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ramp-it-up · 11 days

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II Most Wanted Pt. 2: Pedal so heavy

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup" (w/ Betty Bronco)

Summary: The feelings are getting real as you make a decision about giving Jake Syverson the time of day (or night, rather) at your 20 year reunion.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, fluff. Flashbacks, horny teenagers being horny (over 18 tho). Prom night, early 2000's music, mentions of sex acts, "Captain" kink, mentions of teenage pregnancy, divorce, breakups. The Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Reckless driving?

Read at your own risk. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is the second installment of II Most Wanted. I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

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May 2024

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

When you heard that, you went into fight or flight mode. Rage, regret, and sadness all flooded your body at once, and Sy’s eyes flicked down to your dominant hand which was curling into a fist. A wry smile started on his lips, and then he straightened up and looked you in the eye as he started to speak again.

“Butter-”

You shook your head, which silenced him. Then you raised your chin, released your fist, and turned your back, walking toward your friends.

—---

Get out (LEAVE!)

Right now

It’s the end of you and me

It’s too late (NOW!)

And I can’t wait

For you to be gone…

Carla and Tiffani followed as you fled to the restroom.

“Why did you even tell him I liked him? I blame both of you.”

You were hurt, so you brought up a 20 year old slight and lashed out weakly at your friends. You were trying to ascribe meaning to your emotions.

How could everything still hurt this much?

Carla wasn’t having it.

“Unh unh. No. Nope. We were sick of you running your mouth all the time about how cute he was. And Jakey boy had heart eyes for you since the day you walked into school, despite Becca the Bitch. After they broke up, we had to put you both out of your misery. It had to be done.”

Tiffani was nodding her head in agreement.

You sighed.

“‘M sorry guys,” you sat on the bathroom vanity and smiled to yourself about your Powerpuff councils in the 3rd floor Central High bathroom all those years ago. Then you grimaced when you thought of Sy.

“I just… Can’t…”

“So what just happened?”

Despite your surliness, Carla was ready to go to war for you.

“He wants me to go talk with him, ‘someplace quiet.’”

“Wow. Your air quotes are kind of aggressive.”

Sweet Tiffani was also calling you out.

“Maybe you do need to talk to him. I heard what happened, and it’s kind of a lot. A hell of a story.”

“Tiff has a point. You forbid us to say his name after you two broke up…”

You interrupted Carla.

“After he found out Becca was pregnant, you mean..”

“...That is a part of the story you need to hear. She did him dirty. They split when he finished his first tour. He asked about you, but you were already engaged to Scott…”

You’d heard that Sy enlisted instead of going to State for football like he planned when Becca fell pregnant, but the bit about the split hit you like a ton of bricks.

But why? And what did it matter now?

“Sy spent the better part of the last 20 years in Afghanistan, and I think it’s because…But that’s not our story to tell. You really ought to talk to him.”

“I don’t have to do-”

Your voice was a little shrill and you closed your mouth when you heard yourself. You stood in the bathroom awkwardly until the familiar beginning of a song wafted into the room:

“Teen drinking is very bad.”

Carla and Tiff started screaming the next line:

“Yo, I got a fake ID tho.”

The beat dropped and they pulled you out of the bathroom onto the dance floor.

One, here comes the two to the three to the four Everybody drunk out on the dance floor Baby girl ass jiggle like she want more Like she a groupie and I aint even on tour...

…..Everybody in this bitch getting Tipsy.

This was your thot song, and after a minute of standing there, fake offended by their dancing, soon you were shaking your ass with your lifelong friends.

—-----

Sy knew how much he was trying it when he asked you to talk, but he had been waiting 20 years for this chance.

Tonight was the night.

And he wasn’t going to let the night pass without shooting his shot. But the truth needed to be told first. He hoped that you still cared enough to let it happen.

When you stared at him blankly, he started to sweat. He knew you lived your life since then. He feared that any feelings you may have had for him were over and done with. But then he saw your hand balled into a fist, and hope entered his heart.

Sy never shrank from a fight; hell, he’d started too many, but he never wished for someone to sock him in the mouth as much as you.

He wanted to fight with you.

And he wanted to make it up to you.

His heart dropped when you walked away, but he decided to let it ride and give you some space. After you disappeared into the bathroom with Carla and Tiffani, Sy ventured into the venue, ready to interact with others now that he had laid down the challenge with you.

—---

You were having a ball dancing with the girls until that song came on. You stopped moving, the hair raised on the back of your neck. When you turned you found Sy staring right at you. You’d managed to ignore him the entire night, but this song and his blue eyes were wearing you down.

I'd sure hate to break down here Nothin' up ahead or in the rear view mirror Out in the middle of nowhere, knowin' I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin' So, God help me, keep me movin' somehow Don't let me start wishin' I was with him now

You walked toward Sy, drawn to him as if on a string. You had that feeling in the small of your back as you stood before him, the one that you hadn’t felt in ages, and suddenly everything felt inevitable.

Just like it did 20 years earlier.

—---

May 2004

On Prom night, you came out of your bedroom and Sy’s mouth dropped open. His eyes never strayed from your face as he murmured,

“You look amazing.”

You blushed and smiled while your mom ‘awwwed’ and went to get her camera. You approached your boyfriend and he took your hand to twirl you around as he appraised the rest of you in your sleek emerald green dress. When you faced him again, he was licking his lips, trying to make the look on his face respectable. You smiled because you could read his mind.

Sy didn’t flinch as your mom called him “Jacob,” and you didn’t have it in you to be annoyed as she took a couple of pictures. Sy’s hand on your waist and his thumb gently stroking the exposed skin at the opening on the side of your dress made you shiver in anticipation.

You were caught up.

Soon, Sy was loading your bag into the back of Betty, and pulling off, your mom having accepted your explanation of staying over Tiffani’s after going bowling with the group after the prom.

In reality, a bunch of the crew were renting a huge chalet in the mountains, 45 minutes away. You and Sy had your own room, and you were ready to give him everything that night. You were distracted, imagining having your way with him that night.

And Sy was right there with you.

“Y’know, Buttercup, we can just head on up to the chalet.”

He cut his eyes over to you to watch your reaction. When you didn’t answer and just bit your lip, that’s when he knew.

“Our suite has its own bathroom with a shower in it. We’re definitely using that this weekend. Can’t wait to see you all soapy and wet. ‘S all I could think about in the shower tonight. Almost jerked off to the image, but I decided to save it all for later…”

Sy knew you too well, and had keyed into how you responded when he talked dirty to you. He was priming the pump for later.

You pictured Sy in the shower, his lithe muscles clenched as he fisted himself, made you suddenly need a drink of water. You cleared your throat and found your voice.

“We have to go, Sy. I spent so much time getting ready. And you look so handsome in this tux….”

You skimmed your hand down his lapel, down his torso to his thigh, and you quickly ascertained his situation. He grinned at you.

“You’re right.”

Sy winked, smiled and concentrated on the road while you tried not to be a slut in the passenger seat. By the time you reached the venue, you had yourself under control. He parked, then turned toward you.

“Let’s have a good time tonight, Buttercup. Think you can keep your hands offa me for a couple of hours?”

You scoffed, and Sy took your hand and kissed the back of it, then turned it over and kissed your palm, smoothing the joke away because in reality, It was him who couldn’t help touching you.

“Don’t want to mess up your makeup right now… might ruin it later tho.”

You whimpered in his grip as he kissed up your arm and you tucked a long errant curl behind his ear.

Sy’s eyes went soft and he held your hands in your lap.

“Y’know, we don’t have to do anything tonight. We can dance all night if you want to. Bowl the blue balls away.”

You laughed and Sy fell in love even more. You were so beautiful.

“I love you, Buttercup, and us having sex or not won’t change that, not one bit.”

You melted as you stared at your handsome fella. He was fiddling with your hand, and then you felt something cold on your finger. You pulled your hand back and saw the delicate white gold ring with a tiny perfect diamond in the center that had been his grandmother’s.

You gasped.

“Sy!”

You looked from him to his grandmother’s ring. You’d come across it the first time you were over his house, ‘studying’ in his room on a chilly November night after football practice. You were being nosy and looking at everything you could touch as he went to get some snacks.

Sy was embarrassed when he came back and saw you with it. You thought he was mad at you for snooping, but he wasn’t. He’d told you that it was just a ‘tiny little ol’ ring, not worth anything,’ and that no one would want it, but that his Gran had left it for him to give to his future wife.

“But, I’ll propose to someone with a bigger ring than this.”

Sy’s denim blue eyes held yours for a beat. Your heart flipped. You didn’t know why, because you’d only been talking for a couple of weeks and this was the first time you were alone together.

You didn’t know that Sy was repeating something Becca had told him when she turned her nose up at the antique when she happened to see it, and you didn’t care as you took the black box and sat down on his bed. You stared at the ring inside like it was the crown jewels, and after about 5 minutes of studying it, you looked up at him.

“Well. I think this ring is beautiful and precious. The detail is stunning. Your future wife would be lucky to get it.”

That was exactly when Sy realized that he was in love with you.

Back in the Bronco outside of the prom, you were in disbelief.

“What are you doing Sy….?”

All of a sudden, you felt too young for this moment. But after only six short months together, Sy knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Calm down, Buttercup, this is just a promise ring.”

He kissed your hand again.

“I know we're jumpin' the gun, and we're both still young.”

Those eyes held you in a trance.

“But one day, we won't be.”

“Oh, Sy…”

“It’s my promise to you, Buttercup. I will love you ‘til the day I die.”

And it seemed kinda crazy. But you believed him.

—-

May 2024

I made it this far without cryin' a single tear An' I'd sure hate to break down here Oh, no

It was either the music, the dancing, or the alcohol, or all three that made your mind up, but you were ready to listen to what Sy had to say.

Stephanie Prince, the class president, was calling the Homecoming court up to the stage, and Sy looked that way. Anger bloomed again inside you.

Damnit, Sy needed to choose you this time.

“You still wanna talk, Sy?”

Your body language that screamed aggression: the cocked hip, the crossed arms that pushed up your tits, the tapping foot in those heels, all made Sy soft on the inside and hard on the outside for you. When he answered you, his voice broke.

“Ye– yeah.”

Christ, you had him weak. But he made a decision, found his strength, and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the Marriott.

You followed him obediently, and that set him on fire. He stopped and turned around when he reached the Bronco.

But he didn’t let go of your hand.

You two stared at each other in the late spring night air, stars winking down on you two.

“So where we goin’, Sy?”

Being this close to him again, and the feeling of his touch made all those 20 year old pheromones perk up again. Damn, this man.

This huge, handsome, hairy man.

“Where do you wanna go, Buttercup?”

What your brain was doing was insane, so you just kept silent.

Becoming mute was one of your tells. Sy was elated that maybe you wanted him, at least physically. He was so thirsty for you.

“Hm.”

Sy grunted, straightened up, loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, all while still holding your hand. It was like he didn’t want to let you go.

And he didn’t.

“Tell you what. Let’s take a spin in Betty. See what’s up in the ol’ town.”

Your eyes flicked toward the truck, and you knew it was dangerous.

But you were grown now.

And so was Sy.

Sy led you around to the passenger side door to help you up into the high profile vehicle, leaning over you to buckle you in, only releasing you to put his hand on the door.

“I can’t believe you still have her,” you whispered, indicating the Bronco. “How is she still the exact same condition?”

“She’s been in storage for the better part of 20 years. Thought about her everyday though.”

Sy was looking at your lips, and the memories came flooding back.

“I bet she missed you.”

Sy cocked his head and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. His voice came out gruff and he had to clear his throat again.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, Sy.”

Any smooth line was lost as his brain short circuited with the concentration it took to not kiss you right now.

“Well, we’re about to have some fun together again, you, me, and Betty. Sit tight, pretty lady.”

Your cheeks heated at the compliment.

“Ok, Captain.”

Sy actually blushed, shook his head and closed the door, leaving you to breathe in the old leather smell of the Bronco with your eyes closed, conveniently leaving him to pump his fist behind the car unseen by you.

He got back in the car, jacket off. And he leaned near you to place it on the back seat, you got a whiff of him, the familiar cologne adding another dimension to your roiling senses.

When you opened your eyes, you witnessed him rolling his shirtsleeves up his forearms. He caught you ogling him and you gulped and crossed your own arms and legs, angling yourself to look out of the open window.

Sy looked over at you closing yourself off from him, then smashed the gas to make sure that you'd squeal and grab his arm like the good ol’ days as he peeled out of the parking lot, pedal so heavy like you were the two most wanted criminals in town.

—---

Hit reblog if you like it!

Next part Here

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ftmtftm · 9 months

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This isn't something I have fully articulated thoughts on yet but honestly? I really do think that transandrophobia and the way people who talk about their experiences with it are isolated is, in part, why transmedicalism existed (exists still? I'm very detached from that discourse now) as a primarily trans man/trans masc dominated ideology.

I'm going to share my own experience and I can only speak for myself here, but when I was a really isolated late teen/early 20-something dealing with a lot of unresolved trauma re: my assault (that happened as a result of me coming out as trans to an ex), some immediate family's reaction to my transition being "well why can't you just be a masculine woman", and frustration about not being able to medically transition yet combined with the mid-2010's pressure to be a non-threatening feminine soft boy, I got sucked into transmedicalism.

I do want to be upfront and recognize a lot of my feelings at the time were a trauma response and projection. I recognize this now but I had no resources to recognize that then. I just want to make it clear from the start that I know my own thinking was flawed, that's why I'm reflecting on it openly so others can potentially recognize something that resonates here within themselves and grow.

Getting back into it though- I felt really triggered all the time in general trans spaces because of that 2010's culture. I felt pressured to be feminine or a woman in trans spaces online, just like I did around my ex or at home. I didn't want to undercut my masculinity or manhood for other people's comfort, especially not for other trans people who I felt should've understood. In contrast to this though, transmedicalist spaces and the trans men within them DID actually offer the support I was asking for. I was actually given space to talk about my assault and the pressures I was experiencing with a bunch of other trans men/trans mascs who understood it for the first time, ever really.

The idea of "there is a medical explanation for gender dysphoria that can be treated with medical transition" was also really comforting to my traumatized mind that kept thinking "if I'm open about my assault someone is going to accuse me of just being traumatized and not actually trans, if medicine is on my side I can prove them wrong" Which - let me be clear again - was a very traumatized way of thinking. I do not think that way anymore thanks to therapy and cultivating a healthier relationship with my body and gender and transness. I was not the only trans man with a history of assault that felt this way in the transmed community at the time though.

And I'm not justifying any of this ideologically right? Like. Transmedicalism is fundamentally flawed and incorrect in many of its ideas about sex, gender, and gender identity. Many people who believe in transmed ideology spout some absolutely horrible, transphobic bullshit on the regular and often align their ideology with conservatism and TERFs. I'm not here to defend transmedicalism.

What I am saying is this: It makes sense that a group of ostracized individuals who felt like they had no space to express their traumas would cling onto transmedicalism because it was the only ideological community giving them space to talk about it. Hate movements thrive on preying upon those kinds of vulnerable, traumatized people.

I'm just thinking about a lot of the friends I met via transmedicalism back then and now they're all either TERFs with a lot of repressed trauma and internalized transphobia that I've since cut off completely or they had a similar realization to myself and discovered their attachment to transmedicalism was rooted in trauma and a desire for trans masc community, addressed it, and now they live much healthier, happier lives.

I'm losing steam fast thinking about all of this because recounting trauma takes a physical toll on one's body BUT tl;dr I really do think if we had healthier spaces to address trans male/trans masculine traumas within the wider trans community via conversations about transandrophobia back 5+ years ago we wouldn't fully be here now wrt: how large transmedicalism became as a movement. I genuinely think I wouldn't have been sucked into that space if there had been more resources and space to talk about the experiences I was having, all of which are things people naming transandrophobia are trying to address in healthy manners.

