#“they’re so disconnected from their fans” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dollfacefantasy · 2 months

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daddy kink with chris and you’re overstimulated and crying and he kisses your hair and tells you it’s okay… like, he acts like he’s helping but also doesn’t slow down at all… he started going harder once he saw you crying…

pairing: chris redfield x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, overstimulation, dacryphilia

word count: 2.9k

a/n: ermmmm this is pure smut but school has me too tired to do a full fic and i wanted to make a picture so yeah hehe. thank you for this ask, it's right up my alley. i hope you like :) as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

Today was a bad day for Chris. Or at least it had been until he got home and found you, laying in bed without a care in the world. He tried to be normal about it at first, he really did. He nodded a hello as he walked through the bedroom and settled the dust from his day. He went through the motions, breathing deeper to try and chill out. But as he looked at you, the more the urge built within him to get rid of some of that tension, pump it all deep inside of you. He couldn’t help it. He was just so overwhelmed, and he needed his little stress reliever to help him out.

He climbs on the bed and slots himself next to you. His lips find your neck immediately. You can feel the raw need in his movements. A giggle bubbles from your lips as part of his facial hair scratches against your neck. Poor baby, clueless as to what was in store for you. Your ear meets your shoulder to give him some more room on your throat, and he doesn’t let it go to waste. Nipping at your skin, tongue laving over the small love bites he litters you with. You moan and shift slightly as the tingling from your neck drips down your spine to the pit of your belly.

“Chris…” you whimper.

He doesn’t remove his mouth from you though. Amateur mistake. He was obviously in a mood. Your eyes flutter as his large hand squeezes your waist.

“Daddy…” you correct yourself.

A sharp breath fans across your neck as he briefly disconnects. “What is it, baby? Feeling needy too?” he asks before kissing your throat a bit more.

“Mhm,” you hum softly, sinking down on the bed more.

He chuckles against your throat, one of his hands pulling on your thigh to spread your legs. His fingers only tease your inner thigh for now. They don’t coast across the part of you that aches for him.

“So easy, precious,” he breathes before scooting down.

He positions himself between your legs and tugs your shorts down quickly. After they’re discarded, he presses his lips to the skin the pads of his fingers had just been smoothing over. His breath hitches at the soft, plush warmth of your flesh. You bite your lip and merely watch him close in. He can feel your gaze, and it only serves to make his semi-hard cock even stiffer.

Looping his arms over your thighs, he pulls you even closer. Your head squishes on a couple pillows as he buries his face between your legs against your clothed cunt. He inhales so deep that it’s audible. So is the groan he lets out after. You feel his lips against the fabric of your panties before he licks the cloth too. The pleasure was dulled by the barrier, but it still got you going seeing how needy he was.

He drags his nose against the garment to take in more of your scent before using his mouth again on your covered pussy. More arousal collected beneath as you watched him go at it. With a small impatient wriggle of your hips, you whine in anticipation.

“Just a second, honey. Wanna enjoy this,” he grumbles.

It honestly felt like he was trying to suffocate himself between your thighs. That’s even more true once he finally yanks your panties off. He’s right back to what he was doing, smothering himself with you. Your head falls back as he laps at your folds, grunting at the taste of your slick on your tongue. He sucks on your clit while flicking his tongue against it, making your arms flail while you cry out for him.

Your heels dig into his back while you whimper and writhe. He holds you in place and devours you. You can still hear those sharp breaths coming from him, each one is calculated since he seems insistent on not coming up for air.

This wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Chris was always a pretty dedicated lover for you. He never teased too much, but usually he would mumble a few things here and there. Not now though. It seemed he was lost in a haze of lust, eating you out for his own reasons rather than your pleasure.

You’re sure of this when you reach your first high. You shriek and jerk, legs trembling and only secured by his strong arms. Gasping, your fingers claw at the blankets on the bed. Despite all this though, he doesn’t stop when you should be coming down.

“Daddy,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. You can’t even verbalize that it’s too much. A string of whines leaves you instead, and your words come out jumbled. Your legs pointlessly kick as he continues licking up your cunt.

“It’s ok, dolly. Daddy just needs some more time with this pretty pussy,” he grunts, “It’s gonna feel good, ok?”

You whimper again as you nod, barely stuttering out an “ok” before he dives back in. He makes out with it, taking in all of you that he can. Flattening his tongue and dragging it over your sore clit, he sends shocks through your body. You feel like static on a broken tv, vibrating as he works you closer to the edge again.

The sheets twist and crumple underneath you from the way he has you squirming and shifting around. Your legs go taut as you crash through release for a second time. It doesn’t take as long since you were so sensitive from having just cum. You squeak this time, quieter than the last. Your limbs shudder with more intensity though, and your eyes roll back.

And he still keeps going. You move your legs more this time, to which he responds by tightening his grip. Breathy whines continuously tumble from your lips. Your mind is melting down into a puddle. You can’t find the words to protest this time, so you don’t. That’s fine with him. He continues on, chin completely coated with your slick at this point.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip in an attempt to restrain the pathetic noises coming from you. The way he went all in, you’d think you were the best thing he ever tasted. He’s not even rocking his hips into the mattress. All his focus is on you, the way he maneuvers his mouth on you. It’s not long until you’re cumming for the third time.

He’s still not showing any signs of letting up, so you will yourself to intervene.

“Chris!” you yelp without thinking, your hips bucking in time with your plea.

“Who?” he growls without looking up.

“Daddy… I can’t,” you whine, correcting yourself for the second time tonight.

“Oh, I know you can, sweetheart,” he says before a lewd noise sounds through the room as he latches back onto your clit.

You nearly shout at the sensation, shaking your head wildly. Your voice is growing more whiny, and your head is sinking into that state where everything is soft and syrupy, like a waking world of dreams.

“Mm-mm, I- I need a break. It- mmph- it’s too much,” you whimper and squirm around harder.

He digs his fingers in, set on keeping you where you are. He actually does take a break to look up at you. His eyes connect with your own.

“Does it feel bad, princess?” he asks.

You stumble through your thoughts to try to think of how to articulate yourself. “No…” you say slowly, “It…”

During your pause, he interjects. “So it feels good, yeah?” he asks. He’s condescending for sure, just the way you like him to be.

“Well yeah. But it’s too much,” you say, lip puffing out into an automatic pout.

He chuckles and shakes his head, lowering himself to press a few tender kisses to your pulsing bundle of nerves. “Just one for me, baby. Daddy just wants to play with his favorite girl after a long day,” he says before his tongue returns to your folds.

Your head falls back again as your mind spins with the heat swirling inside you. One more. You could take one more. But if it was anymore than that, you were pretty sure you’d go numb.

You were already going a little dumb. Whiny, squirmy, no thoughts inside your head except for what was happening in the moment. Your body was moving on instinct, you didn’t have much control at this point.

He does give you the tiniest break as he fucks his tongue into you rather than attacking your clit. It’s still stoking the flames of sensitivity, but the pleasure is much more muted. But as soon as you think to be relieved about this, his mouth is all over you, and that burning sense of overstimulation is back.

Your thighs lock around his head. You would be concerned about cutting off his air flow, but it seemed like that was his goal anyways. Your shirt was clinging to your form, highlighting how your breasts heaved and puffed up and down with each gasp.

It feels like a never ending fuse, but finally, you hit that “one more” he wanted. You gush all over his face yet again. Ecstasy stabs through you. A long moan erupts from you before devolving into a collection of unintelligible mumbles.

He chuckles into you and gives a couple more licks before he actually pulls off. You had started to wonder if he ever actually would.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “Such a sweet baby, always doing what daddy asks.”

You lazily nod, dumb little smile gracing your features. He pets your head, a few soft strokes before getting up to undress himself. You’re too out of it to really pay much attention to that though.

Your little break is over just as quick as it began. He climbs on top of you again, peppering your face and neck with kisses.

“Wanna see these pretty tits bounce while I’m inside,” he murmurs as he peels your shirt off of you. He moves your limbs like a doll’s to rid you of your top. You’re limp, pliable, simply moving where he guides you.

Once you’re fully nude beneath him, he lines himself up. Swiping his tip through your soaked center, he doesn’t waste much time teasing. He slides in groaning as he sinks into your heat, savoring each inch of your wet embrace.

“She’s been missing her daddy,” he mutters, “So fuckin’ tight for me.”

You give another weak nod as a response. He starts rocking, slow at first, easing into a rhythm. You’re so tender though, it doesn’t feel as slow. You whimper with each of his movements. Every poke within you feels like another jab to your already overwhelmed center.

You call out for him, using it as a reprieve from the overwhelming sensations. His cock is heavy and thick just like every other part of him. You can feel that simply from the way it stretches you out and pulsates between your walls.

Soon enough he finds a pace he likes. It’s quick, but he’s not jack-hammering. He’s stroking you deep for sure, head of his cock kissing your cervix and prodding against all your other spots that send jolts of pleasure through your body.

You were so shaky, trying your best to cling onto Chris for some sense of stability. Your arms loop around his neck, legs weakly attached to his hips. The air around you feels heavy as if it’s pressing you further into the mattress, aiding him in keeping you trapped beneath his large form.You can’t contain the array of sounds flowing from you. Your mind is too fucked out and hazy to worry about self-restraint.

“Good girl, baby. Keep making all those cute little noises. Let me hear how much you need it,” he mumbles into your ear between pants. Some sloppy kisses land on your temple before he seems to start working his hips even harder than before.

You’re taut like a rubber band about to snap, thrumming with the slightest touch. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to cope with the all consuming pleasure inside you. It’s like you can barely breathe. All you have right now is Chris. Nothing else is registering.

You’re babbling, trying to show some of how you’re feeling, but it’s all unintelligible. He can really only make out “daddy” and a few “I love yous.” Everything else is as muddled as the thoughts in your head.

He does understand when you choke out “daddy need to cum.” And like the good guy he is, he indulges you. He speed up more, slamming his hips against you with brutal force. The headboard is beating against the wall, and your body rocks in time from the momentum.

Continuing to kiss and suck on your throat, he chuckles. “Already came… what? Four times? And you still want more. You’re getting so spoiled, princess,” he teases.

You can’t really think of a defense in this state. Instead, you weakly shake your head and whimper “‘m not spoiled.”

He laughs louder and thrusts harder. “I’ll have to be careful with you. Can’t have you turning into a total brat on me,” he says.

Before you can protest this slander, he thrusts extra hard and knocks you over the edge. You practically scream. Your body locks up, and you convulse involuntarily. Tears build up in your eyes. When you open them, they’re glossy. Droplets already threaten to spill over the waterline.

He’s still slamming his cock in and out. You’re stretched thin. You feel like you’re gonna pass out at this point. The euphoria must be constricting your lungs or something. You start crying. Not just little teardrops rolling down your cheeks. No. Actual cries begin bursting from you, and it isn’t long before they morph into sobs. Tears do flow, your eyes and cheeks feel perpetually wet. A single blink unleashes more every time.

And once he hears that first cry, all teasing is gone from Chris’s demeanor. Though, it’s not replaced by concern. Sure, he feels a twinge of sympathy scratching at his heart, but it’s not the dominant emotion running through him.

