#Normal Barnacles

[kitkatyes]

octonauts head in hands

having the most violent thoughts about the captain so bear (hah) with me -> very much hand-wavy headcannon-y stuff so don't take what I say to heart <33

this man is so self-sacrificial and its shocking that none of the crew have mentioned it. like, he embodies the 'protect' part of their mantra-- this guy would jump in front of a bullet if it meant saving someone else

i like to think that hes very much faking it till he makes it; y'know, confident on the outside and emotional on the inside. he refuses to ask for help because he's The Captain. He needs to be strong for his crew and the sea creatures he aids in rescuing. this, in turn results in a very (un)healthy case of imposter syndrome

because of this, he pushes himself so much for no reason. like, he would be the last one awake in the evenings and the first one up in the morning. he shoves all his feelings somewhere deep in his mind and, y'know, refuses to think about them (we love emotional expression, don't we :D /s)

but like, hes also so soft spoken and sincere when it comes to speaking with his crew,,, he definitely remembers all their birthdays and likes to make an event out of them, much to the chagrin of some of the crew

and thinking of that one episode where they all go on vacation whilst the octopod is getting repaired and like,, even when he's trying to take a break from captaining, something goes wrong

my god, he deserves some time to just, not be the peak of responsibility. my poor little guy deserves to just, have a goddamned break and therapy-- a break and therapy sounds good, i am prescribing him right now, you hear !!

and like, how is he always so level-headed in every situation??? he's always got the perfect plan for everything in seconds. that does not sound like a person who DOESN'T overthink things. girl, i think you need to take a deep breath and break down for once, as a treat.

anyways, manatee episode is prime example of this (i am so normal about that i swear <- clawing at the walls of my enclosure) one, how didn't he get hurt?? like he definitely should have. two: he should have, y'know, ASKED FOR HELP TO GET OUT OF THAT STUPID CLAM !! and, i don't know TOLD EVERYONE WHEN HE WAS RUNNING OUT OF OXYGEN??!

its like, he very much is putting the manatee's well being above his own but, girl, PLEASE be selfish for once. i love how much he trusts his team but, like, was he embarrassed?? he shouldn't be because HOW many times have the others been stuck somewhere? and like, they're all so compassionate and WOULDN'T make fun of him for it at all

did Tweak even know that the gup A got struck by lightning???

and oogh, jellyfish bloom episode. more evidence of his self-sacrificial nature because like, he gets hurt AND still goes out to help them like its nothing. the prevention of kwazii and peso getting stung being the CAUSE of the injury.

oh yeah, you're not getting out of it that easy, fictional polar bear who i harbour a deep nostalgic and emotional attachment to

[splat-details]

Marlin Airport

[calamaroo]

Mountain Man Barnacles after he joined the Octonauts and got cleaned up (to an extent) :

Apparently I didn't have any motivation for big drawings this morning (i was playing minecraft), but eh, maybe later

Me when M.M.Barnacles :

I like him a little bit

[laurelhach]

just learned about parasitic barnacles and would like to unlearn about them 👎

[hershelwidget]

guys idk i think this might be the captain

hey side note has barnacles seemed happier lately? yeah i think he’s just smiling a lot more. good for him

closeup of his big ol grin because he put a lot of effort in. he brushed his teeth and flossed just for this photo guys look at that award winning smile. hey does anyone else feel dizzy and li

[sherlockhomolmes]

oh fuck OFFFFFF

[thalassic-p4rk]

some silly little man doodles of the silly little man!!!!!!!

design inspired by @abipork2-0 bc yes.

[ornithological]

cackling goose (branta hutchinsii) foraging with barnacle geese (branta leucopsis), ireland

[1o1percentmilk]

i started crying at the beach because i remembered how ugly suzuki was in the manga

[waywardsalt]

i dont imagine bellum would need help cleaning off any barnacles or seaweed particles that might get stuck on him while he travels through the ocean. he probably just doesnt get to them right away. but i think he wouldn’t mind if linebeck cleaned them off for him. he could probably get phantoms or whatever to do it if he wanted someone else to do it but maybe the way linebeck does it and whatnot makes it nice. maybe in post ph some of the other crew members might do it but linebeck would probably do it the most

[flwrkid14]

Always excited to see you post!

If it’s not too much trouble, could we have more Dad!Tim or Tim raised by Danny?

Love your blog!

oh tysm anon!! here u go <3

It starts weird.

Which, considering Danny’s life, tracks.

