#everything's always a work in progress with me...

[feelingdozy]

SHUT UP AND DANCE - Robert Reynolds

Summary: When Val decides to set up a party for The New Avengers that they must attend, Bob finds himself stuck between his long lasting crush on you and his overwhelming doubt as the event swiftly sneaks up on him.

Warnings: oblivious Bob and reader, tooth-rotting fluff, friends to lovers, eventual romance, alluding to intimacy, fantasizing about each other, party setting, crowds, mention of anxiety

w/c: 3,3k

a/n: I got inspired while listening to old songs and one of them was this one and I just had to write something fluffy out for it and it reminded me so much of Bob

"you use this as your chance, swoop in, take her by the arm and ta-da! You got her heart" Yelena explained enthusiastically to Bob.

"That's-" he huffed, "it's not gonna work, Lena." Trying to deflect all possible reasoning it could be true.

"You got to believe me- or, better yet, you try! Bob!" She followed as the man started to retreat back to his room, hand twirling a rogue strand of hair that had fallen with his eager strides.

"it's like a damn teenage dream! I- I just don't think.. I'd just embarrass myself." He admitted while Yelena had caught up to join him at the front of his door, his fingers now absentmindedly toying with each other to distract him from the truth he tried so hard to not make adherent to himself as much as he already had.

Yelena sighed in turn, "Just you see Bob- tonight. Tonight will be the night." Before turning away, she grabbed both his hands and squeezed in silent reassurance.

"just you see."

Tonight was the night that the team, well more like Val and happy agreements like Alexei had been in tune with, had wanted to do a celebration of sorts for the commemoration of the new title, The New Avengers.

There were frowns and hidden pouts among the crowd when she had first briefed them on the whole idea, something to draw the media and gain a crowd, good social media credibility!

Except Bob's eyes, and mind, and pretty much everything else was faced towards you. At first you had been quite open to the idea but.. as she progressed it became less and less about the team and more and more about the people it drew in with the live attraction as you guys as the zoo animals.

He agreed in retrospect, but having a moment to be able to see you in a dress was a silent prayer answered by the unfortunate Val gods. So the man stayed quiet in the corner and let the rest of the team discuss the precautions and different levels of motion involved for this to work and for them to agree to it.

Hosted on a floor of the avengers tower meant not much travelling nor effort into going somewhere new and strenuous setup, but moreso that their privacy might be even more up for grabs than before.

After the meeting had been adjourned, Bob had followed your path to the couch, making yourself comfortable while putting your head in your hands. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

The boy noticed absolutely everything. The way you fiddled with the hem of your shirt when nervous, retreated to your room when flushed and embarrassed, mouthed the words of others when subtly wanting to join in on a conversation.

You had striked him as interesting in all sorts of ways that didn't end and instead grew as a whole, eventually bundled up to hard-kept and secret feelings that Yelena had eventually seen bubble to the surface.

She had found it in the gentle touches he unconsciously had given to you. His fingertips lingering after graciously taking the remote from your hand to scavenge for a movie on the nights the team rotated staying up and watching dramatic romcoms or stupid action movies while stuffing popcorn down their throat.

The way you leaned into him after a heavier mission, one that had you with more bruises and cuts that left a good mark and took a week to heal, and how he held you with nothing but eyes that looked like you hung the stars for him.

How he had always found you a souvenir while out. A random thrift or second hand store and saw a trinket that reminded him of you- a cat made into a key holder that had stayed on one of your dressers since he had brought it back to its rightful place with you.

She knew Bob was lovesick- but also painfully oblivious. She knew the look on your face that wondered exaclty what his touches meant to the two of you, but kept to an unsteady silence that he took as peace. And although it was, it always made you wonder.

To keep that peace exactly where it was, you'd have rather not done anything to test the boundaries in case you were painfully wrong. Mistakenly ending your friendship with Bob was the last thing you wanted.

As the day had slowly come to night, the bustling had started. People crowded in different places with many different orders as Val stood out among the rest with her colored strip of hair and over the top dress that she had chosen for the night, unafraid of the looks she got from others when people had been told to keep it casual. Mel by her side, cautiously trying to keep up with everything going on around her, demands, yelling, words that blended in with the sudden growing amounts of people.

Bob found himself struggling to find his suit he had misplaced somewhere in the depths of his closet. He knew for a fact it was buried deep, as he thought he'd never have to wear it, as he'd decline the offer to go to these kinds of things- though he knows he wouldn't be able to decline it at all.

As he pulled it out from the jumbled mess of clothes now all over his floor, he jumped when he heard a knock at his door. Double-taking while holding it in his hand deciding whether or not he wanted to show it off yet. Taking too long to decide, he kept it closely in his hand to his torso. Opening the door, he least expected to find you staring back at him.

"y/n! Hey- what uh, you doing here?" He laughed almost awkwardly, caught off guard and scanning your figure, noticing your already done up hair but normal pj's that he'd seen you wear around the compound before.

"sorry I- didn't mean to interrupt you" you started with a sigh, "Lena was supposed to help me get into this dress and now, she won't answer her damn calls and I can't find her anywhere."

As you complained, a glint in his eyes had come forward. Damn Yelena had started setting him up before the party had even begun.

"are you able to lend a bit of your time? If not I totally understand-"

"yes!" Too fast, too swiftly. "I-i mean yes of course, not busy at all no, no."

He gestured for you to come in by opening his door wider, now seeing a dress that was held behind your back the entire time, too focused on looking at how your shirt hung nicely off your shoulder revealing the skin underneath, and the way your hair had been styled to notice

"you alright if I'm changing in here?" At the realization of exactly what you were asking of him finally landing, the tips of his ears had lit up within seconds and he was milliseconds away from completely combusting.

"yeah! Bathroom.." he went to point to it, but instead turned around to find you shimmying out of your pjs down to your bra and underwear, unbothered and relaxed in his presence.

Both honored and scared truly out of his mind, he whipped his head back around so hard he thought he might've given himself whiplash at the absolute vision in front of him. Was he getting a fucking boner?

"Bob- Bob a little help with the zipper please? You called out kindly, jolting him back to reality. With a swat and pull of his lazily sat sweatpants, he walked over mumbling multiple quiet sorry's.

His fingers had gently put their weight in caressing the dress where the zipper had originated, making you bite your lip down both at the fleeting touches and sudden closeness that felt so intimate, but like nothing at the same time. That was a lie. Charged- tension. Passionate. But none of you said a word.

He carried a different type of weight with just how he desired to feel you, god he had ideas in his head he definitely shouldn't share out loud, nor to anyone in that case. Your mind wasn't exactly safe from the thought either, both too caught up in the moment that held so much- yet not enough to confess. Too scared, too anxious, not wanting to ruin something so darn good.

He fantasized- so much so that his lips were dangerously close to pressing themselves to the curve of open skin deliciously sticking out where the zipper hadn't reached to cover you, so tempting that it had put him in a trance. You looked so soft- delectable, so damn beautiful, otherworldly distracting. He wanted to worship you-

"you got it, Bob?" You swore you could feel his breath fanning you.

"y-yeah got it." He replied, trying to act cool while he had zipped it completely like he wasn't imagining taking it off of you.

