#basicallyidomoo

[gurenmonster]

bbs ship doodles whatever bro

heads up these are all with moo LMAO

that's it go away shoo

[diamondminer74]

this creature (doodle)

[penguinvi]

pinvivi!! i really love the gifs you post (no matter what ship it is :D) and i want to say thank you for posting them!! ❤️❤️ i hope you're having a good day

sorry for the spam!! U_U i rlly love your account!

After your words, the day became like a fairy tale! Thank you for the nice words! And I'm always glad to see you on my account, so don't apologize! 🌈💗🦄

And yet I have to apologize for taking so long to write an answer, I was just busy creating GIFs. 💢🤧

Take a cookie🍪

For the sake of GIFs, I had to download PowerDirector, but I think it's worth it 💦

And yes, I wish you a pleasant day! 🧚‍♀️

[jenn-i-guess]

Early Bird//Basicallyidomoo

Thanks @gurenmonster for telling me I put up the wrong one O///O 

"Bat Owl! What's the situation?" Batcoon spoke into his walkie talkie, his voice slightly muffled by the big raccoon mask he wore. It was hard to see, that's what they could tell. The warehouse was surrounded by dozens of mafia workers, all carrying guns. And it seemed that they had a hostage.

Early Bird looked at what he was wearing, a bright blue unzipped hoodie and pants, and a neon tanktop underneath, probably not the best color choices. "The one hostage, Marcel Cunningham, doesn't seem to be worth much to these guys. I think he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time." Bat Owl spoke back, and Brock could see him across the side on the other roof of the warehouse.

They looked at each other and executed their game plan. Bat Owl and Batcoon would get the bad guys, Early Bird would rescue the hostages. It was what he was good at, and though rescuing people at the time didn't get a lot of popularity, he wasn't complaining. Brock was a lover, not a fighter.

Gunshots rang out as his friends made their way towards the enemies, fighting them off using their own special tactics. Brock spotted the door to the closed off house, where the hostage was being held. There would at least be two guys in there with him, if Brock could manage to distract them and get them away, he was golden.

But it seemed that fate had different plans in store. The two workers came out just as Brock had hid behind the dumpster truck they had stolen to hide cargo in. "Ah shit, it's the Owl Man!" One of the workers exclaimed, grabbing the pistol that was holstered on his waist.

Bat Owl, Brock thought, rolling his eyes as the two dumb workers went to fight, leaving the door open.

Early Bird quickly went inside, shutting and locking it behind him. "Hello? Marcel, where are you?" He called out to the hostage, following the hallway that led him into an open area.

He almost gasped when he saw the man, a darker male with curly black hair hidden underneath a Finn hat, tied up with ropes onto a metal chair that had to be really uncomfortable. And Marcel was out.

Brock rushed over, seizing the knife he kept in his coat pocket for emergencies and slashed the ropes away, pulling the man up who mumbled sleepily. "Wha?" Was all the other managed to say as Brock stumbled the both of them to another side of the room, placing the hostage on an old couch that was gathering dust in the corner.

"Are you okay? Are there any other injuries?" Brock question, pointing at the cut Marcel had on his bottom lip. The man finally opened his eyes, brown meeting brown, and gaped his mouth open.

"Fucker you're hot!" He exclaimed, sitting straight up staring at him. Brock flushed, realizing that he had not put on his eagle mask this night, not that he usually did, so he could actually see his face. "Um, what?" He stammered, narrowing his eyes at him.

Did he hit his head? Maybe that's how they knocked him out. Brock wasn't hot, or so he told himself, that was a bit of an overstatement, this man was clearly delirious. "I said you're hot. But no, I'm fine! Not hurt anywhere else." The man answered Brock's previous question, still staring up and down at his body.

"Um, okay, well-" Brock murmured, blushing at the continuous staring, feeling slightly uncomfortable, but only slightly. The other part of him was gushing at this man, maybe even developing feelings for him.

The warehouse garage busted open as his friends and many police officers were on the other side. "Early Bird! Is the hostage okay?" Bat Owl called out to him, standing with his hands grasping his hips.

"Um, yep! He's not that injured!" He answered, giving Marcel a hand to stand up and let the examiners look over him. Brock felt more nervous by the second as the saved hostage kept staring at him, a small smirk placed on his lips.

When the nurses went away to check the injuries on the enemies, Marcel walked over to Brock, a bounce in his step.

