#but the fun kind of havoc

[valiant-if]

sometimes i wonder if i'm doing too many variables and making an IF that's too big

but then i remember

i can do whatever the hell i want

[telesodalite]

I love the idea that, whenever a Cybertronian space-faring vessel lands or docks within a predominantly non-Cybertronian space station or port, that it's required that they either confirm or deny whether their vessel is sentient or not before being permitted to land.

1. For proper accommodation and clarification, along with the chance for communication between the vessel and crews working the station/port.

2. Because there has been... incidents... incidents that have led to the requirement of the above reasons.

[ohsayaka]

sayaka maizono and selfishness

in an attempt to compensate for the overall hate sayaka got as a character i feel like a lot of people try to sympathize with her morally as a person by insisting she was fully, 100% altruistic in her motivations, that she ONLY cared about saving her bandmates. while she does genuinely love and consider them family i believe its a lot more fascinating to take into account the ways in which the idol industry hollow out sayaka, and how her initial dream (spreading love and hope to lonely people the same way the idols on TV saved her as a child) becomes twisted and forgotten in what she has to sacrifice for it, her wellbeing, authenticity, all for the sake of the image she has to put on to survive in such a competitive dehumanizing industry.....

all her sense of purpose and identity depends on her ult idol title, to the point where she considers murder and follows through with her plan. at some level of consciousness sayaka believes the ends justify the means, there is a fair degree of selfishness in her because she's nothing outside the success of her career. and then there's sayaka's hopeful, last act of true kindness (11037)

this is crucial to what ch1 means as the base of danganronpa, the deceit, first impressions, the way ultimate titles define them in such a world, its themes of fame, idolatry, talent & hard work... it sets the tone for all that comes next.

[lucksea]

mroe ultra colors...... more

[ashuribbon]

ASHUR! How are you enjoying the update so far?

I'll let this video I made on Blender explain it for you /silly /lhj

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

I will say that despite his clear and utter hatred for the game and characters, Jello conceptualizes "Makoto's kind of a freak actually?" better then a good chunk of the fandom

[viridescent-lance]

🍪

[ rolls: 5+5 😳 ]

After their first attempt, Forsyth's been thinking a lot about the results of his pocky game with Lukas. The exhilaration of a close match against a friend, condensed into a sweet treat--it's nice, when done with someone you like and trust. So when Lukas approaches him for a rematch, what else could he do but accept?

Lukas is more intense this time, determined. His cool red eyes focus in, getting closer and closer. Forsyth is just as ready, making his way down the biscuit, steady and paced. His breath hitches a little at the bump of Lukas's nose against his, but he stays strong, continuing his path.

(Something stirs in the back of his memory, an uncomfortable, thrilling prickle. He pushes it away.)

He should not be surprised when their lips get so close they brush slightly. This is his last chance to pull away. Lukas's, too.

(Clumsy, drunken stumbling in the wake of that terrible lonely time. Tear-stained cheeks caressed, red-rimmed eyes soothed with a damp cloth. A kind gaze, one you could fall into. How could he not want to...?)

Their lips meet, neither willing to back down. Forsyth's heart skips a beat, the cloying sweetness of chocolate mixing between their mouths, and he cannot deny the desire in the moment to stay.

It's exactly why he has to pull away, breathing heavily and swallowing down the biscuit that he hasn't. He can't--he--Lukas is his friend, his dear and close friend who he trusts with his whole heart. He cannot jeopardize that for an impulsive desire.

"I..." If his heart could just stop hammering, if he could return his breath to normal and step back from the charged situation that resulted in this reaction. Surely Lukas will not fault him for this result, at least. The point of the game is to create such tension, a thinly-veiled, juvenile tradition to fish for closeness with crushes. "…it seems we have ended this at an impasse."

(Then why was he so eager to do it with Lukas?)

"I...should go attend to my duties." It's a flimsy excuse, but he can hardly stand to look at Lukas now, especially not the flecks of chocolate and crumbs surrounding his mouth. Which of them were originally in Forsyth's mouth? "The students are getting into an abundance of trouble today, given, well. You know. So, I should get to my patrol."

He briskly walks away, no particular direction in mind. He feels guilt weigh down the giddiness in his stomach like lead. Oh, he must tell Python about this...

