#marcus butler imagines

[stabbyfoxandrew]

#14's Past

I finally got over the cringe so here I am with OC stuff again! If you remember, we left off with Fay joining the mob. If you haven't read Introducing #14!, you should probably go do that and meet my little guy before you read this. :)

Solo:

After working for the Butlers (Marcus' family) for a while, Fay garners quite the reputation. He handles pressure well. He's smart and quick on his feet. Though he hasn’t got a driver’s license, he’s a hell of a wheel man. He also does just as he's told and knows how to keep things under his hat. After Big Marcus (Marcus’s dad) insists on teaching him to shoot, they learn he's a crack shot. With such great qualifications, he ends up becoming a gun for hire. A freelance assassin, if you will. 

So he bounces around the country working for a lot of horrible people and becoming one himself. He goes by Ghost on the job— because he’s nineteen and thinks it sounds cool. (Loser. /affectionate.) His occupation gets his name out on various and numerous hit lists. Of course it's never his real name. No. He holds Aaron Farris close to his chest. No one but his ex teammates and the Butlers know him by that name.

Speaking of names, he's got plenty of them. A dozen aliases, carefully crafted by Big Marcus, kept stashed away in a binder. Every page details a different persona. He's got IDs tucked inside as well as reminders of how they act, speak, dress, etc. And the contacts he has for each of them. He's a very organized motherfucker. And he keeps this well guarded. It's his entire life. Or, lives. 

Swapping into a different persona is easy. Sometimes too easy. But it pays well. He can slap on a new accent and change his clothes and it’s like he was never there in the first place.

Familia: 

After a while, Fay hangs up his Ghost persona and starts doing other mob work. In doing so, he ends up earning himself a spot under Tony DiAngelo, eventually becoming his right hand man. Tony grows to think of him as a son, calls him Luka. (“Ya know. That’s what I woulda named my son, if I had one.”) Fay stays in Los Angeles for over a year, working for one of the biggest players on the west coast. 

Until the feds catch up to Tony and raid his building. He and Fay are in his office, in the penthouse when one of his sentinels comes to warn him. Tony tells Fay to take the fire escape and run. Fay doesn’t want to, but Tony tells him he’s ‘too goddamn young’ to get caught up in this. Tony pushes his wallet into Fay’s hands and tells him to get the fuck out or Tony will shoot his ass. (“You wouldn’t.”/ “I’d rather kill you than drag you to prison with me.”) So Fay flees down the fire escape, feeling like a traitor.

With his life ripped out from under him yet again, Fay sees no other alternative. He goes back to what he thinks he’s best at. Being quick and quiet, unknown. He becomes Ghost again and writes letters to his imprisoned father figure. He never gives details, just lets him know he’s alive. Signs them all 'Luka DiAngelo', a boy who never existed.

Settling Down:

By 22, Fay is tired.

He’s killed more people in the past year than he's spoken to. He's got no real friends left, only contacts. No family, only employers. He's been living out of seedy motels and storage units. He's got no stability, no one to depend on. And... He's starting to imagine things, hearing and seeing things that aren’t there. Haha. The pressure must be getting to him... 😅😬

One night after a job goes wrong in North Carolina, turns out killing a senator is pretty tricky, he hauls ass out of there and heads South. He gets as far as Columbia, SC, before running out of gas. That's when he coasts into a hotel parking lot and gets himself a room. He's scared to death and shaking, afraid he's been followed. That they're going to find him. That the man who hired him is going to kill him for failing. After sitting and watching the window all night, he decides he has to get out of this business. He has to. Before he cracks up completely.

After a few days of trying to decide what to do, he hears that Kevin Day is officially playing striker for the Foxes. If he could get a new start after his world fell apart, maybe Fay could do the same. After all, the university is so close. And he’s got money saved up. And it would be fun to watch Kevin play… So he makes a call to Big Marcus, asks him for a favor. Once he receives his new identification papers in the mail, he applies and gets accepted.

Okay! That's all for his past, unless anyone wants to know anything specific. Next post we'll be seeing Fay at PSU, perhaps meeting the Foxes... Also if you have any questions about this loser from my mind, please send me an ask. I will be so happy to talk about him!

fay's friends: @joanofexys @ordei @themundanemudperson @felixvanhuss (if you'd like to be tagged next time, let me know! and if you don't wanna be tagged anymore, let me know.)

[daimonclub]

Quotes and aphorisms on food

Quotes on food Quotes and aphorisms on food by various and famous authors and writers, ideas and thoughts to a well balanced diet and food philosophy to eat and live better. I will not eat oysters. I want my food dead - not sick, not wounded - dead. Woody Allen We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police. Jeff Arder A gourmet who thinks of calories is like a tart, who looks at her watch. James Beard Unbought feasts.  (Lat., Dapes inemptae.) Latin Proverb An anonymous man from the 16th century always used to say: "There are many important things in life, the first is eating, I don't know the others." Carl William Brown Hunger is a good cook. Author Unknown Tomatoes and oregano make it Italian; wine and tarragon make it French. Sour cream makes it Russian; lemon and cinnamon make it Greek. Soy sauce makes it Chinese; garlic makes it good. Alice May Brock Eating is touch carried to the bitter end. Samuel Butler One cannot think well, love well, sleep well, if one has not dined well. Virginia Woolf I would like to find a stew that will give me heartburn immediately, instead of at three o clock in the morning. John Barrymore Only the pure in heart can make a good soup. Ludwig Van Beethoven

Aphorisms on food Yogi ordered a pizza. The waitress asked How many pieces do you want your pie cut? Yogi responded, Four. I don't think I could eat eight. Yogi Berra Edible. Good to eat and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad, a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man, and a man to a worm. Ambrose Bierce The discovery of a new dish does more for human happiness than the discovery of a new star. Anthelme Brillat-Savarin I do not like broccoli. And I haven't liked it since I was a little kid, and my mother made me eat it. I am President of the United States, and I'm not going to eat any more broccoli. George H. Bush The healthy stomach is nothing if it is not conservative. Few radicals have good digestions. Samuel Butler I am not a vegetarian because I love animals; I am a vegetarian because I hate plants. A. Whitney Brown What most moved him was a certain meal on beans. Robert Browning I just hate health food. Julia Child Life is too short to stuff a mushroom. Shirley Conran Anybody who believes that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach flunked geography. Robert Byrne A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands. Lord Byron The right diet directs sexual energy into the parts that matter. Barbara Cartland

Aphorisms and quotes on food It is a difficult matter to argue with the belly since it has no ears. Cato The Elder For its merit I will knight it, and then it will be Sir-Loin. Charles II Thou shouldst eat to live; not live to eat. Marcus T. Cicero Although there is a great deal of controversy among scientists about the effects of ingested food on the brain, no one denies that you can change your cognition and mood by what you eat. Arthur Winter Food = joy ... guilt ... anger ... pain ... nurturing ... friendship ... hatred ... the way you look and feel.... Food = everything you can imagine. Susan Powter Bread that must be sliced with an axe is bread that is too nourishing. Fran Lebowitz Food is an important part of a balanced diet. Fran Lebowitz Inhabitants of underdeveloped nations and victims of natural disasters are the only people who have ever been happy to see soy beans. Fran Lebowitz More die in the United States of too much food than of too little. John Kenneth Galbraith Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly. M.F.K. Fisher Food was always a conduit in our family for storytelling, and it was a way for us to keep in touch and remember things. We're people that use food to keep each other together and to always cheer us up and make all of our days better. Rachel ray My favorite food city is wherever I happen to be eating. You know what they say, love the one you’re with! Pamela Anderson A crust eaten in peace is better than a banquet partaken in anxiety. Aesop The soup is never hot enough if the waiter can keep his thumb in it. William Collier The one way to get thin is to re-establish a purpose in life. Cyril Connolly

Salami Italian typical food To eat is human, to digest divine. Charles T. Copeland Square meals often make round people. Joseph E. Cossman I found there was only one way to look thin: hang out with fat people. Rodney Dangerfield Let the stoics say what they please, we do not eat for the good of living, but because the meat is savory and the appetite is keen. Ralph Waldo Emerson When a man's stomach is full it makes no difference whether he is rich or poor. Euripides Cheese is milk's leap toward immortality. Cliff Fadiman Roast Beef, medium, is not only a food. It is a philosophy. Seated at Life's Dining Table, with the menu of Morals before you, your eye wanders a bit over the entrees, the hors d'oeuvres, and the things a la though you know that Roast Beef, medium, is safe and sane, and sure. Edna Ferber I've been on a diet for two weeks and all I've lost is two weeks. Totie Fields Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly. M. F. K. Fisher Food has it over sex for variety. Hedonistically, gustatory possibilities are much broader than copulatory ones. Joseph Epstein I am not a glutton - I am an explorer of food. Erma Bombeck Food ... is the topmost taper on the golden candelabrum of existence. Donald Barthelme He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man: that he may bring forth food out of the earth; And wine that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart. Bible, Psalms The food here is so tasteless you could eat a meal of it and belch and it wouldn't remind you of anything. Redd Foxx One should eat to live, not live to eat. Benjamin Franklin More die in the United States from too much food that from too little. John Kenneth Galbraith God comes to the hungry in the form of food. Mahatma Gandhi It isn't so much what's on the table that matters, as what's on the chairs. W. S. Gilbert Meat eaten without either mirth or music is ill of digestion. Sir Walter Scott Mellow nuts have the hardest rind. Sir Walter Scott

