#c: marcel

[magpietrait]

rhea and athena visited the ranch and marcel proposed to leo because he has little brother syndrome and won't be outdone by his sister

[wrxnxashby]

"Rooftop parties maybe, but famous? I guess that's subjective." Wren himself wasn't particularly famous, but the family name, 'Ashby', was very well known in his area. Everyone knew his dad, at least the image that was shown, and therefore that carried to himself and the rest of his family. Wren however never cared for it, and tried his best to stay away from it. He didn't want to be known, not for his wealth. He wanted to be known for his writing, for his intelligence. The money was nice, but it meant nothing to him when there was a price he had to pay. "Real is what I need. Tried the fake thing, and it didn't work for me." He nodded. "It is something. It's more than I could ask for." He huffed quietly. "I think it's what I'm meant for—the small-town life. L.A. is fun, but Kismet is chill. That is what I need."

Marcel let out a quiet laugh, nodding understandingly. “Yeah, that sounds about right. TV always makes it look like everyone in L.A. wakes up famous and goes to sleep at rooftop parties.” He leaned back in his chair, one arm resting across the back of it. “But I get it. Sometimes you need to step out of the noise to hear yourself think again.” There was no judgment in his tone—just quiet recognition. He himself had needed to do that, and it had eventually brought him back to where he belonged. “Kismet’s not flashy, but it’s real. People look you in the eye here.” He smiled again, smaller this time. “That’s something, right?” He paused, then added, “Besides, you stick around long enough, we’ll make a small-town boy out of you yet.” @wrxnxashby

[venear-tmblr]

oh!! Marcel isn’t a c!ven variant btw. c!ven variants are very rare actually.

i think ill let yall cook on that :]

[saltavista]

[felixcloud6288]

Does Tumblr have a post tag limit?

[strawberryxmagic]

@l0stpiecesx - marcel

hope was honestly happy about how the event had turned out so far. jackson had appeared, her family was piecing itself back together slowly. the more family she saw, the more at peace she felt. she was sipping her drink when she spotted her brother in all but blood. "marcel!" she exclaimed happily, picking up her dress and hurrying towards him.

[valiisthea]

Welcome Marcel Bellamy to the crew!

He's a 30 year old man who has served with the Dragoons since the founding of the Holy Order of the Knights Dragoon by Dion in 870 (so for 8 years by end of game).

Just...like...love him and such. If you want to. If you vibe with him.

He doesn't have a terribly thrilling backstory - and personality wise he's a bit serious and rigid, but he has no qualms being a goober when he's not working. He takes his job very seriously and, like the others, is unwaveringly loyal to Dion (and Terence, by extension).

[uwmspeccoll]

Milestone Monday

On this day, July 10 in 1871, French novelist Marcel Proust (Valentin Louis Georges Eugène Marcel Proust, to be exact) was born to an upper-class family in the Paris Borough of Auteuil. Born at a time of great change for French society, with the decline of the aristocracy and the rise of the middle class, Proust's most well-known publication, the monumental, 7-volume novel À la recherche du temps perdu (currently translated as In Search of Lost Time, but previously translated as Remembrance of Things Past) explores the effects of these changes in personal and intimate ways.

Proust began work on this novel in 1909 and continued to work on it until his final illness in the autumn of 1922 forced him to stop. It was published in France between 1913 and 1927, and has become one of the hallmarks of world literature from the 20th century. The novel unfolds as a series of memories initiated by the sensation of a sip of tea in which he had dipped a madeleine cake. The sensation sparks dormant recollections of experiences from childhood to adulthood in fin de siècle France society.

The first six volumes of the novel were first translated into English by the Scottish author and translator C. K. Scott Moncrieff from 1922 to 1930, with the final volume translated by British novelist and translator Stephen Hudson in 1931. Terence Kilmartin revised the Scott Moncrieff translation in 1981 (with the final volume translated by Andreas Mayor) using the new French edition of 1954. The copy shown here is a revision of that revision by British academic D. J. Enright, based on the French Bibliothèque de la Pléiade edition of 1987-1989, published in six volumes by the Modern Library in New York (and by Chatto and Windus in London) in 1992. It is the first edition to use the more current translation of the title, In Search of Lost Time.

View other Milestone Monday posts.

