#people you used to find at goth clubs

[gothiccharmschool]

Eldergoth storytime!

Waaaay back in the day there was an older gentleman in our local goth club scene who made no attempt to disguise he was a sug*ar da*addy. (I'm censoring terms in hopes of avoiding bot spam.) His relationships generally lasted about a year, and the younger woman who dated him knew exactly what they were getting into. As far as any of us could tell, it wasn't predatory - he was up front about it. Was it still kind of weird? Yes, but I'd rather have someone like that around than the creepers and predatory "nice guys".

So anyway, one night at Ye Olde Spooky Club, his current girl bounced off the dance floor over to where a bunch of us were standing around drinking and gossiping. Mr. Moneybags pulled out his wallet, handed her a stack of bills, and told her to go buy all of us drinks. ("Make sure you get James to bring them over on a tray - you don't need to carry them!")

After she scampered off, he turned to me. "I'm sorry, Jilli. Here, tell Pete I said you should buy yourself something pretty", he said, tucking a $50 into my hatband. "Um", I said. "No, no, don't argue. You deserve a treat."

When I got home and told this story to Pete, he cracked up laughing.

Very weird night, but again, I'd much rather have someone who is clear about their preferences and intention than "nice guys".

[transform4u]

I’m a up and coming gay college freshman, definitely more focused on the academic end of things. any chance I could have a real straight bro’s college experience?

You stand in front of your dorm room mirror, adjusting your outfit for the night. It's not just any party—you're getting ready for Alistair's party, the only other guy as smart as you, yet also your longtime rival. The rivalry goes back to high school where you competed fiercely for top grades, and Alistair never quite forgave you for being valedictorian. You'd hoped attending a top university would keep you apart, but fate had other plans. Now, you share nearly every class and club, constantly crossing paths in classes, dorms, cafeterias, and even at GSA meetings.

High school rumors painted you and Alistair as boyfriends, a hilarious misconception given your rivalry. You were the charming, kind geek with a hidden cuteness, while Alistair was awkward, intensely bookish, and secretly jealous of your easy charm and looks. He was deeply into Star Wars, whereas you had every episode of Doctor Who on DVD and even dressed as the 14th Doctor last year.

Tonight, you had hoped Alistair's party invitation signaled a truce, a chance to bury the hatchet and start fresh. But stepping into his dimly lit dorm room, bathed in red lights and adorned with an emo witchy goth aesthetic, you feel a strange tension in the air. Tacky Star Wars posters clash with shirtless pin-ups of Tom Holland and Chris Evans, and Alistair's black-rimmed glasses give him an intense, cat-like gaze.

"Welcome," he greets you with a coy smile, handing you a drink. You cautiously sniff it—it seems fine. "We should probably pregame a bit, right? To putting the past behind us! To starting a new!" he says cheerfully, raising his glass. Little did you know how true those words would ring.

As you sip the drink, a peculiar sensation washes over you. Your head spins, and you glance down to see yourself standing inside a pentagram marked on the floor. Candles around it flicker to life, and Alistair begins chanting in a low, resonant voice.

"By the magic that shapes the soul and bends the will, I transform my rival with a potent skill. From intellect to muscle, from wit to brawn, Make him the jock he'd sneer upon."

Energy pulses through your body as Alistair continues, his words weaving a spell that seems to twist reality itself.

"Let his speech be all about the game, His thoughts as shallow as his fame. Turn his interests, twist his mind, Let ignorance and swagger bind."

You struggle to protest, to break free from the enchantment that grips you, but it's futile.

"By the moon and stars above, Grant me this spell, my deepest love. To teach a lesson, change the scene."

In an instant, darkness envelops you.

When you regain your senses, you find yourself amidst a lively, bustling party. Music thumps loudly, and colorful lights dance across the room. Confusion grips you—something is definitely different, but you can't quite grasp it. People around you seem to regard you differently, and you feel a newfound confidence, a swagger in your step that's both thrilling and disconcerting.

Alistair stands nearby, watching you with an inscrutable expression. There's a flicker of understanding between you, amidst the chaos of the party. Whatever spell he cast has altered the fabric of your being, and tonight will unfold a new chapter in your rivalry—one that promises revelations and challenges you never anticipated. As you navigate the party, you know one thing for certain: this night will change everything between you and Alistair.

As Alistair watches, a sly grin spreads across your face, almost instinctively. The music of the party pulsates around you, but your mind feels like it's in a haze, memories of computational thinking and Doctor Who episodes slipping away like sand through your fingers. Instead, they are replaced with vivid recollections of football matches watched with your old man, and hours spent cheering on WWE wrestlers.

An energy pulses through your body, causing a throbbing sensation in your head. You reach up to rub your temples, only to find that your dorky glasses slip from your face and clatter to the ground, unnoticed. As you stare down at your hands, you feel a strange shift occurring within you.

Your once-boyish charm and baby fat seem to melt away, leaving behind a face that is a stark contrast to the one you once knew. It's a study in blunt masculinity and exaggerated features, reminiscent of a bulldog's rugged charm. Your forehead, broad and unyielding, slopes down to meet a pronounced brow ridge that casts a perpetual shadow over your steel-blue eyes, now narrowed with skepticism.

Your nose, once straight and strong, bears the signs of numerous fractures, giving it a slightly crooked and pugnacious appearance. Lips that were once gentle and unassuming now twist into a cocksure smirk or a disdainful sneer, revealing teeth that gleam too perfectly.

Your jawline, heavy-set and sharply descending, ends in a squared-off chin that juts forward with an almost confrontational air, adorned with a perpetual chinstrap. Cheeks that were once flushed with excitement over intellectual pursuits now speak of nights spent in rowdy frat parties and on the football field, basking in the adulation of peers.

As your face sets into this new mold, new memories flood your mind, pushing out the remnants of your old life. You recall the rush of adrenaline during football matches, the horsing around with your teammates, and the cheers of the crowd. Thoughts of wrestling matches and late-night parties become clearer, overshadowing any trace of your former nerdy pursuits.

As you stare down at your skinny, twinky body, an unnatural rage begins to well up inside you. Standing at barely 5'6" and 110 pounds soaking wet, you've always felt inadequate, especially when compared to the jocks and athletes around you. The feeling of frustration and insignificance intensifies as you feel a strange twitching sensation in your muscles, almost as if they are awakening from a long slumber.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, your body begins to change. You feel a surge of energy coursing through your veins, igniting a transformation that defies logic and reason. Inch by inch, you grow taller, your frame expanding into something imposing and solidly built. Soon, you stand tall at around 6 feet 3 inches, your once-slender physique replaced by broad shoulders that taper down to a narrow, muscular waist.

Your chest swells into a barrel-like mass of muscle, proudly displaying well-defined pectorals that ripple with each movement. Thick, sinewy arms hang by your sides, adorned with veins that trace their way over bulging biceps and forearms hardened by countless repetitions of weightlifting and grappling.

Your neck becomes thick and sturdy, supporting a square jawline that hints at your stubborn determination and competitive spirit. Despite your newfound size, there's a grace in the way you move—a controlled athleticism honed through years of wrestling and football practice. Your legs, now like tree trunks, showcase the explosive strength necessary for dominating on the wrestling mat or breaking through defensive lines on the football field.

Weathered and bronzed skin, bearing the occasional scar or bruise earned in the heat of competition, tells stories of your journey through physical challenges. Tattoos, often tribal or school insignias, adorn your arms and chest, marking your allegiance to team and fraternity. Off the field, your posture exudes confidence—a relaxed but assertive stance that speaks volumes of your status among peers.

Alistair bursts into laughter as he witnesses the drastic transformation you've undergone. The disbelief and amusement are palpable in his expression, but you ignore his reaction. Instead, you grunt at him with a newfound confidence, "Yo nerd, get me a beer."

Alistair, caught off guard but amused by the situation, quickly conjures another enchanted beer. You take a swig, and as the enchanted liquid flows down your throat, you feel your mind growing duller and dumber. Memories of late-night study sessions and intellectual debates fade away, replaced by images of rowdy frat parties, cheering crowds, and the adrenaline rush of competitive sports.

Compassion and empathy seem to smolder and fade, overshadowed by a growing sense of arrogance and entitlement. As you revel in this new persona, you realize that tonight marks a significant shift in your life. The rivalry with Alistair has taken on a new dimension—one where physical strength and social status reign supreme.

You see a keg out the corner of your eye and rush to it. You feel a strange sensation as you start pumping the keg. With each pump, your intelligence seems to slip away like sand through your fingers. The rage builds up inside of you, consuming every ounce of compassion and empathy that once existed within you.

Your clothes begin to change as well, transforming from your usual smart attire into something more befitting a frat boy - loud and obnoxious garments that scream "party animal." Your personality shifts along with your appearance; what was once reserved becomes brash and aggressive.

The memories of Kevin Brady - the cute theatre twink who stole your heart at prom - fade away like dust in the wind. In their place is an image of some busty blonde bimbo cheerleader who now occupies that special spot in your mind where Kevin used to be. As if by magic, she materializes before you with her boobs jiggling seductively under her skimpy outfit while she smiles coyly at you over her shoulder

With each new pump comes another blow against everything that made up who you are: intellectually curious… artistically inclined… sensitive towards others' feelings… All these traits are lost as dullness sets in like molasses on a cold winter's day – replaced by mindless conformity and shallow pleasure-seeking behaviors characteristic only among straight frat boys.

As you pump the keg more, you start to smell the beer. Your nostrils flare and you feel yourself becoming deeply conservative. Republican and Southern values fill your mind as a gold cross forms around your neck.

Memories and beliefs form in your head - memories of going to church every Sunday with your old man, beliefs about traditional family values and hard work paying off. You remember how much fun it was playing football in high school, representing everything that's right about America: strength, determination, teamwork… all those things that make this country great!

Thoughts about the radical left begin to creep into your mind now too though - thoughts like "they're ruining our country" or "they want us all dependent on government handouts". But then again maybe they're just jealous because they don't have what we do: freedom! And if anyone tries taking away our freedoms? Well then we'll show them who really runs this place… won't we now?

As you continue pumping the keg, memories begin to form in your mind - memories of fucking the dumb cheerleader bitch in the back of a limo. A cocky grin grows on your face at the thought of it.

Suddenly, Alistair is there, looking at you with disdain. "Watch you looking at faggot," you holler at him, and something strange happens - his clothes become tighter, his face cuter… unnaturally so. He looks and talks like a total faggot now!

"You're such a big bully!" Alistair lisps as he cowers before you. You can't help but laugh maniacally as he whimpers pathetically under your gaze. "You're just jealous," you shout back at him while tugging on your own cock for emphasis, "you're not packing like a real man."

Alistair continues to act more like a fag throughout the party as it grows louder and straighter around you - all jocks and bimbo sluts now dominate this scene that was once filled with diversity (or so it seemed). "Why don't you hang out with your loser queer friends in the theatre Alistair!"

