I don't feel the need to really add a whole lot about myself, because this is literally just a side blog for my ocs, sooo I guess if you wanna learn more about me, read the intro post on my main blog.
The DNI list in my pinned post there applies here as well.
My main fandoms I make/have ocs for are The Outsiders, Dead Poets Society, and The Karate Kid. This might change, however, as I have ADHD and my hyperfixations sometimes go into hibernation while I obsess over something else LOL
Get ready for INTENSE yapping about my sillies on here
OC Masterlist
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+**+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Zach Okumura (Original)
———
Zombie Apocalypse
Max Trent
The Party
———
Red Dead Redemption 2
Jesse Barlow
Cassidy McGraw
Boone Hayes
Clay Sawyer
Billy Norman
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The Outsiders
Freddy Carver
Danny Carver
Rosie Carver
Ronnie Edwards
Charlie Grayson
Sergei Volkov and Mickey Volkov (they're twins)
Henry Worthing
Val Bruno
Malcolm Brentwood
Hickory Curtis
Judith Grant
Griffin Conroy
Patrick Rigby
Jeremy Cooper
Lauren Richards
Nash Riley
Leslie Atwood
Marilyn Phillips
Arthur Phillips
———
Grease
Dolly Vernon
Tony Bukowski
———
Dead Poets Society
Eddie Roswell
Beau Howard
Edith Campbell
Jasper 'Screwball' Kenneth
Cassandra Dennis
Bobby Warren
Jolene Carlock
Scottie Conroy
Houston James
Theodore Hastings
———
The Karate Kid
Jason Murphy
Ricky Carlisle
Kenny Lawrence
Angela Murphy
———
Heathers
Johnny Booker
Robin Carter
Henry Chandler
Ethan Wilcox
Mark Andrews
———
Outer Banks
Aaron Wilson
Charlie Owens
Bowie Cooper
———
Newsies (1992 mainly)
Ace Matthews
Tweety Delaney
Willie Delaney
Sammy Jacobs
———
High School Musical
Connor Bolton
Robin Kelly
———
IT
Boxer Denver
Lorelei Collins
The Denver Gang
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Stranger Things (I'VE LEFT THE FANDOM, THESE OCS ARE ABANDONED.)
age: 9teen
status: soc
nicknames: art (general, but only a select few people are allowed), artie (his sister)
gender + pronouns: male (he/him)
sexuality: gay + demiaroace
mbti: intj
d.o.b.: september 14th (virgo)
faceclaim: hudson williams
“I was always scared of Arthur Phillips, but not in the way that I was of most soc guys around his age. No, he just had this way of looking at you that made you shift where you stood. Real intense and serious. I don’t think I ever saw him crack a smile. And if he did, I bet whoever got him to do it felt real proud. He always had his nose in a book too. On the rare occasion he wasn’t at home, he was at the library. That’s actually how I met him. Everyone in town knew he was probably going to go to some big fancy college and be a lawyer or a doctor, something important that actually mattered. He certainly had the brains for it, he graduated valedictorian. He always made it seem like he didn’t care about people whispering behind his back, but I think he did. He always got real tense and quiet when he overheard them. I feel bad for him, but he’d get angry about anyone pitying him.”
Arthur Phillips was born out of a romance between Andrew, a young man with more money than he would ever spend studying abroad in Korea and Myong, a girl who just so happened to catch his eye. They were young, and just barely out of their teens, only twenty. He stayed with her until he had to leave shortly after Art was born, but he came back a year later to bring them to the States.
Art spent the first year of his life in a small house in the countryside of what later became South Korea. He didn’t remember a lot, but he remembered how calming his mother’s lullabies were and that he never wanted to be apart from her. That attachment honestly carried on throughout his life. One could even say he was a bit of a mama’s boy.
Art was also a very quiet boy, keeping himself closed up in the home library and talking only when spoken to. His grades were always something his father boasted about whenever he could. He was Ivy League-bound by the time he was in his junior year, and now that he’s graduated top of his class, everyone is just waiting to hear of his acceptance letter from Harvard or Yale or Princeton.
