encounter last night, she gripped my wrist, dragged my hand between her legs, and in a very insistent tone, said: “Ford, please, please, i need you, i need your mouth, your fingers, fuck, do something“ )
MORE DIRECT QUOTES FROM SUBJECT:
"Ford, if you don’t fuck me right now, i am going to lose my goddamn mind."
"I need you inside me. Now. No, i said now, why are you taking notes, oh my god—“
Unintelligible noises followed by what i can only describe as a feral growl.
PERSONAL NOTE TO SELF:
• do not attempt to maintain professional detachment. it is already lost.
• i swear, my starlight could ask me to hand over my life's work in exchange for kissing her ankle and i would do it without hesitation.
Most devastatingly, she becomes particularly receptive to deeper penetration and—
(note: pause. breathe. do not combust while writing this.)
The increased cervical softening allows for an absolutely devastating depth. She can take every inch of me, every grind against her cervix without discomfort. In fact, she moans for it! Begs for it, pulls me closer, gasping into my mouth, her nails biting into my back, telling m—
(note: take a cold shower.)
Scientifically speaking, her body is in peak condition for conception... and im fully aware of this fact, because every time she tightens around me, i—
(note: for god’s sake, Stanford, edit this later.)
EXPERIMENTAL OBSERVATION: INTERCOURSE DURING OVULATION
PERSONAL NOTE: i am not a young man but good lord.
SECONDARY PERSONAL NOTE: i need to start doing cardiovascular training if this is going to continue.
By compellingly, sexual appetite during this phase escalates significantly. Vocalisations become more uninhibited, involuntary muscle contractions increase, lubrication levels heighten and orgasmic response is intensified.
additional note: psychological implications are equally profound. subject’s confidence peaks, decision-making speed increases, and overall emotional resilience is heightened.
my sweetheart looked in the mirror today and said she looks beautiful. so proud of my love!:)
TEST ENVIRONMENT: my bedroom
SUBJECT STATE: ovulatory phase, heightened sensory sensitivitу
FORD PINES STATE: near-critical (hypothesis: excessive arousal may cause cognitive collapse. further testing required.)
POSING & ANGLES ANALYSIS: 
BACK-ARCHED, HIPS LIFTED (MISSIONARY VARIANT)
• her legs wrap around my waist immediately, locking me in place. (potential psychological factor: subconscious desire for security??? note: must investigate further. once i regain coherent thought post-orgasm)
• verbal responses increase by 63%. (examples: "oh my god, oh my god, Ford—“ , “please, please, deeper—“,  ”you feel so fucking good—“ etc.)
• cervical pressure is heightened (noted increase in breathy whimpers + desperate fingernail digging into my back)
• direct quote: “Ford, oh my god, deeper, i can feel you in my stomach—” (instant system failure on my end.)
• notable reaction when wrists are pinned above her head triggers rapid pulse, dilated pupils, small, breathy "oh—oh, god—" sounds. (note: physically difficult to maintain composure. potential solution: don’t maintain composure at all.)
• deep penetration, cervix stimulation. position: legs over shoulders. mating press, I think it’s called? anyways. EFFECT: immediate physiological surrender. my darling trembles, clutches at my arms, lets out a breathless, high-pitched little whines and, frankly, i nearly black out from how tight she gets. (note: jesus Ford.)
FACESITTING (I am a ruined man.)
• her hands in my hair, breathy little moans every time my tongue moves. (note: muscle control significantly reduced. fascinating!!)
• grip on my hair tightens when i lap at her clit. (involuntary response: bucking forward. possibly subconscious attempt at deeper pressure?)
• when i grab her waist and press her down harder, she makes this high and loud moan. (note: if i were a weaker man, i would be dead now)
STRADDLING, HIPS ROLLED FORWARD (COWGIRL VARIANT)
• optimal clitoral stimulation (highly enjoyable for both parties)
• direct quote: “Just—just let me use you, okay?”
ON HER SIDE, LEG HOOKED OVER MY SHOULDER 
• deep angle, excessive wetness and overwhelming intimacy
• one of our favourite 
• direct quote: “mmh, feels so good like this—so full.” (i nearly perished.)
BACKSHOT POSITION (EXTENDED DEEP-PENETRATION STUDY):
• initial hypothesis: deeper angle = greater cervical stimulation = heightened pleasure response
• confirmed within seconds. (note: DEAR GOD)
• subject reaction was immediate, sharp gasp upon first thrust. “f—fuck, Ford—ahh, god, right there—” (approx. 5 seconds in.)
