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hardrainsfall · 2 years

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( aria shahghasemi, cis male, he/him ) isn’t that TAHER EFTEKHARI? truthfully, i’m surprised they’ve last this long considering they’re FACETIOUS, but i suppose them being GREGARIOUS evens it out. is that a fire axe they’re carrying ? i heard the twenty five year old is laying low as a trader for the library, while the apocalypse passes.

hellooo! my name is velouria (28, she/her, est) and this is your resident bob dylan stan and full time pocket prince, taher. he’s a trader and very talkative so i hope we’ll all have a bit of fun with him. im me on here or discord if you’d like to plot <3

content warnings: mentions of islamophobia and a (very) brief mention of 9/11, genetic disease/spinocerebellar ataxia, euthanasia/right-to-die

taher doesn’t remember much about his childhood in iran, but the memories he does have don’t resemble anything you’d hear on the news today (or rather, pre-apocalypse). he remembers that when they were living in their home country, the eftekharis were a happy and loving family, with no plans to leave. however, the eftekharis’ had to leave iran in 1998 for the sake of taher’s grandmother, who was suffering from spinocerebellar ataxia, in order to get her admitted into the mayo clinic in rochester, minnesota.

the eftekhari family settled down in saint paul, minnesota, as it was the best place for taher’s parents to find a new job and still close enough for frequent visits to the mayo clinic. while the neighborhood they emigrated to was a relatively upper class area, and had a small pocket of fellow iranian families, the eftekharis weren’t as fortunate as their neighbors. despite their meager savings and later salaries, farhad and simin worked hard to provide for taher and later, his little sister laleh. they certainly didn’t have as much as their neighbors (or as much as their neighbors pretended to have), but they made sure their children would grow up comfortable.

his childhood in saint paul was quite quaint, playing peewee hockey and visiting the mall of america just once like any other minnesotan. it wasn’t easy growing up in post-9/11 midwest, but taher believes he got out of it rather unscathed. he grew up observant of his religion and though he’s distanced himself from all religion these days, especially after the outbreak, taher still considers himself muslim.

his grandmother, the reason why they moved to america, unfortunately progressed rapidly in her disease. by the time taher had entered middle school, his grandmother had lost nearly all motor functions and was restricted to a hospital bed full time. when his grandmother’s condition worsened, taher’s family and the hospital entered a lengthy battle over his grandmother’s right to die. though his grandmother signed a dnr, his father had power of attorney. taher doesn’t remember much about this period of his life, but his testimony in the case that his grandmother could follow him with her eyes (which, while not exactly untrue, was exaggerated for his father’s benefit) helped draw out the legal battle. eventually, his grandmother died naturally, but it’s instilled something in taher: tell people what they want to hear.

though his experience with his grandmother’s disease and death was traumatic, taher proved to have a great deal of resilience in him. even while the case was on-going, he was able to distract himself with a growing love of music, particularly with the music of bob dylan (fellow minnesotan!); practically from the moment he heard it, taher wanted to make his own music, constantly singing and banging spoons on pans in a childish effort to drum along with the song playing on the radio. by the time he was nine, he was taking guitar lessons, and taher chose it as his own personal instrument the second he started to strum. he joined the school band in middle school, playing the cymbals to please his parents, but he absolutely hated it and it didn’t follow him into high school. several little garage bands did, though. taher tried to start many bands with his friend, all with worse names than the last, but they never made it past the formation stage, only once making it to the battle of the bands (and losing).

while his buddies weren’t serious about the music, or at least not serious in the way taher wanted, he decided being a solo artist was a better fit. you can’t get mad at your bandmate for showing up late to practice if there’s no bandmate, right? when he graduated high school, he didn’t go off to college, instead deciding on making his passion for music his life. his parents were hesitantly supportive, on the condition that he went to community college to at least take a few music classes and some other classes to fall back on, which taher obliged as long as he didn’t have to pay for it.

the thing was, taher was actually good at music. a decent singer (in a grumbly, bob dylan-way), a good guitar player, he favored covers over original songs but he played them well. teenage boys wanting to be rock stars is as common as breathing, and taher, while good at music, wasn’t truly anything special. all the famous (not necessarily good, but famous) people were getting attention on social media, so taher tried that too, but agents never came a-knockin’, and taher was ready to give up and follow his father’s advice on focusing on a real career.

just when he was ready to give up, he found a flyer for a guitarist wanted; while he vowed never to join a band again, he was desperate, and he texted the number on the paper to get more information. after an audition or two, taher was part of the band, but not in any way in control of it; he was just a replacement guitarist, a little backup vocals here and there, but he was (mostly) fine with it as long as he got to keep playing music. the band was much more popular than taher had ever been, doing gigs across the country, even opening for some prominent singers, when things came to an end in los angeles, california.

the band didn’t die or end, they just kicked taher out. sick of his pretentious attitude and fuckboi ways, they abandoned him in the city after a blowout fight. he expected his parents to send him money for a flight back home, but farhad was irritated with his son’s increasingly entitled behavior, and they left him to rot until he could pay his own way back home.

the band didn’t die then, but it wouldn’t have any chance to take off with the outbreak occurring only a few months later. taher had settled into working as a waiter at the same place he tortured with his music on open-mic fridays, sharing an apartment with three other musicians (though none of them were in any bands together) and dealing with a lot more abrasive, shocking displays of islamophobia since the election a few years before. he had ignored most of the hysteria over the virus, too busy thinking about himself and making as much money as possible, but it practically knocked on the diner’s door when it came to los angeles. taher escaped his workplace, making it home to his apartment and finding his other roommates holed up.

the roommates survived in the apartment for a good few weeks, but eventually they ran out of food and their heightened personalities were clashing. taher and his roommate, alex, left for supplies and ended up never returning to the apartment building. they survived together for awhile, colliding with other bands of survivors occasionally, all searching los angeles for some sort of safe zone, but found nothing. he eventually lost alex on their travels, only to arrive on the doorstep of the central library days later.

the camp wasn’t nearly as established or thriving as it is today, but they quickly accepted taher behind their doors so he wouldn’t get eaten and die. that was around the end of september 2019, so he’s been part of the library for the long time. he’s seen the camp go through changes, people that come and go, people that have died. while he seems like an unlikely person to survive, it’s mostly thanks to living behind the library walls—except for when he leaves to trade supplies. if taher has a talent besides music, it’s the gift of gab. he’s an expert salesman, and he’s built up a loyalty to the library camp, so he routinely risks his life to trade goods (and information) with anyone willing to entertain him for a few minutes. so far, he’s kept himself alive, though it’s only a matter of time before his mouth gets him into some trouble he can’t easily get out of.

wanted connections:

campmates— taher’s been part of the camp for four years now, so he’s bound to know your muse if you’re part of the library. whether they can tolerate his ass is up to you!

friends— while taher doesn’t... vibe with everyone, there’s a lot of people he does vibe with. i imagine he cherishes these friendships more than he’d like to let on, one of the few normal things that still exist in the apocalypse.

enemies— due to his uncanny ability to be an annoying little shit, there’s no doubt taher’s rubbed someone the wrong way in the los angeles area (or his own camp). maybe he traded some faulty shit to your muse, got that muse into trouble somehow, or he just said the wrong thing at the wrong time. there’s a lot of ways to go about this!

romantic or sexual partners— taher wouldn’t let a thing like the apocalypse get in the way of him getting laid lol. the problem is that he’s very fickle so while he may totally be in love with your muse one day, the next day he’s giving them the cold shoulder. luckily for him, it’s kind of easy to ghost your hookups when the world has ended.

ex-girlfriend or boyfriend— same as above, but they had an actual established relationship that ultimately ended. it can be for any reason, such as him being an asshole or anything else you’d like.

regulars— taher is a trader by trade, and i imagine he’s got established routes to make it easier to do his job. basically he’ll come by their home/general area where your muse is likely to be on any given day, shoot the shit, and see if there’s anything worth trading in your cache. they can either enjoy his little visits or find them tiring. up to you!

anything else you can think of :) message me on here or discord (wanda’s loving boy#1003) if you wanna plot!

