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purekesseltrash · 3 years

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This is my final ask talking about BTD so it has to be perfect, I literally created a google doc so I wouldnt fuck it up before I sent it

Shoji replaying a song over and over while doing a task reminded me of when I listened to “Ophelia” by The Lumineers on repeat while drinking coffee on my kitchen counter and lemme tell ya, I’ve been chasing that high ever since

Yeah knowing you'd have *some* family but not all of them after coming out sucks major ass but its the truth, I'm ever so grateful that the only person who would react negatively that I know would be my maternal Grandmother whos a narcissistic bitch who I haven't spoken to in years so like, i dont give a shit what she thinks but I know that it would be hard on Shoji seeing how family oriented he is in this story and him knowing his relationships with his siblings and parents would be rocky makes my heart break for him

OOOOO BITCHHHHHH HES TEXTING HIMMMMMMM

That went over a lot smoother than I thought it would, I mean i'm incredibly happy that they’re like, getting together, but I honestly expected it to be more drawn out

Awww Tokoyami getting their as fast as he could and Shoji being soft for domestic Tokoyami

Sweet jesus I can relate to Shoji just randomly thanking his friend for being his friend, the amount of times I’ve wanted to just ominously text my friends a “thank you for everything” is too many to count

I LOVE GRITTY, HE REMINDS ME OF MY CAT WHOS A MAINE COON (his names Chewie if you're interested)

I knew Mic would suck at cooking, its just so him

I practically squealed at Shoji changing Tokoyami’s contact name to Fumikage

Okay, little background story, I keep a list in my notes app of headcanons for Tokoyami and literally one of them on there says word for word “Dogs absolutely love him and he loves them right back” so im SO GLAD you made him a dog person, making him a cat person seems like the easy route

LAWYER MOM IS INTRODUCED i honestly didn't picture her as a blonde but now I see it

Tokoyami’s mom being incredibly enthusiastic reminds me a lot of my mom, she always get excited when people have pride flags hanging up and suggested we get a pride flag so that made me appreciate my mama more than I already have been

I swear to god my eyes got as big as saucers hearing the part about cheesecake because I'm from New Hartford and forgot Hartford was a different city.

I can just picture Aizawa SLAMMING the brakes and whipping his head around, hair flying, as he looks at Shoji

“And he let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding” how much more cliche could you get, not gonna lie that made me laugh

All right I have to confess something. I've skipped every transcript of Put Your Sticks Up because I was impatient and wanted to get to the story. Now you know my biggest secret, I always felt bad but would get frustrated cause I wanted to hear ‘bout my boys.

The last precious worm ask! I am finally on my laptop so I can give this the proper attention.

Ngl, when my head isn't working, I will just put on one song and play it over and over and over and over and over until something comes into my head. My ShinOji fic 'Gold Rush' came from that. Still not sure how I managed to make a somewhat decent fic out of a song about gentrification but my mind is a wild and wonderful place.

Yeah, Shouji goes through it with his family. One thing that I can say though is that as Shouji starts to get more and more successful with his art, Tokoyami starts to spitefully send articles and reviews written on his work to his parent's house. He never gets a response but doesn't expect to, he just feels like they should see how amazing their son is, goddamnit. The one day, a letter comes back. Tokoyami opens it, expecting it to be them telling him to knock it off and instead, one of the pictures has been sent back with 'This is beautiful' written in pen, an arrow pointing to one of his vases. Tokoyami then has to show it to Shouji and explain what he did. Shouji cries basically all night. That starts a very, very tenuous back and forth with his mom.

Gonna put the rest of this under a break because it's gonna be long

You should have seen my first outline if you thought this was quick with them figuring it out. Basically, the only reason that Tokoyami broke it off in the first place was because he didn't see that there was a chance of it working. They worked so well otherwise. Amazing chemistry, complimentary senses of humor, Tokoyami didn't want to break it off at all. He just felt like he had to because otherwise they were both going to get more hurt. So when Shouji was like 'okay, but actually I do want to try this', he was all in.

Ojiro is legit Shouji's first real friend. Which is really really sad given that they met when they were eighteen but Shouji never really got a chance to do anything normal.

Maine Coons rule and Chewie is an excellent name for them. I was going to name their cat after Marie Phillipe Poulin, the greatest women's hockey player ever, but I decided that Gritty would be funnier. Mic as a bad cook is deeply satisfying, I picture him being like me, just all 'okay but I just do enough to make something to survive on and uh.... who needs all the details and stuff'.

The name change actually came from my beta. They asked why his contact was still Western Civ Tutor in the beginning of the chapter and I was like 'oooo, great way to show how they have changed'.

And maaaaaaaaaan. I'm sorry but how is someone who is a bird gonna like a cat. Nah. Tokoyami is a dog person. They do go on to get a dog. They were going to get a Shiba Inu or something catlike until Kenta came through with a hound puppy that he'd found in the rain while on his route and just dumps it in Shouji's lap like 'Surprise!'. They name it Lu after Roberto Luongo, famed goalie. The dog is a goddamned menace and Shouji ends up having to take it to classes and learn about dog training so they can all keep their sanity. He ends up loving Lu the most. (I do some part time dog training so I had to throw that in)

Tokoyami dyes his hair. He's actually a mousy blond under the dye like his mama. And yeah, my parents are hella supportive too. I figured it would be healthy for one of them to have accepting parents.

Aizawa was pretty pissed, ngl. For all that he should know better, he got caught up in the same shit that coaches tend to slip into, which is a responsibility because they have someone with potential that they must mold and then when they go on to do amazing things, they can feel a part of it. But then he realizes where he fucked up and how he was so busy seeing Shouji the hockey player that he couldn't see Shouji the person.

Listen, it's my fanfic, so I'm gonna get as cheesy as I damn well please. I'd written a super cheesy ending for the end of 'Black Sun' and was waffling on keeping it until somebody was like 'it's a fic, be as cheesy as you want'. I can has my cheese, as a treat.

WHAT IN THE FUCK WORM. HOW CONFUSED HAVE YOU BEEN THIS ENTIRE TIME?!?!?! this legit made me laugh out loud when I read it. GO BACK AND READ MIC'S SHOW!!! I set up so much stuff to try and prepare the reader to understand the emotional stakes, not to mention the basic facts of hockey! That being said, I get the feeling.

Thank you for this last super mega grande worm ask, sorry that it took me so long, I wanted to be able to give it my full attention. <3

#btd

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slut-for-fandoms · 5 years

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Paint me yours (kth x reader) PART 1

Pairings: Artist!Taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, fluff, angst (in the following chapters)

Summary: You are an art college student who struggles with finances. Until one day, on an exhibition of the arising artist Kim Taehyung, when the same boy offers you a job as his model. Would it be just a simple job or would it complicate your life in ways you have never thought it would?

Warnings: none in this one (perhaps my bad writing and lots of mistakes?)

A/N: So here is the first chapter. I really don’t know what to think about it as i haven’t written anything in more than a year (so sorry guys but now I am back, yey) I really do hope you like it and please let me know what you think and whether you would like to be tagged in the series ♥ Enjoy

Euphoria. Excitement. Happiness. Exaltation. A complete symphony of colors and emotions. Blue, purple, violet, azure - blended in such a way that glues you to the masterpiece. At places it seems unfinished, raw, as though the creator has been in a hurry. But at the same time it is so detailed that you wonder how long it took him to create it. It represents a woman, or to be more precise, a young girl. Long hair composed with ochre, amber, honey and a hint of gold, covers half of her pale face. Her lips are the perfect combination of red, cheery, wine and auburn. An orderly chaos of colors.

While everything seems just as raw painting, the most capturing features are the eyes. They are so detailed and express the condition of the girl. The sparks that make her look tangible grabs you on a roller coaster of thoughts and feelings and somehow makes you even experience the same state. I move to the next painting.

