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n3on-graveston3s-calling · 5 months

Text

The Hat Rule.

Characters: Portgas D. Ace, Buggy the Clown, Dracule Mihawk, Trafalgar Law [ uses they/them ], X-Drake / Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2,422

Rating: Mature

Warnings: None

Author's Notes: I'm a sucker for the Hat Rule, sue me. Nothing but some subtle spice. Enjoy!

You would be lying if you said it hadn’t been thrilling to sneak up behind them and pluck the hat off their head. They were so attached to it, it was funny! Of course, sentimentality was one thing- but really, the way they had paused, reaching up to touch their head as if confused at the sudden loss had been far too comical for you to even consider not laughing at. But the moment they had turned, had called out your name-

You ran.

You had sprinted across the dock back towards safety, hat clutched in your hand as they followed after you. But you were faster- always had been quicker on your feet. You scurried up the gangplank, avoiding collisions with your fellow shipmates as you made your way below deck to your quarters. You thought you were safe, you really had! Taking a minute to catch your breath, you settled the hat atop your own head with a grin.

Success!

That is, until the door opened. You turned, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the owner of said hat, leaning against the door with an expression that lingered between amused and… Something else. Something darker. You suddenly realized you had cornered yourself in your haste to escape- and now, you had nowhere to run.

──Portgas D. Ace [ 353 ]

Your heart hammered in your chest as Ace chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as you leaned back against the opposite wall. “You had your fun,” he spoke softly, holding a hand out to you. “Now gimme my hat back.”

“No.” You replied defiantly, instead putting the hat on your own head. You turned, studying your reflection in the mirror on the wall, tilting your head to and fro as a smile curved your lips. “I think it looks better on me, really,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“There’s a rule ‘bout wearin’ someone else’s hat, y/n.” Ace sighed, stepping in, closing the door behind himself- and locking it, something that had your breath faltering. A rule? What was he talking about? It was just a hat! Even so, he crossed the room with a few strides, settling behind you. His hands smoothed across your hips, his head dipping down to press chaste kisses along your throat. “You wear the hat, you ride the sailor,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, his gaze finding your own in the reflection.

Hunger. That’s what that expression was; his beautiful brown eyes dark in the soft light of the room. Your heart stuttered in its beat as he kept your gaze locked with his own, lips pressing over where your carotid artery lay in your throat. “Oh,” you whispered back, blinking slowly as his hands wandered. Fingers plucked at the edge of your shirt, dragging it up slowly with his fingers as they trailed heated paths across your skin. His Devil Fruit ability- oh, how you loved that.

“Whattya say, y/n?” He asked, biting at your shoulder gently, not enough to cause pain but certainly enough to draw a gasp out of your lips. You nodded mutely, transfixed by your reflections as he grinned wolfishly over your shoulder. “That’s my baby.” A damn near growl as he tugged your back against his front, subtle grinds of his hips giving you a clear image of just how much he wanted you.

You were suddenly glad you decided to steal his silly little hat.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Buggy the Clown [ 464 ]

It had been a celebration. Another successful show, another successful tithe paid from the townsfolk. One of those rare times where your Captain was genuinely happy, laughing with his crew as the bonfire burned brightly on the beach. But you weren’t there- no, you were sitting on the throne in the center ring of the Big Top, orange tricorn settled atop your head as you waited.

You didn’t have to wait for long.

“Y/n,” Buggy called out as he sauntered in, his gaze settling on your form sitting in his chair, wearing his hat. The sight had his breath faltering, had his mouth suddenly dry. You looked damn good sitting there, almost as good as he did. Your legs kicked up over the arm, your lips curved into a cheeky grin. His hat… His hat on your head.

He approached slowly, the sounds of the celebration fading behind him as he reached the throne. “Look at you! All comfortable in my chair, wearing my hat.” He muttered, one hand grabbing your chin, forcing your head up and back to meet his gaze. The other settled on the top of the throne as he leaned his weight against it, hovering over you.

“Your hat?” You countered with faux confusion. You reached up, touching the tricorn. “I could’ve sworn this was my hat.”

“Brat.” Buggy hissed as you grinned.

You leaned up, sitting upright as your legs shifted down from the arm of the couch. “Yeah? Am I?” You continued to taunt, watching as your lover’s gaze brightened with the game you had decided to play.

“Yaknow, there’s this funny little rule that comes with wearing someone else’s hat.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip. You leaned into the touch, gaze flickering down to his painted smile.

“What is it?” You breathed as he shifted closer. When you’d stolen his hat, you’d let his hair down. Aquamarine tresses spilled over his shoulders, falling forward to cloak you, giving an odd form of privacy as his lips ghosted against your own.

“Wear the hat, ride the Captain.” Buggy murmured as he captured your lips in a kiss. Paint smeared against your skin as you reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair, drawing out a pleased hum from him as he pressed closer.

You pulled back with a nip to his lip, watching the way he crumbled beneath you so easily. “Ride the Captain, eh?” The thought set a fire in you. You rose to your feet, swapping places with a hand against his chest, shoving him down into his throne. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck you here.”

“Shit,” he chuckled, hands settling on your waist as you took your place on his lap. “Keep the hat on.”

“Yes, Captain.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Dracule Mihawk [ 516 ]

You felt like royalty as you ran through the halls of the castle. Perhaps it was the romance novels you’d read over the years, but there was something particularly thrilling about running through corridor after corridor with the tricorn clutched to your chest. You found yourself in the library, chest rising and falling with deep breaths as you turned to face the doors. Any moment now, Dracule would walk in.

It was worth it. Grabbing his tricorn the moment he’d docked at the island, running as fast as your legs could carry you back to the castle. You worried your lip as you looked down at the black leather, fingers brushing against the stitching. After a moment’s hesitation, you raised the hat- and settled it atop your head.

The doors swung open.

“Darling,” Mihawk drawled. Yoru wasn’t on his back; his coat had been discarded, no doubt left by the front entryway. He sighed, taking in the sight of you in the moment. Cheeks flushed, hat perched atop your head; you were bathed in the orange glow of the fireplace. The sun had already set behind you; no light spilled through the large windows.

A piece of art, you were.

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Slow steps drew him closer, even as you took shorter steps backwards- until you stumbled, ending up on your rear on the rug before the fireplace. Mihawk chuckled as he stood over you, arms crossed over his chest.

You found your words at last, grinning up at your lover. “I dunno what you’re talking about.” Cheekily, you leaned back on your elbows as Dracule knelt, reaching out to cup your cheek gently. “All I have is this shirt… And this hat.”

“... That’s all?” His gaze flickered down to your legs- bare, he realized. When had you stripped your trousers? He was certain you had been wearing them when you met him at the dock. “There’s a certain tradition when you wear another’s hat.”

“Tell me about it.” You sighed as his hand smoothed along your calf, gently massaging the muscle. He moved slowly, crawling over your form as his hands left your leg and cheek, balancing his weight over you. He dipped his head, stealing a kiss from you that had your head swimming by the end of it. The ghost of a brush of his tongue against your lip before he parted; you leaned forward, chasing him.

“Wear the hat,” he murmured as he shifted, arm curling around your waist. In a movement too quick to track, he’d rolled you both, settling you on his lap as he settled on the rug. His fingers gripped your thighs, dangerously high to rucking up your- no, that was certainly his- shirt. “Ride the pirate.”

“Oh,” you breathed, mind growing fuzzy with the lust that was beginning to course through your veins. You shift your hips slowly, feeling your lover respond in kind. A groan pulled free of you as your hands settle on his chest, fingers gripping at his shirt. “Oh, I think I like that one.”

“Good.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──Trafalgar Law [ 450 ]

It was hard to hide in a submarine. This was your first- no, second- mistake. Taking your Captain’s hat was the first mistake. Hiding in the submarine was the second. And the third? Deciding to add insult to injury by hiding in their own quarters. Was it the brightest of ideas? No. But Shachi wasn’t going to let you get out of the bet without consequences, and like hell you were going to cough up five hundred berries.

So, you stole Law’s hat. And then had run for your damn life.

You could hear the heavy footsteps of their boots as they approached. You panicked- and tugged the white hat on as the door opened, revealing the frustrated face of Law. They paused, brow furrowing at the sight of you standing in the middle of their quarters. “The boiler room would have been a better hiding place,” they taunted sarcastically, closing the door behind themself before leaning back against it.

“I uh, I panicked?” You shrugged, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You reached up, patting the hat on your head. “I get why you wear it. ‘S comfy.”

“It looks good on you.” They admitted softly, pushing off the door to cross the room, settling before you. Their hand raised, brushing a strand of hair back behind your ear. “Almost as good as it looks on me,” they finished, lips curving into that signature cocky grin that had you stomach twisting.

You reached out, settling your hands on their chest, “There’s this lil’ thing,” words barely above a whisper; they had to focus on you to really hear. “This lil’ rule I remember learnin’ about.”

“And what would that be?” They asked just as softly, hands settling on your hips, drawing you closer, pressing your form against their own. Their hands squeezed slowly, the pressure enough to draw a pleased sigh from you.

You leaned in, lips brushing against their ear. “If I wear my Captain’s hat- I have to ride them.” A nip against the shell of their ear had a shudder dancing across them. You could have sworn a soft ‘fuck’ had slipped free from them. “Is that right?”

They pulled back, hand coming up to grip your jaw. A mischievous light had settled in their gaze as they studied you. You weren’t sorry; not a single speck of sympathy lingered in your expression, in your words, in your teasing. “You are, y/n-ya.” They rasped as they leaned in, stealing a kiss. Their teeth grazed your lip as they guided you backwards, until the back of your knees hit the bed. You sank slowly, but they didn’t part- not until you pulled back, panting.

“Captain-”

“Keep it on.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

──X Drake [ 399 ]

You had managed to stumble into your quarters on the Liberal Hind, only to realize that oh- well, shit. That’s a mistake. You curse yourself softly as you try to figure out how to get out of this mess. It had been a silly idea. You hadn’t seen your Captain laugh in a while- and thought that hey, stealing the hat would be funny!

Apparently not, given the yell that had come from him as you sprinted away.

Your heart skipped more than one beat as the door to your quarters swung open, revealing the tall form of your Captain, X-Drake. You swallowed roughly around nothing as he studied you, brow furrowed. He ran a hand through his hair with a huff, stepping in and closing the door behind himself.

Slowly, you raised the hat- and placed it on your own head.

Worth it, you thought to yourself as your lover’s eyes widened in shock as he turned around once more. “Missing something?” You teased, arms crossing over your chest as he studied you.

“That’s my hat.” He stated simply, taking a step forward. “Why did you take it?”

“Maybe I want it.” You shrugged, watching the way his eye twitched at the blatant insubordination you showed. Former Marines, always so strict. You worried your cheek as you glanced away. “I think it looks good, don’t you?”

“It…” He faltered, drawing in a slow breath. “It does look good, yes.” He crossed over to you, reaching out a hand to grasp the hat- only to pause. You were at port. The crew was working on supply runs. Alone on the ship. His hand lowered to tilt your chin up gently, his demeanor shifting as he tilted your head to the left- and then the right. “It suits you well,” he murmured, voice damn near molten gold with the way it poured over you.

You shuddered, gaze rising to meet his own. “What’s that old saying… Wear the hat, ride the Captain?”

His jaw clenched; the hand on your chin flexed. Got him. “You’re nothing but trouble,” he groaned as his hands smoothed down your sides, hooking in the waistband of your trousers, tugging you closer to himself. “You need to be disciplined. Stealing from your captain…”

“Then do it,” you whispered, leaning in to ghost a kiss along his jaw. “After all, I did steal.”

“Turn around.”

“Yes, sir.”

#portgas d ace #buggy the clown #dracule mihawk #trafalgar d water law #x drake #Trafalgar law #one piece x gn reader #portgas d ace x reader #buggy the clown x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #x drake x reader #one piece smut #maybe if y'all like this enough they'll get their own full smuts who knows.......#unholy scripture [ n s f w ]#x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 4 months

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reader everytime someone mentions their birthday in front of the clown:

It doesn't even have to be in front of them. If anyone breathes a word of fast food reader's birthday in the restaurant it's game over for them. A coworker who doesn't know of their pains and wjo somehow manages to get their hands on the birthdays of their fellow employees and decides to be nice by throwing a little party for them - leading FFR to into full blown panic mode.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Balloons. Party games. Cute table clothes. Man, this was a pretty sweet set up. Your coworker had invited you to the break room to for a surprise - but you never expected this. You'd almost feel bad for not bringing a present beforehand - if you had known it was someone's birthday before five minutes sgo. You weren't even sure who's birthday it was. It's been a while since the chart was updated. You look at your fellow coworkers, awaiting their reply. The succubus employees her lower lip, eyes hidden behind her pink shades. The janitor tightens their grip on their broom. The softness in the succubus' voice washes you in a wave of unease

"Y/n.... stay calm... We're here for you."

The pit in your stomach sinks deeper as the janitor speaks next.

"We tried to warn them....."

What are they talking about? Your head whips towards the breakroom door as another presence makes itself known. Seeing your other coworker struggle to get a tray through the door, you head over to asset. Over their shoulder, you read the name spelt out on the cake in their possession.

Your blood turns to ice.

"shit......"

You croak - voice barely a whisper, yet they hear you all the same.

"Y/n, hey - my sister works at this supply store and I wanted to do something special for your big day as a little thank you for assisting me during my training. The others told me you weren't big on celebrating, but I thought I could change your mind. Happy-"

How the fuck do you keep forgetting about this day? The days blend together so easily you can't tell the difference between four days and four months passing. Your body acts on reflect - shoving them into the door as you rip the cart from their hands - tipping it over. You quickly turn your path of destruction on the rest of the room, tearing down poster and shoving the table cloth including everything stop it in the nearest trashcan.

"I'm not letting that clown take me again! You're not taking me this year, you hear me!"

Your coworker wipes frosting off their face. "They really don't like celebrating their birthday, do they?"

The succubus places her hand on their shoulder. "No..... Quick question, how fast can you run? Presents are one thing, but Twisty hates when others throw parties for people - especially if it's Y/n. I'd say you have a few minutes before they get here so you should be fine."

Loud banging comes from the vents.

