#Keeper group chat

[doodle-do-wop]

MARELLA REDEK

LAST BUT NOT LEAST: MARELLA ADENE REDEK

world's shortest firecracker (written by Stina)(approved by Maruca)(disapproved by Marella)

(i love making shitty memes with these portraits)

and thats all the horse girls!!(minus Linh cause Chrissabug already drew her)

[bewarethecircles]

After a vacation in Alpha Centauri, Gabriel and Beelzebub come back to earth and move in together. They proceed to be the worst and most baffling neighbors anyone in the neighborhood has ever experienced. 

They introduced themselves as Bee and Jim, but immediately started laughing about it, so people are pretty sure those aren't their real names. 

Neither of them seem to have jobs, but they must be rich, because their house is massive and they're always wearing fancy clothes, and their wallets are bursting with money. Maybe they’re in the mafia?

Speaking of fancy clothes, “Jim” is always wearing designer suits. There is an ongoing game where people attempt to take a picture of him in any other clothes. One time, an enterprising teenager went so far as to sneak over in the middle of the night to look into his bedroom (hoping he’d be in pajamas), and saw him still in a suit, Standing on Top of the Bed, eyes wide open and Smiling Brightly. (Gabriel has not gotten the hang of sleeping yet.) (The teenager refuses to go near the house ever again.)

The short one, “Bee,” is consistently trailed by flies. This is alarming to everyone. They say that they're a “fly-keeper,” but people are pretty sure that's not a thing. Do they carry rotting meat around or something?

Bee also seems to be constantly changing appearances. One day they have a buzz cut, the next day their hair goes to their mid-back. Their eyes are a different colour every time you see them. People have set up cameras to take pictures of them on different days, and upon comparing them they are Definitely almost 6 inches taller this week. Even their facial features shift. 

It gets to the point where people decide Jim must just have multiple partners, and be lying about it. (“Multiple partners that all look similar and are never seen together?” the opposition will point out. When asked if they have a better theory, they can never answer.)

The two of them will have romantic moments Anywhere, including standing in the middle of the highway staring into each others eyes. By all rights they should have been run over, but in a bizarre coincidence every car in the area ran out of fuel and stopped moving at that exact moment. People want to blame Jim for it (he did make a strange hand movement, after all), but that would just be absurd.

They use the absolute worst pet names for each other. A list of overheard ones is being recorded. “My rotten cabbage?” “My hell-bringer?” “Dearest packet of crisps??” 

You cannot let them notice that you're disgusted by their lovey-doveyness. They will either get exponentially more cringey, or straight up insult you until you run away crying. Or both. 

“Everyday” by Buddy Holly will be audible to the whole block at all times. Do they know other songs exist? Don't they get bored of this one?? Why is it so loud???

There’s a statue of Jim in the front yard. Its 20 feet tall and definitely a HOA violation, but people are too scared to mention it. Both Bee and Jim will come out at different times and spend hours staring at it dreamily. 

People would hate them, but ever since they moved in the weather has been perfect, crime is at an all time low, and there’s little trucks that go around selling hot chocolate, and those things Probably cant be because of them, but still...

Plus, Jim doesn’t understand how money works at all, so he’ll give you $300 for a bag of chips. It's endearing, even if he is sometimes a jerk.

Bee does seem to know how money works, but they’ll frequently pay even more than Jim, especially if the person seems overworked and the place is under-staffed. They say they have experience with it.

After a month of them living there, most of the neighborhood is in a group chat created to discuss the two of them. Beelzebub is secretly in the chat, and reads their favourite theories to Gabriel. 

A rumour starts going around that they're an angel and a demon in disguise, but no one can agree which one is which. 

Beelzebub is the one who started the rumour. 

If anyone writes a fic with any of this by all means tag me I'd love to see it!!

[bluerosefox]

Courting Chaos (to Balance)

A KlarionxDanny brain worm that has spawned

Tim Drake, aka Red Robin gets kidnapped suddenly and very randomly by Klarion in the middle of a JL and others meeting.

Leaving with a

"I'LL RETURN HIM WHEN HES NO LONGER USEFUL JUSTICE LOSERS!"

And fire and chaos in his wake.

While the JL, and others scramble to figure out what Klarion has planned this time, Tim manages to break free of whatever Klarion had used to kidnap him only to find himself on a couch and Klarion nervously petting Teekl on his lap while also sitting in a chair across from him.

When Tim goes to demand to know why Klarion kidnapped him Klarion finally speaks.

"Okay, I wanna strike a deal. I won't bug you or your little Young Just US buddies if you help me ask someone out..."

"...What the fuck Klarion?" Was Tim's only response.

-x-x-

So it turns out, every so often the three main entities and actual factions of Order, Chaos, and Balance get together to well discuss things happening in certain Realms, worlds, and timelines. Basicly to touch base, see where everyone was at. Etc etc.

Order was Order. Chaos was Chaos.

Very simple.

Both could be bad. To much order caused restraint and could snuff out growth. To much Chaos could get out of hand and cause ruin.

Both could be good. Order help stabilizes worlds and builds their future. Chaos allowed creativity to roam and brought forth wonderful things.

And Balance.

Well Balance was the very scales that kept both sides in check. They were neutral grounds. The ones that normally oversaw the meetings as well. And despite their low numbers they held powerful entities that more than made up for it.

Balance did their best to keep things in check, sure they do have their own preference sometimes and allowed the scales to tip a tiny bit but always corrected it later if it tips to much.

It was at this meeting, a meeting even Klarion knew better than to do anything too chaotic, pranks were fine but nothing too much, and had been chatting with a newcomer to the side of Chaos (Danielle, call me Ellie, Phantom. She did some heroing on the side but liked causing chaos in her wake to do so, he liked her so far though.) When the bells for the side of Balance to appear announced them.

Ellie had smiled brightly and said her brother was coming with his mentor, turns out her brother was apart of the Balance group which meant that he was strong, strong enough to need a mentor.

He watched as the members of Balance walked, teleported, flew, and other means into the meeting halls. And then froze when his eyes caught sight of him.

Floating next to a blue skined being that was switching ages was a beautiful otherworldly person.

Snow white hair that wisped upwards oh so softly. Glowing green eyes that were cat-like with their piercing glance. A galaxy cloak hanged around his shoulders and seemed to shift with each movement. Star like freckles decorated his face and seemed to glow a soft bluish white. A crown made of ice and aurora lights floated above his head as well.

All in all Klarion couldn't keep his eyes off of the being at all. He nearly spat his water out when Ellie commented that was her brother Danny, or rather.

High King of the Infinite Realms, Daniel 'Danny' Phantom. The Great One. Defeater of the Tyrant King. The Halfa. The Peaceful End. The Balance of the Undead. (And his mentor was the Ghost of Time itself. THE very Keeper of Time, Kronos original form himself.)

Klarion honestly didn't know what to think or rather what emotions he was feeling when he spotted Danny, nor why his face felt so hot and red when the young man looked over at them and smiled. (He was smiling at Ellie but Klarion for some reason hoped it was for him as well)

It wasn't until halfway in the meeting when a rather ingenious prank that Klarion, Ellie, and a few others had set up went off... thing was it strong enough that it had hit Danny's side of the meeting and had hit him.

Now, again pranks were okay but only after the meetings. It was one of the few rules many, even those in Chaos, took seriously because once it was done and over they could go do their things. So for it to happen in the middle of a meeting means someone set their time on the prank wrong and add the fact it hit a person on the Balance side...

Yeah not good.

Only...

Only instead of getting angry, even Clockwork who was seated next to Danny was chuckling, Danny threw his head back and laughed about it. And his laugh... was very cute.

And before he knew it, Klarion had already fallen.

-x-x-

"So yeah.... Since you have a boyfriend and know how to date in this modern age, I need your advice."

".... Klarion just because I'm dating Bernard doesn't mean I know how I did it..."

"Bernard? I thought you were dating that one Supes?"

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Urban Cowboy - Jake Seresin x Reader

pairing: Jake Seresin x f! reader

warnings/content: smut, unprotected p in v, mildly mean!dom Jake, teasing, jealous Jake

word count: 3.2k

The sounds of some 80s pop song echoed throughout the Hard Deck, a cheap colourful strobe light flashed around the room, its rainbow coloured beams striking random bargoers as they began to dance along to whatever was playing. It was new idea your aunt had come up with - doing theme nights at the bar once a month as a way to freshen things up and breathe new life into the military bar scene. 

Since you moved here four months ago, you’d gotten familiar with the regulars - there was Bradley Bradshaw, a man far older than he looked, with a penchant for comandeering the piano if the bar needed livening up, Natasha Trace, who had a fiery personality and often kept the other guys in their place, especially when the beers were flowing and they started flirting with unsuspecting patrons, Robert Floyd, the shy backseater who was always polite, tipped well and seemed to be the permanent designated driver on nights out, Reuben Fitch, who stood about a foot taller than you, and always had a witty comeback on hand, just in case, Mickey Garcia, who was sweet, but could talk anyone’s ear off about Star Trek, and Javy Machado, resident score keeper and pool table champion. 

Leading the group, was your Aunt Penny’s boyfriend, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. He often would come in, finding a table at the back of the room for his squad before abandoning them to spend the evening at the bar, chatting your aunt up and offering up any excuse to come behind the bar and sneak a hand to her hip or steal a squeeze of her rear. It was sweet the way your aunt and Pete were loved up, like a couple of teenagers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. 

This afternoon, Pete came in at four o’clock sharp, just as he promised to help set up. As he hung a couple of decorations you and your aunt had managed to find online, he turned to you and smiled, watching as you prepped the theme night’s cocktail menu.

“I forgot to tell you, another one of my guys is going to be here tonight. He’s been off training at a different base for the last few months, just landed in this morning. You’ll like him. He’s a firecracker.”

“Isn’t that your way of saying he’s a cocky asshole?”

“I wouldn’t say asshole. He’s just very…confident. I think you’ll like him though.”

“Are you talking about Jake?” Penny piped up as she looked at Pete, watching as he climbed up the step ladder to hang another decoration from the ceiling.

“Yeah, don’t you think they’d hit it off?”

“I think she might hit him.”

“What? No way. Jake’s not that bad.”

Penny scoffed and shook her head, laughing. Holding her hands up in surrender, she walked away, retreating back to the bar to begin making sure all the key ingredients to your drink menu were where they needed to be. You continued to stuff the evening’s special menus into their plastic protective sleeves, shaking your head at Pete’s attempts to try and set you up with someone from his squad. It wasn’t the first time, you’d been on a date with Bradley once before, but found the age gap was too great between the two of you, with Bradley in complete agreement that you were much better suited as friends than lovers, and on a date with Reuben, who, despite efforts between the two of you, there was no chemistry shared there. 

As five o’clock approached, you hurried into the back stockroom to change into your themed outfit for the night, pulling your hair out of the velcro rollers that Penny had helped you wrap your hair up into, creating the perfect 80s voluminous curl that would make even Christie Brinkley jealous. Your tight fitting Daisy Duke style shorts accentuated your curves, hugging your thighs and hips in all the right places, your crisp white button down shirt tied just under your bra, showing off your tanned, soft midsection. A pair of mid-sized silver hoop earrings hung from your earlobes to complete the look. Your aunt’s stash of Aqua-Net hairspray was all you needed to finish it off, stepping out the back door to shake your curls out and spray them with enough hairspray to ensure they wouldn’t budge for the night. 

You reentered the bar to find Pete’s friends piling in, the other regular patrons all trickling in and getting comfortable as they came through, turning the bar into a sea of cheesy fake mustaches and 80s style Hawaiian shirts, brightly coloured polos and coordinating Bermuda shorts, wigs and legwarmers. The evening was quickly livening up, and you got to work behind the bar with your aunt, pulling pints and mixing drinks, firing off orders left right and center as the bar filled with partygoers. 

An hour into the night, Bradley approached the bar, his aviator sunglasses perched atop his chocolate coloured curls, his loud, brightly coloured Hawaiian print shirt buttoned just enough to allow a few sparing curls of chest hair to peek out from the top. He leaned against the bar, smiling at you, his mustache neatly combed to closer resemble a style from the 80s. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was trying to emulate Tom Selleck. You’d seen pictures of Bradley’s dad and Pete from back in the 80s, and recognized the shirt anywhere. It was clear Bradley was dressed identically to his father, and you had to admire the dedication he had to the theme. 

“What can I get you, Bradshaw?”

“Hi dollface, I’ll take a Budweiser. And a chance to take you for a spin later?”

“We’ve done this before, Bradley,” you laughed as you cracked the top off the beer bottle and slid it across the counter to him. Bradley shook his head as he sipped the frothy liquid, grinning as he set the bottle down on the counter.

“I didn’t mean you. I’m practicing. I can’t be dressed like this and not use some kind of weird 80s shit to impress a girl, right? I’m just…using you for practice. Did it work?”

“Bradley, why don’t you, I don’t know, just, be yourself?” 

“Because tonight I’m not myself. I’m some single 39 year old in the 80s trying to get a date, apparently.”

“Well then, gag me with a spoon, that was gnarly. Try a different line. One that doesn’t begin with “dollface”?”

“Got it, thanks!”

You watched as Bradley sauntered away to go try his luck with a pretty blonde over by the jukebox. You smirked to yourself as you heard Bradley start singing along to Madonna, carrying the tune with an impressive baritone that you weren’t expecting. You knew he could sing, but singing Madonna was a whole new side to him. Turning your back for a moment, you began fixing a drink for yourself, mixing together the ingredients for a Shirley Temple. You looked up to see a tall, broad-shouldered blonde man approach the bar counter, his hair slicked back, and a blonde mustache that made poor Bradley’s look unimpressive rested on his upper lip. The most stunning pair of bright green eyes looked at you, and a set of perfectly straight, whitened teeth fresh out of a Colgate commercial flashed a smile at you.

“Hi Darlin’, I’ll take whatever’s on tap.”

“Sure thing,” You nodded, trying hard not to audibly gulp at the adonis of a man standing in front of you. 

