#youth of today band

[music-fan]

Motivational punk

I won't sit around all day cause life means more to me

Wake up and live

So many kids content to sleep their lives away

But I'm gona try to make the most out of every day

Each day, wake up and live

It takes some motivation It takes some love for life

I won't sit around all day and let my life pass you by

PT: wake up and live

(genre tags source)

[possible-streetwear]

[equalvision]

Today at Furnace Fest:

Thursday at 7:05pm (Baked Brothers Stage)

Youth Of Today at 7:50pm (Plug Your Holes Stage)

Gorilla Biscuits at 8:55pm (Plug Your Holes Stage) (EVR adjacent - CIV was on the label)

Who are we seeing there?

[mishkakagehishka]

I hope my mother's watching, too. This all sounds like the music she showed me when she was telling me about the blorbos of her youth

[thefiresofpompeii]

i don’t wanna. . . i don’t think so…..!!

[milksuu]

Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel

Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader

Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)

Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language

Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”

Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.

[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]

“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”

“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers. 

“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”

You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors. 

“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”

“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”

You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.

YONE

RIOT RECORDS

DJ / PRODUCER

 EMAIL: yone123@riotstudios.com

TELEPHONE:  XXX-XXX-XXXX

“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”

“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:

‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’

The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his  protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:

‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’

“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.” 

“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.” 

You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.

“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”

Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place. 

“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”

You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”

“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.” 

“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”

Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"

Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.

“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.” 

The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.

The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.

Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest. 

But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.

Penis (en)counter: 1

While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute. 

“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.” 

“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.

With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.

“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”

“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.

The image would be forever burned in your mind.

You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.

Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.

But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn. 

“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”

There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.

‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’

“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”

Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps. 

‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’

“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”

Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.

When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness. 

At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”

“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”

“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”

As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.

These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.

“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.” 

With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”

Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.

Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool. 

“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too. 

Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.

He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.” 

Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.

Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”

W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.

A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.

Penis (en)counter: 2

“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”

Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.

Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.

What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.  

Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”

Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”

Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.

You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:

‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’

With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.

He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”

The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite. 

“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.

Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”

As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.

“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.” 

Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.

an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. <3

[billskeis]

ᡣ𐭩 bus shenanigans w bill

it was mid day into the summer where you and the band were on world tour, travelling from place to place as the exhausting schedules had you all working to the bone.

of course, as part of their management team, you did everything in your power to keep the band in check.

water? done. snacks? already given. towels? passed around.

not to mention, the constant words of affirmation and reassurance that everything will be okay.

you were their escape of solace in the midst of youthful chaos.

“tomtom! where’s bill? i don’t think i’ve seen him at all today,” you pout.

“hmph, little cunt must still be sleeping. you know how he gets on tour,”

that’s right. when given the day off bill will not do anything but sleep. sleep until late evening, as unhealthy as it is, you understand from a rockstar point of view.

“ah.. okay! ‘m gonna go check up on him, see if he needs anything.”

“i don’t think that’s a good idea y/n,”

“huh?”

“ask georg or gustav, whenever we bother him during his nap time he throws a fit. gets all moody nd shit,”

“i find that hard to believe,” you cross your arms.

“alright, go see for yourself,”

“y’know what i will!”

tom clicks his tongue and sips on his coke, smirking as your figure disappears from within the bus foyer to go to where bill’s bunk was.

since you made it your mission to prove tom wrong due to your stubborn persona, it was only natural that you went to go see bill. little did you know about what bill had in store for you specifically if you had woken him.

“you’re in deep trouble, y/n.”

as you open the door to the even more cramped space, you see a figure adorned in all black under the thin fabric of a blanket covering the figure.

his body moves up and down as he breaths. sound asleep eh? you make small tip-toed steps towards the bunk bed.

“billy..? you sleeping in?”

you sit down on the hard mattress and couch under to fit yourself within the tiny space. patting bill’s still body, you attempt to wake him up.

“c’monnn you gotta wake up half the day is over and we have stuff to do—”

everything happened in a flash you don’t even know how you ended up in such a position.

bill is on top of you.

THE bill fucking kaulitz has you pinned down on the bunk bed. the grip he has on each of your wrists tighten and you wince at the pain. you don’t remember bill ever being that strong but he has been working out a bit more for their comeback.

his locs fall a down to tickle your cheeks. he looks down at you, pitiful. eyelids lowered as he gazes into yours with absolute darkness and lust. you feel yourself getting hot.

what the hell did you get yourself into?

“y/n. i was napping.”

“i-i know, but i figured that we have a lot on our plate we needed our lead singer,”

“did you? or did you wanna just come here and bother me because you just wanted to see me, hm?”

“u-um..”

he leans his face closer to yours, eyes never breaking contact as he slightly grins. he enjoys how worked out and shy you’re getting as you begin to get the cold sweats, shaking a bit.

“oh you little slut, you’re in big trouble now schatzi,”

bill begins to claw at your pants to take them off, thank god you didn’t wear anything that had any buttons or zippers because he would get so frustrated he’d rip the whole thing off of you.

“bill! there’s people on the b-bus..!”

“and? you were warned,”

“s-stop, please..”

“betcha tom already warned ya, but your pretty little head thought it was okay anyway..”

with the undressing of your pants came with your panties, that hid how coated your cunt was with slick.

truthfully and shamelessly, you were turned the fuck on.

bill wastes no time as he freed his hardened cock from his pyjama pants, already leaking with precum. as he rubs the tip up and down your slit, you whine at how sensitive you were. bill knew how to rile you up sensually or not, and it drove you nuts.

“please..”

“hmmm? can’t hear you mein maus.. gonna have to speak up.”

“please..! j-just get it over with—ah!”

you yelp at the sudden thrust of bill’s cock into your entrance. already balls deep, bill cannot help but let out a wanton moan as you clasp one of your hands on his mouth.

“fuuuck you drive me nuts..”

“q-quiet..!”

he licks at your hand playfully to which you immediately pull it away.

“b-bill!?”

chuckling, a smile is plastered on bill’s face as he sheaths his cock in and out of your pussy slowly.

“mm.. you’re so warm nd tight,” he moans as he uses both hands to caress the curves of your waist, hands exploring what’s his. he needed you, and craved you.

hey, at least he’s awake now.

bracing yourself, both his hands stop all movements as they now hold onto your waist tightly. with rhythmic thrusts, bill keeps a steady pace fucking into you as if it were his last time to.

he’s in a frenzy. bill cannot stop moving his hips. the loud squelching of how wet and slick your cunt furthered this need to fuck you into an oblivion.

bill doesn’t hear your pleads to ‘s-stop!’ or ‘slow down..’ he doesn’t notice the pool of cum and squirt mixed between where the two of you were joined on the bed sheets growing. he doesn’t notice your cunt tightening by the second and how you’ve already came.

words fall onto dead ears, your now babbling for him to stop as the pressure of his cock in your cunt makes pushes you further into ecstasy.

“b-billy! a-ah! i already came! i know now not to wake you up s-so p-pleaseeepleasepleaseplease slow down—ungggghhh..!” you attempt to whisper, but they come out as quiet screams instead.

as he snaps out of it, he takes a good look down at your body on top of him, eyes widening for a second but never stilling his movements.

“f-fuck y/n.. look at you, such a whore f’me.. me, and me only..”

“i—ugh—i can’t do this anymore.. they’re gonna hear us..,”

“pft, whatever. let them hear how much of a slut you become for my cock. you deserve this.”

you just want this to end. with a pussy all sore and sensitive from how big bill is, not to mention how with each thrust bill’s cock hits your cervix balls deep, you’re bound to not walk the next day.

bill places a kiss on your mouth, tongue assaulting every nook and cranny of your mouth as you try to keep up with him.

as his mouth leaves yours, you attempt to catch a breath from not only him kissing you but how his tip hits your g spot every single time he presses his dick into you.

“h-hahh.. bill..” you wrap your arms around his neck.

“mein schatz.. these visits better become a daily thing, wanna punish you over and over again till’ you pass out from how good i fuck you.”

georg walks into the shaking tour bus with gustav after their smoke break.

tom is sitting on the couch eating his skittles and watching the small television propped up on one of the bus walls.

“didn’t you warn her?” georg asks as he hands tom back his lighter.

your moans can be heard from the opposite side of the bus. seems as though you stopped caring about the noise.

“i did, holy shit they been at it for like an hour now..”

“EW GUSTAV YOU’RE HARD.”

“shut the fuck up.” as he covers his lap with a pillow.

[browngirl-inthering]

decade accurate marauders era wardrobes - sirius black

hair: black, wavy, and shoulder length.

while long hair for both women and men was popular in the 70s, the trend carried over from the later years of the 60s.

the 1960s was a decade characterized by youth rebellion and societal revolution. the decade was rife with countercultural movements such as racial equality, women's liberation, and queer rights. pushed largely by baby boomers, the young people of the 60s rejected the conservative values of their parents and the generations before them and instead valued equality, individuality, and self-expression. these values inspired the fashion of the 60s, which is why later 60s fashion trends consist of brighter colors, shorter hemlines, non-western influences, and long hair on men.

i'm not sure if sirius having long hair while he was younger is canon, but even if not it makes sense for his character. sirius practically embodies the larger societal reckonings of the time as he struggles with separating himself from his long, bigoted family history and subverts the expectations for him by actively fighting against it and carving out his own self image free from his familial legacy.

clothes: consist mainly of blacks, purples, reds, and silvers. leather, velvet, furs, and fishnets. ripped tops, colored pants, slogan tees, and a copious amount of band t-shirts.

glam rock is a british fashion subculture that emerged in the early 70s and was pioneered by various musicians such as marc bolan and david bowie. glam rock fashion allowed participants to play with gender norms with the men wearing typically "flamboyant" feminine clothing made with velvets, silks, furs, and glitter.

punk rock is also a british fashion subculture that came about in the mid 70. although having its roots in glam rock, punk rock visually seems like the exact opposite with its fashion pieces consisting of leather pants and jackets, combat boots, altered t-shirts, and body modifications such as tattoos and piercings.

for the longest time i haven't been able to choose between whether i think sirius would dress glam or punk. i think he'd like certain elements of both so i tried my best to combine them together.

he'd love t-shirts. they seem common today but before the 60s they were worn as underwear. during this decade t-shirt printing became easier and more accessible, and thus began the trend that was the slogan tee. you could get t-shirts with almost anything printed on them, short phrases, crude jokes, and band logos.

shoes: platform shoes, combat boots, and converse.

platforms platforms platforms

combat boots, specifically doc martens, were a staple in punk fashion

the converse are for casual wear

accessories: motorcycle gloves, star shaped belt buckle, buttons, patches, and sunglasses.

i couldn't find any good pictures or an actual belt that i liked but i feel sirius would love statement belts with a big buckle that has some sort of design on it

the patches and pins are for his infamous leather jacket™ i'm pretty sure his leather jacket isn't canon but it might as well be anyways 🤷🏿‍♀️

[steddieas-shegoes]

It’s not that Steve didn’t want a tattoo.

He’d wanted one for years. Just something to piss off his parents the way they pissed him off constantly.

Asking when he’d find a girlfriend (he wouldn’t, he’s gay), when he’d find a better job (he liked his job as a guidance counselor), when he’d move out of the tiny apartment he shared with that girl who couldn’t give them grandchildren (Robin gagged at the mere thought of any of that).

But Robin promised she’d go with him when he made this appointment a month ago and she’d just cancelled at the last minute. Something about a work emergency.

She didn’t have a work emergency. She worked at a Starbucks.

He knew what she was doing. It’s what she always did.

“I just wanna get you out of your shell! People should see the Steve that I see!”

Robin did get a different version of Steve, one that didn’t feel like he had to hide his surprisingly bubbly personality. His students got a calm, kind counselor. But everyone else?

They’d be lucky to get a smile during a conversation.

He wasn’t, like, an asshole.

He just had asshole tendencies.

Robin called him her Oscar The Grouch.

He allowed it because deep down, he knew it was true.

And now he was even MORE grumpy because he had to get this tattoo alone. In a place he’d almost certainly be the outcast in his glasses and business casual attire. With people judging him for not already having tattoos and piercings at the age of 27.

Robin owed him.

When he walked into the shop, he was surprised to hear classic rock instead of heavy metal. The front counter was covered in pictures of bands Steve didn’t know, tattoos he would never get, and signs that had enough vulgar words to fill up the swear jar he kept in the apartment for shits and giggles.

Nervous was an understatement.

A head popped around the corner, bright smile lighting up the face of a man who looked like he belonged here.

“Be right there!”

Steve didn’t bother to say anything because as soon as he started to respond, the head was gone.

He frowned, but figured the guy might be with another client and he was pretty sure they had rules about touching things with their gloves on. At least, he hoped they did.

He stared down at the picture on his phone.

It was small, simple. Something he wouldn’t even have to cover up at work.

One of his students drew it for him last year when he’d missed some work because of the flu. He’d only missed two days, but because he so rarely missed, his regulars were pretty worried about him.

His regulars being three students who sat with him during their lunch period to avoid bullies.

It was a sun, with beautiful yellows and oranges combining into a near perfect circle, small lines randomly jutting out and fading into nothing.

