#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.

[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."

[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.

[oh-saints]

I found your page a couple of days ago and i love all your stories. I hope you won't be overwhelmed with the amount of Rúben dias requests you're about to receive from me 😂I would like to request something with ruben like oc is heavily pregnant and craving something weird (whatever weird this that comes into your mind lol) and he is laughing and teasing her about it lol, and oc us having non of it. Make it fluffy please 🥺

Thank you so much in advance

cravings

craving during pregnancy is something we all are aware of, rúben even looks forward to it from the moment you broke down the news you were expecting. but what if you ask for something he doesn’t even know it exists?

rúben dias x you part of dad!rúben collection

wc: 2k

note: something that’s been sitting way too long in the vault because of the research I had to do about this but only now finished bcs I had spurts of inspiration suddenly so surprise, surprise it’s a double update! LOLOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet!

“gatinha,”

at your whisper, rúben stirred from his sleep. his eyes immediately spotted the clock on the bedside table. the numbers drawn 3:00 in the big, fat analogue font across the screen.

“uh, what is it?” being the alert husband he was, he turned around to face you in no time. “is there something you need?

you were already seated on the edge of the bed, meaning you had just finished from your early morning toilet trip. ever since you became pregnant, the little trip was a new routine for you—and maybe the majority of other pregnant women in general, and everyone around him who had become fathers before him had warned the footballer to watch where the mother was going.

that, and the last thing he needed was for you to slip somewhere when he wasn’t watching, when he couldn’t be any help for you. rúben and you had been waiting for your very own rainbow baby for years, so when you were granted one, it was within his most important priority list to make sure both you and the child—whose gender was still unknown yet; not even born yet and they already resembled your shy nature—happy and safe.

“are you okay?”

you didn’t hide your fascination towards the man in front of you, hair disheveled and eyes blurry with drowsiness. 5 years of marriage and you still found him endearing, even more so when he was now turning protective and alert all the time, borderline the leader of a pack with the appearance similar to a mother hen.

“i am, don’t you worry,” you said, your hands stroking the side of his face, feeling the little hairs growing to become stubbles in near future. “but i’m starving.”

ah… the infamous early morning craving.

you had never personally asked of anything alike before, contrary to what everybody else had been advising rúben that there would be a time where you would be craving something eventually in a very ridiculous time of a morning. four months in, and you were yet to show any signs of it so rúben naturally thought you were going to be an exception case. but look where they were now.

with a smile so apologetic for having to wake him up like that, rúben melted into the warmth your smile exuded. “of course, meu anjo. should i get my keys?”

rúben might be many things but you didn’t believe one chance that he was a psychic. “do you even know what i want to eat?”

“uh, mcdonalds?”

in any other time, you would’ve laughed at his meek attempt to guess your mind. given t was early in the morning, mcdonalds was supposedly a reasonable choice since it was open 24/7.

but you did not, in under any circumstances, want to touch your feet nearby that chain of foul fast food. besides, you were pregnant. didn’t your husband consider that the unhealthy intake of food would do no good for their baby?

rúben must’ve noticed the change in your demeanour. “did i say something wrong, my love?”

“yes, don’t assume anything you don’t know of.”

ah… this one rúben was familiar, the rapid change of your mood he had his money run for the fastest rollercoaster on earth, so he apologised instantly and asked you again what you wanted.

“remember the time when we travelled to asia?”

“you mean, our honeymoon?”

oh, you were so not having your husband being mr. i-know-it-all. “one more of that and i’m walking out.”

the threat was enough to make rúben circle around the bed before kneeling down in front of your frowning figure. not because he was a loser, but because he knew you might actually do it. you had a capability to do it, you always do, which was why he was drawn to you in the first place.

but he didn’t want a runaway wife, pregnant on top of that, so he quickly apologized again. “what about it, baby?”

