#but also. look me in the eye and tell me marcus isn't the type to 'why i OUGHTA-'

[odetodilfs]

THE ULTIMATE PEDRO BOYS RANK!

(ft. my own opinions)

This is a lil idea I had while talking to a friend and it started off with a top 5, but I decided to rank all Pedro boys here, but quite frankly, I love them all and it's just a miniature difference with each. NSFW mentions, but probably anyone can read. The list goes from top to bottom btw, my dumbass did it the wrong way round. I haven't watched some of the things some of these guys are in so just keep that in mind. Remember these are my own opinions and you're allowed to disagree with me!!

#1 Marcus Moreno

Now, he's not the most known, not the fan favorite, he's in the middle for fandom standards, but this guy is the cutest for me. Like I don't care how terrible the movie itself is I fell in love with that man his first second of screen time. He seems like the type to make breakfast for you in bed, he seems like the type to kiss you every morning, he seems like the type to be perfect. Also his world and situation is (considerably) more calm than most of the other Pedro boys, he's not a gun dealer, he's not in a world where a fungus has taken over, he lives a mostly normal life. AND COME ON, TELL ME THIS GUY ISN'T AS LOYAL AS A DOG. He's also a dad, and I love dads <3 With this, Marcus wins the #1 spot!

#2: Javier Peña

Javier couldn't score any lower than this. Sure, his life is considerably more agitated than Marcus's and he IS a huge manwhore... BUT I CAN FIX HIM!! I'd fulfill his dream of living in a ranch in Texas, I'd be his forever. He's also got that mustache and you KNOW he's good in bed, any position, Dom or sub, he does it ALL! And he'd also be hella protective of you too.

manwhore on #2

#3 Frankie Morales

He's so.. he's so adorable!! Frankie is just so cute and seems like the type of guy that would do it all for his partner. I just know his heart fills with joy when he sees you, his kid and him as a family. Why does he also seem like the kind of guy to verbally worship you and thank him every time he goes to sleep? I don't know, but even then, he's still so cute, (and probably good in bed).

Frankie Morales on #3 probably cause of my love for dads lmfao

#4 Javi Gutierrez

Goddamn, this man, this beautiful ass man, I'll never get over him, his puppy eyes, his everything. He's kind of like a more energetic version of Marcus, kind of, and he just seems super caring and adorable. I just know he wouldn't get tired of telling you how beautiful you look, how you're his world and that he loves you. When he gets tough he's also kind of cute btw.

#5 Pero Tovar

I'm not gonna lie... I'm guilty of having slept on Pero for hella long, but that's not the case anymore as he ends up #5 on this list! I see him kind of as a mix between Joel and Din. AND THAT SCAR, LORD...

I just wanna kiss this man all over and give him the loving he deserves. I also definitely see him taking out his weapons at anyone insulting you, he'd just be so in love with you.

#6 Joel Miller

Of course, the iconic Joel Miller can't be any lower than this, he's so adorable, like even if he's a mass murderer, he did it in the name of his daughter! Joel would be a very hard and strong man, if he has a soft moment with you, it means he plainly loves you and trusts you. And his brown eyes oh my god, and the greying hair, god, he's so amazing, I wanna take care of him. He'd be super protective and possessive of you too. Also he's a dad, of course lmfao.

#7 Tim Rockford

He's got cake, a hot ass mustache, shoulder holsters and a hot ass attitude with beautiful brown eyes. The only thing that kind of holds him back is the lack of a proper story, but that's amazing for fics as you don't really need an AU 99% of the time. I feel like he'd be really soft with his partner and constantly trying to make time for them and sometimes invite them to his office, he also seems like the type of guy to sneak behind you and give you hugs from behind .

#8 Oberyn Martell

A classic. Our slutty bisexual prince, who doesn't love that combo? We have canon confirmation that this man is good in bed too. I have the Headcanon that he's an amazing power bottom, but that's just me. I feel like he'd be super protective of you and constantly try to show his strength and attractiveness to you, even if you don't mean it, he'd definitely spoil you too.

#9 Din Djarin

Our little Mandalorian with social anxiety <3, I love him so much, he's so cute and I'm glad he got the ending he deserved with his child, (let me live in Nevarro with you and Grogu, I'll make you happy I swear). He's the definitely the protective type, and his patience is real short so it's best to not mess with you, Grogu or him. I feel like he'd have trouble taking off the helmet mainly cause he feels insecure that you won't like him.. but little does he know you're only gonna love him more, and eventually when he does do it, it's an amazing decision.

#10 Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

Now, Whiskey and #11 were a hard pick, I had a mental debate of who to put first, alas, Whiskey got #10. He's a cowboy, what's not to love? That mustache and his confidence, oh my god. His backstory makes me wanna comfort him so bad and just the reassurance, I feel like he'd also be extremely protective because of what happened with his ex wife and he doesn't want anything to happen to you as well. I feel like at some point he'd also like to become a father with you. Overall, so cute and probably good in bed as well.

#11 Dio Morissey

Oh my, it's certainly a switch up from the other Pedro boys. Much more blunt and dominant in general. But he's still super fine which got him the 11th spot. I know this man is extremely freaky in bed, and dominant as fuck too. Outside of the bedroom though, he'd give people death stares if he thinks they're looking at you weirdly and even if sometimes he's certainly quite strange, it has a certain charm to it don't you think?

The hot goth at #11

#12 Silva

Now, I was debating whether or not to put Silva here as Strange Way of Life isn't really out yet, but there's gifs of him, so I decided why not? This ranking will definitely go up when it gets released, as now I simply struggle to make head canons with him cause we know so little about him. I just know he's very passionate and would defend you so bravely. He'd do anything for his man and it shows, and the cowboy hat looks good. This cowboy can totally ride me!! He's my beautiful queer rep too, and I swear if I see fem reader fics of this guy my gay ass is jumping you.

#13 Dieter Bravo

Our favorite (probably bisexual) actor and artist, he's just so cute and cuddly, he'd give you the warmest hugs and cuddles and would constantly need reassurance that you love him which would be so cute. Physicality is his love language most definitely and his favorite way to sleep is with you both cuddling. He's also extremely funny which is just adorable, especially with his sassiness.

#14 Ezra

Our other little space boy <3, he's beautiful, even if he ends up losing an arm, but I'd still love him. He'd definitely recite poems to you under the stars and just come up with nicknames for you. He also looks so soft and looks like the kind to fall asleep in your arms while smiling. He'd always be super grateful to have you and will do anything in his power to please you.