“Are you new ‘round here?” he drawled, “I’d remember a pretty face like yours.”

“Uh, within the last four months, yeah.” you nodded as you finished pulling a pint of draught for him, the frothy head of the beer perfectly resting in the glass. 

“Oh! That’ll explain it. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, at your service, m’am.” He winked, and you felt yourself melt a little at the sight of this human embodiment of a Ken doll flirting with you. 

“You’re Jake?”

“Depends who’s askin’, Honey.” His accent was thick and heavy, something straight out of those reruns of The Andy Griffiths Show that your mom made you watch when you were a child.

“I’m Penny’s niece,” you nodded, giving him your name and laughing softly as your cheeks blushed, “I moved down here to help her out with things around here while I try to figure some life things out.”

“I see,” he smirked, sipping his beer, the foam brushing against his mustache as he set the glass down. “And does that list of things you’re figuring out include finding a strong, charming, handsome Southern boy?”

“It might, do you know any?” You quipped, raising an eyebrow as you sipped your own drink, pretending to feign disinterest in the handsome stranger before you.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“That so, hun? Who? Do I know him?”

“Not yet, but I think he sure would like to know you, Darlin’.”

You shook your head, your curls bouncing as you started to laugh, unable to control yourself. Jake was as bold as he was handsome, and you were suddenly realizing what Pete was referring to when he said that Jake was confident. He practically exuded a cocksure confidence from every pore in his body. And while that would normally repulse you and send you heading for the hills, with Jake, it felt different. You couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, his magnetic charms and graces pulling you in, and your inhibitions wearing down. However, you also knew how to deal with men like this - he was in need of an ego check, and you were just the person for the job. 

“Is that right? Well, you tell your little Southern-fried wannabe cowboy of a friend that if he’s interested, he’s going to have to stick around the bar all night. I promised Aunt Penny I’d help her make sure this night went smoothly, and I don’t need a knockoff Dukes of Hazzard cast member distracting me.” 

“Wannabe cowboy?” Jake gasped in feigned offence, clutching his chest dramatically as he slipped into an even thicker accent than earlier, “Now Darlin’, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re breakin’ my heart over here. One thing I ain’t is a wannabe cowboy. You know, I used to ride in rodeos as a kid? Was one of the best there was for under 15 year olds, ‘til I decided to join the Navy instead.”

“Oh, so you’re like, a real cowboy then,” you teased, your voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“S’pose you could say that. Only one real way to find out, ain’t there?”

“Take you to a farm and watch you wrangle cattle on horseback?” you retorted sarcastically.

“You’re funny, I like that.”

“I bet you do.” 

Jake leaned in across the bar, a smirk forming on his lips as he looked at you, his bright green eyes fixated on your lips as you spoke. His long eyelashes fluttered at you as he eyed you up, practically undressing you with his imagination. You grinned as you gestured to the sign behind you, reading that if you disrespect a lady, you owe everyone a round. 

“Watch it, Lieutenant. If you’re not careful, I’ll go ring that bell and you’ll learn a very expensive lesson.”

“Oh, Darlin’, I can guarantee, I ain’t gonna learn anything from it. I’m just dumb enough to do it again. Can’t help myself around a pretty girl like yourself.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you laughed at his relentless attempt. You knew the only reason he persisted was because you were teasing him, but at the same time, you didn’t mind the attention he was giving you. He wasn’t as tall as Bradley, or as broad shouldered, but he was built like a linebacker, with a solid frame and the accent alone was enough to drive you crazy.

It was almost 11 when Jake stopped you again, this time, outside of the stockroom when you’d disappeared back there for more maraschino cherries and pineapple juice. He leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, causing his pastel-coloured polo shirt to bulge around his biceps. His lips curled up in that annoyingly perfect smile once again as he stood in your path.

“Hey, Honey, need a hand with that?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you shrugged it off, shaking your head as you smirked at him, “You often follow girls into storage rooms?”

“Only the ones worth following.”

“Wow, Lieutenant, with a response like that, it’s a wonder you don’t have a trail of broken hearts following you around.”

“What is your issue, anyway? You got a thing against blondes? Pilots?”

“Please,” you smirked, shaking your head, “I went on a date with Rooster. He’s a pilot.”

“Is it ‘cause I’m from Texas?”

“No, it’s because you’re probably the most arrogant prick I’ve ever had the displeasure of coming across, actually. God, it’s like you think all you have to do is flash that stupid handsome smile and I’ll throw myself at you.”

Jake’s face fell slightly as he raised an eyebrow at you. You could tell he wasn’t used to having a girl put him in his place like this, but his crestfallen gaze was quickly replaced by that shit-eating grin he seemed to never go without sporting. 

“Honey, you’re real pretty when you get mean like that.”

“You’re impossible,” you sighed in exasperation.

“But you love it, don’t you?” 

Jake closed the gap between the two of you as he spoke, taking a couple steps closer to you. You bit your lip as you hesitated, thinking about the consequences that might follow if you acted on your desires. 

Fuck it. 

Your hands gripped the fabric of his polo shirt, pulling him down to your height as you crashed your lips into his passionately. You kissed a slow, hot trail up to his ear, a breathy moan escaping your lips as he put his hands on your hips to bring you in as close as possible, his body heat radiating on to you. 

“You gonna show me just how good you are, Cowboy?”

“Yes, m’am. I reckon I could show you a better time than any other man in here.”

Jake’s hand slipped down your curves, reaching around to cup your ass cheeks as he hoisted you up effortlessly, wrapping your legs around your waist. You quickly discarded the cherries and juice that were in your hands, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. Jake’s lips worked their way along your neck, wet, fervent kisses that made your body squirm with pleasure, your arousal growing and burning in your stomach with each second. 

“Back door?” He murmured against your neck, his hands keeping a firm hold of your ass.

“Two steps behind me, to the left,” you panted, nodding your head as he sucked on your skin. 

It was unseasonably warm for May, the humidity hanging in the air as you left the air conditioned building. Jake pushed you up against the wall, using it as leverage as he quickly reached down to undo your shorts and wiggled them out of the way. He ran two of his thick fingers along the outside of your lace underwear, stroking the dampened fabric as he smirked to himself.

“Someone’s eager, aren’t ya, Darlin’?”

“Just shut up and fuck me, ok?”

“Now, that any way to ask for it?”

A wicked grin appeared on his face as he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, stroking at your clit with a feather light touch, just enough to make you whine for more. 

“Jake, I swear to fuck, if you don’t take me right now.”

“Shhh, Sugar, don’t want anyone to hear, do ya? Unless you get off on getting caught,” He purred as he coaxed his fingertips inside of your dripping entrance, pumping them into you with precision.

You tossed your head backwards as Jake thrusted his fingers further into you, each movement harder and faster than before. The determined look in his eye alone was almost enough to send you over the edge. This man was hell-bent on making you orgasm, and he was on the right track to get you there within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, s-so close, Jake,” you keened, your fingers gripping his thick blonde hair as he brought you to your climax.

“That’s it, Sugar. Look at you, you’re a mess and I ain’t even started on you yet.”

“J-Jake, please,” you whimpered, coming undone as he fucked his fingers into you at a breakneck pace.

“Speak up, sweetheart, can’t hear ya.”

Your head started to spin as he pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, he slammed his hips forwards, shoving his thick cock inside of you, causing you to cry out in ecstasy at the sudden fullness. Trying to be quiet, you secretly thanked your lucky stars that the sounds of Your Love by The Outfield blared throughout the club. Just as the chorus picked up, Jake rocked his hips forwards again, fucking himself into you with enough force to make you feel as though he might blow your back out right then and there.

“That’s it, Sugar, takin’ me so well,” Jake smirked, “What was that you said about bein’ a wannabe cowboy? Bet those other boys can’t fuck you like this, now can they?”

You were practically rendered speechless by Jake’s precise, rhythmic thrusts into your cunt, his masculine grunting and teasing proving enough to throw you back over the edge once again. Your legs began to shake and shudder while he bucked his hips up into you, his eyes full of lust and hunger as he brought you to your second orgasm of the night. Your walls clenched around him tightly, eliciting a low, pornographic moan out of Jake. 

Raking your fingers through his hair, tugging on it as you threw your head back, you screamed out his name, louder than you intended. You lost your ability to hold yourself together as Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, his own orgasm following close behind yours. 

“Fuck, am I good?” He groaned, his eyes pleading for permission.

“On the pill, you’re good,” you panted, nodding quickly as Jake let himself go inside of you, your name falling from his lips like a sacred prayer as he repeated it over and over, praising you.

“Now, how ‘bout letting a strong, handsome Southern boy take you out on a date so he don’t feel so bad about fucking you until you can’t walk a couple hours after meetin’ ya?” He grinned as he readjusted himself and pulled his clothes back up. 

“I think I can fit you into my schedule, on one condition.”

“Mhmm? What’s that?”

“Next time, you come wearing a cowboy hat.”

“Deal, Sugar, I’ll even let you wear it.” 

[kurishiri]

01 . . . william v.s. darius

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: none.

Today was what one would call a comfortable, ideal day.

Kate: Thank you for inviting me here, Will.

K: It really has been a while since we last visited the city. I’m really looking forward to it.

William: As am I. Besides——

W: The possibility of encountering something unexpected is another thing I do look forward to, perhaps.

The glance he gave me made my heart flutter...

Kate: I would assume there’s some reason why we’re going out to the street fair going on today, right?

...and I returned his look with a searching one of my own, seeing those lips forming a perfect arc.

William: It is a reward for a very clever and discerning little robin——

W: Ahh, before that, though, let us extend our greetings to our guest here.

When I followed his gaze, there I saw Darius, who was walking toward us with a bright, innocent smile playing on his lips.

Darius: Hello there, Sir Rex. I’ve been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to be able to chat with you.

D: Ahh, and to the little miss fairytale keeper as well. Hello there.

Kate: Hi, Darius. Were you taking a stroll?

Darius: It’s such a good day out, it would be a shame if I stayed holed up in the castle, you see.

William: So, it would appear the castle is slightly too cramped for your tastes.

Darius: Whoops, you got me.

D: The higher-ups here in the castle are so stiff and formal, I could hardly take it. In fact, it was getting a bit hard to breathe, so I came here to escape, you see.

Kate: I see, then——

I was about to invite Darius as well, when I suddenly realized something.

(That’s right, Will was about to say something a couple minutes ago too. If this outing has anything to do with a mission...)

I probably shouldn’t be the one to decide that, so I turned toward Will, only to find him staring at me with an amused expression.

William: It is as you wish, Kate.

Kate: Thank you.

(As always, he seems to know exactly what I’m thinking.)

Darius: What’s this now? Will you let me join your merry group?

Kate: Darius, how about you join us in going to a street fair?

K: Since you have come a long way to England, it would make me happy if you ended up enjoying London.

Darius: Well that sounds very interesting. Perhaps I’ll take you up on your offer.

A smile blossomed on Darius’ face in an instant, and the sight made Will narrow his eyes in response.

William: Alright then, let us share a carriage then to the fair, the three of us. [1]

—— In a carriage ——

William: So the other day, we took down a crime syndicate that committed a great many thefts,

W: and that organization would have impoverished children steal in exchange for a generous reward.

W: We have taken the children who have been used by them under custody and are supporting them now, but that is not to say we were able to completely wipe all the traces out.

Darius: ——I imagine many of those children would stain their hands with crime once again in order to survive.

D: And what better place to do so than a street fair, which is teeming with people?

D: That’s why you are going to patrol around, and should you find any child who may have relations to that organization, you will take them into custody...

D: I wonder, did my guess hit the mark, Sir Rex?

William: Straight in the mark. I would expect no less from you, director.

Darius: I’m deeply honored by your kind words.

D: Even so, though, going out to find the children who had been targeted...

D: It’s a little reminiscent to Versteckspiel.

William: Indeed, it’s fine to see this as a game of hide and seek.

W: After all, since you are staying in England for a period of time, I would like for the director of Vogel to have fun in this fair.

Kate: The fairs here in England are really fun, so I myself enjoy them too. Ah, look, we’re almost there.

When we got off the carriage in front of the fair venue, Darius’ eyes lit up at the scene before him.

Darius: Wow, it’s so lively here. Ah, what are those wavy things?

Kate: Those are garlands the people have decorated the city with. They’re all handmade, so they come in many different shapes.

Darius: Ohh, then are those flags also garlands? They have such an interesting shape. And there are so many shops I don’t know where to even start.

D: They’re a tad different from the festivals over in Germany, but the excitement never changes for any festival.

Darius’ eyes wandered around everywhere with interest, and his frolicking had a very innocent air.

(I’m glad he’s having fun. Just seeing him makes me happy as well.)

William: It seems like he is having a good time.

Kate: Right? I’m glad I invited him. Ah, look, there’s a pie wagon coming!

William: Would you care for some berry pie, director?

Will and I went to buy enough pies for three people, offering one to Darius.

However, once he took the pie, he only stared down at it, not bothering to eat any of it.

William: Oh? It is considered bad manners to eat while you stand. Or perhaps…

Without putting on any airs, Will grabbed his own portion and took a bite.

At the sight of him chewing and swallowing, seeming to enjoy the taste, Darius widened his eyes.

William: If you were worried that poison had been mixed in, let this be proof that it is a groundless worry.

Will wiped the berry sauce on the corner of his lips with his thumb, smiling as he met Darius’ gaze.

Darius: Ahaha, to think you would fulfill the role of a poison taster of your own volition… it’s almost wasted on you.

D: But, that is also groundless on your part.

D: I am actually quite good, you see, at eating with bad manners.

The next moment, he took a large bite out of the pie, stuffing his cheeks.

Kate: Oh, you’ve got cream all over your mouth.

Darius: Hmm? It’s fiiine. Here, why don’t you have some, too, miss fairytale keeper? It’s scrumptious.

Darius paid zero mind to the fact that cream was on his face,

and seeing him munching so happily——

I remembered how he had mentioned that the castle felt a bit cramped.

(So right now, I would like it if he can spread his wings out as far as he can.)

