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shadeysprings · 8 months

Text

YOU

—Art Collector!Steve Kemp x F!Reader

Summary — Your unexpected meeting with the famous art collector takes a dark turn when you learn the secret of his private collection.

Warnings — oral (female receiving), dismembered bodies, disrespect to the dead, entrapment, plots of killing, serial killer vibes, Steve being a calm psycho. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 5.4K

A/N — Story #1 for my FREAKtober Fest. The fic was heavily inspired by the movie itself and House of Wax. I'm happy to finally explore Steve's character in writing and I must say, I enjoyed every bit of it. The title was taken from the song You.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

Shout out to @vellicore and @sgt-seabass for bouncing ideas with me and being my beta.

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

They didn’t come.

It was all you could think about as almost 2 hours had passed since your grad show started. Despite your parents’ — mostly your mom’s — disapproval of pursuing an arts program, you still invited them to the show. You hoped that if they saw what you were truly doing, they would understand your passion for paints and charcoal.

But it was a long shot, and you knew that. Though at least you tried…right?

You envy your classmates who carry bouquets while they present their artwork to their families and strangers alike. You were lucky enough to have a few come by your cubicle, delighted to explain the medium and process of your work. Some seemed genuinely intrigued while others, you can tell, only came by and endured your talk for the free stickers you offered at the end of your spiels.

Another hour passes by and you look up front when you hear an announcement being made by your instructor; a class photo. You’re reluctant to join, seeing no value in such a thing to be done as it’s obvious that once the day ends, they will be strangers once again. But another adamant call from your instructor has you heading to the front, a frown forming on your face when you’re pushed at the back, towered by your classmates—unseen once more.

As parents and several others grab the opportunity to take a photo, your eyes suddenly divert back to your cubicle when you see someone looking over at your main art piece. You can’t put a pin on his face but you know you’ve seen him before.

Once the group photo has ended, you immediately head back to your spot, catching the familiar stranger taking one of your stickers as well as a business card that sits beside it. It’s when you finally recognize him—and you’re in utter shock that he would be looking at your work. He finally notices you, a smile on his face as he holds out his hand.

“Hi.” He begins, “I’m—”

“You’re Steve Kemp.” You finish for him, the confidence you suddenly displayed startling the both of you. But you push on when you see a smile of amusement on his face, taking his hand to shake. “You’re the famous art collector.” You wouldn’t have known it was him with how dressed down he looked with the corduroy jacket and navy jeans, but you’ve seen his face several times in art articles that you wouldn’t miss it.

“I wouldn’t say I’m famous.” He humbles himself but he lacks the conviction to make it believable. “I think I’m just skilled in finding pretty things—like this one.” He gestures towards your charcoal painting, the look of interest evident on his face. “What compelled you to incorporate a whale and an astronaut? What’s the story behind it?”

His question makes you smile. Maybe he is interested, you think to yourself and look towards your artwork before diving deep into your answer.

“The artwork was inspired by the 52 Hertz Whale.” You begin. “Just to give you a little background; out of all the whale species, it’s the only one that makes a call with such a distinct pitch. Researchers had guessed that it could be a hybrid of two whale species but any attempts to search for the creature for further study have failed. Though some have been saying that it’s not a whale but an entirely different animal.

“Loneliness was the main theme of the piece—just like the whale, if it truly exists, it is alone in the vast sea; with no family to call its own and with it being different from the others, no one would listen or understand their cries. Akin to the lonely astronaut floating in the endless void of space. Though the flowers and the seagull represent hope and freedom—that one day, everything they thought to be true would change, that someone is there to listen and welcome them in their arms.”

You feel yourself shiver and your heart race as you end your interpretation. How the art piece truly mirrors your life and your cry for recognition from the people who truly matter. You try your best not to shed the tears that well in your eyes, presenting the collector with a smile and hoping he sees it as passion and confidence.

But the look on his face startles you; there’s no judgment but you see a hint of amusement in his sapphire eyes. You think he’s about to say something, to comment on what you said, instead, he looks back at the artwork, seemingly appraising it.

“How much?” The question stuns you. Did you hear correctly?

“I’m sorry?”

“I want to buy your art piece.” He expounds. “How much are you selling it for?”

That’s the last thing you expected to be asked in a college grad show. Was he seriously wanting to purchase it? You try to answer, to tell him that you’re not really looking for buyers nor expecting to sell any of your work but no words come out of your mouth, still taken aback by his surprising inquiry.

“I don’t—” You stutter. “I’m not really—”

The chuckle he makes has you pulling on the cuffs of your oversized flannel, feeling slightly anxious at the thought that he’s making fun of your state of shock. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says with a smile, one that you mimic if only to ease the tension building within you. “But I am serious. I do want to buy it.”

Still, you don’t know what to say. Do you just give him an amount and call it a day?

“Why don’t you sit on it? Let’s say two days and I can give you a call for your price.” He holds up your business card between two fingers, the smile on his face turning into a playful smirk. “What do you say?”

Under-dressed.

Not that it was a concern you realistically should have but the patrons of the bar made you feel as such with the men clad in suit jackets and the women, either in dresses or whatever you call the style of attire that was classier than your hoodie-jeans-sneakers combo. At least you brought a coat—that’s fancy enough, right?

You nurse your Bellini cocktail and thumb through your phone while waiting for Steve, popping your conversation thread with him every second or two just to assure yourself that he confirmed, or rather, planned the night of drinks to discuss your “Lonely Whale” piece as he coined it. It seemed odd at first but his determination was what compelled you to agree to meet him.

The hiss of the straw fills your ears as you suck the last dregs of your drink. You shouldn’t have come early, you tell yourself, then you wouldn’t need to order another glass to accompany you on your wait.

“Need a top-up?” A familiar voice from behind startles you and you look up to see Steve, decorated in a maroon wool sweater and that tantalizing smile he seems to always have. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was bad coming here to this part of town.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the booth.

You scoot over to give him room, surprised that he didn’t take the one across from you. “Please, don’t be sorry. I wasn’t waiting long.” You assure him with a soft smile, tapping a finger on the rim of your glass. “The drink kept me company.”

“Are they any good?” He asks but he’s already called the attention of a server before you can even reply. He orders a Bloody Mary—quite peculiar, you think, but you’re not one to judge someone's preference. “And the lady will have another, please.”

Silence envelops the both of you as you wait for the drinks to arrive, feeling shy and anxious when he rests his arm against the back of the booth and turns in his seat to face you. You’re not used to being seen yet here’s this man, well-known in the field you didn’t think to excel in giving you such unwarranted attention.

“Uhmm, so I asked my instructor about the painting,” you begin as you try to break the ice, “and he said that—” but stop when he shakes his head and lets out a gentle laugh.

You think he’s playing at your lack of knowledge of these types of transactions that it makes you second-guess your words. Maybe you should have come off more confident and prevented showing him an inkling of your cluelessness. But the smile he sends your way speaks of something different. There is no presence of ill-intent yet you still keep your guard up.

“We can talk business later. I’d like to get to know the artist more first.” He says and for some reason, it could be how comfortable he seems to be around you, that you nod at his request, a soft smile forming on your lips.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

Giggling.

It’s been a while since you’ve done it but you guess after 4 glasses of the Bellini and a sip of his Bloody Mary, anyone would be in a lighter and more carefree mood. Just like how you are.

The anxiety that filled you when you first walked into the bar seems non-existent with how well Steve carries a conversation. He listened to you complain and laughed at your sarcastic comments, throwing back another to keep the exchange alive. There was no dull moment to be recorded, only understanding when you shared the struggle of an art student living in a fast-paced environment. He’s probably the first person in your life who knows almost everything there is to know about you and even if he is a total stranger, he feels more familiar than any other.

The night rolls by quicker than you’d hoped and the next thing you know you’re in his car, the alcohol messing with you as you begin belting out garbled lyrics to an Adele song. You’ve never felt so free and relaxed, and who would have thought you’d find it in someone who simply wants to buy your art project?

You arrive shortly at your apartment building, a curious thought passing through your head as you don’t recall typing in your address in the GPS. But it goes just as quickly as it came when the passenger door is opened and Steve holds out a hand to help you out.

He says your name, the syllables rolling like honey on his tongue and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol or the way the moon shines against his face, but you truly notice how his sapphire eyes glow brighter with how close he stands to you, his cologne permeating your senses and his warmth mixing with yours, keeping away the cold autumn breeze of the night that surrounds the both of you.

“I had a lovely evening.” He breathes, allowing him to take your hand in his. “And I don’t want it to end just yet.”

And it doesn’t.

You invite Steve into your apartment for coffee, something to help completely sober him up and drive home safe. But as soon as you close the door and toe off your shoes, his hands are on your face and his lips capture yours, a soft grunt escaping you when he presses you against the door. You’re too stunned to process that he’s kissing you, only finally realizing it when he breaks the kiss and looks at you with his eyes so blue.

You think he’s about to speak, to apologize for his forwardness, but instead he smiles while his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. You don’t understand what he sees in you to warrant such soft affection, or to even consider you as someone to kiss.

He leans closer once more, this time you sense the apprehension in his movements and with the way his eyes linger on your face. You shut your brain off completely, not wanting reason and rationality to stop whatever force that was pulling you together. So you meet him halfway, hands resting against his chest when you press your lips against his, a moan escaping you as when you feel him pull you further into the kiss.

To say he was a good kisser was an understatement with the way his wet muscle caressed your own and how his lips wrestle you into a passionate exchange. He chuckles when he bumps against a side table while walking backwards, blindly into the living room, hands pawing at each other, groping, touching, and you lift up his sweater as the desire to feel his skin blooms in your head.

But he doesn’t give you that chance as you drop back onto your loveseat couch, Steve’s hands pushing up your hoodie to expose the tank top hidden within. His fingers tickle your skin, teasing, taunting, and in one swift move he pulls down the cups of your bra having your tits spill out from them.

Mewls and moans are the only sounds that leave your lips, coherent words nonexistent with how his lips wrap around a mound, sucking, licking, and dampening the fabric to expose your stiff nipples which he gives his undivided attention to. You try to reach for him, to at least make sure that this is all real and not a dream, but his hands take yours, preventing you from even running your finger through his dark hair, the act only heightening your senses further.

But his venture to your breasts eventually stops and you look down at him when he trails butterfly kisses against your stomach, hands releasing yours only to undo the button and fly of your jeans. The garment flies but your panties stay, and you swear you could almost combust just from the way he looks at you—his eyes swirling with hunger, eagerness, and desperation for a taste.

Slowly, he trails kisses against your inner thighs, lips, and teeth meeting skin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to feel. The nervousness swirls around you like twine, making your heart beat loudly against your chest as everything feels too new, too alien, despite this no longer being your first. But you’ve never encountered anyone as captivating as Steve and you feel as if he would run away once he sees you completely.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers into the air, his warm breath grazing against your heated core.

It’s only then you comprehend what he’s done, your panties pushed to the side to expose you completely before him and all at once you feel your body burn when he laves his tongue against your pussy lips, gentle at first, testing the waters which shift to intent as he pushes them apart with his fingers, your sacred bud caressed by his expert tongue.

You whisper his name as he begins delving into your pussy, strong hands keeping your thighs apart and pushing them down against the couch with his groans of pleasure filling your ears and fueling your desire for him. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair which you end up grabbing as a gasp is pulled from your lungs when he begins to suck your clit.

The room feels like it's spinning with the ecstasy that climbs higher within your body, your senses no longer feeling like your own as Steve pushes on with his pursuit, his mouth dancing beautifully against your clit, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. But he stops, and a small wave of panic arises in your chest. Though it washes away like footprints on the sand when he ventures lower, his thumb taking purchase of your clit, rolling and adding pressure while his mouth ventures lower, teasing your slit at first before slowly pushing inside.

Oh, how your body sings. Your back arches from the coach and you call out his name, louder this time, turning into a moaning mess as his regard to your cunt never wavers. You then feel the dam filling up at the pit of your stomach and all you can do is buck your hips against his mouth, encouraging—no—pushing him to pull you over the edge.

“Steve—” It’s all you manage to say, your breath catching in your throat.

His actions then become erratic, as if he can feel you teetering towards your peak, pulling you more to his mouth and devouring you whole. Sloppy, wet sounds of his mouth echo from below your waist, Steve letting out a low and guttural growl which only sets you ablaze. His thumb pushes more onto your clit, the pressure digging into your pelvis and finally having the dam at the pit of your abdomen burst.

Your body shakes and you grab onto Steve as your pussy walls flutter from your release, choking a sob as your sweet essence flows out of you. His awaiting mouth then laps each and every drop you offer, the sensation making you shiver yet at the same time cocoons you in euphoric bliss.

The alcohol in your system then appears, mixing with the pleasure that continues to loom around you, and your eyes begin to droop, a smile forming on your lips. Your limbs ache deliciously, cunt buzzing from the orgasm that has taken over. You feel tired all of a sudden but happy at the same time and you forget all, even Steve, as you’re ready to end the night with such a good note.

But a tap on your thigh pulls you from the serene moment, startling slightly to see Steve looking down at you with a grin painted on his face. “Stay awake, Baby.” He says, his hand running up your side and grabbing the hem of your hoodie. “I’m not yet done with you.”

Nervous.

It’s all you feel as you stand outside of Steve’s home—if you could even call it that. With the modern exterior and floor-to-ceiling windows of the one-story home, you’d think you’re about to enter a museum. But it’s only reasonable for him to have such a lavish abode; he is an art collector after all.

“You okay?” You turn your head to the side to face him when he stands beside you, his warmth brushing against your skin as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“A bit—but more excited really.” You tell him, the giddiness of seeing his private collection dominating the restlessness you felt earlier.

“Only the people who matter have seen it.” The smile he gives you is so contagious that you give one back and follow him inside his home.

After the night spent at your apartment, your life slowly revolved around Steve. Mornings begin and nights end with him and his attentiveness—one that you found more endearing than suffocating, as what some people you assume would say if they knew of your relationship.

You don’t even know if you both have a relationship as neither of you discussed anything about labels, simply enjoying each other’s company. But you know that Steve has rooted himself deep in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try if anything comes that would sever you both, you’d have a hard time letting him go. Steve is the only one who has truly seen you and accepted you as you are.