I think healthy, open, conversations about transandrophobia in wider community spaces can do so much good to protect people who were in vulnerable positions like I was and can absolutely potentially prevent more people from getting sucked into the false support offered by hate movements within our own community.

#transandrophobia #transmisandry #transmedicalism #discourse /#long post /#ftm #trans masc #trans man #original post #first post too wooo !! i figured i should make myself a space to actually talk about this stuff so i stop bothering my gf 💀#she's cool with it i'm just autistic and talk a lot and knows she needs breaks lmao

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 8 months

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Yandere! Stereotypical! Emo x Stereotypical! Popular bitch! Reader

Okay, so this is a songfic... NSFW at it's most, a lime at it's least.

Not the songfic that has lyrics on them, but fics that are heavily inspired by songs. And this time, it's Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica.

I'm not that knowledgable with Emos to be fair... I'm only doing it in a way where the fic reads like a stereotypical late 90's and early 20's teen flick! I think. I hope.

Also, the bitch here means someone who sleeps around quite a lot, and not the mean type. Just wanna put that out there.

So, I do apologize if I offended someone ಥ‿ಥ

Like any song fic, I recommend listening to Emo Boy while reading.

Yandere! Emo name: Ashton

TW: stereotypical Emo, stereotypical popular bitch

Ashton always had a fascination with the Emo lifestyle. He loved the music associated with it, especially the people indulging in the lifestyle. He loved how emotional and in tune they are with their emotions and is not afraid to show who they are.

When the got the opportunity to study senior high school in a small yet lively town, he knew he had to grab it.

And when he finally got out of the grasps of his conservative family, he felt free.

No more people calling him demon worshipper, finally (although, now that he thinks about it, aren't the goths the one being called demon worshippers?)

So with black skinny jeans, long, dark black hair that covered his eyes, rings, piercings, chains, sneakers, and a graphic tee shirt, he knew he was ready.

But what he didn't expect was being ostracized by being Emo.

But then, don't people like him always get bullied?

With a grumble while sitting on his chair, all alone, he gripped his pen while in the middle of writing a poem.

"Nobody understands me." Ashton muttered, his dark eyes a stormy grey.

This school he's in is filled with stereotypes, he just realized. Mean Jocks and Cheerleaders, two faced popular bitches, pushover nerds, slobbery otakus, social outcasts... He wonders if his life is a real life teen flick.

So rather than dive into the complicated social hierarchy, he just sits in his seat, reading and listening to MCR and P!ATD just like a true stereotype.

His life filled with such deep melancholy as he trudged in this hormone filled prison that he calls a school.

Hmm. He should write that in his journal.

But then he woke up in his bedroom, his hair having a cowlick he can't put down.

Okay... That's weird.

Then, when he tried to tease and straighten his hair, it won't budge, forcing him to let it stay wavy/curly and covet his eyes just like that.

Then, his favorite graphic tee was eaten by rats...

And his sneakers were accidentally bleached...

Then, as if the day was mocking him, it was really sunny and hot, smiling and cooking him in his dark ensemble.

"What the fuck..."

He suddenly felt a foreboding dread inside of him.

When he got in the school and sat down at his seat at the back, he heard whispers of a new person transferring to this school.

The talk of the town, y/n, was now being speculated which clique they will belong in.

And when they rolled in a pink rover, the school crowd knew they're going to be in the popular rich kids.

Immediately, you integrated into the clique like it was a natural thing to do.

With your quite the revealing clothes, your bimbo/himbo like personality, and your knack for bedding people if you wanted, you got into the social hierarchy just like that. Labeled as the slut, you paraded around the school with that title with your newfound friends.

Trendy, social, quite the airhead, yet charming in your own right, and such a seductive figure too. Nobody can resist your charms.

Not even Ashton.

He tried to fight back the attraction he had with you, and your fashionable pink fit, and fluttery eyelashes.

But he can't.

The hierarchy said no, and his brain also says no.

Yet his heart sings yes.

And he always follows his feelings and his heart.

It was small efforts at first. Poems, love letters filled with such romantic words.

All slipped in your locker, in a cute pink envelop and a sweet sampaguita smell on it.

You knew who it was from, and you loved it.

"Are you really interested in that Emo boy in the HUMSS department?" One of your friends asked, sipping on a disguised flask of alcohol.

You and your friends are in the rooftop, hanging out and skipping classes. Gossip flies out of your mouths and recent "relationships."

"Yeah I am. He's cute and funny... And him being soooo in touch with his emotions is soooo hot." You said, a typical valley accent on your tone.

You twirled your hair and bit your lip, a hot feeling in your body.

You really don't know why you're so attracted to him.

"I just really want to see and feel how good in bed he is." You nonchalantly added, fanning yourself a bit.

Your other friends grimaced a bit.

"... Really? But he's so..."

"Dark."

"Weird."

"And so complicated with his words."

"He's also always alone and listens to those sad emo bands."

You huffed and cocked your hips to the side.

"Hey! He's emotional and deep!" You rolled your eyes. "Besides, I just want to fuck him. I mean, I haven't been with an emo boy."

You thought back to how Ashton walks away from you in those tightest skinny jeans, his ass round and his legs toned.

You wondered really as to why you're so... Desperate to fuck him. Because most of the time, other people are the ones who want to fuck you.

Frustration welled up inside you as you groaned.

"Yeah I truly wonder why myself." You grumbled.

You grabbed the letter from your back pocket, reading Ashton's poem for you.

I burn for you. Your lips so tantalizing, So pillowy and so sacred. It's something I, so lowly am I, Cannot dream of locking with mine. I do not need to know if you're the devil, Tantalizing as you are, Or the deity you claim to be in my dreams, Bringing retribution to my dark and dreary life. Your body so tempting, I want to embrace and bury myself within you. I want to claim and mark you as my own, My bleeding heart corrupting your alluring self. But I know I can't. So I only look at you with starry eyes, As you shine the most beautiful in a pedestal that I molded in your visage.

You understood the poem a bit, and it irritated you.

"What do you mean you'll not pursue me?!" You yelled, gripping the letter. "I can't believe he'll confess like this and not... Go for me?!"

Your friends chuckled and read the poem and was surprised to see how whimsical this confession of lusty attraction is.

"Wow... Okay, I give you my blessing to bed him." One of your friends said and you rolled your eyes and snatching the poem away from him.

"I know. And I'm trying." You spat out. "I need a stress reliever. Let's go shopping."

What you didn't know is that Ashton is listening to your confession, and is fighting the urge to take you then and there.

He smirked and tried to calm his fast beating heart as he slowly unbuckled his pants, lust filling him as he continued to replay your confession of wanting to fuck him.

Maybe next poem will be an invitation to his house.

The sound of bed creaking filled the dark room, along with the pants and moans of two people indulging in the desire of flesh.

"Hmm fuck... Ashton..."

"Y/n you're so tight..."

You moaned as Ashton continued to thrust inside of you, his throat audibly clearing as sweat trickled down his throat.

Your eyes trailed down his body, loving the feeling of being under this man.

The hot and damp air encased the two of you, giving a secure and secret paradise, away from the prying eyes.

"Harder Ashton!" Your raspy voice demanded, gripping his arm as he pushed your thighs to the sides of your torso, bending your back as he went deeper, faster, and harder.

"God you make me feral..." Ashton groaned out, feeling your walls squeeze around him stubbornly, not wanting to let go as he pushed you into a mating press in an animalistic need to bury himself deep within you.

The bed creaked violently, accompanying the orchestra of your moans and groans as you both desperately reached your high, and when he spilled inside of you, you knew that you wanted more.

So you kissed him on the lips deeply, interlocking your tongue with his as you both worked into getting into it again.

Yet, as Ashton smirked and gripped your thigh once more, ready to go, a stray perfume bottle rolled under the bed from the movement, a label on the bottle printed "love potion" on it.

A sweet smell of sampaguita permeating as a drop fell on the floor, glowing.

So if you don't get it, Ashton sprays the love potion on the poems he gives you, making you irrationally desperate for him as he is for you xx.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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rhey-007 · 8 months

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*+:｡.｡ 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝕸𝖆𝖟𝖊 ｡.｡:+*

FP Jones x reader | 18+ SMUT

Summary: after saving your brothers ass from serpents, you get a pleasant surprise from FP

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (f receiving), slight age gap (reader is 20, FP in his late 20's), outdoors sex

Author's note: it's my first time writing smut 🫣 so I apologise in advance (just in case) 😅 enjoy!

It was 31st October 1995, Halloween.

Your first Halloween as an adult.

Your father was a farmer known for his halloween corn mazes so it was obvious that you would help him prepare it for halloween. You would go inside and place various decorations, starting from jack-o'-lanters through scarecrows, finishing at bedsheet ghosts. That was a standard, but this year you also decided to hire your friends to dress up as monsters, hide in the corn and scare people. Of course you weren't an exception either. You dressed up as a blood thirsty nun that greeted children, teens and adults by the entrance, and later joined your friends inside the maze, while your father sold the tickets dressed as a murderous clown.

You found scaring people fun, especially the kids. But your enjoyment came to an end later that evening when you had to come back to the reception and replace your father for a while. That's when a scarecrow like creature came running in your direction. Though it didn't take you long to figure out it was your older brother Ben, who must have gotten himself in some shit again, followed by a couple of furious serpents.

You didn't say a word, just shook your head disapprovingly and shoved Ben into the maze. As you later found out, your brother angried the serpents by stealing from them, it wasn't a lot but you knew each gram of heroin was worth the anger. Ben quickly left but managed to shout you a short thanks and sorry.

Now you just had to deal with the serpents...

When they made their way to you, you would finally see who it actually was, and of course it couldn't be anyone esle than Forsythe Pendleton Jones II with his two sidekicks. In that moment you knew you'll have a hard job to do. You didn't know FP personally, but you heard a lot about him, mostly bad things, and you started to worry you wouldn't be able to handle them.

''What do you want here FP''

You stood in front of the gateway and looked the man up and down, just as he did to you.

''Move. Kid.''

He hissed, but you just furrowed your brows and crossed your arms. No one's gonna call you a kid, especially not that douchebag. You stood there in silence for a while, neither of you planning on moving, so you finally spoke up.

''I don't care what he did, but I'm sure you're not pleased with that. But instead of chasing him and trying to beat his ass maybe you should try to think of a way to prevent more situations like that, huh? ... Oh wait! You can't, you're too dumb''

You smiled at him sweetly after your short speech. FP curled his hands into fists angrily, a vein about to pop on his forehead. He had enough of the bratty girl so he just shoved her to the ground and run into the maze. The girl took too much of their time already.

After getting up from the ground and dusting yourself off, you looked at your watch wondering how much time it would take the three to come back. In fact it didn't take them a lot as just after few turns they were lost. Good thing one of them memorised the way, so they came back the same way they went it. You smirked triumphally seeing three slumped figures leave the maze, you knew well they wouldn't make it far.

At night you sneaked into Ben's room to retrieve the stolen goods, you couldn't let him take it after all.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🎃 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next day was time to clean the maze and gather the corn. You and your best friend Ashley cleaned it from the early hours of the day and just by accident FP knew about it. In reality he met one of your friends he's seen you once with in the town and forced that information out of him. He came to the attraction early enough to already find you inside. The man sneaked in without Ashley noticing and found you quite qickly as you weren't far away.

''You already finished Ashley?''

You asked as you heard someone move behind you, but you couldn't care enought to turn around. Well... not until you heared his voice.

''It ain't her''

He said as he came closer to you. You gulped softly not expecting to see FP there.

''The attraction is closed, come back next year''

You huffed, trying to stay calm and not show the slight fear that boiled inside of you. Why you were so scared suddenly? Because you had nothing to defend yourself with and the look in his eyes made you feel uneasy. FP looked at you as a predator would look at his prey. He moved closer and closer until he had you squished in a corner.

''If the attracion is closed then why are you still here, sugar?''

The nickname made you feel sick, which you couldn't say about his cologne that weirdly calmed you down. FP put his hands on your hips and squeezed them gently.

''Not a lot of people stand up against me... Yet you...''

He licked his lips while looking down at you.

''You did it without a second thought just to defend your stupid brother. And you know what?... That turns me on''

FP didn't even give you a chance to say something before he smashed his lips on yours. You had to admit you were pleasantly surprised, which sounds weird considering the fact that you didn't even know him. But he was handsome... really handsome, and you always had a thing for him that you never admited out loud, even though he was older than you and it felt a little inappropriate. So when he kissed you, it just took you a few second to kiss him back, which surely satisfied and exctied the older man.

You pulled away when you felt breathless and looked down not wanting to make eye contact with FP, a dark blush appearing on your pale face.

„You've just kissed me as if your life depended on it and now you're all shy?"

The man mocked, his hand reaching up to capture your chin and lift it up so you would look back at him, a wicked smirk was painted on his face. It really suited him. Soon FP's hand wandered back to your hip to then grab your ass. You squeaked when he picked you up, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck. He put you down on hay bales stacked together then started his unholy ministrations on your neck, earning quiet moans from you every now and then. If that wasn't enough, one of his hands rubbed your thigh up and down, each time coming closer to your aching core, while the other creeped under your shirt, slowly making it's way to your breasts.

„Fp... „

You moaned out, your hands gripping his mucled arm and burgundy T-shirt. The man took it as a sing to proceed further, his hand slipped under your bra and started to massage your breast. Your palm slid down his clothed torso to meet his semi hard member and grip it gently. He groaned into your ear when you did that and bit it softly then captured your lips into another, more aggressive but still passionate kiss.

„God dammit sweetheart... „

FP couldn’t wait anymore, he unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down then did the same to your shorts and panties. You looked down, your mouth in slight agape. He was huge, at least he seemed like it, you didn’t think you'd be able to take him all but you were wrong. With one swift thrust he was balls deep inside of you. A juicy moan escaped your lips which made FP slam his hand on top of them.

„Shh... We don't want anyone to find out, do we?"

He whispered and tilted his head softly. You just nodded obediently and let him fuck you. His hips moved with an agonizing yet sweetly pleasuring pace. You never thought sex could be that good, and it wasn't your first time.

„Shit... Ya feel so good... „

He groaned out. His palm moved from your lips to your neck to grip it softly, your own hand quickly following it signaling your worry about the act.

„Don't worry... Don't wanna loose such great pussy so quickly... "

The man breathed out between grunts. You decided to trust him so you moved your hands to his cheeks to pull his face down for a kiss. In meanwhile FP started to circle his thumb on your clit, giving you even more pleasure and almost immediately making you reach your orgasm. He groaned dissatisfied into your lips and mumbled.

„Thought you'll last longer... Now you gotta gimmie another one sugar...”

He sped up his movement both on your clit and inside of you.

„I... I-I can't take it... Anymore... "

You've managed to say between moans, but it didn't seem to affect the man in any way, he just kept fucking you relentlessly.

„You on the pill? „

He asked suddenly when he felt the two of you were about to finish. You just nodded and soon another wave of pleasure hit you alongside the warmth of FP's seed spilling out inside of you. You both breathed heavily, neither of you going to say anything, just indulging in pleasure and silence. Soon FP pulled his member out of you, his semen slowly spilling out.

„Look at you...”

The man smirked triumphantly after tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants back up.

„Wouldn’t thought Ben's sister's pussy could be that good of a fuck”

You just rolled your eyes, you were kind of annoyed that you've let him fuck you but also really satisfied. You cleaned yourself with a tissue then put your underwear and shorts on.

"And I wanted to give you this back"

You said as you wiggled the bag of heroin in front of his face and shook your head with a smirk. FP smiled back at you and snatched the bag away to then hide it in the pocket of his jacket.

„When's next session? ”

You soon blurted out earning a little confused look from FP at first but his expression changed rather fast, as now he was smiling from ear to ear.

„I'll pick you up at 7. Now lemme help you get this maze cleaned”

After a some time, what seemed like a few quickies and fuck sessions turned into something more.

