#it would be so interesting that they'd all have some sort of connection to the last generation of chosen one/osirian

[vicontheinternet]

a rewritten idea for KT to have her be a puzzle piece of the chosen one, Osirian triangle. like Eddie was having dreams about her only for her to be Frobisher-Smythe great-granddaughter and not useful. like make her an isirain or key or goddess(?) orsomething

[maxknightley]

on the one hand I do understand where people are coming from when they respond to The White American Desire For Authentic Culture by going "you already have a culture" and pointing out that this desire often has reactionary undertones

that being said, I think it's largely sidestepping the actual issue, which is that American culture fucking blows chunks. American culture is strip malls and military worship and the elevation of mass-market pablum to Bold Artistic Statements.

and subculture is only partially an escape from this, because most subcultures exist within the same constraints of American culture as a whole; they are captured and redefined by capital on such a frequent basis that it often feels impossible to hold onto them in any meaningful way.

moreover, even the parts of American culture that aren't complete garbage are more or less inextricable from the colonial, imperialist, and racially-stratified history of the country. like, I think of that post that went around a while ago talking about "America sucks but has some good parts," and one of the things it listed was national parks, and people (rightfully!) pointed out that the national park system is fundamentally flawed and tends to shit on indigenous nations by design.

the only thing I can think of that's even sort of an exception is pop culture - jazz and rock music, superhero comics, Hollywood. and all of those are, again, captured and defined by capital, and in one way or another have historically been built on screwing over the artist.

so we come to a position, one way or another, where a lot of people say something like: "I'm alienated. I'm surrounded by traditions and institutions I think are shit; I have no way to meaningfully undermine them, and I can't escape them without effectively destroying my life. the culture I was born into is a gravestone on top of another gravestone, lifeless and miserable, and people are constantly shouting that I should be grateful because it's The Greatest Country In The World."

at that point, one seeks an escape, and I think there are three major routes here.

one is to become a weird lib obsessed with the Real Soul Of America. America is really about the good parts, not the bad parts which outnumber them and which they are built upon.

another is to fixate on the Exotic, for lack of a better word. cultures which you do not have an obvious "connection" to, but which fascinate you or appeal to you. obviously this can be pretty fucking fraught, though I would argue that taking an interest in other cultures is a good thing if you aren't shitty about it. (That's its own conversation.)

the third is to fixate on the culture(s) you feel you "ought to have" had, that which was sacrificed on the altar of whiteness by grandparents or great-grandparents who, frankly, had different concerns. to look at a culture that may still be defined in many ways by cruelty and stratification - the way I would argue most human civilization has been - but that seems to have had something else going on, at least. a culture that may not have been recognizable 500 years ago, but at least it existed.

again, none of these impulses is beyond criticism, and I think it would be naive to say that the last one can't have reactionary undertones. I also doubt these impulses are unique to the USA! alienation is extremely common in today's world, and it's not as though the USA is the only settler state in existence.

what I am saying is more that I think the conditions that lead to these fixations are worth paying attention to, and that dismissing them with "you already have a culture" kind of misses the point in favor of getting in a zinger. people wouldn't want a different culture if they were happy with the one they had. like so many other things, people want one that Doesn't Completely Suck. failing that, they'd probably like to not be defined by any culture at all - but that, tragically, is just as impossible.

[velnna]

What are the races in your under garden comic? And how did you come up with them?

Oh oh oh juicy question

We're still exploring what "races" we have, how mixed they can get, etc etc, but I love yapping about this so I'll give a bit of a TL:DR

The Under Garden started off with me and my cowriter having a couple of DnD characters we got very attached to and didn't want to dispose, so the "basis" for their races was attached to DnD somewhat - namely drow and tiefling

HOWEVER when we decided to make it its own world we basically broke off with that and decided to, for starters, have a basic "elf" like race for humanoids. The range is basically any vaguely human creature with pointy ears, and then other physical attributes might determine where they're from but wouldn't exactly count as a whole separate thing.

When we worked out some of the large scale history of the world, we decided as well that the people we first interact with, with skin in shades of purple/blue and hair in shades of silver, would have been dominant at some point, then driven to seclusion in small pockets of the world. Meaning that if someone were to look vaguely.. "drowish" I suppose, they'd be linked to this ancient powerful people and the few places they're known to still exist in. They've got the longest lifespan (~250 years) and are also more intertwined with the high level magic system in this world.

For example:

From here we sort of made room for types of elf we haven't pinned down yet, and will probably parallel anything from bluer "sea" elves to stockier more dwarf-like people, and for all intended purposes even if someone just looks like a human they're a flavour of elf. For example:

And again, the further you go from the silver hair - purpleish skin combo the less connection you have to the OG magic dwellers. There's more nuance to the magic system but that's the gist of it.

ASIDE FROM ELVES HOWEVER we now get into what we decided to do with the "tiefling" side of it. The thought process here was funny because we had a character inspired by a cyborg but no way to have actual cyborg shit justified in this world without an extra layer of complication. So I was like yo what if he's like a bug instead. Exoskeleton vibes n all. So then we decided fuck it out more wack looking people will be mostly inspired by bugs. Within them you DO have a bigger variety of "races", lifespans, physiologies, etc, and there's a lot of room for us to wiggle. They're generally non magical and can cross breed with elves so bugness is also a spectrum.

Some bugs:

Some bug hybrids:

Basically anything with a weird number of limbs, eyes, odd scleras, exoskeletons, wings, etc is some flavour of bug or bug hybrid. They tend to be as far removed from magic as possible.

Obviously there's a bunch of more and lesser known types of bugs and the sheer diversity makes for some interesting worldbuilding questions and dynamics but as a whole it's a work in progress

*takes a bow*

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

your ghoul fics have me in a fuckin chokehold 😭😩 there's nothing i love more in life than a scary sexy man w questionable morals

not to be horny in anon but like... imagine the reader, after having been traveling together for a while, being an insufferable brat for a couple days, just tap dancing on coop's last nerve- but he's not gonna get rid of you, he's seen you in action, despite his lone-ranger status, you're too useful. too skilled. too good at surviving in the wasteland as a vaultie for this not to have been destined. at least that's what he tells himself to avoid facing the fact that, well, poor bastard caught feelings. basically this is a long winded way of me saying boot riding as punishment, cause the man deserves a free polish 😶

Grunt Work

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller Reader

Word Count: 3,920

Warnings: smut (18+), BDSM-style dynamics, boot riding, masturbation (male), begging, mild hair pulling, mild cum play, Cooper is a softie (but a pissed off softie).

Notes: Anon, I wish you would've been here to see me read this request for the first time. I think a small part of my brain exploded. How did this become 4,000 words? It may have turned out softer than you envisioned (not the first time I've given that preface/apology and it certainly won't be the last; The Ghoul is soft deep inside and you cannot tell me otherwise!), and if so, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you for reading!

Every day with this girl was an exercise in self-restraint.

Granted, the type of self-restraint varied greatly from day to day, hour to hour. From the moment he had agreed to do business with the vaultie, she'd been testing his patience, his boundaries, his sense of what was normal.

Generally, he quite liked it. It was actually endlessly refreshing, he found, to spend time with someone who treated him like he was human, who he felt comfortable enough to actually relax a bit around. Someone who still had some sunshine left in them. Slowly, agonizingly so, they'd developed a bit of a rapport, then a genuine trust, which had eventually (and somewhat recently, given the scope of all the months they'd been traveling together) bloomed into more. What you'd call that "more", he wasn't really certain.

It had been the first time he'd allowed himself any sort of dalliance in that area since he'd divorced Barb all those years ago, and it had been both amazing and heartbreaking. Establishing that new attachment with his little vaultie had been the first time in lifetimes that he truly felt connected to his humanity, the way she'd kissed him and clung to him and sighed his name just like one would with any normal man.

He really had forgotten how wonderful it could be to be with someone, to let them get as close as they possibly could, even though he looked the way he did, acted the way he did, and refused to take off anything besides his duster, his gloves, and his hat.

He knew, deep down somewhere, that she wouldn't reject him simply for what his body looked like. Not at this point. Unfortunately, her feelings about his body didn't really change his feelings about his body. Still, getting to feel her and hold her close had been even better than he'd imagined.

But that new moment of connection, that next and first step, also meant he was fully closing the door on his time with Barb; he'd always been faithful to her, even after they'd split, since he'd really had no interest in dating again in the time after the paperwork was finalized. Then the world had ended and wasn't even a thought in his mind for ages. It had taken him months to even see the advances the girl had been making towards him, months more to reciprocate them.

As asinine as it would seem, becoming this close, actually giving himself to someone else physically and emotionally, made his two-centuries old divorce finally feel real. His ex-wife could still well be out there somewhere, as far as he knew, but they'd never be together again, even if by some wild chance they were reunited. Those special feelings he'd once held so deeply for her were no more.

When his companion had finally fallen asleep that night, tucked naked and warm against his side and wrapped in the tail of his duster, he had shed a few tears, something he genuinely didn't believe he was still capable of.

She didn't seem to be sleeping as deeply as she typically did that night, but if she'd overheard his incredibly vulnerable moment, she never let on or brought it up, and he was endlessly grateful for it.

Maybe he was just growing soft with old age.

She was also quite the burgeoning Wastelander, a shockingly good scavenger with a sharp eye for value and utility, small enough to fit in places that he couldn't, her little hands quick at hacking terminals and picking locks. But, despite her small size, she was quite strong, able to handle herself far better in most fights than he'd ever expected a vault-dweller to be capable of. He didn't necessarily need to watch over her every single second, but the urge persisted, nevertheless. Seeing her safe, seeing her happy, those things gave him a strange sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt in ages. It had become second nature to hover around her.

Besides, as of late, keeping an eye on her every second seemed to be his best bet to stay alive. He was genuinely unsure if his girl (Was that what she was?) had been dealing with an especially bad streak of luck over the last week, or what, but she was rapidly grating on his nerves much more usual.

First, she had managed to nose her way into a yao guai den and set the thing off chasing her, resulting in him taking a pretty nasty swipe to the side before they could put it down, several foot-long tears in his already worse-for-wear coat. However, she'd apologized profusely, spent a few hours that night mending and patching up his coat. He found it impossible to stay mad at her through either.

Then, she'd done the exact same thing a few days later, but with a pack of nightstalkers. He'd nearly lost a finger helping her fight them off, the shitty little things infinitely more tough than one might expect. After that, she was officially no longer in charge of picking where they slept, an arrangement he hadn't been fully aware he'd entered into until he'd had to put his foot down about it. Whatever, she'd pouted a bit and insisted it wasn't her fault. He didn't love how little she spoke to him when she was pouting, and her resolve for keeping at such things was irritatingly strong, but what bothered him more was how well it worked.

Eventually, he'd apologized for snapping at her. That night, she chose where they slept. He tried to not think too long on why he'd let her.

He didn't fully understand why he found himself acting this way around her, and only her. All he knew for sure was that he'd be devastated to lose her, as chagrined as the admission made him, and so he did his best to make things pleasant to keep her around.

What she'd pulled today, however, had managed to officially piss him off.

After a long week of iffy sleep and more scrapes with wildlife and fiends than usual, they had both been a tad testy by the time they'd reached the shabby little trading outpost at the edge of the Wastes, one of the last places you could reliably stop for clean water and supplies in this section of the desert going the way they'd come from. It was also a reliable place for him to obtain vials, and had come in handy to a life-saving degree more than once.

The girl had gotten slick-mouthed with the proprietor over the price of some fancy machine parts she'd scrounged up, insisting that they were worth far more than he was offering her. Granted, she was right; the man was attempting to swindle her, to some degree, but frankly, the damn things were cumbersome and heavy and he wouldn't even call the price she could theoretically get for them worth hauling them around in the heat. If it were him, he wouldn't have dragged them all this way, and would certainly ditch them now.

For reasons he couldn't fathom, though, her solution to the man offhandedly threatening to just keep the damn things had been to pull her pistol on him, which, of course, had set off an entire chain of unnecessary events. The owner's gun had come out, as well, then Cooper's, despite him actually trying to talk the situation down for once.

The man wouldn't relent, however, and he had been forced to shoot his hand off to end the conflict without her blood being spilled. Well, maybe not completely forced, but it certainly felt that way at the time. That particular trading outpost had been incredibly useful to him for well over a decade, and now he wouldn't be able to return.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have shot them.

Not probably. He would have shot them.

But instead, here he was, tucked into a creaky old UV-eaten lawn chair, smoking and trying to disguise how unsettlingly happy he was to finally have some safe alone time with her beneath his annoyance at being inconvenienced. If there was one thing he hated, it was being inconvenienced. But, if there was one thing he greatly enjoyed, it was her company, so he was at a bit of an impasse.

It was moments like this where he wondered if he'd finally poisoned his brain with too much Jet or any other number of substances, the haze that consumed him every moment around her thick. Even now, when he was angrier with her than he'd ever been at any point in their travels, he couldn't focus on his legitimate grievance because he wanted her so badly. It was the single most irksome thing he'd ever experienced.

She was quickly sniffing out this weakness of his, perceptive little minx that she was. Increasingly, she was quick to soothe his bad moods with little touches and kisses, and it made him melt embarrassingly every single time. He'd been livid and silent as they'd trudged away from the building, both of them covered in rapidly-cooling blood spatter, when she'd brushed her hand along his back softly; a sort of apology, he supposed. Since then, his main source of anger had been himself and his lack of resolve when it came to this particular woman.

The old cowboy was determined to teach her a lesson today, though.

He'd spent the better part of an hour checking their perimeter once they'd come across this place, and the little sniper's nest where they were holed up had a great view of the area. It certainly wasn't much, little more than a rusty metal panel jammed between some rocks, a mattress, a chair, and a radio. But for the first time in a few weeks, things were safe, quiet, and calm. They had plenty of rations between the two of them, and water wasn't as much of a concern as it had been on their way in. She was so comfortable that she'd actually shed her boots and socks, her dainty little feet curled up underneath her as she nibbled away at something under the ramshackle "roof".

Now was the time. He just had to wait for the opportunity.

"You've been quiet since we left the traders." she said after a while of companionable, though mildly terse, silence. It wasn't a question, but at the same time very much was, and the casual, roundabout way she was addressing what was her own actions made him scowl slightly.

"You've been a pain in my ass these last few days, sugar." he said flatly, glaring at her as best as he could from under the brim of his hat. "Should be happy I've just been quiet now."