[coedotcom]

someone get this boy a raspberry

[pickalilywrites]

Hi lily! May I request more annie x soldier!marcel fics. Your writing is great and anniecel needs more love :)

hi anon. thank you for asking <3 i'm always down to write for anniecel!

if this is all you need

AnnieCel. Canon Divergent. 2012 words. Read on Ao3!

Annie isn’t a team player. They don’t teach you how to work with other people when you’re training to be a Warrior. You’re constantly competing with other Warrior candidates, pitted against them again and again, in the hopes that you will be one of the lucky few that could claim one of the four remaining Warrior positions. You must always be vigilant. Becoming a Warrior is never certain until you have the power of the Titan in your palm. Just look at Porco Galliard, Annie thinks. Everyone thought that he and his older brother Marcel were shoo-ins as Warriors, but only Marcel had managed to snag a spot for himself out of the two brothers. The Armored Titan’s power, which everyone thought would undoubtedly become Porco’s, fell into Reiner’s hands unexpectedly. Nobody knew why. It makes her wonder if there was another substitute for her, if her spot on this team was as secure as she thought it was. 

The Marleyans had encouraged such a competitive environment between the Warrior Candidates that Annie had almost scoffed when she had heard about the mission to Paradis to retrieve the Founding Titan. She thinks it’s ridiculous that Marley expects them to work together when even now she can’t help but view all the other Warriors as threats. They’ve been competitors most of their lives. Annie can’t call them friends. Even calling them comrades would be a stretch.  

She doesn’t know how Marcel can work so well with everyone, taking the lead when nobody else wanted to. Zeke is the one who usually leads them, but he’s not on this mission in Paradis. Somehow, the role of the leader fell to Marcel, and he took the mantle without any hesitation. When they had set foot on Paradis, Annie was afraid that everything would fall apart. Sure, they had rehearsed everything in their heads, gone over the plan with the Marleyan officials, and had talked over everything together in that cramped cabin as they crossed the sea, but it was different when they actually stepped foot on Paradis. Nothing could have prepared them for Paradis.  

It was a vast wasteland in Annie’s eyes. There wasn’t any civilization in sight, just a wide expanse of grassy plains. If she hadn’t been told otherwise, she would have thought that the island was uninhabited. She would have never believed that there was a civilization tucked away far from the shores. Only when she squinted could she see the faint outline of the Walls where the Eldians are hiding away. She had been told that the trek there would be long but even looking at the distance they needed to close exhausted Annie before she had even taken her first step.  

Marcel had been the one to take the first step on the island. He was the first one on the shore, and he was the one to lead the way without any prompting from the Marleyan officials that had come to see them off. Reiner followed closely behind Marcel, head held high, but Annie could see how tightly his hands were clenched into fists and how his arms swung so stiffly by his sides. Bertholdt trudged along even more timidly, looking nervously left and right as if waiting for something to catch them unawares. Annie followed at the very rear, observing them all.  

Their first day on Paradis ended without much event. They had only stopped when Marcel suggested they did even after Reiner insisted that they all had enough energy to go through the night. They were seated all around the campfire that Bertholdt had managed to get going. It was uncomfortable sitting with everyone, and Annie kept shifting in her seat as Reiner spewed his nonsense about how they would rid the world of the devil blooded Eldians. They were after all, he said, the ones chosen by Marley. 

“We weren’t though,” Marcel murmured, and Annie recalls this now as his first and only misstep. Some nights she wonders why he had even muttered this at all. “We weren’t all chosen. It was supposed to be different. It should have been Porco, not you. Porco was supposed to be the one to inherit the Jaw Titan, Reiner. I was the one who had turned the attention of all our instructors towards you. I convinced them that in the end your loyalty would be more valuable. If it weren’t for me … you probably wouldn’t be here at all.”  

Annie remembers how Reiner’s eyes trembled as he stared at Marcel in disbelief. He stood there, slack-jawed, and stumbled backwards. Bertholdt had hovered nervously beside Reiner. To do what, Annie never knew. It wasn’t to catch Reiner or restrain him because as soon as Reiner bolted, Bertholdt did nothing to stop him. It was only Marcel who ran after Reiner.  

“You liar!” Reiner shouted, and his shout could have been heard across the whole island. “I’ll fucking show you! They chose me! They fucking chose me!” Reiner probably would have shouted and screamed the whole way there, but the earth began to tremble and he stopped in his tracks.  