It was beautiful art.

And he was getting it permanently etched onto his body.

He loved his students, what could he say?

The head popped back around the corner, interrupting his thoughts again.

“Sorry for the wait. I had a customer on the phone. How can I help ya?”

“Steve Harrington. Here for a 6:00 appointment?”

The guy beamed at him, nodding along.

“Perfect! You said you already knew what you wanted?”

Steve held up his phone to show this still nameless guy the picture.

“You want the colors like that?”

“If you can.”

“If I can, he says! Of course I can! This is really nice. Did you make this?”

Steve snorted, but he wasn’t that amused. This guy was like a ball of energy and Steve was already exhausted.

“No. One of my students did.”

“Oh, are you a teacher?”

“Guidance counselor.”

“That’s cool! So you, like, make sure the youths of today are on the right path? Keep them interested in the right things?”

Steve blinked at this man.

“I guess, yeah. So can we uh, get started…”

“Oh shit! I always forget to introduce myself to the newbies. Eddie.” He held out his hand towards Steve to shake. Steve stared down at it for a moment, knowing his face was doing that judgy thing Robin always warned him about, but not being able to stop it. “Not a handshake guy?”

Steve cleared his throat, finally reaching his hand up to shake Eddie’s.

The rings on Eddie’s fingers were cold against his own, his grip was strong but not the type of string that made Steve uncomfortable.

Eddie was smiling at him. He never stopped smiling, this guy.

It was kind of…cute. Steve would never admit it to anyone, but the way Eddie just seemed genuinely happy was really doing it for him.

That was annoying.

When he finally remember to let go, Eddie was already turning around to grab a piece of paper from the shelf behind him.

“I’m just gonna have you send that to this email,” he pointed to the contact info on the piece of paper he’d grabbed. “And I’ll get it printed on transfer paper so we can get started.”

Steve nodded and sent the picture as requested.

He ignored the shaking of his hands. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s just a tattoo. Most adults have them. Robin had four. Eddie here seemed to have hundreds.

Eddie must have noticed his visible anxiety. He felt Eddie’s hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

“First tattoo?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Nah. I’ve just done a lot of first tattoos.” Eddie pulled up the picture on his own phone while he spoke. “I promise it’ll be easier than you’re thinking.”

“I’m not worried about the pain.”

Eddie glanced up at him quickly, then back down at the phone in his hand.

“It’s just permanent, ya know?”

Eddie let out a laugh and held up both of his arms, fully covered in tattoos.

“I know. That’s what’s great. Nothing in life is permanent, but these are. Even when you’re long gone, these will still be on your body.”

Steve hadn’t thought about it like that.

Permanence was something he’d always struggled with. It’s why he was so standoffish according to the two therapists he’d tried talking to. His parents had never given him an idea of what someone staying around was like, his friendships all ended when he realized he wanted to be a better person than they were capable of being, and his only serious relationship ended when he was ready for marriage and she wasn’t.

He’d been through a lot of personal growth since then, most of it thanks to Robin and some experiences at the gay clubs she took him to, and now he felt better about who he was.

He just didn’t think anyone or anything would stick around.

Robin was proving she might, but only time would tell. Plenty of time for Steve to fuck it up.

“You can still back out, man. I won’t charge you the cancellation fee or anything.”

Oh, how nice. Eddie thought he was a wimp and wasn’t even gonna follow his own policy to let him back out.

That’s shameful. He was ashamed.

“Not backing out.”

He folded his arms in front of his chest, trying to tone down the glare he could feel on his own face.

Eddie threw his hands up as he waited for the printer to finish.

“Alright. Just letting you have an out.”

Eddie looked over the few copies he’d printed, all slightly different sizes, and then lined them up on the counter facing Steve.

“What size were you thinking? Where’s this going?”

Steve pointed to the middle one, barely an inch wide.

“I was thinking my wrist?”

Eddie smiled at him.

“Sounds good, sunshine.”

Oh. That was not good.

That little thing his stomach just did?

Nope. Not good at all.

Eddie walked around the counter and gestured for Steve to follow him around the corner.

Steve found himself in awe of the room he was walking into.

He’d never seen such variety in anything. Some of it resembled the front counter, but there was also a Bob Marley poster, a rainbow flag, a whole wall of funny bumper stickers, and graffiti along the ceiling.

It was certainly a lot for the eyes to take in.

Steve kind of loved it.

He even let out a smile.

He quickly hid it away again when he heard Eddie hit his hand against the chair.

“Got it all clean already for ya. Just take a seat and get comfy.” Eddie reached over grab some gloves from a shelf before he sat in front of Steve. “Gonna put this on you first. Make sure the placement is good. Then I’ll shave that area and get all my stuff ready to go. The tattoo itself probably won’t take more than an hour, and most of that will be shading these beautiful colors. Need anything before we get started? Water? Bathroom? Snack?”

Steve’s head was spinning.

Eddie’s energy was relentless, and he had a smile on his face the entire time.

Steve couldn’t help smiling back at him.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Eddie nodded and started humming along to the song playing over the speakers.

He went through everything quickly, but still took his time explaining everything. Steve was kind of grateful he didn’t have to sit in silence; His brain wasn’t his friend when there was silence.

“Alright, sunshine. If you’re good, I’m good.”

Steve felt his face heat up, blush spreading from his cheeks to his neck.

“I’m good.”

And then he started.

It was sharp, the needles carving ink into his skin causing a new sensation up his entire arm. But it was also…good?

He’d expected it to be painful, maybe even go numb. He hadn’t expected the pain to feel like this.

He lost focus. Everything felt distant and blurry, but in a sleepy way, not in a pass out way. Steve felt himself smiling slightly, but didn’t have the energy to stop it.

He was watching Eddie work, but wasn’t really seeing anything beyond the way his fingers splayed his skin tight and the tattoo gun left ink behind.

His eyes closed at some point, but he wasn’t asleep, the faint buzz of the tattoo gun keeping him present enough to stay awake.

“Hey, sunshine. Doing alright?”

“Hm?”

He tried to focus in on Eddie’s face. Eddie was very close. He was holding his wrist.

Steve was still here.

“Need a break?”

“No. I’m good.”

Eddie chuckled. “I’d say so.”

He continued, and Steve let his mind wander again. It was nice to drift. He’d never felt this relaxed before, not even during the massage Robin got him for his birthday last year.

“Alright, sunshine. You’re done.”

Steve looked down at the tattoo now covering his wrist.

It was beautiful, even better than the picture.

He started to cry.

If he wasn’t so far gone, he’d probably be embarrassed or angry about it, but surely other people had cried after a tattoo before. Maybe Eddie would just ignore it.

“Oh, sweetheart. Do you not like it?”

“No. I love it.” Steve took a shaky breath, then another. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Eddie was rubbing his back and smiling sadly down at him.

“I’m glad you love it. I just have to wrap it up and go over some care instructions, okay?”

“Okay.”

Steve was never this vulnerable, not even with Robin. He was pretty sure she’d only actually seen him cry once when a student moved away.

His whole thing was that he didn’t show emotions. His job required it to an extent, though he was always caring to his students, giving them smiles when they came in to make them feel welcome.

But here he was smiling and crying to a stranger over a tattoo.

“Sunshine?”

“Yeah?”

“Got you some water. I need you to look at me while I go over the instructions okay?”

“Okay.”

He felt himself coming back down to earth as he looked at Eddie, a soft smile making Steve focus in on his mouth.

“That’s good. Keep this wrapped for four hours at least and longer if you’ll be outside. When you take it off, make sure you wash it with antibacterial soap gently and then use moisturizing lotion, unscented is best. If you need some, I can give you some. Make sure to keep it moisturized over the next week. It’ll peel a little, that’s normal, but if you see anything that’s a lot of color falling out or something, come see me and I can fix it. No long exposure to direct sunlight for at least 4 weeks, and use sunscreen on it if you think you will be.” He took a breath and smirked. “Got it?”

“Um.”

He handed over a paper with a laugh.

“It’s all right here. I just needed you to come back down from space. Drink your water and relax for a minute. I’ll go get the card reader.”

Steve did as he was told, enjoying the way the ice cold water helped him focus back in on his surroundings.

With the focus came the grumpiness. He was crashing from his adrenaline high, and his first instinct was to pout.

He didn’t think he was visibly doing so until he heard Eddie snort from a few feet away.

“Welcome back. Sorry to burst your bubble. If I didn’t have another client in 20 minutes, I’d probably have let you stay there for a bit. Seems like you needed it.”

“I. What do you mean? I was just zoned out.”

Eddie froze where he was typing something into his phone.

“Have you never…? Oh. Jesus Christ. Okay. Well. I don’t.” He looked genuinely concerned about what to do. “Okay. I don’t feel comfortable letting you be alone yet. Do you have someone you live with or who can hang out for a bit?”

“My roommate had a work emergency or she’d be here.”

Steve’s arms were crossed again, but the pull of the wrap around his wrist reminded him of the dull ache he was still experiencing. It made him shiver, but he couldn’t explain why.

“Okay. Can you stick around for a bit? I’ve got an office with a couch in the back.”

“Are you gonna tell me why?”

“Ever heard of sub space?”

“Like…the kinky thing?”

Eddie facepalmed.

“Yeah. Like the kinky thing.”

“I mean, I’ve heard of it. Why?”

“You just spent the last hour in it.”

Steve was usually pretty good at keeping a pretty stoic face, but his jaw dropped.

“No I didn’t.”

“Sunshine, you were gone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone that deep from a tattoo before.”

“If this is just a way to get me alone in your office or something…”

“Steve. I know you don’t know me, but I would never do that. If I wanted to get you alone, I’d just ask you.”

“I’m sure I’d say no.”

“Exactly. So you’ll stay so I can keep an eye on you?”

Steve shrugged. He didn’t have anything else to do and Robin wouldn’t be home for hours.

“I guess.”

Eddie’s eyes were practically glittering.

“Good. Go lay down, sunshine. I’ll bring you more water in a minute.”

So despite Steve having no idea what just happened, and barely any idea who Eddie even was beyond a talented tattoo artist, he made his way to the office and curled up on the couch.

Pout firmly in place because he was still Steve, after all.

Chapter 2 /  Chapter 3

[maxellminidisc]

I think people forget that punk didn't just get reduced to an aesthetic by the kids on tiktok or whatever. Like don't get me wrong I hope kids do learn about punk and its roots in homeless and working class youth and the music that basically is at the root of punk as a subculture, but like lol people act like kids today are to blame for that. Kids today are introduced to punk through an already preprocessed, hyper consumptive lense as a result of punk becoming an aesthetic via the fashion industry and corporate interest making it into a pop culture phenomenon for a profitable market that essentially ended up stripping it of its counter cultural or sub cultural nature.

Fashion industry is essentially what caused a great divide between punk's subcultural aesthetic with deep roots in poverty and resourcesfullness vs punk REDUCED to aesthetic with stereotypical hallmark pieces with more popularity amongst the general public as said aesthetic following its decline in media hype. What we know as iconic and quintessential punk looks and templates, like say the Vivienne Westwood tattered sweaters that Sid Vicious wore, her breast t shirt or anything in her and McLaren's famous shop SEX that was used by the most popular punk bands of the time etc were already highly curated, already expensive pieces actual kids in the punk scene could not afford. She is literally credited as commercializing punk lol

Theres a huge fashion culture of creativity and socio political history based entirely on these poor and homeless youths that has often been overshadowed if not just straight up forgotten as a result of how much attention and how much credit designers like Westwood have gotten as like pioneers and shapers of punk fashion and the culture itself which is like ludicrous if you think about it.

Not to mention so much of corporate interest in punk as a profitable music market ended up really dulling the teeth on a lot of artists music. There were still an edge of politics in it but I think there was so much refinement to a lot of the most popular bands that signed with labels that most punks started seeing that as selling out, and what sold out was what became pop culture and started being seen by people within the subculture as anything BUT subcultural.

[astraysimp]

♡Hi pookies! It’s 9mitm friday and boy have I been waiting for this one!I have been planning this one for soooooooo long….so I am so ready and excited to get this one out!♡ Nessa.exe has malfunctioned♡

Summary: Seungmin has never been into the party scene, but his friends still bug him about going out. But, why would he when he has you and his tiny pochacco at home?

Warnings: college!bf dad Seungmin,Seungmin’s friend are annoying, mad seungmin(not towards you or baby), FLUFF FLUFF MARSHMALLOW FLUFF, soft seungmin, cussing, petnames, fem!reader, lots of pochacco

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12.35pm

Seungmin had just been released from his last lecture. It was Friday, which meant that you didn’t have any classes that day. So, Seungmin knew you would be at your shared apartment with your baby Min Jun. He was looking forward to being able to have his peaceful weekend with you and his baby.However, Seungmin’s friends, Hyunjin and Jisung, had other plans. Seungmin’s plans never included going out and getting drunk. Typically consisting of going back to your apartment, wearing sweats or pajamas and unwinding for the weekend. Oh, and lots of time with the baby.