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

While I’m still thinking about Cata and Origins, if/when I replay her I’m thinking about the repercussions of changing up the main quest order I’ve had her story locked into for like 8 years, and swapping Redcliffe and the Circle, so having Redcliffe first after Lothering, then the Circle, then werewolves Denerim Temple Orzammar.

On one hand, I think Redcliffe first makes a lot of sense. On the other, Cata and Alistair’s relationship arc is “bantering-friendly-allies-of-necessity-and-trauma to silent-strained-allies-of-necessity to ????? to friends to lovers” and Redcliffe is where they have their big blowup fight that shapes most of their arc, so having that come earlier on changes the dynamic some. And Cata doesn’t properly apologize until after the werewolf curse is broken, so there’s longer there that that things are strained between them. On the first hand, that then means that there’s more time later for the ????? stage, which would happen after the Circle tower where being trapped in the Fade forces Cata to realize that she really does care about Alistair, but she’s still too proud and fucked up to properly apologize about it for a while, so after the Fade trip she would be trying to act like things are like they first were between her and Alistair, and Alistair is of course deeply, deeply confused because Cata does not vocalize any of her feelings.

But on the other hand again, the bit with Alistair’s mother’s amulet is kind of important in their arc, too - Cata finds it in Redcliffe and remembers what Alistair told her about it, but they just had that massive fight about Isolde’s death, and Cata doesn’t want Alistair to think she’s trying to bribe her way back into his good graces, so she holds onto it for a while until it gets harder and harder for her to figure out how to admit that she has it so she just sneaks it in with his stuff, and he realizes it must have been her. And I can’t remember if there’s an approval-gate on initially learning about the amulet, or if it just comes up pretty soon once you talk about Eamon/going to Redcliffe.

Well I guess this means I’ll have to replay Origins as Cata again. No other choice. No way around it.

[thatemowriter]

My teacher: Okay, we’re going to do a murder mystery activity. Put your desks in a circle, and you’ll all get roles, alibis, and evidence to debate and solve the murder.

Me who plays way too many mystery/debate games: My time has come

[wildsummerrose]

I feel like this guy would be an incredibly successful time traveler. Like, even though his medium is chocolate, he uses all of the same tools as a woodworker would use.  He also spends a lot of time figuring out how to manipulate shapes in 3-D to re-create other objects.

If he couldn't get a job as a patisier to some kind of monarch, he could probably apprentice himself to a carpenter, or some other skilled craftsman, or maybe a sculptor.

ITS FUCKING LOAD BEARING?!

[lunamugetsu]

Danny is a house husband.

That's it, that's all it is.

As the years went on. Danny retired from being a superhero. There was no need for Phantom when the GIW were dealt with and all the ghosts were under control.

Now what's left for him to do but to just sit back, relax, and finally be able to live his life.

Sam and Tucker on the other hand....

Well, they had plenty of pent up rage, wits, and chaos inside their mind to become villains.

But they had one rule.

Never bring work home and to never involve Danny in any of their supervillain business.

Okay that's technically two rules, but they're kind of synonymous especially since Danny has been taking care of their house while also entertaining himself with trying new hobbies.

Tucker and Sam both make sure that they never bring any of their villainy home to Danny, because all they want is for Danny to enjoy his happy hero retirement.

And Danny in turn, doesn't bat an eye when watching the news and seeing that there were magical plants that were attacking sites that oil companies were digging or that somehow Lex Luthor had lost five hundred million dollars and had somehow leaked records showing he was building weapons of mass destruction.

He also doesn't bat an eye when he sees that Tucker had brought home a telescope that definitely looks like it came from some fancy lab because hey, Tucker was making him an observatory so he can look at the stars and planets. While also how they were able to make a great gaming pc with computer parts that are definitely not sold in stores, because hey at least the newest update of Doomed wasn't lagging.

Or that Sam comes home with various plants and animals that are definitely not from planet earth, but hey the three headed wolf-lizard-eagle- hybrid thing (that Danny has affectionately named Fluffy) is pretty great at keeping the pests away from his vegetable garden and likes to eat any of Danny's new food creations and is a great playmate for Cujo.

