#“HE IS A FUGLY SLUT”

[cassandrva]

literally everyone talking about lymond throughout the game of kings

[bklynmusicnerd]

Yeahhh after the Chelsie one, I'm not convinced that this isn't just more of Tucker wasting the AI Instigator power and basically turning it into a burn book to let out his Angela grievances.

And honestly anyone who voted for Tucker expecting him not to be absolutely petty with the power has not been paying attention.

[prncssguya]

marvel and gravik count your days

[choccybroccoli]

Long, tan and handsome

[pregnantsecondo]

Dishonored but the only reason the loyalists betrayed Corvo is bc of some mean girls type of shit.

[medusas-daughter]

Lord Oscar told Daemon "you will have our armies with a side of humble pie or you will have nothing, King Consort" and then he said "you're the nastiest skank bitch I've ever met I fucking hate you you fugly slut" and then he spat on him I saw it with my own eyes meanwhile Lord Simon was standing there having ptsd flashbacks to the last time the crazy dragon dude lost his temper and strangled him

[gutsby]

Wingman

Pairing: Himbo!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Warnings: 18+. Period crackfic starring Himbo!Joel—don’t take it too seriously. R has a uterus that hates her. Mentions of blood, cramps, & hangover-induced puking. Dirty talk, f!masturbation. One (1) Mean Girls reference.

Word count: 1.7k

You were fucked ten ways to Wednesday if you didn’t get your hands on some soap, a steamer, and a supersized box of maxi-pads in the span of the next eleven minutes.

Joel Miller moved like molasses on a flat slab of granite.

“WILL YOU HURRY— THE FUCK— UP?”

Your cheeks were hot. The night air was cold.

Every other word that managed to claw out of your throat was punctuated by a breath—your stomach clenched, and the sex organ below it was in hysterics.

Joel continued to lace up his loafer, clumsy as ever.

“O-kay, okay,” he hummed, “Steamer, soap, and, uh…”

“Pads!”

“Uh-huh. Right. So what kinda…blood stuff is it, again?”

The words were like an aspersion on his tongue. At the ripe old age of forty-seven, Joel still hadn’t quite learned to jibe with the menstrual product lingo, and it showed.

“Heavy flow. Any brand. With wings,” you hissed.

“Boneless or traditional?”

And if he hadn’t been standing outside the truck, foot propped up against the driver’s seat while he tied his shoe, you likely would’ve smacked him upside the head. The glare you gave him was sufficiently vicious to extinguish the smirk, though. Your hand made a fist in the front of your dress, and you groaned, leaning inward.

Joel got the picture and finished his bunny ears quick.

“Sorry.”

Then, a little more sheepish as he straightened up,

“I’m goin’. Be just a minute.”

And he was off.

Your body curled into a ball as soon as he left. It cried in pain, to nothing and no one around but that fugly slut, the nastiest skank bitch you’d ever met, your uterus.

There was no way you and Joel were making it to this rehearsal dinner. You needed to be at the venue by 7:00, the clock on the dash read 6:11, and you were, currently, twenty miles shy of Fredericksburg with a rag between your legs and your best friend scouring the local H-E-B.

That afternoon you’d been running late, so of course you’d thrown on your thin, satin, pre-wedding-ready dress before you left—and forgotten a change of clothes. Joel had been hungover from all the batshit bachelor party antics, so of course you’d had to stop three times along the way just so he could throw up on the side of the road. And, though your friend was many, many things, discreet was not one of them, so of course he’d told you, point-blank, when he saw you reaching for something in the backseat with your butt sticking up:

“You been pissin’ tomato juice or somethin’?”

And you’d looked back in abject horror.

Of course your period had come a week early and made you bleed straight through your bright yellow dress.

Maria was your best friend. You were her maid of honor. Tommy’s groomsmen happened to be the most fuckable bunch you’d ever seen—save for Joel—so there was no way you’d be caught dead at that dinner with the flag of Japan on your ass. And Maria had bought the dress just for you, so you felt like you had to get this bloodstain out.

You lifted your head to peer out the window. Even with the help of a fistful of ibuprofen, you could barely move.

6:29

“Dude, where are you?!”

It was like your phone and the FaceTime call to Joel had just materialized on their own. The man on the screen was blinking slow. Ogling something in front of him.

“So ‘L’ stands for…long?” he said after a beat.

“No, that’s light, Joel, I need a heavy one.”

“This one’s got cardboard in it, I think.”

“That’s a tampon applicator, dipshit.”

In a blink, Joel’s eyes flitted to his phone. His nostrils flared, and he met your gaze with a scowl of his own.

“Well how the hell am I supposed to know that? Only stuck two— three things in a pussy before and it sure as fuck wasn’t cotton,” he griped, and if he were any less mature he likely would’ve rolled his eyes. Drama king.

You winced as another cramp rolled through you. You shook your head and tried to regain your composure.

“Just find a heavy-flow. pad. with wings. for me. Please.”

Joel sighed and turned back to the shelf, eyes searching.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was. You had no doubt Joel had never willingly touched a pussy product before in his life, so the road ahead was treacherous. Silently, you felt the urge to tell him he had no business being in pussy at all if he didn’t bother to learn what came out of one every month, but you let him cook.

