#both: damn not again

[dermy-der-demp]

you know what i love about this 3 idiots?

that no matter what u ship one of them is always the adopted son.

you ship kubosai? kaido is the shy-weird but with overprotective parents kid

ship saikai? aren is the problematic kid that got the killer instinct for saiki but the sweetness for kaido

ship kubokai? saiki is the quiet and "shy" boy that is obligated to be wherever his parents are

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[cloud-ya]

finally beat dark gaia today, had to draw werehog about it

[heartorbit]

figure skating set right now please. thanks

[spitedemon]

i really don’t think it’s “typical dragon age fandom nonsense” for people to be genuinely upset about the world state choices. combat, level design, art direction, gameplay gimmicks, those have all varied across each dragon age game. the one thing that’s remained constant are nods to our previous choices.

i wasn’t expecting my HoF to come riding in on a griffon, but i can’t find a monument dedicated to warden tabris somewhere around the anderfels? lucanis couldn’t have some lines about the time that one arainai boy was stirring up trouble in antiva city? you’re gonna tell me that making a mage the new divine wouldn’t have some impact on nevarra and antiva? on the anderfels, the supposed most devout militant andrastian nation in thedas? you’re saying nobody in the north is paying attention to who rules orlais or ferelden? come on.

[khattikeri]

i firmly believe that if shen qingqiu had just turned on the waterworks in the water prison luo binghe would've folded like a house of cards. no self detonation no nothing if shen qingqiu had just let the mask down even for 2 minutes and cried real tears luo binghe would've busted him out, healed his wounds, fed him nice food, tucked his shizun in, and punted himself back into the abyss again. my god

[karta-ri]

love as kindling for the flames of greed

[aweebshitdrawings]

From the lovely minds of @babyblankyerror and @aroace-get-out-of-my-face I bring you ford hating a puppet more then Bill lol

Ford hate room requested in this

[a-spacecadet]

Graphic design is my passion

-

So I wanted to make these kinda look like a 50’s ad for a department store or something like that…really tried to utilize how nice the character designs from Clone High really are 💕

[syn0vial]

i appreciate that in the boba fett expanded universe canon, we have multiple moments from multiple authors that boil down to "despite his reputation/appearance, boba fett is not fearless, and is in fact doing his level best right now to walk calmly away from this objectively terrifying situation rather than breaking into a fucking sprint in the opposite direction"

[nox-in-a-box]

I watched Zippleback Down today, great episode. The twins were quite entertaining, and it was nice to see Torch again. Have some Tuffnut sketches that I drew! I was inspired to try drawing him after watching this episode.

[damnedbeans]

if Sangwoo actually won the 33rd game instead of Gihun, I don't think that it would be in his character to go against the game creators, because unlike Gihun, he lost hope in humanity and existence long before he even decided to participate. he would have kept on living his normal life, pretending that nothing ever happened, or at least trying to, considering that he WOULD have had to kill Gihun in terms of winning.

still, if he somehow rejoined the games, and if somehow Inho yet again decided to play his role of Youngil, I can't even begin to imagine what kind of mind games they would've had going on. Since in canon Inho tried to act like Sangwoo for Gihun on purpose to manipulate him, it would make sense for him to be the opposite for Sangwoo, maybe trying to guilt trip him so he would slowly begin to lose it.

I also think that Sangwoo would see through it, through the mask of Youngil, at least a little. he's way less confiding than Gihun, more intelligent and harder to manipulate, but again, there's that trauma and a personification of the reminder of him having to kill Gihun, so that would sure throw him off. Sangwoo and Inho's dynamic had so much potential.

[hungrydata]

Day 33

It's the 33rd day of the year, 02/02/25. And 3x2 is 6, two 6s are 66 and.... Ok let's stop with the terrible joke, it doesn't work anyway. Here is my very first Helluva Boss drawing for this occasion.

Asked my friend @magamasubitu to give me a scenario with Stolitz and they told me that Stolas should throw a ball. I... misunderstood it at first, so down below we have Fizz holding what I first interpreted then.

Yk, like... Stolas... Throwing an actual ball. Like tennis... ball. Too much ballz.

[hiding-under-the-willow]

i’m loving the bbc ghosts au, do you have any cub scraps? 🤲 if you don’t just know that i love him!

I can't stop thinking about the moment Joe and Cub meet and figure out that Cub kind of indirectly killed Joe with the same fireworks accident that killed him.

Just. Joe staring at this guy in a scout's uniform covered in soot and powder dyes like.

"So. uh. how is it, exactly, that you died?"

"Oh, fireworks accident. It was crazy dude, you'd be surprised how dangerous homemade fireworks can be."

"I don't think I'd be that surprised actually." "..." "When did you say this happened, again?"

"Oh, it would've been uh... June, 1990?"

"..."

"What about you?"

