#bonkers is a white face clown

[baoshan-sanren]

best cdramas I’ve watched since the last one of these posts in 2022 (and some I’m still looking forward to seeing)

Heroes (watch on WeTV VIP | watch on bilibili) Adapted from the novel "Shuo Ying Xiong Shei Shi Ying Xiong" (说英雄谁是英雄) by Wen Rui An (温瑞安) starring Zeng ShunXi, Yang ChaoYue, Liu YuNing, Baron Chen and Meng ZiYi. I would’ve watched this thing for the cast only. Everyone is queer vibes. Not a flashy drama, but will emotionally shred you. The character development is totally worth it. Throughly entertaining, even when it punched you in the gut. 8/10

The Wind Blows From LongXi (watch on iQIYI VIP | watch on Viki) Adapted from novel "The Wind Rises in Longxi" (风起陇西) by Ma Bo Yong (马伯庸) starring Chen Kun and Bai Yu. I’ve been waiting for this drama for two years and it was worth every second of the wait. The cinematography in this thing is bonkers. The use of light and shadows, the muted colors, the indoor shots opening up into well-lit courtyards, the gritty sound mixing, the whole thing just blew my ass away. Chen Kun and Bai Yu are masters of their art. Fckn masterpiece. 11/10

Who Rules The World (watch on WeTV VIP | watch on Netflix) Adapted from the novel "Qie Shi Tian Xia" (且试天下) by Qing Ling Yue (倾泠月) starring Yang Yang, Zhao LuSi, and Xuan Lu. One of the rare romance dramas that really appealed to me. A well-balanced mix of court intrigue and martial world heroics. Unlimited blorbo potential. It’s hard to outshine Yang Yang (who gives major Mei Changsu vibes through like the first third of the drama) but Zhao LuSi and Xuan Lu together? Magnificent. Breathtaking. Brilliant. 8/10

The Legend of Hao Lan (watch on iQIYI VIP | watch on Viki | watch on tubi) starring Wu Jinyan and Nie Yuan. So this was like, The Story of Yanxi Palace cast, remixed. Was it great? Not really. Did I watch every episode? Yeah. I honestly think that Wu Jinyan could just make faces for 50+ sixty minute episodes, and I’d still watch every minute of it. Still, a fascinating take on the Warring States Period, and actually based on a woman who helped her son become the King of Qin, then ultimately the First Emperor of China. I think 99% of the budget went to costumes, and tbh, it was totally worth every penny. 7/10

(yeah, after all this, I rewatched Nirvana In Fire again)

The Silent Criminal (watch on Apple TV | watch on Bilibili | watch on iQIYI VIP | watch on Viki) starring Li Jiaming and Wen Sheng. So incredibly gay. Hilarious, yes, but predominantly gay. Murder, intrigue, suspense, pining; this little drama literally has everything. Did it impact my life and leave a long-lasting impression? Not really. But I was most throughly entertained. 7/10

My Heroic Husband (watch on Amazon Prime | watch on iQIYI VIP | watch on Viki) Adapted from the novel "Zhui Xu" (赘婿) by Fen Nu de Xiang Jiao (愤怒的香蕉). Starring Song Yi and Guo Qilin. Actually, the majority of Joy of Life cast is in this drama, including a cameo by Zhang Ruoyun in the very beginning. Cast aside tho, I fckn love this drama to pieces. Song Yi and Guo Qilin have amazing chemistry, and they’re so goddamn adorable together I can’t even stand it. The plot is far from complex but immensely satisfying. Excellent drama on a mediocre budget, one I plan to regularly rewatch. 8/10

Still waiting on: 

Immortality - based on danmei novel The Husky and His White Cat Shizun by 肉包不吃肉 starring Chen Feiyu and Luo Yunxi (you can think I’m a clown but you’d be wrong bc I’m a wholeass circus)

Winner Is King - based on the danmei novel Sha Po Lang by Priest starring Tan Jianci and Chen Zheyuan

Step By Step Lotus - based on historical novel Return to Ming Dynasty as Prince by 月关 starring Zhang Binbin and Luo Yunxi

Eternal Faith - based on danmei novel Heaven Official’s Blessing by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu starring Zhai Xiaowen and Zhang Linghe

Joy Of Life Season 2 - based on wuxia novel of the same name by 猫腻 starring Zhang Ruoyun and Li Qin

A League of Nobleman - based on danmei novel The Society of Four Leaves by Da Feng Gua Guo starring Song Weilong and Jing Boran

Flying Phoenix - based on danmei novel of the same name by 風弄 starring Dai Jingyao and Shu Yaxin

The Story of the Bat - based on danmei novel Bat by Feng Nong starring Mao Zijun and Zhang Yao

The Longest Promise - based on xianxia novel Zhu Yan by 沧月 starring Xiao Zhan, Ren Min, and Zhang Yunlong

Song of The Moon - based on wuxia novel 奔月 by 蜀客 starring Zhang Binbin and Xu Lu

Story of Kunning Palace - based on the the web novel 坤宁 by Shi Jing starring Bai Lu and Zhang Linghe 

Under the Microscope - based on the novel 显微镜下的大明 by 马伯庸 starring Zhang Ruoyun and Qi Wei

Till the End of the Moon - based on the web novel 黑月光拿稳BE剧本 by Teng Luo Wei Zhi starring Luo Yunxi and Bai Lu

#cdrama #cdrama recs #long post #m

[wyrddogs]

Because I always like hearing people’s answers to this question: what are your top 5 breeds (and why)?

Oh man, uh. Top five breeds as of today:

Dachshund (mini longhair flavor): They are fantastic do-anything dogs. Want to go for a hike? Want to stay in bed and snuggle? Do sports? Hunt? They can do all that and more. They're super portable but act like they weigh eighty pounds. They will keep you laughing with their antics and also their nub legs. I love the juxtaposition of the little flop ears and the sweet face and the sincere desire to murder small animals. The stubbornness and penchant for mischief is a feature, not a bug. To quote Udo Kopernik, "There is a certain degree of megalomania. That makes the Dachshund very charming."

Belgian Shepherd: I imprinted on German shepherds in kindergarten and fell sideways into Belgians. They're athletic! Beautiful! Confident! Do you need a dog to complete a task? A Belgian is the dog for you! They've got all the shepherd qualities that I adore while still being dog-sized and dog-shaped. Super intelligent dog who demands you provide him with a job or by god he'll find one himself. And even though this puppy is currently driving me absolutely bonkers, whenever I see him trotting around the yard I think of that part of the tervuren standard: "Always in motion except when under command."

Border Collie: Unfortunately I also imprinted on them young. They are one of my favorite breeds and have been for more than twenty years and if I can find one that doesn't twig me I'd snatch it up so fast. Another do-anything, biddable, athletic, dog-shaped dog. The quintessential herding dog. Do you want a smart, small, thinking machine to have adventures with? A border collie is the dog for you! Every time I see one of those classic black-and-whites out working sheep in the field I think longingly, "what if..."

Collie: What can I say? I read Lad: A Dog at a formative age. Just copy-paste that entire book right here. I wish collies came with the grit and drive I like, because I'd own one in a heartbeat. Maybe as a retirement breed. I'm in a couple Scottish collie FB groups so I can live vicariously.

Havanese: Every single one of these dogs I've met has been an absolute goddamn delight. Bubbly! Playful! Bouncy! Joyful! These little clowns want nothing more than to have a great time, and they want to do it with you. I absolutely understand why they are so popular as pets, because yeah, I'd probably have ten or twenty myself. I wish the smooth-coated variety wasn't a DQ because a more perfect little dog-shaped-dog cannot be found. Google it and look at that face and tell me you aren't absolutely charmed.

Thank you for asking!

#dog breeds

[eyenaku]

please tell about pierrot

holy shit this is gonna be maaaaddddd long i love you bryt

oh kay so. if u want easy to digest ver see my pierrot posters but ill go. bonkers and be abnormal and give u so much info under cut except i physically cant write serious tone rn so srry

picture this. it's the 16th century and commedia dell'arte is going nuts in italy everybody loves to watch silly little guys- one of which is the stock character pedrolino!! he doesn't wear a mask (unlinke many commedia characters) and has a loose white outfit, with ruff, cap, and large buttons down the centre of his shirt. he's a naive little guy- he's unlucky in love but it's endearing!! jovial! the youngest character!! pedrolino specifically is comedic and silly and happy!

ok now it's the 18th century and commedia dell'arte starts spreading across western europe. when it hits france, pedrolino becomes pierrot. pierrot being a diminutive of pierre, with -ot acting similarly to the spanish -ito which makes words smaller, often in the context of youth and endearment. in english, his name would be something like "petey" or "little pete". pierrot stays as a silly little guy, still the youngest role and a sideshow comedian, but don't you worry because he quickly becomes the sopping wet sad clown you know and love.