Without hesitation or remorse whatsoever (because why would there be any?), you pull up Alistair's tight thong until he screams bloody murder while everyone else laughs hysterically along with you because let's face it: life is just too short not to enjoy ourselves sometimes right?

You remember getting to college on a football scholarship. You're big, strong, and obnoxious - just the way they wanted their players to be. Your fellow bros and you get fucking wasted every chance you get, doing shots and keg stands until the early hours of the morning.

As the beer fuels your every move, you spot a hot chick with huge tits walking by.

"Dude," one of your bros says as he enters the room, "did you fucking do her?" He laughs heartily at his own joke while slapping your back - an action that only makes you feel more nauseous than before.

"Yeah man," another adds, "she was totally into you! Said she wanted it rough." They all laugh again… but there's something different about their laughter this time around: it holds an edge of envy mixed with disbelief – almost as if they couldn't quite wrap their heads around how lucky you always were or maybe they just didn't want to admit deep down inside that deep down inside what really happened was something none of them would ever admit out loud: jealousy.

You spot the hot chick with huge tits from last night at the party, and she walks over to you. "Hey there stud," she says in a seductive voice. "Remember me?"

You grin cockily at her. "Of course I do, babe. You were the one who couldn't get enough of my dick last night."

She giggles like a schoolgirl and flips her hair over her shoulder. "Yeah, that's right! I just can't get enough of big strong men like you."

You take another swig of your beer and wink at her suggestively. "Well, lucky for you then isn't it?"

She steps closer to you so that their breasts are practically touching your chest through their tight clothes as she whispers in your ear: "Do me again tonight baby."

Your eyes widen slightly at this unexpected turn of events - not because it turns out this girl actually wanted more than just one night with someone like yourself but rather because deep down inside… well let's face it: even someone as obnoxious and brutish as yourself has his limits when it comes to how far he can push things without consequences coming back around sooner or later.

You flirt with the hot chick, feeling her up under the table where no one can see. Your bros egg you on from across the room, cheering you on as they clink their beer bottles together in anticipation of what's about to happen next.

Without a second thought, you stand up and pull her by the hand towards an empty bedroom nearby. The door slams shut behind you as everyone outside watches intently through narrowed eyes - waiting for that telltale moan or groan that signals something truly special is taking place within those four walls right now…

Inside, she kneels down in front of your pants unzipping them quickly before taking out your already erect cock which she begins sucking eagerly while running her hands over your muscular frame like it was some sort of prize-winning sculpture come to life right before her very eye. "Oh...Oh...Caleb....you're so fucking hot" she moans

You flex your huge biceps in the mirror as you face fuck this dumb slut, watching yourself with pride. Your ego grows larger by the second, swelling to unimaginable proportions as it becomes increasingly clear that there's nothing or no one who can stand up to you now.

Your mind is barely the size of a pea these days… but who needs brains when you have brute force? Sex and football. Beer and bros. Chicks and thinking with your dick… that's all that matters anymore anyway! You grab fistfuls full of hair and guide her head back and forth along your shaft faster than ever before until finally reaching climax inside her mouth – filling it with thick ropes upon ropes worth every last drop until there's nothing left but satisfaction written all over both your faces.

You're young, dumb, and repeating freshman year for the third time now - but who cares? Not Caleb! All he knows is how to party hard while maintaining his reputation as being one helluva stud among his peers (and maybe even beyond)… so why bother trying anything new when what works keeps working just fine.

[fantasticallyfruity4]

You know how people have started telling their kids “if you get lost go find a goth/punk person” bc (rightfully so) like this wild cultural shift has led to us being seen as safe, trustworthy responsible ppl?

Okay

Well

It got me thinking about punk Steve (again. Of corse) and this being a single dad! Eddie steddie meet cute.

I don’t know what’s funnier. Eddie telling little Max and Dustin that if they get lost they should look for someone who looks like him/his friends, someone goth/punk/metal. Or his kids doing it on their own volition. Bc the housewives with their little strollers always give their dad dirty looks and mean sneers in the grocery store but the people who look like their dad and his friends are always nice to him.

However it goes, one day Steve’s at the super market and he feels a small hand tug on the bottom of his battle jacket and a small voice say “excuse me mister?”

And he looks down and this little pippy long stockings kid is looking up at him with a wobbly lip and tears in her eyes and he’s like instantly on alarm and panicked.

“Hey friend, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Where’s your mom?”

“I got lost and I can’t find my daddy and my brother”

“Hey, that’s okay, we’ll find them together. Insta gonna be okay. What do they look like?”

“Uuuh. My daddy looks like you. But with more hair”. And Steve snorts a laugh because yup, that makes sense. Usually parents tell their kids to stay a million miles away from him at all times. Corse this kid is a punks baby. “What’s your bother look like? He got hair like you? What’s his name?”

“Dustin. He’s got brown hair and a big dumb hat”.

Steve snorts. “Think your funny?”

And the little girl giggles. Cool. Good. Mission accomplished.

“So we’re looking for dad and Dustin. Dustin’s got a big dumb hat and dads wearing a jacket like me, yeah?” And she nods. Cool. Okay that’s easy to find. “And what’s your name?” “I’m max”. “That’s a cool name max. I’m steve”

And so Steve and the little girl make a couple laps around the grocery store calling out for Dustin, and finally, finally, they hear panting and squeaking rubber and “max! Oh my god max! You scared the crap out of me!” And this- oh. This gorgeous metal head is running up to the girl and pulling her into his arms, mumbling a string of “don’t scare me like that again” and “I’m sorry baby I’m so sorry baby” and “I was worried sick”.

Sure enough there’s a little kid, bout the same height as max in a big dumb hat next to him.

Metal head dilf finally puts max down whose now hugging dustin who looks just as distraught at their dad was, and the metal head finally takes Steve in.

A glint catches in his eyes.

“You find this nice man to help you?” He asks. And she nods.

“Oh man, thank you so much I’m so sorry for the trouble” he apologizes. Steve just chuckles. “Hey it’s okay, I’m just glad we found you guys. Was getting worried for a few there. I’m Steve” Eddie takes the hand Steve extended. “I’m Eddie, I swear to god I don’t usually loose my kids” and steve laughs. “Hey, it happens to everyone, don’t sweat it. She’s okay, you’re okay, everything’s alright, yeah?”

“I still feel so horrible for the trouble. Is there anything I can do? Please let me atleats buy you a coffee”

Steve looks at his watch. He wishes he could. “I’ve gotta get to work, im really sorry, im already cutting it close since, you know” “oh, oh my god im so so sorry”

Listen. Listen. Steve’s no saint. And there is clearly a lack of a wedding band on this guys hand and 99% of the time if a kid is at a grocery store it’s with their mom. And some of those patches-

Steve’s gotta try.

“Hey, I really have to jet but um, here’s my number. Make good on that coffee some other time?”

“Yeah, yeah absolutely! Absolutely. Thank you, so much again. You’re a lifesaver Steve” Eddie smiles taking the small paper Steve just wrote his number on. (A cocktail napkin from a gay club in indie he just happened to have in his pocket, a god ordained way of making sure they were both on the same page.

[nopointic]

when lisa said how everyone always says "time heals all wounds" when you lose a loved one or are hurt so badly you feel like nothing will ever be okay again, and she said that's a lie "time is the wound" i was like!!!!!!!

that's the fucking wound!!!!! that's why we feel distressed when we're looking back at memories and can't find that shirt we wore every other monday to a club meeting or that bracelet your grandma gave you. the smudged and faded writings in old books you've had on your shelf for ages. we memorialize EVERYTHING as humans. hell even animals do too!

we write letters and sing songs and we lay flowers and grin at laughs that sound familiar and get misty eyed at scents we catch walking through a crowded store. we cut hair and keep lockets of it and i've seen parents hold onto gowns they wore at the hospital while giving birth (my grandma still has the gown she gave birth to my mom in! she's 82 years old!!!!!!!!!! had my mom at 17!!!!!!) we are all made of memories and lisa is so right about how nobody should be forgotten.

the creature leaving flowers and writing beloved wife on her tomb! the gummy rings! the stitches she used to put him back together. the note folded like a football and she used her favorite pink gel pen! you KNOW she spritzed some perfume on that letter! you know lisa! we know her! cos weird shy quiet girls are her! (i am still selectively mute)

time is an open wound because we don't know how much we're gonna get. when he played the piano and lisa said you had a whole life. yes! people in the past had lives and fufilling ones! even if the final tombstone says something as fucked up unmarried or unknown, that use to be a vibrant soul! a person! like you and me.

lisa frankenstein may be corny or too campy to some, but it was everything my libra pink heart emoji with the yellow sparkles could ever want in a romcom.

someone literally ride or die for you, showing you their wounds, holding their wounds and saying i see and feel you and i'm gonna make this better, not perfect, but better, and i love you for loving and noticing me, and not throwing me away. for remembering me and picking me over and over even when i wasn't there. even when i didn't talk. when i couldn't talk. when i chose NOT to talk. you picked me? and loved me anyways? and got me?!

that is love.

and yes, lisa frankenstein is poetic cinema to me. sorry not sorry but it is. 5 stars. a million pink heart emojis.

a pair of gummy rings and tulle skirt in pastel goth colors with bold rainbow suspenders. this movie has my heart!