His dark, greyish brows drew together in concentration. He leaned forward and reached for a box. Then stopped.

Went low to grab another, before pausing to show you.

“Very close, Joel. That’s a pantyliner.”

You felt somewhat like a mother showing a headstrong four-year-old how to copy shapes onto paper. No, darling, that’s a diva cup—and be careful with that crayon. Joel stood and he stewed and, by the look in his eyes, you’d already resigned yourself to another ten minutes of this back-and-forth rummaging at least.

Then you shifted in your seat, pushing your legs down a bit. They rubbed, of course. In spite of the pain that had seized your whole lower half, you felt a sweet, dull pulse.

You stared hard at Joel’s face on-screen to make sure he hadn’t seen it in yours, but damn that friction felt nice.

Sensitivity elevated with the influx of hormones, no doubt, you sat tight and tried to enjoy the feeling on purpose for a moment. You slowly sucked in a breath.

“Aw, hell, there’s just too many’a these damn boxes.”

You flexed your thigh muscles and let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how y’all do it,” Joel grumbled.

Keep looking, Miller. Just keep looking.

Slowly, your hips began to stir, and one small grain of pleasure gave way to a jolt—a twist in the pit of your belly that made the pain less grating. You leaned into it more.

Holding your phone, you could feel when Joel let out a frustrated groan. The sound low and almost enticing.

Wait.

Wait.

“Gross,” you said out loud, half-whispered.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was one of your closest friends; a man who loved beer die, Pall Malls, and Keith Whitley like nobody’s business and gave suffocating bear hugs whenever he was sweaty just to gross you out. You weren’t supposed to find men like that attractive.

But when the grit of his voice was just so nice…

“What?” Joel stopped to look down again.

“What?” you shot back, instantly.

A frown tugged at his lips.

“What’s ‘gross’? Me?”

Not…exactly, no.

More disgusted with yourself than anyone else, you clamped your legs together and shook your head. You tried to swallow, as if the action might suck the pleasure down with it, but the hot, throbbing sensation only grew.

You were practically grinding into the towel that had been stuffed between your thighs when you heard:

“Wings!”

An exceptionally proud Joel displayed a box of extra heavy-duty maxi-pads, with wings. He was grinning.

You weren’t sure if you thanked him next, congratulated the man, or what. You probably strung some words together and tried to return the smile as best you could, but who knew? The next thing you saw was that the line had gone dead, the truck was silent, and all that could be heard above the hum of the engine were your moans.

You braced yourself against the seat and rolled your hips even harder. Out of habit, you caught your lip between your teeth to prevent a louder sound from escaping, but then you remembered there was no one to hear you but you—for now. Your palm pressed flat on the dashboard, your knees squeezed even closer, and your vision flooded with soft, minuscule pinpricks of an all-too-familiar hue.

The only thing new to you here was Joel—the thought of him had never crossed your mind in moments like these.

But now you were closing your eyes, humping the seat with nothing between your body and the old, weathered upholstery but a scrap of fabric. And you were moaning his name. Imagining a face that was littered with coarse, grey stubble—you might’ve teased him for that once or twice before—and lips that were soft. So soft against your own that you wouldn’t think twice if he tried to slip his tongue inside and hold the sides of your face as he filled your cunt to the brim. In fact, Joel’s mouth would be a welcome distraction. Knowing how foul he was in even friendly confab, he’d undoubtedly be whispering the most vile things in your ear while he fucked you.

Reminding you, quietly, that you made such a pretty cocksleeve for him—why didn’t we try this sooner?— and how you’d be the sweetest thing if you just gave his cock another squeeze and made yourself cum all over it.

The mental image of that alone was inducement enough.

You felt a hot, euphoric band of something start to give way inside you. It tightened up, twisted—then snapped. Your mouth fell open and your thighs clenched tighter, grinding desperately in tandem with a pace you’d hoped Joel might’ve set if he were laying there underneath you. You clung to one last thought of him gripping your hips and bruising your walls with the force of his cock driving in and out, over and over again until, eventually, his cum was leaking out through each fluid thrusting movement. It was all your body could take, conjuring thoughts of his load spilling into you and onto him in warm, wet, sticky—

Whistling.

Someone was whistling outside. Walking up to the truck.

You were still coming down from the staggering heights of your climax when the driver’s side door swung open. You blinked furiously, as though to drive all the filth and depravity and need from your eyes before he could see.

It didn’t matter.

Joel was too amped up off a white plastic baggy to be concerned with much else as he plopped down beside you and smiled—beamed, really. Completely oblivious.

Your extremities were still twitching with the residuum of bliss when he reached for your hand. His eyes somehow warmer than they’d been all that day, they sparkled and shone and crinkled at the corners in a way that seemed to say the words before his mouth had uttered a sound.

“I got three boxes to be safe…”

Joel was really too sweet.

“…and some chocolate for your cramps…”

Always so considerate.

“…and you look real pretty when you cum, by the way.”

This motherfucker.