So you can imagine how the Justice League thinks when dealing with the pair of new villains: Upload (Tucker) and Sam (I could not think of a villain name that would suit her, so it's up to you what you think her villain name would be)

And how they were currently wreaking havoc in the city either by cyber warfare with robots or by magic plant monster or a Frankenstein of both approaches. The heroes had all evacuated the civilians from the battle zone and are currently fighting a losing battle. When they've been effectively captured and restrained by the two. Right before the villains could go into a monologue, they hear a person clearing their throat.

Everybody looks to see a 25 year old man wearing a sweater vest (he made it himself, thank you very much) currently holding onto the leash of a giant glowing green dog and some kind of giant animal hybrid. The man's arms were crossed and was currently not sporting a very happy look on his face.

Tucker and Sam (looking at Danny with hesitant smiles): Hi honey.

Danny (frowning): you missed our anniversary dinner.

Tucker and Sam both pale as they quickly realized what the date and time was.

The league all watch as Sam and Tucker immediately start apologizing to the man that just walked into a battle zone.

Danny (still frowning): Hmph! I guess since you two didn't want dinner you can go back to your little fight. Don't expect me to make you any lunches for the next month, and since you two are having so much fun here, you'll be sleeping by yourselves for the next couple weeks.

The league all watch as they were let go as Sam and Tucker yell as they run after Danny yelling apologies as he was walking away from them.

This is not the last they see of Danny.

When Danny is displeased with either of his partners, he'll invite a hero over to have lunch of afternoon tea.

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 4 — BODY WORSHIP

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — xiao, heizou

— warnings. — fem! reader, oral (fem! receiving), they're obsessed with you, praising and pussy drunk men

⚝ — XIAO

xiao was never one for indulgence—yet, there he was, on top of you with his lips ghosting over your skin, murmuring ancient mantras underneath his breath.

you gasp, each kiss he pressed upon you was meant to "cleanse", that's what he told you, to purge the lingering traces of darkness that dared to cling to your beautiful being— although as his mouth traveled from your shoulder to the curve of your collarbone, his actions became more than just protective— they became slightly possessive.

xiao could feel your pulse quicken beneath his lips, especially when he lapped all the way down to your warmth but stopped right above your clit and fuck, it only spurred him on to do the next following, as much as sinful notion.

his hands, usually so disciplined, traced the delicate lines of your body with a searing touch as they settle on your thighs so he could leisurely place his head between your thighs.

every inch of you called to him, like a magnet for his affection, and he couldn’t stop, fuck he couldn't— just couldn't stop and seeing your cunt all sopping and wet of your own liquids made it hard to process all of this.

"i need to rid you of this," he whispered and you could swear you saw a slight smirk, in fact, it sounded like an excuse, his lips brushing over your folds as if he was addicted to the feeling, "you deserve to be free from harm."

before you could even moan at the way his words are impacting you, your arousal drips at his tongue and cheeks and leaves a mess for him to clean up. his mouth rotates between kissing your clit before his lips eagerly curve around the sensitive pearl as he sucks and nudges his tongue along the twitching spot.

you were the embodiment of purity in xiao's eyes and he couldn’t help but worship you for it.

it’s divine— your taste, and he licks at you, laps and slurps every droplet of your messy slick until your fingers relentlessly grabbed at his roots as your folds quiver, your hole clenching and fluttering around air.

xiao couldn’t stop. he didn’t want to. you were his sanctuary, and every caress, every kiss, every lick and taste only anchored him further to you.

⚝ — HEIZOU

heizou had always been a playful soul and you loved that about him— next to that, you were his favorite puzzle to solve.

leisurely, his fingers danced over your skin with the kind of dexterity that only a detective could have, exploring every inch with the curiosity of someone eager to learn and most importantly, please.

but it wasn’t an investigation driving him tonight— it was sheer delight.