She actually rolled her eyes slightly, but clearly didn't think he'd seen it, keeping silent as she continued to eat. Increasingly bold for someone within grabbing distance. Cooper let a few seconds pass, studying her.

"Y'know, when I was in the marines, if you were a little shitheel, they'd make you do grunt work." he said eventually, voice matter-of-fact.

She pursed her lips at that, finishing up the can of beans she'd been steadily tucking into.

"I don't think I know what that is." she replied almost absentmindedly.

"It's the shit work no one ever wanted to do, so being assigned to it was intended as a punishment. Scrubbin' floors, toilets. Peelin' potatoes. Polishin' boots."

She chuckled at his anecdote as if it were meant to be entertaining, but the way he let her laugh hang in the silence, staring her down as she sat there curled up beside him, said otherwise. After a moment, she sort of narrowed her eyes at him, her tone low, almost conspiratory, when she asked:

"What're you playing at, cowboy?"

"I'm sayin' you're in trouble, cowgirl." he replied, reaching out to hold her chin solidly in his grip and watching her pout. "I'm sayin' that I think a little grunt work would do you and that attitude of yours some good, and I'm sayin' that I think you should polish my boots."

"Polish your boots?" she repeated, wrapping her tongue around each of the words like they were foreign to her.

"Pretty sure there ain't a functioning toilet within a hundred miles of where we're sitting, and I ain't got any potatoes. So…"

"You can't be serious." she said, her eyes full of curious suspicion as she looked him up and down.

Releasing her chin, the old ghoul set to removing his gloves, tugging his second hand free and using his naked pointer finger to draw a little 'x' over his heart.

"Serious as the grave, darlin'."

There were a few pregnant seconds of them staring one another down, waiting for the other to bend, to flinch. She even lifted her chin towards him, just enough for him to pick up on, an unspoken challenge. God, she was so like him.

"Now…be good and take your clothes off." he smirked, brows raising when she made to argue in response. Her lips worked their way between her teeth as she hesitated before slowly dropping all her armor from her arms and torso, then drawing the dirty shirt underneath over her head.

"Is that better, Coop?" she asked, letting her hair down out of the knot she'd tied it up into on top of her head, the strands framing her face as she worked him over again with those eyes of hers. Pulling herself up into a standing position, he did his best to ignore the way her bare breasts moved and dipped with gravity.

"Mmm. I think it would be more fittin' if you called me 'sir', frankly."

"You cannot be serious!" she insisted again, indignant as she slid the zipper on her trousers down, her tone making him chuckle despite himself. She just didn't know when to quit, and it was fucking adorable.

"Am I ever unserious?" he asked, ignoring the look she shot him back in favor of watching her slowly work the worn pants down over the curve of her ass, dropping them into a pile around her feet and leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born. He felt his already-stiffening cock twitch slightly, resisting the urge to rub himself through the faded pinstripes of his pants. This was supposed to be a punishment for her, and doing that would give her too much opportunity to distract him.

"Aww, c'mon, boss." she sighed, pressing at a hidden button of his, cocking her head and sending that silky curtain around her face glinting in the light.

"I mean it, missy. You fucked up pretty bad today, and you need to be punished for it. And what did I just say?" he responded, fighting hard to keep his voice even and body still.

"Well…what else would you have in mind as a punishment, sir?" she purred as she stepped back towards him, batting those long, dark lashes his way. He managed to keep his eyes on hers and off of her body, a task that felt herculean as the ache in his gut grew more intense. For a split second, he wanted to give in to her, to pin her to the ground and fuck the attitude out of her like he'd wanted to for days. But there would be plenty of time for that later.

"I promise you that if you knew your other options, darlin', you'd choose this." he replied, finishing his smoke and tossing the butt away. Digging his inhaler out for a quick puff, he finally removed his hat and set it aside, reclining just enough to allow his feet to stick out a few inches in front of him.

She huffed at her little ploy failing to work, crossing her arms and cocking her hip slightly. Cooper's teeth dug into the inside of his cheek to keep back a grin.

"Well, are you gonna take them off?" she demanded.

He couldn't hold back his smirk at that, his head cocking as he continued to stare her down.

"Just how long are you gonna keep playin' dumb? You know it's gonna get cold when it gets dark."

Studying her face, he could see the faint lines of confusion there, and wondered if maybe she really didn't know what he meant.

"There's a reason I wanted you naked, honey, and it ain't just the view."

Though it certainly didn't hurt.

It took a few long, long seconds of her looking him up and down, wondering, but eventually the glow of realization lit up her face, followed by more brow furrowed confusion.

"How would that even work?" she asked, though her tone was more curious than argumentative.

"I suppose you'll figure it out, huh? Askin' an awful lot of questions for someone who's about to be freezin' their twat off in about half an hour." he said, watching with apparent glee as she fidgeted in place, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Still attempting to make a stand, she didn't move, chewing away at that bottom lip as she hesitated there. He could smell that she was already turned on.

"Go on. Get to work." he ordered softly, exhaling smoke through his nose, staring into her eyes.

After a heartbeat, she seemed to accept her fate and slowly lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. That, too, made his cock jump. Her cheeks had a visible rosy hue as she clearly struggled to arch herself at the right angle to make proper contact; after a few long seconds of her huffy sighs, he took mercy on her and tilted the toe of his boot more skyward, allowing her to begin to rub herself back and forth across the dusty leather in earnest.

He watched as her face slowly morphed from mildly confused concentration to blossoming arousal, the tint in her cheeks growing until it consumed her entire face.

"How does it feel?" he asked quietly, taking another long drag off of his smoke.

"It feels good." she huffed, a light sheen of sweat glinting on her soft skin.

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair at that, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her eyes flying open to gaze up at him, wide and wet.

"Feels good what?" he demanded. "Given you an awful lot of chances on that, kid. Y'know, insubordination usually calls for more severe punishment."

"It feels good, sir." she replied, her hips stuttering slightly as she struggled to move them with her head fixed in place, her eyes falling shut again. He found it a little surprising that the mild pain hadn't stopped her or made her complain more. If anything, she'd seemed to like it. He took note of that for later.

"Tsk. Well, it's supposed to be a punishment, but I guess I can't help it if a little freak like you gets off on polishin' my boots. Guess I did know a guy in the service who really liked bein' made to scrub the floor, but, between you and me, I think he might've had a little thing for bein' pushed around and told what to do." Cooper's voice fell to a secretive murmur as he spoke to her, watching her eyes dart away as he teased her.

However, as he watched her slide herself back and forth across his foot, he found it more and more difficult to resist the urge to touch himself. When her eyes didn't open for several minutes, focused entirely on the sensation, it would seem, he took the opportunity to palm his cock, his hips eventually beginning to rock against his hand. That movement caught her attention, her gaze burning into him as she watched; this was a button of hers for whatever reason. Feeling emboldened and somewhat sure that she was too distracted to cause trouble, he quickly undid his belt and fly and tugged his erection free, a shiver running down his spine as he gave himself a few experimental pumps in the cooling air.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated how coherent she still was, her head remaining low, but her right hand creeping up his leg towards his hand. He jerked his chin towards her, sending her jumping back a bit. However, she didn't look fearful, more chastened.

"Don't. You. Fuckin'. Dare." he growled, his hand not stilling for a moment. "If you touch me, I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank your little ass until you can't sit right for a week."

His threats only seemed to make her hotter, a throaty moan leaving her as she began to hump his boot with increased speed, all attempts at preserving any semblance of her dignity abandoned in the pursuit of her orgasm. The grip he was maintaining on himself tightened, and a growl ripped out of his chest in response as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her. If he could still sweat, he'd be pouring it just like her.

Cooper's leg jerked involuntarily as a particularly strong wave of pleasure shot up his spine, digging the toe of his boot harder into her weeping little slit, and she keened in response, her body beginning to twitch all over like it did when she was nearing her end.

"You close, honey? You wanna cum?" he asked feverishly, rapidly sprinting towards his own finish line.

She nodded rapidly, her breasts heaving with her strained breath as her nails dug into his thigh.

"Please, please, please..." she breathed over and over.

"Look at you, just cleaned the thing and you're about to make a mess all over it because you're such a needy little slut." he chastised, breaking down into a harsh whisper as he seized her by her hair once more, his cig hanging loosely from his lips. "Go on, baby. Cum all over my boot."

The labored whine she let out as she lost herself all over him, and the blissful way her face contorted as she cried out, was more than enough to finish him off, his release spurting all over his hand and stomach. They both growled and groaned their way through their shared release, her collapsing against the inside of his leg as she panted heavily. Working to control his own breathing, he let his head fall completely back with a blunted "thud" against the frame of the chair, releasing his grip on her head.

After a few quiet moments, they both rather sheepishly peeked at one another. He held his spend-covered hand up in front of her face, the mess catching the fading light as he reached out towards her.

"You're gonna have to clean that up, too." he said softly, rubbing some of the slickness across her lips, barely holding back a groan when the little pink tip of her tongue darted out to lap at his fingers as they passed by.

"Mmm. Yes, sir." she responded, gently laying her temple against the side of his knee, those big, round eyes slowly slipping shut. Cooper reached out and laid his palm against her head, petting her now-rumpled hair with more affection than he'd like to admit, admiring her in the golden-red hue of the evening sun.

"Don't get too comfy there, sweetheart." he said after a few quiet moments, his cock beginning to stir again. "Don't forget, I've got another boot."

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 10

Masterpost

The thing is, Tim has a few more resources than the average person. And maybe it's cheating, but the names in the first video aren't exactly the most unique, and when he and Bernard google them, they get a lot of results, and nothing very obvious. Which means that Tim spends most of the night laying next to Bernard, staring at the ceiling as his brain spins in some extremely fruitless circles. And by morning he is unquestionably exhausted and annoyed. Bernard is as kind and empathetic as he ever is, and the moment he realizes Tim's insomnia had gotten the better of him, he goes about making Tim an absolutely delicious breakfast. And then Tim has to go to work, and deal with idiot business people who think nothing of tactics that would harm thousands of their own employees.

Being an absolute pinnacle of restraint, Tim does not throw a chair at the department head who tries to subtly suggest cutting down his department's bonuses to increase his own, and he goes through dozens of emails, but by the time it's late enough to get away with leaving for the day, Tim is feeling exceptionally irritated. So, maybe it's cheating, but it's not like anyone has to know. After all, he can always work backwards once he has the connection, and present Bernard with a more appropriate methodology. So around mid-afternoon, he heads to the batcave and plugs some parameters in, so it can cross-reference the results for him.

What he gets is interesting, to say the least. The program flags a handful of different individuals and documents, but among them is an article from the Gotham Gazette about a motorcycle accident. Listed as victims are two teens, named Katherine Taylor and Jonathan Woods, both names that were among the details of the first video. It seems too odd to be a coincidence, though, and when Tim searches for the individuals in question, he manages to find their obituaries, and the photos reveal a near definite match.

It leaves something of a sour taste in Tim's mouth when he remembers this is supposed to be a fiction thing. Unless somebody involved in this knows how to hack shit real well, then they're using real people who cannot possibly have consented to becoming part of some game. There's also implications in the fact that the date listed for the photos is well after their deaths. He knows enough to know ghost stories aren't exactly uncommon in these sorts of things, but trying to imply that real people have become ghosts? Especially when ghosts are usually antagonists in scary stories — Tim stolidly reminds himself not to jump to conclusions, and simply notes the connections and moves on.

The bat computer, unfortunately, doesn't pull up info about the three other names, and it pulls up way too many results when it comes to the listed locations. It takes almost an hour of fiddling with search parameters, before he finally managed to land on something that might be a match. It's difficult to tell, because the photo they'd used is definitely old, but it looks like the Carle Park in question is in Illinois, which ostensibly gives them a location, corroborated by the fact that a highway 49 runs not too terribly far from it.

It takes a while of debate, but eventually he decides to go ahead and run the other photos of people through facial recognition, in case the photos match anything. He feels kind of slimy about it, but these things are public record, and even if this research isn't supposed to be for anything important, and even if the circumstances aren't exactly ideal, he and Bernard don't exactly have to post any of this info.

He's not sure whether to be surprised when he gets a match on a third individual. This time, the person in question is actually misidentified as Amber McCall, when the girl's actual name appears to be Ember McLain. What's more, the photo they'd been provided with is one of her as a child, despite the fact that she apparently didn't die until 21.

It seems an odd combination of details to get wrong, especially compounded by the fact that she was apparently on her way to fame, with a burgeoning music career. Her death is similarly tragic, reported as an accidental house fire, though Tim finds a contemporary article speculating otherwise. The writing reads as nothing but gossip, though, so he promptly closes it, and at the sound of footsteps, he closes out his search and takes his notebook upstairs, before any of his wayward siblings can start asking him questions.

[yanderes-galore]

yandere pets🐱🐶? Reader either accidentally eats something weird or comes into contact with alien pollen that makes the Xenomorphs reject their current Queen n make them view reader as their new “leader”. They become overprotective domestic pets. Platonic ofc

I love the idea but I'll do a version closer to canon if that's fine ^^

Yandere! Xenomorphs Seeing You As Queen/Leader

Pairing: Platonic/Pet-Like

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female/Gender-Neutral Darling, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Territorial/Possessive behavior, Forced companionship.

This idea reminds me of something similar to the fourth Alien movie.

In this case you'd be similar to Ripley 8, some sort of experiment involving a human harboring Xenomorph DNA.

This would naturally make you connected to the Xenomorphs.

However, the non-canon Alien pollen also seems like an interesting idea.

Maybe the "spores" seep into your skin and make you smell like a Xenomorph, somehow altering your DNA in the process?

These are the ideas I came up with that could make this concept work.

We haven't really seen Xenomorphs reject a Queen, however I could have missed it in lore.

As a result I would assume they'd react similarly to insects: they'd most likely kill the old Queen if they are somehow attached to you.

It's that or the Queen has already died at some point and the Hive is looking for a new one.

Which makes them choose you due to your smell.

I'd assume this concept would go like this, you have a whole Hive under your control.

It doesn't matter if you like it or not, the Xenomorphs see you as their new "Queen" regardless of gender.

While they would prefer you stay in their Hive, Drones would try to follow you just about anywhere.

Honestly towards you they may just act like pets.

You can't lay eggs or reproduce so the colony is doomed to be small.

That is unless a small group of Drones break off with you while a new Queen actually settles in the Hive.

If we go with that idea then I suspect you'd have about six-ish Drones following you at all times.

Obviously if they all saw you as leader than they'd fiercely protect you.

