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randombush3 · 2 months

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(extremely talented, creative) stalker

alexia putellas x reader

based on this and a poem from when i was little. i chose alexia because she fit the character more and i rushed this immensely because i was being pestered for attention by multiple creatures. oh and i went for something decently light-hearted bc these hozier fics have been affecting my soul and ruining my spotify daylists.

happy monday people x

p.s. not proof-read because it's lunchtime and i'm hungry (edit: i just did my proof-read now and i've realised that it was in fact not lunchtime??? it was past lunchtime and i was just zoned out!)

Alexia doesn’t care much for art. Sure, she admires the effort, the time such talent sits behind a canvas and marks something that was once blank until others begin to value it. She agrees with the masses about the beauty of quaint watercolour paintings of the coast, and she lets Mapi rave about charcoal and graphite and oils as if she understands what is so special about the varying media.

She knows she is only here today because the art is about sports. The gallery seems almost reluctant to allow the athletes in, worried they have brought with them their football boots and cones to dribble around, but it would be bad practice to prohibit the muses from the collection. She isn’t an idiot, though, and she knows that no amount of forced reading about the artist and other sophisticated matters will slip her seamlessly into the crowd.

There are lots of people; people she has never heard of, but make it clear they are far superior to her by the way in which their eyes politely drop to the tattoos inked onto her calloused hands. Their skin is soft, accustomed to the stems of crystal champagne flutes, and the drawings that hold so much personal meaning to the footballer are scrutinised to the point of silent… offence.

So much for appreciators of art, she thinks to herself, counting down the minutes until it is acceptable for her to leave.

With a huff and a vow to never – no matter how much she earns – forget where she has come from, Alexia staggers, uncomfortable in these particular heels, towards the painting she deems easiest to understand.

It is the largest in the room: deep, crimson reds on top of familiar greens, streaks of gold falling out of a ponytail.

Call Alexia egotistical, but anyone would be drawn to a painting of themselves.

The artist has done a good job, she guesses, not entirely sure if there is a deeper meaning behind the grass stains on her socks or the crumpled shading of her Spain jersey. It is a little creepy that someone she does not know has captured her likeness so expertly, so practised.

“The nose isn’t quite right,” a voice says beside her.

Alexia turns in surprise, amused enough by the stranger’s observation to examine her painted face, eyes not drawn from how majestic her image is beginning to seem. She sees no obvious issue, and so she replies, “I think it’s fine.”

“Just fine?”

She is still staring at herself, now impressed by the grandeur of the painting; its size, its quality. “Well, I am unsure how someone painted me so accurately when I was never called in for a… I don’t know, a consultation? And it seems a little weird to me that my hair is loose, because I tend to slick it back so it doesn’t fall out of my ponytail, and, you know, I always have something written on my boots, but otherwise, it’s fine. I doubt anyone here has ever watched a football match, so none of this will matter to them.”

“It doesn’t bother you that someone might pay millions for a painting that you have deemed not-quite-right?”

The voice is somewhat too interested, and suddenly Alexia swivels around to face its owner properly, worried she has spoken her mind to a journalist.

“Those millions go to a charity that will improve women’s sports every–”

You are definitely not a journalist, although once, when art really wasn’t paying, you had off-handedly typed out a few articles for one of the bigger galleries.

Alexia knows you are not a journalist because you are dressed to be in front of the cameras, not behind them.

Your hands hang by your sides, but in a rather unnatural manner as though you are itching to do something else, and she is briefly overcome by the horror that you seem elegant enough to be a potential buyer. Has she put you off?

“Oh,” you interrupt, “don’t be so profound. Sometimes you footballers sound like change-making machines.”

“There is change to be made,” she responds indignantly.

“Hence the exhibition,” you allow with a little smirk, nodding towards the rest of the room. Although the biggest of the collection, you had asked for your painting to be displayed in the corner; a filter, in a sense, to ensure no one throws money at the largest thing in the room just because they can. “It creeps you out to be painted?”

The question is curious, but Alexia no longer feels like she has been caged in an interrogation room.

She thinks about her answer for a moment, torn between returning to gaze at the expanse of the scene in front of her or staring at you, wondering if you count as one of the works of art on display.

“I have never met the artist,” she explains neutrally. You laugh, and it sounds infused with champagne and nervousness. “What? It’s like having a stalker. An extremely talented, creative stalker, but someone who studies me in secret nonetheless.”

“No, I understand. She must have researched you until the ends of the Earth.”

“The artist is a woman?” She isn’t sure she is surprised, but she asks you anyway, wanting to anchor you to the spot.��

“Alexia, this is an exhibition for women’s sports.” Your point is valid, but you have said her name and she is far more intrigued by the way that had sounded to praise you for your intelligence. You let out an airy breath and click your tongue. “I’d even say, given by the way she has painted you from the back, that the artist fancies you.”

“It’s the squats,” she easily replies with a giggle. “Who is the artist?”

You take a step towards her, the sharp points of your heels clacking against the concrete floor. She follows your index finger to the white plaque beside the canvas, reading the name written in small, black letters.

“I haven’t heard of her.”

Alexia sounds so thoughtful that you have to hide your smile behind your palm, coughing to provide an excuse for the action.

“Because you’ve heard of quite a few artists, haven’t you?”

“I know the main four.”

“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?”

“No.”

Again, you laugh, and it is melodious and rich and Alexia wants to hear it for the rest of her life. Which is not normal, she tells herself, because you are some loaded stranger and she is only here for another hour before she can escape back to the pitch and her teammates who like her tattoos and admire her and respect her hard work without seeing her as some tacky social-climber who scrounged an invite to an area of society where she is institutionally unwanted.

“Picasso,” she then offers, rather petulantly, looking at you with a childish frown. In her head, she estimates the distance between your bodies, noticing how you have not returned to your original position.

“Ah, well done. He’s quite niche.” She doesn’t appreciate the teasing, and so she steps sideways to… put a stop to it somehow. Obviously, the plan had never truly been formulated, and it comes across as a half-lunge to push you away, but then you are swinging your arms as though the conversation is boring you and she desperately wishes you’d stay put.

“What do you think about the painting?” she fires into the shortened space between you, the question wrapping around you like a rope that ties you to the spot.

“It’s boring.” She scoffs, because after all, it is a painting of her. “The poor artist must have been tortured by the task, having to force her eyes to stay open while watching football matches.”

And if Alexia were not so distracted by the way your swinging hand has begun to brush against her own, she would probably catch you out there and then.

(But your touch is electric and she is otherwise engaged.)

“Like, come on, can’t the sports photographers just get their pictures blown up? No one needs such an outrageously huge portrait of Alexia Putellas in their home, or stadium, or whatever. I reckon the artist is now regretting the angle she painted from, anyway, in case some pervert with more money than sense bids for it and hangs it up in his bedroom.”

“Bedroom?”

The tips of Alexia’s ears go red, a stark contrast to the expensive silver hoops she sports, and you stop your fidgeting, hand resting on top of hers – perhaps unintentionally – as her misunderstanding wedges an awkward pause into the middle of your rant.

“Sorry,” you apologise, “that was probably not the best thing to say, considering it’s a painting of you.”

Alexia runs through what you have said, hoping her subconscious has caught it while her mind was preoccupied with what your sexual orientation might be. “Why have you come here if you are so against the principle of it?”

“I was required to,” you explain, through half-gritted teeth and a jaw that tenses with leftover annoyance from a conversation you had with the coordinator.

Seizing the opportunity to get a humorous punch back, Alexia quickly fumbles out a, “someone’s important.”

She’d celebrate her victory over you, the way you blush in embarrassment, if you hadn’t started anxiously playing with her fingers. Suddenly, the air that bridges the gap between you is set alight and Alexia stares at where you are connected.

You hastily pull away. “Sorry,” you say for a second time. “I have to sell this, and I’m nervous.”

“Sell wh– The painting?”

“No, Alexia, I’ve been sent by Real Madrid to hold you hostage so I have to sell this act.” Briefly, fear washes over the footballer’s face, tanned skin paling at the idea that you have a weapon concealed in the satin folds of your dress. Then, your hand makes a decisive movement and your fingers are intertwining with hers before she can run to safety. “I thought it was best to lure you in by flirting with you.”

“You’ve been… flirting with me?”

“God, imagine if I actually were here to kidnap you.” You hold up your joined hands so that she can see for herself. “Is your weakness women who bully you?”

She blushes again, unsure how to handle what you have insinuated.

Alexia grasps onto what little dignity remains and straightens herself, shoulders rolling back as she emulates the confidence she has been painted with. “Only pretty women,” she drawls.

