#it's taken a week of being on our period for me to realise this time. like oh right that's why everything's making me cry

[thethingything]

I forgot that being on our period fucks us up emotionally and gives me really bad dysphoria. that would maybe explain why we've been struggling so much with triggers that aren't normally a huge issue

#personal #thoughts #🍬 post #vent post #period mention #the contraceptive we're on used to stop us having a period altogether but then we started having one every few months #which is just long enough between them for me to forget that it completely wrecks our mental health each time #usually for multiple weeks leading up to it and then until it finishes #there's a very consistent pattern but we forget that pattern exists so we don't realise what's going on #it's taken a week of being on our period for me to realise this time. like oh right that's why everything's making me cry #also we get period pains so bad we can't sit up at times and I don't know what to really do about that #and yeah there's also the dysphoria. I don't normally get that much gender dysphoria from the body being afab #like I'll get dysphoric from being misgendered but the body itself isn't as big of an issue. I just wish is actually looked like me #because not looking like myself when I look in the mirror is distressing #but periods do make me really dysphoric for some reason and I don't really know how to deal with that #at least I have an idea of why our brain has been freaking out particularly badly over everything for a few weeks #(I mean the triggers are still bad enough on their own but like. most of them aren't normally anywhere near this bad)

[ti-bae-rius]

Prompt dailyau (via hailargent)

‘Our flats are opposite each other and your kitchen window faces my kitchen so we always see each other making coffee at 3am’

Ship: KITTY

(I think after the last sobh update we need some happy kitty content)

Even though I know he’s there, I don’t want to look like I’ve been waiting, so I stir my cup of coffee for longer than necessary, the spoon clinking against the mug until the steam has all but stopped rising from it. Then I look up and smile. He raises his mug in greeting and I offer a little wave in return. The knot inside me loosens and I head back to my room, finally able to focus. This strange ritual has become a vital part of my routine and, even though I don’t know him at all, have never even heard his voice, my day feels wrong if we don’t see each other.

It’s been the same thing every day for a couple of months. Perhaps, for some people, that would be dull, but to me it’s like the satisfying pop of a stiff joint. I’m not sure when he moved in, but at some point I noticed it; his apartment is directly across the alley from mine and from my kitchen window I can see his identical flat, the perfect mirror image of my own. When he stands in front of his sink, drinking his coffee, and I do the same at mine, it’s like we’re reflections, inverted versions of one another.

The next evening when I make my coffee, he isn’t there yet. My upstairs neighbours are either having sex or moving furniture. I hope for the latter. Before I can have those hopes dashed, I pull my headphones on and shuffle a playlist. While the water boils, I put dishes away, vague shuffle-dancing from the cupboard to the drying rack and back. When I finally look up, he’s watching me, grinning. Before I can blush too hard, I realise he’s dancing too, in time with me. He moonwalks into his lounge and disappears from view, leaving me to finish making my drink alone. My feet tap to my music right up until I fall asleep, well after I’ve taken my headphones off, and I can’t help wondering if his do too.

The day after, he’s there first, looking as if he’s just woken up despite it being 8 o’clock at night. His elbow is up on the counter and his chin rests on his hand as if he’s in danger of falling asleep on his feet. I can’t stop looking at his hair: no two strands appear to be going in the same direction - it’s fluffy in some places and flattened in others like the grass on a campsite. I motion to my own hair and he pulls his phone out, then looks back to me, mouth open in faux-offence. He pulls his hoodie over his face and yanks on the strings so that his face all but disappears, then flips me off with both hands. The whole day, laughter keeps bubbling between my lips at the memory.

And then the next day arrives, and he isn’t there.

For a whole week, a strange, horrible sourness creeps into me, tainting each day with the feeling that something is wrong. Each day, the world feels a little more off-kilter, like someone is pushing a vase closer and closer to the edge of a table. More than once, I consider throwing something at his window, but knowing me I’d smash the glass or miss completely. Besides, what would I even say?

‘Hello. I’m Ty. You have inadvertently become a part of my daily routine and I’d really appreciate a notice period of 2-3 weeks if you plan to stop assuming that role I’ve never communicated to you. Also it’s very hard to focus because I keep going back to my kitchen hoping to see you and I’ve made so many cups of coffee I’m constantly vibrating.’

It sounded a bit…intense for an introduction.

I briefly consider that maybe he’s gone on vacation, but if I squint I can see the constant flicker of a TV somewhere in the apartment. Then I become hyper aware of how much of a stalker I’m being and back off. At least for a while.

It’s in the second week I really start to panic and become gripped with a horrible fear he’s died. I have no logical basis for this; he’s just a stranger that just so happens to live in an apartment with a kitchen facing my own, but the idea that he’s hurt - or worse - and might be all alone begins to eat away at me. I spend Saturday trying to work out the floor plan of his building to figure out which apartment he’s in, falling down a rabbit hole of horror stories about people dying in their home and not being found for months, and being unable to sleep with completely unwarranted but all-encompassing worry.

Sunday morning when I go to make coffee and don’t see him there, I grab my keys and get dressed. It only takes a minute to walk across to his building, ring the bell for the apartment I think is his. It takes even less time for me to realise how absolutely insane I’m being. The door clicks open and a blue eye peers at me through the crack, the gold chain stopping it from swinging wide. It’s him, with dark rings under his eyes and the beginnings of a shitty beard from not shaving, but him nonetheless. He looks completely baffled to see me and I wish for the universe to rewind two minutes because now I’m here, and he clearly hasn’t died or broken a leg or whatever, I realise how utterly stupid this is. I’m a perfect stranger, on his doorstep, with no reason to be here except that -

“About 30,000 people in Japan die alone in their apartments every year,” I blurt out. I clamp my mouth closed, then open it again to apologise, but against all odds (and common sense) he takes his door off the latch and opens it, leaning against the frame. He’s not as tall as I imagined he’d be, and close up I can see freckles across his nose like he’s been flicked by a paintbrush coated in watercolour. His sweatpants are too long and the cuffs bunch around his bare feet like leg warmers. I rub my hands down my jeans nervously and try again.

“I haven’t seen you in your kitchen for a while and I just wanted to check you were okay.”

He blinks at me, seemingly speechless, then swallows, throat bobbing like a buoy.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay,” he says in a way that makes me think he hasn’t spoken in a long time, voice all tight and unsteady. It also makes me think he’s lying. I wonder if the scepticism shows on my face because he continues. “I’ll, um, I’ll be alright.”

I bite my lip because I don’t know what to say. I’m about to just turn and leave, to stop this whole ridiculous thing I’ve started, when he clears his throat.

“I don’t know. I’m not great.”

I take a deep breath before I reply, ready with what I wanted to say all along, a script already written in my head.

“I’m Ty,” I tell him, “and maybe you don’t know but we kind of got into a routine of making our coffee together, well, kind of together. And I know we never spoke but it was my favourite part of the day and then you stopped and that’s fine, but I wanted you to know how much it meant to me. And that I was really worried you’d died.”

When I glance back at him, he looks like he might cry. He blinks a few times and exhales slowly.

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, coughing a little to clear his throat. “I, uh, I really needed that.”

“Are you okay?” I ask, and he looks at me as if he’s been waiting for someone to ask him that question for years. He leans towards me and starts talking and talking and talking.

“I thought I was doing great, y’know? But a couple weeks back my parents video-called me and they put my sister on - she’s only 3 - and she didn’t even recognise me and started crying and I haven’t even been gone a year but it’s as if I was never even there. Like, I was going to go home, right? I was going to go visit them, and my dad was like ‘we can set up the guest room for you!’ and I was all ‘oh, what about my room?’ and they’ve turned it into a fucking office. Which, like, of course they have because I don’t even live there anymore and it’s not as if they wouldn’t change it back if I told them it bothered me, but it’s like, of course Mina’s gonna forget me if there’s nothing to remind her of me. They were so excited to have me home, so it’s not like they haven’t missed me, and now I’ve messed that up because I don’t want to go back anymore, so I’m making it all worse anyway. But I’m like, I’ve moved all the way out here - all the way from fucking Devon by the way - to get a job, which I can’t even find. So what was the point? I have no money left and even though they’d send me some, no questions, if I asked, I can’t ask because I’d feel guilty and this is all so stupid. My sister is forgetting me and I have nothing to show for being here so why not just move home? But my room’s a fucking office. And all I do is apply for jobs and watch The Good Place. I haven’t left this building in 2 weeks, Ty, and I ran out of coffee like 10 days ago and I’ve cried twice this week because I just want coffee - even though it’s not really about the coffee, clearly - but I can’t drag myself to the store to get a fucking jar of instant fucking coffee.”

He appears to say all of this in one long breath, though I know that can’t be the case. Still, when he finishes, his chest is heaving like he’s just finished running a marathon. He looks flushed and stressed, but also ever-so-slightly relieved. It’s a definite improvement on how he looked before, like he’s set down some great weight. I try to find something to say.

“I have coffee,” I settle on eventually and a tiny glimmer of the guy I remember, who danced along with me so I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be caught, returns to his eyes.

“Kick a guy when he’s down, why don’t you?”

I don’t fully understand what he’s talking about so I laugh in the way you laugh when you haven’t heard what someone says, and say “Would you like to come and have a coffee with me at my place?”

He softens.

“That sounds really, really nice.” He glances down at himself and backs into his apartment. “I’ll change and meet you in the lobby in 5. I cannot believe I opened the door to you looking like this.”

I smile and turn away to start down the hall before he calls my name.

“I’m Kit, by the way. And just so you know, our coffees were the best part of my days too.”

He tucks his head back behind the door and closes it, leaving me standing in the middle of a hallway that is strange but familiar, the perfect reflection of the one outside my own door, hoping that Kit forgets to buy his own instant coffee for a couple more weeks.

#kitty #kit and ty #kit x ty #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #ty and kit #ty x kit #tsc #tda #the dark artifices #cassandra clare #tiberius blackthorn #the shadowhunter chronicles #fanfiction #fanfic #kitty fanfic

[somsesh]

CEPT

It has been a month since Hazel and I wound up our Visual Storytelling course at CEPT. I have been meaning to write about our four-month-long course for quite some time, but the daily stuff kept pushing it to the side. When Hazel called me last year about taking a course together at CEPT, I was a little hesitant to take it up because work on my book had been pending and I had decided to dedicate more time to it. Even Hazel was unsure of it, but we have been talking to each other about taking a course together for so long that letting this opportunity go wasn’t an easy choice. Working as By Two Design, and Perch Project, has been a leap of faith, and for the CEPT course, we decided to do the same. It was daunting to take a four-month-long course, but it was always relieving to know that we were taking this course together. 

Since these kids were not from a graphic design background, taking a strictly typography/illustration course felt like an unfair offering. Hazel and I have always been driven by stories in our work. My work on the graphic novel comes from the urge to tell my story, and Hazel’s Edible Heirloom is her way of preserving heartfelt stories with the goodness of cooking. We use our skills to facilitate the telling of these stories, and at the end of the day, our task is essentially of a storyteller. Stories and articulating them visually felt like something that could sustain the interest of students over a four-month-long period, and also make them see value in it to take it back to their discipline and apply it. We had grand plans, and to kick things off it all had to be put in a seven-minute-long video presentation. The amount of goofing up and fumbling we had to go through to overcome our embarrassment and put this video was a joke in itself. We rehearsed, scripted our words, and slashed the details to their core to get the video out. Thankfully, we managed to get 12 students for our studio. Some opted for it as their first preference, and a few as their seventh preference. Clearly, we had a job at our hand to catch the interest of these kids like you grab a scattered egg yellow out of its white.

One of the warm-up exercises done by the students related to Typography

I won’t go into the week by week detail, but we soon realised that the standards we had set in terms of output were not being met at all. Maybe the pandemic had broken the will of these students to work and persevere, maybe the isolation had taken away any group dynamism you need to make it a healthy exchange of knowledge. Hazel, Shrenee (our very resourceful and helpful TA), and I would keep wondering after every few weeks as to why are we falling short. We did realise that we need to slow down the learning to allow them time to accomplish one task well at least to let the confidence seep in. Teaching if not going well can be a very slippery slope, and if there are no milestones that the teacher or student can see then it becomes a way of being removed. Hazel and I would feel exhausted on many days because of how much mentally you have to stay invested. My plans of working on the book on the side with the studio going on also slowed down heavily because even though you have only classes on alternate days, the day in-between just went into recuperating. This was new for us, and it was new for the kids too, but we didn’t want to give up. There were also many things in terms of the institutional process that came our way as a surprise, and we had to readjust our course structure heavily to buy time for the students to work on their final project. 

Sketches of students while discussing their work over zoom call.