#15 Comandante Veracruz

I feel like he's the super stoic and cutting guy who's hard on the outside but a softy on the inside, kind of like Pero Tovar in a different way. And I know if anyone lays a finger on you he won't hesitate to pull out the guns if he thinks it's enough. With you, he's super gentle, almost like another person but would grieve your touch. He also wouldn't mind using some of that aggressiveness in bed.

#16 Max Phillips

Now I know Dio scored high but he's an exception, but I'm missing the mustache or some facial hair. Even then, Max is still pretty hot and I'd let him feed off my blood if he wants to. He also has a funny personality which gets him far, he's also extremely dominant in bed.

#17 Marcus Pike

He's so adorable but I barely remember the mentalist and didn't watch the episodes he's in, I might rewatch it just for him. But he's really cute, I love their hair and the mustache so that gets him the places above the 2 down below. But he definitely seems like the type to praise your every move. If I knew him better he'd probably overtake Max.

#18 Maxwell Lord

Now... for starters I know literally nothing about this man cause I haven't watched WW1984, and the look kinda just isn't it... he's cute though, passable and probably uses cheesy pickup lines to make you fall for him. Also he's got a got a good ass so that prevents him from being last.

#19 Dave York

Now he's better in looks than Maxwell, but I literally can't think of any headcanons of him since I don't know this character at all in the slightest, so uh... sorry Dave York fans, he might rise in this ranking if I ever watch the equalizer... Ahhh! With this the list comes to an end, once again, I love all Pedro boys with tiny little differences but overall they're all amazing in their own right <3 I know I missed some like him in the Casillero del Diablo ad, but that kind of barely counts as a character considering he doesn't even have a name. Feel free to share your opinion in the comments/tags and please reblog this post!

[elisedonut]

What would you think of a mafia! Marcus x government agent!Percy ?

Idk I was in the shower and thought how their dynamics would be.

I thinks that Marcus would be the leader of a mafia and he tell his minions to kidnapp a government official that has a low profile but has his contacts for what ever reason (maybe info about their future plans? Idk!)

And then they bring Percy to him and he is just like frozen in place because "why is he so pretty?" But then he just continues and gives them like one condition, to not physically harm him bc he doesn't want to see him all bruised and bloody

Days go by and he starts to build an obsession and make Percy be in his office, maybe in his knees and just decide to forget abt getting info or want ever and just keep him for himself like a pet

This could be like noncon type or dubcon or just stocoldrom syndrom if it isn't one sided, but I think it probably be one sided, more tragic and kind of dark romance?

I though that maybe he makes Percy live with him as like a little house husband o'r as his trophy of some sort

I know the mafia world is like sock and twisted but I think it can be really cool to write like that. Really againsty and highly unhealthy relationship because*cough cough* one is held hostage

Idk if sex is involved, probably yes but noncon sex it not something really digestivable for some people.

How do you think it would work out?

Hi yes hi

Im late again Im sorry im bad at answering asks

but yeah you had me the moment you said Marcus looked at him and went "wait- Pretty"

this kind of vaguely reminds me of There's Rue for You by Mr_Customs_Man and i really like that one even though the Flintley isn't actually like the main point and it doesnt end well

But yeah for sure that concept can work but yeah would likely have dubcon which is so fun

Like thats such a fun concept

im kinda obsessed with it

i don't actually read a lot of Mafia!Au but from what i have read I do think Percy would make a LI for a mafia boss

also the idea of someone being like "I thought we were trying to get information out of him boss?"

just to cut to Marcus with Percy on his lap

Just that funny switch going from Percy being manhandled as he's grabbed to all of a sudden being given this giant cushy room but not being allowed to leave it

like he would be so confused and it would be so funny

also we already know that I'm weak to Percy being weak to people finding him attractive which this kind of au would have easily

even though unless Marcus outright says it it might take a minute for Percy to realize that's what happened

Also just immediate infatuation with Flintley is just so fun to me

Marcus locks eyes with him when his goons force Percy onto his knees in front of him and his brain is just immediately like "Oh"

and plans just change within seconds

very fun

[golemsmuse]

Myth in the Machine

Dr. Evelyn Voss wasn't the type to indulge in guilty pleasures. A professor of comparative literature and mythology at Berlin's prestigious Freie Universität, her life revolved around dusty tomes and the echoing labyrinth of the university library. Yet, nestled discreetly within her laptop, was a digital folder simply titled 'Diversions'.

Inside lay a motley collection of texts—absurd snippets of dialogue, stilted descriptions, and plots as intricate and ephemeral as soap bubbles. All of them bore the same watermark: 'Generated by OpenAI GPT-3'. For Evelyn, these weren't mere amusements; they were a clandestine research project. A scholar in the realm of myths and epics, she saw something startlingly familiar in the machine's output.

"It's all archetypes, isn't it?" She mused aloud to the indifferent silence of her office. "Like a Jungian fever dream churned out line by line... fascinating."

Her fascination was a dangerous, double-edged sword. The same colleagues who lapped up her lectures on Homer and the Vedas would likely cast a jaundiced eye on her current dalliance. The world of academia was notoriously wary of the nebulous, the experimental, especially when it involved a machine seemingly capable of encroaching on the hallowed domain of human creativity.

It was Marcus, her most promising doctoral student and teaching assistant, who smoked her out. A keen-eyed young man with an unruly mop of dark hair and a tendency to wax philosophical, he was also the only one granted access to the labyrinthine sprawl of her office. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

"Dr. Voss..." Marcus began, his normally eloquent voice hesitant. He hovered by her desk, his gaze flickering between the laptop screen and a printout he clutched in his hand.

Evelyn felt a familiar pang, the mix of irritation and resigned amusement reserved for when her students inevitably discovered one of her more eccentric interests.

"Yes, Marcus, it's precisely what it looks like," she answered, her tone deliberately dry. "AI-generated fiction. Intriguing, isn't it?"

Marcus blinked, the hesitation fading into genuine curiosity. "But, um..." He gestured helplessly at the printout in his hand, a mirror image of the digital document on her screen. "Isn't it wrong, somehow? To read, well... this?"

Evelyn arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Wrong, Marcus? Tell me, is it wrong to study the anatomy of a frog even if it's never penned a sonnet?"

"But, but these stories..." He gestured helplessly at the printout. "They're soulless. They lack that spark, don't you think?"