#miseriaintro #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )#i'm tired af bc i woke up fifteen minutes before my alarm today #and then got to work and accidentally clocked in 30 minutes before my shift was to start... i could've been sleeping b*tch!!#anyways please love him and me thanks :)

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judesaves · 4 years

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it’s the middle of the night, but i’ll just plop down and say hello anyways! this here is my star-of-his-high-school-hockey-team-but-not-his-ahl-team, formally big fish in a huge ass pond, still-kinda-under-the-oppressive-influence-of-his-evangelical-dad hockey playing Good Boi Jude.

judah ‘jude’ ames (casey cott) who works as a cashier at the armory. he’s from thunder bay, ontario and lives in east vale. they’re ardent and optimistic but can also be vacuous and prudish. sometimes, they’re known as the sanctimonious.

my bio is super long so i apologize in advance, but here’s all you need to know abt judie the prudie!

full name / nicknames: Judah Seth Ames / Jude, Judie, J, the Bae From Thunder Bay age / date of birth: 27 / July 30th, 1992 place of birth: Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada previous residences / current residence: Sarnia, Ontario, Canada; Kitchener, Ontario, Canada; London, Ontario, Canada; Hershey, Pennsylvania; Chicago, Illinois; Des Moines, Iowa / Kingscrest, Colorado citizenship / ethnicity: Canadian (on a sports visa) / White (English, Danish, Dutch, German) religion: Lutheran socioeconomic status / political affiliation: Upper Class / Unaffiliated, but liberal leaning martial status: Single sexual & romantic orientation: heterosexual, hetero-romantic (he’s not questioned it, at the very least) education / occupation: high school graduate / cashier at The Armory

former teams / current team: Hershey Bears, Chicago Wolves, Iowa Wild / Kingscrest Knights position / shoots: Center / Right jersey number: #41 NHL draft: 79th overall, Washington Capitals professional playing career: 2010 – 2018

parents: Teresa Ames (mother), David Ames (father) siblings: Jared Ames (older brother by two years), Jacob Ames (younger brother by eleven years), Julianne Ames (younger sister by eleven years) offspring: none pets: family dog named Gretsky (German Shepherd), though he’s back in Thunder Bay

faceclaim: Casey Cott hair color / eye color: brown / pale green height / build: 5′11″ / athletic, muscular tattoos / piercings: none / none distinguishable features / scars: big lips, strong jawline / various bodily scars from hockey injuries over his lifetime dexterity: right handed known allergies: none visual impairment / hearing impairment: none / none nicotine use / drug use / alcohol use: no / no / socially

traits: confident, brawny, optimistic, playful, prudish, vacuous, arrogant, disapproving temperament: choleric alignment: lawful good enneagram: type one, the reformer mbti: ESTJ hogwarts house: gryffindor vice / virtue: pride / chastity likes / dislikes: hockey, the feeling of skates gliding on smooth ice, exercising, sleeping, cheesecake, snow, comedies, rules / montreal canadiens, partying, breaking his diet, the fear of never making it to the nhl, broccoli, phone calls from his father, westerns, soccer favorite media: to kill a mockingbird by harper lee (book), planes, trains, and automobiles (film), bob’s burgers (television show), tell her about it by billy joel (song) favorite color: blue

hockey has been a part of judah’s life for longer than he can remember. his first memories include the freezing solidness of the ice, the snug feeling of skates on his feet, the weight of a helmet upon his head. jude grew up believing he was born to play hockey, and really, he wasn’t wrong. a complete natural, despite hating it the first time his parents put him on the ice. a tantrum ensued, even though jared, his older brother and jude’s personal childhood hero, promised him it wasn’t scary and he was safe; he wanted to do everything jared did, but he wasn’t ready yet.

hockey wasn’t the only thing he was scared of. his father, david, taught his sons about hell before they were old enough to understand the concept. he taught them about sins. how fornication would damn you, how adultery would greet you with the devil, how doing anything wrong would leave you burning in hell forever. the list of things that were wrong to do, however, got longer and longer as his children grew, until doing anything but praying or playing a sport would condemn his soul. jude never heard his father say it, but he felt he was doing something wrong, something sinful when he cried and plopped down on the ice that day, begging for his brother to pick him up and bring him off the slippery ice.

his soul was saved after he turned five, when he got tired of watching jared play and wanted to join his older brother in the rink. the second time he laced up a pair of skates, at the tender age of five, jude fell in love. he finally fulfilled his purpose, or rather realized it. still so young, the local mini mite league not much more than toddlers standing around on the ice as the coaches uselessly tried to direct them on wobbly skates, little jude became fascinated with the sport. watching it constantly on the television, attending all of his older brother’s games, wearing all the leafs apparel his parents bought for him. their summers spent on roller blades playing with a toy goal set in the driveway, their winters spent freezing in the stands or skating on razor sharp blades.

as the minor leagues started raising up with age, so did the level of skills needed to play, and jude quickly proved to be a natural. the way he glided effortlessly, the way he turned on the hairpin edge of blades with ease, the way he listened and adhered to direction like a loyal solider. judah had memorized the rule book from front to back by the time he was nine, could spout off any definition or recall the minutiae details of a rule his own coaches had mostly forgotten, to the point of annoyance for his teammates and coaching staff. anyone could see that jude was going places, they could tell jude was going to make it.

but he wasn’t going to go as far as jared. jude paled in comparison to his older brother. for every rule he could recite like a sermon or puck he could hit squarely into the net, jared was faster, harder, stronger, better. he lived in jared’s shadow and what a well-lived in shadow it was. it didn’t matter how good jude was when jared was there, it didn’t matter if jude was a good player when jared was great… for a time.

the ames family added two more children, a pair of twins. jacob and julianne came into the world when jude and jared were eleven and fourteen respectively. even with two new babies in the house, the two older ames brothers were never distracted from their shared sport. their mother the focus of the childrearing, their father focused on rearing his two sons into hockey prodigies. loyal servants to the church of god and gretzky, the ames boys were good, they were righteous, they were perfect. perfect, how that word seemed to follow them. perfect, that was the ultimate praise from their father, when they followed the letter of jesus or their coaches. the fear of disappointing their father was the fear of going to hell. they had to be the best, they had to be perfect, they had to be righteous if they were going to make it.

the foundation of their perfect little family started to crack once jude was headed into peewee. the pressure from their father a fixture that had known for their entire lives, the pressure that kept them perfect, jared finally bent underneath that weight. his playing, while always more fast-paced and fierce than jude’s, got sloppier and less dignified. his hits were less than clean, his gloves dropped more than they didn’t, his pucks still landed in the goals but their passes to get there were dangerous. if that didn’t piss off their father enough, jared would stay out later, would go to parties on school nights, would refuse to go to church. i’m the bad one now, judie, so you don’t have to be, jared whispered to him once on a drive back from practice but jude didn’t understand what his brother meant.

jude was never in danger of being the bad one. the meek one, yes, the quiet one or the shy one, but he was never bad. his behavior, his playing, it was barely less than perfect. as jared’s star started to diminish (in their father’s eyes, at least, since jared only got more popular at school the more he partied), focus started to turn on jude. david’s focus, namely. david started taking jude out for hot chocolate after practices, ice cream parlors after winning a game. david wouldn’t let jude end up like jared, he wouldn’t let jude go down the same road of sin his older brother walked down. jared was still a good player, yes, or rather he still played well, but he wasn’t perfect anymore. jared was getting worse, jude was only getting better.

even if jared proclaimed that he was willingly taking the heat off of jude, a rift started to grow between the two. people were starting to praise jude more, talk about him more, talk about how good he was getting. the shadow that jude lived in was starting to shift, others were starting to notice him. judah ames, just a boy of fourteen, was the one the parents of his teammates would point out, the one they’d beg their children to hang out with in case his discipline and skill would rub off on them. his thoughts were only occupied with hockey, every dream he had was just reliving old games or planning for future ones. everything related to it, no matter if he was looking for a connection or not. hockey was the only personality he had.

who could blame him, though? with the way his father yelled from the stands, often yelling louder than the coach. with the way his father dropped him off promptly before practice began and picked up him not a second after it ended. as the reins on jared were forcibly loosened, the reins tightened on jude and david promised himself and god that he’d never let judah seth ames go. they moved across ontario with every minor team jared or judah joined, though they always considered thunder bay to be their home. as jude became more disciplined, more refined in his playing, jared got worse, got messier, to the point that he was considered the goon of their team. the two ames boys, once both considered perfect, once identified by the order of their birth, were now classified by good or bad, clean or dirty, pure or sinful.