"Thanks, for saving me by the way." Marcel winked at him, leaving Brock with an open mouth and increasingly flustered face. He came closer to his face, so close that he could feel Marcel's breath brushing over his lips.

He came closer, and closer, Brock's heart hammering in his chest. He knew his friends were possibly watching, but at this moment, he didn't care at all. Suddenly Marcel purposely missed Brock's lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. Still, it was enough for Brock's breath to catch in his throat, as he tried to stammer out a response to the gesture, but was met with kind eyes and a flirty wink.

"A little late, Early Bird." He flirted, tapping Brock's jaw.

Vanoss saw the flirting going on between the two, mostly from the saved hostage and rolled his eyes from under his mask. "Well, that's never happened before." Del said, slyly ducking his hand down to press it against Vanoss' gloved ones. Evan rolled his eyes, rubbing his thumb against Delirious' bony knuckles.

"Mhm, never happened before."

[books-bring-you-to-wonderland]

i really love the rarepairs 🥺🥺 can i request basicallyidoMoo??? idk if anyone has requested it or not -🦑

Rarepairs away!

Basicallyidomoo Pt II

-They like to watch old cartoons together that they watched when they were kids- Brock always gets super excited and can't sit still during the shows, and will flap his arms to stim more often than not

-Marcel's favorite comfort food that Brock makes is lasagna, and Brock will usually make three or four of them to freeze for days when he doesn't feel like cooking

-They both try to set Scotty and Brian up, since they are their respective best friends and definitely need to be invested in a love life that isn't Brock and Marcel's

-Brock is the one who has to investigate the scary noise at night, and when he comes back safe (always), Marcel makes a point to kiss him and call him his knight in shining armor

-Marcel kicks the blankets off of him when he sleeps, and sometimes kicks Brock in his sleep too- but he'll always kiss the bruises the next day and make breakfast to apologize

-Brock did not want to live in the city, so they cozied up to a two story house in the suburbs- complete with white picket fence, blue shutters and a red door. It's picturesque and straight out of a postcard, and they love it oh so dearly

-Certain textures can make Brock uncomfortable, and Marcel readily has given up his silk pillows so Brock doesn't get anxious in bed

[dronepikachu]

Hehe, the Minecraft cops are at it again! Also, sorry if I havent been posting on here a lot, I'm starting to get busy with school, so forgive me with later posts!

[azortoonz]

Bad Word - ft. H2ONogla, BasicallyIDoMoo, Ohmtoonz and Minicat

[justice-artblog]

Could I possibly get some fluffy BasicallyIDoMoo to cheer me up?

“Sorry Early Bird, you’re a little late for that.”  

i thought this turned out great :3. I hope you feel better, i know this was later but still, hope you had a better day, if not sending all my love to you anon!

[chinxino5-blog]

tinsel

basicallyidomoo fic - [ fluff request ] warnings: none. 3002 words

@it-vaniss request! prompt: “fluffy basicallyidomoo fic about the two of them decorating the christmas tree”

-

Craig had left to get Christmas crackers at ten a.m., leaving Brock with the simple instructions of setting up their tree and decorating. It was a pretty straight forward task, there wasn’t much that could go wrong.

Except that it was one o’clock and all he’d managed was to make space for the massive fake tree and open the attic door.

“‘Decorate the tree’ he said. ‘I’ll only be gone for an hour’ he said... dickhead.”

He found himself laying at the bottom of the ladder, glaring at the gaping hole of death and humidity that was their roof. He’d hauled himself up there two hours ago only to half clamber, half fall, back down when he encountered the biggest spider he’d ever seen waiting for him.

So instead of trying to figure out a way to get around the beast guarding the gates of Hell and retrieve the dusty boxes, he snacked on cereal and cursed his roommate from the carpet.

The angry message he’d sent to Craig had a response of several laughing emojis and a stupid gif. Obviously with no solution available, he shuffled back to lean against the wall and grumbled into his empty bowl.

“Stupid Craig with his stupid gifs and stupid emojis,” he muttered. After several long moments of nothing new or life-changing appearing to help him, he stood reluctantly and placed his bowl to the side, his determined glare settling once again on the opening of his attic. Taking a deep breath in, he placed one foot on the first rung. The moment he lifted his other off the carpet their obnoxiously loud doorbell rang through the leisure room and he jumped in alarm, foot slipping and sending back him to the floor.