But here’s the thing: A part of Art is scared to leave. Because if he’s not here, who will be there for Lynnie? She may have friends of her own now but there’s hardly anybody in town that understands her struggles like he does.
Or, maybe, the truth is something a lot more damaging to Art’s pride.
And that truth is that maybe Art needs Lynnie more than she needs him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Marilyn Phillips with a frown on her porcelain-looking face, and I don’t think anyone ever will. Everyone called her Lynnie, and she was the kind of girl you thought you could only dream of. She never seemed all too interested in boys though.. Still, she stuck out in a crowd nonetheless, for more reasons than just being awful pretty. Her and her brother were a hot topic for the older-fashioned folks in Tulsa, because their father was white, and whoever their mother was clearly wasn’t. He claimed they were adopted, but people still talked. I always felt bad for them, if I’m being honest. They got treated differently than other soc kids because of it too. It made Lynnie a little kinder to us greasers, though. Maybe because she knew how it felt to get treated bad because of something you can’t control.”
Marilyn Phillips was born to two people who crossed paths during a difficult time in their lives and, while they were at it, societal lines. Her father came from money and her mother from a long line of farmers. They fell in love despite the odds, and moved to America shortly before Lynnie was born. They managed to get away with the lie that he had adopted her and her older brother, Arthur, while he was on business abroad, and their mother was simply a maid that lived at the family home. Their marriage wasn’t official, but only in the eyes of the law. When no eyes were on them, they were actually quite a lovely family.
Unlike her older brother, Lynnie didn’t have a clue about growing up in South Korea, leaving her feeling rather distant from that part of herself. So instead, she did ballet and went horseback riding, hoping to gain the approval of her white peers. She made a few friends, but they were still outnumbered by the people who gave her sideways looks in the halls and whispered about her when they thought she couldn’t hear.
But she heard. Much more than she would have liked. Nevertheless, she tried her hardest to fit in, tried to dress and talk like everyone around her. But it hardly worked. She still looked different, and that would never be changed. She accepted that years ago.
So, she threw herself into her hobbies and school. She got good grades, danced with the grace of a professional in her ballet recitals, and did competitions with her horse, Archibald, but thanks to Lynnie he only responded to Archie (she named him after the Archie comics). It worked most of the time, but then someone would notice what she looked like under her riding helmet, and she would just snap her head down to look at Archie’s neck for the rest of the time.
She may have grown up with a soc’s lifestyle, but she still suffered the jeerings of an outsider.
age: 9teen
status: soc (upper middle class technically, but he lives on the west side most of the time)
nicknames: les, jukebox king (this will make sense later I SWEAR-)
gender + pronouns: male (he/him)
sexuality: achillean
mbti: isfp
faceclaim: adam brody
“Leslie Atwood is something of a local celebrity in Tulsa. He's one of the most popular radio hosts in town, and he isn't even twenty yet, first of all. That's something I could never even *dream* of happening to me. Oh, and he’s also really good at sculpting. Darry went to school with him, and he said he blew everyone out of the water in art class, especially the ceramics unit. He sometimes sells his sculptures when he needs money, and he gets quite a bit for them too, most of the time. But the radio thing is what he’s *most* well known for. See, I listen to him quite a lot myself, me and Soda both, and sometimes even Darry will eavesdrop while he’s making breakfast. Even if we don’t like the music that’s playing, we stay on the station to listen to him talk after. He’s just that damn entertaining. When you meet him in person, however, he's actually kind of shy. You would never put two and two together until he actually talks and you realize he sounds *really* similar to the popular disc jockey Jukebox King. You’ll usually find him at the coffee shop in town, he seems to be there *a lot*.. Darry says I’ll *never* be allowed to drink that much coffee, but he’s just being a hypocrite when he says that. Leslie isn’t stuck up like the socs, maybe because he technically isn’t even a soc at all. He just lives on the West side. I really do wish there were more people in Tulsa like Leslie, if I’m being honest.”