seventeen, the year in every hockey player’s life that things start to change. the nhl just a dream for them, it becomes more realized as the draft starts to tick down and loom over them. jared, playing badly and antics getting more dramatic as their father focused more on jude, felt his dream slipping from him fast. the scouts eyes, once glued to him at every game they attended, drifted to his little brother now. not even old enough to drink, jared ames was quickly becoming a has-been, before he ever really was something. the boy everyone thought was going to make it didn’t even make it to the draft. jared ames quit playing hockey at the age of nineteen.

judah wouldn’t end up like that, though. david ames promised that to his son and any other parent in the stands that still bothered to listen to his ramblings. judah ames was going to make it. he was perfection, on the ice and off it. most boys, even boys on the same team, were interested in girls, lots even had girlfriends. jude was interested, but he wasn’t allowed to be. boys like that were sinful, they were wrong, they were bad. jude wasn’t allowed a girlfriend, wasn’t even really allowed a friend. everything in his life revolved around hockey, even church as david led prayers for victory before every game. there wasn’t time to think about girls, to think about anything else. even studying was secondary, his grades were only required to be strong enough to let him play every game; the only part of his life that didn’t require perfection.

while jared struggled underneath the pressure, jude endured it, even flourished underneath it. an amazing player, not just in the way he shot and hit and skated, but in his attention to detail and rules. some even said he’d be the next sidney crosby, but jude wouldn’t let himself get intimidated by the comparison. he was good, but he wasn’t that good. he wasn’t perfect, not yet. the comparison he hated was the one to his brother, the older boys on the team that had played with jared before his retirement called jude ‘the replacement’. he hated that word, replacement, even more than the word perfect. his father didn’t help, telling him how he’s so much better than jared ever was, how jude was going to be the one to make it all the way to the top, like it was guaranteed.

the time for jude’s draft started nearing quickly as he entered his senior year of high school. the pressure from his father and his coaches got heavier as the date neared, even his brother (now living in an apartment back in thunder bay) contributing to the worry and excitement. always a dream of his, to make it to the majors, jude finally felt the cracking his brother before him felt. calm and collected on the ice, jude only felt anxiety when he left it every night. his dreams, usually filled with scenes of play, now only showed him a future where he’d end up exactly like jared. he had to make it to the nhl, he needed to make it there, he needed to be good, he needed to be perfect.

the draft finally only days away, jude worked tirelessly in the rink to keep his mind off of it. what if he didn’t get picked? what if he ended up like jared, not even making it to the draft? what if he hated the team he got picked for? oh god, what if he was drafted to montreal! his worries not helped by his father that only ever wanted to talk about the draft, jude spent those last few days wishing he never laced up his skates again that one winter day when he was five.

the draft came in a bubble of excitement and fear. finally the one thing he’d been waiting for his whole life was here. feeling like his stomach was going to cave in on itself, he nearly missed it when his name was finally called. the hershey bears, the ahl affliate of the washington capitals. not exactly what he wanted, preferring something in canada, but not too far from home and not too warm. in the end, jude was just excited to play the sport he loves. he was excited to make it to the draft, unlike his older brother. he was excited to be one step closer to the nhl. most of all, he was excited to be away from his father.

the excitement didn’t last long, however. well, it didn’t last forever. traded from the bears after a year, jude ended up being traded to the chicago wolves at the age of twenty two, settling in for most of his career in the minors. he was still a great player, but the professional leagues are all filled with great players, and he was already beginning to feel like an adult among children when his new teammates after every draft seemed to be getting younger and younger. by the time he was twenty five, jude knew he would likely never make it to the nhl, but he refused to acknowledge it. his father half-held belief in his son, and half-berated him for not yet making his nhl debut; every time they needed a spot filled for a game or two, they called someone else up, and jude had to explain to his father why exactly he wasn’t the best on his team, why the coaches didn’t notice him like they should’ve. the love of the game only carried him so far, and the yearning to be on a major professional team slowly turned to bitter regret. he couldn’t wonder why the ahl wasn’t enough for his father, why it’s not perfect, when he’s convinced of the same.

jude knew that if he wasn’t going to make it by now, he’d never make it to the nhl. traded after a few good years with the wolves, jude moved to iowa and played with the wild for only a season before he decided it was time to retire professionally. he was a star that had diminished, he was just another good player on an okay team, and soon he wouldn’t even be remembered by anyone. deciding not to renew his one year contract with the wild, jude went back to thunder bay, and quickly regretted moving back in with his parents on two fronts: he missed hockey, and he did not miss his father’s rants.

while his father’s influence lessened from distance and time apart, it was back in full force once he was under their roof again. while he was no longer concerned about staying pure and righteous (partying with hockey players barely out of their teens tends to do that), the thoughts that he was wrong, dirty, sinful started to creep back in. he was not just dirty from the sin of the outside world, he was dirty, stained, a failure. jude was not perfect, never was. just another failure, like his brother jared before him, it was a different sensation to be jealous when he was moping on the couch and watching as his younger brother jacob gathered his equipment in his bag and their father lectured jake about his sloppy skating last practice. he has never missed the pressure from his father before, and he can only hope that jake doesn’t crack underneath the weight now that their father’s hopes and dreams are on him.

after six months of tolerating his father and drifting aimlessly, missing his sport and hating it at the same time, he began to wonder if it was too late to sign that contract with the wild again. he called his own coaches when he knew his father was at his brother’s practices, begged to be signed again, but they told him what they already knew: he was twenty six years old, practically geriatric. there likely wouldn’t be a professional team to sign him, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t still play his beloved (and loathed) sport, and maybe keep a bit of hope alive in his heart that he might, one day, still make it. everyone in the hockey community knows about kingscrest, colorado. it practically generated out ice sports stars as quickly as thunder bay did, and if there was any way he could possibly be scouted for one more final time, it was there. barely letting his parents in on his plan, lest they try to talk him out of it (or worse, support with oppressive enthusiasm), jude made his way to colorado, where he’s been for a year now.

joining the knights, jude’s a mature player, and any hopes of being noticed or signed to any sort of professional team (god, how much he hated being in the minors, only to be begging christ to let him back on any team, even laval rocket) are kept secret and close to his heart. as far as his teammates know, he’s just an old guy enjoying the ice, reliving his glory days and being a stickler for the rules just as he did in peewee. the desire for perfection is something that he still feels, even if he tries everything in his power to avoid his father’s calls—lest he have to hear his father’s thoughts on the political landscape of america, despite being canadian, but jude already knows he’s not perfect. he knows that this is the end of the line, so he should milk it for everything it’s worth, but the thought of the future is even scarier. once he’s too old to play, his many injuries over the years finally catching up with his body, what else is there to do? once hockey’s gone, what will jude have left?

he’s not perfect, he’s not righteous, he’s not the next gretzky or crosby. but he did make it, even if it was not the nhl. he made it farther than his father or his older brother ever did. he’s free from his father, living by himself and by his own rules, playing the game he’s loved for twenty two years. shouldn’t that be good enough for him? shouldn’t that be perfect?

like every hockey player ever, hockey’s all he talks about. all he thinks about, really. like... constantly. i mean constantly. he really doesn’t have much of a personality outside of it, but it’s not really his fault bc he was taught to be like that by his father.

speaking of his dad. phew. major dad issues for this kid. the voice in his head is his father’s, not his own. has a lot of weird shame about the most random things, and some not-so-random things.

isn’t a virgin, but he acts like one, because he doesn’t want to seem dirty and #sinful, but he’s also just weird and awkward around women... and guys too. just everyone.

sweet but angsty. has a lot of regrets, but doesn’t like to talk about it much. hates being one of the older guys on the team, but he put himself there, and it’s like either be old af or not be on the team at all. doesn’t want to end up like his brother that quit just to sell cars back in the bay.

not actively religious, but still seems like a conservative good ol’ boy because he wears sweaters tucked in WITH a belt. not as innocent as he seems, but still pretty innocent and a little weird. wasn’t homeschooled but kinda seems like he was?

an encyclopedia of hockey rules and super annoying about it. will tattletale on you to the refs if he sees you Being Naughty on the ice, no matter what team you’re on. he’s good to have around if you wanna get an opposing player into the penalty box because if you alert him to it, he’ll go snitch immediately. love my goody two shoes!!

a sales associate at the armory, like half of the team. thinks it may make him look better to the coaches, but also just needs a job. his dad will only pay half, that’s right HALF!!, of his rent so jude works to catch up with that and have very little money on the side. whatever, he still gets to skate, so he should be happy. right? right?!

