#dias drabbles

[eternallyfrustratedwriter]

I just had a thought: If Ikemen Prince took place in the modern day then Clavis would probably have a running gag of telling random people that Chev is short for Chevrolet. And every time this happens Chevalier just heaves a deep sigh as he tries to resist the urge to throttle Clavis.

[eternallyfrustratedwriter]

I could not think of anything more inaccurate.

I found this site that generates you a random headcanon.... How about we do that: you enter the name of a character (or your OC!), post what you got, and then comment on how true do you think it is for them!

Not true. That was very easy.

Who's next!!! @judejazza @mcwentfandomtraveling @sh0jun @lorei-writes @groovylita @queengiuliettafirstlady @scummy-writes @ludivineikewolf @yarnnerdally @yanderepuck @vioisgoinginsane @venulus @fang-and-feather @leonscape @writingwhimsey @foreverxdaydreaming @keithsandwich @verynormaluser

[spiderman2-99]

Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration. When the dead return home, the day is filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

They’ve been extinct since 2095, actually. How hadn’t he known? That should've been something he'd figured out sooner, right? But no, he finds out a week before the day itself while he’s trying to make Gabriella’s ofrenda.

What does his beloved baby girl, who he would’ve given the world a thousand times over, get instead? Paper flowers.

Paper flowers instead of real ones, possessions that represented her instead of properly being hers, a half-done altar that was done in a manic, grief-fueled haze.

It’s paltry. Miguel knows it is. But it’s all he can give, and by God, he hates it. He tried to make it up in home-made pan de muerto and fresh fruit and her favorite dinners, in the carefully arranged papel picado garlands, in finding actual copal to burn… but it’s not enough. It could never be enough.

It’s been a long time since he’d last made an ofrenda, actually. He fell out of the tradition sometime when he was in college, when he was young and unburdened and selfish and so, so stupid, and had convinced himself he had much more important things to do with his time than honor traditions.

Sometimes, he wants to reach out to that little twerp and beat him senseless.

No, he wants to laugh, or scream, or pull his hair out. It’s a sick joke; a cruel jab at his expense, that he only started giving a shit about his own cultural holidays again after Gabi died, when he could no longer share the homemade food with her, help her learn about the significance.

It feels so wrong, being unable to share this with his daughter. Having the altar be dedicated to her, instead of her helping him set it up; teaching her how to make the banners and arrange flowers and bake bread, entertaining whatever thousands of questions she’d have about the holiday and her great-great-whoever’s they’d be celebrating. What would she have thought of the chicken and chile rellenos? Of the Calaveritas? The toys he left out?

Hijo de puta. A parent isn’t supposed to outlive their child.

It’s a pathetic altar too, as far as he’s concerned. Miguel hadn't done this in so long that he'd nearly forgotten how to; having to go on the internet just to remember the guidelines. Even then, there were so many conflicting answers that it left him confused and flying blind the whole damn time.

Did he do enough as a father to honor her? Did the ofrenda do her memory justice? Did he do anything right? Is there enough salt to purify her body? Enough water and food to provide for her long journey? Was the copal actually supposed to be incense, or did it have a different meaning? Are the purple candles placed correctly? Would tissue paper marigolds, devoid of scent and life, be enough guide her safely back home?

These worries swarm like vultures to a carcass, picking at and tormenting him to the point where he can barely stand to look at the stupid, thrown-together thing any longer. He should know how to do this— today is much more than just a holiday; Día de Muerto and all of its rich traditions should be a part of who he is, steeped in his identity, his culture. It should be more familiar than breathing.

But now it just makes him ache, seeing how he couldn’t even properly commemorate his own little girl.

In a brief moment of clarity, Miguel realizes he really just should’ve just taken more time to research and plan it out better. If only it weren’t for the constant high-stakes responsibilities, the needs of far too many all on his shoulders, the people, people, people.

Not like he didn’t try; Halloween and all day yesterday, Miguel had been rushing uncharacteristically through work, trying to get caught up enough to take time off. But of course, God had it out for him and practically half the damn Society wanted to barge into his office to badger him about something. He ended up with a shock-ton of random gifts and baked goods on his desk that he’d unceremoniously pawned off to Peter B. (save for a bottle of Don Julio, but the other man didn’t need to know that), enough sanguine well-wishes to last him a lifetime, and high blood pressure.

And the time and effort he scraped up still wasn’t enough to get it done right. It could never be good enough. He could never be good enough.

Miguel can’t stop second-guessing himself, can’t stop that all too familiar spiral of guilt and self-loathing that rots away at his insides like necrosis. He’s a scientist and an engineer, for shocksake— logic and reason should override his emotions, should stop them from clouding him at all. But all he can do is sit there, staring at the sorry excuse for an ofrenda with a lump in his throat and a throbbing headache that won’t go away.

Today couldn’t have gone any worse.

His joints pop viciously as he gets up from the floor just to prove him wrong. Cristo en el cielo.

The only bright side to this whole thing is that… well, no one is here. No one to see his embarrassment, or his failure; no one to question him, or ask him how he’s feeling, or try to give a hug, or any more goddamn food. It’s just him and his ever-spiraling thoughts and the grief that threatens to consume him whole.

Carefully, with a trembling hand, he lights the incense, then the candles, the golden glow dancing around his otherwise dark apartment. It… almost makes it look better. Less like a broken down man’s sorry attempt at repentance and more like a proper ofrenda.

Almost.

Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration, filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

[babiigirly]

cw: season 3 spoilers, marriage, kids, not proof read and probably has a ton of grammatical errors because i am currently fighting sleepiness as i am writing this

Diavolo grew up without ever hearing the voice of his own mother?

His father neglected him and was overly strict with him, leaving him unsure if it was because he was next to the throne or if it was because his birth took the life of his wife?

And growing up isolated from everyone in the outside world and being a stranger to his world's nature?

Being forced to take a huge responsibility upon his shoulders despite not yet being king?

Always trying to make sure he makes the right and perfect choices and decisions to ensure everyone's safety, but still questions his worthiness to the throne? And many more happening?

All of that until he met you. He felt comfortable and secure with you around. He was in peace and at rest whenever you were there. At first, he thought it was only a feeling of friendship. Until it grew and grew and grew, and the next thing he knows, he wants to marry you, to be with you forever.

If you two ever do get married and have a child or children, he would always do his best to be an amazing and adventurous dad to them. He would be the dad he never had.

He would never pressure them about trying to be the perfect future ruler of the Devildom. He would even encourage them to make friends with their peers.

He would take them out to safe-for-children places in the Devildom and even bring them to your world, the human realm, and perhaps meet their grandparents (your parents) who are maybe aware that you married a demon king and had children with him, depends on what you two decided on.

He wants to be your everything. Best husband, best dad.