Returning back to his original spot further away from you, he still hadn't put on his suit. Scurrying to the bathroom with many excuse me's, he had come out almost a different sight.

You held a whine as a long sigh, catching it luckily down deep in your throat before it had a chance to reveal itself. His hair was slicked nicely to where the ends were still visible all the way down to bottom length, protruding to frame his neck, his suit clinging to all the right places as it had made friends with the muscles on his back as he combed the stray hairs out of place, and almost traced his hidden abs for you to view beneath his white, almost translucent teasing undershirt.

Nothing to the damn imagination. You hoped you weren't drooling.

"Do you mind helping me with the buttons?" He'd asked while trying to push one through.

"Of course- I got you."

With a smile that held back many, many thoughts, you had buttoned him up starting from bottom to top, his eyes never once leaving your hands and their magical way of doing him up so nicely.

"here, gimme your tie" you playfully demanded with a gesture of your hand.

He handed it to you without question, having no trouble swinging it around his neck and bringing your hands to drag down to the middle of his chest. God was he holding back his facial expressions like a mad man.

When finished, you patted his chest and had a giddy smile at your work.

"done! Whaddya think of my work handsome?"

Handsome. "Thank you, hahah wow you're quick." coming out rushed and half in the moment, half in his head about what the hell he had just experienced and felt.

"I'll see you at the party?" you questioned as you walked towards his door.

"Yeah!" He exclaimed before giving you a fond nod, finding yourself making your way downstairs.

Bob tied his tie a little tighter and loosened his pants quite a bit.

blaring lights and blasted speakers are the first thing that Bob is made apparent to, even just a hall away from the actual hosting place. Delicately dimmed and fancy tones in every corner line the walls with gold-like ribbons accompanied by wild colors like pinks and blues, and fancy carved features that come with the building. Signs dedicated to pointing out the right of way catch his eye as he continues, nerves only racking higher as he begins to catch the surface of lively and clustered groups dancing or fetching their seat, a combination of romantic and high pace music in the background making for a welcoming atmosphere, the mood airy with the littlest hints of formal to attract the audience just right.

Bob immediately felt out of place. Singled out, heavy breathing and holding his hands tightly together as he continued through the doors to see where a bar was and a tiny music station that didn't make much of a difference as everybody knew they wouldn't be able to actually use it. Tables lined the sides of the dance floor prominently in the middle, and an actual kitchen sat off to the side of the huge room for access to normal drinks and snacks that they might've had to keep frozen until guests arrived.

His first instict was to look for the bright blonde of Yelena's hair, but now that seemed the hardest task with multicolored lights that never rested, instead took their time traveling around the event and lighting every area once inawhile with rotating colors. Distracted and now a little dizzy, he found himself a little lost- overwhelmed and really regretting the non-negotiable invitation.

Turning himself right, then left, he was desperately trying to find something, someone to be able to ground him- lead him through this mess of random social interaction that he did not want to participate in, in the least.

Letting himself get deeper into the masses of bodies, he had found himself closer to the dance floor and less in the big handlers of conversation and questions he always muttered an answer to, both out of uncertainty and anxiety. Mingling hands and grouped whispers along with stares of women who giggled while staring lustful daggers into his eyes was not the intimidating way he wanted to go out right now.

Many excuses me's later, he had finally caught a lead on Alexei's booming laugh that somehow had the power to echo just a bit off of the wide intricate walls that boxed him in with his now sweaty and nervous demeanor, getting up close enough to finally spot the blonde he'd been trying to navigate the entire time he'd been here.

"Yelena!" He tried, but ultimately came closer to the group that consisted of Yelena dancing with Ava, John off talking to a woman in a nice velvet sequined dress that showed a high slit of the leg, and a dangling shiny gold necklace that definitely spoke money in all sorts of ways he hadn't known. Trying to draw his eyes anywhere but there, he found you as the woman in hand with Alexei, laughing while nursing a fancy cup of who-knows-what in your hand.

God- Bob had started to cling to the sides of his suit at the sight of you, so happy and enjoying a moment, your face being embraced by one of the multicolored lights that framed you so perfectly, he had seen every expression of a laugh grace your face as your eyes had squeezed shut, presumably laughing hard at one of Alexei's jokes.

Blown away? Obsessed? Down bad? All those words described the look on Bob's face, stunned in place by your figure, and that damn dress that flowed off you beautifully- causing him whiplash of guilt and shame as he hadn't even heard Yelena approach him.

"Go" Bob physically jolted back at her sudden voice in his ear, turning to look at her now directly beside him.

"W-what?"

As she continued, you turned and your eyes met his from across the floor. "Go ask her to dance. Now, Bob."

"I- im gonna get a drink, now..kitchen" he stuttered out, scrambling the crowd he worked so hard to find you in yet ending up in the empty, not so bare kitchen. He checked the fridge for anything- food, maybe a non-alcoholic drink to stable him for now.

Finding fruit punch pre-made, he took it out, placing it on the counter before pouring himself a glass and putting it back in place. He tipped his head back, hitting the higher cabinet behind him while closing his eyes and taking deep breaths recounting what he had just been through. He was, frankly, a mess.

"You in here?" a voice appeared, causing him to come back from his silence to lock eyes once again with you.

A small, almost knowing smile present on your lips- in fact you did know exactly why he came to the quietest place he could find, away from all the music, dancing and people.

"Needed quiet?" you questioned anyways, to make sure.

nodding quietly, "Y-yeah."

You leaned on the counter beside him, putting your glass down with a clack and sighing out dramatically.

"Me too.. just- too much."

His lips quirked up at your confession as well, now staring at you. Your hair had dropped in front of your face while huffing, and before he had grasped what he was doing, Bob had tucked the straying piece of hair back to its place behind your ear.

Looking at his face above you, you slowly scanned his eyes, pupils dancing wildly and heart starting to race. And slowly- slowly, Bob had placed his hand on your cheek, leaned in, and kissed you.

Lightly, like you'd regret ever putting your lips to his, he had captured your breath. Returning his touch, you cupped his hand and deepened it, making his eyes widen and a groan slip from his throat from the sudden surge of you. Your taste, the softness of your lips against his, fuck the warmth of your tongue.

You tilted your head the slightest for him to slip in just a little deeper, finding your natural rhythm in it all as you felt his tongue explore the inside of your mouth like he yearned to remember every spot of it.

Both pulling back for a breath, yet still connected by a string of saliva, you both giggled with both adrenaline and disbelief.

"you, uh- taste just like candy-no.. fruity. Bob. were you drinking fruit punch?" he chuckled quietly,

"Maybe"

"at least invite me next time" you grinned cheekily

"fuck wouldnt dream of not.. god- was it-"

"It was amazing, Bob"

"good!- good. thank god." he muttered, before you intertwined your fingers with his, guiding him to the doorway of the kitchen.

"Would you-" you started, but not wanting to lose another moment between the two of you, he had suddenly brought your knuckles up to his mouth, pressing a kiss on each one before asking himself

"Ma'am, would you honor me with a dance on this fine night?" a little teasing and a hundred percent fueled by pure desire and selfishness, he had a playful smile etched on his face matching yours, before you walked up to him and grabbed his cheeks more harshly- in a good way- he would've never expected from you.

