#new e gland

[roadtripnewengland]

A Local’s Guide to Newport, Rhode Island https://bit.ly/467Armk

[emulation-0]

my dad is so funny

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 7

Part 6

The idea of sharing space on a tour bus was a little daunting, even though Steve had met the rest of the band. He was glad to see how big it was, and especially glad when Eddie led him to the back of the bus where the bedroom was. It had a bed big enough for two, but that was about it. It was more than enough for him.

"The boys will be bunking on the pull-outs out there", Eddie jabbed his thumb back to the rest of the bus.

They were setting out for the first destination on their tour, New York, which would take them about half a day to get to.

"Can't believe I get to go on tour with you. I feel like an actual groupie."

Eddie hopped onto the bed and laid on his side. "You gonna toss your underwear to me?", he grinned.

"Why would I? I already got on the band's bus", Steve smirked, hands on his hips. He glanced out the bedroom door to where the rest of the band was pretending not to be interested in their conversation.

“And they’re really okay with giving us the only actual bedroom on the bus?”

“Sweet thing, they insisted”, Eddie said, laying back to spread out on the sheets. “I think they’re enamored with you.”

Steve beamed as he sat on the edge of the bed, lasting only a few seconds before Eddie grabbed at him. Joy bubbled forth from Steve and he didn’t even mind if Jeff and the others heard Eddie macking on him right now.

“I’ve never been on a tour bus before.”

"Well allow me to give you the official welcome", Eddie said before rolling Steve onto his back and kissing at his neck. "We got hours to ourselves, baby."

"Oh, whatever will we do?", Steve sighed.

Eddie rose up on his hands and knees to look down at the gorgeous man under him. And just in time for the bus to lurch forward and make him fall over the side of the bed with a yelp. Grant came to the door.

"You guys, uh, want this closed?", he asked, ignoring Eddie crumpled on the floor.

---------------------

For about the first hour, Steve watched the scenery go by the window and Eddie went over the basics of their itinerary. Starting from New York, they'd be cruising down the east coast.

"It's probably not as grand as the worldly traveling you've done before but I intend to show you a good time", Eddie promised, tracing the lines in Steve's palm.

"Actually, I haven't traveled all that much", Steve admitted. "When you're raising up a proper omega, you can't just let them loose unsupervised. I've been to California and Washington a couple of times with my parents but besides that..."

"Then I'm really gonna show you a good time."

"You can start right now. Bus isn't stopping for a few hours, right?" Steve pushed Eddie onto his back and rolled on top of him. In preparation for this trip both of them had been tested and been given a clean bill of health. Steve's cunt was already clenching at the thought of finally getting Eddie's bare knot. Of feeling his cum coating his insides.

There was something primal about it this time, as Eddie was fucking Steve. Not in any way that was ferocious or intense but in the setting and situation. Grant, Jeff, and Gareth had only great things to say about Steve, seemingly already accepting him as a pack omega. Being given the only private space on the bus, this room was like his own personal den, admittance to him and his omega only.

With his best friends just outside the door, surely knowing what they were getting up to even though there was plenty of noise to cover it, it was like they were sentinels guarding. How could his hindbrain think of this as anything less than a breeding session?

Steve was on his hands and knees, arching his back as Eddie thrust into him. He had started out trying to be quiet, but was sobbing now, begging Eddie not to stop.

Delirious with desire, Eddie started biting at the moles on Steve's back, leaving marks of his own. When he got to his neck, he put his teeth away but nudged at Steve's mating gland. A move so bold and unexpected, it had Steve crying out as he milked his cock. Eddie's teeth itched to sink down and make it official but he bit into Steve's shoulder instead, almost but not drawing blood.

He was still thinking about it hours later, when they arrived in New York and started preparing for the show. Tonight was just rehearsal and sound check for the real thing tomorrow night. Steve wanted to go and even pouted to get his way, but Eddie was certain he'd be bored and not so subtly told him about the hotel's spa.

After a massage, he went into the sauna and saw that there was another omega already inside.

"Did your alpha miss?", she asked the moment he sat down.

"Hm?"

She tapped the bite mark on his shoulder. "Did he miss?"

It wasn't proper to ask about bite marks in any capacity, only for the own of such marks to offer if they felt the information relevant.

"I don't have an alpha", Steve said, though it felt wrong to say.

"So just someone who's keeping you for now?", she asked.

Steve thought about it. Between the gifts and traveling and shopping, he was being wonderfully kept. "I suppose so."

"You must be new at this. I'm Heather. Can I offer you a bit of advice?"

"Steve and um, sure I guess."

"You can't let your generous sponsor bite you like that. The next one that comes won't like it. Might even give you something more permanent just to compete."

"You've had a lot of... 'sponsors'?", Steve asked.

"Mostly CEOs, an actor once. You?"

"He's a musician."

"Really? Anyone I know?", she looked intrigued.

Steve thought about how he'd known zilch about Corroded Coffin or Eddie before meeting him, but then remembered how his attention on the latest music trends was also next to nothing.

"You might. I'm not actually sure how popular they are." He hadn't seen the venue to know how many concert attendees to expect.

"Oh, well, you know what they say. If they haven't got a million than a half will do."

"Right", Steve gave a half-hearted laugh. It had him thinking for the first time if he'd be into Eddie at all were it not for the money. If all he had to offer was that one drink the night they met...

Steve thought about how they'd spent a decent part of the trip discussing chocolate chips versus chocolate chunks and how they'd gotten the rest of the band involved to the point where they had to make the bus stop at the nearest grocery store. It felt safe to say that even without the money lining his pockets, Eddie would have charmed him some kind of way.

That night, they got in bed early but were awakened by the sounds of the others coming into their hotel suite to make breakfast.

"And how did you know we weren't in the middle of coitus?", Eddie flicked a grape at Gareth.

"That was a chance we were willing to take", Jeff said.

Eddie was shirtless, walking around in Garfield patterned pajama pants. Steve had the decency to put one of the hotel's bathrobes.

"This is a CC tradition", Grant said. "Breakfast before the inaugural show of a tour. Then dinner after the last one."

"Everyone shows up, no exceptions", Gareth said.

"None?", Steve asked, accepting a mug of coffee that Eddie had made.

"One time Jeff got into a brawl right after the show. We had our dinner at the hospital", Eddie said.

"Well I'm honored to be a part of such a hallowed tradition", Steve smiled at the implication.

Day turned to night and they arrived at the venue. Steve looked out into the vast sea of empty seats and imagined them filled with screaming people. Eddie gave him a quick tour of backstage and even let him come up on the actual stage itself.

"Can't believe you actually perform like this, I could never."

"Oh I was born to entertain", Eddie grinned. And tonight, he planned on showing out. It would be Steve's first time, seeing and hearing them live. His blood pulsed as the hour got closer.

Show him my talents. Show him I'm worthy. Worthy to be his alpha.

Steve was all set up in the green room but of course had a pass that allowed him to roam backstage if he pleased. The boys also used the space to get ready for the show and he saw that they all had a pin with a horned red demonic head.

"What's this?", Steve asked, fiddling with the pin on Eddie's vest.

"Something from our old high school club. Keeps us from forgetting our roots."

"That's...really sweet." They'd known each other for so long. Steve was realizing how incredible it was that he'd been allowed into the fold like this.

The show finally started and at first, Steve watched a feed from the green room. He'd listened to a few songs but it was still a surprise to hear the way Jeff growled into the mic. It was hard for him to take his eyes off Eddie though. And soon, watching from a TV, no matter how clear the image was, wasn't enough. He put in the earplugs Eddie had given him and he left the green room.

Like a magnet, he went to the wings of the stage, still mostly hidden, but he could see everyone in the band from where he was standing. The crowd was a sea of energy and Eddie looked like there was no place he'd rather be. That is until he caught sight of Steve. His feet were frozen in place now but his hands kept moving against the guitar.

Steve bit his lip, thinking about how those same fingers moved on his body and made him sing in much the same way. Tonight he was going to give this man the ride of his life. His thighs rubbed together just thinking about it and Eddie's eyes caught the movement. Then his gaze met Steve and Steve just winked coyly.

The song ended and both of them were brought back to the present moment. Taking a breath, Steve took a step back and returned to the green room. It was a lot, being right there. He couldn't imagine how it must feel to actually be on stage. The concert went on and after thanking their fans for a stellar time, Corroded Coffin bid them good night. Eddie was the first one through the door which was good because Steve had been standing right behind it.

"Well?", he asked, wrapping his arms around the omega.

"You guys were great! Incredible!"

"Aw shucks, you're just sayin' that", Gareth smiled.

Steve was saying something in response, but Eddie only caught part of it. He was always keyed up after a good performance and needed something to help him burn off the extra energy. Usually in the form of an after-party or sex. He nuzzled at Steve's neck, holding him close. He did good. Steve thought he'd done good. No, he said great. Incredible. Steve had even come to see him with his own eyes. And he'd gotten turned on watching him play, Eddie knew it. He'd responded to his call.

"Are you, are you scenting me?", Steve asked quietly.

Eddie paused. They always carried each other's scent for a little while after sex, but this had been more purposeful. Eddie finally recognized the familiar itch under his skin and pushed Steve away, nearly throwing him at Grant.

"I gotta go", he said, leaving the room quick as lightning.

"What was that all about?", Steve asked, looking to the others. But they were just as confused as him.

Chrissy came in just about a minute after, her face like stone as she closed the door behind her. "The schedule's going to need some adjusting", she said. "Eddie just went into rut."

Part 8

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @marklee-blackmore @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx

[dokidokidraft]

MHA boys HC pt.3

includes: Keigo Takami/Hawks, Touya Todoroki/Dabi, Hanta Sero Warning: tiny bit of suggestive content for keigo! (meant to be fem!reader but no pronouns/body type mentioned)

~Keigo Takami/Hawks~

-Going flying with him before bed ✨ he’ll take you all around the city and back again. Even if he’s tired, you can’t get out of it.

-Always has to make sure a feather is on you at all times. You have a necklace with one of his. He often tickles you from it when he’s at work and bored

-Good morning and good night texts

-Dinner with him looks like him just scarfing everything down and going to bed. Unless he’s on a day off, then you guys might watch a movie later

-Loves chicken. If you make some for him he would have literal hearts in his eyes

-Please, I just want to steal his jacket

-Pretty lazy. After work he’ll just chill in the apartment. If you ask how his day was you’ll just get a “it was fine” and he won’t elaborate unless you really push it

-Chronic manspreader

-Lots of suggestive comments

-He’s definitely a bit of a perv once you get to know him. Just pervy words though, he’ll never act on them. “Hey baby bird, what if I told you those pants will be on the floor in a few hours?” Usually never means it though

-Probably doesn’t have time for a lot of dates, but he apologizes repeated and eventually makes it up to you

-Helps you with your makeup. He’s a model, so he probably can do it better than you (sry). He especially loves to do your eyeliner to match his

-Wears earrings (dying for this man rn) once he met you he made sure they matched with your outfits whenever you guys go out

-*winks*

~Touya Todoroki/Dabi~

-Doesn’t really like to go on dates, thinks they’re a waste of time. If you guys do go on a date, its late at night, somewhere outside

-OR shopping dates to hot topic (he will then parade you around in your new clothes, showing you off around the LoV is his favourite pass time)

-Teaches you how to fight. He’s kinda a bad teacher but he’s trying

-You often run your hands over his scarred torso and tell him he’s beautiful. He got emotional the first couple times (if his tear glands weren't burnt he would be crying)

-Definition of big spoon. But like…big spoon when you’re on top of him (?) you’re lying on his chest while he’s on the couch, his arms wrapped around you and just staring at the ceiling. You’re so small in his arms ^-^

-Give. Me. His. Leather. Jacket

-Emotionally closed off. You ain’t getting a reaction from him, I’m sorry

-Needs help with his hair. I’m 110% sure that it’s bleach/dye damaged

-He’ll steal buy you jewelry. Often times with a cerulean gem so it matches his eyes

-Encourages you sm. You wanna get a piercing? Already booking you an appointment. Tattoo? Yes ma’am. New dress? Suddenly the money has been sent to your account. You don’t even know where the money comes from (and you don’t dare ask)

-While you (might) want the safety of a studio, he gladly does his own piercings. They usually get infected though, so just be ready for some serious complaining

-Husky voice 24/7

~Hanta Sero~

-Attempted to do the Spider-Man kiss scene with you. Ended up falling down and getting a mild concussion ✨

-Lays in his hammock with you. He’s a lazy boy and takes lots of naps

-B e a n i e s

-Definitely goes skateboarding & tries to show you how

-Sleepovers with him are the best because he has endless snacks and drinks. Also has a dvd player for his fav movies

-Button 👏 up👏 shirts👏

-Will randomly start speaking in Spanish. Best part is the nicknames “Mi amor”. Even better if gives you little hand kisses

-He’ll always “forget his notes” so you have to go over to his dorm and help him. Always ends up with the 2 of you making out though ;-;

-Flirty as hell (but only around the bakusquad so he can show u off)

-Reads tons of manga (canon) so he’ll probably read em with you 🫰

-He’s honestly super chill and won’t get jealous easily. He’ll give people little glares but that’s about it

-Does the Killua walk (you know what I’m talking about)

-Tape fixes everything

-“your mom” whenever he’s losing an argument

Hope you guys enjoyed!

@Kimyou draft I have neverwritten hcs for Sero before so I hope these were up to your expectations!

[maybege]

What If - Part 4

Summary: Mandalore approached and you cannot help but feel like something is about to go terribly wrong.  

Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader

Wordcount: 6.2k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), (semi-)public sex, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, knotting, cockwarming, dirty talk, praise kink, Angst with a capital A, fluffy fluf

As we say in German “Was lange wärht, wird endlich gut” which is what I am using as my excuse for why this took so long. The truth is: depression is a bitch, real life is a bitch and creativity and time for writing are like the same side of two magnets that do not want to even go near each other. Anyway, we made it!!!

There are a few people I gotta thank for this. First and foremost the iconic, the brilliant @mostly-megan who not only suffers through all the random AU ideas I have (and there are a LOT of them) but also brainstorms with me. The Ragnar Scene and also a very (very!) lovely scene towards the end of this part would not exist without her and for that, I am very grateful. Then, of course, the ever-present, ever-lurking genius that is the Boba Tea Anon who is in the Paz trenches right there with me and encourages me in everything I do (even if it is just a – I promise one day I will do a Lord Huron Paz piece!). Also, a very special shout out to Neyo (@galacticgraffiti) who gave the Mando kids their names, suffers through The Horn Knee with me and is always there to cheer me on. And then, of course, all you Paz girlies (gn) who make me feel like a sane person while I ramble about a faceless man who appeared for a total of 23 minutes (if that) and is – canonically – dead anyway. You make sharing my writing worthwhile in the first place and I will be forever grateful for getting to share my writing with you.

And with that – on to the last part (and the new canon for me lol). Please let me know what you thought in a comment or a reblog!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

There was a certain impatience to him you had not expected at the last meal. When the announcement came that you were approaching Mandalore, Paz – who had spent the dinner between you and Ragnar – had pulled you into his lap, his arms like iron around your body. Ragnar had wandered off to the front with all the other foundlings, expectantly looking up at the clan leaders.

You had turned your face into Paz’s neck, trying to get his scent on you. You could not believe how you had only known this man for a few days – a week, at most! – and yet his scent was the only thing that seemed to calm you down. And it was no different for him.

The alpha’s hand immediately found your scent gland and you shivered as the soft leather brushed over your skin. It did not take long until he pulled his gloves off, settling them into your lap, before resuming his motions.

The nervous energy in the room was palpable but it was practically radiating off him and it inevitably affected you as well. Where you had been excited, if a bit reluctant, a few weeks ago at the prospect of reclaiming Mandalore, now there was only a strange sense of dread in your stomach. One that even the alpha could not dissolve.

“When you wake up tomorrow, some of us will set foot on our homeland for the first time in too many years,” Briggs announced, his serious gaze roaming over the packed hall, “I cannot promise you it will be easy. I cannot promise we will all wake up to the sight of Mandalore. But we will die trying.”

You could see Ragnar looking back at his father who tilted his head. A gesture meant to be reassuring but only resulted in you questioning whether Paz would be one of those dying. You shifted nervously, causing Paz to tighten his hold on your waist.

“Calm down, love,” he rumbled quietly behind you, “It will be alright.”

Forcing yourself to nod, you gripped his large hand tightly, trying to burn into your brain what it was like to touch him,

“Rest well and rest assured that tomorrow will mark the start of a brand new era,” Briggs raised his glass, “And let us toast to our home!”

“To our home!”

Everyone lifted their glasses and the conversations resumed, a constant background roar that reminded you of the countless fates that were tied to the success of this mission. A strange feeling started in your chest, and not the kind that Paz’s presence usually caused.

You shifted again, watching as the crowd dissipated and the foundlings were walked off to bed. Their excited chatter moved down the hall and something cold clenched your heart when you watched Ragnar wave at his father.

Immediately everything quieted down. With everyone returning to their own conversations and the hall being considerably more empty now, Paz did not waste any time. His hands landed on your thighs and you managed a wobbly smile.

 “What is going on in your pretty head?” he asked you, his fingers skimming over your thighs, “You’ve been squirmy all evening.”

“Who says something is on my mind?”, you popped a berry into your mouth, grimacing at the sudden sour taste.

“True,” he laughed, “You might have just spent dinner thinking about when you can finally sit on my cock again.”

“Paz!” you gasped, “you cannot – I mean – what if –“ You glanced around with flushed cheeks, relieved to see that no one had seemed to hear his indecent theory.

He laughed again and the sound made your heart and body melt. “I will never tire of making you flustered,” he murmured, his big hands pulling you closer, “Though I actually would not mind having you cockwarm me tonight, sweet omega,” his fingers brushed the underside of your breasts and you shivered, “I would be lying if I said I could ever get enough of you.”

“I actually had something similar in mind,” you admitted shyly, slipping off his lap and enjoying the way his hands followed you and his body leant into you. As if he wanted to keep touching you, as if he never wanted to let you go. Your heart skipped a beat and you smiled.

“I … would like to try something?”

He leant back, his legs spreading with the movement and your teeth dug into your bottom lip at the sight of the obvious bulge in his pants. “Oh yeah, omega, and what would that be?”

You made a few steps away, making sure that your robe (a dark blue, just like his armour) swished around your form as enticingly as possible. Paz’s head turned to follow your movement from your place in front of him to a chair in a dark alcove, dressed in shadows where you knelt down right in front of it.