Thoughts on the art of food Only dull people are brilliant at breakfast. Oscar Wilde We ought to know about our culinary past. Food and identity is terribly important ... I don't mean we should go out and eat historic dishes, but we should know what makes us different ... self-confident nations have that sense of where they come from. Tom Jaine What is food to one, is to others bitter poison. Lucretius Food is much better off the hand than the fork. Mario Batali You can't just eat good food. You've got to talk about it too. And you've got to talk about it to somebody who understands that kind of food. Kurt Vonnegut We need a quarter of the food we eat to live, the rest is used to fatten industrialists, advertisers, doctors and undertakers. (obviously for those dying of hunger the situation changes.) Carl William Brown Food - what is chosen from the possibilities available, how it is presented, how it is eaten, with whom and when, and how much time is allotted to cooking and eating it - is one of the means by which a society creates itself and acts out its aims and fantasies. Margaret Visser There is such a thing as food and such a thing as poison. But the damage done by those who pass off poison as food is far less than that done by those who generation after generation convince people that food is poison. Paul Goodman A gourmet is just a glutton with brains. Phillip H. Haberman Jr. As a child my family's menu consisted of two choices: take it, or leave it. Buddy Hackett A store of grain, Oh king is the best of treasures. A gem put in your mouth will not support life. Hitopadesa First rule of Economics 101: our desires are insatiable. Second rule: we can stomach only three Big Macs at a time. Doug Horton Most of us are either too thin to enjoy eating, or too fat to enjoy walking. Edgar Watson Howe A lot of Thanksgiving days have been ruined by not carving the turkey in the kitchen. Kin Hubbard A man seldom thinks with more earnestness of anything than he does of his dinner. Samuel Johnson He who does not mind his belly, will hardly mind anything else. Samuel Johnson He who cannot eat horsemeat need not do so. Let him eat pork. But he who cannot eat pork, let him eat horsemeat. It's simply a question of taste. Nikita S. Khrushchev Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may diet. Harry Kurnitz I judge a restaurant by the bread and by the coffee. Burt Lancaster The most dangerous food to eat is a wedding cake. Author Unknown

Quotes on food and wine Food is our common ground, a universal experience. James Beard The fact is that this generation - yours, my generation ... we're the first generation that can look at poverty and disease, look across the ocean to Africa and say with a straight face, we can be the first to end this sort of stupid extreme poverty, where in the world of plenty, a child can die for lack of food in it's belly. Bono The act of putting into your mouth what the earth has grown is perhaps your most direct interaction with the earth. Frances Moore Lappe Ask your child what he wants for dinner only if he's buying. Fran Lebowitz Food is an important part of a balanced diet. Fran Lebowitz If you're going to America, bring your own food. Fran Lebowitz Vegetables are interesting but lack a sense of purpose when unaccompanied by a good cut of meat. Fran Lebowitz I told my doctor I get very tired when I go on a diet, so he gave me pep pills. Know what happened? I ate faster. Joe E. Lewis If there were only turnips and potatoes in the world, someone would complain that plants grow the wrong way. Georg C. Lichtenberg Everything you see I owe to spaghetti. Sophia Loren Choose rather to punish your appetites than be punished by them. Tyrius Maximus It ain't what you eat, but the way how you chew it. Delbert McClinton You can travel fifty thousand miles in America without once tasting a piece of good bread. Henry Miller Never eat more than you can lift. Miss Piggy We are digging our graves with our teeth. Thomas Moffett Lunch kills half of Paris, supper the other half. Charles De Montesquieu No man is lonely while eating spaghetti; it requires so much attention. Christopher Morley You needn't tell me that a man who doesn't love oysters and asparagus and good wines has got a soul, or a stomach either. He's simply got the instinct for being unhappy highly developed. Hector Hugh Munro He that eats till he is sick must fast till he is well. Hebrew Proverb There is only one thing harder than looking for a dewdrop in the dew, and that is fishing for a clam in the clam chowder. New England Proverb

Vegetarian food pyramid Want to learn to eat a lot? Here it is: Eat a little. That way, you will be around long enough to eat a lot. Anthony Robbins We know that ever woman wants to be thin. Our images of womanhood are almost synonymous with thinness. Susie Orbach We may find in the long run that tinned food is a deadlier weapon than the machine-gun. George Orwell Strange to see how a good dinner and feasting reconciles everybody. Samuel Pepys Make food a very incidental part of your life by filling your life so full of meaningful things that you'll hardly have time to think about food. Peace Pilgrim He who eats alone chokes alone. Arabian Proverb It's better that it should make you sick than that you don't eat it at all. Catalan Proverb Don't dig your grave with your knife and fork. English Proverb A good meal ought to begin with hunger. French Proverb Appetite comes with eating; the more one has, the more one would have. French Proverb There is no such thing as a pretty good omelette. French Proverb Coffee should be black as Hell, strong as death, and sweet as love. Turkish Proverb When one has tasted it he knows what the angels eat. Mark Twain He who is a slave to his stomach seldom worships God. Saadi I have found it to be the most serious objection to coarse labors long continued, that they compelled me to eat and drink coarsely also. Henry David Thoreau There is nothing to which men, while they have food and drink, cannot reconcile themselves. George Santayana To eat is to appropriate by destruction. Jean-Paul Sartre Eating is not merely a material pleasure. Eating well gives a spectacular joy to life and contributes immensely to goodwill and happy companionship. It is of great importance to the morale. Elsa Schiaparelli He jests at scars that never felt a wound. William Shakespeare There is no love sincerer than the love of food. George Bernard Shaw

Ideas and quotes on food Seven's a banquet nine a brawl. Author Unknown Worthless people love only to eat and drink; people of worth eat and drink only to live. Socrates For much of the female half of the world, food is the first signal of our inferiority. It lets us know that our own families may consider female bodies to be less deserving, less needy, less valuable. Gloria Steinem Lunch is for wimps. Oliver Stone Man shall not live by bread alone. The Holy Bible Put a knife to thy throat, if you're a man given to appetite. The Holy Bible Much meat, much disease. Author Unknown Fang drops so much food on his ties we keep them in the refrigerator. Phyllis Diller Do not arouse disdainful mind when you prepare a broth of wild grasses; do not arouse joyful mind when you prepare a fine cream soup. Dogen A good, honest, wholesome, hungry breakfast. Izaak Walton Our lives are not in the lap of the gods, but in the lap of our cooks. Lin Yutang Find out more visiting these links: Good food for your diet (With Videos) Vegetarian food diets (With Videos) Thoughts and reflections on food Aforismi e citazioni sul cibo International and Italian recipes Enogastronomia e turismo Italian recipes, fashion and travels https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/collection/easy https://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes http://allrecipes.com/recipes/1947/everyday-cooking/quick-and-easy/ http://www.sjana.com/blogs/lifestyle/food-for-the-soul Cooking traditions in Lombardy, Italy Read the full article

[notsaints]

#NOTSAINTS [ . . . ] a highly private + permanent low activity multimuse. content on this blog may be triggering, including but not limited to prominent themes of religion, death, violence, etc. do not interact if you are not 21+. muse list under cut. also can be found at drdebt, furters, backrows.

₀₁ CARRD. ₀₂ VISUALS. ₀₃ USFW. ₀₄ BOARDS.

television:

matthew kimble, the new adventures of old christine. mid 20s. therapist. bisexual.

reverend monsignor john michael pruitt (father paul), midnight mass. actually 80 but appears 40 ish. vampire. bisexual.

rupert giles, buffy the vampire slayer. mid 40s - early 50s. librarian, watcher. bisexual.

eve polastri, killing eve. early 40s. mi6 agent. lesbian.

carlton lassiter, psych. 48. head detective. closeted homosexual.

shawn spencer, psych. mid to late 30s. psychic detective. bisexual.

lucifer morningstar, lucifer. immortal. the devil. bisexual.

mazikeen smith, lucifer. immortal. a demon. bisexual.

eve, lucifer. immortal. the first woman. bisexual. no fc.

simon ferguson, over the top. washed up actor. early 50s. bisexual.

rupert mannion, ted lasso. mid 60s. bisexual but extremely in the closet.

film:

spencer rabbit, carter & june. crime boss. 44. homosexual.

shilo wallace, repo! the genetic opera. housebound daughter. 17.

jack daniels/agent whiskey, kingsman. secret agent. mid 40s. bisexual.

mr. (john) boddy, clue. merely a humble butler. early 30s. unknown.

julian marx, upgraded. renowned british artist faking his death for better sales. mid 60s. homosexual.

originals:

marcus white: serial stalker, professional chameleon, general pos. early 40s. hamish linklater fc.

michael west: bastard who copes with abandonment issues & heartbreak with drugs & alcohol. generally slutty. ceo by inheritance. vampire. permanently 28. anthony head fc, but use your imagination.

by request (send me a dm first):

russell edgington, true blood. vampire. 3000 years old. homosexual. canon divergent.

beverly keane, midnight mass.

johnny laguardia, times square. nyc radio show host. late 20s. bisexual.

larry gormley, blue money. irish cab driver with dreams of stardom. mid 30s.

for more information about each muse, please see my carrd. questions are welcome at any time about any character.

[chanelfunnell]

Q@A Trevor Zegras

A) anon, yes Trevor Zegras is an overgrown baby on the skates, a showman playing his acts and stunts, a playboy but also incredibly playfull and creative on the ice and from technical side.. He is the top scorer of tanking Anaheim aducks and although lacking finesse of his idol Kaner he is almost like him lolcjeck his cheeky a puck between the legs video.

B) anon, yes, McDavid's girlfriend Lauren is very trendy and sexy, the Pens Wags quite dowdy and I like Blackhawks wags and their style and meet ups. I just need to sort out my cookies on other phone ...

