#hetero-ish

[the-masquerade-council]

Conformant-ish

A term for for when someone's close to but not quite conformant. This is an umbrella term and one does not have to be conformant-ish in all way to use it, for example a trans person who is hetero-ish could use the term.

Please note these are meant to be self description terms, and should not be used on people who do not self identify with them. And nobody has to use these term, even if they exactly match an example used on the post.

I may make a set of sister flags to this, maybe, maybe not.

(sub terms underneath. color/design meanings here.)

Hetero-ish / Straight-ish(terms and flags can be used interchangeably)

A term for for when someone's close to but not quite hetero(sexual,romantic,ect)/straight. This can be for a variety of reasons, including being heteroflexible, have a gender that doesn't have an "opposite", have a fluid orientation and/or gender but most commonly experiencing hetero attraction, being caedstraight or shadowstraight, questioning one's orientation and choosing to consider oneself straight until "proven otherwise", any other experiences of near but not exactly hetero/straight attraction and/or hetero/straight attraction with additional complexities to it.

Cis-ish

A term for for when someone's close to but not quite cis(cisgender and/or cissex). This can be for a variety of reasons, including having gender that one views as similar enough to one's AGAB, being cisgenderless, being both cis and trans, having a "non traditional" relationship with cisness vs transness do to cultural reasons and/or being intersex, having a unique relationship with cisness do to be an alter in a system, questioning one's gender and choosing to consider oneself cis until "proven otherwise", any other experiences of near but not exact cisness and/or cisness with additional complexities to it.

Perisex-ish

A term for for when someone's close to but not quite perisex(or whichever synonym). This is usually because someone is questioning if they are intersex and consider themself perisex until they find evidence to the contrary. It can also refer to having [not do to transitioning] sex traits that considered "non typical" but aren't intersex, or no one has talked about if they're intersex or not. Or other experiences similar to the first two.

Do NOT use this term to imply that perisex altersex and transsex people are somehow no longer fully perisex because they are transitioning. No one can "transition to non-perisex".

Monoamorous-ish, and Allo-ish

A term for for when someone's close to but not quite monoamorous. This can be for a variety of reasons, including being monoflexible, being monoamorous in most types relationships but not all, questioning one's amory and choosing to consider oneself monoamorous until "proven otherwise", any other experiences of near but not exactly monoamorous and/or monoamorous with additional complexities to it.

A term for for when someone's close to but not quite allo(or allospec). This can be for a variety of reasons, including being alloflexible or light greysexual, questioning one's orientation and choosing to consider oneself allo until "proven otherwise", any other experiences of near but not exactly allo attraction and/or allo attraction with additional complexities to it. (specific allo orientations are here)

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

A.N.: It's not as murdery as it sounds 😅 But, as per usual: minors DNI. It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

1. Specialty Ingredients

Steve watches, mouth literally hanging open, as it happens again: his date is stomping away, mad.

He just called Steve a scrawny, cock-teasing twink for making out a little on the sidewalk, but then declining to go back to his place to hook up. The guy pressed the issue and Steve got frustrated and told him tersely that he wasn't interested because they just met, okay? That went over like a lead balloon.

Steve scowls as the jerk disappears around the corner at the end of the block. “Well fuck you too,” he mutters, feeling put out—and okay, a little hurt, too. He’s not a cocktease. He’s not scrawny.

Well, maybe that second one is kind of true, but Steve hates how guys will act like they’re into his small stature when they think he’s a sure thing, but then get all derogatory and mean about it once he tries to tell them he’s looking for more than a hookup and wants to take it slow—and not even hetero people slow; gay guy slow, which is super fast in comparison! Steve just wants to get to know a guy for once before sleeping with him. Is that really so bad?

He huffs and turns around, walking dejectedly back to his car. Another handsome asshole, another hope dashed, another pathetic date. He really does have the worst luck, and he’s getting plain sick of it. He checks his phone before he drives away.

Clint: Well???

Steve sighs. He types back a reply to his friend

Steve: another dud

Clint: dude …

Steve rolls his eyes and chucks the phone onto the passenger seat. He turns the key in the ignition, the radio coming on to an old eighties love ballad that just worsens his sense of dejection. “Fucking figures,” he mutters, putting the car into drive.

He leaves the song playing though, because sometimes wallowing is called for.

The next morning, Steve wakes up in a glum mood. He tries to focus on his work for most of the day, rather than his horrible luck with dating, but as he paints the hours away he winds up pouting about it anyhow. He sinks further and further into a depressing pit of self-pity and despair.

Clint texts him, asking if he wants to go out and sing karaoke or something, and Steve knows he’s just trying to cheer him up and all, but he really can’t stand the thought of being cheerful right now.

Steve hates gay guys, he thinks, stomping over to the crappy small sink in his crappy small apartment’s kitchen. He runs the water and rinses off his brushes with a vengeance they don’t deserve. Gay guys suck. Steve hates how shallow they all are, how vapid and self-centered. All they want is to go clubbing and fuck around and that’s it. None of them want a real relationship, and they think Steve is boring for wanting to have a meaningful conversation instead of suck their dicks right away. He gets grumpier about it the more he thinks, and he even has the thought that at least if he were straight he could find someone with feelings, a desire for genuine connection. “Gay guys suck,” he mutters to his poor, abused paint brushes.

Nevermind that Steve himself is incontrovertibly homosexual and has no choice in the matter of what his dating pool consists of. After all: ‘Haters gonna hate, players gonna play’. “Gaays gonna gay, gay, gay, gay, gay.” Steve sings the tune under his breath. He just hates it, hates it all. He’s sick and tired of playing the game.

He sends Natalie a nastily self-deprecating text:

Steve: Know any of your girlfriends who might want to date a faggot?

It’s not nice, and he knows she won’t like him using that word in that context.

Natalie Potential Rich!! Buyer: another douche huh?

He sighs and texts back an apology with a huggy emoji.

Steve: Sorry 🤗 Just frustrated. All the good ones are taken and I’m not interested in the skanks who’re left over.

Natalie responds with the “Give that man a Snickers” Diva-meme, which makes Steve realize that he is, in fact, hungry. He needs to get something to eat. He needs to focus on himself for a change. Maybe it’s finally time to stop looking for Mr. Right and just enjoy Steve Rogers. Maybe he should join a gym, start a new hobby, anything to fill up his time with himself rather than another person. 

He goes into the kitchen, thinking that he’ll make something yummy and binge watch a new series off his Netflix list, but scowls at the barren interior that greets him when he opens the fridge door. Nothing good to eat. “Fuck,” he mutters. He’s got to go to the grocery store now before he can sit down with a meal and relax.

And it’s raining outside, too. Just his fucking luck.

His phone ‘pings’ and he looks over at where he’d set it on the counter. The screen is lit up with a new notification from Grindr:

Henry super liked you!

He picks up the phone and opens the app. Henry’s profile pic is only from the neck down, showing off his abs. Steve rolls his eyes. The next picture is his lower half, a pair of tighty-whities stretched over his erection making it lewd, but still within the app’s no dick pic rules. The third pic is of his bare ass in a jockstrap.

