#i would have had th picture more zoomed out but my phone's broken so the camera focus is all kinds of destroyed

[popcornanon]

Metal, Part 1

A/N: the backstory to my ‘Glass’ story, also I never know what to title my writings lol

Warnings: blood, gore, physical and sexual assault

BAU Team x Reader

Hotch x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Hotch, Morgan and you were crammed into the booth with the best vantage point of the bar. This bar, The Black Cat, was one of the three bars young brunette women disappeared from, only to be later found brutally beaten, sexually assaulted and wrists slit. The bar was packed tight with college students fresh from a university football game. Reid had, of course, decided to stay back at the precinct since bars weren’t really his ‘scene’. He felt he was more helpful going over the files and narrowing down the profile with Rossi.

Morgan’s eyes were trained on the front entrance of the bar as he took a sip of his ginger ale. Hotch’s eyes moved through the room like he was reading a page in a book. His hand fidgeted with his glass.

The bar seemed to become hot and humid with all the sweaty bodies constantly moving around. You scooted out of the booth and told the guys you were going out for some air. You had also wanted to check out the taxi situation to see if the drivers had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“I’ll come with you.” Hotch yelled slightly over the music.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” You yelled back. Hotch saw the look on your face and read that you’d rather go alone for some quiet and fresh air. He settled back into his seat.

You made your way pushing through the crowd towards JJ and Emily. You quickly informed them of your plan as you kept pushing to the door before they could argue. Finally once you were outside, you positioned yourself under the awning of the bar off to the side. The cool air felt wonderful on your skin as you breathed in the night. The rain was a sprinkle now and several taxi cabs lined the street waiting for potential customers. You looked at your phone to see the time. It was just after 2:00 am. You were hoping last call would be soon and Hotch would allow the team to return to the hotel for a few hours of rest. You shifted on your feet as you regretted not packing your more comfortable shoes. The new shoes had started to ache the soles of your feet and you were dying to kick them off and crawl into your mediocre hotel bed.

You decided to pace the front of the outside of the bar. You tried to determine different vantage points the unsub may have used. As you get closer to the alley to the left of the bar, an arm reached out and wraps around your neck. You knew what this was and you refused to go down without a fight. The attacker pulled you into the darkness. Derek has always described you as small but feisty and you were going to show this unsub just how feisty you could be. His hand now covered your mouth to keep you from yelling out and alerting close by-standers. As the man struggled for something in his pocket, you placed your left foot behind his and twisted to break out of the hold. You broke free but he grabbed your shirt and yanked you back into the alley. You tried for your gun but suddenly a foul smelling cloth covered your mouth. The unsub held you hard against a dumpster. You felt your body begin to weaken despite of your protests. But you didn’t lose consciousness, just lost control of your own body. You leaned on the man as he held you up. Carefully, he unholstered your gun and gently placed it on the alley floor. Your vision began to blur at the edges and the lights blared brightly. You shoved your phone into your pants as best as you could. The man wrapped your arm around his neck as he half carried you to the line of taxis. After deciding on the taxi farthest from the bar door, he smoothly slid you into the backseat of the cab behind the driver. The attacker began casually talking to the driver.

“Whew, what a night! Think my wife drank a bit too much.”  He said as he closed the car door.  “She’s a bit of a lightweight, if you know what I mean.”

The driver chuckled and the unsub gave an address you heard but couldn’t decipher. A phone rang out and for a second you thought it was yours but the attacker answered his own. While he was distracted, you shoved your own phone down a crevice of the taxi seat. You desperately hope someone would find it. You began to fade in and out, hearing only bits and pieces of the unsub’s conversation.  

“Yeah, I can get you the paperwork…sorry babe…got to stop at work for some things. Hey buddy, change of address.”

The rest of the ride was a dizzying fight to stay awake. The cab soon stopped outside a dark warehouse with one dim lightbulb lighting the entrance.

“You want me to wait?” The driver asked.

“Nah, I’ll be awhile. Come on, honey.” He said supporting you and paying the taxi in cash.

The taxi drove off and as soon as you were forced through the door, a powerful punch landed square in your face and you were on the ground. Before you could even register the pain from the blow and the now blood seeping from you nose, you were being dragged through a hallway, down a stairwell, and into a basement. Momentarily you were on your feet only to be pushed down again onto a cold concrete floor. The man began kicking you in the abdomen. The pain was close to blinding now.  

“FBI…huh…not that impressive.” He commented as he circled his prey. “You’ve been gone, what, 20 minutes. Have they even noticed you’re gone?” He landed another kick to your side, this one just as powerful as the others. You began to cough violently.

“How about some music?” Raging heavy metal boomed through the empty basement. Your head rang from what was bound to be a concussion now from all the hits.

He turned you on your back and for the first time you saw your attacker’s face. His eyes were steely blue yet dark with perversion. He straddled you and carried out several more punches to your face and jaw. Red filled your sight and you choked on the blood that rose in your throat. He leaned down to your ear and whispered with his hot breath.

“How about we have some fun before your friends show up?” And the unmistakable sound of a belt unbuckling echoed as a pause in songs happened.  

~ ~ ~

Back at the bar, last call had been called ten minutes ago and there was no sign of you. The team gathered outside of the entrance of the bar.

“I’ve called several times.” JJ said as she hung up her phone. “What if she went back to the precinct?”

“Without telling us?” Morgan stated the obvious.

“No, Reid said she wasn’t there.” Prentiss hung up her own phone.

“I’m calling her again.” JJ shook her head and pressed dial once more.

A balding heavy set men grunted as he got out of his cab to dig in the back of his car. He held up a ringing familiar phone and before JJ could say anything, Hotch was springing over to the taxi. The team following his steps.

“Was that in your passenger seat?” Hotch questioned.

“Uh, yeah think that couple must have left it.”

“What couple?”

“A man and his lady…lady was pretty much out of it. Said she drank too much.”

“Did she look like this?” Emily pulled up a picture of the team at the annual triathlon on her phone. She pointed to your zoomed in smiling picture.

“Yeah, that’s her…ah don’t tell me that was her ex?” The driver asked.

“No, much worse.” Derek mumbled.

“Where did you take them?” Hotch said trying to maintain his voice.

“A warehouse. The guy said it was his office.”  

“We need that address now.” Hotch got his phone out and called Reid. “Reid, we need SWAT and police at this address. We’ll most likely will need EMS too. He has (Y/N).”

~ ~ ~

It was becoming increasingly hard to breathe as you gasped. He was still on top of you. But now he had a knife out and was lightly dragging it across your stomach. Your chest ached, you could tell your ribs were bruised or broken from fighting him.

“Now, for the final performance…my favorite.” He announced.  

He plunged the knife into your lower abdomen as you gasped and coughed. Your body was close to being paralyzed from the pain. He continued stabbing at random places on your torso.

“The piece de resistance!” You could feel the blade drive down your forearm on both wrists, one at a time. He was finishing his MO: slit wrists.

Th CD was now finished with its songs and the faint echoing of sirens filled the musty air. The unsub whipped his head to look in a darkened corner where a shadow moved and the creaking of a door hinge originated.

“Well, funs over now. Ta-ta!” And with that you were left alone.