He doesn’t plan on adopting a traumatized billionaire’s emotionally neglected child detective. But Tim shows up one day—scraped up, exhausted, eyes like dead stars—and Danny just. Offers him soup.

That’s all.

Not a rescue. Not a battle. Just soup, and a blanket that smells like ghost dog fur, and a “you okay?” asked without expectation.

And Tim, for whatever reason, stays.

It’s not immediate. Danny doesn’t even realize what’s happening at first. Tim starts coming by after patrol, sometimes with bruises, sometimes with files. Sometimes just to sit on the couch and watch garbage TV while Danny does dishes.

Danny, for his part, starts setting out extra food. Starts asking if Tim’s eaten. Starts dragging him to bed when he falls asleep face-first into schematics.

And one day, Tim brings his laundry over. Danny blinks. Tim blinks. They never talk about it again.

There’s a moment.

It’s small.

They’re in the kitchen. It’s 2AM and raining. Danny’s slicing fruit for no reason and Tim’s doing… something with string and duct tape. He’s muttering, hair sticking up in all directions, wearing one of Danny’s hoodies like it belongs to him.

And he says, absently, "Thanks, Dad."

Silence.

Tim freezes. Danny blinks. They both look at each other like they’ve been caught doing something illegal.

Danny says, “...You’re welcome.”

And that’s it.

No one dies. The world doesn’t end. Tim just blushes, mumbles something about the blueprints, and goes back to work.

After that, it’s different.

Danny picks up on it first. The way Tim gravitates toward him in crowded rooms. The way he asks for advice, then pretends he didn’t. The way he lets Danny fuss at him about food and sleep and schedules, even when he’s grumpy about it.

The way Tim lights up when Danny praises him. Like he’s still that little kid who wanted to make someone proud and stopped expecting it a long time ago.

What Danny finds most intriguing, is noticing how Tim starts becoming one of those quiet, velcro kids.

He doesn’t cling. He hovers. Moves around Danny like a satellite—close, watchful, drawn in by gravity. Always sitting just a little too near on the couch. Always finding a way to lean against him when tired. Always relaxing when Danny’s hand ruffles his hair without asking.

Danny catches himself more than once with a Tim-shaped barnacle attached to his side, both of them pretending it’s completely normal.

And honestly? Danny doesn’t mind.

Tim's always been a little starved. But now he has someone to curl into when the nightmares come. Now he has a home, not just a place he sleeps in between battles.

Bruce notices it too.

He notices when Tim stops calling the manor “home.” When he starts redirecting all his mail to Danny’s apartment. When someone asks who Tim’s guardian is, and he doesn’t hesitate before saying, “Oh—Danny.”

Not Bruce. Never Bruce. Not anymore. Tim doesn’t even seem angry about it. He just… moved on. Bruce tries to pretend it doesn’t sting.

Danny doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He’s not Bruce. He’s not a Wayne.

He’s not rich or trained or qualified. But he sees Tim, really sees him, and maybe that’s enough.

Maybe Tim didn’t need another mentor or mission.

Maybe he just needed someone to say: "You don’t have to earn love. You already have it." And mean it.

Danny does. Every day. Even when Tim forgets. Especially when he forgets.

Because the thing is—Danny remembers.

He remembers the first time Tim let himself laugh, unguarded and loud. He remembers the night Tim fell asleep mid-sentence, curled into the corner of the couch with popcorn in his hair. He remembers every subtle shift, every quiet moment of trust.

And he knows—deep down—Tim might never say it again. But he doesn’t have to. Danny already is. Dad, that is. And he's not going anywhere.

[garbean]

Happy Valentine's, here's some stobotnik valentines cards through the movies, tried to edit some dialogue to make it more valentines-y but honestly I barely had to edit some of them

Some small details under the cut

The to and from parts change over time along with their relationship:

For robotniks cards:

Stone goes from Barnacle → Agent stone (as Robotnik starts to appreciate him more) → Stone (as he becomes robotniks equal)

Robotnik goes from You know (doesn't want to tie his name into anything and it's also just his usual sarcastic remark) → God (for obvious reasons) → Robotnik (They're equals but saying Ivo seems too personal for him, or at least too soon. Ties his name into the card also)

I tried to make the handwriting for his second card more unstable/insane though I don't think I did it very well. His last card he uses the same pen as stone.

Stones cards:

Robotnik goes from Dr. Robotnik (Formal, normal) → Doctor Ivo Robotnik (Stone didn't know if he'd ever get to write his name again. The handwriting is somewhat shakier.) → Ivo (Yes yes we get it they're equals)

Stone's stays at agent stone for the first two mostly because he doesn't really develop anything in terms of how close they are. It's stone in the last one just because he starts to know that they don't quite have the same superior-henchman relationship.