somewhat dumb, just because he was never encouraged to be smart by his father, just an obedient follower and an obsessive hockey player. can do simple math, but ask him about algebra and he’ll just get annoyed and walk away.

wanted connections:

fellow teammates: jude plays for the knights, so gimme good friends and better enemies! people he’s competitive with, people he helps/mentors, people he straight up can’t stand or people that can’t stand him.

figure skating friends (and enemies): jude has never been the figure skating type, but he thinks its pretty cool that they can do spins and stuff. he respects the artistry, but still feels a sort of competitiveness with them just from the nature of being two ice sports. so give me friends that he can cheer on, enemies he can roll his eyes at, etc!

just friends in general: he’s a pretty sad boi and very earnest, so he needs someone to chat with! either it can be superficial or maybe they’re close confidants, up to you. :)

roommates: jude rents an apartment in east vale, and while he’s used to being such a canadian WASP, he’s somewhat cut off financially from his parents and needs someone around to help pay the bills. plus he gets lonely at night! can’t sleep in an empty house!!

ex-girlfriend(s): jude’s only been in town for a year and a few months, but that’s enough time to date around. likely this relationship didn’t work out because jude has a lot of hangups about relationships and shame, and his body/sex in general, but there are probably other factors such as that he’s really obsessive about hockey and actually really, really bitter deep down. 22+

#fro: intro #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )#i didn't proofread this bc it's almost 4 am and i've been working on this for three hours lol #so i apologize for any typos!!

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hedonest · 4 years

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hey folks! i already introduced myself in the ooc blog but * ok go vc * here it goes again. i’m velouria (she/her, 26, est) and i’m supposed to be in school but lol, the world was like this was a bad year to get your shit together girl, try again later. anyways, here’s my first babe hector and the only thing you need to know is that he’s horrible. he’s a horrible, horrible, horny person and i hate him and you should hate him too. but here’s some more details:

content warnings: homelessness, crime, drugs, general bastardness

born in tulsa, oklahoma on november 13th, 1997, hector, surprisingly, came from the most normal suburban beginnings you could imagine. he had two parents, an older sister, dog, cat, and a hamster. he was a rather normal child, though he had a wild independent streak that only got worse as he aged. didn’t play very well with others and would only play simon says if he got to be simon, but was friendly and jovial with those he liked, or wanted something from.

stubborn as a mule, hector was fiercely independent and increasingly selfish. by the time middle school came around, hector created a hierarchy within his group of friends and became a bully around his school, though was more pushy than outright cruel. a very rowdy teen, hector never took anything very seriously and didn’t form attachments in a healthy sort of way, something that’s only worse instead of better now.

while he liked his family well enough, he never felt a strong bond with them. they loved him very much and would try to foster a healthy, loving relationship with him, he was like #nah and spent most of his time out of the house, never telling them what he was doing and where he was going. his father and sister gave up on him, but his mother still held out hope that it was just an incredibly long phase.

barely showing up to school even when it was mandatory, hector’s primary focus was on having a good time. that meant sex, drugs, and copious amounts of partying. scaring little old ladies, taking cars on joyrides. a petty criminal by the age of fifteen, hector has only been in trouble with the law a few times, spending a few weeks in county jail over the weeks but the charges have never stuck. (once he’s out, he’s off to some place new, but it’s only a matter of time before the law finally catches up to him and he’s inside for good.)

his parents didn’t have a chance to kick him out or send him to military school because he straight up bounced by the time he was seventeen. he left one day to a friend’s house and just didn’t come back; he went to a party in oklahoma city, and then just... never thought about going home. hector didn’t stay around okc for very long after that, drifting all over the southwestern states.

out on his own, or rather couch surfing with like-minded individuals, hector got to experience the highest points of pleasure and pain. a full blown hedonist, the only thing that mattered (and matters) to hector was fucking, fighting, stealing, and getting high. basically if you’ve ever seen the movies hellraiser or the doom generation, he’s a mix of frank cotton and xavier red.

though he’s moved around a lot since leaving home, usually staying in a city for three months or so before he’s moving on again, he’s made a bit of a home out of reno, nevada, frequently traveling between reno and las vegas. often just up and leaves without a word, then returns two weeks later as if nothing happened like a neighborhood cat. has spent the last five years or so grifting and lying his way into the hearts and homes of lonely old ladies (and men). infects your house with his presence, gets you to take care of him, and then bounces one night with most of ur silver and jewelry in his backpack.

though he’s not part of any sort of gang, he does revolve in organized crime circles, and mostly makes actual money by boosting cars for the mob in vegas. though he sometimes does ‘freelance’ work for organized crime syndicates and gangs, he’d never join one. hector vc: why have someone tell you what to steal when you can just do it? :)

which all brings him to charming, california. basically run out of town on a rail, he had to leave reno because he heard there was a warrant out for his arrest and lbr he’s pissed off way too many people in nevada. has only been in charming for three days (so far in canon), staying in the highway motel by way of a stolen credit card, but i’ll be putting out a wc for his benefactor; someone he’s conned into letting him stay in their house, putting on the sweet street kid act. don’t believe the act, but also please do.

the biggest thing to know abt hector is that he’s a horny dude. he’s literally always thinking about sex and the second he meets you, he’s thinking about fucking you, no matter how old you are (as long as it’s legal because gross and i would never rp that), if you’re in a relationship/married, or what gender you are. you could be totally into his schtick or think he’s disgusting, it don’t matter. will hit on you, because he knows no other way to interact with people.

tells you what you want to hear. lies as much as he breathes. honestly he’s barely aware of the lies he tells and can’t keep them straight. most of his stories sound like bullshit but a lot of them are true.

big drugs fan. loves him some k! who’s got the weed! shows up to random parties just to finagle his way into getting drugs for free, while also stealing a bunch of meaningless random shit. the one thing you can’t replace - john mulaney.mkv

y’all get it by now. he’s gross, he sucks, but gosh darn he’s got a cute lil face!

wanted stuffs:

i mentioned that i’m going to send a wanted connection to the main for hector’s new benefactor (though if your muse is a lonely older person, man or woman, that’s gullible then let me know!!) but here’s some plots stuff we can do

sexual partners: basically hector wants to bang everyone. if you’re up for it, he will fuck you at pretty much any time, but just know that he’s also fucking like five other people and has never been monogamous in his entire damn life.

a girlfriend: okay so i just said he’s never been monogamous but sometimes hector likes to pretend. or rather, he will start using her to get something, likely companionship when he’s bored or access to money/drugs/alcohol, whatever. a place to sleep at night. just something! she’ll probably think they’re more serious than they actually are but hector does actually like her as a person, or she’s trying to get him to be more serious/grow up. this one will occur over time bc he’s new!

enemies: hector is a hard person to like and an easy person to hate. he has very little regard for others and enjoys physical fighting bc it feels good. they can hate him because he screwed them over, cheated on them, cheated on their friend/sibling/whatever, stole something from them, or they just don’t like his smug face.

friends: if your muse likes to party, hector is your man. he basically just lives to have fun. however, his version of fun is kind of scary and dangerous at times. he can be a bad influence on your muse and get them into trouble or they can be a good influence on him.

a close friend/confidant: hector isn’t an emotional person but occasionally he does have moments of vulnerability. when this happens, your muse is the person he comes to when he needs someone to be there for him or needs someone to talk to. your muse could be doing this reluctantly or in hopes that he’ll be there in the same way for your muse, which isn’t very likely but hector will like to pretend lol.

or any connection we can think up!! message me on here or discord (wanda’s loving boy#1003) if you wanna plot!