[bonbonly]

now that you mention it... how about some sugar daddy!nico thoughts when you have time?

he seems like he'd take you to a fancy restaurant and then make you sit in his lap and cockwarm him in public!!

back on my computer for like an hour or two so you bet im writing this 😭 also my queen every time i write something nico related YOU are my target audience i hope you know that LMFAO

bon's thoughts (18+)

sugar daddy!nico rosberg is definitely the type of person to take you to the fanciest of places. i had this idea that he might take you to those vintage old-age plays in those grand theaters, booking a balcony seat at the very front so you can see the stage up close. the only catch is that you're warming his cock, the dimly lit theater an advantage to what he has planned for you for the night. you're probably squirming on his laps, whispering if you could please just move a bit, just a tiny bit that's all! and he leans in close to whisper into your ear, "hase, you've been doing so good for me just a few more minutes, hm? just a few more, don't worry! sit tight and i'll reward you well after..."

he's bringing your hand to his lips, kissing each of your fingers and letting his mouth ghost over your shoulder before nipping gently. the entire time you're trying to hold back your whines, especially when you glance back to him and he's guiding your face back to the stage, chuckling into your ear, "you wanted to see this play, right? go watch the play, i'm right here..." he loves to see you begging, begging for him to let you roll your hips. your whimpers are masked by the thunderous applause from the crowd below as the second act comes to a close.

even when you're not warming his cock, i assume he'd have you just sit on his lap for fun, an arm draped around his neck as he's sipping some wine and glancing to you with all hearts in his eyes. he's definitely super sweet, doting on you and praising you no matter what you do. you're his good little bunny, he loves you to death! but.... but if you were acting out? oh, complete switch of personality, this man isn't afraid of anything or anyone. you wanted to be a brat and make a scene in front of his colleagues? he'll turn to his friend and out loud say, "she's a dumb whore, she'll snap right back don't worry" and while that stuns them, he can see you slowly start to quiet down. oh, and if you're across the room? loudly talking about how nico could do much better than the trips he has planned for you, he's sending you a glare. all he has to do is give you that look of disdain, and you're already crawling back to him, standing besides him with a pout on your lips, asking if he could take you back to the hotel.

in the hotel room, he's not even going to acknowledge you. no like hear me out on this, you're on your knees showing him how sorry you are, but his eyes are elsewhere - on the phone, newspaper, maybe looking right above your head, not directly at you. you're doing everything you can to please him: kitten licks on the tip of his cock, mouth gliding up his shaft, taking him as far your cute throat can take you. you even push yourself some more to gag, tears pricking at your eyes not just because of the stretch, but because you want him to give you some conformation that he forgives you. if he's feeling forgiving, he'll take you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses, telling you that what you did was wrong. and if he isn't? you better get on that damn bed and spread your legs, your fingers deep in your cunt because the only way he'll turn to look at you is if he hears the squelching of your juices, tempting him to come drink what's rightfully his.

[eternallyfrustratedwriter]

Adria: Adria and I both enjoy reading to escape reality. She's a lot more physically active than me, though, and most of her hobbies are outside. I think we could get along though.

Does your OC have things in common with you? If you were to meet, do you think you would get along?

Check pinned post for event details.

[zoyasribbon]

DOMESTIC DELIGHTS — r. dias

ೃ࿐ summary : The moments spent with your family, they are the most precious in your life, a pure delight that bring solace to your soul. And on this specific Sunday afternoon, this one, you are poised to savor every bit of it.

ೃ࿐ words : 0,7k.

ೃ࿐ genre : mature. fluff. suggestive.

ೃ࿐ warning : cute daughter-father moments, sexual tension.

ೃ࿐ author's note : Despite my deep disdain for Man City (while I do acknowledge Pep's genius football philosophy), I must confess—I find myself particularly attracted to some players... and a certain 6’2 Portuguese center-back has managed to steal my heart. Ugh, what can I sayyyyy, what can I sayyyyy.

You were drawn by the soft, deep chuckles emitted by your husband, guiding you towards the entrance of the living room, where you discreetly pushed the door ajar. 

There he was.

Rúben. 

Dressed in his black Puma sweatpants and a simple, white undershirt, he was doing push-ups with your little daughter perched on his broad, muscular back. Her cheerful, high-pitched voice counted his progress as he effortlessly raised and lowered his body multiple times. You observed them tenderly: the pure joy and trust of your child blending with Rúben's extraordinary strength and patience. Home.

If he noticed you leaning against the doorframe, he said nothing... and you couldn’t help but admire his new three-day stubble beard, a bit more developed than usual, complementing his charming face. 

Suddenly, he twisted to one side, landing on the floor while effortlessly lifting your excited little girl with his sturdy arms before gently placing her on his firm stomach. A timid chuckle escaped your lips at this heartwarming sight. But this gesture didn't deter him from maintaining a somewhat intense gaze that met yours, igniting a fire within you.

"Go play in the garden, princesa. I'll do a few more and then join you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. As his words prompted her to dash out of the room, flashing you a mischievous smile in passing, the room fell into an almost oppressive silence. Only Rúben's erratic breathing and the sudden accelerated beats of your heart seemed to animate the space. 

He eventually raised himself from the floor, taking his sweet time to stand, his brown eyes never leaving your burning gaze for a second. 

Rúben's smile took on a different shade as he crossed the room to approach you, leaving only a few brief inches between you. His arms, marked by the effort, found support on the wooden doorframe, not far from your head, asserting his dominance in height. 

In the depth of his gaze, you discerned the glint of a tantalizing promise.

"You didn't have to stop, you know?" you innocently scolded, letting your right hand wander from his neck, to his left flank and to his hip. You made sure your nails lightly grazed his skin through the thin white fabric, intending for him to feel your provocation. As you did, you sensed a trickle of sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to his still-toned abs, evidence of his numerous push-ups. 

In just a few seconds, his body responded. Engulfed in goosebumps that hinted at desire, Rúben's eyelids trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Though your line of sight didn't reveal it, you were certain that his fingers fervently clutched the doorframe, evidenced by the emerging veins on his glistening shoulders. 

He was on the verge of losing control. The mere thought elevated the corner of your lips into a sly smile, concealing the pleasure you took in this little teasing game. You must admit, you were very in the mood to play today. After all, Rúben simply had no business being so sexy on this delightful spring afternoon. 

Your right hand, still placed on his hip, dared to venture even further beneath the fabric of his black tracksuit to bring him even more closer to you and explore the skin of his lower back and his firm bottom, leading him to open his mouth slightly, letting out a timid gasp. 

Unable to resist the excruciating slowness of your caresses, he leaned forward, daring “Why? Do you want to keep watching?” he managed to inquire with an innocent tone, though mischief lingered within. 

His alluring, plump lips so close to yours beckoned, yet you resisted the temptation they promised... at least for the moment. You knew what he expected from you at this moment, but you just wouldn't comply. You were far too determined to win this battle. 

Nevertheless, the warm breath escaping his mouth was enough to slightly distract you. In that moment, you even forgot your somewhat disheveled appearance—your hair was in a messy bun, and you still had your apron on, still warm from the breath of the oven you had opened to check the crumb-topped salmon you were preparing. 

This seemed not to bother Rúben, whose gaze remained just as fiery and thirsty. His fingers sought revenge, gently sweeping aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen during your observation, trailing across your cheek, your neck, before finally resting on your nape. Then his entire hand delicately settled upon it. Your eyes were nearly completely mesmerized by the movement of his lips. Ruben's voice became huskier and smoother. “Or maybe you want a turn too."

[footballffbarbiex]

player: Rúben Dias type: smut words: 1k+ warnings: hand jobs, tiddy sucking, light dirty talk

a/n: ok so while I was looking through the Dias tag for a pic of him for something, I saw this ask and it's fuelled this. thank you @yutofia for the inspiration and letting me adapt your interaction! (I realise that hers wasn't the only one sent and written but it was the first one that I'd seen)

_

you'd known the effect it would have on him the moment the soft fabric fell into place on your body. you'd wanted a summer dress like it for a while and when your fingers had danced along the racks of clothing in the store until they'd landed on this, the very last one in your size, it had seemed like fate. not only was it the perfect length but it hugged all the right places and still remained flowing for the other places.

Rúben had seemed incapable of keeping his hands off you as the evening ticked by and even though you'd left the villa wearing underwear, you'd been requested to remove these during dinner and they were now tucked into his back pocket. you listened with little interest as he made small talk with his friends before everyone was retiring to their rooms. your attention and thoughts fully on his fingers stroking over your ass, down to the hem of the skirt and gently caressed the skin at the top of your thigh before going back up to your waist and beginning the journey back down again.

he made it look so casual, a simple absentminded touch that no-one would think anything of but it was beginning to drive you crazy and keeping your features in check was proving more difficult with each passing exchange between each touch.

and yet, despite the way you craved him, you'd held your composure and hadn't jumped him the second the door had closed. you'd busied yourself, pretending that what he'd just done hadn't had the effect on you that the two of you knew perfectly well had been had.