Your hands and legs began to numb and you struggled to breathe through the blood. Your vision was blurred with crimson. Suddenly, a familiar face peered down into yours. More faded into view. Then mouths moved but the sound was slurred and slow, almost echoing through empty space but unintelligible. Pressure built on your stomach and arms. Your eyes were open, barely processing the chaos surrounding you. Everything went white and suddenly you were in the back of a tall vehicle watching orange lights reflect off objects. A mask covered your mouth and nose but did little to improve your breathing. Your eyes wandered to your side where a grimace of a face was. His umber eyes on yours and you thought to yourself: I don’t have shoes on…when did I take my shoes off?

You attempted to sit up but immense pain and pressure forced you down. The pressure coming from the hands of the umber eyed face. You stared confusingly at the face. It said something but you didn’t understand the words. They were muffled and far away. Your eyes wandered again to your bloodied bandaged left hand and saw the face’s hand in yours. This seemed to confuse you more. You raised your free hand to the hissing mask and removed it as you tried to free yourself from the cords. You began to cry as more hands pushed you gently but forcibly down. You were so tired and weak and confused. A hand reached to your arm and your eyes fluttered closed and all was quiet and still.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #papa rossi #dave rossi #penelope garcia #hotch x reader #bau x reader #glass backstory

[ghostyprince]

your pantherverse au is beautiful and now im obsessed with ryan sneaking round trying to surprise and prod “mrrrps” outta shane. fic would be adorable if your still open to pantherverse requests 💖

i hope you like this, thank you for the prompt, it’s so hecking cute❤ also it’s mostly my friend’s @josemorningstar‘s au tbh, i just help in with it. (he’s happy to answer asks about it too!)

read on AO3

Ryan puts a finger to his lips, twisted into a grin, in a shushing motion, and then he taps the flip camera icon on his phone. Shane’s frame from behind pops up on the screen, sitting on his office chair, legs crossed. He’s editing a photo, probably for a thumbnail, and it’s one of those rare occasions when he’s so focused he doesn’t even hear Ryan walk up behind him.

Ryan is moving slowly, putting one foot after the other with the ease of a predator, skilled in sneaking up on his prey. That is Shane and he does not suspect a thing. Perfect.

The footage shows Ryan reaching out, just as carefully, before going in quick, making contact with Shane’s back, splaying out over the thin fabric of his shirt.

Ryan holds his breath as he does so and a heartbeat later—

Yeah, there it is. Shane jumps, a little sound escaping his lips, a sound that makes Ryan’s grin grow impossibly big. It’s one of his favorites, he’d die happily hearing it.

It’s a mrrp, a sound plenty of cats make when touched unexpectedly, but Ryan’s favorite is the one Shane does. So, of course, he tries to scare or surprise him as often as he possibly can.

He only puts it on Instagram because the whole experience of Shane making that noise is a blessing upon this world that needs to be shared. Well, not too often, Ryan would still like to keep most of the occasions he actually managed to surprise Shane into a mrrp to himself.

He stops recording after he zooms in on Shane’s very much unamused expression, accompanied by Ryan’s belly laugh. He barely had time to pull his phone down and duck out of the way of one of the smaller Paddington plushes flying towards him. Another set of giggles bubble up from his chest before he realizes what Shane actually threw at him.

“Hey, I got that from a fan, asshole!” He scoffs, going to pick poor little Paddington up and set him back on his desk carefully.

“That’s what you get for being a dick,” Shane says, chin propped up in his palm, focusing on his laptop again. There is a flush high on his cheeks and Ryan, once again, can’t contain his satisfied grin. Shane is blushing! He’s blushing and he’s fucking sulking, at that!

Easily the best thing he’s seen all day and it’s only 10 AM.

“But it’s so cute, Shane. Gotta share it with the fans!”

“It’s not fucking cute.” Shane murmurs. He sounds like he’s mad but Ryan catches a glimpse at the hint of a smile behind his fingers.

He knew he won immediately.

“I won’t post it if you don’t want me to.” Ryan offers because he’s a good friend. And he also knows how sensitive Shane is about the sounds he makes, due to having broken meows in his cat form. Ryan personally thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever, but Shane is stubborn as hell.

“Go ahead,” Shane says, letting out an exasperated sigh as if he’d be doing a huge sacrifice. What a drama queen. “I suppose at the very least people will see just how gone you are over me.”

He adds, with a smug drawl to his voice, and it had the desired effect because Ryan’s stomach does a little flip. The one specific flip it got used to doing ever since they’ve started playfully flirting with each other, just tethering on the edge of too much or too dangerous. On the edge of their friendship, before it evolves into something more. More serious, romantic, sexual, just more.

Ryan is still trying to catch his breath after that whole interaction as he settles back in his chair, to edit and post the video on Instagram.

He wonders when they will finally say fuck it, and jump over that line between friendship and something more together.

Or, because it’s them, the Ghoulboys, when will one of them finally drag the other over that line?

The next time Ryan gets the urge to make Shane do that wonderful little noise is when they’re filming the newest season of True Crime.

They’re about thirty minutes in and Ryan is reading his script, then coming to a pause to look at Shane and give him an opportunity to react. But Shane isn’t really looking at him. In fact, he’s just staring right in front of him, so deep in thought, Ryan isn’t sure he’s even in his body anymore.

Normally, Ryan would be concerned, and he is, to a degree, but he knows how hard Watcher has them working at the moment, the anxiety, that their whole company might be a flop. It had a toll on both theirs and Steven’s mental health. Not to mention their sleep schedules.

So it’s not unusual Shane is zoning out, especially while Ryan is trying to talk about some pretty heavy murder case. Ryan does see an opportunity, however, to have a little fun with Shane not paying attention to him.

Everyone kind of just stopped, including TJ, but before he could say anything, ask Shane if he’s okay, Ryan is reaching out, pointer finger extended. He holds his breath, the corner of his lips already lifting into a huge grin and then his finger makes contact with the side of Shane’s face.

And Shane jumps. He flinches more than Ryan had ever seen him, and he’d feel a little bad if it weren’t for that ‘mrrp’. It’s so loud, is the thing and it makes Ryan’s heart sing in happiness.

He bursts out laughing, head thrown back and his whole body bowing into it. There is some laughter from the crew too, but Ryan is too busy looking at Shane, all bright smile and shining eyes, despite Shane’s expression being pissed.

Ryan knows it’s not too serious, he has gotten used to that expression, with how much he’s been a brat lately, at every opportunity he gets, to get a reaction, anything out of Shane.

“Very funny, can we go back to the murked guy now?” Shane asks, trying and failing at covering up his embarrassment.

And well, Ryan could point out how he’s been the one zoning out, but it has no use, Shane is annoyed already, and Ryan does know not to go too far sometimes. He’ll make it up to him later by buying him lunch or something.

“Sure thing, big guy.” He says instead, shooting him one last smile, full of warmth and fondness and it might improve Shane’s mood just a little.

It’s going to be another story for Instagram, and then it will remain a video on Ryan’s phone, sitting there for ages, for him to hit up sometimes and smile about, ear to ear. Show Shane, maybe, as they’re chilling together at Ryan’s, or Shane’s, maybe their own apartment together at that point.

Fuck, they’ve only been officially a Thing for a few days and Ryan is already daydreaming about their future, years down the line. Well, can anyone put the blame on him, really? When Shane is sleeping next to him like that, so unbothered, beautiful in the setting sun that filters through the plane’s tiny window.

