#they're helpful to find people to follow as well to just get a constant stream of “hey we like the same kinda stuff”

[bleaksqueak]

Working on getting a patreon pack up and ready right now, but real quick: I'm a big fan of "Share it! reblog! tell the new style of algorithm internet shit to suck it!", but you might look around and be like "...But you never reblog much of anything?" I do though lol. This is largely my art blog, and while I'll reblog something here from time to time despite wanting to keep it mostly concise, I have like three other blogs on this same account. One of those blogs in particular I reblog to so much that I finally had to make myself add things to my queue instead of just reblogging on the spot. It was (a lot). It's like collecting pins, action figures, cards, (or in my case, architectural photography, landscapes and monster art)... I'm tacking them all up on display so that I can look at them, and make anyone else who visits look at them as well.

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello I was wondering if you’d be able to write a Ranboo x Gender neutral reader, and they both just got into a heated argument that left them both crying (only if you’re comfortable with writing something like this, I’d not I completely understand, also thank you for your concern, I really appreciate it) :)

honestly struggled to find smthn to make an argument out of but I think I got something! oneshots are a little difficult for me bc I get burned out and I think the actions but can't find the right words LMAOOOO ; but this is totally find to request dw!! and of course, if you ever need to talk my messages are always open 🫶🫶🫶 ; also istg I have other ranboo headers they're just in my drafts bc I've only been working on reqs lately LMFAO

RANBOO ; burnout

summary ; youre both burned out and stressed, and take it out on each other

warnings ; language, fighting, reader is described/talked about as a writer, angry mischaracterization (it makes sense in context trust me)

word count ; 1.4k

masterlist

Both you and Ranboo had been working your asses off recently.

They had themselves so tied down to content creation that it was becoming a personal prison cell. It was like everything he did was only to appease his fans, and he didn't know how to just calm down and slow things down for his well being. From the constant, long streams to the talks with merch and production teams, it never ended. Plus, the infinite cycle of scrolling online to see all the hate they received, it was becoming too much.

You, on the other hand, constantly kept working and working through the lack of motivation and burnout with no breaks. No matter how much people reassured you that you could take a break and you didn't have to stick to a schedule, it didn't do anything. You were determined to fill out each and every request even if you barely had any idea what you were doing, you'd stay up late trying to block out what to write and how to put it into words to appease your followers. Three times a day, seven days a week, every day of the month, about 2000 posts a year, if you kept that up.

You were dedicated to writing, you loved it, and you loved that you were able to turn something you loved into a job considering "real" jobs didn't work out for you. You had streaming, but you only did that if you were writing or needed ideas or help every once in a while and wanted to share any progress and whatnot. Your eyes tended to be bloodshot on the regular, being pulled down by saggy, dark eyebags.

You trudge into the kitchen, taking a cold bowl of mac and cheese and some water back to your office with you. Ranboo glares at you from the couch, holding his phone to his ear as he talks to some big guy with money, most likely. He doesn't say anything, but you notice the look on his face, his eyes glaring daggers into you as you walk away.

You sit back down at your chair, not even touching your food. You stare at the screen, your eyes slightly protected by the dark mode you'd reinforced on the website. Your mind was blank, empty, vacant, muddled. There were no thoughts behind your glazed eyes.

Your head pounded in pain, caused by all the blue light absorption you'd been taking in recently. God, Ran hated that. How you'd fucking complain of a headache and only do everything to worsen it. It pissed him off. It made him want to yell at you to just shut up about it, considering you didn't want to do anything to help yourself.

You type away at the keyboard once more, every button press causing a little click or clack to immerse from it. The keys light up a particular shade of white, a smooth wave like pattern glazing across it once more. You stop again, unable to finish the sentence once more.

You groan and lean back in your seat, feeling the utter disgust around you. You oh so desperately needed to sit in the shower and cry, considering your stress and pain, but you couldn't. You needed to make these people happy, you owed them. You owed them for giving you a stable job and a roof over your head, the least you could do was have their requests out within a few days.

You sit and ponder about your partner. You were sure there was no love left anymore. Both of you were too financially dependent on one another to up and leave, so it had to work for now.

Ranboo, now not on the phone, nearly slams the door of your office open, smelling the ice cold pasta you hadn't even touched a few feet away. He's quick to raise his voice with a stern tone, pissed off at you once again.

"Dude, I told you dinner was ready an hour ago, what the fuck? And then you just bring it in here and don't even touch it just to stare at the damn screen some more? Are you fucking kidding?"

You roll your eyes, not wanting to deal with this again. "Fuck's it matter? This is my job, Ranboo"

"Your job isn't to please everyone who acts nice to you. Your job is to write quality content and not complain about burning yourself out or headaches that you could easily solve by touching grass! Go outside, this isn't even a job. You don't do anything other than write some stupid fantasy all day and feed into people's delusions, Y/n!" He quickly rants, scoffing at the end.

"Holy shit, you're one to talk! Meh meh, meh, I'm so miserable, and I do all these long streams for my fans, and I treat my partner like shit because I never spend time with them and enable their unhealthy behaviors! I take out my anger on them because I'm a lonely asshole." You quickly spit back, standing up from your chair.

They scoff, stepping towards you a bit, "You're so pathetic, I never want to hear you come to me with your problems again. You're dependent on me. You barely get any money off of that, let alone any to pay rent or buy your own groceries. Get into the real world where talking to fancy businessmen and actually working for your money is all you do! Walk in my shoes for one day!"

You roll your eyes again and scoff, "You don't think this is an actual job? I could say the same to you! You play video games all fucking day and beg for Twitch subs! Just because you have a fancy merch line and have some stupid show you're working on doesn't make you all high and mighty and more important than anyone else!"

"It does, actually, you have no room to complain! If you need a break, you can go take it. My schedule is busy every hour of the day, I have no time to do shit! You're an overbearing, selfish asshole!"

Now that got the waterworks going, that's what got you beyond the point of just petty arguing to genuinely fighting. You have no room to complain, yet you spend all day just trying to make people happy and not hate you, to just pump content out and pretend like you're okay. You bottle up your emotions so he won't have to worry about you, yet you're overbearing and selfish.

"You are such a fucking asshole! Everything needs to be about you, doesn't it? Every single fucking thing in the world, huh? Fine, screw you" You turn to grab the bowl of food, and quickly, out of sheer anger, throw it at him, shattering the ceramic bowl. "I hope I never see you again, go fuck yourself. You don't deserve shit of what you have, your platform, your friends, your money, anything. I hope your whole online empire comes crumbling down and you're left with nothing"

You snatch up your phone, wallet, and keys, quickly stomping past him as tears drip down your cheeks. He stands there, appalled as tears well in his glassy eyes. He tries to chase you outside once he realizes you're serious, but you'd already slammed the door so hard it might as well have fallen off the hinges. He wipes his eyes, cheeks a light red due to the sheer amount of anger he felt in the moment. He was soaked in cold mac and cheese, ruining his white hoodie.

Once the adrenaline wasn't coursing through his veins anymore, he sits himself on the kitchen floor, the cold tile against his hands being used as a grounding technique. Some ceramic dust lays on his shoes, some liquid cheese being smeared against his hoodie as he tries to use a towel to wipe the access off.

Fuck, what did he just do?

He sits in silence, rethinking the situation as tears slowly stream down his face.

He could only hope that you were safe on that bus to nowhere. That bus you used to just go anywhere but home, just to escape the horrible life you lived inside that house. The house that bound you to its walls so you couldn't escape.

You couldn't escape the pain of your popular online presence or the pain of being trapped in that house any longer. Finally, it broke, the enchantment that kept you sealed inside.

Someone had to leave, and it looked like it was going to be you this time around.

[northwest-cryptid]

I recently received a question I could not answer, and as the premier Mabinogi propaganda poster on this website, I figured you might have something for me.

"where is the local hangout place nowadays? I see very very few players interacting with each other, I know things have quieted down but used to when you walked into dun you would see music being played people goof off with pets and transformation even pvp/duels now it’s all afk players"

It's been a few years since I've played, and even then, I tended to just AFK outside shadow missions for dailies since I couldn't take on the high level ones by myself.

Well there's a lot to this but I'll try to keep it short;

(hey it ended up shorter than it could have been)

The first thing is that time of day and channel matter a lot! For example when I play Mabi during normal daylight hours for EST I actually encounter most active players around 8pm onwards with the most activity being around 2am EST. This is true mostly for channel 3 from what I've seen.

Typically, people have a channel they stick to outside of world boss hunting and gathering. So you might need to find which channel tends to be most active during the day for you. For me it's channel 9, which is typically why you'll find me there.

The other part of this is that Mabinogi has shifted it's event system greatly to favor getting credit for being logged in for a set amount of time, or for clearing instanced content like dungeons, baltane missions, or shadow missions. This means that a lot of the active players don't really just hang out nearly as much. The ones who still do tend to look AFK even if they're not. If you see me standing around in Dunby there's a solid 50/50 chance I'm actively just doing something on the wiki, looking through my inventory, composing music, or even just not actively doing anything but I'm around.

