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gotham-daydreams · 7 months

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Not Tonight

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]

(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))

2nd part here.

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.

"Not tonight."

Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?

"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"

Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.

You'd take anything at all.

"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."

"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."

All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.

Someone had to agree eventually, right?

You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.

"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"

"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.

"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."

Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.

"Not now."

Simple, to the point, and sharp.

Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.

The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.

You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?

A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.

Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.

You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.

You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.

You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!

Yet it never seems like enough.

Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.

You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.

Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?

You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.

Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.

Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?

... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.

You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.

Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.

Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...

Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.

The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.

You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.

Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.

Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.

It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.

You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.

Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?

You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.

It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.

Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.

You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.

Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.

Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?

It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.

This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.

Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.

The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.

As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.

Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.

Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.

You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.

You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.

They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.

Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?

Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.

Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.

You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.

And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.

'They don't deserve to hear my music.'

Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.

So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.

You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.

You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.

Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.

You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.

...

You settled for second best.

Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.

You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.

Never once did you look back.

Nor did you ever feel inclined to.

------

Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:

I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n

Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.

Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...

Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.

--------

Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.

#this was all written in one go #so that's fun #more angst than anything honestly #not really any yan but it is supposed to be for yan stuff #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere x gn reader #gn reader #platonic yandere #neglected reader #sibling reader #reader tries too hard and does their best but finds out it isn't enough #some things just aren't meant to be #but that doesn't mean they get to run around scott free either

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devilat-thedoor · 1 month

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realizing that “the louder it is” is not just the screaming and crying out. it’s the skin on skin, echoing off the walls. the heavy, panting breaths. the frantic grabbing and clawing. it’s animalistic. it’s all a fucking symphony.

anyways. Flaunt what you’ve got.

#thinking about josh again thanks to li #so that's fun #josh kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf

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mossiistars · 3 months

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when ur familiar kisses you and you know you shouldn't be doing this but

#nandermo #nandermo fanart #this is actually the first time I've drawn them kissing #so that's fun #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #wwdits #wwdits fanart

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trashie-nerd · 1 year

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etho just explained, in the most recent cleo's video, that he started to be afraid of cleo because of third life, when she stole pizza, and etho asked myself, and that is a quote, "in that situation, would i have had the balls do to that. and the answer was no." then added, "and ever since then i've been terrified of you"

#third life #ethoslab #zombiecleo #hermitcraft s9 #ig #etho #so that's fun #3rd life

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notsogoodangel · 3 months

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Then he gets kidnapped by the Federation

Obligatory ramble about Watchers/Federation underneath.

So, in the Life Series Martyn can hear the Watchers constantly, which could be because of the Watchers' influence or maybe the Listeners (if CC Martyn has answered this, I am not aware, you are welcome to correct me). In the end, it doesn't matter because he still can listen to them and The Purgatory Watcher as well. I imagine he can listen to anything or anyone under his influence even if they are not Watchers themselves.

But that train of thought led me somewhere interesting: The Watcher is just a (theorized) corrupted overseer of Egg Island, just like Cucurucho is on Quesadilla, and the workers are the same. So that means Martyn could listen to the Federation and the workers and be a good spy.

Like, he probably already would have done that because his favorite pastime is to sneak around and listen to private conversations, but now he could do it, without even entering the Federation building, he could do it passively in a relatively safe place.

So his ass is 100% getting kidnapped because this man wasn't grown or raised in the Federation's grasp, they just took him to Quesadilla to fight the Watcher since he has experience with it BUT they don't really know what Martyn can do.

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jeffreyfrancoeur · 1 month

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do you want your heart broken while colin breaks penelope's by telling her about his literal and figurative scars? i wrote the fic for you!

Summary:

One night before bed, Penelope asks Colin how he got the scars on his back. A discussion of his physical and emotional scars follows. or: Colin Bridgerton telling his wife how he's felt disposable for his entire life.

Notes: This fic discusses in detail how Colin's father whipped him when he was a child, and briefly mentions physical abuse he experienced while at Eton. Please be aware before you go into this fic, as it may be a trigger!