Rúben sits patiently watching you from the sofa, his eyes never leave your body as you move. but as patient as Rúben is, he can't stay still for too long and his patience only lasts so long. "are you going to come over here or do I need to beg?"

"I don't think I've ever known you to beg," you tell him as you finish lighting some candles for a spot of ambience.

by the time you look back at him, there's a tent pitching at his waist and a look on his face that you can't ignore. "what's wrong Rúbe?"

"nothing,"

"no?" you push him for an answer, your voice dropping low and dare you even say sultry. you hum a little as you climb onto his lap and his hands reach your waist, thumbs stroking over as much area as they possibly can.

"no." he says with as much certainty as he can.

"no?" you try again as your hand drops to your lap and though you barely grasp him through his clothing, you do swipe your thumb over the head of his cock and he groans. "I thought maybe you wanted something." you mutter to yourself as you peer down between your bodies, noting out of your peripheral vision the way his chest rises and falls a little faster than normal as your hand wraps around his shaft and squeezes just enough to feel him throb against your palm.

"I don't know what gave you tha-mmmmm, fuck" he groans and you feel his hips move beneath you as you dip you hand into his bottoms. he feels warm and thick in your grip and as much as you'd love to slip between his thighs, sink to your knees and use your mouth on him, you begin to stroke him, slow and steady in an even rhythm.

"you did." when you finally look up, he leans forward, trying to capture your lips with his own. a look of confusion twists across his features as you pull away and shake your head. "oh baby no. you thought you could tease me while we were out and that you could get your own way?" you ask him and frown at him as you shake your head. "that's not how this works."

with your free hand, you tug down the sleeves enough to be able pull the front of your dress down without resistance, exposing your boobs enough for your nipple to become visible. "if you want me to be good to you, you need to apologise." you say quietly, trying to hold back the smirk that threatens to twist the corner of your mouth upwards as he gets the message loud and clear. his hair brushes against your shoulder as his mouth searches for your nipple, his tongue eagerly swiping out and wets it.

you arch your back, allowing him slightly better access while enabling you to keep your hand stroking up and down. the buttery soft skin of his shaft glides through your fist as you near the velvety head and once there, you swirl and twist your hand over the head, stimulating the nerves there before dragging your hand back down again.

Rúben whines, the sound of it vibrating against your skin and directly onto your pebbled nipple. the longer he drags out the moan, his teeth close around your tight bud and his facial hair scrapes over your skin making you hum from the sensation. "that's it baby, let me know how good this feels for you."

the hand which isn't stroking his cock reaches up and runs the fingers through his short hair, occasionally tugging on the short strands just to make him growl and look up at you. had his fingers been deep within your pussy, he'd have made a comment about feeling you throb. even without his fingers inside you to make a mess between your thighs, you're certain that you'll be climbing from him and leaving a wet patch on his clothing.

"God I love that the closer you are to cumming, the harder and faster you suck. you give yourself away too easily baby," you mock. "maybe I should slow down," you comment and deliberately slow your pace, "or stop altogether."

"don't," Rúben's hand wraps around yours, covering it in it's entirety and forces your hand to resume the rhythm that you'd previously set. he keeps his eyes locked with yours as his tongue swirls and flicks over your nipple in ways that he would had his face been between your thighs. he knows this and so do you. the slight smirk that appears as your eyelids grow heavy as lust consumes you makes you grind your ass into his lap.

"some apology this is," you feign a huff and his smirk turns into a grin.

"you're enjoying yourself, don't lie." he says quietly, his mouth fully away from your skin unlike previous attempts at speaking where your breast would still be within lip distance. he pulls his gaze from you momentarily and lightly blows cold air over your wet skin, making your areola pucker tightly, your nipple to tingle which in turn triggers your core to clench hopelessly around nothing and the cold sensation to do exactly what he intended by making you whine a little.

"ah, ah." he says, shaking his head with disapproval. "denying it will get you nowhere. you've already been teased enough tonight which is why you're making such a song and dance about this. now, i can think of much worse ways to spend my evening than having my cock stroked while sucking on your nipples, but what I really want is to be able to go down on you, maybe give you one or two orgasms and then fuck you. so you have two choices, we can sit here, teasing each other for however long for whatever reason, or you can lay on the sofa here and let me fin-" he didn't need to finish his sentence. you'd heard enough.

your hands pull up your skirt as you climb from his lap, pulling up the fabric until it rides high on your hips and your pussy is exposed as your legs fall open.

"that, was the right answer."

[the-offside-rule]

Ruben Dias (Manchester City) - Wrap It Up

Day 17 of Christmas

Prompt: Wrapping a Gift

25 Days of Christmas

Y/n and Ruben sat side by side on the floor of their cozy living room, a fire crackling softly in the fireplace, and Christmas music playing in the background. The warm glow of the lights from the Christmas tree cast a soft light across the room, highlighting the dozens of gifts piled around them. “Alright, are you ready?” Ruben asked, his dark eyes gleaming with competitive energy as he eyed the roll of wrapping paper in front of him.

Y/n smirked, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, I was born ready. But don’t get too cocky, Ruben. You might be good at football, but I’ve got years of present-wrapping experience.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.” They’d set up a challenge: Each would pick three gifts from the pile, wrap them to the best of their ability, and then the winner would be crowned the Christmas Wrapping Champion. The stakes? The loser would have to cook Christmas breakfast the next morning.

Ruben reached for his first box, a small, square one. Easy. He grabbed his favorite plaid wrapping paper and set to work, cutting out a piece with precision. Y/n watched out of the corner of her eye, trying to focus on her own gift—a large, oddly shaped one that looked like it might have been a stuffed animal. She huffed as she fumbled with the paper, trying to make sure it didn't crinkle too much.

“This is child’s play.” Ruben said smugly as he folded the edges of his wrapping paper perfectly. His hands worked quickly, folding, cutting, and taping in neat, seamless movements. “Don’t get too comfortable.” Y/n muttered, biting her lip as she finally managed to secure the edges of her gift. It wasn’t as smooth as she’d like, but she knew she could make up for it with the ribbon. She grabbed a gold one and tied it in a perfect bow, smirking at her own creativity.

“Done!” Ruben announced proudly, holding up his first wrapped gift, perfectly square with not a single piece of tape visible. Y/n raised an eyebrow, trying not to let her nerves show. “Not bad,” she admitted, glancing at her own work. The gift might not have been as clean, but it was festive, and the bow added a nice touch. “But I’m not done yet.”

She grabbed her next gift; a cylindrical one, which was always tricky. Ruben’s confidence only grew as he started on his second gift, a long, narrow one that was much easier to handle. He worked quickly, folding the edges neatly, while Y/n wrestled with her wrapping paper, trying to get it to sit evenly around the awkward shape. “You know-” Ruben said with a playful grin. “There’s no shame in admitting defeat. I mean, you could always just make me breakfast now and save yourself the trouble.”

“Ha! You wish.” Y/n shot back, finally managing to secure the last piece of tape on her gift. “I’m just warming up.” They both worked in silence for the next few minutes, the competitive tension rising as they raced to finish their last gifts. Y/n was on a roll now, her fingers flying as she wrapped her final present, a perfectly rectangular box that allowed her to show off her skills. She used silver paper this time, adding a big red bow to finish it off. When they both finished, they sat back to admire their handiwork.

