marcspectorcansuckadick
but only if it's mine
anywho, 18, he/him
I write little blurps of fanfiction
(Marc/moonknight, Marvel, Star Wars, ask about requesting fanfics)
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of course I hope Moon Knight gets a season 2 with Jake. However right now is also something of a wild west golden era of creative Jake characterizations. No one knows what the fuck they're planning to make of him and so it is a time of peak diversity in MCU Jake headcanons. Thus far I have seen Jake portrayed in fanworks as
just a Guy
edgelord prime
the cool alter
middle child
emotionless tough guy (and being really brave about it)
wonderful. Delightful. The Jake is your oyster
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(this is from my alt account)
I feel like people don't often think/notice how much fanfiction/fandom content/romance/writing content is all geared at women or otherwise feminine people. Like this isn't a complaint or some "men are oppressed" bullshit, this is just my observation about how little content there is speaking towards the male audience of fandoms and writing. Even a lot of gn!reader fic I read still subconsciously reads female reader to me, like the reader always being smaller then the S/O, adjectives like "beautiful/gorgeous/etc," long hair, etc etc. I just see so much content 24/7 that assumes I'm a woman and I don't really have much of a comment on this tbh, I just find it interesting to observe. Especially in BL/mlm shipping scenarios where it's assumed I (as the reader/viewer) am a woman. {I won't get into all that right now} It's like even in situations where I am trying to view relatable content I'm still viewing from a different lens. I think it's important for me to experience this and find this as my own call to provide the content I want to see, especially on this site, but it's still unique to me and I wonder do others notice. Am I the only one? Why aren't there more male fanfic writers? (Or are there male fanfic writers that we just don't see as much of or, like myself, we feel pressured to make more gn!reader content to appeal to a perceived predominantly female audience?)
#writing#this is not BY ANY MEANS anti woman or complaining#i very much enjoy a lot of the writing content on this app#even if it assumes im petite or a bottom#of which i am not#but having to put everything into a filter to enjoy it makes me wonder if this is what its like for poc audiences#this isnt complaing btw#this is observing#male#male fanfic#male fanfic authors#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#wattpad#male authors#male writers#why doesnt anyone say male writers#where are the men#also im gay#if you couldnt tell
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Mr. Knight and Visually Comics Resemblances 💥
— Moon Knight (2022) | dir. Mohamed Diab
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A god and goddesses
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I've got another one
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Recreating this iconic pic of Oscar Isaac eating hot cheetos with chopsticks, but with a moonknight twist 😭🤚
#i have been staring at this for 20 hours#its beautiful#moon knight#mr knight#oscar isaac#marvel#mcu moon knight#marvel comics#marvel fanart#marvel studios#marvel cinematic universe#spiderman#marc spector#jake lockley#steven grant#steven grant x reader#marc spector x reader#moon knight x reader#khonsu#marvel series#thor love and thunder#marvel art
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Literally all I have been thinking about
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Writing Prompt #53 (Marc)
A/N: more angsty writing practice x Marc. Again, arguing, literally just a blurp of dialogue
Prompt #53: "You Always do this to me and I'm sick of it"
I stared deep into the dark brown eyes in front of me until they wouldn't meet my gaze, Marc looked away under my stares, trying to hide again.
"Damnit, Marc. Why didn't you tell me about the blackouts? We could have been handling things, together." I reached for his crossed hands but he retreated.
"I didn't want to involve you if I didn't have to, you didn't sign up for that." He said lowly, trying to brush it off. He was still trying to tuck his secrets behind him, even after all this time, and everytime he did it was like another pin in my heart. I scowled lightly at his words and nudged him gently to meet my eyes.
"Look, I did sign up for that when I married you. Stop trying to protect me from everything, you're shutting me out." Finally he met my eyes but they were stoic and determined, he has his mindset so stuck.
"I'm not shutting you out, there's just things that I handle on my own that you don't need to know about. I had Jake under control." He said, standing up and trying to dismiss the problem entirely, like I never should have known in the first place.