Evelyn smiled, a genuine one this time. "Ah, but the spark—the soul as you call it—isn't that precisely what we've sought to define, dissect, and replicate via literature for millennia? And don't forget the myths, Marcus. Weren't they born from mankind's attempt to narrativize the natural world, to tame the chaos of existence?"

She leaned forward, elbows planted on the antique desk. "Tell me, do you find anything in this... " She snatched the printout from Marcus, thumbing through the printed pages, " ...this machine-crafted tapestry that doesn't have a precedent in the oldest of epics, the folktales whispered around Neolithic campfires?"

Marcus shifted, caught off guard. "I suppose there are recurring motifs. The quest, the battle between good and evil..."

"And the flawed hero, and the wise crone, and the trickster shape-shifter," Evelyn continued, her voice taking on a strange, almost incantatory rhythm. "Tell me, Marcus, in this so-called 'soulless' algorithm, do I not see the bones of our most enduring stories? Do I not see humanity itself—its fears, dreams, glories, and follies—reflected back?"

That evening, hunched over a steaming mug of green tea in her apartment, Evelyn found herself scrolling through the digital folder with an unnerving sense of anticipation. AI fiction night. There was undeniable irony in it, she mused. Here she was, a scholar steeped in the classics, willfully seeking out tales conjured by a machine. It felt like an admission of defeat, and yet, fueled by her unexpected encounter with Marcus, she was strangely compelled to continue.

What unfolded was a familiar yet disconcertingly alien landscape. A knight errant, his armor dented like tin foil, quested for an artifact named 'The Crystalline Singularity'. He sought to save a kingdom whose name was a garbled string of consonants and vowels. There was a talking fox, a princess afflicted with a curse that seemed to involve both logarithms and the haunting refrain of an old pop song. Evelyn couldn't stifle a laugh.

It was preposterous, and yet... there was an echo of Gilgamesh in the knight's melancholic determination, a shade of Scheherazade's wit in the fox, and a sense of the inexorable, the tragic, in the cursed princess.

Scrolling down, she encountered a passage that made her sit up straight:

And the knight, for the first time, felt not fear, but the yawning abyss of something much older. Was it pity? Was it the echo of his own long-suppressed despair? Or was it simply a strange kind of kinship with the vast, unknowable algorithms that shaped the world around them?

Evelyn stared at the screen. There was an unnerving poignancy there, a raw vulnerability that felt disarmingly human. In that moment, the AI, with its mishmash of references, its broken syntax, became something else entirely—a mirror turned unexpectedly onto the reader.

Suddenly, an idea seized her. It was audacious, perhaps even absurd, but like the best of myths, the more she contemplated it, the stronger its irresistible pull became.

When Dr. Voss submitted a proposal for a new seminar titled 'From Algorithm to Epic: Mythmaking in the Digital Age', she knew she was courting professional controversy. The whispers began even before the approval arrived—a mix of titillation, skepticism, and the occasional outright scoff from the old guard of the faculty. Evelyn ignored it all. She was used to pushing boundaries.

The day her seminar debuted, the room was filled to overflowing. There was her usual flock of wide-eyed students, and something else: professors from the computer sciences, curious philosophers with unruly beards, even an avant-garde visual artist who was rumored to be integrating AI into her installations.

Instead of launching into the usual analysis of epics and folktales, Evelyn opened by asking her students to write a single sentence. It could be anything, she assured them: a memory, an observation, a snippet of overheard dialogue. The sentences were fed into an AI, and the machine, its digital mind armed with a wealth of literature and data, generated a story.

What materialized was bizarre, moving, and strangely insightful by turns. Evelyn's gamble, it seemed, had paid off. The room was abuzz. Amidst the cacophony of reactions, Marcus's voice cut through the din.

"But what does it all mean, Professor?" he asked, his usual diffidence gone. "These stories we created... are they art? Are they... alive?"

Evelyn smiled. "They are potential, Marcus," she said. "They are the echoes of ourselves, refracted and distorted. And when you spend enough time gazing into the abyss, sometimes it begins to gaze back. What we do with that reflection…well, that's where the true story begins, don't you think?"

(This story was written by AI.)

[dykefive]

(another) bite sized s3 trailer recap

[scenetocause]

Idk about you but I would sure like Norris / Fewtrell / Kodric to be given the emptyhalf words.

ok i guess

"You're unbelievable," Lando's laughing but he's like - it's the thing he does when he's actually kind of serious but he's playing it down, not his real laugh and it unnerves Max a lot.

"What do you mean?" He honestly doesn't know what he's done. Something, clearly; it's not bad enough that Lando isn't curled right up against him in Max's bed, Max's fingers threading through his hair and Lando's stupid palm tree necklace digging into Max's breastbone.

"You were flirting with Martin so much, oh my god."

Oh.

Well, guilty as charged.

"If my boyfriend didn't leave me at home all the time then maybe I wouldn't have to look at hot, uhm. Hunks." He's got past the word 'boyfriend' in his list of mental blocks but it's very hard for Max to sort of think of himself as gay beyond Lando. He's not really sure he is but then, Martin is pretty hot and so tall, too. Like Jake, who's also pretty hot and ok maybe he just... has some sort of very specific type. He should try checking out Marcus next time they're in the gym to see if it's all drivers or just specifically the idiot ones.

Lando pouts, curling more round Max. "If you'd actually ask instead of, like - you know I always want you there. Anyway, I guess Martin's kinda hot."

Oh. Oh, Lando isn't complaining, he's fantasising.

Except Max's self-esteem isn't as secure as Lando's, clearly and so what he says is. "Hotter than me?" And his voice sounds pathetically small.

"No." It's not possible to actually hear someone rolling their eyes but Max thinks he can. "You're - and mine. But y'know, for someone else he kind of is."

Lando presses an unusually tender kiss under Max's ear. "You're still my big boy."

"Jesus-" Max ineffectively swats at Lando, who's already successfully limpeted onto him and just holds Max tighter, peppering him with kisses. "Fuck off. God."

Max mumbles "I love you, Bob" into the bumps of Lando's spine when they've rearranged to big and little spoon, a few minutes later.

-

Nothing happens because why would anything happen. Martin's straight and if Max and Lando sometimes work it into their dirty talk, the idea of one of them getting fucked by Martin while the other one's watching then, well. Look. They've said that about, like - Lando has a weird crush on Niall from One Direction and sometimes it comes up, it's just a fantasy, it's fine.

Until Tom opens his stupid mouth and Max is gonna edit him for Insta again, he swears to god.