We had offered a mix of beginner’s typography, image-making, illustration, and abstraction techniques to enable the students to visually put together a story belonging to a community that they would reach out to. The idea of a community was very broad because we wanted them to look at people who are bound by a shared experience, and not necessarily look at a community in its traditional sense. At this point, the classes had become offline, so Hazel really helped the students to streamline their process. The last two years have also chained us within our spaces, so reaching out to anyone new was in itself a daunting task for the students. By the end of the last month, our job was mainly to push them to stick to a timeline, work backwards on their deliverable, and direct them to the right references and resources. The very heartening thing to see was the progress being shown in thinking independently of their ideas. When we started, we had to spoon-feed a little to the students, and we detested doing that, so as teachers/educators, our biggest achievement was to see the students taking charge of their work, and ideas, and developing a sense of ownership towards it. The most important value you want to see from a student is to problem-solve their way out of a situation, and when it comes from them then the confidence it provides is unparalleled. 

We ended the course with an exhibition, and while we were relieved, Hazel, Shrenee and I had a degree of pride in how we managed to steer the course. We did have our ups and downs, and there are quite a few things we will do differently if we take the course again, but you live and learn, right?

Tired yet happy faces after wrapping up the course.

Also, there is another small story behind the CEPT course. After passing my twelfth board exams, I was preparing for getting into Design and Architecture colleges. My interest was in animation those days, and architecture came along on the list from a coaching centre I was going to because they offered preparatory exercises that covered NID and CEPT. CEPT was the premier institute to get into. If you are not a Gujrati and fell into the General category, then you had to get a rank in the top five in their entrance test to have a chance of being a CEPT student. I had given NID exams earlier that year with no coaching or guidance, and I couldn’t clear the written tests. I had been attending the coaching in Delhi for a month before CEPT exams were due. I had gotten into Srishti by the time the CEPT exams came up. I was debating in my head whether to go ahead in Design or try Architecture. I was staying at my cousin’s place in Ahmedabad for the test days. My cousin had studied exhibition design at NID, so seeking his opinion was natural in my career choices. As an elder cousin, he was guarded about my choice to not pursue a more mainstream career choice. Maybe he was all too familiar with the struggle waiting ahead, but he suggested that I stick to Design if Animation is what fascinates me. I still went for the first day of the entrance test at CEPT. The campus was huge, and it did seem like an architecture college with its exposed walls and monolithic shapes. I had the Interior Design exam on day one, and in my head, I could see myself withdrawing already from the test. It was summer with heat waves outside, and my cousin was going to Mount Abu for a few days. I didn’t know what came over me, but I decided to not appear for the rest of the exams and went to Abu instead. I went to Bangalore and joined Srishti, didn’t end up studying Animation (my interests had moved towards Graphic Design and Illustration), but somewhere it always did prick me a little that I didn’t appear and get into one of the best colleges for architecture in India. I think it nagged me more back then because I had just come out of a very competitive environment, and the thing with such spaces is that it blinds you from seeing what you want to do. All you see is the merit list, no matter if the list is the one you should be actually on. So after all these years, when the opportunity to teach at CEPT came in, in some way it was redemptive for me to go to the same institute where I didn’t appear for the entrance test. 

#teachingdesign #teaching #CEPT #designeducation #Youtube

[mygainyear2024]

Day 31 Carvoeira - the little Santorini of Portugal (but first, side tracked by a pay it forward Mumma moment...)

Rosie and I planned a trip to Carvoeira today to include a long walk. We decided to head off around lunch time, when the weather got a bit warmer, Uber/Bolt there, see the sites, eat lunch and then take that long walk. I was hopeful we'd get as far as Ferragudo (about one hour 40) as I've had on my list the Dom Rodrigo gelato recommended by the tile painting teacher. I walked to Rosie's apartment, running late as I was down a rabbit hole finding a day trip to Tavira, close to the Spanish border (where I wanted to drive to after Rio Formosa Natural Park, but that seemed a little too far for me).

While I'm waiting for Rosie, and looking up ride share prices, I was mildly distracted by some yelling. I thought it was a mother yelling at a child. She moved on, then I saw another woman looking lost. She was being oggled by old dudes walking past, I think it was her skimpy bikini and crocheted see through dress. She then disappeared and the first woman walks past Rosie and I looking lost too and on the phone sounding frustrated (trying to find her accommodation), she bursts into tears. Well, a mother/social worker and a great grandmother/life coach couldn't help themselves. We are right in there. "Are you ok?" "No, I've got my period and I'm lost and (more tears)" So long story short, the two friends just arrived from the UK into Faro, caught a taxi from Faro airport (about an hour) for this huge music festival (DnB Allstars) that is on this weekend and they were dropped off at an address and couldn't get in. They continued to ring the owner of the apartment and he kept telling them it wasn't the right place. They both had oversized suitcases for the week, and cheap ones, which were scraping on the ground and toppling over from the uneven distribution of the goods inside. Exactly what I have done in the past, several times over! At one point I did say to the second young woman, with very good intentions, maybe you could ask Mum and Dad to buy you a better suitcase for Christmas!

It took us over one hour to find Condominio Oásis Mar lote 2, bloco B, 1B! And in the end it was a 5 minute walk from Rosie's apartment, we went to the wrong building according to my own google search, then to lote 1 and all those blocos and then walked up the hill and around. We finally found the place. The one they had originally been taken to. They'd gotten through the front gates with the code, found bloco B, but instead of 1B, they were on Ground B!!

We gave them a lot of hugs, strongly suggested they settle in and go get some drinks and make up. I used a Ben Crowe quote on each of them, something like "what's the kindest interpretation you can have of your friend right now"!

After all that, we ended up back at Rosie's apartment for a loo stop, in the Bolt and on our way. What Rosie didn't realise until she got back to her apartment after 7pm was that she'd locked herself out! She was so exhausted, sat in the hallway and waited over 30 minutes for someone to let her in. I did offer to go sit with her or have her come back to my apartment with the lure of rosé. I think she'll be glad to see me depart on Sunday. She keeps saying don't you ever stop LOL!

Carvoeira seemed like a great spot. Lots of restaurants, shops, white washed buildings, sheltered beach - except it was bloody cold today.

We were so hungry by the time we got there, we headed to one of the two spots I'd sourced, Earth Shop & Café. I really liked the food, but the service was super slow. This late in the day all we could manage was to browse some shops, do the short boardwalk, take respite at a cool bar for more drinks and Bolt back.

With about an hour to go before sunset, I decided to head off to the beach to see what was happening crowd wise and concert wise. No concert space has been set up yet and the beach was pretty deserted. Stay tuned.

[kenovele]

Bogs Blog 51

This has been an eventful period for us. Benoit with his self-exploration, festivals and watermelon farming and myself, in my own type of self-exploration but in the shape of a new job. My job has been something that I have debated over for the last part of 2023 and it is something that Benoit and I had both discussed in detail, from what my career goals are to how it will affect us as a couple. My days now consist of very early starts, I get up at 5.20am, do my 30 minutes of exercise while Benoit wakes up and then slowly gets himself ready to make us a coffee. We spend ten or so minutes together each morning, just appreciating the time we have together and chatting about life. We quickly came to the realisation that our life with my new job is considerately more separate. So, our early morning coffees together are definitely something that I look forward to and something that helps us feel more connected. I leave home, generally around 6.30am, and head to the train. I have decided to make the train my creative outlet and so I spend my mornings and afternoons getting a good hour of crochet in. It is great for getting some serious headway on my projects, I have so far completed a pair of shorts for my brother and a winter vest for myself, I am currently working on a summer dress.. we will see how that goes. But making the commute a time where I can do something for myself rather than just sit mindlessly in traffic is definitely something that I feel is beneficial to my mental health. It also means that each evening, I feel like I have had some me time and can focus on Benoit and our things that we need to do together.

Work is a ten-minute walk from the train station and I really appreciate the time spent walking to and from work, it keeps me a bit active despite my now very static lifestyle. The actual work itself is very stimulating, it is difficult, but I am enjoying the learning process, the pace is fast, and the jobs are complex, but after thinking about this change for so long, I am happy with how it has turned out. The challenge is something that I wanted, and I truly think that I have found it at Initia. At least for the moment. The commute home is something I am doing my best to stay strict on, it is quite easy to slip into the habit of staying late at work as there is always plenty to do, (and everyone stays late at work, although I do arrive the earliest) but I am doing my best to leave at 5pm every day and not get home later than I already do. Today is the first time I have taken my laptop with me on the train (to write bogs blog) but I am thinking it could be a good compromise for leaving at 5pm, but getting an additional hour of work done on the train. Time will tell, this period is especially busy as we have short weeks for easter, so everyone is feeling the heat greater than usual!

I generally get home between 6.30-7pm, I am lucky that Benoit currently gets home earlier than me and has usually got dinner prepared by the time I get home, all I need to do is get changed into my comfortable clothes and we can have dinner together. This is definitely not something that I take lightly, the mental load that he has taken off me by being home and being able to get to things on the list that I can’t get to has helped enormously. He has really picked up all the slack that I have left whilst adjusting to this new routine. We have dropped our climbing membership at the moment, but slowly we are getting back into a few extra curricular activities. We are trying to play tennis at least twice a week and be active in the weekends to make up for it, as sport is definitely a big thing that I miss. Luckily Benoit has a physical job and so isn’t feeling the drawbacks of not doing our favourite activities too greatly.

Speaking of the weekends, last weekend was my 28th birthday, it was a great weekend and I felt extremely blessed. We had a brunch with Mum and Dad and Gran and Deeda in the morning before Mum and Dad headed to the lake for the weekend, then Benoit and I went into town and hit the second-hand shops. I was looking for a blazer and Benoit for some new pairs of pants and we were both successful and went home with big smiles for a fraction of the price. Benoit wonders if he will ever buy anything in shops for full price again when you can find such good bargains in second hand shops with a little bit of hunting, it is a rewarding experience. Although I think he has once again stocked up on the items that were getting a little bit too worn, so it may have been the last second-hand shop that we do for a while! After our shopping, we then headed home and spent the afternoon with my brother preparing for our dinner party with Jo and Nico. As per my new favourite tradition, I asked for the typical liege dish of meatballs and chips, apple sauce and mayonnaise, and as per, I was not disappointed, we had a delicious meal, and I could not have asked for better company. We had an impromptu cowboy theme, complete with country music and spent the whole evening and into the early hours of the morning dancing. I went to sleep just before my normal wake up alarm with a big smile, I was overly spoilt and spent the evening with my favourite humans, what more could I have asked for. Overwhelmingly feeling loved is a great feeling and I have been feeling that a lot recently. In general, it has been a really good summer, as daylight saving is quickly approaching, I hope our winter is just as successful!

All my love, Kate

[phorbb]

I havent been here for a while, but im going through a really tough period in my life.

My grandad is a man i see consistently in my life, he lives directly behind my house, we even have a gate at the back of both our gardens connecting the two. Recently my grandad has fallen very ill, multiple things along with his 4th or so time struggling with Covid. My grandad is a strong man who i have idolised most of my life if not all, hes a stubborn man who never tells me he loves us but will tell me subtly with his actions and what he says, things like “you are a good conversationist” “youll have to teach me to sleep like you” and such, always listening and asking about me and the rest of my siblings.

My mum is his full time carer essentially so with him falling ill and being in a hospital bed we thought it would be his usual since he normally goes due to falls and such, but this time, this time is so different, ive had to visit and pray and mourn a man who isnt even dead yet and its scary, scary that it might really be the end of such a beautiful life. I pray for the best and for his uplifting, i miss hearing him ask about me, i miss going to the pub and sitting with him and him asking if i wanted a drink, i wish id said yes more often.

Seeing him in that state broke my heart, so helpless, barely breathing and mumbling. Im used to hearing him talk to me and ask me what im up to, im used to him making fun of how much i sleep in now hes sleeping more than me ironically. I visited him today and made that joke and he laughed, after how out of it hes been, hearing him laugh took a weight off my shoulders i didnt even know was there.

Its been so hard on all of us, my older sister spends day and night at the hospital refusing to eat because she feels sick , refusing to leave incase something happens when she does.

I just want my grandad to come home, i just want him to finally get me that drink, so i can get him one too.

I really hope hes ok, ive havent lost a close family member in a while, but this is different, id see him every other day, im not ready for this chapter to end , im not ready. I dont think ill ever be, i just cant imagine how scared or in pain he is, the only clear sentence he gets out is

“I want to go home”

I want him home too, he deserves to pass at home in his signature chair, not in a hospital bed, and i hope he gets that comfort if this really is his last couple of weeks or even days, i pray for the best. Please pray with me if youd like. For all people who have lost loved ones.

It makes me realise we must appreciate the people in our lives we love because we never know when they will be taken from us.

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! I haven't taken photos during regular walks because the heat has been unbearable; that was until I lifted my head and was greeted by a gorgeous swathe of vibrant green. There were others also walking along the pavements or cycling, a nod to our nation's call to prepare for healthy aging. Whether it's grandparents pushing their grandkids in prams or adults on their bicycles, people are being more active and that's great. Plus, it feels good to be out in the sun for short periods, even if the weather is so bloody hot right now.

