tomarkprompts-blog

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mark being cute as fuck, as always

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whenmasturbationslostitsfun requested Something based on this quote, please please please. Thank you.

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Oh, god, this is gonna hurt me. I hope it hurts you too.

~

It was a warm day, but not hot, nice. I was sitting outside in the parking lot, in the mid-morning sun. I took another drag of my cigarette, only half way through with it trying to forget about Tom. I mean, I didn’t really want to forget about him just his face for a moment. I’m with him so much, it’s hard to forget, but the longer away from him, the more I see it. I’m fucking 20 years old. I feel like a kid, but I’m sure we all do when we first get into someone new. I mean, I’ve known Tom for a couple of weeks and I really like him; we’re exactly the same and like the same music. It’s cool as hell. My biggest problem was his fucking face, though. It’s obvious by now, I’m sure, that it doesn’t bother me, well, it does, but not cus he’s ugly or anything. He’s cute. That bothers me. I mean, it’s one thing for us to be friends, that’s fine. It’s not like he’s a 16 year old girl, we’re both dudes hanging out, but I can’t be into him. A) He’s straight B) So am I, like 85-95% C) I’m pretty sure they call it statutory rape. I don’t know, I mean, I wasn’t ever too attracted to dudes, I like chicks, but I looked at some a little differently I guess. I wasn’t opposed to the idea of being with a guy the older I got. I guess you could say I’m bi-curious, yeah, that’s about right, except I am kind of attracted to some guys, but not often. They gotta be really special. I finished my cigarette and tossed it in front of me, stomping it out before hoisting myself up. I don’t even know why I try forgetting about him, I mean, I’m seeing him later. We hang out all the time. He’s just too funny and too fucking cute.

~

It’s been about a month and a half since I’ve known Tom, I think. But, what does that matter? He’s still Tom, he’s still there, which means I’m still into him. Fuck him. Fuck his face, fuck his mouth, fuck his hands and the way they move and shit when he talks. Fuck him in general. See, I say this to myself, but I know, and you know, I adore him. It’s really hard not to. Most people generally do. He’s cute as hell and lights up a room and I don’t give a a damn if I sound like I’m head over heels for him. I’ve accepted that I like him, not much else to do about it. I’ve thought about telling him, but casually. Like, just act like it’s nothing. Not that I like him, I mean, but I’ll tell him he’s cute. He needs to know. I’m sure he does.

~

We were at his house alone, because it was a Saturday and his mother was at work, Kari had spent the night at her friend’s house and would be home later I guess. I didn’t remember. I didn’t care too much either.

I sneaked a look at him from across the couch. He was on his side, his legs pulled up a bit, head on the arm rest of the couch. He had socks on. I did too. It was nice on him, though. Just the way he lied there, watching Ferris Beuller’s Day Off contently and quietly. He had been up late last night, so he was pretty tired today, but he said he still wanted to hang out. I was on the opposite side with my feet resting on the coffee table. I looked at my feet. They were weird. Feet are weird.

I really wanted to tell him how I felt, but I guess I could start off with something simpler. We shamelessly flirted all the time, but it was mostly all joke. I tried to push my courage up by reminding myself that I was older. He was still a teenager. I could totally be all confident about this. I shouldn’t be nervous, if anything he should. Then I realized that was creepy and manipulative. I’m not trying to make him nervous; that’s the last thing I want. For his sake and definitely mine. I’m an ass.

I just tried to keep in mind that I’m bog boy and I shouldn’t be weird out by  this. I decided to make a joke of it. It was all I knew how to do at the moment.

I turned to him, watching his eyelids fall closer to one another and suddenly lift open again. He was so tired, but still wanted me here. That’s good. Good things, Mark.

I looked over at him and laughed a small laugh. His eyebrows and half lidded eyes both perked up. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just funny.” I pretended to turn my focus back to the TV.

