#mpmarklee

[exmpxfelix]

just forget it;

@mpmarklee

Felix would never admit it, but he was not doing too well. It was hard to act like everything was just okay and keep being sunshine-y Felix when he felt so hurt and lonely. Maybe it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own, falling too hard too quick for someone admittedly kind of flaky. But the first cut is always the deepest, right?

And how to cope with this heartbreak? There were probably a lot of healthier alternatives, but when just trying to ignore the hurt did not work, he decided to try to make himself forget it. He had been touching strangers’ and friends’ hands and giving out advice to help them avoid misfortune more often than ever before the last week or two, hoping that his memories of Hyunjin would just go away.

But it was backfiring. He still remembered what hurt, and he was forgetting a lot of important things. People’s names. His apartment number. How to get to the store. Appointments. When his shifts started and ended. And most recently, he had just forgotten where he worked altogether. It was... somewhere. A big building where he worked with a lot of people he knew at the front desk. But what was it called? And where was it? So he was just wandering around the streets, hoping to find it.

He was startled out of his confused thoughts when someone approached him, calling his name. He stared at the other male for a long moment, his brow slightly furrowed in an uncharacteristic way. The guy looked familiar. He did. But who was he? Nothing immediately sprung to mind. Just play it cool, Felix. “Um, hi! What’s up?”

[exmpsveinn]

monopoly mind ,,

@mpmarklee continued from here: 

(...) Suddenly, his inner voice speaks up an advice - which is, actually, not a bad idea. Grabbing the phone that has been forgotten for a short while next to him, Mark excuses himself and get back to his bedroom upstairs. Taking a few more minutes of thinking, he then determinedly tap on Sveinn’s name on the screen. It doesn’t take his friend too long to pick up, and Mark starts right away before he can regret it and hang up like a coward. “Hi Sveinn! So, um, do you have a moment? I think I need to ask you something, if you don’t mind...”

it’s second christmas day when all of a sudden his phone rings. or more accurately; it’s already third christmas day, if such a thing exists, though very very early in the morning and the only reason he’s not cracking open eyelids heavy with sleep is because he’s in his studio, painting fervently like there’s some deadline he has to reach. in reality it’s just that the muse has been strong these past few days, and all paintings are a strange abstract view on rumpled sheets and soft skin, it seems.

still, he’s so focused that he doesn’t realise his phone rings until a ring or two have passed, and then he frowns lightly, only to instantly reach for it when he reads the name on the screen. he tucks the phone between his shoulder and his ear after picking up, so that his hands can get back to his work. “hello mark,” he says, a little surprised but it’s definitely not audible in his voice.

as he listens to his friend explain his reason for calling as well as asking for a moment of his time, he straightens up a bit better, a little frown of worry on his features. “no, it’s fine,” he says calmly. “i have time.” he looks at his paint brush for a moment, then at the unfinished painting, and for perhaps one of the very few times in his life, decides to put the brush down and get up from his chair so he can focus all his attention on his friend on the other side. “what’s up?”

[phobetorxmp]

The Lonely Luxe

starter for @mpmarklee​ ft phobetor & mark 

“Your usual table, sir?” with a glance to his right, Phobetor nods softly to the restaurant's front of house host, as hands help slip the long, black coat that was resting on his broad, sharp shoulders. Turning a little he helps it go, before leaving it in the hands of the server, as he follows the path into the restaurant carved by the host, towards his usual table. The escort’s business here was regular and like clockwork. He sat alone, ate quietly and enjoyed a bottle of good vintage, before paying including a generous tip and would leave, to be seen again the next week. Regular, dependable and always alone.  

Noonas offered the god of nightmares two things he enjoyed, some peace in solitary and luxury. Phobetor knows how to treat himself well after spending so much time in the pursuit of the pleasure of others. With a turn of his body the tall, slim god slips past people as they walk through the restaurant. Black clutch bag held to his hip, silky blouse tucked in at an impossibly skinny and high waist, with a low cut caused by open buttons, showing a hint of pale chest. “Thank you-” he murmurs gently as the seat is pulled out and he lowers himself down, hand reaching out to take the wine menu offered. “I will go for the Chambertin tonight” he hums, passing it back before raking his fingers up through glossy black locks and sculpts it back from his face. 

With the food menu left and his peace and alone time truly beginning, Phobetor sighs as he lifts one leg over the other and rests his hands relaxed, palms up in his lap, gaze cast outwards at the quiet world passing by the floor to ceiling windows. For a short while he was not part of the world and could just enjoy watching it pass. 

[exmpxdiana]

bit of a fright;

@mpmarklee -- continued from [ here ]

Diana liked hanging out with Mark. He was weirdly nice and understanding, considering how they had met-- and then there was the fact that they were both from Toronto. And considering there did not seem to be a lot of Canadian demigods on the island, it was nice to be around someone who knew the places she knew and missed the things she missed.

She was feeling quite content as they wandered back to campus, enjoying the sunshine and the gentle ocean breeze that stirred the newly-opened leaves. She had just opened her mouth to make a comment about how nice it was when she suddenly spotted someone familiar up the street heading in their direction, making her stop and grab Mark’s arm fearfully. She heard him ask her what was wrong, but her voice was caught in her throat. Luckily, her ex seemed to be engrossed in talking to the pretty woman on his arm, so he had not looked in their direction yet.

