#i SWEAR they're not all going to be this long!!!!

[mentalhomosexual]

‎‧₊˚✧[𝘚𝘬𝘻 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 ]✧˚₊‧

ᯓ★ Pairing: Straykids x Fem reader

ᯓ★Tags: cumming inside,Minho calls reader a slut, just smut with no plot, they're all horny idk 🤷🏽‍♀️

˖࣪ ⊹𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

Chan could always tell when you were ovulating...imo I feel he would be the kind of boyfriend that would like to keep track of your cycle so he could know when he needs to buy you snacks and spoil you completely rotten BUT when it comes to ovulation that's a different story. He loves to tease you and see how riled up you get, like coming behind you and kissing your neck, knowing how much you love it, he whispers into your ear, pressing his clothed bulge against you but the moment you start to press back and softly moan he pulls away, leaving you hornier than you already were. :'(

Don't worry though, he'll fuck you after. And he's rough. he knows that's how you like it when your ovulating, your face pushed into a pillow as he pulls your hips back to meet his.

"Fuckk..it feels good doesn't it baby?"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘩𝘰⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

He knows that your ovulating but he makes you wait for it, he pretends not to notice your lustfull gazes at him or your lingering touches, he can't help it he just loves to tease you, but he can only deny you so long before he wants you just as bed. He fucks you relentlessly. Face shoved into a pillow with your ass up, you love being fucked dumb by him, wheather you're ovulating or not. Harsh slaps to your ass as he tells you how much of a slut you are. True paradise. 🤌🏽

"Such a slut aren't you? want me to breed your pretty pussy, baby?~"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────

He secretly loves it. You get so worked up just seeing his muscles. he makes sure to wear sleeveless shirts and tank tops around you just to see you fight back demons, he lets you do whatever you want because he knows how rapid you become during ovulation, he lays back with an arm behind his head as you ride him. He tells you how beautiful you are ontop of him and you swear you see stars...maybe one baby wouldn't hurt ? 🤩

"so pretty baby—fuck, you feel so good"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Of course, Hyunjin would give you whatever you wanted during ovulation. He secretly likes it too, 🤫. He's hitting it from the back, your fucked out moans filling the room, your turn your head back and start mumbling words.

"What's the matter baby? Talk to me" he grins as he sees your face, your practically drooling on yourself.

"Mmm...take the condom off...wanna feel all of you~" you whine, He grins at your request, he does as he's told before immediately sliding back inside you, your eyes rolling back at his quickening pace, the tip of his cock kissing all your sweet spots. This was a surprise to Hyunjin because you're usually so on top of using protection and judging by the way you're rolling back to meet his thrust, moaning and whining like a baby and telling him to fuck you raw...oh you're definitely ovulating, it turns him on seeing you so desperate for his cum like this.

"Such a nasty girl, huh? Wanting me to fuck you raw"

He says lowly as he leans down and kisses your neck, You nod as you push back against him more.

"Oh my goddd...fuck I'm gonna cum, baby please~" You whine as you bury your face into the pillow.

"Please what?" He teases, leaning up against the shell of your ear, whispering into it knowing full well what you're asking for, He just likes to hear you say it.

˖࣪ ⊹𝘏𝘢𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

This sex addict doesn't even notice a change. You two fuck so often that when you randomly want to go a couple more rounds than usual he thinks nothing of it.

"pleasee~ want you to fuck me againnn" you whine as you claw at his back, you've both cum like 4 times already and he's becoming sensitive but like I said, He doesn't stop. Overstimulating himself in your pussy is like a dream to him, he could do it for the rest of his life and die happy.

"Mm, gonna milk me fucking dry aren't you, baby?~"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

He would be a obvious to it at first, as he cuddles with you he notices that you groan when his head shifts on your chest...he look at you with his cute little concerned face before speaking

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?" He asks softly, you chuckle and Shake your head

"No you're fine, my breast are just a bit sensitive..I'm ovulating" you admit and it all strarts to make sense why you've been so clingy and sensitive lately. His cheeks flush a light pink.

"Oh, I'm sorry, love" he apologizes as he pulls you closer to him, he kinda feels bad for not noticing sooner. He apologizes by burying his face in between those beautiful thighs of yours, eating you out till you cry 💖

"You always taste so good angel, cum on my face one more time, yeah?"

˖࣪ ⊹𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘮𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

He knows something is up when you become extremely clingy. It's something you always tend to do when that time comes around. You sit straddled on his lap as you softly make out, he doesn't question nor deny you when you're like this, who is he to turn down mind-blowing sex? He listens to everything you babble to him as he fucks into you.

"You want me to cum inside of you? I wanna hear you beg for it first~" He chuckles menacingly at your pathetic high pitched pleas.

˖࣪ ⊹𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯⊹ ࣪ ˖

─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

This nasty boy operates as if he can ovulate too. It doesn't matter what you're wearing or how you look, he's gonna get rock hard just looking at you. You're doing laundry, throwing the clothes in the washer and you feel him sneak up behind you, already feeling his bulge press on your lower back.

"I just wanna bend you over this machine and fuck you right now" he whispers into your ear, nibbling on the lobe, you feel him push into you more, you bite your lip as his hands come up to knead your breast, you sigh in pleasure before pushing your ass against him.

"Then why don't you do it then?~" you grin as you turn you head back to meet his gaze, you certainly don't have to tell him twice, he fucks you like there's no tomorrow, like he'll never see you again. It's enough to leave your legs wobbly for a couple days but it's worth it

"Can you feel me deep inside you, baby? Gonna let me cum inside of you?"

© property of mentalhomosexual, do not repost or copy this work. Always ask permission before taking inspiration

[hardly-an-escape]

part two of this, originally inspired by @newtkelly's amazing art 🌹💕

The call is, blessedly, a very simple kitchen fire situation involving an aspiring but inattentive teenage cook and the charred remains of some former tacos. They clear the house, verify that there's no lasting damage and that all the smoke detectors are still working properly, and double-check the wiring on the stove just to be sure nothing drastically malfunctioned. Bobby gives the teen a friendly but compelling lecture on gas stoves and kitchen safety, and the cavalry rolls out.

The rest of the 118, to their credit, makes it a solid five minutes into the drive studiously not looking at Buck before the tension finally breaks.

"So," Chimney says.

"Flowers," Hen says.

"Lots of flowers," Eddie says.

"And a romantic ass speech," Hen says.

"In front of God and the captain and everybody," Chim adds.

"Shut up," Buck says, feeling his cheeks heat up, probably as pink as one of the carnations in the massive bouquet Tommy had given him.

