#;I have never been dragged anywhere in my life B(

[auspicioustidings]

https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little

Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT

Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)

(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)

Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!

That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!

Tactical Action

Words: 1.1k

CWs: mentions of death

“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”

Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.

“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”

“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”

He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would. 

You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office. 

He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed. 

“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”

That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.

–

Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you. 

She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing. 

So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough. 

You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby. 

The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping. 

Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid. 

“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.

You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby. 

“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”

Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back. 

“When was the last time you fed her?”

“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”

“Did you burp her?”

“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”

While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you? 

“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?” 

“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing. 

Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.

“Marry me then.”

“Sir?”

“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”

“Yes sir.”

[burningcheese-merchant]

Sooo, I have a thought from an ask i saw about yandere beasts towards the ancients...

What if the Beasts became yandere towards YOU instead?

Although, the Ancients have the same feeling too, which may lead to high tensions in the air.

What would YOU in that scenario?

-A Self-Aware/Yandere lover Anon

Wait, me? Me specifically? Merchant? The person answering this ask? That's certainly an interesting thought...

If the Beasts became yanderes towards me, then I would fucking panic lol. I don't condone this kind of behavior irl, it's fun to write fictional crazy people but nobody wants to endure ACTUAL crazy people. Stalkers are sick and dangerous and need to be put away, and it's a damn shame it's not taken seriously by law enforcement anywhere (not until it escalates to violence, anyway, unfortunately)

With that said, let's terrorize Merchant for a little bit

IF THE BEASTS ARE STILL JUST COOKIES:

Step on them immediately, they're like 3 inches tall wait, would that work? They have powers and are crazy strong. What can they actually do against humans? Would stepping on them just break my fucking foot?

Send my dog after them no wait, I don't want them to hurt my dog. I love my dog very much. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to him. I'd never forgive myself if I let him try to eat them and he just got turned into flour or something

Pour milk on them ONE OF THEM IS MADE OF MILK ALREADY GODDAMN IT

Hide the box of cookies I like to get from the store, because they probably wouldn't appreciate the fact that I love to eat cookies (they're just like this 🍪 but still)

Try to trap them in the fridge momentarily, hope they don't destroy my nice fridge

Make a deal where they are allowed to live in and explore my house provided they damage nothing and hurt no one

Give them head scratches (especially Spice, his head looks Very Scratchable)

Give them tiny little kisses if they behave themselves (however, if I give one a kiss, I have to give them ALL kisses, or else the other 4 will retaliate against me out of jealousy)

I will also allow them to sit on my shoulders if they behave themselves and don't try to yank on my hair or my ears or something

Wait, do cookies know what sex is? Are they capable of sexual feelings? If so, how do they deal with them? Do they have the... equipment for that? WHAT IF THEY TRY TO HUMP MY FINGERS OR SOMETHING OH GOD-

Contact federal authorities and hope that they believe me when I say superpowered talking cookies are in my house, so they can come take them away and perhaps experiment on them

Probably never sleep again because there's a batch of little satanic cookies in my house that all want to fuck me for some reason (I'm ugly and a normie, wtf did I do to deserve this 💀)

IF THE BEASTS ARE HUMAN:

immediate death

panic x10000000000

I hc Spice as being at least 6'5''/198cm and 200+/90+ lbs/kg so I'm cooked 7 ways to Sunday just with him

Seriously I'm just a short nerd irl. Assuming they still have their powers, my life is literally over

Do everything in my power to convince them all my loved ones are dead so they don't go harm them out of jealousy (ESPECIALLY my SO, God have mercy, I'll probably have to tell him to go hide in his home country for a while)

Try to barricade myself in a church, hope that the "demons cannot set foot on hallowed ground/in God's house" rule applies to them, beg God to save my sorry ass while they try to break in and drag me back out

Can't call the cops because A) stalking and harassment are not taken seriously by police, B) they won't believe me when I say that 5 supervillains are trying to kidnap and marry me, C) by the time they realize I'm telling the truth, they will already have been hanged/put into a coma/beheaded/turned to flour/cut up into salt cubes

I actually only like men irl so I am in deep trouble with Flour and Sugar especially

Try to flee the country (probably won't work but I'll try anyway and hope they don't get too mad about it), hide out in the Yukon or some bumfuck nowhere village in Russia, I'd rather face a polar bear than these guys

Probably still be forced to let them live in my house in exchange for peace and obedience

...I don't know if tiny head scratches and kisses would cover it this time

Hope that they're all possessive enough to only harass me one at a time, instead of... more than one at a time, because that counts as sharing and yanderes don't really like doing that

Try to pit them against each other constantly. If they're too focused on arguing about who I belong to or whatever, then they can't focus on tormenting me

Would like to try to stab or shoot them but idk if conventional weaponry works on them at all

If I HAD TO pick one to say yes to, it would be Burning Spice. He is sexy af. Then, hopefully, I can weaponize this and get him to defend me from the others

IF THE ANCIENTS LIKED ME TOO, BUT WERE NORMAL:

Yay, sanity. I'll tell them to PLEASE get the Beasts away from me. They can sort out whatever they feel towards me later, we've got a bigger problem on our hands than that

COOKIES: I will keep them safe in my house under the same conditions as the Beasts: behave and do not harm anyone or anything

HUMANS: Look, can I just... send them back? How did any of these guys get here, anyway? Can I please just shove them back through the portal or whatever they used to get here? Even if I wasn't taken, I don't think I'd have the strength or patience to put up with anyone's shit. Can we just be friends? I'd love to be friends. I need a mom friend like Hollyberry in my life

If necessary, I am picking Dark Cacao. Seriously, I love my big, strong men. Merchant is a basic bitch at heart lol

IF THE ANCIENTS WERE YANDERES TOO:

Are you fucking kidding me

Am still picking Cacao, fuck all of you

[kdogreads]

Richie Jerimovich NSFW Alphabet

Co-written with the incredible @foreveraimingtowardsthesky

Thank you so much for collabing on this, my friend! It’s been a longtime coming but here we are 🤪😍

Enjoy this look into our wildest delulu fantasies with our bb Richie. This was a 50/50 project and still took us forever so please APPRECIATE IT 😂❤️

A — Aftercare

There is nothing Richie loves more than smoking a cigarette with you in his arms after he blows your mind. He’s trained to read people and you are no exception. He’ll help you clean up then he’ll cuddle you, or kiss you silly, or light you a joint, or brush your hair for you. Whatever you need this time, he’s on it.

B – Body part (favourite of yours and theirs)

Richie likes - no loves - your mouth. The way your lips close around a cigarette plucked from his hand, the wet heat of it when his fingers press against your tongue, how you open up so readily for him when you’re on your knees, the sharp indent of your teeth in your lower lip when you’re trying to be quiet.. Yeah, he could lose hours dreaming of your mouth, thinking of new ways he can make it his. Spit in it. Gag it. Have you clean him up with your tongue..

C — Cum

Richie can be nasty. He wants to cum on your face, your chest, your ass, literally anywhere he can. It’s his way to mark you as his without leaving hickies or anything, ever the practical thinker. His favorite by far, though, if you’ll let him, is to cum inside you. Chef’s kiss.

D – Dirty secret

Richie has fucked, or tried to fuck, too many short-lived staff at The Beef to mention. But that’s no secret. In fact, there’s really only one thing he hopes never gets out. Luckily for him, she feels the same way. Chalk it up to the effects of grief and alcohol, explain it away however you like, but if word got round? I don’t think her little brother would ever get over it.

E — Experience

Honestly, Richie doesn’t have a ton of experience with different partners, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t treat you R I G H T. He’s only had a couple relationships besides you and Tiff and maybe he brought home a girl from the bar once or twice before you. This man is a very, very fast learner, though. It doesn’t take him long to learn every little thing that drives you wild and he’s more than willing to experiment with what you like (always with permission first).

F – Favourite position

Richie wants to see. He wants to see his cock sinking into you. He wants to see your face when you come. He wants to see the rise and fall of your chest and he wants to see his hands on your body. Richie also wants to bend you over and fuck you from behind. He likes how it makes you whine when he pulls your hips back as he fucks into you.

So he fucks you on your knees in front of the mirror on his bedroom wall, drags his fingers through your gathered slick and rubs the mess across your tight little asshole, his thumb circling and circling and circling before pushing inside. Like this he can watch as he fills you up, and see your fucked-out face as you fall apart.

G — Goofy

Our Richie is a big goofball in every aspect of his life and sex is no exception. He loves being able to laugh with you and tease you while he’s inside you or eating you out. One day he gets it in is mind that you have to call him Mr. Jerimovich as like a demeaning/authoritative thing, but when you actually call him that, he cracks up laughing. Cannot keep a straight face for the life of him. “It sounds like you’re talkin’ to my fuckin’ granddad. Too fuckin’ weird for me, baby, m’sorry.”

If he’s had a rough day, though, and needs to take it out on you, it’s all serious. No jokes, no laughing, no teasing. He just takes when he needs from you — and of course makes sure you have a good time, too.

H – Hair

How well groomed is Richie? Richie is a low-maintenance, one-bottle-in-the-shower guy. He keeps his hair and his beard short, that’s his look. Once upon a time, he got clippers and a beard trimmer for Christmas, so he does this himself, and every so often the rest of him will get the trimmer treatment. He’s not super hairy but he likes how his dick looks bigger after. He’s only human, after all.

He’s clean, but not meticulous. He doesn’t mind things getting a bit.. dirty. And if you’re honest with yourself, you sometimes like him best at the end of a long day. A little sweaty, a little rough around the edges, his skin tasting like salt and cigarette smoke.

I — Intimacy

Richie the cuddle master, am I right? He loves physical affection and just being close to you. If you’re having a slow, sweet love session, he’ll hold your face and tell you the stickiest sweet things you’ve ever heard in your life. “You were made for me, baby. I was made f’you” and “You’re so beautiful, sometimes I can’t believe you’re mine” and “I love you so much my heart fuckin’ hurts.” Loves eye contact, loves holding your hands, loves loving you basically.

Talks you through it. Big time. He’s in his daddy era and he’s desperate for his baby to cum. 🥵

J – Jerk off

In a word. Yes. In the shower most mornings. It’s a Pavlovian response now. Routine. The hot shower spray. The steam. His hand wrapped round his cock.

But he’s seen the way your breath catches. When he’s knelt between your spread legs. When he drags it out just a little longer, his fist working over his cock as though he prefers it to your pretty pussy. How your eyes follow the movement of his hand as he makes you wait, how your tongue darts out against the softness of your lips..

Until finally - - You like watchin, huh? Your face had heated under his scrutiny, but you couldn’t deny it. And since then? Pictures. Videos. Whenever you’re apart for while and sometimes even when you’re not. His hand sliding over his hard dick, slow at first, then faster. You can hear his breathing, all the bitten off sounds he makes - - fuck. Sometimes it’s a piece of your underwear that he’s ruined, the sheets, his shirt. Sometimes come splashes hot against his tense belly. It’s insanely hot. It makes you ache for him. And he knows it.

K — Kinks

This man will shock you with just how freaky he can get. Choking, gun play, knife play, slapping, daddy/sir, tying you up/getting tied up, he’s into it all. Something you’ve always wanted to try? He’s down. It doesn’t always have to be super kinky stuff, though. Sometimes he’s in the mood to make love to you and, when he is, he’s the stickiest sweet lover you’ve ever had.

Once he discovers the the free use concept, it’s his favorite. “Don’t let me stop ya, baby. You keep workin’ on that,” while he proceeds to fuck you into a different universe. 🥵

L – Location

Anywhere. At the restaurant when everyone else has gone home (that reservations desk is his in more ways than anyone else knows). In his car, where there’s just enough room for you to straddle his lap in the driver’s seat. Up against the wall in some dark corner when he just can’t wait. On the couch, forgotten movie in the background. The kitchen counter in the middle of a lazy weekend breakfast. In the shower, the pretty noises you make bouncing off the tiles. In your bed. In his bed.

That’s probably his favourite. His bed. When you’re waiting for him at the end of a long day in his bed. Wearing his shirt. Your perfume on his pillows.

M — Motivation

YOU. Richie is such a romantic at heart and, if you’re his, he wants nothing more than to make you happy any way he can. He loves to hear you whine and moan for him or squirm under his touch. Part of him selfishly loves knowing he can make you feel better than anyone else ever has. He loves making you forget all your worries with his fingers or his mouth or his cock. He gets off just by knowing how satisfied he can make you.

N – No

It’s a short list, but anything you’re not into is at the top of it. You can also add to that anything too elaborate. Role play’s fine just nothing too fuckin weird alright.And he doesn’t need a red room of sex shit, doesn’t need whips and chains when his tie looks so pretty around your wrists, when his belt drags so nicely against your skin.

O — Oral

You mean Richie “could eat pussy for three meals a day” Jerimovich?? He LOVES oral. As much as he loves feeling your lips wrapped around him, he loves feeling you squirm under his tongue even more. He’ll have you pinned down with his arms begging him for a break at any chance he gets. Giving is his favorite, but he loves receiving, too.

He loves when you give him road head. Loves it. Only when it's late at night and you're alone on the back roads, though. He knows just what you're thinking when you reach a hand over coyly and scratch your nails along his thigh. A silly grin spreads across his face and he gives you a subtle nod to encourage you. By the end he's usually pulled over somewhere with both hands in your hair and a plan in place for when you get home...

P – Pace

He can go slow. If that’s what you need. He likes how he can feel everything when he takes his time, but it wears away at his self control and he didn’t have much to begin with. You like to ride him, achingly slowly, stretching his restraint as far as it’ll go before it snaps, before he grips your hips and fucks up into you, or until he flips you over and fucks you through the bed.

Q — Quickie

Are you kidding me? Richie loves quickies. Possibly his favorite thing in the world. Just finished dinner service? He’ll fuck you in the alleyway. Popped in to say hi while you’re running errands? He’ll bend you over Carmy’s desk. Even just going about your day at home he’ll come up behind you in the kitchen and pull you up onto the counter. Any chance he has to get you off he’ll take.

R – Risk

Is Richie a risk taker? Yeah. He gets a kick out of the possibility that the two of you might get caught. Actually no, he gets a kick out of you getting so fucking greedy and needy for him that you’ll let him touch you, let him fuck you, where anyone might see. His hand between your legs under the restaurant table, his mouth on your breasts in the cool evening air, your back against the wall and legs round his waist, your body pressed to the high rise window of the nicest hotel room he could afford. It fuels his possessiveness. You’re his and he wants everyone to know it.

S — Stamina

Richie isn’t as young as he used to be, but he uses what energy he has wisely. In his younger days he could go at it for hours, but nowadays his poor achey back can’t take more than one, maybe two rounds. He gets you off more times than you can count before he even thinks about fucking you, so don’t let his old age scare you.

Just because his body gets tired faster doesn't mean his sex drive has gone down, though, so don't you worry about that.

