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liesmyth · 6 months

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I want to start running...any tips?

I WAS BORN TO ANSWER THIS QUESTION. Thank you so much for asking! Unfortunately, I am a nerd about my hobbies so this got quite long.

Keep it simple ✨

Running is easy to get into; our bodies are built for it. Don’t stress over technicalities and just do what feels natural to you. My local races are full of 70-something white-haired pensioners who are kicking ass at it. Don’t let anyone tell you that running is meant to feel like dying, that’ll harm your knees, or that you absolutely need to have that specific smartwatch model to get into it. All you need is a solid pair of shoes, everything else is optional.

Medium effort is the way to go

The ideal aerobic running pace is a speed at which you’re able to hold a conversation, even if a bit winded. NO faster. If you’re able to sing along to your playlist or chat with a friend, that’s your ideal running pace. If you’re gasping or wheezing, slow down! You’ll get a bit faster as your lung capacity gets better, but that shouldn’t be a priority unless you want to train for a race. You get most of the health benefits of running just by keeping up a steady, sustainable, conversational pace.

Walking breaks are fine, actually

That’s the reason why I don’t love C25K as a beginner program — the way it’s structured sort of implies that walking breaks are something you should grow out of to become a more experienced runner. If you need to walk for a bit, go ahead.

If possible, jogging is preferable, just because the mechanics of even a glacial-pace jog are more similar to running than those of a faster power walk, so you might try switching to a jog after a bit of a walking interval. But walking is not a failure; there are serious marathon training plans out there that use walk/run intervals as a viable strategy.

(Related: picking up speed helps you keep going! If you feel like you are completely drained, try speeding up for a very short interval, then slowing back down. It’ll often give you an energy boost to keep going)

Run for time, not distance ⌚

Especially for beginners, I find that getting fixated on numbers can be counter productive, and the most important thing is to listen to your body. If you’re aiming to hit a certain mileage, you might get the urge to speed up at the end to get done faster. Instead, set yourself time-based goals and end every run with a cool down jog or walk.

SHOES!! 👟

Good running shoes are essential, and pretty much the only fitness-related purchase on which I’ll always support dropping money. If you get to the point where you’re consistently running 10 km (6 miles) each week, you’ll want to go to a running store — the kind of place where you’ll get fitted, and they’ll have you try on models and jog on a treadmill to evaluate your gait and let you know which characteristics your ideal shoe needs. I can’t stress enough how useful running store staff can be. They’re all running club nerds who LOVE getting new people into running, and they really want to help you find your ideal fit. Also get good running socks while you’re at it.

Be prepared to drop at least 100€ (or equivalent currency) but they usually have a great return policy if the model isn’t a good fit for you. Take care of your running shoes — maintenance, wearing them only for running, gentle cleansing etc — and the cushioning will last for quite a while (600km / 370miles at least). If you decide that you hate running, they’re still great for walking around. Once you find your ideal shoe model, it gets a lot easier to shop for it during end-of-season sales, or looking for online bargains etc. I love stocking on end-of-series shoes and rotating them so they’ll last even longer, and I buy online quite often! Just make sure your FIRST pair is fitted, for ideal injury prevention and joint health.

Injury prevention 💪

I’d love to still be running 10k races when I’m 70, but it takes some care to get there. When you run, you’re slamming your body weight up and down with every stride, and that might be hard on your joints if you’re not used to it. If you’re completely new to running, cap your runs at 15/20 minutes every other day. Do that even if you feel like you could keep going! If you have a good aerobic base already, you need to give your joints time to catch up with you lung capacity, and give your body time to recover. Do bodyweight exercises like lunges and planks and glute bridges to strengthen your core, legs, and hips. Dynamic stretches are great for warmups, and static stretches are better for cooling down. If you have the option, running on softer surface like grass or dirt is better than asphalt, which is better than concrete and pavements.

(If nothing of what I’ve said here makes sense to you, shoot me another ask, or look at some of the resources I’ve linked down below!)

Don't get bored! 🎶

I love running in groups. Running clubs are great. You can learn so much in a hands-on way from seriously experienced people, you can chat about gossip over a running job, and you can make some interesting friends. If you don’t have access to a running community, then personally I love just chilling on a run by myself listening to an audiobook or podcast or exploring a certain area.

Running form❓

Don’t stress about it. Just go out and move your body. Attempting to modify your ‘running form’ too quickly can do more harm than good. There ARE a few things you could pay attention to — I recommend trying to focus on one of these at a time for a minute or so, and alternate between them. After a while, it’ll start to feel natural to keep track of all of them:

1. Don’t slouch! But a slight lean forward is great.

2. Keep your shoulders pulled down and your upper back tense.

3. Swinging your arms in a way that helps with your stride is good, but I shouldn’t feel forced.

4. Even breaths, inhaling through your mouth and expiring through your nose.

5. Take turns to check with every part of your body, and relax them in turn: are your jaw and neck too tense? Are your fists tight?

6. Don’t overstride! shorter strides with quicker leg turnover are better than huge strides that feel awkward to you.

7. Use your glutes to drive up the motion of your legs, not just your quads. This can take a while to get used to, but it’s a game-changer.

8. ENGAGE YOUR CORE. This is a great skill to develop whether you work out or are just existing in the world — basically, let your inner abdominal muscles help you carry your weight forward. This is VERY intuitive once you know how to do it, but it’s hard to get a grasp of it if you don’t know what it means, so here are some resources about it.

an extremely fucking comprehensive article that improved my life and eased my big-boobs back pain

similar content but in video form

a running-specific form video

Personally, learning to do this made me feel like I unlocked a superpower. Go forth and brace.

Accessories and tips 🤓

Like I said above, the only thing I really suggest spending money on for real is running shoes. Everything else is details! However, I’m nothing if not wordy I have Thoughts about those details, too.

Run tracking: I suggest downloading Runkeeper if you want to keep track of your runs — it’s free, intuitive, and solid! If you decide to get into wearables, a low-level Garmin >>>>> anything else.

Self-care: use sunscreen and/or thick face cream as needed. Stop to sip at a public fountain if needed. Get a small fanny pack to hold your phone, keys, or lip balm if needed. If chafing is an issue, anti-glide gel is relatively affordable.

Outfits etc: I get all my running gear and clothes from Decathlon — they are in most countries and ship worldwide. I especially love this thermal shirt for colder weather

Safety: if you’re running on the road, make sure to run in the opposite direction from traffic and to wear something bright. If you run with headphones near traffic, keep the volume down, or get over-the-ear conductor headsets. I love shokz, they're fantastic.

Post-run snack: eating something small and carb-heavy within 30 mins of a workout is great for kickstarting recovery. I love dried fruit personally.

Various resources 📝

Routine basics: check out the r/running order of operations, which is a great “how to” guide to building a basic running routine. I also recommend that subreddit's wiki! Running programming gets exponentially more involved the more advanced you get, etc — if you ever have any questions, hit me up!

Dynamic stretching warmup: a quick leg swing workout to get your legs ready to go. If you’re feeling overachieving, here’s a lunge warmup routine and a how-to bodyweight squat video.

Cooldown routine! Check out Strength and Mobility, a great post-run quick cooldown routine that includes some bodyweight exercises to strengthen your hips and core. Video included.

that's all, folks! 🏃‍♀️

Sorry I got carried away! I love running. I love getting people into running. My mental health, cardiovascular system and my popping quads also love running. But FYI, some people hate running and that's also fine! If you decide it’s not for you, find something you like more. There are a lot of misconceptions out there and a lot of guilt-tripping and body shame-y rhetoric around exercising, especially aimed at women, and I want to make clear it’s all bullshit. Just have fun <3

#Anonymous #ask #jockposting #running #fitblr #exercise tips #running basics #exercise #runblr #long post #for reference I mostly run in brooks ghosts but I use the levitate for speedwork and more intense long runs #I stock whenever there's a sale on runnea or runningwarehouse or whatever #pinned

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lesservillain · 3 months

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alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader

cw: omegaverse dynamics, knotting, bonding/marking, breeding kink, unprotected piv, semi public, mutual pining

wc:~5.7k

Music plays at a low hum from the small radio at your desk. The only station that comes in clear has been taken over by Christmas music since Thanksgiving break. Not even Wham!’’s Last Christmas was giving the same sense of relief after hearing it every day for almost a month now.

Despite the winter wonderland outside, you still seek out the coolness of your water bottle against your skin, the chill helping to ease the flush that’s been making you sweat like it was mid July in Texas. You’d even cracked the window behind your desk in hopes that the fallen snow would help with your elevated body temperature. But you knew that all of your efforts were for nothing. That no matter how cold you made it, there was really only one thing that would actually be able to ease the discomfort that you felt spreading under your skin; the burden of being an omega in this world.

Ever since you split with your ex this past spring you’ve been having to deal with your heats on your own. It's not impossible for an omega to go through heats without an alpha to ease the pain, but when you go cold turkey after years of having someone there to satisfy the overwhelming biological need to mate, it can take a huge toll on any omega.

Science has made leaps and bounds over the last 20 years to improve suppressants for both alphas and omegas. They’re not perfect by any means, but they’re better than dealing with the intense urges that you feel when that time of the month comes.

The current suppressants you're taking are…experimental. Mixed with a birth control that’s supposed to be able to stop even the swimmers of an alpha in rut from reaching an egg of an omega they’ve marked. They were suggested by your doctor as a preventative, since omegas after losing their long alpha tend to subconsciously scent to seek out a replacement.

And they worked really well the first few months, not having a heat for nearly half a year. But the added stress of moving to a new town on your own and starting a new job where you were constantly playing catch up after inheriting a mess from the school’s previous nurse, your heat came back full swing within the first month of the school year. The dizziness, increased appetite, a dull ache in your lower back, and hot flashes put you out for three days before you could get a suppressant strong enough to make you functional again.

Now you’re having your winter heat, which, so far, has been much tamer by comparison thanks to the increased dose of your medication. But the combination of your heat with the influx of students seeing you due to peak flu and strep season, your body has been practically screaming at you by the end of each day this week to go home and relax.

The sudden overzealous opening of your office door takes your attention off your sweltering body. The all too familiar voice of Mr. Harrington calls out “Helloooo, nurse!” as he occupies the space in the doorway.