Leslie Atwood was born on the West side of Tulsa, Oklahoma to two parents who honestly loved him more than they loved each other. His childhood was relatively happy, considering he lived on the ‘good’ side of town and his parents weren’t cruel to him in any way. His mother taught him her love for pottery, and eventually it evolved into a love for sculpting in general. Everything in his life was pretty much perfect.
Until his parents sat him down at twelve years old and told him they were getting a divorce, that is.
Leslie wasn’t angry about it. But he was still rather shocked. His mother assured him they wouldn’t stop being a family, and his father promised that he won’t be forced to choose between them. And he didn’t have to, his parents ended up getting split custody just like they promised him, and they remained civil with each other during the entire divorce process. Things have been pretty normal on that front ever since then. His mother is seeing a new man, and his father has a girlfriend he’s thinking of proposing to.
Then, in high school, he got a radio from his dad for his 15th birthday. And its safe to say he fell in love with it. He loved listening to the radio hosts talk, tell jokes and play music. He eventually set himself up a makeshift studio in his bedroom closet at his dad’s house, and thats how the famous persona of the Jukebox King was born. The rest, as they say, is history. Now he has his own recording room in the radio station in town. This radio host gig is so important to him he actually took a gap year for college to spend more time doing it.
That isn’t to say there aren’t issues he’s dealing with in his personal life, however. Ever somce his parents’ divorce, Leslie has had trouble staying in romantic relationships. And just getting into them at all, as a matter of fact. Knowing that the love can just.. Not exist anymore? That terrified him. And now he refuses to let himself get too serious with someone. It wasn’t out of a desire to break a heart, but out of a fear of losing someone important to him just because they didn’t work out as a couple.
But he covers that all up disturbingly well.
Because then he’ll just get behind the mic, put on his headphones, and become the Jukebox King.
age: 6teen (time of the crash/s1) | 7teen (s2) | 8teen (s3/time of rescue) | forty3 (adult timeline)
nicknames: holls, angel voice
gender + prounouns: female (she/her)
sexuality: pansexual
mbti: enfp
d.o.b.: july 15th (cancer)
faceclaim: alicia silverstone
“Oh, Holly.. She was always a really sweet girl. She was so kind and generous it made you want to cry. I liked her, but then again, everyone did. She was in the choir, and you could always hear her humming in the locker room. She wasn’t the fastest or the strongest player, but she always tried her best and you could tell. Even if she had the ball and could easily score a goal on her own, she’d pass it to someone who clearly wanted it more than her. That’s the Holly Dennison we all knew. Put everyone before herself, always.
..And then the crash happened.
God.. Holly was too gentle to be out there around all of that death and struggle. That wasn’t where she belonged. She was honestly our beacon of hope after Jackie died.
But the Wilderness got to her, eventually. Just like It got to all the rest of us.”
Holly Dennison was born to two loving parents in Wiskayok, New Jersey. Her life was pretty much picturesque. Nice house, good grades, fairly popular. Not to mention she was beautiful. She practically had guys tripping over themselves trying to ask her out, but she never paid it any mind. Boys were never something that mattered to her a whole lot anyway.
She played on the Yellowjackets soccer team because she liked being a part of something. Sure, she did her best to do her part as a teammate, but it was never about winning. Everyone who had ever known her knew her to be generous, helping whenever she was needed. She wanted to go to a performing arts school after high school, with hopes of being a professional singer someday.
Then the crash in the Wilderness happened.
At first, Jackie and Holly were the only people keeping the others from going crazy. Jackie did her best as a leader, and Holly provided emotional support to as many people as she could.
Then Laura Lee died in the plane explosion. And Jackie froze to death. And the bodies just kept piling up after that.
That was when Holly started to harden.