She is about to use whichever line appears in her mind first, completely unashamed by it because she has guessed you would tease her no matter what leaves her mouth, but some evil, cruel person clinks a small fork against their glass, clearing their throat, and your hands quickly return to your body, your attention drawn away from the conversation.

“Thank you all for coming,” announces the event coordinator, clearly gearing up for a speech. “There will be time for more chatting later, but I cannot resist showing off our most talented artist any longer.”

You roll your eyes. The expression is directed at Alexia, who chuckles privately, sunshine blooming in her chest that you have spared a silent comment just for her.

“Y/n, darling, where are you?”

An authoritative gaze searches through the crowd and lands on you.

The dots connect, Alexia begins to feel like an idiot, and you are sashaying away before she can ask you to stay.

#woso #woso x reader #randombush3 #barca femeni #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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svnarin · 4 months

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roommate!suna isn’t playing around this time

“why are you looking at me?”

“hm?” suna tilts his head in response.

you raised a brow at him who was just sitting right next to you on the couch, eyeing his current posture—chin resting on one of his palms with olive eyes just looking at you with such.. interest.

there was just silence on his end, and you couldn’t keep yourself from cracking a joke. “what? you wanna kiss me or something?”

“yeah, sure.”

you almost choked on your own spit. his response was unexpected, but you also think it was your fault for saying something so random.

“haha, funny.” you flicked his forehead with a fake smile on your face.

“who said i was joking?” suna’s head inched closer to yours. “i think you’re forgetting that you were the one who asked first.” he smiled.

you still doubt him even when he says he isn’t joking, but your heart still can’t help but start racing by the way he’s looking at you.

“so.. can i really kiss you?” suna asked.

testing the waters, you nodded and said yes. you remind yourself that you’re just testing the waters even though deep inside you, you’re not.

suna smiled at your response. he started to slowly lean into you, making you lean back and press your back on the couch.

you are still so confident that he was just playing around, but you are immediately proved wrong when you realize that he’s now on top of you. one of his hands is on your waist while the other is on your chin. not only that but his face is now so close into yours that you can feel his breath.

everything felt so slow as you felt his lips brush yours, but it sooned turned into a fleeting moment when all of a sudden there was a loud knock on the front door. “suna! can you go by our house in the meantime and show ‘samu the proof that i won earlier?”

shit. it’s atsumu.

“way to ruin the moment,” suna tsked as he got off you. “he could’ve just texted me,” he scowled under his breath.

you are left frozen on the couch, still processing what the hell just happened within the past three minutes.

suna thought that if it weren’t for atsumu visiting unannounced all of a sudden, he would’ve kissed you stupid right then and there.

𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | repost, modification, and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited.

#⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 : 𝐇𝐐 #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintaro x reader

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justcallme-ange · 4 months

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Techno’s Can’t/Shouldn’t List (Part 2)

Wrestling Steve is strictly prohibited. (Luckily he recognizes smaller = no full strength.)

Still not fire proof (Good thing Nikki’s good at first aid.)

Firewood must be cut to smaller logs. (Please Techno you’re gonna pull something)

#AccidentalHumanAU #c!techno #c!technoblade #c!niki #c!nihachu #steve the polar bear #my art

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aronarchy · 1 year

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Why we don’t like it when children hit us back

To all the children who have ever been told to “respect” someone that hated them.

March 21, 2023

Even those of us that are disturbed by the thought of how widespread corporal punishment still is in all ranks of society are uncomfortable at the idea of a child defending themself using violence against their oppressors and abusers. A child who hits back proves that the adults “were right all along,” that their violence was justified. Even as they would cheer an adult victim for defending themself fiercely.

Even those “child rights advocates” imagine the right child victim as one who takes it without ever stopping to love “its” owners. Tear-stained and afraid, the child is too innocent to be hit in a guilt-free manner. No one likes to imagine the Brat as Victim—the child who does, according to adultist logic, deserve being hit, because they follow their desires, because they walk the world with their head high, because they talk back, because they are loud, because they are unapologetically here, and resistant to being cast in the role of guest of a world that is just not made for them.

If we are against corporal punishment, the brat is our gotcha, the proof that it is actually not that much of an injustice. The brat unsettles us, so much that the “bad seed” is a stock character in horror, a genre that is much permeated by the adult gaze (defined as “the way children are viewed, represented and portrayed by adults; and finally society’s conception of children and the way this is perpetuated within institutions, and inherent in all interactions with children”), where the adult fear for the subversion of the structures that keep children under control is very much represented.

It might be very well true that the Brat has something unnatural and sinister about them in this world, as they are at constant war with everything that has ever been created, since everything that has been created has been built with the purpose of subjugating them. This is why it feels unnatural to watch a child hitting back instead of cowering. We feel like it’s not right. We feel like history is staring back at us, and all the horror we felt at any rebel and wayward child who has ever lived, we are feeling right now for that reject of the construct of “childhood innocence.” The child who hits back is at such clash with our construction of childhood because we defined violence in all of its forms as the province of the adult, especially the adult in authority.

The adult has an explicit sanction by the state to do violence to the child, while the child has both a social and legal prohibition to even think of defending themself with their fists. Legislation such as “parent-child tort immunity” makes this clear. The adult’s designed place is as the one who hits, and has a right and even an encouragement to do so, the one who acts, as the person. The child’s designed place is as the one who gets hit, and has an obligation to accept that, as the one who suffers acts, as the object. When a child forcibly breaks out of their place, they are reversing the supposed “natural order” in a radical way.

This is why, for the youth liberationist, there should be nothing more beautiful to witness that the child who snaps. We have an unique horror for parricide, and a terrible indifference at the 450 children murdered every year by their parents in just the USA, without even mentioning all the indirect suicides caused by parental abuse. As a Psychology Today article about so-called “parricide” puts it:

Unlike adults who kill their parents, teenagers become parricide offenders when conditions in the home are intolerable but their alternatives are limited. Unlike adults, kids cannot simply leave. The law has made it a crime for young people to run away. Juveniles who commit parricide usually do consider running away, but many do not know any place where they can seek refuge. Those who do run are generally picked up and returned home, or go back on their own: Surviving on the streets is hardly a realistic alternative for youths with meager financial resources, limited education, and few skills.

By far, the severely abused child is the most frequently encountered type of offender. According to Paul Mones, a Los Angeles attorney who specializes in defending adolescent parricide offenders, more than 90 percent have been abused by their parents. In-depth portraits of such youths have frequently shown that they killed because they could no longer tolerate conditions at home. These children were psychologically abused by one or both parents and often suffered physical, sexual, and verbal abuse as well—and witnessed it given to others in the household. They did not typically have histories of severe mental illness or of serious and extensive delinquent behavior. They were not criminally sophisticated. For them, the killings represented an act of desperation—the only way out of a family situation they could no longer endure.

- Heide, Why Kids Kill Parents, 1992.

Despite these being the most frequent conditions of “parricide,” it still brings unique disgust to think about it for most people. The sympathy extended to murdering parents is never extended even to the most desperate child, who chose to kill to not be killed. They chose to stop enduring silently, and that was their greatest crime; that is the crime of the child who hits back. Hell, children aren’t even supposed to talk back. They are not supposed to be anything but grateful for the miserable pieces of space that adults carve out in a world hostile to children for them to live following adult rules. It isn’t rare for children to notice the adult monopoly on violence and force when they interact with figures like teachers, and the way they use words like “respect.” In fact, this social dynamic has been noticed quite often:

Sometimes people use “respect” to mean “treating someone like a person” and sometimes they use “respect” to mean “treating someone like an authority” and sometimes people who are used to being treated like an authority say “if you won’t respect me I won’t respect you” and they mean “if you won’t treat me like an authority I won’t treat you like a person” and they think they’re being fair but they aren’t, and it’s not okay.

(https://soycrates.tumblr.com/post/115633137923/stimmyabby-sometimes-people-use-respect-to-mean)

But it has received almost no condemnation in the public eye. No voices have raised to contrast the adult monopoly on violence towards child bodies and child minds. No voices have raised to praise the child who hits back. Because they do deserve praise. Because the child who sets their foot down and says this belongs to me, even when it’s something like their own body that they are claiming, is committing one of the most serious crimes against adult society, who wants them dispossessed.