As he was walking out of his lecture hall and off campus, he felt two hands place themselves on each of his shoulders. “Hey, Seungmin! You down to go to the club tonight?” Hyunjin had asked, smiling at the younger boy. “No, I'm just going to go home to y/n and Minjun.” Whining, Jisung pouted, “But you never go out with us anymore! Come on!” He drawled out, stomping his foot. They always said this, every single time. Hyunjin nodded, “Yeah! Just one night, come on man! It’s been so long since we’ve gone out together!” Hyunjin added.

Seungmin could feel himself getting frustrated. No matter how many times he told them he didn’t like clubbing, he didn’t like parties, he didn’t like drinking…..they never got it. Groaning, Seungmin rebutted, “You guys know I don’t like that type of scene.Why do you keep asking?” He argued, adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulder. Quick to butt back in, Jisung replied, “because, you never go out with us, anymore! We’re young and in college, for God’s sake!” “Yeah, we gotta enjoy our youth, bro!” Hyunjin chimed in. Seungmin didn’t care that he was in his 20’s and in college or that he was ‘supposed’ to be out getting drunk at any chance he got. What was in the fun in waking up with a massive hangover, pounding headache and nauseated feeling the next day?

They were soooooo persistent, and Seungmin was growing mad. Usually, he would say no until the two boys gave up and went on their ways. But, for some reason, today they never gave up. Only continuing to badger, pester, poke and prod at their friend until the rubber band of usual his calm collective demeanor broke and all hell broke loose with it. With each playful shove, his anger only built, nearing the end of his rope, before he snapped. Seungmin was practically seeing red. He was livid.

“Maybe, I don’t go out because I DON’T FUCKING LIKE IT. I DON’T LIKE PARTIES AND CROWDS AND GETTING PLASTERED. I LIKE QUIET AND CALM AND DID YOU FORGET I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND BABY I GO HOME TO?! I KNOW YOU TWO LONELY FUCKERS DON’T HAVE SIGNIFICANT OTHERS OR BABIES TO LOVE ON, BUT I DO! AND I WANT TO BE HOME WITH THEM SO STOP FUCKING TRYING TO GET ME TO GO OUR AND FUCKING PARTY! IT’S NOT HAPPENING!” He snapped, shoving their hands off of him and storming away from them and towards your apartment building, still cursing under his breath. Hyunjin and Jisung’s jaws dropped, never having seen Seungmin so mad.

But, they were the ones to cause it.

Hopefully, the 10 minute walk to the apartment complex would cool him down. Maybe, feeling the wind blow through his soft brown locks, or the sun on his face or the slightly chilled breeze would help him relax. He didn’t want to return to your apartment, to you and your baby, with a sour attitude. So, picking out his airpods, he pushed them into his ears and hit shuffle on his playlist, already feeling slightly more calm.

When he was about 5 minutes away, he heard a soft ding play through his airpods, causing a brief and momentary pause in his music. It was a text from you, with a picture of your baby asleep on your chest, both of you clad in pochacco pajamas and a pochacco blanket strewn over you.

“Little pochacco is resting before papa gets home <3”

You had sent that text, albeit sleepily. Your fingers tiredly swiping over the keyboard, before you hit send and set your phone down. You, too, fell asleep waiting for Seungmin to come home.

Making his casual 10 minute walk to your apartment complex, he felt himself cooling off. But, he was still mad. He told Hyunjin and Jisung time and time and time again that no, he doesn’t like going out and partying. Why couldn’t they get it through their thick skulls and stop pestering him about it. Seungmin was never the one to go out and party, much preferring his peace and quiet.

Before he met you,while other college kids were partying, he would be in his dorm playing video games, or at quiet cafes with an iced americano or in the library studying. You were the same way, and in fact, that was how you met.

You were freshmen and it was a Friday night, and Seungmin had just entered the cafe he normally went to, and saw you sitting at a corner table, sipping an iced caramel latte with sweet cold foam and caramel drizzle, made with oat milk instead of dairy milk– which he came to know as your favorite drink and one he would order many many times in the future– perched in your hand. You were wearing a cute soft blue hoodie, the words “it’s okay” embroidered on the back, a pair of black leggings on your legs, white converse and baby blue fuzzy socks on your feet. He remembered how you had glasses perched on your nose, slightly falling as you read your book, and how your hair had tied up into a loose bun with a scrunchy.

Mostly, he remembered how nervous he felt when he saw you, the air having been knocked out of him when you caught him staring and gestured for him to come to your table. A soft smile on your face, you pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “Hi there….I’m y/n.” You had introduced yourself, a soft giggle leaving your pink glossed lips. “Hi. I-I’m Seungmin.” He stuttered back. From that day on, 4 years ago, you and Seungmin had become inseparable. So inseparable to the point that everyone on your campus knew you two as “Mr and Mrs.Kim”.

When you were pregnant, you two were always together. Finding out you were expecting was scary and you cried as you told Seungmin.The two of you were still in college, your futures not even started yet. “Minnie, I’m pregnant,” you cried, burying your face in his chest. “I know, baby. It’s going to be okay,” he shushed, rubbing soothing circles onto your back. Peeking up at him you sniffled, “w-what? What do you mean ‘you know?” He only chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Bubs, I know you like the back of my hand. We’ve been together for 4 years, I track your periods. I figured it out when your app said you were late.” Oh. You smiled up at him, soft sniffles still escaping your, “Oh, okay.” You, in the end, knew it would be okay. With Seungmin, it would always be okay.

As your pregnancy progressed, he was there through it all. Every craving, every bout of morning sickness, doctors appointment, parenting class, baby shower, gender reveal, every Braxton Hicks contraction. He was there through it all, and the same went for your labor and delivery. It was a long 25 hours, but he was there for it all. Letting you squeeze his hands as contractions ripped through your body. He saw you get the epidural, even though it scared him watching the doctors push the needle into your lower back. He held your leg as you pushed, he cried when the nurses announced your baby’s head was crowning and he sobbed when he heard the shrill cries of your newborn son and saw him be placed on your chest.

Finally approaching your apartment complex, he let himself in with his keycard and walked to the elevator. Going home to you and Min Jun, who was now 8 months old, was his favorite part of the day. Humming, he pressed the button that would carry him to the 3rd floor of the complex, where you and Min Jun would be. He was growing giddy as he stepped into the elevator, hearing soft music play as the electronic doors closed. The short minute and a half ride felt too long for him.

Smiling to himself, he saw the panel show that he reached the 3rd floor, and the doors opened. Almost home, he was almost home. Holding his key in his hand, he speed walked down the hall, his eyes beaming. Ah, his beloved apartment 306.

You and Seungmin had gotten your apartment a year into your relationship having decided that 1. Dorms sucked and 2. It would just be better to live together. You were always together so it just made sense. Plus, you and Seungmin preferred the quietness an apartment offered. Your apartment was the perfect mix of you and Seungmin’s personalities. It was cozy, homely, warm and inviting. The walls painted a creme color, soft creme colored furniture making itself home. The apartment always smelled of a soft vanilla scent, thanks to your candles or wax melts or baking.

Unlocking the door, he toed his outdoor shoes off in exchange for his pochacco slippers. He saw how the kitchen was clean, dishes washed and on the drying rack. Min Jun’s high chair sitting next to your small dining table. Smiling, he softly shut the door and left his backpack on the table. “Baby, pup, I’m home!” He called out, after shrugging his denim jacket off, and walked towards the living room.

He loved the living room, pictures of you, Seungmin and Min Jun adorning the walls. Your soft cream colored couch and recliner facing opposite the tv. On the couch were soft powder blue throw pillows that you picked out, claiming they “added a cozy touch.” There was a powder blue blanket laying over the back of the couch, added for cuddle sessions or just being chilly. Next to the couch was a cream colored round coffee table, with a lamp and framed picture of the three of you seated on it. In the space between was a cream colored coffee table. Littered with pictures, a baby bottle(usually), occasionally a random plate or mug. Then, there was the rug. Which shockingly was hard to find, some being too bad and some too small. You and Seungmin thought it would be easy to find, but it wasn’t. So, you two were elated, when you found that one. It was soft, plush and powder blue in a rounded square shape and the perfect size.

Then, some of his favorite pieces of furniture. Baby Min Jun’s play mat and tummy time area. Baby toys messily scattered around the floor. Both are pochacco themed, obviously. You and Seungmin often laid on the floor, playing with Min Jun, playing blocks with him, showing him baby books or just simply enjoying tummy time with him– you loved tummy time.

It was quiet when he called out, where he’d normally be met with a “Hi baby!” and baby giggles. Seungmin was confused, as he walked into the living room. Then, he saw you and Min Jun. The two of you asleep on your couch, you and your back with Min Jun laying on you. His cheek was pressed to your chest, pochacco pacifier nestled between his lips and a pochacco blanket laying over you two. It melted his heart. Seungmin knew you didn’t have classes that day, you never did on Fridays, and that meant a day of relaxing with your little pochacco.

With soft footsteps, he approached where you lay on the couch, you looked peaceful and content. He knelt down, placing a soft kiss to your forehead and gently swept a few stray hairs from your face. “Hey, lovebug. I’m home.” He whispered, the back of his knuckle grazing your cheek. His heart swelled, overcome with love at the sight of his girlfriend and son.

The sound of his voice woke you , causing you to softly whine, as your eyes fluttered open and fell upon the sight of your Seungmin. Yawning, you sleepily smiled at him, “hi Minnie,” you whispered, your hand securing a still sleeping Min Jun to your chest. “Hi my girl, you do anything fun ” he asked. Nodding, you rubbed your eyes with your spare hand before pecking his lips. You shook your head, feeling your little pochacco wiggle on your chest. “No, just cleaned and relaxed, waiting for you.” You answered.

Min Jun has always been a heavy sleeper. So, you and Seungmin never had issues with getting to sleep through the night. However, as heavy a sleeper as Min Jun is, he always could sense when mama or papa pochacco moved, arrived, or left. It was almost as if his mama and papa senses set off alarms in his little chubby 8 month old body; that told him something was adorable. You supposed that he got it from you and Seungmin. The two of you, also being able to sense any slight change in movement when it came to each other. It was the cutest thing, truly.

Seungmin had just placed a short quick kiss to your lips, before the sounds of soft whines and whimpers were escaping from Min Jun’s pouted ones. Chuckling, Seungmin kissed his forehead, smoothing the rustled soft black hairs on Min Jun’s head. “Ah, why is my pochacco whining?” Seungmin asked, as Min Jun’s eyes, identical, to his own, looked back at him. As if he were responding, Min Jun whined again, one of his chubby hands reaching out towards his papa pochacco, Seungmin.

Holding onto his papa’s finger, Min Jun blinked his big brown eyes up at Seungmin. Min Jun put Seungin’s finger in his mouth, the pacifier long forgotten. It was a sign that he was hungry and it made you giggle. It made Seungmin’s heart melt every time, looking at a miniature version of himself. Smiling, you patted Min Jun’s, pochacco onesie covered, bum and rubbed his back. “Are you hungry, my pochacco?” You asked, as he started gumming away at Seungmin’s finger. The feeling of his son’s wet, saliva covered, gums mouthing at his finger made him cringe– affectionately, of course. Nodding his head, Seungmin smiled and placed a soft kiss against Min Jun’s chubby cheek and made his way towards your kitchen.

Seeing his papa walk away caused Min Jun to whine, longing for more love from papa pochacco. “Baby, have you eaten yet?” Seungmin called out, already grabbing ingredients for ramyeon along with a bottle, jar of pureed apples and peaches and a pochacco spoon. “No, not yet, honey.” You called back, carefully moving yourself to sit up on the couch, cradling a still whining Min Jun to your chest. “I’m making some ramyeon with eggs, honey. Is that okay?” You heard Seungmin call out, as the scent of the broth wafted its way from your kitchen to the living room. Bouncing Min Jun on your lap, you smiled and held his hands so he could stand. “Yes, bub, that sounds yummy!” You replied, as Min Jun babbled and bounced on his legs. Babbling, Min Jun placed his hands on your cheeks, effectively squishing them together and causing you to purse your lips. As best as he could for being 8 months old, he pursed his own lips and pressed them against your own. “Mwah Mwah Mwah” you managed to get out, as he still had his hands on your face. He was all giggles, loving his mama’s kisses.

Being so enveloped by kissing your baby pochacco, you hadn’t heard Seungmin call out that lunch was ready. “Babe? Pup? Lunch is ready!” Seungmin called out, only to be met with no response and the sound of baby giggles. Setting the table, he placed your steaming bowls of ramen on the dining table. Chopsticks, broth spoons and glasses of juice set alongside. “Babe,” he called again, turning to grab the jar of baby food and spoon, setting them on the tray of Min Jun’s high chair. Again, no response.

Once the tables had been set, he walked back to the living room, his eyes landing upon the sight of you and Min Jun sharing sweet kisses. He smiled to himself, quietly padding along the floor, until he was standing by the arm of the couch that was closest to where you were sitting. Leaning down, Seungmin placed a kiss on your forehead, which startled you. “Babe, lunch is ready,” he called out, chuckling as you jumped back in your seat. “Oh, sorry Min. Pup was too busy giving mama kisses. Isn’t that right, my little pochacco?” You smiled, as Min Jun’s eyes shifted to where Seungmin stood he giggled, holding his little chubby arms out to him.

