Good evening

recently played

byf / dni

ships ᥫ᭡

about me

lore

female rage: the musical; a playlist

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT: THE ANTHOLOGY

not a phase

made by me

BYF admin is 28 so if that bothers you dnf; dont use tw/cw and tweets in caps a lot plus i swear a lot so lmk if you need a specific tw/cw and i’ll make sure to tag itDNI basic dnf criteria 18 & under, no fonts, no homophobia , xenaphobia, racism, zionist, etc. (no hate speech will be tolerated on my acc). FREE PALESTINE. BLACK LIVES MATTER. TRANS LIVES MATTER. PRO CHOICE.

NAME sutton/sutt/tons/susu/miss thangAGE twenty-sixSEXUALITY bisexualPRONOUNS she / herNATIONALITY american

🤍

Sutton Grace Owens is petite, auburn-haired, and the kind of girl who looks like she belongs backstage at a rock show more than anywhere else. Her hair usually falls messily around her face, sometimes streaked with faded color, and tattoos crawl along her arms, ribs, and collarbone—little pieces of art and meaning she’s collected over the years. Heavy eyeliner, chipped black nail polish, silver rings, worn leather, band tees, ripped jeans, and scuffed boots make up most of her wardrobe. She has a crooked smile and an unmistakable grungy edge, but there’s something unexpectedly soft about her once you get past the attitude.Her voice is low and melodic, sometimes rough around the edges from years of screaming lyrics at concerts and singing along to records until two in the morning. Sutton has a dry, sarcastic sense of humor and absolutely no problem telling someone exactly what she thinks. She’s the kind of girl who can stare someone down without saying a word, then turn around and make some ridiculous comment that has everyone laughing. She might look intimidating, but beneath the black clothes, tattoos, and resting bitch face is someone deeply sentimental who cares far more than she lets on.She grew up in a small town where everybody knew everybody’s business, and being different made her an easy target for gossip. Sutton never really tried to fit in, though. Music became her escape early on—old rock records, grunge, punk, alternative bands, anything loud enough to drown out the parts of the world she didn’t want to hear. Her bedroom walls were plastered with band posters, her headphones were almost permanently on, and she spent countless nights teaching herself songs until her fingertips hurt.Her parents split when she was eight, and she got used to living in the in-between—packing her life into an overstuffed bag and pretending it was an adventure instead of a shuffle. Her mom remarried quickly, building a life Sutton never quite felt like she belonged in, so she stayed close to her dad, Jack Owens—a grease-stained, soft-hearted mechanic who understood her kind of strange without ever asking her to explain it. He called her “Firecracker,” partly because of her temper, but mostly because of the way she burned bright and unpredictable.With him, life had its own kind of magic. Long drives with the windows down and music blasting, late nights sitting on the counter in his garage while he worked, and old records playing through battered speakers became some of her favorite memories. He never cared that she dressed differently, listened to music too loud, or came home with another tattoo. He just told her the world could either keep up or get out of the way.Sutton may look like the stereotypical brooding alternative girl—the tiny rock chick with the tattoos, dark eyes, and permanent scowl—but she’s softer than she looks. She’s fiercely loyal, secretly sentimental, and loves harder than she’s probably comfortable admitting. Her aesthetic says don’t fuck with me, but underneath it all, she’s still the same girl who desperately wants somewhere—and someone—to feel like home.