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Lirik Right Now

who'st he puss now

Ode to a Not Puss Wrecks The Many Faces of The F** It All* Preface In the city of Thebes, where truth is twisted and power corrupts, a fierce woman rises to shatter illusions and reclaim her destiny. Known only as The F*** It All, she refuses to be defined by names, titles, or the lies spun by those who seek to control her. Her story is one of rebellion, self-invention, and unapologetic defiance—a modern myth wrapped in the language of Shakespeare and the spirit of a revolution. This time, she’s not just surviving—she’s about to wreck his world and fix it all at the same damn time. Call her The F*** It All Wrecks, because she’s the wrecking ball no one saw coming—breaking down the old and building up the new in one unstoppable force. Characters The F* It All Wrecks** Once known by many names, she shattered her own identity to escape the suffocating control of her father, King Laius. She is a master of self-reinvention and survival, having learned early that in Thebes, truth is a weapon and names can be chains. With a sharp tongue, a protective spell, and a refusal to play by anyone else’s rules, she stands as a living paradox: both everywhere and nowhere, both legend and outcast. She claims her own air rights and answers to no one. Now, she’s ready to wreck the system that tried to break her—and fix what truly matters. King Laius (King Lay-us) The manipulative king of Thebes, whose name sounds like a cruel joke: “Lay-us”—because he won’t lay The F*** It All or her sister ever again. Once a predator cloaked in royal power, Laius now finds himself outwitted and outplayed by his own daughters. His attempts to control and “lay” claim to them have been spectacularly thwarted, leaving him grasping at shadows and empty threats. King Lay-us? More like King ‘Won’t Lay Us’—he’s all talk, no touch. And now, he’s about to get wrecked. Jocasta Queen of Thebes and mother to The F*** It All, Jocasta is caught between two worlds: loyalty to her husband and a growing sense of what’s right. She’s spent years ignoring the cracks in her family’s foundation, but as her daughter’s rebellion grows, Jocasta is forced to confront her own complicity and decide where her true loyalties lie. Echo (Sister) Echo is The F*** It All’s fiercely loyal younger sister. Quick-witted and unafraid, she’s always been her sibling’s confidante and co-conspirator. Echo has a knack for mimicry and misdirection, often running interference to protect her sister from Laius’s schemes. She’s the only one who knows some of The F*** It All’s secrets, and she’s ready to stand beside her, no matter the cost. The Chorus A collective of sharp-tongued commentators, the Chorus serves as the voice of Thebes—sometimes wise, sometimes foolish, always entertaining. They break the fourth wall, offer comic relief, and aren’t afraid to call out the absurdity of the city’s drama. Their commentary blends Shakespearean flourish with modern sarcasm, keeping the audience grounded (and laughing) as the story unfolds. Agent Gray A shadowy figure from outside Thebes, Agent Gray represents the meddling bureaucracy that tries—and fails—to make sense of the city’s chaos. Tasked with “investigating” The F*** It All, Gray is perpetually confused, always a step behind, and ultimately powerless in the face of Thebes’s surreal politics and shifting truths. The People of Thebes Ordinary citizens, easily manipulated by Laius’s propaganda and the Chorus’s rumors. They are the comic relief, sometimes wise and sometimes clueless, reflecting the confusion and absurdity of living in a city where reality changes with every rumor. Thebes is a city drowning in contradictions—prosperous yet plagued by confusion, ruled by a king whose grip on truth is as fragile as it is tyrannical. The F*** It All, once a pawn in her father’s game, has shattered her identity into fragments, blinding the world to her true self. With a protective spell and unyielding spirit, she fights to expose Laius’s lies, reclaim her name
Ms_Thirteen · 13.4K Views

I can set you just right

The boardroom was a wall of glass and judgment. At exactly 8:59 AM, Arielle pushed through the doors in a sharp navy dress that clung to her like confidence had been stitched into every seam. Her heels echoed across the floor as she approached the long, polished table where half a dozen stone-faced executives sat, murmuring over papers and steaming coffee. Dominic was already seated at the head of the table. He didn't look at her. Not at first. But he felt her enter. Just like gravity feels the moon. She took her spot near the screen, placed the tablet in front of her, and exhaled slowly. "You ready?" Dominic asked quietly, his voice low, unreadable. She turned to him with a sharp smile. "Born ready." He finally met her gaze—and for a second, something flickered behind his eyes. Not approval. Not yet. But something… closer than before. "Gentlemen," Dominic said to the table. "This is Arielle Sinclair. She'll be walking you through the market projections and proposed strategy updates for Q3." One of the older men raised a brow. "Her?" Arielle didn't flinch. "Yes. Me," she said, smiling sweetly. "Try to keep up." There was a pause—half stunned, half amused—and then, silence She launched into her presentation. And she nailed it. Clear. Sharp. Confident. She wasn't just parroting facts; she owned the numbers. Her explanations were quick, her slides precise, and her delivery unapologetically fierce. For the first time, they weren't looking at her legs or her lipstick. They were looking at her mind. And Dominic? He watched every second like a man watching a match ignite in a room full of gas. At one point, their eyes locked—and she saw it. A crack in his armor. Not desire. Not annoyance. But something like… respect. And it made her stomach flip in a way no designer bag ever had. When she concluded with a succinct, "Any questions?" the room was quiet. Then, one of the board members nodded. "Well done, Miss Sinclair. Concise and well-structured." Dominic didn't say a word. But his fingers drummed once against the table. A silent approval. The meeting ended. As the board members filed out, Dominic remained seated, watching her. She turned to him slowly. "Well?" she asked. He stood, approached, and said nothing until he was directly in front of her. "You surprised them." "And you?" His gaze dropped to her lips for a split second before meeting her eyes again. "I don't surprise easily." She stepped closer. "You didn't think I could do it." "I knew you could," he said, voice dark and steady. "I just didn't know if you would." She tilted her head. "So what now?" His eyes raked over her—not with lust, but with something more dangerous. Calculating. Hungry. "Now," he said slowly, "I stop holding back." She inhaled sharply. "What does that mean?" "It means if you're staying in this game, you better be ready to lose sometimes." She licked her lips. "I never lose." He smirked—slow, wolfish. "We'll see." And he walked out first. But this time? She followed with her chin high, her stride proud, and fire crackling in her chest. She hadn't just passed the test. She'd lit the room on fire. The hallway was quiet after the boardroom storm, but Arielle's heels still echoed like a victory march. She was glowing. Not just from the adrenaline of her flawless presentation, but from something else—something hotter, deeper. The way Dominic had looked at her afterward wasn't just professional respect. It was a crack in his walls. And she intended to widen it. She pressed the button for the elevator, and just as the doors slid open, a shadow fell over her shoulder. Dominic. Of course. He stepped in beside her without a word, towering, silent, composed. The doors closed. Silence. Tension. Air that thickened with each passing floor. She stood beside him, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat rolling off his body. Close enough to catch a whiff of his cologne—clean, dark, devasta
STAYCE · 17.8K Views
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