[devourable]

☹ the alt kids

sfw | tags : poly!nb!yans x gn reader (only prn used for reader is ‘you’), obsessive thoughts, slight manipulation, mentions of drinking

listen,,, i know melchior / nb demon yan beat these three in the poll but im itching to write about them. this goes out to my friend who wants to get piped by faust + lolita anon. love yall mmmmwah

also for reference, faust is they/he, delta is they/them, and anton is he/she/they !

please rb to support me 🫶

the alt kids were notorious for seeking out club newbies to play with. it was just something they did.

there was just something so adorable about the way someone totally out of their element dipping their toes into their scene! and the three had made it clear that fresh meat was off limits to anyone but them.

it was a simple cycle — someone new would enter the club, they'd swoop in and show them a good time, take them home at the end of the night if they're lucky, and repeat.

they thought it'd be no different when you came along, but...

oh, how wrong they were.

see, faust could practically feel the inexperience dripping off of you the moment you entered the nightclub.

all on your own, your eyes wide as you took in the flashing lights and loud music, the way you cautiously stepped around the sea of dancing bodies in attempt to find some place you could fit in comfortably? definitely another cute little freshie that'd soon join their ranks.

but faust didn't account for the zip of heat that ran through his body when you and him locked eyes from across the club. he didn't expect the unfamiliar feeling of his heart racing, a feeling only comparable to how he felt when he saw his partners — but why was it so much stronger? and when you offered up a shy little smile and averted your gaze, it damn near knocked him back.

who were you?

they had no clue, but they knew one thing. they needed to leave this club with you at the end of the night.

so faust all but ran to your side, appearing by you before you had even noticed their approach. god, you were even cuter up close... the way you looked up at them made their heart want to leap from their chest!

but they kept their cool. faust introduced themself, commenting on how they noticed you from across the bar and how they couldn't just let a sightly little thing like you venture around all on your own. the club could be so intimidating for newcomers — dangerous, even! but you didn't have a thing to worry about with them by your side.

they loved how demure you were, how you held your heating face when he complimented you, how you tried to wave off their advances but seemed to enjoy it just a bit too much to wave them off. were you intimidated by them? or… did you like them back? they wish they knew!

so you joined them, and accompanied them to the bar.

it was there you met one of their partners — a startlingly tall, reserved goth. you saw him well before you even got to the bar! between the major size difference, her icy gaze, and seemingly disinterested demeanor, it was safe to say you were intimidated. so you were incredibly surprised when faust strutted right up to them, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and waved you over to meet her. and it surprised you even further when they took one of your hands in theirs, pressed a kiss to your knuckles, and introduced themself after studying you silently.

unbeknownst to you and faust, anton was feeling that same intense fire in his chest that faust got when they first looked at you. he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over your attire as you gave your name in turn.

you were so small compared to him. as was most other people, but… it was strangely endearing when he looked down at you. it’d be so easy to just scoop you up, wouldn’t it? and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. he kept those thoughts to himself, but they flickered across his mind every time you came enough for him to take in the difference in your sizes.

the pair bought you drinks, got you a nice seat and showered you in attention. chatting you up, complimenting you, practically treating you like you were part of their polycule already. though they never mentioned it, faust and anton knew they had the same feelings towards you. the intense desire to just… have you. and not just for the night, either. you were so much more than all of their previous flings.

then delta came along. petite, sly delta who liked to play coy when it came to those they were interested in. they had pretended to be too busy dancing the entire time before joining their partners and you at the bar, but they were watching. and after witnessing how their boyfriends were all over you for so long, they had to join in. what were you doing to them?

they walked up to the three of you, pointedly looked you up and down, and… they understood in an instant. man, you were a looker! and even sweeter than the usual folk the three would usually play around with. they easily invited themself to the conversation, taking a seat right on faust’s lap and stuck up a chat with you as if they had been there the entire time.

they loved how flustered you were, so overwhelmed by all the attention the three were now pouring onto you. and despite your overstimulation, you were trying so hard to talk to them all anyway. you clearly had no clue what to do, poor thing… they had no choice but to take the lead for you!

“wanna dance? ..no? that’s fine~ let’s get another drink!”

“it’s so loud in here. let’s go somewhere quieter, yeah? i wanna hear that pretty voice more clearly.”

“aww, you wanna leave? you can sober up at our place! it’d be dumb if you got a ticket you could’a avoided.”

“you’ll stay the night with us, won’t you, darling? we’d hate for you to leave us so soon.”

[ajaxbell]

Hard to Find was a teen dream come true for me though not in the usual way.

Though I very much enjoyed this I'm not sure if I can wholeheartedly recommend it. It's not going to be for some people. But for the ones who get it it will be perfect. For me this was the cdrama of my teen goth dreams (if I'd known what cdramas were way back then). And it did everything I needed it to do in that regard. But objectively I had issues with big chunks of the story, with great setups that were never used, and pieces that never quite came together in the end.

Right upfront I'll say story-wise and casting-wise this was really uneven. I don't think the female lead was quite on par with the male lead. He really carries most of this on the strength of his impeccable jawline. And I've seen him do scorching love scenes in other shows, but the female lead here can't quite meet the heat he brings. And initially I was a little concerned about every other cast member looking like they were 14 years old. But the core cast ended up doing a good job with what they were given and some of the characters turned out to be truly quite excellent.

The villain could have been stronger in the beginning (though his over the top scenery chewing really worked in the end). The romance was really quite sweet and decently done. There was a run of misunderstandings  as the basis for plot conflict which isn't my fave but ultimately I think it was handled well here. And a love triangle that I actually truly enjoyed how it ended up being handled.

I generally prefer cohesive plots and well developed characters with true arcs in my stories. I'm not much for just vibes being enough, but in this case, the vibes alone are worth it. I was a goth teen way back in youth and if this had existed then I would have been insufferable about it. People would have shunned me because I wouldn't have talked about anything else. I'd have gone to dance clubs in Helian Xi cosplay, swanning around in goth robes and playing at brooding in the snow. The first part of this really has the vibes of The Crow (1994). Zhao Yiqin is absolutely perfect as the gloomy goth prince, Helian Xi. He broods like a champ and his jawline is sharp enough to cut through any plot issues. The first part of this really has the vibes of The Crow mostly because Helian Xi really being his best ancient Chinese Eric Draven. A lot of gloomy fairy prince vibes here too. And the choices for the sets make this atmospheric in a very fairy tale way.

As I said, this is not without flaws and not as good as other stuff I've seen from this team. But it's so beautifully shot, it's worth watching for the visuals alone. It is decently acted despite all the teens. The sound track is excellent. The costumes are just gorgeous. Though I do not love the hairstyling on the female lead. It's truly distracting in an otherwise dazzling show. And the eps are all like 18 minutes long, so it's nearly impossible not to just race through it, entranced by how beautiful it is. It goes so fast you might not even notice the shaky story issues. Alas the ending does go in for choosing to further the plot at the expense of being true to the characters they developed, which is too bad, but it does not ruin the overall dreamy brooding goth mood of the show. So yeah, I recommend it only if you want the full on melodramatic teen goth feeling of overwhelming love in a fantasy kingdom of brooding princes and can look past the plot hitches. Really it's so visually stunning I would watch it again just for that.

[ebonysplendor]

Do you have a review of The Kid At The Back?

O_O;

Pfft...of course I do! What? You thought I just had it downloaded and in my "Play Later" stash for the past 2 - 3 months with the full intention of playing it and writing a review, just for it to never happen? Of course not~! Just to prove it to you, I will insert the entire thing right here, no links needed! And no, it's not because I didn't have it written until now, so don't think that! ANYWAYS.

TL;DR: I'm not worried about if this man is at the back. My question and only concern is can he hit it from the back?

Game Link: https://fantasia-kittcat.itch.io/the-kid-at-the-back-demo

Notable Features: Yandere LI, Custom Pronouns, Self-Insert (first and last name), Two LIs, 1+ Hour Long Demo Spiciness: 2/5 or 5/5 -- It depends on which version you get. If you get the regular degular free version, it'll be more innocent with some flirtiness here and there. If you pay for the NSFW version, it'll be way more sinful and the way that the Gods intended it to be. LI Red Flags: 4/5 -- Breaking-and-entering, possessive, drugged us, lack of consent; the usual stuff, but I can fix him

Wanna know more? Pfft, not if you aren't in the 18+ club you don't. Yes, that's even with nothing explicit popping off in the demo. So go on, get away. Oh? You're at least 18? Well, what are we waiting for?! Let's get into it!

...Okay, so I may or may not have completely lied about having this review written, but I mean, so what?! I'm making the review now, aren't I?! Cut a girl some slack!

Lol actually, all jokes aside, this gave me the push that I needed to go on and get it done. I've honestly been meaning to play this game for a hot minute now, but other things caught my immediate attention, and this kept getting pushed further and further back. All that matters now is that I've finally played it, I'm making the review, and we are here together as a squad.

Now, with that being said...

I find it extremely disrespectful that I waited so long to play this masterpiece; what was I thinking?

The story, so far, has me in an absolute chokehold, and I absolutely hate that it's only the demo because I want to know now. I am all over this story right now, and the dev is going all the way in with no remorse.

Not to mention, the LI -- or at least the one that I'm simping for, because there's two this time -- is just so damned good looking. What's even more attractive is that he doesn't play into the whole edge lord stereotype like some people we know. He's actually a pretty sweet guy so far! He has psycho tendencies, for sure, but a sweet guy overall!

Just as a side note, I have always had the weakest spot for a guy in alt/goth/emo/grunge -- all of that -- fashion. Like, the attraction that I have is ungodly, and I just...like, it's disrespectful how attractive I find them. Now, I want you to imagine our yandere LI...but with tattoos. When I tell you that I'd be ruined?!

Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch.

When I say ready to submit?! When I say ready to turn into the absolute best baby girl?

*Ahem*

Okay, now that I've got my degeneracy out a little bit, I'm going to start giving you a summary of the game so that you can be as absolutely geeked -- and in love with this man -- as much as I am. The game is really good, and like I said, the story is damned interesting thus far. Anyways, I'm going to stop yapping so I can start telling you about the game. Like always, I am going to tell you as much about the game as possible without ruining the game itself. That being said, let's finally get into it.

So boom.

Literature class is over, and we're getting our anime protagonist on. We're dramatically looking out the window thinking about how it's going to rain, and how it was super unfortunate that we hadn't brought an umbrella. ... Damn.

...Okay, well anyways! Now that we've had our main character complex solidified, we get up, and one of the members of the squad inquire about lunch before another one comes up behind them. Now, we aren't too worried about them anymore because we're looking at him.

Jericho "Crowe" Ichabod.

Classroom representative, close friend, and an absolute snack. While he has an anime antagonist aesthetic to him, he has the vibe of the supporting character and love interest of the anime protag, ya feel me? Like, we are feeling this man.

After we're done thinking about how much we simp over this man on the low, we respectfully reject the offer to go to lunch and instead hit the library, anticipating that addictive smell of books and coffee. Besides, we've got a paper to work on, so why not? We get our stuff, and we head in that direction.

Now, everyone knows about having unassigned assigned spaces, right? You know that whole thing when you get so used to sitting in a particular seat, or having a certain parking spot, or always studying in a particular room, so you just always gravitate towards it and kind've make this unsaid claim on it? Well, we have an unassigned assigned seat by this window in the library, and some bitch took it right as we were going towards it. How are we supposed to feed into our main character syndrome, if we don't have the window seat?

Whatever though. We're lowkey pissy about it, but we decided to let the kid have their moment. Everyone deserves their own episode, ya feel? We go find another seat.

Since this is the library and all, we start browsing the shelves to find a book for a little leisure reading. Was this the initial choice? No, but we weren't really trying to involuntarily focus on the fact that we got stuck sitting around all the gossiping "peaked-in-high-school" students. Shout out to that bitch who took our seat earlier. Your mom's a hoe, and I hope someone punches you in the face. Either that or you get in a knife fight. Either is good, just don't sit in my damned unassigned assigned seat anymore.

It gets worse though, because we can't even look for a book in peace. There's this loud ass thud from the book shelf right next to us, and whoever knocked into it hit it hard enough that some of the books almost came off the shelf. Of course, we've got to investigate the cause of this, so we try to catch a peek through a gap on the bookshelf and...it's honestly typical.