"Damnit, Marc. You always do this to me and I'm sick of it." I insisted, grabbing as his retreated arm and pulling him to face me, his expression slowly shifting to light surprise. "I don't care anymore if you think you can handle things on your own! Sometimes maybe you can, sometimes maybe you can't. Sometimes maybe you just fucking shouldn't. But regardless, I married you to be your partner, I share my life with you. All of it. I would like to feel like sometimes, you do the same."
I sighed and a silence fell between us. I looked down, and slowly let go of his arm. As I stared at my feet, taking deep breaths, I could hear his breathing in front of me and I almost thought I could hear the thoughts turning in his mind as my words sunk in. Slowly he took a light step towards me and I felt a strong but gentle hand lift my chin upwards to meet his dark brown eyes once more. His expression had changed, but I couldn't tell to what. Maybe it was remorse, maybe it was guilt, maybe a little anger but who knows who he was mad at. But behind all the masks I saw the flick of love in the back of his eyes.
"I'm sorry."
#writers#writing practice#dialouge#marc spector x gn!reader#marc spector x y/n#marc spector#moonknight fic#moonknight
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Writing Prompt #35 (Marc)
A/N: just a quick dialogue of angst between Marc X married!gn reader, marriage issues, Marc X reader, fighting
Prompt 35: "Don't pretend you haven't thought about a life without me in it"
As much as I'd hoped most of our issues, the marriage issues we have, we're resolved in the past month now that Marc wasn't hiding so many major details from me...sometimes I was still wrong.
It was times like this, the loud fighting, the begging for less secrets, that I remember the divorce papers I once signed, even if now I regret that.
"Look, there are things you don't need to know. Won't you trust me that I know what's best kept buried?" Marc threw at me, gesturing vaugely as he argued about his past- about the things I still didn't know.
"Well clearly you don't! That's why you lost control of your life in the first place and why you ended up in such a mess!" I stated back, the frustration only building at his failing points. His stare darkened and I felt a deep pang in my stomach that turned to quick regret.
"And? So what. A mess. I handled it. You didn't need to get tangled up in it." He stated curtly, "You didn't need to know." He turned away just lightly and I sighed, reaching out.
"Marc, please, when will you stop turning me away! I married you and when I did, I said I would be there for you. No matter what. I want to be tangled up your messes!" I insisted earnestly, trying to reach out to him but I could almost feel his energy hiding away.
"My messes are too much, you didn't agree to all THIS," he gestured vaugely around and towards his head, "on the marriage certificate. I make your life nothing but difficult now." He turned to me with a bitter look, but he looked at the floor and I couldn't tell if the sour look was aimed at me or himself. "Don't pretend you haven't thought about a life without me in it."
Ba-dum God it felt like a bowling ball dropped on my heart and a heartbroken panic struke me.
Marc.
"Marc." I called, cupping his face in my hands and pulling his head up to look me in the eyes, my tone came across more serious then I ever intended. "Of course I have. I had no choice but to face that thought...when YOU tried to divorce me. And when you died." I paused, taking a deep, shaky breath as I looked into the breaking eyes of my husband, and tried not to cry as I spoke. "And it hurt-so fucking bad-you couldn't even imagine. And I never want to face that again. I want you in my life, so much. I need you in my life. Always and forever.
Because I love you."
#writers#writing practice#marc spector#marc spector x gn!reader#marc spector x y/n#moonknight#moonknight fic#can i even tag this fic if its not even 1k lol#anywho
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@darklordofthesimp 's amazing prompt list which inspires my daily writing practice ngl 🥴😩 going to try to see how many I can write before the summer is over
Prompt List
You can be angry at me all you want. I'm doing this to protect you
I don't want your protection, I don't need it
I thought you were dead!
If that were the case, I wouldn't be here
You're hurting me
You're living proof that natural selection isn't real
You're scaring me
I hate you
You're exhausting to be around.
You don't know anything about me
Why do you hate me?
Stop... don't come any closer
I thought you were different
I know you don't trust me but I need you to listen to me
This isn't you
I don't trust a single word that comes out of your mouth
Please... stop
You're so fucking naive
You're embarrassing me
You broke your promise
Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?
