OSCAR ISAAC GQ 'Men of the Year' (2025)

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OSCAR ISAAC GQ 'Men of the Year' (2025)

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[ oscar isaac, gay, male & he/him ] — a new age of heroes approaches, among those is JOSÉ MARÍA MORALES, child of HYPNOS. they have walked this earth for 48 YEARS, living in BROOKLYN, NYC, as a PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR, until they came to the isle of olympus 01 YEAR AGO. they will carve their name in myth with their SHARPNESS, DETERMINATION, AND INTUITIVENESS, but the fates know of their STUBBORNESS, OBSESSIVENESS, AND PRIDE that may immortalize them forever. the battles ahead will shape them into who they are destined to be, but will this cause the age of the gods to fall and the age of monsters to rise? only the fates know the truth and those prophecies have yet been uttered. let their heroism shine against the challenges ahead. godspeed, demigod! —
sweet dreams are made of this...
for: saxon @pantheeons ] [ GLIDE ] sender is gently rubbing/scratching receiver's back and rubs their knuckle down their spine to the small of their back
he isn't sure how he ended up face down and shirtless in the older man's bed, but there he is. monty has never been one to make good decisions, especially when it comes to men with handsome faces, it's why he's even on the island in the first place.
he's panicking internally almost the entire time, even if saxon's touch is firm and soothing, working his muscled back just right. the thought that the last time he slipped up for a moment alone with a man led to disaster makes it so he can't allow himself to fully settle. he's sure saxon can feel how tense he is.
then he gets to the small of his back and a moan leaves his lips at the feeling.
immediately monty's eyes widen and a chill goes through the room.
“uh-eh-” he starts uneasily, “sorry. it's been a while…since i had a massage like this...”
what: disgruntled, icy french canadian fighting many demons including his useless phone. where: just outside the cabins
"tabarnak!!!"
the expletive is said with as much force as possible, as monty throws his phone roughly into the ground, a little gust of wind carrying it further than it would've gone otherwise. he doesn't even care. it's become exceedingly clear that they weren't joking when they said no outside technology works on the island.
monty just wants some semblance of normalcy, something to hold onto from his life outside. he wanted to check on his team and see how they're doing, maybe call a friend or teammate.
he sighs and goes to retrieve the phone after a few seconds of stewing in his feelings, only to see that it's completely frozen.
“such a piece of shit,” he grumbles as he tosses it back in his pocket, only then noticing that someone had witnessed that entire ordeal as he fought with his phone and ultimately lost.
he flushes in embarrassment, feeling caught and exposed, before settling on anger instead and rolling his eyes with a disgruntled sound.
“câlisse! i am not a performer, or a circus clown for you to watch!"

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as if on cue, alvin did chance a peek at the older blond's shorts. as that orange behind his head flickered just a little brighter, alvin could see that firm line thickening, lengthening. it helps, that he'd shoved his head into jeff's warm side, giving him quite a good view down the man's shirt-covered stomach. "it's video game talk." cheeks burning, just a little. "I know we don't have any of it here, and we're doing real stuff, now. but I do miss being good at it." championship-level. even if it was just his godsblood acting up.
lips to his hair, and alvin shivers. the kind of affection's incredible, soft and warm and strong, just the right side of squeezing his soreness from the workout. there's only so much praise he can take before he has to look up, glancing from jeff's hefty bulge to his very handsome face, from underneath. they're the same height, but alvin's still folded over when those arms come around him.
he knows what straightening up means. as his hard, obvious bulge slides up jeff's compression shorts, lined up, base to base. alvin's face right at level with jeff's, alvin's cheeks dusted, his eyes bright. he gets his long arms around the man just as tight, trying to squeeze him.
"you're really good at this, you know?" faces near enough for his eyes to almost cross, just to look into jeff's. "I feel like I can do anything when you talk me through it."
even through the haze of a good work out, the heat of victory and lust, the proximity and the tension building in his shorts, jeff will find a way to be there for his brethren. for those he cares about. a moment of sincerity. he isn't ever someone to shy away from sentimentality.
