#it’s only been a year since toxic gossip train guys… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sh4tt3rg1rl · 4 months

Note

Hey

It's been a while since you saw my face

I haven't been doing so great

So I took a little break

A lot of people are saying some things about me that aren't quite true

Doesn't matter if it's true, though

Just as long as it's entertaining to you, right?

You guys having fun?

All aboard the toxic gossip train

Chugging down the tracks of misinformation

The toxic gossip train

You got a one-way ticket to manipulation station

Toxic gossip train

Tie me to the tracks and harass me for my past

Those rumors look like facts if you don't mind the gaps

I won't survive in the crash, but hey

At least you're havin' fun

Uh, hi, everyone

I've been wanting to come online and talk to you about a few things

Um, even though my team has strongly advised me to not say what I want to say

I recently realized that they never said that I couldn't sing what I wanna say, so

Here I am, and, um, today I only wanna talk about the facts

So, I hope that you'll be willing to listen

Here we go

Many years ago, I used to message my fans

Uh, but not in a creepy way like a lot of you are trying to suggest

It was more of a loser kind of way

Where I was just trying to be besties with everybody

It was kinda like, uh, when you go to like a family gathering, you know?

And there's a weird aunt there who keeps coming up to you and going like "Hey, girl, what's the tea!"

And you're like "Ehhh"

Um, that was me, but in group chats with my fans, it was weird

I've been sharing my life online for over 15 years

I've poured my heart out to you and because of that I feel

Like I'm talking to my friends, but, in the beginning of my career

I didn't really understand that maybe there should be some boundaries there

There were times in the DMs when I would overshare

Details of my life, which was really weird of me

I haven't done that for years, you see

Because I changed my behavior, and I took accountability

But that's not very interesting, is it?

So let's go on the toxic gossip train

The locomotive's fueled with hateful accusations

The toxic gossip train

Steamroll over someone's reputation

Toxic gossip train

Hop on board, but close your eyes, otherwise you'll realize

That the train is made of lies and that person you despise

Maybe didn't deserve to die

But hey, at least you're havin' fun

In all seriousness, I do think it's really important to hold people accountable for their mistakes

Um, y'know, we should hope that everyone can learn from their mistakes

And grow, and change their behavior, and be a better person

This is something that I've always tried to do when I make mistakes

And is something that I will continue to try t- what?

Oh, you don't care? Oh, okay

I thought you wanted me to take accountability

But that's not the point of your mob mentality, is it? No

Your goal is to ruin the life of the person you despise

While you dramatize your lies and monetize their demise

Yeah, um, I feel like I can already hear the comments on this video

"She's gaslighting, manipulating!"

"Ugh, she's a narcissist and a rat!"

"I would never make a mistake like that."

Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realize

That all of you are perfect, so please, criticize me

Bring out the daggers made from your perfect past

And stab me repeatedly in my bony little back

I'm sure you're disappointed in my shitty little song

I know that you wanted me to say that I was 100% in the wrong

Well, I'm sorry, I'm not gonna take that route

Of admitting to lies and rumors that you made up for clout

"Hey everybody, I found someone new to harass

She did some things that I do not like, in her past

So everybody, gather 'round, 'cause we're about to attack"

But not based on facts, oh no

Your loaded lethal weapon is your fingers on the keys

You don't need any armor when you can hide behind a screen

So, shoot me down, quick, with a click, and bam

My reputation's deceased

Uh, I also wanted to take a minute to talk about that girl, Miranda Sings

You know the one, yeah her

Uh, she's PG-13, it says that on my website

And it's always been that way

And that's why you won't find my videos on the YouTube Kids app

Anyway, um, I didn't realize it was my responsibility

To decide what was appropriate for every kid to see

I've always relied on parents to decide if they're comfortable

With their families watching my YouTube videos or coming to my live shows

Now, have I made some jokes in poor taste? Yes

Have I made lots of dumb mistakes? Yes

Am I sad that there's some fans that feel betrayed? Yes

But was my intention to manipulate? No

It doesn't really matter what my intention was

'Cause it seems as though everyone's already decided on that

Let me tell you, it's not very fun to have millions of people all over the world

Call you the most vile, horrendous, disgusting, life-ruining words

That a person can be called, in my opinion

Um, it doesn't matter that these things aren't true

Uh, everyone just believes that you are the type of person who manipulates and abuses children

So, I just wanted to say that, um

The only thing that I've ever groomed is my two Persian cats

I'm not a groomer, I'm just a loser

Who didn't understand I shouldn't respond to fans

And I'm not a predator even though a lot of you think so

Because 5 years ago, I made a fart joke

So, even though I know this video won't change anyone's mind about me

I still felt it was important to come on here and defend myself a little

And take accountability

And I also wanted to say that

To anyone out there who has ever supported me in any capacity

I really, really appreciate you, thank you

For what it's worth, I never had any bad intentions

But I do feel like shit

The toxic gossip train

Chugging down the tracks of misinformation

Toxic gossip train

You got a one way ticket to manipulation station

Toxic gossip train

You tied me to the tracks and harassed me for my past

Rumors look like facts when you don't mind the gaps

I won't survive in the crash, but hey

Hope you had some fun

Actually, y'know, I feel like maybe I should let you guys know something, um

Seems like, maybe you're confused about something? I don't know

Let me try to help, um

Sometimes people make a mistake and it doesn't make them a horrible person, whoa

Sometimes people can make a mistake and they're still a good person

Crazy, I know

Sometimes people can make a mistake and you don't have to take that mistake, oh no

And twist it up, and grind it, and add some lies to it, and pulverize it

And stab it with knives, and ruin a life, and, oh no

Sometimes people can make a mistake, it doesn't mean you gotta send them hate, oh no

Sometimes people can make a mistake and you can kindly let them know, and help them to grow

Sometimes people make mistakes, simply because they made a mistake?

And that mistake doesn't make them a terrible human

It just makes them a human

But what do I know?

Fuck me, right?

WHY DID YOU SEND ME THSI LKFOSIDJFJ

#xeyasks

2 notes · View notes

dolliedarlin · 4 years

Text

i m p l i c i t ⏤katsuki b.

p a i r i n g : bakugou x f.reader

s u m m a r y : ever since you were young, you were forced to meet with the person dubbed as your finance, Katsuki Bakugou, a Baron’s son who had quite the temper but peaks your interest in every way possible

l e n g t h : 1.9k

g e n r e : olden days au ; fantasy au ; arranged marriage au ; Bakugou is a tsundere ; and we love him for it ; reader is an amazing bean that can keep up with him ; kirishima is your brother ; best brother ever ; rumours are toxic ; never base your opinions on someone solely on rumours ; you attract a stalker ; it’s not your fault ; he just as a twisted yandere mind ; Katsuki is your hero ; he makes your heart flutter ; and he makes your knees weak ; i really want someone to protect me and say what he said at the end of this

w a r n i n g s : swearing from our lovable explosion murder king ; acts of stalker/yandere ; sword fighting

a / n : i didn’t plan on posting this but mother nature decided to pay me a visit today so i basically lazed around in my bed groaning in pain and half starving bc it was too painful to get out at times for food. instead i started writing this imagine again that i had began months ago. this is inspired by Ranma 1/2, which is an anime that i loved watching when i was much younger, it’s not well edited because i’m kinda dizzy rn but i hope you enjoy it!

— first of all, before either you or Katsuki were born, the arrangement for your marriage to each other was already settled by your parents, hence why you were immediately introduced when you were children

— neither of you knew what marriage or engagement meant but you both associated it with seeing each other

— it wasn’t something Katsuki liked but you didn’t quite mind it, he always gave you really interesting reactions that you quickly came to like

— as the two of you grew up together, you always tried your best to get close to him but Katsuki was adamant at pushing you away and keeping you at arms length at all times

— despite all that, you wanted to catch his attention, which meant that you took interest in all the things that he found interesting too. that included: sword fighting, horse riding, duelling ; spicy foods ; battle tactics ; magic etc

— Katsuki always tried to ignore you but secretly appreciated how skilled you had become over the years. you were still nothing compared to him but you were able to battle against a majority of qualified knights and still be the last one standing

— he only scoffed at you because your talents were wasted; you’re too kindhearted to ever use your honed skills properly - it irritates him that other women push you to conform to etiquette, tea parties and high society when you were better than that

— you’re better than shallow conversations about the latest fashion, or the art of sipping tea, calligraphy and painting because he knows how much you train and how much effort you put into your education outside of such insignificant things

— Katsuki knows that you can handle yourself better than any other nobleman he knows of, he’s seen you help your father with his business and vigorously train with your dukedom’s knights

— what’s the point of all that effort if you weren’t going to show anything for it?

— because of that Katsuki always acted like he hated having you as his fiancée despite your optimism about him, as well as your patience and understanding of his unique way of expressing himself

— because the two of you are forced to spend a lot of time together by your parents, you’ve has been able to understand Katsuki and his mannerisms better than anyone else as your mother has always taught you to be openminded - she’s never been like the other noble ladies of society, hence why your father married her

— now, you were following in her footsteps. there’s been much gossip about your unladylike behaviour but you didn’t care, all you needed were your parents’ love and the love of Katsuki. he still needed some more time to come around but you’re positive you’ll get to him soon enough

— you’re positive there’s a different gleam in his eyes whenever he looks towards you now. it had always been one of hatred when you were much younger but his expressions frequently soften around you nowadays.

— no matter how subtle it may be, you always notice

— many rumours circulated about you the first time you had shown your skills openly amongst the knighthood. it had first started with your knights who praised you highly but, as soon as those whisperings reached outside the dukedom, many noble ladies started to gossip about your misdemeanour.

— surprisingly, those rumours were shut down in under a week and you didn’t know why; usually such good gossip material stayed for months and only faded with the years so it was peculiar to have it die down so quickly

— what was suspicious was that, as soon as your rumours died down, stories about Katsuki surged forward.

— when you conversed with other people, they would say how horrible they feel for you having to marry such an aggressive and dislikable fiancee. they would then over-exaggerate all the belligerent and misunderstood characteristics of Bakugou, even making up disgusting rumours that painted him to be more villainous than he actually was.

— “how shameful,” you spat with disgust, glowering down at the noble ladies frozen in their seats, “how dare you openly gossip about my fiancee right in front of me, the nerve! you should know better than to act like such children. if you have nothing better to do then i suggest you leave the kirishima estate immediately and never expect to be invited back,”

— they tried to beg you for forgiveness, seeing as your father held such power in high society, being one of the four noble dukes of the kingdom serving directly under the king as they all had noble blood.

— nobody expected your father to marry you to a Baron’s son. Katsuki didn’t have a higher title than you but your fathers had gone to war together and remained loyal friends ever since, Baron Bakugou went on to acquire his title of Braon after his service in the war but many people still looked down on him from his commoner origins. to think that such educated ladies of high society would use that as leverage to gossip however they wished.

— word of your actions on behalf of Bakugou spread quickly and the two of you became a couple that shouldn’t be trifled with.

— after that day, you always defend Katsuki and never miss the opportunity to express how much you admire him and care for him even if he doesn’t tend to reciprocate it

— you do this when Katsuki’s friends make an appearance, they consisted of your brother, Eijiro, Denki of house Kaminari (son of Marquis Kaminari) and Hanta of house Sero (son of Marquis Sero).

— they usually don’t visit the estate but this time they decided to utilise the knights training grounds for extra duelling practice and happened to catch you just as you were walking out, having finished your own training

— as soon as introductions and polite greetings were exchanged, came the jokes and jives.

— “I wouldn’t blame you if you eloped with someone else on your wedding day, Lady (Y/N), knowing this guy’s attitude,” Denki snickers as he points his thumb at your fiancé, who growled lowly in return.

— “i wouldn’t dare do something like that because, even if this is an arranged marriage, Katsuki will be the only man for me” Katsuki didn’t expect you to be so forward and couldn’t help the blush that coated his cheeks from your response

— Denki whistled in a mix of astonishment and amusement, “Katsuki’s a lucky guy!”

— “he looks really happy to hear you say that too, sis,” Eijiro teased as Hanta grinned from beside him.

— “shut up! we came here to train so let's train already, you dumbasses!”

— the days go by and life is good; the quicker your wedding day approaches the kinder and gentler Katsuki treats you. it wasn’t until the kindness you practiced with everyone you met, no matter their status, became something more in the twisted mind of an unknown individual that you encountered within city streets, while out shopping

— one act of kindness made the stranger crave for your touch and sought you out in the most deviant method. he sent constant letters multiple times a day and even mailed one with his most intimate item of clothing, not only that but he always stood at the gates of your estate, waiting for it to be opened just to slip in and try to meet you again

— of course, he didn’t get far because of the security brought on by your dukedom’s talented knights stopped him at every devious attempt. each incident was reported directly to your brother, who was training to inherit the duchy as soon as your father retired

— Eijiro was having none of it and devised the best plan of action he could, knowing that his image as the heir of the dukedom needed to be thought of so that his people wouldn’t be against him when he took over his capable father’s place. he resisted the urge for an immediate confrontation to plan with you, about how you wanted to defuse the situation

— however, as soon as word got to Bakugou, he ran over on foot to confront the man at your estate, just as Eijiro came down with a squadron of knights and you at his side

— lost in his own world, your stalker immediately reached out for you the instant he caught sight of your figure. on his face, he had a twisted smile and manic eyes, his breathing became heavy as if to savour the same air you breathed not too far away from him. it was frighting and chilling to see such an unhinged man. he was so deranged, he didn’t mind the swords and pointed glares directed at him by all that were present and Katsuki, who was fast approaching from behind

— “Get. Away. From. Her!” Katsuki shouted in anger as he drew his sword and slashed at the young man, making you jump back with a gasp.

— “Bakugou!” Kirishima warned as he pulled you into his chest for protection from the clashing of swords

— “Katsuki, be careful!” you cried. confronting someone with such an unstable mind could go horribly wrong and no matter how skilled your fiancee was, you couldn’t help but worry

— Even though this was the first time Katsuki ever showed his feelings for you in such a dramatic gesture, the worry you had for him consumed your joy as his opponent drew out his own sword and started lashing out with worse coordination than your junior knights.

— what he lacked with technique, however, he made up for in agility as well as his own unpredictability. it made it hard for Katsuki to predict the path of his opponent’s sword so for a time, he was constantly dodging his blade. it didn’t take long, however, for the game of endurance and stamina to come into play and slow down his opponent enough for him to fight back with more accuracy.

— “you revolting rat!” Katsuki growled swinging his sword with might only to grind his teeth when his sword is narrowly dodged. not one to give up, however, he goes in once again and finally lands a hit that forces your stalker to crumble to his knees, “you try and pull that shit with (Y/N) again and I’ll be doing more than just beating you to the ground,” it was an obvious win for the blonde.

— “And what would that be?” your stalker still had fight in him that came off as more irritating than anything else Bakugou had ever encountered in his life of servitude as a royal knight and baron’s son.

— just to prove his point, whatever it may be, Katsuki goes to stand beside you and pull you into his chest with his large hand at your waist

— “landing your ugly, disgusting ass in a fucking coffin!” the venom in his voice was evident and it made you shudder, curling up into his chest for comfort, not knowing that the next words he’d shout would have your knees weaker than any training could ever do, “(Y/N) is MY Fiancee! you touch her and I’ll kill you!”

n a v i . | bnha mlist

#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bnha bakugou #bnha olden days au #bnha fantasy au

387 notes · View notes

mfahme · 2 years

Text

The man who killed ‘Happiness’

The air feels toxic, but I have to breathe. Every medicine has a side effect. Perhaps, toxic things have some good sides too? Oh, what am I even saying? I think I have gone nuts. Even if that’s not the case, the rest of the world certainly has. Among all the smoke, fire, and chaos on the street, I try to run.

Thump.

I stumble onto something and fall down. What is this? A human body? More like .. dead body.

I pick myself up. This is no time to die. Haha, the bond film release was postponed, but who knew it would get canceled eventually? Everything has fallen apart since then. First came the plague. Many of us didn’t care. We thought our money would save us. But it didn’t. First, we started losing friends of friends. Then our friends started dying. In a year, a large chunk of the population of the world was wiped away. Then came the storms. The ones with broken shelters were gone in the wind. The economy has been broken for quite some time by then. When nature stopped its games, we began ours. Fights broke out for multiple causes. People started disappearing. Now nowhere is safe. There are no media left. As soon as people started understanding the propaganda machine, that was pretty much that for them. Yes, good ones died with the bad ones as well. Fire doesn't spare anyone in the jungle. I squeeze myself in between the closing doors of the metro. Night trains are not safe. In fact, nowhere is safe anymore. The lights are dim. But I highly doubt if anybody cares. Five years ago, this train at this time would be more crowded than now, of course. But not too much. Some kid would read a book after returning from the college library late. Some corporates would brush off the dust from their fancy suit they afford to get access to high-end parties and meetings. Others would use music in their earphones. Maybe a couple could be seen drooling over each other, half drunk. Those seem like fairy tales right now. I can probably locate 3 people around me, among them, 2 of them feels like potential thugs. If they attack me on this train, I don’t think the other one would try to save me. The system might though. The train will stop and some sort of bots might intervene. They always have these at the metro. They act autonomously. To my relief, both of the men got off at the next station. Just as the doors were closing, I heard a scream. At least, I think I did. Nobody provides security in the stations anymore. The police are extinct. there are only surveillance robots. “Maybe the machines did this to us, maybe terminator did come true. Only we don’t see their leader.” I mumble to myself half-heartedly.

“That’s a good science fiction you got there in, buddy”, a voice speaks nearby. I almost jumped. Somebody is here, right beside me and I didn’t hear him coming. Probably he got in from the door on the other side when I was too busy thinking about the sound I just heard in the direction both of the previous guys were leaving. A long black overcoat and a hat, straight up chin and beard. He kinda looks like Heisenberg from the famous TV show Breaking Bad, I think. Oh, that’s why he seems so familiar to me. “Well, nobody ain't reading or watching it,” I reply. He laughs. He laughed. I haven’t heard anybody laugh in ages. Why is he laughing?

“Yeah, strange world, without books, movies, comedies, laughter, fictions,” he says. “But for it’s worth, I think you have good a good fiction in there, buddy. A decade ago, this might actually earn great fame”. Am I dreaming? This man is trying to do chitchat with me. I haven’t done any casual gossip or chitchat since how long, I have forgotten. Everybody I know or come across is consumed by shock, grief, and what not! This guy seems relaxed. There’s an announcement. The train is almost at my destination. I try to get up. The stranger grabs my arm. “Going to someone?” he asks. “It’s none of your concern, but I don’t think anybody still has anyone left in the godforsaken place anymore”, I snap. He lets go. “Sorry about the collateral”, his last words before I exit the door.

I put out the light and pull myself on to the bed. I have been living all by myself since Elena left me a year ago. Slowly I understood that everyone who is living in this world right now has lost their kin. Even newlyweds started losing their partners randomly. Then word got out that somehow kinship can’t endure. Accidents, murders, disappearances- something would definitely happen once you make a kinship. Humans stopped doing that, mostly. Those who are still doing it, are disappearing. It can’t be a coincidence. Maybe my theory is true. Maybe the fiction is not actually a fiction, it’s reality. The AI is picking us one by one. Speaking of the fictions and coincidence, one sentence pops into my mind.

“Sorry about the collateral”

I have heard this before. I know exactly when and where. You can’t forget something like this, even after the world ends.