C) anon, Tazer is downhill for more reasons one of that is without doubt the pregnancy of his ex gf Lindsey Vechione who is expecting her 2nd child (well, she's 36 soon so no shock, not anybody is Kathy Leather and a simple rule of an ice hockey is You don't score and you don't defend ..You get a goal). Also he went on memory lane and whining prior of the season how all is different and he can't imagine to play for other NHL franchise..search it. Obviously we have no insight into his health struggles as well but I bet that 50 per cent is it u to his head . He has no puffy face in 2020,2021 and first half of 2022 before he has met a hippie yuppe Megan Butler from the group of Marcus Aubrey. I mean something else to be a fan of it and other thing is to have their stuff home with a fanatic admirer as a gf. Desperados do desperate things so his blindness with crazy woman Ashley who is behind Crosby Interesting to unfollow her on Insta. Marketa has cut him off for that and reading her gibberish about Crosby and all name calling and slut shaming of wags you know why. Their friendship is over. She moves and adjust even quicker than Lindsey as there was anything intimate between them. Kaner is gone in NYC and he is left alone and Tazer loves his routine and all exactly the same things and set ups. Last Mustang and the Blackhawks back office with CEO and their carousel roster does not make it easier for him. He's silly but obviously faithful hating changes

D) anon, I will post anything nice about clothes, cute nhl puppies and ice fun but I need to access and upload photos from my other cell phone. I don't cover pyckbunny topic and I don't bother what girl dates certain player and I don't watch it.

E) yes, Chicago Blackhawks wants Connor Bedard for sale of jerseys and as a top pick on rebuild. I

[reporterleroux]

Okay guys I get it y'all don't like Louis and I accidentally forget some of the less major/focused on things about his character 😭😭 sometimes things get completely disregarded in my mind mostly because I just forget about them. I'm not someone who remembers stuff a whole lot, and that is nowhere near a lie. As well as this, things get mixed up between reality and a different au I think of a lot, one where ad astra were just a group of people who didn't even commit crimes because I actually like to imagine nice/normal lives for people.

It feels really fucking weird that I have to say this, but for the love of god cut down on the asks to do with what Louis has actually done. I get it, I messed up and that's that. I've addressed this problem before, discussed my views on it etc. I don't need passive aggressive asks in my inbox over a genuine mistake. If some of you don't like him, that's fine, but some people need to understand that people are gonna like characters in this game with bad morals/who have done bad things because it's literally a game about crime and murders. That's not to say I only like horrible characters, I also enjoy characters like Julian, Marcus (Butler) and Timothy (that one guy that had such a minor appearance in case 20/21 😭😭), most of them being characters who have still done bad things but only got exposed upon their death/in the past/not directly implied.

The point is, what I've said are my personal views on the situation. I don't say this stuff for dumb reasons like disliking Zoe, I actually do like her and wish her and Jones had more screen time together. I'm just saying this because these are my own takes on the situation based on what I've seen from the community. I respect people who I disagree with (cause holy fuck there's a lot of you), but for the love of god if you disagree with what I say there's no need to be so passive aggressive about the whole situation. This doesn't go to everyone, I have had some people be genuine in their curiosity and actually nicer about the situation. I mostly made that post as a joke, it was just something fun me and a few friends were doing at a sleepover to keep ourselves occupied. It was mostly posted just so I have something to post, I've had nothing for the last few weeks because I've been so busy with college and I've also had no ideas on what to post since I've been off. I feel the best thing to do if you don't enjoy the Louis related content I post is to either ignore it completely or just block me, because it'll probably be a while until I stop posting about him.

I'll end by saying I DO NOT support or try to play down his actions by any means. I know damn well what he did was wrong, but I try to read between the lines with the characters I enjoy to unlock a possible different personality outside of their criminal relations. Because Louis only had such little time and such little development, I like to try and give him a personality that develops him more, even if it disagrees with most of the communities views. I'm honestly fine with that, I know people have different opinions and I respect that. I knew what I signed up for when I knew Louis was one of my favourites. I have seen everyone's asks about that post, I've read them all and I want you all to know I acknowledge what you have to say (especially that one I never posted about Batemans personality change, I actually found that interesting and now I think about it it makes a lot of sense, American Psycho was such a good film), but I haven't responded because there's not really much for me to say. So I'm just putting this out there in hopes to have all this end, because most of these asks are repeating the same points.

I'm sorry I did have to make this post, and if you read it all thank you 🫶 ily guys, have a good one!!

ermmm guys wyd if i hyu with my ad astra opinions in the format of a powerpoint because i did it for a powerpoint night would you still love me for my opinions

they are ranked from worst (5) to best (1) based on their actions and i may or may not have a slight bias and i may or may not have an ego so high i feel my opinions are correct 🔥

the profiles on the side are because my friends i'm delivering it too know nothing about the game at all 😘

[moimoimoinnnn]

Golden Dayzzz

[minifuckingshaw-blog]

You get hurt//Sidemen

Requested? Nope.

Warnings? Blood? Pain? Idk? You’re hurt and there’s swearing??

Other? Ouch. I also lowkey dont like this, it was really rushed and bad. May redo it another day. :P

You slipped on Marcus Butlers Jersey for the charity match, seeing as he wasn’t able to come, He had a huge meeting he had to attend. The boys were extremely reluctant to let you play but you managed to nudge your way into the situation. 

You dribbled the ball towards the YTA’s goal and were about to flick the ball over JMX when you got crashed int by Will. Your face was hit roughly by Will’s knee and you fell backwards, landing on your arm/shoulder.

You shut your eyes as you felt a horrible pain shoot up your arm and heard a loud pop. You heard a loud whistle, causing the game to pause since you weren’t getting up. You heard loud footsteps running towards you. “holy shit!” 

You opened your eyes and slowly stood up before looking at your arm. Your jaw dropped as you stared at your dislocated shoulder, it hanging near the under of your breast. “Holy fuck!” Josh was beside you in minutes, telling you to look at him and take deep breaths while Will was stood next to you with pure guilt and worry on his face. “Hey, Y/N, look at me yeah? Deep breaths Honey” Josh mumbled. You watched as Simon. Harry, The Cal’s, JJ and Vikk were all yelling at the pare medics. 

Tobi and a bunch of the other Youtubers around you ran over. “I’m fine, i just need them to pop this back in” You were too shocked to really feel the pain as Josh and the others gawked at you. “They’ll pop it back in and i’ll be back on” You mumbled and tried to walk over to the paramedics the other boys were still yelling at. “You will certainly not!” josh shouted a little. 

You rolled your eyes and looked at will then josh. “Would one of you just take me to the locker are and bring the paramedics, I’ll be back on soon” You mumbled and walked over towards the tube ,Will and josh close behind.

Simon and the paramedics followed after you towards the tube.

“HOLY BITCH” You shouted as you felt the paramedics pop your shoulder back in. “Oh my gosh” you cried and rubbed your arm with your none fucked up arm. “okay…I think i’m good to go back on” You mumbled As simon shook his head violently. 

He felt sick to his stomach that you got hurt, He was one of the reasons why the guys even agreed to letting you play. “No. You’re going home. I’ll go with you, Vikk can take my place.” He spoke as you rolled your eyes, again.

“No Simon, I’m fine. Come on guys, tell him!” You spoke to the paramedics and they shrugged. “She didn’t even cry when we popped it in, i’m sure shes fine to play” You grinned and did a little dance, walking past josh, Will and Simon.

You heard the crowd go crazy as you ran back onto the pitch, taking your spot back at front center. You got confused and worried looks from some of the boys but you shrugged it off and continued to focus on the task at hand.

Right after the football match you were being babied by a group of at least 19 boys. Each one more concerned than the first. You were on bed rest for 6 days. You couldn’t even record or play video games! You would have been mad at them but you found it impossible, since they were being so kind and caring.

,

[marvelatthetwilight]

Dangerous Minds

Masterlist

Minds Masterlist

A/N: Weeeeeeee're back! Just a short one today, but enough to give you a good taste I hope!

They’re coming.

Edward’s eyes lock on yours as he pushes Bella behind him instinctively to protect her and he takes a protective stance in front of her.

Suddenly Alice appears from the door behind you, pulling at your clothes silently. You spin around to look at her, her eyes are wide with fear. Y/N, you need to leave. NOW.

They’re coming.

You see yourself being dragged by a large vampire, comparable to Emmett in size, but unlike your brother, the look on this vampire’s face strikes fear in your gut. Three males are now standing in front of you on throne like chairs, you recognise them from Carlisle’s paintings of his time in Volterra. Your head keeps looking to the side, but from where Alice is standing the view is blocked, so the person is just a shadow. The one in the middle who you recognise as Aro holds a hand forward to you, with the brute holding you forcing your hand forward. A growl can be heard from somewhere in the room, you assume from Edward, but you can’t see him.

Aro’s eyes widen as he watches your thoughts, and the thoughts of everyone in the room flow through his mind.

“Fascinating.” He whispers.

“Brother.” Marcus calls from behind him, stepping forward with his hand ahead of him.

“Ah…a mate?” Aro looks to the side towards the figure hidden from Alice’s view. He looks back to you with a wicked smile, a mischievous glint in his eye, you can see that he is plotting something.

“Welcome to the Volturi Y/N.”

You look back to your Edward and Bella, your brother’s stiff body now fizzing with anger, Bella tugging at his arm for attention, oblivious to what is happening, desperately trying to ask questions.

Y/N You need to get out now. We will be fine. I will send Aro off the scent.

Please be safe. I don’t know where I’m going but I promise I’ll get out. I love you, Edward.

Edward’s hardened features soften at your final words, and he pulls you into a quick hug to say goodbye.

I love you too Y/N. Find Carlisle. Do whatever or find whoever, just get out.

Alice’s face eases as she sees your decision to leave dissolve the vision hovering in her mind. She grabs for your hand, pulling your attention away from Edward, squeezing your fingers as she looks at you desperately.

Leave Y/N. Now. Save yourself.

With a final glance to Bella, then to Edward. Tell Bella I’m sorry. Tell Bella I’ll find a way back, to you all, and to the pack. I’ll find a way back.

