jaegerbomb @mdejaeger - Tumblr Blog

maeve de jaeger - the intro !

*sips tea* give this girl all the gossip but first; get to know her !

#intro #➳ ❪ intro ❫#kingshead:intro

chonicentral

CHERYL BLOSSOM — Riverdale, 6.08 “The Town”

#➳ ❪ photographs ❫#slay queen

prettyfamous

Madelaine Petsch | Paris Fashion Week | Sheraz Debbich | January 2022

#YESSSS QUEEEN #➳ ❪ photographs ❫

kai-masaki:

“No? I, we’re friends,” Kai explained. He had no idea that the gym had security and was slightly intimidated by this girl. “I’m an only child– no siblings.” Not that it mattered, but he felt as if he needed to say something. “Oh– you don’t, like…like my job has a book that has everybody’s schedule and clients for the day,” Kai looked around but spotted nothing of the sort. Maybe they were just more organized here. “You don’t keep track of clients? How do you guys take lunch breaks and stuff?” Shit. Maybe he should’ve brought her lunch instead. “Non-dairy, got it. I don’t think I’ll be bringin’ you anything anytime soon since I don’t know you, but uh…non-dairy is cool. Do you work here every day with Chloe? I don’t think she’s ever mentioned you…” he trailed off, looking around for her once more.

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❛ Interesting. ❜ Friends. Sure. Funny how this was the first time she saw him there then. It felt an awful lot like a boyfriend thing to bring Chloe things while she was at work, however if the man wanted to deny it then so be it. Maeve could have a little fun with it in that case. Although her face turned very uninterested when he kept going and told her he didn’t have any siblings at all. It wasn’t anything special; neither did she. ❛ I’m sure it’s somewhere but not in my office and also I don’t really care, ❜ Maeve shrugged. Well sure, she checked occassionally but this was work. Unless she wanted something from her co-workers, she didn’t check their schedule. They had her clients, she had hers. ❛ Oh really? Too bad, I thought we were forming a friendship now and you clearly bring coffee for your friends. ❜ A smirk tugged at her lips. ❛ I have, for a couple of years. Maybe she just doesn’t talk about work a lot. ❜ Maeve would at least think Chloe would talk about her a little bit, even if it was just because the redhead could clearly frustrate her now and then but apparently she didn’t speak of it with this man. ❛ We’ve known each other for a while. ❜

#kai-masaki #➳ ❪ interactions ❫

chloexli:

The day might come where Chloe felt should disclose some bits and pieces of her personal life to Maeve, but it just wasn’t the best time for her. She was dealing with plenty as it was, and trying to weave through a conversation with someone she had seemingly very little in common with wasn’t something she felt the need to add to her plate just yet. She had plenty of people to talk to, and Maeve didn’t need to be one of them. Chloe gave her an incredulous look before her eyes drifted back to the clipboard. “Yeah, the clients.” She handed it over to Maeve, two people in their early 30s, just wanting to get in shape for the coming summer. Beating the resolution crowd to the start.

.

For someone who loved to know everything about everyone else, people knew surprisingly little about Maeve herself. Sure, some might think they knew a lot but in truth, she usually just let people know the interesting parts that she deemed necessary for them to know and they could judge all they wanted. Where she came from, where she’d been and what she’d done and what she worked with, the last part very important for business to flourish of course but her brand kind of promoted itself because of her time in the model industry. ❛ Thank you, ❜ she mused, still high up on her horse as she took the clipboard from her co worker. ❛ Ah wonderful, they’re getting a head start with their new year’s resolution. Let’s see how that goes, ❜ she scoffed softly and raised her brows. Hopefully a few stayed but it was like that every year; an insane amount of people arrived in january only to disappear into thin air. However, the gym made a lot of money on it so it didn’t really matter. It was just difficult to pick out who would really stay.

#chloexli #➳ ❪ interactions ❫

chonicentral

madelame: tits out for ‘22

#➳ ❪ photographs ❫

alessxdinatale:

where: Antipasto Station with: @kingsheadstarters

The minute his eyes landed on the station, Aless knew exactly where he would be heading. Hands carefully grabbed onto the ceramic plate, his brown eyes peering frantically through the mask as he looked at the plethora of imported cheeses, the different cuts of meat, the fruit, the array of wines. The aroma itself was tantalizing, though the true test of the cuts would come down to a simple science: just where Lily had imported them. He found himself asking the server on the other side of the table which cities each came from, before he had a plate filled to the brim. He stopped short just as he was about to pop in a piece of cheese into his mouth, “There’s plenty left, I just wanted a full table tour so to speak. Onestamente.”

.