"Who'd you have in a threesome, if you could have anyone?"

"Martin," Lando says, without even looking up from his phone while he's posting some jpgs.

It's at the same time as Connor says "Dua Lipa" and Jenny hits him with a cushion but someone definitely heard because several people follow it up with what?

Lando glances round the table, unfazed. "It's be Martin, we've talked about it."

Max can feel himself turning blotchy crimson. "Mate, you can't just say things like-"

"Really?" It's only fair that Martin, himself, asks.

"Yeah," Lando is totally unbothered, tucking himself back against Max's shoulder and taking a sip of his drink, the only tell that he knows what he's doing the way he's suddenly glowing with that weird, malicious energy he gives off sometimes. "It'd be hot. Y'know, you could fuck Max or-"

Collective shouting around the table manages to preserve Max's honour and stop him having to find a way to murder the man he loves the most of anyone in the world. And that's kind of the end of it because they get into fuck, marry, kill with the characters from Friends but none of them can remember what half of them are called and shots dissolve the rest of the conversation.

Until Max is wobbling to the bathroom, a little while later and wondering where Lando's gone. He probably might have noticed Martin was gone, too, except that he's been studiously trying not to make any kind of eye contact with the bloke for several hours, so it's easier not to think.

Except that Martin is suddenly right up in his space and Max nearly trips over his own feet. "Uh - hello, what Lando said, like, just, ignore him it's-"

He's shocked by Martin shushing him. Realises Martin's shirt is unbuttoned all the way down, tries not to fixate on the trail of hair down from his belly button but looking up from that means he's staring into Martin's eyes.

"I didn't mind," Martin's accent makes it soft, voice deliberately gentle. "It's kind of cute."

Max doesn't have time to squirm, before Martin's hand is on his jaw and his sweaty palms are on Martin's chest to steady himself and the main thing he registers, when Martin kisses him, is Lando's shrieky laugh of glee much too close by.

"I knew it," there's the sound of a shutter closing, a photo that better not make it to the internet. "It is really hot."

[milazka]

not the greatest feeling ever | 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝.

the less i know the better masterlist

main masterlist

summary: fuck it, i’m not doing a summary, i’m so bad at it. oh! there’s smut btw.

warnings: smut, cursing, mentions of blood, underrage drinking

last thought: i’m proud of this one, took me a lot of time to write, but i think it was worth it! enjoy your reading! love, milz.

─── ° • ❀ ───

The gentle breeze twirls her golden locks in all directions. She hums the lyrics of You never can tell, having watched Pulp Fiction for the hundredth time last night. Her irises are fixed to the slightly damp roadside covered with fresh fallen leaves from this morning rainstorm. The last rays of sunlight caress her baby-like skin as they disappear into the horizon, painting the sky in a mixture of orange and rose. 

“C’mon grandpa, you’re slow as hell!” she teases Marcus, turning her head back to stick her tongue out at him. Standing on his skateboard, he sends her the finger, scraping the pavement with his over-used black vans to gain speed and eventually catch up with her. 

“That’s how the turtle won the race, dumbass,” he gently nudges her shoulder with his hand as he rides his board besides her. She gives a sharp turn of the handlebars to move her tires out of the sand and back on the pavement, giving him a death glare. 

“I almost fell in the ditch, shithead!” he simply laughs, his head falling backward. His dark colored hairs, normally slicked back, are ruffled by the warm September wind, giving him a laid back look that fits him perfectly. She adores hearing his laugh; it's one of the purest and most delightful sounds. It was only recently that she heard him laugh again, having not heard it for months after the day they lost the third musketeer of their trio. It was one of the hardest moments of their lives, but sharing this kind of experience brought them closer than ever. Charlie was there for him when he hit rock bottom, stroking his back while he cried on the shower floor, freezing water running down their damped bodies. She was also by his side the first time he went to therapy, soothingly squeezing his hand before he entered the office.

“If someone had to fall in a ditch, it would be me.”

“You know that Max and I made bet on how long it would take you to fall in a ditch?” she replies, checking his reaction at the corner of her cerulean eyes. He grins. 

“How much did you bet?” he curiously asks, one eyebrow arched. 

“Fifty bucks,” his eyes almost snap out of their sockets. He stops, stepping off his board.

“Fifty bucks?! That’s insulting, thought I was worth more than that,” he shouts as she makes a u-turn, retracing her steps, stopping in front of him.

“I’ll give you half of it if you wait ‘till June,” Charlie sarcastically says to him, elbows leaning on the handlebars of her bicycle. He caught a glimpse of light in her gaze; a twinkle of amusement he always finds in the corners of her softly crinkled eyes when she smiles truthfully.

“Deal,” he winks at her, drawing a small laugh from her slightly parted lips. He picks up Charlie's polaroid from the basket at the front of her bike, signaling for her to ride so he can immortalize the moment for her. Marcus knows she keeps those famous polaroids in an old converse box as a source of happiness; they're memories of moments she doesn't want to forget. 

He takes the little camera to his eyes, snapping a picture when Charlie turns her head to the side to look at him, smiling like there is no tomorrow. As the picture is slowly developing, he hears a squeal of tires and a squeal of surprise from the distance. 

“Fuck Charlie!” he shouts, running towards her as she sits, holding firmly her right forearm. His heart tightens at the sight of her painful face, her traits are torn by pain and he can see tears gathering at the corner of her squinted blue eyes. Marcus hates to see her in pain; he knows she's not the type to complain about anything so when he sees her azure eyes filling with water, he knows it's serious. 

“You got a few scratches,” he whispers, running his eyes over her legs and arms. “We’ll go to your house and clean you up, okay?” she nods, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Marcus tucks his skateboard under his arm, grabbing the handlebars and seat of Charlie's bike simultaneously.

─── ° • ❀ ───

“Hold still,” his hazel eyes are focused on the mid-depth cut on her forearm. His bushy eyebrows furrowed, giving him a severe, almost cold sober look. She takes a big gulp of the rich whiskey she borrowed from her father's secret stash. 

“Oh fucking hell!” she swears between her clenched teeth when the rubbing alcohol makes contact with the exposed flesh of her forearm. “That’s not the greatest feeling ever,” she whimpers, her forehead resting on his shoulder covered by his green olive shirt. 

“I know, angel, I know,” he runs his hand through her blonde hair, gently stroking her scalp in a soothing way. She keeps her head resting against his shoulder, holding back the tears that threaten to run down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m usually the one taking care of you,” he knows it refers as much to all the times he fell off his skateboard as it does to when he hit rock bottom when their friend passed away. Charlie isn't used to being taken care of; she has always been able to look after herself without anyone's help.