I'm usually on the lookout for healthier dining options for Pa, so we visited a little diner which serves unpolished rice teng zai juk (sampan congee with lean pork, cuttlefish and peanuts). I added fish slices to our bowls, plus Thai style tofu and dou miao (pea sprouts) for us to share. This congee was surprisingly good and the only way I'll eat whole grains; I find it much more palatable because it's moist. More importantly, Pa and I enjoyed a healthy meal together and strengthened father and daughter bonds. To wash all that down: freshly squeezed pineapple, green apple and lemon juice without added sugar.

WL and I caught up over unagi and anago and he fell so much in love with the tenderness of both types of fish, he announced his intention to visit again within a week! We also tried the restaurant's sashimi and OMG the thick slabs of ika were delicious. The chutoro, salmon and hotate were also very yummy. There're several more catch ups lined up because I'm taking a much-needed break and doing stuff I previously didn't have the time nor mental energy for. It's been fun so far and I'm enjoying every minute!

Tofu, whether firm or soft, as well as fu pi (tofu skin), are delicious and I happily eat them, and I don't mind tempeh once in awhile. But man, I don't like the starchy texture of legumes and lentils; no matter how wellness posts shove these nasty things down my throat, I won't eat them. They're similar to wholegrains to me - disgusting unless they're made to taste decent. Recently I came across a low sodium chickpea pack, tried it, didn't mind it and bought another pack for Pa to try. They're not yummy enough for me to eat as part of a main meal like tofu or fu pi, but as a snack, I certainly am able to down a handful at a time.

Pa used to press me to eat more legumes and lentils (yuck forever) but now he realises it's far more rewarding to reach a compromise rather than see me miserable eating what I hate. On my part, I WILL eat stuff I normally won't IF it's palatable. From there, we find common ground and bond because healthy and delicious foods are always a pleasure to talk about. This is win win and it improves family ties. 下次见!

#Youtube

[sankdvl]

A little secret

Remember that i told you how i have always been very pationate and ambitious about what i do and how much i want to succeed in life, yeah, that may not be completely accurate.

Since i was a little kid to probably the first semester of tenth grade i had only dreamt about being successful, rich, independent, living in my own luxurious apartment somewhere in new york and working in a fast moving job

and then suddenly i don't know what happened from the second semester of 10th grade. i guess that reality hit me. i wasn't sure what i was doing and why i was doing, i was infact overwhelmed with assignments, exams, tests, pending work etc. i experienced a whole wave of uncertainty and anxiety whether i would be able to score good in my board examinations or not. I, my school, a few friends that i have, my parents, my relatives etc had so much expectations from me. i feared failing to live upto their and most importantly my expectations. suddenly i was being too harsh on myself. i was experiencing emotions that i had never felt before, i was very sad, i forgot eating my meals, sometimes i would go two days without eating anything, waking up seemed so hard suddenly, i felt disappointed, i would wake up crying and go to sleep crying. i don't know what happened, from a happy ambitious kid who knew what she was doing i was transformed into someone who just did not want to live anymore, i did not want to die because i had many responsibilities and many people who lovde me and i did not want to hurt them, but i wished i had never been born or somehow i could disappear from this world. nothing seemed real at that time. my depression lasted from october 2022 to march 2023. those were the most painful six months i had ever gone through

then my board exams were over and i was filled with relief. In the first week after my boards i was trying to adjust back to normal, i was trying to get out of depression, trying to sleep stress free. it was difficult to get out of the phase because i would have nightmares about me failing my exams, i felt guilty for not studying anymore even though my exams were over, i would wake up in the middle of the night thinking that my exams are not over yet and i was hallucinating about my exams getting over, i would suddenly wake up in the morning, panicking that i had to this or that chapter of mathematics etc. it took me around a week to accept the fact that my exams are over and that i can return to the normal lifestyle i had before 10th grade

Then came the honeymoon period. i was happy, i finally started getting back on my normal life, i was sleeping comfortably, eating, watching tv, cooking my favourite dishes, motivated to have a fresh start from grade 11, i felt that i could do anything. and as you would have guessed, thats when i wrote my first blog 'a little context'

But the again i from week three i realised that i was feeling the same emotions that i was feeling in oct 2022, all my friends had taken PCM or PCB and had already started coaching, they were all so busy while i was lying in my bed not understanding commerce, i tried studying commerce but everything seemed so new, foreign and difficult, i started questioning if commerce is right for me. then i started thinking about the things i had thought about doing after boards that i hadn't done, like learning French, learing how to code, and the we cancelled on our plan of getting a dog which really made me very upset, i felt that i had wasted my time. again i started losing interest in things. i was constantly thinking whether i could again become the happy ambitious person that i was before, i was scared about my result. i was going through the same process that led me to get into depression, i started sleeping till noon, lost faith in me, stopped eating because i wasn't getting hungry, i started crying, losing hope etc. But this time luckily i knew where my habits and feelings were headed so i am trying my best to not fall into the trap of depression again, i am making little progress day by day like instead of waking up at noon i am waking up at 10am, i appeciate myself even if i eat one meal a day because it is better than not eating anything at all etc, although i know i am going through a very scary and vulnerable time, i am trying to be easy on myself and assuring myself that there is still hope and at the end everything will be alright and its just a little dark phase that's going to pass soon and that i am not a failure and that can still achieve what little me wanted to achieve

#self help #academia

[marlasomething]

Cocoa Collabs Extra 3: It’s the Hitmen’s Life (Opposite Day)

Hi! Marla here ready to do another “challenge”. This time: @cocoa-collabs 2022 with superminifics! The idea is to do both the extra props and the daily ones, making at least one a day being an Amelia Caller. Not this one, though, this one is a story with some of this messed-up yet so dear to me characters! This podcast is a great source of inspiration for me and also a comfort, safe place and I am so glad to be participating on it… So, just please, forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes and, leave a message (comment, kudos, random feedback) after the fic.

Allons-y! Marla

Also on AO3!

Alvina complained a lot about being taken for granted in some of her task, with all the reason on the World. How could people (and, maybe, people were just a certain individual, who’s to say?!) not realise all the work she put into her job?!

However, Alvina was, after all, still human (no matter most of other humans would faint at the mere thought of doing half of the work she did on a daily basis), so she could easily made the same mistake.

As she once did, when Joey and Salvatore, also tired of not being respected in the only art they were crafty at, changed places after a pact they made one evening.

It was going to be a fun evening.

First of all, it was the tea. Salvatore’s secret talent: to make the perfect tea. For Joey…it was more a question of how long a period shall he put in the microwave.

Alvina almost chocked and, perhaps, screamed a bit too loud to both her co-workers, genuinely upset about the whole tea-situation.

She really needed that tea.

They shrugged and she muttered something about the nonsense of having their hitmen doing the tea when they had helped disappear a former Starbucks barista a couple of weeks ago.

 Then, it was the turn of Joey’s art: cleaning windows (that is, in all earnestly, one of the hardest house tasks imaginable).

The windows remained so stained for so long Amelia started to fear going nearby with her smaller metallic birds.

 Finally, one day, as Alvina complained about what was the point of now being in Paris is she couldn’t even see some of its beautiful rooftops from her now non-existent window.

She spit the…thirteenth (?) terrible tea of the week and called both Joey and Salvatore in, both entering with a triumphant smirk on their faces.

“So, why did you two boicoted us?”

“We just changed places, so you learn to appreciate our craft” Alvina’s definition of craft might have been ever so slightly different, but she decided to buy it.

After all, apparently, Joey and Salvatore were even more useful that she already gave them plenty of credit for.

#cocoacollabs2022 #cocoa collabs #the amelia project #fanfic #fic #minific #writing #alvina (the amelia podcast) #joey (the amelia podcast) #salvatore (the amelia podcast) #opposite day

[firespirited]

I gave the heads up to mum that I'd brought up the touchy subject of missing memories with sis and how I hadn't wanted to catalogue any of it, other than taking note that she's in pain (wondering if i made it worse) and maybe that subject is something that i need to work on (cue deep dives and extensive personal re-examination) because she's a grown woman who's asked for independence in all things medical and got *herself* a therapist. I contribute when she has clues for me ("1st day of period or minipill withdrawal = very dark time" led to pmdd or pme. Two years ago I realised that her insomnia meant she was constantly stopping and starting a medicine cold turkey when it's one that requires slow uppage/downage - we've had to taper down over 18 months to get to a half dose) so there is a certain amount of collab work as she knows me well too and can better remember how long I've had this stupid earache for example. I was able to say that I do not want to be backed up if sis needs mum on her side, I don't care about being right and can cope with being hurt as it's an expression of anguish what matters is that we help her pinpoint whatever's causing this so she can choose how to proceed. I might need help with dates and times though as my memory is swiss cheese. Ultimately i'd rather drop it entirely if it's a sticking point, it doesn't happen often anyway... so she can focus on other symptoms of hormonal inbalance.

Finding the balance is hard but getting better between wanting to protect my (not so little anymore) sister from everything and respect her autonomy... I trust her and asked if she wanted to know first and that any notes taken would be available because it's a diagnostic tool nothing more.

Mum's like "yes she's in pain and that's the sole issue so i try to ignore anything that seemed out of character as just meaningless self defense 'make it stop' words." (man alive, I wish i could attain that level of chill) and she goes "Oh and i have plenty of recorded timestamped moments as she has those paranoid arguments with me on WhatsApp." 👀 hokay. Of Note: i mentioned to mum that sept to nov 2021 i vague posted a lot and apparently that when sis was off the pill.

So yeah i got myself all worked up for both conversations and both went fine. We won't mention so much as mood swings unless it aligns with the dates and sis *wants* to mention it.

And after my benzo/ssri withdrawal after surgery where I became utterly convinced mum hated me and basically got a taxi driver to sneak me out of hospital and lately my very rude troglodyte grunts to 'get out, get lost' when I get sleep deprived, they've promised to always keep me fully accountable too.

Today's dr visit is going to be interesting, the ultrasound dude last week refused to scan sis' lipedema which insults both the endocrinologist and our doctor who prescribed it together. The tech hinted there's some sort of drama going on between the local xray, ultrasound clinic techs and the local doctors. Our dr is tuned in to all the feuds, she'll tell you to remove prof Ys papers from your file before showing it to prof X because he has beef with prof Y (usually some old funding or tenure grudge)

#saf #Personal #I'm so grateful

[myhoneststudyblr]

my masterpost | my studygram | ask me anything

[click images for high quality]

[transcript under the cut]

Other advice posts that may be of interest:

How To Study When You Really Don’t Want To

Active Revision Techniques

How To Do Uni Readings

How to Revise BIG Subjects

Common Study Mistakes

Do you have trouble staying focused?

Do you sometimes realise that your mind is wandering only 10 or 15 minutes after sitting down to work?

Do you often read the same page repeatedly without remembering any of it?

Try these strategies to monitor and improve your concentration.

Strategy #1: Take breaks

Humans aren't actually that great at working for really long periods of time and our brain needs rest. So it is really important to remember to take breaks.

When you begin to feel your mind wander and get tired, take a short break. If you know that your concentration span is short, try using the Pomodoro technique!  

The Pomodoro Technique:

Decide on the task to be done

Set a timer for 25 minutes

Work on the task until the timer ends

Take a short 5 minute break

Repeat 4 times and then take a longer 15-30 minute break

Ideas for Breaks:

Do some stretches

Get a snack or a drink

Go for a walk and get some fresh air

Watch an episode of your favourite show or a youtube video

Tidy your desk/room

Strategy #2: Plan your work to maximise concentration

If you have a long stretch of time to study, alternate studying for different courses. For example: if you have three hours to study, spend one hour on each of three different subjects. this way your mind gets variety!

If possible, alternate your study methods. For example: spend one hour reading, the next hour doing math problems and the final hour writing out some notes.

Do your most difficult tasks during *your* best time of day. Your body has natural highs and lows of energy concentration and motivation levels. Figure what these times are for you. Save shopping, housework or fitness activities for times when you're normally tired.

Strategy #3: Use study methods that enhance concentration

Absorbing large amounts of information for long stretches of time can be difficult. Try some of these effective study strategies to help maintain your concentration: 

Verbalise the information instead of reading silently to increase sensory input to the brain: read, write, recite

Teach the material to someone else. This helps you learn it  as well as helping you find weaker areas of understanding

When reading, use techniques such as SQ4R to help you keep focused and improve your retention of information

Make sure to use active revision techniques that will keep you engaged, such as practice questions and flashcards 

Strategy #4: Understand the Health-Concentration Connection

Your physical well-being can affect your concentration.  There can be lots of lifestyle things that are an unsuspected cause of concentration difficulties, such as:

Irregular sleep

(Lack of) Exercise

Eating patterns

Find a regimen that works for you and stick to it to help maintain your brain at its physiological peak.

