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plutoswritingplanet · 7 months

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You Started It pt. 2(Buggy The Clown x F!Reader)

a/n: GMFU, that's all i have to say. this chapter was strongly inspired by the song Shikayat from the movie Gangubai Kathiawadi,

Warnings: General Asshole Behavior from The Man Of The Hour, Hostage Situation, Light Bondage (lmao), Some Good Old Smexual Tension.

Summary: The time for your great performance finally arrives, but the culmination will surprise both you and your captor.

Part 1.

You awake to the sound of music. Drums, trumpets and bells fill your ears, shaking you from some pleasant dream, where you could run free with your brother and his crew. Instead, your forehead aches from the way the bars of your prison dug into it, while you slept. Your legs are sore as well, dangling above the floor, wooden planks leaving marks on your thighs. Your joints crack, as you try to straighten yourself to the best of your capacity, an unpleasant shiver running up your back. Groggily, you wipe left-over tears from your eyes. The music wires itself into your brain, like a bug drilling inside your skull.

Then, someone yells. You know the voice all too well. The music stops immediately, and with a quickened pulse, you hear footsteps approaching the door to the backroom.

He waltzes in, a spring in his step betraying his barely contained excitement. It's been a week since your faithful conversation, and you haven't been moved from your spot above ground. Like a bird in a cage, he has kept you locked, visiting even more often than before. To feed you, give you some water, drink in the sight of you, pester you with questions you had no intention of answering. Truly, your purpose here must've shifted from solely being a Hostage, to providing Entertainment. Just like he's said when you first got here.

"Hostage!" he exclaims, as soon, as the door closes behind him.

"Captain" you answer, voice tired and still traced with the remnants of sleep. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He's not bothered by your sarcasm. You're not sure if he even registered it, with his giddy state.

"Today's your big day!" he jumps a few steps in your direction, wobbling on the balls of his feet,

At your confused, if slightly annoyed expression, he raises his hands, and that's when you notice the elephant in the room. A costume, folded neatly in his arms, one, you're without a doubt expected to wear. It's pink, baby pink and frilly to say the least. You can see an ungodly amount of ruffles, and sequins, and small golden bells. It makes your face involuntarily scrunch up. Never in a million years you'd be caught wearing such a pink thing of your own accord. But, as much as you hate the sight before you, the show must go on. You know it, and he most definitely knows so, too.

You flinch, when the Clown throws the costume to the side, lets it collide onto the table, bells ringing loudly. Then, he produces a key from the pocket of his trousers

"Be good, or else" he warns, and you nod, because what else can you do.

The soft click of the lock is like music to your ears, and as soon as the man opens the door, you nearly moan at the feeling of your legs finally being able to stretch. He watches from the side, as you unfurl yourself from the cage, limb by limb. Oh, the feeling of solid ground under your feet is almost too much

"I really cooped you up in there…" he muses to himself, and you contain the venomous look you were about to throw him.

Instead, you opt for stretching out your sore muscles, rising your hands as far above your head as you possibly can, and try to ignore the spark in his eyes, as he watches your shirt ride up your stomach, Finally, he clears his throat, crosses the room to the table and gathers the costume back in his arms

"Don't take long" he winks and points his chin towards the dressing room screen, tucked away against one of the walls.

Grabbing the amassing of fabric from his arms, and trying really hard not to touch him, you retreat to hide behind it. The screen is big enough to cover your body, but your head peeks above, and you shoot a cautious look towards the clown. To his credit, he hasn't moved any closer, rummaging through one of the chests at the end of the room. Your eyes catch a glimpse of something metallic and very sharp, disappearing into the inside pocket of his coat, and your heart jumps to your throat.

Your hands now shaking, you lay out the fabric, trying to get a good look at the costume, before you have to inevitably put it on your body. As you look at the full garb, it doesn't look as intimidating, as before. The ruffles, although pink and obnoxious, are flowing nicely with the entirety of the outfit. It is, however, much more revealing, than you've anticipated, and against your better judgement, you throw a single, judgy look towards the Clown, who immediately catches your eye at the other side of the screen

"Chop-chop, we haven't got all day" he smiles at you, full teeth on display.

Shaking your head, you begin to undress, movements slightly skittish, from the sudden anxiety running up your spine. The outfit slides against your body with ease, the fit being slightly too big on your figure. The expanse of your stomach lays bare, ruffles from the hem of the skimpy top tickling your ribs. Your legs are also, almost completely exposed, the lower half of the costume turning out to be a skirt with rather deep cutouts on the sides. It's a shame you don't have a mirror anywhere nearby, although perhaps it's for the best. You don't know if you could stomach to look at yourself in this ridiculous getup

"Ready, Hostage?" his voice startles you against your will, and after a couple of deep breaths, you step out from behind the screen.

His face remains blank, but his eyes feverishly run all across your body, taking in the image in utter silence. Again, anxiety rises in your gut, this time however, you begin to worry that somehow, this isn't enough. That this isn't the vision he has conjured up in his head, and anything deviating from his vision was sure to anger him beyond belief. You bite your lip in anticipation, as he slowly starts to walk towards you. Then, to your utter confusion, he kneels down just in front of you.

Silence envelops the two of you like a blanket made of tar. It pours into your lungs, making you unable to breathe. His hands are steady, as he reaches out and places them on one of your ankles. Your mismatched shoe slides off your foot under his gentle tug. Then, the other one. Your bare feet hit the floor and that's when you realize, you've begun to shiver

"The audience will love you" he breathes, voice quiet and reserved, almost unrecognizable from his regular, flashy persona.

Then, his hands retract to the inside of his coat. Your breath hitches, as he pulls out a golden cuff adorned with the same, small bells, which are currently attached to the rest of your outfit. Your brows furrow, and another, unexplainable feeling blossoms in your stomach, as you watch him lean down to clasp the cuff around your ankle, the second one following closely behind. His hands linger for a moment, and another surge of trembles runs through you. He's warm, and his fingers are calloused, but somehow, your skin doesn't seem to mind. If anything, you'd risk saying the way he softly slides his digits up your calf is enjoyable. Troubling and confusing, yes, but enjoyable nonetheless.

You sway in your place, as he rises from his knees

"Give me your hands, Hostage" since when has this nickname become so affectionate on his lips, you can't remember.

One part of your brain reasons, that it's a recent development, caused by the time you were forced to spend in his grasp. The other, more treacherous part supplies, that this strange intonation has been there from the very start. You were just too stubborn to notice it.

The tremors running through your hands, as you raise them to present to him, are honestly embarrassing. Your head hangs low, to shield your face from his gaze. It's no use, he can see right through you. The flush in your cheeks, your mouth falling slightly open, the shine in your eyes. He eats it up like a man starved. Reactions, that's what he's after, and with the way you've been acting, you've given him quite the show already.

It's quiet again, safe for the occasional jingle of the bells, as he gently locks two bracelets around your wrists, identical to the ones on your feet. His fingers toy with the golden clasp, brushing against your running pulse. Tension builds in your stomach, as his eyes finally look up to yours. You would've believed you were solitary in your confusing feelings, if his breath didn't come out in quick gasps through his painted lips. Lips, which in this quiet moment seem much too appetizing than they had any right to be.

"You look perfect" his breath brushes against your face, "There's just one little thing, that's missing, Hostage."

Your brows scrunch together, as you watch him reach into his pocket yet again. A beautiful silken scarf slides between his palms. It's pink as well, adorned with constellations stitched in with a shiny thread. Your confusion deepens, when he grabs your hand and turns your wrist up. Then, your heart drops.

Between the rows of small bells, you can see a golden loop attached to the cuff, identical looking back at you from your other wrist. You try to voice your protest, try to wring out your hand, but his grip on you tightens, and he tuts quietly under his breath.