"...Well, it was nice knowing you."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere blurb #Fast food reader #yandere drabble

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the-kr8tor · 11 days

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Horror/slasher movie actor hobie x actor reader whose the protagonist of the story 💳💳💳💥💥💥

Silly actors that meet for the first time and falls in love on a silly horror movie set

ACTOR AU!!! LET'S GOOOO!!!! (Thank you for requesting ly bestie ❤️❤️❤️)

Pairing: Actor! Hobie Brown x Actress! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, fem! Reader, no specific physical description of the reader, R is mentioned wearing make-up, Actor AU, Fame AU, CW food mentions, Pretend blood, pretend violence, Pretend death, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You run on the soft soil, sweat dripping off your brows. Your trainers sink under the earth with every step. The wet squelch behind you tells you to run faster, but your curiosity gets the best of you. With a quick look behind your shoulder, you instantly regret it as the tall masked man has gotten closer to you with his long strides.

He walks the same path you've taken like he's on a stroll in the park. His leather punk jacket and clown mask is drenched in warm blood— the blood of your fellow camp counselors, the blood of your dearly departed friends. Even with his casual movements, his entire demeanor sends a shiver down your spine. Heavy footfalls and a bloodied knife makes you run faster than your own feet could take you.

With the moonlight as your guide, the fog blanketing the dense woods, lungs burning, you trip on nothing.

“Fuck!” You shield your chin with your hand to avoid the hard impact. Hands braced, eyes closed, your face meets the moist forest floor. Dirt in your fingernails, grass in your hair, a warm hand flips you around by your shoulder and you scream loudly. The sound echoes around the dark woods, eyes wide, the killer raises his sharp knife to plunge it in your heart.

Your eyes meet the killer's eyes behind the mesh of the mask, gorgeous mismatched eyes greets your own. To your surprise, he winks and your terrified scream falters in your throat. Eyebrows knitted, hands on the villain's broad shoulders, he stabs you in between your ribcage.

“No!” Cold blood splatters out as you try to wrench away the mask from your murderer's face. With your last breath, tears in your fear filled eyes, his name falls out of your lips without a second thought. “Hobie?”

Hobie tilts his head with a playful smile, sticky blood smeared on his chiseled cheek, blue and hazel eyes staring at you fondly.

“Cut!” The director yells, and you audibly groan at your mistake. A bell rings, spotlights suddenly click open, the lights almost make you blind. The crew murmurs around as the director puts his hands on his hips. “The character’s name, darling! Not his real name,” he kneads at his temples. “Everyone take ten!” With one last frustrated groan, he walks away, entering his tent with a stomp and grumbling about changing the villain's name.

“I fucked up, didn't I?” You ask, still under your favourite co-star. “I'm sorry.” Frowning, you ready yourself for a berating.

Instead of a glare and a passive aggressive comment, Hobie wipes your cheek free of muck with his warm thumb. Eyes staring softly, his touch lingers.

“There, I just did the makeup department a favour. Not like you need it anyway.” He flashes his signature smirk, the same smirk that has people falling over themselves just to get a glimpse.

Your heart pounds loudly as he gets back on his feet, leather squeaking, he reaches down to help you up. Taking his hand, he lifts you up effortlessly, not even breaking a sweat or straining his muscles.

“Thank you.” You say fondly. The numerous spotlights above make your heart-shaped eyes sparkle.

“No problem. And you didn't fuck up, it happens to the best of us, yeah?” He pats your shoulder, and you think all the friendly late night talks in your trailer are just that, friendly. “You were doin' good, the best fuckin' scream ever. Thought my eardrums were about to burst.”

“Thank you.”

“Stop sayin’ thanks, I was just statin’ a fact, love.”

You hide your flustered face with a nod, cheeks hot. You make your way towards the wardrobe tent to get changed for the next scene where your character resurrects to help the remaining survivors. You've seen better scripts but money is money.

“Thank—” you correct yourself, chuckling as he follows you. Walking side by side, his hand brushes over your own. Hobie smiles, eyes trained where you're walking in case you unintentionally decide to method act and fall flat on your face. “You did great too, you were really scary.”

He snorts, the sound that fills you with endearment. “With this face?” Pointing at his chin, you laugh.

“I guess that's why they made you wear that god awful mask, no one would run away from you.” You push him playfully with your shoulder. “They'd run towards you instead.”

Hobie ignores all the crew scrambling around on set and the numerous cameras pointed at your back. He imagines that you're strolling at a park after a nice dinner where he bravely held your hand underneath the table.

Maybe it shouldn't remain in his mind, maybe he should just ask you, and maybe you'll say yes.

It's long overdue anyway, after two horror movies together and one comedy special, he thinks it's time to try to star in a romcom. Preferably with you.

Stopping in front of the tent, you look at him. “This is me, unless you need to change too—?” Hobie gingerly reaches for your cool hand, index finger lacing around your pinky carefully like he's able to snap it in half. “Y-yes?” You can hear your pulse quickening, you fear that your hand is sweaty and that his finger would slip away from the moist.

“Have dinner with me? A proper one where we don't eat take out in your trailer.” Hobie fakes a cough that's Oscar worthy to hide his nerves. “If you're not busy.” If you want to, he wanted to add, but he wants to remain suave in front of you. He'll save all his hidden awkwardness during the date. If you graciously accept anyway.

Your smile is brighter than the spotlights above. “I have to wear my best disguise then. Y’know, so we don't end up in a gossip mag in the morning.” Pinky lacing around his finger, you stand closer to him, toe to toe, smiles mirroring each other.

“Let me guess, it's a baseball cap with sunglasses innit?”

You giggle, “yep.”

“Leave it at home, you're not gonna need it.” His heart skips a beat at the realization of your closeness. Hobie now knows why you're the lead in most projects you're in.

Eyebrows knitted together, you tilt your head, eyelashes fluttering in the breeze. “Why?”

“The paps don't know where I live.”

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years

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Is there any chance we could have a round up of the Circus? I am so lost on how the dominoes fell over the last 40 days

Okay this is not comprehensive, because (a) my husband the politics nerd is currently on his way to a gig in west Wales somewhere and so cannot chime in and also (b) all our political journalist friends are understandably quite busy right now doing political journaling, but I seem to have an influx of new followers who are also very confused and don't understand what's going on, so I shall try.

Alright so what we're seeing here is the Second Clownfall of 2022, the hotly anticipated sequel to the Adventures of Big Dog the Clown. However it revolves around the character of Liz Truss, and will use some terminology, so

Previous Reading

Important Terminology - Required Reading

What is a Whip?

How do Whips work?

Shadow Cabinet

Front Benchers, Back Benchers and the Cabinet

What do we need to call an early General Election?

The Adventures of Big Dog the Clown - Suggested Reading

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Elanor's Guide to Liz Truss - Suggested Reading

Character-based prequel

...okay I think that's everything. On with the show!

The Premiership of Liz Truss (2022-2022)

Week One

We begin our tale on September 5th, 2022. Coincidentally, that was also the date that I personally started my new job. Let's see which of us does better!

The Daily Mail is delighted, and runs a headline proclaiming "Cometh the hour, cometh the woman". Tory rag in a frock coat the Financial Times runs an op-ed:

So the results ARE IN! She will definitely fuck us up! But that's a good thing for vague reasons! Blitz spirit everyone. Tally ho, pip pip, shoot a servant and have sex with a wall, hey what. Good old Blighty.

(That's my best impression of Tories I'm good at their accents I hope you like it)

Truss does an interview with Laura Kuenssberg, and fellow guest and comedian Joe Lycett wildly and effusively applauds her every word. Even Liz realises no one would sincerely applaud her. Bafflingly, the entire right wing press and every member of the Tory party freak out about this, because they don't understand the function of a satirist and don't know how to defend against it. It is extremely funny. Joe Lycett announces he's a right-wing comedian now, and begins a new extended career bit effusively and sarcastically praising right wing politicians. They all cry extensively and call him mean.

SO, it's been a long hard leadership campaign! But she made it. For years, Tories have been blighted by the curse of the PM/Chancellor relationship, backstabbing and cheating and lying about each other to try and get power. But not our Liz, oh no; her Chancellor is Maths Mate and BFF Kwasi Kwarteng, an insipid and poisonous gnome known for three (3) things:

He once wrote a stupid book with Liz Truss about his stupid opinions on how he thinks economics work and everyone laughed at him and stuffed him in a locker

On the night of the Brexit vote he was overheard by a journalist gleefully saying “Who cares if sterling crashes? It will come back up again“ which are of course the words of a man who knows all about economics and how they work

This fucking bullshit back in July:

But hey IT'S OKAY! Everything is fine! Because Liz and Kwasi are BFFs who certainly never had an affair and are marching in lockstep and have each other's backs and both love maths more than their own children if they had any! Maths Friends!

Multiple resignations immediately follow.

Among them is Ben Elliot, the Tory Party chair, which is a pretty big deal from a man who just lived through the Johnson years; also, shockingly, Priti Patel, the deportation-happy Home Secretary, decides that even as an animatronic goblin she cannot support this nonsense.

It's not a resignation per se, but at ten to seven in the evening it's announced that Andrew Bridgen, the Troy MP for Leicestershire North West, has been evicted from his home and ordered to pay £800,000 in legal costs, and a possible £244,000 in rent arrears. Also described as "dishonest" by a judge.

This is not directly relevant to Liz Truss but look, it was a staggeringly weird day and this was basically the topper.

Anyway.

Liz goes to the Palace and is duly sworn in by the Queen, who promptly keels over and dies the very next day. Parliament is instantly shut down for mandatory mourning. As omens go, this one was not subtle.

This triggers the circulation of some very awkward footage of Young Truss talking about how she thinks the Monarchy should be abolished for being a gross relic of horrifying social stratification. However you must understand that it's not awkward because anyone thinks she murdered the Queen. It's because Liz Truss's attempts at public speaking are like sitting through a children's Christmas play when you're the only person in the audience and they can all see your face so you have to look encouraging for four hours when inside you are shrivelling into something approximating an apricot pit travelling to the core of Jupiter.

Take a look at her acceptance speech and wither.

Anyway we're now several MPs and a queen down so she's got to get on replacing those so she can focus on her real love: the much-anticipated mini-budget that she is preparing with Kwasi to save the UK from the harrowing quagmire of crippling poverty that Big Dog managed to drive us into (all while pretending it wasn't Big Dog who did it.)

Fortunately, she does not need to replace the queen! Monarchies take care of themselves, which many people would argue is very much the problem, of course. They had a proper reunion with Meghan From Suits and Meghan From Suits' husband, both of whom were banned from visiting Balmoral, and also the Nonce flew in, who was allowed to visit Balmoral. Such heartwarming scenes.

But the Cabinet, that's another matter. That's something Liz DOES have to do, and it's important she gets it right, Tumblrs, because you see, every time a Cabinet minister is replaced it's expensive and a hassle and it weakens a government by making them look all crumbly, like a packet of biscuits that's been rammed against a wall and now someone is opening it and everyone is bracing for Crumbs.

So, step forward to the Cabinet soulless ghoul Suella Braverman, the new Home Secretary. She immediately distinguishes herself by trying to legalise torture.

And then, naturally,

YEAH THAT'S RIGHT IT'S TICK TOCK TERF O'CLOCK also FUCK the sovereignty of the Scottish Parliament amirite ladies lol Girl Power uwu

Not that she can actually do anything at this point, of course. As I say: Enforced Mourning is in process, which means Parliament is shut down for ten days. No work, no speeches, no appearances, no announcements, just taxpayer's money going on legal fees to see if she can interfere with another nation's elected government in order to strip away the human rights of queer people.

However, while we all weep over the corpse of Queen Lizzie Two and beat our breasts in grief, the already-beleaguered pound is slowly bleeding out through this inaction. And this, to the Maths Mates, is unacceptable.

Two things get quietly slid into the news cycle.

Thing the First:

BIG YIKES LADS

Thing the Second:

Fracking ban in England lifted in bid to boost UK gas supply - BBC News

For those who don't know, fracking is an energy extraction process. Water, gas and dust are pumped at high pressure into shale bedrock to crack it open, releasing pockets of natural gas that can then be harvested for fuel. It's environmentally disastrous for multiple reasons, both direct (earthquakes, groundwater pollution, social impacts) and indirect (IT'S STILL A FOSSIL FUEL YOU STUPID CUNTS ARE YOUR SKULLS FUCKING EMPTY). The Welsh and Scottish governments have both banned it outright, a straight-up "Foot down no, petal". England, though, is the Tory paradise, so the ban was less complete.

However, this is still a Huge Deal - the 2019 Tory manifesto was very clear that fracking would only be unbanned IF "the science shows categorically that it can be done safely". In fact, most Tories don't like it either. Their constituents REALLY don't. Also in March Kwasi Kwarteng literally went on record and said it wouldn't lower European gas prices anyway; but not anymore! Now he thinks it's a zippy idea. Just spiffing. Top hole, pip pip (I'm so good at their accents :))

Scientists who have been studying the environmental impacts of fracking produce their report -

And it is quietly buried, so as not to offend the corpse of Lizzie Two.

Here ends the first four days of the Reign of Liz Truss.

Second Week

Anyway, royalists have gone insane and started a REALLY BIG queue to see a box that supposedly contains the rotting cadaver of the old queen. Multiple people have to be hospitalised because they join the Queue and don't take food, water, warm clothes, or essential daily medications with them, even though the Queue is literally days long. Some die. Many take the ashes of their own loved ones so they can wave them at the box for the thirty seconds they get to be in front of it, like a sort of play date for ashes.

Prince Charles, now King Prince Charles, starts swanning about as King, demanding everyone be sad for him and clap him to cheer him up. Someone holds up a sign saying 'Not my King' and gets arrested. This triggers a whole wave of protests and arrests as free speech slides out the window, until the Met Police chief has to step in and explain to the police like they're five-year-olds that they can't do that, actually, and need to cut that shit out.

But we can't wholly blame the police, because the main pressure to clamp down on protestors actually came from...

The government.

Meanwhile the country goes bat shit fucking insane. In order not to offend the fragile sensibilities of royalists, now so brittle they need to be treated with the same delicate touch normally reserved for unstable nitroglycerin, the UK sees supermarkets lowering the volume of self-serve checkout desks, people's funerals cancelled, vital operations and other medical interventions postponed, Centre Parcs cancelling holidays, FOOD BANKS CLOSING, Nintendo Direct cancelling its live stream in Britain (but not cancelling the release of the recording onto You Tube an hour later because as we all know Queen Elizabeth II was a MASSIVE livestream fan and would have been DEVASTATED to miss it but she was very 'meh' about YouTube), cycle racks being closed, and this unhinged shrieking harridan:

Very normal, lads. Very normal.

