#Fucking clown of an ask

[rubberduckyrye]

you seem kind of callous...I don't know the whole story but friends are supposed to help each other

Hey anon. Anon.

You’re fucking right—you don’t know the whole story. And to be frank, I’m suspicious of this ask because who in their right might would send this to me after I made my posts.

Anyway.

Let me be clear.

This man trauma dumped on me and a friend constantly. He’s always talking about how awful life is and making suicidal comments. I keep telling him to get a therapist but he ignores me because of his own damn pride/learned helplessness. But despite despising therapists, he’s using me and my friend as free therapists to vent to—which is why I kept telling him to get professional help because this man desperately needs it.

He did not listen.

It came to a head over the weekend, where we had an argument where I made it very clear that the words he says makes us (me and my friend) constantly worry about his safety, how we aren’t trained professionals, ectect. He got all pissy because I told him that him apologizing for hating therapists felt insincere when he didn’t plan on changing that behavior, he said I was calling him a liar, and I had to leave the group chat after he reacted poorly to me finally caving and sending him a CBT workbook so he could “help himself.”

After that, he DMs me, we argue more, and we come to some sort of agreement where I stated some things needed to fucking change and he agreed. Great!

Except not great.

This man had been emotionally manipulating me by being nice to me in my personal DMs, but he was being vile about me in DMs with my friend. He insisted me telling him to get a therapist every time he trauma dumped on us was harassment, he kept weirdly misgendering me when referring to me from six or seven years ago (which, fun fact—I was Agender then too, so there’s no fucking excuse!) (Also context here: we all met in a RP, I drifted off and we stopped speaking six-seven years ago, only to reconnect recently), said that I was like his Ex (not as in I reminded him of an ex, no—that I was like an ex of his), and finally, he called me abusive because I committed the horrible crime of drifting away from him and my other friend as a friend and never DMed him back and he waited like the ~sad little puppy in the gutter-victim of my crime~ for seven years.

IN WHICH.

If this man really was so stuck on me and missed me, kinda weird how he had my email this whole fucking time and didn’t try to reach out these past six or seven years! Kind of weird for someone who blames me for him developing abandonment issues to not reach out in that span of time, don’t you think? That’s how we reconnected in the first place—I posted in the old RP ooc forum, and he scrambled to get into contact with me because I made a nostalgic post about being a stupid kid. He emailed me just to get my attention!

Anyway.

He said all of these sentiments to my friend AFTER we had our discussion. So he was sweet talking to me and shit talking about me to my friend, and called me abusive because I dared to just, drift away from him. He had a grudge against me. One that I knew he was going to hover over my damn head—especially since things “seemed fine” after the conversation. Had my friend not told me about what he said behind my back? Fuck. I’d be ignorant to how horrible of a guy he had become.

So I cut him off. I knew he wasn’t going to help himself and he was just going to, albeit unintentionally so, emotionally abuse me. And you know what he did after I did that?

He picked a fucking fight with my friend.

He took his hurt and upset out on her, whined the tragic woes of “Oh, I thought everything was fine now, Rye lied to me!” Despite literally calling me abusive in DMs with my friend earlier. I didn’t mention to him that my friend told me what he said, because I wanted to avoid him giving her his damn wrath—but it didn’t matter. They fought. And that’s where we are right now.

Sorry that I don’t want to be friends with someone who thinks of me as an abuser because I drifted away from him as a friend. Fuck, we weren’t even that close—and my friends have expressed concern over how weirdly obsessed he is with me.

But yes. You ARE supposed to help your friends, it’s not a bad thing to occasionally need to vent and cry and be held. However, he was not treating us like friends—he was treating us like free therapists who he could beat up emotionally and keep around because if we left, what if he hurt himself? Then when I came into the picture with my New Yorker “I take no shit” attitude, he didn’t like that, and got pissy because I refused to coddle him anymore.

You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.

You can try to help a friend, but if they don’t want to help themselves, then they’re just making you watch as they spiral down and get worse.

And once again I state: If you fucking play with Fire, You are Going to get Burned.

My feelings of genuine concern for this man were played with like a fiddle. Now that I know, he has to face the fire.

And anon, don’t send this shit to other people. It’s fucking rude at best, and comes off as victim blaming at worst.

So yeah. Fuck off with this shit.

[allurilove]

Yandere clown x you?

