the devil made me do it

𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙢 ― task 01: playlists

playlist one: UHHHHHHH ?? (alternatively titled: disassociation nation):  ↳ a playlist grimm made to listen to when he’s disassociating. or, songs that seem to scratch an itch in the back of his brain. comprised mostly of songs outside of his usual comfort zone. 

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“oh!” he says, with extreme italian emphasis. “are you fuckin’ kidding me?” he says, swiping the shorts from the other’s grip with an expression that could only be classified as wonderment. “these are not pants, grimm. i don’t even know if i should call them shorts. i can’t believe these are real,” he says, holding them up in front of his face and basking in the hideousness. “they’re… amazing.” they truly look like someone ran over spongebob squarepants and then scraped up the roadkill, but that’s just the magic of the dingle thrift store, baby.

“i feel like these would go perfectly with a large… medallion of some sort,” he says, sipping on his coffee and studying the not so great crocheted stitches. “like. beegees. i don’t know. i’m just spitballing here… is that a real word or did i just make that up just now? dude,” he says. “you know that feeling you get when you say a word too many times and it doesn’t even sound real anymore? i’m at that point with, like, every word. do you think that’s a bad thing? ‘cause i’m honestly feeling pretty powerful.”

admittedly, grimm felt a little bit proud of his find. like, somehow he had crafted the yellow monstrosity with his own hands. when the praise starts to roll in he can’t help himself from the big grin on his face, and you can kind of see a sliver of his tongue poking through the gap in his teeth that his overbite creates. “you’re so fucking right, man.” he nods like he’s thinking it over a bit more, “a medallion, or like a big fuckin’ belt buckle. like a cowboy.” 

    —    ✧    —    not sleeping for nearly forty hours isn’t necessarily something connor is accustomed to, but he’s never been the greatest sleeper in the universe, that much can be said. he’s not really doing it on purpose, but the copious amounts of red bull he has consumed certainly isn’t making matters any better; he can’t help that he’s been on an epic songwriting kick for quite literally an entire day and a half, and after his paycheck finally hits, he soon finds himself downing a six-dollar coffee at the dingle thrift store.

this time around, he’s found a bright blue sequined blazer and has already tried it on, indulging in a series of dumbass poses in front of the mirror. with the mixture of his sleep deprivation, weed intake, and just all-around good mood, he’s absolutely cracking himself up. “please let me know if you see any pants that are supposed to go with this,” he says. “or, like, shoes. or a hat… i feel like i’ve found my new trademark. like, makes you wonder why sequins ever went out of style.”

most, if not all, of grimms shopping happened in this very thrift store. this had more to do with him being cheap and not finding it in himself to justify spending more than $20 on clothes at a time. but in the more recent years he’s found a sort of comfort in everything he finds here. some of it is truly, truly godawful but the pieces of clothing he does like bring a history with them. it’s kind of corny to think about, but the fact that someone else wore it and had memories and experiences with it made him feel at home. 

hands clasped together as if their unity would somehow grant reyna her wish, she pouted. “i swear you don’t even have to join.” the begging raised her voice a slight octave. “just come with me to the skate park. i need a cheerleader.” she scoffed in jest. rey was not one to be afraid of failing, but she was a social creature and having someone next to her when she learned a new skill was appealing.

as soon as reyna asked, grimm was fully prepared to say yes. it’s not like he was doing anything else with his time at the moment, and he actually liked the skate park quite a bit. the noise of wheel against pavement scratched some weird itch in his brain. if he could manage to balance himself while maintaining forward momentum he might actually try getting on a board sometime. 

 name: grimm                      age: twenty-six                         birthday: july 14th           occupation: has beans       gender: cis male                      sexuality: bisexual

grimm is constantly fighting an existential crisis ngl

he feels like hes literally two steps from the grave with nothing to show for it except his sick ass barista skills 

self identified himbo but hes actually kind of insecure abt dropping out of high school and his intelligence or lack thereof 

his high school career was mostly spent fucking around and trying to find some way to sneak off and take a nap somewhere in lieu of going to class

somewhat okay childhood, but his relationship with his single mother strained the older he got 

spent age 19-20 couch surfing before he was able 2 afford a shitty little one bedroom apartment

tries 2 go with the flow whenever possible

doesnt own a pair of jeans that doesnt have drawings scribbled on them

has trouble focusing unless its on smth hes super interested in at the moment 

learned guitar mostly from youtube but became obsessed with it p quickly

and writing shitty dumb songs became one of his only hobbies 

auditioned for wet brain three years ago and hasn’t looked back since

is getting increasingly more and more serious about music & wanting 2 actually do something with it

DEEEEFINITELY has a drug problem, mostly weed and sometimes will dabble in other things but uses it as an emotional crutch For Sure

he ignores this so he can continue 2 do it without guilt or shame 

lives in la casa rosa w/ the rest of wet brain 

once tried to bake a pizza on a plastic cutting board and ruined his oven