#charming.intro #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )#this is long as shit i'm sorry

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playmebackwards · 4 years

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&. 【 sh, do you hear EVERY 1’S A WINNER by HOT CHOCOLATE playing ? that must mean ÁNGEL MOLINERO is coming, the 20/63 year old CISMALE that goes by HE/HIM, currently employed as a BOUNCER AT DEVIL’S BITE. they’re a VAMPIRE in oldgate for eh, i’d say about SEVEN MONTHS. tough luck, huh ? least they got their ASTUTE, DISCREET, CONDEMNATORY and INSOLENT stuff to fall back on. anyway, it’s best to get out of here. their ( brown hair that curls into spirals, a sneer paired with an eyeroll at the very idea of authority, glimpses of a young boy in the background of famous pictures taken in studio 54, a fashion sense that seems to have died along with disco—and himself ) vibe gives me the creeps !

trigger warnings: drug use/cocaine, gendered slur

born in 1956 in madrid, spain, as ángel jorge cola molinero, the cola family moved to america during the height of the projected american dream. they lived in the neighborhood of little spain in manhattan, a family of six, ángel being the second youngest. growing up a regular poor kid life in the late 50s/early 60s, ángel’s childhood was largely uneventful. his family struggled, they stuck together, they lived their lives. ángel doesn’t think upon his family or childhood overly fondly, it was just something he endured.

he graduated high school without much of a plan, intending to just work in his father’s tailor shop until he found something better to do. as he was just entering his twenties, a little music movement started gaining popularity called disco. many in his neighborhood were into the scene, so it wasn’t hard for ángel to get into it, too. and boy, he got into it. leisure suits, long hair with a mustache (well, as much of a mustache as he could grow), platform shoes, and a whole fuckton of cocaine.

in 1976, the heart of the disco era, ángel was spending more time in clubs than working at his father’s shop, coming home late in the morning and sleeping all day long. (fun fact? his disco name was ángel cola, but don’t you dare call him that now.) it was on one rather bland night, dancing and rubbing against nameless people and snorting anything he could get up his nose, ángel died on that bland night. he doesn’t remember much about that night, only that he was making out with someone when suddenly, they bit his neck (he didn’t mind, he could get kinky!) and then they didn’t stop biting his neck and then it was just black.

it was just black until he suddenly woke up in the ground. someone put him in there, then dug him out again, but ángel never got a look at their face. they killed him, they created him, they abandoned him. that maker-progeny bond, he learned what it was called much later, didn’t exist to him. vampires didn’t exist to him, he was left in utter confusion about his new life, only knowing that he was hungry.

he wandered home in a daze, even able to stay with them for a day or so, before that overwhelming need to feed took over. he left his family unharmed, returning to the clubs he frequented, when his new animal nature took over and he fed like a newborn mammal. on his own, ángel had to figure out the ways of his new species by trial and error. he virtually forgot about his human family, instead spending his nights on the streets, hunting for prey and dancing the night away.

as a vampire, as he quickly figured out what he was after remembering all those hammer horror dracula movies his older brother would drag him to watch just a few years ago, he learned just a few years ago can be anywhere from two years ago to thirty. 1976 quickly turned into 1979, and disco had died. ángel kept it alive, hanging on until the very last days. then, 1979 turned into a new decade, and the newborn status (while he’s still young, at 63 in human years, in the vampire community) started to shed away, he was becoming more mature. and with maturity came boredom.

the years blended together, ángel lurking in the night to feed himself and entertain himself, he seldom came into contact with other vampires. for a long time, he believed he was the only other vampire in the city, besides the one that made him, until he met others in their own hunt. they explained to him the ways of their life, the laws and the government and all that other shit, but he thought of it all as bullshit. he lived for two decades undetected, he wasn’t going to make some grand entrance into vampire society and have to live by rules.

living in relative peace, doing whatever he wanted for years on top of years, things changed when vampires came out of the coffin. ángel didn’t like this. he liked living in secrecy, he liked operating in the shadows, hunting for food, hunting for sport. now that vampires were common knowledge? there was no feeding for the sake of it. people knew about them, people wanted to protect themselves from vampires; his hunting pool got much, much smaller.

now that they were integrating into society, ángel couldn’t operate like he wanted to anymore, killing people from enjoying their blood too much brought attention and vampires didn’t want people to fear them anymore, or whatever the bitch from that council said. a nomad, he barely paid attention to what area he was in, but the sheriff in the area he was hanging around at the time basically said knock it off with the bites or die a true death. so, with no other purpose in life, ángel had to find one.

ángel never really thought much about his maker, only sometimes wondering who they were and why they decided to turn him instead of let him die, but with nothing much else to do, he began a search for his maker. that’s what brought him to oldgate seven months ago, gaining a bit of intel from another vampire that a maker known for abandoning their progeny like to float around the swamp lands. it’s a secret mission, ángel really does love secrets, slinking about and gathering information. at the very least, it passes the time.

he’s picked up a job at the devil’s bite as a bouncer to keep an eye on the vampire community, staying close to them without getting to know them, hoping someone says something that will give him a clue to the identity of his maker. it’s really the only thing that keeps him going; being close to his brethren, if he can deign to call them that, keeps the government close to him, too. he has to be on his best behavior, but ángel has never responded to authority well, even when he was human.

connections:

fellow vampires! since he works at a vampire bar and you basically can’t throw a rock without hitting another vamp in oldgate, ángel is closer to vampire society than ever before. give me vampires he hates, give me vampires he thinks are funny, give me vampires that might turn his thoughts on his fellow undead creatures. most of all, give me vampires in the government that ángel can roll his eyes at.

witches, werewolves, banshees, any other creature! because ángel is so isolated from most of the world, he’s rather unaware of other supernaturals. let him be surprised at someone changing form or doing something magic-y.

humans! ángel only thinks of people as sustenance, but since synthetic blood was created and vampires are supposed to be on their best behavior nowadays, and now that he’s living in an actual town with an actual job and residence, he’s closer to humans than he has been in forty something years. give him humans that nice to him even when he doesn’t deserve it, humans that intrigue him, humans that he wishes he can tear right into without the authority getting on his ass.

vampires or humans that recognize him from his little hellion days! he might’ve even killed someone’s family member? maybe they want to take revenge?

that’s just a few ideas but we can come up with something great together!

#fangfmooc #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )#i'm so hungry and need to go to bed soon so i'll answer ims later!!#also i'm not gonna proofread this i'm sry again

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visitedupon · 4 years

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* lies down on floor * FINAlly i’m here! things to kno abt me: rachel, 26, est, she/her, and idk how to shut the fuck up! you’ve probably seen sonny’s bio before but if you don’t want to read that brick wall of text, here’s what you need to know:

alison macclean, or sonny as pretty much everyone knows him, is a macclean first and a person second. if you’ve spent any bit of time in boot hill, you’ll know the maccleans are no good white trash drug dealers (* that’s only fearghas and gavin but YES sonny does have weed on him but he won’t give it to you. it’s for him.) there’s like 34239 of them, the only thing that distinguishes sonny from the rest is his red hair and freckles. (there’s paddy, eoin, fearghas, gavin, brian, courtney, then alison, then cian, and finally isla. rip eileen)

sonny is a bartender at the bucking horse saloon and you better hope he’s not tending bar when u go because he’s very grumpy and refuses to make mixed drinks. will refuse to serve you if you annoy him. people who drink cocktails are a nuisance in his life; it’s either whiskey or beer, choose wisely. basically runs it however he wants because he’s been working there since he was a teenager, so trying asking for the manager! you won’t get anywhere!

quiet, reserved. only really speaks when he wants to. has a very dry, sardonic humor that makes it hard to tell when he’s being serious or not. not so much mean as he is insecure. unfortunately, that makes people think he’s dumb. dirty maccleans and all that.

thinks he’s ugly bc of said red hair and freckles. #gingersdohavesouls. doesn’t have a lot of romantic history bc SOME girl (named kitty briar) sabotages any relationships he does have. thinks he wants 2 b loved but really just wants to smoke pot and bowl in peace.

a really good bowler. seriously, he takes it very seriously. he’s also good at pool and hustles newcomers when he can lmfao.

his momma’s errand boy. spends a lot of time chasing after his drunken father. has a very love/hate relationship with said father, either his dad is escaping his clutches or they’re at the coyote’s howl, hustling newcomers at pool and enjoying the rare few times when ewan can be fun drunk.

main caretaker of his younger siblings growing up, cian and isla. very protective of them, to the point he kinda-sorta dominates cian’s choices and stunts his sister’s development. he doesn’t mean to!! he’s just scared of losing them and tbh.. he has like 23428 older brothers, these two are his only chance to be a big brother.

a big snob abt villas adobes kids. thinks of them as rich people. also rude to newcomers bc he doesn’t trust them and thinks they look down on boot hill too much.

wanted connections:

roommates! sonny lives in a house midtown with about two-three people. be his buddy and live with him! he’s really not that bad of a roommate... mostly bc he’s rarely there lol.

friends! while sonny may be a big ol’ grumpy grump, he’s funny if you get used to his sense of humor and if he gets close to people, he cares abt them deeply. he went to parties a lot as a teen so if ur boot hill local was big into partying, they probably know each other through there. or they could be bowling friends lmao idk

enemies— people he refuses to serve at the bar bc he thinks they’re snooty or something. people that he used to get along with in high school but they had a falling out when he dropped out. people he’s hustled with his dad (#bonding). just anyone tbh! there’s a lot of reasons to dislike a macclean!!

ex-gfs— sonny doesn’t date often but he’s had a few girlfriends in his time?? and likely their relationships ended on bad terms bc he’s an idiot, doesn’t know what’s good for him! or maybe it was bad for both of them.

fwbs/ex-fwbs— sometimes a guy has needs!! alright

okay my brain is mush and i copied the last three bullet points in the wanted part from my last intro lmao so i’ll be floating around all night! message me on here or wanda’s loving boy#1003 on disco!!

