astrid. — @hunterastrid - Tumblr Blog

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT → ASTRID HUNTER

biography / pinterest / musings / tasks / timeline

#[ task. ]#we love procrastinating via tasks #[ edit. ]

[ wren. ]

Wren thinks, for a moment. “Memory in the face of trauma and grief is a very tricky thing.” They struggle to picture their father’s face, his voice — but they can tell what his shoes had looked like, standing in the hallway in full detail. How he’d held a spatula when attempting to make pancakes. How he had written his g’s, with a strange flourish Wren had unconsciously adopted. “I learned that quite some time ago.”

For the first time in years, Wren has taken up journaling again. Their teenage years were filled with it, with writing until their hand hurt: spiral notebooks filled with shitty poems and laments. It had been one of the few suggestions given by a therapist that they had actually tried and kept up with. It’s similar, now. The writing is desperate. It’s also safe: it’s analogue, private, something that can’t condemn them. In the notebooks, Wren writes about Thomas. Immortalising details, because of the treacherous way memory works.

They wonder if Astrid does something like that. They want to ask, but then the other Angel makes a comment that makes Wren’s blood turn somewhat icy with anxiety. This isn’t something they want to think of, this isn’t something they want to speak of. They look around, for a moment, trying to find an out. Jessica, Nana, Omer. A disaster they could tend to. If they had a champagne flute they’d drop it.

“Yeah.” They think of Kitty, saying that they’re family now after Thomas had been shot only to turn around and use their wish to be part of the family as leverage. “Pathetic. Maybe. Maybe the ones willing to use that kind of thing are more pathetic, though. Especially if they don’t know what it’s like themselves.” Because the Wardens, the Pinketts, the Femeniases? They all had family, strong blood-bonds wrought with criminal intent. “Thomas wasn’t … I don’t know. Not like that, though. Just a Power, you know?” Wren would rather focus on that pain, rather than the growing disdain they feel for some of Famine’s higher ranking members. “I don’t think it was luring. He just needed someone like me, and I someone like him.”

Trauma. Grief. Two more words Astrid decides she hates. Using them feels like admitting to a weakness, to some soft spot deep in her core that should have hardened over by now. Who was she to call this trauma? Nothing had happened to her, not really; she’d watched Juno take all of it instead. And they’d known something like this was a possibility. It was a clause in the metaphorical contract you signed when you got involved with the gangs, with people who had targets lit up in neon on their backs. May result in the unexpected death of yourself or a loved one. So it couldn’t be trauma, if it was anticipated. It couldn’t be trauma, because trauma meant you needed help. Astrid didn’t need help. She needed revenge.

Wren keeps talking and Astrid moves her gaze back to the crowd. As far as she’s concerned, a quarter of the people in that room were responsible for Juno’s death. And Thomas’. The masks make it complicated to identify who’s who, especially since half of Death have yet to be seen without a mask in the first place, but Astrid takes stock of the unfamiliar figures. She tries to memorize their hair colors, their builds, anything to help identify them later. The new truce might forbid people from doing anything for now, but based on the current track record, it wouldn’t be long before they were all plunged into chaos again and anything was game.

"Nobody’s just anything around here.” She turns her attention back towards Wren as he finishes speaking. “Everyone has value, because the ones that don’t get disposed of.” They aren’t comforting words, but they’re true. Astrid isn’t sure what comfort she could provide Wren anyway. Thomas and Juno may have met similar fates, but Wren and Astrid are far from in the same position. There is no way for Astrid to know what Wren is feeling, not really, nor is there a way for Wren to read Astrid’s thoughts. The best they can do is offer the knowledge that neither is alone in feeling at all.

“It’s good you had each other, though,” Astrid says. “I’m sure he died knowing he was loved.” She gives Wren a half-hearted attempt at a smile and smoothes the skirt of her gown. “Well, I think I’ve had enough of this whole thing.” Astrid waves her hand in the direction of everyone else. She holds out her flask for Wren to take. “Here, take it. So you don’t have to try your luck with the champagne. Or, I don’t know, you can throw it at a Deathie if they come near you.” She pauses as she turns to walk off. “And I sincerely hope we don’t have any more of these all-gang events in the future.”

— END.