“hey, your video game stuff was real too,” jeff answers softly, his brows furrowing. “just ‘cause we’re up to some great big godly things now, doesn't mean our lives before, who we are outside of all this, are any less important.” he feels strongly about that. he carries both versions of himself proudly, knowing one wouldn't be able to exist without the other. “maybe we can take a trip outta here sometime and ya can teach me a thing or two. fair warning i am hopeless at that stuff.” he's a dad through and through.
then they press even closer as alvin comes face to face with him, and heat travels down his back as he bites his lip to stifle a groan. their hard cocks are pressed right against each other, their clothes the only barrier in between them. jeff swallows roughly, gripping onto alvin's back a little tighter.
“yea?” he asks, cocking his head a little, looking at alvin's lips, before landing right on his eyes. “i've been told i'm pretty dang good at talking people through things.”
“hard things,” he says with a little laugh, not being able to stop the pun, even as his cock throbs where it's pressed right to him. jeff moves his hips minutely, thrusting ever so slightly.
“what're ya in the mood for, bud? ya wanna take this somewhere else? work up a better sweat?” his mind is being overtaken by the proximity, and the way he wants to kiss alvin fully. jeff is just aware that they're still in view of a lot of the other people working out. “i could give ya a good reward for a job well done.”
Grant knew he was enough of a basic white American to fall for that sexy accent. It always worked on him with the Latin women he slept with —sometimes on camera— and that much didn't change when it came from the lips of a man. A beautiful, seductive man like Alejo...
His eyes devour Alejo, watching as the younger man disrobe for him like he were an actual stripper at a club. He certainly had the curvy body for one, anyway. Every last item of clothing reveals beautiful, tanned flesh, sometimes marked by meticulous tattoo work. Obviously a gorgeous canvas like Alejo's physique would host such intricate art.
Alejo's ass... fuck. So muscular, yet so round, framed perfectly by that jock strap. If Grant weren't bicurious by now, he would've been.
He nods furiously to the question, embarrassing himself with his eagerness. "C'mere—" Grant murmurs, gesturing for Alejo to come closer. "Need to touch you, fuck—"
alejo feels like he's won the jackpot as grant agrees to go further, to touch his heated skin. he wants to close that final gap, feel him, be pressed right to the larger man. alejo wants to feel his muscles, taste every inch of him, devour him, but that will come later.
he smirks, and moves to straddle grant's lap, gasping softly, his cock twitching at the first skin to skin contact, feeling his strong muscle underneath his thighs. “closer, like this?” he asks breathily, taking one of grant's large hands and placing it directly on his own chest, mirroring the action as he gropes his pecs. “you are so sexy, amorcito lindo.”
“i want you so bad,” he confesses, leaning forward and brushing his nose against grant's, lips millimeters apart. he won't make the move to close the distance, he wants to keep this cat and mouse game going, pushing grant to meet him where he is before he actually pounces on him. his cock is still held in his fist, leaking and throbbing as he looks down at grant's again. if he lets go, they'll be touching in the most intimate way.
“hombrón.”
for: dorian @olympicvalor] what: reed freaking out as they wait to enter a tokyo club
he feels unusually paranoid, it's the worst part of being away from the island for reed. he has somewhat of an ego, he knows that, but that's not what has him feeling like people might recognize him. it's the feeling that people are watching and waiting for him to slip up. he can feel camera flashes in his face all over again, but it's just the bright lights of the neon city up above.
he feels itchy and like he wants to go back home. back to the one place where he's been allowed to be regular, or as regular as a demigod could be.
the possibility of being singled out has him on edge.
“sorry,” he says to dorian, knowing that he isn't being his usual self. he wanted to get to know the guy more, have fun with him out in the real world. but the real world is his least favorite place. it's only ever tolerable when they have some kind of mission, something else to focus on.
they're waiting in line for a club, and reed is practically shrinking inward, his shoulders hiked up and his head down.