Honestly the quotes don't have much behind them, I went for dialogue instead of pick up lines just cause why not and so it would be more stobotnik-y. The last quote Robotnik has though is fairly aromantic coded just for my own indulgence. I did struggle with stones quotes as most of them are "sir you're magnificent" "you're basic" "are you afraid of g-ghosts?" "sir you're back!" Which are very difficult to edit. That's more or less why his first card is more of a response than a quote

Stone ends up developing the same smile as Robotnik over time, and he's a lot more expressive compared to the second card because he becomes more comfortable. (The first card is an outlier for obvious reasons)

[hershelwidget]

yeah this is exactly the difference between the three crews. Alternate Crew is depressed and bargaining with Inkling to let them go back to the Octopod safely, Beta Crew out here living their best lives before they inevitably implode, and Player Crew can’t go 5 minutes without the Cha Cha Slide

[floatmeintothesun-2]

Wildfire

pairing; Mark Grayson x f!reader

tags: Smut, aphrodisiacs, , wc 3.9k, doggy style, oral sex (m and f receiving) cream pie, soft mark Grayson, mark gets in there :p, established relationship

tw: none

Quick summary; Mark comes to your place late at night, desperate and needy from the effects of an aphrodisiac (the result is a difficulty to walk afterward)

—

You know there’s something wrong the moment Mark raps desperately at your window. 

It’s been a long week and you had been looking forward to this – pampering yourself with a long everything shower and splurging on soft store-bought gelato while you binge trashy shows off of the internet with your trusty laptop. 

 Mark floats outside, looking agitated, eyes tracking you with unwavering intensity as you draw closer. When you open the window, you can see that he’s unnaturally flushed, sweat beading on his skin despite the chill outside. He looks a little worse for wear, but overall, you can’t see any glaringly obvious injuries.

As soon as you open the window he’s climbing inside clumsily, surging toward you with a desperate sound. 

“Baby, I – shit, got – got hit with something outside,” He stutters, stumbling over his own words and he practically plasters himself to you and goes limp. You nearly go down with him, having not expected to be saddled with 210 pounds of alien boyfriend. “I don’t – feels weird.” Mark looks at you pleadingly and you grow worried. Is he concussed? It takes a lot to actually hurt him, and for a second, you wonder if someone threw a cruise ship at him again.

He’s being pretty handsy too, squeezing at your hips, ghosting his lips over your cheek and forehead. Normally you wouldn’t mind – you’d welcome it, really, but right now, your main concern is whether or not Mark is injured somehow.

“Mark? What’s going on? Are you hurt?” You ask frantically, placing a hand on his cheek and he groans, leaning into your palm. His head tilts down, forehead meeting your shoulder as he trembles minutely, hands smoothing down your ribs and squeezing at your hips. Your breath hitches as he drags the tip of his nose over your neck.

“No, nonono, I just – I feel hot, wanna feel you, s’like it’s burning me up from the inside,” He slurs against your pulse point, lips pressing to your carotid artery, feverish in its temperature. Mark is almost crushing you to his chest as if he can’t live without your skin on his, as if he’s trying to open up his ribs and tuck you into the space next to his heart. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated so much until you can just barely see that gorgeous warm brown you love so much. “Fuck – I’m so hot. Feels better when you touch me.”

Your jaw drops as he nuzzles against you, disbelief and incredulous shock surging up inside you. Are you serious? This sounds like a corny freaking romance novel. Is this really a – 

“Mark did you get shot with a freaking aphrodisiac??” You ask, hardly believing it as Mark pauses in his relentless marking of your neck. God, you’re going to look like a tiger mauled you or something tomorrow. He squints at you.

“Mmaybe. Robot mentioned something like that I think… I wasn’t listening. He told me to go blow off some steam.” He admits slowly with a shrug. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. “ Mark tries to kiss you again but you put a hand to his lips, making him sigh and lean into your palm.

“Hold up. Is there a way to fix this? Did Robot tell you to do anything else?” You ask and Mark wrinkles his nose

“Probably. Said something about physical touch and uh, sex.” He winces. “By the way, do you..? S’not necessary, I think. I was gonna ask earlier but I got distracted.” You blink at him, and he raises his eyebrows.

Since he's been off doing his usual saving of the world and other worlds in space and other other worlds in even deeper space, etc, you've barely seen him all this week. And here he is now, practically draped over you, stubbornly sticking to you like a barnacle. And while you've made do with your trusty vibrator, it's not comparable to the way he feels. 