Steve Harrington was one of the school’s sophomore history teachers, as well as the football and basketball coach and the leader of the Student Achievement program. All of the staff, and probably some of the students, swoon over him at any given moment, his presence never missed due to the air that surrounds him. Unfortunately you’re not immune to his charms either. In fact, the natural attraction between the two of you was palpable at times, regardless of how much you try to ignore it.

Steve could feel it, too. And maybe it was the way his alpha brain was wired, but his flirty personality is jacked up to 10 whenever you’re around. It’s not on purpose, at least not in a conscious way. His amazing hair, the way his clothes hugged his toned body, and his almost unnaturally handsome face made him the poster child for the perfect alpha partner.

Well, perfect except for the fact that he’s the clumsiest man you’ve ever met in your life, leaving your office at least once a week with a Strawberry Shortcake bandaid after giving himself a paper cut or an ice pack on his head when a ball hits him in the face.

Despite his accident-prone nature, Steve is a highly desired, single alpha in his prime. And with you being the only unclaimed adult omega in the building, it’s put a huge target on your back for your jealous coworkers who think they have a shot with him. To remedy this, you’ve maintained a firm level of professionalism and platonic friendliness at all times with him, despite his flirty personality testing your willpower.

His intoxicating scent invades your senses sending a wave of warmth to wash over you before you can even give him a quick glance. You pull at the collar of your blouse willing the air to cool down your shirt. “You feeling okay there, nurse? You look a little flushed. Or are you just that happy to see me?”

“Mr.Harrington,” you say flatly, following with teasing sarcasm as you continue looking over your paperwork, “I was starting to worry you weren’t going to see me this week. Thought you’d finally broken your streak of bad luck.” He lets out an airy chuckle that makes the sides of your lips threaten to curl.

“Oh, honey, you know I can’t stay away from you.” He means it. He would fake appendicitis if it gave him a greater chance to be doted on by you. To get closer to you. “I would have been in here sooner if I hadn’t been glued to my desk all week getting grades in before break,” he says, voicing his grievances that were the result of his own negligence.

“I see,” you hum, continuing with the sarcastic tone. “I guess I won’t have to replenish my box of bandaids just yet.”

“Weelll,” he draws out, “All that sitting time must have built up my bad luck, because, uh, I think this one may need more than just a bandaid.”

When you finally lift your eyes from your desk, they almost bulge out of their sockets at the sight of him. Where you initially thought his arms were just crossed, you see his right hand is actually covering his left bicep, blood staining down the sleeve of his light and navy blue striped dress shirt. The lack of urgency in his tone had you thinking nothing was wrong, but of course Steve Harrington would find the time to flirt with you while he’s bleeding.

Tossing your water bottle on the desk and jumping up from your seat, you practically fly across the room to assess the damage, pulling his hand away to find a tear in the sleeve and blood spread messily on his skin underneath.

“Oh my goodness, what happened?” You ask with concern, pulling him into the office by the hand and leading him to a cot, shutting the door behind you.

“Mrs.Harmon asked if I could stay and help set up stuff around the auditorium for the choir performance tonight,” he explained as you pulled at the material of his sleeve, trying and failing and get a better look at the wound, “and I accidentally knocked a shelf off the wall while trying to get the decorations out. I moved fast enough that it didn’t crush me, but it did knick me a little.”

“A little! Mr.Harrington—” you start with a stern tone, preparing your normal lecture to him about being safe.

“Steve,” he corrects with a smug grin, insisting that you call him by his first name since you’ve met.

“Mr.Harrington,” you repeat like a warning, trying to remain professional when he’s so close to you. It’s hard when he’s staring at your face with those big hazel eyes as he watches your face scrunch in frustration while you fiddle with his shirt. A shirt that’s straining to stay together around his large bicep, leaving no give for you to get a better look at his wound.

Losing your will to argue with him, your hands rest to your hips with a sigh. “Can you, just, slip your arm out of the sleeve, please?”

“Of course,” he says with faux seriousness as you can see his all too satisfied smile, rolling your eyes at him.

Turning on your heel, you walk a few feet to grab the things from the supply cabinet to treat his wound. Your back is turned to him as you fill your arms with gauze, tape, cotton balls, and anything else you may need for a cut that large.

“You know, you’re probably the clumsiest alpha I’ve ever met,” you tease as you turn to face him again, “Sometimes I think you get hurt on purpose just to see m—“

The rest of your remark dies on your tongue as your mouth goes dry. Taking liberties with your request, you watch Mr.Harrington completely remove his shirt, dropping it on the cot behind him and facing you once more. The white under tank he’s wearing leaves little to the imagination as it hugs his broad chest tightly, thinning the material and making it almost see through. His skin still has the last lingering tint of the tan he was sporting on the first day of school, and different sized freckles and moles decorate his body like constellations in the sky. You’ve never seen so much of him all at once, head feeling fuzzy as you drink him in.

“I think you might be drooling a bit there, Ms. Nurse,” he says pointing to the corner of his own mouth to further his teasing. But you can barely hear him, the words muffled as your ears start to ring and your vision tilts as if you’d been drinking. The boil you’d been dealing with all day felt like a slight shimmer as your fever suddenly spikes, your body on fire as the scent coming from his newly exposed skin has you reeling.

The supplies you’re holding dropped to the floor, freeing your hands to grasp at the counter behind you. Steve rushes to your side, wrapping an arm around you and easing you to the ground. He barely makes it without dropping to his knees himself, the smell of your pheromones hitting him like a brick.

“H-hey, what do you need,” you hear him ask, but you can hardly register the words as his scent in close proximity only spurs your heat on more. Even with your clothes covering your skin, the touch of his hand on your waist and the one he’s rested on your knee make you crave more of him in a carnal way, the urgent need to close the gap between the two of you has your body shifting until you’re on your knees and crawling towards him.

His hands hover in the air, slightly trembling as you lean into him. He falls back on his ass as you get closer until you’re practically laying on him, rubbing against him with your face like a cat. “I need you, Steve,” you purr. He takes a sharp breath in through gritted teeth as your hand drifts lower, lower, until your fingers land on the very prominent bulge straining against his deep blue slacks. “Shit,” his head snaps back at the contact, before dropping back down to look at you with hungry eyes.

“What happened to keeping it professional?” He tries to joke, unsure if this is all just a test from the universe to see how he would react to having his nightly fantasies come true. And while Steve may be resilient in many ways, he wasn’t sure if he could hold back with the way you’re looking up at him through your lashes as if he’d hung the moon and the stars. The scent of his musk permeates the room as he gives into your needs, his desires, letting the primal urges he’s been pushing down since the day he met you front in his mind.

If you were in a different state of mind you probably would have laughed at his comment. But the intense ache that bloomed between your legs as all your senses start to leave your body has you whimpering against his chest.

Strong arms scoop you up swiftly, tossing you down on the cot and pulling the privacy curtain behind him. In the split second he was away from you, you managed to grab his discarded shirt and pull it to your nose, inhaling his lingering scent. It was like a drug that you couldn’t get enough of, your thighs rubbing together and hips moving against air as your body seeks out any kind of relief for the ache.

Suddenly, the shirt is torn from your grasp roughly. You cry out, hands reaching out aimlessly before they’re being grasped tightly around the wrists and pinned to the bed. The cot dips as a weight wedges its way between your legs, pressing against your core in a way that has you instantly bucking against it with reckless abandon, your clouded mind only thinking about satisfying the throb in your core.

“God, look at the mess you’re making on my thigh already,” Steve says with a low growl, watching you use him in a pathetic attempt to relieve yourself. The grit in his voice hits every nerve in your body on its way from your ear drums to your cunt.

“You smell so fucking sweet,” he groans as he brings your wrist to his nose and inhales, “Like vanilla or honey, o-or something better,” he stammers. He leans over you, hot tongue licking a thick stripe from your collar bone to behind your ear, lightly biting the lobe and pulling, goosebumps rising on your skin. His hair is just as soft as you imagined it would be as it tickles your cheek, a sharp contrast to the way his teeth bite at your neck, his tongue soothing over the skin.

You press your cheek into him, whining his name right into his ear, practically begging him to put you out of your misery. He releases one of your hands to grab your face, lips pursing together, making you look him in the eyes. His pupils fully blown out and close enough that you can see your own fucked out reflection in them.

“Listen to me,” he says, swallowing, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. “I’ve been wanting to do this for five fucking months. Five long months of fucking my fist to the thought of getting you under me just like this, making you a mess and having you beg for me.” He takes a deep breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as the last bit of his resolve begins to waver. “So if we do this, you’re mine from now on, got it? No more of this back and forth, pretending you don’t want me as much as I want you bullshit. Once I start…I’m not going to be able to stop. Do you understand?”

There’s no hesitation with how quickly you try to nod your head against his grip. The heat coming off of your cheeks warms the tips of his fingers. “Nuh-uh,” he tuts, giving you a little shake, “Need to hear it. Tell me you want this.”

“Want you, Steve. Need you. Need your cock, please, please please.”

He curses under his breath before his lips crash into yours. The kiss is hot and heavy right off the bat as teeth clash and tongues dance together in desperation. Your free hand finds its way into his perfect hair, pulling slightly at the nape, eliciting a moan from him that you catch as it leaves his lips.

Steve pulls away from you with a wild look in his eyes. Both of his strong hands release their hold on you so that he could rip open the front of your blouse, sending buttons flying and hitting the floor with a clatter. His mouth is back on you, nipping and biting the skin while his hands pull your tits free from the cups of your bra.

Mouth moving at lightning speed, he hungrily takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and tonguing the bud while needing at your other breast with his hand. His eyes are glassy when they look up at you, half lidded and unfocused, drool dribbles down your breast from his mouth.

Everything next happens so quickly you can barely register it. Steve pulls away from you completely, standing up fully to rip your pants down your legs. Once he throws them to the floor, he’s making quick movements to undo his own pants, his right thigh drenched from the slick that had soaked through while grinding against him.

His cock is so hard that the pressure against the crotch of his pants has the zipper undoing itself once he frees the button. Wasting no time, he shucks down his slacks and boxers in one go, his large cock and heavy balls now on full display for you, the sight making your eyes widen in surprise—and maybe fear?

