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bffsoobin · 4 years

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fond

➤idol!yeonjun x non!idol reader, pure fluffy goodness, yeonjun gets teased a lot lmao

↳yeonjun has always been a hard worker; reaching above and beyond the expectations of every person he’d even met and even himself. There was only one part of his life he knew was impossible to better--you. In Yeonjun’s eyes, you’d never been anything less than perfect from the day he met you. He never lets you forget it either, even if everyone else was beyond tired of hearing it.

Word Count: 1,501

Requested: yes!

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, very small sprinkle of angst (self-doubt in reader)

A/N: I wrote this super fast so it may not be my best work but it felt really good to get something out and posted again! Love you all, hope you had a happy holiday!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

“Are you sure they want me to come?” You asked, shifting anxiously on the balls of your feet. “I mean, it seems like a thing reserved for just the five of you- celebrating the album- and none of the other guys have significant others to bring.” Yeonjun stopped in his tracks, leaving his shirt halfway buttoned up. Gently, he ran his warm hands up and down your arms. The sun had begun to set at some point while you were getting ready, and the light cascading in through the window opposite you washed Yeonjun in a golden ring of light.

You were so distracted by the sight that you almost missed the words coming out of his mouth.

“Baby, the guys love you. And they want you to be there. I promise. I wouldn’t ask you to come if it weren’t true. Hell, I wouldn’t even be going myself if it weren’t true. I’d much rather stay here with you and cuddle.” Your heart softened at his reassurance, anxiety bubbling away from your bloodstream in a few instants. Humming happily, you crushed Yeonjun into a hug that felt as if it could meld your bodies together.

Yeonjun lead you into the reserved restaurant with his fingers linked between yours with such fervor he might as well have glued your palms together. For that you were grateful though, because the party which you’d expected to be just the other boys and a few staff ended up being much more expansive. You spotted several important producers and a few other idols who had the time in their schedule to come and celebrate with their friends. The thrum of your heart kicked up tenfold as Yeonjun lead you through the crowds, eyes turning to him and his head of bright pink hair immediately. Damn him for always being the man of the hour. The two of you had almost made it to the safety of his table; so close in fact that you saw Soobin waving at you enthusiastically and pointing at a pair of empty seats saved by jackets and hats. Mere feet away, Yeonjun was stopped in his tracks by someone you only recognized vaguely, but knew instantly was of importance. The man was tall, handsome and well dressed, balancing a bottle of beer between his fingers with practiced ease.

As the two of them chatted about the album and general comeback procedures, you felt yourself becoming more and more out of place. For Yeonjun’s sake you plastered on a gentle smile, nodding along to whatever words were being exchanged between the two of them.

“...her name?” You caught the tail end of the sentence just in time to see that the man was gazing down at you. You glanced between him and Yeonjun, trying to collect any information as to why you were being addressed.

“I’m Y/N,” you offered carefully, not sure how they’d arrived at this topic. Yeonjun squeezed your hand reassuringly, running his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Well, I had no idea that Yeonjun had a girlfriend,” the man simpered. “What exactly do you do?” The implication of his words hit you like a MAC truck. What did you do? What did you do to deserve to be here, rubbing elbows with these famed people?

“She’s a student, actually! She’s always busy with school work or research.” Yeonjun cut in, voice rising protectively. “She pretends it isn’t a big deal, but she’s pretty high up in her department, got all the professors to love her. And she’s on track for a really cool internship- right baby?” He shot the conversation back to you, attempting to ease the tears crawling up your throat.

“Oh, it’s not that big of deal, I don’t know if I got it yet, so-”

“Shush, it’s amazing. And there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re the most qualified person for the position. You’re amazing,” Yeonjun beamed down at you warmly, a blush cropping up along your cheeks as you fought the urge to cover your face. Yeonjun quickly exchanged his goodbyes with the man and lead you finally to the table where you could take a deep breath. As soon as you settled into the chair next to Soobin, Yeonjun began to apologize in a hushed voice.

“I’m so sorry, I really didn’t think that he would say anything like that. You know that you’re amazing, though, right? I don’t want you to ever believe that I’m not proud of you, or you aren’t amazing because you aren’t an idol. I love how hard you work at school, I love that you aren’t busy with all the stupid idol things that I have to do. You’re such a positive light in my life, such an amazing person. I’m so happy that I know you. Seriously, I can’t imagine not knowing you. You know I love you, right? So much.” Your heart swelled, pumping so rapidly that it felt like it might fall out of your chest. All of the tension you’d felt during the conversation was completely gone, replaced by a pleasant buzz of happiness that only Yeonjun could provide you with. Despite the business within the restaurant, it felt as if you were in your own little bubble with Yeonjun alone, focused only on the gentle cadence of his voice and the steady heat radiating off of his body. His eyes were soft and round even under the concentrated eye makeup you’d helped him apply before leaving your apartment as he watched you carefully.

“I know, and I love you too,” a smile split your face before you could stop it, straining the muscles in your cheeks until they stung.

“Trust me, Y/N. We all know.” Taehyun laughed, causing the other three to nod in agreement.

“Seriously, he literally talks about how much he loves you all the time. Sometimes even in his sleep he’s asking where you are-”

“Hey! Stop it, you little-” Yeonjun growled, sending a menacing look toward Taehyun.

“No! Keep it coming, tell me more,” happy to encourage the teasing of your boyfriend, you leaned back in your chair and picked at the shared plate of fries that had appeared in the middle of the table at some moment.

“Oh, there was that one time we were in the studio and we couldn’t find him anywhere, like we even sent managers out to find him and everything and it turned out he got caught up talking with some random lady outside about you because he saw her carrying a bag you’d like.” Beomgyu offered, eyes sparkling at the chance to make fun of Yeonjun freely.

“Or the time when we were trying to film an episode of TO DO and he kept checking his phone because he was waiting for you to send a good morning text. The stylists were so mad that he refused to take his phone out of his pocket and they had to give him a top that would cover them.” Soobin jumped in this time, grinning just as wide as you were at the realization that Yeonjun was much more whipped for you than you’d ever estimated.

“And lets not forget literally any time we have extra time at the dorm and want to watch a movie or play a game. He literally always asks if he can invite you. At one point it was like nine days straight and when we said we’d rather not have a guest he pouted in his room instead of playing with us.” Your eyes grew wide with recognition at the story, as you remembered the exact time Soobin was referring to. You had, quite honestly, grown tired of visiting the dorm every single night after class but you did it anyway for the sake of spending time with Yeonjun.

“Did you guys know that he came to my apartment that night and complained that you were being mean to him?” Yeonjun whined loudly at your words, burying his flaming face into his own hands and letting out a defeated groan. He knew it was all true, and he was no stranger to admitting his attachment to you, but hearing it all at once made him shy.

“It’s okay, Junnie. You know I love how whipped you are for me,” you teased, rubbing the nape of his neck with delicate fingers in an attempt to get his head off of the table.