A few years ago when the world was still intact and normal, I was on a business trip at Kuala Lampur. After the business was done, it was time to chill. I went for my usual recreation, to a bar. There I met this strange person whom I concurred as drunk. Well, I wasn’t sober as well. But before he got me drinking the entire bottle of Whiskey, he finished his story. This man got betrayed by almost everyone he loved in life. His family betrayed him for money, his girlfriend cheated on her, and then when he became successful, she and her friends tried to sabotage him. He was obsessed with the idea of removing “happiness” from this world. “Why do you think people hurt each other? Because they want to be happy. Why people become bad? They think they can be happy by doing that. How about we remove “happiness” itself from this world?” To be honest, I was really happy after the successful meetings. So I was enjoying his tale of probable revenge. He poured me another peg and I asked, “but how do you remove happiness?” He wasn’t drinking. “Well, it’s like an evolution, it’s challenging, but once you start the process, everything will follow. For example, say, if there’s a plague, and the economy falls, there can be chaos, and among the chaos, you devise a plan to destroy the very thing that made us superior over animals. Unity. Perspective. You remove someone’s motivation to return home, he doesn’t necessarily return home anymore.”

The air conditioner must be malfunctioning. I am sweating even in 18-degree celsius. Could it really be? Now that I remember, the fiction that man had told me years ago in that bar, mostly did take place for real over the past few years. Was he some kind of a future teller, or what?

He was a damn good storyteller. I finished the entire bottle of 24 years old whiskey by the time he was finished. I was laughing abruptly. He paused. “It’s easy to create chaos. Do you want to see?” he asked me. I nodded, “Sure, Prophet,” I smirked. He took the empty bottle in his hand and threw it towards the shelf full of bottles. The sound of shattered glass echoed across the bar filled with people. I couldn’t believe what just happened. He reached out to the table beside ours and grabbed their bottle and threw it towards the direction of another shelf. Then he just left me there. “Sorry about the collateral”, was his last words before the black overcoat flapped away from me. The people in the bar thought he was my buddy and I was confronted, harassed, and attacked until they verified the footage from the camera. Before that, it was absolute chaos. I don't know how he managed to run away. But now I remember the rest of the story clearly.

Could it be? It seems like he got his revenge. Happiness is missing from the world, somehow. His wish has come true. Did I meet him today in the metro? That would be a gigantic coincidence.

Wait does it matter? I guess not.

Probably he really killed happiness to make himself happy. Probably he didn’t. It doesn’t matter to me.

Nothing matters anymore.

#short fiction #fiction #writers #writers on tumblr #literature #short+stories

5 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years

Text

Remember Me ~ Worick Arcangelo x Reader

Disclaimer: This is going to have mentions of past abuse and supposedly illegal behaviour, but considering it’s Gangsta we’re talking about, I don’t think anyone should be surprised by darker themes addresses.

Birthdays...Have always been tedious. A drag. More work than they are worth...So, I wonder...Why do I actually bother doing a party at my home?

I mean, it’s true, I get it, I’m 21, I’m of age...Legally an adult, legally allowed to drink, legally everything whatever...The same as it has been for the past 3 years...

And MAYBE it’s fun to sometimes gather around with your friends and do the same things everyone always does at parties, loud music, alcohol, cigarettes and gossips...

But there is always that annoying anxiety feeling surging through my veins whenever I have to be around more than 3 of my friends, considering this is a party organised by me, and everything has to be done perfectly, everyone must feel good, and at home, not to be left out...

I can already envision myself being the only outcast, anyway, but that’s besides the point.

It’s already evening, the alcohol is sitting on the table, the pizza boxes are stacked up in a mountain on the floor, plastic cups everywhere, ash trays placed strategically, dim lights, coloured light projectors to make the room look like a disco...

And then there’s me. Sitting anxiously on the couch in the living room, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a long plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, along with some silver rings and a necklace. Casual, comfy, yet pretty elegant in its simplicity.

My friends arrived soon, very loudly congratulating me on aging one more year, fantastic...But they had a mischievous smirk on their faces...

And they brought in a tall, blond man who looked very macho, and I could only blink in confusion as everyone walked inside.

“Uhm...Who is he? One of yours boyfriend or something?” I asked, eyeing everyone attentively. “Nooo, silly! He’s our gift for you!” my best friend grabbed the man by his arm, shoving him towards me. “I’m...Not sure I follow.” I spoke with even more unease, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. “He’s Ergastulum’s most wanted Gigolo! And tonight, he’s all yours to do with as you please! C’mon, you deserve to let loose and have fun once in a while, y’know? Forget about all those jerks and enjoy pleasure like you’ve never felt before~!” my other best friend grabbed me by my shoulders from behind, putting her chin on top of one of her hands, slurring seductively. “...I see.” I muttered, looking away, trying to mask my displeasure at what I was hearing. “Anyway, let’s get you drunk! You won’t get to enjoy anything if you’re so cold and reserved with everyone, y’know? Maybe that’s why you’re always alone! Now c’mon, let’s have fun!” she dragged me to the drinks table, and we started playing drinking games like never have I ever...

Gotta say, Vodka and Bailey’s has always been a shot combination that I adore, and I’m grateful that it takes a long time to get me drunk, because these girls are wasted, while I’m not, so I can escape their grasp. Drunk dancing isn’t that fun, even to watch, and they were making fools of themselves, screeching, giggling...More or less sounding like pained donkeys.

Or maybe I’m just too judgemental and mean because I’ve been in a bad mood and spiraling since they got in my home. To be fair, I don’t even care what is the truth. These are my feelings and I’m not going to play them off as insignificant or non-existent.

Eyeing them carefully, I take a pack of cigarettes and make my way out of the house and sit on the stairs, taking a deep breath of the cold winter night air, I light up a cigarette, taking a drag and staring up at the sky, letting my endless train of toxic thoughts overwhelm me.

I was so long in my own mind that I didn’t notice the door opening until a shadow blocked my vision, and I noticed the platinum blond man sitting down on the stairs below me, resting his back on the wall on the side.

“Y’know...I haven’t been to many birthday parties before, but I’m pretty sure the birthday girl is supposed to be pampered and the center of attention, and yet, here you are, outside, alone and sad.” the man spoke seriously, with his usual light glint. “How much did they pay you?” I muttered, lighting another cigarette, realising that the other one burn without taking another drag of it. “Hmmm? What do you mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “I’m tipsy, not stupid. You think I can’t think rationally after 8 shots? You’re dead wrong. Now, tell me, how much did they pay you and what exactly did they tell you to do?” I asked in a pressed tone, side-eyeing him. “You’re certainly perceptive, I give you that. T’was quite a lot of money to spend the night with you.” he tilted his head in a playful way. “Not only they have no faith in me to get someone to even remotely like me...They have to pay someone to do something that I dread with a burning passion. Do you even know my name? I don’t know yours.” I shrugged, hanging my head, gritting my teeth in annoyance. “I see your friends screwed up a bit. Name’s Worick, nice to meet you.” he extended his hand towards me. “...Y/N. Nice to meet you too...I think.” I sighed, staring reluctantly at his hand, before slowly shaking it. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Wanna talk to a guy you’ll never see again? I heard that venting and letting out pent up emotions helps.” he offered, making me look at him with a weird face. “You know you’re not gonna get any action, so you try to do something for the money you earned, huh?” I snorted, raking my fingers through my hair. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Contrary to my profession, I’m a pretty chill guy. What do you have to lose, talking to someone you’ll never see again? And besides, I have little room to judge you, so if that’s your worry, you can throw it away.” he lit up a cigarette, puffing up into the sky. “You’re...Not wrong here. Okay, fine, Pretty Boy. Imagine this. You’re not even of age, you get your first lover and you’re happy. You finally feel superior. Someone gives a fuck about you...That’s the definition of a lover, after all, I guess...But here’s the deal. Barely one month into the relationship, the person starts getting very pushy and pressures you, without you realising. Words and actions. It goes to the point that they force you to do things that you don’t want to and you’re not ready to, mentally or physically...And you can’t do anything except for denying, since they don’t listen and they overpower you. How is that, so far?” I spoke, taking a few breaks in between sentences to keep myself grounded and lucid. “Very suckish. Does any of your friends know that?” Worick asked in a gentle voice. “They do...My two best friends do. The ones who apparently paid you. I don’t know what’s in those tiny brains of theirs, but I don’t think a one night stand is going to somehow magically get me rid of all problems, traumas, self-issues and nightmares I’ve been having for the last years. Or maybe I’m just paranoid. I don’t know, and at this point, I can’t stay that I care.” I shrugged, leaning back on the stairs. “Maybe you have the wrongs friends. I heard words about you that I don’t think friends should speak like that about their so called best friend who trusted them enough with their bad experiences.” he pointed out nonchalantly, as I shifted my gaze towards him with a frown. “After today...I...Think the same. I...Just...Wasn’t expecting something like this. What more can I say. I am disappointed. And if that wasn’t enough, my second boyfriend, who was a virgin, saw my own virginity as a prize. And the third pity-dated me. Can it get any worse? Because, if yes, I honestly give up.” I sighed, ruffling my hair, obviously done with life. “Life sure sucks, huh? And most people don’t make it any better. All we can do is get stronger, carry on, and fight our nightmares.” he nodded in agreement, clearly sympathetic. “...I see you’re speaking from experience. I wonder what happened to your eye...It may sound insensitive, but after what I just told you, I don’t think there’s any more need for caution.” I smirked at him with a dark sort of self-deprecation that I could also sense in him. “Well, y’know...Sometimes parents aren’t the safe haven they ought to be.” he shrugged, extinguishing the finished cigarette on the stairs. “I see. Yeah, life sucks. I guess I can see why you become a Gigolo. An attractive guy selling his body for money...By what they said, you are the most popular. I can see why. I feel sorry for you.” I gave him a sympathetic smile that disappeared as fast as it came. “You have a pretty smile, y’know? I always thought that people who can smile despite all they’ve been through are the strongest.” he commented, smiling back. “Is that why you appear to be so cheerful? You’re strong, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally too? Wish I was the same. Maybe people won’t find me such an easy target to take advantage of.” I snorted sarcastically, making him chuckle. “It’s a pity people are shit to the few remaining ones who don’t give in to society’s awfulness. But what is a sweet girl like you doing in a shithole like Ergastulum? Doesn’t quite add up.” he asked, getting in a better sitting position. “Life happened. Dad left us, and mum is abroad working to get me enough money to go to university by the end of this year. This place, despite how scary and dangerous it is, was the cheapest place I could afford.” I bit my lip, trying not to worry too much about the future. “I’m sure you’re gonna nail it, so don’t worry too much. You seem like a smart girl, so just study hard and don’t forget to enjoy life. By your standards, not others’.” he smirked, tilting his head towards the door. “You’re funny, Worick. I wish we met under different circumstances.” my voice became lower, only to get interrupted by the door slamming open and the girls leaving the place. “Well, look at you two, lovebirds! You look so cuuuuuuuute! Hey, Gigolo, better take good care of her, got it?! The night is still young for you two! Awesome birthday party, as usual, Y/N, see ya next time!” the girls left, making me blush from embarassment, looking away. “You’ve got very sensible friends.” he muttered ironically, shaking his head. “I’ll...Go tidy the apartment. Maybe I’ll be able to focus on something else. Come one, I’ll warm up some pizza.” I shrugged, getting inside the house. “I didn’t think you’d want me around in your home.” Worick pointed out, leaning on a wall. “You got paid to spend the night with me, correct? Then you’ll do what you got paid for. Keeping me company. You have no idea how refreshing it is talking to someone with some fucking brain in their head.” I plopped down on the couch, putting my feet on the table, turning on the TV to a rock music program and patting the seat next to me for him to join. “It’s an honour to spend time with you.” he chuckled, taking a slice of pizza, leaning back on the couch and mimicking my position.

For the rest of the night, he was gracious enough to help me tidy up and clean everything, and when we were finally done, I went to change in my nightgown, taking a book and getting in bed, only to see the man leaning on the frame of the door awkwardly.

“Ah, yes, how could I forget. Let me find some larger clothes for you to change into.” I put the book down, going to the wardrobe and finding some oversized clothes in which I sometimes sleep. “Are these yours?” he chuckled in amusement. “Yep.Gotta be comfy when you sleep, right?” I shrugged, getting back in bed. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s why I sleep naked.” his grin grew wider, making me frown in confusion. “Sleeping naked is comfy for you?” I put the book on my lap, looking at him for an answer. “Did you try?” he asked smugly. “Yeah. I felt incredibly uncomfortable and anxious the for hours and couldn’t sleep. At 4 AM I couldn’t stand it any longer and I put a nightgown on.” I scratched my cheek, looking away. “That’s adorable. What were you reading?” he asked, getting closer to me. “Get changed and you can come over. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. You got paid, you deserve better.” I waved my hand at him dismissively, only for him to leave the room, get changed, take the book from my hand, flip through all the pages, and return it. “Ah, Picture of Dorian Gray. I’ve been wanting to read it for a while, thanks for the opportunity, I have to say, I rather appreciate his monologues.” he gave me a shit-eating grin, plopping in bed next to me. “I...You...Huh?! You can’t tell me you just read THIS book, right now, for the first time in your life, by just flipping rapidly through the pages!” my expression was that of pure shock and disbelief, which clearly amused him. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, sweet cheeks.” he smirked, laying his head down on the pillow. “You...You have an extraordinary visual memory?!” I asked in a voice that I wasn’t sure was heard. “You’ve got that right, darling.” he chuckled with a satisfied smile. “...WHY THE HELL ARE YOU A PROSTITUTE?! YOU ARE A GENIUS! YOU COULD DO SO MUCH MORE WITH YOUR LIFE! EARN AN UNBELIEVABLE AMOUNT OF MONEY! DO YOU HAVE NO AMBITION AND SAFE-LOVE?!” I grab him by the shoulders, shaking him, until he stopped me. “Calm doooown, Y/N, calm down. Thanks for looking out for me, but life is life. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got all I need here. You, however, have the whole life ahead of you, so don’t waste it like I did.” he advised in a soft voice, making me look at him for a few seconds, before sighing, getting up, and picking another book. “We won’t be seeing each other again, will we? Well, if that’s the case, take this. It’s a thanks for being nice to me today...But promise me you will take your time reading it, unlike now. Rest, relax, drink a hot cup of tea, and read each page carefully. Enjoy it, live it, feel it. Can you promise me that?” I asked, handing him the book. “The Hobbit, huh? Pretty cover, intriguing summary on the back...Fine, Y/N. I can’t 100% promise you, but I will try. Are you really willing to part with this one? It seems special for you.” he asked, more serious this time. “...Maybe sometimes the stupid ideas that your heart gives you are better than the rational ones from your brain. Now go sleep, I want to read.” I looked away from him, opening my book and pretending to read, away from him.

Five minutes passed, then ten, and fifteen, all of them in a deadly silence, almost awkward, until a chuckle split the atmosphere, making me turn around, looking at the man with a confused look.

“Usually, when people read, they turn the page after five minutes. What’s on your mind?” he asked, taking a strand of my hair and loosely twirling it with his finger. “..Well...You’re a stranger. And...We’ve only talked for a few hours. I know it makes no sense to ask this of you, but...I won’t be seeing you tomorrow anyway, so...Uhm...Do you think...I'm...Cold and mean...And unapproachable?” I mutter, looking away from him. “Not at all. I find you very endearing. The quiet ones are always the ones who have the best surprises once you get to know them. People deal with problems differently, it just takes the right person to want to understand you.” he kissed the strand of hair, making me bite my lip and turn off the lap light so my possibly pink cheeks won’t be noticeable. “Great. Thanks for the info. Now...How about you earn the money you got paid? You can do that by holding me and playing with my hair until I fall asleep.” I try to keep my voice from wavering. “You don’t have to put that pretext as a front, I would do that even if I wasn’t paid.” he chuckled lightly, holding me close to his chest, his fingers masterfully soothing my senses as he caressed by hair. “...Thanks.” I muttered, hiding my flustered face in his chest. “I have insomnia and general sleeping problems, including sleep paralysis and nightmares...And the only thing that used to be able to put me to sleep without waking up in the middle of the night would be mum holding me and playing with my hair until I fell asleep.” I confessed, my voice becoming softer and more emotional. “Thank you for trusting me with this precious memory, Y/N. It’s going to be okay. Now close your eyes...Sweet dreams, Y/N.” his peaceful, velvety voice was the last thing I heard before falling into a restful and calm sleep, for the first time in ages.

When morning came and I woke up, the bed was empty on the side that Worick was and I almost feared I imagined the whole thing...Until I noticed a piece of paper on the pillow where he slept.

“You’re a beautiful person, don’t let the darkness take over you. I hope to hear from you again, in the future, under better circumstances. ~ Worick”

To that, a phone number was written, and the first thing that came into my mind was to get that it tattooed on my body so I won’t lose it. Of course, that will never happen, so I’ll settle for writing it everywhere I can.

For some reason, I wanted to make him proud, and I still had no idea why, so I only called him once a year, on my birthday, and on that day, we would chat on the phone all night, in memory of that night. Finally leaving Ergastulum to go to University and get a better life for myself was something revolutionary for me, but after over 6 years, I managed to do just that. However, there was something that never left my brain, and that was the platinum haired man that completely changed the way I viewed life and how to approach it.

And I returned to Ergastulum after almost a decade.

I was dressed in a cute dress, and this time, unlike last time, a confident smile was on my face. Even though it’s fake, I adopted the “Fake it till you make it” motto, and nobody has to know about my problems.

I vibe.

Asking around for Worick, I find out he works as the Benriya with another man called Nicolas, who’s a tag, and even better, I got his address, so I knew just where to go.

As I entered the shabby apartment that was, for some reason, unlocked, I see a meek looking woman sitting on the couch, looking down.