His attention turned to me even more. “How am I funny?” I smiled a bit and he started to smile. I could see from my peripheral vision. He could tell it was a joke now. Sort of. It was sort of a joke. This was a mission.

“I dunno, you’re just cute.” Okay there we go.

He gave me an incredulous look, but a hint of a smile was still there.

“What do you mean I’m cute?” He laughed towards the end.

As casually as I could I told him “I don’t know, man, you just do things in a cute way. Don’t worry about it.” I lightly smacked his foot.

He moved and got up. Oh, fuck me.

“No, what does that mean? I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

“I mean, I’m kind of kidding. I’m just messing with you.”

He gave me a look I can’t even describe.

“Kind of?”

“Yeah, I mean , you’re cute, so what?” I huffed.

His eyes questioned more. “You know I’m a guy r-“

“Yes! I do.” I huffed yet again. There was the briefest of silences, I remember.

“I’m n-“

“I know.” He just kept looking at me, but when I finally looked up, he licked his lips like he didn’t know what else to do.

I put my arm on his shoulder and he flinched, which hurt, but I just kept it there. I sighed, looking him fully in the eyes finally. I then quickly took my chance to move my hand up the side of his neck, he pulled bit, seeming uncomfortable, but not trying to stop me. My hand found his cheek and my thumb ran over the corner of his face while I pressed my lips tight to each other before saying, “Don’t worry about.”

I then immediately took my hand away and searched my pockets. “I’m going to go take a smoke.” I then got up and went out front. He didn’t say anything for once. I sat on the porch. Fuck his brown hair, fuck his brown eyes, fuck him.

Fuck me.

~

The next day or so he tried bringing it up once or twice, but it was interrupted by someone else or dismissed casually by me.

We never talked about it again. He’s my best friend. He’s 16.

By:Grace

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MY SCHOOL IS CURRENTLY HAVING A PARTY IN THE HALLWAY INSTEAD OF CLASSES BECAUSE FALL OUT BOY IS BA CK

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Something based on this quote, please please please. Thank you.

  ~

      It was a warm day, but not hot, nice. I was sitting outside in the parking lot, in the mid-morning sun. I took another drag of my cigarette, only half way through with it trying to forget about Tom. I mean, I didn't really want to forget about him just his face for a moment. I'm with him so much, it's hard to forget, but the longer away from him, the more I see it. I'm fucking 20 years old. I feel like a kid, but I'm sure we all do when we first get into someone new. I mean, I've known Tom for a couple of weeks and I really like him; we're exactly the same and like the same music. It's cool as hell. My biggest problem was his fucking face, though. It's obvious by now, I'm sure, that it doesn't bother me, well, it does, but not cus he's ugly or anything. He's cute. That bothers me. I mean, it's one thing for us to be friends, that's fine. It's not like he's a 16 year old girl, we're both dudes hanging out, but I can't be into him. A) He's straight B) So am I, like 85-95% C) I'm pretty sure they call it statutory rape. I don't know, I mean, I wasn't ever too attracted to dudes, I like chicks, but I looked at some a little differently I guess. I wasn't opposed to the idea of being with a guy the older I got. I guess you could say I'm bi-curious, yeah, that's about right, except I am kind of attracted to some guys, but not often. They gotta be really special. I finished my cigarette and tossed it in front of me, stomping it out before hoisting myself up. I don't even know why I try forgetting about him, I mean, I'm seeing him later. We hang out all the time. He's just too funny and too fucking cute.

  ~

  It's been about a month and a half since I've known Tom, I think. But, what does that matter? He's still Tom, he's still there, which means I'm still into him. Fuck him. Fuck his face, fuck his mouth, fuck his hands and the way they move and shit when he talks. Fuck him in general. See, I say this to myself, but I know, and you know, I adore him. It's really hard not to. Most people generally do. He's cute as hell and lights up a room and I don't give a a damn if I sound like I'm head over heels for him. I've accepted that I like him, not much else to do about it. I've thought about telling him, but casually. Like, just act like it's nothing. Not that I like him, I mean, but I'll tell him he's cute. He needs to know. I'm sure he does.