“I am not whipped!” He protests, sitting back up and trying his best to glare at you and his members. His face was still tinged with red, evidence of being caught in a lie.

‘If you’re not whipped, then what would you call it, hyung?” Hueningkai questioned, taking a poignant sip of his drink all while keeping his gaze locked onto Yeonjun. The entire table, sans Yeonjun, snickered together as he opened and closed his mouth in quick succession, trying to find the right words.

“I’m not whipped. I’m just...fond.”

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jared-19-cant-reid · 4 years

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A Study In Behavior: Chapter 1

A Study In Behavior (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Obsession

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.8K

Series Summary: When you signed up for Professor Reid’s class, you were expecting a low effort but interesting class to fill your psychology elective credit. Instead, your fascination with the professor leaves you spending more time than you’d expected in office hours.

Chapter Summary: A strange dream and an unusual professor make today’s lecture much more interesting than you thought it would be.

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, cursing, mentions of anxiety, suggestive language, implied age gap.

A/N: I’m planning on making this an eventual smut slow burn, since this is one of my favorite tropes and I want to make it a Realistic daydream lmao. This chapter is focused on introducing you to the world, reader, and this version of Spencer. Lots of potential here, I already have a million different ideas of how this should go... as always dms and asks are open!

The pattering of rain on the tin roof seemed to crescendo, a million drummers tapping out a perpetual drumroll on steel drums above your head. You’d always complained you couldn’t hear yourself think with all that noise, but you missed it despite yourself when you left Seattle for college. You were pulled away from that brief moment of self awareness by the touch of a cold hand, clutching yours as if you might be snatched away at any moment if the grip were to loosen.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a bed you knew all too well. A bed you’d spent too many hours in, slept too many nights in, and yet was not your own. Turning your head to the right, you took in the sight of your sleeping mother, her expression of serenity contradicted by the deep creases in her face, betraying the frown that she wore most of her waking life. Your gaze trailed down to your hand in hers; her knuckles were turning white from her tight grip, but you didn’t feel any pain.

Laying next to her, you watched her face for what felt like hours as her chest rose and fell in the lazy patterns of slumber, too afraid of waking her with your movement to breathe. She almost looked happy like this. Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud beeping sound. You looked around for the offending fire alarm, but as you scanned the ceiling it began to dissolve before your eyes, the grip on your hand loosening until you broke free from the scene fully.

You opened your eyes with a start as you sat up quickly, feeling out of place in your own room. You were a painting placed in the wrong section of a museum, an unintentional imposter. Nails digging into your comforter, you tried in vain to slow your shallow breaths as you looked around wildly for something to remind you of where you were, of who you were.

Your eyes skipped from your stack of records from your childhood leaning casually against the wall beside the record player on your desk, to the stacks of books watching over you from the top of your bookshelf, unable to fit on the shelves but too close to your heart to part with. Your gaze finally settled on the floor, taking in the mess you’d been meaning to clean up for days now.

As you returned to your body, you could no longer ignore the blaring of your alarm, groaning as you reached for your phone on the nightstand. A glance at the screen had you shooting out of bed. Shit, I have to be at class in 20 minutes. You got up, muttering to yourself about how 8 A.M. classes should be considered cruel and unusual punishment, and maneuvered around your clothes strewn across the floor.

As you raced to your closet, your eyes scanned the clothes you owned, speeding through mental images of a million combinations before giving up and reaching for your comfort clothes. You pulled on the green high waisted cargo pants that you’d owned since high school. Nobody to impress in this class anyway, you reasoned, grabbing the fitted white crop top that your friend had embroidered your name on.

You tore through the apartment in the most violent and rushed performance of a morning routine the world had ever seen, only half trying to keep quiet for the sake of your neighbors. Hair tangled between your fingers and makeup was swiped on haphazardly as you struggled to make yourself presentable, cursing at the time and throwing random belongings in your bag.

Calling out a goodbye to your roommate only to be met with silence, you realized that in your frenzy you had forgotten that no sane college student would willingly be up at this hour. Shaking your head as you rushed out of your building, you mused that you’d just gotten all your stupid mistakes for today over with quite efficiently.

Three years of mediocre dorm experiences had left you desperate for a change, and luckily your now-roommate Jordan volunteered to split the rent for the 2 bedroom you now called home. You’d both agreed to ignore whatever ghost stories scared off previous residents and earned you a fair price for a decent place close to campus; ghosts would just add a little intrigue to your domestic life, you’d joked.

Checking the time once more, you cursed under your breath and broke out into a run. God, I should work out more, you thought as your lungs began to burn, I wouldn’t stand a chance in a zombie apocalypse. Racing through campus, you finally reached the doors of the lecture hall that held your class… which had started three minutes prior. You tried to catch your breath before opening the door, cringing as you heard the professor pause mid-lecture.

You tried not to meet anyone’s gaze as you quickly made your way to a seat. The first one you could find was in the third row-- close enough to the front to make out the facial expressions of your professor, who had continued his train of thought after you entered, choosing to ignore you in favor of finishing his idea.

As you got settled and tuned into the lecture, you realized the professor was still reviewing the syllabus. Pulling it up on your laptop, you looked at the top to remind yourself of his name: Dr. Spencer Reid. Finally looking up, your mind went blank. Oh. Not only was your professor way younger than you’d expected, he was... well, attractive. Thats’s a reasonable objective assessment, right? You knew he was just as knowledgeable as older professors-- you’d chosen this course for its fantastic reviews from previous students-- but his youth was a welcome change from the dinosaurs you were so used to in the neuroscience department.

As you studied him, you only became more sure in your original assessment; he was tall, with tousled brunet hair and a face that was… well, unfair. You weren’t surprised to catch a few other girls unabashedly staring at him, clearly drooling over the man as he spoke animatedly about his favorite parts of the course.

You shook yourself-- this man was your professor. You shouldn’t think about how attractive he is, it’s unprofessional. You also shouldn’t look at his hands the way you are right now, following them as he gestured along with his words you still weren’t paying attention to. You definitely shouldn’t think about what those hands could do.

Oh my god, snap out of it, you reprimanded yourself, you can’t afford to spend the semester fantasizing about your professor, focus on the class! You finally tuned in to the lecture, catching the end of what sounded like a tangent about the difference between triggers and stressors. For the rest of the class, you listened intently, drawn in by Professor Reid’s clear excitement about the topic.

Your efforts to ignore your professor’s appearance were somewhat successful, but as you listened to him speak passionately about the value of profiling as a tool for certain types of criminal investigations, you knew you were done for. His excitement about sharing his knowledge left you fighting back a smile, watching intently as he gestured wildly. You’d always liked listening to fellow nerds, eagerly basking in the pure delight beaming from their faces as they ranted about their subject of interest.