Seeing the two before me so casually eat away, naturally my cheeks started to relax.

With a liberating feeling, I also took a large bite out of my pie.

Kate: Mm! It’s really good!

(Ah, come to think of it…)

Kate: Darius, you mentioned that you like foods that are either hard to make or hard to obtain, right?

Darius: Huh?

Kate: Those types of things don’t seem to be around here, so I will try to find some again next time!

Darius: Oh wow, so you remember the things that others have said very well.

William: Our little robin here is one to take actions for others; it is one of her virtues.

W: This pie as well, I see you have chosen my favorite flavor.

Kate: Yes, as I don’t make a mistake when it comes to whatever you say tastes good.

Darius: Ah, you like strawberries, don’t you, Sir Rex?

William: Oh? How did you know?

Darius: Is it not natural to do some research on the people you want to get along with?

William: Ahaha, your ardent words are loving music to my ears, director.

W: Actually, I am in the midst of unraveling the mystery that is you.

Darius: Oh? You are?

William: Indeed, I have come to learn a variety of things about you in this short time we’ve spent together.

W: Such as how you so heartily eat pie, among other things.

Darius: Ahaha, you aren’t wrong about that.

William: If the little robin hadn’t invited the director on this outing, such would remain a mystery. So thank you, Kate.

Kate: If you would like to give thanks, it is better suited for the ‘coincidence’ of meeting Darius right before we left.

K: Besides, I feel the same. I would like to get to know you more, Darius.

When I turned toward Darius, his entire face was smiling.

Darius: So you would like to get along more with me, miss fairytale keeper. I’m delighted to hear.

D: Let’s play together and get along much, much more, okay? And Sir Rex as well.

William: You can call me William.

Darius: Then you can just call me Darius. And miss fairytale keeper, that goes for you too?

Kate: Huh, is it really alright for me to call you Darius as well?

Darius: Why, of course. There’s no need to get so caught up in formalities if we’re going to get along with each other, right? So call me Darius, okay?

Kate: Okay then, Darius. I’ll do that from now on!

Then, William extended a hand to Darius.

William: We welcome you to England.

Smiling, Darius exchanged a handshake with Will.

Darius: Thank you. I hope next time you’ll find a time to come visit us in Germany.

D: Of course, that goes for both Crown… and the little miss fairytale keeper.

—— Scene change ——

While enjoying the lively festivities in contrast to the everyday, we could hear a notably loud shout of joy.

Darius: Hm? What are they all doing over there?

With our interests piqued, we headed toward the area where people were gathered, and——

Kate: Oh, they’re throwing horse shoes.

Darius: Ohh, it looks so fun. Now I want to try it.

William: Well then, I may participate as well.

Darius: Ah, then how about we have a match?

William: I don’t mind. I do imagine having a reward for the winner would make this match even more interesting as well, but…

Darius: Then how does miss fairytale keeper here sound for a reward?

to be continued…

will vs darius jude vs nica alfons vs ring

first next →

NOTES:

[1] Will says [ひとつ共有しておこう] (hitotsu kyouyū shite okō), which means “sharing one”... thing... in order to like stay as a three man group at the fair. I just assumed he meant a carriage, as the next scene takes place in a carriage, but I may be wrong here.

full masterlist 🌹🪽

[thetarsier]

heyyy!! i hope you’re well!! i was hoping you could write a jealous!aaron x reader where she’s basically getting hit on while she’s at girls night and maybe penelope snaps a picture of her and the guy and sends it to the BAU gc and aaron basically drives over and suprises you because he was jealous

a/n: hi! thank you for the request, lovely, i was so excited to write this one :)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/notes: drinking, asshole-type men (yes that's a warning)

<3: aaron hotchner x fem!reader, established relationship

Girls' night always - always - ended in one of your own getting hit on. Usually, it was JJ, but Emily fielded her fair share of creepy drunk men. Penelope tended to go after men herself, and you were the quiet one that laughed along with the others at the strange men eyeing them up. Rarely were you ever the target of their affections. 

It was something that the other girls constantly tried to change, with JJ repeatedly pointing you out to the men who came over to the table (which almost always ended in you ducking away to the bathroom until the guy got the hint). They didn’t know that you were more than content being an observer of their conversations, happy to celebrate the numbers Emily and Penelope received and laugh over the rejections of the men that came after JJ. 

They didn’t know, because they all still thought that you were single. You’d never told them otherwise, and that was mostly because of who you were currently dating: Aaron Hotchner, your boss. 

It was a connection that blossomed over the many years of you being at the BAU, not the same as some rushed, half-assed attempt to score during a night out. He loved you, and you loved him, and you were trying to take it slow out of the eyes of your coworkers. It’d worked for almost two years now with only a few minor slip-ups that were easy to explain away to the people who’d witnessed them. 

Not Rossi, however. Rossi had you two figured out almost as soon as you started to take things seriously, and now he acted as your protector. He changed subjects, scolded, and made those who questioned you or Aaron seem stupid. He was the perfect person to have as a secret keeper, mostly because he didn’t have it in him to care that much. 

And he’d done a beautiful job, too. It was a running joke on the BAU group chat that Penelope’s mission on your nights out was to find you someone to go home with. This was why, despite your usual invisibility, when a guy approached you at the bar, you were left alone with him, your girlfriends disappearing into the crowd around you. 

“-And so, yeah, I would say I’m self-made. I mean, my dad did lend me most of the money I used to actually start up, and all of my customers came from the family company, too, but I run the place, you know?” The guy interrupted his ramblings to take a sip from his beer, and you continued your nodding. 

You were used to listening to fast ramblings, thanks to Spencer, but usually his monologues were interesting, and you could follow them with relative fascination. This guy was just… awful. At storytelling, and being a good conversationalist in general.

“He hasn’t stopped talking this whole time,” JJ observed from their table, shaking her head, “Can’t imagine he’s particularly decent.”

“She hasn’t walked away, yet, though,” Emily shrugged, “Maybe he’s like Reid?”

“Does he look like Reid?” Penelope pulled her phone out of her bag, “Doesn’t matter. Mission half accomplished - everyone has to see this.”

She snapped a photo of the two of you, him leaning into you, you leaning onto the bar. From an outsider's perspective, with the angle that Penelope had taken the photo, it might have looked like you were enjoying his advances more than you actually were. You felt the vibration in your pocket as Penelope sent your photo to the group chat, but you didn’t look, too focussed on how you were going to get out of the man’s company without causing a scene to care about what your phone was doing.

“Oh, look,” Emily pointed to Penelope’s phone, “Morgan’s already responded-” She switched to a lower tone of voice as she read out the man’s text. “-Doesn’t count, Babygirl. Nobody’s gone home yet.”

“He’s right, you know,” JJ looked back at you and the man, “And I don’t think this is a match made in heaven.”

“I can’t keep losing this bet!” Penelope complained as she shoved her phone back in her bag and sat down, disheartened. 

“Ha!” Emily laughed, looking at her own phone, “Hotch has seen it.”

“Oh, that’s embarrassing,” JJ stifled her own laugh by taking a sip of her drink, “Delete it, Garcia. Her boss has seen that.”

“He’s seen it all - he’s in the group chat,” Penelope defended, “Maybe the embarrassment of her constant failure will lure her into a perfect match.”

“That makes sense,” Emily commented sarcastically, eyes roaming over the crowd. 

You laughed politely at the man’s joke before averting your eyes down to your lemonade. You weren’t supposed to be the designated driver - the four of you were meant to get a cab - but once you’d found out about Penelope’s plan, you’d switched to non-alcoholic drinks. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust yourself, but you studied serial killers and rapists for a living, and you knew that some men liked to take advantage. If you were drunk, you couldn’t defend yourself as well as if you were sober. Usually, it wasn’t an issue - you had your girls - but sometimes the anxiety was too much for you to enjoy a drink, and that anxiety only increased tenfold when you were left alone with a guy.

The man’s droning on was getting so tedious that when you looked over his shoulder and saw Aaron - neat suit and all - you thought you had imagined him. Then, when he started moving closer, you started to worry that he would get the wrong idea. 

But, he knew you, and you could tell by his caution that he was well aware of how you were feeling, tuned into your discomfort. Once you’d confirmed that your boyfriend was, in fact, in the same bar as you, you smiled and communicated with your eyes something that you hoped sounded like: ‘Get the hell over here right now.’

“Excuse me,” Aaron attached himself to your side, and you instantly felt safer, “What are we talking about over here?”

“Hey, back off, man,” The guy stood up straighter, and Aaron slipped an arm around your waist, “I’ve been talking to her all night.”

“Yes, and clearly it was riveting conversation,” Aaron eyed the many empty bottles surrounding the two of you and then your own singular glass of lemonade with disdain, “But it’s time to say goodnight.”

He didn’t even allow the man to say anything else, just used his grip on your waist to spin the two of you around and toward where he knew the girls were sitting. His arm left your waist once the two of you were no longer shielded by other people, and as you approached the tall table, sliding into the spare chair, you scowled at Penelope. 

“Next time you try to set me up against my will, at least make sure he’s not a jerk.” 

“Next time, my love.” She promised, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. 

Aaron stood to your right, in between you and JJ, and you gestured to him as you looked between your three friends, “Look at who had to come and save me,” You feigned annoyance, and acted as though you were secretly telling the girls of your embarrassment, “How did you even know we were here?”

“Oh, my God. He saw the photo.” Penelope gasped.

“The what?”

“Garcia put a photo of you and the guy on the group chat to try and prove that she’d succeeded in her mission,” JJ admitted, amusement swimming in her blue eyes as she looked between you and Aaron. 

“Oh, you’re asking for an HR case,” You pointed a finger at the flamboyant blonde, who smiled sweetly at you, tucking her hands underneath her chin, “You sent a picture of me at a bar to all of my colleagues?”

“If it makes you feel any better, Morgan said it doesn’t count.”

“Oh, great, so you sent my picture to my colleagues, and it didn’t even count.” You were only joking with them, and each of them was well aware of that fact. 

“Still,” Emily turned her attention back to Aaron, “Why are you here?”

You also turned to look back at him as he rubbed the back of his neck. He clearly hadn’t thought much past the initial urge to save you from your misery, and you were sure that not even Rossi could’ve lied your way out of the situation. 

“Um…” He narrowed his eyes, brain working overtime for something believable, “I was here already for, the, uh…” 

His eyes darted down to yours in desperation. You laughed at him, leaning your head back onto his shoulder and reaching your hand down to grab at his. The secrecy was on your account, as most things in your relationship were; not only because he was technically your boss, but also because he was head-over-heels obsessed with you. It was created on your account, and you would be the one to break it. 

“Okay, guys, there’s a reason why I never go home with anyone from the bar…” You grinned, peeking up at Aaron from where the back of your head rested just below his chin before you looked back at the girls. 

Penelope was shocked into silence, her mouth wide open, hands stuck out by her sides, JJ was sporting a happy smile of her own, and Emily had a hand over her mouth, eyes blown with shock. After a few seconds of silence, where Aaron squeezed your hand to soothe both of your nerves, the group sprung into action. 

“Oh, my God!” Emily chuckled, “I knew there was something going on. I knew it!” 

“Oh, this is… This is…” Penelope waved her hands around. 

“Wonderful,” JJ finished, reaching over to touch your other hand that rested on the table, “And congratulations - you had everyone fooled.”

“It’s been hard,” You conceded, “Sometimes during hard cases, it was slightly too hard, but we’ve gotten through it.”

“Oh, you guys,” Penelope tilted her head to the side, “You’re too adorable.”

“And on that note,” You smiled, picking up your purse, “I think we should probably go.”

You said your goodbyes, and Aaron managed to get out his own through his uncharacteristic blushes and stutters, and you made your way out to Aaron’s car, hand in hand. 

“Why did you come?” You asked him out of curiosity once he’d climbed into his side of the car.

“Honest answer?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded, turning your body towards his, “Really, I saw that photo of you with the guy, and I didn’t even think about it. I just got in the car.”

“Oh, you were jealous,” You teased, poking his arm gently, “It’s okay, Hotchner, I’m all yours, anyway.”

“Good,” He leaned over the centre console, fingers gripping your chin and encouraging your face closer to his, “Because I’m all yours.” 

Each of his kisses was a seal to his promise.

It was only in the morning, when you finally checked your phone after a night with Aaron, that you realised another photo had been snapped of you. One of you and Aaron walking out of the bar holding hands. Penelope had sent it to the group chat with the message ‘Mission finally successful.’ 

The group chat had barely shut up since, question after question rolling into your inbox.  

You groaned, falling back into your pillow, where Aaron kissed a path from the tip of your middle finger to your cheek, smiling against your skin. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Dave will stop bothering us about telling the truth now,” He mumbled into your neck, and you sighed, a smile on your face as you played with his hair. 

“Very true, Hotchner. Just remember: it was your jealousy that got us into this mess, so you’re dealing with the questions we’re going to get.”

He laughed into your skin, an agreement.

[katiemccabeswife]

It's Not Your Fault.

Matildas x Fem!Reader

After losing against England in the semis, not only do you feel guilty but people are blaming you.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Vomiting, crying, threats (breifly mentioned), death (very breifly mentioned), self depricating thoughts, sad reader :(

You were one of the youngest players on the team, technically speaking you were the youngest being a few months younger than Mary. Despite your age, and compared to the other girls -your lack of experience, you were still a part of the starting lineup for the semi-finals against England.

You had played in all of the other games, if only for a few minutes at the end of a game, including the game against France. You participated in the penalty shoot-out and managed to get the ball past the keeper which brought you and your team to this point.

You were more nervous than excited but you wouldn’t admit that to any of the girls. The Matilda’s had made history for Australia and women’s soccer and that’s exactly what the girls would tell you for you expressed your worries about the game. They’d tell you that they along with the rest of Australia would have your back and no matter the outcome, everything would be ok. You didn’t want to listen to the girls lie to you, so you said that you were fine and excited.