“Did Worick get a girlfriend?” I leaned on the wall, a playful smirk on my face. “Wh-What?! G-Girlfriend?! W-Wait, who are you?!” she shot up to her feet, looking at me with big, blue doe eyes, frightened, might I say. “You’re adorable. What’s your name? And can I ask where Worick is? I’ve been told this is where he lives.” I played with a strand of my hair, trying not to intimidate the girl...Too much. “U-Uhm...He...He’s in his room...Who are you, miss?” she asked, trying to get some courage. “A friend, I’d like to think. From about ten years ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me...” I was ready to go look for him, only for a door to open, and the man in cause to appear, wearing only black boxers, and stretching...He obviously just woke up. “Ally? What’s all the noise?” he yawned loudly, rubbing his eyes. “Do you have a cute nickname for me too, Worick?” I smirked at him, as he widened his single eye, his jaw dropping in shock. “Y/N...?” he muttered my name, making me grin widely. “Glad you remember me. It has been quite a while since we’ve seen each other...And you age like fine wine, I’m telling you...You’re a sight for sore eyes.” he chuckled softly, only for him to come and pick me up, spinning a bit, before putting me down, cupping my face and kissing my forehead, leaving me a surprised and flustered mess. “And look at you! Can you get prettier than this? I told ya, you have a beautiful smile!” he grinned childishly, pinching my cheeks, making me yelp in pain and slap his hands away. “Jerk! That hurts! Ahem...Anyway, dear Gigolo, how are you? I heard some stuff about you working with someone named Nicolas...But I doubt her name is Nicolas.” I chuckled, pushing him softly away. “Oh, yes! Y/N, this is Alex, our new friend. You can say she’s kinda...Our secretary? I guess? Anyway, come over, we have a lot to catch up on!” he guided me to his bedroom that was, unsurprisingly, messy. “Wonderful and clean, just as expected. Have you ever thought of opening the window?” I teased him, plopping on his bed that was unexpectedly soft. “You, lazy little vixen...Here. I bought it years ago, after finishing the book you gave me, and I wanted to find out more. Now, I’m giving it to you. Are we even?” he smirked, handing me a copy of Fellowship of the Ring book. “We’d be even if I’d spend the night over as well. And if you gave me drinks and pizza. Basically a date. That will do.” I told him, looking dearly at the book I got gifted, although I already read it before. “My God, since when are you so bold?” he asked, getting on the bed, resting his chin on my knees, looking at me like a happy puppy. “Did you miss me, Worick? I hope you did, otherwise that little piece of paper you left would be incredibly disappointing and misleading.” I pointed out, booping his nose. “I’ve been thinking about you since then. By the looks of it, so did you. Are you sure you want a date with someone like me? You are beautiful, you are brilliant, your attitude in endearing as hell...And I’m still a Gigolo and my life is here, in Ergastulum. Don’t regret it later on.” he asked with a more serious tone, only for me to scoff and pull on his hair playfully. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise. Besides...Unlike you, I don’t need to be paid to spend quality time with you, doing nothing but chilling and chatting.” I teased him, making him laugh, as he plopped next to me, poking my cheek. “Great, problem solved! You’ve got yourself a parasite latching on you. Good luck getting rid of him now.” he grinned cheekily, only for me to cup his face and pull him into a kiss. “Why would I wanna get rid of a parasite this cute? Now shut up and hold me, it’s been ten years and I’m touch starved.” I grinned, nuzzling in the crook of his neck. “Damn, how I missed you.” he held me tightly to his chest, occasionally peppering my face with kisses.

It was definitely worth coming back to this God Forsaken place, even if it is for only one person. There’s place for everyone in this world, and in others’ hearts, and I found my place, in Worick’s warm arms, where I feel safest and most loved.

255 notes · View notes

rpd-rookie · 4 years

Text

Made in Heaven - Chris Redfield x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Author’s note: This was request by @deshibasarathings. Sorry it took so long. I really wanted to write something original and that looked different from all the other Chris fanfics I read on this subject. Hope you’ll like it

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Language, Alcohol

It was summer 1998 and as America was still lovingly dancing on “Truly Madly Deeply” on Friday nights, watching Titanic for the umpteenth time at the nearby movie theatre, wearing tight crop tops, colourful scrunchies and Dr Martens, and occasionally gossiping on the Lewinsky scandal at lunch break, Raccoon City was living its last frivolous moments, and the saddest part was that no one had a clue.

“A fresh beer and a girl. That’s all I’m asking for.” Joseph Frost jumped over the door of the old convertible green mustang with enthusiasm, his usual excited smile stretching his young tanned face. “That’s it, you’re sure?” His dear friend, Forest Speyer, asked with an ounce of sarcasm that he didn’t get. “Fine. A bunch of fresh beers and a girl.” He winked, clicking his fingers cheekily towards Forest who sighed out of exasperation. “Always so optimistic, I see. When will you finally get that there is no woman for you when you go out with Redfield and me?” He scoffed and Joseph’s smile faded away in an instant to turn into a rather sad pout. “Tell him, Chris.” “Actually guys, I’m alright with just having beers tonight.” Chris confessed as he put the keys of his car in his pocket. “As if it’s gonna change anything. All the chicks will be crawling at your feet anyway, begging you to notice them and forgetting the existence of our delusional friend over there.” Forest waved towards Joseph who glared at him, slightly vexed. A chance the man was not resentful. “Then I’ll introduce them to Jo.” Chris tapped his friend’s shoulder and Joseph regained his smile. “That’s what I call friendship. Thank you, buddy.” “You know that abstinence won’t make Y/N give herself to you, right?” Speyer mocked; hoping that teasing Chris a bit would make him follow him on the path of seduction, however degrading he had planned it to be. “Jealousy, however …” He raised his eyebrows and Chris shook his head. “One-night stands are your thing, Forest. Not mine.” “Weird cause I can remember a couple times when I saw you discreetly leave the bar with a girl on your arm. But that was certainly before Y/N’s sweet round ass joined the team.” He mimed a squeezing motion with both his hands, his tongue raunchily caressing his lips as he sneered, a gesture that made Chris punch him in the arm in retaliation.

He knew what Forest wanted. His friend’s little game was pretty clear even for someone as blunt as Chris. But he was not in the mood to play tonight. And to be honest, he hadn’t been for the last six months or so, ever since you had entered his life with your wit and charming smile and had brought him back to his old high schooler self, meaning goofy and rather unconfident (minus the acne and the greasy hair obviously). “You don’t get it, do you?” “No, I don’t. Do you get it, Jo?” Joseph Frost shook his head in a rather silly way, a bit like a contorted puppet. “See. No one gets it.” Chris sighed. “Come on, man! You’re not a fucking priest! So stop drooling over that chick and stop waiting for her. She clearly doesn’t give a damn about you contrary to other millions of women as gorgeous as her who’ll gladly throw themselves at you in a heartbeat. And I’m pretty sure some of them are in this bar, right now.”

The worst thing about Forest Speyer – apart from his disgusting machismo and his arrogance - was that he was often right, his insight being most of the time spot-on. And as the three friends entered the bar, Chris couldn’t help but notice his colleague was once again astoundingly correct since the second he stepped a foot in Jack’s Bar, adjusting his brown leather jacket around his muscular body, a pair of Ray-ban Aviator à la Top Gun hanging from the collar of his military-green V-neck, more than one head turned to goggle at him and only him. But it wasn’t Chris’ nature to brag or to strut and so he simply approached a clean table with his friends, ignoring the stares, and waved hello at Cindy Lennox behind the counter. She immediately welcomed them with her usual warmth. “Same as usual, boys?” “Always.” They answered in unison and the waitress chuckled before disappearing to pour them their drinks. “What about Cindy?” Joseph whispered with a naughty smirk as he bent over the table to make sure his friend would hear him over the sound of the music. “Damn, you’re horny, Jo!” Chris declared, slightly shocked that his friend would consider getting laid with the woman that had been serving them beers every Saturday night for the last two years. “Of course, I’m horny. I haven’t fucked in weeks guys.” “Meaning months.” Forest corrected. “Besides, I think Cindy’s got a man.” Joseph cursed, disappointed. “All that is Irons’ fault. Do you know how many extra hours I did because of that bastard?” “No” Chris and Forest said at the same time with an amused smile. “Well me neither. But a lot, I’m sure.”

“Aren’t you tired of bitching about Irons, Joseph?” Joseph’s olive face suddenly became very pale as he jumped on his chair. “Y/N! You scared the shit out of me. Thought it was Irons for a sec.” You frowned, not sure how to react to the comparison. “Really? I didn’t know I had a pervy man’s voice.” “That’s not what I meant.” He mumbled and you chuckled finding certain amusement in his discomfort. “Oh Joseph, always so talented with women, I see.” The men around the table chuckled apart from Joseph who was as red as a tomato now. “Anyway, I was at Jill’s. She told me I could find you guys here.” “You wanted to see us?” Speyer grinned and winked as he elbowed Chris’ ribs who immediately glared at him. “Jeez, discreet. Thanks.” He murmured and looked at you. Your brows were furrowed because of how strange the situation seemed to you. You had never seen Chris and Forest acting that way. “Are you guys drunk already?” “If only.” Joseph sighed as he took a mouthful of his beer. “Don’t mind them, Y/N. That’s just the way they behave outside of work. Lame I know.” You nodded despite being totally unconvinced. Now you understood why Jill was never willing to join their little merry band on Saturday nights. What better way to avoid toxic masculinity than staying home watching a good old movie, dressed in pj’s?

“And there it goes away again. Y/N enters the room and bye-bye friendship.” You wondered if you should say something about this, genuinely curious to know what Speyer meant, but the second you opened your mouth to ask for an explanation you chose to revise your decision. “I wanted to say goodbye.” The three pair of eyes widened at you in shock. “Goodbye?” Chris repeated, his incomprehension easily readable in his chocolate brown eyes. “My resignation letter was accepted. Got the news today.” “Wait. What? What resignation letter?” The questions came as thick and fast as sub-machine gun bullets. You agreed that the news was more than unexpected but the way Chris sounded was more than surprising. It was a if he was distressed. And he was in a way. What do you mean you were leaving? You couldn’t leave. And especially not drop the news at the last minute. “Yeah. I didn’t tell you guys about it because I wasn’t sure Irons would actually accept it but I’m quitting the S.T.A.R.S. and the RPD.”

There was a heavy silence that even the shitty music in the background couldn’t make less awkward. But that silence was necessary. The boys needed to digest the news. “May we ask why?” Despite not being a close friend, Joseph looked rather confused and even a bit sad. Clearly no one had seen the bomb coming. And who would have? After all, you were such a workaholic; always telling people how much you loved your job. This resignation, that didn’t sound like you. “Long story. But let’s say I don’t think my place is with you anymore guys.” A lie but you thought it was better to avoid the truth, knowing that your three colleagues would certainly hit the roof – especially Chris - if they happened to learn the real reason behind your resignation. “So, I’m gonna take off now. Enjoy your night and don’t make Jill blow a fuse while I’m gone. And hands off Rebecca!” You pointed a menacing finger at Speyer who immediately laughed. “Can’t promise you that.”

You waved them goodbye with a faint smile and walked away towards the exit of the bar, saddened that this was possibly the last time you would ever see the Three Musketeers (as you liked to call them). They watched you leave in silence, still not believing the unexpected news. “Can’t believe I’m actually gonna say this but … the office’s gonna look so empty without Y/N” Forest declared. “Tell me about it.” Chris’ voice was suddenly weary and miserable. To him, you were the sunshine of the office, the star of the S.T.A.R.S, always illuminating people with your good mood and your joie de vivre. Hell, you were probably the only one who could laugh to his dad jokes without pretending. “Then what are you waiting for then?” Speyer said to Chris. “Go after her.” “I can’t.” Chris sighed. “And what for?” He took a long mouthful of beer that almost emptied the glass. Perhaps getting drunk would help him digest the fact that you were leaving. “ So you’re just gonna let her leave without telling her how you feel? I thought you were more courageous than that.” Chris’ stein hit the table with a loud clink. “And what would it change?” Chris almost shouted. “She’s leaving. She’s made her decision. Telling her how I feel won’t change it.”

And yet he chose to give it a try.

He rushed to his car to drive after you. He rapidly found you, walking up towards the main avenue near the police station certainly to catch a train to go back to your place near St Michael’s Clock Tower. “Y/N” He shouted and you frowned, astonished to see him here. “Chris? What are you doing?” “ Let me drive you home.” Normally, you would have refused, being the kind of woman that liked to do things by herself. But there was something in the way Chris was looking at you that actually convinced you to get in his car.

The ride back to your place was rather quiet, the only voice echoing in the Mustang being Freddy Mercury’s singing on the radio. “I always knew you were a Queen fan.” You said to lighten the mood. “Is it written on my forehead?” “Just on your jacket, Made in Heaven.” You winked and smiled when Chris finally chuckled. “How’s gonna call me that when you’re gone?” Your grin faded away as you wondered almost the same thing. Who will you call ‘Made in Heaven’ after you’re gone? That was a nickname reserved for Chris, one you had found when you were having trouble memorising everyone’s names at the office and that had stayed because of how smiley Chris was each time you were calling him that. “I can ask Forest to call you that if you want. I’m sure he’d love to.” Chris had a faint smile. “Certainly. But it won’t be the same.” You could tell he was really affected by your departure and was struggling to say something. But even if you wanted to know what was going on in his head right now, curiosity eating you up, you decided to give him time. Surely was he just trying to gather the courage he needed to talk.

When you both arrived at your place, Chris was still silent and thoughtless. “Do you want to come in?” You thought that a drink might do him some good and help him. He accepted the offer and followed you towards your apartment.

The main room was messy and cluttered with a dozen of boxes already. Most of them were full of old books, VHS and CDs. “I see you’ve started packing.” “Yes, sorry about the mess. I just want to leave as soon as possible. Beer?” Chris nodded and you disappeared in the kitchen, leaving him alone in your living room. “This doesn’t sound like you.” Chris finally said and you froze, your hand holding the fridge open. You briefly closed your eyes and sighed soundlessly. Of course, he had noticed. “What do you mean?” “Quitting. Leaving. This isn’t you.” You took a deep breath and joined him back in the living room where he was standing straight as a ramrod, a confused frown wrinkling his forehead. “The S.T.A.R.S is your life. You said it yourself. So enough with the ‘my place is not with you’ bullcrap.” He almost sounded angry but you knew all to well that you were not the target of his anger. “It’s complicated.” You confessed as you handed him the bottle of beer. “Y/N, I know I’m not the smartest man but I think I can understand the real reason why you want to resign if you just tell me. Aren’t we friends?” “Of course.” You harrumphed; astonished that he might doubt that. “Then tell me. Spit it out. What happened? Why are you leaving?”

You looked through the window, scanning at the small buildings surrounding your apartment before finally deciding to draw the thick curtain to hide yourself from whoever might be watching right now. Chris observed you wondering why you were doing this and tried to say something when he saw you heading towards your phone. You gestured him to stay quiet as you unplugged the device. “Alright. You’re starting to scare me. Can you tell me what’s going on?” “Let’s say I’m in deep shit.” You waved Chris to sit on your couch next to you and he obeyed, staring at you with confusion and worry. “Weeks ago I started secretly investigating on Irons after the secretary he had employed last April weirdly disappeared.” “You did what?” Chris harrumphed. “Are you crazy? Do you know how dangerous this is?” You nodded. “He found out.” “Shit, Y/N” Chris cursed. He was furious. “I had no choice, Chris. Something weird's going on. I can feel it. And I’m sure something happened to his secretary as well.” “She quitted! Daniels from the reception said he received a letter.” Chris replied. “Then why is her stuff still at the RPD and why hasn’t her rent been paid since last month?” The man frowned, trying to find a coherent answer. But he found none. “I found her diary when I sneaked in her office. She wrote that Irons used to get off in his office watching a portrait of a hanged naked woman. And did you know that he was accused of rape back when he was in college? This son of a bitch …” “Alright. Stop, Y/N!” Chris cut you off and took a deep breath to evacuate the panic that was rushing in his veins. “How much in trouble are you?” You shrugged. “Enough to be the object of intense surveillance.”

Chris hid his face in his big hands. He was scared for you, genuinely terrified even. “What can I do to help?” He asked. “Tell me. I’ll do anything.” “Chris.” You sighed. “Y/N” He grabbed your hand. “I care about you. More than you imagine. I can’t let anything happen to you.” You had a faint smile. How could a man be so adorable, compassionate and caring? “You’re an amazing man, Made in Heaven. You do know that?” Chris returned your smile. “But I can handle this on my own. Believe me. Just promise me to keep this a secret and act as if you didn’t know anything. “You can’t ask me to do that, Y/N. You can’t…”

You cut him short by pressing your lips against his, which made Chris almost gasp in astonishment. But the surprise didn’t last and he soon responded to your kiss with an adorable tenderness. “Promise me, Chris.” You whispered still so close to his pink lips as you kept looking at him in the eye, waiting for his answer. “I promise.” And he kissed you again. It was soft and sweet and tasted a bit like beer but you didn’t mind. In fact, you even allow yourself to touch his chest and bring your body closer to his. The hardness of his muscles against your palms made you shiver and Chris felt it. He smiled and he caught your lips again as he pressed his big hand on your lower back. You cupped his cheek to deepen the kiss and then everything suddenly became more passionate and burning.

Chris’s lips ventured towards your neck to leave a series of hot humid kisses and possibly hickeys that would certainly last a few days. But you would bother about that later. For now, you just wanted to melt under his touch. So, you instinctively tilted your head backwards to give him full access to your soft neck, moaning because of how delicious his mouth felt there. Your little noise of pleasure instantly awakened something inside Chris, something he felt deep in his guts, deep in his pants. His kisses became hungrier and more needy. He wanted to hear you again.

He laid you down on your back and lay on top of you, his lips still devouring your neck and his now adventurous hands wandered towards your chest. His body felt slightly heavy but you loved this unusual exquisite proximity. “Chris.” You sighed as he suddenly groped your breasts through your shirt. When he tried to unbutton it you put yours hands on his to stop him. “What?” He asked “You don’t want this?” “Sure I want this. More than anything. But I don’t want you to … I don’t want to hurt you. I’ll still leave tomorrow. You do realise that right?” He stared at you and you could read the sadness slowly growing back in his chocolate brown eyes. “It’s goodbye then” You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s goodbye.” “Then let’s make the most of it.”

To your surprise, Chris’ face met your cleavage rather quickly and he began kissing it as he blindly yet clumsily unbuttoned your shirt. You watched him do for a small moment and when you noticed how aroused he was, you decided to free him from his clothes as well. You took his letter jacket off and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt to pull it off. And goodness, how dreamy he was. Those muscles. Those arms. Those shoulders. Those pectorals. Those abs … aaaah. It frustrated you as much as it aroused you. How could someone be that perfect? You bit your lower lip and dared caress him and as your hand slid against his warm skin, right between his abs down to the button of his jeans, following the dark hairy line below in navel. “Like what you’re seeing?” He snickered and you smiled, loving his sudden confidence. “Do you?” He grinned and let out a small laugh. “Of course. You’re beautiful” He complimented as he freed your boobs from your bra without taking it off only to take one of your nipples in his mouth. “Holy … ah.” You moaned uproariously as you let your head fall against the armrest of the couch.

You felt Chris smirk against your tender flesh. The bastard knew what he was doing and he was fucking proud of it. You could play that game too. You grabbed him by the belt, pulling him closer to your body for your pelvis to meet his. However, what you didn’t expect was for his prominent bulge to feel so hard and huge against you even through the fabric. Chris was certainly quite a big boy. Slowly, you unbuttoned his jeans and lowered them all along with his briefs. His cock sprang free, confirming your previous hypothesis about it. It was indeed big, bigger than anything you ever had, and hard and long and… You slightly squeezed your thighs and rubbed them. You were wet. You could feel it. And you wanted desperately some friction. You quickly glanced at your womanhood and let your fingers crawl under your skirt and soaked panties. Your clit was engorged and your lips were swollen. And Chris was watching you silently, wondering how the wet pink flesh felt. “Wait. Let me” He lifted up your ass and pulled down your panties to carelessly throw onto the floor. Your legs spread, he looked down between them, staring at your glistening fold with a dark hunger in his eyes. He caressed you softly, very softly and you moaned between your closed lips as you instinctively embraced his delicate touch by moving your hips closer to his hand. You wanted more. And he would give you more.

His fingers parted your lips to meet your clit with his thumb and he brushed your warm entrance to finally insert a finger inside you. You whispered his name with pleasure and it jolted Chris as if he had received a punch in his lower stomach, but a delicious exhilarating punch. He started pumping his finger in your pussy, forcing a cry of pleasure out of your mouth, and soon he added another digit to go and tickle your g-spot that he found with incredible accuracy. When you started convulsing and felt your orgasm building in you, you pushed Chris’ fingers away to pull his body against yours.

