#personally i think i'm overdone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thenationofzaun · 4 months ago

Text

The Vander/Silco Shitshow - generic, juvenile, and gimmicky slop

So, I think that Vander/Silco flashback was terrible. Tropey, careless, juvenile, clichéd bullshit that stripped away everything that made their season 1 story nuanced and poignant, while simultaneously ripping open a fat plot hole because the team got careless and did not catch the discrepancy between the story they'd written in their heads and the visuals that ended up on screen in season 1. This is just going to be a long rant post detailing the reasons I absolutely despised this flashback. Obligatory disclaimer that this is just my (strongly held) opinion.

1) The timeline plot hole

No, I'm not misusing the term. So a plot hole is an inconsistency in a fictional narrative that cannot be explained away by any plausible in-universe justifications. There are many moments of weak writing in Arcane that may be contrived, rushed, weird, convenient, etc. but aren't plot holes.

This Vander/Silco situation however. Oh boy. If you all remember, Season 1 opened with the bridge massacre, also known as the Day of Ash. Vander is shown cracking enforcers' skulls. He looks like this.

The sisters, seemingly recognizing him, ask him where their parents are. He gestures to their corpses, the sisters cry, Vander has his "violence is not the answer" epiphany, drops the gauntlets very dramatically to underscore this massive turning point of character development for him, then picks the girls up and leaves the bridge.

In episode 3, we are shown a flashback. Vander is trying to kill Silco in the river. He looks like this.

Let's compare this to how he looked like on the Day of Ash.

Yeah. According to the visuals shown in Season 1, the falling out of Vander and Silco seems to have occured in the past before the Day of Ash, evidenced by how much younger Vander looks. Unless Silco is a time traveller who jumped forward to the future to throw a molotov at the riot because he just loves violent extremism that much, or Vander took the time to shave his beard and apply heavy duty anti-aging lotion on his face before hunting Silco down, there are no plausible in-universe explanations for this inconsistency. Not to mention, if Silco and Vander were really as close as brothers and the sisters knew Vander, then it's impossible they wouldn't have known who Silco was.

Yet, in Season 1, that's exactly what we see - not a single sliver of recognition between Silco and the girls, nothing to imply they knew of his existence before episode 3. Not a single conversation between Jinx and Silco implied that he knew, let alone was close to, her mother. Nothing from Vi throughout the entire first season indicated that she knew of his past friendships with her mother and Vander. They acted like total strangers to each other.

Many fans already caught this inconsistency during the three-year gap after writers' comments online implied Silco was involved in the Day of Ash. We had hoped the writers would catch on to this discrepancy too and either iron out the timeline if they want to do serious flashbacks, or just avoid calling attention to it completely by not doing flashbacks of their falling out. Alas.

2) Leonardo Dicaprio pointing meme

Death to the everybody-knows-everyone trope and lines that only exist to invoke the "Leonardo Dicaprio pointing" meme. Throw them into a fucking fire. Boring, mind-numbing, clichéd, overdone garbage. Not every character needs to have some kind of half-baked relation with each other. Not every major incident needs to be tied back to the main characters. Not every single detail needs to be overexplained and justified and again, somehow tied to a main character. They are unnecessary, and make the world feel so much more claustrophobic and smaller than it should be.

"The enforcers actually commited the Day of Ash massacre because SILCO threw a molotov. Vander actually tried to kill Silco because of VI AND JINX'S mother. She knew both Silco and Vander personally and TOLD THEM to help her raise her kids. VANDER named Vi."

Bullshit like this really fucks with immersion, because it becomes clear very quickly that the world is only occupied by a small handful of real characters while the thousands of other people in it are nothing more than inconsequential set dressing and wallpaper. The story and world no longer feel real, vast, and immersive. And these forced "connections" between main characters are so obviously manufactured to generate "OUGHHH" and Dicaprio pointing reactions. Idk about anyone else, but it takes me completely out of the story when I can obviously tell the writing is trying too hard to blow my mind.

The girls' mom waltzing up to Vander and Silco and just. Fucking telling them to help her with her kids lmfaoooooooo. (OUGHH and they both really ended up raising her kids WOAGH😱🤯). Jinx's mom saying choosing a name is stressful because her child will feel stuck with it (GASP and Powder ended up changing her name WOOOOWW😱). Vander coming up with Vi's fucking name. (OUGHHHH HE REALLY WAS MEANT TO BE FATHER ALL ALONG WOADGHHGHDHDH🤯🤯🤯).

Fucking kill me. Arcane Season 1 was surprisingly good precisely because they DIDN'T, for the most part, resort to tropey bullshit like this. It had, for the most part, originality. Uniqueness. In fact all the strongest aspects of Season 1, aspects I loved, were deliberate subversions of overdone clichés. For Season 2 to resort to this kind of writing reminiscent of Disney slop is insanely disappointing.

I'm waiting for a character to unironically say, "What are we, some kind of League of Legends?" in Act 3 now.

3) "Ohhhhh so THAT'S why he did that!!!!!!!!!"

Also death to overexplanations and giving justifications for things that never needed justifications. You know what I was never confused by while watching Season 1 of Arcane? Why Vander adopted the girls. Why Silco adopted Jinx. Why both came to care for their girls so much, they were willing to sacrifice so much for them. I thought the reasons for those things were very clear and poignant in the first season. I never needed an extra on-the-nose justification for the adoptions in the form of, "they wuved yo mama". It's not only redundant, it's also one of the most tired ass tropes in fiction. To me, Vander taking in the girls and Silco taking in Jinx are so much more powerful if they really were just random guys with no real connection to the girls' parents.

But I've already seen some positive reactions to this flashback with "Ohhhhh so THAT's why Silco/Vander cared for the girls so much, now I understand😯🤯😓" mf what exactly did you not understand before??

4) Character motivations

The motivations of both Vander and Silco are made downright bizarre by this flashback. So Silco was hellbent on murdering Vi last season, despite being close friends with her mom whose death he may feel guilty for? Literally despised her and wanted to kill her the entire time with no hesitation lol. So Vander had that aforementioned dramatic moment of character development, dropped the gauntlets, realized violence wasn't the answer, and carried the kids to safety... then doubled back to violently hunt down and murder Silco? But not before shaving his beard and applying youthful lotion of course. Can't kill your bro while looking crusty. Then he failed to kill Silco so he just... went back to the kids and pretended like nothing happened? Lol.

Silco being close to, let alone loving, the girls' parents makes no fucking sense for his character. Vander knowing them at least makes sense, but casual friends would have sufficed. "I was lowkey crushing (?????) on your mom and also named you" just cheapened the entire Vander/Vi and Silco/Jinx surrogate father dynamic. Vander's motivation for killing Silco being yet another fridged woman is also weak as fuck. First Viktor with Sky, and now Vander/Silco. They really should have left this one up to our imaginations if this was the boring tripe they came up with.