T – Toys

The first time Richie caught you with your favourite toy, he’d watched from the doorway with a dangerous mix of jealousy and want. You’d pulled the toy from your body when you saw him, but he’d shook his head and something in the look in his eyes made your mouth go dry and your stuttered explanation die in your throat. – - Don’t stop. He’d climbed onto the bed, sat back against the headboard and pulled you to his chest between his spread legs. - - keep going.. s’it feel good? .. feel better than me, huh? - - you’d said no, but he’d slapped your hand from the toy anyway, taking it from you and mimicking the movements he’d watched earlier, but harder, faster, more him. And he’d liked the way you’d surrendered control so easily, the way your head fell back against his shoulder, how your fingers twisted into the fabric of his sweats. And it occurred to him that he could keep this up for hours..

U — Unfair

Richie is a little shit… of course he loves teasing you. He’ll send you dirty texts all day while you’re at work and get you all hot and bothered. Then he’ll edge you for what feels like hours if he feels like it. He always leaves you satisfied after his fun, though, he is a gentleman after all.

When he first discovered what his "harmless" teasing does to you... Oh man. It's like he can't stop now. He'll pull you into the office at work just to whisper dirty things in your ear.

"You look real pretty tonight baby," He leans in to kiss your neck, hands wandering all over your body, "Fuuuck, you want daddy to take care of you, hm? Touch you? Make you scream so everybody knows who you belong to, yeah?" Swoon.

V – Volume

Richie has the dirtiest mouth in all of Chicago. He remembers the first time he’d called you his good fuckin girl. He remembers because you came hard and tight and wet before the words had barely left his mouth. Now he won’t fucking shut up. And you love it like that. But the best thing? There’s this noise he makes when he’s close to losing it. A filthy low groan as everything begins to unravel. It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

W — Wildcard

Richie definitely has a thing for public sex. The thrill of potentially getting caught, having to show off his pretty baby to whoever catches you… He can’t help it if he wants to show you off and make it clear just who belong to.

X – x-ray

What’s going on in those tighty whiteys? He’s not gotten any complaints. Well, no, that’s not quite right. He’s gotten loads of complaints. Just not about his dick. If he was the type of guy to be heading down the gym (although lets face it, he isn’t ) he wouldn’t need to be shy in the locker room, if you catch my meaning. Alright, alright.. it’s big. You happy now?

Y — Yearning

He may be in his 40s but his sex drive is stronger than ever. He always wants you. Richie is just insatiable sometimes. It’s like he can’t believe you are his to take care of and please whenever he wants to and he does.

Z – zzzz

He’s not even stayed awake long enough for you to read the end of this. Sorry. But let’s be fair, he’s a hard working guy and he’s had his fair share of sleepless nights. So you can’t begrudge the fact that he sleeps like an angel (an angel splayed across 75% of the bed, but still..) once you’ve both had your fill. Now roll him over before he starts snoring.

[fanfichubcircuit]

Bullfrog Alphabet NSFW 18+

While I'm working on the Bullfrog x Reader here's my sexy Bullfrog HCs to tide y'all over. Enjoy!

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

Bullfrog is a very sweet person so aftercare can range from laying together talking before sleep to rubbing your sore muscles and cleaning you up. Whatever your comfort level is and whatever you need. You’d probably have to be forward and ask him what he needs. He also has like any juice or Powerade type deal you could want after.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs)

Non-sexually he likes his eyes the best. He thinks they’re nice and bright and loves making them pop with his eyeliner. When it comes to the bedroom his tongue is his favorite. It’s really large and soft so his partners enjoy it, and he loves the excuse to taste who he’s with. If you have a size kink, he can definitely satisfy it.

C = Cum (Anything to do with it)

You could literally cum anywhere on him. The only rules are no eyes, nose, or ear holes that just sucks. He likes feeling the proof that you enjoyed it and secretly he likes being marked by it. He wants to mark you too across your stomach and thighs or your back and ass (He couldn’t reach your face if he wanted to). If he gets to cum inside he wants to hold it in. And if you gently wipe some of yours on his face he’ll melt.

D = Dirty secret(s)

He totally stole your underwear. You two had been hot and heavy the night before so it was covered in you. It’s the only thing he’s never asked you permission for, but he was going on a mission solo and wanted you there, so he figured this was the next best thing. Throughout the whole ordeal of sneaking into that facility he kept shoving his face into your underwear to fill his lungs with you. He’s a little sex freak, but he’s YOUR little sex freak. Besides you two were well established at this point he didn’t think much about it.

The other secret he thinks about waaaay too much in his opinion. He had a dream that you clamped a spiked dog collar on his neck and dragged him around, complimenting him in a demeaning tone. You roughed him up and made him beg for a leash. He woke up in a sweat, confused, and blindingly hard. He’s not new to rough sex or the talk the leash stuff however makes him feel.. guilty. He’s very open minded when it comes to sexuality, but being a hybrid the whole leash thing felt like something he shouldn’t want. He totally revisits it when he touches himself.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Before his guild sect of the brotherhood was wiped out, back when he was first training with all the others in his age group. A bunch of super athletic young adults in close quarters all the time? Yeah. It was as randy as the Olympics. As he got older and moved away from the guild’s main compound he kept in touch with his fellow assassins as fuck buddies until.. well. He also had his fair share of romantic flings and one-night stands. Bullfrog knows his work is dangerous so he’s not ever afraid to shoot his shot. He wants to enjoy life as much as he can and he wants whatever partner he’s with to be as happy as possible as well and with his plethora of experience he is very good at keeping people happy.

F = Favorite position

He loves when you’re on top and pin him down with your hands and your body. But he also loves 69’ing so whatever creative position makes that magic happen he’d be over the moon for. Definitely wants to combine the two. You’re scared of smothering him? “A truly honorable way to go, but I am much too strong for that.”

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? More humorous?)

He loves to keep you happy and isn’t afraid to be silly. Anything embarrassing that happens turns into a shared laugh before jumping back into things. Any anxieties he jokes away with you. He can be serious too, but he sees the value in both. It’s sex, and his ego isn’t fragile, he’s not afraid to laugh. He loves having fun with you.

H = Hang-Ups (Stuff to Work through possibly) Replacing Hair

See the Collar Dream*. Bullfrog is very leveled out, but he’s not the best at focusing on himself. He loves to give, but you will have to remind him to be selfish sometimes and voice what he wants more.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? Romantic wise)

He is very intimate even when he’s silly. Being able to laugh and smile with you is a big part of it for him. But he also loves peppering your skin with kisses, tracing patterns into your skin, and if you’re down with eye contact he’s going to give you loads of soft heated looks up through his eyelashes. And the talk during? He’s either sweetly complimenting you or talking about your future together with such confidence you know no matter what Eden throws at you two you can handle it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He uses his bubbles to relive past times instead of watching porn. He can also suck himself off he’s that flexible.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He has so many. But a few top ones are he loves to be teased and denied. He also likes being rough with each other as long as it’s safe. His absolute favorite is knife play with his hidden blades. The fact that you would trust him so much when he’s so dangerous really gets him going. He doesn’t even need to cut you just having it laying against your neck while he’s in you is enough to make him lose his mind. He would love to cut off your clothes beforehand. He would let you choke him or step on his dick. But if you’re not a fan of rough stuff he doesn’t mind just being soft with you. He is top/bottom sub/dom whatever floats your boat. He loves giving you what you want. Having the power to bring you pleasure. Also wants to watch you masturbate or get dicked down. Not as a cuckold thing, he just wants to watch you in pleasure and doesn’t mind sharing.

L = Location (Where?)

Where do you want to do it? He can probably make it happen. If it’s a crowded room with no hiding spots it might be up in the rafters though. Hope you’re not scared of heights.

M = Motivation (What turns them on?)

Anytime you do something that’s super cute or just reminds him of why he loves you he’s already planning what to do to you when you two have a moment. He just won’t tell you. Unless you like being teased as much as he does. That’s the other part of it if you try to turn him on you’ve already succeeded. Even if you totally fell on your face, he would find it way too cute.

N = No (Hard and Soft boundaries)

Hard Boundaries: No big wounds and nothing dangerous or permanent. He likes things a little rough, but he’s not a maniac about it. He doesn’t like being outright cruel either. He’ll tease, but it never goes that deep emotionally. Soft Boundaries: He doesn’t like roleplaying as other people. He’ll roleplay different scenarios about how y’all first banged etc. all day, but he doesn’t want to ‘be someone else’. If he’s gotta be a pizza delivery guy it’s going to be him as a pizza guy not some dweeb named Paul.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Already stated in B, but his tongue is so big and soft. King of oral. Loves to go down on you and loves to receive. He really likes 69’ing because then the two of you can get lost in each other, but it’s a difficult pose to find with the size difference. Wants to see how much he can fit in you.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

After a high stress mission or long time apart absolutely fast and rough, but if he’s feeling romantic slow and sensual. Either way if you want something and voice it it’s yours. The pace is whatever you want.

Q = Quickie (How do they feel about it?)

Hand stuff and oral absolutely is a go whenever and wherever as long as you two aren’t in mortal danger. Full on penetration though? Nope. Not quickie material. Quickies in his mind are fast and free. Just giggling and touching each other without being super complicated.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

Absolutely. He’s confident bordering on cocky when it comes to his skill set. You want to fuck in a space you’re not supposed to? He can get y’all there and keep you hidden. You want to try a new kink? He’s probably had experience in it and if not he’s a quick learner. He risks his life all the time. Risk in sex is a cake walk.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go?)

More than you.

T = Toys (Do they own any toys?)

Absolutely. He has some for himself, and some to use with a partner. A good assassin isn’t afraid to take advantage of his tools.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He’s very teasing when it comes to his flirting, but pulls back when it comes to the bedroom until you prove you can take it.

V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

His breathes get heavy during, but if you’re doing your job, you could ring some sweet cries out of him. He’s not afraid to get vocal.

W = Wild card (Random Headcanon)

He knows how to pull. He’s not afraid to be cute and sexy and it is a deadly combo. That sensual look he can throw out just by lowering his eyelids? He knows what he’s doing. He’s making you laugh one minute then you look over to him. He’s on his side, head propped up on his fist so his arm pops, looking at you like that. “Would you like to see how flexible assassins have to be?” Yeah, you were screwed from the start.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He does have a cock I mean he’s a hybrid he’s bipedal and has eyebrows he’s not exactly 100% bullfrog. But he doesn’t have balls and it’s a reddish purple instead of pink or straight red. Smaller than the average I would say about 4 inches, but he’s really thick.

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Like I said before you being you turns him on. His drive is very high. But he also likes the anticipation so being ready more often than you and having to wait adds a little something extra for him.

Z = Zzz (How fast do they fall asleep?)

He loves pillow talk so most of the time he’s the last out. Unless it’s really cold outside and he’s snuggled against your warmth. He’s out like a light.

[sh4wty18]

Jake Webber x reader you move in with him and Johnnie and you guys are all besties Jake has like a huge crush on you and always is just following you around like a puppy

i love this idea <3

crush.

pairing: jake webber x reader

summary: same as the request with a twist! (reader has a crush too!)

cw: fluff, language, oblivious!jake x oblivious!reader

word count: 1.4k + edited

---

“I think that’s the last of it!” you shout up the stairs to Jake and Johnnie as you drag your final box of belongings through the front door. You were finally moving in with them after nearly a year of friendship. You’d all hung out so often, had so many sleepovers, and filmed so many videos that the three of you came to the conclusion that it’d be easier for you to just move in. 

“Yay!” you hear a voice shout down in response, a voice that could only belong to Jake. He was so excited for you to move in, it was all he’d been talking about since you pitched the idea to them a month ago. Of course, Johnnie was excited too, but Jake was the one who had set up a group countdown, made a shared Google Calendar, and began preemptively decorating your bedroom with things he knew you liked. You’d told him he didn’t have to do all that, but he insisted. 

Jake runs down the steps, grinning wide, and Johnnie follows behind, with a softer smile. Jake wraps you in his arms, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around, “My best friend is finally moving in!!” 

“Hey, I thought I was your best friend,” Johnnie teases, pouting.

“You’re both my best friends,” Jake replies, pulling Johnnie in too so you’re all in a smooshed group hug. 

“I love you guys so much,” you say, and it’s true. Sure, you’d only been friends with them for a year, but you have genuinely never felt more connected to two people. When you met for the first time at a random bar in LA, you three hit it off. It only took one night and you were instantly attached at the hip. Soon you were filming with them, their fans became your fans (which you’d never had before), and life was good. You couldn’t recall two other people you’d ever felt such an unbreakable bond with, such pure unbridled love for, who you would do anything for. And you knew they both felt the same. 

Platonic love is a strange thing. You can want all of somebody, all their flaws, all their likes and dislikes, everything, without ever wanting more than that. Knowing them is enough. That’s how it started with you three. Unconstrained platonic love for one another that was incredibly evident to everyone who interacted with you. 

One day somewhere along the line, though, things had changed for you. Towards one of them, at least. Johnnie had always been like your brother, and that’s how it would stay. You loved him more than most people on the planet, but purely platonically. 

Jake… Jake was different. You had never intended for it to happen. You swore your relationship was strictly platonic. But a few months ago, you realized that you never got nauseous when Johnnie hugged you, whispered a joke in your ear when a stranger did something funny in public, or cuddled with you on the couch. When Jake did those things, you felt more than a little nervous. 

These feelings were what prolonged your moving in. Did you really want to risk living with someone you had feelings for? Did you really want to risk losing him as your best friend? In the end, you decided you could separate your romantic and platonic feelings for him, right? Because having him in your life, having him as your best friend, was more important than a silly crush.

Now, you were sandwiched between your two best friends, freshly moved in to live with them for the next however-many months, or years, and it’s not that you weren’t excited. You definitely were. You were just a little scared too. 

Jake piped up, “I love you more,” and kissed your forehead. You felt your heart skip a beat. You and Jake had been giving each other little kisses for months. Cheeks, forehead, hands… anywhere but your lips, really. Johnnie wasn’t one for that level of physical affection, so it stays between you and Jake. It’s your thing. Only recently, it’s been harder and harder to act like you’re not on the verge of blushing every time he does it. Jake separates himself from you and Johnnie, “Can I help you unpack, y/n?” he asks.

“Ugh, Jake, you’re so good to me,” you sigh, dramatically placing a hand on your heart. He follows you upstairs, carrying the last of your boxes for you as you enter your new bedroom for the first time. You let out a gasp as you cross the threshold, “Jake… this is so fucking cool.” String lights draped across the back wall, posters from all your favorite artists lined the wall next to your bed, and your desk was fully set up with a new PC and rolling office chair. 

“Yeah… I may have gone a little overboard,” he chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. 

“You really didn’t have to do all this! Did you… buy me a new computer?” you stare at him, shocked.

“Maybe?” he giggles, “I wanted to give you a housewarming gift!”

“Jake, that must’ve been so expensive! Let me know how much it was and I can pay you back!” 

“No, y/n! I wanted to, I promise,” he steps towards you and pulls you into another tight hug, your bodies swaying together. He looks down at you and smiles, that toothy grin he knows you love. You kiss his nose, smiling up at him in return, “You’re actually the best person I’ve ever met.” you say.

“No, you,” Jake counters, cheeks going red. Was he… flustered? After a few more seconds of prolonged eye contact, he clears his throat and pulls away from you, “Okay! Let’s get this room set the fuck up!!” he chants, attempting to hype you up for the hours of unpacking ahead. You never expected either of your best friends to help you unpack, but of course Jake offered. He was just like that. He would do whatever it took to make your life easier. Johnnie had to leave to shoot a music video, so he couldn’t help anyway, but you weren’t upset about getting a little alone time with Jake.