Laid on you, Chris instinctively began to rubbing him against your, his cock grinding between your legs, so close to your entrance. You grabbed his back and dug your nails in it. The friction was sending you slowly back towards heaven. “Oh my god, Chris.” His pace accelerated until it began relentless and soon, he started panting rather heavily. “Fuck.” He cursed as he quickly lined up his cock in front of your hole to enter your pussy, unable to resist the urge of filling you up anymore. He didn’t sink in you as easily as expected and so he grabbed the armrest of the couch to use it as leverage and push himself deep in you. That thrust made you draw a sharp breath and a whimper of both pain and pleasure escaped your sealed mouth. That girth, holy shit! “Damn, you’re so tight.” He started moving in you. He was slow but intense but little did you know that he was just warming up. “Fuck, Chris!”

You screamed when his cock started rubbing against a zone inside of you you never thought existed. You clang to the sofa afraid to fall under the strength of his deep hard thrust. You were loud and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d ever been that loud. Your previous boyfriend would have asked you to be quiet and think about the neighbour but Chris, Chris seemed to like your screams. It was all over his smiling face.

He suddenly grabbed both your legs and placed your feet on his shoulders. A position that allowed his long shaft to go even deeper in you, which you never thought was possible. And judging by how red and twisted his young features looked right now, he was definitely enjoying the position. Actually, he loved it so much he quickened the pace and started growling. You marvelled at his sweaty strong body and at his face tensed by intense pleasure “Gosh, Y/N. You’re driving me crazy.” You smiled.

You could watch him fuck you like that for ages. It was a real boost for your self-confidence. And God knows what you were capable when you felt confident. You spread your thighs and wrapped your legs around Chris to hoist yourself against his chest, his cock miraculously still inside of you. Guess having such a size had many perks. You wanted to ride him and he immediately got your intention. Hands squeezing your rear, he leant against the backrest of the couch and chuckled as you comfortably placed yourself on top of him and started undulating on his lap, his cock amazingly buried in you. “Gosh you have no idea how beautiful you are.” You blushed and he tucked a strand of your hair behind you ear. Your eyes met and you stared at each other quietly before you eventually felt the need to grind against him. The depth of his thick dick inside of you was sending shivers in your entire body. That was incredible. You kept a pace that pleased you both. “You’re so good.” He confessed as he took a deep breath. “Are you gonna come for me, Made in Heaven?” You teased. “That’s very likely.” He chortled, amused by the nickname. Your hands leant on his muscular thighs, right behind your back, and you began bouncing on his cock with an incredible agility and eagerness that left Chris amazed. And you could tell by the way he was panting that he wouldn’t last long. Not a surprise. This love-making was certainly the most exquisite you had ever had. His throbbing cock hitting you deep inside was amazing, just as the melody of sweaty skins meeting each other accompanied by the wet sound of your cunt and the creaking of the couch under both your weights.

Chris placed his hands on your bouncing breasts to grope them. “If you keep going like that I’m gonna cum in you.” He declared between two groans. “Please do”. He made you lean forward and brought your breasts to his mouth to lick them and suck the nipples. “I want you to” You gripped his hair without even realising it. It was a reflex, a way to have him … feel him closer to you, to tell him not to stop. “I want your cum in me, Chris.”

That was too sexy and naughty for Chris who let out a frustrated animalistic growl as he squeezed you butt, digging his nails in the tender flesh. He began pounding you from underneath, hard, fast and deep like a jackhammer, his balls slapping against your butt. You cried out. The sensation was divine and took all your words away. Now only plaintive onomatopoeias seemed to be able escape your agape mouth. Well, onomatopoeias and some very casual “Fuck, Chris” that would make your lover chuckle or smirk proudly.

And that’s how you felt it coming. That so well-deserved orgasm, ready to burst like a firework. It made you cry out and nestle your head in Chris’s neck, your body convulsing like never before. But Chris wanted to see you. He wanted to see your face as you were cumming for him. He wanted to carve that moment to play it over and over after you were gone. And so he pulled up your hair to make you look at him. But you couldn’t. Your eyes were tightly closed and refused to open. And then, it all came out. And you screamed his name, on and on, loud, so loud you were sure the neighbours would probably shout at you tomorrow but you did not care. You let your juices flow along his cock and your wall clench around him. “Damn. Fuuucck.” He growled and his moves became very sloppy yet more brutal and deeper. “Don’t you squeeze around me like that” But you couldn’t help it. That climax felt too good. Chris felt too good.

It sent him over the edge. He came hard in you, hot and sticky semen spurting in your vagina, painting your walls like nothing else. And you loved it, enjoying it the warm sensation with an amazed amused little laugh that made Chris chuckle despite his tiredness. “What’s so funny?” He asked. “Nothing. Just telling myself that this... was made in heaven” You winked and he laughed. You were gonna miss him.

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #resident evil #one shot #answer request

198 notes · View notes

miss-choco-chips · 4 years

Text

College au part 2

Home, a place where I can go to take this off my shoulders- someone take me home (Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors & Bebe Rexha – Home)

They are there for each other, the good and the bad. That’s what family is for, after all.

-.-.-.-.-.-

-I'm so gay -sighed Miguel almost dreamingly, stopping next to Slobo by the doors leading to the backyard.

Blissfully unaware of them, Tim was going through his usual routine of what seemed a mix of gymnastics, various martial arts and parkour, with a side of dancing to spice things up.

His friend snorted without even raising his eyes from the motorcycle engine he was trying to fix. A blasphemy, in Miguel's humble opinion, to have such an amazing view and to not take advantage of it.

-I know.

He dropped to the ground, head resting on Slobo's shoulder, gaze unwavering in his appreciation of slim muscles and perfectly controlled strength. Tamed power to the fullest.

-I mean like, really really gay.

-Yeah, what else is new? Pass me the motor oil.

He blindly patted the ground for it, picking something vaguely shaped like a can and thrusting it to where he thought were the other's hands.

When Tim bends over and starts stretching, Miguel wheezes and drops the can.

-I'm so stupidly, non functionally gay.

Slobo rolled his eyes and picked it up, his other hand going to close Miguel’s jaw.

-Dude that's all old news. Either come here with fresh gossip, be helpful, or leave. I don't need you making a mess of my stuff. You are getting your hormones all over my individual bubble.

Miguel sighed again, eyes almost physically turning into hearts when Tim stretched his arms over his head.

-Fuck, I can’t handle this much inner gay. It’s overwhelming.

-Nothing inner about it, dude. You’re dripping it all over my work station. Can’t you go be a disaster gay somewhere else?

-Tim is here, so no can do.

-Can’t you just ask him out and save us all the pining show and second hand embarrassment?

A few meters away, Tim had taken out the bo staff and was practicing some moves. He accidentally brushed a branch (a thick one, from the pine tree Kon’s grandparents had made him plant upon moving there), and snapped it in half. He seemed kinda sheepish about it, which was both adorable and terrifying. Miguel was scared and horny.

-He’d destroy me.

Slobo hummed, hand reaching up to pat Miguel in the shoulder.

-Sounds like something you’d be kinda into, though.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-This coffee tastes like dirt -complained Tim, while chugging half the pot in one long gulp.

Distantly, Cassie noted there was still steam coming out of the liquid. Hadn’t Tim just brew it? Also, was it completely dark? No sugar?

Like her future?

Despairingly, she let her head fall again on the table.

-Why did I get into politics?

-Your pathological need to fulfill Diana’s expectations -replied Cissie, sitting across from her, long hair in what could have been a bun once upon a time but now looked more like a bird’s nest. That had been hit by lighting. Repeatedly.

It strangely suited her. Or it could be Cassie’s adoration for her friend speaking, who the fuck knows.

-Which, I might add -interjected Tim, not waiting for them to say ‘you may’ before continuing. Because he was a rude bastard like that- you invented by yourself. Diana only hopes you don’t end up in jail. And if it's for the right causes, she might even forgive that.

He dropped to the ground for no discernible reason, back to the cabinets where they kept the fine cutlery they never used. He was staring at the halfway empty pot like it contained the key to conquering mankind.

Knowing Tim, it might actually be true.

-Don’t try to take over the world -she asked, worried he might. Cissie made a confused sound, not privy to Cassie’s internal monologue, but Tim just nodded distractedly, which was all she needed before turning back to her half done paper.

-How are you doing, sis?

-Sis like sister, o Ciss like Cissie? -came Tim’s voice from behind her, probably still sitting on the ground.

-Yes.

-Oh -the girl in front of her blinked- sorry, you were talking to me?

-I mean… Tim is not ‘sis’.

-I resent that, I totally could be. Also, seriously, why does my coffee taste like dirt?

-Don’t drink it then. You were saying, honey?

Cassie rested her chin on a hand, elbow carefully to the side of her paper.

-How are you doing?

-Wondering why did I ever thought studying psychology was a good idea. Why? Who started me on this path, and can I punch them? -her voice raised higher and higher the more distressed she got- Tim? Do you remember?

-Your therapist back in high school got you out of your toxic home life and helped you basically re-build your sense of self worth. Also you like to get into everyone’s business so Kon suggested making a career out of it.

-Remind me to punch him later.

-You could break your hand, and you have an archery competition this friday.

-Kick him, then.

-Got ya.

-Can I just die? -interjected Cassie, phone at hand. Her screen displayed a text sent by a classmate, who updated her on their due date. Apparently, she had calculated wrong and it was way sooner than what she thought- What’s the worst that could happen if I die? I’m sure people would get over it.

-You’d be losing all the progress you made in your career so far -reminded her Cissie.

Tim’s voice joined from behind- Included, but not limited to, that one class you had with the douche professor. Imagine if you lost your progress and had to start over. Imagine having class with him again.

She shivered- That was both incredibly motivational, and unholily terrorizing.

Greta entered the kitchen then. She looked fresh and cute, which was probably due to her having a full night’s sleep.

-Wow, you three have been here the whole night? -she asked, obviously concerned, looking over Cissie’s shoulder at her assignment- Did you guys even make progress? At all? -her eyes discovered Tim’s half assed project, on the place next to where Cissie sat.

If Cassie didn’t love her so much, she would punch her in the face.

Tim sighed.

-I can’t get up. I can’t feel my legs -he admitted. Cassie thinks, she should be worried. Losing sensibility seemed like a serious problem. But, whatever, Greta was here, and she was perfectly well rested. Let her take care of the worrying.

-Tim? Oh my god, are you alright? -she rushed to his side.

-I think the coffee stopped making effect, and my three-on-a-row all nighters caught up to me. Just let me die, Greta. If coffee is not longer working on my body, I might as well let the grim reaper do its thing.

Cassie couldn’t see her any longer, since she was at her back by Tim’s side, but she could still somehow sense her concern growing.

-Tim... Did you use this bag by the coffee maker to brew it?

-I can’t move my head to look up at what you’re pointing, but I guess I did.

-Oh, honey… that is soil for Kon’s vegetable plot. Not coffee grounds.

-...so that’s why it tasted like dirt. Thank god. Excuse me while I faint.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-I think Conner is dead on our living room -announced Miguel entering the kitchen. Slobo, Anita and Greta didn’t even blink, just kept their... poker? game going.

-He’s probably just sleeping -the other man waved a hand dismissively- Did you check his pulse or something?

-Ew, no. What if he’s really dead? I don’t want to touch a corpse. Greta, you go touch it.

-Why me?

-If anyone will need to put their fingerprints in a veritable crime scene, who better than the only one with no criminal record?

-Tim doesn't have it either, go knock on his door and tell him to do it. I’m about to swindle both these jerks.

-There’s a difference between never getting caught by the police, and erasing all virtual proof of your crimes. Tim belongs to the second group. Also, last I checked, he and Bart were working on something on his room. I’m not approaching that danger zone without protective equipment.

-Speaking of -Slobo raised his head, looking around- has anyone bought them food in the last couple of hours?

-Kon, probably.

-He is dead -he reminded them- Cassie and Cissie are still asleep, and I’m not waking them up. Greta?

Out of their group, Conner was Tim and Bart’s official handler (when Tim was not micromanaging them all, at least; little control freak). Many people believed he lifted at the gym to get all the girls; in truth, as the boy had once told Miguel, it was so he could carry both his friends to bed in one trip to tuck them in at the same time, because if he did it separately, the one that got to be second always tried to make a run for it.

In the event he was unavailable, Cassie took over. Her skills with a lasso and years of practice at the rodeo came in handy then, and it never failed to crack him up when he saw how swiftly she caught them both.

And if she wasn’t close or was busy, then Cissie took over for Bart and Greta for Tim, as they could only handle one at the time.

The rest of them were last resource. Second to last was Jason Todd, who as both Tim’s brother and Bart’s TA held a fair amount of power over them.

If Jason told them to fuck off, then Slobo, Miguel and Anita would talk it out among themselves. Slobo would suggest knocking them out. Which, considering Bart’s speed and Tim’s mindblowing ninja training (and where the hell did he learn that, they would never know), wasn’t a very realistic option. Anita suggested drugs; but between Bart’s ADHD medication and Tim’s antibiotics for his lack of spleen and antidepressants, the adverse effects made them all a little uncomfortable with the idea.

Miguel’s own suggestions, which involved a lot of tender care and coddling, where ignored with a few laughs and a shrug.

-Fuck you, I’m not leaving this table so close to cleaning you both up. If you are worried, you go feed them.

Slobo shrugged.

-If they die, I call Tim’s room. Having a roommate is the worst.

-Excuse you -raised an eyebrow Miguel, walking to the fridge for a drink. He might as well watch the game.

-If I have to listen to you practicing your singing before showering one more time...

-If I can deal with you cursing at your phone at five am, you can deal with my melodious voice -Miguel blinked- That’s not poker.

-We are playing Truco.

-What?

-It’s a popular game in Argentina, or so Tim said. He taught us when he was having a coffee break this morning. And by the way: Truco, bitches!

-I’m in! -Slobo yelled back.

Greta looked at her cards impassively, then at the ones laying on the table between the three of them, before raising an eyebrow- I call Re Truco.

Miguel watched them go for a while. He wasn’t sure on the rules, but from the way they kept yelling, he knew it was highly competitive. It also seemed to involve a great amount of deceit, bullshiting and being as poker faced as possible. It made sense that Tim had been the one introducing them to the game. Speaking of…

-Maybe if I knock on the door with a coffee offering, he’ll listen to me without punching my nose in? -he mumbled to himself, aware that the others were ignoring him. Decided to test his luck, he climbed to his feet and readied the coffee maker.

The rest of the afternoon saw Miguel sitting on Tim’s bed, watching from the sidelines how both he and Bart built… something. It had a chainsaw and a mini shield, so maybe a fighting bot? There were some (not very legal) competitions around campus...

It was almost dinner time when he remembered a tiny, small detail.

-Man, I’m so hungry. You guys think dinner is ready? -asked Bart, hand sweeping the sweat off his forehead- Who was in charge of it tonight?

Lightning-like realization hit Miguel.

-Oh, yeah, speaking of that… Kon was probably dead, last time I checked. Maybe we should order a pizza or something?

-Cool, I could do pizza.

-I’m sorry, Kon was what?!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-You guys need jobs -told them Tim one morning over breakfast. They had just moved in together, and classes were about to start. Nobody seemed willing to talk about responsibility yet, but he felt like they needed the push to do it.

-I have a job -proudly smiled Bart, eyes never leaving the TV where his character was beating Kon’s into a bloody plump. He didn’t elaborate past that, and Tim made a mental note to investigate further later. Bart’s career was enough, they needn't add another unsolved mystery.

-Where is this coming from, though? We have loads of time for that -scoffed Slobo, watching the game intently.

-Classes are starting soon, and people will be getting all the good jobs. I did some calculations, and the money you guys have been saving for living expenses will run out in two, three months tops. Greta has the coffee shop thing and Cassie just got called back from the movie theatre, but the rest of you need to find some money maker. Stat.

-And what about you? -threw Cissie back, internally agreeing with him but despising the reality check.

Tim looked at her, completely deadpan. Silently, he took out his wallet, fishing three cards (one silver, one golden and one black) from it and showing them to her.

-Even before being adopted by a billionaire, I already was a rich trust fund baby. And now that I’ve said it, I’m gonna avoid getting punched by making my exit. Good luck job hunting.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cassie and Anita’s room was ground floor, along with the kitchen, living room, laundry area, a medium size bathroom with a shower, and a very small one with only the toilet and sink. The second floor housed Bart and Conner’s room, along with Miguel and Slobo’s, and Cissie and Greta’s, plus the biggest bathroom, with both a tub and shower. The attic had been claimed by Tim, who won that right by paying the deposit for the house on top of his part of the rent. It was the biggest room, the size of the entire house without partitions, with only one separation in the form of the small sized bathroom. He loved his room, would pay twice what he coughed up to have it. It was worth it, every cent.

He loved his attic; The bathroom, however, was another thing. It ran out of warm water constantly.

-This is the second time this month. I love you, but you aren’t burrowing our bath -denied Cissie firmly, arms crossed as she waited outside the door for Greta to finish her shower-. If it was any other day I’d say yes, you know I would, but you aren’t the only one that needs to get ready for the movie, and there’s six of us sharing here. Go ask the girls.

Defeated but understanding, he went another floor down, arms full with his skin and hair care products (he had a image to keep, and one never knew when paparazzi would be around; he and his brothers had a steady competition on who got caught in camera being a ugly mess the least, that he wasn’t willing to lose) and clean clothes.

Anita shrugged when she opened the door, still naked except from her towel and hair dripping.

-Yeah, Cassie already took hers. Just remember to lock the door, dude. Since its ground floor bathroom, someone always tries to get in to pee when you’re showering, it’s annoying. Also, don’t come at me with complains about hair in the drain, okay?

Thankful beyond caring, he nodded and hurried towards it.

He wasn’t expecting what he found there. Already halfway to the shower, he stopped to leave his folded clothes on top of the cabinet near the sink when he saw...

-Why are there weapons here? -he couldn't help but scream, clutching a towel to his naked chest. He felt distinctly like a victorian lady preserving her virtue from a foe. It was a very curious feeling.

-I said no judgements!! -Anita yelled back from across the hallway.

-Yeah, regarding hair on the floor! Nobody said anything about weapons!

-So I forgot my katana there after my shower, big deal. Just don’t fall on it, problem solved.

-No, I’m used to seeing your katana, but why the fuck do you girls have cat shaped brass knuckles?

-They are cute and useful! Aren’t you taking a shower, dude? The movie starts soon!

Deciding that this wasn't a battle worth picking, he turned on the warm water. Ahh, nice, wonderful hot water.

-Oh, Tim! -came Cassie’s yell- Don’t lock the door, forget what Anita said! I need to put on my make up and that mirror is better than the one in our room.

-I’m gonna be showering though.

-And?

Yeah, she had a point. Shrugging, he made sure the door was unlocked before stepping under the water and closing the curtain.

He heard her coming in and rummaging through one of the little bags he saw on the sink cabinet. He couldn't help but ask.

-Why do you guys keep weapons here?

-They are for when we are most vulnerable.

-With thighs like yours you’re never vulnerable.

-I love you. But just pretend I have noodle legs, for argument’s sake.

-Mkay.

-Well, name one instance when you’re more weak and exposed than when you’re taking a shower.

