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dutchess-of-fear · 1 year

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Charity event

Jonathan crane x goth reader

Warning: fluffy, Does soft Jonathan count as a warning

Masterlist

You knew you dress a bit differently, with darker clothes, and fishnets as gloves or as tights and spiders as a necklace, you are a goth, but others called you a freak.

And dating was tough until you meet your boyfriend Jonathan Crane, he accept with how you dress and what your interest was, he love just everything of my style and aesthetic, even when i collecting fake skulls and decorating them.

You had never felt so much happiness, and it was an annual charity event to help the fundings for Arkham Asylum and Jonathan Crane as you to be there for him, which you eagerly accepted and picked out my outfit for that evening.

It was a dress that looked like mortica addams dress but a put on my favourite black rose choker, laces fingerless gloves, fishnet tights and beautiful high heel black shoes.

I went out of me and Jonathan bedroom to show him the outfit and everything "my love, you look stunning for this evening, is that the dress from the Addams family we watched last week" I eagerly nodded and smile as Jonathan held my hand and spun me around giggling as I was brought into my lovers arms

"so do you really like how I look" I said messy with his tie slightly "absolutely my darling you look as beautiful as the night as you would say" he gave me a quick kiss on the lips before we got into our car and headed for the event,

Jonathan knows how people would treat me but I told him to ignore them as I have did for a very long time, but Jonathan really cares about me so much that he would literally give them his fear toxic and watch them scream out of fear of whatever phobia they have imaginable, but I luckily I can very much handle the critics and can take care of them.

We arrived at the event and got out of our car and walked inside, now I never expected that their would be near a whole room of people be at this event which there is which started to make me panic a bit, I then felt my hand squeeze softly as Jonathan whispered into my ear "Don't worry my sparrow I'm here beside you, stay close to me alright" I smiled and began to calm down as I heard him calling me by his favourite nickname for me in private.

We slowly decent from the staircase grabbing a glass of champagne in the process.

Everything was going well until I heard them whispered about me, now normally I'll just brush them off, but they were becoming more and more worse 'what on earth is that weirdo doing here?' ' she is the one that's dating Dr Crane? ' 'what do you mean? He is just like her? A freak' 'huh I wonder what he sees in her to go out with her' they became more and more harder to ignore them but I felt a another squeeze this time on my arm as I looked up and seen a stranger.

"why hello you must be Jonathan Crane and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) I'm Bruce Wayne" me and Jonathan shook his hand as Bruce began to speak to Jonathan to which he was annoyed by Bruce Wayne's presence.

I glance around to distract myself and I seen a couple of rich people looking at me like I was some sort of plague and began whispering amongst each other.

I couldn't take it anymore and began to walk to the exit, just then as I was walking off I felt a hand on my wrist, I turned around and saw Jonathan looking concerned for me and I try avert my eyes away from him and people began to stare at me like I was an circus performer.

He realised what was going on and made a possible mental note to terrified them with there worse fear soon.

He place his hand on my waist as walked out of there leaving them with there rumours and insults.

Once we were out a took a couple a deep breaths as I felt tears pricking my eyes, just then Jonathan pulled me into a hug and softy patted my hair, "its alright my darling, everything will be okay" he kiss my head as I began to calm down feeling protected around Jonathan's arms.

"come on lets go home, I never want to go to these Charity events ever again" I giggled at his response as we heard a familiar voice calling out to us, Jonathan scoffed as he seen who it was.

"I'm terribly sorry Mr Wayne but me and my partner are going home early, it was quite boring of a party and one I'll probably never go to again and just send the check or whatever you typically do for Arkham Asylum, good night to you" we then got into the car leaving Bruce Wayne lost for words as we drove off.

"You know you were being rude to him?" I spoke up, he then glance over at me with the one eyebrow raised saying "really? Me being rude? To a man that spends all his money on fancy cars and throwing his money on playboy bunny girls to be with him" a smile formed on my face as he focused on the road but can see from the corner of his eye.

"You are jealous of Bruce Wayne or are you afraid of him trying to get me to be as his playboy bunny girls as you call them" I dramatically said but couldn’t hold in my laughter at the end as he rolled his eyes, but I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek "Don't worry my scarecrow I only have eyes for you" he began to deeply blush at my words and he try to focused more on the road.

"So want to watch a movie tonight my dear?" He asked as I sat back and think "Honestly let's watch Corpse bride, plus the main character looks like you"

"No I definitely do not look like Victor from Corpse bride" he replied trying to sound annoyed but his smile says otherwise

We then got back home and began watching the movie cuddling up to each other "I love you Jon" he turned around and smiled before givinga quick peck on the lips "I love you too my sparrow"

#jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy #batman begins #the dark knigth rises #the dark knight #goth reader #nolanverse #batman #dc comics #dc villains

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eeveedel · 3 years

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WIP Sunday

Hello all, I was tagged by to post a bit of my current WIP alongside some “art” -- I don’t have a current moodboard but I thought I would provide some general ~~aesthetic pics and another preview of the rancher harry fic -- this time an HL meet cute! I hope you all enjoy, and happy Sunday

Harry heard a rapping at the screen door, and he grunted, shifting his weight forward so he could sit up and hoist himself out of his armchair.

He took a step forward on his good leg while his bad one dragged behind him. After a bit of walking around, it usually woke up enough for him to put more weight on it, but for now, after his rest, it was a dead weight of pins and needles behind him. It took a bit of effort to get to the front door, but he got there eventually. He grabbed his cane that was leaning by the door, and then opened the wood door, revealing just the screen and what lay beyond it.

There was a man in mint green scrubs and a thick corduroy jacket on his porch, perfectly centered between the big American flag hanging beside Harry’s door and the pots of tulips lining the front gate. The man at the front door was young. He had some creases around his eyes and mouth but his freshly shaved face looked so youthful, along with his bright eyes behind his big, wire frame glasses.

“Howdy,” Harry drawled, lifting his thermos to his mouth, “You must be — “ His tongue worked in his mouth, trying to come up with the name Margaret had given him last week. It wasn’t something common around here, and yet it still evaded him.

“Shoot, I’m sorry,” he sighed, pushing up the brim of his hat with his thumb, “Help me out, what’s your name, son?”

“Oh, I’m Dr. Tomlinson, but you can call me Louis,” he said. “Dr. Baldwin caught me up on some of the animals you have here and their needs, sir,” he said. “I know you have a pregnant cow nearing the end of term and a newly pregnant mare that just needs a bit of a checkup as your main concerns. She also told me you had a few roosters and a chicken coop, is that correct?”

Harry cracked a smile and nodded.

“Well, that’s correct. Seems like you did your homework,” he said. “Cherry’s gonna have a baby now damn day now and I just found out about Goldie last month.”

He took a sip of his coffee, shuffling his feet and readjusting his cane as he did.

“You don’t need to worry too much about the chickens, they nearly take care of themselves. Got a few pigs but those are going to market in a couple months, but you can take a look at ‘em if you want to.”

He pushed at the screen door, moving out onto the porch to meet Louis directly. When he was in front of the man, he could see Louis looked even younger up close, and he was nearly a full head shorter than Harry.

“Can I get you something to drink or anything before we go out?” Harry asked, taking the briefest moment to look the young vet over.

“Um, maybe a glass of water after we finish up? It is a bit hot out today, even though it’s January,” Louis rambled. “I mean, I came from San Francisco, so it’s still hot there— anyways, sorry.”

He exhaled, his cheeks already pink.

“Could you show me to Cherry first, please?” Louis asked. “I want to make sure she and her calf are in tip top shape.”

Harry smiled gently. The young vet was eager, and looked a bit flustered. He tried not to let his gaze linger too much longer, although he already liked him.

“Sure thing. I’ll show you out the pasture. Cherry’s probably out gossiping with her friends.”

He walked to the edge of the porch, taking the small ramp that was easier to navigate with his cane.

“Tell me, they have a lot of cows out in California, Louis?” he asked as they trudged along the path, “Because if this is your first one, I’ll give you a fair warning. Cherry’s a sweet girl but a little sassy.”

“Well, I grew up in San Francisco, so no, we don’t have a lot of farms there,” Louis said. “But I studied with a bit of everything in veterinary school, and went to a lot of farms up north. So yeah, I’ve worked with cows.”

“Good, good,” Harry nodded.

He walked through along the dirt path that led from the house to the rest of the ranch. He led Louis past the chicken coop and the large horse barn, moving out to the back part of the property with the cattle barn and the large pasture. His leg was starting to wake up, making his gait a bit less strained.

“Where did you study?” he asked.

“UC Santa Barbara for undergrad and then vet school at UC Berkeley,” Louis said. “I just graduated last spring, actually.”

“Congratulations,” Harry said. “Before you look at my girls, you wanna tell me know if you were bottom of your class?”

Louis laughed a little, scratching the back of his neck.

“I was actually valedictorian.”

“Damn. Undergrad or vet school?”

“Uh,” Louis said, smiling sheepishly. “Both? And high school.”

“Jeez,” Harry chuckled. “Well. I didn’t even go to college, so you’ve already impressed me many times over.”

They arrived in front of the enormous cattle barn and the wide pasture beyond it. Harry smiled to himself, lifting the hand that wasn’t gripping his cane.

“Yep,” he smiled to himself, “There she is.”

He gestured to the pasture, and specifically pointed to one of the cows, a rich red brown and swollen at the belly, who was smack in the middle of a group of five other black and white cows.

“Gossiping, just like I thought,” Harry said. He reached for the gate, going to unlock it, “Well, come on, you can give me your expert opinion.”

“Wow, she’s beautiful,” Louis marveled.

“Don’t let her hear that, it’ll go straight to her head,” Harry said. He opened the gate fully, then opened the pasture and turned around, holding it open for Louis.

Once they were both inside, Harry approached Cherry, cooing and clicking his tongue as he walked. She looked up and stared at him, chewing slowly on a thick clump of grass, but when she was done, she let out a low moo and slowly but surely waddled towards him.

“Here she comes,” Harry smiled.

They both stood and watched her as she slowly came over, and when she did, she immediately gravitated to Harry.

“Hey, princess,” Harry said. He set his hand on her head and gently stroked her with his thumb, smiling to himself as she blinked at him with her big, milk chocolate eyes.

“Louis’s gonna take a look at you, pretty girl,” Harry said. “You be nice to him.”

Harry kept petting Cherry’s head and then looked over to Louis. The vet was kneeling on the ground, unlocking the briefcase he had brought. It was funny, seeing him with a shiny, clearly barely used case. Margaret had always just shoved her tools into her ancient Jansport backpack, which was covered in twenty years’ worth of coffee stains and held together with duct tape and spite.

Louis took out a pair of latex gloves and a stethoscope, then moved closer to the animal. He gave her a settle pat on her swollen side, then put the stethoscope’s earpieces in. He set the metal diaphragm on her side, and Cherry jolted a bit, but Louis cooed at her and kept petting her side as he listened. He closed his eyes and nodded a bit as he moved the cold metal over her stomach, humming softly to himself.

Harry watched Louis carefully touch and examine Cherry, the young man’s hands gentle but sure as he did his job. Harry had had his hesitations before Louis arrived. But he seemed at home, and like he really cared about doing a good job. Harry could appreciate that. He had spent years building up trust with Margaret to work with his animals, but, maybe he was just getting sentimental at his age, or Louis really did have a special touch, but he immediately felt just fine with the younger man taking care of his herd.

After a few minutes Louis opened his eyes and ducked his head down, examining Cherry’s udders and nether regions. Finally, he lifted his head and pulled himself up, taking the stethoscope out of his ears and draping it around his neck.