#fp jones x reader #fp jones #riverdale fp jones #riverdale #riverdale smut #smut #18+ fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #halloween

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simpingcowboy · 1 year

Text

Does Your Mother Know?

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x GN!Reader, age gap, reader is ~late teens-early 20's (but very of age they are an adult!!!!)

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: heavy flirting, mostly failed attempt at seduction, briefly overprotective parents, discussions of marriage, mention of threesomes, some puberty talk, allusions to virginity/sexual inexperience

Summary: Your attempt to seduce the Prince of Dorne, Oberyn Martell, goes unexpectedly sour when he sees right through you. That doesn't mean he won't humor you though.

A/N: The January everyone pretend I posted this 2 hours ago when it was still January thank you Edition of my Year of ABBA as part of the Year of Creations @yearofcreation2023 ! I thought I'd start us off on a fun one!! My first time writing for Oberyn :) enjoy!!!

You'd been in King's Landing for 10 days without so much as an unescorted walk along the palace. Maybe it was your father's paranoia, or your mother's awareness of your less "civil" interests but they'd kept you on a short leash. They'd been hoping to use King Joffery's wedding as an impromptu dating event, hoping to convince you to marry. But you had your eyes on a much better prize.

Prince Oberyn of Dorne. Tales of his…escapades crossed rivers and mountains as did tales of his beauty. If the tales were true- well you simply had to find your way into his bed!

Which is where you found yourself now. On the precipice on the prince's doorway. After sneaking past guards and the watchful eye of your mother, you had made it. You watch him lie lowly in the sun, feeding himself from a basket of fruits he'd had brought to him. The tales did him no justice. Spread across the lounger, he was long and slender, not much unlike a viper at all. He moved with an insurmountable grace. Every move of his hands was controlled and swift. Even now you could envision how he earned the title The Red Viper.

His face is uniquely chiseled. Dark brown hair barely curls up on his forehead. A beautiful arched nose that reaches up towards the gods, old and new. His soft pouty lips wrap around a strawberry. Juices dribble down his chin that he eagerly wipes off with his thumb and returns to his mouth. A quiet pop as he releases his thumb from his mouth with a smile.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" The Prince turns to face you, dark brown eyes tracing over the intruder. "Or do we have business?"

For just a moment, you freeze. Prince Oberyn's gaze sat heavy on your body, pinning you in place. His eyes drink down the sight of you. Suddenly, you were very pleased with yourself for dressing well. The fabric you wore was clung nicely to your body. You'd purposely chosen something that was soft to touch.

"My Prince," you say with an unsteady bow, "I was told you may seek some company up here…I thought I would offer you my services."

"Services?" He repeats, eyebrows raised. "What is it you have to offer me?"

"Anything you want, but I thought I'd start by feeding you, My Prince."

He chuckles quietly, resting his head back against the cushioned lounger. When you do not immediately go to move he prompts you, "I don't like waiting!"

"Y-yes, My Prince." With that you nod and shuffle over to him. Gods, he was even more lovely close up. His hair looks so soft and fluffy. You wanted to run your hands through it. From above, you can see down the low V of his mustard robe. His bare chest and neck were intoxicating to look at.

"The grapes to start." He hums below you, eyes closed.

You do as he asks. Taking the bundle of grapes and lowering them down to his lips. Watching with excitement as he pulls it between his teeth. A groan of happiness spilling from him. He continues on, one after another. A subtle smirk clings to his face as he feels your eyes trace over his body.

"Do you find this amusing?" He humors you, taking another grape between his teeth.

"I do not know what you mean, My Prince." You say smiling, trying to put on your best show.

"Posing as a servant. Feeding me grapes in this-" his hand falls from his chest and lands on your back, thick fingers tracing over the thin fabric resting on your spine. "most exquisite fabric. If I were a lesser man I would ask what you want, but I can see what you want." He leans in closer to your chest, "I can see in your face that your feelings are driving you wild." He smirks, reclining back in his chair with a laugh and removing his hand from you.

He'd seen right through you…your face grows warm at the realization. "I'm sorry, My Prince…I was curious-"

"Do not apologize." He cuts you off. "But I must ask- Does your mother know?" He chides with a smile

"Know what, My prince?"

"That her child has snuck out to proposition the prince of Dorne?"

"I am grown. I need not the approval of my mother."

"Grown." He scoffs

"Enough." You retort.

The quickness of your response catches his attention. His eyes snap up to meet yours, "Quite the tongue you have, Little Viper." The Prince slithers out of his chair, quickly crowding you. "Grown enough, hm? I will be the judge of that."

You whine at the harsh grip Oberyn has on your waist. He looks down at you, taking inventory of your features. Even going as far to spin you, wanting to look at you from all sides.

"Cute." The Prince marks nonchalantly. "But young." He says with a shrug. His hands fall from your sides as he takes a step back. "Come back to me in …two sun cycles. Then we shall see."

Recovering from having his hands on you, you slowly process what Oberyn said, "Two years?"

"Yes. Do you take issue with that?" He asks, returning to his bowl of fruits and throwing a raspberry in his mouth.

"I may be married in two years, Prince Oberyn. Do you not wish to take what is not already claimed?" You attempt to reason with him.

He smirks, "Certainly there will be enough room in your marriage bed for a third."

You pout at his assertion.

"Oh, do not pout Little Viper. I will still flirt with you." His deep brown eyes flick up to catch yours, "Dance with you…if you wish. But no more."

"My Prince…do most men not seek young partners? Why is it you turn me away?"

Oberyn muses the question for a moment, an eyebrow raised as he ponders. It was true, most men sought young brides and young men to take to their beds. Youth was priceless. A nonrenewable resource. But for Oberyn, he was always a bit greedy when it came to lovers. He cared not for young adults still struggling to fill out their frames. He wanted their entirety. The best of them. All of them there ever would be. Chests filled out, shoulders wide, faces matured. He wanted them at their best.

"Allow me to show you, Little Viper." The Prince offers you his hand.

You put your hand in his, allowing him to lead you away to the balcony. Together you cross the threshold to the bedroom where he leads you to a large mirror. He stands you before it, taking his place behind you.

"Look at yourself." He runs his hands over your hips. "I wish to see how you grow. You are a pretty rose…but not yet in bloom." He nips at your neck. "Here…" Oberyn's nose runs along your cheek, "your cheeks are still round with youth." A large hand runs across your shoulders. "and these are not yet at their full width." His other arm moving lower down your thigh, "Hips are lovely, but not yet at their proper shape yet." His hands retreat down your waist, holding you still for him. "You still have much growing to do." Oberyn comes close to whisper into your ear, " And I never pluck a rose too soon." Finishing his assessment, his eyes wander up to your face. a curious question growing in his throat. "Tell me Little Viper- are you untouched?"

"What consequence is it to you?"

The reflection of his face in the mirror goes serious. "Because. If I were to bend you over that table, and force my way into your walls the way you tempt me to. It would be a most unpleasant experience for one so pure." A pleased smile returns to his face at the way you hold your breath. "The price would be yours to pay, Little Viper. Thankfully for you, I consider myself a most merciful prince." He grounds his bulge into your behind, a low moan escaping him as he does. "Now. Return to the nest in which you came, Little Viper." He pushes you off with a firm snack on the ass, making you jolt.

You sciddle off shyly accepting his rejection. Perhaps you had been in a bit over your head. As you turn the corner off the balcony, you look behind you to see him watching you. Feeling a bit brave you call back to him, "In two sun cycles I will return!"

He smiles back at you, "I eagerly await your return, Little Viper!"

#Am writes #year of themed creation #year of ABBA #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn x reader #oberyn Martell x GN!reader #oberyn martell fanfiction

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

hi! So I was wondering if you do requests could I request Ghost x Horse Rider Reader? Thank you so much!!!

Yes! I love this idea, thanks for sending this over!! :)

I hope this is what you were looking for!

A/N: If anyone has any requests, please don't hesitate to send them over! I'll do my best to fulfill the request properly :)

Teach Me How To Ride?

Warnings: swearing, sexual references

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

You had always loved horses, ever since you were little. When you were young, you constantly found yourself at your local ranch, getting riding lessons, and spending time with the stable hands.

When you were in your late teens, and your parents realized that this was no longer just a fleeting childhood hobby, they had gotten you your own horse. He was a beautiful, young thoroughbred, and you named him Roach.

Through your early to middle 20’s, as you were finding your footing in life, Roach had followed you everywhere. Every location you ended up, Roach was at a stable just down the road from you.. Every new job, every relationship, every move, Roach was there with you. The bond between the two of you was unbreakable.

Very few people in your life got to meet your horse. It wasn’t something that you were always forthcoming with, as Roach was too special to you, to share with just anyone. That was, until you met Simon.

The two of you had met a few months back at your local bar in Manchester. Simon was home from deployment for a few months, and just so happened to stumble across the same bar you and your friends were at one night. You were walking to your friend's table with a handful of drinks, when you bumped into him, thus spilling your drinks all over him.

“Oh! Oh my god I’m so sorry! I am such a clutz!” You exclaimed, quickly grabbing a roll of paper towels from the bartender, and awkwardly trying to dry this handsome stranger's shirt.

“ ‘S fine, don’t worry about it. I needed an excuse to throw this old shirt out anyways.” He smiled back at you, waiving away your attempts to assist the clean up.

“Well at least let me buy you a drink, I owe you that much.” You offered, meeting his eyes. They were gorgeous. A deep brown, that had your cheeks burning from how intense his eye contact was.

“Fair enough, I’m Simon by the way.” He reached his hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N.” You replied, moving your hand to grasp his. The minute your skin made contact with his, you knew this man would work his way into your heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A couple of months into your relationship, you knew you were ready for Simon to meet Roach. Simon had just gotten back from a short deployment, and you couldn’t have been more excited for the meeting.

“Okay, so he loves carrots, absolutely adores them. He also has this little spot right under his chin that if you scratch just right, gets him all riled up and playful, and honestly it’s the most adorable thing ever.” You were rambling anxiously as you and Simon were walking toward Roach’s stall.

Simon found it adorable, the way you were so excited talking about your horse. He smiled down at you, as the two of you approached the horse’s stall.

“I’m sure he’s going to love you, I mean I do.. And I’m sure you’ll like him, he's really quite great- “ You started before Simon cut you off.

”Love, I can’t wait to meet him. I’ve not seen you this nervous since our first date. Aren’t I the one that’s supposed to be nervous here?” He joked softly.

“Oh hush. I just want my two best boys to like each other. Not everyday I get to introduce Roach to anyone. Especially not a loved one.” You admitted sheepishly, as you opened the stall door slowly, to not spook the horse.

“He’s quite a fine looking horse. I’ve not seen one like him before.” Simon said, as he studied the horse from the entrance of the stall.

“He's a pure thoroughbred, and he’s healthy as…well.. A horse.” You laughed at your own terrible joke.

“Now that one was bad, and that’s coming from me.” Simon said playfully.

You walked up to Roach, and pet his muzzle, earning a snort of appreciation from the animal.

“Come on over, he won’t bite.” You encouraged, waving Simon over to you. “Just place your hand slowly on his muzzle like I just did.”

Simon walked over, matching your movements, and the moment he started to stretch his hand out to touch Roach, the horse had met him halfway and threw his muzzle into the palm of Simon’s hand.

“Oh! I have never seen him do that! It seems he already likes you!” You exclaimed, a smile growing on your face.

Simon had a matching smile on his face, as he started to stroke the horse softly, who continued to snort in appreciation “ I didn’t expect him to be so..gentle.”

“If you treat them right, horses are incredibly gentle creatures.” You said, moving to stand next to Simon.

You both stood there petting the horse for a few minutes, before you threw out an offer to Simon, “After I take him for a warm-up ride, would you like to try?”

“I can think of something else you can ride later.” Simon replied with a cheeky grin.

“Oh heavens, Simon. I swear sometimes, the things I want to do to you.” You groaned sarcastically.

“Want to do what, exactly? Ride me?.” He shoved you playfully, the cheeky grin only growing on his face.

“Simon Riley I swear you will be the death of me one day!” You exclaimed, as you went to go grab your riding gear.

“What do you think, huh?Think I’ll be the death of her bud?” Simon asked Roach, who gave another snort in response. This caused Simon to chuckle, he could see why you enjoyed this guy so much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simon watched with you in awe, as you rode around a small paddock outside the stable. You looked so graceful on top of the animal, so free. The sight alone had made him fall in love with you even harder.

You rode up to him with a giant grin on your face, and jumped down from the saddle. “Are you ready to try?” You asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose. I’ve only ridden a few times before when I was younger.”

“He’s a great riding partner, he obeys every command. Trained him myself!” You declared proudly.

“Oh you trained him yourself? Crap, is it too late to request another horse?” He joked, dodging your playful attempt to smack his arm.

“Hush, you! Now get on before I change my mind and leave you here.” You laughed.

You helped Simon mount Roach, and assisted in adjusting the straps to make Simon more comfortable.

“How does it feel?” You asked, checking to make sure everything was in good order.

“Feels like I am on a horse.”

This time, he couldn’t dodge the playfully slap on his thigh. “What ever am I going to do with you?” You asked, huffing a small chuckle.

“Teach me how to ride?” He suggested with a wink.

“Heavens! You are on a roll today aren’t you! Alright, to refresh your memory, use the reins to steer, move them in the direction you want to go. Pull them toward you to move backward. Kick with your heels to his side to get him to move. Click your tongue to get to trot, make a kissing noise to get him to gallop. Got it?” You asked.

“Got it ma’am.” Simon replied. He took heed of your instructions and instructed Roach to move forward.

It took a few tries, but Simon soon found himself galloping across the paddock. He felt as free as you had looked when he watched you ride earlier. He didn't want to get down anytime soon, and ended up riding for what felt like hours.

Once he decided he’d had enough on his own, he rode over to you and held out his hand to you. “M’lady.”

You grabbed onto his hand, and he was quick to pull you up and over, placing you in the saddle right in front of him, causing a surprised gasp to fall from your lips. The seating arrangement wasn’t exactly comfortable, as Simon was 6’4 and pure muscle, but you didn’t complain, his gesture alone had your heart melting.

“This is nice, love. I’m glad you brought me here today.” He said, kissing the back of your head.

“I’m glad too, I couldn’t have imagined this going any better. I love you, Simon.” You said, turning your head to kiss him.

“I love you too, y/n.” He replied into the kiss.

You both had gotten lost in each other, the kiss deepening as time went on, only to be interrupted by a whinny from Roach.

“Ahh, it seems he’s eager for another ride. And NO jokes at what I just said.” You said giggling softly.

“He’s not the only one.” Simon replied, unable to help himself.

“SIMON RILEY!” You scolded, the two of you laughing as Roach started to move.

Simon understood why you enjoyed riding so much, he got why it was so addicting. The experience was thrilling and something he knew he'd want to do again and again. He was the happiest he had been in some time and wished for nothing more than for this moment to last forever. Just you, him, and Roach in the setting sun, riding around for hours, and that’s exactly what you did.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #ghost cod #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #cod imagine #ghost mw2

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 1 year

Note

figured i'd ask you since you're like, The Flash Fam Expert, but do you happen to know the rough ages of the flashfam? like i know irey and jai are nine, ace is somewhere in his late teens, and wally has to be late twenties at the youngest but i can't find many specifics on other characters and wasn't sure if you might be able to help!

OOF. That's a rough one buddy. You don't understand what you have just unleashed upon the world.

God. Alright.

Irey and Jai are nine physically and mentally. Chronologically speaking, they're still toddlers but don't worry about it.

Ace is around 17? Not yet 18 but older than 15. I would bet on 17 but 16 wouldn't be crazy either. Avery is the same age.

Jay and Max are over 100 but by how much, I couldn't tell you. They play their age close to the chest. Physically they look 50-60 though.

Here's where it gets tricky.

Barry, Wally, Jesse and Bart.