He groaned, whimpering into the carpet with his hands on his throbbing hip. He was not motivated in the slightest to get up and answer whoever chose to interrupt him at that moment. If they knew him well enough to know the door was almost always unlocked they would let themselves in.

Sure enough, a few seconds later his door clicked open and footsteps could be heard walking down the hall. “Brocky?” Of course he called Marcel… “Craig told me you needed-” His words cut short as he glanced into the room, seeing the mess of limbs that was the exhausted Brock. “... help.” The little chuckle had Brock lifting his head from the carpet to glare up at the man leaning against the frame of the doorway.

“I hate Craig,” was all he said before huffing and allowing his face to return to the carpet. Marcel laughed again but didn’t say anything more. Brock half listened as he walked away and returned a few minutes later.

“You can hate Craig when we’ve got this tree set up and decorated. C’mon, I came over here to help you, not do it for you.” His words were playful and teasing as he nudged the man with his foot. Music played from the speaker in his hand and Brock slowly pulled himself up using the ladder beside him. He caught Marcel’s lopsided smile and rolled his eyes at the overly cheerful Christmas song that played from the little blue cylinder.

“Don’t have plans for Christmas Eve?” Brock asked, brushing himself off lightly and touching his hip tenderly. It was probably gonna bruise and he knew he’d be blaming Craig completely.

The other man shrugged, smile still on his face. “So far, my plans are to help some idiot put up his Christmas tree because he can’t do it by himself.” Brock huffed, shoving the other gently as he laughed at his own teasing. “Which brings me to my question: why haven’t you even gotten the box down yet?”

Marcel followed him as he trudged to the kitchen and put his bowl in the dishwasher. “There’s a massive spider up there guarding it and I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. I’m not going back up there. That thing is hungry for my face, I swear.”

He didn’t expect anything less from his close friend as he snorted into the back of his hand and threw his head back with high-pitched laughter. It came out more as a giggle than a proper laugh as he tried unsuccessfully to contain his amusement. Brock shook his head when he found his lips twitching into a smile. Marcel’s laugh had a child-like feeling to it and anyone who knew him could agree that it was highly infectious.

It was one of Brock’s favourite things about his friend.

“It’s not funny!” he scolded, kicking his friend lightly as they found themselves beneath the gaping hole in the roof once again. Marcel placed the speaker down, still giggling. Brock crooked his index fingers and brought them to the sides of his mouth. “It had these big fangs and its body had these dark red bits. Its legs were so long Marcel, it’s plotting my death right now – it can’t wait to kill me.”

Marcel raised his brow, desperately trying not to laugh or grin at the silliness of his friend. He just shook his head and put both hands on the ladder, one foot on the first rung.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Brocky, I’ll go face the terrifying beast for you,” he cooed, his voice gentle and condescending. Brock frowned, trying not to pout as he tried to look more annoyed than he was.

He watched Marcel scale the ladder, taking his time peaking up into the attic as he deliberately shook his knees and arms in ‘fear’. He huffed and folded his arms. “Yeah, yeah, get on with it then, Prince Charming,” he scoffed and Marcel paused to throw and cheeky grin back down at him. The accompanied wink had Brock’s cheeks flushing as he turned away.

He jumped in alarm as his friend shrieked, standing on the wooden support beams above with only one leg visible. “Brock, the spider’s gonna get me!” Brock’s concern dropped.

“Shut up!” he snapped, hearing the wicked laughter from above as Marcel took a few seconds to get out all of his giggling.

“It’s so tiny,” he squeaked, howling with laughter from the dark, humid space above. “It’s smaller than my big toe!”

Brock’s face burned with embarrassment. “It’s not that small,” he mumbled to himself, flushing even darker as the laughter raised a pitch. “Marcel!” His whining had the laughter dying to giggling, dying to little snorts and huffs here and there. “Hurry up and get the box so we can start setting it up.”

He walked from the room, fanning at his face with one hand. He sent Craig another angry message, including a retelling of Marcel’s teasing. Receiving the response of “suck his dick, it might help”, he left his roommate unanswered and threw his phone onto the cough. He cleared out more space for the tree and tidied the rest of the house for decorating.

After another few minutes he returned to the leisure room at the call of his name. Marcel slowly handed heavy boxes down to him, the cardboard sagging under the weight of plastic branches and dozens of ornaments. Brock offered a hand to help the other balance as he got his feet back on the ground and smiled smugly at the man’s rosy cheeks and heaving chest. His forehead glistened with sweat.