Steve spends a second more than he intends appreciating the guy’s backside, but then he growls and jabs his finger at the screen to reject the guy. He’s fucking fed up with this entire thing! On a sudden, right-feeling whim, he exits the app and holds his finger down on the screen until all the icons start wiggling with their little x’s. He quickly proceeds to delete Grindr, Scruff, and Hornet from his phone.

He’s fucking done with dating. He’s giving up. Steve is just not meant to find Mr. Right. Not this year, anyway. He feels lighter after deleting the apps, and he slides his unburdened phone into his pocket with a sense of accomplishment and a shiny new idea: He’s not going to date for a whole year. He’s going to make this The Year of Steve.

Fuck yeah.

He goes to the hall closet to grab his umbrella and rain boots.

The walk to FreshMart is only four blocks from his apartment, but he still arrives at the grocery store a little damp from the gusting rain. He shakes off his umbrella by the door, grabs a basket, and directs himself towards the produce aisle. He’s added fingerling potatoes and some asparagus spears to his basket, and has just started perusing the meat section when he hears a man’s voice say, 

“Hey, have you ever had this?”

Steve looks over. The guy is holding up a package of bloody red … something. Steve blinks. “Um …”

The stranger twists his lips and shakes his head, looking at the meat. “It’s venison. I thought I’d freak my sister out with something a little different.”

“Your sister?” Steve asks, feeling very odd at being asked his opinion in the middle of the meat department. He looks between the package of raw meat and the stranger—He’s unusually handsome, tall and strong-jawed, brown hair styled in an effortlessly flattering cut. Steve licks his lips nervously. “Um, isn’t that like, deer meat?” He takes a step closer to peer down at the label. “Huh.” He didn’t know regular grocery stores sold that kind of thing. “That’s … exotic,” he says, for lack of a better word.

The stranger chuckles. “Yeah, well. I actually don’t eat animals, so …” he shrugs. “But her and her husband and kids are total carnivores. Thought I’d bring something other than my usual bottle of wine.”

“Oh.” Steve peers up at the man, trying to figure him out. The man smiles sheepishly and Steve winds up smiling, charmed, if somewhat baffled. He looks the man in the eyes and is taken by how pretty they are, how intense. Damn he’s good looking. “Well I, ah, couldn’t tell you what it tastes like. I’ve never had it.” He makes a face. “Like I said, it’s exotic.”

“Oh I love to cook with exotic ingredients. I’m kind of an amateur cuisinier. Or at least I try to be.”

“Oh. Right.” Steve gestures to the blood package. “But you ah … you don’t cook only vegetarian stuff?”

The man grins (and shoot, he’s got an unfairly attractive smile, too). “I guess I just like to satisfy other people’s appetites,” he says, lips parted enticingly. And then his tongue darts out in this totally casual, should-be-illegal sort of way. “I take it you’re a meat eater,” he says knowingly.

Is that a double entendre? Steve thinks it might be a double entendre. Yes! he wants to scream. Yes! He is 1000% a meat eater. He gulps as the guy’s eyes flick down and back up his body in a heated onceover, and Steve may not always be the brightest bulb in the box, but he can tell when he’s being considered. Is this guy really flirting with him? Here? In the freaking grocery store? Is that even a real thing that happens, anymore? Steve flushes and pulls his shopping basket up higher in front of himself, like a shield. “I–I see,” he stammers. “Well … um … yeah.” God, he’s hopeless.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Venison’ll probably be … different.” He nods at the stranger, awkward and aware that the other man isn’t moving away. “Well. Good luck.” He turns and vacantly peruses the meats, pretending that he’s more invested in searching out the perfect porkchop than he really is. He hears the guy’s footsteps moving away.

“Fuck it,” the man says, and turns right back around. He takes a deep breath. “I like your boots.”

“What?”

The guy nods downwards. “Your rain boots. They’re really cute.”

Steve looks down at his feet. His rubber boots are pink and printed with the golden girls’ faces. He looks back up at the stranger, stunned. No straight guy on planet Earth would ever say such a thing. “Um. Thanks.”

The guy holds out his hand, friendly, like he’s not aware he’s acting weird as shit. “I’m James.”

Steve probably stares too long at the offered hand, before he hurries to shove the handles of his shopping basket up onto his one arm so that he can take the guy’s—James’—hand and shake it. It’s pleasantly large over his own hand. “Steve.”

James smiles. He’s arrestingly handsome when he doesn’t smile and Steve feels like an even weaker creature when he does. “Sorry,” James says, looking down shyly. “I uh, I don’t usually do this.”

“Do what?” Steve asks, keenly aware that he may just be about to be propositioned. He winces at the idea of having to turn down another good-looking jerk.

James tilts his head. “Would you …” He hesitates, eyes flicking up and over as a woman passes them. She turns and goes down the soda aisle. He looks back to Steve, distracted. “I was gonna be crazy and ask for your number,” he says, flushing. Steve doesn’t even get a chance to say anything before James is scrubbing his hand over his embarrassed face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re probably not even—” He looks back to the soda aisle where the woman had gone. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, and starts to walk away. “Human disaster in the meat aisle. Just ignore me, please.”

“Wait!” Steve blurts. James turns back around. “Why do you want my number? Were you gonna ask me out? Like on a date?” He uses the word purposefully.

“Well, yeah.” James looks apologetic. “Sorry. I know it’s weird.”

It is weird. But Steve is kind of charmed by the guy’s odd methods. He promptly pushes away his resolution of The Year of Steve. “James,” he says, taking a step closer. “Um, you can. Have my number.” He peeks up at him shyly. “If you want.”

James' happy-surprised-enthused smile is the best one yet. They exchange numbers.

Clint: Wait, wat do you mean, the grocery store??

Steve: he came over and just started talking to me.

Clint: … that’s weird, man. That’s shady.

Steve: actually it was kind of cute. Kind of idk old fashioned.

Clint: Kind of weird. Whats his Insta?

Steve doesn’t hear from James for almost three days. He alternates between finding it refreshing, and being disappointed. Maybe Clint’s right. Maybe the guy was just a weirdo.

Then, on the third day, Steve is leaving from his morning shift at Michaels when he hears his phone ‘ping’ with a notification. When he sees the name “Weird Meat Guy” on the screen, his face splits in a grin.

Weird Meat Guy: Been thinking about you since the other day.

Happy butterflies come to life in Steve’s stomach at the flirtatious tone of the text. His first instinct is to force himself to ignore it for at least thirty minutes, so that he doesn’t seem overeager. But then he thinks, fuck it, just like James had said in the grocery store before turning right back around to ask him out.

Steve types a reply.

Steve: hey stranger. Yeah I was wondering how that venison worked out for you. 😂What’s it taste like?

Weird Meat Guy: I don’t eat animals, not even for my sister’s Sunday dinners. But she said it was fine. Not as good as regular old cow, though🐄🥩

Steve: not surprising.

