#and oh hi Marc :)

[lingerdingdong]

Marc Revelado Documentary clip and English transcript

[wombywoo]

nostalgia...

[telecommunikate]

marc bending over backwards to absolve alex lmaoooo

[azulonso]

another dog-coded bez picture i need to share with yall

[age-of-moonknight]

“Pool Party,” Moon Knight: Fist of Khonshu (Vol. 2/2024), #7.

Writer: Jed MacKay; Penciler and Inker: Domenico Carbone; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[repsolhonda]

“i saw marini and knew something wrong” vs “i had some bad luck because marc pushed me out when he tried to recover his position”

[icras]

ik he crashed and it was awful but the way he got back on that broken ass bike and still fought tooth and nail for basically nothing is so. important to me. hes got so much fight in him its so obvious how important just racing is to him

[ivystoryweaver]

i want to finish my new marc fic but i have to do The Things™

[moonknightblog]

It’s so hurtful to know that Marc still wanted to keep the loving part of his mother alive through Steven- despite everything she did, he still loved her that’s why it hurts so much to be abused by her…

[leclercskiesahead]

Carlos singing along to the mariachi at a Ferrari event

[moonshynecybin]

please just a window into your mind palace 🙏 how does vale react when marc gets kidnapped? how does he act and what lengths does he go to save him? what kind of measures does he take to make sure marc is never harmed?

it’s really more like. okay so i think the lever that drives the purpose of the story in all of the whump fic EYE read as a young teen was. hey what if this character gets KIDNAPPED and BEFORE they got kidnapped everyone was maybe perhaps taking advantage of them/under appreciating them/not realizing they were in pain (this attitude could be extrapolated from actual observed behavior in canon towards this character orrrr ENTIRELY INVENTED. doesn’t really matter. with marc it is. unfortunately very real in many ways from vale due to their biblical level estrangement) but NOW people get to freak out and realize how much they care about them and how much they love them and nurse them back to health while whiping blood off of their bruised, pretty face as the kidnapped character sort of gazes up at them in disbelief that a WORM like them could even be cared about enough to be gently touched. in many ways this is a fun scenario to think about with ROSQUEZ. because i think marc has internalized. okay vale doesn’t care about me. and i want him to be proven WRONG ! INCORRECT BUZZER ! and this is perhaps a batshit crazy enough lever to get vale a lil stressed. like it’s one thing to see marc vaulted through the air. they do that for work. AND vale doesn’t even like THAT. but. ransom ? kidnapping ? total marquez family media freeze out? not even a cryptic liar statement from honda to overanalyze or a shirtless selfie from a hospital bed to signal he’s alive ? homie is BUGGIN. he likes INFO he’s CURIOUS he knew every detail of marc deciding to ride on that arm in 2020 he pays ATTENTION. worry despite distance. and oh boy this is the supreme worry scenario.

so anyways the wheels are off we are doing old school fandom tropes because in real life i think vale like. just stays kind of quietly scared until he’s asked about it where he has to perform the most insane feat of mental gymnastics ever put to camera. but that’s not FUN !!! so marc gets kidnapped by uh. evildoers. not important. they only really beat him up in a hot way like on teen wolf. and vale finds out through a blurry picture of marc shirt kinda half unbuttoned and mouth duct taped and on the NEWS and he looks SCARED and TIRED and BRUISED and. not very much like himself. which is thing that puts a burning pit in vale’s stomach the MOST, and he’s pretending he doesn’t care he’s pretending it’s normal he’s pretending it’s about HIMSELF (what if someone was out there kidnapping generationally talented motorsports professionals uccio ?? he HAS to be checking the news obsessively for safety THANK YOU..) but he’s really so stressed. white knuckle grip on his composure. like vale is not sleeping not eating he’s refreshing the news story obsessively because he doesn’t KNOW anything which is the scariest part. he’s calling in every contact he can he’s traveling to spain he’s getting turned away at the marquez family door. he’s still DENYING THAT HES FREAKING OUT. and he’s MIA. uccio is like vale has also been kidnapped. vale is like shut up. please. i am fine.

now in no world do i think vale actually DOES anything effective to get marc back bc at the end of the day he’s just a noodle who can ride bikes good. sorry. leave that to spy aus and the like. but he TRIES and he FREAKS and when they get marc back (bruised and pale and thin. comes into the ER like. and when can i ride my bike again. fully in tears) he arranges everything so it goes as smoothly as possible and then he stays in the hospital lobby for a full two days bundled up on an incognito hoody like a weirdo. he’s just gotta see him

[therealraewest]

Lemire/Smallwood Marc Spector gathering his alters like ah yes I'm glad you could all join me. Steven. Jake. Me but in a spacesuit.