"Can't have you flying away now, can I?" he weaves the scarf between the loops, and ties your hands together, leaving the fabric to drape in between

"How the hell do you expect me to perform with my hands tied?" your voice comes out much weaker than you've anticipated, betraying your growing fear.

To that, he looks up with a grin, yet his eyes remain cold, causing your whole body to shiver.

"You're a smart girl, you'll figure it out."

His finger detaches again, flying towards your nose and pushing it hard enough to make your entire face scrunch up. Then, he grabs a handful of the fabric, tugs on it to check the binds, and starts walking towards the door, not sparing you as much as a glance. And you follow, obediently, trying to make his head explode with your brain.

It's your fault, really, the feeling of disappointment and anger swirling around in your head. All this sudden quiet intimacy has clouded your judgement, and you've forgotten who you're truly dealing with. Oh, how you wish you could do anything to hurt him. How you wish, your brother would rescue you already, free you from this prison, not only physically, but mentally as well, so you won't have to think about this stupid, homicidal clown ever again.

If he senses you fuming behind him, he doesn't comment. And why would he? You're still following him, as he drags you through the stage, right to the middle of your future dance floor.

Your eyes dart around the place, trying to find anything, anyone, who could help you escape this predicament. To your surprise, and later, horror, the Circus is completely empty. Not a soul shares your fate. Not the public, not his Freaks, not even the Announcer. The silence makes goosebumps erupt all across your flesh, and words get stuck in your throat, as Buggy turns to face you with an unsettling grin plastered across his lips.

"I thought a private performance would be much more appropriate for you, my Hostage" his smile widens at your expression.

You want to scream at him, punch him in his stupid face, but all you can manage is glare daggers at his stupid face. Suddenly, the lights flicker on, startling you, as beams of light flow around you, only to fall right on the two of you. Buggy grabs your face, squishing your cheeks between his palms. His enthusiasm would be contagious, if you weren't scared shitless by this entire situation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to a one-of-a-kind performance" he whispers inches from your face, "My dearest Hostage will dance for her life… and for your entertainment."

He lets go of you, forcefully showing you away, and you take a step back to stabilize yourself. The lights focus solely on you, and in the brightness surrounding you, you realize, you can't see anything besides the middle of the dance floor. Cackling like a madman, the Clown steps back, his hands clasped in front of his chest. You almost call out for him, as he slides into the shadows, but any sound dies on your tongue.

You're alone, again. Your breath quickens, as your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. This is not at all how you've envisioned this performance to go. Well, above all things, you didn't expect it would happen at all. Your brother should have freed you by now, and while you had your utmost faith in him, you couldn't shake the feeling of deeply seated worry. Which is why, you had to endure this torture. So you can see your brother again, when he finally comes for you. With a determined expression, you nod your head at the darkness and raise your hands, getting into, what you hope would look, like a dancing stance.

He holds you in anticipation for a moment longer, as any great showman should. And then, music floods the stadium. Bells and violins, distorted slightly by what you assume is an old gramophone. You recognize the song, thankfully, your face falling slightly, as you remember the meaning. A love song, of course, about hatred and affection. Bitter-sweet. Your limbs feel heavy and awkward, but you start to move nonetheless.

He wants a private show? You'll give him one, he won't forget.

The rhythm picks up and so do the movements of your hips. Bells jingle all around you, as you slide from one place to another, clouds of dust flying around your feet. The scarf turns out to be a major distraction, as you're unused to being bound. It takes you a while to get the hang of it, but once you do, you make the fabric dance with you, flowing around your body with satisfying grace. The song becomes even faster, and you twist and turn, ruffles jumping, as you run, accompanied by the bells. Your feet start to hurt from the roughness of the floor, but you ignore it completely.

The song drops before the second verse, and you follow the rhythm to the floor. Using all the acrobatics you've picked up through the years, you begin to writhe in the sand, adding a clap and a stomp, bells jingling to the music. That's when you finally see him, crouched down right in front you, watching your dance with a tilt to his head and something terrifying swirling behind his eyes. It makes you falter in your choreography, makes your guts twist with a feeling too close to arousal.

Then, a glint of something silver catches your eye. It swishes through the air, and plants itself right between your legs. A knife. Sharp and polished to perfection, it embeds itself into the wooden floor, splinters flying from the impact. The scream you let out would make a Banshee cringe, as you push yourself as far as you can from the weapon

"Now, now" Buggy calls out across from you, his silhouette barely visible in the darkness" The show must go on, Hostage."

He sounds terrifying, like some demon from your darkest dreams. But the music still plays, and you'll be damned, if this is what takes you down. So, you wipe your forehead with the silk scarf, contort your body and stand up, straight as a chord. Now, it's no longer a simple performance. Your blood boils inside you, fear giving space to anger and, strangely, some sort of misplaced ambition. You want to impress him, you want to make him frustrated, angry. Dust flows around you, as you resume your dance, movements much more confident, violent even.

He stalks you from the shadows, producing another knife from his pocket. It shines, when he lets it fly in your direction, but you don't even flinch, when it swishes right by your ear. Then another, grazes your torso, as you bend backwards. This one nicks you right below your ribs. You can feel blood running down the length of your stomach. No matter. Your eyes still follow him, and he steps closer to the light. Another knife, inches from your left foot. And closer he stalks. You can see the tips of his shoes enter the spotlight.

That's all it takes for you to make a decision. You won't play this torturous game any longer, and as the music nears its climax, you close the remaining distance between the two of you, hands flying to the collar of his shirt, fisting it tightly.

You're panting, so is he, as you stare at each other, all innocence gone from your respective expressions. Fury, oh, fury, you're not sure if you want to kill him, or kiss him, and as he produces one last knife from his pocket, the sentiment seems to be mutual

"You started it" a growl frees itself from the depths of your chest, and under your tight grip on his shirt, he shudders violently.

There's heat pooling into those blue eyes irises of his, enveloping you completely in the moment. But then, his eyes follow your scowl down to your lips, and you realize, you've never tasted face paint. What an interesting experience it would be.

This moment of tension is broken almost immediately, as clouds of smoke fill the tent, seemingly out of nowhere. Suddenly, something yanks you backwards by your arm, something puts a knife in your hand and something yells for you to run. So you do, you turn from the Clown, his figure drowned in smoke, and you run as fast as you can, without looking back. He screams some words you're too scared to decipher, his voice breaking. A disembodied hand flies in your direction, but you dodge it expertly. One more tug from the hand gripping your arm, and you fall through a thick curtain.

The sun outside the Circus tent blinds you, nearly making you lose your footing, but a pair of strong arms hold you in place, and a familiar head of ginger hair turns around to face you

"Come on, the ship is not far" Nami yells, and you can't contain the smile blossoming on your lips.

The Hostage, freed at last… Or so she hopes

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #buggy the clown #my writing #besties idk how to do a taglist soooo

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sporadicthingcollection · 7 months

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Kiss, Marry, Kill: Part 2/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which Buggy saves your bacon and you continue to lie to yourself. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Explicit. Word Count: ~2.3k (of 5.3k) Warnings: Canon-typical violence, sexual fantasies, needles.

A/N: I was going to wait a few days to post this, build some anticipation, but y'all thirsty and I am a woman of the people.

---

Does Buggy feel a twinge of regret as he hauls ass out of Arlong Park? Sure, but not out of any sense of honor or decency or whatever. He just wishes he could have seen your lovely face one last time.

And he must have racked up some good karma recently, because he does indeed see your lovely face. It's curled up in a snarl as a fishman bears down upon you, but it's hot in a warrior princess kind of way.