“i want durian.” ＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

what on earth is durian?

rúben sighed as he stared at his phone, the screen frozen helplessly for how many tabs he’d opened up in the browser. he rubbed his face rather roughly, due to the frustration, as he sat on the cover of the toilet and pondered his life choices and its respective life expectancies.

no one—literally no one—had warned him about the effect of any slip of tongue around a pregnant woman.

you were the calmest person he’d ever met, never wanting to bite off someone else’s head because it drained your precious energy. which rúben agreed to, and had been a devoted student of yours in terms of anger management on and off the field. but it was getting very hard to keep his own composure intact when you even lost yours.

ironically, rúben realised that one of you should still stay sane for the sake of everyone in this household, now inclusive of the unborn baby and it didn’t look like it was going to be you anytime soon.

so realistically, he couldn’t say to you that he didn’t remember a thing—not even an ounce of it—that you both had seen the fruit in question during your honeymoon. according to you, though, you both were even mesmerized by the look but decided that the possibility of dying because of the foul smell was larger than the delicious taste. as a result, when was the best time to try the exotic fruit than now, at 3.30 AM, when you were nearing the fifth month of pregnancy?

thus, his final resort to the internet, hoping for a miracle in the amount close to how much he needed to create the apple of his eyes with you.

but of course, the search engine didn’t show anything that could help him save his own lifeline this early morning from a pregnant wife that was so ready to stab the knife to his chest. the best option rúben got was to visit chinatown and head to the fruit market.

with a particular note from a lovely reviewer that the fruit was subject to a particular season—durian season, as the asians called it. if you were to seek for the spiky fruit beyond the particular calendar, then you either (i) got one that tasted as foul as it smells, or (ii) came home empty handed.

but of course, you wouldn’t get it, would you? rúben had already had it in his head you were going to wail at how incredulous his justifications are—what the hell is a durian season? we have spring, summer, autumn and winter and not durian! he could imagine—and would accuse him of trying to get his way out of the hard labour of satisfying you craving. worse, you’d scream out rúben should be responsible for this because he was the one who knocked you up and not vice versa.

other times, the footballer would just laugh it off. even at first, he did so and thought you were the cutest thing in his life, an actual living plushie. now, he just didn’t know what to do…

“what takes you so long?”

rúben jumped slightly at the question thrown at him from behind the door, the only thing separating him and his thoughts with the rest of the world and their expectation towards him. “nothing, meu anjo. i’ll be out in a minute.”

“good, because we gotta go. i’m sleepy already but the baby needs to eat.”

the husband closed his eyes once more, regulated his breathing, visualizing the flow of his breath before letting them out slowly—just the way you taught him how—before coming out of the loo. “baby, can i ask you one thing?”

you looked up, and rúben felt bad because you were already dressed and ready to go out and fight the coldness of an early morning. “what is it?”

“what if we go and have the durian in the morning?”

“rúben, it’s already morning now,” you clicked your tongue impatiently. “what are you saying?”

“i have a place to go already but they’re only open later at 8.”

and pregnant silence fell upon them, no puns intended.

“why at 8?”

“because that’s when the market opens,” rúben sat again in front of you, his hands were rubbing the back of your hand and on top of your knees respectfully. “i’m afraid we’ll have to go to chinatown to get them and it’s only open then.”

rúben was so ready with your fit, so he was rather surprised to hear you answer, “okay.”

okay?

okay?!

okay!

good god, the mood swing had returned it honestly felt like rúben had just jumped off the cliff with bungee jumping.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

rúben was the one not okay that morning.

you turned out to opt out sleeping that night, despite being cuddled by your husband—which was your favourite way to go to sleep, even faring better than being lullabied—but rúben forgot you were living your life for two people for these nine months, so you still had a bar of energy and excitement while he had to drag his feet to the en suite bathroom.

you were literally counting in seconds as to when you’d get to the chinatown. your legs were involuntarily shaking from excitement, while he’d become more sensitive due to the lack of sleep (per his standard). as soon as the car stopped at the parking lot, you ran to the nearest entrance and lost yourself in quest to find the fruit. it wasn’t even 8 AM yet.

rúben had to call and asked you to share your live location, in case you were lost. but you were already moving in a pace so different than those mothers he’d gotten to know lately due to the parenting class, there was no way he could catch up.