Even if this is a small group that separates from the rest of the Hive, they'd probably try to make your home a new Hive.

Wherever you live this new group will infest, they think they're helping.

After all they only know Hives as homes, they have no idea you live differently.

Expect the waxy and wet coating of Xenomorph Hives to quickly coat a sections of your home.

I'd assume they'd pick one of three places; your basement (if you have one), attic (if you have one), or your bedroom.

They'll make a section of your living space theirs then try to drag you into it as their leader/Queen.

You'll notice they smell rather acidic/earthy... yet they don't have a strong smell.

Even if you already smell like a Xenomorph I can see them trying to rub against you or cuddle you to make the pheromone smell stronger.

Xenomorphs would most likely be territorial of their new leader and home.

You can't really prevent it, either.

Better hope no friends come over as they'll be quickly attacked by one or two of the large Drones.

You may not even get to experience human contact again.

Your new Xenomorph followers would probably find a new place to make a nest then just drag you there.

Humans are a great source of hosts, yet they see them as too dangerous for you to be around.

They could harm the colony.

They could harm their Queen.

As a result, your overprotective Xenomorph pets would most likely become territorial to the point your life is now in isolation.

Sadly, you don't have a choice in the matter...

Until you eventually pass... you'll be their Queen/leader... away from humanity until something changes (if it even does).

[foxglovepng]

Hello! Can I request for Soulmate AU of your choice for Leona, Idia, Floyd and Malleus? Thank you in advance!

Characters: Leona, Idia, Floyd, Malleus

CW: Leona & Idia being haters, Floyd is Floyd. Maybe OOC, Not proofread

A/N: Hello Anon! I am not too familiar with writing for soulmate AU so this will definitely be interesting. I decided to go with the red string one because It's the only one I sort of know.

A/N: I am so sorry if these are short I really do not write for soulmates at all.

If you liked Reblogs and Likes are appreciated <3

🌼🥀

Leona

Soulmate?? PSHHHHH Leona doesn't believe in soulmates. Or so he thought.

His brother met his soulmate and well we all know how that went. Leona had given up on soulmates in general since he could never find the said person.

Going to NRC he didn't think he'd meet them.

When he came across Yuu he saw their strings joined during the spelldrive incident. But that wasn't the topic of conversation that was for another day.

When they came across him again Yuu realized they were soulmates and their eyes gleamed. Leona was like Ugh an was constantly trying to fight it, he didn't really care, but Yuu of course kept pushing. He snapped at them one day and was like

"You're annoying I don't care that you're my soulmate." and then walked away.

Eventually Leona secretly began to miss Yuu's prescense but would never admit it out loud. One day he got fed up and went to go look for them. Some students were ganging up on them and he well scared them off.

"Be careful herbivore I'm not cleaning up your messes again." Liar he would.

At first he hated the soulmate thing, but he's not saying he likes it just doesn't mind it.

Floyd

He is a special case. He doesn't care enough, but he also does care. He's neutral to the soulmate thing, but if he ever did find his soulmate he'd be super stoked to meet them.

When Yuu came to Mostro Lounge to make the deal he found out Yuu was his soulmate then. However he was currently busy so he couldn't do anything about it although he's now super interested in Yuu.

After the whole ordeal he attaches himself to Yuu to learn everything about them, and just to get to hang out with them.

(Yuu literally has to force him to practice because he won't leave their side)

Eventually when they do start having a relationship he's even more loving and affectionate knowing he can kiss and cuddle his little shrimp as much as he wants.

Idia

He can barely handle a social interaction what make you think he will find his soulmate.

He's literally a shut in who is mainly on his computer either programming, doing school work, or gaming he'd not one for social situations.

The only way he found out Yuu was his soulmate was because he coincidentally went outside for club and he ran into Yuu and learned Yuu was his soulmate. Yuu figured it out too and he pulled out every excuse in the book to go back to the dorm.

Bro is not ready for the level 100 boss

Ever since then, he has tried to avoid Yuu. Emphasis on try as Yuu would probably be pushing as he is their soulmate.

Ortho at some point tells him he can't keep pushing away. He won't give up, but Ortho literally invites Yuu over forcing them to hang out.

It will take a while and some work before Idia can work up to the idea of a partner and a relationship, but he eventually does get there.

The second Yuu starts talking about marriage or a baby Idia would ramble about how he's not ready and tell Yuu to slow down.

Malleus

Poor boy has been lonely forever a soulmate would make him feel less lonely and he'd be happy that he has someone to be around. He's been excited to meet said soul mate. He'd been dreaming what they'd look like what kind of person they are what gender they are (Not that gender matters to him)

When he was outside ramshackle and Yuu came out he realized their strings connected. He was happy he found his soulmate and would be even happier if they felt the same way about him.

When he came back from Diasmonia that night he told Lilia he found his soulmate. Lilia was happy so was Silver. Sebek was like WHAT? but he will get over it. (Spoiler he ends up liking and tolerating Malleus's s/o)

Peep Malleus planning the wedding with Lilia as the officiant.

[court-jobi]

AAAAH i love your bakugo x biker!reader series every time you post a new story I get so excited their relationship is so cute and your writing is so compelling I just have to read them over and over again

Awwww anon!!! Thank you so much!!! That is high praise, and I appreciate you sharing your love for them so much~ Methinks I need to start a little timeline for that sweet n' spicy reader... and perhaps give you a lil sneak peak into an idea I've had recently where biker!reader is a bit cheeky... all in good fun, right?

To catch up on this series and my other MHA fics, check it out here!

Bakugou x biker!reader WIP incoming...

Picturing UA holding a Work Study Expo -a new initiative by Midoriya to help connect would-be heroes with Pros they may not know yet; namely for the hero courses, but also with added attention for the support students!

Enter our darling biker!reader. Reader is sandwiched by Kirishima and Bakugou to come attend-- the boys both RSVP with a unanimous 'yes' seeing a UA reunion tour in the making, with Bakugou particularly excited to take you there to see his former school since you'd received your secondary education elsewhere.

You're happy for it too; gives you just a little more insight into the place that had a large part in building him up to the hero status he is today...

...until the three of you are checking out the figures across the reception space-- and you freeze when you spot someone. Kirishima clocks it as a starstruck response and despite your harshly whispered word of denial, he makes off in golden retriever fashion to go get them.

Bakugou would be... a bit intrigued to see this reaction from you. Not that you weren't allowed your idols (even though he feels no one holds a candle to Allmight by default), but he was curious as to why you would look so... antsy. It wasn't quite a 'Deku' level of floundering - but that purposeful squaring up of your shoulders and avoidance of his eye contact altogether gave him cocky cause to tease you further.

"What, scared to meet your heroes? Figured you'd be plenty used to that by now."

"Shush,heisnotmyhero."

"Oi--" Bakugou cocks his head to the side, effectively forcing you to look at him over your predicted line of sight. "What's your issue then, angel eyes?"

With an unavoidable storytime bubbling in your gut, you run the risk to see if you can sum everything up for him by the time Kirishima comes back-- or at the very least, figure out the nearest exit to gracefully disappear to for the next fifteen minutes or so....

You pull him aside lightly by the wrist, closer to one of the tables of handouts for the event.

"Okay... You have to remember one thing, promise?"

"Yeah?" Bakugou chimes back, entertained.

"This happened before I met you."

His interest doubles, but smile falls, "...yeah?"

"I have not thought about it one day since.."

"... yeah?"

"Remember how I told you," you tread lightly as some students pass you by with some excited waves, "-when I transferred here, I had to work with that proviso license from the Commissions office 'cuz of the whole 'double-triple-check' applicants' liabilities clauses? And mine took forever and a day, because of all those traffic violations that were completely legal where I was last stationed?"

"Uh-huh."

"And that meant I took nothing but graveyard shifts for the first, like, six months... so I basically broke ground solo before the agency could pick up my contract?"

"Uh-huh...?"

Reader sets the scene for a particular alleyway they'd been stationed at, something of a traffic stop role and in prime position for hopping onto the freeway if needed. Helmeted with your visor up, you could keep on coms while getting a little bit of fresh air to keep you awake.

But it's also the sort where villains make their playground meetups and cause some trouble for unsuspecting folks. It's easy work- though trouble could crop up at any time....

Enter the hero you caught sight of across the room: the man you'd watched string up a trio of baddies so expertly, you knew they were never gonna get anywhere near you, so why flinch?

The hero who'd snidely commented how he coulda appreciated the help, but who you assured with a saucy 'you had it under control, hon'.

The hero who you proved yourself to by jumping into action together in a bit of an impromptu high-speed chase.

The hero who ultimately caught your name, but chose to call you 'Speedy' after your impressive performance. Who said you were no rookie like he thought.

The hero who chipped the lip of your helmet in thanks and patted the rear of your bike in a casual move before setting off into the night again, sufficiently making a mark on your fluttering heart as your new favorite hero of Japan.... who you cannot believe you with and who is now approaching over Bakugou's shoulder:

"... AIZAWA?!?"

"Eraserhead," you corrected gracefully.

A flurry of emotions crossed Bakugou's largely incredulous face, though he settled on merely repeating,

"You flirted... with Aizawa?!"

Forcing Bakugou to lower his volume was a lost cause, but you could control yours, "I had-not-met-you-yet-- remember that!"

And was it considered flirting? You could barely get a read on the guy

"Nah, I'm still stuck on my fucking teacher hitting on you... and you called him what?? You know how fuckin' old that guy is?!!"

"Thirty-nine." you fire back immediately.

"--HEH?"

And you can't stop-- though you have the gall to look a little sheepish.

"Scorpio. Ambidextrous. Has a white cat named after the title character of Samurai Jack."

"...."

"Went on Present Mic's show a few months back.. not that I had a notification or anything for when it aired-"

Bakugou stands in a rare moment of silence. Disbelief, rage, shock, and maybe something heated lay behind his eyes, but you honestly can't tell which is going to win out.

".. you're fucking with me."

"I am not."

"

"Absolutely not! Kats, he is never going to single me out of an entire room here, and think back to one patrol night out of thousands, that's ridicul--"

"Bakugou... 'Speedy'."

Alongside Kirishima's proud presence who had been anxiously awaiting this interaction stood Aizawa: fitted with his off-hours eyepatch but who clearly did -in fact- remember you.

As long as you avoid Bakugou's absolute stare of death, you can properly school your reaction to be one of perfect charm; as always when meeting other Pro-Heroes. It's not like you still hold any feelings whatsoever with this man... but you'd truly rather have this conversation anywhere else than beside your darling Katsuki, who's about to blow up if you so much as smile at his former homeroom teacher.

"Should I be scared that you remember me sans helmet, or flattered?" you offer pleasantly.

Aizawa gives a little bow to you before straightening up with a smooth reply, "I never forget a face."

If looks could kill, Shota Aizawa should be collapsing on the spot under Bakugou's eye. And even if you think it's a harmless comment, you know for a fact you'll be paying for it later.

--Scene--

To be continued, m'loves?

TLDR; Bakugou:

[defectivehero]

hiii! could you continue the hero x parent supervillain fic? i really wanna know what happens!

sincerely me

yes, i absolutely can...! sincerely me ;3

part one

warnings: family issues, abandonment, mentions of foster care; typical blood/injury

When the supervillain asserted that they'd be a better parent from now on, the hero was suspicious. Their sudden renewed presence in the hero's life felt like a trap and, months later, it still does. The hero has seen the supervillain out and about, and, while their parent hasn't inhibited their work, they've certainly made things... more interesting.

On the plus side, the hero is somewhat untouchable to a majority of the city's villains. Anyone smart enough to recognize the supervillain's power gives them a wide berth.

On the other hand, the hero feels a bit patronized. Many of their opponents' attacks are both nonfatal and, more frighteningly, nearly harmless. Suddenly, enemies that would never have hesitated to kick them to the curb are practically allowing them to win. It's frustrating and confusing as hell. The hero doesn't know what to do with this sudden shift in behavior. Honestly, it gives them a bit of guilt—they've become the villain in the situation, fighting with unrestrained power while their enemy scrambles to obey some sort of unspoken ethical system.

They're not foolish enough to think this sudden change in their enemies' behavior is a coincidence. No, this is the supervillain's doing. And they're not sure how to feel about it. The hero is capable enough to fight on their own, so they don't exactly like the thought of their parent attempting to fight their battles for them.

It's ironic, the hero thinks, when their parent's plan backfires. After all, not everyone is so keen to obey them. It doesn't matter if the supervillain is the most powerful and dangerous person in the city: there are enemies foolish and cutthroat enough to fight them anyway.

It's especially ironic when the hero responds to the sighting of an incapacitated person, only to find their supervillain parent collapsed in an alleyway. They immediately freeze at the mouth of the alley, contemplating whether they should stop to help or keep walking. That is never a choice heroes can make: they're always duty-bound to save people, regardless of who they are (or what they've done).

The hero sighs and breaks the distance between the two of them, crouching down in front of their parent. A foreign feeling of protectiveness briefly surges through their chest, before it is quelled by their doubt and suspicion. This could be a trap, designed to ensnare them by preying on their good nature.

But it's not a trap, the hero is soon forced to realize The blood coating the pavement beneath them; the supervillain's crumpled form; the pitch-black night... All of it is painfully real. And this time, it's the hero who has to swoop in to the rescue.

They frown down at their parent, studying the lines of their face and finding an unfortunate resemblance to themself. The hero can see how others make the connection between the two of them so easily: they have the same eyes, same sharp jaws and shaggy hair. Something burns in the back of their throat. "I'm not doing this for you," the hero feels the need to clarify. They bend down and place a hand under the supervillain's head.

They don't expect the supervillain to open their eyes, much less to respond. "I would expect nothing less," the supervillain chokes out through gritted teeth. The hero blinks at them in disbelief, something scarily similar to concern tugging at their chest at the supervillain's dazed state. There's a foreign feeling reverberating through their rib cage.

"I could just leave you here," the hero whispers, their voice breaking. Their eyes are stinging with unshed tears. "No one would know." Their grip momentarily tightens. Their hands are shaking. The hero bends their head down to hide the torn expression they're sure they're wearing on their face.

"You would know," the supervillain murmurs, blinking slowly. Somehow, the hero knows the supervillain isn't speaking out of their own self-interest. The statement is more of an acknowledgment of their relationship. The hero's parent turns their head to the side and lets out a garbled sound, coughing crimson splatters into their hand and onto the grimy pavement.

The hero takes a slow, deep breath. They bite the inside of their cheek hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste in their mouth anchors them to the present moment. They've stalled for too long; their parent's state is precarious and they need to be treated.