I hate clowns omhogmgkgmgkgk i’m like scared of them 😭😭

Yandere Clown x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

You’re at a carnival where you meet the hottest clown you have seen. A short drabble, and fucking in front of the funhouse mirror! Fem reader.

The only clown you have ever seen is the stereotypical white face, dramatic makeup, suspenders, and a huge red ball for a nose. They weren’t really your thing, and you were used to them waddling around with those big shoes, and honking their horns at you.

Since when did they have any sex appeal?

The moment they decided to take off their shirts, you understood why people were fawning over them. You came here to be scared—not wound up and aroused. He had fake blood splattered on their chest, their pants low enough that you see their v-line, and you see a tattoo that presumably continues even lower down his body. His face is painted white, red lipstick painted messily on his lips, and dark eyeliner making their eyes pop out. He carries a toy machete in one hand that looks unreasonably sharp.

He carried a small ice-cream cone in his other hand, and he noticed you eyeing it up and down. It was getting late, and all the little food stands were shutting down, and that treat in his hand was the only food you have seen in a while. You were quite hungry—borderline famished after screaming in haunted houses. He approached you, your mouth automatically just dropped open for him to feed you. The creamy vanilla melts around your tongue, and you can’t help but to lock eyes with him as you ate the ice cream. His lips part, his eyes becoming lidded as you were becoming a bit more risqué. It drips down to your chest, you pull back to see it follow the curve of your breast. He raised his brow, his tongue out as he bends down to lick it.

The moment his tongue was on your body— you became putty in his hands. He pulled you into the wonky mirrors exhibit, it’s a tiny tent with a bunch of mirrors that makes you look weird— and you watch as he bends you over, your reflection of your face is of a swirl. He pulled up your costume, his hand touching your ass before giving it a harsh slap. He pulled down your panties, just enough for him to align the head of his cock to your slit.

“Spread your legs a bit more for me…” He mumbled, his knee already pushing them more apart, and he pressed your face into the mirror. The clown slowly slid himself inside you, a slight hiss escaping his lips as you instinctively tensed around his cock. “Oh god…” He groaned, moving in and out of you.

He watched in marvel as you threw your hips back to meet his thrusts, a smirk on his face, “That’s right, fuck yourself on this dick. Show me how much you want it.”

“You feel amazing…” The clown wrapped your hair around his hand, he made you arch your back, and his cock hits into you so deliciously. Your eyes roll back, your thighs shaking and you try to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. You look weird—obviously—it made your body squiggly. But he thought you looked good— sexy even.

He has a scary wide smile, his other hand repeatedly smacking your ass as his thrusts become harsher. “You wanna cum? Tell me you wanna cum then.”

[bruciemilf]

Something Something, Joker’s whole thing in DC is that he does irredeemable, awful bullshit, which he always minimizes by calling it a joke, regardless of how critical the damage is to people around him and never takes accountability for it, something something literally the plot always tells you he’s an absolute loser for that and aspiring to imitate that behavior makes you a loser, something something comedy should be an outlet for laughter and pain, not taking joy in hurting someone else

[fearforthestorm]

breaking fucking news: misgendering real people is still bad even if you're doing it to cis people!

[the-kipsabian]

saw a take so fucking rancid on twitter i almost deleted the entire app from my phone jesus fucking christ

first of all ao3 is an archive site. this is like going to the library and saying "oh i dont like this" on every piece of media you find that you dislike and thinking they should be stamped with some sort of a marker just cause you didnt like it

you can always click back and leave. fic writers owe you nothing to explain themselves and their creations. if they have mistagged or miscategorized fics, then i understand, however there are report tools for that instead of yelling at the artist tbh

im not saying free works arent necessarily above criticism. but this is just. fucking wild. its common courtesy to just enjoy stuff (or fucking leave if you dont, the back button is free) and if the artist specifically asks for critiques, then give one - constructive that is, shitting all over someones work is not proper criticism, mind you

i just find it fucking wild people are treating art and archive sites as social media these days like this and everything needs to be policed and ~catered to the algorithm~ like. no. ao3 doesnt have an algorithm. you should be able to fucking tell what you like and what you dont like and steer away from that kind of content and let people fucking be with their art. they dont owe you anything (except trigger warnings i'd argue, but i know some people disagree with that as well for some reason), and imagine how much more energy you'd have if you only engaged with things you liked and spent time looking at instead of going to places where you dont enjoy yourself. let alone spending time telling other people you dont enjoy what they enjoy. what a fucking life

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

"You said you love me exactly the way I am"

[genderqueerpositivity]

People are allowed to decide who they can and cannot give their services to, you fucking freak (coming FROM a gay person) you are all so unbelievably PATHETIC for acting like wedding designers refusing to do shit for us becos of our sexuality is some massive hit to lgbt rights. You all don’t seem to understand we had it much worse, and that this bill is allowing people behavioural freedom. We should be grateful for it, it’s not right to force people to do things they don’t want to with their own businesses.