#[ interaction. ]#[ feat. wren lightfoot ]#[ 001. wren ]#[ 06.25.21 ]#smash cut to everybody at the manor three weeks later akfjalsdfjk #also wren and astrid get therapy challenge 2022 #or i guess 2021 bc that's the time in game #but anyways thank u for a lovely thread mar !!#grief tw #trauma tw #death mention tw #parental death tw #from mar's bit #idek if this reply makes sense my brain's broken #i also need to shut up in the tags aksfjlsd #ALSO MY INTERNET IS BEING TERRIBLE SO NO GIF OK THAT'S THE LAST THING

majidjordans-deactivated2023041

LAURA HARRIER for SBJCT Journal (2021)

As a woman, I feel deep societal pressure to look a certain way. And I do think that we often get hung up on focusing more on the outside than the inside. I’m very big on taking the time to respect my skin and my body, as well as my aura and spirit. I think it’s my responsibility to advocate for women giving themselves a break! Feeling beautiful because of who we are, instead of chasing who we are not. It’s so important to empower ourselves for our own mental health.

#[ mirror. ]#queued.

cthonicdionysus-deactivated2021

I’m going to be honest with you I’m not going to be honest with you

#[ musings. ]#queued.

cressidascowper

#no thank you

#[ musings. ]#queued.

[ marcus. ]

“that’s exactly right,” marcus laughs, “don’t act like you’ve only just figured out i’m petty, we established this years ago. and i was under the impression we were on the same page of not pointing out each others flaws?” he teases, grinning wide as he settles into his seat, “that’s what friends do, no? feed into each other’s narcissism?” oh, i’ve missed this, he thinks. or maybe it’s the lightness that comes with talking to someone who doesn’t know how low he’s sunk this year that makes talking to astrid so effortless. “also i think it’s very brave of me to let you choose again.”

“yup, you’re welcome.” granted, he’d have opted for not sending kitty to the same residence as her cancerous ex boyfriend, but it wasn’t his call to make. the comment on gabrielle makes him raise one brow in silent solidarity, hardily the horseman of war’s top fan. marcus almost can’t comprehend the idea of his uncle or his mother forcing him to take in an enemy while mourning the loss of someone so closely tied as a sister. but better the wardens than them. “well, thank god it’s over then, mm? no doubt for the best kitty didn’t stay another day longer.”

he raises his hands in defeat, palms facing her. “touche.” if it was him, if it was ravi that they mourn, marcus is sure he’d want to be alone, but he’s even more certain that being alone would ruin him. marcus can’t help laughing again, but it doesn’t have the same kindness when saint is involved. “what, like the yelling? storming out like a brat?” he snorts, more thankful than ever that kitty turns to him to relish in her pettiness, “her nonsense was kitty playing nice. good on her for not breaking his nose a second time.” but he’s not surprised, family has always come first for her, kitty has never given any of them reason to doubt it.

marcus takes a slower breath, forcing a smile to mask the irritation that crackles in his fingertips. this is not worth arguing about. marcus smiles at the server and gives his order, watching for a moment too long as they walk away from the table. if only this next topic was one that didn’t hold so much weight. “yeah,” he smiles proudly, and he is proud, but he is still hiding from her, “it’s been quite the ride. and i’m grateful for it.” to say anything more could lead to self betrayal, when the ground he stands on is so frail and liable to shatter. “by the way, i— you’re probably sick of hearing this, but… i’m sorry for your loss, astrid, really. i can’t— i don’t want to imagine what it’s like. i know i like to talk a lot of shit about them but, well, it’s like i said. and for what it’s worth, i’m glad you’re not grieving alone.”

Marcus moves from playfully joking to clearly doing his best tamping down disdain to somber and serious in a matter of minutes, effortlessly transitioning from one to the next, and Astrid feels as though she can hardly keep up. It used to be easier, she thinks, matching the speed at which Marcus’ thoughts moved. It was one of the reasons they’d gotten on so well. And maybe it’s the forced time apart due to the truce breaking, or the myriad of ways in which all of their lives had been upended ever since, but it doesn’t feel easy anymore. Even as she pastes on the small, grateful smile she’s been using any time somebody gives her their condolences, trying to meet Marcus where he’s at, Astrid can feel the anger simmering underneath her skin, crawling up from her feet like quicksand threatening to pull her under.

She stays quiet for a long moment because the alternative is berating Marcus, which he really doesn’t deserve just for saying he was sorry for her loss. If Juno and I hadn’t been together, you’d be celebrating the fact that there was one less Warden to deal with, Astrid thinks. Perhaps it should be a comfort to know that he cared enough about her to put aside the feud to empathize, but it rings hollow in her chest the way everybody’s condolences did. At the end of the day, condolences didn’t fix anything. But neither would lecturing Marcus on how much of a luxury it was that he didn’t have to even imagine this feeling, let alone actually experience it. So Astrid tries the smile again, though she’s certain it doesn’t reach her eyes, and gets out a small, “thanks.”