A chill brushes your skin when you pass through the threshold of his home which has you pulling your knitted jacket more around your frame for warmth, and the first thing you see are the gallery lights mounted on the wall, with each one shining down on art pieces of different forms. The ones that stand by the door are wax figures of a woman’s pair of legs, one on each side. You look at it closely, the craftsmanship so intricate that you’d think it was real. The ones that come after it are different sets of arms and hands of women, again, each one posed differently and elegantly, as if welcoming you further down the hall.

It gives you pause with how unusual of a collection it is—women’s body parts—but you suppose that the world of art is filled with oddities. There was even one you heard who collects glass eyeballs, not caring if it was worn or not.

What greets you next are several paintings—if you can even call it as such—that litter the wall just the same, though you’ve never seen anything like it; one is of a canvas that houses different strands of hair that form into waves. You’re in awe with how they mimic the raging seas and how detailed and time consuming it must have been to complete. There’s even an image of a boat topped over it, as you inspect closely, you assume is made of leather.

There’s another like it, though this seemed more like a showcase of all types of tresses, spaced out perfectly in rows of five. Each one portrayed a distinct person, with colors ranging from blonde to black and textures from curly to the straightest you’ve seen. The urge to touch it grows strong, wanting to check if they’re real or not.

“They’re real,” Steve answers your unspoken question, and you turn back to face him, feeling shy all of a sudden when you see him staring at you. “I call it live art.”

“You made this?”

“Oh, no.” He smiles as he nears the artwork, Steve’s hands tucked inside his pockets while he looks up at it. “I had it made. Though I did provide the materials—volunteers donated the hair.” His explanation has you thinking; you never knew people would donate something so personal for art. “I’m hoping to add more to the collection—a prized one that can be my center of attention.” He says and you catch him looking at you from your periphery.

“What kind of prized piece?” You ask, curiosity nipping at the back of your head.

“Something I could never get tired of looking at.” The smile he gives you sends a chill up your spine but your mind flows out into a daze when he steps forward and takes your face between his hands, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Like you.” He whispers and you can’t help but feel your face heat up with how beautiful he makes you feel.

“Come on. There’s more in the living room and I wanted to show you where I would place your painting.” He says, giving you one last kiss before taking your hand and leading further inside. But you don’t miss the piece that sits just at the end of the hall; a torso of a woman, the composition almost similar to Alexndros’ Venus de Milo, except this one was missing its head.

The living room is a sunken living room and it’s just as exquisite as the front of the house with paintings and figurines scattered in an organized fashion. Two couches sit on either side of a low table with a small cart that holds an array of spirits. You look around, mesmerized at the beauty he keeps within but stop when you notice a small greek style column sitting in the corner of the room.

“What’s that?” You ask, pointing at the unusual fixture.

“That’s just a chair a friend of mine made.” He responds while pouring the both of you some drinks. “It’s pretty cozy even if it’s made out of stone. Why don’t you try it out? Pretend you’re an art piece.” He urges and the giddiness you feel allows you to humor him.

Soft jazz music then begins to play as you run your hand against the top, having a feel of the material before you take a seat, grabbing onto the sides to properly set yourself on top of it. The smile you catch on Steve’s face is wide as he approaches you and hands you your drink, his hand reaching up to caress your face.

“You look perfect on it.” He sips on his drink and so do you.

You can’t help but look at his eyes, how soft they look yet full of amidst the muted lighting that surrounds the both of you. You feel his hands continue to linger on your skin, resting gently on your shoulder with his thumb caressing the expanse of your neck.

“Dance with me.”

It’s all he says and you don’t have time to respond when he takes the glass from your grasp, setting both of them on the shelf that stands nearby and he reaches for you, his hands taking yours and placing them over his shoulders while his own finds purchase around your waist.

It feels like you’re walking on clouds with how he sways the both of you, his movements in sync with the music that fills the air. He holds you close, feeling his fingers drumming lightly on your back and how your feet follow him aimlessly, blindly with each step he makes. You’re suddenly aware of the intimacy that slowly winds the both of you, much different from the times he’s slept on your bed, and you feel shy, eyes casting down to stare at the edge of his navy turtleneck.

“Don’t hide from me, Baby,” He breathes softly, tilting your head back when he pinches your chin and feeling the warmth of his breath ghost against your lips. “I want to see you.”

Giddy.

It’s the only feeling you describe as soon as you wake up, your body sore but in a good way and the sheets atop the mattress warm, not just because of you but from the man that sleeps soundly at your side. You turn to face Steve and examine his face, his beautiful pointed nose and his dark hair askew from the pillow underneath his head.

You couldn’t believe your luck that someone like him would find interest in someone like you. You must have done something good in your previous life to feel such happiness that the neglect and disapproval you once received from the people you expected to love you is being provided by someone you’ve barely known for a week.

Good things come to an end, you hear the pessimist in you say but you push it down, deep down where you cannot hear its cry. You’re going to enjoy this, whatever this is, and if time comes that it should indeed come to a stop—well, you’ll cross the bridge when you get there.

You move to cuddle closer to Steve, wanting to feel more of his warmth but it’s interrupted by your need for relief that you settle on placing a kiss on his forehead before turning to leave the bed and find the restroom.

Washing your hands when you finish, you find a robe hanging at the back of the door and boldly take it, putting it around you to shield you from the cold that continues to circulate within the house and venture back to his room—back to Steve’s arms. Except the lone light that shines in the darkness catches your eyes and you glance towards the bedroom. You don’t want to be caught snooping but the call of the void is too strong for you to ignore.

Silently, you pad down the hall and find yourself face to face with a staircase that leads to a closed door. Must be the basement, you think to yourself, taking one step at a time, you descend to your destination. You hesitate to hold the knob, not wanting to spoil your welcome but you soldier on, pushing through the barrier.

A row of yellow muted light illuminates the entryway, and you see nothing but several black barrels neatly pushed against the wall and a few scrubs hanging from mounted hooks. You thought you would see more artwork but are left disappointed, deciding to turn back but the white light at the end of the room stops you, curiosity once more taking over your senses.

Fear then grips you tight when you step into the light, hands flying to your mouth and a gasp unwillingly escaping you when you see a woman laid down on a metal table with her lower half missing and her head free of her scalp. What hangs on the wall makes your stomach turn even further, body parts—arms, legs and a severed head coated in something you can only assume to be wax.

You run. Your heart beats hard against your chest as you make it back again to the door and close it as quietly as you can, not wanting to awaken your host—a monster you never thought him to be. Carefully, though quickly, you climb the steps and the only thing you could think of is to leave and run as far as you can where he cannot find you.

Relief slowly washes over you when you get to the last step. Now all you have to do is go—call the authorities and—your thoughts take a dive when you feel someone grab you by the waist, trapping your arms along with it and a hand covering over your mouth as well as your nose.

“Where were you, Baby?” Steve’s calm voice forms from behind and your panic only rises further. You struggle against his hold, flailing as much as you can for him to let you go but he’s too strong and you feel the tears spill from your eyes as you think that this is the end. He’s caught you. You’re going to die.

“You never should have seen that.” He simply says and you grunt when a stabbing pain forms on your neck, a cool sensation flowing through your veins.

It’s then that he lets you go, your hand flying to where you felt the sting before turning to look at him. What did he do to you? You notice the syringe in his hand. Is it poison? Your vision almost instantly goes blurry, your limbs heavy and you drop to the floor, eyes cast to the ceiling as you try to make out your current state. The last thing you see is Steve, a sinister smile on his face and incoherent words coming from his lips before everything goes dark.

You’re dead.

It’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you come to. Everything slowly comes into clarity; the room you’re in is somewhere you’ve not been and the cool metal you feel around your ankle only solidifies the fact that he’s successfully trapped you in the hell he dwells in.

A door opens and closes and you curl up small on the bed you lay in to hide yourself from him. You’re crying once again a multitude of emotions surge from within—is it fear? Hopelessness? Anger? Towards him for lying to you or to yourself for believing him.

“I never wanted you to find out this way.” He sighs. “I never wanted you to find out at all.”

“Are you going to kill me?” You can’t help but ask, even though you know what the answer is.

“Not yet.” His calm in his voice brings a chill to your spine. “Despite what you believe, I meant what I said; you matter to—”

“Stop lying to me!” You shout and sit up from the bed, grabbing the pillow on the bed and throwing it at him. “Why are you doing this?! What did I do to deserve this?! Why me?!” You shout, the anger that was settling in your bones turns into a raging fire. You go to lunge for him, wanting to rip his skin with your bare hands but the cuff on your foot stops you, making you fall to the ground in front of him.

He tuts and you see his leather shoes in front of you. A groan then leaves your tongue when he grabs you by your face, your hand taking hold of his wrist as you try to pull away from him. But he only pinches tighter, making you shout in pain that fades all too quickly when he shakes you and makes you face him dead in the eyes.

“The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.” He snips. “I enjoy you a lot—don’t make me kill you so soon.”

“Just fucking do it!” You spit. “Do it! Kill me now!”

The laugh he gives you is menacing. He shakes his head, his other hand moving to run his finger on the side of your face. You see the darkness swirling around the sapphires of his eyes and you question yourself why, for the many times he’s stared at you, you’ve never seen it before.

“Soon.” He promises. “For now, I’ll keep you. I don’t mind that column being empty just a little longer.”

#steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x f!reader #dark steve kemp #dark!steve kemp #you #fresh #fresh the movie #sebastian stan characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

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mxsonxmountx · 1 year

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Mason Mount AU: Flirty in the comments

Youruser: monthly photo dump darlings x

Masonmountpriv: can you do hard things? Because if so, you can do me

↪️is that how you win over the ladies mase, try harder x

reecejames: …..

thiagosilva: the boy is trying to win her over, and this is the things he says… you need help 🤣😭

jazbenham: oh dear, oh dear, oh dear

masonmountpriv: leave me alone I thought it was good okay 😭

rlc: mason!!!!!!

Masonmountpriv: I wish I was your mirror, so I can look at you every morning

↪️this was terrible, but you’re slowly improving… somehow

Woody: I can’t believe you used this one… I told you not too

declanrice: just please stop, this is embarrassing but also highly amusing to watch you fail. youruser, sorry about him

↪️it’s okay dec, I’ve had worse, bless the poor boy

Masonmountpriv: people call me money mase on the pitch, but you can call me yours

↪️okay, this is better… not massively but, better

kepaarrizabalaga: now this is okay, mason, you are improving. We like to see it

jazbenham: this has to be the best one you’ve used

youruser: masonmountpriv how about a date?

↪️masonmountpriv: IT WORKED!

↪️I’m only doing it because I feel sorry for you

↪️masonmountpriv: you do it out of pity, although we know that you won’t be going home alone after

↪️jazbenham: MASON

↪️declanrice: oh dear

Liked by: youruser: declanrice, woody and 147,809 others.

masonmount: Monthly mount photo dump darlings x

youruser: so not only have you flirted your way in my post, you now steal my caption…

↪️stealing it, like how I’m going to steal your heart soon

↪️youruser: oh you can try mount, you can try

woody: swear I’ve seen that caption before

↪️youruser: oh I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed

youruser: shame you couldn’t be original x

reecejames: I’m sick of this, can you hurry up and just date already

↪️kepaarrizabalaga: I second this

↪️Benchilwell: I third this

↪️declanrice: the boy doesn’t stop

kaihavertz29: bro this is too much, we can’t deal with it anymore. Just date already

↪️masonmount: she’s playing hard to get

↪️youruser: you use shit chat up lines

↪️kaihavertz29: oh doesnt he just

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kithtaehyung · 2 years

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drabble: you’re next (3tan) (m) | myg

drabble: you’re next | part one pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: three tangerines | fall drabbles masterlist | submit! rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after you get the texts from yoongi, you continue to keep goading him. little do you know that he’s still at the festival. because your brother is the only one that left. note: so… this is part 2 to the first fall drabble apple bobbing bc of this post. y’all are spoiled af what am i gonna do with you all lolll note 2: if you haven’t read the three tangerines series yet, i highly encourage you to! the side characters would make a lot more sense :D also this is unedited LOL warnings: language, dirty talk, fingering, tae is best boy, oral (f rec), haunted house, yoongi on the phone lol i’m sorry, spanking, edging, yoongi is rude?? drop date: october 13th, 2022, 9:07pm est word count: 4.5k lolll

Yoongi [8:20pm]: You’re next :))

Shaken, you stash your phone, a large hand clapping on your shoulder the second thing that makes you yelp.

Tae’s concern is ruined by a giggle, “You okay? This room’s empty.”

“Says you,” you scoff, “Y’all just went too fast.”

He looks around, taking in the boarded up walls and funhouse mirrors shrouded in dark cloth. More random roars and screams echo throughout the building, but neither of you are deterred.

“Well. Unlike you, I’m not scared of my reflection.”

Ass! Feigning a pout, you charge ahead of his laughs, “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go.”

“What did he send you?”

“Huh?”

Taehyung easily catches up to your still form with confident strides, pointing at your bag. “I saw that,” he reveals through a smirk. “No way it could’ve been anyone else.”

Damn it.

The group behind you sounds close, so you and Tae make your way through a hallway of webs while you admit,

“He sent a fucking photo.”

“Of himself?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung brushes a dangling cobweb as he has to crouch, voice is so deep that you have to lean in to hear, “That’s actually shocking.”

“I know!” you exclaim in a whisper. “That’s why I’m slightly freaked out.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“He—Fuck!”

The puff of air that shoots right into your side makes you collide into your friend, and he catches you with strong arms while blowing out amusement.

“Shut up.”

“I’ve never seen you this jumpy!” He lets out another laugh as you leave the air-filled corridor and enter another dark room. “It’s so cute.”

“I just. He just.” You sigh, fishing out your phone to show him the thread because you can’t bring yourself to repeat it out loud.

And as soon as Taehyung sees both the picture and the text, his face releases a whole flurry of butterflies across your chest.

“That’s the scariest thing I’ve seen all day.”

“See? What the fuck.”

“You’re in more trouble than I thought.”

You groan, pocketing your phone and hearing Yuri’s scream a few rooms away, the telltale giggles following right after.

Dom also cusses so loud that both you and Taehyung burst into laughter yourselves.

Maybe Yoongi’s texts showed up on their phones, too. Since that’s the only frightening thing you can think of right now.

“What’re you gonna say?”