“Well, she looks great,” Louis said as he peeled off his gloves and shoved them into his jacket pocket. “The calf’s got a nice, strong heartbeat. She seems about a couple weeks away, but just keep an eye on her – “

“Early labor, yeah,” Harry said. “I always start preparing at least a couple weeks in advance of the due date, anyways. My girl Caroline went into labor a couple years ago, fuckin’ 16 days before she was due, and I was in Austin for the weekend. Only time I left the house in months, and she picked that weekend.”

One of the white cows in the pasture mooed loudly, and Harry looked over his shoulder and glared.

“Yeah, I’m talkin’ about you, fuckin’ drama queen,” he scoffed. “She’s a good girl. And a tough one. Had a delivery all by herself and nearly gave me a heart attack when I got home and there was a new baby toddling around.”

He turned back to Louis, offering an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, don’t mean to bore you with farm stories right off the bat.”

“It’s okay,” Louis said. “I love to hear animal stories.”

“Well, let me know in a few months if you’re sick of cow stories. That’s nearly the only kind of stories we have in this town.”

Louis just laughed and lifted his hand, shifting his glasses up his nose.

“Would you show me to Goldie, please? Just to see how her early stages are going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Harry said. “Goldie’s in the small barn, come on.”

#rancher harry #uwu

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 4 years

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Twice wanting to help with their Black girlfriend’s hair would include...

I’mma see how this goes. I know all Black hair is different, but I’m going off of my own experiences as a Black woman. I just wanted to make some Black women Once’s smile with this. Some of these have potentials for becoming entire fics, but let me know if ya’ll like them. Hope ya’ll enjoy!

Nayeon

• Nayeon would be so fixated on your hair, giggling every time you combed through it and applied whatever products you chose.

• She’d be super curious, it might come off as a bit rude sometimes but she’d always follow it up with aeygo, a hug or kiss. If you were really having a hard time with your hair, maybe all three.

• “Jagi, your hair looks so different from before? Do all these different gels and moisturizers help?”

• You nod, eyes staying on your reflection in the mirror as your hands grow tired.

• Nayoen notices, reaching to grab your hand, but flinches as you sigh.

“I’m sorry Nayeon, I still need to get out a few more kinks in the back.”

“Kinks?”

•You explain how your hair is extremely different from her own, going into detail as she listens to every word. The moment you finish, she asks if she could help.

This took you a little by surprise, but you allowed her to help moisturize your hair.

“Like this?” she’d ask as she carefully rubbed the Creme of Nature throughout your hair.

You nodded and showed her how to comb down to the root.

•Whenever you’d flinch or jump as she comb through a tangle or knot, she’d stop kiss you and rub down your arms.

• It didn’t take as long with Nayeon’s help, but instead of stopping because of your tired hands, it’d be Nayeon wanting to make-out

• “But my hair’s not finished yet?” you’d ask.

Nayeon would flash her signature bunny grin and kiss you anyway.

“You’re still perfect jagi.”

Jeongyeon

• Jeongyeon sat down in front of you with her attention fully on you with a puzzled expression as she watched you mix in the two relaxers you bought with a tiny, flat wooden stick.

• She’d be so engrossed as you put on the gloves and began to comb out your hair; her expression changing from curious to concerned in a matter of moments as you tensed at the knots and kinks you came across.

• She hurried to retrieve your moisturizer, spritz and all while looking to help.

“You forgot to add the moisturizer,” she’d say. “Isn’t that why it’s so hard to comb? I remember you told me. To get it softer.”

• Your heart sank at her soft tone, she remembered.

“Aww, well I can’t mix the products in with the perm,” you say, gesturing to the relaxer before you. “I have to comb it out then put it in.”

“Will that make it easier to manage?” she asks. “I-I just hate to see you in pain.”

• You had to embrace Jeongyeon to ease her, she always worried about knots and kinks a lot.

“Could I put the perm in for you? it could can go an hour less if I help.”

• You couldn’t say no with Jeongyeon’s intense stare and how much you already knew she cared and wanted to learn.

• It took awhile for Jeongyeon to comb a bit harder without fear of hurting you, but once you reassured her, it went well.

• Showed you memes while you sat with the perm in your hair and applied more Vaseline to your forehead to avoid burns and rashes.

• She shampooed your hair at your request after the perm was initially washed out to ensure it was completely out. She scratched your scalp too, just to ensure a bit more comfort during the process.

• Helped you blow dry, grease your scalp and all before ending the day with cuddles and kisses.

Momo

• Momo is the type of girlfriend who’d sit you in between her legs to help you with your hair.

• You thought against it, getting flashbacks from when your mom would fix your hair but of course you couldn’t resist her pouts.

• Momo might be a bit slower than the others when picking up on fixing your hair.

• She’d try to run her fingers through the knotted, kinky parts, but stopped as soon as you flinched or hissed in pain.

“Sorry!” she’d yelp before stopping completely to hug and kiss your cheek.

• You’d always reassure her and told her to watch until she was confident enough to do it herself.

• Even if she was 100 percent confident, she’d always try to make you feel comfortable while she combed through the tough parts.

“Boo! Mommy wants to hold you!” she’d say to Boo as the dog trotted into the room.

It’s as if the dog and owner were linked because Boo came over to you, crawled into your lap and licked your fingers.

• Momo always whispered sweet nothings in your ear, urging you to hold Boo tight for you both.

“Boo and I got you baby, I’m almost done. I promise.“

Sana

• Would love to help braid your hair all the time.

• Was confused as to why you need so many sections platted off.

• “So, you aren’t keeping it braided up this time?” she asked.

“No, well at least over night,” you say. “I’ll take it out in the morning.”

“Why? I love the braids, they bring out your eyes.”

• You tell her about your worries of wearing your hair in braids or cornrows, due to how people perceive hairstyles like that.

• Sana always told you otherwise, but wanted to go with whatever hairstyles that made you happy and comfortable.

• Whenever your hand would get tired while taking out your braids, Sana would help.

• She’d always ask if she was going too fast or slow, making sure you were ok.

• Would be confused about the concept of a bonnet, since she loved touching your hair, but understood why thanks to a talk with you.

• She’s puzzled as hell in the morning when you both way up and it’s halfway on your head.

“What happened?” she asks.

You shook your head as you adjusted it back on your head.

“It happens when I sleep kind of rough.”

Jihyo

• Jihyo is the type of girlfriend who will make an attempt to buy hair care products for you.

Calls you asking which product you use.

“What’s it called again? The pink bottle, right?” she asks.

“Pink oil moisturizer,” you say. “Could you pick up a thing of grease too?”

“Of course baby.”

• Would like to completely educated on your hair, texture and all before she even attempts to help.

• You’ve even caught her looking up Youtube videos on how to braid, twist etc.

“You can always ask, you know,” you’d say.

“I know, but it’s a sensitive subject and I just want to approach it the right way.”

• When she does try though, she sits you in her lap and you have to talk her through it while she does so.

• Comments on how beautiful you are and kisses your cheek and neck whenever you get flustered.

• Always has your bonnet ready when and if you need it.

Mina

• Mina was always fascinated with your hair, and it wasn’t until you stayed over one night that she began to ask a lot of questions about it.

• You had never seen her so inquisitive, especially when she was in the middle of a game.

“Is everything ok, Mina?”

“Yeah jagi, it’s just--your hair is so--amazing! You need that entire bag of products to do it?”

• Will just stare into your eyes while you’re fixing your hair, and grins with glee once you catch her(like in the gif above).

“You look so beautiful when you’re concentrating like that,” she says. “I-I can’t help it.”

• Mina is the one who catches on extremely quick on how to fix your hair and often asks if she could help with any new styles you’d like to try.

“Only if you want to,” she’d say. “I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

• Once you’re comfortable with her fixing it, she’d definitely let you sit in her lap while she works and you’re gaming.

“You’re doing amazing baby, you barely tensed up,” Mina says. “Gaming really does relax you.”

Dahyun

• Dahyun loved your hair, yet always tread lightly when it came to how you when about doing and fixing it.

• She often came up to you with a giddy smile, yet she couldn’t find the words to tell you.

“Hi babe, you good?” you’d ask.

“Yeah, uh. I know you do it yourself and all but I can help. You seem a little down at times.”

• While you showed her how to do it, she’d always lighten the mood if you grew frustrated.

If your hand got tired she’d hold it and never let go until you’re smiling.

• Like Jeongyeon, she will show you memes and even take pictures of you (after you’ve finished a new hairstyle of course :) ) so you can make your own.

The captain would read: “When you’re too pretty for your own good” or “when you know you’re girlfriend material”

Of course Dahyun would keep it between the both of you, and it never ceased to make you smile or cringe at times.

• Is super giddy when you let her practice braiding your hair. She gets super engrossed in talking about your hair and just talking about the funny thing that have happened that you have to put her back on track at times.

Chaeyoung

• Chaeyoung always wanted to know more about your hair and finally asked to help you during wash day.

• You happened to be about to go over to the sink with your towel, shampoo and conditioner.

Chaeyoung popped in to use the bathroom and couldn’t help but ask if you needed her to do anything to assist.

• Like Jihyo, she’d do her research, but will always find your opinion on your own hair valid.

• Loves to sketch you whenever you just fixed your hair, and gives you a cute aesthetic like Cottagecore.

• Will just take you outside in the fresh air to take in how beautiful you look and take many Polaroids.

• When applying whatever products you need, she’d be super slow and extremely careful. Often times a little too slow, since the oils and/or moisturizers feel a certain way to her.

“Ooo, it feels so cool!” she’d say.

“Uh, Chae? You still have four more sections to go.”

“Oh, right! Sorry!”

Tzuyu

• You both were going to dinner and a movie one night. Tzuyu really wanted to see you, but your hair wasn’t really working for you. It usually didn’t take you as long.

• Tzuyu texted and called you from the living room where she waited, but got worried and knocked on your bedroom door, urging if you were ok or not.

• You told her to give you a few minutes, only for you to turn around and see her standing at the threshold of door (of course you forgot to lock it). Tzuyu staring at while you finish combing out your hair.

• She just stared, blankly then walked out.

• At the end of the date that night she just brought the encounter up again.

“I could have helped jagi,” she said.

“Tzuyu, you don’t have to.”

“But you were frustrated. I know that look.”

• Unlike the others, I think Tzuyu would leave most of the handling to you. It’s not that she didn’t find herself capable, but that she knew you could handle it.

• She mostly held parts of hair for you, along with apply grease or spritz to an area you couldn’t reach.

• Loves to just sit in your presence, take in your beauty and compliment you.

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sondepoch · 4 years

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A Sleepover of the Ages (Simeon x Reader x Asmodeus)

When Diavolo's retreat gets extended, you want to relive your favorite human tradition: a sleepover! But you quickly learn that there's a difference between a human sleepover and one with an angel and a demon. Still, that won't stop you from enjoying the night with these two precious boys.

~Oneshot

MASTERLIST

Three days and two nights.

That's how long this retreat was supposed to be.

And you've (miraculously) managed to survive three days and two nights. So why is it that you're still in Diavolo's castle?!

"I can't believe the retreat got extended," Asmodeus murmurs, groaning. "I would have brought even more luggage if I'd known this would happen!"

"Don't worry too much," Simeon responds with a light smile as he opens the door to your room. He pulls it open and sighs at the bareness of it. Each of you have already packed up and prepared to leave, but it seems that you'll all be needing to unload your things once more. "At least, Lucifer will be making sure that there won't be any other pillow fights."

You let out a light laugh at that, remembering the Avatar of Pride's hour-long assault from the night before. It had resulted in everyone collapsing on the floor somewhere or the other, knocked out by one of his many pillow throws of death. Even Solomon's protective spells ended up useless, the white-haired mage just another body on the floor after Lucifer's anger was unleashed. (Though you suspect that the elder demon was also doing it to have fun.)