Alphas are known to be bigger than even a well endowed beta, and omegas are built to handle the size of an alpha’s better than a beta can, but the size of the Steve’s cock less than a foot from your face has you mesmerized at the sheer size of it. But while your mind may be in shock, your pussy has a mind of its own, slick dripping in anticipation for the stretch you’d be receiving. Even in his large hands it looked massive, bigger than any alpha you’d been with before.

You sit up in the bed slightly, reaching out to take him in your hand, your fingers barely able to wrap around him as you stroke the angry red tip. He curses under his breath as you let your hand roll over the tip, feeling the veins against the skin of your palm with each stroke.

A little bead of precum bubbles at the tip and something in your mind snaps. Your mouth is on him in an instant, any sense you may have had left is completely gone out the window when that salty taste hits your tongue.

“Fuck, look at you,” he cooes, followed by a guttural moan at the sight of you trying to take as much of him in your mouth as you can. “Such a good girl. Trying your best to take me in that pretty little mouth of yours, huh?” His words egg you as you continue to suckle at his tip, lapping up any of his spend that leaks out as you keep pumping at his shaft.

You want to keep going, want to be good for him, but ache between your legs is becoming unbearable the longer you go on. Slick is slipping down your thighs, a puddling forming under you on the sheets as your body involuntarily preps itself to take Steve’s massive cock. You look up at him with teary eyes, lifting your ass in the air as a silent plea for him to take you like the bitch in heat that you are.

And as much as he’s loving watching you pitifully mouth his cock, seeing you present yourself for him turns off the evolved parts of his brain, leaving him to run on primal instincts only.

Grabbing you by the throat, he manhandles you onto your back and positions you so your ass on the edge of the cot. Your legs fall to the sides, opening as wide as you can get them, pussy on full display and ready to be taken.

“Hoooooo, fuck,” Steve shudders, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt, hole clenching around nothing, begging for him to fill it up. He runs his fingers through your folds to collect some of your arousal, barely brushing over your throbbing clit. He brings his fingers to his mouth, shoulders slumping in satisfaction.

“Damnit, of course you taste sweet, too. Can’t wait til I can get you in my mouth,” he says with a slight slur.

You panic for a moment, unsure if you could wait any longer for him to finally be inside you. As if he can read you like a book, he lets out a soft chuckle, taking his cock in his hand and pumping it slowly. “Don’t you worry, baby girl, I’m not gonna keep you waiting any more. Next time, though…”

The sticky tip of his cock taps your clit, sending shock waves throughout your body with every touch. It’s too much and not enough all at once. His name falls from your lips, and he shushes you in return, lining himself up with your entrance.

The breach of his tip stretching you wide is like a shot of morphine in an IV drip, your body becoming numb and a live wire at the same time, replacing the pain with a fuzzy haze all over.

Steve watches the way your face contorts with pleasure as hips rock back and forth slowly. His teeth bite down on his bottom lip, trying his hardest to hold back so you can get used to his size, but the vice grip you have on his cock has him quickly losing his resolve. Body falling over you, he brackets your head between his forearms as he finally folds. His breath fanning over your face has your eyes fluttering open. Met with the most divine visual of Steve’s pinched brow, scrunched up nose, and slack jaw fill your vision entirely. Your breath is punched from your lungs as he makes that final thrust, bottoming out inside of you with a shuddered whimper.

“Oh, my god,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in closer. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, rubbing his face against your skin, marking you with his scent. He begins to move, setting a pace that makes every thrust feel like heaven, the tightness of your walls amplifying every ridge and bump of his cock as it drags back and forth. “Fuck, Steve, you’re so big,” you whine, “Never felt so full be-fore!” The last syllable comes out as a gasp as he thrusts into you hard, spurred on by your words.

His arms wrap around you tightly, laying all of his upper body weight against you to pin you in place so he can fuck into mercilessly. The feeling is mind melting, nonsense words mixed with repeating his name over and over fall from your mouth with each punch of his cock against your cervix. Each thrust hits that spot inside of you dead on, throttling you towards the edge quicker than your mind can handle in your current fucked out state.

“Fuuuuck,” Steve’s voice is strained next to your ear, thrusts slowing as you “Don’t squeeze so tight, baby, I don’t wanna cum yet.”

His words have the opposite effect on you as your whole body trembles beneath him, cumming so hard his cock your vision goes white. Your chest presses into his as your back arches off the mattress, the skin to skin friction against your hardened nipples stimulating you more as he fucks you through your high.

He lifts his head to watch you come undone with a wide eyed, feral look. He’s panting, too, with a string of saliva from his tongue to the skin of your shoulder where he had latched on, the skin red and already speckling with broken blood vessels.

“You’re so pretty when you cum on my cock like that,” he says with heavy breaths, “Wanna see you do it again, and again, and again,” he babbles, leaning in to trail kisses along your jaw, continuing to thrust into you harder and harder, in his own world now. You can only cling to him as he ruts into you, nails scratching down his back. “Gonna fuck you over and over and over until it takes. Big, round belly on full display for everyone to see. You gonna tell everyone Mr.Harrington got you pregnant when you can’t hide it anymore? What will all the other teachers think?”

“Fuck, Steve, please.”

“What is it, baby? Tell me what you want.”

“Want it, Steve. Want your knot.”

“Oh, is that right?”

Suddenly, he pulls away and out of you completely. It’s such a shock to the system you can help but cry out at the loss of him. But the vacancy doesn’t last long, his strong arms lifting and flipping you with ease until you’re face down into the mattress, ass being propped up on shaky legs so he can bottom out in you once more.

This new angle changed everything. A wanton moan feels like it was being pushed out of you as it felt like his cock was in your lungs. One hand grabs a hold of your hip while the other pushes down on the back of your neck, effectively pinning you down so he can pick back up his brutal pace. There was no rhythm to his thrusts, driven purely on animalistic instincts as he chases his own pleasure, using you as a means to get him there.

“You want my knot, huh?” The question is rhetorical, said in the heat of the moment as he feels his peak nearing. “Want me to give you my knot and really knock you up? I’ll ruin you for any other alphas that think they have a chance. Cause you’re mine now, aren’t you, sweet girl? No other alpha’s gonnna fuck you like I can, right?”

“No-no, Steve! Don’t want anyone else! Only want your knot! Please, please!” Your eyes lull as he fucks you stupid, mouth parted open as you drool onto the sheets.

His weight shifts, trailing kisses down your back until he gets to that spot on the back of your neck. A chill runs down your spine as his teeth scrape against the skin over your scent gland. “Well, if that’s the case…Guess you wouldn’t mind if I held you to that, right?”

The primal part of your brain is screaming for him to do it; mark you and make you his, permanently. The logical side fights for dominance, reminding you that you never wanted to be owned by an alpha, which is why you and your ex broke up in the first place. But the way he was making you feel right now had you second guessing all your morals. He hums over you, lips lingering against your skin as he speaks.

Before you could answer, his hips were stilling inside you, the base of his cock swelling as he pumped you full with his spend. It would have been painful if it didn’t trigger the release of oxytocin in your body, making you cum with him. Your legs start to give out, but his hold on you tightens as his spend continues to spill into you., the His body shakes above you, chest heaving as tries to catch his breath.

The two of you take a moment to come down from your highs. The air around you feels electric as the two of you become one, his knot settling within your walls snuggly, the steady stream of Steve’s cum filling you to the brim until you couldn’t possibly take anymore. He rests his head over your scent gland, rubbing his face against it out of comfort while you still emit that sweet, sweet smell.

Everything feels right in the moment, until it’s interrupted by a knock and an intruding aroma. To you, it smells like smokey wood and cinnamon, but to Steve, it’s a threat. The smell of another alpha trying to get near his omega and claim her over him. You can feel his body tense up, breathing picking up in a panic, lips pressing against the skin as his mind races.

“Steve?” You say his name meekly. There’s a short pause between you, a split second before you feel it, his teeth clamping down on your skin. It’s like every nerve in your body lights up all at once. The sensation is powerful it makes you cum again, clamping down on Steve’s still hard cock buried inside of you. The moan he lets out against you is pornographic, teeth still clinging to your skin tightly as his saliva mixes with your body’s natural scent.

“Hey, everything okay in there?” The muffled voice calls from the other side of the door.

“Get the fuck out of here, Eddie!” Steve yells out to the janitor, another alpha that you’d seen in passing, pinching your skin as he does his best to keep his teeth on you. It’s quiet for a moment, and you think that Eddie left until you hear a loud, booming laugh, and a faint “About damn time!” as the new smell starts to dissipate.

Steven feels your body jolt slightly beneath him and refocuses his attention on you. You do it again with an audible snort. At first he thinks you might be crying, guilt creeping in as he’s realized what he’s done to you. But as you get louder, it’s clear that you are actually laughing.

“Was tho funneh?” He asks, drooling down onto your back.

“I don’t know,” you say through fits of giggles. “I think I’m losing my mind.”

“Thounds like et,” he says, laughing along with you.

“Sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting any of this.” Your body shifts under him, growing uncomfortable in the position you were in. Steve senses this, releasing your skin and licking your wounds so that, with careful maneuvering, he’s able to get both of you comfortably on your sides. He wraps his arms and legs around you, holding you close to his strong chest, eyeing his handiwork of his mark as you rest your head on his arm.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” he says softly, kissing the back of your head. “If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I took things too far…But if I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t regret it.”

It could be the residual high from your heat, or the change in your brain chemistry from his mark, or just the fact that you’ve been pushing down how much you really wanted this with him from the moment your hands touched when you both went for the same bagel at the first staff meeting over the summer, but you couldn’t deny that you didn’t regret it either.

For so long you’ve been in denial, trying to ignore that he was the reason your suppressants stopped working because you wanted him so badly that your body was rejecting them when he was around. Denying how happy you get when he brings you coffee in the morning, or how much you look forward to when he sits with you during his lunch period to talk about whatever shenanigans his multitude of friends get into, or how the whole reason you started this heat was because he let you sit in the passenger seat of his BMW while he jumped your car after work on Tuesday, the inside smelling so overwhelmingly like him that you had to jump out and rush straight to your car before you ended up jumping him in the middle of the parking lot.

“Steve?” You request his attention just above a whisper, breaking the silence between you. He hums quizzically, resting his cheek against yours. “Did you really need to grade papers this week, or have you been avoiding me this week because you knew I was going through a heat?”