You throw a right hook that collides with the fishman’s jaw, but no dice. He belts you right in the mouth. It lays you flat, but you take it like a champ and pop right back up.

He hates the idea of such a pretty face being marred in such an unfair fight. So he lends a hand.

Detaching said hand, he sends it floating toward the scuffle. A hard pinch on the ass throws the fishman off guard with a yelp.

You see the opening and slam him across the face once, twice, a third time. He collapses to the side. You waste no time jumping atop him, straddling his chest as you wallop his face into hamburger.

Still kinda hot.

Satisfied that he’s unconscious, you climb to your feet, resting your hands on your hips as you catch your breath. You run a hand through your hair, mussing it in a most handsome way.

Buggy saunters up behind you. Not particularly quietly, but you’re so winded you must not notice. He hovers his chin right over your shoulder. “Boo.”

You screech. Loudly. And whirl around and throw a haymaker that he only just catches with his remaining hand.

“Aw, c’mon,” he grumbles. “That any way to treat your coffee soulmate?”

You blink at him. “When’d you— How— What?”

He recalls his other hand. It reattaches with a little flourish. “Saved your life, babe. You're welcome.”

You look around, then frown. You give his chest a weak shove and stumble away. “I gotta… gotta find Usopp…!”

“Up-bup-bup. Not so fast.” He snags you by the back of the shirt and pulls you back. You whine in protest. "You owe me, Miss Sawbones.”

You scowl at him. “I didn’t ask for help.”

“No, but you got it. Which means…” He taps the tip of your nose. “You.” Tap. “Owe.” Tap. “Me.”

“Fine. Whatever. Cash it in later when I’m not in a rush.” You try to run again, and again he snatches you. “What’s your problem?!”

“My problem is that, if everything comes up Buggy, I’m never going to see you shitheels again.” He leans in close enough for his nose to bump yours. “But I don't like having unfinished business.”

Your eyes are so hot that steam might as well be coming out of your ears. “Just tell me what you want and fuck off.”

Finally, just what he wanted to hear. But what to ask for? You most certainly don't have money. And the map's a wash — even if you could get it, all your little friends would beat him black and blue. No, this has to be something that will get under your skin. Pull your pigtails a little. Hurt your pride.

Like a ray of divine inspiration, it hits him. He can't help but grin as he steps towards you. You take a step back. He matches it. Another step. Another. He backs you right into a tree.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing his finger down your jaw to tip your chin up. He pulls out his best imitation of that damn cook. "Give us a kiss, love."

Your face screws up in disgust. You slap his hand and try to jump away, only for him to grab your arm. Swinging you back around, he pulls you flush against him, his free hand on your waist. He revels in your warmth. He missed his body so much.

He puckers his lips. “C'mon, just a little smooch. Won’t even use tongue.”

You yank your arm from his grip and stare up at him. Grabbing him by the collar, you jerk him downwards. He braces himself for a slap. Or maybe a punch. That seems more your style.

But then you yank him forwards and his lips collide with yours and every joint, every tendon, every inch of sinew in his body locks up. It's all he can do not to topple into a thousand parts and pieces.

He's in shock. He never freezes. Not in the middle of a performance, not in the middle of a fight, and certainly not in the process of sweet talking a kiss out of a pretty little thing.

And yet, here he barely stands. Probably because it’s none of those things — there's no one around, the fight's over, and you're not a pretty little thing. You're a very beautiful grown woman.

His heart flutters against his ribs like a starved hummingbird barred from a flower. He wants more. He wants everything. He wants you.

Oh, this isn't good. It's never good when he catches feelings. Especially not this quickly. Never ends well for him.

...but maybe this time...

You pull away with a pop, but your grip on his waistcoat stays strong. Your mouth remains open, and you waggle your lower jaw, running your lip along your bottom teeth. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

He wants to lick them too.

You let out a yip as he swings you down and dips you low, one hand on your neck and the other hooked under your leg. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, twinkling like mischievous little stars.

He dives in for the encore before he can lock up again. Somewhere, some idiot sets off fireworks.

Oh, what a kiss. It’s the kind of kiss they write songs about. The kind that breaks fairy tale curses and turns frogs into princes. The kind that lonely sailors dream of, wishing on shooting stars for someone to love. Someone to laugh with, argue with, cry with, share a treasure with, share a bunk with, share a crown with. Someone to be his and his alone.

And then he feels it. A little nudge against his lips. He pulls away in surprise. “So much for no tongue.”

Smears of red lipstick and flakes of white greasepaint coat your lips. You lick them anyways. “I never agreed to that.” You throw your arms around his neck and force your way inside his mouth.

Now it's the sort of kiss that haunts the dreams of all men. Fiery. Slick. Dexterous. You stroke his teeth and nip his lips and fill his mouth in due measure. He can barely keep up.

The images come unbidden. You, lying across his bed, eyeing him like a tigress eyes her meal. Him, ripping your shirt off to get at those delicious breasts. You, bouncing on his cock, moaning like a whore. Him, flipping you over to fuck you more efficiently. You, begging and whining as you hit your peak. Him, climaxing so hard he sees lightning. You, resting your head against his chest as you drift off to sleep. Him, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair and whispering sweet little things that you won’t remember—

God damn, are all your kisses like this? Is this what you treat every man to? A lightning strike, a cool plunge, a searing brand, all in one? What kind of devil did you make a deal with to be so beguiling?

His head spins like a carousel as you pull away, from either shock or oxygen deprivation. Probably both.

Even more old paint covers your face. And you still don’t care. Your chest heaves and your gaze burns as you lick your chops.

While his brain processes what just happened, his poor, stupid heart takes the wheel and shoots its shot. “Wanna come with?” he rasps.

The smolder in your eyes snuffs out and your brows scrunch. “Huh?”

“Ditch the punks. Join up with me. It'll be great."

You blink a few times, eyes darting around. “Why?”

Why? A kiss like that and you’re asking why? “Group of weirdos like us could always use haircuts.”

That marvelous sound leaves your lips. First that glorious snnnrrrk and then that clattery laughter. Your face lights up with glee, your pretty teeth on full display. “Sell me on it.”

That’s a good sign. “Your own cabin. An operating theater. More treasure than you can carry and the best barber chair it can buy.”

Your smile grows. You slip a finger below his chin as you gaze up through your eyelashes. “Sweeten the pot.”

Oh, that’s a dangerous look. His mouth starts writing checks his ego certainly won’t let him cash. “Your own act. Your name in lights. And you can kiss me like that whenever you want."

Those eyes turn downright smoky. You say in a low, low voice, "Just kiss you?"

He almost drops you. All the blood rushing to his cheeks stops dead in his arteries. Then it waterfalls all the way back down.

He jerks you upwards and presses his lips to your ear. “I’ll screw you to the wall every night and eat your cunt like a wild dog every morning. How’s that sound?”

A little hiccup of a gasp escapes you. “Sounds— Sounds good to me, Captain.”

He's ready to throw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour when something whistles through the air above him. He looks up. Pain explodes across his jaw, popping his head off and sending the rest of him sprawling.

It takes him a moment to shake the stars out of his eyes and get the blood back where it belongs. The sniper kid stands a few yards away, quaking in his boots as he loads up his slingshot. Next to him, you scramble to your feet, clutching your makeup-smeared hand.

"Nice timing," you say to Usopp. You pat his shoulder, leaving a streak of white.

“Don’t mention it.” He swallows. "What do we do about him?”

“Iunno. Either kill him or let him buzz off.” You grip your wrist. “Yeow, that hurt…”

Buggy recalls his head to his neck and gives it a good shake. How dare you? How dare you use him like that? Give him feelings only to play with them? What kind of heartless bitch are you?