Also, you've just really, really, really missed him. 

"I mean. I'm down. If it uh, cures you faster then it's fine with me." You reply, ignoring the way sticky heat pools between your thighs at the thought. God, you don't want to sound like a sex-deprived freak but you've been needing him for a while. Mark frowns.

"I don't want it just to be for me," He says in a clear effort to cut through the haze of incredible horniness that is undoubtedly clouding his mind. "If you're not comfortable– "

"Mark. I don't know how else to say this but if you don't do something in the next three minutes, I might jump your bones. What I'm trying to say is that I am willing. Very willing." You confess and he blinks. You blink back at him. Then he laughs and pulls you close, pressing his lips to yours with a relieved little sigh. You melt into him and Mark closes his eyes.

It starts off sweet, soft and gentle as Mark licks at the soft swell of your bottom lip as if asking for permission. It always does – Mark is, at his core, a wonderfully sweet, gorgeous person. But you’re greedy and he needs more, so you press closer, opening your mouth. He groans, his hands squeezing your hips.

Heat coils into your lower stomach as he swallows your moans and moves his tongue into your mouth. It’s messy and slow and when you press your hips against his, he makes a muted hiss of pleasure, fingers tightening on your skin.

It’s easy to follow his lead as he presses closer, your head growing fuzzy as you belatedly remember that you do eventually have to come up for air. You tap the side of his arm lightly and he pulls back, not even out of breath but looking equally as wrecked as you feel. His eyes rake down your body, taking in your soft skin, your figure covered in nothing but a fluffy white bathrobe, smelling of his body wash — smelling like him.

“Bed?” He asks desperately and you nod. You don’t know if the aphrodisiac affecting Mark is contagious but you feel yourself getting embarrassingly wet after a few kisses and you’re pretty sure Mark’s halfway to just grinding against you like a cat in heat. He scoops you up easily like you weigh a couple of grapes and you blink — only to find yourself nestled in bed a second later. 

Mark is already on top of you, somehow halfway done with taking off that stupidly tight suit that shows off his impressive musculature and toned body. He peels off the legs of the suit quickly, kicking it off and leaning down to kiss you again, and again. The noise of quiet relief he makes when he rips away his jockstrap may very well be the most ridiculously sexy thing you’ve heard.  Your hands are already grasping at his pecs, squeezing and pinching, drawing a muffled whimper from the freaking alien currently in the process of divesting your robes from your body. 

“Shit — baby, take this off, take this off now, please,” he begs, fiddling with the knot you’ve tied at the front of your robe. His hands are clumsy and you reach down to do it yourself, figuring that it’s a little unfair to have Mark be the only one naked here. Once you manage to open it up and toss it away, he’s palming at your tits, leaning down to pop one in his mouth while the other is squeezed gently with his other hand.

It feels like fire, his searing tongue drawing circles around your areola and you whine, eyes squeezing shut as a hand comes down to find your clit. It takes a couple of tries but Mark locates the little bead and uses the pad of his thumb to swipe over it, moaning desperately into your skin. There’s a hot coil of bliss building in your gut, tight and expanding with every moment Mark keeps his mouth on your tit.

“Mark — oh god, I’m gonna — nnshit, I’m gonna cum,” you warn shakily and he whimpers at your words, pulling off your breast so he can kiss you messily. It doesn’t quite land and he ends up kissing the corner of your mouth but it’s fine, you don’t care, not when his thumb is rubbing figure eights on your clit. 

“Cum, then, I wanna see you. Wanna see your pretty face when you cum on these fingers,” he murmurs against your cheek, and you nearly sob when you feel a thick finger press against your cunt. Your hips buck as he drags his sopping finger in and out, curving and hooking against your g-spot, the palm of his hand fixed to your clit. “You feel so — so wet, baby. M’gonna add another, okay?” He says, and you nod frantically.

God he feels so fucking good, the stretch is unimaginably delicious as he adds another finger, pace unrelenting as he pumps his digits into your dripping cunt. It feels so much better than your own fingers, thicker and longer, able to hit that one gummy spot inside of you that makes you keen. It’s almost blinding and you tremble as a tidal wave swamps over you, overwhelming and hot like a freaking supernova.

Mark kisses your stomach, nearly reverent in the way he maps a path of wet open-mouthed kisses down your abdomen. He pulls his fingers free from you and pops them in his mouth absentmindedly like he barely even thinks about the motion even though just the sight of that makes you almost cum a second time. 

