#speaking of patreon though

[bleaksqueak]

hi, i found your blog through some old homestuck fanart and i immediately binge read all of solivaga, everything about it is so striking. your use of chromatic aberration is especially good for making the comic pop - i was wondering if you've made any tutorials or step-by-step processes of how you implement it?

Hi there!

Thank you so much! It means the world to me knowing anyone sits down to read my work! Soli means so much to me, so while I'm glad you stopped by after the HS fanart, I'm thrilled you checked out the comic! As for the effect... I don't currently have any step by step explanations, but if you don't mind hanging tight-- I've got a few pages that don't yet have their final effects on them and I can take shots of how I do it and post those up! Right now I'm getting this month's patreon pack together, so it'll be a little bit before I open up pages. Just keep an eye out here, though, and I'll show the finalizing effects I use on my pages.

[yooniesim]

I hate it here

[swordtit]

wish i could take like. a month off work

[bigsleeps]

fear....

[little-pisces-dreaming]

Just popping in to say blog not abandoned. Just life being life. I'll be back.

[colleendoran]

Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

 Go me!  

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because  right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt. 

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back. 

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news. 

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work. 

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing. 

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful  eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work. 

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way. 

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry. 

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was  hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings,  enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year. 

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks. 

[sinofwriting]

Every Kiss Begins With Tabs - Max Verstappen

Words: 1,544 Summary: Max and her have a tradition that was born from their first kiss. Note(s): The idea for this fic popped into my head one night, didn’t know what driver to do with it, and then quickly realized Max is the only option with him driving for a literal energy drink company. Also, this features Max and Charles being best friends, because your honor, I love them. (and features a bit of Ferrari bashing, because of course)

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon

At the end of their first date, Max had watched as she shyly reached into her purse, fishing for something, before pressing a small thing into his hand and instinctively he held it. He didn’t even get a second to figure out what it was, since she kissed him as soon as it was pressed into his hand. It was small, barely a second, just a peck. But it had made him flush, staring at her with wide eyes before he murmured a quiet again.

Her bottom lip had found its way between her teeth for a second, before she nodded at his hand, the one she had pressed something into. For the kiss. He remembers her mumble, making her all the more cute to him, how she was shy yet bold in the same breath.

It had been near painful to look away from her, but he forced his eyes down as he uncurled his hand and saw a generic soda tab sitting in his palm. Her words rang in his ears and memories of watching girls in school give them to boys run through his head and he’s pressing their hands together, keeping it between their palms as he kisses her.

—

Max’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he messes with the tab on his can of Red Bull. The sound of the press and his fellow drivers' voices washing over him. When it easily tears off, he pockets it, just as he’s asked a question.

“Over these last few months, you’ve been a lot happier. Many people thought it was you winning races making you so happy, but with Singapore happening, that has been disproven. Is there something other than winning that makes you so happy?” Max’s eyes darted over to his press officer, personal questions were on the no list for after races. She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow and he has to resist letting his brows press together. She clearly didn’t think this was personal and in nature he supposes it wasn’t, but it was leading. Raising the microphone to his lips, he speaks. “Well, I think I’d have a very boring, shit life if the only thing that made me happy was winning.” The reporter coughs, “Of course. But nothing new in your life?” “Not that I can think of.” There’s a frown on the reporter's face, but they don’t ask anything else, and the session is called to a close.

“I fucking hate reporters.” Max murmurs as he walks out the room. Charles snorts, hearing him and gently bumping their shoulders together. “I couldn’t tell.” “Haha. Was a good race for you today, though.” “I feel like I need a fucking bodyguard. I’ve been getting threats like crazy.” Max winces, having seen some for himself and also knowing from experience how bad they could get. “Ferrari hasn’t hired any for you?” He scoffs, “No, too much faith, I suppose.” “Stick close, come to Red Bull’s hotel with me, I’ve got an extra room and security.” “Ooh.” Charles teases, poking at his side as they exit the building. “Look at the golden boy with his security.” Max rolls his eyes, but feigns away as he reaches out again. “Are you coming or not?” He scoffs again. “Of course. I’m too pretty to be killed.” It’s Max’s turn to scoff, “You're something, alright.” he mutters.

Entering Red Bull’s garage with Charles would feel weird if it weren't for the fact that for nearly all of this season Bradley, Christian, Tom, GP, or himself had all been sneaking the Ferrari driver in. Max knows that Christian is hoping with them allowing Charles access to their garage and helping hide him away from Ferrari that he’ll join their team, and Max isn’t too proud to say that he’s started to wish that too.

“I’ve gotta get something from Christian first.” Max murmurs when Charles makes a confused hum when they don’t immediately go to his driver’s room. “Also, might want to text something to collect your stuff.” “Andrea will get it. I just need the hotel and room number so he can send some stuff over.” “Don’t want to sleep in Red Bull branded clothes?” Charles sniffs, sticking his chin in the air, perfectly making a haughty face. “Of course not. I have fashion sense.”

—

“You want room service or something delivered from somewhere?” Charles stares at him, “Mate.” Max grins at him before returning his gaze to his phone. “Had to ask. We do have Brazil next weekend after all.” “I want all the tacos in the world right now.” “Margaritas as well?” It’s silent for a second, “why not. Just one though.” Max rolls his eyes, typing out the number ten before hitting send.

“Food has been ordered.” “Thank god. I’m starving.” “Not going to offer to pay?” Max jokes, even though he’d refuse. “God no.” He scoffs before grinning at him. “Thank you, Max, honestly.” “It’s no problem.”

“When will the food get here?” Charles asks nearly thirty minutes later as Max unlocks the door. “Already here.” He tells him, opening the door up and stepping through.

Tossing his backpack to the armchair, he doesn’t see the confused look on Charles’ face or how it grows more confused when Max fishes something out of his pocket and holds it out, a grin on his face as he stands just beside the suite's sofa.

Charles nearly stumbles when a girl appears out of nowhere, words gathering on his tongue, only for them to die before they can form when she takes whatever it is out of Max’s hand and kisses him. He knows his mouth is open, jaw dropped, as he stares at the two.

“Hello.” Max murmurs, pulling away after pressing another kiss to her lips. Her head is tilted up a bit to look at him, nose scrunching a little as she smiles. “Hi. Well done on the race.” He grins and is unable to resist kissing her again before finally separating from her, only to wrap an arm around her and pull her into his side as he turns them both to face Charles. “Charles, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.” The other driver blinks at them for a few seconds before smiling. “Hello. It’s lovely to meet you.” He tells her, stepping forward to greet her with a hug, giving Max a thumbs up when she easily goes along with it. Max snorts at the thumbs up.

“Congrats on your race as well, Charles. Always nice to see you on the podium.” “Oh.” He can feel his cheeks turn a little pink at the compliment. “Well, it is always nice to be there, even if he is always taking the top spot.” She laughs and then she’s ushering them both to sit down at the small table nearly overflowing with food. “Oh my god.” Charles breaths, staring at it all. “It’s beautiful.” “I think you're just hungry, mate.” Max remarks and Charles notices how she passes whatever Max handed her before they kissed back to the driver before giving him a peck on the lips. “Of course, I’m hungry.” His eyes wander over all the food, all the tacos, and he knows that Andrea will be pissed at their next session when Charles tells him what he ate, but he knows he won’t regret it. Even when Andrea makes the session a triple.

“Can I ask a question?” Charles asks, after they are done eating. The twelve tacos he ate and two margaritas he had in combination with pleasant company made him feel content. “Is it a stupid one?” “Max.” She playfully scolds, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course.” “What is with the thing? The small thing you pass back and forth.” “Oh,” her eyes are a little wide and she seems to have stiffened and it has Charles' eyes widened. “You do not have to answer. I was just curious. You can of course tell me to shut up.” “No, it’s okay.” She shares a look with Max. “It’s just a habit, I don’t even really think about it anymore.”

Charles watches as she carefully extends her hand and opens it so he can stare at the thing the couple has been exchanging. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s a tab to a Red Bull can.

“Before I kissed Max for the first time, I gave him a tab from a soda can. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” His face softens at the explanation, and this whole weekend he has missed Alex, but now more than ever he wishes that she was able to come with him. “That is very sweet.” His lips then curl into a smirk and he looks at Max. “Must make sex uncomfortable though.” “You mother,” Max cuts himself off as he hits Charles with a pillow, his fellow driver howling with laughter. Hitting him with a pillow again, Max looks at her to see her laughing as well, face bright with joy and his hand is ducking into his pocket pulling out a spare tab he always keeps on him, pressing it into her hand before kissing her, ignoring the fake sounds of throwing up from Charles as he does.

@gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67

[nayatarot777]

first impressions that your future lover has of you 🥰💓

• pile one •

their first impression of you is that you’re someone who’s very honest. very truthful. i’m mainly interpreting this as you’re someone who searches for the truth of people and situations. so they might be able to tell that you’re trying to figure out the truth about someone or something. maybe even the truth about them. you’re extremely perceptive to this person. they also view you as someone who’s extremely introverted and quiet. someone who’s very self-protective, but your energy is loud as fuck. you keep yourself private. they feel like you ‘keep your cards close to your chest’ so to speak. but you’re not detached from what’s happening around you. you’re extremely conscious of your environment and the people within it. they feel like you can really see through people. you can really see through them. there’s something about you being vilified to this person by others. perhaps then hearing some negative things about you from others before even meeting you. or this could just be the way that other people treat you. others around you might treat you like you’re a villain in some way. perhaps not externally but that’s the vibe that they pick up on. that people see you as an opp in their mind 😂. probably from either fear or jealousy. they don’t see anything to vilify about you though. your energy is strong. it’s clear that you carry a lot of personal power and people are simply threatened by this. that’s what this hating ass energy is from other people - and your future lover knows this. this person can clearly see your inner child that other people don’t have the ability to see for themselves. they’re not someone who’s oblivious to energy. they can read it extremely well unlike these other people who are so surface level that they take you at face value and demonise you for it. they can tell that you’re sweet and kind. but it’s shrouded in privacy and introversion. they see an innocence in you. a good heart that you protect diligently. they view you as someone who’s misunderstood by ignorant people. they can tell that you’ve been through a lot, and they know that your immense power has come from this. they see this clearly just by looking at you - as does everyone else. the difference with them is that they’re not afraid of it.

significant numbers: 21, 38, 16

significant astrological energies: HEAVY scorpio/pluto/8th house placements, Leo/Sun/5th house placement

find the extended reading: ‘first impressions that you have of your future lover’ here on patreon OR purchase the reading individually here on kofi!