Annie and Bertholdt had only run a few paces from the campfire, but even they could feel the earth shake from where they stood. Annie looked over at Bertholdt and saw his panicked expression. He was asking her what they should do, and she didn’t know the answer at all. She didn’t know what they should do. She only knew what she should do, which was run and survive at all costs. She had only ever learned how to take care of herself. The fact that she now had three other lives tethered to hers rendered her immobile.  

She was deciding between bolting or running to Marcel and Reiner and dragging them back to the ocean where they came, but she didn’t have a chance to decide before the earth opened. The ground beneath Reiner’s feet crumbled and he shrieked as jaws open from under him. A Titan let out a horrid groan as it emerged from the earth, and for a moment Annie thought that they failed the mission already, that they already lost the Armored Titan to one of the devil beasts of Paradis until she realized that Marcel had already taken action.  

Marcel shoved Reiner out from the jaws of the Titan and had somehow managed to escape from the Titan’s jaws unscathed as well. Without a moment’s hesitation, he plunged his teeth into his hand until he drew blood and a bolt of lightning fell from the sky to strike him. Before Annie could blink, the Jaw Titan appeared where Marcel had been. The Jaw Titan kept itself between the mindless Titan and Reiner, keeping a protective stance. The mindless Titan, unable to think past its carnal urges, pounced forward and Marcel’s Titan quickly batted it aside. The Titan fell to the ground with a thud and the Jaw Titan took its chance, bounding on top of it and tearing its teeth into the nape of the Titan’s neck. The Titan could only shriek and writhe, trapped underneath the Jaw Titan’s claws. The sound of its struggle echoed in Annie’s ears for years to come even after it dissipated under a cloud of hot steam.  

Marcel did not abandon his Titan after that. The Jaw Titan instead extended its hand towards Annie and Bertholdt. Although the two did not know what Marcel had planned, they climbed onto its palm and then onto its back. Reiner later did the same, although he could not look anyone in the eye.  

It was Marcel’s idea to travel using their Titans. It was the only way for them to get to the Walls without fully depleting their supplies, and it would increase their chances of arriving there safely if they ran into another Titan. It was Marcel’s idea to use the Colossal Titan to break the outer Wall and then have the Armored Titan breach the inner Wall to get them closer to the center of Paradis. It was Marcel’s idea to infiltrate the military as trainees to gain valuable intel that would guide them to the Founding Titan. A long game, but one that they had to play. If Marcel was the one guiding them, then Annie would take her chances.  

When they first joined the military, she thought they would all keep to themselves and gain intel separately, but Marcel became fast friends with all the other trainees. It was a farce, she thought, but even now she notices that Marcel is able to get along well with everyone. He gets along well with Bertholdt and Reiner, but he also gets along well with the other trainees. She can’t seem to make friends at all, and it’s difficult for her to speak with the other Warriors without arousing suspicion. Bertholdt and Reiner don’t even bother with her most of the time, reasoning that it’s suspicious enough that they come from the same village. People would be more suspicious if Annie knew them as well. Marcel, however, somehow finds opportunities to speak with her. It makes her feel less … alone.  

She is grateful for Marcel’s friendship, if she can call it that at all. She’s never really had a friend before this, so she’s unfamiliar with friendship and what it entails. She imagines it’s something like this though: kind smiles and encouraging words even if they’re whispered in the shadows where nobody else can see them. Every time she begins to get impatient or hopeless, Marcel finds her and gives her the motivation she needs to continue. It’s like he has a sixth sense in reading people even though Annie had always thought she was unfathomable. She wonders if it’s because she’s not as hard to read as she thought she was or if she unintentionally lets her walls down just a little whenever Marcel is involved.  

She wishes she could be a pillar of support for him. She sees him sometimes after their trainee practice. When he thinks people aren’t looking, his smile fades from his face and is replaced with an expression of complete exhaustion. She doesn’t know how to reach out in the way he’s done for her. Every attempt that she makes seems dishonest and unnatural, and she ends up retracting any encouraging word or gesture she had thought to make in the first place. 

One day she sees him emerging from the storeroom after Shadis had instructed him to put away some equipment. Marcel has that same tired look on his face, but it immediately vanishes when he sees Annie. She wants to tell him he doesn’t have to do that. He doesn’t have to put up a brave face in front of her, not if it tires him.  