"mm, what’s this?" he teases and furrows his brows, his lips quirking into a smile as he pressed his leaky tip against your slit, watching you squirm effortlessly under his sensual touch.

for some reason— which was actually pretty obvious as though why he was so good at it, heizou had an unparalleled knack for finding every sensitive spot, every place that made you gasp or sigh, most definitely cry out his name.

the detective adored seeing the way you reacted to him, to his cock nestling in your pussy and pulsing through your walls, wrecking havoc when he moves it in and out, slow at first, then rocks it harder and messier until you couldn’t help but arch your body and grind your hips back into him.

you were his to explore, and oh, he took his time, don't you worry about that one— heizou had no need to rush, he could tease you for hours because you see, you were his canvas, and he would paint you with every stroke of his movements and cum.

"you’re far too fun to resist," he smirks, lips ghosting along your collarbones before he buries his face into your neck, groaning like a mad man when he slowly pulls himself into your warmth so your walls could stroke him, welcome and squeeze at his shaft, twist around him until your liquids collide.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[lucksea]

im two episodes away from finishing Ultraman X and my two takeaways are that 1 ginga really was just not that good because theyre also mostly just fucking around in X but its way more enjoyable in this show and also 2 i need to go watch nexus after this

[p01kad0t]

Well luvs, I feel like drawing but my idea pool is dry, and since I'm in a very summer-y mood, feel free to send me some summer fun danganronpa requests in my inbox!

They're not gonna be particularly canon reliant, but please no v3 spoilers!

[serensho]

୨୧‿‿‿୨ﾠ୧‿‿‿୨୧ ୨୧‿‿‿୨ﾠ୧‿‿‿୨୧

୨୧‿‿‿୨ﾠ୧‿‿‿୨୧ ୨୧‿‿‿୨ﾠ୧‿‿‿୨୧

she

in which you and mark have drifted apart...but that doesn't mean he's left your life for good.

warnings: SMUT, coochie eating, angst, surprisingly soft/fluffy, variant!mark, kind of creepy vibes but not too much imo, not canon compliant, fem!reader

wc: 2766

inspired by tyler the creator's she, sycamore tree by kali uchis

a/n: ayy doing something different by having my note at the beginning; thank you sm for the love on my last two posts! i hope you all love this one and reblog, like, reply, request, etc!! this could be imagined with any mark variant imo, but let me know who you think fits this best! also it is pretty light despite its inspo, and i hope you all like it! i had fun writing it and getting out of my comfort zone. enjoy

You and Mark Grayson have lost touch.

 It wasn’t surprising at first. Having grown up with him and watching his transformation from ordinary high schooler to superhero from only a few doors down– it seemed only natural that he would act differently, make new friends and find new hobbies. 

The two of you drifted apart as he began fighting crime, talking to girls, and the friendship that was once so strong between you fizzled out. There wasn’t any animosity– at least you tried not to harbor any– but it was only natural that a sense of bitterness began to fester as he stopped trying. 

He stopped coming over late at night after a fight with a petty villain, stopped walking you home, simply stopped. And you tried to reach out to him, to let him know you would always be there but he found comfort elsewhere. Which was fine. He was following a different path, one that was extraordinary compared to your ordinary experience going to the nearby college sometimes crossing paths with William and Amber. 

Last you heard she and Mark had broken up and he was now with Atom Eve. But a lot had been happening to Mark recently with the arrival of different versions of him wreaking havoc on Earth, and his subsequent fight with some sort of super strong hero from a completely different planet. You couldn’t help but worry for him, worry for Debbie and his little brother, Oliver. 

You still cared despite the loss of contact and that was what prompted you to try to write a text to him, hoping that his number hadn’t changed. However, it sat in your messages, too scared to send it. You stewed over it, reread it probably a hundred times, before giving up on it. Weeks passed by and you hadn’t read or watched anything in the news about Invincible, deeming that that was probably a good thing. 

Which was why when you saw him waiting on the sidewalk in front of your house after dark one night was so weird. At least you were pretty sure it was him. Deciding to investigate further, you padded downstairs from your bedroom to the front door, slipping on a pair of shoes and walking outside, turning on the flashlight of your phone while approaching the pavement. Only to find that Mark– whoever had been waiting outside had left without a trace. You called out into the night, looking around before going inside, but you couldn’t shake the feeling as though something, someone had been watching you. You walked back upstairs and decided to try to relax, pamper yourself for tonight to rid yourself of the sensation.

