The Meadow

Marcello 'Marci' Cerbiatto Prince of the forest 4th Year Art club president Cheerleading Co-captain

[yoonmin]

how to wear flower crowns according to park jimin

[fypjm]

[drlelandsoffice]

The Excessively Detailed Headcanon Tumblr Meme

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Send me some numbers, and I will tell you:

What does their bedroom look like?

Do they have any daily rituals?

Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

Eating habits and sample daily menu

Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Makeup?

Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Intellectual pursuits?

Favorite book genre?

Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Favorite beverage?

What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

What is their biggest regret?

Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

Most prized possession?

Thoughts on material possessions in general?

Concept of home and family?

Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

What makes them feel guilty?

Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

How misanthropic are they?

Hobbies?

How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

Religion?

Superstitions or views on the occult?

Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

How do they express love?

If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

[fbxmarcello]

[olivia-baker]

[jiminparks-leaving-deactivated2]

[honeyedrabbit]

[adrienlim-blog1]

@fbxmarcello·

Amaru had grown to love days such as this. It was an early morning, 5 past 7 on a day that had no lessons, with the sun barely scraping across the tips of blades of green, that swayed in the breeze. He wasn’t one to get up early, not usually, but something recently had flipped a switch inside of him, and here he was admiring the upcoming sunrise.

And today he wasn’t alone. 

Though not one to usually start conversation, he felt that the situation called for it; such a perfect setting seemed too much of a waste to miss. It was certainly a sight to be shared as an experience, yet the kind that couldn’t be captured in a mere photo. Moments like this were meant to be salvaged with one’s own eye.

Slightly puffed eyes crinkled at the corners as he shone a genuine smile at the company to the left of him. Signs of sleep were still evident on his features, but he could care less about his appearance. The scenery outshone him anyway.

“…What a sight, huh.”

[fbxmarcello]

Rufious was probably going to be upset that he left so early in the morning, but as an artist, Marci has needs and lately he has been craving to get a good sunrise painting into his sketchbook. There really wasn’t anything wrong with this particular morning. It was nice and soft, albeit a little chill in the air, but it only gave him reason to snuggle deeper into the sweatshirt he had swiped from the other's boy’s closet before he had slipped out. 

He just wasn’t quite feeling it.

The sketchbook lay abandoned in the grass and the morning dew was seeping into his jeans while he dozed in his little grassy spot he has planted himself down. The ground wasn’t exactly forgiving on his terribly sore muscles, but he’s felt worse (nothing could compare to that twelve-hour cheerleading practice before regionals last year that had muscles he didn’t even know existed absolutely screaming at him) 

Marci just barely registers that there’s another person who’s insane enough to be up this early on a weekend.

And then when he pipes up and drags the deer out of his sleepy little daze, it takes Marci a real minute to give him an answer, eyes lazily shifting over to the bright boy and he’s way too dazed and tired to put up his cheerful Marci face. Right now he’s just a sleepy Marci who wants to go back in crawl in bed with Ru. 

“Yeah.” Marci hums, a polite little smile curving on his lips. “You’re not too bad yourself--” And then his eyes shift to the sunrise and....

“I mean- uh.” Oops. 

“Yeah-- the sunrise... it’s always... uh pretty.” 

[fyeahbangtaned]

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[fbxmarcello]

He doesn’t protest and he doesn’t wine. Instead, Marci only curls his fingers into a little fist and keeps his eyes squeezed shut. He answers with a little nod because that’s all he can muster as soon as he hears the deafening click of the cap. He breathes in a shaky breath, full of anticipation as his head lulls back a little. 

There’s a shiver racing down Marci’s spine, a whimpered “Please.” and hot tears slide down his cheeks-- partly from pleasure and even if he won’t admit it, maybe just a little from the whole overwhelming feelings of having Kaspian like this again. To have him press up close, hands on Marci’s skins, digging in marks that he remembers getting before and calling him things like babe. 