Knowing how medications might affect your concentration is also important and needs to be taken into consideration when planning work.

Many mental health issues can also affect your concentration and most schools and universities offer various services to support you with this. It is important to make sure that you seek help when you need it.

Strategy #5: Deal with Physical Comfort

Writing Comfort: Your chair should be comfortable with good back support, but not so comfortable that it encourages napping. To help with posture, try raising your laptop/desktop so it is directly in your eye line. Try a keyboard tray to place your keyboard low enough that you don't need to raise your forearms to reach it (this helps avoid carpal tunnel syndrome).

Lighting: Proper lighting is essential to minimise eye strain and fatigue. Make sure you have good ambient lighting (general room lighting, like the ceiling light) because it is particularly hard on your eyes if you work in a dark room with only a desk light or the computer on. Try using a good desk lamp for reading or writing.

Temperature: The temperature should be warm enough that your hands and feet don't get cold, but not so warm that the room gets stuffy and you get sleepy. Layers can be good to control your body temperature as they are easy to get on and off, and will help regulate if you have unreliable heating. 

Strategy #6: Deal with distracting thoughts

There are lots of different ways that you can deal with distracting thoughts - find one that works for you. Here are two possible techniques:

Before: Mind Dump

Before a study session, set a timer for 5 minutes, take a pen and paper, and then write every thought that comes into your head - don't worry about it making sense or being neat. With an empty brain, you can focus on new things, instead of constantly dwelling on past things taking up valuable bandwidth

During: Designate a later time

Reduce the amount of time your mind spends wandering by designating a time to think about a problem. When you notice that you're not concentrating, say to yourself, "I'll think about that at 4 o'clock." Then, at 4 o'clock or whatever time you choose, sit down and think through whatever is bothering you.

Strategy #7: Refocus with the checkmark technique

Keep a piece of paper beside you as you're studying. Whenever you notice that your mind has wandered, put a checkmark on the paper and get back to work.

Making the checkmark is a simple way to help you refocus on your task because the mere act of doing this reminds you to get back to work.

Reviewing the checkmarks can help you determine the time of day when you concentrate the best and show you whether your concentration is improving.

Students report that when they first try this system, they accumulated as many as twenty checkmarks per textbook page. After a couple of weeks, they were down to one or two checkmarks per page. It's therefore a great way to train your brain and see a difference.

#7 strategies to improve concentration #myhoneststudyblr #studyblr #heypat #heycoral #bulletnotestudies #heycazz #heyharri #jeonchemstudy #stillstudies #studylustre #studyvan #stuhde #sonderstudy #serendistudy #problematicprocrastinator #medustudies #gloomstudy #boldlystudy #academiix #philologystudies #idiotacademia #my advice

[heecyon]

Enhypen Little Angels Series: When they find out their s/o is pregnant

warnings: cursing, mentions of miscarriage and hospitals, collapsing, vomiting and couvade syndrome (for Sunghoon and Sunoo)

this happens before the og enha little angels

taglist: @skyaura-koo @serendipityclick @en-sun @envirae @exulansis-eun @gamezzzz

Pls tell me if I forgot anyone from the taglist and I'll fix it immediately.

I'll try to fix any grammar mistakes. Sorry for the delay

word count: 1,523 words

Lee Heeseung:

“Heeseung... What if i'm really pregnant?” Mina said bouncing on her feet.

Being nervous wasn't the words that she would use to describe how she feeling at the moment.

“If you are pregnant, then that means that our child will have the most amazing mother and the most amazing father.” He set his hands around Mina's waist, then accommodated his head on her shoulder.

“I'm not talking about that.” She sighed, looking at the ring on her finger.

“You mean... the loss?” Mina nodded, her gaze was sad and her eyes were glossy.

“It wasn't your fault jagi, and I know that you fear that the same thing will happen again, but I promise you that everything will turn out for good.” Heeseung placed a soft kiss on his wife's lips, then unified his forehead with hers.

“I think... I'll go check the test.” Mina said before placing a kiss in Heeseung's cheek and going to the bathroom to see the results.

He waited a few seconds and then...

“Heeseung, I'm actually pregnant!”

Park Jongseong

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine?” Bella said looking at IV hooked on her hand.

Jay kept walking around the hospital room, he was a little bit mad, he thought that Bella hadn't taken care of herself as he told her to.

“As many times as you want, because it's not gonna work for me, or make me feel better.” He kept pacing around back and forth, trying to keep himself calm.

“If you keep rambling nothing will be solved.” Jay huffed, as he pinched the skin of his left arm.

“And if you keep dismissing your health nothing will get solved!”

Bella groaned, sometimes Jay could be way to stubborn.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I've been taking care of myself.” She pouted.

“It doesn't seem like that to me.”

Just in time the doctor appeared on the room.

“What is it doctor? Is she healthy?” She smiled at Jay and then at Bella.

“Well, there isn't any problem... Except that you have high levels of HCG.”

They both looked at the doctor completely confused.

“This high level of HCG only appears on pregnancy. Congratulations, you are pregnant.”

If they were confused before then, I don't know how to describe how they felt by the moment.

“Huh?!”

Shim Jaeyun

“Do you think is something bad?”

Jake shook his head, while looking around the doctor's office. He was way more anxious than what he showed, but he tried his best to stay calm for Teagan.

It had been days since Teagan started vomiting and having nausea, to the point that she spent most days locked in the bathroom and nearly fell down the stairs because of how dizzy she felt.

“I'm done! I'm taking you to the doctors!”

Teagan looked at him dumbfounded. Why did he wanted to take her to the doctors so suddenly.

“But I feel fine.”

“Being fine is not nearly falling down the stairs because of dizziness.”

Teagan hated hospitals with all her might, and always tried everything to avoid them, but guess who still drag her to the hospital? Jake!

The doctor finally entered the office, making the couple turn their gaze to him.

He gave them a small smile, before saying:

“I already have your lab results...”

Jake grabbed his wife's hand, trying to calm himself down a little and also reassuring her that everything will be okay.

In the best case he thought you had a stomach bug. In the worst case you could some kind of terminal illness.

... But gladly those weren't the cases.

“It seems like you have high levels of human chorionic gonadotropin.” Teagan looked at the doctor with a dumbfounded gaze.

“What those that mean?” Teagan looked at the doctor and then looked at Jake who was in shock, but then spoke.

“It means... that you are pregnant.”

Park Sunghoon

... It started when Sunghoon started having symptoms. Hyeyoung noticed how tired Sunghoon was does days and how he started having cravings... A lot of cravings.

“And can you please add an extra order of fries please?” “Thank you.”

He hanged up on the call while Hyeyoung looked at him weirded out.

“You sure you are okay?” She walked up to him, seating beside him on the sofa.

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?”

“Well... because you are acting like a pregnant woman.”

Sunghoon giggled a little, before he realised that...

“Hyeyoung? When was the last time that you had your period?” The girl looked down for moment, and then she finally realised what was going on.

Now they were both looking at the positive pregnancy on their hands.

“Oh shit!”

“OH HOLY SHIT!”

Kim Sunoo

Another case of couvade syndrome...

“Ah! Noona! Sunoo-Hyung just fainted!” Aera ran to the studio and saw the boys fanning Sunoo to make him feel better.

Sunno saw Aera's worried expression and then smiled at her to ease her up.

“I'm fine jagiya. I'm just tired.” He stood up with the help of his oldest members.

He walked up to Aera, who changed her expression suddenly, she started feeling way to dizzy and all off the sudden she lost her balance and collapse on Sunoo's.

The rest of the members started shouting worriedly and asked the staff to call medical help.

“I guess we have the same condition or something.” Sunoo spoke when they where both in the doctors office waiting for both of their results.

“It's probably the flu, or a cold is kicking our butts.” Aera chucked and Sunoo giggled a little.

The doctor entered the room, with the results on his hands.

“Well it seems like Sunoo is pretty healthy and there is no reason for your collapse, except that you have couvade syndrome.” He frowned at the doctors words wanting a clear explanation.

“It's when a partner presents the same symptoms as their pregnant partner.” Aera was the one frowning at that moment. Was the doctor saying what she thought he was saying?

“I'm sorry, but my wife is not...”

“The fuck?! She's pregnant?!”

Yang Jungwon

This boy rushed to the hospital the moment that he got a call from her mom, saying that Mirae had fallen down the stairs.

He freaked out, but when he got there Mirae explained him that she had blacked out and that made her fall down three steps of stairs.

“Are you sure you don't feel pain or anything?” Jungwon played with her hair, while he sat on her hospital bed.

“Wonie, I'm fine, it's just a small bruise”

“And a concussion.” Mirae's mother blurted that out of nowhere. Which made the girl murmured a "Mom" angrily.

“Ah! I guess I'll stay up with you all night.” He said rubbing her shoulders.

“I also have something else to tell you...” She grabbed a strand of hair and started playing with it.

“Hmm?” Jungwon payed all his attention ontu her.

“The doctor did a few tests... Everything's okay, but...” She passed and stayed quiet for while.

“What's wrong Rae, you can tell me anything, remember?” Jungwon smiled showing his cute dimples.

Mirae sighed, inhaled... Then exhaled.

“I'm pregnant.”

Jungwon seemed in shock by what she had just blurted out, but then started laughing immediately.

He was happy, obviously he was... But then he paused.

“When did I made you a baby?”

Nishimura Riki

They where both visiting Niki's parents in Japan, they where on vacations so they used that to pay a visit to them.

Mei Lin wasn't feeling that good throughout the whole way to her in laws house, she felt like throwing up the ride in the plane, but she thought it was just motion sickness.

“You sure you are okay? If you don't feel well enough, we can stay at the hotel and go tomorrow.” Niki wasn't that sure of what to do at the moment, but he thought it would pass in a few hours.

“No, I think I still feel bad because of the flight, but it'll pass in a few minutes, I promise.” She said patting Niki's head before calling over a taxi.

They got home pretty fast and had dinner. They were both enjoying their time, but something about the food just made Mei feel nauseated. So she covered her mouth and nose with her left hand.

The family noticed pretty fast and Niki's sister was already looking for a pill to calm Mei's stomach down.

While Niki was rubbing her back, his mother commented.

“You know, this reminds me of the symptoms I had when I had a few weeks of pregnancy with Riki.” She laughed it off, but something about just made the rest of the family including Mei freeze.

“I think... I'll just go get a pregnancy test.”

Everybody's eyes widened and the thought of their daughter in law being pregnant was kinda shocking.

An hour later, a positive pregnacy test was on the couple's hands.

Niki and Mei were both in complete shock, they were happy of course... But still shocked.

“I wasn't expecting you guys to take me seriously when I said «I want grandchildren as soon as possible.»”

#enhypenwriters #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #enhypen ot7 #jay enhypen #sunghoon enhypen #jungwon enhypen #heeseung enhypen #jake enhypen #niki enhypen #sunoo enhypen

[honeyhenry]

Tiny Vol. 2: Kal + Will

you can read the first instalment of Tiny here!

A/N: I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! All the love for our sweet bear and Henry of course! And baby Will my new fave 😍

Warnings: Premature labour, a LOT of fluff 

as a family of three, you, Henry and Kal were the dream team

Kal had of course taken to you the moment you’d met him

a lot of the time Henry claimed you were more loving towards the big bear than him; “I’m your actual boyfriend, remember?”

Kal naturally being part of your inevitable wedding

hell, he was likely part of the proposal, as role of The Distractor, while Henry would wait on bended knee behind you

Kal knew that he didn’t have a place on the big kingsize bed, but that never stopped him from standing by the closed door of the bedroom whenever you and Henry were occupying it, waiting for either an invitation for cuddles, or for your day to start so he could have some company

and any available snacks, of course

On Henry’s birthday, just over a year into your marriage, you’d bribed the Akita with an extra large prime rib steak in the kitchen so that he could stay content downstairs, while you kept Henry more than content upstairs

It was only 3 weeks later that Kal started to press his large head onto your stomach

at first it was endearing, but over time he became persistent and Henry often had to get him to heel so that he would keep out of your way

it was only one missed period later that you realised your fluffy companion might have been onto something

with a fairly tame schedule for now, you and Henry had stopped “not trying” for a baby, deciding instead to just let it happen when it happened

and somehow Kal had been the first to find out that it had indeed, happened

over the next few weeks and months, it wasn’t just your large, concerned husband that was protective over you, but your bear of a dog too

by the time you were showing, Kal was in full guard dog form, growling at anyone who expressed any form of interest towards your growing belly

even Henry was on the receiving end of a warning growl now and then

but most of the time, Kal knew that Henry was likely safe, based on the look of love he often saw on his owner’s face towards you, and the special little moments his two humans have together with whatever is blooming within you

any strangers that get close to you would face the wrath of Kal because if whatever is happening gets this much love and attention, then it must be special to his Henry and his Mama

Kal hangs around you a lot, favouring you over Henry, especially in your last trimester

which makes Henry pout because damn it, Kal is taking his place most of the time

“Only because i’m carrying a little you.” you’d reassure your husband “he’ll be back to his Henry-loving ways after baby’s born.”