His face is smooth, and Ryan has the weirdest urge to kiss his nose, or the small cluster of freckles right above his right eyelashes, or Shane’s slightly parted lips, huffing little breaths of air. He thinks it may be the honeymoon phase of their relationship, all of it being so new. Ryan is simply overwhelmed with the fact that he could do all of that now, and more if he so pleases. On the other hand, he doesn’t think he will ever stop being giddy about that. Or how soft Shane looks when he’s sleeping.

Ryan took a picture of him before he started recording too, it’s easily one of his favorite photos of Shane. And then, because Ryan Bergara is an insufferable little shit who has to entertain himself on the boring plane ride, he figured he might as well try to make Shane do that sound again.

The very first time he shared it with the internet in the form of that office video everyone loved it. So, Shane’s little cat noise had been high demand, people kept tweeting and commenting and yelling at him absolutely everywhere to upload another one of those videos.

And well, who is Ryan Bergara to deny them?

He raises the phone higher, to frame Shane perfectly, and carefully removes his hand from where it was resting, on top of Shane’s. Luckily, he didn’t react to that.

Ryan takes a few minutes, to think about how he’d like to approach it. Simply touching Shane has been done, he should do something more original.

He could poke his nose. Or tickle his neck. Ryan hums and his gaze happens to drift over to Shane’s hair. He could just bury his hand in his hair like he would with a cat’s fur.

He starts recording again, and the mic picks up his amused little chuckle.

“Part two for you folks, here we go.” He announces in a hushed tone before carefully reaching out to bury his fingers into Shane’s oh so soft locks, carding through it, maybe way too lovingly for it to be taken as a friendly gesture.

And then, there it is.

Shane lets out Ryan’s favorite noise and Ryan is fucking overjoyed. Up until Shane full-on tilts his head into Ryan’s hand as he lets out an enthusiastic purr, and Ryan forgets to breathe.

“Ohmygod.”

The words are punched out of his lung, in one breath, smushed together, and when Ryan would listen back to his voice later he would realize how in awe and disgustingly in love he sounded just then.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He ends the video, almost abruptly. His other is still brushing through Shane’s hair, subconsciously, scratching at his scalp with gentle fingers. He feels Shane shudder and then brown, sleepy eyes are blinking back at him. Shane’s purrs go quiet but it reverberates through his chest ever so slightly. Ryan can feel it when his hand drops onto Shane’s nape, tangling into the long strands of hair there too, pulling just a bit, just to feel Shane shudder again, hear the soft growl coming from the back of his throat.

“Stop it, you’re gonna make me horny.” He murmurs and Ryan wheezes, but complies. Reluctantly.

“Did you just take a video of me, by the way?” Shane asks, rubbing a hand down his face, tired. Ryan feels it too, the exhaustion as he looks at his friend, business partner, boyfriend. They’ve really been through an awful lot these months, with Watcher, currently shooting the new season of Supernatural.

But they could always take a nap together.

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. We’ll talk about it later. Go back to sleep, big guy.” Ryan tells him quietly, pocketing his phone and well, who is Shane to say no to that?

So he does, slipping as far down his seat as his Sasquatch legs would allow him, so he can rest his cheek against Ryan’s shoulder, using him as an impromptu pillow. Ryan does not complain at all.

They would talk about the video, later, when they would be in their hotel room.

Well, it isn’t much of a talk at all, it’s more of Shane watching the video while Ryan worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He shouldn’t even be nervous. He’d understand if the video would end up in his drafts for a few months still, years even.

Then Shane looked up at him, with that incredibly annoying, unreadable expression on his face, before leaning in to press a kiss to Ryan’s cheek. “It’s cute, you should post it.”

That’s all he says, in the most nonchalant way possible and Ryan would like to hit him a little bit for that.

Regardless, the video ends up uploaded onto his feed instead, because it deserves to be there, not just for a day, but for a good while, to mark the beginning of a new chapter of sorts.

It deserves a caption just as monumental, so there are no misunderstandings or a flood of questions later on.

ryanbergara: Part 2 of annoying the boyfriend 💖

Ryan wakes to the sunshine burning his eyes, still feeling as sleepy when he and Shane went to bed last night as he checks his phone. It’s way too early in the morning for either of them to be awake.

And yet, here they are. Here is Shane, turned in a way that Ryan can see the expanse of his back Ryan loves to admire. He sweeps his gaze over his favorite freckles on Shane’s back and the dip of his waist disappearing under the covers. The sunlight drapes over Shane’s back invitingly, making it seem warm, soft and kissable.

He kissed all those freckles many times, and he still can’t get enough of the sight of them, not even so many years later.

He still can’t get enough of waking up next to Shane, seeing him first thing in the morning. Ryan’s heart flutters every time, he simply cannot help it.

There is a faint light coming from the other side of Shane, bouncing off of his hair, suggesting he’s on his phone.

And that won’t do, Ryan is awake and he needs attention.

He moves, swiftly fitting himself behind Shane, with one strong arm wrapping around his waist under the covers securely.

“Mrrp!”

The sound lets something loose in Ryan and he melts behind Shane, his hold tightening around him has Shane complaining in the form of a groan.

Ryan doesn’t care one bit though, he’s purring loudly now, much deeper and powerful than Shane’s purrs normally are, considering he’s a panther. It must reverberate through Shane’s whole body because he relaxes, pressed into Ryan’s chest and head falling back on Ryan’s shoulder.

His hand finds Ryan’s, long fingers curling around his, lacing together and knocking their matching silver rings together in the process.

“You’re crushing me, dumbass.” Shane laughs, quietly, fondly, in contrast to his words.

“Mhm, don’t care.” Ryan hums, pressing a chaste kiss on Shane’s shoulder and hugging him even closer, to prove a point.

“Sure you don’t. Go on, suffocate your poor husband if that’s what I deserve! For being your faithful lover for years and—” Shane cuts himself off with another groan of complaint, attempting to turn out of Ryan’s arms when he has the audacity to wheeze into Shane’s neck.

Yeah, Ryan wouldn’t have it any other way.

#shyan #shyan fic #shyan fanfiction #skeptic believer #pantherverse #prompt fill #fanfiction #fanfictions #answered #asks #anon #anonymus #thank you so much for the prompt

[chiauve]

The Man in the Dark - 2

“That’s enough TV for today,” Ally’s mother said, glaring down at her daughter the couch potato.

“But it’s a new season,” Ally argued, but at another look from her mom she paused her program and exited to the home screen before the remote was straight up taken from her and she lost her place.

Her mom had that look.

“I got a call from your teacher this afternoon. She says you haven’t been turning in your homework.”

Because she hadn’t been doing it, but Ally knew better than to say that. She also knew better than to argue that it was boring because adults didn’t care that it was boring just that it was important and had to be done. Instead of denying it or arguing Ally just gave a shamefaced pout.

Her mother sighed. “Alright then, until your grades are back up, no more TV and from now on I’m taking your phone and tablet after dinner. You can have them back in the morning before school.”

That got her attention. Ally spun around on the couch, facing her mother with large, beseeching eyes. “But I need my tablet if I’m gonna do homework!”

“You can use the family computer so you don’t get distracted.”

“But—“

“That’s final, Ally. You don’t need to be chatting with your friends or making videos that late anyway.”

Ally slumped back down into the couch, arms crossed and almost ready to throw a tantrum if she wasn’t aware she was too old for that. Spending her night hours stuck at her homework was a fate worse than death. Unless she could fake getting it done first...

“It’s easier to do my homework at Dad’s work. Can I go there after school instead? Until I do better?”