• pile two •

your future lover’s first impression of you is that you’re full of wisdom. you put things into conversation that are extremely eye-opening - even if that’s not the belief that you hold yourself for the things that you say. but this person can tell that you have a lot of knowledge. there’s something about this person perceiving you as someone who has lost a connection with someone. someone who’s grieving. whether this is a literal death or a figurative death, they can tell that you’re just trying to take time out for yourself due to the loss of a connection that you have to heal from. you might straight up tell them about this or they just know about it in some way. they view you as someone who is in the middle of a major transformation. someone who has went through a tower moment but you’re really learning to take care of yourself after this. i strongly feel like for most of you, this loss of a connection is a break up. so this seems to be some much needed emotional recovery to this person. they do view you as extremely sexually attractive, but they can tell that you’re in the process of clearing out your life after a major disaster. so i feel like they assume that you’re clearing out your sexual energy through celibacy or something like that. they can tell that you’re going through a huge clean up of your life. they might intuitively know that you’re having to rebuild from scratch - either in your physical life or within yourself. they perceive you as someone who is experiencing a brand new, fresh start for yourself. your energy feels clear or like you’re in the middle of a clearing.

significant numbers: 29, 3, 4,

significant astrological energies: pluto transit (perhaps through your 7th house), mars/aries/first house placements, pisces/12th house/neptune placements, virgo/6th house transits.

find the extended reading: ‘first impressions that you have of your future lover’ here on patreon OR purchase the reading individually here on kofi!

• pile three •

you might already know this person - not deeply but on an acquaintance level. if not, then this person feels like they’ve met you before - but they don’t know where they know you from. you already know that’s what happens with strong soulmates 😂. this person’s first impression of you is that you’re defensive for some reason. if this is energy directed towards them, then they just feel like you’re not someone who automatically puts your trust in them for whatever reason of your own. they can tell that this is your defence mechanism for self-protection. they might meet you for the first time when you’re in a deep sadness about something. and that sadness is perhaps converted into defensiveness. for others of you, you’re being defensive towards someone who’s clearly done something to upset you, and i’m hearing that this person feels like you’re someone who shouldn’t be messed with off of this situation alone 💀. i’m feeling a strong energy of this person’s first impressions of you coming from a situation between you and an ex, an ex-friend, or just someone who you’ve clearly ended something with. there’s a very strong energy that they get from you that you really just want to be left alone by this person and perhaps everyone around you. but i am seeing someone from your past being involved in this situation that your future lover is perceiving. whatever situation this is, your energy screams self-esteem and self-worth. knowing that you’re worth more than whatever this person can give to you and you don’t want to hear shit from this person lmao. there’s something about this other people/people being shocked so your person assumes that this is a new energy that you’ve stepped into. that you’re blooming into acknowledging your worth and you’re not settling for something anymore.

whew, this is dramatic, pile three. but this person has a lot of respect for you, whatever you’re saying, and whatever energy you’re giving to this person/people. they just know that these people fucked up with whatever tf they did. period 💅🏾😂

significant numbers: 22, 36, 26

significant astrological energies: pisces energy, scorpio and strong pluto energy, leo/sun energy, the spring time is also significant here so you could be born in the spring. i’m also hearing that this could suggest that a seed in this person’s mind has been planted in relation to you.

find the extended reading: ‘first impressions that you have of your future lover’ here on patreon OR purchase the reading individually here on kofi!

[harrysfolklore]

dog love - blurb

day 3!! if you’re still following along ilysm okay?💗

GIF BY @delicatepointofview <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

//

Yours and Harry's relationship was still a secret to the world.

Even though both of you were famous for your careers and fans and media were always following your every step, you have managed to keep what you had to yourselves for six months now.

Rumors were out there, for sure. And they started when you decided to be in the crowd with Harry's friends for his final show in Reggio Emilia, instead of hiding from prying eyes backstage.

However, no one had really caught up that you were in a relationship, people just assumed that you were friends and you wanted to see the show.

Right now, you and Harry were spending a few months together in his London home, you decided to do that since soon you both would have to go back to your busy careers and be away from each other. You basically moved in to his place, with your dog included.

"Milo! Come over here buddy!" You called out for him, sitting on the den and watching play around Harry's backyard, "You're such a good boy!" You cooed at him when he curled up to you.

"What are you pals doing?" Harry asked, walking through the sliding door that connected the kitchen and the backyard, sitting down next to you and pecking your shoulder quickly.

"We're just hanging out over here," you turned your face to look at him, matching his soft smile, "But I think Milo is eager to go outside, poor thing couldn't go on his walk yesterday because of the rain."

"I can take him for a walk," Harry said, and you noticed that he was indeed dressed up to go outside, "I'm actually meeting with Brad in a few minutes, I can take him with me."

"Would you?" you asked, and he pecked your cheek, standing up and offering his hand so you could join him.

"Of course, love. I can pick up some wine and food on the way back for dinner, you stay here and relax."

You pecked his lips softly before speaking, "You're a dream," he smiled and pecked your lips again, "And you, be a good boy for H, okay?" you knelled down to pet Milo, and with a final kiss to Harry's lips they were off.

You took in Harry's words and decided to relax since you had the house to yourself, you filled up the bathtub, lit up a scented candle and put on some music, leaving your phone behind as you took a bubble bath.

When you were done in the bathroom and clad in one of Harry's soft hoodies, you grabbed your phone and decided to lurk on social media as you waited for Harry and Milo to come home.

You opened Tiktok, your explore page showing you some Harry videos, cute dogs and even some edits of yourself. When you got bored of scrolling there, you decided to open Twitter, which wasn't your favorite platform at all but every now and then you got there to see what fans were on about.

However, you were surprised to find out that what fans have been discussing over the last few hours was Harry walking your dog.

At first, you found funny that his fans were trying to decode if he had adopted a dog, or where did the dog had come from, not knowing hat it was your dog and you were practically living with him.

However, your mood changed when you scrolled down and saw that they somehow connected the dots and found out that the dog with Harry and Brad was your Milo.

You shook your head, surprised by how quickly fans could put the  pieces together, and not sure about how to feel about yours and Harry's relationship being exposed by your dog.

As in on cur, you heard Harry and Milo walking up the stairs to the bedroom, and soon you saw both of them enter the room.

"We're back, love!" Harry cheerfully said, sitting on the end of the bed and Milo staying close to him, "Brought the wine and some food, are you hungry yet?"

"I think Milo just exposed our relationship." You simply said, laughing and how comical the situation sounded out loud.

"What do you mean?" a confused look appeared on Harry's face, and you showed him your phone so he could see.

After a few minutes of scrolling to your Twitter and seeing what fans were saying, Harry couldn't help but find the situation comical too.

"Well, that's better than TMZ, right?"

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe @drewrry

[erodasfishtacos]

The Stranger & The Thief (roommate!abo)

prompt: YN needs a roommate but has never been around alphas. Harry is the alpha her parents warned her about.

word count: 9.6k+

author’s note: hii guys. enjoy there is currently six more parts up of this series on my patreon which you can join for $3USD!

+++++++++++++++

YN didn’t mind alphas.

Not at all.

YN had grown up in a solely beta household which meant out of all of her family, she was the only omega.

It was difficult growing up, trying to figure out all the intricacies of her secondary gender when her family had no idea what any of it was or what it meant.

Heat was something that had been tortuous to figure out because she did that completely on her own.

All her parents could do was put food and water outside the locked bedroom door periodically as the heat, the pain, the agony persisted for at least five days before she started to feel relief.

A depression always followed for another week.

Then anxiety would start to consistently hurt her chest in the week leading up to her heat because her body is dreading the impending doom, of being dragged through the cycle with nothing that seemed to soothe the ache for her.

YN logically knew the solution would be an alpha, an alpha would be able to solve the problems that she was able to figure out on her own, in the privacy of her bedroom.

However, she grew up in a community that was mostly consisting of betas and omegas, there were a few alphas but none that would have been an option for YN.

Alphas intimidated her.

They were aggressive, demanding, dominant whereas she grew up around betas and omegas who were nurturing, empathic, patient.

It was two different worlds and though her parents did not speak down on alphas, that had made it clear that they felt like YN should settle for a nice beta.

YN never thought anything of it.

She did not crave an alpha.

Well…only during her heats but outside of that, there was no desire to mate with one.

All of her partners up until this point had been betas, that had been just fine for her, none of them were too serious.

The closest she got to a serious relationship was Tate, a gentle beta who was nice, thoughtful, and everything YN thought that she wanted in a partner.

It had been going strong for a few months when her heat had hit.

Tate had come over to offer assistance like they had previously discussed but it had not worked out well at all.

+

YN was embarrassed, she knew she had to face her boyfriend sooner or later, and she put it off for two more days after her heat.

They met at the coffee shop that was an even distance between their apartments.

Tate’s demeanor was off from the minute he sat down, he refused to look at YN directly in the eye, and he didn’t reach out to hold her hand across the table like he normally did anytime that they were out together.

He was the one who spoke first, “This isn’t going to work out.”

YN’s eyes widen in utter disbelief, things had been going so well up until her heat, “Tate, you cannot be serious. I…I’m sorry I acted that way but I did not know that was how I was going to react! We…I won’t ask you to help me out again but we don’t have to break up over it.”

Tate laughs without any humor, “I truly never thought you were a knot-snob.”

YN tenses at the derogatory term, it felt venomous coming out of his mouth, “Why would you say that? I’ve never even been interested in an alpha!”

He shakes his head, lips curling upwards in the slightest, “Really? Because I came over to help you, brought groceries, other things to help take care of you, and when I walked into the bedroom, you growled at me like you were feral.”

YN swallows harshly, she remembers, very vaguely and almost through a fog but she knows what he is saying is truthful.