#i have accepted that this show is generic comic book schlock for kids at this point #deeply childish and unserious writing #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane netflix #arcane critical #vander #silco #vi #jinx #powder #league of legends #arcane s2

456 notes · View notes

cripplecharacters · 16 days ago

Note

Is there any list of stuff you wanted to see more in autistic representation? I'm autistic and I'm quite "stereotype material": white savant male good at STEM and who's not aroace but don't want a partner, and it bugs me that it's always like that, so I wanted to know what other people would like to see when I try writing autistic people.

Hi!

Honestly, I just want more autistic characters in general. There are hardly any!

Here are some things that I have never seen represented:

characters with mid-high support needs, both related and unrelated to autism

characters who use AAC [link to post about high/low/no tech aac] and who struggle to communicate

characters with cerebral palsy, tourette's, intellectual disability, or any other common comorbid condition that's not ADHD

characters who don't live with their parents

characters who don't infodump or know a lot of facts about their special interests, just that their interests are the things they engage with

characters whose special interests aren't "useful" to their life

characters with "unusual" sensory needs (for example i always see characters who hate loud noises and bright lights, but i know many autistic people in real life who are not bothered by those or actively seek them out)

characters misdiagnosed in childhood with ODD or another common misdiagnosis, or neglected as a "difficult kid" even if they have higher support needs

characters who use gait trainers, adaptive strollers, or manual tilt in space chairs

characters who have a supportive community or know multiple other autistic people

adult characters in day programs

queer characters, especially ones whose sexuality or gender is difficult to separate from their autism

characters who have harmful stims and not only when they're upset

characters who are not big. (this might seem weird but there are a surprising number of tall/large/imposing autistic characters, especially those with higher support needs; that's not what every autistic person looks like!)

So Many More!! If every autistic writer made a character who was just like them, each one would have at least one autistic trait that has not been represented before.

Mod Rock

Hello!

To be honest, just characters that don't generalize autism. On one hand you have "representation" that's all "all autistics are boys, 12 or under, who like trains and barely speak" and on the other you have "hi, I'm a very low/no support needs autistic who is very socially acceptable and lol like imagine liking trains instead of having Real and Cool special interests like me" (sometimes it's overdone to the point the character quite literally doesn't have any autistic traits). Too much autistic representation made to combat a specific stereotype just ends up shitting on the people who do in fact exist. Some people say that "ahh all autistic rep is those damn boys with they trains!!" but I don't think anyone would say that this kind of representation is actually good or thoughtful - not because of the train or the boy, but because these characters are barely treated as humans most of the time.

We need more complex representation of all parts of the spectrum, from successful savants in STEM to "obviously disabled" autistics who are intellectually disabled, have huge mobility delays, and stim at all times, to "everyday" people who just have their special interest, don't get social cues, and are kinda awkward.

I'll take a "stereotypical" character that's actually explored and developed properly over a cardboard that's there to be a "subversion of autistic stereotypes" any day.

mod Sasza

Hi,

I largely agree with the mods above. Mostly I want autistic characters treated like people and not plot devices.

But I wanted to say specifically: I want autistic characters of color. I am basically begging to see more autistic characters who are not just white people. We exist too, and really I barely see characters who have autism and aren't white.

Also, I want to see autistic characters with romantic and/or sexual partners. I feel like autistic characters are often desexualized or infantilized in a way that has them only rarely having a partner.

And I also want to see autistic characters whose special interest[s] isn't "useful" to their life, it's just there. Just part of their life. Like, it isn't their job. I feel like that's often a default.

Like Sasza said, we really need more complex and thoughtful representation of the spectrum. I don't need 'subversion' of autistic stereotypes, not particularly.

The subversion itself would be an autistic character being more than a plot device and portrayed with thought and care to the things that make their life difficult, the ways their autism affects the way they interact with others and the world, the things that make the person unique and themselves, and not just focusing on one of those aspects and ignoring everything else.

Hope this helps,

mod sparrow

#autism representation #mod sasza #mod rock #mod sparrow

281 notes · View notes

homunculus-argument · 1 year ago

Text

I actually will probably never get tired of POV protagonists who glaringly lack self-awareness. I don't care how overdone it is, give me a mf who'll boldly announce "I don't think I'm particularly attractive, I am actually quite plain - anyway there's like three people currently fighting over me, and one who's going through a whole Identity Crisis Character Arc over their sexual orientation because they want me so bad. Also I'm not a particularly good or selfless person - yeah I ran into a burning building to save the life of someone I don't even like, but I hesitated for a second before I did so and therefore it doesn't count. Anyway I am extremely perceptive, and nothing gets past me, this giant neon sign above my head that reads 'BEHOLD THE DIPSHIT WHO KEEPS STANDING RIGHT BELOW' probably has nothing to do with me."

Protagonists who make me roll their eyes at them are fun to read. Write more characters whose only fault and character flaw is the fact that they're fucking stupid.

2K notes · View notes

littleredwolf · 2 months ago

Text

Home for Christmas

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It's Christmas Eve at the Avengers Compound and you and Wanda are busy making festive cookies for the team to enjoy upon their return from a mission.

Warnings: none. This is pure fluff/cosy Christmas content.

Words: 982

A/N: I wanted to have a go at something fluffy and festive, so I hope this ticks all the right boxes! Merry Christmas!

The snow fell in gentle cascades, blanketing the compound in a glittery shimmer that added a touch of magic to the view. Inside, the compound had been transformed into a festive haven, every corner adorned with twinkling lights and tinsel, while Christmas music played softly over the sound system, mingling with the rich scents of sugar, vanilla, and freshly baked gingerbread. It was like a scene straight out of a Christmas movie, so cosy and picturesque.

“I think we may have overdone it,” Wanda mused as the two of you stood at the counter to admire your afternoon's work.

The kitchen sides were covered with trays filled with cookies of all shapes and sizes. There were snowflakes, gingerbread men, Christmas trees, candy canes, Santa, stockings, and even some questionable looking reindeer. To anybody else, maybe it was a little too much, but with a team full of superheroes to feed, you wondered if maybe it wasn't enough.

“I don't think that's possible,” you replied, straightening one of the cookies on the tray closest to you. “The super soldiers alone will get through most of these between them.”

“I'm surprised you haven't made Bucky his own personal batch,” she said with a teasing smile.

At the mere mention of his name, your cheeks flushed and your chest tightened.

It had been nearly three weeks since you'd last seen Bucky, he and a few other members of the team had been away on a mission, and while he'd sent a few texts and the occasional picture (one particularly adorable shot of him and Sam looking begrudgingly festive in Santa hats), you missed him more than you’d like to admit.

The compound had felt strangely empty since he'd been gone, you'd missed his dry humour, his quiet strength, and the way he always managed to put you at ease simply by being there. Your bed had felt too big without him in it each night, and the absence of his arms around you and gentle kisses to soothe you to sleep had thrown your sleeping pattern completely off balance.

The excitement of his imminent return had been bubbling all morning, making you so impatient and restless that Wanda had insisted you do something to keep yourself busy, hence the cookies.

Now you were finished, however, the nervous excitement was returning, and you couldn't resist the frequent glances out the window to see if you could spot the quinjet through the snow.

“You really love him, don't you?” Wanda smiled as she began to tidy everything away, sending the dirty utensils to the dishwasher with a wave of her hand.