I've noticed most players look AFK until I interact with them at which point it's turns out they were there the whole time.

Here's the biggest thing though, the game has a dying playerbase, it's on the decline sadly. Most active players are going to be actively doing things like the late game dungeons and raids but not just hanging out in town, and the casual players tend to just AFK to pass the time for events.

Be the change you want to see in the game.

This is primarily why I try to let people know they really can play this game however they want and don't need to follow any kind of meta. Because the most active players are going to either be doing solo or instanced content or just AFK/literally standing around.

The tldr is that Dunbarton still is the hangout place. You just need to catch it during a time when it's actually busy and you might be to be the one who starts playing music and gets everyone else involved.

Unfortunately, the constant server merges are a clear sign the games user numbers are much lower than they should be. On top of that the game is very clique-y.

Like, just to give you an idea; whenever I stream the game I'm asked if I'm a new player. People will literally leave when I tell them I'm not, if they didn't leave immediately they typically ask who my main is and then leave if they can't identify me as someone interesting to them.

If you're new to the game that might seem odd but not necessarily raise as many flags as if you've been around the Mabi scene for a while.

A lot of people are obsessed with new players because they want to recruit you into their clique since they want people for content. I have literally seen people give a new player tons of gold, good armor and weapons, even a bunch of cosmetics; only to then say the new player "owes" them for it and needs to become part of their guild and help them do raids. It's not always so extreme but that's the general mentality I've seen from a lot of the more dedicated but less social players.

Of course I don't want to scare any new players out of getting free stuff if someone is trying to be helpful. Just remember if someone says you owe them shit for something you never agreed to, the blacklist button is your best friend.

Regardless yeah, that one's hard to answer because you don't just wanna say "it's still Dunby but it's empty now" but that is more or less the case.

[peachypede]

(I feel like this is the most Rawst I have ever drawn. Big changes is that Rawst can literally see real ghosts and they're nonbinary now so pronouns have changed.)

Voice Claim: TBD

Pronouns: They/Them

Battle Theme: Battle! Ghost Type Expert by Maxo

Height: 5'4”

Weight: 130 lbs. (58 kg)

Birthday: October 13th

Current Residence: Nimbasa, Unova

Likes: Horror games and films, goth and emo fashion, ghost types, dark color palettes, painting/drawing, junk food, playing guitar

Dislikes: Overly touchy people, catching feelings/crushes,

Fears: Letting someone in only to get hurt, telling someone they can see real ghosts

General Backstory (tw: abuse and neglect in second bullet)

Rawst was born (assigned female at birth) in Nimbasa, Unova to their father, Calhoun Webb, and their mother when they were only 21 weeks in gestation. Rawst would be in the hospital for a long time after their birth, having multiple scares and times when it looked like they passed away. Calhoun would be at his baby's side and would surprisingly be joined by a Mimikyu who seemed to wander into the hospital. The Mimikyu would follow them home once Rawst was cleared safe without constant hospital care.

Although Calhoun would take care of his children most of the time, his wife often would neglect their older sister, Pecha, and Rawst when he was working or on work trips (which he tried to keep seldom). The parents' marriage would end when Pecha and Rawst were left in a car alone on a sweltering summer's day when Pecha was 5 and Rawst was 3. Calhoun managed to get full custody of his children. After this, their grandparents became a bigger presence in their lives as they stepped up to help their dad raise them. All five would live in the same household for the rest of Rawst's childhood.

After their parent's divorce, Calhoun would take Pecha and Rawst on many of his work trips which involved lots of camping and bug hunting. Rawst was a quiet, spacey child who would often be caught staring at nothing. Unlike their father and sister, Rawst would attract ghost types instead of bugs around them.

Once the kids were reaching their teen years, their grandmother, Leppa, would press Calhoun to enroll his children in school instead of just traveling with them around the world. Naranja-Uva Academy, being one of the best schools and in their grandparent's home region of Paldea, was the one Leppa pushed for and Calhoun decided was best for his children. Their cousin, Aman, would also attend this school which helped them not be totally alone when they first started.

It was during his time at Naranja-Uva that Rawst would become more comfortable with themself and begin exploring their gender identity, until they felt that they are nonbinary. This choice was very supported by their family wholeheartedly.

They would finish schooling when they were 18, their track having been in humanities, and they was aimless for a small period of time. They mostly waited tables at their Tita's restaurant during this small wait time.

Rawst, in attempts to cover up the loneliness and other problems they face in life, started to play video games and watch horror movies more until one fateful day they decided to post on youtube. Their deadpan nature and funny commentary won a lot of subscribers until Rawst suddenly found themselves as one of the more famous Youtubers

Their youtube channel is still constantly growing subscribers. They've taken up streaming as well and also finds it enjoyable.

Extra

Possibly due to their unique birth and also having their Mimikyu, Annabelle, there at the hospital then (Also Annabelle possibly decided to stick Rawst's soul back into their body multiple times during this), Rawst seems to attract both ghost types and real ghosts. They have been able to see ghosts their entire lives, but keep this hidden. They haven't even told Pecha and usually live by a "pretend they're not there" rule because of a bad experience they had with a malevolent spirit when they were very young.

Ships

Phasm Cam Shipping | Ren x Rawst (Ren belongs to @bellafragolina )

Strawberry Bloom Shipping | Rawst x Reina (Reina belongs to @outoutdamnspark )

Gaming Bros Shipping | Gabi x Rawst (Gabi belongs to @bubblymilkgalaxy )

[rafesgfs]

side to side

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: In which you're performing your hit single in front of your fellow Avengers cast-mates and Chris can't seem to take his eyes off of you, catching the attention of a few cameras.

"I'm here with the biggest pop-star of this generation, and she plays the very talented daughter of Tony Stark," the interviewer announced your name, smiling brightly at you as the camera panned your way. The hundreds of thousands of fans at home screaming when your face appeared. "How do you feel with all your nominations tonight?"

You smiled at the camera, giving a small wave at the people watching at home. "Honestly, I'm just glad I was even considered for these nominations. I mean, my girls Taylor, and Billie...they're amazing and I'm so happy to be put in the same category as them."

The lady grinned at you, her eyes twinkling. Or maybe it was her sparkly dress, the fabric nearly blinding you with how it shined under the lights. "If you ask me, you've got a pretty good chance at winning. I mean, your hit single—Side to Side—surpassed, like, a billion views in just a month? That's impressive."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without my fans." you replied, winking at the camera.

It was that time of the year again, where every artist, actor, and YouTuber hit the stage for the People's Choice Awards. With your crazy schedule, and the lack of sleep, you had planned to skip the award show until your friend, and co-star, Chris Evans—Captain America himself—convinced you otherwise. Even with the categories you've been nominated for had been more than a handful, but it was the begging and constant complaining from Chris that made you get off your tired ass and put it into a tight dress.

Your hit single, Side to Side, had everyone anticipated for your performance, unsure if you would be performing until the producers had put your name into the advertisement, making fans blow up Twitter. You were sure they had advertised your own song, along with your movie nominations, more than you ever had.

With nominations of Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Action Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Female Movie Star of the Year (Amara Stark), Female Artist of the Year, Song of the Year (Side to Side), Music Video of the Year (Into You), Beauty Influencer of the Year, and Social Celebrity of the Year, you had your hands full, which had only made your manager glow with happiness.

"Of course!" the interviewer agreed, glancing at the teleprompter filled with tiny words. "It was rumored that you wouldn't be coming, and a lot of us were upset, including me. Was that just a rumor or..."

"Actually, it's not that far off. I'm fucking—oh, shit—oh no!" you gasped, covering your mouth before anymore foul words could come out on live television. Instead of correcting you, the lady laughed, patting your arm softly. "Can't say that on tv. My bad. I, uh, with everything going on, I've been really tired, and I haven't slept in a week. I just wanted to chill, and accept my nominations at home but someone convinced me to come. So, if I say or do anything ridiculous tonight, I'm blaming him and my lack of sleep."

She nodded, clapping slowly. "I think that's fair. Is that someone, your onscreen father, RDJ?"

"He was one of the many people who unsuccessfully changed my mind, but no, it was Chris Evans. He promised me a day with his adorable dog, Dodger, and I couldn't refuse." you said, grinning at how his face had changed from hopeless to cocky as soon as he brought up Dodger.

"If I'm remembering this correctly, Chris Evans is that very handsome man you had kissed in your music video earlier this year. Into You, right? How do you feel kissing one of your co-stars outside of the movies your working on?"

"Technically, it was still acting, and I have kissed him before, so it wasn't awkward at all." you answered, glad Chris had accepted the role. Not only had it sky-rocketed the views and streams, but it made you feel better that it was his lips you were kissing and not a random model's. Yet, it didn't feel as professional as it had before when you pulled away after a take.

In scenes where you had to kiss the Boston actor, it was as professional as kicking Anthony Mackie's ass in Civil War but the kisses you shared on the set of the music video was definitely more personal. At the time, you had brushed it off as Chris being recently single, but now that you had broken up with Henry, you started questioning it again.

