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seven-cents · 7 months

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dont like how the matryoshka logs were taking up so much space so I'm gonna copy and paste them here so can get rid of them

Day 1

Dear Devlog,

Today is day one of my long and mentally torturous journey. I am writing to you at the hour of 11am.

I have made minimal progress today. But important progress. Starting with setting up my normal preferences, running tests to get the ratio. Lame stuff, yknow.

I went on to outline many of the scenes and character sprites, there are quite a bit of them so it was arduous but thankfully my best friend, quentin, was here to help me out with a hip new video. His help will be invaluable throughout this timeframe. I love you quentinreviews.

I feel pretty good about how its going, and I'm sure as long as I don't sleep or do anything else for even a moment I'll be done in time. Easy peasy for me, the laziest most adhd person on the planet.

Word count: 0

I can only hope I can make it at least playable before the madness sets in.

Day 2

The madness has set in.

Dear devlog, I feel like a clown and not in the hot way. I got minimal sleep due to me being woken up at an unreasonable hour.

This morning I heard a crackling in my walls, like electricity behind my outlet. This was super concerning since I had a bunch of flammable shit near it. I immediately hopped up and started rearranging my entire room, moving all my canvasses and paint in boxes and whatnot, and in my cleaning I found what looked to be several tiny beads. The crackling had been a necklace I had on a shelf snapping and all the beads falling on the ground. Now I have to unpack everything.

I did however did get quite a bit done, though, 3000 words worth. Most of it is garbage that I'm going to rewrite like ten times but it's something.

Word count: 3,295

Day 3

Dear devlog,

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

everything is a sick cesspit of misery

I got some sprites done tho. By done I mean they're NOTHIGN, but I will fix them later.

demon

Day 4

Didn't get any sleep last night! Had to do stuff today!

Yet, I'm still keeping up pace. With the power of a gallon of chocolate milk a day. HAHAHA.

now get in the hole cunt

Day 5

Dear Devlog,

I've grown to dislike these horrible paints. I have to use craft paints because they're not shiny. They're fifty cents each so I've bought maybe fifty of them. They're all brown and green. All I dream of is brown and green. I hate brown and green.

Who knows what I'll do with them when I finish.

Day 6

Gonna be hard times for the next few days. Won't be able to paint as much but hopefully I can make up for that in writing. Which is terrible because I only have a million paintings to do. Regardless, I can program and write at the same time. nbd.

Words: 4851

Day 7

I didn't update last night because I was so tired! and I had to take time out of my schedule for my weeping break.

The thing about this painting is, I hate it. Like it's way too late to change the colors or pretty much anything without losing a day. That's the problem with doing traditional art, I can't make tweaks without losing so much time. I'm on day 8, that's a little over a fourth way through and I'm looking at my checklist and I'm gonna throw up. But also it's okay. I'm moving things around to keep the important stuff first so some things may be cut.

Day 8

The name is starting to piss me off. I keep having to look it up to remember how to spell it.

I painted rats today.

Day 9

Wahoo! i finshed some painting. Some of the easiest but good enough. I want to get all of them through with by the twentieth so I can make alternates and then digitally edit them in the next ten days. I think I can have a scene and the menu done by today but who knows.

Day 10

couldnt do anything got too sick from pizza cookie

Day 11

look at this fucking bitch what the fuck is his problem

Day 12

I dont think i wanna paint ever again.

its like on every surface of my room. why am i like this why did i wanna do this. oh yeah, its my drive to be the best in the universe.

Day 13

People are gonna make fun of me for making a character look like a vagina. I KNOW I KNOW ITS SUPPOSED TO BE A VAGINA. you dont understand yuri.

Day 14

I've gotten most of the backgrounds almost done. I've got the sprites almost done. Well I don't have the hallway even remotely done because I just sort of forgot it was there. CGs need to be done. I've only got the sketches.

Day 15

ive watched all of adventure time painting these. now i need a new show.

Day 16

Yeah baby parts of the gui are done. Rats are done. That's all I really need right?

Day 17

behold. all my goddam sprites. there's at least fifteen. almost complete bitches.

Day 18

Have you ever seen a prettier textbox? No you haven't.