-...Yeah, I follow. Still seems a bit excessive, but I do like that pointy needle thing you have by the blow dryer. I need to get my sister one of those, cute and deadly like her.

-That? Oh, honey, no, that’s a hair pin.

-If you put your hair in a bun and use that as an ornament, you’d never be unarmed, that’s all I’m saying. Again, cute and deadly.

-...You’ve opened my eyes.

-You’re welcome. May I borrow your eyeliner?

-Sure, but why? You don’t usually use makeup.

-If I make myself long enough wings, maybe I’ll be able to fly away from my problems. Or look fabulous enough to not care about them.

-In moments like this I’m reminded of my undying love for you. Do my eyes too.

-Gotcha.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He came home five minutes after receiving the text, chest heaving from the run and heart beating furiously for a entirely different reason.

Cassie, phone at hand, was waiting by the door. Her eyes were solemn.

-What happened? -he asked, not bothering with niceties as he stepped in and closed the door behind him.

-Family dinner went wrong -she shrugged-, not that he told me. Bart was playing games when he walked in and he texted Jason, who told him, and then he came to me.

Fuck them, Kon thought uncharitably. The Waynes were both an awesome family, and boarding on toxic. Guessing which kind were they going to be any given week was like playing lottery. It was such a Murphy law thing that they went for shitty this particular weekend, where Tim could have used their love and support the most.

-How is Jason? -he asked, not that he cared too much, but because he knew Tim would want to know sooner or later.

-Bart didn’t say, but he did mention he was hanging out with Kori and Roy, and Artemis said in the family group chat to not bother her tonight, so I’m assuming she’s there too.

-Biz is still at the farm, but three is better than nothing -he sighed, taking off his coat and walking towards the stairs- Bart?

-He just convinced Tim to take a bath in the big tub, so he’s probably standing guard by the door.

A nod, Kon’s steps hurried with purpose now that he had a clear destination in mind.

-The others?

Cassie waved vaguely towards the arch on the wall leading to the living room. Kon could see someone moving there from the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn to check; he wouldn't be derailed from his path.

-Greta went to the attic to clean Tim’s room a bit. You know he doesn't have the strength to do it himself right now, but seeing it like that also makes him feel worse. Cissie and Anita are readying the living room for a movie night, picking up all the pillows and blankets in the house. A pillow fort might be in the making.

They were on the second floor now. Kon could see Bart ahead, back resting against the wall, just by the side of the door.

-Slobo ran to Tim’s favorite pizza place -Cassie kept going, keeping pace with him- and should be back soon; Miguel went to the store to buy comfort food, sweets and stuff. Ice cream too, probably.

Conner nodded again, glad to see everyone was following their protocol for these kind of situations. All their housemates accounted for, he stopped in front of Bart and patted his shoulder comfortingly. He was very empathetic, tended to pick up on everyone’s moods, specially Tim’s, and let himself be influenced by them. The shadows on his eyes were probably a mirror image of how their friend currently taking a bath was doing. Not so hot, apparently.

-I’ll take it from here, you guys go put on your pajamas and help the girls get everything ready -he suggested, eyes going to Cassie’s. She nodded, understanding that her mission now was to calm Bart down. Helping Anita and Cissie would do wonders for him.

On most situations, the group tended to follow Tim’s lead, their indisputable commander in chief; when he couldn’t be there, or was too emotionally compromised, Cassie would take over. However, in this particular scenario, everyone deferred to him for some reason. Maybe because he’s been with Tim for the longest time, maybe because he knew him best. It didn’t matter; all he cared about was that it made his work easier, and they seemed glad to have a task they could focus on, rather than dwelling in concern.

Softly, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

-Tim? I’m coming in, dude -he informed him, voice low as to not spook him if he was dissociating. The last they needed was him slipping in the shower.

When no answer came, he entered the steamy bathroom, door closing behind him. As Cassie had predicted, Tim was sitting in the almost full tub, knees hugged to his chest and chin resting above them. His eyes went to Conner when he approached him though, which was a good enough sign to make him visibly sigh in relief.

Tim’s eyes narrowed, as if he wanted to snap at him that he didn’t need them to take care of him, but then he just deflated and looked ahead again, not nearly strong enough to fight.

Knot growing on his chest, Kon sat by the tub’s edge- Hey there. You’re not looking very cool right now. Have I ever told you I despise like 66% of your family?

-Three out of six is not 66%.

-Three? I only like Alfred and Cass.

-You don’t dislike Jason.

-I mean, it varies from moment to moment. But I’ll give you that since you’re feeling bad, and concede on 50%.

Tim snorted a little, and his eyes didn’t look as dead as they had when Kon first came in, so he gave himself infinite Best Friend points.

-Want to talk about it? -he asked gently, hand on Tim’s wet shoulder. He felt more like saw him shrug.

-Nothing to tell, really… It was more of the same shit. I love them, but sometimes they…

-Don’t make it easy, huh?

-...yeah. I don’t even know why I’m so fucked up over it, I’m used to this.

Kon squeezed his shoulder- Your psychiatrist warned you, this week was gonna be tough even without the family drama. Your body is adjusting to the new medication, and it…

-Yeah, yeah, I know -he sighs, sinking deeper into the water- I just… I just hate this. That my brain works like that, that I worry you all, that I can’t just fucking deal with it alone. You know what Jack used to say about mental illness…

-A stupid bastard’s words shouldn't be taken seriously. And you know we don’t like the J word in this house, it’s one of the rules.

Tim’s smile, small and tentative, was a thing of beauty. It never failed to remind Kon why he put so much effort into making the situation better for his friend, when he saw that it actually did help.

-You guys can’t just erase my father from my memory by sheer force of will and avoidance of the topic.

-Sure we can -he gave his shoulder a light pat-. The boys will be here soon with food, and I heard a movie night is in order. You done with your bath? We could stay here longer if you want to, though.

Tim’s smile grew a little bit, cheeks warming, delighted despite himself at the love and care that was being bestowed upon him. Some time ago, he might have fought them over it; the progress was hard earned, but Kon wouldn't change a single thing about it.

-Yeah, I just have to put conditioner on and comb my hair -he hesitated a bit, glancing down at his arms hugging his legs and probably weighing their strength-. Could you, uh… do it for me?

Kon had already been reaching for the bottle even before he asked.

There was little he could do to help Tim, medical wise. But there were professionals for that, and after many late night talks and specially bad episodes, Tim had gotten better at seeking their help when needed.

What he could do was no less important, though; making sure their home was a safe, supportive, non-toxic place for him to come back to.

That’s what best friends-- what family was there for.

63 notes · View notes

niqhtlord01 · 5 years

Text

Humans are weird: We fight way too much

“Are you going to ask him or chicken out again?” Manti sighed.“Will you shut up already. I’m asking him about it at lunch today.” Her friends giggled and said they’d join her. She wasn’t entirely sure why they would be joining her but she imagined they were tagging along just to get fresh gossip about their new human crew mate. Manti’s people, a humanoid alien species much like Humanity with the exception of ocean blue skin and pitch black eyes, had agreed on a cultural exchange program and had exchange volunteers so they could better understand one another. The human that was now on board Manti’s ship was named Jacob Flint, a friendly soft spoken person who had quickly become a close friend. Despite seeing him first hand her friends warned her to stay away from the human, saying things like they were all murderous bloodthirsty killers. She found that description somewhat hard to believe after seeing Jacob spend some twenty minutes attempting to kill a fly that had been flying around his cabin all the while swearing at the top of his lungs and knocking over his belongings in his frantic attempt to squish the buzzing fiend. That changed however when they shared with her some reading material they had gathered from the information web. They were documents recording horrific events of humans known as the “French Revolution” and “World War I”. She read the provided material and was shocked at the sheer brutality. Heads mounted on pikes, people murdered with poisonous gasses, millions dying all for what Manti saw as pointless reasons. Manti’s people abhorred violence and in their entire history as a species had never gone to war with members of her own species. After knowing Jacob for so long, with his warm smile and caring nature, she couldn’t believe that these were real and had worked up the courage to ask him about them. Surely they were fake events made by her friends to scare her away from Jacob. --------------------------

She found Jacob in the mess hall sitting at a table alone reading from a data pad between fork filled bites of his food. Her friends were already there and upon seeing her went over to join her. “Go on then.” “We believe in you!” They said, giggling. Manti sighed again and together all three of them went to Jacob’s table. As they approached Jacob looked up and saw Manti and waved to her. “Hell- *cough*” Jacob tried to speak but choked on the food still in his mouth. He smacked his chest for a few seconds before catching his breath. “Death by potatoes, not how I pictured going out.” Manti smiled, “You should probably know then that those aren’t potatoes.” Jacbo stopped and looked down at his food. “Then what the hell are they?” Manti shrugged, “They can’t be pronounced in your tongue I’m afraid.” Jacob put his fork down and gently shoved his plate to the side as if it had suddenly become toxic. “If I can’t say it right then it has no place in my mouth.” Manti started to laugh but her friend nudged her in the side. “Would you all like to join me then?” Jacob said motioning to the empty seats across from him. “Thanks, we’d be happy to.” The three of them sat down across from him. “There’s actually something we’d like to ask you.” Jacob sighed loudly. “For the last time, no, I do not know Justin Bieber or that guy from Twilight. They’re both very much dead and trying to get something of theirs for you is considered grave robbing on my planet.” Manti was puzzled for a moment. “No, we wanted to ask you about something else.” “Oh thank bloody god. One care package from another human gets shared and suddenly they’re a cultural hit with your people.” Jacob said as he threw his hands up in the air, “They’re not even great at what they do.” One of Manti’s friends slammed her hand down on the table. “Justin Bieber is an icon, don’t you go talking smack about him.” she said with a dead serious stare. Jacob just stuck out his tongue and made a “Phbbbt” sound. Trying to regain control of this runaway conversation, Manti continued with her question. “My friends seem to think your people are blood thirst murders after they read some documents online about events called the “French Revolution” and a “World War I”.” Jacob nodded his head and shifted in his seat. “Clearly these events are false but I wanted you to tell them that so the air could be cl-” “No those events are real Manti.” Jacobs words stopped Manti’s train of thought. “This....this is some of your human humor yes? You’re just “messing” with us, right?” Manti asked, a sudden tingling sensation running down her spine. Jacob shook his head. “No, those events are real and did happen.” “I...” Manti couldn’t find the words to describe how shocked she was, but her friends didn’t seem to suffer such a setback. “So it’s true your people had a world war?” “Oh yeah. In fact, we like it so much that in roughly 21 years after the first one ended we had and even bigger second one which we called “World War II”.” Jacob was being slightly sarcastic with the statement but that was lost on the group of women. “Some would argue that we had a third world war as well, but since there weren’t any big battles on the scale of the previous two it got changed to the “Cold War”.” “So your people fought the weather this time?” Manti’s friend asked mockingly. Jacob cocked his head to the side and smirked. “Nah, it was more spy warfare. So instead of giant battles on beaches and in cities you had people being strangled with piano wire in their homes or being fed cyanide capsules in their food.” The mocking expression on Manti’s friend vanished replaced with one of utter disgust. “And...and these were the only conflicts your people had?” Manti’s question a vain last hope to maintain the image she had painted of humanity with her friend Jacob as the starting point. To her surprise Jacob laughed. “Hell no. We’ve had countless wars beside the ones mentioned.” Before Manti could respond Jacob brought up his data pad and ran a quick search. “Let’s see here. The Football War, the 6 Day War, the War of Spanish Succession, the 100 Years War, the American Revolution, the Chinese Civil War, the Punic Wars,” Jacob continued reading off wars fought between humans while Manti looked on in horror, “the Russian Civil War, the Mongolian conquests, the Crusades, The Nika Riots, The War of the Stray Dog, the Trojan War, War of the Three Kingdoms, the Opium Wars, the-” “Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Manti cried out. The surrounding people all looked at from her sudden outburst for a moment before returning to their previous task. One of her friends tried to place a hand on her shoulder but Manti shrugged it off at once. “It’s all true, isn’t it?” Manti’s voice soft as she directed the question at Jacob, “You really are all murders...” “Well,” Jacob began saying, “we’re not totally terrible people.” “Did you not just hear yourself as you listed off all those wars your people have had!?!?” Manti’s voice now slightly angered thinking Jacob was truly ignorant to his peoples horrific deeds. “And at times for such stupid reasons! A war fought over a stray dog??!!” Jacob calmly looked at his data pad. “A Greek soldier was shot and killed by Bulgarian soldier after crossing the border between the countries while chasing after their dog. So probably more about a soldier being murdered then about the dog itself.” Manti was shocked and outraged with how easily Jacob could state the reason. “And the Football War?!?” He looked down at his pad again. “The football game was the tipping point for years of tension that had been building between two nations. One being heavily overpopulated and its people illegally immigrating over the border into the neighboring country that would then sometimes violently deport them back.” “The 100 Year War?!?” “A series of battles fought over a century to determine the rightful ruler of two nations.” “The Nika Riots!?!?” Jacob paused to read again and laughed slightly. “Well, this one is kinda stupid but it started after the Emperor Justinian refused to let two sports team members free because they were sentenced to death so the team’s fans banded together and started a massive riot while fighting the royal guard and attempting to crown a new Empe-” “ENOUGH!” Manti slammed her hands down to silence Jacob. “Your people will find any reason or excuse to fight with each other for the sake of your blood lust then afterwards had the audacity to laugh at the reasons you made up as foolish in the first place!” Manti’s hands were trembling, tears welling up in her eyes as she realized her friend wasn’t whom she thought he was. “Humans are all monsters...murdering monsters....” For a long time the room went silent, not only at the table but with everyone around them as they had begun listening in on the conversation themselves. Many thought Jacob would have some outburst and attempt to attack Manti for her accusations and readied themselves to step in and stop the barbaric human. Jacob said nothing as he gently put down his data pad and pulled his plate of food back over again. He took the fork and played with the seemingly potatoes, shoving it from one side of his plate to the other as if waiting for it to suddenly attack him. “Yes.” He began, his voice calm and collected. “My people do tend to fight a lot.” He continued playing with his food. “We have countless years spilling each others blood on our planet that some say that our Africa’s soil is red because of how much blood has been soaked into the soil.” His fork scooping up a bit and bringing it to eye level for a moment before going into his mouth. “But,” he spoke while chewing, “sometimes fighting is all we can do to move forward as a species.” Manti looked up at him. “That is a lie. Violence is not an answer, just look at my people! We have lived just as long as you and have never had reason for conflict.” “And there in lies your problem.” Jacob said while swallowing and pointing his fork at Manti. “Your people have lived on a single continent that has always been abundant with resources for easily a thousand times your current population.” He spun his data pad around to Manti to take a look at. “My people were spread out and divided with vastly different situations.Who are you to compare the two of us and still judge me?” Manti looked at the data pad and saw the planet Earth. It’s landscapes alien to her and wildly different from what she had grown up surrounded by on her planet. She shook her head. “You could have come together.” She stated. “You could have banded together and resolved your differences.” Jacob nodded. “But what if some people didn’t want to resolve their differences?” The very idea was as alien to Manti as Jacob was. He tapped the data pad. “The French Revolution you brought up, was the result of an ever increasing gap between the poorest and the richest in the nation of France. The poor were struggling for decades to make ends meet despite wars, famines, and ever increasing taxes; while the rich lived it up without a care in the world. Every time the poor and rich would come together to try and resolve the crisis poor found that the rich didn’t want anything changed because it would threaten their way of life, even though the rich were maybe 300,000 in population and the poor were some 27 million.” He opened a file for her showing depictions of the poor french tending to dead fields while the rich lived in luxurious manors. “Realizing that change would never happen peacefully, the poor rose up and revolted across the entire nation in the hope that through their actions their lives would be bettered.” “And the heads on pikes?” She retorted. “How did that make their lives better?” Jacob became solemn for a moment, his carefree expression gone. “Picture for me that your holding your starving child, their tiny bodies nothing but skin and bone as you’d been unable to buy or find any food. Imagine looking at them as they gazed up at you with pleading eyes, begging eyes, eyes that tell you that they don’t want to die, that they want to live and spend a life together with you. Then imagine those eyes suddenly glazing over and the warmth fading from their tiny frail bodies as they leave their mortal coil; and as you lay their cradling your dead child, picture that just down the road is your landlord so fat and plump from the feasts he’s held every night because he doesn’t have to pay taxes like you do and can buy all the food they need and them some.” The picture was too vivid for Manti and even more so for her friends who began wrapping their arms around themselves, eyes on the verge of crying. She looked up at Jacob who was staring at her directly. “Would you not want to carve up that landlord and all his ilk for murdering your precious child?” His gaze shifted around the room at the onlookers. “Wouldn’t any of you want to see them dead?” he asked a bit louder. The listeners all shifted their eyes away, unable to meet his gaze. He reached out for the data pad and Manti slowly returned it to him. “I’m not saying the wars my people have fought are sensible, nor am I saying that all of them began for legitimate reasons. Some were fought on the beliefs of madmen and monsters. War is not a subject that can always be labeled with black and white, good and evil. Everyone believes they are the good guys, everyone believes their cause is just.” He began to rise and walk over to Manti. “What I take away from it all is that when humans are backed up against a wall and their only course left for them is to put their life on the line they will run head first into the fires of war to protect what matters most. A nation, a flag, a plot of land, a loved one, a religion, a belief, and even at times a friend.” She looked up at him and saw his smile back on his face. He gently placed his hand on her head and ruffled her hair the way he knew she liked causing her to let out a soft giggle. “So, you would go to war over me then?” she asked without even realizing it before blushing in embarrassment. He laughed and ruffled her hair some more. “Manti, if someone hurt you what I would do to them would have me hauled off to court for war crimes.” She felt the sentiment was sweet, but after what she had read she didn’t know how to respond so just smiled instead. “Now if you ladies will excuse me, I need to have a word with your cook and see if I can get some real potatoes.” He waved goodbye and left the cafeteria, the on lookers parting as he past by. Manti watched him leave before turning back to her friends. “So did you get enough gossip then?” They just looked at each other and smiled. “Oh yeah, plenty of juicy bits.” The other nodded. “It started off way darker than I thought it would go, but near the end it almost got touching and honestly I think that was Jacob’s attempt of hitting on you.” Manti looked on in surprise. “What?!?! How did you two get that????” Both of them just nodded. “He said he’d go to war over you.” “Sounds pretty up there for human romance if you ask me.” “So wait, was this actually about warning me about human war making, or were you just trying to hook us up together?” Both smiled and stood to leave. “Little of both honestly.” “Wheels within wheels Manti. Wheels within wheels...”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #stories