It didn’t help that some of the girls apart of the Lionesses squad were your teammates from Arsenal. You were still kind of new to the club and were still building relationships with the girls and you didn’t want tension between the group if your team beat theirs or vice versa. Steph and Caitlin would be in the same position as you but they were already well settled into the team and you doubted a loss could ruin the relationships already built.

To sum it up you were shitting bricks and your stomach hurt from stress and worry. You smiled and chatted to the little girl you walked out with, sang the national anthem and smiled for the team picture but once the camera went down and you were in place, ready to start the game, you almost started crying and throwing up.

~

You didn't get any goals. Sam got one, but so did Ella. And Lauren. And so did Alessia.

You did however have almost the perfect shot but your anxiousness washed over you like a hot shower and you passed it off to Mary who missed. You know you should have taken it, everyone does. No one would blame Mary for missing but they would blame you for not taking the shot. Whilst the goal may not have made you win, it could have boosted morale and encouraged one of the others to get another goal that could have won it for Australia.

You passed the ball to Mary but you didn’t run towards an open space to give her options, you stood there with a blank face before bending over and clutching onto your stomach. You heard a few people boo when you chipped the ball and you knew they were booing you. You were booing you as well.

You walked up to Mary and pat her on the back, “I’m so sorry Mary, I should have taken the shot. I’m sorry, I panicked.” Your eyes had filled with tears and your free hand was still clutching your stomach.

“It’s ok, don’t worry about it,” Mary smiled at you in reassurance but you knew she was upset.

“I’m sorry,” You nodded to her before running back to position.

You lost the game for Australia and you felt worse than when you started. You barely held on when the final whistle sounded. You say yourself onto the floor before rolling onto your stomach and crying into your arms, trying to block out the lionesses celebrating. You tried to keep your shoulders still as you sobbed and held your breath when someone came and tapped you on the back or whispered to you that you played well.

You slowed your tears as you did the walk around and again when you and the whole team stood in a heart shape and listened to what Tony had to say, but you didn’t stop them when you walked through the tunnel. You didn’t say ‘Hi’ to any fans nor signed anything, you were sure no one would want to even look at you.

You walked right into the bathrooms and threw up everything you had in your stomach. You were dry-heaving when you felt someone rubbing your back. You leaned your forehead onto your arm and sobbed. The hand stayed there.

You weren’t sure whose hand it was as you stayed in the bathroom cubicle until Sam came and helped you stand before wrapping you into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Sammy. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You repeated over and over as new tears began to fall.

"It’s ok, chick. It’s ok,” She reassured with tears in her own eyes.

“Everyone’s gotta hate me, I lost the game for us. I’m so sorry Sammy,” You sobbed loudly.

She pulled you away for the crook of her neck and held onto the sides of your face, “Chick, this is a team sport. You didn’t lose the game, we lost the game. It’s not your fault, no one hates you,”

“Maybe you guys don’t but everyone else will,”

“Well they can go fuck themselves, I’d like to see them play professional football,” You laughed lightly through sobs, “C’mon let’s get goin',” She kissed you on the forehead and guided you towards the bus.

~

Sam was right, but so were you. The girls didn't hate you or blame you, that you knew of, but the rest of Australia did. You were messaged horrible things, threats, death wishes and they were also commented on all of your socials even going back to your earliest posts.

Hayley caught you scrolling through the gate messages, turned off your comments and blocked everyone that DMed you. You were rooming with her so she heard you crying under your duvet and in the shower and tried to cheer you up.

You were grateful for her efforts but if anything, it made you feel more guilty. Yes, not only were you mourning the loss but also fighting against the immense hate you were getting but Hayley was also mourning the loss and you felt guilty that she was trying to take care of you when she should have been taking care of herself.

You ended up spending a lot of time in bed over the next few days, opting out of team bonding time, either sleeping or crying. When it came to training, as you had the match for 3rd place coming up, you were pushing yourself to a new limit and staying afterwards to continue practising.

After dinner with the girls, Hayley came into your room and sat you up against the headrest before turning the TV on. After flicking through a few channels, a familiar face popped onto the screen.

"The good thing about playing a team sport," Sam's voice filled the room, "Is that it's never one person's fault, or it's never one person that made the team win. And I think that without Y/N the whole team, I mean Tony will probably tell you, that our whole team plan changes. She's such a...an amazing player, and being so young she holds so much potential"

You had tears in your eyes as you continued watching the news. Chloe Logarzo also spoke on the matter which made your heart warm as you had never even spoken to the girl and she was defending your honour. Hayley let the news continue playing as she pulled out her phone and wrapped her arm around you.

She pulled up Instagram and clicked on various stories. All of your fellow Australians had posted pictures of you and them saying how proud they were of you, Ellie's kindly saying, "My superstar, leave her alone <3". Some of the girls from Arsenal even posted similar things that Hayley showed you before going into her camera roll and showing you pictures of fans with signs for you, those who also posted for you and those who had DMed you expressing gratitude for you and congratulating you.

You were crying again, but tears of happiness. Hayley hugged you before bringing you down to the girls who hugged you 'til you were scared their arms would fall off.

[archiveikemen]

"Don't Look At Anyone But Me" Collection Event

Nica Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

On my way back after submitting a report, I heard someone call out to me.

Nica: The young lady over there. 

Standing there was one of the twins from Vogel.

Kate: Can I help you?

Nica: Actually, I got lost. 

Nica: Would you be kind enough to guide me? 

I was puzzled by the sudden request, but I nodded and he narrowed his almond-shaped eyes. 

Nica: Thanks. 

Kate: Don’t mention it, where are you headed? 

Nica: The room we’re staying in. Do you know where it is? 

Kate: Yes, this way! 

I pointed down the corridor and started walking with him following behind me chuckling. 

Nica: Fancy running into you like this, I really am as lucky as ever. 

(Harrison’s warning made me a little wary of Vogel’s members, but Nica is easy to talk to and doesn't seem like a bad person.) 

Even though I knew he was lying about something, it wasn't clear whether it was out of malice. 

(It’s not a good habit to judge someone you just met, right?) 

I was deep in thought while walking, and we soon arrived at Vogel’s room. 

Nica: Thanks for the help, “Spatzi ¹”.

Kate: “Spatzi”?

Nica: It’s German for “Robin”.

Nica: Crown calls you “Robin”, right?

Nica: So “Spatzi” it is.

¹ In the original text, Nica says ロビン which is basically hiragana for literally "Robin" and later explains that he actually said it in German. I previously made a post asking how I should translate this into a German word and the general consensus was "Spatzi" because I was told that's a term of endearment in German, so I decided to use this word. Do feel free to let me know in the notes if there's a better word, as I don't know the German language at all.

He sat down on the sofa and shifted his gaze to the seat across from him. 

Nica: Won’t you have a seat? 

Kate: Huh? 

Nica: It's rare for us to meet like this, so let’s chat a little. I want to know more about your job and all sorts of other things.

While I was feeling tense because it was only the two of us in the room, he propped his chin on his hand.

Nica: Besides…

Nica: I’m interested in you. 

Nica was smiling, but his eyes resembled those of a predator who had caught its prey. 

He looked pleased when I hesitantly sat down, and he called a maid to prepare some tea. 

Nica: Well then, shall we start by reintroducing ourselves?

Kate: Yes, please. 

Nica: I’m Nica Schwartz, a strategist for Vogel, an organisation under direct command of the Emperor of Germany. 

Kate: What does the job of a strategist entail?

Nica: I gather information, act as the brains of the group, and support Dari in various ways.

Nica: The details are confidential. 

Nica: Ah, right. Just call me Nica. No need to be formal with me.

Kate: Understood, Nica.

Nica’s smile widened when I called him by his name and he pointed at me. 

Nica: Now it’s your turn. 

Kate: I’m Kate, a Fairytale Keeper. There were all sorts of reasons that landed me in this job position, but I used to work as a mailwoman.

Nica: Hmm, you must know your way around pretty well, then?

Kate: Yes! I’ve delivered mail all over London, so I know it well enough to show people around. 

Nica: That’s great, I’ll have you show me around next time. 

As I reached for my teacup, Nica’s words interrupted.

Nica: What does the Fairytale Keeper do? 

Kate: I accompany Crown in their activities and record anything that happens.

(There are actually various other things, but…)

I figured it wasn't wise to go into the details, so I decided not to elaborate.

Nica: But you’re only an ordinary person, right? Isn’t it dangerous? 

Kate: Everyone at Crown made a promise to protect me.

Nica: Uh-huh…

Although he looked like he was listening, there was something about his tone that sounded as if he was getting ideas that made me a little uneasy.

But that feeling quickly went away when his expression suddenly brightened.

Nica: So you’re Crown’s super, super, cute little Spatzi. 

Nica: You must be really important to them.

Kate: I- I wouldn't say that…

(While it’s true that they treat me with courtesy…) 

It all started because I witnessed them conquering evil with evil.

(Me being where I am today is a result of my desperation to stay alive.)

Had I not spoken up back then, I might've left this world by now.

Nica: Dari might not like it, but I think it’d be fun to have a Fairytale Keeper in Vogel.

Nica: Ah, but it’d also be no good for Ring.

Kate: No good?

Nica: Ring’s my twin brother, but unlike me, he’s not good with people. 

(It’s true that Ring gave off a cold impression when we first met…)

As I thought back to our first meeting, Nica leaned in and peered into my face.

Nica: Goodness, are you interested in Ring? 

Kate: No, it’s not like that…

Nica: You can’t do that, because— that is mine.

He placed a finger on my lips, narrowing his eyes and flashing me an awfully charming smile. 

Afterwards, we chatted about some trivial everyday topics and the sky turned a crimson hue before we knew it.

(It’s already gotten this late…)

He widened his eyes in an exaggerated manner when he glanced at the clock. 

Nica: Oops, it’s already this late. I suppose it’s about time we end our conversation. 

Kate: You’re right. I enjoyed our conversation.

Nica: I could say the same. Let’s talk again another time.

I thanked him as he stood up to open the door for me, and I was about to leave the room when— 

Kate: eh.

He held up a lock of my hair and placed a kiss on its ends.

Nica: For our next date.

His lips parted with a soft sound. 

Nica: Oh, did you forget how to get home? Or do stay here and have me lock you up?

His provocative tone made it clear that he had been going easy on me. 

(To Nica, that conversation was only a way for him to gauge his circumstances. If he were to get serious—)

— He could easily steal the whole of my heart. 

Kate: Pardon me. 

My cheeks turned hot and I hurried out of the room without caring about who might see me. 

Nica: Bis dann / See you. Spatzi. 

Before he stole my heart. 

…

< Nica’s POV >

While I was laying on the sofa, my younger brother came back looking haggard. 

Nica: What, did you get lost?

Ring: Yeah… the place’s so huge, I couldn't tell where I was.

Ring sat down on a chair with a sigh.

Ring: If only I could easily memorise the layout of buildings like you do, Nica…

I laughed at those words. 

Nica: Sometimes I pretend to get lost on purpose.

[chanshoesunite]

Making yourself cum on Chan's arm

GENRE: smut, snark, idk arm kink?

WORD COUNT: 2223

Author’s Note (Co-curator Tortoise): This image has been living in my head rent free ever since they posted it. It is my lockscreen for heavens sake!! I have been imagining riding his arm EVERY DAY and it's just not healthy at this point. If you are like me, welcome, please leave a message so we can descend into madness together.

WARNINGS: rated M (minors do not engage!), masturbation, petting

„Oh my fucking GOD!“, you exclaim while staring at your phone. Luckily, no one is around, so you do not have to share the cause for your excitement – and despair. Chan has just posted a selfie with Changbin in the group chat “zoo and keeper 💪🐺🐰” between you three and Changbin’s girlfriend.

“Had a good set today~” was the accompanying text.

“Why would he do this to me”, you are absolutely stunned, while also knowing for sure that he has no idea what such a picture would do to you, seeing as you are simply the boys’ flatmate.

You wish you were more than that, so you could write something like Changbin’s girlfriend: “Tell Changbin I need him at my place urgently – it’s for sex reasons.”

You snort and think: “Same, girl. But we can’t all have fit as fuck boyfriends. Some of us have to suffer as singles while living with a perfectly eligible bachelor.”

However, you write: “EEEEWWWW, did NOT need to know this, will purge this from my memory in 3 – 2 – 1 – hey Changbin I have a weird feeling I won’t be seeing you around tonight so don’t forget to put the bins out tomorrow!!”

The ensuing snark in the chat has you grinning and helps you push The Picture out of your mind. It’s late in the afternoon on a Saturday so you decide to live it up and watch a Netflix documentary about some murder cult to distract yourself further. It works, but not for long, because inevitably Chan comes home, all by his lonesome and handsome self.

“Hey, what are we watching?”, he asks, flopping down on the sofa next to you once he has deposited his gym bag in his room. You risk a quick glance at him. Yep, still slightly wet hair from his shower, arms still pumped, veins still popping. God is testing you today.

“People being murdery”, you gesture vaguely at your glass and Chan helpfully reaches over to hand it to you. “Thanks.”

Your fingers brush his wonderfully warm skin and you take a breath and another peek. You notice something on his left hand and – damn it, damn yourself for not resisting – you grasp it lightly to take a closer look. His large hands are calloused, but surprisingly soft. You already knew that and you shamelessly relish the chance of touching him now under the guise of checking out the raw spot on his palm.

“And how did that happen?”, you wonder, “I thought you had callouses for dayyyys”, you stretch the sound while standing up to get some ointment.

“Ah, yeah”, he says shyly, rubbing his head, shouting after you, “you knaur, I guess I didn’t put my straps on properly.”

“Heh, strap-on”, you tease automatically as you walk back, cream in hand. You open the tube and put a pea-sized portion on his reddened skin. “Would’ve thought that makes you raw in other areas.”

“Oh my gosh, YN”, he laughs, letting his head fall back against the couch, then looking up cheekily, “I guess it depends how you use it?”

You huff a laugh, focusing on gently rubbing in the cream – fuck, you love doing this. You try not to make it last too long or be too sensual, but you cannot help but enjoy the texture of his skin under your fingers. You draw little circles on the redness, then use the cream to slightly push into the surrounding muscles of his hand as well.