"..."

"Joe?"

"You know- and this is gonna sound crazy-"

[blackkatdraws2]

I have a lot of leftover drawings in my gallery. [Blank Scripts AU]

[Content Warning: Images below contain Gore, Death, and Disturbing/Uncomfortable Imagery]

I find it a bit cute knowing they start out as crazy and then slowly settle into something calmer and relatively healthier after learning to adapt to each other's lust-turned-love. [Stanley did it first but hey :3]

[lsunstreakerl]

2.8k o!darkbull verse. (I should make a distinction here, because I ever want to write standard darkbull with omegaverse things will get very confusing)

max POV, charles POV, mature. warnings below the cut, but also we all knew where this was going.

Relevant heads up: all previous warnings apply, discussion of failed birth control, mpreg (opreg? preg? where is the line here?)

Max whines, shifting uncomfortably in the nest. He's feeling achy, sore and pinched in all the wrong places.

The way his stomach revolts when he sits up doesn't help much either– there's a moment where he thinks he really might hurl.

Charles is gone, off at some kind of marketing meeting. Max can feel the familiar faintness in the bond, letting him know the alpha is far away.

His stomach makes its displeasure known again, and Max takes a few moments to wonder about the benefits of throwing up in Charles' things.

It would make him feel better.

Charles would make him clean it up.

He groans, making his way out of the nest and into the bathroom. The bond is tugging more than usual, to the point he wonders if Charles had to travel further than just the factory.

Briefly afterwards he's not wondering anything at all, head bowed over the bowl.

------

Nothing in their flat looks remotely appealing to eat. Max shifts from the fridge, to the pantry, to the counter, and back again, but nothing changes.

He feels weird, and he doesn't like it.

It's not a sensation he's used to- he's familiar with being unsettled, but it feels deeper this time, nestled near his bones. He's jumpy, even in their flat.

He's annoyed with himself when he finally makes a protein shake, doing workouts out the home gym for a couple of hours before finally making his way to the shower.

Even the extended workout hasn't helped- he feels just as twitchy as before.

Cleaning out and rearranging the nest doesn't help either. Max is pretty sure he's made it worse by washing everything, and he has to go digging into one of Charles' abandoned suitcases to find something with any remaining scent.

He's fucked up the nest, he's not hungry, and he's starting to feel paranoid. It's not a good combo.

It's not until he's buried himself deep into the nest, having shifted the entire thing into the back corner of the home office, as far back into the flat as he can get, that he thinks there might really be a problem.

------

The nest smells stale. Alpha isn't here, hasn't been here in days, has left him alone, vulnerable and unprotected in the den. He can fix that. He can burrow further, disguise his scent even more, keep quiet and still.

Alpha will come back.

------

Charles is in the middle of their lunch break when he feels a violent tug of nausea in his gut. It's not from him- he hasn't even taken a bite yet. It's the bond. Max.

Max has been trying to brush it off the last few weeks, but he's been different since the premier two months ago. He's weaker, doesn't fight Charles on things as much. It's been nagging at him, watching his omega get weaker in front of his eyes. He'd already decided Max would be going to the clinic when he got back from his multi-day marketing duties, but-

He sends a text to Fred, clapping Ollie on the shoulder.

"Sorry mate, but I need to head back home. Emergency."

Ollie's nose scrunches up sympathetically.

"Max?"

Charles nods. His rookie teammate's concern over Charles' bondmate is cute, in a puppy way. He doesn't mind letting it slide when he catches Ollie watching his omega a little too closely, in ways that aren't necessarily friendly.

Ollie knows better than to ever act on it, and Charles is well aware that Max is the perfect omega fantasy to any racer- but only Charles gets to have him.

He's quick about gathering his things, sliding into the car. He cautiously feels at the bond.

More often than not, trying to prod at Max through it results in a bitchy attitude and the cold shoulder, and while normally Charles wouldn't have any issues putting Max in his place- he's a little worried at the moment.

He doesn't want there to be something wrong, and Max is the kind of omega to try and hide things. The omega specialist Charles has been speaking with had warned him about that kind of behavior.

Charles calls the other alpha during his drive home.

"Hello, yes, this is Charles? Last name Leclerc. I've been going through the registration process with Dr. Romano for my omega, and I would like to get an emergency appointment."

------

The first thing Charles notices when he opens the door to his flat is that things have been moved. Drastically.

It's practically an obstacle course getting inside- the couch is angled right where they used to have a pathway, the coffee table is between the kitchen and the living room, and it looks like Max had made a decently impressive attempt at moving the heavy dresser into the middle of the hallway.

The second thing he notices, immediately after the first, is that it smells wrong. The scent puts him on edge- strong notes of agitated omega.

They're taught about it in school, briefly, about accidentally stumbling into a nesting space for an expecting omega. If they have an alpha, it's usually tucked away somewhere small and quiet, kept neat.