388 notes · View notes

flych1 · 4 years

Text

Kehlani singer on her new album

Kehlani, singer on her new album

Photo: Pari Dukovic

Kehlani

In early March, Kehlani was due to meet his label. She was preparing to release her second album - her first since she had a baby and a return to her roots R-B. She was scheduled to perform the first part of Justin Bieber's Changes tour, as well as a number of dream solo dates. Atlantic executives told him they believed in the album, which was scheduled for release on April 24, its 25th anniversary, but the coronavirus pandemic made it impossible to develop a promotion plan. We'd have to postpone it. "I was casting actors and actresses. I was doing all kinds of things," she says of all the pre-production she had completed at the time of the mid-March meeting. We're talking about a video call from Zoom; Kehlani sits alone in a sunny room in his Los Angeles home. (Later, she will be joined by her dog, a pint of ice cream and a tequila-based drink with a slice of orange coming out). It just so happens that today is the original release date. They said, "We don't think you should take it out,"" she said. "And then I went to my room and made the 'Toxic' video on my laptop." She posted it on YouTube at the end of March. "People messed with it," she adds. When Kehlani's label accepted her request to release the album this month, it was stipulated that she had to do it all herself. "If all we do is make music and press the button, then you can do it," she says. "And I was like, 'Okay, challenge accepted fucking.'" So now Kehlani and her photographer, with whom she's in quarantine, are planning and editing music videos, photoshoots, and album coverage. (She also lives with her daughter, two younger siblings, a close friend and her assistant). His garage has been converted into a two-level studio, one side for music, the other for visuals. Kehlani has been a professional musician since the age of 13. A series of mixtapes - full of overshares about having a heart built and broken - and a random but successful debut album have already made her a leading figure in the industry. His music is R-B in its purest form: songs about how love defeats you, about floating on the pure adrenaline of a crush, about the desire of someone you can't trust in your heart. It's no coincidence that when white artists like Bieber and Charlie Puth want to look into an R-B sound, they call on Kehlani to help them. The new album, It Was Good Until It Wasn't, is part of a revival of the genre in the midst of its fiercest debates. It is also a transition disc, a bridge between adolescence and adulthood. Throughout her career, Kehlani has been considered the daughter of the R-B: sexy but boyish. In her old music, she played with both sides of the binary. On the new record, it got too big. She did so immediately after giving birth to her daughter Adeya, who is now one year old. (She is currently co-parenting with her ex, Adeya's father, Javaughn Young-White, younger brother of Jaboukie from the Daily Show). "People would always be like, Kehlani is adorable or, like, Kehlani is cool hella. But then I had a baby and it made me look more feminine," she says. "So I guess I thought, OK, I'm going to start shaking my ass and talk about it." (She wanted Bieber to do a song for her album, but he refused. "Because he's a super-married guy now, it didn't really fit," she said. Kehlani's self-managed music video for "Toxic", filmed with the only camera on her MacBook, shows the nervous figure of the singer slipping and squirming, rubbing her arms and hips. "Don Julio has ridiculed me for you," she tells her former lover that she won't reach out to him, even if her body urges her to do it out of instinct. Kehlani insists this is not his last relationship, which ended publicly and painfully, with Compton rapper YG earlier this year. It's the kind of personal drama that made headlines and made Kehlani's blog famous. She writes songs that address all of this openly. Her fans grow up with her career because she is transparent, sometimes to excess. Or, as she says, I do in public, and it makes people feel like I'm not a stranger. I'm a person with a human ass. I'm screwing up in front of the whole world." The conversation about the state of the R-B was revived last November, when Lizzo, often considered a pop artist, won album of the year at the Soul Train Awards, beating soul singer Ari Lennox. ("It's clear that I'm not cool enough," Lennox tweeted after his loss. Last February, rapper Young M.A. went further, saying that "we barely have R-B". Indeed, in recent years, the superstars of the genre - like SWV, Boyz II Men, Ginuwine, Toni Braxton - and their musical descendants have mostly failed to stop the charts as they did two decades ago; many contemporary black musicians evade the label, preferring to be called "alternative R-B", while others experiment more with genres that were once declared out of bounds by the guardians. Kehlani, on the other hand, is part of a coterie of artists who maintain the relevant R-B today, alongside newcomers like Summer Walker, Bryson Tiller and Lennox. She has a song for every step of a relationship: going under it, going over it, watching the door ahead, a personal promise to stop texting her. His music seems new - not as a consistent copy of a Brandy song - but the influence is palpable. She finds the current debate about gender - what the R-B is, what it was and where it has gone - boring. It may no longer sound like it did in the 90s, but rappers (think, more recently, Drake) have expanded it beyond the desperate desire (or desperate loves) of the last century. "I think people don't know enough about music to make these kinds of accusations [that the R-B no longer exists]. The R-B is simple lyrics and a great song. Lots of harmonies and batteries and melodic production," she says, as if it were easy. "I'll never be able to make 90s R-B music. I'm never going to be able to make R-B music from the early 2000s, because that's not when I was making music. It wasn't when I experienced things that shaped my words and my sound." Kehlani was born in Oakland and raised by her aunt. His mother struggled with drug addiction, and his father died when he was 24 years old and she was very young. A stint on America's Got Talent put her in touch with Nick Cannon, who paid for her to spend time in the studio to make her first mixtape in 2014. On Cloud 19, you can hear the beginnings of a great talent: his voice is more acute and younger, but it is overflowing with emotion. On the deck of Cloud 19's "As I Am" film, she sings and succeeds in the chorus of a Mary J. Blige classic. A week after the release of her second mixtape in 2015, she signed with Atlantic Records. Kehlani turned to pop with his debut album of 2017, SweetSexySavage, an album full of rushed and half-finished ideas. It was carried out amid a personal mental health crisis, sparked by rumors that she cheated on her ex-boyfriend, NBA player Kyrie Irving, in 2016. The relentless online bullying led her to attempt suicide. (Kyrie Irving later admitted that she had never been unfaithful.) "I started an album as a person and experienced the most traumatic event of my life," she says. Her label held on until the deadline, letting her make an album from songs she barely recognized. "I had no connection with the music," she says. "I was embarrassed about everything." The new record is a reset, closer to the Grammy-nominated mixtapes that made it famous. It Was Good Until It Wasn't Gives you the Pure B-R rush, the R-B "waiting for you to call me", the R-B "the only thing that interests me is you": the hits of Brandy and Monica in the 90s, the classics of Alicia Keys of the early 2000s who fall in love. She is also less affected by the nostalgia of adolescence than by the immediacy of adult desires. His first mixtapes were about childhood and adolescence; It Was Good Until It Wasn't at peace with the way most conflicts or heartaches unfold. The title comes from a conversation with a friend about her recent breakup. That's the life of this, you know? she said. The is good and then it's not good anymore. Although she has been in the industry since she was a teenager, Kehlani has never had any decisive success for her career, and it is unlikely that the new album will deliver one. "F-MU" is hot and dancing, and the collaboration with Canadian R-B star Tory Lanez, "Can I," is a sexy earworm - although neither song seems particularly suited to virality. His greatest successes are gossip blogs that overshadow his music. His three-month relationship with YG ended just after they released a song together proclaiming their love. (Their duet came out on the eve of Valentine's Day 2020; three days later, she released a breakup song after images of him cheating her surfaced). Minutes before one of our calls, Kehlani posted a series of tweets about a feud with another Oakland native, rapper Kamaiyah, who slammed her on Instagram Live about a previously unreleased mixtape and accused her of being a colorist, among other things. "She gave the green light to my family and me and told everyone in Oakland to kill us for a song," Kehlani says. (Kamaiyah later replied, telling Kehlani, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't threaten you," but added that "a green light means going like a fight, not shooting"). A moment after our discussion, she answered a phone call from a friend and nervously asked if her tweets - which had let the rapper know there was no bad blood - were correct, if she had handled the situation properly. Kehlani and Kamaiyah had long argued over a joint mixtape, which was to be released before the release of their two albums. Her production was difficult, and even the basic decisions - how many songs she should have, what it should be called, what the visual aesthetic should be - met, according to Kehlani, with Kamaiyah's resistance. In the end, she had had enough of back and forth, and the mixtape didn't seem as essential to her as the release of her album. When she came back to our call, her mood was appalled. I tried to contact her to do good business and she said, "If the project doesn't come out, you can't have it [one piece]," she says. "Even though I wrote it." Once again, she was swept away in a drama she couldn't control, tweeting clarifications about a quarrel she didn't care about, instead of celebrating the upcoming release of her album. But why challenge a misinterpretation if she is tired of getting carried away by the drama? How can I put this to rest and out of my body? Because I don't want to wear them," Kehlani says. "Even if you never want to piss me off again, how can I make sure you know it's love on this side?" she tweeted Kamaiyah to let the rapper know she wished him the best. She is satisfied with the way she has defused an unexpected quarrel. A few years ago, it would not have been as weighted. It took a lot of to get to this point, she says. The death of two friends in three months has put a lot of things in perspective. Philadelphia rapper Chynna overdosed in April at age 25; Minnesota rapper Lexii Alijai, whom Kehlani considered "a little sister," overdosed on New Year's Day at just 21 years of age. Lexii Alijai was scheduled to perform the first part of the post-Bieber tour as the headliner. "I couldn't believe it because Alijai was so young," she says. "It was a click, it was amazing, it was sad and it was heartbreaking. I'm always trying to find the best way to help them continue their legacy." Being 25 was also more than a quarter of a life. It was a horizon she never thought she would see. "I've always had a strange feeling about being 25 or older," she says. "It's a shock because I'm now older than my father was." that's part of what made It Was Good Until It Wasn't feel like the album she finally grew up on. "I wanted to be 25 on this one," she says.

Instagram

from flych https://ift.tt/3fOJi2U via https://ift.tt/2SkgjJX

#tumblrgrunge tumblrpost tumblroutfit tumblrgril tumblrr tumblrposts tumblrfeed tumblrfoto t

0 notes

grcy-blog1 · 5 years

Text

⌈ kim taehyung, cismale, he/him ⌋ hey, is it GRAY SIWOO that you’re looking for? you know, the TWENTY-ONE year old STUDENT. typically i see them hanging around ROAST CAFE so you could try there! i hear they’ve been in living in SAUGATUCK RESIDENTIAL for HIS WHOLE LIFE. gristol wouldn’t the same without them, right? anyway, whenever i see them they make me think of ripped jeans, colorful retro sunglasses, painted nails.

some quick info:

full name: gray siwoo

age: 21

date of birth: june 10

gender: cis male

pronouns: he/him

orientation: bisexual

occupation: student

allergies: peanut

zodiac sign: gemini

ok so gray was born and raised in gristol by his parents. his mom moved very young from korea to study abroad ( law more specifically ) and decided to stay when she met his father ( politics major ) and the two of them fell quickly and deeply at a very young age. however her family didn’t agree to it so she decided to cut them off even though she was very attached to them, so gray doesn’t know his family on his mother’s side at all. never spoke to them, don’t know what they look like, anything.

she didn’t come from a wealthy family but his father did! once gray’s grandfather passed away his father being the only son took over their real estate brokerage business, making their lives way too easy. despite having her degree, his mom decide to dedicate herself to her family only and her kids, spoiling him rotten and giving literally everything he wants. gray could pretty much get away with everything if he pouts, which has helped him into his selfish and manipulative behaviors where he needs to get what he wants one way or another.

however, in order to shape him into a decent human he could get anything he wantedin his parents terms. he wasn’t handed everything, his dad was very rigid about that. instead he had to work for it. do chores around the house, get good grades, that kinda thing. that really shaped him into a working man dhsuidfh ( even though most of the time his mom would let him off said chores )

TW DEATH

his mom was the sweet one in the house, but when gray was around 12 his mom fell sick and they discovered that she had leukemia and gray watched as his mom was no longer her best-self and never left her side to her last breath. his father was never a very loving type of father and often times he wanted to protect gray from seeing his mom that way but even at 12 years old gray was very mature and refused to let his father take away his time with his mom. the day she passed away was the day gray disconnected from his father completely, he blames him for her death and refuses to believe that now they can have a relationship when he spent so much time busy with work and away from them. gray still suffers a lot with her death but he never lets it show, not wanting to be vulnerable around others and doesn’t really want to worry his sister more than he already does.

he tries to not let the sadness and all the negative feelings take over him, figuring that his mom would want him to be kind and respectful to others like she was. he misses her dearly, she was his everything.

END OF TW

his dad has been the MAYOR of gristol for a couple years now, still a couple to go and will probably run again. gray thinks it’s hilarious that he can’t even take care of their house, how could he handle a whole town? but doesn’t say anything, in fact he takes advantage of his dad’s title to do whatever TF HE WANTS

his dad is also lowkey a homophobic and is that type who sees two guys kissing and public and cringes and comments about how its an indecency but wont do the same for the straight couples lol so gray prefers to hide that he kisses boys too from him but for everyone else he is out n proud ok

at school gray was always kind of popular, he had his group of friends of course but he was naturally very social. he liked to talk and make people laugh and that continues through this day. he’s very sarcastic too which can be funny and because he’s a gemini he has those mood swings so pls be patient, sometimes he’ll be funny and cheerful and sometimes he’ll lock himself in his room for days without explanation

he was always very into music and was classic trained since he was a kid. that was very important to his parents. he can play piano, guitar, he can sing but he doesn’t think he can so he avoids the whole thing, loves playing though, especially the piano. catch him randomly playing just because at 6 am to wake up everyone because he’s THAT annoying lmao

his father demands a lot out of both him and expects him to be the perfect son and beCAUSE of that he goes against everything his dad wants. he wanted gray to attend politics school as well so he could be like him but gray decided to take arts instead, which he loves btw - he’s very artsy and loves to paint, draw, do some digital art and all that

he’s not a very big spender thankfully ( except w clothes tho ) , he likes to save his money even though thats never really lacked in his family. he has plans of eventually leaving his father’s house and moving somewhere else away from him, the only reason why he hasn’t yet is hana. he can’t leave her. he’s simple, but likes to dress well and is obsessed with technology, he always has to have the newest phones, notebooks, watches, video games etc

very addicted to his phone and social media, instagram specially, in fact he likes to posts his art content and everything he does in there, updates his story all the goddamn time, i’d say he has a big following bc homeboy has a pretty face

a little bit of a hoe not going to lie, he’s very flirty and loves seeing his charm work on people, he tends to not let it go very far unless he feels very attracted to the person, he’s not the type to go fuck randoms and all that, he needs to have some type of connection before he gets intimate with someone

he can be a little hesitant to get close to people because he has major trust issues but once u get him talking there’s really no way to stop him, loves to roast and tease people just to be cute, he likes attention

a gentleman, he’s the real boyfriend material. he will open the door for you, carry your bags, carry yOU if you say you’re tired, go out of his way to make sure you’re comfortable, he’s your servant feel free to abuse it

however there are times where he snaps out of nowhere or just wants to be alone and is mean all suddenly but after will act like nothing has happened lmao

EXTREMELY affectionate, likes to touch hold hands hug kiss, he likes it when people play with his hair but all of that only applies to people he’s comfortable with, if you don’t know him well don’t touch him

[ anxiety tw ] he suffers w anxiety a lot due to his mom and stress and fighting w his father, sometimes he disappears and that’s when he’s having a crisis. he has panic attacks when its at its peak and he works out a lot and does yoga and all that as well as taking medication to keep it all at balance for his own sake [ end of anxiety tw ]

tries to eat healthy and watches what he eats a lot, he used to be chubby for a bit as a kid and that pushed him to work on himself which also makes him a little insecure about his body and his appearance. it’s still a little hard for him to believe that someone could be attracted to him and it’s also hard for him to just take a compliment without turning it into a joke.

neat freak, likes everything organized and clean and will freak out if you come over and mess up his room or go through his things

has terrible luck with relationships but never says no to love, tbh he’s a hopeless romantic and loves the chase. loves to gossip and he’s a bit shady when he doesn’t like someone ( which is not often this boy has a heart of gold ) fiughduf

omg i tried to keep this short and failed miserably

here’s some possible connections but i’m always up for anything

friends, ex-friends, enemies

someone who pretends to like him but actually talks shit about him behind his back

exes in good terms, exes in bad terms, there can be a few exes fjfgsdfhf

some sort of toxic relationship where they’re playing w each others feelings

flirtationship

someone he has a crush on but the other doesn’t or vice versa

a best friend, give him some bros pls

A CHILDHOOD best friend pls i love those

cousins, neighbors etc

party friends

iDK class mates

family friends

will they won’t they type thing

first kiss, first times etc

ENEMIES, people who just dislike him for any reason

someone who used to be friends w him but for whatever reason they have stopped talking ( perhaps a fight ) and now it’s either awkward as hell or they’re on their way to working things out

hook ups, friends w benefits etc

someone that likes fashion a lot too so they can go shopping together

work out buddy lets go

someone that likes his content on insta and knows him from there iDK

idk i’ll think of more later i swear

hit me up for plots love yall im excitED

#gristolintro #me being messy as always love me anyways pls n thanks

7 notes · View notes

thestylesproject · 6 years

Text

#57 The Downfall

I think I have done a terrible job. But, I wrote after so long, I’m happy.

Concept: Rich Y/N has to shift into a small studio with her sister, bringing a complete change from their high society lifestyle. The owner of the studio right in front of them, Harry isn’t too pleased with this move.

Warnings: Weed, will have smut later.

3.5K+

---

This was the best they could do. The best they could do for me at the moment. Was it a downfall? A shattering one. Maybe shattering doesn’t justify it. I didn’t expect much from our relatives otherwise either.

“Do we have to stay here?” My sister asked, looking at our tiny studio apartment.

“I’m sorry, darling,” I said, pushing our boxes inside. We sold most of our stuff, including my parent's house which the bank took as collateral. If I wanted my sister to continue going to the private school, which would ensure her future, we had to make that sacrifice. We had limited funds, and thankfully my university was paid for and we had our scholarships, but our way of life, our expenses - everything took a huge hit. “I’m sure we can do something amazing with it!” Decorate it like we always wanted to, but Mum never allowed us because of white walls?” I tried to cheer her up.

“I don’t know if I want to go against her now,” She sighed, sitting on the bed.

“Alright! You know what? Why don’t you make me us some pancakes, and I’ll get all the boxes inside, and we can then unpack?” She nodded, always love the idea of cooking. I hope I could send her to the best school one day, but she was only 13, and I had time to worry about that.

I walked out, looking at the dingy corridor filled with my stuff, and a door on the opposite side. Should probably say Hi to my new neighbour - maybe bake some cookies as an exchange? Wouldn’t hurt.

I tried being strong in the entire process. Losing our home, our wealth, our everything took a strong hit, with our personal relationships as well. My boyfriend broke up with me, my friends who I used to hang out with me stopped texting when I shifted homes. They all knew about the loss of income, and my world had always been shallow. I had a list of things to mourn about and absolutely no time at the moment.

Setting up the tiny studio was hard, but we managed to fit our stuff. I was proud of how well my sister was taking it, knowing how difficult it must be for her. “Excited to go to school tomorrow? The bus, I found out, actually comes right down the lane, so it’s not much walking-”

“Why do people care about money so much? How does it matter if we don’t have it more of it, anymore? We have enough to still go to school. I am still me, then why are kids so shallow,” My sister asked, and I felt like she had aged so much in the last month.

“People are always shallow. You know how Mum made fun of all of Dad’s friends? She got it as well! Remember that friends who leave you in your time of need, are not friends, to begin with, and you should always strive for true friendship. Always be kind, and hardworking and keep your head up high. We don’t need anything else!” She hugged me tightly, crying into my chest. I hope things aren’t as hard for her.

If missing three weeks of University was bad, having your group of friends ignore you, while you tried to settle in was worse. Obviously, I didn’t come in my Porsche, obviously, I took the train, and obviously, I went to the student cafe for lunch and not the restaurant like my old routine. Everyone knew what happened, what was there to gossip about?

Max, my ex-boyfriend came and sat beside me during the gap in my schedule. I stayed away, feeling the negativity and toxic air that I didn’t want to interact. “You didn’t say hi,” he said.

“I didn’t know you noticed people who didn’t have the heritage money in the bank,” I closed my book.