Sources:

“The Adult Gaze: a tool of control and oppression,” https://livingwithoutschool.com/2021/07/29/the-adult-gaze-a-tool-of-control-and-oppression

“Filicide,” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Filicide

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cl6udias · 3 months

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AINT NOBODY’S BUSINESS

summary : charlie bushnell and reader have a secret relationship that isnt so secret anymore…

warnings: fluff !! use of y/n bad writing (sorry yall im trying) social media au !! slut shaming, not proof read, this is really short !! if i missed any just let me know💗

therealbambi: beach day !! its nice have a relaxing day after so much stress😔

comments:

iamcharliebushnell: HEY!! wheres my photo creds ? i worked hard to get these amazing pics

therealbambi: photo creds: this weirdo

diorgoodjohn: you hung out with CHARLIE?!? instead of me?!? this is criminal

therealbambi: he forced me i swear

iamcharliebushnell: i did not!! you asked me to come with you

therealbambi: liar.

iamcharliebushnell: your the liar sorry babe.

user7: BABE?!??

leahsavajeffries: these photos are so cute!!

therealbambi: thank you leah!!

user10: charlie and y/ns banter is so cute STOP

user1: FOR REALLL ALSO HIM CALLING HER BABE?!?

diorgoodjohn: hung out with my fav girls last night ‼️‼️

comments:

therealbambi: last night was so much we need to hang out moreee

diorgoodjohn: WE DOOO !!

leahsavajeffries: the food last night was actually to die for🙏🙏

therealbambi: i told yall i know good restaurants 🤗

y/nupdates: y/ns been hanging out with the pjo cast alot maybe her in season 2?!?!

therealbambi: maybe who knows🤷🏽‍♀️

y/nupdates: STOP WHAT?!?

@iamcharliebushnell: why wasnt i invited to this little get together😞

diorgoodjohn: since when you a girl?

user4: NOT CHARLIE TRYING TO JOIN THEM LMAOO

user5: how much you wanna bet he wanted to hang out with y/n

*liked by dior and charlie*

user5: BOTH DIOR AND CHARLIE LIKED MY COMMENT IM TAKING THAT AS A YES

iamcharliebusnell: i definitely only wanted to hang out with bambi

user5: I FEEL SO LUCKY RN STOPP

user2: Y/N AND CHARLIE STANS RN ARE GOING CRAZY RN OVER THIS (its me im y/n and charlie stans)

walkerscobell: real

this comment was deleted

mtv: spoted singer and actress y/n making out with a mystery man outside her house in LA last night👀

comments:

y/nfan1: STOP WHOS TAKING AWAY MY WIFE FROM ME WTF

y/nupdates: realest thing ever said

user11: that kinda looks like charlie ngl🧐

charliebushnellupdates: STOP YOUR RIGHT AND THEY HAVE BEEN HANGING OUT ALOT

user1989: if it is i think ill actually die imagine the album she would write about him STOPP

haterngl: she doesn’t deserve Charlie shes gonna break up with him in a week and write a break up album about “how horrible he was”

user0: fr ngl shes kinda a slut i mean how many boyfriends has she had

user89: if your jealous just say that boo😘

pjofan13: STOPPP I MEAN Y/N HAS BEEN HINTING ABOUT A BOYFRIEND AND HER AND CHARLIE HAVE BEEN HANGING OUT ALOT RECENTLY OMG

therealbambi: y’all are fucking detectives or something i mean damn

y/nismywife: IS THIS HER CONFIRMING HER AND CHARLIE?

user07: Y/N WHAT?!? WDYM

user13: WHAT DOES SHE MEAN BY THIS ARE HER AND CHARLIE DATING WHAT😔

authors note: sorry if this is bad 😔 im new to writing and stuff !! anyways part 2 will be posted soon !! i just ran out of photo room bc i made this on my phone💗

#Spotify #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #charlie bushnell smut #luke castellan #luke castellan smut #percy jackson #social media au

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 1 year

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

Here are some good things that happened in 2022!

January:

Canada bans conversion therapy

Greece allows gay men to donate blood (for the first time in 45 years!)

Israel legalizes surrogacy for gay couples

People in Switzerland are now able to legally change their gender without having to undergo surgery first

February:

New Zealand bans conversion therapy

Nonbinary people in Columbia are now entitled to a birth certificate with a "nonbinary" sex marker

Nayarit (Mexico) allows same-sex couples to adopt

Kuwait overrules a law that has been used to criminalize transgender people

Jowelle de Souza makes history as the first openly transgender parliamentarian in the Caribbean (Trinidad and Tobago)

March:

Chile legalizes same-sex marriage

France removes the deferral period for gay men donating blood

The United States announces an overhaul of TSA protocols to implement gender-neutral screening at checkpoints

Wales (United Kingdom) bans conversion therapy

Kristin Crowley makes history as the first openly gay (and the first female) chief of the Los Angeles Fire Department (United States)

Diana Zurco makes history as Argentina’s first openly transgender newscaster

April:

Santa Catarina (Brazil) now allows nonbinary people to change their gender marker without having to file a lawsuit

Jalisco (Mexico) bans conversion therapy

The United States issues the first passport with a nonbinary gender 'X' option

May:

Greece bans conversion therapy

Lithuania allows gay men to donate blood

Croatia allows same-sex couples to adopt

Austria removes the deferral period for gay men donating blood

June:

Hidalgo (Mexico) now punishes people offering conversion therapy with up to 3 years in prison

Quebec (Canada) allows people to be classified as a parent (rather than a mother or father) on their child's birth certificate

North Carolina (United States) no longer demands proof of surgery from people who wish to change their gender marker

Spain prohibits employment discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, gender identity or HIV status

Kamala Harris made history by hosting the first Pride Month reception by a sitting vice president at their residence (United States)

July:

Switzerland legalizes same-sex marriage

Antigua and Barbuda legalize "same-sex behavior"

Andorra decides to legalize same-sex marriage (the law will come into effect in 2023)

Slovenia legalizes both same-sex marriage and adoption

Ariana DeBose makes history as the first queer woman of color (and the first Afro-Latina) to win an Oscar for acting (United States)

August:

India expands the definition of family to include "queer relationships"

Chile equalizes the age of consent

In Saint Kitts and Nevis, same-sex activity is no longer illegal.

Vietnam declares that homosexuality is not a disease and bans conversion therapy

Ellia Green makes history as the first Olympian to come out as a trans man (Australia)

September:

In India, the State Medical Councils can now take disciplinary action against doctors who provide conversion therapy

Cuba legalizes both same-sex marriage and adoption

Durango (Mexico) legalize same-sex marriage

Canada removes the deferral period for gay men donating blood

Kim Petras and Sam Smith make history as the first openly transgender woman and the first openly nonbinary person to reach number one on the Billboard Hot 100 (United States)

October:

Latvia allows civil unions for same-sex couples

Paraguay bans conversion therapy

Byron Perkins makes history as the first out football player at HBCU (United States)

Duda Salabert and Erika Hilton make history as the first two openly transgender people elected to the National Congress of Brazil

November:

Singapore decriminalizes gay sex

Singapore also lifts censorship of lgbt+ media

Hidalgo becomes the first state in Mexico to recognize nonbinary people

Ireland removes the deferral period for gay men donating blood

December:

Barbados legalizes "same-sex acts"

Here is to more good news in 2023!

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#lgbt #lgbt+

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ykscarlett · 4 months

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headcanons || valeria garza || pt.1

warning: this is only my opinion about her!!, minors dni, a slight mention of smut, lesbian relationship, a little bit angst ig, grammar, if I missed something, please write to me about it.

a/n: the first post. I'm really looking forward to your opinions and reblogs.

copying, translation, and use hc without my permission is prohibited & ykscarlett only on tumblr

with love, scarlett

My headcanons about Valeria (without mentioning revealing her as ‘el sin nombre’ and meeting with Ale) + bonus "if you are finally in a relationship with Valeria."

A former officer of the Mexican Special Forces, and now the leader of a criminal cartel, can show feelings? Can she be gentle to someone? Seriously?

Or maybe to lo– no, not to love, but rather, it's very good to improvise that she feels something for her partner, because she is very good at pretending. Too good, I'd say.

Love is something unknown to her.

Something that she failed to feel both as a child and in adulthood.

Something forbidden.

Something that she is deprived of and that she will never feel.

Let's be honest, she won't be able to love someone.

But I'm not saying she doesn't need love.

She didn't read the romantic books that all her girls-classmates flowed from. (and yes, her parents forced her to get a good education first, and then go into the military)

She didn't date anyone from school, while other girls switched boyfriends.

She realized that she was attracted to girls only at sixteen, when a pretty stranger in a club kissed her.

And she always used girls only to satisfy her pleasure. Of course, there are hints of sadism in her, after all, she personally tortures all her prisoners, but sexually there is a difference.