Heels created a rhythmic kind of ticking noise against the floor as Maeve walked through the crowd, slowing down when she got closer to a row of tables with a large variation of foods. They had really gone all out for thid event, hadn’t they? Perhaps why the ticket was so expensive but Maeve wouldn’t have minded it costing even more so they could really get rid of the people that didn’t fit in. Why was there idiots in every corner and where did they find $90 for one night? They’d probably been saving up all year. Carefully eyeing the antipasto station Maeve spotted a man filling his plate to the brim like there wasn’t anything that would ever make him full. One of her brows raised in a judgmental expression, eyes widening when he turned towards her and tried his best to explain. His mask might cover half his face but Maeve recognized him, although the italian was what really gave him away as a Di Natale. ❛ You know you can go more times than one, right? ❜ she asked. ❛ I hope people move out of your way because all of that would be terribly embarrassing to spill over that probably expensive tux. ❜

#alessxdinatale #just assuming our other thread we're barely started not terribly between them LMAO #➳ ❪ interactions ❫#khh:event002

maeve de jaeger: new year’s eve masquerade

red and black glitter dress with a thick, black belt, plunging neckline, skirt longer back than front, black choker, slightly sparkling fishnet stockings, louboutin heels and a dark red mask that doesn’t cover her face all that much. paired with a black faux fur coat because cold.

#khh:event002 #➳ ❪ fashion ❫

greysonadler:

–

“At this point that might make sense.” Though really given his girlfriend…wait was she his girlfriend? She sure felt like it but he hadn’t exactly asked her yet - well since Olivia whatever she might be was a hair and make-up artist maybe he should have been taking tips instead of mocking her so that he didn’t sound like an idiot. “Just that charming aren’t I?” He drawled with extra dramatic emphasis on his words though really he never had tried to keep them much since Holly, not till Olivia anyway. Taking the tool from her with a nod Greyson offered a large grin. He’d half expected that she would either be bored by now or she would straight up refuse to take part in anything that could get the gear she was wearing mucky, especially since her singular outfit looked like it cost more than his whole wardrobe. “And since you came down here, when have you ever known me get left to the fun jobs huh?” It wasn’t like he was ever left with this jobs. “But something fun? I might have a girlfriend…”

.

❛ Don’t tempt me, ❜ she scoffed playfully. Maeve could admit Greyson was charming but she’d said enough so she only gave him a wry smile and a raise of one of her brows. He was certainly a man who had made a name for himself in town, doing good things of course, and that alone was attractive. His physique did help though, no doubt eye candy in the summers at the ranch. The redhead leaned against the seat when he’d taken the tool from her hand, tilting her head to watch what he was doing even though she didn’t really care much, as long as it was fixed in the end the how didn’t matter to her. ❛ I mean, that’s what you get for owning the whole thing, ❜ she teased with a soft chuckle before her lips shaped into a soft o at the something fun. ❛ A girlfriend, huh? I take it you haven’t talked about the labeling yet. Someone I know, maybe? ❜

#greysonadler #➳ ❪ interactions ❫

joelderby:

“I could tell you your fuckin’ eyes are brown and you’d call me a liar.” She’d mock him for it too. Stick the point of her heels between the pebbles of his spine and ask him to stand. “Now, that’s funny,” he shoves the bud of his cigarette against a crack in the wall, his hands retreating into his pockets for warmth. Too uncertain if the harsh bite was a gift from the season or his current company. “Conversations work both ways, Princess. You could tell me to fuck off, walk the fuck away or not even acknowledge me. I might be many things but I’m not out ‘ere demanding your time. You give that to me willingly.” Joel could not deny the moments in which he thought of her; how his mind would stir, contorting itself to deny the hours they had shared. How they appeared and disappeared just as quickly as he had imagined them. Always arriving wrapped with a bow of both doubt and disbelief. They were different in all the ways fire and ice existed at each side of a spectrum. Too far apart to collide as they had. How absurd to believe she had once been the very source of his heartbeat. Now he could barely feel the decaying organ within him. ”Poisonous,” he matches her tone verbatim. He’d spit it out if it vexed her further. “You’re poison.” She’s as pale as marrow under this light and he has thought long and hard on this sequence. Each rendition different than the next. He’d suppose reality was further removed. She’s as pale as marrow and he’s thought twice now whether to leave before the annoyance turns into ash - before he seeks someone else out that could make him feel half as human as she once had.

.

