Remind Me To Come Up With The Logistics Later But Rn Tentative Idea For A R.esident E.vil Au:

remind me to come up with the logistics later but rn tentative idea for a r.esident e.vil au:

jordan takes a semester off from rothfield following the massacre. she needs to get her head right, and figure out what her next steps are gonna be.

at the end of august, she makes arrangements to go visit her aunt, natalia martinez, who is a homicide detective within the raccoon police department, for the end of september. she wants to check out the city and see if maybe it’s enough distance from home and from rothfield to be her new, fresh start.

she’s in the city for a calm few days before all hell breaks loose; by the time sept. 28 rolls around, she’s one of a handful of civilians still alive and is now trying to fight her way out of raccoon city

further elaboration to come but i needed to put this down before i forgot

maybe  like  this  for  a  lyric  /  quote  starter

yearning   rp   meme.

when   you’re   in   love   and   can’t   admit   it.

i want you to be happy.

you can’t get rid of me that easy.

i care about you. a lot.

you’re my best friend. you always have been.

we can share the bed. if that’s not weird.

what are we?

what am i to you?

have you ever been in love?

it reminded me of you.

i think about you all the time.

you matter to me. more than anyone else.

can you believe they thought we were a couple?

imagine if we really did like each other that way, huh.

are you… jealous?

i didn’t mean it like that.

i’ll always be here for you.

you always know how to make me smile.

you’ll always be safe with me.

always.

i sleep better when you’re around.

you awake?

i trust you.

i feel calmer when i’m with you.

stay.

don’t go.

it’s okay. i’ve got you.

it wouldn’t be the same without you.

wait, let me fix it for you.

i’m glad you’re here.

sorry for calling you so late.

i couldn’t sleep.

i didn’t think you’d pick up.

can we be alone for a bit?

stay with me tonight?

me:  writes  one  thing me:  okay  time  for  RE2

she’s  always  the  voice  of  reason.  even  when  no  one  wants  her  to  be.  even  when  it  isn’t  asked  for.  pragmatism  came  easy  once  she  started  piecing  herself  back  together      —      post-victimhood,  post-cobra  kai,  post-karate  war  adjacent.  everyone  else  actively  engaging  in  the  fight  for  control  of  the  valley  has  blinders  on,  and  from  her  position  as  an  outsider  who  was  once  in  it,  the  full  picture  is  a  hideous  one,  painted  with  harsh  strokes  and  sharp  lines  that  seem  to  keep  being  crossed  over  and  over  and  over      —      an  endless,  almost  rhythmic  repetition.  it’s  something  she’s  kept  to  herself,  up  to  this  moment,  in  this  hallway,  books  clutched  loosely  to  her  chest  as  she  extends  an  olive  branch  to  someone  she  was  so  close  to  a  year  ago.

the  fire  is  expected;  she  was  in  cobra  kai  long  enough  to  know  that  no  one  questions  the  wisdom  and  authority  of  whatever  sensei  is  in  charge  without  facing  a  certain  level  of  untamed  wrath.  feet  remain  firmly  planted  on  tiled  floor,  eyes  locked  on  his  as  the  first  blow  is  dealt.  it  stings      —      and  what’s  worse,  she  expected  it.          ❛  strange      —  I  remember  you  doing  the  same.  ❜          such  a  contrast,  his  voice  raised  and  raging,  and  hers,  soft,  serious.  if  he’s  the  hurricane,  she’s  the  mountain  that  refuses  to  bend;  she’s  weathered  worse  storms,  she’ll  make  it  through  this  one  mostly  unscathed.

❛  I  didn’t  know  silver  let  you  climb  through  his  window  in  the  middle  of  the  night  after  you  got  a  black  eye  and  a  busted  lip  and  let  you  crash  in  his  room.  ❜          it’s  her  turn  to  take  a  step  forward,  invade  the  personal  space,  though  her  heart  beats  faster  as  she  does  so.          ❛  what  needs  to  be  done?  what,  fighting  out  some  fucked  up  generational  trauma  between  a  bunch  of  grown  men?  ❜          for  someone  appearing  so  sure  of  herself,  there’s  an  uncertainty  creeping  in.  this  closeness,  under  these  circumstances,  triggers  that  voice  in  the  back  of  her  head.  he’s  going  to  hurt  you.  no,  no      —      jordan  knows  him  better  than  that.  knows  this  is  all  just  a  front.  knows  that  he’s  looking  for  an  out      —

seven  words  carry  not  a  punch,  not  a  kick,  but  a  stab  to  the  gut.  she  holds  her  composure  well  but  she’s  certain  he  sees  that  flash  of  fear  in  her  eyes  as  the  weight  of  everything  hits  her;      he  knows  too  much,  and  with  a  certain  sensei’s  claws  sunk  deep  into  him,  he  knows  how  to  use  it  against  her      —      cruelly.  effectively.  

hand  at  her  side  balls  into  a  fist,  nails  digging  into  the  soft  flesh  of  her  palm.  the  sting  keeps  her  grounded  in  reality,  rooted  in  the  moment,  pulling  her  back  from  striking  him  hard  across  the  jaw.  at  this  proximity,  with  the  rings  on  her  fingers,  she  could  do  some  solid  damage.  but  that’s  the  cobra  within  her,  and  she’s  quick  to  kick  that  urge  away,  using  her  words  instead.

❛  don’t  you  ever  speak  to  me  again.  ❜          low,  even  tone,  eerily  calm  for  someone  who  is  reeling  past  the  point  of  keeping  composure.  she  wants  to  swing,  to  scream,  to  hurl  a  few  of  her  own  meticulously  crafted  threats  while  following  through  with  the  physical  ones,  but  she’s  not  giving  him      —      not  giving  that  god-forsaken  dojo      —      the  satisfaction.          ❛  you’re  dead  to  me.  ❜

jordan riley  ,  you already are something. you always were. and you still have time to be.

                  ‘bullshit! ’ single word reverberates loudly off of the walls, down the hall until it fades, but the anger behind it lingers between them. john bender has never been someone. all of the adults, all of his peers, they’ve taken every opportunity to tell him so. he would never make it anywhere, let alone out of high school. they said he’d be flipping burgers, dealing drugs ; he’d be just like his father ( no one knows that that’s his biggest fear ). fire filled eyes move toward jordan. where once softness lingered, fury burned instead. he knows he’s going to say something he’ll regret, but he can’t close his mouth.

‘ you think you know me so well, just ‘cause i held your hand and let you whine about your problems? ’ his voice is too loud, his tone too intense. a boy who has never porperly learned to contain or control his emotions, ready to explode. ‘ you don’t know shit, shakespeare. you can go ahead and stay in your own fuckin’ fantasy world and pretend like peace is the answer. i’m doin’ what needs to be done, ’ fighting for himself and his team and some kind of honor that he would never get anywhere else. his breathing his shallow, john barely blinking as he stands in front of jordan. ‘ silver’s th’only person who’s ever given a shit about me. so i suggest you stay away from me and cobra kai, ’ and the next words are ones john would come to hate himself for. ‘ or else you’re gonna regret it, ’     @notvictim​.

u ever look at ur muse and go “if u were a cis white dude u would get so much attention”