From far above in the sky, Mark held a hand over his mouth as he chuckled. Your cute chirp and frightened look on your face excited him. Back in his home universe, you hadn’t been so close to him– it was a wonder why this world’s Mark hadn’t taken advantage of your proximity but after days of observation, weeks, Mark realized that you two weren’t together, weren’t even friends. That was something he would be sure to remedy. But he couldn’t rush it no, that would be too suspicious. He tapped his chin in thought as he flew to your bedroom window. Your light was still on, blinds open to let the moonlight in, and he quickly flew to hide behind a nearby tree as you approached the window– only to open it to let the cool night air flow into your room. He could hear your sweet humming and watched as you sat down on your bed to brush your hair. He imagined running his hands through it, brushing it himself, pulling it– but it got so much better when you began undressing right before his very eyes. 

You hummed along to a soft tune as you applied velvety lotion along your body, massaging your thighs, hips, before moving up to your chest. You plopped down on your bed again, putting some on your arms before redressing into a silky pajama set and turning your lights off. 

Mark was hoping for you to do more. To touch yourself, rub and pinch your nipples, play with your clit until he could hear you mewling and crying out in pleasure– but he supposed he would have to be the one to pull those sweet sounds from you instead.

In the days that followed Mark began to slowly insert himself back into your life. He began leaving signs, walking throughout your house leaving doors and windows open so he could watch you later that day. He followed you around as you drove to work, college, to the grocery store–meanwhile you had been noticing these things, realizing that you hadn’t left your bedroom window open all day…Had you? 

Mark continued to stay hidden, biding his time for the perfect moment to approach you but he wanted to learn more about you in this world, and found himself falling for you all over again. As luck would have it, that perfect moment arose the same day this world’s Invincible made headlines after having been in a particularly nasty fight with another villain. 

You paced your room, contemplating sending that text to Mark. It certainly couldn’t hurt, could it? It was simple and to the point–Saw what happened, hope you’re doing alright. I’m always here if you need to talk. You took a deep breath as you collapsed onto your bed afterwards, the night hours becoming later as you tried to distract yourself in anticipation of a response. You were reading a book as your phone suddenly buzzed, the screen lighting. Your heart jumped as you scrambled to grab it, the message reading, I’m alright. Just been dealing with a lot, hope you’re okay, too. 

Well, at least it was something. A sense of relief washed over you–quickly being followed with panic as a knock came from your window. You got up and opened it, only to see–

“Mark!? Holy shit, how are you–what are you doing here right now?” You gasped as he hovered into your room and landed.

Something was up…you had just seen him fighting for his life on television and now he was wearing a new suit and visiting your bedroom after so many years?

“I had to see you,” he said as he looked you up and down. God, you looked even better up close.

“I thought you were hurt? How did you heal so fast?” you shook your head as you grabbed his arm, assessing him for injuries. None. You turned him around, seeing there wasn’t even a rip in this new suit. But he looked different in it, somehow. More muscular, like he filled it out more but maybe it was just the difference seeing him in person and on a screen. Your hands trailed along his body as you grabbed both of his hands in yours. Realizing what you were doing, checking him out and gawking, you dropped them as you turned around and cleared your throat, embarrassed. 

“It’s my powers. I’m good as new, now,” he said as he stretched, missing your soft hands on his body already. 

You frowned as you turned back to face him. “Mark, what are you doing in my room? We haven’t spoken in years. I mean, just because I sent you that text doesn’t mean I was expecting you to visit or–or that we can suddenly go back to what we used to be.”

Mark walked toward you as you backed away from him. Seriously, what was up with him? 

Noticing your apprehension he began taking off the face piece of his suit, grabbing your hands. “I’ve missed you. And that text…” he trailed off. What the fuck could he say that wouldn’t alert you to the fact that he wasn’t your Mark? “I–I realized that I wanna make up for the time we’ve lost together. It’s you I should’ve been giving my time and attention to, not anything else,” he reasoned, looking into your eyes deeply. 

You looked down to your hands, intertwined in his. You shook your head, thoughts running wild. You had harbored a crush on him when you two were friends. But he was with Eve, was he not? This all seemed to be some sort of dream, a fantasy. 

You sighed before meeting his longing gaze. “Mark, you have a girlfriend. I’m not some sort of boyfriend-stealer. I don’t know who you think you’re fooling right now, but you need to stop. It isn’t fair.”