Remember when I told you about the "peaked-in-high-school" students? Well, we found another set on the other side of the bookshelf. These two students were harassing this other student for, what sounds like, no apparent reason. The situation escalates pretty quickly before one of the bullies absolutely knocks that other student's shit in. We just kind've wince because, damn that's tough...but, meh, it's not our business. The other bully then proceeds to pull out a pocket knife. Well, damn, I guess it's our business...

We jump in.

Lol don't get it twisted, though. We didn't do much, but we did do enough to get them to go away, which mattered more than anything because this guy was definitely about to end up in a hospital bed.

We help this poor, unfortunate soul up, and...gah damn, he's tall. Lol imagine my 5'2.5 -- 5'3 on a good day -- self helping this 6ft tall man up. Sheeeeeeeeesh. He should've curb stomped their asses, because he's gotta be rocking at least a size 14 shoe.

Anyways, I guess he kind've said "fuck us" though, because we were like "Nurse's office?" and he was like "Nah" and just straight dipped out after that. No "thank you", no nothin', and-- wait.

THIS BITCH WAS THE ONE SITTING IN OUR UNASSIGNED ASSIGNED SEAT. We know this, because he went and got his stuff from over there and then bolted out of the library! Well, that explained the punch to the face and the pocket knife. Honestly? Good look, universe.

Okay, okay, okay, enough jokes; let's get on with the rest of the story (kinda because avoiding huge spoilers).

We leave the library, too, after some more time goes by, and guess who's in our next class...

The bitch that stole our seat The guy from the library. Huh...never noticed him before this point, but that's probably because he sits at the very back of the room.

He must've noticed us, too, though, because when we make eye contact, he get's all flustered in the face and looks away.

Now, admittedly, after that encounter in the library, we're kind've curious about this kid, and, again, it's dope how the universe works sometimes because, for this class, we need a partner, and wouldn't you know it?

We don't have a partner, he doesn't have a partner, so we do as the Gods intended and pair up.

Contrary to how he looks, he actually isn't the tsundere of our cast.

He -- his name is Solivan Brugmansia, by the way; he likes to be called sunny Sol -- is actually a pretty okay dude!

He's not that stereotypical emo boy edgelord or that arrogant hard ass that thinks the people around him are idiots. He's actually pretty nice and legit doesn't mind our company; he's even open to seeing us outside of class just to casually hang out and talk. He's also pretty -- very, extremely... -- damned attractive, if you don't mind me throwing that in. Something else that I wanna throw in is that -- you remember when I mentioned that he rushed out without saying "thank you"? -- he said "thank you" and really appreciated us jumping in to help him.

Pretty grateful that he didn't make it to the knife fight portion of our threat. I would've never made that threat if I knew he was going to be this sweet of a guy.

Anyways, class gets out, we exchange numbers, and make mentions of hanging out in the future before parting ways for the day. We get back home, text some of our friends and the new bae, and eventually go to sleep for the next day to roll around.

As mentioned, the next day rolls around, and we're with the squad making lunch plans. While this is going on, we find new bae in the crowd of students in the hallway. Naturally, we call him over, but in hindsight, this was not the brightest idea. We didn't really account for the fact that OG bae and new bae were going to catch a bad vibe from each other.

And boi, did they catch a bad vibe. More accurately, they caught a "you're competition" vibe.

At this point they're sizing each other up, and it's like, please don't do that, because I'll take you both...then again, I am leaning more towards one than the other.

But it might get bad depending on whoever we pick, and we've definitely got to pick.

I have got to give the fattest shout out to whoever sent that anon message in, because they've pushed me to stand on business and play this game, and it was so worth it.

Honestly, where do I even start with this? The art style, the bae, the plot -- dear Gods the plot. I am so invested in this story! You'll understand once you play it for yourself, but it's like...what is going on?! What is going on behind closed doors? Why are things starting to get not so black and white? Like, I am extremely suspicious of the things that are going on in this game. Like, the dev(s) didn't have to go in on the art style and the story like that. Speaking of the art style...

Y'all know that I have a thing for the way that games look, and baby, I am in love. I love this whole "comic book" vibe that this game has going on. Like, I just love the shadows behind the characters and their designs and how they're written and just -- I honestly can't give you a clear depiction of how much I love the art style or exactly what about it I love, but I love it. I just love the style of this game, how it looks, and how it flows.

Anyways, I think this game is definitely worth it, and shit, based on what I managed to dig up and research, those $5 to unlock the sin is worth it. Not even because the CGs or the scenes that were made exclusively for the degenerates were revolutionary or anything, but because I really feel that this is going to be a great damned visual novel once it's complete, and it is so deserving of that monetary support. The amount of work that has already gone into this game in its demo stage is impressive, and I am super excited to see what else is in store. Like, I'm really trying to see what day 3 is about at this point, and I'm trying to get to the part where Sol starts clapping these cheeks. I will do a lot more than just research the NSFW scenes, I'm going to drop some cash to experience that firsthand. BRING ON THE OTHER 5 DAYS. MY BODY IS READY FOR IT!

But seriously, when is Sol going to start hitting it from the back...? And no, I ain't scratching it out this time! Y'all know what it is at this point! You know full well that I am a degenerate.

Lol okay, anyways, all jokes aside, that's it from me.

Like I said, I'm really excited for this full game to drop, and I will gladly spend the money for it whenever that time comes. That being said, I definitely recommend it. If you want the NSFW version, you do have to spend a minimum of $5 to unlock it; however, if you're low on cash, you're still able to play, but it'll be the SFW version -- both are really good either way, so don't let that deter you.

I'll go ahead and put a link for it right here so that you can head on over and get in on this amazingness. As I always like to remind people to do, once you get to the dev's page, leave them that ever warm "Yo, this shit is fire..." to give them some verbal validation, and if you're feeling really fancy, drop some financial validation, too. Either way, definitely play this game because it is good and so worth the (minimum) hour of playthrough.

Welp, that's all from me, friends! As always, please remember to drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

The Kid at the Back (DEMO)

[kinky-pen]

Got any general Ouran headcanons?

More disorganised, general thoughts!

Tamaki:

When Tamaki found out about renfairs, the whole host club wasn't just dragged to one (I don't believe they're a thing in Japan, but I may be wrong), Tamaki made them help him organise one. Yes, Kyoya had thought he'd escaped budgeting for Tamaki's whims in adulthood, and yes he felt stupid for thinking that.

Paints his nails frequently. It's an activity he finds fun, but he also repaints them constantly because he changes his mind about the colour constantly! He also wants them to match his outfit, and god forbid he plan ahead.

Was raised Catholic in France, but finds much more love for the aesthetics and community than the religion himself.

Haruhi:

Haruhi was always androgenous, but she embraces her gender nonconformity and identity even more as they become and understands themselves. Lots of lovely suits, both masc and fem. (They do use all pronouns, also, but use she/they the most)

Keeps the short hair!! I know she grows it out in the manga, but the short hair is nicer, more in character, and Haruhi said on multiple occasions that they prefer it.

When she's a lawyer (not if, let's be real), she's actually scary good at employment law and making sure companies compensate and treat their worker's fairly (comrade Haruhi, everyone)

Kyoya:

Keeps a sketchpad handy a good portion of the time. He found art really relaxed him, and he's pretty talented at it, but he'll keep it to himself as it's something he actually considers for him, not profit or prestige.

Has had a crush on every member of the host club, at some point, except Hanni for obvious reasons (boo, you whore)

Has diagnosed depression, and is half convinced he has a personality disorder of some flavour. He can be a bit of a hypochondriac, however, and his doctors haven't confirmed anything as of yet. Who knows.

Hikaru:

Dyes his hair constantly, all sort of colours. Like Tamaki and his nails, Hikaru recolours his hair very often - as soon as he gets bored of it. It got to the point where he dyed it four times in a month, fried it all off, and had to get a buzz cut. He eased up a little after that.

Loves getting tattoos. He's one of those people that really love the sensation of it, and he also gets a cool piece of art on his body forever! Yes there's something wrong with him, he's seeing a therapist!

Loves spending time in his office, tinkering about with new things - whether it be finding new ways to put together certain pieces of hardware, or coding new software. He can disappear in there for days straight, sometimes (he has a mini fridge stocked with drinks and snacks, don't worry)

Kaoru:

Goes through phases of growing out his hair, then cutting it all off again. Changes hairstyles frequently. When you're head of a designer brand, you do have to balance keeping up with the latest trends with setting them, and I think Kaoru does well with both sides of that.

Loves flower arranging (which is semi-canon), but it's something he keeps up his whole life.

Kaoru actually does have some """mild""" HPD (that's the phrasing he uses, but he generally means he's high functioning) he's just like me frfr

Mori:

This man matures like a fine wine. Will always be attractive, honestly. He went from hunk to DILF to GILF effortlessly.

Still wins Judo competitions and such well into his early fifties, but decided to retire from competing at 53 due to some joint issues. Still keeps it up for fun and health, though.

Had a bit of a revelation about putting his foot down and protecting his boundaries during university. It actually helped him a lot with the self destructive tendencies he has in canon.

Hunni:

Living his best life with his goth wife! He just adores that girl so much and she'll kill for him! (Ask her to kill for you, Hunni, she really wants to)

Takes up baking his own cakes, which does actually save money in the long run - not that they need to worry about that.

Had a similar revelation to Mori in university, caused by Mori standing up for himself more. He realised that he can still be true to himself and what he wants, without running roughshod over those who care about him. He can still be a little selfish, but better than what we see in canon.

Also, as this is a kink blog and I don't really want to encourage engagement from people not into NSFW/are minors - please only 'like' this post if you're the aforementioned :)

[vampire-meta-knight]

I swear, some of these "goth is whatever you want it to be" people act like telling them they're not goth means the Federal Bureau of Goths is going to break down their door and confiscate all their black clothes.

Loves, no one is gatekeeping what you wear. No one is even gatekeeping goth events! You can still go to goth clubs as a non-goth--you just may not enjoy it as much if you don't like the music. All we ask is that you not use the label, which is shorthand for "fan of goth music," to describe yourself if you are not, in fact, a fan of goth music.

We love seeing your cool outfits and gorgeous makeup and flawlessly-dyed hair, and we love sharing aspects of our subculture! But the second you try to redefine it and take away the ONE requirement, we get protective. Darkly-inclined is a wonderful label--use it! Use alternative! Don't use goth, emo, punk, or grunge if you aren't fans of the corresponding music genres. Can you imagine if I, who's never listened to K-pop, only heard of two K-pop bands, and couldn't name a single member of BTS called myself a K-pop stan? (Punk is probably the only one here that's a little more flexible, since it's also rooted in a political movement and protesting, but it still found its birthplace in the music--music which then led to post-punk and goth rock, might I add).