Sadness. Affliction. Pain. Torment. The contrast between the used shades is much deeper. Pale yet dark. The more I look at it, the more it captivates me. All of the creations I saw were beyond amazing, complete masterpieces but this one… This one is different. One look and I got this strange feeling in my guts when we anticipate something bad, something that might hurt us.

The background is composed of dark shades, while the girl is sculpted of the pale range of colors. Again, the most detailed parts are the eyes. You get the feeling as if a soul was trapped inside the drawn girl that shows how much she suffers. The more you contemplate, the more you assume that the darkness around her represents the cruel world, while the bright yet shaded colors shows how fragile and broken she is. Is it from the world? What destroyed her? Who made her look like a shattered vase which parts are no longer going to form its beautiful shape?

Holding my glass of champagne I took some steps back and sat on the settee opposite the painting. Thanks god it wasn’t that low as they use to be in other galleries. I crossed my legs which caused the hem of my black dress to roll up slightly. As an art student, I tend to visit many exhibitions in order to get inspiration, gain knowledge of the new and unorthodox styles and improve mine. I can’t say I am complaining as we are given free access to any kind of such events. This is beyond amazing as now I am contemplating the art of one of the rising artists – Kim Taehyung. Honestly, I have never seen him but the critics consider him the new Van Gogh and now I understand why.

When I came I was so uneven about it, all the people here were rich and classy and I, a broken student with a cheap dress borrowed from her friend, had no place here. Everything was out of my league and I felt like garbage disfiguring this place.

“You seem really immersed into the picture.”, someone chucked, bringing me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw man in golden suit and two glasses of champagne in his hands. His smile was so bright, genuine, that it made me blush slightly, “May I?”, he titled his head towards the settee as if asking if it was free.

“Ye- yeah, of course”, I stuttered and put a lock of fallen hair behind my ear.

His smile grew bigger and he took the free seat next to me.

“Here.”, he gave me one of the glasses. I looked up at him confused, “I saw that you have already finished yours so…”, I looked at my glass which was empty. I might have stayed there for a way longer time that I have thought. I left the glass on the floor next to the settee.

“Thank you.”, I gave him a smile, although inside I was feeling embarrassed, “Very fond of you.”, I said after taking the offered glass.

“Well, I just wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I have left such a beautiful lady sitting here by her side. The champagne was just an excuse to approach you.”, I bit my lip and tried to hide myself due to the blush that crept on my face.

“You are even more appealing when blushing.”, okay, I have never believed I could become so red but here I am.

“Please, stop.”, I stuttered through the smile that just grew bigger on my face.

“Why?”, he tilted his head and asked me with that sweet smirk still placed on his face, his eyes never leaving my figure, “you don’t like honest people?”, as a response I chuckled and tried to gain my dignity and look at him. Why was I such a blushing mess around this… stranger…a handsome stranger?

“It is just that you are the first one to approach me this evening.”, a slight feeling of sadness made my stomach turn as I recall the events, pardon, the lack of them from this night. I started playing with my hands as something as pity overwhelmed me.

“Well-”, his deep baritone voice made me look at him. This time he was facing the painting in front of us which gave me the opportunity to survey him. Soft pink lips, sweet roundy nose, medium long light eyelashes. Skin in the color of bronze and a golden suit that make him look like a god. Aristocratic hands with long fingers, adorned with rings. The way he is holding the glass gives you the thoughts that a prince is sitting oppose you, “It is their lose.”, he states after locking his eyes with mine. And then I’m completely lost. They are just like the sad girls’ in the paintings – full of emotions. I see the same spark that leads directly to his soul. It captivates you. There is love, care, tenderness that make my heart skips a beat. But also you can spot something wild and intriguing. An abyss of feelings kept locked deep inside.

He took a sip of his champagne which caught my attention and made me break the eye contact. How could such a simple action as drinking makes me wanna grab the brushes and paint this gorgeous creature on the canvas?

“I can’t say I am complaining of that.”, I followed his movements and took a taste of my drink, “They seem like they are here only for talking. All of them are just chit-chatting and just at times spare a glance at the paintings. It – It just looks like a gathering of the rich and bitchy class.”, suddenly he burst into laughing. Oh that sound… It was like a soft melody for my years I could listen to all day. It was so infectious and addicting.

“What?”, I asked confused but with a smile plastered on my face.

“I couldn’t have said it more correctly. I’ve met everybody in the gallery and yet you are the only one contemplating the works.”

“Isn’t that what we are supposed to do on an exhibition? But apart from that, these paintings, these masterpieces…”, I took a breath like looking at the sad girl opposite me, “they are captivating. There is life in them, there is soul. Undoubtedly the artist is one of the best I’ve ever come across. Many have the ability to draw, few have the talent to create a masterpiece, something that makes you stop and think. And these here, they indeed convey more than a hundred words.”

“And where do you think that comes from?”, he asks me in that deep voice of his. I turn my attention back on him to see the man already looking at me with a stern expression showing nothing.

“The ability to make a painting live?”, he nodded his head in agreement, “Pain.”

“Pain?”

“Pain. It is always the pain. Why do you think the greatest artists are those who have suffered the most? Sadness, sorrow, ache, agony… they are different than the other feelings. When something good happens to you, you are happy for a short moment. Usually those moments tends to be forgotten way easier than the moments that our soul was in pain. It is just that the affliction we bottle inside us ruins us in the end. The knots in our stomach, the suffocating feeling in our chest… they are tormenting us and we all need a way to express them somehow, to try to get them out of us. And the answer is always the art. It doesn’t matter whether it would be with a brush or a pen in our hands, if we are going to compose a poem, song or just draw something. We just want the pain away. For its tight fist around our hearts to weaken, for its dark thoughts to leave us at peace at night, for the tears to stop rolling down and choke us.”, I paused in order to take a sip of my champagne, feeling his eyes following my movements, “That is one of the reasons why I like this one so much.”, I continued pointing at the work before us, “It look as if not only the model had been sad, but also the artist.”, when I turned around he had a sad smile on his face. For a moment I saw the abyss – full of sorrow and regret, pain and affliction.

“You can’t be more right.”, and once again, as he looked up, the door to his soul closed with that stern expression, “That is why I don’t know whether I like this work or not.”

“It recalls a bad event?”

“It recalls the day I painted her.”

My eyes were so wide that surely they were going to pop out of my head. I opened my mouth, then close it, then opened it again. I was so shocked that I could say nothing.

“I still remember how heartbroken she was.”

“You- you are the artist?”, my voice raised an octave higher and I cursed myself.

“Surprised?”, he asked smiling at my shocked expression.

“You just caught me off guard.”

And then the rest of the night kind of slips my mind. I don’t really know how long we’d been talking through various topics. Whatever felt like hours had only been half an hour once I saw the watch on my hand.

“Unfortunately, as a host, I need to make a speech. It was nice to meet you -”

“(Y/N)!”, answering I took his hand as he helped me get up from the settee.

“(Y/N).”, he said tasting my name and I could not miss the way his tongue rolled and the deep voice that sent shivers down my spine, “A beautiful name for a way more gorgeous girl.”

“Why are you trying to make my blush so hard?”, I asked trying to hide my face.

“I don’t know. I just like it.”, he shrugged with a smile, “Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”, is it just me or he just lowered his voice on purpose while saying my name.

“O-Of course.”, out of nervousness I started playing with my own hands which only made his smirk grow bigger.

“Would you like to be my model, darling?”

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canadiankazz · 5 years

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The Sixth Time - An L.A. by Night Fanfic

Seeing as how his sanctum is currently off-limits, Annabelle invites Jasper over to her place. He gets a little bold during feeding again and they talk about the Blood Bond.

L.A. By Night Alternative Universe where Jasper has been feeding from Annabelle for several weeks/months and they have developed a Blood Bond. SPOILERS for the end of Campaign 1 including the one-shots. This was written before Season 2, Episode 4.