So, Wally would've been in his early 30's when his children were born. Definitely by the time Barry came back Wally would've been at least 30.

However, during the N52 reboot everyone got deaged around a decade younger, Wally included. Wally came out of the Speedforce wearing his Kid Flash costume, indicating that he was physically 19 at the oldest. It's been a few years since Wally emerged, so physically he would have to be around 21 at this point.

Wild! I know!

So yeah, Barry would've been... late 30's? Ish? When he died. He came back at roughly the same age and chilled for a bit. He would've had to have hit 40 at least by that point. But speedsters also don't really physically age? So he looked like he was in his early 30's.

The N52 reboot hit, putting Barry at... late 20's- early 30's. I would say, by now, that the man is at least 30. Potentially even 35. But he looks 25 because speedsters don't age. (Iris would be around 30)

Bart is going to be the most wild one here. Alright. I'm speedrunning this one, so if you don't understand what is happening, I'm sorry but it is too late for you.

He exits the time portal at physically 12, ages to 14 before stabilized. He ages to 16 at which point he disappears. He comes back as an adult for a year but is killed. He comes back, again, back at 16 and is allowed to chill for a bit (potentially a year), bringing Bart to 17 years old (physically) when Flashpoint and the N52 reboot hit.

Bart was somehow spared the ~10 year deaging but he wasn't spared the deaging entirely. Bart pops out looking around 12-14 years old again. He runs around for about a year ish, which brings Bart to physically 13-15 years old currently in comics.

HOWEVER, it must be stated that, like Wally and Barry, Bart's mental age has never been reset. His mental age did not reboot with his body, so mentally Bart is around 19-20 years old.

Jesse... Jesse is weird. DC likes to keep Jesse ambiguously young. When in doubt, Jesse is around the same age as Wally. So, currently she would be around 21. The same applies to Linda.

So yeah. It's weird because Barry was a guy in his 30's with a little baby ten year old Wally and there was at least a 20 year age difference there. And now it's maybe 9 years? But also Barry looks 25 because he's a speedster, so it looks like Barry is only 4-5 years older than Wally.

Honestly if you went off looks alone, it'd be Jay (50), Max (50), Barry (25), Wally (21), Jesse (21), Avery (16), Ace (16), Bart (14), Irey (9) and Jai (9). Which is WILD?! Their family looks like two gay dads adopted 8 kids. Other than Max and Jay, they all look within five years of each other. It's wild.

Speedster aging man... They just... don't. They don't age. They live on Neverland time 24/7.

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shivsdownstairsneighbour · 8 months

Text

Closer - End of the Line

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x Fem. Reader Description: You get hired for a photoshoot with the man behind Maesbury Capital for a GQ-style magazine. Shooting is often all about the price. Rating: General/Teen Word Count: 2.8k AN: Hope you enjoyed it as much as it to ideate it! All photos from which I drew inspiration were done for the GQ article and the NYT article. Props to Erik Tanner and Derrick Leung for giving everyone a vision.

You arrive to the studio just in time to start setting up the equipment and doing test shots to determine the flash intensity. The magazine gave you a list of shots that you would be best to prepare for the feature. The videocall with the stylist was a good opportunity to start making up an idea of what the vibe was going to be with the outfits. You decided it would be best to approach the shoot with some Black and Whites, focus on lighting and keep the backgrounds simple. The man in question was running late and, while you were comfortable with the conceptual proposal for Flux, you didn’t know how at ease the subject would be with trying more artsy pictures and not the classic Bloomberg profile portrait.

“Hey! So, it might take him at least another 20 minutes to arrive. Are you booked after this?”

“Not really, I would’ve just appreciated to be able to finish early so I could get the contacts back to you today.”

“You have until tomorrow night, so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

You were starting to get bored so, in the meantime, you Google a little more about your subject to see if that gives you any additional hints on how to relax him in front of the camera. The headlines were a mixture of financial press and good old classic gossip. On the financial side, Maesbury Capital was almost as getting a visit from the Grim Reaper confirming you were a dead man walking. His word made the difference between a lifeline or the dissolution of whatever you had going for your company. The pictures were classical portraits with him sitting in front of the camera, not doing much aside from looking straight into the lens.

The gossipy headlines were from years past. They portrayed a youth where there were frequent clubbing outings with models, socialites, and actresses around. Some shots were almost from 12 years ago and, while paparazzi would always be pesky with those under the spotlight, he seemed to be out of that circle and into galas. He looked good without the beard during his youth and, in his 20’s, he must’ve been quite the player in the NYC clubbing scene. In either case, he was favored by the camera, so that was not going to be hard to replicate.

In the meantime, you were blasting some rock and pop songs, testing the waters of what could work best to set a mood. You started to bop to some of the songs when the knock on the door alerted you of the arrival of the man of the hour.

“Mr. Hosseini, let me introduce you to our photographer for the day.” He went on to shake your hand as you introduced yourself. “She’ll walk you through the plan as we have two outfits planned.”

He was handsome indeed and he matched the description of both gossipy and financial news. Bloomberg and People agreed on his presence being imposing and how he could command any room he walked into. The one he shouldn’t be able to control was precisely yours as you were the lead during the session, but it would remain to be seen as the pause between your introduction and your next sentence showed a crack in the process.

“Yes! So, we will start with the lighter pictures, making use of the set we have here.” You said, pointing to the indoor area with the flash rig you had created. “And then, once you’ve change to the second outfit, we move outdoors, and we try some high contrast stuff.”

“Okay.” He said, looking at the set as he was processing the brief, before looking at you. “Where do you want me now?”

“Dead center of the set, please.” You were determined to take back your shoot, so as the make-up crew were finishing some final touches once he was under the lights, you took a couple of sips of your coffee to ground you back to reality.

He was sitting, in perfect composure waiting for your instructions. You stood beside him with the exposure meter angled to his face to get a reading for setting up the camera. The proximity gave you a whiff of his perfume. A luscious fragrance, mixing some strong hints of coffee and cigars. The session would get increasingly harder to control if you were going to keep getting distracted with anything pertaining him.

“I’ve always wondered what that is.” He asked, searching for your eyes.

“Exposure meter” You responded, looking chill outside, cancelling the train of thought coming from that gaze inside. “We wouldn’t want to have you look like a ghost on the pictures.”

“Is it even possible?”

“Today, yes. We’re shooting black and white.”

“Any particular reason for that?”

“I think it gives a more intimate, timeless vibe to the shots.” He smirked, seeming pleased with your response.

Picking up your camera gave you back the sense of control you needed. You configure it to the meter readings and started shooting some pictures to confirm everything was according to plan. He looked dazed by the first couple of flashes but regained the composure by the final practice shot. He was a natural in front of the camera, as the third shot was already useful.

“We’re now set to begin Mr. Hosseini. We’ll go for a bit of a chat to get some candid shots, and for others I’ll ask you to pose for the camera.” He nodded affirmatively. “Any questions or music requests?”

“Yes, one.” You raised your sight from the viewfinder. “It’s just Stewy if we’re going get intimate with this.”

“Alright then.” You shield yourself with the camera to hide the hints of blush that appeared after the statement. “Stewy, would you mind angling yourself ¾ for me?”

The initial pose was awkward, but after showing with your body that you were expecting his torso to be in profile with the face angled more towards the camera than out of frame, he started nailing your vision.

“First question, where are you from?” You asked, standing in front of his seat, at eye level from him, and safely shielded away from any direct contact with the camera between both of you.

“Originally, Iran, though I should count myself as a New Yorker after a lifetime here. You?” You answered with the summarized version of your life. You had made it to New York on an arts scholarship that eventually led to your big shot.

You asked him to keep the body posture and change facial angles, but this outfit seemed to be running its course faster than expected. He also seemed to be out of his element with the jacket open, showing the shirt. You asked for a 5-minute pause to check how they were coming along. One was useful, but the rest were giving you very little to work with.

“Are you comfortable with this?” You asked, pointing at the open jacket.

“I can be if you ask me to.” He says, testing the waters with how far he can go with subtle comments.

“It doesn’t work that way. I want you to be you, not business you.” You were probably too in control to notice he was trying to flirt. However, that didn’t matter as you were feeling stressed about the lack of potential in the initial shots.

He started closing the jacket and you snapped pictures of the process. As he was settling the collar, he was getting dazed by the number of shots you were trying to milk out of the process.

“Hey, hey” He tried to get your attention. “Is this really necessary?”

“Everything can be good material.” You said, trying to appear more serious than what was needed from behind the camera.

“Can we pause for a minute?” He said, playfully trying to grab the camera lens. “I’m getting blinded here.”

You pull the camera down, to find him standing closer than what you expected. You get a renewed whiff of the perfume, now having interacted with the leather jacket.

“Is this how it’s supposed to go? You were so relaxed before.” Stewy looks intently at you, leaving the distance of the camera in your hands be the only thing separating you two.

“I’m sorry about that but I need you to do your thing, without minding me, for the candids.” This made you pull your guard down and steal a glance from him being so close. The little glimpses of grey in his beard suited him so well.

“Can I see what I’m doing? Just for reference.”

You show him the monitor with the pictures already taken and give him a few comments. You make a mental note that the candid of him trying to grab the camera is definitely going for final selection. The left side lighting managed to capture the light contrast coming from his streak of grey hair and he looks relaxed. With some additional instructions, Stewy gets the hang of the candids and you repeat a couple of shots with the jacket open.

By now, you’ve learned that he studied at Harvard Business School, quit his rising career in McKinsey for starting Maesbury, and had been to some of the most exclusive bars around. You also start easing behind the camera, letting the atmosphere lighten from your initial absolute grip on the course of the session. He had an imposing presence, but you were guiding how that would translate into the shots.

“I’ll check one final time the monitor, but I think we’ve run this outfit’s course!” You said cheerfully, placing the camera on the table after almost half an hour of continuous shots. Stewy stands behind you, peeking from above the shoulder some of the final outcomes. A playful “No peeking” leaves your lips, making him laugh.

“How can I approve in which I look best if I can’t see them?”

“You won’t. I’m the one getting paid for that.”

“Controlling, I see.” He gave you a side glance before following the styling assistant for the outfit change.

In the meantime, you take a break to gulp the coldest water bottle on sight and start making notes of which pictures you’ll preselect for the contact sheet. You could trace the simultaneous process of you two getting comfortable with your roles. He let go the initial stiffness and you got comfortable directing him. Knowing the next shots were outside, gave you the full confidence you could finish with some quality content. You leave with your camera to the side of the building where the studio was located and start doing some practical shots for adjustment.

While you had seen the outfit pictures from the stylist’s videocall, nothing could prepare you for the final result. If he was looking in control with the first outfit, this one clearly settled who was commanding anything moving forward. The ultramarine blue outfit was doing a number or two on both of you. Stewy was clearly on his element, an impeccable tailored suit, giving him an almost regal look. The blue contrasted with the darkness of his hair and eyes and was ultimately elevated with a watch on a matching color. You were dreading to go with the exposure meter because every step tempted you more towards touching at least the suit lapels.

Standing in front of him, you got it close enough to his face to get the reading and exchanged a determined glance. You were not about to lose it so close to the finish line.

“Are you always so stately in your daily life?” You said standing in front of him, holding your ground.

“Do you mean in control?”

“No, stately. The suits, the watches, the whole cold business persona.” You say taking your stance behind the camera, ready to shoot.

“So, you’ve done your research.” He was standing full frontal, fixing his lapels as you started to shoot.

“I’m asking because that’s all the reference shots I had of Stewy the financier.” The lack of an external flash would give him less hints of any incoming shots. While he could put up more resistance to the guidance, you could get other shots, in motion, that otherwise wouldn’t come.

“What do you know about finance?”

“As much to know you’re like a death sentence.” The response made Stewy smirk and try to pierce the distance between the camera and you after your response.

“Some would call it the circle of life.” Something ticked in him, and he was determined to get his way.

“What’s in it for you? Power tripping?” You crouched to get a lower shot, angling towards getting his hands at eye level.

“Money, definitely. And control.”

“Is that why you want to select the shots? Or are you scared of what finance bros will think of this?” You said teasingly, though keeping a serious tone to match the severity with which he was looking.

“What do you want out of this spiel?”

“You.” You punctuated. “Show me you in absolute control.”

The next shots were a blur. No softness in his eyes, pure and unabridged desire to have it all laid at his feet. You try a couple of takes without the suit jacket to impressive results too. The dark background highlighted his greys and enhanced the depth of the blue suit. It made the exposed parts of him become accent pieces on an otherwise monotone setting.

“Is that what you were looking for?” He said once you lowered the camera and placed it across your chest.

“I’ll let the monitor be the deciding factor.” You say before spotting one final potential angle, something to be playful with since you had made none of those shots. “Before we finish, how about you give me one final angle? An extreme close-up if you will.”

Stewy stands by the doorframe, sunlight hitting his left side. You’re standing a step away from him, enough to get the scene in but benefit still from the extreme close-up angle.

“Do you want me to still dominate you?” He asks, his voice soft enough to make it seem an innocent remark despite the angle you’ve recently explored for the other poses.

“I highly doubt you ever were.” You respond, pulling your confidence out while counting on the camera as a shield. Stewy raises his hands, almost as a sign of a faint victory for himself, shooting a smirk from behind them. His eyes, while on the side, are still fixed in you. The confidence of Stewy Hosseini in one picture, you thought.

Once you walk back and plug the camera back to the screen, you start deciding what could work best for the contacts. You’d let the editors decide, but you were already partial on a five-picture set that would be best for the article. He was taken immediately to get changed and finalize the profile, so he didn’t get a peek of the final shots. The last moments outside had really made you see him in what he must incite in people once he walks into a meeting room. You surrender, let things take its course, and put some resistance but as a method for self-preservation more than salvation.

He came out of the dressing room on another stately suit, yet this was the actual one he had been wearing while you were setting up and chilling in the studio. He was wearing a sweater underneath instead of a shirt, giving it a more casual and welcoming presence.

“Do you have anything else to do afterwards?” He said placing a hand on the upper part of your back. Nothing suggestive until, as you two walked towards the studio entrance, the hand started sliding down towards the lower end of it and you were walking beside each other.

“I wasn’t so sure before, but I might now.” His raised eyebrow gives you an open window for proposing what you had in mind. “Have you ever heard of Rhomboid?”

“Do you know anyone?”

“A couple of friends are organizing it.”

“I’ll pick you up.” He handed you his card and you took it with the hand closest to him. “Dinner will be my treat.”

“In that case, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” You stop besides his car, and you hand him one of your business cards from your camera bag.

“Pleasure’s all mine.” As his car goes off into New York traffic you head home ready for a night about town and the new venue your friends scored for this week’s party. You’d have time tomorrow to sort the pictures out. But, tonight, it was all about power dynamics.

#succession #succession fanfic #stewy hosseini #stewy succession #stewy hosseini x reader #succposting #stewy hosseini imagine #arian moayed inspired fic #in a fun world it would've been nice to be in such a position as to do this

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lilyginnyblackv2 · 2 years

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T&B Clothes and Style Analysis:

This all started when I was thinking of a way to try and get a better gauge on Ryan’s age, but then it started to kind of become it’s own thing. Basically, something I’ve noticed is how aspects of many (though not all) the character designs are indictive of the decade they grew up in.

Let’s start with the oldest of our heroes (I’m limiting it to heroes so this post won’t be any more massive than I’m sure it will already be).

Kotetsu and Antonio: We know that they are both 38 in S2, so that means they were born in 1942. So their childhood and teen years were the 1940s and 1950s, and you can see the influence of those time periods on their outfits.

Back in the 1940s and 1950s cowboy inspired fashion was very popular. My grandfather had a bit of this style too, and he was born sometime in the 1930s. Of course, Antonio’s outfit is also meant to reflect his NEXT persona as well, being Rock Bison and having, iirc, a meat sponsor.