“Maybe if you hadn’t spent an extra five minutes up there giggling your ass off you wouldn’t have ended up so overheated.” He handed his sour words to the other with a glass of icy water, the liquid drained in seconds.

Marcel relished in the cool temperature of the room, grinning through his heavy breaths. The playful smile had Brock turning to the box that held all the tree parts. He knew the teasing words would follow him as he dragged it from the room and pretended Marcel wasn’t there. “I thought it was pretty funny, y’know. Your little spider friend up there was giggling with me, you just couldn’t hear him.” The smirk in his words had Brock throwing an unamused look over his shoulder, Marcel’s eyes twinkling above the box in his arms. “Such a small spider only has a little laugh,” he added and Brock threw his head back with an exaggerated groan.

“Let it die,” he whined, reaching the corner of the main room where he planned to set up the tree.

“I’ll think about it.”

He took the glass from the top of Marcel’s box as the other turned to get the last from the living room. Brock refilled the cup and poured one of his own before opening the biggest of the three boxes. The plastic green leaves pricked at his fingers as he pulled out the base and fake trunk of the tree.

Marcel crouched down beside him, helping slot the parts together with a grin. “Watch out for big spiders in the box, Brocky.”

Brock huffed. “Really?” he asked, forcing down his smile at the high-pitched laughter from his friend. With a small giggle of his own, he grabbed one of the branches and pointed it at Marcel. “Why don’t you leaf me alone?” He couldn’t stop the smile from breaking out across his own face as Marcel’s dropped.

“Have fun doing this by yourself.” He dropped the branch in his hand, walking towards the hall and shaking his head.

Giggles became laughter as Brock scrambled over one of the boxes so he was close enough to grab Marcel’s shirt sleeve. “I’m sorry!” he forced out, bending at the middle as his laugh faded to a breathless wheeze. “I had to.” Marcel was smiling slightly at him when he stood upright again, one brow quirked in disapproval.

“No you didn’t,” he corrected, brushing the hand away and bending down to open the other two boxes. “You get that tree up, I’ll put some stuff up around the room – we’ll do the tree décor after,” he instructed.

Brock pressed his lips together, making sure to move out of reach as he started popping the branches into place at the base of the tree. He threw a daring look over his shoulder. “Don’t worry Marcel, I’ll be done in tree seconds flat.” He bit down on his tongue to stop his laughter. Marcel raised his head, deadpan expression. A bauble hit him on the head and he squeaked, laughter slipping from his lips.

“You’re an idiot,” was the only response he received and he snickered in satisfaction.

“You love it.” He missed Marcel’s little smile that accompanied his rolling eyes.

Brock hummed along to the Christmas music as he worked, locking each branch in on each level of the tree. The smile on his face didn’t change much as the fake tree took shape and began to look fatter and better. Though it was still bare and not so Christmas-y, it looked like a tree and that was the start.

He was almost constantly aware of Marcel’s whereabouts, the other singing along as he hung tinsel over the small chandelier and draped it over the curtain rails. He put wreaths up on the two doors facing into the main room. Halfway through his job, a broom brushed at Brock’s foot, curious eyes looking up to see Marcel closely inspecting the tree.

“Looking good, Brocky – made any eight-legged friends?” His inquiry had a branch swatting at the top of his head and Brock stepped away to allow the whistling man to sweep under and around his tree for all the little fake leaves that had fallen off.

When Brock announced he was finished, Marcel wandered back in from where he’d disappeared to the leisure room. He had a makeshift tinsel scarf and a pair of flashing green and red glasses he’d found somewhere. The look in Brock’s eyes showed he was less than impressed but his smirk contradicted him no matter how hard he tried to fight it down.

“Let’s get this bitch dressed up, baby.” The enthusiastic cry from Marcel, paired with his energetic fist pump, had Brock pushing a bundle of tangled tinsel into his arms.

His smile was sweet. “Get untangling!”

Marcel had never looked more like a kicked puppy. The excitement in his eyes vanished as though Brock had poured a glass of water over his head and he disappointedly sat down on the floor with the mess of gold, red and silver on his lap. Surprisingly enough, three long strands of tinsel were laid out on the floor, separated, in just over five minutes. Long enough for Brock to have put the lights around the tree. Just as he finished adjusting the spiral, a loose length of gold was looped over his head and pulled tight around his waist.

He protested through his laughter as his arms were pinned to his sides, the big golden bow tied at his back locking his elbows down so he could only raise his forearms.