There’s a bit of a pause where he can see James is typing and deleting and typing again. Then,

Weird Meat Guy: Do you want to go out tonight? We could grab drinks or something?

Steve bites his lip, bad memories of “casual” meetups and “just grabbing drinks” dates and what they’ve always led to, in the past.

Steve: let’s go out to eat. At a restaurant or something. A real date.

James texts back almost immediately, and his answer makes Steve beam like a fool.

Weird Meat Guy: Hell yeah. What’s your favorite kind of food?

Steve can’t help it; he has a good-verging-on-great feeling about this guy. He tries to tuck away his expectations that this time it’ll be different. He can still do The Year of Steve if or when this goes wrong. He’ll just try this one last time though. Just once more before he swears off being a “meat eater” for the year.

He tells James that he really likes Italian food, and the next thing he knows, James is sending him the link to a really nice and expensive Italian place in Brooklyn. Steve thrills at James' enthusiasm, and grimaces at the three dollar signs that Google has lined up beside the restaurant’s name.

He tells James okay, figures he’ll just tighten up his budget a bit for a few weeks after.

James meets him inside the restaurant, at the bar. He’s already got a drink in his hand. “It’s an old fashioned,” he tells him sheepishly. “Sorry to start without you.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I just get a little nervous when I ask a cute guy out to dinner.”

Steve freezes, but then his mouth twitches. “Oh,” he says. “You, ah … you think I’m cute, huh?”

James grins and winks at him in a way that is devastating and should-not-be-allowed. “Yeah. I sure do.”

Steve is charmed.

The hostess seats them in a dark and cozy booth in the back of the restaurant. Steve settles in and looks around, impressed. “This is a really nice place,” he says, genuinely meaning it but also kind of anxious to open his menu and get a look at whatever prices garnered a $$$ on Google.

“Yeah it’s one of my favorites.” James is grinning at him from across the table. “I was so glad you picked Italian, cause then I knew I had the perfect place to bring you.”

Bring you. Steve looks down and tries not to smile too obviously at the words. “I like it so far,” he says, peeking up coyly at James so that he knows Steve doesn’t just mean the restaurant.

James seems to get it, if his expression is anything to go by.

They open their menus and Steve’s stomach drops at the forty dollar appetizers. Shit. He wishes he’d found a way to mention to James that he’s kind of a starving artist.

“Do you like mushrooms?” James asks, oblivious to Steve’s internal panic. He’s looking across the table at him with eager eyes. “They’ve got the best stuffed mushrooms I’ve ever had. I think they put crack in ‘em.”

Steve laughs despite himself, then decides ‘fuck it’ once again, and closes his menu with a nod. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s do it.” He’ll live frugally for a month if he has to.

James orders them the appetizer and an entire bottle of wine that he knows by its specific name and year. All Steve makes out is the “‘94 ” part of it, and his heart rate picks up. He’s about to really worry about how the hell much a place like this is going to charge for an entire bottle of wine that’s older than he is, but then when the server delivers it and pours for them, James shoots him a wink and tells him, “S’my treat.”

Oh. Steve’s heart flutters as much at the gentlemanly gesture as it does at the possibility that maybe James will pay for the whole meal. A guy can dream.

The mushrooms arrive and Steve gushes to James about how he was right: they are amazing. They get to talking, covering the standard ‘first date’ questions, and it’s stupid and awkward like it always is; but also it isn’t, because James seems to laugh about the awkwardness of it, too. And that makes it kind of fun.

James is thirty-seven to Steve’s twenty-seven (Daddy kink: activated). He has a place in Manhattan but his sister lives in Brooklyn, which is why he was shopping at the FreshMart in Steve’s neck of the woods the other day. He’s got one parent still living, grew up with a loving family but “pretty poor” in Jersey. He hasn’t been in a relationship or even been on a date in “a really long time.” He wants to travel more but he lets his work consume him too much. He doesn’t eat animals.

He’s also really good at making the whole first-date interrogation-phase go smoothly. It’s fun with him, Steve realizes, not awful and strained like it usually would be. Their conversation just seems to flow naturally and easily, both of them smiling almost continually as they chat and joke.

Steve is utterly charmed.

“Okay,” James says, as he pops another mushroom into his mouth and then talks around it. “I’ll do another boring one: what do you do for work?”

Steve gulps and delays answering by taking a sip of the wine—a red that downright tastes expensive. “Um, well my passion is my art. It’s what I went to school for.” He tucks his lips in and shrugs. “But, ya know, ‘starving artists,’ and all that. So I work part time at Michaels, too.”

James doesn’t look like he’s thinking that Steve’s a stereotype or a loser or anything like that. “That’s awesome!” he says, sounding like he genuinely means it. “What kind of art? Or like, what medium do you work with?”

Steve blinks. Nobody ever asks him good questions like this, like they actually care and want to dig deeper into who he really is. “Um, mostly acrylics. Some watercolors and pencil-charcoal sketching,” he says, flustering at the way that James pays such close attention to his answers. “I like to mix it up sometimes, but mostly it’s those three.” He shrugs. “I sell online. I have one really loyal patron—she keeps me afloat. S’nothing that special.”

“Sounds like you know your stuff,” James counters, not letting him insist on his own mediocrity. “If you went to school for it and all, then you must be pretty good. Don’t you have to, like, audition for art school?”

Steve blushes and looks away. “Well. Yeah.”

“And I bet you get all your supplies cheap with the side gig, huh?”

Steve stares at him. “Yeah,” he says, impressed. “Employee discount.”

James nods sagely, as if he’s ever had to worry in his life about the utility of an employee discount. He might’ve grown up poor, but he’s clearly well-off now. Steve can tell that the suit he’s wearing is a custom tailored deal, and the wine he’s ordered for the table has a bouquet of oak and dollar bills. “I think it’s really brave of you,” he’s telling Steve, looking like he admires him or something ridiculous like that. “That you’re following a passion like that? That you can just …” he makes a shaping gesture over the table with his hands, “make something with your own two hands and then sell it? That’s incredible.”

The more James talks, the more Steve gets his hopes up that he might actually be A Really Great Guy™️. Steve can hardly stand to take all the compliments, so he turns the question back around on James: “What about you? What do you do for work?”

James hesitates. “... I’m a surgeon.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops open, making him look like A Gold Digger™️, probably. He closes his mouth. “Oh. Wow, that’s … that’s neat. Medical school, then, huh?”

James smiles through a wince, as if being a freaking doctor is no big deal. “Yeah. It was rough for a few years, but I got through it. I’m in a good place now. It’s pretty smooth sailing.”

“So do you work at like a hospital or something?”

“Not exactly.” He stares at him for a long moment, then suddenly says, “Gosh, I’m just really attracted to you, Steve.” Steve blinks, taken-aback. He reaches for a hurried sip of his wine and tries to think of a response to the weird shift in conversation. “Sorry,” James hurries. “I just felt like I had to say it.” He gives Steve a tender look rather than a lecherous one, which is a welcome change from the usual script. “I think I might really like you.”