Kal often lays his big head on your bump when Henry isn’t there because he knows you’ll let him get away with it

but if Henry spots him he receives a “Kal, off!” just for your goofy husband to rest his own head there instead, chattering to the baby about things that sometimes have you falling asleep

his voice is soothing, yes

but his video game talk is just the perfect soundtrack for a nap

you get slower and slower as you enter the last few months

soon its just Kal and Henry going for walks together at the park

your bear always whined to you, pawing at your lap as you curl up on the sofa, while Henry would attempt to nod him over to the door

“Mumma can’t come today, she’s staying here with the baby. But she’ll call us if anything happens”

You get a soft kiss on the lips from one member of your family, and a lick on the hand from the fluffier one

Did you know it was Kal who saved the day, the morning you went into early labour?

you’d winced at a small twinge of pain, and then groaned out loud, taken by surprise as you had just been peeling some apples to be made into a stew

the sun was rising slowly, glinting the dewy grass out in the garden, your favourite view from the kitchen window

Henry was in his study, a floor up, with headphones on, completely oblivious to what was happening downstairs 

clinging to a table, you’d started to feel tight pain across your belly, issuing you with a mild dose of panic

of course, as Kal has been by your side for the past few months, he’s right there in an instant

he rushes over to you, sensing that something is wrong, watching you as you attempt to sit down on the floor to try and take control of the pain

he had pressed his big head to yours, nudging you as if to ask what he should do

“Get henry, go get Henry, Kal”

you didn’t have to tell him twice

he’d bolted to the study seeking out henry, knocking over everything he flies past, running as fast as he possibly can within the confines of the walls in the house

he was loudly barking the whole time, knowing that right now you are in jeopardy and that his Henry is your only saving grace 

he’d burst into Henry’s study nearly knocking the door off its hinges, almost jumping onto Henry’s lap

immediately Henry knew that something was wrong

normally a gentle giant around the house, Kal is bumping into things trying to reach his master, to get you the help you needed from Henry

“Kal, Kal show me where, what’s wrong. Is it Y/N? The baby? Mumma?”

He received a large bark in return, before Kal was rushing back to the kitchen to show his Henry where you were

Henry had raced behind Kal to where you were, panicking as he heard you call for him weakly

he eventually found you, sitting on the kitchen floor and clutching your belly in pain

Kal had stood by the door, watching Henry take over, his muscular form lifting you up and holding you close to get you to safety over on a soft chair

“it’s too early love, it’s got to be false contractions”

“they don’t feel false”

Kal had watched as Henry made a couple of calls, with sweat collecting at his brow

He had then spent a few moments with you, counting and calculating timings on his watch while you’d cried “it can’t be time, he’s not ready Henry”

Kal watched his Henry take your hands and stay close to you, trying to keep calm on the surface while making you a myriad of promises

just 10 minutes later, Kal had been left in the house alone 

his only hope was that you and his Henry will be okay when you return

he’d had a strange few days at a friend’s house

their garden was smaller and they had a cat, but Kal hadn't minded them too much

he had still been concerned about where his Henry and his Y/N went so suddenly

and why did you not want to take him with you?

On the Tuesday, Kal hears the words “You’re going back home today, to see your parents! And they have your baby brother waiting there too!”

Kal was delivered back home that afternoon, and comes bounding into the house, making a beeline for Henry who was waiting by the front door to greet his furry friend

You had stayed upstairs in the master bedroom with Will, making sure he was safe from the inevitable commotion downstairs

You’d heard Henry embrace Kal, talking to him like an old friend whom he hadn't seen in years

Kal was so riled up from being away for so long, and Henry still in a lovestruck daze from the last 72 hours

“I know we were gone so suddenly, but everything is okay. We’re back now, and we have someone special we want you to meet” you can hear your husband speak excitedly to the bear

Kal had whined in retaliation, as if to ask "why did you leave me, Henry? What could have possibly been so important?”

“Kal” and it’s Henry’s no nonsense voice that you’d recognised this time; “Your baby brother is upstairs with Mum but he is very little. Very, very small. And you’re a big bear. So we’re going to be calm. Okay? Calm and gentle bear, good boy.”

Henry's footsteps and the tinkling of Kal’s collar were becoming clearer and clearer before the door to the master bedroom creaks open 

and there stands Kal in all his fluffy glory

Henry is right by him, watching over every move Kal makes, with baited breath in case he decides to make a running leap towards you and your tiny bundle of joy

Henry had looked up to you with a gentle grin, ensuring the door was left open in the event of any sporadic movements, particularly if Kal wasn’t interested in this new person after all

“Knock knock, Kal’s promised to be good if he wants to see his brother”

Kal wants to jump up onto the bed but he knows he can’t, no matter how curious he is

so he just waits patiently by the bed, because whatever you were holding  seems important, especially given that Henry is being very stern with him

maybe this is the special thing that his Henry and Y/N had loved so much

he looks up at you as you lean down enough for him to see the baby’s little face 

“Kal, this is your baby brother. This is who all the fuss has been about. he’ll be able to play with you some day, when he’s a bit bigger.”

Kal blinks, taking the situation in

A new smell, a new person

A new, tiny Henry

At this realisation, he fondly rested his head in your lap right next to Will, receiving praise from Henry “easy boy, good boy Kal”

Kal makes an oath there and then to protect his tiny Henry

He sniffed a blanketed foot carefully, nuzzling it before staring at your sweet baby’s face

You look up at Henry briefly, and he’s already watching you as the rest of the scene plays out

“I think our boys are going to get along just fine” you murmur, basking in the fond greeting between Kal and baby Cavill

only for it to end a moment later when your son squeaks the quietest noise, causing Kal to back up quickly, shocked by the sound

“Ohh, are you saying hello to Kal honey? He is so gentle and fluffy isn’t he?” you’d cooed to the fidgeting bundle in your arms

“i think it’s Kal who needs to watch out around here now” Henry comments with a grin

Whenever Henry goes out to play fetch with Kal in the huge garden - it may as well be a football field - you’d watch carefully from the balcony window while cradling Will, pointing out his how his Daddy throws a ball or a stick, and how clever Kal is for fetching and returning it

whenever your older boys are done, they both scramble to be first back to see you and the youngest of the Cavill pack

Will is often found snoozing, giving Kal the perfect excuse to curl up right alongside his crib him to protect him, should anything threaten his soft sleepy snores

And if Will is sleeping in the crib in the master bedroom right beside you and Henry, Kal paws at the door until he is let in, taking his rightful spot curled up beside his new best friend

If you or Henry, or a loving relative or friend is holding him, there is Kal right by their side, as if to stake his claim; “this is my baby”

In the middle of the night when Will starts crying, Kal is there first to check on his tiny Henry before he runs for immediate assistance

cue Henry having tripped over Kal in the middle of the night several times now, as Kal had rushed to the master bedroom and Henry having rushed out of it in the dark

Usually the consequences involve Henry taking a bump to his shin or his head, with you having to get up, turn the light on and fetch a crying baby Will

So yes, Kal is in the nursery a lot of the time and yes, you need to install a couple of night lights in the hallways so that Henry doesn’t ultimately fall down the stairs or continue to injure himself via a fluffy Kal on a rescue mission

Henry always exclaims the next morning “I can’t believe he’s always in the room”

Which makes you laugh, replying “You’re just jealous he loves Will more than you now. I have to say Will is taking the badge for favourite Cavill of the month in this household”

Will sleeps a lot, and when Kal eventually gets bored, he sticks his big head into the crib, panting and waiting for his tiny Henry to pay him some attention

when you catch him, you rub his big head, letting him sit on the bed while you cradle a snoozing Will

however if Henry catches Kal with his head in the crib? Kal is out of the nursery for the rest of the day

“He can’t stick his head in like that, I’m not having him hurting Junior, accident or not”

So you need to unite your parenting tactics to train your dog before you use them to parent Will

When he’s not in his crib, Will is in one of the new moving cribs that Henry had researched to death before ordering and consequently building himself

That was an especially hot day in your pregnancy, and it was in December

Kal often just lays and watches his little best friend in it for as long as he likes, as he soon realises his large Henry will allow him to do that

sometimes you see Will laying in the crib with lots of dog toys around him

courtesy of Kal, of course

typically, Henry will be around to supervise, always thanking Kal on Junior’s behalf, engaging his two dependents in conversation; “oh look another toy, Will. Thank you Kal”

Kal would already be out of the room to fetch another toy while tiny Will is taking a hardcore nap

feeding and putting weight on is hard work!!

Henry definitely gets a few stares at the park now; a big beefy man, pushing a high-tech stroller, alongside an absolute unit of a dog

Kal is obedient as always, walking nicely beside the stroller with his two Henrys

he’s not even tempted by puddles or ducks or squirrels

his focus is on his best friends, especially the one wearing their brand new sweater to signify his move to newborn sized clothing at the age of 9 weeks

he loves watching his Henry and his Mama celebrate his tiny best friend, no matter how small their achievements - or sweaters - are

Kal is always gonna look out for his large Henry and his new tiny Henry, who both have the same dark curls and sparkly eyes

He is just the most wonderful big brother you could ever have wished for your little boy, and you’re sure they will get into heaps of laughs and trouble when Will grows up to become a rambunctious toddler, with peels of giggles coming from wherever the two will be playing together

Kal has the patience of a saint, and it’s why you don’t worry at all when you find out a couple years later, that there will be two more little Henry’s for him to play with and guard, with his whole fluffy being

---

let me know what you think / any questions / any requests HERE

#Henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fluff #dad!henry cavill #kal cavill #Kal + Will vibes #it's tiny will cavill's world we are all just living in it #cavillary

[donutloverxo]

Tainted

*gifs not mine*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is inspired by a hc @sweater-daddiesdumbdork once wrote me and gave me a frigging murder kink. Life ruiner😡😡

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

Summary - Steve saves you and plans on never letting you go again.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), kidnappings, being held hostage, murder, blood, non descriptive violence, captain kink, slight murder kink.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 6.8k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

One of the most amazing thing about living with you was that Steve never had to come home to an empty house. He was now responsible for you, he’d have to shoot you a text message, he had gotten pretty good at texting, thanks to your guidance, or call you, he definitely liked calling and hearing your voice better. He’ll always be old school.

You’d get that slight waver in your voice as you tried to pretend that you weren’t sad, he could see your cute little pout through the phone. And while he would never want to cause you any sort of pain, knowing that you’d be waiting for him, that you’re missing him when he’s away, made him feel wanted.

That even someone like him deserved love and happiness and a safe, boring life. That may be there was a reason he died only to wake up again in a strange new world.

That wasn’t to say you didn’t come with your own set of challenges. You were messy if anything, leaving clutter everywhere and putting off doing your dishes and laundry for days. Maybe not the most practical but definitely the cutest roommate in the world.

He’d learn to put up with it because it was worth it. Maybe, he could even learn to 'let loose' a little as people always recommended to him.

At first, he couldn’t wait to ask you to marry him. He had even impulsively bought a ring with your birthstone, he knew you were obsessed with them and astrology and maybe even dark magic. But then you surprised him with a date to an old diner and introduced him as your boyfriend to your friends.

He liked your friends quite a lot, he couldn’t really understand what they were talking about half the time. From what he could tell - by their fascination with his muscles and all the touching and squeezing to his biceps, them wanting to hear about his life before the ice - it seemed that they liked him too.

But hearing you call him that, your guy, your boyfriend, your beau, as your friend Stacey had put it, he decided that he wasn’t quite ready to let go of this blissful courting period. He was rushing things.

He needed to live in the moment and just enjoy being your boyfriend for now, he had all the time in the world to wife you up - preferably not to late though.

He was so unbelievably happy, ecstatic to see you, to surprise you, his mission ending a week early he got home as soon as he could. He thought of maybe taking you to Vermont for the weekend, he had never been but Nat told him it’d be a nice little getaway and that you’d love it.

His wide smile slowly fade away as he looked at the state of his door - the latch broken. Forced entry. Somebody broke his door in. He pushed the door wide open and made his way in.

He knew what was to come next but he willed that thought away. Maybe you kicked it in yourself, maybe you forgot your keys. He kept telling himself that because he was terrified of thinking the alternative.

He stepped in as soon as he was able to shake himself out of his haze. Looking at the state of his, and your, apartment. A broken vase, and the coffee table smashed in.

Crouching down to take a closer look he saw some blood on the ceramic. Whoever did this to your home, better hope that it’s wasn’t yours.

He got up, directing his simmering rage towards his new mission. He didn’t panic, not yet, he couldn’t give himself that kind of luxury. His mind coming up with ten different to find you and make the bastards who did this pay.