His cheek vibrates against yours as he chuckles from his throat. “You’re so smart, you know that, right?” He kisses your cheek before settling back with his head on the pillow, forehead resting against the back of your head.

As the two of you lay there you ask him a million questions, picking his brain to its fullest extent with this new closeness the two of you share. Really, you just like the sound of his voice, but he does say a few things here and there that make you belly laugh.

“Don’t do that,” he laughs along with you, “We’re never going to come undone if you keep squeezing me like that!”

“I can’t help it,” you wipe a tear from your eye, trying your hardest to suppress your giggles.

Thirty minutes pass and Steve’s knot finally goes down enough that he can pull out of you. It feels like a part of you is missing now that he’s no longer occupying you after so long. Hot, sticky cum pours from you like a storm drain onto the sheet below. With a sigh, you make a mental note to add new sheets on your list of things to replace, right under a new box of bandaids.

Oh, shit. Steve’s arm.

As he starts to gather the discarded clothes on the floor, you see that that blood has dried up and mostly rubbed off after everything. After the two of you redress, you wearing Steve’s button up after he made your blouse no longer wearable, not that you were complaining as the need to nest was starting to kick in, you cared for his wound. Just a cut left behind that would be okay with a little disinfecting and a few steristrips.

“You forgot the most important part,” he says with a shake of his head as you place the last strip on his arm. You tilt your head at him in confusion, a smile forming on his face as he looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Aren’t you gonna kiss it better?”

#steve harrington #alpha!steve harrington #alpha!steve harrington x omega!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fan fic #steve harrington stranger things #teacher!steve harrington #teacher!steve harrington x nurse!reader

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republicansaredomesticterrorists · 3 days

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“Failed presidential candidate Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) signed a bill late last week barring Florida localities from requiring employers to provide outdoor workers with access to water, rest and shade, outraging workplace safety advocates who say the new law will kill people.

Backed by the agricultural and construction industries, the controversial legislation is what’s known as a “preemption” law: It forbids cities and counties from pursuing their own ordinances on a particular subject, in this case protections from extreme heat.

The law effectively nullifies a proposal in Miami-Dade County that would require some employers to maintain a heat safety program and provide employees with water and shade on hot days. The county commission recently withdrew the proposal after the state legislation put its legality in doubt.

The preemption bill recently passed the Republican-controlled state House and Senate, along with a similar measure that prevents jurisdictions from requiring employers to pay livable wages on government-funded projects.

Unions and other progressive groups said blocking heat regulations would endanger farm and construction workers and anyone else who labors in one of the hottest states in the country.

“Someone is going to die as a result of this legislation,” Kim Smith, a telecommunications technician, told HuffPost last month.

Last year, Texas Republicans passed a similar preemption bill that blocked localities from implementing heat protections as well as other ordinances related to housing and labor. The legislation, known as Texas’ “death star bill,” appeared designed to thwart local laws in Austin and Dallas that guaranteed water breaks for workers.

The bill Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) just signed blocks jurisdictions like Miami-Dade County from implementing their own heat safety standards.

The bill Gov. Ron DeSantis (R) just signed blocks jurisdictions like Miami-Dade County from implementing their own heat safety standards. SOPA IMAGES VIA GETTY IMAGES

Florida Republicans pushing for the preemption law said they wanted to avoid a “patchwork” of local regulations around the state related to heat safety, arguing the matter was better left to the federal Occupational Safety and Health Administration.

But OSHA does not yet have a heat-specific safety rule, and proposals to create a uniform, statewide standard in Florida have gone nowhere over the years because of a lack of Republican support.

More than 430 workers have died due to environmental heat exposure since 2011, according to OSHA. But relatively few jurisdictions have laws in place that require employers to provide water, shade and heat safety training. Just three — California, Oregon and Washington — mandate heat breaks for outdoor workers. Minnesota has heat standards for indoor workers, while Colorado does for farmworkers.

“Overheating is one of the most common and most serious dangers in the workplace,” Rep. Alma Adams (D-N.C.), who recently co-authored a federal bill ordering OSHA to regulate heat exposure, told HuffPost. “Is requiring a glass of water and some shade too much to ask?”

Climate change is making heat waves both more intense and more frequent, raising fears that a growing number of workers could die if governments don’t implement safety measures.

A farmworker in Miami-Dade County died last July during what would become the hottest month ever recorded. The man’s family told NBC South Florida that he’d recently suffered symptoms consistent with heat stress. A farmworker in the county told HuffPost last month that the foreman at the plant nursery where he works prohibited even 30-second breaks in the blazing sun since this is the busiest growing season for exotic flora.

The Biden administration is currently crafting a federal heat safety standard through OSHA, but federal rules take years to develop, often face litigation and can be undermined by subsequent administrations. Former President Donald Trump could simply drop pursuit of the rule if he defeats Biden in their expected rematch in November.”

#ron desatan #republican assholes #maga morons #republicans kill the working man-literally kill them

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afeelgoodblog · 1 year

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The Best News of Last Year

1. Belgium approves four-day week and gives employees the right to ignore their bosses after work

Workers in Belgium will soon be able to choose a four-day week under a series of labour market reforms announced on Tuesday.

The reform package agreed by the country's multi-party coalition government will also give workers the right to turn off work devices and ignore work-related messages after hours without fear of reprisal.

"We have experienced two difficult years. With this agreement, we set a beacon for an economy that is more innovative, sustainable and digital. The aim is to be able to make people and businesses stronger," Belgian prime minister Alexander de Croo told a press conference announcing the reform package.

2. Spain makes it a crime for pro-lifers to harass people outside abortion clinics

Spain has criminalized the harassment or intimidation of women going for an abortion under new legislation approved on Wednesday by the Senate. The move, which involved changes to the penal code, means anti-abortion activists who try to convince women not to terminate their pregnancies could face up to a year behind bars.

3. House passes bill to federally decriminalize marijuana

The House has voted with a slim bipartisan majority to federally decriminalize marijuana. The vote was 220 to 204.

The bill, sponsored by Democratic Rep. Jerry Nadler of New York, will prevent federal agencies from denying federal workers security clearances for cannabis use, and will allow the Veterans’ Administration to recommend medical marijuana to veterans living with posttraumatic stress disorder.

The bill also expunges the record of people convicted of non-violent cannabis offenses, which House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer said, “can haunt people of color and impact the trajectory of their lives and career indefinitely.”

4. France makes birth control free for all women under 25

The scheme, which could benefit three million women, covers the pill, IUDs, contraceptive patches and other methods composed of steroid hormones.

Contraception for minors was already free in France. Several European countries, including Belgium, Germany, the Netherlands and Norway, make contraception free for teens.

5. The 1st fully hydrogen-powered passenger train service is now running in Germany. The only emissions are steam & condensed water.

Five of the trains started running in August. Another nine will be added in the coming months to replace 15 diesel trains on the regional route. Alstom says the Coradia iLint has a range of 1,000 kilometers, meaning that it can run all day on the line using a single tank of hydrogen. A hydrogen filling station has been set up on the route between Cuxhaven, Bremerhaven, Bremervörde and Buxtehude.

6. Princeton will cover all tuition costs for most families making under $100,000 a year, after getting rid of student loans

In September, the New Jersey Ivy League school announced it would be expanding its financial aid program to offer free tuition, including room and board, for most families whose annual income is under $100,000 a year. Previously, the same benefit was offered to families making under $65,000 a year. This new income limit will take effect for all undergraduates starting in the fall of 2023.

Princeton was also the first school in the US to eliminate student loans from its financial aid packages.

7. Humpback whales no longer listed as endangered after major recovery

Humpback whales will be removed from Australia's threatened-species list, after the government's independent scientific panel on threatened species deemed the mammals had made a major recovery. Humpback whales will no longer be considered an endangered or vulnerable species.

Climate change and fishing still pose threats to their long-term health.

Some other uplifting news from last year:

A Cancer Trial’s Unexpected Result: Remission in Every Patient

California 100 percent powered by renewables for first time

Israel formally bans LGBTQ conversion therapy

Tokyo Passes Law to Recognize Same-Sex Partnerships

First 100,000 KG Removed From the Great Pacific Garbage Patch

As we ring in the New Year let’s remember to focus on the good news. May this be a year of even more kindness and generosity. Wishing everyone a happy and healthy 2023!

Thank you for following and supporting this g this newsletter

Buy me a coffee ❤️

#best news of last week

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ravencincaide · 4 months

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Happy unhappy home!

Summar: Soukou think you may be suffering from postpartum depression. Something you strongly disagree with. How dare they suggest you’re an incompetent mother and a threat to your children when they haven’t been around for months! Surely, they must have a different agenda behind their accusation?

Pairing: New parents! Dazai x Chuuya x Fem! Reader! (SKK x Fem! reader)

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 12: Chaste Kiss

Warnings: Cursing, Postpartum depression, light hint at maternal filicide, angst and disappointment, angst

Author note: An independent part two for Desperate times call for Desperate measures. Check that fic out if you’d like more angst, new parents and see more of what happened before this scene!

Enjoy

______________________________________________________________

The alarm was ringing.

It had been ringing for the past twenty minutes. A dull monotone sound that had reached its maximum amplitude sometime between minute five and eight, leaving the clock to just screech and nervously buzz closer and closer to the dresser's edge. Another loud ring followed by metallic duns as the clock jumped to its death off the bedside table, finally growing silent.

Slowly you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, forcing your eyes open. You ran your hands over your face, heaving a heavy exhausted sigh. You were literally keeping your eyelids open with your fingers to prevent them from shutting and falling back asleep inside the hard spare bed in the shoesize room. You felt so-so drained and yet you had gotten a decent six hours of uninterrupted rest last night. Without Dazai or Chuuya craving your attention or bringing the twins to you when they became too much.

Truly six hours of sleep was a miracle.

Though now that morning came all you felt was a dull frustration. At that moment you did not know what was worse; the fact that you had to get up and face the day. Starting with preparing breakfast for the twins and your lovers, or the mild annoyance of having to go and buy yet another bloody alarm clock.

At least the babies weren’t fussing. Yet.

With great effort you dragged yourself out of bed and haphazardly put some day-old clothes on. Hair up in a bun while on the toilet and a quick wash of your face with cold water and you were ready to get started in the kitchen. You needed to put up coffee, blitz some fruit and think about a more adult-suitable breakfast. Porridge was hated by both Dazai and Chuuya but approved by the babies, while omelet was liked by no one but you. Yet another day of sandwiches was out of the option. That left you with pancakes. Glancing at the clock in the living room on your way to the kitchen, you hurriedly picked up your pace.