“Absolutely nothing,” you claim, eyes darting to the hisses and squawks around the glowing area. There’s no way you can respond right now, especially since he’s walking around with your brother.

“Why not?”

“You know exactly why!”

“Damn,” Taehyung comments, drawing out the syllable to try and guilt you. “He eyefucks you and you leave him hanging…”

“Tae!”

“I’m sorry, did we look at the same picture? He even—”

You launch yourself in an attempt to cover his mouth, but he easily swats your arms away.

“He”—a muffled giggle—“Even gave you tongue—”

Your groan is more like a cry this time as you shut your eyes in defeat, the picture already burned so hard into your vision that you still see it.

Because fucking hell, Yoongi knows what he did.

Footsteps and chatter approach from behind again, so you and Tae move forward while steam escapes your ears.

“Just send one thing.”

“No.”

“He clearly sent that without remorse,” he notes, and the bubbling sounds of a cauldron are all you get in warning before a humongous witch charges out of nowhere.

Shrieking.

Both you and Tae yell in response, amused at how smushed together and bent backwards you are when the worker retreats into her station.

“I did not expect her to be seven feet tall.”

“I’m gonna ask her out.”

After you head into the next room—adrenaline spiked into the ceiling—your friend reminds you of his persistence.

“Humor me,” he starts, and you tilt your head with lips pursed. “He’d lose his shit!”

“What do I even send?”

“Whatever’s in your heart.”

“Wow.”

“Or your p—”

“Stop.”

While he laughs, you spot a tiny sign hovering over a dark door on your right.

Bathroom, you assume? Maybe for costume changes.

“Okay, fine,” you relent, taking out your phone and knowing this could be a super bad idea. “But I’m only sending this because I’m tired of you.”

“Whatever. You love being goaded.”

Staring at your thread, you walk forward with tiny steps, wondering what the hell to say.

His picture is certainly not helping.

The only thing you can come up with is your default. The same damn concept you fell back on at the booth. Because if your earlier taunt resulted in whatever fresh hell this was, you’re highly interested in seeing what your text will bring.

Huffing a frown at Taehyung, you show him what you wrote.

And he gives you a triumphant smirk in return.

You [8:30pm]: do it u won’t🙄

After you get through the haunted house, the street is a lot more crowded, with lights illuminating everyone’s heads and distinct festival sounds embedding in your ears.

Since all of you decide that the adrenaline and scare-induced laughter will quickly turn into hunger, you head to one of the food stalls calling your noses. Which is great timing because you need a good distraction.

Because ever since you sent the text, you’ve been checking your phone periodically, both relieved and anxious that Yoongi hasn’t replied. Like your mind can’t decide which outcome is better.

It’s only after you order and stand next to Tae that you feel a message come through.

And suddenly your bag weighs a ton.

You give your friend a look before you check it, and he watches as you clutch your phone a tad tighter.

Yoongi [8:45pm]: Wanna bet?

You [8:45pm]: omg u know u can’t

Yoongi [8:45pm]: Bet I can

What the hell? If he’s around your brother being this brazen then you’re full-on dreaming.

The wind picks up, and you shiver as you type your next message.

You [8:47pm]: ???

Yoongi [8:48pm]: He left lol. I’m with Jimin now

Oh.

Your brother left?

And Yoongi stayed?

…That changes things.

You [8:50pm]: just y’all?

Yoongi [8:52pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [8:53pm]: Rather it be just us though :\

Your phone damn near falls out of your hand.

Because this cannot be happening.

What kind of alternate reality did you step into? Why is he suddenly so forthcoming you want to hurl your device into the nearest bin?

Whatever it is, he needs to quit before you run out of air.

Humming, you grapple onto reality before diving into conversation with Tae.

“It’s just him and Jimin now.”

“Now what?”

“I dunno!” you whisper, appalled that he’s left you out to dry in the cold. “You’re the one that put me up to this.”

He laughs. “I just wanted to see what he’d say. I didn’t expect to get this far.”

Groaning, you look down at your texts, wondering what the hell to do.

You [8:55pm]: just us?🥺

Yoongi [8:56pm]: Acting cute won’t work today, doll

Yoongi [8:57pm]: Not after what you pulled

Well.

Shit.

Everyone else at this festival be damned.

You [9:00pm]: i don’t recall a thing

Yoongi [9:05pm]: Uh huh

Yoongi [9:05pm]: You’re just making it worse for yourself

As your other friends get their food, you watch them go to a table before you sigh,

“Wish I could see him.”

The words come out so naturally that you even surprise yourself.

And Taehyung’s smile can be heard in his voice when he replies,

“Then do that.”

“Not here,” you mutter. “There’s way too many people around.”

“So?” When you shoot him a rueful look, he cocks a brow. “Everyone’s just enjoying themselves. I can sit with them if you wanna find him.”

Your heart skips right into Tae’s hands.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Keep it quick, though,” he says, looking towards the table your friends huddle around, eating and finally quiet. “Even though they look beat. They could still be down for stuff.”

“We stayed up so late last night,” you explain through a smile. “Movie marathons are no joke at Reia’s place.”

“Wow, thanks for the invite.”

“We thought—Well, I thought you were busy.”

“Mm. Perhaps.”

You don’t know what you’d do without Taehyung in your life. If only you were able to pack him in your car to keep during your university days.

But alas. He’s here now. And being the most supportive of your sneaky ways as he can be.

After you go up to get your food, you hold the container in one hand while messaging. “Lemme see what he says.”

You [9:07pm]: prove it then

It doesn’t take long for him to answer.

Yoongi [9:09pm]: You sure?

You [9:09pm]: i got 15 min tops

Yoongi [9:10pm]: Lmaoo that’s plenty

Yoongi [9:11pm]: Call me when you dip

Can he get any more insufferable today?

That’s plenty? For what!

Nerves buzz as you and Tae make a plan before you walk off, hoping at least Dominique understands where you’re going.

Well. You’re gonna get an earful later either way. May as well make this fifteen minutes count.

But when you’re a safe distance away in the crowd, you ring him up, wondering what could possibly await you on the other side of the line.

“Hi.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“By the food trucks.”

“Head towards the haunted house. There’s gonna be a churros stall on your left.”

A churros stall? You didn’t expect that.

“Okay.”

“You want anything?”

“No, it’s okay! I just got food.”

“K. We’ll be here.”

How you can instantly spot Yoongi in a crowd is always gonna be a mystery.

Even with his hood up and draped in dark colors, your eyes zero right onto him, watching as he grabs something from a vendor that turns incredibly shy.

And Yoongi swivels in time to see your smile of understanding, too far away to catch the way you cease breathing.

Which is good. He doesn’t need his ego inflated even more.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Looking around, you take in the rest of the line and wonder, “Where’s Jimin?”

“Getting something else.”

Oh.

He leads you around the corner, settling into a space between the stalls only occupied by trash cans and trodden leaves. A tiny nook where you can pretend that you’re just hanging out with Yoongi like it’s the most normal thing.

And suddenly it’s your favorite area of the festival.

“Those smell so good,” you notice, mouth salivating as you lean on the warm side of the churro booth.

“Want some?”

“Nah. This was expensive enough.” Grabbing the wrapping, you look around at the people passing by.

Did you say no because you feel jittery enough standing here with him? Maybe. Because the butterflies in your stomach aren’t just from getting to spend alone time outside. Their wings are still dusting bits of paranoia along your rib cage.

“Suit yourself,” Yoongi tuts, getting a full bite while observing the night crowd. The crunch is enough to make you regret ordering the subpar meal you just paid for.

After the two of you get a few bites in, the sounds of cooking and games and voices fill the silence.

Before Yoongi disrupts with two words.

“Gimme some.”

“What?”

“Your food. Feed me some.”

You gawk, almost dropping the bite in your hand. “Umm, no?”

“Come on,” he persists with a lift of his cocky chin. “No one’ll notice.”

“Are you serious?” Alarmed, you swing your neck around to see if there’s anyone you suddenly know, senses on high alert. “People could see us—”

He.

Just took what was in your hand.

With his mouth.

As you still feel the cold air where his lips touched your fingers, he swallows in triumph. “Said you were next.”

This entire night is a fever dream.

You don’t even know what to say, much less do. Your head is literally quite empty, and any brain cell you can find seems to be focused on one thing and one thing only.

“Yoongi, I swear…”

“What?” He laughs. “Thought I was talking about something else?”

“I…” Blinking, you look at his unfinished churros. “Didn’t know what to think, honestly.”

He hands you his container while taking yours. “Didn’t even send a pic back,” he points out, and you think you hear a smidge of pout in his words.

Of course you weren’t gonna. But you only offer an excuse, “It was dark in there.”

“Just one,” he says, leaning onto the stall next to you. “Just once.”

After a moment of silence, he tacks on,

“Of your ass.”

“Yoongi.”

He’s laughing! You’re drowning in complete shock and suffering and he’s full on elated.

You’ve never seen him like this. Even if you were mad at him, you’d still smile. “What’s up with you today?”

Is it the season? The weather change? There has to be something about today that’s responsible for his mood. And you want to thank whatever it is until it gets tired of you.

Yoongi just looks at you with creased eyes before huffing. “You really got me at that damn booth.”

Oh. That’s not possible.

There’s no way all of this is because of something you said.

You look away with a shy curve of your lips. “Yeah, well. You got me, too.” Turning, you poke his chest with a nail. “So this isn’t over.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

You expected something completely different to happen in these fifteen minutes, but you’re enjoying yourself as is, just hanging out and eating outside.

And Yoongi’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

Any amount of time to witness him like this is already worth it.

Your bag buzzes, and both you and Yoongi look down at the sound.

Taeee😪 [9:17pm]: Take your time. They left and I’m gonna do the haunted house with Jimin.

Wait.

They left?

How the hell did Tae swing that?

You [9:18pm]: they left??

Taeee😪 [9:17pm]: Yeah. I told them I’d take you back to Reia’s when we were done here.

Ten-thousand lunches.

You owe him ten-thousand, very good lunches.

Every single thought in your body enlarges, crowding you to the brim with excitement and outright giddiness.

Time. You get so much more time.

But the logical side of your brain is quick to remind you: you’re still out in public. There’s a chance that people can still see you out with Yoongi, especially the people looking to hang out with him, too.

All this opportunity, but what do you do? What even can you do?

“Need to go?”

You quickly tear away from your phone, and the guarded look on Yoongi’s face makes you feel the guiltiest you’ve felt in awhile. Because you’re positive your expression is giving away the conflict raging through your brain.

“No, I…”

You didn’t like that look. Not one bit.

But what do you do? What can you and Yoongi… do…

Looking back down at your text, you realize.

The answer is right there.

Immediately, you snap your gaze back to him and blurt, “Do the haunted house with me.”

“Huh?”

“Or, us. Jimin and Tae are going.”

Yoongi switches from wary to defeated when he sighs. “Don’t make me do that.”

“Why not?”

When he looks away, his lips slip into a curve of regret. “Cus fuck that. But I’m gonna if you want me to.”

Your heart throbs.

As much as you wanna see him go through the house, the ultimate plan is something else entirely. But that’ll be kept under wraps to keep it a surprise. “I’ll protect you,” is all you decide to pledge.

“I wasn’t kidding. I’ll swing.”

“No need! It’s not even a scary one.”

He gives you a look of disbelief. “If you’re lying I’m leaving your ass.”

“Rude? Trust me.”

You await his answer, not wanting to push too hard if he really doesn’t wanna do it. Obviously, you don’t wanna unearth any potential trauma or whatever. You’re totally fine coming up with something else.

But he just aims slitted eyes your way. “Fine.”

Laughing at his fake leer, you tell him he’ll be alright.

If you can get him into the haunted house, you’re golden.

All you gotta do is get him past the witch.

After twenty minutes—thanks to a Jimin that roped you into the front of the line—you’re almost there.

But the journey proves just as naughty as your destination.

“Yoongi!” you whisper, moving your ass away from another playful grab. “Stop!”

His laughs in the dark are much more potent. “Why.”

“What if someone sees?”

“All they’d do is agree with me,” Yoongi confidently answers in a low tone, and you can only see a sliver of his side profile thanks to his hood still up. “It’s too nice in that skirt.”

If only you remembered the webbed hallway as well as you recalled the hidden bathroom’s location. You ended up getting the same puff of air on your ear, which caused you to flinch sideways into him.

But unlike Taehyung who just laughed, Yoongi seized the opportunity to also hold you against him before letting go, slapping your ass to move you forward.

And paired with the darkness, your weak scoldings have only made him bolder since then. You yourself almost break before you even make it to the witch’s room.

But you hold on, cackling as much as the towering woman yourself when you see Yoongi’s fists challenge her rapid approach. When you feel him clutch your arms while trying to suppress a grin, you only laugh even harder, loving how unfiltered his actions are.

It’s almost like…

There it is. The tiny bathroom sign behind a wall of curtains in the next room.

Yoongi’s already surveying the dark for another scare, completely oblivious to your devious plan. “I swear if there’s something in here, too—”

“Come here,” you whisper, grabbing his hand.

He only looks at the contact before eyeing you, and you bite your lip to keep yourself in check, not saying another word while leading him to the hidden door.

When he catches on, the look he gives you is devilish.

“Nu uh.”

Your curve only gets wider as you check the narrow space between the curtains at the door, parting the heavy material enough to get by and head into the empty restroom.

Aside from knocking on Yoongi’s door and asking him to fuck you, this is the second most daring thing you’ve done in awhile. And your stomach has almost the same type of twists as before. Just minus the fear of rejection and broken self-confi—

Closing the door behind him in a rush, Yoongi twists your body to pin you against the nearest wall, not even bothering to turn on the light.

Which makes his low, gravelly question twenty times worse,

“You plan this?”

Heart pulsing wild, you squish your lips before admitting, “Maybe.”

“That’s hot as fuck.”

Your mouth is smushed as you bang against the plaster, and you run your fingers along his neck while licking cinnamon and sugar off his tongue.

“Someone might use it, though,” you warn between hard kisses. “We can’t be here long.”

He wedges a thigh in between your legs before giving your side a spank. “Then hurry up. No shy shit this time.”

Moan muffled, you roll against him, the thrill of being exactly where you shouldn’t be fueling your thrusts.

Because you shouldn’t have done this.