“Okay, let’s judge.” Y/n said, standing up to survey the gifts. Ruben’s gifts were near perfect, neat edges, flawless taping, everything symmetrical. It was clear he’d taken his time with each one, and Y/n had to admit, they were impressive. But her gifts had personality. Sure, they weren’t as smooth or pristine, but they had flair. The mismatched bows, the colorful paper, and the little personalized name tags she’d added gave them a festive, cozy feel. They both stared at each other’s pile for a moment before Ruben crossed his arms, a grin on his face. “So, who’s the winner?”

Y/n chewed her lip, pretending to think it over. “Well… yours are very neat, I’ll give you that. But mine have character.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Ruben teased. “Alright, fine, I admit yours look like they were wrapped by a professional.” Y/n said with a mock sigh. “But you have to admit mine are more fun.” Ruben chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, I’ll give you points for creativity. But neatness is kind of important, too.”

“Hmm, let’s call it a tie then.” Y/n suggested, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “A tie?” Ruben raised an eyebrow. “You just don’t want to lose and make breakfast tomorrow.” Y/n laughed, leaning closer to him. “Or maybe I’m just trying to get you to cook with me.” Ruben grinned, pulling her into his arms. “Alright, fine. We’ll make breakfast together. But next year, I’m coming for the win.”

[oh-saints]

Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)

aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh

silent

rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.

rúben dias x photographer!you

wc: 2.7k

note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead <3

“cupcakes!”

you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.

“come sit over with us!”

unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.

you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.

you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.

if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.

before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.

“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”

being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.

but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.

for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.

which was exactly why you should be worried.

you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.

sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.

your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.

it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.

and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.

with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.

no, the portugese was lost.

contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.

his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.

you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.

but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.

at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.

the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?

(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)

his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?

but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”

so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?

rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.

and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.

with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.

rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.

a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.

he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.

was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?

rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.

“does she have a boyfriend?”

but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.

jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”

“i thought you guys are close.”

“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”

“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”

“have you tried?”

rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”

“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.

bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.

rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.

he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.

at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.

“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”

your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.

you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.

“is there anything i can help you with?”

“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.

or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.

“do you hate me?”

you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.

“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.

the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.

“no, i don’t.”

another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”

realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”

before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”

you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.

rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.

“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”

so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?

you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”

rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”

“i do—”

“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”

[dias-writing-corner]

Tw public sex mention, Kylar the loner, slight mention of breath play? Idk he wants to drown you a little, possessive

Kylars the type of freak to rub a hard on up against your ass in public even though you made him cum before leaving for the house. His ass is insatiable. Clinging to your waist with his arms as you talk to someone else, his green eyes glaring at them as he grinds his dick on your butt. You do what you can to ignore him, a stupid mutt like him will never learn no matter how hard you try to train him. He starts whispering in your ear begging you to pls let him fuck you, let him fuck you in front of this person, he wants to show them that your his. He doesn’t care if the two of you are at the park. Kylar begins describing what he wants to do to you - bend you over the side of the fountain and fuck you in front of everyone. If someone tried to take your mouth he’d shove your head under the fountain water.

[eternallyfrustratedwriter]

Little things like this are why I love Chev so much.

[thatsdemko]

cookies -r.dias

warnings: not intended for minors + some spelling/grammar errors

a/n: idk what compelled me to write this but enjoy

whisking batter, soft incoherent noises in the background, you’re buried deep into your thoughts. the ovens preheating, the dough is ready to be made it into cookies, and Ruben dias is just arriving home from practice.

he’s not quiet with his arrival, he never is, but that’s what makes him unique. he turns down the long hallway and into the kitchen to find a beautiful sight; you in a red lacy nightie.

the smell of brown sugar and the sweetness of chocolate chips seems to fade into the back of his mind while another sense comes into the forefront of his mind: pleasure. it’s not one of the six senses, but damn it should be with the way his cock is pulsating in his athletic shorts.

he doesn’t say a thing, and he doesn’t need to. just presses his palm against your ass, thumb strumming the intricate details of the lace. a soft hum escapes your lips, you bend your body into a forward fold, back straightened, hands pressed into the cold granite counter. he takes this as a sign of consent, dropping his pants down to his ankles.

his two thumbs on each cheek, he spreads them with not even a lift of his finger before entering. you’re not sure if it’s all of him. to be fair, it never is, but with tonight’s sighting he’s sure to see what you can take making him feel such a way.

your eyes shut, heart thumping against your chest, you feel his cock pumping inside you, each stroke becoming more powerful and aggressive as he digs deeper.

no words are exchanged, just heavy breathing. he watches your fingers turn white, your grip is becoming loose against the counter, his cock dripping in your wetness as he inches himself further inside until you’re babbling words that just aren’t even anything. he chuckles to himself, your bodies are like one, he can feel your clit trembling at his touch, your legs shake with each earth shattering movement.

you’re sure you’ve come by now, but that doesn’t stop him. not even the sound of the oven up to temperature, not even him breaking a sweat stops him. it’s not until he finally comes that pulls back, and steps away.

“you up for some cookies?” you muster up the words, they slide soft off your tongue as you turn around to face him. your tits are fallen out of the cups, your face is glistening with sweat and somehow that makes his cock wet all over again.

“I could eat,” he pauses for a second wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, “but I really only want to eat you.” his fingers dig into your hips, he slides you up onto the counter and spreads your legs up over his shoulders.

the slightest touch of him sends your head slamming into the cupboard, a moan escapes your lips as he tongue cleans your inner thighs. he’s good with everything, but his tongue is the hottest part of him. the burn of his cheeks against your skin, the hot breath that fills you up, and the softness of his tongue, it could all send you overboard.

his tongue inches inward, expanding your folds and your entrance. you feel the need to clamp around him, claim him as your only source of energy, but your body shakes. you can’t get a grip on him and he just keeps exploring further into he’s hit your clit once again. the spot washes you with pleasure, your body shakes like it did before, and his face is covered in you. every inch.

“dessert is served.” you breath outward, it’s heavy and uneasy,you watch him lick himself clean like s man hungry for more.

“better than cookies.”

[thenukacolachallenge]

In defense of the One Piece Live Action Adaptation’s stylistic choices: A Cosmetologist’s Perspective

Hello! My name is Dia, and I’ve been a licensed cosmetologist since 2015(almost a decade now!). For those unaware of what exactly that entails, cosmetology is traditionally defined as ‘the professional skill or practice of beautifying the face, hair, and skin’. For me specifically, I have worked in the fields of hairstyling/haircutting/hair coloring, skincare, nail care, and makeup application(both traditional makeup and FX makeup) in my eight years of being licensed to work in these industries.

The reason I’m making this post today is to talk about the Netflix adaptation of the hit manga/anime One Piece, and specifically to address a lot of complaints I’ve seen about the wardrobe, makeup, and hair choices of the main cast thus far. I’ve seen quite a bit in the way of complaints, and a lot of it seems to be, to put it as politely as I can, not based in reality of how makeup, hair, and acting in general works, and I’d like to address some of it to possibly explain why certain choices were made, to maybe help people come to a better understanding of the why and how of these sorts of decisions.

I’d like to also, before I dive in, note that I am not in any way, shape, or form affiliated with this production! These are merely my personal thoughts and speculation as someone with some experience in this field. None of this is set in stone unless I provide evidence from the cast and crew to back my claims up. As well, I’d like to point out that I have next to no experience working on film sets(I have worked on VERY small productions in the past, for things that go up on sites like Youtube and not Netflix lmao), but I am married to a person who has a degree in film and has worked on live production sets before, and I did defer to them for a lot of the knowledge that I lack with live action production specifically.