Her mother eyed her a minute and then shrugged. “All right. I’ll ask your Dad if he’s okay with that.”

“So I can keep my tablet tonight?”

“Fine, we’ll see how things go, but no more TV tonight.”

“Yes, mom.”

--

Back in her room, the door safely shut, Ally flipped through the photos of her recent foray into the basement levels on her tablet, mostly the ones from the bottom-most level. The large, empty room was intriguing in its emptiness; there were slats in the floor for something, and large chains lay discarded. It sent shivers down her spine looking at them even in the comfort of her bed.

Finally she reached the pictures of the keypad with its single little red light. Why was it still active? The entire floor was dead, even the water pipes and air cut off.

What was in there?

While some things remained on the lowest floors, they were items that could be replaced or that were no longer needed. Anything still of value was locked up on the second basement level, everything else below left to be forgotten.

There was probably nothing in that room at all, something was just left on by accident. Like the broken doors.

Or there was something really important in there. Or really scary.

She peered at the photo of the keypad closely, zooming in on the numbers. Some were darker than others, possibly pressed more? But even if she got the combination right, would the door even open? It had been sealed for years now, it could be stuck.

Well she wouldn’t know until she checked it, and she had every intent to try tomorrow. While she still managed to hold onto her bravery.

--

At the BSAA office building, Ally went to her supposed study space first, waiting until people coming and going settled in for the last few hours of work. When things got quieter she picked up and went straight to the basement, creeping onto the first level and then hurrying through each subsequent one, still remembering her rituals of Descent, until she reached the Last Door.

Ally paused in the doorway, faced with that dank, silent hall.

There was something down there. Something locked away.

Her fear crept in. She’d seen enough movies and heard enough stories in her life to know that things that were buried were never supposed to be unburied and when they were only bad things happened. Her fear begged her to go back upstairs, to stay away from this horrible prison.

But Ally took a step forward. And then another. She came from a line of BSAA folk, whether they were tied to a desk or not, and would not back down. She walked to the end where that tiny little red light blazed in this black place. She shone her light on the keypad.

There were numbers and the largest button on the bottom still had the O for ‘open’ visible. Skipping the numbers, she pressed that. Her finger sunk into a layer of grime and she couldn’t tell if the button actually pressed but she listened.

Nothing. She pressed it again, hard. Still nothing. Frowning, Ally began to run through combinations of the darkened numbers, over and over. She’d gone through so many when she began to fear she’d need a keycard as well, and that whatever was here was going to stay hidden forever.

The light turned green and there was a heavy, slow clunk and a release of hydraulics. The door shrieked and then only moved an inch before it got stuck on the track. There was a shivering noise from within that made the hair on Ally’s arms stand on end. She grabbed the door and shoved and was hit in the face with a blast of foul, fetid air rank with rot and she staggered back and gagged. Her lunch crawled up her throat and much as it revolted her she decided to let it go and turned and puked in a corner.

Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope nope...

She never smelled anything that awful and disgusting in her life. The closest she ever smelled was when a squirrel had fallen down their chimney and died on the shut flue and they didn’t know until it started to rot and the smell got in the house.

Something died in that locked room, was still dying.

Tears rolled down her face and she cried, spitting the taste of sick out of her mouth. She wanted to run; she did her job as an explorer and found something she shouldn’t have. Good enough, get back above, now.

She spat again and then froze.

There was that shivering noise again.

Something was moving in there, a lot of something.

She had to know.

Taking a deep breath of stale air that now seemed fresh in comparison to that, Ally pulled the collar of her shirt up over her nose and crept to the door again, her light dancing around erratically as her hand shook. She shoved the door hard and it reluctantly moved along the track, a few inches at a time. She could finally enter and slid the flashlight beam around the room.

Hundreds of red eyes stared back at her. A large pile of rats hunkered in the middle of the room and shrieked at her as her light struck them before they fled, scattering all ways and vanishing back into the dark. Ally yelped and backed out, making sure the rats weren’t following, and then slowly crept in again.

There was still something on the floor, a pile of black and red and brown that wasn’t rats. It wasn’t moving at all.

The smell was so terrible Ally had to step back out in the hall again, gasping and gagging. When she re-entered the red eyes of the rats were back, watching her. She shone her light at them and they disappeared. She took a slow couple of steps towards the pile in the room and her unease began to grow further.

Whatever it was, it was chained down. Enormous chains as thick as her arms criss-crossed several times over the form, the links vanishing into slats on the floor. It was lying in a puddle of red, thick and dried with rat droppings.

It was wet.

She froze and stared in horror. Open wounds were weeping blood and clear fluids slowly, some exposing the white of bone. What might have once been clothes were shredded to near nothing, bared skin so filthy and infected it was discolored.

It was breathing. Or at least it looked like it was breathing. No, it was her shaking light, playing tricks on her. Had to be. She’d been exploring these dark places long enough to know that’s what the dark did. It was a trickster and liked to play, to confuse.

Against her better judgment, she took another step, her light on the bloody pile on the floor. Her free hand raised her phone for a picture, and the flash went off.

It was slight but unmistakable this time. One end of the pile moved, a swatch of matted, filthy hair shifted and Ally was met with a single eye. It was red and reptilian and, locking onto her, began to glow.

The pile moved now, tensed against the chains, and then there was a clacking and a hefty clunk as the chains were pulled down with sharp force from below, several links pulled into the slats in the floor, forcing the pile, the thing, back down violently. The head, for it was unmistakable that’s what it was now, threw back and a blackened mouth opened in a pain-filled scream, but there was no sound. A rush of air and bubbling blood and remnants of dead flesh splattered the floor in front of its trapped face.

Ally screamed in its stead and ran, nearly slipping on the grime. She grabbed the door and forced it shut, putting as much between her and that awful rotting thing as she could, and then she ran and didn’t stop running until she reached the light of the main floor, until she reached a bathroom. She locked herself in a stall and threw up again, though nothing came up but she kept trying, trying to purge the smell, the rot, the terror from her little body.

Ally sat on the floor and scoot into the corner, clutching her backpack and started sobbing.

She should have known better. She should have.

What was that horrible thing?

She wanted nothing more than to run to her father and beg him to take her home. She’d never explore down below again, honest! Just make whatever that was go away!

But she was too scared to move, too horrified, and after long minutes of crying adrenaline leaked out of her and left her exhausted on the bathroom floor, hiccuping.

She finally got up and left the stall, staring at herself in the mirror. She splashed cold water on her face to try to get rid of the puffiness.

In a strange, relaxed daze, Ally wandered back to her usual place to do homework and sat down. She didn’t even pretend to work, but stared at the shoddy picture on her phone.

The flash lit the pile well enough, but the picture was blurred from shaking. Still, she could make out the form now. There was a head, the large hunch in the pile were shoulders, it tapered down to hips and then legs. A man-like figure, chained down on its side in a puddle of filth.

Ally hands gripped her phone tightly, the very image making her shake not only from her experience but from the horrible stories her grandpa used to tell her.

There was a BOW down there, a trapped zombie forgotten in the basement when all else had been cleared out.

She wouldn’t run to her dad, not yet. She wasn’t a little kid. And she didn’t want to surrender her explorer title just yet. This was still a mystery. She’d solve it first, and then be a good girl and tell her dad there was a monster down below.

She took a long, deep breath, and reminded herself to dig out her old bat from the closet for next time.