Meanwhile, Kotetsu has that snazzy look about him. Clean cut, button up shirt, tie, sleek and ironed pants, button up vest - his look is, in a way, rather hip in comparison to Antonio’s look. I also feel is has more of an upscale, blue collar vibe to it than Antonio’s, which style originated with blue collar, “working on the farm,” and legit cowboy types. Of course, Kotetsu doesn’t hold himself in that way, though I do think that his outfit is what adds to the moe gap and charm of Kotetsu. He has this put together appearance to him, but his life is a mess and he can be very immature at times, lol.

(This post is SUPER long and image heavy, so the rest is under a Read More!)

Next, let’s take a look at our newest heroes, since the 1980s influence on their style is obvious. All three of them are teens, so it would make sense that their fashion style and sense would reflect the 80s the most.

Subaru’s is, imo, the easiest to draw a link to in regards to possible inspiration. The outfits aren’t an exact match, but that puffy life preserver like jacket + jean pants combo just screams Marty McFly. I know he is also meant to reflect the “Red Ranger” trope found in series like Super Sentai and stuff like that, but I also think that Subaru’s problems with being looked down on and such is similiar to Marty’s with his issues surrounding being called chicken and what not. They can both be impulsive and quick to anger in that regard.

Lara has a school uniform on or, at least, an outfit inspired by one. Obviously, there are some liberties taken with the design, certain elements to make it cuter and more in-line with how school uniforms are often depicted in anime. The blazer top is really what gives it the 1980s Japanese school uniform vibe though. And since Lara is meant to represent magical girls, it makes sense that she would be wearing a school uniform.

Thomas has the most..anime-like outfit of everyone, imo. His outfit isn’t something you would someone wearing just every day, ya know. I tried looking a bit into high fashion/runaway fashion and the like, but didn’t get very far with that. I think the aspects of his outfit that have some basis in the 1980s though is the combo of “very shiny leather jacket” + tight jean combo like we see MJ wearing in his Thriller MV.

Okay, so now let’s take a look at characters that we know the exact age of, or have a very good, general idea of how old they are. First up here is Barnaby.

Listen, Barnaby’s outfit really doesn’t have much going on in the way of 60s or 70s fashion (the eras when he was a teen), but his hair absolutely does! Without a doubt, the inspiration for Barnaby’s hair was Farrah Fawcett and her hairstyle became popular in the 1970s, when Barnaby would have been in his late teens and early 20s. He had more of a general shaggy hairstyle in the few flashbacks we see of him as a younger teen.

This chunky gold chain is also very 70s.

Now we are more in the “we have a general idea how old they are range, and it was confirmed via outside sources.” The one that I feel most concretely on this is Karina, who is 19 in S2. That means she was born in 1961 (one year earlier than my parents, lol) and her childhood was in the 1960s and her teen years were pretty solidly in the 1970s outside of 19.

Whenever I think of Karina’s dress in S1, I my mind just always goes to the kinds of short dresses that were really popular in the Brady Bunch era. Other elements of her design are definitely different, but that dress is such a key aspect. Her S2 design feels more mature and like Mary Tyler Moore-esque.

Ivan, I believe, is 21 in S2. I think it was confirmed, somewhere, that he was 18 in S1. So he is only a little bit older than Karina and his teen years were the 1970s, period. Design-wise Ivan is a complete fish out of water. At least Barnaby had the hair and jewelry tying him to the 60s and 70s. But Ivan is meant to be a Weeaboo, so that whole idea and concept is far later, and his visual appearance reflects that.

However! Edward Said’s book Orientalism, which goes on to describe the term as:

the exaggeration of difference, the presumption of Western superiority, and the application of clichéd analytical models for perceiving the "Oriental world". This intellectual tradition is the background for Said's presentation of Orientalism as a European viewpoint reflecting a contrived Manichean duality.

(Source: The Wikipedia on Orientalism)

And that fits in with Ivan’s Weeaboo persona quite well. It’s a critical concept that is well known today (and which has a long standing documentation of existing before Said’s book was publish), but was only brought into the spotlight with this book in 1978.

Edit: Check out my reblog where I have more information on how Ivan’s outfit actually connects back to the time period.

The last character that we have a general idea of around about what age they are is Pao-lin. She was 13 or so in S1 and around 16 in S2.

The major inspiration for her outfit is obviously Kill Bill, lol. Especially with the martial arts and everything. But, of course, her S1 outfit also takes inspiration from jumpsuits that really gained popularity in the 1970s and tracksuits too. Her later outfits in The Rising and S2 are more masculine presenting and have her wearing tank tops and hoodies, both of which started becoming more commonplace as everyday wear in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. (This could also apply to Ivan, who is wearing a black tank top under his jacket.

Finally, we get into the characters whose ages are vague: Ryan, Nathan, and Keith. Now, Ryan is younger than Barnaby. That’s basically all we have to go off of really, but in The Beginning we can see that he looks in his late teens (he has a slimmer face similar to Thomas and Subaru).

His outfit there also has a very 70s disco vibe about it. Though the hair and other aspects of it are also a bit late 90s/early 2000s in feel too. His earlier designs were quite 60s and 70s inspired too:

The one in the top left almost feeling New Wave / Hippie-ish to some extent (a part of me would have loved if they went with that design, but I love his current design too). His outfit in The Rising (and S2, which I won’t even bother talking about here) are a bit more: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ design-wise.

The closest stuff I could find were like sports jerseys/sport shirts from the 70s and those shorts pictured, lmao. Those shorts are a bit shorter than Ryan’s, and they don’t have the more visually appealing hanging material, etc. But they do show how there were these sort of long shorts/pants in that era as well. Though, visually, Ryan still fits more in the 2000s era here. I started this whole research and post hoping that some of Ryan’s outfit could give more insight into his age...but nope, lol.

More info on Ryan’s outfit! :D

Anyway, our final two are Nathan and Keith. Nathan has made statements that make it seem that she is older than Barnaby and Keith, but likely not quite as old as Kotetsu and Antonio. I’ve always assumed that Nathan was in their 30s. Placing their teen years closer to the late 50s and 60s.

And while a lot of Nathan’s outfits can just be simplified to the idea of being flamboyant, I feel a lot of Nathan’s presence and the air about them is very similar to the Ballroom Scene of the 60s:

While the outfits are not one-for-one matches, there are similarities in posing, feathers, mesh, color choices, and just the outlines that are created. I will say that the shoulder pads in Nathan’s S1 outfit are far more 80s though, lol.

Edit: I realized I forgot to explain what the Ballroom Scene even is and how it relates very specifically to Nathan’s gender identity. From the Wikipedia page:

The Ballroom Scene is an African-American and Latino underground LGBTQ+ subculture that originated in New York City. Beginning in the late 20th century, Black and Latino drag queens began to organize their own pageants in opposition to racism experienced in established drag queen pageants. [...] While the initial establishment of Ballroom mimicked these drag queen pageants, the inclusion of gay men and trans women would transform the Ballroom scene into what it is today: a multitude of categories that all LGBTQ+ people can participate in.

There is a fantastic documentary on this whole subculture and scene called Paris is Burning (link is to the YT video of the full documentary). I watched it back in college in my Queer Studies class. It’s very enlightening and insightful, but it does deal with some heavy topics (SA, suicide, etc.). I definitely suggest giving it a watch if you can though!

Edit: Some more excellent information on Nathan's and Pao-lin's styles. Pao-lin's connection to Bruce Lee and Nathan's fashion connection to the 1970s glam era + visual kei (his The Rising outfit).

FINALLY! We have Keith. His age is completely unknown. I’ve always felt that he was closer in age to Barnaby than Kotetsu and Antonio. His outfit really doesn’t tell us much. It’s a very “All-American, Hard Worker” guys kinda outfit. Definitely something you would find in the 70s (image pictured above is from the 70s) and 80s, though his pants are more 80s-like than 70s (more straight than flared).

(Though, looking at that above image, it seems like Barnaby’s big belt is also very 70s-ish!).

Anyway, I feel I can’t talk about Keith and his appearance and style without also mentioning this:

Keith looks like Tom Cruise, and once you see and know that, you cannot unsee it either, lmao.

Okay, okay, let’s wrap this up! I’m going to be including sources and references for the clothes images and that’s basically it. If you have anything else to add, please do, and thank you to anyone who has read all the way to the end! It’s greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoyed reading this! <3

Sources:

Antonio’s: blue17 and Vintage Dancer

Kotetsu’s: Vintage-Retro

Lara’s: qph.cf2.quoracdn . net

Pao-lin’s: Plaidstallions

Nathan’s: Esquire

Ryan’s: Vintage Vixen and Bored Panda, Dress That Man and The Empire Tribe

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kithj · 11 months

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i thought it would be fun to share what i’m reading for pride :-)

pageboy by elliot page

i have been a lifelong fan of elliot page, one of my first celebrity crushes (alongside anna paquin in xmen) & if you’ve ever watched any of his other work like gaycation or there’s something in the water, you know he is very articulate & deliberate with his words & that definitely translates into his writing as well. i’m about halfway through and really enjoying it, his writing is again very deliberate and snappy, and i like how he reflects on the history of where he grew up and interweaves it with his childhood & present day. one of my favorite passages so far is when he's reminiscing about playing pretend as a boy:

"Those were some of the best times of my life, traveling to another dimension where I was... me. And not just a boy but a man, a man who could fall in love and be loved back. Why do we lose that ability? To create a whole world? A bunk bed was a kingdom, I was a boy."

stone butch blues by leslie feinberg

i’ve read this collection many years ago as a teen/early 20s and it’s actually been really hard for me to reread. i got through the first 3 chapters and had to set it aside because it was really affecting me. maybe because i’m older… anyways, not sure if i’m going to finish this reread since i don’t really think i’m in the right headspace to handle it. however there’s a lot of Leslie Feinberg’s writing available online, i’ve shared some previously and you can find them here :-) sbb is also available for free on hir website, and i do still recommend it, just be aware of the content before you start reading.

honorable mentions follow because i haven't gotten the books in the mail yet 😭

miss major speaks by miss major griffin-gracy

this book just came out this past month, and i'm waiting for my copy to arrive. i'll just share the description here:

Miss Major Griffin-Gracy is a veteran of the infamous Stonewall Riots, a former sex worker, and a transgender elder and activist who has survived Bellevue psychiatric hospital, Attica Prison, the HIV/AIDS crisis and a world that white supremacy has built. She has shared tips with other sex workers in the nascent drag ball scene of the late 1960s, and helped found one of America’s first needle exchange clinics from the back of her van. Miss Major Speaks is both document of her brilliant life–told with intimacy, warmth and an undeniable levity-and a roadmap for the challenges black, brown, queer and trans youth will face on the path to liberation today.

you can donate to miss major's fundly here

the persistent desire: a femme-butch reader edited by joan nestle

i've read some of the essays in this anthology previously, but i have a really hard time reading the scanned pages on my laptop (hurts my head) so i bit the bullet and ordered my own copy from a used bookstore. it was suspiciously cheap compared to where i've seen it elsewhere, so fingers crossed it's the real deal. i'm excited because the shop noted that it had previous wear & potential writing in the margins from the previous owner and i look forward to seeing the thoughts of the person before me :-)

i really like reading older lesbian literature, though it makes me sad sometimes that a lot of the lesbian bar culture no longer exists. i wish i could go back and talk to some of the women and butches that lived through it.

hijab butch blues by lamya h

this is next on my to-read list, i think i might jump over to this one since i've set sbb aside for now. i'll just paste the description again:

When fourteen-year-old Lamya H realizes she has a crush on her teacher—her female teacher—she covers up her attraction, an attraction she can’t yet name, by playing up her roles as overachiever and class clown. Born in South Asia, she moved to the Middle East at a young age and has spent years feeling out of place, like her own desires and dreams don’t matter, and it’s easier to hide in plain sight.

To disappear. But one day in Quran class, she reads a passage about Maryam that changes everything: when Maryam learned that she was pregnant, she insisted no man had touched her. Could Maryam, uninterested in men, be . . . like Lamya?

i'm excited to read this one and get my own copy eventually. a lot of the butch literature i've read has been from white butches (primarily leslie feinberg & ivan coyote) & i look forward to reading a new perspective. kitty tsui is also another butch whose work i really like, she has an essay in the persistent desire and i know that one has made the rounds on tumblr before.

anyways just felt like sharing ! i haven't been able to do anything for pride this year so i'm trying to fill the void a bit with reading a lot of gay/lesbian literature. hope you all are having a safe and happy pride :-)

#personal

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late-to-the-party-81 · 6 months

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He who Lovescraft loves loudest

AN: Here is my contribution to Stucky Halloween. I don’t really do true scary things, so I went a bit of a different route.

Big thanks go to @greekgeek24 for organising the event and making not only the cover for this fic, and for all the fics that are being entered, but also for the custom bonus image she made for me to share with you guys - you'll find it at the end.

Another big thanks goes to @zenaidamacrouras1 for beta-ing and giggling along to this silly story.

This story also fills Square O2 of my @stuckybingo card - Eldritch Horror as well as the October challenge prompt - Haunted House, and Square B3 on my @steverogersbingo card - Himbo Steve.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary: There’s some scary goings-on around campus. Several students have ended up in hospital, traumatised by something they’ve seen. Bucky, Steve, Sam, Nat and Alpine decide to investigate. Will they discover what’s going on and more importantly, will Bucky get lucky with Steve?

Relationships: Cap Quartet friendship, Steve x Bucky, FWB Nat x Sam.

Word Count: 6k

CW: College AU (all are late teens/early 20’s), kissing, groping, suggestive language, Bucky is constantly horny, Steve is a bit of a himbo, Nat has Sam right where she wants him, Scooby-doo inspired, crack treated seriously, cartoon style slapstick, Alpine is obviously the heroine, recreational drug usage (it goes without saying that in real life you should not have your cat inside your hotbox....)

It was quiet and peaceful in the library until Sam and Nat burst in. Steve had said he wanted to study, but Bucky had managed to convince him, as easily as usual, that making out would also be a good use of their time.

Bucky was straddling his boyfriend's sinfully muscular thighs, arms wrapped around his neck, enjoying the feel of Steve’s lips against his own. Enjoying the way Steve’s tongue was snaking its way into his mouth. Enjoying the way both of their partially chubbed up cocks were pressed against each other through their layers of clothes.

It was in the back of his mind that it would probably be relatively easy to convince Steve to abandon the library altogether for the soft bench seats in the back of his van and a lot less clothing. However, that’s when the other two appeared.

Nat, making a statement with her skin tight purple jeans and matching top, threw her bag down onto the table and slumped into the nearest uncomfortable wooden chair, all the while making gagging sounds. Bucky pulled away from Steve with a sigh, sliding back onto his own chair. Steve chased his lips for a few seconds before realising why Bucky was no longer kissing the shit outta him. He blushed and immediately turned back to his books, pointlessly trying to make it look as though that was what he’d been doing all along.

“I don’t even know why you two even bother coming to the library to study,” Sam teased, smoothing out his orange turtleneck. “One of these days Mrs. Parker is gonna catch you and throw you out. That’s if she doesn’t throw you out for smuggling your cat in.”

Bucky spun his chair around, planted his feet in Nat’s lap and tilted his head back to seeSam pointing at Bucky’s backpack. As if on queue, a small, white, furry head popped out of the open zipper.

“Mrow.” Bucky reached out his hand to scritch the top of her head and she started to purr.

“Nah. Mrs P loves Alpine. Who do you think gave my princess a taste for fresh cooked chicken? And she loves me too, especially after I helped her nephew study for his mechanics exam. Doc Octavious gave Peter an A. ”

“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Sam grumbled. “You never seem to study, but still manage to ace all your classes. Meanwhile the rest of us gotta work double time. Especially Goldilocks over there.” Sam jerked his thumb and Bucky twisted in his seat. Steve had gone back to his books, but he still had a cute flush covering his neck and cheeks and his hair was adorably mussed. Bucky smiled indulgently, taking in the sight of his boyfriend in his tight navy slacks and white cotton shirt, before turning back to Sam.