[luci-on-the-moon]

"Maurice cole is the nastiest skank bitch I've ever met. Do NOT trust him. He is a FUGLY SLUT"

If you get the "mean girls" reference, I love you 😘❣️

More art you know where

[eternalsa2z]

The Guestbook

Porter wasn't invited to the Lovedoll wedding - but he became obsessed with the highly publicized event that promised to provide excitement. Hot bimbo starlets? High end trophy bridesmaids? A gorgeous lesbian couple with absolute 10s for friends? It wasn't just dream wedding...it was a dream for a man like him.

So he decided to crash the event. It was even easier than he thought. The bimbos had all that money and they didn't even think to buy any security? He was ready to march on into the venue ahead of the wedding march when something caught his eye.

It was the guestbook. He had noticed everyone signing it before disappearing through a side door. Porter felt a strange obligation to sign his name. A way to hide in plain sight...or perhaps a way to brag and prove he had snuck in. Before he knew it he was in front of the open red book.

Grasping the pink, almost wand-like pen, he began to sign his name with a flourish. But as the pink sparkly ink flowed, he found his hand moving of it's own accord. Signing P-O-R-S-C-H-A P-A-R-T-A-Y as long pink acrylic nails grew around the pen.

That wasn't the only change. As the ink dried, his identity died. Porscha took over and she was aghast to see that she wasn't properly dressed for the wedding! Instinctively she new she needed to stop in the anteroom to the side and see if she could find something more fitting.

A little while later and Porscha was strutting back onto the scene. Her fugly suit had transformed into a skin-tight minidress. Short buzzed hair grew darker and longer thanks to high-end extensions. Her body was also banging thanks to huge plastic tits, noticeable BBL, and an entire salon supply of fake tan slathered onto her curvy body. It was a dream look for a doll like her.

Porter's fake identity had became a real one with a really fake look. Porscha fit in perfectly with all the bodacious bimbos and salacious sluts that the Lovedolls were friends with - in fact it's why they had ensured that she was invited and would show up! She was tops on their guest list and, as her last name implied, she was ready to par-tay!

[ziggyzolch]

Queen Bee-atch Ⅶ (Regina George x Reader)

Warnings: None, lighthearted chapter tbh

✮✮✮

The sound of a marker cap popping open echoes across the walls of Regina’s room. Squeaking could be heard from the other side of the house with how aggressively she was writing.

She ignores her mothers insistent knocking as she pulls out a pair of scissors and cuts the photo of her and Cady in half. Pulling out a glue stick, Regina aggressively sticks the photo in the middle of the page.

She takes a deep breath, calming herself down and sitting back to admire her work. ’This girl is the nastiest skank bitch I've ever met. Do not trust her. She is a fugly slut!’ Captioned above a picture of her stuck in the burn book.

Those byotches had no idea what was coming. ✮✮✮

This party was worse than anything she could’ve imagined. Someone broke her mothers vase, Gretchen and Karen wouldn’t leave her alone, and, worst of all, she threw up on Aaron!

“Aaron, wait!” Her heels were digging into the backs of her feet as she chased after her longtime crush, wiping the puke off her mouth.

Aaron angled his body towards Cady, walking backwards and pointing his finger at her, “You are a clone of Regina.”

Cady sighed before perking up, “Call me!”

Aaron ignored her, wiping her vomit off his shirt as he disappeared around the corner.

At the sound of a motor, Cady scrunches her eyebrows, turning towards the source of the mechanical whirring. She curses under her breath as she watches you, Damien, and Janis approach on a motor scooter.

“You dirty little liar.” Janis jumps off of the scooter, stomping towards Cady while you and Damien spin around, unable to stop the scooter.

“I’m sorry! I can explain-”

“Explain how you didn’t invite us to your party?”

You pipe up, “Janis, I’m getting dizzy!”

She glares at you as Cady replies, “I had to act like I hated you! You told me to pretend to be plastic.”

“This,” Janis looks Cady up and down, “Is not pretend. You’re plastic. Cold, hard, shiny plastic.”

Damien warns Janis about his curfew before she continues, “Did you have an awesome time? Did you drink awesome shooters and listen to awesome music and just sit around soaking up each others awesomeness?”

Cady’s face contorts in anger, “You made me like this! All because of some bullshit petty 6th grade drama!”

Janis scoffs, raising her arms up in exasperation, “Oh my god! At least me and Regina George know we’re mean. You still try to act all innocent! You got what you wanted. Aaron broke up with Regina, yet you still mess with her. You know why? Because you’re a mean girl! You’re a bitch!” She throws her artwork at Cady, “You can have this, it won a prize.”

Janis gets back onto the moving scooter, almost falling off when you shake the vehicle getting off. Cady’s eyes widen when she sees you rushing towards her, preparing herself for another scolding when you run past her into the house party. Janis and Damien groan, turning back around and spinning.

Cady’s eyes widen when she catches you walking out with two half full bottles of vodka.

“Alright, let’s go.” You jump back onto Damien's lap, adjusting your hold on the two bottles. Cady runs her hands through her hair, letting out a breath. She starts walking back into her house when she hears Damien's voice,

“I want my pink shirt back!”