#resident evil #albert wesker #body horror #gore #kinda #the man in the dark #fanfic

[min-jonginie]

vi. buried beneath 🥀 personal;

“My eyes have adjusted to dark and so has my heart, the weight of the world has covered me. I'm in over my head, am I living or dead? Can anyone hear me calling out? I'm calling out!”   – RED, “BURIED BENEATH”

Laying in bed as he’d often found himself doing since the picture got out, Jongin longingly glanced out his window. To the outside world. He’d almost forgotten what the sun felt like against his skin, how the wind brushed his hair. He could faintly hear the laughter of kids in glee outside, the sound of cars zooming by. It was midday, and Min still hadn’t gotten out of his room.

Still hoping that sleep would take him, or instead that he’d wake up and find he’d been stuck in the most terrible dream of all. But no matter how many times he pinched himself, he always found himself in the same place. In bed, curled up on himself and alone. He was barely responsive anymore, Kibum had to go the extra mile to even get a response out of him. His phone buzzed incessantly, but he didn’t touch it.

He completely cut himself out, from others and himself. The only thing clouding his thoughts being Sungki. His mind was chanting, practically screaming the name. Sungki, Sungki, Sungki. It seemed to be the answer to all of his questions. What he wanted, what would soothe him, who he missed. Always him, and Jongin honestly thought he was going insane with the waiting. It hadn’t even been that long, a week tops since he’d seen the younger boy. But their world was flipped upside down, and now he feared never seeing him again.

For the 23rd time this morning, Jongin’s phone rang. He didn’t think his phone ever rang that much in his entire life that it had this past week. He groaned in frustration, sitting in bed and snatching the phone from his bedside table. Just as he was about to throw it against the wall, watch it smash into a million pieces, he caught a familiar name on the screen.

Minji.

His heart sank in his chest, eyes wide. His fingers hovered over the screen; should he answer? His hands were trembling, so much so that even if he’d tried answering, it’d prove to be difficult. He hesitantly reached out and pressed the call button, slowly bringing the phone to his ear.

“…H- Hello?” he whispered, biting back a sob.

“Jongin? Oh…” Minji sighed on the other end of the line. “Thank god you answered!”

“Is everything- I m- mean, are you… are you okay, noona?”  

“Um… well, I..” Minji was visibly struggling with her wording, and it only increased the feeling of dread Jongin was feeling. “I need to talk to you, Jongin-ah… it’s about Sungki.”

Min’s eyes widened, and for a short moment he stayed silent, swallowing thickly in apprehension of what Minji had to say. Maybe she wanted to order him to stay away from her baby brother, that he’d caused their family enough pain. Maybe she wanted to tell him Sungki didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. Maybe she wanted to threaten him. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Millions of thoughts ran through his head, but Minji’s sweet voice ripped him out of his mind.

“Jongin…? Are you still there?” she seemed hesitant.

“N- Ne. Mianhae, noona. I blanked out…”

“That’s- uh, that’s alright. Have you seen the news?” she sighed softly.

He didn’t, should he have seen them? Eyes wide, mouth gaping he blinked a few tears (he didn’t remember when they’d made their way to his eyes, but it wasn’t anything new, really). The news, what news?

“Y- You mean the, uh… the picture?” he cleared his throat, trying to sound as calm and collected as he could, but it turned out to be a massive failure. It earned him a pained sigh on the other end of the line.

“No… I mean, yes, but not that. About Sungki…” Jongin’s heart picked up the pace, his breathing labored. “Jongin? …are you alright?” he could tell how her own voice grew strained, and it only made him more nervous.

“Yes, I’m okay, noona… thank you for… for worrying, I guess. But I didn’t s- see anything else in the news… did something happen?” he worried at his lip, wincing when he drew blood.

There was a small silence on the other end, only static resonating in his ear. His head was throbbing, brows furrowed and heart pounding. What happened? What happened?! He was pulled out of his thoughts – once again – by Minji’s sharp gasp.

“…Noona?”

She burst into sobs on the other end, and Jongin’s heart felt like it could burst as well. He stammered her name over and over again, gaze flickering around the room to try and anchor himself to something. Anything.

“I- It’s Sungki… he was- he is… I mean, he…” the wait was killing him, but he didn’t want to rush her either. At this point, Jongin was already crying, muffling his own sobs with his hand. He put his phone on mute, in case he slipped up; she didn’t need to hear this. No one did.

“He was attacked… h- he’s in the hospital… broken r- ribs, broken arm, th- they marked him, s- stabbed-“ she cried softly.

Min hung up before he could realize what he was doing, eyes wide in horror and all the sound drowning out of the room. No… no, this couldn’t be. This isn’t true. He gasped sharply, holding his breath. It was as if a weight had been put on his throat, straining even to just try and breathe. He shook his head repeatedly, repeating ‘no’ over and over in his mind. This wasn’t happening, it wasn’t. Sungki was safe, he wasn’t hurt in any way.

But even he did not believe a lie so flagrant, how could he? His vision blurred completely with the tears, he felt lightheaded from keeping the air inside, his face flushing in effort as he tried to get out of bed. He fell face first onto the floor of his room with a grunt, finally allowing himself to breathe.

“No, no, no, no…” his voice was shaky and unstable. “No, no, NO! NO!” he suddenly shouted, balling his hands into fists and ramming them into the floor. Repeatedly, without much thought as he wailed. His knuckles grew white, then red, stinging with each blow to the floor. His voice quickly grew raspy from the strain, but it didn’t stop him; he couldn’t stop it. Each screech, each cry was flowing out of him without any effort, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Min pushed himself off the ground, a hand clutching his heart and staining his shirt with his own blood. He struggled to even stay standing, but something pushed him forward. He threw his head back and howled, so loudly that as he lunged for his desk and wiped all the items off of it, no noise came back to him. When he slammed his fist into the mirror of his vanity, he couldn’t hear the glass shattering on the floor, couldn’t hear his wardrobe falling over with an audible crack as he pushed it down. Only a monotone ringing hummed in the crook of his ear.

Before long he found himself kneeling in the middle of a destruction site, images of Sungki floating in his head and his body wracked with sobs, covered in open wounds, bruises and scratch marks, which he’d inflicted on himself. Why was this happening? What had Jongin done, what had Sungki done that was so bad it warranted this? This hatred and this pain?

He wrapped his arms around himself and curled up on himself, laying his head over his knees. His bottom lip wobbled as he tried not to cry again. He cleared his throat and started singing to himself, voice shaky.

“You are my sunshine… my only sunshine… you make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away…”

#para #self para #p: buried beneath

[khiphop-stories]

Jay Park - Unspoken Rule

“Park Jaebum?!” You repeated in a high pitch voice, your jaw dropping wide open. You wanted to confirm that you heard her right and that your ears weren’t deceiving you.

“Yes. Is there a problem?” Your boss asked you, surprised by your flabbergasted reaction. She arched one of her almost non-existent eyebrows at you, looking at you with questioning eyes, which were also partly filled with concern.

“N-no,” you answered reluctantly, shaking your head in response. Well, there wasn’t a problem per se. You didn’t even know him personally. But you weren’t very enthusiastic about working with him either. One of your close friends had broken up with him several months ago. And she didn’t really have nice things to say about him. Even while they were still in a relationship, she was mostly complaining about him. His lack of time and attention, his perverted music videos and lyrics, his big ego, his playfulness, his rudeness, his randomness. And the list went on endlessly.

