Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2026-02-11 10:31 am
rionaleonhart) wrote2026-02-11 10:31 am
Entry tags:
Much Like The Cornley Drama Society, I Should Probably Just Stop.
Here's the seventh roundup of my fills for this year's Three-Sentence Ficathon! Another instalment that's entirely about The Goes Wrong Show; I have far too much fun writing fanfiction about these idiots.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris/Robert, 90 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'smut but the writer runs out of sentences before the characters get to come'.
"Now, Robert, remember we've only got three sentences to get this done," Chris says, "so, ah, so – ah – don't speak before we're finished."
He closes his eyes and surrenders himself to the sensation, half pain and half pleasure, this battering ram of a man inside him – closer, closer, one more sentence should do it—
"While we're here," Robert says, conversationally, "I wanted to discuss the cast list for the next play," and Chris resigns himself to the fact that neither of them is going to get what they want.
The Goes Wrong Show, Robert/Sandra, 130 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'cunnilingus during menstruation'.
The leadup to their production of Dracula is a hectic one: Sandra is incapacitated by period cramps; the fake blood has gone missing, and Robert is threatening not to come on stage as Dracula if he isn’t correctly equipped; it’s starting to look like they simply might not have the cast to put on this play at all.
But Annie steps into the role of Mina, and Robert bursts onto the set at the appropriate moment with a faceful of blood; it’s impressively grotesque, honestly slightly overdone, but Chris is just relieved that they haven’t lost any lead characters.
“Where did you find the blood?” he asks, after the play; Robert and Sandra exchange shifty, smiling glances, and Chris abruptly decides he doesn’t need to know, actually.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 130 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'permanent bodyswap'.
“I demand my body back, Chris; I demand my voice back; I refuse to live out the rest of my days as this pathetic specimen of a man.”
“For God’s sake, Robert, I’m not happy about this either!”
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“What do you mean by ‘pathetic specimen’?”
“Right,” Robert says. “If we don’t have a way to reverse this, our first priority is to work out how I can still perform as my true body on stage.”
“While I’m inside it?” Chris asks, incredulous. “You can’t exactly wear me like a glove puppet.”
“I’ll have to learn ventriloquism, I suppose,” Robert says. “You will have to follow my performance instructions to the letter. To the letter, Chris.”
“This is not our first priority.”
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris/Robert, 70 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'I loved you first'.
"I'm not happy about this, Robert," Chris says, "but I think I need to explain my behaviour: I've developed certain... feelings for you, which I'm sure will pass sooner or—"
"Well, I fell in love with you ages ago," Robert says, promptly, "so I win."
Chris stares at him for a good thirty seconds before Robert adds, "Oh, right, should we kiss or something?"
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 90 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'the most outrageous "silent communication" you can think of'.
“We were on stage, Chris; I couldn’t exactly go up and start talking about issues with the production, or it would have distracted the audience, so I was forced to find nonverbal methods to communicate.”
“Distracted the—” Chris chokes for a moment on his own incredulity, has to draw in a breath – “Robert, you stripped off and pointed at your penis; what could that possibly be intended to convey?”
“My scrotum, Chris, my scrotum,” Robert says, impatiently; “the issue is that we don’t have any choreography for the ballroom scene.”
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 270 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'allow me to watch you touch yourself'.
“I’ve been seeking out various new experiences to inform my acting lately,” Robert says. “Horse riding and topiary and so on.”
“Are there many plays about topiarists?” Chris asks.
“I thought you might be able to assist. If you’ll allow me to watch you touch yourself—”
Chris drops his script. “What?”
“I already have experience at first hand, so to speak,” Robert says. “But I’ve never seen it from the outside. I thought it would be informative.”
“This is—” Is this conversation really happening? “This is completely inappropriate, Robert! And unnecessary! I’m certainly not planning to include that sort of filth in any of the drama society’s plays.”
“Give it some thought, if you’re unsure.”
“I am perfectly sure that this isn’t going to happen, Robert.”
“Whenever you next happen to feel like touching yourself, consider calling me in as a witness. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I don’t,” Chris says.
“You don’t what?”
“Touch myself,” Chris says. “I never have. So I can promise you’re asking entirely the wrong person.”
“Never?” Robert echoes, incredulous. “What, do you not know how?”
“I – I mean, I have some idea of the theory, but – look, it doesn’t matter; I just think it’s a distasteful way to spend one’s time.”
“Do you want to watch me?” Robert asks. “I could teach you.”
Chris stares at him.
“Actually,” Robert adds, “if you could describe the experience from your perspective, I’d appreciate it. Not the same as witnessing it myself, of course, but I’m sure it would still be of use.”