She never stopped being kind, though. Even after Shauna got angry at her and scarred her face so bad that it was a miracle she didn’t lose an eye. Even after the cabin fire singed off a chunk of her hair, forcing her to chop most of it off, and left a severe burn mark on the side of her neck her shoulder.
Her kindness never wavered. And she wouldn’t allow it to.
age: 8teen (s1) | 9teen (s2) | twenty (s3) | twenty1 (s4) | twenty2 (s5)
status: pogue, but only by association (he stays out of the pogue/kook conflict)
nicknames: coop, sunshine boy, blondie
gender + pronouns: demiboy, he/they (prefers he/him, but the occasional they/them is nice too)
sexuality: pansexual
mbti: esfp
d.o.b.: june 12th (gemini)
faceclaim: chad michael murray
“Bowie Cooper. The happiest guy on the planet and the best surfer the Outer Banks has ever seen. Don’t tell JJ I said that, though. He showed up one day two years ago, and he’s been pretty much a local celebrity ever since. He might actually be the coolest person I’ve ever met in my entire life. He works at the Conch Shop, a surf shop that his uncle Miles owns down by the beach which always seems to be crawling with Tour-ons, and he practically lives in his van. I think he *does* live in that van, actually, now that I think about it.. Anyways, he’s also friends with almost everyone on the island. And I mean *everyone*. I swear I once saw him crack a joke to Rafe *freaking Cameron*, and the guy *smiled*! Rafe Cameron! Smiling! The others don’t believe me, but I know what I saw!
And that’s.. About it. Yeah, despite pretty much everyone knowing him, nobody on the island knows much about Bowie other than what I just told you. Where he’s originally from, why he came to the OBX of all places, *nothing*. And if you try and ask him about where he came from, or where his parents are, that perpetual smile of his kind of.. flickers away for a second and he’ll change the subject so fast it’ll make your head spin. If you ask me, he’s running from something. But whatever that thing is exactly, its between God and Bowie.”
No one knows where Bowie Cooper came from originally. He just showed up one day on the island of Kildare, a shaggy-haired 16 year old with a worn surfboard and a van, who refused to tell anyone, even the police department, where his parents were. He sleeps in his van, usually parking it near the beach so he can see the sun rise over the ocean if he wakes up early enough, and eats his meals at his uncle Miles’s house. Though, the truth is, Miles isn’t his uncle. He was a family friend that knew about Bowie’s past and pitied the poor kid when he came knocking on his front door one day, offering him a place to live (read: a place to park his van sometimes and have three square meals a day for free, so long as he help out at the surf shop, which Bowie was happy to do.)
The truth about Bowie Cooper is this: He was born to two loving parents in San Francisco, California, who taught him how to surf as soon as he was able to walk, and he took to it like a fish to water. His life after that was pretty much sunshine, sea salt, ocean waves and constant adventure and after that.
Well, until the accident.
Bowie’s parents were killed in a car accident when he was only twelve years old. Legally, he was left in the care of his aunt and uncle after that. Though, they didn’t get along. At all. They hated how he inherited his father’s spontaneous and uncontrollable nature, and he hated how they constantly kept him on a leash. So one day, when he was sixteen years old, he packed a bag, took his van that he found in a junkyard and fixed up with friend, and drove all the way to South Carolina and took the ferry over to Kildare to beg a longtime friend of his late father, Miles Buckley, for help. Miles, of course, took the boy in, and has treated him as if he were his own ever since.
Now he’s “living with” his ‘uncle’ Miles, working at his surf shop, and surfing every day and chatting up the Tour-ons and every person he runs into.
But, deep down, that smile is just a mask. Sure, usually its very much genuine, but if you squint, you’ll notice that it doesn’t reach his eyes a hundred percent of the time. That’s because, at the end of the day, Bowie still lost his parents. Two people who he pretty much aspired to be like when he grew up.