“It’s not my fault I’ve got more natural talent than any of you goobers.” Nat glared at him and shoved his booted feet from her knees. “What are you two here for anyway? I thought you were going to have your own ‘study session’.” He raised his hands in air quotes and Nat’s glare got more intense. Alpine ducked her head back into the bag.

“We’re here,” she ground out, “because there’s been another attack.” Bucky looked at Nat askance and her announcement even got Steve’s attention as his head snapped up too.

“Yikes! Who was it, and when?” Steve’s shyness at being caught making out melted away, replaced with his no-nonsense ‘mother-hen’ tone. Bucky decided he loved Steve all the more for it.

Sam moved around the table and sat down on Steve’s other side. “It was Clint and Laura. They were found late last night, wandering around near the campus coffee shop.” He pulled a fold out map from his jeans pocket and spread it across the table. Steve picked up one of his pencils and, tongue poking out between his lips, drew an X on it. It was the fourth such mark on the paper.

Bucky scooched his chair closer, pushed his shaggy, shoulder-length hair out of his face, and peered over Steve’s shoulder. Nat got up from her seat and stood behind all of them, resting her hand on Bucky’s back.

“They were crying and talking nonsense when Campus security found them. They’re up at the hospital. I was gonna go up there in a bit and see if I could get anything out of them.” Her tone was laced with anger and Bucky turned his head to look at the clenched fingers of her free hand. Outside of him, Sam and Steve, Clint was one of Nat’s closest friends and she also adored his long term girlfriend Laura, having announced early on that the pair were definitely ‘endgame’.

“I can’t believe that Dean Fury isn’t doing anything about this. This is the fifth attack in just over two weeks and he’s acting like it’s nothing but Spooky Season pranks that have gotten out of hand.”

Bucky wouldn’t put it past Nat to storm into Fury’s office and refuse to leave until he took it seriously. She might not be the tallest, but she was definitely scary when she wanted to be.

“I think I see a pattern,” Sam said, cautiously. His finger tapped down on the map. “Here are the first two attacks, then the third, fourth and finally, the one last night. They’re all within half a block of the old Borson house.”

Steve’s brows drew together. “But no-one has lived there for years. As I understand it, the realtors only just got hold of his daughter to get her to agree to sell.”

“It gives me the heeby-jeebies,” said Bucky. “But maybe we should check it out this evening?”

“Got any twos?” asked Sam.

“Go fish,” Nat responded before she held out her hand for the joint Bucky was passing her. Sam grumbled and drew a card from the deck.

It was smokey and dark in the back of Bucky’s van, but that wasn’t unusual. Nor was the fact that, once again, Bucky was sitting on Steve’s lap. Now he’d passed the joint on, he could return to kissing Steve.

Steve’s lips opened under his, so Bucky let go of his mouth full of smoke, shotgunning it to his boyfriend. Steve moaned back, his hands tightening on Bucky’s waist and rocking them together.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Buck. Must be the luckiest guy in school.”

“If we were alone you could be even luckier,” Bucky mumbled into the soft skin of Steve’s neck.

“But you’re not,” drawled Nat, “so clothes stay on and flies stay zipped. That means you, Barnes. We all know who the bad influence is around here.”

“Anyway,” added Sam, “aren’t you two supposed to be keeping a lookout? Can’t do that while your lips are attached together.”

Bucky turned his head and stuck his tongue out at Sam. “You’re such a square.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and took a long pull on the joint. “I think you need to reframe your definition, man. I’m sitting in the back of a beat up van, smoking a joint, keeping an eye out for an unknown monster terrorising our campus and getting beaten at ‘Go Fish!’ of all things. Also, I’m me. As far from square as they come.”

“Don’t get cocky, Wilson.” As she spoke, Nat stretched out her foot, placing it right into Sam’s crotch. Sam squeaked. Nat smiled.

“I still don’t quite understand what we’re even looking out for,” said Steve. “What did Laura say again?”

“Not a lot,” Nat replied as she stared down at her hand of cards, still rocking her foot back and forth. “She’s obviously traumatised from whatever it was that happened. Her parents said she wasn’t really talking at all, but when I got there she just grabbed hold of my shirt and pulled me really close. Then she just started muttering under her breath. The words ‘tentacles’ and ‘monster’. Then she let me go and went back to staring into space.” The others looked at her in horror, but Nat didn’t seem to notice. “Got any eights?”

Sam threw his cards down across the small table and the moment was broken. The slips of card slid across the melamine surface and Alpine, who had been lightly dozing upon it, opened her eyes and batted a few to the floor.

“Damn it, Romanoff. How the fuck do you do that?” Sam bent down with a huff to retrieve his cards, the joint wedged in the corner of his mouth.

“Observation, my dear Wilson. I can read you like a book.” As Sam sat back up, Nat plucked the joint from his lips and passed it back towards Steve and Bucky. She slipped around the table and slid onto the bench seat Sam was occupying, squishing him against the wall of the van. He grinned at her.

“And is that book the Karma Sutra?” He’d dropped his voice as low as it could go, pulling out all the stops.

“Depends how flexible you are, Sammy-boy.” Nat flicked the end of his nose and they both dissolved into giggles

Bucky, started to chuckle at their antics, when suddenly an ear-piercing scream from outside split the air.

“Jinkies!” Steve exclaimed and leapt to his feet, banging his head on the roof of the van and tumbling Bucky to the floor in the process. Both exclaimed in pain.

“Damn it, Stevie!”

“Sorry, Buck.” Steve rubbed at his head with one hand and with the other reached out to haul Bucky up from the floor. One strong jerk and Bucky was back on his feet. Bucky placed the joint in the ashtray and then rubbed at the ache in his ass. Sam and Nat were also on their feet and opening the sliding side door. Cool autumn air swirled into the space, flushing out the pungent fog they had all been cultivating.

Nat jumped down onto the asphalt, head tilted to the side as she waited to see whether any more noises would be forthcoming. She didn’t have to wait for long. A second scream met their ears and before any of the others could say anything she was off, sprinting towards whatever was happening. Sam and Steve looked at each other for a moment and then Sam sped away, hot on Nat’s heels.

“Nat! Wait!”

Bucky jumped down after him, but before he could follow suit he felt Steve’s large hands clamp down on his upper arms.

“Stay here, Bucky.”

“But Steve!” Bucky twisted in Steve’s hold to face him, confusion on his face.

“No, Bucky. I need to know you’re safe. Please. Stay here. You and Alpine. And we might need you to drive the van.” He dropped a kiss to Bucky’s forehead and then he was also running off into the streetlamp lit night.

Bucky watched him, mouth agape in stunned silence, before he stepped back and sat down on the edge of the open doorway.

“What the hell was that? Doesn’t he trust us, Al?” Bucky turned his head to look back into the van. Alpine was no longer sitting on the small table. “Al?” He stood up and then climbed into the van. “Alpine? Where are you, princess?” Bucky opened his backpack zipper wider, wondering whether his stalwart feline had decided to curl up in there for a snooze. No such luck.

Bucky planted his hands on his hips and let out a sigh. His girl was always trying to roam somewhere. He re-exited the van and strode over to bushes on the opposite side of the road.

“Alpine… Princess… Where are you sweetheart?” He ducked down but couldn’t see her. “Here, Alpine! Pss-pss-pss… I’ve got some chicken for you…” Bucky walked a little further down the sidewalk. She had to be around here somewhere. Just then, he caught movement in his peripheral vision; a dart of white disappearing between two fence planks.

“Ah-ha!” Bucky jogged off in pursuit. “You won’t get away from me.” He clambered over the short fence and followed the small blur of white into the shrubs. Branches snagged at his hair and his olive green t-shirt and he wished he’d worn a jacket now - it was a lot colder out here than he’d first thought and it would have protected his arms from getting scraped. The greenery thickened, forcing Bucky down onto his hands and knees. He shuffled forward and stuck his head and shoulders into a gap under one of the bushes. Alpine was sitting under it, swishing her tail angrily.

“There you are, Princess. Come on. Out you come. We need to get back to the van.” Carefully he reached out, but Alpine let out an uncharacteristic growl as he did. “Hey! What’s gotten into you?” She growled again, the hair on her back standing up on end. As Bucky looked at her in the gloom, he realised something. She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at something behind him.

Bucky felt a chill go through him, and realised that the ground around him was taking on a green glow. He looked at Alpine, her fur also taking on the eerie hue.

“I don’t suppose that’s Sam, trying to scare the jeepers out of me?”

Alpine continued to growl.

“Didn’t think so…”

Bucky took a deep breath and then backed up quickly, intending to surprise whoever it was behind him with his speed. However, the weed from earlier had made him a little light-headed and as he stood up and spun around, the world spun with him. Something strange - green and non-human looking - started to coalesce in front of his eyes. It opened its mouth and let out an inhuman noise as something else wrapped around his arms. Bucky stepped back in alarm and caught his heel on a tree root. As he lost his balance the creature lost its grip on his arms, but that meant there was nothing to stop Bucky as he pitched backwards. Pain flared from the back of his skull as it connected with the ground. The green, monstrous figure loomed over him, getting closer, but the world continued to spin, before it all went black.

Bucky was shaking.

No. He was being shaken.

“Bucky. Baby. Please. Wake up. I need you to wake up.”

Bucky groaned. His head hurt so much and Steve’s voice was so loud.

“For god’s sake, Steve. Let him breathe.” That was Nat. Bucky groaned again and tried to open his eyes.

“M’okay, Steve,” he croaked out. “What happened? Where am I?”

He sat up, clinging onto Steve and finally managed to open his eyes. He was in the back of his van. Hazy memories flooded back in.

“Alpine! Where is she?” Bucky whipped his head around looking for his beloved pet, but he just went dizzy again and had to cling to Steve harder.

“She’s here, man.” Sam knelt down beside him, a struggling bundle of white fluff in his arms. He opened them and Alpine jumped down onto Bucky’s lap, rubbing her head against his middle and purring. “We came back to the van after finding out that the screaming was Hope Van Dyne - Scott had jumped out on her to give her a scare. It apparently worked too well, although Scott is now sporting a black eye. But when we got back you weren’t here and the door was open. Steve was starting to have a nervous breakdown when Al came running out from the trees, meowing her head off.”

Bucky felt Steve slide to sit down behind him and pull Bucky’s slimmer frame against his broad chest. Bucky allowed himself to be pulled into the hug and Sam continued.

“As soon as Steve got close to her she turned tail and ran off again, but stopped every few yards and looked behind her. She was seeing if we were following. What on earth were you doing in the yard of the Borson house?”

Bucky inhaled deeply, letting the smell of Steve’s cheap, but familiar, cologne sooth him. “It was Alpine. She ran in there first and I followed. I didn’t realise it was the Borson yard. I was concentrating too much on getting my princess back.”

Nat sat down cross-legged next to him, eyes roving over his face as if she were a nurse checking for signs of concussion. Knowing Nat, that’s probably what she was actually doing. “We found you unconscious and Steve carried you back here. What happened?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall the details. “There was some kind weird person - creature - and it grabbed me, and made this horrible squealing sound. It was green. But I slipped and fell. Banged my head. I didn’t even see it that clearly.”

Sam let out a whistle. “Jeepers! I know you were baked, but what in the HP Lovecraft did you see?”

“I really don’t know, but I want to go home.”

Bucky was still nursing a headache the next day, which sucked for two reasons. Firstly, it was Halloween, and he, Steve, Nat and Sam were supposed to be going to a party tonight and currently he wasn’t feeling it. Secondly, it was making it harder than normal to pay attention in Professor Zemo’s History of Conflict in Europe class. He just wanted to go to sleep, preferably with his head resting on Steve’s stomach as his blonde boyfriend combed his fingers through his hair.

“Are you with us, Mr Barnes?” Sam jabbed him in the ribs and Bucky lifted his head to find that the Professor's accented voice was aimed solely at him. He realised he must have been staring off into space.

“Sorry, Professor. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” Bucky mumbled his apology into his chest. Professor Zemo sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mr Barnes, please don’t make your nocturnal habits anyone else’s problem except your own. You can waste your own time if you want, but you will not waste mine. If you can’t give my class the proper attention then please avail yourself of the door.”

Bucky squirmed in his seat from embarrassment, aware of the heat in his cheeks that was probably turning his face bright pink. “I… umm…”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Prof. It wasn’t his fault. He got attacked by the monster last night.” Sam’s voice cut across the awkward tension in the air and Bucky didn’t know whether to hug him or hit him. However, his announcement had the effect of distracting everyone in the lecture hall. Or rather now focusing them on Bucky for something other than being chewed out by Professor Zemo.

“You saw it?” Maria turned around in her seat in front of Bucky, eyes wide with intrigue. “What was it like?”

“And why aren’t you in the hospital like the others?” Carol, in the row behind leant forward.

“Well… I…” Bucky rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to formulate an answer that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot. Fortunately he was saved from answering by the Professor trying to get his classroom back in order.

“Settle down, everyone. There is no monster. It’s all just pranks by your immature peers, I’m sure. The only real damage is going to be to the property prices. Who’s going to want to live near such a rambunctious group? I sincerely hope that whoever is behind it stops soon. It’s bringing down the reputation of our centre of learning. But anyway, enough of this distraction. Are you staying or going, Mr Barnes?”

Still awash with embarrassment, Bucky mumbled “Staying, Sir,” under his breath, but it seemed to placate the Professor.

“Alright then. Where were we? Ah, yes… the Peninsular War…”

“Are you sure I look alright, Buck?” Steve’s voice was laced with trepidation, but Bucky was having difficulty concentrating. He knew that Steve’s costume was going to be a vampire one - he was a werewolf to go with him - but Bucky hadn’t quite realised how revealing Steve’s outfit was going to be…

The main part of it was a red singlet which made Steve look as though he was about to start wrestling. Bucky thought that he might enjoy wrestling with Steve. Under the singlet was a shirt. Sort of. It was sheer. It had a built in cravat at the net and had multiple folds of fabric around the wrists. However, it stopped just above Steve’s glorious tits. To finish it off, there was a short black cape with a red ‘pop-up’ collar. On his feet Steve wore his shiny black dress shoes, his black socks pulled part way up his calves. It was definitely ‘a look’.

Not that Bucky’s outfit was much more dignified - a furry hooded cape with ears that just about covered his nipples, some kind of cross between grey sweatpants and yoga pants with a fuzzy tail, and a pair of furry gloves with claws. He’d just put his battered combat boots on to walk around. And right now he was walking closer to Steve.

He pressed his chest up against his boyfriend’s, wrapping his arms around Steve’s slim waist. He smiled to himself as he saw Steve’s eyes flutter shut as the fur of Bucky’s cape rubbed over his exposed nipples.

“You look so good, Steve, it makes me want to howl. Ow-ow-woo!” Bucky threw his head back and leaned into the bit.

“Buck….” Steve hissed between his teeth, his neck turning a very un-vampire like shade of pink.

“What? The only other person here is your mom and she knows how I feel about you. She’s rolled her eyes at me enough. But I promise to behave myself while we’re out. Or at least I promise to try. And you can’t blame me, baby. You’re so god-damn sexy.”

Steve seemed to have got over Bucky’s over the top reaction and looped his own arms around Bucky’s neck. “Right back at you, Buck. I can’t promise not to bite your neck.” Bucky snorted at Steve’s silly vampire accent but leaned in for a kiss. It started innocently enough, but as was normal for the two of them, hormones raging, it wasn’t long until Bucky was lying on his back on Steve’s bed, being pinned down in a way he couldn’t complain about. However, before things could move from PG-13 to Rated R, they became aware that there was a knocking on the front door downstairs.

As they listened to the dulcet tones of Sarah Rogers letting the visitors in, the two reluctantly drew apart and willed their erections to go down. There was one thing when your boyfriend’s mom knew what you were getting up to, but for her to see the evidence of it was another thing altogether.