She will never cause real pain.

It can humiliate you, it can turn you into a wet, whimpering mess, it can make you faint from the pace and overexcitation, but it will never hurt if we engage in intimacy with you.

Well. In her opinion, love is overrated. This feeling is nothing more than a facade of a person's emotional weakness. And Valeria cannot allow herself to be weak in something, and especially towards someone.

But if you ask her "What is love for you?", I think she will answer something like this: "It's hard to explain.. it can mean something different to everybody. It's a feeling, a connection between people. A desire to protect someone more than yourself, and to be there for each other, no matter what. And it can be an incredibly powerful force, one that can change the world and bring people together in unexpected ways. For some, love is simply a chemical reaction, a biological instinct driven to perpetuate and propagate our species. And for others, it's a mystical concept that transcends time, space and logic."

She was definitely not in a real healthy relationship, I guarantee you that. And there's not much time for love when your life is constantly under threat. She had many affairs with girls and women, several with men (there were only two of them, the first was a trial, the second was proof that the opposite sex had no chance with her; and no, she did not date Alejandro, if they were together, Mexico would be on fire)

She's in the drug trade, man. This is unacceptable to me, drugs are evil, but in the case of Valeria... I do not know how to justify this, it is unacceptable to me.

She's a first-class manipulator. She can achieve absolutely anything she wants, only if she really wants to. Single–mindedness is another important character trait of hers. She will use any goals and any connections, any ways and break any rules to get what she has in mind... Or who.

But Val is not as bad as you think, I'm describing her. I think she just won't let herself fall in love. She's afraid of hurting someone she loves...to whom she will get attached because of her activities. She is engaged in criminal cases and every night she falls asleep (if suddenly, thank God, she gets the opportunity) with the thought "will I survive tomorrow?".

She's being hunted. Many. She runs a huge drug cartel, makes big deals, runs criminal gangs... Another reason to be alone and sometimes ask an assistant to order a little fucktoy.

But what if you win her heart so that she practically forgets about all her principles?

Bonus.

How you got to her, decide for yourself, whether it's captivity, recruitment or your own decision. There are many options.

At first, she will deny feeling for you.

Literally.

She will try to avoid you everywhere and in everything, she will start talking even colder, but she will surreptitiously watch you and with her own hands she will take care of that bully who is part of her cartel to show him that it is better not to even talk to you, let alone touch your waist. I don't think I need to say that the next day, and in fact, he will never appear in this building.

Initially, she will be a 'secret' lover. She will show signs of attention, but as imperceptibly as possible and goddamn you will understand that this is her, this is a woman who has not been trained in anything.

You will hook her, most likely, not with beauty, but simply with yourself. Time is important for Valeria, if it does not concern one-night stands. Time to take a closer look, time to realize, time to fall in love, time to come up with a way to confess, time to try to forget you, time to realize what really is...fuck..fell in love.

She notices the little things.

She is very attentive and sometimes it's even creepy. She notices if you have eaten before she sends you to transfer the goods, if you have not eaten, then she will send one of her assigned ones along with a package of typical goodies. She notices you drawing little drawings in the margins of your notebook while she talks about upcoming deals. She notices that a patch has appeared on your index finger, apparently you accidentally cut yourself with a knife again, imagining yourself *some famous chef* and be sure that there will be a pack of patches and one flower on your bedside table.

Valeria has never liked flowers. But for your sake, she became addicted to the colors of red. Red...as blood...and even here she went crazy. In my opinion, she would always give a long red rose with uncut, sharp thorns.

Without noticing it, she becomes softer towards you than towards her other 'employees'.

Since she is a woman with money, she can pamper you with gifts that you have been dreaming about for a long time, and the cartel's personal courier will say that it is from an old relative/aunt/former classmate/fourth cousin on dad's sister's side.

Okay, let's move away from the period of easy falling in love and move on to some of the facts that await you in a relationship with her.

Her gentle nature may or may not reveal itself. She can gently kiss your lips and easily cover your entire neck with bruises, which is why you get sidelong glances from your teammates and an arrogant look from V. She can gently and slowly play with your pussy, treating it like a crystal vase, or she can spank your pussy, bite your hips until red stripes appear and fuck hard with a strap-on.

Speaking of the latter, she doesn't have many. One is standard, one that you can safely accept and enjoy it, the second is an ordinary dildo with protruding parts and the third is a long one if you've done something and she can't wait to vent her disappointment on you.

Before entering into an intimate relationship with you, she will definitely discuss what is acceptable for you, what is not and what is categorically not. This is another manifestation of love on her part.

If you return wounded after the mission, she will swear at everyone and take you to her office, where, cursing menacingly, she will begin to treat your wounds, after which she will gently kiss each one, as if taking all the pain for himself.

Another bonus.

A few days ago, she asked you to sleep with her. Of course, you agreed, and a few minutes after her proposal, you were lying on her chest in her big bed, in which she practically does not sleep, because sitting on a chair is more familiar to sleep and she stroked your hair. She can't help but wonder why she's showing such tenderness to you. Her brain tries in every possible way to reason with her, to return her to her usual cold and inaccessible lifestyle, to her comfort zone. But she moves away from these thoughts to thoughts of you, who is peacefully snuffling on her chest like a child.

Grinning at the comparison of you with a child, she pretended not to think about how just yesterday you sucked on her tits, sucking them to such an extent that your drool flowed between her large and soft breasts, continuing to stroke your head and occasionally kissing your forehead.

///

But she was gone for a long time last night. She's back in her office. You knew that for sure. Before your relationship, you often ran to her about assignments and even late at night she was always there.

So you got out of bed, wrapped yourself in a blanket, put on your slippers and went to her office. You knocked.

"Busy." Her menacing voice rang out.

She's unhappy about something, you thought, and whispered. "Valeria? May I?"

When she heard your voice, she froze in place and only after a few seconds shouted, "Come in, cariño."

You went inside and sure enough, Garza's desk was filled with papers, empty coffee cups and wrappers from her favorite candies. I'm sure she has a sweet tooth. It sounds silly, but I think it's almost the only thing that will make her smile out of pleasure, not disgust or something like that.

"Can't you sleep without me?" She replied sarcastically.

"Yes." You answered quite seriously and she understood it.

She patted her knees and said meekly, "Come here, dulzura."

When you sat down and put your arms around her neck, resting your head on her shoulder, she leaned her ear against the top of your head and put one arm around your waist, continuing to work with documents.

"Sit here for now. I'll be done soon and we'll go to bed, I'll take you to bed. Sleep well...mi pequeña princesa."

covers: https://pin.it/5K9iR3NJ7

the meanings of some words in Spanish:

cariño - darling

dulzura - sweetness

mi pequeña princesa - my little princess

#valeria garza #valeria garza headcanon #cod mwii #cod mw2 #el sin nombre #scarlett’s hc #headcanon #cmon #cod imagine #cod scenarios #valeria garza x reader

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rottendollface · 8 months

Text

Guilty.

Character: Wriothesley.

Warnings: NSFW, female reader, OOC Wriothesley and Neuvillette, religious cult, mass suicide, psychological manipulations, gaslighting, corrupted court, unrequited love from Wriothesley to reader, unhealthy obsession, toxic care, forced unequal marriage, unhealthy self-criticism, unprotected gentle sex, oral sex (reader receiving), 18+.

W/C: 3240.

In the DNA of every Fontaine citizen there was a primal fear of the Primordial Sea. Some of the citizens were happy to convince themselves that it wasn't a fear – just a placidity with the notes of hidden anxiety. Others were counting days and seeking for the proof of the prophecy coming true. Your father belonged to the second category.

He was a good speaker and did know how to manipulate other people's feelings. He was blessed with good fantasy, lively tongue, and commitment to his ideas. He would rather die than betray his ideals – thanks to this impressive core strength, he was able to become a preacher for a group of people that was waiting for the end humbly. Your father's mind was gone and he, drugged with the sense of power, created a cult of Primordial Sea, where he and his followers were praying for the Judgment Day to come. Their insanity was ineffable: the whole cult decided to commit mass suicide as a prey for the Primordial Sea. Your father told his followers that after their death, their souls would beg the Primordial Sea to pour on the Fontaine to purify the sinners, and the evil would be erased. He managed to make people think that the whole nation of Fontaine was born as a messiah. But something went wrong: everyone, except your father, had died.