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating her words, then slowly nodded. Although neither of you had used the ‘L’ word yet, there was no denying how you felt.

“Yeah, I do. It's different with him, Wanda - I can be myself around him without feeling like I have to dilute any part of my personality. I never thought I'd find someone who just accepts me as I am - even the messy, broken bits! He’s just, so damn perfect, you know? I feel like pinching myself sometimes because it feels too good to be true!” Your tone was light, but there was no hiding your insecurities from Wanda Maximoff - she knew you better than you knew yourself most days.

She reached over the counter to squeeze your hand, smiling softly. “He feels the same way, you know. Anyone can see it.”

Before you could respond, the compound’s security system chimed, announcing an incoming quinjet. Your heart leapt - they were home!

“They’re here!” you exclaimed, abandoning your work and rushing to the window. Through the snow, you could just make out the sleek shape of the jet landing on the pad outside.

Wanda laughed as she trailed after you.“I think you’re more excited about this than Christmas itself,” she teased.

You turned to her with a thoughtful expression. “I'd say it's a draw,” you smirked, and she shook her head with a laugh. You turned to the window again, but the snow was so thick now that you could barely see a thing.

“What are you waiting for? Go and greet your man!” Wanda urged, giving you a gentle nudge.

You didn’t need to be told twice - you slipped on your shoes and dashed outside, forgetting to even put on a coat in your rush. The icy wind bit at your cheeks, but you hardly noticed as the quinjet’s hatch opened and the team began descending the ramp. Sam was the first to emerge, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Merry Christmas!” he called, waving as he approached and pulling you into a bear hug. “Now, where are the cookies?”

“It’s good to see you too!” You laughed, giving him a playful shove as you sent him on his way, your attention snapping to the next figure emerging from the jet.

Bucky stepped out into the snowy evening, his eyes scanning the landing pad until they found you. His face softened instantly, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he hastily made his way down the ramp.

You didn’t wait for him to reach you. You ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck as he caught you, pulling you close. The familiar scent of him - leather and something faintly metallic - wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

“You’re freezing,” he gasped, brushing his gloved hand over your cheek.

“I don’t care,” you replied, smiling up at him. “You’re home.”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin mirroring yours as he cupped your face. “I’m home.”

He pressed his lips to yours, filling you with so much warmth that it instantly melted away the agony of the last three weeks.

Out of all the gifts you could have received for Christmas, being back in Bucky's arms was by far the best one.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes x reader #mcu fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes x reader

195 notes · View notes

alexanderwales · 3 months ago

Text

Zombie fiction has a problem, which is that in the real world, zombie fiction exists.

So you have two basic approaches: either you have the protagonists and general public say "what's happening, why are the dead rising, I got bit but I'm going to be fine", or you have the protagonists say "this is so weird, it's just like in all that zombie fiction!"

These are both annoying in their own way, but I find the latter approach to be more deeply irritating, personally, the kind of meta that's just lazy and overdone in spite of not having been done all that often.

This is a problem that notably doesn't exist in most other genres. People go to look up vampires on their computer all the time, and they say "wait, the legends are true??", and the vampire says "I did not like our depiction in Nosferatu very much". This is totally fine, the legends bled into popular culture or whatever. But zombie fiction is among those that can't do this, because it's a different kind of story, and there's no hiding it, no covering it up. If zombies were in any way real there would be mandatory training on how to kill them and CDC warnings and structural responses, which does substantially take away from the genre.

Now, would I read a zombie story that took place in a world where zombie outbreaks were a semi-regular occurrence with policies and procedures and discourse and training? Yeah, I guess, if it was well-written. But most of the long-running zombie stories get there eventually, once all the survivors have been doing the survival thing, and I can think of a few examples. It's hard to get right, much harder than the "what is happening, what is this" sort of story.

#zombies

270 notes · View notes

neil-gaiman · 1 year ago

Note

Hello Mr Neil,

I want to share how I feel about Sherryl the supermodel from Good Omens. You've answered a question previously when someone felt that her representation was lacking empathy (re the visual effects note in the script book, although the scene was cut), and I want to offer my thoughts to help people who felt that way about Sherryl.

The book (Good Omens, not the scripts, which I haven't read) plays with dark topics and makes them absurd and fun, aiming the jabs at the systems that (mis)guide or harm people (there are Beliefs, the People who Believe them, and the odd ways of living that make sense to them). Famine's D-Plan sums up the diet industry and a culture of starvation: of course we don't laugh /at/ Sherryl, we understand (because of everything the novel sets up) that like every other human she does her best with the frameworks she's got. It's empathetic, because that's what Good Omens is. Understanding that let me reframe the knee-jerk reaction I had on my first read of the scene in the book.

[For the TV show, though, as you've explained in the past, certain things had to be adapted to the time. I wonder sometimes - because I know that you do these things well - how you felt about approaching Sherryl nearly 30 years later.]

I think the trouble for me was that the scene in the book felt cruel at first. Now, I think 'A skeleton in a Dior dress' beautifully sums up the sacrifice of her humanity to become New York's top model. It's death dressed up - that's how such extremely-ill supermodels *should* appear to us if only we were unblinkered. One should see plainly the actual violence in an emaciated person's appearance. Maybe growing up with early 2000s aggressive body-shaming British TV shows and an overweight mother of Sherryl's generation as well as personal experience of anorexia made the 'skeleton' image feel cruel, now-overdone and recognisable to the nastiest unhealed bits in my psyche.

I think the frightened human animal in me initially recoiled from the dehumanisation. The pit of me jerked at the descriptions of Sherryl that felt like real insults, pulled straight from mainstream body-shaming media of my formative years. Of course, Good Omens predates this - thin was in, religiously, and the scene was subversive then - but that was my initial bodily feeling, not a thoughtful response. I describe it to illustrate where the challenge was, after we've gone from skinny worship in the 90s, to domestic skinny enforcement, to skinny shame, to wherever we are now in the popular orthorexic fitness culture and clean-eating minefield etc etc. Starvation dehumanises, and Sherryl was sick to the point of being inhuman - the scene under a microscope might feel complicit in dehumanisation to the sensibilities of teens and young adults today (for the same reason that people in Trafalgar Square can't see England), but within the book it humanises Sherryl by showing you plainly what awful thing has happened to her.

What the book did for me was let me delight in a sense of humour that makes difficult things totally absurd and therefore perfectly understandable. It told me, everyone is doing their best (to the best of their understanding), and when the fun-poking poked at my own pressure points, it said, lovingly, yes, you too. Many things about the book are like laughing with a friend or receiving a warm hug - it makes the big things so silly, and shared, and okay.

Thanks :) x <3

I am glad that is how you saw her. That is how we saw her. (I'm reminded of the only time I was ever at a high fashion event, where I found myself profoundly shocked by the incredible thinness of the models, and how sorry for them I felt, and how I wanted to feed them soup and stew and sandwiches. And of a high fashion model I knew a little, when she went out with a friend of mine, who told me that some girls she knew used heroin to stop the hunger pains, injecting themselves between their toes, and later I learned that my friend broke up with her when he learned she was a heroin addict.)

