#if that is the case I think it ads a whole new level of weight for his decision to cut contacts and chill in Jackson like duuude

[ladydisofdurin]

waking up in an apocalypse world without ur daughter and immediately trying to kill urself is valid tbh 

[enasallavellan]

Results came back yesterday and it's not super good. The results were 'severely delayed gastric emptying'.

So, let me explain how this test works

1. Go in, get vitals, test glucose levels with a finger stick (ow), and a pregnancy test (formality).

2. Sit down and have a meal - and this was the biggest fucking meal I've had since May. Two pieces of white toast with strawberry jelly and two scrambled eggs laced with some sort of non harmful radioactive stuff to make it so the scan can watch.

If I threw it up, the test would be rendered inconclusive and I'd have to do it all over again.

They scan everything up, then I go back to the waiting room for an hour.

Rinse and repeat an additional four times, taking scans every hour.

So first hour, a health person would have 37-90% of the food still in the stomach - I had 87%

Second hour, 30-60% would be normal - I still had 78% of the meal.

By now - I'm fucking nauseous. I've given up on crocheting or writing because my goal is to not vomit so I don't have to do it again.

3rd hour, it's normal to have 10-29% of the food still in your stomach. I had FUCKING 73% still in there.

Fourth and final hour, a normal person would have less than 10% left.

I still had 61% of the meal in my stomach - until moments after the test concluded and I emptied the rest onto the floor.

Which was... just great. At least I was still in the testing area and not out in the waiting room yet.

This is why I've been unable to keep food down since May. This is why I've lost almost 25% of my original weight, been in the hospital, out of the hospital, in and out of urgent care, unable to work and currently have a nest in the bathroom in case I have a bad night and don't want to go back and forth.

As of now, the doc will contact me soon to let me know what the next step is. There's a lot of different things that can cause delayed gastric emptying, and since mine is labeled - 'severe' it does narrow some things down.

But can I just repeat that I ASKED MY FIRST DOCTOR TO TEST THIS IN JUNE?!

But she said, nooooo, I don't think it's that.

So yeah.

Unfortunately, there's no end in sight quite yet. My new doc was very honest when she told me it could still be months and months until I am able to work again.

So yeah, I'll leave my kofi if anyone is willing. I know I've begged a lot the last few months, but I just got shot down for any form of disability. My husband has scored some jobs that's going to keep us afloat, but as far as anything beyond that, it's kind of a no-go, and some wiggle room would be a comfort.

My kofi

Also, I somehow added a poll I can't figure out how to make go away, so for fun, give me a giggle and answer it.

[katybaby00]

sweet fairy

a/n: … hi guys… i’ve been a little mia… my bad… but life. with life comes new obsessions tho… so who’s complaining really? ANYWAY i hope you like this. i did use they/them/their for pronouns. i wanted to try, let me know whatcha think🥹 (edit): i def forgot to add

König x fairy!reader

to this… my bad. credits: dividers @cafekitsune / please please please go check their stuff out it’s amazing <3 warnings:none, maybe a teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint.

König has had a rather rough day, with training new recruits, paperwork, and his own training really taking its toll. He rolls his shoulder back to try and shake off some of the stress and anxiety. He runs his hand along his face over his sniper hood and sighs heavily. "Scheiße, es war ein langer Tag." he places his elbows on his knees as he leans forward in his office chair, creaking under his weight, cursing the long day.

He sits a little straighter as he remembers this small trail by the base that was rather peaceful the last time they were out on a training ruck. With it being summer as well, now would be perfekt, he decides then that's where he's going to spend his afternoon. As Konig reaches the trail and walks for a few moments feeling the summer breeze against his skin. He hears a hauntingly gentle melody coming from his right side in the forest. He tilts his head to the noise curiously and slowly makes his way towards it.

König hides and steps lightly around a big oak tree when a small wildflower meadow comes into view. he looks around the meadow. this is where the soft melody was coming from. "*Verdammt*." he whispers as he sits in front of the massive tree. He sits for a moment before he hears the melody again and this time it's practically lulling him to sleep.

His eyes pop open when he catches a glimpse of the source of this sweet song. You. A fairy. König watches you in awe your feet barely grazing the tops of the grass and flowers. Your every movement graceful and so delicate, but powerful. He couldn't move. His whole body rooted right to where he sat as he took in your magical presence. As the small fairy turns around and spots him their eyes lock for the first time, the little fairy's heart beating so fast.

The little fairy's wings flutter nervously as they watch the human. Eyes not leaving theirs in case he's a fairy hunter. König spots your wings and how you have begun to fidget nervously. "Easy there klein Fee." The man slowly stands and approaches you. "I'm not going to hurt you." He says to you gently. His tone and actions not betraying his words. The fairy slowly calms their breathing and their wings flutter softer now. Cautiously the fairy makes their way over to him.

"Easy now little one," his tone gentle and calm his German accent adding a touch of warmth to his words. " I mean you no harm, I promise." His hands come up in front of him in defense, trying to prover he's not a threat to your peaceful meadow. His broad figure looms over you, craning your neck to meet his gaze. The giant notices this and tries to make himself appear less intimidating by lowering onto one knee, bring himself closer to your level.

"Please forgive my intrusion. I could not help but tp hear your song it is peaceful." König says this and isn't actually sure if you understand him or not. "What brings you here? Are you the guardian of these woods?" he asks you curiously, attempting and hoping to establish some connection with you, however fleeting.

Darting their eyes left and then right then straight at the mans icy blue orbs. "I'm- I am Y/n Elreign, light fairy, guardian of the meadows." voice soft and ethereal as you speak to him. I gently float over closer to him and study his features. Never seeing a human before I'm naturally curious.

König's heart warms at the sound of your delicate voice, tinged with the ethereal melody that seems to surround you. "Pleasure to meet you Y/n, I am König. I am a soldier." He slowly leans back against the tree finding a comfortable position, he looks at you in wonder. "Tell me Y/n, what is it that you do as the guardian if the meadows?" he asks me this and I get a little giddy.

"oh! I am just the protector of the meadows. I make sure the animals are happy and the flowers grow." I tell König happily. I turn to a smaller flower that looks like it could use some kindness and I look up at König to make sure he's watching. I place my hands just above the flower and sparkling energy and light comes from my hands and gently brings the flower to life. I look up at König who seems to be smiling from ear to ear. "I do what I can." I say humbly. König who just thinks you're the most extraordinary being he's ever laid his eyes on, rolls his eyes at you. "Ich liebe es, dass du so viel mehr machst." König says this softly, his eyes looking over your tiny form.

I tilt my head curiously at what he said my ears never hearing that kind of voice and words before. The language new and fascinating. "Thank you, I think." I giggle and smile at König. I show him around the meadow and tell him about the different flowers and creatures that live in the meadow for a little while. Our company being enough for each other. I sit on top of a lavender bud and look up at him. "Thank you for not being like most humans." König's brow furrows slightly as he takes in your words. He doesn't quite understand what you mean.

Sharing what it's like to live in the Fae realm and learning all sorts of new things about earth. We can't help but be fascinated with one another. As we talk through the meadow I can't help but feel off, the wings on my back flutter cautiously, danger. I quickly fly into the air and search the outside of the meadow, but before I can make sure the meadow is safe I'm shot down out of the sky by a fairy net as it burns my skin when it tightens around my body and I hiss in pain.

Fairy hunters.

[dalesramblingsblog]

Brief Look at Judge Dredd Novels, Part XII: Black Atlantic by Simon Jowett and Peter J. Evans

Black Atlantic is one of those most pesky of Judge Dredd novels, namely coming from an author (or authors, as the case may be) for whom I have next to no context`as regards the general arc of their career. This is always a bit of a problem, given my fundamentally greater level of unfamiliarity with Judge Dredd and 2000 AD when compared with the hyperfixatory giddiness of my Doctor Who fandom.

The last time we came up against one of these novels, with John Grant's The Hundredfold Problem, matters were not helped by the decision to actively depart from the urban dystopia that most characterises the world of Mega-City One in favour of the Big Dunkin' Donut.

And to a certain extent, Black Atlantic repeats this trend, with the bulk of its action unfolding not in Mega-City One or the Cursed Earth or even Brit-Cit - I still miss Armitage and Steel, how soon we forget - but on the cityship Sargasso cruising the titular effluent-clogged expanse of water. Yet in other respects, this is an entirely different beast as compared to The Hundredfold Problem, and the most important of these differences is that... well, it's actually rather good, which helps matters.

I am not nearly familiar enough with the lore of 2000 AD to be able to say how established cityships were as a concept. However, whatever the truth of it may be, the setting is an evocative and fresh one that makes it clear that real thought has gone into envisioning how such a metropolis would actually function, while also providing fuel for some suitably impressive action set pieces later in the day.

Jowett and Evans also have a pleasantly fluid and readable prose style that manages to steadily turn up the heat with new obstacles without succumbing to the weight of incomprehensibility, which is always something of a balancing act in these novels given the inherently heightened world in which Dredd operates.

Yet that world, in Black Atlantic, is also peppered with a whole host of pretty endearing guest characters. The star of the show is undeniably Gethsemane Bane, captain of a mutant scavenger ship, but even the usually functionally anonymous set of Judges that accompany Dredd on his mission have some decently characterised members in the form of Peyton and Vix. Heck, members of Bane's crew that disappear for half the novel like Can-Rat and Angle feel more fully rounded than average.

(Larson and Adams, meanwhile, are... functionally anonymous Judges. Tellingly, they're the ones that get killed off, which is perhaps a bit cynical from a certain point of view, but no more so than Star Trek's redshirt policy.)

If all of this sounds rather generic on my part, well, this is mostly just a result of general exhaustion after having written as much stuff as I have these past few months. Black Atlantic is very, very enjoyable, and while I'd like to pick over its themes in a bit more depth, I think what I've written here suffices for now.

It's the first of the Black Flame novels that I would argue comes close to matching Virgin's Deathmasques as an introduction to the world of Judge Dredd, even as the bulk of its action unfolds outside of Mega-City One. After all, the same was true of Deathmasques.

So for now, twelve instalments in, I feel like that's a pretty good spot to leave the series. Of the first three Black Flame books, this is probably the first one I can wholeheartedly recommend you check out if you're interested.

I'll return to the Brief Look once I get back to writing up the 1998 Doctor Who novels, but until then the ranking stands as follows:

Dreddlocked

Deathmasques

Black Atlantic

Wetworks

Bad Moon Rising

Silencer

The Medusa Seed

Dread Dominion

Dredd vs Death

Cursed Earth Asylum

The Hundredfold Problem

The Savage Amusement

(Anyway, now that I get to enjoy the pleasure of reading things purely for the sake of reading them, I'm going to probably... eh, I dunno, might read some of the other 2000 AD-adjacent books, take in a few of the Alien novels while I wait for Romulus and Noah Hawley's show to drop. The possibilities are endless.)

Like what I write? Consider supporting me on Ko-fi!

[vertebrae-entertainment]

28.06.2023 - Camera devlog

Video game camera movement is like a stuffy nose. If everything's fine you don't think about it at all, but if anything feels off it's incredibly frustrating. So I've been spending some time working on the camera.

First, the camera needs to follow the player. But if it follows the player 1-to-1 then it gets jarring fast. The player acts like a sticker in the center of the screen with no feeling of weight or speed, jumping around feels disorienting, and sudden movements make the camera teleport. I don't want that.

So I make the camera trail after the player. But if the player moves too fast they end up squished against the border of the screen. You would constantly crash into enemies and obstacles with no time to react.

So I nudge the camera in the direction of the player's movement, and nudge it further ahead the faster the player is moving. This makes the camera stay ahead of the player, and gives them more foresight the faster they're moving. It's more important to see the obstacles ahead of you than the obstacles behind you, after all.

But sometimes I want more control over the camera. Like a cutscene where the game snaps to an NPC during dialogue or a scene where the camera pans across the whole level to give you a cinematic view of what's ahead.

So I make new invisible camera objects that hijack the camera's movement when they're active. I now have 2 different camera positions, the gameplay position centered around the player and a cinematic position that gets overriden by invisible focus point objects. And then I just smoothly transition between the two.

But sometimes I don't want to completely hijack it, I just want to nudge the camera a tiny bit to help the player in a direction. For example, if they're close to a grappling hook I want to focus the camera closer to the grappling hook so that it's further in view and easier to spot. Or maybe there's a scenic location where I want the camera to be a little further up to get a clearer image of the sky.

So I have a separate invisible object. Instead of hijacking the camera completely I instead nudge the camera towards a middle point between the player and the invisible object. And the object only does so while in range of the camera, giving up when it's outside of view.

But this whole time I've been neglecting a very important thing. What about people playing on screens with different aspect ratios? Someone playing on a tiny square CRT TV might not even get the hook on screen in the first place, while an ultrawide display would activate every nearby object and freak the camera out.

So instead of basing the range on the camera's actual proportions, I do my range checks with a box that uses a typical screen ratio and remains the same regardless of the player's screen. This keeps things consistent between players, at the risk of looking weird for players with extreme screen ratios. Sometimes a focus point will be on screen, but the camera won't actually get nudged that way until the camera gets close enough for it to collide with the boundary box.

But… but… but..!

But I'm going to stop here. Another problem with things like camera control is that you can get too lost in the sauce and spend an eternity adding new functionality and fixing edge cases forever, with diminishing returns for each change. In reality, one of the most important parts of making games is figuring out what you don't put in the game. And I think the camera's in good shape right now.

Of course, a lot of this subjective and depends on what your particular game needs and is subject to change whenever the game itself starts changing. The game you start working on at the start of development is rarely the game you end up making in the end. So it'll be fun to see how much of this sticks in the final game and what ends up getting added or removed.

Hope this was an interesting read!

Much love, Åge.

[captainkurosolaire]

Budokai 3: Thunder Fists

(C.F) Glacier Spear - ♫The Box♫

The Fifth Layer was etched in the Hell of Lightning's domain. This pit would be turned into a damnation for the vandals, slumlords, and warmongers. Gift boxes were thrown into the midst on both sides towards each competitor. Another crucial trial weapon added to the mix to inflict anguish. The wounds already they coveted weren’t ever numbing; the fatigue in their bones felt to the highest degree as if they were strapped with additional weights. Flood of water drew up past their ankles and continued to build up to their knees. As they opened up the lid of their gift they were greeted with barbed electrical wires to strap to their fists a whole next level to Rhalgr’s fist.

They gradually stumbled and used the leverage of the walls with their maimed bodies to attempt to even stand, limp and wobbling with shaky and damage running rampant they already felt needles in their spines. An almost ceremoniously return to form as they once again crossed each other like how they began this battle. There was no denying in the twinkle of their eyes and well eye in the case of Sinbad. An amount of mutual respect was given. Captain with a rasp throat cleared his voice box, “Ye know denizens of’ th’ land may be onto something, they typically handle disputes with dance-offs, or knitting, or betting on some horses n’ steed races.” He gave a small jest with all the warpaint of crimson soaking down him in streaks. A shared moment of a chuckle was given as the burly deeply gave his own, “Yeah, aye. Well maybe in another life. But I hope you aren’t worrying about the fate of your beloved crewmates. They’ll make exceptional additions to my lead. I’m already tasting which three I'll pick. Definitely that feisty blonde haired first mate of yours.” He refocused on the intense wage. Men who were just fashioned fighters and only get as much as they give. The Seeker didn’t bite the bait but gave it one last, “Mate I’ve got a creaking door that could use yer labor as my cabin boy.” Each of them both thinking the same thing and punching each other square in the face at the same time. Both jolting to the voltages of their strike-force. Before they both grinned at each other and regrouped their standing postures and began swinging back and forth, back and forth, lobbing another, in unprotected facial shots, tearing and taking turns just busting open old wounds and reopening new ones. Deforming each other and pushing the barbaric standards. Trying their mightiest to one-up the other! Disregarding all the insignificant vanity and clamor to sport, they struck representing the mismanaged bastards. Ruthlessly they accepted to burn in hell and perish rather than being fraudulent to themselves anymore. The scrambling of their brains and as they inched closer to death, is only ever when the importance of things shine through the impact blow of their memories once living all being used as receipts that were carving the other. Each hooking a grip on each-others shoulders and just pelting one another with a vicious barrage of pent-up rage. Until both of them reeled backward both tripping on themselves. Deliriously barely conscious. Suddenly Sinbad went to decide a change of pace and cheaply kicked a low blow against the pirate to get that payback from previous. But out predicted, he met his foot harshly into something metallic that reflected only damage onto the bruiser. That sly blackguard pulled out a protective guard. With a lopsided grin, “Th’ heavenly gems always told me t’ wear protection, about time I invested.” He said cheeky before tossing the cup and following through by getting an uppercut and taking the lead by dropping the humongous giant crashing below. When it came to straight-up rumble bouts where both individuals are locked in and just throw until the other falters on their hind. There were few instances where the Captain of Gold didn’t get an advantage on it. The final bell rang the toll. Only one last trip to hell left.  

[janarthanantumbl]

The Kapaver Back Cover Case for the Nothing Phone 2A HyperGuard combines superior design with ultimate protection in its collection.

Introduction:

Alright, check this out. Kapaver is all about protecting your phone in style. They just came out with their new Nothing Phone 2A Mobile Phone Back Cover Case collection. It takes mobile protection to the next level with awesome designs and ultimate safety. The Nothing Phone 2A 5G Back Cover Case Impulse Astro Big Eyes is definitely a showstopper. Not only does it shield your phone from scratches and dings, but it also makes it look really cool. And the Nothing Phone 2A CyBer-i Edition Back Cover Case is super futuristic looking with advanced protection too, keeping your phone safe while still looking sleek. If you're more of an adventure seeker, the Nothing Phone 2A 5G Back Cover Case Impulse Astro Warrior Black is perfect. It combines tough materials with a slick style to handle whatever you throw at it. Each of these covers really shows Kapaver's commitment to quality and protection, but you also get an advanced, reliable style. Check out the whole HyperGuard line from Kapaver - where protection and great design come together to take your mobile experience to new heights.

Nothing Phone 2a 5G Back Cover Case Impulse Astro Big Eyes

Introduction Astro Big Eyes:

Hey, check out this case I saw for the Kapaver Nothing Phone 2a Back Cover Case. It's called the Impulse Astro Big Eyes case from Kapaver. This thing seems like it protects your phone really well while also adding some cool features. Not only does it keep your phone safe from drops and scratches, but it seems like it can improve how you use your phone too. Pretty neat huh? With a case like this you get protection and convenience all in one.

Unique Design:

Hey, I just spotted a Kapaver Nothing phone 2a Back Cover Case with a very unusual design. It's known as the Impulse Astro Big Eyes Case. The artwork is colorful and intricate, making your phone stand out. There are both bright patterns and delicate themes available, so there is something for everyone. I believe a case like this would allow you to express your uniqueness while keeping your phone safe. You can make a statement while simultaneously providing protection, which I think is really fantastic!

Enhanced Protection:

So this case for the Kapaver Nothing Phone 2a Back Cover Case, the Impulse Astro Big Eyes case, it sounds like it's really well-made. It uses high-quality materials which help protect the phone from normal everyday bumps and bruises, you know? It can shield the phone from scratches and dents that might happen. And it seems like it can take a drop without the phone getting damaged. That's awesome cause it means your phone will stay looking good as new. The construction makes it so your phone is well-protected. Not only that, but it helps the phone last longer before it kicks the bucket. So if you're using your phone every day, this case seems like a really reliable option to keep it safe and sound for the long haul.

Slim Profile:

So, the Kapaver Back Cover case, the Impulse Astro Big Eyes, it provides good protection even though it's thin and lightweight. Not only does it look better on your phone than a bulky case, but it's also way more comfortable to hold and carry around. You can just toss it in your pocket or bag no problem since it doesn't add any unnecessary size or weight. So you get defense for your device without sacrificing portability or the phone's appearance, which is pretty nice.