The big alapha hummed, rising to his feet, knowing exactly what it was you had in mind. “I think I can get behind that idea.”

From the other sounds that were floating through the cantina, you knew that illicit things were already well underway. Most of them likely more graphic and adventurous than what you had in mind. Still, you felt a little nervous at the prospect of sucking Paz Vizsla’s cock.

But for some reason, this was exactly what you needed. You wanted to bring him pleasure, so much pleasure.

You watched as he pulled off his cape, folding it expertly before motioning for you to stand. He dropped it on the floor, his hand steadying your elbow as you sunk down on the soft fabric. “Don’t want you uncomfortable,” he announced, before sitting down in the chair.

He looked big like this, bigger than usual. And oh so confident it already made your panties wet. His knees spread, the trunks he called thigh caging you in and you watched with bated breath as his fingers undid his codpiece, expertly freeing his cock.

He was already hard and dripping precome, the knot at the base slightly inflated and you squeezed your thighs. It was not like you had never seen his cock before and it certainly was not as if he had not fucked you before. Yet, the sheer size of him and the thought of taking him in your mouth overwhelmed you a little.

Where were you supposed to start?

But when one big rough hand closed around his shaft and Paz started to jerk off right in front of you, you could not help but to simply … dive in.

Opening your mouth as far as it would go, you closed your lips around his tip, one hand struggling to fit around him. The grunt he let out, paired with a twitch of his hips, had you smiling around him.

“Stars above,” he cursed, “Warn a man next time, won’t you, love?”

You looked up at him, teary-eyed, while your tongue licked the underside of him. Or at least the part you could reach. He was heavy in your mouth, heavy and big and he tasted of something that made you want more. Slowly, you moved forward trying to take more of him but soon enough, he bumped something at the back of your throat and you sputtered.

Before you could panic about breathing, Paz had pulled out of you, his large hand cupping your cheek while the other was still wrapped around the base of his cock. “Deep breaths, omega,” he soothed you, his hand leisurely stroking himself, “You are doing so good for, trying to take it all.”

“You’re so big,” you marvelled, wrapping your hands around him, “I want it all, alpha, I – Paz, I really want it all.”

“Want my help?” he asked, “Might have to be a little rougher, though, sweet omega, and I can smell how much that turns you on but I need you to tell me – Are you sure?”

You nodded eagerly, darting your tongue out to lick at him. “I am sure, alpha,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to the tip, “I promise.”

“If it is too much, tap my thigh three times, understood?”

You nodded again, shifting on your makeshift pillowed. Your thighs were already drenched at this point and you wondered whether you could come just from sucking him off. It seemed like you would be able to do a lot of things when it came to Paz.

His grip on your face loosened just the tiniest bit. “Open up for me,” he ordered, pulling your face towards him, “There we fucking go. Gorgeous.”

“I will never tire of this sight,” he groaned, “You struggling to take my size, trying to be so good for me,” he shifted, his hips surging forward and you smiled with pride when you did not gag this time, “Can I go deeper, love? Is that okay?”

With your position between his legs, your jaw wide open around him, you could not really nod. But Paz seemed to recognize the excited twinkle in your eye because you could hear the grin in his voice when he muttered a “Stars, you’re perfect.”

You took great care to keep your breathing even and through your nose, experimentally swirling your tongue around him every time he pulled out of your mouth. His thrusts grew heavier, his hold on you tighter and you swore you were this close to coming just from the sheer sight of his shaft covered in the sheen of you.

It was not long before he came in thick spurts on your tongue. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat working overtime as you did your best to swallow around him. “Good girl,” he praised you, “My good fucking girl.”

Your heart jumped in your chest as you licked him clean, not quite ready to let go of this intimacy.

His hand came to your chin, gently scooping up some of the come that had spilt from your lips. “Here you go,” he offered his coated thumb and you sucked the digit into your mouth without hesitation. You could never get enough of his taste.

“Let’s retire for the night, love,” he suggested, “We have a long day ahead of us.”

*

By the time you got settled in your bunk, you knew it was only a few hours before everything would start. Before you had to say goodbye.

Paz had excused himself, leaving you to get ready for bed alone before he appeared by your side, dressed completely in his armour.

“Are you okay?”

“Said goodbye to Ragnar,” he explained, sitting down on the little cot, hunching his shoulders over so he would not hit his head.

“Oh.”

Somewhere behind the curtains, someone snored.

Paz grunted when he laid down, his giant arm reaching out and pulling your back to his front.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, “It’s a tight fit.”

“It’ll be okay,” he murmured, grunting when he pulled the curtain closed, “I will not spend my last night without my calmer.”

“Aren't you uncomfortable?” you asked, your voice small, “With – with the armours and me and all the …”

“I will not spend my last night without my calmer,” he repeated, leaving no room for doubt. It took a bit of shuffling to turn you around but when you finally were facing him, you already felt much better. You tucked your face into his neck, breathing in his scent as he wrapped both arms around you.

Your heart was squeezing so hard in your chest that the emotional pain became physical.

What if this was his last night? What if you would never see him again?

And what if you did? Would it ever be like this again? Would he want to keep you as his calmer (or more?) when Mandalore was finally reclaimed?

Paz shifted, his large hands running over your back until one settled at the back of your neck.

“I got you,” he rumbled, “You’ll be safe, omega, I promise.”

You swallowed away the need to tell him that it wasn’t your safety you were worried about.

 *

The next morning was worse. It barely qualified as morning and you were sure you had not found any sleep. You had just been shifting all night from side to side, desperately burying your nose in his neck to soak up every little bit of his scent that he could give you.

You were not sure if Paz had slept either but when the alarms sounded in the room at the same time, it took him a minute to get up. Everyone was shuffling around the packed room silently, most of them already dressed and armoured. Ready to descend to the surface of Mandalore.

Despair was clawing at your insides. You felt like you were watching something from the outside that you knew would fail. That you knew would destroy everything you held close to your heart.

And yet, you watched helplessly as they lined up, preparing to board the ship that would take them into the atmosphere.

It was silent – eerie – as if everyone knew something big was about to happen. And you couldn’t move from his side. You couldn’t even if you wanted to. You needed to be here with him.

You watched as Paz double-checked his weapons and your mouth quirked up as you remembered how the man had seemed like a weapon on his own the very first time you had seen him. And how true it was, now that you saw guns and rifles packed to every piece of his armour that could carry it.

Your smile fell just as quickly as it had appeared. Would this be the last time you got to see him?

You had been scared a lot of times in your life. Like when your parents had taught you how to swim and you had been convinced you would sink to the bottom of the sea. Or when you had taken a bad fall in one of the hiding places and scuffed your knee. But that childish fear of creatures and heights was nothing compared to the existential dread that settled in your stomach.

It wasn’t fear that something could go wrong it was fear that you knew something was going to go wrong.

And could you really risk this?

“You, uh, you will come back, right?” you whispered, already hating how needy you sounded. But you needed to hear him say it. You needed Paz Vizsla’s words to be the ones to tie you to the hope of a future together.

“Someone already scared for me?” Paz tilted his head and while you knew this was supposed to be a joke, his voice did not sound very light. Like he knew it too. That feeling.

“Well, I mean you have Ragnar,” you shrugged, pulling the cloak closer around you, “And I mean your tribe needs you, you are a great warrior and –“

“Exactly,” he interrupted you gently. You watched as he approached you, his steps heavy and measured and you swallowed. “I am a great warrior,” he repeated with his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, “Which is why I will come back to you.”

“But –“

“Listen to me,” he whispered, his hand cupping the side of your neck, scenting you so gently your eyes fluttered close, “I vow to the stars, I will come back to you, love.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he boarded the ship.

*

If somebody asked you what happened during the time you were waiting, you would not be able to tell them. As soon as Paz embarked on the with the scouting group, it felt like time stood still. You barely knew what you were doing. You were pacing the entire length of the ship it seemed, Ragnar keeping you company for a few of those pacing trips before he distracted himself by playing with the other foundlings.

You tried to approach your feelings rationally. You had spent a lot of your time these past few days in close proximity with Paz. He was an alpha, you were an omega, obviously there were some biological components that could have contributed to your feelings for him.

But that was exactly it. Your feelings …

At the thought of Paz not coming back, it felt like your heart ripped into two. You could not fathom a world without him in it and, more importantly perhaps, you could not fathom your life without him in it. You wanted him to come back and when all the tribes settled in their parts of Mandalore, you wanted to be as close to him as now. You wanted to spend your evening with him and Ragnar and you wanted to know what his days were like, what his role was in his clan.

Whether he wanted to keep you in his life as well.

Waiting was pure torture. Communications were cut and all that remained was the cold silence of the ship. You avoided the cockpit and strategy meetings, Briggs (thankfully) seemed to understand your reluctance and did not press you on the matter. Until Axe Woves came to warn the ship of the Imperial that had settled on the planet and the fight that had broken loose.

That was the meeting you had insisted on attending, hoping that – in whatever capacity – the stoic alpha might drop some comments about the people on the surface.

“Is,” you swallowed, “Is he well?”

The beskar-clad man, much to your frustration, said nothing at all.

Which was not very helpful.

The fight continued and troops were dispatched and you stayed, keeping the foundlings safe and quiet. In fitful dreams, you heard yourself confessing your love to him just before he disappeared never to return again. You woke up with cold sweats until you crawled into his bunk, pressing your nose into his pillow and willing yourself to think of a future in which he came back to you unharmed.

Sometimes, you could hear Sluice and Chants converse about what to do if it all failed. Whether to settle back in Nevarro was another possibility or if the tribes should stick together to find a new home.

All you could think was that you would not leave Paz on this planet.

You could not leave him.

It was morning when the announcement came. You had buried yourself in his cot, his sheets pressed to your nose as you took trembling breaths when the PA system stuttered to life, the mechanical voice echoing through the empty hallways.

You had retaken Mandalore. The air was breathable and you could safely land on the surface to meet the victorious troops.

The joy and excitement that spread through your entire body could not be described. Nothing could happen to wipe the smile off your face as you frantically searched for the one good dress you wanted to wear when you saw Paz again. You wanted to please him and kiss him and tell him you loved him. And maybe, if you were very lucky, he loved you too.

Stars, how you hoped he would.

But that elation stopped short when you set foot onto Mandalore. You could not even look at the surrounding landscapes, the fallen home of your ancestors – when you spotted the group but no Paz. A quick glance around did not reveal him either and suddenly the feeling of dread was back again.

Briggs was standing there too, and you knew the man long enough that when you saw his eyes getting glassy at your sight, he did not need to say anything anymore for the tears to fall.

This was it then.

You always wondered what it would feel like to live with a broken heart. Now you knew.

The pain in your heart was unbearable and you suddenly wished that you had never left the bunk this morning. That you were still curled up in his scent and his blankets without the knowledge that the alpha you wanted to spend your life with was dead.

“Where is my buir?” Ragnar asked somewhere behind you and you could hear it in his voice. How he tried to sound strong but he was just a child. A child without his father.

He made his way to the front and stopped by your side. You put your hands on his shoulder.

“I am sure he will be fine,” you assured him, not believing your own words, “He – he must have … another mission somewhere, right?” you looked to Axe Woves who avoided your gaze, “Right?”

Ragnar grabbed your hand. “Bu said if he is late, I need to distract you.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we're family,” he said it so effortlessly, “and because I know he will come back but you might worry and you shouldn’t worry.”

You were not sure what happened first: the stopping of your heart or the break in your breath. Paz told him you were his family? Ragnar considered you … his family?

“Do you wanna play a board game?” the boy asked and the breath rushed back into your lungs, “Bu taught me a few games for when I wait for him to come back.”

“He did?” you asked, your voice faint as you followed him back to where someone had set up a small open-air cantina at the ramp of the ship. You ignored the looks Briggs and Chants gave you. Ignored the way that Bo Katan bowed her head as if to pay respect to you as if you had something to mourn.

Not now, you told yourself as your heart cracked in your chest. Maybe tomorrow you could bury yourself in Paz’s bunk, breathing in his scent until there was nothing left but your own grief.

Tomorrow, you promised yourself, Tomorrow I will know he is dead.

*

The sun was setting over the mountains and Ragnar made no sign of stopping the game anytime soon. He had patiently explained the elaborate card game to you before dealing the cards. And then he had continued to play with you the entire day. Sometimes, people joined you for a round or two. The first had been Din Djarin – the man with the green baby. He had not said anything but you could feel the sadness coming off him in waves.

Then there had been The Armourer who had stayed for only one round, occasionally speaking to Ragnar about his helmet ceremony (the first having been interrupted only a few weeks prior). She was followed by Sluice, Bo Katan and finally, Briggs.

“Mind if I join?” the older man had asked, only sitting down when you nodded.

“Not at all,” Ragnar spoke up, relieving you of the to find the energy, “Do you know the rules?”

Briggs had left after two rounds, his warm hand on your shoulder the only indication of what he had come here to say. My condolences for your loss.

The tears had burned hot in your eyes but you forced yourself to keep playing. Ragnar won most rounds and the one he did not, you were fairly sure he lost on purpose. “No worries,” he assured you with childish wisdom, “Sometimes it takes a little longer to get the rules.”

“That is okay,” you forced yourself to smile, “How about we take a break for some food?”

“Good idea!” the boy jumped up, “I will get some of the berries and you stay here and watch the cards!”

Before you could protest, he had raced to the small buffet table.

You both welcomed and feared the moment of solitude this afforded you. It allowed you to take a deep breath, to let your shoulders and your guard fall. Maybe even a few tears if you were quick about it. You did not want Ragner to see you like this. He seemed to be determined that his father was alive and well – that he would return – that you could not bear to be the one to break his heart.

“Bu!” Ragnar shouted and you whipped around immediately. It took you a moment to find Ragnar but when you did, he had his arms wrapped around the legs of a large man. A man dressed in dark blue armour.

 “Paz,” you sighed, feeling tons lighter. Ragnar threw himself at his father who caught him though you did not fail to notice the way his legs almost buckled.

Stars he was hurt.

A new wave of panic washed over you and you did not realise you had stood up until the stoll toppled behind you. Several pairs of eyes were on you but you only cared about one.

Paz set Ragnar down and whispered something to him. You watched as the boy nodded, skipping off to Din and the Armourer. And then Paz walked towards you. Though walk seemed too weak a word for the way his heavy steps came closer and closer, his looming figure soon right in front of you.

Paz was right in front of you.

“You,” he growled, taking your hand without slowing his stride, “Come with me.”

“Paz, what happened?” you asked, trying to look him over, “Are you hurt? Did – Were those Imperials we spotted on the radar? Axe Woves and Briggs and – oh stars, we need to get you checked out and wait – are you bleeding? Where does it hurt maybe I can –“

A door swished open and you glanced around in confusion. This was not the infirmary. This was not even a proper room if the cleaning supplies on the shelves were anything to go by.

“Paz, you need – oh!” your hands gripped his shoulders tightly when he lifted you onto a surface. Was it a table? A counter? Stars, you could not bring yourself to care. Not when he was standing in front of you, panting like he had the fight of his life behind him.

Which he probably did.

Your heart clenched again, from fear or joy you could not tell.

His large hand fiddled with your dress and with a rip, your entire front piece was hanging off you in tatters.

“Alpha,” you cried, moving your hands from his shoulders to his chest, “Alpha, are you all right? I was so worried.”

The big man stepped between your open legs and you took a deep breath. The smell of adrenaline burned your nose but you could not help but notice the arousal that was in the air as well. He was angry and determined and the way he did not even look at his hands when he tugged on his belt made you glad you were already sitting down.

“Keep calling me that and I will be,” he grunted, opening the snaps of his armour and finally his fly.

Your eyes were fixated on his hand around his cock. “Pull down your dress,” he instructed instead, “I want to see your tits.”

You hurried to do so, almost ripping the fabric entirely in the process but you could not care less. Not when you had your dream of an alpha standing between your open legs, getting ready to fuck you. The ruined fabric pooled around your hips and the cool air made your nipple pebble. But then Paz was right there, the bulk of his body between yours and you could feel his cock against the inside of your thigh.

He pushed the tip of his cock against your folds, slowly circling your clit and you whimpered. Why did everything he did feel so good? “Ready?” he asked, spreading your wetness around and you found yourself wishing that you could see. That you could see how big he was against you, how his hand gripped himself, how his brows might furrow in determination and the set of his lips as he pushed inside you.

But you could not have everything in life. And for this moment, the feeling of his cock stretching your walls was enough. He was here, he was alive and he made you feel so stars forsaken good.

“Fuck,” you sighed, “Paz …”

“That’s good, huh?” he grumbled, slowly pulling out before pushing back in. You could feel your walls ease around him, your juices covering his shaft and the gland on your neck pulsed with the need to have him scent you.

He remained still for a few moments and you took a deep breath, breathing him in again and trying to get yourself to realize that he was alive. Your alpha was alive.

Paz started to move, then, and slowly pushed inside you again before building up a steady rhythm that had him deep, deep inside you. And all you could think, between bouts of pleasure, was that he was alive. Paz was alive.

“Fuck,” you whispered, your hand shaking as you gripped the edge of the table, overcome with emotion, “A-alpha, I was so scared. “

A particularly hard thrust had your hands fly around his neck. “I was protecting you,” he replied, his voice shaking, “You were never in any danger, omega, I would not allow it.”

“I wasn’t scared for me, you di’kut,” you cursed as you hastily wiped away the tears streaming down your face, “I was scared for you!”

Paz grunted at your admission, pushing inside you again and pulling you as close as he could with the armour in the way. “And I was scared of never seeing you again,” he confessed into the darkness between your faces, “That I was breaking my promise to you.”

“Wh-What,” you gasped, feeling his cock grow inside you, “Alpha, what is happening?”

“Oh fuck,” he grunted, “Sorry, ‘mega, sorry, I didn't mean to – oh shit, love, you gotta stop squeezing me.”

Easier said than done. In fact, it seemed impossible. Because as soon as you realized that it was his knot swelling inside of you, all you could think about was what it would be like to be knotted by him. Which turned you on beyond belief.

The mental image of him filling you up to the brim, the giant size of him staying inside you, made your walls flutter and your high approach so much faster. Paz’s movements did not stop and you could feel the ring at his base growing and growing, catching on your entrance with every thrust and making you yearn to keep him inside.

“Alpha, will you – Can you – oh!” he hit that spot inside you again that made your blood sing and you fell back against the wall, completely at his mercy.