Steve flusters and averts his eyes to the tabletop, peeking back up at James a few times. The guy is totally focused on him. It’s intimidating, but not in a bad way. “Yeah,” Steve eventually manages to murmur. “Yeah I think you might be nice.”

James teases him about the ‘nice’, and they fall into easy banter again as they finish the mushrooms and open up their menus to choose their entrees. Steve’s once again fixated on the prices, and he immediately starts trying to see if there’s anything under sixty dollars …

“By the way,” James says casually, not looking up from where he’s reading his menu. “I know this place is fucking ridiculous: I got it covered.”

He says it all easy and nonchalant, like it’s no big deal that he’s treating Steve to what’s probably a three hundred dollar dinner, and Steve once again feels like he’s on a date with a hero, a real gentleman. “Kay,” he says smally, feeling delighted and hopeful as heck on the inside. 

He orders a seafood linguini, and James gets a spinach and cheese tortellini dish. “This is so good,” Steve practically moans around a mouthful of his food. 

James makes a noise of agreement, stuffing another tortellini shell in his mouth. “Mmph.”

“So you really don’t eat any meat?” Steve winds up asking. “Like, not even fish or chicken or anything?” Where does he get his protein? James looks like he keeps in good shape …

James chuckles. “Nope. Haven’t touched the stuff for … gosh, almost fifteen years.”

“Wow.” Steve spears up another shrimp from his pasta and wonders if it offends James. “So like, is it an ethical thing or just …”

“No, no. I just kind of had this epiphany one day—while I was tenderizing a thigh, mind you—that all the things I was eating were living creatures, that we’re animals just like they are.” He makes a thoughtful face as he considers it. “It’s not a moral viewpoint so much as it is a …” he trails off and his eyes return to Steve with an apologetic shrug. “I dunno. My viewpoint shifted that day. Couldn’t shift it back. I’ve tried so many other things now, animal meat just doesn’t taste the same anymore.”

“I can respect that.” Steve wiggles his fork that’s speared with a juicy scallop. “As long as you don’t mind this.” 

“No, no way. Don’t you remember where we met?”

Steve snickers. “Oh yeah, how could I forget. What was it you said? You like to ‘satisfy other people’s appetites’?” He chances a flirty look across the table. “Wasn’t that how you put it?”

James chews, smirking, and he winks at Steve again. Goddamn. “Yeah,” he says lowly. “Yeah. I sure do.”

On the sidewalk outside the restaurant they stand close together, bundled in their jackets. Neither one of them seems to want to leave. “Thanks again,” Steve says. “For dinner. It was really nice.”

“My pleasure.” James takes a step closer, so that they’re almost toe to toe. “I was so excited to go out with you,” he says. He brings a hand up and traces the side of Steve’s face with the backs of his fingers, not looking at Steve’s eyes but rather where he’s touching his cheek. “You’re different,” he murmurs. "And I knew it the moment I met you."

Wow, what a fucking intense thing to say. Steve … doesn’t hate it. “I am?” he whispers, watching his breath swirl on the air between their faces.

“Mmhm. I can tell.” 

Steve shivers and fights the urge to press into James’ touch on his cheek. It feels unduly intimate, and they’re already so close. “I was excited for tonight, too,” he confides. “I’ve had a lot of bad luck with dating. Was getting sick of trying, to be honest.”

“But?” James asks softly, and Steve looks up at him, for once feeling open and honest enough to just admit,

“But I didn’t meet you on some app. And you liked my stupid Golden Girls boots.” James chuckles and Steve looks up, taking in his face up close: the dimple in his chin, the creases of age that’ve barely begun to collect at the corners of his eyes, that one tiny patch of grey in his beard. It makes him all the more insufferably handsome. “And you’re charming,” he whispers. “So there’s that.”

James smiles softly. “Aw, shucks.”

“I think you’re a really nice guy, James. I’d like to see you again.”

James' smile widens hopefully. “Yeah?” he says, leaning even closer.

“Yeah. I think, well … I just think …”

“What?” James touches his face again, this time palming his cheek. “Tell me.”

“Oh, it’s nothin’.” Steve finally lets his eyes slip closed, enjoying the feeling of James’ hand on his skin, the cologne he gets a whiff of when they’re standing this close. “You smell nice.”

“Thank you. Still haven’t told me what you were gonna say.”

Steve smiles sadly. “Oh, I’m just getting my hopes up about you, is all.” He’s still got his eyes closed when James kisses him. He inhales sharply through his nose, surprised. But he doesn’t pull away, and they just … keep kissing.

Eventually James cups his face with both hands and Steve moans, because the way James is kissing him feels so natural and good. He feels like he can taste James' good intentions as they make out softly, right there on the sidewalk.

When they part they’re both panting a little, heavy-lidded eyes flicking over one another, gauging, desire tinged with uncertainty. “That was …” James breathes.

“Yeah,” Steve says, and they both stare at each other for another long moment, before Steve says, “Fuck it,” and surges in to grab James by his jacket and kiss him again, this time harder. James whimpers needily into his mouth, and heat shoots through Steve’s belly at hearing it, arousal flaring to life faster than he can handle. Suddenly his pants feel a little tight, and he wants James so badly he can hardly stand it. “Oh man,” he groans, pulling away from the kiss, grimacing at himself for what he’s about to say. “I really, really never do this,” he promises against James' lips. “But … Do you want to go back to my place?”

James' eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Fuck. Yeah, okay.”

They kiss eagerly one more time and then hurry off, giddy, hands clasped, and headed in the direction where James says he’s parked his car.

Masterlist

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[subspaceskater]

would you ever be interested in dating a cis(-ish), hetero(-ish) guy?

I mean I wouldn't rule them out, but the ish after hetero would have to do some seriously heavy lifting since half of my system is boys. also don't really have the time or energy to think about dating anyone that isn't already a close friend. or the time or energy to make new close friends.

[hana-no-seiiki]

SOME YANDERE FLUFF TO BRIGHTEN YOUR DAY.

// fantasy creature cruelty. yandere themes. heteronormative society (sort of?? both your paternal and maternal grandparents come in hetero pairs)

I don’t know if you guys read my yan! father fic yet but do go check out @yoru-no-seiiki for it (Unless you’re a minor cause that acc doesn’t allow those) as it happens in the same universe(ish) as this one.

So by now you’ve already met yan! father.

BUT WHAT ABOUT CUTE HIGH FANTASY YAN! GRANDPARENTS AND OLD MENTOR.

(honestly would love to see my moot’s takes on yan! grandparents so if ya’ll see this. it’s not only a sign but a call to aid plez)

mostly based off of mairimashita iruma kun’s sullivan, your YAN! PATERNAL GRANDPA and GRANDMA spoil you a shit ton.

YAN! P! GRANDPA is more on the type to spoil you physically/monetarily. If you have a need or even the slightest hint of desire for something, consider it received. He has saved so much of your drawings and if you happen to be the kid who drew monsters/weird abominations as a child then ya boi definitely has frankensteined some into being. His creations happened to net him a ton of money which he spent all on you as ‘thanks’ but everyone knows it’s just cause he’s infatuated with his cute grandchild.