You ignore his frown as you slip out of the open door with Alice, the two of you searching for a route into the shadows to find a car for you and a way out of Volterra.

Demetri’s POV

“Felix, Demetri…go search for the Cullen. Bring him here.” Aro waves his hand towards the doors of the Great Hall before turning his attention back to his wife at his side.

I share a look with Felix, raising an eyebrow.

“Are we butlers now?” I whisper to Felix as we make our way down the corridor towards one of the many tunnels that run under the city.

“Apparently so. I don’t know why Aro didn’t just give the order to kill the idiot when he asked for it. If it were anyone else…” Felix remarks.

“You know exactly why my friend.” Felix pauses to think, a deep frown forming on his face before it lights up in recognition.

“I forgot the whiny little Cullen had a gift. Oh gods, could you imagine having to put up with him every day for eternity?” Felix groans, and I join in at the thought, groaning under my breath. I understood why Aro wanted someone like the Cullen in our coven, mind reading in addition to Aro’s own powers would mean that nothing could be kept from us, but Edward was one of the most depressing vampires I have ever met in my 1,000 years on this earth.

“Where are we heading to Dem?” Felix asks, walking at my side as we head down a different tunnel.

“Clocktower in the main square. He’s inside though now…” I pause in thought, honing into Edward’s tenor further. “Definitely inside. Either hasn’t done it yet or has changed his mind.”

Felix rolls his eyes in response, both of our ears perking then at the voices from above us.

As we round the corner, the scent of human hits me immediately, my mouth watering as I try and hold back a growl. It was nearing time to feed, Heidi out collecting our next group and my eyes begin turning burgundy with thirst.

“I won’t be needing your services after all, gentleman.” Edward says as he attempts to hide the human girl behind him.

“Aro would like to speak with you again.”

“No rules were broken.” Edward assures, gesturing to himself.

I smile at him at this comment, before my senses are filled with the most delicious scent; sweet, but not too sweet, my tongue tingles with recognition of scents from my human years. I close my eyes to focus on it, the origin of it long gone, too far for me to catch the tenor of its owner.

“Maybe we should take this conversation to a more appropriate venue…” I suggest, watching the Cullen carefully as his eyebrows furrow into a confused frown. He turns to the human beside him.

“Fine. Bella, why don’t you stay and enjoy the festival.” He gestures back to the door and begins to usher Bella outside before Felix interrupts.

“The girl comes with us.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Edward begins to argue, only stopping when the door suddenly opens to reveal a small girl who I recognise to be another Cullen. Another Cullen that Aro was keen to add to his collection. This should be interesting. She unwraps a scarf from around her head, turning to Edward with a smile as she stands to the side of him in a protective stance in front of the human.

“Come on guys, it’s a festival.” She suggests in an annoyingly cheery voice. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene.”

“There won’t be a scene. Even if there was, we would easily win.” Felix replies, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Enough!” A familiar voice calls from the other end of the corridor, her heels clicking on the stone floor.

I laugh under my breath as Edward and Alice both shrink back in fear at the sight of Jane.

“Jane.” Edward nods in greeting towards her whilst the human looks between the groups confused.

“Who is she?” I hear her ask Alice. Typical human incapable of whispering properly.

“Just do as she says.”

Jane throws the cloak she’s carrying to Edward, who quickly covers himself up.

“Follow me.” She says confidently as she turns on her heel and struts back down the corridor. Felix smirks at the confidence Jane oozes. As we catch each other’s eyes he frowns at me, my face is clearly giving more away than I had hoped.

“All, ok?” He asks after gesturing to the Cullens and the human to follow Jane down the corridor. Edward grabs the human’s hand and pulls her close to him.

I nod hesitantly. “I think so?”

The ornately carved double doors open in front of us to reveal the Masters sitting at their thrones. The human shivers as they walk forward, her eyes catching the sight of the grate in the centre of the room, its use clearly obvious to her. Demetri makes his way to his position at the side of the room alongside Felix, who is still watching him carefully, his uncertain emotion weighing heavy as he tries to focus on the events unfolding in front of him.

“What a happy surprise! Bella is alive after all. Isn't that wonderful?” Aro announces, stepping forward to take Edward’s hand in his own. “Her blood appeals to you so much it makes me thirsty. How can you stand to be so close to her?” He licks at his lips in hunger, whilst Edward grimaces at the mention of Bella’s blood.

“It's not without effort.” He replies painfully.

“I can see that.” A light growl rumbles in the back of Aro’s throat in hunger, Edward’s eyes darkening protectively for his human.

“And…oh…who is this…?” Aro tilts his head slightly to the side, trying to understand Edward’s thoughts as he desperately tries to steer Aro away.

“A friend.” Edward mumbles through a grimace.

“No…not a friend.” Aro closes his eyes to focus, head still tilted. “Family.” He whispers as he opens his eyes again, laughing under his breath at Edward’s panicked expression, looking desperately back to Alice behind him. Remember what Y/N showed you Edward. Remember. He turns back to Aro, pushing him towards different avenues in his mind, avenues away from thoughts of Y/N, but Aro pushes back stronger, forcing his way through.

“Y/N…” He mumbles, chuckling as Bella’s breath hitches in panic from across the room, the sound echoing around the hall.

“And she is…your sister? Yes, Y/N Cullen. Interesting.”

Edward shakes his head, again trying desperately to push Aro away. Give him something so he will stop looking. His head snaps round to look at Demetri, a look of realisation dawning on Demetri’s face as the scent lingers again in his mind. The scent, belongs to a Cullen?

“Oh!” Aro squeaks in surprise. “Well, that is interesting! Alice, you should have said! Demetri dear, come closer.”

He holds out his hand to Demetri, reluctantly letting go of Edward’s, gesturing for Edward to go and stand back with his human. Edward rushes to Bella’s side and holds her close to him, muttering in her ear as worry flushes on her face. “But Y/N…” Demetri hears her whisper.

“You smelt her…and wondered what it meant Demetri, so why did you not say?” Aro turns to face Marcus. “Is it true?”

“It appears to be…although as they have not met it is difficult for me to see clearly.”

Aro claps his hands together in glee, letting Demetri’s hand go in the process. “You already feel her pull, simply through her scent. Oh, Demetri this is excellent news!” Demetri’s confused face glances back and forth from Aro to Marcus, still unsure of what is happening around him.

“Where is she? I simply mustmeet her!” Aro gently lets go of Demetri’s hand as he turns around to face Edward and Alice.

Say she’s already heading back to Forks.

“She’s already heading back home.” Edward checks his wrist for the time. “Flight leaving any moment now.”

“Oh, what a shame.” Aro’s face falls in mock devastation, as Caius’ knowing smirk grows from the throne behind him.

Bella lets out the breath she was holding, her heart rate evening out as she falls for Aro’s ploy.

“What of the human brother?” Caius speaks out from his throne.

“It will happen Aro. See for yourself.” Alice holds out a hand, looking to the guards beside her who only release her with a nod from Aro. She holds a hand out to him, and he closes his eyes as he takes it gently.

“Mesmerising! To see the things you have seen, that have not yet happened. Fascinating.” He breathes out, letting go of Alice’s hand so she can return to Edward’s side at the other side of the room.

“Go!” Aro gestures towards the doors. “Go make your preparations!”

Edward and Alice step backwards towards the door, watching the expressions of the Kings closely. Edward pulls Bella into his side, turning around to face the large doors as the guards either side hold them open.

“Why do I get the feeling that wasn’t as it seems.” Bella whispers to Edward once they are back outside of the confines of the castle.

“Because it wasn’t…” Edward replies, turning to face Alice, mind desperately searching in her thoughts for some sort of plan only to be met with a blank look.

“Edward, what do we do?” Alice asks desperately.

“I don’t know.”

A/N: Oh, I'm such a tease!

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[blood-darkened-moon]

March 23, 1983

James Marcus took a sip of his coffee. Ozwell E. Spencer sat across from him, not looking anywhere in particular. Marcus cleared his throat. He had carefully read the news story about the destruction of the Antarctic base. This incident, most unfortunate for the Ashfords, gave a comfortable lead for his own line of investigation. He set the coffee down on the table and looked Spencer in the eye again.

- “The Ashford disadvantage is unassumable after such destruction. There's absolutely nothing left, is there?” -Marcus reiterated the last detail for his own pleasure rather than out of ignorance.

Spencer reconnected his gaze with Marcus'.

- “I don't consider "unassumable" to be the right word. A critical blow, clearly, but not fatal. Not while Alexia Ashford is still alive.” -The mention of the young Ashford girl made Marcus's gut churn. Spencer shifted in his seat. - "It's not unthinkable... I'd rather be cautious.”

- “In what way?” - Marcus was remarkable as a scientist, but not overly socially adept. Spencer hid his discomfort at his old friend's lack of sensitivity.

- “In the sense, Marcus, that Alexander Ashford remains president of Umbrella as well as myself. In the sense, old friend, that if Alexander Ashford and Alexia Ashford continue to breathe, they would still have a chance to bounce back, somehow.”

- “But they've lost the whole research!” - Marcus emphasized with visible triumphalist aggressiveness.

- “Marcus, how long ago did the Great War end, the one in which you lost your older brother?”

Marcus hesitated, but decided to play along with Spencer. He hated his nasty habit of unnecessarily convoluted conversation.

- “About 64 years ago.”

- “You were born a year before the capitulation and I was born five years after. Alexia was born three years after Umbrella Pharmaceuticals was founded.”

- “And?”

- “Well?” - Spencer responded condescendingly, but Marcus was able to take the hint in time for Ozwell not to become insufferable.

- “I imagine someone as excessively young as Dr. Ashford can afford to waste her time," Marcus asked.

- “While we are nothing more than decrepit mummies in the face of her lushness!” - Spencer added with a laugh.