19th century comes along and BOOM. pantomine goes crazy in france and england. ppl cant get enough of watching these silly guys interact. jean-gaspard deburau, a famous mime, creates a rendition of pierrot during his time at the theatre des funambules, which becomes the stereotypical one everyone thinks of when they hear the name. he's pathetic, he's hopefully in love with columbine.

wait what? he's pining?? he's not being silly doing gags anymore? u heard that right folks there's a new storyline and it's a weird love triangle thing sorta kinda?? the melancholy recharacterization came with a new typical storyline of unrequited love between pierrot and columbine (columbine being his wife who is cheating on him with harlequin), though the story varies (sometimes they are not married, sometimes she is married to harlequin, etc). n e ways da general premise is that pierrot loves columbine, columbine loves harlequin, and harlequin loves columbine, so they both long for her affections and pierrot is a sad sopping wet lil bitch boy about it. very silly im love him anyways

oh yea deburau's super duper famous pierrot also switched up his costume- he got rid of the frilly collar/ruff (booooo tomato), gave him a skullcap instead of a hat, and made his blouse n trousers really big n wide-cut. he was no longer crude, timid, lazy, greedy, etc. etc. but rather a POET. a theatre kid. a melodramatic thing.

with pierrot being so intertwined to harlequin, naturally he was a pivotal character in the harlequin-centric "harlequinades", plays popular in england. however pierrot got displaced by the english clown :( dw tho he stayed popular in france

ok late 19th early 20th century. pantomime/commedia dell'arte makes a comeback????! oh em gee. new plays. many books of poems. 1884's pierrot lunaire saga was particularly famous, and was used as lyrics to a full orchestra composition. these poems are generally regarded as the first strong association between pierrot and moon motifs but they were seen before (supposedly around the deburau period) as a way to show he was "over the moon" in love with columbine.

oh yea pierrette also starts to exist during this time period. literally just female pierrot, who's sorta a rival for columbine but sorta not really? she's like. in love with pierrot, who's in love with columbine, who's in love with harlequin. they're all rlly dramatic about it. nobody wins (except columbine and harlequin lmaooo). they're both sad face emoji all the time and super melodramatic real for real.

ok now it's the 1920s. MORE PIERROT RESURGENCE. ppl in the 20s LOOOVEEED pierrot and pierrette. bibleots- french trinkets were super popular and were often pierrot/pierrette motofed, usually with moons. they were figurines, boxes, decanters, bookened, lamps, all sortsa stuff. their designs are a mash-up of all the previous iterations, typicalls looking very much like deburau's version but with a very prominent ruff added (WOOOOOOOO RUFF YAY) the modernism movement (art) has him as a reoccurring subject (picasso and dalí r some famous modernist artist who painted/drew him).

even charlie chaplin was a pierrot- little tramp, his most famous character and what u think of when u think of him was described in his biography as a type of pierrot.

david bowie described himself as a pierrot ! ! ! ! ! TWIGGY PLAYED A PIERRETTE IN HER FIRST MOVIE!! ggrarhhh

21st CENTURY HATSUNE MIKU PIERROT SONG. PIERROT IN FASHION.... pierrot was called a symbol for th epresent during covid...

anyways y yea im a huge fan. im abnormal about pierrot. thas a brief history. mwah kisses xoxo

oh also im making a game rn. commedia inspired. pierrot is in it. hoo ray

#ask #‼️mutual #pierrot #AUGHH #forgot to add but Harley Quinn also played quite a role in Mardi Gras and similar festivals like carnival and those in Venice #harlequin I mean #sorry I’m voice typing I’m kind of cooked

[deepkill]

you like clowns?

#clown #bright colours #clowns #luxrays art #sortaa????? lol #clowncore #kidcore #bonkers and my new clownsona hiccups :)))) #bonkers also has a waistcoat and a jacket and sometimes doesnt have the tail or it looks different #and hiccups is based on a clownsuit i have irl! #also theyre based on like difference clown types irl #bonkers is a white face clown #and hiccups is an auguste! #bonkers is not actually the ultimate clown he is mediocre at best- its just a title lol

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳ don't let him know ♡

in which y/n l/n is a certified gryffindor scaredy cat who bumps into fred in his shop, gets scared by a product, and catches the eye of a ginger headed monster. he takes an interest in her and invites her to watch a horror movie at his place to prove a point.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±1.3k

tw: horror movies, scary things, darkness, clowns

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

- when playing it cool doesn't work

don't let him know

she was pretty sure he knew she would freak the hell out of her pants if she ever saw a picture of a killer clown. yet the stupid fearless annoying guy who laughed in her face when she got slightly paranoid about the darkness caused by the peruvian dark stuff insisted. in the most annoying way.

he knew she would freak the hell out. sure, she had been a gryffindor and a pretty well-known one, but she was probably just trying to be strong. plus, he liked her.

anyway.

y/n knocks at the door to a very interesting apartment. it has straight white walls and a dark oak door.

"ready to be a scaredy cat?" fred opens it with a grin.

y/n rolls her eyes, "no. i told you, the powder was just a little surprising, that's all."

fred would have completely believed her easy tone if it wasn't for the memory of her panicked voice calling out, "mister gingerman? uh, this is kinda a problem!!!" to him.

he put on 'it', settling back into the couch as she took off of her shoes and pulled her jacket closer to her.

"why's it so cold in here?" she shivers.

"is it?" fred's lips are smirking, "cold and scared?"

"oh shut up. i'm just saying."

truth is, she is cold, and she is scared. but fred likes the company of brave and ruthless women, she knows. he probably wouldn't even want to be her friend if he knew she was scared by spiders and death and murders.

she hops onto the couch, thankful that there's a blanket waiting for her. ignoring the way it smells of the ginger head next to her, she pulls it to her chin. y/n grabs a handful of popcorn and gulps it down as the movie begins.

she's utterly terrified. her eyes are wide with fear, her fingers trembling. a mild jumpscare appears and she shrinks. fred's engrossed watching her scared figure tremble, but he notices that she's very very embarrassed and decides it's not right, putting his amazing broadway acting to use.

he shivers as the clown comes on again, faking a scared look.

"h-hey, y/n, can we c-change the movie?" he asks meekly, lying.

she nods far too eagerly, "yeah!" she's thankful that she doesn't have to admit she's scared.

"o-okay."

he switches it quickly to 'F.R.I.E.N.D.S'. it's cute and light.

he feels her relax tenfold beside him. a smile is painted across her lips. she's laughing, and her eyes are no longer fearful.

fred decides he likes this much more than the scared version of her.

she turns her head awkwardly as a kissing scene comes up and fred can't help but laugh, shamelessly watching chandler and monica snog.

"seriously?" he chuckles.

"it just feels like the moment should be theirs. like we shouldn't be here- oh another one? can they NOT keep their hands off of each other?!!!"

he laughs, but it's drowned out by her laughter as phoebe says something utterly bonkers.

she's clapping, laughing uncontrollably. and he folds his arms.

because of course he's jealous. he wants to make her laugh like that, not a stupid movie character.

and as the clock ticks by, he notices her become drowsier and drowsier. finally, she slumps asleep, head supported by arm.

he thinks of moving her to the guest room but decides that if she does have nightmares, which would be completely his problem, she probably needed to wake in a more alive room. so he gently sweeps her up, and gently puts her in his bed, tucking the covers under her chin as she smiles subconsciously.

"scaredy cat, huh?" he whispers fondly.

"'m not," she automatically flounders, "you're stupid, big clown."

he finds her sleep talking utterly adorable. he can't think of why she would think being a scaredy cat is a bad thing. it's okay to have fears.

a boost of confidence suddenly runs through him as he realises she might want him to think she's tough and strong, trying to get him to at least like her as a friend.

his lips quirk into an odd smile at the very thought.

that would explain her embarrassed expression. and the way she suppressed her shivering.

but that also meant she wasn't comfortable around him. he frowns.

unable to resist, he pokes her shoulder continuously. she rolls around, annoyed and grumbling in her sleep, trying to dodge the poking.

finally, her eyes open wide, before her form relaxes as she realises a fire isn't actually happening.

"y/n?"

"mhm?"

"do you not feel very comfy with me?"

y/n ponders the question, "why?"

"well- you kinda seem on edge?"

"on edge?"

"like you're tryna hide something."

"huh?" y/n doesn't really want to explain it all to him, it seems really silly to her.

"i don't mind if you're scared of stuff, really," he smirks, "i find it cute."

"uh-erm, i-" she's rendered speechless, spluttering, "it's not cute! i'm a gryffindor, for godric's sake!"

"well, not all gryffindors need to be brave."

she narrows her eyes, flipping over with her back to fred, "now you're just insulting my womanhood."

"not all gryffindors need to be brave in an obvious way," he offers.

"that's a lil bit better. i-, i still wanna be brave and not fearful, but it's hard, if you know what i mean?"

his expression is bewildered, "wha?"

"never mind. so you don't really mind?"

"love, it's not a big deal."

she wonders if it's traditional english custom for all the people to call all the other people 'love'. apparently though, where she comes from, it's a mocking thing.

people say it when they go, "hey, love, stop being a jerk, won't you?" and "lovely, shut up." and "do us a favour and stop your ignorance, won't you, love?". it's meant as a sarcastic term.

so when fred says it ever so casually she nods and returns to her dreams. the problem is, she can't. the image of the clown is still imprinted in her head. fred's scribbling things down on a little desk.

she doesn't want to disturb him, so she quietly begins daydreaming. daydreaming about a nice love story.

sirius and remus would look good together, she muses, having seen pictures of the two standing side by side a little younger.

and sometimes, she thinks, a little creepily, of what it'd be like to have fred love her.

a small smile is on her lips as she creates little tales and images in her mind about the couples in her life.

cuties, she thinks about harry and ginny, guess the potter men have a thing for redheads. but redheads are kinda cute. ginny has the most beautiful features, ron has the nicest eyelashes, george has angie's love? if that counted- she chuckles to herself.

blushing a little, she admits in her head that fred has cute freckles, and whenever he wasn't up to no good, he has this sweet little smile on his lips.

percy's smart, charlie's got nice tattoos and bill has the best hair.

the exchange in her head doesn't go unnoticed by fred. he's confused by the little sighs of dramatic happiness she lets out and smirks. when a dainty blush paints over her cheeks he's got to say something.

"thinking of me, love?"

she really isn't listening, so she hums a "mmm" back and he laughs.

"you are?"

"huh?" her eyes snap back and she frowns.

"i asked," he says slowly, "if you were thinking of me."

she gives an awkward laugh, "nope! not at all! good try!"

and that, followed by another blush, is reason to fred that she might just be thinking about him.

"hey, y/n?"

"yeah?"

"i think about you a lot, too. probably more than you think of me."

#fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred and george #weasley twins #weasley family #harry potter #fanfic #gryffindor #y/n #frederick weasley #fredweasley #fred weasley x reader #hogwarts #harrypotter

[thiswasinevitableid]

94 for sternclay for the winter prompts??? Especially if trans stern because I love that for him:’) either nsfw or sfw, hope you have a wonderful day!!!!! Your writing is a gift

Thank you so much!  I went with NSFW, and Stern is indeed trans.

94. you overhear my ex mocking me for being single at a holiday party and introduce yourself as my SO with a kiss on the cheek but we’ve never spoken before 

The things he does to pay for culinary school. 