Crying is for the weak.

She swallows her tears, putting her mask back on with a slight smile.

“Your new neighbor saw me fall,” she changes the subject, pausing to take another gulp directly from the whisky bottle. “Great way to make a first impression,” a light laugh escapes from her lips, but she halts when she notices his gaze turning away almost discreetly. “What’s wrong?” 

Over the years, she has learned to read him like the palm of her hand; she knows he looks away to the left when he is hiding something from her and that he scrapes the back of his neck when he is embarrassed.

“I-I had sex with her,” he blurts out, avoiding her gaze while he still applies pressure on the bandage covering the wound on her forearm. 

“Holy shit,” her eyes widened, not expecting this kind of disclosure. “Wait, what about Padma?” 

“You know she is not my girlfriend, Charlz,” he sighs, finally sustaining her non-judgmental azure irises. It' s one of the things he likes about her; she never judges him and even if she did, he wouldn't know since she hides it so well. 

“Was it good?” she does not insist about Padma, knowing perfectly well that she is the first one to know. He doesn't answer, looking thoughtful as if a million thoughts are running through his head. He steals the bottle of alcohol from her, gulping down a few ounces of the throat-burning liquid.

“What aren’t you telling me, Marcus?” 

He shuts his eyes, exhaling loudly.

“I don’t know if I was good… God, I don’t even know if she came!” her heart tightens; he looks distraught and she knows that this is a big deal to him, after all, he just lost his virginity. He breathes heavily, his jaw as tightly clenched as his fists.

“Show me.” 

“What?!” he opens one eye, eyebrows furrowed as if he was questioning if she was being serious.

“Show me what you did, I’ll tell you if it’s good,” 

“You’re drunk, Charlz…I don-” he stops as soon as her silver rings coated hands grip the hem of his olive shirt, grazing the soft skin of his lower abdomen with her fingertips. Sitting on her knees, she brings her head up to his neck, pressing her lips against the skin. The feeling of her wet lips on his burning skin sends a shiver running through his spine. 

“I’m sober enough to remember everything and give you my consent,” she whispers to his ear and he almost moans when she slightly nibbles his lobe. Her hands slips to the back of his neck, forcing him to hover over her as she lies on her back.

Both his hands are lingering on the buckle of her belt, struggling to undo it. She clutches his chin with one hand, plunging her reassuring gaze into his. He looks nervous, his hands trembling slightly when he takes off her jeans. She presses her lips to his Adam's apple, feeling him tense up at first, but relax as she sensuously slides her tongue up to his sculpted jaw.

“A-are you good with two figers?” he nervously asks, his right hand resting on the edge of her panties. 

“Yes,” he hesitantly slips his hand into her panties, parting her legs with his other hand before sliding his index and middle fingers up and down her folds.  She can see him blush when an almost quiet moan escapes her lips at the feeling of his fingers inside her core. He pumps them in and out slowly, as if he was afraid to hurt her.

“Try to curl them in a ‘come here’ movement,” she demonstrates with her own fingers. He nods and mimics her actions, making her whimper under him. 

“That feels good,” she encourages him. “What did you do next?” she softly asks, rubbing her thumb against his cheek to sooth him. 

“Hum, well, we-um, you know, did it,” he says, blushing like a little child who just got his first kiss with the popular girl. 

“You didn’t go down on her?” she asks, looking quite shocked. He seemed clueless. “I mean, you didn’t use your mouth?” 

“Uh no, should I have?” 

“You boys really know nothing about female pleasure,” she sights. “Try watching lesbian porn next time, you will learn A LOT more,” He almost chokes, not expecting to hear this come out of his best friend's lips while his fingers are still inside her. They've always been comfortable with each other, but not to the point of talking about the kind of porn they listen to. The idea of her best friend watching porn and getting herself off almost made him cum in his pants.

“You do know what a cunniligus is, right?” 

“God, Charlz, I’m not five years old! Yes, I know what it is!” he exclaims, his ego lightly bruised by her question. 

“Well, show me then, playboy,” she challenges him, a cocky smile slipping on her lips. the alcohol going slightly to her head.

He pulls her to the edge of the mattress, kneeling at the foot of the bed between her legs. His lips kiss the skin on the inside of her thighs, sucking it until he sees a dark red mark appear. He gets rid of her underwear in the blink of an eye  before placing her legs over his shoulders. He darts his tongue out of his mouth, licking a long strip between her folds without giving her the chance to acknowledge what was going on. He stops once his tongue rests on the bundle of nerves, licking around it in a circular motion.

“Fuck,” she moans. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You really think I've never watched lesbian porn?” he teases her, biting the inside of her thigh, making her body jolt. He dives back his head to her core, sucking her clit into his mouth.

At leats he know where the clit is.

"Oh my god Marcus," she moans, squirming against his grip. He places his arm over her lower abdomen, pinning her body against the mattress. She can feel his two fingers sliding back into her core, the sudden feeling causing her hips to buck up against his face.  

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me, hun?” he praises her, fingers curling inside her just like she taught him. She could barely feel herself, letting out a series of high-pitched moans as Marcus tongue was working on her bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, her head pressed down against the matress. Her fingers tangle in his dark hair, tucking at the roots as she let out a cry, the euphoric feeling taking over her body for a moment. Marcus looks up to see her eyes shut tightly, her legs shaking on his shoulders. He can feel her core pulsating around his fingers as she comes down from her high.

He took a mental picture of her, engraving this moment in his memory forever.

─── ° • ❀ ───

taglist; @cognacdelights @ellegotohell @janedartist

[300iqprower]

Would you mind telling us more about pretender Brutus

Oh boy. @smiteblast442 you’ve really gone and done it now.

Cracks knuckles

SO

We all know this guy

Marcus Junius Brutus, of Shakespearean "Et tu?" fame, Roman politician and one of the leaders of the coup against Julius Caesar that took place on this site's favorite holiday. I really don't need to explain who he is or why he'd be a servant, but I'd love to see him in Fate as a way to hail in Rider Caesar or to at least finally give a serious story to Saber Caesar. This image in question is his denarius (basically a commemorative coin).