Subcultures have to have a barrier of entry to be a subculture. There has to be a way to set apart the people who are in it and those who aren't. Saying someone isn't goth is not an insult! We don't look down upon you. We get annoyed with poseurs, but not someone who's just into the fashion and makeup aspect and doesn't try to redefine what a goth is. I guarantee there's probably a spooky, black-clad non-goth that I've followed a makeup or DIY tutorial from, and I think that's wonderful. I love that we have this shared interest, even if we have different taste in music.

We're not trying to be mean when we enforce the one rule to be a goth (there is a second unspoken rule, to not be a bigot, but that's a rule that goes without saying for most groups--please know that when you see a so-called "goth" spewing racist bullshit or other kinds of hatred, the rest of us are NOT in agreement with them and want them evicted from our subculture). We love welcoming new people in, and we love seeing the goth scene thriving. It's just that our subculture means a lot to us, and although fashion is a big part of it, it has always truly been about the music. The music came first (watch old videos of 80's goth clubs--hardly anyone there looks recognizable as a goth today!), and it's the backbone of goth. When you call yourself goth, you're telling fellow goths "we like the same kinds of music." I want to get music recommendations from you, dang it, and share some of mine! I've had so many people insult the music I like and tell me my taste is shit, so it's nice to find someone who likes the same sounds and connects with the same lyrics, you know? Music is the strong glue that holds us together and unites us all. It brought us together in the 80's and has kept us together up until now. So when you try to take that away, to mold the goth label into whatever it takes to fit you because you didn't fit it, that's when we've got a problem.

And if you're into the fashion but don't like goth music now, do not despair, because that doesn't mean you'll never be a goth! Give it a listen. Check out different subgenres and bands. You might like what you hear. Synth and EBM were what bridged the gap for me. I started off being super into the fashion, but would be hard-pressed to name a goth band other than Bauhaus or Siouxsie and the Banshees. I was listening to Halloween Vocaloid songs and Lady Gaga, for the most part. I tried a few goth rock songs and didn't like them. And then I found The Birthday Massacre, and suddenly, those goth rock songs didn't sound so bad anymore. They sounded beautiful, atmospheric, ethereal, melancholy in a way you can still dance to. It wasn't long before I was devouring every subgenre of goth music I could get my hands on and making an ever-growing list of bands to check out and songs I liked. I was digging goth music like a grave, and all it took was a band that fit somewhere in the middle of the upbeat, techno dance-worthy music I was used to, the spooky lyrics I liked, and a gothy sound that got me craving more. Sometimes that's all it takes. Goth music is noticeably different from other genres, and hearing the unfamiliar sometimes results in dislike. It's an acquired taste for some, kind of like coffee, but once you get into it, you'll wonder how you even hated it at all in the first place.

Goth is my home, my family, and although I welcome all who show an interest, there's a difference between someone who actually wants to get involved in the subculture and those who wear a mask so they can pretend to be because they like the sound of the label, the allure, how cool it makes them feel, and insist they must be goth and all who tell them otherwise are just elitists. We call those people "poseurs," friend--don't be like them. If goth music just isn't for you, but you love the fashion, that's cool. Just don't call yourself "goth" if you're not a fan of goth music, since that's what the word means in the first place.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

💜 Queer Book Releases Coming Out September 2023

🦇 Trying to read queer all year? Make sure to check out these queer September releases!

❤️ Forget I Told You This by Hilary Zaid 🧡 The Otherwoods by Justine Pucella Winans 💛 The Lonely Book by Meg Grehan 💚 Every Star That Falls by Michael Thomas Ford 💙 Fly With Me by Andie Burke 💜 Wound by Oksana Vasyakina 🖤 Into the Bright Open by Cherie Dimaline ❤️ A Shot in the Dark by Victoria Lee 🧡 Straight Expectations by Callum McSwiggan 💛 Herc by Phoenicia Rogerson 💚 Deephaven by Ethan M. Aldridge 💙 The Mossheart’s Promise by Rebecca Mix

💜 Those Pink Mountain Nights by Jen Ferguson 🖤 The Borrow a Boyfriend Club by Page Powars ❤️ Ryan and Avery by David Levithan 🧡 What Stalks Among Us by Sarah Hollowell 💛 Your Lonely Nights Are Over by Adam Sass 💚 The Meadows by Stephanie Oakes 💙 A Hundred Vicious Turns by Lee Paige O’Brien 💜 Monstrous by Jessica Lewis 🖤 OKPsyche by Anya Johanna DeNiro ❤️ Cursebreakers by Madeleine Nakamura 🧡 The Death I Gave Him by Em X. Liu 💛 Thank You for Sharing by Rachel Runya Katz

💚 You, Again by Kate Goldbeck 💙 Godkiller by Hannah Kaner 💜 The Society for Soulless Girls by Laura Steven 🖤 Mammoths at the Gates by Nghi Vo ❤️ A Market of Dreams and Destiny by Trip Galey 🧡 A Crown So Cursed by L.L. McKinney 💛 In the Ring by Sierra Isley 💚 How to Find a Missing Girl by Victoria Wlosok 💙 This Spells Disaster by Tori Anne Martin 💜 The Free People’s Village by Sim Kern 🖤 Idlewild by James Frankie Thomas ❤️ Glitter and Concrete: A Cultural History of Drag in NYC by Elyssa Maxx Goodman

🧡 Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner 💛 Mall Goth by Kate Leth 💚 The Siren, the Song, and the Spy by Maggie Tokuda Hall 💙 This Dark Descent by Kalyn Josephson 💜 A Nobleman’s Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel by KJ Charles 🖤 The Problem with Gravity by Michelle Mohrweis ❤️ Alex Wise vs. the End of the World by Terry J. Benton-Walker

[madamefeu]

Hi! Here’s what your favorite Helluva Boss character says about you. Once again, don’t take this to heart, it’s just a bit of fun:

Blitzø: You relate a little too hard to Bojack Horseman. You've done a lot of bad things in your life that you bitterly regret, and even though you're trying to be a better person now, you can't escape the feeling that you'll never be able to outrun your past. Regardless of what you did in the past, all you can do is try to be better now, even if you've burned several bridges to a crisp.

Stolas: Sinister gay, life-ruining mean gay. The kind of mean gay who does the most toxic shit to you and then plays the victim when called out.

Stella: Got room for the Jax fans in your little, 'my favorite character got ruined even though they were like that from the start' club? Because you should definitely start making room if you haven’t already. They need it.

Octavia: Your childhood was completely destroyed by your parents' unhappy marriage and subsequent divorce. You can't talk to either of your parents without one of them complaining about the other, and you wish more than anything that you weren't born into a loveless marriage so that you could've had a stable and happy childhood.

Loona: Furry. Need I say more? Because of all of the characters you could've picked, you went for the emo Hellhound. You have a kinky AO3 history and you dream about being stepped on by a goth dommy mommy.

Moxxie: You cling to your significant other because your relationship with them is the only healthy relationship you've ever had in your life. Your family are the worst, and you don't have many friends, on account of the fact that you keep befriending complete and utter jackasses.

Millie: Look, I get it, you love your significant other, and that’s great, but it is ok to have a life outside of them. Get a hobby, or something, IDK.

Fizzarolli: Hurt/comfort is your all-time favorite trope, and you live for romances with happy endings. You dream of finding a rich and powerful man who loves you with all his heart, not because you're a gold-digger, but because you want a classic happy Disney princess ending, and though you haven't found the right man yet, you're certain that you will someday.

Asmodeus: Your significant other thinks that you're way out of their league (And let's face it, you are), despite your repeated attempts to assure them that you love them as they are. Your sex life would make the most hardcore AO3 writer blush like a schoolgirl, and you'd be proud of it.

Beelzebub: Hello, Ke$ha fans! Your favorite music genre is 2010s EDM, and your favorite drink is whatever gets you drunk the fastest. Many people have tried to beat you in a drinking contest, but few have succeeded, and they consider it a great honor, because you have an iron liver, and getting you drunk is no easy task. It's a miracle that you haven't died from alcohol poisoning yet.

Mammon: I know that you've thought about putting $20,000 in a blender, drinking it, and then bragging to everyone that in a few hours, you're going to piss away 20 grand. And for the love of all that is holy, DO NOT DO IT.

Verosika Mayday: You’re still bitter over that one shitty ex of yours, but instead of letting it get you down, you use it as a driving force to become the most successful that you can possibly be. You’re fueled by spite, and you want nothing more than to rub your fame and fortune in the faces of everyone who’s ever wronged you.

Glitz and Glam: You’re a K-pop stan. Like, the most hardcore K-pop stan out there. The kind of K-pop stan that makes other K-pop stans uncomfortable and writes real-person fanfiction about your favorites.

Striker: You have a serious thing for cowboys. I’m talking, Brokeback Mountain is your favorite film, kind of serious. You’re into the brooding, lone ranger type of cowboy.

Andrealphus: You saw him, and you screamed, ‘Elsa birb’. Which, to be fair, that does seem to be what he is. If he gets any songs in the show, you hope that they’ll hit as hard as Let It Go did.

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Summary: Miguel makes a horrible mistake while trying to find the rogue Spider-gang.

A goth!reader x Hobie Brown/ a hint x Miguel too :3c

Reader is pronoun-less but does wear a dress and makeup

Warnings: Violence

Part 1? (Will link to part 2 if I continue this)

It was with some apprehension you peaked round the corner of your door. You'd grown accustomed to Hobie's strange life. In one second and gone the next, with a parade of strange and amazing people needing help.

Some were locals, friends of friends that were down on their luck and needed a sofa to crash on. Other's were... odd. Like the young lady he brought back. Shy at first, with scuffed ballet shoes, an odd costume and sad eyes. She opened up over her time crashing with you, though never with any specifics. Gwen, no last name. An American struggling with her father. The bridge didn't seem burned so you'd often nudge her to try with him, though she brushed those comments off.

She took up drums in Hobie's band and you'd often join them for practice. Sitting drawing on the amps as they played, gently humming along. She became a regular in your home and you loved her like a little sister.

You'd grown very fond of her stories of life across the pond and her little 'friend'. He sounded like an amazing kid, brave, smart, kind. He put you in mind of a certain other kid you'd known as a teen. The crush she had was obvious and you grew to hope she'd be with this boy again soon.

Your own love life was too tragic and you felt vicarious frills though her blushing blustering. You still held a torch for a certain lanky punk living in your guest room. You'd inherited the flat after a grandparent passed and used the space to help your community best you could.

You'd re-met Hobie Brown in a club and were smitten. A mutual friend introduced him as their couch surfer. By the end of the night you were joint at the hip again and he was staying in that empty room.

You loved his addition in your life. He was supportive of your art and helped fend off creeps when you were out. Despite the closeness nothing was ever really said. He'd be all over you one day, then curt the next. Still it was everything to even be his friend... you hoped you were his friend at least.

He'd acted a little off the last couple of days, tense since Gwen had left. You'd suspected it was just lost sleep from taking the sofa while she was here but it lingered.