  ~

  We were at his house alone, because it was a Saturday and his mother was at work, Kari had spent the night at her friend's house and would be home later I guess. I didn't remember. I didn't care too much either.

  I sneaked a look at him from across the couch. He was on his side, his legs pulled up a bit, head on the arm rest of the couch. He had socks on. I did too. It was nice on him, though. Just the way he lied there, watching Ferris Beuller's Day Off contently and quietly. He had been up late last night, so he was pretty tired today, but he said he still wanted to hang out. I was on the opposite side with my feet resting on the coffee table. I looked at my feet. They were weird. Feet are weird.

  I really wanted to tell him how I felt, but I guess I could start off with something simpler. We shamelessly flirted all the time, but it was mostly all joke. I tried to push my courage up by reminding myself that I was older. He was still a teenager. I could totally be all confident about this. I shouldn't be nervous, if anything he should. Then I realized that was creepy and manipulative. I'm not trying to make him nervous; that's the last thing I want. For his sake and definitely mine. I'm an ass.

  I just tried to keep in mind that I'm bog boy and I shouldn't be weird out by  this. I decided to make a joke of it. It was all I knew how to do at the moment.

  I turned to him, watching his eyelids fall closer to one another and suddenly lift open again. He was so tired, but still wanted me here. That's good. Good things, Mark.

  I looked over at him and laughed a small laugh. His eyebrows and half lidded eyes both perked up. "What?"

  "Nothing, you're just funny." I pretended to turn my focus back to the TV.

  His attention turned to me even more. "How am I funny?" I smiled a bit and he started to smile. I could see from my peripheral vision. He could tell it was a joke now. Sort of. It was sort of a joke. This was a mission.

  "I dunno, you're just cute." Okay there we go.

  He gave me an incredulous look, but a hint of a smile was still there.

  "What do you mean I'm cute?" He laughed towards the end.

As casually as I could I told him “I don’t know, man, you just do things in a cute way. Don’t worry about it.” I lightly smacked his foot.

He moved and got up. Oh, fuck me.

“No, what does that mean? I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

“I mean, I’m kind of kidding. I’m just messing with you.”

He gave me a look I can’t even describe.

“Kind of?”

“Yeah, I mean , you’re cute, so what?” I huffed.

His eyes questioned more. “You know I’m a guy r-“

“Yes! I do.” I huffed yet again. There was the briefest of silences, I remember.

“I’m n-“

“I know.” He just kept looking at me, but when I finally looked up, he licked his lips like he didn’t know what else to do.

I put my arm on his shoulder and he flinched, which hurt, but I just kept it there. I sighed, looking him fully in the eyes finally. I then quickly took my chance to move my hand up the side of his neck, he pulled bit, seeming uncomfortable, but not trying to stop me. My hand found his cheek and my thumb ran over the corner of his face while I pressed my lips tight to each other before saying, “Don’t worry about.”

I then immediately took my hand away and searched my pockets. “I’m going to go take a smoke.” I then got up and went out front. He didn’t say anything for once. I sat on the porch. Fuck his brown hair, fuck his brown eyes, fuck him.

Fuck me.

~

The next day or so he tried bringing it up once or twice, but it was interrupted by someone else or dismissed casually by me.

We never talked about it again. He’s my best friend. He’s 16.

By:Grace

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   By: Grace(go-trig-boy)

  This picture was taken by our friend Rob on his camera phone. Back then not all cell phones had cameras, so we called them camera phones. I remember it was a bunch of people, all of us just hanging out on Rob's back patio in San Diego on a really warm night. If I remember correctly, most of us ended up spending the night at his house.