Your crying just… does something to him. Something primal he can’t control. Something primitive he forgets exists until he has you beneath him like this. Those round cheeks streaked with tears, face twisted up in desperation, glossy eyes looking at him with complete reverence. It takes everything not to blow his load right when he sees it. It’s above him the way his hips instinctively go harder. He was basically jack-hammering now like his intention was to ruin you.

But you’re still his baby. He kisses your cheek, tasting the faintest hint of salt as your tears meet his lips. His hand that’s not supporting him, strokes your neck.

“It’s ok, baby bear. Daddy’s right here,” he coos as if he isn’t the one bringing you to tears.

You gasp and whimper. The words “I know” barely make it from your lips, but they reach his ears. His own body is getting stiff as his release bubbles up within him. He grits his teeth and keeps thrusting, grunting at how tight you’re clamped around him, walls massaging his shaft with each stroke.

“So pretty when you cry, sweet girl. Such a sensitive baby,” he whispers into your hair, “My baby bear. Just a little more.”

You’re just hanging on, nodding along to what he says as your tears flow. You’re not chasing release. Even though you feel like you’re locked into a high right now, you don’t feel like you could cum again. You think you’d rupture something if you did.

Chris, on the other hand, knows it’s right around the corner. His jaw clenches as his eyes droop. His hand tightens into a fist in your hair, tugging a little on the locks. His breathing becomes harsher, his body is coated with sweat as he keeps working to that peak.

“Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you. You’ve been so good. I’m so proud of you,” he coos between kisses to your head.

Again, your head bobs in a weak nod. You’re limp on the bed when his body locks up and he buries himself as deep inside your cunt as he can go. He moans with his release. You can feel the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as the pleasure washes over him. He exhales deeply before collapsing on top of you. He’s smothering you, and normally, you’d complain, but you’re not really in the mood right now.

Your bodies are molded together. You can’t even really tell where he ends and you begin. You’re both catching your breaths. For you, you’re regaining awareness of everything that isn’t the man on top of you.

You just lay like that for a while until finally, he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re not left alone though because he pulls you into his lap, cradling you against his chest like a plush toy. He’s looking down at you with all the love in the world. His thumb swipes across your cheeks to wipe away all the remaining tears.

“You ok?” he whispers and kisses your face a few times.

“Mhm,” you hum, sinking further into his embrace.

“Good,” he says while beginning to rub your back, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

He knows this is what you need right now. In a few minutes, he’ll get you up, put you in the bath, make you a drink. But right now, he knows you just want him to hold you like the precious thing you are.

#chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x y/n #chris redfield x you #chris redfield imagine #chris redfield smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #smut

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dejwrld · 4 months

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summary — the story of how international rockstar & the international pop star met at gojo satoru's party

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻accumulated word count of 4.9k, female reader, rockstar!choso, popstar!reader, famous jjk au, told in third pov (choso pov), mentions of gojo being an actor, alcohol consumption, profanity, mentions of yuji, kechizu, & eso, kechizu and eso are described as humans, mentions of choso winning a grammy, mentions of grandpa itadori owning a onigiri shop, setting: tokyo, japan, thigh fucking, do not do the do in your grandpa’s onigiri shop, minors do not interact!

sticky note from deja — somebody asked how choso and reader would have met. so i am here to write that! i accidentally deleted the ask lmfao. so here is something quick, that turned into something long. this fic is a standalone from my previous choso fic, it takes place before that fic though | divider credit @/v6que

Choso wasn’t the biggest fan of parties when he had just gotten off tour three days ago and wanted to spend his one-month hiatus disconnecting from practically everything and everyone. He knew as soon as the month ended, it would be crunch time to prepare for his next album—plus being a judge on this music competition show. He wanted to prepare himself mentally and spend time with his brothers. But here he was wall hugging with a drink at one of Gojo Satoru’s parties. The insane thing about this party is that it was at Satoru’s place; he oddly trusted every celebrity that littered his place to be comfortable with it. Choso’s anxiety would go through the roof at the thought of someone possibly spilling wine on his couch, but this was Gojo Satoru. If he needed an interior designer to redecorate his place in four days—he’d do it.

“You’ll never guess who just messaged me saying they’re coming through because they’re in Japan for two weeks.” Satoru’s voice shrieked over the music. He waved his phone in Choso’s face so aggressively that Choso couldn’t see what he was showing him.

“The Y/N L/N.” He said. “The three-time Grammy award-winning one!”

“I’m a Grammy winner.” Choso joked, sipping from his cup, and Satoru’s crystal blue eyes stared at the raven-haired male as if he’d grown an extra arm.

“But you aren’t a three-time Grammy award winner, and I know you, Choso. We all know each other.” He corrects as he eyes his best friend, Geto Suguru, playing pool with movie director Nanami Kento. “So, if you see her. Don’t be weird. You tend to be weird around beautiful women.”

Choso’s lips parted to argue, but Gojo just shook his head, not wanting to hear whatever excuse would come out of the rockstar’s mouth before eventually going to tend to his other guests. Choso took that mental note to avoid the woman altogether. He had heard about her. If you didn’t, you had to live under the ground because everyone knew her. Even here in Japan, she had a solid fanbase. She was Pop’s current it girl, and Choso highly doubted she was going anywhere at the time, especially considering that her latest single was Number 1.

As Choso stepped outside on the balcony of Satoru’s luxury penthouse, the sound of the music blasting was left behind as he glanced out at the skyline of downtown Tokyo. His mind attempted to find peace until a voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Crap, someone found my hiding place.”

When Choso glanced over, he saw her. The one that Gojo was raving about her arrival. He straightened himself up, immediately remembering Satoru’s words. He was in front of a rising music legend at the moment. The talk of Japan since the news dropped that she was coming here.

“You do know the party host is currently anticipating your arrival?” He closed the gap between them as she stepped closer so she could hear him a bit better.

“I mean, yeah. But I just wanted to enjoy the alone time before I’m bombarded with the sea of taking selfies with so many people,” She responds with a chuckle. “I stole this bottle of champagne from his bar, though. I hope he doesn't mind.” She sips from the bottle before placing it down.

“You’re hiding from the party, huh? Didn’t think a rockstar wouldn’t be the life of a party right before him.”

Choso’s cheeks heated at her words. One.) Her eyes scanned him as if she was checking him out. Two.) He realized that she may have known who he was.

“I get one month off after a worldwide tour. I kinda didn’t want to use this night partying with people who only hit me up when they want me on the guest lists of their party,” He responds.

“So, what would you do?” The popstar asks.

“Probably hang out with my brothers. It’s been months since I saw them in person.” Choso comments with a sigh. “We have so much catching up to do,”

“Then let’s go,” She responds as she turns around to grab her miniature purse that Choso was sure could only fit about three things at most.

“Huh?” He questions. “Did you not hear me say that the party's host is waiting for you,” He repeats.

“I did, and I want to go with you to hang with your brothers,” She sighs. “I’ve been going to parties since I arrived here in Japan. Missing one won’t hurt,” She pushes the oversized shades on her face with a smile, and Choso felt his cock & heart flutter. “I haven’t been able to enjoy Japan, so why not enjoy it with a rockstar instead.”

Choso chuckles before he nods in agreement. “Well, how do you feel about motorcycles?” He asks. He rocks back and forth on his heels before giving the woman a grin as she is thinking.

“My manager would oppose me getting on one, but my manager isn’t here.” She points out. “So, what the hell.” She throws her hands up. “But we also have another problem.” She peeks over the balcony, and despite being many floors up from the ground, she can still see the flashing of paparazzi cameras.

“Oh, I came in through the backway. I’ve been to Satoru’s penthouse parties many times and learned the many exits and entrances. Don’t worry; your fans won’t get any photos of you leaving a party with some sleazy rock slash alternative musician.” He grins at her and decides to enter the place, fully not expecting her to follow behind him.

Choso can only imagine the photos if they were caught together. They probably would think he was corrupting her, or she was in her bad girl phase. Either way, he didn’t mind. But he hated people in his business, and being seen with her meant people would be in his business. It’s a reason why he’s paying off restitution to a paparazzi guy. The guy was in his business, and Choso may have broken his camera.

“Wait up! I’m coming!” Her voice screams over the music as she catches up to Choso to grab upon the black leather jacket he wore.

Just like that, the international rock and pop stars quickly left Gojo Satoru’s party. Choso had taken the elevator to the second floor, Y/N not far behind him as she was more aware of her surroundings than he was. Then, they used the emergency fire exit to exit the building. There, Choso’s BMW R18 motorcycle was where he left it. He picked up the spare helmet and gave it to Y/N.

“Just hold on to me. I promise I won’t hurt the world’s favorite pop princess.” He pulled the helmet over his face as she giggled at his comment.

“I hope not because my fans would want your head on a pike.” She smirked as she got on the motorcycle right after him. Instantly, Y/N’s arms are snaking around his waist.

“Well, good thing I also have insane fans.” Choso backfires before turning on the motorcycle, the engine roaring out Y/N’s snarky comment in response.

Choso knew that his brothers probably were at Yuji’s grandfather's onigiri shop because on Fridays, it’s busier than usual, and the old man was too stubborn to hire anybody else when he had (and Choso quote) ‘strong grandsons to help an old man out.’ Choso did not pay for the ten-year-old shop renovations for him having to come back from tour to throw on an apron and go home smelling like seawood and rice. But it was pretty late; the shop was probably closed, and his siblings were circled around a table eating what hadn’t been sold. Yuji would blabber on about his senior year and exams. Because of his dance classes, Eso would most definitely have his leg prompted up on a chair with bags of ice on it. In contrast, Kechizu head would be into his Steam deck console to even care about Yuji swiping fish cakes off his plate. He knew his brothers like he knew the lyrics he wrote; they were imprinted in his brain because they were all he had if fame, money, and luxury were taken away.

When he parked the motorcycle, he helped Y/N off it and removed the helmet. “I hope you like Onigiri.” He says.

“Well, I only tried it once from a convenience store.” Her fingers combed through her braids that traveled down her back before smoothing out the black jumpsuit she wore.

“I promise these are better.” He held the door open for her, and as he had expected, the place was closing. Chairs were placed on most tables except for the one his brothers occupied.

All of them had different dads; it was a frequent talking point in Choso's interviews with magazines, radio stations, and so on. Yes, the world knew their mother, who wasn’t the best mom—slept around. It wasn’t a secret; maybe it did help some bloggers throw jabs at him. However, Choso wasn’t ashamed of where he came from and how he was raised. Regardless if all his brothers looked differently, they were still his brothers. So what if Yuji resembled his father with his pastel pink-shaded hair and bright eyes? Or Eso, who was the tallest despite being the middle child and he had a passion for ballet dancing. Then Kechizu, who people assume was the youngest, was as quiet as can be—very observant but knew every fuckin’ fact about some retro video game. They all acted so differently—looked so differently, but they were still so close as if they were raised in the same household.