“I don’t want to break it.” His whine did nothing more than make Marcel laugh, a cheeky grin on his face as he wound the red tinsel in a wide spiral around the tree.

“Then don’t, stupid. I’ll do the tinsel and you can decorate the lower part of the tree!” His voice peaked as though his idea was far more brilliant than it actually was though the frown on Brock’s face refused to stay, too easily replaced with his giggling smile.  

Still, he accepted the challenge and once all the tinsel was in place he awkwardly shuffled from the box to the tree and back, collecting baubles and hanging them on the ends of branches. Marcel danced around him, grinning at Brock’s concentrated expression with his tongue peaking through his lips as he pushed his hip into the branches to allow his hands to reach the places missing ornaments.

Occasionally Marcel would stop to watch him struggle but he refused to ask for any help as he made his way around the bottom half of the tree. The other man filled any spaces he couldn’t reach and handed him ornaments he couldn’t get low enough to fetch, humming through all the silly Christmas songs Brock listened to in his car any time he left the house.

The whoop of excitement made the tied man jump in surprise as Marcel’s face lit up. The source of his excitement became clear as Mariah Carey began to play from his speaker.

“Oh God,” slipped from his mouth as Marcel began singing and dancing dramatically around the tree. He grabbed Brock’s hands halfway through the song, spinning him around as he struggled to keep his arms against his body. His giggly words weren’t exactly coherent but he loved the beam on Marcel’s face. When he was released he just listened as he continued filling out the last of the tree.

Something plastic slid onto his head, a headband of sorts fitting tightly behind his ears. He spun around, confused, feeling whatever was sitting above his head swing around after him to hang between Marcel and him. The proximity was unexpectedly close and his eyes went wide as his friend intertwined their fingers and leaned in. The lips on his were careful. They only stayed for a second or two, Brock realising after a breath that he should probably close his eyes. When the pressure on his lips vanished, too brief for the tied-up man to even respond, the hands slipped out of his and his eyes blinked back open.

The question on his tongue was trapped behind his lips as he blushed bright red and looked up. The headband on his head had a small wire stand that curved forward to hand a sprig of mistletoe just above and in front of the wearer. His pale cheeks burnt even darker and he shook his head and bent down, flinging the accessory off his head.

Fucking Craig, he thought to himself, turning back to the tree and shuffling around the other side to adjust tinsel and baubles where Marcel couldn’t see his bright red face. His roommate just had to own something as stupid as that.

“All I want for Christmas is you.” The soft singing had lost its silliness as the song came to a gradual end. No matter how hard Brock tried to convince himself that it was just a joke or a silly play Marcel could laugh at, those seven words burnt themselves to the inside of his lung and his heart slammed against his ribs.

When he returned to Marcel’s side of the tree, his face had somewhat cooled but the effort it took to look up at his friend was heavy in his chest. He wasn’t expecting soft curious brown eyes and a little smile. He wasn’t expecting the other to address what he’d done at all.

“Sorry, I probably shouldn’t ha-,”

“Don’t be,” Brock cut in, clamping a hand over his mouth instantly as his face began to reheat. With Marcel’s patient eyes on him he didn’t have an excuse to move back out of sight and instead focused his eyes on the almost empty box of baubles. His hand fell away. “I’m not, er, upset or anything. You don’t have to be sorry.”

The little smile on Marcel’s face grew as he stepped closer, spinning Brock around by his shoulders. The tinsel fell away with one tug and when Brock turned back around the same pair of lips ghosted his cheekbone.

“Good to know.” The cheeky words allowed a smile onto Brock’s face again. A flustered smile, but a smile all the same. Marcel just laughed at Brock’s rosy cheeks, closing up the boxes and flicking on the power-board. Both of them wore toothy grins as the tree glimmered and glowed with colour, baubles reflecting light and the tinsel sparkling.

“Looks perfect.”

Marcel stepped up beside him, slipping an arm around his waist and pressing his lips to his temple. “It is perfect.”

-

it-vaniss’ ask

note: here ya go! basicallyidomoo is such a cute pairing, my eyes have been opened :0 v cute to write, although it’s a bit past xmas now ^-^” i manage to make my ships kiss in literally every oneshot im so sorry, idk why but i love the cuteness of it all.

sorry for how long it took! hope you it’s what you were looking for!

gi

[cuddlysmii7y]

Marcel's and Brock's laughs blend so well together. It sounds angelic

[bbs-ship-confessions]

any ship with Marcel is "basicallyIdo*insert persons name*" and its great

and in that ship, he certainly basically does that person

terrible joke I’m sorry

[poly-bus]

Q7 : BasicallyidoMoo - The Library!