Bobby says nothing, but his eyes in the rearview mirror are knowing and kind.

Tommy appears on the balcony as soon as the doors open and watches the engine back into the bay. His eyes seek out Buck's as soon as he hops off the rig, and Buck feels his heart leap in his chest. He changes out of his uniform in record time, and Tommy is waiting outside the locker room when he's done. He hands over the bouquet and takes Buck's duffel bag without a word, slinging it over one shoulder and wrapping the other arm tight around Buck's waist, and they walk out of the station like that, in lockstep with one another, out to Buck's car under the orangey-red Los Angeles sunset.

Buck is unusually warm when he wakes up on Friday morning.

It takes him half a second to realize why – that the extra heat is coming from the long, firm body wrapped around him from behind; that his bad leg is comfortably resting on a hairy thigh rather than the extra pillow he usually shoves between his knees; that the breath tickling his ear and the thumb stroking idly through his chest hair are both Tommy's.

God, he's missed this. They've barely been out of arm's reach of one another since Tuesday night, aside from when they'd both been scheduled to work, and yet all the time together isn't even a drop in the bucket of how much he's missed Tommy – missed his kisses and his voice and his dry laugh and his eyes and his body. He wriggles back against that body now, so naked and warm, and is rewarded by Tommy's arm tightening around his chest and Tommy's gentle laugh huffing in his ear.

"Oh, you awake now, sleepyhead?" he asks.

"No," Buck lies. "I'm fast asleep. I swear. You can keep watching me like a creep."

"If you insist," Tommy chuckles, dropping soft kisses along Buck's neck. "It's a shame, though. If you were awake I had some ideas for how we could spend the morning."

He grinds against Buck's bare ass, gentle and purposeful, and sucks an earlobe into his mouth, and Buck sighs happily and rolls in Tommy's arms so they're chest to chest and dick to dick, and kisses the laughter out of his mouth.

Some time later, Tommy's head is on Buck's chest and they're catching their breath, sweaty, the sheets kicked down around their ankles.

"Can I ask you something kind of silly?" Buck says.

"Mm. Go for it."

"How'd you know that I would be at work Tuesday evening?"

Tommy snorts. "Sneaked a peek at the citywide duty roster while Melton was in the john. I figured it was my best bet, instead of maybe missing you because you weren't home. And besides…"

"Besides what?"

"I felt like it was important to have an audience."

"An audience?" Buck parrots, confused.

Tommy nods against his chest. "I don't know, maybe that's not the right word. I wanted it to be witnessed. And I wanted you to know that everyone saw me come after you the way you deserved. Is that crazy?"

"I think you watch too many rom coms," Buck says. "But. It was also one of the best things that's ever happened to me, so I'll give you a pass."

"Nailed it." Tommy rubs his five o'clock shadow against Buck's chest and kisses the red patch it leaves behind. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"How come you didn't call, or anything? Afterwards? It felt – I know why I didn't. And maybe I don't have the right to ask. But is there a reason you didn't?"

Buck sighs. "I told myself a long time ago that I wasn't going to chase after people who weren't going to chase after me. And even with what you said that night, it didn't feel like you were chasing me. But I don't know, I kind of regret it now," he says, running a hand reflectively through Tommy's hair. "I missed you so much. I should've told you. Maybe we could've gotten back here quicker."

"I'm so sorry I made you feel that way, Evan," Tommy says quietly.

"It's okay."

"It's really not. But I meant what I said the other day. I'm going to do anything I can to make it better."

"This helps," Buck says, pulling Tommy a fraction of an inch closer.

"Then I'll keep doing this," Tommy says. He slings a leg over Buck's hip and kisses the patch of beard burn again.

Downstairs, three dozen roses overflow from the bowl of Buck's stand mixer – the only thing in his kitchen that had been big enough to hold them all. A couple of them are starting to look a little wilted, but most are still going strong almost three days later. He'll have replace the water today, pull out the spent blooms, rearrange the remaining flowers.

And he has to be at the station in a couple hours, and Tommy's shift starts an hour after that. It's Valentine's Day, but neither of them had bothered to request it off, so they'll have to get up soon; shower and dress and eat something and reenter the world once again.

But that's soon. This is now, in all its naked honesty: warm skin, and warm sheets, and kisses, and kindnesses, and the slightest scent of roses floating up to meet the morning light.

[akawifeyy]

SO AMERICAN | smau (OP81)

description: you might not be australian, but oscar piastri loves you just the same.

tropes: yapper x listener, he falls first and harder, celebrity actress!fem!reader (you’re the daughter of matt damon, please tell me you all know who he is)

face claim: addison rae

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing

| note: sorry for the long wait between posts, i'm not feeling the best right now and i've also had a jam-packed schedule. but anyways! here you go! this is based on ♪ so american / olivia rodrigo, which is one of my fave songs of all time :)

@ f1gossip: The daughter of Matt Damon, Y/N, is reportedly dating McLaren's F1 driver, Oscar Piastri. Thoughts?

tagged: @ f1, @ f1yaps, @ f1talk

comments (5862):

@ user1: she's so pretty omg 😭

-> @ user2: First thought was, "She's everything, and he's just Ken." Y/N is absolutely gorgeous.

@ user3: even though i've been an oscar girlie since day 1, i support this. if this is real, i wish them the best of luck <3

@ f1yaps: Has a hot new WAG entered the villa? Only time will tell

@ yourusername: howdy, cota 🤠 had a great time

tagged: @ f1, @ mattdamon, @ yourbffusername

@ user4: prettiest cowgirl there is 🤎

@ oscarpiastri: It was nice meeting you!

-> @ yourusername: ditto! hoping to buy tickets for las vegas :)

@ user5: Why is Oscar lowkey lurking in the comments... 🤨

-> @ user6: read @ f1gossip's most recent post

@ yn.updates: during an interview for her upcoming movie, "riptide", y/n was asked about the gossip concerning her and mclaren f1 driver oscar piastri. with a big smile, she replied, "he seems like a great guy, but let's be for real. i've met him one time. let's not get too far ahead, please!"

tagged: @ yourusername, @ oscarpiastri, @ f1, & 2 more

comments (1257):

@ user7: That dress is stunning 😩

@ user8: they'd be cute together as a couple ngl. i'd love to see more of them

-> @ user8: but, they deserve their privacy

@ user9: ynoscar is adorable ❤️❤️

Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):

@ yourusername: las vegas was a hit! congrats to the papaya boys, p2 and p3

tagged: @ f1, @ mclaren, @ oscarpiastri, @ landonorris

comments (9374):

@ yourbffusername: super cool! miss you xoxo

-> @ yourusername: miss you too, i'll be back home soon 💗

@ user10: Twinklaren tagged!!