- “Alexander isn't exactly old either, but he lacks Ed's direction and talent. Alexia, on the other hand..." Marcus picked up his coffee cup. - "I don't want to underestimate her, but there are certain skills that only come with experience.” -He took a sip. He left the cup in the same place. - "I don't know how much... I don't know how much I should worry.”

- “You shouldn't worry.”

- “I don't know if I can take your word for it..." Marcus challenged. Spencer widened his smile.

- “You're right, old friend, you're right not to trust me at all. However, if I've met with you it's because I have a feeling that 'something' is going to happen, something that's going to affect us one way or another.” - Marcus leaned toward Spencer with fervent interest. - "I couldn't tell you for sure what, although that's my hunch.”

- “What do you propose?”

- “Caution, as I said. Caution.”

- “I repeat: why?”

Spencer was silent for a moment. Marcus read his expression: stern, serious, hieratic.

- “Because our position is too advantageous, because there is too much darkness in the Antarctic base incident, because Alexia is too young, and because Alexander is still fucked up over Edward's death.”

- “You're suggesting that Alexander might try something against us?”

- “As I said: caution. The sin has not been ours, we can wait with our heads held high at the gates of heaven. However, the lack of information may cause certain events to be interpretable, and I am concerned about Alexander's interpretation of what happened.”

- “I understand, but I want to know what you are proposing.”

- “Take your place, Marcus, and act as you see fit. I'll take care of Alexander.”

- “And Alexia?”

- “Perhaps Alexia will be more useful to us than we realize.” - Spencer motioned to his butler. He went over to help him up. Marcus concentrated on stirring his lukewarm coffee.

- “I trust Alexia.” - Spencer grabbed his cane and the butler's arm. Marcus had spilled a few drops from the suddenness of his movement. In the end, what seemed like an opportunity was going to turn into hell.

(Translated with DeepL)  

23 de marzo de 1983

James Marcus dio un sorbo a su café. Ozwell E. Spencer permanecía sentado frente a él, sin mirar a ningún sitio en específico. Marcus carraspeó. Había leído detenidamente la noticia sobre la destrucción de la base antártica. Este incidente, muy desafortunado para los Ashford, otorgaba una holgada ventaja para su propia línea de investigación. Dejó el café encima de la mesa y volvió a mirar a Spencer a los ojos.

—La desventaja de Ashford es inasumible tras semejante destrucción. No ha quedado absolutamente nada, ¿cierto? —Marcus reiteró el último detalle por propio placer antes que por desconocimiento.

Spencer reconectó su mirada con la de Marcus.

—No considero que “inasumible” sea la palabra adecuada. Un golpe crítico, es evidente, pero no fatal. No mientras Alexia Ashford siga con vida. —La mención de la joven Ashford le revolvió a Marcus las tripas. Spencer se reacomodó en el asiento. —Inasumible no es… Prefiero ser cauteloso.

—¿En qué sentido? —Marcus era notable como científico, pero no excesivamente ducho para las relaciones sociales. Spencer ocultó la molestia que le producía la falta de sensibilidad de su viejo amigo.

—En el sentido, Marcus, de que Alexander Ashford continúa siendo presidente de Umbrella a la vez que yo. En el sentido, viejo amigo, de que si Alexander Ashford y Alexia Ashford continúan respirando, todavía tendrían la oportunidad de remontar, de algún modo.

—¿Remontar? ¡Pero si han perdido toda la investigación! —Marcus enfatizó con visible agresividad triunfalista.

—Marcus, ¿hace cuánto terminó la Gran Guerra, aquella en la que perdiste a tu hermano mayor?

Marcus dudó, pero decidió seguirle el juego a Spencer. Odiaba su fea costumbre de enrevesar innecesariamente la conversación.

—Hará unos 64 años.

—Tu naciste un año antes de la capitulación y yo cinco después. Alexia nació tres años después de la fundación de Umbrella Pharmaceuticals.

—¿Y?

—¿Y bien? —Spencer respondió con condescendencia, pero Marcus supo atinar la indirecta a tiempo de que Ozwell no se volviera insufrible.

—Imagino que alguien tan excesivamente joven como la doctora Ashford se podrá permitir perder el tiempo —inquirió Marcus.

—¡Mientras que nosotros no somos más que momias decrépitas ante su lozanía! —Spencer agregó soltando una carcajada.

—Alexander tampoco es que sea precisamente viejo, pero carece por completo de la dirección y del talento de Ed. En cambio, Alexia… —Marcus cogió la taza de café. —No deseo subestimarla, pero hay ciertas habilidades solo dadas por la experiencia. —Dio un sorbo. Dejó la taza en el mismo lugar. —No sé hasta qué punto… No sé hasta qué punto debería preocuparme.

—No deberías preocuparte.

—No sé si fiarme de tu palabra… —Marcus desafió. Spencer amplió su sonrisa.

—Haces bien, viejo amigo, haces bien en no fiarte de mí en absoluto. Sin embargo, si me he reunido contigo es porque tengo la sensación de que va a ocurrir “algo”, algo que nos va a afectar de un modo u otro. —Marcus se inclinó hacia Spencer, con ferviente interés. —No sabría decirte a ciencia cierta el qué, aunque esa es mi corazonada.

—¿Qué propones?

—Cautela, como he dicho. Cautela.

—Repito: ¿por qué?

Spencer se silenció un instante. Marcus leyó su expresión: severa, seria, hierática.

—Porque nuestra posición es demasiado ventajosa, porque hay demasiados oscuros en el incidente de la base antártica, porque Alexia es demasiado joven y porque Alexander todavía está jodido por la muerte de Edward.

—Insinúas que Alexander podría intentar algo contra nosotros…

—Como he dicho: cautela. El pecado no ha sido nuestro, podemos aguardar con la cabeza bien alta a las puertas del cielo. No obstante, la falta de información puede provocar que ciertos sucesos sean interpretables, y me preocupa la interpretación de Alexander sobre lo ocurrido.

—Lo entiendo, pero quiero saber qué propones.

—Ocupa tu puesto, Marcus, y actúa cómo consideres. Yo me encargaré de Alexander.

—¿Y Alexia?

—Quizás Alexia nos sea más útil de lo que imaginamos. —Spencer hizo una seña a su mayordomo. Este se acercó para ayudarle a incorporarse. Marcus se concentró en remover su templado café.

—Confío en Alexia. —Spencer se agarró a su bastón y al brazo del mayordomo. Marcus había derramado algunas gotas por la brusquedad de su movimiento. Al final, lo que pareció ser una oportunidad, se iba a convertir en un infierno.

[usmsgutterson]

Yellow- Pin Hawthorne

OKAY, YES-- I’ve wanted to write for Pin Hawthorne since having finished the show, and I’ve decided to do it, because I simply can’t resist and Pin is my favorite moody horseboi, plus, this blurb (imagine? I don’t know how long it’s gonna go yet!) is entirely inspired by the songs Yellow and Sparks by Coldplay, because the show is modern and the songs were released W A Y before the years that show is set in, so yay! 

Pins aged up in this, as well. In the show he’s around 16-17? In this, he and the reader are both 20!

I might have Pins characterization a little off because I’ve only watched the show once (I’m gonna rewatch it before I do a shadow and bone rewatch,, moody pin is just a bit too endearing) but other than that, lets do it!

The reader is American for this, and I did mostly keep it gender neutral, aside from an outfit description! Even then, though, I did try to keep it androgynous

Fic type- fluff

Warnings-none

It took a ton of convincing on Pins part to get his dad to let him use the castle for something that, to anyone else, might’ve seemed small. He’d known it might’ve, and started the process a good month before the event was even to happen. A decision that he’d made that wound up working in his favor. 

“You really love them, don’t you?” His father asked, pressing the keys into his palm as Pin gave a nod. “Even with all the stupid nicknames?” Pin grimaced, but nodded again. 

“Even the stupid nicknames, Dad,” he assured. “All of them.” His father broke out into a smile, pulling Pin in for a hug as he tucked the key away into his jacket pocket.

“Well then, happy anniversary,” his father mumbled. “Five years? Gotta admit, I had faith, but I didn’t think you’d make it this far. Not with someone like them.”

“I know,” Pin retorted. “I’m pretty lucky.” Pin knew that ‘pretty lucky’ might as well have been understatement of the year, but went along with it anyway, pulling away from his father and slowly approaching Elvis, patting his side a few times before climbing onto the saddle and riding down to the castle that he, as the duke, could technically call home. 

The castle was big and at times, tough to get around, but he made his way just fine, letting Elvis move at a slow gallop rather than a run, figuring that he had the time, considering you’d agreed to meet at 8 and it was barely 7:15.

When he arrived, he put Elvis away safely, and made his way through the entrance and up to the outdoor balcony, which had a view outlooking the expansive land on which the castle was built, and the trees that went around the outerrim of the space.

He grabbed his bag off the chair on which he’d had his butler leave it the day previous, almost grinning to himself as he sat at the glass table, rummaging through the bag for everything that he’d put in it.

A bottle of wine, because why not, several sweets, a ton of the polaroids you’d taken in the seven years you’d known each other, some fairy lights that he’d hang up so that you weren’t totally and completely in the dark, and a bluetooth speaker that Becky had gotten him that Christmas; one that he’d still not bothered to use, despite the fact that it was almost June. 

“Can I get you anything sir?” Arthur poked his head through the balcony door way, and Pin found himself startled. 

“Uh, yes please. Wine glasses,” Arthur gave a single, solitary nod.

“The dinner that you requested will be here by the time you requested for it,” he responded. “Though, are you really sure fast food is what you want? It doesn’t seem right to celebrate an anniversary with fast food.” Pin forced his gaze to his lap so that Arthur wouldn’t glimpse his smile. 