The interviewer nodded, squinting once more to read the words off the teleprompter before asking you another question that would certainly make the headlines. "I've been reading up on all those juicy tabloids and I've got one question that would satisfy my curiosity. Was Into You written about Henry Cavill or Tom Ellis?"

Usually, that type of question made you change the subject or altogether avoid the matter but this time, you wanted to joke about your failed engagement. "Henry, but Side to Side was written about Tom since I wanted more Grammy's considering the last album I put out won me a few. But this time, I'm gonna do it without an engagement."

The woman faked a laugh, surprised by the blunt honesty of your answer. "Um, you certainly do have a thing for British men, eh? I don't want to keep you up, but one more thing, for the fans. They've been dying to know if there's anything going on between you and Chris Evans. Any tea you wanna spill?"

"There's none to spill. We're just friends but it's always amusing scrolling through Twitter to find these edits of us." you replied, fidgeting slightly with the hem of your dress. Like usual, you had wondered if you should've worn something less extra but you had let your stylist play dress up with you for the past few months.

"Of course. Well, good luck to you, and I can't wait to see your performance." she said, giving you a little pat on the shoulders before announcing your name once again.

You got off the little platform, immediately taking Chris' awaiting hand, holding onto it as you climbed down the steps in your dangerous stilettos. Sighing, you leaned on him, trying to avoid the blinding camera flashes. "That was more exhausting than I thought it would be. You need to get me some caffeine after this is over because there's no way I'm making it to the after show without at least a few cans of Red Bull."

"So dramatic." Chris grinned, childishly sticking his tongue out as he guided you down the red carpet, stopping when told to take a picture. He let go of your hand, only to wrap it around your waist as you posed for the pictures. "Are you going to the after party?"

Posing seriously for a few seconds, you let your smile back on your face, facing the man beside you. "I was thinking about it, take a few photos, and head back home. Aren't you?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could ditch it and just hang out. You know, I did promise you some time with Dodger and you could waste a couple hours sleeping." he replied, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. Flashing you a shit-eating smirk, he nudged you a little, pulling you away from the blinding flashes. "What do you say?"

You opened your mouth to answer only to be cut off by your manager, Alexandre coming out of nowhere to rip you away from Chris' arms. The latin man sighed in annoyance, glancing at his watch while giving you the look you've seen too many times before. "You're supposed to be in wardrobe right now. Get your ass backstage, and change before you miss your own performance. As for you, Mr. Evans, Megan wants your ass in a chair."

"I'll see you after." you say, getting dragged by your manager, winking at the actor before walking towards the changing area, the cameras following you until they couldn't enter the area.

Getting ready before a huge performance always calmed you down, maybe it was the smell of makeup or the feel of designer clothing made especially for you, but something about it made you feel comfortable and cozy. It was like a routine, especially with all the music videos and movies you had to film, the makeup, the hair.

They made you sit back, giving you your phone like a child while they made you even more sparkly than before, making sure you'd stand out against the flashing lights during the performance. A performance you made sure no one would ever forget. Smiling, you let your thoughts drift back to a certain super soldier as you were pampered.

—

"Welcome to the People's Choice Awards!"

The room darkened, the blue and pinks lights focusing on the stage as cameras all turned towards your shadow. Making sure your mic was set properly, tried to see past the darkness, to see a familiar face or two but with the headache coming on from the tight half-ponytail didn't help your case. The music started, the beat vibrating, you flipped your hair, and started.

"I've been there all night

I've been there all day (Nicki Minaj)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Let then hoes know)"

You rode the bike, belting out in your microphone, the attached headset limiting your movements a little. Gripping the handles, you made eye contact at the camera to your left, winking at it as you pedaled.

"I'm talkin' to ya

See you standing over there with your body

Feeling like I wanna rock with your body

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'

I'm comin' at ya

'Cause I know you got a bad reputation

Doesn't matter, 'cause you give me temptation

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'"

As you had sung, your eyes had adjusted to the bright spotlight focused on you, seeing a shadow of the one person you wanted to make you walk side to side. While you had answered the reporter's question, you hadn't been completely honest. Some of the lyrics had been written for the Bostonian; or to be more exact, your sex fantasies. With the chorus coming up, you let go of the handles, trying not to fall on your ass as you clapped your hands above your head, the claps matching the beat.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I..."

Trying to be bold, you stared at him, his face in particular. The spotlight had blinded you so much that you couldn't see what his reaction was—or anyone's for that matter—but maybe it was a good thing. After all, his gaze always made you blush no matter how hard you tried not to. Pedaling faster, you threw your head back, hoping the motion would draw everyone's—Chris'—eyes on your chest.

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

With the help of a shirtless dancer, you got off your bike, taking the sheer jacket from him, and putting it on as you walked towards the front of the stage, moving your hips in to the beat of the song. Resting a hand on a shirtless dancer, you positioned yourself so you were grinding your ass against his crotch, throwing back an arm around his neck.

"Been tryna hide it

Baby, what's it gonna hurt if they don't know?

Makin' everybody think that we solo

Just as long as you know you got me

And boy, I got ya

'Cause tonight I'm making deal with the devil

And I know it's gonna get me in trouble

Just as long as you know you got me"

Sashaying to the little balance beam at the front of the stage, you made sure your hips swayed more than usual.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

A few seconds after your note ended, you strike a pose on the balance beam, posing for a few more seconds while the cameras turned their attention away from you and onto the queen of rap herself: Nicki Minaj. The leather, pink bodysuit was identical to yours except for the color, her attitude fitting the badass outfit. She began to walk towards the stage, never breaking eye contact with the camera in front of her while the men pretending to work out to the choreo.

"Uh, yeah

This the new style with the fresh type of flow

Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle

Come through yo, get you this type of blow

If you want a ménage, I got a tricycle

All these bitches' flows is my mini-me

Body smoking, so they call me Young Nicki Chimney

Rappers in they feelings 'cause they feelin' me

Uh, I-I give zero fucks and I got zero chill in me

Kissing me, copped the blue box that say Tiffany

Curry with the shot, just tell 'em to call me Stephanie

Gun pop, then I make my gum pop

I'm the queen of rap"

By the time she had finished her verse, you had caught up with the multitasking of both working out and singing, able to use your full singing capabilities for your high note. Nicki joined you on stage, hyping up the crowd while you built up for the high note, almost every camera pointed at you except for the one focused on capturing the headline-worthy expression slapped on Chris' face.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give em up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all night, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)

I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all day, baby) (Ooh, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)"

Both you and Nicki motioned for the dancers to come towards you, curling your index finger at the sexy men. Singing the refrain, you both made them drop to their knees in front of you, as if they were kneeling at your command.

Just as the last note was sung, everyone clapped, the majority standing up, and more cheered. You noticed Chris hadn't done either, still sitting in his motionless while two camera men pointed their cameras at him. Your eyebrows furrowed, thankfully after the spotlight had shifted over to the miniature stage where the two hosts were babbling about nominations.

You were ushered off the stage along with the queen of rap herself, taking a few backstage photos before quickly returning back to your dressing room to change into your tailored dress. Your mind had wandered to why Chris hadn't applauded—not that he was obliged too, but a little something would've nice, especially with all the days put into the performance.

Taking a deep breath, you entered the big room, filled with your co-stars and other A-list celebrities. Little did you know you'd find out the reason to your question in the morning.

—

The loud ringtone woke you up, the sound obnoxious and borderline abuse to your ears. Beside you, Chris groaned, rolling onto his stomach, trying to muffle the sound of the call with his arm draped over his head. Putting him out his misery, you lazily reached for your phone, pressing the green button with dread, seeing the name across the screen.

"Hello—"

"You're trending on Twitter." Alexandre announced, happy with the results of the previous awards show. While it wasn't something as big as a Grammy or Oscar, judging by the amount of awards you had taken home, you became the people's favorite. "Hold on, lemme rephrase that. You and Chris are trending. Number one, world wide."

Glancing at the man sleeping beside you, you sat up, confused by the information given to you. You blamed Chris for making you stay up so late for your confusion. "Um, why? Did I accidentally have another nip slip?"

"What the hell?" Chris mumbled, rolling onto his back, his arm grazing your bare stomach. He immediately took it back, sitting up to look over your puzzled face. "What's going on?"

You shrugged, putting your phone on speaker so Alexandre could explain. Your manager chuckled, knowing you had stayed the night with Chris. He was just waiting for the day you'd finally have the guts to speak about the growing sexual tension. "Okay, Alex, explain."

"As much as I would love to go into full detail, I have other stuff to do so, I'm going to give you the basics. Chris' reaction to your performance went viral, people are shipping the both of you, and there's been thousands of memes made." Alexandre replied, a smile evident in his voice. "Anyways, I have to go. Got some interviews to schedule. Have fun getting your way out of this, Chris."

Your phone screen went back to the home screen, a picture of your family dog, Buster, smiling widely. Looking at Chris, you saw his eyes widened, his hands coming to rest of his face in embarrassment as he fell back onto the bed with a bounce, his head nearly hitting the headboard. "Oh, fuck."