Costumes sufficiently smoothed out, the two descended the stairs to find Sarah chatting to Sam and Nat in the hallway. The three looked up. Sarah Rogers let a small smile play over her lips as she took in the costumes of her son and his best-friend-turned-boyfriend. Nat and Sam grinned.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Slutty monsters of the night?” Sam drawled.

“Can it, Mr ‘Nat and I aren’t wearing a couples costume’. You’re Batman and Catwoman for fuck’s sake.”

Nat rolled her eyes behind her mask. “Yeah, and Batman and Catwoman aren’t a couple.”

“They are friends with benefits though,” smirked Steve. “So I suppose it tracks. I don’t know why you two don’t make it official.”

“Why spoil a good thing, Rogers? Natty and I both know where we stand, don’t we, kitten?” Sam turned his head and flashed Nat his signature gap-toothed smile. Nat extended a gloved hand toward him, fingers curled like claws.

“Me-ow! Now, let’s get going, boys! Halloween parties wait for no creatures.”

The four of them all hugged Sarah Rogers goodbye, and Bucky carefully picked up his backpack from her sofa, a sleeping Alpine still inside. Sarah had said that he could leave the cat with her, but Bucky had decided to bring his faithful feline with him and let her chill out in the van while the party was in full swing at Scott’s house.

He pulled himself up into the driver's seat, placing his backpack down next to him and tucking his tail to the side. Steve slid in on the other side and reached across to squeeze his thigh. Sam opened the side door and helped Nat hop up, even though she was capable of getting in on her own. When the door slammed shut again, Bucky turned the ignition and they were off.

Steve fiddled with the radio, turning on a local station playing a medley of Halloween hits. Thriller was currently playing. Bucky hummed along while he drove, drumming on the steering wheel while Sam sang along, slightly off pitch, in the back.

It was one of those ‘blink and you’d miss it’ moments. One moment they were driving along a fairly empty street, towards campus, the next the headlamps lit up a strange green form in front of them. Bucky slammed on the brakes. Steve reacted quickly, grabbing Bucky’s backpack and stopping it, and Alpine, sliding off onto the floor. In the back, Sam and Nat let out cries of displeasure as they were shaken about.

“What the hell, Barnes!”

Bucky twisted in his seat to meet Sam’s outraged gaze.

“Did you see that? Did you see it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He put the car back in drive and pulled over to the side of the road and leapt out. He was looking around frantically as the others climbed out of the van. Steve reached into the backpack and placed Alpine on the ground and she wound around Bucky’s legs, sensing his discomfort. Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I saw something green, Buck. But I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Bucky spun to face him. “It was him, Steve. The monster.”

Sam and Nat came to stand next to them.

“Are you sure, Bucky?” There was a gentle questioning note in Nat’s voice.

“Absolutely, Nat. I’m certain.”

“Well,” said Sam, rolling his shoulders and puffing out his bat symbol covered chest, “He can’t have gone far.”

Down on the ground Alpine started to paw at Bucky’s leg. “Mwerp.”

They all looked down at her. She cocked her head, turned around and trotted off.

“She’s doing it again,” said Nat. “She wants us to follow her.”

The four of them scrambled, Bucky only just remembering to lock the van, and they all jogged off after Alpine. She ducked down and squeezed under a gap in a fence and her faithful humans skidded to a stop.

“It’s the old Borson house again,” stated Steve. “Something very fishy is going on. Let’s go.” He started to climb over the fence, but stopped part way when he realised the others were looking at him. “What?”

“Seriously, man?” Sam raised an eyebrow. There was a heartbeat of silence, and then Sam shook his head in resignation. “Okay. Let’s go.” He followed Steve over the fence and held his hand out to Nat. She gave him a look and practically vaulted over, landing crouched, one hand on the floor between her bent knees. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Such a poser.”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t do it,” Nat retorted.

Bucky snorted, but clambered over the wooden panel in a more sedate manner. He didn’t trust himself not to fall flat on his face. Nat smirked at him.

With them now all standing in the yard, the very place that Bucky had been the night before, Alpine trotted back over, chirped at them and swished her tail.

“Okay,” said Steve, back in full-blown ‘large and in charge’ mode, which made Bucky’s heart pound loudly in his chest. “Let’s split up. Sam, Nat. You check the yard. Me, Buck and Alpine will go inside. Whoever finishes first joins up with the others. Let’s put an end to whatever this is.” They all nodded their agreement and Sam and Nat snuck off into the trees, black costumes helping them blend right into the shadows.

Bucky turned to Steve and took his hand with a smile. “Do you think you’ll need an invitation to step over the threshold?”

“Ha ha, Buck. Come on.”

The front steps creaked ominously as they walked up them. Bucky clung to Steve’s back, now starting to feel a little creeped out.The only thing stopping him from going into full blown panic was wondering how Steve could be so calm and collected while his nipples were exposed and currently pointy enough to cut glass. “What do you think we’ll find in there, Steve?” Bucky asked. “A monster?”

“Pphht. It can’t be that scary.” Steve pushed open the front door, and they walked into the gloomy interior.

Something brushed up against Bucky’s leg and he let out a shriek that he quickly muffled with his hands. Looking down he saw Alpine’s reflective eyes looking back at him. Letting out a sigh of relief, Bucky bent down and picked her up. She wiggled out of his arms and settled on his fur-cape covered shoulder.

“You wanna be close too, princess? I don’t blame you.”

He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, sweeping it back and forth across the floor and walls. The house was still furnished, with thick layers of dust covering every flat surface. When old man Borson had died neither his daughter or two sons had really wanted anything to do with him or his things. It was sad, really.

Suddenly a noise ripped through the air, something akin to a hiss crossed with a scream. The two young men came to a halt.

“What on earth?” Bucky felt Steve’s voice rumble in his chest as he buried his head into Steve’s back.

“I don’t like this, Steve.” He remembered the fear and disorientation that he’d felt last night and tried to repress a full body shudder.

The noise sounded again and they turned their heads towards the stairwell. The sound was coming from above them. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, a green glow could clearly be seen. Bucky gulped.

“We’re gonna go up there, aren’t we?”

“We gotta, Buck. We gotta do this for Clint and Laura, and the others who were hurt before them.”

Bucky nodded against Steve’s back. He could do this.

Slowly they walked towards the stairs, making their way up, one step at a time. The unnatural glowing got more intense and while there were no more screams, the ominous hissing got louder and louder. They crept, one foot after the other, closer and closer towards the partially open door at the end of the corridor, Bucky’s fingers curled around Steve’s red, spandex singlet. Steve stopped, one hand raised a hair’s-breadth from the old, scarred wood and looked at Bucky. His eyes looked strange under the eerie glow, but he looked so sure, so brave that Bucky knew he’d follow Steve anywhere, even if he did currently look like a cross between Bela Lugosi and Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart. Bucky gave him a small nod, and Steve pushed the door.

The creature stood there, illuminated by its sickly green glow. Its face had two dark eyes, but where its mouth was, it seemed as though it had half-swallowed some kind of squid. Tentacles curled down around its chin, glistening with slime. It had two long arms, ending with three fingers and claws, which it raised menacingly at the two young men.

Bucky and Steve lept in the air as it screamed, that ear-piercing sound combined with a hiss. They screamed in return, filled with terror and Alpine leapt down from Bucky’s shoulder, hair on end, hissing and spitting. They all turned tail and ran. Alpine was in front, her four legs carrying her faster and far more elegantly than either Steve or Bucky. Next was Steve, barrelling forward, clasping Bucky’s smaller hand in his, practically dragging him along behind. Bucky stumbled, bringing up the rear. He kept turning his head, shrieking incoherently as he realised the monster was right behind them.

They thundered down the stairs, across the entrance hallway and out of the front door, Steve almost ripping it from the hinges as he pulled it open.

“Nat! Sam!” Steve shouted out for their friends as he dragged Bucky across the lawn.

“Here!” They heard Nat shout and turned to see her standing by the trees at the bottom of the yard - the place where they’d found Bucky yesterday. She waved them towards her. “This way!”

They turned toward her and carried on running. “He’s still coming,” Bucky wailed. What he wouldn’t give to be an actual werewolf right now. He could rip out its throat or something. They stumbled into the shrubbery, Nat having melted back into the darkness. Why did she want them to go this way? Surely it would have just been better to escape by running out the front gate and heading back to the van?

They ran between two trees, and as they did so, they heard Sam shout out.

“Now!”

Instinctually, Bucky and Steve came to a halt and turned around. The monster was bearing down on them, getting closer, when suddenly it tripped on something and crashed to the ground. Immediately, Nat launched herself from the shadows and landed on the creature’s back. She jerked his arms up and cuffed them together. At the same time Alpine leapt down from a tree, landing on the creature's head. She dug her claws into its skull and it let out an all too human type of noise.

“What the heck?” Bucky was dumbfounded. What just happened? Where had Nat found handcuffs? Why wasn’t she scared? She stood up, brushing loose dirt from her pleather outfit and sauntered over to Bucky.

“We used a tripwire from Sam’s utility belt. The handcuffs are also part of Sam’s costume and I wasn’t scared because of what he and I found in the shed before you two wusses came shooting out of the house.” She patted Bucky’s cheek and he wondered if she’d read his mind or whether he’d actually spoken out loud.

Steve, choosing to ignore Nat’s teasing comment, looked down at the struggling creature in the dirt. “What did you find?”

Sam placed a booted foot in the small of the creature’s back, pinning it to the floor and trained his phone flashlight on it. “We found costume making supplies. And glow sticks. Lots and lots of green glow sticks.”

“Plus instructions on how to make a small speaker. Cos-play stuff really,” Nat chimed in, adding her flashlight to the mix.

“But that means…” Bucky’s jaw dropped and he strode over to their struggling captive, dropping into a crouch. “This isn’t a monster at all. It’s someone dressed up and trying to scare everyone. Just like the Dean and Professor Zemo said. But who?”

Sam helped him to manhandle the creature into a sitting position, and now he was up close, seeing it lit up and having his hands on it, Bucky could clearly see the rubber and foam, the stitch marks and the little channels that had been made in the outside to house the multitude of glowsticks. Alpine came and sat down next to him, licking at a paw nonchalantly.

“Right - let’s see who you are.” Bucky grabbed hold of the monster’s head, soft and squishy rubber under his hand, and pulled to reveal…

“Professor Zemo!” The four of them exclaimed in shock.

The professor’s dark hair was plastered over his forehead, and in the torchlight his brown eyes gleamed with frustration.

“Yes, it’s me.” His lip turned up in a snarl and if he weren’t handcuffed, Bucky would have been reluctant to be this close to him.

“But why? What on earth do you get from scaring college students?”

“While I did enjoy a little of the karma from scaring some of your peers witless, it was more that I needed the house prices to come down. I wanted to buy the Borson house, but do you know how little a college professor makes? It was starting to work, too. The price had already been slashed once. I’d have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for you pesky kids.”

They all looked at him, dumbfounded, until Steve spoke up.

“Respectfully, Sir, that is really fucked up. Buck, sweetheart, can you call the police?”

“You kiss your momma with that mouth, Stevie?” Bucky sniggered, taken aback by Steve’s uncharacteristic swearing.

“No, but I’ll kiss my boyfriend with it.”

And he did. Just a vampire kissing his werewolf boyfriend in a dark, haunted stand of trees.

Sam made gagging sounds.

Nat called the cops.

Alpine purred.

The end.

Bonus: - They finally get to the party and have a fabulous time.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @km-ffluv

#stuckyhalloween2023 #stucky fanfic #stucky fanart #steve rogers x bucky barnes #crack fic #college au #cap quartet #steve x bucky #alpine the cat

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warsamongthestars · 2 days

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BAD BATCH (CHARACTERS) + ECHO HEADCANONS-- WITH STORIED BITS!

Because I was inspired by tags, why not a round of BB HCs?

Not TBB, just BBs. The characters, and I'm coming out the Clone Wars primarily, with only bits taken from TBB. ( Like a good fanfic, Let's steal back the small good things )

I know, I analyze--so let's see how far I can stretch it, yeah?

Today we are HCing...

99 AND THE 99 PROJECT

THE BAD BATCH'S MUTATIONS (Thus their abilities)

DOMINO SQUAD

( I would label it as Mature (Because I have a general idea of labelling), but Tumblr decided to be fucking hilarious about it--so I'm going ask you to be Mature. There's nothing explicit here, its about as snarky as a Discworld novel. So Guess that means its Teens and Up, PG-13, or whatever. )

99 INSPIRED THE 99's PROJECT

"Old man 99!? THE JANITOR FROM KAMINO!?"

Whether 99 was an alphagen or a first-gen, the idea here is based on small TCWs comments. Stuff about "Growth" tubes.

Its probably in the capitalist-eugenics aliens' (kaminonians) interest to skip the uncomfortable bits in natural human growth. After all the uncomfortable bits of human growth aren't Profitable.

So, have an age to load a clone into a growth tube, and just, rapidly grow them until they're the stage you want (to be profitable). This means skipping teenage years. It means skipping the small childhood years.

So, given that 99 is mature and capable, he was likely loaded into a growth tube about where his "teen years" would start... and it went horribly wrong. Aging him by decades instead of a few years.

And the 99 project, would be Nala Se's little project, to find out why it went so wrong--and then to fix it for future clones. Because after all, you can't have an army of old men.

And judging by the fact that 99 is the only Old Man Clone we've seen in TCWs, I imagine the project worked as intended--and like any greedy eugenic science-capitalist, Nala Se decided:

"Y'know, I could do something more with this. I could find the most common 'bugs' in our clone genome, and I could stretch them, and modify them, and make benefits out of these flaws."

And the 99s were created

ADDENDUM - on Growth Tubes

Growth Tubes would only be successful if the human brain was stimulated rapidly as the body grew, or you risk compromising the human brain. Its a very delicate organ and rapid growth would be very bad. So flash-training, basically rapidly dumping organized information and sensory input, would occur over the course of the rapid-growth. This is to ensure you have a nice healthy human brain afterwards. There are clones who did end up with a "leaky growth tube" (rumors about Hardcase), where the only issue hat ended up happening is a deficit in attention spans and impulsiveness.

What's significant about First-Gen clones, is that they mostly went the old fashioned way of growing--as in slow (but accelerated) growing. After First-Gen, Kaminonians decided: "No, this is not fast enough... and its too stressful, Teenage clones complaining about growing pains and having attitudes--its just too much. What do they think this is, a Human Domicile?"

Fast-Tracked clones are those who ended up in a growth tube the majority of their time, and even then, skipped steps once they were out. Domino Squad, being fast-tracked, maintained the "attitude" flaws characteristic of those who didn't spend a whole lotta time working with brothers out of the tube.

This is also why all "standard" clones look older than their early twenties. Many were grown out, biologically hitting the fast-forward on growing years to be fully grown. Chronologically, they are official "10". They only have 10 years of life, by the start of the war. Accelerated Aging measurement? 20. Because they are made to age twice as fast a normal humans. Biologically? Mid-20 to early 30s. It helps the resemblance to their prime, and avoids any possibilities of "late growth spurts". Luckily, clones are made to stay in their prime far longer than a normal human.

2. THE MUTATIONS OF THE BAD BATCH "They're non-standard but with abilities not seen in even normal humans."

The problem with finding a 'flaw' in a genome is that you have to ask...

a). Who is saying there is a Flaw? Are they someone you want saying that there is a flaw?

b). Why is it a flaw? ... But is it really?

c). what are they going to do to "remedy" the "flaw"? Is it an actual remedy, or are they just saying it is.

And being capitalist-eugenic scientists, who study the science of profiting from genes and geneing from profits, certain "flaws" are going to be the non-profitable kind.

They probably think its a terrible terrible sin, that the human genome is not naturally made to make capital.

But through this list of Flaws, Nala Se decided--"we can gene splice can't we? Yes, why shouldn't I gene splice. I can make much better clones through splicing."