Then he grumbled to himself about Miles, worrying about the kid. Miles was a name you recognized, Gwen's little crush. Was the kid in trouble? Did he need your help? You'd rounded the sofa, plopping down next to Hobie. The clatter of your jewellery normally heralded your arrival but he jumped at you this time.

"You're keeping an eye out for him right?" You asked, meeting his eyes for the first time in days. The bruised tone the skin took on shocked you. He must really be worried, not sleeping at all by the looks of him.

"Gwen's boy? Right?" You probed again. Hobie's eyes closed, a gentle smile breaking out across his face. In moments like this you remembered his modeling days. God he was gorgeous.

"Course I am." He beamed. You couldn't help but smile back, clapping his shoulder as you stood.

"Good. And you bring him here if he wants, he's always welcome." You added boots clomping back towards your kitchen. You watched his back over the counter as he strode into his room. He looked over his shoulder at the last step, saluting you with two fingers to his temple. Then the door closed, leaving you alone .

For a moment the flat shook, less secure items drifting into the air before clattering back down. You heaved a sigh, shifting to tidy up. He was gone.

For months you both had avoided the topic. He'd given excuses at first but you'd spied the suit under his clothing too often to not know. Still he didn't explain and you couldn't bring yourself to pry. He was spider-man, that much you were sure. Whatever those portal things he and Gwen used were a mystery. You wondered how much he thought you knew sometimes but with the state of the UK at the time you could hardly dwell on things.

It was days again before you saw him, gawking as a whole group of Spider costume clad folk came tumbling out his room. You froze, spoon in mouth at the procession. Still wrapped in a towel, hair soaking from your shower. Spider-folk of all shapes, a baby and... was that a pig?

"Y/n! Hi... um... we...." Gwen fumbled forwards, a tall kid in a black costume trailing after her. You noted their locked hands, one piece of the puzzle coming together for you.

"Miles!" You beamed, swallowing and placing the bowl down. He was taller than you'd expected but the nervous look about him was just as she'd described. You looked the kid over, he was pretty beat up. In fact they all looked worse for wear.

"God Gwen what happened to you lot?" You fretted, turning Miles to get a better look at his scrapes. "Damn let me get the kit." You turned but Hobie caught your hands. He held them, a panicked look written across his face.

"Y/n, I can't explain right now but things are bad, we gotta..." He spoke quickly. Your eyes focused on his hands engulfing your own, he was so close. Sure you'd sat by him before, been pressed up to his chest in crowded pubs and shows but this felt different.

When your eyes darted up to his you noticed the blood trickling from a gash on his brow. The piercing just narrowly escaping the carnage. Your fingers slipped from his hand to hover by the wound.

"The tension!" You heard a boy speak to your left but were too focused on Hobie's serious expression and injury.

You felt your lip tremble a little before the blood drop drifted up. The tell tale shake and gravity change of another portal opening.

"Bathroom now!" You and Hobie barked in unison, coming apart. The Spider-folk, Gwen and him rushing to the door. Miles hesitated to nod to you before being tugged through and the door being slammed.

You fumbled back to your room just in time for the portal opening in your kitchen. You peaked out, a man stood there. Tall, broad and predatory. His eyes darting around the room, locking on the bathroom door.

No!

You stumbled out into the room, hand still gripping your towel, feigning surprise but hiding the fear.

"Oh hey!" You plastered a grin to your face. God you wished you'd have had a minute to get dressed this morning. You had a fair idea who this might be. Gwen and Hobie had complained and joked about this... boss? Miguel, a towering figure with a chip on his shoulder.

"Miguel right?" You engaged again, his attention seemed to have drifted more to you now anyway. He crossed by the bathroom door to stand closer in your living room. "Gimmie just a sec I wasn't expecting anyone yet."

You half shut the door, flinging a loose dress over your body. You couldn't risk leaving him too long in case he went investigating before the others found a way to leave.

Miguel found himself utterly confused at the situation. Sure he'd done a little probing into all the Spider-people he'd allowed into his confidence. You were Y/n, Hobie's MJ, so to speak. He'd only done a brief search, just enough to see you and find out Hobie hadn't told you much. Well so he thought anyway, now you seemed far more clued in.

You seemed too cheerful to really know him properly however. Maybe Hobie was smarter than he'd taken him for and come up with some false life to placate you. He was learning not to underestimate the guy more and more these days.

Miguel eyed photos littering the walls. Mainly of you and Hobie, a few with Gwen, he sneered at them. This punk who'd ruined everything. Miles would have never gotten away without his help, Gwen wouldn't have gotten back to him. Things would've been so much easier if he'd have never asked for his help. How was he to know that this talented Spider would turn out to be such a pain in his ass.

He turned, sensing your return before you popped back into view. The sight stunned him more, not even hearing whatever you were saying. He'd not looked so hard before but now his eyes were glued to you.

In all this time he'd never actually seen you without the heavy goth makeup. Or with your roots showing, a couple of centimeters of true hair colour. How had he not noticed before? Those eyes, he should have seen it sooner. You were the spitting image of his late wife. Just younger and darker dressed.

What a cruel joke the universe was playing on him. Of all the people to get to have you it had to be him. It wasn't fair, he didn't deserve you. Miguel tried to center himself, breathing heavily through his nostrils. God you even smelled the same.

"So... you're Hobie's boss right? He told me all about you, well not all, hardly anything actually... can I get you something?" You rambled, hair dripping onto the light dress.

You were jumping out your skin. Something about his aura was just, threatening? A predator primed to pounce. Then the way his eyes followed you, body stiff and un-moving as he observed you.

Christ you had to keep him stalled here, no telling if they'd made it out yet. Surely they'd have to use the portal thingy right? The strange watch Hobie had started wearing all those months back, right when the strangeness of your life was dialed up.

In an awful moment you spied it on the coffee table. Cursing in your mind you flicked your eyes back to the wall of towering muscle between you and it. He'd relaxed somewhat, eyes still burning into your own but no longer tensed.

Satisfied he wasn't about to pounce you brought the smile back to your lips, raising your brow as if to encourage him to talk. Like there was nothing wrong with having this giant figure dressed in a spider-man costume in your flat.

"Well Hobie's not checked in, worried about him you know?" He spoke, his voice gruff at first until he cleared it. He smiled at the end, an oddly charming look to him.

"Oh?" You hummed trying to make the walk over to the table as casual as possible. You bent gathering a scattering of papers you'd drawn on. You slipped the watch on top, pulling the bundle to your chest. "He seemed fine when he left this morning, sure he's not..."

You froze as you turned, voice catching in your throat as you turned back to a face-full of pecs. You stumbled back, clutching the hard lump to your breast as your breath began to quicken.

Miguel stalked after your retreating form. He'd suddenly become bashful at your bent form, the light linen unbeknownst to you giving him too much of a view of your rear. His eyes had flicked trying desperately to focus on anything else. They'd caught a light red stain on the hem, frowning with concern turned rage as he followed to your fingers on the paper.

A smear of red across it, the copper stink of that punk lingering there. He strode forward stopping short of you. What was he really going to do? He didn't want to threaten you. Still he knew Hobie had been here and recently by the freshness. He had to find out what you knew.

He hated the look of fear that flashed across your face, the way you stumbled over the table leg to back up but he couldn't stop. He stalked closer, matching every step back with his own pursuit. His strides were longer and in a matter of seconds he had you against the kitchen counter.

You stared up at the flaring nostrils, the bared teeth, fangs. A lump in your throat ached, your heart thundering against your chest. Gwen joked about him being a vampire, Count Hard-ass she'd laughed, making fangs of her fingers. It wasn't so funny now.

"Get away from her!" Hobie bellowed, the bathroom door flung clean of it's hinges as he burst out. Miguel whipped round and in that moment you flung the watch to him.

"Run!" You screeched, darting round Miguel in a second to attempt block him.

The sound of the portal opening rung out, the floor rattling worse than ever before. Paper, guitar picks, paints all drifted into the air. You could hear a commotion behind you. Shoes scuffling, pleading but you kept your eyes locked of Miguel.

He watched in a fury as Miles caught the watch and began to try escaping. His path was blocked though, your smaller frame darting in his way, keeping yourself between him and them. Enraged he growled, unwilling to barrel past you, locking eyes with Hobie.

Gwen and that black and white spider-man had him by the arms, attempting to drag him towards the rest of the group. He was pointing out over her head, right at Miguel. His face contorted with a rage he'd never seen on the guy. Still they made there way closer to their exit, Miles and the others already gone.

Miguel tried once more to round you but a pair of small arms wrapped around his waist. You screamed, forcing all your weight against him, desperate to delay him long enough.

Miguel froze, the memories of his you flashing through his mind. Your arms wrapped around him as he made breakfast. Groggy good mornings and kisses, you violently being ripped from him, the hole it'd left. Then the pain all over again when he lost the 2nd chance with you. The very future Hobie would bring you again by helping this anomaly.

He flung you aside and in an instant he realized his mistake, as his clawed hand raked across your face. The screams mixed, your pained screech, Hobie's yell, his own shout. Still it was too late they made it through, Hobie and his eyes still locked on your body as it hit the ground.

You crumpled against the floor, the blood splattering up white wall and against the wooden floor. Then the portal closed and everything fell.

In the sudden silence Miguel stared at your prone body on his knees. He glanced down at the bloodied claw, retracting them in.

"Y/n?" He tried, voice barely audible. He leaned forward into a crawl, shifting closer. How could he have done this, those idiots, if they'd have just listened to him! Why did they have to go dragging you into their mess.

His hand hovered unsteadily over your shoulder, your head lifted. Miguel swallowed hard at the deep scores against your face, just barely missing an eye. This was gonna be fine, he could take you back, the medical help in his world was the best, you'd be fine.

Bleary eyes refocused on his figure, hunkered down over you. You shrieked, scrambling back, hands coming up to clutch your face. You wailed curses at him between tears, begging him to leave.

Miguel rose, still on his knees watching you curl into a tight ball as far as you could get from him. "If you'd just let me..." he began.

"Get out!" You shrieked, a manic tinge to your voice. Miguel's heart sank, a sick feeling in his gut as he stood. He turned, stalking as far away as he could before opening the portal back to HQ. He took one last glance past the spilled paint and broken door. In all his time with different yous, he'd never seen you so afraid. He wanted to reach back out but he knew he couldn't, so he left.

Part 2??????