Brown eyes rolled as he mentioned them, hopefully hiding any hint of sentimental affection she had for him. Maeve would pretend she didn’t know the exact color of his eyes; blues that could pierce your soul in the right light. She’d pretend she didn’t know anything about him, not even the way his lips felt on her skin or the precise lines of his tattoos that she’d followed with the tips of her fingers. Perhaps he’d covered them with new ink in the past few years. Why would she care? ❛ You’re out here smelling like a whole ashtray on your own. Pretty hard to ignore, ❜ she scoffed. The redhead could absolutely walk away and he reminded her she could, yet it felt like her heels had dug into the ground, keeping her from walking away. Manicured brows raised as she leaned in closer, the height she gained on him in heels really giving her more power than she should be allowed. ❛ Possible. But not the kind that will kill you, babe. More like a cigarette... You only want more, ❜ she smirked, letting the moment pause for a second that felt longer than it was before her back straightened and a grin dressed her lips. Her name was called just in time, from the entrance to the Octavium. Maeve let’s go! ❛ Doei, ashtray. ❜

#kfdlhsglkdh BITCH #joelderby #➳ ❪ interactions ❫#doei is goodbye in dutch it sounds cute she probably uses it a lot lmaoo

humorblr

#➳ ❪ photographs ❫

joelderby:

His failures - the sentiment arrived with a sting, surfacing somewhere between his third and fourth rib. It twisted, prodded, poked between the bones, reminding him of her insistence to wield the blade. He felt the dryness of his throat, the uncomfortable crook to his spine, the flaring of his nostrils. He felt a great deal more hollow than he once had - though hollow space allows much more room for flame - and it was without a doubt because of the factuality of her chosen words. Carefully selected as if to keel him over. As if with each inhale the sharpness would refuse to dull. Joel’s fingers twitched further - oh, how he demanded a drop of liquor - but he stuffed his free hand into his pocket and allowed it to tremble there. His insistence to offer a response to her query dissipating as she encroached further, his remaining hand clutching the cigarette between his lips; an inhale hissing between the shake of his head. He hoped the taste of ash on his tongue would kill the desire to bite at the line she had thrown. Though he was not a man to act so hesitantly. “That’s cute,” it’s mocking, flagrant condescension. “I’m guessing you chant that in the mirror each night in hopes it makes Daddy still love you.” Even a woman such as her would yearn to be loved. He knew that more than he had once liked. His eyes observe her beneath this blanket of night; brow arching, gaze attempting to disclose an open nerve. “I couldn’t give a shit if you’re fuckin’ Tutankhamun, Sticks. You ain’t shit to me. Bland and broken - just like the rest of these folk.”

.

Maeve’s eyes narrowed when he spoke back, a small smile tugging at one of the corners of her lips. This was what she had worked for. Even if it would sound terrible to anyone overhearing them. It ignited something inside of her. She was always burning, a fire inside few could put out. Joel was like gasoline when he wasn’t water but for him to be the latter she had to let him. She believed he’d lost that privilige, even though he already knew her colors, all her sides. That was it, wasn’t it? He knew too much, so he got the worst and they bounced off each other’s flames, tossing it back and forth which only made it burn brighter. It was a game and Maeve enjoyed it even when it hurt. ❛ Joel. I don’t have daddy issues, but my daddy has wife issues, ❜ she stated as if it was actually amusing. It was annoying. Maeve had liked not even a handful of the women his dad had brought into his, formerly their, home. However, he did divorce the worst one when Maeve had told him what she did. He loved his daughter and she loved the way he showed it, usually in a materialistic and spoiling way. Joel just didn’t get it. Of course, a father’s love wasn’t like someone else’s, was it? But Maeve stood by that she was good on her own, that she has such high standards that no one could meet them. Joel didn’t. Yet she’d still loved him. A word she’d only said to him once when it was too late. ❛ Oh honey, I’m the last person in this town who should be called bland, ❜ she scoffed, eyes locked with his, refusing to acknowledge how her heart skipped a beat. She knew they weren’t true. He’s wrong. Again. ❛ You need to come up with insults I can actually believe. ❜ Her teeth slowly bit down on her lower lip, head tilting to the side slightly. ❛ And if I’m not shit to you then... maybe don’t strike up a conversation every time we’re in close proximity to each other. ❜ Her words were quippy but dipped with venom, one of truth laced with something that’d draw him in because whether she liked it or not, his attention was as addictive as the stick between his lips. ❛ Pathetic. ❜ Yet, Maeve knew she did the same thing sometimes. Just for the inferno.

#joelderby #➳ ❪ interactions ❫

draumas

#➳ ❪ photographs ❫

joelderby:

As usual. A laugh filtered between his exhale as she spoke, contorting his features. He’d suppose she grew comfortable with begrudging him. It felt all too natural to do so. Joel wasn’t a particularly likeable man - he was crass, said the wrong thing. Too confident for a man of his stature. Yet, he revelled in it, welcomed both her bite and bark. He’d prod the points in which incited it most. As if loathing him was the most passionate emotion he could make her feel. “Sweetheart, if I was wrong that often I’d be pretty shit at my job.” He held the cigarette between his teeth momentarily. Recognised the importance of past tense in regards to his profession. It wasn’t so much a would be but a would have. His downfall from grace would continue to haunt him. “Would’ve been. Reckon that ship sailed and sunk like the fuckin’ Titanic.” Her demand prompted his head to tilt. Astonishment angling the scruff corners of his jawbone. “Make me, Red.” The retort arrives with a scoff, a languid inhale and exhale following suit. He’d smoke the whole pack if it taunted her most. “There’s only one place I take orders and it isn’t stood in the middle of the fuckin’ street. No one’s bowing down to you here, your Highness.”