✮✮✮

“Wanda literally solos all of…” You trail off when a group of girls rush past you gasping at their phones as you walk through the doors. You and Janis turn to each other in confusion before Damien runs up to both of you and drags you further into school. “Check what I sent you!”

Janis pulls out her phone at Damien’s request, her jaw dropping, “No. Fucking. Way.”

She turns her phone towards you. Squinting your eyes at her screen, you read,

“Damien, too gay to…function?! That's only okay when we say it!” You turn away from her phone, pointing and watching the commotion with your friends. Looking around, you ask,

“Have you guys seen Regina?”

Before either could answer, the sound of the fire alarm and sprinklers going off startles everyone.

“All junior girls report to the gymnasium, immediately! Immediately!”

Damien puts on his hood, before walking alongside you and Janis to the gym. Taking your seats on the bleachers at the back, you open your phone to look through the different pages of the burn book.

“Hah! Check this out: ‘Trang Pak is a grotsky little byotch’. It’s like a foreign language.” Janis and Damien giggle as you continue scrolling, ignoring the pang in your heart when you scroll past your own page, and scrunching your eyebrows in confusion at Regina’s. Didn’t she make this? Speaking of...

You stand up, looking around for her, when you catch Cady walking in awkwardly. She makes eye contact with you, offering you a little smile that you return. As shitty as what she did was, it wasn’t entirely on her. Plus she was about to go through way shittier with the way people kept staring at her.

She turns looks next to you, still smiling, when Janis catches her eye and flips her the bird.

The stare off was interrupted by Principal Duvall starting his speech, going on and on about how he oughta cancel our spring fling. You weren’t really paying attention until the end.

“Who has any lady problems they’d like to share?” You snort when you catch Gretchen pushing Karen's hand down.

Another girl you barely recognize raises her hand, “Somebody wrote in that book that I’m lying about being a virgin because I use super jumbo tampons,”

You, Janis and Damien start hitting each other, holding your noses and trying not to laugh when she continues, “I can’t help it if I’ve got a heavy flow and a wide set vagina.”

Your face was turning red, barely holding it together when Damien snorts. You bark out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth when everyone turns to look at you.

“Yeah, I can’t do this.” Principal Duvall sighs and urges Ms. Norbury to continue for him.

“Alright, everybody close your eyes,” She pauses, “Raise your hand if you’ve ever had a girl say something mean about you behind your back. Now open your eyes.”

You look around the room, everybody had their hands raised. She continues, “Close your eyes again. Raise your hand if you’ve ever said anything mean about a friend behind their back,”

You peek an eye open, raising your hand when you see everyone else's hands raised. You catch Regina doing the same. There she is. “Now open.”

You, Janis and Damien all collectively gasp when you see each other's hands raised.

“Seems like there’s been a little girl-on-girl crime here, let’s do a couple exercises...” Ms. Norbury had all of you confront your friends on what bothered you.

After a couple of confrontations and arguments, Regina stands up with her arms crossed, “Can I just say that I don’t think we have a clique problem at this school. Some of us don’t need to be here! We’re just victims.”

Ms. Norbury smiles, “That's probably true. How many of you have felt personally victimized by Regina George?” You slide down your chair, groaning in second-hand embarrassment when everybody raises their hands.

Janis rolls her eyes and pulls you back up to sit properly.

“Cady, is there anything you’d like to own up to?” Ms. Norbury calls out.

“No.” Cady replies

“You never made up a rumor about anyone?”

Cady looks around, shuffling in her seat, “No.”

“Nothing you want to apologize for?”

“...No.”

Ms. Norbury says something to Cady that you couldn’t catch before moving on. “Alright. Everybody up.”

She made us gather around a little platform, letting whoever wanted to go up and apologize for whoever they’ve hurt. It was absolutely horrible trying to hold in your laugh as the apologies began, especially when Karen fell forward into the trust fall instead of backwards. Someone you don’t recognize goes up, crying and apologizing.

“She doesn’t even go here!” Damien shouts before pushing you in front of him and pulling the strings of his hoodie. You stand on your tiptoes, attempting to conceal him as Janis moves closer to you. "I can't see shit from here," You mumble, trying to look between the girls stood in front of you.

Wanting to get a better view, you decide to move towards the front of the crowd. You pushed yourself between the girls, ignoring the curses thrown your way. Karen noticed you walking towards her and Gretchen and moved to the side as Gretchen went up, making space for you. Your smile dropped as Gretchen began her speech.

Oh wow. Gretchen was horrible at apologies.

Gretchen turns and falls backwards. Entranced by the train wreck that was Gretchen's half-assed apology, you hadn’t noticed people scattering away from you and Karen. Ms. Norbury gasps.

You all fall to the ground, Gretchen and Karen landing on top of you. Karen gets up after Gretchen, helping you up after her and adjusting your disheveled hair. You raise your eyebrows as she begins squeezing your cheeks with a far away look in her eyes before Gretchen starts pulling her arm. Snapping out of whatever trance she was in, she lets Gretchen drag her away, offering you a smile and a wave goodbye,

They could never make you hate her.