The hero scoops the supervillain up into their arms. It takes a little effort at first, but they manage to find a suitable position for walking. Their parent immediately stiffens and tries to escape their grip with an uncharacteristic panic.

"No, no," they choke out. "No hospital."

"No hospital," the hero acquiesces. They hadn't planned on going to the hospital—it's out of the question for villains like their parent. Even the hero themself has to avoid the hospital sometimes, albeit for different reasons.

The supervillain relaxes slightly. They look rather out of it, and they're not putting up a fight anymore. The hero remains silent as they continue walking, ducking through dark alleyways to avoid being seen.

"This is not... where I saw us spending time together," the supervillain chokes out, blood trickling from their lip. "A bowling alley, an arcade..." They trail off, nostalgia in their voice.

The hero's brows furrow. They haven't been to a bowling alley since their thirteenth birthday—one that their parent was certainly absent for. They've never liked arcades, either: they're too loud and bright. Their jaw clenches. The supervillain has never truly known them, regardless of what they may claim. Blood is all that connects them.

"I think this is supposed to go the other way around," the supervillain remarks helpfully, evidently referring to the hero carrying them. The hero is starting to get annoyed with their commentary.

"Stop saying things like that," they admonish them, continuing along their way. "It's creepy." They look around the corner warily, before proceeding. Truthfully, they're not quite sure where they're going—but they'll have to figure it out soon.

"I don't know how to be a parent."

The hero stops in their tracks, the unexpected confession provoking several unwanted feelings within them. Just how long have they waited to hear the supervillain say that? How long have they waited for an apology that never came? How long has the hero spent, waiting for their own hero to swoop in and save them from their foster home?

They're not sure how long they stand there, staring off into the distance at nothing in particular.

"Where are we going?" The supervillain whispers uncertainly. The remark promptly snaps the hero out of their thoughts, forcing them to focus on the matter at hand. The hero takes a slow breath.

"What's your address?" They demand firmly.

The supervillain has the audacity to look surprised at their command. They must be deluded, if they think the hero is willing to give them their personal address. The supervillain mutters their address and the hero very nearly sighs in relief when they realize how close it is. They had just been following their gut instinct—and, somehow, it led them in the right direction.

Ten minutes later, the hero is standing in front of a locked door. Their arms are burning from the exertion of carrying an adult in their arms. Their parent notices and quickly tries to reach out to the screen at the side of the door, which evidently reads their fingerprint. Their hand doesn't quite make it, leaving the hero to awkwardly adjust them in their arms and use their free hand to press their parent's finger to the reader. The door finally swings open and the hero quickly helps the supervillain down to the couch.

"You have a nice home," the hero says helplessly, struggling to get rid of the tension in the atmosphere that sends goosebumps rising along their skin. They cross their arms over their chest, feeling extraordinarily out of place.

"It could've been ours," the supervillain murmurs. The hero tears their eyes away from them, sickened at their parent's cruelty. The hero wasn't the one to leave. The hero wasn't the one to disappear.

"You weren't there," the hero reminds them bluntly. The supervillain blinks and almost jolts out of their reverie. "And you won't be." They say. The hero isn't sure what the expression on their face is, but it must be suitably distressed, because the supervillain is reaching out to place a weak hand on their forearm.

"I will be." Their parent assures them.

The hero shakes their head silently, a tear crawling from their eye and carving a path down their cheek. Their parent's temple is sweat-soaked and they're growing to look a bit sickly. The hero stares down at them for several minutes, before getting to their feet and finally grabbing their phone from their pocket to call a healer. This particular healer doesn't care who they're healing, as long as they can pay. And judging from the supervillain's lavish home, they can more than afford it.

The healer responds within a few moments and they promise to get there within fifteen minutes. The call ends and the hero's job is done. They've done more than enough at this point. It is their time to leave. They don't belong between these walls; they don't belong in the intimate, personal life their parent has created for themself.

But... the hero can't get themself to move. They're anchored to their parent's side, helplessness clenching their fists and tightening their shoulders. Somehow, they stand there long enough to give the healer ample time to arrive. The door swings open for the healer—indicating they've visited this residence before—and the hero feels their body moving before they can think things through. They're stalking through the unfamiliar house silently, heading into a bedroom with an en suite bathroom and closing the door with a silent click.

The hero can just barely hear the healer beginning their work, talking quietly to themself as they work. The healer thinks themself to be completely alone in the supervillain's residence.

...Meanwhile, the hero surveys the room they now find themself in, thoroughly confused and angry at their own actions. Why didn't they leave when they had the chance? Why did they stay? The supervillain abandoned them for more than a decade, yet the hero can't leave them for a single moment? How many times was the hero left to slowly decay over cracked pavement?

They move to the bathroom connected to the bedroom, finding themself standing in front of a grandiose mirror. Their parent stares back at them, shaking their head as if admonishing them for their remorse and guilt..

The hero wrenches their gaze away and buries their head in their hands, sinking to the floor and pressing their hands to the plush carpet. Their breaths are far too quick and short, leaving their chest burning and saliva slipping from their lips as they try in vain to keep their composure.

Their supervillain is being stitched back together in the next room, leaving the hero to fall apart in this one.

©2024, @defectivehero | @defectivevillain, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

_____________________

me reading this ask, pretending like I know what happens next: ah... yes... the story I definitely planned for... 😅

ohihohohoh I love how this turned out, though. mwhahahhaha

_____

thanks for reading! <3

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[hwnglx]

another anon's request <𝟑

txt's turn on's and turn off's

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

yeonjun

turn on's > popular and well-liked > even-tempered -> doesn't get riled up or offended easily > knows their place and doesn't overstep any lines -> good manners and knows how to behave according to the situation > curious about him -> shows clear interest in him, has all their attention on him > a lot of compliments, flattering, talking about how outstanding and special he is > flirts in a very direct manner (he feels drawn to people who aren't afraid to be honest about their interest with him) > don't hate me for saying this lol but he likes people who are “worse” or less talented than him because it feeds his ego (he can get insecure when someone overtakes him at something he's extremely ambitious about)

turn off's > has an inflated ego without being able to back it up with the necessary skill (they're all talk with no substance behind it) > doesn't know how to control their energy and oversteps boundaries, offends people a lot (especially verbally) > keeps bragging about themselves and triggering his insecurities -> makes themselves look better than him, pushes his buttons and damages his ego > obsessed about controlling him or putting certain rules on him (treating him like he's supposed to subdue) > takes life too seriously, is very uptight or conservative > too cautious and scared of doing things all the time -> doesn't know how to have fun

soobin

turn on's > capable of carrying responsibilities in a graceful and easy manner -> does everything they need to do and doesn't get stressed out easily > commands attention and knows how to make people listen to them > has an exact plan for their life and takes pride in knowing what they want -> doesn't allow external forces or opinions to influence their life path > introspective and reflective about their own actions -> acts with integrity and self-awareness > rigid workaholic, truly enjoys working (he'd feel fueled to put in more effort into his own work and would get inspired and encouraged by their diligence)

turn off's > too cold and detached > too different to him (he needs some sort of alignment in values and something to bond over, otherwise he just finds it awkward and sees it as a bad match) > tbh, he finds it difficult to connect to foreigners and prefers korean people, just because he thinks they'd naturally understand his perspective and values in relationships better > doesn't feel the need to improve and just remains stuck in the same place (he thinks you can always upgrade yourself) > gets afraid of conflict and doesn't know how to assert themselves > too indecisive and has no idea what they want (keeps being influenced by others)

beomgyu

turn on's > independent and content on their own -> doesn't appear to be in need of anyone and just does their own thing without caring about others > soft and sensitive-hearted people (he likes this co-existence of being very hard-working and diligent while being a softie deep inside. also is incredibly emotional himself, so he subconsciously feels drawn to people of similar nature) > very ambitious and active in their pursuit of their goals (but isn't "in your face" about it, like they don't feel the need to show their achievements off to everyone) > carries a lot of inner strength and resilience > doesn't call everyone “friend” but deeply cares & cherishes the ones they do -> selective about who they get close to

(can i just say miss winter fits this man's type like a glove, i kept seeing her in my mind's eye and literally couldn't get her off my mind. he's still obsessed with her lol)

turn off's > doesn't care about anyone and keeps detaching themselves emotionally > doesn't have their priorities straight and keeps juggling between different people (like they have several people they're talking to, don't make things clear for any of them and keep leading everyone on. he wants to feel special!) > keeps neglecting and letting down their loved ones -> struggles with keeping a connection happy and stable > overly concerned and worried about people's perception -> obsessed about always making a good impression on everyone (like someone who takes 20 hours to doll up, keeps wanting to take pics for insta everywhere, things like that. he prefers more natural and laidback people)

taehyun

turn on's > deep thinkers and mysterious > very transformative and challenges you to change -> has a powerful effect on you (someone who makes you rethink certain opinions and lingers in your mind for a while) > has this aura of “perfection” to them -> very put together all the time (he'd feel intrigued and get curious about getting to know them beyond the facade) > turns out to be very sociable and nicer than people think (someone who has an intimidating first impression but is actually very friendly) > knows how to party and have a good time > doesn't get emotionally attached to people much -> is more casual and laid back about their connections

turn off's > too obsessed about their own goals with no consideration for anyone else > extremely stubborn and fixed in their ways -> inable to relax and just allow things to flow > literally a virgo mars (their need to constantly plan everything to a T would drive him crazy) > keeps criticising him and is never satisfied with anything > but also isn't direct or honest with him and avoids confrontation (he can mostly tell when someone pretends to be pleased when they truly aren't) > avoids and is scared of negative emotions and reality -> runs away from things that makes them uncomfortable > keeps being stuck in their gloomy and sad world (he'd think it's annoying and kills the fun for everyone)

huening kai

turn on's > very different to him (looks, personality, cultural background, language, etc.) > an underdog (this is so cute, he feels drawn to people no one seems to root for. like he feels for them and wants to support them even more) > generous people who don't want anything in return > has a joyful and beautiful connection to their family (also sees their close friends as family and puts a lot of value into keeping their connections happy and stable) > has strong opinions and is good at asserting themselves in a direct manner (isn't scared of confrontation and will defend themselves plus their loved ones with no hesitation) > good at arguing and standing their ground (he just thinks it's impressive when a person doesn't get intimidated and always finds the right words to justify themselves) > charming and charismatic -> naturally draws attention to themselves

turn off's > too inexperienced or immature in relationships (he himself can get kinda awkward still so being with someone similar to him just wouldn't work) > keeps sending mixed signals and doesn't communicate or express themselves directly (he feels like he'd go insane trying to figure them out, it'd make him very insecure) > too arrogant and cocky -> puts themselves above everyone > doesn't know how to give in or accept defeat -> too proud to admit they're wrong or messed up > is very indecisive and unsure what they want -> never really forms an opinion and just stays neutral about everything

[daytaker]

Can you do how the brothers would react to a mc who bottles/masks their emotions? im autistic and tend to do this slot due to my autism. sorry for any english mistake i made, it's not my first language

Hi Anon! I'll do my best! 🫡

Demon Brothers React to MC who masks their emotions!

(Some specific attention to masking autism appears at points, but I tried to focus on general emotional masking.)

Each brother will catch on to what's happening with you at their own pace. I'll list them in the order I think they'd either catch on or effectively behave as if they have caught on (in Beel's case).

Beelzebub

Beel might not be the first to actively understand, "Oh, this person is masking their emotions," but he will never act as if there's something wrong with how you behave. He's very chill and often quite stoic himself, so he doesn't see this as a sign that you're arrogant or boring or otherwise "lacking" in some way. That's just the way you are.

Because he sees this as "just the way you are," he doesn't make any special provisions for how to treat you. When you're not emoting, you're not emoting. On the rare cases where you're visibly upset, you're upset. Beel is a good, dependable demon to have around at times like this, because he's quiet and nonjudgmental. He's willing to hug you, or not, depending on what you want. You can talk to him, or you can just sit with him and not say anything. Basically, Beel is a blessing and probably the person you're able to feel connected with the soonest.

Lucifer

Lucifer, being very perceptive, will probably have an inkling from the start that there's more going on behind the scenes than you like to show, but it will take some sort of incident for it to hit home. Maybe something shocking happens and you seem to dissociate rather than "act shocked", for example. Or you explode into a sudden rage after smothering your feelings for too long. Eventually, the mask always slips, and Lucifer will catch onto this quite quickly.

When he feels he understands the basic situation, he'll be protective of you, but in a standoffish sort of way. He'll recognize your need for alone time and put forth extra effort to keep his brothers from pestering you when you seem especially worn out. He's also the sort who might put into place or recognize some sort of nonverbal way of communicating your needs. Texting emojis, for example, or whether you leave your door ajar or closed. He doesn't tend to come out and specifically ask you what's wrong, though. He's more cautious in his approach.

Asmodeus

Asmo is most likely to recognize it after spending time together and watching your social battery drain and then die completely. If you're the sort of person whose self-control erodes when you become socially exhausted, you'll probably make it clear at this point that you have stores of intense emotions that you keep hidden.

After this, he'll be surprisingly attentive to your needs. He tries to preempt any potential explosions of emotion by taking you to get massages or buying you lotions and tonics meant to soothe you.

He'll also be protective of you, getting between you and his brothers if he thinks they're going to bother or overwhelm you. And if any of his brothers seem like they don't understand why you act the way you do, he'll come to your defense.

Satan

Satan has plenty of experience learning to suppress his emotions, so it's not much of a surprise to him that this is what you're doing. The reason he doesn't figure it out sooner is probably because he's less interested in spending time with you at the beginning than some of the others. As you start to interact more often, though, he'll recognize the masking behaviors.

Satan hates to be questioned about his feelings, so he won't do that with you at all. Instead, he'll just recommend you a few books and show you the best local places to pet cats. Sure, those happen to be his best coping strategies for dealing with big feelings, but what works for him might work for you too. After that, he feels a sort of unspoken camaraderie with you, and you become someone he likes to sit with quietly while you each do your own thing.

Mammon

Now we're getting to the brothers who struggle to understand the situation. Mammon feels put out when he doesn't get the reactions he wants to his statements and behaviors. He's a theatrical guy, and even if the response he gets isn't positive, he still wants to get something. He's not quite sure how to react when he doesn't get anything. This will make him a little insecure with you, which he might in turn mask as frustration. He'll probably be confused the first time he sees a major slip, and he might need one of his brothers to nudge him in the right direction to understand what's going on.