Except that's a lie. That was all a lie, in fact. That's not Brutus at all. Well, except, it is. But not Marcus Junius Brutus, nor his denarius. The famous denarius of Brutus would be THIS

The first coin in fact doesn't even have Brutus's head, it was that of a consul at the time who isn't remotely important to any of this. No, the first coin was minted by one Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus, the REAL leader of the coup against Caesar, and in many aspects the person many THINK Marcus was. Turns out, outside of Shakespeare Marcus wasn't that close to Caesar nor that important to the coup. Decimus, however, was both those things. There's this idea that Caesar saw Brutus as his own son, and that would be true...were it not people think that refers to Marcus. Caesar expressed both verbally and in writing on many occasions how he saw Decimus as his own son and possibly having formally adopted him. Caesar’s will even named Decimus as his second heir and guardian to any child of Caesar’s should he have left one behind. Not only did he know Decimus far longer than Shakespeare portrays Caesar and Marcus’s relationship, the real Caesar and Decimus were also even closer. What of the Shakespeare version IS accurate is that there were two key figures in the assassination of Caesar: Cassius, and [a] Brutus. In fact, it was Decimus who convinced Marcus to join the plot. And when Caesar had intended NOT to go to the forum due to his fear of the rumored conspiracy, who else but the man he saw as a son was arrived to put those fears at ease and convince him to attend that senate meeting? After the assassination, Marcus would in fact go on to be the one heralded as the usurper of Caesar, being a far better public speaker and quick to capitalize on a misconception that was present even at the time of the incident. But like in the rest of the story we all know, Brutus said a lot while doing nothing and achieved nothing of meaning as he trailed Cassius and both were eventually taken out of the picture by Antony (someone also particularly relevant to Fate Caesar btw...) meanwhile Decimus was made governor of Cisalpine Gaul but when he attempted to rendevouz with Marcus Brutus and Cassius as shit went down, he was intercepted by Gauls loyal to Antony and executed.

There's more to both Brutus' lives of course but those are the bits relevant to his status as a Pretender. This is not Marcus Brutus, this is Decimus Brutus living the role of both the man who betrayed Caesar and was later executed as the cycle of tyranny continued, and the naïve usurper who would be cornered into taking their life as they lamented their own idealism.

So, in other words, as a fate character the short version of their split identities are are that when he calls himself Brutus he’s Marcus and simply Decimius for his real self. Brutus is this "Oh woe is me, alas my friend Caesar" blah blah blah type always on about his unforgivable sin and wallowing in it but in a very disingenuous “look how noble I am” sense that is dripping with narcissism and hypocrisy, whereas Decimus is truly dead inside from the trauma that has amassed as he is forced further and further to live with the knowledge of what he did to a man who, no matter how tyrannical, thought him as much a son as Caesarion, and unable to ever forget the look in Caesar's eyes that day. He truly believed the ideals that Marcus was so quick to spurn when it suited his own rise to power, and thus had to live with the psychological consequences Marcus so easily skirted. Decimus is a man whose self worth died long ago and is now living for that ideal alone, willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the freedom of choice, even if it means giving up his own; I imagine he and Kerry would have a lot to talk about....

[albertasunrise]

Amateur Heist - Chapter 1

Summary: You know his name is Marcus Pike. You know he works for the FBI. You’ve seen him around the gallery the past week, or so. Thrown him longing looks when his back's turned but he's here for a reason, a tip that the gallery was going to be a robbed. What you don’t know is that you are about to get a lot more acquainted with him as his life will literally be in your hands.

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Hostage situation, Angst.

Relationship: Marcus x Reader

§

You know his name is Marcus Pike. You know he works for the FBI. You’ve seen him around the gallery the past week, or so. Thrown him longing looks when his back's turned but he's here for a reason, a tip that the gallery was going to be a robbed. What you don’t know is that you are about to get a lot more acquainted with him as his life will literally be in your hands.

The day started out like any other. You opened up the gallery as normal and busied yourself with cleaning and paperwork as you did every day. Your boss usually arrives around 9 with a coffee for you and he in hand, he never fails to bring you your latte with a single shot of Caramel syrup.

‘Good morning Sweet.’ He says with a smile as he hands you your to-go cup, pecking you on the cheek before heading to his office in the back.

Marcus doesn’t have a particular time that he arrives but he usually pops in around mid-morning to scour the CCTV footage and speak to you and your boss about anything suspicious that you may have seen. He’s always dressed down, never looks like an FBI agent and he explained that this was in case they were scoping the place. He didn't want to raise suspicion which was why he always enters from the rear of the gallery also as the alley made anyone spying on the place easier to spot.

‘I have a lunchtime reservation with Fiona today so I will be out until around 2.’ States your boss as he emerges from his office a little while later, iPad in hand ‘You think you’ll be able to hold the fort whilst I'm out?’

‘Oh, I think I’ll be able to handle it.’ You chuckle as you look around at the empty gallery.

‘Perfect!’ He exclaims before returning to tapping away at the tablet in his hand.

You busy yourself again after he leaves, busy typing up emails when the bell above to door dings, alerting you to someone entering.

‘I will be with you in just a moment.’ You say as you finish up a receipt for your latest sale.

‘You’ll deal with me now.’ A voice growls and you look up slowly to see a gun pointing straight at you.

You don’t know where the sudden confidence comes from but you manage to blindly dial Marcus’ number, knowing he was the last person you’d called on your work mobile to confirm something the previous day.

‘Step away from the counter with your hands above your head.’ He spits and you do as you’re told, your eyes fixed on his ‘Lock the door. You run, I shoot you.’

You nod, slowly making your way to the door and turning the key in the lock before turning back to face him. What now?

~

‘You going to swing by the gallery today boss?’ Asks Matt as Marcus walks into the communal kitchen.

‘I’m not sure yet.’ He replies, shrugging as he pours some coffee into this mug ‘It’s been over a week and there have been no hits on the gallery.’ He pauses to take a sip ‘Maybe we were given a bad tip.’

‘So you’re not even going to pop by just so you can see her?’ Matt asks suggestively as he wiggles his eyebrows at his boss.

‘Don’t Matt.’ He warns as he points at him.

‘Oh come on. I've seen the way you look at her.’ He states ‘Just ask her out. I’m sure she’d say yes.’

‘How would you know. My dealings with her have been nothing but professional.’

‘Because I’ve seen the way she looks at you when your back is turned.’ Matt finishes and Marcus feels a warm feeling wash over him.

Did you like him? He couldn’t deny that he had a rather large crush on you. He found you irresistible. You not only had a vast knowledge about art but you were also just as passionate as he was about it. His phone ringing in his pocket tugs him back to reality and he pulls it out to see your name flashing on the screen.