It’s worth reading the rest of the series before this part.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

I lay no claim to owning any of the characters involved.

As always, special thanks to @cravatfiend for the support, feedback and encouragement during the writing of the drafts. Special love to @gokaiyellow for their additional input and for being as patient as they can, and to @fluffy-wookiees because it was our conversation about Blood Bonds that inspired the main chunk of this fic. Thank you to everyone else who has enjoyed this series so far.

Also posted to the author’s Ao3.

First published Feb. 11, 2019.

The Sixth Time Jasper Fed From Annabelle

Jasper was trying to read in bed, but he was having difficulty concentrating. He could hear his newest prisoner from the Ivory Tower ranting and raving from all the way across his sanctum. In the month previous, Baron Abrams had secretly managed to acquire Nelli's sire, Chaz Price. Chaz had then been placed in Jasper's possession for safekeeping until the Barons and the Prince and whoever else in charge of Kindred politics in California worked out their political arguments.

Chaz was currently calling Jasper every insult under the sun and moon, but Jasper was doing his best to ignore it. This had been going on more or less since he had woken Chaz up from his staked Torpor in his cage. He had heard it all before, from Tara, and from others. It was better to let Chaz get it all out of his system now. Jasper didn't know how long he was to keep him here. It had already been weeks. It could be months, it could be years. Jasper hoped it wouldn’t be decades.

Jasper put down his book, which was about famous ghosts from around Hollywood, and sighed. It wasn't Chaz's insults that were distracting him, not really. It was an odd feeling of loneliness. Before Chaz, his sanctum had been relatively quiet, save for the times when Annabelle had come over. Jasper reached down off the side of the bed furthest from the door and found the small plastic tea light candle he had hidden down there, out of sight behind one of the bed legs. He brought it up and flicked the little switch on the bottom to turn on the fake flame. It flickered dimly. The button battery that powered it was slowly dying.

He missed her, he realised. On a night like this, he might have called her to come over and hang out. They might have watched a movie. She might let him feed off her. He licked his fangs at the memories he had of biting into her flesh, of tasting her powerful Brujah Vitae, and of the sounds she made as the endorphins brought on by the Kiss clouded her brain and made her body react in rather interesting ways.

His phone buzzed with a text message. He looked at the screen. It was Annabelle, texting him privately, away from the group coterie chat. He smiled. She had been thinking of him too. Was it her emotions he was feeling, mixed with his own? Their Blood Bond had faded somewhat since their last encounter many weeks ago, but if Jasper concentrated, he could feel where Annabelle was in the city, and was sure that if she were in any great danger or emotional state, he would know about it.

“I had a dream about you yesterday,” Annabelle's message read.

Jasper dreamed about her all the time, but he hadn't ever told her about it. He wasn't surprised she had been dreaming about him too.

“What happened in it?” He inquired.

“You were feeding from me.”

Jasper smirked. He could envision Annabelle blushing while she was typing that.

“Where?” he asked, both meaning where on her body, and also a location for them both to be in. He had only ever fed from her in his sanctum, but with Chaz here under his secret lock and key, Annabelle wasn't allowed back in.

“Everywhere,” was Annabelle's reply. Jasper chuckled.

“Did you have a favourite place?” he asked. He wasn't usually this much of a texter, but he didn't want Chaz to hear him making any calls.

“Neck.” Again, Jasper could picture Annabelle blushing.

“Mine too,” he replied truthfully. He sighed a little to himself. His hunger was under control at the moment, thanks to the elder Toreador still cursing him out in his cage, but feeding from his prisoner and feeding from Annabelle were two totally different things. Annabelle wanted him to bite her. She enjoyed it almost as much as he did. Sometimes, he thought she enjoyed it more than him, especially when she used Blush of Life while he bit her. He hesitated a very long moment, before texting her again. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He blinked at her reply, not sure how to respond.

Annabelle didn't send him another message for a long time. He briefly thought that she might be done for the night, but he was wrong.

“Elle is going out of town this weekend to visit her parents,” Annabelle told him. “And Mark is still away.”

He waited without replying. Annabelle was typing another message, erasing it, and re-wording it. He knew what she was going to ask him, and was about to pre-emptively inquire about it when her message finally got through.

“Would you like to come over on Saturday?”

He did. He very much wanted to spend the weekend with her, at her place. They hadn't seen a lot of each other in a long time. He had also never been inside her house, and had to admit he was curious.

Still, there was something inside him that made him hesitate in his reply. It wasn't Chaz. Chaz could sit a few days on his own, and Jasper would make sure he fed him before he left.

No, it was something else, something more intimate. Jasper knew that if he did go, the weekend was likely to turn into another feeding date, and likely an extended one at that. He doubted either of them would be able to help themselves, strong though their willpower was. If Annabelle did let him bite her again, their Blood Bond would redevelop and strengthen. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it still made him a little nervous. There was ever growing tension between the Anarchs and the Camarilla these nights, and if, somehow, the Camarilla worked out that Jasper was holding Chaz captive, they could use Annabelle to get to him. He had already promised himself that any Kindred who hurt Annabelle would not last the night if Jasper were able to get to them. He also knew that Annabelle could definitely handle herself in a fight. But she was also still a Neonite, having been Kindred for less than a year, and the Camarilla was home to many very powerful vampires who could take her apart quite easily if they wanted to.

Jasper's phone buzzed again. Annabelle had sent him a single question mark, waiting for his reply.

It was dangerous, and he knew he shouldn’t, but damn it... he wanted to. He had already admitted that he missed her. It was already too late to deny his growing feelings, beyond just the bond with her blood.

“Yes, I would,” he texted her. “What time?”

He could picture her smiling, her pretty face lit up both with the light from her phone, and the joy and anticipation she got from his reply.

“11:00 Sat.” she replied.

“See you then,” Jasper promised.

Annabelle sent him a smiley face. He didn't return it, but he smiled physically.

Saturday night came and Jasper arrived completely unseen to Annabelle's door. He had taken every precaution he could think of to secure his haven and the prisoner inside it. He wanted to enjoy this weekend without having to worry, though it would always be on the back of his mind. He found that he wasn't as nervous about visiting Annabelle at her home as he thought he might be. His Beast was getting excited though. He could feel it in his chest and throat. He growled at it, closing his eyes and counting to ten. He hadn't lost control with Annabelle on one of their dates yet, and he wasn't about to.

He knocked, letting himself become visible as he interacted with the door. He pulled his hood down lower over his face, just in case someone from another house was watching. He didn't have long to wait. Annabelle flung the door open and greeted him happily.

“Jasper, hey!”

He smiled at her. “Hi.”

“Come in.” She beckoned him into the warm interior of the home and he stepped over the threshold. She closed the door behind them. He instantly found himself glancing around, taking in the space.

Annabelle led him through to a tiny living room. There was one bookshelf full of books, one full of DVDs and Blu-Rays and another full of CD's. Jasper found himself drawn to them. He tilted his head to read the covers and cases.

Annabelle watched him with a little amused smile. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know... “ he shrugged. “Same as ever.”

She gave him a flat look. “Don't be mysterious with me, Jasper.”

He gave her a little half smile. “I've been pretty good.”

“Yeah? Me too.”

There was something unsaid between them. It was easier, sometimes, to say things like “I've missed you” over text rather than out loud.

Jasper sat on a sofa. It was second hand, inexpensive student furniture, but he felt at home with that. In fact, a lot of Annabelle's place reminded him of his own, except she had a lot more stuff. Photos of Annabelle, Mark and Elleanore together, knick-knacks, Anime figures, even the odd stuffed animal were everywhere. The room was neat and cluttered at the same time. There was a framed Les Miserables poster on the wall that made him smile. There was also a lot of vampire media, mostly shoved into one corner. Books and DVDs and Blu-Rays about Dracula, Underworld, Anne Rice, and more. He shook his head a little when he saw that.