“Look-”

“I can’t deal with this, Max. You said enough at Cheryl’s party, and I didn’t realize how pathetic we were. I need to widen my horizon, find my people who don’t make friends with bank accounts.”

“I didn’t say anything!” He argued.

“Oh, so you just laughed with Catherine and Misha. Same thing! And, you broke up with me. Two weeks after my parents- you should go!” I stood up.

“My mother made me do that! You know how important standing is, you were a part of it-”

“I am still a part of it. I still have all my standing, all my recommendations in place because I didn’t buy them as you did. I am better than you, all of you. I didn’t love you for how much you could spend,” Walking away from him, felt good. I didn’t have the time to wallow.

I was still on top of my class. My professors expected write-ups but, I was on schedule to graduate by the end of the year. During lunch, my two friends who I honestly loved the most, and were secretly still there for me, came and sat beside me.

“What are you guys doing here?” I asked.

“This place has amazing Mac ‘n’ cheese if you have to know! And, it’s my cheat day!” Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Oh, stop it!” Meera hit him, hugging me tightly. “We couldn’t tolerate Catherine without your sarcastic remarks! It was intolerable!”

“I’m still mad at you!” Kyle took a bite of his cheat day dish. “I expected you to take your place back, and you didn’t even come and say hi!”

“I texted you though,” I blew him a kiss.

“Anyway,” Meera said, taking my hands, “I never liked that group thing. Let’s not do it again!” I was glad that at least at least I was a person who had made tight, genuine bonds.

The train ride home was long. It took me 20 minutes with my car to reach home, but I didn’t live in the central city anymore. I just had to get used to it. Distract myself, observe things in this 65-minute ride back home. A guy sat down in front of me after the old lady got off at her stop. His head was in his phone, earphones in, with his hoody on, and I had a feeling that he was in my class this afternoon. I didn’t notice him, but he had his back to me when I saw him walk out of class, and I didn’t know him. I tried for a while, wanting to make an eye-contact. Maybe he knew me? People knew me, in general. He got off at the same stop as me, and we walked the same way back home. I didn’t have the guts to say Hi.

I stopped on my way to the grocery store. My sister told me about her day, and how her best friend was still her best friend, and I felt it might be alright for us here. We baked cookies for our neighbour, and I rang on the doorbell. The same guy in the train, from my class today opened the door, and the only way I could be sure was because it was the same hoody and the same body structure. I gave him my big smile, always worked with all the people, “Hi! My sister and I just moved in, and we baked you some cookies and introduce ourselves!”

“You are Y/N Y/L/N. What are you doing here?” He said, shocked.

“You know me! I wanted to say Hi while we were on our way back but, didn’t get the chance to do that!” he frowned, looking a little pissed, and I wondered if I did something wrong. “This is my sister, Sara!” I pulled her forward to ease the tension. He smiled at her, and I could see his dimples and my sister gave him the cookies.

“Thank you, Sara! I’m Harry” He nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.” He said, talking to her and then closed the door on my face before I could speak.

“Did you do something to him?” My sister asked.

“I don’t know him!” I said, turning to our door.

“He doesn’t seem to like you,” she said, laughing.

“I know. I don’t even know why.”

“He is really handsome, though!” She elbowed me.

“I know.”

The mystery grew further when Harry categorically avoided me for the next few weeks. Life wasn’t exactly getting easy with asking my sister to control her expenses, and her crying, and trying to make food every day on top of managing a child, and then keeping in check with her schools demand of a guardian which I was now, and my Uni’s demand of just torture. Plus, I was late today, and our small sofa seat was getting delivered today. The stuff from my our old house had been sent to a storage space which my parents had bought, and we owned a small sofa piece and table set which we could fit in our apartment since we desperately needed a sitting structure.

After fighting with the delivery guy for the unnecessary extra amount he was charging to take it up one floor, I had him leave it downstairs. I was going to do it one at a time when I saw Harry coming in.

“Hey!” I shouted.

He took off his earphones, “Yeah?”

“Could you help me? I need to take these up, and I don’t have any help and I would really appreciate it,” I begged.

He thought about it a bit, and then, nodded. Taking the table up the stairs, he asked, “is this marble?” looking at the countertop.

“Yeah, I think it is,” I said smiling.

“Why are you living in a dump like this if you can buy a marble table?” He said, and I could sense the disdain in his voice.

“It’s actually my parents, from our old house. So, I didn’t have to buy it actually. Just making use of things as much as we can,” I told him.

“I heard, I am sorry.” He said as we went back down to get the sofa chair. “Hold it the other way,” he instructed as we tried to get it up the stairs, but it was really heavy. Finally managing to take it inside my place, we sat down.

“Thank you so much for helping me with this!” I stood up and got him some water.

“I should get going,” he walked towards the door.

“Oh, you know we are making pesto chicken for dinner if you’d like to join us. We found out that I am a good cook.” I smiled.

“That’s alright.” He said walking out.

“Did I do something?” I asked, all of a sudden and then bit my tongue. He frowned. “I mean, you don’t seem to like me, and I don’t know you so, I’m just, umm confused.”

“Am I supposed to like you?” He said, irritated. The fact that he was actually really beautiful, made me want him to like me, and he clearly didn’t.

“Okay, “ I gulped. “Thank you for helping me.” I nodded, hiding behind my door.

Meera did her research on him and found out that my parents had actually placed a case on Harry’s fathers business. They were the sharks in their field so, I wouldn’t have been surprised. They used to be as wealthy as us, so we had a similar downfall. Only with him, the case ended with his father losing his business, and imprisonment for 10 years on stolen copyright. It was a serious deal. His mother remarried three years ago, and Harry has been cut off and living in the studio which was surprisingly all we both could afford. I could get why he didn’t like me, but it wasn’t my fault.

Another thing about Harry was that he had a line of women coming into his flat, and leaving early morning when my sister left for school. “I think this is the 17th one,” she whispered the other day, as I walked with her and we giggled about it. We had caught him in a towel, the day before when my sister knocked on his door for a toolbox, and it would have been a lie if I didn’t drool a little. He had tattoos covering his sculpted stomach, his hand holding his towel on, with his hair wet, falling on his face, clean shaven so, you could see those sharp jawlines before my eyes shamefully met his big green ones, after I had stared and engrained everything else.

“Those girls are very lucky,” I whispered back to my sister, and she giggled some more.

He was really smart as well. Paying extra attention to my studies, I noticed who the class toppers were, and we were at the top. Well, he was. Girls talked a lot about him as well. I guess, he played the I don’t care much about anything attitude well enough, making him that mysterious. I noticed he hung out with three guys, and two girls here and there. He mostly ignored me, even when we were on the same way home, and I couldn’t help feeling small. And he always had the best stash of weed - some good connection of his.

I could do with some weed. The pressure was finally taking a toll on me and I needed a break. I felt like a full-time mother, with a full-time Uni schedule and a part-time job, and it was getting to me. I didn’t have to do more than half it, just a few months ago. The lawyers said I was doing well with my sister, and my schedule and they don’t have to take her away if I kept it up.

Wanting some that night, and knowing he had a good seller, I knocked on his door. He opened the door, raising his eyebrow. He was wearing a shirt which was buttoned down and tucked into his pants. I could see his tastes were still high fashion - it was the way we dressed and money didn’t change that. I did now, know the best cheap places to keep the style up though. I gulped looking at his chest, and then, up to his eyes. I was also horny as fuck, and having my sister sleep next to me every day, didn’t help. He didn’t smirk like men usually did though, and it gave me the confidence to ask him if he had any on hand, if I could buy some of him for now, and get his contact.

“The rich girl can’t walk down to a dispensary and get it for herself?” That disdain again.

“I’m not rich anymore,” I snapped. “I’m sorry,” I calmed myself. “I heard you have a good supplier, and I...it’s cool. Thanks anyway.” I shrugged. He made me want to crawl in bed and cry with the tone he used, and his expressions meant for me. I was going to do just that when he stopped me.

“I was going to roll myself one, right now. Join me,” he pulled his door wide and walked off inside. I nervously pulled my hair behind my ear and walked inside. His house, as small as mine, was spotlessly clean, and so well organised that it made mine look shabby.

“Where is your sister?” He asked as he sat down on the sofa, holding the grinder in his hand.

“Sleepover, friends,” I told him. He raised his head up, nodding. “Do you know how to roll?”

“Umm, actually I never smoked that much,” I said, waiting for the further judgement.

“Really? What was your escape then?” He asked, taking the paper out, and tearing a cardboard piece for the roach. His hands worked skillfully as he put the weed on the paper, looking at me for a reply.

“Umm, escape?” I frowned.

“From the high society drama that you were a part of? I know, I needed an escape,” I was a bit enchanted with how he pulled his tongue out to like the paper to roll the joint, that it took me a while to come back.

I played it cool, pulling my eyes away, “Umm, I had a good family. Only needed an escape when I was really stressed which well didn’t…”

“Fair enough, shall we?” We walked to the balcony, and he lit the joint, taking a drag, and then handing it to me.

I took a smaller one, it being a few months since having smoked, and I didn’t want to look like an idiot.

“So, how was your day?” I asked, looking at the car park view in front of us.

“Alright.” He should ask me back. He didn’t.

“Do you wanna pair up for Benjamin’s class?” I should shut up. I have no clue how I have such great ideas all the time. “We live here, so it’ll just be easier to meet up, so I wondered.”

“Huh,” he didn’t look impressed, as he took another drag before giving it to me.

He didn’t respond, and I was running out of things to talk about, but I was now high and could vouch for his stuff being really great. He threw the bud away, and we walked inside. “Give me a list of what you want, I’ll get it,” He said, handing me a paper.

“Oh, I umm - I don’t want a lot. My sister and I don’t know how to roll,”

“I’m not your servant,”

“What- I- I didn’t,” I sighed. “If you could get me two pre-rolled - that would do for the while. Let me know how much I owe for it. Thank you for today.” I said walking towards the door. “I don’t know why you’re so hostile towards me, you know.” This surge of confidence in me was induced for sure. “I didn’t do you anything.”

“You don’t know? We have a history.” He said, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Our parents have a history. I had nothing to do with the business, and I haven’t met you before, even if we used to be in the same circle. I would remember you,” I walked towards him, pointing a finger at his chest.

“Your parents are the reason my home broke, and my dad’s in prison!” He snapped. “They had a choice to let him go, after destroying us, but he didn’t stop. My mother left-”

“My parents were not the reason your mother left! And your father probably deserved by law what happened to him!”

“I am sure your parents deserved what happened to them!”

I shut up. My brain was a bit slow to process the hurt and put it in front of me like bricks. But, it all came back. The memories, the blood, the sold sign in front of our house, my sister’s howl, and my eyes went cloudy, as I sat down right there on his floor.

“They died,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Harry knelt down in front of me. “I didn’t mean it.”

I was too far gone though, as I looked at my hands, realising that I hadn’t cried since I last held them in my arms when, ”there was so much blood,” i showed him my hands, as he looked at me, my tears pouring out. “I couldn’t save anyone, I tried to-” I said shivering now.

“Hey-hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” He wrapped his arms around me pulling me to his chest. I broke down in his arms.

The next thing, clear in my mind is waking up in a bed, Harry’s bed with his arms still around me, holding me to his body. I shifted a little, back in my conscious head waking him up as well, and his eyes met mine. I kept my head, back on the pillow, not taking my eyes off of his, still having nothing to say. I had opened up to this man more, than literally anyone else. I could still feel his arm under my head, and his other hand wrapped around my waist, my body still attached to his, and I felt comfortable. I didn’t want to read into this. I just wanted to let it be.

He shifted, pulling his hand up from below my head, and I got up, closer to his face, his eyes still on mine, and I instinctively bent down. My lips wrapping around his bottom one in a kiss, as I pushed him down, towards the bed. I felt his hand, hold my face pulling us apart, as our eyes met again, looking for something. He found it, as he brought his lips back to mine, holding my face in his palms, pushing me back to his bed with a force which felt perfect in every way.

---

Would love to know what you think of it? Comments/Request for Part 2?

Masterlist

Copyright ©theStylesproject 2019: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS WORK CONTAINS MATERIAL PROTECTED UNDER INTERNATIONAL AND FEDERAL COPYRIGHT LAWS AND TREATIES. NO PART OF THIS WORK MAYBE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS WITHOUT EXPRESS WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM theStylesproject.

#Harry Styles #harry #styles #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles preference #harry styles oneshots #harry styles smut #harry styles imagines #harry smut #harry styles angst imagine #harry styles imagine #harry styles writings #harry styles dirty imagines #one direction #niall horan #harry styles joint #harry styles weed

43 notes · View notes

daborokii · 6 years

Text

It’s Never Enough, Is It?

You know Shoto, you can’t keep acting like you can survive without me

The words keep echoing through his mind, a reminder that he’s still the son of Endeavor. His masterpiece. The word, simple as it is to other, is toxic to him and never brings any good when thought of. He wanted to be his own person now. He graduated already for fucks sake! He pays his own bills and works for a different agency as a sidekick before going off to school again! School that he’ll pay for himself!

Why the fuck can’t I just get rid of him? Why won’t he leave me alone!?

The windows shake in the massive gym as Todoroki continues his onslaught against the procedurally generated cement practice dummies that are scattered about. Even though he was furious, he was glad Cementoss was about to make this work. The only drawback being the time it took to regenerate after they were all gone [upwards of 5 minutes].

He had been here for a couple of hours now, an intense night terror waking him up only half a cycle into his sleep. This was a much longer episode too, lasting an entire 10 minutes. Normally they happen further along his sleep cycles and last about 1 minute. But, he guesses, since he saw Endeavor recently, that could be the cause of the extreme episode. He hadn’t seen his father in over 2 years, except for when he came to his graduation, but he completely ignored him that day.

But 2 years was cut to zero days Endeavor free recently. He ran into him at his favorite coffee shop, although Endeavor seemed prepared and probably paid someone to give him hints on where his son was. Todoroki almost lit the whole place ablaze, he could barely control himself.

“Nah ah ah Shoto, we’re in public now. Behave yourself.” Endeavor demeaned, his flames enlarged as a show of dominance.

“Fuck you.” Todoroki fired back, turning back to leave and forget about his order that was about to be called.

Endeavor grabbed his arm, pulling him towards an open seat at a table in the corner. “Not so fast son. I need to talk to you.” The coolness in his voice was haunting, reminding the young halved hero of his younger days. And normally, when reminded about such times he would freeze and a switch would go off, but today was not the case, for whatever reason, be it that he’s with Endeavor in the flesh and felt the need to protect himself, or the fact that they were in the coffee shop, Todoroki couldn’t quite put his tongue on it. So he complied and sat, chair smoking from the heated body.

“GRAAAAAAAAHHH” he yelled, a large fwoosh of flames destroying a third of the dummies in one swoop. If he hadn’t trained in controlling both quirks at once he would’ve had burns by now.

“What in the absolute fuck do you want Endeavor?” He bit back, not caring that the entire shop was watching, gossiping to themselves about ‘Oh my god its the number one hero!’ ‘Is that...is that his son?!’ ‘They look so alike!’ ‘I wonder if they’ll come over and talk to us?’ ‘Or at least get a picture with us!’ ‘Dude dude dude get a picture of me with them in the background, I’ll get so many followers on Enstagram!’

“We have to talk about us. Now I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I’ve been sending you birthday and Christmas cards! And I know you get them because my doormen tell me when you pick up your mail!” He said, that fake charm drawing Todoroki to be the bad guy. “You can’t hide from me forever. You live under my roof still, technically.”

“I don’t fucking care. It was what I could afford right now and I pay for it myself. Do you snoop on all you tennants illegally like that?” He replied, eyes narrowed, his glare sharp like daggers towards Endeavor. If only I could stab him right now...

“When are you going back to school? I’ve heard too much about that Deku kid. It’s your time to shine, it’s what I created you for Shoto. It’s what-”

“TAKE HIS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!” He snarled, slamming his open palms on the table, rising out of his seat. One hand was covered in ice as the other made a nice Shoto-shaped-hand scorch mark underneath. “I am just fine where I am! I will go back when I want to!” He moved his hands to the round edges of the table, gripping them tighter and tighter as he raged on. “And for the last goddamn motherfucking time, I am my own person. I am not some creation of yours you can pawn around to surpass Deku. He’s not All Might. And I will never be like you. He is a kind hero that deserves his current under-pro rank.” He reiterated for what must’ve been the 15th time since meeting Deku. He kept his eyes trained on Endeavor’s, hoping to maybe just maybe break through his God-like exterior and get him to leave him alone. If even just long enough for him to find another place...

The silence between them and throughout the shop was horrifying. No one dared to speak a word when someone that has flames hotter than Endeavor’s screamed like that, to his own father. The quiet lasted for what felt like an eternity. The unadulterated rage continued coursing throughout Todoroki, ready to strike when necessary.

Endeavor merely huffed.

“You know Shoto, you can’t keep acting like you can survive without me”

He slammed his foot on the ground and shot out a lane of ice that he skated on, creating more to guide him as he traversed around the cement Endeavors, blasting each one to smithereens, alternating between ice and fire. When he got to the final one, he coated a fist in ice and punched right through it with a mighty, pained roar, only the base of it remaining. He stood there in an athletic stance, panting rapidly, sweat dripping down both sides of his face. His clothes were pretty much non-existent on his left side, spare his specialty-made flame resistant boxer briefs, and coated in frost on his right side, holes forming from the cracks as he moved. Each exhale was accompanied by a slight growl.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar soft footsteps of an old friend. But now wasn’t the time to be cordial. All he did was grit his teeth and hold his mouth in a tight line as he shot his glare in the direction of the noise at the other side of the gym.

@shattered-fox

#lol sorry yeah im real tired #fucking #that was so long im so sorry #i just #i really got in the zone at writing their interaction #im real excited for you to read it though #rp #closed #shattered-fox #tw angst #angst #tw endeavor #just endeavor #his existence is a trigger for some #todoroki #diana #it's never enough is it

6 notes · View notes

justsomeheadcanons · 6 years

Text

DeanxCasxMeg:”Kiss or Kill” Chapter 1 (available on AO3)

Title: Kiss or Kill Pairing: DeanxCasxMeg Rating: Teen (nothing explicit but still some sexy stuff) Word count: So far 2000 words (the rest will be on AO3 when I finish it) Square: “Assassin/Hitman AU” @spnpolybingo Content Warning: non-graphic depictions of violence, guns, anxiety, premeditation

In our lives, there are days where we must step up and prove ourselves, not only to others, but to ourselves. That day has come, today, for Castiel Novak-Masters. He is about to take on his first big mission and prove himself to the rest of the organization. All he has to do is carry out what he had been taught since he joined the organization. All he has to do is kill one man.

Castiel himself will admit that despite the intensive training he’d followed, he has no clue how he’s going to do it. It was one thing to learn how to defend himself, and all the different ways to poison someone without leaving a trace, but it’s a whole different challenge to actually do it. Happily, he isn’t alone. His best friend, most trusted confident, and fiancée, Meg, would be there to help. Her company reassured Castiel a lot, but also reminded him of the stakes of this operation. If he succeeds, he will officially be part of the organization and will get to live the life he has planned with Meg. If he fails though, he will be forced to leave the organization and probably be “terminated”, never seeing his beloved future wife again. The mere thought of losing her, is enough for him to be willing to do anything, even kill a stranger. It was selfish, he knew, but he couldn’t let one person, probably a terrible person, get between him and his plan. He lets that thought guide him while he packs his bag, sliding his knives between two sweaters and his pocket gun into it’s holster on his upper thigh. He slides on his long black trench coat, picks up his bag, and walks out of the door.