You sighed internally, preparing yourself for a semester of unreasonable dedication to this class, which was meant to be your chill psych elective to leave you more time to spend in the lab. It’s not like this topic wasn’t interesting to you, it was just that you weren’t expecting to be obsessed with it-- or more accurately, the man teaching it.

Before you knew it, the class was over. Professor Reid told everyone to finish the assigned reading by next class in preparation for a discussion, dismissing the class and walking over to his desk. You gathered up your belongings and the remnants of your dignity before slowly making your way to the exit, lost in thought about the overlap between your field and his.

Your feet changed course before you could stop to think about what you were doing. When you tuned back in, you were horrified to find that you were walking towards Professor Reid. Right when you were about to turn around and try to escape without further embarrassment, you were stopped by his curious but friendly gaze. Ignoring your inner voice’s screams of horror, you composed yourself and made your way over to his desk.

He spoke before you could, greeting you with a small smile and a polite “how can I help you?”

“Hi! Um, I just wanted to come apologize for being late today. I promise, it’s really unlike me, and I just don’t want you to think that I don’t care about your class or anything, because it seems really cool so far and I’m so interested in seeing how this could apply to my research and I was only really late because of this dream I had-”

You stopped before going into detail, saving yourself from your nervous rambling, and he spoke your name hesitantly. Your confusion must have been apparent on your face, because he looked at your chest, clearly having made the connection from the word embroidered on it. The devil on your shoulder whispered that his eyes had lingered there longer than they needed to, but you dismissed that thought quickly.

“There’s no need to apologize, as long as you don’t make a habit of it we should be fine,” he reassured you, “and judging from how well you paid attention today, I have no doubt you’ll more than make up for it next class in the discussion.”

You bit back a smile at his praise, shocked he’d noticed you at all. You thanked your lucky stars he’d interpreted your staring as interest in the class, rather than the glaring sign of attraction that it would easily be identified as in any other setting. You quickly nodded, thanking him for his understanding and promising it wouldn’t happen again before exchanging goodbyes as you turned and walked out of the room.

Bursting out of the lecture hall, you finally filled your lungs with air fully, trying to regain some sense of control over your feelings. As you walked to the library to study, your mind wandered back to Professor Reid. It’s not like he’d ever feel the same way, what’s the harm in a little daydreaming? You decided you could live with a harmless crush. Keeps things interesting, you thought. Stepping into your castle of books, you pushed the events of the morning to the back of your mind, but one thought lingered: This is going to be one hell of a semester.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

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incarnateirony · 4 years

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What would you say, based on your experiences and studies, is the real impact a god can have in the world and in a person's life? In pop culture we usually only hear and see being portrayed the legends in wich the gods can mess with time and turn the stars into their weapons of mass destruction, or make crops grown overnight and completely change the weather in the blink of an eye, but what is the truth you found in your path?

Well first of all we need to address the term “god”. That term didn’t exist until about the 6th century. People retroactively lob a whole bunch of shit into the term as if it’s been around since the dawn of time.

Now, let’s talk about like, the universe. It’s really complex and there’s lots of shit in it. So I’m going to need people to understand that things that are “paranormal” or “on the other side” or however you wrap your head around the concept are just as diverse. Hell, even within a single species like humans there’s a VAST array of skill sets and abilities.

So the way one entity may influence someone is not the way they all will.

Some things that might be labeled gods don’t even necessarily think or influence directly even if they’re venerated, some are just forces of nature. Think about the way, say, angels are depicted in SPN. They’re part of the framework and many have different elements or skillsets.

I work with a very... limited few. I’ll use greek names since they’re often the most recognizable for people. Hermes for example can do everything from help inspire storytelling, improve your communication, help you out with driving-- sounds like a checklist but like, it’s honestly true. If you want an idea, he once hopped into someone who worked at a car insurance company and modeled exactly what it would take to total my wife’s car-- which was weird enough. Six months later, right around when her transmission was going out, while literally on the phone with me while I was at lunch, she got into a car crash that identically modeled the vehicle, while my wife stayed perfectly safe despite busting through a median and off the road entirely, and had only a bruise from her seatbelt to show for it. The thing sounded horrifying. The company then totalled the vehicle, paid out the covered value of the car, and she was able to get a functional vehicle.

That same entity also visited my wife after we broke up for a year only to tell her she needed to contact me again, that I *wasn’t* holding a grudge, and that she needed me. Like a month later her roommates bounced at her at the same time she got laid off and she was about to lose everything. Which is why I moved back. Brought about 5K, saved the house, roommated, rekindled, and here we are.

Weird shit, sure. Believe me or not is up to you. Dismiss it if you want, it’s just one of... like, thousands of instances with him. I’ve seen some shit, like someone with him just about teleporting around an entire house--walk out a bedroom door, across the livingroom, kitchen, around outside to the other side of the house in the time it took to turn around. Just... otherwise a normal dude. AC had fallen out of the window -- big, ancient AC. Big fucking ANCIENT AC those ones that are like 60 lbs. He casually picked it up, flipped it like a basketball, put it up to his ear, shook it, said it seemed fine, and shoved it on almost fingertips about 10 feet up into the elevated window.

Sometimes though it’s not dramatic signs. Sometimes it’s just knowing how they resonate and communicate even if you don’t have a magic voice in your head or whatever the fuck. Sometimes it’s knowing how to follow the signs, and often those signs lead to life changing things. Sometimes it’s little things, like the inexplicable set of eyedrops on my doorstep when I was stranded in wichita that I got the wild hair to try to return without a receipt which turned into a country wide eyedrop scam to fuel my way back home with no cash. Should I admit it, probably not, but have fun tracking that 10 year dead case, coppers.

But on the other hand, Athena is very different. She’s quiet and unassuming until she needs to be a sentry or a tactician. She shifts thought paradigms and considerations and teaches all kinds of fascinating shit. My wife got trained in mounted combat (on horses) for like, a reason. There’s a running joke with friends they know who to come to in the apocalypse.

They tend to foster interest or open doors.

Some things are less friendly. There’s been incidents of shit I’ve seen first hand that I had previously thought was utter hollywood bullshit or, as a famous line to a friend who was SO SCARED at Paranormal Activity I just kinda brushed off “lmao that’s just normal paranormal” “Say that again?”

So really it varies.

Stuff like crops growing overnight or whatever I haven’t exactly seen. I fully admit I haven’t exactly figured out the boundaries on reality bending--but I really don’t think it’s ever reality *bending*-- most are still just living in this world one way or another. It’s operation and guidance within that reality with extra lessons and help. But I do know people just... can perform some wild shit when they’re not their normal people. Like seeing a 350 lb man monkey climb a building like spiderman in a few seconds. Yes, I’ve seen it. No, it’s not often.

I think it’s less about warping reality. As long as we live in a three dimensional world and process it through the lens of time, things that take time are still going to take time. I mean, if anyone’s successfully gotten a god to like punch them through time or something let me know, but so far, nada.

