Bttf Marty - Tumblr Posts
Young Doc's conclusion.
Happy everytime when I see them together. And there now... Interesting young Emmett conclusion about both of them!
Clara: No woman will take my sweet Emmett away from me.
*Marty in the background*
Marty: Hi!
"My sweet π r²"
No. Marty is a pretty short boy, so Emmett lifted him up when kiss get more deeper.
Yeah. This is not me?
Not me, imagining Marty being in an alternate universe where he "accidentally" tries to get attention by making a mess only to encounter Citizen Brown, and with a mischievous smile, lots of ideas to throw him off balance, which would make him angry enough for Marty to enjoy.
He would see Emmett, he would remind him of his passions, he would save him from toxic relationship with Edna and would take him to the end of the universe, just to be noticed by him, to spend time with him, to love him. That he would always be his beloved.
There is a hug with extremely happiness. I would to find more things like that with Mammett.
"You will be forever my Doc."
“She changed something. I wasn't sure what it was at the beginning, but now I know... Clara didn't destroy our friendship, but something more. However, my jealousy and anger have also harmed you, my Doc. The present has been repaired in the past and I would like it to remain that way, my beloved Doc."
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Gif:
Now, we see who is on top. I think I need to write and create art where Marty take control during their intimate time.
*Young Emmett and Edna talking with each other in the distance*
Marty: *jealously* I'm gonna to destroy this whole marriage.
Roman Philosopher and his twink student in Ancient Rome:
I would love to see only them on third part 3 cover of the movie and being happy to look at this duo every time I can reach for physical copy, like in part 2. Only them. Without Clara.
"You need to be punished, my boy"
Citizen Brown has said this so many times, but Marty still won't listen. He has had to start trying other measures. Marty isn't as keen on showing that he loves it, but his reactions speak for himself.
I love stopping something in proper moment
They should be canon
Lorraine: Then your daddy must be so cool!
Marty: Exactly!
The problem was that Lorraine didn't know exactly what "daddy" meant to Marty. And Marty didn't want to explain it because he knew he wasn't in the right times for it to be considered this as "fine".
Marty carry photo of his dad everytime and everywhere. Imagine how happy George was when Marty nicely asked if he could take one of his photos.
Marty probably smiled every time he pulled out the photo and looked at it, thinking how cool and sweet George is with that smile.
I'm not a fan of sharing my fics, because I'm suck at translating, but this is a part from the latest one fic which I need to continue soon. Enjoy, I guess?
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Evening came, and with it something else hanging in the air. Marty hid in his bedroom, thinking about the appropriate sounds of his guitar for a strong song without any words, which could have been for Jennifer if she hadn't broke up with him.
He heard footsteps, but he didn't stop creating heavy and energetic music around him, knowing that he didn't have to hold them back. Unless his dad really wanted him to do it.
This time there was nothing like that, and he didn't pay attention to George leaning against the door frame, who was staring at the slight wrinkles of a smile.
It was friday evening. George tore himself away from work and decided to leave the idea for the new book for the next day, to admire his son now, not wanting to waste any second, since they were completely alone in the house this time.
"Yes. Keep it up, Marty. Show your old man how much you love playing on your new guitar," he blurted out the words in silence, focusing on the intense blue of his son eyes, not paying attention to the old guitar placed next to the black guitar case near night stand.
Marty smiled shyly, knowing that his playing had always been his father's favorite thing. It was constant, probably more than nice. Something he couldn't really describe at the moment. He hid his blush from him.
The calm gaze was tempted by Marty's young and shapely body, and George was grateful that he didn't have to hide it. They probably had the whole night to themselves. George knew how to use it. His touch on Marty existed only before sleep, kissing his warm lips with passion. No rush and no witnesses, even if the rest of the family was in home.
He couldn't stop kissing Marty and couldn't help, but wanted show how much he love to feel him, to explore him from every pore. He missed intimacy, so he hoped that Marty would focus all the attention on him, and if not, well, he would show Marty that it's not worthy ignoring his dad. He would show him once again that he would beg to continue kissing his skin, bringing him to a final orgasm as soon as he will penetrated him with the right movements.