Janis pats your shoulder as she walks past you and up onto the platform, beginning her speech. Your eyes widen as she begins to list everything she’d done to sabotage Regina.

“Ay ay ay ay ay!” She ends her speech and jumps into the crowd as they all cheered her on. You were about to join when a teary eyed Regina pushed past you.

"Regina!" You and Cady called at the same time. You looked at each other for a moment before running towards Regina.

Cady keeps walking as you stop at the edge of the street, leaving them to hash it out when you feel a hand on your shoulder. A breathless Janis was standing next to you. You pat her back, “Nice speech, you should join Model UN.” Janis shakes her head in disgust, making you laugh until you notice a school bus speeding towards Regina.

"No!" Janis attempts to pull you back as you rush forward, jumping towards Regina and pushing her out of the way.

You both land on the harsh asphalt, groaning.

“God! Who drives that fucking fast in a school zone?!” You had your hand on your chest, trying to come down from the rush of adrenaline. “At least no one got hurt,”

Sitting up and looking around, you notice everyone’s eyes on you, “What? Why is everyone looking at me?”

Regina’s scream startles you. “Oh my God!” She says while standing up and pointing at your leg. You raise an eyebrow, turning to where she was pointing.

Oh god.

“Is the bone supposed to stick out like that?” You attempt to joke, before promptly blacking out. The last thing you see being Cady, Regina, and Janis all running towards you.

✮✮✮

Long-ish A/N: I used the gymnasium scene from the original mean girls, its lowkey funnier. I know this chapter has a criminal lack of Regina, but I promise I'll make up for it next chapter. I just needed to move the story along.

I made a little sketch of how I imagine R, but I made her vague in the fic on purpose! You get to imagine her however you want. This is just how I imagine her.

Will I acknowledge the fact that she looks like me? nope. Will I acknowledge the fact that I left out an eye? yolo.

Anyways, thank you for reading!

Tag list: @itzyyyyyydaaaaaa (if u wanna get tagged in the next chapter reply under this post!)

[spriteofmushrooms]

All Jiang Cheng Ships Are Bad and You Should Feel Bad, a non-comprehensive list:

xicheng? Trying to upstage wx by taking the #1 eligible bachelor for your ugly #5 blorbo. As IF!

chengxian? Literal incest literally literally. Even more incestuous in MXY's body. That's THREE JL uncles?

zhancheng? Fiction is REAL and you are making your fugly slut into a HOMEWRECKER!!

zhanchengxian? Ummm first of all, everyone knows that fictional mlm only need a mommy (bottom) and daddy (top). What would he even do? 🙄

sangcheng? WWX barely even mentions NHS and JC interacting, and since he was gone for 9 months of the GSL lectures and then dead for 13 years, I think he'd know!!

mingcheng? What, just because he's tall and strong and WWX teases JC about NMJ? Great OTP, idiot. He's not even in the top five eligible bachelor list.

chengyao? Infidelity much?? Or are women not REAL to you?

chengsu? WHY ARE YOU OBSESSED WITH BREAKING UP THEIR MARRIAGE?? Also she has like two lines of dialogue, they have clearly never spoken before. 🙄

3zuncheng? More like JC's healing bussy. Which is NOT healing, FYI.

chengqing? Well Wen Qing is canonically a lesbian who's repulsed by men. Sooo lesbophobic.

chengning? Get your necrophiliac hands OFF my uncomplicated sweet baby Wen Ning!!

chengxuan? Oh my god, do you not even care about Jin Ling!

rencheng? LAN QIREN IS AROACE. PROOF?? IT'S FUNNY. Aphobe much??

zhucheng? Oh my god, WZL is literally at work. I suppose you'd write JC harassing baristas, too?

chaocheng? This is double homewrecking.

zhuicheng? Barf!! In my version of the novel, JC constantly tried to murder every Wen survivor and said he'd eat a-Yuan!!

chengyi? It's sooo curious that you just recreated the chengxian dynamic without the real incest... Stealth chengxian shipper.

zhencheng? Who's Ouyang Zizhen?? Oh, right. AGE GAP!!!

xuecheng? Why would JC care about an orphan street kid with a lot of resentment? That's right... chengxian III: The Return.

OC/JC? Kind of telling that you had to make up a guy to ship with your blorbo... Unlike LWJ, who was specifically designed for WWX by the author, this is just sad.

JC/reader? Love yourself.

[dangerouslyhungryprocrastiner]

Yes i do think im funny actually-

Anyway hello tgcf peeps....first time posting tgcf stuff so...be mice to me pls

I am currently reading the 3rd book (im somewhere in the middle), so i am yet to meet He Xuan and Shi Wudu.

I try my best not to spoil myself anything in regards to them, so i do not know what beef they have, and i do not know what happens to Shi Qingxuan my beloved. I just saw lot of fanarts of them being stuffed in a jar and i thought this would be funny. So i made it i stead of doing my school assignments.