And that’s a pain no smile could ever even hope to diminish or cover up
heyyy guys, so I’ve got THREE oc bios on the way. One is fairly new (I came up with him YESTERDAY), so I’m making his bio right now and he’ll probably be posted later today. The other two have been rotting in my drafts since fucking APRIL, so I’ve got them queued up to be posted soon. But yeah, You guys are going to be FED today lol
Stevie was walking out the drive ins after just bumming around and watching some beach movie she snuck into. She wasn’t watching where she was going and walked into someone, she looked up ready to snap even though it was her fault but smiled instantly seeing the face.
“Jesus Danny! Watch where ur going” she grinned like she hadn’t just walked into him. “U seeing a movie now?… or doing nothing” she questioned while taking a step back.
-@steviehart
Hey so I actually don’t do rps on this blog sorry😭 This is just where I post my bios and stuff..
BUT I DO HAVE A RP BLOG FOR DANNY!!! Its @danny-phantom-boy :)
age: 7teen (going on 8teen)
nicknames: theo, teddy
gender + pronouns: male (he/him)
sexuality: straight
mbti: isfp
d.o.b.: february 18th (aquarius)
faceclaim: jude law
“Theo is a pretty interesting person, to say the least. I mean, the guy could do virtually anything in the world he wanted solely because of his last name. I can imagine opportunities practically throw themselves at him at the sound of his last name. If I had money like that I don’t even know what I’d do with it, but he doesn’t even care about it at all! All he wants to do is sail around in his sailboat and read books all day. And then there’s his personality. You’d think a kid as rich and well-off as him would rub it in your face every chance he gets, but he barely ever talks about his family’s money. In fact, he *hates* talking about money. He’d rather talk about poetry or art or all the different places in the world he wants to visit. He’s also kind. He’s very kind. He’s the type to go over to the new kid in class and sit with them, then not leave their side the whole day to silently tell them they had a friend in him. So yeah, I like Theodore Hastings. He’s a good guy, I’d be crazy not to.”
Theodore Hastings (the second, actually) was born into the nth generation of an old money family that practically used dollar bills as handkerchiefs. However, the only things he really liked about being part of the high society he was born into were his sailboat, his family’s library that was practically just for show most of the time, and the household staff that felt more like his family than the parents that gave him life (who practically felt like strangers he had to live with)
His sailboat in particular was something he held very dear to him. Before coming to Welton, he spent almost all of his time on the Marianna (he didn’t name the boat after anyone in particular, he just thought Marianna was a pretty name for a boat). At Welton, he may not have his beloved sailboat, but he joined the rowing team shortly after being enrolled, and he likes it so far. He’s often found by the lake on campus, sitting on the dock with a book. He once tried to go swimming in it, but he got caught and obviously got in trouble, but his father threatened to stop donating to the school if his son were expelled, so he got to stay. That doesn’t mean he stopped swimming in the lake, though.
However, despite having everything in his life handed to him on a silver platter, it never sat right with him. It made him sad whenever he saw families barely able to make ends meet, having to live paycheck to paycheck. He wanted to help, in some sort of way, any way, but every time he told his father about it, the man just scoffed and told his son to stop worrying about things that don’t matter and start focusing on getting ready to join the family business. But he couldn’t do that. Not with a heart so big, and a sense of empathy so strong. He may not understand the struggle of growing up without money to spare, but he always tries his best to understand anyway. Even if, on occasion, his privileged upbringing makes him seem oblivious to another’s struggles.
So, no matter much his father rolls his eyes or his mother scoffs at the idea of their son spending his time doing volunteer work, or his teachers constantly praise his father instead of him, he won’t be shaken from his goal: Make the world a better place.
