I like to think that Efi is a big fan of Lucio and also looks up to him as a role model since he’s not just an international music icon but also a freedom fighter that literally led an uprising to free his city. All before the age of 30.
Mandatory group pic after meeting your favourite celebrity!
My Personal Top 10 Villain and Hero Prompts so far List
10) “Such faith…” the villain looked at the other in wonder, reverence, shocked awe that quite stole their breath. Such beautiful, stupid, blindness. They were the most perfect creature the villain had ever seen. “Tell me, if I asked you for your heart, would you give it to me?” “You have it already.” As if they hadn’t just met. “Or do you mean literally? ”It was all the villain could do not to grin, wolfish. They didn’t want to scare this miracle, after all. But oh, how strangely ensnaring it was to be trusted so completely.“Come with me.” X
9) “So protective…” the villain murmured. “You were never so protective over me.” “You never needed anyone to protect you!” The look on the villain’s face stopped them dead. X
They knew it was wrong, they knew they shouldn’t like seeing the antagonist like this. A shell of themselves, fragile, held together by stitches. But oh they were so pliant like this. So scared of doing wrong and so desperately needing reassurance. “I forgive you.” “It’s going to be okay.” “You’re not a monster.” The hero had never felt so addictively needed in their life, so redemptive, so powerful to have the villain breathless and overwhelmed with the smallest of kindnesses. They felt like god. X
The villain prowled closer, gaze intent. “Mm. The last time someone looked at me like that we didn’t get out of bed all weekend, good times.” “Cute bravado, it won’t save you.” “You’re blushing.” X
6) “Fix it.” “I can’t.” The protagonist dropped to their knees, a sick feeling curdling in the pit of their belly. “Please - see, I’m begging and everything - fix it.” They swallowed hard. “Please.” Their voice voice cracked. “I can’t,” the antagonist said. They tugged one hand through their hair, jerked the other in a gesture for the protagonist to get up. “I’m not saying it to spite you, I literally can’t. This is beyond my power. I’m sorry.” The protagonist stared at them in numb disbelief. X
5) “Go on,” the antagonist rasped. Their eyes were intent upon the protagonist’s, their lips startlingly red with blood. Breath panting. “Finish it.” The protagonist’s hand wavered, head spinning, adrenaline coursing nauseously through their body. Some distance away, their allies were starting to approach. The antagonist’s expression softened. “Finish it.” They reached up a hand to steady the protagonist on their weapon. “You’ll be a hero, everyone will love you, the world will be yours for the taking. You’ve come so far and grown so much, you’ve fought so hard. You can do it. It’s alright.” “You want to die?” “Don’t ask me that. I’d rather it be by your hand than theirs.” X
“Let me tell you something,” the antagonist said. “You want to get away with being a monster, you act like a hero.” X
“Dearest. Darling. Sweetheart,” the protagonist flatly recited the list of endearments the antagonist was most likely to wield in their conversations. “You’re play acting at intimacy again. God, it must be desperately lonely being you.” “Oh, love. I’m not the one play acting at anything – if I wanted to be intimate with you, baby, I’d bother to learn your name.” X
2) “Beautiful girl in need of saving, you’re predictable,” said the villain. She circled the hotel room, removing the silken scarf from around her neck and letting it drop. The heroine set her weapon slowly down on the bed beside them. “Compulsive need to play act a girl in need of saving,” she returned. “You’re transparent.” A smile flickered across the villain’s lips. “I like pretending to be you. It’s intimate.”“You think I need saving?” “Of course,” the villain purred. “I know who you’re up against.” X
“Shh, it’s alright,” the villain said. “You’re doing beautifully and I’m so proud of you. But that’s enough now. It was cruel of them to make you fight me - you could never have won. It’s not your fault.” X
+ 1; AKA the first heroes and villains prompt I wrote, of the classic style you might know me for (I wrote villainous prompts before this one, but they wouldn’t be what you guys call my villain and hero prompts in the same way)
“What happened to you?” He strained against the cuff, face twisted up and flushed. “You’re not like this - this isn’t you.”
“And how would you know what I’m like?” he drew the knife, caressed it along Marco’s cheek. “You left. And now you want to leave again…but the boss won’t be so happy about that, old friend.”