He's got quite the eloquent insult prepared, but it vanishes as soon as his mouth catches up to his thoughts. “You...!”

He launches his fist at you, but the kid fires off a round from his slingshot. Buggy yelps as a dozen pinpoints of pain pierce his palm, and he recalls it back. There are, in fact, a dozen pins buried deep in his hand. Ow.

He looks up, but the kid is speeding away. You're close behind, but you do glance back. He swears he sees a glint of remorse in your dark eyes, but you're gone moments after.

Alone. Again. After getting his emotions kicked around like a naughty puppy.

Fuck this. Fuck Rubber Boy. Fuck the sniper kid.

And, most of all, fuck you.

—-

You're no good at art, but you're the only person around here with steady hands, a sterile needle, and a willingness to inflict pain. Thus, redoing Nami's tattoo falls to you.

"So how was it?" she asks.

You're so focused on tracing the design onto her arm that you almost don't respond. "Not too bad, if I do say so myself. Might have to adjust the angle."

"Not that. The other thing."

The tangerine connects to the tangerine leaf. The tangerine leaf connects to the pinwheel spoke. “Yes. Of course. The other thing.”

“Heard you kissed the clown.”

The pinwheel spoke connects to the other spoke aaaand the pen slips from your fingers. Fortunately for you, it doesn’t screw up your careful tracing. “We’re gonna need a new sniper when I’m done keelhauling the old one.”

Nami laughs. It’s not bitter anymore, which you’re thankful for. Girl’s been through a lot. “C’mon, how was it?”

You scoff. “Sudden. Sloppy. Tasted like greasepaint and self-loathing.”

You leave out that you actually like all that. Surprise. Spit. Theatrics and desperation. What can you say? You’re a dumb bitch with a bad taste for pathetic men. You accepted this about yourself a long, long time ago.

If Nami picks up on your deception, she doesn’t let it show. “Thanks for taking one for the team, doc.”

Taking one for the team. Yeah. That’s what it was. A distraction. A diversion. You didn’t manipulate a madman’s feelings for you. He didn’t read you like a giant neon sign. Nor did you feel anything in that kiss. Not in any of them.

Certainly not the first time — that was impulse. Nor the second time — that one was thrust upon you. And the third time — brain was preoccupied with stalling for time so your cooch took over for a moment.

A moment that almost led to you abandoning your friends for a psycho, your conscience reminds you.

You shake the guilt off. “I’m not a doctor,” you mutter, “and let us never speak of this again.”

You swear she stares right into your soul. That she knows what you’ve done. But she nods. “Speak about what?”

It takes a few hours, a few curses, and a few tears, but the tattoo comes out great, if you do say so yourself.

And the entire time, you’re distracted by thoughts of a psycho with a very persuasive tongue.

---

Never had you on my mind

Now you're there all the time

Never knew what I missed until I I kissed ya

---

⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece live action #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes

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welcomehomediscordserver · 1 year

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(joking) CW: AGGRESSIVE SUPPORT AND LOVE FOR CLOWN FROM THE MOD TEAM AND MEMBERS OVER AT OUR DISCORD SERVER !!

I have found joy in your little show that I rarely find in things. The overwhelming love and care I have not just for these specific characters but for your art and talent as a whole is astounding. I want you to know that your community, the good parts of it, support you in any endeavor you choose to take. Although this project may have blasted your popularity you are 3-dimensional, you are much more than the creator of welcome home. You are a multi-medial, skilled, talented, and strong artistic being. Throughout all of this I have had nothing but the utmost respect for you. I will continue to no matter what. Just know we over at The Welcome Home discord server have been following your art closely and appreciating every detail! Do what is best for you clown, and continue to do so! -Reggie

It's been a while since something has grabbed me like this... Welcome Home is one of the most precious things I have ever seen, the creation has and will it always have a place in my heart. Thank You creator for sharing this piece of you heart with us. But your safety is more important, I hope that you'll be safe. -Jax

"dear clown, from the heart of one fan to many others, i find so much comfort in your project that i hope that even when things just like now are awful, you know that there's people simultaneously supporting you in every step of the way! We can wait however long you believe is necessary, you deserve to feel respected with your own passion project! And with that to a close, i wish you well! Thank you for giving us a grand welcome home!" -gremints

dear clown, you don't know me. i don't know you either. but everything you've been working on? it's changed my life. and i know that sounds cliche and silly, but it's true. you've inspired me to keep working on my own passion projects, to keep going. because of you, i have found a little community to call home. because of you, i have rekindled my love of silliness and color and creativity. i cannot thank you enough. without you, i would not have found the friends i have now. whatever you do, i want you to know that we're here to support it. and i hope that wherever you go, you also find home. - moth

Hi you dont know me but im Bug, one of the mods^^, I just want to start my message with this, Before I found welcome home, everything for me was going downhill, I had lost so much that was important to me in less than 2 weeks, I couldn't get out of bed and I wasn't doing my favorite things anymore. I couldn't even smile, My eyes were tired and heavy from crying. But thanks to you, Clown. Wonderful you..and your beautiful vibrant creation. With characters I saw and adored right away. I've smiled, danced, sang my favorite songs again, met new and amazing friends & began to draw again. I felt happiness faster than I thought I would again. A peace from your life helped heal some of mine and I'm grateful. Your creations bring me and so many others joy, But even then it as not as important as you. Yes It brings many smiles to people and i hope that doesn't sound to overwhelming.. But although we can't fix the issue people have caused you, we can't apologize for those who don't respect the boundaries you've set and we can't take back what others have done we want you to know that no matter what, the good of the community will always Have what's best for you in mind, in our server we make sure all rules are followed and you're privacy and mental health is respected. Take as much time as you need to take it all in, relax, do what's best for clown. 💚 take care of yourself before aything else. We thank you for all you've done already. -Boogerbug

EVERYTHING BELOW WAS SUBMITTED BY MEMBERS !!

Hi Clown! Just another rando passing through! While I have known about your artwork for a few years now, I never dove into it until Welcome Home became popular, and I genuinely love the vision you have. Your other artwork is also phenominal and genuinely inspires me, and it always has, even before I discovered the Welcome Home website. Your character designs are impeccable, the way you portray the muppets is genuinely awesome and brings back a lot of good memories, as I grew up watching puppet shows. Explains one reason I enjoy your work doesn't it?Despite making godly artwork, people forget that you are a human like the rest of us. Most people who become famous or popular because of something they have done experience this and it is unfortunate, but there are some of us that know you have a life and are already struggling. Take the time you need to rejuvinate yourself and try not to let these people get to you, as hard as it is to do, as even I still struggle with this daily. These are your creations, and you deserve to have control over what happens with them, and the disrespect this slowly growing fanbase has for your requests is terrible. Hoping that things eventually improve on your end, especially since you already aren't in a safe environment, something I also understand. I've already planned on throwing some bucks at you through Ko-Fi once I open my new bank account, and even if I cant, I still want to help prove that you are worthy and deserve better than this. You are incredibly talented and I hope to see Welcome Home and all of your other works of art flourish over time! - Sunnie/Mizo

Now onto the big reveal....

Our server members as well as a few mods all banded to together to create a collage showing our appreciation and support for Clown during these rough times. I hope this can serve as a reminder that despite the shitty people out there, there is a large community who still very much respects and enjoys every aspect of Clowns artwork.

An art collage put together by the moderators with art submitted by members.

Below are more signages as well as the usernames of everyone who participated:

Micah

Maximus

Beans

Wynn

Avery

Global

Vinnzhe

- and lastly, the rest of the welcome home discord server 🩷

@partycoffin

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thetopichot · 7 months

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•°♡ Date Prompts IV ♡°•

I was watching some tiktoks about people chatting with C.AI & it gave me some ideas, but hey, never forget, nothing is better than the real thing!