“You demanded I leave because I was a ‘poor excuse of a man’ because I was a beta,” Tate’s anger cracks into something more devastated which made her feel awful because that was never her intention to hurt him, she would never purposely do that, “You said that I must be delusional to think I could satisfy you. Only an alpha could.”

YN knows there’s tears brimming at her eyes, she was aware of how nasty she had been to him, didn’t fully remember everything she had said but she did believe him about what he was repeating because it’s what went through her mind.

She remembers feeling disgust at seeing him, none of that love she normally has for him was present in her mind at the time, just pure anger that a beta thought that they could please her.

“We just don’t have to spend my heat together, Tate,” YN tries, she truly liked him, loved him as a friend, and saw potential in loving him as a partner.

Tate scoffs, self-deprecating as he finally meets her eye, “I will never be enough for you, YN. I know you weren’t in your right headspace when I came over but your nature made it very clear that you would never be satisfied in our relationship.”

He takes a deep breath, “You…You were a whole different person when I came to you. I thought omegas were supposed to be sweet, pliant, and gentle during their heats. You were agitated, aggressive, and hostile in a way that truly frightened me.”

“Tate, please,” YN reaches for his hand but he retracts it instinctually back onto his lap.

“I…I am not doing this because I want it to be like this. I saw a future with you, truly, I did. I…I really think that you should be with an alpha because it’d be unfair for you and the beta if you continue to date them,” Tate sighs as he gathers his coat, he does have that same gentleness when he gives her a soft smile, “I do wish you the best of luck, YN.”

++

YN had curled in on herself after that, tucked away into a shell, and has been in there ever since.

It’s been about six month since she’d broken up with Tate and she had made the mistake of asking another beta for help during her heat, it was friend who knew what they were in for but she just had to really make sure that it was unsafe for her to be with a beta before she ruled them out of her dating life.

++

YN was only on the precipice of her heat, hoping that if the beta came while she was still more cognizant that it would go more smoothly.

That turned out to be an absolute mistake.

Trevor was coming with the idea that he may need to leave within a few minutes of being there or he could be staying for the length of her heat depending on how it would go.

She had given him the key to get into her apartment so that he didn’t have to wait around for her to answer the door.

YN unfortunately remembers the events that transpire but even though she was aware during their interaction, she felt out of control of her body as she typically did in heat where she couldn’t stop herself from reacting as her wolf mind wanted her to.

“YN? Are you alright? I’m here,” Trevor calls out, smiling when YN appears in the small hallway of the apartment, “Oh hey, sorry I was late but there was a line at the store -”

YN’s eyes are wild, unfocused, and her hair is already messy from rolling around in her nest that she had spent time meticulously building as she started to fall into her heat, “Get the fuck out.”

“YN, listen we talked about -” Trevor begins easily, undeterred at first by her words.

“What? Do you think that you’re going to help me through this heat?” YN laughs meanly, shaking her head with a sharp, cruel smile, “I can smell you. What a weak fucking scent. A beta comes into my home like they can satisfy my heat. You are a joke to think you could give me what an alpha could.”

Trevor swallowed harshly, trying not to let the words hurt his feelings, his masculinity, the security he typically felt in his secondary gender but YN’s words were meant to gnaw at his insides, make him question himself.

“YN,” Trevor replies firmer, standing a bit straighter despite his hands trembling.

“Beta,” She replies but it rolls off her tongue like an insult, “You are nothing to me. You think I would want pups from a weak fucking beta? I’d rather never have a knot in my life than the little you have to offer me. You will never be my alpha.”

Trevor has to bite back the insulting name he would want to call her, knowing that that wouldn’t be helpful but also that him being here was not going to be helpful nor did he want to stay because he was worried she was about to rip his throat out.

He shakes his head, a sour taste in his mouth at the rejection of the omega, he had already been insecure in comparison to the alphas around him.

However, he had a crush on YN, he was stupid for thinking that she would magically be okay with him supporting her through her heat, and now he was realizing that was an absolute mistake because he felt worse than he ever as has before.

In the moment, that was her goal to make him feel that he was less than and she had succeeded.

“I’m just going to leave,” Trevor tells her as he turns towards the door, his bottom lip was quivering as he hangs his head, trying desperately to rationalize this, this wasn’t the kind, sweet, YN that he normally knew, this was feral at best.

“Good,” YN coos as she stands defensively in the door, her eyes were darker than Trevor had ever seen them and the smile on her face wasn’t one that relayed friendliness, it was like she was about to downright murder him.

Trevor has never moved so fast in his life.

++

YN was lucid enough during that to understand why Trevor avoided her like the plague after that, never returning her texts, and the one time she ran into him at the gas station, well he acted like he’d never seen her a day in his life.

She held no blame or ill-will, the things she said were nasty, cruel, and unlike her normal character but it wasn’t an excuse.

YN sent him a few long messages detailing how sorry she was, how she regretted putting him in that situation because she valued him as a friend but they all got left on read.

After that, she stopped trying to find anyone to help her with her heat.

She deleted her dating apps and pushed off the idea of finding someone else.

YN also went to the doctor for her erratic behavior during these times.

“Heat-Induced Aggression and Rage Disorder,” The doctor had told her simply, unphased by her explanation of her symptoms, “Most omegas can spend their cycle with any secondary gender, even other omegas. However, the disorder occurs when an omega requires an alpha and will become aggressive when a beta or an omega attempts to help.”

“How do I solve it?” YN asks desperately, this meant that she would never be able to spend her heat with someone and she couldn’t possibly imagine actually being with an alpha, she’d never been around one, really.

YN, of course, came in contact with alphas on the day-to-day, it wasn’t like they were rare.

It was that she didn’t have any friends, coworkers, or connections to alphas because she was in such a densely populated beta area before moving to the city after she graduated college.

“You need to find an alpha who’s willing to spend your heats with you or continue to spend you heats alone,” The doctor shrugs without any better explanation, “Unless you wish to take medication to completely stop your cycle but that has major medical risks that I would advise against, especially if you ever wish to have children.”

++

That’s where YN is at, with a disorder that doesn’t have a treatment that sounds remotely reasonable to her.

Searching whether in person or online for an alpha partner was extremely unsafe which meant that she had resorted to the fact that she would forever spend her heats alone, in pain.

It made her jealous when her omega friends bragged about how enjoyable, how blissful their heats were spent with their partners.

YN wishes she loved hers but instead, she finds herself thinking death sounds more pleasurable than forever spending five days locked in her bedroom by herself, a slave to her own nature with no help from anyone.

++ a year later ++

YN was going to pull her hair out, it was official because why was it so hard to find someone who appeared somewhat normal to fill the empty bedroom in her apartment?

For the last three years, YN had lived in peaceful harmony with her beta friend, Eileen.

Eileen had started dating her girlfriend, Regina, right after they moved in together.

Two weeks ago, Eileen had let YN know that she was moving out and in with Regina after their recent engagement which meant that she no longer had any income to help her with the rent nor the utilities in less than a month.

YN could technically afford everything on her own, the lease was in her name but it made money tight enough that she had to budget down to the dollar which she despised doing - it was much more manageable when she had someone splitting the bills with her.

And because she would rather not have to cut back on her frivolous spending like her unreasonable expensive smoothies and sure, maybe everytime she sees a pair of socks that look exceptionally comfy she feels the need to buy them.

However, after a third interview with a potential flatmate, YN thought that this may be an impossible task and she should already start her budgeting because there had been issues with all three interviewees.

The first, beta, needed the bathroom from six to nine pm with no explanation as to why.

The second, an omega, stated that she would need to be able to conduct an in-person yoga lesson with six people every other day in their living room.

The third, another beta, demanded that they split the fridge storage fifty-fifty because their last roommate put milk on their shelf of the fridge which they defined as a ‘personal attack’ because they were vegan.

So hopeless is where she found herself after that third beta.

That’s where Niall comes in, her lovely lovely beta friend who sometimes she worries has rocks for brain and other times he’s absolutely the most brilliant being to ever walk the earth, it just honestly depends on the day.

However, she could kiss him when he arrives at her apartment with a bag of chinese takeout and something to solve all of her issues completely, “I have a mate from work who needs a place. He makes good money so I know he’d have no issue paying his part. He’s cool, I trust him enough to recommend him, I’ve worked with him for like six years.”

YN barely even hesitated, she trusted Niall enough to know that he wouldn’t have offered the solution if he didn’t think that it was a good option for her.

He does get sheepish halfway through, “I…I did forget to mention that he’s an alpha.”

YN pauses at that, narrowing her eyes at him because he definitely left that part out in the initial description.

“Niall-” YN begins to huff because it’s not that she totally objected but it was something for her to consider and he had just left that out.

“I know, I know,” Niall puts his hands up, “He’s cool though. He really keeps to himself. I know you’ve never been around alphas, let alone live with one but I really think it would be fine. Don’t you trust me? Plus, he really needs a place to stay.”

YN really should give it more thought.

“He just texted and said he’d be willing to pay three thirds of the rent,” Niall tells her as he looks down at his phone, “If he can move in as soon as possible. Plus he’ll cover internet and electric.”

YN really really should think on it.

She’d never been around an alpha, let alone lived with one, she needs to think about it, weigh the pros and cons.

“Tell him he can move in on Friday,” YN finds herself saying and before she can think better of it, Niall is quickly typing away on his phone and the text alert goes off.

“He said that works for him,” Niall gives her an oblivious thumbs up before picking back up his container of rice and clicking the movie back on like he didn’t just wheel and deal the quickest decision she’s ever made in her life.

She didn’t even ask his name.

++

YN typically isn’t this dumb.

She actually prided herself on her impulse control and rational thinking but as she flutters around the apartment on Friday evening, trying to make it as spotless as possible for her new flatmate, she really starts to question her own sanity.

YN realizes that she’s going to have to have serious conversations with this alpha about boundaries, what will they do when it comes to their cycles, and the thought that their scents will run rampant because they obviously won’t use neutralizers when they’re at home.

Niall had not given much more information beside the fact that his name was Harry, he was twenty-eight, and had a higher up position in the company than Niall so they didn’t always have much interaction, Niall had actually just overheard a conversation he was having on the phone.

YN finds out that he had lived on his own since college but after his landlord decided he was going to sell the house he was renting, Harry had to find somewhere else quickly, and that resulted in him moving in with a friend from university.