“So pretty, so so pretty.” He mumbles, dragging his tongue across your inner thigh. While you blink stars out of your vision, he leans down, gently scooping your juices up with his tongue and swallowing them, tracing the outside of your pussy and cleaning you up with the single-minded focus of a man on a mission. You tremble through the aftershocks as he presses a shaky kiss to the hood of your clit.

“Fuck, Mark.” You breathe, carding a hand through short fluffy black hair and bringing him up so you can kiss him. He tastes like you – faintly tangy, slick and he hums quietly against you before drawing away.

“Good?” He rasps, and you nod, cupping his jaw and cheek with your hands. He closes his eyes briefly; if you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was calming down. He’s still sweating though – burning hot and so, so needy even though he’s trying to hide it. 

“C’mere, pretty boy,” You croon, reaching down and gently curling around the base of him. He’s silky to the touch and thick, and no matter how often you do this, you’ll probably never stop wondering how you’ll take it. He whines, bowing his head until his forehead meets your shoulder, hips fucking into your palm as you press your thumb to the head, rolling back the foreskin there. “I got you, took care of me so well, baby. I’m gonna take care of you now. Just relax.”

He makes a ragged sound, shuddering as you pump him slowly, his face screwed up in pure relief and bliss. You push him back gently, guiding him until you’re on your knees and he’s sitting back, legs spread. His cock twitches in your palm, practically dripping like a leaky shampoo bottle. The sounds he’s making are heavenly, and you mentally resolve to keep them locked away in your mind forever.

You kiss his tip, working your way down with teasing little sucks and licks until you’re at the base, hand gently working at his balls. Mark draws in a ragged breath, trembling as you mouth at his cock.

“Stop– Don’t tease me please, baby,” He hisses, his hips bucking up when you drag your tongue along the underside. “Oh fuck –come on, feels so good…” 

You obey, if only because he’s starting to look desperate, and you can tell he’s halfway at his breaking point. He’s wonderfully thick, filling your mouth with a satisfying heaviness and Mark throws his head back with a long, drawn-out moan. A hand settles on the back of your head, thick thighs framing your body as you inhale through your nose and go deeper. 

“God – shit! Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck, keep going, uh huh, just like that. ” He rasps, digging his hands into your lovely bedsheets. It’s a bit rough – his hips keep jerking up into your hot mouth even though he babbles out apologies hastily afterward, and his cock drags a bit too far every so often but fuck, it’s good. You don’t know if you can cum from just sucking dick, but if anything, you know that you’re well on your way to finding out. He sounds so out of it already, his voice quivering as he pushes you down further, just a little bit. “Nn– oh god, oh god, you’re so good for me, so good to me. Shit, is that the back of your throat?”

You take the hint, inhaling and swallowing until you physically can’t anymore, jerking off what you can’t fit in your mouth with your hand. With the other hand, you play with your clit, moaning muffledly and Mark swears, no doubt feeling the vibrations from your voice. You think he’s still talking, having always been pretty vocal while fucking you into the mattress or buried in your cunt, but you can’t really make it out through the sound of you messily choking on him.

You can feel him shift above you, the grip in his hair tightening slightly. 

“Oh fuck are you — “ He cums. A lot. You gag, having not expected it and a strangled, low sound erupts from Mark’s chest. You swallow what you can, astounded by the sheer amount as your boyfriend hisses swears and unintelligible gasps.

You swirl your tongue around the tip one last time to make sure he’s done before pulling off of him with a slight pop. He looks wrecked, hot and sweaty, thighs still spread wide. His fat cock is still hard, flushed at the tip and leaking slightly. God, you’ve never met a man with a prettier dick than Mark. 

While he blinks listlessly at the ceiling, you busy yourself with suckling at his balls, rolling and massaging the skin gently as he finally manages to regain lucidity. 

“Baby. Fuck, so — you’re so good. So good.” He mumbles, and you can feel the embers flickering in your lower stomach at his praise. Two strong hands gently pull you up, and you find yourself situated in Mark’s lap, complete with him peppering feverish kisses to your neck and face.

“How do you feel?” You ask and he closes his eyes.

“Like I just had one of the best orgasms in my life. Also super horny. Like. I just — can I fuck you now? Please?” He asks desperately and you look down at his cock. It’s still hard. You’re not sure if he skipped the refractory period all together or literally just got over it super fast. That’s probably an effect of the aphrodisiac. Also holy fuck.