And in the next second, Marci is frozen, eyes snapping open and mouth in a perfect, pleased ‘o’. He can’t even bring himself to care right now that he’s smeared quite a decent bit of precum on the wall and that his knees are shaking from the neglect to his own cock. 

Marci doesn’t care, not when Kaspian is finally pressing up inside him, so slowly and so hot. 

“I--” He sobs, broken and if he was gone before, there’s no way that Marci is coming back. Ther’es no way he could put into words just how much he’s missed this so instead, he just pushes back against the other even if it might earn him a bit of scolding. He doesn’t care. He just needs more-- way more. 

“Ah-- ah!” Praises in his ear are nothing compared to just how full he feels and it’s belated, extremely too late, but Marci is realizing that this the last thing they needed, one last taste of each other to really do them in. 

But when Kaspian gets like this-- reduces Marci to a sobbing, begging mess that can’t even hold himself up at this point, well, it’s a little hard. 

“Harder.” He yelps because while he appreciates the other trying to ease him into it, it’s not what he needs. “Please-- More. Kaspian-- I need more.” 

This was happening. It was way too late to back out now and Marci is only backing into the other, trying only more futility to press his hips back. 

“Please-- I wanna feel you for weeks.”

[deafening--thoughts]

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[fbxmarcello]

A wet sigh and Marci is absolutely melting. He whimpers pathetically into the other’s mouth, kissing him right back whole-heartedly and with an eagerness that only screams desperate. 

He was always weak for Kaspian’s kisses and not a single thing has changed. 

Not even when he tilts his head the best he can, squirming in the other’s grasp now because even two fingers into enough. Not for what Marci is craving and Kaspian’s words still race through him, right as he nearly slams his forehead into the wall when fingers press up into him just right and of course, Kaspian always did have a knack for getting in all the right spots. Marci should have expected that and the fingers pressing against his prostate are a stark reminder that has him clawing at the wall again, thighs shaking and breath stuttering before he’s just stopping. 

Marci’s eyes flutter shut, lips parted in a silent moan. 

And then he’s mumbling, soft and pitiful with the pitch of a needy little mewl, “It’s always only been you.”

But before Marci can say more, he’s feeling much too empty and a fresh wave of tears are protesting this as his head is yanked back and he yelps, loud, a hand coming to grab at Kaspian’s wrist, but not pull him away. 

“You.” Marci isn’t sure how many times Kaspian is going to make him say it and oh. Oh, he knows exactly what he wants. He remembers this game, this little test to see just what kind of dirty things that he can make Marci sob.  

And he’ll play along even now because he’s too weak for Kaspian. 

The lull in his needy sobbing, only dulling to soft sniffles and tiny whimpers, is overpowered by the unmistakable clink of a belt and suddenly-- he can’t breathe. 

“Kaspian. Kaspian, please. I need you inside of me. I want you-- Kaspian, you know I love y--” No. Even in his haze and blind neediness, he knows that’s not right and twists it, choppy and broken, “Your cock inside of me. I miss it so much, I need it.” 

Another hitch and mindlessly he’s nodding, once and then quickly, eyes squeezed shut. “Oh god, please. I wanna feel you-- all of you. Please, please.” 

[fbxkaspian-deactivated20201019]

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[fbxmarcello]

“O-ow.” 

Marci’s whimpers have dulled to a quiet as he tried so hard to obey and do as he was told, but he just needs some kind of relief. He needs it so bad and his chest his tight as he tries to suck in a breath. “Ow-- ah. That hurts.” Yes it hurts and there’ll be teeth marks in his neck for who knows how long, but it’s practically burning Marcello alive in the best of ways. It’s just something he can’t get enough of.  

Voice teary and breathy, Marci’s fingers dig into the wall for any kind of purchase to somehow ground him, but he gets nothing as he sobs, “That’s hurts-- I’m sorry, Kaspian. I’m sorry.” But his apologies are short lived, instead, he’s cutting himself off to choke on a gasp, eyes wide. 