His brows raised as he scowled. “I don’t care about her, we’re done. Her, those other girls, they were just distractions, I thought that I wanted them but my judgment was clouded. Now, I see what’s been in front of me this whole time,” he pulled you closer to him, still holding hands. He rubbed comforting circles as you looked at his face, carefully examining his features. 

His body was definitely more muscular in person– but his face was the same Mark you had been missing, yearning for. He seemed aged somehow, eyes sad but still holding that same depth you remembered. Which was what prompted you to lean into him, breaking your hands apart to rest one on his chest as you looked up at him. 

Everything was falling into place, perfectly.

“Mark, I’ll be honest, I don’t know what to think right now. Maybe this is stupid, but I…I believe you.”

You could feel his heartbeat quicken, from your touch or words you were unsure, as his hand which had been rubbing those comforting circles, stilled, tightening before releasing entirely. 

Mark’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back to your eyes. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his voice huskier now, lower. There was something dangerous, electric, in the way he spoke, as though he was holding back.

Your chest tightened as you leaned in closer, your lips just inches from his. “I missed you too,” you whispered, barely audible, feeling the weight of everything you hadn’t said in years. It all came crashing down now, in this moment—every longing glance, every unspoken word. 

Without thinking, you rose up on your toes, closing the gap between you, your lips brushing his in the lightest of touches. For a second, you hesitated, your heart pounding in your ears as you pulled back just enough to see his face, wondering if you’d gone too far.

But Mark’s reaction was immediate. His hand slid up, cradling the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deeper kiss. This time, there was no hesitation, no uncertainty. His lips crashed against yours with a kind of desperation, like he’d been starving for this for as long as you had. The kiss was firm, claiming, his other hand slipping down to rest on your waist, fingers curling possessively around your side.

You gasped against his mouth as his body pressed closer, his heat enveloping you. Every touch, every sensation felt amplified—the brush of his lips, the way his hand tugged lightly at your hair as he kissed you harder. Your fingers dug into his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath, and you could feel the tension in his body, something tight and wanting, waiting to be released.

“Mark…” you breathed, breaking the kiss for a moment as you leaned your forehead against his, your lips swollen and tingling from the intensity of it all. His eyes were clouded with desire as he stared down at you, his thumb brushing gently over your bottom lip.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he muttered, his voice rough with need. “I’m not letting you go this time.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in his tone, your body responding in ways you couldn’t control. His hands slid down your waist, pulling you against him, and you could feel the hardness of his body pressed firmly against yours. The air between you felt thick with desire, each breath you took seemed to pull you closer.

The line between wanting and restraint blurred as his lips found your neck, leaving slow, heated kisses along your skin, each one sending a shock of pleasure through you. You couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as he nipped lightly at the sensitive skin beneath your ear, his hands roaming lower, fingers brushing the curve of your hips.

Your pulse quickened, your body arching instinctively against him as his hands found the hem of your shirt, teasingly sliding beneath the fabric to touch your bare skin. His touch was warm, firm, but careful, like he was savoring every second of this moment. He helped you out of your top as he took in the sight of your breasts. 

You moved to cover yourself before Mark grabbed you bridal style, placing you on your bed as he quickly rid himself of the rest of his suit, completely bare before you. 

“Don’t be shy, baby. Lemme show you how much I want you,” he said as he climbed on top of you, pulling you into a long kiss. While your lips were locked, his hands came down to palm your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples. Mark pulled away from you, moving lower, sucking and kissing as he fondled one of your tits, bringing the other between his warm, wet mouth as he began suckling. 

You arched your back in pleasure as you brought a hand to pull at his hair as you moaned. 

“Oh, Mark–Please!”

He pulled away from you and tilted his head coyly. “Tell me what you want,” he said in a low tone as he moved his mouth to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. “I-I don’t know I want–want more,” you whimpered as the hand that was in his hair came to grab at the pillow under your head.

Mark stopped his efforts on your chest and moved lower, using both hands to spread your legs as he appraised the heat between your thighs. “Poor thing. She’s begging for some attention, you know that?” 