“jesus, i'm the worst travel buddy ever, huh?” it's said with a self deprecating little laugh, tinged with bitterness. “i'll get it together soon, i swear, man.”
he breathes out and raises an eyebrow at dorian as he brushes their shoulders together, trying to relax. “maybe a little kiss will make me feel better. get me in the partying mood.”
for: fernando @lucksfavor ] what: marcos being a bad influence in tokyo
there's a hint of frustration in his voice, even if it's still playful. marcos is uncharacteristically talkative, trying to persuade his friend into joining him in his scheme.
“c'mon, mano,” if anyone said he was being whiney he'd punch them in the mouth. “say you'll come with me. it's a foolproof plan. we get money and we have some fun after. we can hit the clubs or some shit. i don't know. whatever you want.”
marcos' latest scheme involves sneaking into some underground fighting in tokyo, and using fernando's luck to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible. is it unfair? sure. life is unfair. and marcos wants to have a good time and some extra cash.
“i'll split the money with you. do you think i can't win? you've seen my moves, i've got it down. i just want my good luck charm there with me.”
what: open neon city starter, clyde excited and using technology for a moment. where: the busy streets of tokyo at night
clyde is holding his phone up, back camera pointed to his handsome smiling face as he chatters away rapidly, walking with a quick pace. he knows he looks like some kind of influencer type, or a youtuber, but he's just glad to have technology on his side for a moment so he doesn't have to write everything down. he wants a record of everything, it's important to him.
the bright lights of the tokyo skyline at night bring something out of him, just like when he was growing up in new york city and getting lost every now and then. always after a new experience. some adventure of some kind. now he and his fellow demigods have been let loose upon the neon city. it's exciting to say the least.
he realizes one of the guys is walking right behind him, and he slows down, angling his phone so he'll be in frame too.
“say hey! i'm doing a video diary!” clyde has on his best anchorman smile as he turns to the man, “how are you liking tokyo so far? it's pretty incredible, isn't it? i haven't been here since i was a kid. where is the city taking you tonight? if you don't mind my asking, of course!”
he waits for an answer letting people pass them on the street. maybe he can hitch himself to this guy's plans and see where the night takes them.

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event: neon city
open starter
"What can't a man enjoy some flowers without getting judged by other people?" Rhys of course had to go and see the cherry blossoms, it was his mother's season, in a place famous for flowers? How could he pass that up. He also happened to love conjuring up cherry blossoms himself, they made for a beautiful imagery, and a great distraction in the heat of battle, a flourish of beauty before he beheaded his enemies. Pink petals clung to to his long blond hair, as he had been quite caught in a fit of whimsy walking through the blossoms.
The son of Persephone was always looking for ways to venerate his mother, and this seemed like a decent way to do. He knew that whatever distance between them should could feel his utter devotion. He just knew it. "You are welcome to join me, but wipe the look of judgement from your otherwise handsome countenance. It doesn't suit you."
learning of his connection to persephone truly breathed new life into renato. it's only been a few years, but everything's changed so drastically for the better, he can't ever imagine going back. and he owes all of that to his mother. his devotion runs deep. he's always been devoted to family but instead of it being to his detriment, it's now something that propels him forward and gives him hope.
that and his great love of flowers is what brought him to gaze upon the cherry blossoms, and watch the people enjoying them. it fills him with life, seeing people so enchanted and happy. it's a stark contrast to what he used to do back in his prior life, everything is brimming with hope, color, a spark of life.
the thought that he could've been stuck where he was brings a seriousness to his face, sitting with the complicated feelings. there is still a sense of betrayal that threatens to make him feel guilty, trying to drag him down, but he never lets it fully take hold. he loves his old family, but he has something new now.
renato is lost in his thoughts when he registers one of his brothers speaking to him. he's seen him around on the island before, but they haven't interacted much. his face breaks first into shock and then into a soft smile, shaking his head as he regards rhys.