Day 19

I don't waaaaaaanna paint. I don't wanna do it. I don't wanna have to be like okay what colors should I use here if I fuck up I have to do everything over again. How many times do I have to paint the same thing. I hate painting AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Day 20

My goal was around 10000 words I'm like 9379 so like I'm almost there baby but it will probably be shorter. I might cut some things.

Day 21

8 days left. I have so much to do in eight days.

Day 22

ITS DAY 22

I stopped updating after this because i lost my cunting mind.

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brawltogethernow · 3 years

Note

There's an important question I need to ask and you're the only person I can think of to ask it. Should Norman Osborn be a DILF, yes or no?

Took me a second to psychically recover from this, but yeah, okay.

If Harry Osborn is a horrible little rat crossed with a sickly Victorian orphan who has had bad experiences with LSD, Norman is the same rat with no orphan and instead uncommonly thick neck muscles. This is a middle-aged man you cannot speak to for any length of time without becoming acquainted with the veins in his forehead. This is a middle aged man who created a supervillain persona that mandates hopping around like a jolly little gnome and performing a wicked witch voice and brought to this lifestyle absolutely no inclination to not take himself completely seriously at all times and no ability to take it in stride when other people don't. If you make a lighthearted jab at him he will grip whatever he's holding until it cracks, not in a sexy super strength way but in a "man with a story about the time he punched a hole in a wall he will tell you at a party" way, where his hand shakes and all his tendons bulge. All of the ways he emotes seem to start with baring his teeth like he's trying to show you his gums. Breathes loudly while invading people's personal space. Barks like a medium-sized dog when he's mad. Widower and doesn't even have the gonads to be tragic about it, opting instead to be insufferably condescending at his dead wife. Variously successful black widower and also condescending about that to a degree that really throttles any spice innate to this scenario. Possible reads of homoerotic tension with his enemies ditto. I know that some people are into being condescended to, but you would need to specifically have a toxic masculinity fetish. There are so many ways to be hot and he misses the mark on every one he's adjacent to, all in ways that are choices. He is God's own clown.

Now, listen. There are two different instances of him sleeping with a blonde woman his son's age, and one of them is still in continuity. Let me pull an "I read most of this drek so you don't have to" here and reassure you that neither of these stories rehabilitates Norman as a thirst trap. Man, his dead wife was also blonde.... How am I feeling about this... ...Grossed out.

Also if you're having trouble visualizing how experiencing the hair would go in real life here's a photo of American politician John Oxendine, with apologies to him for this citation.

Conclusion: Not a DILF.

#spiderman #spidey #marvel #asks answered #anonymous #ID in metadata #like...i did my best

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reallyhardy · 3 years

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regent’s open air theatre LSOH (2018) breakdown

act two. continuing on from [this post about act one!]

after the intermission they went back into mushnik’s for ‘call back in the morning’ which featured the ensemble in the number with a bunch of telephones kind of tangling/tying up audrey and seymour with them, but by the end they’d all been disentangled - it looked so chaotic i was so impressed with how well organised it was to free them by the end of the song :’) found a backstage clip showing some ensemble members from this scene:

then it was time for more heartbreak!!! the scene where seymour shows audrey his leather jacket. i kinda loved the jacket itself tbh, it had all this fringe on the back and sleeves (which was another visual call to audrey ii in drag queen form, who wears a jacket with chain “fringe” on the sleeves) and there was a rhinestone plant and ‘seymour’ written in rhinestones. but of course audrey is horrified and backed herself up against the wall and started crying and after seymour threw the jacket away they go into suddenly seymour which was done quite sweetly - seymour handed her his ‘kleenex’ (but it was a wet wipe because she actually did take off her lipstick with it)

ALSO notably there to cast a sinister light on the emotional moment - the mushnik’s shop rotates to reveal the audrey ii plant, which was grinning behind audrey and seymour as they hug at the end of the song. LOVED THIS extremely ominous the fact that the plant was smiling evilly behind them was just chef’s kiss things are about to go horribly wrong.