You moved out into the hallway, where the majority of your boxes sat, and Jake followed close behind you. “Hmm… I think I wanna start with these,” you say, motioning toward a stack of boxes a few feet in front of you. Jake quickly moves to pick them up, well, he tries to pick them up, he only manages to carry two at a time. He carries them into your bedroom and places them on the ground, careful not to break anything fragile inside. 

You laugh, “You don’t have to carry everything in for me, you know.”

“But I want to,” he gazes at you, giving you his best pout. “I don’t want my girl to have to lift a finger,” he points at you, grinning. 

You feel your cheeks flush, his girl. You avert your eyes and smile, “Okay then, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

He gazes at you, “Whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want.” 

He walks up to you and holds your face in both hands, planting a kiss on your forehead, then your nose, and then your mouth. It was just a peck, but your heart still leaps out of your chest, and your stomach tied in knots. 

You look up at him, surprised, and he just smiles down at you, blushing, and lets out a breathy laugh. “Let’s get to work!” 

—

Three hours later

—

You’re finally finished unpacking, Jake admittedly did most of it, not at your request, but at his insistence. He follows you downstairs and into the kitchen.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, “I’m not sure if we have anything for a full meal, but I can buy us something. What’re you feeling, love?”

Love? He’d never called you love before, you note. “You don’t have to buy me anything, Jake. I can pay for myself,” you smile.

“You’re finally moved in, I wanna spoil you! Trust me, if I didn’t want to spend my money on you, I wouldn’t have offered,” he slings an arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head. You turn your head to meet his gaze, noses so close they’re almost touching. He blushes again. 

If his feelings for you are mutual… living with your two best friends just got a whole lot more interesting.

---

this was so fun to write i love writing fluff!

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

[lamoobsessions]

Scorched Dissonance (Chapter 1)

Newt x (Fem)Reader

Synopsis: "Y/N. Group B. Subject B3. 'The Abandoned'." is left behind with Aris in the complex, their supposed "rescuers", put them in. Later, they find a group in a situation similar to their own, Group A. Together they must undergo "Phase Two" of the trials. Through it all, Y/N finds herself getting increasingly closer to a certain boy in Group A, Newt. Devotion rises and tension follows. With the outside world in shambles, can one still find warmth?

Word Count: 6k

Important Authors Note: Since I've finally finished this long ass fanfic on AO3, I'm going to post the first chapter here and idk maybe bring in some readers looking for something new :)

So if you enjoy, my AO3 is @lamolaine

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The thing about being trapped in a labyrinth for all your known life, is that you never truly leave. You can run away from those walls and never turn back, but mentally you're still there. Trapped and always dwelling over the next escape route.

It's been almost 24 hours since we escaped the maze, though it feels like ages ago. Not one moment passes where I don't think of those we lost. Rachel, Elise, Caroline, too many in such little time. The knot in my chest hasn't left since we escaped that maze. Thinking about that place and the people that were in it, makes every second feel like an eternity. Was there anything I could've done to prevent the casualties? What waits in store for us now since we escaped? So far, life outside the maze still feels like a big puzzle. One we have to solve in order to prosper.

I have these thoughts while I lay on my top bunk staring at the tiled ceiling. Sleep didn't visit me for long last night. I found it difficult to silence my mind for even one second. I can't be left with my own thoughts any longer, it only drags me further into a spiral.

Finally, I sit up, hoping to find another in a similar situation to my own- awake and unable to fall back asleep- but my heart sinks as I look around the bunk room. No one is in their bunk, in fact, there is no other in the room with me. Empty Beds encompany the bunk room, left un-tightly.

I quickly jump down from my bunk, panic begins to seep into my chest. Where could they have gone? Last I checked we were all locked in the bunkroom last night. How did I not hear all of them leave?

I could be overreacting, maybe they were directed to breakfast and wanted me to sleep in. I rush to the door, and though I anticipate it being locked, it opens swiftly. As I open the door I am met with more emptiness and silence. Not a single person in sight. I look around the empty complex, there is nothing where the cafeteria tables used to sit. All furniture was stripped from the common room. I rush down the halls, quickly checking all the doors in the complex. Door after door, locked. But there is one door I have yet to check and I can't believe I didn't think of checking it first.

I frantically head to Aris's room. Since he was the only boy in the group, the people who rescued us felt it was best he got his own room.

To my absolute shock, his door was unlocked. I swing it open, making it slam straight into the wall. Aris shoots up at the noise. His face kniited with confusion. Selfish as it is, a wave of relief overcomes me as I realize I'm not completely alone in this predicament.

"Aris!" I exclaim with a breath of relief, as I rush to his bed. His room mirrors the girls' bunk room exactly. About 14 bunk beds encompass the room and a single desk accompanies each bunk set. He lies on the bottom bunk directly across the door.

"Y/N?" He says, confusion laced in his tone. I stand at the foot of his bed, hands resting on the footboard.

"Everyone is gone. I can't find them anywhere. I searched every room I could and checked every door. I don't know what to do or how to get out. Almost every room is locked. We don't-" I babble frantically.

"Wait, slow down... I'm not even fully awake yet." he mumbles while rubbing his eyes, "What's happening?"

Impatiently I continue, "Aris, everyone is gone. I searched all I could of the building and no one else was there... We've been left behind." I explain. He sits for a moment, staring into my eyes, I assume processing what I told him.

He gets up, breaking eye contact, without saying a word. "What are you doing?" I question, eyeing him with discomposure.

"I'm going to see for myself." He states as he heads for the door, but stops and turns to look at me, "Not that I don't believe you or anything but you know... this is a weird wake-up call". I slightly roll my eyes at his statement, not out of annoyance but of restlessness. He puts his hand on the door knob and tries to open it but it doesn't budge. He tries again more aggressively, using his whole body this time. "The hell?" he mumbles. He turns around, meeting me with a questioning gaze.

"Let me try." I state, moving in front of him to try for myself. I twist the knob and the door doesn't budge. I begin to slam my body into it with frustration. Over and over but its no use. I give up and put my hands on my hips, "well shit..." I breathe, it's taking everything in me to not completely freak out.

"There has to be another way out. I'll look for vents or maybe find a way to break the steel bars on the windows," Aris says while he quickly makes his way around the room. I stand and watch Aris scatter around the room.

How did the door lock? If it was automatic I shouldn't have been able to get inside the room in the first place. Someone had to have locked it from the outside, but who? And how did I not see them? I join Aris on the search for another exit.

﹏

Nothing has been making sense. Aris and I searched the room for what must have been hours. Re-checking areas, making sure we didn't miss anything. We found absolutely nothing.

Now Aris paces the center of the room arms crossed, while I sit on the top bunk of his bed with my feet dangling over the edge. I've decided there is nothing to make sense of. Eventually, one of three things will happen. One, the people who rescued us will realize we did not come along and come back to us. Two, WCKD finds our location and takes us back. Or three, Aris and I die of starvation. The longer I sit here, outcome number three seems to be the most likely, since we don't have any food in the whole complex. We do have water, fortunately, thanks to the bathroom that is connected to the bunkrooms.

I look out the window and estimate its around late afternoon. We've been stuck in this dull bunkroom for only a afternoon and I already feel myself losing my mind. In the maze it was different. We were trapped but at least we had tasks to keep our minds distracted, in here we have nothing but each other and if I'm being honest Aris and I were never that close. He came up in the maze only 3 days before we escaped, so we didn't really get a chance to bond. At least not in the way he and Rachel did. They had an instant connection, I still don't quite understand, considering the little time they had together. But I can relate to his loss.

Caroline was my closest companion in the maze. We came up in the box at the same time as the first group of girls. We gravitated toward each other. Eventually becoming best friends. She was sweet, kind, caring, and the most selfless person I believe I've ever known. Although her selflessness was the exact thing that lead her to her demise. And I can't bare it.

"Hey Aris," I start, Instantly bringing him out of his pacing. "I'm sorry about Rachel." My sudden apology seems to catch him off guard, but he quickly recovers and sits down on his bed underneath the one I currently sit on.

"Thanks." He pauses, and for a moment I think he doesn't want to speak further, til he continues, "You don't have to apologize, its not your fault but my own."

I frown at his words, "Don't say that, you know she wouldn't want you to think that." I pause unsure of what to say, I never felt I was the best with words. "If it weren't for her who knows when we would have escaped that maze--"

"Yeah but that's the thing..." Aris interrupted, "she didn't have to die, it was me who was in front of that gun, I was supposed to-" He chokes on his words and begins to break down. I jump down from my bunk and sit down next to him, squeezing his shoulder.

"That's not true, no one was supposed to die." I consult, "Even if it were true, here you are now. What happened, happened. She chose to make that sacrifice and now its up to you to choose what to make of that." We sit there for a moment, Aris slows his breathing a bit, taking in what I said. I decided I should probably leave him be and get some sleep. I stand and start to head to my bunk until Aris speaks.

"I'm sorry about Caroline, I know you and her were close", I freeze at the thought of her for a moment, till I muster a soft 'thank you' and head up to my bed. I feel relieved that Aris doesn't try to consult further. I don't think I'd be able to talk about her. Her smile, her laugh, her voice. I hope that one day I will be able to think of these details with fondness and gratuity rather than grief.

﹏

I wake to the sound of Aris shuffling in his bed. Sleep came surprisingly easy last night.

I find myself becoming somewhat motivated to take a shower, since I don't have much else to do. I get down from my bed and check the door once more and twist the knob... still locked. As I turn around, I notice Aris is awake. He looks at me and shrugs his shoulders, insinuating he was thinking the same thing I was thinking. It was worth a shot.

"I'm getting in the shower, do you have any spare clothing in here?" I ask, he yawns groggily, seemingly still waking himself up.

"Yeah uh- check the drawers in the corner over there" He points to the east corner of the room. I scour through the drawer and pick out a pair of grey sweatpants and a white long sleeve.

I take my time in the shower, cherishing the feeling of the hot water traveling down my back. A feeling I felt deprived of in the maze. I've showered a total of 3 times since arriving here and it's almost been 2 days. I still feel like I haven't scrubbed the feeling of the glade off my body. It lingers on my skin and I fear it will always be there– part of me.

I dress myself in my sweats and my sports bra. While I dry my hair, I believe to hear conversation outside the bathroom. Is Aris talking to himself? But the voices are different. They can't be coming from one person. They range in distance.

I try to listen more closely, still standing in front of the mirror. I can barely make out what is being said but the voices get closer.

"Who is in there?" a voice asks accusingly.

"Hey man I wouldn't open that door if I were you" I hear, what I believe to be Aris's voice, point out.

"Why? You hiding something?" the voice asks, suddenly the bathroom door swings open. An Asian boy around my age makes eye contact with me, his eyes widen and he closes the door in a flash. I feel myself too stunned to move. Who the hell was that? Snapping myself out of my thoughts I hear others question what was behind the door.

"It's... a girl." The boy announces. I hear the room burst into conversation. I immediately put on my shirt and open the door. I'm immediately hit with a strong overt smell, a smell that wasn't present before my shower. I can't help but cringe as I hit the open air.

The smell becomes the least of my worries as I look around the room.

Conversation stops and a group of boys are gathered in Aris and I's room. They all look at me with a mix of confusion and awe, like they haven't ever seen a girl before. I set my gaze on Aris who still sits on his bed, seemingly still shocked by the whole situation.

I look back at the group of boys once again, "Who the hell are you guys?" I ask with clear confusion in my tone. My eyes catch a certain blonde, who stares back in curiosity. A wave of familiarity hits me, like a slap in the face.

"We were just asking your buddy here the same thing." I shift my gaze to a boy with brown hair and blue eyes, Whose tone was overcome with frustration.

I look to Aris, who rolls his eyes keeping eye contact with the brown hair kid.

"Look man," Aris says "I'm not telling you who we are until you tell us who you all are."

The blonde with deep brown eyes speaks up, a thick accent lacing his words. "Don't bloody mess around. There are lot more of us than there are of you, so tell us who you both are."

Aris looks like he is about to snap. Just before he erupts I cut him off, "I'm Y/N," I greet and motion to my bunkmate, " that's Aris."

Aris speaks up again, "Anything else you wanna know?" He says in a mocking tone. The brown hair kid looks as if he is about to punch Aris, but he continues to question.

"How did you get here? And what happened to the girl that slept here last night?" Aris and I share a questioning look with each other. Who even are these guys? And What is this guy on about? What girl? He can't possibly mean me.

"What girl? I'm the only girl who slept here last night and its been that way for the past 24 hours" I announce.

The brown hair kid points to the door out into the common area. "There's a sign right out there that says this is her room. Teresa...Agnes. No mention of two shanks named Y/N and Aris."

Something in Aris switches, he seems to have finally ground himself a bit, his expression becoming more neutral. "Look man, I don't know what you're talking about. They put us in here 2 days ago, we slept in this bunk"- he gestures to the bunk he sits on– "I woke up about 15 minutes ago and have never heard the name Teresa Agnes in my life."

The group looks to me as if expecting me to confirm Aris's explanation, I do so with a nod. The brown-haired kid and the blonde, share a look. Like they are having a silent conversation.

"So who put you both in here the other night?" the blonde asks.

"We don't really know. A bunch of people with guns rescued us and put us here." I try to explain, leaving out the rest of the group. I didn't feel like explaining that whole situation when I didn't quite understand it myself.

"Rescued you from what?" the brown hair kid asks.

I answer bluntly, "The maze."

The group looks at us in disbelief. Some with their mouths agape, I certainly don't feel like explaining the whole maze concept to them.

"We have a lot to talk about." the brown hair kid says.

"What do you mean?" Aris looks at him in confusion, I mirror his expression.

"The Maze, The Grievers, WICKED, you name it." He responds.

Now it was Aris and I turn to have our mouths agape. "You're lying," Aris accuses, his voice dropped to a whisper, his face now pale.

The blonde speaks up, "Thomas is right, We need to talk. Sounds like we've come from similar places."

"You all came from a maze too? When did you escape?" I ask my curiosity getting the best of me. They could very well be lying to gain our trust, but something tells me they are telling the truth. It would make sense, they all seem to be around our age, which seems to be WICKED's target subject group.

"We escaped yesterday, brought here last night," Thomas, as the blonde called him, explains. Then he turns to his group, "Before we explain all that, we need to find Teresa. She must be in some other room."

"Isn't one." I remark.

Thomas looks back at me in question, "What do you mean?"

"Ran this whole complex the other day. There's that big common area,"-- I gesture outside the door– "this room, your dorm room, and some seriously locked up doors that have been chained up by our rescuers" I emphasize my sarcasm on rescuers, given that they are responsible for trapping us here.

Thomas furrows his brows, disappointed at my statement. I feel myself empathize with him a bit, "Although you could check again, It's been a bit since Aris and I left this room. We've been locked up in here since yesterday morning, so who knows maybe something has opened up." I mention, in hopes that maybe it will lift his spirits. But to no avail, he looks more disappointed and confused.

