— cris.

cristal frans cohen-chang 22 years young. 173 cm. promoting cosmetics and clothes if not putting makeup on people should be managing family business but hell no.

[actuallycristxl]

bsmythe:

Nope. Must have been something else. Or you’re hearing things, which is probably more likely.

It’s honestly very glad to be rid of you.

[actuallycristxl]

bsmythe:

Rude. My bed loves me.

I’m pretty sure it’s your bed I heard complaining last night.

[bsmythe-blog1]

The plague has finally left my body to go find some other poor, unfortunate soul who tends to drink from random bottles of water that they find while they’re drunk and dying of thirst. Can’t say I’ll miss it, but I can say that I’ll miss being in bed almost 24/7. 

[actuallycristxl]

Unfortunately, the bed doesn’t say the same thing.

[actuallycristxl]

ffrankienstein:

Like, ornaments? Never understood the point of them. I’m not in the habit of breaking things. Just a bit, you know, feral. You want to break stuff?

Among other things. Not really. Some designs just make me want to get rid of them. Something about mismatched colors and patterns and stuff. They make my head hurt. Are you new here, by the way?

[illfates]

Well, this place really is some fancy shit. Feel like I’m gonna break something just by looking at it.

[actuallycristxl]

Stay away from the hallways. So many unnecessary accessories you’d probably want to break but cannot. I know I feel that way.

[privjeanne]

The next time I say yes to helping with the kindergarten-level dance classes, somebody please talk sense into me. It sounded like an easy enough gig until three kids got sick from chugging their apple juice and another somehow ended up with her hair caught in the barre. This all happened before one of them misheard my name and the rest thought it was hilarious, so I spent the rest of the rehearsal being called “Ms. Jason.” I definitely have to give credit to anyone who works with kiddos on a regular basis, because if I did so, I might very well lose my mind.

[actuallycristxl]

. . . Even I felt so stressed after reading that. How are you still alive?

[actuallycristxl]

damn-it-dom-hummel:

Sure, I’d be honored. But in the future, there are less convoluted ways to get people’s heads between your legs.

Imagining your ugly face between my legs is terrifying, so, no, I’ll use my arms to choke you to death, pup.

[ninaatthebarre-blog]

After some extended, unnecessary, and long recertification classes and work meetings, I’m finally back from the dead and actually have a life. And a small little raise.

Just in time for THE OSCARS!! Which is my favorite of all the days of the year (minus my birthday and Christmas). Seriously, Moonlight winning last year changed my life. For real. Like, it actually inspired me to file.

So. Who’s going to join me for cocktails and some Oscar watching?

[actuallycristxl]

I’m here for the cocktails, not so much on Oscar because I’m probably the most uneducated person in terms of movies and awards and just... stuff like that.

[actuallycristxl]

damn-it-dom-hummel:

I’m pretty sure the only acceptable reaction to this is to put them in a triangle hold until they fucking apologize, ideally in front of a bunch of cameras. I’ll teach you how, if not only so I can see it in the news later.

Or a death choke, but yes. I guess. I want to practice that on your neck. Come here.

[actuallycristxl]

What do you say to someone who thinks you actually care about not being able to stand in front of the camera anymore because your thigh looks unpleasant to the eyes? I feel like rolling the eyes wouldn’t be enough.

[actuallycristxl]

bsmythe:

A little more complicated than that, but yeah. { brooke sighed, leaning her weight against the headboard and feeling the heaviness in her limbs get a little more intense now that she was sitting down. the blonde watched cris scoot away and off of the bed, her mind getting stuck on how gorgeous the other girl was and how much brooke missed her, before she blinked her thoughts away and stood up herself. she hoped that it wasn’t noticeable, because brooke often spaced out when she was high, and cris probably remembered that. hopefully. } The sky is my favorite. { brooke nodded happily, gathering the pillows and blankets up in her arms. there were so many of them that it was difficult for her to see over them, and if she was sober she’d probably worry about how dumb she looked, but instead, she just huffed and tried to stand on her tiptoes to see over. she didn’t realize that as she stood on her tiptoes, the lump of comfort items she was carrying also moved up, so it was quite impossible for her to see over it no matter what. brooke groaned in frustration, but went to walk to the front door. } Let me know if I’m about to run into a wall or something.