“I’m not sure you know how to use a strap-on properly then! Best stick to the straps you know – and come find me if your callouses get defeated by your recklessness again.”

You pretend as if you want to get rid of the last bits of cream and travel your fingers up his sleeveless underarm, cruising his prominent veins for a few seconds. Then you quickly pull back and look at the TV screen again. Your fingers are warm from where you touched Chan’s arm, and you have to clench your hand to get rid of the tingly feeling in them. You brush your lips with the same hand that just touched Chan in a nervous tic, which only serves to make you even more nervous when you notice what you are doing and that Chan is still watching you. You pull your hand away from your mouth immediately.

“What?”, you ask, trying to play it cool, because obviously there is nothing to get all bothered by.

“Thanks”, he says simply, with a wide, happy smile. You feel like you could turn into putty when he smiles this way and you yearn to be moulded into something new by him. How dare his mouth and arms work in tandem like that? You try to save yourself by dialling up the drama in your voice:

“Ugh, it’s alright, I guess, all in a day’s work for a saint like me. I do accept alms in the form of chocolate and cash” – and cock, you add in your head, which makes you roll your eyes at yourself and back at the TV but you do catch a glimpse of Chan licking his lips before replying:

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

And you could bicker further, but his low voice took on a weird tone (playful, but sexy? Suggestive? Oh, lord!) and you have literally no spoons left to contain your horniness, so you try to ignore the gorgeous presence next to you and focus on murder.

***

Four hours later you wake up, with a weight on you in unfamiliar places. You have somehow managed to partly drape yourself over Chan –you are spooning into him, holding his left arm hostage like your favourite plushie. His t-shirt is wet where you drooled on him, his head is resting above you. You are surprised to find him asleep, considering his insomniac tendencies.

Still quite dazed, you relish the feeling of his upper arm and side against your body. You lie there, just existing, enjoying this fleeting moment, listening to Chan’s calm breaths, the beating of his heart that you could swear you can feel from where his muscular arm is pressed against you.

When he moves in his sleep, you unwillingly relent your grip. Better to let him turn freely than wake him up. But he doesn’t move away – at least, not the way you expected. He grumbles, flexing his triceps as he slides his arm down. His arm is now lying between you and him, his hand is resting on your thigh, which you have tucked up against you, turning you into a little croissant.

On instinct, you slightly open your legs to let his hand in. You wonder what the hell you are doing. He hooks his hand between your thighs. You wonder what the hell HE is doing. Chan pulls you closer with an ease that both delights and disgusts you in the best possible way. You don’t breathe. He doesn’t let go. His hand is now nicely sandwiched between your legs. His fingers squeeze the meaty part of your thigh, tantalizingly close to your pussy. You lift your head, trying to look in his face. Is he still asleep? Are you his plushie now? Have you died and gone to heaven?

He seems peacefully asleep and you lie back down carefully. You are now much closer to him. You feel hot and a bit shivery. His fingers continue to flex in obviously involuntary movements, his synapses firing in deep sleep. Your eyes drift shut with pleasure.

It feels good. His touch, his proximity, this entire situation. You are taut as a bowstring from excitement. You experimentally touch Chan’s upper arm again, holding on, gently stroking the exposed skin with your thumb. He is so soft and his muscles so thick you could sink your teeth into them.  

With the smallest gasp, you cannot help but roll your hips into his hand, very carefully, to cause that sweet friction you have been denied so far. Lightning strikes through your clit into your stomach.

“Oh shit”, you think, “oh shit, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Because you cannot stop yourself now. Chan’s heady closeness, his smell, his warmth, his fingers and now your own naughty movement have pushed you over an edge and you have to keep rolling, rocking yourself into him. You try to hold back, to be as soft as you can. You make a keening sound, nearly inaudible. You feel like you are being set on fire.

And then Chan turns over and captures you tightly. He rotates the arm between your legs so his hand is splayed on your arse cheek, holding on. His other arm comes down on your other side. He hovers over you, his elbows propping him up while his free hand snakes under your head to grab you in the nape of your neck. You cannot escape from the tight space he has created.

You suck in a shocked breath, your eyes snap open. His face is so close. Before you can move or say anything, try to explain yourself, he grins down at you.

“I knew you liked my arms, YN”, his voice is hoarse and quiet, laced with satisfaction, “I just didn’t know you liked them that much.”

“I’m so sorry”, you say with a panicked look on your face, trying to squirm out of his grasp, “I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to…”

Chan neither lets you finish your sentence nor continue your futile struggle against the virtual wall he has created with his body. He flexes the arm between your legs up against your crotch, squeezing your bum tightly.

“Fffuuuhhck”, you let out a broken moan from the sudden stimulation and your eyes drift shut again. This is what you needed. All the little movements you dared to make before cannot compare in any way to this. Chan’s large hand on your neck squeezes slightly.

“I like it when you swear”, Chan says, looking down at you, relenting the pressure of his arm and then pushing in again, making you gasp, bucking your hips, “and I like it when you use me. So, go on, YN…use me.”

You decide that this is the most realistic sex dream you ever had and to just fucking go with it. You pull Chan’s head down to cover his plump lips with soft kisses. He opens his mouth for you and it feels like he is ready to devour you. When his tongue touches yours for the first time, you feel like you might cum on the spot. His lips and tongue seem to tease you, promising more pleasure.

Your other hand grabs his arm, feeling his magnificent muscles straining to give you as much friction as you need. You start riding his arm slowly but with strength behind every roll of your hips.

“Come on, YN, I can take it.”

It’s dizzying. You pick up your pace, and soon there is no rhythm to your movements anymore, just plain wanton need to feel more. You are moaning into his mouth as he lets his tongue play with yours.

“That’s right, just like that. You have been holding back for so long, being all proper with me, I am so glad you are finally letting loose, you look fucking beautiful, my little princess.”

His low voice, his self-assured tone is driving you closer to your peak, and Chan can tell by your frantic movements and sounds. He kisses your lips, down your jaw. He squeezes your arse and your nape as he growls into your ear: “Keep going, baby girl. Cum on me.”

Yes, this is what you needed.

With a throaty moan you press your wet pussy against his strong underarm and ride out your orgasm, whimpering nonsense. Chan leans his forehead against yours, whispering how sexy you are while you spasm under him.

After what feels like millenia, you go limp. You are breathing hard, still making little noises as you come down from your high.

“Oh, fuck me, oh, that was so good”, you gasp.

Chan lies down next to you and pulls you in tight. He nuzzles your neck and you can feel his grin.

“Yeah? I think so too. Very hot. I especially liked it when you said I am your own personal Adonis.”

You groan and hide your face in your hands.

“I did say that didn’t I?! This is all the fault of. That. Picture.”

You turn around and accentuate your words with pinches to his shoulder and biceps. Chan laughs and catches your hand before it can pinch any further, kissing your fingers.

“You knaur, I never thought this would happen, but I am very happy it did”, he turns a little serious and looks into your eyes intently. “I think you are really cool and hot. And I would like to do this again. Maybe you will find some other parts of me even more enjoyable.”

You cock an eyebrow, making a show of looking him up and down.

“Hm, you think so, do you? Well, you muscular, arrogant, delectable, little shit, I will be the judge of that!”

And with that you attack his lips and push your hand down his pants to reward him for his existence in general and the orgasm he gifted you in particular.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

so i just read a post explaining why the op (and, according to the op, a lot of other people, even tho the post in question only had 32 notes, some of which were from people who disagreed with them) didn't like the cut to the crown keepers in last week's episode. while i'm totally on board with people not jibing with stuff that just doesn't work for them, i wanted offer some reasons why this seemingly hard pivot to people who are not the main characters of the story being told was a good decision to make (note good decision, not inherently the best decision, which i believe no one, including the dm, at a ttrpg table should ever be expected to make).

matt had an extremely powerful, extremely unexpected character decision dropped in his lap in the final moments of the previous episode. we don't know exactly how much time matt has between recordings, maybe a full week, maybe not, but either way, there's a very real chance that matt just did not have enough time to fully prepare a session to deal with fcg's death and what comes next.

sam now has to create a new character that a) is of a level with the rest of the party and b) makes narrative sense for him to be there. that takes time for both him and matt, and they might just need some space to work on that. when laudna died, marisha was willing to sit away from the table for several weeks because she knew that she wanted laudna to be resurrected, but sam may not want the same thing, and that's okay!

matt may want to fold the crown keepers into his main story, some or all of them—particularly dorian, whom both liam and the fans have been asking to return for a while now. dorian is clearly important to orym and the story that liam is trying to tell, and bringing the crown keepers in may be matt's way to do that.

matt—and dms generally—has always had to straddle a very fine line of making sure that his players are the main characters of their story who feel like their actions have real consequences and effects on the world, while also understanding that in reality, it doesn't make sense for half a dozen chucklefucks to have such an outsized effect on major cosmological goings-on like *checks notes* the potential release of a god-eater. this becomes especially true when you're on your third campaign set in the same world, and your players' previous ultra-powerful pcs are still around and definitely more adept and connected than their current pcs are. i, personally, think matt does a great job at walking that line, and one of the things he does that i appreciate is that he doesn't shy away from the fact that a) his players are powerful but not the most powerful and b) his players aren't the only one who care about what's going on in the world and who are taking actions to effect change. the current plotline re: ruidus is absolutely world-shaking and is causing all the divine girlies to cower in their demiplanes, so of course even the evil ones are going to be calling on their champions to help out. it makes more sense for opal to be involved (which, btw, matt has been hinting at for a while now) than not.

matt might need a fucking break! he's been doing this consistently for nine years now, and shit is complicated! handing over the reins to aabria for a week or two or three may be what he needs to not get burnt out.

dnd is an emotional game, and the entire cast might have been rocked hard by fcg's death. some space away for a week or two could help them process and regroup to get back into a story that is otherwise very stressful and action-packed.

or it's none of these! what do i know! i'm a random idiot on the internet! matt doesn't consult me on these matters! (though my dms are open if he wants to chat, i do have ideas)

i think it's tempting to think of the decisions made in and around critical role (or any ttrpg show) like those made for a television series, because the episodes are serialized and we love them so much. but this show is, first and foremost, a group of friends playing a game together, and not a carefully constructed narrative with the primary goal of entertaining an audience. the audience always has been and, frankly, always should be second to the wishes and fun of the people around that table. matt would not have asked aabria to step in and dm a crown keepers side arc if he didn't think it was a good decision for him and his players, and that priority is the correct one. we are being invited in to watch these friends have fun together, and that's a privilege that we're super lucky to have. as long as the cr story isn't doing things that are outright abusive or harmful to the cast or the audience, i don't think we should begrudge them the choices they make in the name of their own game.

again, it's okay if you're not vibing with the crown keepers! i didn't love the aeor arc of c2! not everything is for everyone! but i think accusing matt and the cast of narrative malfeasance is a bit much when, tbqh, they don't answer to us. they answer to each other.

[topaz-mutiny]

On my Critical Role hyperfixation again. Just a little something I noticed during Episode 69 (nice).

Now Ashton's been through a lot in the past few hours learning a metric buttload more in one conversation than they've had in a while, and yeah, it's a little freaky and yeah, deserving to freak out over what it all means about what he is (unknowns are scary man. Being transmogrified to a thought-to-be-dead race of entities on the power level of dieties? extra scary)...

But he's still chatting with the rest of the group early on in the episode, and it isn't clear they're gonna have a panic attack shortly.

Until he makes the mean joke to Orym about the Crown Keepers. Which has some layers to it, too.

They immediately not only backpedal but shortly after a few quips about other stuff Taliesin rolls a die, and I think that roll was to determine if Ash was gonna have a panic attack.

They make one or two more comments before Tal makes the decision to have Ashton slip away from the group, quietly, without announcing he's leaving or going to get his new threads.

I don't think it's the entire reason he's having an attack, but I'm pretty sure hurting Orym's feelings set it off.

They're so not used to caring that it probably was a nasty shock to feel bad for being his usual rude self (in his own words: a fucker) with 6 Charisma. He insults and and makes jokes at the expense of the others all the time, and yet it was the one directed at Orym he seemed to regret.

[gorbalsvampire]

we only come out at night (v:tm city meta, 3/?)

Published World of Darkness material is of... varying usefulness, when you put your city together. Sometimes, your city will have a By Night sourcebook, and a lot of top down design will be done for you, but you'll have to build up from your PCs to do that. Sometimes, your city will have a paragraph or page in something else: you'll know that the Prince of Manchester is named Charles Shawlands, is a seventh generation Ventrue, and rules over a damp and gloomy domain that gets more attention from Changeling writers than Vampire ones.

And that's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it.

worked example: building your Prince

I usually start by rattling through the history of the city at surface level. looking for hooks. In this case: Manchester wasn't really a city that warranted a Prince or a Kindred population until the late eighteenth/early nineteenth century, so it's likely that the first Kindred to have settled there ended up Prince by default.

I wanted to roll with an older Prince than I had last time, due to game circumstances. I'm building Manchester for a one or at most two shot game for my sister-in-law and her husbando, and a chronicle for my D&D group, which includes a complete newcomer who's drifted in off LAbN. As such, I want a classic Prince; Ventrue, conservative, and old/powerful/authoritative enough to be scary, but not older than the Camarilla.

When I was looking around on the ol' Wikipedium, I found that Manchester had been a manorial township and, during the Interregnum, was seat to a major-general (a military governor) who achieved a lot for the Parliamentarian cause... but died young. And his name was Charles. He'll do.

So. Embraced 1656, possibly in London. Probably returned home after the Restoration, and squirrelled himself away as an isolated neonate in a backwater domain that abruptly grew a hundred years later, when our man was catapulted to praxis and did well enough at it.

worked example: choosing your Rack

When I studied in Manchester, on and off for three years, I spent a lot of time on Oxford Road. The top end of that fine, bustling, deathtrap-for-cyclists thoroughfare is home to the Gothic Victorian heartland of the University of Manchester, the sprawling postmodern village of Manchester Metropolitan, and the plate-glass elegance of the Royal Northern College of Music.