"But what about last night? Where'd the food come from? Did anyone notice other rooms? A kitchen, anything?" Thomas looks around looking for an answer but everyone stays silent, knowing the answer. Thomas's mention of food makes me notice the pit in my stomach. How come they ate last night and Aris and I didn't hear a thing? When was the last time I ate?

"Maybe there's a hidden door?" The Asian kid proclaims, "We can run the building again and look, but we need to do one thing at a time. We need to–"

"No!" Thomas interrupts "We have all day to talk to those two shanks, we need to find Teresa now! What if she's in trouble?" Thomas gives the room a look of disappointment and storms out the room in search of the girl named Teresa.

The group watches Thomas leave then their gazes shift to Aris and me.

"Sorry about him, he and Teresa were close. He's just... a little stressed." the blonde explains.

"A little..." Aris mumbles as I elbow him.

"It 's fine, I get it." I say as I turn to the blonde, "Now that we introduced ourselves, mind if you tell us who you all are?"

"Right, sorry. I'm Newt" he gestures to his other friends insinuating for them to introduce themselves.

"Minho. And uh- sorry about the bathroom thing," he awkwardly adds.

I laugh at his sudden change in demeanor, "It's fine, really. Just maybe knock next time." He lets out an abash laugh.

The others continue to introduce themselves and I try my best to memorize all their names, though I was never good with names. It took me all the 3 years we were in the maze to remember everyone's name, including the greenies.

﹏

There wasn't much room for everyone to sit with all the bunk beds scattered. So we all moved the beds against the wall, making the room more spacious and less crowded. Once everyone was settled in their spots, Thomas had finally come back from his hiatus. He entered the room, a look of obvious defeat on his face.

Minho pats a spot on the floor next to him, "They tried to tell ya, dude. Have a seat and let's talk." Without responding Thomas takes a seat.

"All right, let's get started on the bloody storytellin' so we can get to the real problem --finding something to eat." Newt says.

"Amen." I agree, holding my abdomen. The pit in my stomach has turned into an aching knot.

"Good that." Minho says turning to me and Aris, "Now you two. Talk. Tell us everything."

Aris shakes his head, "No way. You guys go first." They stare daggers at each other, my eyes shift from Minho's to Aris's, watching the tension grow.

"Yeah?" Minho responds sharply, "How about we all just take turns beating the living klunk out of your shuck face? Then we'll ask you to talk again."

"Minho," Newt says sternly. "There's no reason–"

Minho Interrupts, "Please, for all we know these two shanks could be with the creators. Somebody with WICKED, here to spy on us. They could have killed those people out there, they are–"

"Wait-wait, slow down. What people?" I ask. How could they not mention this?

"Don't be like that! You've had to have known about those people out there. I mean do you not smell them?" Minho emphasizes loudly.

That's where that smell is coming from...

"Yes I have noticed that smell," I exasperate, "I first noticed it went I walked out of that bathroom." I point to the bathroom door, "So if I'm being honest I genuinely thought that smell... came in with all of you." I hold back a smile and notice Minho growing with frustration.

Newt holds back a laugh but quickly composes himself with a cough, "Minho...relax, I doubt those two are capable of killing those people out there"

"Thank you!" Aris says

"But," Newt cuts Aris off, "He's got a point. Just tell us what you meant about coming from the buggin' maze. That's where we escaped from, and we obviously haven't met you."

Aris rolls his eyes in defeat. I decided I should probably be the one to talk about our maze. "I think its safe to say we came from two separate mazes. It wouldn't surprise me if WCKD had made more than one maze. I mean those greedy little bastards can't get enough of torturing kids." I pause for confirmation on my theory. I hear murmurs of agreement and take it as a sign to continue. "So, I was thrown in this gigantic maze made of huge stone walls– but before that, my memory was erased. I couldn't remember anything about my life before. I just knew my name." I look to Aris to see if he wants to add anything, and he intervenes for me.

"It was a Glade full of girls, making me the only boy. We escaped a few days ago with a group and were placed here. Until yesterday morning when the group vanished leaving me and Y/N here stranded." Aris explains as I nod in support. "What's this stuff about you being in a maze too?" He adds.

"It's the same shucking experiment" Minho murmurs, bewildered.

"It was the same for us, except we were a glade full of boys and one girl." Newt adds.

"Did things start going haywire when the girl showed up? And the person before the girl?" I ask.

"Yes! Things started to change fast" Newt says.

I notice Thomas turns to Aris. Finally joining the conversation. "Did they call you the trigger"? He questions Aris. Aris quickly nodded with wide eyes. "And could you..." Thomas began but hesitated for a moment, "Could you speak to one of those girls inside your mind? You know, like telepathically?" Aris's eyes widen further at Thomas's words, his skin impossibly turns another shade paler. They take a moment both staring at each other, seconds pass. Newt, Minho, and I all share a look of confusion and discomfort.

"What is going on?" Newt asks, now looking between the two of them. "Why're you guys looking at each other like you just fell in love?"

I laugh at his remark, "Seriously, you both look like you're about to share a kiss." I add.

The rest of the group and I share a laugh while Aris and Thomas come back to reality.

"He can do it too." Thomas answers.

"Do what?" one of the group members asked. I think I recall him calling himself Frypan.

"What do you think? He's a freak like Thomas, they can talk in each other's heads." Minho pronounces.

"Serious?" Newt asks glaring at Thomas, who shakes his head in confirmation, dumbfounded he found someone with a similar ability. "Can you?" Newt questions, turning to me.

"Nope." I answer blatantly. I knew Aris and Rachel used to share the same ability, so if Thomas's maze was just like ours maybe he shared that ability with someone as well. Maybe that's who Teresa is.

"Doesn't matter who can do it and who can't. Why did your group leave you behind? You traitors or something?" Minho probes.

"We don't really know why, they just kind of disappeared." I answer, and the group eyes me in disbelief. "Look, I know it's hard to believe but it's true. Why would we lie about being abandoned by our group? It embarrassing to admit if anything."

The group stays silent. Some seem to be contemplating our honesty while others attempt to put pieces together.

Aris pips up, "Listen, we are just as confused as all of you. We got separated, then you sticks showed up."

"Sticks?" Minho smirks.

"Never mind, it's not important. Just stupid slang they used in our maze." Aris rolls his eyes. The boys share a slight smile with one another. Realizing both our mazes created their own vocabulary. Shank. A word I hope isn't too derogatory, as they have been calling us this since they first arrived.

Suddenly Frypan gestures to Aris, "What's that on your neck, man?"

I look to Aris and to my surprise there seems to be some sort of lettering on his skin, peaking out of his t-shirt.

"What?" Aris responds, his eyes widening. "Is it a bug?" He frantically grabs his t-shirt and attempts to look at his neck.

I let out a small chuckle, "No you stick," I say moving his t-shirt aside without thinking. Then I see what it is, my heart skips a beat. "It's...it's a tattoo?" I mutter.

"What? When- How did that even get there?" He asks. I stare at it, he definitely didn't have that before. Someone would have noticed.

"What does it say?" Minho questions

I begin to read off the tattoo, "Property of WICKED. Group B. Subject B1... The Partner."

Aris whips his head around, "Wha- what does that even mean?" He mutters.

"Are you really insinuating that tattoo just appeared out of the blue? Overnight? Without you knowing..." Thomas challenges.

"I swear man I had no idea that was there!" Aris counters fearfully, his hands in the air and eyes darting around the room.

"Aris...no offense but you have a crazy low pain tolerance." I say, recalling his time in the maze. In the little time he was there he would often visit me at the HealTec hut complaining about some innocuous splinter or ingrown toenail he got from the running shoes. I continue, "How would you not notice a whole tattoo being plastered on your neck and back?" Aris looks at me, giving me a look that so clearly asks, 'Whose side are you on?' I shrug in indifference.

"Speak for yourself." Minho pipes up, "I think you have one too." He points to my neck.

I freeze. There is no way I wouldn't notice, "I'm sorry?" I mutter.

Aris turns me around so my back faces him. "Holy shit...he's right."

"What? What does it say?" I question holding up the back of my t-shirt.

I can feel Aris grow nervous, making me feel even more unsettled. It can't be that bad.

Newt leans in and reads it aloud for him, "Property of WICKED. Group B. Subject B3. The Abandoned."

"Oh well... that's sweet of them." I say sarcastically, pulling my shirt back down. "Aris, you were left behind too, how come yours says 'The partner'?" I turn to face him. The room has grown into slight whispers.

"How am I supposed to know?" Aris responds, clearly taken aback by the current situation.

"Maybe its referring to something else." Minho suggests impatiently, "But you two can't possibly think we are going to believe you two just miraculously woke up with tattoos."

Aris and I look at each other, an explanation escaping us both. Not quite sure how to get these guys to believe us. Until I look over to Minho, my eyes catching a certain ink mark peaking out from his shirt neckline. One similar to Aris and I's.

"Um...you have a-uh" I gesture to my own neck in reference to his.

"What? You run out of excuses?" Minho continues to question.

Newt looks to Minho, his eyes widen as they land on the ink stain, "No you shank! She is referring to your neck! You have a tattoo too!" He lifts his friends' shirt.

"What?" Minho questions, looking over his neck at Newt. "Do we all have shucking tattoos?"

With Minho's comment, the room bursts with conversation. Each boy looks to their buddy and reads out their tattoos.

Newt reads out Minho's, "Property of WICKED. Group A, Subject A7. The Leader."

"What? Dude." Minho quickly turns to Thomas, "You're kiddin' me, man." Thomas shrugs his shoulders and turns around silently asking Minho to read his off. I almost want to laugh at the whole situation. One moment they are accusing us of lying and the next the whole group is scattering to find out what their own tattoos read.

Newt turns to me, "You mind?" he questions, gesturing to his tattoo. I hesitate, slightly caught off guard.

"Uh- Not at all." I reply, lifting the side of his shirt. "You're subject A5 and they called you the Glue." I release his shirt as he turns to look at me.

"The Glue?" he inquires furrowing his brows.

I shrug, "Way better than 'The Abandoned'." I joke, trying to make light of the situation.

He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh, "I suppose so." I suddenly overhear Thomas pestering Minho about his tattoo.

"What? What does it say?" Thomas catechizes, but Minho just stares. Presumably unable to speak. Thomas turns his head towards the group, "Can someone tell me what this shucking says?"

Aris scoots over to look, his face immediately mimicking Minho's expression. "Uh... It-" he clears his throat, "It says... Property of WICKED. Group A, Subject A2... To be killed by Group B." He looks anxiously over at Thomas who is staring straight ahead as if he couldn't decide if he should be fearful or confused by his title.

Before anyone could say anything, an alarm sounded, blasting through the entire complex. A familiar alarm, I've heard it before. The recognition flashes in my mind just long enough for me to grasp where I've heard it. The newbie alarm, although this time it's more distinct and prominent. I assume it's due to the more confined space the alarm sound is traveling through.

Everyone seems to be thinking the same thing. Their faces crossed with familiarity, cupping their ears for protection.

Newt is the first to shout over the noise, "It's the bloody Greenie alarm!"

"I know!" hollers Thomas, "Why's it ringing?"

The others shrug. Frypan heads for the door but Thomas pushes himself infront of him. "Wait!" he intergects.

"What?"

"I don't know," Thomas replies, "It's an alarm. Maybe something really bad is happening!"

Frypan looks at him quizzically, "Uh yeah, and maybe we need to get out of here!" Without waiting for a reply Frypan pushes past Thomas and tries for the door. The door doesn't budge. He puts his weight into it, shoulder first. No dice.

Thomas is next to try. Body square with the knob ,he aggressively fumbles with it. Until he stops and turns to face the room...knob in hand.

"Fantastic," I mutter under my breath, though not loud enough to be heard over the alarm.

"You broke the Shuck handle!" Minho barks. Thomas slaps the door with the palm of his hand out of frustration. For a moment everyone is still, waiting for the alarm to stop.

As if the group's prayers were answered, the alarm stops. And silence has its own sound once again.

Newt breaks the silence, "Don't tell me we are going to get bloody greenies in this place."

"Where is the box in this shuck place?" Minho mutters sarcastically.

The door creaks open and everyone's heads turn toward the sound. The common room is pitch black, and the lights outside are turned off.

I turn to Aris, "Looks like we aren't grounded in our rooms anymore." I smirk. He chuckles in slight relief. I look at the group A boys and none of them have moved.

"You first." Minho gestures to Frypan.

"No way dude, what if somethings out there."

I let out a deep breath and shuffled my way through the crowd of boys, "Bicker all you want, I'm out." I say as I exit the room into the dark common area. "You guys know where the light switch is?" I examine, skimming my hands gently across the wall.

"Should be to your left!" Minho answers following behind me.

"Oh, I feel it!" I switch the lights on. The sudden brightness sends my eyes into fluorescent shock.

"Why did they even turn the lights off in the first place? Or even better, who turned them off?" Thomas sweats.

Minho looks back at Thomas, a mocking smirk painted on his face. "Why do you even bother asking questions, dude? Nothing has ever made sense."

"And it probably never will," Newt adds with a sigh, as he enters the newly lit room with his hands on his hips.

I look around the common room. it's probably been 24 hours since I've left that bunk room, but I can't help but reminisce about the first time I had entered the common area. The day my group escaped the maze. Most were skeptical about our rescue but grateful for the food and showers nonetheless. It was the first smile I had seen on my friends' faces in a while.

I look at the others, they all seem to be taken back. Something obviously bothers all of them.

Before I can question, Thomas whispers, "Impossible." He walks further into the common room near the east hall. "It's impossible, not enough time has passed for someone to get the bodies out. And no way people came into this buggin' room, we would have heard them!"

I remember the bodies Minho mentioned before. I notice the putrid smell that once encompassed the air is gone. Completely. No trace that there were ever bodies in the room in the first place. I stay silent. Not sure how to respond to the circumstances. I could question them further. Ask if they are sure they saw what they described. But bodies or no bodies, there is nothing in this room now. The questions I have wouldn't get us anywhere.

Minho inquires further. "You're right. We were in that bunkroom for what? Twenty minutes? No way anyone could have moved all those bodies that quickly. Plus, this place is chained up from the inside."

"Not to mention get rid of the smell."Thomas builds.

"Well, you shanks are right smart." Frypan says through a huff. "But take a look around. They're gone. So whatever you think, somehow they got rid of them."

Other group members have migrated to their own bunkroom. A boy whose name I don't recall comes out of the other room, "The beds are made and the drawers are stocked with fresh clothes and new shoes!" He cheers and enters back into the room.

"New watches as well!" Another boy shouts from the room.

I notice for the first time that there aren't that many boys in the group. They must have lost a lot of people in their maze. If they started out with 50 boys in their maze as mine did girls, then they must have lost a lot of people. For this, I can only sympathize further with the group. We are only kids, after all, we shouldn't be experiencing such tremendous loss at our age.

My stomach growls, pulling me out of my thoughts. I realize I haven't eaten since the night we first arrived in this complex, making me slightly lightheaded. I ask Aris to help me in my search for a trace of food or at least supplies to prep our own. Praying that something has opened up since I last checked the complex doors.

We agree to split up, I search the north side, and he searches the south.