“Jesus. Yes. Please.” You manage, and he kisses you again, soft and gentle as he lays you out over your bed. It feels like reassurance — a quiet reminder. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

“Gorgeous.” He mumbles, crawling on top of you and wrapping a hand around his swollen cock. Mark braces an elbow over your head, giving himself a few short pumps before grinding the tip of his dick against your clit. You nearly cry as he just keeps rubbing against you, slick and hard and you want him inside now. He is smearing pre cum over your clit and while it feels so freaking good, it’s not what you want. 

“Mark — please.” You whisper and he presses a kiss to your stomach.

“Okay. Okay — I got you. I got you.” He murmurs, notching the head at your pussy and slowly pushing inside. You squeeze your eyes shut and inhale tightly through your teeth as you feel the first inch or two squeeze in. You’re probably wetter than the Niagara Falls right now — courtesy of Mark fingering you and eating you out + whatever slickness that was there beforehand but god, the stretch is still intense.

“Crap. Fuuuck.” You hiss and Mark kisses your brow.

”Need me to stop? Too much?” He asks worriedly but you shake your head immediately. 

“No. No, I’m okay. Feels good. God you feel good, Mark.” You groan, and really you’re not lying. He makes a low sound, deep in his chest, pressing his forehead to yours as he slowly bottoms out. He feels so thick inside of you, hot and right and so utterly addicting that you can feel your eyes roll back into your skull.

“Oh — nnnfuck. Feels so — so fucking tight, so pretty, baby, pretty girl, you’re so s— sweet, god,” Mark babbles senselessly. You feel so warm, almost like you’re molded to the shape of his cock. You’re made for him, he’s made for you, fuck, Mark wants nothing more than to just stay here in this moment, wrapped up in you. You’re whimpering breathy little noises he doesn’t even think you realize you’re making, but they sound so fucking nice.

You open your eyes, grabbing at his arm and squeezing. 

“Mark — please, want more,” You’re looking at him with those big eyes, pleading and he’s not going to say no, he’s never going to say no to you. 

He squeezes his eyes shut. It feels overwhelming — but in a good way. Overwhelming in a way that Mark is addicted to, wholeheartedly. Soft, so soft, warm, your hands are on his shoulders, he can feel your chest rising and falling as you breathe —

Fuck, he has to move. 

Slowly, mind numbingly slowly, he drags his hips back, before fucking back into you. It’s gentle, for now. He doesn’t want to do too much too soon, even though his blood is singing for him to just fuck you, hard and fast, the way he knows you like. It sends burning bliss up the length of his spine and his hands travel down to your hips, hands squeezing at the squishy flesh there. Soft. So soft. 

You shudder beneath him, and your thighs try to close from where Mark is nestled in between them. He holds them open and inhales shakily, praying that whatever self-control he has left will carry him through the night. He keeps his thrusts gentle, no matter how much this goddamn aphrodisiac wants him to fuck you straight into the mattress. It’s slow and sticky, sweat clinging to his body — he doesn’t know if it’s his or yours but honestly, he can’t find it in him to care about it for all that long. 

You can’t really think straight. It’s torturous, this slow pace, but it feels so goddamn good at the same time. His cock is angled perfectly to hit that one soft fleshy part inside of you that makes you see stars. He’s everywhere, lips on your neck, hot and searing. You dig your nails into his biceps as he gives a particularly devastating thrust. 

“More?” He asks breathlessly, and you swallow down a whine, nodding quickly. He leans down to kiss you, long and sloppy. You think you might fucking pass out as he begins a much more punishing pace — it’s unforgiving as bliss spreads and blots out everything you can possibly register. “Look so pretty when you take this cock, huh?”

Mark just keeps fucking into you, hard and fast, deep. The small little whimpers and moans spilling from his mouth should not sound that good but god, they do. Sweat beads down his brow and you can actually feel his cock twitch inside of you. It’s hot and sweaty and you’re pretty sure your brain is halfway to leaking out of your ears as molten lava sears pleasantly through your veins like fire. 

Mark just keeps talking, but you can’t make out the words through the sound of your hips slapping against his. You think your bed is rocking with the force of his cock driving you into the goddamn mattress and he hisses a loud swear, pulling out. 

You only have a moment to mourn the loss before he flips you over and slips his cock back inside, bracing his hands on your head besides you. This is how you know whatever self control he was holding onto by a thread has completely snapped. He plants a hand on your hip and drags you back onto him while fucking back into you brutally. 

The way his balls slap against your clit and the feeling of him practically rearranging your insides, you’re not sure you’ll survive this. You think you’re drooling onto your goddamn pillow but you can’t really tell. The only thing you can think about is Mark’s thick cock pounding you into your bed, his hand on your hips, his searing touch. It’s so good, so goddamn good and if you weren’t currently chock drunk, you’d make sure to tell him. 