NOBody can hurt the people he loves, especially his girl, and get away with it.

***

Your eyes fluttered open before scrunching shut to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light. You blinked, looking around you while squinting.

Some sort of empty grey room... a window to the side but it was dark outside. You dress sticking to your skin as your whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Three men in a corner, one for them shouting at the others in a foreign language.

You felt a yip of pain radiating in your arms and then realised they were tied up behind you - strapped to a creaky chair.

You tried to shake free of them, by wiggling your wrists but then winced at the burn it caused, capturing the attention of your kidnappers.

One of them smiled at you, walking towards you.

“Finally awake, are we?” he asked in an abnormally chirpy way. “You were out for quiet some time. Did you sleep well?”

He squatted before you, you could see his face, his cold grey eyes betraying the warm smile that graced his lips. Many white scars littered over his jaw...

And then you remembered.

How you rushed home when you felt someone was following you. Locking the door, you tried to call Steve but couldn’t get through to him.

And then your stalker broke into your home. You tried to smash his head in with a vase but couldn’t really do any real damage. Everything was hazy after that. Maybe he drugged you - you couldn’t recall.

You exhaled shakily when you realised he was watching you both from the corner. You could never forget his dark hoodie and hair. Or fresh cut on his forehead. You had never so much as hurt a fly or even slapped anyone. How you managed to smash his head in you’ll never know.

You looked at the man before you again when you heard him calling out your name, his smile haltered for a moment as he looked back to your stalker.

“I’m sorry about that, he’s a rookie. He’ll be reprimanded soon enough. This wasn’t exactly our plan but we’ve decided to improvise.”

You tried to speak but with your throat and mouth dry and your mind in shock the words wouldn’t come out.

“Oh, that’s alright, don’t struggle. We don’t want anything to do with you, you’re just a normal plain Jane going about your life, aren’t you?”

You could only give him a weak nod, still trying your best to shake yourself free of your bounds without him noticing.

“That’s right. You haven’t done anything wrong, you don’t deserve to have anything bad happen to you, do you?”

You nodded again. Your breath hitched when he got closer to you, in your face, his hands planted on your bare thighs with your skirt pooled just below your hips.

“But we don’t always get what we deserve. You’re close to the Captain, that’s right Michael’s told me all about how taken he is with you. I mean... I never would’ve imagined Captain America would pick someone like you but to each their own,” he cupped your cheek, the cracks in his palm harsh against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” you asked, not looking away from him.

“I want justice. For things to be in the right order. You’ll have to suffer for it, but know that it’s for a good cause.”

“You’re wrong,” you shook your head, “he’ll come for me.”

“We’re counting on that,” he snickered.

You’re not sure what came over you, all you knew was that you wanted his disgusting hands off of you, “He’ll come for me, and then you’ll regret ever touching me.”

“Uh, I don’t know about this,” you pulled on a thread from your skirt with your right hand, your other hand in Steve’s as he held onto your waist, pulling you into his side. “It’ll be inside me?” you shuddered.

“Yes, but,” Bruce scratched his head, he was adorable like that. You never would’ve imagined him to be the hulk, a 'rage monster’. “it’s not as bad as you think. You won’t even feel it. All shield agents and Avengers have one. Except Thor, because that wouldn’t be of any use. The radius is only on earths surface. You would’ve thought that would be enough,” he chuckled.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, looking at the chip, smaller than an acrylic nail, watching Bruce load it up.

“I know it’s not ideal, doll. But I’ll feel much better knowing I can find you, in case something goes wrong.” He kissed your temple, as you braced yourself.

“Will it hurt?” you gulped as Bruce lined the shooter or gun, by the looks of it, to your forearm.

“Just a little. You’ll barely feel it.” He gave you a sympathetic smile.

“Look at me, pup,” Steve gripped your chin, moving your head till you looked into his blue eyes, he pressed his lips to yours, massaging your tongue with his to distract you.

“Mm,” you winced and moaned into his mouth when you felt the piercing pain. It was like getting a flu shot but you had never having been a huge fan of needles either.

He released his hold on you as Bruce worked on cleaning your the blood seeping through your pierced skin. “You did good.” Steve said.

“Do I get a sucker?” You asked Bruce and he chuckled - as if you were joking, you do not joke about candy, “No I really want one.”

“Let’s keep this between us.” Steve told you both.

“Of course,” Bruce nodded, “I can keep tracker dormant till we need it but are you sure?”

“I’m not sure who I can trust.” But he knew he could trust his teammates.

You sniffled, keeping your tears at bay because really something so little shouldn’t make you cry, rubbing your hand over your wounded bicep as Bruce handed you some gummy bears.

“They’re Tony’s. He leaves snacks everywhere, it’s annoying.”

“Thank you.” You blinked up at him and offered some to Steve.

You never thought you’d need it. Until now, you were sure your friends or your mother would notice that you’ve been gone and Steve will find out and track you down. You knew he would. He had to.

He frowned, his nails digging into your cheekbones, pluckering your lips, “Where’s all that confidence coming from?” he quirked a curious brow up, “He’ll walk right in and pay for everything he’s done,” he snorted.

“You’re way underprepared to take someone like him on,” shut up, shut up, shut up, why the fuck are you egging him on? “He’s strong, he’s a survivor.” Even without the serum, he survived an abusive household, being bullied, being sick, and you knew how protective he could be. To the point where it was downright irritating.

“We’ve got all the time in the world to prepare, you should be worrying about yourself,” he spat.

You had always been bold, even in the most inappropriate of situations. Like when you lectured a boy for over an hour on respecting boundaries for throwing spitballs at you, in kindergarten. Steve even said that he fell for that ‘spunk' in you.

‘Well-behaved women rarely make history’ your mother had told you.

And really, you liked that about yourself as well. You liked that you found a man that would encourage that side of you instead of calling you ‘difficult’ or ‘bossy’.

However, you immediately regretted everything you had said. Not because it was untrue, but because your captor took out a sharp pocket knife, a dark glint in his eyes.

“We only need you alive,” he said as you gulped, “I suppose, it wouldn’t matter if you’re missing a finger or two.”

You frantically shook your head, choking on a sob. “No,” you pleaded, “you’ll... he will find me and you will - ”

“Go to prison at best. It’s a risk we’re all willing to take,” he put the blunt end of the knife against your cheek, “We have to do something to kill the time.”

You couldn’t breath, your heart hammering in your chest, what if he doesn’t come for you? You won’t be able to do anything about it. It wasn’t like you could protect yourself, at least in this situation, all you could do was wait for him.

You shut your eyes, and braced yourself for the pain. Except... it never came, you simply heard someone fall down, some sort of clattering sound.

Upon opening your eyes you saw one of his friends face down before your in the corner, the other guy, your lovely stalker, drawing out his gun, looking at the only window to your left. You swore you a saw a glimpse of a flying disk knocking your stalker out.

The man before you cursed under his breath, “Get. Up. Come on!” he ordered.

“Yeah, if I could do that I probably would’ve,” you snarked, still trying to get your aching wrists free.

You barely even registered - who could only be your Captain - sneaking up behind him, snapping his neck with his hands in a matter of seconds. He collapsed on the ground and you could finally see Steve.

His clenched jaw and cold eyes softened up on seeing you, you couldn’t help but let out a sob as you realised you were going to be free.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he soothed you, kissing your forehead before swiftly free your hands.

You stood up on wobbly legs, holding onto his arms for support, “Steve,” you breathed out, “you came for me.”

“Of course I did,” he sighed, gently pushing your face against his chest as he hugged you close to him. “As if I’d ever abandon you,” he smoothed a hand over your back and decided to not dwell on your comment. This wasn’t about him, you were in shock.

“I was so scared,” you sniffled, “he said, he - ” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you broke down in a fit of sobs and hiccups.

“You’re safe now,” he promised.

“You - did you kill him?” you pushed away from him to look up at his face so you could take him in.

You had never seen him in his uniform. Only ever seeing him on the news but he had his cowl on and a suit that was much more on brand for ‘Captain America’ than the darker one he had on now. It made him look bigger - if that was even possible. Bigger than the shield now strapped to his back.

His usually clean shaven face had the faintest shadow to it while his hair was slicked back. He looked beautiful, so soft and innocent, definitely not someone who’s capable of hurting anyone.

“He hurt you,” he replied, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised wrists, “and so many others, he got what was coming to him.”

“You knew him?”

“Yes. He got away the last time we tried to catch him - but we don’t have to talk about that right now. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

You shook your head, “No, I’m just thirsty and I really want to lay down,” you murmured, resting your head on the star in the middle of his chest.

He pressed a hand to his ear, letting his team know that he had found you. You vaguely saw agents clad in black gear storm the room.

“We did a sweep of the place. No one else is here,” Natasha said. “How you doing?” and then frowned when you didn’t respond.

“She’s tired. It’s okay, love,” he kissed your temple, snaking a hand under your knees and picking you up with ease.

You weakly nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, glad to be babied by him because you didn’t have the strength to stand.

“They didn’t give you anything to eat?” Nat scoffed as you shook your head.

“How long have I been here?” you looked at Steve, struggling to stay awake.

“A day and a half. We’ll get you fixed up,” he swore, carrying you towards the quinget.

“Where are we?” you nuzzled your nose against the rough kevlar of his suit.

“Bermuda,” he said.

“Oo, I’ve always wanted to come here... just maybe not like this,” you chuckled but Steve didn’t find it all that amusing. You cupped his cheek in your palm, hoping to maybe calm him down a bit before falling asleep.

***

You vaguely heard a familiar voice calling out your name, you’d recognise it anywhere, it was one of your favorites, one you’d known your entire life.

“Mom?” you muttered, opening your eyes and looking around the room to look for her. You smiled when you saw her sitting on a chair just beside your bed, the faint, annoying beeping told you that you were probably in a hospital.

“Hey there, honey,” she smiled back at you, her eyes misty as she pressed her lips to your cheek. “Do you have any idea how much you scared me?”

“I’m sorry,” you tried to sit up as she fluffed your pillow up to support you. “I was... um... kidnapped.” Saying it out loud made it feel so ridiculous. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought.

“Yes, Steve filled us in on everything. So, Captain America, huh?” she raised her brows.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously. Doing a once over to your large, mostly white room to look for him. He wouldn’t just up and leave you, would he?

“How long has it been going on?” she asked.

“Um, three or four months?” you winced when you realised just how much trouble you were in.

“And, you live with him. Linda filled us in on everything. You’re quitting your job too now.”

“It’s - it’s not as bad as it sounds...”

“Never mind that, you need to rest. Then you won’t have to worry about all this. I’m taking you home with me. And you’re never coming back here again.”

“What? No! I still have over two years of school left.”

“You can do it online! You can find just as a good a job in Queens.”

“No! I’m not coming,” you whined.

“Well, you’re not living with a man you barely know either.”

You were interrupted by a knock on the door. A doctor entering, apologising for disturbing you and Steve right behind her. He still hadn’t changed out of his suit.

He stood at the end of your bed, squeezing your foot to let you know he was there for you as your mother glared daggers at him.

“Looks like you’re doing good. Blood sugars back to normal as well...” the doctor said, “You’re free to go home.”

“Really?” you smiled. So done with everything. Sleeping in your own bed sounded like heaven.

“Yes, let us know if you need anything.” She looked over your chart again and then left.

“Good then, you can come home now.”

“No! I’m going to my apartment in Manhattan, the one I share with Steve.” You rolled your eyes. Pleading Steve to back you up with your eyes.

He cleared his throat, “Um, ma'am, you can come stay with us, if you like.”

He held your mothers gaze, to let her know that he was serious and earnest.

He knew he wasn’t perfect by any means. He had a million flaws and cuts that ran deeper than anybody would ever know but he always thought, or maybe arrogantly assumed, that if nothing else he was someone ‘you take home to mama’ as Clint had once put it. He thought that your parents, like most, would like him. That he’d easily get their blessing to be with their daughter. He was known to be America’s golden boy after all.

But your mother had ripped him a new one as soon as she saw him. Accusing him of abusing his power to woo you. That you were here because of him. That he’s not worthy of you.

And all he could do was stand there and take it because everything she had said was the truth. He didn’t deserve you, you were captured and possibly traumatised because of him.

At the same time, he couldn’t just let you go. Not till he gets to the bottom of who had hurt you and makes sure that you’re safe from now on.

“No, thank you.” She scoffed, looking back at you and shaking her head. “What are you doing with your life?”

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes but being with Steve definitely isn’t one,” you looked over to him, he looked just as tired as you, “I just want to go home. My home with Steve.”

“Fine, I’ve always let you make your own decisions.” she sighed, finally giving in.

“And I’ve never disappointed you.”

“That’s debatable,” she snorted, “I’ll come check on you tomorrow then. Maybe send me your address. You know? Something you should’ve done months ago.” She returned to glaring at Steve.