Pressing a deep peck to his lips, "Shut up and dance with me, Bob." deathly close to his ear as your hand splayed itself on his chest, a shiver running through him at the contact and your confident words directed to him, and only him.

Dragged to the dance floor, he took your lead, swaying and twirling you as you hummed and swung him back in return wildly. Slow music had come on suddenly, and his hands had found gentlemanly purpose on your waist, holding you close and protective, yet his heart was thumping loud.

"Now don't you dare look back" you commented as you slid him a sly grin, but noticed the way his eyes traveled across the room for ones staring back at him.

Cupping his cheek, he turned swiftly back to your attention, reassuring him, "just keep your eyes on me."

He nodded back, gently rocking with both your rhythm and the song that lulled him to proper form. Seeing him become shy all of a sudden, you asked,

"are you holding something back from me, Bob?" Teasingly.

"After this- can I uh.. take you on a date? Proper one at that, not this.. y'know" music attempting to drown him out, but the only thing you were focused on was him, and the way his hands ran up and down your sides, with a squeeze bordering on protectiveness and a charming claim that said you're mine.

"Of course Bob, always."

"and forever?" He added, unsure.

"always, forever, and so on."

He smiled, boyish and largely at that and replied,

"you're my destiny"

[tywrites]

heavy | mateo manta

pairing: mateo manta x gn!reader

word count: 1,360 (not proof-read)

warnings: reader is implied to have depression

a/n: okay so this is really bad since i haven't written in quite a long time but!! i love him and i Needed to write something abt him. i desperately need more mateo fics lmao. hope you enjoy <33

-----

You rolled over in your bed, the usually comforting plush of your mattress feeling awfully cold today. You sighed, closing your eyes and quietly hoping to just fall back to sleep. Things had been… difficult recently. Losing your job had definitely taken its toll on you – on your mental health in particular. Even when working from home, you still had to make the time to leave every so often and interact with the real world. But with everything that had happened recently with the dateviators, you hadn’t been able to leave at all.

Of course, you still had the objects. And they were great company! Most of them anyway. But it didn’t stop you from feeling a bit… alone sometimes. You sighed softly, finally accepting the fact that sleep wasn’t coming. You looked over to your end table at the dateviators. You had a lot to do. It was really overwhelming, honestly. You hadn’t even met all of the objects in the house yet, let alone made any progress towards realising any. You had made a lot of close friends through them though. And even one very special, different relationship…

Even just thinking of Mateo brought a slight smile to your face, cheering up your bleak mood ever so slightly. If you’d told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d soon be dating your blanket… well, considering your track record with love, it wouldn’t be all that surprising.

You bit your lip, reaching over to the dateviators. You popped them on, blinking at the warm, pink hue that enveloped your vision. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to this. In a second, Betty had materialised in front of you, perched on the edge of the bed – or uh, on the edge of herself. She gave you a soft smile.

“How’re you feeling today, gorgeous?”

You made a face. “Well for starters, I don’t feel very gorgeous,” you reply groggily, sitting up as you wiped a hand over your tired face.

She chuckled. “Sweetie, you’re always gorgeous to me. But what’s got you so down? You barely slept last night, or the night before… should I be offended?” She was clearly joking, but there was a definite tone of concern in her voice.

“Nah, it’s not you, it’s me,” you admit, looking down at the sheets. “I just… I don’t know. I feel so… heavy? I’m so tired, all the time. Which makes no sense, let’s be real, I’m doing nothing all day but..” You trail off, unsure of how to word it. “I just can’t sleep though. I can’t relax. I feel so tense all the time and I don’t see a way out of it. Easier to just lay in bed, I guess,”

She looks at you, worry in her eyes. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. You try your best to force a smile.

“Not really. I think it’s just… something I have to deal with on my own,”

She frowned. “Honey, I don’t think-”

“I’ll see you tonight, Betty. Thanks for the talk,” you said quickly, standing up and heading to the bathroom, leaving Betty sitting on the bed, her face twisted in concern.

-------------

You’d spent most of the day dodging the other objects. Mateo especially. You just couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. You left the dateviators on the table next to you, doom scrolling on your phone until the socially acceptable time to hit the hay. You were planning to go straight to bed, not call on anyone with the dateviators. The idea of bothering any of them, of forcing them to sit and listen to your silly problems was excruciating. But as you settled down into bed, trying in vain to close your eyes and let sleep come for you, there was only one thing on your mind.

You knew how upset Mateo would be if he knew you were avoiding him, especially if he knew it was because you weren’t feeling the greatest. Helping others is what drove him, it was the one thing he took pride in the most. He’d never let you wallow in your own self pity. You glanced at the glasses on your bedside table and sighed in defeat. You slid them on slowly.

You hadn’t even had them on for a few seconds before Mateo was materialising. You didn’t expect him to be right here, waiting for you. He was usually in the living room, caring for the inanimals. That man never took a break. When you saw the worried expression on his sweet face, you wanted to break down there and then.

“Ah mi vida, finally!” He said, sitting down onto the edge of the bed. “I’ve been waiting for you all day,”

You flushed in embarrassment. So he’d been watching your pathetic display of self-loathing, huh? “Sorry, Mateo… I’ve just been, um, tired,” you said, avoiding his eyes. If there was anything in this world that could make you immediately spill all your darkest secrets, it was Mateo’s big, brown eyes.

“I’ve noticed… my love, I’m worried about you. Betty came to me earlier and told me you haven’t been sleeping. Is that true?” He asked tactfully.

“Betty said that?” Betrayal, you thought.

“She was worried. Honestly, a lot of us have been worried. You haven’t been acting like yourself for a while now. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, you know you just have to ask, right? I would do anything for you,” he said, a small blush rising to his cheeks. “I mean, I’d hope you’d know that…”

You finally look at him, truly seeing the concern on his features. His bedhead was especially messy today, as though he’d been running his hand through it every five seconds. His usual easy smile was replaced with a small frown and you realised something. In that moment, you would do anything to see that smile again. As you were preoccupied with gazing into his eyes, Mateo took this opportunity to place his hand over yours. His touch was feather soft as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. You could almost feel your anxiety melting away.

You finally spoke.

“Mateo?”

“Yes, amor?”

“Could… could we cuddle?”

You ignore the burning in your cheeks and make your request, looking down at his hand still on yours. You focused on his touch. His touch seemed to make many things a whole lot easier.

At your words, a huge grin took over Mateo’s face. “You never even have to ask,” he said, bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a soft kiss onto the back of it.

You manoeuvred yourself so there would be room for Mateo beside you, turning so your back was towards him. He wasted no time in enveloping you in his arms, pulling you into the comforting warmth of his chest. His face snuggled into the crook of your neck and he took a deep breath in.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. The inanimals have missed you too…”

An arrow of guilt hit you right in the heart.

“I’m really sorry, ‘Teo… I-”

“You have no reason to be sorry, amor. Look, I can tell you’re struggling right now. And there’s nothing wrong with that at all, you have nothing to be ashamed about. But you have people around you that can help share your load, okay? You taught me that when we first met. When you bottle it all inside, it’s just too heavy for one person to handle. I want to help you. Please let me,”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You sniffled, wiping them away as quick as you could but they just kept coming. Mateo brought up the sleeve of his plush duvet jacket, wiping away the tears as they trickled down your face. You both said nothing. You laid there, wrapped up in Mateo’s arms, feeling more safe and secure than you had in a very long time. If Mateo was there to help you hold it, maybe things could be a lot lighter from now on.