Easy Installation:

Kapaver Case is super easy to install and take off whenever you want. It just slides in and out, so you can swap it out for a different one no problem. Plus it was made to be convenient to use, while still keeping your stuff safe and secure. The designers really thought about making it simple to put on and take off without any trouble.

Anti-Fingerprint Coating:

So, the Impulse Astro Big Eyes phone cover boasts an anti-smudge layer. It keeps your phone appearing clean since the coating prevents fingerprints and smudges from forming. This substance reduces the amount of fingerprints and smudges that appear on your phone, keeping it appearing sleek and clean.

conclusion:

Alright, so in summary, the Nothing Phone 2a 5G case from Kapaver not only protects your phone with some flair but also makes using it even better. With its unique look, tough build, and handy features like being a breeze to put on, having perfect holes for ports and buttons, staying fingerprint-free, gripping well, and allowing wireless charging, this case totally works for anyone wanting functionality and to look good too. If you want to up your phone's protection and appearance, you should check out Kapaver.

Nothing Phone 2a CyBer-i Edition Back Cover Case

Introduction:

Hey check this out, Kapaver has a super futuristic looking case for the Nothing Phone 2a called the CyBer-i Edition Back Cover. It has a really cool design but also protects your phone really well. It's perfect if you want your phone to look awesome but also don't want to worry about it breaking if you drop it. This case is definitely for people who want the coolest looking accessories but also want them to actually work and keep their phone safe.

Futuristic Aesthetics:

So this case is attempting to appeal to people who enjoy modern, techy looks. The Kapaver CyBer-i Edition features a sleek, smooth style with designs that appear to be inspired. It essentially transforms your Nothing Phone 2a into a piece of art. They also have basic, clean patterns for those who like something more modest, as well as more ornate designs for those who want something truly eye-catching. Whatever your taste is, whether modest or overtly bold, there should be a style that complements your personality and demonstrates how much you enjoy cutting-edge items.

Durability:

The Kapaver Mobile Back Cover case for the Nothing Phone 2a is really durable. It's made from tough, impact-resistant materials so it can handle anything you throw at it in daily life. It does a great job protecting the phone from scratches, impacts, and drops to keep it looking perfect and working well. Even though it's rugged, it doesn't add much bulk. The case is still slim so the phone keeps its sleek look. It blends protecting the phone really well with still looking good.

Functional Design:

The Kapaver Mobile Back Cover case was made with practical use in mind. The CyBer-i Edition has exactly the right cutouts so all the ports, buttons and camera on your phone are easy to access. You can use your phone completely normally even while the case is on. It won't get in the way at all when you're trying to use features or take pictures. The buttons are also really responsive through the case. On top of that, it protects your phone too. The design really fits the shape of your phone well so it's comfortable to hold and use. You get the best of both worlds - full functionality of your phone along with protection from drops or scratches. No compromises needed between keeping your phone safe or being able to use it easily. If you're looking for an everyday carry case, this one strikes a great balance of protection and usability.

Easy Installation:

The installation of the Kapaver Mobile Back Cover case is really easy. You don't have to deal with any hassle putting it on or taking it off. It's super simple to switch between cases or take your device out to clean it whenever you want. Everything just slides in and out without any problems.

Anti-Fingerprint Coating:

This phone case has some fancy coating on it that makes it really hard for fingerprints and smudges to show up on your phone. It helps keep your phone looking super clean and fresh even after lots of use.

conclusion:

Alright, so the Mobile Back cover case is pretty cool. It's called the CyBer-i Edition and it's made by Kapaver for the Nothing Phone 2a. Basically, it makes your phone look super futuristic with its design but also protects it really well from scratches and drops. Plus it has cutouts for all the ports and buttons so you don't lose any functionality. And it even works with wireless charging which is awesome. Overall, this case ups the style of your phone while keeping it safe and easy to use. If you want your Nothing Phone 2a to stand out from the crowd in a techy, innovative way, you should definitely check out the CyBer-i Edition. It really brings together a nice mix of appearance and protection for your device.

Nothing Phone 2a Back Cover Case Impulse Astro Warrior

Introduction:

So this case for the Nothing Phone 2a is called the Back Cover Case Impulse Astro Warrior. It's made by Kapaver and is supposed to look really cool while also protecting your phone well. It has a fun, space-themed design that some people will really like. But it also keeps your phone safe from drops and scratches. So if you want something that looks great and keeps your phone protected, this case seems like a pretty solid choice. It gives you style and protection rolled into one package, which makes it a good option for spicing up your Nothing Phone 2a.

Bold and Elegant:

So this phone case, the Impulse Astro Warrior, has a really unique and eye-catching design. The patterns on it are super intricate and bold, so your phone will definitely stand out from the crowd with this case on it. But at the same time, the finish keeps it looking sleek and sophisticated. No matter where you are, whether it's a professional business meeting or a casual get together with friends, your phone will look great. This design works in any setting.

Ultimate Protection:

This case is really protective, which is great if you want to keep your phone safe. It's made from strong, durable materials that can take a hit without letting damage through to your phone. Whether you drop it or accidentally bump it, the Kapaver case will protect your Nothing Phone 2a from scratches or breaks. The quality materials can absorb shocks so your phone stays perfect, no matter what you do with it. You don't need to worry about your phone getting dinged up, even if you're rough with it sometimes. It's built really well to guard your phone against daily wear and give you peace of mind wherever you take your phone.

comfortable Design:

This case for the Kapaver Astro Warrior was clearly designed with comfort and usability in mind. The way it's shaped just fits right in your hand, which not only makes it feel nicer to hold for long periods, but also less likely to slip out of your grip accidentally. It's snug without being too tight, so your device always feels secure and you don't have to worry about it falling. Overall it provides a really nice, comfortable experience each time you use your phone.

Precise Cutouts:

So Kapaver's case for the Nothing Phone 2a, the Impulse Astro Warrior, has some really cool cutouts. They cut out holes for all the ports, buttons, and camera on your phone really precisely. I mean they line up the holes perfectly with where everything is on the phone. This attention to detail means you don't have to take the case off to use anything on your phone. You can charge it up without taking the case off, change the volume, or take pictures - the case doesn't get in the way at all. It lets you use your phone just like normal without feeling like there's a case there. Must be real nice to have a case that doesn't mess with how you use your phone.

Anti-Fingerprint Coating:

So, the Kapaver phone cover has a great anti-fingerprint coating, correct? It keeps your phone looking clean and attractive even when you're using it frequently. Fingerprints and smudges do not show up as much on the casing due to the high-quality coating employed. It also makes cleaning a breeze; generally, a little wipe will remove any stains. So your phone looks great all the time, even while you're holding it and using the touchscreen. Pretty good feature to keep your phone looking stylish when you're using it on a regular basis.

Conclusion:

In summary, the Nothing Phone 2a Back Cover Case Impulse Astro Warrior by Kapaver gives you the perfect mix of bold and classy style, full protection, and how it feels in your hand. With things like being super easy to put on, exactly the right size holes, material that doesn't get fingerprints, still able to wirelessly charge, and grippy texture, this case doesn't just make your phone look cooler but also keeps it safe and working no matter what. Upgrade how your smartphone feels with the Impulse Astro Warrior case - you'll get the ideal balance of looking good and being practical.

Overview of the Kapaver Series for Nothing Phone 2a Cases:

Alright, so in summary, the Kapaver collection for the Nothing Phone 2a has some really cool case options. They have the Impulse Astro Big Eyes case which has a fun, playful design. Then there's the CyBer-i Edition which has a really futuristic, high-tech look. And the Impulse Astro Warrior has a bold but elegant style. Each case is designed really well to suit different tastes. But they all provide great protection with high quality materials and precise cutouts for the ports and buttons. They also have nice features like being easy to put on and take off, preventing fingerprints, and allowing wireless charging to still work. If you want to keep your Nothing Phone 2a looking stylish while keeping it protected in any situation, you should check out these Kapaver cases. They'll keep your phone safe but still let you show off its design.

[gyllenhaalstories]

OH SO CHARMING — DOCTOR!JAMIE RANDALL

summary: your have been transferred to a new doctor, jamie randall, who is deeply concerned about your case.

warnings: medical terms & hospital tw, cheating, maggie does not exist but cassie/lisa does, smut (flirting, doctor kink, latex gloves kink, teasing, finger sucking, fingering, spit kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, cumshot) 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2715

gifs credits: jakegyllenhaal / divider credits: firefly-graphics

notes: i hate doctors & hospitals but jamie’s the only exception xox. thank you @zemosliebling​ for the inspiration 💙 also if you’re not listening to womanizer while reading this, you’re doing it wrong. thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“Sorry,” The doctor span on his chair and turned his attention back to you, once the paper cup he used to water the plant behind him was discarded in the trash can. “If I don’t set up an alarm, I’ll forget about it and have a corpse in my office in no time.”

You laughed, awkwardly.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Poor judgment. I promise, Mildred the Monstera plant will survive. I’m a better doctor than I am a gardener anyway, you’re in luck.”

This time, you sounded more genuine when you chuckled. You reciprocated the smile he gave you and let him look through your file, which still smelled of warm printed paper. You assumed he did not read it before you arrived, your transfer was still a recent event.

“You seem to be doing just fine." Jamie concluded and raised a brow at you.

You clenched your jaw. If you faced another dismissal of your distress and health issues, you did not know how you would react.

“But I doubt you’re here because everything is normal.” He noticed your shoulders relaxing when you sighed out. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I’m sure we can figure things out together.”

While he leaned on the back of his chair, causing it to squeak under his weight, you cleared your throat. “I have problems,” He nodded, encouraging you to go on. “... with my boyfriend.”

His lips disappeared in one thin line while he pressed them together. Of course, someone as beautiful as you would be taken. “Please?” He asked you to continue.

You rubbed your hands on the fabric of the sweatpants you chose to wore. They were so hot, your whole face felt hot. It was one thing to discuss that with your regular doctor, but with a new one, it added new levels of embarrassment.

"So when we...” You cut your sentence with confusing hand gestures, he grinned, indicating he understood. “I can’t...” You shook your head, trying to find the adequate words. “You know... Get...”

“Produce lubrication?”

You nodded, a little too excitedly.

He took notes, his handwriting was strangely clear for a doctor. “It happens. There are several causes behind that. This is not abnormal.” He hoped you felt reassured, but judging by your facial expressions, you did not. “I need more information to fully understand your situation.”

He looked at you, as if he asked for consent to dive into your intimacy. You let him in.

“How would you describe your sex life?”

You scoffed at the question. There were a ton of words that ran through your mind but none of them were positive. You still tried. “Not as good as it could be?”

He nodded, slowly, taking in the answer. “What is lacking?”

“Everything!” You exclaimed, the two of you laughed at your answer. “There’s no foreplay, at all. If there is, it’s more about me sneaking to the bathroom to do my thing before,” He took more notes. “And after.” He looked up at you again, you could not tell if it was pity or empathy that you found in his eyes. “It lasts one minute at best, it’s so boring.”

“I assume you tried talking about it with your partner. He must not be oh so charming about it.”

“It never improves.” You did not miss the mocking tone of his voice.

More notes. “How come you are in my office on your own, and not at a sexologist with your partner? Do you think this has to do with you?”

You shrugged. “It has to, right?” His silence spoke louder than words. “Maybe I have a problem... Generally speaking. And that could be why I don’t enjoy it.”

He leaned one elbow on the arm of his chair. “Do you recall experiencing any difficulties to lubricate when you masturbate?”

The terms were so cold and direct, they made you wince slightly.

“Miss?”

“No.” You coughed out your answer.

“That’s encouraging.” He smiled. “May I ask how you proceed? What is your methodology?”

“Do you mean how I fuck myself because my boyfriend can’t?”

He chuckled and nodded.

So you described everything. You were always told that in order to get a better treatment, you had to be honest with whatever specialist who put their multiple degrees on display. You frowned a few times, though. The more in depth you went about how you used your toys on yourself, how you would need to edge yourself to get wet enough to let one finger in, how you could not touch yourself knowing your boyfriend was in the house — the more you spoke, the less composed Doctor Randall looked.

He had to loosen the knot of his tie, roll up his sleeves, fidget with a pen, a paperclip even. Jamie had to try really hard not to imagine you spread open, alone in your house when you could be loud and free. He squirmed lightly on his chair, but he was quick to find a distraction. “Follow me to the examination table. I have to run a few formalities.”

So, you did. You sat on the table covered with crinkly, obnoxious paper. He took your pressure, chuckled lightly when you felt a wave of static electricity run through your arm when his hand touched your skin. You let him check the reaction or your pupils to the light, the reflexes of your knees, even your lungs so he could make sure you were breathing through the goosebumps he peppered over your skin.

“Just a few more. He noted words on his pad and set it down. “Your heart is beating fast. Are you nervous?”

That was rhetorical, at least you hoped it was. You nodded.

He brought his hand to your neck and pressed his pointer and middle finger to your pulse point. Soon enough, you felt the rest of his hand wrap around your neck.

You gasped.

He smirked.

“One more test.” He turned his back at you so he could grab a pair of gloves from the box. He slid them on, not without struggling until he pulled on the material just right to stretch it over his palm. “Open wide.”

You obeyed and dropped your jaw open. Instinctively, your tongue poked out, expecting to get in contact with a wooden stick. Instead, it was two heavy fingers that pressed on your tongue.

He had the same instrument in his other hand as he did when he checked your eyes, lighting up the back of your throat. “Wider,” his fingers went slightly deeper in your inviting mouth. “That’s it.” Jamie’s breathing was rapid and short. His eyes left the sight of the inside of your mouth to notice the drops of saliva that dripped down his gloved fingers and your tongue.

You could not help it, you gagged audibly when he pushed his two fingers even deeper.

He coughed lightly and pulled them out. “Good job.” He shook his head. “I mean you’re good. All good.”

You took deep breaths to try and calm down, find the same composure you had when you first walked in his office.

“I have to ask you to undress. Bottom down only, unless you’re comfortable with the rest.” He smirked, again before he turned around and let you do your thing.

You took off your shoes, kept your mismatched socks.

He noticed the paper noise stopped abruptly and, as if he could read your mind, he spoke. “You have to take your underwear off if you want me to take a closer look.”

So, you did. You caught a glimpse of the wet patch on the coloured fabric. You laid down on the table with your legs tightly shut and cleared your throat, hoping he understood the message.

Which he did, all too fast. He had just enough time to pull on one of the legs of the rolling stool and bring it closer so he could sit on it and position himself in front of your legs. “Now, I need to test if you really do have a problem with,” He inhaled deeply when he pushed your legs open with the back of his hands and noticed your glistening pussy. “Lubricating.”

You held your hands on your stomach and lifted your head up to look at him. You regretted it.

Jamie was lost in the sight of you, basically dripping on the paper underneath your body. He swallowed thickly and looked at you with one of his charming smiles. “You must be familiar with the use of gynecological lubricant, but in your case, it would be counter productive.”

You frowned at him, you had prepared yourself to the awfully cold feeling of the jelly. Not for the warmed up material of his gloved fingers her pressed on your folds.

“I need to see if you can produce enough to have satisfying intercourse.” He explained, but his voice had a hint of excitement in it that was not so professional. “Will you let me?” You nodded. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Good.” He smirked again when he used his other hand to spread your folds open and expose your clit and clenching entrance. “So far, what I am witnessing is very encouraging.”

You had closed your eyes, the neon lights blinded you and you wanted to try and imagine anything else to stop you from moaning when he dipped his fingers down enough to the pool of wetness at your hole.

But you failed, and the moan you let out made him squirm on his stool. “I will practice a couple of tactile touches on you. If it is uncomfortable, you can tell me to stop whenever you want.” His thumb stroked over your clit, making you arch your back in pleasure. “But I doubt that would be necessary.”

That smirk, you saw it again when he kept flicking your sensitive bud over his thumb.

“Doctor...” You called out in between moans.

“Keep going, I need to see just how wet your pretty cunt can get for me.”

The switch of his language helped you get over the edge, or maybe it was the two fingers he plunged inside of you with no resistance.

You were wet, soaking wet. He knew all along you were not the problem. You had been just one more unlucky girl with a selfish partner, but to see you fall apart for him so easily was better than a correct diagnosis.

“I need to  —” your fingers dug into the leather surface of the examination table when Jamie curved his fingers inside of you.

“Good girl, give it to me.”

Your vision blacked out for a second, all you could see were little stars flickering on the ceiling, on his face, on your legs, on anything you looked.

Jamie had to force one of your legs open, he was not going to let you get away without giving him what he wanted  — what you deserved for not cumming all this time. “Let go, let it all go.”

His fingers were fucking you hard and deep while he continued the abuse on your swollen clit.

Tears streamed down your face when you brought a hand to your mouth and bit on it to choke out your screams.

He felt it, he felt the gush of liquid pushing against his hand that caused him to stop rubbing your clit. He still fingered you through it, watching you as you stained the paper and dripped down on the floor, and his clothes for that matter. It was a good thing you were his last patient of the day.

“Don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

“I’m not stopping until you finish.” Jamie moaned, too, when another wave came out of you. He slowed down the intensity of his fingers until there was not a drop that came out of you anymore, until you were all dry from squirting, crying, and drooling.

You tried to take deep breaths, but you were left in that state of euphoria and confusion where you could not start laughing and hiding your face at the thought of what just happened.

You did not remember the last time you managed to cum this hard, probably because you never did.

“One thing is certain,” Jamie pulled on his drenched gloves and flipped them inside out, throwing them in the trash bin next to the table. “You’re soaking wet.” He winked at you and helped you get down from the table. His hand rested low on your back, just right on the curve of your ass.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

He let you dress up when he cleaned the table. He even helped you pull your panties all the way up.

You were now standing in the doorway, your appointment had lasted far too long already. You could barely focus enough to try and fix your hair and clothes so you looked presentable.

Jamie smirked at you. “I’ll see you next week.”

*~*~*

You came back the next week at the same hour.

Jamie insisted on doing the same routine as the first time, to see if there was any progress with your problem.

Oh, there was none. It was even worse, or, well, better. You had soaked through your panties on the way to the hospital and it only got more intense when you felt Jamie’s gloved hands over your core and your thighs.

Everything and nothing about it was medical. The precision of his fingers was surgical but the twisting of his face when you came for him, gushing over the examination table was more primal than anything. He needed to feel you the same way you needed to feel him.

The week after that felt like it was an eternity later. Jamie could not take you off his mind, not when he wrote notes in your file and faked everything to justify the number of appointments he scheduled for you, not when he was on his way back home with a painful hard-on and especially not when he was jerking off to the thought of you.

That week, you had decided to ditch the pants for a skirt, easier access. Boundaries were being knocked down not all that slowly. Jamie was spitting on your pussy as if you needed it at all just to get a third finger inside of you, which was more than what you could ever fit on your own.

You squirted on his hand every time, like clock work, like your body had learned how to react to his touch.

“See? That charming boyfriend of yours could never.”

On the fourth appointment, it was not his thumb stroking over your throbbing clit, it was his cock. Hard, wet from your juices and precum, he was dragging it along your folds until you were both soaked.

You wore a dress that day, a dress you had rolled up to below your tits so that he could shoot his load on your exposed stomach.

He cleaned you up, always, meticulously.

There were countless times he came close to kissing you, or, better, to devouring your pussy like it was his last meal.

But he could not bring himself to do it. Instead, he did it to his girlfriend. He imagined it was you, it was that sweet and dripping pussy of yours that was haunting him in his sleep.

“What has gotten to you, Jamie? The sex’s finally good.”