but anyway. now that seymour and audrey are ‘official’ they kiss!!! kind of. it was more like… seymour leaned in and kissed her nose and then sort of…slid his face down kind of towards her mouth??? it was so awkward but...v cute :’)

and of course now that we’re in act ii things are going a little worse and it’s definitely showing on seymour, who has not been beaming nearly so much and looks pretty stressed out and upset a lot of the time. by suppertime he’s freaking out and looks genuinely so mad and angry with himself when mushnik gets eaten by the plant: which was done by having the plant mouth open, mushnik step inside, and then drag queen audrey ii step up behind and attack while vines close in, and then the mouth closes up:

i think... there was more of audrey ii trying to be flirtatious with seymour either before or after this, but he is much more disgusted by it and doesn’t have to try to snap himself out of it:

(note by this point audrey ii’s wig no longer resembles OG audrey’s, and by now seymour hates her guts.) this continues into ‘the meek shall inherit’ and i loved the staging of this one because the ensemble are still in black-and-white but now wearing these pink-green gloves with pointy ends (so they look like audrey ii’s vines) and they had vines extending out from the scenery/props too, all closing in on seymour who’s freaking out even more.

in this one matt willis made multiple quick changes to play all the different characters trying to buy seymour/the plant, and he was brill each time (this wasn’t all of the looks but it was all i could find from the show trailer:)

oh, and when it came to the “then there’s audrey” part of the song, seymour takes the kleenex from suddenly seymour out of his pocket.

so seymour plots to try and kill audrey ii by grabbing a bunch of weapons (and tying a green rambo-style headband around his head) but before he can get to it audrey comes in with her seymour-costume!!! (she was even shorter next to seymour then because she was wearing converse instead of heels) and argghhh it was just so cute!!! and the sweater she put on was the one she had to come back for during ‘feed me’ which was a cute touch.

(i could only find a design sketch for the main actress in that costume, but did also find her understudy rosalind james in the same outfit.) then... sadness again though because then they go into the ‘would you still like me/i’d still love you’ scene. ‘somewhere that’s green’ plays instrumental while seymour promises he’ll find them a better life. they do their adorable little awkward kiss again and then audrey leaves.

heading toward the end then into suppertime reprise/sominex, and then the confrontation… the whole time me knowing what’s coming i was just like audrey don’t but then of course…audrey does. (also she had another costume change, this time into a half-blue-half-pink nightdress with a transparent pink raincoat on top.)

she steps into the plant ‘mouth’ and audrey ii bites her neck vampire style (so there’s no doubt that she has been wounded, no “she just fell asleep because of the sominex” theory here,) before seymour can get her out.

somewhere that’s green reprise of course i was crying again – the actress kind of played the ‘when i die, which should be very shortly’ line for funnies rather than sincerely BUT. then she went into the reprise and ohhh my god i was so sad watching seymour hold her. i noticed they never really properly kissed on the mouth (because seymour’s bad at kissing) but he was really desperately hugging her and shaking and kissing her all over on her shoulders and her hands and it was DEVASTATING.

after audrey dies seymour kept crying her name which was…i thought a bit much but sure, why not. he was sad. then he carried her to the plant and she stood up and walked backwards so they were looking at each other as she went into the plant’s “mouth” and he held onto her hands as long as he could. (this time there were no vines and the drag queen version of audrey ii wasn’t there either so it was more of an emotional parting than watching a violent/comical death.)

after that seymour tries to kill the plant (drag queen audrey ii was standing above, on top of the mushnik store prop) so he shot at her first with his halloween prop gun and then tossed the boxes of rat poison into the plant mouth, and then of course charged into the mouth and the vines are back and grab and crush him and then he’s dead. RIP that silly fool who i loved.

then it’s don’t feed the plants! the urchins come out and are wearing new outfits and open the number…

then there was the ‘characters come back onstage as plant buds’ version of the ending, but oh my god. this was so much fun i loved it so much. mushnik, orin, audrey and seymour dash out of the plant opening wearing audrey ii-ified costumes and!!! it was amazing. mushnik was in a sparkly green sequin jacket and kilt, orin was wearing his black combat boots and a sequin minidress, audrey was wearing a big poofy 1950s-ish (you know, because of her somewhere thats green dreams) pink-and-blue dress with flowers and little white gloves (and still her glasses) (and i remember as she ran out on stage she mouthed WHAT THE FUCK lmao) and seymour’s was this big puffy clown suit (probably because…he’s kind of a fool) over his blue shirt (now with sparkly red blood on it, implying that his arms/legs have been eaten) and all the ensemble also had similar crazy plant looks, very flytrap with a lot of teeth and big floppy tongues.