[age-of-moonknight]

“A Little Chaos,” Moon Knight Annual (Vol. 5/2024), #1.

Writer: Dan Watters; Penciler and Inker: Marco Renna; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[muxas-world2]

NOW THE MOST IMPORTANT PRICE IN THE MOTOGPBLR COMUNITY WHO IS THE BEST DOGY ON THE GRID THIS YEAR THE STAR THE IT BOY ??????

[writeraid]

Look at him. look at this morally complicated skeleton bird man. look at him. Or 'Khonshu! Because why not!'. I've got some other Moon Knighty stuff I've been doodling tonight but they don't really fit in with eachother so I dunno if they'll all be up tonight but at least you get this.

[isacksteban]

I Want You — Marcmarc

"Come on, Bez, you can do this." He mutters to himself under his breath, shakes himself out on the front doorstep and cards trembling fingers through his hair.

Heart in his throat, nervous.

Knocks on the door; mouth pursed in a moue waiting for it to open. 

Marc visibly starts when he sees him stood there. Frowns in confusion. "You forget your key?" He asks, huffing out a bewildered laugh.

And Marco gets it, because yeah, they both live here — the pair of them unable not to gravitate towards each other after that night in Jerez, making use of the old Bezzecchi family home, because someone should and they both know it's what Vito and Daniela would've wanted after moving out into a smaller place.

He's just not sure this is though.

Even if the idea of it, the possibility of what could be, is everything Marvo has ever wanted.

"No," Marco grins sheepishly, rubbing his arm. "I just — can I come in?"

"Uhhhh, yeah, 'course. This is your home too, Marco." His moustache, it's a new thing he's trying out, twitches as his mouth ticks up on one side, and he stinks of confusion, but Marc steps back and Marco steps inside; a dance between them that for ages had been missing the music. They both look at each other, the air in the scant space between them, taut and awkward — a place they’ve been trying their best to get away from and yet somehow they’ve ended up back here, all the same. "Soooo....what's up, Marco? Won't lie, I’m not really sure what's going on here."

He swallows; scrubbing a hand over his face. "Sorry about the confusion, I just — I need to speak to you about something, and I'm...I'm not exactly sure how it's going to go."

Marc sniffs; stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Alright," he turns on the ball of his foot and wanders into the living room. Marco follows behind him silently; no matter how nervous he is about how this is going to go, his shoulders still relax a fraction just from breathing in the calming scent of their shared home. Marc sits down on the sofa and Marco aches to sit next to him but he makes himself sit in the armchair just off to the side. 

His thumb twitches by his thigh with the urge to smooth away the sad furrow between Marc's brows, but it's necessary that he do this.

Sitting here means he won't give in to the urge to just drag Marc close and hold him so tight his bones creak.

Mainly because that's sort of how they got here in the first place.

That, and alcohol.

Because, apparently if him and Marc get drunk enough to let free their inhibitions, then they end up giggling like teenage girls while trying to brush their teeth, toothpaste smeared over their faces, and then they look at each other in the mirror over the sink, and the next thing they know, their toothbrushes are clattering into the bowl, and they’re kissing like feral beasts all greedy tongues and biting teeth and grabby hands pulling the clothes off their bodies, and before Marco knows it, he’s splayed out on the bathroom floor, legs spread like a wanton whore, and Marc in between them, shoving his big dick so far up inside his cunt, Marco can feel it in his throat.

Fucking him hard and rough and so fucking good, his eyes roll back and he comes with a silent scream, just as Marco spills hot and wet inside him.

And then the morning after happens with a lot of groaning and bleary squinting and a whole heap of we’re absolutely not talking about that, while they crawl out of the bathroom into their separate bedrooms, and spend the next few hours curled up under soft duvets, hiding from the reality in which they’d just fucked, and praying they haven’t ruined the relationship that they’d spent so long in the months since the crash.

That was three months ago.

And they’ve not talked about it, not even once.