So of course you weren’t eager to meet him, but work was priority. You couldn’t let your personal feelings affect your work. After all it was a great opportunity for you. As a fashion photographer you had spend most of your time in Seoul, Paris and New York. But this time the location of the shooting was planned to take place in Seattle. You’ve always wanted to go there. It was on your bucket list but you never had the opportunity to go, because you were too busy with work. However, as chance would have, Seattle was Jay’s hometown. That city held a great meaning to him that’s why the editor in chief of the magazine decided to grant him his wish and send the whole team, including you, to Seattle.

~*~

You decided to see things positively. At least you didn’t have to spend a 12 hour flight with him, since he was already in Seattle. You didn’t even have to stay at the same hotel, as he was staying with his family. And if you both focused only on work, the time would fly by. It always did whenever you were behind the lens.

However, before doing the photo shooting you had to talk with him about the details and the concept first. So you scheduled a meeting with him in a little cozy café that he had suggested.

You glanced at the watch on your wrist again, letting out a long sigh. Fifteen minutes had already passed and he still hadn’t shown up. Yes, you were prejudiced, you weren’t really fond to be working with him but he didn’t really make a good first impression either by coming late.

You were on the brink of standing up and leaving, when Jay bursted into the café breathlessly. He supported his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. When he calmed down a little, he walked over to you, immediately giving you a ninety degree bow.

“I’m so sorry for making you wait,” he apologized and bowed once again.

You nodded your head briefly, acknowledging his apology and motioned him to sit down. He followed your instruction without a word. He kept his eyes low as if he was too ashamed to look at you.

“I checked out some locations I think would suit the concept,” you went straight to the point and spread the photos you had taken earlier today on the table for him to see. He examined each picture with great interest. Then he nodded his head, showing that he liked those spots you had chosen. “You have a good eye,” he complimented you with a genuine smile. Usually you would feel flattered, but since it was him, the ex-boyfriend of your close friend, someone you were supposed to hate, you convinced yourself that he was only sweet talking, trying to appear nice.

“Uhm…” he started his sentence as he nervously fumbled his fingers on the table. His eyes were still avoiding you. “There’s one location I really like. I used to spend a lot of time there…and I also think it would fit the concept,” he began to explain slowly. His eyes were now darting through the room aimlessly. “I brought a picture…” he pulled out his phone and showed it to you. You inspected the picture, zooming in and out. As you didn’t say anything Jay grew more and more nervous with every second. He wasn’t usually like that, but he could sense you weren’t his biggest fan and he noticed that you were pissed, because he was late.

“I mean…you probably know it the best…I’m not trying to mess with your work…It’s just an idea…a stupid idea…you know what? Never min—“ he struggled to form a cohesive sentence and you cut him off.

“No,” you shook your head, releasing a warm smile. “I think you might have a better eye than me,” you laughed.

You always welcomed new ideas. Especially when you were working with artists. Models usually just did their job, trying to sell the products. But working with musicians was different. They had their own vision and imagination. You were working with them, not for them or against them. You wanted to portray them in a light that both sides, the brand and the artist himself would be content with. So you loved it, when they gave you a hand to make the final outcome perfect.

You didn’t want to start liking him, but you couldn’t help but be intrigued by his dedication and work ethic. He went all the way to take those pictures for you, even though it wasn’t his task. Seattle really did have a special place in his heart.

“To be honest I’m not well versed with Seattle. It’s my first time here. It’s hard to find good spots like this within one day,” you admitted. “Do you have more?”

Jay’s eyes widened at you in surprise. He wasn’t expecting you to be grateful at all. He thought you would snap at him, telling him to stay out of your work or something similar to that. But instead you appreciated his efforts. A little smile formed on his lips and he finally was able to look into your eyes.

“Girl, I have an entire album,” he said jokingly, making you laugh. “Just kidding, I have one or two more.” He took his phone back, scrolling through his pictures until he found them. You took a look at them and you immediately liked them.

“So, for the shooting, just be yourself. No fake smiles, no awkward gestures. Just behave naturally and leave the rest to me. I’ll capture the best moments,” you gave him another smile, before realizing that you weren’t supposed to be so friendly to him. He broke your friend’s heart. He didn’t deserve your kindness.

“Ok,” he nodded his head.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” you told him while you waved at the waiter for your check.

You took out your purse from your bag and you were about to pull out a bank note, when Jay suddenly rested his hands on yours, shaking his head. “This is on me. After all, I made you wait,” he said, pulling out his own credit card.

“It’s okay,” you refused politely.



“I insist.”

“I don’t think you’ve told me your excuse yet.” You then said, curiously. “To being late, I mean.”

“It doesn’t matter. Whether it’s a traffic jam or family matters. It’s of no importance, because it the end I made you wait. And I can’t change that no matter what my excuse is,” he told you and you stared at him pleasantly surprised. You liked his answer and his attitude. And after meeting him, you couldn’t fully comprehend why your friend was so unhappy with him. You remembered that she always told you he never felt sorry when he forgot their dates or arrived late. That’s also the reason why she thought he was cheating on her. But it wasn’t that he didn’t apologize. He did. He just didn’t give a lame excuse, because to him the reason as to why he was late didn’t matter much. You shook your head violently, snapping out of your thoughts. ‚No, you don’t find him likeable‘ you told yourself. It’s only an act. He is trying to appear nice and friendly. He wasn’t like that in reality. It was just a disguise to hide his ugly personality.

“Thank you. I’ll be leaving first.” You pushed the chair back and stood up. After bowing at him, you walked out of the café.

~*~



As soon as you unpacked your equipment it began to rain. The whole staff groaned in annoyance, muttering curses under their breath.



“Welcome to Seattle,” Jay joked, lightening the mood.

“Let’s postpone the shooting to tomorrow,” you decided spontaneously and they nodded their head in agreement, packing the stuff again. You let your eyes wander around the streets with your camera still in your hands. Strangely, you really liked this scenery. The rain fitted the mood perfectly. It had its own charm. 

 “Jay I’d like to take some shots,” you told Jay, who was helping the staff to pack their things. The staff members also turned their head to you, stopping their movements.

“Just continue packing,” you motioned them to proceed on. “I just want to try something. If it’s ok for you,” your eyes moved to Jay, looking at him questioningly. 

“Sure. My hair and make up is already done. Might as well make use of it,” he let out a chuckle and walked into the rain. 

“Just walk,” you told him, as you followed him with your camera. “You’re a little bit stiff.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, as he shook his arms and leg, trying to ease his muscles.

You took some pictures, before you decided to stop as the light drizzle turned into a heavy rain shower. Both you and Jay ran towards the roofing that was peeking out of the wall. You let out a long sigh, watching it pour down from the sky.

“Do you like burgers?” He asked out of the blue and you turned your head to him with a bewildered expression on your face. Well, one thing you friend was right about. He was indeed random as hell.

His eyes moved to the entrance door of the little shop you were standing in front of and that’s when you noticed it was actually a burger restaurant.

 “Well, if we’re standing in front of it, we might as well eat something. I bet you’re hungry,” he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Actually I am,” you released a smile.



He opened the door and motioned you to go in. “Ladies first,” he gave you a wink. You chuckled as his actions and entered the restaurant. You didn’t realize how cold it was outside until your glasses steamed up, once you took a step into the restaurant. Taking them off, you wiped the glass with the hem of your t-shirt and put them back on.