seymour and audrey had the little ‘we’ll have tomorrow’ line too which made my LSOH-obsessed ass get tearful again too - they grabbed each others hands for it and !!! my emotions.

there were a few bows after that but then audrey ii interrupted and was like wait we ain’t finished!!! and they did mean green mother from outer space as this huge dance number which was extremely fun. this finale was very similar to how the spongebob musical ends - after the song they tossed huge green beach balls into the audience and had a huge confetti cannon explosion. of course i went nuts for it lmao. and the best part is that THERE IS A VIDEO ON YOUTUBE:

youtube

and then it was over. iirc it took a total 10 hours for my sister travelling there and back in on day, but it was 1000% worth it!!! next post: gonna look at costumes in detail!!!

#little shop of horrors #LSOH #regent's park open air theatre #long post #flashing gif cw

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gwynplaine89 · 5 years

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Smile and put on your best face

Multi-chapter fanfic. Arthur X Sophie.

I own NOTHING. Todd (aka God) does.

Will be updating regularly.

Chapter 1: A chronic underachiever

The bus is full. Seems like I will have to stand this time. No, wait. There's a free spot in the back. I drop myself on the last seat. I'm still in pain due to the beating I took this morning. Some kids assaulted me outside the music shop. They stole the sign from my hands and ran away. I followed them but they ambushed me in an alley, beat me down and hit me. There were five of them. I know the broken sign will be deducted from my paycheck. And there's not much one can deduct from that salary anyway...

The way home is long. All days resemble each other. Always the same route, the same streets, the same lights, the same people. But sometimes, and only sometimes, there's something different, something that catches my attention. A little boy. In the front seat. He turns around and watches me with curiosity. He seems to be very interested in me. He's the only one in this bus for whom I'm not invisible.

I had washed my face earlier and removed all the clown make up, but it doesn't matter. Kids, unlike adults, posess fantasy. Just by making some funny faces the boy is already laughing. Suddenly, his mother turns around and looks at me in anger.

- Stop bothering my child!!

- I wasn't bothering him...I'm sorry...

I was just trying to make him laugh. People always seem to be upset...

And suddenly I feel laughter crawling up my throat. Oh no...please no, not now.

- HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA

The woman turns around again.

- WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT??!!!

- HAHHAHHAHAH no....no HAHAHHAH. I'm not...I'm not laughing. HAHAHAHHA. I'm s-sorry. HAHAHAHHA.

I need air. My throat hurts. I can't speak. My hand reaches to my pocket, I grab one of my "presentation cards" and hand it to her. Normal people always carry those with them. They say things like "LAWYER", "DOCTOR" or "CEO". Mine is a bit different.

"Excuse me if I laugh. I'm sick. My laughter is involuntary.

Please kindly return this card"

The woman reads it, looks at me with mistrust and hands me back the card. My laughter slowly calms down, but I've already made her uncomfortable. Her and everyone else here. I feel all those eyes on me. There's still two stops before home but as soon as the bus halts, I get off. I sit down on a bench at the stop and wait for the next bus.

A man approaches and sits down beside me. He carries a newspaper and begins to read. Thomas Wayne, who is running for mayor of Gotham, is on the cover. I laugh a bit upon seeing him because I remember that my mom has a weird obsession with mailing him letters. And then my laughter gets out of control.

- HAHAHHAHAHHAAAA

I cover my mouth with one hand to smother the laughter. But I can't.

- What's wrong with you?- he says, visibly annoyed.

I just shake my head no. I try to say something but again I fail. My laughter only gets worse and louder by the minute.

- HAHHAHAHAHAHA

- WHAT'S SO FUNNY, ASSHOLE??- the man yells, throwing aside the paper.

Again I reach for my card and hand it to him.

The man reads it. Now he is the one who laughs.

- You're sick?? Hahhahaha.

- Yes, Sir...

- Really?? You poor thing...HAHAHHAHA YOU THINK I'M STUPID OR WHAT??- he yells.

- N-no!! I...

The man tears the card into pieces.

- No!! Please...I need it!!

It was the last one I had left over.

- Fucking freak!!- he says and throws the pieces of paper in my face.