"Are you going to show me what your face looked like or do I have to scroll through Twitter until I find it? Oh! Maybe they edited it in my performance." you thought out load, tapping on the YouTube app. You hadn't trusted yourself enough to log into your official account, knowing you'd probably make a mistake so you opted for having a secondary account where you could watch cat videos without the anxiety of posting something stupid.

Chris' hand snatched your phone away, tucking it in his pocket, the sweats he had slept in was somehow wrinkled, and his shirt damp from the warmth. "You wanna get some food? I'll cook some bacon but you'll have to make the pancakes 'cause the last time—"

"I wanna see your reaction." you whined, reaching across his stomach for your phone. Chris turned his body away from you, shielding the phone from your reach. "Chris!"

He waved your attempt away, rolling off the bed, his feet hitting the floor before you could fall back on the mattress.You poured, getting on all fours, crawling towards the edge. Chris took a step back, brows furrowing. "It's not important. Let's get you some food."

"Fine." you mumbled, an idea making you light up. Rolling off the bed, you glanced at his phone on the nightstand, exposed and easy to take. With quick reflexes, you grabbed his phone, rolling back on the bed until you reached the other side, making it impossible for him to reach for his phone back.

"Hey!" the Bostonian shouted, launching himself on the bed in attempt to get his phone back. He made a noise as you rushed out of your room, locking yourself in the nearby bathroom, laughing evilly when he threw himself at the door. He yelled out your name, his fist banging on the door. "I'm serious! Don't!"

Ignoring his begging, you opened his phone with your thumbprint. How ironic how much he didn't want you to look at his phone when he was the one who insisted you have the password to it. His arguments became louder as you opened up his Twitter, immediately heading to the trending section, seeing both your names at the number one spot.

"Damn, I look hot." you joked out loud, making Chris silent for a second before pleading for you not to continue. You smirked, scrolling through the tweets, trying to find his reaction. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? Did you fall on your face or something?"

Chris groaned, banging his head on the door in defeat as he heard your almost inaudible gasp, that quickly turned into little giggles. If he wasn't so embarrassed, he would've broken the door down to hold you in his arms. "Oh, no."

Bursting out into hard laughter, you fell into the large bathtub, hitting your head on the wall but you couldn't care less. The expression on his face during your performance had been borderline comical, the wide eyes, the jaw hanging open, the open hand resting on his chin while his eyes stayed strained on you the whole time, never wavering from your body, the sexy choreography making his jeans tight.

Cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, tears ran down your cheeks, your stomach cramping from the maniacal laughter. Lifting yourself up from the tub, you stumbled to the door, your loud laugh ringing out towards the whole house. You let Chris in the bathroom, his phone quickly taken from your hand but it was too late. The blush on his cheeks wasn't going away anytime soon. You leaned against him, your head resting on his chest, while you panted out a question. "Why did you look like you were trying to attract flies in your mouth?"

Chris groaned again, covering his eyes with a hand while the other rested on your back. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Oh, God, no." you giggled, wiping the tears away, beginning to calm down. Glancing up at him, you noticed everything above the shoulders was gleaming red, the embarrassment too unbearable for him. "Chris, you looked exactly like the first time we were forced to share a bed together."

"Yeah, you have that affect on me."

"You gonna tell me why you looked so ... shocked? Or do I have to search through Twitter and go with whatever fan theory makes the most sense?" you asked, unable to keep the smug grin off your face. Chris closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't made you come to the awards show in the first place. You raised an eyebrow, fingers itching towards his phone. "You know I'll do it, Evans."

The man raised his hands, taking them off of you as he paced around the bathroom, deciding if this embarrassing moment was the right time to finally confess. "It's just, you know, the dance was so ... sexual and hot that I probably wasn't the only one looking at you like that. You can't exactly blame me for being shocked, watching the girl I'm in love with—"

Chris stopped as you be watched the colors drain out of your face, immediately freezing when he realized what he had said. Both of you stared at each other, eyes wide, not moving a muscle, barely blinking; the atmosphere so tense neither of you were breathing, waiting for the other to talk. But neither of you wanted to go first, terrified.

It wasn't until you started to feel dizzy that you realized you hadn't been breathing, letting out a huge breath, trying to relax while Chris did the same, his hands shaking, a nervous tick he got whenever he was anxious. You got the courage to speak first.

"What?"

It was better than nothing.

Chris was so nervous he nearly ran out of the room. There wasn't some kind of handbook or script he could read, helping him tell one of his best friends how head over heels he was for her. So, he said what his brain was stewing. "What?"

"What—what?" you replied, unsure if he even said the L word, so lightheaded by the sudden confession.

The actor stilled, eyes widening even further, while his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "What?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Say what one more time, Evans, and I will make nothing but mac and cheese for the rest of your stay." you threatened softly, getting tired of not having an answer to your one-worded question.

Chris took a deep breath, hands trembling as he clasped them together, hoping to find the right words, hoping his inner thoughts would come out clear, giving you the answer you asked for. "I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"

"What you were saying before. You know, before you looked like you saw a ghost and almost stopped breathing. I think that would be a good start." you replied, backing up to take a seat on the plush chair. Chris mirrored your actions, putting down the lid to the toilet before sitting down.

"This isn't the way I wanted you to find out." Chris whispered, his blue eyes trained on the emotions that flashed on your face. Your uncertainty of the situation didn't help his anxiety.

"Okay, um, were you going to tell me in the first place?" you asked, playing with the hem of your shirt—it had been a borrowed Patriots shirt from him. Looking back, you realized all the little things he'd done hadn't been because his platonic love for you. "Or were you just going to keep letting it be this way?"

Fidgeting with his hands, Chris peered through his eyelashes, seeing the hurt flash across your face before you quickly composed it. "Scott was hyping me up, trying to convince me to tell you before you got into another relationship. Do you know the real reason I broke up with Jenny? It hurt like hell when you announced you were engaged. Fuck, I couldn't even pretend to be happy because you were going to have the life I wanted with you, with someone who wasn't me. It was selfish and I got really mad at myself for being a dick."

"But—"

"And then the horrible, horrible relief I felt when you called off the engagement." Chris continued, his heart clenching. "Truth to be told, that was the day I found out I was in love with you, breaking things off with Jenny. Of course, I wanted to wait until you moved on, hoping to be the friend you went to but with my schedule, that was impossible. So, you seemed out comfort in Henry fucking Cavill."

"You're in love with me?" you whispered, hoping this wasn't some kind of cruel dream. If it was, you wouldn't mind staying.

The actor nodded, waiting for you to call him names and rush out. "Yes. You can leave or slap me or whatever you want to do but I love you."

You got up, running a hand through your hair. "Okay."

Chris' heart sank, wishing for any other kind of reaction, wishing you'd do something. Taking a deep breath, he got up. "Is this a goodbye?"

Frowning, you walked up to him, taking his face between with your hands, pressing your lips softly to his. You could feel his heart beat, the little organ beating so hard. You pulled away before he could recover from his shock, before he could kiss you back.

"Hello."

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 4: Circles and Cycles

part 3

Part 4

Viren: *smirks and plinks Runaan's coin to Ethari*

Ethari, furious: You throw another Moonshadow at me and I'm gonna lose it.

Circles and Cycles

Angst rating: 8/10

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem.

What if we are gifted with Iron Man Elf Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost - almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone?

Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would love making Ethari stay close to him of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. Making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. Mmhmm. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like this is research I swear

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Ruthari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What thwarting Viren looks like, I couldn't possibly guess. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in outwitting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

Ethari understands the difference between "you can" and "therefore you should." He might sacrifice his own world to save his husband, but he'd never sacrifice someone else's world. That's one of the Moonshadow cultural limits I've noticed: they accept boundaries when it comes to other people's autonomous rights, especially regarding life and death.

These limits could get pushed. Ethari will be under great duress and emotional strain if he goes through this kind of interaction with Viren. And maybe he will choose some dark things. Everyone else has. But I'm placing all my eggs in the basket labeled "Saved By Love." Either I'm right, or I'll get the best angst omelets in the universe. And I do love omelets. A villain invented them, you know. ;)

Another support for Ethari not making the key for Viren: the real Key exists!

Callum has it right now. The plot doesn't need Ethari's key (yet? ever?), but it does need Ethari to learn what he's made of, to stand up for something, or against something, or both at once. And once he learns what he will and won't do and the universe has rewarded his discovery with the return of his beloved husband then Ethari will be ready to take on whatever else the plot has in mind for him.

Depending on the plan, all of these events could happen in S4, as a setup for even bigger things to follow. Viren's wishes can be thwarted here and the show's overall tension will only continue to rise. It would let Ethari flex yes pls his skills so we know who he is, it would show how driven Viren can be for a long-term goal, it would let Claudia saunter further downwards, it would reveal some human/Moonshadow history, and it would resolve the seasons-long tension regarding Runaan's fate, allowing for the cycle of speculation, feels, angst, and Ruthari fanart to begin again. ;) Viren would need to find another way to pursue his long-term goal. And Callum's Key will get a little more clarity on just how important it is to the fate of the world - which will make everything he does, and everyone he talks to, and anyone who knows what he's carrying, intensely important.