Scooping the 8 month old baby into his arms, Seungmin smiled and made the short walk back to the kitchen. You were following behind, smiling at the sight of Seungmin and Min Jun. “Lunch time for you, huh bub. Are you hungry?” Seungmin smiled, as he placed the baby in his high chair, securing a (pochacco) bib around his neck. Pulling up a chair, Seungmin sat in front of the high chair, one hand holding the jar of food and the other holding the spoon. Turning to where you were sitting, Seungmin shot you a soft smile. “Babe, you go on and eat. I’ll feed the pup.” He said, carefully scooping an appropriate amount of food onto the spoon and lifting it to his son’s mouth. “Ah, say ah, bubba.” Seungmin cooed, watching Min Jun open his mouth, his lips enveloping the spoon. “Mmmmm, is it yummy, my little pochacco?” He crooned, as he continued feeding the baby.

You could only watch with love filled eyes. “The ramyeon is really good, babe. Good job.” You told Seungmin, as you picked up another bite of noodles with your chopsticks, softly blowing to cool them off before taking the bite in your mouth. “Thank you baby. Glad you like them,” he called back, still feeding Min Jun. Smiling, you move to sit next to Seungmin, carefully holding a bite of ramyeon to his mouth. “Open up, honey. You need to eat too.” You smiled, as his lips parted, exposing his beautiful smile and took the bite of food in his mouth. “Mh, thank you hon,” he said through chewing, a bit of broth dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Nodding, you smiled and continued to feed him and yourself as he fed Min Jun. “Of course, Minnie. What are we doing after this?” You pondered, seeing Min Jun get his baby food smeared around his mouth. Shrugging his shoulders, Seungmin carefully scooped the food from around the baby’s lips and fed it to him. “I don’t have anything planned. Was there anything you wanted to do, bub?” He asked, setting the now empty jar and spoon down.

You shook your head no. “Not really, maybe just go relax at the park or something later, the weather is nice.” You answered, as you and Seungmin had finished eating. Taking your dishes to the sink, you washed them clean of the food and set them in the drying rack. Seungmin had scooped Min Jun from his high chair and sat him on his lap, his small hands holding his bottle as he drank from it. Sitting down and leaning your head against his shoulder, you nuzzled into him. “The park sounds nice, honey girl.” Seungmin smiled, gently kissing your forehead. “The weather isn’t too cold,either.”

Nodding, you and Seungmin made separate ways to your rooms to get dressed. Taking Min Jun to his nursery, Seungmin laid him on the changing table. “Hm, what should we wear today, little pup?” He asked, already knowing it would be something pochacco themed. Smiling, he changed his baby’s diapers, holding his wriggly chubby legs still before sliding on a pair of baby sweatpants. He opted to go for a comfortable yet cute vibe. “So cozy, huh, bubbly?” He asked, as Min Jun looked back at him, with his brown brown eyes. “Alright, let’s get a shirt and hoodie on you. That sound good, pup?” Seungmin asked before carefully dressing him in a simple white tee shirt and a pochacco hoodie— of course with a little tail on the back and floppy black ears on its hood. “Now, for your little feet,” he cooed, kissing each of Min Jun’s feet before sliding a pair of white socks and little baby converse on his feet. “All done, my boy. Now, daddy has to get dressed.”

Meanwhile, you were in yours and Seungmin’s shared bedroom. You were humming to yourself, sliding into a pair of soft black leggings. “Hmmmm, what to wear, what to wear,” you thought aloud to yourself. Grabbing a powder blue shirt, you slipped it over your head and grabbed your hoodie. It was, also, powder blue and had a little pochacco printed on the chest area. It was well loved, and so oversized. That hoodie felt like home.

It was your favorite hoodie. Seungmin had gifted it to you on your three month anniversary, telling you “I noticed that powder blue is your favorite color, and pochacco is my favorite character. So….it’s perfect and I have a matching one. “ He blushed, watching as you hugged the hoodie to your chest.

Smiling, Seungmin had quietly slipped into your bedroom, Min Jun in his arms. “Still love that hoodie, don’t you baby?” He asked, setting Min Jun on the bed so he could also get dressed. Startled, you clutched your chest, turning to smile at your boyfriend. “Geez, Minnie. You scared me. But, yes, I still love this hoodie, it’s my favorite one,” you smiled, slipping socks and converse on your feet. “I know, I got you it, 4 years ago.” Seungmin laughed, changing into jeans and his matching hoodie. Not paying him any mind, you turned your attention to your baby. Picking him up, you smiled taking in his outfit. “Oh look at my little pochacco! Did daddy dress you! I know he did! My little cutie pie!” You cooed, as he giggled at you, his small hands waving in the air.

Not noticing that Seungmin had finished getting dressed, he called out. “Picture time!” He waved his phone, standing in front of your full length mirror. It was a tradition to snap a selfie of your outfits. “Smiling, you held Min Jun on your hip as you walked to where Seungmin was standing. Taking your place by his side, he slung his arm over your shoulders and you cuddled into his side, Min Jun balanced on your hip. “Smile!” He called, you two smiled, the shutter of his phone camera going off.

Once the picture was taken, you grabbed your purse and made your way to the kitchen, so you could get the baby bag and stroller ready. “We’ll be in the kitchen, honey. Don’t take too long.” You said. Quickly, he nodded and rushed to grab his keys and wallet. “Gotcha babe! Be right out,” he rushed as he slipped his feet into his shoes . Once he finished getting dressed, he looked at his phone, setting the new picture as his Home Screen and Lock Screen. Lowering his phone, he examined the picture and thought….

Diapers over clubs, any day

<3~ please do not repost (on any websites),copy, translate, modify, paraphrase or in any way claim my works <3~ AStraySimp est2023<3~

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[dumbslxtclub]

just a taste | e.m - part one

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: a summer pool party at the harrington residence emboldens you to make a move on eddie

content warnings: fem!reader, 18+ for eventual smut, adult language, adult themes, mentions of underage drinking and drugs, reader is 19, brief mention of male masturbation, sexual tension

word count: 2.4k+

a/n: this has been living in my drafts for far too long, so I'm posting it as motivation to actually write the *smut*. big love to @dickfics69 for helping me with this one xx

The raucous and completely off-tune rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ fills the balmy night air, undoubtedly disturbing the sleepy neighbors surrounding Steve’s property. Hoards of your senior classmates crowd the backyard, beer sloshing against concrete as they jauntily sing at the top of their lungs, hoarse from an evening of inhaling far too much smoke. A forgotten bonfire crackles in the corner, one or two figures passed out in the warm glow. Sweat clings to your skin, the thin material of your summer dress far too claustrophobic in the sweltering heat of the night. No reprieve from this warmth is granted as Robin’s arm wrap around your shoulders, practically blowing out your eardrum from the volume she’s singing. One of those ecstatic inebriated moments of youth, surrounded by people you’ll never see again after graduation, living for today. A perfect night. There’s only one thing missing.

You’ve been eyeing Eddie all night. Liquid courage has fueled your interactions, boldly brushing against the sinewy muscles of his bare arm, complimenting the scratchy tattoo job adorning his forearm. Nothing out of the ordinary, the pair of you close friends who have spent many a night leaning on one another as another movie flashes across the TV screen. But tonight, you feel emboldened to make a move. You’ve tried, and failed, to rationalize your attraction to one of your best friends. His charismatic nature causes anyone who gives him the time of day to fall under his spell, with Eddie remaining blissfully oblivious to his effect on people. Over the years, you’ve watched him transform from a meek boy into, well, a man. Unaware of how he’s grown into his body, lean muscles built from endless nights of loading band equipment into his van. Trading in his buzz cut for an unkempt mane of curls, which somehow always seem to fall into an effortless frame around the sharp bone structure of his face. What has always remained, however, is that boyish smile. Dimples hollowing deep into his cheekbones, causing you to trip over your words whenever they’re flashed in your direction. God, you’re in deep.

With a deep huff, Steve blows out the two pathetic candles Nancy pulled out of the bottom drawer and stuck haphazardly into the thick icing at the last moment. A loud cheer booms from the crowd, sending their drinks skywards in celebration.

“To Steve!” Robin practically screams, sloshing a fair amount of her cider down your already damp chest. 

“To me!” The birthday boy, grinning madly, tips his head back and empties the contents of his lukewarm beer down his gullet. He’s long since discarded his shirt, proclaiming “it’s my house and I’ll do what I want”, leaving nothing to stain as a steady trickle of liquid slides down his bare chest. 

The party is at its peak, electricity coursing through the night as unsupervised teenagers give into their impulses. Couples stand devouring each other in the corner with little regard as to who’s watching, some of the jock’s cannonballing into the pool. The brush of bodies around you clear, illuminating Eddie giving Steve a hearty hug and firm pat on the back. Now’s your chance. 

Shrugging Robin off your shoulders, you grab her wrist and lead her over to the pair, ready to cash in on her promise of playing wing-woman for you tonight. 

“Great party, Steve.” Addressing the younger man, you watch as he pulls a candle out and licks the icing off the base.

“Would you expect anything less?” He quips back, a cheeky smile taking over his face before he wraps a sweaty arm around your shoulders.

“I’ll expect you’re in for an ass-kicking when your parents get back on Monday.” Robin chimes in, clinging to you like a buoy for support.

“Pfft, cleaning up is tomorrow’s problem. We live for tonight!” Wow, Steve is sure getting into the spirit tonight. Eddie shakes his head at his friend’s antics, turning his attention to the sickly-sweet dessert.

“Want me to slice this up, big boy?” Ringed fingers slide along the skirting of the plate, but his eyes are elsewhere. You feel his gaze raking up the expanse of your thighs, oblivious to how your dress has ridden up amidst the sweaty excitement of the evening.

“Sure, could only help to soak up the alcohol at this point. I’ll grab a knife from the kitchen.” Stumbling backwards, he shoots a half-lidded look in Robin’s direction. “And where did you put my beers? Thought you said they were in the fridge.”

“They are, dingus. On the bottom shelf next to the lump that was probably once cheese but now could be studied for science.” 

“They’re actually not. And if someone stole them, they’re gonna have hell to pay.” “Oh my god! They are…” Their bickering trails off through the sliding doors into the house, leaving you and Eddie alone. Time for some world-class flirting, brain flicking through the Rolodex of teen magazines on how to make a move. But before your brain is capable of firing any neurons, Eddie beats you to the punch.

“The uh- the cake looks good.” Oh great, we’re going down the small talk route. It’s cool, totally cool. You can work with that.

“Oh, thanks! Robin and I baked it yesterday.” Off to a cracking start.

“Well, if you had anything to do with it, I bet it tastes as good as it looks.” Is he-

“Sure does, I’m a master baker. Go ahead, try it for yourself, see if your theory holds up.”

Eddie quirks his brow at you, and you give a small nod in the direction of the frosting-covered mound. A small smile creeps across his face as he dips his forefinger into the lip of the cake, a glob of white icing and sprinkles stuck to his fingertip. Raising it to his mouth, he slowly places the pad of his finger against his tongue, licking a long stripe of sugary cream onto his taste buds. You feel your cheeks burn at the sight, breath hitching in your throat. 

“Mmm, ‘ts good.” Satiated, Eddie’s lips curl into a smug smile, is he getting a rise out of seeing you like this? Masochist. But you’re nothing if not competitive. 

“You’ve uh, got something…” Pointing to the corner of your mouth, Eddie mirrors your action and wipes a small dollop of remaining frosting stuck to the apex of his lips. Pulling his hand back to study it, you take a sure step towards him, closing the gap. Wrapping your fingers around his, you bring the digit up to your lips and place his fingertip against the groove of your tongue. Lips curl around his finger, causing his eyes to widen. You know exactly how you look right now, grateful for the veil provided by the inebriated guests to prevent this gesture from being seen by anyone other than Eddie. Glancing up at him, you hollow your cheeks out slightly as you withdraw his finger from your pursed lips. You shoot him a honey-sweet smile, turning on your heels to find Robin.

“Yep, definitely tastes as good as it looks.”

After three bottom-shelf tequila shots, two generous slices of cake and one group rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody later, you’re feeling on top of the world.

And hot.

Like, stiflingly hot.

The living room is stuffy, thick with haze and balmy humidity. The party has begun to wind down, designated drivers loading up their cars with the inebriated to transport them home. And you, Robin and Steve are sweaty messes post-Queen performance doubling over with laughter on the dance floor. That’s when Steve loudly announces: “Everyone in the pool!”

He’s met with a mixed reaction, a few of the popular girls shooting him a dirty look as they resume their couch gossip session. But with your dress now acting as a sweat rag rather than a garment at this point, you jump at the idea. The three of you beeline into the mostly empty backyard, bar a few smokers lounging around on Steve’s deck chairs.

“Here comes trouble.” A voice chuckles through the billowing smoke, Eddie leaning forward on a recliner as you kick your shoes off haphazardly to the side. 