But your mouth isn’t quite forming words and you can only sob into your pillow, feeling his pelvis smack against your ass. And honestly, Mark isn’t doing much better. The way your tight little pussy clenches around him makes him almost cum on the freaking spot. He knows that he’s not going to last much longer, and judging by the way your thighs tremble, you’re not either. 

“M’gonna make you cum okay? Gonna take care of you, pretty girl, j— just hang in there with me, I got you. Wanna feel that pretty pussy cum on this cock, come on baby,” He whimpers, closing his eyes as the tidal wave of insurmountable pleasure crashes over him and you cry out, arching your back as you cum. 

Mark swears, loudly, as he feels you clamp down on him. He doesn’t even try to stop himself. Doesn’t try to hold anything back or skim off his orgasm by his fucking teeth or something. His hips stutter. 

Hot, sticky cum pulses into you as he groans weakly, his moans growing high and loud. It’s nearly never ending, the soft sweetness of complete bliss overwhelms him, rendering him inconsolable in it’s wake. You can feel him fill you up and you can only gasp quietly. Mark shudders for a second, then pulls out. You wince at the feeling of his cum starting to drip out, pearly beads sliding down your thighs. 

You collapse into bed and Mark lays himself out on top of you, moving slightly to the side as an acknowledgment to your need to breathe. He doesn’t seem like he wants to move any time soon, turning you over so he can see your face. 

“Hi.” He smiles. You smack his arm weakly with a little laugh.

”Hi? That’s the first thing you say to me after you’ve fucked my brains out?” You ask and he shrugs, still glowing, still grinning happily at you. 

“I think — I think I’m good now. Hopefully.” He says and you blink as you remember the whole reason this started. 

”Feel better?” You hum and he kisses your cheek, wrapping an arm around you tightly.

”My metabolism burned through it, I’m pretty sure. Hooray for Viltrumite genes.” Mark mutters and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. He draws the blankets up over you and him, kissing your forehead, then the tip of your nose. 

“We still gotta clean up, Mark.”

”I know. We can take a shower together. For efficiency purposes.”

”…Sure. For efficiency purposes.”

—

guys I swear I’m not abandoning Miguel I’m gonna write for him soon trust 🙏

[galaxymagitech]

Oh no. This is so much worse than Tim thought.

Bruce is attempting to parent him.

At first he’d thought he’d messed up on patrol, or that Bruce thought his new Young Justice friends were a security risk, or even that Bruce was just having a toxin-induced fit.

But no, this is a genuine, 100% sincere attempt at parenting.

The problem is, Tim already has a parent. Bruce knows this. Tim knows Bruce knows this.

And Bruce is, well, Batman, and the majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises. He has better things to do than parent the random fourteen-year-old that insisted on clinging to his life like a barnacle or a really stubborn mold. And Batman is Batman. He’s too cool and smart to be all mushy and parental to anyone.

It could be a test. Batman is fond of tests. Tim had to pass a lot of tests to become Robin. But Tim’s spent over a week trying to figure out exactly what Bruce is testing, and he’s still drawing a blank.

So, not a test.

That leaves one alternative: Bruce has been replaced by someone who’s convinced that a) Bruce Wayne is parental, and b) Tim Drake is his son and not just the kid he adopted for a few months out of convenience.

Dick doesn’t believe him. He keeps saying this is a “good sign” that Bruce is “returning to normal.” Which is obviously ridiculous. But that’s fine. Tim will just have to prove it.

(Canonically, Tim probably didn’t stalk Batman until Jason’s death. He only knows the post-Jason Batman and the Batman from news clippings. Sure, Bruce loved Jason, but…Batman is serious. Batman is the night. Batman is vengeance. Why is Batman trying to hug him and help him with his English essays?)

[littlestpersimmon]

Guy with cataracts and scarred from an explosion has a fail toymaking shop in front of a rundown temple and he has a crush on a disfigured lowly priestess whom he suspects is a stealth trans guy because she always picks the boy option when they play board games (he’s right btw)

He's from Kalantiaw, but his mom is diaspora, and I thought her to be half "Japanese" (coded) - still trying to figure out how japanese ethnicities come to play.

She was a sailor turned pirate. She didn't know the language spoken in Kalantiaw (more akin to Khmer), and she spoke a different language (more austronesian), and she named him Kahilingan, which means "wish". But in Kalantiaw, where she settled, his name means "curse" or "bad omen" 💀 it doesn't help that her life ended with the beginning of his. So.