We meet up after 15 minutes of testing every door in the complex. Neither of us found a thing. I'm worried if we will ever be given another meal. According to the bodies Minho and his group found, our saviors are supposedly dead after all. Or maybe we were never rescued in the first place. For all we know this could all be WCKD's doing once again. Maybe our next big challenge is to find an exit from this complex and defend ourselves in the mysterious outside world. Whatever is going on, whatever lies in store for us, I'm finally free of that maze

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Link to Full Fic

[ediewentmissing]

Hiii!! Could you write an angst/fluff eddie fic based on a bad habit of mine? 😬 I have this habit of using things like using the bathroom or eating as a reward for finishing a task 🥴 I won’t use the bathroom even if I have to go bad until I finish an assignment or something. I’d love to know how he would react to reader doing that 🫶

this is such an adorable thought. i wish i could’ve done this better but i have a shit ton of work to do so i had to smash this out in 10 minutes 😭 so sorry for the lack of quality here but hope it’s up to standard ❤️

you’re scribbling away at your desk, filling out an important stack of sheets for mr. higgins to review tomorrow. your wrist aches from writing and your stomach is growling at you for not feeding it.

you look over at your alarm clock on your bedside table. 1 PM. shit. you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday night’s dinner. you look back at the incomplete papers miserably and continue jotting.

“hey, sweets!” eddie bursts through your bedroom door. he flashes you a smile and stands in front of you, rocking excitedly back and forth on his feet, hiding something behind his back.

you giggle at him, “what have u got hidden back there?”

“well, y’know that vinyl at camelot that you were obsessing about?”

“appetite for destruction?” you ask, “yeah, i remember. why?”

he pulls the shiny new vinyl from behind him, waving it in both hands, “i brought it!”

“eddie! i told you not to!” you laugh as he hands it over, “it was expensive!”

“hm, well i may or may not have done a massive deal with one of the tiger’s basketball players and earned a fuck-ton of cash,” he smiles, “so how ‘bout we get up and dance…” he wiggles his brows, “and relax for a bit, yeah?” he holds out his hands to lift u up from the seat at your desk.

“yeah, that sounds good,” you wave his hands away, “but i’ve gotta get this done. maybe later, ‘kay?”

“later?” he frowns, “you’ve never said later to music before, babe. what’s up? have you miraculously decided that music isn’t good enough for you anymore?” he crosses his arms.

“no, music is life, and as much as i love the idea of jamming out, i have to get this done. shoo, shoo,” you wave a hand at him, but of course he doesn’t plan on going anywhere.

“what are you doing that so important, huh?” he questions, leaning over your shoulder to take a look at the important work in question. “wait, wait, wait,” he says confused, “weren’t you doing this this morning, like, before i left?”

you nod timidly, and his mouth opens to protest, but you speak quickly, “yes, but it’s really important! it needs to be done, eds!”

“okay! okay!” he puts his hands up, mock surrendering, “well have you taken a break since you started?”

“uh…” you hesitate.

“have you eaten?” he asks, concerned. you don’t say anything. “right, that’s it,” he claps his hands together and hauls you up from your seat, “i’m going to make you a signature gourmet eddie munson special. extra special for an extra special lady, yeah?” he smiles as he drags you down the hallway to the living area.

“now sit,” he says, promptly pushing your shoulders down so you sit on the springy sofa in front of the tv. he turns it on. “watch,” he points to the tv, “relax,” he pulls your feet up to rest on the coffee table, “got it?”

you nod, closing your eyes and lolling your head back on the couch, finally relaxing. “mhmm… i can’t feel my butt.”

“probably because you’ve been sitting on that same fucking chair all day,” he chuckles from the kitchen. you can hear food bubbling.

after a couple minutes he comes back with a bowl, setting it down beside your feet, “there ya go, babe.”

you pick it up and giggle, “is your ‘signature gourmet eddie munson special’ really spaghetti?”

“ah, ah, ah,” he tuts, “canned spaghetti,” he says, as if it makes it even more special.

you’re about to eat it before you stop the forkful of spaghetti from entering your mouth. “hang on. since when did we have canned spaghetti?”

“dunno,” he shrugs, “found it at the back of the cupboard.”

“at the back of the cupboard?” you repeat, “pass me the can.” he gives you a confused look before darting to the kitchen to grab the empty can from the counter.

he passes it to you and you read it aloud, “use by the fifteenth of april, 1984… eddie your supposedly ‘gourmet food’ is expired by three years.”

[mask131]

Why the Time Bandits remake makes me feel an angry despair (1)

I announced it before: I am mounting my high horses for this matter.

"Time Bandits" is a children fantasy movie by Terry Gilliam, released in 1981. It is one of those "almost Monty-Python-movies" thanks to two other Monty Python actors joining Gilliam's project: John Cleese, playing Robin Hood, and Michael Palin playing a poor guy who keeps being reincarnated throughout history and always has the worst love life. This movie is part of the "Imagination Trilogy" of Gilliam, meant to represent the "childhood imagination" - alongside the dark movie "Brazil", for "adult imagination", and Gilliam's adaptation of the Adventures of the Baron Münchausen, for "old man imagination".

I love Time Bandits. It isn't just that I love, I adore it. This was one of my favorite movies as a kid, and it was such a huge part of my childhood it literaly shaped my imagination in many, many ways. It is still to this day one of my favorite movies, with such a unique feeling I couldn't find anywhere else but in other Gilliam-related or Python-related movies.

It is one of these rare things where I can say I am really a huge fan. I bought the Criterion Collection DVD, I bought the official script-book, I went online to find alternate versions of the scripts which contained deleted scenes NOT in the official script-book...

I even chose this movie as the subject of my presentation for my high school diploma, doing a full analysis of it that gave me a very good grade. I am really in love with this piece.

NOW if you haven't heard about it, a trailer was released for an Apple + series of (10 episodes I think?). "2024 Time Bandits". A remake by Taika Waititi (among others but he is the main guy behind this).

I had heard of this project a long time ago because Waititi's desire to do something Time Bandits related has been around since his glory days with "What we do in the shadows". He kept speaking about how much he loved Time Bandits and how he wanted to do something related to it.

... I never realized he meant doing a remake a it. Time Bandits has so much potential for sequels or prequels or alternate takes or whatever cinematic terminology you have.

Now, that being said, I don't mind a remake. Waititi has proven to have good ideas and cool projects, and he seemed to really be a fan of the original - plus it was a project he had been dragging for quite some times, so I had still some interests and hopes...

... and then the trailer came out. And I saw it. And...

... You know it will be the first time in my life I will turn into one of those angry Internet ranters mad about a remake of their favorite thing. Never in my life before I was involved on a personal level with disliking a remake but OH BOY here I am.

There are so many things BAD with this trailer. Not wrong. BAD. I don't dislike all about the trailer... But I dislike most of it, and I don't just "dislike" it as in "Oh yeah, they could have done better", no, we are talking about a "I DESPISE this".

Honestly it looks like the people behind this series considered everything that made Time Bandits unique and powerful and cool and weird... and decided to remove it to make it bland, flat and... a sort of flavorless, mass-marketable Americanized modern vaguely super-hero like movie (did Waititi's experience on the Thor movies screwed his imagination THAT badly?)

I literaly do not understand how someone so hellbent and so dedicated to Time Bandits could create a product that looks like was designed by people who only vaguely heard of the original movie's plot. Because the people who made this series clearly did NOT understood the heart, soul or goal or the movie.

I heard something about Terry Gilliam being hired as an executive producer, coming on the set for a planned three months, but leaving abruptly after only three days and never returning. And people concluded that it was because he was pissed off. Seeing the trailer, I am inclined to believe he was.

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

Mental Hospital AU! Yandere! Attack on Titan x Female Reader ~| Bertolt Ending |~

“B-Bertolt.!” Y/N exclaimed nervously.

”Y/N! We have to get o-out of h-here.” Bertolt said as be carefully grabbed her hand and began to drag her out.

“Hold on!” Y/N said as she pulled her hand out of his grip. “H-how can I trust you..?”

”What do you mean? It’s me.” Bertolt muttered. “Don’t you trust me?”

”Y-your lamp..” Y/N whispered before taking a step back. “It was empty.. there was no lightbulb in there to begin with. So why was it so stuffed?”

”Y-Y/N I don’t k-know w-“ Bertolt began to say.

“Don’t lie to me!” Y/N exclaimed. “What is you want to do to me Bertolt?! Do you want to kill me? Is that it?!” Y/N asked.

”N-No! I’d never k-kill you! I p-promise you I’ll never d-do that!” Bertolt stuttered as he took a few steps forward.

”D-don’t come near me! I trusted you Bertolt! Tell me what you were planning on doing if I went with you.” Y/N demanded.

”I was g-going to take you to an emergency e-exit! Reiner h-has Annie and our other friends in t-the Cafeteria.. I w-was hoping on t-taking you to a s-safer exit.” Bertolt explained.

”Y-You promise.?” Y/N asked cautiously. “You don’t have any d-drugs on you? Or guns?”

”I’ll never try to hurt you Y/N! I promise on my life.” Bertolt said as he rose both his hands up.

“L-let’s go then.” Y/N muttered.

The two walked away slowly before reaching an emergency exit. Before exiting, the two heard heavy footsteps from behind them. Turning around they saw Marco.

”Marco!” Y/N exclaimed happily before embracing him. “Are you okay?”

”I’m alright Y/N, thanks. I couldn’t find Jean anywhere.. I’m really concerned for him.” Marco said. “Krista was able to escape. The two of us got crushed under a pillar but she was able to crawl out and get help.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay. All of the other emergency exits are blocked besides this one and the Cafeteria one.” Y/N explained. “The one in the Cafeteria however is being used by Patients who are trying to escape.”

”Y/N. Who is that?” Bertolt asked as he stood towering over the two.

“Bertolt, this is Marco. He’s a friend.” Y/N said.

”A-Are you her coworker?” Marco asked awkwardly.

”No he’s-“ Y/N began to say.

”Y-Yes! I’m her coworker, unfortunately I don’t get to go for break like most workers and just relax in my office heh..” Bertolt exclaimed nervously.

”You look really familiar though..” Marco muttered as he stared at the tall brunette. “I used to work in Ward 1, I don’t remember seeing you.”

”I’m an assistant. Yeah.” Bertolt said as he opened the emergency exit and dragged Y/N out with him, Marco following after.

”Bertolt, why did you say that.?” Y/N whispered.

”I need to escape this stupid place. I know I’ve hurt lots of people and helped bad people but I want to see something else other than white walls for the rest of my life. I want to see it with you.” Bertolt confessed.

”B-Bertolt.” Y/N muttered before walking off with him and away from the group of Doctors and Nurses.

.

.

.

“Bertolt. I’m hungry!!” Y/N complained as she rubbed her stomach.

”Dinner will be ready in a minute. Could you get (D/N)’s diaper changed..?” Bertolt asked.

”Okay.” Y/N simply said before grabbing her little girl and lifting her up in the air and tossing her up gently.

”C-careful!” Bertolt exclaimed.

”Relax honey! I’ve got her in my arms.” Y/N said as she held the giggling baby girl.

“I’m glad. Could you get the plates out when you’re done?” Bertolt requested.

”Sure.” Y/N said as she changed the baby’s nappy. “Hey uh I was thinking that we could go visit some friends.”

”Friends? What friends?” Bertolt asked.

”Y’know, my old friends..” Y/N said before turning towards him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.”

”I guess we could go visit them. I never thought about that, sorry you had to wait so long just to ask me dear.” Bertolt muttered as he walked towards her and wrapped his arms around her.

”I’m just glad you said yes. Love you Bertie-Boy.” Y/N teased.

”Love you too honey.” Bertolt said before kissing her cheek.

(A/N: I’m so sorry for not posting, I’ve had Writers Block for so long but now I’m back! Hopefully I can get Erwin’s ending done soon and eventually the book will come to an end. Sincerely Author-Chan)

[twistedwonderlandobsession]

Hi! I was really interested in this post and I thought that I’d try it! 

My ingame name is Flick, she/they, I’m b-day twins with Leona, and I’m 15 going on 16 soon! (So no staff matches, please!)

I’m an introvert, and I’m on the spectrum. Probably ADHD or OCD? I’m still on the waiting list for a psych evaluation. I tend to overshare and get defensive easily.

I can’t stand clutter. If I’m in a messy environment I can’t function. I’m only productive if I need to do something I’m interested in. My lifestyle is based on my mood, so it fluctuates a lot. I consider myself to have pretty intense mood swings.

I like sunshine, grape juice, graphic novels, writing, drawing and cats. I dislike bugs, clutter, my siblings, hot weather and alarm clocks.

I’m homeschooled b/c my experience in public school wasn’t good. I hyperfixate on things. The current object of my obsession is Twisted Wonderland.

When in a good environment, I perform very well academically. I enjoy being physical (like in P.E.), but haven’t recently.

My life is kind of in a slump right now. My mental health is high, and I’ve been working on improving myself, but I haven’t gotten anywhere with social or physical health.

I’m hoping to change that soon and get out of my comfort zone. I want to have friends and be able to not get flustered or freak out around people. That’s a big goal of mine.

I think I’m a little like Rook, but I only focus on the beauty in art. Not people or architecture, just art. I feel happiest when I find a graphic novel that boasts the art style I admire.

Okay, sorry if that was too long! Thank you so much for looking at this, I look forward to seeing who I’ll match with! (Please do platonic and romantic!)

I match you with Kalim Al-Asim

(platonic)

The First Impression:

As soon as Kalim accidently made eye contact with you one time in the hall he was immediately attached to your side. Determined to be your friend.

The Relationship:

No matter how much you "overshare" kalim was right next to you eagerly listening to each word like a podcast....he may not remember all of it but he tries! No matter how defensive you become this clueless ball of sunshine was never taking any of it personally and always tried to make you more comfortable with him. Honestly it's hard to tell if he is extremely patient with your mood swings or just dosen't notice them.

Any intrests of yours are always fascinating to him, and as soon as you mention any Hobbie Jamil is physically holding him back from spending hundreds of thousands on supplies so he can join your fun. Though after Jamil is done wrestling him feel free to talk his ear off about your current hyperfixation. He is eagerly listening while nodding.

Being homeschooled and a bit deprived of social interaction was something both of you had experienced when younger and while kalim may refuse to feel negativity about this experience burying his emotions deep deep down it dose give him something to relate to you about.

Knowing that you love sunshine he always would try to get you to hang out at a park or eat outside with him, but would always avoid Scarabia or any hot and humid places prioritizing your comfort above all else.

As soon as he head you mention once in passing that you wanted to get out a bit more and make more friends this boy was all over it, dragging you around and introducing you to everyone he knew, constantly encouraging you to step out out your comfort zone.

He means well just put your hand on his shoulder and tell him to slow down a little.