So please keep the spoilers in the tags minimal if possible <33

(I bet He Xuan is very ooc in this, but like i said i don't know that man yet- )

Update: i have now read past the Mid Autumn festival chepter and all i can say is this: Shi Wudu is the nastiest skank bitch I've ever met. Do not trust him! He is a fugly slut!

Update 2: i just finished End the deadlock and i will never be the same.

And here's alternative varsions of the art:

[makethosenarratorsfight]

UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SEMI FINALS

Lemony Snicket Propaganda:

(I would like to preface this by saying that Lemony Snicket is the author's pen name, not a real person, and he exists as a character in-universe as well as being the one in-universe who writes the books!) I'd say he's unreliable because he spent time collecting information about the Baudelaire kids and then... wrote books about it. He has no idea what any of their dialogue actually was, what they were thinking, or even the whole plot, he's just doing research into the incidents and then filling in the gaps to make it a story. What ACTUALLY happened to the Baudelaires? Nobody really knows for sure

While the Baudelaire siblings are in potentially life threatening danger, he will randomly start talking about his own life and just leave the siblings hanging. For example, once Count Olaf was threatening to kill Violet, and then Lemony randomly began talking about how he met the love of his life at a costume party. This man CANNOT stay on topic. Usually when a new character is introduced, Lemony tells us right at the start that they’re either going to die or that the Baudelaire siblings will never see them again. Foreshadowing is not subtle in these books. CONSTANTLY emphasizes how miserable he feels while writing these books. At one point he admits that he had to put his pencil down and go cry for a while because of how sad it made him. Once he filled an entire page with nothing but the word “ever” to emphasize how dangerous it is to put forks in electrical outlets. He also repeated a paragraph about deja vu later on in the book to give the reader deja vu.

Marvin propaganda:

this bitch is crazy you can't trust a thing she says!!!! but um seriously he is neurotic and while recounting his childhood everything is wack and doesn't make sense and ummm. Idk the man lies he withholds information (such as names of main characters he deems unworthy or important details) he makes he presents his fantasies like actual canon events (how marvin eats his breakfast, rape of ms goldberg) he tries to convince himself and therefore us that he's straight ummm he's just a little freak and an attention whore and a liar and a fugly slut and i love him. Heart

[smeagol-on-my-deagol]

reading 'the secret history' by donna tartt for the first time, so here are my thoughts on the prologue through chapter 1:

[CONTAINS SPOILERS] obviously

— it is so spectacularly written that i don't even care how much richard complains and talks about nothing because it reads so nicely

— john richard papen is queer (derogatory (for him))

— francis abernathy is queer (canonically(??))

— henry winter and professor julian morrow are queer and i don't care that henry is a legal adult, i do not like whatever they've got going on with each other

— people probably want bunny corcoran to be queer (probably because his name is bunny and what straight man would ever go by bunny?? and also because he's dead), but he is not, i fear he's just pathetic and loud (so far)

— there is something very sinister about professor julian morrow, i do not trust that fugly slut

— nevertheless he does eat when it comes to in-class discussion

— i should probably read more greek classics

— also do not trust richard, i know first person povs pretty much always entail unreliable narratives, but this man seems particularly not at all reliable

— also also do not trust bunny,,,, idk he just seems too nice for the company he keeps and that doesn't make sense (well actually he does end up dead so,,)

— actually i don't really trust any of them,, it's probably because the book opens with murder, but there's something very unsettling about everyone and everything

— again donna tartt is a wonderful writer

[polaroidcats]

Ugly crying & the marauders generation - a pseudo-scientific approach (my marauders crying PhD abstract)

Abstract

In recent days, there have been a variety of claims as to who the prettiest and ugliest crier in the marauders generation could be. This paper aims to address the recent surge in opinions on the matter, and categorize different approaches as well as add a new approach to the scientific examination of ugliness/prettiness when it comes to crying. I hope to provide readers with an overview of the current state of research and encourage all marauders scholars to add their own and I intend to make a contribution to the discourse by committing to the bit and writing a pseudo-academic paper about it instead of actually working on my thesis.

Introduction

In the following paper, the discourse about 5 marauders era characters will be examined in regards to their various levels of perceived ugliness whilst crying. Scholars who may ask why Peter [Pettigrew] is not included in this analysis are advised to refer to acclaimed marauders ugly crying scholar @lynxindisguise's (2023) original poll on the popular blogging website "tumblr.com" which did not include Peter, but rather two non-marauders characters named Lily and Regulus. This paper will follow that approach, since Peter is the nastiest skank bitch I have ever met, I do not trust him and he is a fugly slut. The characters included in this approach are as follows: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black.

Following the scientific criteria for ugly crying, as stated by lynxindisguise et. al (2023), the question of the ugliest crier can be answered by observing the crying person and assessing their ugly-levels on the following parameters: (1) unbecoming facial expressions, (2) facial swelling/blotching, (3) unsettling noises, (4) snot factor, (5) tear volume, (6) general loss of dignity, (7) glistening eyes/lashes, (8) Victorian heroine factor, (9) elegant tear-wiping, (10) post-cry glow (ibid).