But this retreat hasn't been all that bad.

You've managed to secure another pact altogether, with Asmodeus—but now that you'll be spending an entire night in the same room as him, you can't help but think that it might end up being a curse in disguise.

"Hey, MC~" He coos, using his demonlike strength to pull you into his bed. "Now that Mammon isn't here to disturb us, how would you like to sleep with me?" You feel your face heat up at the words. The demon made it sound innocent enough, as if all you'd be doing was sharing a bed, but you can already tell that his intentions are far from pure.

"Asmodeus, don't disturb MC." Simeon's disapproving gaze flits over the demon as he pulls you from his grasp, and you're forced to remember that while demons are of unimaginable strength, angels seem to also share in those superhuman qualities. You have to avert your eyes from Simeon's toned muscles when he unclasps the white cloak around his shoulders.

"Oh my~" Asmodeus teases, at Simeon's side in an instant. "Is this what you've been hiding from us these past three days?"

Asmodeus wraps Simeon in a strange embrace from behind, not hugging the angel as much as he's feeling up his muscles. "Don't worry, I could treat you instead."

"Asmo, stop flirting with him," You murmur, flopping onto your bed. You toss a glance toward your luggage which Barbatos had magicked back up here before turning your gaze away. Nope. You're not going through the hassle of unpacking all over again.

"Thank you, MC," Simeon murmurs with a sigh, his usual smile back on his face. He flashes you a look-what-we-have-to-deal-with look, and you can't help but wonder how he manages to stay in such good nature all the time, especially when he's constantly in the presence of his natural enemies. "Anyway, I was planning on sleeping now. This whole retreat has been rather exhausting, wouldn't you agree?"

"Wait!" You murmur, startling the two men. You let an eager smile spread across your face, silently praying that your human charms will be able to convince them of what you're about to suggest. "Why don't we all stay up?"

"Oh~?" Asmodeus coos, clapping his hands together. "A three-way! I didn't know you were confident enough to take us both at once, but if you're up to it then—"

"I don't think that's what MC was trying to imply." Simeon shakes his head and you can't help but think that he's like a chaperone for Asmodeus. He turns to you. "We should stay up doing what?"

"Just stay up! We do it all the time in the human world!" You let your smile widen, memories of your time with friends in the human world flashing through your mind. "It's called a sleepover! If you have a few friends gathered together and you're all supposed to be sleeping in the same room, you just stay up the whole night and watch movies or talk and have fun and stuff. They're awesome!"

Simeon brings a gloved hand up to his face, considering the idea. "I suppose Diavolo's objective with this retreat was to bring the three realms closer together. Trying this human tradition may not be such a bad idea."

Next to him, though, Asmodeus pouts. "Ehh? But if I don't sleep my face will be all puffy in the morning!" He brings two hands to his cheeks, feeling his soft skin. "And my skin is already suffering from Lucifer's pillow attack last night..."

"Nope!" You jump off the bed, suddenly refreshed. When you proposed the idea of a sleepover, you were really only trying to get Simeon to agree. With his consent, you have no hesitations about forcing Asmodeus to play along irrespective of how the demon feels about it. "You're staying up! It's decided! We're having a sleepover!"

You clap your hands eagerly, and the two men in front of you seem to let go of their final doubts after seeing how happy it makes you.

"So how does this 'sleepover' begin? A traditional ritual? A prayer for a fulfilling night? A sacred chant?" Simeon's gaze is serious, and you have to stifle your laughter.

"Um, most of the sleepovers I've been to have started off as a pool party. But that doesn't matter!" You pinch the fabric of the bed you've spent the past two nights sleeping on. It's a bit on the thicker side, but it should work. "Let's start by building a fort!"

You started off eager, beyond optimistic about the idea of having a sleepover when you haven't had one since leaving the human world...but you quickly find that there are some differences between your normal human friends, and the demon and angel sitting in front of you.

"A fort? You want us to cast a fortification?" Simeon asks with concerned eyes, uncertainty creeping in. He glances around the bedroom, wondering how you plan to turn it into a protected stronghold.

It takes all your power not to facepalm then and there.

At Asmodeus's next words, you can only stare in disbelief. "No! MC means a military fort! It'll be tough, but we should be able to transform these walls with some high-level sorcery."

After you manage to explain that what you meant was a blanket fort, though, both Simeon and Asmodeus end up being shockingly helpful. Apparently, living for thousands of years gives you a pretty deep understanding of how to manipulate fabrics, and within minutes the two of them have suspended your bed-sheet in the air, somehow managing to tie the four corners to the three bedposts that are closest to the center of the room.

From there on, you all work together to double up two quilts on the ground as a makeshift carpet, and after the skeleton of the blanket fort is completed, everything becomes about the aesthetic.

You and Simeon creep around on your knees inside the fort, straightening out corners and tightening knots that need to be tightened. Outside, Asmodeus dances around, tossing additional blankets on top of the fort to create velvety walls to the structure. He spends nearly five whole minutes fiddling with the two blankets closest to the door, attempting to get them to match the shape of an opening curtain before you finally pull him inside.

"This is perfect!" You exclaim as you gaze around the fort. The bedposts that support the blanketed ceiling are fairly high up, so you're able to lean your back against the bedframe and sit upright with no problems. Simeon, on the other hand, is struggling.

"It's...low," He murmurs, craning his neck down. He keeps a hand on top of his head, earnestly trying his best not to disturb the ceiling of this fort, but you can tell that it's a struggle.

"No problem!" Asmodeus exclaims, extending a hand outward. He's more energetic than usual, which is surprising, given how mopey he originally was about the idea of staying up the whole night. He closes his hand into a fist and instantly, the entire fort begins to glow a faint purple, a mirror of the magenta hue radiating off Asmodeus's body.

You glance at Simeon, wondering whether the angel is as concerned over Asmodeus's actions as you are, but he seems nonchalant as the demon continues casting his magic.

And after the spell is complete, you understand why.

"Woah!" You exclaim, glancing around wildly. "I had no clue you could do that! Why didn't you tell me? This blanket fort looks amazing now!"

You glance upward, unable to even close your mouth in awe of how brilliant the fort looks. In truth, the fact that the three of you had managed to erect a ceiling for the fort already put it above all the blanket forts you'd built with your human friends, but this? Asmodeus's spell completely reworked all the blankets in the fortress: the fabrics move on their own, straightening and reknotting themselves until the structure has completely shifted. For starters, the ceiling is now a dome, the topmost part of the blanket knotted around the chandelier in your quarters. And the way the rest of the quilts draped down from the top truly makes your fort look like a princess's room, the most brilliant fort you've ever seen.

"A job well done, Asmodeus," Simeon compliments, now able to sit upright.

"Call me Asmo," The demon says with a wink. Asmodeus—or Asmo, rather—then turns his gaze to you, where you still have your mouth dropped open in awe of how beautiful this whole setup is. "Oh my, MC~ You certainly seem impressed. If you want, I have something even more remarkable in my pants that I could show you. I'm sure you'd love it~"

Yep.

Moment ruined.

Congrats, Asmo.

You flash the demon a dirty look, but even you can't hold up the facade for long before your frown turns into a laugh. You flop down on the soft floor, spreading your limbs out like a starfish while Simeon stretches next to you. "This is the best fort I've ever seen."

"I'm glad. This was...surprisingly fun, given that all we did was rearrange blankets." Simeon ruffles your hair, his smile bright as he gazes down at you. "What's next on the sleepover agenda?"

"Ehhhh?" You let your mouth drop in mock disbelief, ignoring how much your whine sounds like Asmo's. "You don't want to savor how awesome this is? Lie down on your back! It feels so good to appreciate all our hard work!" You pat the empty spaces next to you, inviting both Simeon and Asmo to lean back with you.

You know that they're only doing it to humor you, but they finally lean back by your side. "Oh," Simeon murmurs softly when his back presses into the ground. Asmo makes a similar sound, and you can't help but smile.

It's something you've done in every sleepover.

People always live such rushed lives. Even in their relaxation, it's hard to fully lie back and just chill, which is why you always make your friends do this. It doesn't even matter if the blanket fort attempted was successful or not—there's something about just leaning back and looking up, letting every muscle in your body loose and simply bathing in repose, that nothing else can replicate.

And while your human friends didn't always appreciate it, the sounds of contentment coming from Asmo and Simeon are more than enough to tell you that they understand you.

They get it.

"I could stay like this for the rest of the night," Asmo murmurs with a content sigh.

"Do that and you'll fall asleep," You respond. "And that breaks rule number three of all sleepovers!"

"Rule number three?" Simeon asks. "There are rules to sleepovers?"

"Of course," You stretch your hand up above your hand, shifting it with one eye closed until your palm is centered in the blanket fort's dome. You extend one finger up. "Rule number one: What happens in a sleepover stays in a sleepover."

Next to you, you hear Asmo smirk at that rule. You can already hear the flirtatious comment on his tongue before you raise a second finger and continue, not even giving the demon a chance. "Rule number two: No secrets! Whether you're playing truth-or-dare or FMK, you have to be completely honest! And you don't need to worry about any secrets getting out, because rule number one prevents that!"

"What's truth-or-dare?"

"And what's FMK?"

"Um...on second thought, it's best not to play either of those games when Asmo is here." You chuckle lightly, holding back a shudder at all the lewd innuendos that he would throw your way if you were to introduce either game to him. "And the third rule, the last rule, is to stay up as late as possible! That means no sleep!"

"Eh?" Asmo whines. "But it's called a sleep-over!"

You let your hand drop to the blanket you're on top of.

"Hm," Simeon says, thinking out loud. "So how do we bind ourselves to these rules? Do you swear on your lives? Or perform rituals? Or is it just that you're subject to God's wrath if you fail to properly adhere to them?"

You twist your head to the left, staring straight into Simeon's emerald eyes at his question. He's not serious, is he?

And as usual, Asmo somehow manages to top his comment, suggesting something even more outrageous.

"Oh, you angels are so uncreative. Humans obviously make blood pacts."

You sigh helplessly, unable to do anything but shake your head at the ridiculous propositions tossed forth by Simeon and Asmo as they continue to debate how humans ensure that these rules are followed through with, each idea worse and more unrealistic than the last.

"It's an honor system," You finally say, when their debate comes to a standstill. "A sleepover is all about trust. Trusting the people you're spending the night with, and letting them see a new side to you, no matter how vulnerable. You just have to trust that everyone will stay true to the rules."

"I had no clue you trusted us so much~" Asmo teases, rolling over so that he's on his side and staring straight at you. He tilts your chin up toward him and leans in dangerously close. "Is it truly wise to trust a demon?"

You stiffen.

Asmodeus's eyes are bright with the fire of his namesake. Lust, his eyes spell out as he looks at you, gaze unwavering with that devilish smirk on his face.

You're frozen. And as Asmo's lips draw closer, you feel a smidgen of fear seep in.

Simeon is the one to snap you both out of it, placing a tender hand on your shoulder and a more admonishing squeeze on Asmo's. It's subtle, but the protective gesture means more than words can say.

Next to you, Asmo laughs, sitting up to face Simeon. "You two are no fun~" He teases, the normal flirtatious grin back on his face.

Simeon sighs for the umpteenth time. It suddenly dawns on you that it was no coincidence that Diavolo placed you in the same room as a demon and an angel. There's no doubt that Solomon can hold his own against his roommates, but Simeon's purpose here isn't just to rest in the same room. He's here to protect you, the only other human in the entire Devildom. So that his angelic qualities can negate whatever demonic attributes Asmodeus may have brought with him into the room.