That friend was another alpha, which turned sour very after soon after moving in together.

Niall was a bit hesitant when he told her that the issue was Harry, not the other alpha.

Harry was territorial, more of the pack leader type, and it became apparent within days that Harry simply could not share a space with another virile alpha despite Harry forcing the other alpha to submit to him on multiple occasions, it didn’t matter.

Even though Niall assured her that it wouldn’t be an issue because she was an omega, it didn’t make her feel much better but she has too strong of a conscious to promise a place for Harry to stay to then to pull that away from him.

Of course, Niall, the twat, couldn’t make it over while Harry was moving in because he had to go to a family birthday dinner which meant that it would just be the two of them.

“It will just be time to get to know one another,” Niall chirped easily on the phone, unbothered and oblivious to the tension that was building in YN.

++

Harry was supposed to be here at six in the evening.

He quite literally knocks on the door at exactly six.

YN hesitates for a moment before opening the door, her heart was beating unusually fast, and when she opens it, it begins to pump even faster.

The man standing in front of her was clearly an alpha without her even knowing this information before hand.

It was interwoven into every aspect of his being, in a way that could be seen physically but on the other hand, it was unspoken, she couldn’t quite describe it but he was exactly what she imagined an alpha to be.

All of him was defined, sharp from his jaw to his nose to his arms.

His shoulders were broad enough that YN wondered if he could even fit through the doorway without squeezing them inward.

He was tall, taller than she had imagined him, and that added with his width and the pure heft of his bulky but lean muscles - he was fucking intimidating and could hurt her without a shadow of a doubt, she’d be defensless.

This is a bad idea.

YN should tell him he can’t move in.

Her parents raised her better than to let a six foot something, very capable alpha in her home to share with her without knowing anything about him.

The fact of the matter was, he did not even look friendly.

Some alphas were like golden retrievers, easy going and a bit airheaded.

Harry was the stark opposite end of that.

The type of alpha that people avoid because of how dangerous they can be.

If YN was walking down the sidewalk and he was walking towards her, she would without a doubt cross the road to avoid bumping into him but yet, she was welcoming him into her house and something within her felt like this was a good idea.

Her inner omega that is.

Who we all know craves an alpha like water and air.

She pushes that down, as much as possible when she notices how big his hands are and how they would look holding her hips -

He has a frown on his face, the light wrinkles it causes shows YN that he has that expression quite often as he looks at her with a mixture of boredom and exasperation, he should be so fucking friendly because of how much YN is overextending to help him.

He isn’t.

After a moment, YN realizes she’d been staring at him dumbly and has yet to introduce herself.

“YN?” Harry finally asks and his voice is deep, only like an alpha’s can be, no beta could even imitate the vibrato of that tone.

“Yeah, uh, come in?” YN’s voice is higher pitched than she’d prefer as she steps aside, her greeting coming out much more like a question than a statement.

Harry blinks dully at her, a backpack over his shoulder and a few boxes next to his feet, “If you do not want me to come in, just say it. If me being an alpha or a guy is too much, tell me now before I move all my fuckin’ stuff in. I don’t like playing these back and forth games.”

YN is startled by his attitude, she can’t recall a time when anyone has ever talked to her so bluntly or without politeness which again, inherently an alpha thing but it still had her off kilter a bit as his face doesn’t change.

“No, sorry, yeah. You can bring your stuff in, I haven’t changed my mind,” YN steps further back into the apartment, spreading her arms, “This is it. Sorry, I know it isn’t much but I guess a roof over your head is better than nothing.”

Harry doesn’t even bother to look around, doesn’t compliment the comfy furniture or the cute little decorations, “It’s fine. Where’s my room?”

YN knows her smile falls when she realizes this is going exceptionally worse than she had already been dreading, which means that she leads him around the apartment, showing him the bathroom, laundry, linen closet, and then to his room as he remains completely silent.

When he goes to begin to bring his few boxes in, YN moves to pick one up to help but he stops her abruptly, voice firm and demanding,  “No. Put that down.”

YN’s eyebrows shoot into her hairline, “Sorry!” She apologizes for the millionth time in less than thirty minutes, “I was just trying to be helpful.”

Harry snarls his lip in the slightest,  “Am I the alpha or are you?”

YN’s swallows harshly, voice small, “You are.”

“Right. I am the alpha, I will move the heavy boxes, I will unpack. It is my job, not yours,” Harry tells her as he brushes past her to deposit the box into his room before coming out for the next one without anything else to say.

YN should probably stand her ground, set those firm boundaries but she doesn’t, instead she hides out in her room with her cat, Beatrice, (who was also hiding from the unknown visitor) and does not plan to come out until tomorrow morning or until he’s asleep.

But no, when it’s nearly ten at night, YN finally gathers enough courage to knock on his bedroom door to set the house rules, the boundaries because she couldn’t make Harry like her but they could at least be civil.

Or so she thought.

Harry answered the door after a minute, his shirt was off and he was just in a pair of joggers, there was stuff all over his room that he was obviously in the midst of organizing but it also looked worse before everything fit perfectly into place.

“What?” He asks impatiently, like he has a timeframe and YN is disrupting something major.

YN’s mind goes completely blank for a moment because for the first time since he came in, probably because it was night time and his morning scent neutralizers had worn off but she can smell his natural scent for the first time.

It was stronger because he didn’t have anything blocking his glands, his chest was heavily tattooed, and unfairly defined, looking as if he never spent a minute outside of the gym with muscles cut in places YN didn’t even know muscle existed.

His scent was…unlike anything that she had ever smelled in her life.

It was rich, deep, and dark.

It made her dizzy, sleepy, like she could fall into a trance of getting lost in it.

Thick, warm waves of it seemed to short-circuit her mind and make it hard for her to even remember what her purpose was of standing in front of him.

She had never reacted so strongly to scent in her life, never even noticed most of the time what others smelled like but this was seeping into her veins and she couldn’t quite get enough of it as she tried to subtly breathe it in as much as possible.

“What do you want?” Harry reiterates, louder and definitely more annoyed as he crosses his arms.

YN has to blink a few times before she’s shaking her head, “Uh, I just wanted to go over like….house rules? Anything you need from me? Boundaries? How can we operate around each other since we’re going to be living together?”

Harry jaw clenches, his nostrils flared, and he looks appalled.

YN realizes then that he must be able to smell her and by his reaction, he must absolutely hate her scent which made shame and mortification run through her body, of being rejected by this alpha was absolutely confidence crushing.

YN swallows down the whine.

Harry’s eyes trace up to her once, “Here’s the house rules, stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours. I’m not looking for a friend. I’m only looking for a place to stay. Understood?”

YN’s mouth is dry, her brain is having a hard time focusing on the harshness of his words because his scent is flashing bright sparkles in her eyesight at the same time, “What about your rut? My heat?”

Harry’s eyes narrow, turning a bit predatory, dangerous for a moment before he’s replying, “I’m sure you have help. If you bring another beta or omega here, that will be fine. I will not bother you. Niall told me you do not typically associate with alphas.”

“Um, okay…That works,” YN lies because she really can’t have another omega or beta here but if she has too, maybe she can try again? Maybe if they come over while she’s not yet in her heat? She’ll have to think about that later, “Your rut?”

“I have it handled,” Harry replies defensively, stepping back and putting his hand on the doorknob, “Just give me a heads up beforehand so that I won’t be blindsided by coming home to the scent change but I will also communicate that with you.”

“Okay, that sounds good-”

The door is shut on her without her even being able to finish her sentence.

“Rude ass fucking alpha,” YN mutters under her breath as she shakes her head, when she plops on her bed, she may or may not scream into her pillow for a moment because she just got herself into a worse situation than she could imagine.

But yet it hasn’t once crossed her mind to kick him out.

Why?

She doesn’t have a clue.

++

YN does not see Harry once during the first two weeks of him living with her.

Not even a glimpse.

And YN would actually wonder if he still even lived here if she wasn’t constantly overwhelmed by his scent.

He must come out of his room once YN is asleep, she does not understand how it is so thick, cloying on every surface of her apartment.

The second you walk in, it hits you, and lets anybody who enters know that an alpha lives here, there would not even be a doubt.

YN vaguely finds herself wondering one night as she sits on her couch whether or not Harry had scent marked the apartment, claiming it as his territory.

She had heard alphas do that, especially when they live with their omega to show that their mate has an alpha who protects them and their home.

However, that’s not the case here, and YN is pretty sure that Harry doesn’t even remotely like her, let alone want to live here so why would he want to claim it?

She rules that out as a possibility, mostly, but when she wakes up in the morning and he had already left for the day, well she can’t help but notice as fucking beautiful her house smells.

YN only gets her heat every six months with the suppressant she’s on but the entire month leading up to it, she finds herself starting to get more rooted in her omega tendencies.

Harry had been living with her for fourish months by this point and nothing had changed since the beginning.

He didn’t use the living room, showered early before YN would wake up and was already gone, and stayed out of the kitchen before she would go to bed.

In the four months, the sightings had been few and far between and she realized that he meant it very literally when he said that he’ll stay out of her way if she stays out of his.

In the sparse times they’ve shared space, whether it was in the hallway or kitchen, Harry’s lip would always curl up and his nose twitched which always incited a bit of insecurity about her scent.

She had always gotten compliments on hers, how light and powdery it smelled like clean laundry spritzed with a hint of orange blossom and vanilla.

YN did not understand why it was so unappealing to the alpha but he was in for a rude awakening as the month leading up to her heat began.

Her scent got noticeably stronger, she felt the urge to scentmark more items in her apartment to claim that this was her home and safe space.

As expected, Harry didn’t say anything the day it all started to intensify.

And to be fair, he never said anything to her.

The closest thing she would get was a low grunt of greeting but despite that, she felt safe with him in her home, and never had any worry that she was in danger.

The alpha made her feel an overwhelming sense of security, in fact, that she had never felt with any beta or omega.

It wasn’t necessary that he was mean to her or treated her poorly, he just…was there.

He didn’t bring anyone home with him, never asked if he could have someone spend the night nor has she ever smelled any visitors either.

However, things really start to change in the beginning of October, the month before her heat would crest and peak before the cycle started all over again.