Things I HAVE seen as real though? The power surge shit. That does in fact happen. Probably because they’re immaterial and energy based. I don’t exactly run around with an EMF detector but I have seen a vengeful spirit (and he was an impressive one I didn’t think human ghosts could get to the level of) blow out a city block (well more country mile) mid fight and drain everyone’s electronics to put them in the dark in the house in the woods kind of shit while trying to block the doors.

*shrug* In the end, just like any life skills, what they can do or influence varies. If trying to engage, make sure to check out the general domains of each thing. Also for your own sake before you do anything please research back to where that entity may have originated because some shit has gotten hella PR facelifts and you don’t want to engagKEJKSJDFKSDJf

One of my favorite articles is from a Hermes priestess named Thenea, called “Interview with Hermes: Sex, Deific Politics, and Death” and it goes into the individuation of different domains and who/what to reach out to.

But in the end when it comes to mass destruction, they tend to have enough chaos on their own side in the harmony of it all. Sure, things can get pushed, shoved, shorted, whatever, but like, trying to convert one type of energy into another just to make a magic nuke generally doesn’t seem on the table.

On the other hand, they can inspire ideas that CAUSE destruction. Be that religions or like-- once someone told me that Ares invented the nuclear missile in a way. I scratched my head and said that didn’t make sense. Who do you think invented mortars? Well, yes, ancient man obviously, but the actual development of the line of thought in interest of advancing warring and its wide adaptation and usage might have never happened. And what did the mortar evolve into over time, and what continues to make it evolved? Goading man to war.

So yeah. In that way, weird as it sounds, Ares kinda made the A Bomb. The push of his domain proliferates it, the inspiration that comes from it. To destroy this world, we don’t have to wait for a lightning bolt from the cosmos. We just need a few bad bugs in our ear and some bad endorsements and we’ll do it FOR the bad guys in our own misadventures. So those same lessons, thoughts, paths and inspirations can flip dangerously.

Hope that helped?

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decadentblood · 5 years

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below the cut, there’s some information about my characters. i’m going to update this later because i can’t keep looking at it but annaleigh and evan are all completed for now !

𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘

brave little foot soldier you have more courage than sense and i’m not quite sure what to make of you. kneel a wayward child and rise a hunter of artemis. glittering silver bow and quiver and arrows made of materials that only gods can think of. glittering circlet on your head identifies you as a favored champion. do not disappoint the one whose gifts keep you standing.

annaleigh barrow has a particular prowess in archery and incredibly vision at night. at just twenty five, for the last hundred and fifty years, give or take, they have faithfully served the goddess artemis as one of her hunters. though only at the nemean lion for the last five years, they have taken a liking to this place and serve as one of artemis’ representatives. you can typically find them in the armory, working.

on history

annaleigh has been twenty five for about a hundred and fifty years.

they were born in 1838 and a middle child in a family of ten.

anna’s mama got pregnant by apollo after her fourth or fifth and anna was born ! totally not a surprise to anna’s mama that a result of an affair would join the family.

they’d grown up watching their brothers help their father hunt for food but they were never allowed to join and relegated to the more feminine tasks.

when the war rolled around, they were living in the border state of virginia during the war, extremely close to the borderline with maryland.

anna’s family chose the confederacy. anna chose the union.

she abandoned her family for the war effort in 1862, joining with a group of women who had medical training as nurses to follow the union army as closely as they could for the preservation of life. anna, bolder than most, had a tendency to go with some soldiers into battle.

in 1863, a few months before their 25th birthday, anna laid their brother to rest and sent home a letter to their mother. to this day, she doesn’t know if they actually read the letter or burned it like they had with the others.

1863 was an auspicious year for anna. it was the year they almost died.

in a haze of pain and death and gore, artemis appeared to a bleeding out anna and promised respite. in exchange for their life, anna became one of artemis’ hunters.

home had never felt real until they’d joined the hunters.

once a child now a warrior grown, anna has excellent aim and control when it comes to utilizing the gifts of artemis and they only ever want to bring pride to the title of hunter.

they’re well known for getting women home safely and taking down their fair share of would be assaulters — most of them have a broken nose by the time they’ve been picked up by the cops.

anna has a particularly intimidating look to them and they like to keep most people at an arm’s length away.

it feels easier that way than to lose people that they care about.

𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍

i hear your mother in your infectious laughter and i see your father in your arms, strong and compassionate. i see your step mother in your quick tongue. she was your mother’s gift to your father, after you. she also did right by you, i know that by the way she gave you those little girls who comprise your world. son of aphrodite your blessings are numerous, her love for you present in your everyday.

evan lowell has a stunning gift, if i do say so myself. mama gifted him the ability to petrify his enemies with a kiss. imagine how that went over the first time. it’s gotten better over the years, and he certainly does his mama proud, but he’s been at lowell longer than most, almost since it opened. maybe that’s why he’s notorious for being the first to chomp at the bit to go on missions ( well, until his baby girls arrived ). now he’s in his office, twin girls running around.

on history

evan lowell doesn’t have a lot of bad days. even the days where things seem like they’re world endingly bad, good always cropped up for him.

he had a really good childhood, surrounded by little siblings.

evan’s dad, aiden, met his now-wife, drew ( short for druella ), about ten months after evan was born. aiden and drew have had six kids together, making evan the oldest of seven. he has Always had that Tired Dad aesthetic going on, even though he’s only two years older than his nearest sibling in age.

evan was always involved in what his little siblings were doing and how he could help his parents.

he has incredibly fond memories of helping his mama around the house with the chores. by seven he was washing windows and vacuuming like a champ. he had a love for order in the chaos of their household and his desire for a close knit family started here, in these moments.

drew also taught him how to cook. aiden couldn’t cook for shit and drew thought that at least one of the lowell men should get a grip and learn how to. she also taught him most of the other household skills he knows, from changing a lightbulb to fixing the weather stripping on doors. aiden also taught evan how to work with most tools.

this close family dynamic set evan up well for his future and for how he treats his own children. but first, we should rewind a little bit.

evan had Big Fuckboy Energy when he was in high school. he was a jock ( football in the fall, baseball in the spring ), he was voted homecoming and prom king his senior year, and everyone saw him with a revolving door of girls around him.

this perception is extremely funny to evan, because he grew up incredibly respectful and desiring a relationship like his parents, one as loving and full of laughter. evan never had more than one partner at a time, and his gentle heart was broken pretty easily. high school isn’t the time to be seeking commitment but that’s pretty much what evan desired from the time he could stumble around on his little feet.

skip forward to age 23. evan met caroline.

he thought he was going to marry this girl, he was so in love with her. but some things ! they’re just not meant to be !

but lmao he did get her pregnant so that worked out great.

they’re actually on good terms and they have a court order in place, just in case. they don’t ,,, usually follow it. they co-parent effectively and he still spends most major holidays with her so that the girls don’t feel isolated from one parent or another.

caroline has a girlfriend now, her name is ismelda ! they’re very happy and evan really likes her.

the twins aren’t totally fleshed out yet but in my defense they are four so they’re still working on developing into their own little people. their names are natalie and nicole.

𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒄𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆

modern day witch aesthetics don’t begin to cover this kind of power. rose quartz lined windowsills meet tarot readings at midnight and sing the song of a queen of water; that song is about yourself. the desire to run defeated by roots you didn’t mean to lay.

katharine mcclure spends a lot of time training others in the gym, it’s something that she enjoys doing. she’s intertwined with the weave of her mother’s magic, a gift she shares with most of her siblings. this little girl sewed chaos everywhere she’s been and only changed her ways when she got here. perhaps it’s because she wanted somewhere to belong, wanted somewhere to god.

on history

katharine mcclure grew up in solitude, not that she minded much.

her magic manifested itself early and for that she’ll always be thankful.

she may not have had the best intentions at all times but it’s fine. no one died.

that she knows of.

i’ll update this ,,,, more ,,, soon, ,, i promise.

𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂 𝒐'𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒆

a child born of love and hardship, living and dead, she is a melancholic kind of beauty. her eyes sparkle with knowledge long since forgotten and twinkle with life. the voices that trail through her mind aren’t always hers but she understands the desire of wanting to be heard, wanting to be loved, wanting to move on from where they feel trapped. so she helps them. maybe that’s why papa left at eight years old after dropping her off at the nemean lion. maybe that’s why she grew up so lonely.

melissa o’rourke typically sits at the counter in the lobby as an attendant. there are spirits there who flit about and talk to her, thankful for the first time in years someone could understand them. she just smiles and listens and these things have made her kind. they’re also gossip fonts, those pesky spirits, and people tend to be surprised by the things she knows. she’s been here a long time, a fixture of this place.

on history

soon

𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

in the name of the father, son, and holy spirit. i’m sorry that i press flowers between pages, i just want to preserve a beauty that is fleeting. i’m sorry violence comes from this act. i’m sorry because i don’t feel good enough, like i’m undeserving, like i’m not supposed to be here. is that because i’m the son of a man who holds open the gateway to death or is that because i’m the son of a woman who has never spent more than a week with me at a time? please let me skip to the part where i’m actually happy and not just pretending for the sake of pretending. amen.

son of hades your bones sing a thousand songs and you don’t want to hear any of them. oliver henstridge grew up relatively well off, but you don’t come to the nemean lion at thirteen because your relationships with the mortal part of your family are all that great. he’ll leave for a week at a time every six to ten months to spend some time with his mother but usually he’s somewhere around the nl, being bothersome, making tiktoks, whatever he feels like doing in the moment. for a boy with the ability to manipulate shadows, to bend that piece of reality to his will and step through them like doors to the other side of the world, he certainly doesn’t take anything too seriously.

on history

soon

on wanted connections

soon

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maggotmouth · 6 years

Text

hi i’m nora (23. gmt. she/her) and i’m going to play three (3) characters ! cos i hate myself. no 1 is bridget the angsty socialist leftie liberal who gets fucked at the pub and goes off on one about capitalism. very talkative. always in docs and a beret with an anarchist symbol painted on it. wears a long green trench coat covered in badges for alt punk rock bands or a red denim jacket that she hacked into a crop jacket with a pair of kitchen scissors. film nerd. got in on a partially subsidised scholarship and works in a bar and a fast food place to pay for her accomodation. here’s a pinboard !! everythin else is below this cut, like this post n i’ll (probably forget to) smash that im button for plots x

application template.

( cis-female ) haven’t seen BRIDGET MATUSIAK around in a while. the MARGARET QUALLEY lookalike has been known to be GARRULOUS & CANDID, but SHE can also be FICKLE & ERRATIC. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in FILM. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.

aesthetics.

thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, roller blades, grazed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

connection to tatiana & did they choose her name during the watershed?

knew each other from the cheer team in bridgets freshman year and tatiana’s sophomore year. had a competitive friendship to start with but then they got into a discussion about politics at a party one night, and maybe hooked up a few times after tatiana had jst broken up w someone. they were sort of seeing each other very casually for a bit, but…. they came from vastly different circles n it didn’t really work. they were in a bad partch at the time of the reaping so to speak, and bridget picked her name For A Giggle but now regrets it big time obviously

tw drugs, teen pregnancy, hypersexuality

bridget n her mum alice were more like sisters growing up, probably because of the closeness in age. alice should’ve known that you couldn’t have a thirteen-year-old-daughter at 27 without everyone knowing you’d been one of those girls who gave it away fast as a hot potato, and maybe bridget should have known that she’d inherit more than her mother’s wide eyes, that things had a way of circling back, that at fourteen she too would lose it on the floor of a swimming pool changing room, soggy back, poka-dot nylon pulled down to her ankles.

her parents met in high school. her mother alice was a roman catholic – uneducated in matters of safe sex, mother mary around her neck, bras hanging over wooden crucifixes – and willing to give it to the first boy who seemed interested enough, gift-wrapped or not.

i say they met in high school, bridget’s dad wasn’t actually in school, they met at the high school. he was the father to a girl down the road. alice knew nothing of the girl besides her name and the few encounters in the corridors facing a stoney stare that screamed homewrecker. it only happened once, but once was enough. soon the pitter patter of tiny feet sounded along the hall of the home for wayward women, alice’s parents having thrown her out as soon as they knew a child was growing in her womb.

gilly (referred to as junior) was born two years later, the son of a mechanic and handyman named gilbert “gilly” senior, who - while a slow-witted man – was likable enough. alice, gilly bridget & junior lived in a colorado trailer park and whenever she wasn’t at school bridget would be in gilly’s workshop doin her homework surrounded by parts of exhausts. was raised in a workshop basically.

like her mother, bridget fell pregnant barely out of her gingham print dresses, hair in two plaits down her back, teddies still lining her bed. unlike her mum, she was not box-shipped out to a home for fallen women but rather booked into a clinic, given a pill, just like taking your vitamins.

her mother flaked out when bridget was around fifteen and junior was twelve, leaving gil to adopt the two as legal guardian and raise them in the forge. she’s lived with gilly ever since. they’re not sure where their mother went. some say she rededicated herself as a virgin and joined the convent in penance for her sins. some say she works in a las vegas strip club and sells pills to minors.

used to do sponsored silences and hunger strikes for kids in third world countries. was that kid in school who was always raising money something. i mean its kinda cute but also she just wanted the acclaim and attention so…. and most of the time it didn’t even make it to the disadvantaged kids she was raising it for cos her mom needed rent money or to buy the kids new shoes n they could barely afford much themselves

she’s a strident feminist, an activist for human rights and animal rights, a vocal vegetarian and an all-round soapbox sadie. catch her in the quad shouting about human rights through a megaphone.