I match you with Jade Leech

(Romantic)

The First Impression:

Jade was intrigued by you, or rather more specifically your tendencies. Granted, that they were nothing too outlandish but nonetheless the variety of emotions, reactions, tendencies and appearance mixed together at times could be quit the contradiction and always made his eyes linger on you whenever near

Why He Fell:

Honestly no one knows why Jade fell, perhaps not even Jade himself. Granted even if the Leech twin did happen to know it was very unlikely that he would tell you. Though over time it became clear how he would subtly glance around the room, or how he would casually inch twords you, even getting to the point where he would randomly muse to himself about whatever had your focus raising his voice ever so slightly louder than usual or interject in your conversations. Soon this turned into light touches such as picking a leaf off your uniform or brushing your hair out of your face, which became bolder casually grabbing your arm or shoulder to steer you eventually morphing into him putting a arm around your shoulders or resting his chin atop your head.

The Relationship:

When you did begin dating the closer you got the more that it was clear that Jade was in no way the more reasonable twin, he just happened to be more composed and less upfront than Floyd was. This was made clear the more time you spent with him being just as chaotic as his brother, having a tendency to hang around whatever he had deemed amusing.

Being that he has a rather moody brother himself the male delt with your mood swings quite well, even if they were particularly bad at times he always managed to take whatever you threw at him with an amused smile already being adjusted to have to live with a rather unpredictable and moody person since birth.

He was eerily good at picking up on your mood, interests, and current hyperfixations. Always knowing just where the line was and making sure to never cross it. Despite his surprisingly teasing nature at times that to some may come off as intimidating and everything in-between your relationship was built off of a mutual respect for one another's boundaries and care for eachothers needs.

It was good for him that he noticed how much you loved the sun and enjoyed being active, using this information to his advantage he began taking you on hikes with him. After a while of this happening he happening to note you tended to have more energy the day after and seemed to be more positive and productive causing him to make these hikes a annual thing making sure you have them at least once a week if not more.

As soon as you accepted Jade Leech as your partner that was it, there was not getting rid of him. There was no way he was letting you go over trivial fights and such like most relationships downfall. As far as he was concerned he was just waiting for the time to pass till he could legally make you his life partner. Though despite this he never stopped working on maintaining your relationship and keeping clear communication about the important things so that one day he will be able to get a ring on that finger. Though until then he'll just enjoy the ride.

[grumpygreenwitch]

The Witches and Wizards Job 7-8

Around this point I actually read back and asked myself, "Is this moving too fast?" Then I remember the speed at which a Leverage episode actually moves and the kind of beating Harry usually picks up each book, and went, "Nah."

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SEVEN

The divide between magic and technology is a known quantity. Every wizard knows to stay away from most mechanical things; the more complex they are, the more likely they were to break. The more powerful the wizard, the quicker it was gonna happen. Even knowing these things, I hadn't realized how deep that boundary ran until I tried to find out anything about my prospective employers.

If it had been a magical entity, a spell, an artifact, between Bob and I we could have probably found out at least the basics, but Bob couldn't find out anything about the Leverage people. I wasn't crazy enough to try and scry something in Boston, never mind the range.

All I could tell was that Leverage was, apparently, a purely mundane affair. Based in Boston as they were I didn't doubt they'd run themselves into something other that the average human, but as the afternoon dragged on I began to realize I was going to have more luck finding out what, rather than getting any sort of information on whatever Deveraux and Ford actually had going on.

A smart man would have said no on principle. What little I could find out told me that if things had gotten so bad that an entirely non-magical outfit like Leverage had come looking for a wizard, then they were bad enough that walking away unscathed to enjoy that absurdly large paycheck was not guaranteed. Not even 50/50 odds.

But 50/50 was still better than no odds at all.

And I hadn't lied when I told Deveraux that I'm a curious man.

She'd written a number on the back of the card. Not a hotel, so they could have been anywhere. I eyed it while I called Butters and asked him to look after Mister while I was away. Then I called it.

"Harry." Deveraux actually sounded happy to hear me; it was refreshing.

"Train. The older the better," I told her. "That applies to any tech you want near me, too. Mouse comes with me."

"Yes, of course."

"The daily fee is… good." My voice cracked a bit despite my best attempt at sounding like it was not a holy-heck amount of money. I cleared it. "It's good. But I can't go longer than a week. One week and I'm coming back home, even if your problem's not solved."

"That's fine."

"And I need a basement."

"A b… A basement?"

"It's contained in case something bad happens."

"Ah." The fact she didn't ask questions told me containment was a common concern in both her line of work and mine. "Anything else?"

"I can't think of anything off the top of my head. I'm sure something will come up." Something did almost immediately. "A full briefing as soon as I'm there. No secrets, no lies. If I find out you've lied to me, I'll leave."

"We'll tell you as much as we know," she assured me, and I found myself believing her. "Welcome to the team, Harry."

It felt weird to be welcomed, to be made to feel as if I were part of a team that actually wanted me there. "When do you think you'll have everything ready?"

There was laughter in her tone. "When do you think you'll be packed?"

Three hours later I was at Union Station, being escorted off the oldest VW minibus in existence and onto a rail car that apparently I had all to myself, like something out of an Agatha Christie book. I'd packed Bob, my tools, a quick-spell kit, any books I thought might help, and a change of clothes. Mouse looked mournfully at me as the train began to move, and I couldn't blame him; it felt as if I were leaving a piece of myself behind.

I knew Chicago. It was home. I knew the people, the streets. I knew its seasons, its weather. I knew the hangouts of most of the dangerous creatures in it, both human and inhuman. I knew every layer of it, every mood, every current.

I knew very little about Boston except that it was a supernatural melting pot. Most creatures that crossed from the Old World or from Other Places and didn't come through the Nevernever landed in Boston; many stayed there, made lives there. There were inhuman families that were generations old, living side by side with the descendants of human immigrants. The divide between mortal and supernatural was as thin as my willpower in Boston.

Look, Deveraux had handed me a really big number.

The train never stopped. That struck me as weird, but then I'd never traveled first class on a train before, so I had no bar for normal. I tried to sleep, but the novelty of everything wore off a couple of hours into the trip, and panic began to settle in. What the hell was I doing? I was Chicago's wizard, not Boston's!

Well, it was done. The AC broke about halfway through the trip, but with the windows open I never even noticed. I got my books out and read, trying to give myself a crash course on the magical scene in Boston, so to speak. Mouse took over one of the windows and seemed to have forgiven me, head thrust out into the wind of our passage, jowls flapping and the plume of his tail wagging sedately. He scared the crap out of the one person I did see, a young man who brought me breakfast and lunch, somehow still warm.

The sun had just set when the train pulled into the Back Bay. I could feel the air buzzing all around me with an imperceptible, invisible charge, the ambient energy of hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of supernatural creatures crackling against my senses. I felt both supercharged and itchy, and Mouse shook himself furiously when we finally made it off the rail car.

There was a man waiting for me on the concourse. He was tremendously solid, the sort of build I used to wish for when I was young, heavy muscle under a worn leather jacket, faded blue jeans and comfortable curb-stomper boots. He had long, very fine brown hair and oddly guileless blue eyes. He had stubble matching mine and he straightened up from his lazy slouch with the ease of someone perfectly at peace with the world around him.

I couldn't see the bulge of a gun anywhere, but I was pretty sure this was Leverage's heavy hitter.

Then he grinned at me, and his whole face lit up, and I thought maybe I was wrong. "Dresden?"

"That's me," I admitted.

He offered his hand without hesitation. "Eliot Spencer. Eliot's fine. Sorry to drag you so far from home."

This man was a walking contradiction. His hands told me I was right. His attitude told me I was wrong. He was the nicest, friendliest man with violence as his main occupation that I'd ever met up to that point in my life. He meant every word of his apology. He was sizing me up for threats.

Belatedly, I realized that Boston was literally supercharging me. My senses, both magical and normal, were trying to run away with me. I had nothing else at the moment; I clung to the hand Eliot Spencer offered, to the strength in it. "Oh, you didn't, not really. Too curious for my own good. Give me a second, would you?"

"You ok, man?"

"Just a little… drunk on the night air," I said, knowing how that had to sound to him.

I was not expecting the change that went over him. It was seamless, instantaneous. One moment Eliot Spencer was welcoming me to his home like a ray of sunshine; the next he was all deadly intent, a sort of quiet, intangible menace radiating from him like the darkest light. "A problem?" he asked mildly.

It told me two things; one, that I was right after all and two, that whatever had brought me to Boston was big enough to have this calm, steady man on a hair-trigger. "No, it's…. Boston's busy. Boston's real busy when it comes to magic. It hangs in the air, makes it thick, and it's giving me a head rush."

"Chicago's not like that?"

"No. The Lake grounds it. Water's good for that."

"I could take you by the Charles if it would help - hey!" And just like that the ray of sunshine was back when Mouse came trotting back from wherever he'd gone to take care of his business. Eliot dropped down to a crouch. "Who's this, Mouse, I think?"

"Yeah. Just watch out, he's not always -" Mouse, tail a blur, charged the Leverage man with a delighted huff and proceeded to lick anything Eliot didn't vigilantly protect, making him chuckle. Well. That was new. And good news for me. "Friendly. He was also a lot smaller when he was a puppy."

Eliot straightened up, rubbing Mouse's head with rough affection. My dog looked blissful, tongue lolling to one side. "Bait-and-switched you, huh."

"It might've been, if he'd given me any choice in the matter."

"He's big for a Tibetan Mastiff," Eliot pointed out. "Wrong color, too."

"He's not. He's a Tibetan Temple Mastiff."

Again that brief pause. Eliot looked down at Mouse. Mouse looked up at him.

The Leverage man grinned again and rubbed Mouse's ears. "Eh, he looks dog enough for me. Anyway. If you're feeling better, let's get you settled. I rented a van."

"Cars get temperamental with me around."

"Dresden, if you can break down a u-Haul, I'll believe you're a wizard no further questions. Where's your luggage?"

EIGHT

Apparently the Leverage people weren't unfamiliar with what happened when you put magic too close to tech. I was put up in their 'temporary' quarters, a small house a lick away from their actual place of business, a loft over a bar by the incredibly Irish name of John McRory's Place.

The house was nice. It had a fenced yard that Mouse promptly claimed as his own and a finished basement that I promptly claimed as my own. The bedroom looked suspiciously like someone had ordered it directly from a catalog, sheets and all. The only other rooms that were accessible were one bathroom and the living room, which had been set up as a meeting area of sorts. The kitchen was empty. The other rooms were full of crates.

There was dinner from the pub waiting for me that night, and a phone in a manila envelope. I offered to share my beer with Eliot; the phone died with a sad little squawk before we finished it.

"That's gonna make things hard," he admitted wryly, examining the dead screen of the phone. "I take it a bluetooth's out of the question?"

"The more parts to it, the quicker it goes."

I saw him get very thoughtful. "What about size? The bigger it is?"

"How big are we talking about?" I asked mildly, sensing a chance to finally get some information as to what had brought me to Boston.

"TV screen," Eliot answered without hesitation, then spread his arms. "Yay big."

"What were you doing at the time?"

"Trying to get a composite from a bunch of blurry pictures."

"What happened?"

"It cracked." He grinned wryly. "Top to bottom. We took that thing out to the recycling in two halves." His jovial mood faded. "I don't like the look on your face right now, Dresden."

"You shouldn't." I was trying to think of creatures that could shatter a screen like that, with just their image, without actually being there. It was a short list; it was also a very scary list. "It wasn't anything else, it had to be the picture?"

"The man who works our tech is the best, hands-down. His equipment doesn't blow up like that without a good reason," Eliot said calmly, then put his hands up. "Wait, no, I'm supposed to let you rest tonight. You're gonna hear all this tomorrow morning anyway."

"I did nothing but sleep on the train ride," I told him. I won't lie, it felt nice to know the Leverage outfit, whatever their business might be, gave enough of a damn to give me the night to myself. Most people who hire me for that kind of money expected 24-7 service, never mind what kind of shape I might be in at the end of the day. "Tell me what you can."

He gave me one of the few measuring looks I've ever gotten that didn't have my harm at heart before he made a decision and tipped his head toward the pub. "Come on."

"Mouse, watch the place." Mouse flopped in front of the door and settled down with a yawn.

The front of the pub was roaring, but we came in from the back. Eliot knocked softly on a door, poked his head in and murmured something to someone in there. I caught a faint whiff of something sweet, almost like licorice - probably a storage room, and a bottle of liquor had broken and been cleaned up. Eliot got his answer; he closed the door and we moved on. He peeked out into the main floor and called out something I couldn't hear over the noise of the crowd before heading to a pair of elevator doors.

I stopped walking. "Uh…"

He paused, turned, and led me to the stairs, grinning. "You know, I don't even think about most of this stuff. Tech's embedded so deep into our lives."

"I just wish for a hot water heater that didn't break in under a week," I told him.

"Yikes."

"Yup."

"Just keep your distance from Hardison's tech," Eliot warned me as he led me into a vast, elegant little loft. The bare brick walls had paintings on them that looked… modern. Expensive. I didn't know enough about art back then to appreciate what they were. A spiral staircase led up to what was probably a bedroom, and behind it was a typical modern kitchen. Most of the open space was taken up by a very modern, very sleek meeting room sort of setup, a wall full of screens and a small curve of desks before it. "He's still sore about those screens."

"Screens? More than one?"

"Yeah, a second one a day after -"

A young woman came flying into the loft. "Where is he? Where's the wizard?"

"Parker, don't -"

She whirled and faced me, and immediately made a face. "Aren't you supposed to have a white bushy beard?"

"Not for another couple hundred years."

I hadn't expected my quip to bring her up short, but it did. She seemed to really think about it, and it gave me a chance to examine her. She was young, wiry, blonde, pretty. She had the same kind of intensity Karrin had, but her focus seemed to change from minute to minute.

"Oh. I didn't think about that. There have to be young wizards to get old wizards."

"Parker." Eliot sighed.

"No robes?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Fancy spell books?"

"I do have one of those."

"Can I see it?"

"Parker, let the man catch his breath." Sophie Deveraux looked cozy and elegant and beautiful in a flowing blue blouse and a shimmering gray skirt. She beamed at me and I felt warm and fuzzy. Look, I'm man enough to admit it, I'm a sucker for a pretty lady, particularly one that doesn't want me dead. "Harry."

"Miss Deveraux."

"Just Sophie, Harry, please. Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait?"

"I'm good. I got all my rest in the train ride. Boston's full of energy, and it's making me buzzed, I rather put some of it to work, get it out of my system -"

"Why do you carry a stick?"

I whipped around. Parker had my wand in her hands.

Hell's Bells, I'd never even felt the theft. My wand, and I would have never known she'd gone for it if she hadn't said something.

Something in my face clued Sophie and Eliot that things had gone very badly, very quickly. "Parker!" Sophie cried out.

With all the care of someone handling live explosives, Eliot closed a hand over the 'stick'. "We are trying," he told her, sticking to his calm demeanor like tar, "to make a good impression, Parker."

"Oh, fine. Should I give everything else back?"

I took the quickest stock of my person I'd ever taken in my life. Immediately I found another thing missing that I would have never thought could be taken from me without my notice. How in the hell -!

"Yes!" Sophie told her firmly.

"Well, he didn't have anything interesting anyways," Parker put out her hand with my wallet on it.

And my shield bracelet.

Eliot offered me my wand back, looking sheepish. "Sorry, man."

"I just - how?" Seriously. Never mind the theft, everything was coming back to me, nothing was broken, no one was hurt, I just wanted to know how she'd done it.