Oh and also they cancelled Owain Glyndwr Day so as a Welsh person I am now legally allowed to forcibly ram a daffodil into the urethras of the landed English gentry.

However, the protests grow as the suppression wanes. By the time King Prince Charles comes to Wales, he is met with silent protests, this guy who learned a sentence in Welsh specially for the occasion, and a petition to abolish the Prince of Wales title.

Except government is still shut down, so the petitions are all suspended.

But not to worry! That gives the Maths Mates more time to work on their special mini-budget.

Week Three

More of the same at first, really, but she finally addresses the nation to announce that the Queen was the "rock" on which "modern Britain was built".

Also someone finally spots that the necklace she always wears is a day collar, so that was fun.

BUT THEN

The moment we have all been waiting for, with baited breath.

On the 23rd September, 2022, the mini-budget finally arrives. The golden egg of Kwasi and Liz, their beloved, beautiful child, the crowning glory, the culmination of their economic beliefs and values. They are so proud of it, so sure of it, that they do not even submit it for the approval of the Office for Budget Responsibility. Why should they? This is the moment Kwarteng can finally show the world that he was right; that this is the way to do economics after all; that he alone in his brilliance and genius has reinvented the field and will lead the country to a new era of riches and prosperity.

And the pound does this:

Yikes.

Truss goes into hiding for a day and a half, during which time her aids claim all her relatives have died so she won't have to speak to the press, which is obviously a simply fantastic quality in a Prime Minister. Finally, she resurfaces by doing a series of radio interviews for regional stations around the UK, hoping they'll be easier on her, starting with Radio Leeds. The good journalists of Yorkshire eviscerate her and strew her corpse through Adel Woods. It's downhill from there.

Week Four

One poll puts Labour 33 points ahead of the Tories.

It can be a little difficult to translate polls, because the electoral system is complex, so I asked my journalist friends. They cheerfully informed me that, if translated into a General Election, the Tories would have just 3 seats left.

Except! Of course, naturally, that is me reporting naught but the most extreme result, Tumblrs, dancing upon the bones of my enemies as I chant the rites to make the Tory party die faster. If I were to be fair about this - and I am, of course, a journalist of Integrity and Morals - I would actually give the average poll result. And I am wise and fair to all, ancient rites aside, so I shall.

The average poll result is still 19 points ahead.

Tony Blair's landslide Labour victory in 1999 was 12 points.

Rounding off the day, Labour declare that they are backing a change to a proportional representation voting system in place of the UK’s archaic first past the post system. Funny that.

Anyway, that mini-budget is going poorly. Realising unlimited borrowing rather than tax cuts for the rich is maybe Bad Actually, the Maths Mates decide to get the money for their bail-outs some other way. Can you guess, Tumblrs? Can you guess where they decide to get the money from?

Naturally.

Week Five

In a fascinating little twist, the papers claim Liz banned King Prince Charles from going to the Climate Summit in Egypt. This is interesting for about a billion reasons, not least of which is that the papers seem very angry about this and yet also that it's an unsubstantiated rumour - the phrase "it's understood that _" gets a hell of a workout.

She then does not go herself. Makes sense. They'll probably be mean to her about the fracking.

She then loses the support of the Daily Mail, a paper that five weeks before were ecstatic about her rise to power :( so sad. But why? What made them change their minds?

Well. What else from Truss, but a massive and catastrophic u-turn on the economy?

And she does! The absolute nutter!

Plans to cut the 45p tax rate for those earning upwards of £150,000 were abandoned, as were:

abolishing the planned rise in corporation tax

cutting the basic rate of income tax

the two-year energy bill support plan

scrapping the planned dividend tax hike

VAT-free shopping for international tourists

freezing alcohol duty

easing of IR25 rules for the self-employed

ALL GONE! All gone. The mini-budget is not working so lol jk we'll think of something else, that's how government works, right? The pound promptly implodes further. Of all people, Nadine Dorries is the one to criticise

WE ARE IN A TOPSY TURVEY UPSIDE DOWN WORLD

The Daily Mail still finds a way to say it's all Michael Gove's fault, though.

Anyway, the 5th October dawns bright and beautiful and YouGov polls rural voters:

THIS IS HUUUUUUUUUGE, because farmers just will not fucking stop voting Tory, AND YET. Wowsers. Not just popularity. Voting intention. She might as well have personally infected every farm in the South Downs with foot and mouth disease.

Truss realises her popularity is plummeting and she needs a new audience. She tries to appear down with the kids and declares that she's the only PM to have gone to a comprehensive school.

This is not true. Gordon Brown and Theresa May both did. However, it's certainly true that all three of them became PM by ousting a sitting PM, so there's that I guess.

Week Six

At this point I can start putting in PRECISE DATEs just call ME Robert Peston.

13th October

News reporters start speculating that she'll be done by the end of the month as the first rumoured letter of no confidence reaches us. People realise that her competition for shortest serving PM was a guy who died in office of TB at about the four month mark RIP king sorry about your lungs.

(A reminder - normally, if MPs want to oust a party leader, they must send in 54 letters of no confidence. This makes the 1922 Committee - a bunch of back benchers who preside over this shit - hold a vote of no confidence. A leader who loses gives way - this is very rare. A leader who wins is then immune to another such vote for 12 months, but they almost always crumble within a month or two anyway - this is much more common.)

This is extremely funny, because a newly-elected leader of the party has a 12 month immunity to votes of no confidence, same as people who've won such a vote. Likes charge reblogs cast apparently. MPs are getting desperate.

Pressure mounts. Chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng announces that he is "Not going anywhere."

14th October

Chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng is sacked and blamed for the entire economic mess.

Incredibly, Liz does this without first planning a replacement, so it's several hours before Jeremy Cunt suddenly reappears like the spectre at the fucking feast.

Meanwhile here's Ed Milliband on Twitter

Seven and a half years he waited to retweet that. Seven and a half long years, look, to have the last laugh.

In the end, he still went too soon.

15th October

Deputy PM and also Health Minister Therese Coffey (side note - have they always doubled up in roles like that? Or are there just not enough of them anymore?) announces that she loves antibiotic resistance and dead kids and also breaking laws:

16th October

The Sunday Times calls for Extremely Corrupt Former Grand Vizier Rishi Sunak to take over, and then a General Election so that Labour can take the reins.

The SUNDAY TIMES

Calling for LABOUR

The Sunday Mail tries to stir up support for Ben Wallace taking over, because no one has heard of Ben Wallace so he needs the boost, but then accidentally publish their front page with a different man

In another YouGov poll for the Times, not a single political group, age group, area of the country, gender, or other demographic said that Liz Truss was the right choice for PM

This is the new predicted election graph:

Yikes

17th October

The projected election results are a Labour victory so complete the opposition would be the SNP. Legend suggests Nicola Sturgeon's cackle on finding out was so powerful she accidentally resurrected a witchfinder.

18th October

Meanwhile in the Senedd, Welsh Tory leader Andrew RT Davies, a sort of humanoid boil dressed in ham, tries to accuse placid and gentle First Minister for Wales Mark Drakeford's Labour of being responsible for long ambulance waiting times.

T'was a mistake.

youtube

19th October

Oh boy.

Well, first of all, Suella Braverman sends an official email from her private email address, and then promptly leaves the Cabinet at cannonball speeds as though she's seen a brown child about to be given citizenship. Was she quietly fired by Jeremy Cunt? Did she do it deliberately to resign? On her way out, she blames the true source of our problems - the Guardian-reading, tofu-eating Wokerati.

Nigella Lawson spends the day tweeting tofu recipes.

Meanwhile, Graham Brady, the Chair of the 1922 Committee, comes to Liz Truss to inform her that he has in fact now received 54 letters of no confidence. Normally, of course, that would be considered enough to trigger a vote in her leadership; but not now.

However, these are unprecedented times. So he changes the threshold - if half of the Tories send him letters, her immunity will be revoked.

But the thing is, Tumblrs, the thing is...

It is all about to kick off in the most spectacular and catastrophic fireworks since Guy Fawkes had a dream.

Because Ed Milliband, once accused of leading the country to chaos and now riding high on the joy of his well-timed Twitter jab of Some Days Ago, wakes this morning and chooses violence.

He has spotted, of course, that no one likes fracking; even the Tories are against it.

He has also spotted that Liz Truss is very stupid.

So he goes into the House of Commons, and he digs a big pit and covers it over with twigs and leaves so it can't be seen, and he bakes a big cake and he places it in the middle of the twigs, and he sets up a net to fall as well and a big stick of ACME dynamite, and he hammers in little signs everywhere saying CAUTION - TRAP, by which I am of course being metaphorical because what he actually does is table a motion to extend the moratorium on fracking. The signs aren't necessary, really. This trap is easy to avoid.

All Liz Truss has to do, you see, is not use a three-line whip on this vote.

The three-line whip, as you'll all recall, is the highest level of coercion. MPs cannot defy a three-line whip. MPs cannot even abstain on a three-line whip. MPs have two choices on a three-line whip: to vote as they're told, or to be removed from the party. You obey or resign. That's all.

For this reason, it's sometimes called a 'confidence vote', as it is effectively a stand-in for one. The vote is not about the issue at hand - this is now a vote of confidence in your leader.

(He's also laid lesser traps. Years back when fracking was first being heavily discussed, Ed was Labour leader and one of the main figures in those discussions. During today, before it all Kicks The Fuck Off, a Tory stands and challenges him on previous statements about fracking, trying to accuse him of hypocrisy.

He was fucking ready for it.)

Graham Brady pops his head back around the door. He's changed his mind - a third of the party is all that's needed now to trigger a vote of no confidence in Liz Truss. And legend says he's only 17 off.

This is presumably the reason for what comes next.

Liz panics. Liz sees she's desperately unpopular. Liz sees that she has to do something to shore up support; and she sees that her important fracking rule, which her party hates her for, is now being challenged by a former Labour leader, and if he wins (which he will) she'll lose all credibility and maybe they'll take her nice office away and tell her she was a Bad Girl.

And so, with the inevitability of gravity on the now-leaden pound sterling, she makes it a three-line whip, and a confidence vote in her government.

INSTANT CHAOS.

There is uproar! There is rage! There is blinding fury! Tory MPs are standing up in the Commons and snarling and pissing and moaning! No one likes fracking except Jacob Rees Mogg! For TWO HOURS they shriek and scream and gnash their teeth, yelling at Liz Truss, demanding to know why this is happening.

(Legend has it chaos-deity Ed Milliband simply leaned back, put his feet up on the chair in front, and made Christian Wakeford hand-feed him grapes and fan him with a palm leaf, but this is unsubstantiated.)

And then, at 6.55, FIVE MINUTES before voting is ready to begin, the Tory Minister for Climate Graham Stewart stands up and declares that everyone should vote how they want because it's not a confidence vote.

Did I say there was chaos before?

Lol. Lmao, even. Rofl, in fact.

Now Tories leap to their feet and basically all scream one long, unending breath of WHAT-DO-YOU-MEAN-IT'S-NOT-A-CONFIDENCE-VOTE-WHAT-THE-FUCK-IS-HAPPENING-IS-IT-OR-IS-IT-NOT-A-CONFIDENCE-VOTE and so Stewart gets up again and says, right to everyone's faces, "It's not for me to say whether it's a confidence vote or not," which is an even faster and more spectacular u-turn than Truss herself could pull off given that he literally just said it wasn't and did so while being a minister.

And then the voting starts. MPs are now milling about like chickens who've sighted the hawk, clamouring to know if they're going to lose their jobs unless they vote for Satan. The Whips - specifically Chief Whip Wendy Morton and Deputy Chief Whip Craig Whittaker - descend upon them like fucking wargs on the hunt. They don't just spit vitriol and blackmail into MPs ears. They fucking bodily drag people into the right voting lobby. MPs are legitimately screaming. Grown men are crying literal tears. Labour's Chris Bryant reports holding multiple Tory MPs as they sob into his shoulder. Multiple MPs report similar scenes.

And Tories still don't know if this is even a damn confidence vote, or if they should just knock the Chief Whip's teeth out.

And then the Whips, filled with bloodlust and frenzy, suddenly realise that NO ONE IS LISTENING TO US, YOU'RE ALL SUPPOSED TO LISTEN TO US SO WE FEEL POWERFUL -

Cue sudden meeting in a locked room with Liz Truss. For over HALF AN HOUR.

So is it a confidence vote? No one is sure. Deputy PM Therese Coffey thinks so, so in the absence of the Whips she decides physical assault is her job now and is seen by David Linden MP (SNP) physically carrying someone into the voting lobby. Jacob Rees Mogg thinks not and starts yelling "It's not a confidence vote!", to which his colleagues reply, "Fuck off." Meanwhile the Whips have possibly resigned, no one is sure. It is still uncertain if this was a confidence vote.

And Ed Milliband basks in the chaos, playing the fiddle while it all burns around him.

Finally, voting concludes. The Whips reappear to lurk.

The votes are in - the government wins, and fracking will go ahead. But.

32 MPs abstained.

And one of those is Liz Truss.

Which is WILD??!? What possible benefit could she get from that??? No one knows. Everything is uproar again. Guess who else abstained? Well, riveted reader, here's a list with important names highlighted:

Nigel Adams, Gareth Bacon, Siobhan Baillie, Greg Clark, Sir Geoffrey Cox, Tracey Crouch, David Davis, Dame Caroline Dinenage, Nadine Dorries, Philip Dunne, Mark Fletcher, Vicky Ford, Paul Holmes, Alister Jack, Boris Johnson, Gillian Keegan, Kwasi Kwarteng, Robert Largan, Pauline Latham, Mark Logan, Theresa May, Priti Patel, Mark Pawsey, Angela Richardson, Andrew Rosindell, Bob Seely, Alok Sharma, Chris Skidmore, Henry Smith, Ben Wallace, Sir John Whittingdale, and William Wragg.

Kwasi still smarting about that p45, I see.

In any case it then turns out that Liz DID vote, but incompetently, because her voting card didn't read properly, which is actually fair given that she was being screamed at by angry Whips waving Graham Stewart's severed dick and balls around while they demanded power and authority. While she's clearing that up, the press are understandably waiting open-mouthed for comment, but don't worry Liz! Your old pal Jacob Rees Mogg is here to fill in for you!