@ oscarpiastri: Thanks for coming!

-> @ yourusername: of course, i wouldn't miss it for the world 😁

comments (539):

@ user5: Have any of you seen Oscar's most recent Insta story?

-> @ user11: the way i ran to check and SCREAMED 😳

-> @ user5: IK, they are so evil for soft-launching, they're torturing us. *Sobs*

Oscar's Instagram Story:

comments (7521):

@ yourusername: might not be good at legos but it was still fun being with you!

@ user12: ADORABLE 🥰

@ user8: how does it feel to live my dream 😞

Press Conference Interview Excerpt with Oscar (2025):

Interviewer: Congratulations on your podium in Qatar, Oscar! We noticed a special someone was missing, would you like to tell us more about them?

Oscar (smiling): If the special someone is Y/N Damon, you wouldn't be wrong. She means a lot to me, and I'm very lucky to be with her. Anyways, she sadly wasn't able to make it because she is back in America for the time being. She's about to have her red carpet debut for her movie, "Riptide"! I saw a few clips from it and she does a flawless job.

Interviewer: Is this an acknowledgement of the relationship between the two of you?

Oscar: Yeah.

Interviewer: How long have the two of you been together?

Oscar: A few weeks after COTA.

Interviewer: Well, best of luck to the new couple!

Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):

@ oscarpiastri: What a way to end 2025! See you all next year

tagged: @ landonorris, @ f1, @ mclaren, @ yourusername

comments (4898):

@ user13: ahhh omg y/n mention!! 🥹

-> @ user14: They're so cute

-> @ user9: best couple in a long time

@ landonorris: Always glad to be with you, mate

-> @ oscarpiastri: 2026 three-peat is on its way!

@ yourusername: so so proud of you 🥳

-> @ oscarpiastri: Thank you, I'm proud of you too. Can't wait to be with you again 😘

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[green4allseasons]

The lights to the townhome are mostly out… save for the single lamp in the window. And Jason’s heart warms at the shallow glow because that means somehow he’d known that Jason would be returning tonight. 

Somehow he always knows.

Jason walks the motorbike the final block to the house. The thing is loud, which he usually enjoys. But tonight… he doesn’t want to run the risk of waking any sleeping occupants. So instead, he quietly stashes the bike beside the garage and hoofs it to the front door, pulling out a key that had been made specifically for him. 

He loves the way the townhouse welcomes him home. How, although it belongs to someone else on paper, as soon as he steps through the door it greets him as if he's always belonged there too. 

On the crooked end table with a single glowing lamp, there's a stack of books that he recently finished reading from the library, all long overdue. And his jackets... those are all neatly hanging from the coat hanger while another's lay stale and untouched in an ever-growing heap on the floor. 

Even the fridge is marked with his presence, occupied with tupperware full of stir fry. His recipe... though it had been made by someone else in his absence. 

And technically, he could go to his room. Tim had made sure that he knew that it always belonged to him. Even from the very beginning. 

So at first Jason considers it.  The door’s wide open and waiting for him. And it’s what he usually does when he gets into town late; they’re considerate of each other’s sleep schedule like that. 

But... it’s Valentine's Day. Or it was Valentine's Day, he thinks, looking down at his watch and seeing the short hand point at the 2:00. And while Jason’s not a sap for all that capitalist bullshit, he finds himself teetering on his feet in front of his doorway, side-eyeing his bed that looks so cold and lonely in the dark.

“Fuck it,” he decides, turning on his heels and striding into the room across from his. Timmy might get a little pissy about being woken up but he’d just have to live with it for one night. It’s Valentine's Day, or was… and god dammit if Jason isn't feeling a little sentimental. Sue him.

He sounds a lot tougher in his mind, but his actions tell a different story as he slowly nudges the door open, cringing at the resulting creak of old hinges. Had it always been so loud?

Of course, Tim startles, his eyes blearily opening, the pupils constricting at the sudden light. “Jay?” he asks, “Everything okay?”

Jason feels instantly bad. Like he said, they never do this, not unless something’s wrong. So Tim’s instant concern isn’t totally baseless. Usually they give each other a day to adjust to the timezones and whatnot before inexplicably finding themselves in each other’s beds. Intertwined for however long they're both in town… which isn’t as often as either of them would like. 

“Yeah, all good, just…” Jason pauses, a little embarrassed to say the words out loud. He was really counting on Tim being asleep. And goddammit, the little smile that crawls across Tim’s face makes him want to bury his head in a hole. 

“I didn’t take you for a Valentine’s sort of guy,” Tim teases, that little sleepy smirk so fucking annoying. And yet, Jason feels himself unraveling in ways that he can’t put words to.

He swears, “...Just scoot over, will you?”

Tim lets out a small laugh but opens the covers anyway. Jason’d already showered at his new safehouse so he doesn’t feel bad as he crawls into the sheets. But he doesn’t think Tim would mind either way. 

Tim doesn’t turn around, preferring to face Jason as he lays his head back down. They could only manage to fit a twin mattress in the room so it forces them to shift close. Jason sure as hell doesn’t care as their foreheads touch on their shared pillow. 

And god, if Jason doesn’t feel like a man with his whole world in his hands. Tim’s warmth so all encompassing that slowly he feels the tension in his muscles lessen, unwinding with every breath that flutters against his cheek. Tim’s breath is still minty from brushing, giving away that he’d probably stayed up too late… again.

Sighing, Jason settles his hand on Tim’s cheek, adoring the contrasting sensations of the impossibly soft skin under Tim’s eyes and the rough stubble over his jawline. Just another indicator that he’d been working too hard. 

Ah well, it just means that Jason needs to stay longer this time. 

Jason’s fingers rest against Tim’s jawline before he grips gently, using the leverage to press their foreheads together.

“I missed you,” he breathes, holding back so much more that he want’s to say because it’s late, and Tim’s tired, and he doesn’t get enough sleep these days as is. 

And really? All that Jason wants to say has been said before and can be said again once morning comes.

Jason plans to spend his whole life saying it. A whole life proving how it’s true. 

[hunters-vigil]

The Archon's Baby - Chapter 21 - The War is Won

First Chapter Previous Chapter

Warnings: pregnant!reader, allusions to a panic attack, swearing, mentions of avoided death (Chuychu), Mavuika's impending death, talks of amputation injury and prosthetics, death of an NPC, inaccurate medical talk.