Pancakes were doable- if you hurried up.

Once you got to the kitchen you let out a low groan of frustration. The sink was full of bottles from the nightly feedings wedged between midnight snack dishes and crusty cups of coffee that had finally made their way out of your partner's room and into the kitchen sink. The espresso machine was demanding a new water filter, and you did not even want to think what the splotches and sticky mess on the counter and kitchen table were.

For a second you didn’t know where to start- then as stress set in you felt your body come alive. You were practically tearing yourself between doing dishes, making the pancake batter and wiping the counter. When the two non-stick pans on the stove were warming up, you ran the cleaning program on the espresso machine. Then as the pancakes fried, you wiped the table and blitzed fruit for the babies. You set up cups, cutlery and plates in between flipping the pancakes.

Just as the first batch of pancakes were finished and the coffee machine was brewing the first cup, you heard the heavy shuffling of feet into the kitchen. You ignored them as you proceeded to whip up another batch of pancakes- realizing you made far too little to feed double black. Halfway through cracking the eggs, you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.

“You’re up early, Sweets” Chuuya yawned in your ear before placing a chase kiss on your shoulder.

“Morning” you replied dryly, moving out of the embrace. You were fully focused on flipping the pancakes with one hand while mixing the batter with the second. “Coffee’s ready I think” you muttered, out of the corner of your eye watching a zombie looking Dazai reach for the hot cup, muttering a halfhearted morning and thanks in one breath.

You heard Chuuya sigh heavily, disappointed, before going over to the coffee machine and brewing another cup. As the machine skimmed the milk and ground the beans, Chuuya got into a half bicker, half quiet discussion with Dazai about something. Not too long after, the two settled down at the table a few paces away continuing the hushed discussion.

They didn’t even bother to ask- let alone step up to help you. Jerks.

“Are you absolutely sure this is legit? And how the hell are we supposed to fill it in anyways” You heard Chuuya hiss at Dazai, making you turn your head in question towards them. You saw the two of them staring at what looked like a thick stack of papers between them- no doubt some kind of work-related report. Probably an evaluation of the new recruits or something.

“ Of course it’s legit- I’m not an idiot like you.” Dazai stated matter of factly pointing something out on the sheets of paper with a half broken- half chewed on ink pen.

“ Who the hell are you calling an idiot- you extra stuff that comes with bandages!” Chuuya snapped back but settled down the second he noticed your eyes on them.

You felt your lips turn down in a frown as you flipped another bunch of pancakes: So, fucking typical. With them it was either work or the twins. While you were still just this ‘something’ that did everything around the house with little to no gratitude or help. Right then you felt like the extra stuff that comes with babies. A ghost- boggart- in your own home.

You had just finished making pancakes when you heard a wail from upstairs. The babies had woken up. Instantly you turned off the stove: wiping your hands on a cloth you rushed upstairs to get the twins. After all, those picture-perfect fathers were not so perfect until after breakfast.

You returned a few moments later, placing the babies in their highchairs. Then you put small bowls with mashed fruits in front of them in different cups. Yet another attempt at introducing solids into their diet. Then back to the kitchen, returning a few seconds later.

“Here!” You dropped the two plates of pancakes in front of your so-called partners, not caring either about the loud clang the plates made against the wooden table, or the way the food slid off them. Or the way the twins clapped their hands in glee at the loud noise. You went back to the kitchen, moving things into the sink to make it easier to wash up later, while turning on the kettle for tea.

A hot cup of chamomile or melissa tea sounded heavenly at that moment.

Hearing the children's fuss, you abandoned both dishes and tea; rushing back towards the dining table, where Chuuya and Dazai mouths were stuffed with food. Their attention was divided between the stack of papers in front of them and the twins that were eagerly reaching for their fathers' pancakes. You felt another wave of irritation wash over you- a bitter kind of anger that you bit back before you said something you would regret. Instead, you fixed all of them with a warning look, making sure that neither Dazai nor Chuuya shared their breakfast with the twins. The last thing you needed that morning was to pull pancakes out of the children's noses.

“Sweetheart, aren’t you going to eat anything?” Chuuya asked suddenly, sounding concerned as he watched you come closer to the table and take a seat beside the children.

“I’m not hungry” you growled through squeezed teeth as you picked up the small plastic spoon and began trying to feed them mashed berries. After a few moments of screwed faces and the fruit going everywhere besides inside the children's mouth, you dropped the small spoon back into the colorful cup and looked up at the ceiling. You were blinking away tears of frustration. How fucking hard was this supposed to be?

Not hard if you were to ask the pediatrician!

“Here let me try Belladonna” Dazai gave you a small smile as he picked up the spoon you had carelessly dropped back into the mash. With some exaggerated motions and airplane noises, the children ate the mash without any issue. As if Dazai was feeding them formulas from a spoon. Soon Chuuya joined him, wiping their mouths and then burping them once the twins were done.

The sight warmed your heart, but it also made you feel self-conscious- a failure somehow. Why hadn’t you thought of doing that? Wasn’t it a mother's instinct to know what to do and how to care for her children? To have an inseparable bond. And yet it seemed Dazai and Chuuya were somehow closer to the twins- despite the fact that you were the one who did the majority of the nurturing duties. Were you perhaps- not equipped to be a parent?

The thought lingered in your head as they all finished breakfast. It lingered through the playtime with children and even as you put the twins down for their nap. When they'd wake up, you’d need to bathe them, then dress them and take them for a little time outside. And then–

“-Belladona?” you snapped out of your thoughts when you noticed that Dazai had been talking and trying to get your attention for the past minute or so.

“Oh sorry, what did you say?” You asked as you draped the covers over the snoozing twins and headed towards your partner who was lingering in the door of the nursery.

Dazai flashed you a nervous smile, one of his hands in his hair, trying to make himself look less awkward. “A moment of your time dalin?” he repeated himself. You frowned, unsure why he’d suddenly ask for your time so formally. Then as you saw him shift under your gaze you felt your eyes widen with realization and nodded quickly, eagerly and followed him back to the living room.

You sat down on the couch opposite your lovers, a hopeful feeling in your chest. They looked so nervous, bumping shoulders against each other, flickering eyes, silent motions for one or the other to start. To an outsider they would have looked like composed mafioso's- to you they looked like a bunch of nervous teenagers. You held back a giggle, the sight reminding you so much of when they first asked you to be with them- then once again when they asked you to start living together.

You almost felt nervous yourself. And excited. And anxious. Were they really going to finally–?

“Sweetheart there’s something we’d like to ask- no discuss with you” Chuuya started, clearly having lost whatever silent banter he and Dazai were having above your head. You felt the palms of your hands grow damp- sweaty. Your heart was hammering in your chest. Your mouth dry- your ears ringing. It was finally happening, wasn’t it? You could barely contain your grin:

“ You both know I’d say YE–” “– we think you might have postpartum depression”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Ice cold dread washed over you; making dark dots play in your vision. The disappointment on your face was clear. It seemed to throw both of them off guard for a moment. Like they couldn’t understand what it was you were hoping for- what you were so eager to say yes to. It took a moment for your mind to register what Chuuya said- but you certainly regained your composure quicker than either of them.

“What?!” You snapped, narrowing your eyes dangerously at the pair, daring them to repeat themselves. “What did you just say?”

They didn’t answer directly: Instead, they made a motion towards the stack of papers that they had been fiddling with all morning. They were laid out on the small table between you. Postpartum Assessment sheet with a bunch of ticked off boxes. You didn’t know what made you feel more insulted- that they assumed you had postpartum depression or the fact that they assessed you behind your back instead of coming and talking to you.

You scoffed in response

“We think you might have postpartum depression– it’s not uncommon. Especially in young, first-time mothers and–” You flew up from your seat silencing Dazai’s voice instantly.

“No you’re just saying that because You are not around. Either of you! so it's just fucking easier to blame all the shortcomings and inadequacy on me than look at your own failures!” You began pacing, running your hands through your hair. You couldn’t believe it- that they could even think you were a threat to your own babies. To the children you birthed and raised and nurtured- stayed up nights and nights to care for. The ones you took to doctors and classes and sacrificed so much for. How fucking dare they even suggest that?!

“ Sweetheart it isn’t..” Chuuya started. He had moved off the sofa and closer to you, hands reaching towards you, palms up. Something between an awkward attempt at a hug and reassuring you, he meant no harm.

“No you’re right, it isn’t about that- is it? It’s cuz you want to take them away from me, right?! Want to take my babies away from me and start a partnership” Your eyes moved from Chuuya to Dazai who had remained awfully passive throughout your entire outburst. The fact that he was always absent with urgent work, then demanding Chuuya to come and help during missions suddenly made a lot more sense to you.

Just like your bare ring finger.

The thought stung. Instead of feeling anger however, you felt overwhelming sadness. A type of defeat that only came when you realized your own pitifulness- your own worthlessness. The naivety that those two would ever see you as their equal- a shared part of a whole. This realization left a bitter taste in your mouth; “You’ve gotten what you wanted- what you can’t create yourself- out of me and now you want to lock me up with a stamp of being incompetent? Forget it!”

Chuuya gaped, his brain trying to come up with something that wouldn’t aggravate the situation further. He seemed to have an idea, a thought, but the words got stuck in his throat as your eyes went away from Dazai and back to him.

Eyes full of icy fury.

“I’m not giving them to you, not without a fight!” you snapped just as you heard the twins stirring. Their wails awakening a protective and possessive motherly instinct inside you. Without another word you brushed past Chuuya, bumping his shoulder purposefully on the way out of the living room.

“That went brilliantly, simpleton” you heard Dazai’s voice but did not bother turning around as you headed upstairs to the twins. Out of the three of them you were the most competent to be a mother - a parent. If anyone was having ‘postpartum depression’ it was those two self-centered idiots.

Going upstairs you picked the crying babies up and began pacing with them around the room, your mind still a jumbled mess as you pressed kisses to each of the twins' foreheads. God what were you supposed to do if they made you out to be so sick and incompetent, so you’d lose your parental rights and — and— you swallowed then shuddered as you heard your so-called partners yelling at each other downstairs. In panic you hurried to retreat to the safety of the bathroom.