It’s not the catering gig that’s bothering him; he takes pride in making food at conferences and office parties better than expected. It’s the fucking red, white, and green uniforms they’re making them wear for this one. It’s hot, itchy, and he really would prefer to wear the winter sweater Thacker gave him last year. It’s rustic but festive. It’s also sitting in his car, because no one told him about these uniforms until he got here. 

You can’t spring a surprise uniform on a guy who’s 6’4 and 190 pounds. The vest digs into his stomach, the jacket is too tight, and the pants don’t cover his ankles. 

It’s too bad, this party is pretty fun to work. It’s for a big-name publisher looking to seem hip, so the band is good and the decorations don’t look like the Macy’s Parade puked all over the room. 

The meals aren’t sit down, more a five hour cocktail party with canapes on trays and a spread of food at the back. Barclay sets out a new plate of crostini, wondering if they have enough fruit for the evening, when someone taps his shoulder. 

“How can I help-”

“I need a refill.” James, his ex, smirks at him.

“Not the bartender.” Barclay picks up the empty tray. 

“So?”

“I stopped being the guy to refill your drinks when you dumped me. Go ask whatever poor sap you dragged to this to do it for you.”

“Poor sap? Barclay, you sound like one of those boring mysteries you always read.”

“I’m trying not to swear, I’m at work.”

“Too bad you left me-”

“You broke up with me”

“-You could be enjoying the party instead of serving lukewarm food in a ridiculous outfit. Then again, looking like a clown suits you.”

“Man, c’mon.” Barclay can’t get into it here, James is absolutely the kind of guy who will use it to get him fired.

“Not surprised you haven’t found someone who wants to put up with your whole puppy-dog routine. What good is all that bulk if you’re just a pus-”

“There you are.” An arm snakes around Barclays waist and he freezes. James stands up straight, plastering on a smile.

“I wish I’d know ahead of time this is where you were working tonight. It feels wrong to be out mingling when you’re stuck back here. Oh well, next year.” A soft kiss lands on his cheek and in his surprise he turns to look at it’s source. 

The man is almost his height, trimmer and dressed in a black suit with a blue and silver tie. He’s blue eyed, with jet black hair slicked back and a face that puts every movie star Barclay can name to shame.

Barclay has no fucking clue who he is, or if he’s mistaking Barclay for someone else. He doesn’t seem drunk enough for that. 

“Mr. Stern, it’s an honor to meet you, I, uh, this-”

“This must be the ex you told me about, right, big guy?” Mr. Stern sets a protective hand at the small of his back.

“Uh, yeah. Babe, this is James.”

“So, where at Penguin do you work?”

“I, um, oh, look, someone is calling me. Bye, Barclay, nice seeing you again.”

The hand doesn't leave his back until James is out of sight.

“I’m sorry. He was harassing you and that seemed like the fastest way to make him stop.” Mr. Stern is still standing proud, but his voice is now softer, almost shy. 

“That’s, uh, that’s totally fine. I really appreciate the help. Kinda surprise you saw flirting as more appealing than, like, pretending to be my boss or something.”

“He’d know I wasn’t, trust me. And don’t sell yourself short, Barclay.” Blue eyes lock onto him and scan all the way to his feet, “even a bad fitting uniform can’t hide what you have you offer.”

“Th-thanks.” He’s either going to hide behind the serving tray or ask this guy to take him home and he’s not sure which will reinforce Jame’s “puppy dog” taunt more.

The other man, sensing his discomfort, steps back, “Sorry, that was inappropriate. I know better than to flirt with someone who’s at work and can’t escape. I shouldn’t keep you from doing what you need to do.”

“I get off at nine.” He thwacks the tray over his mouth, “ow. Uh, and I don’t mind talking to you. If you want to. I, uh, I don’t want you to feel like you have to spend this whole party chatting with the help instead of having fun.”

A sigh, “I should go mingle. It’s really okay if I come back?”

“Yeah.” Barclay smiles. There’s no way this guy is coming back; if he’s here single, he’ll have a date in the next five minutes. 

Fifteen minutes later, he’s standing a respectful distance away and asking Barclay how this compares to other parties he’s worked.  

“Middle-ground. It’s not the one time I got to work my friends art gallery opening, and it’s not the wedding where someone tried to deck the bride with the chocolate fountain.”

“Oh my lord.” 

“I was in the line of fire and was washing chocolate out of my beard for an hour.”

“No one at home to do it for you?” It’s not subtle, and nor is the glance he gets over the rim of a cocktail glass. 

“Some things I’d rather not ask Mama’s help on.” 

“You still live with family?” There’s no judgement in that smooth voice, just genuine curiosity.

“Oh, no, Mama’s my...I mean she’s technically my boss but she’s also my friend, almost like an older sister. I live above where I work because she owns the whole building and takes in staff rent-free when she can. It’s nice working at her place, since I can cut my hours doing this.” He gestures to the nearby table of season fare, “which does mean I missed the attempted kabob-maiming last week. Relatedly, I’m happy this isn’t an all you can drink party.”

“You and me both. Two years ago Dean Koontz threw a punch. I think it was--oh, um, excuse me, work calls.”

This time, Barclay allows himself a moment of ogling as Stern walks away.

They pick up where they left off when the other man comes back, leading Barclay to mention he’s a cook at Amnesty Lodge .

“Wait, really? I love the Lodge, the food there is incredible.”

Barclay’s skin matches his terrible red pants, “Thanks. The head chef has been letting me do more of the menu and I’m really proud of it.”

“You should be. It’s perfect, although it’s a pity you being in the kitchen means I haven’t seen you sooner.”

He tries to say thank you again, but it comes out a garbled squeak

“Was that too far?”  

“Nope. Uh, it’s uh, just that I’m out of practice flirting or, like, getting compliments. They were pretty thin on the ground in my last relationship.”

“I see.” He’s learning to watch Stern���s eyes rather than the rest of his face, which hardly ever changes from it’s calm, professional set. Said eyes drip with disapproval. 

Old habits of defending people--even ones who are dicks to him--kicks in, “I mean, he kind of has a point. No one wants to date a six foot puppy. Guys like me are supposed to be all in-charge and shit like that.”

Stern raises an eyebrow, “maybe you’re looking in the wrong places.”

“Got any ideas on where I, uh, should be looking?” He takes a half-step towards Stern, standing up straighter. Stern doesn’t move an inch, but gives him a proud smirk. The pride is directed at Barclay.

“Lots. And I’ll share them as soon as you’re off the clock.”

“Don’t I even get a hint?” Another step.

“No, Barclay, you don’t. You’ll just have to show me you can be patient.” His tone changes, laced with the promise of a hidden prize that Barclay will do anything to earn. 

He just manages to whisper out “okay” as Stern is called away again. When he comes back, Barclay setting out clean plates and more silverware. They talk about restaurants, about Barclay’s friends and all the ways he tries to help them. Barclay endeavors to not go into full begging mode in public by looking at Sterns wrists rather than literally anywhere else on his body.

“What are those things in your cufflinks?”

“The Hodag. It’s a cryptid from Northern Wisconsin, and a really excellent example of completely fabricated cryptid that nevertheless goes on to have a life of it’s own. It’s very common in small towns, since if it goes well it acts a tourist draw. In fact, there’s some indication that even the Loch Ness Monster began as just such a hoax and-” He snaps his mouth shut, clears his throat, “sorry, I try not to talk shop at these things. It, um, tends to get on people’s nerves.”

“But I wanted to hear the rest. I mean, I have a high info-dumping tolerance because of one of my friends, but also you clearly know your stuff and I have no clue about any of it so please keep talking?”

Stern’s face is full of excitement, and he grows more animated as he talks. It’s the cutest goddamn thing Barclay’s ever seen, and he saw Dr. Harris Bonkers, his friend’s rabbit, as a baby bunny in a bow-tie. 

He clocks out two minutes after nine, and Stern is waiting for him near the doors to the staging room. 

“Are those the only clothes you have with you?”

“No. I have nicer stuff in the car that I planned on wearing.”

“Go get it. Here, I’ll walk down with you so you won’t have trouble getting back in the building.”

After jogging to his car while Stern waits for him in the gold and silver tinseled lobby, the older man guides him to an elevator. He’s pretty sure Stern is older than him; he’s a big deal, but not in some sort of prodigy way, which means he needed some time to get so well-known. 

They’re so busy coming up with Cryptid-themed ice cream flavors that Barclay doesn’t notice the floor number until they step out into a darkened hall.

If Stern brought him up here so they could have a quick fuck, he’ll jump for joy. 

“My office is this way. I figure you might like changing not in front of your co-workers or in a bathroom.”

Damn it, why does he have to be considerate instead of horny?

The office Stern brings him to is modestly sized with a huge bank of windows on the one side, facing out over the city. From here he can see apartments, stores, restaurants, all lit up in festive colors, trees dotting the little boxes of light. 

Stern locks the door, leans back against it, and nods at the clothes in Barclays arms, “Put them on.”

“Here?” He eyes the wide windows, the fact that the other man makes no move to leave or turn around.

“Yes.”

He manages, around the heart trying to hammer up his throat, “Are, uh, are you gonna watch?”

“Do you want me too?” There it is, the immediate softness in his voice, and Barclay understands that if he says no, he’ll have his privacy.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” He reaches for the vest, gets the first button and goes for the second in a hurry. 

Stern raises his hand in a ‘pause’ gesture, “Slow down.”

“Yes, yes Mr. Stern.”

A gentle laugh, “Not quite, big guy. Were we anywhere else, I’d tell you to call me Joseph. But here..” he tucks his hands casually into his front pockets, “here you call me sir.”

“Fuck”  Barclay battles himself to keep his pace slow, needing to be good but also so turned on he’s afraid he’ll start humping the furniture. He forces himself to wait a count of two between each button, gets his vest and shirt off without further instruction. Stern watches him the entire time in silent appreciation. His shoes and pants are more awkward to take off while standing, and he braces himself on the desk, not wanting to sit without permission. 