He’s never going to stop caring. He just can’t do it.
age: 8teen (going on 9teen)
status: greaser (technically, he could care less about the social divide)
nicknames: cowpoke (other rodeo jockeys), bronco boy (buck), nashville (his dad, when he was alive + people he deems close friends)
gender + pronouns: male (he/him)
sexuality: bisexual (doesn't plan on ever addressing it, he doesn't gaf)
mbti: istp
d.o.b.: august 30th (virgo)
faceclaim: mike faist
“Nash Riley is a living, walking enigma. Everyone in Tulsa simultaneously knows him and doesn’t know him. His house burning down about ten years ago was all the town could talk about, and everyone at the church said him surviving was a miracle by God Himself. Some of the kids whisper in their classrooms when the teacher isn’t looking that he’s a zombie. Because the rumor is that when his house burned down, his heart stopped beating for a whole minute before he got resuscitated. But, again, thats just a rumor. It is based partially in truth though. Nash *did* survive a house fire when he was only nine years old. Unfortunately, the fire took his parents and left him and his four year old brother Mason, who I sit next to in English, orphans. I haven’t seen them myself, but apparently he’s got some nasty burn scars from the whole ordeal all on his arms, back and shoulders, and a couple on his chest too . Soda’s seen them, even asks Darry to pick up some ointment for him at the drug store so he can run it by the stables on the outskirts of town for him. He knows Soda (and Steve) from the rodeos, and I’ll be honest, he’s probably one of the best cowboys in Tulsa in my opinion. He’s actually our reigning calf roping champion. I know that doesn’t sound as impressive as bronco riding or bull riding (the latter he’s pretty good at too), but if you saw how quick he can tie up those calfs, you’d be humming a different tune.”
Nash Riley actually had a pretty good life when he was very little. His daddy never hit him, his momma loved him, and him and his little brother Mason were always thick as thieves. Him and his dad and little brother would wrestle on the couch, and he’d play cowboys with the kids that lived down the street, with him being the sheriff and Mason being his deputy. Everything was great. His family never had a lot of money, living on the East side of Tulsa in a house that was a bit rundown, but Nash wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Then the fire happened. And royally screwed up Nash’s entire life.
The combined tragedy of their house not having the most well kept gas lines (his parents should have known with a low price like that when they first bought it) and it being a wooden house ripped Nash’s parents and childhood innocence from his hands in a fiery blaze all in a single night. Mason almost died too from a piece of the roof nearly falling on him in their shared bedroom, but Nash threw himself on top of him, protecting him. Not without agonizing pain, obviously. Even Nash couldn’t tell you how the hell he survived. He doesn’t even remember the first hour after it happened, if he had to be honest.. After all of that hell, the state moved him and his brother in with their grandparents. Nash never liked how after the fire people treated him like he was made out of glass. He was a tough kid, and he quite literally had the scars to prove it.
He moved out of his grandparents’ house as soon as he turned eighteen, not wanting to feel like a burden anymore (even though he never was, not in their eyes), and he worked a few odd jobs around town and became a rodeo jockey for the cash prizes. Which he won almost every time. His daddy taught him everything he knew about horses and cattle (his father owned a small farm on the outskirts of town, but he wanted a bigger ranch out in Texas someday) and he used that to his advantage. He drank and smoked like he was twenty years older than he actually was, and you wouldn’t be in the wrong for assuming he was in his late twenties or early thirties, not in his late teens. He just had an air about him that made him seem wise beyond his years. And sometimes that wasn’t a good thing.
He also had a bad habit of keeping people out. No matter how much someone tried to break through his thousands of emotional walls, he just wouldn’t let them in, which only made him blow up at them and ruin things between them, no matter how well things were going. He ruined every good thing he touched, at least in his eyes. Maybe thats why he keeps his distance from Mason, the only good thing in his life. He doesn’t want to ruin him too. He’d never forgive himself for that.
Nash won’t tell anyone, but what plagues him the most are the nightmares. The smell of gasoline and smoke that fill his nose, the muffled sounds of his parents burning alive in their bedroom down the hall, and the sobs of his baby brother. And then he wakes up in a cold sweat, chest heaving, shoulders shaking and fighting tears.