The trial was rough and humiliating for you; there was only you left in Fontaine as your mother left the city right after her husband became a preacher. The Chief Justice Neuvillette was furious, you could swear his piercing gaze was directed not on your father only, but on you as well; Neuvillette himself insisted on your presence and prohibited you from leaving the trial. You could hear people in the courtroom whispering behind your back: they were discussing every detail of your family life, laughing scornfully at your destroyed reputation. The whole clan of yours was disgraced, and you, as the only alive representative of it, was meant to take this burden on your shoulders. You were thinking about leaving Fontaine, too, but you missed the opportunity. During investigation, you got into a list of suspects and was banned from leaving Fontaine for a couple of years. Your innocence was proved, but the authorities promised to keep an eye on you, as they still believed you were affected by your father's ideas.

For the whole trial, you couldn't take a handkerchief out of your eyes. You were crying silently, praying for this grotesque performance to end. The white cotton handkerchief of yours embroidered with pink roses was wet with tears and felt disgusting when you pressed it to your skin, but you couldn't help but cry about your ruined life. It was a triumph of justice and the funeral of your youth. Not a respected man would ever marry you or hire you on a prestigious job. You were doomed to lead a miserable life until you would be able to leave Fontaine.

Wriothesley was here too, and he was observing you carefully. He knew you well since adolescence and the whole situation left him in shock, but with a pleasurable aftertaste. Previously you wouldn't even look at him and now you didn't have a choice but to go to him if you wanted to save the remnants of your reputation and provide yourself a life without hardships. Wriothesley wasn't lucky to fall in love with you since the very first moment he met you at a tea party between honorable families, but you were fascinated with another boy. Wriothesley knew your engagement fell apart, so he was blessed with a good chance.

Despite his social status, the title of the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide left its mark on Wriothesley's reputation. Respected as usual, he silently became unwanted at many events and parties, as if the spirit of jail and the aura of social outcasts he had to work with were following him everywhere. This isolation affected Wriothesley, making him distant and cold. The more time he spent at the Fortress, the fewer reasons for leaving it he had seen. Maybe if you agree to become his woman, he would taste the pleasure of simple walks and visits to the cafe again.

Wriothesley noticed you looking at him and he gave you a nod, you gave him back a forced sorrowful smile and turned your head to Neuvillette. Even in a state of full emotional breakdown you were beautiful: your puffy and red eyes with clumpy eyelashes, the reddened tip of your nose and your swollen red lips awoke long forgotten desires in him. Your hair with two small and messy braids that were framing both sides of your charming face left him dreaming of just one touch of it. Rose gold locket with a print of a flower on your neck begged Wriothesley to replace it with the one with his family's symbol; and this mourning black dress on your fragile figure needed to be torn off of your body and burned in a fire along with this tragic past of yours, Wriothesley believed. You were a heroine of his dreams, and Wriothesley was determined to become your knight in real life.

You didn't look at all the relatives of the victims of your father's deeds. You paid them a stated compensation, but money couldn't bring back their loved one – it was impossible for you to endure talking to them as the guilt was covering your whole existence and turned you into a silent shell of a man. You had to sell all the furniture and tableware, all your jewelry except family heirlooms and plenty of your dresses were sold, too. The more you tried to hold the family estate and the heritage your ancestors made in your hands, the faster it fell down, as if your touch was diseased. When the trial ended you were the first to rush out of the courtroom.

You got into debts trying to pay off legal costs and to feed yourself. You applied to dozens of jobs but all of them were silent. The debt papers were multiplying and there was no way for you to escape the vicious circle, until one morning you got a letter with a black wax seal and the emblem of Wriothesley's family. It was short and cold. Wriothesley stated that he paid for all your debts and invited you for a private talk to the Fortress of Meropide. Your hands started shaking both from fear and gratitude, your mixed emotions made your heart beat so fast it was hard to breathe. You cried all your tears already and your face grimaced in a painful cry without any tear. You didn't expect Wriothesley to stand by your side when everyone else turned their backs on you, he had no reasons for helping you: you had always been allured by someone else and rarely found a moment to spare on him. You suspected that he had romantic feelings towards you and this made you avoid him even more. For you Wriothesley was just an acquaintance and you were afraid to give him a false hope. The only time you initiated a talk with him was the day of his promotion to the post of Lord. It was short and simple: just a greeting and a small present with a congratulatory card. The present was so simple and unsuitable for the occasion, yet it seemed like a great idea for you to present to Wriothesley a set of your favorite pastries. It was the best pastries on the whole Fontaine but you didn't even ask him if he liked them.

Wriothesley was waiting for you nervously. You came right at the appointed hour. Before he could tell you a thing you hugged him, pressing his mature figure to yours tightly.

'Words can't express my gratitude to you, Wriothesley.' You whispered loud enough for him to hear. Stunned, he even forgot to hug you back, and you let him go right when he wanted to embrace you. 'You wanted a private talk, and I'm here. Still, I can't understand why we have to do it in the Fortress…'

You shivered and looked around with pain in your eyes. It worked, Wriothesley thought, noticing every detail in your appearance that showed him clearly – you were exposed and ready to accept everything he would offer to you. The extreme degree of despair that you felt coming through the cold moldy corridors full of murderers, thieves and rapists made you distressed, and the escort of Clorinde with her attentive eyes watching your every step didn't make it easier.

'I hope you understand all the seriousness of the situation you ended up in,' Wriothesley started with a calm assured voice. 'Your life fell apart in a moment. My life is crumbling slowly. The best we can do is to stay together. Your reputation will be restored, you will live a happy life again, I promise you I will take all the responsibility for it in my hands.'

'I appreciate your tenacity, but how? It's impossible, dear Wriothesley. I will leave Fontaine after the end of my travel restrictions, just like my mother did. This is the best I can do.' You answered him with sadness. Leaving behind the great history of your family, the manor and a carefree life that you once had, and the lovingly tended homeland was hard, impossible even, but you couldn't endure the way your friends were turning their faces away from you on the streets, hiding their hands inside their cloaks just not to have a handshake with you.

Dear Wriothesley… Those words were sweeter than honey when spoken out of your lips. It seemed like he ignored everything you said after, his gaze fixated on your lovely face as he admired it. He dreamed of those words, of the private moments, of the simplest conversation – and now he had it all at his plate.

Wriothesley's tone was stern. 'The stain on your reputation is indelible. You shouldn't think that a simple escape will erase it – it will make everything even worse, everyone will think that you are guilty, just like your father. You should stay in the city and forget about your plan.'

'Why?' Your eyes filled with tears. 'How can I stay here if everyone despises me?! Merchants close their shops when they see me coming! I'm pushed out of society just because of my father! I am the one tortured with terrible inner guilt! This is a miracle that you are talking to me, you are the only one whom I'm talking to in a month! I'm so sorry to the one who lost their relatives, but they are not the only victims and no one feels compassion towards me!' You cried like an animal wounded by a trap. Your lips were trembling, as you tried to prevent tears, but it didn't work and an uncontrollable stream poured from your tired eyes. You covered your face with your palms, but your shuddering shoulders unrevealed your hysterical, bitter, full of anger and sense of helplessness crying.

Wriothesley came to you and hugged you softly, carefully, not to scare you away: he pressed you to his body, one of his hands held your back and the other was patting the back of your head. You felt safe for the first time and took your palms away from your face.

'Marry me, and your problems will be gone.' Wriothesley whispered, pressing his cheek to your head. His touch was full of need and love, he held you in his hands tightly, as if you could melt and disappear, and was the most precious part of his life. Seconds before your answer were the most agonizing in his entire life.

You bit your lip until blood while thinking chaotically, choosing between honesty to yourself and all the goods you could have from pairing with Wriothesley. You respected him, admired him for his character, but you never loved him. And he loved you – the terrible guess turned out to be true, and guilt pricked you once again. All this time your cowardly silence was hurting him. Even now he was ready to put at risk his own reputation only to save yours. The selfless things Wriothesley was ready to do for love – you never deserved him.

'I will…' You could feel how your heart dropped, and how Wriothesley's heart started beating faster from excitement. He was the happiest man on Teyvat, and you were the most despised in your own eyes.

You moved to Wriothesley's house before you got engaged. He insisted on it, as he believed that your manor was full of negative memories and he wanted you to rest before the ceremony. Everything was just like Wriothesley said: people started treating you better after you were announced as his fiancée. The wedding was small, only for the closest friends, and there was no one from your side.

'I see the results of my help,' Neuvillette said, patting Wriothesley on his shoulder, when you were busy talking to Sigewinne. 'Treat her well. That is the only way you can atone your foul trick on her.'

'Sure, Chief Justice.' Wriothesley chuckled. 'You don't have to worry about it.'