The first major change she would notice was the difficulty sleeping.

Normally, she slept better than most without typically ever having to get up in the middle of the night or any tossing and turning.

When October hit, it felt near impossible for her to fall asleep and then when she was so exhausted that she did end passing out, it wouldn’t be long before she was awake again which made her always feel like she needed a nap.

++

It was late for a weekday, the clock showing that it was close to midnight, and she had to be up for work at six in the morning but her body did not seem to get the memo because after attempting to sleep since ten, it had not been successful.

YN decided to give it some time before she laid back down again.

YN grabbed a bag of pretzels from the cupboard, gave Beatrice one of the squeeze tubes of tuna-flavored goop, and cuddled up on the couch in the living room.

Of course, nothing sounded good as she flipped through the options, and decided on a romantic comedy that didn’t really interest her but it was her best option to make her sleepy, even if it was from the boredom of a corny film.

YN was about thirty-five minutes in when she realized that the movie wasn’t a helpful tool to fall asleep because she was completely interested in the plot line and she was even more awake than before trying to follow the story.

It made her jump in the slightest when the lock turns in the front door before it’s being opened roughly as Harry walks into the small entryway, shutting the door behind him, and beginning to shuck his coat without even realizing she was sitting there.

She hears him grumpily mumble, “Always leaves the fuckin’ television on.”

Which, yeah, she does forget half the time and the other half she feels like Beatrice likes it on for comfort.

Harry looked worn down, tired, and as beautiful as ever.

He had a duffle over his shoulder that most likely held his work clothes and gym outfit because YN was quite sure that after he was down at his office, he went to the gym which he was at for quite a long time.

She vaguely remembers Niall saying that he boxes occasionally for money and that he trains daily which was a pretty brutal routine of working out before work and after work with no time for relaxation in between.

After he’s lined his shoes up neatly against the wall, (YN notices that he also does the same with her shoes that she had half-haphazardly kicked off when she came home from work), he walks into the living room.

It was obvious that he was going toward the television to shut it off but he lets out the lowest growl of surprise when he spots YN tucked deeply into the corner of the couch with a blanket tucked like a burrito around her.

And YN had never heard, in real life, an alpha growl before.

Instead of being scared, she felt the sudden urge to purr, which scared the absolute shit out of her because why the fuck would she want to purr? She’d only done that when she was a pup and never in her adult life.

Why would she want to do that when this alpha was obviously on edge to the point of growling.

“What are you doing?” Harry grunts, voice sharp and annoyed, nostrils flaring as he must take in her smell.

“I couldn’t sleep,” YN replies hesitantly, eyes darting back up to the screen and then to him because his gaze was so intense and accusatory - it was her house, she could be wherever she wanted when she wanted no matter what time.

“Why?” Harry follows up, his arms crossing over his chest, and making his biceps look unfairly big.

YN grits her teeth, debating on whether she wants to give him a snarky remark to mind his business but then she remembers that she has to live with him and would rather not have them on worse terms then they already seem to be on.

“I always have difficulty sleeping the month of my pre-heat,” YN shrugs, a little embarrassed to be talking about something so intimate with someone who likely did not want to hear anything about her personal life.

“Is that normal?” Harry’s brow furrows, not seeming to like her answer to his question.

YN swipes her tongue across her front teeth nervously, “Um, not really. I…I have a lot of issues regarding my heats and that is one of many. Yeah, I see a doctor but there’s only so much they can do, I guess.”

Harry nods in understanding, doesn’t ask anymore questions or even acknowledge her again as he goes about making himself something to eat before disappearing into his room without another word to her which she was used to by this point.

YN rewinds the movie at bit, she couldn’t really focus when Harry was in the vicinity, and his smell was so fucking overwhelming as he obviously hadn’t showered after the gym and was waiting until he got home.

It wasn’t a bad smell, neither of sweat or filth.

No, it was just that his already delicious smell was stronger, darker, and just encompassing every molecule of the apartment.

It takes her a moment to refocus her attention back on the screen and remember where she had left off, vaguely hearing the shower start to run before he’s shutting the door to his bedroom a little more roughly than a normal.

The plot takes a very unexpectant twist at the end and YN didn’t realize that this rom-com had a sad ending which she really wasn’t used to in most films like this.

After working through all the turmoil and drama that kept popping up for this couple, they finally get it right, and the alpha was about to propose to the omega when he got in a car accident, and ended up passing away.

YN doesn’t not even recognize that she is sobbing like an absolute baby until Harry is standing in front of her with a twitch of irritation in his jaw and only in a pair of joggers, nothing stopping her from seeing the bare, defined muscle of his upper half.

“Why are you crying?” Harry asks as he looks down at her, arms crossed yet again.

YN wipes her face with the sleeve of her oversized hoodie, tears tracks surely making her face puffy as she sits up, “It ha-had a really sad ending I wasn’t expecting,” YN nods up towards where the credit were rolling, “Th-The alpha dies and doesn't get to pro-propose.”

“That’s got you all worked up?” Harry sighs as he moves to grab the remote, flicking off the television and motioning for her to stand up, “You need to try to go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” YN nearly whines, making tears start again.

Oh, did she mention she gets unreasonably emotional during her pre-heat?

“Try,” Harry insists and he gently grabs her wrist, pulling her to her feet, “For both of our sakes, please just try to get some rest.”

YN frowns at that, why does it matter to him?

She hates that she feels disappointed when he lets go of her.

“Okay,” YN agrees as she shuffles her feet towards her bedroom, despising that despite how unfriendly the alpha is, she finds herself wanting comfort from him which…it just doesn’t make any sense and she pushes those thoughts to the very back of her mind.

YN veers off towards the bathroom first and by the time she turns to say goodnight, Harry’s already back in his room with the door shut, and she just ends up sighing before shutting the door of the bathroom to use it before she tries to sleep again.

As she sits down, she notices a pile of fabric in the corner near the sink, and out of curiosity once she’s done, she plucks it up and holds it out.

It was the shirt that Harry had been wearing when he came home, the one he worked out in, and it was absolutely drenched in that smell that made YN weak at the knees.

Harry was meticulously clean.

He never even left behind as much as a crumb of a sandwich and so seeing a shirt of his was unusual because it had never happened before.

YN has no excuse for her behavior, doesn’t really even consciously realize that she’s doing it until she’s back in her room with his shirt tucked up into her hoodie.

She pulls it out and pathetically enough, brings it to her nose where it just smells of alpha, comfort, security, and everything she could ever imagine

It feels wrong, invasive to his privacy almost, and she has never done anything like this in her life.

There was something that outweighed all those negative feelings because she finds that as soon as she lays down and tucks the shirt around her pillow to lay her face into, her eyes instantly become droopy and in no time, she’s out like a light.

+

YN tries to push the whole shirt incident out of her mind the next day, blaming it on her pre-heat haziness, and absolutely nothing else.

Logically, she knows she should return his shirt to him, at least tossing it in his hamper but his scent lingered for days afterwards and there was a direct correlation to how much better she had been sleeping since.

When the scent was completely gone, it was like clockwork that YN began to not be able to fall asleep.

It leads her to another night on the couch, another night of Harry coming in late, and being irritated that she was still awake.

“You were fine the last few nights,” Harry notes as his greeting, no ‘hello’ or ‘how was your day’.

YN bites the corner of her lip, lowering the volume a tad on the television, “I know.”

“So why are you up right now?” Harry questions and god, are all alphas this blunt and impersonal or was it just this alpha in particular.

“Because I couldn’t sleep,” YN replies like it’s obvious.

Harry bares his teeth slightly, “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I told you, my pre-heat,” YN realizes that she’s getting a bit defensive because the real answer is much more mortifying and something she would never actually share with him.

He steps in, dropping his duffle unceremoniously, and walks closer to her.

Harry starts to speak slowly, precisely like he’s trying to get YN to understand, “I am not stupid. I understand that. I am asking you, what made you sleep the last few nights? You slept like a rock when I check-, when I walked past your room.”

YN shouldn’t react the way she does but she feels in a way that all the tension between them bubbles up.

Not to mention, it’s incredibly irritating to her how drawn her omega is to him, his scent, his presence, and she fucking hates it because he’s a dickhead.

“I don’t fuckin know, okay? Leave it alone. I’m allowed to be in my living room at whatever hour of the night I please without a fucking interregation,” YN snaps at him angrily, cursing when tears start to drip down her cheeks, and these hormones just sucked, amplifying every emotion she has ten-fold.

Harry lets out a low growl at that, just like the other night, and it doesn’t scare YN once again.

No, for some reason it makes her anger ebb just the slightest.

“Stop the attitude,” Harry replies evenly but his voice was deeper, “I was just checking in on you.”

Anyone else telling her to stop her attitude?

It would have escalated into a nasty fight.

YN instead just deflates, curling up further into her blanket, and covering her face because she just couldn’t get in control of the tears that were streaming down.

He must think she’s a lunatic.

Harry leaves her once again to go shower.

YN’s absolutely praying that he leaves a shirt rumbled on the floor again, despite how guilty that thought makes her feel.

She just wants sleep and for her hormones to even out.

YN feels a bit like a criminal when she goes to the bathroom, soon after Harry had went back out to make himself something for dinner, and there’s a massive disappointment in her stomach when the bathroom is as spotless as always.

She is craving the scent, she knows she can get another fix of it but it would definitely be in his hamper, in his room, and it’s such an invasion of privacy for her to go in there but then again, he’s frying something on the stovetop and he wouldn’t know…

YN’s never stolen in her life, not even gum or nail polish when she was younger, and it’s not even really stealing because she’ll give it back as soon as the scent wears off (but that’s not really true because she hasn’t returned his other shirt and has no intention of it).

She’s already opened his door, quickly scoping out the space, and realizing that his bedroom was the absolute fucking motherload of everything she could ever dream of.

If she thought their whole apartment smelled like him, his bedroom was if you bottled it in a jar, it was thicker, more cloying than ever, and she noticed a purring in her chest before she realized she was doing it and stopped.

If she was completely insane, she would try to grab as much as possible, until her arms are overflowing and she can’t carry out anything else without it falling.