I can't be your happy ending
I'm here, I'm not going anywhere
You pretended to love me and, like an idiot, I believed you
You used me
How can you stand there and pretend that this isn't your fault
I thought you loved me.
Did you miss me?
Could you pretend, just for a second, that I mean something to you?
What I said before... I didn't mean that. I didn't mean any of it.
I meant every word
I was drowning right in front of you and you were too busy to notice
How could you think that this wouldn't hurt me?
What have I done to make you hate me so much?
Don't pretend that you haven't thought about a life without me in it
You lied to me
You've been lying to me this entire time and you don't even regret it.
Do I make you nervous?
Why are you hiding from me?
You've been avoiding me all day
Did you always know that you were going to leave?
Please say something
I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you
You said that you weren't going to hurt me
Stop looking at me like you wish I was them! I'm not them, I'll never be them!
I'm never going to be good enough for you, am I?
I forget how to speak whenever you're around and it's embarrassing.
You make me feel things... things that I shouldn't.
I hate you because I fucking love you!
Don't move, I'm coming to get you.
You're so beautiful it hurts.
You're all that I have
You always do this to me and I'm sick of it
If you'd gotten hurt... I would have killed them all myself
I want to kiss you
I want you so fucking bad and I can't have you
You're shaking
I know everything about you, you have nowhere to hide
Did I.... did I do this?
I want to taste your smile
I don't know how to love you
Put the blaster down, I'm not going to hurt you.
Make a sound and I'll kill you right here
That kiss... did you mean it?
Make me
It's always been you. Only you.
Don't look at me like that.
Are you afraid of me?
Shut up or I'll shut you up.
You're really close right now
You're driving me out of my fucking mind
Say that again. I dare you.
If you trained the way you mouthed off you might be able to beat me
You're afraid of me
Nothing will ever compare to the way I feel about you
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Domestic Bliss
Marc Specter X gn!reader
Summary: Despite quite literally being your husband of a year and a half, Marc wasn't much used to domestic life. Now, since he wasn't constantly off galavanting in the suit, he was starting to witness a life with you he realized he'd be missing out on. Aka. you clean a carpet and he watches.
Tags/Warning: Marc X Reader, second person POV, gn!reader, you're married to Marc, fluff, literally pure fluff, no mentions of the other moon boys, literally 700 words
A/N: Okay so not only is this my first fic/ one shot I've posted to Tumblr, but this is also my first Marc Specter piece...and also my first time writing in this style so it's kinda trash ngl, it just kinda came to my head in the moment
As you sat back on your heels, staring at the carpet in frustration, Marc silently got back home. He set down his stuff and wandered over, tired, to see what you were up to. He was surprised to find you with your sleeves rolled up scrubbing at a stain.
The stain, made from flower pollen, had been there for quite a bit since neither of you had any spare time much. It was frequently greeted by absent "oh yeah, gotta get that" and a lazy wave of the hand as one of the two of you hustled off to do a more important task.
However, today when cleaning you'd gotten a bit distracted and finally decided to simply spray it and try to get it out. But as you huffed indignantly trying to push and pull at the carpet with a wet paper towel, Marc stood behind the counter in silent amusement. Slowly his shoulders relaxed, and the tired scowl he'd worn walking in was slowly turning into a smug grin. As you cleaned, oblivious to his presence, he couldn't help but watch the love of his life pathetically fail to clean a simple carpet stain. A little moment that a month ago might have seemed so trivial, left a warm feeling in his chest.
Finally resolved to the fact that you were just smearing the pollen deeper, you sat back on your heels with a dissatisfied look. The only thing keeping your mood up was the music you had bumping from the speaker, which sang out "Dancing in the moonlight." As Marc gently tapped his toe to the music, wondering absent mindedly about when you would notice, you finally looked over with a start.
"Marc! Jesus, how long have you been there?" You said with a little shake of your head, recovering from the tiny heart attack as your husband smiled loosely.
"Just long enough. You're adorable, you know that?" He said, walking to the other side of the counter as you raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the little flustered blush rising to your cheeks.