"Parker is the best in the world," Sophie said, somehow managing to convey warm pride and icy disapproval all in one. Parker squirmed uncertainly. "She should also bear in mind that as of now you're part of our team, and we don't pickpocket teammates."

Parker held strong under the tone of disapproval longer than I would have. "Sorry," she muttered with ill grace.

"No harm no foul if you teach me how to do it."

She grinned, just a little. "Deal."

"Also, where should I stand so I'm as far away from anything tech-y as possible?"

"Right there." Nathan Ford had arrived, and the mask was off. He still looked vaguely friendly, a little rumpled, somewhat distracted. But there was nothing hiding the ruthless ice in his eyes anymore, or the deep mistrust in the gaze he leveled at me. I was in his world, in his domain, I was his employee. The carrot had done her job, the stick didn't have to mind his manners anymore. "Right there's fine, mister Dresden."

Ford passed everyone by and moved to the kitchen to find himself, apparently, some coffee. "Where's Hardison?"

"He said he wanted to take a few more pictures of the cylinder we found at the museum," Eliot told him. "He's in the storage room."

"What cylinder?" Something was bugging me. It wasn't big, at least not big enough to pin it down, but it was there, nagging at the back of my mind like a toothache after too much sugar.

"There was an issue at the Isabella Gardner Museum," Sophie told me. "Someone tampered with the fire suppression system. They attached some kind of homemade cylinder to the system and it started pumping something out in the air, some sort of perfume." She shrugged lightly. "We don't know why, there was no need for it."

"Perfume?"

"Yes. Fernflower."

I was running the next moment, going on a guess and a prayer. The guess was that the closed door was the storage room. The prayer was that I wouldn't be too late.

The moment I hit the bottom floor a faint reek of sweet, rotten candy and burning flowers made me reel back, coughing, my lungs burning. I could definitely smell the fernflower; worse, I could also smell night's breath. This was some deep, deep magic. Deep and old. Someone had cooked up a Burning Witchwell, and Leverage had blundered right into it. Only luck had kept any of them from being magically inclined, but that luck had run out with the fernflower.

Eliot was right behind me, and he threw a hand over his face. He snatched a bunch of cloth napkins from a nearby shelf and shoved them at me. "What is that?!"

I ran on and shoved the door open to the storage room. There was a man kneeling on the floor before a table, wheezing. The fernflower fumes burned my eyes and I actually heard my skin hiss on contact with the night's breath, but I was running on Boston air. I was so charged up I barely registered any pain.

"Venti, ventum!" I shouted. Wind poured into the storage room. Everything went flying off the shelves. I felt my magic careen out of control, as supercharged as I was, and fought to bring it back under control. I didn't want to wreck the room, I just wanted to get the man to safety, away from the fumes.

"Hardison!" Eliot had already dashed past me, catching the man. He was lanky, lean, deceptively muscled, possibly an inch or so taller than me. His skin was very dark and it had gone blotchy where the night's breath had had time to settle down and sink in. He slurred something unintelligible and squinted intently at me; I couldn't even begin to imagine what he was seeing.

"Dresden?!" Eliot asked, spitting his own hair out of his mouth.

"Go, get him out!"

He didn't question me. I could have danced a happy jig at that show of trust. I backed out of the room; I was one step past the doorway when helpful hands slammed the door shut. "Does the ventilation system here connect to the pub?"

"No, it goes straight out," Ford replied.

"Then just put some…" The borrowed energy from the Boston ambiance ran out. I felt pain creep up over any part of me not covered by fabric. "Put some…"

"Sophie, put some towels at the bottom," Ford's voice was full of calm, focused competency. "Parker, go tell the front of house no one is to come into this room until one of us says otherwise. Eliot." There was a pause. "Dresden, is a hospital going to help either of you?"

"He's fine." Oh, that was Ford's shoulder under my arm, holding me up. When had that happened? "Unless he's got magic, he's just drunk. Sort of."

"And you?"

"I'm a little blistered." I was a little more than blistered, but I had the advantage of knowing the damage wasn't real. "No hospital. A bath."

"Alright. Let's get you and Hardison up to the loft, then."

I wasn't in any shape to argue. I got shoved under a spray of miraculously hot water. Someone peeled my clothes off. At some point I realized I trusted only two people in the loft, and one of them was helping undress me. "Wash your hands," I told Eliot. "Wash the clothes."

"Can we burn them?"

"Don't burn my clothes, I didn't bring any more." I stared at him suspiciously; well, there was only one person I trusted anymore. "Tell Parker to watch my things."

Eliot offered a sound of deeply amused disbelief. Somewhere nearby a man's voice was tunelessly singing what sounded like a church song. "Drunk?"

"Intox… Intec… Sort of. Fernflower gives you magic. See things. Talk to animals. Sorta thing. But it's eph… emph…. It fades quick. You gotta lace it with… other stuff. It It wasn't the weapon, the night's breath was."

"Night's breath?"

"Old plant. Burns up magic. Night's breath was fire. Fernflower was gasoline. 's called a… a Burning Witchwell."

"You aren't breathing right, man."

"Fake. I'll be fine when my…. when my magic comes back. Easy, in this place."

"Fake damage." At that Eliot did look disbelieving. "Hurt's hurt."

"Particularly if you believe in it," I shot back, then put my head up to the spray of hot water. "Oh, that feels good."

I heard Eliot snort in amusement. "Well, enjoy it while you can. Haven't blown up this heater."

"Give me a chance, I just got here."

[dark-elf-writes]

Make sure to put your omega in their place. They are not equal to Alphas and must be made to understand this by any means necessary.

Shoto nods solemnly at the advice and closes the book with faintly dusty fingers as tilts his head back against the headboard.

Not equal…well that’s true enough. For all that Izuku is his friend and partner, there is a vast chasm between them that he’s failed to acknowledge as of yet. That was a mistake that would have to be corrected. Immediately.

Grabbing a box from where it was tucked away in his nightstand, Shoto makes his way out the door with hasty steps. At this time, Izuku would have already taken his post-workout shower, so he was either in his room doing homework or going though light flexibility stretches in a different training room.

But no, that’s not right. He drank a cup of matcha tea this morning instead of a bottle of lemon water. That means Izuku would be in the kitchen getting something to drink and would be inevitably dragged into a conversation in the common room.

Altering his path to lead to the common room, Shoto turns the corner, only to sidestep as he narrowly avoids getting run into.

“Sorry about that,” Kaminari laughs with electricity sparking from his skin nervously. “Where are you rushing to anyway, man?”

“I have to put Izuku in his place as my omega”

Yellow eyes widening in shock, Kaminari goes oddly still before jerking into movement all at once with flailing hands. “I-dude don’t you think that’s a little…I mean you’ve been pretty, uh, non-traditional about that so far?”

Frustration building at the reminder of his failure, Shoto lets out a faint snarl to make the blond leave him alone. At least it was supposed to be a faint snarl, though the beta’s barely covered flinch was enough to indicate he failed at that too.

If anything, however, Kaminari’s attention seemed to sharpen on him instead of leaving. “Just tell me why your trying to do that to him yeah? What changed? I swear if it was one of those 2-B assholes I’ll beat all their asses.”

Side stepping the hand reaching for his shoulder, Shoto flashes his teeth. “I should have done it earlier. It was a mistake not to,” he growls.

Ignoring the blond hurrying after him, he stalks down the hall and into the common room where Izuku’s scent is strongest. Walking into the room, vivid emerald eyes immediately meet his own and the weight of his failure quickly fades under the force of Izuku’s smile.

He couldn’t have screwed up that bad if his partner is still willing to look at him like this. Smile at him as soon he walks into the room like a compass turning north. But that hardly matters, he made a mistake in not showing Izuku their place and that had to be fixed.

Moving more sedately than before with his partner in sight, Shoto gently tugs Izuku out of their seat until they’re standing before him with a faintly confused look on their pretty face.

Without delay, he drops to his knees in front of Izuku and ignores the gasps and choking from around them with practiced ease.

Holding up the neatly wrapped box he grabbed from his nightstand, Shoto allows himself to watch freckles cheeks turn a pretty pink and eyes light in excitement as Izuku unwraps the delicate eternal-ice necklace he made with changeable viales of poison attached.

“You place is anywhere in my life where I can worship you.”

He could have done without Kaminari’s wheezing breaths and unintelligible mumbling in the background, but he supposed seeing Izuku’s doe eyes fill with happy tears would move anyone to speechlessness.

(I hate how this turned out but I figured I would send it to you anyway, cuz why not)

ALPHA SHOUTO WOULD 100% KNEEL IN FRONT OF OMEGA IZUKU BECAUSE THAT IS THEIR PLACE AND UAJSJDHSB

Shouto would be the loudest Omega Rights advocate alright. Man would never stop screaming from the top of his lungs for people to Be Better and he would also not shy away from where he learned it either just.

Interviewer: So how did you learn to be like this? Was it from watching your parents?

Shouto, way too close to the mic, blown out like it’s a haha funny tiktok: Absolutely not. I basically saw everything my father inflicted on my mother and decided I was going to do the exact opposite.

His publicist is off camera and in tears as they try to get ahead of the fallout.

[thesinglesjukebox]

EXO - "LET ME IN"

From Kayla, a K-pop R&B ballad lots of us welcome in...

[5.92]

Kayla Beardslee: I love staring at the ocean. I'm the kind of person who always has some kind of distraction running through my head. I'm never completely comfortable in my own body; I'm always compulsively planning ahead for something in my mind. But I'm so small in comparison to the horizon that it makes everything go quiet. I can watch and watch and watch the waves and the view will give me almost nothing back, yet it stays in motion just enough that I don't want to look anywhere else. There's comfort in giving yourself up to that kind of all-consuming emptiness. You could maybe say the same about stargazing; the stars, though, are pretty, static points of light that inspire very theoretical daydreams. The ocean is right there on the edge of the everyday, reaching out against the shore, pulsing not with life but with the space between it, ready to grasp and swallow you down into the darkness if you lose yourself enough to give it the chance. You can look at the gray, shifting surface and easily imagine what it might feel like to drown. Or maybe you don't have to imagine. "Let Me In," EXO's first full-group track in four and a half years, is a song about helping someone who's been dragged too far down into the waves. "Vanishing into the dark, you're gone," it begins; "Struggling, but even if you sink, it's fine / Make your way to me through the waves." As the members of EXO reassure their partner that they're not alone, they sing with such precision that you can almost hold onto the syllables -- after all, they want you to not let go, to not lose hope even if the world is cast in nothing but gray and blue. This song crept up on me in the months after its release even before I decided what it was about, but one night, it clicked as a song about depression. "Gotta let me in, you're the ocean," goes the chorus. Inside you is an encroaching darkness and coldness that reaches too deep to disappear. But as the weight of the water presses down and obscures everything else in the distance, EXO's vocals cut through like a lifeline, strength and warmth emanating from their expressions of devotion ("Want to drift off in your soft embrace / If possible, hold me and let me in"). It's not that this song resonated with me because a partner helped me out of depression. I just hear the soft melody in the bridge, rising and falling in time with the waves, and for a moment everything makes sense. It isn't a promise that things are going to get better; maybe things aren't even going to be okay. "Let Me In" ends not with a grand vow to fight or change or reject these feelings -- how could one person oppose something so huge? -- but with a simple reminder that there's someone by their side ready to save them from drowning. "Fall into you, the bluest water / 'Cause you're my ocean," Chen and Baekhyun breathe out in the closing lines: no matter how deep your sadness, someone out there will understand it, willingly dive in, and not falter in their love. I don't know if it's healing or hypnosis, but while the ocean takes and takes and takes from me, I choose to also get something back. Against its vastness, every insignificant, anxious, unsure inch of me suddenly feels so much more important and real. I feel small; I feel aware of myself; I feel human. [10]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Genuinely suave in a way that most pop music simply is not. The charm is studied and practiced, but that's an argument for EXO rather than against. Effort is sexy! [7]

Michael Hong: SM Groups' Korean Singles, 2023: Memories > Spicy > ISTJ > Perfume > Fact Check > Drama > Cream Soda > Down > Let Me In > Broken Melodies > Talk Saxy > Chill Kill > Get a Guitar > Hard > Stamp on It > Hear Me Out > Ay-Yo > Golden Age > Baggy Jeans [5]

Anna Katrina Lockwood: Man, this EXO comeback was a bit of a shitshow. Between CBX's lawsuit against SM, Kai's obviously unanticipated enlistment timing, and the general clusterfuck in SM Entertainment business affairs, the vibes felt off. Nonetheless, EXO's surprisingly litigious, nearly unassailable vocal line are persistently on their game, and nowhere more so than on "Let Me In". There's not really any new way I can think to express that Chen, Baekhyun and D.O. are better singers than everyone, but I have a new appreciation for the balance the trio has, each with strengths that don't step on the others. The three thrive in this low-tension ambience, meandering amongst the vaporous pad synths, occasionally pinned down by the pleasingly erratic bassline. The other EXO who absolutely nailed this sort of thing in the past few years is of course Kai, and it's a real shame he wasn't around for promotions. It's also part of the reason that "Cream Soda", the glossier title track, felt a little flat -- it was built for Kai, and then he wasn't there. You can put Baekhyun in all the pink fur jackets you want but you ain't gonna pull the wool over my eyes! I just can't, uh, fight the feeling that EXO isn't anyone's priority these last few years, and this release didn't convince me otherwise. But "Let Me In" at the very least plays to their vocal strengths, with predictably appealing results. [7]

Tara Hillegeist: Even now, in the age of anxious, hesitant production choices, and as a result the shrinking aesthetic palette from which Korean pop stars can choose how they want their next comeback to sound, it's still a rare, deflating surprise when a single releases and the worst part in a bad way is the rap. Chanyeol's lead-laced bars kill the whole vibe like he's showing up to the dance rehearsal in cement shoes. The whole song feels sorely spent for breath after that sodden, damming shuffle of a verse, when everything else about this cry-me-a-river-along implicitly calls for a perfect stormcloud instead. [3]

Ian Mathers: What do you call it when you don't quite attain the heights of the quiet storm genre? Quiet drizzle? Luckily I love an overcast day. [6]

Nortey Dowuona: The lush keyboard and bass is lovely, but the drum programming is so bland and largely invisible; it boggles the mind as to why it's buried all the way back there. As for the boys themselves, CHEN's delicious tenor feels the most distinct, yet they all comfortably harmonize together. The rapping from Chanyoel feels staccato and jittery, Sehun lilts behind it, and Baekhyun delivers the excellent closure to the final chorus. But overall "Let Me In" feels anonymous, a warm gulp of raspberry tea that I enjoy then forget forever. [5]

Rachel Saywitz: As with most K-pop ballads that end up in my ears these days, I struggle to find what's new about this one--EXO has plenty of slower, groovier songs that I'd rather listen to. But damn, if it isn't nice hearing one of K-pop's best vocal lines again. Baekhyun, D.O., and Chen can make the drabbiest melodies sing, and they stretch and strain on a chorus that might otherwise have no heft to it. [6]

Michelle Myers: There's a faint outline of a great EXO B-side in here, and Baekhyun's vocal tone will always stir something within me. But I can't help but hear the exhaustion and resignation in their performances. It's a bummer. [5]

Brad Shoup: They croon of unfathomable depths, yet they descend on the same cloud that every pop R&B artist leases. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: It's last call at the skating rink, 10 PM at the school dance, 2000 when "This I Promise You" and "Shape of Your Heart" didn't seem like they'd be the last megahit boyband ballads for a long, long time. [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: It's just a crazy thing to be alive, man. I think about that every time I hear a song like this, because if there is anything that has survived all of K-pop's many changes, it is this reverence for the melodramatic ballad. That in itself is a complex web. Contemporary tracks like "Let Me In" are rooted in American R&B, a fact that can be traced to Korean American trio Solid finding major success in the '90s but also to the US military's undying presence in Korea. Then there's the rhythm of the rapped verses -- I hear the conversational tone of artists like Zion.T, who only sing-rap like that because of the distance Koreans have from American rap music. And then the decorum of the chorus, how those vocals soar with tremendous belief in the power of gentleness -- you could bring up boy bands from around the world, but I hear in the Korean language a specific passion that overflows even to the English lyrics. "Gotta let me in," we hear, a suggestion that reads like a command. You want to agree because it's firm and direct and tender all at once. And really, you have to: So much of the world is fucked beyond belief, and the fact that the past 100 years of Korean pop music is the product of a nation finding their voice in the midst of imperialism and occupation, the fact that countless Korean artists and music critics are constantly interrogating what it takes for our art to "be Korean"... you want to believe that something new can happen when people come together. I think about "Morning Dew," one of the most famous protest songs in Korean music history, and how it is rooted in sadness. "Leaving all my sorrow behind," goes the final line; "I am going now." That sentiment is not so far off from the one here. "You're the ocean" is an affirmation that we're bigger than we realize, that we can go beyond a small, oppressive understanding of who we are and can be. All my favorite Korean musicians taught me that, from Seo Taiji to Shin Hae Chul to Yoon Sang, from Dalpalan to Choi Joonyong to Sumin. EXO offer much the same, and it makes me feel connected to so much Korean history in the process. What a joy. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[dreamy625]

This rockstar life - 4.3 Spectrum introspection

Fun fact - I wrote most of this over a year ago, I just didn’t have anywhere to put it until now!