After he gets it, he'll be much more considerate of you. He won't get frustrated with you for your lack of visible emotions, and he might seek out other ways to express (and receive) affection, because that's something he really craves from any relationship. He still wishes you'd react more to his shenanigans, but he might get up the nerve to just ask you directly what you think about things instead of hoping for some sort of reaction that will tell him what he wants to know.

Leviathan

Levi is an interesting case. There are a lot of headcanons about Levi being autistic, and I'm not here to argue for or against that. But in the case that you are an autistic person who masks, he might not recognize what you're dealing with as remotely similar to him, because whether he's on the spectrum or not, he barely masks at all. He's extremely emotive, very open about his special interests, and generally wears his emotions on his sleeve. He'll perceive masking as coldness, or maybe even haughtiness, and he might resent you for it unfairly. At any rate, he'll probably feel uncomfortable with you until either you slip so badly that he has no choice but to start to realize what's happening or, like with Mammon, someone explains it to him.

As I see it, your relationship with Levi could progress in two different ways.

The first is "rather slowly." Even if he understands that you're masking your emotions, he still doesn't quite know how to deal with such a lack of enthusiasm, and he often worries that you're bored. He's an overthinker, and he can never quite convince himself that you don't actually think he's an insufferable loser, because if you mask your emotions, how does he know that the emotion you're masking isn't disgust?

The second is "the good listener." Sometimes, Levi just wants a sounding board to jabber at about his special interests. If you don't feel bothered by that, he'd probably love to talk and talk and talk...and talk and talk...and talk... and talk and talk about whatever games, manga, idol groups, or anime he's into at the moment. If you're interested in those things too, you could really bond over this, especially if you text him your own thoughts and ideas about these subjects. Reassurance that he isn't actually boring you to death is always a good thing for him.

Belphegor

Belphie, more than any of his brothers, isn't too interested in working through difficult relationships to get to understand the other person. If we treat this scenario as one where Belphie isn't just trapped in the attic from the start and instead has time to interact with you the same way as his brothers, he'll probably find you fairly cold and unreliable. He also seems, to me, less interested in adjusting his treatment towards you once he is made aware of your situation. I'm not a Belphie hater! I want to put that out there now. I'm fairly Belphie-neutral. But he does strike me as the most traditionally selfish brother, and being extra conscientious of you and your feelings doesn't seem like it would be his top priority.

At the same time, he's used to Beel, who isn't an overly emotional person either, so it might not bother him much. He just isn't probably the best person to go to when you need emotional support. But he'd be a decent friend when you're both in a good mood. Out of all of the brothers, he's probably the one who would be least compatible with you in any kind of romantic relationship.

[bonefall]

did you already start planning squirrelstar's leader ceremony and if so who's giving her the 9 lives?

I'm still a bit concerned that the writers will pull something with her 9 lives, but I've got so many good choices for BB!Squilf that it's not an issue to start considering who's gonna turn up for her.

Plus, honestly, NOT totally interested in abiding by canon if they commit the dumbshit we're suspecting they might. Pre-emptively biting and killing it.

Here's the list of candidates so far. Everyone with a * is a definite yes;

Goldenflower Her mentor in BB, replacing Dustpelt! After everything Squilf has gone through with Bramblestar, and after Golfy took her son's side after the big reveal, it feels good for her to show up with a life for Judgement. To decide when to listen to her heart, but also, when to realize when it is leading her astray.

Sandstorm Mother choice is a solid one, though I'm leaning towards giving this life to Ferncloud for variety. Squilf's got 5 immediate relatives here to give her a life.

Hollylark* Her grandkit, and Sparkpelt's mate who sacrificed xeir life to take her illness away. Xey'd give her a life for Interdependence, for all of the connections that bind a Clan together. Love, friendship, convenience, family. Squilf is familiar with sacrifice in service of it... but it's more than that. To love is to BE loved-- she must accept reciprocity. And... xey'd make some kind of loaded comment about Nightheart, knowing that neither one of them want to talk badly about him. I might end up changing xeir life to something like "letting go," as foreshadowing for how I'm absolutely planning for Nightheart to NOT return to ThunderClan after his road trip with Frostpaw. BUT I don't decide arcs until they're done so we'll have to seeeeee

Firestar* Basically required. Squirrelstar is his daughter, the successor of his ideology, and the follow-up to a leader that Firestar considers a mistake. His chats at these sorts of ceremonies often get wistful, so I feel like they'd talk about second chances, wanting people to be better than they are, how to fix things that are broken and when they aren't worth the effort. He says it explicitly, "You're just like me. A spark of my flames, burning bright, long after I've become starlight..." His life would be for Progress. To continue to evolve and grow, to never be so stuck in the past that she can't see the future, to know when things can be fixed and when they must be broken.

Rosepetal I want to save her on one hand, but on the other, having her go out in a blaze of glory at some point in ASC or TBC is a good reason why Squilf didn't make her deputy. Rose was her first apprentice and has always been a dedicated, passionate warrior who would deeply want that spot. If she's here for the 9 lives ceremony, she'd give Squilf a life for Ferocity. "Give them twice the Hell you always do, so that it's like I'm right there next to you."

Shrewface* (Shrewpaw in life.) Her guardian angel. He helped her hide the secret of Leafpool's pregnancy, and has always stood over her, providing help secretly. Now he can finally stand before her and give her a life. He would actually stumble and chuckle, because he's wanted to do it for so long he's blanking on the life he wants to give her. On one paw, Squilf is a little annoyed. It's a super serious leader ceremony, holy moment in her life, but on the other... Shrewface is so HAPPY! His joy is infectious. He's standing before her as the adult he would have been, but under that, she sees the funny teenage best friend that she lost so long ago. It feels almost like being a kid again. So she picks her own life by saying, "How about one for Joy?" And he says, "Hey that's a great idea!"

Rainwhisker A ThunderClan cat who died in the WindClan Civil War, and someone she remembers fondly. The life he gives is a life for Collateral. He has no shame in how he died, and he believes Firestar's call was the right one. But he needs to remind Squirrelflight that beliefs are backed with blood. Every time she brings her Clan into war, there is a chance that someone will die because of her choice. He restates that he believes his death was noble; but his life will remind her of the cost that someone else might pay.

Sootfur If it's not Rainwhisker, I'd like his brother Soot to be here. I think his death was haunting, with how Squilf couldn't save him, watching him tumble down a rockface because of his broken leg and being brutally murdered by what-is-now a boar. She's carried guilt from how she couldn't save him her whole life, so in contrast to Rainwhisker, his life is for Acceptance. To remember that not everything is her fault, and she could NEVER be so perfect as to avoid all of life's misfortunes. Even if others pin blame onto her for something she couldn't control; no leader is powerful enough to save everyone. Thinking about it though, I might really try to slot BOTH of these guys in. I think the contrast of the two back to back is powerful; that actions have consequences, but not every tragedy is a consequence.

Ferncloud She just died very recently, taking both Graystripe's super edition AND his sacrifice in the Dark Forest. Graystripe is still alive, living at the tribe with his son Stormfur. She confronted Ashfur for Squilf, so it feels right that she also comes to support her here. Ferncloud, for the first time in so many years, looks at peace. She isn't gray and grizzled anymore, but sleek and vibrant. Her family surrounds her, Dustpelt, Elderberry, Brindleface, her many lost kits. So, the life that she gives Squilf is for Faith. In StarClan that she will always have Clanmates in the skies to watch out for her, in her Clan that there will always be future angels fighting by her side.

Longtail Her uncle, and Jayfeather's mentor who trained him into the full angel-punching cat he became. During the big trial she has in Squirrelflight's Horror, Longtail was one of her loudest supporters, and eventually nudged her backwards so her son could grab her ankle and drag her back down to the mortal plane. He's always been her wonderful uncle, so, he might end up taking that life for Faith from Ferncloud. Just depending.

Feathertail* I want her to show up in the ceremonies of every patrol cat who achieves power, as a given. If we get Crowstar, I also want her to be there. I just think it's nice that if Crow, Bramble, and Squilf ever did end up able to chat about this together, in spite of the TANGIBLE awkwardness of the three of them being in the same room, they'd be able to make a joke about Feathertail Gives You A Life and it would land a little TOO hard, be a little TOO funny, because they were hoping that SOMETHING would lighten the air and it did. But anyway, this incredibly specific desire aside, Feathertail Gives You A doobie life for Tranquility. That the once-impulsive Squirrelstar will be able to slow down and consider every action, to take a deep breath in stressful times and think about what she's about to do. That as leader she will be under immense pressure, yeah, but also immense power. She can always afford to take a moment before making a big decision.

Leafpool* MANDATORY. There's NO reality where I do not end off this ceremony with Leafpool. When she steps up, they can't look at each other without crying. It overwhelms them, to the point where Squilf can't even choke out her sister's name. Leafpool, meanwhile, has gotten used to controlling her body while her heart breaks into billions of little pieces. She'd done it for her whole life, and now, she does it again in death. "this life is for love," she touches her night-cold nose to Squirrelstar's, and the new leader's vision begins to fade into black, "you know why." From the darkness, memories burst forth. Of them as kits, their silly games and dreams, how they planned to one day be the cleric and leader of ThunderClan together. The terrible loneliness of being separated while Squirrelpaw was on the Sundrown Patrol. The ache in Leafpool's heart whenever she saw her sister mistreated; how she gave up on relationships with Crowfeather and, to some extent, with Mothwing as well so she could serve her Clan and stay with her family. The three kits, the anxiety as Squirrelflight took them, the way it felt like Leafpool was being flayed to give them up. Parenting, loyalty, betrayal as Hollyleaf snapped and revealed the secret Squirrelflight desperately didn't want to keep, the guilt that Leafpool felt watching her suffer for helping her. The way they always felt like, on some level, it was them against the world.

And then she wakes up, back on the shore of the Moonpool, with her Clerics beside her. Leafpool is gone. StarClan is, once again, very far away, and she's left with nothing but the cold feeling on her nose and the looming specter of war ahead of her.

12 candidates in total, but only 9 can take the spot. So I'll trim it down once we get there!

[tacoma-narrows]

Let's Get Back! presents the Shockwaves Tour!

[Disclaimer, this is not a real tour, this is just for fun lol]

AAA I have wanted to make a mockup of what a Let's Get Back! tour poster would look like for months now and I finally got enough an idea nailed down to make something!!

This was a super fun project to make!! I'd wanted to do some drawovers of some still shots from the music video for Beat Crusaders and Tropical Gorilla's song Droog In A Slum (the original pics will be below the cut) because I thought they really conveyed the sort of "action shots" I guess that would come from a band being on tour lol. With the originals being black and white as well, I wanted to see how that looked on my guys and I think they look pretty cool hehe

As you can also see, Let's Get Back! is not the only act on this tour! They're joined by Deadmeat as the opening act! Deadmeat is a band made up of @macaronichewtoyz's OCs and drawing my OC band collabing with a friend's OC band is something I've also wanted to do forever :3 If anyone else has an OC band (I know at least one or two more hehe) they will have a LGB! collab at some point !!

In terms of the tour locations, I didn't wanna assign dates to it bc that would have been WAY to complicated for the scope of this project, but in terms of locations, I tried to hit up areas relatively close to where my friends and mutuals live so they'd be able to see the show if it were an actual thing :3

Lots more goodies below the cut! Closeups on all the pieces in the poster, the logo, the original images that I drew over for the LGB! pics, etc.!

Hope you guys like this one!! Is LGB! coming to a city near you? Would you go and see them if they were? :3c

Closeups on all the LGB! pieces here! I rlly had a good time with these! Very much enjoyed the posing on PB and Rye's especially :]

Headshots of the members of Deadmeat! Requiem [she/it], Priscilla [she/her] and Brae [he/him]! Again, owned by @/macaronichewtoyz :3 Lots of things I've never (or only once or twice) drawn before with these three that was fun to work with! I am sure u will see a more dedicated Deadmeat piece from me in the future hehe

Here's the logo for the tour! I chose the name the Shockwaves Tour bc A) LGB! is out there making waves in their music scene, shaking things up, B) it ties in with their BLAST! album from earlier this year, C) it just sounds rlly cool as a name, and D) yes it also connects to the show Shockwave which is a subset of a special interest of mine lol. I was rlly happy with this logo tho! The perspective on it especially hehe

And then lastly, here are the pics from the Droog In A Slum music video that I based the pieces for the LGB! guys on :]

[project-sekai-facts]

i recall some kind of theory or pointing out of the fact that tsukasa's focus sets have had him getting less and less authority each time, and with the role of a minor character, it seems to have been intentional

oh i remember a lot of players on JP and KR side pointing that out when Phoenix released! and yeah I think it's definitely true

he went from king -> commoner -> jester/circus performer (for the king) -> a shadow

actually i have a lot of thoughts about his new card and i doubt this set will get an official blog post so i might just ramble a bit. (ftr: haven't read the event yet, sekai.best isn't updating and i surprisingly haven't really found anything from looking through JP/KR side either). specifically, i have a few thoughts about tsukasa being a shadow in this card because it's actually way more than that. oh to be a media student

first off the costume name: phantasmagoria. according to wikipedia, this was an old form of horror theatre that involved projecting scary images. (it's quite interesting actually you can read the article here). the effects in phantasmagoria productions would be done using magic lanterns, the ones you slide a disc with a picture into so it projects it onto a wall. usually, they'd use rear projection, where the lantern is placed behind the surface it's being projected on (so the surface would usually be smoke or some sort of semi-transparent screen) to keep up the illusion (rear projection is how old movies did backgrounds for reference).

now here's where the light in the card comes into play. for starters, rear projection clearly isn't being used here because he's on the stage-thingy (that will be relevant later). also instead of the light shining at him as if he were the subject being projected, it's shining down on him. while partially this was definitely done in part for composition cool points (the composition on this card is so fucking good actually it has nothing to do with symbolism but like holy shit), it's very reminiscent of a spotlight. as i said, i haven't had the chance to read the event yet but i'm assuming this will connect with him having to play a minor role (or play the shadow as the gacha says) and still putting himself in the spotlight.

i like that idea actually because if you link the fact he's standing in the spotlight that means he is still casting a shadow. it may appear to the viewer as if he's the centre of attention - he's right in the light, literally hitting all the composition marks to make him the sole focus of the card - but he's still just a shadow in a larger phantasmagoria. and actually, the spotlight sort of goes around him, he's pretty much cast in darkness despite being in the light and i love how that reflects him being part of a smaller role or "shadow". he stands in the spotlight and puts on a great show no matter if he's truly the star.

lastly: the pose. now look at this 4koma where he does a bird pose:

familiar? while in this 4koma he's meant to be imitating an eagle, i can't help but notice some striking similarities in how he's posed.

also the gacha has a feather! specifically a black one. unfortunately since there are no actual birds on the cards, nor are there feathers, I can't tell you exactly what bird he is meant to be..,

although if you wanted to really grasp at straws then his last event was called Towards the Phoenix at the Sky's Edge the play from that event was called Happy Phoenix and both the play and the lead role in it are incredibly significant to Tsukasa personally and he ended up cast as the lead role in that play and even though the lead role isn't the phoenix that bird is still significant to him in some way.

also going all the way back to the original point of his class decreasing with every set i think while yes in this set he has been reduced to nothing more than a prop, or even less so a mere shadow, but at the same time if you chose to go with that incredibly reachy phoenix idea, it's a comeback. the phoenix rises from the ashes, tsukasa can be reduced to nothing and still be the star owning the spotlight, the most powerful one in the room. hell, he's still on a stage despite everything. i think it's super neat actually that despite this being him at the lowest rank, he's actually in the place where he belongs.

i believe i've only briefly mentioned it in passing on this account before, but theatre is his life. above all else Tsukasa is an actor and the stage is where he thrives. i think it's so interesting how with each set he loses authority, but he also gets closer to being on the stage. the king is at (well, near) his castle where he leads (link to WMS), Torpe is at his piano where he performs (link to Dazzling Light), the Jester is at the circus where he performs, and then you get the one that's hardest to define as any set character. it's not a king or a pianist or jester, it's just some performer on a stage. this time there's no character, and it's not just "some performer" because this is tsukasa. it's still another role, but this time the role is, as the event synopsis states, more "real". this is tsukasa where he belongs, he never needed any sort of power or to play the role of another performer in order to shine because he himself is a performer at his core. Torpe is a performer, but Torpe is not Tsukasa. Tsukasa is Tsukasa, and Tsukasa is a performer. Something like that.

sekai.best please update

[xviiperr]

Yandere Clone Commandos!!