“Holy shit!” Yuji exclaimed as his eyes beamed at the door when he saw Choso and Y/N walk in. “Holy shit!” He repeated.

“Language,” Choso exclaimed as he stepped forward to ruffle Kechizu’s green-colored hair. The second youngest child swatted his brother’s hand as he tried to continue to play Fortnite. “Do we have room to add another to the table?”

“Of course, the Y/N L/N is in my presence. Todo is going to freak out when I tell him.” Yuji squeals as he moves his chair over for Choso to add a chair in between him and Yuji for the pop star.

Y/N gives them a smile that Choso has seen her give to many people—interviewers, musicians, her fans. She took the seat in between Yuji and himself, and Choso couldn’t help but to slap the back of his younger brother's head as the pastel pink-haired teenager leaned back to take a peek at Y/N’s while she sat down.

“So are you two like-”

“It’s none of your business,” Choso interjected as he glared at Yuji because he just had to be the curious cat within the brothers.

The group continued to eat, with small conversations about things from the tour to Y/N’s music. Even though she had just met his brothers, she fit in perfectly with them. Granted, he didn’t like that she did about five math problems for Itadaori. The way she made the room feel much brighter made Choso’s cheeks heat as he observed the room. Now she was talking about dance with Eso, completely lost in the topic as they gushed about the first dance classes they took.

“I was eight when I took my first dance class. It was ballet; I practically had two left feet.” She chuckles after taking a bite of the onigiri. “You have wonderful legs, Eso, so I know you’re a killer dancer.” She compliments him.

Her glossed lips formed a straight line as she thought about something, “You know, I have a show at this festival before I go home. If you don’t have any plans, I’m down a dancer for my team. I know it’s short notice, but some pretty important people will be in the crowd…” Her voice trails off as a smile appears on Eso’s face. “Only if you’re down. Don’t feel pressured because it’s me.”

“I would be honored. Send me where you guys rehearse, and I’ll be there.” Eso smiles at her as they exchange phone numbers and socials.

“Well, since you’re giving out opportunities. Can you set me up to meet a couple of people?” Yuji opened the notes app on his phone with his list. “Jennifer Lawrence, Tom Holland, maybe Megan thee Stallion too.”

“You have a rockstar older brother. Why can’t you ask him?” Y/N questioned as her eyes playfully glared at Yuji.

“He said, and I quote…I refuse for you to embarrass me.” Yuji mocked Choso’s tone and was met with a chopstick thrown at him.

Just as Choso was about to interject, Wasuke Itadori came from behind, questioning who would close up. Silence overcame the group, and Yuji even slumped lower in his seat to prevent himself from being chosen. He had closed the shop for three days straight because his brothers were ever so busy with their lives.

“Choso, since you have a guest…you guys will close up.” Wasuke tugged on his jacket just as Yuji and the others collected their things to leave. “Before you lie and say you have some band thing, I know you’re off tour and on vacation.”

“Shit,” Choso uttered as he stood to collect the shop’s keys from the older guy. “We’ll clean up and lock up the shop. Don’t need to worry.”

“Good, and don’t keep your lady friend out so late. That’s not very gentlemanly. But what can I say? Chivalry is dead when it comes to your bunch.” He gives Y/N a wink as he leads the others out of the shop, leaving the two musicians all alone.

“You have a unique family.” Y/N stands.

“You don’t have to stay to help me close up? Like he said, I don’t want to keep you out so late.” Choso tears his leather jacket off and tosses it on one of the chairs.

He sported a black t-shirt that reasonably fitted him. His biceps bulged just a bit with each flex of him picking up dishes to clean them in the kitchen. Even Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he moved around the eating area.

“I don’t mind helping, plus you’re kinda my ride back to where I’m staying.” She collected the other dishes and followed Choso into the kitchen.

“Well, let’s hurry because I don’t want to have you out too late. You probably have something to do in the morning.”

“Just rehearsal that starts at noon.”

“I remember those days. Gosh, so glad the tour is over with.” He emptied the plates and put the dishes in the sink.

“How was the tour for you? From the looks of social media, it seemed like it wasn’t a dull moment,” She points out as she rolls her sleeves up. She took the place next to Choso with a cloth to dry the dishes that Choso was washing.

“Fun. Sometimes, I love being on the road, but I like being around my family more. I get homesick like shit when I’m touring. But when I go out and perform—do what I love to do, and it reminds me why I do it.” Choso explains while passing a dish to Y/N to dry. “It feels like just yesterday I was singing in bars in Roppongi district.”

When he turned his head, he was met with her gaze. His whole body betrayed him because he immediately felt the heat in his cheeks. When Choso blushed, it was as noticeable as can be. His cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of red that took minutes to go away.

“I’m sure your brothers are very proud of you.” She smiles and places another plate to the side.

“What about you? It’s your first time performing here?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m nervous. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He hummed at her words before the two returned to washing the dishes. Their arms briefly bump into each other, and they find themselves uttering apologies for something so subtle.

“So, I’m curious to ask. Since other than the news of you performing at this music festival this week. Are you still dating that guy? That actor…” His voice trails off, wondering if that was an intrusive question.

“Why’d you ask? For yourself or your little actor friend Satoru?” Her elbow nudges against his side after she puts another dried plate to the side.

Choso was quiet for a second. When he talked to Gojo earlier, the actor didn’t seem interested in the popstar—but it was Gojo. He had his way of trying to get with someone that left many (including Gojo) confused. Choso wouldn’t deny that Y/N was attractive, but he knew she had heard it from many guys. Perhaps she didn’t want someone to view her in a lens that she’s used to the whole world viewing her as. The sultry, sexy popstar whose Playboy photoshoot went viral on every social media platform down to fuckin’ Reddit.

“Who knows with Satoru? His publicist ensures his love life is on lock. But for me, I don’t know either.” He foolishly admits. He grabbed a hand towel, dried his hands with it, and turned to face the hideous cat clock that was ticking with each second.

“You don’t know?” She asked; she stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the clock—but of course, Choso didn’t mind.

Choso sighs and tosses the cloth to the side, “If I admit it, I’ll feel like I’m viewing you in the same lens that every other guy views you as. The sexy pop star who caused a guy to faint when he met you,” Choso chuckles. “Just forget I asked..”

“Hm, you view me as something other than a sexy pop star.” She stepped forward, and Choso could get a whiff of warm vanilla-scented perfume. Her eyes glanced up at him through her lashes, and again, she saw the faint red color stain Choso’s cheeks.

“From this conversation and you ditching a party despite being the main reason everyone came, I can tell that you want to be viewed through a lens other than the sexy popstar,” Choso admits. “And I think that’s why you decided to come with me. You knew I would be able to view you in said lens without trying.”

He couldn’t read her expression, but he could tell just by her taking a step forward, suffocating his personal space, that he was correct. He bites at his lower lip before speaking again, stepping forward also. “If I’m right, selfishly enough—I’ll make you mine right now.”

“Quite bold of you to say Mr. Rockstar because if I remember correctly, in your GQ interview, you don’t do relationships because you hate people being in your business. The world’s most popular rockstar slash alternative musician and the pop’s current it girl being together…everyone will be in our business.”

“Fair point, but I guess that’s a risk I’ll take and many NDAs to give out.”

Choso was always a man to make the first move, but here, the popstar was leaping forward to kiss him. Gosh, he let her. If he could, he’ll let her use him as she pleases. His hand guided her to the top of the counter as he kissed her deeply. Her fingers combed through his dark locks of hair, tugging gently for a response just to slip her tongue into his mouth. She tasted so good. It's like the best bottle of champagne that someone can offer. A moan vibrates from the back of Choso’s throat as the two make out. Tongues taste each other like the last meal you two can have.

When they broke apart, Choso cupped Y/N’s face. His thumb drags alongside the soft flesh of her cheeks. “I don’t think we should take this any further in his fuckin’ onigiri shop—but fuck.” He sighs. “I don’t think I can make it to my place.” His eyes averted behind Y/N at the employee bathroom.

It was hardly used, considering that Wasuke practically ran the shop himself. Usually, it is only used when one of the brothers stops by.

“You can’t be that horny not to wait.” Y/N laughs before she feels Choso collect her hand and press it against his crotch. Her eyes enlarged at what she was feeling.

“Look what you’ve done to me; I can’t wait.” His head fell upon her shoulders, and his words were a stubborn whine.

Y/N pushes him back from in between the space of her thighs, and she hops off the counter and walking towards the bathroom. Like a dog receiving a treat, Choso follows behind Y/N in the bathroom. When the two were in the enclosed space, he turned her around so that she was facing the sink. His hands unzipped the front of her jumpsuit while his lips ghosted over her brown skin. He was nipping at spots on her neck like a hormonal college student.

“If I knew that I was going to be receiving dick from the Choso Kamo, I would have worn something much easier to work around.” She helps him pull the upper part of the jumpsuit down.

Her breast broke out the tight spandex material as soon as it came down, and Choso felt him grow even harder—aching, entirely for her. His hands snaked around the front of her waist to feel inside her nude, seamless panties.

If Choso concentrated hard enough, he could feel his precum stain his bottoms at the feel of how wet she was. His index and middle fingers that strummed countless guitars and rubbed slow circles on her clit. With the mirror that was above the sink, he was able to see her come undone. It was similar to pulling at a loose piece of thread on a piece of clothing and watching it unravel with each pull. Y/N melted in front of him. Her plump lips gasped apart to let out a sweet tune: her moans. With each motion of his million-dollar fingers, she moans louder—this time gasping out his name like a lyric in one of the love songs she’s written.

Before Choso wanted to quicken his teasing, he unbuckled his belt quickly. The sound was like music to Y/N’s ears because she attempted to step out of her jumpsuit, but Choso stopped her with a brief slap on her ass. It took her by shock, but she felt herself grow wet at the feeling of the sting going away.

“Who said you were getting my dick tonight?” He asks as he pushes the jumpsuit down.

“I’m the world’s biggest pop star now, I think I deserve it.” Y/N points out as Choso nips at the tip of her ear.

“And I’m the world’s biggest rockstar, with the current #1 album on the charts. So I think I outrank you at the moment.” He smirks as he’s pulling his boxers down just a bit for his cock to spring out beautifully.

“My tour grossed the highest,” She proudly bragged.

“In your dreams, pop star.” Choso's fingers hook the band of her panties, sliding them down—his hand palms at the fatness of her ass.

Choso could give her what she wanted. Stuff her full with his cock, but she’s been given what she wanted ever since she established herself as this star.

“So, you’re just going to edge the world's most popular pop star on like this?” She questions; a teasing tone drops from her tongue, and her eyes stare at him through the mirror.

“Something like that,” Choso brought his hand up to his mouth, gawking up a fair amount of spit to coat his cock in, and his lips curved into a devious smirk seeing Y/N eagerly wiggle herself further on him. His hardened cock poked her, but the musician had other plans.

Instead of helping slide into Y/N’s cunt, his cock wedged in between her thighs—right above the little bit of space of her panties being pulled down. Which was as lewd as can be simply by if Choso would come, his cum not only splattered upon her thighs but decorated her panties also. With the first rock of his hips, while his cock was between her thighs, the tip of it brushed against Y/N’s folds causing her to moan. The traction causes an incoherent hiss to pass by Choso’s lips as he’s rocking his cock in between her thighs.