Criteria (1)-(6) can be categorized as the ugly crying parameters whereas (7)-(10) are pretty crying parameters, creating a false binary between ugly and pretty crying, which may be problematised and addressed in another the paper. In contrast to lynxindisguise’s original 10 criteria to measure the aesthetics of crying, this paper proposes to add (11) explosiveness of cry as another ugly crying parameter, in order to get a more clear assessment of where on the ugly-pretty crying scale a character falls.

The ugly crying parameters

(1) Unbecoming facial expressions

James Potter is mentioned in this category by several marauders scholars: @jaylienpotter talks about his red face and ugly sobbing, @artbyace mentions his “scrunched up cry face” and @sectoren claimes “james (…) is that one handsome guy that when the waterworks get going becomes like. Cartoonishly ugly”, raising the question of upkeeping toxic masculinity in order to avoid having to witness more of James Potter’s crying “mug”.

Though James Potter features heavily in this category, another character who is also mentioned just as often is Remus Lupin: @kaaaaaaarf, @appreciatedmoron and @http-starboy all emphasise that Remus Lupin is the one with a red and blotchy face.

(2) facial swelling/blotching

While there is a definitive overlap between the categories of facial swelling/blotching, unbecoming facial expressions and snot factor, Sirius’ and Regulus’ victorian heroine complexions, which give them an advantage in the homonymous category, may be to their disadvantage in the “blotching” category. This will require further research by other scholars.

(3) unsettling noises

James Potter is mentioned in this category by Jaylienpotter (2023), claiming he not only hiccups when crying but also that “his cries are one of the most heartbreaking things you’ll ever hear” and similarly, artbyace states that “James loves and feels so loudly”, whereas “Sirius is silent”, both sentiments are reminiscent of znelda’s (2023) statements that James “was allowed to feel his emotions freely in a loving household” and “Sirius (…) [is] used to hide [his] feelings and [has] become stoic”.

With several other scholars, among them also @jamesunderwater (2023) raising the point that James may be the ugliest crier due to him being “the only one well adjusted enough to have access to his feelings” this raises the question of possibly introducing another category, maybe of emotional awareness/stability to be able to measure this parameter more efficiently, though emotional vulnerability may also just be a part of the unsettling noises parameter, suggesting that there is a correlation between noisiness and the existing environment being welcoming to and accepting of various expressions of emotions.

(4) snot factor

The most popular winner in the snot factor category seems to be Remus Lupin, with several scholars agreeing that his sobs are the dampest and snottiest out of all the candidates. kaaaaaaarf (2023) writes “he turnes all red and blochty and snot drips out of his nose (…) he cant (sic) not cry with his mouth open as well so there is a lot of spit”, and appreciatedmoron (2023) agrees with kaaaaaaarf on this.

It only seems right to me to include spit in the snot category as well, seeing as they’re both crying-related bodily fluids that add to the ugly-cry factor. http-starboy (2023) also mentions snot in regards to Remus Lupin, which compared to both their comments in (1) opens up the question of how unbecoming facial expressions, more particularly redness of the face and snot factor may be related, as several authors seem to write about both specifically in relation to each other. Whether this is just pure coincidence or not would need further research, for which we currently do not have enough funding. This is only one of the many research gaps in the relatively new field of marauder’s ugly crying studies, which cannot fully be addressed in this paper.

James Potter is also mentioned in the snot category, namely by the marauders scholar artbyace (2023).

(5) tear volume

Artbyace (2023) claims James Potter is “full on bawling” which can only be assumed to refer to tear volume, but the most convincing argument for tear volume comes from the acclaimed marauders scholar @fruityindividual (2023), stating that “tsunami warning tones go off in sirius’ brain anytime remus is close 2 (sic) tears” which already indicates high levels of tear volumes. The author then goes on to specify the volume by claiming that “indeed the ocean wishes rj lupin would jump in and help contribute 2 (sic) rising sea levels”, further emphasizing the volume of Remus's tears.

(6) general loss of dignity

@pastaplatypus (2023) writes about James Potter not being able to do a Melodramatic Bollywood Cry, which is perceived as inherently racist by the crier.

I would like to argue that Sirius Black also deserves to be mentioned in this category. While as of today, with less than 1 hour left to vote, 15.5% of voters agree that Sirius is the ugliest crier, the more outspoken voices all argue for different ugly criers. Due to their upbringing, I am tempted to name both Black brothers in the “loss of dignity” category and look forward to reading future contributions to this discussion.

The pretty crying parameters

(7) glistening eyes/lashes

Undoubtedly Sirius Black deserves to be mentioned in this category. I believe his dark lashes and glimmering eyes are part of what makes him the prettiest crier. Whereas Remus’s eyes also sometimes glisten or appear red, and it is usually attributed to be caused by drug consumption, which more often than not is a wrong assumption, but he happily goes along with the pretense of being a weed-smoking bad boy in order to hide his ugly crying damp tendencies.