"I can't get this damned carpet stain out." You said, clearly a little frustrated about it, and mumbled "not sure what's so cute about that."
Marc smiled and leaned down, cupping your cheek and placing a quick peck on the other side of your face, "Nothing. I'm just a little in love with you." He said matter of fact, turning to go grab some different cleaning solution.
"A little?" You scoffed playfully, "you better mean a lot or I'm returning that watch on your wrist." You said as he started to walk away, looking back to tease,
"Mm I dunno, a little, a lot, whose to say?"
And with that you threw the wet paper towel at his retreating behind as he laughed lightly and called out lazily. "Fine. A lot!"
"Uhuh nice try. What 'a lot?'" you hollared back.
"I love you. A LOT." He said, looking back smugly before ducking into the laundry room.
"Good!" You called out after him, sitting back on your heels in satisfaction and smiling to yourself. As much as he annoyed you sometimes, and was one of the most stubborn people you knew, you returned his feelings probably ten fold. As you retrieved the thrown paper towel, threw it away and got a new one, Marc returned from behind you with a bottle of stronger cleaner in one hand and the other he slid around your waist, resting his head into the crook of your neck.
"You gonna say it back?" He hummed as you looked up at him in fact thought.
"Hm I dunno, are you gonna help me clean this stain?" You asked and he wiggled the cleaner bottle in front of you in response. "Fine. I love you," you said turning into him till the front of your warm bodies were pressed against each other and your noses were mere inches apart, "a lot." You whispered into him, closing the gap and kissing him for the first time today.
#moon knight#moonknight#moon knight fic#moonboys#marc spector x y/n#marc spector#marc spector x reader#marc spector x gn!reader
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Opia (Marc Spector x Reader)
Getting Marc to admit how he felt was an impossible task, you hadn't realized that he was trying to tell you through his actions.
Requested by Anon: #70 You're really close right now
From THIS prompt list.
A/N: Marc is my favorite Moon Boy and I say that confidently.
Category: Hurt/Comfort - Mutual Pining- Angst to Fluff- Friends to Lovers
Warnings: Swearing, Description of Injury, Suggestive Themes
You threw your head back, stifling a groan.
Sweat dripped down the length of your spine as an indescribable heat simmered beneath your skin. This was your own personal torture. You couldn't think, couldn't breathe, it was like a thick fog had settled over your mind and you couldn't find your way out. The muscles of your core tightened and cramped as your teeth dug into your bruised lips.
You were bleeding out.
Not only that, you were bleeding out all over Marc's couch.
"I've got everything," Marc muttered, his face solemn as he assessed your wounds. The last of the supplies clattered onto the stained wooden table and you watched as he threw himself into action.
There was an alcohol-doused rag in his hand before you could blink. You were surprised he hadn't just poured vodka straight into bloodied slice across your leg.
The man was on a mission, leaning in to clean the wound with an urgency that startled you. You couldn't help but flinch away from him. You knew your life was in danger but the idea of vodka in a gash that size made you unreasonably nervous.
His hand faltered, hovering above your skin.
"Relax," he comforted, watching you carefully from beneath a hooded gaze. "You don't need to worry."
You nodded, your anxiety only rising.
Marc swallowed, "I can't do this if you're tense."
You glared at him, heart pounding wildly in your chest. "I'm bleeding out. Of course, I'm tense."
His eyebrows raised at the hostility in your words but you didn't miss the upward quirk of his lips. "Alright," he shrugged smugly, "have it your way."
Gently, the rag lowered to your skin and you hissed as it made contact. It felt like someone was raking lava across your thigh and the burning sensation was almost unbearable. Tears were already free-falling from your lashes, that boat had sailed long ago. Through everything you had experienced, you thought that this was by far the most painful injury you'd obtained.
"Fuck," you groaned, throwing your head back against the couch hard. You were sure that you were dying and all the fantasies you'd had of a peaceful passing were thrown out the window.
"You know," Marc murmured distractedly, "I'm a little disappointed."
You barked an indignant cough, glaring at him from beneath your lashes. If he wasn't tending to your injuries you would have thrown hands by now, undoubtedly.