YAN! P! GRANDMA leans heavily on the ‘unhealthily allowing this kid(you and yan!dad) to do whatever you want and even encouraging it’ sort of parenting. She taught how to kill and do it efficiently as a young child. Uncaring of whatever prophecies schmofeces oracles have of your future. She will make you into an indestructible machine and is hell-bent on it. … You have probably ingested a lot of poison from her cookies as a way to built immunity to the stuff.

Now your maternal grandparents are a lot let on the damaging side but are still pretty over the top.

Your YAN! MATERNAL GRANDPA loves showing off. He’s probably like a war general with many wives and sees love as ‘you worship/admire me’ which he sorta maybe passed unto you. He’s kind of like a caveman and believes a show of strength is in order to be successful. So there’s a lot of him flexing and challenging YAN! PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS to a duel.

Only for YAN! PATERNAL GRANDMA to swiftly have his ass wipe the floor.

YAN! MATERNAL GRANDMA is a jaded woman. She never loved her husband and had always wanted to flee the family and high society until you came along. I see her as the old version of those Manhwa female protags that have rebirthed multiple times and is just tired of the shitty life they’ve been dealt with. She’s incredibly knowledgeable on fashion, trends and the industry as a whole. She’ll make sure you look good at every turn. Maybe even start trends of your own. It doesn’t matter your body type and if isn’t what’s in at the moment, she’ll make it the moment. Unlike the paternal grandma and her husband, she would never put you in harms way. Even extending your time with her so you don’t have to do those barbaric acts with the others.

And then there’s YAN! MENTOR who swore to never have another child under him ever again. The last time he did that, said child (your father) destroyed his precious astrology tower and had him imprisoned for 5 years for a thing he never even did. Sure, 5 years is nothing for thousand or so year old man but boy was he pissed off.

YAN! MATERNAL GRANDPA had to threaten him to have you and YAN! MENTOR is almost thankful that he did.

YAN! MENTOR believes you to be his best student. It definitely did not start off that way. He thought that a prissy, spoiled brat like you would leave the moment he gave you a difficult task but you surprised him with your tenacity. Throughout all his trials for you, you always came out at top, if not persevered until your body couldn’t handle it anymore.

He definitely wants you to kill your dad as compensation though, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up writing him as the reason why you plotted to end the dude’s life.

To keep things fluffy, let’s say in this timeline, he saves you from your dad’s entourage and adopts you.

Your YAN! GRANDPARENTS definitely riot but all are mature enough to understand the situation in the end.

will write more on this on the future but for now, i gotta go! byeeee!!

[ailichi]

the crush I have on Liam Gallagher is not complicated by the way, it's not anything trendy or cutesy, it's actually très vanille. it's not online-ish in that I don't have any insane sentences I want to say about him or anything of that sort. like it comes down to I'd quite like to sleep with Liam of the 1990s, hetero, god fobid I say the word, sexually. he's beautiful. is this mic on

[ourg0dsal]

I think one of the things I'm most grateful for of the the locked tomb series is the fact that as a woman my strength is something that I can be proud of.

For context, I identify as a femme(ish) lesbian, but I'm also 5'9, not thin, and am also stronger than 90% of the boys I live with and it is something that is always brought up when new friends are brought around the house.

Ex:

"I don't know if she can lift that"

"Bro she is probably stronger than you are"

And for a really long time while I've always liked the independence that being strong has given me, especially as a woman. I also thought it took away my femininity which again, being tall and on the thicker side, is something I already struggled with.

But now, after reading the locked tomb (and in the middle of rereading it) my strength has become one of my favorite things about myself. And I actually have motivation to start working out so I can get stronger, and have the muscles to prove it. And also that even as a lesbian my idea of femininity was from that very hetero perspective of how a woman should look.

So anyways, ik Thanksgiving has already passed. Tho I don't celebrate it anyways, I'm thankful for that. The locked tomb has changed my self image drastically, and for the better I think.

[9w1ft]

So High School is such a fun song, if it's supposed to be about Travis and Taylor's 6-ish month long ~relationship~ with him then it's full of such stereotypical hetero Americana stuff to the point that it's really cringey and hilarious specifically because it's so cringey, but if it's supposed to be about Karlie and Taylor's decade long relationship with her then it's not only a campy AF subversion of the stereotypical Americana stuff but also kinda tooth-achingly sweet and silly and fun that Taylor still internally does gay keysmashes in her brain when she looks at or even thinks of Karlie after a decade together tbh

IDK, Taylor genuinely likes that Karlie is a gentleman according to the lyrics of Slut! so the line in So High School about Taylor's partner getting the car door for her makes me smile every time okay, I can't help it, it just makes me remember those Ye Olde Kaylor pap pics from the 1989 Era where Karlie opened the car door for Taylor and put her hand on Taylor's lower back when she was helping Taylor into the car and Taylor had the smuggest grin on her face because it turns out that chivalry isn't dead and her name happens to be Karlie Elizabeth Kloss 🙈

yes the car door line! i know exactly the photos you’re talking about 😭😭

[jamesunderwater]

also while we're whining, I spent hours tonight looking through new/upcoming queer romance novels and found a total of five that were about a trans man and a woman, and of those only three were a trans man/cis woman. and anyway the more i really settle into this new understanding of myself as a trans man who is mostly attracted to femmes, the more i feel just....so on the fucking outskirts of everything. being a trans man who presents mostly hetero is.....like you're not woman enough to be sapphic, you're not homo enough to be a gay guy, but you're also not cis so you don't feel like just some straight dude. and somehow all the queer and trans media out there has decided all trans men are gay, and sapphics are almost exclusively cis lesbians, so if a trans man and a queer woman are in the same room together it's probably on accident and there's no way they'd be attracted to each other.

lol and then you add in any sort of ace, aro, autistic, or adhd rep, and god forbid ask for it to not only be about white people??? i stg if i want a book about a latine trans guy who is ace-ish, audhd, and just wants to hold hands with a pretty girl, i'm gonna have to write that fucking thing myself.

and if I'm wrong and you know of books like this that already exist, dear god, please tell me. (i do definitely recommend the spirit bares its teeth by joseph white for a lot of good rep, but that book is so far from the romance novel i'm looking for here)

[zara2148]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Seek is so disappointing to me because it's trying way too hard to make the characters hetero. I'm sorry, but when I heard the premise of "post-canon story where a man returns claiming to be Dr. Jekyll, and Utterson struggles because he knows that's not true but also can't explain why he knows that's not true" I wanted more insight into Henriel, not for Utterson to proclaim some long lasting obsession with a woman he and Jekyll both dated.

Seriously, I'm just screaming about how great this "identity theft thriller" could have been if it just leaned into the gay subtext of the original and had Utterson more conflicted about wanting Jekyll back vs Knowing he can't be back.

(and maybe if this was my fanfic Jekyll IS genuinely back and is just being very Hyde-ish about his return to Utterson).