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.

"Little one, they won… they won, they beat the abyss!" Chuychu nudged you, wincing as she tried to move over to hold you, your hands gently holding her arms, "little one, you need to breathe, crap, breathe!" Chuychu's hands were cold against your skin, trying to apply her cryo abilities to stabilise you.

"The sky is fake. The sky is fake, Chuychu! I thought it was just a rumour… if the sky is fake, what outside the sky are 'they' trying to hide?" you whispered, burying your face in Chuychu's neck to block out your panic.

"Hey, we're okay… ish… as okay as we can be." Chuychu looked down at her leg, a darkness shadowing over her face as regret tried to bubble in her stomach. If she hadn't gotten distracted, if she had seen it about to land near you all… she'd still have her foot, her ability to walk. But… you wouldn't have survived if she hadn't reacted…

"How long do you think it will take for someone to come find us?" you asked after a while, shuffling on your bum over to peek your head out of the cave, giving Chuychu a warning glare to stay put. The iktomisaurs stared at you as you looked out, one shuffling over to try keep you warm with their feathers, while another went closer to Chuychu.

"Depends on how long Ororon takes, but Chasca won't wait around for anyone to help her." Chuychu shrugged, raising an eyebrow as she eyed the iktomisaur trying to rest near her, "why?"

"I have to use the bathroom."

"Seriously?" Chuychu groaned as you grimaced, nodding and trying to stand up, but your body detested that motion immediately.

"Everyone's probably celebrating before the mourning and the rebuilding… fuck… stay there, stay awake, stay alive I'll be back…" you muttered, shuffling out of the cavern to find somewhere to sort yourself out. You didn't see that an iktomisaur was following you, or that the baby one had woken up, trying to follow after you too.

Chuychu's eyes began to flutter, exhaustion from the events of the war rushing over her. She had to admit, things would have been harder if she hadn't have rested so much, and if she didn't have her vision. The abyssal corrosion probably would have been her downfall…

"Chuychu? Chuychu! Wake up, sleepy head." She heard a voice as she began to stir, a whine escaping her lips as someone played with her braid.

Opening her eyes, her green irises met Chasca's blue ones, a soft but sad smile on her older sister's lips welcoming her as she woke up.

"…Chasca?" Chuychu whispered, reaching out to touch Chasca's face, her fingertips resting on her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin.

She was there, she was alive. Chasca was alive, and so was Chuychu.

"Where's…"

"Citlali has her… they've been whispering to each other for a while now." Chasca explained, scooping Chuychu up in her arms after checking over her wounds. No doubt she would need medical attention, even if her vision had healed you both… but with her foot gone, maybe, Chuychu wanted a prosthetic? Xilonen had already offered her help in building one, with the input of the doctors, but it was Chuychu's choice.

"About what? Our sister having the archon's twins?" Chuychu grumbled, struggling to keep her eyes open, "or how Mavuika's going to die before they're even born?"

"She's what? Chuychu, now is not the time to go back to sleep!" Chasca huffed, but her little sister was fast asleep in her arms. Too much elemental energy used at once, along with the stress of the war taking a hit at her.

"We should get these two to the stadium. Mavuika's not going to want to leave this one alone once she sees her- you can lean on me, you know? It's not like I'm made of glass!" Citlali grumbled as she helped you walk, "Ororon, get over here and help!"

"Sorry granny!" Ororon shouted, hurrying over to move to your other side to help, having been distracted by the saurians who had been guarding you two.

///

Chuychu slept the entire way back to the stadium, Chasca carrying her in silence. Meanwhile, you were in a daze, listening to Ororon and Citlali talk, or more Citlali talk, and Ororon apologise. They eventually went quiet however, as a pair of strong arms picked you up, carrying you the rest of the way.

Her biker suit was smooth against your skin, your eyes fluttering open to take in her fiery hair, her sun-shaped earrings, her sunshine eyes… "Mavuika…"

"Where is Mayahuel?" Mavuika asked, only to receive a shake of the head. Mayahuel didn't make it. "We need doctors, and an obstetrician here, now."

"Right away, Archon." was all you heard, keeping your gaze on Mavuika as she nuzzled her face into your cheek.

"I thought you were dead…" her voice broke, "I thought I'd lost you, all three of you."

"We're okay… Chuychu's vision healed us. She overdid it with her injuries, but the ode brought her back, just in time." Raising your hand to touch Mavuika's face, your archon's face melted into a loving expression, one that only those closest to you had seen when she looked at you.

"Still… I need you and Chuychu given full check-ups, and the twins too." Mavuika pressed her lips to your forehead, gently resting you down on the bed, while Chasca did the same with Chuychu, a bit away, as everyone aimed to give their archon and her love their privacy.

"Ororon, where did you get that baby iktomisaur?" Citlali asked, folding her arms as the baby saurian squealed, jumping out of Ororon's arms to try get to you.

"Oh, it's you! You followed us here? But you were with those adult iktomisaurs?" You tried to reach out to the baby, who was on the floor, jumping up to try reach you too. Mavuika raised an eyebrow, scooping up the iktomisaur who tensed up in the archon's arms, but let out a chirp as she was deposited on the bed next to you.

"Do I ask?" Mavuika raised an eyebrow, looking to your sisters, but Chuychu was being looked over by a doctor for her injuries, especially with her blood loss… she might need a transfusion, but the doctors would sort that out.

"Oh, you seem to be her favourite." Ororon realised, before Citlali ushered him away, saying they'd see you soon, but they needed to return to the Masters of the Night-Wind to clean up any remaining abyssal forces.

"Well, it's a good thing I have some saurian treats back at the Speaker's Chamber then, isn't it?" Mavuika chuckled, one hand cupping your cheek, while the other was offered to the baby saurian, who stared at her hand before allowing Mavuika to pet her.

"Archon, you called for an obstetrician?" someone walked over, pulling around the make-shift curtains to cover the space.

"Yes. Mayahuel was handling our case, due to the circumstances…" Mavuika explained, stroking your cheek as you zoned out, only giving basic answers until you were given an ultrasound. Blood pressure, heartrate, only Mavuika processed all of it, making a mental note that the abyss would pay for the stress it had caused you. If Chuychu hadn't been trying to actively heal you both constantly…

Your eyes shifted into focus as you looked at the screen, listening to the heartbeats carefully as you waited.

"Strong heartbeats, measuring at fifteen weeks… your twins are doing well, Archon."