He heard that sentence a little too often from his girlfriend. He did not mind it, if both of them could get something out of this fantasy he had to fuck your brains out, he was satisfied.

But you were not satisfied, not yet.

Jamie was oh so charming. He had a few tricks up his sleeves.

It started with a date at the restaurant.

It ended up with a quickie in his car.

In a hotel room.

You thought he was just another womanizer, a pervert that used his job to get laid.

However, the way he fucked you made you think you were not just another victim of his pretty puppy eyes and incredible skills.

If he could make money from fucking, he’d make a better salary than any doctors in all of the hospital.

[thepenultimateword]

Waste of Time Part 2

Original

“What would you say if I told you there’s vat of sulfuric acid beneath your feet, and I have the remote to drop open this entire floor?” Villain towered over Hero on a lift fixed into the wall by a long robotic arm. They really were getting more advanced as time went on. In fact, Hero had overheard a discussion amongst some other heroes that someone ought to take this slippery little villain out before they actually got good because it was becoming a matter of “when” not “if” they’d be too formidable to stop. Maybe it was already too late for a lot of heroes since they were standing around making hypotheticals instead of moves to stop it.

Hero could stop it. They would. Eventually. These last few months had just been too interesting. Not that Villain had succeeded doing anything terribly ingenious or original--Hero was still winning all their fights too; it was the curiosity that strung them on they supposed. Every time Villain announced something new, it was like a lighthouse in the blurring fog of their usual routine. Maybe they should’ve been disappointed by each result, but for some reason they weren’t. It wasn’t about the plan being good; it was about seeing what Villain had come up with this time.

“I’d say, ‘ChemRat, year 2007’,” Hero replied. “Sulfuric acid was her thing, not just dropping unsuspecting people into it, and once she did drop a whole ballroom floor of questionable individuals—really heavy, really hush—but sneaking it into drinks, waterpipes, swimming pools, sometimes toting it around in reinforced squirt bottles.”

“And if I’d genetically altered a school of piranhas to survive within the acid?”

Hero rubbed the back of their neck; it was getting to be a pain cranking they’re head up at Villain for so long. “Is there even a use for that? I mean, I’d be dead anyway. What are the piranhas for?”

“It’d be different.”

“Adding things in for the sole sake of being different isn’t clever, it’s just random. Why put in the effort for something that doesn’t serve a purpose? I think our arrangement was to create something challenging, something to get the best of me, not weak add-ons for presentational shock factor.

“Alright, fine!” Villain raged, then grumblier, “There aren’t any piranhas in any case. I just wanted to know your reaction if there were.”

They pulled a little notepad out of their pocket and marked something in the margins with the stub of a pencil.

“I suppose the buzz saws in the walls are also too common for you?” they said as they guided the lift toward the floor.

“That threat is older than I am,” Hero confirmed.

“Hm.”

The lift made a light clang of metal on metal as it landed, and Villain stepped out. Matching pants and cinnamon waistcoat clung to their slender form while the navy ribbon tie broached beneath their collar accentuated their long, graceful throat. Their coffee-colored hair was pulled back in a paintbrush ponytail today, showing off the full protrusion of their ears in all their pokey glory.

“Aren’t you going to drop the floor?” Hero asked, catching themselves before their admiration dragged. That may have been another reason they’d allowed this to go on for so long, though they’d never admit, hardly even to themselves. Dinner had been a one-time deal. Impossible to repeat unless by accident. Could an accident be contrived?

“And risk killing you?” Villain stalked forward. There must have been a little heel on their shoes today because as they got close Villain’s eyes were nearly chin-level with Hero. “Not before I’ve beaten you.”

“I’m flattered, but don’t you think you’re giving too much weight to my opinion?”

Villain tipped Hero’s chin down with a light touch of their thumb and forefinger. “Maybe I just want to impress you.” They rose up on their toes and brought their lips right up to Hero’s ear. “What do you think of that, Hero?”

An untrained hero might have been flustered; they would have let the spicy fragrance of Villain’s shampoo turn their weakening knees to jelly. Hero had way too much experience to be moved by sultry murmurs and whatever golden glitter was streaming out of Villain’s eyes again. Besides, they knew Villain wasn’t interested; they’d said as much on the blind date when they shut down Hero’s clumsy venture of getting to know them. This was just another attempt at being different, doing something unique. Because of this knowledge, Hero felt absolutely no hesitance before whispering back, “Seduction is the most cliché of all the clichés.”

The tips of Villain’s ears went pink, but to their credit, their voice remained cool as they spoke. “Oh, really? This happens to you often?”

“At least once a month, though I appreciate the absence of being pinned to a wall. That was new.”

“Didn’t want the buzz saws to go off,” Villain said, a bit of embarrassment grating in the back of their throat this time.

Hero laughed abruptly. So sans the buzz saws, and they would’ve tried a pinning? How would they even manage that?

Villain’s blush spread from just their ears to their entire face, and they took a couple brusque steps backwards, creating a sizeable gap between them. Hero’s laugh must have hit a weak spot. As much as Villain could hit the switch between nervous and savage, someone else could do the vice versa with a stray word or two.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time again,” Villain grumbled, unable to meet their eyes.

“I don’t mind you wasting my time.” It escaped Hero’s mouth without warning. Hearing the words in the air sent a little shock through their nervous system. Some real electricity lightly sparked from their fingertips and along the ends of their hair. “I mean I like seeing what you come up with. Er…‘like’ is a strong word. I meant interested. Because that’s my job.” Hero whipped an accusing finger in Villain’s direction. “Look, I’m tired! Don’t go misconstruing my words!”

“I wasn’t planning on it?” Villain said, brows drawn down and mouth warped in mild confusion.

Hero thrust out their hand toward the control panel on Villain’s wall, sending a burst of electricity into the system that immediately elicited the smell of burning plastic. They should have done that at the very start. Nothing good came from letting Villain talk. They could’ve been out in 10 minutes, but no.

“Hey, Villain, why don’t you try out 4 plans in one go, I can’t wait to see them all.” What kind of moron am I?

They fried the robot arm lift too for good measure.

“Hey!” Villain cried. “That wasn’t even anything bad, you jerk!”

“It’s in your lair. It looks menacing. It gets destroyed.”

“Do you know how much this stuff costs?”

“Waa waa, does someone have to rob another bank?”

“I don’t make all my money from stealing! Good things get built with good money, and bad things get built with bad money! It’s called categorizing!”

Hero would feel guilty about that later. Right now, their face was hot and so were their insides, and they needed some Cupcake Wars to distract them from their idiocy.

“Are you seriously walking out after that?” Villain continued to fume.

“My food network shows start at 5:00,” Hero said, making sure not to look back. They couldn’t be sure the warmth in their face wasn’t visible. “So yeah.”

“You’re supposed to be a hero, so why are you so mean!” Villain’s foot clanged on the metal floor as it came down.

Burnished light caught the corner of Hero’s eye. They couldn’t help it. They gave a glance. The golden glow poured out from Villain, more intense than any other time. A glittery spray accenting the indignation in each of their breaths. Their eyes shone like burning meteors, and their skin was practically gilded, a soft sheen to their cheeks.

A lightning bolt of inadequacy struck Hero suddenly and to the core. They had permanent dark circles beneath their eyes from 16 years of on-call hero work. They slept when they had time, watched TV for most of that time, then rolled out of bed/off the couch when they were called. They hadn’t even checked the state of bedhead in their hair before coming over.

How long could they go on ignoring the slippery slope they were careening down? Was the world really so boring or was it just them? For all their bravado and accomplishments, maybe what they’d really grown tired of was themself. Compared to a golden sapphire like Villain they were nothing more than a clod of dirt trying to pass off as something valuable. No wonder Villain wasn’t interested.

“It would be better if you don’t try to impress me anymore,��� Hero said quietly, turning their back again. “You do fine on your own. The other heroes all say so.”

The transition from gold to grey was so fast, it was hard to believe the light bulbs hanging from the ceiling were doing anything.

“Hero…what did I do?”

Hero didn’t need to look to know Villain’s shoulders had scrunched up and that they were biting their bottom lip, anxious. They felt like saying something, but there was nothing else to say.

They pushed out the front door without a word.

NEXT PART

TAGLIST:

@crazytwentythrees @greatbiscuitpickledreamer

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Gains

Poly Sons of Ipswich x Reader

Word Count: 2,802

Summary: Trying to take advantage of their gym membership, reader starts working with a devastatingly attractive personal trainer. And his friend is pretty hot, too.  

The gym was still new for you but you had been coming consistently enough that you felt comfortable there. You knew what times equipment would be available and what times the crowds would be too much (week days 3-5:30 was like competing in the Hunger Games.)

Cardio always came before strength exercises because your muscles would be too fatigued otherwise. 

And on Tuesdays and Saturdays they played your favorite music on the loud speakers so you didn’t have to bother with headphones on those days.

Still, you weren’t an expert by any means. 

In fact, you were still hesitant to call yourself a gym-goer because you’d seen the workouts other people did and you definitely weren’t doing that. There was no strategy, you just did what you felt like doing on any given day. You were impressed by their discipline though.

Maybe, most likely, it would benefit you to incorporate some of that into your own routine.

The gym had a personal trainer program and you figured that would be the best bet—much easier than trying to figure it out on your own.

Poking around the website, you found the section that explained the process. The design was modern and intuitive, and it was easy to book an appointment: the only information you needed to provide was your name, the date/time, and what trainer you wanted.

The first two things were easy to fill out but the last had you a little stumped; you weren’t familiar enough with any of the trainers to request anyone by name even with the drop-down menu that listed out all of the choices. For a second, you were tempted to forget about the whole thing but luckily, there was an option for ‘no preference’ and anxiety levels dropped off as you selected it.

Appointment booked, you went on with the rest of your night, focus shifting to what sounded good to eat for dinner.

A week later, you found yourself in the gym’s front lobby, arms crossed and foot tapping. Since it was the first time, there was no harm in arriving early. The directions on the website had said to wait there for the trainer but so far there was no sign of them. Granted, there was still five minutes until the scheduled start so it would be unfair to start complaining about them just yet.

Rolling your neck to alleviate some of the tension, you paused mid-stretch, neck awkwardly craned like a gaggling turkey, when a man walked out. He was without a doubt the most attractive man you’d seen at the gym to date.

Thick dark hair that curled just above his ears. Warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile. Tanned skin that wrapped around arms that had just the right amount muscle: toned but not bulky. All in all, a good looking man.

You tracked him as he glanced around the area, looking for something—his eyes suddenly met yours and you straightened up in embarrassment—or someone. “Y/N?” he questioned.

You throat was so dry, it was painful to swallow. “That’s me.”

It didn’t seem possible but his smile grew even brighter. He stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Caleb and I’ll be your trainer today.”

Good karma most certainly at work here. How else could you explain being lucky enough to have the hottest guy in the gym be the trainer? Whatever the case, you weren’t going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

He gestured you forward with a wave of his hand and followed you to the main workout area. There was slight pressure to staying cool and collected with him behind you. 

“I’m going to start you off with some jogging to warm-up. Do you want to use the track or hop on a treadmill?”

“Treadmill is fine. It’s what I normally use.”

You stepped up onto the belt and fiddled with the settings to establish a pace you felt comfortable with. The machine started up with a loud hum and your arms and legs began to pump. Normally, you’d have your earphones in to distract yourself with music but they weren’t that day so that you could hear Caleb if he said anything to you.

Good thinking, really, since he did indeed start chatting.

“So how long have you been a member?” he asked.

Determined not to sound steady, you took a few moments to normalize your breathing. “About two months. But this is the first time I’ve worked with a professional,” you added at the end.

It was hard to hear his laugh over the treadmill but the hitching of his shoulders gave him away. “Thanks, but I’m not really a professional. I just have a training certification is all.”

Huh. Attractive and humble. If you weren’t careful, you’d develop a full-blown crush in no time.

“A certification sounds professional to me,” you insisted. There. That wasn’t flirty at all. You were merely sharing an opinion.

Jogging passed by faster than it usually did even without music. Evidently, all that was needed to make a run enjoyable was good conversation and an even better view. 

You powered off the treadmill and gradually transitioned to a walk and then a full stop. A single bead of sweat trailed down the side of your face but before you could wipe it away, only to stumble after being patted on the back by Caleb. 

Those muscles were not just for show.

You had mixed feelings about him giving you props for completing the warm up. On one hand, you were a little insulted because even you could handle jogging for ten minutes. On the other, it was nice to have him flatter you. And he seemed to type to mean his compliments.

“Thanks,” you said almost like a question as you plopped down to stretch.

“Really,” he insisted. There wasn’t any level of patronizing tone that you could detect. “You’d be surprised by how many people I work with that complain about running.”

“Really?” you exclaimed with surprise. “I wouldn’t say I love running but it’s not terrible. Better than swimming anyway.”

“Whoa, now. I’ll have you know that I was a big swimmer in high school.”

The friendly banter about the woes, or in his case, the highs of swimming got you through the stretches he showed you. Occasionally, there would be a pause while he corrected your posture but once you fixed your position, the banter started up again.  

Finally, you conceded, “I will admit that swimming did wonders for your shoulders though.”

He looked away with a bow of his head. He smiled but it was closed lipped, no teeth on display. Oops. That comment may have been a bit too forward. Rather than draw more attention to it, you diverted attention to the actual work out.

Seeming to be of the same mind, Caleb dropped it, too, and set you up at a weight bench. He must’ve have seen the doubt on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he assured. “I’m not going to have you squatting 300 pounds or anything crazy. Here. Take this and we’ll start with some dumb bell rows.”

He handed you a twenty-pound weight, the smooth metal cool against your palm. The weight was noticeable but not so heavy you struggled to hold it. A month or two of this and your arms would actually tone out pretty nice.

You peered subtly at Caleb behind you. You wouldn’t be at Caleb’s level, not just after a couple weeks but then again, you doubted most people could measure up to him even after working out everyday for a year straight.

Someone people had all the good genes.

You could’ve complained but found it much more enjoyable to appreciate the good view. In fact, it was the view that got you through the rest of the season.

“Thanks,” you panted around the mouth of your water bottle. A bead of sweat ran down your neck and you reached to wipe it off.

“You did great, really,” he said, the epitome of what a good trainer should sound like. “The scariest step is always to start so signing up for additional personal training will be a piece of cake.”

“Y-yeah.” Suddenly, your shoe laces fascinated you. “So…if I want to do that—more of this...do I choose you on from that list of trainers?”

“Sure thing. Or if you’d prefer to try someone else, all of the trainers are fantastic choices.”

“I think I’ll stick with you. As long as that’s not weird or anything…”

“Nope, not weird.”

You worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. Swirling irises of molten brown, you couldn’t help but be drawn into them. “Same time next week then?”

“Same time next week,” he agreed with a nod.

***

It had been a little over a month since you had started working with Caleb at the gym and what had started as one personal training session a week had turned into two, sometimes three. Improvement was happening steadily and you definitely felt a difference in your stamina.

Strangely enough, you were even proud of the small callouses that were starting to develop on the tops of your palms, under the fingers. They weren’t classically beautiful but at least you had proof of the work you were doing.

Having worked up the confidence, you’d also started doing some of the exercises Caleb showed you on your own. It was on one such day that you met him.

Another gym babe.

The first thing you noticed was his ass. Literally. He was in prime squat position and his short, though knee length and loose as they may be, could not hide his toned glutes.

You were embarrassed to admit that you were totally ogling him, like a dog looked at a prime cut of meat. You didn’t get star struck often, but damn.

The universe must have sought to punish you for the lack of propriety and your mp3 slipped through your sweaty fingers onto the moving treadmill, yanking the earphones out of your ears along with it as it flew backwards on the conveyor belt.

Recovering from the stumble your mp3 caused, you turned off the machine and gingerly picked out the music player, preparing for the worst.

Miraculously, the screen was still in tact and sounds was still coming through the earphones. You took another sigh of relief when you realized he was preoccupied by his own workout and hadn’t seen your embarrassing moment.

Something similar happened the next time you saw him a few days later: he was cooling down after having thoroughly trounced the heavy bag in the small boxing set-up the gym had. His arms looked so good in his cut-off tank (muscles and veins were all on display) that you froze with your mouth hanging wide open.

Another gym-goer did catch you that time but at least it wasn’t the god sculpted from marble.

You almost felt bad, like you were cheating on one of your crush’s with another which was ridiculous because Caleb was just a trainer and you didn’t even know the other one’s name.

Who knew that so much drama could happen in the confines of a simple neighborhood gym? Seriously, The Bachelor wished it could have as many good options as the gym seemed to.

***

You huffed as you pushed yourself up on increasing shaky arms. For a few seconds, you honestly didn’t think you’d be able to do it as your arms got stuck at a forty-five degree angle. Digging deep down, you managed to fully extend your arms.

“Nine,” Caleb counted. He was kneeling besides you on the yoga mat, counting, and adjusting your form here and there, while you did push-ups

Rather than descend slowly as was proper for push-ups, you collapsed to the mat with your arms squished underneath your chest. Rolled your head, you gave him your best pleading eyes and hoped he might take mercy.

That hope was misplaced. He gave a sympathetic smile and shook his head negatively. “Sorry, Y/N. We agreed on ten and by my count, you still have one more to go.”

“Can I not and say that I did?”

“Come on now. It’s only one more.” He waved his hands around like he was waving imaginary pom-poms. “You can do it!”

You managed a weak laugh. There was no way you could’ve say no. Your arms felt like they were burning but he looked adorable trying to be a cheerleader. An unbidden image of him wearing a cute male cheerleading uniform flashed in your mind and you thought he would pull one off well, what with his wide shoulders and sculpted legs.

Imagination got you through the last push-up and you groaned as you turned over on the mat, spread out like a star fish. “That was absolute torture.”

Caleb opened his mouth but was interrupted by a newcomer.

“Geez, man. You need to take it easier on your clients.”

Recognizing the voice, you found the other gym guy you’d been eyeing standing above you.

“Pogue.” Caleb held his fist out to the man who in turned bumped his with the trainer’s. Evidently, they knew each other.

Then they embraced in a full-on hug.

Okay, so they definitely knew each other. And it was hard to miss the parting caress to Pogue’s shoulders—what kind of name was Pogue anyway?—that was generally reserved for two people that were close.

Were they related? Dating, perhaps?

Your imagination fired up again and you wondered what they would look like wrapped even more intimately with one another…which was entirely despicable, you reminded yourself. There was no proof they were romantically involved, and, even if they were, it was none of your business.

The other two, who had been talking while you were maladaptively fantasizing, had continued talking and their conversation now turned to you.

“So who’s this?” Pogue questioned politely.

“This is Y/N,” Caleb introduce you. “They’re one of the people I work with.”

Pogue stuck his hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m glad Caleb hasn’t killed you off yet.”

“Hey! I am extremely fair with workouts, aren’t I, Y/N?”

“He is,” you said with a small smile, rocking on your feet. “Besides, he way too nice to ever become a drill sergeant.”

Pogue shoved Caleb lightly and Caleb elbowed him in return. “I know he doesn’t look like the type, but he was quite the drill sergeant back when we were both swimmers. He just hides the competitive instinct under his charming smiles.”

That peaked your curiosity. “No way, you guys swam together back in the day?”

“Spencer Academy was state champs three years running in our time,” Caleb admitted. “But nowadays I do my thing with personal training and Pogue more into MMA.”

“MMA?” you questioned.

“Mixed Martial Arts,” Caleb supplied. “You’ve probably seen him hogging the punching bags in the back.”

You most certainly had but you weren’t about to confess that to either of them. It would be too embarrassing and might even toe the line of harassment.

“You are more than welcome to share bags with me, any time,” Pogue grinned teasingly.