Oh god, why the hell did you sneak in here employees could come in at any se—

“Is that all you got, baby girl?”

Fuck, his voice got a lot closer to your ear.

When you swallow, he continues with an insult,

“What a shame. Thought I taught you better than that.”

“Fuck—”

Yoongi grabs the back of your neck before devouring your lips again, tongue flicking yours while a hand wanders along your leg, your side, your ass. When he clutches what he can in his palm, he guides you in a rhythm that matches the thrusts of his mouth, and you practically melt right onto his jeans.

“There you go,” he praises, chuckling right after. “Goddamn, I wanna taste you.”

His name escapes you in a gasp. Because you feel like you’re already pushing it as is. Shit, you need to wrap this the hell up.

Shivering with nerves, you whisper, “I don’t think we can.”

If only your body followed the same rules as your brain. It’s only staying still as Yoongi loops a finger into the hem of your bottoms, shivering when he tugs you forward, and responding when he claims your lips again.

“We can.”

“You sure?”

“This won’t take long.”

His last kiss steals not only your breath, but any other arguments on your lips.

“Okay,” you whisper, hearing the sounds of the haunted house right outside the door. “Okay.”

“Now cover your mouth, doll,” he orders while dropping to the ground. Swinging a shaking leg over his shoulder, he sounds frighteningly close to your soaked panties. “You’re gonna scream.”

“We—”

Your only other warning is a finger shifting your thong—hot, determined tongue replacing it while a rough hand holds your leg in place.

Holy fuck.

You buck forward on contact, yell pushing through your fingers as a strong hum instead.

And he doesn’t say anything else as he feasts, licking along your cunt and grabbing the side of your ass with his free hand. Darkness takes away your vision but heightens everything else, and you’ve never heard dirty sounds so crystal clear.

He’s right. This isn’t gonna take you much longer.

It’s more than obvious he’s done this countless times before.

Your legs dissolve into jelly when he sucks, but you feel your knees give out when the lightest of kisses are planted against your nub. Again. And again.

When did your fingers get tangled in his hair? When did your leg lock so hard you don’t feel it anymore? You don’t know. You don’t care. All you know is to rock forward, controlled by the single string that is his tongue.

Until he adds two knuckles, rubbing them against your clit and making you flinch.

A dark rumble thrums against your cunt, and you feel his body shift to… a standing position?

No no no.

“That’s all you get, baby girl.”

“What?”

“You said we had to hurry.”

“You said it wouldn’t take long!”

“Did I lie?”

“Yoongi,” you breathe out, ragged. “I’m so close, fuck.”

“Damn.” He brushes wet knuckles against your lips, and you groan at the taste. “That sucks.”

“Yoongi, I swear to god.”

“You said we had to go.”

“I… You…” Your cunt is throbbing so hard you feel like crying. “Don’t make me do it myself.”

He gets in close, heady scent of his breath pooling across your face. “Poor baby,” he teases, one finger jolting you upward with a single, soft touch to your slit. When he slaps your cunt instead of anything else, you whine before he slips vengeance in your ear,

“You get me wet, I do the same. It’s only fair.”

Your fingers find his sleeves immediately. “This isn’t fair and you know it.”

“You’re the one that brought me in here,” he parries, and you know for a fact he’s smirking. “And I told you it wasn’t over.”

“Please.” You try your absolute hardest to tighten your weak hold. “We don’t have time to fight.”

“Fight about what?”

“Make me come, baby,” you plead with your whole chest, not wanting to play a single game anymore. “I’ll do anything, just—”

A knuckle grazes your clit, and your moan isn’t stifled by a hand this time.

Oh shit that had to be too loud—

A large palm covers your mouth before two fingers slip between your folds, and your second scream is thoroughly muffled.

“You’re lucky I fucking love when you come,” Yoongi rasps in your ear, his fingers hitting spots that light the room with stars. “That’s what’s unfair.”

Your eyes squeeze shut while you thrust against his digits, feeling the end fast approaching and outright yelling into his warm hand.

“Better hurry, doll.” His breath comes out in a slow laugh. “Unless you wanna get caught. Is that what you want?”

You shake your head, knowing that deep down, for some reason, the very idea makes your cunt throb even harder.

“No?”

Another shake.

“Then fucking come.”

His fingers lodge into your folds, spreading you open and causing your walls to flutter like mad.

And your body obeys at once, head thrown back and limbs locking, plaster and Yoongi’s fingers your only purchase from sinking to the ground. Swells of pleasure almost taken from you gush onto his digits, and his hum teeters on a growl against your cheek.

“So perfect.”

The dark continues to heighten every sense you have, and you turn your head to capture his lips before gasping for air.

Your pulses are still deep when he removes his fingers. And you already miss them as you try to straighten, legs wobbly and hands steadying on his arms.

His teasing laugh makes you pout. “You good?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then let’s go.”

You feel him move away from you, and you decide then and there that you want more.

A lot more.

Panicked, yank him away from the door, reaching for his face and pulling him onto your lips. Bold. Risky. So unlike you.

But the dark heightens your courage as much as your senses. And something about him only focusing on you makes you want him more than ever.

Yoongi’s just as rushed this time. A myriad of flavors smears across your mouth, and his hot breaths sink wonderfully into your skin. Seconds, minutes, years. It doesn’t matter how much time you have now.

This tiny stretch of time has been a miracle, and you wanna stretch it out as long as you possibly can.

When he finally pulls away, he tells you he didn’t think you had this in you. When you admit that you just really missed him, he repeats the sentiment right back.

And when you tell him you have a bit more time left, he suggests that you all swing by another prize booth.

“What, you wanna win me something, too?”

“Nah.” He huffs a laugh, and his next sentence earns him a playful shove,

“I just wanna watch you lose.”

fin. :)

A/N: so... yes. this was a 4.5k word drabble. bc some people wouldn’t stop talking and being cute with each other and someone else just had to keep being a good ass friend!!! anyway. hope y’all enjoyed! there are so many other drabbles to come during the fall season, so get ready. i would love to know what y’all thought about this one! any feedback would be much loved :D ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here! ++ ⇥ masterlist

#🍎🍎🍎 pt 2 is here sry for the wait omg #bts fic #bts imagines #bts reactions #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts #yoongi #bangtanbathhouse #bangtansorciere #bangtanarmynet #*latest #*ryenfictalk #ryenwrites #*3tanfall #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #yoongi fic

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houseofbrat · 2 months

Text

They should have never let Catherine take the blame for the photo altering. Even if she did alter it herself, it only adds to everyone’s suspicion. I think she felt the need to put a photo out quickly and it backfired. Why didn’t the RP cover for her photo blunder?

Right. Literally anything would’ve been better than her of all people personally taking the fall for this! William would’ve been better, a random, unnamed intern would’ve been better, one of the kids fucking with the computer lmao idk. Just such a strange strange tweet to send out.

Someone should call KP and tell them we’re on mega thread #4 over here and we can’t have our mods getting sick from the “stress and fallout”, so just trot her out for a second or an audio message or even just a true statement sans doctored photos. And if she’s too unwell for that well gee maybe a smidge of transparency would gain them public support back . Nobody wants her medical info , just them to stop acting shady and disrespectful. She can have her privacy and also stop the shiftiness and theatrics. Unlike Reddit mods, the BRF gets paid.

I think Kate is refusing to play ball. It's entirely possible she's had setbacks in her recovery or drew a line in the sand and said "I'm out until x/y/z date, so quit pushing," but this is a woman who's been in the public eye for 20 years. She knows how the media vultures and gossip mill operate. The speculation has now turned dark. We're getting everything from she's passed and they're covering it up, to she was injured in an 'incident.' Papers are running articles on William's rage issues. Kate could easily clear this up but she's choosing not to. It leads me to believe she's pissed at her husband and is enjoying watching him squirm.

Just found out my best friend has independently fallen down the rabbit hole—which just illustrates how out of control this has gotten.

we’re both thinking it’s just a series of ‘own goals’ but are seriously hoping Catherine makes an appearance at Easter. If not, I think KP will have to make yet another announcement, and given how inept they’ve been, it’ll probably just make things even worse.

I’m just hoping she’s chilling with her kiddos, and is either not paying attention to the whole debacle or is highly amused by the shenanigans.

I would think that she is making an appearance at Easter but then wonder why KP wanted it to be known that she isn’t confirmed the attend Trooping of the Colour? Which was stupid on their part tbh

Princess Diana’s former private secretary on the matter from a CNN interview.

He’s kinda repetitious but still clear enough. He comes out critical of William for poor communications. Williams’s office created the vacuum of information which fueled the interest which fueled the out sized interest and the conspiracy theories.)

They definitely mishandled this situation. Supposedly Prince William just got a new private secretary. Hopefully they get a proper PR team again soon. While I’m not on team conspiracy theories and believe what has happened is exactly what we heard (Catherine had major surgery and is now recovering), they were way in over their heads in how they handled this.

Crazily, her secretary, Patrick Jephson, was my neighbor 8 years ago, super nice and very genuine guy. I definitely put stock in his POV.

This has been extremely poorly managed by KP. They’ve done irreparable harm to their image. The pressure they are now under for the next step/stage/messaging is immense. This is a defining moment for the royal family. Charles is not well, to what extent is not known. Kate is MIA and now three very questionable ‘proof of life’ photos have been released. The state of Will and Kate’s marriage is under a serious spotlight. It’s an information black hole. VERY rocky overall.

Charles and Kate are unwell. That is all. Kate is obsessed with her looks and image and she doesn’t want to be pictured looking anything but perfect that’s all. She will be back once she is looking like her old self. I honestly don’t believe the marriage in trouble stuff. Kate will never leave William that too so close to becoming the Queen? No chance.

Is it possible, in light of everything that has occurred so far, that Charles is letting Will have enough rope so Charles can use this PR disaster as his excuse to shutdown Kensington Palace office so everyone falls under his office at BP? Get rid of Will's staff and his vanity projects so he has to get on with the everyday drudgery that being a royal entails? It's not just film premieres and photo ops. It's hands on in the community at events with little or no fanfare. Service rather than PR grandstanding.

With no more competing offices, Charles can have his people oversee everything. That at least might get some consistency.

I kind of doubt it. William has the duchy money now. He can spend it however he wants.

I believe the most significant thing is that - at the very beginning of this whole story- the surgery wasn’t planned at all… she had the agenda full of duties, included a trip to Italy… The narrative from the Palace was inconsistent from the first day.

Reposting, because I think my comment got removed.

My takeaway from all the conspiracy theories floating around out there is that no matter what the truth is, look at what the main themes have become. Essentially, there are several theories about Will's behaviour and being a less than stellar husband. Also, the feeling that KP cannot be trusted. No matter what the truth is, the fact that these are the themes that have emerged is interesting.

William has based his entire reputation on being a nice protective family man. He doesn’t really have any other accomplishments or character traits that the public cares about. He put all his eggs were in the good dad/husband basket. Somehow, the Harry & Meghan crisis only bolstered that image. Now Stephen Colbert is doing bits about his alleged affairs, and all the normies know about his anger issues. Now personally, I’m the kind of person who thinks where there’s smoke, there’s fire. But even if there aren’t any flames here, Kategate has done some massive damage to Will’s reputation.

KP PR team is giving toxic boymom energy. Anything to protect their precious son.

Is anybody else getting annoyed at all the normies acting like Rose is William’s Camilla? I mean, maybe she is. Maybe they never even slept together. We don’t really know. But the assumption is getting on my nerves. Not every side chick is a Camilla!!

My mum calls my dads best friend (another straight male) his Camilla.

I was filling in my husband about this mess, and his comment was that he thinks maybe the PR team WANTS this drama unfolding because it keeps the royals in the news. Like essentially, "all press is good press." What does this community think? I was inclined to think that as the figurehead of a political state and a future king, Charles and William really can't afford this type of bad press, especially about DV. Obviously, the royal family do bring in money and tourism for the country, and part of that has always been an uneasy relationship with paparazzi and gossip rags, but given that QE II is gone and there are a lot of people who find them irrelevant and an unfair state subsidy, I think this would be a terrible PR move. Thoughts? Could their PR team be milking this?

Their PR team are likely pulling their hair out. "All press is good press" applies to celebrities who need to keep their names front and center to remain celebrities. The Palaces never��want bad press. I think the issue is that William is incredibly stubborn and won't listen to their advice.

I've never been the type of girl to need closure when things come to an end, but if the season finale to this saga doesn’t answer every single question and include some bombshells I’d never even consider, I’m going to cry.

“She deserves her privacy, though!” Shut up, we’re all here for the same reason.

I just find it hilarious that the most interesting thing Kate has ever done in her life is disappear.

The whole ''she went shopping and we saw it, trust me bro'' thing is bad for them any way you look at it.

Either she wasn't really seen shopping and the story was completely fabricated with colaboration from the media, which would be pretty sinister and in line with everything else we've been getting lately, and at the least it would be a very North Korean-esque way of deceiving the public.

She actually did went shopping, was in ''public'' no matter how limited and controlled the public was, which means that she's physically capable + her face isn't bad or disfigured or whatever, as some people have suggested. Which portrays her as very irresponsible and weirdly uninterested in keeping up her image and popularity. Amidst all those very damaging rumors that could directly influence and traumatize even her children (forget about adults and public), she has time and will for shopping but not for a 10 second video, which is everything needed to dispell all the rumors once and for all?

All in all, terrible PR one way or another. The clusterfuck continues.

Do they actually think it’s a good look that she went shopping on St Paddy’s Day? She’s involved with the Irish guards and cancelled her appearance at their annual event… so she can’t work but she can pop out to the shops with Willy? Sure, Jan. Just fuck the Irish guards then right?! I mean, not that I remotely believe she went shopping. But another terrible PR bungle. These KP PR people are fucking idiots and I don’t understand why they still have jobs when they’re so clearly incompetent.

Even if she wasn't capable of attending a quick video message expressing her good wishes for the Irish guards etc etc would have worked wonders in terms of restoring good feeling towards them from the public and simultaneously would have quieted the conspiracy theorists. I don't buy she wasn't well enough to do a simple 1 minute video but was perfectly happy with a trip to the shops and watching sports with the kids where she would have been seen and possibly photographed. My personal view is that the trip to the shop didn't happen. There's no way that there's not a SINGLE snap taken on a mobile phone that's made it's way to social media.