The most was a straight-lined awkward smile at each other across the kitchen table that evening, and then it’s like they silently agreed not to mention anything. From Marco's point of view that was because he was terrified that if he started speaking to Marc about how incredible it felt to have him splitting open his pussy and fucking him so good he saw stars, then he might start babbling about how he was so down bad in love with him, that he couldn’t think straight, and then he’d run the risk of Marc not feeling that way about him, and losing one of the most important people in his life. Again.

He doesn’t know why Marc didn’t say anything though. Figures it’s probably a mix of regret and only maybe liking Marco physically and so not wanting to get into the whole emotions side of it, but as long as Marc was still in his life, Marco had been willing to accept the fact it would never happen again and carry on with his life — living with Marco and hugging him when he could (thankfully the older man didn’t tell him to stop doing that) and going to bed each night dreaming about them sleeping together under the comforter — his dreams, nothing so big as to be unattainable and yet feeling impossible all the same.

Life gets in the way of hastily and panic-induced put together plans though.

And so, he’s here. In the home he shares with the man he’s in love with, but not as a couple, just Marc and Marco, Marco and Marc, whatever that means, and feeling like if this doesn’t go well, then he might have to find somewhere else to live, maybe Mars.

The mere thought of not living with Marc anymore is devastating, it's an odd pairing but it works. They work.

But he can’t not say anything. He’s not that cruel.

Wouldn't deny Marc this. Or at least the option of wanting it alongside him anyway. If Marc chooses to do this with him, that is.

Marc clears his throat, and Marco snaps his gaze to him. Blushing, because he hadn’t realise he’d just been sat there staring at him for so ridiculously long.

”Sorry,” he whispers.

The Spaniard shakes his head. “What did you want to talk about?”

He rolls his bottom lip against the blunt edge of his teeth, and releases a slow breath. He can do this. He can. Shuffling forward, ass perching on the edge of the armchair seat, that little bit closer because he’s weak at heart, he wraps his arms around his belly and says, “so, I know we’ve not being talking about it—“ Marc stiffens, knows what Marco is going to talk about but not what he’s going to say, he doesn’t interrupt though, “—and I’d been, well not exactly happy about it, but I’d accepted that it would be easier, because we’re not that great at talking are we? Not really?”

Marco smiles ruefully; both of them aware that if they were good at talking they wouldn’t have been estranged in the first place. The whole 'Marquez crashed into me on purpose' thing only resolved after both of them decided to sit down and refused to move until they’d discussed everything, expunging all of the poison that had festered, to start afresh. But that had only been after they’d risked their lives and got high of adreneline, so he’s not sure how much congratulations should be aimed their way if he’s being honest. “But anyway, this isn’t really something that allows us not to talk about it.”

”What…I don’t think you’ve sat me down to finally talk about the fact we fucked three months ago, Marco.”

He barks out a laugh. “No.” He’ll give him that. “The fact that that fuck means I’m now three months pregnant is cause to sit down and talk, though, don’t you think?”

Marc's eyes widen and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Y- Marco, You’re pregnant?”

Marco hums, nodding. “I am. I’d been throwing up in the mornings and I took a test just to rule it out, because, well I’m not exactly a spring chicken.” He winces. “Sorry.” Marc doesn’t even react, he’s just staring at Marco like he can’t believe what he’s looking at. “But yes, I’m pregnant. It’s yours, obviously. And I guess, I wanted to speak to you to see what you wanted to do? With.. it?”

”Do?” Marc finally blinks. “Surely, that’s up to you, like you’re keeping it?”

”Yeah. Of course I’m keeping it. I mean, if you—“ he inhales, exhales. “Did you want to raise this baby together with me, Marc? Or did you just want to be on the outskirts, a family friend? An uncle? I’d like — my preference would be for us to raise the baby together.” Marco splays his hand over his still flat belly, swallowing down a laugh, because preference makes it seem like he’d be happy with any of the other options, when he wouldn’t, not really. “But if you think differently…”

Marco trails off, wetting his lips, still so fucking nervous.

Marc stares at him; for once those gold-flecked eyes were too murky for Marco to properly read. Marco looks back, because how can he not? Waits for Marc to say something. Anything. Even if it’s not what he wants to hear.

“I want to do this with you, Marco,” he says eventually; voice rough, rubbing his knuckles over his sternum.

”You do?” He tries not to let on how hopeful he sounds.

”Yeah. Us together, raising a little terror of a baby.” A flicker of a smile. “I want you to answer something for me though, seeing as we’re talking about this and all.”