In the past, she would have just turned away and pretended not to see Marcel. Now, she hesitates but is able to muster the courage to ask, “Are you okay?”  

“I’m fine,” Marcel says, that same warm smile on his face.  

“Okay,” Annie says. She hesitates again, but then tells him, “If there’s anything I can do for you, let me know. I know I’m not very useful, and I’m not a very good teammate …"  

Marcel smiles again and his expression looks more genuine this time. “You’ve done more than enough, Annie. It’s just enough to know that you’re here.”  

It startles her when he approaches her and for a moment, she thinks he will embrace her, but he simply lets his head fall onto her shoulder and lets it rest there. They stay like that, not moving, and Annie only gently places her hand on his shoulder. She pats him awkwardly, but Marcel doesn’t seem to mind. If this is all he needs, someone to lean on every once in a while, she thinks she can do that for him. Her cheeks feel warm and she’s sure they’re scarlet now, but she tells herself it’s from the heat of the sun even though the two of them are standing beneath the shade of the shed. 

[gildedbarbarian]

“ i miss you.  i know i’m not supposed to,  but.  i just had to see you.  ”   leah to marcel

Marcel should turn her away. It's what they agreed on, after all: space. Time to figure out whether they were doing this for the "right reasons" or the "wrong ones". Problem is that it's been just over a week and all Marcel has really figured out is that space from Leah is the last thing he wants. There's a thousand ways to read his conclusions and he's still working his way through them, but he knows he doesn't want to stand here in the doorway and tell her to go back out into the cold.

"Leah..." He tries not to visibly savor every syllable of her name, to satiate himself with the way it feels on his tongue, but he's never been much of a liar. At least not with her. "Look, I... miss you too. And I want to step back and let you through this door more than I've wanted anything in a long time, but said what we said for a reason."

It's unfair when he reaches out, runs one finger from the exact place her part starts, down the side of her face to the ends of her hair, does it again but stops midway to tuck the strand behind her ear. Unfair to them both, really: nothing but ruination to their self-control. "I just want you to be sure that it's what you want."

[regina-del-cielo]

Comunque rivoglio il Sergione Nazionale a Parigi a tifare gli Italiani e che il resto del governo se ne stia a casa

La Meloni si è presentata per Un (1) Giorno e ci abbiamo guadagnato solo una solenne figura di merda globale e perdiamo più potenziali finali da medaglia di quante ne vinciamo

[heartunderneath]

@ofxpressicns​

he didn’t know MUCH about the guy. only what klaus had said and klaus wasn’t known for being the most bias opinion. nonetheless, there was high esteem there, and the fact that klaus had practically raised him bolded pure interest. it wasn’t the same as hope but there was a bond there nonetheless. “you’re marcel,” stefan began. “i believe we’ve met before?” just, at the time, stefan hadn’t realized who he was talking to. 

[intheupside]

“I get to do what I love,” Crosby said. “The least I can do is treat people well along the way.”

really good sid article in the athletic today

Moments before overtime of Game 6 between Sidney Crosby’s Pittsburgh Penguins and Alex Ovechkin’s Washington Capitals in 2016, the Penguins all sat in the silent home locker room. No one moved. No one uttered a word..

Over the years, the Penguins had been mentally tougher than the Capitals, which explained why they owned their bitter rival in the biggest games. Now, the tables appeared to have turned and the Penguins were rattled. It was all silent in the Pittsburgh room, until only a few intermission minutes remained.

Then Crosby, the soft-spoken captain of the Penguins, stood up and addressed his team.

“Hey guys,” Crosby said. “We’re better than that f—ing team. This ends now.”

It took only 6 minutes, 32 seconds of overtime for Bonino to score the game-winner, ending the series and paving the way for Crosby and the Penguins to win their second of three championships. But Crosby’s message left a lasting impression.

“No one could believe it when he did it,” Cole said. “Bones scored the goal, but it was Sid. We needed to hear it. It was all Sid. That’s the kind of leader he is.”

Crosby has been the captain of Team Canada since 2014, and for almost half of his life, the 37-year-old Crosby has skated with the “C” stitched on his chest in Pittsburgh. Along the way, he has developed a reputation for leadership that is second to none. There is a family atmosphere and a charitable spirit within the Penguins organization that largely exists because of him.

Even this season, as Crosby’s Penguins miss the playoffs for a third straight season, his leadership attributes have never dimmed. The results and on-ice success may vary from year to year; Crosby does not.