Since when was family not complicated, anyway? { she said, more to herself than to brooke, as she watched the latter pick up her blankets and pillows with a bit of a struggle, which she obviously tried to hide. it brought a smile to cris’ face -- reminded her of days when she got to witness such situations with brooke on a daily basis because, although they had refused to make things official, they both ended up living in one place anyway. and for almost a year, it was cris’ home until she wrecked it with her own hands. cris lowered her head in shame at the reminder, only to look back up again at the sound of obvious struggle this time --- and almost immediately, she forgot about the bullshit running in her mind, only focused on the adorable sight of brooke trying to navigate her way towards her door without the aid of her eyes. } Let me help. { she joined walked as fast as she could towards the door, pulling it wide open first before grabbing a pillow and two blankets from the pile to tuck underneath her arm } You don’t have to carry them all on your own. It’s not like I’ll break if I carry some pillows and blankets. { then she led the way to the hall, guiding both herself and brooke as much as she could. } Is that all you’re bringing upstairs? 

[actuallycristxl]

damn-it-dom-hummel:

I think we can agree I’d win, anyway.

Rude. I’ve been developing your speed controlled elevator for a month now.

You can only win if there’s a competition, and I see none here, kid.

I’ll be impressed on the day the world actually uses your elevator. ‘Til then, that won’t be pertinent information to me.

[actuallycristxl]

damn-it-dom-hummel:

Because you’re not actually pissed about my saying so and that’s interesting.

I’m Dom. I know we talked before but I never introduced myself.

I’m not interested either.

We did? I can’t remember talking to your face before. I’m Cris.

[actuallycristxl]

damn-it-dom-hummel:

No, I expected you to realize that the two things were a) not that interesting to start with, and b) loosely connected at best. By making it a dumbass question like that, I let you think I’m stupid and avoid making it a confrontation I have zero interest in having.

This is my new favorite game.

Okay, and why are you still here?

I’m not even going to ask.

[actuallycristxl]

damn-it-dom-hummel:

I was trying to figure out the connection between the heels and listening to everyone’s bullshit, but now you genuinely have my attention. What makes you so sure I don’t want to hear what you’re thinking? Better how, and for who?

So, by trying to figure out the connection between the two, you came up to me and asked me where I got the magic shoe. Did you ever think that you were going to get an answer from me? Because, since you told me to be honest, I instantly thought that the question was stupid. 

[actuallycristxl]

damn-it-dom-hummel:

It’s easy, I promise. You just type down the words that go through your mind when you read the ones that’ve gone through mine.

Okay, then. I have no idea where you got the idea of a shoe which enhances your sense of hearing. I also think you could do better than your seemingly sarcastic remarks. 

[actuallycristxl]

bsmythe:

In space. { brooke repeated absent-mindedly, moving to collect a few pillows and blankets that were scattered on her bed and in her closet. } Hanging out with Dylan’s. I’ve actually been living with her for awhile, instead of here. This is my first night back here in a couple of weeks. { she surprisingly didn’t miss being in her room, or in her apartment with her brothers. she missed steve a bit, but other than that, brooke loved being at dylan’s. once all of the comfort items were gathered, brooke sat next to cris on the bed and leaned her head on her shoulder lazily for a couple of seconds before leaning back on her forearms. } What about you, Terminator? The leg getting any better?

Let me guess. Usual siblings being siblings? { cris scooted closer to the headboard whilst kneading the area surrounding her stitches as gently as she could, just to get rid of the slight numbness. she didn’t dare comment about dylan since, again, she didn’t know much about the other girl, though cris did hummed at the info -- like she’s saying that she’s glad that brooke had someone like dylan to comfort her when she, herself, couldn’t be brooke’s source of comfort anymore --- not matter how much that hurt to know. it all got better when she felt the weight of brooke’s head on her shoulder, albeit brief, but it was enough to bring a little smile on her lips as she looked at her with a slight shake of her head. } I guess. It’s numb every now and then; there are times when it’s painful, but it’s a part of the healing process, I suppose. { with a soft sigh, she slid back to the bed’s edge, grabbing her cane to help her back on her feet. } Let’s go? I’m actually a little excited to see the sky -- in spite of light pollution.