Astrid tries to find something else to say, but it all feels dangerously close to having to actually talk about her feelings. “You do talk a lot of shit about the Wardens for someone who can barely handle it when other people then talk shit about your own family.” Was this the best thing to say to Marcus? Probably not, but as long as it veered the conversation away from how Astrid was doing or coping or anything, it would do. She couldn’t handle a heart-to-heart, but she could definitely handle an argument. “Like yeah, Kitty got her heart broken. But does she really have to make it everyone else’s problem? She basically turned every shared space in the house into hostile territory. With how public all the revenge was, she either had a personal vendetta against me as well, or they were trying to hide the fact that they were still fucking. Kitty said she didn’t have anything against me, but neither of them are stupid enough for it to be the second option, so she had to have lied to me.” Astrid shrugs. “Or maybe she was trying to get back at the dogs.”

#[ interaction. ]#[ feat. marcus reyes ]#[ 001. marcus ]#[ 06.29.21 ]#grief tw #astrid sounds so deranged in this oh my god #girl marcus was trying to be nice why are you like this

promqueendyke

seventeen going under // sam fender

#[ musings. ]#queued.

lauraharriergifs

#[ mirror. ]#queued.

jazminesullivan

AS TOLD BY GINGER (2000-2006)

#[ musings. ]#queued.

[ rita. ]

Astrid proved for the thousandth time how perfectly suited she was for politics. Her approach is gentle, but direct and the effectiveness proven with every successful election. Though her campaigns being funded by War — through Rita — certainly had contributed to Astrid maintaining her seat after all these years. But despite their combined efforts to promote Remus’ campaign, Todd remains stubbornly obstinate and Rita is finding it difficult to remain unoffended on her husband’s behalf. Then, once he questions whether they’re promoting the correct candidate and suggests Astrid instead, Rita finds herself irrevocably offended.

Her expression cools to a flat smile, her eyes cold enough to freeze the champagne in their flutes. At least Astrid doesn’t seem pleased by the turn of this conversation, though Rita wonders whether it’s because she dislikes the notion of running herself or dislikes the idea that the Wardens would become aware of it. “Astrid is a wealth of knowledge and experience and Remus regards her as a very close advisor.” If Todd thought Astrid was so perfect perhaps this compromise would be acceptable. “Remus is more than ready for the job, but we are interested in your input as well. We’d love to put a meeting together so you can discuss those platforms you’re so uncertain about.”

Todd pulled a face as Rita repeated her earlier invitation and looked as though he’d rather lick broken glass than spend an afternoon with Remus. That could be arranged. “How can he be ready? The man’s got no experience. And, no offense, but he works at his family’s company. He’s not going to be handed the seat as he was his current job.” There was no way his words couldn’t be offensive, not when he was talking to another employee of said company who got her job after getting engaged to the man. She wondered if Todd was trying to rile her on purpose or if he was just an idiot.

“I’ll never be offended by someone speaking their mind,” Rita lied easily, crocodile smile spreading over her face. “That’s a trait I respect. And not the first time someone has said that, nor will it be the last. But Bellum Nova has flourished under Remus’ direction, there’s no denying that.” She knew better than to argue with someone with a disagreeable and determined mind like his, but she couldn’t help herself. After all, it was honoring her wedding vows to be fiercely loyal to Remus.

&&.

Either Todd is really fucking stupid, or he’s willfully ignoring the way that Rita’s gaze freezes over and her voice is injected with her displeasure. Astrid places a hand on Rita’s arm, partly as reassurance and partly as a reminder to keep it together, even though Astrid is finding the latter just as difficult. The problem is that Todd just keeps fucking talking. Astrid makes a mental note to look him later; he had to have some powerful connections to get this far in politics when he seems to say every single thought that crosses his mind.

“It’s difficult for a company not to flourish when they essentially have a monopoly on their market,” Todd says. His face is smug, as if he’s really cornered them with his statement. Astrid has to resist the urge to roll her eyes again. “But as talented at business as I’m sure your husband is, a country is not a company. Just because a person is fit to run one does not mean they are fit to run the other.”

Todd has the audacity to look at his watch as though he’s late for another appointment, and Astrid jumps in before Rita can go off on him, even though part of her does want to see Todd’s reaction to getting yelled at by a pregnant woman in the middle of a room full of people. “I can assure you that Remus is fit to do both. But we’ve taken up enough of your time.” More like he’d taken up too much of theirs. “We’ll have someone reach out soon to set up that meeting.” She doubts he’ll respond to any attempt at setting up a follow-up meeting, but she’ll make sure something gets sent so that he can’t hold that over their heads as well.