Where there are students, there is drinking, and underneath the elevated tracks and platform of Oxford Road station, you will find four boozers: the Thirsty Scholar, the Zombie Shack, the Salisbury and the Grand Central. It's an ideal spot for a thirsty Kindred to hang out at the start of a night.

Dead opposite, however, there's the magnificent Refuge Assurance Building, now home to a gallery, restaurant, florist, hotel (in the clocktower). Brick and terracotta, red as a scar, early Victorian grandeur. Architecture of heft and presence. Grade II listed. Room 261 and a back stairway of the hotel are said to be haunted (child ghosts and a suicidal widow). Screams Ventrue.

So, that's the Rack. I don't know if Shawlands resides up there himself, but his Keeper or Sheriff certainly do: some public official who's as high-and-mighty as the hoi polloi playables are ever likely to meet. Someone who needs to keep an eye on the feeding grounds over the road, and pull the occasional wayward little Kindred up for a chat. Maybe this Ventrue has a feeding restriction to do with scholars; maybe it's all a red herring.

Oxford Road doesn't appear on the map I assembled last week; it sits between the Gay Village and Castlefield, not a formal domain that's been granted to anyone, just there.

If I hadn't known about Manchester from first hand experience, I'd probably have started by looking at listed buildings, concentrations of night life, or specifically looking up the districts. Like, say...

worked example: making a domain

NOMA? Never heard of it. Oh, North Manchester. This is like BoJo or RiRi, isn't it? Something annoying invented by journalists, or something-in-marketings. The former Co-Operative buildings sit at the heart of a massive new development, centred on Angel Square, and its No. 1 building - a giant sliced egg shape in glass and steel.

There's a lot of money being ploughed into what was, when I first lived in Manchester, a run-down area (and I've stayed in some right shiteholes further north still). A few ideas suggest themselves for this area.

Second Inquisition (the sourcebook) pitches Gentrifiers as a hunter archetype, using redevelopments like this to undermine the general state of decay favoured by the Kindred. If my players want to go Anarch, it's tempting to site them on the top side of the city, and have their extant domains be whittled away by these Projects with Money behind them that are outside context problems for the Kindred as a whole.

Alternatively, we could give the Anarchs a leg up for a change; give them Angel Square as their crown jewel, a new domain for the new power, contrasting against the weathered Victorian establishment of the Camarilla in the south. They'd need a bankroll, of course. A Kindred of extraordinary wealth and dynamic vision. What has the Anarch movement recently gained that's lending these qualities as vital infrastructure? The Ministry. And a property developer Setite would be a nice change from the usual smut peddler nightclub owner writhing pliant yearning bodies blah blah blah get an imagination. Hubris, ambition, greed, even an element of the gambler's fallacy in investment. Angel Square - a new Eden, with the Serpents at its heart.

Do that for every district on the Central map, come up with either a single Kindred or a Coterie Type who's doing their thing in that domain, remember to leave space for the players...

... oh yeah, space for the players. Next time, we'll break out my handouts: the player packet and domain guides I like to assemble at the start of a chronicle.

[blog-name-idk]

The Plot Twist | 03

Written by @blog-name-idk and @eserethriddle

Summary: Once upon a time you would have jumped at the chance to live the idol girlfriend life. The cameras, the action, the whirlwind romance. But what was once a dream has now become your worst nightmare, and you fully intend to fight the universe as it repeatedly conspires to set you up with your seven perfectly good soulmates from Bangtan Sonyeondan.

In which we punt Y/N into all the fanfiction tropes and you do your feral best to subvert the love story.

Because nani the fuck, you are The Plot Twist.

Pairing: OT7 X Fem!Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, crack, humor, idol!AU, light angst, slow burn, romantic comedy, just a fun silly old time

Rating: 18+

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Chapter 3: "I'm moving out."

You've never been a hypochondriac. Each time something strange and new occurred over the past week, you simply normalized it and moved on. But seven sevens mysteriously appearing on your skin the morning after your fever spell were admittedly too much, too eerie.

Something was definitely up.

So you went to the all-seer, the earthly keeper of scientific knowledge, the only place that could tell you what the hell was going on with concrete authority: NaverMD.

But then even you and NaverMD were stumped. Feeding your symptoms into the search engine reported a limited consensus of only two diagnoses. Dr. Naver, MD concluded that you either had a soulmate, or some extremely rare, spontaneous condition in which all your toenails will fall off and cause your eventual and sudden death.

Well, actually, no, the first diagnosis was cancer. But it always is, even when you're just constipated from too many snacks and too little fiber, so you discarded that one immediately.

Despite yourself, you found yourself leaning towards the worse of the two. Because somehow even the prospect of a bizarre, yet-unproven disease still seemed more believable than you having a soulmate.

And then you made your first mistake.

Oh, how simple life had been. You were just a wee child, trying to narrow down your suspicions, so young and naive. You never stopped to realize that some things were better left unknown, uncharted.

Like some theological figures before you, you couldn't resist the forbidden fruit of knowledge. Too drawn by the serpentine lure of instant internet search results, you plugged "7 tattoo" into Naver. And now you must live with your decision.

Because smoldering at you from behind your suddenly hateable phone screen are seven men widely considered to be amongst Korea's national treasures.

The thus-far revealed tattoo locations match some of yours, and you try to stave away the sinking feeling that the remaining others are just as accurate. Because that would mean…

…That would mean…

You have a soulmate. Soulmates.

Seven soulmates… who happen to be Bangtan Seonyeondan.

And that’s the moment your mind breaks.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

It's fine. You're fine. You are handling recent revelations with utmost grace and dignity.

Or at least you are sticking your pinky up as you completely obliterate a tub of ice cream in panic. It takes all the poise you can muster. Understandably. And then you almost throw up all that processed dairy back up, your stomach churning too much for you to punish it with cookies and cream like your usual comfort mechanism.

Why is this happening? Why you? You're not some chosen one, and you've never wanted to be the main character in some lame k-drama or fanfiction.

Maybe this is a weird prank your mother concocted to punish you for completely ignoring her texts and forgetting your "obligations" – i.e. popping out grandchildren for her to coo over. And that, to her well-meaning if conservative outlook, requires a well-established partnership and romance at the minimum. Your father must have let slip that you've skipped all of the group dating events she's been spamming your family group-chat with.

Your caring, loving, ruthless mother has picked your worst nightmare and brought it to reality, all to teach you a lesson. To try to ensure that you find love before you reach hagdom at thirty and must be sent to live shrouded in the woods, away from decent, beautiful society. (Her words, despite the fact that she herself is quite a ways past that age. Not that you would ever point that out. You value your life.)

The thought calms you, and you decide to vacuum the feathers from the pillows you destroyed in a fit of rage and madness. You needed to buy new throw pillows, anyway.

The loud drone of the vacuum soothes you further. Of course, having more than one soulmate is possible, but extremely unlikely. Having seven? Who happen to be the some of the most famous people in the world? That is as statistically likely as you winning the lottery seven times in a row. Probably less, actually.

Pfft! Soulmates? Hah! Nice try, eomma.

You have to hand it to her, she really had you going there for a second. You chuckle to yourself as you turn off the vacuum and go to empty it in the trash. Noticing your kitchen trash is full, you tie it off and carry it downstairs to the garbage room.

You feel oddly pensive as you carry the bag down. Perhaps something about the odor of the two-day old kimchi jjigae leftovers emanating from the plastic is addling your brain, because despite your rationalization you now can't stop thinking about the concept of soulmates.

It seems like there's so much that goes into a partnership, even with pre-destined compatibility. Sure, your parents are soulmates and love each other very much, but that doesn't mean their marriage is perfect. The equilibrium, the joy, the easy comfort they find in each other now is the result of many years of growing both together and apart, of being their own individuals who have learned to fit into each other like puzzle pieces.

They are soulmates, but their happiness wasn't fated. Perhaps the universe contrived for them to meet, but their bond was forged by their own hands. They chose each other.

You can't imagine ever giving someone the keys to your heart and trusting them not to disappoint you.

Or trusting yourself not to disappoint them.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

On your way back to your floor, you’re surprised to see your landlord with a guest when you step into the building elevator.

“Oh, great timing! Say hello, this young man moving in at 8004, right next to you,” your landlord says.

Your new neighbor is decked out in a bucket hat and oversized sweater ensemble. You see the moon tattoo peeking out from the back of his sweater and gulp.

That… That can’t be Park Jimin… right?

A split second, and that’s when everything you have been avoiding clicks with the finality of a key turning in a lock.

The call with Mijin, the anomalies you’d experienced, the comical twist of your recent everyday life.

It wasn't a prank.

And despite all the very real and terrifying things your mother is capable of, surely this coincidence is beyond even her ability to machinate. Which can only mean one thing.

You do have soulmates, and the universe has begun plotting.

But you… you refuse to do this. You’re not a little girl that the world can tell to spin in her skirt and flutter her lashes. There are things worth fighting against, and these things are love and the eventual disappointment of finding out that the person you adored is fallible and rife with flaws. All the more so when it's an idol with a perfect shiny image to uphold.

Despite your earlier post-Naver meltdown, you now find yourself strangely calm. This is a do-or-die situation, and you have never been one to go down without a fight. Your will shall not be bent, no matter what anyone says about "fate."

You realize your new neighbor is peering at you curiously, and you staunchly avoid his gaze. Your hair falls in front of your face like you're Sadako from The Ring, because you don't want him to remember any identifying features. Your landlord looks confused at your silence, but says nothing, and an awkward silence envelops the cramped confines of the elevator.

When the elevator finally, finally dings open, you refuse to wait and walk with your companions like a normal person. To both your landlord and your – ugh – soulmate's shock, you power walk out of there like you're an ahjumma heading to the store on discount day. When you finally make it to your once-safe haven, your now forsaken sanctuary, you slam the door behind you.

With your heart thundering in your chest, you look in the mirror and take in frantic breaths.

You decide once and for all.

“Let’s not fall in love,” you tell yourself, the promising ferocity in your eyes a hand-me-down from your mother.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Today is a good day, thinks Kim Jaehyung. The sun is shining, his wife is making his favorite oxtail soup for dinner, and he's finally managed to rent out the last vacant unit in his building. The new tenant is polite and, more importantly, has paid the entire lease up front without even needing any bank loans.

The only blip is his other tenant's odd behavior in the elevator, and the way you practically fled into your apartment. The new renter is a handsome young man – Jaehyung would have thought that a pretty girl about his age would have been happy to show him the ins and outs of the building. Though perhaps you needed to go to the bathroom – he's certainly had those moments.

"She's my neighbor?" the man asks, sounding curious, his gaze following the way you speed walk away from them.

"Yes! Right next door," Jaehyung replies, trying to remember the new tenant's name. He had just looked at the lease agreement, too! "She's normally very accommodating, so I'm sure the two of you will get along well."

As if to mock his statement, your door slams shut behind you. With a shrug, Jaehyung leads the renter – Park! That was it! Tenant Park! – to the door next to yours.

After showing Park-ssi his new apartment and handing him the keys, Jaehyung is in the elevator when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

You I'm moving out

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You're exhausted. You might have told your landlord you were moving, but finding a new place within your budget that doesn't come with charming qualities like decorative mold or live-in, six-legged pets is proving difficult on such short notice.

Why isn't Park Jimin of fucking BTS living in one of the more expensive areas of Seoul, anyway? Why would someone that rich and famous choose your cozy, decent little building? He's gentrifying your already gentrified neighborhood! You're too accustomed to the luxuries of upper-middle class life to be happy about being forced out.

So you've taken to leaving home absurdly early and working until late, in hopes of avoiding any run-ins with your soulmate neighbor.

Despite your best efforts, you have somehow managed to end up alone in the elevator with Jimin. You were already inside, and he was running for the door looking so frazzled you didn't have the heart to press the close button on him. Curse the universe for taking advantage of your kind heart and gentle, amiable nature.

"Thank you," Jimin gasps, clearly out of breath. A bead of sweat trickles down from his temple, which you definitely do not notice. "I forgot my wallet."

He takes off his mask to breathe more easily, and you try to look anywhere but at his plump lips and the way his eyes squish when he smiles at you. The universe may have all manner of nefarious powers at its beck and call, but that smile might be the deadliest weapon of all.

"No problem," you mutter, hoping he never sees you again and yet also wishing you had used more eye cream today. Thankfully, the elevator is fast, but as the door dings open somehow Jimin keeps pace with you.

"We didn't get a chance to formally meet," he says cheerfully, somehow keeping stride with you despite your best efforts to break the world record for fastest casual walk. "I'm Jimin. What's your name?"

The simple, completely normal question makes you panic. You've reached your door and you gaze longingly at the handle, dreaming of the safety that beckons on the other side. So near, but so far.

You unlock it, and realize he's paused next to you, awaiting your response. That violently sweet smile is still on his face, and you find yourself staring dazedly at him for a moment before snapping out of it.

You need to exit this situation. Immediately.

You open the door and look him dead in the eye. "I don't talk to strangers."

Swiftly stepping inside, you close the door firmly behind you and try not to dwell on the fact that he is just as beautiful with his mouth hanging open.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Jimin stares in shock at the closed door in front of him, wondering what on earth he did wrong. He just wants to be on friendly terms with his neighbors – well, especially the pretty one – but you seem to be avoiding him like the plague.

Maybe you're shy? Or slow to trust? Jimin doesn't think he's been doing anything threatening or overly familiar – certainly nothing to warrant the way you almost flee whenever you see him.

Then again, he's not a single (well, not that he knows whether you're single or not, but you seem to live alone, and haven't had any visitors of any gender despite being quite attractive, not that he's spent that much time thinking about whether or not you are single or anything) young woman living alone, so perhaps his judgment is biased.

Maybe he just needs to try harder! Show you that he really does have good intentions. Or would that be creepy?

It's been so long since anyone has treated him like this – just a regular, pesky person – that he can't help but be endeared.