#southbound:intro #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )

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dvilshaircut · 5 years

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( benjamin wadsworth + cis male + he/him ) / who’s that rustling through the trees? oh, it’s just you, HECTOR IBÁÑEZ. i happen to know that you’re a TWENTY TWO year old GROUNDSKEEPER at the LAKE CRESCENT CAMPGROUND. while you’re from TULSA, OKLAHOMA, you’re currently living in the REDWOOD APARTMENTS. i think that you’re CHARMING & ADAPTIVE but my mama says you’re HEDONISTIC & DISHONEST. is that FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT by BEASTIE BOYS currently playing on your spotify? well, turn it down please, you’re disrupting the peace. ( admin velouria + 25 + she/her + est )

hey i’m velouria!! i’m so happy y’all are here and i’m ready to get things going! this is my first child and first up, hector is a bad person. he is a bad, bad, bad, terrible, horny person. don’t think he’s good at all bc he’s not and i hate him and you should hate him too.

born in tulsa, oklahoma on november 10th, 1996, hector, surprisingly, came from the most normal suburban beginnings you could imagine. he had two parents, an older sister, dog, cat, and a hamster. he was a rather normal child, though he had a wild independent streak that only got worse as he aged. didn’t play very well with others and would only play simon says if he got to be simon, but was friendly and jovial with those he liked.

his parents didn’t have a chance to kick him out or send him to military school because he straight up bounced by the time he was seventeen. he left one day to a friend’s house and just didn’t come back. hector didn’t stay around tulsa for very long after that, drifting all over the southwestern states, most notably in reno, nevada in his late teens.

though he hung around reno the most, around two years, hector doesn’t like to stick around often. even when he was situated in places like reno, he often leaves without word to anyone and shows up again like a neighborhood stray cat.

which brings him to crescent lake. pretty much run out of reno for his terrible treatment of others and his criminal activity, hector traveled all over california before settling in crescent lake. though he didn’t really need to, he’s been laying low for just over a year now. he first took up residence at the camping grounds for a few weeks before he ran out of money and got a job at the resort as a groundskeeper to pay off his bill. it’s hard work but sometimes you gotta work a little so you can ball a lot. now he lives at the redwood with two roommates.

his debt is paid but hector likes it in crescent lake. it’s small but new people come through all the time, so he hasn’t gotten bored yet. plus he likes to be a big fish in a little pond, he can use people and control them better that way. he basically just coasts on his charm and curly hair.

wanted connections:

a girlfriend: okay so i just said he’s never been monogamous but sometimes hector likes to pretend. or rather, he’s using her to get something, likely companionship when he’s bored or access to money/drugs/alcohol, whatever. a place to sleep at night. just something! she’ll probably think they’re more serious than they actually are but hector does actually like her as a person, or she’s trying to get him to be more serious/grow up.

or any connection we can think up!! message me on here or discord (wanda’s loving boy#1003) if you wanna plot!

#axed.intro #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc.)

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vllygirl · 5 years

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beep boop it’s velouria again! this is my second child, dawnie:

( TIERA SKOVBYE | CISFEMALE ) You didn’t hear it from me, but it looks like DAWN ‘DAWNIE’ GARITY is moving in. I hear SHE is around 20 years old now and from ALTOONA, PENNSYLVANIA. They can be kind of +CHEERFUL and +PERSEVERING, but also kind of -IRRITATING and -CAPRICIOUS. I hope their title as the VALLEY GIRL keeps things interesting.

possible trigger warnings: abortion (just one paragraph)

born july 14th, 1962 in altoona, pennsylvania.

the first born and eldest daughter of robert and joyce garity.

grew up in a somewhat affluent area. very suburban and small, pretty conservative and definitely White Bread.

a very bubbly and sweet child, dawnie grew up pretty sheltered and within the catholic church. grew up thinking anyone who dressed Differently was weird and shouldn’t be trusted.

as she grew up, dawnie ignored the teachings of her parents and their church. pretty much ran up to anything interesting without checking if it was dangerous first. she was pretty much friends with everyone, no matter their social class or race or religion, though she definitely stuck with her own clique.

after high school, she opted to stay home instead of college (because her family didn’t have the money) and begin working at the mall in a department store makeup counter.

just a teen during the disco era, she was very much into the music and bright colors of the scene, but since she was just in small suburb of a small city, she really only got a taste of it through vinyls and movies. had a bit of a shock after watching saturday night fever bc it’s really not a... happy movie lmao.

when disco died, she seamlessly transitioned to pop music/peppy new wave.

what else died? her parents love for her. in the fall of last year, dawn fell pregnant by her high school boyfriend. when she told her parents about it, they were ashamed and disgusted. despite their own catholic views, they pressured her into getting an abortion. she went to her boyfriend scott’s house, thinking he’d want to get married and raise the child with her. instead, he told her he’d never marry her or take care of her bastard child. because of that, she went through with the abortion. rejected by scott and disgusted by her parents for what they did, dawnie hopped on a bus to anywhere.

that bus to anywhere took her to new york city. with nowhere to stay or go, dawn pretty much had a panic attack on a bus station bench, sobbing loudly, half trying to convince herself to go back home, half trying to convince herself to stay. she captured the attention of a girl on the same platform. the girl, for some reason, sat beside dawnie and calmed her down. after immediately telling her entire life story, the girl took pity on dawnie and took her back to her home: the pit.

only intending on sleeping on the couch for a few days, those days turned to weeks and now months. dawnie’s officially paying rent after getting a job at a local thrift store. so that’s how a valley girl ended up at the pit.

about the valley girl thing? not actually from california but looks like she could be. talks like she could be, too. gag me with a spoon!

loves the color pink and doesn’t feel complete without her blue eyeshadow on.

never really listened to punk before coming to the pit. the longer she stays at the pit, the more new wave her look and attitude becomes. really enjoys david bowie, blondie, kate bush, and siouxsie and the banshees since moving in but she’s still pretty pop in her music. loves the go-gos, donna summer, duran duran, culture club, adam ant, the human league, laura branigan, bonnie taylor, and pat benatar.

even if disco is dead, she’s still a diehard abba fan. also really enjoys dolly parton even tho she hates country music.

still very bubbly and sweet like when she was a kid, which can get really annoying with hardcore punks. she’ll befriend anyone and keep bothering you until you tell her to really fuck off, then you’ll become enemy number 1 and be attacked with so many pouts and hurtful stares from across the room!!

still too afraid to go to a punk show. stays up in the loft or just straight up leaves if there’s a show going on in the swimming pool.

like i said on etan’s, we can chat here or on disco! wanda’s loving boy#1003 !!

#hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc.)#punk:intro

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sycphant · 4 years

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tag . ☆ drop !

aesthetic . ☆ a kiss in the dreamhouse ! answers . ☆ there’s a girl who says love never dies ! body . ☆ my thighs are gnawed with love ! development . ☆ feels good to be a rose ! edits . ☆ here we’ll find the constellation of the heart ! games . ☆ i won’t open boxes i am told not to‚ i am not a pandora ! keepsakes . ☆ i want to be the girl with the most cake ! mail . ☆ you don’t need words‚ just one kiss ! mannerisms . ☆ she smiles like mardi gras ! muse . ☆ it’s a hideous trait on her mother’s side ! radio . ☆ music to watch boys to ! rumors . ☆ you should hear how she talks about you ! wanted . ☆ i could easily change my mind about you ! wardrobe . ☆ l’amour looks something like you ! visage . ☆ the châtelaine of all this decay ! ship . ☆ tag ! au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue! hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. ) arc › threads. / arc › muse. / muse › 001.