Nash has a lot of things haunting him. But the ghost that is his past seems to be one that refuses to pass on.
age: 6teen (s2/introduction) | 7teen (s3) | 8teen (s4) | 9teen (s5)
nicknames: wes (general), tanner (teammates), tan (teammates he’s actually friends with), darling (houston, only in private)
gender + pronouns: male (he/him)
sexuality: bisexual (closeted)
mbti: esfp
d.o.b.: october 19th (libra)
faceclaim: chase stokes
"Any girl with a brain wants to date Wesley Tanner. He’s one of the football guys, and that might make you think he's one of those stereotypical meathead jocks that shove geeks into lockers and whatnot but.. No. Not Wesley. Never Wesley. God, just the thought of that makes my skin crawl.. Its unnatural. After all, he’s always been so nice. Even though he’s only been here about five years, he’s gotten a reputation for being a massive sweetheart to everyone he talks to. Thats not all he’s known for though. He’s also probably one of the best football players we have here at Hawkins High. Last year, he actually took us all the way to the state championship. And we won! He may not have the best grades (he’s honestly kind of an airhead at times, but he’s got a good heart), but he wins football games and makes the school’s athletics program look really good, so no one cares. But he makes up for it by being a massive sweetheart. Its no wonder he’s so popular with girls. And yet.. He hasn’t been playing them an ounce of attention lately.. If you ask me, its because he’s got his eyes on some girl. Whoever she is, she’s real lucky, I hope she knows that.”
Wes Tanner actually wasn’t born in Hawkins, Indiana. He was born in San Francisco, California and practically grew up watching football games on TV with his father, cheering on the San Francisco 49ers. He had posters of athletes all over his bedroom walls and he even had figurines on his shelves, and was always practicing out in the yard with his dad. The only sport he loved as much as football was baseball. Him and his uncle were huge San Francisco Giants fan, and the two of them went to their games all the time. However, he secretly was also quite obsessed with the Los Angeles Dodgers, and he even got a signed baseball at one of the two games of theirs that he’d ever been to, thanks to his uncle, and it remains one of his most prized possessions to this day.
But he loved the beach more than football or baseball. Playing in the water with his cousins, playing football with his older male relatives, building sandcastles while his mom watched from her chair. He loved every minute of it. His favorite part of it all though? It was when it got late. Sitting in the sand in the evening, watching the sun go down over the horizon as the waves washed up to his toes and only snapping out of his little trance to scurry to his feet because it was almost dinnertime.
Then his dad got a job offering in Indiana. And he had lost his job a week prior, so they needed the money terribly. So they moved all three, his parents and ten year old Wes, moved to Hawkins, Indiana.
Despite how dry everything was and the lack of constant sunshine, Wes actually adjusted better than either of his parents thought he would. Wes had always been a very social child, growing up around several of his cousins (his family was a very tight knit one), so it honestly wasn’t all that surprising that he didn’t struggle too much to make new friends. Did he still miss home? Of course he did. But he had new friends to keep him company.
When he got to high school, though, things got more complicated. His dad made him stop playing baseball so he could focus on football, and just in general stayed more on top of him about how he was playing. It pretty much became almost all his dad seemed to want to talk about with him. Worst of all, his parents had split when he was twelve, so his mom moved back to San Francisco. Wes’s stepmom (well, his dad’s girlfriend) could’ve cared less about spending time with her boyfriend’s son, and the feeling was pretty mutual with Wes. Which was why Wes spent as much time outside of his house as he could. And it didn’t help that he sometimes felt his eyes wander in the locker room whenever coach told him and his teammates to hit the showers. And then in sophomore year, he finally decided to hell with it and stayed after practice Mark Trenton, who apparently was experiencing the same problem.. Oh God, his dad would kill him if he found out about Mark, even if it was just a one-time thing..
But in the meantime, he was going to pretend everything was completely 100% fine. Because thats what people expected from him. He’s Wesley Tanner, the beacon of hope at Hawkins High. Every girl’s dream boyfriend and the envy of every guy in school.
And nobody ever suspected a thing..
Well.. Until Houston McGraw came along. With that cowboy hat and ridiculously sexy accent with his stupidly attractive face.