Words: 1639

Content: Casual drinking, smoking

This rockstar life master list

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“Ugh, you’d think with so many channels there would be something on. It’s just news, wrestling, and reruns of Magnum PI.”

Steve looks up from the guitar magazine he’s studying, “It is the middle of the night, they probably assume everyone’s asleep. Anyway, I quite like Magnum.”

Alice flicks back to the channel with the moustachioed detective, then gets out of bed and roams aimlessly around the room, picking things up and putting them down again, opening and closing the trouser press, and sniffing the complimentary toiletries. 

“D’you think it’s worth unpacking, as we’re only here two nights?”

Lighting another cigarette, Steve shrugs, “I usually just hang my jackets up.”

She hangs a few random items in the wardrobe before resuming her restless pacing.

“Such a weird nomadic existence. Where even are we?”

“Philadelphia? No… Pittsburgh? Dunno. It must say on the menu or something…” He starts rifling through the detritus on the desk.

Alice stops by the window and peers out at the unprepossessing view of freeway, vast car parks and, in the distance, the floodlit wall of the arena.

“Ah, it is Philadelphia - The Spectrum, apparently.”

She spins around with sudden eagerness, “Let's go out and look at it!”

“Now?”

“Now!”

“But I haven’t got any trousers…”

“Come ON Clarkie!”

Pausing only to scoop a handful of little bottles from the minibar into the pocket of her robe, Alice pushes him out of the door. She raises her finger to her lips to signal quiet (it is 2am after all) and they tiptoe along the corridor. As they reach the lift, there is a ding and the doors start to open, so Alice darts into the stairwell, dragging Steve behind her. Reaching the lobby, she adopts a casual saunter, as if leaving your hotel in the middle of the night in your pyjamas is completely normal. The desk clerk watches them pass, one eyebrow raised, and Steve gives him a grin and a shrug as they escape via the revolving door. 

Obviously it’s still dark, but the security lighting enables them to make their way across to the building with just the minimum of tripping up kerbs and getting snagged in hedges. 

“Wow, it’s huge!”

“Yeah. We did even bigger ones on the last tour though.”

“Wow. Just. Wow.”

Alice flops down on the grass bank facing the entrance, and Steve sits down beside her. She hands him one of the bottles from the stash in her pocket, and he lights a cigarette. 

“I just… wow. Do you ever get used to it?”

“Sort of, if you don’t think about it too much. They all start to blur into one another after a while.”

Alice lapses into thoughtful silence, staring up at the concrete edifice.

“Why am I here?”

“Don’t ask me, you’re the one who wanted to come out here!”

“No, I mean why am I here? Me specifically. Why am I here with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You could have anyone you wanted.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “a) No, I couldn’t, and b) I don’t want to anyway. I want you. Fuck knows why, because you’re clearly bonkers, but here we are.”

Alice mock-glares at him before returning to pulling up tufts of grass. “No, but seriously. This… your life… I didn’t really understand until I saw it. You just… live in a totally different world from me.”

“But you’re in my world now. You’ve been on a tour bus and everything!”

“I’m just a visitor, I’ll never be a showbiz person.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“But it does. You need someone who understands all this.” She waves an arm at the building towering above them. “You should be with another musician, or at least someone from the industry, or an actress or a model or something.”

“I tried that, remember. Just being in the same sort of weirdo job doesn’t mean you magically understand each other.”

“But you’re extraordinary.” Steve winces. “And I’m just ordinary, nothing special.”

“You are to me.”

Alice just shakes her head.

“Look, I can try and explain. But you won’t like it. It’s not… romantic. I’ll say it all wrong.”

She just shrugs one shoulder and stays staring down at the ground.

“Alright. In the clinic. I was really miserable. And… really angry. About being packed off to another useless hospital. I hated everything and everyone. Then there was you. You were so… still… and quiet. It made me feel better just to look at you. Calmer.”

Alice gives a small laugh.

“Yeah, I know now that you weren’t calm, you’re never calm, but you looked calm. And then I actually met you and you were funny, and really clever, and really weird…”

Alice laughs again.

“I even started to look forward to group therapy, because I would get to talk to you in the tea break. And then suddenly my time was up and I was leaving and I panicked that I wouldn’t see you again. You’d made everything bearable and I didn’t want to be back on my own again. Really fucking selfish. I didn’t even know if you liked me really.”

Alice interrupts, “Yes you did, you must have done. I was pretty obvious.”

“Well, a bit. But I didn’t know… I didn’t know if you liked me or if it was because I’m, you know, famous and stuff.”

Now it’s Alice’s turn to roll her eyes.

“One time when you phoned, I nearly didn’t answer. It’d been such a shit week. No sleep, I’d just got fucked up every night, got into a fight, the usual. And I thought, it’s not fair, bringing her into this, no one should have to...”

“Was that the time you fell asleep on the phone?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“This sounds… this is gonna sound made up… but I think I… sensed it. I felt that something was going on with you, and that’s why I kept phoning when you weren’t picking up.”

“Maybe you’re psychic!”

“Ha! So why did you? Answer?”

“Selfish again. I knew you’d make me feel better. Which you did. But then I felt bad again afterwards, guilty, like I was using you for… comfort.”

Alice is shaking her head again, but Steve carries on, “I didn’t understand what I was feeling. People have always said that I’m no good on my own, that I always need someone to… look after me. So was that it? Or, what do they call it? Rebound. On the rebound from Lorelei? Had I just latched onto the first girl who was nice to me because I was lonely? My head was so messed up… to be honest, I didn’t even… to start with I wasn’t even sure if I fancied you, until…”

“Oh.” Alice looks down at her lap and wraps her arms across her chest.

“No, wait, I… oh god, this is going to sound worse. I did, of course I did. I realised that… you always came into my mind when I was…” He makes a hand gesture and then looks embarrassed, “I’m sorry, that’s disgusting, it wasn’t on purpose I swear.”

He looks anxiously at Alice and, even though her head is still bent down, he can see the corners of her mouth have turned up. 

She looks up at him from behind her hair and asks, “Really? Do you still? I mean, do I still? When you…?” 

Steve, suddenly totally fascinated by picking the label off the bottle he is holding, nods.

Alice leans in and quickly kisses the corner of his mouth.

Steve clears his throat, still looking somewhat abashed. “Anyway,” he takes her hand, “what I’m trying to say is that you’re amazing and all I could ever want and even if I could have anyone I would still pick you and I don’t give a toss that you’re not a filmstar or whatever because I love you for you.” 

Speech over, he sucks in a big breath and peers at Alice’s face, trying to see from her expression if he has said the right thing. She looks like she’s going to cry, so that's… good? She reaches up her hand and pulls his head down so that their foreheads rest together.

“That’s a lot of words for a Steve.” She gives him a tender, though slightly teary and gin-flavoured, kiss. 

“I left out that I can’t believe my luck that you would even put up with me.”

“Oh stop it.”

“No, really. I know I’m… a lot to deal with. Most people would run a mile.”

“What are you talking about? You’re Steamin’ Steve Clark!”

Steve screws his face up.

“You’re so sweet, and so talented, and look at you, you’re gorgeous. Women literally line up to touch you!”

“But they just see… stage-Steve… they don’t know what I’m really like.”

“And what are you really like?” asks Alice with a smile.

He looks down, “I’m drinking minibar bourbon, in a car park, in my underpants, and someone else’s shirt…”

“My shirt.”

“Your shirt. Which I have spilled ketchup on…”

“That’d better come out.”

“So all in all, I would say not the world’s most eligible bachelor. Could do better.”

“But the car park is outside an arena where, in…” she grabs his wrist and squints at his watch, “just over eighteen hours… thousands of people, who have paid actual money, will watch you play your music and scream because they love it so much!”

“Yeah… I suppose… but that isn’t me. Not really.”

“It’s a part of you.”

“For a few hours maybe. Then you’re stuck with… this.” He waves his arms, spilling the last of the bourbon. 

Alice hands him another tiny bottle, studies him through narrowed eyes for a few seconds, then says, “It looks pretty good to me.”

“Ah, that’s what I really see in you - incredibly low standards!”

[grovekeepers]

BG3 Character Development questions incoming! :)

6: What companion are you platonically close with? 14: What hobbies does your Tav have? 17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer? 21: What is your Tav's favorite spell?

Thanks for the ask!! I'll be doing these for Robin (who will never not be on my mind), so let's go! Questions are taken from here.

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

Purely platonically speaking, the companion he gets along with the best is Minthara. If you'd ask him who his best friends are, he'd tell you it's Wyll and Karlach, but his relationship with them is also very complicated (not just because they have different moral alignments) and more often than not blurs the lines between romantic and platonic.

Minthara and him are similar, though, even if he wouldn't ever admit that to himself, and it's why they get along so well. They're slow to trust and guarded, they strike through wit and shadowy schemes and are hard to truly approach while they also both have a very vulnerable core. He carries a lot of respect for her in his heart and only death can put an end to his love for her.

14: What hobbies does your Tav have?

Not that it's necessarily a hobby, but he does spend most of his alone time reading (mainly because reading stolen books were the only "luxury" he could afford as a teenager roaming the streets of Baldur's Gate). It's how he fills his time until he can do something else. If he can't be found anywhere else he's either A) nestled away somewhere playing the flute or B) nose deep in a book that's most likely full of the filthiest things you can imagine while taking drags off Halsin's pipe burning up some questionable herbs. Weed, it's DND weed.

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

I'd even go as far as saying that Maddox is at his happiest when he gets to wander. Staying in one place for too long or settling down might be dream for others but to him it's a nightmare. Exploring new places and traveling to new corners of Faerun, meeting new people and getting to know their customs, discovering what else nature has to offer does fill him with more joy than a settled life ever could.

21: What is your Tav's favorite spell?

It's a solid tie between Thunderwave, Moonbeam, Wither and Bloom, Heat Metal, Thornwhip to get his enemies closer to him so he can stab them with the Shadowblade, and Wall of Thorns.

He defaults to them a lot! (I've been using the 5e spells mod for ages, so I don't really remember how many of them are in vanilla BG3)

[renaerys]

Hello! I really love the progress of the heiress and the hierophant. The chemistry between Ino and Itachi is just magical and magnetic. What are your head canons regarding Itaino?

To be honest, I'm never quite sure how to answer questions about ship headcanons. I think it's because I don't think of them as one unit, but as separate individuals who, due to their personalities and proclivities, fit together in a dynamic like two pieces of a puzzle.

I see Itachi as someone who is a deeply loyal person, but also a very intense person, often in an extreme way. He doesn't care much about 99% of people beyond a surface level required to maintain standing and reputation in social circles. But when he decides he does care about someone, he dials it up to an 11. He's 0 to 60 in 3.5, in the immortal words of our lady and savior Rhianna. Obviously, Sasuke is #1 always and forever. Aside from Sasuke, canonically we know that chosen person for him was always Shisui (however you choose to interpret the nature of their relationship, that remains true). Shisui is generally accepted as an extroverted, highly gregarious, cunning trickster type, i.e., kind of the opposite of Itachi's personality. I think Itachi would be drawn to people who fall somewhere on that spectrum: loud, feelings-forward, (sometimes, to varying degrees) politically savvy types who are either A) well-liked and popular or B) outcast pariahs doing their own thing and fuck everyone else. Ino and Shisui fall into the first category, and people like Karin and Deidara fall into the latter, but both types are very much "this is me, love me or hate me, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere and you get the immense honor of dealing with me" vibes. Whereas Itachi strikes me as more the type to bend and cave to the path of least resistance in order to go unnoticed or avoid conflict/confrontation with people if he can help it. He's duty and honor, and he needs someone who is like "but what if we got drunk and committed arson and then kissed a bit after". Having that person fill in the gaps in his personality and preferences would be exciting and probably also very frustrating for him, and I think it would hook him so hard.

Ino is someone I see as kind of a contradiction. She has all these cool abilities that allow her to read people literally, and a personality that, to me, seems very much the type to hone in on people's motivations and attitudes. At the same time, though, she is someone who is tunnel-vision determined to achieve her goals (I'm thinking of her in the 4th war in what I consider to be one of the most badass moments for any single character in the manga when she was like "I just have to do it!" re telepathically connecting everyone in the Shinobi Forces right after her dad died). If she decides to do something, it is fucking getting done, bar none. And if we apply that attitude to people, to figuring people out, we have someone who will dig and dig until they draw blood and still keep going. She deals in lies and secrets and neither are safe from her. Pairing her with someone like Itachi who is the cream filling in a roll cake baked out of lies and manipulation is like...both the best and worst thing I can do to either of them. Plus, she is that politically savvy social butterfly who would drag him out of his mission, mission, meticulously steam clean my ANBU uniform, mission, repeat cycle to live his life a little bit. She likes being in charge and running shit, and I think someone like Itachi, who has been sort of forced into that role his whole life whether he wanted it or not, would find surprising and intense relief over letting her take those reins so he doesn't have to deal with it for five minutes.

So idk if that really addresses your question. But this is sort of how I think about them individually and what that would look like when I smash them together Barbie doll style and make them kiss.