It's not an object to me, because I would never deliberately hire a Christian to design anything if my queer heathen ass were getting married.

And that isn't the point, because what I know is this: legally this is purely another step towards removing nondiscrimination protections entirely.

Do you really think that they're going to stop at websites and wedding cakes?

It's about removing legal protections against discrimination in all areas for the entire LGBTQ+ community. This court case was never about a wedding website, the designer in question was never hired to design a website for a gay couple--this case was entirely about attacking and weaking a nondiscrimination law.

I hope you get your wish.

And when your Christian landlord evicts you, when you are fired from your job for posting a wedding picture of yourself and your partner on social media, when your children are denied opportunities for having same gender married parents, when your family is refused service in restaurants, when doctors refuse to treat you, when the pharmacy refuses to fill your prescriptions, and when the EMTs let you die on the street because saving your gay ass is an affront to Jesus...

I hope you remember to feel grateful.

[wordy-little-witch]

Ya know what occurs to me?

Karai Bari is in the New World.

Crocodile and Mihawk only showed up after the establishment of the delivery service.

Buggy was in Paradise. Marineford would have been in Paradise, I think, or at least Buggy's crew still was.

He doesn't have conquerors to cross the calm belt.

So... to get to the New World and set up shop, he'd have to have gone through Fishman Island, wouldn't he? So he'd had to have gotten the ship coated.

He'd likely have had to face Rayleigh or at least he'd have anticipated it - maybe Shanks even mentions Rayleigh hanging around there, maybe even mentioning him having NEVER missed Shanks passing through....

So when Buggy goes when Buggy expects to be found and claims to be dreading it and is but is also so hopeful so scared so broken so hesitant he's got a few different courses figured for how this will go down.

Only.... Rayleigh isn't there. Shakky is. She just directs them to another coater. Buggy fights himself, wants to ask, doesn't want to beg, and-

Shakky answers the question he couldn'tdislodge from his throat. "Sorry, baby blue, Ray's just working on something real important. You know how it is."

He does. He does know how it is. Important, huh? That's fine. It's probably a job. It's probably not that big of a deal that dad master Rayleigh is preoccupied. Buggy shouldn't have expected the man to drop everything and come running why did he think that, Rayleigh never did it before, not even Shanks' assurance he'd leave a message for Rayleigh would change much, and fuck he can't afford to cry so-

So Buggy gets the ship coated. It's not as pricy as he'd worried. He navigates them down, can even bring himself to smile at the wide eyed wonder from the rest. It's nice. He's fine here - these are his people. He's okay, really, and he'll be able to let this go or shove it into that nameless box in his head and heart soon enough. He just has to ride the wave, you know-?

Only no. Not really. Because a newspaper lands in his hands. And his brain is racing.

Because Rayleigh wasn't at Sabaody at all. He was with Strawhat. He was training Strawhat. He showed up, after the war, so close to the conflict, to train the kid. Rayleigh is fast, but not that fast. He'd have to have left around a week before Buggy even arrived. Shanks had assured him Rayleigh was there when he dropped by ((two weeks ago)). He knew because his brother had wrapped him in his arm and tears were shed, voices were raised and hearts were broken, wounds torn open to drain the festering rot and the healing hurt, it hurt then, it hurts now, it will hurt and hurt and hurt, because Buggy had pushed the Big Top to her near limits just to reach the archipelago that his former guardian ex-father previous family that Rayleigh called home. Shanks had called him, said he'd dropped the message and Rayleigh had chuckled and nodded and Buggy wanted to see his dad because there were still so many scars that had to be seen and acknowledged and Buggy himself wasn't even fully recovered physically but emotionally he had to do it, had to take the step and try because vulnerability brought the best and worst of him out, because he lost a brother and gained him back and he wanted for his father, at least one of them.