And thus it is that JRM willingly chooses to go on the live news and calmly confirm to the nation that no one knows if it was a confidence vote or not.

Chaos. Chaos again. Unbridled chaos. The Whips are furious. Everyone is furious. The rebels are now in limbo, unsure if they're now out of a job. Tories are weeping, trying to work out if Rees Mogg WANTS to sink the party. Back bencher Charles Walker MP delivers a frank interview to the press absolutely SHIVERING with rage, like the drummer in a Fleetwood Mac concert. Ex-Lib Dem leader Tim Farron, a bland man known only for the time he himself willingly chose to go on the news and calmly explain that he's a homophobe without provocation, tweets that Liz Truss is a Lib Dem sleeper agent they sent in to destroy the Tories, sparking what is likely to be a whole slew of conspiracy theories by next week. No one knows what is going on. They all decide to sleep on it.

The good folks at Wikipedia ultimately decide to make three separate pages for the UK 2022 government crisis, and to label them with the month "to leave room for another by the end of the year."

Ed Milliband skips all the way home, and treats himself to a bacon sandwich.

20th October

Okay, Liz thinks, the morning after. Okay. Last night was bad. But today will be better.

So first... the vote.

Because there's bad news for Tories who like money and good news for people who like liveable planets - there are problems with the vote. For one, the vote counts are being called into question. Are the results reliable?

For another, the Speaker of the House of Commons calls for an investigation into the reports of, um, assault. So will the result stand?

It's so unclear! And so is that ongoing issue of whether or not the damn thing was a confidence vote. Angry whips say YES, JRM says NO, Downing Street refuses to pick up the phone to the BBC, but does send ITV's Robert Peston a text at 1am to say it was definitely a confidence vote and, unrelatedly, the Whips aren't resigning :)

I think we have found the price paid to keep the Whips.

Meanwhile. Let's see what this has done for Liz's leadership stability!

13 letters of no confidence are confirmed submitted by Sky, 5 of which came in overnight. The 1922 Committee reconvenes the coven to discuss matters. Simultaneously, the One Nation Conservatives reconvene their coven to discuss the same. Presumably there is much "Girl what are YOU doing at the Devil's Sacrament?"-ing and "Same cloak, how embarrassing"-ing. MPs are CLAMOURING for her head. It is VICIOUS. It's like cartoon piranhas in a supervillain's lair; which is highly appropriate, because that's exactly what Tory MPs are.

Graham Brady, head jester of the 1922 Committee, demands to see Liz Truss.

He walks into a room with her, and the doors are closed. Half an hour later, he walks back out of the room.

Ten minutes later, she calls a press conference.

45 days after being appointed, Liz Truss breaks the record, and becomes the shortest-serving British Prime Minister.

#politik #the second clownfall of 2022

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horrorwhores-posts · 1 year

Text

Halloween haze

Summary: you lose your boyfriend at a Halloween party and things get a little hazy.

word count: 2,605

warnings: SMUT (minors do not interact), plot before porn, gore, murder, infidelity.

Authors notes: first time ever writing smut so if it bad please let me know 🥹

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. Dressing up, whether it be spooky or sexy, was always fun. This year my boyfriend decided to take me to one of his frat parties to celebrate with booze and music. I waded through the crowd of tightly packed bodies, balancing my drink above my head to keep it from spilling. When I was finally free from the mob of drunk party goers I smoothed down my skirt. Today I was dressed pretty simply, just a black tutu, a white crop top with a bow tie, and clown makeup adoring my face. It was the easiest thing I could muster at the last minute. I made my way back to where I left my boyfriend, before I went to get my drink. The spot where he was sitting on the couch was empty and I scanned the bodies around me to see if I could see him. Slightly tipsy and not minding my step I accidentally bumped into a hard, warm body. My hand gripped onto a white, satiny costume to try and balance myself despite my spinning vision. I craned my neck up the tall figure to see a fellow black and white clown. His costume is a lot more intricate than my own. I finally looked at his face and he smiled down at me with a big smile.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention. But hey, at least we’re matching.” I giggle my last words as I let go of his costume. His smile seemed to widen as he gestured to himself and then back at me, giving me a thumbs up. I drunkenly giggle again before I ask my next question. “Hey have you um- seen my boyfriend? He’s brunette, dressed as the Grim reaper. He was just over there.” I gesture over to where he was sitting on the couch. “But now he’s gone.” I look back at my fellow clown companion with the best puppy eyes I could muster. The clown frowned at my face before shrugging his shoulders and clasping his hands behind his back. I huffed with annoyance. Not at my new friend of course, but at my boyfriend who was notorious for ditching me and showing up out of nowhere an hour later with a plausible excuse. “Well..” I sighed. “Thanks anyway, if you see him tell him to find me, alright?” I looked at the clown expectantly. He placed his palm to his forehead in a salute and marched away. I giggled as we parted ways.

Continuing my hunt for my boyfriend, I found myself on the second floor with the bedrooms, bodies pressed against the walls in feverious making out. My eyes landed on my boyfriend’s room, the door was shut and I could see his red light emanating from under the door. My stomach sank even in my drunken state. I was VERY familiar with that red light, with all the nights I spent under and on top of him. Everything started to spin as I got closer to the door, the cold metal of the knob nipped at my hot skin. With a shuddering breath, I twisted my wrist, cracking the door just a smidge. I could hear faint moaning and the sound of skin slapping skin. I closed my eyes as I leaned towards to crack, praying silently that I was overthinking. With one last shaking breath I willed myself to open my eyes. My world came crashing down as I confirmed it was him. I know that head full of brown mussed hair, those broad shoulders, and that big tattoo on his back. My eyes watered as I fought back the urge to sob, or to wretch, I’m not fully sure. As I backed away from the door my body collided with a familiar body. I craned up and saw the clown from before. He frowned at the crack in the door and finally back at my tear stained face. He gently caressed the side of my face, his thumb wiping my tears away. The surprising act of kindness caused the dam to break behind my eyes. A sob ripped from my chest as I roughly pushed past my new found friend, running to get as far away from the scene as possible.

Before I knew it I found myself in the backyard, on my hands and knees, gagging into the grass. The cry’s that came from me were almost animalistic, as a crowd gathered around me. A body gently kneeled next to my shivering body and wrapped a thick, heavy object around my shoulders. I looked up through wet lashes and saw Trevor. My boyfriend’s best friend. He gave me a look of pity and understanding as he gently rubbed my shoulders in a reassuring manner.

“Come on, leave the girl alone!…” he barked as he picked me up and made his way through the crowd. “Get out of my way!” He pushed us through the crowd and led me away from the wandering eyes. We ended up in a little gazebo surrounded by tall, dense bushes that provided us the isolation we needed. Gently placing me on the bench, he sat next to me and gently rubbed my back. My crying had died down to sniffles, gazing at the ground. Trevor moved his hand away from my back and I heard him shuffle around for a little bit until I heard the unmistakable sound of a lighter click. Before I could fully register there was a cigarette in my line of sight. With quivering hands I grasped into the small stick and brought it to my chapped lips. Inhaling the smoke deeply, I felt the familiar burn at the back of my throat. “How long.” I felt my raw voice croak. I felt Trevor tense next to me and I slowly moved my head to look at him. He sighed and shook his head. “You don’t want to know.” I felt my heartbreak even more and something bubbled in me. Taking a drag, I tried to calm my nerves but I couldn't help the question that came out of my mouth. “Has it been the same bitch?” I asked him, a hint of anger lacing my words. He looked up from his fidgeting hands in surprise and when he made eye contact he knew I was playing. “At first, no. But he’s been consistently seeing this one girl lately.”

“Lately.” I chuckled in disbelief, taking a puff of my cigarette.

“Yeah. A freshman, Cassidy smith. He’s been fucking her for three months now.” He murmured. Something about that sentence stoked the fire in my chest. I took a final hit of my nicotine stick before throwing it down the ground. I stood and pretty much marched back to the house, completely ignoring Trevor’s pleas to come back and not to go in. My chest heaved as I walked through the back door, my rage spiked as I looked around the crowd. I must have looked feral because all the eyes I met had fear laced through them. I stomped towards and up the stairs with a passion. Once again I was face to face with my boyfriend’s bedroom. The same red light was glowing around the border of the door. I debated on pounding and screaming on the wood, or just barging in. Deciding on the latter I gripped the handle and pushed the door open. “You stupid son of a-“ My eyes finally focused on the scene in front of me, and all the rage drained from me. The only emotion I was left with was terror as I slowly backed away from the horrid sight in front of me. My boyfriend, or what was left of him, was laying on the ground. His head resembled ground beef and his body was mutilated, his arms were broken at the elbows and one of his legs was crushed. His stomach was gutted open and his insides were spread out everywhere. Even some of his intestines hug from the ceiling fan. Still backing up, I heard the door shut behind me. I jumped and turned to see my new friend. His black and white Silhouette was covered in blood and his face was emotionless. He stepped towards me and I took an unconscious step back.

“Did you do this?” I asked cautiously. He smiled and opened his hands out in a tada motion. My head was reeling with a lot of different emotions as the clown stood in front of me, his smile faltering as I stayed silent. His eyes lit up and he stuck a finger out towards me, telling me to wait. He turned and fumbled around until he finally turned to me, his hands clasped around something. He knelt down on one knee and opened his hands to reveal his gift. In his large palm sat a severed female finger, with a beautiful pearl ring adoring it. “For me?” I asked in shock, my hand flying to my chest, feeling my heart beat rapidly. He nodded enthusiastically and then finally looked at the gift himself. Scrunching his eyebrows together he tried removing the ring from the finger, but it seemed to be stuck. Anger flashed on his face as he stuck the digit into his mouth and yanked back. That seemed to cause the ring to dislodge and he spit the phalange onto the floor. The pearl band sat in his large hand, sticking my left hand out, he slid it onto my ring finger. Before standing back to his full height he gave my hand a gentle kiss. I felt a blush creep over my face as I shyly hung my head, looking at the ring on my finger.

I felt a large hand softly stroke my cheek, slowly dipping down to my chin, pulling it up to look at the man in front of me. My breath caught in my throat as he bent over to my height. His dark eyes were swirling with emotion, and his long nose lightly tapped against mine. I let out a breathy chuckle and his shoulders shook with a silent laugh. I finally closed the distance between us and pressed my lips to his. They were surprisingly soft as our lips melded together. I felt the man let go of my face and slowly let his hands travel down my sides.

His hands halted on my hips, deeply kneading the skin there. The kiss deepened as I softly whined into his mouth. Our tongues danced as his hands slipped from my hips down to the swell of my ass, roughly grasping it, lifting me to his height. I wrapped my arms around his neck as my legs went around his waist, moaning as he lifted me like I was weightless. He broke the kiss with a smirk as he quickly turned and pressed my body against the cold wall. A shiver wracked up my spine as he pinned me there, his arms braced on either side of my head with his thigh bracing me up, and meeting with my thinly covered core. I needily ground my hips down as I whined. The friction caused my sensitive clit to throb. The clown in front of me watched me with his full attention. His mouth hung open as his hand slowly moved from the wall, sneaking up underneath my top and grabbing onto my bare breast. His thumb swiped over my nipple right as my clit rubbed perfectly against his leg, and my orgasm came to me in waves. The clown muffled the loud moan that escaped me by crashing his lips against mine, continuing to tweak my nipple to help me ride out my high as my hips slowly stopped jerking against him. Breathing heavily, I slumped against the wall as he grabbed my ass, lifting me up yet again. My arms limply supported myself as he turned back around and started walking. After a few steps he came to a halt, and I suddenly felt the sensation of falling.

I landed on something soft and wet. Realizing the clown dropped me on to my boyfriend's blood soaked bed, I felt another wave of want flow straight to my core. I perched myself on my arms as I looked at the black and white clad man in front of me. His smirk grew as he watched my eyes follow his hand down to the very noticeable tent in his outfit. His head was thrown back as he palmed himself over the satin material of his costume. My legs slowly widened for him as my cunt clenched around nothing. He looked back at me with hooded eyes and watched as I slowly slid my panties to the side. I dipped my fingers into a puddle of blood that was next to me; the thick slime coating them. I watched the man in front of me, his eyes locking onto my hand as I slowly led my fingers back to my aching cunt. The cold liquid caused me to close my eyes and hiss in pleasure as I dragged my fingers around my still tender bud. The sound of ripping fabric caught my attention, suddenly looking back at the clown. There was a new hole on his costume and his hard dick poked through. It was red, hard (almost pulsing), long and curved. My mouth watered and he gripped the base and slowly stroked his length. Precum dripped from the tip as he leant over me, slowly dragging his tip through my slit. I fell onto my back as his head nudged my clit, moaning embarrassingly loud. Slowly trailing back down, his tip sat at my entrance. I locked eyes with him and whispered out a breathy “please”, he slowly slipped into me. My eyes rolled back with my mouth hung open, he stilled as he was fully seated inside me. His hand gripped the back of my neck and yanked it up a bit. My eyes fluttered open and he looked back at me, almost as if waiting for the go ahead.

“Fuck me.” I almost commanded the man as a sinister smile broke out across his face. His hands immediately gripped my hips with a bruising strength, and snapped his hips out of me. With the tip barely still inside me, his dick snapped back into me. I yelped as he continued the fast and brutal pounding, the tip of his dick dragging right against that special spot, causing me to see stars. The knot in my stomach continued to tighten as the sound of my wet pussy taking him filled the room. Tears fell out of the corner of my eyes as my mind melted into pleasure. I could feel my knuckles turning white with how hard I was gripping the sticky sheets below me, almost at the brink or my climax. I suddenly felt a tight grip on my throat as my oxygen and blood supply was cut off. The room started spinning as I felt my pussy clench him with a vice grip. My orgasm crashed through my body as my vision blurred and my pulse pumped in my temples. I clawed at his arm as his hips stuttered and I felt him cum inside me. Finally his hand released its grip from my neck and I heaved a breath into my burning lungs. His large figure laid limp over my body and I felt sleep overtake me. As I curled up under his warm body like a blanket, I finally felt protected and at peace.