Then he’s standing there in nothing but his black boxers and the lights of town, laughter floating from the party while Stern studies him like a menu. 

“Fold every and set it on the chair.” 

He follows orders, boggles at getting hard from someone telling him to fold laundry. Jesus, Stern hasn’t even touched him. Is he even planning to? Barclay can’t decide which option he likes better. He returns to his spot in front of the desk, hands folded in front of him. 

“Should I, uh, get dressed, sir?”

Stern pushes off the door, walking casually over like a shopper regarding a display, “That depends; do you want to do back to the party with your cock hard enough to hammer nails?”  He glances down, then back up with a pointed stare. 

“N-not really.”

Stern raises an eyebrow. 

“Not really, sir.”

“Then we’ll have to do something about it.”

“Are you sure we should do it here?”

“Barclay, if we get caught, I’ll be twice as mortified as you. I’m only doing this because we’ve got this whole floor to ourselves.” He cups Barclay’s cheek and the sighs, rubbing his face against a warm palm. 

“Okay sir, I trust you.”

A moan curls up between them as Stern’s other hand runs along his chest.

“Good boy. You like to be good, don’t you, Barclay? You like taking care of people?” 

“Yes, so much sir, please, lemme be good to you.”

Joseph strokes his face, “That’s very thoughtful, Barclay. But I think it’s been awhile since someone took care of you. Would you like me to do that?”

“Please, sir.” The response is pulled from him, one of the many parts of him aching magnetically to be near to Stern. 

The other man shoves his right hand down Barclays boxers, sliding his thumb over the head once before stroking steadily up and down. 

“Holy fuck” Stern gasps, “a guy could have a lot of fun with this thing.”

“It’s all yours, sir.” 

Fuck, where did that come from?

Stern groans, tips his head to kiss across Barclays chest, murmuring as he does, “Is that what you want, Barclay? You want this” he speeds up until Barclay’s hands fly to the edge of the desk, keeping him from dropping to the floor, “to be mine?”

He whines, nodding.

Stern’s hand stops.

“Yessir”

It starts up again, “what else do you want, big guy?” He’s still kissing all over his upper body, tone nonchalant.

“You, sir, I wanna fuck you or, or you can fuUUUck me if you want, not very good at bottoming-”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Stern lightly pinches his nipple, “what else?”

“I want to blow you, and, and FUCK, I bet you’re a fucking great kisser and I want you to fucking boss me around as much as you want, wanna wear a collar, a blue one, ohfuck” Barclay scrapes his nails along the woodgrain, “fuck, sorry, that was weird-”

“No, say more” his grip tightens and to Barclay’s surprise he’s panting, “tell me everything you want, even it’s got nothing to do with sex.”

“I want, fuck, to be tied up and told how good I am, want to wear something stealth sexy out in public, want to fuck in a cabin” his mouth is fully ahead of his mind, which is concentrated entirely in his dick right now, “want to eat at every five star place in the city, want to drag you places by that fancy tie, have a new car, buy any cookbook I see, I want, oh fuckohfuck, sir, I wanna cum please, want to so bad.”

“You can cum whenever you like, big guy. But you have to kiss me while you d-” 

He cuts Stern off with a kiss, clinging to his shoulders and pouring desperate, deep sounds down his throat. Stern kisses back with precision and a pleased moan when Barclay cums in his boxers. 

Stern eases his hand out and Barclay flops against him, face buried in his neck as he rumbles out a thank you. 

“D-do you want me to blow you, sir?”

Stern kisses below his ear, “Yes, but that’s not doable right now. Unlike you, I don't have a change of clothes, and something tells me you’re a, um,” he bites Barclays ear, “messy eater.”

“Only when I’m enjoying myself, sir.” 

“You don’t have to keep calling me that, unless it helps you come down.”

“I’m okay, Joseph. Heh” he smiles, inhales a minty cologne, “I like that name. It’s classic.”

“Thanks, I picked it myself.”

Barclay chuckles, snuggles closer while ignoring the sticky underwear. 

“You know, I can give you everything you want. If you want me to.”

“Some of those are really fucking expensive, babe.”

“You really have no clue who I am, do you?” Stern steps back, moving to the other side of the desk and pulling out a packet of wet-wipes, sliding one across to Barclay before cleaning his hands.

“A really cute guy who should let me take him to dinner?” Barclay pulls down his underwear to clean the cum from his stomach.

“Ever heard of Lucky Park?”

“No fucking way. I man, I know it’s a pen name, but there’s no fucking way, a guy who’s never off the NYT Bestseller list wouldn't fuck a nobody cook.”

“If the cook was hot and interesting to talk to he would. The kitchen skills help a little.” Stern winks

“But you wrote The Peregrine Quintent,  and Red Dust, jesus christ your stuff has been movies.”

“Now you see why James was so startled; I’m Penguins golden goose. That’s why I even have time to write books on cryptids; they know to indulge me. Plus I put out at least a book every two years for them and it always makes a fortune. Do you need to sit down? You look kind of lightheaded.”

“I’m fine, uh, just trying to make sense of it all. Also I can’t sit down unless you want my bare ass on your chair.”

“Another time. I guess you’re going commando for the rest of the party, but I think you can handle it, big guy.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” He grabs his pants and pulls them on, “holy fuck, this can’t be real, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Barclay” Stern touches his arm, “it absolutely makes sense. I had so much fun talking with you, you’re such a, um, a sweetheart. And you’re built like a wet dream. If, um, if this is too much too soon, tell me to back off but I, I’m serious. I can’t remember the last time I got butterflies like this around someone, or wanted to buy things or do things just to make them smile. You clearly look after so many people in your life; will you let me look after you, at least for a little while?”

“You really want to?”

“Unlike some people, I like big men with a gentle center. You can be my six foot puppy any time. Wait, hold on, that, um, that came out weird.” Stern giggles and Barclay, now dressed, pulls him into a kiss. 

“I get it, babe. You wanna go show me off?”

“Of course. I’ll get my camera ready; we have to record your exes reaction.” Stern kisses his cheek, “after all, maybe this will teach him to know a good man when he sees one.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #author au #pre-sugar daddy au #winter fills #taz amnesty

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Goodnight, Aaron (Aaron Hotchner x OC) Chapter 5

Summary: After being grilled about his ex-girlfriend on what is meant to be a fun birthday outing, Sebastian gets some new information dropped on him by a worn-out Jack.

AN: Sorry I haven't posted in a while! Been a bit busy with job and family stuff. Hope you enjoy this chapter. This chapter is mostly unedited sorry!

Tagging: @sunlight-moonrise, @clean-bands-dirty-stories, @genevievedarcygranger, and @davidrossi-ismydad

Chapter 4 // Masterlist // AO3 Link

“They asked you to coach?”

Sebastian watched Jack run off to warm up with his team, then he turned back to Hotch who clicked the car keys to lock, “Do they know what you do for a living? And they’ve asked you to coach before? Mental.”

Hotch let out a chuckle at how utterly ridiculous Sebastian made it sound. And, truth be told, it was “mental” that Hotch was still coaching his son and their team when he still had to wrangle together his own team back at the BAU.

Sebastian adjusted his bag strap, “You need to learn to say ‘no’ to some people, Aaron.”

Hotch shook his head, playing into that teasing tone that had worked its way ito the conversation, “Well I don’t suppose you would be up for it?”

“I know nothing about football.”

“Soccer.”

“Soccer,” and Hotch laughed at the way Sebastian’s nose wrinkled as he mimicked the accent – albeit with heavy exaggeration on the vowels.

“Dave!”

Hotch’s hand raised into the air, catching the attention of his co-worker. Sebastian felt the pressure crank up to eleven as David Rossi sauntered over. He did not look like he was about to coach little league. He looked like he was about to go to one of his many villas in Europe and lounge around there for two weeks drinking wine.

 “David Rossi, this is Sebastian Porter.”

“Jack’s nanny, of course,” Rossi shook his hand heartily. Sebastian immediately wanted Rossi to be the cool uncle he never had.

He couldn’t think of anything wittier to say than this: “And you work with Aaron. On and off the pitch.”

“Couldn’t let him do it alone,”

“My ride’s here, so I’ll see you this evening. Nice meeting you, David.”

Though Sebastian was already behind schedule, he spared himself the embarrassment of his boss watching him lightly jogging over to his companions - and said companions clowning him for said light jogging.

“Aww, a lil peewee match?” Bellamy teased loudly, though not loud enough for the team to hear her.

Sebastian wanted to give her a playful shove, but he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t slide off her rollerblades deliberately, so instead he retorted, “Bullying kids, Bellamy? I thought you couldn’t stoop any lower.”

Klaus stopped rolling back and forth on his BMX, “Which one’s the boss then?”

“Wearing the white polo and shorts, not holding the clipboard.”

Klaus squinted behind his par of wholly unnecessary sunglasses, “Hmm, both are fit.”

“Come on, you’re staring,” and Sebastian twisted Klaus’ baseball cap around backwards before climbing onto the back of the bike.

As Klaus gave an indignant retort, he pushed off and began to cycle away. Sebastian’s hands gripped his shoulders tight and he opted to send a smile in his boss’ direction as opposed to a wave. Bellamy, the embarrassing mom type that she was, waved with both hands and skated backwards as she went.

Their afternoon sesh was off to a rocking start when Sebastian refused even one drink – sticking instead to a diet soda – while Bellamy and Klaus went for bottomless Bellini’s.

Bellamy discussed what children the new term had brought her. A short summary was that they were all little shits whom she adored and would protect with her life. That had been her track record for the part three years she had taught at this high school. The trio clinked glasses in celebration to her track record.

“Honestly, they’re so ready to get to using the Bunsen burners. It’s gonna be bonkers,” She beamed as a server brought her a refilled glass, “Can’t wait to bust out the copper.”

“As much as I love you talking science to me,” Klaus paused to put on a solemn mask that was cracked from the triumph he was wearing beneath, “We have to talk about Pippa while I’m still partially sober.”

When both his friends zeroed in on him whilst sipping their Bellini’s through straws, Sebastian all but exploded with excuses, “Oh my god, I get it! You told me so! It’s been a month! Can we drop it?”