aesthetic: cuffed jeans, thrifted or stolen. white converse, more grey tbh through years of wear. crop tops and plaid shirts tied round her waist. a long green trench coat with loads of badge pins for alt-rock bands and independent films. red denim jacket, also covered in badges n pins. smudged mascara. glitter smeared over cheekbones from the previous night. cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

an aspiring screenwriter. she has a very image-based view of memory and experience. always doing a screenplay or shooting film. her style has a lot of catholic iconography (think virgin suicides styler or baz luhrmann’s romeo + juliet if it was done on a super 8 camera) bcos catholicism is one of the few things she remembers about her mother. she’s never actually tried to find her mum / find out about her, jst…. occasionally channels that energy into her work.

hypersexual and kinda manic-depressive (though not diagnosed) probs bcos her upbringing was a bit unstable, she started life in a house that was literally designed to rehabilitate “fallen women” and she was a looked after child for a while when the adoption papers were still going through… struggles a lot with feeling unwanted, especially since her grandparents refuse to acknowledge her existence cos she was born outside of marriage….. so she craves feeling wanted,, like despite being a real women’s rights activist ad hating objectification, at the same time to bridge there’s nothing better than someone sizing you up with hunger in their eyes

she’s queer, but i guess she favours women, and is incredibly vocal in her support of the lgbt+ movement. often at rallies. has done a face-sitting protest. really is that bitch

there’s a degree of anger for anger’s sake in bridget. she likes passionate, angry music – particularly garage rock, punk and riot grrrl. she loves the slits and skinny girl diet. viv albertine inspired her to take up bass guitar.

working two jobs to pay for uni currently !! works at the bowling alley polishing the shoes and fixing the bowling lanes, and also is a burger flipper at mcdonalds. a lot of her time is spent in the record store, plugged into a set of headphones, head-banging in the corner to a scratched record. music, for birdie, is a form of escapism. that and dropping acid in parking lots lmao.

massive film buff. is majoring in film at uni also spends a lot of time at the movie theatre n probably has like a season ticket. is one of those pretentious film nerds who're like “what do u think of goddard’s work?” but also just really into shitty horror movies

she spends her evenings in downtown bars willing away her boredom, trying to find something that’ll jerk her out of apathetic lethargy. she toys with the idea of becoming a stripper — it certainly pays better than fixing bowling lanes — but she lacks the energy to dance for several hours a night.

she loves b movies and slasher flicks. at parties, she’ll occasionally try to make a horror of her own, on a super 8 camera in someone’s basement, very paranormal activity, but she’ll inevitably get bored, or too drunk and give up, like she does with most things in her life. she lacks drive and motivation. she’s bright but there’s no hunger in her.

writes shitty poems on the back of napkins and quotes dead philosophers she’s never read. romanticises herself a lot. like will be standing there in a ripped t-shirt and her undies smoking a cig like “hmmm… i bet someone is falling in love with me right now”

is vegetarian for environmental reasons but snorts coke at parties like that isn’t shit for the environment ?? sis, it don’t add up

loves dirt. ate a worm once because someone dared her too. shamelessly disgusting.

she’s slightly obsessed with true crime, up late watching documentaries on the manson family murders.

she’s fickle and enigmatic. one moment she could be your best friend, the next, she’ll behave like a total stranger. bridget’s unpredictable because she’s still unsure of her own identity, frequently flitting between different characters, like snake skins, before she grows bored of being bubbly and eager and becomes spiteful again. her core personality traits are probably forthright, impulsive, restless, thrill-seeking, selfish, melancholic.

this bitch HATES capitalism and LOVES karl marx

time isn’t real. nothing exists. the self is a social construct. finger guns.

an awful person, really

feel free to im me if u wanna plot, here are some plot ideas i stole, or, like this post and i’ll hit u with a message!

#water:intro #boom boom boom boom. i want u in my ims

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glitchb0t · 5 years

Photo

nines was an absolute deviant at the con 👀 gavin would be shook

slightly late weekend summary under the cut. apologies to those on mobile lol

I had so much fun this year!! Friday (the first photo which I had posted earlier but deleted for the sake of this post) was a little slower. I talked with some people, but I mostly did my own thing – walked around, killed my feet, posed for some photos where I accidentally had my LED facing away from the camera like a dummy. In the evening, I went out with some friends where I finally, after 7 years of being legally able to do so, ordered my first drink from a bar lol. People kept calling me Connor, though, and that’s not my name. That’s not my name. That’s not my name. That’s not my– name.

Then on Saturday, I started out as Connor but I neglected to take any selfies. That’s not to say no photos exist, however, because there are definitely a number of ‘em. They’ll just be cropping up over the next few days.

Anyway, I ended up running into a Connor I had met the day before (who is known in my phone now as The Disaster Connor), and he stole me away from my roaming to hang out (which I was immensely grateful for). We stopped for food (where we had blue raspberry Italian ice because thirium – fuck the fact it stains mouths) where we ended up meeting another Connor who wasn’t actually Connor at the time but decided they’ll switch cosplays after either a photoshoot or a panel later in the day I can’t remember which (this one is The Good Connor). Oddly enough they had also talked to me the day before :’D

I had heard rumors of a Hank with an entire group of Connors so we then went on a journey to find them. The three of us were yelling DAD and I threatened to LICK SOME EVIDENCE, LIEUTENANT but sadly Hank did not appear from around a corner. Eventually we found them, though, and that was when I was like “I was Nines yesterday I... I should go change” and the response was a unanimous YES.

So after some photos with the Connors + Hank, I switched over to RK900 again. I warned Disaster!Connor ahead of time that I was going to be a sassy Nines so he didn’t take any offense to what I said cause hoo boy lemme tell yah lmao. I was nice to Good!Connor, though. Good!Connor was well behaved unlike some androids.

We did another shoot together after that and I cannot wait for those photos to get back to me cause they are amazing :’D At one point the Hank and I dropped a sick album wherein I, as Nines, looked very confused and concerned because What did you just put on my head? What are we doing? Lieutenant, please, cease this nonsense.

The Connors had also swarmed me at one point and appeared to experience a malfunction that placed them in an unanimated state. It was unsettling, but I would appreciate it if you did not inform them of this. As I’ve come to understand, it was likely their intention. I did evade their efforts initially, but I underestimated the roof’s level of illumination, and so I allowed them to capture me to prevent harm to bystanders. My decision to go with them was absolutely of my own volition regardless of what they may say. (I had such a hard time keeping character at some points, and that whole experience was one of them lol Half a dozen Connors t-posing at a single Nines.)

Towards the end of Saturday, I intended to change back into Connor to go to the rave, but I ended up staying in Nines and not going (for the first time since I started staying in Pittsburgh for the con). At that point, we had met another RK900 and a Gavin and I was having too much fun with everyone to leave. (And since we took to sitting in the no photo relaxation zone that was when the second photo happened.)