#art the clown #terrifier 2 #david howard thornton #slashers #terrifier movie #art the clown x reader #art fan fiction #terrifier x reader #terrifier art the clown #terrifier smut #art the clown smut

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discordantwritings · 4 months

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Rock Hard (Rock Band! Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 2. The Vocalist

Prelude // The Vocalist // The Guitarist

Warnings: afab gn!reader, facesitting, PiV sex, slightly subby Buggy, I know the title says cross guild but this part is just Buggy

WC: 2.4k

Summary: You will not fall to the clown’s charms you will not fall to the clown’s charms you will not-

Oh shit you fell for the clown’s charms.

Notes: Finally found an excuse to write facesitting lets goooooo

You were less of a manager to Buggy and more of a babysitter. If you could get away with getting him one of those child backpack leashes you would. Within a week you got the passwords to all his social media so you could stop him from posting dumb shit like “I wish my dick could detach” and “I could fist fight The Rock and win, give me a date and time”. It was exhausting. Hilarious, but exhausting.

It would be worse if he wasn’t so damn charming. Ever time you find yourself getting mad at him he would grovel and bat his frustratingly perfect eyelashes at you and all the anger you have fizzles out. It was a game you played- Buggy tested your limits and then you reigned him in before he could do any lasting damage. You’d get mad, he’d get cute, and then you went back to the beginning.

It would be worse if he didn’t do such good work. Buggy was the only band member you could get to do any sort of press (Crocodile and Mihawk claimed that that was what Buggy was there for, so they didn’t have to talk to the public) so you had to lean on him heavily for public relations. It turned out not to be a problem though because he could charm just about anyone. Even the most cynical of interviewers would be at least softened by Buggy’s crazy stories and silly jokes by the end of their time.

And that’s what you’re watching now at The Cross Guild office. You got this interview on the the interviewers misguided thought that he could run into Crocodile or Mihawk. Jokes on him, you planned this for a day neither of them were in the office. Because of that the interviewer came into the set annoyed, and Buggy shot you a look from where he was sat. You shrug and give him a thumbs up as the cameras begin to roll.

Watching him turn on the charm was mesmerizing. The way he leans in towards the interviewer and smiles, the way he never backs down from a question or accusation, the silly physical gags he manages to weave into a normal conversation, it’s all so impressive. After about an hour the production finally wraps up and Buggy bounds over to you.

“He was an ass.” He whispers to you and you nudge him on the shoulder.

“Can’t you wait a few minutes.” You eye the interviewer who is still in the room.

“Can we just go back to my office and debrief or whatever so I can go home?” Buggy says in almost a whine.

“Yeah, yeah.” You follow behind him through the hallways until you get to his office.

Gaudy is the best word to describe his office, right next to messy and a fire hazard. No piece of furniture is the same color and various rugs and discarded clothes cover the floor. You’re bound to trip over something before you leave but for now you find your way safely to a chair to go over the events of today and what’s on the schedule for tomorrow.

“So we did three interviews today, tomorrow we have a meet and greet and then a radio show. And then-“ You look up to see Buggy on his neon green couch and on his phone. “You’re not listening to me.”

“No I am!” He says, not looking up from his phone.

“Then what’s on the docket tomorrow?”

“… more talking.” He clicks his phone off, knowing he’s been caught.

“Look, seriously I just need five more minutes of your attention and then you can do whatever. You’ve knocked it out of the park today, so I just need to keep that going until this press wave is over.”

Buggy pauses and smiles wide. “I knocked it out of the park?”

You sigh. It was hard giving Buggy any kind of praise, the way it went straight to his head. But you felt bad for the way his fellow band members treated him- like he had no redeeming qualities. “You did good today Buggy.”

He stands up and walks over to you holding out a hand, indicating for you to stand up. Confused but curious you do, and are pulled up close to him. “Now see, if you just kept telling me how good of a job I’ve been doing I’d pay attention all the time.”

You did your best not to react at how close you are to him- keeping your breath even and hoping there was no flush to your cheeks. “But then it would all get to your head and I might have to knock you down a few pegs.”

“I don’t know about you- but that sounds like fun to me.” One of Buggy’s hands skirts over your hip while he gets somehow impossibly closer to you.

“Buggy.” You say sternly, a warning.

“What?” He stops moving, one eyebrow raised.

“I know playing around is fun for you, and you’re not serious, but nothing even close to this can happen.”

“And what is this?” He’s clearly feigning ignorance and you put your hand on his chest and push.

“Nothing.” The word comes out a bit more hurt than you would have liked it to sound. Of course Buggy picks up on it.

“It doesn’t have to be nothing. I know you say I’m not serious but-“ He opens his arms. “I like you.”

“You like a lot of people.” You fire back, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest.

“Maybe that’s true. But c’mon we could have so much fun together.” He steps back closer, your finger digging deeper. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

Embarrassment quickly colors your features as he hits the truth right on the head. Of course you’ve thought about it. The way he looks at you, the charm he has, his voice, the way you quickly counted him as your friend here. You really wondered what that stupid mouth could do but admitting that you fantasized about him? “No.”

“You’re an awful liar.” Buggy calls you out, brushing an errant hair behind your ear. “Now c’mon, I’ll even let you knock me down a few pegs.”

It was an awful idea. The worst idea you’ve even considered. You could tell Buggy no one more time and you know he’d respect your choice. But both of you know your heart isn’t in your reflections. Kissing him, doing anything with him as a bad idea.

So of course you grab him by his shirt collar and pull him in for a kiss. He’s shocked for a second- like he can’t believe all that stuff he said actually worked- but quickly melts into the kiss. His hands find your hips and he pulls you flush to him as he tries to take control. But you’re not going to let him win that easy.

You walk forward, forcing him to take steps back until his legs hit the couch. You finally break away from the kiss, panting and grinning wide. Placing your hand on his chest you lightly push and Buggy gets the message, sitting down and letting you crawl onto his lap. He looks up at you, eyes wide and pupils dilated and you want to ruin him.

You kiss him again, aggressive and greedy as your hands hold onto his shoulders for balance. Buggy’s hands, still at your hips, pull you down so he can grind up into you. You gasp as you feel Buggy’s hardness against you through layers of clothing. Bringing your mouth down you kiss along his neck as he continues to grind up into you, small whines leaving his chest.

You lose yourself for a while, switching between his neck and mouth while you grind against each other like horny teenagers. But it’s not enough and you’re starting to get a bit frustrated.

“Hey Bug.” You bite at his earlobe.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“Wanna be knocked down a peg still?” Your hands travel his chest as he nods furiously. You stand up and Buggy is clearly disappointed but you motion to the floor. “Lay on your back for me?” You ask sweetly, undoing the buttons on your pants.

You barely finish your sentence before he’s eagerly sliding off the couch and onto the ground exactly like you asked. He props himself up by his elbows though to watch you, and you decide to give him a good show. You face him as you unzip your zipper and grab at your waistband but then turn around and bend over slightly as you drag them down over your ass and legs. You can’t see Buggy’s face but you can hear him groan as your pants and panties are taken down in one motion. Turning back you step out of your pants and get on your knees over him, straddling his chest.

“Can I sit on your face?” You ask sweetly, smiling down at him.

Buggy’s pupils are blown out, almost none of that bright sea green remain. He doesn’t say anything, he just grabs your thighs and pulls you up closer to his face. You can’t help but chuckle as you help him out, sitting up on your knees as you position yourself right over him.

“Fuck- I mean- goddamn-“ Buggy curses and you wish you could still see his face. “Please cmon just sit baby-“

Not wanting to wait either you lower yourself and the second you so Buggy dives in. There’s nothing neat or slow or thought out about the way Buggy eats you out but fuck if it isn’t good. His tongue works its way inside you quickly as his hands dig into your thighs. As he haphazardly goes between fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit you have to lean forward and use the couch for balance. You start to get dizzy with pleasure and end up focusing a lot of your energy on staying up and not actually sitting on Buggy, which he seems to notice.

He breaks away from you and you whine but hear his voice. “Just sit on me baby- I’ll be fine please cmon-“

He sounds just as dazed as you and the lust and whine in his voice make you relent, fully relaxing and focusing on the pleasure he was giving you. As his tongue finds your entrance again you grind down, rubbing your clit against his nose. Your moans fills the room as you chase your pleasure and use his face to get yourself off. While one hand stays on the couch to keep you balanced the other goes to Buggy’s head, gripping his hair and tugging.

“‘M close Bug-“ You manage through gasps.

Buggy doesn’t let up- one of his hands comes down to join his tongue inside you, filling you up more while you grind on him. The edges of your vision go white as your orgasm flood over you, slick gushing onto Buggy’s face as you ride it out. When the high is over you slide yourself off of his face and lay down next to him. As you do you see that Buggy’s hand is shoved down his pants and he’s grinding up into his palm.

“Fuck- you been getting off on eating me out?” Your voice is breathy and needy.

“Fucking of course.” He says and you finally get a good look at his face- slick from your juices and completely fucked out. You can’t help but capture his lips in another needy kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. Snaking your own hand down you grab his wrist, gently pulling it out of his pants. He whines but you quickly shush him.

“Need you inside me- now.” You plead and Buggy wastes no time.

He sits up and shoves his pants down while you get on all fours in front of him. He growls when he sees you presented for him like this, one hand going to your hip while the other grabs his length so he can line himself up. He drags his tip through your folds, gagging up your wetness and teasing you.

“Buggy-“ You tried to be annoyed but your voice just comes out like a whine.

“Alright, alright.” Buggy finally presses into you, stretching you out as you both groan.

He takes his time, letting you adjust as he sinks into you and holds himself still for a few seconds when he bottoms out, waiting for your breathing to level out. But after that all of his patience ends. His hands grip your hips tight as he repeatedly slams into you, hitting you deep every time. You try to meet him half way, thrusting your own hips but one of Buggy’s hands leaves you hips and goes to the small of your back and pushes down- he starts hitting spots you didn’t know existed and you give into him.

You know he’s not going to last long from the way his thrusts are already stuttering- but you’re not far behind, already sensitive from the orgasm he gave you not minutes ago. He must know you’re close too, the hand on your hip leaves and travels downwards towards your clit.

“C’mon I want to feel you come all over my cock please baby-“ He babbles as his fingers work on your clit driving you closer and closer.

With one final thrust and his pleads in your ear you cum again, walls contracting around his cock and squeezing him tight. You let your front half fall to the ground as Buggy pulls out just in time to paint your folds and ass with his cum. You both sit breathless for a few moments, regaining the ability to think.

“I can’t say I feel knocked down in any sense.” Buggy comments from behind you and you whip around and hit him on the shoulder.

“Really that’s what you’re going to say?” You want to sound angry but you can’t help but laugh at his stupid grin.

“It could have been a lot worse?” Buggy offers and you just roll your eyes and loop your arms around his shoulders.

“Look- that was-“ You almost give him a compliment but think better of it. “You cannot tell anyone. Seriously.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Buggy’s arms wrap around your midsection and he pulls you in. “Seriously, I think Crocodile and Mihawk would actually literally kill me.”

Yeah.

He’s probably right.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #discordantwritings #x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #the cross guild x reader #cross guild x reader

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wally-darling-hyperfixation · 1 year

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Happy Birthday Wally: Actor Wally x Stage hand one off

Do not tag clown bee cause they don’t want to be tagged in written fan art but for everyone else to se HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLOWN AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVERYONE WHO HAS BIRTHDAY TODAY 🎂 make sure to keep you eyes out for random birthday cakes

🍎Today was just another day for Wally. Drive to the stage area. Park his car in his private spot. Head on in to go to his dressing room and get a team to do his makeup. He actually forgot it was his birthday because the week had been so busy. They had been making a Mother’s Day post and talking about moms on the show and people who we see as moms. It was exhausting to Wally. He never really talks about his mother. Though he loves her a lot. He just gets so busy with work that he barely has time to contact family. He heads to the stage shooing away the makeup artists who finished with him so he can go to wardrobe. He notices you and his fellow cast mates whispering but is whisked away to be in todays outfit.

🎬 You were talking with the cast the other day and they told you about Wally’s birthday. Barnaby told you how busy they all been lately and how Wally may have forgotten. So you all got together and formed the Wally Birthday 🎂 surprise group. Poppy would bake the cake. Howdy would get the supplies and Sally would decorate. Since those three weren’t in this weeks episode. They really wanted to help out. So you tell them to bring everything to the dressing room on Wally’s birthday and while everyone is filming the show , they set up for the surprise party. You watch Wally walk by and wait for him to leave the dressing and as soon as he left , the party set up started!

🍎 Wally exits the dressing rooms and sees that Howdy , Poppy, and Sally walk away. He just assumes they going to go chill at the food court area since they weren’t in todays episode. He watches you run around seeming to do even more extra stuff. He wonders what you are doing but he does the episode. Barnaby was talking about his chicken mother. Julie was talking about her oldest sister who she sees as a mom. Frank talked about how his mother used to put bandages on his knee when he fell and Eddie talked about how his mother made the best biscuits he ever had. Wally talks about his mother with the others as they record the show. Not knowing what was happening behind the scenes. Soon enough. They finished filming and everyone packed up. His friends left him like they ran. He was confused . But he heads to wardrobe to get in his regular clothes.

🎬You hush everyone. Making sure they have their gifts in their hands for Wally knowing he would be coming in. The door slowly opens and in comes Wally. You all yell , “SURPRISE !!! Happy Birthday Wally!!!” Confetti flew at him and his face looked shocked. Poppy showed a cake that had his face on it. 🎂 He was so shocked . Everyone hand their gifts and gave him hugs and sang happy birthday and he just smiles tearing up. You hand him your gift last. He opens it and it was a picture of all of them when you first started working together with them. “Thank you (y/n). And thank you for the birthday party,” he says which surprises you. He guessed right it was you. “I got one last gift for you Wally,” you say and give him a cheek kiss finally showing you like him . “Happy birthday Wally,” you say after it and his face turns bright red but he just sighs happily looking at you. “Thank you (y/n) ,” he holds your arm after was swooning over you . Best birthday ever

Ta Da. Some little fluff for my darling. Happy birthday to Clown and everyone else who has a birthday this month!!!!!

Wally tags: @akilaporu001

#welcome home #welcome home fandom #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader #welcome home wally #welcome home x y/n #wally darling x self insert #wally x y/n #wally x reader

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welcometothejianghu · 9 months

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 成化十四年/The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty

(The) Sleuth of (the) Ming Dynasty (it's hard to get an agreement on how many definite articles should go where) is a beautiful, high-budget 2020 drama about a weenie genius detective, his long-suffering and deeply traumatized sugar daddy, and the eunuch with the most difficult job in the Great Ming: keeping these two dumbasses from getting their fool selves imperially executed.