While waiting for your orders, you showed him the pictures you had taken today.

“Wow! I look good!” He exclaimed.



“Don’t be so cocky,” you told him teasingly.

“Just kidding. You did an amazing job,” he then said in a serious tone.

“I know,” you replied in a playful manner and stuck your tongue out to him.

It was strange. The more time you spend with him the more you grew to like him. He was half as bad as Ji-Eun always described him to be. Yes, he did have a playful personality, but it was just the right amount. He made other people feel comfortable around him. He lightened up the mood.

All the things she hated about him, were the things you kind of liked about him. Was something wrong about your perception or does every good trait turn into something annoying over the course of time?

“I honestly had my doubts when I heard that you’d be the photographer,” Jay said out of the blue, poking your interest. You turned your attention to him, raising your eyebrows at him, asking him to elucidate his statement.



“I know you’re Ji-Eun’s friend,” he muttered under his breath and your eyes widened at him.



“How…?”



“We met before,” he chuckled.

“No, we didn’t,” you shook your head at him. You were sure you’ve never met him in person before. You never really liked to hang out with couples, so you never joined when she brought her boyfriend with her. Yes, she might have been one of your closest friends, but you despised being the fifth wheel, so you never got to meet her boyfriend.



“You were a bit drunk I suppose, ” he added with a tiny grin on his lips.
 “Seems like more than a bit, because I can’t remember anything!” You looked at him in disbelief. 

“When?”



“It was at a party. She didn’t even know I was there. We managed to go to the same party separately. I was with my friends and she was with hers, but of course we bumped into each other.”



“How can you remember that?”



“I wasn’t drunk,” he laughed. “I didn’t drink that night,” he added.

“Why not? From what I heard you’re the biggest party animal.”



“I don’t drink when I’m with Ji-Eun. She has some bad drinking habits. Somebody has to take care of her,” he laughed light-heartedly. They way he talked about her, seemed as if he had no ill feelings, even after the break up.

“That’s actually cute,” you said your thought out loud. It really was. He didn’t drink, although all of his friends did, only to be sober enough to be able to take care of his girlfriend. It was a sweet and considerate act, but she probably never realized how much he held himself back for her.



“Yea…well,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly as his cheeks blushed in embarrassment. “What I wanted to say is, we met that night.”

“And you thought it would be awkward to work with me, only because I’m her friend?” You lifted up one of your brows at him. You felt a bit offended that he saw you as a person who couldn’t separate personal life from work.



“Not because you were her friend…but because of the things you said to me back then,” he let out an amused chuckle.

“Oh my god…what did I say?” You furrowed your eyebrows together, trying to remember the encounter he was talking about.

“You really wanna know?” A huge grin appeared on his face as he looked at you with an amused expression on his face.



“Do I?” You let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“You cursed at me. You told me to get a grip on myself. To stop acting like a heartless jerk. And that I was an asshole and some other Korean insults that I’m not sure what they mean, but I’m almost certain it wasn’t something nice,” he laughed out loud.

“Oh god…” you hid your face behind your palms, too ashamed to look at him while he continued laughing at you.


“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled under your breath.



“It’s all good,” he chuckled. “I learned some new vocabulary,” he joked and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

“And it’s not like what you said wasn’t true…”



“I tend to say a lot of wise stuff under the influence of alcohol,” you replied in a joking manner, rolling your eyes at yourself.

“Yeah, next time you only need to tone down the cursing though,” he winked at you.



“I’ll work on that,” you chuckled.



~*~

“And? How was working with him?” Ji-Eun asked in a seemingly nonchalant tone, trying not too sound too interested. But it was more than obvious to you that she was probably dying inside from curiosity. After all, she did date him for quite a while. You laughed lightly at her failed attempt of hiding her feelings. You didn’t answer immediately, instead you reached out and grabbed the cup which lay on the table in front of the couch. You sipped the tea slowly, too slow for her liking. From the corner of your eyes you could see that she was growing impatient, yet she didn’t dare to say something. You enjoyed teasing her, because it was so easy to read her. Her face gave it all away. No matter how hard she tried to hide her thoughts and emotions, the expression on her face revealed everything.

After drinking, you put down the cup again, pretending to be thinking, only to tease her for a little longer. “Hmm…let’s just say it wasn’t as bad as I imagined it to be after all you had told me about him,” you replied honestly.

“Wasn’t it difficult working with him?”

“Not really,” you shook your head. “He was very professional.”



“Yeah, well, work is his top priority,” she said in a nagging tone again.

It wasn’t just that. He also treated the staff very kindly and showed genuine appreciation for their hard work, despite the bad conditions. You were one of the top photographers in Korea, so you had worked with all kinds of people. Models, idols, actors and even international celebrities. However it was your first time seeing one of them taking care of the staff members so sweetly like he did. And it wasn’t even part of his job.
 But you didn’t say your praises out loud, as you knew Ji-Eun didn’t want to hear something that, therefore you just nodded your head slightly showing agreement with her statement.

“If you hate him that much, why did you two date for so long?” The question slipped from your mouth. You had always been curious about that. She barely ever said anything nice about him. It seemed as if she was unhappy most of the time, yet they dated for over a year.

“Well…there were also good times,” she mumbled quietly, a little smile slowly covering half of her face, as she recalled some memories. “But if I focus too much on that, I might want him back,” she let out a bitter laughter. Her expression had softened and there was something glistening in her eyes, that looked liked remorse, mixed with a trace of pain.

“He has his charms. That’s why I fell for him. And he is damn good talker, I hope you don’t fall into the same trap,” she said and gave you a wink, as if she was hinting at something. You immediately made a grimace with your face, throwing her a glance filled with disbelief. Shaking your head vigorously, you said, “What? Hell no!”

~*~

You didn’t think you would see him again so soon. Not even a week had passed since your last encounter.
 You both were invited to the same event. It was the anniversary of Vogue Korea. You had done a lot of pictorials for them and you were very close to the editor in chief. And that’s the reason why you were here today: to support her.


Jay was standing at the other side of the room, when your eyes coincidentally met. He immediately released a warm smile and acknowledged your presence with a simple nod. You did the same, before returning your attention back to your interlocutor. Right when the conversation ended one of the photographers asked for a picture. You posed for him and gave him a sweet smile, before bowing to him.



“This time you’re standing in front of the camera, huh?” A male voice remarked playfully and you turned your head to the side, only to be greeted by Jay’s signature smile. You returned his smile and greeted him back with a simple “hey”.

He walked closer to you and casually threw his arms around you, giving you a hug. You were a bit startled by his overly friendly actions. But then you remembered that he grew up in the states, so he didn’t think much of physical contact. Hugging someone was just his way of greeting someone.

“Where’s your camera?” He asked you teasingly.

“I’m the model today,” you replied with a chuckle and winked at him.



“Oh! Can I have a picture with you then?” He let out a cheerful laugh and pulled out his phone, stretching his arms. You tilted your head and flashed a smile whereas he put up a peace sign. He pressed the trigger button several times, before pulling his arm back to look at the pictures he just shot.



“What do you think? We could easily swap roles. I could be a photographer, right? Look at those skills,” he said in a playful tone while he scrolled through the pictures. You laughed at his stupid comment.

“What’s your number, so I can send them to you?” He asked seemingly nonchalant, but you could see a trace of nervousness on his face.



“It’s ok,” you shook your head, politely telling him that you didn’t need those pictures.