But still, your words from barely thirty seconds ago flash through your mind.

A sleepover is all about trust. Trusting the people you're spending the night with.

You drag your hand forward, hesitating for a moment before you place it on top of Asmo's. His hand is larger than yours, but you give it a squeeze. "I do trust you, Asmo." You flash him a smile and turn toward Simeon, lacing your fingers with his when his palm is under yours. "And I trust you, too."

Your smile is dazzling as you grin at them, all fears of angel and demon alike vanishing. That alone is enough to melt all the tension in the room, and within seconds both of the men and your sides are relaxed once more.

"What's next, hm?" Simeon asks. He'd started out hesitant about this whole idea, but he now seems eager to see what plans you have in store for them.

"We should tell scary stories to each other and cuddle up when one of us gets scared~" Asmo exclaims with a chuckle. He says it as a joke, but his guess is spot-on.

"Actually, Asmo's right."

"Whoa! Does that mean you'll reward me, MC~"

"No, Asmo." You smack Asmo's arm before he can protest, giving it a gentle whack to tell him to tone it down. Given that he's one of the strongest demons in the entire Devildom, you probably had no reason to hold back on him, but your more docile instincts from being surrounded by non-indestructible humans always prevail. "But you can start us off!"

You flash the demon an expectant grin, pulling yourself into a seated position. In truth, you have high hopes for this story. Back in your days in the human world, the scary stories used to be your favorite part of every sleepover—but none of the tales ever really measured up. (Except for that one time your best friend read off a horror story about clowns and your other friend then barged into the room in full horror-clown makeup, laughing like a maniac. Yeah, that was terrifying. Short-lived, but utterly terrifying.)

"Get ready to be scared," Asmo warns as he lets his body glow purple again while he casts another spell, and when the purple light has faded it's so dark that you can't even see Simeon's face. You wrap your hand around his, the eagerness you were feeling one second ago now turned into a queer mix of both dread and excitement.

A horror story from a real demon. That's the dream, isn't it?

And so Asmo begins.

And so Asmo also fails.

By the time he's complete, you're left more confused than anything else.

"Asmo...what was the scary part?" Simeon asks, voicing your every thought. You think back to the plot of the story Asmo just shared, from the beginning where there was only the princess in the castle guarded by the dragon to the end, where she and the prince who saved her lived happily ever after, and the middle which was mostly about her falling in love.

"Yeah," You agree with Simeon after another moment's deliberation. "Was the fight scene between the dragon and the prince supposed to be the 'horror' part?"

"Eh?" Asmo exclaims, using his magic to turn all the lights back on. He turns to you with his mouth wide open. "The entire story was terrifying! The dragon was the most handsome in the entire kingdom of dragons—he was protecting the princess! But then the prince came and saved her, and he wasn't even super attractive. And the princess chose the average prince over the beautiful dragon just because she was raised to believe that the dragon was a monster! How terrifying is that?"

You stare at Asmo in disbelief. A part of you should have expected this from the demon; it might have been scarier if he'd actually come out with a true horror story.

"Oh, Asmo. Did you find this story scary because you're afraid that you'll be the dragon and that some prince will steal the princess MC away?" Simeon murmurs with a twinkle in his eye, a slight smirk on his face. "Oh my, does that make me the prince?"

For the first time, you see Simeon teasing and Asmo sulking as the latter pouts and crosses his arms. "Dragons are cooler! Right, MC? Aren't demons better than angels?"

You smile, pressing a quick kiss to the cheeks of both Asmo and Simeon. You had hesitated before doing it, but the look of surprise and wild blush on their faces makes it worth it.

"They're equally cool. Now, Simeon! Your turn!"

You and Asmo give the angel a moment to collect his thoughts before he takes his turn to regale you with a brilliant story. To his credit, he really tries to include horror. You can tell by his use of the "evil clown" and "omniscient witch" that he's trying his best. Unfortunately, his angelic spin on the entire plot makes the story sound like a kid's movie.

Impressive, but not quite what you're looking for.

"That...wasn't scary, was it?" Simeon drops his head when he's done. You pat him on the shoulder, comforting him by saying 'at least it wasn't like Asmo's' and then it's your turn.

And if there's one thing you're good at, it's telling horror stories.

It takes you a moment to pick one, but you finally settle on the tale of Bloody Mary.

By the time you finish, ending with an ominous warning about mirrors (more directed to Asmo then anything else) you're satisfied, and you can feel how stiff Simeon is. The uncomfortable look on his face lets you know that you did a good job with your telling, but you can't help but feel a pang in your heart when he quietly asks why you had to make it so scary.

But if your horror story was bad, Asmo makes it even worse.

"Hey, guys..." He trails off, and for the first time, you hear what must be Asmo's completely serious voice. You and Simeon look at each other worriedly, probably wondering the same thing. Did we break Asmo? But the demon's next words are truly chilling. "The human tale of Bloody Mary is true. She's a demon. I met her four thousand years ago. And...I think we should summon her."

Asmo pulls out a mirror—you momentarily wonder how he managed to pull one out so quickly before realizing that this is the narcissistic Asmo himself—and he begins to recite a demonic chant.

In seconds, you and Simeon are wrapped in each other's arms in a meek sort of protection, screaming together and at Asmo to stop and not summon the terrifying woman you just spent the past half hour depicting as the scariest entity in the world, before Asmo finally drops the mirror.

The pin-drop silence that follows is deafening, and you cling to Simeon tighter, quietly thinking that if Bloody Mary really does appear, then you'll sacrifice both men in the room and make a run for Lucifer's quarters before anything can happen to you.

But Asmo is the one to break the silence.

"Just kidding~"

Cue the next round of screaming.

You and Simeon team up to throw every pillow in sight at the demon, snatching them back as soon as they hit him to leave him with nothing to defend himself. "Ah!" Asmo exclaims, covering his face. "Not my face!" You suddenly wish for Lucifer, furious at Asmo for being such a little devil. You were actually scared for a moment there.

"Enough, enough!" Asmo groans out after what feels like an eternity of whacking him with feather-stuffed pillows. He breathlessly crawls next to Simeon and leans his back on one of the only spots in the entire blanket fort with a bed. "If I'd known you two were such scaredy-cats, I would have been a little less convincing," He murmurs with a wink, snuggling up against Simeon. "But this angel here looks so cute when he's scared~"

Simeon makes no motion to shake Asmo off, only leaning back on the bedpost.

"What time is it?" He asks with a yawn, and you can tell that the sudden exercise of assaulting Asmo via pillows tired him out.

You check your D.D.D. and are surprised to find that it's already well past four in the morning, telling him as much.

"But we can sleep now if you like," You murmur when a wave of drowsiness hits you. Like it's contagious, you can tell that even Asmo seems tired.

"B-but rule three!" Simeon exclaims, surprised.

"Rules are meant to be broken," You smirk, stretching yourself out across Asmo and Simeon. All the pillows in the room have been tossed to the corners of the room courtesy of Asmo, so these two boys' laps would have to suffice for your slumber. "That's why we don't have any stupid blood oaths to bind ourselves to them. Humans need sleep, hm?" Your words tumble out in more of a mumble than anything else, and you can feel the smile on Simeon's and Asmo's faces as they watch you drift off in their laps.

Vaguely, you hear them continue to talk. For how long? You can't be sure. But by the end of the hour, the room is dark and silent once more, the three of you separated only by the thin veil of dreams.

***

"I'm sorry, Diavolo," Lucifer mumbles in a huff, crossing his arms. The demon is worked up, Diavolo can tell, but he's unsure of how to comfort his friend so he simply lets Lucifer continue to rant. "All three of them were down on time these past three days, so I just assumed that they'd wake up on their own today as well."

"Do not fret, Lucifer!" Diavolo exclaims with a pleasant grin. His walk is brisk as he makes his way to the room where he knows you, Asmo, and Simeon are to be staying in, and he's almost excited to hear what excuse the three of you will throw his way.

In fact, that's the one thing he loves about the members of the House of Lamentations.

The seven brothers are each exotic in their own way, only Lucifer being responsible enough to give him full honesty and transparency. The other six are reliable, no doubt, but their methods are always entertaining.

Diavolo opens the door with a master key, entering the room with Lucifer hot on his heels. But the sight that greets him is beyond strange.

"What did they do?" Lucifer asks. Diavolo can sense his anger, and a small part of it finds it amusing. Truly. Lucifer's anger exists for my lack thereof.

He glances around the room, wondering how much time it took to do all this tampering. Every single blanket in the room has been stripped off the bed, likely stuffed inside the large dome-like structure (which, in turn, is also made of blankets) in the center of the room.

"Why, they've created their own castle in my castle," Diavolo jokes, pulling back the makeshift curtain that forms the entrance. He's about to enter when his eyes catch sight of the three people he's been looking for.

Next to him, Lucifer's breath catches in his throat.

For the first time in four hundred years, both men are stunned into silence.

All three of you are sleeping on top of one another, the first union Diavolo has ever seen of the human world, Celestial Realm, and Devildom.

"What are they..." Lucifer mumbles, but Diavolo places a quick finger to his lips. He doesn't want to disturb this.

His eyes skit over the three of you, taking in the image so that he can perhaps describe it to a demon painter. It's...truly inspiring.

For the first time, demon and angel are slumbering together in peace, with both Simeon and Asmodeus sleeping in upright seating positions. Their backs are pressed against the bed, and while Simeon rests his head against the pillar in what seems like a somewhat uncomfortable position, Asmo has made himself cozy, resting his head delicately on Simeon's shoulder with a hand wrapped around the angel's muscular arm.

You, on the other hand, must have been reluctant to sleep sitting up. You lie on the floor, lower body stretched out with Simeon's white cloak draped across your legs, upper body thrown across Asmo's lap. Your head rests on Simeon's upper thigh, arms wrapped around his waist while you bury your head in his stomach in what looks like an awfully human, childlike pose.

And the two men both have their arms resting on your body, one of Simeon's gloved hands nestled in your (h/c) locks with Asmo's free arm tossed over your body in a quiet pull to get you closer to him.

It's a sleepover of the ages: the first of its kind in thousands of years.

All of you rest with smiles on your faces, and the way Diavolo's face brightens up at the sight of you is enough for anyone to know that this is what he's been seeking in his journey to unite the three realms.

The future ruler of the Devildom pulls Lucifer out of the room, giving the younger demon no chance to disturb the three of you in what Diavolo hopes is the first of many more nights of happiness and union.

I'll extend the retreat even longer! He thinks joyously, a grin spreading across his features as he recalls the sight of the three of you once more.

It's the first time that a demon, an angel, and a human have all been so content with one another. The first time that a demon, an angel, and a human have been comfortable with each other enough to sleep without any protections. The first time that a demon, an angel, and a human have placed enough trust in each other to slumber so vulnerably.

Diavolo grins.

His plan to unite the three great realms of the world has finally begun to piece together.

The content, trusting smiles on your faces as you, Simeon, and Asmodeus slumber are Diavolo's testimony to that fact.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 5.1k

Notes: If you guys are interested, I might consider adding a second chapter that's a bit more adult, but for now ill leave this as just some wholesome fluff~ aghhh Simeon is too precious x3 ALSO YEY IVE FINALLY ENTERED THE OBEY ME FANDOM

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I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

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pochiperpe90 · 4 years

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Interview with the director of “They Call Me Jeeg”

Interview with director Gabriele Mainetti about the movie and the Zingaro (Luca Marinelli)

When I think back to “They call me Jeeg” I think of the Zingaro. In your film there is one of the most beautiful villains of Italian cinema of recent years, how was he born?