[mona-risms]

Okay hear me out. Polytrix x reader with reader being their coreographer but when they train they have a vibrator that's just slowly buzzes all troughout and if they mess up a move reader would just turn it off but if they manage to get to the end without mistakes reader would turn it to the max and make them cum until their legs shake, but afterwards they still have to do more practice and in the end they're just edged beyond believe and desperately begging reader to just mess them up in frint of the big wall mirror <33

Also may i be 🎨 anon 🫶

First of all, yes you can!! Welcome 🎨 :3c. Second of all, no fuckin wonder Rumi's muscle memory kicked in when it did during Takedown LMAOOOOO it's a fucking Pavlovian reflex by that point 😭

They SWEAR to you that it's completely beneficial. In fact, they say it's an incentive!! To do better!!!! Bc it's very fun and very effective!!!!!!! No it's not unprofessional (it is technically) and it's not a distraction (it definitely is), but honestly when you get results like how sharp they are with choreo? Literally why would you ever debate otherwise??? Clearly it's working soooooo..... It's most definitely funny as fuck when they see reviews and stuff ab how their choreo's so sharp and smooth and whatever, and maybe they even get asked ab it, to which they just. Thank you for your service 😜 and no one will know the wiser

They all just have different colour-coded vibrators inside them ("fun-coloured and fun-sized", thanks to Zoey LMAO), all at different settings that'd count as their individual 'minimum' aka what they can definitely feel and get absolutely dripping wet and sexually frustrated over but nowhere near enough to push them off the edge. Imagine even slowly turning up the intensity as the three of them progress through the choreo you taught them, whether it be via turning it up based on the part's difficulty level or inching it closer and closer up the closer the song gets to the end. You even get them to sing while doing the choreo too, bc how could they EVER think of being the top-charting idols if they can't even sing through a number and perform perfectly while they have distractions threatening to throw their concentration and mobility coordination out the window? Honestly, you're being a good choreographer by helping them here!!!!

By the end of it their panties are absolutely soaked through from the edging and the overstim and constant switch and everything and NONE of YOUR touches, and unless they've done a Particularly shit job, it always ends with you making sure that the trio gets a turn in being eaten out and fucked through; they're begging you to give them a reward, and honestly why wouldn't you, when they've done and will do their very best?

There's a reason why their dance studio's soundproofed and always locked whenever you lot are using it 😁

[mortal-ethos]

The first time I started figuring out my gender, I felt very fluid, but due to the rise in transmed ideology and being a kid in an oppressive household and society, I tried so hard to be a man. I thought I had to be a man, and I felt like shit because I constantly was questioning myself, constantly insecure, I did everything I was "supposed" to do and be as a "man" both by the standards I grew up with, and the modern standards I had begun to see and still continue to see amongst "progressive" circles (which was doing everything by myself and taking abuse from my partners because the idea of men standing up for themselves or taking a single second to themselves is pushed as abuse and laziness, so I just. Did everything. And took all of it).

I was the handy man, I Mended the garments, I cooked every meal, I cleaned the house and did the dishes, I was the only one working, I put aside any issues or emotions I had for every person/partner, I was constantly told anytime I showed emotion that I was scary or that I was wrong, that I wasn't allowed to feel the way I felt, that I made problems all the time out of nothing, so I stopped and when I would keep my emotions down during conversations I was told I wasn't talking like a real person, any time I tried to talk about mental health issues I was made fun of so I stopped, any time I had a need I was degraded for wanting something so I stopped expressing a desire for closeness and emotional connection while being told that I needed to talk about my problems more even though they were constantly ignored, I was my partners' wallet, I couldn't have my own interests and always had to engage others with theirs while mine were judged and belittled, not even getting into how much pressure there was on me to "look" like a man. I did fucking everything I could until I broke.

I used to think if I just was a Good Man, if I just did everything asked of me, everything I was told, if I did everything right, if I was only ever gentle and kind and vulnerable, I would be happy. The pain would go away, I could be myself, and I could make everyone else happy. I could show what a Good Man was, I could be better. And I tried so hard. But I broke. I wasn't a good man. I couldn't do it. I broke down wondering what was wrong with me. Why was it no matter what I did, it wasn't enough. I would never be gentle enough, kind enough, skilled enough, strong enough, communicative enough, stoic enough, happy enough, rich enough, I would never be enough. So I gave up and I asked myself, who was I trying to be enough for? For people that don't know me? For people that don't care about me? For people that would never understand me anyway? Why was I never happy, even when I did everything asked of me... Why was no one ever happy with me?

Why was I STILL NOT MAN ENOUGH.

So I said fuck it. Who am I being a man for. My gender shouldn't feel like a fault in my personhood. And I let myself sit with it for a while. I asked myself, why do I still connect with my womanhood, with the lesbian community, with girlhood, why is this feminine rage still inside me intricately entwined with my masculine transness? Why, when I talk about women's issues, why do I have to choke down saying "we" and "us?" Why, when I feel like a man, is it strongest when I'm helping the ones that I love? What about those days I feel like neither, the days I feel more connected to the moss beneath my feet, to the shadows of tree branches, to the smell of rain, to the sound of boots on pavement, to the metallic taste of blood, to the ones that wear masks? What about those days I feel like I don't want to decide, I don't want to settle on one thing, where I feel like the planets in orbit, all circling each other simultaneously, each rotating themselves? The days where I see myself on this earth as intimately woven into the fabric of existence, when I experience creation and make myself into a new person for that moment, a new color unseen, a new emotion unfelt, a new breath never shared?

I'm not a man, or not just a man. I'm not just a woman, I'm not just non-binary. I tried fitting my experiences, my existences, into one singular label. Into the label that was supposed to be right, the one that was easy, the one everyone else is. I felt like my gender queer experiences were a gender failing, a pathetic flailing attempt at transness. I wasn't man enough, but I had to be because... I thought that was my only option.

Anyone thinking being non-binary, being gender fluid, being agender, bigender, gender queer, is all just part of the process of eventually settling into a binary identity is so, so wrong. I am not lost or confused. I didn't lose myself, my transness, my queerness, in the fluidity. I found my way back home.

when nonbinary people discover they are actually transgender binary, i wish them all the best, but i cannot STAND when they dismiss their previous identity as illegitimate. sure, maybe it wasnt you, but nonbinary is still real and valid.

i remember when a nonbinary content creator i really resonated with came out as a trans man instead, he started saying that nonbinary is "only a stepping stone to being the opposite binary!!" and that its "just a pipeline effect and nothing solid :)" i had recently separated from my long term partner due to identity related reasons and i was feeling insecure, finding community online. i questioned myself for months then, forcing the idea of being binary onto myself in what was admittedly an ocd spiral. its not his fault but i feel if you make queer content you kinda owe it to your audience to not spread false and harmful narratives about it

this is exorsexism.

i've seen it time and time again that previously-nonbinary content creators come out as binary trans and suddenly become really exorsexist in their stance, behaviour, language. this stuff never hurts their following though and nonbinary people who point this out usually end up being accused of transmisia and "being too sensitive". meanwhile people act like our genders are time bombs.