If they're alone...

They'll disorganize their environment, to make it as difficult as possible for someone to get to them.

Charles' head is reeling.

Implications later. Max could still just be sick, it's not like there's a whole lot of info on how sick omegas behave, other than the blanket statement of hysteria and unreasonableness.

He makes his way carefully through the hallway, trying to project his scent as he steps into the bedroom.

The nest is gone.

The bed has been stripped of its sheets, the closet looks like it's been ripped into, and Charles is fairly confident he spots one of his suitcases half shoved under the bed, but no nest.

He's glad he scheduled the emergency appointment.

Max isn't in the living room, or the bedroom, and Charles tries to feel at the bond, but all he knows is that his omega is somewhere nearby.

If Max were trying to defend himself, alone, then...

Charles makes his way back deeper into the flat, all the way to back where the home office is. There's clutter across the floors, and the lights are off, but the agitated smell is getting stronger- it sets his nerves on edge.

Omegas are naturally weaker and submissive. They're not built to fight back or show their teeth, save for one, critical exception.

Expecting omegas, or omegas with recent pups- they're known for causing fatalities to intruders. It's the only time where an omega might be considered dangerous.

Charles is looking at the last two months in a different light. Max has been pickier about his food, more submissive in his behavior, suffering from random but frequent bouts of nausea.

He projects his scent stronger, starting up a low rumble as he steps into the office. There's a pile in the far corner, what could loosely be called a nest if Charles were being optimistic. He can barely make out the tufts of blonde hair hidden underneath one of his Ferrari jackets, but he can smell how stale his own scent is from here.

He's only been gone a few days- not normally an issue for him and Max. Clearly, it's an issue now.

There's a soft hiss from the pile, and Charles feels a slightly panicky tug at the bond, confusing him for a moment before he realizes.

Max hasn't realized it's him. He just knows there's an alpha near his nest, and as far as he's aware, his bondmate isn't there to protect him and the-

"Max, baby, it's me."

He lowers to a crouch a few feet from the nest, keeping his voice low, careful to maintain the rumble. There's a gleam of sharp blue eyes before the hissing abruptly cuts off, and Charles feels a slight tug at the bond.

It's a sensation he's not used to- generally Max is perfectly content to pretend it's not there, so Charles has grown to think of it as more of a one way street.

"That's right, it's okay. I came home early."

Max's scent shifts in a blink, from agitated omega to need, launching from the nest into Charles, purring in his lap as he shoves his nose into his neck.

Charles falls flat back onto his ass, unprepared for the rapid turnaround, wrapping his arms around Max. He's squirming, trying to scent him and get closer at the same time, and Charles can't get a good grip on him until he gets his fingers in Max's hair, yanking his head up.

As much as he'd like to take a moment and admire the way it forces Max's neck into a gorgeous curve, just begging for Charles to sink his teeth into-

They have an appointment to get to.

------

Alpha is back, one hand wrapped firmly across his neck. He's slumped in the seat, eyes hazy. Alpha came back, he's good enough, there's someone to take care of them.

Alpha smells worried-stressed-nervous, and he attempts to purr, trying to soothe his nerves. He'll be good for Alpha, make him want to come back again and again and again, prove that he's worth taking care of.

A thumb rubs heavy across his scent gland, and he whines, pressing his thighs together. He's no longer smelling fear-scared-abandoned, but he's still anxious. They've left the nest and the den, and he's wrapped firmly in Alpha's scent, but he doesn't know what they're doing.

He whines, distressed this time, and Alpha rumbles at him, palm squeezing tighter across his neck.

"You'll be alright Max, we're almost there, we're going to get you figured out."

Alpha's stress scent is stronger, and he tries to look up at him, purring louder. He's okay, as long as Alpha is here, taking care of them. He can't do it by himself.

------

Charles isn't freaking out. He's being very put together about the entire thing, mentally figuring out how much he's willing to pay to have this specialist on-call for the duration of Max's... whatever.

Max is whining softly in the passenger seat, eyes dilated wide, scent sticky sweet. He's trying to come off as enticing- Charles knew it would upset him to leave the flat, but there wasn't enough time for him to get the specialist out to them.

He can't think of how to explain to Max that he's not going to abandon him, and it's twisting at his heart that his omega thinks Charles could just leave him.

They're together for life. Charles has never wanted anyone else, never will- it's only ever been Max. He knew the universe agreed from the first day he'd noticed the change to Max's scent, and leading Max into the dark, getting his teeth in him on his presentation heat- it's a cosmic stamp of approval.

He's never letting him go.

------

Alpha is putting the collar on him, soft and tight around his throat, pressing down on the scent glands, covering his vulnerability. Alpha is still claiming him, still wants him.