.

Scepticism quickly fell over her face when he spoke of his job. Was he in denial? She was just about to tell him; he’d lost it. Then he seemed to realize it himself and it pushed a scoff past her lips. Jack had sunk like a rock. Rose lived, and this particular rose was still thriving, moved on like her man had drowned at sea. ❛ Good to hear you’re acknowleding your failures, ❜ she quipped as if she was congratulating him. Maeve knew the story, she wasn’t dumb. Joel was good at his job and she knew it. The fact that he’d lost it the way he did was a true shame and she did feel sorry for him. However, there was nothing she could do about him falling to the bottom of the barrel. Well escept for his music - it wasn’t terrible but it didn’t provide stability. The man didn’t even have a place of his own. She wanted to ask when he’d get his lisence back but the words weren’t leaving her lips, probably ever. It would open up a door that made it sound like she cared and that wasn’t happening. Not between the two of them. That door was closed and locked. ❛ You’d like that wouldn’t you? ❜ she said without even looking at him, looking up at the dark sky filled with tiny little sparkles of light, twinkling as if they were dancing to the beat inside the Octavium. ❛ Ah yes, you do like to beg sometimes, ❜ she pretended to pretend to reminisce before she stepped closer, trying not to breathe in the smoke billowing past his lips. ❛ But here’s the thing, darling; they do. I am someone. In Cali. In Cape town. Even in little King’s Head Harbor. ❜

#drowning mention tw #➳ ❪ interactions ❫#joelderby

joelderby:

time: 21:30 location: outside the octavium status: closed for @mdejaeger

He faces the inky black of night, brick wall at his back. A cacophony exists behind him; a meld of music contained within the four walls of the Octavium. The winter’s air is bitter against his flush cheeks - faux-fur of his jacket tucked tightly around his jawbone. One half is shadowed by the night beyond, the other lit with the flickering entryway light. He’s caught between passing conversations with fellow chain-smokers, his fingers itching for his empty flask, willing it full again. There’s a laugh which vibrates from somewhere deep within him as he inhales, the smoke filtering his lungs. It’s all too commonplace for a man such as Joel to belong amongst people such as this. Their conversations only ever surface level. Still, as they converse, he allows his gaze to skim over a mass of idle bodies as water would over smooth rock. It lingers, caught on a snag - the water, it seems, does not wear the stone to something soft and malleable. It lingers and it’s uncharacteristically self-effacing; a still moment, not a thorn nestled within her side. For a moment, he cannot help but feel disgruntled at his own response, at how quickly he could flinch at the first sight of red. He stills himself; taking a practiced drag, the smoke billowing from his nostrils. “Didn’t take you for a fan,” he challenges, finally, brow raised and lips curling into a comfortable smirk. It feels all too familiar to settle as he does, surrounded by unknown faces and yet entirely focused on her alone. “Fleetwood Mac are somethin’, huh?”

.

Despite always saying rock wasn’t her sound she was still at the Octavium tonight but there was no doubt Fleetwood Mac had a different sound than what the local so-called-rock-band played. That was entirely different, too loud and completely unnecessary. This was soft rock with a beat she could get on, a sort of vintage band that felt like a party and a warm hug at the same time. Additionally, her friends were there, talking and dancing away with drinks in their hands. It all put a smile to Maeve’s face. A geniuine one, with laughter filling her lungs. Feeling sweat drip down her cleavage she let herself take that much needed break from the loud noise and drunk people rubbing their bodies against hers like she was the home of a genie already before 10pm. Finishing her second cocktail of the night Maeve fetched her jacket quickly and stepped outside. A small cloud of smoke left her mouth as she exhaled, smirking softly at her friend who stepped away towards the man she’d brought as a date. The expression easily fell off her features when she heard a far too familiar voice, hazel hues taking him in after she had turned her head. Maeve gave him a moment of silence, one of her brows raising slightly. For a moment she felt as if her tongue had been tied into a knot but when she opened her mouth words flowed easily, like a stream in the spring after a whole winter of being held captive by the ice. ❛ Then you’re wrong, as usual, ❜ she said flatly, pushing a red lock of hair behind her shoulder. ❛ Put that out, it smells disgusting, ❜ she scoffs, refusing to acknowledge the fact that the smell of cigarettes accompanied with his voice somehow felt like home.