She weighed next to nothing in his arms. So fragile yet strong at the same time. They were breathing each other so deeply… The heat of the fire in their room had nothing on them. It was about comfort, it was about healing and it turned into so much more so fast. They were the extension of the fire at that moment.
“Let’s go bed.”
Jamie slowly walked the distance between where they stood and the bed, like he was walking on clouds. His hands running from her backside to her thighs and just holding her up as he did, had left a trail of tingling sensation that Claire was still reeling from. She needed his big hands on her again, lighting up her every nerve. There was a time not long ago that she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel it, or wanted to feel it, or that she could. But only those hands, made for her, given to him for her, like he had once said, could heal her.
She was running her smooth delicate fingers on his nape and upper back, drawing patterns and words they could not utter, since breathing was turning into a hardship at this point. Claire needed out of her stays, she felt restrained. All she wanted was his weight on her, his burning hot skin against her. She wanted to feel his muscles and scars, to kiss them, to lick his perfect worked stomach. Tonight she was hungry for him in a way that only love filled with lust could explain. And he is mine.
How is this woman mine? Jamie asked himself that question many times and caging Claire with his toned arms atop the bed just reminded him yet again of the wonder of her love for him. That flushed beauty, her mouth semi-open for his kisses, her teasing eyes… He ran his nose along her neck and caught her lips. She tugged on his hair for dear life and her tongue came out to dance with his, to claim him. Like any person else could compare… If he could, he would be claimed like this every single day of his life.
And the flames went higher…
Jamie held himself up on his elbows, close to the precipice of losing balance altogether, as Claire started running her foot up his calf, lifting the kilt ever so slightly. Biting him gently on the lower lip, she released the auburn curls and sat on the mattress. Like on their wedding night, he helped her untie the restraining stays, and exactly like on their wedding night their gazes didn’t leave one another. Only difference was, the desire was stronger, the air was heavier.
After removing the stays, Claire unbuckled the kilt’s belt and maddeningly teasing, slowly removed the plaid in all his glorious folds aside. He was intensely ready himself. It overwhelmed all her senses like always. If it weren’t Jamie, this lack of control would have left Claire nervous, but it could never happen with Jamie… “Jamie.” She breathed.
“I’m here, Sorcha.”
He lifted her shift over her head, the sudden gush of cool air caused by the movement of it making her nipples stiffen. That and the dark blue gaze that didn’t fail to shake her to her core. She was still in her stockings, one loose and one still fastened with a flimsy pink tie. She made a move to take them off but he didn’t let her, holding her hands, he placed them around his neck again, while he ran his hands up her glorious round arse and held her tight around the waist, closer to him. Not one inch of room left to breathe anything else but the sweet scent of each other, enhanced by the flames that only went higher.
He started kissing and sucking on her neck, tasting her herbal sweetness, moving one hand to comb her curls away. The only sound in Jamie’s ears were Claire’s exquisite soft moans. Those sounds that made him go mad, also made him relinquish all his senses to her incredibly smooth skin. Moving to her lips again, the intense and slow kiss held a promise of contained words. Words that were not enough to describe the chemistry that happened between them in these moments. He wanted to watch her lose herself.
Feeling Jamie peeling his beautiful mouth away from her, Claire whimpered. He replied by putting his forehead against hers and swayed for a bit holding her in place. One hand tucked her hair behind her ear and a cheeky smirk came upon his face as he dragged his hands over her arms and laid down. She knew what he wanted. And she wanted to give it to him.
That bed and its magic blue quilt was their sanctuary, a place that held many whispers and sweet nothings, said in the dark of the night and in the fresh light of the dawn.
Jamie lay down and placed a hand on his wife, his goddess, guiding her to climb on top of him. The sensations was overwhelmingly satisfying, it was a lightning coursing through them, echoes of thunder reverberating through their limbs. Smiling at her, he put both hands on her shoulders as she started to rock. Slowly, he let his arms run along hers and up again. Their breathing was erratic.
She was supporting herself on him, the marble of his torso feeling like an anchor in a sea of blue quilt. “You feel so good, Jamie.”