“Fuck.” He uttered, realizing that if just thigh fucking Y/N was causing his brain to feel fuzzy like it did when he smoked weed for the first time—how the hell was he going to feel when he finally got the opportunity to be inside her. His fingers dug into the flesh of her waist as he’s thrusting his cock inward and outward of her thighs. Each movement caused her breasts to jiggle salaciously, and that seemed to add to the list of little things that turned him in while being crammed in this bathroom with her.

“This isn’t fair,” Y/N shutters over the lewd sound of Choso’s cock thrusting between her thighs.

Even though she would complain about how he was only getting off at this. That her clit was throbbing and aching for attention as Choso’s cock was between her thighs. He didn’t even acknowledge her response but instead used his feet to kick at her own to bring her thighs together just a bit more. Even brought his cock up a little bit more—finally giving the woman what she wanted. His cock was just inches away from rubbing against her folds that were decorated with her slit—occasionally, the tip of his fat cock bribes against them before he guided it back to its rightful place.

“Fuck,” Choso uttered, bringing her closer, her back now placed upon his broad chest as his hips bulldozed his cock forward.

He was trying too hard to imagine that this is what her pussy would feel like. That the fiery pit that grew at an increasing rate in his ball sack was a feeling you’ll get immediately when you indulge in her cunt. A couple more pumps of his cock in between her thighs, Choso’s cum squirts out the tip of his cock. To add to the mess he made in between her thighs, he’s pumping his cock some more sloppily. His thick ropes of cum decorated her thighs and her underwear, and Choso finally went limp as his face was red like a tomato, and his cock was a sticky mess. He just thigh fucked the world’s most famous pop star at the moment in the bathroom of his brother’s grandfather's Onigiri shop.

He reaches behind him at the paper towel dispenser to help clean her up. Silence overcame the two before Choso tossed the dirty paper towels in the trash. His face was heated from the interactions, and that tint of red still decorated his face shamelessly. His hair fell in his face, and some strands stuck to his forehead due to the sweat on it. He pulled his boxers and pants back up, buckling them immediately.

As the two shameless musicians were awkwardly cleaning themselves up, Choso, being the gentlemen, used a wet paper towel to wipe off Y/N’s thighs, and his phone that was shoved in his back pocket rang. He ignored it as he figured it’d be Yuji urging him to grab something he forgot in the shop. Or Gojo asking him where he ran off to. But instead, his manager was spam-calling him each time he didn’t answer the phone.

“You should answer that; it could be an emergency.” Y/N points out while fixing her clothes. She knew that as soon as she stepped foot in the apartment she was renting out, she would take the longest shower. Even so, she adored the scent of Choso imprinting her skin.

“You really can’t transition off a tour without a scandal. What the hell happened to you were going to spend time with your brothers and lay low.” His manager’s voice yells through the phone, causing him to pull the device away from his ear.

“I don’t know what the hell you're talking about.”

“Answer me this, Choso. Are you with Y/N L/N right now?”

Choso’s eyes look at Y/N, who is applying a coat of clear lip gloss. Her body is leaning slightly to be closer to the mirror above the sink.

“Maybe…” Choso’s voice trails off, expecting the worst.

“Well, the world knows you’re with her right now. I sent your bodyguard and a private car to come pick you guys up immediately. They’re probably already surrounding that freakin’ onigiri shop.”

Choso didn’t let his manager talk his head off any second longer as he ended the call to force a smile on his face that Y/N knew something was wrong. She’s seen the fake smiles from many people that she has lost count. Something happened.

“Well, my little popstar. I think our careers are about to take a turn.”

#choso kamo smut #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #anime smut #choso fanfic #black reader #female reader #jjk x black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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gloomyhearts · 6 months

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We got this ~ Vivianne Miedema x f!reader

Supporting your best friend never let to such a heartbroken moment in your life. The story follows up to Vivianne's ACL injury.

Watching the Lyon game filled you with ecstasy many fans gathered in the emirate’s stadium. The teams headed onto the field, and the anthem echoed through the venue. Vivianne was lined up in the starting eleven. As they got into their position Viv’s eyes found your figure in the crowd, and one side of her lips curled up as she waved at you.

It was an even game possession from both sides as well as pressing, creating chances. Some tackling here and there but still nil-nil. Three minutes additional time, the most hurtful you have ever lived through. Lyon took a chance and scored the nil-one due to an own goal which resulted from a free kick.

Arsenal with the kick off followed by an attack towards the goal Viv slaloming through the bodies and trying to get the ball she missed. Abruptly her butt met the cold grass and she waved for anyone to notice but the game went on McCabe sprinting into the box passing to Manuum and she stops. The gazes of her teammates fell to her laying on the ground. Viv hid her face in her arms and her body shaking as she cried in pain. You could see that van de Donk kneeled next to her trying to speak to her, caressing her back. Your hands clenched over your mouth and eyes wide as the stare down at Vivianne. The scratcher arrived just seconds later but it felt like hours, like the time froze and your heart broke. The medic finally arrived at her side; she turned over her arms still covering her face. They put her leg in a splint careful and slow. Her face scrunched up as they moved her to the scratcher, her face went pale, and her eyes shut as the tears ran down her cheeks.

When she was carried off Beth and you already standing at the side line the stadium cheered for the forward player. She was pushed into the tunnel and you and Beth trotted behind the woman. You let her enter before. Pacing up and down the hallway you fidget with your scrunchy. Stopping in one spot you shift from your toes to your heel and forwards again, eyes wandering through the room. A hand lays down on your shoulder and you turn around. Your eyes meet with Beth’s reddish and tear cover ones. “she’s really crestfallen.” You bring your arms around Beth and pressed slightly, “thank you,” the words are mumbled into her coat.

In a slow manner you open the door stepping into the room, it holds many emotions. “Hey gorgeous.” Your hand grabs a chair and place it next to the examination table. With her eyes shut she nods and stutters, “hi.”

“Oh Anna,” placing her hand in yours you squeeze it and rub circles on the back of it. “it’s going to be okay, yeah? I’m here. I’ll always be here, every step of it,” you bring her hand up to your lips and gently let them touch her skin. A tear slips out of her eyes, and you brush it away. “You’re freezing up,” getting out of your coat you lay it around her shoulder, your scent meeting her olfactory receptors.

The room went silent again until Viviane lets heart shattering cries and sobs out pulling your coat higher so she can hide her face in it. As the sound is processed in your head tears cover your sight, “it will be you and me til the end. You remember my sweet warrior?” moving closer to her you stroke her back and kissed the crown of her head. “We’ll get through this. You’re the strongest woman I know. The best player I ever met and I’m grateful for having you in my life. You’re my best friend my other half. You hear me Miedema?” your eyes darting on her, “you hear me beautiful?” you stroke through her hair, she leans into your touch and you can feel her shift.

A knock on the door echoes through the cold air. Beth head peaked in, “they’re gonna take to the hospital now, just so you know.”

Giving Beth a reassuring smile you answers, “all right,” disconnecting your touch on Viv’s head and lowering the hand which holds hers she grabs tightly onto it she makes you halt.

“Please stay,” her quivering voice mumbles. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see Beth’s smile drop, and her eyes fall to the floor.

#vivianne miedema x reader #vivianne miedema #woso #woso x reader #arsenal #woso imagine #woso fanfics #vivianne miedema imagine #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc imagine #viv miedema #arsenal wfc x reader #viv miedema x reader #vivianne miedema imagines #woso soccer #woso fanfic #woso community #vivianne miedema imagine

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monstrousfemale · 2 years

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After the world finally stops threatening to end, sometime in late 1989, Steve quietly gets a tattoo across his ribs. It’s something personal and private, something he just needs etched into his skin because to not have it there would feel like a lie. He feels disconnected from himself, he feels alone, he feels like bullshit. Going into Indianapolis for the weekend and shoving the handwritten line at a tattoo artist is the most human Steve has felt in forever. The sharp pain of the needle followed by the dull ache of the healing process finally grounds him.

No one but Robin hears about this, though. And turns out outside of saving the world, now that he doesn’t swim as much, Steve doesn’t have that many excuses to take his shirt off anymore. So, the tattoo is a secret by omission, and Steve is fine with that. It’s his thing, and it doesn’t have to be exposed for it to mean as much as it does.

And it does mean a lot. It’s a mark of a new beginning, something physical to prove to Steve he is still around and kicking.

And after that, life feels livable again. He has his friends, his only real family. He is managing Family Video now, after the owner had moved out of town due to world-almost-ending experiences. He is finally settling into being someone he actually wants to be.

Most importantly, Steve keeps in touch with Eddie as much as he can. They’re hanging out on and off all the time, falling into an easy routine without either of them meaning to. And by 1990, before either of them knows what hits them, they’re fumbling in the backroom at Family Video, making out against a shelf, VHS tapes raining down on them like falling in love: fast, hard, unexpected.

It’s all a blur of finally expressing things they had been keeping hidden for too long. Sharing secrets at midnight, back and forth with the pass of a joint or two or five. And after they start, they couldn't stop even if they had wanted to. They need this good thing. And they both know too well how fast the shit hits the fan around them. So, they don’t care for taking things slow, not after years of dancing around each other. All this to say, it doesn’t take long at all for Eddie to find himself in Steve Harrington's bedroom.

He’s sitting against the headboard, watching as Steve gets rid of his clothes. He had been expecting an almost childish awkwardness from Steve, because Eddie knows he hadn't done this before, not with a man. Not that Eddie has that much experience to speak of himself, but he had come to terms with it way earlier. It doesn’t matter what he had expected though, because in truth Steve is smooth, sexy even. He removes his clothes with purpose and devastating eye contact. He gets rid of his pants, and then his shirt is coming off – finally, finally messing up that amazing head of hair of his.

Eddie almost gets too distracted by Steve's intensity to notice the tattoo. When he comes closer, though, Eddie places his hand over his ribs. Instinctively, he just has to look and see what his skin looks like against Steve's skin. And there it is, right by his fingers. Pitch black ink, already healed over, already fully Steve. The words are stark against his pale skin. I want to be adored. Eddie has the air knocked out of him.

Steve looks down, confused for a moment. "Wha-?" he starts to ask, but then his brain catches on. Steve feels self-conscious, kisses Eddie to distract him from what he'd found. He hadn't known this is how he would feel, had never felt ashamed or embarrassed of much about his appearance before. And this isn’t quite shame. But this is Steve, bared, naked, in ways that go above a state of undress.

Eddie breaks the kiss, hand splayed over Steve's chest. "Fuck, Steve. When did you get that?"

"A while back. It's nothing." It is everything. It means so much to Steve, he'd never have the words.

Eddie's eyes soften, skimming the words again and again. The smile that graces his lips is tiny, a kind little thing Steve usually only sees on his face whenever he is around the nuggets, Max or Dustin usually.