     Tom and I weren't a super clingy couple in public. Like, I'd have my arm around him or vice versa while sitting together and what not, but not all over each other like some couples. However, we had been on each other quite a bit that night, though. When I said a bunch of people, it was actually not  a big group, but not super small, but we were all decently close, so we were more comfortable I guess. It's not that we specifically were less clingy around people we didn't know as well, it's just, we were so comfortable that night. Usually we're not clingy around people we know well either. Anyway, were all hanging outside with a small fire pit eating hot dogs and whatever and throwing out cigarettes in the fire when we were done with them, just talking and playing the radio. Rob had all this nice, cushiony furniture for outside and there was a two person seat Tom and I sat in that faced the fire pit and the sliding glass door that was open into the house.

     I remember having my arm around the back of Tom's side of the loveseat or whatever with Tom leaning forward to tell some story or go on about something, but every time he would lean back into the arm. I'm not sure why, but I specifically remember slightly facing towards him, my left ankle resting on my right knee, and he kept talking about something that people were done talking about, but he kept trying to bring it back into subject and our friend Sheila told him that they got it and he could drop it, but he was excited and thought it was the coolest thing. Tom gets really into shit and wonders how other people can't find it as fascinating as him, or at least a little bit. Anyway, I remember me telling him to calm down, but I laughed about it and he turned to me to give me some mock look to be funny, but I just leaned in kissing him casually to shut him up. My mouth was dry from the smoke I previously inhaled. I moved my cigarette to my other hand and brought him by his chin to kiss me. I remember doing that specifically, because his mouth had been all wet and it was a weird combination with the smoke I had been tasting all night. He said something along the lines of "think you can shut me up with a kiss, i'm not hat kind of guy". I remember chuckling a bit at that and some girl we used to be friends with, but just lost contact with awwing at us. We weren't the only couple there, though. Rob's girlfriend Allison was there and so were a few others. I'm pretty sure there was a lesbian couple there, but maybe I'm wrong. I think one was bisexual, either way, it was two chicks dating.

    Anyway, I know later in the night Tom started to get tired and put his right arm over my chest and leaned his head on me. I held my cigarette in my left hand and would turn my head off and away to the left to blow away the smoke. I know I had my right arm around his middle, my hand on his hip. I wasn't really pulling him closer to me, he was already at my side, but more so just holding him there. At one point Rob was a little too buzzed and went around taking pictures and he had fallen in front of us and everyone laughed, including him and his girlfriend, but he leaned up enough to yell "cheese!" at us and he took this picture. I remember this night so vividly, probably because it was just a nice night. It'd be nice to do it again. -Mark

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Perf

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Sierra is texting me fanfiction now. Bless her heart.

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You guys should submmit pictures or prompts for me to write.

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Backstory:

Mark and Tom are boyfriends and are on a trip together and are videotaping it for fun and so they can look back on it later.

Tom had the camear turned on and was filming around the room after they had gotten settled. “…and here’s Mark looking like a homo….”

Mark turned around to face Tom, “I always look like a homo.” he gave before hopping up on the bed, Tom climbing up on the opposite edge of the mattress.

“This here, this bed right here, is going to be a mess by tomorrow morning.” mark said with a cheeky grin as he pointed to the sheets. Tom mocked offense.

“Are you suggesting that we’re going to have sex on this hotel bed? Mark, I am no cheap whore.”

“I know you’re not. This room cost enough.” Tom chuckled and Mark leaned forward and rest his hand on Tom’s knee, beckoning him to come. Tom scooted over and lie down next to Mark. He flipped the camera around to film their faces as they lie back. Mark wrapped his arm over Tom and kissed his cheek.

Tom started speaking to the camera, “Mark here, thinks he’s going to get some. I don’t think so.” Tom made a face to the lens. Mark slid his lips down to Tom’s neck and started working the spot and said “I’m totally gonna get some.”

“Tom made wide eyes, “You guys can’t see this!” and Mark put his hand over the lens and pushed it away, Tom turning it off. Tom brought his arms around Mark and pulled him up to his mouth.