“I’ve only been living with him for a month!” you tried to defend yourself.

***

“I can take off my own clothes, Stevie,” you giggled, him kneeling before you to help you out of the sweets the med bay gave you. Your dress was dirty and ragged now. “I really liked that dress though. I don’t have many like it. You think we can get it back?”

“Maybe, I’ll see what I can do, doll,” he kissed your bare thigh before rolling your panties down your legs.

“You’re kinda dirty too,” you remarked, sniffing him. He didn’t smell bad, as if Steve would ever smell bad to you. Just a bit of gunpowder, like that of firecrackers, a bit pungent instead of his normal piney and woodsy scent.

“Thank you,” he deadpanned before cracking a smile, “I was just excited to see you. Or I would’ve showered before coming home and then I didn’t get a chance to.”

He worked on unbuttoning your shirt He insisted on you getting a button up instead of a t-shirt considering how sore your arms were from being toed up for so long. Tied up... like an animal.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, caressing his cheek, “come back to me.”

“Sorry, I’m just... I don’t know,” he shook his head. He couldn’t let you know the guilt and despair he felt, you’d end up comforting him instead of the other way around. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Yeah. Still can’t believe any of this was real.” Running your hands up and down his suit, the feel of the material almost soothing to touch. “You wanna shower with me?”

“Don’t know, doll. That showers pretty small.”

He did have a pretty generous salary but opted to live in a more modest apartment, he never took more than he needed anyway, with a small shower. Not too small, but definitely not big enough for you both.

“We’ll make do, come on. I’ll make you squeaky clean.”

He took over ten minutes to get rid of the suit. You watched intently as he removed more latches than you could count.

“Is it bulletproof?” you wanted to know.

“Yes. But probably not as good as a vest. I’ve never been shot so I wouldn’t know.” He answered, taking off his undershirt.

“It’s funny because I always thought y’all were naked under there,” you chuckled, and then your jaw dropped as he took off his briefs.

You had never seen his cock while it was soft before. He was always more than excited when you got to him. It was amazing how pretty he looked either way.

“You and so many other people,” he almost shuddered at the thought of having been asked the same question so many times.

After making sure the water was hot enough, you both stood under it.

You took some of the lavender wash you had bought from lush, squeezing it on your sponge. Steve, bless him, was amazing at so many things. Shopping - it seemed was not one of them. All he had in his bathroom was a bar of soap, one toothbrush and a vintage straight razor.

Which just won’t do for you, so you took it upon yourself to stock the whole place up with your favorite stuff. The lavender being Steve’s favorite, you remembered how flustered you got when he told you that you smelled good. And then tried to explain that you always smell good while turning redder than a tomato.

You did his front, asking him to bent his neck a bit so you could wash his hair because he was almost a foot taller than you. You were about to do his legs, you’d take any excuse to feel up his thick thighs but he told you he’d do the rest himself.

Taking the sponge from you, he ran it under some water, working on cleaning you thoroughly. Under your arms, your breasts, your stomach, between your legs and then your legs.

You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - he knew that since the moment he had met you. But something about washing you up like that felt so intimate even though there was nothing erotic about it.

After washing you thoroughly he wrapped you up in a towel, “My cute lil' burrito,” he booped your nose.

You puffed your cheeks out, you weren’t sure if you liked that nickname. Observing just how gentle he was with you, helping you into a cotton nightie, as opposed to drying himself off hastily and carelessly before pulling some sweats and briefs on.

“Don’t wear a shirt,” you pleaded, he looked amazing shirtless, but that wasn’t the only reason, you really liked feeling his skin on hours, pressing kissing on his perfect, smooth, golden skin, ”pretty please.” Right now, he’d give you anything you wanted and you intended on milking that as much as you can.

“Alright, doll,” he replied, pulling you up in his arms again as if you were his bride, as you giggled so sweetly, “now, what would you like to eat? No take out, it has to be healthy. And remember my culinary skills are limited,” he said, carrying you to the living room and putting you on the couch as he started working in the kitchen.

“Stevie, I’m not hungry. Well, that’s not true, I’d like some ice cream,” fluttering your lashes at him, “Mint chocolate chip? I’m pretty sure we have some.”

“Of course, puppy,” you smiled, at the prospect of getting a sweet treat and the nickname, “as soon as you eat something.” He added and you huffed in annoyance.

He whipped up a sandwich for you, two for him because he was starving, some peach iced tea so you wouldn’t eat his ear off while complaining.

You only picked at your food, giving more than half of it to him. You truly didn’t feel like eating, instead craving some cuddles with him.

You tried striking up a conversation with him multiple times. Not because you didn’t like silence. You did when it came to him, you could go hours without talking and it would feel so serene and perfect. You never had to talk just for the sake of it when you were with him.

But you had come to read Steve pretty well. He seemed distant and closed off. The air around you both thick with tension. You tried to ease it while telling him about how brave you were while quitting and didn’t cry at all, how Tony dropped by and was apparently stalking you - which was a bad idea because it seemed to make him angry, clench his jaw tight, his brows furrowed as he placed your plates in the sink.

Unsure if you had done something wrong or were mean to Tony, who was technically his boss, you twiddled with your fingers, “Um... I - I’m sorry,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears. Spending the night at your mom’s house sounded like the better choice now.

“Hm?” he looked back at you, he could do the dishes tomorrow, “what for?”

“I shouldn’t have been snarky with Tony. I know he’s your boss and all that but he’s kinda cocky... And I got really mad when I found out he did like a ‘background check' on me. I mean I get why he would but still. I can apologize to him.”

“No no,” he shook his head, kneeling before you, taking your hands in his, “you misunderstood, love. I’m not mad at you, I could never REALLY be mad at you. It’s Tony I’m angry with, he went behind my back, ambushed you at work.”

“To be fair, you did the same when you asked me out,” you snickered as a blush crept up his neck.

“Right.” He finally cracked a genuine smile placing feather light kisses on your knuckles and the to the bandages on your hands.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you asked, running your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails.

“It’s probably better if we don’t talk about it,” he said, laying his head on your lap. Your slight scratching massaging his never-resting head.

“I think we should. My mom said I don’t know you. And to some extent, she is right. I don’t. Maybe I’m just imagining things but... sometimes it feels like you’re holding back.”

He gathered enough courage to look up at you, your almond shaped eyes looking down at his and he knew that he could talk to you about anything. He did. But there will always be that little voice that tells him that he shouldn’t. He would only trouble you.

“Don’t you pride yourself on being honest?” you caressed his scratchy cheek.

He snorted. He really was dense enough to think he was the perfect son-in-law package.

“I just, the way you looked at me, when I killed that man, I’m afraid that you’re scared of me now. That’s the last thing I want. It’s my worst nightmare really.” He leant into your touch.

“Steve, that wasn’t because I’m scare of you. It was because I’m fond of you. You were so strong and brave and you saved me. I liked being the damsel in distress more than I thought,” He chuckled at that, his doubts a bit relieved, “that’s... not all though.” You murmured.

“What is it?” he wanted to know.

“You, um, the fact that you would do that for me... it’s just. I never thought anyone would love me that much.”

“I only regret doing it in front of you. I’m sorry you had to see that or go through any of that.”

“I’m not a child, Steve,” you rolled your eyes.

“Of course not, but you’re you. You’re pure and an angel. I - I’m tainted - tainted by blood, tainted by war - ”

“Steve, that’s not true. You’re not, you’re the pure-est person I know. War and - that doesn’t define you.”

“You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew about all the things I have done, sweetheart.” The sweet nickname he had for you, which now he used in a patronising tone, “I let my best friend die. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“What’re you talking about?” you frowned. You heard about Bucky from him and your history textbooks but you don’t remember reading anything like that.

“It’s... something I’m not ready to get into.” He put his forehead on your knee. He knew you loved him but there was only so much baggage you would be willing to accept.

“Okay. You can take your time and tell me if and when you’re ready, baby.” You went back to idly playing with his, “But I need you to know that I love you. Nothing you could ever say will change that. To think that... for a second I thought that you wouldn’t come for me.”

He snapped his head back up, “What?”

“I thought, that you’d be busy with your mission. You wouldn’t even find out I was missing or... you just wouldn’t care enough to come yourself. I mean, I knew you would come, obviously. But you have other more important work...”

“No,” he shook his head, “How could you ever think anything's more important to me than you and your life?”

“Yeah, I was being stupid.”

“You can be a bit silly sometimes, doll.” He nuzzled your tummy, making you giggle. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I was so scared I’d never see you again,” he confessed against your nightgown.

“That’d be a bit hard to do. Keeping an eye on me like that. But if it means I get to spend more time with you then I’m down.”

You convinced Steve to let you have some ice cream. He only let you have half a scope, telling you that you’d have trouble sleeping otherwise.

“I’ve been sleeping for most of the last two days.” You tried to argue but it was hard to change his mind once he had it set on something.

You both brushed your teeth together and he stared at you as you went about your night-time skincare routine.

Cleanse, serum, moisturize, sleep mask.

All he did was wash his face and he still looked fucking perfect.

He stayed true to his word, sticking by your side to the point where you had to kick him outside to have some privacy to pee in peace. He was right there waiting for you when you opened the door.

Finally, you were in your cosy bed. Light’s off and cuddled tight with your boyfriend. Your stuffed unicorn and your Captain America plushie to your other side.

With your legs tangled together, you rubbed your feet up and down his legs. Which were unfortunately covered with his sweats.

“Steve,” you whined.

“Yes?”

“Take off these damn pants. They’re hurting my skin. So friggin' prickly.”

“Sorry, doll. I know how precious your skin is.” He sounded like he was mocking you but he followed, pushing his pants away.

“Good?” he asked holding you close to him again.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed against his naked chest. “Let’s sleep like this everyday, please.”

“Sure.” He replied. He liked being a ‘human furnace' for you.

He wasn’t going to fall asleep. Not after everything that happened. He hadn’t slept well in the past week but he was afraid that if he’d shut his eyes for a single moment and you’d be gone. This time, he wouldn’t be lucky enough to find you.

He hadn’t been to crunch or even prayed in a while. Losing his faith a long time ago after all the terrible things he had seen. But he had prayed when he came back found his home to be wreck. He prayed that you’d come back to him because there were some things he just could not control. Nobody could.

After a while he lowly whispered your name. “Are you awake?” he asked.

It was silly but he missed you. Even though you were laying right next to him in his arms - the safest place you could be.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep. Even though I’m so tired.” You yawned. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?” You snorted. “You’re not a good liar, Steven.”

“Can I ask you something? And you can say no if you want I won’t mind.”

“Sure, shoot.”

“Can I, um, have you? I just need to feel you, sweetheart. After everything – I need to know you’re really here.” he was cut off by your lips crashing on his.

You winced when your teeth clamped together but he soothed your upper lip by nipping at it with his tongue.

“Steve,” you panted as he broke awake, shifting under the sheets and pushing the helm of your gown up.

He placed quick open mouthed kisses all over your thighs, over your stretch marks, spreading your thighs further to accommodate his broad shoulders, he made sure to check in with you again.

All you did was push his head towards your heat, begging him to eat your pussy - as if he needed to be told twice.

Swirling and spreading your glistening juices of arousal around your weeping lips, he dove in for his prize. Drawing patterns on your bundle of nerves before sucking at it harshly, he plunged his tongue inside. Lacing his fingers with yours and pinning your hands down by your hips.

You kept desperately pushing your hips up, wanting more. Arching your back up and holding onto his hands tightly as he lightly grazed his teeth over your clit.

“Say my name, sweetheart,” he demanded against your heat, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

Your orgasm washing over you in waves, electrifying every nerve in your body as you clamped your legs around his head, holding onto him.

He kept lapping you up through it, taking everything you’d give him.

He loved worshipping you - spending as much time as he could between your legs - because you were his goddess but right now, he just needed to feel you.

He climbed up the bed, hovering over you, he pushed two thick fingers inside you mouth till the second knuckle.

“Get them nice and wet, doll.” He instructed.

You moaned around him, making loud suckling noises, “Yesh, Captain,” it came out muffled, what with your mouth full.

“Captain?” he smirked. You had only ever called him that as a joke, he never knew being called that in a salacious way could stroke a fire inside him. Making him them painfully hard in the confines of his tight briefs. He pulled his fingers out of you, pushing his hand down till it was between your legs. Nudging your entrance with them.

“Sorry, it slipped out.” You were too unabashed to feel guilty. 

He scoffed, “Say it again.” 

Pushing his fingers inside you. Pumping them at a fast pace before you even had a second to think. It was desperate and fast so unlike how it is usually between you both. He needed to be inside you but your needs would always come before his. 

“Captain,” you mewled, chewing on your lower lip and holding onto his face. You couldn’t see him clearly in the dark but you still need to look at him. “I told them my Captain would come for me. And you did...” he swallowed your screams with his mouth as you clenched around his fingers. 