[talenlee]

Game Pile: Why Do Trans Women Love New Vegas (Video)

Script and thumbnail below the fold!

This script is based on this original article.

Hello everyone, my name’s TalenLee, also known as the Wrath in Pride Month, and this is a video article that seeks to answer the question ‘Why do Trans Women love Fallout New Vegas so much?’ To accompany this I’m presenting a single segment speedrun of Fallout New Vegas All Sleeping Partners % as run by Tomatoanus, or as TiredTransbian called it, World’s Fastest Bisexual Trans Woman Goes on a Bender Around the Mojave. Tomatoanus did make the video but unlike in his videos, I didn’t get him to help me explain things and you really shouldn’t go bothering him to justify his relationship to things I say here just because he gave me permission to use his video. He is as best I know, very nice and doesn’t need any further guff. If you are going to go check out TomatoAnus’ work based on this video all I ask is that you

do

not

embarrass me.

I’m providing a specific Content Warning here for drugs and violence. Not that anyone clicking on a video about Fallout New Vegas would be surprised by those things. It’s just nice to do.

This is a video version of an article I wrote a bit over a year ago and if you’ve read that article you already know the thrust of what I’m going to say, but because this is going up on Youtube, I want to pre-emptively put some stuff out there that will get the snowflake crowd to petulantly comment and then piss off. Rent-lowering gunshots, as we say on Tumblr. Anyway, trans women are women and trans men are men, at least inasmuch as they want to be, and while I’m at it, all the popes are bad, even Big Poppa Pizza Pope you got now. This isn’t one of my hand-holding babymode conversations about how trans identities work, written as if I’m explaining a baseline gender studies concept to someone to afraid to look it up and do readings, this is about an extremely in-group cultural signifier. A meme. Specifically, the meme that trans women

love

Fallout New Vegas, explained in <>.

Released in 2010, Fallout New Vegas is a classic of the first-person-shooter role-playing-game genre or FPSRPG, which sounds like a file format your phone uses to save links, which sought to bring Fallout 1 and 2’s semi-open choice-driven narrative structure, into the first-person floaty Skyrim-with-guns combat in a ‘second parse’ at the – let’s politely call it – rough execution of Fallout 3. In this game you play a character called The Courier starting at the point in their story where Matthew Perry shows he won’t be there for you, then shoots you in the head, giving you an opportunity to discover and then intervene in the existing events of history with an all new, all exciting direction.

The story is a sort of noir cowboy steampunk fantasy – there’s the trappings of modern technology and post-apocalyptica, but the world that was and its infrastructure isn’t really important as much as the way it just sweeps aside a options for progress. Technology is chunky and heavy and there’s a durability to everything, where things break, but they can always be fed more technology to make them un-break. Everything has an independence to it, a scrounging, foraging, make-it-work, it’ll-do-for-now technologism all typified with a gun at your hip and your duster fluttering in the hot wind.

When it isn’t crashing.

The game has a lot of positive sentiment around it, seemingly beloved by fans and lauded by youtubers looking for long-form stuff ever since renowned solver of plagiarism problems Harris Barris Garrus dropped ‘Fallout 3 Is Garbage, And Here’s Why,’ nine years ago.

Thing is, if you’re not in the trans community, or at least not living next to it because they have all the good electronic music, you might not know that Fallout New Vegas is notorious for being a game beloved by trans women. This renown is a meme unto itself, a joke about being into Fallout New Vegas being a gateway to the experience of being a trans woman.

Now, I position myself as both an investigator of games, and I also serve what I think is a valuable purpose which is being up to several trans people’s token cis friend. This lets me return from the hidden city then explain their mystic secrets to the normies, in the hopes that you won’t ask them annoying questions.I thought, equipped with this understanding, I could, this Pride Month, explain why all trans women love Fallout New Vegas:

They don’t, largely.

Oh, sure, there are trans women who are fans of Fallout New Vegas. A bunch of them! And they tend to describe ideas in Fallout New Vegas that excite them, it tends to be things like:

I get to shoot Matthew Perry in the face.

The story is all constructed such that everyone’s story is somehow ensnared with the dam.

There is a meaningful dialectic between Caesar’s Legion and his own ideology.

You can do drugs and shoot baddies.

Cazadors are amazing.

The courier has a backstory, has a meaningful life and narrative that you have to reconstruct through play.

Cazadors suck.

The final building is exciting and beautiful and engaging.

Spurs go Jingle Jingle

The idea that the Las Vegas strip is the kind of thing that survives our worst and is darkly funny and what we deserve.

There’s an anti-nuclear thread running throughout the whole story.

There’s more. When I compose a list of this kind of thing reflecting on feedback, I’m typically trying to collapse together similar responses, and there really isn’t a lot of commonality between these unless you start to get really broad. And when you get that broad, what it tends to come down to is:

It’s an enjoyable game and I find it engaging.

What’s more there’s some feedback I got that doesn’t match the feedback given. Now, I did ask explicitly only to trans readers to respond to this question, so I have assumed that everyone who responded did, but normally, when I ask a question like ‘what’s something about this game that excites you’ and you find a way to structure your answer to be a dunk on the question or complaining about something unrelated, I think of that as not answering the question and not being helpful.

But still, in the sense of completeness we also got:

The game is buggy and I don’t like it

The game didn’t leave an impression on me

I’ve never played the game

And okay, was this what you were expecting? These are all pretty distinct opinions, some fine enough to be about individual mobs in the game, some are about the story structure, some are about vibes of the space, and some are uuuh just about the sheer enjoyment you can get out of shooting racists while high off your face.

Every explanation I’ve heard from trans people about why they personally like Fallout New Vegas has been specifically about liking the game as a game. Not as a piece of Trans Media, something in the canon from some sort of Trans Authority. It’s not even a game with a blatant expression of Trans Rights – you can turn the lens of this game pretty easily to see it making fun of ‘man in a dress’ narratives, if you want. You can play the whole game and never find the character I’m referencing here, which means it’s obviously way less prominent than Cazadores or the Dam or Nuclear Bombs.

This is the middle of the video, and a natural break between its two major thesese, so, in honour of the runner TomatoAnus here, I’d like to say, as he would, that I hope you’re doing well. If you’re not, then please remember, as always, that there is a tomorrow and that no feeling is final.

No matter what’s going on, it cannot take that away from you. How you’re feeling does not define you, and I do know that it feels like what’s going on is all there will ever be. But that isn’t the case. It happens little by little, so small you likely won’t notice day-to-day, but someday in the future you’ll be able to look back and see how far you’ve come.

You’ll see that where you’re at now, well, it’s just that. Where you are, rather than who you are. There is so much more to you than how you’re feeling, and you’re so much stronger than you realize.

Please keep that in mind.

Back to the point about the idea of Fallout New Vegas as a game that has a particular following amongst trans women. See, I think the idea that trans women love Fallout New Vegas is a great opportunity to explain what we call a kind of floating signifier.