We wanted to create a villain that wasn't just bad. We wanted to give it a three-dimensionality, complicate it and make it fascinating and original. In my opinion, the Zingaro is a very successful character and much loved by everyone for a specific reason: because they feel him close. He is the victim of what is a bit of a contemporary neurosis, that is, the need to showcase himself. We are now victims of how many likes we get on social networks and how many views does the video we post on YouTube, and he’s interesting because when he was a kid he performed in a singing interpretation on ‘Buona Domenica’ and then he lived what many people did: he become a meteor (it means that his fame lasted very little). But it’s as if he had never accepted it and brought with him this narcissistic attitude, and he wants to become a respected and almost famous criminal, but it makes no sense, because criminals when they become so important have to live in basements, it's not that you can show off, so it's a bit of a nonsense, and that's all the madness of the Zingaro.

It was interesting, because when I met people to do the auditions they all came with - as they say in Rome - 'the nostrils of the nose widened like bulls', as the kind of bad guys who beat you. But the Zingaro is an intelligent, sophisticated character, with a talent, who can sing, elegant, who has his own aesthetic idea, he is beautiful, and therefore I needed someone who would bring me the intelligence of the character, and Marinelli although at beginning was very distant from what you saw on the screen, had made me glimpse this necessary feature.

The stakes were high. It was difficult after seeing Luca Marinelli as Cesare in Claudio Caligari's ‘Don't Be Bad’ to think that in a few months he would be back with another strong character.

I shot a year before ‘Don't be bad’ and this helped him a lot, he always recognizes it when he can. Luca was far from the peripheral element, he is a boy who grew up in a modest family, in the streets with his friends, but still he was in Prati, he wasn’t in San Basilio, in Tor Bella Monaca or Corviale. He has never experienced one of these realities, and this character must have had this reality in his blood here, and the need to redeem himself socially and find the famous 'turning point' of the criminal. I took him, took him to Tor Bella Monaca, we did a lot of tests, it was a very intense job. At the beginning there was a moment of jealousy, not because the ‘Maestro’ had taken him, but because it was released first, but it was right. At one point I said: "What do I care!", Caligari taught me so much with two films - if they say that Caligari has made little cinema, it’s the biggest bullshit that can be said, because in Caligari’s movies there is more of that cinema that in a hundred films of many morons. The fact that he saw this light inside Luca and the fact that I also saw it inside him, means that something works. I love Caligari, I love him as much as I loved ‘Don't be bad’.

I admit I was almost upset when at the press conference at the Quattro Fontane, here in Rome, Marinelli arrived in plain clothes, not dressed as the Zingaro …

He is very shy, very reserved, he’s exactly the opposite of his character. Paradoxically in life Santamaria is the Zingaro, and Enzo is Luca Marinelli …

The nice thing about the Zingaro is that we discover his character and his past little by little, when we think that the character has been defined and yet, not really. I loved his unexpected obsession with Italian singers, four queens of the Eighties: Loredana Bertè, Gianna Nannini, Nada and Anna Oxa …

We actually had an Italian singer in mind but we were unable to involve him, we thought of replacing him with another singer but we continued to find only women and we said to ourselves "but she doesn't have the power of this one", and in the end the idea: "but why don't we take several, as if he was an expert?", and this thing was born a lot with Luca, especially the musical choice, we went there, we evaluated them, we discovered which ones we could use - because you know music always has a cost ... I am a lover of all four singers put in the film, TOTAL, which should probably lead me to question myself about my sexual orientation, right now I continue to heterosexualize everything, but I love them, a lot, and I loved Anna Oxa when I was little, Berté despite now looking like Mickey Rourke is always super, great, she always has a crazy voice.

Since we met the Zingaro, with some of my friends, we greet each other with: «C’è una ragione che cresce in me»

To think that someone posted to me on the Internet: "If I started singing such a shitty song, it means that the film is really beautiful!", and I replied to him: "But how dare you saying that “Un’emozione da poco” is a shitty song, you are a shit!».

What was it like shooting the scene in which Luca Marinelli, in a shady club, sings and dances in a sequined jacket, shirtless, with just a glove, with his hair back, with high-heeled boots and tight pants, the song by Anna Oxa?

Luca did it I think 15 times. In the end, the voice was right, Luca has a very strong voice, he is very resistant, he never loses control. I made him do it a lot of times, because he wanted to make it perfect and I kept following him. I have told it through many fields. We have thought about it a lot.

Look, the Zingaro was a very difficult character. The look, how to throw his hair, how to dress him, how he had to sing, how he had to perform, which tattoos… is the character we have thought about the most. Then if you notice he is clearly a quote from David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, especially in the final part.

Another thing that I liked so much about your film is that there are no good and bad characters. Bad guys are never just bad guys. And it’s precisely the weaknesses of the characters that make them close to us, the Zingaro who sings at the top of his voice “Non sono una signora” in the car with friends as if he was at the stadium, Enzo who eats the usual cream pudding in an atmosphere of extreme desolation in front of the TV, Alessia fixed with a single DVD, a cartoon for children. “They call me Jeeg” is a film about superheroes who are real people, who are so real that at different moments in the film we identified with a different protagonist of the three.

Thank you so much because this thing you say, is not easy. Usually the emotional vehicles are always one or two, three is tough. It all depends on how the writing is set up. The character is the most important thing in the film, because it’s the emotional vehicle of the viewer. In America they had already tried it in some films. Super didn’t have super powers but he was a sort of vigilant who disguised himself and went to do good, he was a loser in an American town who clashes with this boss, microboss of the underworld, and must kill the Evil. The Manichean vision between Good and Evil, which is very American, still makes me laugh.

This attempt to mix what I call the ‘Pasolini element’ with the ‘fantastic element’, which I had already tried in my short films ‘Tiger Boy’ and ‘Basette’, comes naturally to me. You know, I was lucky enough to have done the American school, I was part of the University in New York, my grandmother lived the first years of her life in New Jersey, I have relatives in New Jersey, my sister lives in America, I have a very "happy" relationship with America, the American system is total crazy, but I understand their cinema, and I understand their fictions, and I understand why we digest some things and we don't digest others, I know how we work. For me, the only way to get to the suspension of disbelief was to tell characters that are as real as possible, then hook on to a very strong experience. Because if you are so passionate about him, you can't not believe him when he has super power, but he has to react to super power as anyone would react. They are really well written.

This thing here makes me laugh ... No one has ever focused on this thing. This guy falls from the top floor and runs away! Escape! What the fuck are you running away for? He wasn't hurt but he runs away, he has to run away because he's afraid, he goes back home and if he has to, he can't think about it yet, he doesn't think about it yet, but it's typical of someone who doesn't want to have responsibility. Then when he gets angry that he punches the wall, he still struggles, and when he becomes aware of the fact that he has super powers, since he is a criminal, what does he do? He rob an ATM, to buy more yogurt. That's where the stuff works. If, on the other hand, you made him fall from the top floor and then say: "Damn, I’m so strong!", he would jump again, climb up, smash his head, gut, takes his cocaine, it seemed, you know ... but what are we talking about.

The 80s songs, Buona Domenica, YouTube, superheroes, the Roman suburbs, the Olympic stadium ... the mix of elements that are part of the story of “They call me Jeeg” could be very risky, but the way it’s narrated makes this a winning combination. You tell things you know without judging them.

Exactly. Many kids call me and tell me: «Ah, but how did you do it, but how did you do it», «How it should be done» I replied: «Guys, you should talk about things that concern you!». You have to talk about the things that belong to you, and try to insert them into what the cinematographic genre is, that genre has its codes, if you want to do an even more extreme operation, but I don't recommend it, you have to completely subvert them. But you have to make it work for what you are doing. I am an admirer, for example, of Puglielli's ‘Dorme’, it's a WONDERFUL film; he recounted the frustration of his height, which is actually a shortness. We must start from the things we know, from our frailties. Unfortunately, the American superheroes, especially the Marvel ones, lately, are all plastic. I always ask myself, a question that always arises spontaneously, but how the fuck do they put all that spandex stuff on? How do they get into it? Do they all oil themselves first? It looks like a wetsuit ... I find it really ridiculous. In fact, it's not that I don't like superhero movies, I like Batman, because he still has a great internal conflict and everything, but here I need characters with great fragility. My favorite superhero movie is The Guardians of the Galaxy, because I know five ramshackle people who have the responsibility of saving the world. And they manage to do it, how? Because they establish a true relationship between them, which is that of friendship, and realizing that they love each other, they understand that they can also love others and say to each other "Oh well, let's save these assholes", it's fantastic, it's fantastic, it's beautiful. I can empathize with them. Certainly with Superman I can’t, I can’t succeed.

In the days I watched “They call me Jeeg” I had arrived at the third episode of Jessica Jones, the Netflix series in which the protagonist takes the opposite path of Enzo, from superheroine to 'normal' person, investigator with somewhat special powers. What do you think of recent series or movies that have a superhero at the center?

I saw the first two episodes but it bored me a bit. Deadpool is just the answer to this clean cinema, with him farting, getting sodomized by his partner and he's nice, but he didn't convince me too much, because he is in reaction to the plastic of these super heroes, and therefore he mocks everyone. But I don't give a damn about that either. I want the story of a person, I want the story of a character, that's the thing that excites me. I saw Daredevil and I didn't mind, it wasn't bad.

The background of Rome in “They Call Me Jeeg” is an important component. Are there any Italian films set in recent years, in the capital, that you care most about? I think of Romanzo Criminale, The great beauty, Don't be bad, Suburra.

They are very different films. Sorrentino has such a unique look that one cannot fail to recognize it. Formally it’s indisputable. Sometimes, from a content point of view, there are some things that I probably can't grasp, and I don't know if it's my limit; I like to get excited, the staging excites me, but I don't know, I love ‘La dolce vita’, I love Fellini, I love ‘Otto e mezzo’, that distorted and grotesque vision that he had ... but there is no comparison, that would be nonsense.

“Don’t be bad” is certainly the one that excited me the most. Who wants to make a certain type of cinema, social cinema, committed cinema, should study this ability of Caligari (but how much has he been criticized? Because yes, "Masterpiece" and that and that, but everyone criticizes a lot of it, because they are infamous ‘rosiconi’ → jealous people in the Roman dialect). What Caligari teaches is that he puts you next to a character with extreme problems but makes him feel like a friend, makes you understand that he is like you and allows you to identify. He has a deep friendship which is that between Cesare and Vittorio, he has a love story, the character of Cesare, as well as that of Vittorio, even the drug itself is experienced as fun at the beginning, as a sort of pact of love between the two of them, then you understand many things, that is something that is a great lesson in cinema, it’s a lesson in profound cinema, of cinema that interests me, cinema that excites you.

Romanzo Criminale is a very successful genre operation, which has highlighted the possibility of tackling the genre when it was thought to be banned; when I had this subject in 2010 I used to shoot like a jerk for all the productions and they said to me that: "Don't have to do this thing, because it doesn't make sense, genre cinema isn’t liked in Italy, it doesn't work, it's a waste of time, among other things, we don't have the skills to organize it», and instead Romanzo Criminale, then the series, then Gomorra the series, Suburra, now they make Suburra the series, is telling the opposite. Fortunately there is a Romanzo Criminale, fortunately there is ‘The Great Beauty’ who won the Oscar, fortunately there is ‘Don't be bad’.

DUDEMAG

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)

#Luca Marinelli #gabriele mainetti #they call me jeeg #lo chiamavano jeeg robot #interview #english #english translation #mine #lo zingaro #old interview #don't be bad #non essere cattivo

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scarlettroubles · 4 years

Text

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS

thank you for tagging me @cursebreakerfarrier

tagging @hogwartsmystory @neonbluewaves @rosievixen and @hphm-brooke sorry if u guys already got tagged and no pressure to do these if you don’t want to!