[popironrye]

Are The Lost Boys Poly or Platonic?

Answer - Yes?

If I could lore dump a little, I'd like to add after seeing discussion on this topic:

When I created my trio of lost boys ocs (Blair Stevie and Mavin) to write a love story between them +star and the boys, I thought making them all poly would be more interesting to write about. See I don't much care for writing and art that involved the boys all sharing a single (usually woman) stand in where all the romantic stuff is done by one or more boy at a time with this stand in while the others just kinda wait their turn. OC, self-insert, reader insert or otherwise. It always came off to me as harem-ish and there's nothing wrong with that OF COURSE, it's just not what I'm into.

And with my ocs specifically, I also could have gone the hetero monogamous route, since there are 4 women and 4 boys. That being Blair with David, Stevie with Dwayne, Star with Paul (which I really do ship btw), and Mavin with Marko but the lost boys always had this queer coded side (even though I am shipping them with women) and having my girls, Blair specifically being a bisexual women who falls in love with Star is something I wanted to focus on, not to mention I like my ocs with all the boys. I think they can get a different equal level of romantic enjoyment with a different boy, and therefore my girls are poly with the boys as well as Star. Standard convention of romance kinda seems like a nebulous rule to follow when you have immortal vampires and witches in the mix, so why not make them all bi and poly?

Now of course, I do have a story in the works where everyone is one big platonic family. Judy and her daughters. 'The blood sucking brady bunch' as I've so affectionally called them. In this work, Judy and Max are romantically involved but they're the only non platonic ones as the boys acting as Max's sons and Judy's actual daughters begin to pal around like step siblings and they behave as such. In that work, I also put a lot of emphasize on familial love with Judy being a caring mother who would do anything for her children and having her take in the boys as sons she never had. I also want to see Judy pull Max out of his shell. He kinda distances himself from the boys and to him it's for their own good and keeps him out of the trouble they're always getting into, but Judy knows what's it like having 3 teenage daughters of her own that get into trouble. Max is a much more involved father figure to the boys with Judy's help as well as a figure to her little girls.

Ok, so I dumped a lot there, but I hope this shows that writing to boys platonic or non platonic are both valid and depend on the work they're used in. XD

But what about you guys? Please share how you've charactized the boys in your own work! I'd love to hear about your own ocs and sonas! 😍

[generic-whumperz]

Waylon (Character sheet)

Picrew

Playlist | Masterlist | Character Info

Wyatt’s older brother and Eleanor’s and Waylon Sr.’s crowned golden child, Waylon Jr. (Lon), is a cunning businessman with a folksy “cowboy Don” exterior who has climbed his way to the top of Apocamerica's underworld. Masking behind a stoic demeanor lies a ruthless opportunist who will stop at nothing to maintain power and control, sight set on building an empire through tactical manipulation and calculated brutality. A master of playing all sides, he uses his charm and wit to get what he wants. Waylon's loyalty and protection are renowned but conditional, and he'll discard anyone who becomes a liability. Nevertheless, he has a deep sense of fidelity to his close circle of those he cares about, but good luck on peeling back his multi-layered façade to reveal his complex web of allegiances that crown him as leader of the remaining free world. His bond with his younger cousin Vinny is unbreakable–Vinny selflessly often acts as the mediator between Waylon and Wyatt.

Meanwhile, Waylon's circumstantial partnership with The Aid—whom he sees as a vital asset in his quest for power—has been a double-edged sword. The Aid’s insights grant him an unparalleled advantage but ensnare him in a cycle of violence, deceit, and jealousy with his business associates. His relationship with Wyatt has been fraught with tension since childhood. He struggles to reconcile their glaring differences–made all the worse by Wyatt’s persistent abuse of Waylon’s most coveted advisor–The Aid.

Full name: Waylon Hugo Weston Sullivan Jr. (Lon)

Role: tertiary antagonist, Whumper, Wyatt's foil character

Date of Birth & sign: January 18, 1972 (60), Capricorn (story takes place in the year 2032)

Gender: cis-male

Sexuality: hetero

Height: 6'4"

Weight/body type/build: 60-year-old dad bod, tall, board-shouldered, barrel-chested, built like a linebacker. Don’t make me guess weight…idk, like 280lbs-ish?

Hometown: San Diego, CA

Family Members: Sullivan family tree. Devoted husband and family man and has four children. Oldest sibling out of the Sullivan trio, the only brother with a relationship with his and Wyatt’s younger sister, Winny. Lives with his wife and two youngest kids—Emma (13) and Waylon Ⅲ (AKA Lonnie) (11). Eldest daughter, Rachel (29), is his protégé groomed to take over the business and engaged to the Governor’s son. Second eldest daughter, Taylor (24), is in and out of rehab.

Left/right handed: right

Fav genre of music & anthem: oldies, especially classic country. Doggone Cowboy by Marty Robbins

Occupation: head of the family-owned livestock farm, Oasis Farms, and the Sullivan and Bellmont fortune beneficiary. While Wyatt received The Aid after Eleanor's passing, Waylon received more responsibility and Eleanor's running business contracts. Although he runs a legitimate business, he also deals in illegal, black market slave trade and labor and business racketeering. He is part of a cabal of business associates that have taken over the resource and trade markets of Apocamerica. He's become politically and professionally advantageous despite his desire for retirement to maintain his family's standing. He attributes a fair amount of his success to The Aid's involvement and cooperation in weeding out untrustworthy and scheming (ex)partners that were out for the Sullivans’ spot as top distributors of meat and produce. He's in the trenches of organized crime and has taken on the role of something akin to a Mafia boss or Don. While he enjoys the power and status, deep down, he just wishes he was out on the ranch competing in rodeo events. Valedictorian, Harvard Alumni, business and economics major.

Ethnicity (+ American): Italian, French, Greek, North and West European, English

Hair color & length: silver fox. Was a dirty blonde when he was younger, but now he's sporting a full head of gray. Cut short, longer on the top, and brushed to the side. Facial hair: has a full, nicely groomed beard. Body hair: on the hairier side with chest hair.

Hygiene: excellent hygiene. Meticulously groomed. Skincare king who is not afraid to pamper himself. You will not catch him looking sloppy or underdressed. He lives to impress his wife and be the best-dressed and best-smelling man in every room he enters.

Eye color: deep-set, almond-shaped, sapphire blue eyes. Wears contacts and readers. Has a severe, unflinching stare that can turn into a scowl just as quickly as a smile.

Skin tone: peachy, neutral undertones. Moisturizing king, skin is glowing.

Facial features: rectangle-shaped head with a high dome. Thin, bow-shaped lips. Fleshy nose. Bushy but well-manicured and sculpted arched brows. Ears. Heavy jaw, rounded protruding chin. Regularly gets "natural looking" Botox injections to erase his face lines and fill in any sagging. Broad-lobed ears.