"You're disappointed?" You snapped.
"Oh, cut the shit," The man said with a small grin, "you're being dramatic, it's a scratch."
You would have laughed if you hadn't seen the sheer terror in his eyes beforehand. The fear in his voice when he had discovered you bleeding was imprinted across the plains of your mind. Marc was usually unshakeable, a snarky but stern character that brushed things off.
The way his voice shook and his hands wavered when he'd set you down with orders to put pressure on the injury. It had made you nervous.
"I'm gonna start stitching now," he glanced up at you. You gave a curt nod and he sighed through his nose, turning to his make-shift operating table. You almost missed the way he glared at his hands, clenching them hard. They were shaking, despite the fact that he had done this procedure thousands of times. His fingers were stained scarlet with your own blood and you think that's what he hated.
It was your blood.
The stitches went by in a blur, mostly because you were in and out of consciousness. The white-hot pain of the needle was nothing compared to the wound you had managed to achieve.
After washing his hands, Marc set to clean up the rest of your battered body. Armed with a cool, damp rag, he set to work on the small lacerations across your arms. Then your chest and neck, and by the time he had made it to your face, your heart was in overdrive.
He was only inches away, leaning over you to swipe areas along your jaw and hairline. You had never seen him so focused on such a simple task. He didn't make any eye contact despite your blatant staring, tunnel vision had him ensuring there were no more major injuries that he had missed.
He was terrified.
You could smell the remnants of his cologne, delicately perched beneath the powerful layer of smoke. Tonight had been an absolute shit fight. You couldn't even remember where the fire had made its entrance, but you'd left that one to your fast-healing friend.
The rag swiped gently over your brow and you hissed, drawing his attention. Finally, he made eye contact, watching you with a wary gaze.
There was a heavy silence, thick with tension from words that remained unsaid. The cloth stilled against your face as Marc paused his ministrations altogether. You were certain that he could hear your heart beating against your ribs, begging you to say something, begging him to just lean in a little closer.
His thumb lowered to your cheek, dragging along the skin in a soft caress.
He'd almost lost you.
Neither of you had truly spoken about the way you had felt for each other. It was complicated and messy to put labels on anything, and saying it aloud felt like you would only jinx it.
But as he came even closer, you knew Marc showed it through his actions, rather than words.
"You're really close right now," you breathed, a whisper against his skin.
A slow smile lifted the corner of his mouth, his hand moving to cup your jaw. It felt like the entire atmosphere shifted.
"Am I?" He asked coyly, his voice barely a murmur. But you had heard it clear as day; as if someone had broadcasted it across the plains of your mind.
You nodded mutely, the tip of your nose almost brushing against his.
Your heart squeezed from within your chest, and you breathed him in as he did the same, both of you frozen in a state of longing. This was the threshold, everything you had both held back on in fear of losing what you already had.
But today, he had realized life was fleeting. And today, you had realized you loved him.
A recipe for disaster.
"Are you sure?" The words were sonorous and teasing. Your core tightened at the sound of them falling from his tongue. There was a longing in your chest that felt urgent and desperate, you needed him, now more than ever.
"I'm pretty su-" your words were cut off by his mouth on yours.
He was a patient man, right up until he wasn't. You had the skill of stripping him of his restrained composure and leaving him bare, open for you to see him, all of him.
Marc's lips were warm, and his presence was overwhelming. His body caged yours in, enveloping you in an embrace you had only dreamed of for such a long time. His skin was hot, burning every inch of your body with such a delicious sear that you could have gotten easily addicted to the feeling of it.
He was careful not to jostle your wounds, even when he wanted nothing more than to drag you beneath him.
You were drunk off of his touch, the dance of your lips intimate and needy and urgent.
When his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, a gentle request in an otherwise heated moment, you knew that you would never be sated.
He was an addiction and you loved him. You murmured it against his lips, over and over. You said it like a prayer, you didn't care, he had to have known a long time ago.
"Say it again."
"I love you."
His hand drifted across the length of your neck, "again."
"I love you."
"Good."
And when he smiled against your mouth, you knew he loved you too.
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