I'm continually amazed at how badly the Waleses are botching all of this.

To be clear, I've been a royal watcher since they got engaged in 2010, and I'd definitely fall into more into the "fan" camp than not.

I've thought the conspiracy theories about all of this are nonsense. And even now after "Photogate", I STILL think they're nonsense and that what is happening is what they said - Catherine had serious surgery and needs time to recover.

But the artificially constructed Mother's Day photo is such a huge unforced error, made worse by Catherine then taking the fall for it.

Catherine's clearly not ready to show her actual face as it looks right now, and that's fine.

But then don't fake a picture! Post a quick video of William and the kids making breakfast in bed for Catherine for Mother's Day, or making cards or something. It'd still have the conspiracy theorists buzzing about why we're not seeing her, but it'd have been SO much better received by the general public than what they did.

She's absolutely entitled to her privacy, especially while she recovers. But the deal that the Royal Family has had with the press for decades now is that they get privacy most of the time in exchange for occasional, official, REAL pictures. It's clueless at best - and outright deceptive at worst - to do something like this and think no one will notice or care.

With the farmer’s market story, I’m even more convinced that Kate’s story is a red herring and there is something else happening they don’t want people to notice or know about.

This is still so odd. Either something is up (and I have no knowledge and make no inferences as to what or why) or a lot of people are profoundly bad at their jobs. Ok, the photoshop happens. Then they lie about it, even when they are trying to apologize for it. Why not put out a quick official and genuine photo of just her. If she isn't ready for camera's yet, put out a voice recorded statement saying, "I appreciate everyone's interest in my well being. Rest assured I am recovering well and I look forward to returning to my royal duties as soon as I am able". They could so easily kill all of this speculation and non-sense if things are as they say they are (she is taking car rides and shopping and up out and about). It would literally take 1 hour of her time at most, and instead KP's continued silence invites more speculation. You know what happens in physics why you make a vacuum? It gets filled. The same happens in the media/press. So again I say, either something is up (and I have no grounds with which to speculate what it might be) or this is the absolute worst PR advice and self-made crisis in recent memory.

Edit: Grammar

I joked about this in one of the earlier megathreads, but what if the *plot twist* in all of this is that Kate handles her own PR. I just remember when they got married how one of the little factoids that came out was that Kate did her own makeup for the wedding day. Like, royals! They're just like us!

Can someone answer why Royal Rota media are publishing these pics if there is a deal that they don't publish unauthorized photographs or was this a planned pap walk LOL? Is there a thread somewhere talking about this. I was listening to the Times (UK) Radio on YouTube today and the Assistant Editor for the paper (Kate Mansey) was unfairly criticizing listeners as strange people who are conspiracy theorists and says there isn't a pact or agreement that the family has with the media...yeah right LOL (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIKUvQB2Z_M). Have these people read about the Royal Rota and the unprecedented-in-the-modern-era pacts the royal family has made with the British media.

If the British media are posting it its because they got the ok to do so.

Their PR team needs to pick a lane. On one hand they're selling that Kate is healthy enough to be out and about twice in one weekend, walking around a farmer's market, watching her kids play sports, but on the other she's unwell to the point she had to fake a Mother's Day pic and pull out of an event in June? Which is it? Their messaging is all over the place.

I hope that if we all take away one thing from this whole ordeal its that no matter how bad at your job you might think you are, you're still probably doing better than the KP PR team over the last couple of weeks so give yourself a pat on the back for a job well done and don't be so harsh on yourself.

what gets me and i know royal fans will call me a conspiracy theorist is that it's kinda obvious there's a story here. the impact or actual matter of it isn't what i'm questioning, but the motivation behind so many blunders. i am a writer/journalist and this entire story feels weirdly on edge of being something, anything.

like yes, let's presume kp was truthful from the beginning and she had abdominal surgery that took too long to recover from. great, but why throw her under the bus? or if all of this is a distraction, overplayed to the nines, what for?

i am sure any tea is probably regular people tea to the max, like relationship dynamics, family stuff and whatnot. it's not like i believed she was killed and it was hidden, but usually when there's smoke there's fire and i'm curious about what fire, you know?

i would love to be a fly on the wall and know what they disagree about, their relationship with staff and other royals.

i find kate stylish and their wedding hype was charming, if a little gauche. i am against royals in general, not specifically them, but they could be great philanthropists if they wanted.

the thing with Kate's personality (in public) is that it's nonexistent? i suppose that's the ideal, princess-like behavior that's expected from her. but i do wonder what happens behind the scenes with that. how curated it is x how many other blunders happened before.

The story seems to be that Will and Kate are going to find it much, much harder to be the center of the slimmed down monarchy than they realized. Though if it turned out that they’d never really thought about how that was going to work on practice, I would believe you. There aren’t as many working royals so the attention is on them, whether they want it to be or not. The disappearing and the stonewalling isn’t super unusual for Will and Kate, though not previously to this extent, but we’ll see if they make any changes moving forward. Judging from how this debacle has dragged on, I am guessing they won’t.

Well, I for one am very impressed by Kate's ability to emerge from her grueling 3 month surgical recovery looking like a radiant, bouncy 25 year old yoga instructor who doesn't have a care in the world.

#my gif #reddit #patrick jephson #media #british royal family #William The Prince of OWN GOALS #William The Terrible #William The Weak #prince william #William The Prince of Wales #kate middleton #Catherine The Princess of Wales #kensington palace #palace officials #pr games #strategery #PR fail #MESS!

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rebelwrites · 1 year

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Winner Takes It All || Going Through Hell With A Hangover

Charles Leclerc x Valentina Hendrix (OC)

Winner Takes It All Masterlist

Summary: Valentina thought things were starting to look up but dealing with a mammoth hangover things start heating up in the paddock.

Warnings: Angry Valentina! That is all

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

Before I even opened my eyes I knew I was in for the hangover from hell, the room felt like it was spinning, my stomach was churning and it felt like I had a baby elephant stomping on my head.

Pulling the pillow from the other side of the bed over my face, I slowly opened my eyes, at least the pillow would shield me from the brightness of Hudson’s beach facing property in Miami. It was like he didn’t know what blinds or black out curtains were.

“How’s the head?” Hudson’s gravely voice appeared, it was slightly muffled due to the pillow over my face but I could tell he hadn’t long woken up himself. “You gonna be able to get through the media day?”

Groaning into the pillow, I squeezed my eyes closed throwing it across the room. Right now I hated myself, as if media days weren’t bad enough, I now had to deal with it whilst nursing one of the worse hangovers I had ever had.

“I’m going to take that as a no then.” he chuckled.

The weight on the bed changed signally he had sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m going to go through hell with a hangover.” I mumbled, slowly opening my eyes, letting them adjust to the brightness of the room, at least Hudson’s large frame was kind of blocking the rising sun. “I must have been a real bitch in a past life, I’ve had nothing but shit luck over the last four years.”

“I wouldn’t call getting into the most sought after sports unlucky, sweetheart.” he hummed, brushing some of my wild hair behind my ear. “And plus you have me now, so I think your luck is changing for the better.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at his statement, maybe he was right. This was my time to shine and I wasn’t going to let a hangover stop me from dominating the weekend.

“I also think it is time you get that ass outta this bed and get ready for your day of hell as you like to put it.” he winked before pressing a kiss to the centre of my forehead. Without saying another word, he pushed himself off the bed.

I couldn’t help letting my eyes drop to his ass as he waltzed out of the bedroom wearing nothing but a tight black pair of Armani boxer shorts. Maybe he was right, maybe my luck was starting to turn, I mean I had managed to end up with a relationship with one of the hottest models in America. Running my hands over my face I finally mustered up the energy to clamber out of bed, grabbing the first item of clothing I could find, which just so happened to be one of Hudson’s t-shirts. One glance in the mirror and I was laughing at my reflection, the shirt was at least double maybe even triple my normal size and I could have gotten away with wearing this out as a dress.

Tangling my fingers in my messy hair I slowly made my way into the main part of the apartment finding Hudson leaning against the counter, coffee in one hand and phone in the other. The smirk on his face was wide and his eyes were sparkling from the sunlight bouncing around the kitchen.

“Seen something you like?” I hummed, in amusement as I made a b line straight for the coffee machine.

“Harley Davidson just dropped the pic of our shoot,” he grinned, looking up from his phone. “I think the picture they chose has to be my favourite of the whole shoot.” He paused for a moment, as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Well, that's a lie, they actually sent us the ones that didn’t make it onto instagram.”

Instantly I knew which photo he was on about, it was the final one of the day where I was in nothing but a red bikini and he decided it would be the perfect time to shake multiple bottles of beer opening them all over me and the photographer managed to capture the moment I was covered in beer flipping off Hudson.

“Let me guess, the one where I’m flipping you off.” I giggled, glancing over my shoulder.

“You got it.” he winked, dropping his gaze back to his phone. “You fans are going crazy in the comments, look.” he smiled, passing me his phone.

I couldn’t help but laugh at some of the comments I was reading, he was right they were going crazy and it was safe to say with the photo I posted last night, no doubt the press images of us at the gala and now this the whole world would know that me and Hudson had something going on.

“Alors, à quel point as-tu la gueule de bois ce matin ? So, how hungover are you this morning?.” Pierre smirked, pulling his sunglasses down his nose to take in my appearance before passing me a much needed iced coffee.

“I swear I am hanging out my arse.” I moaned, taking a much needed sip of the caffeinated goodness. “But at least everything has just about stopped spinning. I just need today to go perfectly, do the press conferences and interviews, then I am heading back to Hudson’s and sleeping for the rest of the day.”

It was like the universe had something against me today, from across the paddock I could see Becky storming towards me. “Seigneur, donne-moi la force. Lord, give me strength.” I snapped, feeling my fingers ball into a fist.

“Just ignore her.” Hudson hummed, pressing a kiss against the side of my head.

“Easier said than done.” I scoffed, chewing on the straw in my coffee.

The thing that annoyed me the most was the amused look on her face as she looked me and Hudson up and down. Her expression changed to a look of disgust quickly before she spat on the floor.

“Well, well what do we have here?” she said, rolling her eyes before checking on her false nails. “It looks like you like sloppy seconds just like the skank I knew you were.”

Shaking Hudson’s arm off my shoulder, I took a step closer to the bitch standing in front of me, not caring who was watching as I squared up to her.

“The only skank standing here is you, bitch.” I growled, feeling my nails digging into the palm of my hands. This was the last thing I needed, especially today. “You think you are so big and tough but you only ever seem to make a scene when the camera’s are around. What are you hoping for? Your five minutes of fucking fame on DTS?”

“You think you fucking have the world at your feet don’t you?” she snarled, flicking her gaze between me and Hudson. “You think you are fucking untouchable don’t you?”

“Because I am fucking untouchable, you seem to forget you tried to get my arrest record used against me but that one back fired on you didn’t it?” I hummed, keeping my tone venomous. All I wanted to do was wipe that stupid little smirk off her face but this wasn’t the time or place to do so.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Charles rushing over, the sight of it made me roll my eyes. Of course he would come and try and save the fucking day.

“So I suggest you and your fake ass tits turn around and fucking walk away before you see a side of me you really don’t want to see.”

The moment Charles appeared next to us, Becky screamed with a frustrated look on her face before storming off into the crowd that had formed around us.

“Nothing to see here, people.” I shouted, holding my hand up in the air before turning back to Pierre and Hudson. “I fucking swear some people need to take a long walk off a short pier.”

Before anyone could say anything, I spun around making my way to the Alpha Tauri motorhome, knowing it would be the only place I could get some peace and quiet.

Today was going to be hell on earth.

Not even five minutes later the sound of the motorhome door closing echoed through the silence, I couldn’t help but scoff the moment that familiar scent invaded my senses. Of course he would come here, he couldn’t leave things alone.

“Vaffanculo, Char. Fuck off Char.” I growled, lifting my arm over the top of the sofa, flipping him off. “I want to be alone before the press conference.”

I was met with silence before the sound of his heavy silence filled the sound of the room before I felt his fingers brush against my legs.

I hated the fact that his touch still set my skin on fire, sending sparks throughout my body. The feeling of my legs being lifted up was followed by the weight of Charles sitting next to me on the sofa, placing my legs over his.

“The fuck you doing?” I snarled, refusing to acknowledge that I missed this contact, this closeness.

“I want to ask you something,” he said, aimlessly running his fingers over my skin. I tried my hardest to ignore the feeling, to block everything out but his touch still increased my heart rate, my body was betraying me right now. “I just want to know if you are happy, if he makes you happy?”

It was like someone had just dunked me into an ice bath the moment the words left his lips. Instantly I jolted away from him, throwing myself off the sofa, the feeling of being hungover long forgotten with the anger that was radiating through every bone of my body.

“What fucking right do you have coming in here sitting on the sofa, pulling my legs onto your and asking questions like that.” I growled, tangling my fingers into the roots of my hair. “Oh that’s right Charles, you have no fucking right. You lose those privileges the moment you picked her over me.”

He didn’t say a word as I paced around the motorhome, trying to process everything that had happened today. The fact he sat there in silence angered me even more.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” I snarled, kicking the chair across the room, this finally got his attention.

“Je tiens toujours à toi. I still care about you.” he said, making eye contact with me. “I will always fucking care about you, so sorry for checking in with you, sorry for trying to show you that I still care about you and wanting to know if you are happy.”

Tears burned my eyes, my vision was starting to get cloudy. I had no idea why I was at the point of breaking down, whether it was anger or the fact that Charles still cared about me. All I knew was I needed him out of my sanctuary, I couldn’t think straight with him around and after the morning I had I really needed some time alone.

“If answering your question will cause you to leave, then yes.” I growled, trying to blink the tears away, I refused to cry in front of him. “Yes, Hudson does make me fucking happy.” I shouted, slamming my palms against the kitchen counter. “I haven’t been this happy in fucking years, now leave I need to get ready for the press conference.”

I didn’t stick around to see what he said next or to even watch him leave, instead I tried to put enough distance between us as possible.