Mannerisms: he keeps his cards close to his chest and doesn't reveal much. He's a very still and impassive guy with minimal mannerisms and only makes calculated moves. One could argue that's a mannerism of its own right. Moves with an air of confidence. Employs slower and more fluid movements to convey that things happen on his terms when he wants them to. Steeples hands when thinking. Maintains eye contact. Holds head high. He walks with confidence and determination, his arms either fixed at his side or clasped behind his back. Maintains a stoic expression with little to no smiling; most you get is a smirk. Doesn't laugh a lot. Has a dry sense of humor that is easily missed. Figure-4 leg cross when seated. Generally unapproachable. Very hard person to read and gauge.

Nervous ticks: doesn't get nervous

Posture: relaxed and straight in a way that lets you know he's comfortable and in control.

Style: old-school gentleman vibes. Lots of dry-cleaned Dior suits, imported cashmere and vicuña wool sweaters, and diamond-encrusted cufflinks. He looks forward to events where he gets to pull out a Dolce & Gabbana 3-piece suit. He is very concerned with looks and first impressions. Lets his wife dress him. (Spent too much time picking out The Aid’s wardrobe with Eleanor and was very hands-on with The Aid’s introduction into the family…had to sus him out, as any good son would, of course).

Health: very healthy with no ailments or allergies. Eats well-balanced meals and exercises regularly (easier when you have personal chefs and a personal trainer). Doesn't drink or smoke often but will partake socially and will enjoy a cigar from time to time. Doesn't do hard drugs and is anti-junk food. Takes a shit ton of vitamins. Says living a mostly stress-free life is the secret (again, easy to say when you have a whole house staff and a whole team under you doing the leg work). Started to get arthritis but changed over to an anti-inflammatory diet and eating edibles to manage the pain.

Piercings/tattoos: nada

Birthmarks/scars: has a birthmark on his left shoulder blade but has gotten every scar lasered off with dermal regenerator treatments.

Language(s): English, some Italian, some Spanish, some Russian, some German, some French

Personality: controlling. Intelligent. Natural leader. Paternal. Subtly condescending (but obviously patronizing to Wyatt). Responsible. Prideful. Vain. Disciplined. Judgmental. Provider. Classy. Vengeful. Greedy. Possessive and protective. Organized. Narcissistic. Careful. Considerate. Calm and collected. Focused. Thoughtful. Educated. Charismatic. Confident. Honest. Efficient. Fearless. Logical. Polite, respectful, and mannered (and expects to be treated the same back). Observant. Comes across as emotionless and cold-hearted as he’s not expressive (tough shell to crack and a hard person to read). Sociable. Wise. Sincere. Decisive. Devoted. Conscientious. Independent. Perfectionist. Direct. Reserved. Rivals regard him as arrogant and smug. Well-read.

Vices: shooting practice, spending time with his horses, and taking his kids to the family ranch (he just wants to decompress with his family). Date night with his wife. Drinks occasionally. Enjoys a pipe of packed weed.

Voice: speaks with authority, voice rings modulated and smoky. Everything he says has more than one meaning. Tends to talk in riddles and rhymes but is still straight to the point. He is a man of few words when he's not ranting to Vinny or spewing aphorisms at Wyatt.

Smells like: CLEAN. Signature scent—Sauvage Dior cologne (fragrance profile below for other weirdos like me who are way too into scents). Black tourmaline and musk vibes.

Face claim(s): Bill Pullman

Character inspiration: Tywin Lannister (GOT), Detective Harry Ambrose (The Sinner), Kingpin/Wilson Fisk (Daredevil—TV series), most villain roles played by Harvey Keitel and Christoph Waltz

Other: Admittedly, Waylon is my favorite Sullivan, despite Wyatt taking center stage as The Aid's antagonist and rival. Don't let his lack of trigger warnings fool you—Lon is just as deadly, if not more so, than his younger brother. Waylon is a force to be reckoned with, making cold and calculated kills without breaking a sweat or getting a speck of blood on his suit. Cross him or his family, and he'll make you dig your own grave while confessing your sins—all while he watches emotionless with a solemn glare, executioner-style. And if you're lucky, your family might survive...but don't count on it. In typical Sullivan fashion, Waylon has a perverse relationship with The Aid, taking advantage of The Aid's desire to serve a greater purpose and gain the respect and admiration of Eleanor's favorite son in exchange for his psychic abilities.

Moodboards: where he is ~vs~ where he wants to be

[warrior-of-storms]

I did!! something else!! for pride month!! (I am horrifically disappointed in myself but the month's not over yet!!)

I'm not happy with this one either but I had to do WinterWidow as "totally hetero couple" lol the idea struck me and I just had to do it.

Pride Month 2024 Headcanons part two: WinterWidow

Natasha Romanov is very ace-spectrum-coded to me, and I tend to think that demisexual fits her best. I really don't have a good reason for that but that's the nice thing about headcanons. I really don't have to justify them. Anyway, Nat is demisexual heteroromantic.

Bucky Barnes is bi. I think he's a little more bi in the MCU than in the comics but honestly there's no doubt in my mind that this man is queer.

I put "couple" in quotation marks bc all my Pride Month Headcanons are canon to Tangled Threads, in which Bucky and Nat aren't really together together. They just live together and act in ways that most people would consider couple-ish and are practically married in everything but name. They're together, they just haven't discussed it.

I intend to do at least one more of these before the end of the month, hopefully two or three.

[teddykaczynski]

if i could magically change one small-ish thing or like transmit one idea into the mind of every person in a way that everyone would entirely understand and itd never be a debate again- itd be that the whole world understands theres only 4 sexualities (homo/bi/hetero/asexual, and that the -sex is biosex not the act of sex) and that having any amount of attraction to both sexes means you are bisexual

[felons-hunters-and-poets]

ghosts? oh, sure. we know all about 'em !

oh, the phone's ringing! Someone go get it! not my turn to deal with the clients, guys. ...fine. i'll pick it up. i'm just the leader of this whole thing. not, you know. an employee.

ℍ𝔼𝕃𝕃𝕆?

Rayne and Co. , who is this calling?

Have you been experiencing supernatural effects lately? Oh, then you've come to just the right place. *beeeeep.*

𝚁𝙰𝚈𝙽𝙴 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙲𝙾.

supernatural experts ; ghost hunters ; wanted criminals ; demigods ; artists ; forensics ; and monster hunters ; supernatural mediums ; all in one place! Got a dead body in your backyard? Maybe some skeletons in your closet? Or perhaps a monster on your tail? or the FBI? We've got you covered! Solara Alistair ; our resident medium, hunter and artiste ! Estella Fowl ; our resident smartass, strategist and techie ! And Athena Rayne ; owner, forensic expert and genius ! Contact us on this account, and we'll deal with all your hauuunnnting problems! Find us at the Rayne Manor at times [ CRACKLE ]

EMPLOYEE RECORDS -- SOLARA RAE ALISTAIR :

ALIAS: Sol ; Solsy ; Ara.