1K notes · View notes

mamisfavmosher · 10 months ago

Note

Heyyy I just read your poly judgment day x reader, and I was wondering if I could request something. Could you write something in poly? Judgment Day gets jealous.

I KNOW I KNOW the jealous trope is basic and overdone, but I love it. Could it end in SFW? We all love a bit of NSFW, but I rarely see people write the Jealous trope without making it NSFW.

so I'm thinking something before the time of JD being in the Judgment Day because I wanna write it in a way that Damian is even more pissed because it's JD trying to get with their girl...

thief in the clubhouse // poly!judgment day x fem!reader

warnings: language, a bit violence, mentions of death threats, etc

Readers POV

I was lounging in the Judgment Day's clubhouse backstage at a show, waiting for Rhea and the boys to get back from a segment. Casually scrolling through my phone and listening to their segment on a monitor, I wasn't paying much attention to anything else.

"Hey, beautiful." A voice from the other side of room called out. I quickly looked over to see who was talking and a glare immediately set on my face. JD stood in the doorway, smirking at me, before walking closer to me to sit on the couch I was lounging on.

"What do you want? You're not supposed to be in here." I told him, a hint of warning in my voice. "They'll be back any second." I pointed back toward the screen where the gothic members of the Judgment Day were exiting the ring.

"It's fine! I don't think they'll mind someone loving on their girl while they're gone..." JD said, scooting closer on the couch towards me. My eyebrows instantly furrowed at his words.

"Don't come any closer. And, they definitely would mind!" I gave him a pointed look and moved over a few inches on the couch, suddenly very aware of all his movements.

"Oh, c'mon. I'm practically in the Judgment Day already. Doesn't that mean you're my girl, too?" JD had a sick smirk on his face as he moved to kneel in front of me, grabbing at my hands.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled out and quickly moved toward the door, desperate to get away from him. At the same moment, the door to the clubhouse swung open, Rhea and the boys walking in.

All four of their faces immediately dropped at the sight of JD, death glares of different degrees being sent toward him.

"He tried to touch me!" I yelled toward them, clearly worked up about the situation. "He came in here and wouldn't leave." I watched with wide eyes as Damian stormed over to JD, throwing him against the wall.

"How many times do I have to tell you! You're not welcome here and you're not part of the Judgment Day! And, now you're touching my girl?! Our girl?!" Damian continued slamming him against the wall, lifting him off his feet and holding him by his neck. Rhea, Finn, and Dom ran over to the two men, genuinely fearing for JD.

"Damian!" and "Damian, let him go!" rang out through the clubhouse as the three other members tried to get Damian to loosen his grip on JD's neck.

"You thought you could touch her?!" Damian yelled at JD among other vile threats toward his life. Finn and Rhea were finally able to pull Damian's arms away enough to drop JD to the ground.

"You piece of shit..." Dom sneered and kicked at JD's heaving body.

"If you even think of touching her again... We'll let him kill you." Rhea threatened in a deep tone, warning him of Damian's wrath. "Get out."

JD scrambled to his feet and stumbled out the door, still gasping for air. Finn slammed and locked the door behind him before walking towards me and pulling me into his arms. His hands smoothed over my hair in a comforting manner, resting his chin on my head. I relaxed in his hold, relishing in his warmth.

"I think we should hire a personal bodyguard for her." Rhea said through gritted teeth, still glaring at the door. Dom nodded in agreement and I let out a small giggle at their words.

"I don't need a bodyguard. Besides, Damian would probably try and kill him, too." I laughed out, gently pulling away from Finn to give Damian a hug. He gladly accepted it and held me tightly against him.

"You're ours. Anyone else gets a death threat." Damian muttered in a growl before planting a kiss on the top of my head.

"Not a death sentence?" Dom joked, gently nudging Damian's arm.

"Depends on the crime. She said he tried to touch her. Not that he succeeded." Damian remarked with a grimace. Rhea laughed out loud at his comment.

"Either way, you're fully protected, pretty girl." Rhea said, walking over to kiss my cheek and gently smooth down my hair.

"I love you guys." I said with a sweet smile, making sure to look at all of them. "Thanks for saving me."

"No problem, lass. We'll always be there to save you." Finn said with a smirk, kissing my other cheek.

"Save a kiss for me, guys." Dom complained, running over to plant a small kiss on my lips.

We spent the rest of the night watching the matches on the monitor, cuddled up on the couch. I had never felt more safe and protected.

#rhea ripley #wwe #the judgement day #wwe superstars #damian priest #dominik mysterio #finn balor #fanfiction #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio x reader #finn balor x reader #damian priest x reader #poly!judgment day #poly!wwe #poly relationship #poly!judgment day x reader #wwe x reader #judgment day x reader

788 notes · View notes

artist-issues · 3 months ago

Note

Sounds like Moana 2 felt like the rushed tv movie it was supposed to be.

THIS IS THE MOANA 2 CRITIQUE POST

I'm tired of excusing things with the word "rushed." If you have less time to produce, you should simplify what you're trying to say. That way, all your small amount of time can be spent on carefully building the best way to say it. Moana 2 felt very unfocused. It felt like it was trying to say:

"You Can’t Survive in Isolation" (but like why not? why do they need their neighboring islands? Don’t make up a reason—tell me the reason the movie showed you.)

"There's Always Another Way” (what? As opposed to what? One way? What One Way was Moana demonstrably sticking to before the not-really-villainess sang her song? Wasn’t finding that One Way ((“learning where to go by remembering who you are/where you’ve been”)) the whole point of the first movie? Now we’re throwing that out the window?)

"Together But a Little Different" ("Different" as in 'In-New-Circumstances' not "Different" as in 'We’re-Different-So-It’s-Hard-to-Relate-to-One-Another,’ which would've been the better, more cohesive sense of ‘Different’.)

“Something-Something Stories Are Important” (literally they just substitute the phrase “we’ll die” with “our story will end.” No mention of why that’s bad, or what makes a story a story, no reason why stories are important, or what for, just throwing the word “story” around vaguely.)

And none of those "themes" I listed just now had a lot of work put into them. That’s it, in a nutshell. But I can flesh-out my argument for those, and present what I think they could’ve easily done differently, if they’d just picked one and worked hard to make it simply good. SPOILERS BELOW.

“You Can’t Survive in Isolation”

We're told in a quick vision that Moana's people will die if they stay in isolation—but there's no showing us that.

In fact, what we've been shown is that they're thriving, they're fine by themselves. They were in the first movie. They are at the beginning of the second.

So we're not convinced that they need what the whole adventure is supposedly about. Compare that to the first movie! Totally doesn't measure up to the storytelling quality!

In the first movie, the whole first act sets up the idea of darkness reaching through the ocean from Tefiti's missing heart, killing everything. That’s especially bad for Moana’s people. We know that because we’re shown how Moana's people are so deeply connected to the ecosystem of their island, and how every part of it is needed for their way of life to continue—then were also shown that Moana has a deep, personal longing to leave the island. There’s a real connection to home and an urgent need to leave it, and that creates really good emotional tension.