The feeling of the undeniable arousal of the other pressing to close to him and the sudden sting of a harsh hand on his ass has Marci’s knees buckling, the only thing keeping him up is how Kaspian is pinning him. 

“I need you.” It’s whispered, immediately followed by a sob. A sob that’s breaking out into a mess of needy tears the moment the other steps away and Marci really does sink down a few inches, forehead resting on the wall as his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Kaspian-- please, Kaspian. Listen-- I want...” Except he can’t exactly pinpoint what he wants. He wants it all. He wants this again, but permanently and he’s going to beat himself up over the fact that Rufious is nowhere near his thoughts right now-- not until Kaspian is stepping back over to him. Even if it took no less than a minute or two it felt like an eternity and one hand is blindly reaching behind him, looking for anything to hold onto. He just needs to touch the other boy. “Kiss-- I want a kiss. Please.” 

Marci has always been a kisser, always looking for that hot press of lips, someone to lick into his mouth just right-- and god, was Kaspian always the best kisser. 

“Oh.” The press of fingers is so easy and a shiver races through him, fingers twitching to hold onto something, anything other than scrambling at the wall. Hot shame floods through him because in this hazy state, everything making him weak. 

“No one--” A hitch in his breath and he’s giving a loud moan, unabashed and surely his neighbors will hear. “No one fucks me as good as you.” God, he practically so hard he’s aching now, not getting the attention where he needs it and it only makes him more desperate, more eager for Kaspian to wreck him even further. 

“Please-- fuck me already. I need you.” 

[fbxrufious-blog]

•••

its not long before Ru finds himself placing his finger on the others lips to shut him up and to stop him from saying anything else. “we both know you’ll want it the second we get through that door.” his eyes stare into his eyes before his lips curl into a soft grin. “now shut up, be a good boy and move those legs of yours.”

[fbxmarcello]

“You’re so sweet.” Marci says, sure and quiet as he tries to nuzzle his nose into the other’s side only to stumble a bit and only barely manage to recover, giggles bubbling up from his chest, loud and bright and Marci is only mumbling, “oops.” 

But he doesn’t say anything more, only nods because he knows that Rufious is right. He knows. It’s like he can’t get enough of the boy anyways and it’s only worse when his head is swimming like this and Rufious is so there and so close to him. Teeth sink into his bottom lip as he stops himself from saying something embarrassing, like just how much he wants the other to never leave or how he probably shouldn’t acting this clingy. 

But maybe it’s obvious enough in how he’s looking up at Rufious with absolute adoration, lips curling into a little, content smile and his fingers curl tighter in the other’s shirt. 

A soft, pleased sigh as he focuses mostly on trying not to tip over and he can already see the dorm building, a few lights on. It’s not until they’re nearly right at the entrance that Marci speaks up again, voice softer and almost hard to hear. “I always want you, Ru...” 

Now that they’re practically standing in front of the building door-- the quick thought of how he’s going to master the stairs crosses his mind, it’s easier to see and obvious tear tracks are still stark on his flushed cheeks, hair mussed and looking a little embarrassed at he clumsily manages to tug the younger to a stop before they slip inside. 

“I wanna sleep with you.” It’s reminiscent of the very first time Rufious had ever ended up in Marci’s grasp. “You’re always so nice to me and I really wanna sleep with you.” And now that he’s not trying to stay upright he can make himself at home snuggling right into Rufious’s chest again, words a little muffled. “You’re so nice to me when you fuck me-- when I ask you to be. I like it so much. I like you so much and--” A little hiccup as he pulls away, not quite looking at the other, keeping his eyes down. 