Great, in just one day I managed to get myself beaten up, have some deducted from my paycheck, and my last card torn. My life is such a success.

People are not only impatient...sometimes they are cruel just for the sake of it.

I let the next bus pass me by. Despite the fact that it's gotten dark and it's winter, I think I prefer to walk today. The cold of men is worse than the cold of the night. It's a voluntary cold.

Chapter 2: Penny and Murray

To get home it's necessary to climb a set of never ending stairs. It's something I'm used to, but every step hurts due to the punches and it takes me twice as long to get to the top. From here, I continue to the right for two more blocks. The wind blows intensely and I fold my arms over my chest to protect myself from the cold because my yellow sweater doesn't keep me warm enough.

It's hard to make way through the garbage that threatens to bury all of Gotham. The rats, on the other hand, are something one gets used to after a while. Personally, I don't mind them. I think they suffer the same luck we do. They just wander around desperately in search of a bit of food and shelter.

The building where I live is a damn horrible shack. It's old, collapsed and it sucks. Inside are at least two hundred appartments where people live cramped together like sardines. Mine is number 8A. There's barely enough space to fit in my mom and me. But, in spite of it all, it's the only good moment of my day when I get here, home.

- Happy, you're late! What happened?

Happy...that's what my mom calls me. It's ironic...Mom never leaves the house, her health is very fragile and she needs my help for almost everything. She can no longer work. Her name is Penny. I always prepare dinner and take it to bed for her. There's only one bed. Sometimes we share it and sometimes I sleep on the couch in the living room.

- I missed the last bus...- I explain while I take off my shoes and warm her a bowl of soup.

- Come quickly! The show is about to begin!

Every night before going to bed, we watch Murray's show. It's the best part of my day.

Murray is not just a comedian, he's the best comedian there is. He is everything I dream to be one day. When I watch his show, I often imagine that I'm there, that Murray invites me, that I tell hilarious jokes, that people applaud me and I make them laugh. Mom says that my purpose in life is to spread joy and laughter. It's something I take very serious. Mom and Murray are all I have, they are my company every night when I get home.

- Will you not eat, son?

- I'm not hungry.

- But look how skinny you are...eat a little, yes?

- Don't worry, mom...I'm fine.

After the show mom goes to sleep. I stay up for a little longer. I light a cigarette and take off my shirt. In days like these, I'm careful not to do it in front of mom, so that she doesn't see the bruises on my body or how terribly skinny I am. She doesn't need to know that people hurt me in the streets or that a clown's salary doesn't buy enough food for the two of us.

I try to write my diary, just like my therapist said. It's mostly lose thoughts, insignificant stuff that comes to my mind during the day. I don't wish to see anyone and at yet I need someone to speak with...and I solve the problem by talking to the paper. That said, it's not always easy to write down my thoughts because words have limits and thoughts don't have them.

For today I write a single line:

There is a certain amount of punishment in the mere fact of existing.

I am a clown, and to complete myself, or perhaps to complicate myself, I am also a dancer. Sometimes I start dancing in the dark, alone with the street lights peeking through the window. I don't need music, one carries music on the inside. I always picture an audience that admires me and says "Arthur, you're such a great dancer!"

-"Thanks!"- I reply and wave to my public.

How amazing it would be to be like Murray and fascinate the crowds every night. How awesome it would be to feel the sincere appreciation of the people. Their respect, their admiration, their love...How great it would be, even for just one day, to belong to the world of the happy.

#joker #fanfic #arthur fleck

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wolfgangamaderik · 5 years

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When they are all at school

A Devil’s Little Face- based short fic

All of the children were out of the house, and not even Kristina was at home. She went visiting some kind of friend, and helped her to do the shopping. Since she was aging, she became even more helpful towards the ones who could not do everything on their own, and needed help.

Erik was alone, or to be clear, only the Persian and the cat were left in the house. Monsieur LeChat did not need constant care taking, and he lazily lay in front of the fireplace on the rug, slightly purring in his sleep. The Persian retreated in the guest bedroom which served as his own room since he lived with the family, and did some nonsense he was interested in, so Erik was free to enjoy his own thoughts without being interrupted by a family member, and without having to concentrate on his ideas too hardly to shut out the constant noise the kids were making, partly by playing music, or by playing with their toys in a louder volume than they should with a father in his seventies. Well, to be honest, they weren’t making so much noise since they grew older, as they either weren’t home for too long time, or they were simply too old to play with dolls and tin soldiers in their late teens or early twenties.