Tags: POV Colin Bridgerton, Character Study, Colin "My Wife" Bridgerton, Penelope "My Husband" Featherington, Married Polin, Pillow Talk, but....emotional pillow talk, Canon Compliant, mention of other Bridgertons, Colin Bridgerton Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Discussion of physical abuse, Colin Bridgerton: How have I felt disposable from the beginning? Let me detail the ways

#polin #bridgerton #polin fic #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #listen...this is sad af #but writing it was a treat #me: there are almost no colin backstory fics in the archive i guess i gotta write one myself #also me: how sad can i make this be?#the answer: very sad #but there's a lot of comfort too so it's a nice mix of h/c imo #also penelope wants to fight all the bridgerton men except her husband and gregory at one point #so that's fun #my fic

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secondbeatsongs · 11 months

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ok ok help me to find a movie pls? they both chef working in the kitchen and finally fall in love. idk abt the details but seems like enemy to lover kinda thing. i remember seeing them a bit in YouTube and been wanting to watch them but i forgot abt the title. thank you 🙏

I'm gonna need like, a decade or an actor description or something, because there are truly so many hallmark-type movies about chefs that it's impossible to even know where to begin

#asks #coldwateristasty #but duckduckgo says that zoe saldana was in a chef romance mini-series last year #so that's fun

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totheidiot · 1 month

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why i would be the avatar of the following entities

post heavily inspired by the wonderful mutual who is @cult-of-the-eye ❤️ i missed the entities who i couldn't figure out what my connection to would be. the list is in alphabetical order for organisation. a few heavy topics ahead? but i try not to get too detailed with it. post is basically my connection to the fear entities and correlating my life experiences with them.

one. the corruption : i kid you not, if i was actually an avatar, this is who i would be. without a single doubt. let's see, not to going to get too in depth, but my best friend died of dengue a while back ya da ya da ya da after she died, i fell in love with her. disease. love. fucked up stuff. you get it.

two. the desolation : there was a fire they would burn outside my old school, to burn garbage and all of that. after a particularly difficult day at school, i would always walk over there and sit myself near the fire, just stare at it. sometimes i would burn little things like paper when i was feeling very angry. that pit of fire was a friend and i had liked to watch it burn. also self-destructive behaviour.

three. the end : refer to the corruption bits. my best friend's fate would tie into the end for me. also, my most major fear, ever since i knew about the concept of having a fear, was the fear of losing loved ones. so.

four. the extinction : okay, so last year, i believe, a thing happened in my city in bangladesh. for a night, the power of the entire city shut down. no electricity in any household, the generator was shut off, not even cellular data was working. so i am talking, no lights, no internet, not even a way to call by phone. load shedding, we had to use candles. it was a weekday night too, streetlights weren't working properly and there was no way for my father to contact us to tell us that he was safe. my mother thought that the prime minister had left the country for us to suffer. pure chaos. basic technology would not work, ovens and refrigerators needed an electrical connection obv and phones were useless. i was talking about this event and the post with my sister the other day and she suggested to add this to the dark, because no light but i feel like it fits the extinction way better for reasons i cannot formulate.

five. the eye : quiet, perceptive friend who just looks odd. you know the type, that was me. i was obsessed with gathering knowledge, i had a random fun fact for every subject. i prided myself with knowing a little about everything. furthermore, i have got this uncanny ability to just Know people's secrets?? okay suppose, my friend has a secret and she's hiding something from everyone. like it's a totally small thing, she likes someone but she doesn't want anyone to know. chances are, i will know. whether it's by observing their body language or thinking it over or just lucky guess, i will know. and the thing is, i will pretend not to know too. girl decided to tell us about that crush i will act shocked like everyone else, for no reason and then i'll go up to them in private and be like, "hey, i knew it. i guessed it last week."

i don't have anything for the meat related fears (fortunately?)

six. the lonely : *puts on a presentation on why i should be a lonely avatar and goes to the first slide* your boy has Social Anxiety. but in all seriousness, isolation, loneliness, it's all second nature to me. i get bothered when people are with me and even then, it feels like they are not? like people will be talking near me and it would feel like i am not even part of their world like. it's like watching a video of people talking like i am not involved in that, even though they are right next to me. they will try to include me in their conversation maybe, but that's not where i am? how can we exist in the same plane?