One of the girls I was staying with, however, did go to the rave, and whenever I met up with her after everyone left, I saw her coat and was like.... okay but Nines in that, and thus the last photo was born. My LED is green there because it has 300+ settings that include a number of flashing colors, and This is why I’m the superior model. Disco light in the temple 👍

Sunday we woke up late so even if I wanted to cosplay, I wouldn’t have been able to since we had to be out of the room by 11 and it was just before 10 at that point. So I was out and about with my CyberLife shirt instead, and we hit up the dealers room/artist alley one last time. I bought some things, but I’m ngl: I’m pretty disappointed with the artist alley this year. I was fully expecting more DBH but there wasn’t much there. There wasn’t much for Resident Evil either, or Devil May Cry, or anything that I’m into right now. I mean, I still blew most of my money obviously, but still. Not too many buttons this year :( A lot of bread, though. So much bread. I’m a big fan of the Japanese market.

I exchanged contact info with a bunch of people, and next year we’re going to have a big group where I’ll be Nines again. I’m already so hype for that :D

So yeah! Tekko was really fun this year and I’m super glad I was able to find a room to stay in. I made new friends, finally got a chance to act like the character I was cosplaying (which doesn’t happen very often since I’m usually alone or with people who don’t know what I’m dressed as), and have plans for next year already (including buying a new jacket for Nines that I’ll add lights to so more than just the collar lights up, fixing my wig, and getting better at contouring). Absolutely worth all that pre-con stress, the blisters on the bottom of my feet, and the now missing skin from my heel i hate dress shoes ♥

#tekko 2019 #this got long sorry :')#glitch rambles #glitch cosplays #my face

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absolutelynotjesus · 8 years

Text

Who should you fight from Yuri!!! on Ice

sorry its really late and im just sitting there laughing at myself

dunno if there’s something like that already lmao

also they're all athlethes so i just ignored that for the sake of story

enjoy

Yurio

you should totally fight this kid. he's, like, 2 feet tall?? 15 years old??? all bark but no bite??? also a lil' rude motherfucker, i can understand why you'd wanna wreck him. just catch him while hes not wearing his knife shoes and keep from jolting, he wont be able to do shit. also watch out for his gay parents and psychotic fans. THEN you can kick his fuckin tiger socks off.

Otabek

Please don't fight this man, he just wants to have a real friend and maybe to be introverted in peace. Unproblematic fave? Silent philosopher on ice?? Why would you wanna attack him in any way??? also kind of feel like he'd try to avoid fighting you with any way known to men, but would totally 100% beat the shit outta you if could not get away (have you even SEEN these muscles????).

do yourself and everyone else a favor and dont fight otabek altin.

Viktor

Are you mad?? He's, like, the vogue's most wanted man of the last decade. You really wanna feel the wrath of the entire population of his fans??? Other than that he seems pretty fightable, but I'd still reconsider.

Why you even wanna fight him in the first place? He's just a bit silly, but otherwise outstanding man who likely just wants to live peacefully with his soon-to-be husband and lots of poodles, probably in a house with a big garden or some sentimental romantic bullshit like that. leave the gay man be. (also he seems like a guy who might have some connections to mafia. if i was you i would not check if thats true.)

Yuuri

Please, do not fight Yuuri Katsuki. He might seem anxious and too kind-hearted for that shit, but believe me, he's not the kinda guy you would wanna fight. he's pretty competitive, wont take any shit from you, wont let you disrespect him or his precious gay family. have you seen what kind of shit he did at that banquet after some champagne? i bet my ass he would take pleasure in beating you up if you did him/his fiancee/their angry smol child wrong. its always the quiet dudes.

100% he has something up his sleeve. Do not fight Katsuki Yuuri.

are you joking? go for it. this guy probably cries when someone calls him bitchbaby, spends more money on cosmetics than food and has his butt on a life insurance. nobody likes him (expect his fiancee and fans). he's a professional pissoff. and you know what? you certainly can thrash his self-obsessed ass. youre welcome!

Chris

if i was you i would not fight him. dude seems kinda chill, but also fucked up. like, who the fuck comes on ice?? thats a whole new level of fuckupery. he might not have any inhibitions and i dont know if you wanna deal with that. also there's a big chance he might try to sexually harass you while you struggle to beat him up. if you don't feel uncomfortable/just want to get in his pants and dont know any other way to gain his attention than fight him, just do it.

so I'd say 50/50.

Phichit

Try beating that sunshine child up and I'll fucken end u.

Guang Hong Ji

Such a good, sweet kid. His hugs probably can cure cancer. His smile gets rid of an acne and dandruff. His posts on social media clear skin and water crops. Do not fight him, befriend and then use him to make money of his magic healing abilities.

Leo

Another nice guy. If you decide to fight him he won't stand a chance. But I don't think that you two would actually get to the fighting part, there are so many things to talk about and selfie and you seem like a swell guy let's go on a brunch what are you allerg-

Seung-gil Lee

Weird dude. Most likely knows all of your weaknesses as soon as he sees you, but also seems kind of air-headed? You might try if you really want. I would highly recommend catching him by surprise. 75% chance of winning then, i'd say.

Georgi

You probably can, but why? Just roast him. Tell him mean shit about his relationship with Anya. Tell him that hes a dumb cryboob. Make him reflect his whole life. He'll cry. He'll lost all his motivation. Become depressed. Then you can wave your black cloak for the last time and walk towards the sunset. Maybe kick him for a good measure, if you really need to.

Michele

He would really beat the flying shit outta you, but only if you tried assaulting his sister. You could send him official invitations for a fight ten fucking years every day and he wouldn't get it at all. Try only if you have a way of destroying him emotionally. Like, Sara agreed to date you or smth.

Minami

Easy thing, but why? Maybe if he really iritates you, give him a lil' slap of a some kind, but don't be too mean, he's a good kid. Also, his menthor might cut a bitch if you do him any real harm. Maybe try a balaclava? Idk dude just dont

Mila

Don't even try. She's beauty she's grace she'll give you a fucking run for your life and make you regret all your life decisions. She's a real queen DO NT FIGHT MILA BABICHEVA IF YOU VAL;UE YOUR LIF E

SUMMARY: RATHER FIGHT: Seung-gil Lee, JJ, Yurio CAN FIGHT BUT AT YOUR OWN RISK: Minami, Chris, Viktor, Phichit, Leo DONT NEED TO FIGHT TO DESTROY/USE: Georgi, Michele, Guang Hong Ji DO NOT FIGHT: Mila, Yuuri, Otabek

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maggotmouth · 6 years

Text

yo, it’s nora ( gmt, she/her) i’m back on my bullshit. sorry for dropping finn and cecily i jst.... wasn’t feelin very in their headspace.

anyway bridget matusiak is a certified mess™ so have fun with that, she is an angry queer punk(?) maybe altho her identity …. i guess like everyone’s …. is very fluid…. she is very fickle and prone to change….. very impulsive and acts how she feels in the moment a lot i guess….. but also very grounded in her morals and ethics. film nerd. works at bowling alley. shakes hands. says “roger that”. yet somehow very cool™ and hip™. anyway like this or message me for plots. here’s a pinboard if u think those are groovy.