Steve, with little to discard besides his jeans, shucks them off and cannonballs into the pool, spraying the partygoers scattered around the rim with water. Robin quickly follows suit, diving in next to him, maroon tank top turning a shade darker as it intermingles with the liquid. You chuckle at how they immediately take to dunking one another under the surface, hoping an accidental drowning isn’t on the cards for the night. You turn to Eddie, who is shaking his head and taking a steady drag of his cigarette.

“You coming in?” He glances up at you, expression dropping slightly as he contemplates his answer.

“Nah, someone’s gotta play lifeguard tonight. Make sure Harrington doesn’t drown.”

“Suit yourself, then.” Grabbing the hem of your floral dress, you’re quick to shimmy it up and over your head. The cool breeze hits your clammy skin, providing the immediate relief you’ve been craving all night. Tossing it carelessly to the side, you feel soberingly exposed all of a sudden. Standing on the edge of the pool, water droplets tickle your bare feet as your friends splash about. Cool air caresses the groove between your breasts, intermingling with the sweat droplets accumulating between your lacy bra. The unlined cups provide further relief, a mere suggestion of material against your sensitive skin. On one of the rare occasions you elected to wear a matching set, you’re grateful for the cheeky cut design of your panties, allowing more airflow to cool down your body.

In your slightly drunken indulgence, you don’t notice Eddie unable to tear his eyes away from you. Drinking in your curves far more eagerly than any whiskey he’s consumed that night, committing every square inch to memory. Face to face with the body he’s only ever envisioned in his most private of moments, desperately trying to fill in the blanks as he stroked languidly along his cock, chasing the release only you can grant him. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help it. You’ve become his guilty pleasure, the only satisfying image in his mind’s eye. And now, standing in front of him, it’s better than he ever could have imagined. He’s still running off the high granted from the sensation of your lips wrapped around his finger. So warm and soft, your wet tongue flicking against the pad of his finger, sending shockwaves coursing through his body. Grateful for your swift departure, before you had the chance to notice the tightening bulge in his jeans. Blood rushed directly to his crotch, rendering him slightly dizzy from the whole interaction. Fuck drugs and alcohol. He was completely intoxicated by you. 

“Dude, help me out!” Robin extends her wet hand out to you, hair completely drenched from her underwater battle with Steve. With a smile, you reach out to your friend, grasping her hand in yours. With a swift tug, Robin’s grin is manic as she pulls out into the pool with a squeal. Water crashed around you, submerging you in a tepid ocean of relief. Bobbing back up to the surface, you feign annoyance before bursting into laughter. “God, you’re too easy sometimes!”

Stevel, floating on his back, looks unbelievably content gazing up at the night’s sky, another successful party in the books. Robin takes to doing laps of the pool, using up any excess energy she’s accumulated through the night. And you can’t help but notice the outlier, still sitting in the poolside lounge. You wade over to the edge, looking up at Eddie.

“It’s nice in here.”

“I’m sure it is.” Taking another drag of his cigarette, he shoots you a small smile. It’s sheepish, unlike him. 

“Didn’t bring your bathing suit?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“I can see that.” Eddie chuckles, respectfully averting his gaze.

“Can I have a quick drag?” You don’t usually smoke, but when in Rome. Eddie obliges, holding the butt of the cigarette out to you, just out of reach. Pressing up on the pool’s ledge, you hoist yourself up high enough out of the water to lean over and take the cigarette between your lips.

What you fail to notice is the way your breasts are pressed together, hands hip distance apart on the rough cement to just enough to accentuate the groove of your bust. Water droplets accumulated on your delicate skin, glimmering like the impending Autumn dew on grass under the moonlight. Ancient Greek artists could only hope to carve such a divine sculpture, striving for unattainable perfection as they tried to capture your beauty. And then, through the wisps of your lashes, you look up at him. Doe-eyed, cigarette perched between your parted lips, gaze boring into him. And Eddie feels the ground fail beneath him, no longer providing unconditional support. Head growing light as his blood rushes elsewhere in his body causes him to quickly clamber to his feet.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m just, um- not feeling great. Just gonna head inside for a bit.” And with that, Eddie averts his gaze and beelines for the sliding doors, disappearing into the house. 

Fuck. 

So much for playing it cool, it looks like tonight isn’t your night.

“Is Munson okay?” Steve floats over to your side, plucking the cigarette from your mouth to claim it as his own. 

“I don’t know, he said he wasn’t feeling well. Should someone check on him?”

“Nah, probably just smoked too much. I’m sure he'll just grab some water and settle down.”

You hope Steve is right, but five minutes turns to ten, and you begin to worry. What if he’s passed out in the bathroom? You need to go and see if he’s okay, he would do the same for you. Pulling yourself out of the water, you ring the remaining chlorinated water from your hair. In your drunken excitement, none of you possessed the foresight to bring towels out with you. And so, you concede to pulling your floral dress back onto your damp frame, sure Steve will let you borrow some of his clothes later on. Trailing water droplets into the carpeted living room, you peak around for any sight of Eddie. With no one left in the kitchen besides a couple shoving their tongues down each other's throats, you elect to head up the stairs. The bathroom is empty, as is the master bedroom, both doors ajar and rooms dark. 

“Eddie?” You approach Steve’s bedroom door, noticing the light seeping out from under the threshold. Hand meeting the door handle, you give it a shake and notice that it is unlocked. Tentatively pushing it open, you remain quiet in case a poor drunk girl is napping on the bed, not wanting to wake potential inhabitants.

The image you are instead presented with is far less innocent.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline Sirius Black x fem!reader

You lived out your years at Hogwarts with the company of your best friends, Lily Evans and Alice Fortescue. You fell in love with one of the infamous Marauders, Sirius Black. After school, you married and became Mrs Black, living in a home full of love and life with your faithful husband. Your happy life is cut short when Sirius is wrongfully convicted of the murder of Peter Pettigrew and several muggles, and sent straight to Azkaban without trial. The Ministry thinks you must be connected, but after several days of investigation and questioning, litres of veritaserum pumped thrown down your throat, you're proven innocent. You have maintained his innocence ever since, knowing Sirius would never do something like that. The only person who'll hire you is Albus Dumbledore, and with his help your name is reverted to its maiden and your past is buried deep.

This story follows your life during your time as a professor at Hogwarts when Harry Potter joins the school and everything changes.

FULL of angst but has a happy ending.

No use of Y/N

This fic is mostly a collection of moments and scenes! So a lot of time skips.

p.s. title is from the song "I Love You" by Fontaines D.C. — one of my favourite bands!! would so so recommend checking them out :)

CHAPTER ONE (see full series list here)

1991

You glance at your watch, the hand ticking slowly as it moves to show 9:03 p.m.

Finally, the large wooden door opens and a scrawny young boy pushes forward, huffing tiredly, and less than 20 odd first-year students filter into the astronomy tower.

"Evening, everyone!" You say cheerfully. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws stand awkwardly as they gaze around the room in wonderment.

You feel proud of it. The last astronomy professor had left this room a little...boring, so when you came into employment you spruced it up a little bit. Though there aren't many to write on, each wall is plastered in hand-painted constellations with their names in 5 languages written underneath. You had cast a spell on the floor to conjure up a moon, one that matched the real one's lunar phases. Today, a waxing gibbous.

Telescopes line the edges of the circular room, each pointing high into the sky. You eye your favourite for a moment, the same telescope you'd used during your own years as a student at Hogwarts.

It feels like home in this room.

"Welcome to the Astronomy Tower," you say with a smile. "Here, you'll learn all about the wonders of our universe and its planets, galaxies, stars...everything. Please, find a telescope and stand behind it. We'll start with charting some simple constellations today."

The students obediently line behind a telescope each. Your eyes immediately focus on a young boy, with jet black hair and circular glasses. You lose your train of thought for a moment, feeling as though you're looking at a ghost.

He's the very image of James Potter.

Then, he turns to look at you and his eyes strike you. Green and vibrant, full of youth and gentleness.

Lily.

You feel your breath catch in your throat, but quickly shake your head of the grief and clap you hands, smiling at the students again.

"Astronomy is one of the very few subjects that is present in both the wizarding and the muggle world. That means that there are millions of resources out there for all of you to use, whether it be from a wizarding standpoint or a muggle one! Interesting stuff," you continue. "Now, I want you all to do a small task for me. Look through your telescope — please don't change any lenses just yet — and try and see if you can spot a constellation. Then, using the first page of your book, see if you can figure out which constellation it is. Call me over when you think you have one!"

The students immediately start rooting through their bags for their Astronomy textbooks and you sigh gently, content with your introduction. First-years are always well interested and curious about everything, so Astronomy is a pretty easy subject for them to get into. After all, lots of the first year curriculum is just looking at pretty stars and constellations.

"Professor, I think I have one!" A young Gryffindor girl with bushy brown hair and an excited face says to you, throwing her hand in the air enthusiastically.

You smile, walking over to her. "What's your name, dear?"

"Hermione Granger, professor."

"And what constellation do you think you've found?"

"Aquila, professor," she beams, pointing a finger to the small, 'T' shaped constellation in her book.

You close one eye and look through her telescope, noticing it immediately.

You grin at her. "Well spotted, Miss Granger! Excellent work." You glance at her scarlet and gold tie. "5 points to Gryffindor for being the first one!"

Her face lights up proudly.

"Now, let's see if you can find any of the stars present in it. Any at all, though you may find it difficult to differentiate — "

"The star of Altair, professor!"

Your eyes widen and you chuckle in surprise. "Well, aren't you just making my job a whole lot easier for me? Well done, Miss Granger. Please chart that constellation down on some parchment and continue looking."

In the next few minutes, many students find constellations and are charting them down. One boy seems to be having a particularly difficult time.

"Neville Longbottom, isn't it?" You say as you wander up to him. He jumps at the sound of your voice, knocking his forehead against the edge of his telescope and letting out a small yelp of pain. "Oh, sorry..." You wave your wand gently and his eyebrows raise, bringing a hand to his forehead in surprise.

"Just a small healing spell. For minor, minor injuries," you tell him. "How is your charting going?"

The boy's cheeks go red and his eyes focus on the floor beneath him. "I...haven't been able to find one, professor. I — I thought I had one ages ago, but there were too many stars in it..."

"Let me have a look, Mr Longbottom," you say kindly, bringing your eye up to the lens and grinning. "Well, you most definitely have found one. One I didn't think anyone would find!"

You glance at Neville's face, and he's the picture of shock.

"Pisces, Mr Longbottom. Trust your judgement! Excellent work."

Neville grins, and you step aside, but not before he says something else.

"Uh, professor..."

"Yes?"

"How do...how do you know my name?"

You study his face and smile again. The very picture of Frank Longbottom. With Alice Fortescue's mousy hair.

"I went to school with your parents, Mr Longbottom. You're the spitting image of your father."

Next, the young boy with jet black hair and glasses calls you over. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived.

"What one have you found, Mr Potter?"

As he looks at you, green eyes connecting with your own, you try your hardest not to see Lily staring back at you. You try your hardest not to picture your best friend, your honourary sister, a woman of true light in a world full of darkness.

Your heart has felt lonely since her absence. Since James. Since Alice. Since Frank. Since Peter.

You blink.

"Uh, Canis Major, I think?"

You swallow hard. Of course.

"Let me have a look see..." He's right of course, you don't even need to look. You can spot that constellation any night without a telescope. You know it like the back of your hand. "You're dead right, Mr Potter. Brilliant constellation, that is. Canis Major means 'the Great Dog', and it actually contains the brightest star in the night sky visible to our naked eye, Si — "

"Oh, wait, hold on..." Harry says, flicking through his book to find the page on Canis Major. He pauses, eyes skimming down the page. "Uh, Sirius, right?"

You bite your lip, feeling your heart speed up. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Yes, Mr Potter. Sirius."

Your favourite star.

Your favourite person.

Your heart has been broken since his absence.

"Good work." You promptly spin on your heel, heading for your desk as you glance down at your watch. "Alright, everyone. Excellent work today! Now, I won't set anyone any written homework...but if you're truly interested and find you have a little free time, try and see if you can chart any other constellations! Night, everyone."

The students chat animatedly amongst themselves and exit down the spiral stairs, leaving you alone in the room. You sit down at your desk, sighing as you slip a key from your pocket and open one of the drawers. You pull out a small photograph, eyes wandering over the young, elated faces of James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, and yourself.

Graduation day.

One the left, you're standing in the middle of Alice and Lily, arms around them and laughing wholeheartedly. James stands beside Lily, arms around her and Sirius beside him, who's connected with Remus, Peter, and Frank.

You smile weakly. You remember that day, all full of hope and joy. There was some sadness too, sadness to be leaving Hogwarts and ultimately leaving childhood.

Your fingers gently skim over Sirius' face, feeling your heart ache.

What you wouldn't give to go back to that day.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Dear Moony,

I hope you're well! School's started back up again. Been a bit crazy lately, sorry that I haven't written since your last letter. Someone let a troll into the dungeon. Quirrell went mad, fainted in the middle of dinner and set all the students into a panic. It was torture.

Harry's started here. It's hard to look at him sometimes. He's the image of James. It's uncanny. He has Lily's eyes, too. Sometimes I start to feel like I can talk to them through him, even though I know that's mad of me. Neville Longbottom's here too. He's just like his parents. Both in Gryffindor, you'll be happy to know.