A floating signifier is a term for ‘a reference without a referent.’ That is, it’s a term that doesn’t have a specific, actual thing it’s referring to. The easiest example I can point to is money. While we’re probably all familiar with money, there’s nothing that money represents that actually exists. Bills and coins and bank balances all reference money, but those aren’t money; money is a system, a shared fiction that we all accept exists. If everyone tomorrow decided to not partake in the shared, communal idea of money, then nothing disappears – there’s no Money Creature that starves because it’s not getting any fairy dust or belief or something.

That’s not to say a floating signifier is a meaningless term. It’s more like an empty box that we primarily understand because of the things we have put into that box. Even if that box is full of things that doesn’t mean the box has any inherent qualities of its own. When we talk about an elephant for example, elephants are things that exist outside of our human heads, so we can go check and see if an elephant is something. On the other hand, there are a host of very normal human social experiences that we need to refer to for one another, but which have no basis outside of the shared fictional space of Humans Talk About This Thing.

(Like Gender, for example.)

Lots of people like Fallout New Vegas. It’s not a secret mysterious cult hit. It doesn’t need special trans significance to be a beloved game in the trans community. Coming out in the right chunk of time for a community with common interests means that of course a bunch of them would relate to it. Since the game is good, and people like to talk about this game they enjoy, and the game has modding, and the game has a shared common conversation (a discourse), that means you’re inevitably going to get The Trans People Who Like Fallout New Vegas, who talk to one another. They notice it’s a thing, they notice one another, they share common space, and in so doing, a meme forms. You might as well point out the common thread of trans women using Windows 7, because in the same general band of time they probably did.

(Not all trans women run Linux boxes.)

(I mean, of the four I immediately thought of in my friend space, they do. But not all of them.)

The meme that trans women love Fallout New Vegas is based on the meme that trans women love Fallout New Vegas. Stating the meme, sharing the meme, is not about a scientific fact, but rather it’s a matter of representing that you are aware of that meme, just like if someone’s coming up Milhouse. It’s a cultural marker, something that shows that you are in on this specific joke.

Now, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but memes are not particularly complicated things to understand – as a discipline, that is. They’re sticky, which isn’t the same thing as clever. Sometimes people think a meme is like a punchline or an image, but really, what a meme is, is a unit of communication. A meme transmits meaning, and that meaning needs to be shareable. You might already be familiar with some memes like this, such as, y’know, words. The purpose of memes is not to be explanatory in and of themselves, but to be useful for explanation. The fancy term we use for this, in describing a network of memes with related meanings that indicate a communal space, a sort of ‘meme dialect’ that a community holds to, is the word memeplex. A memeplex can be seen as a specific set of memes you get that indicate a shared space of meaning, in almost any fandom.

(In cult studies, they call it ‘distinguishable vernacular!’)

There is another thing here.

It’s what I think of as permissive diagnostics.

The nature of being trans is often an end point of a series of conversations with the self and with others that are entirely about undoing a series of mental hurdles that are meant to stop trans people from considering themselves trans. Some folks have rock-solid ironclad long-term considerations of their gender in one way, but for some folk it’s a lot more complicated.

Maybe you think ‘I would be a trans woman, but’ or ‘I mean, if I was a trans woman I’d be unhappy because I wouldn’t be attractive’ or ‘man, I’m jealous of trans women getting to solve something so simple about themselves,’ and those thoughts are often part of this same trapping matrix of ideas. These are things that trans folk often wind up talking about, after the fact, looking back on themselves later and going, ‘wow, it was really obvious and I didn’t notice, huh?‘

And look.

Maybe there’s no special reason trans women love Fallout New Vegas, but maybe you love Fallout New Vegas because you’re a trans women. And if that sounds like incoherent nonsense to you, then don’t worry about it.

It’s not a message for or about you.

Maybe next time I’ll do a long form video on how Doom Eternal explains the way that so many trans dudes own a short-sleeved collared blue shirt with a repeating pattern of small white dots on it.

If you made it to the end of this video, thank you so much and also thank you especially to TomatoAnus who gave me permission to use this footage without knowing if I’d do a good job of this video or not. I’ve been a fan of his channel for years and even copying his scripts like this as a bit is a reminder of how thoughtfully put together his work is and the level of attention to detail he takes in delivering excellent explainers.

If Fallout New Vegas speedruns interest you at all, or speedrun explainers do, you should check out his channel, and if being trans is a thing that interests you, you should check out your local informed consent clinic, and seek out your nearby queer community because we all need to stand together these days.

And a huge thank you to my Patrons for helping make this video possible. My Patrons don’t get anything at all out of being my Patrons which is why it’s so amazing to me that they bother to spend any money to encourage me to keep doing the things I do on the internet to give them things to read and watch in the moments before the workday really kicks in and nobody notices them scrolling on their phone having a coffee.

I know that things are super uncertain right now though, so please don’t feel compelled to support.

It’s greatly appreciated but not at all necessary.

And that’s what makes you all so so special.

Thank you all, truly.

That’s all for this video though.

This was a video article about Trans Women and Fallout New Vegas and you learned the word memeplex and the term floating signifier, all told in the style of Tomatoanus. I’ve been Talen Lee, and I hope you have an above average day.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Was reading a SuperBat Fake Daiting Fic that really scratched an itch in my brain and now I can’t stop thinking about a Rhys x Reader AU where they’re both trying to avoid the arranged marriages their high lord father’s are putting on them and agree to fake date but slowly fall in love over time 🤤

Like imagine:

-Rhys sends big bouquets of night blooming flowers to Reader’s Court Estate at least twice a week. They’re always lavish and over the top and the whole estate starts smelling like jasmine. The servants start whispering in the halls about how much the Heir to the Night Court must care for them to spend so much money on flowers every week.

-They go to plays and musicals in both their Courts, waiting until they see a crowd to hold hands. Making sure people “catch” them together. Feigning kisses on the cheek and inside jokes whispered conspiratorially in the ear. Reader always laughs a little harder than necessary at his flirtation, a blush working it’s way up their cheeks, looking away before they can see the adoring look Rhys is obliviously giving them

-Their conversations are either tense and businesslike, setting down a well crafted plan to follow—“Make sure people see us holding hands.” “You should put your arm around my waist more, people are starting to ask if you don’t like to touch me.” “We should kiss after this date. Make sure people know this is progressing.”—or flirtatious and fake, a mask for all the Courts to see. Until an event at the Court of Nightmares turns into intimate conversations about the weight of their parents’ expectations.

-Business becomes routine. It becomes weird to not be out in public with each other. Business becomes oh no I care about them.

-But they can’t tell each other that. This is business, after all, it’s not supposed to be personal. The feel of his lips isn’t supposed to keep them up at night.

-Business becomes agony because everything they’ve ever wanted is literally right here in reach and for a few minutes each day they can pretend that it’s their’s even though it never really was.

-And oops oh no they actually kissed for real and maybe these very real feelings aren’t so one sided after all and they end up together for real

Idk I have some thoughts

[holding-on-to-josh]

i need to rant about how much i love snap back. this song is an absolute masterpiece in terms of sound, lyrics, harmonies, and meaning. me and my close friend were talking about how amazing this song was yesterday. love you avery

- it has this distinct summer sound that sounds nostalgic to me and it just feels like i’m driving toward the sunset and it gives me a feeling like everything’s gonna be okay, despite the song itself

THIS PART is so deep. it’s like you’re still running from the past, but more so you’re still THINKING about the past which is keeping you from looking into the future and seeing what’s right in front of you. this i feel is something anybody can relate to because we look back a lot on life and try to use it to improve.