And intrigued.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

These days even the temporary security personnel know your name. They know to expect you putting in overtime, but for today’s working hours you’ve completely outdone yourself.

It's late. Late enough that even for a workaholic Korean, you're the last one out of the office. You begin to make the trek to the train station, grabbing your keys from your oversized purse in case any weirdos try to follow you. Though then again, your bag itself could probably be a decent weapon – your building was updating and refreshing all of the first-aid stations, and so you have a bulky, metal kit weighing you down.

It would be kind of funny, actually, if you were able to injure someone with a first-aid kit. Something, something, irony.

You smile, mildly amused at the thought, but it quickly fades when you see a figure slumped on a bench at the bus stop. It looks to be a man, dressed in torn clothing, and when he shifts you see bruises littering his skin. His hair and eyes are hidden by the brim of a black baseball cap, and his features are otherwise also covered by a black mask, and you wonder if his face is also in bad shape.

You make your way closer, the kit weighing heavily in your purse, because you're an idiot who can't leave well enough alone.

"Do you need help?" you ask carefully, standing just slightly far away in case this is a violent person who's going to lunge at you. The man looks up in surprise, and you feel your lunch try to make a resurgence.

Because staring back at you with a black eye is Min Yoongi of BTS.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Yoongi exhales and slumps forward on the bench outside the photoshoot location, wondering why he's been feeling so off lately. It's not quite the same as the depression slumps he's used to – rather than numbness, it just feels like something is missing.

The only time the feeling recedes is at night, when the ghost of that strange lullaby whispers at the edges of his mind. Yoongi's put the basic melody to paper, but he can't get it quite right. Every time he tries, it's like some note eludes him, flitting out of reach just before he can grasp them.

"Do you need help?"

Yoongi almost jumps before looking up to see a prim, well-dressed woman gazing at him in a mixture of suspicion and concern. Your eyes widen at his face, and he can register the exact moment you realize who he is.

Fuck.

You look horrified, which is not the expression he's used to seeing from fans. You take a step back, half turning as if to run. Also not something that typically happens.

Yoongi should leave, return to the photoshoot, find his manager and tell him he's been spotted in case damage control is needed. Instead he finds himself strangely spellbound, staring as your jaw clenches and your eyes close. You set your shoulders as if steeling yourself for war and turn back to him.

You reach into your purse and he tenses, ready to hide his face for when you inevitably pull out your phone to try to take a picture of him with fake bruises all over his face.

To his utter bemusement, instead of a phone, you pull out a metallic-looking case and toss it at him without warning. Yoongi is too taken aback to do anything other than watch it clatter to the ground.

"What the–" he begins, but you whip back around before he can finish and take off as fast as your heels allow. "...Fuck?"

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

As far as obnoxious things the universe has thrown at you go, this one isn't so bad.

That's what you tell yourself as you stare at the very shiny, very pointy looking knife being brandished in your face in the alley you use as a shortcut home.

At least it's not a soulmate.

"There's no one here to rescue you, little girl," this apparent mugger gloats, and for a moment you actually feel a little flattered. Little girl? Really? At twenty-five? That's downright polite, honestly.

"Huh? Is everything okay back there?" calls a strangely familiar voice, making the both of you freeze. Thanks to your recent frantic googling and research, you recognize it surprisingly quickly, and you gasp and look your assailant dead in the eye.

"Kill me. Right now," you order, your voice leaving no room for argument. The maniacal glint leaves your attacker's gaze and he stares at you in confusion. And perhaps a little fear.

"Uh, what?"

"Fucking do it, bitch," you hiss, casting your gaze frantically behind him to see if the owner of the voice is coming to investigate. You point at your chest, where you assume your heart probably is. If you have one. "Right here."

"What the fuck, no, I just want your money?" he says in bewildered tones, beginning to back away from you. You hear footsteps from behind him, and panic begins to set in.

"DID I FUCKING STUTTER?" you screech, wanting your attacker to just hurry the fuck up already. Seriously if he wasn't prepared to stab someone why the hell is he waving around a knife? What a little bitch. This is the problem with youth these days – all talk and no follow-through.

"You know what, fuck it, just go," the guy finally says, dropping the knife to the floor. "This is too much for me. I should have just gone to trade school like my mom wanted."

"Whatever dude," you say with a shrug, taking the opportunity to gear up and sprint out of the alley. You pass a confused looking Kim Taehyung, and pat yourself on the back for avoiding another contrived situation the universe tried to force onto you. It can take its cosmic intervention theory and shove it up its black hole where the stars don't shine.

Unfortunately you don't realize that to Taehyung, time slows as you run by. The scent of your hair, the silhouette of your lips… he is utterly captivated. He can't help but to peek into the alley to see where you were coming from, and is surprised to see a masked man just standing there, staring blankly at the ground. Metal glints, and he's shocked to realize that it's not the ground that has drawn the man's attention, but a knife.

"Yeah, I'm not cut off for this," he hears the guy mumble as he kneels down to pick up the weapon. Taehyung tenses, unsure of what to do, only for the man to toss it into a dumpster. "I… I should go apologize to mom."

Had this man tried to attack that girl? Taehyung's fist clenches at the thought, an uncharacteristic flare of anger lighting his chest. Then it relaxes as it dawns on him that you must have talked the man down. Not just talk him down, but give up on his supposed path of crime entirely.

So not just beautiful, but intelligent too. Empathetic. You probably love animals, because he can already tell you're perfect.

For days after, he can't get the strange girl out of his head, or the smell of your flowery shampoo out of his nose.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You should have known. You should have fucking known.

"Eomma," you say carefully, lest you invite another scolding from your mother that leaves you equal parts guilty and offended. "This is a very strange place for auntie's birthday."

She purses her lips, managing to look simultaneously irritated with you and pleased with herself, and shoves you forward.

You sigh, resigned, and begin to walk inside the building with slumped shoulders, heels clicking morosely beneath your feet. Until the very pointed throat clearing behind you automatically straightens your spine in a lecture-induced response you have never been able to shake.

"Are you here for the dating event?" chirps the far-too-chipper woman at the front desk, face brightening at the appearance of such a lovely attendee. You force a smile in response, glancing over your shoulder to see that yes, your mother is still watching outside with her arms crossed.

You send her a wave that just makes her tap her foot impatiently. With a sigh, you turn around and nod.

"Yes," you respond with all the joy of a human sacrifice walking to their doom. "I guess I am."

The employee beams at you and pushes forward a form for you to fill out. When you check the box indicating that you indeed have been experiencing soulmate phenomena, because you're an idiot who can't lie even to save yourself, her smile grows even wider.

"It's so great that you're taking initiative," she gushes, oblivious to the way you are now grinding your teeth. "Some people think cosmic intervention will take care of everything, and never end up meeting their soulmate!"

God, goddesses, saints and shamans, whoever the fuck, you think silently. That is literally all I want.

For a moment the image of two spinsters laughing at your pain flashes through your mind, but it's gone before you can really register what happened. What you do notice is that your mother has left.

"Oops, I think I left my ID in my car," you say with a smile suddenly much more genuine than before. "I'll be right back."

The poor, unsuspecting attendant just nods, and you're out the door and around the corner just as a black Palisade rolls up to the building.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The store owner blinks in surprise at your appearance. It's broad daylight, and most of his customers are kids and teenagers. Grown adults don't tend to come here, other than the idol who thinks he's sneaky and the tired salarywoman who –

"Hey, Lee-ssi!" you greet cheerfully, sliding your game card out of your dainty purse. "Is there a new score for me to beat today?"

Lee Seungwon blinks again. You're wearing a sleek maroon dress that ends right above your knees, your hair is coiffed, you smell like a field of flowers instead of burnt coffee, and your face is powdered to perfection.

"[L/N]-ssi?" he asks tentatively. It looks like you. It sounds like you. But he wants to make sure, because you look far too perky for someone dressed like they're supposed to be on a date.

"Yes?" you reply, looking just as confused as he feels. "Is something wrong?"

"Er, no," he replies, accepting the game card from your manicured hand. "The usual? 2,000W?"

You grin and nod, prancing off to the Pacman machine with a bounce to your step.

Seungwon feels a strange sense of foreboding.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Seokjin is the best hyung. Obviously. He's handsome, he's funny, he cooks, he takes care of his brothers, and even drives them to speed-dating events that are objectively a terrible idea.

In fact, he's such a great hyung that instead of returning immediately home, he deserves a little bit of fun. So he heads to a familiar little establishment. Seokjin's managed to re-establish his place as number one in Pacman, but it can't hurt to fill up the leaderboard even more and show that immature punk who's boss.

The fact that he is a grown man in a silent war with a child over an arcade game wooshes gently over his fluffy hair.

Lee-ssi's eyes widen in surprise when Jin walks in, and the idol follows the dart of the elderly man's gaze to see a maroon dress and a very shapely backside. He stifles a sigh when he realizes it is parked right in front of the Pacman machine, and that he likely can't even ask the woman to hurry up lest she recognize him.

Then he realizes that she is inputting a name on the high score screen.

Right above his.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Masterlist | Next

[kurishiri]

Vogel members killing time: outro

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

Darius🪽: Haa〜♡ It really was a fun time doting on Crown a lot.

Ring💍: I’ve always thought this, but I don’t think I really understand your way of ‘doting’ that well.

Nika🍒: Hey, let’s call this a day now. I’m getting hungry.

Darius🪽: ——Before that, though, did you two not notice anything? I have been dropping hints the entire time.

Ring💍: Hints?

Darius🪽: The initials of those who are Cursed by Alice in Wonderland.

Nika🍒: Ah, haha, I see now. So the word pops out in the order they’re targeted.

Ring💍: Am I the only one who doesn’t understand it still?

Darius🪽: Well, if you solve this puzzle, something fun will happen, perhaps.

Darius🪽: My mischief will still prevail from here on.

D🪽: Hey, miss fairytale keeper, you have been listening in to our conversation the entire time, no?

D🪽: You wouldn’t have any plans to tell what we were talking about to Crown, would you?

D🪽: Mhm, that’s right, everything here… shall remain a secret?

It seems Darius has a password for you. If you enter the password one character at a time in LINE, the conversations Vogel has been having will be revealed to Crown, and you can see a conclusion where you can read “Crown’s most amusing payback.”

Duration: 08 . 11 — 09 . 05, 19:00 JST

← back group chat →

[itsmebytch001]

If you are gonna continue ‘my cousin as my keeper’ can you make bloom more of a pick me and ‘the main character’ personality like she is in the show?

I love it when people request stuff, It's makes me so very happy.

My Cousin As My Keeper: Pt 2

In the begging, It was just you two once Aaron got the ball's to reconnect with Jeff.

You were so close in age, only 4 months apart you were raised as siblings. Up until High School you were in education together, all through middle school Mile's was your main guy, while he had other friends who he would sometimes hang out with, most the time it was just you two, sitting in the back field, playing, chatting or gossiping.

Though people knew you as Mile's cousin, and not Y/N, he was always there to back you in any situation.

Girls making fun of you? He's there.

Boys pulling your hair? He's there.

Got in a physical fight? He's pulling you away from the fight before it get's too much.

But as soon as Mile's got into Visions, the rift grew large and fast, while you were happy for Mile's you did feel inadequete to him, he was so smart and so damm good at so many things natrually it made you feel small.

And that's not to say you didn't do okay.

You got into a high grade all girls catholic school, just barely.

And by senior year, you had established a good group of friends, a social life and a repuation for being a party gal, it's not like you were out of control though, you never got black out drunk, you never took any drugs, not even weed, You always looked after your friends at a party and you never went home with a guy.

In fact, you had never even have sex yet, seems catholic school was good for something.

And some point your Dad Aaron got real paranoid about you hooking up with guys behind his back and getting pregnant, but being a single Dad, He asked your Auntie Rio to give you the scare talk...That was very simllair to the school scare talk.

She asked you hushly, while your Dad was in the next room if you were using protection.

Rio: "Bebe, And be honest with me, are you being safe?"

Y/N: "Amti (Arabic for Aunt) I'm not having sex"

She raised an eye brow to you.

Y/N: "Really I'm not" You say truthfully.

Luckily, she belived you.

This did nothing to change to no guys rule, witch you were with you didn't have many male friends.

But One time Musa brought over Riven over with out asking, when your Dad came home from work and saw Riven with his over gelled hair sitting at his dinner table, drinking from his cup, he lost it, throwing both Musa and Riven out.

Aaron: "What have I told you about having guys over"

Y/N: "Dad's it's not lik-"

Aaron: "What have I told you?!"

Y/N: "...Not to have guys over"

Aaron: "And who was that?"

Y/N: "Riven"

Aaron: "Who is?"

Y/N: "Musa's boyfriend?"

Aaron: "Who is?"

Y/N: "...A man"

Aaron: "Excatly, so why was he in my damm house?"

Y/N: "Musa brought him over, I didn't know she was brining him"

Aaron: "And you let him inn?"

Y/N: "What was I supposed to do?"

Aaron:" Send him off?"

Y/N: "I didn't want to be rude"

Aaron: "I don't care"

Y/N huffed looking round the room, confused as what to say.

Aaron: "go to your room"

Y/N: "Are you serious?"

Aaron: "Go to your damm room before I take your phone"

Y/N: "Okay fine jeez"

You say, slipping off into your room, laying down on your bed.

It was times like these you would message your Girl friends:

Clicking off your phone, you lay it down on the table.

You hear a knock at your door, as your Dad meekly opens it.

Aaron: "Listen, I'm sorry I yelled at you, but you can't be having over boys at this house, m'kay?"

Y/N: "Yeah I know but it's not like that"

Aaron: "Yeah yeah Riven is Mua's shitty boyfriend she refuses to leave, I know, just don't have any boys over capish?"

Y/N: "What if I'm gay, then Can't I have girls over?"

Aaron: "Are you gay? It's totally fine if you ar_" He's scrambling.

Y/N: "Dad, chill its fine I understand"

Aaron: "You didn't answer my question"

Y/N: "You will never know..."

Confuzzled, Aaron shuts the door, only to open it right back up again.