‘Who is it?’ Asks Matt quizzically.

‘It’s her.’

‘Maybe she’s calling to see where you are?’ He states, giving his boss a wink as Marcus answers.

‘Pike.’

He doesn’t hear anything initially and he wonders if you may have dialled him by mistake but just as he was about to pull his phone away from his ear he heard it.

‘Step away from the counter with your hands above your head’

Marcus’ face drops.

‘Boss, what is it?’ Matt asks upon noticing his bosses change in demeanour.

‘We need to get down to the gallery now.’ He states, hanging up the phone ‘It’s being robbed.’

In less than an hour, the gallery is surrounded, the whole street closed off as FBI and Police vehicles line the street. Marcus jumps out of his car and makes his way to the rest of his team that is eagerly awaiting his instruction and he glances inside to see you curled up against the wall as the assailant paces nervously.

‘We have both the front and rear entrance’s covered.’ States Alice as she nods at her boss in greeting ‘We don’t think he is aware that there is another way into the gallery. I think it’s likely that he’s new to this boss.’

‘Right,’ Marcus starts, looking down at the blueprint spread across the hood of Alice’s car ‘Matt and I are going to enter from the rear. If he isn't aware of it then we should be able to get in and subdue him easily. Alice, I want you and James to stay here and keep the local police instructed on what the plan is. If we aren’t able to get in then he may start making demands.’

‘You got it.’ She replies as she folds up the blueprint and makes her way over to a cluster of officers stood a little further down the street from them.

‘Right. Vest on. We’re going in.’ Orders Marcus and Matt nods.

As soon as they were suited up they were sprinting down the alleyway, Marcus pulling out the key the owner had given him and gingerly turning it in the lock.

‘Stay behind me.’ He says to Matt before opening the door and stepping inside, both of them watching their footing carefully as not to alert the robber to their presence.

Meanwhile, you have been made to move to the other side of the divide that sits proudly at the centre of the gallery and thats when you’d realised that this man wasn’t alone. There is two of them. You’d managed to keep yourself somewhat calm but you were starting to feel the adrenaline wearing off and your body had started to betray you. From the corner of your eye, you notice the storeroom door creaking open, your eyes growing wide when Marcus’s face comes into view and he raises his pointer finger up to his lips. You nod, just enough that he knows that you understand but not enough to rouse suspicion and then your gaze flits to the man across from you, you shut your eyes and pray for it to be over.

‘FBI, HANDS UP.’ Shouts Marcus as he jumps into the room, aiming his weapon at the man behind you, the only one he knows about.

‘MARCUS, WATCH OUT.’ You scream as your eyes shoot open and you see the second man aim his weapon at the agent.

It happens in a flash. Pike turns just quick enough to see his attacker before they pull the trigger, the agent hitting the ground with a loud thud. You look over at him, his face already painted in blood and he's blinking rapidly in what you assume is an attempt to try and clear his mind.

‘BACK UP.’ Shouts the man behind you as he steps closer to Matt ‘Back up or my partner here will shoot him between the eyes.' He spits as he waves his weapon at a dazed Marcus.

Matt did as he was bid, backing up with his hands raised in surrender. He glances at his boss, there's is blood and a lot of it. Marcus is laying there still blinking, desperately trying to make sense of what has just happened but all he could hear is a ringing in his ears as his vision starts to grey around the edges.

‘You tell your colleagues that we’ll have some demands.’ Growls, who you had decided must be in charge ‘If they aren’t met. These two die.’ He states and you lock eyes with Matt in a silent plea to save you ‘Now run along and tell them that we’ll be in touch!’

Matt turns and leaves, sprinting through the back door with Marcus’ attacker hot on his heels.

‘Make sure no one can get through that door!' He yells before turning his attention back to you, and then to the bleeding agent on the floor ‘You best take a look at that.’ He orders as he watches Marcus flop on the floor ‘He don’t look so good.’

You pull off your blazer and scoot over to him, pressing it firmly against his gushing head wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding. Now you were no doctor but you’d watched House. You know head wounds bleed a lot but do they normally bleed this much? You peel your blazer back a moment to get a better look at the damage and you gasp at what you see. This grabs Marcus’ attention.

‘That bad eh?’ He asks, his brown eyes full of fear.

‘No.’ You reply, shaking your head ‘Just grazed you. You’ll be okay.’ You lie, not able to bring yourself to tell him the truth. The bullet had grazed him alright but from the looks of it, it had fractured his skull in the process.

His eyes were starting to droop. You know that people with head injuries need to stay awake and so you shake his shoulder and you speak to him ‘You need to stay awake agent Pike.’ You urge, feeling tears start to sting your eyes ‘Just keep those pretty brown eyes on me.’

‘You think my eyes are pretty?’ He questions, smirking at you and you let out a breathy chuckle.

‘Yes.’ You reply with a nod ‘I think they’re very pretty Agent Pike.’

'Marcus.'

'Hmm?'

'Marcus.' He repeats 'Call me Marcus.'

~

‘Matt, what the hell is going on?’ Yells James upon seeing the younger agent sprinting across the street ‘Where the hell is Marcus? We heard gunshots!’

‘He’s been shot.’ Matt states as he leans heavily on the car whilst he attempts to catch his breath ‘There's two of them.’ One’s hiding just on the other side of that divide. He caught Pike by surprise, got him in the head.’

‘FUCK!.’ Yells James ‘He alive?’

‘He was when I left.’ Matt replies ‘They’re going to be calling with demands soon so we need to make sure someone's ready to take that call. He was bleeding badly so I’m not sure how long he’s going to hold out.’

‘Right grab Alice.’ James orders, motioning to the female agent ‘She’ll be our best bet at getting them out alive.’

~

‘How did you get into art.’ He asks, his eyes growing heavier by the minute.

‘Well, it's the only thing I'm any good at.’ You chuckle before noticing how cold his skins gone Shit he’s going into shock ‘I went to school in England where I studied for 6 years. Learned that it’s impossible to make any money selling work no one wants. Then I met Simon and he offered me a job here. What about you?’

‘Pretty much the same.’ He replies, shivering as he looks sideways at the painting on the wall beside you ‘Apart from the studying on England part. Discovered that I was also quite the detective and ended up working for the FBI Art Crimes Division. I hadn’t even known there was one till I joined.’

‘I’ll confess I didn’t either. It almost seems like something out of a movie.’ You say and he smiles warmly at you before his eyes slip closed ‘Hey Marcus no. Keep your eyes open for me.’