You made sure to lock the door, then barricade it.

You took a step back from it, your heart in your throat. The children sensed your fear and wailed loudly in your arms. You shushed them quietly before going further into the bathroom. There you set the children down onto the floor only long enough to turn on the water in the bathtub in a feeble attempt to block out the bickering echoing from downstairs. You made sure the water was perfect temperature, then you hurried to pick the twins up and hugged them tightly to your chest, rocking backwards and forwards. The sound of your so-called partners' loud voices only fueled your fear and sadness. How dare they suggest you were incompetent. How dare they attempt to take these babies away from you. As if they’d be able to do a better job than you. To protect them from this cruel, cruel world!

No, you were not going to let Chuuya and Dazai take them away from you. Your twins- your joy. Your purpose in life. But if they were truly serious about it– then you’d rather take yourself and your babies out of this world than risk putting them through the horrors of going even a day without their mother—. _____________________________________________________ Update: Check out the next part A hit beyond rock bottom

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #sweetober #desperate times call for desperate measures #bsd angst #bsd x reader #dazai x you #dazai x chuuya x reader #angst #new parents #post partum depression

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haastera · 8 months

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How the Murder drones were built + Why Uzi transforms when she overheats

Overheating is caused by insufficient oil. If the absolute solver detects the host is overheating it will automatically intervene and transform them into a form it considers more efficient at harvesting oil. A sort of temporary forced evolution to make the host a better hunter. After all Eldtrich J did say that its primary directive was to repair J. The only way to repair overheating is to make the host a better drone predator.

Once sufficient oil has been collected and a calm mental state restored Uzi returns to her normal physical form.

JCJ discovered this phenomenon, perhaps by stress testing drones like Nori and Yeva to induce overheating, and refined the "natural/organic" Murder drone form into the corporate Murder drones we're familiar with. STRESS TEST LAB is a much more corporate-friendly name than TORTURE CHAMBER in my opinion.

This could be why the Murder drones can't actively use the solver's powers despite clearly possessing them. The corporation infects worker drones with the solver, tortures them until they overheat and transform, and finally locks the program once they are in their natural Murder drone state preventing them from ever switching back. Now they must constantly hunt to satiate their oil thirst, unlike Uzi who would never need to drink oil if she kept her emotions in check and refrained from using her powers.

-Natural Murder drone

-Corporate Murder drone

After further refinement and surgical enhancement, you arrive at N, J, and V. Superficially similar to the natural (for lack of a better term) Murder drone form yet greatly enhanced in lethality by human engineering. Crafted by the corporation to hunt down and kill solver-active drones.

#murder drones #murder drones theory #murder drones details

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hamletteprinceofdenmark · 2 years

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I am asking everyone who has ever complained about how the Dream SMP is run and organised to sign up with their local community theatre program.

I’m deadly serious. Do it.

I don’t care what it is, whether you audition to be on stage, sign up to be part of the backstage crew, paint backdrops, or sell tickets. Just do something.

It is so painfully, painfully obvious that some of y’all have never been part of a large scale collaborative creative project and are talking out of your arse about hypotheticals you’ve never had experience in or been held responsible for.

Being a content creator is a job.

To be a part of the Dream SMP is a business opportunity. It’s a networking opportunity. It’s a chance to expand your audience (and by extension increase your profit margins).

It is of course, also an opportunity to hang out with friends, have a lot of fun, experiment, and do cool things creatively.

But at the end of the day, a lot of fucking work goes into something like this.

I’m not saying there should be paper and ink legal contracts, but having a universal understanding of the responsibilities you hold as a member of the Dream SMP (including the amount of hours you’re actively creating content - as a bare fucking minimum) is a really good idea.

You cannot simultaneously complain about how the Dream SMP has felt rushed, or disorganised, or like it’s dying, or about the lack of communication, or how different creators’ lore feels disconnected from each other, or the millions of other things that I see all over social media every day, and then get up in arms about those same creators putting rules and structures in place to fix those very same problems!!

This benefits you.

It also benefits the creators.

Having clear commitment guidelines, open communication, communal goals, literally anything and everything Dream and all the other creators have been talking about (and seem really excited for, can I just say!), is to help create a better product for you guys and to reduce stress on creators, not increase it.

Let me reiterate that one for the people in the back.

The Dream SMP is a product that you consume.

You exchange your time, your energy, your own creative endeavours - in the form of fan fiction, fan art, analysis, and other fandom interaction and collaboration (which is also free marketing btw), and yes, even your money, in exchange for a product that these creators make for you.

Any of those creators could choose to walk away at any time. They’re under no obligation to stay.

Dream isn’t being a bloody dictator (which can we just take a moment because oh my god no he is not and I saw that exact phrasing in multiple different places). He’s being a producer. And the sooner you guys see behind the curtain and understand what that actually means, the better.

TLDR: I personally guarantee that the official Dream SMP Discord has got NOTHING on whatever’s happening in your local theatre company’s annual review meeting.

Before jumping down cc’s throats, consider why they might want to hold people accountable for a collaborative creative project which many of these folks financially depend on.

No one wants to be the one person working on the group project.

That’s what this is preventing.

#dream smp #dsmp #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #the eret #quackity

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suzukiblu · 3 months

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Okay yeah, I wasn't sure about it at first but after actually reading it, The Parasite has me in a chokehold now. Of course Clark is beating himself up for a tragedy that he couldn't have known to try and prevent, and of course everyone else is beating themselves up for not thinking of mind control. How could anyone have known? And how would anyone think to consider a brain parasite of all things? Especially in a Kryptonian. His last brain scan wasn't even an unreasonably long time before the parasite took over, so they can't even say that they missed a checkup or anything (before it was too late anyways)

And Kon, if he actually did notice the mind control and the parasite actually did kill him, of course he'd be the one to see it. With mind control being as familiar of a concern as it is for him (being born with programming like that, even incomplete programming, would probably have you checking your thoughts and actions regularly) and it being CLARK, yeah it is very likely that he would be the first person to notice. Really hoping this isn't the case though, Clark is already in enough pain from the things the parasite did. Him and Kon don't deserve this.

In conclusion; good angst, great angst, I got so upset I got a headache (frequent occurrence when stressing out over angst. Brain don't like tension, which is unfortunate because thats one of my favourite things to read)

Thank you, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I really love it and love all the hurting in it. But also I'm sorry about the headache, haha, oh god, I'm so sorry about the headache. 😅 I just want to make you cry, not get HEADACHES! That's not the kind of hurting I'm trying to cause!!

( also uhhhhh when I write more of this the angst is only gonna get WORSE so fair warning, keep your headache meds on tap for future installments )

I'm also really pleased the logic of why no one realized what was going on worked for you, I tried REAL hard to make it believable. Like, there's just situations you can't plan for and wouldn't notice! That's just a thing! Even with people you really care about and even if you're Lois Lane or freakin' BATMAN.

#anonymous #rintalk

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scaryman-fancam · 4 months

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Revenant rambles - potential fic worldbuilding? - canon typical violence

- Sometimes I wonder about fans of the Apex Legends in universe. Obviously there would be fangirls, fan blogs, etc etc, I wonder how Revenant specifically would feel about them? He does tend to be a bit vain and egotistical, but simultaneously has a strong distaste for others. I can easily imagine him hating the attention, believing it to be stupid and annoying, but also, maybe he’d like it? Knowing he has adoring fans supporting him and fawning over him would definitely be a power trip, but I’m just not sure if he’s all that egocentric.

- I know this has been said before but I’d love to expand on Revenant’s voice lines sometime, especially the ones where he says things like, “Smell that? First blood,” or “that’s the sweet aroma of fear,” or even the one where he straight up just sniffs? I’d love if the game itself would expand on that but for now I plan to implement it in future fics. Like, if he can smell fear and blood, who’s to say he can’t smell other things? Like stress, anger, sadness, etc.? It’d be a great tool for him, being able to tell what they’re feeling without being able to see their face or read their expressions. Pretending to be stoic wouldn’t work against him. He’d probably get really cocky about it, too, being able to read someone so easily.

- I thinks it’s really interesting how human Revenant still is. In his introduction trailer, one of the first things we see is him attempting to shave. He didn’t quite realize he wasn’t human anymore yet, but in terms of Revenant lore, realizing he isn’t human is a fairly recent revelation. Loba is 36, and her parents were attacked when she was 9, and if that really was the instant he realizes he’s not human, he’s only been aware of his circumstances for a little over 20 years. There’s so much about this that’s so interesting to me. It gives us really interesting insight on what his mind must have been like. For example, did his programming prevent him from questioning the passage of time, or maybe it prevented him from questioning how he had lived for so long? He complains about dying over and over again, what did he assume was happening before realizing he wasn’t human anymore? Did he believe it to be a bad dream, or maybe he just ‘got lucky’ and wasn’t beyond saving? I wonder what he was capable of as Kaleb Cross, did he question his abilities he has as a simulacrum, or was he programmed to believe he always had these powers?

#apex legends #revenant #implied violence #revenant apex legends #revenant headcanons #sorry I’m obsessed with him #there’s more to say but it’s not quite expressed properly I’ll post it another day

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beesincognito · 4 months

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Perfect Strangers- part fifteen: The Theater

Viktor x Fem!reader (slight NSFW)

part fourteen part sixteen (start here!)

Takes place before Arcane and works its way there, did my best to combine the different versions of lore. (nsfw in parts)

(you and Viktor meet on your first day at the academy and bond over being habitual, awkward loners. The story revolves around class issues and a sense of belonging mixed with lore and Arcane plot.)

*slightly implied NSFW- very brief *

Word count: 5,089

******

Bags were packed for a weekend trip you were dreading. Not that it was getting in the way of work, nor was it a trip of severe inconvenience. It was a stressful venture; you would rather trek alone instead of having to bring Viktor in hopes of shielding him from what may come.

Your parents were in town again and had asked you and Viktor to stay at the family estate that weekend for a friendly visit. Of course you wanted to prevent ruffled feathers after the last time you were all together, so you obliged after discussing it extensively with Viktor in private. Feeling out his nerves with every shift of his eyes or fidgeting of his hands in yours.

“It’s not too late to back out,” you finished checking the rooms, ensuring everything was tidy for your return, “we can bow out after the theater.”