“You went back to her!” Klaus ignored Sebastian’s “I know’s” with his head craning to reach over his friend’s voice, “After everything she did to you! You that desperate for attention?”

“Yeah!”

Both Bellamy and Klaus ceased their teasing, Klaus dropping back into his chair as he said, “Woah, ok, sorry dude.”

“It’s ok.”

Bellamy took Sebastian’s glass away, “Babe, that’s really depressing, you sure you haven’t been drinking?” She took a long sniff, her nose twirling around the rim before sliding it back to Sebastian, “No, he really is that deep.”

“Ha ha.”

Both Bellamy and Klaus sobered up considerably, the tone of their voices shifting into quiet support as Bellamy draped her arm around Sebastian’s shoulders, “I’m glad you got out of it, Bash.”

“Me too. And Rachael.”

“Ooo, how is Rachael?” Klaus pushed his sunglasses up his nose. How he looked like such a douchebag, shades on indoors, yet so happy with that status, Sebastian didn’t care to think about right now.

“She’s got a job in a firm now, big proper one.”

“Oooh! Can she get me out of my parking tickets?”

Suddenly the lights dimmed and Bellamy whipped out her phone, grinning behind it as Klaus looked up and around with a baby’s curiosity.

A troop of servers marched over with the birthday cake Bellamy had dropped off earlier that day. Its bright red buttercream icing Klaus went very quiet, a bashful smile glowing in the candlelight as the restaurant turned its attention to sing “Happy Birthday” to him.

“Happy Birthday, Klaus.” Bellamy and Sebastian kissed both his cheeks at the same time, a perfect photo op that one of the servers took for them.

The birthday boy was gracious enough to share his cake and give Sebastian a ride home after a few more drinks. Of water, Sebastian insisted that Klaus sober up a little so they weren’t going to crash the bike before his night out.

At the crossroads, Bellamy turned left when they went right, her arm stretching out to them like she was watching her loved one get shipped off to war. Sebastian was dropped off shortly after, just outside the block of flats, and Klaus was already off before Sebastian could tackle him with a hug. So he shouted after him. Nothing expletive, but it was enough for Klaus to look over his shoulder and smirk, swerving not a second later to avoid an incoming pedestrian.

When Sebastian entered the flat, Hotch and Rossi were in the sitting room, lounging in the settee over a bottle of whiskey artistically placed on the coffee table.

“Hey, how was the training?”

“Tough, but those kids are tougher.” Rossi raised his drink to his statement, and Sebastian thought about how he could subtly slide some adoption papers across the coffee table.

“Do you want a drink?” Hotch asked.

Already going to the kitchen, Sebastian checked in the stew he’d prepped that morning in the slow cooker, “I’m good, thanks.” He was a little peeved that he’d spent the afternoon sober, especially during the bashing of the ex-girlfriend, but he could always grab a nightcap later on. “Where’s Jack?”

“I SCORED A GOAL!”

Sebastian smile strained as he saw the state of Jack’s shorts once he rounded the corner to the kitchen. His shirt was off; clearly he was in the middle of getting changed.

“That’s brilliant, but if you come at me with them muddy keks, I’ll score a goal with you! Come back in your jammies and we’ll celebrate properly.” And he shooed Jack away to the bathroom. The star striker to be disappeared, his muddy rear skidding into his bedroom with the door closing quick behind him.

“‘Keks’?” Rossi repeated with an eyebrow raised.

So Sebastian clarified, “Trousers.”

“You mean pants.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Hotch’s so-called correction before saying again, “No, keks.”

Thankfully they saw the funny side of it, allowing a hint of strain to drop from Sebastian’s shoulders just in time for Jack to come running back in. This time, he was wearing pyjamas.

Sebastian caught him neatly and plonked him on the countertop, “Tell me all about practice!”

As Sebastian prepared the rest of dinner, Jack babbled away about the training and his teammates. His energy by comparison to the other conversation between Hotch and Rossi caused theirs to stagnate in favour of joining in. Sebastian carried Jack across to the other counters without impeding his speech, keeping an eye on him and the food, while Hotch and Rossi joined in the storytelling.

At Jack’s description of Hotch and Rossi’s demonstration of a paired-up passing game, Sebastian’s abandoned phone began to buzz.

“Sorry Jack, I gotta get this. But why don’t you set the table?” Sebastian took him back down to Earth and shuffled him in the direction of the cutlery drawer before he picked up his mobile, “Hey, what are you doing up? Go to bed, young lady.”

Rachael replied with a heftier helping of snarkasm, “I’m in bed at the moment actually. Have you rung Mum and Dad yet?”

“I have, don’t worry,”

“Ok. Just checking.”

“Texting exists, you know? Not that I don’t delight at the sound of your grumpiness.”

“Yeah, well, you’re starting to sound more American.”

Casting an eye over to see Jack was nattering away to Hotch and Rossi, Sebastian whispered, “Shut your goddamn mouth.”

“I’ll call you after work. Love you, bye.”

“Bye.”

Sebastian hung up then slapped his free palm against his face.

Hotch caught his attention, leaning ever so slightly into his range of vision with concern, “Are you alright?”

“Forgot to say I love you, she’s gonna hold that against me for five years at least.”

As the person dishing up and the last to get to the table, Sebastian sat beside Rossi with Jack opposite him and Hotch diagonally across. There was a tautness in Sebastian’s back as he tried desperately not to gauge Rossi’s reaction to his food.

Instead Rossi reminded him of their meeting earlier, “Interesting choice in mode of transport today.”

Like a deer in the headlights, Sebastian tripped his way through his explanation, “Thanks, we’re desperately trying to reclaim our youth.” Then he popped a forkful of meat into his mouth to excuse him from further conversation.

Except Jack didn’t get the memo. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”

“My sister, Rachael, she’s got a big case on tomorrow.”

“She’s a lawyer,” Rossi pointed across the table with his fork, “Hotch was a defence attorney.”

The information was so shiny and new to Sebastian, that he forgot to implement his “you’re my boss” filter and he said, “You look for ‘intimidating’ in your job descriptions?”

No time for regret, Jack once against filled the space. “Intimidating?”

“Yeah, intimidating, big into justice, likes his suit,” and instead of back down, Sebastian leant over his plate as if to tell a secret, and Jack opposite him leant close too as Sebastian said, “Your dad’s basically Batman.”

Jack’s face lit up at the comparison, one he had made in the past, and he continued to grin as he ate his stew.

“Anyway, our kid’s following up on some advice about getting my deposit back from my bedsit. Landlord’s being an absolute bad word.”

“If you want, I can take a look at it,” Hotch offered.

Sebastian looked back at Jack with fond bemusement, “Told you, your dad’s Batman, just no billions minus the brutality.”

Hotch’s cutlery slipped and collided loudly with his plate as Sebastian said, “It’s all good, thank you. I just sent him some photos of what the mattress looked like when I first moved in, should get him to give up.”

The conversation stagnated from Sebastian, still worn out word-wise from his afternoon drinking non-drinking outing, so he was grateful for the fact he finished first and Jack finished second.

“We can leave the grown-ups now,” he said in a loud whisper, already walking off with Jack to his bedroom.

Over his shoulder, he heard Rossi say not so quietly an I-told-you-so about how “men can be nannies” and that Sebastian was a good choice. While Sebastian was relieved at he had made a good impression on Rossi, he was not so much feeling the inferred sexism his boss held. Still, he was hired now. Microaggressions could be tackled when he got to them.

Cross-legged on the carpet, Jack set about demolishing the rocket. Bricks flew across his little zone of construction. One stray red brick hit Sebastian right between his sock and his cuffed jeans.

“What are we on today, bud? Pirate ship?”

But Jack was quiet. His energy levels were definitely crashing after such a big day. Sebastian gave him space to answer if he wanted, taking charge of organising the bricks into sizes for Jack to pick from.

When there was no reply for a solid minute, Sebastian asked, “You ok?”

For a while, Jack continued his silence. He was busy looking for a very specific shape of brick. His fingers searched over the top of the pile then dove into it, fishing out the perfect piece. Then he spoke.

“Batman beats up the bad guys,” Jack said, his voice hushed, “But so does Daddy.”

Sebastian blinked then recovered just as quick, “Oh I’m not sure about that.”

But Jack shook his head with his eyes still on assembling his boat, “He beat up the man who killed Mommy. Don’t tell him, it’s a secret.”

“A secret from him?” Sebastian didn’t know he was whispering too until he had already spoken.

“He doesn’t know we know. Can you make the mast please?”

And Jack held out a square block. Sebastian blinked again and accepted the piece. Clearly Jack thought this was a very casual conversation, something that Sebastian should keep from Hotch very easily. And he was making a ship.

“Jack, have you told that to anyone else?”

“No.”

“How tall do you want the mast?”

Jack measured with the space between his hands. Taking note, Sebastian continued to stack bricks until the desired height was reached, and Jack took it off his hands, placing it in the middle of the boat.

“I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want anything?”

The little guy shook his head, now completely absorbed in his construction projects. With a pat on his head, Sebastian twisted his legs around to stand and went to stand in the hallway. The door closed behind him and he pressed his forehead against the wall. He took a deep breath, rolling his head to the left, and pushed back his shoulders. A crack from his neck introduced him to the kitchen, where he tossed a half smile at Hotch and Rossi. Then he busied himself with getting that drink. A few drops of water splashed against his wrist.

“Hey Sebastian?”

Said person looked around to see Rossi rocking on the back legs of his chair, “I don’t suppose Hotch ever told you that, when you were taking your trial day, he nearly called you every hour to see how you were doing?”

“Dave,” Hotch said with something that was clearly intended to be a warning tone. The smile he was fighting to keep off his face betrayed him.

“No, he didn’t.” He hid his smirk in his glass. It dropped fast though. The Batman comments were still heavy in his mind, and now with Jack’s context on the brutality aspect, he wasn’t really jazzed to crack another joke lest he stumble across some more unfortunate information.