And then the light went out.

Your body tensed with fright and you squeaked, thinking something had gone horribly wrong. But Paz did not seem deterred and you faintly remembered that the light switch was somewhere on his side of the room.

There was a sound you could not pinpoint, followed by a loud clatter and then his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you to him and you squirmed at how he folded you in half, his cock still nestled deep inside you and then he was … kissing you.

You gasped, the feeling of his lips familiar against yours and everything you had dreamed of.

“Fuck it feels good to fill you up,” he murmured, the praise making your cheeks warm.

Your legs were still trembling around his hips and you tightened your hold around his neck. Your nose bumped against his scent gland. Add that to the feeling of his smile against your shoulder and even retaking Mandalore could never rival the feeling of being scented by him.

“That good, huh?” he teased you, his lips moving against your skin.

He had some stubble that tickled your sensitive skin and you gasped, the sensation opening you up even more.

And then he pushed inside you one last time as you came around him. The knot at his base swelled with no signs of stopping, locking you together as he filled you up. You shivered at the feeling of him twitching inside you, spurts of come filling you up in a way you had never experienced before, increasing the pressure inside you that made your walls clench. He continued to rut against you, causing your clit to rub against his pelvis again and again, prolonging your peak.

After what felt like an eternity, you came down from your high, relishing in the feeling of him still pulsing inside of you. It was strange, something you had never experienced before, but the closeness made you sigh contentedly against his lips.

Paz was quiet save for a few grunts, his hands grabbing your hips, keeping you as close as possible.

“I’ve never been knotted before,” you admitted between kisses.

“Really?” Paz asked, his mouth pausing on yours, “How does it feel?”

“It feels kinda nice, alpha,” you whispered, pulling his face closer to yours again.

Paz did not say anything for a moment, his laboured breath loud in the small room. Then his hands cupped your face and you could feel his eyes on you and you wondered if he was able to see you despite the darkness. Probably not, after all, it was his visor that usually enabled him to do so. But he made you feel seen with how his thumbs brushed over the apples of your cheeks, still wet with tear tracks or how his lips softly landed on yours.

“I don’t think I told you yet,” he said against your mouth, “But you are beautiful. To me, you are the – the most stunning omega I have ever seen. When I was down there – when I … I dreamt of what it would be like to see you with my own eyes.”

A flutter started in your chest. An awful flutter of hope that had you thinking of futures beyond the next few days. He could not mean what you thought he meant, right?

“But you helmet –“ you started, trying to rationalize away the hope in your voice.

But Paz had other plans. “I want to court you,” he said, sounding as determined as ever, “Stars, I want to properly court you, love, whatever that entails for your clan but I asked Briggs and –“

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure that I did everything right,” he explained, his hand warm on your back, “So I asked him about any customs I might have to know, that last night before we left and – and for a second there it looked like I would never get to ask you. But I can, love, I can ask you now. Will you let me court you, ‘mega? Will you let me spend the rest of my life with you and Ragnar and all the other foundlings the stars let us have?”

“You – you want children, too?” you asked, feeling like the breath was stolen out of your lungs, “M-more than Rganar, I mean?”

You could feel his smile against your neck, the tip of his nose buried in the valley beneath your ear. “Course I do,” he confirmed, “Ragnar is the biggest gift of my life, I won't say no to that joy again.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest and you could feel your walls clench around him. Paz moaned, his cock twitching inside you. “Is that a yes, then?” he asked carefully, his hand wandering up to cup the back of your neck. He moved away from you,

“Yes,” you breathed out with the biggest smile on your face, “Yes, Paz.”

The scent that surrounded you made you euphoric and you realized that it had been Paz all along. That sweet scent that made your heart beat faster and a smile appear on your lips? Paz fucking Vizsla.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la,” he asked you quietly, his breath warm on your face, “Look at me, sweetheart.”

And you did. Your eyes blinked open and it took you both an eternity and a second to get your eyes used to the seemingly blinding light of the storage room. But then your eyes met his and you saw Paz Vizsla for the first time.

He had dark eyes, just like you had daydreamed, and his hair looked just as soft as it had always felt. It was matted to his forehead in places and he looked … exhausted, like he had not slept in days. There were bruises on his cheekbones and you could see some dried blood and dirt on his jaw. But all of that was overshadowed by the brightest, biggest grin on his face.

It made the corners of his eyes crinkle and you could not help but smile back, absolutely in awe of the man in front of you. What were you supposed to say the first time you saw the face of the man you had fallen hopelessly in love with?

“You are handsome,” is what you settled on finally, carefully brushing your fingertip over his crooked nose.

He huffed out a laugh, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “Thank you, my love,” he rumbled and your heart skipped a beat at him calling you his. Because you were, truly, whether you had realised it before or not, his.

“I love you,” you blurted out, feeling oddly shy.

“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, “There is no version of this life in which I do not love you.”

“You will have to tell me about your scars,” you whispered, your eyes roaming over his face, catching on one that cut through his eyebrow, “Every single one.”

“I will,” he promised, kissing you again, “We have a lifetime for it.”

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Peeping by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 16k, Harry/Louis]

Louis hates his job as an accountant and desperately wants to be a teacher. Of course, that would mean going back to uni, which he can’t afford if he wants to keep up the mortgage payments on his house. It’s Niall that suggests Louis gets a housemate.

Harry is great around the house, loves cooking and cleaning, and everything is fine, lovely even. That is until Louis locks himself out of the house, and in his attempts to get inside, he stumbles upon Harry wanking to a video of Louis playing footy.

OR Louis has a thing for his housemate, Harry is under the impression that clothing around the house is an optional extra, and neither of them seem to be able to stop wanking long enough to get their shit together and admit their true feelings.

＊ Unbonded by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 24k, Louis/Harry]

“Look,” Louis says firmly. “Last time I checked, I’m still the pack leader, so you damn well better listen to me. It was Harry who worked out what I’d been poisoned with, then nursed me back to health. And it was Harry who thwarted the plan for my second assassination attempt by literally throwing himself in front of an arrow intended for me, nearly dying in the process, which is why we’re even having this argument in the first place. So if you think I’m going to set foot outside of this hut until he’s fully healed, you’ve all seriously misread the situation, and even more importantly, you’ve all seriously misread me.”

OR the one where Harry is an omega who has been cast out from his pack, Louis is the alpha leader of the pack where Harry finds a new home, Liam is an alpha with heart of gold, and Niall is a cook who can't seem to stop setting himself on fire.

＊ frightened by the bite, no harsher than the bark by localopa / @voulezloux [T, 21k, Louis/Harry]

louis loves going to the barricade during his shows. if it’s because he’s got a bit (lot) of touch deprivation and is using it as an excuse to have his big alpha bodyguard, harry, touch him, well, that’s a secret he doesn’t need to tell.

＊ the past might be painful, but i’m in love with our future by localopa / @voulezloux [T, 10k, Harry/Louis]

it takes a lot of convincing for louis to let harry take him to his first pride. harry understands his worries and fears. really, he does. he just wants to show his boyfriend that he doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

a don’t be afraid to love (and love again) time stamp. Part 2 of trans louis verse

＊ If Life Is a Photograph by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Harry gets plucked out of the crowd to take Louis’ crew pic on stage in Guadalajara.

＊ It Was Electric Touch by @allwaswell16 [E, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Harry, assistant to The Snuts' manager, has been indulging in fantasies about the headliner and founder of the Away From Home Festival, Louis Tomlinson. He gets the chance to indulge in the real thing at the after party.

＊ Tastes Like Violets by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Pop star Harry Styles has a bit of a crush on his makeup artist's brother.

Or Louis has a death metal band, Harry doesn't mind public challenges via Twitter, and Lottie thinks they're both hopelessly chaotic.

＊ Coração selvagem by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter [NR, 50k, Louis/Harry]

Louis keeps his eyes on the Wolf, careful about every movement he makes. He keeps his head tilted, deliberately showing the right side of his neck; the mating gland is on the other side, but this still shows he’s not a threat. Zayn answers at the third ring. “Lou?” he asks, confusion seeping into his voice. “Zed,” Louis says quietly, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible. “Zed, I’ve found Harry. He’s feral.”

Or, Louis' life in his newfound Pack gets disrupted by an old flame coming back for him, shifted and feral.

＊ No Surprises by @louislittletomlintum [E, 21k, Harry/Louis]

The thing was, Louis worked in an office, and it was fine. It could be worse.

But maybe, it could be better.

“I smoke socially, sometimes. Depends who I’m with,” Harry shrugged, taking another puff. Louis watched his soft little lips wrap around it and purse just slightly on the inhale. It wasn’t the first time he considered if Harry was perfectly made just to torment him.

“Hm. I won’t send you to jail for now, then. On crimes of fibbing,” Louis decided benevolently. He was about to open his mouth to spout off some other shite before he saw Harry had a bit of a pensive look in his features despite how his eyes were a little glassy.

“Lou,” he began, and god Louis loved that he’d earned that little nickname off of him. “Can I ask you summat?” Harry added, tapping the ash of the cigarette in the tray before taking another puff.

“You just did,” Louis smiled because Harry walked right into that one. “But I’ll give you another,”

“How did you know you were queer?”

or; an office au where louis is a loveable brat and harry is working himself out

＊ Listening to Intuition by @lululawrence [NR, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Now that Zayn was laying it all out like this, Louis got to wondering… could it be possible that he was never able to get a really good handle on what exactly aromanticism was because he’d never felt romantic attraction, and without that key piece, how could he possibly figure out what it truly meant to be lacking it?

Louis has a good grasp of his own identity and how all the pieces of him fit together in his life as a queer man in a committed relationship with his partner. Or so he thinks until his favorite aroace TikTok creator shows him another possibility he may have previously overlooked. Part 1 of Looking for a Good Time

＊ Smells Like TEAM Spirit by @persephoneflouwers [NR, 10k, Harry/Louis]

Punk Louis and quarterback Harry have been secretly dating for years. Feeling overwhelmed by his commitments, Harry suggests a short break, fearing he can't give Louis enough time. As Louis reflects on his vulnerabilities, Harry struggles on the field without him. Part 1 of ~ Pocket Tales unfolding on Screen ~

＊ If Control is My Religion… by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 14k, Louis/Harry]

“So just to recap, you’ve been vomiting every single morning, and then you seem to be fine for the rest of the day?”

Louis nods. “Except for yesterday when Liam was eating a tuna sandwich after practice and it smelled vile. Who the hell even likes tuna sandwiches?”

Niall sighs in the way that a disappointed parent might. “Louis, please don’t take this in the wrong way, because I’m not judging you at all. But is there any possibility that you’re pregnant?”

Louis scoffs. Technically, it is possible. Louis’ known he was a male carrier since his routine physical when he was sixteen. But it isn’t actually possible, not really. He and Harry always use a condom.

Except for that one day a few weeks ago when Louis had forgotten to buy more and they couldn’t wait. And the time the week before that when the condom had broke, but they both figured it was probably fine.

Shit.

(Or the one where Louis is a professional football player, who’s in a very mutually beneficial no-strings-attached relationship with the team’s medical trainer Harry. Everything in Louis’ life is exactly how he wants it. Until he finds himself unexpectedly pregnant).

＊ Forward by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14 [E, 10k, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis must keep moving forward.

Quiet scenes from an older Louis and Harry, who are always working to be better together.

＊ Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before) by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [E, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Leo’s frown. His attempt to call after Louis. Ed saying he was surprised to see Louis here. All those little moments fell into place the moment he spotted Harry Styles.

Harry Styles, his former bandmate.

Harry Styles, who he hadn’t seen face to face in over three years.

Harry Styles, who was technically still Harry Tomlinson-Styles.

OR Louis and Harry run into each other at the Euros, there's a mix up at the hotel and they have a past

＊ Following the Good Vibes by @lululawrence [NR, 6k, Harry/Louis]

"Oh my god, I can't believe it's really you!" Zayn said with a wide smile, hands on his hips as if he was truly stunned over the fact this guy was sitting just a couple of seats behind him. "I thought it might be when I heard your voice, but I haven't seen you in years! How are you doing..."

It was then Zayn realized he didn't have a fucking clue what this guy's name was and he was pretending they were long lost friends.

After an awkward pause, Zayn finally tacked on, "...Chad!"

When Zayn rescues a stranger named Harry from an awkward plane ride beside a total dick, he doesn't think much of it. Harry as the chance to pay it forward on a later flight, and in doing so he just might set into motion pieces that will determine the path his future takes. Part 2 of Looking for a Good Time

＊ It's Not That I Don't Want You by @parmahamlarrie [E, 12k, Louis/Harry]

It begins with a benign comment during a night in watching a show with his lovely boyfriend, Louis, and leads Harry to a months long journey to understand himself better. Will Harry figure out what makes him feel so different from everyone else? And will he find the courage to tell his boyfriend?

Or a character study into Ace Harry with the most supportive boyfriend, Louis.

＊ I'd Rather You (Hold Me)by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 14k, Zayn/Louis]

He frowns when he hears the dial tone. By now, he knows just how many times the sound will come through, tinny on the speakers, before it clicks over to voicemail, and yet he still feels his heart trip over itself whenever the voice first comes through.

“Hi, you’ve reached Zayn-”

He sighs, rubbing at his forehead, where his headache always tends to bloom when he’s stressed. “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, disconnecting the call and resisting the childish urge to redial immediately, knowing that if Zayn’s not picking up now, he won’t no matter how much Louis bugs him.

It’s just - this isn’t like them. It isn’t like Zayn to dodge his calls for days, not unless he’s seriously incapacitated or dead, but if that were the case, Louis would’ve heard. Because Louis is his emergency contact, for one, and both their families know how much they mean to one another. Someone would’ve called, if something had happened, unless Zayn was dead in his own house, and, oh God, what if Zayn’s dead in his own house and Louis has been mentally calling him a dickhead while he’s rotting on the bathroom floor?

Spoiler: Zayn isn't dead. There is however, suddenly a baby.

＊ coming home by @nouies [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

It’s coming home, one way or another.

＊ Never Wanted Love, Just A Fancy Car by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [M, 7k, Harry/fLouis]

“Anyways,” the man says, “someone as handsome as you shouldn’t be sitting all alone with an empty glass. Can I get you a drink?”Louis raises an eyebrow, snorting. “It’s an open bar,” he says. “The company is buying the drinks.”“Well.” The man laughs nervously. “I suppose so. But it is my company, so. I guess I already bought you a drink?”Louis feels his head jerk up in surprise, his mouth falling open as he looks into the face of COO Harry Styles, son of founder and CEO Desmond Styles.

When graphic designer Louis gets asked out by C-suite executive Harry, he thinks Harry is trying to take advantage of him. But he's willing to take advantage of him right back, if that's what it takes to get ahead in life and get his sister's new business off the ground.

＊ your brightest star by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 35k, Louis/Harry]

“My baby,” Louis whispered into Harry’s neck, closing his eyes tightly into the embrace. Harry squeezed him closer and Louis could feel him nodding into his throat before he kissed him gently behind the ear.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled into his shoulder.

He tried to move closer, but they were already pressed together from cheek to where their ankles were tangled precariously together. “Me too, me too.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered, just for Louis’ ears. They swayed slightly, like a delicate dance to the distilled noise around them.

“Oh, darling. Sunshine.”

Or a series of timestamps from the sunshine, baby! universe 𖤓 Part 2 of you're the sun to me

＊ we could be enough by @hellolovers13 [M, 5k, Harry/Louis]

“You know I am flirting with you, right?”

Louis freezes mid-bite. Just manages not to choke on his steak.

Harry laughs a bit too loudly, almost like he’s nervous. “Yeah, should’ve known you weren’t the observant kind. You think I get this dressed up for a random dinner with a mate on a Tuesday night?”

or Louis never imagined anyone could love him for who he truly is.

Then he meets Harry.

＊ Just The Way You Are by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 780 words, Louis/Harry]

"Do you miss it?" "Miss what, love?" He could hear the frown in Louis’ voice, and tried to subtly release soothing pheromones into the kitchen "You know...sex and all that." "Where's this coming from, Haz?"

Or, the one where Harry confesses his worries, and Louis reassures him. Part 1 of I Just Wanna Love You

＊ This Feels Like Home by @enchantedlandcoffee [G, 300 words, Harry/Louis]

After one too many nights alone in a hotel bed, Harry flies home on a whim to surprise his husband.

[kaiasky]

there is something about going for a walk or hike in a very hot (like 110) dry weather. like new mexico arizona or the high desert or w/e. of like you can feel yourself overheating. and then you feel your sweat glands switch on and it's like. oh yeah I'm like basically the greatest animal at sweating of all time. im a desert creature fuckers i have 2 liters of water in my backpack and when I drink it it comes out my skin. huge L for the sun you cant kill me.

[imaginary-regret-608]

[The Amazing Digital Circus/Hazbin Hotel] - AU/Reimagining Masterpost

Thank you to everybody who took part in the recent poll, and the definite majority being seen for 'Yes' in the responses, especially in regards the enthusiastic response from @willowthefoxxo 's Reblog!

To provide context for why I've recently been making Non-Undertale/Deltarune Projects, whilst writing the Second Issue of the SwilTaett NEWSLETTER, I began to question what it would be like if I attempted making Concept Art for similar Indie Communities. But this doesn't mean that the rate of SwilTaett content will be decreasing!

The two projects I'll be showing here will likely be worked on the most when experiencing moments of Burnout whilst working on SwilTaett, or in sudden moments of inspiration.

First, despite being the second of the two in regards to their initial creation date, isThe 5-Star Digital Hospital!

An AU for The Amazing Digital Circus where each of the Humans is based on a respective time period and an individual part of the human body, while still maintaining the style of the source material! Each Cast Member has been renamed and given new lore to fit the time period they're based on (even though none of them are actually from these eras of history), so here are examples for each:

Pomni is now Tricul (Pronounced ‘trick-yull’, based on the scientific name for the stomach because of Pomni consistenly throwing up in both Episode 1/The Pilot and in Candy Carrier Chaos)! 'Tricul' also translates to 'Kicker' in Romanian, which is reflected in Tricul experiencing such an unexpected arrival to this unusual world.

Tricul's Design Style has also been changed to resemble how Pomni looks in The Amazing Digital Circus, with the best examples of how she'll look in later Concept Art seen in the bottom left of the image. Tricul even has her own 'Well, it's possible' Replacement, further hinting towards her representing the stomach.