“Robert,” Chris says, “I absolutely beg you to stop talking about this.”
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 60 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'everyone has off days'.
"Everyone has off days, you know," Robert says, "but the important thing is never to abandon the pursuit of artistic perfection."
"Robert," Chris says, reluctantly raising his head from his hands, "that is the fifth time in a row that one of our plays has maimed a member of the audience."
Robert shrugs; "I didn't say how many off days."
I've apparently written... fifty fills for this year's ficathon? Fifty? Is that right? That doesn't feel like it can be right. I hadn't realised it was so dangerous to go into Three-Sentence Ficathon season with a specific fandom firmly occupying my mind.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris/Robert, 90 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'smut but the writer runs out of sentences before the characters get to come'.
"Now, Robert, remember we've only got three sentences to get this done," Chris says, "so, ah, so – ah – don't speak before we're finished."
He closes his eyes and surrenders himself to the sensation, half pain and half pleasure, this battering ram of a man inside him – closer, closer, one more sentence should do it—
"While we're here," Robert says, conversationally, "I wanted to discuss the cast list for the next play," and Chris resigns himself to the fact that neither of them is going to get what they want.
The Goes Wrong Show, Robert/Sandra, 130 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'cunnilingus during menstruation'.
The leadup to their production of Dracula is a hectic one: Sandra is incapacitated by period cramps; the fake blood has gone missing, and Robert is threatening not to come on stage as Dracula if he isn’t correctly equipped; it’s starting to look like they simply might not have the cast to put on this play at all.
But Annie steps into the role of Mina, and Robert bursts onto the set at the appropriate moment with a faceful of blood; it’s impressively grotesque, honestly slightly overdone, but Chris is just relieved that they haven’t lost any lead characters.
“Where did you find the blood?” he asks, after the play; Robert and Sandra exchange shifty, smiling glances, and Chris abruptly decides he doesn’t need to know, actually.
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 130 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'permanent bodyswap'.
“I demand my body back, Chris; I demand my voice back; I refuse to live out the rest of my days as this pathetic specimen of a man.”
“For God’s sake, Robert, I’m not happy about this either!”
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“What do you mean by ‘pathetic specimen’?”
“Right,” Robert says. “If we don’t have a way to reverse this, our first priority is to work out how I can still perform as my true body on stage.”
“While I’m inside it?” Chris asks, incredulous. “You can’t exactly wear me like a glove puppet.”
“I’ll have to learn ventriloquism, I suppose,” Robert says. “You will have to follow my performance instructions to the letter. To the letter, Chris.”
“This is not our first priority.”
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris/Robert, 70 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'I loved you first'.
"I'm not happy about this, Robert," Chris says, "but I think I need to explain my behaviour: I've developed certain... feelings for you, which I'm sure will pass sooner or—"
"Well, I fell in love with you ages ago," Robert says, promptly, "so I win."
Chris stares at him for a good thirty seconds before Robert adds, "Oh, right, should we kiss or something?"
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 90 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'the most outrageous "silent communication" you can think of'.
“We were on stage, Chris; I couldn’t exactly go up and start talking about issues with the production, or it would have distracted the audience, so I was forced to find nonverbal methods to communicate.”
“Distracted the—” Chris chokes for a moment on his own incredulity, has to draw in a breath – “Robert, you stripped off and pointed at your penis; what could that possibly be intended to convey?”
“My scrotum, Chris, my scrotum,” Robert says, impatiently; “the issue is that we don’t have any choreography for the ballroom scene.”
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 270 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'allow me to watch you touch yourself'.
“I’ve been seeking out various new experiences to inform my acting lately,” Robert says. “Horse riding and topiary and so on.”
“Are there many plays about topiarists?” Chris asks.
“I thought you might be able to assist. If you’ll allow me to watch you touch yourself—”
Chris drops his script. “What?”
“I already have experience at first hand, so to speak,” Robert says. “But I’ve never seen it from the outside. I thought it would be informative.”
“This is—” Is this conversation really happening? “This is completely inappropriate, Robert! And unnecessary! I’m certainly not planning to include that sort of filth in any of the drama society’s plays.”
“Give it some thought, if you’re unsure.”
“I am perfectly sure that this isn’t going to happen, Robert.”
“Whenever you next happen to feel like touching yourself, consider calling me in as a witness. That’s all I’m asking.”
“I don’t,” Chris says.
“You don’t what?”
“Touch myself,” Chris says. “I never have. So I can promise you’re asking entirely the wrong person.”
“Never?” Robert echoes, incredulous. “What, do you not know how?”