Dumbledore's gave me strict instructions not to say a word to Harry about it all. Says it'll be too much for him. He won't be able to understand why I couldn't have raised him instead of the Dursleys. He says that Harry will only start digging around for more information on me if he finds out I'm his godmother. He'd ask about his godfather then. It's too much for a young boy to know that his godfather is in Azkaban.

I wanted to talk to him so bad, Remus. I want to tell him about his parents, show him the photos. I want him to be able to feel at home here, feel like he's got someone here. A part of his family. I know exactly what those Dursleys are like. Petunia always hated James, you know that well enough. I hate that I have to keep this secret for even longer.

I talked to young Neville though. Merlin, he has Alice's clumsiness, that's for sure. Such a sweet lad. He was more than happy to see photos of the two and hear stories about them. I feel like a little bit of the weight that's been hanging over me has been lifted. I even showed him that photo of Alice falling into the Black Lake in 5th Year. If she was of sound mind she'd surely throttle me for that.

I think I need to get out of the castle for a bit. Wanna get a coffee? It's been a while.

I've omitted a few details of the past few weeks so I have something interesting to tell you about next weekend, if you're up for it.

all my love,

You sign the letter, folding up the parchment gently and dropping it in an envelope. You grab your bland wax stamper and press a small circle of black wax over the envelope's seal. You slip it into your pocket and stand up from your bed. Beside you, your black cat, Dubh*, stirs from her sleep and meowls at you.

You give her a loving scratch behind the ears. "Just popping down to the owlery. I'll be back."

On your way down to the owlery, you pass two lanky, identical students with heads full of ginger hair. They haven't noticed you yet. They're peering around the corner at Filch, a suspicious-looking bag in one of their hands.

"Bit late for the two of you to be out, isn't it?" You whisper behind them. They wheel around immediately and their eyes widen in shock.

"Professor! We — uh, we weren't doing anything!" George blurts out.

"Don't you look just lovely tonight, Professor? There is such a...healthy glow about you," Fred remarks suavely and you raise an unamused eyebrow at him.

"I sincerely hope you don't think I'm that thick, Mr Weasley."

"Never, Professor!"

You sigh, shaking your head. "Off to bed, both of you. Quickly, before Filch can catch you. I advise you to keep your pranks within the time you're actually allowed out of bed."

Fred's shoulders slump in disappointment, his want for a good prank evident on his face. George however, is staring at you in surprise.

"No detention?"

Fred immediately smacks his hand over the back of George's head, scowling at him. "Don't give her any ideas!"

"Get going, you two."

They take it this time, quickly scampering down the hallway. You step out from it, into the same one as Filch, who's eyeing you suspiciously.

"Is someone there?"

"Only me, Mr Filch," you answer.

"I thought I heard voices."

"Just me. I was trying to remember a poem I heard recently, it's three pages long. Would you like to hear it?"

Filch's face contorts immediately. "No."

You shrug. "Suit yourself."

You walk past him and out into the cold night air, trying to suppress the smile on your face.

->-> read chapter two here!

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

*Dubh: pronounced 'duv'. Irish word for 'black'.

→ all types of interaction appreciated ♡

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 少年歌行/The Blood of Youth

The Blood of Youth is a 2022 live-action adaptation of the tale of a deposed, disabled, and incredibly cunty prince who's on his way back to settle the score with his asshole father, and the rag-tag band of weirdos he accumulates along the way, including Spear Girl, Bad Monk, and Fire Puppy (pictured above).

I hope you like shounen anime, because this is the most shounen anime something is allowed to be without actually being based on something running weekly in Shounen Jump. What if Nirvana in Fire were also Naruto? It would be the Blood of Youth.

This show is an underrated gem of action-packed fun that not nearly enough people in English-speaking fandom have seen. In an attempt to correct that -- and ahead of an announced second season and prequel in progress -- I'm here with five reasons you should try it out.

1. Zero thoughts head empty

You do not have to pay an enormous amount of attention to this show to understand what's going on. The show itself does not always know what's going on. It got distracted by a shiny object over there, and now we're all gearing up to go punch the shiny object. We'll get back to the main plot when we're done with the punching.

It has a million billion plot threads going on at any given moment. Bad guys roll in from sects you've never heard of before, using superpowers with stupid names, only to get kicked into next week. There's approximately eleventy thousand characters -- so many, in fact, that I ran into problems several times while making this rec post, because there aren't readily available photos of everyone I want to talk about. Just look at the DramaWiki cast list. See how it goes on for like fifty screens? That's a little what the show feels like.

Except I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, because the show knows it's doing this, and it acts accordingly. It telegraphs pretty well who's important and who isn't (and then it goes out of its way to color-code the latter, which is handy). What you're left with is absolutely a manga-style plot, complete with training arcs and semi-relevant sidequests, all working up to the final boss match.

It is an extremely self-aware show. On multiple occasions, something would happen, I would crack a joke about it, and then a beat later the show itself would make the exact same joke. I wouldn't call it an outright comedy, but it's still very funny, and on purpose. It has no illusions about being some kind of profound, meaningful epic. Mostly it's just here for a good time.

Yet this lightheartedness is what makes the powerful emotional parts really powerful by contrast. The show is not stupid; it's just goofing around most of the time. When it knuckles down, it can be devastating. And you know what? It does wind up being profound and meaningful about some stuff. How about that.

So yeah, if you're up for something that bops merrily right along and only occasionally rips your heart out, here you go!

2. Putting the poly in polycule

Bisexuals, rejoice! It's representin' time!

Here you go, I made a relationship chart of about 40% of the show's potential and canonical ships. I could have included so many more, but I only had so much space on the image, so I had to leave out some amazing ones, like the sword hedgehog who's real into this one cougar who could easily wipe the floor with him, or the rich nerd who thinks he has a chance with the aforementioned hot butch, or the fancy MILF who cheated on the emperor with a dreamy jianghu man and is trying not to cheat on him again with a different, slightly less dreamy jianghu man. See? There's just so much.

I would also say these are not exclusive ships. They are extremely inclusive ships. I am a fan of most (though admittedly not all) of the pairings listed here, and in fact of many of the three-and-more-somes indicated by these lines. They're such a cuddle puddle of shared intense feelings that it's hard to imagine anyone getting more than mildly jealous. Moreover, the potential for romance does not get in the way of hetero friendships; a boy and a girl who are each dating other people can go do adventures together, and (mostly) nobody gets weird about it, which is nice. If anything, what makes the overall dynamic so polycule-like is how equally friends and love interests get treated, meaning that it's not difficult to see a lot of crossover potential between those two categories.

If you're like me, you're hesitant about canonical romance, especially when it's straight, mostly because so many straight love stories wind up being tiresome, gross, and/or skull-poundingly boring. You will then be pleasantly surprised by how the canon pairings with members of the main cast are not like this at all!

Xiao Se and Sikong Qianluo are the main textual romance, and golly gee, they're just cute as heck. As the chart above indicates, I like interpreting them as two Kinsey 6's who have found their single exceptions, Mulder-and-Scully-style. Maybe one of the best things about their relationship is that it gets sidelined all the time for the plot. They're not so busy being in love that they forget to get shit done. Then they get a bit of downtime and get to go on a date, and you're like, aww, those sweet gay disaster babies are gonna do a little bit of heterosexuality. Just precious.

Tang Lian and Fairy Rui are right up there with the cuteness. She's a sex-positive dancing beauty who wants to ride that pretty boy like she stole him, and he's a shy sword boy so tightly bottled up that he'll explode if he sees a bare ankle. Avoiding spoilers, I will simply say that this is a pairing of two relatively soft people, until a bad thing happens to one of them and the other hardens up about it. If that's your jam, they're here for you.

Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoye are probably the most magical and the most practical of the bunch. They have a beautiful, super-dreamy, really horny sword-dance meet-cute, complete with its own pop song ... and then that's it, they're basically just together. She likes him, he likes her, good for them. In-laws aside, it's a refreshingly low-drama situation. Besides, I always love it when the hypercompetent woman gets the sweet, devoted himbo who'd do anything for her. Ruoye's had a hard life, and she deserves someone who can dick her down good at night and make her a nourishing breakfast the next morning.

And then there is, of course, The Ship:

Xiao Se and Wuxin are canonical, textual soulmates. The show treats their dynamic as more important than any other. It's so important, in fact, that the show has to sideline Wuxin for huge parts of the drama, lest everything get too damn gay. They each get a boyfriend catch on the other. They both do fairly reckless things when the other is in trouble. They are the secret hidden happy ending to the series. They share the kind of ride-or-die relationship built on mutually being the hugest bitches in any given room. Whether or not you think this is romance, it is extremely romantic, and the series agrees as much as it can, all things considered.

And if none of those flavors of love float your boat? Well, have you considered ... eunuchs?

3. She likes e4e

So I'm on record as being real into eunuch characters, right? Well, if you're with me on that, you are in for a treat here, because these are some absolutely buck-wild eunuchs.

There's five main ones, and I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what's going there. Like, really, I don't even think I understood all of what was happening with them. They're kind of the bad guys, but then they're kind of the good guys, but then some of them are the bad guys, but then they're just working for the bad guys, but then they screw over the bad guys, and ... it's just a lot, okay? It's a lot, and it's all happening with this bunch of catty bitches.

Also, you would not believe the difficult time I had finding any images for this section. I guess for some reason, fandom isn't way into a bunch of canonically dickless color-coordinated middle-aged men in weird hats? Whatever, man, they are missing out. If, however, you have the good sense to be into the intense and complicated (semi-romantic??) relationships among colleagues who also professionally just happen to be missing their external genitalia, buddy, strap in (and maybe strap on, depending).

Don't let me oversell how much these guys are in the show. They're not. They're vaguely important at points throughout, and they become incredibly important near the end, but they're hardly main characters. They're mostly back at the palace, doing their various schemes and looking absolutely fantastic.

So if they're such a minor part of the story, why do they get their own selling point? Well, I think their presence is a good example of two specific things about the show:

Specific thing the first: It's so queer -- not gay, but queer. Thinking back to my last selling point, you will notice how many of those straight pairings may look normie on the outside, but once you get down to it are not playing by cishet rules. (For instance, I've seen a lot of people read Tang Lian's resistance to sexual advances as asexuality, which, sure!) Likewise, there are lots of incredibly important, intimate relationships that don't conform to standard romantic pair dynamics. Add to that a lot of bodies with unusual characteristics and conditions, and you've got the makings of plenty of delightful non-normative love stories.

Specific thing the second: There are so many things going on with so many side characters that there's a kink here for everyone. Don't care for eunuchs? How about slinky villains with mind-control powers? Devoted servants who would do anything for their masters? Former bad guys who owe life-debts to the good guys who saved them? Bonded pairs traipsing around the jianghu together? Sons nursing legitimate grudges against the men who killed their fathers? Alcoholic widowers with incredibly slutty necklines? Mysterious cross-dressers with unconvincing moustaches? Vengeful brides? Martial siblings? Murderous royals? Guilt-ridden half-siblings? Boring star-crossed lovers? All these and more! It's a smorgasbord of rarepair fuel!

Also, I just love these toxic drama queens. It's like if RuPaul's Drag Race had the authority to have you executed.

4. The most intriguing outfits I've ever seen in anything (and yes, I'm including Winter Begonia)

Time for a fashion show!

The asymmetrical fits, the detailed embroidery on everything, the brilliant colors -- everybody just looks so good. And yet everything still looks ... eh, I don't know if "practical" is the word I want, but at least wearable. Nobody's dragging ten-foot trains of fabric behind them or wrapped in eighty floofy layers of gauze (except Rui, but she's special). Their outfits are strange and elaborate, but they don't defy physics.

What's truly stunning is how often they get new outfits. Xiao Se alone changes clothes about once every other episode, and more if he's getting a flashback. He is the fashion plate of the whole series, and every look he serves is pitch-perfect.

They're not outright color-coded, but the main characters do have certain colors associated with them -- which is extra-fun when you watch those colors bleeding into their friends' clothes as their relationships get stronger. I also think -- and I'm willing to be proven wrong on this point, but I think I'm right -- that they recycle some characters' outfits into parts of other characters' outfits. On more than one occasion, I'd swear that Lei Wujie shows up wearing the left half of something Xiao Se was wearing a few episodes back (tailored to fit him, of course, because that dumb ponytail boy is tall).

Where I think the costume design gets massive points, though, is that the costumes are themselves adaptations.

Before the live-action series, there was a 2018 3D animated donghua. I have never watched the latter, but apparently the drama is intensely faithful to the animated visuals, to the point where some fights are shot-for-shot remakes.

Of course, you can do a lot more with unreal clothing and bodies in animation -- and you can show a lot more skin, at least according to Chinese content laws. The live-action costumers chose to preserve about as many of the appearance beats from the donghua as they could manage, while still accepting the limitations of real-life bodies and materials. You can see some side-by-side comparisons here. The live-action outfits manage to be instantly recognizable without being slavishly devoted recreating to their inspirations.

So if you're sick and tired of dreary, ill-lit shows with bland palettes, this vibrant, colorful drama may be just the thing for you. It's a rainbow from start to finish.