After all, if you're going to make money from genes, in order to do more geneing, adding more Genes should surely add more Money.

FOR WRECKER...

(Shift from "canon"--for thematic reasons, this Wrecker is 9901)

Kaminonians are baffled by how strong and yet delicate humans are. They can lift 300 pounds, and yet can still get crushed to death by 300 pounds.

Its ridiculous, really.

So Nala Se took notes and samples from the beauty and gracefulness that is the Rancor.

And for her designated 9901, gave him near instantaneously recovering muscle, that could lift 3x the normal 300 pounds of health humans, and indestructible bones.

Why if an explosion were to hit 9901's face head on fro the left side--it would not, in fact, pulverize his skull or any the soft tissues the skull protects. The eye would absolutely be kriffed though.

Sure, the increased metabolism might be a bit too grand for the rations...

But the Kaminonians were assured--they are specially crafted rations, and the clone will just have to adapt. Humans can just, not be hungry after all, why it takes a month for an average human to starve! If the clone complains, well he is getting fed so he wont' starve. It's a bargain, after all. He's lucky the Kaminonians are even bothering.

FOR HUNTER...

( Shift from "canon"--for thematic reasons, Hunter is now 9903 )

The various pores of the human face always seemed to... leak to the Kaminoinans. Why do humans have to do so much leaking? Ought to make all those "face pores" that do their "poring", do actual useful work for once.

So for 9903, he got an ampullae. Plenty of the predators on the planet of Kamino had ampullae, and they seem to get along just fine.

Because of the odd small organ network that encompassed his face and down his neck, connecting various natural human senses such as scent, taste, sight, and hearing, 9903 proved to be passively sensitive towards electromagnetic fields. He would always know where North is on a planet. He would always know where he was at, and what was around him.

Why, the Kaminonians though, that would be PERFECT for droids! Droids have electric-magnetic fields!

... The unfortunate fact, that the Kamionians neglected to add, is that Everything produced an electromagnetic field, and super imposing upon natural humans senses of "being sensitive to particles" and "being naturally sensitive to atomic wavelengths"...

is that it would be a sensory nightmare. A cacophony of hell from the very world around him, to consume him utterly.

Well... The clone will just have to adapt, as the Kaminonains say. By the very coral reefs of Kamino, the clones are just not grateful for the work we do over their petty little lives.

FOR CROSSHAIR...

( For thematic purposes--we're keeping 9904 )

Humans have such tiny eyes, the Kaminonians think, how do they see so much if they're so tiny? and sensitive. By the whale song of the sea, Human eyes are just Too Sensitive.

So for 9904, they gave him super sight. But not just super sight, but super duper protected sight. They decided that the vestigial "third eyelid" had no business being vestigial anymore, the lazy little thing, and regave it life in 9904's eyes.

Why it could protect from Water, and Dust, and Bright Lights.

And they, the Kaminonians, were really reeving up now. Why just stop there? Give him reflectors. Let him see in the dark!

Why didn't we think to do this for all the clones?

Because sudden lights and sudden darkness, would mess up his eyes immediately. Because long term lights would cause a sensory overload. And long term darkness would cause (temporary) color blindness.

And no amount of protection stops a blaster to the face.

Well, thinks the Kaminonains, Its not as bad as the last ones.

FOR TECH...

( For thematic purposes... he is 9906. Yes, I like "Baby Tech", shush you. )

We know exactly what to do with this one, thinks the Kaminonians. Humans are just so... Dull. We load their brains nice and healthy, and they're still so dull.

We want at least one to have an intelligent conversation with.

I KNOW, LET'S MODEL THIS ONE AFTER US--THE KAMINONIANS! And we're geniuses you know, why shouldn't at least... one clone, be a genius like us.

For 9906, they attempted the daunting task of Modifying the Brain. Increasing memory retention and synapses flexibility. Awareness and understanding--a living computational organ.

And 9906 was Perfect.

... Save that he did not like Kaminonians, because healthy human brains, by any standard, tend to develop things like "Understanding" and "Feelings for and about other People", and tend to greatly dislike those who want to treat other people monstrously.

Why, 9906 even argued against the treatment of Clones. Clones are capable of thought and creation, they are a people and thus their own culture.

And the Kaminonians mourned. Clearly, all the work they put into this brain was for Nothing!

It only wants to learn about the galaxy and discover the beauties and wonders behind technology and space and peoples--why, it doesn't think of Profit or Genes at all!

It even argued that it wasn't a Product to be Sold, but a person to be talked to. The Kaminonians found this scoffful.

It would learn, the Kaminonians decided, oh it would learn.

ADDENDUM

What about 9902 and 9905? Well... Heheheh.

DOMINO SQUAD "A real domino effect, this one."

There are birth batches, and there are batch-squads. Birth-batches separate to all become batch-squads... but not all batch-squads are from the same birth-batch.

Such is the case of the fast-tracked "Domino Squad". Because they were fast-tracked, these clones spent an unpresidented time in the growth-tube. And worse, each one had a falling out with their original batch-squad.

The one that would be known as "Hevy" was overly confrontational, and prone to starting fights. He failed out of his original batch-squad for his attitude and physical violence.

He mellowed out, once he found that his aggression lead to serious consequence, but it didn't completely stop the fights or the lone wolfing. (Until after graduation).

The one that would be known as "Cutup" never took anything seriously, and his old trainers (and old squad) had enough. The trooper didn't even take regulations seriously, and was caught with contraband (Cutup couldn't believe that simple playing cards were "contraband", haven't they ever heard of a game before?)

The one that would be known as "Droidbait", tended to give up too easily, in a total reverse to "Hevy's" situation. Surrender is not acceptable, and he'll have to relearn the hard way.

The one that would be known as "Fives", ironically, did not have a poor record following him for anything he did. Half of his birth-batch-squad were found deceased after a training exercise. The survivors were sent elsewhere. For this, Fives was a quiet, serious but very anxious cadet and rookie until he hit arc-trooper. He kept even his name close. Just in case. Fives got to watch one of the survivors graduate with Bravo Squad. He never found out what happened to him after that.. but he doesn't assume its good.

Always have to adapt on the fly, because if you don't, the situation might just kill you. No matter how "Safe" everyone says it is. In fact, especially if its "Safe".

The one that would be known as "Echo" was the most devious.

By all accounts, Echo was a stand up trooper--he read the regulations and followed them to the letter. He took pleasure in buffing his armor and uniform. He could recite exact rules, was perfect in inspections. He knew exactly where everything is and how to act as expected. A true "By the Book" trooper. Why, what could ever be wrong with Echo?

Because if you look like you belong, and if you know the rules, you can do Anything. And Echo, he knew that people knew that the Way Things Act were often considered more important than What Things Actually Are, but you still have to Play Expectations if you want to get what you want.

And Echo, he tended to learn how play expectations. The fact is, while it was considered an accident and misunderstanding--Echo put himself in a position to get transferred away from his old birth-squad.

( He had nothing against his old birth-batch. They were fine lads. But Echo refused to be canon-fodder. If he was going to go out into the galaxy and make a difference, he was going to do it his way--if he was going to get blown up, it was because he damn well decided he was going to get blown up, not because a general told him to. )

Yes it would mean being held back. But such is the price of prep work (He certainly didn't feel like he was ready--and he wanted to test the waters a bit longer), and well, there had to be brothers on Kamino, who actually think about what they're being told--not just blinding follow without consideration.

And you can only work the rules to your liking, if you know what the rules are. Good thing Echo likes to read.

ADDENDUM

Reason Birth-batch and Batch-Squad are separate, is because the general idea is that they birth clones enmass, but since we only ever see cadets in squads, they aren't necessarily trained enmass.

There had to be a reason why Echo had the Balls to jump Rank and talk to a General, as a cadet, as request transfer.

None of the numbers of Domino Squad match up to indicate that they're apart of the "Birth-Batch". So this sugested to me that they might be from different batches--and thusly, are probably a "throw them together" squad.

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sege-h · 6 months

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Ashen "Sharp" the Wolf

Another @sonic-oc-showdown bracket means it's time for a new pinned where I ramble about my OC!

I do have a "Sharp" tag on my blog so check that out if you want, but here's where I'll be answering some questions about him in case you don't wanna dig through tagged shitposts and art with little context!

(Second pic is an edit of the Sonic issue #50 cover)

Bellow the cut I will be answering a bunch of OC questions, so it could get rather long!

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Which one? 😂 He actually has 3 names--

Delan- his birth name. Nowadays only his romantic partner knows that name. That one popped into my brain so there's no special story behind it.

Ashen- The name he gave himself. I tried to think up a name an angry teen might come up with since that was where he was at when he gave himself the name. One idea for a name like that was 'Fenix'- a play on how he would've wanted the name for a creature that rises from the ashes, but with the wrong spelling since he didn't know how to spell 'Phoenix' properly. But that didn't quite fit in my mind, so he got named after the ashes a phoenix might rise from.

Sharp- originally it was his temporary name since I needed to call him SOMETHING while coming up with a name. But then I grew attached to it and kept it. In-universe it's his nickname because the resistance-not knowing his name- found it easier to refer to him by a nickname to warn people that he's coming rather than 'HEY THAT GUY WITH THE SHARP METAL CLAWS IS COMING'. It saves time SHGDHS

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

It depends on which part of the story things take place (I have a few aus where things diverged at specific points in his life)

While he was still a runaway living outside he was 11-15

While still working with Eggman he was 16-18

And after he ran from there, or 'present' time he's 18-20 depending on how early or late in the story it is

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

Yes! Percy- who belongs to @hesfromsomewhere

Sharp and him went from enemies (one sided on Sharp's end) to secretly hanging out since Percy works for the resistance. Up until Percy got captured by Eggman, and Sharp chose to rescue him and run away to take him to the resistance. Initially Sharp was just going to leave him with them, but then he got captured by them a day or two later. Percy then very slowly built a bridge of trust between Sharp and the resistance faction he was a part of- though even if that hadn't happened they were determined to stay by each other's side. Things eventually developed into romance after that.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

Pie! Any kind of pie, really. Sharp loves homemade foods in general. But there's just something about baked goods, and especially pie, that strikes him as The homemade meal that he always wanted to try, and then eventually got to

💼 - What do they do for a living?

His initial job really Was for a living, working under Eggman. He really took that up because it'd provide him with a roof over his head and steady meals. To him the bonus was that Eggman is the type of person that wouldn't pretend like he Isn't disposable. There would be no attempts at fake friendships there.

Nowadays he works with the restoration, trying his best to get used to being around people and helping out. Down the line the faction he's in will split off from the restoration, and become more like a group of mercenaries akin to the original Diamond Cutters

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

He likes playing video games! Initially they served as something to get his frustrations out on. The still kinda serve that purpose, but he also plays them when he's relaxed, and he's learning to play more games with friends.

🎯 -What do they do best?

If he was asked he'd answer that he's the best at fighting. It's what he's had to do most of his life, and he's kind of out of his element once he joins the resistance where he doesn't really have to do that as much anymore. Especially since even when he Does fight he'll get asked to retreat all because the people there care whether he lives or dies.

He's pretty hard on himself in other aspects. He's pretty good at cooking, but he does best when doing so over an open fire. So he views his learning attempts at using a stove as failures.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Loves: Playing video games, spending time with loved ones, eating good homemade food, walks in the rain, seeing peoples faces whenever he proves he's more than they think of him. Also dancing but don't tell anyone.

Hates: Being around too many people, getting ordered around, backing down or retreating in general, having to confront people taller than him, being Perceived

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

The night he realized that despite everything, someone did come for him and took him in. Just not the way he expected.

Him and Percy weren't romantically involved yet, but they slept in the same bed anyway. It'd become a habit after Percy's stay in the infirmary. And after they got to go off in their separate rooms, Sharp found he was too anxious to sleep on his own after everything, in a place full of people he didn't know and that he believed hated him (and to be fair, some did)

He woke up one night with Percy clinging to him. And it kind of hit him that he finally had someone that cared about what happened to him. And someone that felt like home. Both things he'd pretty much given up on ever having at that point in his life, but he'd gotten them anyway.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Ashen has a Lot of bad memories but the one that really haunts him nowadays is when Eggman captured Percy. He was locked up in a pod, intended to be used as a living battery since he's a being made of Chaos Energy. Sharp waited to see if anyone from the resistance would show up to save him (he still views this as a big mistake on his part)

But once the machine was activated, the decision to make a move and defy Eggman was pretty much made for him. He still has nightmares about hearing Percy scream and watching his form start to shift thanks to the energy getting sapped from him.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Kind of!

His design has stayed relatively the same, it just got more refined. I got the hang of drawing his hair, and his ears are a darker color now instead of being the same as his main fur color. He's also gotten beefier. He also lost the cheek markings bellow the eye pretty fast, I think I got rid of them after the first 2 drawings of him.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Honestly I just wanted to go back to my roots and make a wolf character. Other than that, me and my friend wanted to make some OCs that worked on opposing sides during Forces thatd end up being together by the end.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

I said this last time too but I don't really slot my OCs into genres SHDGSH. I guess just. Sonic? Adventure with a side of shonen? Sharp kinda fits the shonen anime vibe, with his strongest asset being his willpower, making him get up every time he gets knocked down.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

He's a cis man, and he's probably demisexual/demiromantic, though he labels himself as gay. He just doesn't have/know the words for demi, but he knows what gay is, and he's always fallen for boys and masc presenting people. Though the few times Percy goes for a more femme presenting form, he's noted there's no lack of attraction there. But it hasn't really spurred him on to investigate if there's any other label he could apply to himself. He just thinks 'I'm in love with Percy. And no matter what for he takes he's still Percy, and that's who I'm in love with'

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

He never had any biological siblings! But later on him and Riley (also belonging to @hesfromsomewhere) adopt each other as brothers

He's a chinchilla that's also part of the resistance. And he was a runaway, so he very much understands what Sharp has gone through in life.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Absolutely horrid. They're dead to him, even if he's unsure if they're actually dead. He sure hopes they are.

They're why he's mostly thrown away his birth name. They gave it to him. He doesn't belong to them, and he saw taking up a new name as a show that he only belongs to himself.

They really only had him to insure they had a heir that'd take up their business one day. They were very strict, and were pretty much never pleased with Ashen. Everything he did had to be flawless- and that's impossible. They're a big reason for him running away from home.

Once he joined Eggman and was allowed to unleash legions of badniks to attack as he pleased, one of the first things he did was lead a raid to his old hometown. He saw to it that the house he grew up in was burned to ashes. He never caught sight of his parents so he doesn't know what actually became of them, but he doesn't care.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

I like how silly he can get. His short temper can be both a source of drama, but also of silly moments. Because sometimes he gets so caught off guard that he doesn't know how to react other than with frustration.

And I just like his type of character. Someone kind of jaded that has to deal with wanting to become a better person, and the softness that comes out of those efforts.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Very often! He's on my mind a lot, and I have several AUs with him. He's one of the characters I draw and write about the most other than Storm and Atos

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

Nnno I get too sad at things like that HSGDHS

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Despite his love of rain, he gets really stressed out and scared when it comes to really bad storms, with loud thunder and especially with strong winds. The winds stress him out more than the thunder and he hates the sound of it. His fear was more evident when he was younger. He's gotten good at hiding it, but someone that knows him well can notice the way he's tensed up while a storm like that is happening.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

His (one sided) arch-nemesis/rival WAS Percy, until they became friends.

An antagonist that pops up here and there in their story is Echo (owned by @hesfromsomewhere )

He's a tasmanian devil, and a hacker that lost everything to the war with the Eggman Empire. Once he finds out Sharp works for it, he attempts to kill him. Their paths cross again later, and even though Sharp no longer works for Eggman, that doesn't matter to Echo.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

I think I've had him since 2019, if not late 2018!

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

25!

Thank you for reading!

#OC Tournament #Sharp

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