“where are you?” as soon as his phone rang, he picked up, panting from the endless count of steps inside a huge market. “i cannot find you.”

coincidentally, you happened to call rúben in order to tell him that you were going to line in a queue to a small shop selling imported exotic fruits. the small hadn’t been open, yet there was already a waiting list, and in your dictionary of words it should only mean that the said shop was relevant to be called the local’s favourite.

“there you are,” rúben was about to comment

like a lucky charm, they were called in to make their purchase not long after.

you had your eyes already set on durian, so when the uncle asked if you wanted to eat at that place or bring home a peeled one, you didn’t hesitate to have them immediately. besides, you didn’t know how to split durian into two and whatnot.

“oh my god, so damn good!” you didn’t waste a minute to dance your little moves that you made to indicate you’re happy at that moment. “i can eat this every day for the rest of my life!”

good god, please help me.

“you should try, baby!” you were so excited to share your happiness with your husband, one hand holding a tiny bit of yellow and ready to be shoved into rúben’s mouth. who could deny such endearing request? “you’ve never had one before!”

and that was also the last time rúben had a bite of that yellow, mushy inside of durian. apart from the smell, he decided he didn’t like the texture and the bitter aftertaste.

but that was him. you, on the other hand, were munching the fruit as if it was going to be your last time seeing that scarce fruit. it appalled rúben too even at the length and amount you could eat in one seating. and looking at that, seeing you were this elated, it also made him full—in every sense of the word, literally and figuratively.

when you were done with the last chunk, you grinned at him, rather sheepishly. maybe you were drunk from the fruit, maybe you were shy because you just let out one hell of an appetite. “thank you for coming here with me.”

“anytime, my love, but we’re not doing this again. okay, meu anjo?” rúben wiped your fingers one by one from the sticky texture, internally wincing at the stinky smell. “promise me that.”

“sim, meu amor.”

[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.”

[footballffbarbiex]

Is it too late to request Ruben Dias with baby daddy ‘pumpkin picking’ please? Maybe you’re all out picking with your eldest child & heavily pregnant with the second. Ruben gets a bit sassy and reader threatens to attach a pumpkin to Ruben (like the viral watermelon videos of dads-to-be having them taped to them) and he soon goes back to being fluffy?

from this list.

sorry this is a bit later than planned, but i hope you like it!

-

each step brings a low, dull ache in your lower back and a splintering pain across your hips which only slows you down further than the waddle that you're now doing. it doesn't make it any easier with the ground now drenched from the last few nights rainfall and your feet threaten to slip out from beneath you with each squelchy step. even as you cart the wheelbarrow which helps to keep you the right way up.

Rúben walks ahead with your daughter, both of them managing to stay upright better than you, though she is supported by her daddy. her wellington boots have a thick layer of sludge going up past the rubber soles like a thick layer of icing upon a birthday cake. but he makes sure that she never falls, that even when she begins to lose her footing, that he's right there to give her her confidence back as he helps her regain her balance. she looks so small next to him and yet, she was growing up far too quickly. everything, physically, about her was Rúben and it made it far too easy for him to sweet talk you into having another baby.

he had promised that the first weekend when they were both available, he would take her pumpkin picking. she'd seen pictures from her friend's and acknowledged her jealousy, asking repeatedly why they were able to go but she wasn't. Rúben hated to see his little girl upset, especially for something that was so easy to fix.

several other families mill around, some slipping and sliding and no doubt seeing their life flash before their eyes as they begin their downward journey into the dirt. the sun seems brighter, imitating the way winter sun blinds, though it probably doesn't help that it's cutting through a veil of fog which hangs over the fields, leaving the scene before you all to feel incredibly spooky. you half expect to find a scarecrow to be hung up with a pumpkin head carved with a menacing smile as an attraction to take pictures with.

"mummy is a slowpoke," Rúben says loud enough for you to be able to hear, deliberately turning his head to ensure it reaches you as far back as you are. she giggles, betraying you in the process, and begins to chant "slowpoke" as she bends over to examine a pumpkin before deciding that it's not the one for her.