Astrid leads Rita off to the side of the room, snagging another flute of champagne from a server on the way. “Oh my god,” she says, taking a sip of champagne. “Fucking men. If I acted like Todd fucking Jones I wouldn’t have a seat in Parliament. Who openly questions a candidate’s abilities in front of their wife?” And then tells the other person in the conversation that they should be running instead? Astrid quickly veers the topic away from Todd’s opinions on who is and is not a viable candidate for Prime Minister. She doesn’t feel like being the target for any of Rita’s pent up anger from the conversation. “The audacity of that man... Can we make sure he doesn’t get invited to the shareholders meeting next year?”

#[ interaction. ]#[ feat. rita zhang ]#[ 001. rita ]#[ 06.10.21 ]#pregnancy mention tw #alcohol tw

[ cemile. ]

Cemile gives Astrid an unamused look, “funny,” though her tone is deadpanned, there’s no real annoyance in it. This was all part of the job – combatting narratives so only the one they wanted to be heard would be. “You did what you could, that’s what matters. Our team will handle the rest.” She pauses to answer a Bellum-related text, and then pivots back to her campaign phone, sending off a message to one of the assistants to start drafting up an invitation to some sort of dinner the following week. They’d want to get it into the hands of any doubters promptly.

She wonders then, for the briefest moment before the thought is put away, if Astrid isn’t one of them – a doubter. Her words don’t question the legitimacy of Remus’ campaign, but they’re good points, ones that could be used against the campaign down the line if heard by anyone else. Glancing to the door to confirm it’s actually shut, Cem shakes her head at the questions. She understands where Astrid is coming from, she’s had the same questions herself, but at the end of the day, it is his race. Regardless of extenuating circumstances, like impending fatherhood.

Settling into the seat opposite Astrid, Cemile lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “I get where you’re coming from, A – I really do and I love Remus and Rita but,” she smiles, hands splayed. “How he turns out as a father isn’t my concern.” He asked her to help run his campaign, so that’s what she was going to do. She wasn’t a family therapist, so she didn’t claim to know what was best for the newest Warden family unit. But she had a fairly good instinct on what was good for this campaign and what would help Remus’ chances for success. “He’s not the first person to run for office with young children. They’ll get help. They’ll have family.”

She arches a brow at her friend, “besides, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that that’s exactly the kind of argument people use to keep women out of power.” She’s got a family at home. She’ll be tired from raising the kids. Do you really want her leading the country when she can’t even get her kids to settle down? “As far as I’m concerned, his impending fatherhood humanizes him. Gives him the motivation to want to make the country a better place for his own kids to grow up in.”

It seemed like a logical take on the matter to Cemile. She’s already standing up from her briefly seated position when one of her phones starts buzzing. “Anyway, if some fucking twat from The fucking Sun or wherever brings up the potential of him being tired because he’s changing nappies in the middle of the night, we’ll just ask if they’re tired from wanking off by themselves at one in the morning too.” Said with a smirk before she nods at Astrid, lips forming a genuine smile. “Thank you for telling me…I’ll sort it out but I mean it…it’s not crazy. You’re going to do big things, Astrid.” And she means it, too, waving goodbye to her friend as she exits the room and heads toward the next fire she has to put out.

– END

#[ interaction. ]#[ feat. cemile sadik ]#[ 003. cemile ]#[ 06.10.21 ]#thank u for the lovely thread g !!

loseyoutoloveme

everyone, mitski / goodbye to all that, joan didion

#[ musings. ]#queued.

cthonicdionysus-deactivated2021

I’m going to be honest with you I’m not going to be honest with you

#[ musings. ]#queued.

randall-park

LAURA HARRIER — via her Instagram

#[ mirror. ]#queued.

luthienne

“Sometimes, you just want / something so hard you have to lie about it, / so you can hold it in your mouth for a minute, / how real hunger has a real taste.”

— Ada Limón, Bright Dead Things; “Lies About Sea Creatures”

#[ musings. ]#queued.

a look into astrid hunter’s wardrobe → 01 july - 18 july 2021

interview at pale horse media, 15 june — black and white ralph & russo double-breasted shorts suit, black versace la medusa naplak pumps, black prada saffiano double zip bag

gang sleepover day one, 17 june — black belted andrew gn dress, black suede jimmy choo mules with pearl accents, gold christian dior earrings with pearl and diamonds

gang sleepover day two, 18 june — black hight-waisted victoria beckham pantsuit with lace camisole, black dulce & gabbana mesh mules with gold accents, gold and white vancleef & arpels vintage alhambra necklace

#astrid doesn't know the meaning of casual #[ closet. ]#[ edit. ]#[ 07.15.21 ]#[ 07.17.21 ]#[ 07.18.21 ]

stream

I really just wanted to do something great… for once in my life.

MARE OF EASTTOWN | 1x05 “Illusions”

#[ musings. ]#queued.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

astrid. —