You can see he’s trying but he’s failing miserably and so you rack your brain for something, anything you can do to get his attention.

Then it hits you.

You lean down and press your soft lips against his, smiling when he gasps in surprise before kissing you back and letting out a small hum of approval.

‘Normally I like to be wined and dined first.’ He jokes as you pull away, his brown eyes sparkling.

‘Well how about we make a deal? You keep your eyes open for me and stay awake and as a reward, I will take you out to dinner.’ You say and he grins at you.

‘Are you asking me on a date?’

‘Maybe I am.’ You reply, returning his toothy smile with your own.

‘I’m supposed to do that.’ He mumbles, eyes starting to flutter again.

‘Well, you’ve had over a week!’ You exclaim and he chuckles weakly ‘I guess I’ve had to take matters into my own hands.’

He looks up at you through hooded lids, his smile, though weak, still spreading to his eyes.

‘Okay. I will on one con-condition.’ He stutters and you tilt your head in curiosity ‘I pay.’

‘Hmmm, I think I can accept those terms.’ You reply, smiling sweetly at him as one hand presses down your blood-soaked blazer to his head as the other cups his cheek, thumb rubbing circles on the soft skin there.

‘Then it’s a date.’ He chuckles before scrunching his eyes as the pain starts to filter through.

~

‘What are they demanding?’ Asks Matt, watching as Alice listens to the perps over the phone.

‘They want to walk out of there.’ She states ‘They haven’t taken anything and they won’t if we let them go without charge. They want a car and the promise that when they leave, they won’t be followed.’

‘Are they insane?’ Matt whisper shouts ‘One of them shot a fucking federal agent in the head!’

‘Well, we might have to concede to their demands.’ She states ‘Marcus isn’t doing well according to him.'

‘Headquarters aren’t going to just let them walk out.’ States James and Alice throws the phone down as she lets out an exasperated sigh ‘Well it's that or Pike bleeds to death.’ She growls ‘Which will it be?’

~

You notice that Marcus’ eyes are starting to slip shut again. His skin is now a scary shade of white and his breathing has become erratic. You know the warning signs for shock and he is definitely ticking those boxes. You also know he didn’t have long before his organs would start to shut down. It would most likely kill him before the blood loss.

‘Where shall we go on our date then?’ You ask, desperate to keep him with you ‘Now I don’t know about you but I live for Pancakes.’

‘I l-love p…pan-cakes.’ Your heart twists at how hard it is for him to speak now.

‘Well, I know this super cute little diner. Does the best pancakes.’ You state as you pull him a little closer to you ‘They do the Canadian special. Thick, fluffy pancakes topped in crispy chicken and maple-cured bacon. Of course, it's then drowned in maple syrup.’

‘S-sounds good.’ He says, his hand grabbing your forearm and giving it a squeeze ‘I think I'd like t-to try th-that.’

‘Well, then that settles it. We’ll go there for dinner and order two Canadian Specials.’ You declare and he gives you a dopey smile.

‘Then what will we do?’ He asks, his eyes a little brighter than before.

‘Then we can go for a walk. There’s a lovely park a little way down from there. They light up the trees at night, it's magical.’ You state and he smiles as he listens to you speak ‘Then you can walk me back to my apartment, I don't live far from there, and you can kiss me goodnight on my doorstep.’

‘I’d like that.’

‘Just a kiss mind.’ You state as you feign a serious expression ‘I don’t do any funny business on the first date.’

‘Noted.’ He replies, his laugh followed by dry coughing that makes him groan in pain.

When the pain settles a little he looks up at you again. That fear you’d first seen has returned and you feel your stomach twisting in knots.

‘I’m so cold.’ He states and you feel your blood turn to ice.

‘You just need to hold on a little longer.’ You plead, shaking him gently as his eyes slip shut for a moment ‘Come on Marcus, let me see those eyes again.’

He graces you with his gaze. Brow knitted together as tears start to leak from the corner of his eyes ‘I’m scared.’ He sobs and you swear your heart shatters.

‘There’s no reason to be scared, Marcus.’ You say softly as you rock him gently in your arms ‘You’re going to be fine.’ You state as you look up and your captors who are busy growling down the phone ‘Everything’s going to be okay. We're going to get out of here. Okay? Marcus?’

Nothing.

‘Marcus?’ You glance down and sob.

He’s lost the battle to keep his eyes open.

~

Chapter 2

[spacenintendogs]

marcus headcanons:

he has james' eyes. sometimes marcus' eyes will unsettle fox and marcus feels bad but fox always reassures him it's ok (marcus' eyes are a dull green, fox's are super bright)

marcus mccloud is a dumb jock. he's got the athleticism of a professional but damn sometimes he's a bit stupid

he's not like, a moron he just has a tendency to have those moments where he asks a question he already knows the answer to bc he forgot and then goes "OH WAIT NEVERMIND-"

*miles morales voice* hey

he can't flirt, just like his father 😔✊

tbh i hc him as a daddy's boy, he's also super close with his mother, but... fäther i can not click the book :)

starts up star fox again after graduating at the cornerian academy, finds himself under a lot of pressure to be like his father and fox absolutely hates that marcus has to go through what he went through

"marcus, you're not me, don't be me, don't compare yourself to me" "but... everyone wants me to be you"

marcus gets crushes very easily, and is very open abt it with his emotions, very obvious

he is an empath like his mother, krystal helps him channel it, figure out these emotions and what they are and how to deal with being overwhelmed in crowds

wishes he was a full telepath like his mother

can use a blaster and a staff, though he prefers hand to hand combat out of everything (marcus mccloud beats the shit out of u until u go 2 sleep asmr)

he's a very optimistic kid, unlike his father, marcus isn't the type to "go it alone" unless necessary. he's usually the one that has to call after his teammates and tell them to stop trying to be the hero every second, just do your job

marcus designed the great fox III with fox and krystal's help. they asked him how he wanted it to look and he said "i want it to look sick as fuck,"

not rlly but also yes.

his ears are pierced, wears earrings that match the beads in his mother's hair. he does get a cernian tattoo on both of his biceps

him, abigal, and skipper... three heroes to the rescue, team of tres to the top, US GO!! (sorry for the spongebob musical joke but yeah they're all good friends™️)

marcus is very sociable, very much an extrovert compared to both of his parents

he can not play video games to save his life

he can do those push ups where you clap inbetween bc yes

ik these are all mundane things but that's what i specialize in