@chibsytelford @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @stillbreathin @angywritesstuff @miamedyu @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @micks-afterglow @livo67 @buendiabebeta @pleasedontfollowinlost @ferrarifwendvale @hungryhungarian @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @sunf1owerrq @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @sessgjarg @derpinathebrave @idkiwantchocolatee @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @alynoa @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @organasith @inchidentwithmax @raaaaabzzz @teamspideyman @marvelousmendess @mehrmonga @sbgal

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one #formula one x oc #formula one x reader #formula one imagine

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zahri-melitor · 9 months

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Okay I’m reading Rucka’s Year One, and I stopped and HOOTED at this panel.

Here’s young Diana getting bit by a snake. Artist for the issue is Nicola Scott. Now if you don’t know, Scott’s an Australian - actually lives in the Blue Mountains in Sydney.

That’s a Red-bellied Black Snake. Reasonably common around here. They are highly venomous. She literally just decided to draw a snake from the garden.

Here’s a real life baby one for you, caught just yesterday by the snake catcher in this photo. It delayed the start of play at an AFLW game (one of our codes of football) yesterday for half an hour because as mentioned, they’re venomous (though there hasn’t been a death in YEARS. As it’s so common every hospital has plenty of antivenom)

And yes that dude is the most stereotypical snake catcher ever, everyone has been hugely amused.

Anyway. Glad to see Scott lean into the Australian inhabitants of Themyscira, given they also have all those kangas.

(If you want more excellent Australian snake content I’ll go find the article about the lettuce snake)

#z canon read throughs #Nicola Scott just sneaking in a dangerous but unlikely to be deadly snake for Diana to get bit #I always love spotting it when she sneaks Aus animals in

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minato-division03 · 22 days

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Queen Card’s Thoughts on Ueno Division

Aranai Norikoru

“Aranai Norikoru… age: late teens, occupation: high school student… and it would seem she has taken up courier work on the side. As far as the subject is concerned or mayhaps aware, biological family consists of a father and mother… Certain qualities of her appearance… without a doubt, she has had her fair share of encounters with law enforcement and had, at one point, started up a measly little ‘gang’…”

“And I grow tired of this overplayed tale. One event leads to another and now the world is against you. Do what you will with the law, so long as this one isn’t responsible for the death of an innocent life without reason. I’ve no interest in these petty crimes. Bring me a subject that’ll be even remotely entertaining. However, I shall hold my tongue, seeing as my dear Ichiro Yamada thinks highly of this child.”

Shisuta Heisha

“Shisuta Heisha, age: mid to late twenties, occupation: nun. And it would seem she has taken up a casual line of work, seemingly with aesthetics and nurturing. My guess is, she is a florist. Though hopelessly devoted to that God of hers, it would seem there have been points in her life that led her faith in the deity to waver. Intriguing. I am reminded of a select few of staff members who work for me.“

Kisouna Yuzairu

“Kisouna Yuzairu… age: late twenties, occupation: prosecuting attourney, current family consists a sister and a young daughter. This is the first time I’m seeing this face. Within seconds, there are few clues in this photo that forthwith points to this subject being the sole reason that a few now-employees of mine have, at some point in their lives, been placed behind bars.”

“I can only deduce clues given the photograph and the correlation to my employees’ past line of work. And as a result, I’ve gotten just about all I needed. Prosecutors and detectives oftentimes work hand-in-hand, seeing as we work towards the same goal. Not exactly the most amusing. However, I can see where our tales may crossover. This subject and their tale may be cliche, however, I must thank her. Because it all worked out and I have employees who put their loyalty to me above all else.“

Sakura Clan

“Not particularly the most bland blend of tales. However, I find these girls to lean more towards cliché. Perhaps their skillsets for the stage are noteworthy. However… it is all far too predictable and far too easy to deduce what event led to what. Bring in the next set.”

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic arb #hypmic arb #ueno division #sakura clan #aranai norikoru #shisuta heisha #kisouna yuzairu #minato division #r.i.p märchen #queen card

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emeritus-fuckers · 10 months

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uhm hello hi this is for the match up thing

so uh looks wise i’m a 5’6 female, extremely fucking pale😭😭 i have dyed dark red hair that’s like quite long. i have light blue eyes and i have freckles. fashion style wise uh i’d say it’s like kinda like sort of fairy grunge in a way if u know what that issss but my makeup always varies between like what i’m wearing/how bothered i can be... idk where this should go but i am a scorpio who was born on halloween so i pride myself on that!!!!

uh personality wise i’d say i keep to myself and my close friends a lot i can be pretty talkative if i’m talking about my passions tho, i’d say i’m loyal cause like i’ve had the same friends for years and i’ve never replaced any of them for anyone ever, i can get quite jealous easily but that’s down to attachment issues (womp womp) 👎👎👎 my friends say i’m a really funny person so!!! does nostalgic count as a personality trait?? because like people always speak to me if they want to like feel like the old times but that’s because i’m stuck in the past a little too much and have like quite a good memory…..errr….i’m good at comforting people i guess and at giving advice since i was my friend groups like therapist friend.. people have told me i look quite intimidating at first glance but when they get to know me i’m not but that’s just cause i have like a raging rbf😭😭 i’ve been told i’m quite like helpful aswell and i like doing favours for people i care about tho so!!! i’m also very sentimental. and i am almost worryingly competitive….i will throw whatever is in arms reach at you if i lose…but i guess i’m just quite a quiet person unless you’re in my close friends circle then i can be quite loud and energetic…but i do have like crippling anxiety so…..slay….

okay uh interests wise i really like painting, reading, baking, listening to music, photo taking, i’m like really into the paranormal and like spiritual shit like crystals, incense, and i’m currently learning tarot!! i’m also very into history. my music taste is like all over the place so i can’t name any specific genres but some artists are; ghost (obvs), lana del rey, fleetwood mac, mitski, kate bush, abba ykkkk

here is some add on info!! : my favourite colour is purple. my favourite animal is cats, and i have a black and white one called crystal. i have like an uncontrollable obsession with candles and incense….i am a hoarder for that shit. my fav board game is uno because i am literally the master but i will throw the cards at your face if i lose….my favourite season are autumn and spring because i’m indecisive, favourite weather is rain but only if i’m indoors if i’m outdoors then it’s snow. i am a just dance PRO. my fav movie is phantom of the operaaaa, my fav tv show is either modern family or what we do in the shadows. my fav book genre is either fantasy or romance. if i was one of the seven sins i would def be fucking gluttony cause like i am snacking all day everyday, i have such a sweet tooth omgg…..

sorry if this is very vague especially for personality wise i just have no sense of my personality and would need to be told what i’m actually like to know….but my friends are asleep…..so!!!! 😭😭😭

Your match is... Secondo

To him being born on Halloween is just the coolest thing. He always gets carried away with your birthday celebrations.

He can handle you getting jealous, he understands it comes from attachment issues.

He loves how loyal you are. It's a trait he values highly in people.

This man is an expert at uno so you won’t always win.

While your competitiveness greatly amuses him (he’s very fond of it), if you throw cards at him, he will raise an eyebrow with an amused smile. The smile that means you are in trouble.

If you allow him too, it will most likely end in him pinning you down on the table and punishing you in a very enjoyable manner.

He is very impressed by your good memory. He will often ask you to tell stories of your first dates together.

He also loves hearing about your past to learn more about you.

He doesn’t open up much about his feelings but when he needs to talk he’ll go to you.

You both look very intimidating before people get to know you.

When you are feeling anxious he’ll spend the day with you. Baking, reading, photography or painting. He loves doing that stuff with you.

He helps you learn Tarot

He is very fond of your cat Crystal (don't tell another soul).

Because Crystal is black and white he’ll call them 'Papa Crystal'.

Ps I’ve just seen your other ask re this matchup, I will add this: He always leaves food on his plate for you to eat. He says he’s full but really he just enjoys seeing you happy when you steal his food.

This post is a part of Match-up Event. The Event ended on July 15th.

Written by Nyx

#match up #match up event #secondo emeritus #anon #ghost band x reader #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader

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maleksrami · 2 months

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Hey! Here are questions!

Are there any things that don't suck? Stuff you enjoy? Upcoming plans? Anything

What's something that has made you laugh this week?

What's the last animal you saw?

If you were offered water, soda, coffee, tea, or juice right now, which would you choose?

When you imagine someone (anyone) you like, what do you see them doing?

What do you think are your core values?

If you could do one tiny and low effort thing right now to make yourself even a tiny bit more comfortable, what is it? Are you gonna do it?! Have you already?!

What's your current interest that has you smiling most often?

things that don’t suck: there was a handful of new songs that all released last week on the same night and three of them all relate to my boyband loving lifestyle through the ages 😭 nsync released a new song, also zayn, and taehyung (“V”) of bts. my childhood, my early twenties, and my present loves all at once. i was over the moon and all the songs are so wonderful 🥹

something that made me laugh this week was an old picture of my dog that i found. my sister had taken a photo of him in the passenger seat of my mom’s car while she was in traffic next to them in her own car. he’s just staring out the window at her and he looks like a little teddy bear bc he had just gotten a fresh haircut lol. i had forgotten about it but was highly amused when i stumbled upon it again. he’s also the last animal i saw haha

if i were offered something to drink rn, i’d probably go with juice because i just had some orange juice and it always tastes better at night to meee

when i imagine someone i like, i see them preparing a meal or snack for me honestly 🥺 i need someone who knows how to cook bc i can get pretty bored doing it for myself these days

my core values definitely include creativity and self expression in any way. empathy and humor. kindness and loyalty. passion and nature. all those nice things :)

i’ve brushed my teeth and crawled into bed so i’m comfy rn!

idk if it’s an interest but lately there have been a lot of hummingbirds in my back garden because we have a ton of bird feeders out there, so i like watching them chase each other around and come up to the feeders and see all the various colors they are :)

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amplifyme · 7 months

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Cat and Mouse

I’m back! Another short entry; but I’m sure it will still be delightful~ :DDDDD

Anyway, my thoughts: a pleasure to reread, especially in putting William’s grumbles and Winslow’s abrasiveness in better contexts, having gotten to know the characters from the show. Love how Nan captures the littleness of “human” reactions without self-discipline, all ages, ranges, and stages of life. Cullen is really growing on me-- I already liked him from AWTN; but was a bit thrown by the series episode. Rereading is putting it all back together, in a way. Father is delightful even in his flustery, mother hen panicky concern. Vincent and his chessboard maneuvers-- with ‘Rat’ and the people Below alike-- are fascinating, especially knowing what else Nan is building on top of these moments. Vincent’s anger at feeling ‘separated’ from the people Below by his failure is really, really excellent of Nan to draw from, touch on, and further set up for future explorations.

Overall, highly enjoying myself-- and so is Sis (she is enjoying the experience more than the human drama; but that’s her typical schtick.Sis: “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I can get invested in human drama….”). And I am also highly enjoying taking her most extreme reactions, hyperbolizing them, and reading them back to her (Sis: “Yeah… they’re fun…” said with woeful sarcasm? “I dunno-- irony, maybe.”) And now, I shall transcribe Sis’s reactions:

““He resignedly scuffed on to the top of Father's stair, overlooking the study, which seemed empty. “Father? I'm sorry if I'm late, I—” “Vincent?” Father's voice brought Vincent's head up, and he located Father on the balcony, shoving off a stool and starting in great haste down the spiral iron staircase. “Vincent? Where on earth have you been?”” Sis: COOL YOUR JETS, OLD MAN. Let him live.” (We had a bit of banter here-- her Father’s stanship will last because she is invested enough to critique and still hold him as a favorite.)

She and I are having a brief tete a tete (Sis: “BUT WE ARE ALREADY HAVING A CONVERSATION-- it’s different than a tete a tete because--” and I lost the rest because she was talking a mile a minute) over Father’s parental worries-- she’s still salty about Devin-- but, overall, it’s entertaining for me to hear her ranting (“No, it’s not ranting, it’s not really ranting!” she rushes to assure me, after she calls it ranting.)

““You say you were hunting,” Father prodded. “The so-called rat, I presume? Did you...settle the matter?”” Sis was so highly amused she was cackling over Vincent going Street Fighter on a metaphorical rat.

I was describing these short stories as photos in an album to better illustrate why Father still has lessons to learn (on top of the other lessons he will ALSO learn in AWTN); and Sis threw in the idea that Diana is the third party that thinks all of this is messed up. We’re having a blast (Sis: “It’s about the friends we made along the way.”)

““Vincent, don't ever say that. You are not an animal.”” Sis: “Just try getting him to believe you. Obviously, that didn’t work.”

We briefly talked about Gabriel, and Sis made a crack about punching him amicably before both of us denied it because she doesn’t have amicable feelings towards Gabriel (Sis: “I’m not friends with him. He’s just a guy.”)

““...Vincent could sense only the tension and the anger, none of the love and relief they sprang from.”” and ““As the outer bruises faded, the inner ones went deeper, toward the heart, affecting Vincent's most basic sense of who he was and of what he was to everyone around him.”” are so key to Vincent’s journey in AWTN-- glad I caught it even more the second time around.

““Father patted at the air. “William, that's a matter of simple logistics--”” Sis’s mouth dropped open, imagining the numerous logistics: “Well then, you figure it out, Father!” I explained how Father would not be able to do so as well as William. She completely understood: “Oh, well, fine.”

““When Cullen's hand landed on his shoulder, he was so startled he nearly choked.”” THERE’S CULLEN STARTLING HIM AGAIN. Love whenever Cullen does that in the narrative.

Sis gave Part 2 a “thumbs up”-- she’s a self-described “click off” reader, meaning she reads, she likes, she clicks off. Her modus operandi. So a thumbs up is her way of expressing “yay” to the reading experience. (Yes, she does this to my stuff, too.)

Anyway, gotta shuffle off again! Will be back soon with the next installment~.

Hey! Sorry I didn't get to this sooner. Yesterday was cray-cray. I love reading yours and Sis's thoughts and the bantering you do while in the midst of your re-read. I really don't have anything to add to this except for one thing, below the cut...

““Vincent, don't ever say that. You are not an animal.”” Sis: “Just try getting him to believe you. Obviously, that didn’t work.”

Okay, but here's the thing, V is right: he is an animal. And he's much more cognizant of that fact than any of the people he lives amongst and loves. That's always been and will continue to be Father's absolute blind spot when it comes to his very unique son. There's no doubt F offers that belief to V out of deep love and respect for all the things V is that don't include "animal," but to deny that part of him is to refuse to accept the whole of the person - good and bad. And I think it's part of the reason V has such issues with his own sense of worthiness.