"I can make that happen," Eddie says, honesty dripping from his words. It isn’t his usual, larger than life rambling. This is Eddie seeing him, really seeing him.

"What?" Steve asks, to diffuse the tension. A self-sabotaging little jab at their clear connection, because he actually thinks he knows exactly what Eddie means.

"I can adore you, big boy," Eddie says, and his playful spark was back. He winks, pulling Steve close by the shoulders. He gets both of them on Steve's bed. Steve's chest aches.

"Shut up," he says, because he doesn’t know how to accept something like this. Doesn’t know how to process that anyone would care, that anyone would pay attention.

Eddie rolls his eyes at him, flips them on the bed so he can straddle Steve's hips. Eddie traces the ink on his skin like it is precious. He kisses Steve hard, kisses his love into his lips, pushes it into his mouth like he does his tongue.

"I do adore you," Eddie says later, after they're both tired and spent and sated. After sex has made things fuzzier. It feels so simple now. It is so true.

"Eddie," Steve starts, ready to tell Eddie about all the ways in which he, Steve, is fucked up. Instead: "Thank you."

"Hey, I got you."

And Eddie does, he really does.

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddiesteve #steveeddie #eddie x steve #steve eddie #eddie steve #idk what this is #it just came to me in a fever #enjoy i guess hopefully #ficlet #might eventually crosspost this to AO3 #but i wanna post my real fic first #monstrius writing #monstrous bigboy

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scuderiadream · 7 months

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disconnected

reader x charles leclerc

𖧧 summary : charles, despite being a famous f1 driver sometimes would be overwhelmed by his reputation in the media, he eventually found a sweet escape and solace with his lover escaping from the chaos of the world

𖧧 faceclaim : sabrina carpenter

𖧧 author note : welcome backkk so for this one is short but its def sweet!! i think this gotta be one of my fav i’ve ever wrote and i recommend for u to listen “disconnected” by 5sos while listening to this, so happy reading peeps :))

ᝰ masterlist

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

꒰ inside yn’s private account ꒱

yourusername added to their story

yourbsfusername and 129 others liked your story!

liked by charles_leclerc, username and 729 others

yourusername life’s a tangled web 🕸️

view all 182 comments

yourbsfusername *hands u the adoption paper* sign here

↳ yourusername *signs the paper*

username god i’m not the strongest soldier please help me.

charles_leclerc are you a banana? because you look a-peeling

↳ yourusername that line reminds me of that one time you wore a banana costume

↳ carlossainz55 oh my god please send me the picture

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

charles_leclerc added to their story

꒰ twitter ꒱

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

after his post about soft launching his relationship of course people went crazy over it, the girlies were losing it.

his whole social media account was exploded by his many fans and many gossip accounts questioning who this “imaginary” or possibly new girlfriend.

due to so many people reluctantly keep asking him about his new girlfriend, he’s overwhelmed by the situation. he decided it’s for the best if he just disconnect from the world and run into his lover, yn’s arm.

yn is his getaway, his favorite place, whenever they’re alone together they put the world away and just enjoy each other’s company. hands around each other’s waist, sweet nothings whispers in their ears, soft kisses all over their faces.

those little moments they always appreciate and they don’t care what other people think. yn never mind if he’s a famous f1 driver that every girl fantasize about. charles doesn’t mind either if yn isn’t a famous model or influencer. all they care about is be in each other’s arm and savor every moment when they’re together.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒��𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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z0mbiefrank · 1 year

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Transcript for Marina Toybina on the Designing Hollywood podcast

I've seen a couple people searching for a transcript of her discussing Gerard Way's stage costumes, so I have made one! Feel free to share/link as a resource. Popular quotes are bolded.

Link to source video. MCR's section starts around 22 minutes in.

The transcript is beneath the cut.

Interviewer: Well now you’ve just finished working with My Chemical Romance, which is a band that I dig. Gerard Way is also a comic book writer and artist, created the Umbrella Academy. So, first of all, how did you get that job? Because there’s a design, I mean the look of that band and what they like to do, what they’re influenced by, they’re not just your typical rock band. So what was it like? How did you get that job? You designed the whole tour right?

Marina: I Collaborated with the lead singer, yes, with Gerard. Uhm, okay everything kinda has it’s place in time. About 15 years ago, 15 to 20 years ago, I was a huge fan. I’m a rock girl at heart, and back then a lot of their music was like music to my soul. It got me through some of the harder times. A lot of my friends were musicians. I never saw them live, never could afford to get to their shows, but knew one day in my heart there probably will be an opportunity, they were in like my top 5 favorite bands. He was an artist I’ve always wanted to work with. This past summer, while I was designing So You Think You Can Dance, I just happened to turn on their music - nope- let me rewind I'm so sorry. So a year ago I was reading a release that they're coming back together on tour and they're playing LA on my birthday. I looked at my team and I was like "I'm gonna be at that show. We're gonna go to the show, we're all gonna go together." And I just jokingly said “I'll probably dress them!” A lot of things in my career have happened to manifestation, I'm a huge believer in that. I think my intentions were so clear into the universe. I believed in it so much. That happened a year ago. Then this past summer, I was driving to work, I was listening to their music and I just happened to text my agent. I'm like “You know I really want to get back into music. It's what I used to do. I used to do a lot of live performances. I used to do a lot of music videos. I need to feel that again, even though I'm surrounded with music all the time and I'm doing all these shows. But there was a disconnect in my career, to where it's like I love live entertainment.” And she’s like “Who do you want? Like are we going after pop stars?” And I'm like “No I've done all that. I want to go back to my roots. I want like Incubus or My Chemical Romance or Red Hot Chili Peppers. Get me back to rock and roll.” And she was like “Well, you know, they're touring, but it's probably… I don’t know, let's put it out there.” Then within two weeks I get an email from her like “Hey their managers want to meet with you, he wants to meet with you.” One of the biggest things about their aesthetic is one of my probably top three costume designers, Colleen Atwood, did their black parade album and it was so incredible. Back then, I was always a step behind. It's like they did The Black Parade and then I met the photographer later. Then I worked on a project with him. So it was always like some better-late-than-never I guess. And I'm like “I'm gonna work with her someday, I love her work. I've been told by many people we're a lot alike.” You know? And I'm like “Why not?” And so we get this email “He would like to take a meeting, see what we can do.” I never expected to do a tour, I just wanted to open this door of opportunity, to just collaborate, maybe do one thing together. And he just showed up in my studio and it was just an amazing artistic energy.

Interviewer: Were you starstruck?

Marina: I was trying to hold it together. I mean before they came in, I can't tell you how much I paced. Usually, there's like 15 - 20 people at my studio. This was the time and day that I was alone. I didn't know what to do. Of course, my expectations were just to present myself and see if I would be a good asset to them because I love their music and I love what he's about. Also, it’s not just the frontman for me, I think he's a brilliant artist. So there's a lot of things. I just wanted our worlds to merge somehow. Within the first five minutes of our conversation, I'm like “Oh I get his brain.” I told them my story. I told him that this is like 20 years in the making. You know, I probably sound like a crazy-fan costume designer. But we share ideas, he walked me through the concepts of things he wants to do on this particular tour and they haven't started doing the US leg of the tour. I didn't know if they had a designer. Then he did mention Colleen was doing something for him and I was like “Okay, how - can this be a triangle? You know? Can I come in in the picture?” It was just a beautiful collaboration. It was a genuine artist to artist conversation. Like “Let's do something interesting.” He walked me through his concepts, his ideas and I'm like “Alright well, let me come up with some creatives, see if we're on the same page.” Again, as much as I wanted to be like “Hey we're doing this tomorrow!” I also felt like it's important now in my career and possibly in his, to make sure the relationship is good, that this is the right artistic match to one another and… it worked! From there it was just amazing fittings, amazing collaboration and some iconic things that went viral!

Interviewer: I love hearing this from you because this is like the joyous experience of 'oh my god I dreamt of working with somebody and you finally get to do it'. But I want to take you back to that because I'm curious. How would that process even begin? You're working with somebody that you already know their music, you already know his vibe. And Colleen Atwood, who I've interviewed by the way, on the show, she's incredible. Our interview had to - she was in the middle of a work day, so it was only it was a short interview. But how does a collaboration like that work with somebody like Gerard Way? How do you guys start working together? How is that process?

Marina: For us, it was just like an initial conversation. I introduced myself, my work. They already did some background checking up to see where I stand, what my aesthetic was like. And I felt I was in a place in my life, in my career, where I was able to bring something new. That's where my confidence I think came from. At the same time I didn't want to change the artist that's in front of me. I think that's always so important for me when working with music. You're dealing with a fan base, and a reputation, an aesthetic approach that's far beyond any artistic reach of anybody new coming in. So for me it was having a conversation, understanding what characters he wanted to bring forward. This was a very playful tour. This wasn't about dressing up the whole band. This was about him being in this world of iconic characters. And how can we bring this to life? What can we do that's still very recognizable to his fans but at the same time a little bit of a shock value? But at the same time, I wanted him to be him, you know? He was in this beautiful place in his life and career where he felt great and felt confident and I just wanted to uplift that. We did our creative decks, went through the conversations of which characters we wanted to go with, these are the shows that he had. I knew which city, we kind of wanted to play off where was the right time. Halloween was right around the corner, what do we do? So it was like very strategic conversations but at the same time so much room to play and be creative. So I just gathered the top 10 characters that we had discussed and kind of started doing my own thing, and keeping him and the music in mind. Had an amazing fitting. I've never worked with an artist that's so clear. It was not just directional and very precise and very distinct on his own style, but it was clear for me when we were doing fittings, this is somebody that knows his body. This is somebody who knows his aesthetic on stage. This is somebody that knows how they're going to perform. So it just made it so much easier for me to be able to fall into his world and do the fittings like “Is this going to come off? Is this piece staying on? Are we going to do options? Is the character going to evolve on stage? Is the character going to come down on stage?” So all those conversations happen in our fittings and then I just packed it all up, with distinct notes, send them off, and then kept checking in, making sure everything was okay.

Interviewer: So when you had a direction for the characters, were you doing sketches first?

Marina: No, not at all. This was something that I felt like needed to have the research. It wasn't just about designing something on paper. When he mentioned to me “I wanted to be a vintage cheerleader” I'm like “Okay, what era are we in? 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 40’s?” and then he was like “Find me something that's within possibly this color scheme.” The image that went viral when he did wear the cheer uniform, it was probably like 10 different vintage stores that we went to. And I'm like “Okay everything's size zero.” or like “What am I gonna do? This stuff doesn't exist anymore. If I get it from Etsy it's not going to come in time.” There's like so much and it happened to be as we were leaving one of the stores I looked on a sale rack and I saw this damaged, weird, vintage cheer dress that had no zipper, that had no hem. And I was like “I love this! I love this because I can reconstruct it. I can go and get the fabrics that we need to still keep it original and authentic. And that's how we start working. I build out a mannequin his size at my studio, put it on, we reshaped it, took the whole thing apart, reconstructed it to be his measurements, and still kept it authentic. After he wore it, the pattern for the actual thing was sold out. Fans loved it so much that we were getting notifications that people actually found the original pattern of this 1940s uniform and were buying it out.