He gulps, but nods. “Sure. Anything.”

“Did you not say anything about us sleeping together because you regretted it?”

Marco's mouth parts in surprise, because that hadn’t been something he expected Marc to ask. Not in the slightest. The fact that it mirrors Marco's own thoughts on what Marc could be thinking wasn’t lost on him though. When he takes a second to breathe past the shock, he lets the hope bloom inside him. Because maybe—

Maybe they could be a couple — exclusive — as well as raising the baby together.

And so, despite the fact they’re not good at talking, Marvo decides to just tell the truth. Take a leap of faith and give Marc the chance to catch him.

”No,” he says, feeling like he’s swallowed sandpaper from where his throat is dry with nerves. “I didn’t say anything because you didn’t say anything and…. and because I so desperately wanted it to be more than just a one time fuck — I wanted it — you — to be my every day life. I wanted, still want, you to be my boyfriend because I love you with every fibre of my being, and I said nothing that morning afterwards because I was scared that if I said something then you might say you didn’t want that and I’d lose you again, and that would just kill me.”

”You’re saying something now though.”

Marco huffs, smiling. “Yeah, well, it’s not just me who wants you in their life. I know our baby would want their other dad around, and I do too. I always want you around, Marc. So, I figured I’d take a chance. Try talking for once. See where it got us.”

Marc looks at him again, intense and indecipherable, and then he’s leaning forward, grabbing Marco's hand and tugging him towards him, so Marco has no choice but to collapse into him; legs sprawled out over his lap.

”Wha—“

”I love you, Marco,” Marc breathes out; cupping his face and tilting him so their lips brush. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. Been in love with you since you retired at the Spanish grand prix in 2017. I've loved you since I was twenty-four and I'm just now saying something, do you know how embarrassing that is? And I said nothing after that night because I was worried you thought it was a mistake when it had been one of the best nights of my life so far.”

”Oh. So you’re saying we’ve both been dumb idiots who should’ve sat down and talked three months ago, and we could’ve been fucking this whole time?”

Marc snorts out a laugh, nodding into the crook of Marco's neck. “Sounds about right for us though, so at least we’re consistent.” He thumbs at Marco's cheekbone, brown eyes filled with wonder now. “You’re really gonna have my baby?”

”I am. I take it we’re not just raising them together as two people that just so happened to fuck without protection on the floor in their bathroom?”

”Absolutely not. I’m gonna marry you. Hopefully within the next hour, really.”

“Oh, so I won’t make dinner then,” he drawls, feeling giddy inside.

”Nope.” Marc jokes as he pulls Marco closer, one hand on his waist with the other toying with his ring finger to emphasise the point just in case the Italian didn’t catch his drift. 

Marco's nose scrunches as he laughs, delighted even if the older man was being dramativ. “Sure, Marc. If that’s what you want.”

”I just want you, Marco.”

”And I want you too.”

”I can’t believe we’re having a baby together.” Marc slides both arms around Marco's back and hugs him tight. “I’m so happy, Marco.”

Marco holds him close and kisses his short curls. “Me too, Marc. Guess we both worried for nothing.”

”Yeah. I’m looking forward to fucking you now we’re both sober and somewhere other than the bathroom floor, now though.”

”Yeah. Something a bit classier, like a bed, might be good.”

Marc grins up at him and Marco can’t resist kissing that mouth soft and slow. “Hey, I bred you on that bathroom floor, it might not be classy, but it sure was a good time. And it gave us our baby.”

The Spaniard covers Marco's hand where it rests on his belly, and Marco smiles at him softly.

”And I’m not disputing that. I’m just saying the tiles aren’t good for getting a good nights sleep afterwards, is all. I’d much prefer my comfy mattress with you curled behind me.”

”When you put it like that, I’d prefer that too.”

”I thought you might.”

And then Marc stands, sweeping Marco into his arms sideways, and while his soon-to-be husband, aparently, and father of his unborn baby carries him up the stairs Marco has traversed so many times before, a big goofy smile on his face, and the scent of happiness thick in the air around them, he realises he had no reason to be nervous in the first place.

Funny how they can get what they want if they just try talking properly.  Who’d have thought, ey? They should probably try and make a habit of it.

Unlike fucking on the bathroom floor.

(that can be saved for drunken special, kid-free occasions in the future).