A thought hit and flowed out of your mouth before you could stop it. “You guys should give me a lesson sometime.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were interested in that sort of thing,” Caleb said, surprise coloring his voice.

“Are you saying that you don’t think I can?” You weren’t sure what made you say it. It’s not like you were hardcore dedicated to trying it. 

Whatever the cause it had Pogue chiming in save the situation.

“What prince charming means is that we would love to give a demonstration sometime.”

Caleb down at his watch because of course he still wore one instead of just using his phone like most other people. “Damn. Our hour is up Y/n and I’m late getting my next client. But we can hit the punching bags next time, if you want…?”

“Sure. Uh. Does Wednesday work for you?”

Both of the men nodded and Caleb called over his shoulder as he jogged to the lobby. “It’s a date. Schedule it online and I’ll approve it.”

The word kept replaying over and over. Date. Date. Date, date, date. He probably didn’t even mean it like that but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

Waving goodbye to Pogue wit a promise of seeing him next week, you bounced off to grab your phone from the locker room. There was nothing wrong with scheduling your next session ASAP.

It’s a date.

_______________

Pogue boxing does make a fetching image. Pogue and Caleb in the ring sparring together even more so. Debating whether to make a part 2. 

Caleb always seems to be the hardest for me to write so I hope he sounded okay in this. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I decided to finally post it. 

Thanks for reading! 

[expectingtofly]

Take a Load Off

2.5k

fluff, post-canon, human!cas, anxious dean, established dean/cas

(i saw this post by @emptymeg and couldn’t get it out of my head, so here’s a fic :)

also posted on ao3

“What’s in the box?” Dean asked, coming into the library to see Cas setting a large package on the map table with a huff. The table creaked under its weight. “Hey, name that movie.”

Cas cocked his head. “What movie?”

Dean groaned. “Seriously, dude, you’re hopeless. What’s in the box! Brad Pitt?” Cas shrugged and Dean sighed. “Forget it.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Cas said, fetching scissors from a drawer, “This box is for you. I bought you something.”

“Oh?” Dean came to the table, interest even more piqued. “What kind of something?”

Cas gave him a look. “Not what you’re thinking.” He cut through the tape securing the box. “I read that this can relieve stress and help you sleep better.”

“I already know something that can do that.” He added a wink for good measure.

“So,” Cas continued, ignoring him, “I thought you should try it. You haven’t been getting enough sleep lately and I’m worried about your anxiety levels.”

“Wait a moment,” Dean protested. “What do you mean, my ‘anxiety levels’?” Cas opened the box and he leaned over to look at the contents. Folded, silky dark grey fabric. “What is that, a blanket?”

“A weighted blanket,” Cas corrected, heaving it out of the box. “Twenty pounds.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He plucked at the fabric. “This is supposed to help?"

“It’s proven by science.” He nodded at a chair by Dean. “Go, sit.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean sat down and Cas draped the blanket over him. “Fuck.” Dean lifted his arms up under the blanket, then dropped them. “This is actually heavy.”

“Do you feel relaxed?”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You don’t look it at all,” Cas deadpanned and Dean kicked at him. Cas pulled a brochure out of the box. “Soft cotton filled with poly pellets,” he read. “Alleviate anxiety and increase serotonin.” He studied Dean, eyes squinted. “You still look tense.”

“Sorry, Cas.” Dean shoved the blanket to the floor with a thump. “Think you got duped.”

“You’re not doing it right,” Cas grumbled, picking it up off the ground. “You have to give it a chance.”

“I just gave it a chance.” Standing, he brushed Cas’ hair off his forehead, gave him his best you love me smile. “Now, do you really wanna help me relax?”

Cas studied him for a long moment, then said, “Okay.” He carefully folded the blanket. “We’re keeping this, though. I still think it’ll work.”

Dean made a face behind his back and started to follow him out of the room, but the phone Sam had recently installed in the library for a hunter hotline started ringing. He groaned and Cas hesitated in the doorway.

“Do I have to?” Dean asked him.

“I suppose so,” Cas sighed and set the blanket down on a chair. Turns out the call was from a hunter out near Boise who needed help with a case. Of course, Sam was away visiting Eileen, so he and Cas got stuck spending the next two hours going over the case information, trying to figure out what the monster was. They finally settled on vetala, a whole pack of them, and after instructing the hunter on how to kill them, Dean hung up the phone.

“Fuck,” he swore, rubbing at his eyes. “Who knows how big the pack is. Could be a whole dozen of the freaks.”

“Well, now she knows how to kill them,” Cas said. “And there’s other hunters in the area who can help.”

“Yeah...” Dean fiddled with his pen, tapping it on the open pages of his dad’s journal.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked.

Dean realized he was frowning. “Nothing.” Flexing his shoulders, he stretched out his back, stiff from poring over books. “Just, three people are already dead. I better be right that it’s a pack of vetala.”

Reaching over, Cas rubbed his back in small circles and Dean leaned back into his hand. “We did all we could, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t so sure that was true. But, short of driving all night out to Boise, he supposed there wasn’t much else they could do. Still, he didn’t like the idea that he might’ve missed a clue, might’ve misled the hunter. He clicked his pen again and again, going over the case in his mind, worst case scenarios—

“Are you going to sleep now?” Cas asked, and Dean glanced at him.

“No.” Dropping the pen, he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Don’t think I can now.”

“Would you say you’re feeling stressed? Anxious, perhaps?” Cas deliberately looked to his right and Dean followed his gaze to the weighted blanket folded on a chair.

“Dude, don’t even start.”

“You should use it,” Cas urged. “There’s no shame in feeling anxious, I often feel the same way too.”

“I’ve dealt with worse before, this is nothing new. Just comes with the job.”

Cas sighed. “You put too much on your shoulders.”

Dean shrugged. “Like I said, comes with the job.” If he wasn’t always on edge, he figured he was doing things wrong. Get too comfortable and bad things happened. Just the way it was.

“Still, you can admit you need a break.”

“Jeez, Cas, I’m wounded.” Dean pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Cas rolled his eyes and stood. “Don’t stay up too late.” He seemed to hesitate, fighting against saying more, and Dean said,

“I’m fine, Cas, really.”

“Okay.” Cas didn’t look too convinced, but he kissed Dean goodnight and headed off to their bedroom.

Dean cleaned up the mess of books and papers on the table, turned off the lamps just to do something with his hands. Normally, this is when he’d grab a drink, try to calm his head, but he’d been trying to cut back lately—blame Cas’ concern for his liver—so instead he decided to head to the Dean Cave. Maybe a few episodes of Dr. Sexy would distract himself enough to sleep.

Leaving the room, his eyes fell on the weighted blanket again. Cas and his ridiculous ideas. If Dean hadn’t been sleeping too well lately, that was just the result of living their kind of life. Nothing to do about it. Ignore the stress or end up drowning in it, that was his motto.

(And a horrible coping method, according to Sam and Cas)

Either way, lying under twenty pounds of “cotton and poly pellets” wasn’t going to help. Though the blanket had been really soft, he’d give it that.

He forgot all about it the following day, though, when Sam found a case a few towns over, and Dean and Cas drove over to meet him there. Disturbed gravesites, people disappearing near the cemetery at night. A ghoul, by all signs. A day of morgue visits and interviewing witnesses, then another two days of sitting parked in the cemetery, waiting for the ghoul to emerge again and feed. Dean was almost happy to see the thing when it crawled out of its grave. Almost.

Killing the damn thing hadn’t been too easy. But after inadvertently destroying a few gravestones, nearly falling into an open grave, and narrowly avoiding losing a few limbs, they finally bashed the ghoul’s brains in thoroughly, and split up from the cemetery. Dean went to speak to the latest victim’s mother while Cas and Sam got rid of the remains.

Returning to the bunker first, Dean showered, blood and ghoul remains washing away down the drain. But even the warm water couldn’t ease the jitteriness sitting high in his chest. The ghoul had been strong, fast, and Dean’s heart had leapt into his throat when it got a hold of Sam. Even Cas had struggled to stop the thing, gunshots only serving to anger the son of a bitch more.

Getting out of the shower, he scrubbed himself dry with his towel, inspected a cut along his arm. Not deep enough for stitches. If Sam had avoided a concussion, they were lucky. The ghoul was dead, at least. Left a dozen ruined graves and a few torn apart teenagers in its wake, but dead.

As he changed into clean clothes, he heard the bunker door open. “All good?” he asked, entering the war room to find Sam and Cas setting down their bags.

“If you mean will the trunk always reek like ghoul, then yes,” Sam said. He grimaced as he took off his boots, muddy footprints already leaving a trail down the bunker stairs. Then he glanced at his phone and smiled, said, “Eileen’s calling.”

“Whipped,” Dean mouthed at him as Sam answered his phone, smiling at the screen and walking off down the hallway. “Well,” he told Cas, ”you look like shit.”

Cas gave him his best, I can smite you even without my grace look. “Charming.” He headed off down the hallway towards their bedroom and Dean followed. “How did Mrs. Landis take the news?”

Dean sucked in a breath. “Uh, 'bout how you'd expect, I guess. Told her a bear had gotten to her son, but it was all taken care of now. Not much else to say.”

The mother had sobbed and thanked him. He’d done a piss poor job of comforting her and left with an all-too-familiar sick feeling in his stomach; they hadn’t done enough, they could never save everyone.

“And you?” Cas asked, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at Dean as he pushed open the door to their bedroom. “Are you alright?”

Dean started to nod, say fine, but he knew Cas would see straight through the lie. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he shrugged, dropping his hands into his lap. “Just shook up. Coulda been a bad one.”

Cas nodded as he pulled off his trenchcoat, the edges bloody and muddy. “We’re all safe. You don’t have to torture yourself thinking about what could’ve happened.”

Dean shut his eyes, took a deep breath. “I know.” Easier said than done.

He heard Cas’s footsteps, then felt Cas’ fingers on his cheek and tilted his head into his palm. Breathed in and out. Cas smelled like blood and guts and sweat, not a particularly pleasant combination, but his hand was warm and his other hand was carding through his hair and, shit, that felt nice.

“Go to sleep,” Cas said quietly. “You need rest.”

Dean nodded and Cas kissed the top of his head. He left to take a shower and Dean scrubbed his hands over his face.

Fuck, this hunt had been a close one. Closer than they’d had in a long time.

Dropping his hands, his eyes settled on the weighted blanket that Cas had left folded on the chair at the desk, a silent plea for him to use it. He rolled his eyes. Anxious, his ass.

He started to pull the covers back on the bed, but the thought of lying down with the hunt running on repeat through his head was less than appealing. Cas’ trenchcoat hung bloody on the wall, and Dean clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking, adrenaline and nerves still rushing through him.

Alright, maybe a little anxious.

With a glance at the door to convince himself Cas would be in the shower for a little while longer, he grabbed the blanket, brought it to their bed.

Getting under the covers, he draped the blanket over himself and lay down, shifting to get comfortable. Once settled, he stared up at the ceiling and waited for the miracle blanket to work its wonders. How much money had Cas spent on this shit? He really had to hide the credit cards.

He shifted again, the mattress creaking, and dropped back with a huff. Not that he didn’t appreciate Cas trying to help, but a twenty-pound blanket wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was a full night of sleep and a blow job and an all-expenses-paid trip to Cancún. His nose was itchy, his knee was bruised, his back was fucked up from getting thrown against a gravestone, Sam had already found another case in Albuquerque, and, fuck, he was just so damn tired.

Shutting his eyes, he forced himself to breathe through the sensation of his chest tightening. He could feel the blanket rise and fall with every deliberate breath, and he counted like Sam had taught him years ago when he’d woken with a panic attack—breathe in for seven seconds, hold for four, let out for eight.

Don’t think about what could’ve happened. We’re all safe. Cas is safe, Sam is safe. I’m safe.

His heartbeat slowly settled. The blanket’s weight was strangely comforting, warm, trapping him under the covers. Forced to stay still, he felt his limbs slowly relax into the mattress, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipating, his back easing and hands curling loosely along the sheets.

Okay. Shit. Maybe there was something to this weighted blanket thing. His mind grew hazier as his thoughts began to wander, and he found himself drifting off to sleep when the bedroom door creaked open and startled his eyes open.

“You’re using it,” Cas whispered excitedly, standing in the doorway. “Are you relaxed?”

“Fuck off,” Dean told him. He would’ve flipped him off, but that would require lifting his hand out from under the blanket and he was too—dammit, Cas was right—relaxed to move.

“I knew it would be perfect,” Cas said, sounding too triumphant. Shutting the door softly, he got into bed next to him—well, tried to. He shoved at the blanket encroaching on his side of the bed. “Dean, move over.”

“Nope.” Dean shut his eyes again. “Reap what you have sown.”

Grumbling, Cas turned off the light and got under the covers with more rustling and movement than necessary. Finally, he settled down. The bunker hummed, the heating running, the pipes in the walls creaking as a shower turned on down the hallway. The blanket heavy on top of him, Dean began to fall asleep again.

“Are you really gonna keep that on all night?” Cas asked, disturbing the quiet.

“Yup.”

Cas huffed and Dean could only keep up the ruse for a few more seconds before lifting the edge of the blanket. “Come on, get under.”

Sliding over, Cas got underneath, and they laid side by side, pressed against each other. Their fingers brushed, and Dean crooked a finger around Cas’ thumb.

“This is nice,” Cas commented, voice quiet. “I’m glad it’s helping.”

“Mhm.” He was starting to think he should’ve bought one of these things a long time ago. He hadn’t realized how strung out he was before until now, all the tension in his body slipping away.

Cas shifted onto his side and Dean blinked open his eyes to look at him. “I guess I was right all along, wasn’t I?”

“Don’t push it.” He caught Cas’ smile in the dark and elbowed him on principle before shifting over to kiss him. Then he tugged at Cas’ arm and turned onto his side, prompting Cas to press close against his back and wrap an arm around him.

He smiled, eyes falling shut at the warm press of the blanket and Cas’ body around his. Now he was relaxed.

tag list:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007  @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @theangelwiththewormstache @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @celestialcastiel

let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list :)

[illfoandillfie]

A Different Kind of Education: I Is For Impact Play (Chapter 8)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summery:  After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summery:   A new week and a new lesson, but also a new challenge. How can you possibly find the courage to talk to your professor about your period?

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, conversations about and mentions of menstrual cycles/periods, discussions of impact play including: spanking, kicking, slapping, punching, floggers, paddles, crops, whips, and canes

Words: 10,391

A/N: Better late than never, right? Big apologies for taking so long to get this one up! Once again I've had to split a single topic into multiple chapters lmao. This one is mostly the theory part of the lesson and a bit of an info dump, but the next part will focus more on the actual smut.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini 

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod​

You knew it was something you’d have to deal with eventually, that having your period would affect your lessons with Roger. But still you felt reluctant to broach the topic with him. It wasn’t something you generally discussed with people, especially not your professor (even if you were regularly sleeping with him). And you could already hear the lecture he’d give you about why you shouldn’t be embarrassed to tell your sexual partner about your cycle, and about how he’d taught reproduction enough to not be phased by it. The problem was you weren’t really sure how you felt about having sex during it and you knew even less about whether Roger would want to. You were definitely going to have to talk to him about it, no matter how much you didn’t want to. So, wondering when the best time to bring it up would be, you checked the curriculum he’d written for you. Impact play. That was the topic for the week. Roger might consider you clueless about kink (as you’d learnt during the previous week’s munch), but you at least knew enough to know that impact play meant spanking. For a moment you were distracted from your worries about the conversation you were going to have, rather excited by what you’d just read. Spanking was one of those things you’d been expecting to try. When you thought about BDSM, spanking was the second thing to come to mind after bondage. It was one of those things Dylan had hinted at being into. A couple of times during sex he’d given your arse a slap and, though you’d never really asked for it you also hadn’t told him to stop. He never hit too hard and it added a bit of excitement so there was no harm in it. And you suspected he might be interested in pushing it further if you ever suggested as much. So, to know that Roger was going to run you through the basics of it and show you how it felt, you couldn’t help but be a bit excited. And maybe you’d be able to keep things over the clothes to start and you wouldn’t have to tell Roger about your period after all. The good thing with having an implant was that it reduced the duration of your period. It would have been nice if it stopped it entirely but at least it shortened it and made it a little lighter. So maybe you could organise a second session later in the week for the more hands on part of the lesson, and not have to explain at all. You left your apartment feeling happier and excited to see Roger that night. But you didn’t have to wait so long to see him.  

You’d barely taken two steps inside when a familiar voice called out Ms Y/L/N and you found Roger walking towards you, his hand raised in a lazy wave.  “Hi Professor,” you smiled, surprised but happy to see him, “I’m just on my way to class, what’s up?”  “Oh, in that case,” he glanced over to a group of students ambling past you, “do you have time for a meeting before you leave this afternoon?”  Your heart rate sped up at the serious way he looked at you over his glasses, “Umm sure.”  “Good. I’ll see you this afternoon then. Don’t forget.”  You nodded but a new worry had taken over your mind. There was only one reason he could want to talk to you. Your degree. If it was anything to do with his tutoring sessions then he would have just said it when you got to his place that evening. No, it must be to do with your class work. Maybe something had been wrong with your last exam? Possibilities were turning over in your mind as you resumed your path to your first class, each worse than the other. Maybe you’d misunderstood a question and gotten it completely wrong. Maybe he’d had to fail you. Maybe your overall grade had dropped. Maybe he was going to call the whole tutoring thing off because you’d gotten too distracted and done so badly on your recent assessment. You spent the entire day trying not to get too worked up about it, trying to tell yourself that if your work had slipped even a little he would have called to talk about it earlier, that if it really was as bad as failing his subject you’d have discussed it long before now. By the time your last class of the day ended you were somewhere between terrified about what Roger was going to say and relieved that you were about to find out.  