Eileen Ryder

Finnegan Bradigan

Augustus Hawthorne

#eileen ryder #finnegan bradigan #augustus hawthorne #hphm mc #hphm #hogwarts mystery mc #harry potter hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery #tag game

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missfay49 · 4 years

Text

Just Speak

Summary: Janus and Remus being domestic. Well, as domestic as they can be.

Warnings: body horror, space, aliens, suggestive content, food, poison mention, venom mention, talk of medical procedures

Word Count: ~2060

AO3

Down Time

“Say it. Say it, pleeeaze? Please, please, please, please-”

Remus is crouching in front of the kitchen table, only the top of his head and his fingertips visible from where he’s gripping the edge. His eyes are wide and teeth bared.

Janus is sitting across from him, elbows on the table, face in his hands, staring at Remus through his fingers. He looks tired and more than a little disturbed.

“Remus, honestly? I don’t know if I can take another one. Do I enjoy a good philosophical debate now and then? Yes. That’s not this. You’re trying to destroy me!” He squints and sits up, lowering his arms. “It’s rude.”

“Hee! Last one, I prom-ise.” Remus rolls the ‘r’ and jumps from his crouch onto the table. By the time he lands, he’s an eight-legged Boston Terrier, bouncing and giving Janus authentic puppy eyes - several of them.

Janus releases a shuddering sigh of defeat.

“Fine,” he mutters through gritted teeth, a thousand-yard stare overtaking him.

“Pinky,” he asks. “Are you pondering... what I’m pondering?”

Terrier-Remus erupts into a full-grown side again, standing on top of the table. Janus leans back, looking up at him and grimacing.

“YES!” He cackles in triumph, then pauses, confused. “I mean, no!” He smirks again.

“Unless, of course, you are also pondering the expansion of the universe and its correlation to black holes, because if matter disappears into the black holes of our universe, yet we continue to grow, then that implies not only that pocket universes are forming on the other side of those black holes, but that our own universe is also a pocket dimension formed on the other side of a black hole we cannot see - in a universe above our own - supplying our universe with matter at such a rate that we cannot lose it fast enough?! And are you further pondering whether life first formed in our universe or the one above ours, and if it formed there first, does that mean that they put us here on purpose? Are they watching us? Are we just an experiment to them, CURSED,” he screeched. “-to struggle for the sick curiosity of an ancestral yet alien race that may decide to terminate us at any moment?!”

Remus stands over him, hands clutching the air, panting at the end of his monologue. Janus stares up at him, mouth agape. Logan laughs.

Logan?

Janus turns slowly, reluctant to take his eyes off the spectacle before him. Logan is sitting cross-legged on the couch behind them, apparently having watched the whole thing.

“Hilarious.” He puts a hand to his chin. “The odds of Janus pondering that exact same thing at the same time are preposterous. Excellent joke, Remus.”

“Spaghetti!”

“That was not a joke - it was an existential crisis!” Janus yells at the both of them.

“I am not sure why it should cause any distress.” Logan says evenly. “While it is technically possible for that scenario to be true, it is not more true now than it was before you were aware of it. And there is literally nothing we can do about it, given our species’ current technological progress.”

While Logan speaks, Remus climbs down, sits at the table, and conjures a plateful of piano wire covered in marinara. He’s spinning a fork into the mess, nodding sagely all the while. Janus watches him take a crunchy bite.

“This is why Virgil left, you know.” Janus simpers, summoning a glass of… soup.

“Oh, boo, Janny.” Remus speaks out of a second mouth he’s just added to his shoulder. It’s grin belies something sinister. “He left for much worse reasons than that!”

Janus sighs into his wine. Logan walks over to join them at the table, summoning a notepad and pencil.

“Remus, could you describe what is happening to your teeth right now? I’m curious.”

“Absolutely!”

On a Mission

“Remus? Darling, where are you?” Janus calls from the kitchen. A shape appears to the side, just catching the corner of his eye. Remus is inexplicably soaking wet.

“Ah, there you are.” Janus claps his hands together. “Remus, dear, did you place this giant terrarium here just off the kitchen?” Remus peers into a thick jungle sprouting out where the oven used to be.

“Sounds like me, but I don’t remember. Are there dangerous creatures in it?”

“If the shrieks are any indication, undoubtedly.”

“Then, yes!” Remus shimmies, shaking off the water. Janus admires the spray, smiling.

“That’s exactly what I wanted, thank you. Come along, now, we’ve got specimens to collect.” With a flourish, Janus twirls around and strides into the foliage. Remus snaps his fingers, donning a stained and battered explorer’s outfit, equally as wet as before, and leaps in after him shouting something about ‘smashing!’.

Working Late

Remus tiptoes down the hallway, leaving a trail of flour-based footprints behind him. He’s dusted halfway up his shins with the stuff. He slows and stops when he sees the light still on under his target’s doorway. Janus is usually asleep by now. He twists the knob, willing the hinges to squeal with their utmost spooky capacity.

The bed is empty and neatly made. Janus is at his desk instead, cape and hat hanging off the back of the chair. His gloves are nowhere to be seen. There’s a pen still upright in his hand, but his head rests on his arm and he’s fast asleep. Even the noise doesn’t stir him.

Looming over his shoulder, Remus examines what was keeping him up so late. Small stoppered vials full of pale liquids are lined up in a specially-made wooden crate. Latex gloves, wash cloths, and a mask are discarded atop a metal tray. A pair of safety goggles are resting on Janus’ head.

Half the vials are affixed with permanent labels in a clean handwritten script. The rest just have sticky notes and scribbled words.

Taxine alkaloids, Taxus brevifolia

Abrus precatorius

“Oo hoo hoooo!” Remus claps excitedly as black tentacles tear through his clothing. They wrap around Janus and lift him from the chair with surprising grace. Janus only startles for a moment, settling back down when he recognizes the feel of the limbs surrounding him.

“I’m nearly finished,” he murmurs. Remus just presses him down into the bed, tendrils pulling down the blankets. As the tentacles pull away, Janus shivers; nothing but his boxer briefs remain on him, the rest having vanished somewhere between the bed and the desk. He pulls the blankets up tight as Remus perches on the footboard. The tentacles are slowly slurping back into his body.

“Prenez une petite mort. Your nightmares are more interesting when you get more sleep.” Remus grins wide, revealing rows of shiny, dagger-like teeth. A tentacle passes by the desklamp and hits the switch. In the darkness, he sounds ravenous.

“Don’t worry. I’ll stay right by your side…”

“Fine. Goodnight, Remus.”

Janus sleeps soundly knowing nothing will get past his bodyguard tonight.

Almost Ready

“What scent should I use?” Remus has brought three different perfume bottles for Janus to choose from. “Ozone, battery acid, or meat?”

“Oo, tough call...” Janus deadpans, focusing on tying a bow onto the crate just so. “Sure you don’t have bloody mouse-y with a dash of hot sauce?” He slaps a hand over his own mouth when he realizes what he’s said.

“A classic! You got it, Santa-snakey.” Remus snaps his fingers. The first three bottles vanish, and a fourth appears. It’s filled with a thick, bright red paste.

“For the love of Liza Minnelli, do not spray that in here.”

The Gift

Logan sits unsuspecting in the living room having a cup of tea and reading an article about Maria Skłodowska-Curie on his phone. The dark duo appear out of thin air on either side of him, the rustle and movement of the couch his only clues, except… Logan puts his tea down.

“Remus, what is that smell?”

“Best not to think about it too hard,” Janus interjects. “Here.”

Janus holds a hand out before Logan, a mysterious shape underneath a black cloth. He flings the cloth away dramatically to reveal a present wrapped in gold-foil paper and a black silk ribbon. Logan blinks at the surprise.

“This wrapping is quite aesthetically pleas- oof!”

Remus drops a ten-pound box in Logan’s lap, knocking his phone to the ground. Janus deftly moves his gift out of the way. The box is wrapped in yesterday’s paper and tied in a series of reef knots. The top facing article features the latest alligator attack suffered by yet another “Florida Man”.

“Thanks!” Logan squeaks out. “I will just open this first, if you don’t mind, Janus?” The other side nods.

Logan carefully unties the knots and opens the box - the cake box. Because inside is a pale blue frosted cake with rock candy cutting through the side.

“It is beautiful. Is it meant to resemble blue agate?” Logan carefully lifts the cake out of the box and places it on the table.

“It’s meant to resemble a vagina! It’s a vageode cake! I made it last night.”

“Is this another reference I need to learn?” Logan asks them both, but Janus just shrugs while Remus pokes holes in the cake and laughs.

“Mine next,” Janus reminds him.

“Ah, yes.” Logan accepts the gold package Janus hands him and undoes the bow with one pull. Underneath the foil is a smooth wooden crate holding eight vials.

“Oh! ‘Nerium oleander’. ‘Atropa belladonna’.” Logan starts reading off the labels. “Poisons?”

“And venoms-s-s.” Janus says low. “So you can help Thomas’ competitors- I mean, his fellow actors, take a well deserved break. Or, you know, develop life-saving antivenoms, or whatever. Your choice.”

“Thank you? I am not going to poison Thomas’ colleagues.”

“You can test them on me!” Remus winks at him.

“Surely that won’t be necessary. Although, testing does provide a lot of data.” Logan looks thoughtful for a moment. “Say, do you think- wait, no, that’s unethical.”

“Who cares about ethics, you’re not a doctor! Tell me tell me!” Remus bounces on the cushion, making a horrible sucking sound with each rebound.

“Well, I would need to do some research first. Is it still considered an autopsy if the patient is alive?” Logan picks his phone off the ground and starts opening tabs.

“Wait!” He stops himself. “I’ve got your gifts upstairs. I didn’t know when you would be popping in. I’ll be right back.”

Logan leaves the two sitting on the couch. Janus preens.

“Another highly successful encounter. Do you think he’s caught on to our devious plan, yet?” He smirks at Remus.

“Definitely not. What was the plan again?”

Janus tsks.

“Our very evil plan to befriend the nerd under the guise of traditional holiday celebrations, reconcile all the sides with his help, and thereby help Thomas achieve self-actualization? You know, the ultimate plan?” He squints at Remus. “Did we not go over the plan?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Then why did you make that cake?”

“Cause we harvested all those poisons and I wanted to try my hand at creating a vagina!” Remus tears a chunk of cake off and starts to eat it. Blueberry filling starts to pour out.

“You know they’re not blue, right?”

“Maybe not the ones you’ve seen.” Crumbs are falling everywhere. Janus withholds any more questions to prevent a bigger mess and texts a warning to Logan not to eat the poisoned cake.

At that moment, the front door swings open. The pair on the couch freeze. Roman and Virgil start loudly carrying in armfuls of groceries, complaining about the lack of snow.

“Patton, we’re back!”

Footsteps upstairs are rapidly approaching. Janus nods to Remus.

“That’s our cue.” They stand up as one.

“Hey!” Virgil shouts. “What are you two doing here?!”

“Villains! We’re being invaded by villains!” Roman cries out, rushing into the living room.

“Now, Remus!” Janus drops out of sight with a swirl of his cape just in time to avoid the explosion of glitter as Remus’ form erupts like a balloon.

When Patton comes downstairs, Roman is standing in the middle of the room spitting out neon green glitter with his sword drawn, and Virgil is ranting about perimeter security and motion detectors, floor sensors and alarms.

Logan comes down a moment later carrying two gift bags.

“Hm.” His phone buzzes.

The cake is a lie.

Come visit anytime.