Mark’s strong arms kept your legs apart as you squirmed under his touch. He placed light kisses along your inner thighs before he brought his mouth against your clit and sucked. Hard. You cried out in bliss as Mark continued licking, and sucking, swallowing your essence as you writhed under his touch. 

Mark's tongue worked expertly, flicking against your sensitive clit with a rhythm that made your body tense and shiver with every stroke. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you firmly in place as you bucked against him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure.

Your fingers gripped the sheets, your head falling back as the intense sensation built inside you, a fire spreading through your core. "M-Mark..." you gasped, your voice trembling as his mouth moved faster, the wet sounds of his tongue sending electric jolts through your body. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending you even closer to the edge.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, his hand slid up, teasing your entrance with his fingers before thrusting them inside, curling just right. The sudden fullness made you cry out louder, your hips lifting off the bed as the pleasure crested. His tongue and fingers worked in perfect harmony, pushing you higher, deeper, until the pressure inside you finally broke.

You shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as your body shook uncontrollably. Your cries echoed through the room, your thighs trembling around his head as he continued, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm until you were spent, breathless, and completely undone.

Slowly, he pulled away, kissing your inner thighs tenderly as you tried to catch your breath, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. Mark looked up at you, his lips glistening with your arousal, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he crawled back up to hover over you.

"That," he murmured, brushing a stray hair from your face, "was only the beginning." But the intensity of his gaze softened as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, leaving you breathless all over again.

You registered the sound of your phone buzzing, but with Mark on top of you, loving you, the edges of your mind fuzzy and melting, you willfully ignored it. 

For now, you were his, and the world outside didn’t matter anymore. Mark was different–but did it really matter to you all that much if it gave you the chance to be his? 

tags: @weeb-simp-11

[cassiebones]

nobody can convince me that agatha and rio wouldn't have had more children had nicky not died, had Death been allowed to have living, semi-mortal children. They only lasted like 50 years before their eldest was born. They would have continued to make more babies for the next three hundred and beyond. Every time one of their children is old enough to basically fend for theirself, Agatha feels that longing for a baby and Rio can't deny her.

It takes three or four kids before Agatha has a kid that looks as much like her as Nicky looks like Rio. When this child, Mari (short for Mariposa), reaches adulthood, she develops that same little gap between her teeth (in modern times, she would have gotten braces, but she was born in the late 1700's okay, give her a break) so she does look somewhat like Rio, but she has bright blue eyes and her hair curls like Agatha's. She also has a similar power set to Agatha, which Agatha fosters as much as she could because nobody ever did that for her.

By modern day, they probably have about twenty kids, the youngest of which is still small enough to carry as they move into Westview, acting like a modern lesbian couple. They are single-handedly repopulating the witch community that Agatha killed off.

But they're happy and in love. All their children are pretty well-adjusted. Nicky still has a big heart. He's probably a doctor somewhere, moving around when people start to question why he doesn't age - at least until Eternals are accepted and superheroes just become more commonplace. Nobody questions why he looks like he's thirty-five when he should be closer to his seventies (nobody knows what his true age is) and he still visits his mothers. Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't always appreciate when Rio visits him at work.

Three of their children train as Reapers with Rio. The rest are scattered around the world, living their lives, but they always call their mothers, or they visit with their own partners and children.

The youngest three are juveniles, so they live with their mothers in the suburbs. They're as mischievous as Rio, causing havoc wherever they go, but they're studious, too, like Agatha, so they get good grades and do well in their magic studies.

When Wanda tries to start her bullshit, Agatha stops her, putting a pin in her grief. Instead of draining her power, she becomes a kind of mentor to Wanda. This Agatha never lost her son, but she does have a shit ton of trauma from her youth resulting from her own coven just refusing to teach her, and she recognizes Wanda as another untrained witch. So she trains her. She teaches her how to use the powers that she's familiar with. She gathers other witches (Lilia, Alice, Jen) to help her where they can. They converse with Stephen Strange on how to best help Wanda in her grief and magic.

I really wish Agatha's What If...? episode had been "What if Agatha had never lost her son?" rather than the Hollywood episode. Don't get me wrong: it was a fun fucking episode. But I just wish we'd seen more of Agatha being happy with her family.