So by the time we're shown (not told in one scene, or through snatches of overdone dialogue, but shown) how the darkness will destroy everything if she doesn't go, we really believe it. We have lots of reasons to empathize with and believe in Moana’s reason for going on this mission. We also feel for her having to make the big decision; we’ve been shown that she’s trying to live up to her responsibilities, and leaving the island would seem like a dismissal of those responsibilities, but we can also see how doing nothing and staying actually would be a dismissal. We feel that tension because they showed us several believable reasons to feel it.

But when Moana is singing “Beyond,” which is supposedly about her conflicting feelings about leaving, and the need to go? I’m just bored. Not emotionally invested. I just saw her going back-and-forth, leaving and coming back, leaving and coming back, one song ago, in “We’re Back.” And everything was fine during that song. Leaving-And-Coming-Back is the dream she’s been living as a voyager. So why is she suddenly convinced it’s a hard decision to…leave-and-plan-to-come-back?

“Because the last voyager died doing this mission she’s about to go on! She might die too!” Okay but all you did was tell me that. You didn’t show me Moana nearly-dying (like she did the first time she tried to cross the reef, or the first time she tried to tackle Te Ka on her own) and then realizing, “gee, oh no, I could die this time,” and then having to make a renewed decision to go anyway. You didn’t put work in, so I don’t believe it.

But the emotion Moana is feeling about leaving is also undercut, like I said, because there doesn’t seem to be a need for her to leave. All they did was tell me that Motunui is in trouble if it stays isolated. But no proof. They were fine isolated from other islands in Moana 1. They have been fine up until now in Moana 2. One random vision of an empty pavilion for three seconds isn’t going to make me forget that and believe that continued isolation will do anything negative to them.

And another thing, what does “uniting with other islands” even mean?” Why would it be such a good thing?

Nobody mentions trade. Nobody mentions learning from one another, or demonstrates learning from one another. Honestly, having Kele teach Moana or Moni or the Kakamora, an actual other-islander, about farming would’ve been a great demonstration of “why we need to meet new people and get out more.”

Having Kele LEARN TO SWIM would have been a SLOW ONE DOWN THE MIDDLE.

But nooo. They just half-bake suggest the idea that the old man doesn’t like leaving his comfort zone, but then never let one of the others have a real conversation with him about why he needs to learn new things from new people. NEVER. It’s just “bouncy vague song, almost-jump-in-the-water-under-coercion BUT NEVER ACTUALLY DO IT, banter and one liners” for the rest of the movie! (And don’t tell me Kele “learning to speak Kakamora” was an example of him “getting out of his comfort zone.” No. Kele never demonstrated a lack of desire to meet and learn new things from strangers. He demonstrated a hatred of fun and the ocean. All the others could also understand the Kakamora literally whenever they needed to, so that wasn’t a special-character-arc for Kele.)

Even though, my point is, they could’ve easily had a character arc for Kele. And that would’ve had something to do with “learn new things from new people, or die stagnant and stuck in your ways,” look, see, a mini-object-lesson in one character’s journey about the theme of the movie. But noooo

They could’ve done the same type of “learn-something-new-or-die” with Moni. Have him be convinced that doing things the “traditional Motunui Wayfinding Way” on this, his first adventure, is the ONLY way to do things. But he’s not good at it, no matter how much head-knowledge he has. And then the Kakamora (or literally any non-Motunui-character) could’ve shown him a newly-developed style for him to learn and grow.

They could’ve done the same type of “learn-something-new-or-die” with Loto. But nope. She just has a really poorly-done, poorly-written, poorly-performed snippet of a song where she mentions how… “perfection is a myth, the journey is just failing, learning, then death, no destination, ever.” But that ridiculous, absolutely absurd worldview is not portrayed as something she’s wrong about or needs to grow out of. It’s portrayed as a good, quirky, revolutionary thing.

But that’s not the same thing as portraying the value I’m describing. Loto just sings about it and invents-and-reinvents canoes. She does not learn how to make canoes from outsiders. She doesn’t learn anything from anybody. She is portrayed as a solitary genius with her own ideas who’s never once shown to be wrong about anything in the whole movie, and everything she tries works. She never messes up or makes a mistake, for all her singing about it. So she never actually “falls on her face, then gets up and learns.” Even though learning from others would be the literal only way for her character to portray the idea of this vague theme they throw out there, “You Can’t Survive in Isolation.”

The point is: there is no reason, in-movie, SHOWN, for the audience to believe that Moana should “re-unite the islands.” There’s no believable demonstration of why that would be a good thing, and no believable demonstration of why not doing it would be a bad thing.

So then why do we care if she risks her life and Maui’s life to re-unite the islands? For a bunch of nameless nobody background characters to show up for a five-second afterparty on Motunui at the end? Ridiculous.

Moving on.

“There’s Always Another Way”

So BUMP ALL THAT, I GUESS.

Matangi, everybody’s Cherished Hope for a New Villain, sings a song and it’s about “get lost, there is no one way, there’s always a different way.”

Fine. Cool. Whatever. The whole point of the first movie was that there’s this symbolic, ancient, WAY of sailing and living your life bravely. And Moana doesn’t know what that One WAY is because her tribe had forgotten it, so she has to learn it. It’s cool, because you navigate by looking at where you’ve been, to see where you’re going. It’s the whole “remember who you are in order to face life’s challenges, not hide from them.” That’s “the Way.” But whatever. Dump that down the toilet, new movie. You know why? Because everybody’s obsessed with “There’s No One Truth,” and “There Is No Right and Wrong,” and “Let’s Experience Things Just to Experience Them, the Journey is the Destination Because We’re not Going Anywhere!” Blah blah blah ridiculous inane sewage slop.

BUT whatever, fine, IF you mean it in a “There’s Lot’s of Ways to Solve Most Problems, Try Try Again,” sense, that’s okay. That’s true for most problems (not all, but most, certainly there are more than one ways to sail.) Sure. that message, if that’s what they mean, is fine. That’s the sense in which Moana takes it, at least, when she dives down to touch the Core Island and break the curse instead of it rising.

But you know what? Yeah. They don’t flesh it out. They don’t take time to show that that’s what’s happening. Moana doesn’t try to teach her new crew how to sail, and they suck at it, but if she lets them do it their own way or whatever, then they work—and she learns there’s “more than one way.” That doesn’t happen.

The Kakamora that joins their team doesn’t solve all his problems with blow darts, or violence, or whatever—and then Moana, or the kindhearted Moni, or the peaceful Kele, tells him, “no, there’s another way, you don’t always have to do things your violent way.” That doesn’t happen.

Loto has one moment where she applies the way she was already living according-to, from the moment we meet her, not a NEW way, to the canoe so that the gang can out-sail magical waterspouts. And it works for like twenty seconds, is played like a great triumph, before they all get smashed into the ocean anyway.

Kele, again, would’ve been a great example of “learn to do things in a different way, or problem-solve by try-trying again.” Because he’s old and they set him up as hating life for no reason and not wanting to do new things. But they didn’t do anything with him.