What’s his secret? What makes him unique? What makes him a great leader?

Those who have shared a locker room with Crosby swear by him and talk about a set of common principles:

He treats everyone the same and insists that he’s treated like everyone else.

He makes everyone feel welcome and does so with personal touches.

His competitiveness rubs off on everyone else.

His work ethic and consistency inspire others to be better.

“There’s never been anyone like him, and there never will be,” said former Penguins general manager Jim Rutherford. “I’ve been around a while and I’ve met a lot of people. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

In 2014 the Penguins acquired Lee Stempniak and Marcel Goc at the trade deadline, and the pair was set to play in San Jose the following day. Goc and Stempniak were en route to the SAP Center in San Jose.

The rest of the Penguins had long since departed the arena in San Jose for the hotel to engage in the standard pre-game afternoon nap. Stempniak and Goc, however, were headed straight to the arena, so Crosby sat for hours in the Penguins locker room, waiting for the new players to arrive. He had already welcomed them to the team via text, but he prefers to add the personal touch.

“That’s what I noticed when the Penguins first traded for me,” said Ryan Pohling, who played one season for the Penguins before moving on to Philadelphia. “I get a text from Sid. And he’s chatting you up, making you feel so comfortable. And you’re like, ‘Sidney Crosby is talking to me.’ It just gets your attention because of who he is. But he just wants to make you feel welcome immediately. He’s different than anyone else.”

There is a long trail of evidence of Crosby making new guys feel welcome.

“It’s crazy,” said Rutger McGroarty, one of the youngest Penguins. “You’re barely in the NHL, and Sidney Crosby is chatting you up.”

But those personal touches extend to longtime teammates as well.

“If you’re having a bad day or having a problem, he’ll take care of you,” said Marc-Andre Fleury, his former teammate. “He’d talk in French to make me feel better.”

During the 2016 Stanley Cup run, Crosby frequently took the young players out to dinner, wanting them to feel comfortable in a new city.

Sometimes they’d be itching for a nap on the road. Too bad.

“We usually have these team lounges at hotels,” Rust said. “Trust me, he was always encouraging us to get down there. He wanted everybody there, but especially the younger guys. So you would go down to the lounge, and he’d be there waiting. Shoot the bull, play cards, whatever. I think he just wanted everyone hanging out together. It was important to him, and it still is. We’d have team dinners, stuff like that, and he’d always make sure the young guys attended. He went out of his way to make us feel comfortable during that time.”

That, Rust said, led to the Penguins’ back-to-back championships as much as their talent.

“It’s 100 percent a real thing, and Sid always understood that,” Rust said. “It can be the missing piece to the puzzle.”

Just because he wants to make people feel welcome doesn’t mean Crosby wants them to stay too relaxed. Not for long, anyway.

Crosby makes those around him better simply by challenging them.

“He doesn’t even mean to do it,” former teammate Mike Rupp said. “At least, I don’t think he does.”

In 2010, the Penguins were conducting their annual team testing at the beginning of training camp. Rupp, a 6-foot-5, 230-pound power forward and menacing physical presence, had earlier in the day thrown the medicine ball further than any of his teammates.

when Crosby walked up to him.

“So I heard you have the record for today?” Crosby said. “Not anymore.”

“So we started throwing the medicine ball back and forth after this,” Rupp said. “I throw it the first time, and it goes maybe 25 feet. Then he gets 26. Then I throw one 27. So then he throws one that goes 30 feet. I think we got up to 33 feet.”

“The point is,” Rupp said, “I had thought, at that time, that I had thrown it as far as I could. That I gave everything that I could. But I hadn’t. That’s how Sid brings you to another level.”

On or off the ice, Rupp had never seen anyone who could inspire greatness from those around him like that. The oldest of his former teammates agrees.

Matt Cullen was almost 40 when the Penguins won those championships in 2016 and 2017. Even he found himself looking up to Crosby.

“I think his drive to constantly improve his own game and his unmatched work ethic leaves teammates no choice but to follow,” Cullen explained.

[petaltexturedskies]

Marcel Proust, in a letter to Madame Straus, wr. c. end of 1888 or early 1889

[metamorphesque]

Swann’s Way, Marcel Proust (tr. C. K. Moncrieff and Terence Kilmartin)