You’d come from America, just like Zoe had, but you’d moved with your family to the island when you were eleven. You’d met Pin when you were thirteen. 

One summer, Pins father was insistent that he get away from the stables, spend some time somewhere he’d not gone before, travel a little, and your family had agreed to let him spend the eight weeks of summer with you in the united states. 

You’d had your first date in a McDonalds that same summer, when you and Pin were fifteen. He’d felt weirded out, at first. The fact that he’d never eaten from a McDonalds, despite there having been a couple on the island, almost made him confused. You’d gotten chicken nuggets to split and a couple of the pastries to count as a desert of sorts, and thus sparked the relationship.

“No reason,” Pin murmured. “It’s quick. It’s easy, and the last meal that they ate was lunch.” Arthur gave another nod, and Pin began fiddling with the speaker as he heard Arthurs footsteps grow farther and farther away. 

It was a speaker that was almost the size of his hand and designed to look like a vintage radio. Forest green was the color, and the dial on the right side would control volume. The three buttons below the dial were the power button, the on/off button, and the skip button. Pin turned it on, checking the sound quality by playing two MCR songs, silently bopping his head as Arthur returned, the supplies that Pin had asked Arthur to gather in a bag perched neatly on his arm.

Arthur placed the bag on the table wordlessly, leaving Pin to do his thing as he stopped using the speaker,  deciding that the sounds of nature; the river, the rustling of trees and the beautiful view of the sky as the sun grew closer and closer to setting was much better company than Gerard Way scream-singing his lungs out. 

He’d spent the remainder of the time he had working on your gift. At the end of it, he felt proud of himself, even despite how dumb he’d thought the idea was at first.

It was all of his favorite photos of you--polaroids he’d taken via polaroid camera and polaroids that became polaroids when he’d used a polaroid printer alike-- neatly put into a big picture frame, plus a couple of his sweaters that you liked to steal, some of your favorite sweets, and a journal he knew you’d been eyeing at one of the shops. 

Arthur put the McDonalds onto the table in the last ten minutes before eight, putting the wine glasses beside the bag. “I’ll send them here when they’ve arrived,” he murmured, shooting Pin a smile as he turned and walked away. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Pin had the dinner mostly set up, the chicken nuggets at the center of the table, fries on either side, wine glasses filled the appropriate amount. 

“You’re lucky I love you, Hawthorne,” Pin was almost breathless as he glanced over to you, putting the bag that he’d put your gift in on the ground to his right. “If you were anyone else, I’d not have waited so long to eat dinner.” You’d worn a simple pair of black jeans, with a black turtleneck and a dark gray blazer overtop. You styled your hair like you always did, and your smile was bright, eyes warm as you looked at him.

“McDonalds and wine,” you sat, putting the gift you’d gotten Pin on the ground to your left, reaching across the table and taking his hand in yours. “The perfect way to a persons heart.”

“Do you like it?” He asked, gesturing to the fairy lights Arthur must’ve put up while he was busy in the world of gift making. They weren’t lit yet, as the sun had barely begun to dip over the horizon, but he’d light them once it grew darker. You nodded.

“It’s absolutely lovely,” you responded. “I didn’t think you’d put this much effort in, to be totally honest.” You were poking at him, pricking gently at his work ethic in the hopes of getting a kiss across the table. 

“I’d have been fine just cuddling the day away,” you admitted. “And I know you would’ve, but thank you. For everything.” He smiled, feeling grateful for Zoe’s suggestion that he use the castles balcony to his advantage when he’d brought his plans up to her and Marcus. 

“You’re welcome,” he responded. 

After that, you lapsed into a comfortable silence, making occasional conversation as you ate and drank. You let Pin ramble about the sick horses at Bright Fields and made a mental note to visit the hospital part of the stables, see how they were doing and make sure they knew that they were loved. As you cleaned up, putting your garbage back into the McDonalds bag, you gave Pin updates on some of the horses around the stables and the wild horses that you and Jade had been tracking. 

“There’s a foal, too!” Pin loved seeing you get so excited, and that was no exception. “I know that we shouldn’t name the wild horses, but I couldn’t help myself, so I named the horse November.”

“Why November?”

“The foals coat is white. Snow is white, and snow happens in November. It just seemed fitting!” You grabbed the bag, going inside only briefly to put it into the nearest trash bin before walking back out and sitting back down. 

Pin grabbed the bag with your gift in it at the same time you grabbed the bag with his. He slid yours to you with a bright smile, and you slid his to him with the same.

You opened yours first. “Your hoodies!” You yelled out, smile turning into a full on beam, “Pin, you know that we’re moving in together in the fall, right? You’re just gonna get these back!” Pin shrugged.

“You get them until the fall, I’ll wash them, wear them a couple of times, and then they’re yours again. I get to see you in my clothes and you get to be warm and comfortable constantly! I call it a win-win situation!” 

“Can’t disagree with that!” You put the sweaters back in the bag, grabbing the photo frame next. 

You sighed, feeling your legs turn to jello as your heart melted. You looked up at him, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you did. “Five years of polaroids,” you whispered. “And you’re giving them back to me?” Pin just shrugged, feeling tempted to round the table, crouch next to you and kiss you senseless, but he resisted. 

“I took photos of them,” he responded, pulling his phone out of his pants pocket and waving it around. “I can always get more copies from the polaroid printer.” You laughed lightly.

“Thank you, Pin, so much.” You’d never stop saying it. You had so much to thank him for. Every smile, every laugh, every dinner date, every ride out into the countryside and every kiss. 

“You don’t need to thank me, love,” he responded. “Theres one more thing in there for you.” He gestured to the bag as you put the photo frame back into it, pulling out the journal you’d been eying a moment later. 

“No fucking way!” You cursed, turning it over in your hands. Pin leaned back into his chair, shrugging while he nodded. 

It was a simple journal: a brown leather bound thing that was the same color as Elvis’s fur, but it had pages that were suitable for practically anything.

“I know you’ve wanted it for a while, and, well, I figured you could use it for just about anything. Sketches, diary entries, even putting bank statements in the thing would make a good use for it,” You slightly stood, planting a kiss to his nose across the table. 

You put the journal back into the bag and gestured to the bag he’d put in his lap. “It’s your turn, duke.”

“Don’t call me that,” he whispered. He narrowed his eyes at you, but the smirk that followed after told you he’d not been serious. 

The first thing he’d pulled out was a scrapbook of the years that you’d spent together. From photos like the victory one that Ted had taken after you’d completed riding lessons, Pin doing a thumbs up on the right side of your horse while you sat on it still, throwing a peace sign and smiling, to random photos you’d taken together. 

Blurry ones that’d been taken with the timer feature. You flipping off the camera while Pin flopped back onto his bed. One from when you were both sixteen, in the middle of turning around, his arms snaked around your waist and yours resting on his shoulders as you kissed, the screen blurred but not so blurred that you couldn’t tell what was happening. 

A couple that Zoe, Jade, Becky and Marcus had taken. You, exhausted, with your head in Pins lap as he fiddled with a camera, curled up and almost hidden from sight in the haybales. You and Pin at the pony prom, slow dancing, looking at each other with nothing but love in your eyes. A shot taken as you and Pin left the stables, backs to the camera, hands interlocked. A photo of you and Pin in the haybales again, you with your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, hay in your hair. A laptop sat discarded beside Pins sleeping body, playing old episodes of Criminal Minds. Both of you had sleepy smiles on your faces. 

Pin laughed as he saw more than one picture of you two asleep in the haybales, some taken by Jade, most taken by Zoe, though there were a few shots that’d been taken by his father. 

“I love this,” he glanced up at you, then to the speaker that sat on the edge of the table. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, horse-boy!” He snorted, putting the scrapbook on the table and grabbing the next thing in the bag.

It was a sweater; one that he’d not seen since before his eighteenth birthday. “Thief,” he murmured, folding the sweater and putting it atop the scrapbook. 

“You’re my favorite person,” was your lovestruck retort. He blushed as he grabbed the last thing in the bag.

It was a camera; a polaroid to replace the one that’d been broken in the months before, and it was vintage. 

“You didn’t,” he looks up at you, face showing disbelief as clearly as his voice did. In response, you just shrugged.

“We’ve taken a lot of photos, and you loved the polaroid camera. I used a connection or two that I have and I grabbed it for you.”

“How much was it?” He asked. “We had a limit! No more than fifty pounds!” 

“It was forty nine pounds, and the taming of a wild horse found just outside the coast of Maine. She comes in a couple of days, by the way.” Pin put the things back in the bag and stood, grabbing the speaker and turning it on, connecting his phone to it a minute later.

“You love chaos,” he teased. “But I love you, so I love it by association.” He held his hand out to you, and you took it, giggling as he pulled you in close, bringing you into a passionate kiss that lingered on your lips even after it’d ended. 

He paused only to have Yellow by Coldplay stream through the speaker, putting his phone on the table next to it.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, emphasizing more on his accent in a silly way to get you to laugh. It worked, to his delight, as you nodded, cheeks flushing bright red.

“You may have every dance, if you so wish it,” he felt his cheeks heat up as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and gently swaying with you as your arms moved to rest at his shoulders and his moved to your waist, wrapping around it, his hands meeting and folding at the small of your back. ‘

He’d found a way to loop the song so that it played a couple of times back to back, but you didn’t mind. You had Pin. You had Pin and his sarcasm, his smiles, his voice, still drenched with sleep in the mornings and his peaceful face while he slept. You had tea in the mornings, quiet afternoons spent riding or in helping horses, and evenings laughing with your friends, Pin at your side. 

You’d known Pin for seven years, and you’d been dating him for five. He was like the lgiht at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel, and he embraced you tightly as you finally escaped it. 