Mavuika raised an eyebrow, electing to ignore how the update was directed at her, instead choosing to watch the relief wash over your face, how your body relaxed and a tired smile appeared. (You definitely wanted a second opinion though, the lack of details surrounding your twins bugging you much later when you returned from your dazed state).

Eventually, the obstetrician left, having deemed you a course of treatment involving bed rest, healthy foods, and multiple other things that Mavuika kept a note of, while you hid your glassy eyes in the baby iktomisaur's fur.

"My love?" Mavuika whispered, trying to coax you into talking, a hand hovering over your exposed bump, hesitant to touch.

"Don't just leave… when it comes to your sacrifice, please come and say goodbye first. I don't know what I'd do if I woke up and found out you were gone. Please, Mavuika…" you reached out, bringing her hand to rest, while your other hand gently petted the baby saurian who stared down at you with worried eyes.

"Of course. I could never just… I will announce to everyone when the Traveller and I depart for the final battle against the abyss. I will find you, I promise." Mavuika nodded, schooling her expression while you hid yours. Hiding how your heart fluttered at the mention of the Traveller going with Mavuika. After what Citlali said, maybe Mavuika's fate could be changed for the better…

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

I was inspired to write this scene in dialogue script format. The Sea Grunk Twins maybe feel a bit too open and being able to communicate, especially Stan. But let's assume it's been several months since Weirdmageddon and they've actually been working with therapists.

Plus being faced with their counterparts struggling over several days maybe got them talking and reflecting some more. Witnessing the obvious emotional constipation from the outside is painful. The obvious differences about their lifes help, too. And it's not like they talk much about their own issues.

--

Carla: Please tell me it won't take these two knuckleheads almost 30 years being able to ask for hugs!

Sea Grunk Stanley: Carla, we're one of the worst versions you could ask for help about this.

Sea Grunk Stanford: If only because an accident led me to 30 years being lost in the multiverse until Lee saved me. Not to mention the extreme circumstances that led to our reconciliation.

SG Stanley: Your Standford and Stanley are way ahead us in several ways compared to when us old coots met again. Both times.

SG Stanford: I assume that our histories were identical until a certain point, that being when- A witch you said? When the witch cursed the younger Stanley. But even if you discount that detail-

SG Stanley: Moses, I wish I could.

SG Stanford: Hush, we all know you're not really bothered by that. Um, going back. Our respective lifes have diverged immensely from each other. We just don't know what will happen or what they need because we can't compare the two situations.

We're still playing catch-up with dealing with our own trauma, lacking communication, and having been separated for that long without almost anybody else supporting us.

SG Stanley: And you know some of the fucked up stuff around the history that probably's the same.

Carla: I made some guesses about the things the twins let slip about their childhood and adolescence. And their twenties.

SG Stanley: It was... probably even worse than you already heard. It makes that sappy intimacy and being vulnerable stuff even more terrifying. The two need to relearn each other. Need to unlearn some deep-rooted shit rotting away in their minds.

SG Stanford: A lot of it was planted there by other people. Which doesn't change that it's unfortunately tangled with their bond and feelings about each other on top of everything else. We would know.

SG Stanley: But! Not all of it is bad!

SG Stanford: Lee's right. You said that they're way ahead of us in some ways, compared to us when we were their age.

SG Stanley: Actually talking with and listening to each other. *beat* Well, some listening, and some telling each other important things.

SG Stanford: Having an actual support system outside of their immediate family, with healthy relationships. More than one person who can comfort them or call them out on their shit. Who they can rely on, and who can rely on them.

SG Stanley: I repeat, I'll deny having said any of this sappy stuff later if asked.

Carla + SG Stanford: But we won't let you forget! :)

SG Stanley: Shut up, I'm denying. So. Having real friends and family-who-are-also-friends has helped us the most. There, I said it. And now I'm denying I said it.

SG Stanford: That, and therapy. But yes. Not being on our own anymore has made it possible even getting to this point.

Carla: So you're saying that they need time to figure it out, but that they will eventually. *sigh*

SG Stanford: Well, not only that. I'm actually worried about a trend you've mentioned. They're the most comfortable hugging each other and showing affectionate behavior when the other was hurt or in danger?

SG Stanley: I swear, if they start any bad habits over that, I'm going to tie them together and sit on them until they've talked things out. Properly!

Carla:

SG Stanley:

SG Stanford:

SG Stanley:

Carla:

SG Stanford: Carla.

SG Stanley: I'm getting the rope-

Carla: Don't you dare!

[It's about the Cat Stan Twins having the same desire (protect their brother) and same issue (if I can't even protect him, what worth am I? / he's more important than me / self-worth) putting them into conflict.]

This is so good. And Carla's the perfect person for them to talk to about it.

Because their lives are so different, they can't know for sure how the cat Stan's will turn out. We know they'll figure out how to talk communicate with each other, but at this point in time that's hard to see. Especially since their friends have to help them along and watch all their painful attempts.

I love this. Acknowledging how they can't know for sure, but pointing out how well the younger twins are doing compared to where they were at at that age. Then SG Stan wanting to hurry the process along lol.

[fisheito]

this is what i was cookin up while on nu:vacation [avoiding event spoilers] my dream.....my hopes....... EVERYONE PUT ON THE PRINCESS GOWN🗡

[alexjcrowley]

Guys do not fucking lie to me is Agatha All Along a good show or does it only have lesbians

[holocene-sims]

just a guy and his snowpal ⛄❄️

[knizuu]

Oh yea, the dream

[daydream-comet]

So....hey beyblade fandom(if it exists)! 👋

[cathymee]

maybe it's to maintain a sense of tension & turmoil that would eventually reach an explosive peak, a sense of tug-of-war, a back-and-forth to hammer home the ideals they want to deliver and for the viewers to chew on, but although these arguments regarding hiroshi & his stance as a man torn between his loyalty for his country & the loyalty for his Filipino friends and lover is of course important, how they write these scenes & the points they present from this week alone is getting too repetitive...? literally the argument scenes from last night & tonight between adelina & hiroshi is basically the same; the ideas were the same, the dynamics were the same: the aggressive, radical adelina, bristling rage and fear over the injustices she's seen thus far, and the cautious, inspiriting hiroshi, all hopefulness and reassurance one moment as a lover, defensiveness and sternness as a japanese soldier in another. this debate will be ever-present ofc, it is one of the series' biggest conflicts, but it is unfortunately so easy to tell when it is a.) being pulled up as a main topic to move the plot along / be a necessary conflict for character development/introspection / be the conflict to deliver the morals & messages the writers want to send to their viewers, or b.) when it is being pulled up only for the drama and filler to pass the time. like watching the characters sit down to argue for 10 minutes, do other things for the plot for 2 minutes, then sit down again to argue for the next 20 minutes. lol.