But she’s not that far off the deep end that she did that, she felt creepy enough as she tiptoed over to his laundry hamper and snatched the shirt that was lying on top, the one that Harry had walked in the apartment wearing early.

YN wishes she could loiter a bit longer but that meant a higher chance that she was going to get caught.

She is surprisingly successful as she sneaks back into her room, proud that she now has two shirts to add to her nest.

YN always had a nest, it provided her comfort and security but she absolutely loved that she could intertwine the fabric together with her soft blankets.

This meant she was guaranteed a few more good night sleeps.

++

YN was running incredibly behind for work the next.

She had slept so well that she must have turned off her alarm instead of snoozing iit.

Because when she finally cracks her eyes open, the sun is breaking through her blinds, and her body knows that it is much later than six in the morning.

Her phone confirms that when she clicks on the screen she sees that it is seven-thirty-five.

Any other day, it really wouldn’t be that big of a deal because besides meetings she could make her own schedule.

Of course, of course, she sleeps on the day of an important presentation that she was the head presenter on.

It started at nine which didn’t give her much wiggle room because the commute takes a decent amount of time and that’s if there’s no hectic traffic.

“Shit, shit, shit,”  YN chants to herself when rolls out of bed, glaring judgmentally at Beatrice, and muttering, “You wake me up every other morning for breakfast, but not today, of all days?”

Beatrice blinks slowly at her before she lifts her paw pointedly and nibbles on it.

There’s no time for a shower or the makeup she wanted to do.

The only luck that was on her side was that she laid her outfit out last night after being incredibly indecisive about what she wanted to wear in front of the board of higher ups.

She had tugged her hair up into a loose ponytail that actually passed for the messy updo style, and put on her best push-up bra right after.

YN figured that while she was tugging on her trousers that she could go out to feed Beatrice,  the button was being finicky as it always tending to be so she was looking down as she begin down the hall, and nearly fell backwards when she runs into something hard, warm, and delicious smelling.

Harry’s big hands reach out and wrap around her bare arms, keeping her upright as she yelps in surprise, pants going unbuttoned for a moment as she grips Harry’s forearms for stability and looks at him with wide eyes.

His nostrils are flaring viciously, an irritated growling rumbling through his chest, and he keeps his eyes on her the full time.

They never once darted down to her chest,  that not only was just covered by her bra but was also sheer enough that her nipples were completely visible through the nude fabric.

YN is confused by her own desire to just curl into his chest and feel his shirtless chest against her barely clothed one, and what the fuck.

“Wha-“ YN stammers in confusion, why is he home?

“Why aren’t you at work?” Harry asks pointedly, his jaw was clenched tightly enough that it must be aching with soreness.

“I-I overslept,” She replies shakily, his hands still gripping her arms, fingertips pressing in, “I need to feed Beatrice.”

“No, what you need to do is get yourself dressed. Do you walk around half-naked with every alpha you know? S’indecent,” He’s scolding her like a child as he finally steps back.

YN has been so nice up until this point, despite how wonky her hormones have been.

She’s typically never a nasty person.

She rarely ever gets angry either.

However, today was the wrong day to fuck with her.

“Fuck you,” YN snaps back out of her stupor, much to Harry’s surprise, “I told I was late and I didn’t think you’d be home because you’re always at work by now. I’m sorry I’ve offended you with my body, prick.”

YN turns on her heel, storming back to her room, and snatching up her phone to check the time to see an email notification from her work.

Good morning,

We hope this email finds you well. Our office has to be unfortunately shut down for the next few days due to a major power outage after flooding in the basement of the building. We are estimating a three to four day shutdown. To show our gratitude for your patience, these days will be marked as paid time off. Stay tuned for more information and updates.

Thank you,

Evergreen Financial Accounting

YN feels a huge weight lifted off her chest because not only does she get a few days to relax but now she isn’t going to be late to her important presentation .

However, she does not feel completely relieved because the anger chewing at her over her housemate is just as heavy, even more prominent, and has triggered her inner hormonal omega.

YN fees a flash of defiance which is never a good sign as she usually never tries to rock the boat or cause a stir, prefers to fly under the radar.

No, not today.

YN storms back out of her room because she was going to feed Beatrice in her bra and unbuttoned work slacks if she wanted to.

Harry was sat on the living room couch which was an uncommon sight, a protein drink in a shaker cup, and his eyes on his phone in the opposite hand.

YN goes back into the kitchen, deciding she might as well make herself a breakfast sandwich while she’s at it after she fills Beatrice’s bowl.

She can feel his eyes on her, intense and if it could, his gaze would be burning a hole in her back with how directed and annoyed it was.

YN moves slowly, now that she’s in no rush at all, and she feels stupid for being surprised when Harry lets out a snarl loud enough to echo in the space.

YN doesn’t turn around.

It feels dangerous, she’d learned over and over again growing up to never ever antagonize an alpha, and here she was.

When she doesn’t respond to the noise, it gets louder and makes her ears ring just the slightest, he’s trying to force her attention on him.

Bossy, ill-mannered alpha.

His voice is closer when he speaks, she never even hears him get up.

“Go get some fuckin’ clothes on,” Harry orders,  his voice deeper, raspier than she had ever heard it.

But it also sent a very unpleasant spark of nervousness up her spine because the alpha in front of her was past the point of being annoyed, he was furious.

His shoulders were as broad as they could go, his teeth flashing at her, and his scent was richer, thicker, tinged with a sharp pine.

The playful, brattiness dissipates from her body as his growls stay loud, demanding, deafening.

YN doesn’t realize at first what a bad decision it is to flip her hair over her shoulder, putting her bare bond spot right on display in front of an agitated alpha.

To her utter dismay, he steps forward and their chests are nearly touching, his eyes were now completely focused on the curve of her neck.

When he reaches up, cupping the side of her neck, and curiously thumbs over the spot, YN cannot control the whine that leaves her throat.

His eyes move directly back up to hers, the noise drags him for his daze, and back into reality.

He actually does look her up and down this time, eyes lingering on her chest for a minute before he’s hissing at her once again, “Go get a fucking shirt on.”

With that, he’s turning and grabbing his duffle before storming out the front door, shutting it hard enough it vibrates but then she still hears him take the time to lock it.

Stupid fucking alpha.

+++++++++

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Do a human a “Solid”

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

On Xenthari it was both culturally acceptable and almost mandatory to participate in duels. They could be fought for honor, profit, social status, or for the sheer thrill of it should one be of that disposition. Participants could even choose champions to fight for them instead making the position of professional duelist a very lucrative occupation.

Lulu did not particularly enjoy the idea of dueling. She never was good with a sword and would more often end up losing, and she lacked enough funds to make hiring someone in her stead near impossible. At school she had few friends and the ones she did have would never volunteer to be her champions when she was eventually challenged to duels.

It wasn’t because she was actively searching for them. She rather liked her quiet life and avoided such confrontations that would lead to a duel being issued. Yet she was a social outcast and picking on her had been deemed a past time for some of the more aggressive students at her school. They would easily disarm her and then take great relish in attacking her.

Duels for those underage were different from official duels. One could not deal a lethal blow in underage duels. Rules stated that while surrender was a great dishonor, a duelist could surrender and forfeit the duel after being dealt one blow. Because Lulu hated fighting she would let her opponents get a blow in and then surrender. With that though came dishonor to her name and her standing as an outcast only further grew.

Lulu had resigned herself to this fate until one day a transfer student came to school.

Her name was Trisha Yulie, but she preferred to be called “Triss”. Her family had sent her to Xenthari after several “incidents” happened at her school back on her homeworld. They thought that being in such a drastically different environment and society would make her appreciate the things she used to have. Little did her parents know that the combative nature of Xenthari would only increase these tendencies; one of which introduced Triss to her new friend, Lulu.

The two had never interacted with each other until one day in the cafeteria Lulu saw Triss near one of the food dispensers. She was rummaging through her pockets and looking upset; Lulu figured the human did not have enough currency to purchase an item.

“Here.” Lulu said as she walked next to Triss.

She leaned forward and put a token into the machine and then smacked the side of it three times in certain places. The machine sputtered and beeped for a moment before a food package emerged from the dispenser. Lulu took it and handed it to Triss.

Looking down at the food Triss smiled as she gratefully took it. “Thanks,” Triss said as she followed Lulu back to a table, “was getting so hungry I started wondering if there were any horses around here.”

Lulu looked at Triss and something must have shown on her face as Triss realized she would have no idea what a horse was. She was just about to explain when a group of students came up behind Llulu and shoved her.

“Get up.” The leader of them laughed. “It’s time for your correction.”

Lulu didn’t need to see who had shoved her as she recognized the voice even before she stood up and turned around.

Ulia, the most popular student and heir to a wealthy transit corporation run by her family, gave a sadistic grin as her gang of lackeys laughed. She loved to pick on Lulu and normally she would have just allowed the duel to happen, but Triss had other ideas.

“Oi, fuck face!” Triss spoke up as Ulia shifted he gaze to Triss. “Me and my new friend here were having a conversation and you weren’t invited, so piss off!”

“How cute.” Ulia chuckled. “You let your dog speak for you now, eh Lulu?”

“Did she just fucking call me a dog?” Triss asked a still silent Lulu. “Have you looked in a mirror? Your face is so ugly it gets flagged for indecent exposure online.”

For the first time Lulu could ever remember she was Ulia’s face twitch in anger.

“I see that I need to teach our new exchange student here some manners.”

Triss sighed loudly. “I was going to give you a chance to apologize, but now I’m just going to kick your ass.”

The surrounding students pulled tables away to form a circle. Ulia drew her sword and activated its power field. The blade lit to life as it was enveloped by a green glow casting shadows across the room.

Ulia grinned as she drew the blade close to her face “Draw your blade so we can end this farce.”

To her surprise Triss shook her head and shrugged off her school jacket revealing a well-toned body of raw muscle. “Don’t need a fancy stick to beat you when I got these.” She shook out her hands and brought them up as clenched fists.

“Your funeral.” Ulia laughed as she took up a ready stance. One of her lackeys stepped between Triss and Ulia and acted as ref. “The duel will begin when I step back out of the ring. First one to verbally surrender or be rendered incapable of continuing the duel will be designated the loser and thus ending the duel. No lethal blows are allowed.”