I’d also like to point out that while I’m not mad at anyone who has the critiques I cover in this post, I may come across as a bit exasperated. I promise this isn’t me being angry at anyone, but more of just.... I’ve seen the same critiques over and over again, and to me, a lot of the choices seem fairly obvious as to why they were made, and some of the critiques come across as extremely silly to me. This is of course due to my own background related to these sorts of things. I promise I mean no offense or disrespect to anyone saying these things! I just want to make this to be able to help others understand why production may have made the choices they did.

Now, under the cut, I’ll be discussing some common complaints I’ve heard with regards to this production, and provide some potential explanation as to why these changes were made. On to the post! It is quite hefty, so please bear with me.

~

First and foremost, the most common complaint I’ve seen thus far is some variation of the phrase “I’ve seen cosplayers that look more accurate to the characters than this show does,” and I’d like to address this one first, as I think it’s the one that probably frustrates me the most. It specifically frustrates me because comparing cosplayers to actors feels like an apples to oranges situation. The two groups are designed to do entirely different things! Cosplayers do typically look more like the characters they portray than a live action actor will, and that’s a very common occurrence, but there’s a reason for that: the two groups are not doing the same thing. 

Both cosplayers and actors put a huge amount of time and effort into their work, and I love cosplay personally. However, cosplayers are typically in their outfits for 8-10 hour days at most for a weekend, doing things like photoshoots where they have to pose, walking around conventions, and maybe filming a small amount of video(Not to say that this takes no effort! Please do not take this as such, I have helped friends with cosplays and I fully understand and appreciate the level of dedication and hard work that goes into it!). Actors, on the other hand, are in hair and makeup on set for 10-12 hours a day(if not longer) for weeks to months on end, and have to be fully in character while filming, as well as(specifically for a show like One Piece) doing things like stunt work, being submerged in water, and being on boats with lots of wind and ocean spray. There are certain things you simply cannot do, hair/makeup/costume-wise as an actor that you can as a cosplayer, so I really don’t think this comparison in specific is being very fair to the actors and the crew who are in charge of makeup, hair, and wardrobe in this case.

I’ll be getting into a lot more specifics below, but I will be deferring to my main point here very often, which is this: The safety and comfort of the actors is far more important than 1-to-1 accuracy in the way cosplayers can do, especially for minor changes in appearance.

Now that I’ve addressed that specifically, I’d like to move onto some common complaints I’ve heard for each specific main cast member, and my opinion on these complaints, as well as listing potential reasons as to why these things may have been changed!

~

We’ll start with everyone’s favorite funky little pirate king, Monkey D. Luffy:

For Luffy, the number one complaint I’ve seen is the live action’s choice in shoes. in the manga/anime, Luffy wears and fights in flip-flops, but this was changed in the live action. This was changed for a very simple reason, and Emily Rudd, the actor that portrays Nami, actually addressed this on Instagram while being asked by a fan:

Simply put, trying to do the kind of stunt work that Luffy has to do is not safe in a shoe like a flip flop. This is something that falls very completely under my original point of the comfort and safety of the actors being more important than 100% accuracy. It would be entirely too easy for Iñaki or someone he’s in a scene with to get hurt if he weren’t wearing the proper footwear. Fairly simple explanation there!

This is really the only gripe with Luffy costume-wise I could find, to be honest! I have seen a few people saying that he doesn’t have his signature undereye scar, but he does, although it’s not as visible as it is in the original work:

They kept him fairly true to the spirit of his original character, and although I don’t know why they chose to give him this specific potato shoe footwear, it is what they went with, and the main takeaway is that it was for safety reasons.

~

Onto our favorite wayward booze-loving swordsman, Roronoa Zoro:

Similarly to Luffy, I’ve only seen one main complaint regarding Zoro, and it involves his use of swords. In the anime/manga, Zoro has pioneered a specific fighting style called “Santoryu”, known in English as “Three Sword Style”: one sword in each hand, and a third in his mouth.

I’ve seen several people wondering where his third sword(the one that goes in the mouth) is from the trailers, and I was initially wondering this as well, since in most of his action scenes that have been revealed so far, he seems to only be holding either one sword or two. However, there was a brief clip(I’m talking, like, maybe one second) of him utilizing his three-swords style in the teaser trailer released in mid-June:

Now, as to potential reasons as to why this seems to be the only clip of him thus far using all three of his swords:

1. Again, this could be for the safety of the cast. Obviously being a cartoon character, Zoro wouldn’t have to worry about potential damage to his jaws and teeth, but Mackenyu, Zoro’s actor, is a real person who does have to worry about such things, especially as an actor who relies on(among other things) his facial expressions to earn a living. Carrying something like a sword, even a prop sword, in your mouth for long periods of time cannot be good for the health of your jaw and teeth, and I could understand if they chose not to film him with a sword in his mouth very often for this reason alone. 2. It could also be he uses all three swords less often so he can still deliver lines while fighting. In an SBS(”Shitsumon o Boshū Suru”, when translated means “I’m Taking Questions”, essentially an AMA for mangaka to answer questions their readers may have), Eiichiro Oda, the author of One Piece, once answered a question about how Zoro was able to talk with a sword in his mouth with quite a funny answer:

Sadly, in real life, Mackenyu cannot speak through his heart as Zoro does, so it’s possible that some of the scenes have been changed for ease of dialogue. 3. It’s also entirely possible that he uses his three-sword style as often as he does in the anime and manga, and the small amount of what we’ve seen in the trailers isn’t necessarily the full picture. I imagine this is something we’ll have to wait for the full series to drop to find out definitively one way or another!

~

Now, onto our lovely citrus-fruit-loving navigator, Nami!

I have seen two main complaints with Nami’s looks, and I’ll start with her hair, as it’s the more common one I’ve been seeing. I have seen a large number of people saying that her hair looks like(and I am slightly paraphrasing here) “a bad cosplay wig”, and honestly? I think this is just not true, and either comes from unrealistic expectations or just plain being mean-spirited.

First and foremost, this is very obviously human hair:

Now, I don’t know what kind of bad cosplays y’all have been seeing, but the ones I’ve seen start with synthetic hair wigs, not human hair ones(This is not to say synthetic wigs are inherently bad for cosplay! Simply that they are much harder to work with, though they are cheaper than human hair wigs). As well, I know for a fact Emily Rudd got her hair done similarly to this, to the point where I wasn’t actually sure that this WAS a wig at first(this picture comes directly from her Instagram account):

This is very obviously almost the exact same haircut as the wig chosen for Nami, save with more layers, and even the color choices are similar. To say that this wig looks like a “bad cosplay” is honestly just flat-out wrong in my professional opinion, and moreover, it’s quite rude. In addition, to me at least, it really looks like the wig was styled to resemble anime-esque hair, which is actually quite common among cosplayers. If anything, I have the same complaint on Nami’s wig that I also have with Sanji’s(which I’ll definitely be touching on later): it’s not thick enough. Both Nami and Sanji’s wigs just seem like they could use more hair attached to the cap in general, but especially for Nami’s, I really don’t think it’s as bad as people are saying.

I think this “bad cosplay wig” complaint specifically is mainly coming from people who only see the tail end of cosplay productions, which tends to be photos that are often times edited to look a certain way, which can often include doctoring the hair. There’s nothing wrong with a cosplayer editing their photos, for the record, but it can absolutely give unrealistic expectations to those who aren’t familiar with this practice, and I personally think this may be where these comments are coming from. Obviously you cannot photoshop every frame of a live action production, at least not without a lot of time and effort on the behalf of the post-production team, and I highly doubt Netflix would have greenlit something like that for such a small detail. It’s simply not realistic.