“How's your new... guest?” Annabelle asked.

“A pain in the ass,” Jasper said. “I was glad you invited me over.”

“You know... I still don't approve of all that,” she said with a frown.

“Yeah... I know, but when you change the world, I won't keep anyone in a cage ever again.”

Annabelle's jaw tightened a little and she searched his face for any sign he was making fun of her. She couldn’t see any. “Right. Well...” she sighed. “Would you like to finish watching Hellsing?”

They had left off part way through the second to last episode. Jasper grinned. “Yes, please.”

They sat next to each other on the sofa as they watched the OVA on Annabelle's small flat screen TV. Gradually, so gradually neither of them were aware of it, they got closer and closer to each other. Soon, they were touching hands, then a hand was on a knee. By the end of it, they were leaning against each other and neither of them minded. The epic religious choir music that played over the final end credits made Jasper smile. Annabelle noticed.

“What's that look for?” she asked him

“This music is awesome.”

“It is pretty cool,” she agreed. “This is your thing?”

“Oh yeah. It reminds me of O, Fortuna.”

Annabelle giggled. “You're such a dramatic goth.”

Jasper snorted and shrugged. “Well...”

“Don't you deny it!”

“I wasn't going to!” he said defensibly, but with a smile.

A quiet settled between them. Annabelle bit her lip and touched his hand. “Would you like a tour?”

“Sure,” Jasper said.

Annabelle got up and showed Jasper around. It didn't take long in the small house. Living room, kitchen, bath, laundry, bedrooms. The room Annabelle slept in felt so very much like her that Jasper couldn’t help but smile. Anime, band posters and little love notes from her partners decorated the walls. There were some clothes stacked on a chair by a desk covered in textbooks and old protest fliers. Her window had a large, thick blanket covering it, duck-taped securely to the wall with multiple layers. Jasper eyed this critically. Annabelle followed his gaze.

“Oh, that's very secure, don't worry,” she assured him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I mean, it hasn't fallen down yet. Just don't pull on it too hard.”

Jasper scowled, not reassured. He didn't feel like he should have to tell Annabelle how dangerous something like that could be.

“Jasper, it's okay,” Annabelle said again. “The blind is down on the other side. The blanket's just for extra security. Besides... I'm still here, aren't I?”

He licked his fangs, thinking this over. Annabelle swallowed.

“Okay,” he relented reluctantly.

“Um... besides, look at this!” Annabelle stepped towards her bed, which was quite a lot wider than Jasper's. “Look at how big my bed is,” she teased, waving her hands like a girl on The Price is Right. “It can fit two, sometimes three people in it!”

Jasper snickered. “Very impressive,” he admitted.

Annabelle sat on the bed, playfully bouncing a few times. Her smile was infectious. “I almost can't believe you're here,” she told him. “I almost can't picture you in a home like this.”

He shrugged and sat on the bed next to her. “Well... I was, sort of. A long time ago.” He sighed and looked around again, remembering.

Annabelle's smile faded. She hadn't meant to dig up sad, old memories of the life he had to leave behind, but she didn't. “Jasper, I'm sorry.”

His brow furrowed a little and he looked at her, his thoughts snapped out of whatever he had been remembering. “Why?”

“I feel sometimes like... maybe I'm a little insensitive to that fact that... I still kind of have my old life, a bit, and you don't. And I'm sorry. I don't mean to be insensitive.”

“It's okay,” he said quietly. “I know you don't mean to, but sometimes it is a little like... you know... check your privilege.” He smirked a little.

She smirked a little too.

He wanted to change the subject and, feeling bold, took her hand in his. “So... what else did you have planned for this weekend?” Jasper turned her hand over palm-up and ran a faint line over her wrist with his cold, pale thumb. He had bitten her there before and he was deliberately trying to remind her of that. It worked. He felt her shiver, just a tiny bit, and she swallowed again.

“Um... well...” her voice cracked. She cleared her throat. “I did think that we could... feed, if you wanted to.”

“I've missed someone giving me permission,” he admitted to her. “It makes me feel a little less horrible, sometimes.”

“Oh, Jasper...” Annabelle bit her lower lip, her heat breaking a little. “I don't think you're horrible.”

“I am a little though.” He knew there was no denying that, but he wasn't particularly sad about it. It was a fact.

“Well... not here, you're not,” Annabelle insisted. “Here, you have permission.”

He showed his fangs when he smiled. “Thank you.” He stroked her wrist again. He couldn’t feel her pulse, not yet, but he imagined it might be getting a little faster if it could.

“It's been a while,” Jasper said after a moment of silence. “Where would you... like me to begin?”

Again, Annabelle smiled like she would have turned scarlet. “Wherever you want,” she said quietly. He voice was a little breathy. Already, her body was reminding her of the experience to come. The bite – the Kiss – was a taboo pleasure that she couldn’t achieve with her boyfriend and girlfriend, although she had tried. Of course, sex with them was good. It always had been. But this... whatever she and Jasper had was something different, something more... well, the only thing Annabelle could think to describe it was vampiric. It felt wrong but oh, so very good at the same time.

For Jasper, it was the most intimate he had allowed himself to be with someone in five years. He did not count his other feedings from Kindred as being anything like this. With them, it had been a necessary thing, or so he told himself. Though he enjoyed the taste of terror and he enjoyed toying with Camarilla assholes, being with Annabelle and being willingly offered her blood was something he found himself enjoying far more.

“Neck?” Jasper asked.

Annabelle's free hand went to the collar of her T-shirt, which was much higher than that of the tank tops she had worn previously when he had bitten her throat. “I'll get blood on my shirt,” she mumbled.

“If you don't want blood on your shirt, take it off,” Jasper told her, surprising himself with the bold words. He was mildly surprised again when she did what he requested. He thought she might have said no, but she didn't. The shirt hit the bedroom floor. She wasn't wearing the lacy bra he had seen before, but he liked the way this one went with her skin tone. He found himself staring and looked away. He heard Annabelle chuckle.

“It's okay,” she said. She sounded nervous, but excited. “Are you okay?”

He looked at her again and swallowed. Was this not everything he wanted? He had repressed that side of him long ago due to the Nosferatu curse, but Annabelle was bringing it out in him again. She didn't care that he was a Nosferatu. She was happy to be with him. Jasper nodded. “It's just been a while,” he mumbled.

She scooted away, back onto the bed and gave him an inviting look. “It'll come back to you.”

He followed her up the bed and lay next to her. The extra space was nice, but he didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“You know...” he said, with a pause to touch his tongue to his fangs, “If someone had told me four or five years ago that this is where I would end up one day, I would have thought someone was playing a cruel joke on me.”

Annabelle smiled at him. “Lucky you then, I guess.”

Jasper chuckled. “Yeah.” He hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder, trailing his fingers up to her neck and Annabelle leaned into his touch. This made him feel bolder. It reminded him that he was wanted. His hand lingered over her pulse point and he blinked in amazement when he felt her activate Blush of Life. Like magic, her skin warmed and he could feel the quick but steady pulse in her neck. Annabelle sighed and fidgeted a little. His hand was deathly cold.

Jasper thought he should say something, but nothing was imminently coming to mind. He shifted, leaning over her a little. His fangs itched and his Beast growled. Her warm, inviting skin and the delicious Vitae under it were temptingly close. When he did open his mouth to speak, his voice was a snarl.

“May I?”

Annabelle shivered at the growl. Her skin erupted into goosebumps. Already, she was turned on. Her body remembered the pleasure he had brought her in the past. “Yes,” Annabelle breathed.