Kinger is now Fector, based on the Effector muscles and glands seen in the Nervous System. He's also based on the Middle Ages, is noticeably less quick to be startled, and will likely act as a wise mentor to Tricul speaking in a similar way to how Kinger does to Ragatha in Candy Carrier Chaos while riding atop The Fudge.

Zooble is now Promexis (Pronounced ‘prom-E-six’), with the design now being based on Ancient Greek medicine and prosthetic limbs. Whether Promexis has control over these false limbs is quite the mystery among the Humans (in which the answer is yes), and whether they still can if they becomes one of THE INCURABLES (Abstraction Replacement, she does and it's probably one of the hardest FIGHTs).

Gangle is now Nestling, based on the Great Plague, Leeches and the Eye. There isn't as much to say about nestling, other than her Plague Doctor-Inspired appearance, as most of her time is spent crying in the break room.

Although also not dedicated to a specific Human, these Doodles were used to finalize front-facing expressions while also creating a list of Potential Nicknames (although definitely not all of these would be used because of how spontaneously), while also providing the first looks at Ragatha as Rammczi and Jax as Geronimo! Both are based on the Great War as their , but. Rammczi is based on the Heart (based on multiple interpretations of Raggedy Ann and the candy heart she's described as having, such as in 'Raggedy Ann Stories' (the original book by Johnny Gruelle where the painter's Mamma ), 'Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy' (1941, ), 'Raggedy Ann & Andy: A Musical Adventure' (1977, when Ann/Andy sing as a duet in 'Candy Hearts and Paper Flowers' and when 'I'm sorry, and I'd like to help you, but I'm only a ragdoll with a little candy heart-') and the 'Rag Dolly'/'Raggedy Ann: The Musical Adventure' (1986, which is also the only version with the candy heart stitched onto the outside, after Marcella says 'Look! (What?) She has no heart! (Sure she does, inside, you can't see a real baby's-)' before the song 'Carry On' begins)) and nurses seen on the Western Front.

Geronimo is instead based on 'GERTIE, The Wonderfully Trained Dinosaurus' from 1914, which is often regarded as the first animated character with her own personality. Geronimo also exists with the currently-unnamed Bubble Replacement in a group known as the 'Pearly Knights', with Jax represen and currently-unnamed \bubble representing the Wisdom Teeth. The Pearly Knights have their own pre-written lore in the world of the Digital Hospital (which is best seen in the Candy Carrier Chaos Replacement) that Geronimo had nothing to do with, even if he definitely would've if given the chance.

Although not being as different to his toothy counterpart in comparison to the Humans and their Original Versions, it's time to re-introduce Caine as Braine!

bbh (as Braine would've ended up doing surgery on her involuntarily, as Tricul suddenly replaces the Dummy that Braine was planning to use).

Braine having a brother to act as the Replacement to @sm-baby's (sorry for the notification!) Able has been considered and probably does exist somewhere in-universe, but no digital reference exists of him yet. His name would likely be Braune, allowing for the Caine & Able biblical reference to be paralled with 'Brains and Brawn' in The 5-Star Digital Hospital.

The only idea I've had for his design so far is a 3-fingered hand with eyes that resemble fingers, with pupils as the fingernails, which also has a hole in its wrist for the mouth.

There are designs and lore made for the Candy Carrier Chaos Replacement (including Design Reveals for Gummigoo and The Fudge), but I'll be adding that in a Reblog in order to keep this as short as I can due to this post being much longer than average, despite only being the first half.

-----------------------------------------------

The next project is Ring Around the Halo, a reimagining of Hazbin Hotel with new designs and lore, for both Heaven and Hell!

Just like what's happening for The 5-Star Digital Hospital, the lore for Ring Around the Halo will be much more open because of them not being the primary focus of this Tumblr Account. This is why I'll first be introducing this project through God's Design Reveal, as well as the changed structure to Heaven and Hell's Hierarchies!

Because the commonly-accepted design of God in Hazbin Hotel content was first a Headcanon Design Drawn by Voidseeker, I decided to make My Take on what God could look like for Ring Around the Halo, focusing on the Holy Trinity, the Word of God, and the Good Word spread by the Apostles of Jesus after His ascension.

This image also presents how the palettes of Sinners are decided upon entering Hell, with the Sin that led them to be seen as deserving of Eternal Damnation being a dominant part of their design.

It also shows the Reimagined Version of Angel Dust, with an appearance resembling a male Orb Weaver Spider. I'm not sure about whether his time period will be the same in this reimagining, as this version of Angel Dust has multiple parallels to a real-world person born in 1978, with a similar occupation (even with the Character Theme being reused from the same source)! I'd also made a Poster Redraw based on Angel Dust's films seen in backgrounds of Season 1, but I currently won't show it here for similar reasons to the anonymity of Angel's accidental real-life parallel.

Niffty's Reimagined Version is the most recent example of what Ring Around the Halo is currently planned to be like!

Niffty, formerly known as 恵子/Keiko in the mortal realm, was a Japanese child who was taken out of her education during the events of the Pacific War, and placed into a textiles factory. As the war progressed, higher demands were needed and longer shifts were put in place, some children having to work year-long shifts. As this would be the time when Keiko's brain would first start maturing, spending her life in the factory was responsible for her warped view of adulthood, focusing on the tasks and responsibilities expected of a typical housewife (as that was already what she was also being taught at school beforehand) and leaving that as all she now knows.

Her design in Ring Around the Halo still has her as a cyclops because of her having a one-track mind by the time she arrives in Hell, and her childlike appearance is kept as a representation of her childhood being taken from her because of the conflict she was forced into sewing work for, which is also why she wears a near identical version of her uniform. Niffty's bug-based activities and appearance also have an expanded cause because of her being Japanese. This is because children in Japan collect bugs in order to feel closer to nature, as well as cockroaches being the most common type of insect in Japan, having Niffty's new appearance in Hell cause her to remember herself as unclean and having a wasted time alive as just another worker.

Finally, here are the Reimagined Versions of Alastor and Vox as presented in 'Stayed Gone'! Vox's Design is the oldest that Ring Around the Halo has, even being made before a name for the Reimagining was finalized, which means that his and Alastor's Designs could become subject to change, as the concept has changed very much since then.

However, Alastor's censored face (which has an appearance inspired by the Lost SOULs from Asriel's FIGHT in Undertale) being a physical representation of having 'a face made for radio' is an element of his design that will remain unchanged if he is ever redesigned.

-----------------------------------------------

If you have any further questions about Ring Around the Halo or The 5-Star Digital Hospital, feel free to ask and make your own suggestions for what you'd like to see from these projects!

[noosphe-re]

NanoCT slices of the tardigrade Hypsibius exemplaris. Anterior is left (in a-c), dorsal is up (in all images except for c). The slices have a voxel size of 270 nm (in a, c and e), and 200 nm (in b and d), respectively. a Sagittal view through the midline of the body showing the digestive tract. The transition between the midgut and hindgut is marked by the attachment sites of the Malpighian tubules. b Sagittal view through the head region showing the pharynx and the lumen of the buccal tube. c Horizontal view through the ventral body (at the level of the ganglia) showing the second and third leg pairs. The trunk ganglion in each segment lies anterior to the legs of the same segment. Notice the thick ventral longitudinal muscles. d Transverse view through the head region showing the pharynx, a large storage cell, and paired dorsoventral muscles. e Transverse view through the third trunk segment showing the large midgut and paired dorsoventral muscles. Notice how the storage cell labeled in e shows a relatively homogeneous gray value while that in d appears hollow. Abbreviations: br, brain; bt, buccal tube; cg, claw gland; cl, cloaca; es, esophagus; hg, hindgut; le1-le3, legs one to three; mg, midgut; mt, Malpighian tubules; mu, muscle; ph, pharynx; sc, storage cells; sg, salivary glands; tg1-tg2, trunk ganglia one and two. Scale bars: 20 μm (in a), 10 μm (in b and c), 5 μm (in d and e) (Gross, Vladimir & Müller, Mark & Hehn, Lorenz & Ferstl, Simone & Allner, Sebastian & Dierolf, Martin & Achterhold, Klaus & Mayer, Georg & Pfeiffer, Franz. (2019). X-ray imaging of a water bear offers a new look at tardigrade internal anatomy. 5. 10.1186/s40851-019-0130-6.)

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Stay with me

Pairing: Dave York x f!Reader 

Word Count: 9.7k

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+)

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Omegaverse), Alpha!Dave, Omega!Reader, mentions of prejudices against Omegas, canon-typical violence, suspense elements, watch me make shit up about a/b/o to suit my needs, heats, rutting, knotting, scent glands, biting, compulsion (the thing with the voice), LOTS of sex, soft!Dave gets his own warning, enemies to lovers, Penny gets VERY vague about whatever the hell the DIA does, the plot is not the point of this fic

Summary: You’re Dave York’s ‘favorite’ analyst at the DIA. You’re also an Omega. When you go into heat during an emergency situation, can the two of you keep your mutual attraction from coming to a head?

A/N: Yeah, I don’t know where this came from. I truly think @leslie-lyman and I share the same braincell; she wrote 12k of Alpha Max and then the week after I was hit with an Alpha Dave idea and here we are. Thank you Les for egging me on, tolerating the constant depraved screenshots. Thanks for @pedropascalx and @honestly-shite, my two ‘Hot for Dave’ besties who ALWAYS encourage Dave filth. Now I promise I’ll go work on my stupid book. 

Masterlist

“The intelligence shows–”

“I fucking know what the intelligence shows, I’m looking at it,” Dave barks.

It’s not that Dave York is the type of Alpha to be an asshole, to be brash, inconsiderate, even violent. It’s the job that makes him this way; the years of military training that have muted his empathetic response, for better or for worse, in favor of emotionless calculation. It helps, when making life or death decisions.

Not so much when it comes to social interaction.

The man snaps his mouth shut, and Dave grimaces inwardly. It was probably the wrong thing to say. The head of Intelligence was an Omega; even on suppressants, as nearly everyone is these days, Dave can still sniff it out. It’s considered crass for an Alpha to shout one down–it fucks with their instinct to shrink away from an Alpha’s command, and no Omega wants to appear lesser at work.

Contrary to popular belief, Dave does not take Alpha suppressants. One of the military’s more creative trainings for Alpha special forces was to throw them in a room and pipe in the scent of Omega in heat.

For weeks at a time.

That sort of forced desensitization has left Dave with an unusually strong ability to resist Omega pheromones and a tight leash on his Alpha tendencies. They only really come out in times of high stress, when his tone of voice  can come out harsher than intended, or he accidentally uses Compulsion when giving an order instead of just… giving the order. Still, he's hardly the most aggressive Alpha at the DIA, a breeding ground for ex-military types in the first place.

Dave tries again. “Who wrote this report?” 

“One of our new analysts, she–”

“I want to talk to her,” Dave says abruptly. “I have questions.”

The Omega nods slowly as he backs out of the office. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Dave sinks into his desk chair with a sigh. This report is the last thing he wanted to see cross his desk. No one wants to hear that the call is coming from inside the house, so to speak, and this analysis points to a mole within the DIA, feeding classified information to outside organizations and compromising all of their operations. 

A few minutes later, someone knocks on his door, and Dave looks up. “Come in,” he calls out.

The door opens, and Dave is hit with the strongest smell of Omega pheromones he’s smelled in the longest time. He raises his eyes in surprise as a woman enters his office with a stern expression. “You wanted to see me?”

Dave frowns at her for a moment, at a loss. He’s never seen an Omega off suppressants, especially in the office like this. It must be incredibly inconvenient, having everyone gawking, right? He doesn’t understand–is there a medical reason she can’t be on them? 

“Sir?” she arches one perfectly-penciled eyebrow at him.

Dave clears his throat. “You wrote this?” 

“Yes,” she answers. “Is there a problem with my analysis?”

“You misunderstand,” Dave says. “I agree with the report. I want to know how you know.”

— — — — — — 

That had been Dave’s first of what would become many interactions with the woman who is quickly becoming his ‘favorite’ analyst. She’s the only person who doesn’t mince words around him, who’s brutally honest, almost cutting in her assessments, and doesn’t seem to acknowledge or care that Dave is an Alpha. 

In turn, Dave makes an effort to treat her the same way as he would any other Alpha around the office. Not that she needs his help–she carries herself with a haughtiness that would put most Alphas to shame. He's seen her face down conference rooms full of them without batting an eye, or purposefully not stepping demurely to the side to let an Alpha pass in the hallway, as many Omegas do out of habit, resulting in a few awkward shoulder-checks that Dave has observed with an amused smile.

Most Alphas around the office don't know what to make of her, and treat her with confusion at best, and outright hostility at worst. Dave–as much as he’s tried to stop himself, or, more accurately, stop his Alpha–is starting to view her as his. The long hours she’s spent in his office going over her intelligence reports have left him feeling possessive, even territorial, over his analyst.

"She's one of those 'Out and Proud' Omegas that think they're so fucking special just because of their designation," Dave overhears in the breakroom one morning, and for the first time in a long time, he has to stop his Alpha from reacting–grabbing the man's shirt and shoving him against the wall with a growl. 

“If she’s so proud of being an Omega, why is she so fucking standoffish?” is another scathing comment Dave has heard around the office. “Her designation is Omega. If she’s as proud of it as she claims, strutting around here with all those pheromones on display, she should be more demure.”

Dave doesn’t give a shit whether she’s demure; in fact, he likes that she’s assertive. She’s a challenge, his Alpha purrs. Dave likes a challenge. 

“Can I ask a question?” Dave asks, unable to help himself one morning when she’s sitting across from him in the spare chair in his office, an open report draped over her crossed legs..

She looks up from the report questioningly.

“You don’t take suppressants,” Dave says.

“That’s not a question,” she points out, and Dave smiles.

“Why?” he asks.

“I personally believe that Omegas should be allowed to exist in public whether or not they are on suppressants,” she responds quickly, in what sounds like a very well-practiced speech. “I’m part of a group of Omegas that refuse to take them in order to show that we’re perfectly capable of existing alongside Alphas, and that we deserve to take up space.” As she speaks, her voice becomes louder, more impassioned. Her chin tips up as if she’s challenging Dave to disagree. He doesn’t.

“Of course,” Dave says. “But isn’t that… inconvenient?”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

“Is it inconvenient for me to exist in public?” she retorts with a scoff. “No, it’s not, thank you very much, and when it is, it’s because some asshole Alpha with outdated views on Omegas thinks they know something about it.”

“I don’t think that,” Dave counters. “I just mean, doesn’t it put you in danger?” 

“So I should suppress who I am instead of, y’know Alphas not being violent?” she snaps, rising to her feet.

Dave blinks up at her in silence, unsure of what to say. 

“Excuse me,” she says briskly, and walks out of the room.

That… hadn’t gone how Dave had intended.

— — — — — — 

You’re struggling to focus. The Threat Vulnerability Matrix you’re studying keeps blurring, and you blink rapidly to focus on the computer screen.

You keep thinking back to your meeting today, at the wounded expression in those pretty, dark eyes. Even after two months of working with the man, you don’t know what to make of Dave York.

Dave fucking York. An Alpha if there ever was one–abrupt, aggressive, and dominating. And yet, there’s something about him that you can’t put your finger on. He treats you the same as he treats everyone else in the office (which means he’s an asshole to you, but he’s an asshole to everyone, that’s the point). He doesn’t treat you like a subordinate, he doesn’t treat you like a piece of meat, and he doesn’t treat you like you’re made of glass–which is the worst of the three, honestly. 

There are times when the two of you are in his office and he’s grilling you incessantly about the smallest detail in your latest report, and Dave will suddenly look up and smile at you with warmth in his eyes. Why? If you examine the evidence too hard, it appears that Dave York… likes you. 

But then he has to go and do something shitty, like question your decision to be off suppressants. Dick. 

Because of your position in Intelligence, you know things about Dave York that you shouldn’t. The man isn’t just the quintessential Alpha–he’s a killer. You’ve read the classified reports, read the things he’s done in nauseating detail. He’s ruthless, violent, and unforgiving. Typical Alpha behavior. Regardless of how those pretty brown eyes and plush lips make you feel when you steal a glance at the man, you’d do well to stay far away. 

Besides, a man who is so very much an Alpha would want nothing to do with you. You know what they say about you in the office. Assertive. (That’s one of the nicer ones.) Stuck-up. Rude. A fucking bitch. You don’t fit their expectations for an Omega, and they hate it. You don’t fit in any box, really. That’s why it was so refreshing when you’d found your tribe at Omega Out Loud. You could be yourself without having to feel like you were doing something inherently wrong. You have plenty of Omega traits, sure, but you also have a lot of qualities that would be more common in a Beta, or even an Alpha. As a result, many Omegas don’t think you’re Omega enough, and Alphas generally don’t see you as an attractive mate. 

You’re a real hit on dating sites.

It’s fine–you’re too attached to your work to spend much time worrying about whether you’re mate-able. In fact, that’s where you are right now–in your cubicle at 8pm, working late. 

You’d be at home in your pajamas already, but your heat is due any day now, and you usually take a few days off leading up to it as well in order to avoid any uncomfortable situations at work. It’s a little bit more of an inconvenience, but it’s worth it to be able to feel like you’re being true to yourself. No one ever mentions the fucking side effects of suppressants: Mood swings. Weight gain. Heart problems. High blood pressure. Sexual dysfunction. Why is it always assumed that Omegas want to be on them?

An uncomfortable twinge in your abdomen reminds you of why. Oh right–your heats. As much as you hate to admit it, Dave really was right–being off suppressants can be dangerous. If you run into an Alpha right now, your twin pheromones might cause both of you to act in ways you normally wouldn’t. An Omega that’s almost in heat is a fucking beacon signal. Get it here! And during that time, you’re frustratingly susceptible to an Alpha’s influence. As the slick starts to gather between your thighs, your inhibitions lower, and you start to crave something to ease the ache–a toy, your fingers, an unsuspecting Alpha with deep brown eyes and pouty lips and wavy hair and–wait, where did that come from?

You shake your head rapidly and continue typing.

You don’t focus for very long before the building lights flicker ominously, and your computer abruptly switches off. A power surge, perhaps? Frowning, you stand up, casting your eyes around the empty floor. Weird. It’s dark outside now–you hadn’t realized how late it was getting. Well, your computer randomly turning off is as good a cue as any to hurry home to where your nest, copious amounts of snacks, and your favorite knotted toys are already waiting for you.

Grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, you head toward the nearest elevators. You almost push the ‘down’ button, but something makes you stop, your finger hovering in the air as you look up. The numbers. They’re moving. The elevators are in use, all four of them, traveling down to the first floor and then up again, heading this way. Signals in your brain start to go haywire. Something isn’t right about this. You head to the window and look down at the entrance to the building. 

It’s being swarmed by unidentified people wearing black.

You can see their assault rifles from here.

A sudden stab of pain in your core makes you double over, your fist hitting the glass of the window. Shit. Want to know one of the best ways to trigger an early heat?

Stress.

Suddenly, the symptoms hit you like a freight train. Body sweats, cramps, light-headedness, you name it. You struggle to stay upright as you watch the tide of assailants entering the building.

You have to hide.

Any Alpha will be able to scent you out behind closed doors, so you have to choose somewhere with limited points of entry. Somewhere where you can potentially create a seal where air cannot escape. What in this building could be used to create a seal? You cast your eyes around in desperation before they land on a nondescript door labeled Maintenance. You drag yourself gingerly over to the door, and open it, rifling through the shelves for something you can use. Paint thinner? Sandpaper? Bleach? Screwdriver? Caulk? 

Caulk! You grab the bottle and shut the door, applying an inelegant line of sealant to the seam. You go over it once, twice, three times, four, before the bottle is empty and you cast it aside. Honestly, if any air escapes at all, you’d be surprised. It’s not pretty, and it’s probably overkill, but you have a feeling it’s going to work. 

It’s not a moment too soon, because as another wave of equal parts nausea and arousal hits, you hear voices as the intruders step off of the elevators and into the Intelligence department. 

It’s only then that you realize you left your messenger bag–and your phone–sitting by the windows. 

— — — — —

The call comes when Dave is at the gym.

“Sir?” the voice says. “There’s been a breach.”

Thirty-six hours of preparation later, and Dave York is slipping, silent and undetected, into the DIA offices, followed by a handful of his most trusted men. He’s covered from head to toe in black clothing, his favorite gun held aloft in front of him as he moves up the stairs to Intelligence. They make quick work of dispatching the guards along the way. They always make the same mistake–appointing their weakest links as guards. Half of them barely even saw him coming. 

The main office floor is a bit more of a challenge. The open floor plan makes any offensive position vulnerable, and Dave and his team are exposed and outnumbered the moment they open the door. Still, there’s a reason this team is the best at what they do. Before long, all the intruders are down and the floor is silent once more. 

“Sweep the area,” Dave orders under his breath, not wanting to break the eerie silence. The hair on the back of his neck is standing up–something isn’t right. He can feel–wait. He sniffs the air.

“You smell that?” he asks the Alpha beside him.

“Smell what?”   

Dave shakes his head. “Never mind.”

Someone is here. And not just someone…

Dave has been completely fixated on that smell for months. He can smell it on his clothes when he leaves work, he can feel the ghost of it on his skin even after a shower, he can call it up at night when he lies awake in bed. It’s an obsession for him. He can’t stop thinking of her–’his’ analyst. 

He would know her scent anywhere.

She works here, of course, so it wouldn’t be unusual for her scent to linger on her office chair, but that’s not where Dave smells it. 

It’s coming from that door. 

Frowning, he moves over to it and shakes the handle.

Locked. 

Holding his gun loosely–just in case it’s a trick–Dave steps back and slams his foot into the door.

— — — — — 

Can someone die of arousal? 

It seems like a stupid thing to ask, but as the time in your self-imposed prison ticks on, the question keeps coming around to haunt you. Each cramp is becoming more and more painful, each wave of nausea stronger, the sensation of emptiness more and more unbearable, to the point that your entire body physically aches and your hands are shaking.

You’ve tried to seek relief with your own fingers, but without a knotted toy filling you up, all it does is provide a seconds-long moment of temporary relief before the ache returns, stronger than before. You’ve managed to make a little nest for yourself out of some (hopefully) clean towels and shop rags, and you’ve discarded your pants and underwear as you try fruitlessly to work yourself through it. 

You can’t die from an unassisted heat… can you? 

You lose track of time. You know it’s probably been hours, because you’re also becoming incredibly hungry, but how much? Eight hours? Twelve? Twenty-four? It’s hard to mark time with no stimulus, no outward change that you can mark.

You fight down a frightened sob. This isn’t fair–you’re trapped in a maintenance closet trying to silently work through a heat unaided by any toys while people with guns are trying to hack into your systems. You can hear them trying–and they’ve as of yet been unsuccessful. If only you weren’t an Omega, you could stop them, somehow. If you were a Beta, or even better, an Alpha, you wouldn’t be shaking and dizzy from arousal in a storage closet, you’d be able to escape, to alert someone, to try and do something to thwart them yourself. 

Instead, you’re stuck. 

You think of what some of your fellow activists at Omega Out Loud would say. Your Omega is part of you. Be proud to be an Omega. Wear your designation with pride. You fight down a little moan as the cramps start to hit. It's relatively easy to embrace it in a work setting, in front of a bunch of Alphas who think they know better simply because of what they are. It’s much more difficult when your heat is interfering with a life or death situation.

You drift in and out of awareness, alternating between not-really-sleeping, rubbing your clit frantically, and being curled in a ball shaking with silent tears. 

Maybe you should go on suppressants, after all. 

You’ve completely lost track of what the hell is happening outside of the four walls of your prison when the door handle suddenly rattles, and a curse is muttered. Oh fuck. Oh shit. You’re in no condition to defend yourself. Even if you grab a spare hammer and hurl it at the intruder, your shaking hands and dizzy head all but guarantee you’ll miss. You can barely even hold the thing, much less throw it with all of your strength with the intent to disable your foe. 

Bam! 

The loud, jarring sound of a boot connecting with wood makes you drop the hammer anyway, sending you scooting backwards. 

Bam!

That kick dislodges most of the caulk that you’d applied around the seam of the door.

CRACK!

The third and final kick sends the door flying inward, and you scramble back into the corner at the sight of the man entering the room gun-first, swallowing the nausea and shame at being so utterly helpless during your heats. This is what your Omega turns you into, you think with a frustrated sob. You’re barely able to move, much less defend yourself, and you hate it. You’d been hit with the man’s scent abruptly when the seal on the door broke. An Alpha. He’s an Alpha, he’s found you, and you are so fucked. You look up at him, some sort of plea for mercy on your lips, before you stop. 

“D-Dave?” you whimper, your voice hoarse.

Dave’s eyebrows pinch together, his mouth pursing into a surprised oh as he takes in the scene–a makeshift nest of towels, the scent of Omega heavy in the air, and you, half-clothed and cowering in the corner of the room, one hand over your abdomen as it cramps with pain, the other held aloft in a gesture of surrender. 

“Oh my God,” he murmurs. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Him. Why does it have to be him? Dave fucking York. You can smell him, and to your utter disgust, you want him, your Omega fighting for any kind of relief, from any source.

No. You bite back a grunt of pain. “Get away from me,” you cry out through clenched teeth, your voice wavering. 

“How long have you been trapped in here?” Dave asks, ignoring your desperate command.

“Get–please,” you try again. “I can’t–”

“Stop.” 

It’s a command, from an Alpha. So you do. Your mouth closes abruptly, but you don’t stop glaring at Dave defiantly.

“How long have you been here?” he tries again.

“F-few days?” you murmur. Another flare of pain courses through you, and you gasp, doubling over, clutching at your abdomen. “Fuck!”

“And how long have you been in heat?” Dave asks, his voice softening.

“I was–It was already coming on when–-when they got here,” you answer.

“And you stayed hidden?” His eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Door…” you say weakly. “I put… caulk.” You gesture weakly at the empty bottle on the floor by the entrance. Dave purses his lips, looking impressed.

Your heat had been almost unbearable before, and now that an Alpha is here in the room, it almost feels like you’ll die if you don’t get relief. A few tears course their way down your cheeks as another cramp hits. 

“Do you not have anything to–?”

“No!” you cry out. “Does it fucking look like I do?”

The pain hits a crescendo, and you curl into a ball. “Shit, shit shit–” 

“Omega.” The word is barely audible, Dave says it so gently, but your Omega sure as hell hears it. You stiffen, quieting.

“It’s only going to get worse.”

Your temper flares again. “Are you just going to–hnng–stand there and… p-point out the obvious?” you grit out through the pain.

Dave doesn’t respond. He watches you for a few moments longer, then, with what appears to be herculean effort, starts to back away. 

Your Omega breaks.

“Apha, please,” you whimper, before you can catch yourself. 

It’s the phrase he’s waiting for; Dave suddenly at your side, lifting you into his arms and placing you gently back into your makeshift nest. 

“Listen to me,” he says quietly, “I don’t know if you’ve gone through a heat without help, artificial or not, but I’ve seen it used as a torture technique before, and I’ve never seen anyone who hasn’t broken.”

“Oh god–” you start to cry.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Dave urges. “I’m going to help you.” He reaches out to touch your arm, and you flinch away with fear, eyes wide. He looks pained, but he stops, his hand hovering just above your skin. 

“You don’t need to be afraid.” It’s not an order. The man puts zero compulsion into his voice, and yet you find yourself relaxing under his gaze. 

“Can I touch your arm now?” 

You stare incredulously at Dave. His hand is hovering inches from your arm. As an Alpha, he must have ironclad restraint in order to stop himself from simply reaching out and taking an Omega in heat, but the only outward sign of discomfort you can see is a vein on the side of his neck. His eyes are black pools, boring into yours, but his lips are soft and relaxed. He remains patient, waiting for your consent. For your trust. Slowly, you start to nod. 

Dave’s hand on your forearm sends a wave of relief coursing through you, and you crumple, slumping against him, your hands grabbing uselessly in your desperation. 

“Shh, okay,” he murmurs into your ear. “I’m going to help you. Slow down.”

“Please, it hurts–” 

“I know,” he says, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Stay with me.”

“Dave…” 

“I’m here.” 

You feel his hand gently sliding up your inner thigh to your weeping cunt, and your hips buck of their own accord at the feel of Alpha’s touch. A finger slips inside, then two fingers, and it already feels far better than you were able to do yourself, making you sob in relief. 

“Good girl,” Dave soothes you as he starts fucking you slowly with his fingers. “Good Omega. I’m going to make you feel better, okay? I’ll make it stop hurting.”

You nod and bury your head in his chest, breathing in his scent. It’s been so long without relief that you come almost immediately, clenching around his fingers and causing another wave of slick to gather on his fingers.

“That’s it, fuck, you’re so wet, Omega. Can you do it again for me? You went far too long without any relief, honey. You’re going to need more than one for it to stop hurting.”

You nod in agreement. Dave’s fingers don’t let up, thrusting in and curling up against your sweet spot over and over again while you whimper and babble nonsense into his chest. 

“Good girl, I’ve got you,” Dave keeps talking you through the unbearable heat. “Just relax, I’m going to take care of you. It’ll stop,” he soothes. “It will. I’ll let you come as many times as it takes.”

You come twice, then three times, on Dave’s fingers, but it’s not enough. Now that you have this, you want more–your Omega needs more. 

“Alpha, please, I need–” 

“What do you need, sweet thing?” Dave asks. “You need my tongue?”

You shake your head rapidly. “I need–she needs–oh, fuck.” You duck your head in embarrassment.

“Tell me.” It’s a compulsion, but you’re not sure if Dave had intended for it to be. His Alpha instincts have to be screaming at him right now. You aren’t sure how he’s remaining so incredibly calm. He grimaces at his own tone, but doesn’t say anything further. 

“Your knot, Alpha.” Even if he hadn’t ordered you, you would have told him anyway. 

Dave hums low in his throat. “You need more?” he asks. “You need another finger?” You feel another one of his thick digits slide into your heat, and you moan wantonly, but it’s not enough. You need him. 

“No,” you whimper. “It’s not enough. I want you.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Dave murmurs, shaking his head against your temple. 

“Why?” you whine.

“You’re in heat,” he says simply. “You’re not in your right mind–neither of us are. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

You fall apart again around three of Dave’s fingers with a strangled gasp and a wild buck of your hips, but your Omega reminds you that you’re empty, empty, empty…

“Alpha, please,” you say again. “I want it, I do. And… she needs it,” you admit, unable to meet Dave’s eyes. “I–I feel like I’m not going to get through this without it. W-Without you.”

“You don’t understand,” Dave says, his voice low and dangerous. “This is already very difficult. I’m already holding myself back. If I give you my knot, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back any longer.”

“Good. I don’t care. I don’t want you to hold back,” you say immediately. “It’s been days, I let it get too bad, I’m too far gone.”

Dave growls low in his throat. “I’ve kept this at bay for years,” he grits out. “I don’t know what will happen if I let it go. I’ll lose control. I’ll hurt you.”

Yes, your Omega cries. Yes, yes, yes—

You realize you’re saying it out loud as well when Dave interrupts your last ‘yes’ with his lips crashing into yours with a pained cry. 

Everything happens quickly after that. The rest of your clothing is discarded, along with Dave’s, and the two of you are molded together in the nest of blankets and pillows. He hisses when you reach out to grasp his cock, and you suddenly realize why he’s concerned about hurting you. If this is the size of his cock, what will his knot feel like? Your eyes flick up to him in trepidation, but Dave shakes his head, his jaw tense.

“You asked for this, little Omega,” he says softly.

Dave enters you in one, swift thrust. 

You throw your head back as he breaches you–far bigger than his fingers, both longer and thicker. It’s already too much, but your Omega finally feels sated after days of the burning sensation of being so incredibly empty. 

Your hands scrabble for purchase on Dave’s shoulders, and he doesn’t slow down, punching into you again and again and again until you’re gasping for air. He looks down at you with a smirk, watching you struggle–trying to squirm away from him and push yourself further onto him at the same time. 

“Come.”

This time, the compulsion is purposeful. Dave throws all of his intent behind the command, and your Omega obeys, clenching around his cock as he fucks you through it. 

“Good,” his Alpha purrs. “Again.”

You gasp in surprise as another climax follows, your Omega unable to disobey, even though the overstimulation is almost painful. 

You can feel Dave’s cock starting to swell as his knot rises. Tears are already squeezing out of the corners of your eyes as the pressure increases, and Dave’s nose scrapes against the swollen gland on your neck. Bite it, your Omega urges. Bite it, bite it, bite it–

“One more time,” Dave urges, dropping the edge from his voice. “You can do it. One more time for me, honey.”

You immediately shake your head. “T-Too much,” you whimper. 

“I need you to come while you take my knot,” Dave insists. “It will make your heat go away faster.”

“I-I don’t know if I can,” you admit.

“Don’t make me do it,” Dave says, his lips quirking upward with amusement, but you already know he’s going to.

His lips still brushing against your gland, Dave gives you one more command.

“Omega… come.”

Your back arches with the force of it, clamping down on Dave’s knot as it grows. Dave’s teeth start to scrape against the skin of your neck, and you throw your head back in invitation without thinking. Bite it bite it bite it—

At the last second, Daves mouth moves and he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder instead as he comes with a deep groan. You sink with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Relief that Dave, a man you hardly know, didn’t accidentally mate you in the heat of the moment, but disappointment because your Omega very much wanted to be bitten.

You can’t focus on either emotion for long because Dave’s knot hurts in a way that you didn’t expect, even knowing the size of his cock. You whimper and squirm, starting to panic at your inability to move, but Dave is there, talking to you quietly and soothingly.

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice far softer than it had been before. “I know, it’s a lot. It’s a lot, but you can take it. Look at you,” he purrs. “You’re all stretched out on my knot. It’s hard, huh? I told you I would hurt you.”

Your Omega is blissfully silent for the first time in days, but you’re starting to wonder whether you’d make a mistake in asking for his knot. You bury your head in Dave’s shoulder as the tears come.

“Breathe,” Dave instructs. “Breathe, little Omega.”

You think you might sleep. You drift in and out of awareness, only able to focus on the overwhelming feeling of fullness. It feels as if Dave’s knot will never go down, that you’ll be swollen with it forever. Eventually, it starts to hurt less, but you can’t tell if the knot is actually receding, or if you’re getting used to the feeling of him stretching you past your limits. 

When the little crease of discomfort on your forehead goes away and you relax into him fully, Dave starts to talk.

“What on earth are you doing here?” he asks quietly.  

“I was staying late,” you answer. “My–I knew my heat was coming in a few days, and I was trying to get caught up on work before I took a few days off for it.” Then they came, and I–I couldn’t evacuate the building,” you answer. “I misjudged. I was already so close to being in heat; I obviously couldn’t be in public. I hid myself in here and sealed the doors.”

“Why here?” Dave asks, amused. “Why a storage closet?”

“That’s where the caulk was,” you murmur. “I was running out of time.” 

Dave hums and rubs his nose along your scent gland again, making you shiver pleasantly. “Plus, no windows,” he points out. “Less ways for the scent to get out.”

“Exactly,” you say. 

“Smart girl,” Dave praises. 

“I didn’t really have a plan beyond that,” you admit. “I didn’t have any of my toys, I was just trying to get through it with my fingers, and it wasn’t enough–I felt like I was going to die.”

“Shh,” Dave whispers. “You did so well, my brave girl.”

When his knot goes down enough for him to finally slip out of you, Dave announces that he needs to get you out of here.

“You haven’t had anything to eat in here,” he observes. “And I’m not going to let you go through the rest of your heat hungry, in a storage closet.”

“I can’t move, they’ll know, they’ll see–”

“Oh, honey,” Dave tuts. “They’re all dead.”

— — — — — — — — 

Dave half-carries her through the office–where his team is cleaning up the aftermath of their operation tonight.

She flinches slightly at the sight of the bodies scattered about the floor, but otherwise barely reacts. She’s still somewhat delirious, and Dave can understand why. If the reports are correct, the building has been occupied since Thursday. It’s now Saturday night. He’s never seen an Omega go three days into a heat completely unassisted. She must have been in terrible pain, and yet she stayed quiet enough to go undetected, suffering through her heat in silence. 

Fuck, he’s so attracted to her.

The Alphas on his team whip their heads around when they detect the scent of an Omega in heat, but with one look from Dave–his hand curled possessively around her and his eyes black coals–they avert their eyes and go back to their work. 

They make it to Dave’s car without incident. 

“Tell me where you live,” Dave orders quietly, pulling up the map on his phone.

She recites her address in a monotone, her eyes falling shut as she tips her head back on the headrest. She must be exhausted–but another wave will come sooner rather than later, Dave is sure of it. 