General analysis and headcanons. Inspiration from: Republic Commandos, Star Wars film franchise and comics.

Is this requested? No, no it's not. :') I'm taking a short break from writing for yandere Sonic fics to write some self-indulgence, which is why the whole thing here is so long 😭

Also! I wanted an excuse to introduce my yandere Republic Commando squad, consisting of: Trickshot, Shaft, ZZ and Heyday. Headcanons, suggestions, ideas, (anything really) is welcome for these obsessive boys!

Thank you so much to @yanknowalready for the book suggestion, I started reading the first one and I absolutely love it! I'm so interested to see what happens to Etain and Darman next, (they have such good chemistry!!) and I can't wait to read more of the series as I go on. Never thought I'd get so invested but my lack of activity is a testament to how invested I am into this book 😂

Anyhoo, I suppose I should share my thoughts about the commandos being yandere, based on what I've read in the book, what I've watched and what I know so far about the commandos.

Romantic/platonic. More romantic leaning.

TW: Frank talk of death, killing and typical yandere shenanigans. Shenanigans include: stalking, possessiveness, obsessiveness, murder, forced affection (have to squint a lil) and delusions. This writing also has some suggestiveness at the bottom, for my yandere Republic Commando OC, you might have to squint at two of his quotes for that.

Analysis:

Republic Commandos from the book are treated like cattle for the most part. Well, cattle that act like dogs. Give them an order and they usually obey. Usually. They are also meant to be independent thinkers, working in squads of four. Republic Commandos are mainly used for infiltration, performing covert operations, as well as sabotage, demolition and assassination being the standard expectation.

They are kept in isolation, separate from their regular brothers and designated captains. This is so they can remain on task and focus on their rigorous training. As said before, they work in squads of four, so they do not get much time to socialize. While reading the first few interactions the commando characters had in the book with their Jedi superiors, I have noticed the amount of genuine intrigue and interest in picking apart who these lightsaber users of the Force are.

It's no surprise that a Republic Commando would feel a strong pull to learn more about who he works for. A life of loneliness, apart from your squad, tempts the human mind to want to seek more. He doesn't need to know why his Jedi General is, as they are mainly given missions to complete and an explanation is usually added to the equation, he wants to know whom. Identity. Republic Commandos do want to have some sort of connection with their Jedi, leaning more towards professionals. They are told stories of just how powerful Jedi are and look up to them.

In some cases, like the Republic Commando series, (I've delved into some spoilers because I really like Darman and Etain) this pressure can turn romantic.

The Republic Commandos trained so hard on Kamino just to get to this point, surviving multiple exercises off world—most commandos don't make it back—just so they can see a Jedi for one chance. Commandos are usually trained by hired mercenaries, just like their brothers but, often under more deadly circumstances. Commandos who don't have a firing and killshot above 95% are marked for dead by the Kaminoins, including their whole original squad batch, executed in favor of a better batch. The Republic Commandos don't all get the luck in the world, often dying before meeting the Jedi. Which is why I'd think they'd be real desperate sons of a gun. So, it's an honor to serve with one, to protect a Jedi.

Republic Commandos are well-disciplined to a fault. With their lives in constant threat, they want to make sure they survive long enough until they slow down and die on the battlefield, rather than die to their rapid aging, because they want to see as much as they can before it's their time to pass. Republic Commandos become observant, skilled, patient and most importantly, intelligent in their training and exercises. Combining all of these skills together with their strength, Commandos are a four team force to be reckoned with. Even when on their own, a Republic Commando is a dangerous foe to enemies.

Republic Commandos are rugged from their training, as said before, regularly facing death. Other clones look up to these individuals, just as they do their Jedi. The Republic Commandos are a symbol of pure, unadulterated power. No average clone nor Arc trooper picks a fight with a Commando because of this. In addition to being strict and tacticionary killing machines, Republic Commandos are known to have a bit of a temper when their patience is tested. Taunt them and you walk away with an ugly assortment of bruises, deece pointed at your head moments before, (threatening to fry your brain with a lazer) and perhaps a cut or two. You're lucky to walk away unscathed.

The reason why I believe that Commandos have a bit of a temper is because, when reading Hard Contact, in the first few pages of the book: one man questions why the commando waits so long, only to be threatened with concealed viroblade hidden within the commando's wrist guard, right under his chin and dangerously close to his throat and general lifeline. And even further down the line, one commando named Niner, is physically and mentally fighting with himself to not insult the Jedi padawan, Etain out loud. She tested his patience plenty of times and he has gotten mad at her, even though he never verbally expressed it as much.

Republic Commandos are also fiercely protective. If they can help it, they do not leave their brothers and general people in charge, behind. They are loyal and most thoughtful men, not cattle, men. Even if they don't believe they are men, they are constantly reminded by their gentle natured Jedi who now have to direct a war by using violence, the opposite of what an actual peace keeper would do. If push came to shove, just like any clone, a Republic Commando would gladly lay down his life as a final sacrifice. They care for their loved ones. And try as they might to not form personal connections, they still do and it heavily affects them.

So, bringing yandere into the forefront, I'd say that once a Republic Commando gets hooked on their Jedi/person, there's no going back. Their connection would be hard to break, even in death. Their obsession could even kill them and they wouldn't be too upset because, in the end, they were meant to be expendable, only living up to 20 years or so. With such little time that they have, if they can help it, Republic Commandos try to spend as much time as they can with their loved ones. I can see a common theme being that they work together to get to their connection.

Headcanons:

As said before in my "brief" analysis, regular clones don't pick fights with commandos. Which leads me to believe that if a squad of commandos or just a singular one was obsessed with you, you would have a powerful guarding force of smothering clones, scaring off most competition. Not all. The Republic Commandos face many a challenging foe, in the form of daunting tasks and assigned missions. Oftentimes, their enemy is much more powerful than they are. However, that won't stop them from trying to "protect" you. Regardless if it's just one commando obsessed, I like to imagine that the whole squad would work and support their brother.

A drawback, (to them and probably not to you, depending on your situation) is that they are in a constant threat of being killed on deployment, as well as training sessions on Kamino so often that they cannot spend as much time as they want with you. If given the chance, the Republic Commandos would stop at nothing just to be with you, securely watch over your hobbies and interests and memorize everything that you do. Unfortunately for these lovesick boys, they don't get in contact with their darling because the commandos are separated from the regs and the real world to fortify their integrity. So, the time they spend with you is precious.

Republic Commandos are meticulous with keeping their gear clean, compact, safe and functional. They pay very close attention and if there are any outliers, the commandos do what they can to perfect or improve the situation. I believe that the commandos would be obsessive, possessive, definitely stalkers and very desperate for attention and love once you give it to them. It's unwise to form a connection. They do NOT let go. Especially if you are Jedi. Maybe you met your forever squad as a padawan in training, leading the squad as commander. Or maybe a civvi who helped out one too many times to be forgotten. If you were a Jedi, the commandos would look up to you, supporting your decisions and challenging your wit all for the effort of making a smart plan.

They are loyal to the end, ready to lay down their lives. The Jedi are like a deity to these troubled men, cursed with accelerated growth, giving them so little time to live. However, not all seek that life of religion as a Jedi or are gifted with the ability. Let's say you're what they call a "civvi," a civilian for clarification. It's gonna be damn near impossible to see you again then. A commando, (or a group of commandos) would have to do a grand old break the rules policy just so they can get to you. The commandos would stand as close as they physically can, without directly violating your personal space but, still staying in close contact. They will likely ask to hold your hand, or to be kissed by you because, well, they don't know if they're going to die the next day. Just give it to them once, please? Very repetitive in asking you because they're that touch starved.

In addition to their want for physical touch, (or some commandos who don't like physical touch OR the ones who sorta listen to you when you say you don't want to hold their hand or any of that) when in close proximity to the commandos, rarely do their eyes ever leave you. You're just too important to them and so, you have to stay in their eyesight to ensure your safety. For the commandos that are denied physical affection and the privilege of watching you up close, they resort to watching from afar, hiding where you cannot see them, staring at you through their DC-17's scope. If you don't want to be watched all the time...why don't you try asking to wear their helmets? I believe the commandos would be absolutely ecstatic that you asked to wear their calling card. It would be very difficult to get them to shut up after that.

Due to the nature of the Clone Wars, even if the commandos wanted to, they cannot take you back to their barracks or anywhere locked up. The best that a commando or group of commandos can do is take a photo of you to display on their holocron each time before they go on a covert mission. They might be dead the next time they try to come home, leaving you to be stuck in an uncomfortable situation where another squad might try to take you in as their darling or the worse, being stuck in a building deep on an unknown planet, with no means of escape. For some commandos, you dying isolated rather than in their living arms is a better option of seeing you again in the after life.

Speaking of death, not all commandos die on deployment. Many are left behind. In that case, if the commando is desperate enough and willing, he will desert the Grand Army of the Republic, (commonly referred to as the GAR) and devise a plan to take you with him. If his brothers are alive, you bet that the commando would find a way to convince his brothers to join him, leave behind that awful life they had known before in favor of a bright new future with you in it. They wouldn't have to wear such heavy gear anymore, be in constant threat of a battlefield death, (though the rapid aging would steal their chance of a full life) and best of all, you are there to enjoy every single day. Maybe the commandos might go and search Kamino for a cure to try and reverse their rapid aging before they get to you? Sure sounds like an interesting fic!

OCS!

But wait, there's more! I wanted to share with you guys some of my yandere Republic Commando OCS that I came up with in the process of writing this self-indulgence blurb. Still figuring out who will be what but, I can give you their squad name and personal names. Only one guy has actual stuff written about him in the image below.

May I introduce you folks to the Champ Squad, led by RC-1237, known as Trickshot. He works with his brothers Shaft, ZZ and Heyday, being a very successful yet, controversial squad. Wherever they go, there are rarely any survivors. They might like killing a little too much. I still need to draw the other three, as well as give them their RC numbers.

Trickshot

Meet Trickshot, my lovelies! Everything on that paper is gonna be written down from top to bottom so you can make sense of my goofy writing. I said I was only going to write a little bit about a yandere oc. A little.... WELP

Trickshot, RC-1237— The “Boss” of Champ Squad.

• He has a grim sense of humor, being the squad's designated demolitions man. Trickshot's name is deceiving because many expect him to be the sniper, (which he is a very good shot at that) but he is a phenomenal explosion's master.

• Trickshot's serious, keen, cunning and silent for the most part. He has the highest kill count out of his squad, taking genuine pleasure in killing Separatist scum. He especially takes joy in killing anyone he deems getting too close/hurting/potentially hurting his cyar'ika (sweetheart).

• The “Boss” is brutal, straightforward and overall, a hard man to be around. The Champ Squad has its high success rate thanks to Trickshot's harsh methods.

(author's note: next bullet point might change but I wanna know y'all's opinion!!)

• Trickshot's DNA was mixed with another diner, (alongside his bros) giving him sharper features. Unfortunately, he's aggressive.

ARMOUR:

• Bears distinctive purple painted armor. Symbolizes the dark feelings and bad dreams he has, though others assume it must be ego talking.

• You compliment him on it? He wants you to add something to it. Can't paint or any of that? Here, let him take your hand and help you.

• Promise you'd hold his hand? Just once? He might die on his next mission, please. Trickshot loves you.

FUN FACTS:

• Trickshot “accidently” killed a Jedi padawan, (shame the kid got on his nerves). His brothers covered for him, saying the child died to battle droids. Yeah, they (meaning Shaft, ZZ and Heyday) were also fed up with the padawan.

• Claimed the lightsaber fell down the heavy waterfall rapids, (Trickshot lied) keeping the sacred weapon for personal use.

QUOTES:

• “ Look, cyar'ika, (or sweetheart) I ain't itchin' to make you blaze up just yet. ” (He laughs).

• “ Relaaax, I'm not gon' hurt ya. I'm gon' hurt 'em. ” (Guns and bombs ready).

• “ Just 'lax up, will ya? I don't bite! Unless you want or I really wanna. ” (You're sitting on his lap).

And that's everything! Lemme know whatcha guys think! Yes, Trickshot's quotes were suggestive but, I feel like that would blend in with his personality? Idk, maybe it's just my opinion.

Fanart, ideas, suggestions, (anything really lol!?) is appreciated for Trickshot and his brothers in the Champ Squad! Thanks for reading!