Going to the Lego store & making your own custom Lego person that looks like each other.

Doing a tarot reading on your partner/your partner doing a tarot reading on you. (psst psst Faust lovers hey hey come get yo man)

Traveling into abandoned area & discovering old writings/pictures/furniture/etc.

Creating a photo album together.

Trying to find Beyoncé by going to the Renaissance Faire but failed but also still had a good time anyway.

Going to a cosplay convention together & trying not to get lost.

TEA PARTY TEA PARTY TEA PARTY TEA PARTY-

Carving pumpkins to make a Halloween decoration of the headless horseman.

Going to a haunted house & pulling a Shaggy & Scooby the FUCK outta there.

Painting eachothers faces to look like clowns or if you're a real Chad, A MOTHERFUCKING JUGGALO!!!

☆ミ Author's Notes Underneath 👇 ☆ミ

🩷 - In all honesty, A.I. is pretty rad like I believe there is nothing wrong with it. BUT hugggge BUT. A.I. really shouldn't be doing everything for us, you know? A.I. is nice as a way to help gain inspiration, which can help turn into ideas. The problem is that people rely way too much on it & it's really annoying. Technology is cool for creativity but not cool for making creativity. You get what I mean? It's nice to art, but it's not nice if someone does the art for you & then you claim it as your own artwork.

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signedeclipse · 1 year

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Yo Yo Yo is me 😎 I was wondering if I could request hcs with Platonic! Douma x modern!reader (can be gn), just them two being chaotic besties and being menaces to society (perhaps terrorizing Akaza (affectionately, ily basketball head)), PAINTING DOUMA'S NAILS BLACK TO BE EMO AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHE I swear I cannot find any platonic douma x readers where y/n isn't a child 😭😭

Douma [& Reader]

In which you and Douma are best friends in the modern era.

You two met in your last year at elementary school, when he had transferred and pretty much asserted himself right next to you because you 'looked lonely!'

You were a quiet kid in your younger years, but after meeting the eccentric boy things changed for the worse better

He got you out of your shell, and you blossomed into the chaotic duo you were now, two outcasts in your last few years of upper secondary

You both came from two very different families; his being political figures and yours just average citizens with normal day to day jobs

But that's what interested him in you, you didn't care about his family and only what he brought to the table

You were known as the class clown duo, always pestering the teacher or stuck up students who took things too seriously

Douma took it further than you but you became a good mediator, keeping him in check and him getting you a stronger social circle

Sleep overs were held every weekend, usually at your place since your parents were usually away from home

You'd blast songs on the radio and dance around the room, or play a bunch of dumb wii games he would bring with him

Order pizza past midnight and paint your nails rainbow- though once you both went with black and his parents freaked out at him for not taking it off

As he got older, he had taken to darker colours; usually warm and monochrome, while you were more colourful

You were the one who inspired his spiked hair with black roots and red tips on his platinum blond hair, which his parents grounded him for but gave up after seeing it was permanent

You got him hair spray and showed him how to style it, and once a month you'd redye it for him while watching a movie

Douma convinces his rich family to take you on vacation with him so you get to have a lot of fun in tropical resorts in other countries, but most often Okinawa

Summers are the most fun, you'll visit all kinds of water parks and go exploring, sometimes sneaking into strangers barbeques for free food

You're both inseparable, and will likely try to get into the same university program, or at least share an apartment!

Authors Note - I missed you sm Galia!! Im sure I had another name for you but thats it now...sigh. I hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!

#douma #douma x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kny x reader #kny #kny headcanons #headcanons #x reader #reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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into-crazy · 2 years

Text

dance for you

Ledger!Joker x Female Reader one shot

Summary: You listen to songs containing very explicit lyrics, singing and dancing along until J comes in. Then you dance a little for him.

Warnings- mature language, reader enjoys explicit songs, slight voyeurism, seductive/erotic dancing, sexual innuendos, ages 18+

My love for tracks with dirty lyrics along with my own antics inspired this one💓

In your kitchen, you lean on the ceramic counter. Head bobbing to the beat coming from the speaker perched beside you up on the surface. You patiently wait for your chaotic clown- your Joker- to come home from whatever havoc wreaking activity he and his goons decided to partake in. Though you never really know when he'll be back. Could be a few minutes, hours, two.. maybe four in the morning. It's something you've grown accustomed to and it doesn't usually bother you. As long as he gets back. Back to you.

There are nights where J doesn't return due to various reasons. Which leads to you staying up and worrying of his whereabouts. Leading to the usual swarm of concerned questions.. Is he hurt? I sure hope not. Did the police capture him? Did the Bat? Don't even think that, he's fine. But say if they had.. could they have locked him up in Arkham? No, stop it you're just being paranoid.

On the rarest of occasions, he would call to inform you of his situations. Mostly because he was bored when he either had a brief moment to himself, or had to lay low in a secret location for a while. Other times it was to brag about how he so easily managed to sneak into a "heavily guarded" facility or how he'd escaped his pursuers clutches. Which every one of those calls you'd received meant that he was okay and alive. But even then, you'd still have trouble falling asleep. Tossing and turning without his warm presence beside you, those nights are indeed the loneliest.

You've found that the best way to deal with this sort of thing by is trying to remain a little more optimistic. You've known Joker for a while now, you are confident in him and his abilities. He's a strong and highly intelligent man. Whatever trouble he finds himself in, he figures a way out of it. Still, no matter how hopeful you are in his return, there's that slithering worry in the back of your mind. Since there will always be the possibility that he could never return.

The daylight outside has already faded away. Darkness drawn in completely, blanketing the city in its vast. The pleasing aroma of chicken alfredo invades the air as it finishes baking in the oven.

So lost are you into the sultry tune. Mumbling the lyrics as you scroll through the tracks on your phone in search of another. In turn, smiling and squealing like an idiot when you reach your most private song selection. The ones containing the most explicit, raunchiest lyrics which are only played when you're alone. First reason being the actual lyrics themselves, how obscene they are. Then secondly, because of your body's natural reaction to sing and move along to said tracks.

Soon as you selected one of these songs did you immediately start to hum and slightly sway your hips in time to the tune. Just before you know the song is about to pick up, you push away from the counter and strut to the open area in your living room. To you, this feels like the entrance to a live performance. Taking your phone with you to adjust the volume louder to your liking. These songs really do it for you. They bring out your inner stripper.

You catch your form in the mirror that hangs on the wall and instantly lock your eyes there. Sometimes it amazes you how your body can move like this. It's times like this where the confidence in your movements make you fall in love with yourself.

These songs really do it for you. Getting so excited for the next track, you are constantly clicking through the list without completely finishing any of the songs.

"Ugh yes, I love this song! This is my shit right here!" You howl, clapping your hands. This is your way of expressing your appreciation for such beauty and sexiness. Yelling so loud you think the artists can hear you. Even though none of them are actually here to witness it.

You were far too engaged in your own movements that you failed to notice Joker had come home already. He was standing by the corner at the end of the entryway. He hadn't been there long, probably only a few minutes. But when he came in, quite taken back was he by the surprising view that he had to stop and watch you. Without interrupting of course. Because he wanted to keep watching you move like that.

And he intends to do just that. For a little while longer at least.

You remain clueless to J's presence while you fixate on your dancing. The song that's currently playing has a faster tempo, and your body moves to match the beat of it. Alternating between shaking your hips and twerking your backside. You're getting more worked up by the second. Getting lost in the moment.