Q7 Request By: @randompassanger

Hope you enjoy your random selection!

High School Prompt: We met in the library late after school. I was flustered; you were a popular football captain talking to a nerd boy like me.

“Excuse me. Can I sit here?”

Brock glanced up and stuttered a bit, “U-Um, yeah, sure...”

The athlete simply pulled the chair out and sat down quietly, leaning back with an arm perched on the back of the chair, “So what’s your name?”

“I’m uh... Brock. My name’s Brock.”

The athlete raised a brow t him but he just shrugged it off. “Well, nice to meet ya Brock. It’s got a ncie ring to it, ya know. Name’s Marcel, you probably know of me, Ii’m sure.”

“Yyeah, you’re pretty popular with the ladies.”

“I’m not really interested in them though. Glad you’ve heard of me.”

The nerd glanced skeptically at the athlete, a light pink dashing across his cheekbones, “So um, why are you in the um... library, today?”

“Well, I needed a tutor and my friends recommended a nerd like yourself. Thinkg you can help me out with math?”

Brock glanced over the athlete with a quirked brow, ““What’s your current grade in it?”

“I’m stuck at a 68, can’t seem to get it up.”

Brock swore up and down that was an innuendo and blushed crimson, “O-Oh, well um... what do you need help with?”

“Geometry. I absolutely suck at it. Oh, and a bit of calculus, ya know? Probbly the whole class now tht I think about it.”

“How are you even in football still?”

“Ohhh, a fan of me, perhaps?”

Brock lit up red and sighed, “I’ll tutor you, okay, jeez.”

“Hey, just teasin’ ya. Not a lot of nerds know bout me besides my evil bullying side, ya know. Nice to see someone looks up to me.”

[ghostlyraptor]

I can’t believe Brock and Marcel’s shop name is Moocel

it’s-

it’s so pure and adorable and i cant

[books-bring-you-to-wonderland]

BasicallyIDoMoo? 👀👀

Basicallyidomoo

-Marcel is a hugger. He always wants hugs from Brock, and will interrupt him in the shower, during his workout, and during recordings to get his daily dose of affection

-Brock can usually tell how Marcel's feeling just by looking at him; he knows if Marcel's face is scrunched up, he's trying to hide that he's upset. He knows if Marcel bounces his knee, he's anxious and in need of some serious comfort

-The Wrk family absolutely adore Brock and have been calling Brock 'the one' since Marcel first brought him home. Mama Wrk keeps trying to slip her son his grandmother's old engagement ring, and Marcel gets all flustered when it's brought up

-They also show Brock baby photos, one of which is currently his lockscreen and his phone background

-Brock is the o n l y reason Marcel even reinstalled Gmod again, though he still refuses to play; maybe Moo will convince him to play again, one day

-They duo in cod like the geeky, nerdy boyfriends that they are (Brock usually dies trying to save his other half)

-Brock calls Marcel his other half, and it never fails to make Marcel's brain shutdown

-Marcel has about a million and a half nicknames for Brock; stud muffin, tiger, my mans, dreamboat, hot stuff, snowflake

-They both like Easter- no particular reason, the two just like eating way too much candy and decorating eggs

-Nintendo boyfriends, that's all they play at home for fun

[aegeanmage]

I wrote a BasicallyIDoMoo space AU over on ao3 lmao. Read if ya want to I guess. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11015142

[critterreads]

Brock knew his life had changed the day he meet Marcel. He loved him, wanted to protect him, cherish every minute with him. But that changed because of Brock's work, fighting crime in the shadows.

Marcel noticed this and asked him to stop, before something happens. Brock retaliated with his words. "I feel invincible, And so unrejected."

"Forget it, I’m invisible, And I feel unprotected." As tears feel down his face, he stormed out of the house.

"But, .... I was doing it for you ..." Brock said under his breath, knowing that this might have been for the better.

-

(I hope u like it, @it-vaniss)

(Promt list)

38 BasicallyIDoMoo? <3 Love what you're doing here Critter!

38. I feel invincible, And so unrejected, Forget it, I’m invisible, And I feel unprotected

BasicallyIDoMoo