Depending on how you like it, it's either an OT3 or an OTP with an intense, underage third wheel, and either way, it's delightful. I wouldn't call it a comedy, but it has very many funny elements that keep the drama fun and engaging. The first half is full of shorter mysteries that are clever and thoughtfully plotted, and the second half goes in on the longer mystery that ties them all together.

I've already done my quick guide to the early-episode characters, if you want a taste of just how many people are running around and how wonderful they all are. But in case you want to know a little bit more before you commit yourself to a 48-episode series, here's five reasons I think you should watch it!

1. The whole thing smacks of gender

Yeah, this was originally going to be selling point #2, but I know what the people want.

This is not a show about gender. But boy it is a show that has a lot to say about gender, and not just by way of critiquing premodern Chinese gender roles (though it does do that!). Many of the cis characters are either a) somewhat gender nonconforming, b) canny enough to weaponize binary gender expectations, or c) both. Sui Zhou's entire third-act storyline is about how expectations of masculinity exacerbate PTSD in veterans. Three different AFAB characters either dress or live as men. The part where one of the male characters goes undercover in drag is played for laughs, but the joke isn't 'ha ha, a boy in a dress,' it's 'ha ha, this particular boy in a particular dress, and also he's terrible at it.'

And that's even before we get to the eunuchs.

There are several professionally dickless, permanently unmanned characters running around. One-third of the OT3 canonically had his external genitalia nonconsensually removed when he was five years old, and because of this, he has been given unimaginable authority. He's basically the second most powerful man in the entire empire, and he only gets that way by being unquestionably, ostentatiously, and genuinely submissive to the first most powerful man.

I have seen other Chinese media where eunuchs are treated like sinister clowns, good only to be the bad guys and the butts of jokes. Sleuth's main eunuchs are real and complex characters, and because of this, the show gets to explore what it is to live in this weird third-gender category of incredible power and powerlessness.

Now, don't go into this expecting woke gender treatises. Wang Zhi's never going to sit down and go, "You know, my friend and fellow eunuch Ding Rong, because of my lack of a penis, I understand my relationship to masculinity differently than other men do." But the show understands that even if he doesn't say it, it's true. And that makes a lot of the characters and their relationships just so much more interesting.

2. Uncle Jackie Money

Sleuth was the was the fourth c-drama I dove into, following the Untamed, Word of Honor, and Guardian -- or, Some Money BL, Less Money BL, and No Money BL. So imagine my absolute wall-eyed shock to find this was All The Money BL, courtesy of its executive producer, Jackie Chan (seen here with some of his handsome boys):

Sleuth looks good. The costumes are amazing. The sets are stunning. The cinematography is beautiful. Everything is so detailed, and while I can't speak to the absolute historical accuracy of all those details (see point 3), they're still gorgeous. In fact, you know what? I'm going to shut up and show you some of the promotional images.

(For actual screenshots, I'm just going to point you at @rongzhi's tsomd photoset tag, as they have done a tremendous service to the fan community -- though do beware of spoilers.)

Uncle Jackie's influence doesn't end with the money, though. Even though things get a bit goofy and wirework-y near the end, most of the drama's fights are shows of real martial arts skill. You can see his fingerprints on a lot of the choreography -- I'm thinking particularly of the time Tang Fan tries (and fails!) to stab Sui Zhou three times, which is pure Jackie Chan high-speed dexterity.

Add this one to the category of shows your Average American Television Enjoyer Who Can Handle Subtitles would like. In fact, I have shown the first episode to my normie father-in-law, who was impressed. Show it to your dad! See if he picks up on the gay!

3. I am from ... HISTORY!

The Chinese title translates to "The 14th Year of Chenghua," which works out to the year 1478. There are some clear anachronisms, but they tend to be played for comedy, so it's hard to hold that against them. On the whole, though, the show is trying real hard to evoke a very specific moment, and I feel it does so beautifully.

This does, however, mean that several of the characters are real people. I don't even have a good sense of how many of them are based on historical figures, that's how many. Hilariously, Wang Zhi's tag on AO3 used to read "Wang Zhi (?-1487 CE)."

Moreover, these are characters I've seen pop up in other media, played very differently! In particular, Noble Consort (up there in blue) tends to be written as an uncomplicated villain elsewhere, whereas Sleuth gives her a chance to add some goodness to her badness, until, damn, you can't but root for the bitch. (It also downplays the cradle-robbing, which, honestly, is for the best.)

You may have guessed from the eunuch section earlier, but it bears repeating: Wang Zhi is straight-up the best character in the show. He's smart as hell, and he has to be, because the second he's stupid, he's dead. I actually consider it helpful to know ahead of time that he's never going to do a heel turn -- I feel like on my first watchthrough, I was holding my breath for the first two-thirds of the show, waiting for his sudden but inevitable betrayal. It does not come. Wang Zhi is one of the heroes.

He's also, like, evil. He orders people flogged, tortured, and executed. The very first thing you see him doing is sinister as hell. And the show clearly doesn't think this is good, but it also doesn't judge him for it. He's a traumatized seventeen-year-old who has not had a normal moment of his entire life. He's working thanklessly for a boss who could kill him on a whim -- and he's doing it because he literally, physically was made for his job. He's mildly freaking out because he has no emotional grounding to help him understand that these weirdos want to be his friends.

Was the real Wang Zhi like this? That's beside the point. The point is, you get to see how someone in that position could wind up as the war-crimes-committing platonic ideal of a little meow meow.

4. oh my god the food

Warning: This show will make you hungry.

Again, beware of spoilers, but @peppersandcreamsicle and @qinzai have put together an entire cook-along Google Doc so you don't just have to drool -- you can do something about it! Or you can just read it and learn about Chinese cuisine, which is a little more my speed.

But it's not just about how good the food looks. Food is a vital emotional part of the series. People bond over it. They make and share it as a sign of love and care. It indicates status, ethnicity, interest, personality. The show's message about the healing power of cooking for the people you love will bring you to tears.

And yes, Sui Zhou is the main one doing the cooking, so get ready to drool over both the dishes and the handsome man preparing them.

Oh, and as though that weren't enough, Fu Meng Po can actually cook in real life. He's so dreamy. Absolute unreal handsome man with a devastatingly sexy voice. (I know my opinion might be different if I could hear his Taiwanese accent, but I can't so it's not!)

5. An Unsunk Ship

So like I said, my intros to c-drama couples had been WangXian, WenZhou, and WeiLan. That meant I'd basically come to terms with the idea that you can't have a main couple in a BL-but-not-really drama without splitting them up at least a little in the end, for no-homo plausible deniability reasons.

Tang Fan and Sui Zhou are still definitvely, unequivocally together when the story ends, as the iconic pentultimate scene of the series confirms with beauty and simplicity. I refuse to give any more details than that, but that ship's afloat.

(These shirtless pictures aren't from the end, but I wanted to include them, and I didn't have a better place to do it. ...Also, you know, ships and water? Yeah?)

And I think their winding up together reflects Sleuth's entire attitude. Tang Fan is made of sunshine, and the series loves him for it. There is tragedy aplenty in this show, but there's no misery. It is ultimately a hopeful show that believes in the power of second chances, if you're willing to take them. Time and again, the moral of the story is that you are only ever as good as the people who have your back -- but you have to be willing to let them have your back. Let people help you. Let people cook for you. Let people give you a reason to keep living. And then keep living.

Also, Sui Zhou gets two good kabedons off on that little twink, which means they're legally married now. I don't make the rules.

Bonus: Banger opening theme

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This is one you will watch all 48 times.

Bonus #2: The Halo Video

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This is the video that made me go, huh, these Sleuth boys seem like other boys I've enjoyed! Perhaps I shall enjoy them as well! And then I did. So if that might be convincing to you too, well, have at it. Even if it isn't, it's a fascinating three-minute study of shared those-boys-are-in-love visual language across these shows.

Fair warning that it contains shots from right up to the end, so if you'd rather go in completely blank, give this one a pass until later. (Excuse me while I now go watch it for the 10000th time.)

Have I convinced you to watch it yet?

It originally ran on iQiyi, though Viki's got it as well, and Viki's is free if you're willing to put up with some ads about it.

...I just noticed iQiyi's description of the series reads, "When the two handsome leading actors Darren Wang and Fu Meng-Po work together, what will happen? A lovely prefectural judge and an arrogant embroiered [sic] uniform guard join hands to crack unusual cases! Are you going to choose a new idol?" And you know what? Yes. The details are a little off, but that is the correct spirit. Thank you, thirsty blurb.

#sleuth of the ming dynasty #the sleuth of ming dynasty #tsomd #成化十四年 #sloof #i made this #rec post

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adhdslugcrimes · 19 days

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Closed Mind au

Wally, a clown son: do you hate my kind, sir? Did a clown hurt you so bad as a child you have to take it out on a fellow silly little guy?

Bruce: I don't hate clowns.

Wally, looks at Dick:

Dick, shakes his head: he's lying.

Wally, sighs softly: adults normally do, just stop beating my uncle into a pulp and hurt my auntie; uncle Joke was just at the bank to get a loan! A business loan!! You broke an ex and reformed villain's legs for nothing because he was getting a business loan for a clown store!

Bruce: I said I was sorry! You're ten, you just don't understand it yet. *To Dick* and you shouldn't have told him our identities.

Wally: I think I understand breaking a person's legs for nothing is wrong!

Dick: B, we came from the same circus, I tell him everything duh.

Wally:I'm calling Mama (Iris) and auntie Pam. Mr. Pennyworth, can I call my Mama and auntie?

Alfred: of course young master Wallace, this way.

Dick, smiling big: oooo you're in trouble now, B!

Bruce, scoff: please, I'm not scared.

Wally, in the next room: FEAR HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT, SIR!

Baby Jason: ‘hats goin’ on?

Dick: B messed up big time little wing.

Baby Jason: ooooo yous in t’ouble!

Bruce: you corrupted him.

Dick: I saved him, I don't need two of you running around hurting people for no reason.

#wally west #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #closed Mind au #wally was a son of a clown and so the gay clowns adopted him once again #joker is actually just a silly little guy who is just besties with Harley #they just did silly crimes at most traumatic but mostly it just silly bank robberies and stuff #also maybe the death of rudy but that's not able to be proven #mama iris and pam set that man straight #Dick and wally live by circus code #they got loyalty like no other #lie detector meta! Dick #birdflash #batfam #big brother dick saving his sibs from being Bruce

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seraphiism · 1 year

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❀ ﾟ. ༄ ┊ 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ! ( 𝐩𝐭. 𝐢𝐯 ) ;

characters : cyno / alhaitham / kaveh a/n : hiii welcome back campus encounters where everyone is a clown pt. i / ii / iii

↬ cyno ࿐ ࿔

you don't know what to expect in law school. you really don't. you expect high stakes, tension in the air. you expect competition, harsh professors who purposely try to weed out the "weak" and make the class excruciatingly difficult. you're not entirely wrong, you suppose, but the last thing you would imagine is-- well, cyno.

your first impression is entirely wrong. however, you have also known him for-- you glance at the clock-- two minutes.

a sharp gaze, head held high. he radiates an intimidating aura, holds himself to something more grand. you don't have intentions to make small talk; you're too tired for an 8:30am class, anyway, and you hate to admit that he almost frightens you. the professor runs out for a moment. brief technical issue-- something like that. you're already zoning out.

in that small frame of time, the lecture hall comes to life, fills with a thousand conversations at once. you ignore them all, absentmindedly skimming the syllabus. you fail to see cyno's eyes trained on you. intent. focused.

"i guess there's been a...law-l in this class."

you freeze. something in your fight or flight instinct activates. the voice came from your right. cyno is also on your right. surely that wasn't him, right?

right?

you swallow hard, slowly turn your head to look at him.

god. you hope that wasn't him. 8:32 am and you are subjected to inhumane crimes in your introduction to law class. red eyes bore into your soul. his face is blank. you don't know what to make of this.

"you know. like lull. law-l."

it doesn't work that way, you think, and the exasperation almost meets your visage, but you keep it at bay. can't hurt this stranger's feelings, after all. there's something akin to hope in those crimson hues, barely on the surface, but ever so present.

you purse your lips, unable to figure out this delicate situation. you could change this man's life forever. what if you make this future lawyer feel like a clown? what if he dropped out? you are not being dramatic, by the way.

you purse your lips, tight, utterly amused and defeated by the ridiculous predicament. you stare at each other, dead silent.

you laugh. you don't know why, but you do, and maybe it's because of the way he comes off so serious, maybe it's the way you can practically see the hope that his pun will get a reaction.

you may also be delirious. maybe.

"oh, you are hilarious."

cyno smiles. somewhere, he feels tighnari's soul shrivel in the depths of despair.

"no, i'm cyno."

↬ alhaitham ࿐ ࿔

"oh my god." you do not know how many times you have said this in the past ten seconds. twice? three times? a hundred? ( that wouldn't be logically possible, alhaitham says, so you say it again ). "i'm dying. it's coming. i feel it in my bones."

"what is?"

"death."

alhaitham stares at you, deadpan.

"you are being dramatic."

"i'm sorry. i will do it again."

you don't mind literature analysis, not really. it's fascinating-- the way you piece concepts together, discover hidden meaning in seemingly superficial words. it's much easier when you enjoy said literature itself, but when you don't? you may as well throw yourself into the void. suddenly you cannot read.

metaphor to metaphor, symbolism in the strangest of things ( okay, so the kitchen cupboards were pastel yellow and not white in this house, so what? ), you grow frustrated as a nearing deadline approaches, brain absolutely fried from finals. you have ten pages to write. you have two done ( those two are the title page and reference page. so no, they do not count ).

you're not sure how it came to this-- 4am and you're huddled up with alhaitham in the corner of the library, your forehead against the desk, your fellow classmate casually drinking his fifth coffee as if caffeine has no impact on him. he's much better at writing papers than you are, and in all his glory, decided to help you. kind of.

it's been about two hours since you've been working together, and while you appreciate the help, the lack of sleep is finally getting to you. you're burned out, tired, and truthfully, you know this is worth 30% of your grade, but you're about to calculate what your grade would drop to if you simply did not turn it in.

you close your eyes. wooden desk or not, red imprint on your forehead or not, you're about to pass out, right here and right now, except--

the feeling of his hand against your back, gentle. he leans forward, just the slightest bit, speaks in that quiet yet firm tone.