[singsweetmelodies]

AKA: angst, miscommunication and a/b/o, feat. brief/mentioned maxierre with piarles endgame (+ implied maxiel.) happy birthday @boxboxbrioche my love

"Hello, Charles," Max smiles when Charles runs into him (literally) in the Budapest paddock on Thursday. He's wearing the same Red Bull team shirt and jeans as ever, naturally, but something about him looks unusually relaxed and content. Sated, even.

Probably because he's been winning practically every race this season, Charles thinks. That's enough reason for anyone to be looking relaxed and content.

Still, when he steps in a little closer to fist-bump Max's proffered hand, he can't help but notice it. Max's scent is... more than just content. He smells like he's only just come out of heat, and whoever was taking care of him did a very good job of it. He doesn't smell like sex, precisely, but he smells like what Charles would imagine afterglow would, if it had a scent. Golden and lazy and sated.

Oh, he's got blockers on, of course, but Charles has always been blessed (or cursed, depending how you look at it) with a very good nose. So. He knows immediately.

Some too-perceptive instinct is telling him that the timing of this heat has something to do with Daniel's return to racing this weekend. Almost like Max... wanted to get his heat over with before he saw Daniel again?

...That's a big stretch, of course, and Charles would never dare say it out loud. (Except to Pierre, maybe, because Pierre loves theorising about the latest paddock gossip just as much as Charles does.)

So he just smiles politely at Max, and says "Hello" back, and wishes for Pierre to appear out of some corner of the paddock somewhere. It isn't that Charles hates Max, or whatever the media likes to spin, but it's also true that Max isn't Charles' most favourite person in the paddock. (Obviously, that honour goes to Pierre.)

No, Charles' and Max's relationship is simply that of colleagues - good enough, if a little bland.

Which is why Charles is not expecting it at all when Max leans a little closer with something that looks almost like a conspiratorial grin. Charles has no idea what Max might want to be conspiratorial about with him - it's not as though he's leaving Ferrari anytime soon, despite what everyone likes to speculate.

Surprisingly, what Max says to him is not racing or incident-related at all. "Do you know where Pierre is?" he asks, as though Charles is the most reliable source of the Alpine driver's whereabouts. (Charles shouldn't be, but he's very flattered.) "I still need to thank him."

"Thank him?" Charles echoes, a little puzzled. "For what?"

And then Max says the one thing that blows apart Charles' world and turns his day upside-down immediately. "For agreeing to spend my heat with me so last-minute."

He says it so casually, too, and Charles...

Well. Charles knows that many of the other unbonded omegas on the grid like to spend their heats with other drivers. This might seem contradictory at first, but the thing is - while they might not necessarily trust each other on track, you can always rely on the fact that another driver, at least, won't reveal details of that hook-up to the press anymore than you will. Most of the alpha drivers on the current grid are decent enough people off-track that you can trust you'd be taken good care of, too.

It's something that Charles has done himself, too, once or twice - mostly with Alex, who is always incredibly kind about it, and makes sure Charles is comfortable and well-hydrated afterwards.

But mostly, Charles spends his heats alone. He schedules them carefully so they won't interfere with races, and then he bears them on his own, teeth gritted as he works himself open over and over again and clings to whatever article of Pierre's clothing he can find nearby.

It's never good enough, never, but Charles has never really wanted another alpha. He only goes to Alex if his body genuinely cannot go without it anymore, and then it's purely a case of friend helping out a friend.

So, really, Charles has no reason to be this shocked that Max apparently spent his most recent heat with Pierre. The two of them are friends, aren't they? Much better than Charles and Max have ever pretended to be. There's no reason why they wouldn't spend a heat together, really.

Except...

Charles grits his teeth, and it's only years of media training that enables him to still pass it off as a smile. "He did?" he asks, tightly.

Max laughs, still happily unaware that he's taken Charles' day and shattered it like a glass breaking into unrecognisable shards. "Yes," he confirms, and then he bumps Charles' shoulder, almost unbearably conspiratorial again. "You, of course, would know why I now need to thank him."

No amount of media training in the world could have helped Charles keep up his smile in response to that. Max notices - how could he not - and his own smile falls. "You two have not...?" His voice rises up in the end, like he almost can't believe he even has to ask the question.

Charles tastes something sour in his mouth, and by the way Max flinches back, he's sure it must be all over his scent as well, blockers be damned. "No," is all Charles says, brusquely.

Max opens and closes his mouth for a moment, and then he reaches for Charles' shoulder. He hesitates, though, hand hovering awkwardly in the space between them. "I'm sorry," he says, and it sounds sincere. "For assuming. The two of you are so..." He makes a face. "You are good friends, so I thought if he would do it for me, he would of course do it for you too."

"No," Charles says again, and the word tastes acrid in his mouth. "We have never."

Not for lack of trying, Charles thinks bitterly, and then he forces himself to think of something else. Some excuse that Max will accept.

Fortunately, a little gaggle of people in bright Ferrari red are passing by, and Charles latches onto them with almost too much relief. "Ah, my team," he says, pointing. "I need to go."

It's stupidly obvious, as excuses go, but Max has the grace not to mention it. He just watches Charles go, biting his lip.

Charles wants to hate him. He wants to hate him more than anything else - for having a race-winning car, and a team that supports him properly, and championships, but more importantly than any of that, Charles wants to hate him for having Pierre.

It's not that Charles thinks Max is actually in love with Pierre, or even that they're courting. No, it was clearly just a case of friend-helping-out-friend. But even that is...

Unbearable. It is unbearable, because Charles hasn't had even that much.

Charles had only asked once, and only because he'd been stupid with pre-heat already and not thinking straight. Pierre's long, long silence before he'd said, very gently, "Charles... I don't think that's a good idea" had told him all he'd needed to know, anyway.

After that heat, though, Pierre had called Charles and made sure he was okay, and that he knew it wasn't personal, Pierre just didn't think it was a good idea to get that involved with another driver. Especially one who's also a friend.

Charles had accepted it at the time, and he's never had any reason to think that Pierre has changed his mind in any way.

Except now here Pierre is, apparently spending heats with Max fucking Verstappen, of all people. And, really. Out of everyone on the grid - every goddamn omega - it had to be Max, didn't it?

A part of Charles wants to fall to the floor in devastation, wants to tear at his hair and shake and cry to anyone who will listen, why doesn't he want me, why doesn't he want me?