She dozes while he drives, and he hates to wake her when they arrive, but he shakes her shoulder gently.

“We’re here.”

She blinks slowly, looking at Dave with parted lips and hooded eyes. “Alpha…” she murmurs.

So it’s starting again.

“We need to get you some food,” Dave says, getting out of the car and coming around to her side to lift her up. This time, he pulls her properly into his arms, inhaling her scent as he brushes his nose against her temple. 

It’s hard not to lay her down right inside the door and give her his knot again with the little whimpers and moans she’s making, but Dave grits his teeth and walks into her kitchen instead, setting her down on the countertop. 

“It aches,” she whimpers, grabbing onto Dave’s wrist like a vice. 

“I know,” Dave answers softly. “But you’re eating first, it’s been three days.”

“But I need–” 

“No.” Dave puts all of his intent behind the word, and not just for her. It’s for him, a reminder to himself that he has a responsibility to take care of her and not just rut into her over and over until his Alpha is sated. Except she’s looking at him like he’d just slapped her across the face, and he realizes he’d probably been too harsh. “What can I get you to eat?” he asks, opening cabinets at random until he finds the glassware. 

“I’ve got heat snacks in there,” she says, waving her arm at a cabinet behind him. He retrieves a few granola bars and fills the glass with water, and returns to her.

“Eat all of these, drink two full glasses, and then–” Dave cuts himself off, clearing his throat. 

Even after he’s already filled her, it feels awkward to say it out loud. And then I’ll fuck you again. They both know what the end of the sentence was going to be, so he doesn’t bother continuing, and she occupies herself with the granola bars, taking big, enthusiastic bites interspersed with long swigs of water as if she hasn’t eaten in days. She hasn’t, Dave reminds himself. God, she’s strong. Whoever had said Omegas were the weaker sex were imbeciles–she went through a hostage situation with no food for three days, having to stay completely silent during an unassisted heat that must have been intolerable by the time he’d found her. 

The moment she’s done with the third granola bar, Dave gently grabs her face with both hands and presses his lips to hers. 

“Oh!” she makes a muffled sound of surprise. “Alpha–”

“Dave,” he corrects. “Don’t call me that–call me Dave.”

“Dave,” she says immediately, her wide eyes searching his face.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Fuck, like that.”

“Dave, please,” she whimpers. 

“Hang on–” Dave grabs three more granola bars and two bottles of gatorade from the fridge. “You’re eating again right after,” he announces. 

“Yes, Alpha,” she drawls lazily, a small, dazed smile on her face, already drunk on her own pheromones. It’s incredibly cute. 

She enters her bedroom with a relieved sigh, moving forward and collapsing onto her bed, where a much larger and more comfortable nest is waiting for her. For them. She scrubs her hands over her face and lets out a groan that has less to do with pleasure and more with the relief of being somewhere where she feels safe. Dave feels off-balance for a moment, unsure if he has a place here, but then she looks over at him with a question in those sultry, half-lidded eyes. Alpha?

Dave smiles and walks forward, climbing over her on the bed and pressing his body against hers. Omega. She lets out a little gasp at the contact and arches into him, seeking more friction. 

“Patience,” he scolds teasingly. 

“Been three days,” she growls, clenching her teeth. “You don’t get to tell me to be patient.”

“Touché.” Dave grinds down on her roughly, making her cry out. “Then you won’t be opposed if I give this to you exactly how I want?”

“Depends on how you want it,” she retorts, although she’s already pulling at her shirt. 

“I’ll show you how I want it,” Dave grunts, sitting up to yank her pants and underwear off in one swift motion. “Turn around,” he orders. “Get on your knees for me.”

She’s nodding rapidly, her breath coming in pants as she obeys. Dave gives in to the temptation to grab her cheeks and spread her apart, showing him every inch of her glistening pussy. 

“Fucking perfect,” he growls. “You’re so wet; you’ve been waiting so long for this, honey,” he says, his voice honey-thick. “Let me give you what you’ve been needing all this time.”

Despite his posturing, Dave still enters her slowly, giving her plenty of time to adjust to his size. He rubs her lower back soothingly until he’s buried to the hilt and she’s letting out those pretty little whimpers that tell him she wants him to move. 

Well, Dave thinks with a smirk. He can do that. He pulls almost all the way out, then pushes back in, giving her his cock in long, hard strokes that immediately send her to her elbows as her arms give out. She moans wordlessly into the blankets, taking every punishing thrust with an arched back, her hands clutching uselessly at the sheets. When she starts pushing back onto him, Dave grabs her cheeks again and spreads her open the same way, using his grip to pull her back onto his cock. The new angle makes her wail and he feels her core starting to tighten around him.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Come on, come for me again. Come for me and then I’ll give you my knot, little Omega.”

She keens.

“Oh, you like that?” Dave teases. “Desperate little Omega wants my knot?”

She nods frantically into the covers, and Dave’s smile falters. 

“It hurt you before, silly thing. It made you cry. You sure you want that again?”

She mumbles something unintelligible into the sheets.

“I didn’t hear that, honey, say it again.”

“L-Liked it,” she pants.

It’s Dave’s undoing. His knot starts to swell as fucks into her once, twice, three times, and stills as the pressure in his cock reaches a breaking point and he’s fully seated within her.

“Good girl,” Dave whispers as it stretches her. “Good girl, you’re taking it so well. My good girl–my Omega.”

She whimpers and squirms just like the last time, a few more tears of discomfort escaping her eyes. Dave keeps murmuring to her, watching her face intently, seeing her lower lip tremble even as she sinks with palpable relief. Her Omega needs it, even if it’s too much, and his Alpha is practically triumphant that she wants his knot even though it hurts her. 

Still catching his breath, Dave lowers down and pulls her slightly on her side so that they’re both resting flush against each other, his knot still pulsing deep inside her. He places his hand on her lower abdomen, and fuck, he can feel the swell of his knot against his palm. He drops his forehead to her shoulder and hisses a curse under his breath. Down, Alpha. Dave swallows and presses a kiss to her skin before reaching for the food.

“Have some more,” Dave says, handing her a granola bar. 

She bites her lip, fighting down a whimper of discomfort. “RIght now? While we’re–”

“Please?” Dave asks softly. “Do it for me.” 

She finishes off all of the snacks he’d brought, plus the two gatorades, while his knot still pulsed thick and hot, refusing to go down. Good. The longer he fills her, the longer she’ll go without needing him again, and she can get some much needed rest.

“You should sleep,” Dave says.

“Mm,” she grunts. Her eyes are already closed.

Dave closes his eyes too, pulling her closer still. Just before sleep pulls him under, she speaks again.

“D-Dave?”

“Hmm?”

“Is this—I–” she swallows thickly. “I’ve never had an Alpha help me through a heat, and–fuck,” she cuts herself off again. 

“Where’s the assertive woman who yelled at me because I was ‘reading the data wrong?’” Dave teases.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Stupid Omega shit has me all… discombobulated.”

Dave chuckles. “Thought you were proud of being an Omega,” he counters. “That you deserve to take up space. Isn’t this part of taking up space?”

She’s quiet for a moment. 

“Damn you,” she whispers. “You used my words against me.”

“Tell me what you were going to say,” Dave says, fighting tooth and nail against his Alpha to keep the compulsion out of his voice. 

“Is this–is this just because of wh-what we are?” she asks, her voice wavering. “Our biology? Or is there–”

No, Dave immediately thinks to himself. No, no, no. Never just that. He opens his mouth to speak and then, inexplicably, loses his nerve. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t say what was on his mind, no matter the circumstance, but he finds himself second-guessing the words before he says them. He never second-guesses.

“Do you want it to be just that?” he asks softly.

“I–” she takes a shaky breath. “I don’t want that,” she says. “I don’t want this to just be scratching some primal urge, I want–” 

Frustratingly, she doesn’t finish, but Dave has the answer he needs already.

Tightening his hold around her, he presses his lips against her scent gland when he speaks. 

“It was always just you.”

— — — — — — 

You aren’t sure what wakes you. It could be the overwhelming need to pee after two large glasses of water and two gatorades. It could be your Omega starting to claw her way to the surface again, letting her desires be known. You’re still in your heat, after all. Or even still, it could be the fact that it feels as if a goddamn furnace is at your back, beads of sweat starting to pool between your shoulder blades as your body tries, in vain, to lower the temperature. 

It could also be the snoring in your ear. 

You smile to yourself as you look around the room. It’s daylight now–you must have slept through the night, although you don’t know what time Dave had rescued you, or when you got home. 

His cock had slipped out of you sometime during the night, and your hips shift back against him reflexively. You need it again. You need Alpha.

At the feel of your ass pressing back against his cock, Dave stirs, grunting softly as he wakes. 

Dave. Had you imagined last night? Not the rutting–the ache between your thighs assures you that was real. But what came after… It was always just you. Is that truly what he had said? You can still hear it–the exact timbre of his voice, the way it vibrated low in his chest, the feel of his lips forming the words on your scent gland, but it still doesn’t feel real. It was always just you. 

The subject of your ruminations lets out another soft grunt, his hand coming to your hips, guiding you back against him, then again, and again, until you’re rocking rhythmically together.

“That’s it,” Dave urges, his voice thick and gravelly with sleep. “Does someone need me again, little Omega?”

“Yes,” you grumble, still half asleep even though your Omega is very much awake.

“Ask nicely.”

“Alpha, I need you,” you pout, pushing back against Dave.

“Try again.”

“Alph–” 

Dave growls low in his throat.

“Dave,” you breathe, and his grip immediately tightens on your hip. “Fuck, Dave please. I need you.”

“Me?” he asks, although the tip of him is already lining up with your cunt.

“You,” you answer, and Dave slides home.

This time, your coupling is unhurried–although Dave’s grip is still rough and bruising, his thrusts still deep and overwhelming, but his lips are soft and tender on your neck, his teeth scraping lightly against your scent glands until you’re a panting mess.

Dave sucks his own fingers into his mouth and reaches down to rub little circles on your clit. 

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, and although it’s meant to be condescending, you can still hear the hint of genuine feeling in his words. “Going to be sore after this is over.”

You nod in agreement but push back harder on his cock.

“Fuck, you perfect thing,” Dave groans, his teeth biting down slightly on your gland–not enough to leave a mark, to properly mate you, but enough to feel his intent. “Fuck, I want–oh, honey–” 

“Please,” you whine. “Yes–yesyesyes–do it, please.” 

Dave’s thrusts speed up as he makes a broken sound of pleasure into your neck. You cock it to the side, inviting him in. Bite it, your Omega urges for the second time during this heat. Bite it, bite it–

For the second time, Dave’s mouth finds the meat of your shoulder instead, sinking his teeth into your skin with a rough groan. His knot swells again and you hiss at the mixture of pleasure and pain. It’s more of a stretch than any toy you’ve ever tried, but it seems that you’re finally adjusting to it after the third time. Hell, you don’t even cry. 

Dave’s hand finds yours and slides it sensually down your body–over your breasts and down to the soft swell of your stomach.

“Feel me there?” he asks, pressing down slightly.

Your breath catches. You can–there’s an unnatural fullness to your belly, a hard bump deep inside where Dave is filling you with his seed, over and over and over. Suddenly, your Omega rears her head, overcome with the idea of being filled, of being his, being Dave’s, of being his Omega and not just someone that he’s helping through a heat.

“Dave, why–” you begin. “Why didn’t you–” your hand moves up to your scent gland, where Dave had chosen not to mark you in the heat of the moment.

“I want you to want it,” Dave replies softly.

“I do–”

“I want you,” he repeats, firmer, “to want it. You. Nothing else.”

An avalanche of recent memories crashes through your mind. Don’t call me that–call me Dave. It was always just you. I want you to want it. 

He’s been telling you all this time: it’s not just an Alpha and Omega thing. It’s him–it’s you. The both of you.

“Dave,” you whisper, a shaky smile appearing on your face. “It was always just you, too.” 

Dave buries his head between your shoulder blades, but doesn’t say anything further. Finally, he says, “What would you like for breakfast?”

You giggle at the sudden shift in tone. “What?”

“You can’t just have granola bars all weekend,” Dave argues. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Are you asking me how I like my eggs?” you say with a playful wink.

“Tell me, or I’m making you what I fucking feel like making you,” Dave grumbles, apparently annoyed with your silly joke. 

You are still very hungry. “I like pancakes,” you offer. “And sausage. And bacon. And eggs, any style really. I’ve got toast, and peanut butter, and–”

Dave’s hand comes down on one cheek with a satisfying slap, and you squeal in surprise.

“Shut up,” he grumbles–with absolutely no malice in his voice. “When my knot goes down, I’m making you whatever the fuck I want.”

‘Whatever he wants’ turns out to be a little bit of everything–pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, toast, some frozen fruit that he found in the back of your freezer–all prepared while you sit at the kitchen table, feeling a little silly, drinking the coffee that had also been made by Dave.

“Eat up,” he says, putting a heaping plate down in front of you.

You gape up at him. “You didn’t need to–”

“Eat.” Dave throws a hint of compulsion into his voice, but it has a playful tone to it–as if he’s doing it only to tease you. You used to hate being compelled, but you find that, with Dave, you actually like it. He always seems to use it in a way that’s caring–like when you’re being obstinate for no reason and he’s had enough, or when you’re feeling too overwhelmed to accept the help that he’s freely giving. 

You’re starving. You dig into the plate with gusto, devouring every bit until nothing remains. You smile up at him.

“That wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” Dave asks, a smile teasing at his lips.

“No, Alpha,” you pout playfully.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Good. I think–I think it’s lightening up,” you say. “It doesn’t feel quite as urgent this morning.”

“Good,” Dave says. “It’ll probably be over before the day is up.”

“It’s been a hell of a heat,” you say with a sardonic laugh. “Not sure I ever want to repeat those first few days ever again.”

“What about the last few?” Dave quirks one eyebrow at you.

You duck your head, smiling shyly. “Remains to be seen.”

Dave huffs a laugh through his nose. “You’re hard to please.”

“Am I?” 

“Mmhmm,” he grunts, stepping closer. “I need more practice.”

“Your knot just went down,” you protest, swatting his chest.

“I could go again,” Dave counters.

“Well I can’t,” you grumble. 

“No,” Dave agrees, giving you a far-too-tender kiss on the forehead. “You can’t.”

Instead, you spend the morning curled up on the couch, reading a book with your legs draped over Dave’s lap. His own choice is propped against your knees, his free hand resting on your thigh. He glances at you every so often, although you pretend not to notice. Your mind starts to wander as you read, and you start wondering about whether Dave has ever helped anyone through a heat before, whether he’s marked anyone before, whether he’ll want to see you when the fog clears and the two of you are back at work.

“I can practically hear you thinking,” Dave remarks wryly.

“I’m reading,” you say quickly.

“No, you’re not.”

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask.

“Nope, I’m a virgin,” Dave drawls. You roll your eyes.

“Helped an Omega through their heat,” you clarify. “You know what I meant.”

Dave nods. “A few times, mostly out of necessity.” He looks over at you. “You’ve really never gone through your heat with an Alpha?”

You shake your head. “Believe it or not, I’m not much of a catch,” you deadpan. “At least, not to an Alpha. I’ve been with Betas, mostly.”

“Not a catch?”

“I know you know what the Alphas say about me around the office,” you tell him. “It’s pretty much the same everywhere else, too.”

“They’re idiots,” Dave remarks.

You stare at him challengingly. “What do you think?”

Dave is silent for a few beats, the two of you watching each other, apparently waiting for the other to snap.

“I think it’s time for lunch.”

“Dave!”

“I think you’re incredible, is that what you want to hear?” Dave says, his voice rising in volume. “Do you want to know how many times I’ve gone home with your scent on my skin and fucked my hand, wishing it was you? Do you know how fucking hard it is not to mark you as mine?”

Your mouth falls open at the outburst. There are a hundred things you could say–I like you, let’s go on a date when this is over, will you stay until tomorrow, can we go back to bed–-but the thing that comes out of your mouth is, “Do it.”

Dave searches your face with a small frown. “You understand what that would mean?”

You nod. “I want it.”

With surprising speed, Dave grabs you and pulls you properly into his lap, so that your legs are on either side of his hips and he’s pulling you down on him, kissing you messily.

“Not gonna make it to the fucking bed,” Dave mumbles against your skin as he hastily pulls out his cock. “Any objections to that?”

You shake your head. “I want it here.”

“Good girl.” 

It’s frantic–the two of you grasping, panting, fighting to get closer. Your nails dig into Dave’s back and he groans low in his throat. He guides your hips, helping you fuck yourself on him, slamming you down on his cock over and over again.

“Tell me you meant it,” Dave growls.

“Meant…?” you repeat in a daze.

Dave licks your scent gland rather than giving a verbal response.

Suddenly, you’re very clear-headed. The brain fog associated with your Omega taking over during a heat immediately dissipates, and while your Omega is very much along for the ride, it’s all you when you open your mouth to speak. 

“Yes, Dave.”

Dave grips your neck roughly and jerks your head to the side, baring you to him. He inhales deeply, scenting you one last time before his teeth sink sharply into your gland.

The pleasure is explosive. Dave has spent the last two days showing you exactly how good your heat can be with an Alpha, but no orgasm so far has compared to how it feels with Dave’s teeth buried in your scent gland. You buck helplessly against him as he holds you still, the pleasure-pain of the bite and his growing knot making you dizzy and weak. It seems to have a similar reaction on Dave–he’s lost in it, groaning loudly, his face buried in your neck and his hands pulling you down on his knot, seating himself even deeper.

Dave’s teeth don’t release from your gland until his knot swells to its largest and he’s filling you with his seed yet again. His lips drag from the throbbing bite mark up to claim your lips, smearing the little tinge of blood on your neck up to your mouth. It’s feral, it’s depraved, and you love it. 

“Mine,” Dave growls against your lips. “Mine, mine, Omega.”

“Don’t call me that,” you tease with a watery smile, throwing Dave’s request back at him.. “Call me by my name.”

Dave does, murmuring it over and over as you come down from your high. You realize you’re trembling with the overwhelming release of pheromones, and Dave makes soft shushing noises, rubbing up and down your back to soothe you as you slump into his chest. 

“I can’t believe we did that,” you say with a giddy laugh after you’ve calmed down.

Dave hums softly in response. “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I met you.”

“No, you didn’t,” you argue back. “You just grilled me about my reports for thirty minutes.”

“Fair,” Dave agrees. “Maybe it was the second time I saw you.”