#aesthetic . ☆ a kiss in the dreamhouse !#answers . ☆ there’s a girl who says love never dies !#body . ☆ my thighs are gnawed with love !#development . ☆ feels good to be a rose !#edits . ☆ here we’ll find the constellation of the heart !#games . ☆ i won’t open boxes i am told not to‚ i am not a pandora !#keepsakes . ☆ i want to be the girl with the most cake !#mail . ☆ you don’t need words‚ just one kiss !#mannerisms . ☆ she smiles like mardi gras !#muse . ☆ it’s a hideous trait on her mother’s side !#radio . ☆ music to watch boys to !#rumors . ☆ you should hear how she talks about you !#wanted . ☆ i could easily change my mind about you !#visage . ☆ the châtelaine of all this decay !#au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue!#hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )#wardrobe . ☆ l’amour looks something like you !

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hedonest2 · 4 years

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TAG ! / drop .

DOORS TO THE PLEASURES OF HEAVEN OR HELL‚ I DIDN’T CARE WHICH ! / aesthetic . HIS POINT OF VIEW IS THIS : TAKE WHATEVER YOU CAN GRAB ! / answers . NOTHING I CAN SAY WHEN I’M IN YOUR THIGHS ! / body . THERE’S A DOG IN YOUR HEART & IT TELLS YOU TO TEAR EVERYTHING APART ! / development . THEY DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS PANORAMIC ! / edits . I’M NOT GONNA LIE‚ I’LL NOT BE A GENTLEMAN ! / games . I WANT TO BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS ME ! / keepsakes . MAKE YOUR DRESS ALL WET & SEND IT TO ME ! / mail . FLICK YOUR CIGARETTE‚ THEN KISS ME ! / mannerisms . I WAS BORED BEFORE I EVEN BEGAN ! / muse . DO YOU LIKE AMERICAN MUSIC ? / radio . SUCH THINGS I DO JUST TO MAKE MYSELF MORE ATTRACTIVE TO YOU‚ HAVE I FAILED ? / rumors . WHEN I WOKE UP TONIGHT I SAID I'VE GOTTA MAKE SOMEBODY LOVE ME ! / wanted . START WEARING PURPLE FOR ME NOW ! / wardrobe . WON’T YOU PLEASE FAWN OVER ME ? / visage . TAG ! / ship . au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue! hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. ) arc › threads. / arc › muse. / muse › 001.

#DOORS TO THE PLEASURES OF HEAVEN OR HELL‚ I DIDN’T CARE WHICH ! / aesthetic .#HIS POINT OF VIEW IS THIS : TAKE WHATEVER YOU CAN GRAB ! / answers .#NOTHING I CAN SAY WHEN I’M IN YOUR THIGHS ! / body .#THERE’S A DOG IN YOUR HEART & IT TELLS YOU TO TEAR EVERYTHING APART ! / development .#THEY DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS PANORAMIC ! / edits .#I’M NOT GONNA LIE‚ I’LL NOT BE A GENTLEMAN ! / games .#I WANT TO BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS ME ! / keepsakes .#MAKE YOUR DRESS ALL WET & SEND IT TO ME ! / mail .#FLICK YOUR CIGARETTE‚ THEN KISS ME ! / mannerisms .#I WAS BORED BEFORE I EVEN BEGAN ! / muse .#DO YOU LIKE AMERICAN MUSIC ? / radio .#SUCH THINGS I DO JUST TO MAKE MYSELF MORE ATTRACTIVE TO YOU‚ HAVE I FAILED ? / rumors .#WHEN I WOKE UP TONIGHT I SAID I'VE GOTTA MAKE SOMEBODY LOVE ME ! / wanted .#START WEARING PURPLE FOR ME NOW ! / wardrobe .#WON’T YOU PLEASE FAWN OVER ME ? / visage .#au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue!#hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )

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testvelouriatheme · 4 years

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— AESTHETIC / everything burned‚ as promised. — ANSWERS / times are gone for honest men. — BODY / i’m just a ghost out of his grave. — DEVELOPMENT / i still claim i am not the bad guy. — EDITS / a frame filled with broken glass. — GAMES / you got to promise not to stop when i say when. — KEEPSAKES / this pain is yours. — MAIL / he would have called himself a wolf‚ but he cannot speak. — MANNERISMS / i know i have shown that i stand at the gates alone. — MUSE / i am punishing the atoms‚ i am making an example of them. — RADIO / no one sings like you anymore. — RUMORS / as of now i bet you’ve got me wrong. — WANTED / our eyes are full of terrible confessions. — WARDROBE / to take off all my clothes involved a kind of flaying. — VISAGE / your neck is like an ivory tower. — MINNIE / tag. — SHIP / tag. au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue! hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. ) arc › threads. / arc › muse. / muse › 001.

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forlorned · 4 years

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tag ♡ drop .

heaven is a place where nothing ever happens ♡ aesthetic . you don’t want what you desire‚ says the dream ♡ answers . i inhabit the wax image of myself ♡ body . the lady’s feeling just like the moon that she loved ♡ development . here we’ll find the constellation of the heart ♡ edits . i won’t open boxes i am told not to‚ i am not a pandora ♡ games . a christmas gift of crystallized fruit ♡ keepsakes . you don’t need words‚ just one kiss ♡ mail . she smiles like mardi gras ♡ mannerisms . it’s a hideous trait on her mother’s side ♡ muse . a song of seeds‚ the food of love ♡ radio . you should hear how she talks about you ♡ rumors . i could easily change my mind about you ♡ wanted . the unendurable brightness of her own dress ♡ wardrobe . the châtelaine of all this decay ♡ visage . tag ♡ ship . au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue! hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. ) arc › threads. / arc › muse. / muse › 001.

#heaven is a place where nothing ever happens ♡ aesthetic .#you don’t want what you desire‚ says the dream ♡ answers .#i inhabit the wax image of myself ♡ body .#the lady’s feeling just like the moon that she loved ♡ development .#here we’ll find the constellation of the heart ♡ edits .#i won’t open boxes i am told not to‚ i am not a pandora ♡ games .#a christmas gift of crystallized fruit ♡ keepsakes .#you don’t need words‚ just one kiss ♡ mail .#she smiles like mardi gras ♡ mannerisms .#it’s a hideous trait on her mother’s side ♡ muse .#a song of seeds‚ the food of love ♡ radio .#you should hear how she talks about you ♡ rumors .#i could easily change my mind about you ♡ wanted .#the unendurable brightness of her own dress ♡ wardrobe .#the châtelaine of all this decay ♡ visage .#au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue!#hold your horses honey. i've got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )

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hardrainsfall · 2 years

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— tag / drop .

— aesthetic / will nature make a man of me yet ? — answers / the world is ruled by violence but i guess that’s better left unsaid . — body / here’s your throat back‚ thanks for the loan . — development / i’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard . — edits / pictures in a box at home‚ yellowing and green with mold . — games / you've got to promise not to stop when i say when . — gifts / beauty walks a razor’s edge‚ someday i’ll make it mine . — introspection / well‚ who doesn’t want the sun after the long winter ? — mail / i survive everything and my punishment for opening my mouth is the sequel . — mannerisms / i seem always to arrive at the edge of something and then fall off . — radio / stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before . — rumors / i know i was wrong when i said it was true . — wanted / scratch your name on my arm with a fountain pen . — visage / you look like an angel sleeping it off at a station . — ship / tag . au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue! hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. ) arc › threads. / arc › muse. / muse › 001.

#— aesthetic / will nature make a man of me yet ?#— answers / the world is ruled by violence but i guess that’s better left unsaid .#— body / here’s your throat back‚ thanks for the loan .#— development / i’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard .#— edits / pictures in a box at home‚ yellowing and green with mold .#— games / you've got to promise not to stop when i say when .#— gifts / beauty walks a razor’s edge‚ someday i’ll make it mine .#— introspection / well‚ who doesn’t want the sun after the long winter ?#— mail / i survive everything and my punishment for opening my mouth is the sequel .#— mannerisms / i seem always to arrive at the edge of something and then fall off .#— radio / stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before .#— rumors / i know i was wrong when i said it was true .#— wanted / scratch your name on my arm with a fountain pen .#— visage / you look like an angel sleeping it off at a station .#au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue!#hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )

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campmurderparty · 5 years

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☆ a kiss in the dreamhouse ! / AESTHETIC . ☆ what’s a girl to do ? / ANSWERS . ☆ all a tremulous heart requires ! / BODY . ☆ girls just want to have fun ! / GAMES . ☆ write me your poetry in motion ! / MAIL . ☆ lovelorn victims laughing in cascades ! / MANNERISMS . ☆ the soul cries out‚ hear a woman singing ! / MIXTAPE . ☆ it’s a hideous trait on her mother’s side ! / MUSE . ☆ you should hear how she talks about you ! / RUMORS . ☆ i’ll be the lily of the valley for you ! / WANTED . ☆ l’amour looks something like you ! / WARDROBE . ☆ she smiles like mardi gras ! / VISAGE . queue are my queen rebecca! hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc.) arc › threads. / arc › muse. / muse › 001.

aesthetic. answers. body. games. mail. mannerisms. mixtape. muse. rumors. wanted connection. wardrobe. visage.