Rossi didn’t seem to care about that so much, “I had to micromanage his micromanaging.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t’ve minded that.” Sebastian’s foot idly dragged across the tile in front of him, “I’m sure Jack wouldn’t’ve either. And speaking of-” He pulled out his phone and pulled up the website he and Jack had browsed during breakfast, “I have a very important question for you: can we get this bouncy castle for Jack’s birthday?”

He showed the photo of the dream castle to the two men.

“You mean a ‘bounce house’?”

“No, I mean bouncy castle. He was telling me all about wanting a slide one, he’d be over the moon if he got to bring his classmates around to go on one!”

“I suppose if we removed all my furniture and knocked down the walls, we could fit it in here,” Hotch said smartly. His eyebrows were raised as he looked away from the screen at Sebastian, who snorted. God, it wasn’t even that funny.

Once again, Rossi chimed in with his brilliant contributions, saving Sebastian from utter shame, “You know, we could have the party at my home.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x oc #my writing #r: male #wc: 2k+ #series #goodnight aaron

[yandere-romanticaa]

Mad Hatter.

A special thanks to @sleepycatswise for suggesting this song for Gogol!

♡ My friends don't walk, they run.

Skinny dip in rabbit holes for fun.

Popping, popping balloons with guns, getting high off helium.

We paint white roses red,

Each shade from a different person's head

And scream that there's a killer,

Getting drunk with the blue caterpillar♡

Your fun evening had came to an abrupt end. How? You were walking home with some friends, and suddenly one of them just drops dead to the ground with blood running down their mouth and a huge kitchen knife in their back. Everyone was so shocked and confused. How did this happen?! The street was totally empty! There was no way-

Bang.

A gunshot was heard as your friend who was standing next to you suddenly had been shot in the head, with no killer visible in sight. You were shaking like mad while the girl next to you was screaming non stop. You didn't know what to do, you were frozen in your place. You only started to run once you heard the deadly cackle from behind the shadows. With a loud shriek, your friend grabbed your hand and started to run in the opposite direction. You looked back on the street and noticed that the small bush of pure white roses that were no longer pure. Their soft petals were covered in your friend's crimson blood and you bearly managed to only choke out a sob.

♡Now I'm peeling the skin off my face,

'Cause I really hate being safe.

The normals, they make me afraid

The crazy, they make me feel sane.♡

Nikolai watched you run, and oh how pretty were you! That look of absolute fear on your face, he wanted to see more of it! No, he needed to see more of it! He felt addicted to your gaze, and only seeing you making those adorable expressions made him even more eager for this little game to be over. He took of the mask that covered his eye and he could feel his heartbeat accelerate. Like the absolute mad man that he is, he laughed at the now decaying corpse beneath him, while twisting the knife even further in it. Warm blood now stained his gloves, but he didn't care. It felt good actually! Suddenly, he roughly pulled the knife from the dead girl's back as he lightly ran his tounge over the sharp blade.

Boy oh boy, this was so fun!!!

♡I'm nuts, baby, I'm mad,

The craziest friend that you've ever had

You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone

Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong

Over the bend, entirely bonkers

You like me best when I'm off my rocker,

Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed,

So what if I'm crazy? The best people are.

All the best people are crazy, all the best people are...♡

Your friend was able to drag you away to the police station, and juat before you could touch the door handle, you heard another gunshot. Both of you turned your heads and were met with the sight of a grinning clown. The air was incredibly thick, and it smelled like gunpowder and blood. You both froze in your places, feeling totally helpless. The clown just stood in front of you, the predatory grin never leaving his face as he fondled with the kinfe in his hands. It was covered in thick blood, but somehow you were able to see your own refelction in it. You saw how just how badly you were shaking, just how screwed you were. You thought that you were already scared, but once you met the clown's eyes that was when you felt a certain kind of fear that you would never forget. His eyes were focused on you, and you alone. His wicked smile grew bigger and bigger, as the horrible glint in his eyes scared you even more. You almost wet yourself from the fear, but the clown didn't do anything.

At least, not to you.

The wind was strong, and you just bearly heard the horrified shriek that came from your friend. Her wrist was completely cut off and before you knew it, the derranged clown was now behind her. He never broke eye contact with you though, even when he runned the large knife against your friends throat. His suit was completely covered in blood now and you finally had found your voice again. You were screaming so loudly, you felt as though your vocal cords were being ripped right out of your own throat. And the clown's reaction?

He smiled.

It wasn't even the same animalistic grin from earlier, no this smile was peacful. Seeing this psychopath with that expression was so wrong, but you couldn't do anything about it. His large hand was covering your mouth as he put a finger against his mouth.

He wanted you to be quiet.

How the Hell were you supposed to be quiet?! This man just killed your friends, right in front of you! You bit his hand as he gasped in shock. Before you could scream again though, he pulled your body against his and kissed you.

This psychopath was fucking kissing you.

You tasted the horrible metalic blood on his lips. He licked your lowered lip as he pressed his hand against the back of your neck, successfully keeping you in place. The cold wind blew in to your hair as your eyes remained wide, while his were closed, as if he was enjoying this. He slowly pulled away and without think you said:

"You are fucking crazy."

♡Where is my prescription?

Doctor, doctor please listen.

My brain is scattered,

You can be Alice,

I'll be the mad hatter.♡

He laughed joyfully at your statement, like you just said a funny joke. With his free hand, he fixed his hair as he gave you a chilling reply.

"Oh, I know that darling~!"

Cold sweat was running down your forehead as he lovered himself once again to your lips. He kissed you like you meant the world to him, like he couldn't live without you. Whenever he made a short pause to take in some air, he always said something.

"You're finally mine..."

"God I wanted to hold you like this for so long."

"My adorable, innocent Alice!"

"My love!"

♡ You think I'm crazy, you think I'm gone.

So what if I'm crazy? All the best people are.

And I think you're crazy too, I know you're gone,

That's probably the reason why we get along.♡

He hummed to himself as he drew back, finally letting you breathe. You gasped, and looked down at your shoes, feeling both shame and fear.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

You looked up at him, eyes totally wide. How could he say that?!? No, how could he even think that??! Seeing your reaction, he chuckled to himself.

"You never made an attempt to push me back, you know~! I am pleased to see that the feeling was mutual!"

You lost your voice completely, and your entire body felt cold and numb. You were praying, praying that this was some sort of a horrible nightmare, but the disgusting warmth of his embrace was far to real. He had paralyzed you in to fear, and the only thing you could do was stand there, while feeling the very tip of the knife being pressed to your neck.

♡ I'm nuts, baby, I'm mad,

The craziest friend that you've ever had

You think I'm psycho, you think I'm gone

Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong.

Over the bend, entirely bonkers

You like me best when I'm off my rocker.

Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed,

So what if I'm crazy? The best people are.

All the best people are crazy, all the best people are...

All the best people are crazy, all the best people are...♡

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #bsd #nikolai gogol x reader #yandere nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai gogol #nikolai gogol #nikolao gogol x reader #bsd gogol #melanie martinez lyrics #melanie martinez #mad hatter lyrics #mad hatter

[darkshadow90]

His Obsession Chapter 11

A/N: Hey guys. Here’s chapter 11. It takes place after the Gotham riots. Arthur has been taken to Arkham, and he gets some visitors. I ended up putting Joker in the story, but that will be in the next few chapters. Hope you like this one :)

Chapter 11

Ashe was confused about how she ended up in the hospital. “The hospital? But how? The last thing I remember was Arthur grabbing me before I tried to jump out of the kitchen window. Did he bring me here?” “No. After Arthur lost his shit and killed Randall, I was afraid of what might happen to you, so I was gonna call the police. Luckily, as I was on my way to a phone booth, I came across two detectives. I told them about what happened. Unfortunately, Arthur was gone by the time they got there. They found you unconscious on the bed. You weren’t responding to them, so they called for an ambulance. I’m glad I was able to get help for you in case something awful happened.” Ashe didn’t know what to say. She knew thanking him wasn’t enough. “I really owe you big time, Gary. But why? Why did you help me?” “It was nothing, really. I couldn’t just leave you there. It was the right thing to do. When Randall mentioned he saw your name in the papers, I knew you were the same girl who was missing, and that Arthur must’ve kidnapped you. I just...had to get you out if there somehow. I had no idea how sick he was. I knew he had problems, but for him to kidnap you, and then kill Randall like that...it’s bonkers. I thought I should wait with you until you woke up. The detectives want to talk to you, so I should probably let them know you’re awake.” Ashe nodded. “Gary?” He turned back to her. “Would you mind staying with me for awhile? I don’t want to be alone right now. After everything that’s happened, I just...” she choked up mid sentence trying not to sob. “I just need someone here.” “I understand.” “Thanks, Gary.” He nodded and left.

A few minutes later, Gary came back with the detectives. “Hi, Ashe. I’m detective Burke and this is detective Garrity. We have a few questions we’d like to ask you. Are you feeling up to it?” “Sure.” “Great. As you know, we’ve been looking for a man.” “Arthur.” “Yes, that’s right. Arthur Fleck. Can we ask you some questions about him?” “Go ahead.” “When we found you in his apartment, you were heavily sedated. Were you aware he had sedatives?” Ashe’s stomach dropped. “No. Are you saying he drugged me? Is that why I feel so sluggish?” “Most likely yes.” ‘That crazy bastard drugged me! He drugged me and I had no idea! Fuck. He could have done anything and I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.’ “Did he mention anything about murdering people on a subway a few weeks ago? What about his mother, Penny? We found the body of his co-worker in his apartment.” “Easy on the questions, Burke. She’s a victim, not a suspect.” “Right. Sorry,” detective Burke said. Ashe began sobbing uncontrollably. “Yes. I’m sorry. He said he killed those three guys because they were harassing a girl on the subway and beating him up. He told me he killed his mom because she lied to him his whole life and let her boyfriend abuse him. And he killed Randall because he thought he betrayed him. In Arthur’s diary there’s an entry that mentioned him being fired for bringing a gun to the kids hospital. It mentioned Hoyt told Arthur that Randall told Hoyt Arthur tried to buy a gun off him the week before. I’m sorry. I should’ve done something. I know one of you called. I wanted to call you back, I really did, but Arthur was right there. I was scared. I was worried he might snap completely. I’m sorry.” Ashe was still sobbing. “Ashe, it’s alright. You were being held against your will. You’re not in trouble. But we need to find Arthur, okay? Can you tell us where he was going?” It suddenly hit Ashe like a truck. “Oh, no. Murray! He said he was going on the Murray Franklin show tonight. Please, I have this feeling that something terrible will happen. You have to stop him!” Gary turned on the TV. It was too late. The news was already reporting Murray Franklin’s death. They said a clown named Joker shot him. Ashe knew who it was. She didn’t want to see it. She covered her face with the pillow. Gary and the detectives watched in horror. Ashe heard Arthur’s voice. “You get what you deserve!” She heard the gunshot and the screams of the audience. Arthur’s maniacal laughter was the last thing she heard before the reporter was back on the screen. “Thankfully, Joker has been apprehended and will be taken to Arkham State Hospital. Though we still advise everyone to keep their doors and windows locked to remain safe from the riots.” “It’s finally over.” Burke sighed in relief. Ashe didn’t feel the same way. Her gut told her it was far from over.