@sanderssidesgiftxchange @on-and-on-we-go-forever

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samshogwarts · 4 years

Text

Olympian Aesthetics Challenge

First of all: Thank you @cursebreakerfarrier and @morningstarinwinter for tagging me. And sorry it took so long to answer it >\\\\<

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm mc #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts game #hphm jacobs sibling #hogwarts mystery mc #harry potter oc #samantha o'connell #Tag game #Hphm tag game #Tagging game #Thank you for sti tagging me guys #I know I am kind of inactive right now #But this will change soon #The Follower special simply become to big #XD #But now I don't want to go back #Already made 50+illustrations

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doing-all-write · 5 years

Text

i’m open

The one in which reader goes to Ben’s soccer game. Fluff and romance ABOUNDS.

Warning: mentions of sex and swearing. And major fluff. Like, so much fluff this thing is made of cotton candy and unicorn wishes.

It’s been so beautiful here and I was watching soccer on tv and really wishing for a soccer playing boyfriend and this is what happened. Hope you enjoy!

Comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

"I'M OPEN!"

Ben's eyes briefly flicked away from the ball as he heard his teammate, Tim, yell. He brought his foot back and kicked the ball as hard as he could toward him.

Tim kept running, keeping the ball caged within his feet the whole time. Keeping an eye on him, Ben, the rest of the players on the field and the whole audience, watched, with bated breath as Tim kicked it toward the goal.

The goalie's thighs tensed and uncoiled as they pushed themselves toward the right, hands splayed trying to prevent the ball from getting into the net.

Time seemed to slow down as the ball sailed over the goalies hands, he could feel the ball brush past his fingertips as it slipped over them and landed against the netting of the goal as he collapsed on the ground, head hung, as cheers erupted.

"YEAH!" Ben threw his arms into the air as he raced over to join the giant dog pile that was getting dangerously close to crushing Tim beneath their excitement.

The bleachers shook under her feet as she jumped up and down, clapping and yelling. She laughed as she watched Ben fling his body on top of the dog pile. She tilted her head up and was greeted by October sunshine that seemed especially brilliant against the cloudless blue sky and the celebration happening around her.

The sun had done nothing to warm her though, the wind buffeting around her and the other spectators doing everything it could to whisk away any bit of warmth the sun might offer. But after moving around she felt herself warming up and judging by the players on the field un-sticking jerseys from bodies, they had worked up a sweat despite the cooler temperature.

She blew on her fingertips, exposed to the chill in the air because of her finger-less gloves, which she knew Ben would give her endless shit for when he saw them. ("Wouldn't it make more sense to buy gloves that actually covered your whole hand, love?" "It's not about staying warm, it's about the aesthetic" "Well quit trying to warm up your aesthetically pleasing fingers on my sides")

Biting back a smile, she accepted praise from the other significant others and family members that lined the side of the pitch every weekend to watch the team play. As she hugged Tim's boyfriend, she saw out of the corner of her eye Ben's team finally disentangling themselves from each other to shake hands with the defeated team.

She loved the community the sidelines had built. When she first showed up, she was worried it would be difficult to get to know the others, but everyone was incredibly welcoming and the atmosphere was always cheerful, even when the team was losing. A couple times, she had brought pom-poms to pass out to willing individuals and they shook them and came up with silly cheers to keep spirits high.

Her eyes tracked Ben as he made his way down the line of players. Even from a distance, she could tell that Ben was feeling immensely proud of himself. He was doing his best to be gracious but from the swagger of his step she could tell he was in the same mood as when they emerged from a bar bathroom after hooking up; cocky and failing to hide it.

As Tim's boyfriend (Kyle she remembered a second too late was his name) talked ad nauseum about how Tim had turned leg day into leg week just in case this exact situation were to happen, she just nodded and made noises of agreement in all the right places but was mainly focused on looking at Ben.

As Kyle gave her one final hug and bounded down the bleachers to go congratulate his boyfriend, she saw Ben, talking to another player who was wildly gesticulating as they recounted a particularly epic shot they had. She saw his blue eyes darting around every now and again. He was nodding and to any other individual it would seem he was listening intently. But she knew better. She knew he was looking for her.

She raised her hand and waved to grab his attention. His eyes locked onto the movement and a smile broke across his face, like the sun appearing from behind clouds.

Without any explanation to the teammate he was talking to, he slapped them on the shoulder and jogged over to where she was, leaving them dumbfounded that someone could leave in the middle of such a great story.

Her smile grew bigger as she carefully stepped down from her spot on the bleachers to meet him. She landed on the last metallic step before the ground and looked up to find herself eye level with Ben's gaze.

"Hello, beautiful." He smiled even wider as her pink cheeks grew even pinker at the compliment.

"Hi, yourself." She muttered back as she found herself smiling wider at the flushed boy before her.

"So? What did you think?" He asked as he held out his hands, palms up to her. She glanced down and laid her own hands on top of his as she giggled,

"It was the best soccer game I've ever been to."

Ben rolled his eyes, "It's football. Honestly. You'd think you'd have learned that by now."

Her mouth dropped open in mock outrage, "Hey! I am trying my best here! You're lucky I even showed up at all!"

Ben chuckled as he cupped her cheek with his palm, "You're right. I'm a lucky bastard to have my beautiful girlfriend come support me on the football pitch." He placed extra emphasis on the last two words, his eyes dancing with mirth as she bit a laugh back.

"I'll forgive you this once for being a dick-sorry a prick- because you told me I'm beautiful."

"Oh so you can't remember the correct term for football but the correct term for dick you've got that one down cold, huh?" He reached a hand down to tickle her side as she laughed and tried to squirm away from him.

"I have way more reason to use prick than I do football! Stop tickling me!" She whined as she tried to get away from Ben's fingers.

Ben just chuckled and grabbed onto her waist firmly, "That's no way to speak to someone who just scored a game winning goal."

She widened her eyes innocently, "Well, technically you didn't score the game winning goal, Tim did."

Ben arched an eyebrow at her, "I'm going to start tickling you again if you don't take that back right this second."

She pouted, "Why are you so mean?"

Ben reached a finger up and tapped her bottom lip, "You know when you do that I just want to kiss you more, is that why you do it?"

Her face flushed crimson as she pulled her chin down and gazed at her feet, encased in the combat boots she had been wearing for the past three winters. Ben always made fun of her when she wore them because he could hear her coming from a mile away. They were heavy and made a satisfying stomping noise with each step. She had primly replied that she wore them so people would know not to mess with her because she was so tough.

(At which point Ben had looked her up and down and pointed out that a woman wearing a shirt with Smokey the Bear on it probably wouldn't intimidate anyone but forest fires. She had walked away with her middle finger held high.)

"Maybe" she muttered as she peeked up at Ben through her eyelashes. His eyes sparkled as he gently tipped her chin up and laid a gentle kiss on her lips.

As he pulled away, they were both beaming at each other, enjoying the late autumn sun and each other's presence when a piercing voice cut through the moment,

"OI! Get a room you two lovesick idiots!" Tim cracked as he gave Ben's shoulder a shove as he jogged past, holding Kyle's hand.

She clapped her hands over her face as her shoulders shook with laughter and Ben cheerfully flipped Tim off and yelled, "Fuck you too, you insufferable bugger!"

Tim laughed and waved at both of them as he and Kyle jogged to their car.

She peeked at Ben through her fingers, "Why are your friends so embarrassing?"

Ben laughed and threaded his arms around her waist, "Not sure, love. But at least they always keep us on our toes, right?" He kissed the tip of her nose as she put her hands on his chest,

"Ugh, keep your distance Jonesy. You're a sweaty boy." She wrinkled her nose at him as he smirked at her.

"You really shouldn't have said anything" he said as he pulled her flush against his body as she shrieked with laughter, "BEN! Put me DOWN!"

He laughed as he lifted her up and spun her around as she flung her head back and laughed. He gently set her back down on the ground as he squeezed his arms tighter around her waist, "Alright, I put you down. But I'm still going to get as much sweat as possible on you."

She squirmed against him as she tried her best to disentangle herself from his embrace, "This sucks Ben, how dare you be so strong and muscular?" She wheezed as she pushed against the brick wall that was his chest.

She finally huffed out a breath and went limp as Ben did everything possible to rub as much of his sweat off on her, "Usually your muscles are a huge turn on but right now I kind of hate them?"

Ben stilled and stared down at her incredulously, "You can't possibly mean that?"

She rolled her eyes, "Of course not. I just wanted to distract you." She pushed away from Ben and took a few steps away from him, shaking herself off in a futile attempt to try to rid herself of the smell of sweaty man.

"How can you be so hot but smell so terrible?"

Ben pointed a menacing finger at her, "Think very carefully before insulting me again. I'll rub your face in my armpit."

She gasped, "You wouldn't."

Ben shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't but do you really want to take that chance?"

She crossed her arms and mumbled, "I guess not." She looked up into Ben's eyes and couldn't help the smile taking over her face. She looked around and noticed the whole team had cleared out. It was only her, Ben and a few families taking their kids to the playground for one final play session outside before snow and ice covered everything.

Ben studied her. Her silhouette illuminated by the autumn sun shining down, the leaves falling around her, he was struck with the same realization he had whenever he got a chance to look at her; he was incredibly in love with her.

Her eyes slid over to meet Ben's and saw him studying her, arms crossed over his chest. His gaze was intense and caused heat to build in her core as she glanced down and saw the soccer ball next to her boot. She rested her foot on it and glanced at Ben, "Teach me how to play?"

He shook himself from his thoughts, "What? Teach you how to play football?"

She nodded as she looked at him shyly. His face lit up, "Alrigh', yeah. Of course, love." He walked closer to her as she brushed a piece of hair out of her face,

"Well, I figure who better to learn soccer from than the professional who just scored." She teased and he stopped in front of her, holding up one finger,

"FIRST LESSON. It's called football. NOT soccer."

She giggled as she held up three fingers, "Yes, sir."

Ben's eyes flashed as he bent down to whisper in her ear, "Save that for later." He pulled back to see her eyes wide with shock as he winked at her and kicked the ball out from underneath her boot.

He considered himself to be a good boyfriend for only laughing a little bit when she stumbled and had to catch herself before falling into the grass.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "You prick."

"SECOND RULE. Never trust your opponent. Especially when they're as talented as I am." He called over his shoulder as he easily dribbled the ball down the pitch toward the goal as she gawked at him in disbelief.

"HEY!" She yelled in indignation as she took off after him, cursing her clunky boots and shedding the scarf that kept blowing into her face.

Ben laughed as he quickly kicked the ball into the net and turned to face her, cheering all the while as she ran straight into him. Her hair getting tangled and flying into Ben's face, her beanie having flown off in her mad dash to get him, as he made an "OOF" sound and stumbled back a few steps.

"Not fair!" She wailed as she tried to get around Ben and get the ball out of the net as Ben chuckled and grabbed her hand,

"All's fair in love and football, love." And spun her around so he could plant a loud kiss on her forehead as she yanked her arm away from him.

She scurried around him, grabbed the ball with her hands and, carrying it like a football player carrying a ball to the end zone, sprinted towards the goal on the other side of the field.

It took Ben's brain a good three seconds to comprehend what she had done and then for mock outrage to kick in as he heard her giggles getting quieter as she got farther away from him.

His months of practice and training kicked in and he took off like a shot after her.

She was so far ahead, and rather pleased with herself for what she had accomplished. She had tricked Ben, gotten a kiss and now she would score against him as well.

That was when she realized Ben had been unusually quiet.

She risked a glance behind her and saw all five feet ten inches of pure muscle. competitive, high on adrenaline, boyfriend coming straight at her like a freight train.

If Ben hadn't been so focused on getting the ball from her he would have been on the ground, dying with laughter over how quickly her face dropped when she saw him closing in behind her.