Slowly, as if to drag out every moment, Jasper slid his long, sharp fangs into her flesh. Again, he had gone for the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Annabelle let out a gasp and a whimper at the pain of it. Her body tensed and she found herself gripping a pillow. She could feel Jasper's tongue on her skin. He shifted again a little and she felt him place a hand on her opposite shoulder to the one he was biting and slowly trail it downwards over her body right as the ecstasy hit her.

Annabelle let out a long, soft moan of arousal as the pleasure slowly crawled across her body. Jasper's hand trailed down over her bra, over her breast, and settled on her ribs. He could taste the lust in her blood. He only wanted to take a little bit at the moment, just a sample. They had all weekend, after all. Annabelle trembled and squirmed beneath him. Her grip on the pillow tightened. She was biting back another moan or cry of pleasure. His Beast was almost purring inside him, listening to her heavy breathing and tasting her desire. It wanted more, it always wanted more, but Jasper had to hold back.

Annabelle sighed as he lifted his fangs away from her. She hadn't quite reached the climax her body had been heading towards, but she was shaking with the anticipation of it. She was about to say something, but she felt Jasper's cold tongue dip south of her collarbone and lick up a warm drop of Vitae that had begun to run slowly downwards. His hand found hers that had been clutching the pillow and, without saying anything, he brought it down to her crotch. She was wearing jeans, and she was aware of how restrictive they were currently feeling. Jasper pressed Annabelle's hand to the oh-so-sensitive area that was begging to be touched between her legs and give her neck wound another little suck.

Annabelle's body bucked with that blessed, cursed release she had been seeking. He kept her hand pressed to her jeans and his mouth on her neck to catch any more drips and to keep her climax going as long as it could. He could feel her fingers moving involuntarily against herself, trapped under his own. The scream Annabelle had been fighting back escaped through her clenched teeth.

Jasper tenderly licked her wound closed and drew back from her a little bit, including pulling his hand away from hers. Annabelle's body curled into a slight foetal position as she trembled in the aftershocks. He could her her cursing to herself under her breath. Jasper stroked her arm, smiling to himself. That had been a spur of the moment idea, but he liked the results.

Annabelle's face was bright red when she looked at him. He tried and failed to look innocent.

“What?” he asked.

Annabelle clenched her jaw, but smiled at him. “You... that...”

“Yes?”

She playfully punched his chest. He fell back onto the bed in mock pain. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. She snuggled up to him and he put an arm around her near naked torso.

“I still don't know what that was for,” he chided.

“Yeah, you do.” Her pulse was still slightly fast. Her hips squirmed a little.

“How are you feeling?” He knew the answer, but wanted her to say it.

“Good,” Annabelle sighed in contentment. “You have a way of making me feel so good...”

He stroked her shoulder in little circles. His white fingers contrasted dramatically with her skin tone. “Not too hungry?”

“I'm alright.”

“Good.”

“That... thing you were talking about a while ago...” Annabelle said, “where you feel my emotions... that's still a thing, right?”

“Yeah, that's still a thing,” he said softly, still stroking her shoulder. He could feel them now, the bond newly refreshed after having faded somewhat the past several weeks.

“What am I feeling now?”

“Happy,” Jasper smirked. “And you're still a little surprised at yourself because you never thought that this would happen.” He gestured to the two of them, snuggling on Annabelle's bed. “I feel the same way.”

He heard Annabelle exhale as she smiled. Her body was so warm against his. Part of him loved it. Another part of him was reminded how repulsive his body must be in comparison to hers. He tried to ignore that.

“Is there a name for that... feeling emotions thing?” Annabelle asked.

“I think it's a Blood Bond.” Jasper replied.

“Oh... that sounds kind of nice.”

“Mmm... but it isn't always.”

She tilted her face to give him a curious look.

Jasper considered for a few seconds how to explain it. “You know about ghouls?”

She frowned but nodded. “Yeah...”

“What are they?” He knew, but was testing her.

“They're people who have drunk vampire blood and become slaves. It sounds awful,” Annabelle said.

“It can be, but it can be useful for the vampire, especially if they have few morals about ordering people around and removing their free will. So... if that's what happens when a human drinks vampire blood, what do you think happens if another Kindred does it, beyond the feeling emotions thing?”

“Do... they become a slave as well?” Annabelle asked, mild horror creeping into her voice and in her expression.

“That can happen,” Jasper said gently, honestly. He sighed. “You giving your blood to me... gives you power over me, potentially, especially because we've done it so often, and because we've almost always done it right from the source, as it were.”

“So... I could give you an order right now... and you'd have to obey it?” Annabelle looked slightly terrified.

Jasper nodded.

“Oh, my God...” Annabelle said slowly. She hugged him a little tighter. “I would never, ever do that to you.”

“I know,” he said softly.

“Ever,” Annabelle insisted. The idea of taking away his free will chilled her.

“I know,” he repeated. “I trust you, Annabelle. You're one of the very few Kindred whom I trust, because I know that you'd never make me do anything against my will...” He sighed again. “Unlike some others I could mention,” he growled to himself.

“What? When? Who?”

“Do you recall me doing anything that seemed a little wild and out of character several months ago? Maybe something a little wacky in front of a big crowd?” Jasper sounded annoyed at the memory.

Annabelle gasped as it hit her. “The Succubus Club?”

Jasper growled and nodded.

“The dancing?”

“That was Victoria Ashe,” he said, his voice several degrees rougher in anger. “She made me do that.”

“But... you looked...”

“Like I was enjoying it? Yeah, because at the time, I was. I was lucky that she didn't order me to do something really horrific. If she had told me to try to kill you, I probably would have.”

Annabelle tensed in anger. “That... woman!” She had her own growl now. “And Nelli was all buddy-buddy with her!”

“Toreadors are like that. They have a certain way of making people love them, and want to do what they ask. It's like when Victor orders people to forget things, and they do. It's how they operate. Don't be mad at Nelli... or do, I don't care.”

“I'm sorry I laughed at you, and applauded,” Annabelle said, remembering her reactions to seeing him moonwalk on that dance floor.

“It's okay.”

“Is that a Blood Bond? Did she...” Annabelle didn't want to finish the question.

“No,” Jasper assured her, and he sounded grateful. “No, she didn't give me her blood.” He stroked her arm and her side, trying to soothe her a little. He could tell she was getting riled up, that her inner rebel wanting to put the boot into the rich elite was emerging. There was a time and a place for that, which was not here and now.

“I'd stake her so hard if I could,” Annabelle mumbled into Jasper's lean chest. He smiled.

“You do that, Annabelle. If you ever see her again, you do that.”

“Damn right, I will.”

They were quiet for a few moments, with Jasper gently stroking her smooth skin. She was still warm. It could last a long while, if she wanted it to. “You know... going back to the Blood Bond thing...” Jasper said quietly. “The way you and I have been doing it, letting me bite you... it would be very frowned upon by most Kindred society.” He grinned. “We've been very naughty, you and I.”

Annabelle snorted. She didn't have a very high opinion of what most Kindred society thought. “You mean they don't do it like this?”

“No. Going right from the vein is a little taboo.” He drifted a hand up to her neck and she wriggled a little.

“How do they do it then?”

“Cutting, apparently. Dripping blood into mouths, that kind of thing.” Annabelle could feel him shrug a little.

“Like at the end of Hellsing?”

“Yeah.”

Annabelle's brow furrowed. She found herself playing with a buckle on his chest. She didn't know where he had found hoodies with buckles. “How do you know that?”

“I asked Eva.”

Annabelle's frown deepened. “Did you tell her about us?”

“No. I just asked her about the details of how Blood Bonding works. If she suspects anything, it's because... well, the Tremere have many mysterious ways of finding things out.” He caught himself smiling at that. He had a certain admiration for the Tremere.

Annabelle relaxed a little. She didn't mind Eva, despite any magic she had done on her in the past. She was mysterious, but seemed to be in Jasper's favour. “Oh. Okay.”