Wriothesley's authority was strong enough to affect people's opinion. If he believed you and thought of you as a good match for him, then it meant that you were a decent woman, disgraced by your father's deeds. Slowly, you became welcomed again. The society that once cruelly pushed you out, was pitying you. You were able to attend parties, but Wriothesley didn't share your happiness.

Every time you got an invitation he was here to remind you, that those families turned their backs on you when you needed their support. He claimed them unworthy of your presence, he told you it would be better if you stop befriending traitors. You were surrounded by traitors, Wriothesley believed, and all your surroundings needed to be changed.

You tried to brush it off, but deep inside you knew – Wriothesley was right. Instead of noisy parties you preferred to spend your time at home, having a conversation with Wriothesley and drinking tea with your favorite pastries. He was so generous towards you: your every whim, your smallest wishes were done. Your laugh and joyful shine of your eyes were his best payment – he wanted nothing, but your smile. The only reason Wriothesley came home was you waiting for him. He knew you would meet him and give him a greeting kiss, then ask him about his day. It was an unchanging ritual, a rule of your and his family. While on work Wriothesley dreamed of your gentle touch, of warmth of your lips against his. He couldn't forget how blessed he was to share the most intimate moments with you. Your body was supple and took everything Wriothesley gave to it. Usually a rough lover, he couldn't treat you the same way he treated other women. His hands undressed you, traced your curves gently, with adoration, as if he was touching the masterpiece made by Archons themselves. His lingering touches were mixed with his wet kisses on your body. Your soft skin got hot from the simplest touch and Wriothesley used it to his advantage. You laid under him, exposed and needy, and Wriothesley started from kissing your lips until they swell. His tongue slipped inside your mouth to tease yours, he sucked on your lips and bit the lower one to hear you gasping. Wriothesley's fingers were caressing your breasts, pinching your nipples lightly only to prepare them for his tongue. He sucked on them alternately, playing with them with his tongue and wetting with saliva. Before entering you Wriothesley had always spared a moment for teasing you by using his mouth. He opened your thighs with droplets of your wetness glistening shamelessly on your skin, his lips reached your swollen clit immediately. He licked on your pussy hungrily, adding stimulation but denying you cum. Wriothesley sucked on your clit, licked on it while his fingers circled around your clenching hole, then stuffed you and bumped on the sensitive spots inside. When he replaced his fingers on his tongue, Wriothesley showed it inside as far as possible, pressing his lips firmly to your opening and fucking you on his tongue.

Your wet pussy took his massive cock easily and hugged it tightly. Wriothesley felt the pulsation of your overstimulated walls and pounded on you in a calm rhythm, leisure even, to let you feel all the pleasure when his cock hit on your deepest parts. Once you begged for more, Wriothesley went faster, going hard, his hands on your hips pressed you down on his cock roughly. The faster and rougher pace drove you mad, you couldn't hold your screams in your throat. Wriothesley could go on you for hours before cumming, and you accepted all of him, as your pussy couldn't get enough of his cock. Usually quiet, Wriothesley became loud when he was close to release, his grip on your body was so tight it left bruises on your skin. You were the first to cum, and your climax on his cock made him cum too, scorching your spasming pussy with his seed.

From your side you tried to do everything for him, showed him as much affection as you could, but the feeling of falseness accompanied you at your every deed and made you sick of yourself. Wriothesley couldn't have enough of you, he needed to be with you for the whole day and even at night he was hugging you to his chest so tightly you couldn't escape. His sleep was light and he woke up every time you left the bed. Wriothesley shared your every hobby, and you did the same with his, even though you didn't like them. When you wanted to go for a walk, he came with you even if it interrupted his own plans. He tried to do everything together with you: cooking, cleaning, resting, sleeping and being awake. Wriothesley wasn't tired of you, but you felt the opposite. All the hours he spent at work were just like a pure blessing from Archons – it were hours of tranquility and silence. You were afraid to ask for more private space: you still felt that you owed him. He had plenty of money that he spent on you without any hesitation, he restored your family manor and treated you like a queen. You didn't have to work, but you searched for a job – of course, Wriothesley noticed it. He sat you up in the Fortress of Meropide, so you two could see each at work too. It was the best job a woman could dream about: with a good salary and easy duties to perform. When he had a free minute he always came to your office, knowing perfectly that you had already finished your job and were helping other girls with their stuff. If you refused to spend a lunch time with him, referring to the strains of work, you felt stink-eye gazes from your colleagues which lead to a self-loathing.

In the storm of complicated feelings, the only one, that had never left you, was guilt.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin fic #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x fem reader

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sgiandubh · 2 months

Note

OMG! I can practically see her pulling at her pearls in indignation and fury! I wonder how many wet dreams he rejected her to result in this anger 🙃🙄😜 https://www.tumblr.com/maximumwobblerbanditdonut/747779411400671232/public-intoxication-sh-was-invited-to-the-landcon?source=share

Dear Pearl Clutching Anon,

This woman is the worst mythomaniac and the most pathetic know-it-all of the entire fandom. Mark me: probably a sock account of one of the Mordor sopranos, who'd like to play it cool otherwise. She is an impostor, pretending to be a Scot. But her grammar and spelling recurrent mistakes point to anything else but an English native speaker.

Prized and praised as she is by the dim-witted, she is living proof of the fact that you cannot reasonably and endlessly pretend to be an expert in hair implants, cocktails/bartending, audiovisual production, copyright, alcohol sales and pretty much everything in between. To me, she is at her most pathetic when she pretends to analyze the legal intricacies of the French regulations applicable to public alcohol tasting events.

What happened, in fact, at the Landcon 6 whisky tasting?

Ok. So, this was announced by the French organizers on March 5th and presented as a limited audience event, priced at 350 euros.

This idiot's comment is absolutely priceless:

She would be surprised to find out that, unlike the US, there has never been any Prohibition decreed in France (Hell would have frozen). Even more interestingly, the only venues where French law specifically prohibits alcohol tastings and sales are enumerated very clearly in regulations far above her intellectual abilities:

The main idea is that you cannot sell/organize alcohol tastings in public health venues (hospitals, clinics, etc), rehabilitation clinics (d'oh!) - both for alcohol and drug addictions -, schools, youth summer camps, sports arenas, swimming pools or any other public or private sports venues.

(Source: French Public Health Code, https://www.dalloz.fr/documentation/Document?id=CODE_CSPU_ARTI_D3335-1&scrll=CSPU022225&FromId=CODES_SECS_CSPU_TALPHA)

To these limitations, the French national professional organizations add, as best practice, the following: churches, cemeteries, prisons, military barracks, railway/public transport facilities (including depots).

(Source: Vin & Société's Guide juridique de la dégustation/Tasting Legal Guide - https://www.syndicat-cotesdurhone.com/upload/article/file/202103guidejuridiquedeladegustation-60658bb9468b4.pdf)

To my knowledge, Landcon's venue was neither a cemetery, nor a church (the latter could be, however discussed: wee & lame joke, btw). And for that poor woman's information, you would not need an exemption, but a permit, or licence. In current French law, there are four such sale permits, ranked from I (soft drinks, such as Orangina) to IV (all drinks, including spirits). The fabled Licence IV (also the name of a beloved 90s French kitschy music group, LOL) is now impossible to obtain and if you want to have one, you have to buy the venue (cafe, nightclub, bar, bistro, restaurant or buvette) that had it issued first, many moons ago.

That problem solved, we would have to further analyze the type of event hosted by the Landcon. Was it a tasting or a sale, according to French regulations?

If it was a tasting, no licence is needed. If it was a sale, you might need a temporary licence, granted by the Mayor, provided you have notified them at least 3 months before the event. These are also famously hard to get and very sparingly granted, too.

Because tastings are an exception, they are strictly defined by French regulations as 'free alcohol consumption' and their regulations are excruciatingly detailed. Procedures and limitations vary according to the type of event: sports, tourism promotion, markets and fairs, public gatherings or cultural events (which is the one that seemed the closest to our situation). But a cultural event-cum-tasting would have to be completely free of charge (no paying access tickets), in order to be exempt from any legal obligation. This was not the case, as we know there was a rather steep, 350 euros fee, to be able to attend it:

(Source: Vin & Société's Guide juridique de la dégustation/Tasting Legal Guide - https://www.syndicat-cotesdurhone.com/upload/article/file/202103guidejuridiquedeladegustation-60658bb9468b4.pdf)

That new activity was certainly not a tasting, as defined by French law. An amateur could then conclude, that S's event was, in fact, a disguised sale and that he is either a sinister fool or a filthy conman.