J looks at you with a prideful feeling in his chest. This is a side to you which he's never seen before. And now that he has discovered it, he takes this opportunity to relish the gravity of it. There are not a lot of things that have much of a value or importance to him. The list of things which do, he could probably count out on a single hand. And without question, are you reserved on one of those fingers.

He couldn't help but think about how gorgeous and free you are expressing yourself without a single care in the world. Unknowingly arousing him with the suggestive ways in which you move your body. Even more so with all of the dirty lyrics he's hearing you chant aloud.

Your hands find the hem of your shirt. You provocatively remove the top and toss it at the mirror. Only left in a bralette and a pair of some boxer shorts while you continue dancing.

Now the sight of that sent a lot of blood rushing straight to Joker's groin. His grip on the wall begins to tighten, finding it rather difficult to hold himself from pouncing on you then and there. To tear your clothes off and take you against that mirror on the wall. However, he resists the urge.

Soon, you come to a slow stop with your movements as a song quiets down. You take this time to laugh amusingly at the fun you're having.

That's when J interrupts.

"My, my, isn't this a pleasant sight to come home to."

"Holy shit! J-" The sudden sound of his voice makes you jump in surprise. "I didn't uh, I didn't see you come in."

"Hm, clearly. Seemed like you were enjoying yourself." He articulated the end of his statement. "You ah, always have this much fun when I'm not around?"

"Not always, only when I'm listening to- wait.." You were beginning to bow your head in embarrassment, but you quickly looked up at him. "How long have you been standing there? Were you- oh my god- how much of that did you see?"

"Quite a lot of it."

"Seriously? That's so embarrassing!" The realization that he actually did made you cringe. "Damn, you jerk!" You playfully punch his shoulder, "why didn't you say anything when you came in?"

He chuckles, "what? And miss the performance? I uh, think not. You're lucky I didn't interrupt ya sooner. Ya sure know how to move, doll."

"Stop it J, that's not funny."

"Ahh come on, bunny. I'm not yankin' ya tail." J acknowledges your pout. "I mean it. It was.. tempting."

You open your mouth to reply, but your lips quickly retract into a tight-lipped state. It wasn't helping that his stare was definitely making you feel hot and tense. You're stuck trying to come up with a response when the timer you set to remove the food from the oven finally beeps. You awkwardly motion towards it, "I have to get that."

"Sheesh, dinner and a show? Aren't I a lucky guy." J clicks his tongue and proceeds to loosely follow you towards the kitchen.

He slings off his purple trench coat and tosses it on top of the counter. Working on the buckles of his gloves, he closely observes your figure while you bend over to remove the tray. Taking into account the bralette you color-coordinated with the fitted pair of boxers. You wear men's boxers as shorts when you're home. They're quite soft and cozy. Plus you like how they hug in the right places, showing your curves. At first, you were afraid that J would find it odd that you wear men's underwear. However it didn't bother him at all, seeing as you're being comfortable.

After you set the tray down, you timidly ask him. "Did you really mean it? You weren't making fun of me?"

"Yep. Wasn't joking."

You offer a half smile, "well I'm glad you liked it."

The dish you've just pulled out needs time to cool before you can both eat it. Taking that into consideration, J knows exactly how to kill the time.

"C'mon, c'mon, then. Show me. I wanna see." He beckons you to follow.

A look of confusion crosses your face as you tilt your head to eye him quizzically. "Show you what?"

A devilish smirk appears on his face. "Show me more."

He yanks a chair and drags it into the open not too far. After placing in a position to face you, he sits down and quietly waits. It becomes obvious to you that he wants to see you dance, to put on a show for him.

So there he sits, expectantly. Patiently, even. Waiting for you. There is only the slight tapping of his finger against his thigh. Telling you that he will be lenient with you, but he won't sit here for long.

Laughing at his eagerness, you decide to indulge him. Why not? You're in the mood for it.

You turn up the volume back up and begin moving your hips in slow, sensual circles to the tune. Focusing more so on the floor before you than directly at him. Taking a peek at him occasionally. Admittedly, you're a bit shy. Mainly because he's looking at you with that stupid self-satisfied grin on his face. So to avoid looking at him, you turn around and close your eyes. You can't see him, but you know he's watching you and you know he likes what he sees. And that thought alone fills you with so much more confidence to keep going. To show him what you can do.

Then you fall back into that trance, where you start to really feel the music. You gradually pick up the pace of your movements. Bringing your arms lazily above your head and swaying your hips more provocatively. When you finally turn around, you find that J is not smirking anymore. Instead, he's gazing at you more seriously now. But that look in his menacing eyes gives away his intrigue.

You flash him a smile and grow bolder with your movements. Running your fingers through your hair while you look at him, biting down on your lip. A simple, yet seductive gesture. This is one of those moments where you get to be powerful and sexy. You trail your hands down the length of your body in time to the sway of your hips. In a swift movement, you turn around and bend over. Shaking your ass for him.

That's when you hear the low groan from J. Even over the music, you heard it.

Immediately after hearing that sound, you spin back to see that he's sat all the way up now. Watching your every move with an intense stare, his chest rising and falling with each breath of restraint. You drop to the floor on your knees and lean back to grind your hips in a way that you would ride someone. How you would ride him.

J gives you a half grin, lifting his hand slightly to motion you to come hither.

Returning your own grin, you place your hands on the floor and suggestively crawl to him. He thinks you're going to give in to him, but you're not done. No, you're not going to just yet. Wanting this to drag on more to the point where one of you snaps first. Until someone can't hold back any longer. And this time, it's not going to be you.

Once you reach his legs, you use them to bring yourself to your feet. Maintaining eye contact while you tantalizingly brushing your body against his. The heat radiating from him is utterly intoxicating. You absorb every bit of it as you circle around him. Drinking it down and getting drunk off of it. You graze your touch along J's torso. Rounding him, you strategically throw your leg over and straddle his lap.

His hands immediately go to grab and squeeze at your hips. Heavy lidded gaze boring his ravenous lust into your own. That feverish display of desire makes you want to do sinful things.

Joker hisses at the shift of your hips. "Fuck doll.. You know what ya do to me?"

"Yes I do." You whisper admittedly.

This is starting to get dangerous for the both of you. It won't be much longer until someone breaks.

You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Pulling him as close as possible and gyrating your hips against him. Keeping your movements fluid even in your aroused state.

The friction of your pelvis rubbing against the erection in his pants pulls a strained growl from his lips. You gasp back at him and stop moving. You're staring hard at each other, exchanging heavy breaths, and your ears fill with deafening static. There's a raging warmth in that space between your bodies. A force so raw you can taste it.

Joker is the first to dive in by yanking you fully against him to devour your lips. You instantly match his savagery. It's all teeth clashing, obscene tongue sucking, and harsh lip biting. He's not holding back anymore and neither are you.

There's no doubt that if you continue on like this in this chair, it'll lead to an activity that will end up breaking it. So J lifts you by your thighs as he stands, and carries you to the bedroom. Slamming the door shut with his foot to block out the loud volume of the song. The bass emitting low bumps that vibrate the walls around, adding to the intensity of the room. He tosses you onto the bed and quickly climbs on top of you. His movements are rough and hasty. Wasting no time in trying to be careful while he takes what he wants from you.

And you enjoy every wild second of it.

#into-crazy #heath ledger joker #tdk joker #the dark knight joker #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x y/n #joker x reader #joker x y/n #ledger!joker #ledger joker #the dark knight #fanfic

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morepoppy · 5 months

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yo this unemployment thing is rly inspiring me to start making the clown p0rn me and some of my besties have been dreaming about :3c

#also always inspired by the gorgeous ppl who already post clowncore content

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thatmooncake · 7 months

Note

yo I just wanted u to know that u inspired me to start writing platonic DCA x reader stuff and it’s genuinely SO much fun 2 write the clowns as my buddies!! My pals!! My friends!! :D *chews on them*

Yessss chewable friends! <3 Glad I could help, I can’t get enough of silly shenanigans! >:D

#fableasks

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gemini526sdumptruck · 10 months

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"Yo geeky!"