“And... you’ll probably have to carry me up the stairs--” 

[fbxmarcello]

obeying marcello’s commands, he adjusts his position to the artist’s liking without much thought.  as he watches the boy rattle off what he should do with gentle hands, alec debates putting an end to this drawing session in exchange for something a little more intimate, but refrains. 

he smiles faintly at the compliment said toward him, gaze meeting marci’s. remaining quiet, his eyes flutter shut at the digits in his hair, almost wishing for the contact a bit longer when it leaves. he sighs in an almost content way, gnawing on his bottom lip. “ mm. ”    

The desk chair scraped loud across the floor as Marci drags it over and plants himself down. As he collects his pencil from earlier and flips to a fresh page in his sketchbook, Marci honestly can’t explain the little shake to his fingers. There’s no reason for him to be nervous-- he knows he can do a good job, but then again, could he do Alec justice? That’s the worry. 

The silence in the room is deafening as he studied the other’s from with careful eyes, taking extreme care as he scratches down lines lightly, just for a guide. He’ll outline with a light pen once he’s done painting. His teeth worry at his bottom lip as he scribbles and erases and scribbles and openly stares. Alec looks perfect so this has to be perfect. 

“Have you...” Marci is hesitant to break the quiet, but he has to, it was almost getting to be a little too much. “Have you ever done this before? Modeled-- not nude, but I mean... have you?” But even as he speaks, voice soft and delicate, his main focus is the matching the lines on te page of his sketchbook with the boy in front of him. 

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[fbxmarcello]

There’s no use in hiding how much he obviously wants this. There’s no question about it, especially not at the keening whine tumbling out of his lips and he’s completely done for when a thigh forces his apart and there’s a delicious pressure right where he’s embarrassingly hard in his sweats. It only seals the deal when Kaspian is accusing him of such filthy, and completely true things. 

At this point, it was just a game of agreeing and pure submission. “P-please.” His voice was already weak and raw-- the earlier abuse to his throat not exactly making him hold up any better. “I love it. I love it so much--” As much as he hated to admit it to himself, no one could quite get his legs weak and make his heart stutter like Kaspian-- but it was something that Marci always tried to chalk down to it being a rule of firsts. First to ever have him and the only to ever get him so worked up to the point of utter madness. 

His knees would have given out if Kaspian hadn’t been holding up and as his eyes squeeze shut and it’s no use to hold back his tears anymore. “I want--” There’s hesitance in his hands as he reaches up to try and curl his fingers into the other’s shirt, but there’s pure desperation in his voice as he chokes out, “I want you to fuck me. Please-- I need it.”

He’s trying to grind his hips down on the other’s thigh-- to get more than what he’s being given, but it only breaking another frustrated sob from him before his breath is hitching in a hiccup at the growing tightness around his neck that almost sends him into a panic. His eyes snap open, and it doesn’t last long because Kaspian is pressing a searing kiss to his lips and-- oh god, he wants more. 

“Please. Please. Kaspian, please.” 

It’s short lived, much too short and if it’s the last thing he does in his life, Marci will get more from the other. He’s never quite gotten over his addiction to Kaspian’s mouth. And before he can beg more, plead for just one more little kiss, the wind of being knocked out of him, palms slamming on the wall to try and soften the knock against his chest, but it’s no use-- it only serves to knock more tears from him in a loud yelp. 

But then there’s a hand sliding down the front of his pants and-- “Kaspian!” His hips jerk up into the other’s hand and he wishes his cheek wasn’t pressed to the wall so he could just watch those pretty fingers around his cock all day. 

He still jerks himself off in the shower sometimes to the thought of Kaspian with a hand around him. 

Shivers rake through him as hot breath and even hotter words send him into a downright tizzy, little bubbles of needy tears and cries and Marci is nodding as best as he can, pure babble leaving his lips in teary words. 

“Please. Please-- Kaspian, please. I need it. I need you. I want--” 

A break for a weak moan and he’s right back at it. 

“Do-- do whatever you want. God, I’ve missed your cock so much-- missed you.” Sniffling, he squeezes eyes shut again and they’ve barely even managed to get a hand on each other and Marci is already so weak and so close.

“Please. I want it. I want you. Missed you-- missed you. Please. Fuck me.”

[softshenyi]