“I – I mean, I have some idea of the theory, but – look, it doesn’t matter; I just think it’s a distasteful way to spend one’s time.”
“Do you want to watch me?” Robert asks. “I could teach you.”
Chris stares at him.
“Actually,” Robert adds, “if you could describe the experience from your perspective, I’d appreciate it. Not the same as witnessing it myself, of course, but I’m sure it would still be of use.”
“Robert,” Chris says, “I absolutely beg you to stop talking about this.”
The Goes Wrong Show, Chris and Robert, 60 words. First posted here, in response to the prompt 'everyone has off days'.
"Everyone has off days, you know," Robert says, "but the important thing is never to abandon the pursuit of artistic perfection."
"Robert," Chris says, reluctantly raising his head from his hands, "that is the fifth time in a row that one of our plays has maimed a member of the audience."
Robert shrugs; "I didn't say how many off days."
I've apparently written... fifty fills for this year's ficathon? Fifty? Is that right? That doesn't feel like it can be right. I hadn't realised it was so dangerous to go into Three-Sentence Ficathon season with a specific fandom firmly occupying my mind.
no subject
I love the meta!
I love the setup for this!
Of course he makes it a competition!
I think Chris may have out-weirded Robert here!
no subject
I think Chris may have out-weirded Robert here!
I really enjoy how, although Chris seems like the straight man to Robert at a glance, it swiftly becomes clear that he's just as weird in his own way. There is something very wrong with both of these people.
no subject
I'm SCREAMING
the way I wondered what topiary had to do with touching yourself for a moment... actually there's probably a joke about trimming bushes in here somewhere
Congrats on 50 fills! I'm up to 16 now for the No Longer Human musical but a few of those were just me rewriting my favorite scenes from it really. Gonna try to get up to 20 before the ficathon ends!
no subject
I'm cracking up at this. If Robert had been allowed to finish his sentence, it would have been, 'If you'll allow me to watch you touch yourself, I'm sure I'll have your pubic hair magnificently shaped by the time you're done.'
I'm up to 16 now for the No Longer Human musical but a few of those were just me rewriting my favorite scenes from it really. Gonna try to get up to 20 before the ficathon ends!
Nice! Congratulations on your fills so far, and good luck getting to twenty. I love how the abundance of 'any fandom' prompts makes the ficathon the perfect excuse to write for tiny fandoms.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Hahaha!
“I’ll have to learn ventriloquism, I suppose,” Robert says.
Of course XD the perfect solution XD
"Well, I fell in love with you ages ago," Robert says, promptly, "so I win."
This is so wonderfully Robert!
“Robert,” Chris says, “I absolutely beg you to stop talking about this.”
I, on the other hand, hope this turns into one of those expanded ficlets, because that sounds absolutely hilarious :D
I can totally see how this show, between basically any choice of topic and setting being accessible via different plays, and the general insanity of the cast and proceedings, would be an absolute godsend for
no subject
Ha! It could be fun, but unfortunately I think my complete inability to write sex scenes (or masturbation scenes, I suppose) would make it tricky to expand this one.
I can totally see how this show, between basically any choice of topic and setting being accessible via different plays, and the general insanity of the cast and proceedings, would be an absolute godsend for threesentenceficathon prolificness :D
To be honest, I thought at first that the show would be too restrictive to write much about, given that we so rarely see the characters doing anything but putting on plays, but apparently that can't keep me from writing a ludicrous amount about it!
Thank you so much!
no subject
no subject
no subject
“Where did you find the blood?” he asks, after the play; Robert and Sandra exchange shifty, smiling glances, and Chris abruptly decides he doesn’t need to know, actually.
Shriek
“While I’m inside it?” Chris asks, incredulous. “You can’t exactly wear me like a glove puppet.”
Ohohohohohoh I dunno.
"Well, I fell in love with you ages ago," Robert says, promptly, "so I win."
Of COURSE he'd say that
“My scrotum, Chris, my scrotum,” Robert says, impatiently; “the issue is that we don’t have any choreography for the ballroom scene.”
Oh of course.
“I – I mean, I have some idea of the theory, but – look, it doesn’t matter; I just think it’s a distasteful way to spend one’s time.”
Good grief, Chris.
“Robert,” Chris says, “I absolutely beg you to stop talking about this.”
No no go on Robert, I want to see what other psychological problems you can make Chris confess to.
no subject
I did pause and think '...unless...' after writing that line, I'll admit.
No no go on Robert, I want to see what other psychological problems you can make Chris confess to.
Chris would be outraged by this suggestion that he is anything other than The Normal One.
Thank you so much!
no subject
Chris you are the yin to his yang. You're both different ends of the Freak Spectrum.