“I called you an idiot that time,” you remind him. “You read the fucking graph wrong–”

“I remember,” Dave grumbles. “You don’t need to remind me.”

“That’s when you wanted me as a mate,” you say skeptically.

Dave pulls back, arching one eyebrow in challenge. “Problem?”

Your face slowly spreads into a smile. “Not at all.”

— — — — — —

Six Months Later

“As you can see from the data, the threat of attack has decreased from 42 to 37 percent, which–”

“Actually,” someone across the crowded conference room interrupts, “I think that can be attributed to a number of factors, including–.”

“Are you… are you attempting to explain my own reporting to me?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at the Alpha. 

The man glances over at Dave nervously, and Dave can see the fear in his eyes. He’s just insulted his mate, and he expects Dave to come rushing to her defense. 

Instead, Dave crosses his arms, leans back in his chair with a neutral expression, and waits.

“What are you looking at him for?” his mate snaps. “Look at me. I’m giving the report.”

The other Alpha jumps, tearing his eyes from Dave, whose eyes are now glimmering with amusement. 

“Sorry, ma’am,” he mumbles, looking down at the conference table. 

“Let’s continue,” she says, stealing a fond look back at Dave before turning back to the presentation.

[science-lover33]

Delving Deeper into Neuron Anatomy and Brain Functionality (Part 2)

Welcome back, Tumblr enthusiasts! In Part 1, we took our first steps into the neuron and brain universe. Now, let's journey further into their astonishing anatomy and intricate physiology. 🌌💡

Now that we've dived even deeper into the neuron's inner workings and explored more brain regions, I hope you're as captivated as I am by the wonders of neuroscience. Continue to feed your curiosity and stay tuned for more brainy adventures! 🧠

Neuron Anatomy (Continued)

Myelin Sheath: Wrapped around many axons, this fatty insulating layer is like the neuron's protective armor. It speeds up the transmission of electrical signals by allowing them to "jump" from one gap in the myelin sheath, called the Nodes of Ranvier, to the next. Think of it as a high-speed neural highway.

Schwann Cells and Oligodendrocytes: These specialized cells produce the myelin sheath. In the peripheral nervous system (PNS), Schwann cells individually wrap around axons. In the central nervous system (CNS), oligodendrocytes extend processes to multiple axons, forming myelin sheaths around them.

Sensory and Motor Neurons: Neurons aren't one-size-fits-all; they come in different shapes and sizes. Sensory neurons (afferent) bring sensory information from your body and surroundings to your brain and spinal cord. Motor neurons (efferent) carry commands from the brain and spinal cord to muscles and glands, allowing you to move and react.

Neuron Physiology (Continued)

Neurotransmitters: These chemical messengers are the key to communication between neurons. When an action potential reaches the axon terminals, it triggers the release of neurotransmitters into the synapse. These molecules bind to receptors on the neighboring neuron, initiating or inhibiting a new electrical signal, depending on the neurotransmitter type.

Synaptic Plasticity: Neurons can change the strength of their connections through a phenomenon called synaptic plasticity. This allows us to adapt and learn. Two important types include long-term potentiation (LTP), which strengthens synapses, and long-term depression (LTD), which weakens them.

Brain Functionality (Continued)

Thalamus: Often called the "relay station," the thalamus acts as a switchboard, directing sensory information (except for smell) to the appropriate regions of the cerebral cortex for further processing.

Hypothalamus: This small but mighty structure regulates many essential functions, including hunger, thirst, body temperature, and the body's internal clock (circadian rhythms).

Frontal Cortex: Located in the frontal lobes of the cerebral cortex, this region is responsible for higher cognitive functions like decision-making, planning, reasoning, and personality.

Temporal Lobes: These are crucial for auditory processing and memory. The hippocampus, nestled deep within the temporal lobes, is essential for forming new memories.

References

Purves, D., et al. (2017). "Neuroscience." Sinauer Associates, Inc.

Kandel, E. R., Schwartz, J. H., & Jessell, T. M. (2012). "Principles of Neural Science." McGraw-Hill Education.

[madamlaydebug]

What does it mean to-->

A W A K E N?

One often observes these phrases burgeoning as spiritual lingo- "my awakening happened in xyx year" or ... "Ever since my Kundalini awakened on that exact day" or... some people mention in their bio- "woke up in xyz year".

What do they mean by that?

And how does one know if one has woken up or not?

Anybody who uses the above clearly doesn't know it and by the sheer display of that, they are doing a service to all by revealing that they lack the necessary depth to fathom this. And those who believe such, fall for it, are a vibrational match to that energy (so none is to blame) and hence they will come together as a unit to discuss these topics at the level of Consciousness that they can grasp and understand.

It only gets messy when one develops a spiritual righteousness about it and then looks down upon those who "have not woken up" in their eyes. Again, as all of existence is perfect as is, they will bite the bullet of their own creation and concoct a timeline that corrects the course for them sooner or later.

Now if one finds oneself attracted to that type of new age spiritual content then there is nothing wrong with it, atleast it gets them to talk about spirit instead of just being comfortable with the illusion of the dense material reality.

For the time being, what helps is this clarity- when one says they woke up in a certain year it actually means that the journey of self-study and self-inquiry was triggered for them by one or more marked events that point to a time period in their lives. It doesn't have to be painful, although it usually is.

As for how to know who has woken up? You CAN NEVER KNOW as an Enlightened being is under no obligation to act or behave a certain way that will fetch them respect over their "achievement" because they truly recognize that it isn't one. If anything, it is...

a STROKE OF MERCY

Physically, its liberation from the limbic system due to decalcified Pineal Gland in the brain. Dopamine/Serotonin/Oxytocin/Endorphin dependency gone forever --FREEDOM

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son

Joel Miller x f!OC

Chapter 2 - Assess and Assign

Summary: Tommy thinks you're ready for a trial patrol so you head back into the wild with both him and Joel.

Rating: E

Word Count: 4.3k

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, slow burn, miscommunication trope (it's Joel Miller...), Joel's traumatic childhood, getting together, eventual smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix-it fic

This chapter continues deer hunting, if that bothers you.

With your head once again in the clouds of questions floating through your head, you collided into Joel’s back, his arm shooting out and back to keep you nestled in place as he assessed something you’d missed entirely. Then, you heard it, the snapping of a twig in the woods beyond the house that stood dilapidated in front of you.

Chapter 1 || Series Masterlist

Not even the comfort of a real bed could keep the nightmares away. You awoke with a shriek that echoed off the walls of the room, your body drenched in cold sweat and shooting upright as you reached for a gun that was no longer resting beside your pillow, your breath shallow and labored. 

It was still dark, the white light of the moon washing in through the window just enough to have you able to read your surroundings, a heavy pounding at your door startling your already heightened state. 

“Arrow?” a familiar voice called, frantic and tired, “You alright?”

Again his name fell from your lips in a subconscious prayer, the familiarity of his deep timbre and Texas drawl dragging you from the tangled blankets to grasp at the doorknob without a second thought, turning it to reveal wide, hazel eyes. Sleep was obviously evading him as well.

“You okay?” Joel asked again, barely above a whisper, and all you could do was nod, “Yeah, alright. Just checkin’.”

Just as quickly as he’d run across the hall to your door, he was turning and heading back to his own room, preparing for another few sleepless hours before the sun rose. It wasn’t for lack of accommodations that rest evaded him, hell this was the nicest place he’d been in since 2013. But it was too quiet, Ellie wasn’t snorting in her sleep, your boots weren’t kicking against the wall as you ran from whatever monster chased you that night. The bed was too comfortable, he sunk so deep into the mattress he swore he was going to fall right through, and it was then he realized he hadn’t been alone in over a year. 

Your scream was something he was familiar with, you did it often, but that hadn’t stopped the alarm in his head from throttling his chest and leading him to your door, his fist hammering against the wood before he’d even known he’d left his own abode. Your sweat-soaked face had greeted him, relief washing through him that it was only your dreams giving you trouble and not someone, or something, else. He had to get used to this–the lack of threat–Lord knew his adrenal glands could use the damn break before cortisol put him in an early grave.

The window beckoned him over, he was used to staring out into the black abyss like this. Except it wasn’t black, not anymore. Jackson’s string lights lit up the square, the clothing and leather shops in plain view across the street, maybe he’d get himself a new holster made soon. His had seen better days. The BBQ Tommy had taken you all to was barely visible on the corner, the butcher shop nestled beside it, his need to learn the lay of the land immediately stopping what little desire he had to sleep in the first place. He’d gone days without it before, this would be no different.

At the first signs of life out on the streets in the gray morning light, Joel was heading out, trying to remember the paths Tommy had shown him the night before. The stables, the grocer, a movie theater, he needed to know it all. The greenhouses were the first to be manned, the early shift getting ready to tend to the crops sheltered beneath thick plastic.

“Surprised to see you up,” Tommy called as he emerged from one of the tents, “Don’t you got years of sleep to catch up on?”

“All in good time, little brother,” Joel greeted as Tommy’s hand clapped onto his shoulder.

“You didn’t sleep a wink, did you?” Joel shook his head once, his mouth downturned. “Thought as much. Well, since you’re here there’s somethin’ I wanna show you.”

The labyrinth of crops was larger than Joel had expected, the path seeming to continue on with each new turn. Why the plants were contained was obvious, they needed to grow year-round and the mountains of Wyoming didn’t exactly offer the climate for that, but as he followed behind Tommy he tried to picture what it would look like wandering through row upon row of flourishing greenery. He wondered what it would feel like to pluck a tomato straight off the vine and bite into it like they did as kids raiding the neighbors’ gardens or if they’d be wet with a summer dew at this hour, the water beading on the leaves before the sun dried it up before breakfast had hit the table.

“Through this gate,” Tommy led, a large wooden fence separating the gardens from a large two-story home, “We thought maybe this one could be yours. The garage is all set up as a little guest house, maybe for Ellie. It ain’t perfect, but it should do.”

“Appreciate it,” Joel murmured as he gazed up at one thing he thought he’d never have again.

“Go on, take a look around. Lemme know what ya think.”

After Joel’s curt nod of acknowledgment, Tommy left him in the yard, heading back to the greenhouses to continue his work. He was in the back, his feet taking him to what could be Ellie’s place first to take a survey of the simple space. A small kitchen, a full bathroom, and enough space for a bedroom and living room area; it was perfect for the kid. 

The backdoor was closest as he crossed the yard, a small rear deck with two white plastic lawn chairs and a table nestled on the wooden surface beside a back door. With a shaking hand, he turned the knob, entering a small mudroom, a Shaker-style kitchen to his right. He walked slowly, admiring the appliances, checking to see if they were all functional, knocking on the cabinets and counters to assess their soundness. All perfect. The dining room had a large fireplace, an ornate table, and a small bar. Tommy must have prepped everything last night, a fresh bottle of whiskey set on the cart below some shelving the dead giveaway.

After inspecting the living room, complete with another fireplace, and the downstairs bathroom, he made his way upstairs to the two bedrooms and accompanying bathrooms, his chest sinking as he stood in the landing. The last house he’d shared with someone had been with Sarah, the image of her poster-covered walls flaring in his mind as his right hand shot instinctively to his left wrist, rubbing the worn canvas of the watch he hadn’t dared take in off in 20 years. The sound of her stampeding down the stairs on Christmas morning echoed in his head, her excited squeals over the sight of a brand new bike beneath the tree following not long after.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling himself down the stairs and out the front door onto a covered porch, his hands falling to his hips as he forced a deep breath into his lungs.

“Everything look good?” Tommy called from the chair on the porch, Joel hadn’t even seen him sitting there, “S’all yours if you want it.”

“Yeah,” Joel sighed, shoving his emotions back where they belonged, “It’s good.”

“Before you ask, she’s goin’ right down the road. About four blocks that way.”

He wasn’t going to ask. Or maybe he was. 

Over the following two weeks, Joel and Ellie moved into the house on Rancher Street, Joel’s work on patrols earning them vouchers for belongings and his skill in woodworking and carpentry the perfect service trade fodder. Ellie got new clothes and Joel filled the fridge, dusting off his cooking skills slowly.

Much to your surprise, there was a home ready and waiting for you as well. Not quite as big as Joel’s, but still more than enough for one person, the two-story, two-bedroom house a few blocks from Joel and Ellie. When Maria had fetched you from the inn on your first morning in Jackson to show you around, she’d led you here and the disbelief you’d felt when she’d said this one was yours had left you dumbfounded. Of course, the house came with the promise to work your rotations including farming and according to Tommy, patrols once you were ready, and as soon as the keys to the place had been handed to you, you were whisked away to the local doctor.

A comment about the messy patch-up job of your leg was quickly rescinded when the doc had found out the circumstances, her shock at Joel’s handiwork under pressure and in quite possibly the least ideal situation had you smirking. You’d have to pass along her compliments, maybe his shame over the state he’d left you in as he put it would ease a bit. The scar didn’t bother you, if anything it got you some bragging points. 

They had an abundance of medicine in Jackson, the flourishing plants and livestock making bartering easier with traders seeking fresh foods no one else could offer. You were sent on your way with the current times’ equivalent of Motrin, something you never would have believed you’d be dreaming about the last time you had taken it, and instructions to take it easy for at least another week. A week had come and passed.

“They told me a week,” you began to persuade the blonde woman sitting to your left at the bar, “It’s been two. Just a trial run, I’ll go with whoever you want.”

“Do you feel any better?” Maria asked with a knowing smirk, your extended time spent with her since your arrival already blossoming into a friendship, “Have you slept yet?”

“I feel great. Never better. Sleeping like a baby.”

“You are a terrible liar. Awful. I’ll talk to Tommy.”

That was last night. You had not been sleeping, but when had you ever? Sleep deprivation had never stopped you before, it certainly wouldn’t now. It was an off-day from stable rotation and you’d already cleaned the house and muddled through cooking breakfast, your senses on high alert as you waited for a knock at your door beckoning you onto the back of a horse rather than beside one. 

When that knock sounded you leapt to your feet, wrenching the door open to see Ellie’s beaming face in front of you. 

“Hey,” she greeted, “Maria told me it was your day off. Thought I’d come hang out.”

“Settling in okay?” you asked as you let her into the living room, your eyes looking both ways along the street for anyone else possibly approaching the stoop.

“Yeah. I have my own place…technically. Joel’s has a garage he told me I could stay in. It’s pretty awesome. I got some books, some movies, I think I’ve watched 20 already. Maybe more.”

“Anything good?”

According to Ellie, they were all good. She babbled about every new story she’d experienced, every world she’d been immersed in, and you listened intently, enjoying the way her hands waved and flailed in excitement. As she was recreating an explosion from the classic film Independence Day another knock cut her scene short.

“Mornin’,” Tommy greeted with a grin as you opened the door, “Any chance you’d be up for a quick ride?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, your fingers itching to tug at your bowstring once again.

“Ellie! Ain’t you supposed to be at the stables?” 

There was a warm affection to Tommy’s tone, a sparkle in his eye as Ellie groaned theatrically, a smile stretching on your face as you witnessed her freedom to be a kid; a rebellious teenager testing limits that weren’t a matter of life and death. Listening to the two bicker showed what few similarities the younger Miller shared with his brother in mannerisms and speech, though Tommy seemed to contain far more patience. You bade Ellie goodbye with a wink as her scowl quickly passed from Tommy’s still-smiling face to yours, her expression softening slightly at the silent promise to reschedule the reunion that had already been delayed too long.

“Meet at the stables,” Tommy instructed, clearly planning to accompany Ellie to her post, “We’re leavin’ in thirty.”

Twenty minutes later you were jogging up to the stables, Tommy already out packing his horse and Joel just beside him.

Joel donned in clean, somewhat decent clothing was a sight you hadn’t been graced with yet, the thin blue cotton of his t-shirt hugging swells and dips his flannels had hidden well. If he knew you were there he gave no inclination, gently patting his steed on its neck after saddling him, a soft scritch behind the ear with a murmur you couldn’t quite make out following. 

Packing in silence still felt normal, however, Joel even passed you your bridle as if you’d been doing this task together all along, something that had certainly become the norm over the last few weeks of your final journey. 

“Feelin’ alright?” he finally asked as he offered a sandwich you refused, a declination he immediately vetoed with a furrow of his brow, hazel eyes transfixed on your face as you pulled it from his fingers.

“I’m alright,” you confirmed with a nod, the unclear nature of where exactly you stood with the man already beginning to gnaw away at you.

It was fascinating the way a presence that brought you so much ease also blew in a storm of turmoil. The fact you hadn’t spoken to him since that night in the hallway of the inn not affecting the calm, his familiarity still worming its way into your chest and stilling your rapidly beating heart. His innocent chatter with his brother was a side of him you’d never seen, the two talking about the trees and the paths, locations Tommy had found and wanted to secure, and the future plans for Jackson, and you listened attentively as Joel muttered his typical short responses. The knowledge that even those that knew him best received the same version of him as you did was reassuring to your still-wandering mind.

The trails of the mountains were as stunning as you remember them, trees lining the beaten path, sunlight filtering in through the leaves. They gave off the same facade of peace it had your first time roaming through them, the steady clop of the horse’s hooves like a metronome to the two southern drawls still conversing to your right. 

“All right, leave the horses here,” Tommy instructed as you entered the garage settled in an old, destructed neighborhood that almost felt like home, “Let’s take a look around. You two go that way, I’ll check over here”

The string of your bow was rigid and comforting as you slid it through your fingers, Joel’s broad shoulders his usual three steps ahead of you, a shotgun nestled in his hands, but he was relaxed. You tried to follow suit, but the fear of what may still be lurking behind every corner still whispered in your ear.

“How’s the house?” Joel asked, breaking the comfortable quiet that usually surrounded you.

“Oh, it’s good,” you answered, your tone flippant but cheerful, “Weird. Never had my own before.”

“Everything work okay?”

“I guess. Water runs, lights turn on…”

With your head once again in the clouds of questions floating through your head, you collided into Joel’s back, his arm shooting out and back to keep you nestled in place as he assessed something you’d missed entirely. Then, you heard it, the snapping of a twig in the woods beyond the house that stood dilapidated in front of you.

“Boost me up,” you whispered into the damp cotton of his shirt, “On the roof.”

“No,” he snapped, teeth grit together.

“They can’t climb the side of a fucking house, Joel.”

“I said no.”