“no, no, no,” he flushes, rushing to correct the impression he left, “i am not judging, i was just thinking about life. i am sorry if you felt i was judging you. i would never do that.”
he breathes out, gesturing to the flowers and the people, his smile growing on his face. “i am here because i love the flowers and the people, and the joy. it is amazing. and very beautiful. is it not?” “i have to admit, flowers are my greatest love.”
SENSE8 1.06 “Demons”
Miguel Ángel Silvestre for Folie Magazine (Nov. 2023)
Rosas | La oreja de Van Gogh
@fromolympus: 40.
Carlo felt at ease with Renato. Their shared European roots, at the very least, helped give them a more direct link than with some of the others. The Italian even spoke fluent Spanish which made communication even easier —he really was an Angeleno after all— and better yet, it meant he could indulge himself some dirty talk in the other man's Mother tongue.
"SI, papi... qué rico—"
His strokes are methodical, but not languid. A real personal trainer through and through. He's used to fucking people with an expectation of luck bestowed upon them as well, and it's not a passive experience. It needs to be intentional. And if he's gonna have sex with Renato, why not throw in a bonus for him? Friends help friends get lucky, literally and figuratively.
"Te gusta? Fuck, so tight—"
renato is getting lucky, in more ways than one. bent in half with his chest to the bed and his hands pinned to his back as he's thoroughly fucked by carlo, he's hoping to not just get his rocks off but get some of that good luck in his favor. he wants to be chosen as the florist for a wedding on the island between two demigods who are choosing between a few of their kind. this will hopefully get him the leg up. and if it doesn't well, at least he got to enjoy himself.
"joderrr, carlo, si," he breathes out raggedly, his toes curling at the feeling of carlo taking him apart with his masterful thrusts, knowing exactly which buttons to push down to speaking to him in his native tongue. renato grins where his face is pressed to the bed, on cloud nine as he tries to push back against his thrusts, wanting him deeper inside. he gets so insatiable when he's like this. the pain, the pleasure, the feeling of being so exposed yet so free, makes him positively wild.
he's sweating, hot everywhere with the feeling of being filled like this, entered over and over exactly where he wants it. every slide against his most sensitive parts makes his breath catch.
“i love it, baby,” he grunts out, thrashing his head from side to side, trying to get a glimpse of carlo behind him. his eyes almost roll back on a particularly good thrust, his cock leaking beneath him. “dame más. more baby, please,” renato pleads brokenly as he shakes his ass, wanting to push carlo over the edge. “make me the luckiest man on the island.”

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There were plenty of people who didn't find Lochlan's hyper fixation to be as endearing as Jeff did, he didn't have much to contribute when it came to horses but he always listened to the prince of horses. That was one reason Lochy tended to approach him more often than he might have normally, maybe today he could be some help. The son of Artemis wasn't usually one to ask for help, learning from a young age to be self reliant but this wasn't for himself. It was for one of his friends, who could get hurt.
“Oh,” he frowned, the worry and anxiety was visible on Lochy's face and he we about to walk off when Jeff offered to give him some help. "Thank you, Jeff." he said with a faint smile, not even minding that his hair was messed with in the moment. Jeff reminded him of one his old trainers when he was younger, who taught him how to ride horses and was surprised at how naturally Lochy took to it. That made him feel safe around the older man.
"Umm, he's kind of a trouble maker but he's never done this before." The stress was still in his voice as he looked around, searching the skies to see if he was flying around. "Yeah, he might have been hungry... I was on time today, maybe he didn't finish his dinner last night. I should have made sure he ate it all." Lochy was now spiraling as he walked towards the trees nearby, looking for any apple trees.
"You'll hear him before you see him, he's the loudest Pegasus on the island."
jeff likes lochlan, and is always ready to indulge him. there are some people that jeff just likes to hear talk, and lochlan is one of those people. it's usually people who he thinks are smarter than him, who have something to teach him about the world that he will sit and listen to, not having to contribute much to the conversation.
and he hates when people are shot down over things they're excited about.
he especially hates seeing someone like lochy upset. jeff feels a protective urge come over him, and he moves to wrap lochlan in a big bear hug, wanting to stop his spiraling.