“harder—please, please, deeper—“ (approx. 10 seconds in.)
loss of verbal coherence entirely (approx. 20 seconds in.)
• secondary observation: gripping her hips tighter makes her whimper. lifting her slightly higher makes her sob. both are important scientific findings!!
CERVICAL & WOMB-BASED RESPONSES:
• during ovulation, cervix sits higher and softens.
hypothesis: so subject can take deeper penetration with heightened pleasure rather than discomfort!
• confirmed within minutes. (note: will require many, many additional tests.)
• increased suction effect!! vaginal walls clench rhythmically, pulling me deeper. (note: brain ceased function entirely.)
• post-orgasm aftershocks. body remains hypersensitive, resulting in continued involuntary clenching even after climax
ADDITIONAL PHENOMENA:
• reduced patience for direct verbal requests for “breeding,” “filling,” “stuffing,” and other absolutely ruinous terminology.
• noteworthy psychological change. my darling displays an urgent need for full mating contact, requesting (or rather, insisting) that i “stay inside her” for extended periods following climax.
• direct cervical stimulation leads to involuntary whimpering, eye rolling, toe-curling and full-body tremors.
• personal weakness: gasping "right there, right there, right there" when i find the precise angle.
• frequent biting. of me. everywhere. lip marks on my neck, my lips, collarbone. teeth sinking into my shoulder while she’s clenching around me. (i am barely holding myself together.)
• if whispered praise is added (e.g., "you’re so good for me, sweetheart. taking me so perfectly."), subject exhibits full-body shudder and involuntary clenching.
DAY 15. ovulatory window confirmed. direct quote: “Ford, darling, put a baby in me.”........
oh. oh no. at that moment, i momentarily lost all ability to form rational thought. my cognitive processes flatlined. my only active function was a reaction i cannot, in good conscience, document further.
DIRECT RESPONSE (APPROXIMATE, AS MEMORY WAS COMPROMISED): incoherent groan and desperate, feral sort of growl.
PSYCHOLOGICAL IMPACT AFTER INTIMATE INTERCOURSE
• my sweetheart exhibits increased need for physical closeness, wrapping arms around me, nuzzling against my chest, making small, satisfied sounds
• ..... notably, i appear to be suffering the same symptoms
CLIMAX ANALYSIS (Stanford its 4 am, go to slee-)
• observable full-body tremors. internal muscular spasms. impossible to quantify pleasure levels. scale is inadequate.
• immediate cognitive dysfunction:
post-ejaculation speech delay (~12 seconds).
• loss of motor function (i collapse.)
• mild dissociation... ("did that happen in real life or was that an interdimensional hallucination?")
my partner's response: laughter and lots of kisses to my jaw and cheeks
PHASE THREE: LUTEAL PHASE (DAYS 17–28, PRE MENSTRUAL)
my darling gets so sensitive, becomes more prone to snuggling, less prone to teasing. libido fluctuates, but when it spikes, it is sudden and intense.
PERSONAL NOTE: there is nothing more arousing than her needy little whines when she pulls my hands to her chest and begs me to touch her...
NOTABLE BEHAVIOURAL PATTERNS:
• my love's body craves touch, warmth and closeness. she nuzzles into me, sighs when i wrap my arms around her. she likes to lay against my chest, my hand on her stomach, whispering soft praises
• partner exhibits heightened emotional sensitivity, cravings for both physical closeness and specific foods (namely chocolate, pickles, and, perplexingly, peanut butter straight from the jar.)
PERSONAL NOTE: she wrapped herself around me like a koala for two hours yesterday. i had work to do. i did none of it! none!
• sexual behaviour, as mentioned earlier, changes too. desire remains, but preference for gentler stimulation, extended foreplay, full-body contact. intimacy rather than urgency
• preference for slow, deep sex love making. (lengthy sessions. multiple orgasms. excessive praise.) strong desire for full-body contact. (chest to chest, fingers tangled, whispered affirmations.)
• occasional bursts of frustration where she demands to be "fucked properly" (????)
PROGESTERONE RISES, INCLUDING:
• metabolic increase when subject’s caloric intake rises; a preference for carbohydrate-dense, sodium-rich foods emerges, possibly due to fluctuating serotonin levels! (personal note: adorable little thing)
PET NAMES INTRODUCED DURING THIS PERIOD:
“sweetheart” (first observed: day 19, after she clung to my arm for 45 minutes and refused to let go while I was attempting to type.)