5. Actually a good central plot?

Despite all the wacky delightful shounen nonsense that this show has -- and it has a lot -- the core of the whole narrative, which is Xiao Se's story, is surprisingly great and cohesive.

The short version is this: Xiao Se used to be Xiao Chuhe, sixth prince and somewhat heir apparent. Then he and his jerk-ass dad had a falling-out that resulted in the prince's having his martial arts abilities all but taken from him. He's been living the life of a very well-dressed innkeeper for several years, trying to avoid all of that palace garbage. But now his jerk-ass dad is dying, which means that a lot of horrible decisions are finally having unfortunate consequences for everyone, and Xiao Se's got to get back in there to make sure everything does not go to shit and land someone terrible on the throne -- even if it has to mean taking it himself.

His central conflict is between what he used to be and what he's become. Does he miss being Xiao Chuhe, high-ranked martial artist and future emperor? Or is he happier being Xiao Se, long-suffering nobody who can barely run a business, much less hold his own in a fight? What would he be willing to do to get back what he's lost? What are his obligations to himself versus his obligations to everyone else? How much is he responsible for his father's bullshit? And why has he wound up having to babysit this stupid Fire Puppy?

It's okay, they're best friends now. Lei Wujie decided.

No spoilers, but I liked Xiao Se's ending a lot. I feel it's very true to the character and shows a real understanding of who he is and what he values. And really, at the end of the day, sometimes all you need for a happy ending is your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend who's also your boyfriend, your other boyfriend, his girlfriend, and your long-distance for-real soulmate.

Feel like giving the youths a try?

You can find them on YouTube or on Viki. But be absolutely sure that no matter where you watch it, you make sure to go watch the epilogue as well. (And if you get real into the story, well, here's a link to information about all the other adaptations.)

You are also welcome for how I did not spend this post going off for five hundred years on how much I love Wuxin and his funky relationship to Buddhism. I figured that's way too niche of a selling point for most people, and might indeed have even been counterproductive. But know that I could have.

Also, I'm very happy about the announcement of a second season, because that's going to mean Liu Xueyi has to shave his head again, and he looks unbearably good with a shaved head.

Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the whole motorcycle photoshoot?

In case you hadn't noticed, the whole cast is stupidly hot. Hachi machi.

[alovesongshewrote]

Slightly Stabbed | The Lost Boys x Reader

Plot:  you get a little bit stabbed.  oopsie? [The Lost Boys x GN!Reader]

Word count:  3807

Warnings: first aid, stab wounds, blood, the reader has some issues but it's ok

A/N: this is literally a fanfic in headcanon form, holy fuck.  tumblr almost couldn’t handle this thicc thing

Sooooooo, here’s the thing about dating a group of vampires

They uh

They can smell blood

AND I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE THINKING, BUT WE AREN’T GOING THERE

At least not today

No, today we’re discussing the fun challenge that is Hiding Your Stab Wound From Your Four Boyfriends

(five boyfriends if you want to add michael, and five boyfriends one girlfriend if you want to add star)

Either way

All these bitches can smell your blood, which makes hiding injuries Difficult

It literally doesn’t matter how little blood there is, the second that red shit escapes your flesh prison, they Know

It makes papercuts very difficult, because you’ll be reading, you’ll get the papercut, and then one or more of them will just Appear behind you like

“Hi, could I offer you a band-aid?  Or perhaps you could offer to give me a sip of your blood?”

It’s a fuckin

Process

Also, RIP to you if you ever get scratched in the face by something, because some of these fuckers

(paul and marko)

Will just

Lick your face

They don’t even give any warning, they’ll just lick you

It’s

It’s an experience, to be sure

It’s even more of an experience if you go with the idea that they have forked tongues

But anyway, we aren’t here to talk about little injuries

We’re here to talk about Stab Wounds and How To Hide Them

Short answer: you can’t hide them.

Aaand that’s it, thanks for coming to the TEDTalk everyone, rmr to like and subscribe, blah blah blah

Long answer:

Let’s start with how you got the stab wound

Because that’s very important

Now

There are lots of ways to get stabbed

The boardwalk isn’t the safest place

And i mean, you’ve seen the “people are strange” sequence, there are missing posters fucking everywhere

And yeah, all that murder that could be just the boys, but also

There could be other killers wandering around, you don’t know

There are also vampire hunters

And random delinquents

And people who just

Don’t Like The Boys

And by association, don’t like you

Whatever it is, whoever stabs you

They manage to get you one of the few times you’re on the boardwalk alone

To any passers by, it just looks like a fist fight- probably something that came out of harsh words and youthful anger

But alas, the sharp stinging in your side says something else

Actually, it’s less saying something else, and more screaming it

Nevertheless, you manage to fight off your attacker, and then you’re left standing on the boardwalk, your hands covered in blood as you try to put pressure on your wound

It’s a very strange experience

You’ve got a hole

In your side

You’re leaking blood

And you almost don’t know what to do next

But you know you can’t exactly go home like this, so you end up walking through the crowds on the boardwalk, fighting off shock and trying to ignore the bright lights and joyful screams around you as you try to find a bathroom to clean up in

If anyone notices that you’re hurt, you don’t notice them

Eventually, you find a bathroom, and once inside, you lock the door behind you and take a look in the mirror

As you stare down your reflection, you silently pray that the wound looks worse than it is

In part because it looks really bad

Like, bad enough to freak you out

But you’ve also got your fingers crossed that it looks worse than it is because, uh

If you die alone in a random boardwalk bathroom, David will kill you.  

And yeah, the thought of an angry david sobers you up pretty quickly

You start doing first aid on yourself

You’re no pro, but you do your best with what you have

You clean the excess blood off of your wound with paper towels and tap water

At first you’re so focused on speed that you forget to be gentle

You regret it

But you quickly learn how to get shit done efficiently without needlessly torturing yourself

And thank fucking god, the wound does actually look worse than it is

The stab wound isn’t deep, and it didn’t hit anything important

It’s just gross

Once the bleeding stops, you frantically wash all of the blood off of your skin

And then you realize that you don’t have much to patch yourself up with

You end up using your jacket, which was already stained with your blood beyond repair

You rip it up for bandages, and then you realize that you’re uh

You’re probably going to have to get another shirt

Because yours has Noticeable Bloodstains

And not only will your Vampires notice that

But so will the General Public

So yeah, you buy a dumb t-shirt from the boardwalk

It says, “i survived the murder capital of the world and all i got was this stupid t-shirt”

You find it hilariously ironic that you are using this shirt to hide the fact that you almost didn’t survive the murder capital of the world

Anyway

You yeet your old shirt into a random fire, and then you head on back to the cave, hoping for the best

(hoping for the best here means: hoping that you don’t start bleeding again)

You don’t

And hey, when you get to the cave, it looks like the no one’s home

So that’s another win for you!

You walk on in and let yourself collapse onto one of the couches

And i mean, you instantly regret it, because ow

But it’s nice to feel something soft and comfortable after the time you had

You can’t relax, though

For one thing, every time you close your eyes you’re back there

Either getting stabbed by a stranger on the boardwalk, or shaking in the bathroom trying not to bleed out

You can feel your breath coming faster as the adrenaline in your system fades away and you start to realize that you were just stabbed

Someone pulled a knife on you, and they stabbed you

They could have killed you, you could have died, and you’re lucky you didn’t, but also, you’re not super lucky because you still got stabbed

And you really liked the shirt that you had to burn

And for another thing

There’s a vampire standing in front of you

When you open your eyes it makes you jump and scream a little

Which irritates your stab wound

Which makes you scream more and curl in on yourself

It’s very confusing to poor paul, who was already very confused because he could smell your blood even though none of your vampires bit you that day

Also, it’s not super relevant but you should know: he does kind of look like the “mom i frew up” meme

Or at least he does at first

Because the second you start to curl in on yourself, he is on you

Usually he’d apologize for startling you, but right now?  Right now he can tell something’s up

Your boys might be dumbasses, but they’re more than smart enough to know when something is wrong

So, paul goes all

“Hey pretty thing, are you okay?  What’s wrong?”

And you

You don’t want paul to worry, and you don’t want him to get mad at you for letting yourself get stabbed

And you really don’t want to talk about your stab wound in general

You just want paul to go so that you can have a panic attack over it in peace

But he doesn’t go

So you respond with

“I’m fine!  Totally, totally fine, I just slept on my side weird and it’s bugging me, that’s all”

And y’know what, you’re actually mildly convincing

Too bad he can smell your blood

Thanks to that fun vampiric trait, he knows you aren’t telling him the truth

So, he leans in a little further, eyebrows furrowed, and he says

“You can tell me, baby.  What’s wrong?”

Luckily (depending on who you ask) you don’t have to answer him, because marko drops into the cave

Yeaaaah, you were lucky enough to come home like, two minutes before the boys did

Rip

Anyway, it doesn’t take marko long to notice the scene on the couch

You’re curling up into the armrest and paul is leaning over you

It looks weird

And

You’re clutching your side

And paul looks concerned, so like i said, these boys may have like, three solid brain cells between them (three and a half if you want to count star) but they fucking Know when something’s up

Especially when something’s up with you

So, marko bounces over

And now he’s asking what’s wrong

He leans over the armrest of the couch

So he’s standing like, behind your head

And he asks, “What’s up, hot stuff?”

You lean your head back so you can look at him, you roll your eyes at the pet name, and again you say

“I’m fine.  Paul’s just being a dick”

And paul, who now looks majorly offended, collapses onto the couch by your feet and goes

“I am not!  I’m being a concerned boyfriend, you’re being a dick!”

Paul picked the wrong place to sit, because you kick him in the leg as hard as you can without hurting yourself

It’s not super hard, but paul acts like you stabbed him, ironically enough

While you and marko grin at his dramatics, david and dwayne drop into the cave

And uhhh, they’re much harder to distract, so good luck with that

Literally from the second they get into the cave, they’re both honed in on the smell of your blood

They make their way towards the couch you’re all crowded on, and as they do, david says

And he projects a bit, so the sound echos off the cave walls

“Why do I smell blood?  Paul, Marko, did you start something without us?”

His tone is chiding, maybe a little teasing

But the second he sees their faces, his taunting demeanor drops to something much scarier

Concern

And now david says your name

And his voice gets a little deeper as he asks you why he can smell your blood

As you struggle to come up with an answer, david and dwayne make their way over to the couch

Dwayne, Known Sweet Boy, comes up behind the couch, takes your hand and kisses it

He doesn’t ask you anything, but he also doesn’t let go of your hands

You don’t look at his face

If you look at his face, you know he’s going to look back at you with an expression that is 100% concerned puppy dog, and you will crack like an egg and tell them everything

And then it’ll become a huge deal

And they won’t leave you alone

And you’ll probably cry in front of them

And you’ll make them waste their night taking care of you

And then you’ll get yelled at for being stupid, so no

You do not look at dwayne

Instead, you focus your attention on paul, who’s focusing on david, who’s focusing on you

And for a second, everything is silent

Then david kneels at your side which is fuckin

Rare

He likes to feel tall, kneeling is the Opposite of that

But he does it nonetheless

And he says your name again, and you Don’t Look At Him, you just keep your gaze straight and pretend to be somewhere else

Of course he says your name again, sounding more irritated this time

And he asks

“Why can we smell blood outside of the cave?”

And you relent a bit by answering

“Hey, it’s not like I’ve never bled around you before.  Remember that time I fell?  Or the time I gouged my shin open?  Or the time one of the pigeons bit me?”

Yeahhh, even you know it’s a stupid argument

No matter how much blood you’ve lost around them, you know it doesn’t match this

And marko puts your thoughts to words

He legit says

“Yeah, but it’s never been this bad before, babe.  What’s wrong?”

And after that you’re just

Bombarded with the boys asking some variation of “What’s wrong?” over and over

You cling to dwayne’s hand as their voices start to overwhelm you

But then he pulls away

And you just can’t take it anymore

So you yell

And you don’t mean to yell it, you just want to be heard

“OKAY, OKAY, fine, I’ll tell you”

They shut up, and instantly your voice drops like

A million decibels

As you say

“I… I may have been… lightly stabbed.”

There’s a beat of silence and then

“I’m sorry, you were STABBED?”

Dwayne breaks his silence, looking horrified, which is almost funny, because you know his methods of killing are a little more brutal than “stab the victim with a knife”

But then again, he’s never tried to kill you, so

Anyway, dwayne’s outburst is followed by paul and marko both shrieking some form of “excuse me”

(“I’M SORRY, WHAT?” and an actual, “EXCUSE ME?” respectively)

David is silent now as the other three just

Lose their shit

Paul is demanding to know where the wound is

Marko fucks off to go hunt for first aid supplies, but you can still hear him shouting about it

Dwayne has taken your hand back and he looks into your eyes as he asks

“Who did this to you?”