Just as it didn’t on the road, his no meant nothing to you. You were faster than him, more lithe and nimble, your years of dancing en Pointe still coming in handy despite the decades away. You slipped out around his other side, his hand reaching out a second too late, the last thing you felt was his fingertips brushing against your upper arm as you took off in a sprint. His heavy stomps couldn’t keep up, your arms hoisting you onto the sunken roof of the garage from the hood of a pickup truck just as his grip wrapped around your ankle, his surrender coming with a growl as he had no choice but to yank you violently to the ground or let you up onto you lookout point.

“Why you gotta act like this?” he snapped just loud enough for you to hear, “Get down before you hurt yourself.”

“Sssh,” you hissed, quiet steps taking you over the peak of what remained of the roof to find the source of all the trouble.

From down below, he could barely see the bend of your elbow as you pulled back on your bowstring, the feathers of the arrow nestled between your fingers, and his stomach leapt into his chest. With a muttered ‘fuck’ beneath his breath, he followed your path up, albeit much less gracefully, the swoosh of your bolt flying through the air and the shriek that followed almost causing him to slip, your hand gripping his hand tightly as he searched for a ledge to grip to.

“Still graceful as ever I see,” you teased, voice straining as you pulled him up, his gaze burning through you with that fearful anger that always simmered beneath his surface.

“What the hell are you shootin’ up here?” he snapped as his boots hit the shingles, your finger pointing to the ground below.

Peering over, his shoulders relaxed, the tension melting from his spine as the sight of a deer lay dead on the ground, one single arrow pointing straight up from between its ribcage. Even from a distance, he could tell it was a good shot, a great shot even, the splattering of blood trailing to its body short enough to prove the shot was precise enough for a quick kill. If he wasn’t so damn angry he might have congratulated you.

“And you couldn’t have just said that?” he snapped, shaking his head as you beamed proudly at him, he wasn’t sure if it was the shot or the way you’d enraged him so simply that had you grinning.

“God damn!” Tommy exclaimed as he rounded the corner, clearly having heard some kind of commotion, “Now that’s a shot if I’ve ever seen one. Where the hell you’d find her, Joel?”

That was still the question, wasn’t it?

He jumped down first, his hands reaching out for you as you followed, his fingertips pressing into the warm skin of your waist as your shirt rode up in his grip and lingering half a second longer than he intended once your feet hit the ground. At least you didn’t seem to notice, and he thanked the deer carcass twenty feet away for keeping your attention long enough to allow the pink flush to recede from his cheeks.

“I can barter with that?” you asked, nose scrunching in that stupid way that made his jaw clench, “Right?”

“Reckon you can,” he answered as he stopped beside you, the doe bigger than he’d originally thought, “You know how to clean it?”

“Like, in a bath?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, his tone dripping in sarcasm, “In a bath.”

But with one look at you, he realized his tone was misplaced.

“Why?” you asked, his eyes going wide as Tommy chuckled beside you, his tongue paralyzed by pure shock and awe.

“Christ…” he scoffed, “How’d you make it as long as you did not knowing how to clean a quarry?”

“A what? Isn’t that a pit of rocks?”

“A pit of rocks she says,” he muttered, hands falling to his hips as he gazed up at the sky seeking aid from a higher power, “Get it tied up. I’ll do it.”

“I can just…give it to someone…” “You know, the butcher’ll do it for a cut–” you and Tommy argued with him simultaneously as he began to stalk off back to the horses in search of rope.

“I said I’ll do it!”

And with that, the word was final. Your prize was tied and draped over the back of your horse, Joel was silent as he worked with Tommy to get the job done quickly, the ride back just as peaceful after the rest of the route was patrolled and the sun had begun to tip below the caps of the mountains.

The gates of Jackson opened for you after patrol logs had been signed, the three of you riding right to Joel’s front yard to unload your first worthy bartering fodder. With his brother’s help, the doe was brought into the backyard and settled on a table Joel hadn’t found a use for yet, Tommy ensuring he’d get the horses back to the stable so Joel could get to work with a keen sparkle in his gaze as he passed it between his brother and you standing closer than you remembered being moments before.

“Should I…go?” you asked warily after the tap of hooves was out of earshot, Joel’s furrowed brow snapping your mouth closed immediately.

“Go? You’re helpin’, Artemis,” he crooned, stabbing a hunting knife into the old wood right beside the animal’s lolling tongue, “Time to finish your duties.”

Artemis. The Goddess of the Hunt. That was a new one.

“All right, Texas,” you resigned with a theatrical sigh, “Show me your ways.”

“Arrow!” 

Like a gift from the heavens, Ellie ran out of her lodging like a bat out of hell, skidding to stop in front of you, her hands already lifting to begin an animated tale.

“Woah,” she gasped, “Did you kill that?”

“I did,” you replied proudly, Joel’s grumpy ‘hmmph’ almost getting you until you caught the tick of his lips up into an almost discernible smirk.

“I’m watching Alien,” Ellie quickly diverted, “Have you seen Alien?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid.”

“It’s amazing. I’ve watched it four times. And I’m getting to the good part.”

“Go on then,” Joel dismissed, resigning to his fate of butchering your prize alone, bothered less than you assumed he’d be knowing it would go three times as fast. Maybe he’d try and beat his best time of completing the task in 2 hours and 46 minutes. 

As the sun set and he hacked and separated out what he’d learned would be valuable trade amounts, he couldn’t help but glance up and peer through Ellie’s open door allowing the summer breeze into the space to try and relieve the heat. She was acting out the scenes, having already memorized them since they’d watched the movie in his living room two nights ago, your eyes fixed on the kid and her dismal attempt at a performance with a genuine smile on your face. But it was when you got up and began playing pretend right along with her that he had to stop and pause, soak in the scene without a distraction.

Damn, you were so pretty. He’d curse himself for finally letting himself think that after almost three months of keeping it trapped behind lock and key, but for now he couldn’t help it. You were pretty before, with dirt smeared on your face, your chest heaving after taking down runners with a proficiency even he had to marvel at. But now, with your fiery hair cascading down your shoulders freed from your typical braids, the freckles that decorated your skin free to map, and your laugh stretching a smile up into the fine lines around the corner of your eyes, you were something else entirely. 

“Cut the shit,” he grumbled to himself, the cleaver he’d found in a kitchen drawer thwacking harder than it needed to through what would have made a nice steak. 

He fought the urge to peek up again, but that didn’t stop the sounds of whatever you and Ellie were up to in there now. The kid had so much fun with you, more than she could ever have with him. Somehow this God forsaken world hadn’t stamped out your light, and that alone was a miracle. One he knew he had to resist the pull of no matter how close it might bring him to whatever version of heaven might exist.

“Pardon me ladies,” he greeted softly with a knock, pulling your bright green gaze to his, “You’re all set.”

“Oh,” you replied and he tried not to read into the disappointment dawning on your face, “Thank you.”

“Ellie, inside for dinner.”

“Can she stay?” the kid asked, her eyes damn near pleading for an answer to the one question he didn’t really want to answer, “Please.”

“Oh, I can’t,” you cut in quickly, a breath of relief huffing free from his agape lips, “I have to meet Maria. I’m late by the looks of it actually.”

“Another time then,” Joel deflected quickly as Ellie groaned, stalking off to the house without so much as a goodbye. Teenagers… “I’ll keep everything here if that’s all right with you. Send ‘em my way and I’ll make sure you get a worthy deal.”

“Did you take your cut?” you asked and he could see the laugh bubbling against the thin line you’d pressed your lips into.

“That supposed to be a joke?” Fuck, his own cheek was twitching now with the urge to lift.

“Only if it’s funny.”

“It ain’t.”

But the single breathy chuckle he let free gave away his lie. 

“Gotcha,” you bragged victoriously in a hushed tone and he made the mistake of looking directly at you, the way you were staring up at him through your lashes enough to have him swallowing over a rock in his throat.

“Tell Maria you have my blessin’ if you promise to behave,” he parted with, backing up towards the door.

“Well, we both know I can’t promise that.”

“Reckless woman.”

If only he knew the half of it.

Chapter 3

[talonabraxas]

Chakras Root Chakra - Represents our foundation and feeling of being grounded. Location: Base of spine in tailbone area. Emotional issues: Survival issues such as financial independence, money, and food. Location: behind the sacrum bone (here is where the kundalini resides) Color: red Musical note: C Function: vitality to the physical body (life force) Gemstones and Crystals: Smoky quartz, garnet, alexandrite, ruby, agate, bloodstone, onyx, tiger’s eye, rose quartz, hematite (magnet) Physical body affects: adrenals, kidneys, spinal column, colon, legs, bones Aspects: survival instincts, good self-image, and our ability to ground ourselves in the physical world, material success, stability, individuality, courage and patience; main aspect is innocence, this innocence gives us dignity, balance, a tremendous sense of direction and purpose in life. Blockages: paranoia, insecurity, and a feeling of being out of touch with gravity Too Open: dishonest, bullying, hyperactive, defensiveness Essential oils: (those coming from the root or trunk): juniper, frankincense, sandalwood, cedar wood, vetiver, tea tree, rosewood Sacral Chakra - Our connection and ability to accept others and new experiences. Location: Lower abdomen, about 2 inches below the navel and 2 inches in. Emotional issues: Sense of abundance, well-being, pleasure, sexuality. Color: red-orange Musical note: D Function: birth, assimilation of food, sexuality Physical body affects: ovaries, testicles, prostate, genitals, spleen, womb, bladder. Attributes: relates to our sexual and reproductive capacity, vitality and sexuality, emotions, desires, pleasure, change, health, family, tolerance, surrender Gemstones and Crystals: Amber, citrine, topaz, aventurine, moonstone, jasper Blockages: emotional problems, sexual guilt, lust and base emotions, when this center is drained of energy (out of balance) it allows diseases like diabetes or blood cancer to occur. Too Open: Sexual addictive, manipulative and excessive behavior Essential Oils: (those that come from seeds): spices and herbs such as cumin, fennel, coriander, sage, clary sage, marjoram Solar Plexus Chakra - Our ability to be confident and in-control of our lives. Location: Upper abdomen in the stomach area. Emotional issues: Self-worth, self-confidence, self-esteem. Color: yellow Musical note: E Physical Body Affects: pancreas, adrenals, stomach, liver, gallbladder, nervous system, muscles Gemstones and Crystals: Yellow Citrine, apatite, calcite, kunzite, rose quartz, iron pyrites, topaz, malachite Attributes: give us our sense of personal power (will power); destiny, autonomy, determination, assertion, personal power, purpose and sight, self-control, humor, laughter; keeping this center in balance helps you to get rid of habits of laziness, gross attachments, and anything that enslaves us. Blockages: sense of victimization, inability to manifest, over emotional and attached love, afraid of being alone Too Open: judgmental, workaholic, lack of humor, anger, addictive behavior Essential Oils: (those coming from fruits): orange, lemon, lime, grapefruit, lavender, chamomile Heart Chakra - Our ability to love. Location: Center of chest just above heart. Emotional issues: Love, joy, inner peace. Color: Bright Green Musical note: F Physical body affects: heart, thymus gland, circulatory system, arms, hands, lungs Gemstones and Crystals: Emerald, Green Calcite, Amber, Azurite, Chrysoberyl, jade, rose and watermelon tourmalines Attributes: ability to express love for self and others, compassion and intuitiveness, unconditional love, balance, acceptance, contentment, oneness with life; when in balance all our worries, doubts, and fears are destroyed Blockages: immune system or heart problems, lack of compassion, suppression of love emotions towards others and even self, or if felt, only for a short time before it is withdrawn; fear and rage, feeling stuck and afraid to let new things manifest; feeling unworthy, self-pitying and fearing rejection Too Open: an over stimulated heart chakra can result in a ‘bleeding heart’ and possessiveness. Essential Oils: (those that come from leaves) peppermint, eucalyptus, rosemary, pettigrain, lavender Throat Chakra - Our ability to communicate. Location: Throat. Emotional issues: Communication, self-expression of feelings, the truth. Color: sky blue Musical note: D Physical Body Affects: thyroid, parathyroid, hypothalamus, throat, mouth Gemstones and Crystals: Lapis, Lazuli, aquamarine, sodalite, turquoise, sapphire Attributes: directly tied to creativity, communication, sound, logic and reason, truth, gentleness, kindness, reliability. When balance the heart is then aligned with what is in your head Blockages: laryngitis or sore throats, creative blocks or general problems communicating with others; rigidity, prejudice, and an inability to accept other people’s views Too Open: Over-talkative, arrogant, self-righteous Essential Oils: geranium, frankincense, cypress, tea tree, and lavender Third Eye Chakra - Our ability to focus on and see the big picture. Location: Forehead between the eyes. (Also called the Brow Chakra) Emotional issues: Intuition, imagination, wisdom, ability to think and make decisions. Color: Indigo (deep purple) Musical note: A Physical Body Affects: pituitary gland, pineal gland, left eye, nose, ears Gemstones: amethyst, purple Apatite, Azurite, Calcite, pearl, sapphire, blue and white flourite Attributes: seat of intuition, awareness, and inner wisdom, clairvoyance, imagination, ability to perceive truth in the world, analyze, think, and reason; peace of mind, forgiveness Blockages: can manifest as sinus and eye problems, wish to control others, egotistical Too open: Impatience and authoritarian Essential oils: lavender, vanilla, chamomile, neroli, ylang ylang (alcohol and tobacco will impair this chakra) Crown Chakra - The highest Chakra represents our ability to be fully connected spiritually. Location: The very top of the head. Emotional issues: Inner and outer beauty, our connection to spirituality, pure bliss. Color: White Musical note: B Physical Body Affects: vitalizes the upper brain (cerebrum) Gemstones: diamond, white tourmaline, white jade, snowy quartz, and Celestite Attributes: highest spiritual consciousness, personal expression, connection to the source of love, to God, divine wisdom and understanding, gives us direct and absolute perception of reality on our central nervous system. Blockages: can manifest as emotional problems, feelings of alienation and condemnation Too open: psychotic or manic depressive, frustrated. Essential Oils: rose, jasmine

[sabakos]

Vita Radium Suppositories (ca.1930)

From the ORAU Museum of Radiation and Radioactivity:

Produced by the Home Products Company of Denver, Colorado, these suppositories were guaranteed to contain real radium. Size: 2 3/4" x 1 3/4" x 1 1/2" Donated by Joel Lubenau (the box was empty). From the company's literature: Weak Discouraged Men! Now Bubble Over with Joyous Vitality Through the Use of Glands and Radium “If YOU are showing signs of “slowing up” in your actions and duties, perhaps long before you should—if you have begun to lose your charm, your personality, your normal manly vigor—certainly you want to stage a “comeback.” The man who has lost these precious attributes of youth knows how to appreciate their value. He realizes that happiness depends on his ability to perform the duties of a REAL MAN. Sweet, glorious pleasures of life. Nature intended that you should enjoy them.” “Now is the time to act! Today! RIGHT NOW! Tomorrow may never come.” And if you needed further convincing, the Home Products Company literature included a letter from an assistant cashier at the American National Bank describing the men behind the company (E. P. Gurley and R. T. Nash) as “valued clients” who were “honest, trustworthy and financially responsible.” It might be hard to believe, but despite such assurances, there were naysayers. Take, for example, the answer Dr. W. A. Evans gave to a question in his “Your Health” newspaper column (Canton Daily News. Dec. 29, 1925): QUESTION “A.H.B. writes: Will you kindly state what value you consider radium suppositories to reduce size and hardening of prostate gland? REPLY: None.”

[brutal-nemesis]

You already know you've got me invested. So a bunch of questions about your HRT magic system, whenever you've got the time:

- what does the ritual actually look like/involve?

- does the process look the same for both feminizing and masculinizing, or are they different?

- are there any effects that can't really be achieved using this form of HRT?

- how long does it take to build up effects? will you see some changes immediately, or is it slower?

More to come later, I'm sure 😁🧡

suit up bitches it's time for all the trans magic lore

What does the ritual actually look like/involve?

Essentially, person performing the procedure uses magic to force the patient's gonads (testes or ovaries) to produce more of the desired hormone, whether it's estrogen or testosterone. Unlike in our world, where people on E need to take T blockers to ensure that they see results (since T has stronger effects), this change in what the body itself is producing means that T levels would naturally decrease since the testes are producing more E. The actual procedure usually just involves the one performing it placing their hands on the patient's back near their spine and carrying out the spell. This typically takes five or so minutes, depending on how much the patient's natural levels need to be adjusted. The spell only lasts so long, so after a couple weeks it will need to be cast again. The spells themselves are called estrogen/testosterone production stimulation, EPS and TPS for short.

However, as magic advances, beyond the point it's at in Castys's early story and the entirety of Erebus & Terror, a new method is developed that alters the hypothalamus and pituitary glands instead, since they tell the rest of the body of what hormones to produce. This spell, called hypothalamus pituitary direction alteration (HPDA) only needs to be done once as the effects are permanent in the sense that they don't wear off, even after decades. However, it's much more complicated to carry out, so it takes longer to cast and is usually more expensive. The procedure itself usually involves the caster putting their hands on the patient's head and doing the spell for about 20 minutes.

It generally becomes standard practice for a patient to undergo at least a year of E/TPS in order to find the right balance of hormones for them before getting HPDA. The effects of HPDA can be altered later, but it's complicated enough that it's best to get it right the first time, hence using E/TPS as a trial run of sorts to figure out the best fit for each individual person.

Does the process look the same for both feminizing and masculinizing, or are they different?

Yes and no. The actual process is very similar, since it's just changing what hormones are produced, but adjusting the AMAB body to produce E and the AFAB body to produce T are different enough that most doctors specialize in one or the other. There's a lot more nuance to it than just turning up the hormone dial, so specialists in one or the other are skilled at helping bring about the wanted changes and preventing certain negative side effects.

Are there any effects that can't really be achieved using this form of HRT?

Since it's pretty similar to HRT here, it has the same limitations and effects, for the most part. Magic can certainly be used to help with things like top and bottom surgery (which sometimes don't need to be an actual surgery and are just a magical procedure), but neither form of HRT discussed above will completely change primary sex organs or massively alter skeletal structure.

How long does it take to build up effects? will you see some changes immediately, or is it slower?

It's a slow change, happening over the course of years, just like it is for people on HRT in our world. The body takes time to adjust and change on its own, and forcing it to do so quickly can have drastic consequences. At the start of E/TPS, all changes are closely monitored so that the levels of hormone production can be adjusted in order to suit the individual patient best and prevent side effects like emotional instability and blood clots.