Kahi spends much of his life chasing the image of his mom and trying to.... live up to her- because sailing is the most esteemed occupation in their world. Only very very very very very few people have managed to work on "dragonships".

Basically, their world is physically broken (like living on an asteroid belt) and they sail to and fro each sundering / country on specialized stone ships called "dragonships" / "bakunawa"- and the ships themselves are semi-alive? They're like.. Stone ships laminated with the spirits of devas and dragons and other great beings who have all died because of (redacted).

Anyway, his mom, Maaya, was a renowned sailor- she tamed a dragonship that was imbued with an infamously wild dragon called Duksa- Dragonships are Sponsored, but those who sponsor the ships are almost never in command, and they also easily lose ownership to their hired captains- because the ships themselves are sentient, and they never obey anyone who they deem are incapable of commanding them. Only Maaya could control Duksa hehe. So she became known throughout all their world as this wild woman who loved fast boats and only accepted voyage commissions "if they are very fun". Anyways blah blah blah she fell in love w Kahi's other parent (who is nonbinary) and she got pregnet with him. And they eventually settled in Kalantiaw, in it's countryside near the subterranean capital (Kamharik).

Kahi always annoyed his other parent abt his mom because he too wanted to meet Duksa, but his parent kept warning him not to go near the ship because after Maaya died, it went even more mad with grief. Kahi more of an engineer than a captain like his mom, but his goal was simply to acquaintance with Duksa rather than actually captain her. But Duksa did not accept anyone, not even anyone who was part of Maaya's original crew.. Kahi went to an apprenticeship on shipbuilding-

he became somewhat popular for being clever with his hands, and all around Kalantiaw, everyone thought of him as reliable and very creative when it came to problem solving. So he went from normal ships to fixing dragonships.. ..

The Greatest dragonships are ones that are imbued with the spirits of actual ancient dragons and qilin, bc some are imbued with "lesser" dragons or false dragons, and some are with non-dragon albeit great spirits- like minor gods, wind spirits, phoenix,naga, etc etc..

Duksa was a true and great dragon, and Kahi knew that she was suffering from severe neglect, so all he wanted was to patch her up-

Everyone, every single one of Kahi's peers discouraged him, bc it is known that anyone who even approaches her is immediately kilIed by her; but Kahi, he is different. When he approaches Duksa, she was a shadow of herself, a ghost ship- She senses Maaya, and she even thought that Kahi was her at first- so she lets Kahi patch her big crabclaw sails, fixed her boilers and really tried to replicate how she used to look when Maaya lived.. and Duksa didn't know it wasn't her, because her eyes were covered in barnacles.. The "eyes" of a dragonship is its lodestar, and Kahi was purposefully saving it for last because he is frightened of what Duksa could do to him;;

But before that, Duksa spoke to him, joked like "ah beauty, what happened to you?! Your voice sounds like you swallowed a frog.. are you ill? Why did you abandon me?" Fhjsjs

"Why are your hands so gentle now? I want you to be rough!! Stop this at once! I am not old!"

But when Kahi started scraping finally at the lodestar, and he opened Duksa's eyes to the world once more, she cried in great anger because who tf was this intruder! And why did he carry Maaya's spirit with him !!!

Her entire deck creaked so hard the floorboards broke again, and she swayed her whole body so Kahi nearly fell from the lodestar;; he tried to reason with her, and it sort of mirrors how his mom tamed Duksa. She barrelled in head on and confidently, but Kahi was meek and gentle.

Eitherway.. an angry dragonship is like highly radioactive, its like being in a storm in a contained environment, and she started puffing steam- it's like microdosing being in fukushima; And she called Kahi a fool, he'll never measure up to Maaya, he will never be her- aaaah, but she didn't kiIl him. Maybe because she knew he was Maaya's boy. She warned him never to return, and tossed him into the open shallows. So, he was absolutely brokenhearted. He was 19.

~intense lonely lovestory between him and a closeted trans guy raised by mean transphobic priestesses in a cult the antithesis of a loving and wise lesbian death goddess occurs.~

There she is.. her name is Viharana Magayarin

Names-

Maaya's name is spelled a certain way in kanji, I want it to mean "True"

Duksa's name is Tagalog, it means "grief"

Kahilingan's name is tagalog- and it means "wish". Inspired from.. in tagalog, "curse" is a contronym of sorts- "curse" and "promise" is the same word ("sumpa")

Kahi's trans boyfriend's name is Tala, and it means "star" 😌