And guess what else—at the end—when Moana has her own demigod powers, and her own magical-arm-tattoo ripped off from Tears of the Kingdom—guess what her magic power is?

To stick her oar in the water, and light up one current or “path” for the boat to take to a new destination.

A Path. ONE SINGULAR SOLITARY WAY.

Not “a new way.” Not “all possible ways.” Not “multiple ways.” Not even two ways. One. Even though the big lesson she sacrificed her life for, even though the one and only song Matangi got to sing, was about how “there’s always another way.”

WHILE they’re singing a reprise of, “We Know THE Way.”

It’s like being in a conversation with someone who starts a sentence and then forgets what they were saying halfway through, and winds up saying worse than nothing.

“Together, But a Little Different”

Like I said, if you told me that the Main Point of the movie (not one of many vague ideas, but the Main Point) was “Together, But a Little Different,” I immediately would’ve said:

“Oh, so it’s about having to adjust to long-distance relationships. Maybe even death.” Or, maybe, because I saw the trailers, I’d go, “Oh, so it’s about keeping what makes us unique, but uniting when we need to, in spite of our differences. ‘Together, But a Little Different.’”

No. It’s not about any of that. It’s just a phrase the Grandma’s Ghost says whenever she hugs Moana to remind her that she’s still “with her.” She’s still with her; she just glows and can shapeshift into a manta ray now! That has tons of application for real life. 🙄

It’s supposed to be her words of comfort to pass on to Moana, who can then pass it on to the people in her island, so they know that she won’t “ever really leave them.” But like. Then why should I care that she’s leaving them? Why should that be sad? If there’s no sacrifice in being apart, in leaving for the adventure, then the adventure keeps feeling low-stakes and boring and kind of pointless.

If you tilt your head and squint, it’s also maybe-applying to Moana’s pointless ugly annoying Little Sister character, Simea. Simea is in the movie so that someone can be immature for three seconds about how Moana’s always gone from home. And I do mean exactly three seconds, that’s all the emotional drama we get, and it’s not built up to either. She says, “Never come back? -sniff sniffle- I don’t want you to gooo!” And then runs away and then Moana takes a break from singing the next day to briefly explain to Simea about how she can pass messages through the ocean. Then she’s fine.

But the way this theme is thrown around, you think it would mean, “Moana Has to Go Away Sometimes, But if You Remember Her She Never Leaves You.”

But seriously. Again I say to you, who cares? We know Moana is coming back. We know that. Nobody in the audience seriously believes she’s never coming back when she leaves for this adventure. If we did, maybe we’d care that Simea cares. But we don’t.

Even when Moana “dies,” and it’s the perfect time to be like, “seeee, what we feeeared has happened, she’s dead, she can never go home to Simea!” THERE IS NO FOLLOW-THROUGH. There’s not even a cut to Simea back on Motonui, feeling through the ocean or the Force or whatever movie mumbo-jumbo that her sister is gone. And there is not even a deadline, in the movie, for Moana to accomplish this mission, so it’s not like she could be running late and we could get some scenes of Moana’s family mourning. Simea having to do something, take some big step, that show’s she’s willing to go on even if she can’t be with Moana anymore because she believed Moana about how she’s always with her—something like that.

My point is, Simea has no real point, so she doesn’t add to this “Together, But Different.” idea at all. And we already know that it doesn’t mean, “overcome our differences” from what I said in the first Theme.

But what they could have done? They COULD have gone whole-hog and MADE MOANA A BELIEVABLE DEMIGOD. Instead of a vague joke about tattoos that leaves the question open-ended, a pointless and theme-breaking display of shiny superpowers, and no other change to the status quo—

—they could’ve shown that there are consequences to that action—maybe she’s a Demigod of Navigation, or something like that, and the condition is, she can sail around connecting islands, but she can never stay on one too long. So she’ll never be able to live with Simea and her parents again on Motunui, but it’s the price she has to pay to connect the islands. Then she’d have to show Simea how they can still be “Together, Just a Little Different.”

Or someone could’ve gotten hurt or disabled, giving off the idea that even though everything is “different,” they can still be “together.”

Maui could’ve died and passed his fishhook powers, AND MINI MAUI, on to Moni or Moana. “Together, but different.”

Nothing, nothing at all like that happens. It’s just a pretty phrase that could’ve meant something, but any meaning it actually has hamstrings the whole emotional weight of the story instead of fueling it.

“Something-Something Stories Are Important”

The thing here is. I already said it. You can’t just say words and expect them to be impactful, in a story. You’re supposed to show what they mean and why they’re true, and THAT’S what creates an impact.

So when you’re talking about “stories” in a story, you definitely should not have nothing to say.

And I can feel it. I’ve seen none of the promotional material, I don’t watch the interviews, I haven’t checked BuzzFeed or ScreenRant or the Disney Youtube page in a while, but I can feel it.

I can feel them trying to say, “Something Something, ‘Storytelling’ is a big part of Pacific Islander Culture!” I can imagine the headlines. “[Actor or Disney Exec Name Here] Invites You to Celebrate Your Story with Pacific Islander Heritage Month!” They’re so into “culture as a marketing tool” these days.

But they say it so lazily. Just repeating the word “story” over and over in the movie doesn’t pay tribute to how important “stories” are to Pacific Islanders. Or to anybody.

You know what makes stories impactful? They point at truth, when the darkness and misunderstandings and evil of the world threaten to distract you or hide the truth. That’s what makes stories impactful. I’m sure Pacific Islanders use stories in that way—to pass on what they believe to be true, in a way that can be retold and remembered.

So MAKE THAT THE THEME OF YOUR MOVIE. Instead of just having Moana replace “Nalo wants to kill us” with “Nalo wants to end our story” for Empty Effect—instead of having Grandma say something about “your e

Okay okay.

Nalo is a silly, lazy villain. He is clearly a Thanos rip-off in design and introduction in a literal post-credits scene, and his most-present form, in the movie, is just a big ocean thunderstorm. But the laziest thing about him is that he’s the Conflict that everyone is trying to rise up and overcome, and the whole reason he sunk the Island was “He gets power from humans being divided.”

That’s never explained. It’s never shown at all why he gets power from the vague “humans are divided” thing. He has no scenes. He has no interactions with other characters (till the end-credits scene.) A range of his power, like “here’s what it looks like when the humans are divided—oh, now here’s how much less-powerful he is when they’re together!” is never shown. So. No consequences if the heroes fail, no change to the status-quo, villain-wise, when they win.

If Nalo wanted to end their stories, though, that would be another thing.

Stories are meant to be told. They’re for the benefit of others. So what they should’ve done is made the secret key of Nalo’s power hidden. Unknown. Nobody knows how to beat him. And he’s not sinking some unfindable island in another dimension. He’s just devouring the resources of the weather with his ever-more-powerful storms, (kind of like the darkness leaking through the ocean from the first movie) and nobody can stop him.

But that’s because each island, around Oceania, has clues to how to beat him. Clues in their stories. But they can only sail so far from what they know before his storms kill them. So he’s literally making them weaker by using his power to keep them apart, and making himself stronger by defending his weakness. Now they can’t Wayfind to each other, and learn one another’s cultural advancements or stories or beauties, because Nalo is powerful enough to make storms that rip their boats apart. But if they could learn from one another’s stories about the things their ancestors used against him, they could get rid of him.