Suddenly, by that thought, Erik had an idea. Maybe he should pack the unnecessary toys away so that they won’t pick up so many space in the children’s room, and they could use the space for something more useful to keep there. Belle, the youngest child did not play with “boyish” toys like small soldiers, a whole carriage and castle made of wood, toy drum or trumpet (oh those are horrible means of torture, shall the Daroga be damned for gifting these to Florian long-long years ago, God help everyone for the noise he was making marching through the house as a five-year old source of noisemaking...)

So he got up from his chair and walked to the children’s room with some boxes to pack the most useless toys away. He was whistling cheerfully, knowing he still had some use in the family contrary to his old age, while he did not have to overstrain himself with too hard work. He was packing toys into the boxes, and he was looking at the contents, smiling. Each and every piece of toy had its own origin and story behind it, and thinking how the children loved to play with one special toy, each child had his favorite. Mahtab loved the musical train they built together, Flo’s favorite other than musical instruments was a small clown figure he named Hugo, and Noel loved the carriage which had two horses attached to it. Noel often removed the horses and his favorite activity was to roll the carriage by full force across the long hallway which led from the children’s room to the drawing room. Erik learned to always except for objects or children running across that hallway anytime, so one always have to be careful, and double check if it was safe to walk along or not. He shook his head and chuckled, thinking back of these memories. No matter how he always stated he disliked young children, he had to raise so much of them, and remembering back, it was a nice time period of his life.

Looking again in the boxes, he slowly sat down on the floor next to it to be more comfortable, and pulled it closer to himself. Dreamily, still under the effect of memories, he involuntarily picked up the box of tin soldiers and a wound-up toy who marched through the room when it was working.

“What have would Erik given if he had these in his childhood... these little monsters are really spoiled, are they?”

He wound up the figure in amusement and placed it down to the floor to let it march around for one last time. He was looking at it in happiness, actually he enjoyed looking at it more than when the children were playing with it. Maybe because they were always playing with it at the worst spot of the house possible... behind his back when he was doing laundry, under the stairs, when he was descending in hurry, and had to stop suddenly not to kick it or fall through it... how he could have smashed it against the wall then! But now he had to admit it was cute. He did not really have the opportunity to play with any of these, at least, never alone. He was always just passively watched the children play, or his job was to make the toy talk by the aid of his ventriloquism. But he never played with these before... in his childhood he did not have toys, and after he grew out of them.

Did he?

What if...

***

- You have no chance of survival, as we have surrounded the castle, Ali Ben Mehmet! It is time for you to give up or we shall raze your mighty abode with my strong army. There is no way out!

The Daroga was surprise to hear Erik’s seemingly angry voice coming from the children’s room when he walked to the kitchen to drink a cup of coffee. He rose his brows in surprise and started listening.

- I shall count to three and in the end, murder thee. Come out of hiding if you wish to die as a hero, not like a hiding rat!

- What in the name of Allah is this man doing? - The Persian wondered out loud, turning to the door to leave the kitchen. He shall check Erik as soon as possible. In this age and with his past it is always better to make sure he isn’t going crazy.

Stepping into the children’s room he saw his old friend kneeling on the floor with a perfectly organized army of tin soldiers, with the wooden castle in the middle of the room. He was happily rolling and walking on his knees from side to side to organize one or two soldiers into the final battling position.

- Only by my dead body you are going to occupy my castle, you infidel dog! - Erik’s altered voice with a noticeable amount of eastern accent, slightly mocking the Daroga’s pronunciation, came from the wooden castle.

- This is what I wanted to do anyway. - Erik stated with a coldly calm intonation. - Pray to your Allah. One... two...

By the time he was counting, he used a small pencil with a rubber band attached to it, with a colorful taw used as a cannon ball. He was ready to “shoot” when he sensed someone was watching him.

Looking up he saw the nosy Persian standing in the doorway, looking at him. Erik jumped up in embarrassment, very quickly contrary to his age. He cleared his throat then kicked a tin soldier away to make the Persian believe he had nothing to do with these toys.

- I... I was just... cleaning up.. these children leave such a chaos after themselves always...