Your hand was shaking as you knocked on Roger’s office door and pushed it open at his word.   “AH, Ms Y/L/N, shut the door please and take a seat.” he said, shifting a stack of papers to the side of his desk. It was only once you were sitting that he seemed to look at you properly, “Are you alright? You look a bit pale.”  “Professor I’m so sorry, I swear if something was wrong with my last exam then it wasn’t because of our lessons and I promise I’m not letting them distract me at all. I put so much time and effort into studying and if-”  “Woah, woah, hang on. No one said anything was wrong.”  Your breath caught in your throat and it seemed to take you twice as long as it normally would for you to understand what he’d said, “There’s not? Then....why am I here?”  “It’s about tonight’s tutoring session.”  “Oh?”  “I wondered if you’d be okay making a small change to the plan.”  “S-so nothing's wrong with my work?”  Roger shook his head, “Your work is impeccable Ms Y/L/N. Sorry, I didn’t realise you’d assume the worst. I had no intention of worrying you like that. I was intending to mention it this morning but you seemed to be in a bit of a rush and I didn’t want anyone to overhear so...” he gestured vaguely towards you with his hands.   You let out a relieved chuckle, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders, “What was the change you wanted to make?”  “Do you know what we’ll be focusing on this week?”  “Impact play, Professor.”  “Very good. And do you know what that entails?”  “It’s like spanking isn’t it?”  “Spanking is definitely part of it, yes.”  “Cool. But you’re not wanting to switch topic are you? Only I’ve been kind of looking forward to this one since it’s like proper BDSM stuff....or like, not that other things aren’t I just mean that spanking is part of what I initially imagined, y’know?”  Roger held up his hand to quiet you, “I understand what you mean Ms Y/L/N. And it’s not that I want to change the topic, I just wanted to change where the lesson would take place.”  “Okay...” you were a little surprised by that. Where else could he have in mind when your lessons were supposed to be secret.  “I thought we might have the first lesson here.”  “Here?!”  “Keep your voice down, Ms Y/L/N. Not here exactly, not this office. In the first-year bio room actually.”  “Why? Isn’t that kind of risky? What if someone saw?”  Roger shrugged one shoulder, “It might be, but I think what I intend to show you could be covered as a biological experiment. Let me explain,” he said upon seeing your confused face, “So, as you no doubt remember, first years do a lot of dissection of various animals, working their way up to human.”  You nodded, remembering hours spent bent over various carcases and cadavers.  “Well, I thought it might be beneficial to show you some of the impact play tools we can use, demonstrating how they work and what effects they can have, but I don’t want to demonstrate them on you straight away. Luckily, it just so happens that one of the animals my first years are studying right now is pigs, so I thought we might use a pig carcass instead. Pig and human flesh are quite similar so you should get a decent sense of how being spanked with various tools will look and the impact they would have on your skin. We can compare being spanked by hand to flogging to a crop and so on. All without experiencing any pain at all. Of course, it is a dead pig so it won’t be exactly the same and you probably won’t see the same levels of bruising you would on a living human being, but it’s a good starting point. Plus this way you could try wielding the tools too, so you can get a sense for how they feel to use them and how much force is required to make them work.”  You were taken aback by the explanation and had to stop your jaw from falling open as you listened. But Roger waited patiently for you to think it over and you quickly concluded it was a good plan. You could easily write it off as related to your dissertation if anyone saw and asked what was going on. It wasn’t at all related but Roger was about the only person who knew what topic you were researching so no one else would pick up the lie.   “Okay then, let’s have the lesson here.”  “Excellent. You really don’t mind hanging back?”  “Not at all.”  “Good. I think we should possibly wait until a little later before we start, just to let the place clear out a bit. Perhaps we could get some dinner and eat it in here before we head down to the room. You can tell me how you’re getting on with your dissertation.”  “Okay, I like that idea.”  “Shall I duck out and get us some food then? What would you like?” 

After what could only be described as a minor argument about the merits of Mexican food, you and Roger eventually settled on a nearby Greek place. He tapped the order into Uber Eats and then went to wait for the delivery out on the street so the driver wouldn’t have to find their way through the numerous carparks and laneways on campus. You ducked out to your own car to drop off your bag full of books, though you kept your laptop to make notes on. It would also make your story seem more legitimate if anyone did stumble onto the lesson and ask what was going on. The thought of the lesson made you smile. Partly because you were keen to learn about the topic but also partly because you knew there was no way sex would be part of it. Roger would definitely draw the line at fucking his student in his classroom where anyone could catch you. And if you were going to be spanking a dead pig then you wouldn’t be asked to remove clothes or anything like that. So you wouldn’t have to discuss your menstrual cycle with Roger at all. You’d just say you were busy until later in the week when your period stopped and organise the follow-up lesson then and Roger wouldn’t be any the wiser. It was perfect. That, in addition to knowing nothing was wrong with your actual schoolwork, put you in a very good mood and you could have whistled with joy as you made your way back to Roger’s office.  

By the time you’d finished eating, the sky outside the window had changed from a mix of warm pinks and yellows as the sun set and was gradually darkening the longer you watched. It was only when Roger glanced at his watch and saw that it was a quarter to seven that he decided the building would be empty enough for your lesson to start. He grabbed his own laptop as you grabbed yours and then led you along the corridor and down a set of stairs, taking you towards the back of the building where the hands-on biology lessons were held.   Roger made sure the door was shut and locked before dumping his belongings onto a desk. “Can you give me a hand?” he asked, before moving to the door to a walk-in freezer at the back of the room.  Together you hoisted a large pig carcass onto a cart and wheeled it out into the main room.   Roger then ducked back into the freezer returning, after a little rummaging, with what looked to be a child’s toy crate. It was made of yellow plastic and seemed light enough that Roger had no trouble hoisting it onto one of the desks, but it was not full of children’s toys. You couldn’t see everything immediately but poking out of the top was a long black handle with a leather flap hanging off the end.   “Is that what we’ll be using then?” You were eyeing the box warily.  “Yup,” Roger began pulling the items from the box one by one, laying them out on the desk, “I brought the box in earlier and hid it down here so no one would stumble onto it. I didn’t want any awkward questions. Or to have any of them stolen since they’re mine,” he added with a chuckle.  You looked over the collection with interest, some of the objects familiar to you and some only vaguely recognisable, “Is that a hair brush?”  “It is,” Roger winked playfully, “Kink can be very D.I.Y and the back of a hairbrush makes for a good makeshift paddle. The front of the hairbrush can be fun too actually. Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m going to go through everything individually, explain what they are and what sort of effect they have and I’ll demonstrate them on our piggy participant. There’s also a few things I don’t have which we can run through at the end, sound good?”  “Sounds great.” You sank into one of the nearby seats, pulling your laptop towards you, ready to take notes.   “Right well. Impact play is a BDSM practice where one partner strikes another for sexual gratification. As you rightly said earlier this includes spanking but there's a little more to it than just that. You can slap your partner, punch them, kick them, whip them or flog them. There’re numerous ways to play with impact and as with all BDSM it’s important to negotiate what you want before you start. Being struck can leave marks of course. Brusies, welts, scratches, right through to cuts that draw blood. For some people, the marking aspect is an important part of their enjoyment, and they might go so far as to intentionally make the marks more apparent. But whether or not you want visible marks might be influenced by your job or the season or your social life or any number of other things. Personally, the marks are secondary to why I enjoy the forms of impact play I partake in. But my feelings aside, the nature of our lessons and the secrecy required, means I won’t intentionally be marking you anywhere that isn’t easy to cover up. If you even want to try it out. You might see everything today and decide it’s not for you and that would be okay.”  “I don’t think there’s much danger of that Roger. Dylan’s spanked me a little before and I’m interested enough to try more.”  “In that case then, you should know that physical pain is part of impact play no matter what aspect you try. And it can bring up more mental pain too, depending on the individual. Which is why I want to start with testing some implements on this pig. We can go through a few things and you’ll get a sense of them and then we can talk about what you might actually want to try or if any of it seems wrong for you. I’m also going to be much more diligent with your safe word in these lessons than any before. So what is your safe word?”  “Pizazz, Roger,”  “Good. Remember you can use it whenever you need to, even today. If things get too much for you I want to know.”  “I know. I promise I’ll use it.” You were struck by how serious Roger’s tone was but understood it, after the conversation you’d had during your previous lesson. And, for the first time, you wondered if this would be a topic Roger would find hard to teach.  “Thank you. I’ll check in with you every so often, especially when we move onto the practical lesson and you’re experiencing it firsthand. So, if I ask you what your safe word is, I need you to respond as loudly and as quickly as you can. It’s a way for me to gauge how well you’re coping and to make sure you’re still capable of using it.”  “That makes sense.”  Having assured himself of your understanding, Roger took a deep breath and smiled again, “Well, I have a range of different implements you can use here today but we’ll start with the most basic,” he held his two hands in front of him, palms towards you, fingers wiggling, “Hands.”  You smiled at his showmanship but your gaze lingered on the offered view. His hands had always seemed quite lovely, even when he was just teaching you biology. The way they moved so delicately as he demonstrated necessary scientific processes for the class, or rapidly twirled pens around his fingers to impress new students. Of course, you’d felt them too since you’re first private lesson, the way he caressed you and held you. His fist tightening in your hair and his fingers plunging into you and making you moan and the way he’d gently stroke your skin as you were both regaining your breath. You were excited to feel the power in them as he spanked you.   “Spanking is entry level impact play. Everyone and their mother has heard of it. It’s a common thing to see in pornography and even in Hollywood movies when they want to show sex as kinky. And because you don’t need more than your hands it’s easy to experiment with. Do you want to see what it looks like?”  You nodded and Roger stepped closer to the pig, angling himself so you could see.   Suddenly there was the sound of a clap as Roger’s palm hit the pig’s flesh.   “See how my hand was open and my palm was flat?” Roger demonstrated again but slower so the hit barely made a sound, “But what if I do this?” He hit the pig again but changed the position of his hand. The sound of his hand colliding with the pig was deeper the second time around, “If you cup your hand, curve it slightly, you can change the way the spank feels and sounds. Just like clapping.”  You experimentally clapped your hands together, first with open palms and then with each hand cupped so that the fingers wrapped around the back of the other.  “Now you give the pig a try.”  Feeling a surge of nervously excited butterflies, you got out of your seat and took your place at the pig. With a breath and a swallow you quickly brought your hand down. The slapping sound seemed to echo in the quiet room but it wasn’t as crisp as the noise Roger’s hits had made. With a look to Roger for permission, you tried it again, creating a slightly more impressive sound.  “Good, now cupped?”  You did it again, curving your fingers in a bit and bringing it down again. It felt more awkward than the open palm hit had so you repositioned yourself to hit the pig from a slightly different angle and tried once more.  “Don’t be afraid to pull your arm back further. The more your rear back, the more force will be in the spank. Like this,” he pulled his hand back past his ear and swung down hard, the spank echoing around you. “Of course, you can also spank from a nearer point too. Spanking, and a lot of impact play, is best if you mix it up a bit, don’t stay in one rhythm too long, do some spanks with your fingers spread, or change how hard or fast they are. I might give a sub two or three hard hits each with a pause between but then I’ll switch to a more rapid series of spanks that don’t have as much force behind them but come faster.”  You nodded and experimented with taking your arm back further, testing out ways to change the strength of each spank, until Roger finally called you to stop.  “How did that feel?” he asked as you took your seat again.  “My hand tingles.”  “That’s normal,” Roger laughed, “in fact it’s one thing I really enjoy about spanking by hand. The sub isn’t the only one who feels the spanks, the dom gets some of the pain in his hand too, especially if the intensity ramps up or there's a section of quick-fire spanks. And that can a) help the dom understand what the sub is feeling and work out how long the scene should go and b) brings a sort of intimacy to the scene that is harder to achieve with a tool.”  You hummed as you noted down what he’d said, “Have you ever spanked someone so much you injured your wrist or anything?”  “No.” Roger shook his head, amused by the question, “My wrists are pretty sturdy. But a few times I’ve been left with a stingy, tingly hand for an hour or two. Which brings me to an important note about pain. There are two main types of pain you can experience in impact play. We refer to them as thuddy and stingy.”  “Thuddy and stingy? What is this, an afternoon kids show?”  Roger rolled his eyes, “The names are simple but they explain exactly what they mean. Some types of impact will have a stingy sensation which is usually superficial. It won’t go deeper than the first few layers of skin and probably leaves the skin feeling warm and a little tingly or like sunburn, y’know? It’s typical of spanks and slaps. Thuddy pain is deeper, it gets into the fat and muscles and tissue and aches more. And I’ll go through which tools cause which sort of pain as I get to them. Generally though, people who enjoy impact play have a preference for one or the other.”  “And your preference is what?”  “Thuddy. Definitely. Although I prefer inflicting stingy.”  You hummed thoughtfully.  “Now, I’ll go into details about ways to actually incorporate spanking into a scene later. We can talk about it while we’re negotiating our scene. Today is just about the practicalities and sensations involved in the different types of impact play. So are you okay to move on?”  “Yup, definitely.” And then, sensing Roger might ask, you added, “Pizazz.” feeling pleased when you saw him smile. 

“I don’t expect us to delve too deep into them but I think I should touch on kicking, punching and slapping. Kicking and punching are things I’ve not done. They can, obviously, be quite painful. But they’re pretty self-explanatory. From what I understand about it, and what I’ve heard others who enjoy that kind of thing say, kicking and punching can both be very intimate, similar to the way spanking by hand is, but in a more primal or animalistic way. Punching is, of course, done without any accessories but kicking often includes footwear of some kind. A lot of time it’s something like a steel-toed boot or something with a bit of weight to it.”  “That isn't something I want to try.” You’d learnt a lot about how far kink went so weren’t completely shocked that some people would enjoy something as forceful as kicking, but it did take you by surprise to hear Roger talking about it.  “What about slapping?”  “How is that different to spanking?”  “Well, you’re right, they are similar. But slapping generally refers to slapping on the face whereas spanking is usually on the, uh, derriere. Of course you can slap or spank other parts too. For clarity’s sake, if I say slapping assume I mean on the face whereas spanking is anywhere else on the body.”  You thought about it for a second, “I’m not sure if I’d be game to try it but I do want to know more.”  “Slapping can be fun. Again, it’s not one I do a lot but I have played with it in the past. It comes in handy for particular scenes and there’s a fairly bratty sub I’ve worked with who responds really well to it. The most important thing to know is that if you are slapping someone’s face only ever aim for the cheeks. There’s a lot of fragile places around the face and it’s close to the brain so you need to be careful not to do any lasting damage. Never hit the temples because you hit them with enough force and it can kill a person. Nose and ears are off limits too, anything that is important.  You knew enough about biology to know Roger wasn’t making those rules up for fun. Noses were easy to break and hitting an ear too hard could damage someone’s hearing. But face slapping did still intrigue you. 

“Well, I’d say the next – let's call it the next level – of impact play is paddling.” He picked up what looked to be a wooden plank with a handle. It was an inch or two longer and wider than his hand with small holes cut out in a repeating pattern over the flat side so you could look right through it. “They don’t always look like this. Paddles come in lots of different shapes and sizes. This is a wooden one but they’re also frequently made of leather and sometimes the leather ones will have one side that’s a little more padded than the other. That gives you a bit of versatility with the pain. You can start off lightly with the padded side to get you in the zone and then during the scene switch it to the firmer side that hurts more. Or, if you don’t have access to a paddle at all, you can substitute a hairbrush.” He picked the hairbrush up and waved it back and forth.  “And that-” you pointed at the hair brush, “will feel the same as that?” you pointed at the wooden paddle, not quite able to reconcile the two in your mind.   “Not exactly the same but close. Honestly you can get really creative with impact play and not spend any money to get nearly the same results. I mean a plastic hairbrush might take a few extra hits or a little more force to really bruise someone but they’ll still end up sore from it. Or, if the hairbrush doesn’t do it for you, dig through your draws and see what else you can find. Wooden spoons, cutting boards, rulers, leather belts, spatulas, rolling pins, ping pong paddles, anything you can get your hands on. Just be mindful of how easily they’d break or them causing more pain than you expect.”  Again, you weren’t necessarily surprised by the lengths people would go to for sexual gratification, as Roger had put it, but it was a bit astounding. Still, you noted it all down just in case.   “Now a paddle generally falls under the stingy category but you do tend to get a deeper bruise than with your hand. Different factors could alter the way it feels too. If you put less force into it the pain will fall more on the thuddy side, same goes for if your hits are slower. But the pain call also be influenced by the size of the paddle, the material it’s made out of, the texture of it.”  “Texture?”  “Sometimes paddles have added texture, so they aren’t just a smooth, flat board. They might have metal studs that are more raised than the surface of the blade – the part you hit with – or ridging that will imprint the skin. This one has holes in it which definitely changes the feeling, makes it more intense. As you strike and the blade hits, the holes do two things. They stop any air cushions forming that would lessen the impact and they sort of push the skin into the holes which means the pain isn't completely even along where was hit. Plus it also leaves these cool circle marks behind which is fun.”  You realised you’d held your breath through the explanation, eyes following the paddle as Roger waved it through the air and ran his hands over it unconsciously. You hoped he had something more beginner friendly at home, though you couldn’t pretend you weren’t turned on by the way he wielded his weapon.  “Using it is quite similar to spanking but your hand isn’t hitting, it’s holding onto the paddle handle. So you just pull back,” Roger’s arm went back and the paddle swung backwards,” and then hit,” he swung his arm forward, the paddle cutting through the air and landing directly against the soft flesh of the pig. It made a satisfying thwack sound on impact and when Roger’ brought it back again you could see the circular patterns he’d talked about.   He demonstrated a few more times before he handed the plank to you.   It was heavier than you’d been expecting, solid wood, but the handle fit into your palm comfortably. You ran your hands over the flat part, what Roger had called the blade, and felt the holes with your fingers. The weight made it a little hard to swing but not impossible. You managed to mark the pig as well, stroking the circular imprints with your fingers.  “Try the hairbrush,” Roger said, swapping it for the paddle.  Its handle wasn’t quiet as long, but it was lighter and you found your hits were harder with it, without you even trying.   “Something to be aware of if you use an ordinary household item, or even just a different sort of impact toy. Because it’s lighter you can pull it back further and swing harder. A dom has to be aware of how much is going into each hit and how much their sub can handle.” 

“So what’s after paddles?”  “Floggers.” Roger picked his up off the table, “This is a fairly typical flogger. As you can see it’s made of black leather. It has the handle which is the thickest part and then a number of smaller tails. The tails is where you get the most variation which can be a stylistic choice or just a side effect of its price and overall quality. There’s a trick for knowing if a flogger is good quality or not. It should be pretty evenly balanced between the handle and the tails, so you should be able to do this,” he held out a finger and balanced the flogger on it carefully, the handle pointing out one way and the tails dangling over the other.   You thought for sure it would tip forward onto the tails and tumble to the ground but it hung there perfectly.  “Sometimes there will be more tails or they'll look different but no matter what, it should be balanced.” Roger gave a practiced flick of his hand so the flogger leapt into the air and he was able to catch the handle before it fell. “From a more stylistic point of view, you could get a flogger with less tails but they’ll be made of braids of leather which makes them heavier and thicker. Braided tails are also likely to have knots in the ends which can be a bit scratchy and even draw blood. They don’t have to be made of leather either. Rubber floggers are also popular. The tails on them tend to be more rectangular in shape, still flat but they have more edges and it actually feels like you’re being hit with more tails then there really are. And if you’re looking to really fuck someone up you can get hemp floggers. Sometimes they’ll look similar to this leather one but hemp is fairly stiff material and sometimes the tails will be shaped so that they’re sort of squiggly rather than flat lines. The squiggles hurt like a bitch, especially if they have knots at the end. Definitely start off with simple leather and work up once you’re more experienced.” Roger dragged the ends of the tails over his hand as he spoke, “I’d say this falls into the more thuddy type of pain. It can cover a large area of your body since the tails spread out and each of them creates an individual pain point. And because you’re being hit six or seven or nine or however many times at once, you can build up quite a rapid movement over a short period of time.”  You eyed the dancing tails as Roger moved his hand through them, “How long are the tails? Isn’t it a bit dangerous to have so many bits flying in all directions?”  Roger laughed, “Well yeah, kinda. I mean, that’s BDSM for you though, it gets dangerous which is why we’re all obsessed with safety. It’s a good thing to have noticed though, well done. The tails on this one are on the shorter side but some floggers will have much longer ones which means the dom can stand further back and still inflict a lot of pain. But you’re right, you do have to be mindful of the length and where they’re flying because a longer tail can potentially wrap around to somewhere you aren’t intending to hit. For instance, if you’re standing behind a person and flogging the back of their shoulder, you don’t want one of the tails to fly past their shoulder and around their neck. That would be incredibly painful and probably not what they expected or wanted from the scene.”  “So you have to take into account the length of the tails when you’re negotiating the scene then? And know where on the body to focus the hits so you don’t risk causing the wrong sort of pain and ending it early.”  “Exactly. That’s why negotiating the scene is important. Then both the dom and the sub will know what they want to achieve, what they want to get out of the experience, and they can tailor things to fit better. A lot of doms who are into impact play are likely to have multiple versions of their favourite toys – I myself have a few different paddles at home, I just didn’t bring them all in with me today – so by talking through what you want they’ll be able to choose the style of toy that will best fit the scene.”  “So how do you use a flogger then? Is it the same as spanking and paddling where you just swing your arm forward?”  “Sort of. Floggers have a few different ways to use them. There is of course the single strike option where, yeah, you do just hit them like you would with a paddle. I find that you don’t need to bring your arm back so far though, the movement comes from your elbow more than your shoulder.” Roger bent his arm so his hand and the flogger were roughly head height and then brought it down on the pig, “And you can change the angle of your single strike so that you hit them overhand or underhand or from one of the sides.” He demonstrated each direction as he said them, first bringing the flogger down from above, then swinging it up from below, then from the right side and finally a backhanded hit from the left. “But you don’t have to just pick a side to hit from. Paddles and hands are limited in how you can swing them but floggers have more movement. One way to use them is to swing them in a circle.” He moved back towards the pig to demonstrate, standing side on so that the tails whipped around and struck the pig, “I like starting off with circles because you can keep the pressure quite light. The tails sort of brush over the sub as they pass and it can be a good way to slowly build up. And then you can move into a figure eight as you get a bit harder.” Roger shifted his circles so they made a sideways eight in the air, subtly adjusting his stance so that the tail swished over the pig’s skin on both the forward and back motion.   You watched, awe-struck by how easily Roger swung the flogger, falling into a rhythm quickly. It wasn’t hard to imagine how he’d suddenly change the speed or the force of the swing when you were least expecting it.  