"if you finish this, i'll ask you out on a date."

you sit up at an alarmingly fast rate, throw alhaitham the most horrified look you can fathom. his expression doesn't change much, but you see that slight curl of the lips.

"disgusting. i can't believe you would pull such things on me."

"because it'll work."

you roll your eyes, pinch his cheek before redirecting your attention to the laptop before you.

what an arrogant fool. absolute annoyance. menace. idiot. you hate him, truly.

"i didn't say it wouldn't work."

( fine. it works. funny how you're suddenly awake and how everything suddenly seems to make sense after he proposes that offer. )

↬ kaveh ࿐ ࿔

there are three things you first notice about kaveh.

one. he is pretty. very pretty.

two. oh my god. look at his back. hello.

three. he's sleeping in the library. he's also drooling on his ... sketches?

four. wait. too many things to notice. whatever. maybe you should wake him?

you consider the thought, unsure. you'd hate to be woken by a stranger in the campus library-- it'd be off-putting, you think. you glance at the sketches, take in the sights of the blueprints. intricate designs. gorgeous, really, even if you don't have the slightest clue about anything related to said field.

you'd hate to work so hard on such a thing and have it ruined by...well, drool. you place your hand on his shoulder, touch light and hesitant, and shake him gently. once. twice. five times?

he's not waking. surely you're not going to shake the life out of this stranger, right? it's about another ten seconds before you almost give up, letting out a long sigh of defeat before leaning down the slightest bit.

you're gonna speak to him, speak in very soft tones-- slowly ease him from slumber. he's gonna wake up, you'll back away, smile in hopes of establishing your friendly intentions, and that'll be it. done. boom.

that's the plan, anyway, but when your face gets a little closer to his, his eyes open suddenly. two seconds of eye contact. shock twists into utmost fear.

kaveh screams, shoots right out of his seat. you also scream. your life flashes before your eyes when you see him instinctively grab his suitcase.

"before you get the wrong idea-- you were drooling all over your sketches, so--"

you don't think this really helps. he's blushing furiously, from embarrassment or anger, you don't know, but now he's glancing at his sketches, mostly unharmed, and oh, the panic sets in so much more. you watch, baffled, as kaveh throws caution to the wind, frantically cleans the desk and recovers what he can.

it's about five minutes of this. you keep silent, watch in awe and more-so of shock at how this all played out until he turns towards you. he takes a deep breath. you can tell he's tired, weariness on his features. you almost feel bad.

"did you manage to salvage it?"

there's a flicker of curiosity at your words, though the fatigue almost swallows it entirely.

"it'll be okay, i think." his shoulders drop. he smiles, slightly forced. "thank you for waking me-- uh, even if it happened that way."

you'd normally say sorry ( as much as you can say it in this situation, anyway ) and go your separate ways, but there's something almost bittersweet about him that brings a heaviness to the heart.

"sorry. i really didn't mean to scare you like that." you swallow your courage, offer a hopeful smile. "do you want to go get coffee? i'll buy. consider it another apology."

and there is something-- a shift, a lightening, an ease, and kaveh's expression seems to relax at your offer.

( yes, you do go out for coffee. it's one of many future caffeine runs, you both call it, and it's the beginning of a chaotic friendship of sorts. )

taglist : @oshitgirlie ╰ ♡ ;; taglist form !!

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #cyno x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #i love campus encounters . the dry tone is so fun to write #they r all a mess your honor im cradling them all #.: writing #.: multi

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crooked-wasteland · 6 months

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We've Peaked

A little more than halfway through the second season, Helluva Boss has finally found its place where it performs best: embracing its own mediocrity with an emphasis on shallow storytelling and a narrative death spiral that only serves to strip the world and characters of depth every time they are engaged with. It’s almost disappointing to see how highly rated this episode is by fellow critics solely because of the superficial aspects that add nothing to the plot, nor do these scenes affect change in the characters. It is far from the worst episode, but it has every major narrative flaw from every previous episode inside of it, that seems to get a pass because it's a “Special” and not necessarily expected to progress the main series in any way. My counterpoint is that an episode that is self-contained should then be able to narratively progress a character, if not the plot, which Medrano and her team continues to fail to accomplish.

To make my points concise, I will alternatively deconstruct the episode as is while including a general rewrite of how Medrano could have accomplished the same story with any shred of competence.

The narrative needs to skip around a bit, so, starting from the present, FizzaRolli is in a frenzied state of distress while looking for his foundation to hide his imperfections. It is far from a subtle metaphor of Fizz requiring the image of perfection while being “broken” underneath. It isn’t in any way revolutionary from the setup to the execution, though that isn’t to insinuate it is bad because it is unoriginal. Arguably, nothing is. But this scene establishes the major conflict throughout the episode, that being FizzaRolli's self-esteem. The issue is, this scene is a contradiction from the actual cold opening.

FizzaRolli and Blitz going to the Mammon show sets up the entire backstory premise of FizzaRolli’s climb to fame, but presents a confusing representation of what Fizz’s self-esteem issues are. There are generally a ton of problems with this opening on a systemic scale. Why is the circus so run down if FizzaRolli’s shows are so popular that he has a fanclub as a teenager? Why is it the audience is supposed to be invested in FizzaRolli’s self-esteem about being good enough when every external indicator in the episode shows Fizz as already being at the top of his game. The star of the circus, his own obsessive fanclub, winning Mammon’s clown pageant and being the “Host with the Most” for Ozzie’s shows a character who has maintained a very consistent rise to fame. Shoehorning in a singular and random nobody claiming Fizz is overrated after fawning all over him doesn’t warrant the tearful meltdown he has associated with his abilities, nor would it warrant the shaky sense of esteem he apparently keeps with him the entire rest of his life. Even in Oops, it's Blit’s insinuation of FizzaRolli being a sugar baby pet of Ozzie’s that upsets him, not any jab at Fizz’s abilities.

The alternative version that would have made all of this make sense would have been not questioning FizzaRolli’s ability to do, but the crushing weight of expectation to continue to succeed. The fear of having “peaked”. It’s why he can both be at the top and severely anxious. The knowledge that once you’re at the top, there is an awfully long way to fall would have made far more sense than Fizz questioning his actual ability to get to where he is. The reason Fizz can’t be obtuse to his popularity and fame is because of every other episode we have actively seen him revel in it. Just the episode prior he is so confident in his status that he shows off ostentatiously with a limo decked out in phallic shaped sparklers and even says that it's nice not to be a recognized celebrity after that display. It’s clear that being “good enough” is not a long-standing fear for Fizz’s character, but that it should have been the pressure to keep being “good enough”. This misinterpretation of what their own character’s weaknesses are, and said weakness being the plot, is the root of the obnoxious weed that has strangled the show from the beginning.

Once again, I also can’t help but point out the lack of information on Tilla is still a huge problem with this storyline. For a character whose existence is the inciting incident for the entire series:

As I said, this episode is merely the accumulation of every other episode’s main problems put front and center. It’s almost an exercise in self denial to limit the number of tangents that my arguments could go down.

1) Blitzo meets Stolas to “help” his mom, being the inciting incident for the entire series to this point.

2) Tilla’s implied death in the fire is why Blitzo lost his family as a whole

3) Tilla’s implied illness is why it makes implied sense that money was never used to make the circus better/safer so the fire never happened despite FizzaRolli being so popular that he has a rabid fanbase so he must be making the circus substantial money, which Cash even claims when he is a child.

Regardless, the insecurity in the flashback sequence of FizzaRolli and Blitz is fundamentally not the same insecurity as seen in the rest of the episode. Not only does it not make sense for the character, it makes no sense for the storyline up to this point.

Then there is the confusion that supersedes the plot: the timeline. It is nothing new for Medrano to lack a clear definition of her own narrative; linking The Circus with Loo Loo Land was one of the most egregious misunderstandings of her own story that generally derailed the escalation of the relationship between Stolas and Blitz and required the assassination plot to be unwritten. So this episode puts us back in that exact same position by having it be that somewhere between this episode’s flashback and the accident from Oops, FizzaRolli went through puberty, won the pageant, got prosthetics, went through rehab and instantaneously exploded in fame. It is a miserably scrambled mess of events that just necessitates the practice the writers obviously utilized to get to this point: Don’t think about it.

Fizz had to have won the Clown Pageant before he got his prosthetics because he has his prosthetics. It's clear they were designed and built by Asmodeus so he would have needed connections with a Sin before that. Fizz linking his romantic relationship to Ozzie with his business relationship with Mammon specifies how that connection was made. As such he needed to win the pageant BEFORE the accident, so regardless of Fizz entering the first ever pageant or a subsequent one, it doesn’t change the complications of the timeline.

Back to the story issues at hand, Asmodeus is very clear that he would prefer if FizzaRolli would not attend the Clown Pageant that year. The fact that he has Fizz’s foundation in hand to give insinuates that Ozzie was actively hiding the makeup from his partner to keep him from going in the first place. Regardless of how much one would prefer to read character into these actions, it makes it very clear that Ozzie is not impressed by Fizz’s participation and he tries everything imaginable to talk the jester out of it, just short of forcibly locking him in their home. FizzaRolli makes the claim in this scene that being in the pageant is for himself and not Ozzie’s opinion of him, only for that to not be the case come the emotional turn of the narrative. When the reason Fizz breaks away from Mammon isn’t because he has any confidence in himself, but because Ozzie would love him anyway contradicts the entire setup. It additionally weakens Fizz’s resolve and the meaning behind his rejection of Mammon by making it not at all about him and all about the relationship. It isn’t FizzaRolli overcoming a codependency, but merely reassigning the target of it from Mammon to Asmodeus. Which, in terms of the beginning, is his brokenness. He never fixes that metaphors, just that it is okay now which is never the case with codependency.

Then there is the pointless addition of Blitz’s to the story. Unlike the Theft subplot in The Circus where it felt like some kind of repercussion should have come from the event due to its inciting nature, Blitz’s presence in this episode is purely unnecessary. Which falls back into how Medrano and Spindlehorse fail to optimize time and animation (and thus funds) in the show.

There was absolutely a way to have this episode work with only the most minor of changes that would have overwhelmingly shifted the plot and made all these elements cohesive. This is why I state this is one of the worst episodes, but that this is probably the best Helluva Boss will ever be able to achieve moving forward. It isn’t a means of insulting Medrano and the team by calling this episode incompetent, it is merely stating a fact. The issue with this episode is that it is incompetent and this is why:

As previously stated, the episode needed to keep a clear focus on the nature of Fizzarolli’s self esteem issues. They put their money on the wrong horse in practice, but just a slight contextual shift would have rectified those problems. Still have the episode play out generally the same

I personally do not like how one dimensional the antagonists are in this episode. The clown competitors deserve to have some dignity and be defined as something other than “bitch”. I am pained every time a female character in this show gets boiled down to that one word. There is a major difference between a character being “bitchy” and a character just being a “bitch”. It's demeaning to women, makes them one dimensional, devalues feminine competitiveness and ambition to being a personality flaw. It is agonizing to witness it happening over and over again.

Have Fizzarolli become progressively overwhelmed by his need to be the best and seeing younger and fresh new talent threatening his status. Not necessarily because Mammon or Ozzie would replace him, but because of his fear of losing value in himself due to equating it with his professional popularity. Have Blitz be a voice of concern about FizzaRolli’s declining mental health. Play into that relationship they started building in Oops by having Blitz say something along the lines of “This isn’t you.” Go back to the line in Oops about how he demands to know if the sex thing is all Fizz is about anymore and show that, actually, no, it isn’t.

Stepping back a bit, it feels highly inappropriate to include a child in this episode when placed in context with the show. Especially a disabled child where this merely feels like a manipulation ploy by the creators that shocks the moment out of being a true emotional connection.

For one, the pageant and Fizzarolli’s performance prior to this scene has been rather sexual, additionally the sexualization of the entire performance starts with the designs for the girls in the competition and merely becomes more overt from there. It is obvious this isn’t a show for a child as young as the one depicted, maybe a teenager, but not a child. The argument can be made that it is Hell and whatever, the show’s sense of values oscillate based on what reaction the creators are seeking to elicit from the audience. The choice of having the character be deaf is simply the cherry on top of what the purpose of this character was: Brownie points. This entire sequence is solely to garner praise for representation and animation instead of playing any narrative role or being impactful to the characters. It isn't even a deep representation, but one that disappears once they feel they did enough to earn that adulation, utilizing a real disability real people live with as a means of creating attention and praise for themselves.

Instead, this scene should have focused on the poor kid who was thrown out. It could have been a group of kids who shouldn’t be there in the first place due to their age and lack of money, allowing the deaf child to remain in the story and have a more meaningful impact. Start the scene with FizzaRolli being obviously uncomfortable with his older fans and how this life he has been working to achieve and maintain actually isn’t what he wants. Having this scene after a moment where Blitzo tells Fizz, “You haven’t changed that much. I know you, and this isn’t you.” could really show how stressful Fizz’s job is because he doesn’t belong there.

Use the kids being tossed out or shooed away as the inciting factor for why Fizz gains his confidence.

The biggest problem with the deaf child scene is that the interaction lacks any depth. FizzaRolli doesn’t break through his own insecurities by engaging with the child, instead it is cut short and the scene is immediately forgotten with the comedic villain from the beginning interrupting the moment and the kid proceeds to vanish, no longer useful to the creators.

This should have been the moment when FizzaRolli had his emotional turn.

Remove the Ozzie scene in the back room entirely and have Fizz engage with the kids. Ask them their names and what their interests are. Treat them like people and not just props. Having Fizz be poor growing up himself, have them connect on that. Growing up in an adult world with nothing and being unwanted unless they are useful for some greedy or selfish adult. Have Fizz rekindle his genuine love for performing through the kids and wanting to give them the best performance, because he sees how he inspires them. Added with the (admittedly inconsistent) world building that Imps are socially regarded very lowly, it brings power to Fizz’s position and resolve to be the performer who would have inspired himself when he was a kid.