Nyx is gonna steal it isn't she, omg chaos birb

To Viren, Ethari was a main course, meant to be devoured and consumed in his lifelong quest for something that will finally satisfy. But to Ethari, Viren was just empty calories to be passed over in favor of ordering his perennial favorite dish, one more time.

Once Ethari escapes Viren's clutches with as much of his family as he can rescue, Viren may turn back to looking for the real Key, especially if someone's seen it recently. Hunting a kid probably seems easier than hunting a full-grown Moonshadow craftsman who just outsmarted him. okay so maybe Nyx stealing it would be a good thing and save Callum's life

Ethari could go on to help repair the Sunforge, or rebuild the Moonhenge, or work on constructing Moonshadow villages in Katolis if he hasn't been ghosted for abandoning everyone after the forest fire. He might build magical devices for any number of reasons, to help all kinds of characters. Hopefully, wherever he goes, he'll have Runaan with him, in some way, for at least a little while. Cycles be like, and I feel like Runaan will not want to remain still for long, for whatever reason. Does he need revenge, atonement, justice, a new body, to find Rayla, to find Ezran? He'll be back in action as soon as he can, I think.

Okay, but, I'm so soft at the thought of a scene where Runaan and Ethari come before King Ezran. The husbands tried to save their people Runaan's way, the old way, and it only continued to endanger them. Following the cycle, as Moonshadows do, was the wrong move. But the son of the last human Runaan killed reached out with mercy and broke a thousand years of suffering and sorrow and hatred. Ezran did what Runaan couldn't: he saved the Moonshadow elves from total destruction. And that, more than anything else in the world, could soften one very broody assassin's heart toward humans again.

What would Runaan do, if his heart truly changed toward humans? What would he say to Ezran? I could see him struggling for a long moment before dropping to one knee to pledge his heart as he once had to do before the Dragon Throne. He doesn't know any other way but to serve. Ezran, reading the whole room and everyone's feelings before he tells Runaan that No, we don't do that here. That he's free, and free means free. No chains, no oaths. Just trust and friendship. He should get to make his own decisions for a change, even though that can be hard and scary sometimes. Runaan being genuinely scared, because that's too much freedom. But he's not alone. He has Ethari, and Ezran, and Rayla, and Callum, and their people, and their allies. And no matter what else happens, the people of Katolis - elven and human - will find a way forward. Together.

part 5

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 04 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

Word count: 2.3K

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Nightmares

You're looking at the garden, admiring the little white flowers that only blossom at night. You're tired, eyes heavy, but you can't sleep. Some bats are flying down there, and you wonder if they live nearby. A much larger figure passes by, in a blur. Suddenly, the lights go off. Opening the window, you bend over, holding on the bars, to try and see more. Then, you hear a click.

Your head turns at the door. Did it just unlock? Is the system electrical? Then why does Bruce always uses a key? Moving to the door, you slowly turn the handle and... Another click. It's open. Pulling it, you step forward. The silence makes you anxious, and so does the darkness. Looking at the sides, you start walking down the hall.

“Bruce?” You call out, and your voice echoes through the place. You get no response.

Your legs keep moving, taking you downstairs and to the door, which is wide open. Why is Bruce doing this? Is it a test? Or did something happened to him? You shouldn't go. You should–

You're moving, against your will. Why are you moving against your will? Wasn't that the plan? To wait for an opportunity and run away?

The gates are open too, and they're the only thing you can see in the darkness. The next thing you know is that you're on the streets. Empty streets, no lights on. You're taking the way to the abandoned mall you claimed, taking all the right entrances and the elevator that leads to the underground. Your old house.

You walk through the garage, among the many cars you own. Reaching your private headquarters, you see piles of money. The jewels too, more shiny than usual.

“Is anyone here?” The place doesn't seem abandoned. You know they're still working for you, even after all that time in prison. They wouldn't dare to abandon you.

“Look who's back.” Your sister comes out of nowhere, followed by her boyfriend, the Joker. “Where were you, little sis?”

“I got out.” You could tell them the truth, that Batman held you hostage. But you don't want them to retaliate. “What are you doing here? You're not supposed to come uninvited.”

There's something in the air, in the atmosphere. It's so cold and and dark, like you're drowning in it. A weird feeling builds up as if you need to go home. But this is home, the only home you ever had.

What are you doing here? You made a promise not to run away. Bruce told you he'd help, so why did he let you get out? Why did he let the doors open?

“We know everything, dear." Joker sing songs, pacing around you. “The Batsy broke you down... Or should I say, Bruce Wayne?”

“What?” How does he know that? “I was in prison. Belle Reve. I got out.” You repeat, turning on your heels to look Joker in the eye.

“And now you're back home,” Harley exclaims, hugging you. “Enjoy yourself, sis. This is who you are. Have fun, steal what you crave for, and then, one day, they will just get you again.”

“Thanks to you, I know who Batsy is.” Joke speaks again, getting your attention. “I can attack him in bright daylight. When he's vulnerable, away from his toys.”

“You know you'll go back there right? The paradise on Earth.” Harley starts again. “They always manage to find us. And once they do, the torture is tuned all the way up.”

“Shut up, Harley.” You burst out.

“I will make sure to tell Batman you helped me. I may even bring his head here so you can use it as a decoration.”

“Shut up!” You're covering your ears, trying to understand what happened. What you did. You didn't tell anyone about Bruce. You know you didn't. “Shut up!”

“You're going back to Belle Reve, sis. We always do. We'll die there.”

“Batman's blood is in your hands, Havoc. Upon his death, we will rule Gotham.”

“Shut up!”

You sit up abruptly, just as the door is being open. Breathing fast, you run to the bathroom before Alfred comes in. Closing the door behind your back, you slide to the floor, hands on your head. “It was just a dream. Just a dream.” You mumble to yourself. Why did it scare you so much? You shouldn't be sleeping. “I won't go back. It was just a dream. Just a dream...”

A knock on the door startles you. “(Y/N)?”

It isn't Alfred, it's Bruce. With your heart pounding against your chest, you stumble up, opening the door and almost collapsing against his chest when you step out. He looks down at you, worried.

“Hi,” you whisper, stepping back.

“You look terrified. What happened?” He touches your arm, guiding you to sit on the bed. Behind him, you see a cart with lunch.

“I fell asleep. I shouldn't, I... I had a nightmare. No big deal.” As you move closer to the headboard, you see a book on the nightstand. “What's that?” Taking it, you read the cover. Game Of Thrones.

“I decided to bring you that. So you'll have something to do.” Bruce sits on the bed, hesitantly. “It has some violence, but I think you can deal with that.”

“Isn't there a TV show about it?”

“I'll stream if for you once you finish the book.”

“Ok.” It's good to finally have something to do. Opening the book, you look through the first pages.

“Why did you say you shouldn't sleep?” He inquires. Shaking your head slightly, you don't answer. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?” Looking up from the book, you meet his eyes. Why is he so worried?

“Won't you answer me?”

“I don't like sleeping.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sustain his stare. Bruce has nice eyes, and they're kind. You can't remember the last time someone looked at you like this. “The nightmares are constant so... I take naps. Whenever I feel like I'm falling asleep I get up. I don't sleep for more than three hours every night.”

“And what do you do up all night?”

“Nothing. I stare at the ceiling. The garden... Did you know that the little white flowers only blossom at night?” Smiling, you put the book down and move to the window. The garden is beautiful. You grow mesmerized by it every day. The flowers and threes are amazing.

“(Y/N), you need to sleep. To rest.” Bruce walks over you, touching your arm to get your attention. “Do you want something to help?”

“I'm used to my sleep schedule, don't worry.” You meet his eyes for a few seconds before looking through the window again. “I saw some people there a few days ago.”

“An interview. Now go eat.” Bruce brings the cart as you sit in the armchair. Sweet potato soup, your favorite.

He shouldn't be here for lunch, though. “Shouldn't you be at work?”

His expression changes, and he looks sad. “It's Saturday.”

“Oh... And don't you have a girlfriend or something?” The question comes out suddenly, before you even notice what you said. That's the bad part of being honest all the time, you lost the ability to control your thoughts.

“No, I don't have anyone at the moment. Why?”

“Because it's Saturday. You should be with her.” In the back of your mind, the figure of Bruce with a woman in his arm, going to dinners, smiling and chatting, bothers you. You don't understand why. It's only natural. A handsome man like Bruce probably has a lot of women chasing him. Being rich only makes it worse.

“Don't worry. I'm all yours today.”

That makes you giggle, looking down at the soup. “The therapy session will be long then.”

As usual, Bruce waits until you're done eating. You're growing used to his presence, and sometimes you think you're even a little excited to see him. It's unbelievable how gentle he is. Nobody was ever gentle to you. It's weird how you're failing to look for an opportunity to run away. You're just not thinking about this anymore.

When you're done, you push the cart away, holding your glass of soda. “So... What are we talking about today?”

“I have news. And I need you to tell me how you feel about them.” Bruce is serious now, all professional. Did you do something? Why does he seem so distant?

“Alright.”