With that the lackey stepped backwards beginning the duel.

Ulia lunged forward ready to run Triss through with the tip of her sword. Triss stood motionless for the last second until the blade was inches from her.

Pivoting to the side at the last moment Triss avoided the blade as Ulia’s forward momentum kept her going. She was about to spin her blade around when Triss drove a hard right punch directly into her jaw.

The blow was heavy enough to stagger Ulia as she tried to recover but Triss gave her no time. She was within Ulia’s guard in a flash and delivered another blow to the opposite side of Ulia’s jaw.

“Waaagh?” Ulia stammered as she stumbled back into the crowd of onlookers. Her eyes went wide as she gurgled more noises with increasing frustration but no intelligible words came out.

“By now you’ve probably realized your jaw has been completely dislocated from your skull.” Triss spoke as she circled Ulia. “I didn’t want you giving up too early; gotta lot of steam I need to blow off.”

Ulia shoved the people around her away and tried to shout something only for it to be slurred beyond recognition. She brought the sword down hard in a long sweep towards Triss but she backed away to avoid it.

Unleashing a flurry of blows each one capable of cutting through flesh, but Triss continued dodging them left and right like a prize boxer. She opened up another devastating blow to Ulia’s midriff causing her to vomit a large amount of fluid.

The crowd watched with horrified silence. Never had they seen a duel with fists before. It was something utterly foreign to them and had been taught to be barbaric. Yet here was a human who with only her fists was decimating a sword wielder.

Triss circled Ulia who had collapsed to the ground. “You want to give up princess?” she mocked. “Just say the word and…oh wait! You can’t much say anything right now can you?”

Ulia swept her blade for Triss’s ankles. With a swift motion Triss lifted her right foot and brought it down as hard as she could on Ulia’s hand holding the sword, crushing the wrist with a loud wet crunch. The blade fell from Ulia’s hand as she cradled her now broken wrist with her remaining hand.

Triss picked up the blade and inspected it. “What you think Lulu?” Triss called over to Lulu who was standing in the gathered crowd. “She started messing with you; want me to rough her up some more?”

Every eye in the crowd suddenly turned to look at Lulu. Lulu’s mouth opened to speak but nothing came out as Triss continued.

“I wonder, how much credibility do you think you’d lose if you were cut by your own blade?”

She held the blade out against Ulia’s cheek as her eyes went wide. “Bet you’re little groupies here might bail on you.” Triss leaned down and whispered to Ulia. “Or maybe you’re more worried about what your family would say?”

Tears of pure teal formed in the corners of her eyes as Ulia tried to speak only for Triss to shush her by putting a finger over her mouth.

“If you don’t want that to happen, I think you should leave me and my friend alone from now on; else the next time we have this little dispute you won’t end so peacefully.”

With that Ulia nodded and collapsed to the ground.

“Looks like she can’t continue,” Triss announced proudly, dropping the sword in, “I think that means I’m the winner.”

The crowd parted as Triss walked back to Lulu and put an arm over her shoulder. “I think we were having lunch before all that happened, want to get back to it?”

“Ssssure.” Lulu stammered as she let Triss lead her back to their table. As the pair sat down she finally worked up the courage to say “Thank you.”

“For what?” Triss remarked as she tried to pull open the food package Lulu gave her earlier.

“For standing up for me.” Lulu replied. She leaned over and pressed a button on the package and it flash cooked the meal and opened itself.

Triss nodded her thanks and began digging in. “You did me a solid so I do you one; tit for tat.”

“So because I got you lunch you fought a duel for me? Lulu asked, astounded when Lulu nodded.

“A solid is a solid, doesn’t matter if it is equal or not; that’s what friends do for each other.”

[jarofstyles]

could u please do a quick lil fluffy one about heavily pregnant y/n and harry at an event like maybe an award after party or something? and her just not feeling great so he takes her home and they have a cute little cozy night in and just him taking care of her

Yes I can, sweet dove!

Check out our Patreon!

-----

"Y'alright?" His voice was quiet, but loud enough for her to hear over the loud chatter and music. His eyes were vigilant on her the entire night and he could visibly see her start to wilt a little bit in the last few minutes.

When she had agreed to go to the show with him, she hadn't anticipated how tiring it would be. How many people she would speak to, how many people would want to touch her belly. The congratulations had been so, so lovely- but if one more person touched her, Y/N would probably cry.

But this was Harry's event, his work, and she wasn't about to risk anything by complaining. She used to attend everything- the rehearsals and late night shows and signings, but with the arrival of their first baby looming over them and the trials and tribulations of a first time pregnancy, Y/N had been down for the count for a bit.

She did well, all things considered. She had stayed active and ate as well as she could -though the powder sugar mini donuts, sprite and salty French fries sprinkled with sugar had been her weaknesses- and ultimately had a smooth pregnancy. However, nearing the end now, her hormones were shot, her body ached, and her feet were swollen.

Sucking it up all night, she had kept a nice face and leaned into Harry's embrace. His hand had rested protectively over her bump, the swollen stomach his pride and joy as well as his most worried about asset, and he had been a doting father to be all night- but she didn't want to ruin anything for him.

It was nearing 1 in the morning, though, and she was shot. Preparations had begun at noon, making it more than 12 hours of hustle and bustle. Y/N craved mint chip ice cream, crisps, and the couch.

"Feet are swelling." Her response was mumbled into his shirt, but she knew he would understand. "Feels like m'standing on needles."

"Darling." His concerned tone matched the cute little furrow of his brow, making her smile. "Should have said something earlier."

"Didn't want to interrupt. This is work, and I got to eat my sweets earlier." That had been part of the incentive, as well as the goody bag. It was wild what people would send celebrities that could easily afford all the products, but Y/N was a woman who took what she could get!

"You're more important than the lot of them. Our son is napping well inside your stomach." He shook his head. "Cmon. We can go home, let me just say goodbye."

"Kay. Can we get my foot spa out when we get home?" She asked as she followed him to grab their coats. He had gotten her one that heated the water and acted like a mini jacuzzi for her aching feet and it had been one of her favorite things ever.

"Course. I'll get the nice smelling lotion and rub them after, hm? Need you comfortable too. Did you want to stop and get some chips?" His thoughtfulness made her tear up, sniffling before she cursed the hormones. This was common and irritating but she couldn't help it.

"Y-You read my mind. Milkshake too?" She peeped, wide, teary eyes looking up at him with hope. No good fast food run was complete without it.

"As if I could say no to you, my darling." A kiss was pressed against the side of her head as he called for the valet. "Your wish is my command."

[yooniesim]

. Yall been making too much money for too long in shady ways " - ARE you okay doll? these people are making money by making CC which is a service their offering, I personally don't see why it offends you so much especially considering you're a CC finding page, they're giving you CC which may I add also gets publicly released a few weeks later but MAY I also add the money they get most likely goes to the EXPENSIVE software subscriptions for said cc D hope you have a marvellous day my dear. - Kenz

oh no... so it begins... lmfao

[howtofightwrite]

Every movie makes it look so easy to snap someone's neck by twisting their head really fast and hard, and it's used all the time, but it can't possibly be that easy or effective can it? It's not like every Joe Schmoe on the street can start going around snapping necks can they? They also love to have people snap necks between their thighs, I imagine that's even harder and less likely to work.

So, breaking someone's neck with your bare hands basicallyisn't a thing. Actually breaking your neck doesn't take a lot of force, but the whole neck snap thing takes an absolutely comical amount of force to work, and even if it did, it wouldn't necessarily be lethal. The idea is that it severs the spinal column or the brain stem, but in practice, all you'd be able to do is abuse some dense muscles and ligatures.

This is a real risk in auto accidents, particularly if the victim isn't properly belted, but the version you see in films is pure fiction.

Choking someone out is a lot more viable. This can either come from asphyxiation, or from obstructing blood flow to the brain. The former is slow, and is likely to cause the victim to panic while they slowly lose consciousness. The latter (sometimes called a blood choke, or triangle choke) can quickly lead to death, as you starve the brain of oxygen by cutting it off after it's been absorbed by the body. You do sometimes see these in film, though the amount of time needed to subdue someone is hilariously abbreviated. If you're just choking someone, that will take minutes before they'll lose consciousness, and they're going to seriously start to freak out once they realize they can't breath. Blood chokes, as mentioned earlier, are faster, but you're still looking at a long time in a fight.

Neck snapping with the thighs is about as plausible as the neck twist. Choking someone out with the thighs is slightly more credible. Legs can be used in submission holds while grappling. But, if we're being honest, I think we all know that this isn't used because it's realistic, it's the sex appeal. Without speaking from personal experience, I suspect thigh chokes are harder to get out of, simply because your legs are significantly stronger than your arms, but I'm speculating.

Also, importantly, suffering a broken neck isn't (usually) going to be immediately lethal. As mentioned earlier, unless the spinal chord is severed or the brain stem is damaged, they'll survive. This may result in a life altering injury, but it's not going to be an, “oh, they're instantly, and quietly, dead.”

I remember running across a news report, when we last covered this, where a couple of teens had decided to kill someone by snapping their neck. The victim ended up with some soreness in their neck, and the teens went away for attempted murder. Moral of the story, this doesn't work.

-Starke

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[stylesharrys]

All That You Are | Prologue [Mafiarry]

An arranged marriage is set, and Y/N has no say in the matter.

A/N: okay, here you are, the start of mob! Harry all the way from Patreon. This has been so special to me as it’s been brought back from the past (we’re talking 5 years ago) and turned into what it is now! In this series, Gem is younger than Harry. I really hope you love this series as much as I loved writing it

WC: 1.1k

//

Giovanni Saccaro sips on his scotch in his parlour. His grey, wispy hair is combed back, his balding head glinting under the orange hues of the wall lights. His son sits beside him, twenty and full of life and excitement.

Bruno’s always teased Giovanni for the lack of hair on his head, promised that when he becomes Capo of the Californian Famiglia, he wouldn’t lose his looks and hair as his Father had.

Opposite them, across the dark oak desk, Stefano Dellucci leans back in his chair. He’s a few years younger than Saccaro and his hair isn’t balding just yet. Flown in from New York, he’s got a proposition to secure power and strength in his Famiglia.