[lemoncrushh]

That Sunday, That Summer

Summary: Kelly's roommate Bianca talks her into participating in a celebrity charity scavenger hunt that Harry Styles surprisingly attends.

Warnings: None! This is pure fluff!

Word Count: 6.1k+

A/N: Inspired by the Nat King Cole song. Harry x OC, written in first person. Originally posted in 2020 (I was not writing reader fics then).

If I had to choose just one day...

I hadn't planned on going. Sundays were usually reserved for me time. And this particular week had been grueling; I needed the day to chill and unwind. Besides, the new novel I'd decided to pick up on my way home on Tuesday was calling my name.

But Bianca had insisted I join her.

"It's for a good cause," she whined that Saturday evening after dinner as I loaded the dishwasher. "You'd be helping people, and isn't that what you're all about?"

I chewed on the inner side of my cheek. My roommate knew my weaknesses and soft spots.

"I hear a few celebrities are even joining in," Bianca added, wiggling her eyebrows.

I chuckled. "Celebrities are interested in spending their Sunday going on a scavenger hunt?"

"If it's for charity, yeah. Besides, we have an odd number of people who've signed up. If the teams aren't even, it won't be fair!"

Turning to look at her, I put my hand on my hip. "And what if I show up and so does someone else, and it's still uneven?"

Bianca rolled her eyes and groaned. "Pleeease Kel! You'd be doing me a huge favor if you go!"

"Why's that exactly?" I questioned.

"Because...I sort of already signed you up."

So that Sunday morning in early June, I reluctantly got out of bed way before the time I normally would, and by nine a.m., I was standing in an empty parking lot next to Bianca as we waited for instructions. The sun was still behind a cluster of clouds, allowing for a mild morning, but I knew within a couple hours I would be sweating through my t-shirt.

"So...when do we get this show on the road?" I asked Bianca impatiently.

"I think we're still waiting...on some people..." she muttered, looking around at the group that had gathered before gesturing toward the tall woman wearing a headset and holding a tablet. "Then Marla will divide us into teams."

"Great," I sighed.

"C'mon girl, it's gonna be fun," Bianca smiled, looping her arm through mine.

Holding back a yawn, I watched as Marla turned suddenly, and a string of people exited the building behind her.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, recognizing the familiar faces.

"I told you!" Bianca giggled, squeezing my arm.

"Yeah but...I didn't think..."

It wasn't completely unheard of to come across a celebrity now and then. Not in Los Angeles. I'd seen a few since moving there. But they'd usually been out of reach, just a glimpse for a millisecond before I had time to digest who it was, and they were out of sight.

I caught the blush in Marla's cheeks as she turned toward the crowd again, and the line of famous faces took their places on either side of her.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming!" she announced into her microphone. "For this very special event, for a worthy cause, we've had the overwhelming pleasure of recruiting these six very kind, and very generous people to join us. Please give a warm welcome to..."

My mind was in a fog. I heard Marla announce the names, each celebrity nodding and waving, but it sounded far away, like at the end of a tunnel in some celestial world in a dream. This couldn't be real.

But yet, here they were. Right in front of me. Swallowing hard, I finally made my own connections in my brain as to whom they were: a mix of actors, musicians and other personalities. But it was the man who stood on the far right that I was most in awe over. Dimples displayed on his cheeks as he smiled, dark stubble adorning his handsome face, curls all a mess around his head resembling a disheveled halo, he looked like an angel.

"Can you believe Harry fucking Styles is here?" I suddenly heard Bianca squeal in my ear, like the pop of a balloon.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I exhaled through my teeth.

"I actually didn't know for sure. There were rumors, but I didn't wanna get my hopes up."

The two of us listened to Marla as she explained how the game was played, and what the ultimate goal was. Though it was a competition, we had to remember it was for charity, and to have fun.

"We will now divide into six teams," she said before addressing the celebrities again. "If the team captains wouldn't mind calling out the names on your lists."

The first actor took the mic, calling out his team. Neither Bianca nor I were called. I felt her arm slip from mine as she took my hand instead, threading our fingers. Three more celebrities created their teams, leaving just two, with Bianca and I yet to have made a team.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," I muttered, trying to take in a deep breath.

"I feel ya girl," whispered Bianca. "But hey, even if we don't get Harry, it's okay, right?"

"Of course," I chuckled, though it was a feeble attempt.

When the woman standing next to Harry read off her list of names, and Bianca and I were not on it, I felt like I could pass out.

"Please tell me you had something to do with this, B!"

"I swear, I didn't!" she promised with wide eyes. "I helped with the scheduling and all, but I didn't have anything to do with the teams or the celebrities. I'm not that lucky."

"I guess that means the rest of you lot are mine," I heard Harry say with a giggle.

Bianca and I eyed each other, letting out giggles of our own. Calling out the final names, I heard Harry say ours, his sweet accent making mine sound better than I'd ever heard it spoken before.

In a momentary daze, I'd forgotten what to do next until I felt Bianca jabbing me in the side to get me to move. Following the other members of our team, we gathered near Harry as he began to greet everyone individually. Mentally shaking off some nerves, I psyched myself into believing he was just another person, like anyone else.

"Hi, I'm Kelly," I said when it was my turn, holding out my hand.

"Hello Kelly, I'm Harry."

I shouldn't have looked at his face then, because his eyes were blinding. Like magnets, they seemed to pull me in until I felt as though I was melting down a precipice of oozing syrup and honey. Nope, definitely not like anyone else. Help.

Whether I'd muttered the word aloud or not, I'll never know, but Bianca came to my rescue as she introduced herself as my friend as well as a member of the charity organization. Releasing my hand, Harry smiled and shook hers, declaring he was happy to meet us all and have us on his team. After Marla made her final announcements, Harry turned to his group, cutting the tension by making a joke and causing us all to laugh.

"Let's have fun, alright?" he suggested, lifting the papers in his hand and handing them out. "Looks like there's some pretty easy things on this list, others not so much. But we'll do our best."

"I already have something on this list," announced another woman on our team, reaching into her purse. Producing a Dum Dum, she beamed. "Lollipop!"

"Good job, Trisha," grinned Harry. "Hold onto that, and we can check that off our list."

Trisha's face went red as she dropped the candy back into her bag and drew an X on her paper. I smiled to myself, knowing that not only was she proud of her finding, but that Harry had remembered her name so quickly.

"Now, shall we venture out?" Harry asked, turning for the sidewalk.

With unanimous nods, the five of us followed Harry, stopping at the corner.

"Are we supposed to stay as a group?" asked one of the men, whose name I'd learned was Donte.

"I don't think we have to," replied Bianca.

"No, that's up to you," Harry turned to face us. "We just don't wanna double up on anything. That would be a waste of time. So if you wanna split, we'd have to divide up the list."

"I think we should stay together," I piped up. "At least...for now."

"Me too," added Trisha.

"Alright," Harry grinned, our eyes locking again. "Let's see how it goes together for the first hour or so. Then if we need to split up, we will."

Nodding, I bit my lip. I could tell Donte was not happy with my decision, but we'd only just started. I didn't want to risk being separated from Harry already. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me.

As we walked, we all chatted a bit, though it wasn't that easy with six people. The sixth man who made up our group I finally learned was Trisha's fiance, Brian. He was pretty quiet, and I assumed he'd only tagged along for Trisha's sake.

"So it looks like the only rules are that we can't purchase anything," I heard Harry say from the front of the line. "If we find anything we can't take with us, we can take a picture of it."

"Oh good, 'cause look!" I exclaimed, pointing to a chalkboard sign that stood outside of a restaurant. "Ice cream!"

Harry and the rest of the team looked at the sign, noticing the big multi-colored chalk drawing of an ice cream cone. Then turning his head back to me, his green eyes sparking, he smiled, making me melt once again.

"Good one," Harry nodded. "Very clever."

"Thanks!" I beamed, standing up straight with pride.

"Mind taking a picture of that, Kelly?" he asked me.

"Oh, sure," I fumbled with my crossbody bag, digging inside for my phone as the sound of my name from his pillowy lips made me weak in the knees. Finally, retrieving my cell, I snapped a couple of pics from different angles for good measure. As I zipped up my bag again, lifting my head, I saw Harry marking off his list, the rest of the team walking ahead. Looking up at me, his lips stretched into another winning smile.

"Hey guys," I suddenly heard Bianca call. "There's a boutique here. We could probably get one of the shopping bags."

"Oh yeah," I muttered, grabbing my list. We needed three different shopping bags.

"Come with me," she ordered, a slight smirk on her face.

Bianca quickly took me by the hand and led me inside the store, leaving Harry and the others outside.

"Go girl!" she cheered in a loud whisper.

"What?"

"He's into you!"

I rolled my eyes incredulously. "Oh, give me a break."

"I'm serious! After you found the chalkboard, he couldn't stop looking at you. He was still checking you out when I turned around just now."

"He was not checking me out," I scoffed.

"Whatever girl, be in denial." Traipsing off to the register, Bianca asked the cashier for a shopping bag. I pretended to be interested in a display of scarves until she reached the door and gestured for me.

When we stepped outside, however, the crowd seemed to have multiplied. Glancing around in confusion, I quickly learned why. Harry had been spotted. Watching the handful of people getting their photos taken with him, the rest of us waited by the curb.

"Is this gonna happen all day?" inquired Donte.

"He's famous, dude, what do you expect?" said Brian, surprising us all. "It was only a matter of time."

"Yeah, but our time is limited. And if we have to keep stopping..."

Harry strode up to us then, his tall frame casting a shadow on the sidewalk. "Sorry about that. I was trying to hurry it along. Sometimes they get a bit chatty."

"No worries," I smiled.

"I have an idea," Bianca offered. "I say we go ahead and try to mark off all the things on the list that we know we have to do as a group. Like all the group photos and stuff. We can probably get the other two shopping bags as well. Then we can split into pairs."

"Pairs?" I whispered, earning me a wink from her.

"Sounds good to me," Trisha shrugged.

"Me too," Donte echoed.

"I say we head across the street," Bianca pointed. "We can probably get the rest of the shopping bags, and maybe someone can take our picture with someone in uniform."

Waiting for the light to change, I saw the sun come out from behind the clouds for the first time that morning. I sighed, half wishing it would have stayed cool and overcast, but as we crossed the street, I caught Harry putting on his sunglasses, and I changed my mind.

We found the other shopping bags quickly, and as luck would have it, I spotted a woman in Army fatigues coming out of a coffee shop. She was taken aback when we asked her for a photo until we explained what we were doing. With a hesitant smile (and a hug from Harry), she agreed, so we all lined up on either side of her and asked a passerby to take our group picture (who also got one with Harry).

Within the rest of the hour, we were able to find a fast food menu, a napkin from a restaurant, a sale flyer, a photo of someone getting into an Uber, and a picture of a capital V.

"Um...how are we supposed to take a picture of everyone in one bathroom stall?" Trisha asked timidly.

Harry's laugh rang out like a songbird, and had I not been watching where I was going, I might've run into a parking meter. Removing his sunglasses, Harry's green eyes sparkled like diamonds in the sunshine, and the corners crinkled as he chuckled with glee.

"I actually have an idea for that," he began, pointing further down the block. "There's a restaurant down that way that makes amazing tacos. I happen to know the owner, and I also happen to know the men's toilet is very clean and has two stalls. I suggest we break for lunch - my treat, of course - and take our selfie while we're there."

I couldn't stop the smile from spreading on my face, not just from his generosity and cleverness, but the adorable way he pronounced "tacos".

"Aw man, I know that place," said Donte. "And you're right, they got some bad ass tacos."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Bianca. "I'm starved!"

Making a beeline for the crosswalk, Bianca and Donte led the group, followed by Trisha and Brian, leaving Harry and me to bring up the rear.

"Having fun so far, Kelly?" Harry inquired as we walked side by side. His close proximity sent electricity to my skin, and I found myself rubbing my right arm, though I was far from cold.

"Very much," I nodded, once again trying to psych myself out. So what if he'd smiled at me? He smiles at everybody. And he's...got a great smile...for heaven's sake! "This is very nice of you."

"Oh, it's my pleasure. I was beginning to think Donte didn't like me very much."

With a giggle, I looked up at him, noticing he'd placed his shades on his head, serving as a headband for his curls.

"I was thinking he wasn't too fond of any of us, to be honest," I commented. "But he seems to have mellowed in the last hour."

"Oh, so you didn't know him already?"

I shook my head. "No. Only Bianca. She's my roommate."

"I see," remarked Harry. "I was under the impression she was with him."

"Who, Donte?" I laughed. "No, they'd never met either."

Tilting his head, Harry seemed to study the pair far ahead of us, then looked back at me. "They seem to be getting along pretty well now."

Watching my friend, I noticed the way she was chatting with Donte, laughing at something he'd said before touching his bicep. If I knew Bianca - and I was sure I did - that was a signature flirting move.

"Yes, they certainly do," I agreed.

Just then, I heard the faint sounds of sneakers pounding on the concrete before I turned to see two young girls running toward us, their chests heaving.

"Oh my God, it's him, it's really him!" one of them screamed.

"Harry, look out!" I warned, afraid they were going to come right at him and knock him over.

"It's alright, love," I heard him say softly before he turned around, his hands out like he was ready to catch someone if need be. "Slow down, please."

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" the first poor girl choked, already in tears.

"It's really you!" breathed the other one.

"It's me," Harry chuckled low, his kindness turned up a notch. "Hello. How are you?"

"Great, we love you so much!"

"So much! Your album is the best!"

"Thank you, I love you too. Please catch your breath," said Harry. "I don't want anyone to pass out."

"Sorry!" the first girl squeaked, still trying to get her bearings.

"Don't apologize. What's your name?"

"Alicia."

"Chloe," added girl number two.

"Alicia and Chloe, it's lovely to meet you both," Harry said sincerely. "Now, I have something important I'm working on, and I have to get going. Did you want a picture?"

"Please!"

"Yes, please. If you don't mind." Chloe clutched her sparkly phone case in her hand as I stepped up to her.

"I'll take it for you," I offered, holding out my hand. "So you can both be in it."

"Oh, thank you so much!"

With a nod, I took her phone as the three lined up for the photo, Harry putting his arms around each of the girls. Snapping several shots in a row so Chloe had a few to choose from, I then zoomed in a bit and took a few more.

"Here you go," I smiled, giving Chloe her phone back.

"That's so nice of you, thank you!" she said again.

"Of course, no problem," I declared just as I looked down and spotted the girl's shoes. "Harry, look!"

"Ah, you've done it, again!" cheered Harry, nudging my arm.