Marty felt everytime so weak after, so defenseless, trembling under him, stroking his dark brown hair, now dulling with age. And that was not all he saw and felt. He could not shake it off. It changed him.
Marty tried to show how amazing he could play. How much he appreciated his gift - new guitar from his dad. Dreaming of the studies around music he had mentioned to him. He knew it would work. They had been saving up for his studies for years. Not only for him, but also for Dave and Linda.
He focused on the music, ignoring his father who moved closer, who touches his knee, who finally reached his hand to his hair, fixing them. Because of this movement Marty lost his rhythm, stopping playing, feeling as if he was starting to lose feeling and disappear like before. But this time he didn't disappear.
George's touch lasted longer, meeting Marty's blue eyes with his cool green, which Marty always considered them as warm. It warmed him up.
He widened his smile without taking his eyes off his lovely dad, now leaning into his touch on his cheek, feeling the thumb that stroked the skin. He felt himself falling apart under this touch.
Marty began to hold the guitar weakly, letting it rest on his lap.
"You're a very talented boy," George said in a quiet whisper close to Marty's ear, putting these words on the teenager in the form of affectionate appreciation.
“Thanks, Dad,” he whispered, feeling comforted as he found George left hand, taking it hesitantly.
George smiled gently, squeezing his younger son's hand, allowing him to continue stroking his cheek, his thumb traveling to his lips, which slowly opened. Marty shivered, feeling a small tension, squeezing George's other hand, unable to move away from it. It was endearing and attractive. He couldn't ignore how close he was and how he looked. His dad was a handsome man, he loved everything he could see and feel about him, unable to resist his dull hair, which used to be a more intense color than it was now.
Marty still remembered George younger self, that kiss, the forbidden ground like with his mother, whom he rejected so that he couldn't allow something between them. Luckily, he managed to bring them together, even if it wasn't easy, it was worth it all.
He couldn't forget the kisses, the tenderness and other things between him and George. Before and now. Not believing that he couldn't reject it like he wanted to do so much earlier.
George began to pull him out of his shyness and small reflection. He put the guitar down, placing it on the closed case, returning to the bed and beginning to absorb every touch between them that now occurred. He approached more confidently, smiling softly and touching his lips to his right cheek.
The brunet sighed, feeling more relaxed, feeling the warm touch here and there, leaning over them, unable to chase away this feeling that had developed short months ago. Not even a few.
George moved his head slowly, bringing his lips closer to Marty's. The light kiss began to work like a drug. Marty closed his eyes, looking at George's face second before it, gently touching his lips in order to reciprocate, finding his shoulder with his free hand, and then his hair, sinking his fingers into them, pulling him closer, causing their lips to meet in a stronger kiss that became longer and more intimate as time passed. Marty moaned short and quietly, feeling the changing atmosphere, pushing the eager George into a deeper kiss, which he wanted to strengthen even deeper.
George stroked his hand, after a moment making a break between them, feeling his son's unstable breathing at the moment. They looked at each other for a moment, and Marty stroked George's hair, not wanting to end this caress. George showed with his smile that he didn't want to end it.
He wanted to ask if everything is okay, but Marty didn't seem concerned, but a bit quieter that day than in previous ones.
"You don't have to be afraid. Not with me, Marty," he soothed in a whisper.
Before Marty could decide to say anything, his father's lips silenced him again, enveloping him in their embrace. George smiled as he placed another tender kiss between them. He moved closer, prolonging the kiss even longer, wanting to take Marty into a deeper embrace, to pull him closer, to comfort him, to hold him on his lap.
In that moment it was just them and their feeling, which was completely different from others years ago.
George to Lorraine:
George: You're mine density!
Lorraine: What?
George to Marty:
George: You're mine density!
Marty: Wow. That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard.
He's more than his favorite son. He's more than a son. He can't let go and let Marty girlfriend love him more. Marty couldn't let go either. Not in the past, and not in the future
"Listen. Loving my dad it's not mean I'm gay"