(8) Victorian heroine factor

It almost seems superfluous to even mention Sirius (and, to a lesser degree, Regulus) Black in this category. This category was made for Sirius, as is apparent when reading lynxindisguises (2023) description of the victorian heroine factor, in response to a question by the scholar @plecotusauritus:

“the Victorian Heroine Factor is a deeply scientific assessment of the Vibes. Is this person giving tragically beautiful, windswept Victorian Heroine, sobbing gently into their hands while sprawled across a boulder or a well or a fountain of some sort? When they look up at you, do their tear-plumped lips part elegantly as a single tear slides down their cheek?”

(9) elegant tear-wiping

There hasn't been a lot of research in this area, but I would like to propose handkerchiefs with embroidered initials and family crests as another potential factor in favor of the Black brothers scoring high marks in this category as well as the Victorian heroine factor.

(10) post-cry glow

Artbyace (2023) claims “lily is always beautiful (…) even when crying”, which is echoed by znelda’s (2023) earlier claim that “Lily (…) [is] a woman and no woman is ugly when crying.”

Sirius is the other popular choice by marauders scholars for this category, with @in-flvx (2023) stating that he “handsomely handsomes while dying after 12 years of torture hell and another year in shackles”, which would mean that “a few tears would[n’t] stop him from being the hottest person in the room at all times” (ibid).

Additional parameters

I am suggesting to introduce an additional metric in order to further specify and better assess the ugly-crying levels:

(11) explosiveness of cry

@felixantares (2023) introduces the idea that Remus “is the type that very few people have been seen cry because he ignores every difficult emotion hes (sic) ever had (…) and it all explodes at once and its horrible to watch when he breaks down”, a sentiment shared by several of the other authors mentioned above in various other categories.

Further opinions & conclusions

The most popular consensus seems to be that Sirius cannot be the ugliest crier, sometimes also in direct comparison to his brother: @spindrifters (2023) answers the question of the ugliest crier with “obviously it’s regulus”, elaborating that “at least [it’s] definitely not sirius bc (sic) reg is canonically less handsome in all ways” which brings up the question if regular beauty plays into ugly crying. This is contrasted by lynxindisguises argument, that Sirius may be an ugly crier because he’s so gorgeous, and his ugly crying subverts the expectations of beauty:

“the most beautiful man alive looks hideous while crying, and his deeply awkward and perpetually damp bf (sic) is literally in his element while crying – dampness becomes him, you might say.”

This statement raises yet another question – does regular crying make the crier more or less ugly? Can an ugly crier become a pretty crier by practice or are we all born either ugly or pretty criers, condemned to this fate for life?

While this paper has given an overview of the current state of research to ugly crying/pretty crying, it has also raised many more questions. Other topics which may be addressed in future papers also include the philosophical question whether ugly crying is in the eye of the beholder and if it is possible to ugly cry without being perceived, and if it is possible to ugly cry if the person perceiving you doesn’t find it ugly. Since the research field of ugly crying is a relatively new one, we can only hope to read many more opinions on these and other topics in the future, and I look forward to reading different scholar’s approaches to these highly relevant topics.

[factorydefaultlu]

Joining the Strawhat Crew as their personal fucktoy.

First it starts off as just you nd Luffy. The crew can hear the way you scream and moan and beg for more with flushed faces, you seemed so sweet and shy to them. He fucked you whenever you wanted, it didn't matter what time of the day it was.

Eventually you two are laying together one night, Luffy had just cum inside you and was drifting off to sleep cuddling you (though he was practically on top of you at this point) nd before he's fast asleep he mutters "y'kno I wouldn' mind 'f ya fuck the others. I think they'd like it" And you flush, because, yeah you've thought about fucking the other members of the crew, but didn't want to hurt Luffy.

from that point on, you're a commodity among the crew. Sometimes Sanji will have you bent over the table in the kitchen, pounding your pussy raw before Zoro kicks the door open.

"you almost done shithead? i want a turn with it."

Sanji huffs and rolls his eyes. "Yeah yeah, whatever fugly mosshead. I'm almost done." He snaps over his shoulder.

After Sanji pumps a load deep inside of you, you go to get up, dress yourself enough to make it to the crows nest (or wherever Zoro felt like fucking you) before you felt a hand roughly shove you back down onto the table.

"Where the fuck d'you think you're going, slut?" Zoro growls as he shoves his way inside of you. He starts up a rough pace, not really caring about the way you twitch in oversensitivity. "Filthy holes like you need to learn to lay there until we're done with 'em."

Franky and Usopp often fuck you in their workshop. They test out various types of sex toys that they've made, from vibrators to anal plugs. Usopp was really shy and awkward with you at first, but he got over it pretty quickly. Now, he grips your hair tightly as he fucks your throat, pushing you down til your nose brushes against his pubic hair. because Franky's so big he's able to hold you up easily and fuck you like he would a fleshlight. He really likes cumming inside of you and laying you on his workbench to watch his seed drip out of you afterward.

Nami loves riding your face and domming you. So does Robin. They enjoy tying you down and watching you squirm as a hand Robin summoned rubs at your clit while Nami rails your pussy with her strap. They'll edge you til you cry and then whisper sweet nothings into your ear as they make you cum over nd over and over again.

The crew loves you and cares about you for sure, but at the end of the day you're their toy to use as they please.

👀 That's the dream right there. Where do I sign up?