Alicia and Chloe both looked at us perplexed as I asked, "Mind if I take a picture of your shoes? I'm playing a game, and I need something with a zebra print."

"Um...sure?" Chloe replied hesitantly.

After snapping the photo, we thanked the girls who then thanked Harry again before waving goodbye. Resuming our trek up the sidewalk, Harry spoke.

"That was very nice of you, by the way."

"Oh, it was nothing. Those girls are just like me. I'm a fan too."

"Of mine?" Harry raised a brow.

"Oh heck no, Bradley Cooper!" I chaffed, side-eyeing him to see his reaction before letting out a snicker.

Despite the shake of his head, Harry's dimples were on full display as he laughed at my jab.

"You're funny," he remarked.

I threw my head back, calling out to the sky. "Oh thank God, someone thinks I'm funny! I'm the only person who laughs at my jokes."

With another chuckle, Harry placed his hand on the small of my back. "C'mon, Funny Girl, let's go. The rest of the team is probably already at the restaurant."

While I didn't consider myself a comedian, or even particularly funny, the fact that I'd gotten Harry Styles to laugh was the highlight of my day - perhaps of my life. And though his hand slipped from my waist as quickly as he'd touched it, the tiny gesture was tender and left a feeling of warmth on my skin, even through my t-shirt.

When we reached the restaurant, Harry held the door for me, and just as suspected, the group was already gathered at a table, munching on chips and salsa.

"Where were you slow pokes?" Bianca asked with an unspoken accusation.

Rolling my eyes, I explained about the fans just as Harry arrived at the table with a plump latino man in an apron.

"This is Frederico," he announced in a semi-believable Spanish accent, patting the man on the back. "He makes the best tacos in all of California. And he says we're welcome to as many as we like."

Frederico laughed and nodded in agreement, handing out menus to the table.

"A friend of Harry's is a friend of mine," he declared, making us all cheer.

Our team of six devoured more than two dozen tacos while we shared good conversation. Everyone was glad to hear any story Harry had to share, but he was good at shifting the topic to someone else, wanting to learn more about each of us. Just within that half hour or so, I decided I liked him. Not that I hadn't liked him before. I was a fan after all, despite my joke earlier. But now I was getting to know him a little bit personally, and the vibes he gave off were very pleasant and right up my alley.

"So after this, we break off into pairs, right?" asked Donte.

I took notice of the look he gave Bianca. I almost smirked until Harry's voice answered his query.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. That is...if Kelly doesn't mind being my partner."

My eyes wide, I bit my lip as I felt Bianca kick me under the table. Facing Harry, I thought I might melt down my chair like the queso we'd been eating. Though his expression looked nonchalant, not even a twitch of a smile on his lips as he rested his chin in his hand, his eyes seemed to dance with joviality underneath the fluorescent lights.

"Um...sure," I said casually, reaching for my soda. "I don't mind."

I caught a glimpse of his left dimple, pushed back by the tiniest of smirks just before he lifted his glass to his lips. I wondered to myself how long I could possibly continue to stare at him if no one else was at the table. But alas, we were not alone, and I could already feel the blood rushing to my neck as Brian reminded us we still needed to take that group selfie.

Rising from the table, I dropped my paper napkin onto my plate as I watched everyone else walk single file to the restrooms. Suddenly recalling my phobia of confined spaces, I worried I might not be able to include myself in the group photo. Wringing my hands, I grasped at the extra stack of napkins, already feeling myself sweating.

"You coming, Kelly?" I heard a voice ask.

I knew it was Harry's, but I didn't look up at him just yet. Instead, I merely nodded as I dropped the wad of napkins onto the table, slowly making my way around it. Inhaling slowly, I blinked and exhaled in the same fashion.

"Hey. You alright, love?"

"Huh?" This time I lifted my head, Harry's calm face coming into view as I tried to focus. His arm was reaching out for me as I hoped to God the tacos I'd just eaten weren't planning an unfortunate encore.

"Yeah, I'm...fine," I gulped. "I'm just...oh God, how embarrassing..."

"What's wrong, Kelly, are you sick?"

Shaking my head, I wiped at my brow. "No. Just...claustrophobic."

"Shit. We probably shouldn't do this then."

"No, I'll be fine," I argued. "I can do it. For the team."

Harry chuckled as he rubbed my arm. "It's just a game, love. It's one photo. We don't have to take it."

"Come on, guys!" Donte called from the men's room, holding the door open. "The stall is huge! We can definitely all fit in here."

Though Donte's affirmation was reassuring, it was Harry's hand that caressed my forearm from my elbow to my wrist that had the most calming effect. Taking another deep breath as I watched his ringed fingers travel up and down my skin, I nodded.

"Yes, we do have to do this," I told Harry. "I can't let down my team."

Beaming at me like a child at Christmas, Harry pulled me close, squeezing my body against his in a one-armed hug as he placed a sweet kiss on the top of my head.

"Such a trooper, you are," he murmured. "I've got you if anything happens. Stand in front of me, okay?"

Releasing myself from his hold, I gazed up at him and nodded with a smile. Then following Donte into the bathroom, I giggled when I saw the rest of the group already inside the stall. Taking a gander at its size, I felt dumb or ever being nervous. Still, I did as Harry had said, and stood in front of him, facing the stall door. Then because he was the tallest, only by an inch maybe, Brian was the one who lifted his phone and snapped the selfie, all of us looking up and giving our cheesiest grins.

Nobody needed to know, not even Bianca, though she was my friend, and it was probably undetectable in the photo anyway, but Harry had looped his arm around my waist right before Brian snapped the picture. He'd held it there as he'd lifted his other hand to make a peace sign, and continued to keep it there long after he'd dropped that other hand to push my hair from my neck to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling my flesh and sending my heart into orbit.

"You okay?" he asked, his lips practically kissing the back of my ear.

"Yeah," I whispered back.

Oh, yeah. I was more than okay.

"You mentioned you work at a law firm?" Harry inquired after we'd split into pairs and divided up the remainder of the list.

We were walking in a more residential area, and I was hopeful we might be able to find a few domestic items as well as plants or flowers.

"Yeah," I replied, "I'm a paralegal at a medical malpractice firm."

"And you enjoy it?"

I shrugged. "Can't complain. I never really set out to do it or anything, like it wasn't my life's goal. But I started as a receptionist and eventually took some courses and...it's a good job."

"How long have you been there?"

"Seven years." Stopping in my tracks, I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear as I gazed straight ahead. "Jeez, has it been that long?"

Harry chuckled, as I shrugged.

"Anyway," I continued, my feet taking me ahead as well, "like I said, it's a good job. I like the idea of helping people, so it's much better than say, working for a criminal lawyer or something. I'm not sure I could do it knowing the defendant is guilty of a crime."

"But if they weren't, you'd still be helping them," Harry commented.

"I suppose so," I tilted my head. "Some of these families though...they lost loved ones; they're grieving. We're able to give them just a little bit of peace...and that makes me happy."

"You're a good soul, Kelly."

Looking up at him, I smiled. "Thanks. So are you. That's why we're here, right? Or at least you are. I'll admit, Bianca dragged me here. But she knows my weakness."

"Scavenger hunts?" Harry snorted.

"No, silly," I cackled, unable to stop myself from lightly slapping his arm. He didn't seem to mind as his infectious smile remained on his gorgeous face. "Helping people."

"Ohhh, right," he giggled, lifting his finger to scratch his nose. That was when I noticed the adorable way the tip of his nose wiggled when he tried to talk through his laugh. I found myself itching with the desire to kiss it.

"And here I thought maybe you were here because of me," he remarked.

"You? I didn't even know you were coming," I confessed. "That was just...a pleasant surprise."

I caught a miniscule of a blush on his cheeks before he looked down and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well, I mean...I'm no Bradley Cooper, but..."

Throwing my head back, I laughed heartily. "Oh my God, you're a dork!"

"Heyyyy."

Before I could rebuttal, something caught my eye to the left, so I wandered to a nearby gate where it looked as though the home owners had a garden. When I stepped closer, I saw them, my breath catching.

"Look, Harry!"

I felt his body standing behind mine as his hands wound around the iron bars of the gate. We stared in silence for a few moments, watching the bed of daffodils sway in the breeze.

"Wow, you're good," I finally heard him say.

"Thanks. They're my favorite..." I turned to face him, suddenly realizing how close he was, "...flower."

I could barely see the irises of his green eyes as he looked down at me, his focus on my mouth. I knew it was, because mine was on his. His body was pressed to the front of mine, my back against the gate. If I'd even dared to move, I wouldn't have been able to. His fists remained on either side of me, holding onto the gate as he seemed to lean closer, or perhaps it was wishful thinking. I wondered if he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to, and yet a voice seemed to sing inside my head, telling me to go on and kiss him. Suddenly, his eyelids blinked and his gaze traveled up my face to look me in the eye.

"Um..." he swallowed, "let's...take a picture...of the flowers, I mean."

Releasing his grip on the bars, he stepped back from me. I'd never felt such a cold chill as I cleared my throat and reached for my phone in my bag.

Harry and I continued on our quest after I took the photo, and though we still made small talk, it felt awkward. Or maybe it was just me.

After taking a photo of a lovely lavender wreath on someone's door, I decided to say something that had been on my mind since before the daffodils.

"Harry," I said, in front of the neighbor's hedgerow.

"Yes?" Turning to look at me, he noticed I had stopped. Then walking closer, his mouth turned down with a look of concern on his face. "Something wrong?"

"I just want you to know," I declared sincerely, "that I think you're way better than Bradley Cooper."

His beautiful eyes squinted a mere second before the gorgeous smile grew on his lips. His laugh was delicate, a mix of a chuckle and a giggle, more like a titter...a teehee? A sniggle? Is that even a word? Whatever it was, I adored it, and I was glad I'd caused it.

I dared to step closer to him just as he held a hand out and grabbed mine, pulling me to him.

"You're great, you know that?" he said to me, not really waiting for a response, though I gave one anyway.

"I am?"

With a nod, he brushed my cheek with the back of his hand before tucking my hair behind my ear.

"I'm really glad you came, Kelly," he conceded.

"Me too." And there went the melting all over again, the oozing of his words like maple syrup running down to my toes.

Harry held my hand for the rest of the afternoon, at least until we got back on a main road, where no doubt he could be spotted again. We'd managed to check off several more things from our list, leaving only a couple before calling it a day.

Meeting the rest of the team again at the restaurant, we headed back to the parking lot with our complete list. Donte and Bianca had had a lucky streak, finding all of their items. Brian and Trisha had only missed one.

Trudging as a team to our final destination, I felt fatigued, much like I did after leaving a concert at the end of the evening. I felt a bit melancholy for the ending, but still exhilarated from the experience. And my declaration to Harry hadn't been a lie. I was definitely glad I'd come. Just sad that it was over.

Even more sad that I might not ever see him again.

Turning our lists into Marla, she smiled and thanked us all for coming. Unfortunately, another team had won, managing to check off every single item and leaving an hour earlier. Though a bit of a disappointment, we knew what really mattered.

"Kelly," I heard in a raspy voice behind me as Bianca and I said goodbye to Trish and Brian, wishing them luck on their wedding.

Harry's eyes seemed to glow in the twilight as I turned to face him. Wordlessly, he took my hand, pulling me to the side and around a dimming streetlamp. I had a feeling he wanted to say our goodbyes in private.

"Harry, I had the best time with you today," I blurted first.

"I was gonna say that," he pouted.

"Sorry. I just..."

"Just what?" he asked, holding both of my hands.

"I just didn't wanna hear a but afterwards," I admitted.

"Who says there's a but?"

I stared at him, still waiting for the word, but it never came. I searched his eyes, as much as I could manage in the darkness. But all I saw was sincerity, like he was thinking the same thing I was. Lifting his right hand, he grazed my cheek just like he had before.

Go on, kiss him...go on and kiss him...

The seconds seemed to simultaneously freeze and speed up as I watched him lean closer, his other hand slipping under my jaw. His skin was warm against mine, the cool of his rings adding a tiny chill, enough to make me hum as I closed my eyes, just before our lips met.

Even though just moments ago various things had been going through my mind such as how my t-shirt and shorts were clinging to me and I needed a shower, or how I wondered how much money the charity had raised, or how I wondered if Bianca really was into Donte...none of that was remotely relevant as Harry's pillowy lips caressed mine, fitting with them like perfect puzzle pieces. Nothing else mattered as his hand slipped behind my neck and his fingers tangled in my hair while his mouth opened slightly to invite my tongue. And no other single notion in the world could have even compared to the way his chest rose and fell beneath my hand while my other one found the curls at the base of his neck as he groaned hungrily against my kiss.

"Mmm," I sounded when our mouths threatened to separate, still teasing the other.

"Kelly..." Harry breathed against my lips.

"Yes?"

Standing straight, he looked into my eyes. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

I blinked rapidly, knowing I'd heard him right, but still incredulous. "Like...a date?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice an octave lower. "I really like you and...I'd like to see you again. Spend more time with you, get to know you. Would you like that?"

"More than anything in the world."

The smile I knew to be his but that had come to be just for me that day tickled his lips.

"How's...Friday? Or wait, Saturday..." Harry reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. "I'm so sorry, love, this is so formal. But I have to check my schedule."

"No worries," I giggled.

"Ah, seems I have Friday and Saturday free. Which is better for you?"

"Friday," I answered hastily. "It's sooner."

His handsome face beamed at me as he clipped my chin with his finger and placed another quick kiss on my lips. "It is indeed."

We exchanged numbers, agreeing to text later to work out the details. I giggled when I noticed he put a taco emoji next to my name in his contacts.

"I look forward to it," he grinned before giving me one last kiss, this one soft, slow and sweet. "Goodnight, Kelly. I had a wonderful day."

"Me too. Goodnight, Harry."

I watched him walk toward the building where Marla still stood, stopping once to turn and wave. I blew him a kiss, perhaps a bit cheesy, but I didn't care. I figured he was into cheese. He gave me his dimpled smile before blowing one back, then disappeared inside the office building.

"Well, look at you, Miss I-Didn't-Wanna-Come!"

I scoffed playfully at my roommate as she walked towards me.

"It's amazing what one little Sunday can do, huh?" Bianca added.

Looping my arm through hers, I walked with her to her car.

"Thanks for signing me up, B," I said with a bounce in my step, despite my fatigue. "It wasn't so bad after all."

Darling, it would be when you smiled at me...that way...that Sunday, that summer...

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