#all of it sets them up to save the people they love

[coolemmasulivan]

Love Wins (Even in Red) | 2

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reporter!Reader

Summary: Fate reunites them under the red lights of Old Trafford. Interviews are frosty, leaving people wondering why. Can Mason forgive Reader for something that happened in the past? Can she win Mason's heart and prove love wins even on red?

Word count: 2631

Read part 1 here

Author's note: Third part is going to be the last. My first language is not English.

And if it's right I don't care how long it takes As long as I'm with you I've got a smile on my face Save your tears, it'll be okay All I know is you're here with me

The stolen kiss hung heavy in the air, leaving you breathless and confused. You practically fled the club, a whirlwind of emotions battling inside you. Lost in the chaos, your feet carried you away from your friends. After who knows how long, the ache in your legs jolted you back to reality. Miles from home, you surrendered and hailed a cab. Twenty minutes later, you were back in your apartment, tumbling into bed and burying yourself under the covers.

After an hour or two, the sound of the front door unlocking made you shut your eyes. Clare's familiar footsteps echoed down the hall, stopping at your bedroom door. The knob turned, and the next thing you knew, the sheets were ripped away, revealing you bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window.

"Where the hell were you?" She demanded, her forehead etched with concern. "I've been calling you non-stop. You just left-- wait, were you crying?" The last question hung in the air as she saw your face illuminated by the moonlight. "What happened?" she asked gently, settling onto the edge of the bed beside you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, the memory of the stolen kiss replaying in your head. "Mason," you whispered, your voice thick with unshed tears. "We run into each other in the club."

"Oh, honey!" She reached out and placed her hands on your arm, offering you comfort. "What happened? Did he say something? I swear, if he hurt you..." Her voice trailed off, a low growl rumbling in her throat.

You finally opened your eyes, meeting her worried gaze. The harsh light of reality sunk in – you couldn't hide behind the sheets forever. Taking a shaky breath, you sat up, the movement pulling a fresh wave of tears.

"He kissed me." You blurted out.

Clare blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "Wait, what? He kissed you? And that's… bad?"

Taking a shaky breath, you blurted out, "Of course, it is, Clare. What if someone saw us? Whad if they use the kiss against me? What if it jeopardizes Lily?"

"Hold on," Clare said, her voice firm but laced with concern. "We thought they didn't have anything left after Lily's graduated from Cambridge."

You ran a hand through your messy hair, dread clenching your stomach. "They might not care. They might just want to hurt me. And the video can still cause damage to Lily's professional life."

Clare's gaze softened. "Listen to me," she said, taking your hands in hers. "This is your life, Y/n. You can't let them control you anymore. Maybe this kiss with Mason..." she trailed off, a hopeful glint in her eyes, "maybe it's a sign. Maybe it's time to take back your happiness."

When Mason opened the door, you could smell the scent of the food floating through the air, a warm invitation into his home.

"Hi," he said, his smile radiating warmth as he held the door open. He was wearing a black apron with splashes of flour, giving him a charming domestic look.

"Hi," you replied, your cheeks flushing slightly. "What's cooking?"

"Just trying to impress you with my culinary skills," he chuckled, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Come in."

Following him inside, a sudden wave of nervousness washed over you as the door shut behind you. This was the first time you'd been to his house, and the intimacy of being alone with him was setting off butterflies in your stomach.

"Let me take your coat," he offered, extending a hand.

You shrugged off the coat, and as he reached for it, you felt him brush against you. He hung your coat on a nearby hook behind you and instead of stepping back, he lingered close. His gaze dropped to meet yours, a hesitant smile playing on his lips

Then, in a move that stole your breath, he leaned in slowly and so did you. The kiss was sweet and tender and as he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with a playful glint.

Just as he leaned in again, you interrupted him. "Uh, Mason?" you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?" he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours.

"I… I think something's burning," you stammered, pointing towards what you assumed was the kitchen.

Mason's eyes widened comically. "Burning?" He shot a panicked glance towards the direction you indicated and with a mumbled curse, hurried towards the kitchen, the scent of slightly burnt food growing stronger with each step.

As you watched him panic and run away, you couldn't help but stifle a giggle. With a teasing smile already playing on your lips, you couldn't resist the curiosity that tugged at you as you slowly followed.

The sight that greeted you in the kitchen was pure comedy gold. Mason, clad in his flour-dusted apron, was glancing into the oven with a spatula in his hand. Inside the oven, you could see a burnt mess that was supposed to be a romantic dinner.

"Oh no." you drawled, your voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Looks like someone overestimated their culinary skills."

Mason turned around quickly, his face turning a delightful shade of crimson. "It's… it's under control!" He stuttered as he carefully removed the burned food from the oven. "It didn't burn that much. Right?"

Unable to hold back any longer, you burst into laughter. The sound filled the kitchen, chasing away the awkwardness. Mason, unable to maintain his flustered facade, joined in, a sheepish grin replacing his earlier panic.

"Well, Chef Mason," you said once the laughing died down. "I think takeout might be the safer option tonight."

Mason chuckled, relief flooding his features. "Agreed. How does pizza sound?"

"Sounds perfect." As he scrolled through menus on his phone, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him. The domestic chaos, the shared laughter, it all felt strangely comforting. "Hey?" you said softly, catching his eye. He looked up, his gaze warm and questioning.

Taking a deep breath, you closed the distance between you. With a gentle hand on his cheek, you leaned in and planted a quick, sweet kiss on his lips.