“Yesterday night I found the Joker.” He begins, eyes focused on you, reading your face. “He almost managed to run away, but one of his bombs went off before the time, while he was close. He blew up, thrown into the air, and when he fell, he broke his spine. There's a chance Joker won't ever walk again.”

You don't know what he wants you to say. People tend to connect you to the Joker, even though you haven't worked with him in years. You're more like enemies now. “Well, that's too bad for him. And for Harley. She'll be heartbroken.”

“What about you?”

“I won't say I'm happy about it, I'm just... I don't feel anything.”

“Have you and the Joker ever been in any kind of... Relationship?”

That's new. “No. He kissed me once, to make Harley jealous, but I kicked him in the balls for it.” The memory makes you smile. His face was priceless. “He did make some... propositions, but I never accepted.”

“Why?” Bruce seems very interested in this. What are you thinking? He's just trying to understand and help you. Nothing more.

“Because he wasn't my type,” you say with a smirk.

“Does that mean other men made the same kind of propositions and you accepted?”

“What? No!” You exclaim, putting the empty glass on the cart. “I... I'm not...”

“See? When you don't say the truth, I can make any assumptions.” He leans forward, as he usually does. You're not sure why, but you mirror his position, looking into his eyes. “The truth, please.”

“Well, it's true that he's not my type, but... In my world, love is dangerous. You have lots of enemies and having someone you care about gives them a weak spot. So I never really gave me or... Love... A chance.” It's funny how easy it feels to open up to Bruce now. It doesn't mean you enjoy saying these things, they're supposed to be a secret, but with time, you're getting used to it. He has an effect on you, this man.

“For some people, there's no need for love in some... Situations.”

“For some people, yes. For me... It would never feel right.” You move back again, looking down at the sunlight coming through the window, on the floor between you and Bruce.

“(Y/N), I know the guards used to beat you. But did they ever... Assaulted you any other way?” The heaviness in his voice is tangible. Bruce is angry, worried.

“No. Never.” You're quick to answer, and he soon seems to relax. “Everything they feel for me is disgust, thank God. That... Never happened. They only touch me to beat me up.”

“I'm... Happy to know that. A pretty girl like you... I couldn't help but wonder if they ever tried something so filthy.”

“Woman.” You correct him as usual, the word pretty burning through your mind. Does he really think you're pretty?

“Woman. Forgive me.” A smile. A smile comes to his lips and you're mesmerized. He's so handsome, and now even more.

“I like your smile,” you tell him, biting back a smile yourself. “Didn't know Batman had this ability.”

“You're improving.”

“Am I?” It comes to your mind suddenly, that he brought you here to prove a point. “I'm happy your project is going well.” Running a hand through your hair, you get up, moving to the bed.

“I don't think of you as a project.”

“Really?” You don't believe him. “Sometimes I wonder what will be my fate after this. You say you can put me back into the normal world, but I'm not sure I believe it... I think that I'll end up in Belle Reve. And it'll be even worse because now I'm used to all this.” Gesturing at the room in general, you look at him. “Comfortable bed, nice showers, beauty products... Not being hurt every single day.”

Going back to Belle Reve would break you down, you think. The villain in you says that you can take it, all over again if needed, but the other part... Tells you otherwise. The very thought of your old cell is enough to make you shake like a leaf.

“I will never let you go back there,” Bruce speaks up, intense eyes on you, burning. “Never.”

“Keep me here then... If that's what it takes. I don't mind.” You can barely hear your own voice. You can't believe you just said that, that you would be ok being here for the rest of your life. But if your options are this room or cell 304B, you'd pick this room.

“Let's see how things go. There's no need to rush.”

Nodding, you continue telling him about your connections with the Joker, and about the many times you were at war against each other. After dinner, you ask for a pencil or pen, so you can underline the parts you like in the book. Bruce brings you a blue pen before wishing goodnight and telling you to try and sleep well.

But you can't. It's 2 a.m. and you're reading. You find a blank page in the book, so you rip it off and decide to draw. It's been years since you've drawn, and you're not really sure what you're doing. A few hours go by until you're finished with it. Bruce. You just drew Bruce Wayne. You stare at his features. His eyes, nose, jaw... Lips. Folding the paper, you decide to use it as a bookmark. He won't find out if you keep it inside the book.

×

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2

[cherrystreet]

"should we just search romantic comedies on netflix and see what we find?" so, i totally come to you with every fic idea that pops into my head. but like, i reeeally need little snippets of the times harry and louis decide to put on netflix. like, after takeout arrives or for movie night with the lads or to pick a new show to watch because they just finished the office (us version this time). or even when they're bickering and get passive aggressive over what to watch for said movie night

This is a little different than what you wanted but that’s only because I don’t know how to write domestic pieces so I hope this is okay and ily xx

It didn’t start as a routine.

The first time it happened, it was a Tuesday night filled with too much homework, the October weather already too cold for Harry’s liking. The blinking cursor on a blank Word document seemed to be mocking him, laughing at his inability to form a cohesive thought after working nonstop for the past four hours. Eventually, he abandoned his endless string of papers, walking aimlessly around his apartment for the better part of an hour in an attempt to find something better than writing 5,000 words on Game Theory. Nothing jumped out at him, so he continued to shuffle around, sighing obnoxiously, until his roommate Sam hollered from the other room, “If you don’t cut it with those pathetic noises, I’m going to punch you in the throat.”

Harry frowned. “I’m not even being loud,” he yelled back.

“Shut up and do your homework.”

“But my brain is fried–”

“Harry, enough.”

“Ugh.” He kicked off his shoes and slumped down onto the couch, staring at the clock as the minute hand steadily ticked forward. Somehow, watching time was more appealing than reopening up his laptop and forcing himself to write another word.

Sam was right. Absolutely pathetic.

“What should I do?” he asked after a few minutes, eyes nearly glazed over.

“The fuck should I know,” Sam replied, finally appearing around the corner. “Go down to the Hub.”

“It’s too cold out for that. And it’s raining.”

“Order some food.”

“I don’t have any money on me.”

“Watch a movie.”

“Nothing good is on.”

“How would you even know?! The TV is off!”

Harry shrugged. “Gimme your Netflix password. Maybe new stuff has been added.”

“Will you finally stop talking?”

“Maybe.”

Sam reached for the remote to the TV. “Thank God.”

 It took about 17 minutes of “Chopped” for Harry to send out a text to everyone he could think of, a simple Come over. Everyone’s here. He didn’t want to sit alone, just wanted to unwind with the company of some friends. Sam was clearly no help, just kept yelling from his bedroom to keep the volume down, that “some people actually take their classes seriously, Harry.” And saying that everyone was already gathered together wasn’t technically a lie. Sam was there. And his fish. And the cast of “The Office,” currently streaming from the main TV in the living room.

Whatever. Semantics. People would be there shortly. People to talk to him and not tell him to shut up.

Twenty minutes later, Louis was standing in front of Harry, sweatpants too big and glasses smudged.

“Shut up,” he said, tugging on his hoodie strings. “What is this?!”

So much for that, Harry thought. “What?”

“You said people were here. It’s just you.”

“Is that so bad?”

“If I wanted to spend the night doing nothing and listening to someone drone on and on about nothing, I’d put on a Bob Ross special.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “Bob Ross is extremely talented…”

“Bob Ross is dead. And boring. And he never would have tricked me into coming here on a shitty Tuesday night under false pretenses.”

“I thought other people would show up!” He squished deeper into the couch cushions. “You gonna leave?”

Louis groaned and kicked Harry’s shoes out of the way as he climbed onto the couch beside him. “No. I came all the way here.”

“It’s, like, a nine minute walk…”

“Yeah, nine minutes in the wind and rain. You better have food as compensation. And why the fuck are you watching the British version of ‘The Office’? Why do you hate yourself? Give me the remote.”

Harry shook his head, standing up to grab snacks, wondering how constant abuse was the better alternative to staring idly at the wall.

The following Tuesday, Harry turned in his biochemistry assignment early, cracking his knuckles as soon as he his submit. It felt good to get rid of a week’s worth of studying, to not have to look at it anymore, and he slipped out of his jeans and into his most worn pair of pajama pants, the hole in the knee stretching with every wash. It didn’t take long for the couch to mold perfectly to his body, the apartment warm and quiet, Sam out for the evening. It was relaxing. It was welcoming. It was. Not what Harry wanted.

“Hey, I’ll order pizza,” he said through the phone’s receiver. “Dominos, if you want it.”

“I always want it,” Louis replied. “Cheap shot.”

“Pepperoni?”

“Ugh, Harry, can’t Steve Carell wait? We know what happens.”

“But it’s my favorite episode and I wanna watch you watch it.”

“I’ve seen it before.”

“I’ve never seen you watch it, though. Lou, they have a fucking benefit for rabies. Rabies. I need to see your face when Michael donates a giant check to a disease that’s already been cured.”

“Oh my God,” Louis snorted, but Harry could tell he was wearing him down. “Alright, whatever, fine, but make sure it’s extra cheese with the pepperoni.”