“Mo nighean donn”, he said in a whisper like sob. “Don’t stop, Claire…” Moaning, their hearts and bodies rode each other. Jamie placed his hand in the center of Claire’s chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of her heart, slowly reaching for her ivory breasts, kneading and teasing her.
He loved watching her - her head dropping backwards as she started to lose herself in the moment - trying to remain “bodily sober” enough to see her face change a thousand beautifully different ways with their lovemaking, but he too was about to lose it as well.
Claire leaned forward gifting her breasts to him and Jamie thought heaven was upon him. Taking one nipple in his mouth, he sucked and softly bit and felt Claire shiver under her hands. She held his head with some force and if Jamie were to die for lack of air, he would have died one happy man.
“You’re so beautiful, Claire. Please don’t stop mo nighean donn, more.”
“Oh Jamie, my love.”
Claire was starting to lose herself entirely, holding onto Jamie’s neck and shoulders wanting to kiss him, but not wanting him to take his mouth from where it was. Jamie groaned and sat up completely. She kissed him urging for his tongue to meet hers, trying to get into him and he was getting into her. So deep, so passionate, so so so much, but never enough.
Claire caressed his face, marveling at his furrowing brow, smoothing it, kissing it. They were still riding thunder as Jamie brought one hand down to touch the place, hot enough as to make metal melt, as to turn coal into diamond. Then, he buried his face in her neck, she burying her nails in his back, and ecstasy ensued. Together, they became one. Jamie kept his face on her neck, Claire was overdone with one long sob leaving her lips as the aftershocks came through. She couldn’t let go, she couldn’t breathe and neither could he.
After the lingering effects washed over them, Jamie held his well rested wife against him. She propped herself on her elbow, kissed and caressed his pecs and whispered, smiling, “Tha gaol agam ort, mo Seaumais”.
Victuuri Week 2017
– Day 6
Something I’ve always loved about these two is the sheer amount of silent communication we see shared between them. Even though, contrary to a lot of other things, this is actually something that can be captured in still frames, I felt it would do the scenes more justice to see them in their full glory. So in a first attempt for me to explore new territory, have a gifset dedicated to our favourite couple in celebration of VictuuriWeek 2017. Special guest appearance of their rings in most of the shots. :D
There are times when not speaking can scream louder than any words.
Summary: When Tom and Harrison buy their new apartment… they end up moving into the Reader’s building. The Reader is ecstatic, being a huge fan of the duo, particularly Tom. They’re desperate to catch a glimpse of Tom, desperate to get his attention. And they sure do… although a series of unfortunate and embarrassing accidents isn’t the way they wanted to do so.
Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader (romantic), Tom Holland x Harrison Osterfield (platonic), Harrison Osterfield x Reader (platonic)
Warning(s): Vaguely described sexy dancing, swearing, embarrassment
A/N: I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT I AM DOING THIS, TERROR IS COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS. Okay, now that that’s outta the way… I adore this song and Tom… so thought why not put the two together? Anyways, this is my first imagine in… awhile. The second one I’ve ever written, and the first one I’ve written on this blog. Please leave me some feedback!
P.S I know I use the f-word a lot. Sorry. It’s just… ingrained into my thoughts now.
Tom Holland and Harrison Osterfield had moved into the building your flat was in nearly a month ago. Initially, you were flabbergasted, and desperate for a sight of them. You adored both boys, even more so after the release of Spiderman: Homecoming… and just seeing them in person would surely put you on cloud nine. Mostly because you had the world’s biggest crush on Tom. You couldn’t have been more wrong.
Three days after they had moved in, you had been cleaning around the window near your fire escape and accidentally knocked one of your many potted plants off of the windowsill. It fell several stories to the pavement below… and almost hit Harrison fucking Osterfield. Both boys had looked up, clearly startled. You squeaked and promptly ducked back inside, face tomato red with mortification. You sunk to the floor and buried your face in your hands, heart pounding wildly. You’d almost killed one of your favourite celebrities! God. How could you be that stupid? Had they seen you? It had felt as though Tom was looking right at you…You shivered at the thought.
Then and there you vowed to never do something like that again and to never say a word about it, were you ever to bump into them. Unfortunately, the Universe had other plans for you, and that was only the first of many embarrassing incidents involving you and Tom Holland.