They were quiet again, comfortably cuddling. Everything Jasper had just told Annabelle about Blood Bonds was turning around and around in her mind. It gave her a degree of anxiety, but she believed the fact that Jasper trusted her so sincerely was an honour.

“Jasper?” She asked softly.

“Yes?”

“Do you... mind being Blood Bonded to me?”

He gave her a comforting little squeeze. “No.”

“Are you sure? That's not just my magic Vitae talking, is it?”

Jasper chuckled. “Yes, I'm sure. If I did mind... we wouldn't have had another date after that time when I was hit by a truck.”

“Oh.” She remembered the evening he was referencing well. She had been so very worried about him when she found out, and that worry had turned into terror when he didn't answer her calls or texts. Despite his efforts of healing, he had still been extremely badly hurt when she finally found him, and Annabelle was happy she found him when she did. The potential consequences of what could have happened if she hadn't were too scary to consider. She also wished she had been there to have prevented the incidence from happening in the first place. That night was the first time she had let Jasper feed from her neck. Every other time before that had been from her wrist. It was a big move, she knew, but she wanted it. It felt better to her, somehow. They had shared his bed for the first time afterwards. “Was that when the... Bond happened?”

“I think so, yeah,” Jasper said.

“Ah.”

“Yeah,” Jasper sighed.

“But it doesn't have to be a bad thing?” Annabelle confirmed. “The Blood Bond?”

Jasper shook his head. “No, it doesn't. Don't worry about me if I mind it or not. If I ever do want to... I can just keep away from you for a little while and that'll weaken it.”

“Oh, that's why I haven't seen you in a long time!”

“Yeah. That and... ya know... my guest.” Jasper smiled sharply.

“Uh-huh.”

“But there is a silver lining, of sorts,” Jasper explained. “If you are in trouble, and need me, I will feel it. You can summon me, wish I was there, and I'll feel it and come to you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Now... you can see how another Kindred might abuse that power...” he paused to let Annabelle picture it, “but I trust you to not abuse it.” He gave the top of her head a little nuzzle.

“Right. I get it.” She smiled. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Jasper.”

“Thank you for letting me feed from you,” he replied.

“You're welcome.”

They spent the rest of the night chatting and watching bad reality TV on Annabelle's computer. When the sun rose and they felt the need to retire, they fell asleep spooning on Annabelle's large bed. The city of Los Angeles moved on around them, but they were content and dead to the world.

#la by night #l.a. by night #vampire the masquerade #fanfic #fanfiction #jasper/annabelle #blood bond #times jasper fed from annabelle

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missjackil · 7 years

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Let’s Talk About This....

One of the things I loved most about Season 12, was the drama between Mary and the boys. I know many of you found it annoying, but I was highly impressed. It wasn’t written as “Oh look Mom is back, lets be nice little family” or “Oh crap mom is back and she’s a zombie!” No, instead, there was a very realistic story around it, and the writers didn’t pick an easy one. Nothing about the story, really went the way I thought it would, and I am so glad that as much as I watch this show, the writers can still surprise me. Now, Im not all about Mary hate, and I dont hate Sam Smith as an actor, but IMO she isnt nearly as good an actor as J2 are so scenes with her came off a little lobsided, but all that aside, I think the story arch was believable and well written. Continue below the cut

My first thought was that if they didn’t make her a monster or evil, that she would be the third wheel (yuck) and favor Dean over Sam because they already established a relationship and Sam was just a baby when she died. I figured the story would develop that Sam felt left out, and early on, it almost looked like they were going that route. In The Foundry, we saw Mary and Dean sharing similarities, with the bacon and beef jerky, and putting Sam in the back seat (which hurt my soul) and cranking the radio when he wanted it turned down. A little later in the episode, Mary stands between them, when theyre posing as FEDs, and of course to me, this made me clench my teeth. “Do NOT come between my bros!!!!” I’m not alone in that thought am I? Then much to my surprise, at the end, she wants to leave them! And really, for an understandable reason. This is something that could very likely happen in real life, if an estranged mother unexpectedly meets her adult children. Sure she may love them, but it could be very hard to wrap her head around that these men are the little children she remembers. Now, from this point on, she seems more drawn to Sam. Not that she doesn’t love Dean, but maybe in part due to his understanding that she needs space, and maybe in part out of sheer curiosity of a son she really doesn’t know at all. They had never even had a conversation (to her recollection) before this point. She has no idea what kind of personality he has, and also knows that nothing about him, has anything to do with how she raised him. She has never spent a birthday or Thanksgiving or Christmas with him. He is a complete stranger, and yet, he’s very warm and understanding. And let’s not forget that she knows exactly why his life is a nightmare, and it’s from her own doing, and yet, he’s never even brought it up. Now, I know many of you believe Sam doesn’t know she made a demon deal that caused Azazel to visit and start the firey chain reaction of his life, but I have always believed he does, and It SEEMS like thats the way the show is playing it, since it’s never come out that Sam DOESNT know, and there have been more than enough places that it should have been mentioned. Like when Mary told Dean she didnt know how to face Sam or what to say, because she started everything. or “Im scared, what if he (Sam) cant forgive me?” Dean didn’t say “Well Sam doesn’t know” he just didn’t say anything. However, they did leave it open ended, not confirming that he knows, so it still could go that way. It would just seem weird that it’s never been said that he doesnt know, making everyone anticipate that revelation. For argument’s sake right now, lets say Sam doesn’t know. I’ll ask, if we should think he wouldn’t forgive her quickly? I can’t picture him lashing out, unless he found out right after something traumatic had happened. Not everyday trauma, but big, like getting possessed by Lucifer again, or somehow his powers just killed or nearly killed Dean. During S12 nothing really happened that would have opened that scar to a fresh wound. In the past few seasons, Sam has been strong and more confident in himself, and much more accepting of his life, so if he were to find out now, he’d just be shocked and hurt for a little bit, and be forgiving soon after. My next surprise came while watching Sam and Dean reacting to their mother betraying them, The brothers have been betrayed by nearly everyone they know at some point, or hurt in some way, but this is their mother. Their reactions are a lot different than if it had been an enemy, a friend, or even each other. They had to be hurt and disappointed in someone they weren’t gonna kill or hit. Even when they have hurt each other, they could yell and scream and beat the crap out of each other, but this is MOM! The gifs above represent, such a wonderful acting scene for J2. We have seen them fight with their Dad in s1, and we wouldnt have been surprised if punches got thrown, so the anger was a lot louder and potentially physical. Here though, they’re holding back. Both brothers express broken hearts so clearly in their facial expressions. They havent had a time before this, that they have been hurt so deeply by a woman they both love. They’re both holding back tears so hard it shattered my heart for them both. However, they didn’t cowar and hang their heads in shame while she tried to justify her actions, that she is “Not JUST a Mother” when she hadnt even tried to be a Mom to them yet. But my boys made damn sure she knew you don’t f*ck with them and walk away scott free. Maybe you’re in a safe zone where they wont punch you physically, but they’ll make you wish they did. Dean rabid punched her in her heart with his words. He was glad she got to be haunted by Wally dying during the lake house hunt, that she felt guilty telling his wife. He made sure she knew everything he and Sam were feeling, and took away her place as their mother by calling her Mary. When she was metaphorically bleeding on the ground, Sam drew the kill shot. He doesn’t argue with her, he doesn’t cut her down, thats been done, he just delivers the last thing that anyone who loves Sam Winchester in the slightest, ever wants to hear... “You should go”. What she had before all this, her sons and somewhere she could call home, Sam and Dean took them both away from her, because she squandered them. I was speechless. Now, if there was ever any wonder, who could get away with what when dealing with these brothers, it got answered. If you’re on the good side of Sam and Dean, you have the best protection and friends you could ask for, but nobody is safe if they cross them. And sure, they take abuse by people/monsters all the time and dust it off, but they have their limits, even with blood family. Look at these gifs and see their faces. These men have both lived through decades of Hell. Lost eachother several times. Been tortured, beaten, shot, stabbed, and tormented by the most evil creatures ever created, but this woman, their own Mother, inflicted more pain than any of them. Both Jared and Jensen deserve Emmys for conveying that so clearly. Now, the guys undoubtedly fester with this for a while, but in typical Sam and Dean fashion, they cant just walk away. Sam ventures back first, but Dean isnt far behind when he hears Mom might be in danger. They dont talk about it anymore till the end. Dean is pretty open about his feelings, though he will tell you he isn’t. Sam is the oposite, he thinks he’s open and he really isnt. When Dean gets into Mary’s head in 12x22, he lays it all out to her, he tells her what she doesn’t know about him, and how her actions ruined, not only his, but Sam’s life as well. Why did he speak for Sam? Because Sam wont. Not because Sam is weak, but because Sam doesn’t want attention drawn to his issues. He’s an “other people have got it worse” kind of guy. When Dean tells Mary that he hates her, and that he loves her, and forgives her, you know, he really forgave her. She had to know she is truly loved and forgiven. Then she worries about Sam, and maybe he can’t forgive her. With the same style, with so few words, that knocked her out not long ago, he gives only a few words to pick her back up. “You dont have to be scared of me” (ugggh my heart!) If you didn’t like this story arch, I ask that you just watch it again and see how much time and effort were spent on Sam and Dean’s reactions to everything, and maybe give a new appreciation to how well it was written, and even better acted.