 Seven days later, Harry did much less arm twisting, just casually mentioning they were up to the start of season five. Louis texted back, Don’t start without me. I’ll know if you’re lying.

Harry sucked in his cheeks, smile worming its way out, anyway. Wouldn’t dream of it.

The last Tuesday of the month, Louis was knocking on Harry’s door without bothering to ask if he was busy. Harry let him in graciously, snacks already on the coffee table and blankets on the arm of the couch.

And just like that, Tuesday became Harry’s favorite day of the week.

It’s been five months since Harry and Louis created their non-date date night, and they’ve gone through nearly everything on the Netflix list that moderately sparks their interest. Comedies, dramas, documentaries, musicals… They’ve watched them all, not too picky, hunkering down together to enjoy a casual night of TV. And neither one of them got bored of it, never asking to cut the night short or go out to do something else. Harry loves having the time to unwind, loves the fact that he has something so comfortable to count on, loves Louis’ company more than just about anything.

And that’s why he snaps when Louis doesn’t show up on Tuesday night in late March, the Netflix home screen nearly burned onto Harry’s retinas, waiting for Louis to walk through the door and pick the movie. He taps his fingers along his thighs, annoyed, wondering where the hell he could be. Nine o’clock comes and goes, as does ten o’clock, and by 11:30, “The Holiday” playing quietly in the background, Harry is less angry and more concerned that something horrible has happened. Louis doesn’t answer his phone the second time Harry calls him, or the third, but he does by the ninth, beyond irritated when he picks up.

“Harry, what the fuck,” he says, his voice tight. There’s a lot of background noise but Harry can’t figure out where he might be. “You had better be fucking dying.”

Harry skims his finger along the frayed edge of the blanket, suddenly embarrassed. “No, but, like, where are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m at Ian’s. Is that why you called 100 times? Are you for real?”

“Why aren’t you here?” he says stupidly, his face hot. Who’s Ian? He hates him, regardless. “‘m watching Cameron Diaz try to seduce that hot British guy…”

“Jude Law?!”

“Yeah, him, and, like–”

“Harry, you called me nine times to talk to me about Jude Law.” It’s not a question.

“No,” he starts, “I didn’t. I called you nine times to ask why you stood me up.”

“Did we have plans?”

Harry looks down at his lap. “I mean, not verbal ones, but you always come here on Tuesdays and you’re not here now and–”

“Ian wanted to get a drink before he headed to Spain for the rest of the semester,” Louis says, cutting him off. “I didn’t think I needed to cancel a stupid friend hangout to do that. You’re kind of acting like a crazy boyfriend.”

“It’s not stupid and that’s not…” He starts to argue, but stops himself short, his heart racing in his chest. He knows he’s being irrationally angry and insane and, well, idiotically jealous, and now that Louis’ had to go ahead and say the B word, it’s ricocheting through his brain like live wire, sparking and hot. The thing is, they’re not boyfriends, because that’s not a line they’ve ever crossed, but just about everything they do - Tuesdays and otherwise - might argue that fact. They meet each other after class for coffee, they call each other on Sunday mornings, they spend school breaks at each other’s homes. Harry carries Louis’ backpack, Louis buys Harry dinner, they steal one another’s clothing… They share a fucking blanket on Harry’s Goddamn couch every single week, their knees brushing together, sending shocks up Harry’s spine, Harry unable to stop himself from stealing a series of unsubtle glances at Louis’ profile, his cheekbones, his lips. Fuck. His temple throbs and he does his best to swallow around the lump in his throat. Boyfriend. “Okay, yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he chokes out.

Louis breathes through the phone for a beat too long. “I’m safe. I wasn’t kidnapped. I just… We’ll hang out later, alright?”

He doesn’t sound angry anymore, but Harry feels too antsy to keep talking. “Yeah, later. Bon voyage to Ian. I’ll see you this weekend or something.”

“Okay,” he replies. “Or something.”

Harry hangs up the phone with a thousand words on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows every single one of them and wills himself to stop thinking about the fact that he’s gone and lost his mind over his best friend spending the night out with a guy who isn’t him. He should be here on this couch, thigh pressed up against Harry’s, and this is not the way it was supposed to go. None of it was.

He must doze off at some point, because the next thing he knows, there’s a bang on the door, followed by a tinny voice mumbling, “Please let me in. I’m tired and cold.”

Harry flicks on the hallway light and pulls open the door as quickly as his body will allow himself to, finding himself face to face with a pink-cheeked Louis. “Lou, it’s…” He looks over at the clock. “Two in the morning.”

Louis shrugs, worming his way inside. “Yeah, well. I’m two hours late for our date. Sorry about that. You still watching ‘The Holiday’?”

He bites back his smile, body feeling like it’s deflating. “Finished it earlier. Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?”

“That… Sounds like the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Harry snorts, closing the door behind him and follows Louis into the living room. Louis’ already making himself comfortable on the couch, yawning. “Then what do you suggest?”

“We haven’t checked out the horror genre in a while.”

“Yeah, for a reason.” He sits beside Louis, lets Louis drape his legs across his lap. Like a magnet, his hand immediately goes to grip Louis’ ankle. “I get nightmares.”

Louis looks up at him from under his lashes, blinking slower than usual, and it makes Harry’s stomach twist. Maybe he’s tired. Maybe it’s something else. “Big baby.”

“Yeah,” he says, smirking, thumb drawing circles across Louis’ skin. “That’s me.”

Neither of them say anything else, nor do they move, and Harry’s trying to find something to say that isn’t something clicked for me tonight, but Louis speaks first, licking his lips.

“Sorry I stood you up,” he says softly, grabbing for the remote and selecting the first title on the menu, not looking at Harry. “I was a dick about it.”

Harry shrugs, inching his way closer, watching the way the screen’s colors dances across Louis’ face. “It’s alright. Just missed you.”

He can actually hear Louis swallow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Louis nods, biting at his bottom lip. He’s nervous. Harry exhales once he notices. “Can I stay over tonight?”

Harry isn’t sure what the implications are behind his question, or why Louis’ bothering to ask when he’s never asked before - usually just passes out on the couch or on Harry’s bed, curling up into a ball on the edge of the mattress - but it’s clear something has changed, based on the way Louis is looking up at him. He’s never looked at Harry like that before.

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs, “Lou, whatever you want.”

He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, doesn’t remember leaning in, but then there’s just breath between them, and then not even that, just skin on skin, warm and sweet and entirely too perfect. And Harry has no idea what’s playing on the screen in front of them, but it’s decidedly his new favorite film.

[instacaptain]

How to Organically Boost Your Instagram Growth

You're a brand or influencer on Instagram attempting to develop a follower. So, in your niche, you publish content, follow others, but nothing seems to work. Sure, here and there you get a few supporters— some of whom are in your sector. But you want to speed up the process and growth hack the heck out of your IG account. Well, there's good news— you can do it organically. We will dive into some of the techniques you can use — but first, let's look  at some of the factors your account is struggling with.

Why Aren’t Instagrammers Following You?

Knowing where you’re going wrong will help you to improve your Instagram marketing results. This goes for both influencers, brands, and anyone else who wants to become popular on the world’s second largest social media network. See if the following sounds like you.

You Don’t Publish Posts Consistently

The frequency of your posts matters. Why? Because Instagrammers are hyper-social and actively search for incredible content. So if people come across your profile and they see you spend days without posting, then they’re going to think you’re not active and will skip hitting that “follow” button. Even if you already have thousands of supporters, your commitment rates will be harmed by not continuously posting content. In case you didn’t know — Instagram’s new algorithm rewards content by pushing it up in your followers feed if your posts get a lot of engagement. So keep in mind as you grow your account — consistency is key!

You Ignore Your Audience

If you’re not engaging with your audience, then you’re hurting the image of your personal or corporate brand. Let’s not forget that Instagram is a social network — keyword social. It is therefore critical that you spend time responding to remarks every day and commenting on messages from others.  You should also make it a routine to find and share other people’s content.

Your Content is Low-Quality or Downright Boring

No one wants to view, read, or watch content that’s going to put them to sleep. Or worse — hurt their eyes. This is why it’s vital to publish high-quality content. Every video and photo you upload should be high-definition (both visually and audibly). If not, users will bounce off quicker than you can blink. Also, the topics you cover should be fascinating enough to attract and hold the attention of your intended audience. Investigate what is the trend and attempt to produce content around the subjects and thoughts. You can also examine your supporters to see what kind of material they want and what subjects they want. Use a poll with ideas for them to choose from. Alright, so what can you do to actively grow your Instagram account? Here are some organic marketing hacks to try.

Develop a Strategy For Content

You're not going to get far in your effort to improve your follow-up to Instagram without outstanding content. So to guarantee a coherent flow of eye-catching material, you need a plan. Your strategy should consist of pushing out high-quality posts that are packed with breath-taking visuals and those that evoke emotion or tell a story. Of course, the kind of content you post depends on the industry you're in and the audience you're looking to attract. So to start, you should focus on generating content that starts conversations, inspires, or makes people laugh. It's a good idea to create a theme around your content, so that when people see your posts, they can immediately identify it with your brand. You can do this using specific color schemes, filters, and layouts. Keep an eye on what performs well (and what doesn’t), so you know what to continue publishing. Once you have an idea of the forms of content and topics, you can create a monthly schedule. There are tools you can use to automate your social media posts, such as Hootsuite and HubSpot.