...Yeah after I made that Clown Man post a few days ago this was bound to happen lol. Also I really gotta stop getting attached to random characters so fast lol.

Anyway after looking at some other art and hcs for this guy, I was inspired to do my spin on him, because I think he just might be my favorite robot master.

I think he has the best boss lines in the entirety of Megaman 8 (tied with Aqua Man, his were really funny too lol). In fact, all the robot masters in MM8 have such goofy boss lines, I love them. I saw that MM8 wasn't really well liked, and I'm not a Megaman person so I'm not sure why that is, but come on, how could you hate this? This is gold. Gives them a heckton of personality too.

To me, Clown Man really gives off "little poo" energy, I love it. He's like a character that would still be goofy and cheerful, but also a fair bit annoying and might have a few screws loose, though still lovable.

I think in a few months time I'd like to digitalize him, but we'll see lol

#megaman #megaman 8 #rockman #mm8 #clown man #clownman #clown #clowns #clown character #traditional art #traditional illustration #megaman fanart #fanart #art #arting

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kaichan24 · 10 months

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2022–23 Japan Figure Skating Championships Women's SP Favorite Dresses (in my opinion).

Since I was searching for inspiration for a fic, I ended watching some figure skating competitions and writing this ranking.

1. Rika Kihira → The Fire Within by Jennifer Thomas: the combination between red and dark blue looked amazing. The gloves give elegance to the outfit, and the dress paired with the thighs look perfect. This is my favorite costume because it matches beautifully the program. it’s made me think in red petals flying on the wind.

2. Ikura Kushida → Red Violin by Ikuko Kawai (based on Concierto de Aranjuez by Joaquín Rodrigo): that’s how a red dress should look like, vibrant, alive, and powerful.

3. Miyabi Oba → Send in The Clowns (from Musical “A Little Night Music”) by Stephen Sondheim: while I usually don’t like white dresses, I liked this one because of the yellow parts, they bring a nice touch to a simple dress.

4. Marin Honda → Assassin’s Tango by John Powell: this is probably one of the most beautiful black dresses that I have watched in figure skating, it has personality, sexiness, exuberance, and sharpness. It’s suited the program very well.

5. Rino Matsuike → Papa Can You Hear Me? by Barbra Streisand: pastel colors are not my thing, however this dress looked soft, and sweet like a caress. the combination of soft pink and purple fading into white bring a sense of relaxation and calm.

6. Ami Nakai → I Got Rhythm by George Gershwin: the neon barbie pink dress looked funny and playfull, perfect for a junior skater. I think this dress matches the skater style really well, the first thing I notice about Ami is how happy she looked during her program and her dress shows this with its color and style.

7. Hina Takeno → Music from “SAYURI”: Becoming a Geisha, Going to School by John Williams: not my favorite but looked nice.

8. Rion Sumiyoshi → White Flowers Take Their Bath by Meredi: I liked the blue and white combination, not the style of the dress.

9. Yo Takagi → Sous le ciel de Paris, Milord by Édith Piaf: I liked the indigo color mostly. I think it has presence.

Source: Tumblr.com

#figure skating #sp costumes #2022–23 Japan Figure Skating Championships #rika kihira #ikura kushida #miyabi oba #marin honda #rino matsuike #ami nakai #hina takeno #rion sumiyoshi #yo takagi

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la-hannya · 1 year

Note

"SeSsRiN iS cAnOn, GeT a LiFe AnD mOvE oN"!!!! cit.

Rumiko Takahashi NEVER said that Yashahime/Sessrin are canon, Sessrinners are living in their own delusion as usual because litterally every canon source tells otherwise but of course they prefer to ignore this truth. Rumiko, after Yashahime was out clearly stated that Sess is Rin's "hogosha" aka guardian/parental figure and in her recent interview also clearly stated that her series, ALL OF THEM, are over. She never acknowledged Yashahime as Inuyasha's canon sequel, we were never told by whoever to consider Yashahime part of the Inuyasha canonical storyline as if Rumiko herself wrote it unlike J.K.Rowling did with the Curse of the Heir that unfortunately is canon. On the contrary, on the Yashahime OFFICIAL WEBSITE is clearly stated that Yashahime is nothing more than Sumisawa's au scenario. Even the author of the YH manga adaption explained on a Twitter post that his work is merely his PERSONAL INTERPRETATION of Yashahime. So basically it's a doujinshi inspired to a fanfiction. These Sessrin pedos stupidly believe that given that Rumiko approved these works means that they're magically turned canon, but just so you know she needs to approve everything related to Inuyasha because of legal rights. She also approved the movies and the drama cds (remember the Inukik one?) but this stuff is never canon and never will be. Toriyama also had to approve Dragon Ball GT but it's still not canon. The day Rumiko will wake up and publicly announce we're supposed to consider the YH series and manga as canon then it's gonna be set in stone, but canonical sources tell otherwise and contraddicting themselves now would embarass and make them look like clowns who're not able to make up their minds. So no, not gonna happen. Not now not ever, sorry. Also, Rumiko never remotely hinted in her CANON story that Sesshomaru and Rin would be lovers, nor that Sess's feelings for her were remotely romantic when he showed to care for her. On the contrary, she always called out pedophilic behaviors in her story, when Miroku asked that 11 yo girl to birth his kids, all the other characters were disgusted as it should be. And Rin had exactly the same age when Pedomaru proposed to her in that disgusting drama cd that again, wasn't from Rumiko but from Sunrise.

So... nice try pedos, but no, your garbage pedo ship will NEVER BE CANON. You can cry as much as you want, just enjoy your fanfiction/doujinshi crumbs and go back to the sewer were pedos like you belong 🤷‍♀️😘

There's an Inukik one???

And yes, that's on point with what we've been saying for the past 3 years and even before that.

Also, even if it's not canon I dunno why they can get so up in arms "Like really? That's gonna stop you from shipping your THING? That is not canon. You gonna die because of that?" If we go by Anastasia's source, (*a person who worked animating some parts of HnY*) and that first leak— it's implied they were more "mom" options on the table and that when present with the idea of "Rin" mostly everyone on the meeting rejected it except ofc you know whos that kept pushing the idea (and we know that backfired). So, let's say it was Kikyo, or Kagura, or Sara Asano, or even Kagome, or EVEN some random woman.

It would still have been non-canon... 🤷🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

Facts.

Unless RT says otherwise, it would still be non-canon.

And even if that had happened. I have a feeling they would be rustled at us and the studio for not choosing theirs. Tbh, why care about that? Even if you ignore the saucerib in HnY. The rest of the thing mostly f*cking sucks. They had HnY on the backburner for years after TFA and they couldn't come up with decent writing? They would've f*cked over my ship or the others like they did theirs and InuKag's. The people I know here can come up with something better in a one shot in one day. Hells, weren't they tagging #justiceforsessrin on twitter because they hated how it turned out at the ending?

At this point I don't really give much about HnY. As long as they stay in their little corner and stay off my sh*t I won't give Fs so like I've told em before:

"Block me".

I just want to focus on my headcanons and writing skills to Git Gud. I'm more mad that thanks to a guy with a Loli fetish this fandom isn't what it used to be.