"come on mummy," he laughs as he begins to run in slow motion, "lets have a race, see if she can catch us." he says, encouraging the mini version of himself. she eagerly agrees, traitor, and begins to mimic him while squealing "catch us mummy" over and over.

Rúben's happy smile quickly disappears as he catches your expression and he gulps as you approach.

"what was that?"

"nothing," he feigns innocence.

"daddy says you're slow." your daughter says as she approaches with a small, but to her a large, pumpkin in her hands. it's dirty, the mud clings to her small hands but she looks super proud of her find as she rolls it into the wheelbarrow.

"keep speaking like that honey," you say, your words dripping with sweetness as you give him a smile just as sickly, "and you'll find yourself picking out an extra large pumpkin to strap to your stomach while i zap you with a TENS machine to see how a tiny bit of this feels."

"that sounds like fun." he grimaces, "but i'll, respectfully, pass. hey sugarplum, do you want to show me those big muscles of yours and maybe help mummy push this wheelbarrow while i help her walk along?" he asks, squatting down to her level and using a calming voice.

she immediately lifts her arms to flex her biceps and show that she's capable of it while he steps to your side and wraps an arm around your lower back.

"good choice Dias, good choice."

[dias-writing-corner]

Ticcijack toxic relationship cause it’s Halloween month

⚠️Tw: MINORS OK BUT DONT START SHIT - THERES NO NSFW - toxic ship, physical and emotional abuse, mention of cannibalism (it’s ej), dead dove do not eat, if you can’t handle these sorts of topics ignore this and scroll past.

“Why do I want to hurt you” Jack and “if you need to be mean be mean to me” Toby. Jack lashes out out of trauma from the cult or as I like to dub it “the accident” cause it wasn’t his choice to become the monster he is now. A half demon cannibal that loses his humanity with every human he eats to survive. He hates hurting others bc of his doctors oath (my version of ej he was just abt to graduate and had a hospital lined up to work in as he was the top of his class and while partying in celebration the night before they walk across the stage Jenny lures him into the cult fiasco that ruined him) and he especially hates hurting the person he loves. He can’t help it, sometimes Jack lashes out out of trauma and others out of hunger. He doesn’t like eating too often as he feels it strips him of what little humanity he has left but as a half demon Jack doesn’t have full control over himself when near starving. Onto Toby. He doesn’t feel the pain but it still shows on his skin and Jack always patches him up afterward out of guilt. Toby takes it cause he feels it’s his punishment for Lyra’s death (yes my vers he remembers) of which he blames himself for. The least he can do is take abuse from his lover to help make him feel better. Sometimes when Toby feels extra self destructive or self hating Toby will do or say something that triggers Jacks ptsd of the accident on purpose and cause Jack to harm him because of it. Toby always comforts Jack after he calms down from hurting him tho. Sometimes Toby does it to get Jack to bite him and eat a little piece of him linking the two of them together for the rest of Jack’s nearly immortal life. They’re messy ok I love them like that.

[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

[eternallyfrustratedwriter]

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

[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.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

under the mistletoe | rúben dias

⭐️ synopsis: At a Christmas party, two people share a kiss under the mistletoe. warnings: just pure fluff, christmas drabble, 400 words

| listen to my christmas playlist |

I had been working for Manchester City for a couple of years and it was my second time being invited to the club’s Christmas party. I glanced at the invitation with a mix of reluctance and resignation; another year, another forced celebration. But hey, 'tis the season, right?

As I stepped into the festively adorned venue, the air was thick with the scent of wine and the sound of laughter. My colleagues' chatter blended with the lively notes of a familiar holiday tune. I wondered if I could sneak out early, but the promise of an open bar was enough to persuade me.

The night unfolded, and against my better judgment, I found myself with a glass of something that sparkled. And then I spotted him – Rúben, the guy I've secretly been crushing on since forever. The idea of expressing my feelings in this kind of workplace felt terrifying, so I kept my emotions tucked away like a carefully wrapped gift.