Interviewer: That's crazy, okay!

Marina: Oh it's amazing! I think, to me, that's when things are just meant to be. When not only did my work translate into something beautiful on stage, but then he becomes this incredible persona on stage that then delivers the character and plays it off. We did that throughout every single look. Every single look when it became a fan favorite or craze.

Interviewer: In terms of time, what was the process when you first got the gig and then to the first show that was performing using your work? What was the time frame?

Marina: I think I had about a month to get it all together.

Interviewer: Wow! That’s not much!

Marina: Yeh and at the same time, I had another huge project in the works so it was going back and forth. But I could not tell you, I've had difficult projects in the past, I've had difficult times with artists, or finding our own language, or how to execute some things. This was so easy that time didn't matter to me. It was such a great collaboration, it flowed, like Bruce Lee would say, like water. It just made sense and no matter how difficult my other project was or what was going on at the same time, it was like oh this is the universe showing me this is how it's supposed to be. This is what's inspiring me. And at the end of the day, the one thing I told Gerard was “You made me fall in love with music again. You came into my life as an artist that I've admired and wanted to work with for almost 20 years. There was a big part of my beginning that made me look back at this now and be like “Oh that's what. That was that feeling that I had when I was 16 or 20.”

#my chemical romance #gerard way #marina toybina #mcr #my chem #designing hollywood podcast #let me know if i should change anything #ive never done a transcript before but i hope it helps!!#resource #transcript #op #interviews #costume design #cheerleader

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klonnieshippersclub · 3 months

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so do you think bonnie needs kids to be happy??

Bonnie doesn’t need kids to be happy. No one needs kids to be happy. Not everyone wants to have kids. But Bonnie does say she wanted the life they Caroline was having with Stefan. Which was having a home, a boyfriend, kids, and a family. She wanted to have something to come home too. She was tired of being alone in the world.

Unlike characters like Hayley, Caroline and Elena. This was the only time Bonnie ever admitted to wanting a future that had nothing to do with anyone else from Mystic Falls.

All Bonnie has ever wanted is family. She immediately wanted to go with Lucy after just meeting her. Despite loving her friends, that connection doesn't feel the same. It makes sense for Bonnie to want to settle down one day and have a family of her own. Children are part of that dream. She's more than just a good friend and a powerful witch. She'd want to create a happy home as a mother. Is having kids a necessity? No but it's what she wants and would make her happy.

Bonnie’s relationship with her mother is strained. Abby never wanted to stay with her or check in unless she’s forced. Rudy kept busy with work and her last memory of him was dying in front of her. Grams is gone. Bonnie’s alone and she didn’t want to stay that way. If the other women could want more for themselves. Why shouldn’t Bonnie? She already spent 8 seasons fixing and caring for her friends. What is the difference if they’re related to her?

TVD writers were able to write an entire five-season-spin-off around the Mikaelson’s, give two seasons around the Gemini coven, and give us six seasons of Liz Forbes. All of those characters are white. The storylines and push for the one black family weren’t there. They written Bonnie to be so disconnected from them and it’s bullshit.

So if Bonnie fans in any way are creating more family for Bonnie. Changing up their lore to sound like a family and not women playing servitude then YES I’m for it.

#bonnie bennett #the vampire diaries #tvd #Tvd meta #rikkisinbox #anon ask

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clementine-kesh · 11 months

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as someone who has a passing interest in fandom as a field of academic study i’ve noticed a disconnect in terms of how fans approach fan spaces + their perceptions of themselves and how academics do. a lot of people who participate in fandom see their behavior as existing in a vacuum, a means of escapism removed from real life. whereas what academics are interested in is the exact opposite of that, they’re interested in how fanworks and fan behaviour reflect social trends on scales from tiny internet communities to greater society. because humans are social creatures and as much as we might all want to feel like we’re fully unbiased people making our own independent decisions for perfectly justifiable reasons it’s actually quite difficult to disentangle our thoughts and opinions from the societies in which we were raised.

take podcast fandoms, for instance. choosing to draw a character with little-to-no canon description as a skinny white twink might seem like a neutral decision, but when the majority of artists are doing so it says something about what we perceive as the “default” human being! or, y’know, i’ve joked about academic studies on omegaverse before but it really is an interesting expression of various biological anxieties.

anyways, i do think this lack of self-awareness within fan spaces is a little funny, especially when it comes to stuff like people talking about how archiving fan works is important for academic study (true!). like, it’s not because there’s any literary merit to most of it it’s because academics want to study it like a bug. you might think you’re just some guy but everything you do is a reflection and reaction to the society around you and that includes your 100k kirk/spock mpreg fic

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adorethedistance · 8 months

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First Meet - Jamie Drysdale x Reader

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing? very PG meet cute

Words: 1020

Summary: First meet - having a meet-cute with Jamie Drysdale in a smoothie shop.

A/n: In an attempt to make up for me being gone for two months, I give you the first installment of the series of firsts. Some other firsts coming soon: first date, first I love you, and first time.

“A seagull is not a predator!” My best friend Chelsea argues as we enter the Jamba Juice of the spectrum center. The line is longer than we’re used to since this is the first time we’ve been here on a Sunday, but the wait doesn’t deter us and we stand patiently in line while we argue.

“What do you mean?! They literally eat fish.”

“Well, yeah. But they’re diving for bites from the ocean, they’re not hunting schools of fish!” She fights back growing increasingly more agitated and amused. The conversation only gets louder as we finally step into the smoothie shop. The long line of other less passionate conversations in tandem with the volume of the blenders has us shouting over the rest of the shop.

“What difference does it make!” I screech out of frustration, unsure of why Chelsea and I are having such a huge disconnect over the issue. We’re furious with each other but we’re also failing not to laugh at the ridiculous nature of the conversation.

“It makes a huge difference actually!” Chelsea huffs a sigh through her undefeated smile.

“Look, all I’m saying is that any animal can be a predator, it just has to try hard enough!” My declaration is immediately followed by a hearty laugh, but not from Chelsea. Turning around, I look over my right shoulder to see a boy around our age, waiting by the end of the counter for his order to be completed. The high contrast of his flowing dark hair and fair complexion is captivating, and a soft ocean blue shimmers in his kind eyes.

“Sorry,” He says earnestly, though he’s still smiling. I exhale a small laugh before replying,

“It’s okay. The argument was ridiculous to begin with,” throwing the pointed comment at Chelsea whose eyebrows raise in shock.

“Yeah. It is. So just give in already!”

“Oh my god. You see what I have to put up with?” I comment on her stubbornness, causing the stranger to laugh once more, and he nods knowingly.

“I feel that. He’s the exact same way,” he says, gesturing to the boy next to him. The comment causes him to turn around, light brown hair flipping with the sharp movement. His friend is cute and all but I find myself still enraptured in the first stranger’s eyes.

“Dibs.” I hear Chelsea softly whisper behind me in reference to the dark haired boy’s friend.

“I’m Y/n, by the way,” I say amicably to the first boy. He smiles softly and extends me his hand to shake.

“Jamie.” Jamie. “And this is Trevor.” Trevor reaches out to shake my hand also but I’m ushered away as Chelsea steps in. I hold in a laugh as best I can, shaking my head in an amused disbelief. Good for her.

“Chelsea. Nice to meet you guys.”

“Are you guys from Cali?” Trevor asks her to strike up conversation.

“I am, but she isn’t. I take it you guys aren’t from here?”

“What gave me away?” Trevor squints with a laugh. Chelsea is visibly charmed and laughs along with him.

“No one from California calls it Cali,” I answer. Jamie laughs sheepishly, a soft blush creeping across his cheeks. He’s so cute.

“I’m from Toronto,” he replies simply and my ears perk up.

“Toronto’s nice. Are you hockey fans?” I ask, using some of the very little information I know about Canada. The two boys laugh and share a knowing glance.

“You could say that.” Trevor answers smugly. The comment strikes me as odd and I cross my arms defensively to jeer,

“Why are you laughing?”

“We play hockey professionally.” My lips part in a mild shock.

“And you make money doing that?” I ask, incredulously.

“You could say that.” Trevor shrugs and then asks Chelsea about the necklace she’s wearing, though it’s clear he’s only staring at her cleavage. Idiot. I return my attention to Jamie and smile.

“What do you like to do in your free time? Other than hitting on girls in smoothie shops.” Jamie laughs sheepishly once more. The raucous whirring of the juicers makes the shop a loud environment for conversation; he subconsciously steps closer to me to hear better.

“Well, I was learning guitar for a little bit.”

“How’d that go?”

“Pretty terrible, not gonna lie.” Jamie and I laugh over the confession.

“Did you learn any songs or just chords?”

“I tried to learn a song but it wasn’t going so well.”

“That’s a shame. What song?”

“In case you didn’t know by Brett Young.”

“In case you didn’t know,” I sing in the worst pseudo-country accent I could manage, “That one?”

Jamie laughs hard, nodding yes as his nose scrunches and his eyes fall closed. I laugh at his reaction, although I’m trying to hold it together. “Why are you laughing?” I feign ignorance and he laughs harder.

“Oh my god, that caught me so off guard.”

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

“That’s one way to put it. You’re cute.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” I fake challenge, crossing my arms over my chest as if I’m contemplating fighting him. Jamie merely pulls out his phone and hands it to me to text myself. It’s at this point that I have a moment to tune back in to Chelsea and trevor.

“Oh you’re doing numbers?” She comments from her vantage point and I laugh out of slight embarrassment.

“Maybe.” I say, playing coy to Chelsea, but I can tell Jamie’s taking me literally. “Here.”

Jamie takes the phone back to look at the sent message. In handing over the phone, the tips of his fingers brushed mine and the gesture ignites butterflies in my stomach.

“Y/n,” He recites gently, smiling at the screen that displays the new text conversation. I bite back a smile at the sound of my name on his tongue, and nod softly.

“Yo, Jimmy, we gotta go.” Trevor calls over the noise of the smoothie shop. He nods in acknowledgement before looking back at me with a small smile.

“I’ll text you?”

“Don’t forget it.”

***

A/n: this is just a little blurb but there's more to come. I have exams right now but once they're done I'll be back!

#Jamie Drysdale #Jamie Drysdale fanfiction #Jamie Drysdale fanfic #Jamie Drysdale fic #Jamie Drysdale imagine #Jamie Drysdale oneshot #Jamie Drysdale one shot #Jamie Drysdale x reader #Jamie Drysdale x y/n #Jamie Drysdale smut #Jamie Drysdale fluff #Jamie Drysdale angst #Jamie Drysdale blurb #Jamie Drysdale drabble #Jamie Drysdale hc #Jamie Drysdale headcanon #trevor zegras #Trevor Zegras #Platonic!Trevor

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rubinaitoart · 3 months

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There’s a lot going on here that I frankly don’t have the energy to cover, but here’s some food for thought.