“What makes you happy?” he asked you absentmindedly, just to get to hear the melodic sound of your voice again. You laughed, meeting his gaze with a smile. 

“You, Pin,” you responded. “You make me happy.” He stared at you for a long moment, wishing that he had what he’d kept in his sock drawer since Christmas. 

“What makes you happy?” You repeated.

“You, Y/N. Always you,” you leaned up, pressing your lips to his without so much as thinking twice.

The kiss was messy, and you stumbled backward a little, but you giggled as you did. When you pulled away, you were delighted to find that Pins cheeks were burning as bright as yours, the same red that coated some parts the sky as the sun dipped down the horizon. 

“You’re the love of my life,” Pin was almost in awe at how easily you said it, like you’d been reading off a grocery list or ingredients for a recipe. Pin had wanted to say it since he’d bought the thing that sat in that pathetic little sock drawer, but he’d still not figured out how to say it and make it worthwhile.

“Do you want forever?” The closest he’d get, but he was fine with that, and relieved as you’d nodded. “I promise you forever then, Y/N.”

[troye-and-connor-sivan]

let’s chat ! // dms are open

doing a q&a! ask me anythinggg and i’ll (try to) answer you! it doesn’t have to JUST be about this amount! it can be anything from advice to what’s my favorite color :)

[jordanxox]

“Don’t have fun”

AN: This is my first ever imagine, so if it sucks, BARE WITH ME IM A NEWBIE. But other than that I can and will take requests in the future. Hope you enjoy the read, loves💕

Warnings: Minor Cursing

Summary: The reader is Marcus’ twin sister. Her and Zach are going on a first date, but Marcus being the overprotective twin, gets in the way. 

Two knocks. Two knocks and that door went swinging open. Of course, Zach would of thought to see Y/N looking beautiful as ever for their first date.

Ever since he met Y/N freshman year he always had a thing for. But he didn’t want to piss off Marcus. But screw it, he did it anyways, and thankfully, she said yes.

The door swung open. Instead of Y/N it revealed~you guessed it~Marcus.

“The hell your doing here, Zach?” Marcus asked leaning on his front door.

“Oh I-um---” Before Zach could utter out a full sentence, Y/N came downstairs with a casual outfit on (it was a movie date).

“I told you I’ll get the door” Y/N said, running the down steps to the door.

“I’m pretty sure it was for me anyways.” Marcus said snarkly as a reply.

Zach and Y/N both nervously laugh. They both know that Marcus does not know about their date.

“Well you see” Zach started.

“We kind of” Y/N chimed in.

“Are on a date?” He said, questionably.

Marcus just stood there with his eyes expanding, realizing the situation that’s going on.

“WAIT. SO YOU” he pointed to his sister “AND YOU” he pointed to Zach “ ARE DATING?” he yelled angirly.

“Well kind of-” Y/N started 

“No, shut up.” he said calmly before getting angry again.” I TOLD YOU MY SISTER WAS OFF-LIMITS” he stated, pushing Zach a little.

“HEY” she said getting in between them. “ You can’t just say that I’m off-limits, Marcus. I know you tried to get with one of my friends, which to remind, reject you badly.

“Damn” Zach snickered.

 While Marcus was flabbergasted, Zach and Y/N just started laughing their asses off.

Y/N took Zach by the hand and said “ See ya later, Marc.

Before Marcus could say anything, they ran off into Zach’s car, while a distant “Go,go,go!” was heard.

“AYE, COME BACK!” Marcus said while the car was pulling away.

[mermaidsirennikita]

Re: your comments in your tags about swarthiness… agree completely, and it’s especially problematic when she uses it to describe Kev and Cam. I always think of how that goes back to characters like Heathcliff (who was coded as a man of color) and more recently Rhett Butler, who was decidedly NOT, but was given an air of being ~bad and transgressive~ with his “dangerous” “swarthy” looks in…. Gone with the Wind….

But re: Lisa heroes being conventionally hot… I’d actually say most of them are lol, it’s just that not all of them are PRETTY. Even Sebastian, I imagine, is like, beautiful? But not pretty. Because pretty does not equal masculinity in Kleypasworld, and Kleypas heroes are masculine, even when they can’t fight good or do basic household work.

Off the top of my head, every man who springs from Sebastian’s loins is obviously super conventionally hot, so Gabriel and Keir are really attractive… Keir is SO HOT he has to wear a beard or else it’s like actively difficult for him to live. He demands to be taken seriously!!!

Derek Craven is described at points as being rough around the edges but he’s also clearly really conventionally appealing. He sold his body to rich ladies to make his money, like he’s rough but he’s hot—and I think Joyce having his face cut to like, leave her mark~ speaks to that.

Simon Hunt strikes me as real conventional, but like, not classy in Anabelle’s mind. Cam sounds super handsome, Kev is like Cam but even bigger and somehow they don’t realize they’re brothers until super late because they’re just like. Too busy fuckin [THEIR HEROINES my god], I guess. Or in Kev’s case, being VERY STRESSED about MAYBE fuckin.

So yeah, I see why it could be thought they they’re not conventionally hot because often the heroine is like MY GOD HE IS BRUTAL but they’re largely handsome, Marcus just isn’t because he is a sad strange little man who just needs to get pegged, probably.

I wonder how many times Lisa Kleypas cackled quietly to herself when writing about the Marsden disdain for Yankee fortunes in Again the Magic, because I know she had approximately all of Mommy’s Favorite Hero’s (Westcliff) life planned out at this point

[pascalpanic]

Here for the sentence starters!! "I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater" and "I’m so in love with her/him, I don’t know what do do." Feel free to do both or either or whatever you prefer with either of the Marcuses! I'm in such a fluffy mood rn and these will make my day :)) (PS I adore you and I hope you have a good day xx)

Making Moves (Marcus Moreno x f!Reader)

Summary: Your neighborhood superhero, Marcus Moreno, is being nagged by his daughter to find love. Lucky for him, just the right woman moves in down the street.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: language, brief talks of death (just to refer to Marcus’s wife who passed away), brief mentions of sexual stuff. it’s tame.

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN. I love some good Marcus Moreno. He’s such a cutie and these prompts made it so fun! You can still send me prompts from this list with a character, just mind the taken ones! p.s. my emotional support Brit @maxlordsgf see how I used patio/backyard??

The Moreno household was cozy. You wondered if it was Marcus who’d decorated the beautiful home, or if his late wife. You supposed it didn’t matter. You would’ve liked the former Mrs. Moreno, if Marcus could love her like he did. 

He lived a few houses down from you. You’d moved in a couple of months ago, into the nice Craftsman style home you currently rented. The best thing about the house was the beautiful front porch, which exposed the lovely suburban neighborhood. The porch had come with a swing, and you’d decided that it’d have to be your new morning coffee spot. After all, this is California, where the sun was plentiful and the air was just cold enough to be refreshing in the mornings.

The time that you drank your coffee on the porch also happened to be the time that your neighborhood Heroic, Marcus, went for his morning runs. He’d been excited to see that the house was sold, and Missy was too. They planned on bringing over some sweets once you were settled. Several weeks after the sold sign went up, he saw you for the first time. 

You looked like an angel, he thought. You wore a fuzzy robe with patterned capri pajama pants peeking from beneath it. Your glasses rested on the bridge of your nose, slightly fogged from the steam of your coffee. You sat on your porch swing, knees pulled to your chest, reading from your tablet. He was immediately caught off-guard. Your new home was at the beginning of his running path, but his breath was already gone from his lungs from your beauty. 

Pushing his own glasses up his nose, he gave you a little wave as you looked up. You’d smiled at him, a grin with your teeth visible. The man was handsome, you’d noticed. Dark hair, a little scruff, eyes that scrunched when he smiled at you. He was fit, too, his muscles evident beneath his tight t-shirt and running shorts. He kept running, unsure what he could say to you. 

Marcus returned home some thirty minutes later to find Missy awake. “Hey, the new neighbor moved in,” he told her as he walked to the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Ooh, tell me all about them.”

“Well, we didn’t talk. I still don’t know if it’s a family or anything,” he admitted. “But there was a woman sitting on the porch.”

Missy’s eyes lit up. “How old?”

Marcus shook his head. “I don’t know, muñeca,” he told her and kissed her head as he walked past her to sit at the table. 

“Old enough to date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and stuffing her mouth full of cereal. “Did she seem single?”

“Stay out of it,” he teased her and poked her forehead, right between the eyes. 

She flinched back a bit but laughed. “Dad, come on.”

He shook his head. “We can bring over a housewarming gift tonight, huh? Then we can see.” -

Well, it turned out that night was too busy to do so for the Morenos.

You saw him the next morning as he ran past again. You wore different pajamas but sat in the same position. You’d waved back.

That’s how the next couple mornings went for the two of you. Every day, Marcus could swear you looked prettier. With you looking like that in your pajamas, he couldn’t imagine how beautiful you’d be at any other time. 

Finally, Friday night, he and Missy put on some music and got to baking.

“What does she look like?” Missy asked curiously as she cracked an egg into the bowl- she’d learned the hard way that her father was not to be trusted with egg duty.

Marcus described you to his daughter, his eyes far off and a small smile on his face. “She’s very pretty.”

“Well, duh. You’re simping over her, of course she is.”

“What’s a simp?” He’d asked, brow furrowing.

-

The knock came an hour or two later. You’d gotten home from work an hour or so earlier, so you were in relaxed clothing, the remnants of your makeup on your face. 

Behind the door stood the handsome runner you saw every morning, and a miniature, carbon-copied version of him with longer hair and more feminine features. “Hi! We’re the Morenos. We live in the blue house down the street. I’m Missy, and this is my dad, Marcus,” she introduced herself cheerfully. She held a tray of brownies. He held a bouquet.

“We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” the man- Marcus- says with a warm smile on his face.