Many outs were given to Viktor, but he was adamant on going along with your parents’ request in hopes that they would warm up to him in the future. He insisted once more that there was no issue and he was looking forward to seeing your childhood home. That prospect alone made you almost as anxious as having him around your parents.

Entresol was far from the lavish lifestyle you were brought up in. The fissures were toxic, a hazard to raise a child in, and most people were never given a choice about living there. You wondered what he would think of your wastefully large home and how stifling it was. Surely after all of those years together, he would know you were far removed from the mindset of your parents and the estate should not reflect who you had become away at the academy.

A car was waiting for you on the edge of campus which you did not request, only accepting your mother’s offer to have a driver sent as opposed to leaving an hour early to walk. Pistons fired as the vehicle bumbled down the lane on the way to the theater after your bags were loaded into the back seat by the driver. All of the pampering felt widely unnecessary.

The crowds were large and the driver dropped you off at the front steps to the theater which was in a thrall over the spring program. Usually the Winterfest was the highlight of the year for the theater, but, from what you remembered growing up, spring concerts could attract a healthy sum of people on opening night. Obviously your parents wanted to attend on opening night despite the overwhelming number of people.

Your family’s wealth did not provide for a private box, but there were handsomely placed seats in the nosebleeds that allowed ample viewing of the stage unobstructed. There your parents were, waiting for you with drinks already ordered and seats saved for the four of you. There was a table for standing just behind the seats and you passed it before settling into the space next to your mother.

“I almost thought you were going to be late, it would have been a waste of ticket money,” your mother was charming as ever with the way her passive aggressive words edged on the line of cynical in tone and nature.

After fruitlessly arguing with her to assure her you had plenty of time before the concert began, you listened to her drone on about work and home. Staff was getting more disagreeable by the day and she blamed it on them being from the undercity which you were quick to politely reprimand her on without sounding too upset. Apparently there was an accident at one of the manufacturing plants and protests ensued, leading your father to lay off over a dozen workers without a proper investigation. It was vile, and you felt your leg shake with agitation while trying to remain calm.

Beside you, Viktor’s knuckles were white from gripping the neck of his cane between his knees as he looked on at the empty stage, curtains still drawn in a red velvet wall, down below. He was attempting to go unnoticed and to not make a scene since he felt another trap brewing from your mother, egging him on by spitting on the undercity in such a benumbed manner.

There was no room for you to comfort him, even silently, since holding his hand or leaning on him around your parents would most likely result in a painstakingly grueling lecture about “public decency.” If you were with someone from Piltover, then the story would have been very different, but you chose Viktor and for that you would receive no grace.

“Let’s not talk about work,” you smiled at her as best you could, playing the role of loving daughter for her sake.

“One last thing,” she tapped your father on the arm, prompting him to hand her a small letter from the inner pocket of his suit, “this came a few weeks ago. We forwarded the message to you in a letter, but you never responded so I assume you never read it.”

A broken seal told you exactly who it was from. The Galgaridon crest looked up at you in two torn pieces from the folded piece of paper. Just as the music was beginning from the orchestra pit, you unfolded it and began reading its contents; you read at an angle so Viktor could eye it if he wanted to.

Caston Galgaridon wrote to your family home to explain his recent honorable discharge from the Noxian military after an injury sustained on the battlefield rendered him incapable of continuing his service. Part of you knew he must have put himself in harm's way on purpose after your last talk. Whatever the reason, be it accidental or intentional as suspected, he was informing your family of his new position in becoming the new head of the foundry your parents helped build all that time ago. Meaning they would be working directly through him for their Noxian transports and business ventures.

At least he had the decency to not write to you directly and respect your wishes for space. Little could be said for your parents as time crawled on.

“Why does this concern me?” you folded the letter with its familiar creases and reclined in your seat.

“We thought you ought to know since you will be working with him once you’re done with schooling,” your father leaned forward to see past your mother who stared at the performance with feigned indifference, “and it’s important to maintain our partnerships.”

“I don’t see how working in Noxus is relevant to my future career endeavors.”

“No one ever said you had to relocate to Noxus,” his dry laughter said more than you needed to know, “regardless of your living arrangements, correspondence with the young master Galgaridon is still an important partnership.”

Down on stage there were ballet dancers leaping across the polished wooden stage over fake prop pieces of florals and grasses moving in imaginary wind as violins encouraged them on. As chimes echoed in the background, you stole a glance at Viktor who turned just as you did, perfectly in sync with your movements without a word needing to pass between you. Honey colored eyes reflected the lights of the stage in the near darkness of the theater and they were full of a sweetened understanding that you could have melted into if you were back in your rooms with him. You were itching to feel him in any kind of embrace at that moment, but the desire to keep your parents’ feathers silky smooth kept you grounded in your nauseating discomfort.

The past always had an ugly way of dredging itself up at the most inopportune time, but at least in that moment it was less of a real threat and more of an uncomfortable suggestion from your parents. It was a sour attempt to get you out of Piltover and away from Viktor, an obvious stabbing betrayal even if you were unsure it even counted as such when they had been so open with you about their disapproval already.

This is lovely, you had quietly remarked, pointing out the performance, leaning towards your parents. The little gestures were your only salvation it seemed.

Polite conversation was able to spark between the four of you once you managed to get the first few pleasant words out about anything other than responsibilities. Managing to make your parents smile at you and Viktor during comments and jests felt like pushing a rock up a steep hill, arduous, but greatly rewarding once you reached the top and were able to rest at its peak.

By the end of the concert the choppy waters felt unusually calm, whatever storm that had been brewing was either passed or on hold. The cab that came around the front of the building, to collect the four of you, already had your belongings strapped to the rear of the large carriage.

The trip back to the estate was long, as the hours passed, you all dozed off at different times. All except Viktor who took to admiring the changing scenery through the window even if the night outside prevented him from seeing much past the vague silhouette every now and then once you were out of the inner city. Housing towards the edge would range from modest dwellings to smaller unkempt apartments and eventually largely spaced out manors. Wide gaps in wealth were evident even topside it seemed.

He couldn’t help but think those lackluster apartments were right up your combined alley when it came to affordability since you refused to use your family funds. Over the last half year, you both were more frugal with your finances. Accepting that the y/l/n family fortune could be pulled out from under you at any moment made you both carefully calculate your means of living and you made sure to stay within those boundaries.

Viktor also knew this weekend trip was a performance at its core and he was determined to play his part as quietly as he could manage. Willing to seem invisible for your sake and to not stir your parents’ emotions into barring down on you with their unrelenting barrage of disapproving opinions. Difficult as it was, considering he was usually emboldened at the academy, more confident in his field and among his colleagues.

Thankfully he managed to speak to your parents about his work when they appeared to ask with a genuine interest, prodding him to reveal his plans.

******

Lush green hedges surrounded the property, or at least the innermost part of the property that contained the main house and gardens; it did not include the long drive up through manicured rolling landscapes and trees spotted throughout the scene. Leaves and twigs were collected in muslin sacks for disposal after the annual pruning and new buds were well into blossoming in time for the season. Birds skirted across a pond, rippling through the glass surface with beautiful disturbance coupled with their cacophony of squawks and honks.

Home was back at the academy for you, but there would always be a bittersweet nostalgia in returning to the estate for visits and this time was no different. You stepped out of the motorized carriage first, followed by Viktor and your parents in succession. Moonlight and lanterns provided a glow that came off in a haze against the evening mist. Starlight dappled in the blanket of night overhead and you wished to spend more time outside with Viktor in the fresh air, but you were hurriedly rushed inside by your parents who were too eager to show off their abode to a newcomer.

Even if Viktor was not their ideal guest, they were desperately trying to save face. Most of their disdain of him had been private comments made directly to you, so they must have thought he was none the wiser regarding their opinions of him.

Given the late hour, the tour was rather short. They only showed him where they would be dining for breakfast, should you both like to join them that early, and the parlor where they spent most of their free time. Free time did not come often for your parents, but you assumed this weekend they would be lounging for once since they insisted on your staying over.

“Don’t be shy about exploring. I’m sure y/n will take you around at some point as well,” your father passed through the large double doors that opened into a corridor not too far from your room. “Your things have been brought to the bedroom already, so you may retire if you wish.”

Bidding your parents goodnight, you accepted their offer to be excused and took Viktor with you.

“I wish they were this nice all of the time,” you mumbled over your shoulder to Viktor once you were a few turns and rooms away from them. “They were so polite to you, why can’t it be real?”

“Don’t concern yourself over things you cannot control.” Viktor followed you through the doors to your room, pulling the handles closed behind him with a low snap of pins falling into place and the lock setting. “For now, let's just be happy we’ve made it this far.”

He was right. Fretting over wishes and complaints were never going to amount to anything and you were feeling more at ease being alone with him in the privacy of your room.

Something you could control was at your fingertips. It teased at your tongue as you were feeling too shy to openly ask for anything explicit. Sitting on the edge of your canopy bed proved more than enough for a hint when Viktor joined you without suggestion. Evening clothes began to feel suffocating as you lost yourselves in a tangle of limbs and pleading whispers.

******

Morning came with a vengeance. You were undisturbed by maids or your parents, left to rest at your own leisure with Viktor in your bed and the curtains were still pulled back from the night before. Neither of you thought to close them which let the blinding white reflection of the sun wake you since you were facing large glass doors across the room. Scenic lawns softened the blow of the harsh sunlight and you blinked against its glow as a few squirrels sprinted across the window sill in leaping bounds, cheeks full of their gathering spoils.

Blankets tempted you to remain in bed, but the idea of any staff or your parents poking in to check on you prompted you to drag yourself from the plush den and get ready for the day. Pushing open the double doors and opening the remaining curtains to let in more light, you wake Viktor up in the process.

Despite how sleepy you both still felt, there was something in the air that you couldn’t explain. It was like the hotel room when you got a taste of domesticity away from the academy together, playing pretend for a little while before having to return to work and research all while feeling like teenagers in adult bodies.

“I could get used to this,” Viktor held your hand with a reverence that made you blush when you sat next to him on his side of the bed where he was still laying.

“The nice house?”

“No,” his eyes closed, still tired, “this feeling, in this room. It’s like we’re married.”

“Would you want to?” You moved your two hands together further implying what he just said.