I’ve been thinking about the current state of the fandom, and the actions Dorian has been taking. It’s been putting me off because for the most part, there’s a gray area in which fandom operates in any piece of media; and Dorian is effectively meddling with that gray area in a way that is driving fans away. It’s been bothering me on a level I couldn’t really put my finger on.

And then I remembered, Dorian may be the copyright holders and owners of the game. But they aren’t the creators. This is where the disconnect is, and why they’re overstepping.

Legally they are within their right to do (most of) of what they are doing. It’s cruddy and violates a lot of the unspoken rules that exist between the fans and the creators, but they can do it. It’s very obvious that it’s targeted right now but that’s an entirely different topic that I don’t think I can comfortably discuss.

It’s interesting because there is another fandom I know of that is seeing (if it hasn’t concluded already) a slightly similar problem. The Undertale fandom has recently flocked around a fan game, Undertale Yellow—which used music from the original game. As far as I’m aware, the creator—Toby Fox—was fine with it. However, the copyright holders were not. Materium Music’s CEO did not want to allow the release of UTY’s album on YouTube and other streaming services even though Toby Fox approved of it. The soundtrack had many original elements but reused motifs and other fragments from Undertale’s soundtrack.

Sound familiar?

But while UTY had the original creator helping fight for their rights as fan creators, we do not. And so the copyright holders, Dorian, are doing what they can to protect the assets they own with very little thought for the creations outside of their own platform. The time and effort that goes into creating. The beautiful dedication to the game that, while they own, they did not create and as such they cannot appreciate it fully.

#the arcana #the arcana game #dorian live #dorian discourse #dorian era #rubin rambles

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prying-pandora666 · 8 months

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On the Disconnect Between ATLA and LOK: Or Why Reactionary Centrism Ruins Everything

I’ve made it no secret that I’m no fan of LOK’s writing for a number of reasons. But today I want to focus on only one issue: its politics.

I am baffled as to why LOK is seen as being the more “woke” story. Just because the protagonist is a buff brown woman with a female love interest (only implied until the comics, really)? This is such an incredibly shallow reading focusing only on aesthetics and ignores the actual content and philosophies LOK espouses.

But let’s not get into religion, iconography, the effects of colonialism and westernization etc, or we’ll be here forever.

Instead let’s just focus on the politics.

The Forge

Part of the disconnect between ATLA and LOK are the cultural conditions in the USA when both were made. The forge from whence they came was quite different.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

ATLA criticized imperialism.

If this show had been made during the height of Manifest Destiny, or during our super fun times illegally annexing territories (like Hawaii), it would’ve likely struggled to tell its story as well as it did. It would’ve been far more controversial and likely would’ve needed to take a more “centrist” approach, making it seem like imperialism isn’t “all that bad”.

It might have even come out and said that it isn’t imperialism itself that is the problem, but that Sozin to Ozai were big mean dictators that did it the wrong way!

But because ATLA came out in the 2000s—during a time in which the world had widely come around to thinking imperialism is kinda some super villain schtick—it was easy for the story to focus on the perspective of the victims of such campaigns and tell it from this point of view.

We don’t get long segments of feeling sorry for Ozai, now do we? The closest we get is Azula, who herself serves as a victim of this war that has consumed her childhood and deprived her of a safe, loving environment in which to grow and develop, instead having been groomed into a living weapon for her father and nation’s war machine.

So now let’s compare this to LOK.

The Legend of Korra

What does the first season of LOK cover? Collectivism, social activism, civil disobedience escalating to acts of violent defiance against the state.

What was going on in the USA in 2012 when LOK came out?

Occupy Wallstreet.

Socialism vs capitalism, the 99% versus the 1%, civil rights and equality; these are all issues we are still grappling with today. They’re highly politicized and divisive. There is no universal agreement about them.

And so LOK had no “safe” villain or “evil” ideology to combat. Instead it had a complicated and widely divisive topic to tackle that was contentious then and continues to be today.

As a result? Too much time is wasted equivocating.

Both Sides Are The Same! (But Not Really)

We get some soft worldbuilding early on in Book 1 of LOK showing how the infrastructure of this city is built to benefit benders and box out non-benders, but this is never given real focus. We SEE how the trains and police are dominated by earth/metal benders, we SEE how factory jobs employ lightning benders, while non-benders live in the slums which subject them to violence. But none of this is ever the focus or the point.

Almost as if the show is afraid to make a real critique from the perspective of the working class or an oppressed minority group.

Instead the story quickly falls off a cliffside as every tired old pejorative thrown at communists is recycled for Amon.

His sympathetic backstory is a complete fabrication meant to hide that he is actually part of the oppressor class.

They pretend to be the powerless oppressed group, and yet have the funding of the richest industrialist in the city?

The rich industrialist is a member of this supposedly oppressed class but really he’s just a secret villain looking to change the world for his own personal reasons and not to protect his fellow nonbenders (these same accusations are thrown at Jewish people re: Marxism).

There are no sincere attempts to communicate their grievances sympathetically or build a coalition or garner public support. Instead The Equalists only use violence, fear, and other oppressive silencing tactics.

The desire to make everyone equal by “stealing” people’s individuality. (The old “make everyone equal heights by cutting tall people’s legs down” chestnut).

And more!

This is kinda bonkers propaganda if you’re looking at it from a left-wing perspective, right?

And it seems weirdly incoherent if you’re trying to look at it from a right-wing perspective, especially with Tarrlok standing in as the villain “on the other side”.

But it makes PERFECT sense as an enlightened centrist horseshoe-theory piece that can’t commit to either side and has to warp and undermine its own story to fit a “both sides are wrong” message. Heck, it’s so heavy handed it even made Amon and Tarrlok brothers!

This is the problem that plagues all of LOK.

Look at the other villains too!

Amon: Civil Rights Activist or Bad Faith Opportunist?

Amon

Pretends to be: A civil rights activist for an oppressed minority group.

Is actually: A bad faith actor whipping up a small or non-issue into a much bigger one and convincing people to turn on each other for his own personal gain/revenge. Once defeated, the problem disappears.

Electing a non-bender somehow makes everyone happy and the problem is never addressed again. Just like electing Obama ended racism! Oh wait…

Unalaq: Spiritual Environmentalist or Environmental Satanist?

Unalaq

Pretends to be: A spiritualist concerned about the environment and the spirits. Basically Al Gore meets Tenzin Gyatso but willing to start a civil war over it.

Is actually: An occultist weirdo who wants to fuse with LITERALLY SATAN and usher in 10,000 years of darkness or something, and willing to start a war over it.

In an attempt to make a spiritual foil for Korra, who struggled with the spiritual parts of being the Avatar, the story took a weird turn and made a choice widely regarded as “fanfiction on crack” by having Unalaq aspire to become “The Dark Avatar”.

But it’s okay, you see, because while Unalaq’s criticisms of waning spirituality and lack of protection of holy sites could be seen as a knock against environmentalism, by the end Korra recognizes that Unalaq had a point and that the spirit portals should be left open.

So why exactly did Unalaq want to be the Dark Avatar and usher in an era of darkness? How was that supposed to resolve the problem he presented and Korra ended up agreeing with?

It doesn’t, and once again we are left with a contradictory centrist message of “protecting the environment is good but you should be suspicious of anyone that actually advocates for it”.

Also thanks for demystifying the origin of the Avatar and ruining the original lore for where bending came from with your Prometheus/Christian allegory. Ugh.

Zaheer: Spiritual Guru Fighting Against Modernity or A Charismatic Dummy Who Learned Everything About Anarchy From a Prager U Coloring Book

Zaheer

Pretends to be: An anarchist seeking to bring down oppressive regimes, therefor resetting the world to a more egalitarian time

Is actually: An idiot who doesn’t even know the difference between an ancom and an ancap and has no coherent ideology. He just wants chaos, I guess, which isn’t whah anarchy or anything is about.

Perhaps realizing they messed up so badly with Unalaq that even the creators were unhappy with the results, they attempted the spiritual foil idea again with Zaheer.

This time they actually had a writing staff which makes this season the agreed upon best of LOK.

But the tip-toeing around making any actual criticisms and falling back on the “both sides are bad” cop-out are only exacerbated by how uninformed and nonsensical Zaheer’s actions are. Not unlike Amon, he takes none of the steps an actual activist would take. He never even speaks to the people of Ba Sing Se to find out what they need or want. He just kills their leader, announces it, refuses to elaborate, then bounces and lets the city tear itself apart in the power vacuum.

It’s an entertaining spectacle! Just like his later torture of Korra is visceral. But none of it has any real substance to support it and so the horrific acts he commits feel like senseless edgelord tantrums.

Even Bolin knows it. Once Zaheer is defeated, Bolin shoves a sock in his mouth, therefor cementing Bolin as my favorite of the Krew for all time.

Kuvira: Literal Nazi or Literal Nazi but she didn’t mean it!

Kuvira

Pretends to be: A fascist, putting people in labor camps and uses the equivalent of an atom bomb to crush her enemies under heel in the name of unifying the continent under her control.

Is actually: All of those things but she had good intentions! She just went too far! Give her a slap on the wrists because her and Korra aren’t so different, you see!

Perhaps the most bizarre writing choice was to make the fascist the only truly sympathetic villain of this series. The reasons become quite clear, however, when we recognize one thing.

Yes, she’s styled after the Nazis.

Yes, her actions in modern day are more reminiscent of Russia.

But who is the only nation to have ever used a weapon of mass destruction on the level of the atom bomb? The USA.

And here is where the unwillingness to make a bold criticism or take a hard controversial stance is the most apparent.

Kuvira acts like a fascist and has a lot of Nazi-vibes, but she is also a grim reminder of the USA’s own imperial history. Of our flippant use of a horrifying technology that still continues to have consequences for the descendants of the victims even today. It is one of the worst violations of human rights and decency in history. And the USA is the only nation to have ever actually used one.

So if you ever feel it’s weird that Kuvira was arguably the worst of the villains but got off with only house arrest and a happy ending with hugs from her family? You’re not alone. Kuvira has to be “not that bad” or else you’re critiquing the USA itself. And that is a level of controversy this franchise doesn’t seem interested in dipping it’s toes into.

It’s the reason they equivocate and justify by having the Earth Prince step down and choose democracy. This isn’t an East Asian ideal. This wouldn’t have been a popular or virtuous choice in that time period. Many would’ve regarded it as tyranny of the majority, or a disorganized chaos without a consistent central authority.

It’s only seen as the perfect solution in the Democratic West. So you see, it’s not so bad, because at least we have democracy! We aren’t as bad as Kuvira who really isn’t all that bad either! Or so the narrative tries to apologize for itself.

And this is even more apparent with everyone’s problematic fav!

Varrick: How Elon Musk Wants Us To View Him vs What Elon Musk Wishes He Was

Varrick!

Is presented as: A quirky, funny, Tony Stark-esque genius who made a mistake and deserves a redemption!

Is actually: A war-profiteer willing to escalate tensions and shed the blood of his own people with no remorse to make money. Also he builds the equivalent of the atom bomb for Kuvira and her allegorical Nazis. But he gets a happy ending with a weirdly westernized wedding anyway!