This idea of refusing help and possibly pushing away people you love because of how closed off or isolated you may feel. i know for a fact that when i’m going through something or having a rough day i lash out at anyone who tries to talk to me or help, and this lyric is absolutely amazing at describing this feeling of biting the hand that helps you, then giving it stitches.

first of all, the backslide reference! these two songs feel like siblings to me. but about the lyrics, the song is talking about a backslide, a relapse, a return to something. “all of that progress lost today” “it’s a backslide”. feeling like all that work, all that progress is worth nothing because you ended up back at square one. it’s as if you were climbing a slide only to slip back down.

This is not so much about lyrics but more so about structure and sound, BECAUSE THE HARMONIES?? god when i heard those harmonies for the first time on this song i ugly sobbed for a good fifteen minutes because holy crap it sounds amazing. it feels like several different people are telling you it’s all gone, and that’s what anxiety and insecurity feels like to me, like a bunch of tiny voices telling you stuff

don’t get me STARTED on this lyric because if you’re introspective like me and you’re always trying to look into how you feel and why you feel like this, this is insanely relatable. sometimes i’m able to come up with a bunch of reasons that make sense on why i’m feeling a certain way, which can lead to me being able to feel better or deal with it better, but there are also times where i run out of excuses as to why i am this way, why i feel this way. but i just think as humans we won’t always have the answers, and that’s okay

I really like this part because he’s USING THE FALSETTOS TO COMMUNICATE TWO VOICES. he’s talking to the backslide/relapse as if it’s a person (kind of like how nico/blurryface is a person that resembles tyler’s insecurities) and it’s genius. he’s saying “welcome back to the show”, welcome BACK being that this is not a one time occurrence, but something that keeps returning, even if it’s not wanted.

the way i see it, the normal voice is his more rationale than just his insecurities, and this is shown through him saying he better move to a fresher approach, showing that he has a desire to change things up to see if it makes him feel different. and the new adaptation, in my opinion, i see it as him realizing that it may not ever go away fully, but he can adapt because humans adapt.

Let’s not forget this gem. absolute genius at lyrics tyler joseph is, and this line is evil because it cuts so deep. The fact that he’s referring to himself as having elasticity, i see it as him saying he’s changed a lot, or he’s willing to change if it means finding his way back. the feeling of knowing you’ve gotten off track and wanting to get back to where you were before, but not knowing how, so all you can do is pray that you’ll somehow get back there, to how things were before. this further contributes to the backslide theme of the song.

That’s all i have to say for now, just wanted to get that out there because i cannot listen to this song without sobbing my lungs out. 😵‍💫

[leebrontide]

Hello!

I'm Lee (any pronouns), a middle aged queer writer from the midwest of the US. It's been a bit, so I'm doing another writeblr intro, to find more potential writeblr folks to chat with!

What I write:

- Mostly scifi! I have a bit of fantasy brewing in a collab project, but mostly, scifi.

- Queer stuff. Lots of different types of queerness.

- Community. Both in the group-hugs-and-support variety and the extreme-mess/everybodies-traumas-keep-smashing-into-each-other variety. I have training as a family therapist and am endlessly fascinated by interpersonal dynamics. This is the meat of my work.

- Grounded worldbuilding. My main project right now is near future scifi that diverges from our timeline around 2001. I'm enjoying the hell out of playing the US I know with some very key tweaks that changed society. I know a lot about medical systems, criminal justice systems, and legal systems and like using fantasy and scifi elements to show them as I know them. But like, in a way that should appeal to people who give 0 shits about US institutions.

- Disability stuff. Not that after-school-special shit. I am just tired of characters being generic pretty dolls whose physical attributes don't impact how they move through the world. That means not only writing a variety of different disabilities, but also different bodies. My characters aren't "inspiration porn" or just waiting around for less disabled characters to come save them. They are messy, with a wide array of relationships to their limitations and the things they use to cope with those limitations.

- YA into new adult. Not exclusively, but mostly. I really like taking characters from YA into early adulthood. Not just a standard coming-of-age arc, but the actually moving from a self-concept of a dependent teen into someone with legal responsibility for themselves, jobs, college, etc. Especially when combined with all of the above. I love a nice long character arc with lots of sub-arcs along the way.

What I have out, now.

- I have two books out so far, Secondhand Origin Stories and Names in Their Blood. I'm working on book 3 in that planned 5 book series now, which is currently titled Brittle Idols.

- I have a free monthly newsletter called Shed Letters where I talk about psychology, tech, queerness, storytelling, and the creative process, plus whatever random topic I've been researching for my books recently. Also contains pictures of my three very photogenic cats.

- Newsletter subscribers also have access to a novella I wrote that goes between Secondhand Origin Stories and Names in Their Blood, that's about an fictional AI (the only kind I like) trying to decide on a body for themself.

- I also draw and animate, with my first and still in-progress animation project being a "trailer" for Secondhand Origin Stories.

What I'm looking for

- writeblrs - especially writeblrs that aren't JUST writeblrs. I want to feel like I'm meeting people, at least in some manner, rather than just hearing about a product in process. That doesn't have to mean deep confessions or private information, but honestly I'm not likely to remember you for your writing project alone. Sorry. Please show me what else you care about!

- Bonus points for queer or disabled scifi or fantasy writers.

- I am white for most intents and purposes but I always want to find more AOC who write sci fi.

- Also always excited to meet more YA authors- especially the currently kinda sidelined YA scifi.

- People who care about where society is going but aren't posting that everything is doomed and pointless. I mean you post whatever you want but I don't need that on my dash. That shit is not helping me help.

I sometimes do ask games? It's fun when I have the time. It'd be fun to have more folks to do them with, provided those folks are patient.

Please interact if this has piqued your interest!

[caffeineaddictedturtle]

Deus ex Machina I.

idol!Minho× afab!Reader genre: angst, slice of life, established relationship warning(s): self hatered, bad dream, stressed out reader, burn out, no beta we die like man an: i explain it here (btw I wrote this when i was struggling to write:) )

You’ve been sitting at it for hours at this point. Somehow nothing fixed it; you’ve done research, watched your current drama, drew your OCs, watched streams, ate, everything someone can name for writer's block, you did. It has been going on for weeks, at this point you considered writing an email to your publisher that you are giving up. You’ve been beating yourself up constantly, how bad of a writer you are, that you are a failure and that you will never be able to achieve your goals. It didn’t help that your boyfriend, Minho, is in Japan with his boy band doing promotion work for their next comeback. You wanted to be finished by the time he will be home, so you two have time, since the boys got a couple of days off in their hectic work schedule. 

It was passed 4 am when the front door opened — which you did not realize since you’ve been rewriting the same thing over, and over again — Lino quietly walked into the room after he got himself sorted out, thinking you might be asleep, but he was wrong. All he saw that you are slouching in front of the laptop, earbuds in, probably listening to one of your playlists, writing a paragraph, then deleting it, then writing it again. He knows that you always tried to solve the problem like this: going at it until it is solved, although maybe this time you should approach it differently, and he just knew how to. 