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hedonest · 4 years

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TAG ! / drop .

DOORS TO THE PLEASURES OF HEAVEN OR HELL‚ I DIDN’T CARE WHICH ! / aesthetic . HIS POINT OF VIEW IS THIS : TAKE WHATEVER YOU CAN GRAB ! / answers . NOTHING I CAN SAY WHEN I’M IN YOUR THIGHS ! / body . MY ONLY WEAKNESS IS A LIST OF CRIME ! / development . THEY DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS PANORAMIC ! / edits . I’M NOT GONNA LIE‚ I’LL NOT BE A GENTLEMAN ! / games . I WANT TO BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS ME ! / keepsakes . MAKE YOUR DRESS ALL WET & SEND IT TO ME ! / mail . FLICK YOUR CIGARETTE‚ THEN KISS ME ! / mannerisms . I WAS BORED BEFORE I EVEN BEGAN ! / muse . DO YOU LIKE AMERICAN MUSIC ? / radio . SUCH THINGS I DO JUST TO MAKE MYSELF MORE ATTRACTIVE TO YOU‚ HAVE I FAILED ? / rumors . WHEN I WOKE UP TONIGHT I SAID I’VE GOTTA MAKE SOMEBODY LOVE ME ! / wanted . START WEARING PURPLE FOR ME NOW ! / wardrobe . WON’T YOU PLEASE FAWN OVER ME ? / visage . TAG ! / ship . au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue! hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. ) arc › threads. / arc › muse. / muse › 001.

#DOORS TO THE PLEASURES OF HEAVEN OR HELL‚ I DIDN’T CARE WHICH ! / aesthetic .#HIS POINT OF VIEW IS THIS : TAKE WHATEVER YOU CAN GRAB ! / answers .#NOTHING I CAN SAY WHEN I’M IN YOUR THIGHS ! / body .#MY ONLY WEAKNESS IS A LIST OF CRIME ! / development .#THEY DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS PANORAMIC ! / edits .#I’M NOT GONNA LIE‚ I’LL NOT BE A GENTLEMAN ! / games .#I WANT TO BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS ME ! / keepsakes .#MAKE YOUR DRESS ALL WET & SEND IT TO ME ! / mail .#FLICK YOUR CIGARETTE‚ THEN KISS ME ! / mannerisms .#I WAS BORED BEFORE I EVEN BEGAN ! / muse .#DO YOU LIKE AMERICAN MUSIC ? / radio .#SUCH THINGS I DO JUST TO MAKE MYSELF MORE ATTRACTIVE TO YOU‚ HAVE I FAILED ? / rumors .#WHEN I WOKE UP TONIGHT I SAID I’VE GOTTA MAKE SOMEBODY LOVE ME ! / wanted .#START WEARING PURPLE FOR ME NOW ! / wardrobe .#WON’T YOU PLEASE FAWN OVER ME ? / visage .#au revoir les enfants! that means fuck queue!#hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )

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playmebackwards · 4 years

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&. 【 sh, do you hear RIDE THE LIGHTNING by METALLICA playing ? that must mean JEANNINE 'JEANIE’ OH is coming, the 24 year old CIS FEMALE that goes by SHE/HER, currently employed as a CASHIER AT SUPER SAVE A BUNCH. they’re a HUMAN in oldgate for eh, i’d say about TWO YEARS. tough luck, huh ? least they got their ADROIT, WITTY, RESENTFUL and SARDONIC stuff to fall back on. anyway, it’s best to get out of here. their ( scuffed up ice skates forgotten in the back of the hall closet, 'jeanie oh is a bitch!’ scratched into the bathroom stall door, cheap knock-off sunglasses that almost look genuine, ice in the heart of a southern belle ) vibe gives me the creeps !

a southern belle from shreveport, louisiana, jeanie grew up with her mother and father. her life was rather normal until february 1998 when she saw michelle kwan skate for the silver medal. though she was only three years old, the moment she laid eyes on michelle spinning weightless and almost a blur, jeanie knew that was what she was born to do. she was too young to skate in her parents’ eyes, but by the time she was five, they were sick of hearing jeanie talk about it. it took a lot of whining, begging, watching vhs tapes of michelle kwan over and over again for her parents for them to finally relent. lucky for little jeanie, there was a skating club in the city at hirsh memorial coliseum for her to get through her annoying skating phase.

only it wasn’t a phase. jeanie was good. a natural talent, passionate and hardworking in a way that was surprising to her parents; when it came to everything but skating, she couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger. she was selfish, and that proved true in her skating, too. just a schoolaged child, she had all the makings of a diva, brash and obsessed with her own personality. as she started getting stronger, getting better, it became clear that some general ice arena in louisiana was going to support her growing career. so, her mother made the executive decision to move up north to michigan where real stars are made

although initially hesitant, karen became more supportive as jeanie became more serious about the sport. matthew didn’t feel the same, it’s an incredibly expensive sport and though he made good money, he didn’t make skating money. karen wouldn’t hear anything of it, her little jean bean was an amazing skater and had it, the stuff all the other girls in the skating club wanted. she attracted the attention of a middling coach, just someone to start her out, and there was real fire in her eyes that sometimes put off her coach. it’s a serious thing for all those serious about the craft, but jeanie treated simple club competitions and performances as if they were the olympics.

the olympics, the dream of every person that laces up skates and spends long hours every day stretching and pushing their bodies to the limit. going through a few more coaches and competing in countless competitions and pageants, it became clear that while jeanie had all the passion and drive in the world, and skills to match, there were hundreds of other girls with just as much ambition. jeanie oh, jean the jumping bean, wasn’t as special as she once thought.

the dream of every skater, winning the gold (or even the silver, she’d settle for that) slipped farther and farther out of her reach. while she passed her senior test, her stats during qualifying competition always left her at almost on the list but never on it. always the bridesmaid, never the bride. 2010, 2014, and 2018 passed without her ever getting a taste of olympic ice.

at the ripe age of 22, nearly a month before her 23rd birthday, jeanie oh officially retired from skating. by real life standards, she was barely out of her teens. by league standards, she was practically geriatric; the younger you were, the more the judges liked you, and it felt like nearly the entire community were russian adolescents. accepting that she’d never make it any farther in her career, she hung up her skates and stuck her middle finger out to the whole sport of figure skating—figuratively, but also not.

so, now 23 and jobless, her mother now disappointed and mourning what was, jeanie went crawling back to louisiana, moving in with her father in his new house in oldgate with his new wife and baby. incredibly bitter about her ruined potential and just bitter in general, jeanie quickly settled into small town life by taking a cashier job at the super save and spending most of her time sneering at redneck townies.

though vampires are out and about in the world, jeanie’s so wrapped up in herself that she’s barely thought anything about it. she’s entirely unaware of the supernatural beyond vampires existing and tbh even if she did know, she’d still be too busy thinking abt herself lmao

connections:

locals! jeanie is relatively new in town, just been here for a year, but she’s pretty well known for having a bad attitude. basically, if you’re shopping at the super save, better hope she’s not the only lane open! your local could either totally hate her or think her pissy behavior is funny. she’s pretty quick-witted and biting so if you like mean girl bitches, she’s the one to have around!

party pals. since retiring from skating, the only thing that entertains jeanie is drinking and talking shit. she can be incredibly shallow and hates talking about feelings, unless it’s to bitch abt her wasted potential, so if you’re just looking for a good time and a little hell to raise, hang with jeanie.

an enemy. another townie that just straight up hates jeanie (which is an easy thing to do) and makes fun of her a lot; they get into a battle of words nearly every time they see each other, and she’d probably try to physically fight them if she wasn’t on such thin ice (ha!) with her dad.

that’s all i can think of right now but we can come up with something fun together!

#fangfmooc #hold your horses honey. i’ve got coupons for the pringles. ( ooc. )

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