You were brought back to the present by Roger clearing his throat as he stilled the flogger, “The figure eight is why you should practice your backhand swing as much as any other. Because the tails will hit the sub on both the forward and back swings and you want them to be as even as possible.” He flipped the flogger in his hands, holding the handle out to you.   It felt smooth and cool in your hand, lighter than the paddle had been. You swished it experimentally, trying to get a sense of how it felt in motion.”  “Show me your overhand hit.” Roger said, leaning back against the nearest desk to watch.   You tried to imitate how he’d swung it, elbow bent, flogger raised.   It must have been good enough because Roger nodded and said, “how about underhand?”  He kept calling out different directions for a while, testing your reactions but you felt it helped you get a better grip on the toy and you found yourself adjusting how you held it so your movements became more fluid.   Roger watched you as you tried to keep up, his eyes locked onto your hands. Had you been looking, you might have caught sight of him subtly adjusting himself in his pants.   Finally, he seemed satisfied that you could successfully single strike from any direction and asked you to try the circle and figure eight motions.  They were harder to start, more awkward as you tried to work out the best way to move the flogger, and you caught Roger chuckling.”  “Oi, stop laughing,”  “Do you want some help?” he was still smiling but his request was genuine and when you nodded he stepped towards you. One of his hands moved to your waist as the other lay over yours on the handle of the flogger.  You tried not to grin too much as he did exactly why you’d hoped, and you felt him so close behind you.  “Like this,” His arm gently directed yours, the flogger beginning to move in a smooth circle.   “Oh, not so hard then,” you laughed, half turning to face him, “Y’know if someone walked in now this would be pretty hard to explain.”  His eyes darted to your lips, “Good thing we locked the door then.”  You hummed, waiting to see if Roger would close the gap.  He did a few seconds later, leaning in to kiss you softly. But the movement caused you both to forget about the flogger, your hands falling out of rhythm, and the tails whacking against your outstretched arms as they fell.   “Ow,” you both groaned, Roger stepping away from you.  It was disappointing but the disappointment was a little confusing. Surely you weren’t hoping for your professor to kiss you when you had no intention of sleeping with him that night.   Roger laughed, “Maybe that’s enough of the flogger today.”  “Might be for the best. Good thing I was so bad at it, otherwise we might have been really hurt.”  “You weren’t that bad. You actually looked good with it before I brought in the circles. Quite sexy really.”  “Thanks,” you said softly, trying to hide how pleased you were at that praise, “What else is there then?” 

“There's only one more that I can demonstrate but then there’s a few others I’ll touch on quickly too. So the last one I own is a crop.” He picked it up off the table, his fingers sliding along the length of it’s handle as he spoke, “This one I would put in the stingy category. It’s fast and sharp. Again, you can get crops in a few different styles. They will all have a handle like this, long and thin and probably with a slightly thicker point towards the end that’s easy to hold onto. The difference will be in the bit you hit with. This one is based on the sort of riding crop that's used on horses, so it’s quite plain. There’s just this loop of leather which hangs off the end. But others can be more decorative. I’ve seen crops which had ends shaped like hearts or that had studs pushed into them. Some of them are padded and some have a more rounded shape. We like our variety.”  “It looks scarier than the others I think,”  “Yeah, they’re quite intimidating aren’t they. And if you do it right, it’ll make a noise through the air, which just adds to how intimidating it can be.”  “Can you show me how to swing it now?”  “Absolutely. Now, you want to stand a bit further back with a crop because there is such a long handle. And the magic is in the wrist with these. You just flick the wrist and...”  You could hear the whooshing sound of it flying through the air before it cracked against the pig.  “Now some crops are more bendy and some are more stiff so, if you get one, you’ll want to practice swinging it a bit before you use it on a person, to get a feel for it. The flexibility of it might dictate how you stand or how strong the swing has to be. Give this one a go though.”  You felt oddly powerful as you took the crop and tightened your fist around the end. For a moment a vision of you decked out in leather dominatrix gear popped into your head and you nearly laughed. Unfortunately, the intimidating whooshing noise Roger had achieved was not as easy for you to make as you’d hoped, and the imagined power soon dissipated as you struggled to make the weapon sing.   Roger however was not disappointed. “It takes practice,” was what he said when you lamented your inability to create the sound, “And you don’t have to have the sound to make a good hit. It’s just kind of cool.”  When you still seemed disappointed he sighed.  “If it’s any help, I can’t always make the sound either. And besides, I wasn’t intending to use that one on you, unless you really, really want to. I mostly brought it to show you as an interesting part of your theory lessons. And so you’d have a sense of what a cane is like, even though I don’t have any of them to demonstrate.”  “A cane? Like....caning? Like what Victorian kids used to have done if they misbehaved or whatever?”  Roger laughed, “Kind of, yeah. It does have a history in corporal punishment. Which, might I add, wasn’t just for Victorian kids. It was still a thing when I was a kid. We didn’t get caned, more likely to be whacked over the knuckles with a ruler, but still. I don’t think it really left schools until the 80s.”  “Jesus,”  “Yeah. Occasionally I do wish I could bring out a ruler to shut a kid up,” he winked in jest, “Anyway, caning for BDSM is similar and uses the same sort of tool. A cane, funnily enough. Canes are long and thin like a crop but without the leather flap at the end or the more padded handle area. Traditionally they’re made from rattan which is a type of plant, but you can also get synthetic canes which are covered in leather. In my experience synthetic canes are actually harder. Not to use, I mean in the way they feel when you’re hit with them. The traditional rattan ones require a lot of maintenance though. You have to water them between uses, literally soaking them in a bath of water so they don’t dry out and break. But the benefit with a rattan cane is that if you get it home and realise you’d like something a bit shorter, you can cut it off yourself and just sandpaper down the rough edge and it’s good as new.”  “So are there any different version aside from synthetic? All the other toys had lots of variety.”  “Hmmm, not really. Most of the difference will be in how thick the cane is, which can effect the feel of it a lot. A thinner cane will sting when it hits and the force will make the skin hug the cane so it leaves these long marks behind. A thicker cane though might sting less but it’ll still hurt a lot, just more thuddy. And you tend to get more bruising from the thicker ones.”  “And do you use it the same as a crop?”  “Mostly, yes. The biggest difference is that you can use a larger section of a cane. The crop has the specific bit at the end to hit with whereas a cane doesn’t have that limit. The most important thing to remember is to try and aim a little short of where you want to hit because if you hit with a part of the cane six inches down, those top six inches are going to hit as well, and with force behind them they will wrap around the person’s side or arse or whatever until they make contact. But other than that, it’s a similar motion from the wrist and uses a similar amount of energy. And canes can make the cool whippy noise too.” 

“Is that everything then?”  “One last one, really quick. Whips.”  “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of whipping in kink.”  “Yeah, it’s one of those things that gets mentioned a lot even if comparatively fewer people are actually into it. But everyone’s heard the phrase chains and whips in relation to BDSM. There's a few different varieties of whips but I don’t really know enough about them to know the difference. They all look like whips to me. Very cowboy. But they’re one of the more intense versions of impact play. The pain they cause is quite sharp and stingy and will be very localised to a specific point because they have the one tail, as opposed to floggers which have multiple tails. Whips are very capable of breaking the skin though and feel very intensely painful. I do not recommend them unless you discover you’re a masochist and you’ve tried everything else impact play has to offer.”  “No need to tell me twice, Professor. Definitely do not want to try whips any time soon.”  “That’s very reasonable. And that is all of the impact play options I wanted to go through. There’s a little more to cover regarding safety before I let you go for the night, but how about we put the pig away and hope no one notices it’s been marked by crops and floggers.”  You chuckled and quickly moved to help Roger push the trolley back towards the freezer, locking the dead pig away securely, and to help pack up his toys.  When everything was tidy again you re-took your seat, Roger taking the one beside you. It made the end of the lesson feel less like a lesson and more of just a casual chat, the topic of which happened to be BDSM.   “The most important thing to remember when trying impact play is which parts of the body are safest to hit.” He paused for a moment, considering you, “But you’ve been studying biology for a while now, Ms Y/L/N. Care to guess which parts are safe and which parts you should avoid?”  You hadn’t expected to be asked so took a moment to consider your answer, “Well, the arse obviously. Ummm.... I guess I’d assume the best places to hit are the bits with more meat on them.”  “Very good. Entirely correct. There’s a reason most people think about spanking on the arse and that’s because it’s one of the best places to spank. Well, that and the fact that spanking is used so frequently in punishment scenes where you bend the naughty girl over your knee. But, yes, hitting the arse is good. Hitting the thighs can also be good, though the bit just under the arse cheek where it connects to the thighs hurts a lot. Which isn’t to say don’t ever spank there, just be mindful that it’s going to hurt more than directly on the arse cheeks. The pecks or breasts can be good places to hit, even the upper back where the shoulder blade is can be good. What about places to avoid hitting? Any ideas what those might be?”  You hummed in thought, “I’d imagine you wouldn’t want to hit the spine since it’s so important.”  “Right again Ms Y/L/N. The spine is definitely something to avoid. I don’t like hitting on the back much at all because there's too much important stuff there but I do know some others who don’t mind using a flogger there, especially while warming up before things get too intense. There are also the kidneys to watch out for,” he moved his hand to press against the spot on his own back, “because, as you no doubt know, part of the kidneys stick out under the ribcage so aren’t fully protected. Then a little lower down, just above the arse, is the tailbone which should also be avoided.   “What about the neck? That would be bad to hit too, right?”  “Yup. And that’s something to watch for if you’re doing anything on the shoulder blades. The spine of course runs all the way up the back of the neck and hitting there can do some very serious and lasting damage if you’re not careful. I know some people who will only flog the shoulder blades if the sub is wearing a collar because that adds a bit of protection around the C5 and C6 vertebrae but even so, better safe than sorry in my opinion. The front of the neck is also not good to hit since that’s where the vocal cords and all that is.”  “Which is why you have to be careful with a flogger’s tails, right?”  “Right. But what about on the front? Is there anywhere else you’d avoid?”  “Pussy,” you said with a laugh.  Roger laughed too, “Actually, depending on how it’s done, spanking a pussy can be quite enjoyable.”  “Wait really?”  “Yeah. I prefer doing it with my hand since you can feel when it makes the sub wet but it’s not totally unusual to use paddles or crops or even floggers down there too. I’m sure some people whip as well.”  You gulped at the thought.  “The biggest area to avoid on a person’s front side is the diaphragm and middle of the chest. There’s a lot of important stuff in there and a lot less tissue than elsewhere.”  “Do people get badly hurt doing impact play?” you glanced over the list of places Roger said to avoid. It made it seem like almost any spanking was running the risk of more than just some bad bruising.   “Sometimes.” Roger said seriously. He paused for a moment, thinking, and then continued, “Things can go wrong. And when you’re playing with intentionally hurting someone, things going wrong can be very serious. I won’t pretend there aren’t stories of people trying impact play and ending up paralysed or worse. But if you’re careful, if you pay attention and only hit certain areas and are mindful of how hard you’re hitting, then you’re going to be fine. And that’s why we come up with safe words and talk through scenes before we do them. So that you can minimize those risks and have a chance to communicate any worries or concerns.”  “But how can safe words help if you say them after you’ve already been hurt too much?”  “Well, for one, even if you’ve been hurt badly, using your safe word can stop things from being made worse. But you don’t have to wait until you’re hurt to use the safe word. Yes, if I spank you four times in a row and the fourth one feels so bad you can’t go on, then you should use your safe word before I give you a fifth. But you could also use it after the third hit when you aren’t sure if you want the fourth. And safe words aren’t just about physical pain. If you start off excited but then feel anxious after two hits you are well within your rights to safe word. You don’t have to wait until the damage is done. And, obviously, it’s not always easy to tell if that one hit more is going to be enough to make you want to stop. You can’t always know if the next hit is going to catch your neck wrong and do serious damage. But if you feel at all worried that it might, speak up. Not just worried either. If you feel distracted or you think I’m not paying enough attention to how I’m spanking you, or if I move to spank and area you don’t want me to touch, tell me. There is no wrong reason to use a safe word, even if we’re only a few minutes into the scene. I’ve said before that I’d rather you tell me to stop than for us to go on and you not feel comfortable, and I mean it.”  “I know, I guess I just never really thought about it being for mental stuff as well as physical.”  “Mmm, I should have checked that.”  “Well, let’s face it, you probably tried and I just didn’t pay attention. But, y’know, you’re very good at reassuring me when I start to get nervous.”  “I hope that’s a good thing.”  “It definitely is. I think if I didn’t have the reassurance, I’d chicken out of some things.”  “As long as you’re aware of the difference between some healthy nerves and anxiety that could be a sign you should slow down. And that you keep telling me how you’re feeling.”  “Of course I will.”  “Good girl.” 

An understanding seemed to pass between you as you sat in near silence, eyes on the other. Until Roger drew in a long breath and stood up.  “Right well, I think that’s just about everything. Obviously we weren’t able to see the levels of bruising that different implements can cause but it’s kind of dependent on the individual anyway. Everything can influence the severity of bruises and other marks. Tell me what a bruise is.”  “It’s broken blood vessels under the skin which cause discolouration.”  “Bingo. Now, obviously being spanked with a hand will leave less obvious bruises than being hit with a crop will and usually a paddle will bruise less than....i don’t know, a leather belt. But there's lots of factors to consider. The sub’s age, diet, the colour of their skin, their hydration level, how much sun exposure they’ve had recently, stress levels, hormones. And the biggest of all is how much stimulus they receive on that part of the body. The more you hit a spot, the deeper it will bruise. So, don’t expect bruises and marks to appear exactly the same every time you make them. There are some ways to heighten or lessen marks left during BDSM, but I’ll go through those when you’re ready for our practical lessons. And we’ll also go through some ideas for popular scenes and positions before we settle on what our scene will look like.” Roger seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, “Of course, it’s not so late we have to stop. If you did want to start testing out some light impact play, or if you wanted to revisit a previous topic, you’re more than welcome to come back to mine.”  “No,” you said much too fast, the suggestion catching you completely off guard.  “Okay, no problem,” Roger said, his eyes downcast.  “I didn’t mean...just that tonight’s not great timing.” You’d really thought you’d got out of having to talk about it but you could see Roger was going to ask what you were talking about when on a regular tutoring night you’d likely still be in his bed. All the same you couldn’t quite make eye contact as you explained, “My period started last night, that’s all. Makes things a bit awkward.”  “Oh is that all?”  You shrugged, “Yeah.”  “Well there’s no need to feel awkward or embarrassed about that. And there’s no reason to hide it from me. Aside from the fact that I’ve been married and had kids, I’ve also been teaching biology for longer than I care to count, so I’m very familiar with the reproductive processes and the reality of the menstrual cycle.”  “I knew you were going to say something like that.”  “Because it’s true. And besides, periods are important to factor into our lessons because they can change how you’ll respond to various kinks. Fluctuating hormone levels can change how much you enjoy or desire sex, as well as the physical sensation of different forms of touch. A lot of women find breast stimulation uncomfortable in the lead up to their period because their breasts become tender at that stage of their cycle. It can also make vaginal sex undesirable, at least in the first couple of days if not longer, whether because of a physical discomfort or pain, or just because it makes sex messier and more annoying to clean up after. The hormonal shifts in a menstrual cycle can also effect libido too, either stopping you from feeling aroused or causing hyper arousal. And all of that is important to consider, especially when we get to other things like orgasm denial. So, don’t feel you have to hide your periods from me, okay? I want to know if something is going to effect how enjoyable these lessons are for you. And plus, I factored periods into the timeline, remember? If you want to postpone for a week we can.  His little speech did put you at ease a bit, the weight of admitting the truth no longer as heavy now that he knew, but it still wasn’t an especially comfortable conversation, “Well, I should be okay to go in a few days.”  “Would you be up for having sex on one of the last days of your period when your flow is a little lighter? Or would you rather wait until after it was finished?”  You tried not to cringe too much upon hearing Roger talk about your flow, “After I think. I don’t know. How do you feel about it?”  Roger shrugged, “If we were just having sex without the kinky stuff I’d be okay with period sex. It’s a little more effort since we’d need to put towels down and all that but I’m not completely opposed to it if we’re both in the mood. However, I think since we’re playing with BDSM it’s probably a good idea to wait.”  You nodded, glad the topic was almost settled, “Yeah, that makes sense. I think I’d feel too self-conscious to enjoy any period sex but you’re definitely right about the BDSM stuff. Just makes it easier for my first time trying things out if I’m not worrying about, um, bleeding everywhere.”  Roger gave you a reassuring smile which made your heart flutter, grateful he hadn’t made things too difficult or drawn out, “That’s settled then. We can put a pin in all of this for now and come back to it when you’re ready.”  “Thanks. Will Friday suit? I think I should be right by then.”  “Friday sounds great.”  “Really? You don’t have to, like, pick up the kids or anything?”  Roger shook his head, amused, “No. It is technically my weekend with them but they’re both staying at friend’s placed over night so I won’t see them until Saturday. Friday we can start testing some things and if we need to, we can come back next Monday and go through more. And I finish a bit earlier on Fridays so maybe we could start a bit earlier.”  “Yeah that works for me.”  “Great. I guess we should get out of here then.” Roger ushered you from the classroom and walked beside you all the way to the carpark, your footsteps echoing down the corridors. He chatted to you quietly about non-kinky topics, as if you’d merely ended up walking the same direction by accident, just in case anyone was looking.   You were almost sad to reach your car, drawing the conversation to an end, “This is me.”  “One last thing, Ms Y/L/M.”  “Mmm?”  “For homework-”  “Homework?”  “Yes. For homework I want you to watch some porn with impact play in it. You’ll find a few examples linked in a document I’ve dropped in our folder but feel free to find your own too. It can be spanking by hand or flogging or any other form of impact we discussed today, whatever turns you on most. Because I want you horny when I see you on Friday. I want you to spend all week thinking about naughty sluts who get spanks, knowing you’ll soon be one of them. I want you excited to be hit and wet at the thought of me spanking your arse and cunt while I fill your holes with cock. Is that clear?”  Roger had leant closer as he talked and your stomach did a backflip as he stood up. All you could do was nod, completely lost for words as Roger chuckled and walked into the dark towards his own car.   

[hopefulstarfire]

Late night thoughts bc I can't stop thinking about the Plo takes Anakin on as a Padawan AU

So I saw a tiktok about Shmi that stated that she had found out about what happened on Naboo and Qui-Gons death from Watto who heard it from some associates and she writes to the Council to like ask if her baby is okay and they don't answer her.