The next… escapade occurred roughly two weeks after the “Deadly Potted Plant Incident”, as your best friend had dubbed it through a fit of giggles the very night of the tragedy. You were returning from the library, a mountain of books stacked in your arms. Most were for research purposes, but a few were pleasure reads, and you were quite excited to look at every single book. The lift hadn’t been working the past few days, so you had to take the stairs. Misfortune, it seemed, was following you everywhere these days.
With a soft sigh, you started to climb, arms awkwardly positioned to keep a grip on the stack of books. You made it up two flights of stairs before disaster struck. You couldn’t see very well with all the books in the way and thought that there was another step when there actually wasn’t… you lurched and tumbled to the ground, books skidding across the landing every which way.
“Oh, fuck,” you whined, pushing up into a standing position, your bum going out, wincing as you straightened your knees. You gently rubbed at your knees, hissing at the pain, still bent over. There’d be some lovely purple bruises tomorrow. Fantastic. Someone had cleared their throat, startling you into making a rather undignified noise and somehow flailing your way into falling again. This time on to the landing. Smack on your ass. And of course- because the Universe hated you- It was Tom fucking Holland.
“Hey… are you alright, love?” He asked gently, squatting down in order to be eye-level with you. Your eyes went wide, cheeks warming significantly. God, he was so pretty up close… You opened and closed your mouth a few times, probably looking like a fish… of fucking course now was the time your voice chose to take a lunch break. After a few painful minutes, you were finally able to speak… and that made things even worse.
“No!” You squealed, scrambling backwards on all fours, “I almost killed Harrison with a potted plant last week and now-” You cut yourself off, gasping. You’d specifically told yourself never to mention that if you met Tom! God, you were such a mess! You quickly gathered your books and somehow sprinted up the stairs. Once you got into your apartment, you threw yourself on the couch, moaning over your embarrassment. Only you could mess up this bad.
The third incident happened the next week. You just couldn’t catch a break. You had, by this point, lulled yourself into a false sense of security. You hadn’t seen Tom or Harrison since the “Book Bumble Of Utter Humiliation” (okay, so you’d practically run away whenever either of them spotted you) and everything else in your life had been going pretty well. Your favourite professor had asked to keep one of your essays to use it as a future example.
You had just returned from grocery shopping, headphones in and two bags in your hand. The lift was finally working again, so you walked in. Your favourite song of the moment came on before the doors closed. Things had been getting better… you hadn’t had any more… eventful encounters with your famous sort-of neighbours. You could just… let go and dance to your favourite song, right? You put your bags on the ground, hips already starting to drop and move with the bass. Seconds later, you were full on dancing as though you were in a club. A bright smile bloomed on your face as you spun around slowly, circling your hips, hands in the air.
You hadn’t noticed that the lift had stopped… but you did see the doors opening over your shoulder mid hip-roll. And there, in all his lazy Sunday afternoon glory, was Tom Holland, mouth hanging open. Oh shit.
Mark your calendars, it’s time to celebrate our favourite son of Poseidon! August 18-25 is Percy Jackson’s week!
The rules are simple!
All types of posts are accepted (fanart, fanfiction, headcanons, gifsets, moodboards, edits, videos, playlists, etc.)
You don’t NEED to use the prompts but we hope you do!
Tag everything with #percyjacksonweek or #pjoweek within the first 5 tags so I’ll see it!
Please no NSFW as this is an all ages welcome event. (partial nudity/slight blood and gore allowed). If you’re unsure what falls under the NSFW umbrella don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask! Thank you for your cooperation!
And now for the most important part, the prompts!
Day 1 (Aug. 18): Blue
Day 2 (Aug. 19): Family / Sally Jackson/Blofis
Day 3 (Aug. 20): The Ocean / Water
Day 4 (Aug. 21): Loyalty / Friendship
Day 5 (Aug. 22): Romance / Shipping (any ships allowed!!!)
I’m super excited for this so please, reblog this post to get the word out! I’m excited to see what you all come up with! Don’t forget to tag your works #percyjacksonweek or #pjoweek (in the first five tags!!!) or @ this blog so I can reblog it!!!