That’s what they should’ve done. Shown why Nalo was a threat and how the Main Theme was the key to overcoming that threat.

They did not do that.

They made stories just a hot button word to be thrown around with no impact. In a story.

The point of this post is that Moana 2 had a lot of potentially-good points, and it made none of them, so it was totally unsatisfying. If it had just focused on one, the other little benefits they were trying to fit in could’ve been mentioned more naturally.

The way that Beauty & the Beast is all about ONE theme: “True Love is Self-Sacrificial.” But because of the tools it uses to tell that story—a beast that it would take a lot of self-sacrifice to be stuck with forever—you get little side-themes thrown in, supporting and draping decoratively over the ONE theme: “Beauty is Found Within, So Don’t Be Deceived By Appearances,” etc.

Moana 2 should’ve just picked the Story One, and it could’ve had that theme, and it’s cultural-nod cake, and it’s unifying-effect cake, and EATEN IT TOO.

And we could’ve eaten it. And WE could’ve enjoyed it! But no. Money money money lazy lazy lazy.

191 notes · View notes

haartemis · 5 months ago

Text

THE ALCHEMY

pairing: kylian mbappe x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, mentions of mental illness

summary: working at real madrid is a dream come true— until kylian mbappe, football's biggest star and the last person you ever want to see, joins the club. as tensions rise between you two and the lines between frustration and fascination blur, you wonder: can you truly resist the man you've sworn to hate?

A/N: based on this request. i know club employee x player is a bit overdone but i had so much fun writing this! let me know if it's worth continuing. pls also share any other thoughts you have in my inbox or in the comments, i love hearing from you guys <3

“it’s almost time!” your boss whisper-yells as he runs into the break room, the sudden interruption jolting you so much you spill coffee from the mug you were holding onto your pristine white shirt. “quick, everyone get ready!”

you set down your mug carefully, looking down at your ruined shirt with a sigh. it was bad enough you had to come in early today for his presentation, but now your daily morning coffee ritual in the break room was ruined – all for real madrid’s newest galactico.

after doing his medical exams, touring the training facilities and meeting his new teammates, kylian mbappe apparently insisted that he see the club offices before his stadium presentation, ‘to meet the employees that he now calls family’. you’d snorted when you read the email announcing his visit, irritated at the fact that you’d have to play nice to the most arrogant, self - absorbed person to ever step foot in madrid.

you figured he’d make a quick stop on the first floor to see the social media team. that was the department the players engaged with the most, anyway. no way he’d go all the way up to the fourth floor, where the finance department resided. yet, here you are, standing with the rest of the team, facing the door, waiting to be graced by the presence of the best player in the world.

naturally, he’s running late.

“we have our weekly meeting in 15” you frown, looking at your phone. “what’s taking him so long?”

“forget the weekly meeting. we’ll reschedule” your boss, who loathes postponing anything, waves you off dismissively. he’s unusually smiley today, practically vibrating with excitement. he even has the new mbappe jersey in hand, no doubt to ask for an autograph. you’ve never seen a grown man fanboy this hard; it’s kind of pathetic if you think about it.

your ears perk up at the sound of commotion outside the double doors, where you can see there’s a small crowd of people forming. the doors swing open a few moments later and in walks the talk of the town, flanked by a couple staff members, what looked like his personal assistant, a small camera crew, and a bodyguard. you can hear the collective intake of breath from the room as soon as he walks in.

“hello, everyone!” he walks to the center of the room, practiced smile plastered on his face. " how's everyone doing? i'm really happy to be here!"

the team immediately erupts into applause at his words. you reluctantly join, rolling your eyes.

he starts shaking hands and exchanging quick hellos as he makes his way further in the room. when he approaches your group, he stops in front of your boss. you can't help but notice how his beige polo shirt and white shorts make him stand out sharply from the dozens of people in the room dressed in bland office attire.

"we-welcome to real madrid!" your boss exclaims, stumbling over his words. you stare at the ground, fighting the urge to laugh.

“thanks, I’m excited to meet all of you,” kylian replies warmly, his gaze shifting to you for a brief moment. “and you are…?”

" y/n l/n, financial analyst" you say, putting on your best fake smile. "pleasure to meet you"

"pleasure is all mine" he murmurs, extending his hand towards you. you shake it, and his grip is surprisingly firm and warm. you maintain eye contact, searching for something in his face.

“sorry, I was wondering if you could sign this?” your boss interrupts, gesturing to his jersey.

"of course" kylian says. you overhear your co-workers gushing over him as he signs the jersey, declarations ranging from "he's more handsome in person" to "i can't believe he's actually here". he has a small smirk playing on his face as he listens, the jerk. of course what he needs is more fodder for his already inflated ego.

after handing your boss his jersey back, he turns back towards you , catching you off guard. “so, how long have you been with the club?”

"two years" you respond. "best workplace in the world, as i'm sure you're going to find out"

"oh, i already know'" he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "i've been obsessed with this club since i was a little kid"

"really?" you tilt your head skeptically. " you didn't give that impression the past 6 years or so"

silence.

his eyes narrow, and was that an irritated look crossing his face? your heart races when you realize you've struck a nerve. he looks at you– really looks at you for the first time. before, you were just one of many he was obliged to make small talk to for the cameras but now you're the annoying woman who dares to question him.

“it's been a long road, i admit” he says carefully. “but i’m here now, and i’m just really happy”

“the biggest signing bonus we’ve ever given – i'd be surprised if you weren't over the moon” you say drily.

he clears his throat, smile completely faltering for a moment. “money isn’t my motivation”

“sure it isn’t!” you chirp sarcastically.

"no, really. i have plently of that already" he smirks, his gaze lazily dropping down to your chest. "you have a stain on your shirt, by the way”

"can we- shall we all gather for a group photo?" your boss, who was watching the entire exchange with a horrified look on his face, waves everyone over. he shoots you a pained look as he ushers kylian into the center of the group, mouthing a 'what the fuck???' over his shoulder. you grimace as you stand off to the side, arms crossed.

kylian lingers for a little bit after the photos, chatting with eager people, which, let's be honest, is everyone else besides you. a few minutes later his assistant announces that he needs to be on his way to get ready for the stadium presentation, so he makes his rounds again, shaking everyone's hand and saying goodbye individually.

when he approaches you, his smile fades a little. it thrills you to know it takes him more effort to fake his niceties with you.

"it was nice meeting you..." he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to finish the sentence.

you almost roll your eyes, of course he’s pretending not to remember your name.

“it’s y/n” your boss supplies when you stay silent. he’s grinning, just glad to be of service to the great kylian mbappe.

“y/n, yes!” kylian’s eyebrows rise in feigned realization. He gives you an exaggerated apologetic shrug, then leans in close, whispering just for you, “sorry, y/n, it’s just that some names are…forgettable.”

"just like some nights are forgettable,” you whisper back “or at least you wish they were, just because they’re so fucking bad.”

he gives you a genuinely confused look, a question in his eyes.