If this had been the case, for this AU, Plo speaks up, saying they still had a duty to be compassionate to people and she should at least know her son is safe. He actually plans to write the letter in spite of anything the Council says, as it's his Padawan and he is at least understanding to the concerns of people.

It's probably while in writing this that he and Anakin are having a long chat and Plo knows this boy misses his mother and they have to try and teach him how to have attachments in a healthy manner. And then Anakin talks about his dream. He wants to go back one day and free all of the slaves. Including his mother.

Plo sits back for a moment. There is true kindness coming from the trauma this little nine year old has endured. He understands even more where a lot of this boys fear and frustration had come from. Like oh the pieces are finally coming together and he has a better idea on how to help this kid.

He also knows that slavery is abhorrent. And that his old buddy Qui-Gon probably had plans to try and spring the boys mother somehow once all had been said and done on his final mission. Because Qui-Gon played by his own fucking rules.

Cue Plo sending a quick message to his dear niece Sha to watch Anakin for a few days and him going to Obi-Wans room in the middle of the night, and this tired newly knighted Jedi is just eighty levels of confused as to why one of the Council is at his door.

"Get dressed, young Kenobi. We're heading to Tatooine and doing something to make your Master proud."

Obi-Wan really has no clue what the fuck he's talking about, and this is probably not gonna look good, but Plo is on the Council and who is he to argue with a Jedi Master?

They hop on a ship and go all the way to the Outer Rim, to Tatooine, with Plo filling Obi-Wan in on the way. He isn't sure if it's the best idea.

"The Council has made it clear that his attachment to his mother could be dangerous, Master Plo Koon. They almost didn't take the boy because of it. Bringing her back to Coruscant would --" "Ease the boy's mind that his mother is not suffering under slavery and clouding his mind further with fear. And give him hope that his dream of freeing all of the slaves, a noble and selfless dream, may one day be achieved. I agree wholeheartedly, young Obi-Wan."

He has Obi-Wan try and help him navigate his way to the city that they had crash landed near. It's about this time in trying to navigate through the city they meet with one of Padmes handmaidens, who was sent to look for Shmi and to pay to free her and bring her to Naboo. "Perfect, she can have a nice residence until we can eventually move her to Coruscant." "It may be easier just to let her stay on Naboo--" "Perhaps. Perhaps not. We shall see."

They eventually find Wattos shop and he's initially reluctant to part with her, regardless of the amount of credits offered. Shmi is plenty of help and he's already lost little Ani bc of the Jedi. But we know in the books Watto was actually kind of worried about Shmi and let her be bought and freed by her eventual husband. He eventually relents here as well ans takes the full amount of credits.

Shmi doesn't know what to expect but she did not expect two new Jedi and a Naboo Royal Handmaiden at her door. She hadn't even expected a response back from the Jedi, but here is her son's new mentor, who's very eager to learn about his new Padawan -- what foods he likes the best, ways that work to comfort him, what he can do to help him adapt and grow into a fine young man.

They help Shmi pack and Shmis still just flabberghasted and a bit emotional. She misses her son and now she knows he really is in safe hands. And now she's freed, when her whole life has been spent being separated from family and being forced into a life of servitude. Now she's free. She can be whatever she wants, do whatever she wants.

Her leaving Tatooine feels like years and years of weight on her shoulders are gone.

When they bring her to Naboo, she asks to write a note to Anakin and Plo promises to bring it to her. She asks him and Obi-Wan both to look out for him, be there for him. A promise both of them intend very well to keep.

They return to the Temple and Plo knows all was worth it when he sees Anakins eyes light up and feel nothing but joy and hope beaming off of him at the news.

He asks to write his mother back and to write a letter to Padme, to thank her, and Plo helps him do so, sending them off. And if his new Padawan wants to continue to write those letters, seeing as it helps keep him focused and grounded and happy, Plo sees nothing wrong with it.

Plo also finds a new friend in Shmi. He knows the importance of life, of finding that importance and compassion and he sees her as someone who is just as kind, determined and strong. They become really good friends through their letters and should she move to Coruscant, set up and never having to want for anything ever again, who is he to not stop by maybe once a week or so with little Anakin in tow to have tea with her?

Shmis cooking is also far greater than anything served at the Temple so there is that added bonus as well.

I also would like to believe that, during the Clone Wars, the Wolf Pack know that, while on shore leave, if they need a place to relax and find a good meal, they are to go to Shmi. She also helps get them and the 501st some civvies to wear. They're nothing fancy, but they're clothes all the same, ones that aren't just their regulation blacks and their armor.

And she totally helped Plo get the Wolf Pack emblems on his vambraces. Just saying.

[kasienda]

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 7 - Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Chapter 4: A Thank You

Chapter 5: Unwanted Revelations

Chapter 6: Miraculous Abuse

Chapter 7: Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Adrien’s room felt more like a prison than it ever had before, and he had always felt like the walls were closing in on him a bit, and so that afternoon he had snuck out to Nino’s the second he had managed to chase Nathalie out of his room. 

Nino’s room - despite being small and cramped - never made Adrien feel claustrophobic. Adrien suspected it had something to do with the company. 

“What should my snake name be?” Nino asked out of nowhere.

“You’re not going to use it!” Adrien objected. “You don’t need a name.”

“Come on, dude! Just for fun!” 

Adrien sighed. “Basilisk.” 

Nino tapped his lips in consideration. “It’s okay. I don’t feel much like the king of anything.” 

“Python.” 

“Boring.”

“Diamondback.” 

Nino’s eyebrows furrowed together. “What does Diamondback have to do with anything?”

“It’s a type of snake,” Adrien explained, and then turned to Nino with a smirk. “But it’s also a type of turtle.” 

Nino just shook his head. “That’s a better reason not to use it. No associations with turtles! We gotta keep my identity super secret!”

“The best way to keep it secret is to not use the snake at all!” 

“What about something to do with time?” Nino asked, ignoring Adrien’s objection. 

“Cronos.” 

“Also boring! Dude! Why are you so bad at this?”

“I don’t see you coming up with anything.”

“Because you’re definitely the cooler of the two of us,” Nino said.  

Adrien shook his head. “Nino, I named myself Black Cat. I’m not super original when it comes to names.” 

Nino laughed. “Fair point.”

“And you are just as cool as me,” he insisted, though he whipped out his phone anyway and typed out a search for ‘names related to time’ and started scrolling through various sites with baby and pet names. 

“What do you think of Baqi?” Adrien asked. “It means eternal.” 

Nino frowned. “That’s an arabic name. Do you think me taking on an arabic name is potentially identity revealing?”

“Okay, here’s one in sanskrit. Ananta.”

Nino nodded. “A bit of a mouthful, but I like it.” 

Adrien’s eyebrows rose. “A mouthful compared to Carapace?”

Nino laughed. “What’s it mean?” 

“Infinite.” 

“Dude! Perfect. Let’s go with Ananta. I wonder what I look like with the snake.”

Adrien groaned, seriously regretting in that moment giving Nino the Snake instead of Ladybug.

“Do you not want me to?” Nino asked seriously.

Adrien waved his hand in encouragement. “Just do it. I’d be curious too.” He was curious, too. 

Nino grinned and scrambled to his feet. “Sass! Scales slither.”

Adrien found himself mirroring Nino’s excitement. These silly stupid moments with Nino were the ones that were keeping him sane at the moment. 

The rest of the time he was a bit of a mess. 

Keep reading on Ao3

Adrien found himself a lot more resentful of his homework than normal when it stole away most of his time to spend on his friends and on himself now that he was used to being able to finish at least half of it in the space of five minutes as far as the rest of the world was concerned. 

And it didn’t help that it was suddenly so much harder to pay attention in class since he was hyper aware of Marinette sitting right behind him every single day. 

Seeing her in general was really hard because he knew how she felt. He knew that if he asked her out she would likely say yes, and he had to hold himself back. Before he had given up the snake, he had been able to scratch that itch by visiting her in the evenings in a time loop. 

Now? Now, he had to survive off of her garbled greetings and flustered blushes. 

He lived for her blushes. The blush that had always been there since he had apologized to her in the rain the day they met. He had thought she was just shy and self-conscious. But now, it was easy to recognize that she didn’t do it around anyone else - not even Chat Noir. That blush was reserved for Adrien Agreste and Adrien Agreste alone. 

It meant that she loved him. 

It was a good thing that it didn’t take much to trigger. Just a simple greeting often did the trick. 

“Good morning, Marinette.” 

And the pink would bloom across her cheeks like flowers in spring every time. 

That blush kept him from going out of his mind. It reminded him that she still loved him even if she wasn’t able to say it. 

A god, he hoped that she didn’t say anything because right now, he wasn’t ever going to be able to say no. 

“G-good morning, Adrien.”

He smiled. Her stutter was less reliable. She was getting better at talking to him, which he figured was a good sign, but he also loved that he could still fluster her on occasion. “How are you?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” she said.

He didn’t like that answer. He knew that it wasn’t real. He turned to her as she sat down, and leaned into her space. “Marinette, how are you, really?” 

She looked at him in surprise. “I’m… things were rough for awhile, but I think I’m starting to get a handle on the new order of things.” 

“I’m glad.” And he meant it. Telling Alya had clearly changed things for her for the better. He was so glad she didn’t have to hold the weight of the world alone anymore. 

“How are you?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “I’m still figuring out my new order of things, but I like to think that things are actually trending in the right direction.” It might even be true. He wasn’t sure, to be honest. He was definitely getting better at coping with the absolute insanity his life had become if nothing else. 

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” she asked.

He smiled. “Of course.” 

It wasn’t everything he wanted. It wasn’t everything he knew the moment could be. 

But… it was enough.

At least most of the time. 

When it wasn’t, he called Nino and screamed about the injustice of it all, whines about how unfair and unreasonable his father was,  cursed Shadowmoth’s existence to all nine levels of hell, ranted about how much he just wanted to be able to be done with it all so that he and Ladybug didn’t have to worry about akumas or the end of the world. They could just be teenagers.

They could just be happy. 

But Shadowmoth clearly had other plans. After a lull, the akumas exploded both in frequency and awfulness. The encounters were taking longer to handle - especially without the benefit of the snake - and Adrien was having a much harder time explaining his disappearances and his father was suddenly breathing down his neck even more than usual. 

“Your marks have not been up to your usual standard, Adrien.” 

“I’m sorry, father.”

“Need I remind you that you promised you would continue to excel if you started at public school? If you cannot maintain the usual standards of excellence, I will not hesitate to return you to lessons with private tutors.”

Adrien hung his head. “Yes, father.” 

“In the meantime, you will spend less time with your friends until your grades improve.” 

Adrien sighed, and trudged back to his room. The punishment meant almost nothing because as far as his father was concerned, he only was allotted an hour a week with his friends, and usually a photoshoot got scheduled on top of his scheduled “friend time”. And of course, Adrien was actually hanging out with Nino almost every day without his father’s knowledge. 

But he felt exhausted anyway. He was tired of shoots, he was tired of homework, he was tired of Akumas, and he was most definitely tired of pretending. Tired of pretending for the sake of his father’s company image, tired of pretending he wasn’t worn down to nothing from all the responsibilities of both his personas, tired of pretending Marinette was just a friend. 

He flopped onto his bed only for the akuma alert to go off two minutes later. Adrien groaned. It was the second one that day and the fifth one that week.

But Adrien dragged himself to his feet anyway. At least he would get to see Marinette again.

But it wasn’t Ladybug he ran into on the scene.

It was Ananta. 

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Chat Noir demanded. 

Ananta was hiding hunched over in an alleyway with the whole akuma scene in clear view. “Just offering a little insurance. I haven’t actually engaged in any of the battles, but they’ve seemed a little rough lately.”

“Battles?” Chat Noir repeated. “As in plural, as in more than one?”

Ananta winced. “Yeah, I’ve been doing this for the last four or five akumas because things have seemed super dicey for you. But I haven’t actually engaged with the akuma or anything.”

“How many loops?” Adrien asked harshly.

“So far, none. You’re that awesome, dude!” Ananta raved, clapping Chat Noir on the back.  “You would have known if I had been through a loop because I’d have to intervene to give you the info on the last loop, right?”

Adrien relaxed. “Right.” 

....

But the akuma after that, Nino did intervene. 

But at least Ananta had managed to stay out of Ladybug’s sight and out of any pictures. 

And after the fact, Nino had insisted he had only needed three loops to defeat that akuma. 

“I don’t like it,” Adrien had insisted anyway. “Please, don’t use it anymore.” 

“Dude! I’m not doing this for some adrenaline rush. I’m not like Alya who goes looking for trouble, or like you who insists on throwing yourself in front of the blasts. I’m doing this only because it’s clear that Hawkmoth has stepped up his game, and you need support.” 

Adrien started to object. 

“Ladybug needs support, too,” Nino added. 

Which was such a low blow. Because Adrien was never going to be able to argue with that. 

“Unless you want to take it back?” Nino offered.

Adrien considered it. He didn’t want Nino to get stuck in a battle loop. He didn’t want Nino to experience anything like Desperada. At least in his own case, he was already damaged and traumatized by what he had experienced.

But even the idea of taking it scared the crap out of him. Because there was no way he wouldn’t use it to visit Marinette. 

He missed her with every fiber of his being. It had only been three weeks. Three weeks where he hadn’t been able to have a conversation with her without filters, three weeks since he had been able to kiss her. He hadn’t been able to kiss her for like three weeks. Three excruciating long weeks where he hadn’t been able to tell her that Adrien and Chat Noir were one in the same. Where he had been truly seen for all that he was and truly loved because of it. 

And the more time that went by the less convinced he was that he’d be able to come out of that loop.

“No, you should still hang onto it,” he whispered. 

“Or if you wanted, we could give it back to Ladybug,” Nino suggested. “She could hand it out to whoever Viperion is.” 

Which was reasonable. Though Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted Luka to experience a bad battlefield loop either. 

Then the akuma alert rang simultaneously from both their phones. Adrien covered his hands in his face. 

“Gah! Does he never sleep?!” 

“Come on, mec. Let’s go.” 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” 

During the battle, Nino had intervened, but he hadn’t intervened with Chat Noir; he had spoken to Ladybug in the final loop. The battle had gone amazingly smoothly after that, but Ananta slipped away before the traditional fist bump and Ladybug was not pleased. 

She was pissed. 

“You lost the snake?!” Ladybug demanded, her blue eyes flashing in anger.

“I didn’t lose it!” he said defensively. “I know exactly where it is.”

“You gave it away? Why?”

His claws tore through his own hair as he took a deep breath. “Because… it wasn’t safe with me anymore,” he admitted softly.

Some of her anger faded, replaced with concern. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t explain without telling you things you’ve told me not to tell you.” Which was mostly true. 

She fidgeted on the spot, considering. “Can you tell me who he is?” she asked. 

He laughed. “Definitely not.” 

“What?! Why not?”

“I gave it to my best friend, Ladybug. If you know who he is, you’ll know who I am. And that apparently might lead to the end of the world,” he bit out sarcastically. 

She frowned. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” he admitted. 

“What can I do?” she asked. 

“You can’t do anything,” he told her gently. “I’m handling it.” 

“I… I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with you,” she admitted. 

He laughed darkly. “Welcome to my world.”

She blushed. She actually blushed! He had made her blush as Chat Noir! Sure, it was probably more out of embarrassment than love, but he would take it!

“I guess I deserved that one,” she said. 

He took her hand and squeezed it. He wished he could sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but he couldn’t risk that. “I know exactly how frustrating it is to be left in the dark.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

He shook his head, squeezing her hand through their gloves once again. What would it feel like to hold her hand when neither of them was transformed? He wanted to find out. He wanted it so bad.  

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” he said. “I just want you to know that I understand. And I will tell you everything when it’s safe. In the meantime, can you please just trust me?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. You know that I do!”

And he did, now, didn’t he? 

He smiled. 

“I’m just…  I’m scared that if something happens to you, the snake will be lost,” she said.

“The person I gave it to knows how to get it back to you in that case,” he said.

“And how would he get it back to me?” she asked.

“He’d give it to you or to Rena Rouge during a patrol.”

She seemed startled at his inclusion of Rena Rouge, but she nodded. “You trust him?”

“I trust him more than I trust myself. And as much as I trust you.” 

“And they can handle the side effects of the snake?” 

Adrien sighed again. That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Could anyone handle the effects of the snake? “He’s done really well so far. This wasn’t the first battle where he’s been here, offering us a bit of insurance.”

She winced. “Yeah, the akumas have sucked lately.”

“Tell me about it.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry that I questioned you. I do trust you and your judgement. Your friend can keep the snake as long as you think it’s best.” 

“Thank you, LB,” he said softly. 

She nodded and smiled. He returned the expression and offered her a friendly salute. 

Then he vaulted straight for Nino’s family home. 

“How many loops?” Adrien asked without preamble. 

Nino rolled his eyes. “It was nineteen this time. But it wasn’t bad at all, dude. Kinda weird and trippy, but not so bad.”

But Adrien didn’t like it. He feared the number would keep growing. How many loops was too many? 

Adrien didn’t know.

…

His father had missed eight dinners in a row, and Adrien couldn’t decide if he felt relieved or disappointed.

On one hand, his father’s absence meant Adrien could ask to eat in his room, which meant he could escape the mansion that much sooner. And Nino actually wanted to spend time with Adrien.

It also meant he’d avoid his father’s censure about everything from his last photoshoot to the way he held his fork. Adrien simply did not have the energy to be on his best behavior.

But his father’s continued absence also felt like it reaffirmed Adrien’s fears - that his father didn’t care. And the longer his father’s absence the more desperate Adrien was for any sign, no matter how small, that his father had thought about him at all. 

When his father’s scowling face did join him at the dining room table on evening number nine, Adrien regretted ever wishing for his father to make an appearance. 

“Your grades have dropped unacceptably low,” were the first words out of his father’s mouth.

Adrien fought off his eye roll. He literally had two B’s and the rest of his classes were A’s. Admittedly one of them was borderline, but he didn’t think anyone else’s parents in his class would have found his performance subpar even if this was the lowest his own grades had ever been in his life.

“You also didn’t behave professionally at the last photoshoot. You arrived late and your hair and make-up had to be redone.”

Adrien sighed. That had been four Akumas ago. Or was it five? Honestly, Adrien was losing track. 

“We didn’t get all the shots we needed. It has been rescheduled for Monday morning. You have two weeks to turn around both your attitude and your grades,” he father said without an ounce of warmth or concern, “or you will return to home schooling.”

Adrien sighed. “I’m sorry I have disappointed you father. I have been… having a hard time maintaining my motivation lately.”

Gabriel’s expression did not change at all. “Why?” he asked. 

Adrien froze at the question. He didn’t know what to say because he knew there wasn’t a correct answer. And not answering at all wasn’t acceptable either. He was going to lose here no matter what. 

He shouldn’t have said anything other than he would try harder.

Well, if he was screwed no matter what, might as well go with the truth.

“I think I’ve been depressed lately,” he admitted. 

“You’re not qualified to make that assessment.”

“I suppose not,” Adrien conceded. But would his father offer to send him to someone who was? 

Most likely not.

“What do you have to be depressed about?” Gabriel asked coldly. 

And something within Adrien just snapped. Whether it was his sleep deprivation, being beyond overworked both physically and mentally, or his longing to drop all the masks, or some combination of all of it, Adrien didn’t know. 

“Are you kidding me right now?” Adrien demanded. “Every second of every day of my life is planned without my input or consideration. I have no control. But I do all of it anyway. I train for national fencing competitions, get perfect scores, work I-don’t-know-how-many hours a week modeling for you. I have no space to breathe, let alone enjoy anything. I feel like a programmed robot going through a routine!”