He doesn't want to leave, even though Alpha is tugging gently at him. They're in a small space. It's not comfortable, but he can make it work, he'll make anything work, he's adaptable, he's good-

------

Charles manages to get Max out of the car. There's a fair bit of whining, and he eventually has to use a Command, hoping desperately that it will work, even though normal words don't seem to be getting through to him.

The Command does.

Dr. Romano is waiting for them inside, scent completely neutralized by blocking patches.

"Leclerc, yes? This way please, I have a nesting space for your omega while we talk."

That's new. Charles is interested as he follows the other alpha down the hallway, coming to stop in front of an arched entryway. The room beyond it has soft lights, an assortment of nesting materials on a previous base, high walls and a sheltered corner.

Dr. Romano looks over at him.

"Watching what he immediately picks is part of the process, for me. I've found omegas will gravitate for different things, depending on their condition. You can let him go."

Charles loosens his grip on Max's collar, gently nudging him through the doorway. Max whines softly, looking back at him, and Charles pulls his jumper off, passing it to him.

Apparently, that was all Max wanted. He immediately steps into the room, collecting thick materials and beelining for the sheltered corner, tucked himself into the back.

Dr. Romano hums.

"Yes, that's what I thought, based on what you told me over the phone. Obviously we will need testing done, but I would say with a fair degree of confidence that he's expecting."

Charles swallows.

"But- he's on an implant?"

The doctor waves a hand absentmindedly.

"For a long time, yes? They do not work forever. He looks healthy enough, from here. Strong build, good instincts. See how he has hidden? It is an unfamiliar environment, and he is defensive already. Omegas are not naturally aggressive unless they have pups, as I'm sure you know. Has he shown this behavior before?"

Charles winces, sheepishly making a face.

"Ah, he is not particularly typical as a norm, doctor. I prefer him a bit more wild. He has never been like this though, it is like my words are not even getting through to him."

Dr. Romano claps him on the shoulder with a gentle smile.

"That is normal, for expecting dames. It is hard for them, with the instincts, they struggle to handle it, so they give into their more feral side. It comes and goes throughout the term."

Charles swallows, nodding. He wasn't- obviously he can accommodate for it, and he'd been planning on pups after his first championship anyways, which he has, but-

He just hadn't expected it now. He remembers the other physician's advice about spoiling, and winces. Leaving his expecting omega for several days at time is not a good show of support.

He'll have to step it up. Max will go everywhere with him, there's no doubt about that. He'll have a designated space in the Ferrari factory and hospitality for when he can't be with Charles, and Charles will make sure there's always someone with him.

Not one of Ferrari's people-

One of his people.

------

Max is confused when he wakes up. His head feels foggy, vision swimming when he opens his eyes. Charles is laying next to him, has Max pulled tight to his chest. They're in the nest, but they're in the office, which is... not where the nest is supposed to be.

"Wake the fuck up."

He shoves at Charles' shoulder, eyes narrowing. He doesn't feel sick at the moment, which feels more like a rarity than the norm, lately.

Charles rumbles lowly at him, annoyed.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a bad attitude?"

Max hisses softly.

"You, multiple times. Why are we in the office?"

One green eye cracks open lazily, eyeing Max. Charles looks tired, and not in the typical Ferrari way.

"Because you are pregnant. Let me go back to sleep."

Charles closes his eye, rolling over into the nest to shove his face in the pillow.

Max's brain is a high pitched, continuous steam whistle.

No.

He's- he's on the fucking implant, he's not-

The nausea. The tiredness, the bone deep exhaustion, the rearrangement of the flat he's been doing constantly, the mood swings-

He snarls, smacking Charles in the shoulder.

"No, do not roll over at me, what do you mean I'm fucking pregnant? Excuse me?"

Charles growls, gripping Max by the hair and shoving him back down into the pillows, rolling over and straddling his chest, pinning him.

One hand turns his face as Charles bends down, crooning in his ear.

"Well, Max, when an alpha loves an omega very much-"

Max snaps at him, trying to buck up underneath him, but Charles holds fast, fingers tightening in his hair until Max stops with a pained whine.

"The implant failed, so now you have a litter. Congrats. No, you're not far along enough for us to know how many. Yes, I am as surprised as you are. No, I don't know when it happened. We are going back to bed now, yes?"

Max feels like cold water has been dumped over him, and he can't stop the panicked feeling in his chest- the next whine is far more distressed, enough that Charles' face visibly softens as he rolls off of him, sighing as he tugs Max further under the blankets.

"It's okay, baby. I'm not going to leave you, I wanted these pups. I might not have expected them now, but they will be well taken care of, because you will be well taken care of. You're mine, Max. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I promised that when I bit you."

Max hates that the reassurance helps, sinking into him and soothing his base instincts, settling down nerves he didn't realize he had.

He just-

He thought he'd have a little more time.