Mark smiled, “I’m totally getting laid tonight.”

“I’d hope so.” Tom said before Tugging Mark closer and pressing his lips to his.

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If you can write one that takes place in the ’50s I’ll love you forever! (:

-Okay. I really have wanted to write a story like that based on this picture for forever, and of course I'd do anything for Desiree.

~

       Mark bent his neck back as he took a long drag from his cigarette. He kept it trapped in his lungs for a moment as he brought his head back down to look out at the snow swept street below, then blowing the smoke out his nose. He felt Tom's sticky cheek pull off his chest. It was ungodly hot in the apartment, but that didn't stop their earlier actions, making them inevitably sweaty. Mark didn't even glance down until he felt Tom lean over and saw his arm reach over and up to Mark's upright left one.

       Tom grabbed for Mark's cigarette, Mark allowing him to take it. Tom took a quick intake of it and blew a doughnut of smoke into the air, then making more. Mark smiled at his foolishness, but then Tom put it up to Mark's lips for him to take another drag, Tom not letting go of the tobacco. Mark gently took it back, bringing some more smoke into his lungs before putting it out in the ash tray sitting on the window sill. He then ran his finger through Tom's hair repeatedly while looking up at the grandfather clock he got from his father. It was 4:30 A.M.

       There was no need for words between them as Mark lifted the window to allow the chill air to make it's way in. They both let it wash over their half naked bodies, the cold being soothing against the radiator making noise across the wall. They both leaned back and once Tom saw Mark shiver, he reached across with his body to close the window and drew the curtain in a bit more. Eyes open now, Mark grabbed at Tom's sides, pulled him down, and kissed him.

 "Are you excited for Christmas?" Tom whispered.

 "I am."

       Silence. "Would you want to go gift shopping with me tomorrow? I have some people I still need to buy for." Mark gave.

        Tom smirked. "Tomorrow is a Saturday, it'll be crowed, but yes." Mark smiled and Tom kissed him. Tom then slid off Mark as they both went back to sleep.

        "...Next year all our troubles will be out of sight." Tom woke up to the sound of Frank Sinatra wishing him a merry Christmas. He looked at the small radio sitting on the low ledge attached to the wall. The sun was not even up all the way, with just a bit of light coming through Mark's mostly drawn curtains. This all relaxed Tom, but also compelled him to get up. He was happy. Snow and Christmas music always made him feel happy.

        The very next thing he heard was the sound of Mark singing along. Tom turned over and could see Mark in his briefs through the open bathroom door, shaving in the mirror, singing along with the tune. Mark had the deep, soft voice. It was excellent when he sang. Just lying there, Tom closed his eyes and let Mark continue his singing and humming.

        "Happy golden days..." Mark sang low. Tom listened a bit longer.

         "Have yourself a merry little Christmas now." Mark finished. He then hummed along to the women's voices telling them both Merry Christmas.

       Tom laughed, Mark clearly hearing him, but not turning, and just eyeing him in the mirror.

         "I love you." Tom expressed sincerely. Mark pat his face dry with a towel and turned to Tom.

         "I love you too." He smiled, giving that deep throated chuckle of his. Tom looked over at their cardigans hanging up on the wall. He couldn't wait for all the plans they had for Christmas tomorrow.

~The End

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noooooooo

Going away to college: chpt 11/?

Read More

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Just so you guys know..

Still haven’t given up on this.  Writing a new chapter right now.

God, I bet everyone that read it was like, “lol abandoned fic, it sucks anyway.”

TOO BAD, SUCKAS, STILL IN THE WORKS.

please like it, though.

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When talking about my brothers man crush on Mark Hoppus...

Me: Yeah William has a man crush on Mark Hoppus

Mum: I thought it was Tom Delonge?

Me: No he hates Tom Delonge

Mum: Oh yeah, because he stole his man.

OMFG MY MUM BELIEVES TOMARK EXISTS!

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The look of love.

Any ideas for a fic for this?