As well, I do find it quite interesting that I have seen far less complaints about the wigs of characters such as Zoro or Sanji(played by Taz Skylar(as stated previously, I have seen complaints about Sanji’s wig and I will be speaking on that later)) than I have about Nami’s. I’m not saying it’s outwardly misogynistic, but it does make one consider such things.

The only other complaint I’ve seen directed towards Nami’s live action look(and truth be told, I’ve seen this one far less than the comments on the hair) is the discrepancy between Emily Rudd’s eye color and Nami’s. As you can see from the above photos, Emily Rudd does not have brown eyes, which are the color of Nami’s eyes:

Now, I didn’t actually see this complaint until after the first full trailer dropped on July 21st. Specifically, I saw someone saying that it seemed strange that Steven John Ward, who portrays Dracule Mihawk in the series, is wearing colored contacts to better resemble his character, while Emily is not.

Now, there could be a lot of potential reasons for this, including that Emily may simply be not wearing colored contacts because they irritate her eyes(going back to my original point of the comfort and safety of the cast). But more importantly, I think, is that Mihawk’s unique eyes are directly related to his character, specifically through his epithet: Hawkeye. This is a seemingly important enough part of his character, to the point where it’s directly mentioned in his title. Nami has no such distinctions with her eye color, so I really don’t think it’s as important, and at the end of the day, it takes nothing away from her character to have a different eye color. So, while I don’t know the particular reason she doesn’t have brown contacts, I also don’t think it’s nearly as important for that detail to be as canonically correct as it is for Mihawk. To me, this particular comparison is another apples to oranges situation.

~

Onto our beloved liar, God Usopp himself:

Of course, the number one talking point I’ve seen about the live action Usopp is that Jacob Romero Gibson, Usopp’s actor, is missing his trademark long nose.

As One Piece fans know, one of Usopp’s characteristic traits is his tendency to lie. His name, Usopp, comes from a portmanteau of the Japanese word “uso”, which means lie, and Aesop, the famous Greek storyteller and the namesake for Aesop’s Fables. Because of his propensity towards tall tales, Usopp’s anime and manga character designs also added a reference to another character who’s known for lying, Pinocchio, whose nose grows when he lies. Thus, Usopp in his cartoon form has a long nose!

Considering how many gags in the story involve Usopp’s nose, a lot of fans were surprised to see that aspect of him not carried over into the live action. After the drop of the official trailer, seeing that the character Arlong had his signature sawshark-esque long nose in prosthetic form, there was even more confusion about this choice.

(As an aside, Arlong’s costuming choices will not be discussed in this post, as it’s long enough with just the main cast, but believe me, I do have Opinions on it lmao)

Now, as to why the show chose to not give Jacob a prosthetic long nose to better match Usopp’s appearance, I don’t know the specifics. I can only speculate, and really, the only things I could feasibly come up with are the following:

1. It’s entirely possible that for whatever reason, Jacob is unable to wear a prosthetic nose. This could be due to several things, including allergies to either the prosthetic material itself or the adhesive used to attach it, or the makeup required to blend the prosthetic into his skin. If this is the case, then it of course goes back to my main point here that the comfort of the cast takes precedence over accuracy to the source material. 2. The only other explanation that really makes sense to me is that they did in fact attempt the nose in costume fitting, and either the absurdity of it was just either too distracting to audiences/the crew/Netflix execs/possibly even Oda himself, or it could have potentially been a problem during stunt work. Usopp primarily fights with a slingshot, and I have no experience with slingshots so this is just me taking a stab in the dark, but it’s possible that the extra length on the nose could have possibly messed with the actor’s depth perception while attempting to act out Usopp’s fight scenes.

Overall, I genuinely don’t know why they decided to axe Usopp’s long nose. But at the end of the day, I know that for me specifically, this is a minor detail, and not something I see as a genuine problem, nor will it ruin the immersion for me. That being said, I can definitely understand the criticisms here. I’m hoping that a lot of these changes will eventually be answered, perhaps in some behind-the-scenes footage that comes out after the show’s release.

The only other comment on Usopp’s costuming that I’ve seen is much more easily explainable, and I also haven’t seen nearly as much in the way of commenting on it: Usopp’s hair is not in dreads in the anime and manga, and instead is kept natural, especially before the timeskip.

As we can see in the above picture, Usopp seems to keep his hair fairly natural, whereas Jacob, Usopp’s actor, sports dreads in his portrayal of Usopp, as seen in the above photo.

Luckily, I haven’t seen very many comments on this, and I think that’s a good thing, since the explanation seems fairly simple to me. Usopp in canon is based off of (mostly unused in this day and age, for good reason: a lot of the design is highly based off racist blackface caricatures) old-school anime portrayals of Black/African people. As well, in an SBS, a fan asked where the Straw Hats would be based out of if One Piece was set in the real world:

As stated above, Usopp would come from Africa! As well, if I recall correctly, Oda had a hand in casting the live action adaptation, which all points to the undeniable proof that Usopp is and has always been intended to read as Black/African in some form.

The reason I bring this all up specifically, is because of the way African hair grows. Obviously not all Black/African people are a monolith, and even among curly haired people there are different curl tightness and growth patterns, but for a large portion of people of African descent, their hair would not grow similarly to the way Usopp’s is portrayed in his cartoon form. His hair is indeed curly, but it grows down, similar to most wavy or straight hair types. This is especially evident in his post-timeskip hair growth:

Usopp’s hair, which was once above his shoulders before the two year time skip, now extends down past his shoulders. This is not necessarily inaccurate to Black/African hair types, as, since stated previously, different curl patterns and tightness exist, and even with super tight curl patterns, if grown out long enough, the hair will eventually grow down, due to the weight of the hair strands. But for a lot of Black/African hair types, the natural hair tends to grow outwards, instead of downwards(or at the very least it grows outwards before it begins to grow downwards). This type of hair is typically referred to as afro-textured hair, and is the namesake for the afro, a hairstyle wherein someone with afro-textured hair combs out their natural hair growth in the shape it naturally grows.

Now, I’m not familiar with Jacob Romero Gibson’s work prior to One Piece, and I have never seen his hair without his dreads, therefore I can’t say with 100% certainty how his hair grows naturally. However, he does have an Instagram account, and on this account he has photos of himself. I looked through his account, and although he doesn’t seem to have any photos of himself without his dreads(indeed, they seem to be his signature hairstyle) as an adult, he does have a few photos of himself from his childhood. I don’t personally feel comfortable linking his baby photos to this post, so I’m not going to do so here. However, they are visible there, and from what I can see from those photos, he does indeed have afro-textured hair. This may not be 100% accurate to how his hair grows now as an adult, as lots of things can change hair growth types and curl patterns, including things such as hormones, medications, stress levels etc. In my professional opinion, I feel fairly confident in saying that Jacob most likely has afto-textured hair, and therefore his natural hair likely wouldn’t fully grow in the exact same way that Usopp’s does. 

Overall, I only bring all of this up to say that if Jacob did have his hair in a natural, non-protective style in his portrayal of Usopp, I feel that the same people who are complaining about the dreads now would likely complain that his natural hair doesn’t match Usopp’s exactly. Either way, Usopp’s hair is not a huge characteristic that defines who he is as a character(especially not in the way that his nose is), and therefore I don’t think that him having dreads in the live action takes away from the character in any way.

~

Finally, we’ll discuss the Straw Hat crew’s first-rate cook who attacks through kicks, Black Leg Sanji:

Sanji has the unfortunate position of being the character who’s had the most changes to his design from his cartoon to the live action, and there’s a lot of criticism that’s been lobbed his way. Some of it I think is fair, but there’s also quite a bit that I think is honestly quite silly. So without further ado, I’ll go through the four main critiques I’ve seen, and my opinions of each.