“That’s right,” he groaned, sucking your slick off of his fingers, “I’ll always protect you. I’ll do anything for you.” 

Shaky fingers working on taking his cock out of the hard confines of his uncomfortable underwear. He didn’t waste a single second before sinking inside you, as deep as he could. He moaned into your neck, “So fucking tight, doll. Like you were made for me,” he bit your neck. 

Drawing his hips back he thrusted inside you, brushing against your g-spot, making you keen. 

He stopped immediately, propping himself up on his elbows he looked down at your hooded eyes. “You alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, “Yes, it’s just so good,” as if to prove it you clenched around his length, to make him feel all of you just as he was doing to you. 

He groaned at that, his balls already tightening, aching for release, “What’s the safe word?” 

“Mm... buttercream.”

“That’s right, good girl,” he cooed as you whimpered at his praise as he withdrew his hips again, loving you in a slow soft way. 

Pushing your gown up till it was above your breasts - he didn’t really have the patience to properly take it off. He sucked a spot just above your breast, so you’d remember his love every time you looked at it. Your nipples pebbled and goose bumps painted your skin, with your cunt tight around him he knew you were close. 

Wrapping his mouth around one bud, He pulled and pinched at the other. He stopped his ministrations, he needed to look at you as you climaxed. To know that you needed him at least half as much as he needed you. 

Your face scrunched up as you met your bliss, your nails drawing blood from shoulders - not that he cared in the slightest. 

His hips retracting and thrusting as he lost all sense of rhythm and finesse chasing his end as you laid boneless beneath him. He kept fucking into you, filling you to the brim. 

He heaved above you, making sure not to collapse on top of you. Reluctantly he pulled himself out of you. 

Pulling you close to him, his lips pressed up against the crown of your head, he whispered sweet nothings to you. “My brave girl.” He kissed the tip of your nose. “You’re so strong, sweetheart.”

“Stronger than the hulk?”

“Yes, definitely,” he replied, tracing the bandages wrapped around your wrists. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“Oh, I’ll sleep alright. Thanks to you.” You giggled. 

***

tags will be in the reblog.

this was my longest fic!i know it wasnt the best conclusion to something i drew outover 4 chapters but its the best i could do. sorry for weird format tumblrs mad i had too much fun lol. comments and reblogs are really appreciated!!

#the donut series #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #berry writes

[sunjaesol]

love, between the shadow and the soul

chenford | drabble | post-canon | title: sonnet xvii - pablo neruda

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Look, Tim Bradford did not get attracted to rookies, okay? In all the years he had been a TO, none had grabbed his attention. Not when he and Isabelle were dating, or married, or when she disappeared into the night with a trail of illicit affairs and a shot of heartache for him. Dozens of young women had sat in that car beside him and never ever had he let their femininity distract him. He served his country. He fought wars overseas. He looked Death right in the eye every single day and never blinked.

But then came officer Lucy Chen. He instantly knew the type of cop she’d be the second she turned in her seat, meeting his gaze for the first time, and nervously smiled at him. Nerves were normal, he was aware, but the doe-eyed look and the hopeful grin sold her out. No mystery. Just another young cop that would either slip through the cracks by the exam by tanking their grade due to stress, or she’d become a desk duty cop — one that stayed far from danger, that handled life with a perpetual softer touch ‘cause of her shrink parents.

Nothing wrong with that, Bishop would chastise him. Every cop had its use, she’d add. Sure, that might be true, but Tim didn’t want to babysit an armed toddler waiting for it to cry and call for mom. With just a couple well-placed Tim-tests, she’d be out of his hair in no time and then he could cross his fingers for a better recruit in the following weeks.

Life had the ability to change in a snap though — their funny, yet stern reminder that the universe called the shots, not the gun in his holster, or the rulebook. He got shot. Officer Chen backed him up. Her stubborn, yet brazen, yet honest attitude reeled him in just enough to ignore her little quirks she always joyfully displayed in the shop. Whenever he didn’t nip her ramblings in the bud fast enough, she babbled on and on about her personal life, her personal issues and relationships, like they were best friends (They weren’t! Boots and him never befriended!), like their relationship was anything more than a transactional training period. They got each other’s six. That was it.

But fuck, man. She got under his skin, too.

Lucy wore this… really nice perfume. A lot of female officers had make-up and perfume on, allowed a small sliver of self-expression, and he and Lopez had spend countless hours in a shop together. He was used to it. But somehow, Lucy’s stuck in his nose and didn’t leave. He felt like a creep, thinking about the blend of cardamom and oranges and cherry blossoms mixing with her warm skin, uncontrollable while also wanted. He wanted to fantasise about that fucking perfume of hers, a realisation that took a long time to come to terms with.

That didn’t mean he liked her though — he quickly corrected himself the first time he caught the pattern of behaviour — all it meant was that Lucy had good taste in perfume. Case closed.

So why did he linger whenever her shimmery eyes flicked up at him, why did his breath catch in his throat when her voice dropped to that infuriating sincerity as she uttered words of appraisal? Why his heart go haywire when she recorded all those audio books for him; an out of line gesture and overzealous task for a boot, which would normally result in him laughing their face.

Tim never thought he’d get over Isabelle, nor did he ever believe he’d have his happily ever after with Rachel, but with Lucy he foolishly hoped for more. A more that came from such a stupid and deluded place, probably fostered through months of loneliness and the Pavlovian response to her perfume, but one he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop it. The man was always in control about everything, ran his own tests and went over every possible outcome every day, every hour — and yet he didn’t see her coming. Lucy Chen had been right under his nose and he hadn’t been prepared for the ground to disappear beneath his feet; something that should honestly get him fired. The callousness of his emotions while entertaining the idea of a relationship with his own boot sentenced him straight to P2 or desk duty, or whatever.

Lucy deserved someone better, anyway.

Someone that understood her love for sage and cleansing homes. Someone that liked veggie burgers, chai lattes, karaoke nights and social media lurking. Someone that wouldn’t hesitate for one second to open her door for a teenage girl in need of safety and a little bit of that Chen-love. Someone that wasn’t any of those firemen assholes, but wasn’t Tim either.

He never let his insecurities get the best of him, but after seeing her thrive as a P2 without him, handling undercover stints like a pro, conquering her trauma of being buried alive, it only showcased that she had more bravery in her index finger than some army members had in their entire body, all while staying innately kind. Of course Tim lost his mind over her. Of course he tried shaping officer Barnes to be more like Lucy — more sun and bite and charisma, less army BS. Of course, of course, of course. Even Rosalind, the person he hated most besides Caleb, had him figured out in seconds. He was obvious as hell.

Which was why he had to move stations. Away from the Mid-Wilshire Division and to another. He couldn’t be around her anymore and risk compromising missions or attacks. He didn’t tell Angela the details, though her knowing look said enough, and simply replied that she’d miss him and that she was sure the chief would happily reinstate him any time.

He should’ve known that information leaked through like a wildfire.

The morning of his resignment, uniform neatly folded in his locker, Lucy stopped him in the hallway with the most befuddled expression he’d ever seen.

“What?” he said.

“What the hell,” she exclaimed. “You’re leaving and I have to hear it from Angela? Why’re you…? You love this division. Is everything okay?”

Shouldering past her, he drawled over his shoulder: “Everything’s fine, officer Chen. I’d advise you to put on your uniform and get to roll call.”

“Don’t pull this crap with me,” she bit back, latching onto his arm before he was out of reach. His feet reflexively stopped in place, stupidly waiting on her to finish her train of thought. “Tim, you can tell me if something’s wrong. We’ve been through… way too much for you to act this cold with me.”

He scoffed, feigning mockery, and put his hands on his hips. “We? Chen, I was your TO. That’s it. Get it out of your head it was more.”

Lucy blinked, once, twice, a hurt expression crossing her features, followed by disbelief and a quiet contempt he had become awfully familiar with. Swallowing back the regret, he watched as she pursed her lips and took a step back. “Wow. Okay.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

“Hard not to, officer Bradford,” she muttered. Turning to the locker rooms, she added, “Talk to me when you’re ready to not be an asshole.”

That should’ve been his cue to let her go and resume his trek to sergeant Grey, but a whiff of her fragrance wafted in his face from her dancing curls and any sensical thought was knocked out his head. He wanted to embrace her and burrow his face in her hair, he wanted to hold her with intent, he wanted to kiss the scent off her skin. His feet followed her instead, both fully aware and totally impulsive at once. He chose the excuse of loving a good argument with her to then utter: “I’m not an asshole, Chen. I’m honest.”

“If you’re honest, you’d admit that we’ve been very close friends these past months,” she exhaled, refusing to look him in the eye. He supposed he deserved that. Stopping in front of her locker, she continued with, “Distorting your own reality to fit your macho narrative isn’t healthy. Also, this is the women’s locker room. Out. Now.”

Tim sputtered out a laugh and crossed his arms. “Macho narrative? Please.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed, all air sucked out the room at the intensity of her stare, and Tim felt himself flailing, suddenly wondering why the hell he wanted to turn in his badge when the only place he could have moments with lucy was, well, here. Why was he giving up on this, how silly it might be?

With a resolute voice, she said, “Tim, why are you resigning?”

Nothing in his entire career prepared him for this. Tim Bradford had survived Iraq and Afghanistan, twelve years of the LAPD and counting, a deadly virus, hundreds of bullets taken by the vest and felt the power of death on the blue lips of Lucy in the quiet countryside. Fear got pushed aside. Pride pulled him forward, onwards. But right now, he had to take a leap of faith — the sole thing he never relied on, but Lucy did — and trust she’d be there after the fall.

(He wanted to be that amazing someone for her.)

“Because of you,” he whispered. His fight or flight told him to run for the first time in forever, but he kept his feet glued to the floor.

Her jaw fell slack in shock. “E-excuse me? Me?! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Exactly,” he spit. “You… you’re…” Tim sighed. “You’re the best, Lucy.”

Faltering, her brows furrowed in utter confusion, a grain of her fury replaced with compassion. He wasn’t sure if that was warranted. All he was trying to do was get it off his chest, confess, before it escalated to insurmountable heights. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Uh…”

“You’re resigning, because I’m the best?” she tried to deduce. “No offense, any other day I’d be dancing right now, but this is just…” She gestured at him. “So weird.”

Tim let out a miserable sigh and ripped the band-aid off. Fuck it. “I’m trying to be honest about my feelings, Lucy.”

She froze. “What?”

“I like you. A lot.” Her wonderstruck expression didn’t make him feel better, so he quickly added: “Which is why I gotta decrease the risk of this exploding in our faces and go.”

“Whoa!” Lucy’s hand wrapped around his, eyes wide and searching, like any empirical data would be found within his green irises, otherwise known as fondness and unresolved tension with every quiet moment they had. “Is this… another test? Are you getting back at me for pranking you?”

He quirked a brow. “You’re a P2 now. Tests are over.”

“Right,” she quipped, catching herself. She let go of him and nervously tucked a lock behind her ear. “Yeah. Okay. And you’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. O-kay. Let me, uh…” the locker swung open “… wrap my head around this.”

“It’s a pretty easy thing to—”

“Tim.”

“Yeah, okay.” He backed off, hating how the control was out of his hands now, how he practically shoved his heart in her grip and her pretty fingers could crush it to dust if she wanted to. “I’ll let you do that.”

Walking out the locker room, he took a deep breath and straightened up his face. Alright. He royally screwed that over. If his army buddies knew, they’d all laugh in his face and tease him for the rest of his life. But at least he told her and got his answer, that a relationship was off the table but that they could save their friendship once he switched divisions and some distance mended his twisted, inside-out heart. Lucy had rocked his world and all she had to do was exist.

“Tim!”

“Wha— wow!”

Her body crashed into him the second he turned around to her beautiful voice, Lucy’s arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down to her level ‘til all he experienced were her sweet eyes and breathless smile and a kiss. Lucy kissing him, slow and tentative, but it lit his heart aflame and urged him to hold onto her. Her perfume was all-encompassing, nose full of the fragrance and the soft slope of her neck and long, brown hair and fuck, he was kissing Lucy Chen. Except he didn’t care if the entire precinct idly watched by, or if she yanked him out the building on impulse, or anything — ‘cause he was kissing her and it was perfect. Her plump lips were better than he ever imagined.

Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, arms and then his hands, squeezing. His forehead pressed against hers, embarrassingly weak in the knees from that incredible kiss that he didn’t dare to stand up straight. Two silly grins broke loose on their faces. He had no clue what to do now, or not do, but he did know he wanted her. He wanted everything.

Lucy decided for him.

“Don’t go,” she whispered.

Tim smiled. “Okay.”

#testing the waters... figuring out their voices... #chenford #the rookie fanfiction #the rookie x pablo neruda overlap is the funniest thing about this whole thing #the rookie

[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.   

#my writing #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #gonna try and get the next one written a bit quicker lmao