AGE: sixteen. GODLY PARENT: child of Apollo ; legacy of jupiter ; champion of Thanatos. GENDER: Female. FATAL FLAWS: naivety. SEXUALITY: Bisexual ; Demiromantic. APPEARANCE: dimpled grin ; blonde with brown-ish roots ; wolf-cut ; dull blue eyes ; lean ; shit-eating grin ; a python tattoo winding around her forearm. POWERS: ghost communication ; healing ; luring song etc. NOTES FROM THE EMPLOYER: enthusiastic. Efficient with a bow and arrow. Slightly unnerving. companionable. requested new painting supplies : order them. allergic to cats. Bow and Arrow. "hey, don't worry. the ghosts talk to me all the time. some of them are nice!"

EMPLOYEE RECORDS -- ESTELLA CASSIUS FOWL :

ALIAS: Stella. (note: do not call her estella. will punch you.)

AGE: eighteen. GODLY PARENT: child of Hades ; latent host of egyptian god, Thoth. GENDER: Female. FATAL FLAWS: anger. SEXUALITY: Panromantic ; Asexual. APPEARANCE: resting bitch face ; curly, boyish brown hair ; pale ; glasses ; hetero-chromic. POWERS: necromancy ; shadow travel ; spirit communication ; death touch etc. NOTES FROM THE EMPLOYER: snarky. surprisingly smart when she wants to be. secretive. gets along with solara. has requested new equipment: done. has requested me to fuck off: absolutely not. Can speak Egyptian? (to be looked into). Scythe.

"You know, I would be better at my job, if your freaking computer wasn't a gajillion years old! Tch. My skills are never appreciated."

so we dug up some info on athena -- C'mon, Sols! We've had ourselves exposed, now it's her turn! okay..but i kind of feel bad about this...

ATHENA VINCENT RAYNE :

ALIAS: Athena ; Rayne ; 'Thena.

AGE: Eighteen. GODLY PARENT: child of Jupiter ; legacy of Melinoe. GENDER: Female. FATAL FLAWS: [REDACTED] SEXUALITY: Demisexual. APPEARANCE: dark black hair to her jaw ; glasses ; fangish teeth ; sharp violet eyes ; emotion-devoid expression ; tall. POWERS: Electrokinesis ; photographic memory ; infliction of pain. NOTES FROM THE EMPLOYEES: I like her! She's nice! / Yeah, only to you. / aww, c'mon, stella, she's got it hard! / tch. fine. she's bearable.

𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉𝙆 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂 ! 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙀 𝘼𝙂𝘼𝙄𝙉 !

PEOPLE WE KNOW:

@justice-blood-and-tea - Kayne and Atlas ; Fellow investigators ! Tags:

#solara picks up - solara ic #stella breaks in - stella ic #rayne listens - athena ic #rayne and co. - together #phone is ringing - ooc.

WHO YOU GONNA CALL? THE INSURANCE COMPANY, MORONS.

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

NEW BLACK BUTLER OC DROP!!!

Full Name: Isabella Moreno

Age: 28

Race: (Human/Demon/Reaper/etc.) Human - Mexican

Sexual Preferences: (Hetero/Homo/Bi/Etc.) Demiromantic

Nickname(s): Issy, Bella, Angel

Alias(es): "Song Bird" (stage name)

Birth Place: Guanajuato, Mexico

Date of Birth: May 25th, 1861

Date of Death: N/A

Blood Type: N/A

Appearance of the Character

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Dark Brown/Black

Height: 5'6

Weight: 112 pounds

Handedness: (Right/Left/Ambidextrous) Left

Tattoos/Birthmarks/Scars: A small scar under her right knee cap

Jewelry/Accessories: Pearl necklaces, gold rings

General Appearance: Isabella is very beautiful woman with a hour glass type figure with medium wavey dark hair and luscious red lips with narrow brown eyes

About the Character

Personality: Sweet and caring once you get pass her cold mask

Favorites: Lemon tea, red wine Candy Floss, the scent of Lilacs and lavender

Least Favorites: When customers get handsy or rude, someone sneaking into her dressing room, if someone is rude or hurts her sisters

Hobbies/Interests: Dance, writing screenplay, reading

Phobias/Fears: Being alone, being harmed

Habits: Tugging/curling her curls

Mannerisms: She talks in a pretty clear way but with a lot of emotions in her movements, such as shoulder moves or animated hands

Skills/Talents: Singing, dancing

Best Qualities: Great singer, loyal to all dear to her

Worst Qualities: A bit of a pushy person

Morality/Ethics: She's a very loyal person who rarely lies

Goals/Motivations/Dreams: (Describe character’s goals, motivations, or dreams)

Hand-to-Hand Combatant: (explain how good they are without usage of a weapon)

Strength: While she isn't the strongest physically she's strong mentally

Durability: She's very light on her feet

Character Type:

Class of Society: Middle Class-ish (I say this cause it's hard to tell how high or low performers were back then in comparison) but makes enough to have a good home in London Living Conditions: An apartment in London

Least Dominate Gene: N/A

Style of Living: Performer

Occupation: Burlesque performer

Fighting Style: She goes for the legs first than groin/stomach and try to run, if caught she goes for the head or neck area next

Preferred Weapon(s): She has a pistol she has hidden for protection

Relationships

Family: Mother - Dolores Moreno (deceased)

Father - Unknown

Siblings: Amelia Moreno (younger half-sister), Maria (half-sister)

Friends: The other performers

Pets: None

Enemies: N/A

Character Background: Isabella was born from her mother Dolores who was a maid in a well off family but was kicked onto the streets after her 4th birthday after, from what her mother said, Dolores' affair was found out by the wife. She took care and raised her half-sisters Amelia and Maria mostly by herself as her mother works varies jobs that slowly turned to prostitution just to get by. By 13 her mother met and married a much older English gentlemen who took her and her sisters to London where she stayed since. By this time, she was already getting plenty of admires of her appearance and feared to be attacked her hurt after a few incidences of men following her where she goes. At 18 she got a job working at the local theater cleaning and would watch the performances in the shadows in awe. One night as she cleans alone she sings a bit which catches the attention of a man named Mister Johnathon Crafts, a owner of a burlesque who offers her a job right on the spot. At first she wasn't do much performing since she refused to show any skin but soon got used to it and became a hit thanks to her humor and her incredible voice. Though she still dreams to leave this life behind and be a writer or actual theater shows and maybe even be married to a man who loves her deeply regardless her status...

I used this template for this character! She's heavily based off all the Peter x Hispanic SO content I have made thanks to the ever so wonderful @onehellofashadynerd cause she helped birth this beautiful woman

[chounaifu]

I do like the dash dialogue about making your characters a little lame and awkward and dorky, because ultimately, what is considered "lame" is usually decided by white, hetero, neurotypical, completely able-bodied people. A lot of "cool and suave" traits are actually pretty asshole-ish behavior repackaged as "cool." Let's be real. Most of the traits that are deemed "cool" in the average show, especially between 1970-2016, belong to characters I wouldn't want to hang out with.

Characters with actual flaws, relatable special interests and realistic, human moments, are more fun than Cool McCool Man the Hero.