( nora. 23. gmt. she/her. ) it might be HER SOPHOMORE year but I still think BRIDGET MATUSIAK looks exactly like MARGARET QUALLEY and sometimes I think the FEMALE is actually them. Of course I’m wrong, as they're TWENTY and studying FILM while living in AUDAX here at Lockwood. The ARIES can be rather CANDID and GARRULOUS, but also kind of FICKLE and ERRATIC. Their most played song on Spotify was NOBODY REALLY CARES IF YOU DON’T GO TO THE PARTY by COURTNEY BARNETT, so I think that says a lot.

her parents met in high school. her mother alice was a roman catholic -- uneducated in matters of safe sex, mother mary around her neck, bras hanging over wooden crucifixes -- and willing to give it to the first boy who seemed interested enough, gift-wrapped or not.

gilly (referred to as junior) was born two years later, the son of a mechanic and handyman named gilbert “gilly” senior, who - while a slow-witted man -- was likable enough. alice, gilly bridget & junior lived in a colorado trailer park and whenever she wasn’t at school bridget would be in gilly’s workshop doin her homework surrounded by parts of exhausts. was raised in a workshop basically.

her mother flaked out when bridget was around fifteen and junior was twelve, leaving gil to adopt the two as legal guardian and raise them in the forge. she’s lived with gilly ever since. they’re not sure where their mother went. some say she rededicaed herself as a virgin and joined the convent in penance for her sins. some say she works in a las vegas strip club and sells pills to minors.

a withdrawn child, bridget was selectively mute for 2 years (so girl has perseverance) n during that time her diary became her best friend. when she went mute she communicated exclusively through passive aggressive post it notes.

she’s a strident feminist, an activist for human rights and animal rights, a vocal vegetarian and an all-round soapbox sadie. catch her in the quad shouting about human rights through a megaphone.

hypersexual and kinda manic-deppressive (though not diagnosed) probs bcos her upbringing was a bit unstable, she started life in a house that was literally designed to rehabilitate “fallen women” and she was a looked after child for a while when the adoption papers were still going through... struggles a lot with feeling unwanted, especially since her grandparesnts refuse to acknowledge her existence cos she was born outside of marriage..... so she craves feeling wanted,, like despite being a real women’s rights activist ad hating objectification, at the same time to bridge there’s nothing better than someone sizing you up with hunger in their eyes

she’s queer, but i guess she favours women, and is incredibly vocal in her support of the lgbt+ movement. often at ralleys. has done a face-sitting protest. really is that bitch

working two jobs to pay for uni currently !! works at the bowling alley polishing the shpes and fixing the bowling lanes, and also is a burger flipper at mcdonalds. a lot of her time is spent in the record store, plugged into a set of headphones, head-banging in the corner to a scratched record. music, for birdie, is a form of escapism. that and dropping acid in parking lots lmao.

massive film buff. is majoring in film at uni also spends a lot of time at the movie theatre n probably has like a season ticket. is one of those pretentious film nerds who’s like “what do u think of goddard’s work?” but also just really into shitty horror movies

is vegetarian for environmental reasons but snorts coke at parties ?? sis, it don’t add up

loves dirt. ate a worm once because someone dared her too. shamelessly disgusting.

she’s slightly obsessed with true crime, up late watching documentaries on the manson family murders.

an awful person, really

feel free to im me if u wanna plot, here are some plot ideas i stole, or, like this post and i’ll hit u with a message!

#tw hypersexuality #lw:intro #tw drugs

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maggotmouth · 6 years

Text

rises from the dead like mushu hullo it’s nora ( gmt, she/her) n i’m sorry didnt do my intro yesterday, i woke up in a bath, happy new year. anyway bridget is a mess, the angsty socialist leftie liberal who gets fucked at the pub and goes off on one about immigration or the welfare state or the pay gap. very talkative n bubbly, carefree but also.... cares too much. always in docs but only the vegan ones. usually in a beret with an anarchist symbol painted on it. wears a long green trench coat covered in badges for alt punk rock bands or a red denim jacket that she hacked into a crop jacket with a pair of kitchen scissors. film nerd. got in on a partially subsidised scholarship and works in a bar and a fast food place to pay for her accomodation.

heres a pinboard. everythin else is below this cut, like this post n i’ll smash that im button for plots x

it might be HER SOPHOMORE year but I still think BRIDGET MATUSIAK looks exactly like MARGARET QUALLEY and sometimes I think the FEMALE is actually them. Of course I’m wrong, as they’re TWENTY and studying FILM while living in FIDELIS here at Lockwood. The ARIES can be rather CANDID and GARRULOUS, but also kind of FICKLE and ERRATIC. Their most played song on Spotify was NOBODY REALLY CARES IF YOU DON’T GO TO THE PARTY by COURTNEY BARNETT, so I think that says a lot.

used to do sponsored silences and hunger strikes for kids in third world countries. was that kid in school who was always raising money something. i mean its kinda cute but also she just wanted the acclaim and attention so.... and most of the time it didn’t even make it to the disadvantaged kids she was raising it for cos her mom needed rent money or to buy the kids new shoes n they could barely afford much themselves

she’s a strident feminist, an activist for human rights and animal rights, a vocal vegetarian and an all-round soapbox sadie. catch her in the quad shouting about human rights through a megaphone.

hypersexual and kinda manic-depressive (though not diagnosed) probs bcos her upbringing was a bit unstable, she started life in a house that was literally designed to rehabilitate “fallen women” and she was a looked after child for a while when the adoption papers were still going through… struggles a lot with feeling unwanted, especially since her grandparesnts refuse to acknowledge her existence cos she was born outside of marriage….. so she craves feeling wanted,, like despite being a real women’s rights activist ad hating objectification, at the same time to bridge there’s nothing better than someone sizing you up with hunger in their eyes

she’s queer, but i guess she favours women, and is incredibly vocal in her support of the lgbt+ movement. often at ralleys. has done a face-sitting protest. really is that bitch

is vegetarian for environmental reasons but snorts coke at parties ?? sis, it don’t add up

loves dirt. ate a worm once because someone dared her too. shamelessly disgusting.

she’s slightly obsessed with true crime, up late watching documentaries on the manson family murders.

an awful person, really

feel free to im me if u wanna plot, here are some plot ideas i stole, or, like this post and i’ll hit u with a message!

#lw:intro #alma's will be coming in jst a sec

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