“Eventually.”

******

Easels with abandoned paintings were pushed into a corner of glass and plaster, leaving room for a large open space of stone that made up the floor to the old studio. Days were once spent toiling away at those easels much to the behest of your family, pouring your soul into the pieces that could only be referenced from the windows beyond your enclosure and images you had seen elsewhere during excursions or from books. There were plenty of those to go around in your home, but taking your art supplies out of the estate and beyond the property grounds was restricted. Encouragement for your creative hobbies was nonexistent since it was only seen as just that, a hobby and nothing more. Cursed be the day you first asked your mother for your beginner set of paints and a canvas. Over time your parents softened to the idea of you pursuing a meaningful pastime, giving you a wide berth for creative study under the guise of it remaining a hobby and you played that part as well as you could for years.

Windows made up a wall of glass, an old sunroom connected to your bedroom through a short hallway only accessible to you. It must have once been a modest sitting room before the estate grew too large for it and it was abandoned until you burrowed your way into it as a child while exploring. Ivy still grew on the back of the house unlike the front where it was completely cleared away for structural integrity.

You were not about to thew Viktor in the history of your home and meaning of all of the rooms. Bringing him to your old studio was more of a thing of boredom and meandering through the halls with him until you thought to visit the old room which felt so strange after all that time away. Dust dated the years you were away despite your infrequent visits to the estate, the studio went on abandoned.

Chatter about the room ranged from explaining what mysterious containers and cups contained, since you were awful at labeling things outside of a shared classroom setting, to shyly tucking away old lackluster art that once left you for want of improved talent.

“It’s a time capsule,” Viktor looked around with curiosity, pretending he didn’t notice you stuffing a large drawing between canvases to his side. Those small graces were everything to you even if you knew full well you couldn’t get much past him even if you tried.

“You can say that.”

“You’ve always been an artist. I find that inspiring, to have held onto a passion this long with the opposition you’ve received because of it.”

Red creeped up your face, or at least that was how it felt when your heart hammered at his words. Inspiration was a dry well and your addled mind was unable to accept that Viktor found it in you in some way. How you had managed to keep the man before you in your life for so long would continue to elude you and you were just thankful he showed no signs of leaving anytime soon.

“Where do you see us,” it was too late to retract once the words fell out of your blabbering mouth, “in a year or so?” His comment from that morning was worming through your brain.

His sudden stoic expression, deep in thought, did nothing for your nerves so you continued to drone on in the hopes of answering your own stupid question or forcing him to move on and not answer you at all. The latter would have been better.

“I mean, nothing serious, I’m not talking about- um - future plans with you and me,” you rubbed your forehead aggressively trying to find the right words to not scare him away. After a minute or so of rambling you gave up trying to sound coherent. “Forget I said anything.”

“I’m assuming you only want me to respond regarding our careers, though I’d be glad to entertain ideas of what we’ll be in the future together,” his confidence in your relationship was unclear in the way he answered you so you asked him to not elaborate and instead let him talk about what you both might be doing once schooling was over.

With academics nearing a close, you wondered where he would work and if you would both become so busy you would belong to your jobs and lose time to live in the real world. Both of your fields were demanding and not conducive of a healthy atmosphere for maintaining a proper relationship if you were not careful with time management.

Viktor knew not to lose himself in his work, but you hadn’t a clue what the future had in store and how he would change, how he could change if circumstances forced his hand. Just the thought of losing the man in front of you made your stomach turn as you chatted through these possibilities without sounding too desperate for all of your curiosities to be answered in confidence.

“What if I hold you back?” You lamented, leaning against the glass overlooking those grassy fields you memorized as a child. “I want you to be great and belong to your work however you see fit without worrying about…me.”

Whether you wanted to admit it aloud or not, you were unsure if this blissful companionship with Viktor would outlast your school days once you were both free of the academy should you both get jobs away from its labs. No matter what you did, Viktor would most likely become a successful researcher and inventor which would take him to the workshop guilds while your mother had hinted you’d be traveling to Noxus once you joined the family business.

The future didn’t look prime for you and Viktor.

Arms encircled you, secure and warm in the room of glass.

“I am yours,” his face was set and calm in the effort to assure you without having to give you any grand speeches, “entirely and unconditionally.”

******

Entirely and unconditionally swam around your mind sweetly for the rest of the day and gave you some reprieve as you entertained your parents even though you and Viktor were supposed to be the guests. Instead of feeling as if it were the other way around, you were the one up in front of the couches by the grand fireplace telling them stories about school and from books much to your parent’s delight.

Animated gestures and vocal cues made their faces lighten up with a childish glee even when Viktor would chime in on your stories from where he sat in the overly ornate armchair. Despite having your parents there, it was nice to relive your memories from the academy with Viktor.

“Do you have any stories from the Kiraman labs?” Your mother leaned forward on her elbows as you turned the events of your lab over, organizing your thoughts to see if there were any comical stories.

“Not many involving me, but there have been a few explosions here and there from the other researchers,” your eyes glued to an ugly wall decoration across the room as you thought over it. “Well I was working on a project recently and the whole thing fell over into a mess of parts and gears.”

You went on to tell them how that day had been an inventor’s disaster and you were at your wits end with the way your projects had been going and you detailed the whirlwind that was your office. It got to the part where you bumped into an old classmate that kindly assisted you with repairing your project, helping you progress with it further than you had before if ever fell.

“So you do have friends,” your father jested.

For some reason it made you uncomfortable to think of it that way especially when you kept Jayce’s name out of it, “no we were just classmates a long time ago.”

“But they remembered you anyways, must’ve been a memorable class,” your father let out a blubbering chuckle. “Who was it anyways?”

Your neck felt cool from sweat and you regretted finishing the story, wishing you had left it after the part where you stormed away from the fallen project, “It doesn’t matter. No one important.”

“Oh come now,” he leaned back in his seat and blew out a thick cloud from his pipe. “Worried I might know their parents like when you were a child?”

“No it’s just he-”

“A gentleman!” Your mother chimed in like you were all playing a guessing game.

“And he works at the Kiraman labs, dear,” your father chattered away with guesses with your mother as you rolled your eyes, grinning uncomfortably at Viktor, “must be from a prominent family.”

“Wrong again,” you teased knowing full well Jayce was from a lower house like you, but it was not as full of grandeur and prestige as your father was imagining.

“Well play fair then, give us some decent clues,” your mother was all smiles and you managed to mirror her enthusiasm even if it was much calmer in comparison.

You stopped the makeshift game before it really took off, throwing yourself into another story that featured you and Viktor having lunch with Sky during the school trip so long ago. It seemed to satisfy their cravings for drama when part of the story was about a conversation the three of you unwillingly heard from a table over at the restaurant.

Throughout the rest of your social time with your parents, you’d occasionally catch Viktor looking at you with knit brows. It was unusual for him to stare at you like that and you knew it was because you refused to give up Jayce’s name during the storytelling. You hadn’t really told him about that day in the lab aside from having a hard time and he didn’t know who Jayce was at all, as far as you knew, since it seemed their paths had never crossed.

Inevitability gave you fair warning that he was going to ask you about who the mystery classmate was that night when you were back in your room trying to sleep.

Dinner time was easier since your parents had their friends join all of you that evening. This time you weren’t the only one telling stories; now it was your parent’s turn to peacock and entertain. Whether their friends actually cared was another matter since a few of them continued to mutter about business if the room would grow too quiet.

When it was loud with laughter, you had some semblance of privacy being able to talk with Viktor where you were both tucked away at the edge of the crowd. There you could talk about what you were going to do once you were free of this place and back at the academy.

Viktor seemed different, not upset, but tired of being around people who must have been weighing him down from how loud they were. The mystery classmate was in the back of his mind even if he knew it was irrational to worry. Keeping secrets was something he never did to you besides the occasional white lie that he wasn’t tired, he wasn’t in pain, or a new dish you worked hard to make was definitely not burnt. But this felt different in the way you held his hand in reassurance and gave him your full attention when he so much as cleared his throat.

“Relax,” he whispered after you asked him if anything was wrong for the fifth time that evening. It wasn’t a command and more of a sweetly delivered suggestion which put you in some ease, or at least stopped you from asking again.

******

It was left unsaid, all of your shared thoughts over Jayce. You didn’t want to tell him who it was and part of him didn’t really want to know despite the curiosity.

“You know you can be honest with me,” Viktor said more so to the cloth above then directly to you, staring at the velvet canopy of your bed in the near darkness.

You were reading by your dimly warm bedside light when he broke the quiet. Closing the book carefully, you set it aside, “you’re talking about the story… from the lab.”

His silence was your answer.

“He was just an old classmate,” you leaned back, “I didn’t like my parents prying.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to do the same,” he sighed, “but I know he wasn’t just a classmate.”

Hammering in your chest did nothing for your nerves and you tried to keep your breathing level once you remembered nothing got past Viktor.

“I didn’t-”

“I know you didn’t cheat,” he laughed a little which put you at ease, “but you have history with him-” you covered his mouth, but he easily freed himself, “and that’s ok. I was just curious.”

Talking helped. From gasps of surprise to laughing about things that were once very painful, Viktor told you about a night years ago where he came to see you late at night before you shared a dorm and before you ever began seeing each other exclusively. You listened wide eyed realizing he never brought it up with you before because he knew it was none of his business. He’d even forgotten about it until the mysterious classmate was brought up and he connected the dots since he knew you never really slept around back then either. There was no room to do so since you used to be attached at the hip even as friends.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you laughed at yourself thinking of that night you had answered the door as a disheveled mess, knowing Jayce had been hiding in the blankets.

Viktor caught his breath after his own bout of laughter at something you said. It felt good to finally let go of the guilt even if he still didn’t ask you who the man was and you were content with keeping it that way.

We should get married, you could’ve sworn you heard him whisper as you were in and out of sleep after what felt like hours of joking around fighting it off.

Rational thought told you marriage was not in your future and you didn’t care much for the idea anyways. The tradition and pressure was an uninviting thought and you itched at the image of your parents weeping for the loss of your status by marrying down. It wasn’t like marriage would make much of a difference in your shared lives anyways.

In the morning you both got up early and left when the fog was still thick across the grass fields and trees. It was a long drive back to the academy and you were ready to return to the dorms and close the curtains on this whole affair of entertaining your parents.

******

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