#honestly im happier w the result when i saw how cute he looked with it

[blooming-cecilia]

i think he likes the cecilia i made for him <3

pov hes giving you a cecilia. do you accept it yes or yes 🎤

[cottage-babe]

Bolin x pro-bender!Reader

Masterlist

here... take this bolin headcannon... just take it

i feel like there’s not nearly enough bolin stuff and since i’m almost finished w LOK, i guess ill aid this deficiency :)

also, i just started Book 3, so if theres some things that aren’t right or something, ignore it 

___

Bolin HC (during Book 1/Book 2)

so you guys met at (you guessed it) a pro-bending match

you were an Earthbender for the Ba Sing Se Badgermoles, a widely known team because you guys represented such a big city and you guys were actually kinda good

the Badgermoles were constantly interviewed, put on the covers of magazines, and bombarded by fans. The people loved you and your team

and so the day came where the Badgermoles were put up against the Fire Ferrets

you had heard about this team a lot; how they lost a member of the team, then the Avatar, actual master of the elements, filled in that empty space

it honestly took you so long to process

anyways, your team didn’t get the chance to meet the Fire Ferrets before the match; you just threw on all of your gear and made your way to the play area

you saw the Ferrets and instantly saw Avatar Korra, the only girl on the team

honestly, you couldnt see her well, but she was so pretty

anyways

the battle started and the Badgermoles got the advantage pretty quick

you took out their firebender and was working on the earthbender while the rest of team handled the Avatar

the earthbender put up a huge fight, it was so impressive

he even knocked you back a zone, but you recovered and, with a streak of luck, knocked him straight out of the field

you guys won that round

the next round didn’t go so well

the fire ferrets managed to knock all three of you guys off the platform, resulting in a win and a knock out

this meant that the entire match went to the Fire Ferrets

the other members on your team were annoyed and angry, but you weren’t phased too much

after all, Ba Sing Se treated you all extremely nicely, whether you win or not

so after the game, your team found themselves walking through the Fire Ferret’s locker room so you could leave

after your team mates walked past, you stayed behind and talked to one of the Ferrets, the Earthbender

“Hey, you were really good out there.”

you took off your helmet, just like in the movies, and he swore time slowed

he just stood there, completely frozen with his mouth agape

you raised an eyebrow at his antics and it wasn’t until Avatar Korra slapped him on the back that he came back to

“You- good- were good, uh im- im Bolin.”

you just laughed at Bolin and smiled 

“My names Y/n”

you walked up close to him, noses inches apart

“And next time, we won’t lose.”

he just gulped and nodded him head

you turned and walked out, laughing quietly to yourself

the interaction boosted your mood up exponentially

anyways timeskip to when their looking for the airbenders

you were just chilling in Ba Sing Se in the upper ring

you and your team were given super nice houses since you were the city’s pride and joys

then suddenly, you see Bolin and his brother walking around calling for someone

“Bolin? is that you?”

that boy turned around so fast

he blushed so brightly when he saw you and kinda looked at his brother for help

“well, well, what are the Fire Ferrets doing in my city? you know.. i’ve been dying for a rematch!”

you were only joking of course

you knew that their team had broken up after the year you met Bolin

not that you were keeping tabs on their team

of course

“yeah not right now, we’re looking for someone” his brother said

“oh? need some help?”

it took some time to convince Mako, the brother, but eventually you annoyed him enough to let you join

you were all walking through the upper ring looking for some kid named Kai, but you weren’t really paying attention

you maybe, kinda, might only be there so you could hang out with Bolin

from what you had heard (once again, you definitely weren’t searching for info), Bolin was an outgoing, loud guy

now he was quieter than a mouse

“So, i heard you were making movers now. What, getting tired of being a Pro-Bender?”

“Huh? No. I still play! I’m just doing this until the season starts...”

you were visibly happier after hearing that

you had thought that acting was going to be his permanent thing from now on

but still one thing plagued your mind

“And whats that princess girlfriend of yours gonna think about it? Ginger, I think her name was.”