It's the same thinking that so many fans (especially Classic) have of Vincent: that he's this perfect man who just happens to have leonine features and enormous strength. But they're wrong, he's not just a man. He's very much other, and a large part of that is animal. And there's nothing wrong with that. Vincent is a singularly unique individual, a "creature who has never been."

I think one of the reasons Nan and I hit it off so well is because we shared the same beliefs about V. It's so easy to focus on the aspects of him that are the most admirable and relatable. But if you chose to ignore or disregard the truth of his otherness, then you do him a great disservice.

One of my favorite lines in the show ever, is one of Diana's and is, sadly, one that a lot of folks didn't or don't pay enough attention to. It not only goes a long way in explaining who she is and how she thinks, but it also strikes me as the perfect example of why she and V are such a perfect pairing. Because it proves that she'll be able to acknowledge and accept all of Vincent, and not just the parts that are the best of him.

"If all you’re willing to see is what you’ve seen before, you’re gonna miss half of what’s going on."

I'll leave you with that. 😊

#beauty and the beast 1987 #cat and mouse #fanfic #discussion #vincent's otherness

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itsbeenclaireified · 1 year

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Y’all it’s been a whirlwind.

Let’s start with a small update, I went to Japan and it was amazing. Highly recommend! It was very easy to navigate around and everyone was very nice to us tourists.

Maybe I’ll make another post with just some pictures because it was so pretty and wonderful. There were however some challenges: we had travel delays because of a typhoon and then about half way thru the trip I came down with what I was obviously hoping was hayfever and upon testing at home was Covid.

My mom was also struggling the first half of the trip with like…things not meeting her expectations? And admittedly our tour guide was not doing great work with communicating or organizing or honestly even counting our too big group. So she wasn’t eating a lot and then there was a day she snapped at me, and while later she apologized it was not for snapping at me. It was because she thought she had embarrassed me when she yelled at the tour guide. But then I got sick and her mood improved! Which is always sort of a mindfuck, but it also was nice to not spend my mental energy worrying if she was having fun on her dream trip.

So yeah, I came home and while I was feeling better I had wanted to go into my office to meet my coworker’s baby. And because I was congested I was like, I should test just in case. Even if it had been negative I would have worn a mask and stayed back but it was sort of a shock to be positive. Because denial is a great thing and while there had been a single day that I had the same body aches I had after I got my vaccine…I thought it made since because we had spend like 6 hrs on the cement floor of the train station because of delays. But nope, it was Covid.

So I came home to a single day of work and was like hey guys maybe I can’t go on this business trip next week to Kansas. Which I warned them before the trip too and everyone was like nah it’ll be fine. And then BOOM I’m positive and I’m like uhhh guys idk that I will be allowed into hospital to watch this procedure because of the vid, can someone else go? Crickets.

And then a lot of “oh well policy says you’ll be at day 10 so you should be fine” and “let’s just play it by ear” etc. and lucky now I have tested negative twice and also my symptoms are almost completely resolved. But I can only thank myself for completely resting all weekend to get there.

Like…only got 500 steps total on Friday rested. And then I had to be like is my back stiff because I’m sick? Or is my back stiff because I haven’t moved in literal days? And am I tired because of jet lag? Or am I tired because of Covid? Or traveling? Or the long day at work? And we’ll literally never know.

Which also, I used this app called Timeshifter I saw on TikTok and it worked GREAT! I felt very little jet lag. Or at least not the type of jet lag that made me drag my feet and not want to do things.

So catch me in Wichita tonight, and being sad not to be home with my kitty.

My adorable nurse over the weekend.

And an amuse bouche of photos from Japan.

#claireified #personal #life update

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kloofspeaks · 2 years

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He Tried to Remove the Past | A Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell One-shot

Words: 1091

The work before this one: His Name Was Bradley

Sneakpeek:

He wanted it to be okay, his eyes flickered over to a highly worried and concerned Bob, he pushed up his glasses before looking right at Maverick, “He would’ve wanted this, Captain,” Bob stuttered on his words, worried he would mess up.

Maverick moved his gaze once more, he was met with a faint white, hollow figure who was standing right beside Bob.

He could make out that mustache any day, any time, “It’s gonna be okay, Mav,” the voice was faint, but comforting.

(Tags: @notyoursbutlewis, @callmemana, @viothewolx)

There were many things Maverick couldn’t erase from his mind, from his grease stained hands.

He was standing in the hangar watching Phoenix and Bob help him go through Rooster’s old things, he couldn’t even speak a word as they were finding things he tried not to stare at after his death, they were trying to remove his life and put it in a storage closet where it would rot.

It was already in storage, Maverick’s storage. He was happy with it here, here with him and his sorrow.

His bleeding heart.

He didn’t even throw out Goose’s old things, so why would he get rid of his son’s too?

“I don’t like this,” Maverick muttered, his arms crossed over his toned chest, his fingers tapping on his forearm, he had one of his arm brows arched and his eyes were glassy from holding back tears.

Maverick almost sounded broken when he was watching Bob hold Rooster’s bruised and battered helmet and held it in front of his face while Phoenix turned towards Maverick.

“It’s a way of healing, Mav, I’m sure Rooster would’ve wanted you to heal if he was still here,” those words stabbed Maverick right in the throat, he felt like he was pinned against the workbench that he was currently leaning against for support, that they were holding a freshly sharpened knife against his Adam’s apple, yelling at him, shaking him, telling him to forget what he did.

He is still here is what Maverick would’ve said, his things, his items, made it seem like he was still there, looking at his dad’s old photos with amusement on his fifteen year old face, that he was looking up towards his sickly mother that was bedridden.

He looked at Maverick like he was his final hope, that he was the saving grace to his miserable life, he had lost it all.

He had lost the one person that gave Maverick a purpose to stand and it was all because he wanted to save his life, “It doesn’t feel like healing, it feels like.. you’re trying to get rid of him.”

He complained, pushing his weight off the workbench to snatch the damaged helmet from Bob’s now shaking hands, “This stays,” he growled, making Bob nod profusely in fear.

Maverick used to be open, he used to be kind hearted and an open book.. at least, that’s what Goose used to say, he looked over at his friend’s old helmet, the one he kept on top of that work bench, the photos having small outlines of dust when they used to hang.

He placed Rooster’s helmet right by it, snagging the dog tags that once belonged to his wingman out of his pocket and placing them with his father’s.

They both met their demise way too soon, Phoenix and Bob were just trying to help and Maverick couldn’t accept his presence leaving.

He had days where he sat in his old P1-51 mustang and felt Bradley’s brisk touch on his hand, the laughter that came from the back seat when he used to take the kid on joyrides.

The pained expression he had on his face when he pulled his papers and came by like nothing ever happened, but Bradley’s face told him it all.

He set the kid back four years, in his heart he felt like he should’ve set him back forever, he should’ve kept him from flying, he should’ve locked him away and never let him fly-

But he knew, he knew that wasn’t right, Bradley had his own life and issues to face, Maverick couldn’t have just stepped in and taken it all away like a magic trick.

He couldn’t snap his fingers and make everything just return to normal.

He couldn’t put the photos and memories back on the workbench and act like everything was okay.

Nothing was okay, nothing was going to be okay, Bradley was gone, Iceman was gone, Carole was gone, Goose.. was gone.

Maverick and his conrades were the only people that now lived on in the Bradshaw family shadow, the haunting shadow that prickled at Mavericks exposed skin.

He wished he could hear Bradley’s laugh, see Bradley’s smile, smell Goose’s old cologne that Bradley kept close.

Those smells, sounds, sights were something that made Maverick’s heart melt as a father, he never had children of his own.

But, Bradley felt like his own son.

He would never find someone to love like a son again, someone that looked exactly like his best friend that he lost so long ago.

One that played a familiar classical tune on the piano every time they entered the hard deck.

One that had an awful taste in Hawaiian shirts, yet made the look fit his character.

Maverick unknowing slammed his fist down on the withered workbench, tears started to stream down his irradiated and sunburnt cheeks, Phoenix and Bob both froze and looked around at the broken vessel in front of them.

Maverick couldn’t be happy like this, as much as everyone told him, ‘Bradley would've wanted this,’ he wouldn’t have, he would’ve let Maverick keep all his things, show them to the world instead of hiding them away in poorly labeled cardboard boxes.

His breath was faint, the touch was faint, it was Phoenix, she put her hand on his forearm and looked at the broken Maverick right in front of her brunette eyes, “It’s going to be okay,” she said it so calmly, so brave, so talented with the most simple words ever to come out of someone’s mouth.

Maverick moved his gaze once more, he was met with a faint white, hollow figure who was standing right beside Bob.

He could make out that mustache any day, any time, “It’s gonna be okay, Mav,” the voice was faint, but comforting.

It caused all his hair to stand on edge, he would shred one more tear before he was met face to face with the bright smile of his best friend's son

One last time

One last time ..

#IT'S ANOTHER ANGST WORK #WOOOOO #tgm #KloofWriting #maverick top gun #bradley bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #a follow up fr #we can't remove the past fr #flower shop is out tomorrow

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elis-corner · 2 years

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The fact that I don’t get how people can watch the same thing over and over without a decent gap in between and complain if they do so without headphones in, and yet that’s exactly what I do with animatics and trailers, is highly amusing to me.

And because it’s been long enough without me having ranted about Lord of the Rings here you go XD

The trailer for the Amazon show. Oh my god it’s gotten me hyped. Honestly, I forgot about that villain Amazon has made, Adar. Why are you naming him Adar? Adar is elvish for father, that’s common knowledge! I swear he better not be one of Galadriel’s brothers like everyone is assuming. While typing this up I came to the frightening realisation that the photos we have of him match a certain First Age elf who is likely still alive at that point, and his name is Adar. First Age elf who matches this OC, most likely dubbed “Adar” by the characters within the show... I swear if Adar is Maglor I will personally go murder the showrunners, scriptwriters, and anyone else responsible. /j /lh

Hands down Meteor Man is Sauron, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Next, OCs. Look, I don’t mind a bit of variation from the original text, but the elf/human relationship they’ve created is questionable in my eyes. 1. When has that ever ended well. 2. They have a perfectly good love story to focus on already.

What love story you may ask? An important one, thanks very much; Elrond and Celebrian. The issue is that we have no hints that they’re showing it, as we have no confirmed actress for Celebrian. However, there are rumours that someone was hired (and the lady gives off Liv Tyler vibes so perhaps), Tolkien fans will be annoyed if this is excluded, it leaves people who don’t know much outside of the Third Age wondering who Elrond has kids with, so they hopefully will include her. Personally, she’s one of my favourite elves, and when I got back into art and writing last year, most of what I did centred around her. Also, it gives more content and tension for those scenes with him and Galadriel, since she likes Elrond and his forebearers, however despises those who raised him. Anyway, I just think they should use her to their advantage.

The shot from the most recent trailer of elves standing in a circle raising their swords. I am hyped. If it isn’t a flashback to the Oath of Feanor I’m going to cry. Maedhros and Maglor are two of my favourite elves of all time I need to see them. If it is though, we actually see four elves (one only for a split second), all with black hair, which probably means it’s Curufin, Caranthir, and Maglor (since Maedhros, Amros, Amras, and Celegorm do not have dark hair, and Feanor would likely be in the centre).

Halbrand looks way more like Aragorn than Isildur does, just saying. Not to mention Halbrand follows Dunedain naming schemes, and there is a LotR character called Halbarand which is awfully similar. On the topic of names, our first on-screen female dwarf is called Disa. The only named female dwarf Tolkien ever wrote about was Thorin’s sister, and her name was Dis. So wow, Amazon, big creativity right there. What does Disa mean anyway? Same with Theo (theod what you see in names such as Theoden, not theo)...

The casting for Gil-Galad is perfect. Not only is he a great actor with the perfect vibes, but he looks a lot like the Gil-Galad we see in the LotR prologue, which is great. Talking about continuity, those close-ups of Galadriel’s eyes are clearly reminiscent of the same thing happening in the original trilogy.

My sister thinks Elrond looks like Tom Holland, which I sort of see... I think she’s just trying to ruin the best elf for me.

That scene with red has my mind going haywire excuse me while I theorise every possible moment- Let’s see, is this Melkor being destroyed, the fall of Numenor, the curse of Mandos, or the First Kinslaying... I reckon that it isn’t the Kinslaying because Galariel says “you have not seen what I have seen”, and Elrond is also a Kinslaying survivor. The only other thing I know is that it looks sick.

Rest assured, if I have any more random thoughts you will receive essays >:)

This? Oh, no, this isn’t an essay. These are dot-points.

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missywritesfor7 · 8 months

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🌺 Promise Flower | PJM 🌺

Synopsis: Jimin is a popular dance student and the best one at his university. Mina is a photography student and has known Jimin since high school. An idea for a photo project finds Mina getting closer to him than she ever has before. She learns how big his heart is, but also learns how closely he guards it. Every time she thinks he'll let her in, he pulls away again. Is it even worth the trouble?

Pairing: college student!Jimin x fem!oc

Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, alcoholism

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

|| Ch. 18: Rage ||

The next day my mind is only on seeing Jimin. I’m not interested in anything going on in the house. I don’t even emerge from my room because I can already hear heated conversations going on downstairs. From what I can hear Ryan is bitching because my parents seem to have refused to give him money. I guess letting him stay here with his pregnant girlfriend free of charge isn’t enough.

Jimin and I agree to meet for lunch at a small restaurant in town. I decided to skip breakfast just so I can stay in my room until I get ready to leave. When the time comes I gather my things and get ready to escape hopefully without hearing a word from Ryan.

I make my way down the stairs and find everyone sitting in the living room watching tv and looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“I’m going to meet Jimin for lunch,” I say quickly heading for the door.

“Oh wait!” My mom says jumping up and going into the kitchen. “Can you give this to him to take home?” She comes out with a bag stuffed with a couple of pies. “I promised his mom I’d save her a pie so I saved her two,” she smiles handing the bag to me.

“You’re giving them two fucking pies?” I hear Ryan say in the distance. That’s my cue to get the fuck out asap.

“I’ll give it to him,” I say forcing a smile. “I’ll be back later.” My mom returns the forced smile giving me a knowing nod as I turn and walk out the door.