The trouble is, French legislation tolerates one single, overruling exception to everything I wrote above: sale by the producer of said alcohol. It is to be found (or rather interpreted - and it has been so by myself AND the French professional organizations), in the Code Général des Impôts/ French Tax Code:

To avoid a tedious legal translation, the idea is that if you do not sell your own produced booze, you are automatically considered as a stockist/trader and as such, subject to alcohol sales' regulations. If the Landcon organizers would have sold/promoted Laphroaig, for example, they would have needed the permit. But hosting a paying tasting event organized by SRH, promoting SRH's whisky and which profits entirely belonged to SRH is a sale by the producer, as defined by French law, not needing a permit:

(Source: Vin & Société's Guide juridique de la vente/Sales Legal Guide - https://fgvb.fr/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Vin-et-Societe-Guide-juridique-de-la-vente-19042021.pdf)

So: even if the tasting event was, in fact, a sale, French law allows a producer to sell his own alcohol, for promotion purposes as a side event, with no further need to obtain a permit. And this is exactly what their legal team rightfully advised them to do and completely what I would advised them to do, too.

That woman is so often and in so many ways completely wrong, that she is absolutely ridiculous. She (and also her other Big Friend) should perhaps stop pretending to be whatever they are not. Infantilizing, bullying and snarling at people does not help with their credibility.

Such women are genuine Frauds and absolutely despicable. People spend years fucking their eyesight in law school and we do not joke about interpreting and reading legalese. Ever. But to see idiots pretending to know just because they fucking used Google for ten minutes is just infuriating: it took me two hours to find the exception and another two to write this comment.

I hope this long, tedious answer was helpful, Anon.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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landofzero-archive · 24 days

Text

Eden TRIP Album MC Talk Series

Season: ☆

MC 1

Hiyori: “Thank you for coming to our, Eden’s, independent live today! It sure is a blessing to be able to celebrate the album release together!

We’ve loaded our love into the songs to be delivered to you. Receive them without leaving out a single one, okay……♪”

Jun: “The first song we performed was KEEP OUT.

How was this song that was specifically written for the album?”

Nagisa: “…… I’m glad that you seem to like it. KEEP OUT means ‘no trespassing’.

…… We’re going to break into everyone’s hearts. Into the shining paradise, like a lurking viper.”

Ibara: “And then we will slowly and carefully pour poison into you, and show you sweet dreams.

So that tonight’s stage may become an unforgettable memory……♪”

Jun: “Afterwards, we’ll perform two songs; one after the other~ That first song is—”

Nagisa and Ibara: “…… Melting Rouge Soul.”

MC 2

Ibara: “Melting Rouge Soul from Adam, and Ruby Love from Eve have been performed.

Both of these were songs unveiled at Chocolat Fes— during Valentine’s season.

Nagisa: “…… Yeah. At that time, the fact that both Adam and Eve were releasing new songs at the same time became a hot topic.

…… The cheering during the moment Ibara and I said “Melting Rouge Soul” felt really good.”

Ibara: “Fufu. I’m sure there are a lot of people who did not expect it because it’s called Eden’s independent live.

I told you, didn't I? That I’ll show you sweet dreams……♪”

Hiyori: “Adam’s fans, Eve’s fans, as well as Eden’s fans—

Today we will satisfy every single person who loves us.

You’re prohibited from looking away! Keep your eyes on us till the very end♪

Jun-kun, you can’t blink either!”

Jun: “Eeh, please let me blink~ My eyes will get dry.

Oh, seems like they got everything ready while we were talking. The next song will be a solo song.

Ibara Saegusa’s— Salute Desire.”

MC 3

Ibara: “— That was Salute Desire

Oops. Thank you for the warm applause.

Though I endeavored to give a more perfect performance than usual—

During a solo song, everyone’s gazes are concentrated on me from every possible angle, so my mind could not even be inattentive for even a single moment.

Above all else, I’m glad that you were satisfied♪

Now, let me briefly introduce myself.

I am Eden’s Ibara Saegusa. Salute~☆

As you see, alongside my idol activities, I’m also serving concurrently as the producer of Eden and the vice president of the agency.

I’m very happy to be able to deliver the new song as well as the accompanying event to everyone.

I will continue to work energetically, so I ask you to please continue to treat Eden and Cosmic Production well☆

The next song will be brought to you by the four members of Eden.

Let us show you our way of life— Paradise Banishment -Faith Conquest-”

MC 4

Nagisa: “…… We’ve performed Paradise Banishement -Faith Conquest-.

…… It was first unveiled during Conquest wasn’t it. It’s a song containing Eden’s faith.

…… Hiyori-kun doesn’t really like it, I wonder?”

Hiyori: “No. I like the song itself. It’s a song that’s just like Eden.

But I’ve had enough of Conquest! Even if it’s a farce, I don’t want to act like we’re fighting and hating each other.

We’re aaaalways been the best united, mutually loving, unit—

I’m sure the fans don’t want to see us like that too.”

Nagisa: “…… I agree. The loud cheers that could shake the whole venue is the greatest proof of that.

…… Let’s keep getting along, Hiyori-kun.

…… As an ‘equal friend.’”

Hiyori: “Yes. ‘Equal’……♪

-Now now, next would be something everyone has been waiting for, my solo song!

Accept My Love— accept my love……!”(1)

TL Note:

He translates “Accept My Love” into Japanese here.

MC 5

Hiyori: “Thank you for listening to Accept My Love!

Yes yes. You’re smiling so much, I’m happy too☆

I’ll follow Ibara’s example and introduce myself. I am Eden’s Hiyori Tomoe!

Life isn’t all about fun. There’s times where you feel depressed and like you want to cry.

When that happens, it’s good to look at me. Because I’m the one who shines bright like the sun☆

Listen to my songs, and follow the productions I appear in—

Just imitate me and smile! Since I always have a smile on my face!

If you smile, the people around you will also smile. It’s a happiness chain reaction. What fine weather……☆

Now! Let’s move on to the next song, shall we?

All four of us will perform it, so please give us all of your support.

Eden’s— EXCEED.”

MC 6

Jun: “I’ve just performed EXCEED. This song is—”

Ibara: “Isn’t this a song with a shady history for you, Jun?”

Jun: “Wait a sec. Could you please stop saying misleading things~?

It’s not like it’s got a shady history or anything, umm……

When we released this song, I had lost my confidence and kept makin’ mistakes.

But then, Ibara went out of character and comforted me by saying,’Why do you lose confidence when there are people who view you so favorably?’……”

Ibara: “‘Out of character’ is superfluous.”

Jun: “Haha. I won’t be able to be the same as Ohiisan, Nagi-senpai, or Ibara, but to that extent—

No. That’s why, as Jun Sazanami, I’ll continue to put in the effort as myself.

Eden is where I belong, y’know~

Haha, thank you for all the applause. Sorry if I sounded like I was urging y’all to do something.”

Ibara: (Whispering) …… Honestly, Jun really was an idiot during that time.

There are so many people who love you.

Jun: “Hm? I couldn’t hear it over the applause, but you said something, right?”

Ibara: “No, it’s nothing. Please continue talking about yourself after you finish singing.

Now then, please listen. Jun Sazanami’s— Unlock the Soul.”

MC 7

Jun: “Hello, everyone. It’s Eden’s Jun Sazanami.

How was Unlock the Soul?

The lyrics were good, weren’t they~. When I sing them, I get excited.

Speaking of lyrics, apparently Ibara wrote the lyrics to the song I just sang, EXCEED, for me.

Wha~t? People might think I sound conceited when I say that.

But Nagi-senpai said it was to help me get over my slump or something. There’s no doubting it~

Well. That Ibara, he can be really kind sometimes~♪

Haha. Ibara’s looking at me from the side of the stage with a face like he just swallowed a bitter bug.

I shouldn’t get carried away, or I’ll probably get scolded later~

Now that I’ve told a story just for this special occasion, let’s get to the next song.

Eden’s— Absolute Perfection.”

MC 8

Nagisa: “…… Absolute Perfection. This is the first song we performed at Absolute.

…… I am God♪

…… Ibara, please look. Everyone’s rejoicing.”

Ibara: “It seems so. Unlike Absolute’s stage, this is a country where countless gods rule.”

Nagisa: “…… That’s not the only reason.

…… There are many people here who love us. They weren’t present at Absolute either.”

Ibara: “Indeed. The presence of fans is an idol’s strength—their powerful weapon.

However. It’s not normal for Eden to be completely dependent on our fans.

Let’s be ourselves and make a triumphant return to Absolute with our utmost strength.