[preciadosbass]

18/8/24 [4 new CDS + 2 other purchases // draft from yesterday — key + significant photos at end]

woke up at half 7 and got up almost straight away. i said goodmorning to boris first thing, and he was surprisingly inside on the kitchen table today, and not outside on the driveway. i pushed through my tiredness and dressed myself in my sleeping with sirens shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, knee high converse, gray + black striped arm warmers, a studded belt, my taxidermy silver fox tail, my taxidermy scorpion necklace, my diy kellin quinn necklace + the same bracelets as yesterday plus a purple falling in reverse band bracelet. so, a copy of my previous outfit, but with a different shirt.

me and my dad left for the bootsale at 8 after id roughly straightened my hair/put on eyeliner/and said goodbye to boris. literally the first stall we walked past was hosted by three alt people selling various alt [goth, scene] plushies and skirts. i try my best to stay away from so called ‘feminine’ clothing [i say even though i wore a ‘fem’ shirt yesterday. its a shame that it’s not androgynous, but it wouldn’t even look profoundly androgynous on me anyways because i cant bind.] i was too scared to actually go up and pay for one of the scene looking plushies myself so i asked my dad to do it. it’s a bright green bunny thing with one X’d our eye. he was £2 and i think he’s really cute. [photo at end].

we walked around for about 20 minutes until i decided i wanted to go back to the alt stall and see how much this skull + crossbones shirt was. we took a short walk back and when i got there, i realised its actually a skull beanie. which is just as good, as i don’t have any alt specific hats. we asked for the price and it was literally 50p. 50.. P!!! what a bargain 🙂‍↕️ [photo at end] — me and my dad strolled around for quite a while longer, stopping of every now and then while my dad looked through boxes of vinyls. he got 6 good vinyls [according to him] that came together at £5-6. while we looked around, i randomly brought up to my dad that i cant wait until everyone goes back to school so i can rollerblade at our local skatepark. and how i’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard.

funnily enough, the next stall we looked at had four skateboards stacked up on the grass. the guy asked if i was interested and showed me the wheels etc. he explained if you make them looser, you can turn more freely, and things like that. one was broken so he took it away and gave me the chance to decide if i wanted one/and what one i wanted if i do decide on buying one. i decided on a skateboard with cool-ly printed monsters on the back. it also looked in the best condition so that’s convenient. i got it for £2!! [photo at end]. we walked without any more luck for a some time until we came across a new cd stall. [as in, the cds were new]

i looked through what i thought were singles [they were albums, they just didn’t have cases]. while flicking through, i found two good charlotte cds, a blink 182 cd, and a the used cd hidden at the back of the box. i literally could’ve lost it over these finds. [photo at end] it was once again i coincidence something like this happened, as i was just speaking about that i thought i’d come away from the bootsale without any new cds. but i was wrong!! they were also only 50p each which is insane. i cant believe i found the used merch in the wild. after this, we went down one more row/isle and then headed home at 9:30. on the way back i did see another new cd stall, but the cds were £5 each and i didn’t see anything i recognised. i did look at a rancid cd, but decided against it.

i blasted panic! at the disco’s death of a bachelor in the car and arrived home at 9:50. i greeted boris and stayed outside with him for a little while before coming inside to get my bag + jacket to go out again. i used to go to this club, it’s the same organisation that sent me off to that expedition — and after that i never went again. but i decided i might go and see how it is if i go with my sister as there is an alt person there i’m friendly-ish with. i actually might see her tomorrow. she’s a nice person, the problem is i cant trust her and i’m not good around full on/energetic people. i don’t really know how to act or what to do with myself.

while i was waiting to leave, my dad made sure the cat was kept inside just so he’s not out when we’re out, and asked me to do something because his hands were busy. i said i dont know how [because i’ve never been taught what it was, and i thought he’d understand because obviously i’m not in school and it’s not my fault nobody’s showed me] but he started screaming at me and calling me ridiculous. the cat ended up escaping from his grip and running outside. then everyone started arguing. i just sort of stood there, waiting for it to all be over. we finally got out of the door after my mum had screamed at me over and over again. it was one of the worst arguments i’ve witnessed in ages.

and me, my mum, and my sister walked across the driveway to the car. on the way there, i said ‘everyone is ridiculous’ [which i shouldn’t have said, just in the moment everyone was having a go at me and i was already terrified to go back to somewhere that’s given me so much trauma. everyone has been screaming for ages.] then my mum lost it. she said we couldn’t go anymore and she made boris run away. i sobbed for around two hours because i was scared he’d gone across the road and into the woods. i was also beside myself because i knew that it’s my fault he got so scared. i shouldn’t have been so ignorant and said that knowing everyone’s mad. i just didn’t expect my mum to go as crazy as she did and shove me inside and into the kitchen counters/go to hurt me even more.

i told her she scared the cat and he’s gone missing but she grabbed me and shouted ‘i don’t care. i really don’t care anymore, ___.’ i stood behind the front door, looking through the window part to see if he’d come out and then stood on the doorstep to see if he’d come to me. then my mum slammed the door and locked me out. no matter what i did, he wouldn’t come out. my dad saw this and let me in, but he [my dad] was still acting weird. my dad said i should go somewhere else in house, because he could not be coming out because he can see me through the door and thinks i’m going to try and get him inside again.

i did and came back outside when i heard the news that he’d come back onto the driveway/was calm. i sat outside with him, still crying — and my dad saw me through the door. he tried speaking to me about what happened but it ended up being a disagreement. he came back inside and i stayed cuddling boris. i apologised for everything that happened, even though he cant really understand what i say to him. he does understand ‘your my bestfriend’ and ‘i love you so so so so much’ though, because he knows i’m going to give him treats afterwards. i was with him for as long as i could until my parents changed their minds about keeping me from the rest of my family and not meeting up for the barbecue arranged.

but obviously i was already upset about it because i couldn’t go to something that id already had in my head that’s going to happen/prevented my sister from going because i said something stupid/i was again, being isolated from the rest of my family. i said i don’t know what i want to do but we ended up going. which is secretly what i wanted because i wanted to be cheered up by someone. we left at exactly 3 and i listened to the used + mcr’s ’under pressure’ cover on the way there. when we arrived, i didn’t speak to anyone and just had some crackers because one of my cousin’s girlfriend was there and i’m intimidated by her. i don’t like how she acts considering she hasn’t been ‘in the family’ for long at all. although it’s bad for me to judge her as i don’t know her, she just does act really iffy.

her son is okay though, he’s slightly less shy than me, and is usually just there, if that makes sense. while i people watched/listened, my sister was using her nunchucks to hit a tennis ball that she was calling people up to throw for her. she ended up whacking the ball into the bush separating my aunts house and her neighbour’s garden. the same cousin i just mentioned got out a ladder and tried finding it. while they [him, my sister, and my dad] did, they came across a cat inside the bush. it must’ve been the neighbours and was just sitting inside, looking through these bar things. [photo at end] it was really sweet looking but must’ve been scared of strangers because it went to scratch me when i gave it my hand to sniff.

or maybe it didn’t like the smell of crackers. i watched it for a while because i was missing boris. another one of my cousin’s fiancé’s mums is really wealthy and just buys random stuff for my cousin/his fiancé. [i know it’s rude to call someone wealthy or something but everyone else does, because she is, and admits it — and i don’t necessarily mean it in a bad way.] anyway, back to what i was saying. because of this, my cousin just gets gifted things and a few of the things in question are still round my aunts house from before he moved out. one of these things is a large swing-seat thing. i had a go of it and ended up sleeping for 2+ hours lolll. it was really so comfy. after waking up, i tried speaking to my dad [it didn’t really work, we’re both bad socialisers.] i once again, people watched until 8:20 when we left for home. i said my goodbyes to everyone and got into the car to listen to frank iero.

when home, i was with boris on and off [while sorting through my weekly recap draft] until 11:40 when i copied one of my journals into this youth website thingy. basically, while i was doing my hair earlier, my sister mentioned that she does this thing run by the council and gets payed at least £20 for answering questions/doing activities listed. id never heard about this before and my mum also brought up something about a diary being one of the requirements so i asked if i could do it aswell. i’m running out of money even though compared to my sister i’m very mature with it, so at 12 i did that and submitted my journal, it was from wednesday this week. i also kinda just did it for fun because the youth council thing, whatever it was, wanted an idea of what teenagers do in a day.

then at 12:30, i asked my parents questions about boris. for once my mum didn’t get in an argument with me [this sounds rude, i just don’t know how to word it.] and i finished just 10-15 minutes later which is revolutionary for me. i forced myself to be quick because i knew my mum would get mad over my panic, but i was stressed over them [the questions] not making sure boris would be okay in the morning. i came downstairs, did a bit of my journal, and had naps on and off until 1:40. i didn’t intend to even have a nap, but i knew i’d fall asleep while saying goodnight to boris/without saying goodnight to him otherwise.

i brought out my plushie and cds to show him, and forgot to take my skull beanie/didn’t carry my skateboard out into the kitchen because i wouldn’t have been able to signal with my hands that i love him if i did. i finished at 2:40 and got into bed at around the same time. before i slept, boris came into my room again and explored the underneath of my bed. i went to sleep at 3.

🗝️ — boris/my cat, questions [about boris]/i ask my parents questions about my cat to verify he’s okay + will be okay in the morning. its a compulsive thing and i’m hopefully going to be tested for OCD in the future.

have a good day/night O_o

[rivetgoth]

(Same anon as before) initially I followed you because you were shit talking other people's insufficient experience with music and going to clubs. I am also a little insane about music, so I could relate to some things you said. You talk (or used to, at least) about online goths, about people who understand being goth wrong, that sort of stuff.

Later on you started occasionally shit talking trans men who want to talk about their oppression too, and it was less good to look at, because I'm a trans man from a country that criminalized queerness. But I don't unfollow you for the sake of music posts nevertheless. And if I do unfollow you eventually, it won't be because of your views or mannerisms.

Well I’m glad you generally like my content, but I think you’ve kinda misinterpreted my tone a decent number of times. I might have been more brash when I was a bit younger but I think I’ve chilled out a lot over the past few years haha. When I talk about people who aren’t as experienced with music or clubbing or subculture it’s ALWAYS with the hope of people GAINING that experience. I’m deeply passionate about these things so I truly want to see them recognized more. I’ve totally had times where I get frustrated and meaner lmao, again I’m not a saint, but it’s usually when I feel that people are propagating genuinely harmful views. And even then I’m not trying to put anyone into a state of distress, I’m frustrated that someone’s ignorance could lead to the spreading of what I find to be toxic mindsets.

As for the trans men’s oppression thing… honestly, I don’t even really want to get into that, but I think you’ve been kind of willfully ignorant if you think I have EVER “talked shit on trans men wanting to talk about their oppression” lmao. Not only do I think that’s a really obtuse thing to accuse me of, but as a trans man myself I’ve been an extremely vocal proponent of trans men’s rights, struggles, and experiences. I’ve consistently shared links to studies, offered my own time and energy to share information. I’ve talked about transition timelines, shared info on how to acquire needles, talked about different experiences with surgeries, with dysphoria, with binary vs nonbinary identity, sex education and sexual health, I’ve shared informative posts about trans men in history, anti-trans legislation, medical studies, trans men who’ve literally lost their lives due to transphobia… I’ve probably brought up the sort of thing you’re alluding to (transandrophobia discourse, I imagine) like half a dozen times at most and every single time has been criticizing a certain type of trans man who weaponizes his experiences against trans women, supports bioessentialist rhetoric, or denies or downplays the existence of transmisogyny (ntm actively propagates it). To be blunt if you’ve been following me as closely as you claim and have seen my countless posts sharing experiences and resources as a trans man with the purpose of educating others and your takeaway is that I’m a dick because I’ve made a handful of posts criticizing other trans men’s behavior in regards to a specific area of discourse I think you may have some reflecting to do.