But Charles remains standing, because even more than he's heartbroken, he's furious.

Pierre did not help Max through his heat because they're in love, or because they're courting. So, he must have done it as a favour to a friend.

Then why the hell would he not do the same for Charles?

Charles also asked him as a favour to a friend (and yes, maybe Charles wanted more, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask for that. He'd just asked for a favour, the way every unbonded omega on the goddamned grid asks their alpha friends for favours every once in a while.)

Pierre had said no, and that he doesn't do that. But he'd forgotten to mention the part where he apparently does do that.

If he were here, Charles might slap him clean through the face. It's not an urge he's often had when it comes to Pierre (or ever, really) but today...

Today. It's just. What the hell does Max have that he doesn't? Max and Pierre are friends? Charles and Pierre are better friends. Max is an omega? So is Charles, and he's better at that, too.

It's obviously not even about looks! Because Charles doesn't want to be rude, but he is definitely better-looking than Max. It's just a fact, as true as "the grass is green" or "Charles is Monégasque" or "Charles is in love with Pierre."

No. Fuck that. None of this makes sense.

If Pierre is willing to spend a heat with Max, then there's no reason why he can't help Charles through one, too. It's not like Charles is asking Pierre to love him back - no, he's long since made his peace with the fact that that, at least, is impossible.

Charles has always wanted too much, though, and if he sees even the faintest chance of getting what he wants, even if it is just in the form of a favour to a friend -- well. He will never not go for the gap.

So Charles waits, increasingly impatient, for his media and team obligations to be done for the day. As soon as they are, he heads for Alpine, because there is no way Pierre will have left already - he is far too dedicated to them, staying behind extra hours to learn as many names as he can and give as much feedback as possible and help with everything that needs helping.

Right, because isn't Pierre just so incredibly helpful. Normally, this would make Charles smile, fond - but today, it makes him want to snarl.

Helpful, yes. Except to him, apparently.

No. Charles will not accept that.

Various team members glance up when Charles storms into the Alpine hospitality, freezing with coffees half-way to their lips and tracking him like the spectators to a tennis match as he storms across their building and towards the driver's rooms. One particularly brave soul ventures an "Er..." but Charles is already across the room before he's even finished saying it.

Charles knows the way to Pierre's driver's room as easily as he knows the way to his own (incidentally, it's on the same side of the building) and it's mere seconds later that he's bursting through the door of Pierre's driver's room.

Pierre freezes when the door slams open, mouth caught in a comically surprised expression, but it relaxes quickly into a fond (if still somewhat surprised) smile. "Charlito!" he says, standing up and reaching a hand in Charles' general direction. "This is a nice surprise."

But Charles is not in any mood for pleasantries. "Did you spend a heat with Max," he asks, but it's not really a question as much as it is an accusation, pointed and sharp.

Pierre freezes again, the smile slowly dropping off his face. His scent goes bitter with unpleasant surprise. "I -"

"If you lie to me, I am going to slap you," Charles says, injecting the words with just enough of a snarl that Pierre will know he's not messing around.

Pierre's expression goes from shocked to hurt to angry almost faster than Charles can process. "I wasn't going to lie to you, Charlo. I would never. Not with you."

He sounds sincere enough about it that Charles almost feels guilty, but then Pierre adds, "He's just a friend who needed a favour" and Charles is right back to furious.

"I was a friend, and I needed a favour," Charles says bitingly. He doesn't have to say anything more, because he knows Pierre will understand exactly what he means.

Pierre's face shutters, closing off completely. Even his scent goes blank, like Pierre is deliberately shutting off every part of himself. "That's different."

"How?" Charles hisses at him, and Pierre obviously wasn't expecting the vehemence of it, because he stumbles a step back. "How the hell is it different, huh?"

Pierre's expression does something complicated, and he makes a rough noise, low in the back of his throat. "It just is," he says, and refuses to elaborate.

Charles is livid. "It just is?!" he explodes. "Tell me how it just is, Pierrot, because I sure as fuck don't get it. I am your friend - non, I am your best friend - but when I ask for this favour, you say no. Then when it is Max, you say yes?"

"It's different," Pierre says again, sharply, as though sharpness alone will make Charles drop the subject.

He really doesn't know Charles if he thinks that will work. "It is not different. Not at all. What, unless you are trying to say that you don't want me?"

"Of course I-" Pierre starts, then cuts himself off with a groan, dragging a hand down his face. "I don't want to do this with you, Charles."

"Well, I want to do this with you," Charles retorts, unfazed and as fuming as ever. "What is it, huh, Pierre? You prefer Max over me?"

"Of course not," Pierre says, and he has the audacity to sound almost offended.

"But you must, if you fucked him and not me," Charles snaps. He's not entirely sure what he's trying to accomplish here, but he knows - he knows that he's furious, and Pierre is being a fucking asshole, and he needs Pierre to admit that much. At least.

Pierre, however, seems determined to continue being a stubborn asshole. "It wasn't like that," he insists, and Charles sees red.

"It's exactly like that! I asked you to fuck me, to help me through my heat, and you said no because you do not want me."

And that, somehow, is the last straw.

"Shut up, Charles," Pierre growls - actually growls - at him. "Just, shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, I don't?" Charles snaps right back, goading. "Why don't you tell me, then?"

Pierre snarls again, guttural and furious, and Charles knows that he should be terrified. But right now, he's far too furious to care.

"Tell me," Charles goads again, because he knows that nothing will ever compel Pierre as much as a challenge will.

Pierre is breathing hard, his fists clenched, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. "You think you know what happened with Max, huh?" he asks, and Charles has never heard him sound like that. Despite himself, it sends a thrill through Charles' whole body. "You think you know what I want and don't want?"

Charles lets his belligerent silence do the talking for him, and Pierre's eyes flash. "Well, do you know that none of it is true? Do you know that none of the rumours of me with all those omegas are true?"

"What do you--" Charles begins, but Pierre cuts him off with a single hand held up, raised as sharply as a slap.

"Do you know, Charlito," he says, almost viciously, "that I've never been able to date any other omega for longer than a few months because I was always comparing them to you?"

Charles jolts where he stands, all the breath wrenched from him. "What--"

But Pierre doesn't give him a moment to process that. "Do you know that I only agreed to spend this heat with Max because he was desperate and out of options?"

"Do you know," Pierre continues, dangerously soft, "that I had to think of you just to be able to come at all?" He stalks a single step closer to Charles. "Do you know that I had to pretend it was you all the time just so that my knot wouldn't go down?" Another step, and Charles is shaking all over, but he can't move. Pierre has him pinned down, completely rooted to the spot with his scorching gaze and world-ending words.