There’s a glimmer of excitement in Dellucci’s eyes as he clasps his hands over his middle and relaxes further into his chair.

He shouldn’t be this relaxed in such a situation. He should be on his toes, ready for anything. His step-son sits beside him, dark brown locks ungodly waves on his head and his face is void of emotion, but there’s a wicked hint of a smirk that tugs on the corners of his pink lips.

Harry Styles-Dellucci, twenty-two-years-old and soon to be Capo of the New York Famiglia. Clad in a black Armani suit, his thick legs are spread wide and a menacing glint flickers in his eyes as Giovanni begins to lean forward and speak.

“It’s unexpected for me to receive a visit from the Dellucci’s. I don’t remember the last time New York and California met without there being a bloodbath,” he sips his scotch, “Tell me why this shouldn’t end the same way.”

Stefano fights back the urge to scoff but Harry doesn’t hide the way he rolls his eyes. Jeff stands by the door, warm brown eyes, that are anything but, drilling holes into Giovanni’s head and his hand rests on his gun holster beneath his suit vest.

Giovanni’s guard, Gomez, does the same from beside him. He reaches a hand to his side, a silent order to remain calm, to not cause a scene, and Gomez removes his hand from under the lapel of his suit blazer.

“There’s no need for hostility, Giovanni. We come in peace, to form an alliance of sorts,” Dellucci grins.

Giovanni sits back and squints, but waves his hand to continue. Harry has to bite back a scoff. The man acts as though he’s doing Stefano a favour by hearing him out, but in reality, Harry is about to be the one to save both their asses.

“And what did you have in mind?” Giovanni asks, somewhat interested.

Stefano’s lips twitch. “I understand you have a young daughter, almost of age to marry, but I hear you’re also yet to find her a husband.” Harry hates how disgusting Stefano sounds about the matter.

He isn’t entirely innocent, though. When he found out he’d have a trial of taking over as Capo, he jumped at the chance to rule and finally be away from his stepfather. But becoming Capo also means holding larger responsibilities, and to keep up appearances, he needs a wife.

A young, unscathed wife.

“And what makes you think I’d want to marry her off to some traitor by blood,” Giovanni seethes, his poisonous words doing nothing to phase Harry, even if it is direct disrespect toward his dead father.

Stefano raises a hand.

“Now, Saccaro, we all know what my son's relation to the English ensures us. People have come to terms with his blood heritage and it only secures our alliances with London, who are also allied with the Portuguese and Russians. Be wise with what you say next.”

It’s been no secret about Harry’s background and family. That his biological father was of English heritage and a mobster in an arranged marriage with an Italian woman to form allies between London and Italy.

Many view Harry as the poster child for a traitor, though others view him as one of the most powerful and dangerous Made Men out there. Harry has connections to the Portuguese, the English, Russians and Italian, all of which are just from being born.

No other Famiglia has connections quite like him, and the Saccaro’s should consider themselves honoured to be given this type of consideration.

Giovanni hums, a finger on his lips as though he’s deep in thought. Bruno squints his eyes as though anything he says will have an impact on Giovanni’s decision. Harry glances at his father, who looks like he might just burst if Saccaro turns him down.

He sinks back into his seat and smirks to himself. He knows the type of man Giovanni is, he’s heard the rumours. Late nights at the whoreclubs while his wife sleeps, blissfully aware but thankful he isn’t touching her instead.

Giovanni is a man that craves power and respect. And if he thinks this deal will give him that, there’s no reason for him to turn it down.

“She’s not even 18. I won’t whore her off until she’s of proper age,” Giovanni speaks and if Harry didn’t know better, he’d probably think he actually cared for his daughter, and not that the longer he waits, the more she’d be worth.

But he does know better. So much better.

“But she is of innocence, yes? There will be blood on the sheets,” Stefano asks, as though asking of her virginity is the most appropriate question for a father.

Harry can’t help but smirk at the idea. Having a woman completely bound to him, to respect him and please him only.

Harry has slept with enough women to know how to use his dick, but something about taking a woman’s innocence and making her completely his has his cock twinging in his pants.

Giovanni scoffs, Bruno’s grin thickening. Like father, like son. “Of course. She’s never even spoken with a man outside of this family and her guard, Gomez. I raised a respectful young woman, not a dirty whore,” he raises his head.

You mean your wife raised a respectful young woman, Harry thinks.

Stefano nods his head.

“Very well. We can turn her birthday into the engagement party two months from now, allow them to meet and that gives us time to plan the wedding and discuss further arrangements.”

Giovanni nods. “Three years. When she’s 21, she may be wed.”

Harry sits back in his seat, cocky grin on his lips and he’s eager to get a look at his fiancé. He watches as his father and Giovanni reach across the table, their hands meeting in a firm shake and just like that, it’s sealed.

Y/N Saccaro will be his wife.

//

okkk so this is just the prologue, a little warmer up for you guys as the next parts of this series are something like 20k words long each! next part is scheduled for next week! please please leave some feedback on this series, it truly means so much to hear what you guys think!

[neptunes-sol-angel]

What is your healing era giving? Pick the pile(s) that you're drawn to the most then scroll down for their corresponding message.

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Pile One

You’re shocking people with the ways that you are healing yourself. What they see as they witness your transformation, is the walking embodiment of a high priestess, the keeper of knowledge and a vessel of magnificent secrets. Who you are, in this healing era that you are in, is an enigma that won’t be locked away or censored. The way that you’re healing is spiritually ancestral. You possess the kind of wisdom that isn’t gained from age, it’s inherited. You’re a generational curse breaker, someone in your bloodline who finally recognizes a poisonous pattern in your family with the strength to be the one to not consume it. You’re observant, you’re emotionally intelligent, and you have a mind of your own even when growing up in an environment that was meant to control you, this era is making you embrace the thorns in your roses. You’re becoming the modern-day Joan of Arc by having more self-conviction even when being outnumbered by people trying to convince you out of what you know to be true. You’re healing the perception of purity and time in not just yourself but others too. If you grew up sheltered with a family relative that infantilized you with malicious intent to keep you dependent on them, your healing era is helping you break out of those barriers that kept you from making choices to improve your happiness, success, and progression. You’re no longer afraid of getting hurt or “tainted” in this world, you’re living for yourself and what makes you complete. Learning feels like freedom now because fear is no longer your teacher. Don’t feel down about being a late bloomer because it is better to be late than never, there may be people in this pile who approaching their 30s/40s and feel like they haven’t accomplished anything, but your healing era is reminding you that it is never too late. People forget that youth is ever flowing, you can’t flourish by remaining stagnant because of how you think you should be to achieve something. Don’t underestimate how massive things can change for you when you believe in how capable success is, as you already are. Your healing era is a correcting history, you won’t be burned at the stake this time, you’re going to be walking through fire by knowing that the secret power is to just keep moving.

Pile two

Immediately, I’m hearing “tuh...”. Yeah! This era in your healing journey has been long overdue, but at last bitch, it’s here. Speaking of bitch, you’re finally understanding that you’re THAT one, and you shouldn’t be humble about it anymore. Your enemies knew this before you did though, and of course, they had to attempt to knock you down a peg to make themselves feel better. This goes beyond people simply trying to make it seem like you’re not attractive when you are or people noticing your light but pretending not to see you until they get the validation from other people to do so. Your healing era is very much like this video I saw where people are like “it ain’t that deep” and this girl said, “okay puddle, I’m the ocean”, you’re realizing that yes, you cannot control the people that act crazy towards you because of their insecurities, but you can control and make it known about what you will not allow, and this is about your personal day-to-day interactions with people, like not keeping it in about the things that offend you and constantly giving grace to people who know that they’re exhibiting petty behavior to disrespect you. To stop trying to make “IDGAF” wars happen when you know that you actually do care about things, and it’s okay to do that regardless of what society thinks is cool nowadays. Your healing era consists of a makeover in love by no longer settling for shallow relationships or the utter thought of a situationship when you know that you want to be romanced and catered to like a deity. You’re bulldozing so much of who or what isn’t supportive for what you need as a person, and you aren’t afraid to do it because you now know your worth and that you have the tools to build everything over and this time in your image. Your social circle is improving, your experiences in loving others and being loved is improving, finances improving, and your skin might even be improving because this entire era of your healing is like one huge detox, you’re clearing out the toxicity out of your inner world. The words that debilitate your self-esteem, the people that say you can’t do something like starting your own business or going for that one opportunity that may get you to that amazing breakthrough, negative people and habits that make you believe the worst about yourself or that your life won’t get any better. Your healing era is about your life becoming the royal throne made to match the royal person such as yourself.

Pile Three

“You have a natural allegiance to losers and it’s unlike you”. Your healing era has a lot to do with removing yourself from situations that put you out of character. You’re moving towards more peaceful times and understanding how valuable your own energy is with an elevated fondness for spending time with yourself. You’re going to experience the kind of solitude that isn’t a punishment, but a strange feeling that may take some time to adjust to but at the same time, it’s familiar. Your healing era is about returning to normal and unlearning from the experiences that have left swords in your back. Maybe you grew up around “love”, your family and upbringing didn’t have to be perfect, but there was this innocence that you had before being out in the real world, this can look like experiencing emotionally unavailable people with communication issues and situations that have desensitized you. You could be questioning yourself about the people that are currently making you feel out of place right now, wondering what’s keeping you in these spaces that make you feel deprived of something or this paradox of still feeling empty and alone in a room filled with people. You’re healing from these effects of experiencing deficits, you don’t have to put up with certain things just to prove yourself to others or to make space for someone who doesn’t deserve to be in your life. How people perceive you in your healing era is someone who is genuinely unbothered and no longer giving your all to a situation that is unrequited. They see you full of life again instead of depleted from always putting yourself below others. They also see you essentially as someone that they can no longer exploit. You could be more private now, so it leaves others curious as to what you’re up to. You’re truly moving in silence because you’re noticing how beneficial it is to protect your intimate and professional life, people can act like they’re concerned about you or like they’re supportive until they see that you are doing better than them or up to something big. You’re focused on yourself, and it shows how much you’re manifesting your goals and even though looks aren’t everything, people are finding you to be majestically beautiful, your peace looks good on you. Keep protecting it.