He glanced at you briefly, before letting out a tensed chuckle. “Well, seems like my not so subtle move failed.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, unconsciously licking his lips. You could see that his body was tensed, reflecting his disappointment. 
First you gave him a confused look. However, the moment you realized what he was implying, your eyes widened. You were caught off guard and you clearly felt how your cheeks turned into a dark shade of red. 
Following the awkward silence, Jay laughed out loud. “I was just playing around,” he told you, shaking it off light-heartedly.

“Jay…I…uhm,” you stuttered nervously, not knowing how to react.

“Hey, don’t think too much about it. I might have just misinterpreted the signals. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m sorry,” he interrupted you with an apology.

You stared at him silently, before nodding your head at him reluctantly. The truth was, he didn’t misinterpret your actions. You actually did feel attracted to him and maybe you even flirted with him a bit. But whatever this was, it had to end. You couldn’t allow this thing to develop into something more. There was a line you had drawn for yourself. There were plenty of other guys in this world, the ex of your close friend was off limits.

“How’s Ji-Eun doing?” Jay asked out of the blue, as though he also felt guilty for making a move on his ex’s friend. Out of all of the people in the world, why did he had to feel particularly attracted to you. Since the break up he had stayed out of the game. He wasn’t very interested in dating any more. Instead he just wanted direct his entire attention towards his label and music. But after spending time with you he felt a strange excitement and affection. It had been a long time since his body reacted to any girl like it did when seeing you. His body tensed, he felt the blood rushing through his veins, his heart beat doubled, if not event tripled, his pupils dilated and there was a warm feeling in his stomach.

“Great. She is doing great,” you responded almost immediately. You were consumed with guilt. How could consider giving him your number even just for a split of a second? You must have been out of your mind.

I actually didn’t plan to post anything about Jay again any time soon lol, but I found this while going through my old stuff, so I decided to post it instead of just keeping it in my archive.

#jay park #jay park scenarios #khh scenarios #khh imagines #khiphop scenarios #jay park scenario #unspoken rule

[rainbowsockbrian]

A Little Help (a Queen fanfiction)

prologue

disclaimers: a looooot of angst and mental health issues. also some swearing I guess

Number of words: 1157

A/N: This is a little introduction into the OC of this story (since it’s going to be several chapters long, it seemed fitting to choose to design an OC). I hope you guys like it and I hope you guys have patience with me as I try to write towards the more fun and Queen inhabited parts of th story! xx

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I existed in 1973, in South London, in an apartment that looked upon an old factory. They used to weave cotton in there, you know. Lower class laborers would go every day to their badly paid jobs, just so they could afford their small mold-infested houses where they slept with seven people in one room. They worked 12 hours or more a day in an environment that was just a hotspot for contagious, deadly diseases, just so they could feed their children. Children that had to work themselves instead of getting the education they needed otherwise they would die of hunger before they could even die of tuberculosis.  

But that was a hundred years ago. Now I existed in 1973. Not that it was much better, you know. Every day I looked upon that factory and thought of all the people that uselessly laid down their lives, all in the name of making lots of money for the big bosses. Why wouldn’t I just move if this view made me so unhappy? Well, because it was useless. Everywhere I went there was pain and suffering and I wouldn’t have to travel to the previous century to see it. Scattered along the London streets you could find strays living under the dark colored English skies. In the cold winters they would freeze and when the temperature was actually decent, they would beg people for understanding, for a means to survive. But no one even saw them. They were treated as if they were not human beings, as if they were just annoyances on the way to the office. Like mosquito’s zooming around your head.

It was sad enough that there were actually a lot of people like me. People that just couldn’t find the light in every day things. I tried so hard to make them see that happiness, but I was starting to realize they might just have been right. The world really is a ridiculously awful place.

I curled up in my bed grabbing the nearest pillow and pushing it against my body for dear life. The tightening, pushing feeling in my chest didn’t care about my attempts to stop it, to get myself to calm down. I knew this wasn’t real. This dark cloud over my mind was just my brain not producing certain hormones. Hormones that would make you see through a more positive pair of glasses.

I felt my heart beat in my chest and the vibration went through my entire body. My muscles were stiff as stone, all I could do was shake. I couldn’t even lift the glass of water that was beside my bed and spilled cold drops of water all over my sheets and soaking the case files that I had laid down next to me.

I looked upon the smudged letters on the paper and tried to wipe away some of the droplets that had fallen on her name. ‘Eliza’ it read, but I could only read it because I knew it was there. Other people would just see the black stains left by my trembling hands.

My eyes instantly filled with tears as I looked upon the smudged file. I couldn’t help her before and now all hope had disappeared that I could ever possibly help her in the future. But I had to. It was my responsibility. I couldn’t just let her feel how she felt now.  It would turn her into the London street homeless or the nineteenth century factory laborers: alone and forgotten. What if she hurt herself? What if she would feel like the whole world was against her? What if she…

I couldn’t finish that thought before I gasped for air and started crying to the beat of my aggressively fast breath. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t do anything right. My entire live was this heap of chaos, this huge uncontrollable mess. There wasn’t a thing I looked forward to anymore, not a thing that I could do right anyway. I had this big responsibility of looking after people, of making them feel at peace with themselves. But they would always end up worse. They told me it wasn’t about me, but that wasn’t the point. I needed to help them and I couldn’t. They were better off without me.

I threw Eliza’s case file through the room, but I couldn’t quite see where it ended up. Everything was blurry from the tears. My hands found their way up my soaked face trying to keep myself from screaming, from falling completely apart. But the knot in my chest just kept getting tighter and tighter. It felt like a heart attack, but I knew it wasn’t. I couldn’t even keep up trying to count the times I had felt like this. I should be used to it by know, but it wasn’t like that. Every time it got worse, every time it took longer to get away and by now it felt like it never really went away at all.

I couldn’t take this anymore. I needed to get away, to a place where this wouldn’t follow me anymore. I needed it gone. Now. Maybe I should just…

I gasped for air and immediately stopped crying through shock of my own thoughts. How could I have let it get this far? My trembling fingers graced over the last tear that was rolling over my cheek. What in good God’s name was I doing? This couldn’t get any further than this. My grip on the pillow loosened and it fell out of my arms on the pile of case files.

With a huge pull of my legs I forced myself to swing them to the edge of the bed. I took up the horn on the phone and turned at the wheel until I had dialed the phone number. After a few agonizing rings someone answered the phone: ‘Hello, Gallagher household.’ The grumpy low voice felt like a little light at the end of the tunnel and the tears started to silently roll over my face again.

‘Dad…’ I said, my voice felt painful and unused. ‘I-I-I’ was all that left my mouth in soft whisper tones.

The tone in his voice spun around. There was now something of concern detectable in it. ‘What’s the matter, love? You can tell us anything, you know.’ By referring not only to him, but also to my mother, I figured she was listening in on us. I could almost picture her pushing her face against my dads to catch what I was saying. Which wasn’t a whole lot.

I really didn’t want to do this. But it had gone too far now. I had made a promise to myself and I wasn’t about to break it like I had broken all of my promises. I just needed…I needed a little… ‘Help’ I cried out followed by a few sobs. ‘Please help me, dad. I need help.’

#queen #queen band #a little help story #rainbow sock brian speaks #freddie mercury #brian may #roger taylor #john deacon #bohemian rhapsody #fanfiction #queen fanfiction