The Daroga felt sorry for Erik’s sudden reaction about being caught, finally having fun, and trying out something he should most likely have missed in his childhood. Who was him to judge?

He walked to the castle and sat down to the floor, followed by Erik’s shocked glance.

- What... are you doing Daroga?

- I think this soldier is better to be here. - The Persian put the kicked soldier in front of the castle again. - How should we defeat him if you kill your own army?

Erik sat back down with a shrug, and a chuckle, seeing that he did not have to be ashamed in front of the old great booby. He had never thought the Persian was into playing with children’s toys, but they ended up playing out three battle stories by the time Kristina arrived home.

#silly fanfic #my phanfics #Erik is a child at heart #Devil's Little Face #DLF AU #wolfgangamaderik

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bratleeta-blog · 6 years

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hey clown fuckers it’s me, this is gonna be a somewhat serious post although you guys know i love my ugly ass jokes. it’s a little messy and long and i’m shaking / crying while writing this so i’ll put it under read more. /// for a link to the callout post made about that nasty bitch, you can scroll down ! p.s this ain’t formatted so:

so most people know the events of yesterday, me along with close friends of mine learned the truth about someone who we thought we could trust / were friends with. it turned out that this person was horrible and we hadn’t known it until it was brought to light and we probably wouldn’t have ever known had it not. the reason we so quickly reblogged / talked about this and felt so utterly sick is because a lot of us have went through irl trauma regarding a lot of the topics mentioned in the post. i’m a csa survivor, and i know a lot of my friend’s are too, which is why i so actively fight against it --- why WE so actively fight against it on here. for people to be roleplaying / trivializing these things because it’s “ just the internet ” , it’s not okay and when you try to silence us by making it seem like it’s drama / vaguing / doing the stupidest shit just to look relevant in the midst of chaos, you’re a piece of shit. you’re taking away our voices, the voices of people whom were victims of thing’s they had no control over. we deserve to be heard, our opinions deserve to matter and we deserve to have a platform in which we are valid. don’t take it away from us because your precious little dash is actually moving with tea that’s perfectly brewed and ready to drink ! you can say what you want about me, go ahead, just please don’t silence others, do not take away their right to speak on matters like this. whether or not you defend this fucker / any fucker that does this shit, let us speak, let others speak. i was deeply hurt, so many of us were, this person is someone we trusted and brought into our loving group and showered with love they didn’t deserve. i want to firstly thank the victims who were brave enough to come out and speak, and secondly thank the user who brought it to our dashes so that we could see it with our own eyes. i’m not sure if what i typed made sense ? i just woke up, i saw everyone’s love and support and i started crying truly. i was in a horrible head space last night and i needed to get away from what was happening because it brought me back to a time i didn’t want to go to. thank you so much to everyone who’s messaged me, given me the best asks with their love and support and have even made posts about me to show their love and support. i love and cherish you all, i don’t want to sound like an ugly ass broken record but you’re all ??? the loves of my life ??? bless you so fucking much ?? when i woke up i didn’t want to check my phone because i was so very worried all i would be getting is more hate ( if you’re wondering why i left anon open, it was so that i could later help those who wanted to see the callout post for themselves but didn’t want their identity to be known !!! ) but instead it was so many people who don’t even know me telling me how much they hope i’m okay. so again, thank you all !!!! i’ll be posting the positive asks, messaging everyone individually to thank them / let them know i’m okay and to the brat pack who love me till hell and back : i fucking love you, you rats !!!!! smooches !!!

this is a link to the callout post !!!!!!!!!!!

#thank you all !!!!!!!!#ask to tag

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gwynplaine89 · 4 years

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Chapter 2: Penny and Murray

- Happy, you're late! What happened?

- I missed the last bus...- I explain while I take off my shoes and warm her a bowl of soup.

- Come quickly! The show is about to begin!

Every night before going to bed, we watch Murray's show. It's the best part of my day.

- Will you not eat, son?

- I'm not hungry.

- But look how skinny you are...eat a little, yes?

- Don't worry, mom...I'm fine.

For today I write a single line:

There is a certain amount of punishment in the mere fact of existing.

-"Thanks!"- I reply and wave to my public.

To find full story scroll down

#joker #fanfic #arthur fleck

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