“Oh, thank you!” You grinned and took the tray Missy held out. “Well, come in, please,” you invite them. “Do you drink, Marcus? I was just having some wine. Oh, and Missy, I have some soda if you’d like that.”

The three of you sat in your half-constructed living room for a while and chatted. You learned about the former Mrs. Moreno and how she’d passed a few years ago. You shared that you were living alone and single, due to a bad breakup that led you to move here. The two were good company, you learned quickly, bantering back and forth more like siblings than a father and daughter.

As they stood up to leave, you apologized for the mess. “Sorry. I’ve been trying to hook up my TV lately, and I haven’t done anything else yet. I want to get the TV up first, but I’m practically useless with electronic stuff,” you admitted with a chuckle.

“Oh, Dad is great with electronics,” Missy told you with a grin.

“Not great. Competent would be a better word,” he chuckled. “I could help you set it up, if you’d like that.”

“I would, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Here, we can exchange numbers, you can text me when you’d like me to come over,” he offered and pulled out his phone.

“Sure,” you said and told him your number, which he enters into his phone and sends you a text. “Perfect,” you nodded and saved his phone number. “I’ll see you two soon, hopefully.”

They said goodbye and you heard Missy giggling as the door shut behind him. It’s muffled, but you thought you can hear Missy anyway: “That was smooth, Dad!”

-

That was months ago now. You’d developed a relationship with the both of them, visiting each others’ houses often for dinner or just to chat. 

When summer rolled around, Missy invited you over for days at their pool. You two had enjoyed yourselves, Marcus playing the role of your butler for the day, serving you mocktails and teasing his daughter. It became a common occurrence during the summer. You even had a reverse day on Marcus’s birthday (July 12th) where Missy served the two of you. It was almost like a date. That was the day you both realized you’d fallen hard for the other.

As much as you spent time with Marcus, the girl positively adored you, and always sent you texts from her father’s phone.

We’re having pizza tonight! Wanna come over?

Dad says he sucks at math. Can you help me with my homework?

My friends canceled on me. Are you free to eat Ben and Jerry’s and watch Mamma Mia with me? 

You’d become like a mother figure to her, helping her when she got her first period, taking her shopping for middle-school dances, giving her boy advice.

Marcus liked you just as much, if not more. You liked him too. He was a funny man, kindhearted and warm. He’d listen to you talk when you’d had a shitty day, bring over a bottle of wine when he needed some comfort, cook dinner for the two of you when Missy was at Anita’s.

One night, you’re eating dinner with them on their patio. It’s nice, overlooking their backyard and their pool. Missy is going to a friend’s later, to sleep over, but Marcus had cooked food for the three of you on the grill, something you’d learned he was fantastic at, and you’re inside getting more food. The door is slightly cracked, and you can hear the two of them talking. 

“Dad. You have to make your move, and you gotta do it tonight! Otherwise, she’ll go for Kent a couple doors down. You don’t want that, do you?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“It’s not that easy, muñeca. I’m so in love with her I don’t know what to do.”

Your heart catches in your chest, fluttering. Marcus likes you. Not only that, he’s in love with you. The past few months race through your head, and you hyper-analyze every little interaction the two of you have had. It’s clear now, in hindsight. You swallow hard, putting back down the skewer of vegetables.

He’s been the only thing on your mind the past few weeks, you have to admit. Your visits to each others’ homes had increased, with you spending more and more nights a week at the Morenos’. His laugh makes your stomach flutter as Missy says something else to him outside. You bite your lip. Tonight’s the night. If he doesn’t make his move like Missy insisted, you’ll do it first.

The conversation is light for the rest of dinner, and you’re a bit detached. Marcus can tell, but he doesn’t comment on it. You simply stare out into their pool, listening to Missy ramble on about the plans that she and her friends have for tonight.

A while later, her friends’ parents pick her up. You stand in the driveway and wave a thank-you to the girl’s parents as they drive off with Missy and her friend in tow. “Love you guys,” she shouts out of the window. You grin and shout it back, in sync with Marcus.

The two of you return to the backyard. You walk a little farther apart from Marcus than normal. “Hey,” he says and stands right next to you, his shoulder nudging yours. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off all night,” he mumbles softly.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, really,” you chuckle, looking down at your feet. 

Marcus is oblivious to the fact that you heard the two of them earlier. You and Marcus have always had a playful relationship, and the idea strikes him to help cheer you up. “Hey, vecina.”

“What- ah!” You squeal as Marcus lifts you in his strong arms. He walks the two of you to the side of the pool as you wriggle in his grip, laughing. “Goddamnit, Marcus! Let go of me!” You screech as he holds you over the pool, though you’re giggling the whole time.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he laughs, your feet kicking as they dangle over the chlorinated water. 

“No, you asshole!” You laugh, wriggling. “Put me down, Moreno, or God help your poor soul when I-” 

He sets you down on the edge, backing up a bit. “There, fine. Just trying to help,” he teases. He did, he thinks to himself. You’re smiling again. 

You’re painfully close to him. Your hands find his hips and he looks down at your hands in confusion as you pat the pockets of his shorts. No phone. Perfect. There’s a devilish grin as you wrap him in a bear hug and fall backwards into the pool, taking him with you.

You let go once you’re underwater, shooting up to the surface from under him and laughing. He comes up moments later, wiping his eyes and pushing his hair back. Your laugh is maniacal and loud, completely content and proud of yourself. “There, I cheered you up at least,” he shakes his head and smiles. He walks to the shallower end of the pool, and you follow.

“I wasn’t in a bad mood,” you shoot back.

“Well, something was off. Will you tell me now?” He asks, your eyes wandering to his- oh, he’s ripped, goddamn- abs beneath his wet t-shirt. His eyes remained trained on yours, ever the gentleman.

Swallowing hard, you nod and walk closer to him with a smile. “I heard you and Missy when I was inside getting more food,” you tell him, biting on your lip to hold back an excited giggle.

His brows furrow in confusion then lift in surprise as it hits him. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you nod, wading a little closer and then even closer. You can hear his heavy breathing and look into those big brown eyes with a grin. 

“Well, I-” he starts stammering, unsure of what to say, until you place your hands on his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you mumble soothingly, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I know you said it’s not that easy. Why don’t you let me take the reins then, hm?” You ask teasingly, bringing your face close to his. 

He grins, taking the opportunity as he sees it. His lips crash to yours happily, his hands finding your waist over your sopping wet clothing. You smile softly against his lips. They’re so soft and warm, the very lips you’ve been staring at for a long time, imagining this. He’s gentle but loving and you deepen it. He follows immediately, parting his lips against yours and he sighs into your mouth. 

The two of you stand there, in his pool, making out, for quite a while. Finally, when he breaks away, looking at you through his water-drop-stained glasses, you grin. “This is your fault, you know. I’m gonna have to go home and change into dry clothing.”

“Or you could borrow some of mine,” he offers with a shy smile, and you grin.

“That works too.”

He kisses you one more time. “Will you stay the night? We don’t even have to… to do anything. I don’t even really want to yet. I just want to keep holding on to you.”

You nod and kiss him softly, for just a moment. “Of course I will.” -

You awaken in the morning to the smell of cooking. You live alone, and it makes your brow furrow in confusion, eyes still shut, until they open and you find yourself in Marcus’ home. His bed, specifically. 

You smell like chlorine and your hair is damp still, but you’re wearing a big black sweater that smells like detergent and cologne and sleep. It’s Marcus’s, you realize with a smile. 

Last night was truly perfect. No, you didn’t sleep with him yet, but it was still perfectly intimate, the way you held each other and whispered sweet words and pressed soft kisses all over each others’ faces and torsos. You’d made out for a fair amount of time too, just like teenagers again, but it was meaningful. 

You pad down the stairs, wearing just your underwear and one of Marcus’s big sweaters. He’s cooking breakfast in the kitchen, and your heart melts as you see him. “Good morning, superhero,” you coo as you wrap your arms around him from behind and press a kiss into his neck.

His body warms and melts into your touch. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

“Amazing. Your bed is insanely comfortable,” you chuckle and snuggle in against him, resting your head against his back. 

“I’m glad. Go sit down, breakfast will be ready in a bit.”

You nod and do exactly that, sitting across the kitchen island from him. He puts some pancakes on a plate, drizzles them with syrup, and slides it to you. “Bon appetit.”

“Thank you,” you grin and waste no time in cutting into them with a fork and taking a bite.

You sigh happily and Marcus’s heart can barely take the sight of it. “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“I can’t get over how cute you are,” you tease and pop another bite in your mouth. “The good news is that you can get over it, because I’m coming over here for breakfast in your clothes every day now.”

“Or you could live here.”

The proposal is so quiet, so sudden and nonchalant that it takes you aback for a minute. “What?”

He shrugs. “I know we’ve only been together for, what, 10 hours now, but Missy and I both adore you. You’re over here all the time anyway. Why don’t you? Save us both some money, too.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin. “I might have to think about it.”

He nods. “I get that, I-“

“Done thinking. I’ll do it,” you grin happily. 

“Really?”

“Really,” you nod, giggling excitedly. 

Marcus leans across the kitchen counter and kisses you softly. “Be prepared for a lot of Moreno loving. Missy’s a cuddler.”

“I think I can take it,” you smile and press another kiss to his lips, with all of the love in your heart. 

-

translations:

vecina- neighbor (female)

muñeca- in this context, doll

-

hey taglist, come get y’all’s juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1

[tierneystescobag]

How have I not seen this yet?!

It's hilarious 😂😂

[teartae]

joeck;

when i first started this i was like wtf am i doing but i somehow managed to make it seem like i know how to draw(:

(yes, joe has freckles, and yes, jack has a hickey, wonder whO GAVE IT TO HIM EHEM FUCK I’M OUT) pd. the nose ring is back!!