But wouldn't you know it, destiny had other plans – there we were, standing right under the mistletoe. Rúben gave me a big smile when he spotted that cheeky decoration hanging right over our heads.

"So, do we play along or risk seven years of bad luck?" Rúben asked, a daring twinkle in his eye.

I rolled my eyes, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, mistletoe's got jokes tonight."

But then, there's this moment. The twinkling lights, the festive buzz – it's like the universe hit pause just for us; the distance between us lessened, and for a fleeting second, it seemed like the world around me faded away. Rúben's eyes locked onto mine, and the whole room blurred into the background. 

He leaned in, and for a split second, there was that tiny, thrilling gap between us – the kind of pause that makes your heart race. And then, our lips met. It wasn't a hurried peck or a casual brush; it was a slow, deliberate kiss.

The taste of the holiday punch lingered on our lips, and I could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving us enveloped in the soft glow of Christmas lights and the gentle melody of a classic tune playing in the background.

Time hung suspended, and for that stolen moment under the mistletoe, it was just us, wrapped up in the magic of the season and the unexpected spark between us. 

When we finally pulled away, the room came back into focus, but something had shifted. The air crackled with a newfound energy, a shared secret that would make this Christmas in Manchester unforgettable.

[highdreaming]

Rúben Dias: NSFW Moment

💢 All the works are pure fictions, for entertainment purposes only so please, read it at your own will.

Find more at: Masterlist

WARNINGS: SEX; Breeding Kink; slight Choking Kink

AN: Please like, reblog and give me feedback!

--

Rúben keeps thrusting into you, his strong body covering yours. Your hands are intertwined, his face nuzzling your neck. The pleasure comes in waves, each stronger than the other as he fucks you desperately against the mattress. 

“Oh, fuck! I’m so close, baby. Can’t hold it much longer.” he groans, speeding up his movements and a moan escapes your lips. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him slip impossibly deeper into you, his cock rubbing every right spot inside you and the pressure builds inside you.

The wet sounds both of your bodies produce is borderline obscene, breaking the night’s silence with sinful noises and moans and it only turns you on even more. 

His vigorous thrusts make the whole bed shake, the headboard continuously banging against the wall and you’re so glad that you live in a penthouse, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to face neighbors in the morning. 

“I can cum inside, right?” Rúben asks, pulling his face away from your neck and you can only nod, unable to form any words. 

“That’s my girl.” he praises you, his hip punctuating a particularly deep thrust that makes both of you moan. 

“Want me to fill you up to the brim, right? You want all of my cum, don't you?” he keeps up, the coil in your stomach tightening with every delicious word he says. 

“Please, please. I need you so much.” you cry out, the need to climax too strong for you to handle. 

Rúben’s lips curl into a cocky smirk, pleased at your eagerness. He leans forwards to roughly kiss you, one of his hands leaving your own to curl around your throat and you gasp, feeling the coldness of one of his rings against your sensitive skin.

He parts the kiss, pressing his face so close to yours that your noses touch, his brown eyes focused on yours as he keeps pounding into you. 

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give your pussy every single drop of my cum and you’re gonna take it all like a good girl.“ he pants, breath faltering as he gets closer and closer to his high.

And so do you, letting out a whimper as you feel yourself on the verge of reaching your peak, eyes closing as you feel your body giving in. 

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, that’s what I’m gonna do. Gonna make sure you’re pregnant with my kid after I’m done with you.” he groans and your resistance breaks, incommensurable pleasure washing over you. 

The same happens to Rúben as he lets out an animalistic groan, spilling himself inside you before tiredly falling on top of you, his hand slipping away from your neck. Both of you remain in silence for a few moments, trying to calm your breathing, snuggled in each other’s embrace. 

Rúben is the first one to move, gently pulling himself up from you, propped on his elbows. His hand softly reaches to pull away some hair strands that had glued to your face and you look at him, giving him a tired smile. 

“You did amazing, babe. I love you so much.” he whispers, pressing small kisses to your face. 

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