#supernatural #sam dean and mary #sam winchester #dean winchester #mary winchester #my meta

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apsbicepstraining · 6 years

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TLC:’ I will never forget the day we were millionaires for five minutes’

On the comeback trail, the 90 s megastars reflect on bankruptcy, diverting down Britney and what Lisa Left Eye Lopes would be like on Twitter

TLC are in the back of an Uber XL in the middle of Londons Oxford Circus, sunshine streaming through the windows, with a hottie standing in full view at the crossing. Jesus! Did you look at this guy? Lord have mercy. Why didnt you get his ass on camera? He is byoo-tee-full . Traffic and exchange is gridlocked; Chilli craves her bandmate T-Boz, their cameraman, makeup artist, press officer, the operator and me to acknowledge the drop-dead sumptuous specimen, beefy in muscle and hyper-groomed of look, outside the window.

Look, hey, I desire somewhat guys, but come near now, you are able to grant it up. Tell the truth.

I shrug, ambivalent, and “re just telling me” hes not my category. T-Boz, who has spent the last few minutes scratching her knuckles reminiscing about the fights she used to get into, constricts her attentions. What ?! she says. What is your character? Why dont you tell us what your category is? Even if hes not your kind, you have to say hes cute. Hes not my category, either, but I can see hes good examining. The whole parcel was working for him: the “hairs-breadth”, the muscles What is your category?

The brightness change and the two laughter, a conspiratorial chuckle that follows often of their converse over the next 24 hours. TLC making a respectable comeback in 2017 is, its fair to say, sudden. Despite insisting that theyve been working solidly behind the scenes the whole time touring internationally, writing movie dialogues, setting up a fitness blog the group vanished from public consciousness sometime in the early 00 s.

Watch the video for Way Back.

Collectively though, the three twentysomething dames from Atlanta, Georgia Tionne T-Boz Watkins, Rozonda Chilli Thomas and Lisa Left Eye Lopes owned the 90 s: their brand of sultry R& B, silky enough to woo the masses but glitchy enough to keep them interesting, has constructed them the most successful US girl group of all time. Their two biggest books, CrazySexyCool( 1994) and Fanmail( 1999 ), sold more than 20 m mimics between them, with other singles and albums helping to rack up a total sales pull of around 65 m worldwide.

Thats a behemothic rank of success that was felled first by the bands bankruptcy in 1995, then by the tragic deaths among Lopes, at 30, in 2002.

I slept a lot, says Thomas of that time. When youre depressed and you sleep a lot I did that and stayed in my area. I didnt watch Tv and I certainly didnt listen to radio or used to go because everywhere wed disappear, someone would have something to say.

And theyd be smiling, more, microchips in Watkins, and then be like, Oh, Im so sorry, and then immediately, Can I have your autograph?

The two seemed hounded by the press, the public and their description. People are ghouls, says Watkins. I went words at my home 2 day after Lisa croaked, like, What are you going to do? and, Heres my demo, take a listen. But Lopes, who perished in road accidents on holiday in Honduras that April, was irreplaceable. TLC was ever a vehicle for a producer or a managers brand-new sound opening a revolving door for a new third member like, say, Destinys Child or the Sugababes was not an option.

They are much clearer than anybody else on what is and isnt TLC, their description boss, LA Reid, told Rolling Stone in 1995. They make it clearly articulated to the writers and creators on their projects what they will and will not sing. And because of that, theyll ever be a little onward. The radical turned away major songs, including Hit Me Baby One More Time( Its a great hymn but not every hit is for you. I couldnt hear us on that enter, says Thomas, diplomatically ).

We already did baby babe newborn, says Watkins, caressing her teeth.

Sister ordinance … ( left to right) Tionne T-Boz Watkins, Lisa Left-Eye Lopes and Rozonda Chilli Thomas in the Netherlands in 1992. Photo: Michel Linssen/ Redferns

TLCs distinct din stands written about and referenced by music blogs. And it still influences modern dad( accompany 2017 s biggest-selling single in the UK, Ed Sheerans Shape of You ). The radical characterized themselves by their three distinct identities: crazy, sex, refrigerate. Seven months after Lopes died, their fourth and least successful book, 3D, was secreted. We were upset, that was the label, says Watkins, of the book coming out. I guess their mourning stagecoach for us was a week, we werent recalling straight-from-the-shoulder or in a right frame of mind to be making decisions.

That first couple of years you think you were all right or at least better, and then you have a dreaming or something and youre messed up all over again, lends Thomas. It just really took is high time to heal.

Fifteen times on and in their late 40 s, the pair didnt think that they would be playing their first ever London gig. Mays lonely time at Koko in Camden Town sold out in a daytime, to an horde of followers singing and sweating on its sticky floorboards. We havent had bad concerts where weve been booed, but that was hard to believe, says Watkins, when we gratifies the next night in a salmon pink hotel suite. To come here and have beings singing TLC. It manufactures the adrenaline flow. Were always nervous before we go on stage, says Thomas, but I was exceptionally apprehensive this time. It didnt settle till I started doing it.

That the evidence was a triumph only follows TLCs made-for-TV-movie trajectory. Backing dancers in amber lame outfits, a truth choir, and thumped after reached opening with Diggin On Youand purposing with No Scrubs heightened it beyond the hurry of pop nostalgia. That said, new single Way Back, which boasts a Snoop Dogg verse where Lopes might have been, is pure 90 s street feeling throwback, but the pair affirm that theyre not attaches great importance to continuing trend, because, says Watkins, our music will always be relevant.

Hit girlfriends … TLC in Hollywood, 1999. Photo: Ron Davis/ Getty Images

What do you signify by throwback? questions Thomas.

Its inarguable that the two have worked hard to retain the essence of what reached them so massive in the first place: from the live creation down to Thomass still terrifyingly well-maintained washboard belly, they appear and sound as if theyve escaped a season capsule.

Some beings may say, Oh. you have the same haircut, says Watkins her angled blond bob gash as aggressively as she is. But first of all, second of all, and third of all: when you get the various kinds of iconic haircut that beings emulate, “youre calling” me. Its signature. Its true-blue: alongside The Rachel, Watkinss was the more popular haircut for gobby schoolgirls in the 90s. A slew of faux-bickering and tutting between the two follows as they debate the flaws of contemporary creators who, according to TLC, have no appreciation of performance, showmanship or style.