As he approaches the black Land Rover he can see Meg sitting in the driver’s seat smiling at him.

“Hey there angel !” she chimes as he opens the door to the car. “Ready for your big day?”

She punches him on the shoulder while he sits down. He smiles at her, trying to seem as confident as he can when he answers.

“You bet I am! Mr…” he looks down towards the papers sitting between them trying to remember his target’s name “Jonathan Smith better watch out !”

She smiled lovingly at him, “Yes he better, because here comes the most badass couple in America !”

He looked at her surprised “You think we’re the most badass couple in America?” he chuckles, starting the car.

“Yeah, definitely ! I mean we’re trained assassins! How much more hardcore could there be?”

She had a point, there probably weren't many couples of professional killers in America, and if there were, he doubted they would be offended that they had appropriated the top spot. Real professionals certainly didn’t care about being the best or not, they just did their job. He hoped he'd be able to do the same.

During the drive, their conversations ranged from gossip from the organization to Meg counting the bullets in their carry-on bag out loud while Castiel tried to distract her, both purposefully avoiding the subject of how exactly they intended to use the bullets.

About half the way through the trip, they decided to stop to buy basic necessities, knowing their motel would probably not be high class. Their target moves a lot, never staying long in one location, but they had tracked him down to a motel in Michigan where he has been staying for a week. According to Castiel’s documentation, a week is a long stay for Johnathan Smith. He seemed to constantly be on the run. Perhaps he was fleeing something, or maybe even somebody? Castiel thought. It was quite ironic to think he had no clue they were the ones he should be scared of…

After thirteen hours of driving they finally arrived at the motel. It was exactly the way Castiel had imagined it: on the side of a state road, almost vacant, and not exactly at the hype of modern architecture, but surprisingly clean looking. He stretches, relieved to get out of the car and stand up after so long sitting. The couple walks up to the hotel clerk’s desk a calculated tired smile on their lips.

“Hello,” Meg salutes the lanky man behind the counter. “We’ll take your suite. We’re on our honeymoon !” she enthuses flashing her engagement ring at him.

Castiel can’t hold back a light scoff and rolls his eyes a bit when the man instantly perks up and books them the suite. Meg had been using the honeymoon excuse to get on people’s good side ever since they looked old enough for the part. He couldn’t believe how easily it worked, it was so cheesy. She would never admit it but Castiel knows, it’s her way of showing how much she appreciates him. Meg furiously defended her anti-“touchy-feely” façade, but deep down she was the sweetest and most caring woman he’d met. That’s one of the reasons he loved her so much.

In their kind of life, people don’t tend to be particularly faithful, and marriages don’t last long; weddings are often spur of the moment choices, or lust motivated half promises. In an environment where violence was so common, love became violent too. The omnipresent fear of losing it all pushed them into a blaze of passion that rapidly burned away all the romance of what love is supposed to be. The stronger the flames the quicker the candle melts, they say… well somehow, Castiel and Meg’s candle burned bright but their flame has been steady for over 4 years.

Once alone in their room, they settle down. Castiel pulls the blinds down on their windows while Meg hides their weaponry in the empty closet. He then sets up a camera on the windowsill so they can insure they’re not being watched. Little by little, the basic motel room turns into a true assassin’s HQ.

Once all the suspicious material had been concealed, the two of them laid down on the double bed facing each other, silently taking in the sight of the other. Castiel looked tense.

“Nervous?” Meg asks, reaching out to caress Castiel’s cheek.

He nods lightly leaning in to the touch.

“Don’t be scared. I know it sounds difficult, but that’s because you’re thinking too much about it. You’ve always been a worrier…This guy will never know what hit him, you’ve trained your whole life for this. He’s no match for you.”

“That’s not the problem Meg… I’m just not sure what we’re doing is right… What has this man done to deserve to die? We barely know anything about him and we’re just going to execute him in cold blood?”

Meg looks at him taking in a deep breath before answering.

“I know it’s hard to accept the part of unknown in our job, but we are agents of the greater good, and we have to trust those in charge.”

She passed her fingers gently through his hair before going to the bathroom to change into sleepwear.

Castiel laid down and took a deep breath, trying to calm the doubts that had started to grow in his mind. He was doing this for the greater good. He’s not doing this out of vengeance or personal gain. The organization wants the best for all. He repeated the organization’s motto to himself “The world is a garden, and we are it’s gardeners. Some evil seeds must be destroyed to keep the garden safe. The world is a garden…” The repetition of the familiar phrase calmed him enough to return to his usual self.

“You know what might make you feel a bit more confident?” Meg started, returning from the bathroom in a sateen slip.

He looked at her, his eyebrow cocked, curious to know what her miracle solution could be.

She poked his chest lightly, climbing on the bed to straddle him.

“Getting some testosterone flowing by enjoying some sweet sweet lovin’ with your future wife.” she offered in a seductive voice

He rolled his eyes at her offer, but still pulled her in for a kiss.

Her soft lips were so familiar, and the shape of her body, which he could feel through the light undergarment, was so comforting that for a moment he decided to indulge in a moment of softness before the horrors he would have to commit the next day.

Her hands slid behind his neck, rubbing soothing circles into the nape of his neck as she deepened the kiss. He let out a slight hum of approval in response. His hands slid under her nightgown meeting the silk of her thong. The blue one, he thought, my favorite.

He rolled them over and pulled her underwear off, tossing them to the side of the bed. Between two kisses he stopped to whisper in her ear “I think you were right again babe.”

She smiled and answered with a wink. “I always am Cas.”

The flow of oxytocin and adrenalin generated by having sex with Meg distracted Castiel from his fear of what was to come but, just as he started to give in to the post-coital haziness, the thought of the cold-blooded murder that awaited creeped back into his mind keeping him up most of the night.

They spent the next day finishing their preparatives for the task. Castiel made some phone calls to the rooms neighboring their target’s to inform them that the rooms they were in were suspected of having toxic molds in them and that they had to evacuate as quickly as possible for their safety. Clearing those rooms was essential. They couldn’t have any accidental witnesses or have them call in noise complaints and get them arrested so close to their goal. Meg took upon herself to break into the motel’s main supply closet to “borrow” a maid’s outfit and janitor’s trolley. Upon seeing her return with all the stolen material, Castiel froze in a sudden access of panic.

“What did you steal all that stuff for? You’re going to get us caught!” he accused

She put a hand on his shoulder trying to calm his nerves. “Chill… Nobody will notice this stuff disappearing, and we’ve got to have some sort of excuse to show up in this guy’s room.”

Castiel sighed unable to formulate any valid opposition.

“So we go give him a visit tonight ?” she offered

“Why would the cleaning staff show up in the middle of the night?” he asked “Your disguise idea is good, but in that case we need to change the timeline and move the actual task to tomorrow morning. This offsets everything we planned… What if they move new people into the rooms we cleared? What if the nocturnal activity alerts the desk clerk ?”

She hadn’t thought of that. She might have just compromised it all, she realized, but she refused to give up so easily on their original timeline.

“This guy, from what we know, is no genius… I mean we have no records of him going to any highschool. Who’s to say he wouldn’t believe we’re just passing by for a quick clean? We could say that other guests have complained because of an odor and that we’re there to investigate on it.” Meg offered.

Castiel shook his head. “Even a child wouldn’t believe that. Motel cleaning staff aren’t paid enough to work night shifts like that… I think we should stick to the original plan of breaking into the room, but just include the outfits as well as a back up. Maintenance probably has the keys to every room so that would explain how we got in.”

Meg nodded. It was far from the fool-proof plans they had learned to elaborate during their Organization training but it’s the best they had.

#meanstiel #deanxcasxmeg #meg masters #dean winchester #castiel #spn fanfiction #spn polybingo #spnpolybingo #spn

2 notes · View notes

stvictoriasrpg · 6 years

Text

FULL NAME: Alex Harris. DATE OF BIRTH: March 16th, 2001. SCHOOL HOUSE: Riccal House. DORMITORY: 8C. A LEVEL SUBJECT CHOICES: Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Maths. EXTRA CURRICULAR ACTIVITIES: Captain of the Football Team. TOP THREE TEXT CONTACTS: “gabbs” (Gabriella), “poLILitical” (Lily) and “sam my man” (Sam). STATUS: TAKEN, by KATIE. FACECLAIM: Michael B. Jordan.

BIOGRAPHY:

Fair play to the guy, honestly. He dated the “it” girl for two whole years before they finally called it quits. It’s no surprise he’s totally gone into hiding since her death.

Being a bouncing, cheeky lad from Winchester, Alex Harris was born in a somewhat “naive” society - surrounded by middle class Historians and a way-too-friendly family. He was the youngest son out of three, which meant he grew up a hell of a lot quicker than he originally expected to - siblings do that to a person, y’know? The society he grew up in was dominated by community; everyone knew each other, and while this was generally a good thing, it also meant gossip spread like a wildfire. You had to learn to find people to trust carefully and be skeptical before you opened up your heart to someone.

Going to St. Victoria’s Boarding School came as a shock to the family. No one expected Grandpa Jake to suddenly start talking about boarding school and funding the money himself - yet a few months later? Alex was sat on the train, flicking through comic books and awaiting a new adventure elsewhere. On his first day he ended up getting lost and having to ask a total stranger - who turned out to eventually be called Gabriella Davies - for directions. They became fast friends; their chemistry coming naturally, yet they waited until they were beginning Year Ten before they finally started dating.

It was the kind of “head over heels” love that Alex never even knew existed. They were both smitten with each other; sitting next to each other in classes, going on “weekend visits” to Brighton on the beach and making future plans together. The whole school would talk about their relationship, watching as they sat in classes making goofy eyes at each other.

Two years later, and things had gotten a little more…sour. But it was only in the summer of Year 10 that things completely changed. Alex had made the decision to stay at the Boarding School over summer to focus on his grades and sports without distraction, and it was at a random party that he met Amelia Nelson; it was an instant connection. Out of loyalty to Gabriella, Alex and Amelia’s summer ‘fling’ was never physical; it was never cheating, but Alex definitely fell for Amelia. She made him feel light, and safe, and happy; something Gabriella never had done before. Call it whatever you want; but Alex took the easy way out; he was too much of a coward to admit that his relationship was failing, or to break things off with Gabriella. Summer ended, and so did the fling. Even now, Alex wondered what happened to Amelia and looks back at their time together with regret and guilt.

Being mixed up in the life of Gabriella was toxic. She was bitter; manipulative; and would spend hours sitting with Alex plotting the downfall of other people. They would start arguing about silly things, especially when Alex would challenge her on some of the awful things that she would do to people. She grew jealous; screaming at him that he was flirting with other girls and forgetting about her. After months of fighting, going on breaks, and spending more time apart than together, Alex finally called things off. Truth be told, it felt like a relief to Alex. He could finally focus on the more important things, rather than treading on eggshells around his own girlfriend. There was something…twisted, and suspicious, in the world that she lived in that Alex was scared about. Maybe this was a good thing.

Gabriella’s death, however, hit him hard. It was so unexpected, and out of the blue, and it honestly felt like the end of everything - yes, he was a little dramatic sometimes. The overwhelming support that he received from the student body felt like too much. He couldn’t handle the sympathetic glances or the “i’m sorry for your losses”. His first love was gone, and had been brutally ripped from everyone’s lives. It especially didn’t help with the added guilt of what went down with Lily, and the fact that they were both at the apparent place of Gabriella’s death when she was murdered and they didn’t see anything. It made no sense.

When everyone returned to school in January, Alex requested a few weeks more to stay at home - his head was all over the place. He could barely comprehend what had even happened. Now, however, he’s finally ready to make a return and face the music.

#ah

1 note · View note

awed-frog · 7 years

Text

Ladies Drink Free/Playing House

The biggest reaction I had about this episode was about Claire, but since it’s slightly wanky, I’ll save it for the end so you don’t have to read it if you don’t want to. My other thoughts generally went into a Mick direction - who the hell is he, and what are they doing with him?

Because this guy - he’s supposed to be this bookworm who’s never seen any action, but at the same time he kept a remarkably cool head around the Alpha Vampire and, more importantly, he killed a kid without falling apart at all. No hesitation, no second thoughts, nothing. He’d spoken to her mom and all, and that made no difference. So now I’m kind of wondering - of course, narratively they decided it had to happen this way to establish a Claire precedent and give them something to fight about, but Mick wasn’t disturbed, or apologetic in the slightest. I mean - he’s not a psychopath, so there was this barely there sadness clinging to him, but it’s also clear that to him, these are animals, and, sure - it’s a shame to put down the family pet when it’s got rabies, but what can you do? It’s certainly not something that’ll make you sleep any less soundly. Plus, he was perfectly capable to hold his own during the investigation, and even saved Dean’s life at the end. I think Sam and Dean are underestimating this guy - assuming he’s just a squint and it’s Mr Ketch they got to worry about - and judging from next week’s promo, that’s something that will land them into a lot of trouble.

It’s also remarkable that they agreed to continue with this alliance at all, and it’s not clear, to me, what is forgivable and what isn’t in their world. Asa’s friend and that Alpha Vampire’s sidekick were exiled, or worse, but when Mary’s duplicity resulted in another hunter’s death, nothing much happened. Here we’ve got Mick killing a young girl and potentially damaging the investigation (they’re supposed to work as a team, right? and that girl had vital information into who the werewolf was), and yet he gets a second chance because, what, he knew about a method of curing lycanthropy which should never have worked? I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it, per se, just that I don’t know where the line is anymore. Maybe that’s the point?

The other thing is, if Mick was played as a Cas parallel - in a very vague, ‘dorky and slightly unshaven guy with tan coat riding in the back of the Impala’ way, then I’m going to be superhappy that he cosplayed as one of Dean’s established crushes. I mean, Mick was wearing grey both at the beginning and at the end of the episode - he only changed into a deep blue shirt in time to be mistaken for Dr Sexy, so surely I’m not the only one who’s slightly suspicious about their motives or noticed the look Dean gave him?

I’m also happy about Dean ‘repression&deflection’ Winchester calling out Mick for not being open about his feelings (dude, seriously?).

And it was nice, as always, to see the storyline focusing on toxic masculinity and toxic heterosexual relationships and Dean being pissed at men who treat women like dirt. Someone who grew up like he did and lives a life of motels and random violence could very easily have been one of those ‘women are bitches’ fuckboys, and the fact he’s not never fails to warm my heart.

That said, time to use my mom voice and talk about Claire.

I really didn’t want to, but I’m finally calling it: I’m too old to be okay with teen heroes. It’s a sad moment, and surely some kind of turning point in life, or whatever, but what can you do? We all grow up at some point. In case you’re wondering if this is happening to you too, symptoms include a) scoffing at Claire, b) wanting to strangle Claire, c) yelling Just do as you’re told, Claire and d) Go back to school, Claire at various intervals during this Ladies Drink Free episode.

I mean - I do like her, and she’s ballsy af, and I want to hope that being an angel vessel will afford her some kind of protection going forward (who knows, maybe that’s exactly why she survived that untested cure), but for fuck’s sake.

The first rule is, like, you don’t hunt alone - not if you have a choice. And Claire’s got plenty of choices - not only she lives with Jody (and, come on, how likely is it that Jody can do ‘all the work’ during a hunt? what Claire meant by that is probably that Jody talks to people, which, considering Claire’s underage and looks about twelve, seems reasonable enough; but when it comes to driving around and ‘hitting the lore’ and fighting and shooting - even if Jody wanted to keep Claire’s involvement down to a minimum, we know how hunts go - they’re simply too unpredictable for that), but she’s got access to Cas, Sam, and Dean, and, through Jody, to a whole network of other hunters we know nothing about.

(Jody had a thing with Asa, remember? So all these people are not as unconnected as they appear to be.)

So to up and leave like that, telling no one where you are, hunting things local police will know nothing about - that’s basically a death wish. Remember how surprised even Sam was when Dean showed up at Stanford and told him he was hunting on his own? And we’re talking about someone who was trained to do that since he was six years old.

One point for Claire, though, is that she sort of understands you should maybe give a call to your loved ones when you’re dying?

(Not Cas, though, because apparently this never happens - Sam never thought about calling Cas was Dean was on the brink of death, and nobody thinks about calling him this time around, either. Not that I’m bitter, or anything.)

Unfortunately for Jody, though, by the time Claire realizes that she’s already turning, so it’s a good thing she survived or Sam and Dean would have had some serious explaining to do.

And, look, I understand most TV show out there have this dumb do or die 40 minutes format, but I’m really uncomfortable when someone makes life-altering (or life-destroying) decisions without even trying something else first. Because Claire, who insists, both during and at the end of the episode that she’s a big girl and she can do everything alone, including hunting supernatural monsters -

(look, I love her, but this is someone whose only accomplishment in this episode was to have a successful gossip with a bunch of high schoolers, remember? because everything else - she pissed off the victim’s mother, didn’t manage to make her way into the morgue, antagonized her main witness by throwing beer into his face - which, okay, he was being an ass but you’re working, Claire, so do what’s useful to the case, not what’s morally right - had a fight with someone she was supposed to be working with, stomped out into the woods with her headphones on to calm down even though she knew there was a werewolf around, got herself bitten and kidnapped and tied up - not exactly the resumé of someone who’s ready to go at it alone, especially considering this is a very dangerous line of work and no one should go at it alone)

- when push comes to shove has to admit that she’s a mess and she’s not strong enough to try and live with lycanthropy. Which, okay, fair enough, but these things can be learned? Many people (almost everyone) are sort of a mess when they’re 20 - it doesn’t mean that’s going to be your default personality forever and ever. And this line of reasoning, and its consequences (an untested medical procedure which had a very high chance to result in agony and death) are particularly disturbing if we consider lycanthropy is often used in fiction as a metaphor of some kind of disease. Like, ugh?

You know, when Claire was babbling about that, I had a flashback to this conversation I had last month with a friend who’s living with severe manic depression. This person, after a disastrous period in a mental hospital where she was medicated up to her eyebrows, is now trying a different approach (under medical supervision): she’s adhering to a very strict routine, she doesn’t drink, she doesn’t eat certain foods, she works out four times a week. For someone like her, who used to be a party animal, changing her habits in such a dramatic fashion was a shock. It’s not been easy, like, at all, and thank God she’s got a supportive family and friends who live closer to her than I do. But the thing is, it’s working.

Being diagnosed with any incurable illness - like lycanthropy, for instance - is certainly difficult and will require a lot of adjustement, but it’s not the end of your life, and maybe it’s time fiction stopped to portray it as such. The fact Claire asked her friends to kill her without seriously considering any other possibility, and the fact Sam and Dean went along with that despite knowing for a fact that lycanthropy can be managed, kind of set my teeth on edge. Again, I understand it was a big and dramatic scene and whatever, but really - ew.

#spn 12x16 #ladies drink free #spn meta #claire novak #mick davies #destiel #if you squint #some negativity #so i'll say it again #i love claire #i think she's a fantastic character #and a good kid #but when you're lucky enough #to have reasonable adults in you life #who love you to bits #maybe listen to their advice #not even teenagers know everything

66 notes · View notes