Spirits you had done wayyyy too much research on this man

to be fair, you didn’t think you’d see him ever again

he blushed and stuttered out something about how they weren’t really dating, how it was a publicity stunt, blah blah

you weren’t really paying attention because after hearing his availability, you decided that today was the day you were gonna make a move on him

if it fails, then you don’t really have much to worry about; he lives in an entirely different city and you would only have to see him once a year

but if it succeeds; ohohohoh you’d finally get to live out your crush

the pros really outweighed the cons right now

so you guys searched for Kai for a while more

you decided that you were going to make some subtle hints toward Bolin

you let your hand brush against his a couple times, but never really looked up to see his reaction

then, you guys found Kai

he was stealing some old guy’s money by... airbending? why does this day just keep getting weirder?

so you guys chase him down an the streets and eventually follow him onto a train

unfortunately, he tricks you and sends you guys all the way to the lower ring 

you used to live here when you were younger, before you became a Pro-Bender, and it wasn’t a nice place

only now, it seemed to have gotten worse

all of you tried to find a way to get on a train back to the upper ring, but none of you had your passports or any money

if only you hadn’t left your house in such a hurry

you even tried to pull the “im a Pro-Bender!” card, but it didnt work

so you guys stayed on the streets for the day

Bolin was really trying to lighten the situation up, but it wasn’t really working 

“C’mon guys! Korra will realize that we’re gone and then come rescue us! I know it!”

she did not come

eventually, they had to find a place to sleep and no where was letting the stay for free

so they found a place in an alley and slept on the floor

yup, the dirty floor

you were not used to this

you almost wanted to stay up for the whole night to avoid sleeping on the ground, but Bolin assured her that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed

it was

“mmm here! you can use my jacket.”

he took off his jacket and laied it out on the floor neatly before gesturing for you to lay there

you hesitated for a second before sitting, not really putting up much of a fight because of how tired you were

Mako was already asleep somewhere across the alley and Bolin began gathering up some papers to use as blanket

then he found a spot somewhere away from you and started to settle down

“hey Bolin? do you maybe wanna share the jacket?”

he looked up so quickly and even the soft light from the lamp post caught his blush

“uhh sure”

and so he came over and laid halfway on the jacket so that you could take up most of it

he even offered you some of his picked up trash to use as a blanket, but you grimaced at the grossness and shook your head

you turned away from him, not wanting to be too overwhelmed by his proximity, so you didn’t notice that Bolin was staring at you

before you could completely fall asleep, a cool breeze burst threw the alley way and you began to shiver

maybe you should’ve accepted his paper

“hey Y/n you awake?”

since you were currently bouncing between consciousness, you decided not to answer

you feel him scoot closer

“okay please dont be mad at me when you wake up”

then you felt his arm cover your cold skin and warm you instantly

Spirits, he should be a firebender with how warm he was

you scooted back to meet his chest and let him envelope you

you fell asleep so quick

both of you woke up to Mako above you speaking loudly

“hey lovebirds, wake up”

since you already know of the position you were in, you didn’t really jump back with the surprise that Bolin had

“S-Sorry Y/n! You just looked so cold last night that I-” 

“its fine Bolin” you smiled at him “and thank you”

spirits he was so cute

and so you guys went on with the day, thinking about stealing food, then meeting their long lost family

it was such a nice reunion

they talked a bit about their family history, but since you felt out of place, you settled for playing with the babies on the floor

you bended little toys out of rocks and watched as some tried the same

it was so cute

meanwhile, Bolin was having a little dilemma

he and Mako had just finished having a heartfelt conversation with his Grandma and now he walks out here to see you playing with little babies and laughing with them

you were just so cute

“you know she likes you too right?”

“huh?! what- staring? im not staring.”

Mako just sighed because wow his baby brother is so dumb

“just talk to her before we leave Ba Sing Se”

and so they got their passports and left to the Upper Ring

you were so excited to go back home and sleep in a real bed

but you had one more thing to do before all of that

“So uh Bolin”

“So uh Y/n”

you guys spoke at the same time

“Oh! you can go first”

once again at the same time

“listen Y/n, I think you’re really pretty and super strong, like you could beat me up if you wanted to and i think thats really cool.” *cue your confused stare* “um anyways what I meant to say was, I think I’m about to fight the queen of Ba Sing Se and if I make it out alive, do you think we could hang out? like just us two?”

you decided to ignore some parts of what he said because umm you can only handle so many things at once

you settled for kissing his cheek and confessing too

you went back home so excited

even tho your crush was about to commit treason <3

aww the two of you are so cute I can’t

[gotatext]

by this point im p sure u all know the drill.... i’m nora, 23, she/her, gmt and tonight matthew im going to be greta o’driscoll, a terrible person but a hot one which frankly makes it almost ok. here is her pinterest..... this intro is literally just copied n pasted frm the last time i played her so soz if u’ve read it like 10+ times.... 