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Everyone talks about how funny it is that the what the girlfriends are public figures and I totally agree but you know what people don't mention? Jonah Magnus is a historical figure.

If nothing more he created a "club of gentleman" involving famous architet Robert Smith and no one can convince me he didn't write pretencious texts about fear and religion and mythology and possibly some real accounts people think are short horror stories. He is the prentencious goth nerd teen favorite obscure gothic gay. I don't care. The Eye teaches Elias to use the internet and he can't avoid finding Tumblr blogs about his gay ass letters.

Correction: I was informed that Jonah didn't create the club he was just a member. I maintain that he would still be a historical figure in the TMA universe, but still important to clarify so I'm not spreading missinformation in the fandom.

[st-armand]

Dancefloor Divination

( Reposted from @armands-sanctum ) Summary: Hobie meets you at a club he's going to for the first time, amongst a sea of dazed partiers

Authors Note: Ye asked and ye shall receive. Theres a lot imagery I LOVE to use like planets. Content Warnings: Suggestive and sensual dancing, description of bodies, revealing clothing, fem reader, explicit language, Black!Reader, reader wears a wig (?) (Sorry guys I wear wigs and that’s the only hair I can write rn, also I never see any representation for wig wearers and Hobie, and baby I wear luxurious bundles), bad british slang but I always take criticism and pointers.

Masterlist

Hobie doesn’t often go to dance clubs, he prefers his underground rock shows, or grungy basements filled with listeners thrashing about each other in unison. But that doesn’t mean he shits on clubs, he enjoys all genres, especially by black artists and he’s always down to give anything a listen once or twice.

In this instance, one of Hobie’s bandmates’ partner was desperate to go out, and since they couldn’t find anyone else to accompany them, the band decided to join, plus it would be a change of pace for them all.

Spending an hour ‘pregaming’ (He didn’t know that was a thing usually getting shitfaced at a pub or bar he never thought to get piss drunk before going out,) with his mates and their significant others, smoking up Hobie’s apartment, (He’s always the designated host, always welcoming his peers into his home, no matter the occurrence, and he has piles of clothing from and for his friends so they can comfortably exist in the space.) animated laughs and hushed whispers of gossip echo through its brick walls, garments thrown about as everyone deliberates their outfits.

But the real party begins when they arrive at the nightclub. Encompassed by neon lights and tinted glass, the deeply reverberating bass rocking the concrete below their feet and ringing in their ears. This alone causes Hobie’s blood to rush in his veins, he’s feeling very excited and is only spurred on by the gaggles of people waiting in line and loitering outside the joint, many in awe at the punks, despite it being a normal fashion style in their world, the club goers don’t often get punks at their venues, maybe the occasional goth, especially cyber goths.

Most people are more concerned with entering the venue on time to reach their friends, others are on the prowl for a late night conquest and a sultry dance partner for the rest of the night, flocking to the few single members of the band, like Hobie, similar to moths to a hot and bright flame.

“Hey sexy lemme take you home tonight,” “Looking so damn fine tonight baby…”

But amongst adoring, screaming, fainting fans at his shows, and intriguing invitations for ending the night to end in a cosmic collision of passion, Hobie was in his element, a super-giant compared to the smaller stars around him, they all revolved in unison, and science knows that those with the most gravitational pulls crush all underneath their force.

At the recognition Hobie pulls on his impish smirk, letting his tongue hook into his lip piercing, languidly swiping his tongue over his full lips.

“One at a ‘ime, don’t crowd, yea?”“ You’ll all ‘et a piece of me soon, I promise”

Hobie loves the attention, he is innately cool, but his look and presence was something he had to create with time, his mask was the anchor to the role of spiderman—the seabond vessel, keeping him grounded against the turbulent waters of life, Hobie himself being the captain.

Despite loving the attention and basking in the crowd, he is very particular about the people he allows in his life, watching others with a keen eye.

He may seem overbearing, aloof, and boisterous, he takes on these roles to adapt to the environments he’s in, but Hobie always keeps his best cards last, and close to his chest, the type of person to step in and defend the helpless, but let his adversaries tear each other to shreds.

But as all the conversations, the music, and Hobie’s thoughts settles into the space, a car pulls up onto the curb of the sidewalk, crunching the loose pavement underneath its tires. Hobie glances in the direction of the sleek black car, a group of confident young adults leaving the vehicle. Their strides are self-assured, a practiced strut around the car, and onto the sidewalk.

But amongst them all is you, another super-giant celestial entering the interstellar fray of the nightlife, you radiate an authority that rivals his.

Apathetic expression, lidded eyes, pristinely styled hair tickling your back, exposed in the most tormenting way, by the skin tight midnight black dress, strings of pearls anchoring the dress to your body. Hobie is intrigued, but his curiosity is broken as he’s being ushered into the club.

He also doesn’t mind shamelessly swiveling his head to get a last look, as you and your friends advance into the venue without a breath in the direction of the line. The inside of the club was filled with moving bodies in every foreseeable crevice, a hand on his shoulder guides him to the space his mates have decided to occupy, a standing table.

Your scent has heads whipping in your direction, gracing them with your domineering presence, the crowds of people part like the Red Sea for Moses—like it’s god’s will for them to make space for you all like an assembly of dance club diviners.

You seem disinterested in the acts of the others around you, in their drunken and high hazes, senses melding into each other in a cocktail of euphoria.

Hobie’s dark eyes lose your form amongst the animated crowd, when he does start to get a clearer image of your body and hair in the crowd as you make your way to the dancefloor. Your hips bumping and rolling in rhythmic movements.

You and your friends crowd around each other, playfully grabbing and dancing with each other, hands lingering on each other’s forms, with giggles and laughs that roll your head back.

Hobie is enthralled at the way your neck lolls to the side, your hair rustling from the nape your neck to the bottom of your hips.

Amongst the rest of the rest of the crowd, who is equally as fascinated by the group dancing, they allow more space for the lights on the ceiling to fully illuminate their features.

With the oceanic mob of bodies, limbs and hips moving in tandem to each other to the music, not in complete sync, but enough to feel an overwhelming sense of understanding with your peers amongst the music, breathing ragged, figures moving, grinding, swaying, rocking.

And with them, you look like a prophet, amongst her people, guiding them through a sacramental disco.

He wants to join the ritual too, and be led by your body in the midst of the haze.

He departs from the table with his friends with an, “Oy ‘m leavin’ gunna go check out the dancefloor”

He lets his body guide him, swaying lightly to the tempo (He can’t dance, but he knows how to work his body a bit). He approaches slowly, letting the wave of people direct him to the center to find you. The closer he gets to your back, one of your friends excitedly gestures her hands ‘behind you, BUT don’t look’ and whispers, “Sexy roguish guy approaching you at 6 o’clock”

The whole group buzzes with excitement, and you all increase the authority behind your movements, sultrier, more enticing, a spectacle of your splendor. If one friend found a dance partner, the others will too, keeping a close distance to each friend, and to make sure no creeps slide in between dance partners.

You let Hobie descend onto you, you’ve already been given the heads up, a brush of hair teases your neck and the side of your face, before a glint of metal grazes your ear as Hobie leans to whisper,

“Hope you don’ mind me sliding in here real quick?”

He asks you genuinely making sure you’re interested in dance with him, you cheekily turn your body to face him, letting your hair fall to one side of your shoulder.

You take his countenance in, tall, dark skinned, and gorgeous, eyes holding an immeasurable depth to its warmth, you could easily drown in, and impish smirk on his face, full lips with a ring that scuffed your ear prior.

Hobie stands at full attention, looking down at you in all his mischievous punk brilliance, looking at you expectantly and considerately.

Your words fail you, but that’s fine, your mask is still unbreakable, this is your domain, and you live amongst it with ease, evolved to be fully adapted to your environment.

You flash a smile that allows for a chaste peak at your canines, turning back into your regular position to dance, and letting Hobie’s hands slot your bodies together.

Now you’re no dancer (unless you are) but dancing like this with a man that looks as good as Hobie, you NEED to slow it down, you want him to feel every inch of your body grinding against him with the music, you do just that.

Hobie’s hands glide their way along your hips, holding the fat of your thighs tightly, drawing your closer to his lower half.

Your hips roll in against his front, ticking them every so often to snares or high hats just to throw him off, which results in a deep rumbled laugh bubbling in his chest that reverberates through your body, causing you to smile widely.

Hobie is inebriated off the impression of your body, and the languid circles your small waist whines in, the way your skin and the contrast of the fabric of your outfit feels drives him to senselessness, the second-hand high and lingers of alcohol on his tongue consume his senses, and his reserves.

Hobie takes a gentle hand to scoop a handful of your long tresses, twirling them at its ends to drape the bundles away from your back so he has an unobstructed view of the bare skin, you tense at the feeling, alarmed that he is touching your hair.

"Don' worry luv, 'm being careful, don't want ya hair getting ruined right beautiful?”

“Garms makin’ you look too good”"I'll be gentle wit' ya, be real sweet on you too."

The other hand moves from your hips to your waist, urging you to move faster, grind harder, to take him faster to his breaking point, eyes pried to the shape of your muscles constrict and releasing with every movement, a sheen of sweat covering the exposed skin from the heady, steamy air.

His lithe fingers cloak your flesh, finding exhilaration in gripping your body as he pleases, moving you just how he wants along his body, and you make no contests to letting him lead your figure as he saw fit, melding into each other’s form.

Your friends acknowledge the sensual dance between you and Hobie, cheering you on and sharing knowing giggles between dancing with their own partners.

“Go bestie!”“Ooh~ You’re enjoying yourself huh?”“That’s my bestie dancing on a fine ass guy”

The longer the dance goes, as songs change, the dance between the two of you grows heavier, lingering caresses, soft whines, hushed whispers “Movin’ so sexy f’ me”“Look s’ good whining on me like that,”“Can I dance wit’ ya for the rest of the night?”

With time as the two of you are absorbed in each other, the club occupants dwindle and trickle out of the party.

You and Hobie cease your dancing soon to regroup with your respective friends, but the tension is lingering, even your friends notice this, so they linger back with each other, the parties colliding into fits of laughter, and conversations of their two peers who seem to be magnetized to each other.

Your groups walk to the exit and onto the pavement, legs sore, heels abandoned and nestled into bags and arms, complaints for water and food, Hobie turns you to flashing another smile, his lip ring reflecting the neon nights and the purple hue of dawn approaching in a few hours.

“Wanna spend the rest of the night with us, me even?”