He tapped your shoulder, making you jump slightly. You took your earphones out as you looked behind you, shocked. “Min! Wait, what is the time? Oh god, I am so sorry babe, you could’ve called me!” He just chuckles and caresses your face, “I figured that you’d be sleeping, but I was wrong. Why aren’t you in bed? And don’t try to tell me you were just finishing up, I’ve seen you deleting and rewriting the same paragraph.” Minho knows you like he knows the back of his hand, you cannot escape his all-knowing gaze. “Okay, let’s go, we’re going to bed. You can save your progress, but you cannot do anything else, c’mon.” You stare at him in awe — after a while you pulled yourself together, saved your novel, and turned off your PC. He unloaded his dirty clothes into the laundry bin, and got ready for his bedtime. Once you finished packing your thinking, and putting your dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, you joined him. You brushed your teeth, did your skin care, and brushed your hair out; you massaged your neck and shoulders as you walked into your shared room. The smell, and the calming sound of the storm outside hit you just in the right spot; you felt your body starting to relax, as you climbed into your bed, finding a perfect spot in your boyfriends arm. You said your good nights, and you drifted off, not feeling the kiss he gave you on your head nor his worried words. Your dream was horrible: you couldn’t finish your book, so everyone hated you. Minho was disappointed to the point he broke up with you. Minho woke you up, looking a bit worried, “Y/N! Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You felt like it was silly, so you just shook it off. Couldn’t believe that you would make him wake you up just after a couple of hours of sleep, because you’re incapable of doing your job. You took a shaky breath trying to fight off the thoughts that yelled how worthless you are, or how you just got lucky, but you don’t deserve any of this. Minho made you turn to him, “Okay, this ain’t funny any more, let’s be honest with each other. I see that you are stuck with your book, I assume you got into a slump. I will help you with it once we slept enough, but it is time to tell me what’s wrong, Missy” His firm, but kind voice is what broke you: you started crying talking about how you are a horrible person being for not waiting him more appropriately, how you cannot just write what you need to write and so on. When you looked up, you anticipated a disapproving Lino, but all you saw is concern. He pulled you closer, and hummed you sweet melodies until you fell asleep.

masterlist ║request something ║part 2

[wyervan]

DCA SLASHER AU MASTERPOST

Yapathon about the premise and my Final Girl y/n character sheet

I use dca slasher au tag to refer to all posts, asks, and reblogs about the au in general. If your looking for ONLY my art or writing, try slasher dca (this applies only to my own blog—feel free to use whatever you tags you like if you do fanart/writing)

ART & COMICS (not exhaustive, just my favorites)

Posture check just guys being dudes Carrot Cake in Short-Shorts Frigay the 13th First post Halloween comic sketchdump Bad Dogs Star poking the beast Moer sketches forever weed brownie The locker comic Sun Why are Moon’s teeth so sharp? a little cake Valentines Part 1 & Part 2

WRITING

Halloween one-shot

AU SPOTIFY PLAYLIST SPOTIFY PLAYLISTS OF SONGS THE CHARACTERS WOULD ACTUALLY LISTEN TO

FAQ

What year does the AU take place in / How old are Sun & Moon? They are in their late 20s-early 30s in the noughties

Are they brothers? No. They originally met and became friends as kids.

Are “Sun” and “Moon” their real names? They are not their birth names but they exclusively go by them.

Are they serial killers? Who do they target? Yes, according to the definition. Generally, people who harm kids in some way.

How tall are they? Beanpole-sized

What do they sound like? Only Moon has a voice claim right now. Still searching for Sun's. Here's what I think it would sound like. Recs welcome

*sniff sniff* Here you go, you beautiful yet strange beastie

Damn, how do I get my hair to look like Sun's? A strict haircare routine.

Are they polyam? What would a relationship with them be like? It’s messy. And I always maintain, a lot depends on their dynamic with the oc!

How do you feel about Sun x Moon? A-okay with me, baybee~

Why are there so many y/ns? Is there a canon y/n? What's going on I'm scared! DCA SLASHER AU 🌈M U L T I V E R S E🌈

Can anybody make an OC / Self-insert for the AU? God yes, of course. And it doesn't even have to be a "final girl" or even one of their employees.

Is there a fic somewhere I can read? Currently, there's just the Halloween one-shot. I would love to do more and I am working on the bones of a full fic AND/OR a longer-form comic (haven't decided yet what final form the story will take). BUT this is likely a long way off.

Are you okay with NSFW / Spicy fanwork? broadly speaking, yes

A other asks as much for my own reference as much as anyone else's: (Sun's a people pleaser) | (what sort of weather they like) | (bedtime routines) (morning routines) | (various questions 1) | (various questions 2) | (can I touch Sun's hair?) | (Can they sing and dance?) | (Can I cook 4 them 🥺?) | (not hallmark behavior) | (do they like board games?) | (do they like spicy foods?) | (do they like horror movies?) | (Do they drink?) | (would smoon actually hurt y/n) | (what do they like to yap about?) | (what are the arcade's hours?) | (do other FNaF character exist in the AU's universe?) | (A little extra lore on y/n Star) |

FANWORK

Other people's final girl y/ns and AU OCs All Fanart from other amazing people Fanfiction from other amazing people Lineup of all of the final girls and OCs (as of Dec 12th) by the wicked cool @/authormeat

Absolutely feel free to @ me in your post. Seeing your work fills me with such joy! Tag your posts however you'd like. Any specific tags I use are for my own blog's organization.

[aquanutart]

desert flygon

[beautifulsimswherearethey]

the pottery studio next door

inspired by @moonwoodhollow's Zora Ceramics build

[navree]

Incorrect, the fact that Biden has dropped out and a candidate with history of supporting medicare for all and being more receptive to a ceasefire in the I/P conflict has made me go from "I cannot morally support the Democratic nominee" to "I am voting for the Democratic nominee despite the fact she isn't perfect in every respect." I'm really happy this played out. The Dems for the most part abandoned the old Obama platform and it feels like its possible an actual progressive agenda could come to pass in my lifetime.

Kamala 2024!

If you weren't going to vote Democratic in this election before Biden dropped out you're a dorkass loser who does not care about any of the issues you're yammering about here and also a fundamentally bad person, and I hope you get run over by a bus.

But you got one thing right in all of this gibberish, Kamala 2024.

[queenerdloser]

me, making free hotel reservations back in like january: wow this place looks nice, that's within my budget even if it's a bit pricier, i want to stay here!!! sure i'll pay extra for a upgraded space with a nice view, why not????

me, making the actual hotel payment: oh god. oh jesus. should i just stay in a tent on the roadside instead.

[lunarharp]

pretty & cute witch men

[thickenmyblood]

hi maca :) do u already know when you can post chapter 20? im so sad about hiuh ending but also so excited for some happiness :( also, will it really only be 20 chapters or will you add one or two more? in any case, thanks so much for all the time and effort you put into this! I loved every second I spent reading this fic <3

hello!!! well, i was supposed to post ch20 on feb 1st . . . but that obviously did not happen. this month is the month though!!!! I'll try to make it happen before march.

about the chapter: yes, it's the last chapter ever. there will be no more. ever. honestly, I don't think you'll want another chapter after this considering the rough draft I'm working with is 250 PAGES