「 diana silvers. cis-female. 」have you seen greta o’driscoll around yet? i hear she decided to be in POTENTAS for their SOPHOMORE year as a CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY major. the 20 year old SHEPHERD is known to be tenacious, magnetic, capricious and evasive. ➨ the muse is written by nora, she/her, gmt.

was adopted as an infant. had two foster moms and two older sisters so always surrounded by women. lived in a boarding house, very much like the one in 20th century women, with lodgers coming in and out all the time, mostly artsy young women because her gay moms were both high school teachers trying to set up their own arts collective. one of her moms left when she was 4, n she doesn’t really remember her.

while living with entirely women made her super into catlin moran and the guilty feminist, as a teenager she often let boys walk all over her bc she just craved male attention jst bcos she’d never really experienced it. saw it as something aspirational, like sitting in the back of chad’s second-hand truck while he drove you to macdonalds and offered you and his five friends with identical haircuts weed was the height of being cool to greta, she wanted to be their dream girl, even if it meant compromising her beliefs

was always a really sporty bitch. it started with a junior athletics squad, which turned into athletics and cheer, which then became athletics, cheer and hockey until she basically was doing a different activity every night. she came to see her body as a tool that she could make work for her if she trained it up and this attitude’s always kind of stayed with her that as long as her body is strong she is capable of anything. runs every day. 

bubbly bitch but also massive snake. metaphorically and literally, always shedding her skin. loyal to few, ruled by none, out for herself, babey!! every place she goes, she becomes a new character, someone who’s a figment of her imagination, as if each city is repertory theatre and she’s a character actress, so as a result som ppl think she’s called rita, some ppl know her as margot, she just flicks through identities like nobodies business.

left school at 18 n went backpacking around the states making money in the casinos by being a shot girl (yeehaw) and trying to make it as a mysterious 1920s widow with a smoky voice, a dark secret n a heart of gold, looking for love in the big city. all she found was producers and acting agents who’d promise her stardom n actually just fuck her in a motel n then ignore her calls.

TW domestic violence, TW gun, her watershed moment came when she met luke in sioux falls while she was working at a strip club. he was a few years older and had a car, and they kind of went from seeing each other to being that super intense couple who are just necking all the time.

they got engaged like 3 months after they met n rented a flat together, much to her family’s annoyance but she was 19 so there wasn’t much they could do. their relationship was super super intense though, often really heightened and when they fought it could become quite violent, but she’d pass it off as just him being really passionate.

one of their fights got really heated and greta threatened him with the gun he kept in the glove box of his vauxhall corsa, but the safety was off and she accidentally shot him. she pleaded self defence in the trial n cos of the amount of times she’d been hospitalised for various concussions n things like ‘fallling down the stairs’ the police were like yea… pretty watertight evidence that he was a bastard who [chicago voice] had it coming….. 

she’s now under witness protection, rehoused in livingstone as a sports-scholarship student, due to the amount of police involvement in the area, it would mean should one of luke’s family members try to track her down, she’d be relatively safe

massive sports fanatic. plays tennis. on the cheer team. was a track superstar in her high school. honestly just that sporty bitch, you’ll see her doing lines at a party at half four and then on your way to your 9am lecture you see her running across the park like a fresh fucking daisy who is this bitch. maybe it’s maybelline, maybe its coke.

massive feminist. low key quite scared of powerful men bcos of her ex. wants to start a female only lesbian commune bc she misses her childhood in a south dakota boarding house and has endless support for women. honestly annoyed that she is attracted to men, would so be 100% gay if it was a choice. cuffs her jeans and can’t drive. is That bisexual. skateboards. wears backwards caps.  i hate her 

isn’t a foward-planner, however. greta prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manners so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.

has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning. 

not afraid to go after what she wants !! ambitious academically and romantically thirsty !! she loves the adrenaline of the chase. when someone’s easy to get, she becomes bored. very bisexual and very proud of it. feminist as fuck nd part of a queer representation in the arts group which holds fortnightly meetings to discuss lgbt representation in film, literature, art etc.

old soul in a young person’s body. all the shit that has gone on has kind of aged her. she’s quite cynical about everything now. always smoking smoking smoking. very edie sedgwick in that way.  little girls skirts bought for next-to-nothing at the market because she’s skinny enough to get away with it, barely long enough to cover your bum, and then the ugliest baggy sweater you’ve ever seen thrown over it.

likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramphone because “The Sound quality is Better” kfdsjj.

super into pop art and andy warhol. puts female friendships above everything but at the same time, would fuck her best friends man

her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk.

aesthetics:

a bubble of pink gum on chapped lips, mom jeans, a beaten up pair of adidas, denim jackets, strawberry laces, knee-highs, chapped lips, peeling sticky plasters, split knuckles, bruises you try to cover with concealer, stick and poke tattoos, hot coffee, sleep caught in your eyes on a lazy afternoon, kissing girls, cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, leonine arch of your back and that stellar smile that says ‘you have no idea who you’re dealing with’, a rucksack permanently packed for the move, a streak of red across your lips, 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 mom wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, his name scrawled in rage across the pages of a diary, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, 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.