Let’s start with the one I’ve heard the most often, and the one that’s easily my least favorite to hear about at this point: the missing eyebrow swirl. Maybe it’s just because Sanji is personally my favorite on the crew and I’m just paying the most attention to him, but my god, the way some people are going on about the eyebrow, you’d think the showrunners made the decision to axe his signature curly eyebrow specifically to spite the Sanji fangirls. I think a lot of the complaining about the lack of eyebrow swirl would simply be changed to complaining about how bad the eyebrow swirl would look if they’d tried to keep it, and I’ll explain why below.

Like many of the costuming changes made to the live action adaptation, I don’t know the exact reasoning as to why they decided to get rid of the eyebrow swirl. As someone who has worked as a makeup artist, however, I do have a theory as to why they got rid of it, and my theory is fairly simple: it is just not really very possible to create a realistic-looking eyebrow swirl that reads well on a film camera.

Yes, the makeup team could have very easily drawn on a swirl with a brow pencil or some pomade and called it a day. However, it would have been fairly obvious that it was in fact drawn on, especially on a film shoot. I’ve seen a lot of people complaining about the missing swirl point to both cosplayers and stage actors as “proof” that it could be done, but again, this is an apples to oranges situation. Stage makeup(like that used for stage actors), photoshoot makeup(like what cosplayers would employ), and live action film makeup are three entirely different types of makeup application, and while they each have their own merits, that doesn’t inherently mean they translate into other mediums, and this is something that you have to learn fairly early on as a makeup artist if you want to continue getting work. If you are doing makeup professionally, you have to keep a lot of things in mind, one of the biggest things being how your work will read on camera, specifically the camera your canvas will be in front of. You have to keep in mind things like flash photography, shine versus matte, whether or not post-production editing will be involved, and the like. A fairly popular example of this is makeup influencer James Charles’ old meet-and-greet photo, which has become a meme since surfacing. Charles was used to only doing makeup and being photographed a certain way, leading to him using a setting powder that didn’t lend well to flash photography, and made him look like he was wearing makeup that was far too pale for his skin tone, when in reality it was just a makeup product that didn’t work for the kind of camera it was in front of:

Another example is basically the entire Cosmo Queens video series done for Cosmopolitan magazine’s youtube page, and I’ll use Kandy Muse’s video as a specific example, since she uses her natural brows in addition to her makeup. This series focused on the makeup of drag queens, and it’s very obvious when watching these videos that there’s a huge discrepancy between makeup meant for the stage and makeup meant for other avenues. Drag queens typically are live performers, and there is a common saying among drag artists, which is to “paint(apply makeup) for the back of the house(so that even those in the back row can see your makeup)”. On stage, Kandy Muse’s makeup is quite stunning, but it’s very clear that it’s not fully meant for the editorial style that Cosmo uses during these videos:

Even from a distance, you can very clearly see where Kandy’s real eyebrows sit versus her makeup. And while this is obviously an extreme example, it’s even more obvious when zoomed in, which film cameras have to do often in order to capture the expressions of their actors:

In a similar vein, film cameras, which are typically designed to catch a lot of definition and lend better to a more realistic look, likely would not be very kind to a drawn on part of an eyebrow. Without any hair growing there naturally to make the eyebrow makeup look more realistic, it would be very obvious that it was makeup, and would likely be more distracting to audiences(especially first-timers to the series; it’s important to keep in mind that Netflix would want to cater to those people as well as long-time One Piece fans) than omitting it entirely would. In addition, we have to take into account the actor, Taz Skylar, and his natural hair growth and the direction of his brows.

As is visible from the photo, Taz Skylar’s natural brow grows downwards at the end, whereas Sanji the fictional character’s brow grows upwards into his swirl at the end. In order to match the character 1-to-1 and change his own natural features, Taz would have to either shave/pluck/wax the entire outer half of his brow(which for an actor would be extremely inconvenient for other projects and would be an absolute pain to grow back out), or he would have to sit longer in the makeup chair to have his brow covered by FX makeup, which takes extra time and effort and could throw off the timing of the entire shoot. In addition, neither of these potential fixes would necessarily make the obviously-drawn-on swirl look good and read well on film. Add on the facts that Taz’s character is fully submerged in water in at least one scene, if not more, and has several fight scenes, and it’s not even a guarantee that the makeup swirl would even last throughout the shoot.

I’ve also seen people say that they could have added the swirl in post, but I think that’s it’s very unrealistic for Netflix to greenlight that for a minor detail such as a singular visible eyebrow.

While I am very sad that they weren’t able to translate Sanji’s signature brow to the live action adaptation, I think a lot of the complaints regarding him not having it and insistence that the production should have included it are entirely overblown, and are mainly being made by people who don’t have a lot of knowledge of what goes into film makeup versus other types of makeup. And while Sanji’s brows are fairly important to his character, this fact doesn’t actually come into the story until far after the timeskip, and we don’t even know if the live action will get another season outside of this one. I really hope this can help explain why they may have made the decision to nix the brow swirl for people who are still concerned about it, since from what I’ve seen, it seems to be the number one point of contention when it comes to live-action Sanji.

Next, I’d like to speak a bit about Sanji’s hair. Now, I have some complaints of my own about the wig used on Taz, but most of the criticism I’ve seen regarding the wig actually revolves around why it doesn’t cover his eye completely, as Sanji’s hair does. This is something that seems fairly obvious to me: Taz has to do a lot of stunt work, and he needs to be able to see! This is a potential safety issue more than anything else, and therefore goes back to my main original point. As well, there’s no real way to make the hair not move without completely overloading it with product, which, again, would be very obvious on a film camera, and likely wouldn’t read nearly as well as people think.

As for me, my personal critiques around the wig are just how sparse it is. Sanji has a lot more hair than is in the wig, and I really think a wig that had a little more hair attached to the base would have looked better. As well, I don’t know if the styling of the wig works for me personally.

I was actually really hoping that the live action adaptation would take cues on Sanji’s hair from the character who Sanji was modeled after. A lot of people still to this day think that Sanji’s appearance is based off Leonardo DiCaprio, specifically his role as Jack Dawson from the hit movie Titanic or his role as Romeo from Romeo and Juliet, but Oda has actually explained in an SBS that this isn’t the case:

Sanji’s looks and his “vibes” are based off of Steve Buscemi’s character Mr. Pink in Reservoir Dogs, and personally I would have loved to see his live-action hair more closely resemble that, but sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.

Another critique of live action Sanji is that he hasn’t been depicted with his trademark cigarette, and I kind of knew that this would happen from the moment I found out about the live action adaptation. This is not the fault of Tomorrow Studios(the production company), or even Netflix at large, but instead this is largely based off backlash from anti-smoking lobbies. 

(As a former smoker myself, I have a lot of opinions on the ridiculousness of anti-smoking groups going after smoking in fictional scenarios like films and shows, but that’s a gripe for a whole other post lol) 

Netflix notably caught a lot of flack for the depiction of commonplace cigarette smoking in other series, such as Stranger Things, even though the series takes place in the 1980′s, where smoking was incredibly commonplace. The major backlash even got to the point where you can actively see the drop in depictions of smoking between each season. I am hoping they at least give Taz one scene with Sanji’s iconic cigarette, but I’m not holding my breath on this one. I doubt Netflix wants to deal with that backlash again.

Finally, the last big complaint with Sanji’s wardrobe I’ve seen is his signature suit, specifically regarding the fitting of it. Sanji’s suits in the anime/manga tend to be fairly fitted in nature, while the live action once Taz wears, while still having a slightly tapered fit, is a bit baggier than what Sanji typically wears.