Celebrity changed, but what stays out to me is the altered in media, says Thomas. If Twitter was around when we were were out, Lisa would have “the worlds largest” adherents for sure. And maybe been in the most disturb, more? Oh my God, she would have been closed down multiple times.

Same with Instagram, says Watkins. If Instagram was taken away tomorrow there would be a lot of parties jobless right now cos theres a lot of public figure now made up of Instagram frameworks. She is unimpressed by influencers monetising their lifestyles online, but tries to hold back. Im not gonna knock your hubbub. Hustle on, girlfriend. “Its time” that hos are triumphing. An affirmative block-caps YEAH! comes from Thomas. But if you gonna be a ho, at the least sounds like a good ho and have to pay, Watkins continues. Ho-ism is working for people. Worst situation is to be a ho, spread your trash far and near and get nothing from it.

No scrubbing please, were TLC … Chilli ( left) and T-Boz. Image: Linda Nylind/ The Guide

Watkins wont be drawn on who she might be alluding to, but its still a surprise to hear her or Thomas claim a moral high ground over other women. TLC endorse female sexuality in their hymns and styling, and were early advocates of safe-sex campaigns( Lopes would even wear a condom on the left see of her glass ). Hitherto, says Watkins, she was offered $50,000 to stay a male fan and his wife at home So they could just stare at me amply clothed for five minutes , nothing else and she refused.

Chilli is scandalized. Fifty thousand! To bring kindnes and gaiety into that relationship, whats wrong with that ?! My husband at that time didnt crave me travelling, declares Watkins. He didnt have to know! squeal Thomas.

Both are single right now. Thomas has a son with TLCs ex-producer Dallas Austin, and Watkins is divorced with a son and teenage daughter. I wouldnt want to meet anyone right now, says Watkins. I do not want a mortal. If God slaps me in the are dealing with a good one, fine, but right now, I dont want to listen to your daytime, I dont want to care about your problems. I wouldnt be a good girlfriend right now; I dont want to have sex with nobody.

Oh, you poverty-stricken girlfriend! You good good girlfriend, says Thomas, cooing at Watkinss vagina.

Shell be all right, says Watkins, side-eyeing Thomas with a cat-like grin.

The pair live in different metropolitans now; Watkins is in Los Angeles, having precisely moved out of the neighbourhood the Kardashians live in, and Thomas has stayed in Atlanta, but they still finish each others sentences and slip into shorthand. You start off with so many friends, shows Watkins, but as you get older, you only need one or two. Im not open to just letting people into my life, I involve an asset not a liability.

Class behave … TLC announce a $25,000 Aids education scholarship in recall of Lisa Lopes at the 2002 MTV Awards. Picture: Kevin Kane/ WireImage

To their ascribe, the two ought to have categorically burned by the industry. To go bankrupt at the top of their honour and success still stings. I will never forget the day we were millionaires for literally five minutes, says Watkins. Because the cheque was written to us and we had to sign it over, back to[ Pebbles, their former administrator ]. But we wont get into that since were still in a lawsuit.

If I could go back, I are certainly change a couple of things business-wise, says Thomas. I have learned the hard way: signal your own cheques, make sure your taxes are in shape and whatever your firm is, its always good to get wise examined. If you dont have anything to hide, its not a worry.

Its not personal, contributes Watkins, hard as nails, its business. Everyone in this industry has only one plan. Auditors, lawyers, beings you think you know will keep running up the greenback. You have to watch your back on every corner.

Worse than the money was, of course, the loss of Lopes , that are actually dissolved that first, fantastical operate. The three had weathered everything together the backstabbing, the bankruptcy, the tabloid awarenes of Lopes igniting down the mansion of her then-football star boyfriend. Lisa was a starter. I dont start substance, I dont believes in disagreeing with people I dont know, says Watkins. I have a hard exterior, Im scary.

She was more intrepid, says Thomas. Im a friendly party but if I find out youre not cool, I get real cold.And, chortles Watkins, with Lisa, it depended on the working day. She was a Gemini, so she was about seven different beings. Neither Watkins or Thomas booze( Weve done this industry sober; were real clear about exactly what we doing ), though Lopes did and the three, tight because they are, were known to scrap often publicly. Gazing back, would they have done anything differently? Coulda, woulda, shoulda, says Watkins, her expression at its most slow and sleepy-eyed. It became us who we are, so at the end of the day, I just recollect Lisa as person or persons, a human being. I miss everything.

TLC by TLC is out on 30 June

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apsbicepstraining · 6 years

Text

TLC:’ I will never forget the day we were millionaires for five minutes’

On the comeback trail, the 90 s megastars reflect on bankruptcy, diverting down Britney and what Lisa Left Eye Lopes would be like on Twitter

Look, hey, I desire somewhat guys, but come near now, you are able to grant it up. Tell the truth.

Watch the video for Way Back.

Thats a behemothic rank of success that was felled first by the bands bankruptcy in 1995, then by the tragic deaths among Lopes, at 30, in 2002.

And theyd be smiling, more, microchips in Watkins, and then be like, Oh, Im so sorry, and then immediately, Can I have your autograph?

We already did baby babe newborn, says Watkins, caressing her teeth.

Sister ordinance … ( left to right) Tionne T-Boz Watkins, Lisa Left-Eye Lopes and Rozonda Chilli Thomas in the Netherlands in 1992. Photo: Michel Linssen/ Redferns

Hit girlfriends … TLC in Hollywood, 1999. Photo: Ron Davis/ Getty Images

What do you signify by throwback? questions Thomas.

No scrubbing please, were TLC … Chilli ( left) and T-Boz. Image: Linda Nylind/ The Guide

Oh, you poverty-stricken girlfriend! You good good girlfriend, says Thomas, cooing at Watkinss vagina.

Shell be all right, says Watkins, side-eyeing Thomas with a cat-like grin.

Class behave … TLC announce a $25,000 Aids education scholarship in recall of Lisa Lopes at the 2002 MTV Awards. Picture: Kevin Kane/ WireImage

TLC by TLC is out on 30 June

The post TLC:’ I will never forget the day we were millionaires for five minutes’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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apsbicepstraining · 6 years

Text

TLC:’ I will never forget the day we were millionaires for five minutes’

On the comeback trail, the 90 s megastars reflect on bankruptcy, diverting down Britney and what Lisa Left Eye Lopes would be like on Twitter

Look, hey, I desire somewhat guys, but come near now, you are able to grant it up. Tell the truth.

Watch the video for Way Back.

Thats a behemothic rank of success that was felled first by the bands bankruptcy in 1995, then by the tragic deaths among Lopes, at 30, in 2002.

And theyd be smiling, more, microchips in Watkins, and then be like, Oh, Im so sorry, and then immediately, Can I have your autograph?

We already did baby babe newborn, says Watkins, caressing her teeth.

Sister ordinance … ( left to right) Tionne T-Boz Watkins, Lisa Left-Eye Lopes and Rozonda Chilli Thomas in the Netherlands in 1992. Photo: Michel Linssen/ Redferns

Hit girlfriends … TLC in Hollywood, 1999. Photo: Ron Davis/ Getty Images

What do you signify by throwback? questions Thomas.

No scrubbing please, were TLC … Chilli ( left) and T-Boz. Image: Linda Nylind/ The Guide

Oh, you poverty-stricken girlfriend! You good good girlfriend, says Thomas, cooing at Watkinss vagina.

Shell be all right, says Watkins, side-eyeing Thomas with a cat-like grin.

Class behave … TLC announce a $25,000 Aids education scholarship in recall of Lisa Lopes at the 2002 MTV Awards. Picture: Kevin Kane/ WireImage

TLC by TLC is out on 30 June

The post TLC:’ I will never forget the day we were millionaires for five minutes’ appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

from WordPress http://ift.tt/2zAgmpS via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes