No Idea Of The Context Behind This Photo But The Oi Fandom Is So Blessed To Have It

Steven - the only real superpower Marc ever had - Grant

@mcuchallenge year of celebrations - Superhero Day

he just looks so torture-able . like it would be a disservice NOT to torture him.. . he WANTS to be tortured

100%

There is no universe in which he can last without some sort of help

I love him but he absolutely would go off immediately

sorry i came in 52 seconds i am obsessed with you

Abel graveyard

Sketch dump

Many attempts but I haven't landed on a pose I like after the first failed try

Oscar Isaac performing during open rehearsal of "Two Gentlemen of Verona" at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park, New York City, NY. (August, 2005) Courtesy of Christina Suwa/Pinterest

Omg how is this so cute?? Love him just taking the opportunity to cook in someone else's kitchen and his prophesies are so cute. I'm dying of sugar overload 🧁🍩

You know, "oracles" in ancient times were just high and their "prophecies" were just drug trips. This is why the oracle in the Percy Jackson books is described as a hippie.

I bet Cecil would love a fun fact like that.

He would!

Prophecies

Cecil Dennis x gn!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Warnings: fluff, Cecil's high, kisses, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 456

“So that kinda means all oracles were high off their heads when they made prophecies.” Cecil grins at you, his eyes a little glazed and red. He’s high, but not completely off his head. One of his many talents was the incredible threshold he’d developed, though he would call it more of a curse than a blessing. You’re pretty sure you could get a contact high just from standing too close to him. 

You snort and take a sip from your drink. “You got any prophecies to share then? Preferably the lottery numbers?” 

“Oh, seven for sure.” He nods sagely.

“Seven as in for the lottery numbers or seven prophecies?” 

He pauses for a second longer than he needs too, stroking his stumble. “Erm… the second one.” 

You chuckle again. When your friend had dragged you to this party you’d been planning on tapping out the second you could. It was her ex’s place, the original plan being to show up looking stunning and rub it in their face. 

However, that had gone out of the window after about twenty five minutes, and now you were sure they were banging in the bedroom. 

It had been a pleasant surprise when you saw Cecil was here, in the kitchen rummaging through the draws looking for a measuring jug and in the middle of making mac and cheese. 

“Did you bring the ingredients with you?”

“Nah, found them here… I mean who has a party without mac and cheese?”

You couldn’t fault his logic. 

You’d been sitting with him for the last few hours, talking intently about absolutely nothing. 

“So what are these seven prophecies then?” 

“Erm…” He thinks hard, looking around the room at the other people there for some sudden inspiration. 

“The sun…” He says a little hesitantly, before nodding. “Will rise tomorrow.” 

“I’ll hold you to that one.” You smile and tug softly on the curls at the nap of his neck. 

He giggles, shying away from you before pressing closer again. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” You pause, a little confused.

“Hold me to it.” He grins and rests his chin on your shoulder. “Or I’ll hold you.”

“And how are you gonna do that, huh?” You tease. 

Cecil wraps his arms around you, snuggling closer and pressing a light kiss to your neck. He hums happily when you shiver at the scrape of his stubble. 

“Cecil…” You turn your head closer to him and he uses the opportunity to his advantage. He lightly kisses your lips. It’s soft and heartbreakingly sweet. You sigh against his lips and Cecil whines quietly. 

He strokes your cheek as he pulls back, his eyes are sharper now, vivid in their intensity. But lidded and gentle. “Can I kiss you again?” 

Thank you for reading!

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google show me this guy wet and whimpering

Star Wars: The Force Awakens dir. J.J. Abrams | 2015