And quietly, you go

“Some douchebag on the boardwalk- look, guys, I was only lightly stabbed-”

And there’s another outburst

Paul and marko both yell that being “lightly” stabbed still isn’t good

Dwayne looks like he might kill someone or start crying, you aren’t sure which, maybe both

And that’s when david grabs your jaw

He’s surprisingly gentle with you- though, considering the stab wound, maybe that isn’t really a surprise

Either way

David makes you look at him, and he asks you

In a voice he reserves for quiet moments, which this isn’t, and special occasions, which this technically is

“Where’s the wound, baby?”

With a sigh, you tear your eyes from his and gingerly lift up your new shirt to reveal a blood-soaked makeshift bandage, which itself covers the shallow wound in your side

Haha, fuck

You wince at the sight of it

But your boys remain stone faced- if anything, they look angry

Except for paul, who also winces, but in a split second he goes from wincing to pissed like everyone else

And you let out a groan, because this is the one thing you were trying to avoid

Anger and concern

Just as you open your mouth to apologize, marko slams a small box of first aid stuff on the floor by the couch

You move to reach for it, but instantly, several pairs of hands are on you, pushing you (gently) back onto the couch

You

Roll Your Eyes

Fuckin vampires, always treating you like glass

“Hey, I’m not four years old,” you say, trying to sit up again, “I can treat my own stab wound”

Yeah, as you say it you manage to catch just how absurd your words sound

‘I can treat my own stab wound’ who says that?

You do, i guess

And you intend to follow through, but hey

You get pushed back down again

“Stay still, wouldya?  Goddamn,” Marko fuckin growls as he pins your shoulders down, “We’re trying to help you, so stop moving.”

You give a very defiant wiggle.  No one is amused but you.

With an irritated sigh, you resign yourself to staying on the couch

But it doesn’t stop you from trying to get them to leave you alone

“Look, guys, I’m fine.  Don’t you have anything better to do than poke at me?  Seriously-”

“Ha, you’re cute,” the response comes from paul this time

Paul who has, by the way, taken to holding your legs hostage

He continues with a very blunt

“But seriously, shut the fuck up and let us fix this, ‘kay?”

You glare at him, but with your legs and shoulders pinned, it’s not like you have much of a choice

So you just

Lie there

And try to pretend that this whole thing doesn’t make you want to break down crying because fuck, you couldn’t just almost get murdered, you also had to be a burden

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

As you lie on the couch, the night’s events replay in your head

And as your emotions build, every shitty thing that happened to you that particular week also replay in your head

As marko starts to patch you up, and dwayne takes over pinning your shoulders down, and david starts plotting the murder of whoever did this out loud, you just

Try to stop them from seeing that you are Not Doing Okay

And here comes second, even tougher challenge:

Hiding Your Feelings From Your Four Boyfriends

Yeahhh, you fail at this one, too

Paul notices the tears in your eyes right the fuck away

It helps that he’s looking at your face, and not focusing on the marko medical drama going on at your side

He reaches up towards your face and he just says

In the softest fucking voice

“Hey, what’s wrong baby?”

And you just

Snap

The tears come to the front, just a bit, but it doesn’t stop you from yelling

“Jesus fuck, CAN YOU ALL JUST FUCK OFF SO I CAN CRY ABOUT THIS ALONE?  Go hunt, or something, just- just go away.”

…

They do not just go away

They don’t really know what to do with that

They just know that you’re hurting and it’s bad

And they Don’t want to leave you alone

So instead, paul and dwayne give your leg and shoulder a squeeze, respectively

In like, emotional solidarity

And david leans in towards you so that you can hear him say

“If one of us was stabbed, you would be upset, right?”

You nod and he continues

“So why is it any different for you?  You’ve been stabbed, you’re allowed to have emotions.”

You’re in the middle of processing that when marko

dear marko

Gives your shoulder a very awkward pat and says

“Besides, crying is sexy!”

And he states it so matter-of-factly

And he does it with this little smile, that you’re sure is supposed to be comforting, but oh my god

David smacks him on the back of the head for that while you just

Start to giggle

It’s which devolves to a weird mix of laughter and tears

It’s like

Mostly laughter

Meanwhile, paul just starts to openly mock marko for his, “crying is sexy” comment

And before you know it, your side is properly bandaged up

Yay!

But of course, it isn’t over

Less yay!

You’re finally allowed to sit up, and immediately paul yoinks you into his side

He clings to you a little bit, too, like he’s not sure he’ll get to hold you ever again

And yknow what it makes sense, you’re human, and fleshy, and easily breakable, and you got stabbed

He’s allowed to be freaked out, too.  They all are

Anyway

The second you’re up, david is on his knees in front of you again

His hands are on your thighs, and now it’s his turn to ask

“Now tell us, baby- who did this to you?”

You give them best description you can, and just like that, they’re all headed for the exit

Except for paul, who’s still clinging to you

But before they can leave you call out to them

And you say, “I’m sorry.”

Every single one of them freezes

The next voice you hear is david’s

He asks

“Why would you apologize?”

And you take a second to answer

Because in your head you have several answers for him, but it is

Very difficult to express them out loud

And as you figure out how the fuck you’re gonna verbalize any of your feelings, the boys come right back to you

Marko plops down on your other side, dwayne stands behind you, and again, david is in front of you

But you can really only focus on david, because once again, he’s on his knees with his hands on your thighs, and he’s looking at you with a mix of confusion and sadness that you rarely see on his face

And finally you say:

“I- um.  I’m making all of you worry.  And it was stupid of me to get stabbed in the first place, because I could’ve gotten myself killed, and then I fucking cried everywhere, and-”

And that’s where you get cut off

Because david leans in (and moves his hands up your thighs) and he says

“Now, why would you ever apologize for all of that?”

You look up and meet his eyes as he continues, but he’s turning to look at the boys around you as he says

“I mean, if we apologized for being stupid then Paul and Marko would never stop apologizing- and if we had to apologize for getting stabbed, well-”

Everyone looks at marko

And that little shit just grins like he didn’t almost get murdered by a bunch of teenagers, and he says

“I’m not apologizing for that.”

It’s a little shit thing to say, but david nods and says, “Exactly, so you don’t apologize either.  It’d be stupid to apologize, okay?”

You nod a little bit, and he smiles and says

“That’s it, babe,” he kisses you on the forehead and he stands

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we have to go commit a murder.  We’ll be back, don’t go anywhere.  Paul, you’re good staying?”

Paul promptly buries his face in your shoulder and gives david a thumbs up

Marko stands up, stretches, and starts to bounce away

Dwayne leans down and kisses your temple before he also walks away

Marko then runs back to you to kiss your cheek (he got excited about the oncoming murder)

Aaand that leaves you and paul alone

You turn to face him

(you fail, because he’s not going to move his face from your shoulder until he wants to_

And you ask

“Hey, don’t you want to go do some murder?  Doesn’t murder sound fun?”

And i mean it does

But that’s not the answer you get

The answer you get is a very stressed sounding

“IF YOU PEOPLE KEEP GETTING STABBED, I’M NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO MURDER BECAUSE EVERYONE I LOVE WILL BE STABBED.”

Yep, you and marko really did a number on this poor guy

So, that starts challenge three

Not Getting Stabbed For The Mental Health Of Your Four Boyfriends

It’s an easier challenge, you succeed at this one

Idk about marko tho, marko’s probably gonna get stabbed again.  Not necessarily by a person.  Maybe by a fence.

anyway

[lemonhemlock]

tried watching the new queen charlotte series but was immediately put off by the ridiculous anti-corset propaganda, so get ready for another rant.

first of all, this is the georgian era so what she's wearing are called /stays/ - corsets are a victorian invention. why do we still not know this in 2023 when period productions have remained consistently popular throughout the years? the concept of tighlacing (the goal being a reduction of the waist) is also victorian and was not the norm at all and v much an extreme practice. this understanding of history is so superficial, it's as if an alien were to open up People magazine and conclude that all human women resort to butt injections and lip fillers to stay with the fashion of the times. also, no, you cannot tighlace in stays to obtain a waist reduction because they are shaped like a funnel (picture 1 = long stays, 2 = short regency stays, 3 = corset)

charlotte goes on to complain about how dangerous whalebone is and that it might kill her if she makes the wrong move. what the actual fuck? whalebone was actually the very best material to use for this because it was sturdy yet flexible and allowed the /stays/ to completely and comfortably mold around a woman's unique body shape. one of the reasons why today it is v difficult to replicate the same effect in corsetry is because we do not have access to whalebone (killing whales is not cool for obvious reasons) so corset-makers have to resort to other materials like plastic or metal, which CAN break. whereas whalebone doesn't really break as easily. furthermore, stays/corsets were NEVER worn on bare skin, but with a chemise/shift underneath.

why did women in the past resort to this type of undergarment, you ask? well, apart from the fact that women need bust support, the stays also serve the purpose of allowing all the many skirts and petticoats to be placed comfortably onto the waist. you try piling on that much fabric around your bare waist and see how you like it and if you can even carry it all around without it cutting into your stomach.

clothes throughout human history did cater to the popular fashions of the time, yes, but they also reflected the technological limitations and there was thus a practical aspect to it. this is a time before elastic bands, before industrialization and fast fashion, clothes are v difficult to make, everything is done by hand, so a lot of care is put into preserving them, because they are /expensive/ and labour intensive. you don't want your fancy outergarments to get ruined so you wear a lot of undergarments to absorb your bodily fluids since those are easier to make and don't have to look "pretty", can be stained and patchy etc. again, why do you need so many layers in the first place? because this is a time before comfortable heating, with poorly isolated and drafty houses, and it's bloody cold otherwise.

the third reason why that monologue was so dumb is because CHARLOTTE is the reason regency court dress was so preposterous. long story short, in a few decades, the fashionable silhouette changes wildly from the late 1700s to the 1810s.

the regency waistline was much higher and the gowns were much more flowy and unstructured than the late georgian ones (what's commonly known as the empire waistline). the long stays of the late 1700s were now replaced with short stays that really were similar to modern bras. the scene in the first season of bridgerton where they squeeze penelope's sister into what looks like a pair of long stays (?) is bonkers bc no one would wear a waist-constricting boned undergarment under a regency dress. why would they? the natural waist is not even emphasized in any way. this is just another reason to peddle the women-were-oppressed-by-their-lingerie agenda. so if charlotte really hated long stays that much, regency would really have been her time to shine, right? wrong. the woman loved the fashions of her youth so much she forced everyone who came to court to still comply to them, which is why we get the absolutely atrocious regency court dresses - essentially a combination of the georgian style with side panniers, but with an empire waistline.

yeah, this is how daphne SHOULD have looked like when she was presented at court in front of charlotte. i can understand why the showrunners decided to just leave her in a regency silhouette because this is ugly af. but, anyway, queen charlotte is the last person on earth to be complaining about how uncomfortable stays are.

creative licence aside, the reason this pisses me off is because it is SUCH lazy storytelling. the show wants us to know charlotte is a spunky pseudo-feminist character so the easiest way to do that is to have her complain about the evil 'corset' trying to kill her. it is so profoundly ahistorical and does nothing to contribute to the conversation about women's true problems and true limitations during that time. instead of genuinely exploring social history and women's actual lived experiences, we are STILL, in the year of our lord 2023, diverting the discourse towards fabricated issues that never existed in the first place.

the reasons actresses complain about boned underwear in interviews are manifold. costume designers are very overworked, they have to produce clothes for hundreds of people in a very short time, so they simply do not have the time or resources to construct corsets/stays that fit the actresses like they are supposed to. in the past, these garments were made individually for every person and completely to their own requirements. they also make these actresses wear the boning on BARE skin to look extra sexy to the audience or to emphasize their oppression - that never happened, a shift was always worn underneath (hello dakota fanning scene in the alienist??).

moreover, they lace them up until they constrict their ribcages - these women are already super thin and their bodies cannot support more reduction - instead of relying on the historical practices of padding and illusion. nowadays, body parts are what's fashionable - that's why so many resort to fat transfers or breast implants or starving themselves to achieve a flat stomach. in the past, anyone of any size could have accomplished the fashionable silhouette because they had a wide array of accouterments to plop underneath their garments - panniers, bustles, hoop skirts, padding of any sort. it didn't matter how big your waist was, you just padded other areas until you achieved the desired shape. fat women wore corsets/stays, too. working women, who did a lot of physical labour, did the same. how were they able to perform all of their tasks if they were incapable of moving or breathing? even today, people wear medical corsets all the time.

TLDR the media's obsession with portraying modern women as so liberated because they wear bras instead of "patriarchal" underwear is so tedious.

EDIT: Some very basic chronological tadpoles to make this easier to place within historical context. "Georgian" is used to denote the 18th+ century when Great Britain was ruled by several kings named George, so roughly 1714-1830. Within this interval, we refer to the Regency period as encompassing the regency of Prince George, future King George IV, when his father George III was incapacitated by mental illness. The official political regency took place during 1811-1820, but culturally speaking, this was extended to roughly the end of the 18th century up to maybe 1830 or 1837. This is the time period of Napoleonic wars and Jane Austen novels, so all her heroines should normally wear Regency styles. Think "empire waistline" as in Imperial France and Napoleon. The Victorian era (and its corsets) follows throughout the rest of the 19th century. Queen Charlotte was a contemporary of Marie Antoinette's, so they should be dressed in similar fashions (robe à la française vs robe à la anglais).