“honey” (first observed: day 22, when she started nesting in my sweater like a small irritated woodland creature)
“my love” (first observed: day 25, whispered against her hair while she buried herself under the covers and only emerged when I bribed her with hot chocolate)
"my poor, sweet, overdramatic thing" (day 26, when she claimed she was “literally dying” because I made her get out of bed for two minutes)
MORE OBSERVATIONS:
• subject requires constant touch, if no direct contact is made, pouting will occur.
• breasts become unbearably sensitive. (this has led to certain.... incidents. in which i was scolded for touching when i was explicitly given permission. this is unfair!)
PREFERRED POSITIONS & BEHAVIOURAL NOTES:
• will climb onto me at any given opportunity. (even while i am working.)
• slow, deep wnd intimate contact. heavy emphasis on cervical stimulation, warmth, closeness.
• soft praise required. frequent affirmations, reassurances. (she is particularly receptive to hearing how “beautiful” she is. which is, frankly, an objective truth.)
PERSONAL NOTE: her emotional state during this time, I ADORE IT. my darling needs comfort, touch and reassurance, and, well, i am only human. if she asks me to hold her, i will. if she asks me to lay on top of her and just be warm, i will. if she tells me she wants to feel full, wants to feel every inch of me keeping her safe wants me to tell her how much she is loved... well.
SECONDARY PERSONAL NOTE: she really, really likes when i call her “smart girl”
PERSONAL NOTE: i have no complaints. zero. none. absolutely none :)
MENSTRUAL PHASE (DAYS 1–5, ACTIVE BLEEDING)
initially, i had hypothesized that sexual activity during this phase would be uncomfortable or at the very least, unappealing to the subject. i was incorrect.
shedding of the endometrial lining initiates vascular dilation, heightened temperature and uterine contractions.
PRIMARY OBSERVATIONS INCLUDE:
• temperature regulation is disrupted, subject experiences fluctuations between feverish warmth and sudden chills. skin remains notably softer during this phase
• muscular fatigue, increased joint tension, my darling often seeks massage therapy, sustained compression (weighted blankets, my own body weight), and slow movement assistance.
• experiences waves of pain and discomfort, interspersed with unexpected surges of desire.
• blood viscosity is fascinating!!!!! color shifts from bright red (early days) to a deeper hue with occasional clotting (mid-phase). i have documented firsthand how the consistency changes during... se- various activities.
My sweetheart currently suffering the full physiological impact of uterine lining detachment, fluctuating between lethargy, irritability and an insatiable craving for attention, pressure, and snacks.
SCIENTIST’S DUTIES DURING THIS TIME:
• food preparation (nutrient-rich, iron-replenishing meals)
• pressure application (via full-body weight or strategic abdominal massages)
• endless patience (tested frequently)
EXPERIMENTAL CULINARY TRIALS
Partners nutritional intake fluctuates wildly during this phase. one moment, she craves salt; the next, sugar. she has, at times, demanded both simultaneously (a truly confounding biological mystery).
DAY 2 OF MENSTRUATION. my partner appeared lethargic, burrowed into blankets, making small, distressed noises whenever she moved
direct quote: “Ford, if i don’t get mac & cheese in the next ten minutes, i will die.”
counterargument: “you literally just ate an entire chocolate bar, honey”
Partner’s rebuttal: long, drawn-out groan followed by burrowing deeper and a tragic little sigh of suffering.
conclusion: i made the mac & cheese. i am weak
PERSONAL NOTE: my darling told me, quite shamelessly, that orgasms help her cramps. i told her, quite honestly, that i would be happy to conduct further research in this area ;)
DIRECT QUOTES FROM SUBJECT:
“Ford, it helps the cramps, please, this is literally medical.”
“Mmm, you’re so warm. No! don’t move, just stay inside me like that.”
SECONDARY PERSONAL NOTE: the psychological aspect of this is fascinating! the hormonal interplay of pain relief, emotional vulnerability, and deep, physical intimacy is something i should, theoretically, analyse further.
QUATERNARY PERSONAL NOTE: if i am not careful, i am going to end up proposing to this person during a study session.
of course reblogs/comments are always highly appreciated, but yeah, no pressure
717 notes · View notes