It had been almost a week since Arthur was taken to Arkham. During that time, he received two visitors. They wore clown masks to hide their faces. They considered themselves followers. On the night of the riot, they helped Arthur escape police custody before he was apprehended for the second time that night. “Listen, boys. I need you to do me a favor. There’s a girl asleep in my apartment. Her name is Ashe. I need someone to be there with her when she wakes up, and make sure she’s safe from harm. She has anxiety issues and a terrible fear of clowns. I planned on being back in time to get changed so she wouldn’t have to see me as a clown, but that’s not gonna happen so that’s why I need you. Do whatever you have to do to keep her safe, and make sure you’re not wearing those masks around her. Come to Arkham in a few days, and let me know how things are going, got it?” “Sure, boss.” It was time for them to give an update, and unfortunately they had bad news. “Looks like some fans if yours have come to visit,” the orderly said. Arthur sat there smoking his cigarette and shrugged, signaling to let them in. “So? How is she?” “Boss, we have bad news. We did everything you said, but when we got to your place, she was gone.” Arthur pressed down on the table so hard his knuckles were turning white. It made the two men nervous. Arthur relaxed his grip on the table and sighed. “I should’ve been more careful. The cops must have found her. I should’ve known they’d take my angel away from me. I need to get her back.” “Don’t worry, boss. We’ll find her. It might not be easy to break you out of here. They aren’t gonna let you walk out of here.” “Of course they won’t, but think of the fun we’re gonna have with them.”

#arthur fleck #joker movie #joker 2019 #joker fandom

[glitterandsalt]

SwTwitter is bonkers RN

Clown porn lady gets pissed off bc a black male swer informs her that ahaego is actually r*pe face and she sticks her fingers in her ears and makes all sorts of excuses up to and including "well it makes me good money so I'm not gonna stop!" And then starts to try and turn the community on the swer who tried to educate her bc white people hate being told they're being ignorant and racist.

So it's a clusterfuck of people to mute and block and shitty opinions.

People are SO unwilling to let go of things and reconsider what they're doing and its so sad bc it's often white women making money off of nasty shit like this and people praising them for it.

#thoughts #my op

[blacklightsystem]

MUSE AESTHETICS   :   HORROR EDITION.

——————      REPOST   ,   DON’T REBLOG.

——————      BOLD WHATEVER APPLIES.    FEEL FREE TO ADD STUFF IN ANY CATEGORY.

GOTHIC HORROR.

gaslights.   corsets.   ballrooms.   candlelight.   mist.   starless nights.   full moons.  cobbled streets.   horse-drawn carriages.   mysterious strangers.   bogs.   moors.  forests.   mountains.   castles.   velvet.   silver.   brass.   gold.   jewels.   domino masks.   the opera.  dangerous romances.   tragic romances.   violins.   roses.   lilies.   empty graves.   crosses.   cemeteries.   snow.   ice.   the gallows.   crows.   milk-white skin.  ambiguous illness.  fangs.   pointed nails.   something howling in the night.   capes.   gloves.   top hats.   straight razors.   lightning.   pipe organs.   underground caverns.   bats.   mice.   rats.   ravens.   cats.   pearls.   attics.   talismans.   axes.   wood.  isolation in a room full of people.   vampires.   werewolves.   ghosts.   coffins.   western europe.   eastern europe.   bones.   churches.   catacombs.   mausoleums.  spiders.   books.

CLASSIC HORROR.

black   &   white.   powder puffs.   red lipstick.   winged eyeliner.   white kitten heels.  black lace lingerie.   icy blue eyes.   rain.   abandoned cars.   skeletons.   acid.  poison.   voyeurism.   switchblades.   strangling.   overcoats.   looking over your shoulder.   trans-atlantic accents.   private detectives.   dinner parties.   haunted mansions.   alcohol in glass decanters.   cobwebs.   perfect blonde curls.   kitchen knives.   shock.   cellars.  dust.  dark alleys.   empty streets.   driving at night.   horn-rimmed glasses.   radiation.  zombies.   serial murder.   paranoia.   the city.   witches.  the devil.   cannibalism.  conspiracies.   amulets.   abject terror.   the american south.   the american northeast.    england.   analog cameras.

SLASHERS.

bloodbaths.   massacres.   wanton nudity.   newspapers.   leather jackets.   letterman jackets.   converse sneakers.   obscured faces.   social unrest.   bonfires.   lakes.  babysitters.   suburbia.   high school.   lockers.   dead leaves in the fall.   jack-o’-lanterns.   outdated television sets.   nightmares.   psychiatrists.   hospitals.  unstoppable forces.   gunfire.   police.   landline telephones.   household objects turned into improvised weapons.   halloween.   secrets.   revelations.   character masks.  scrunchies.   queerness.   wild curls.   morbid humor.   jeering children.  parties.   fire.   swearing.  revulsion.   california.   the american midwest.   ambulances.

PARANORMAL HORROR.

malevolent spirits.   seances.   spells.   missing bodies.   hidden graves.   white noise.   static.   flickering lights.   rings of salt.   demons.   poltergeists.   dark histories.   old buildings.  cold air.   mausoleums.   wells.   urban exploration.   a dog barking at something you can’t see.   black ooze.   old photographs.   faces you can swear you’ve seen before  but can’t for the life of you figure out where.   dark bodies of water.   crucifixes.   priests.   possession.   exorcisms.   dolls.   jump scares.

CRYPTID   &   URBAN LEGEND HORROR.

aliens.   blinding light.   dark woods.   driving at night.   claw-marks.   bite-marks.   men in black.   memory loss.  dismembered bodies.   sewers.   flashlights.   cell phones.   video cameras.   cars with tinted windows.   abandoned houses.   unlabeled cassette tapes.   bugs.   big cities.   urban crimes.  clowns.   something rustling outside your window. glowing light.   unsolved mysteries.   suburbia.   mirrors.   the american pacific northwest.   the american midwest.   the american east coast.   hiking   /   backpacking.

THRILLERS.

daylight.   fluorescent lighting.   morgues.   asylums.   unwavering eye contact.  tension.   lit rooms with no one inside them.   a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed.  steely gazes.   paperwork.   anagrams.   codes.   convicted killers.  missing persons.  law enforcement.   federal agents.  small towns.   suspicion.   paranoia.   subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots.

TAGGED   BY   :   Nobody, saw it and thought it looked interesting

TAGGING   :  Whoever wants to do it, go bonkers

[bountyofbeads]

https://www.thedailybeast.com/mueller-indictment-just-a-hint-of-roger-stones-bonkers-email-abuse-of-frenemy-randy-credico?ref=scroll

IT'S GOING TO BE FUN WATCHING👀 KARMA COME FULL CIRCLE AS ROGER STONE SPENDS HIS "TIME IN THE BARREL" 👍

‘I Will Piss on Your Grave’: Emails Reveal Roger Stone’s Abuse of Frenemy Randy Credico

‘You crossed a red line,’ said Credico after his dog was threatened. ‘Rot in hell,’ Stone replied.

By Betsy Woodruff |Published 01.26.19 12:14 AM ET | The Daily Beast | Posted January 26, 2019 |

On April 9, 2018, Roger Stone sent an email that would play a role in his future arrest. Though it wasn’t the only reason he was hauled into a Florida courtroom on Friday morning, Special Counsel Robert Mueller quoted portions of it in his indictment of the Trump ally—an indictment that shook Washington and added an absurdist edge to the Mueller probe.

The email, which The Daily Beast obtained before a grand jury indicted Stone on several charges, shows just how irate Stone was about an acquaintance, Randy Credico. The exchange began when Credico emailed a group of people on the evening of April 9, 2018, about what he called an upcoming “media tour.”

“It’s the “RANDY IS FULL OF SHIT “ tour Co- sponsored by Jack Daniels and Pablo Escobar,” Stone replied.

In another email, about an upcoming Credico appearance on MSNBC, Stone speculated that he would be able to sue Credico over comments he might make.

“Send me your address,” Stone wrote. “I bet I can get you served in a lawsuit the very next morning.”

“Remember to bathe,” he added.

Another email included more invective.

“When I wipe my ass what’s on the toilet paper is worth more than You are,” Stone wrote.

“Your threats are a violation of state and federal law,” Credico replied.

Then Stone sent the email Mueller would quote portions of.

“I know u are a dumb shit but read the Constitution,” he wrote.

I have a constitutional right to call you a lightweight pantywaist cocksucker drunk asshole piece of shit and I just did

You are a rat. A stoolie. You backstab your friends-run your mouth my lawyers are dying Rip you to shreds

I’m going to take that dog away from you. Not a fucking thing you can do about it either because you are a weak broke piece of shit

I will prove to the world you’re a liar

“You don't have a constitutional right to threaten me and especially not threaten my dog… you crossed a red line,” Credico retorted. Stone had threatened to steal his service dog.

“Rot in hell,” Stone replied.

A month later, they had another semi-incomprehensible exchange that included accusations of drug abuse and financial problems. Stone emailed Credico, “I will piss on your grave.”