The room fell into silence as Adrien’s tirade ended abruptly. Every muscle was locked and tense, waiting for punishment and condemnation. And despite that, Adrien couldn’t bring himself to regret it because, well, he was screwed either way at this point, so he might as well go down with a bang.

“Are you finished?” his father asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but Adrien flinched anyway. 

“Yes, father,” he said meekly. 

Gabriel removed his glasses and began cleaning them. “Clearly, I have expected too much of you.”

Adrien knew better than to find any relief in that conclusion. 

“I will arrange with Nathalie to have your schedule adjusted. She will add additional recreational activities suitable to a boy of your age, and reduce your current obligations significantly.” 

Which translated to they would remove him from school and schedule his so called free time with activities that Adrien had no interest in or with other teenagers he didn’t know.

“Father, I appreciate your concern,” he said formally. “That will not be necessary. I was having a weak moment. I will work harder,” he promised, though Adrien knew he wouldn’t be able to manage much more at the moment. 

His father nodded. “I look forward to seeing notes of your improved performance this Friday.” 

And now he had five days instead of two full weeks. 

Adrien wanted to scream. And he did scream later that night when he had escaped to Nino’s bedroom for the tenth time that week. He ranted and complained about the unfairness of it all, and Nino just listened with rapt attention.

“Can I at least deck him, dude? Please?” Nino asked when Adrien had finally run out of steam. “Just once? He won’t even remember!” 

Adrien laughed. “It won’t help anything.”

“I might feel better,” Nino disagreed. “You might, too.” 

And then an akuma alert sounded from both of their phones. 

They both groaned, but a second later, they had both transformed and were leaping out of Nino’s bedroom window.

The akuma was a porcupine the size of a bus. It’s spines did not look remotely friendly. That first impression solidified tenfold when the akuma started hurling the spines off its back like javelins in a jousting tournament. 

But despite his initial misgivings, the fight could not have gone more smoothly. 

Ananta had barreled both he and Ladybug out of the way, and helped them identify the akumatized item pretty much instantly. The whole encounter lasted about three minutes. 

But when he turned to Ladybug and Ananta for their traditional fist bump, Ananta had pushed past the offered fist and tackled him in a hug. Adrien returned the embrace with a surprised grunt. A second later he felt Nino’s quaking form in his arms. 

Apparently, the fight hadn’t been all that smooth afterall. 

“How many loops?” Adrien asked softly. 

“You don’t want to know,” Nino sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Ananta,” Adrien growled.

“1,674,” Nino admitted.

Ladybug tried to reassure them both with small hands on their shoulders. Nino just pulled her into the hug, too, and didn’t let go. 

“I’m really glad you’re both okay,” he cried and then he dissolved into wracking sobs again. Chat Noir and Ladybug both held him tightly.

But Ladybug couldn’t stay, as she was about to time out. She pulled away from their group hug with a concerned frown. 

“Are you going to be okay with him?” 

“Don’t worry,” Adrien assured her. “I’ll take him home and make sure he’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry I have to run,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien said again, before wrapping one of Nino’s arms over his shoulder and vaulting them both up to the nearest rooftop. 

He then ducked them both into a secluded alleyway that Chat Noir had used to transform before. Nino hadn’t stopped crying the entire time. 

“Nino, can you hear me?” 

Nino nodded.

“You need to lose the transformation, so we can feed Sass. Can you do that?” 

Nino managed to follow the instructions through hysterical sobs. Adrien followed suit and both kwami’s ate a slice of Plagg’s cheese. It was a sign of how serious everything was that neither kwami complained. Adrien transformed again.

“Okay Nino. You need to transform again, and then start a loop. Stay in that loop until you’re able to stop crying, you got it? It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will be here with you the whole time.”

Nino was still shaking and crying, but he managed to choke out the transformation phrase and called for his second chance. 

Instantly, Ananta stood before him, infinitely calmer than he had been just a second prior. 

“Woah,” Adrien said. “That’s weird. How long?” 

“Just a few hours,” Nino said, his voice was quiet, but it was steady. Adrien wrapped him into a hug. 

“Thank you,” Nino whispered. 

“As you have told me many many times, as many times as you need, whenever you need.”

“I don’t know how you have dealt with it so well,” Nino said. 

“I mean, you don’t remember all the times I was as much of mess as you were just a few seconds ago.” 

“I remember you freaking out about learning Ladybug’s identity,” Nino countered. “I… I didn’t understand why you didn’t want me to use it for battles. I… get it now.” 

“I’m sorry,” Adrien whispered. 

Nino shook his head. “The alternative would have been so much worse, dude. You would have lost this one.” 

“Thank you for saving our lives then. I’m sorry for what it has cost you.” 

Nino shrugged. “I think I’ll be okay. Can I keep it for a few more days? Abuse it a bit?” 

Adrien nodded. “Yeah of course. Abuse it like crazy and it will put space between you and what happened.”

Nino nodded, and actually smiled. And for the first time, Adrien was positive things would be okay. 

“I already have some ideas,” Nino said.  

“Do I want to know?” Adrien asked. 

Nino’s grin was wolffish. That was a no.

“Have fun, dude.”

… 

Nino still felt shaky the next morning. It was too easy to close his eyes and see his best friend impaled through the chest, his green eyes wide in shock. But it almost worked out in his favor because it hadn’t taken any convincing for his parents to agree he should stay home from school. They thought he was coming down with something - that he had chills. 

He didn’t correct them. 

He just rocked himself back and forth, nursing the tea his mother had brought up to him, and waited for both of them to leave for work. The second the door had closed behind them, he had bolted out his window as Ananta. 

The freerunning helped, but it wasn’t enough. He had just gotten too good at it - he could leap across rooftops almost without thinking now, and certainly without any fear. What could seem terrifying after everything he had seen the day before? 

And that was how Nino found himself on top of the Eiffel Tower staring down at the ground below - the ground that according to his best friend was 324 meters below him. Adrien had said at one point long before Nino had ever known of his friend’s superhero identity that it would take just over eight seconds to fall to the ground, probably a little longer because of air resistance. 

Nino had never thought anything of why Adrien had taken the time to calculate that. He had just assumed Adrien was a nerd who liked physics and had too much time on his hands. Now, he found himself wondering if Adrien had calculated that for an entirely different reason. 

Nino activated the second chance and leapt off the tower backwards with an ecstatic whoop. He slid his fingers across the bracelet five seconds into his fall, and rematerialized at the top of the tower giggling. 

Now, that was base jumping. He performed the trick dozens of times diving off the tower in different angles and positions. 

He knew Sass did not approve. The kwami had said as much when he mentioned the idea this morning. Adrien likely wouldn’t either, but Nino would only tell him well after the fact. 

But the adrenaline rush was exactly what he needed to wipe away the memories from the day before. 

Next, he had broken through his homeroom’s window, and swept Alya up in his arms. He definitely noticed Marinette’s disapproving glare, and Adrien burying his face in his hands, but he didn’t have to care about this. In four and a half minutes, this would have never happened. 

“Ask me to tell you that I love you,” he said. 

She arched her eyebrows. “Am I going to regret this?” 

“Nope! No repercussions today.” 

“Tell me that you love me,” she said, her face alight in a grin. 

“I love you,” he said. 

“How much?” 

“More than a superhero,” he said. 

She smiled, and her fingers locked around his neck. Then he kissed her hard. The whole class was catcalling behind them, and Ms. Bustier was trying to restore order. 

Alya was giggling against his lips. “I can’t believe you.” 

“I’m just getting started,” he promised. 

He went through hundreds more loops abducting Alya from parts of her day. It was different every time, and he was insanely grateful that she played along as soon as she realized it was him each time without even knowing that he was having a tough time. 

Or maybe, she did know. Like, she had covered Ananta’s exploits the day before on the Ladyblog. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read the post, but someone had no doubt had caught the tearful group hug at the end of the battle, and Alya would have had a better guess than most what that likely meant. 

And so when he showed up as Ananta and revealed himself to be her boyfriend she would know that had been him. 

She didn’t ask questions or demand explanations. She just laughed and kissed him over and over. She let him abduct her from their dreary classes over and over and bury his face in her curls and wrap himself in her protective embrace until his senses were overwhelmed with all things Alya.

God, he loved her so much. 

The tricky part was then trying to escape from each of their teachers. Surprisingly Mendeliev had been the easiest to slip around, but Bustier had given him quite the run around. 

Once the school day was over he had followed Adrien’s limo home. He had intended to spend a few loops just being stupid with Adrien, but once there… well, he had been wanting to give Gabriel a piece of his mind since Nino had befriended his son. He had only held back because Adrien wanted him to, and Gabriel was terrifying. If only one of those things had been true, Nino thinks he would have pushed it ages ago. 

Ananta set the timer from the rooftop of the mansion and then broke through the front doors. 

Nathalie jumped to her feet, but he ignored her and stormed straight for Gabriel’s office. 

Gabriel rose to his feet more slowly than Nathalie had to face his intruder. 

“Gabriel Agreste, I’m here to tell you that you are the absolute worst parent.”

The older man gestured Nathalie away from the door. She stepped back, but she did not close the door. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave,” the stoic man said, barely raising his voice, which Nino found infuriating. 

“No! Not until I’ve said my piece.”

Gabriel took a visibly annoyed breath. “You’re clearly a teenager.” 

“Your point?”

“You’re hardly qualified to judge my parenting approaches.” 

Nino wanted to pull his hair out.

“Except that I am because I’m the one who picks Adrien back up everytime you tear him down!”

Gabriel considered him stoically for a moment, his hands hidden behind his back. 

“Mr. Lahiffe, I have already banned you from the premises. Your adopting an anonymous persona does not negate those rules.” 

“Your rules are stupid and unfair! Adrien is amazing! He gets the highest grades! He has an insane work ethic, and is always kind and respectful to everyone! He does everything you ask of him! And then he does more! He’s an Olympic level fencer and is fluent in three languages!

“And somehow, you still find him wanting. You never give him the time of day. You never tell him you’re proud of him or that you love him! At best, you ignore him, and at worst you take the time to point out every tiny fault!” 

“He internalizes everything you say, everything you ask for. He tears himself to pieces trying to meet your impossible expectations, he buries his struggles and doubts, and you don’t even acknowledge his effort or his love for you.” 

Nino was shaking in rage at this point. Gabriel still seemed unaffected. 

“Are you finished?” The man asked indifferently. 

“No! I’m not! I don’t know if you know how much you’ve harmed him! How many times I’ve been legit worried that he was going to hurt himself or give up! 

“Somehow, he’s been able to survive it. But not because of any of the crap  you’ve taught him about being strong and exceptional. He’s just that resilient!” 

“Which is a good thing because he’s also Chat Noir!”

Gabriel’s lips tightened and his eyes narrowed, and Nino wanted to run a victory lap for finally getting a reaction from the asshole. 

Nino barreled forward. “He manages being a superhero in between all the hoops and circus you run him through! And if he’s been struggling more than normal lately, it’s only because Hawkmoth has been putting him through the wringer.” 

“Nathalie!” He called. 

Nathalie marched into the room so fast, Nino was convinced she had been waiting right outside the open door the entire time listening in. 

“Didn’t we eliminate the possibility of Adrien being Chat Noir during Gorizilla?” 

Nathalie typed something into her tablet and handed it to him. 

“It looks like we did not get facial confirmation, sir. The person we presumed to be Adrien was wearing a helmet.” 

Gabriel removed his glasses and began cleaning them. “My own son, this entire time.” 

Nino felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at Gabriel’s emotionless words that felt like a prison sentence.

Nino’s miraculous beeped. 

Gabriel’s stormy grey eyes shot toward the sound, and Nino took an involuntary step back.

And then Adrien’s father did something Nino never would have predicted. He lunged forward and struck Nino in the knee, and grabbed for the snake miraculous.

Nino dropped to the ground in agony, and jerked his arm just out of reach behind his back. 

“Second chance!” Nino screamed, sliding his other hand over the switch, grateful that he had so much practice in the last few days that the motion was automatic. 

He was back on the roof of the Agreste Mansion. His knee cap was fine, but his heart was roaring in his ears. 

That had not gone as he had been expecting. Not at all. 

Gabriel had actually attacked him and tried to take his miraculous. 

Nino wasn’t sure what it all meant. But he knew it couldn’t be good. 

...

[stickandthorn]

essek for character ask?

First impression - Huh look, another one of Matt’s intimidating NPCs. Seems like Matt’s having fun with him, I guess Kryn higher ups are arrogant stuck ups. Huh.

Impression now - I love this character so much. He’s so deeply fascinating, a case study on the effects of a support system and empathy and forgiveness, and seeing his character develop real time was fascinating. I love his magic and his balance of evil to eventual somewhat good, it’s just so cool. He was so deep for an NPC, and I’m so glad so much time got devoted to doing what I think is a near perfect “redemption arc.” I also think Matt balanced him being an NPC vs the partying wanting him around a lot really well. 

Favorite moment - I think my favorite moment would have to be the whole scene on the boat. I have a lot of moments I love, but that reveal was just perfect, and the emotional impact of their discussion with him after was great. It was the tipping point for him into some sort of redemption, and it was acted so beautifully. I also loved having a live audience for it, it just added to the emotional weight.

Idea for a story - This is just a silly one, but I’d love a story of him traveling in Marquet and meeting the new characters, and going “Oh god I recognize this kind of disaster”. What can I say, Zion love me a crossover fic. Another one I’d like, on a more serious note, is a simple introspective character piece about Essek fighting to do good in the world without the Mighty Nein always around him. He isn’t fighting against other people, but the fact that it is not a simple and easy thing to be a “good person”, and someone who had his mentality (cough cough netrual evil) for so long would have a very hard time adjusting to doing good in the world. He isn’t inherently selfless, but he’s trying to learn, and I think it’d be interesting story to write. Maybe a simple one set in Tal’Dorei or Marquet, helping normal people in a relatively low power environment, or something like that.

Unpopular opinion - Ok, this might be a really unpopular one, but I… really dislike a lot of fanon for Essek, especially post canon. At first I enjoyed a lot of it because I felt like we needed some fun brevity in out headcanons, because it was almost entirely lifespan angst about him and Caleb after the finale. But now, I just entirely dislike most of it. Not all of it, there’s plenty of stuff out there that is good, but a good chunk of the stuff about Caleb and Essek (which is most of it) just feels like a complete misunderstanding of the characters and what relationship they would have. It feels like people projecting what they want on the two of them, not actually considering the reality of what their relationship would be. The same can be said for the rare stuff about Essek himself, I feel like a lot of traits and ideas are assigned to him that just aren’t the case, and I often have to go back and rewatch Essek clips to remind myself what I like about him. I could say a lot more on the exact specifics that upset me, but It’s other people’s fanon, and it isn’t hurting anyone, so I’m not gonna hate post about it. It’s just some fun fics and ideas and not my business, but I do think that a good chunk of the stuff out there about them is a total misinterpretation of him and his relationships and future. The one detail I will say, is that there are a good few people who need to read up on what being Demi really is. Because I see a lot of tags for “canon demi character” but very little actual representation of him being so, outside of the main canon.

Favorite relationship - Essek and Caleb. I know that’s the basic one, but seriously, I just adore the level on which they communicate. It feels like in making two people who so entirely got each other, Liam and Matt were able to make such a detailed and complicated relationship in surprisingly little time, it was just so layered and complicated, and in the end bittersweet, and I just deeply adored it. Like, the way they both instantly got the weird metaphor talk they both used is quite honestly insane, it’s great. A second favorite and less obvious one would be him and Veth. Their interactions were rare, but they were always absolute gold, the characters bounced off each other in a really surprising but good way.

Favorite headcanon - Essek actually becomes, if not friends, then good acquaintances with Astrid and Eodwulf. I don’t know if they could ever become real friends, but I like the idea of them getting to know each other at the blooming grove and seeing a lot of themselves in the other. Even if they aren’t close, they understand one another, and very occasionally do favors for each other that only the other could do, or would understand. If Caleb and Essek are similar, in some ways, not all, but some, I’d say Essek and Astrid and Eodwulf are more so.

[woodaba]

Reddit's Revenge: The Stanley Parable Ultra Deluxe

It's easy to look back at The Stanley Parable and laugh at it. It is, after all, a kind of self-important bluster of a game, that kicked down the door and made smarmy observations about video games that were getting pretty tired even in 2013. As a mod, it did what it did and did it extremely well, but the more re-releases that pass and the more money it charges, the less sense The Stanley Parable makes. I loved it when I first played the mod, loved it a little less when I played the steam release, and ultimately have found it less and less compelling as time goes on, as the times in which the jokes landed got more and more distant and the commentary got more and more trite.

One might reasonably ask why such an aging process has harmed Stanley when it hasn't harmed other games on quite the same level, and my argument for that would be that Stanley, to use a memetic phrase devoid of meaning, insists upon itself. There's little room for interpretation or multifaceted interpretation of it: Stanley Parable is a two-dimensional game, and what I mean by that is that it works on two dimensions: the jokes, and the commentary. There aren't really any other characters or themes or aesthetic twists and flourishes to appreciate: it's a game that is very blunt about what it's saying, and doesn't really have anything to it other than that. Which is fine! Really! But it kinda relies on the things it's saying being really good, and maybe they were, once on the facepunch forums or on ModDb. But now? Not so much.

Which is why the prospect of Ultra Deluxe intrigued me. It represented an opportunity to provide a new experience, to build on what came before, and make a case for Stanley Parable still being relevant, over a decade after the original mod came out. Perhaps I built some unrealistic expectations for it going in, as I did honestly think that a Rebuild of Stanley Parable was the right step to take for this, and I remember feeling similarly deflated by the steam release of Stanley hewing so close to the original mod, but regardless, The Stanley Parable Ultra Deluxe arrives with the enthusiastic impact of a wet fart in an empty room, not so much making a case for the relevance of the work in 2022 as making a supreme demonstration for it's growing irrelevance.

What we have here is an acceptable repackaging of the original game (with some pluses being options to sidestep some of the edgier stuff in the original release, namely the unbearably cringeworthy suicide sequence, and some minuses being the stripping out of jokes in the subtitles and the loss of the language of jokes that Source familiarity provided) alongside some, on the whole, pretty dire new content. Teeth-grindingly ancient observations on collectibles and DLC that would make CTRL+ALT+DEL groan paired with the Bucket. The fucking bucket. All the bucket stuff is absolutely unbearable humor that felt like being trapped in 2012-era reddit with people going on about narwhals and bacon. The superfluity of The Bucket Arc is clearly an argument about the futility of adding extra content in a re-release, but you still went and did it, and it was shit. It's satirical bent never rises above putting a dunce hat on itself and going "look at how dumb we're being". Ultra Deluxe has the same problem as Stanley Parable proper: it cannot help but slam you in the face with it's Point and it's Jokes, and when those land it works, but in Ultra Deluxe they almost never do, so you're just left trudging through a tediously unfunny experience reliving 2015 neoGAF in the most agonizing manner imaginable.

Ultra Deluxe is not without merit: there are truly talented artists and level designers at Crows Crows Crows, and they've crafted some really amazing spaces here. It's something they're really great at: their online multiplayer game/space TheClub.zone (which was shut down to give them time to develop this lol) is proof positive of that. But underneath the enormous weight of The Writing, they're never allowed to live, to breathe beyond beyond being simply The Writing's vehicle, and unfortunately, The Writing here is crap. It's as simple as that.

I wanted Ultra Deluxe to let me love Stanley Parable again. To prove once and for all that it has stood the test of time, that it does have a worthwhile place in video games and video game culture. But after seeing everything Ultra Deluxe has to offer, all I can do is sigh wearily, and type my review, which is as follows.

(ahem)

"Reddit Game."