Aaron: "Also, i'm going to be gone by morning, and I'll be back round tuesday afternoon"

Y/N: "kmay"

Aaron: "No funny buisnesse while I'm gone, okay?"

Y/N: "Yes"

Aaron: "And Imma have Mile's come over at some point to make sure of it"

Y/N: "Ugh, why?"

Aaron: "Beacuse I said so"

He shuts the door again.

Ugh, he always dose this, sends Miles to be your watchman when he's gone for more than a day.

And you just knew he was going to fuck up your movie trip with the girls.

And so the sun rose, and other day began as you checked you Dad's room to see if he was gone, he was leaving you a note on the fridge saying again 'No Funny Buinesse'

And so you spent the day, roaming round your home, catching up on homework, finishing up a dress and getting ready for the party.

You looked over at yourself in your full body mirror, all dolled up doing yourself a little twirl with your beautiful pink dress, now it wasn't the most convervative dress, it was the kind of dress if youre Dad saw you wear, he'd send you right back into you room to change, but he wasn't hear...

You and the girls had all conjegated at your home, as it was in reasonable walking distance from all their homes, and would take less time for Stella just to collect you all at once then stopping off every 10 minutes.

So as you re applied your last layer of gloss, and re-ajusted your lashes, checking your phone for the time, 16:33, soon Stella would he here to pick you all up.

While the girls sat in the living room, scrolling through their phones, chatting about boyfriends, Musa pops her head though the door,

Musa: "Hey...Youre totally not weird cousin is at the window"

Oh God

Miles has entered the living room observing all you pink friends, taken aback just by how intense the magenta hue is in the room. He also knows' you aren't supposed to be having people over and they know that too, theyre all glaring at him.

He gives them a sheepish smile before heading to your room, passing Musa glaring him down.

Miles: "Hey?"

Y/N: "What are you doing here Miles?"

You ask, looking at him through the mirror.

He looks you up and down, slightly teriffied.

Miles: "What are you wearing?"

Y/N: "A dress?"

Miles: "...M'kay"

You continued adjusting your earings as he layed down on youre bed.

Y/N: "What are you doing on my bed?"

Miles: "What are you doing brining all these girls over, huh?"

...

Y/N: "there not boys"

Miles: "Dosen't matter, you aren't supposed to have people here period"

Y/N: "Oh my god Mile's it is not that deep"

Miles: "Send them home"

Y/N: "What?"

Miles: "Send them home."

Y/N: "Miles its calm, were just going to see Barbie"

Miles: "ah, I should have seen that"

Y/N: "and it's been ages since we all hanged out, PLEASE don't ruin this for me I just wanna hang out with my girls!"

Miles: "...If you let me go with you all?"

Y/N: "what?"

Miles: "if you let me go with ya'll I wont tell anybody you had like 5 people over with Aarons permission"

Y/N: "are you serious?"

Miles: "Yeah"

Y/N: "But are you serious?"

Miles: "Yeah?"

Miles stood up and leant agansit your wardrobe.

Miles: "What's so wrong with me seeing Barbie with ya'll? Seem's a bit steryo typical" He smirked at you.

Y/N: "Oh my God, your'e serious?"

Miles: "yeah, I am"

Y/N: "...fine"

Miles: "Great"

Miles head's for your room door, looks you at and down before closing the door on you.

Miles: "By the way, you look a GTA stripper"

Y/N: "Fuck you Miles"

Miles, now re entering the living room had all The Winx, missing Stella and Bloom were glaring at him.

Miles: "..hey"

They all passivley ignore him, continue scrolling on thier phones, and having small private chats.

Clearly not wanted, he quietly slipped back into your room.

Y/N: "What?"

Miles: "Your Girls keep just starring me down"

Y/N: "Maybe if you didn't show up uninvited to all our hang outs they wouldn't"

Miles: "Well maybe you should invite me?"

Y/N: " We're a girl group kinda thing Miles, also you are my cousin, it's weird to just have a family member looming round house while we all just chat"

Miles: "Well why is it weird?"

Y/N: "Beacuse it just is"

Miles: "but why?"

Y/N: "It just is Miles, and besides you don't even like any of them"

Miles: "That isn't true...I do notice though that you don't have Stella or Bloom over? You drop them?"

Y/N: "No? Bloom's hanging out with Sky this weekend, and Stella is actually all picking us up"

Miles: "Oh"

Y/N: "What's your problem with them anyways?"

Miles: "Nothin, I just Think Stella is a bad influcne, and Bloom's just a bit much"

Y/N: "Bad influence?"

Miles: "yeah, before you two beacome friends you weren't sneaking round, lying to the family or skipping out on us"

Y/N: "Mile's its not like that-"

Miles: "Isn't it? One moment you were coming round for dinner every Friday, and now I only see you like 2 times a month"

Y/N: "Mile's just beacuse I'm having fun dosne't mean I'm abandoning my family"

Miles: "it feel's that way. Every time my Mom ask's me how your'e doing, of youre doing okay I can't give her a honest asnwer, beacuse i don't know beacuse I never see you"

Y/N: "Mile-"

Miles: "And the only time's I see you, when your'e Dad hasn't dragged you over for dinner, is when he sends me to come find you when your'e out with fucking Stella, getting drunk or high, doing reckless shit all the time"

Y/N: "Mile's, Stella is a good friend she takes care of me at these functions"

Miles: "that is not fucking true"

Y/N: "Isn't it?"

Miles: "just last month I found you dancing of a damm rooftop!"

Y/N: "haha" You giggled at the found fresh memory.

Miles: " Don't fucking laugh, you think shit is funny?"

Y/N: "Oh my GOD Mile's you are such a -"

The door swings open, Its Ayesha, the most honest about her dislike Of Miles.

Ayesha: "Heard some yelling, You okay?" She asked you, ignoring Miles.

Y/N: "yeah I'm good"

Ding

You checked your phone too see Stella had messaged you

You turn to Ayesha

Y/N: "Stella's outside"

Ayesha: "Kay, Miles are you serioulsy wearing that?"

Miles: "Yeah, what's wrong with what I'm weaing"

He said, dressed in a huge puffer jacket, trousers and a white jumper.

Ayesha: "Are you serious?"

Miles: "Yeah?"

Ayesha turnded to you.

Ayesha: "Is he serious?"

Y/N: "I think so"

Miles: "What is wrong with what i'm wearing?!"

Ayesha: "Were going to see Barbie"

Miles: "Yeah I know"

Ayesha: "So wear something pink!"

Miles: " Dose It look like I have anything pink to change into?"

Ayesha: "Wear something of Y/N's"

Miles looked between you and Ayesha.

Miles: "Are you serious?"

Y/N: "Yep"

Miles took a step back from you, afraid of misschevoius grin.

Ayesha: "Stella won't even let you in the car if you don't""

Miles looked over at you, pleading.

Miles: "if you put me in a dress, I will never forgive you"

Miles stood on the pavement with you and the girls, wanting nothing more than to shrivel and die where he stood. Wearing a bright pink Barbie t shirt and worse, pink juicy couture leggings, the back concleaded by his jacket.

God please take me now he thought.

As Stella pulled up to the side, Mile's was reminded of how rich she was in her limozine.

she rolled down her window, already glaring at you once she saw Mile's.

She rolled her eyes, and gestured for you all to get in the car, as you all shuffled in, he noticed the pink ring light illumating the inside, with a two bottle's of champaigne in an ice bowl in the center.

As Musa poured everyone a glass, and passed one to you, you saw Miles give you a warning look before you downed it.

Pulling up outside the cinema you all shuffled out as the shoefer took off in the limo, Miles observed all the other people around, clearly going to see Barbie aswell dressed in silly pink outfits.

As they all shuffled in and qued for the tickets, Mile's had never been more self aware of the fact he was now the other in the group. No one was talking to him, despite standing right next to you, you were to deep in conversation with Musa to realise.

Stella walked up to the counter.

Stella: " 7 Tickets please...Samantha" She said looking down at her chest to see her name tag.

Samantha: "for what Movie?"

They all stare at her confused.

Musa: "...Barbie?"

She huffed as she handed you the tickets and you all handed her back the money.

Once all in your seats, you all sat through the half hour of ad's and finally when the room dimmed, and the opening credits began you all sighed with relife.

Almost two hours later the film had ended, and though Miles thought it was good, he didn't understand why you were all crying, he being the only guy, stood in the middle of a huddle of girls softly crying, holding each other trying to sooth one another.

Again, he was reminded that he was the other.

As Stella's shofer appeared again to drop you all home, you expected for Miles to simply get in aswell, but once you were all inside you watched him begin to walk off in the opposite direction. You rolled down the window to check on him.

Y/n: "Ay Mile's, You good?"

Miles: "yeah I'm good"

Y/n: "You gonna get in the car"

Miles: "Nah. I'm going to walk home"

Y/n: "oh...okay"

You watched Mile's walk off into the backround as the car drove off into the opposite direction, slumped over.

And while Mile's walked the streets of New York alone, again he reflected on wether or not you and Mile's were really friends.

Like, you knew you were family, but if you were family why did you treat your friends better than him?

You were there for them, you hanged out with them, you texted them first you actually engaged with them, so why not him? What did they have that he didn't?

What did they have that he didn't.

[teddybearsandspaceships]

Some random notes from yesterday's (25/05/2024) Scar stream. Not even all of the best parts because there were so many, at one point I was just laughing out loud pretty much continuously.

A chatter mentions Scar being the "mob boss." Scar is immediately delighted. In the shopping district he won't be the zoo keeper, he'll be the mob boss with his own outfit etc.

Scar built the nether portal for his train (it looks super cool!) and is now transporting skeletons to the nether so they shoot anyone approaching it because he wants to discourage people from using his nether portal. He put his own heads on the skeletons and calls them "Scar Junior." Only one of them dies.

Doc shows up for distraction and support. He teaches Scar things about redstone, like how you can place a lever on the block next to a rail to activate it. They complain about the new YouTube layout, Doc blames Elon Musk, who according to Scar lives in Doc's head rent-free 28 hours a day.

"just because you look like a taxi driver in Indiana Jones doesn't make you less evil"

Ren shows up too. Doc and Ren start to complain about shipping. Scar tells them a heartwarming story about his local UPS guy.

apparently Doc was a wandering trader in the woods as a kid. He traded home-cooked German food to American soldiers from a nearby base. For ammunition.

Next topic: the "worst" (unrestricted) fireworks. At some point Doc does an exaggerated German accent. Doc also made a joke about Scar being 48, Scar says he prefers the rumors about him being smart and handsome, Doc says that's just the truth.

Scar and Doc getting trolled by horns, including Cub shouting "help" which they both thought was real for a second. Chat suspects "horn man" is Grian, but it's such a huge variety I'm pretty sure it has to be Cub. Finally Cub shows up (briefly)

After all the skeletons were moved Scar wants to add a drowned. He got the go-ahead from Etho to take one from his farm. Scar blocks off Etho's portal and Doc wonders what he's getting dragged into, calls himself an Ethogirl once again

unfortunate realization: a drowned will not attack people with tridents in the nether because there's neither water nor night time. But then chat did experiments and they say it should work? Spoiler: it works very well.

the first trident guy refused to put anything on his head, but the second one put on Scar's hat \o/ so he can even move during the day. It becomes night though, Scar asked people in chat to sleep and Bdubs logs on ^^ a few seconds too late though, Ren slept first.

Oh noo, the trident guy hit a free-ranging iron golem and was killed. Bdubs joins the group just to say it serves them right. Bdubs is telling on them to Etho.

Doc refuses to mess with Etho's landscaping. Bdubs makes a walkway but very carefully. Scar, head in hands, this is what it's like with Etho fangirls… next Minecon, Scar says he'll print Bdubs a shirt with Etho's face on it. Bdubs says Scar is the one obsessed with him, coming over all the time.

Scar talking about a Hermitcraft rule called the "open seas rule", if something is built on the ocean it's free for taking. (Bdubs is skeptical)

Bdubs says dealing with Etho is like dealing with a rabbit. Don't pester it, you just have to leave it and it'll come to you. "How many moms does Etho have on this server." "This is what it's like having a friend." "Oh I wouldn't know" xD "We're friends not moms"

Doc complains about how hungry he is. It's late and he really wants to eat his mini pizza. Scar: why don't you just get a feeding tube, then you don't have to eat.

Bdubs: "I'm just taking notes for Etho later." Scar: "this is just Limited Life the whole time." "Every second is a second closer to Etho logging on and catching you guys"

Scar is now shifting the blame for their misfortunes to Tango because he never offered help or even made jokes in chat. Threatens to throw him out of the LNC, even ^^

"Ooh, you're not trapping Etho's portal!" "No, it's his own" "Oh there's no reason for me to be here then." Bdubs logs out immediately, then…

NOW Etho logs in xD "Etho's here, he's gonna come over here and cause an issue." "What's this about trapping my portal?", and other quotes such as, "I'm watching what you're doing Scar and it's infuriating me." "Put some water down" ("It's the nether!"), telling Bdubs he should have let his iron golem die instead of healing it, and "What you're building a rollercoaster over here, what is this"

"How do we do this, Doc?" "I don't know, give Etho some blocks and let him do it" "No no, I came for the show" Doc is just standing there with two dozen tridents in the ground in front of him xD

"You're like the muppets, those two older ones" - Doc about Ethubs. "We're the comic relief" "Yeah that's it"

Etho is concerned, they're representing Hermitcraft after all, people will think they're incompetent. Etho: "Tango, what do you think?" "Oh god don't tell me Tango's here." Tango is now here :D

Scar: "just to be clear, I am competent, things just didn't go to plan…"

Scar is in protest to both the nether and their nether hub. Etho: "If only we had a couple people around here often referred to as the best builders ever…"

Etho, contemplating the skeletons and trident guy: "So what are you going to do if Cub comes by with his Thorns armor?" Scar hides his head in his hands.

aww, Bdubs and Tango telling Scar LNC will help him with that mountain ^^

Doc finally logs out. Spoiler: he got his mini pizza.