“yeah, i’d block out the memory of lasting one minute too” you smirk. “ I still have your watch, by the way”

his eyes widen so much it’s almost comical. there’s an undeniable look of recognition on his face. oh, he remembers now.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he’s whisked away by his entourage. he's actually running late for his presentation now.

you shake your head as you watch him go. he's exactly as you remember him: all charm on the surface and arrogance underneath.

this is the story of how you come to despise kylian mbappe. it starts off six months before that fateful morning in madrid, in packed nightclub in paris. you're on a weeklong girls' trip, your first time in the city of love. you've done all of the activities on a tourist's checklist: gone sightseeing, had some of the amazing pastries, and of course, taken the mandatory instagram pictures.

on your last night, you and your friend decide to go to some of the most exclusive clubs in the city – your friend, who does pr for the big fashion houses, has connections that get you past doors.

you're just coming out of a period of depression, something you’ve struggled with throughout your life. after several months of feeling like a grey cloud was hanging over you everywhere you went, you crave some excitement and spontaneity— basically something to remind you you're alive. and so you're a woman on a mission that night: to find a hot man and hook up with him. no strings attached.

it turns out, you don't have to look far. you're on the dance floor of the first club you visit, moving amongst the hot sweaty bodies when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

you turn to find a tall, burly man looking down at you.

“my friend wants to buy you a drink” he says without introduction, pointing up to the vip section where you honestly can’t see anything through a wall of bodyguards.

“okay” you say, smiling. “he can buy me a drink”

there’s an unspoken statement from his end. he wants you to come up

“how old is he?” you ask more out of curiosity than anything else. there’s no way you’re going with him. “and how tall?”

the bodyguard is obviously taken aback. “uh, he’s 25, and…6 feet?”

“6’2 and above only, sorry” you say, giggling as you walk away to your friends who are waiting at the bar.

before long, you find yourself on the dance floor again, pressed up against someone with your back to their front, swaying to the rhythm of the music. You don't even know what they look like, but their body feels strong, solid. when their fingers graze your hips, you flip around, curiosity getting the better of you.

to your credit, your face doesn’t give away the fact that you know this person. that you’re probably one of his biggest fans in the world. that you watch even the most boring of psg games just for him. or that you want him at your club so so badly. no, you’re smart enough to arrange your face into a facade of nonchalance.

the first thing you notice is the smell of dior sauvage, and then the pretty dimples he flashes you when he sees you’re facing him.

“your dimples are pretty” you shout over the loud music. oops. looks like you’re in the ‘speaking without a filter’ stage of being drunk.

“thanks” he says into your ear. “why did you say no to vip? i was hoping you’d come up”

realization hits. oh.

“you’re not 6 feet tall!” you shriek gleefully, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “your bodyguard lied”

"yeah, I'm 5'10" he’s got a look of amused confusion on his face. “not sure why that matters though”

“that’s kind of short for a guy” you say. “you chose the right sport”

he raises his eyebrows, perhaps surprised you recognize him. “let me buy you that drink. and maybe we can talk about something other than my height?”

and so it begins. you spend the next thirty minutes at the bar pretending you both don’t know where this is leading and what you both want. you talk about madrid, how your time in paris is going. you don’t mention your employer, and he doesn’t talk about his impending transfer. he’s surprisingly witty and observant, something you don’t expect from a celebrity, and certainly not a footballer. at one point in the conversation, his hand lands on your thigh and it doesn’t leave. you’re drowning in anticipation, in want.

finally, he suggests you take this somewhere else. somewhere quiet, where you can 'talk more'.

you say yes. soon you’ve said your goodbyes to your friends and you’re in his car, and you don’t even know where you’re going, because you've both dropped all pretenses and are making out in the backseat. he's great at kissing, and even better at making you forget your name as soon as he touches you.

you hesitate for a brief second when you see you’ve arrived at a hotel a few minutes later, but his hand is warm on yours, so you let him lead you inside. everything after this is a blur— you remember the short elevator ride, his room key flashing, his lips immediately finding yours again as soon as the door clicks shut.

inside the room, your kisses grow heated, but they’re sloppy and unfocused. his hands are everywhere, sliding all over your body frantically. you both stumble over to the bed hazily, clothes disappearing off your bodies in the process.

it’s fast. so fast that you don’t realize it’s began until it’s over. afterwards, he collapses against you in a breathless heap, and you can only stare at the ceiling, trying to fend off the crushing weight of disappointment.

you roll him off your body slowly, but he doesn’t protest because he’s already dozed off. the alcohol has dulled your thoughts and your senses, but you can’t shake the creeping sense of hurt. somehow, sleep takes over you as well.

you stir awake a few hours later. the other side of the bed is empty, but you can hear movement from the bathroom. you're rubbing your eyes, groggy, when something catches your attention —his phone, which sits on the bed side table, is unlocked and displaying a text conversation.

don't do it, you think, do NOT do it.

but your hand treacherously reaches out and grabs the phone. you find that it’s a group chat of him and his friends. you skim over the texts quickly, aware that he's just in the other room.

tchaga: Kylian where tf are you???

kylian: with that girl from the club

ous: bro we stopped by your place you weren’t there

kylian: you know I don’t take groupies to my place what if she’s like in love with me

ous: 😭😭

tchaga: was it worth ditching your friends

kylian: I don’t remember a lot tbh. sucks, because I had to pretend I wanted to talk to her for like 30 minutes before we got to the hotel🙄

kylian: think I’ll head out before she wakes up and it gets awkward haha

your stomach immediately starts to churn with a mixture of humiliation and hurt. you're not an idiot, you knew what you signing up for when you left that club with him. a fun, meaningless hookup was what you wanted. but you didn't think it would be this. you're nauseous with disgust— not just at him, but at yourself. he brought you to a hotel, took what he wanted, and now he's laughing about it with his boys. you feel cheap, like he used and discarded you.

the worst part is, you used to like the guy. you were a huge fan of him as a footballer, and maybe even harbored a little crush on him. now you don't even want to see his face ever again.

you put the phone down quickly when you hear the bathroom door creak open, closing your eyes and pretending to sleep. you can hear him as he quietly moves around while he gets dressed. seconds later, you hear the click of the door shutting behind him.

just like that, he's gone.

you're not far behind him, eager to leave the room and the night behind. as you're gathering your things, you spot his watch on the bedside table. in a flash of anger, you stuff it in your purse along with your belongings. you also see he’s left a note, but you throw that into the trash without reading it. then you're out the door.

so, that's the story of how you come to hate kylian mbappe: in one careless, thoughtless night, he crushed the fragile self esteem you managed to rebuild over the past couple months, leaving you feeling smaller than ever. like you're worthless.

and now he's living in the same city as you, playing for the same club you work for. he's got everyone wrapped around his finger, worshipping the ground he walks on. and you? you'll never not despise him, that's for sure. come hell or high water.

taglist: @kyliansonlygf @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @loonworld @ajsboys

#kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian imagines #kylian fanfic #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappé imagine #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappé smut

187 notes · View notes