"Do you know," Pierre concludes, softest of all, "why I really said I wouldn't spend a heat with you?"

Charles isn't sure how he even manages to form the word. "Why?"

Pierre's eyes are so, so dark as he stops just in front of Charles, raising one hand to ghost just millimetres above Charles' collarbone. "Because," he says, and his voice is rough. "I knew that if I did, Charles, if I fucked you even just once, I wouldn't be able to hold back. I would bite you, then and there, and I would make you mine."

All the while that he's been speaking, Pierre has been tracing his fingers upwards, a slow, slow torturous slide mere centimetres above Charles' skin. Charles can almost feel the heat of his touch, almost but not quite, and when Pierre stops just below Charles' mating gland - Charles whines and shudders forward, the combination of Pierre's hand there and that word mine too much for him to resist.

Pierre's fingers touch the overheated skin of Charles' mating gland, and the world explodes.

Charles' knees buckle, and his head spins, and he has to press his thighs together in a desperate effort to ease the sudden and burning need there. He's wet, he can feel it, leaking slick all over the place just from that one touch.

Pierre jerks his hand back, of course, but even that split-second of contact was enough to destroy Charles perfectly.

Pierre is panting, and he looks about as wrecked as Charles feels. "So do not stand there and tell me that I don't want you, Charles," he says, and his voice shakes - anger or desperation, Charles can't tell. "Not when I have done nothing but want you for as long as I have known how to want."

Charles shudders, the full weight of Pierre's words sinking in on him all at once. As Charles stands there, processing, he watches as the world rearranges itself entirely.

Charles breathes in, and then he breathes out. "Fuck you, Pear," he says, only a little shakily. "No, seriously, fuck you. How obvious do you need me to be? I literally asked you to spend my heat with me!"

For a moment, Pierre looks so indignant that he forgets to be angry. "You asked it as a favour to a friend!" he protests. "I just said, I can't do that! Not if it's you."

"Yeah, well," Charles says waspishly, "I only asked it like that because I thought you would say no otherwise."

And all at once, Pierre's expression transforms as he comes to the same sudden and brilliant realisation Charles just had.

"Charles," he says, shell-shocked. "If you're saying what I think you're saying..."

He glances down at his hands, clenches them tightly into fists again, then looks back up at Charles, his gaze burning. "You have to know, you can't take it back. I'm not going to let you take it back. Not if you mean it."

"God, Pierre, you are so fucking stupid," Charles says, and alright, maybe he is still a little angry about the whole situation, after all. (He thinks he has the right to be, though.) "Why do you think I was so angry that you went for Max?"

When Pierre doesn't say anything immediately, Charles snaps off a sharp step into Pierre's space, flicking his fingers against Pierre's forehead. "Yeah, it's because I wanted you to choose me. Only me."

Pierre's hand comes up, grabbing Charles' wrist in a bruise-tight hold. He draws Charles' hand away from his face, but then he doesn't let go, just keeps holding on, fingers circling Charles' wrist like they're meant to fit there. "Only you?" he echoes, and it sounds like a question.

Charles nods, because there was never any other answer, and he's about to say it, too, but then Pierre kisses the words right off his mouth.

If Charles' world hadn't already exploded so thoroughly earlier, then it would now.

It's a good kiss. No, it's better than a good kiss - it's a fucking incredible kiss; Pierre's one hand still wrapped around Charles' wrist while the other finds its way to his waist, like it belongs there. Pierre kisses him like he's still a little angry, but also like he's never meant anything more, pouring every part of his soul into it. Pierre kisses him like he's already imagining the night they're going to spend together after this, and he kisses Charles like how he's planning to fuck him later.

Charles has no objections to that. None at all.

Well. Except the one.

He pulls away from the kiss, pressing his palm hard to the side of Pierre's face. "You're going to spend my next heat with me," he says, orders more like, and it's far too possessive, but he can't bring himself to care. Not one goddamned bit.

Pierre growls, low in his throat, and pulls Charles even closer to him. "No, chéri," he says, too-softly. "I'm going to spend every single heat with you from now on. Forever."

"Forever," Charles breathes, and then he kisses Pierre again, hard, making it a promise. "Forever."

[mintjeru]

plave in tiny

open for better quality | no reposts

[amoneki-ramblings]

do you think Kaneki might ever pray with Amon despite not being catholic himself? just sitting next to him mumbling the words as Amon says it because he likes to be with him

speaking of religion, what kind of faith do you think Kaneki would follow? I hc him as an atheist :) but I think you know more about religions than me lol

Ooooh I like that idea a lot actually I have So Many Thoughts (rubs my hands together evilly)

also this is just a sidenote but i know some people may be uncomfortable with religious discussion, so if you are lmk and i'll start tagging it :thumbsup:

I feel like Amon hasn't prayed often in a while because of his past, but he may still on occasion (habit), and may get back into it properly after actually resolving his feelings with the past. At some point Kaneki starts to join him. He doesn't really know How to pray, especially since a lot of it is in silence, he probably just kneels there and silently wishes for safety for his friends, for strength and resolve, etc. etc. But when Amon starts saying the actual prayers out loud he just sits there and listens to him quietly saying them.

At some point Kaneki might start mumbling along with them, he vaguely knows some of the prayers and has heard Amon say them enough times to kind of know them. Amon is surprised when Kaneki starts doing that and it just kind of becomes a Thing; maybe Kaneki even asks Amon to tell him how to pray the rosary since he sees him doing that often as well (when the rosary is prayed in a group there's one person leading that says the first half of most of the prayers and the rest say the other half, and I think it would be interesting with them alternating like that)

While Kaneki isn't catholic himself he finds it reassuring, while it's unlikely to him that there's someone out there that'll actually grant his prayers it's a nice thought, y'know? It's also just very relaxing there, even if it was kind of awkward at first

I think he also finds the sound of Amon praying very relaxing *cough*

I also think Kaneki would be atheist, while he wouldn't completely deny the possibility of there being a god of some sort he also isn't really a follower of any particular belief system (note: ive actually been informed that there is a better term for this, agnostic, which is essentially being neutral lol). I think Amon would know this, and therefore doesn't really know why Kaneki chooses to pray with him despite this, but he figures that Kaneki does have a lot of things he would want to pray for, things he would want to seek forgiveness for, too, and he appreciates that Kaneki is willing to spend time with him like this anyway.

[shalpilot]

she has a friend nowwww