“hey, hey, hey,” he says softly, “stop that. whatever this is, it ain't your fault, bud. okay? you take really good care of the horses and the pegasi.”
he rubs a hand down lochlan's back in a pattern. “and freaking out isn't gonna help any. those guys are insanely smart creatures, you know that. so, i'm sure he's doin just fine, and we're gonna find him soon and laugh about this.”
jeff lets go after a moment and begins to move quickly toward the apple trees. “now let's find that pesky pegasus!"
“ya gotta put him on time out for giving you this scare, buddy. trust me, it helps.”
he's confident they'll be successful as he points toward a patch of apple trees just ahead and calls out, “SIRIUS YOU'RE IN SERIOUS TROUBLE, MISTER!” dad mode activated.
that pride, pure and real and tangible, alvin could almost feel it. something that thrummed through with every word, every brush, every light encouragement. it soaked into his body like sunlight, like heat from a campfire on a cold night. like the best and warmest blanket fresh from the dryer. something about the older, well put-together man spun alvin's senses around.
that, and since the man was always in the gym, something around him was always wafting. aftershave, body wash, something-- a scent that meant proximity, and appreciation. comfort.
put all of that together, and alvin wasn't hiding much oh his half mast in his loose little pair of shorts. his lean legs didn't need much cover.
the hand to his back helps fold him up, and he's more like three quarters at the contact. "--thanks," muttered quickly, before he's muted by the bottle to his lips. the care, the attention, alvin lets his eyes close and just lets the coach do his thing. there's no getting around that bob between his spread thighs, almost in time with his swallows, but it's not a big deal, right? maybe more like an average deal, or slightly over.
"last time someone called me a beast, I froze the lane so hard I got two levels up without a gank." said breathlessly, but with his own pride in his chest. then jeff has to go so far into hyperbole that alvin's even blushing, leaning over to tackle the top of his head into his brother's chest, under his arm. "c'mon, jeff. there's guys, like, ten times my size here. I just wanna see myself improve."
lie. he wants the man to keep laying it on thick. but as the orange behind his head flickered, he wasn't gonna get anywhere good by admitting it.
this proximity, the camaraderie and the heat shared with someone after a good workout, or a win, is unlike anything else. it's like an extra supply of endorphins after the initial burst from the workout itself. it makes everything that much better. it's one of the things jeff found himself missing after he quit professional sports. thankfully he's found ways to get that same feeling of closeness here with some of the guys and gals on the island.
jeff notices the bulge in alvin's loose shorts and how it responds to his movements, but he doesn't say anything for now, wanting to be in the moment and see where things go naturally. boners are a natural part of strength training, and the camaraderie between teammates, between workout partners. the heat, sweat, proximity, the blood rushing. jeff would be lying if he said he weren't a little worked up inside his compression shorts too. his is just hidden a little better. not by much, if alvin were to glance down he'd probably see the outline of his thick cock getting more engorged by the second.
he laughs, confusion clear on his features as his brow furrows momentarily. “okay, bud, ya lost me again. is that video game talk?” jeff tries to keep up with the new lingo but it all goes over his head. and he's always been more of a super mario kind of guy. maybe some racing games. he really should ask alvin to game more often.
jeff presses a soft kiss to the top of alvin's head when he leans into him, laughing softly as he rubs his back soothingly. “c'mon. that stuff doesn't matter, alvy! you're a champ! we both know it.” even if he doesn't understand the world alvin comes from he's always been impressed by the younger guy and his expertise in that field.
“and you're strong as heck! we both just saw you crush it, lemme hype you up! ya deserve it!” he hugs alvin to him happily in a big bear hug, not caring if they're both hot and sweaty. maybe he wants to feel him close too. “ya get stronger and stronger every time we lift. you're gonna give me a run for my money pretty soon.”