Isn’t it telling that the villain who is written to be the most loveable and sympathetic is, in fact, the capitalist industrialist?

And not like that yucky evil industrialist Hiroshi Sato funding the Equalists and their civil rights movement.

No, no! Varrick is the good kind of industrialist! The kind that is non-political and mostly cares about money and inventions! After all, he only built a weapon of mass destruction for the Nazis, not the civil rights protestors!

Which brings us to…

Our Civilized Poverty vs their Savage Poverty!

And hey, that’s fair because look at the differences between Republic City and Ba Sing Se!

Sure, both had destitute populations starving and without proper shelter due to the disconnected elite leaders who didn’t care about their plight.

But the homeless people of Republic City are presented as jolly and helpful and never state a single grievance even as they live in a tent city underground! Everyone knows that democratic poverty is better! Therefor Sato was totally unjustified in funding an equality movement!

The poor people of BSS, on the other hand, are victims of that mean old non-democratic Earth Queen and later of the power vacuum left by her assassination, therefor their plight is ACTUALLY horrific. Kuvira may have been bad but she and Varrick are justified because of the unAmerican conditions!

Looking at it this way, so many of LOK’s problems fall into place. It perhaps serves as lesson in not tackling complex problems with the intention of a clean solution unless you’re willing to take a controversial stance and stick to your convictions.

I don’t think the creators intended to make a libertarian criticism of every social movement and apologia for capitalism and fascism. It’s just a sad reflection of what is and isn’t controversial in our current society. Divorced from actual morality or perspective.

What a waste.

This Post Brought To You By: Viewers Like You! (or: Check out this thing I made)

All that said, if you want a well-written and more adult take on the ATLA universe, check out the Kyoshi and Yangchen novels! F. C. Yee doesn’t pull any punches and perfectly balanced the darker, more visceral elements an adult story can have, with expert worldbuilding and humanized characters that feel believable even when they’re in fantastical situations.

Or if you want more ATLA instead, kindly check out @book4air: A project creating a pseudo Book 4 using both the official comics and original materials, fully dubbed, orchestrated, and partially animated by industry pros who happen to be fans!

Some comics are getting rewrites too, so whether you love the comics and want a fresh take, or hate the comics and want a change, we are doing our best to make this accessible for everyone including people with disabilities who may not be able to enjoy the originals.

Check out our first episode here!

If you can afford to, consider supporting us on Patreon! Every episode is expensive to produce and we are a bunch of broke artists. Some which don’t even have consistent or reliable housing. Any little bit helps.

If you can’t, no worries! You can still help by spreading the word so our videos can overcome the YouTube algorithm.

With all my love for this franchise and its fandom, I hope you all continue to enjoy your favs regardless of my criticisms.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar #Legend of korra #lok #book 4 air restoration project

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futbol16 · 1 year

Text

I’m Proud Of You • Alexia Putellas

This was quite challenging because I can’t watch the third part of her documentary and because I wasn’t sure how and what perspective to write this from. I don’t know if I’m happy with how this turned out, but I hope I managed to do alright, enjoy!

Request: Hey i don't know if you are taking requests at the moment. If not just leave it in your inbox or give it to another writer but i have an idea and if i don't send it so someone I might forget it. So i just finished Alexias documentary and was wondering if someone could write a fic about some moments where reader appears in Alexias documentary, of course cause shes her girlfriend.

Word count: 1,7k

“Hola, mi amor!” you walk into the living room and lean down to kiss Alexia’s head.

“Hola bebé” she smiles up at you before pulling you down to settle on the couch next to her.The two of you relax together, play with Nala and eat lunch just four hours before the quarter finals of the champions league.

“I’ll be honest with you, I didn’t see my daughter take the field because we were late to the match. Barcelona stood still, streets were packed and so we couldn’t get there in time.” Eli, Alexia’s mother, spoke into the camera. Her and the younger Putellas hurried into the stadium, the chanting of the fans audible as they climbed the stairs.

“Do you think she noticed?” she asked as they took their seats.

“Of course she has. But don’t worry about it, Y/N probably talked to her and she’s okay” Alba reassured their mother who nodded with a smile.

“She’s good to her”

“Sí mami”

“I remember I had goosebumps the whole game, you know with the adrenaline of playing and wanting to win and then looking up into the stands to see such a massive amount of people there, you know, supporting us, a women's game. It was a very special night”

You chuckled as you told the camera crew, a smile gracing you thought back to the champions league quarter finals against Real Madrid. The build up of the game, Aitana equalizing, yourself scoring as well as Alexia and the cheering of the fans as Barca won the match.

“I didn't know anything that was going on in the stands, i was focused on we have to pass, we have to win, i didn't hear anything.” Alexia spoke truthfully.

“And then the final whistle was blown and I stood there for a moment, looking around seeing the happy faces of my teammates and everyone in the stands was happy and then Y/N pulled me into her she was like, “you hear that? They’re cheering for you” You looked out into the crowd as you held the midfielder close to you, the two of you then congratulating your teammates.

“You know, it was one of those ‘we made it’ moments.”

“They were not leaving, the match was over and they spent an hour celebrating.” Xavi said with a laugh.

“I have never seen Alexia so out of sorts. But in the end you can only enjoy it” Mapi smiled at the memory.

The three of you banged on the drums one of the fans brought with them, the rest singing and jumping around in ecstasy. There were very few moments in your life where you remember feeling so at ease and happy, watching the celebrations again brought tears to your eyes. Alexia looked down at you from her place on the couch and with a kiss to your forehead she held you tighter as you continued watching her documentary.

“You have to take a break from football sometimes Ale, so how do you disconnect?” Alexia’s physiotherapist was massaging her leg as he spoke to her.

“I don’t know”

“You can’t just always be thinking about football”

“I do, I don’t really know how to not.”

He paused for a moment “Does Y/n help you disconnect? Relax?”

“Sí, sí. She helps a lot.”

“How does she help?” he asked curiously, though with a knowing smile as Alexia started explaining with a tone full of affection.

“She’ll pull me away and be like, “Let’s go on a walk” “Let’s watch a movie” or “Eli wants to see us, I’ll drive”.”

“You should listen to her more” he laughs, Alexia soon joining in as she agrees.

“She says that all the time too!”

You watch intently as the clips from France play, the ones where Alexia won her first BallonD’or and you hold your breath as you recognize which part of the documentary would be next. After all, you were there when she talked about it.

“Since my father’s death, my dedication to football has changed. And well.. I wanted to make this worthwhile. For him too.” Alexia’s voice cracks as she tries not to cry, ultimately failing. You remember sitting next to the camera crew as your leg bounced up and down, you hated seeing Alexia struggle so much and not be able to be there next to her.

“Can I go now?” your voice was heard, an impatient tone and you didn’t wait for their approval before you moved over to where Alexia sat. She makes space for you as you take her into your arms and whisper comforting words to her as she tries to calm herself. You continue to hold her for the rest of the clip as she talks about her father and leaving Levante.

Glancing up at Alexia you notice her eyes welling up as she watches the scene in front of her and much like then, you wipe her tears as you whisper to her.

The prideful look on your face is hard to miss as your girlfriend talks about how she got recruited for Barcelona and you watch with a wide smile as she speaks, videos of her younger self playing on the screen.

“I got a call: “Im Xavi Llorens, I don't know about your plans, but you should know we're interested in having you play for barca.” I remember saying “In the first team?” He said “ yes, in the first team.” That's when I signed for Barca” Alexia said.

“Did you meet each other there, you and Y/n?” the interviewer wondered, though he wasn’t shown on camera.

“Yes, at Barca. She was already on the team when they signed me. First I was a bit intimidated, you know, a player younger than me on the first team? But then Xavi talked to us, he said “I can see the two of you will be very important players for the future of Barca” and we’ve been teammates since”

“How old were you then?”

“18, I was 18.”

You laugh at that. She’s never told you this before and to hear her admitting to be intimidated by you, you found it quite funny.

“You were scared of me?” you ask her with a cheeky grin, one eyebrow raised in a teasing manner. She gently shoves at your shoulder.

“I was in awe of you, you were a damn menace, you still are” she corrects you and she goes to playfully push you again when you keep grinning at her, instead you pull her with you as you lay on the length of the couch, a giggle leaving Alexia’s lips.

“It’s okay, you can just say you were scared of me” you joke, laughing when she digs her fingers into your sides.

You continue watching the documentary in a comfortable silence and soon the topic is once again on the champions league semifinal and final. You breathe in deeply as the emotions resurface, losing to Wolfsburg first. You glance down at the brunette in your arms as the Alexia in the documentary talks about how she pushed away everyone for a little bit, her manager saying they needed to work on that before your face appeared on the screen.

“She’s obsessed with football, her dedication is admirable.” you paused “But she often forgets that one loss doesn’t defy her, especially not if we’ve played 47 victorious matches before that”

“She said that?” Alexia lightly laughed. “She’s just as obsessed with football, if anyone’s admirable it’s Y/N, seriously.”

“Do you isolate yourself after every loss? Of course, when you lose, it doesn’t happen often” the interviewer chuckles as he asks.

“Usually I’d want to be alone after a loss, but Y/N is there, she wouldn’t leave me”

“And is that good for you? Or would you rather, you know, stay with your own thoughts-”

“No, no I need Y/N there or I go insane” she answered with a nod, though she managed a lighthearted smile.

Eventually the documentary comes to an end with one question asked.

“Did you ever think Alexia couldn’t do it?”

“There were times when I questioned if she’d exhaust herself before she could, but she always proved that wrong.” Mapi said truthfully.

“No, as a mother I don’t think you’re allowed to think that way, but no, I always knew if she wanted something she’d work hard for it”

“Wow, that’s a very vague question..No, honestly I knew she wouldn’t have stopped until she’d get there, get to the finish line, win the game, win that trophy” you said. “I believed in her and she believed in herself. And look at where she’s now? She’s arguably the best female player and she’s not done yet.”

“Mi amor” Alexia’s choked whisper breaks you out of your staring at the TV and you look down to see her crying.

“Ale? What happened?” you ask with a worried face. She smiles through her tears as you reach for her face, gently ridding her of the tear drops. However, as you gaze into her eyes you recognize the look she’s giving you and you relax knowing that these weren’t sad tears.

A smile tugs at your lips as you praise her, your voice coming out in your own quiet whispers as to not break the moment.

“I’m so proud of you Alexia. So so proud of you mi corazón” if the genuinity in your eyes wasn’t enough, or the tone of your voice, you called her Alexia let her know that you meant what you were saying. You only ever called her full name when you were serious about something.

You’re pulled into a hard and passionate kiss, love bursting in both your chests as you soak in the feeling of each other. She eventually pulls away breathlessly and you lean your foreheads together as you smile at each other fondly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you Y/N”

“Don’t say that Ale”

“No, I’m being honest. I couldn’t go a day without you amor, not if I tried and I don’t want to.” she nods to you as you take in her words and it’s now your turn to cry.

“Te amo mucho mi vida”

“Te amo tanto” she mutters on your lips before kissing you again.

#alexia putellas imagine #futbol16 #woso imagine #woso x reader

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