This is a fairly straightforward change, in my opinion: if the suit was as form-fitting as Sanji’s are, Taz(and his potential stunt double(I don’t know if he did all of his own stunt work or not)) simply would not be able to move the way Sanji does! This is an issue of cartoon versus reality: Oda is able to depict his characters doing whatever they want in whatever clothing they want. However, real life is sadly not as accommodating, and because of that, Taz’s suit has to be a bit less form-fitting so he can still do all of Sanji’s signature footwork. Going back to my original point, the sacrifice of the fitted suit had to be made so the production could actually work.

~

I tried to touch on all the biggest differences I’ve seen people talk about, and I hope this was helpful to anyone who may have been curious as to why some of these changes were made. Please let me know if I missed anything big or if you have any additional questions/need me to explain anything further, I love what I do and I love being able to have insight like this. Thank you so much if you’ve read this far, and please reblog if you found this post helpful or informative <3

[devildomditzy]

“I can’t take you seriously.” For Diavolo cus i dont take him seriously (in a good way tbh) 🍨👹

You stare ahead at the demon prince in front of you as he downs his ice cream faster than you think you’ve ever seen done before. Honestly, it was kind of impressive.

It was anyone’s guess as to what he said to Barbatos to let him meet you alone at Madame Screams for what he referred to as an “ice cream social”. You’d bet money that he didn’t tell Barbatos, and the poor butler is currently running around like a hell hen with it’s head cut off looking for him.

You’d accepted his invitation, first; because you figured there would be consequences of some kind for saying no to the next lord of hell, second; because you figured the ‘social’ part of the ice cream social meant everyone would be coming. But no, you find yourself alone with the ruler of the entire realm in the center of a small cafe. A human and demon royalty, both currently being gawked at by every patron and the entire staff alike.

You don’t blame them. It’s probably not every day that they see the effective ruler of their government in person, let alone chowing down on a sundae like his life depended on it. But, you’d be lying if you said the stares weren’t starting to make you uncomfortable.

Diavolo gives a hardy laugh from his seat, startling you out of your concentration on his speedy consumption. Gosh, if he didn’t slow down, you were sure he was gonna choke.

“Isn’t this wonderful, MC? Just you and I enjoying ourselves out in the public! Now I know what it must feel like for regular citizens of the Devildom to ‘get out of the house’ so to say!”

You give a forced chuckle, trying your best to sound sincere. “Yeah, totally. This is…exactly how that feels.”

You try not to make eye contact with the people gathered around the two of you, but it’s almost impossible as they take out their D.D.D’s to film and photograph the two of you. You were starting to feel like a caged animal, and you wonder briefly if this is what the prince felt like at all times.

The notion begins to make you upset, but before you can dwell on it, you look up to find Diavolo smiling back at you, remnants of his ice cream attached to his upper lip in a pseudo mustache. You can’t stop the laugh that jumps forward from deep in your chest.

“May I know what you find so humorous?”, he questions, childlike wonder abundant behind his eyes. “I always love a good laugh!”

You wipe a small tear that formed in the corner of your eye away before speaking. “It’s just… I can’t take you seriously!”

His face drops instantly, and your blood freezes. Upsetting the leader hell was not on your to do list for the day, and you did not want to find out what it means if you do.

You begin to backpedal to the best of your ability, not wanting to get throwing into jail. Jail in hell was probably worse then regular jail. It was probably like, super jail. You don’t want to go to super jail in hell.

But before you can begin to flounder, Diavolo bursts into another good natured chuckle. “Good! I’m glad!”

You stare at him, shock and confusion perfectly married in your expression. “I’m sorry…you’re glad?”

He shakes his head fondly before continuing. “MC, can I be honest with you? When everyone around you holds you to such high standards at all times, it can become a bit…”

He seems to be searching for the right word, so you offer up the one that flashes through your mind.

“Draining?”

“Yes! Draining. That’s why I asked you to sneak out with me! I knew you wouldn’t make too much of a fuss being seen with me.” He puts his head on his hand, a warm smile gracing his features. “I feel like I can let loose with you around.”

“Oh!”, you light up in surprise. It hits you then how scary it must be to have to lead a whole dimension of demonic folk. Having everyone look to you for all the answers, having to make all the tough decisions. Then there was Lucifer and Barbatos, always expecting him to act regal, and uphold some airy sense of authority. The prince certainly did not have it easy.

“Then, I’m glad I could be of service. Let’s do this again some time, Lord Diavolo.”

“Please, call me Dia.”

“Okay”, you giggle, “Let’s do this again some time, Dia.”

[leviscolwill]

soleil pluvieux

pairing: rúben dias x reader

summary: you never thought you'd be grateful for manchester's shitty weather, but that was before you met rúben at your usual bus stop [wc: ~680]

contents: strangers to ??? (🤭), just fluffy stuff

note: i should be writing the 16839 wips i've started but this idea was too irresistible not to write... also i'm aware ruben would not take the bus but he's doing it for the plot 🙄

now playing: soleil pluvieux by yvnnis (novae)

your friends would describe you as a control freak, but it wasn't totally true. you just liked to have your life together and fully organised.

but one of the very few things you couldn't control in your life was the weather. for example, you couldn't predict that this sunny day would be darkened by rainy clouds. because that was the weatherman's job, something he couldn't do properly, it seemed. so here you were, in your pretty sundress, getting rained on, on what was supposed to be a perfectly sunny day.

you mentally cursed the weatherman as you arrived at your bus stop, noticing your next bus to be in 12 minutes. enough time to get completely soaked by the time you get home, you thought.

you sensed someone stilling next to you, and the rain suddenly stops. you look up, only to meet eyes with the stranger. a tall man, with brunette hair and charming brown eyes, sharing half of his umbrella with you.

"i thought you might appreciate a break from the rain." he told you looking deep into your eyes.

for some reason, you were taken aback by his voice and his accent. you weren't one to lose your bearings often, but something about him made you stumble on your words.

"you would be right... i guess. i mean you would be right about that, getting rained on is never nice so..." it felt like the words were tripping out of your mouth and lost all their meanings.

the stranger chuckled, a beautiful sound, one you would want to listen to forever you thought.

"i'm rúben, and you are..?"

you gave him your name in something that resembled a whisper, but somehow rúben understood you, saying your name back, mostly to himself.

"pretty name." you felt your cheeks heat up at his comment.

"do you usually carry an umbrella everywhere you go ?" you were taken aback by his flirty manners and the way his eyes looked so intently into yours, tracing their way to your lips once in a while. so you tried to put him on the spot as well.

but rúben simply laughed, a loud and hearty laugh that surprised you more than your question surprised him.

"it's manchester, you should always have your umbrella ready."

he was right, manchester's weather was unpredictable. and you carried your umbrella with you whenever you felt the day was about to turn rainy, but today was supposed to be a sunny day, in your mind at least.

"i suppose you're right..." you grumbled, if there was one thing you hated, aside from untrustworthy weathermen, it was being wrong.

"my bus should be here soon... can i give you my phone number ?"

once again, you were confused by the brunette. usually, people would ask for your number, not the other way. this time, rúben put you out of your misery and explained himself.

"in case you need someone to share their umbrella with you one day, and maybe we could get a coffee or whatever you like really."

for the first time since rúben spoke to you, he seemed a little flustered. his cheeks were reddening by the second and his eyes left yours to look at his shoes.

you handed him your phone with a smile as he quickly wrote his name and number in your contacts as he saw his bus coming.

he gave you a quick smile, handing back your phone. he got on the bus and that's when you realised he also gave you his umbrella.

when you looked over at him in surprise, you were met by his pretty smile and a cute wave.

you had a smile glued to your face on your way home thinking about today's funny and unexpected encounter.

once you were finally home you snapped a quick photo of the umbrella and sent it to rúben with a text.

i guess i'm the one who has to share the umbrella now.