It took a moment for her to recover, taking a sharp breath and suddenly pulling Mark down a side street they had been passing. “L-Let’s go this way! We’re in no rush, right?” She realized that her fingers were digging into his arm and quickly let him go, walking so fast she was nearly jogging. “It’s a, um, lovely day, after all.”

[exmpsveinn]

rad buns ,,

@mpmarklee continued from here:

“Sveinn, put.me.down!”

Mark demanded again, even punctuated his words with light pats against Sveinn’s back, but somehow his voice made it sound more like a whine. Mark had downed a little bit too much beer for his own good, which turned walking into a trickier task to be done than usual, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t.

The next thing he knew when they were out of the club was that he was on Sveinn’s shoulder. Needless to say, he got panicked, but embarrassment was the main reason for Mark to protest the elder’s doing. The position he was in prevented him from seeing much but the ground and the other demigod’s backside. A short stretch of silence passed, and Mark even didn’t know that he had just said his thought aloud. “Wow, Sveinn’s got really rad buns.”

mark’s complaints seemingly fall on deaf ears, sveinn keeping the younger man carefully balanced over one shoulder as he walks away from the bar they’d been having some drinks at and heads over towards home. his own home, that is, because he doesn’t even have an inkling of where exactly mark lives. he could probably find out quite easily by asking the man, but he’s long learned not to trust too much the judgement of a man who can hardly walk straight anymore.

luckily the protests stop soon enough, mark apparently distracted by something else. what that something is, is revealed not too long after when the young man comments quite freely upon... sveinn’s ass, apparently.

he can’t help snorting loudly at the comment, turning his head lightly to look at the youth slung over his shoulder, before he quite easily and unabashedly slaps mark’s butt - more of a pat really. “you should be more concerned with your own buns right now,” he says easily. “and have stopped drinking before it interfered with your capacity to walk properly. i’m taking you to my place, you can find your way home when you’re sober again tomorrow.”

[exmpsveinn]

,, drunkdial

@mpmarklee

work has been quite busy the past couple of days, so sveinn has been going to bed relatively early to be able to handle the near full day work shifts he’s planned for himself. admittedly, these plans don’t always work out for him, but it appears he’s got a much easier time falling asleep on the mysterious island than he’s ever had anywhere else.

what is not in his plans, not even once, is the sound of his ringtone breaking through a blissful, dreamless oblivion and pulling his mind back to the surface from the farthest reaches of the void where it had resided until then. it takes him a few, disoriented seconds before he even realises what is making the sound, and then he moves to turn over, get up out of bed and walk over to where his phone is tucked into the back pocket of yesterday’s jeans.

mark, the screen says when he finally turns it to face him, and he has to squint against the bright light of it all. 2:14 am is visible right beneath the name, but he doesn’t fully process the ungodly hour as his mind is mostly stuck on the caller itself. for a moment he wonders what on earth his ex would be calling him for this late at night, but then he thinks it might have something to do with the tattoo - maybe there’s some sort of infection or irritation - and so he decides to take the call.

he’s not yet capable of formulating proper words, so the noise that he sends into the receiver is something of a grunt combined with a hum. he would feel bad for the lack of proper speech if it weren’t ass-o-clock in the morning and if the greeting that is returned to him from the other side isn’t so entirel flabbergasting that he can do nothing but just stand there with the phone to his ear.

“daddyyy!!!!” is half-cheered into the line from the other side, the familiar voice light and careless in a way that he remembers it from all those years ago. he doesn’t even know what response such a title should get, though, so he just steps backwards until his legs hit the bed and sits down on it, listening to the voice on the other end of the phone with nothing but bone-deep confusion coursing through him.

[exmpxdiana]

miscalculation;

@mpmarklee

Diana had known it was a mistake to say yes when one of her neighbours suggested that she join her and her friends at the bar that night. Or, at least, she should have known. But, well, she was not exactly rolling in friends, so she had thought that maybe it would be a good opportunity to get to know some other people-- some girls, in particular, since she was seriously lacking in the girlfriends department. However, it had only taken about twenty minutes for the neighbour and her friends to decide that Diana was a little too quiet for their tastes, so in no time at all she was standing by the bar alone, sipping on a soda because she had not wanted to leave without purchasing anything.

And then, suddenly, she was not alone. A rather tipsy guy slid up next to her and started asking about her; her name, how her day had been, why she was there alone. She answered all the questions shyly, although she was sort of relieved to not have to stand there awkwardly by herself. A little small-talk was a nice way to pass the time, and this way the bartender would not think she was so pitiful.

All was fine and dandy until the nature of the conversation took a sudden left turn into Yikesville. One moment she had been telling him that she worked at a sweets shop, and the next minute his hands were on her waist and he was telling her how sweet he suspected she tasted. Alarmed, she took a step back and she was prepared to make a beeline for the door when a rough hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back. Uh oh.

[mpxcharlotte]

" hey! you left your wallet at the coffee shop. "

breaking the ice meme | accepting

Charlotte looked up from her phone as she heard a voice above the din of the street, glancing around to see what was going on. She hadn't really expected that she was the one being called out to until the stranger stopped in front of her, and indeed her wallet was in his hand. Geez, how careless.

"Oh gods, thank you! Not to be cliche, but I'm useless before my first coffee," she commented, holding up the iced coffee in her other hand as she took her wallet back. "You're such a hero. I never would have heard the end of it from my sister if I lost this..."