Following that scene, have Fizzarolli cut the Meet and Greet short and run back to his dressing room where Blitz is and have Fizz ask Blitz to perform with him like when they were younger, incorporating Blitz’s presence in the story more fully and allowing their relationship to progress from the previous episode. This allows Fizz’s song to feel empowering because it is coming from him and inside himself, not because his buff boyfriend is just behind the curtain to protect him. It would legitimately be Fizz risking something in the process of rediscovering himself and reclaiming his identity as well as reconcile Fizz’s past with his present to merge a new future.

This isn't even touching on the super public reveal of the one secret Ozzie and Fizz are supposed to be living under that has been proven not to matter seeing as how many demon nobility are dating the "lowest" of commoners in this universe. Additionally, people have already known about the Ozzie and Fizz relationship based on the newspaper, so, again, having the resolution being "true love" and the reason everything is okay at the end being about a romantic relationship just further reaffirms the implied belief that the creators think codependency is romance and relationships can replace a personality.

The point being that these changes don’t fundamentally alter anything from the episode while creating a stronger character for FizzaRolli and progressing the larger story. It would have also been a moment for Blitz to grow as well and set up the starting point of a turn for his character too. It could have rehabilitated the worst parts of Seeing Stars and additionally worked on Blitz’s self esteem issues vicariously, showing how bettering yourself can also improve those around you. It also wouldn't have taken much to make these changes in the writing and editing process because these problems are so glaringly obvious and simply required a couple more eyes on the script to make it something good.

So the only reason it failed to identify any of these weaknesses can only be chalked up to pure incompetence. And excuse me if I guild the lily for a moment, but if these slight changes were missed for how they would have benefitted the characters and elevated the story, then there is no reason to believe or hope the writing will ever get better.

Helluva Boss has peaked.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #vivienne medrano #vivziepop #helluva boss #vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #spindlehorse criticism #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss episode 7 #helluva boss ep 7 #mammon's magnificent musical #in this essay i will #long reads #long post

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dizzybizz · 1 month

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rahghhh ok hi 👋 farmer ramble time

this is my meanie nyx he kinda sucks 😚 he has a scary face and cold demeanor (ive been wanting a mean farmer for a while.. remy was originally supposed to be a scary guy but i poured too much autism awkward and scared swag into him whoops) he lowkey gives sickly vampire whos also sick of everything.

i always interact with the trash cans when i walk past them, right, n i decided that instead of rummaging through them. nyx just. kicks them. hes a petty pathetic fucker ok.

he's gonna have so many dinosaurs one day. his second one is on the way atm. man fished up a dino egg n his whole life shifted trajectory. his first dino is named neo btw. he has a black cat named nyponsoppa n a horse named laurel. he got another pet bowl set up but then choked at the price of actually getting another one.

he nearly cried at the fair after losing a lot of tokens to that dumb wheel goddammit. he nearly stayed a few extra hours to see how many tokens he could get and to glare at the guy running the stall, if you can even call it that. he did win the grange display but he gambled and lost all those tokens.....

my plan for the future is to get krobus to move in,,,,, and for the two of them to have many dinos.

jj is another silly little guy farmer but hes an actual clown. i think he might be a failed comedian or smth. hes from a co op farm with @deathianartworks n @witchkittymeow. n boy is every person on that farm . incompetent. <3 theyre a trio of three short gays with some anger issues and zero braincells and names all starting with j. so much stupid shit goes on there, im concerned for the animals tbch.

he has stolen a lot of decorations from his fellow farmers. and he will continue. his collection of borrowed goods include: two decorative bowls, a window and a painting.

he doesnt trust the tv and its fortunes.... "spirits are very happy!! *infested floor in the mines n has to give up bc sword sucks so badddd* (next day) spirits are very happy..!! *infested floor in the mines n has to give up bc sword sucks so badddd* (later that day) digs up a geode from the museum trash can, goes straight up to clint n watches as the clock turns 4pm* he hasnt really been the same since that happened. 😔

and oh uh shit its 1am

pls feel free to send asks n whatnot abt them n my other farmers tho (PLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPSLPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLS (ilvoe my farmers sm))

#i cant draw rn i wnted to make fully colored shit for em but its not working out raggh #stardew valley #sdv #sdv farmer #nyxsliminalfarm #thejssprucetipfarm #my art #uh i was like “oh ill do a rambly sdv farmer post then go sleep” n its 1 n i am so tired help

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

🎪 WIBTA for telling the truth about certain work-related skills I have?

There’s a LOT of backstory to this. I will be keeping it as concise as I can, but note that this is FAR from an exhaustive list of details.

I (20sNB) do a lot of theatre-related contract work in my hometown and surrounding areas. My background lies very much in the circus I grew up in (since I was 6, so it’s been a pretty considerable percentage of my life)—I do a lot of stilt walking, clowning, balance stuff, etc, and whenever I help train new people in power tool use/concession stand running/rigging/other stuff it pretty much always lets slip that the circus is in fact where I learned most if not all relevant skills that I use for that kind of job. Unsurprisingly, they often want to hear details about my pretty unique backstory.

However, my relationship with said circus has soured rather considerably over the past few years. I finally decided to fully cut ties a few months ago, and multiple people who have been in my life for a very long time had been encouraging me to do so for a number of years, so I was very supported when I did—but it still hurt a lot to actually do it when I had been there for basically my whole life. The vast majority of people there (coaches, riggers, fellow performers, etc) are people I was very close with and care for deeply—my issues with the organization lie very specifically with a few particular people who are unfortunately the ones on top. I no longer feel particularly welcome to go back there, and in all likelihood won’t be seeing most of them again. I’ve been trying to make my peace with this.

(For a little context surrounding my departure—this circus’ artistic director has had a HUGE favoritism problem for as long as I can remember. I was never a favorite. The executive director liked me quite a lot for my work ethic, and actually hired me on as staff on top of being a performer when I was 16, which is where I learned a lot of what I know about things like concessions and running crew and the like—but he was never the one making decisions about shows, and I was often belittled or downright dismissed by those who were. The incident that had most of my loved ones encouraging me to walk away happened earlier that year, when a rigging accident left me with a permanent injury that still often visibly debilitates me to this day—something else the people wanting to learn about my circus background will sometimes ask about. But I didn’t want to leave, because there was really nowhere else I could get the community + training and performing experience I was getting there, and I know full well that it was purely an accident. However, I was never satisfied with the way the organization handled the incident, and this was far from the only time I’d been dismissed as a person there—several adults in my life even compared my treatment there to an abusive relationship, and though I did not see it at the time, hindsight has me beginning to agree with them. The specific incident that finally got me to leave was probably less of a big deal than that injury was, but other factors since then had me considering leaving for quite a while before that finally happened anyways.)

I don’t really think I’m TA for leaving, even if I did do it rather abruptly and had a ton of responsibilities there that surely got dumped onto somebody else—if these new directors couldn’t even be bothered to actually ask me to reconsider, instead of just having someone from admin do it on their behalf, they probably didn’t feel all that betrayed anyways. Here’s where I’ve been running into a lot of issues lately: even though I no longer affiliate with said circus, the people who I now work with in other organizations often ask me about my involvement with it, usually because they’re interested in becoming involved themselves. I’m finding that over the months since I decided to fully sever ties there I have not been feeling any better/less raw about it at all. On the one hand, I am very tempted (and would probably find it rather cathartic at that) to warn them away from spending their time with that place specifically, for the stated reasons. On the other hand, I spent the vast majority of my life so far growing up there, there are several people still there for whom I care very deeply, and I do think it’s overall a good organization that serves (most of) the people it reaches super well—I would definitely not be the person I am today without it, and I just can’t bring myself to badmouth the entire organization for the actions of a few specific people when I know they’re always hurting for staff and the like. Unfortunately, it’s pretty much impossible to talk about my involvement with them without bringing up the circumstances of my departure, especially when people frequently ask why I would leave a place I otherwise speak so fondly of.

At this point, I think it would be much easier for me (and cause a lot less heartache overall) if I just made up some different kind of backstory of how I learned all my circus skills—but on the other hand, that’s super dishonest and I don’t know how long I’d be able to keep up a lie with any complexity to it. Is it the less assholeish move to simply tell the truth? I’m really struggling to think of any alternatives to just super awkwardly changing topics as soon as anyone compliments or asks about what I do, which probably doesn’t reflect well on me in the long run when I’m trying to rebuild my network from the ground up.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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aalyssah · 1 year

Text

Movie Night

Pairing: Solo Sikoa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 1,258

Summary: You get scared from watching a movie and Solo is there to comfort you.

A/N: Fluffy Solo! Hope You Enjoy!

Movie night.

A night where you and your fellow Bloodline members watched a movie of the person's choice and tonight was Sami's.

You were extremely excited due to the fact the newest John Wick movie came out, and knowing him, he would probably choose it.

You took the bag of popcorn out of the microwave and poured it in a bowl. "Y/n, hurry up!" You rolled your eyes at how impatient they were being. "Calm down, I'm coming." You rushed out with a smile on your face and sat down next to Solo.

He was the most calm out of everyone and that's what made you start to like him. "What we watching,Uce?" Jimmy questioned. Sami had a big smile on his face as he chose the movie. "It!" The smile on your face dropped quickly, as he said that. You stared at the screen with the clown on it, making a chill run down your spine.

You've never liked clowns ever since you were a kid, especially after your Dad played a prank on you, which consisted of him sneaking through your window at night dressed up as a clown. "Uh, what?" Everyone looked at you, at your question. "It? Y'know what that is?" Sami asked, sounding happy.

"Y-yeah, but I thought you would choose John Wick." Sami shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Nah, I wanna try something different for once." You stayed quiet, as the movie started up.

Throughout the movie, every time you saw the clown, you would flinch. You tried to not make it noticeable, like when the music started to increase you would grab some popcorn or pick up your phone and check random things, but at one point you weren't fast enough.

A jump scare came on the screen, making you jump so hard, everyone noticed and Sami busted out laughing. "Oh my Y/n, did that scare you?" The tone in his voice was sort of a mockery and you did not like it one bit. "Yeah, just a little. Let's just continue the movie."

You nervously responded, trying to change the subject. "Nah, you got so scared, it was pathetic!" You felt tears form in your eyes at that one word. 'Pathetic.' If you haven't heard that word in your life more than 100 times, it's not you.

You sniffled, taking a deep breath before standing up. "I-I'm gonna go to b-bed, I'll see you guys t-tomorrow." You didn't waste any time rushing to your room, letting a few tears fall. As soon as you reached your room, sobs escaped your mouth.

You were on the floor, shaking in pain. You didn’t know why you kept watching the movie, but you wouldn't expect Sami to be the one to call you out like that.

Meanwhile, in the living room, it wasn't going so well. As you quieted down your cries, you heard the conversation in the living room. "Well, that just happened." Sami awkwardly said, breaking the silence.

Jimmy and Jey, on the other hand, looked at Sami in shame. "What they hell was that?" The booming voice of Solo shocked everyone. "W-what do you mean?" Solo rolled his eyes. “What did you just do to Y/n?” Sami shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, it’s not my fault she’s scared.” Sami tried playing the movie back, but Solo was quick to grab the remote.

“No, you made her cry.” Sami sighed loudly, getting slightly annoyed at how he was pushing the conversation. “Look, it’s not my fault that she’s just a scared bitch and-” The moment that word left Sami’s mouth, Solo got up fast, and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “If you never talk about her like that again, I swear to god, I’ll ruin your fuckin’ career. You hear me?”

It took Jimmy and Jey to calm him down and pull him off of Sami. While Roman was sitting on the couch, observing the situation at how protective Solo is about you. “Uce, chill out. Just go talk to Y/n, and we’ll handle Sami.” Solo didn’t look at anyone else, but Sami for a good minute before walking away to your room.

The moment Solo walked behind the wall, Sami let out a breath of relief. “Woah, Solo is one scary man.” Sami admitted and unpaused the movie. “Why do you think he acted like that?” Jey questioned with confusion in his voice. “Because he’s in love with her.” Roman answered, making everyone think for a moment.

The knock on your door was soft and you knew who it was. You walked to the door and creaked it open. You were met with Solo, in his signature black hoodie. “Hey.” His voice was quiet and much more calm than what you heard out there. “Hi.” You both just stood there, awkwardly looking at each other until you stepped back, letting him in.

You closed the door and belly flopped on the bed, letting a few tears drop. “I’m sorry.” Solo’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Why are you apologizing?” You turned over, looking at him with your teary red eyes. “Because I ruined movie night.” Solo huffed and scooted to you. “You didn’t ruin movie night, Y/n. You were just — upset?”

Solo didn’t know how to explain it, but you knew what he was trying to say. “My dad.” You started. “My dad, he- he, played this prank on me when I was 7. He dressed up as a clown when I was sleeping and came through my bedroom window and ‘attacked’ me.”

Solo stayed silent, feeling bad. “Oh, but don’t worry, all he said is that it’s just a prank and I’m a pathetic little bitch, that’s scared of everything.” Solo bit his lip, trying to control his anger. “And Sami knew about it. He knew about my fear of clowns, but still chose the movie.”

Solo began to stand up and go to the door, but your hands grabbed his wrist. “Don’t, please don’t, Solo. It’s okay.” Hearing you plead for him, made his heart pound. He sat down with you, pulling the blanket up. “I’m sorry about that. I thought I would have to beat his ass.” You both shared a laugh before falling silent again. “Thank you.”

Solo whispered a quiet, ‘For what?’ “For sticking up for me. I know Jimmy and Jey wouldn’t, but you did and I really appreciate that.” Solo smiled at you, pulling you closer to his chest. “I couldn’t have my favorite girl crying, could I?” A blush formed on your cheeks. Did he just admit to liking you?

The silence was strong as Solo realized what he just said. “Sorry, imma go.” You shook your head pulling him back. “It’s okay, I like you too.” Wait, Solo never said he liked you. You just told him about your crush. Solo noticed how scared you looked and pulled you in for a reassuring kiss.

His lips were soft, as his tongue slipped into your mouth. He held you like you were the most fragile thing in the world. When you both pulled back, you ducked your head down, avoiding eye contact, feeling embarrassed.

Solo chucked, using his finger to pull your head up. “Don’t get all shy on me now.” You looked at him with adoration, feeling deeply in love with him.

“We can have our own movie night here.” You perked up at the suggestion. “John Wick and popcorn?” Solo nodded his head and went to get the popcorn.

#solo sikoa #solo sikoa fluff #solo sikoa imagine #solo sikoa smut #solo sikoa fic #solo sikoa x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wrestling smut

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