seven. the spiral : this is a fun one ! most mutuals probably already know this because i talk about it so so darn often but irl, most people actually call me the idiot ! all of my friends from bangladesh, almost every classmate calls me the idiot, to the point where i actually rarely used to hear me real (albeit dead) name spoken out loud. this kind of ties into the "there is no such thing as a real name" thing. also sometimes, late in the night, i will see and remember things and wake up the next day to find that it never happened ever. once, i was talking to my mother and i mentioned her like going to a hostel because she told me stories of how she attended a hostel in eighth grade and she starred at me. she told me that she had never attended a hostel and i was like, yes?? you did?? you always told me about jt?? and she was genuinely scared.

eight. the vast: talked about this once before but once, i was listening to the magnus archives three in the morning, it was one of the space episodes. got scared and suddenly, i had that urge to look out the window and i saw stars. in a light pollution world, where seeing the moon is uncommon, i see five or six stars. still to this day, do not know if i was imagining things.

that is it for all the spooky happenings that are happening.

#🍂 arian's shit #the magnus archives #rusty quill presents: this man has too many eyes.#the fear entities #tma podcast #tma spoilers #tw death #tw disease #tw self destructive behavior #also as i was making this post my lights started flickering #so that's fun

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mossiistars · 10 months

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the distortion giving jarchivist this pen ^

(for reference, it’s a normal black ballpoint pen, like the cheap kind that are good for sketching, with a fake flower duct taped to it with pink duct tape.)

Helen is the better distortion <- (is correct)

#here ya go #this is my first multi-page comic on csp #so that's fun #still getting used to it but I'm making progress #n e ways #ty for the ask!#asks #mossiistars #the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #helen distortion #tma fanart #tma comic

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getvalentined · 1 month

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So, when I'm finished with Smoke and Mirrors, I'm thinking about finally sitting down and writing out Little Lion Man, aka the alternate universe in which Late is placed. It features Vincent/Veld, Sephiroth Valentine, a non-hateful deconstruction of Vincrecia, a coup d'etat, body horror, slice of life—the whole shebang, basically. It's more involved, and the whole concept is over a decade old, but I think I've got it outlined to a point that it's feasible. It'll take longer than Smoke and Mirrors (which was meant to be a long oneshot and just spiraled out of control) and my biggest concern is that it's very...niche, I guess?

There really aren't a lot of VinVeld shippers out there—I'm one of the first English speakers to have shipped it, one part of a group of three that fell into it at the same time, and the only part of that group that is still active in the fandom. I know for a fact that I posted deviantART's first VinVeld fanart ever, way back in 2005. I gave the ship it's current name, forcibly dragging my friends away from calling it Vineld because why. They're my actual One True Pairing, above all the others. If I had to pick one ship to see really and solidly and undeniably canonized, it wouldn't be Sephesis or Strifentine or Valenstrifesodos—it would be VinVeld.

I'm less active in portraying them in recent years because the people I used to RP and draw and write with are either no longer active in the fandom, no longer in my life, or both. And that's the biggest issue: I don't do exceptionally well without feedback because have The Ancestral Curse, and this whole concept is so niche that I worry I'd just leave it unfinished forever, like every other FF7 longfic I've ever started.

It's...probably my favorite canon divergent AU that I've ever played in. I'd really like to share it with the world rather than keeping it relegated to snippets and random doodles, but I don't know. Would anyone actually read it?

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standupcomedyhistorian · 6 months

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Um…so this happened 👀

Still can’t believe it tbh…

Daniel Sloss was an absolute GEM and took photos with everyone who stayed after his amazing performance of Can't at Town Hall that opened the New York Comedy Festival this year. SO much fun, and he signed my copy of his book! 🥰

My trip was incredible, the Inside cabaret show at 54 Below was a BLAST (I had on disco ball jewelry courtesy of @ilickedthegardenwall), and @nicoleanell couldn't have been a more gracious host.