Concentrate on telling  stories

People today love stories. So if you’re looking to sell a product or service, or even your personal brand, then stories must be a part of your strategy. It's about giving your content narrative, character, and purpose. If you're able to enlighten, inspire, and/or entertain your audience, you're in the  money. What better way to share these stories than with Instagram Stories? To date, 500 million people use Stories every day. So it's a popular tool and  it's widely accepted. You can almost guarantee that users will at least click on your video to see what it's all about. And if you keep them short and engaging enough, you can get them to watch the entire thing (and even follow you afterward). Plus, about 33% of the most widely viewed stories are made by brands. So if you’re not already incorporating Instagram Stories into your campaign, then it’s definitely time to start!

Targeting a Specific Audience

There are over 1 billion Instagram users — so there’s plenty of fish in the sea to catch. But this doesn’t mean you need to cast your net far and wide. While this sounds like a plausible tactic, it’s not going to yield consistent or long-lasting results. For one, you can’t please everyone. You should direct your content to a particular group of people so that it resonates with them. Trying to create content for everyone will water down your feed and make it impossible to keep your followers happy. There's just not enough content for everyone to get around. So your bet is to sit down and investigate your target audience. Where are they located, how old are they, and what do they do? How about their problems, concerns, and desires? With this kind of insight, you can generate a plan that will make them calm. The kind of content they like to consume (memes, stories, live video) and  the themes that attract them the most.

Use the Hashtags that will Attract Your Target Audience

Alright, so you know who your audience is and the type of content they like. Now, it’s time to get their attention. Hashtags is one of the most effective ways to help non-followers find you. The key is to choose popular hashtags that aren't used too much, so your posts aren't lost in a sea of content. It’s also a good idea to include location-specific hashtags if you’re catering to a specific community or city. Keep an eye on your industry's trends so you can ride the wave and catch more fish possibly.

Experiment with Various Posts and Strategies

There is no technique of cookie-cutter to attract supporters of Instagram. These are individuals you need to know and adjust to with requirements and wishes. But it's hard to do this without some kind of experimentation. You don't  want to be comfortable or complacent about your strategy. There is always room for improvement. What is working today may not necessarily work tomorrow. You should try to change your content types, topics (as long as they are relevant) and your approach. Of course, you want your strategy to stay true to your brand, or it’ll come off as non-authentic and spammy. Some of the things you can test include: Post frequency Different types of content (cinemagraphics, memes, etc.) The times and days you post The hashtags you use The content in your posts This isn’t an all-inclusive list but should give you a good headstart. It is also essential to remember now that your hashtags can also help  organize your content. It is therefore optimal to use the same hashtags on comparable content. This will allow followers (and non-followers) to find the content they’re looking for. You can think of hashtags like folders. Some of the hashtags that you can use are: Industry tags (#hotel) Niche tags(#Healthandwellness) Branded tags (your company or product/service name) Community tags (#GoBucks) Location tags (#OrlandoHotels) Event tags (#NationalWomensDay2019) Event type tags (#WeddingDay) This should give you an idea of how you can use hashtags to make your posts more organized and visible.

Get Real Followers on Instagram and Not The Fake

Your approach to buying Instagram followers should be strategic. You'll find a lot of social media influencers buying followers for their accounts. And that's what they're doing to help build their credibility and earn more  followers. People today will only follow accounts that they perceive as  popular and trustworthy. You can also get free Instagram likes and  followers using old tricks, but it wouldn't last long. Social proof is a part of gaining this trust. Now, before you go and buy followers, you need to make sure they're real people and accounts, not bots and fake profiles. This will make your IG account look bad and could potentially have it banned or suspended. After researching dozens of growth services available, the best service was a company called Hashtags For Likes. You can pay monthly at Hashtags For Likes for a constant stream of true followers from the audiences you're targeting. It's a strategic approach — not a spam hack.

Start Building Your Instagram Account Now!

As you can see, there are many ways you can organically develop your account. Even buying followers is an organic way to use your newfound social proof to get more followers. Once you have a good number of followers, you will find it easier to get more and more followers. So start putting together your strategy and let us know how it will work out in the comments! Read the full article

[northwest-cryptid]

Here's the thing that no one seems to understand...

Living with chronic illness/pain, as a poor person; with medical problems like asthma. I am in permanent stealth mode not even intentionally, but because I live with it. You don't know unless I tell you.

I meet people every day who assume I'm just some able-bodied wealthy person who lives a comfortable life. Why? How?

Well you follow me on the website where I vent a lot so you don't often get to see me as I am, but as someone who lives with a ton of life crippling problems and who knows a ton of people who also do. Let me tell you right now that I don't go through my day to day life suffering. We don't like, limp around going "ooooh ow the pain and suffering; ugh I'm miserable 24/7; oh man it SUUUUCKS"

No, you'll find me in VRChat with my friends just fine, sure I'm absolutely dealing with muscle soreness, general neck pains which give me headaches; I'm likely very hungry and my stomach is in a ton of pain from a poor diet of "whatever we can afford" but I'm not going to like... express that all? We're in the middle of hanging out and we're having a great time, why the fuck would I just be like "oh man the thing I experience every day is STILL happening!"

I literally only do that to ask for aid, or to vent my frustration with the world in general on a very specific website (it's tumblr) but in my day to day life? Nah. I once got an ask that was like "buddy do you do ANYTHING other than complain?!" Which, like dude you're following me on the website where I word vomit; but the truth is...

This week I built a few desks to revamp my living space since I've not really unpacked or moved in despite living here for like 4 years. I cleaned my entire living space, I played a ton of Morrowind with my partner (we are playing through as Benny Biggershoes, descendant of Benny Bigshoes; we're an argonian mage it is very silly,) I also jumped into yet another unity project to do a bit of editing on my VRChat avi/world, got a bit of work done in Blender as well; played a ton of Once Human which I'm trying to figure out how the hell to stream since the game lags like crazy but has been a fun ride over the last few weeks. I'm also getting into MWO with some friends, I found some new bands/artists I'm really enjoying the sound of, my favorite DJ released a new track that was actually really solid and I was absolutely loving that. I've been successfully growing more plants in our garden, I even got a small greenhouse in my office now as well as an air purifier which is helping with my asth- oh fuck I can't mention that, if I mention negativity you'll suddenly forget all the other shit I talked about... uh, I practiced more art and made a new OC that's been fun to figure out how to draw since they're really stylized. I also worked a bit on my website which was fun; I'm enjoying figuring out how to make HTML do a bunch of silly stuff that I want my website to have. We've been cooking a lot more and that's been really fun; let's see what else oh right I also invented a new speedrun which I'm trying to get approved on Speedrun.com so that's cool.

Like, my point here is that yea I'm dealing with chronic pain, asthma, various horrible side effects of being poor (literally need to go to a doctor desperately to get meds but it's expensive and I don't have insurance yet, I've been sick with the same infection for upwards of like 4 months now.) It's all become normal, that doesn't mean it's okay, or that I need to be silent about it; not on my personal blog; not in my personal space. Yes I have a life outside of that all, but yes it is a constant in my life. I'd like to minimize that as much as possible.

It's upsetting to people because I don't LOOK disabled, I don't LOOK like I'm suffering, I don't LOOK like I need money. I don't LOOK like you think people in my position SHOULD.

So the people who would revel in my suffering can't, because I'm not; but those who seek to help me out of my suffering also see that I'm not constantly this pathetic wriggling mess and go "well guess they don't need my help, they seem fine!" Which is the worst because this results in me getting no help and also getting a lot of angry random anon hate about how I'm... uh, not allowed to vent about living with chronic pain, being poor, being disabled; living in a place where I can't afford to get on disability or benefits; and generally live in a shitty situation despite making the most of my life.

People don't like it when I'm happy because they think I'm supposed to be miserable, people don't like it when I'm miserable because that's not entertaining and they think of me as some kind of content creator to consume rather than a human being. Then when I play up a character people say I'm cringe, so like; man you really can't win with people ya know?

Fortunately, I'm winning with myself as best I can, it doesn't mean I wouldn't mind a hand up every now and then; it doesn't mean I don't need help, it doesn't mean I'm not still suffering from chronic illness, asthma (which I literally can't even get an inhaler for because I can't afford it), and a nearly 5 month long (as of now) sinus infection compounding with long covid.

Sure I have very real problems, and I gotta vent that sometimes; but I'm also not going to be some miserable sad sack 24/7. You find me in VRChat and you'd never know I have chronic pain that limits my mobility. You find me in an online game or out at the store or you ask me about unity on a forum and you'll never know I'm struggling to do everything that I do. Because it's normal to me, you don't mention how many times you drink water a day to stay hydrated, I don't mention how many times I need to sit down and rest or take anti-inflammatory meds; or pain killers. It's normal, but that doesn't mean I like it.