Then, we will receive our laurels and make ourselves known. Eden are the best idols in the world.”

Nagisa: “…… Yes. I’m sure our fans want that as well.

…… Because we’re the strongest idols, Eden.

…… Next, I’ll perform my solo song.”

Ibara: “Everyone please listen. Nagisa Ran’s—We’re all alone.”

MC 9

Nagisa: “…… You just listened to We’re all alone.

…… I’m Eden’s Nagisa Ran. Thank you for coming to our live today.

…… Each song has its own memories. I was remembering all that happened while singing.

…… I wonder if you all have had the same experience? Since music and memories are connected to one another and committed to memory.

…… I wonder if everyone has some kind of emotional attachment to Eden’s songs.

…… If possible, I would like to ask each and every one of you individually. But, it would be difficult to do that today.

…… It would make me happy if you could let me know through a letter or handshake event.

…… I hope our songs may touch everyone’s hearts.

…… ‘The eternal paradise that touches the heart’— that’s what Eden is.

…… And now, it’s almost time for the end.

…… We’ll perform two songs in a row at the end. Eden’s— Awakening Myth.”

MC 10

Nagisa: “…… It’s a shame, but let’s close the door to paradise.”

Jun: “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for coming to Eden’s independent live today!

Did you all have fun at our live?”

Hiyori: “You got to see my finest performance, so it must have been fun!

I swear on Ibara’s glasses that it’s true☆”

Ibara: “Could you please not involve me? If you’re going to swear on something, swear on Jun’s life instead.”

Hiyori: “That’s no good! Jun-kun’s life is mine!”

Jun: “My life is my own. Could you not swear on it so casually~?”

Nagisa: “…… Hey, can I close the door to paradise?”

Jun: “C’moon, Nagi-senpai is bothered now, isn’t he?”

Hiyori: “Don’t make it sound like it’s my fault! It’s collective responsibility!”

Jun: “Alright alright. Now then, let’s meet again some time soon.”

MC 11

Ibara: “Everyone! Thank you for the magnificent encore!”

Nagisa: “…… The door to paradise opened right away.”

Hiyori: “No. It didn’t open on its own, we had to open it. With the power of everyone’s love♪

That’s why we also have to respond with love. Let’s share the love with everyone here.”

Jun: “The last song is, of course, this song!— BRAND NEW STARS!!!”

MC 12

Jun: “That was BRAND NEW STARS!!! This is truly the end.

We did our best, though. When I think about how it’s over, I feel lonely after all, huh~”

Hiyori: “Everyone, thank you for singing with us! Thank you for your magnificent smiles!

Please come and see me again! I’ll be waiting♪”

Nagisa: “…… The door to paradise shall close again.

…… But I’m sure we’ll meet again. Without stopping, we’ll continue to grow.”

Ibara: “The latest information about Eden is always posted on the official SNS. Please take make use of it☆

Thank you for coming today! We’ll see you soon, salute~♪”

#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #ibara saegusa #nagisa ran #hiyori tomoe #jun sazanami #era: !!#type: miscellaneous

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mikachacha · 8 months

Text

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 (𝙱𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝙸𝚍𝚘𝚕! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

Synopsis: Bada has been in love with you for three years but didn't have the courage to really ask you out until you accidentally revealed that you're crushing on Bada during the interview you did with Jessi

Warnings: some language and tooth rotting fluff 🤧🤧🫶🫶

(A/N: I'm just trying to get most of my planned stories done because I have a special announcement coming up 🤧)

🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸

Bada sighs as she stands outside your apartment door, nervously waiting for you to come out. She finally found the courage to ask you out for a date. She has been in love with you for three years now but she couldn't make a move since you're an idol and you were prohibited to date. But then everything changed when you accidentally admitted in an interview you had with Jessi, that you are crushing on your choreographer and close friend, Bada Lee.

Jessi was even shocked at your accidental confession. One, everyone thought you were straight as hell and two, she always thought you liked a fellow idol, not your choreographer. When that interview came out, Bada felt like she just won the lottery. Being in love with you for three years and seeing that there's a huge chance for you to feel the same way, Bada threw all precaution out of the window and asked you on a date when you finished rehearsing the choreography for your latest single. You were surprised at first but agreed to go out with Bada because you'd be an idiot if you said no. Plus you're under new management anyways, no one's telling you what to do with your life anymore.

"Hi, how long were you waiting?" you asked when you finally got out of your apartment. Bada's cheeks were warm when she saw you. You looked so beautiful wearing that white dress with a baby blue jacket. It's simple yet it brings out your natural beauty.

"H-hi.. I just got here for a few minutes so it wasn't that long." she says and hands you a bouquet of flowers which you took with a smile. You loved the effort Bada put into this date, it made you swoon. Yeah you dated men before but none of them really made you feel like you're the most beautiful girl in the world. The way Bada looked at you with so much love in her eyes got your heart melting at the sight.

Bada led you to her car, opening the door for you and even securing your seatbelt for you that got you swooning even more. She drove to this fastfood restaurant you picked out because you really didn't want to go to a fancy restaurant on your first date. You wanted the vibes to be chill, to be fun, where you can just laugh with her and eat what you want without worrying way too much.

"This is much better than I expected.." you gasped out as you entered with Bada, arms linked together. She smiles seeing how happy you looked even with simple things. That's what made her fall for you in the first place. Back when you were still in a group, you were the kindest, the simplest and would prefer to stay back and talk with staff, back up dancers like Bada and would even share a meal with them. Then you went for a solo career. Staff and other people who worked with you are always blessed by how caring you are to them then you picked Bada as your choreographer even if she wasn't that known yet.

"You really are adorable." Bada chuckles and leads you to a booth where you were sat across from each other. Both of you ordered your food and while waiting, you took out your phone and took pictures of you and Bada going out on your first date.

"I really wanna cherish this moment. It's not everyday I get asked out by my crush.." you gushed that got Bada laughing and taking her phone out before she took adorable pictures of you.

"It's not everyday that my crush agrees to go out on a date with me so I'm taking lots of pictures as proof that she did go out with me." Bada said and you could swear that you're as red as the ketchup now. You still couldn't believe that you and Bada are crushing on each other. It still feels like a wonderful dream to you.

The date went smoothly, you got to know each other pretty well. Very well that it felt like you've already known each other for 20 years. You shared childhood memories, some stories about your lives and even some embarrassing stories from childhood to highschool life that earned some laughs between you two. You genuinely enjoyed the night you spent with Bada and hoped there would be more.

Ever since that night, both of you only got closer and closer. You'd sometimes crash at her place or she'd crash at yours to hang out, maybe watch a movie while cuddled up to each other. Bada couldn't get enough of you and you felt the same. Rumors of you and her dating has been an ongoing topic on gossip sites but you didn't care. You just let them speculate since you're just enjoying the love Bada showers you with. When you're not too busy, you'd go out on little dates with Bada and you even met her team which was a delight since they're all really nice to you.

"Badaaaaaa I have something to tell you real quick." you called out to Bada and she looked at you, a bit confused. They're all now preparing since they're shooting for Street Woman Fighter's first episode. You were the first to know about the good news since Bada was at your place when she received the email of them being selected to join the competition.

"What is it? You okay?" Bada asked, concerned and you just smiled as you hugged her. It's been a few months since you and Bada started this situation and you felt like you're ready to take it a step further with her. You've never been so sure in your life.

"Bada, I want us to be officially girlfriends now.." you whispered to her and Bada could swear she froze for a moment when she heard those words that she's been waiting for you to say. She then looks at you, then your face to find any hints of you joking around but you looked sincere though very much amused by her reaction.

"Oh my god.. Hold on, let me just process this. Honestly my mind is still processing what you just said." Bada says and you were already shaking from laughter.

"Yeah go ahead and take your time.." you told her and it was after five minutes that the information finally sank in her brain. She hugged you tight and kissed your lips, she's just way too happy that after three long years of being in love with you, she can finally call you her girlfriend.

"Damn I love you so much.. I'll get back to you and we'll talk about this some more after we're done with this. I swear I'll do my best to make you proud." Bada said before they were called for the shooting already. You nodded and kissed her cheek before sending her off.

It has been exactly two months since you and Bada became official that you asked her to move in with you. It was more convenient that way since your place is closer to the studio and a bit bigger so you can let team Bebe crash in as well especially when they finish working so late in the night. Living with Bada has been pure bliss. You loved waking up next to her even if she wakes up really early. It just tied everything together and you couldn't be any happier.

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada x reader #lee bada #swf2 #swf2 x reader

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