wanted plots

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sports rivalries ! sporting friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!! 

since greta literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships

 girls from the cheer team who she’s like, weirdly intimate with like the shower together but its not a Thing cos the other girls straight !!! what do u mean !! aha just fun !

and I want like, fellow criminology students who are like?? how is this bitch still passing?? i swear she goes out every night?? 

she works part time at a fast food restaurant, i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry. 

ppl she did a few modules with ie. art history, bio-med, film studies, before changing course and somehow sort of remaining in touch with

 ppl who she runs track with. 

someone she’s trying to make a zine with. 

here’s a list of plots on her old blog if u want any of them w her.

would love plots of any type, throw them all at me please, i cnt wait to interact w all of u. like this if u want me to message you about connections / plots! xo

full biography if u can be bothered

trigger warnings: drugs, domestic abuse, gun.

you never meant for it to happen. you’d heard the stories, of girls who let their man walk all over them, and thought to yourself “i’ll never be one of those girls…” the kind that eat low-fat yoghurt and drink slim fast to shred a few extra pounds because he said she was getting round in the tummy, or the ones who spent their evenings tied to a kitchen sink drinking wine while him and the boys played poker, wishing god, if only I could get out of here. not you, not you raised by strong women, four bright shining beacons. single mother with her hard-as-nails attitude and her stony glares, elder sisters (twins) one ginger, one blonde, one doctor, one lawyer, both determined to take a bullet to the brain and a hammer to the patriarchy before they let a man touch them without asking. you were always so inferior, so insecure and small, like a bird (like a sparrow) with blonde plaits down your back sucking tropicana whilst your busom buds sucked dick, their lips permanently ripe with stories of their sexual exploits, fake tan and glittered nails whilst you sat in the unbroken egg of virginity wondering what it was like to be loved. one day you found out.

lily milligan’s parents gone and a free house for the night, bottles of ouzo and tequila swiped from your mother’s liquor cabinet thinking she wouldn’t know (she always knew) your legs, hardened from pep squad, slut dropping on a kitchen table because the boys thought it would be fun to get the quiet girl drunk. you’d never had a sip before that night. band t-shirts, denim shorts and the split soles of rotten converse that you refuse to let go of, you still clutched with both hands to your youth, but in a tube top now (borrowed from alice carmichael who had a sister in college) and a short tennis skirt, your feet not in trainers but in thigh-high boots. uncomfy as hell but lily said you needed to look sexy. you didn’t know if you wanted to be sexy. you didn’t know what kind of girl you were, if you were even a girl at all. but robbie looked at you like he knew exactly who you were, like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and his lips had the pink cupid’s bow of a movie star, and his hair was dark locks, curling like a mane. his hands were soft, and suddenly on your waist, and after three more shots his lips were on yours and his name was the only sound in your head and on your lips as you lost it in lily’s college sister’s bedroom beneath the glare of a T-Pain poster. you bled for what seemed like hours, his hand still in yours, kissing on the sofa as truth tellers and dare devils continued to spin a bottle of unprecedented youth. you thought it was love. robbie was the one. he loved you, you knew it, how else could someone be so soft? but soon he grew bored, scrunched up your paper heart and set it alight. then came the tears, the hatred, the ‘fuck robbie, in fact, fuck all boys.’ and that you did.

you were known for being easy. any boy could be yours for a night, as long as he promised to love you for those few short breaths and pants before you cried yourself to sleep. you felt poisoned, but poisonous as well, as if by ensnaring these young boys you were gaining power over them, and not the other way around. soon it started to work. they’d want more, but you’d deny them it, sick of sucking off silly schoolboys, they’d call you a tease, a vixen. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help but want older men. you got the history teacher first time, him bending you over his desk to sneak a hand up your tennis skirt as the after-school clubs carried on next door, unawares. love didn’t exist, not for you. it was nothing but a game for pretty young girls to play, bubble gum in their canines and a hand tugging at the hem of their cheer skirt.