A quick calculation and she put on a burst of fresh speed to get to the goal before her boyfriend tackled her. The one other time he had tackled her was when they had been playing touch football with some of their friends one time and they both had gotten a bit too competitive.

After having him apply ice pouches all over her body and give her full body massages (which always led to sex) for a full month, she had just now started to forgive him. She hated to see that streak ruined but, as Ben had just put it, all's fair in love and football.

"You're mine." The growl that came from Ben's mouth had her stomach clenching in a delightful way and she finally understood the meaning of being scared and horny.

She could hear his breath coming out in sharp pants as he put on a final burst of speed to clear the gap between them. She gripped the ball tighter and urged her boot clad feet to move even faster.

The jangling of the metal bits got more frantic as she pushed her body even harder, gasping as she tried to fill her lungs with more air so she could get to the net before Ben could grab her.

She felt the ghost of Ben's fingertips graze her sides as she launched herself into the net headfirst, deciding on a whim that getting the ball into the net was way more important than her physical well-being.

Ben's eyes widened as he felt, rather than saw, her body move farther away from him as she launched herself, and the ball, into the net. Securing a goal for herself as Ben tried to stop before he landed on her.

The ball made impact with her chest and her first thought was, sorry boobs, knowing that they would be sore tomorrow as she hit the ground, bits of grass flying up as she laid there. Catching her breath, she rolled over onto her back to gloat at Ben.

Only to be greeted by Ben's massive form getting ready to land on her since he tried to stop too quickly, had tripped over his own feet and was trying to catch himself.

She squeaked, rolling onto her side, rounding her body around the ball in her arms to try to protect herself and her prize. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for Ben's form to fall on top of her.

When a couple seconds had passed and she hadn't been crushed by her boyfriend's muscles, she cracked one eye open carefully.

Ben laughed as he saw her eye opening up, roving around, trying to figure out where he had gone.

He shifted his hands so they would be further apart on either side of her body and lowered down into a push up to place a kiss on her cheek before pushing himself back up as she smiled and opened her eye wider.

Ben had managed to catch himself before he squashed her by placing his hands on either side of her body, his own body hovering atop hers as she rolled onto her back, smiling,

"That's a goal, I believe Mr. Jones." Ben couldn't help the smile that spread across his face whenever she called him by his "old" last name as he had begun to think of it.

She smiled back and playfully wagged the ball in his face. He scoffed and hit the ball out of her hands as he pushed himself up to standing.

"Hey! That's the game winning ball!" She protested as she scrambled up to grab it as Ben brushed his palms off on his shorts. As she bent down to pick it up, Ben took the opportunity to yell, "Nice ass" to which she promptly wiggled her butt at him as she performed an exaggerated bend and snap move.

"You do realize that even though you were joking around, that was still incredibly sexy, right?" Ben asked as he moved to stand in front of her, tucking her hair behind her ear. She blushed and shuffled her feet back and forth, avoiding Ben's gaze as she became overwhelmed by his direct stare.

Bending down, Ben met her gaze, "Hey, don't be embarrassed, it's a good thing. I meant every word."

A small smile ghosted across her lips as she nodded and shuffled closer to him so she could wrap her arms around his waist. Ben smiled, "Thought that I was too sweaty to be this close to you?"

"Shut up" came the muffled reply as she snuggled deeper into his arms as a particularly chilly breeze cut through their clothes.

The crisp blue sky unfurled before them as the leaves rattled from the autumn wind dancing around them. Ben shivered as her eyes tracked the movement of the leaves as they rained down around them. Covering them in yellow and red confetti as the smell of dirt and decay filled their nostrils as they both took a deep breath in.

"Hey"

Ben smiled, "Hello"

"Want to go home? You smell."

"Oh I smell huh? I think you smell worse than me at this point."

She reeled her head back in shock, "Me? That's only because you rubbed your boy stink on me!"

Ben's nose wrinkled, "Can you please never call it boy stink ever again? That's so distressing."

She sighed, "You have so many rules about what words I can and can't use it's really harshing my groove."

Ben chuckled, "I'm sorry my love. You're dating a picky man, what can I tell you? Words mean things."

"I know but first soccer and now boy stink, I mean, you've left me with nothing. I'm a shell of a woman." She sighed as she pretended to swoon into his arms.

Ben quickly caught her and pulled her closer to his frame, "You have to stop pretending to faint. I've already dropped you, like, three times in the past month alone."

"I know. And each time wounded me more."

"Love, I can't always catch you when you decide to fall-"

She gasped, "Each of those are trust falls and each one you miss my trust in you lessens-" Her sentence was cut off as Ben grasped her shoulders, his face the most serious it had ever looked;

"Please, never joke about that. I know you were just joking but even the thought of you not trusting me-I don't even want to think about it." She looked into his eyes and saw they were shining with tears. She cupped his face with both of her hands and nodded emphatically, "Of course sweetheart. I trust you with my life, Benjamin. You know that. And there's nothing you can do to break that trust."

Ben nodded and pulled her back into his arms for a hug. "Well, that's enough emotional shit for one day." he said brusquely, clearing his throat. She nodded as she tried to say something back but her voice was muffled by Ben's jersey.

"What was that, love?"

She pulled her face away, "Can we go home? I can't feel my fingertips."

"If you bought gloves that ACTUALLY covered your whole hand this wouldn't be an issue!"

"And how many times do I need to remind you Benjamin that I have an aesthetic to keep up!"

Ben scoffed, "It'll be hard to keep up your aesthetic when you have no fingers left."

"And harder to give hand jobs"

"WHAT."

She blinked up at him innocently, "Nothing! Let's go home. I'll make you hot chocolate." She beamed at him and fluttered her eyelashes in what she hoped was a becoming manner.

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, "Alright. You've distracted me enough with the promise of hot chocolate. Let's go home."

She laughed and threaded her fingers through his, pulling him toward her car so they could go home together when Ben yelped pulling her to a stop,

"Jesus, love! Your fingertips really are freezing!"

She rolled her eyes, "Did you think I was lying?"

"Well, you are prone to great exaggeration-"

"Fuck you and the hot chocolate I was going to make you then."

"Just kidding baby. I love you so much, have I told you how pretty you are?"

She laughed as she pressed her fingers onto Ben's cheeks as he hissed and screwed up his face, "You're lucky you're so cute."

"And I'm lucky you love me so much." He replied softly.

She gently kissed him and they found themselves back in the same position they had been in when the game had ended. Standing on an empty pitch, not even noticing they were alone.

Because how could they be alone when they had the whole world right in front of them?

#ben hardy #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy one shots #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy imagine #ben jones fluff #ben jones oneshot #ben jones fanfic #soccer #soccer!ben hardy #soft!ben hardy #i just want soft athletic ben to be my bf is that too much to ask #ben hardy x reader #ben jones x reader #im open

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claiirvoyantjedi · 4 years

Text

olympian aesthetics

Tagged: Stole it Tagging: @paragcne, @admiraltarkin, @fshto, @fhett, @archaeotech and anyone who wants to do it can consider themselves tagged by me.

bold the aesthetic that applies to your muse. italicize what can sometimes apply to your muse. Repost, do not reblog.

APHRODITE laughter loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold.neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.

ARES armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger .armor that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colors. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

DEMETER soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

HERA resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

HERMES devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore.stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever-changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle.compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. un-natural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lenny face. nightmare-filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high-rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

#;;Aesthetic #;;meme #so mostly athena but like no hera

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shirokodomo · 4 years

Text

GREEK GOD AESTHETICS :

APHRODITE. laughter-loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO. glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonder wall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paintbrushes. probably has a tinder account.

ARES. armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

ATHENA. discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armor that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colours. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

DEMETER. soil-covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

ARTEMIS. keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted-up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

HERA. resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

DIONYSUS. drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

HERMES. devil-may-care smile. always up-to-date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

HADES. walking home alone in the early morning. back alleys. drinking alone in a graveyard. crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism. crows picking a carcass. untended dead flowers. the black sheep of the family. black coffee. money can’t buy you happiness. murder mystery dinner parties. blood on your shirt collar. dust illuminated by sunlight. classical music. dogs are better than people. a quiet wrath. shady business deals. taking what you are owed. paint it black. seasonal affective disorder. popping the suit collar. grey rain on a cityscape.

POSEIDON. storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever-changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS. thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lennyface. nightmare-filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high - rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

Tagged by: @ka-go-me

Tagging: @slaheir @senpujin @thecursedpriestess @crimsonacrosstime @aphrcdite @chxmpionofjustice & anyone else who wants to do this

#dash games #About Muse #about Hakudoshi #[headcanon]

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tcnseigad · 4 years

Text

GREEK GOD AESTHETICS :

APHRODITE. laughter-loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles.in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks.strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO. glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold.neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonder wall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paintbrushes. probably has a tinder account.

HADES. walking home alone in the early morning. back alleys. drinking alone in a graveyard. crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism. crows picking a carcass. untended dead flowers. the black sheep of the family. black coffee. money can’t buy you happiness. murder mystery dinner parties. blood on your shirt collar.dust illuminated by sunlight. classical music. dogs are better than people. a quiet wrath. shady business deals. taking what you are owed. paint it black. seasonal affective disorder. popping the suit collar. grey rain on a cityscape.

tagged by: @nephriteus

tagging: all new followers from this past week! @ me so I can read it!

#this was cool]#headcanons #Sesshomaru

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randomestfandoms-ocs · 4 years

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OC Olympian Tag – Jenna Saltzman

Dedicated to @lizziesxltzmxn who gave me this disaster child

Rules: Bold those traits and aesthetics that apply to your character.

OC: Jenna Saltzman

#jenna saltzman #olympian ask #dark side #about jenna

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battleshot · 4 years

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olympian aesthetics

tagged by: @qiianze <3

tagging: @7theaven, @devilreno, @strictomiles, @arcaens ( don’t come for me if you’ve already done this !! c: )

APHRODITE . laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO . glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account.

ARES . armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell will make you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS . keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, BONDING WHILE CIRCLED AROUND A CAMPIRE, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA . discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a lifelong teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.

DEMETER . soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants (elementals), leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS . drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS . the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles.

HERA . resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.

HERMES . devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON . storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns for more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS . thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, pretends they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch.

#𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚌. 𝙼𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 #a lot of hermes and ares !!#7theaven #devilreno #strictomiles #arcaens #tagging bc i don't think tags are working and i hate tumblr #long post

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blizzardmuses · 4 years

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GREEK GOD AESTHETIC

Aphrodite

laughter-loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

Apollo

glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paintbrushes. probably has a tinder account.

Ares

armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

Athena

discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armor that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colours. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

Demeter

soil-covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

Artemis

keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

Hephaestus

the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted-up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

Hera

resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

Dionysus

drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

Hermes

devil-may-care smile. always up-to-date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

Hades

walking home alone in the early morning. back alleys. drinking alone in a graveyard. crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism. crows picking a carcass. untended dead flowers. the black sheep of the family. black coffee. money can’t buy you happiness. murder mystery dinner parties. blood on your shirt collar. dust illuminated by sunlight. classical music. dogs are better than people. a quiet wrath. shady business deals. taking what you are owed. paint it black. seasonal affective disorder. popping the suit collar. grey rain on a cityscape.

Poseidon

storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever-changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

Zeus

thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lennyface. nightmare-filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high - rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

tagged by @perfectedingbadideas (thanks for tagging me! it was fun to do)

tagging: as im so late to this yall already done it, if you haven’t consider yourself tagged by me.

#;;dinah hc #;;you sing so pretty bird (dinah lance)

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