A few weeks after that later, Stone and Credico had another dramatic exchange.

“You are a pathetic loser,” Stone wrote on May 21. “Let’s see who’s around a year from now and who isn’t cocksucker”

“Another one of your threats,” Credico replied.

“Not a threat. A prediction. How you feeling champ ?” Roger replied.

The Daily Beast shared screenshots of the emails with Stone’s lawyer, Grant Smith. When asked if he had any comment, Smith replied, “No.”

After publication, Smith said Mueller was misusing the emails.

“You are presenting things that are completely out of context with a decades long relationship,” he texted. “These two people talk like that to one another for years and years, it is nothing unusual and it certainly does not rise to the level of what the special counsel’s office charged.”

Martin Stolar, a lawyer for Credico, declined to comment. “Randy will make public statements concerning the indictment if and when he’s called to testify.” he said.

Stone and Credico’s relationship—the link between a political arch-villain and a New York stand-up comic—has found its way into the investigation of the century. And it highlights one of the most amusing realities of the special counsel's into Russian meddling in the 2016 election: Mueller, a notoriously serious and straight-faced law man, has spent a huge amount of time dealing with clowns.

Stone, for his part, is basically a political performance artist. He spent his decades-long career in the public eye enmeshing himself in scandals, lobbing wild-eyed accusations at his critics, and honing the practice of wildly over-the-top political dirty tricks. He also wrote a column on men’s fashion for The Daily Caller.

He wore a top hat to Trump’s inauguration. He paraded around the 2016 Republican National Convention alongside conspiracy-monger Alex Jones while sporting a T-shirt accusing Bill Clinton of rape. He suggested Trump fans should storm the hotel rooms of RNC delegates who didn’t support Trump. He got booted from Twitter and banned from CNN.

He ran a lobbying firm with Paul Manafort. He got fired from Bob Dole’s campaign for putting out a newspaper ad for swingers. He starred in a Netflix documentary. He left the Trump campaign under contested circumstances and endeared himself to the internet conspiracy community, even questioning the scientific consensus on vaccines.

This is the man Mueller has dogged for months.

Credico, whose communications with Stone featured in his indictment, is also an ur-eccentric. As a comedian and drug-legalization activist, he drew notoriety for marching into the New York State Capitol dressed as the ancient Greek philosopher Diogenes, complete with a toga and a fake beard. Once there, he protested the state’s drug laws by lighting up a joint.

Credico is an expert at mimicking other people’s voices, impersonating Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan or Donald Trump at the drop of a hat. A small, white long-haired dog named Bianca is his constant companion. He even took her along for questioning by Mueller’s team.

Both men drew Mueller’s interest—Credico as a witness, Stone as a target—because of their shared interest in WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange. Credico, a self-described lefty, has long been a fan of WikiLeaks for revealing government secrets. Stone, meanwhile, wanted to get to Assange during the 2016 campaign in the his site had emails Hillary Clinton hadn’t made public.

A few weeks before the election, Credico interviewed Assange on his radio show. He would later visit the Ecuadorian embassy in London. The two men exchanged emails about Wikileaks before Assange started dumping emails stolen from Clinton’s campaign chairman, John Podesta. And Stone also made a series of cryptic, apparently prescient, statements about Wikileaks, which generated noisy speculation that he was getting information from inside the embassy.

After the election, when Special Counsel Mueller started investigating potential coordination between the Kremlin and Trumpworld, he soon zeroed in on Stone. As Mueller questioned a host of Stone’s long-time associates, congressional investigators grilled Stone himself.

Credico, in turn, faced questions about his relationships with WikiLeaks, ties to Stone, and alleged work as an intermediary between Stone and Assange. Stone had hinted in the past that Credico connected him to WikiLeaks, while Credico has long denied acting as any sort of go-between.

As those probes unfolded, Stone grew increasingly agitated. He told reporters he expected to be charged, and he lambasted Mueller for running a witch hunt. A few days before his indictment, he texted The Daily Beast to say he would expose monstrous misconduct by Mueller’s team if indicted.

On Friday morning, it was clear Stone’s actions after Mueller’s probe started had created his most immediate legal problems. The indictment alleges that he lied to Congress about his communications with Credico and another associate, Jerome Corsi; that he obstructed an official proceeding; and that he tampered with an unnamed witness, known to be Credico. And it cites the email printed above as one example of a statement “intended to prevent Person 2 from cooperating with the investigations.”

That’s how a foul-mouthed exchange that reads like it's written on the wall of a dive-bar bathroom found its way into what’s arguably the most geopolitically consequential criminal investigation in decades.

#donald trump #u.s. news #politics #trump administration #republican politics #legal issues #president donald trump #trump #trump scandals #republican party #russia investigation #us: news #2016 election #politics and government #white house #criminal-justice #elections 2016 #must reads #robert mueller #roger stone

[vileart]

Beadledoom Dramaturgy: Familia de la Noche @ Edfringe 2017

As part of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2017, 

Supported by Greenwich Theatre and produced by Familia de la Noche

BEADLEDOM: alpha and BEADLEDOM: Omega (clown)

Familia de la Noche return with two shows

BEADLEDOM: alpha and BEADLEDOM: Omega (Clown)

performed on alternate days at Underelly Cowgate (Iron Belly) from 4 – 27 August at 2.50pm.  Using their trademark style of clowning, music and puppetry the company looks at life and death. 

What was the inspiration for this performance?

The inspiration for Beadledom came from three different directions. 

The first was the idea of inspiration itself. What inspires people to make decisions in their lives and how are those decisions coloured by what is around us. What holds us back from reaching where we want to be and what stops us from making connections.  Secondly, we wanted to work with two of our favourite performers, Dott Cotton and Edward Cartwright and to shape the performance around their particular skills. 

Thirdly we wanted to look as some big questions about life and death and our attitudes and beliefs towards them. But rather than approaching abstract ideas in an abstract way we wanted to form narratives around them, making them personal rather than simply intellectual.

Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas? 

I think it’s one of the best. Our approach is to put our ideas out there, allow people to absorb them and form their own opinion. For us it’s non-confrontational and open and allows people time to feel and digest before discussing, which is an opportunity you don’t always get. We never think what we are doing is “right”, we are not trying to impress an opinion on anyone. It’s an offer and we want to know what people think in response.

How did you become interested in

making performance?

 When I was about 14 I watched a show. It was a mixture of dance, circus, straight acting, crazy design with mud and water everywhere. It was epic and bonkers but made total sense and I thought to myself – I want to do that. A few years of acting down the line and I saw another show. It had dance and circus and a field of Christmas trees and I thought to myself – I want to make that, just watching wasn’t quite enough. For me performance has always been about telling stories in the most inventive and engaging way – I love watching but I love making even more.

Is there any particular approach to the making of the show?

For us the story will always be the most important thing. It’s what we do best. Once we had our basic concept we moved straight on to finding our characters and working out ways for them to navigate and explore that concept. We made our lives a bit more difficult than usual as both the Beadledoms are one person shows and both are plays without words. This means we examined really carefully what we mean by character. The music, set, projections and audience are all characters in the pieces which gives a really inclusive feel to the performance. 

Does the show fit with your usual productions?

These shows draw together of lots of things we’ve learnt from making our previous shows. They are strongly character and narrative led and we are using shadow puppetry and projection, so they definitely look and feel like a Familia show. We’re also pushing ourselves this year, making two shows that jigsaw together, affect each other but which can also stand alone is a big challenge. Take away the words and they are even more so. We are really excited about them. They show how the company has evolved and the direction we are heading.

What do you hope that the audience will experience?

 We want the audience to be a part of the journey that our characters are taking – They are one of the characters in the room (although if you live in dread of audience participation don’t worry, no one gets picked on!) and they play a different role in each of the shows. We want them to be swept through an hour, laugh, cry, be on the edge of their seats, come out of the theatre, have a coffee, think about what they saw and then realise that nobody spoke.

What strategies did you consider towards shaping this audience experience?

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Once we had realised that the audience was a character in the shows our strategies centred around making them feel like they were in a role. At the same time we didn’t want that to feel forced or make anyone feel uncomfortable. We looked at way of gently involving them and suggesting the position they are in without taking away the fact that they are watching a show. We want the experience to enjoyable and fun.

Set in Beadledom, an infinite office block and the headquarters of the Universe, Familia have created a pair of shows – α (alpha) and Ω (omega) – that look at what makes humans tick; what is the difference between a brilliant flash of life and a dull flicker? 

The Beadledoms are twins, but not identical. They are designed to be viewed individually but also jigsaw together to make a giant, glorious, messy, sad, happy, beautiful story; Beadledom α alpha: follows the story of Max (Ed Cartwright; Les Enfants Terribles, The Celestial Ape, Vaults Festival and ITV; Sherlock Holmes) a Beadledom administrator on α-shift as he toils away populating the universe with life - until a catastrophic cosmos malfunction leaves Max facing the biggest system reset of all time. Beadledom Ω omega: follows the story of Deborah (Dott Cotton - Les Enfants Terribles/London Hippodrome), a Beadledom administrator on Ω-shift as she slogs away removing life from the universe. But she is obsessed with life, she longs to create one. Maybe today is her lucky day.

‘What it would be like to stroll through the inside of Tim Burton's and Terry Gilliam's minds’ SuchSmallPortions.com

Familia de la Noche is an award-winning theatre company creating shows that are funny, affecting, charming and raucously entertaining. The company won the ThreeWeeks Editors’ Award in 2015 for creating “consistently outstanding work”. In 2017 they became supported artists at Greenwich Theatre and were part of 2016 ACW Wales in Edinburgh showcase.

LISTINGS INFORMATION: α (alpha) will be performed from 4-26 August at Underbelly Cowgate, 2.50pm. Dates 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20, 22, 24, 26.

LISTINGS INFORMATION: Ω (omega) will be performed from 3-27 August at Underbelly Cowgate, 2.50pm. Dates 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, 15, 17, 19, 21, 23, 25, 27. 

Both shows are at Iron Belly and Tickets from £7.30

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