there was so much anger inside of your small body, ‘beware of boys and their hook-like words’. hockey helped. there was something formidable about the feeling of a stick like a weapon in your hands and the thwack it made against thighs in the heat of a scrum - “slipped, sorry!” - you’d utter with a snakeskin smile, millicent quinn knowing that you’d hit her on purpose because she shagged robbie at that party last week. she couldn’t prove it, cobbled acne on her forehead turning green with disgust. ben came into your life like a car crash. two years your senior, with a baseball jacket and shoulders like a god. he became your personal hero. on the pitch, he was lethal. together, you could bring anyone to their ruin. each day after last period he’d be waiting in his car. you’d leap into his arms like a girl-half starved, love me, love me, love me, your heated kisses the envy of every junior girl. he was yours for three blissful years, utterly yours, and you were his, his star-spangled girl, and he was your knight - you were both the same, playing games, always difficult to predict. it was a shock to all when he proposed, high-school sweethearts find love in south dakota.

the engagement was a bittersweet affair; three months – you barely out of your gingham print skirts and into a graduation gown, him, a surly quarterback towering above your sisters, cigarette at his lips and a scowl like a fart in a lift. they hated him. so did you. but you were eighteen and in love, and he fitted the cookie cutter mould. everyone wanted him, and you had him. you had him and you were happy, happy, happy, and he loved you. he said he’d give you the world, anything you wanted hand-picked and given to you. instead, he gave you a jack russell terrier and a flat you couldn’t swing a cat in, wallpaper peeling like the rotten bits inside of you, the bits that only he knew. and you got tireder and tireder of the sad excuse of a life he’d picked out for you, him out doing god knows what to pay the bills, and you dancing on tables to pave your way to stardom, and this was love, this was real, until the shine wore off and your fresh-faced, dimple-cheeked cheerleader facade faded and the ugliness started to reveal itself, the whining, the petulance, the sharp-tempered cruelty, the mind games, the need to always win, win, win. he was dull, he was boring, he was nothing like the boy the girls had said he was and no chiselled six pack could hide his lack of anything remotely interesting, your patience wearing thin until it snapped like rubber, a rucksack on your back, running shoes on your feet and the joint bank account emptied into your eighth grade birthday wallet.

you built your small fortunes working the casinos of sioux falls, a crimson dress and an attitude to match. bookish archie with his little dipper freckles was fun for a month, before he became just as dull and dreary as the rest. a three hour bus and you were in minneapolis, bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh meat ready for the pickings. a hostel here, a friendly co-worker’s sofa there as you made what you could by taking off your clothes and shaking your ass like you were back in pep squad, doing what you did best. you met your fair share of creeps, and soon it was back on the road to escape a wide-eyed stalker and a restless itch for more. milwaukee, chicago, you made the roads your own. log cabins and lodgings, and the occasional motel, a beaten up pick up truck purchased at a scrap merchants – you got a few miles out of it before it bit the dust, and when you finally set it alight after nights spent lounging across the driver’s seat, a parka tucked over you as a duvet, you were sad to see it go. you’re nomadic by fault, never attaching to place, people or things, creating a new personality in every place you go like a character actress; each town is a different repertory theatre, and you’re the star. a compulsive liar, you even fib about your own name, to some you’re ellen, nineteen, bookish, a law student who likes smoking and cosmos. to someone else you’re rita, you’re twenty five and look young for your age, like smoking, comics and fucking in public places.

in the bright lights of michigan, you found charlie, sweet charlie, too good for you, though you let him spoil you while he thought you were the small town girl of his dreams. next came abigail, who was fun until the jealously kicked in, and then luke, gorgeous luke, dangerous, exciting, who despite his temper, despite the fights, despite bruises down your spine and your teeth marks on his arms, loved you with the strength of a wild fire. there was destruction in your wishbones, a savageness from the field, from the pitch and now somehow in his arms, you were godly. he was cruel, he was careless, and he refused to fall at your feet like so many other boys had, which only you made you want him all the more. you were rage incarnate. you hated him so fiercely you thought you might kill him, so he played the only card you wouldn’t predict; proposed.

the house you shared was a backstreet flat in detroit, you making your name as a downtown singer while he footed the bill with pills. they had a drug for anything these days, to dull the senses, to pick them up, to drive you to insanity or pull you out of the madness hole. the two of you lived like criminals on the run (you never told him that you were, living out your days as the enigma he wanted you to be), you with your voice like caramel and fishnet legs. you were his and his alone until his hand was at your throat and the gun was in your hands screaming at him to stop, stop, stop, until a bullet stoppered his brain, crimson staining linoleum as you cast yourself out like lucifer. self defence was decreed the moment they saw your violet neck, black tears and headlight eyes and mind screaming red, red, red like the pom-poms you shook so willingly in school and the insides of his skull. you were gone, and “you” was born, renamed “greta”, boxed, shipped-out, and next-day delivered to livingstone where under witness protection you were a student, blank slate, fresh-faced in a place where no one knew your name, doing what you always did and starting again.