I hate this feeling of having to tiptoe around when this is supposed to be a relaxing time for me. It’s just the way things were when I was in high school and a big reason why I chose to go to a university 2 hours away.

I start to feel like I don’t have a way out and it brings me near tears as I’m driving to meet Jimin. I have to give myself a moment to breathe and fix my face before I get out of the car and enter the restaurant where Jimin is already waiting.

When I step inside and see his face posted up near the door I’m overcome with a wave of calm. It’s amazing what a picture of his face can do for my overall well being. It’s even better when I approach the table and see his smiling face. Nothing ever bothers me when I’m with him. He’s like a safety blanket that brings me calm and happiness no matter what’s going on.

“Hey, beautiful,” Jimin says as I sit across from him at the table. “What’s all of this?”

“My mom said she promised your mom a pie so she had me bring you two,” I chuckle.

“Nice. Thanks! And what else did you bring me?” He asks with a big smile looking at the gift bag I have.

“It’s nothing,” I say. “Just something for this really cute guy I know.”

“Is he cuter than me?”

“No one is cuter than you, babe.”

We exchange a few more cheesy lines before finally exchanging our gifts. He opens his first and smiles brightly at the sunglasses and beret. I live for the highly amused giggle he unleashes when he sees the cute baby chick socks.

“Now your turn,” he says with excitement. “Seeing what you got me now I wish I was able to get you something more, but I hope you like it.”

“You could give me a tree branch and I’d be happy.” I mean that. He doesn’t have to give me anything at all, I just enjoy him. His time and his presence are all I need.

I open the small box he presented to me and I’m in awe. Inside is a beautiful silver charm bracelet adorned with three adorable charms. One is a camera, another is a cat, and the last charm is a small bottle.

“It’s gorgeous,” I say pulling the bracelet out of the box to inspect it closer. “But…what’s the bottle for?”

“It’s a soju bottle,” he says. “A reminder of the first night we kissed.”

“Jimin, babe, I love it so much.” It’s not only beautiful, but each piece has meaning and that makes it even more special.

“Let me put it on you.” He grabs my arm from across the table and fastens the bracelet to my wrist. I may never take the thing off.

We enjoy our lunch together while telling each other how things went yesterday. I told him all about Ryan asking me for money and how things get more and more uneasy each day. I feel bad for airing out all of my frustrations and anxieties to him, but he never complains. He listens intently and each time I apologize for going on too much he tells me I have nothing to apologize for.

Knowing that I’m in no rush to go home after we’re done eating we decide to go sit in my car and continue chatting. Actually, we sit in the back seat and do more kissing and cuddling than talking. Either way there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.

Unfortunately we can’t stay here forever. It begins getting late so we both go our separate ways to have dinner with our families. He’s much more happy about his family dinner than I am mine. I even try begging him to let me have dinner at his place. He laughed it off and vowed to see me tomorrow, but I don’t think he understands how serious I am about not wanting to go home.

My safe place isn’t safe. He’s my safe place now and it makes my heart feel heavy when I have to leave my safe place to go home to a battlefield. My only other safe place is my apartment 2 hours away. I feel trapped and alone here when Ryan is around.

After sitting in my car in front of the house for 30 minutes, I finally gather the strength to take myself inside. I’m sure dinner is ready by now and my parents are waiting for me. I’m going in for them.

“Perfect timing,” my dad says as I walk through the door. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Oh, great,” I say trying to force a bit of enthusiasm.

As usual things at the dinner table are quiet and awkward. I can barely eat my food because I feel like I’m going to throw up. I hate this feeling. This feeling of having to use every ounce of strength in me to not fall apart. It’s exhausting and I’ve been feeling the physical effects of the stress more and more each day.

“Mina!” My mom says suddenly perking up. “What’s this?” She reaches across the table and brings my hand closer to her as she inspects the bracelet adorning my wrist.

“It’s the gift Jimin got me,” I say with a proud smile. The first smile I’ve cracked since I stepped in the door.

“It’s gorgeous, Mina! He did a good job. Look!” She pulls my arm closer to my dad to give him a look.

“Oh yeah, that looks really nice,” my dad says taking a quick look and smiling. There’s an entire world of other things he cares about more than jewelry, but he always humors us as long as we’re happy.

“Here we fucking go,” Ryan says annoyed.

“Don’t start,” my dad says under his breath.

“Did you give him the pies?” My mom asks trying to ignore Ryan’s comment.

“Yeah,” I say hoping this method works. “He said thanks and of course his mom will clean the containers out and get them back to you.”

“Of course,” she chuckles. “We’ve been passing the same containers back and forth for a few years now, I wish she would just keep them.”

“You two can’t be fucking serious right now,” Ryan says ignoring my dads warning. “I’ve heard more about this kid and his family than anything else. But when I say we need a little help getting on our feet Princess Mina tells me she doesn’t have anything, but comes back with some fancy little bracelet. Maybe ask your boyfriend for some money!”

“Ryan,” my dad growls.

“I’m not going to ask my boyfriend for money just to give it to you! All you’re going to do is spend it on booze and other bullshit! Maybe stop being useless for once and keep a job for more than two weeks!” The words fly out of my mouth faster than I can think. I’ve been holding everything in and it’s starting to spill out. I know I just poked a bear and instantly regret saying that. Now I know this can only get worse and my heart is beating terribly fast.

“You fucking bitch!” Ryan yells jumping out of his chair.

“Ryan!” My dad yells doing the same.

“No!” Ryan shouts. “You both always cater to her and kiss her ass all the time! You two never fucking cared about me! You don’t even care about your own grandchild! Your own fucking flesh and blood!”

“Did we not tell you you could stay here RENT FREE!” My mom yells. This is bad. When my mom starts yelling things are really bad. “We feed you and house you and don’t ask you for a thing!”

I feel like I’m losing oxygen despite how hard I’m trying to maintain a steady breathing pattern. My chest is getting tighter and tighter. At this point Keri and I are the only ones that haven’t gotten out of our seats. When I look over at her she gives me a shrug as if this is something that doesn’t bother her. I mouth to her asking if she’s ok and she gives me a smile and nods. What is she?

“If you can’t even be thankful enough for that,” my mom continues. “Then we can just as easily put you out!”

“Oh of course!” Ryan yells sarcastically. “You’re always trying to put me out for every little thing! But Mina can be here doing nothing but fucking her little boyfriend but you never want to threaten to throw her out!”

“Mina doesn’t bring trouble every time she’s here!” My dad yells with fire in his eyes.

“Right I forgot I’m always the trouble maker. I’m trying to get myself together so we can have a good life for our baby but all you people do is try to keep me down!”

“Have you been drinking?” My mom asks.

“Now this shit? You always accuse me of drinking!”

“Because you always are!” I yell still struggling with my heart rate.

“What do you fucking know!” Ryan says beginning to lunge towards me.

I get out of my seat on shaky legs but my dad grabs Ryan by the collar stopping him in his tracks.

“You fucking smell like booze!” My dad yells. “We told you we wouldn’t let you stay here if you started that shit again!”

I can’t feel my fingers. My legs are barely holding me up. Ryan is trying to convince my dad that he hasn’t been drinking, then trying to make them feel guilty about kicking them out when Keri “needs to rest” until the baby comes. It’s all too much.

“Are you going to put us out on the streets?” Ryan asks. “Are you going to have your grandchild born in the streets because you only care about Mina and her perfect little boyfriend?!”

“Jimin has nothing to do with you and your bullshit!” I yell using my last ounce of strength to defend my boyfriend. I’m sick and tired of him dragging Jimin’s name through the mud like this. I stand there with my fists clinched daring him to say something else.

“Why don’t you invite him over and I’ll fuck up that other leg of his. I bet he won’t be perfect then!”

Without a second thought I grab my plate and launch it right at his face. I don’t even give him a chance to react before I’m running out the door to the sound of my dad telling him he deserved it.

I jump in my car and drive off. Where am I going? I don’t know. I can’t feel my hands or feet. My entire body is trembling as I try my best to control my car. I can barely see straight and I decide to pull off into an empty parking lot to try to get myself together.

“Breathe,” I repeat to myself over and over again. “Breathe.”

I’m breathing. I’m not breathing. I think my heart rate is starting to slow down. My heart rate is increasing. I need air.

I open my car door and step out hoping the fresh air will help. My legs are still a bit shaky and weak so I lean my back against my car for some stability.

“I can’t do this,” I say to myself.

[Me]: I need you

[Me]: I need you so bad right now

[Me]: I feel like I can’t breathe

I send Jimin a string of texts along with my location. It’s only been about 2 hours since we parted ways earlier, but he’s all I feel like I have to put my mind at ease.

Actually now that I think of it he’s probably having dinner with his family. I instantly feel guilty and selfish for texting him in my panic expecting him to come to me when he’s spending time with his family.

The weight of everything is suddenly crushing me. My legs finally give out and I slide down the side of my car to the ground. I feel lost and alone and trapped. I don’t know where to go or what to do. Should I just leave and go back to my apartment? I would still have to go get my things from the house though. I really don’t want to think about going back there as long as Ryan is there.

My tears begin escaping my eyes and burning their way down my cheeks. My breathing hasn’t gotten any more stable and my heart feels like it’s going to explode right out of my chest. I’m crying and wheezing and my vision is fading again.

“Mina? Mina! Are you ok??” I look up to see Jimin running to me.

I try to speak but no sound comes out. All I can do is continue crying as he sits next to me holding me tightly.

“It’s ok,” he says. “I’m here now. It’s ok.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. For what I’m not sure. I just feel like I need to apologize for something. Maybe for calling him out here like this, or for once again letting Ryan get under my skin, or for leaving my parents to clean up the mess I made before running out of the house.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Jimin says gently. “Just breathe, I got you.”

I nestle my head into his chest and take a few deep breaths. His scent is light and soothing. I’ve grown familiar with the way he smells, the shampoo and body wash he uses, I always love it. It covers me in a veil of security, while his embrace eases my tremors. His voice reminding me that he’s here gradually clears the fog of panic in my mind and brings me back to earth.

He continues holding me and reassuring me for a few more minutes until I’m able to calm back down. I’m able to breathe a bit lighter and the tightness in my chest is fading.

“Are you ok?” He asks again.

“I am now. Thank you.”

“What happened?” He asks drying my face with his sleeve.

“We had a big fight. Everyone was fighting. Everyone was yelling. I threw my plate at Ryan and ran out. I can’t go back there,” I say looking up at him with despair in my eyes.

I can tell he’s not sure what to say, but he continues holding me and that’s all I really need right now. He kisses my forehead and let’s me take my time to get myself together.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. “I’m sorry for calling you away from your family like this.”

“I told you, you don’t need to be sorry,” he says. “I’m always going to be here for you so you can call me anytime.”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore. Ever since he got here I’ve been on edge. It just all boiled over tonight, but he kept pushing me!”

“I know,” Jimin says softly. “Do you want to sit in the car so you can get off the cold ground?”

I nod allowing him to help me to my feet. I had been so deep in my anxiety that I forgot thot I was even sitting on the hard parking lot concrete. He gets me into the back seat of my car and before getting in after he quickly runs to his car and returns with a bottle of water.

“Take a sip,” he says sitting in next to me and shutting the door. “I just want you to take it easy right now, ok?”

I nod again taking a sip from the bottle. I realize my throat is painfully dry, I’m sure from all of the yelling and crying. Jimin rubs soft circles into my back giving me a light massage.

A bit of time passes of us not saying much at all. He continues giving me his comforting touch and I keep sipping water and taking deep breaths. Every once in a while he’ll give me a light kiss on the forehead and continue reminding me that everything is ok.

“I don’t know what to do,” I say after a while.

“What can you do?” He asks. “It’s late, where could you go right now that would make you feel safe?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “Maybe I could sleep here in my car?”

“No,” he says quickly. “That’s not safe at all, I don’t want you sleeping in a parking lot.”

“Then I’ll go back to my apartment.”

“That’s a long drive.” He looks at me worried and I know he’s not exactly a fan of me driving two hours in the middle of the night.

“I can’t go back to that house, Jimin. I just can’t.”

“You need some rest before making that drive though. At least go back to get a little sleep then maybe leave early in the morning? You’ve been all worked up and crying, I don’t want you falling asleep or losing focus while you’re driving.”

“I know,” I whisper defeated. He’s right, I’m running on fumes at this point, and I haven’t even had much to eat either. Driving would be a bit of a risk right now.

Instead he stays with me until I feel good enough to go back to the house. I mean I don’t feel good about going at all, but I figure if I wait a few hours maybe everyone will be asleep, or at least in their rooms so I won’t have to face anyone when I go inside. Jimin is such an angel for staying with me deep into the night. I feel bad but every time I tell him he can go home he insists on staying by my side, which he did right up until he saw me drive out of the parking lot.

I take a few deep breaths before getting out of my car and quietly entering the house. All the lights are off which is a relief, it’s 1 am so everyone should be sleep.

I get to my room quietly closing the door behind me and lay across my bed. I just need to close my eyes and try to get a little rest. Tomorrow I’ll pack my things and leave, I just can’t stay here another day.

About 5 minutes after I close my eyes I start to hear voices. I think I’m losing my mind until I realize those voices are coming from Ryan’s room. I don’t know what he could possibly be doing at this hour, but he’s likely drunk and that’s the last thing I want to be around.

I wait hoping he stops, but his voice only gets louder and more angry. My anxiety starts to shoot up again when I hear him walk out of his room growling obscenities. I’m back on guard and jump out of the bed preparing for anything to happen. I start to panic when I hear his steps getting closer to my door and the only thing I can think to do is hide in my closet.

He forces his way into my room yelling incoherently and throwing my stuff around. He’s probably looking for money or something he can sell. Wouldn’t be the first time. He spends a few more minutes going through my stuff before he calls me a bitch and slams my door behind him.

When I feel the coast is clear I run out of my closet and begin throwing all of my things in my bags. I’m not going to make it through the night. I quickly scribble a note to my parents apologizing for everything and telling them I can’t stay while he’s here. When it seems safe I scurry out of my room with my bags, slip the note under their bedroom door and quickly go out to my car.

I send Jimin a quick text telling him I’m going back to my apartment. I apologize to him because I know he doesn’t want me driving this late, but I feel I have no choice.

I take one big breath and pull out of the driveway without looking back.

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