#anti rinsess #anti sessrin #antisessrin #antiyashahime #anti pedosawa

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anonymousbimb0 · 8 months

Text

Yo ! I'm anonymousbimbo, tho for short , you can call me pip ! Some basic info -

I'm an artist, animator, writer, and content creator~♤

I'm demi-bisexual, my birthday is November 16th, im a senior, and not to brag.. tall 😈

My interests

- Attack on Titan 💙

- Castlevania 💙

- Inuyasha 💜

- Cowboybepbop 🩷

- Bee and puppycat 💜

- Across the spider-verse 💜

- Megamind 💙

- Dishonored 1 / 2 💙

- Terraria 💙

- Starbound 💜

- Stardew valley 💜💙

- Undertale 💙

- Deltarune 🩷

- Sims 4 🩷

- Genshit Impact (unfortunate) 🩷

- Mandela catalog 💙

- Horror / analog / ARG 💙💜

- Get schooled 💜

- Home sick 💜

- Clowns / jesters 💙

- My or others oc's 💙💙💙

🩷 = enjoyed / interested

💜 = like / watched fully

💙 = love / obsessed with

☆ ~ Here's some aesthetics I enjoy ~ ♤

Arcadecore 💜💙

Y2k (?) Earley internet 💙🩷

Angel / 777 💙💜

Synthwave / vaporwave 💙

Idk?? Beachwave?? Palmwave IDK 💜

Glitchcore 🩷

Dark academia 💙

As u can see.. I have a lot.. and there's many more !

Some creators I look up to / am inspired by !

-Apashe

-Neonpsych

-Solarqwq (accounts no longer exist)

-HoneyBeast

-Kelsey Animated

-Sodikken

-Felix colgrave

-Akisvague

-Slocotion

-astrono77153462

DNI (obv)

Racist, anti-LGBTQ , Anti-Religion, Neo-nazi, zoophile / pedophile ("MAPs"), proshipper, lolicon, NFT punks, AI "art", body shaming , graves specifically 🍐

BYI

I AM A MINOR (be cautious), I don't put TW / CW on a majority of my content unless it's gore , SA, SH, eyestrain. I curse a lot, A majority of my humor is ironic or satire,

If you have any problem please dm me personally so we can sort things out.

Feel free to reach out or ask about anything ! I truly do not mind and you aren't bothering ! (Unless ur being fucking weird and deranged obv)

Check out other socials here ~ ♤

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firecurls-27 · 1 year

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So you’ve done evil cupchal headcanons so why not for the whole family

Oooooooohhhhhhhhh good idea!

(Ps, I haven’t drawn evil kettle or mugan yet, but I will leave Headcanons for them!)

(These include cupchal and slight mugchal. Don’t like, don’t read.)

Elder kettle boil🫖🚬

He/him, aroace, (nobody knows how old he is, not even himself) 4/16/18??

- heavy chain smoker, he fucking REAKS.

- he’s a lot meaner than the original kettle.

- hangs out a lot at the craps table with the casino crew.

- the only reason he joined devils side is cause devil said there’s no rent for apartments in hell.

- still calls devil “Mrs meow meow” and devil fuckin HATES it-

- even if he’s a little meaner than his old self, he’s one of the only ones who will listen to mugman vile when he’s having a hard day….

Mugan glass🍼🔥

She/her, sexuality not yet defined, 6 month - 1 yo, 11/16/1933, speech impediment

- cuphead eve and mugman vile’s little sister

- very quiet, so you can’t hear her coming

- smuggler, she can steal anything she wants and no ones the wiser!

- baby bottle is her #1 nemesis.

- when she’s old enough, she wants to be part of her brother’s circus!

- loves her family to death, even if it is falling apart.

- carries a machete with her at all times, she hides it in her head-

Vessel shatter💸🗡

He/him, bisexual, 37 yo, 5/18/1896, ADHD(medicated), depression

- a lot quieter and less energetic that our beloved vessel.

- he and dice can’t even look at each other without crying.

- rethinking his marriage to thorn, she’s very mean to him. He misses the old her….rosé….god, even thinking that name makes him cry.

- *ahem* gay for Ludwig *ahem*-

- hates ms malice cause she’s just like him when he was a kid, so when she started dating eve, he got pretty pissed.

- mostly works at the casino in terms of money.

- he and vile don’t get along to well, but they would never hurt each other on purpose. Shatter cares about him to much to hurt him.

- also a heavy chain smoker, he’s trying to quit for his kids, he caught vile trying to smoke and it almost broke his heart.

Rosé thorn💔💋

She/her, polysexual, 36 yo, 6/22/1897,

- unlike our lovely rosé, thorn isn’t very kind to her family.

- she constantly pins the boys up against each other out of entertainment.

- her job is still singing but sometimes she’ll come home with someone else’s wallet, and a few kiss marks…

- is aware her husband isn’t happy anymore, and is really trying her best to be nicer. (By trying I mean not at all)

- she knows a good joke or two though! That’s where eve gets his humor!

- still a fashion queen✨

Mugman vile🎪🎭

He/she/they, bigender, pansexual, polyamorus, 12-15 yo, 2/18/1920, autistic, depression, anger issues

- big flirt, can date anyone he wants with just a wink.

- the Frank Sinatra of hell.

- stressed 24/7, but is too cocky to show it.

- ringmaster in him and his brother’s circus!

- he DID date malice for a while, but they didn’t really feel a “spark” y’know?

- part of him wants to get with ms malice again, so he asked his parents for help. Shatter said not to, because it’ll break eve’s heart, but thorn (because she was bored) said yes, that vile deserved her more than eve.

- so for a while, he did small gestures, flowers, chocolates, gifts, etc. but he clearly saw she loved eve more than anyone.

- he took his father’s advice, even if eve was a bafoon, he’s still his brother. Plus, I don’t think malice and vile would be very stable in marriage…

- he’ll find the right person some day! Maybe-

- remembers most of his past life, but not enough.

Cuphead eve (evil)💥🪗

He/they, transmasculine, bisexual, 10-13 yo, 9/29/1922, autistic, ADHD(unmedicated), anxiety, speech impediment,

- got him inspired by the mini joker (robin) from Batman beyond: return of the joker, a psychotic smile and SO much trauma-

- in the circus he and his brother runs, he’s a clown. he just doesn’t wear makeup. (Yet, I have to decide on the right design)

- very timid unlike our renowned cuphead, big people pleaser.

- stutters a lot, so he has trouble talking, but malice helps him out.

- has a bad habit of biting through his gloves when he’s nervous, so malice sews them up for him with fun patters. They’re his favorite pair.

- thinks he’s not good enough for malice…

- has very little memory of his past life, and stays awake at night trying to remember….

- one time, his old friends (Cora, Mac, canteen, buster) went to his carnival. After the performance, they met him in his dressing room trying to get him to remember them. He did, until big D walked in. He was telling eve that he had a good performance, that’s when his friends had to leave…..they come over every now and then trying to get him back to normal.

Bonus:

Ms chalice Ms malice🩰💕

She/they, demigirl, omnisexual, 11-14 yo (physically), 6/30/????, dyslexic, depression

- trapeze artist in the circus!

- when she started dating eve, she was just trying to get back at vile. But eve gave malice something not a lot of people gave her: kindness

- eve is literally the only person she’s nice too. Everyone else can go fuck themselves-

- she, boil and shatter are the only ones who fully remember their pasts.

- she and shatter constantly try to murder each other.

- she loves teaching eve and glass new dance moves!

- literally Devil’s BFF, she joins him in musical hour.

- honestly, she’s friends with a lot of people in hell!

(Note: I will add more if I get more ideas soon! Hope you like them! Which ones your favorite?)

#my post #ask firecurls #cuphead #cuphead: ddwtd #the cuphead show #cuphead au #cuphead oc #demitasse family au #bad end au #tw smoking #cupchal #evil cupchal

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