But Strawhat was on that front page. And Rayleigh was behind him, smiling, warm, proud, happy, and - Buggy aches. He's angry. He's livid. A week or so, by his estimate, for Rayleigh to find him and get there to the war ground. A week or so because Rayleigh was old but he was still painfully fast. In a week or so, the older man hunted down a boy he'd possibly met once or twice in passing. A week or so and The Dark King showed up to bring another strawhat wearing monster of epic proportions under his wing, had made impressive time in finding the kid, making the plan, getting to the navy hq, getting out, and that's accounting for the article writing, printing, and distribution.

A week or so to find a bright little sunshine boy he barely knew when one he raised rotted in a cell for months on end.

Busy with something real important, he recalled Shakky saying.

His chest burned for a moment, hot and wild and unyielding - and just as suddenly, the fire was gone. He was tired. He was so fucking tired. His injuries throbbed, his head hurt, his scars itched. He sighed, set the paper aside and curled impossibly small into his chaise lounge with a teary chuckle as he gripped his hair and tried to silence the keen building in his chest. He cursed himself for it, bitter and angry.

After all, he should be used to being outshined, out classed and out loved by energetic boys with bright smiles in little wicker crowns.

Story of his life

He is unaware of the many eyes on him, of the people Plotting and Arranging things on their own time. Their captain is the best - uncommon, unexpected, temperamental though he is, he is everything everyone needs him to be because it's the only thing he knows how to do. They see the seams in his mask and performance, and they ache to pay back the pain left on their captain, their boss, their leader and friend. Buggy pirates stick together, freaks and weirdos united - and nobody is allowed to hurt their captain without some serious followup.

[introspectivememories]

every time the red-hair pirates get a new crew member, benn sits them down for a Talk. rules of the ship, what kind of behavior is expected, what kind of behavior is tolerated, and what kind of behavior will get you keelhauled. near the end of the talk, benn lays down the 3 most important rules:

there is nothing i can do about the homoerotic relationship capt has with the clown

trust in capt always. even if he doesn't look like it, capt has plan. believe always.

there is nothing you can do about the homoerotic relationship capt has with the clown

and as always, the newbie gets it into their head that they can fix capt and the clown and sets up some convoluted plan to get the two back together again. and as always it fails because capt and the clown will dead and rotting in the ground before they ever Talk to each other properly. benn needs a fucking pay raise.

[eatyourmaker]

Pssst

Would you draw mr clown making a balloon animal for a terrified jack?

Sensitivity training for Jack's trigger happy ass

Also—

This brings up a memory for me. I might draw it as these two cause it fits

[inkskinned]

maybe i'm a bitch but if i hear you go out of your way to judge someone's weight, i immediately lose trust in you & will probably forever find you a little unbearable . yes also the little floating bar over my head will start reading [hostile]. this is natural and u caused it.

[complete-clownery]

your Honour,

the children:

[mapicccc]

[hood-ex]

Dick with the Supers today:

Nightwing #104

Nightwing #104

[ringosmistress]

[thearvariblues]

"Be a good girl, don't engage, just block, don't-"

Oh, screw it.

"It's clear that Build always hAtED Bible!"

Yeah, you're totally right.

so much hatred!

so much mutual discomfort!

they could barely stand each other!

Listen to me now, cunts, and listen well. You're free to think whatever you want about the way it ended, you're free to think whatever you want about Build as he is now, or Bible as he is now - god knows I have opinions about him and his choices.

You know what you don't get to do? You don't get to rewrite history just to fit your current worldview. You don't get to create an "oh it aLWaYs sucked!" narrative only to justify your opinions. You don't get to build (no pun intended) an entire different universe where those two men were somehow always uncomfortable with each other. You just fucking don't.

You don't need to, you know. You can just accept that it was nice and that the way it ended fucking sucked. You don't need to shit on what once was to make yourself feel better now. You can be as mad and bitter and petty as you want, but that's it.

Don't attempt to change the past just to somehow feel better about the present. You know you're fucking lying to yourself.

If you want to shit on something, shit on the present. Shit on the present as much as you want. Let the hatred flow through you! I know I do, and guess what, sometimes it even helps. But don't shit on what was once good and try to twist it into a dark parody of itself just so you don't have to feel like a cunt because you hate Build or something.

You are a cunt. Stop looking for excuses and embrace it!