Mason's eyes widened in surprise before melting into a smile. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Maybe takeout... and a movie?" he suggested, his voice a husky whisper.

You grinned back, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Sounds like a plan."

The post-practice rush had subsided, leaving only Mason, Marcus, and Garnacho in the locker room. The stillness in the air was palpable, broken only by the steady sound of water droplets falling from the showers. Marcus, being wise as ever, noticed that Mason was behaving distantly.

"Seriously, mate, everything alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Mason jumped slightly, as if startled from a dream. He tried to smile, but it didn't last long as they kept looking at him. "Yeah, just haven't slept well."

Garnacho chuckled. "So it has nothing to do with Y/n?"

Mason's throat tightened. "Y/n? What? No, of course not." A flicker of annoyance crossed his features.

"Uh-huh," Garnacho drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Funny thing. I saw her this morning and she looked like she hadn't slept a wink either. Bags under her eyes, the same distracted vibe you got going on."

Mason's smile completely faded away, and was replaced by a look of sudden realization.

"She's here?" he blurted out, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah! She's interviewing Bruno."

Mason sank onto the bench, burying his face in his hands. He let out a defeated sigh. "The last time we went to the club… I run into her." he started, his voice barely a whisper.

Marcus and Garnacho exchanged a curious glance. "She was there?" Garnacho blurted, surprised. He knew Amelia wouldn't be caught dead in the loud, thumping chaos of a nightclub. She was very homie and very workaholic, a stark contrast to the flashing lights and booming music.

Mason's face flushed a deep red. "Uh, yeah," he stammered, avoiding their eyes. "The thing is… I kissed her."

The locker room went silent. His teammates stared at him, their amusement replaced by genuine surprise. "You kissed her?" Marcus finally managed, his voice incredulous.

Mason ran a frustrated hand through his still-damp hair. "Look, it was stupid. I'd had a couple too many drinks, saw some douchebag flirting with her at the bar, and…" He trailed off, unable to meet his teammates' eyes.

"And you lost it because you were jealous!" Marcus finished his sentence with a smirk.

Mason scowled. "No! It wasn't like that. We just… bumped into each other in the back hallway, and things happened."

Garnacho let out a suspicious snort. "Mate, come on. Don't try and deny it. It's written all over your face. You still care about her, even after what went down between you. Whatever it was."

A heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the distant voice of the staff working nearby the locker room. Mason finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper.

"The thing is, what she said after."

Both Marcus and Garnacho leaned in, their playful behaviour replaced by genuine curiosity.

"What did she say?" Marcus pressed gently, urging Mason to elaborate

"When I finally asked why she left, why she just walked away from everything we had… she said 'They made me.'"

Marcus and Garnacho exchanged a confused glance. "They made her?" Garnacho echoed, his brow furrowed in thought. "Who's they?"

"That's what I want to know." Mason said, his voice tight with frustration and a hint of fear.

You slumped back in your chair, the recorder switched off. The interview with Bruno had been insightful, but it felt like a distant echo through the fog of your worries. Bruno, a kind friend with gentle eyes, noticed the way your smile faltered and your shoulders slumped.

"You alright, Y/n?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. "You seem a bit… off today."

You attempted to smile, but it was clear that the smile was forced and insincere. "Everything's fine, Bruno. Just a bit tired, I guess."

Bruno wasn't convinced. He knew you well enough to see the worry etched into your features. "Is it Mason?"

"Why would you think that?"

"I know you have a history with Mason. Though he didn't tell me what happened, I can see that whatever it is, it's causing pain for both of you all over again."

The mention of Mason's name was like a dam breaking. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. Before you could stop yourself, a sob escaped your lips. Bruno reacted instinctively, reaching out and pulling you into a hug. His embrace was warm and safe.

"It's okay," Bruno murmured. "Let it out."

You clung to him, the tears flowing freely. Bruno didn't pry, he just held you until the sobs subsided into shaky breaths. When you finally pulled back, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, a raw vulnerability shone on your face.

Taking a deep breath, you poured out your heart to him. You told him about the blackmail, Lily's fear, and the impossible situation it had placed you in. You confessed your guilt over leaving Mason without explaining the real reason behind it, the burden of the secret a constant weight on your chest.

Bruno listened intently, his expression a mixture of sympathy and understanding. When you finished, a thoughtful silence settled between them.

"I think it's time you spoke to Mason, Y/n." Bruno said, his voice gentle but firm. "Keeping this from him is only going to make things worse. He deserves to know the truth, and maybe, together, you can find a way to make everything right."

You considered his words, a flicker of hope igniting in your eyes. The thought of facing Mason, of reliving the pain and tell him the thrut, was terrifying. But Bruno was right. The weight of the secret was suffocating, and honesty, however painful, was the only path forward.

The piercing sound of your phone shattered the peaceful silence of your apartment. Your heart thumped against your ribs as you glanced at the screen. An unknown number. Hesitantly, you answered.

"Hello?" Your voice was cautious. You hated answering calls from unknown numbers.

A low, distorted voice crackled through the receiver, sending shivers down your spine. "Y/n Y/l/n! Been enjoying Chelsea?"

Y/n's breath hitched. "Who is this?" You managed, forcing yourself to appear calm.

"Someone who knows a little secret about your beloved sister!" The voice exuded malice. "A little something that could ruin her life."

You felt a sudden surge of panic rising in your throat. Lily. "What are you talking about?" You demanded, your voice trembling.

"Oh, come now, Y/n," the voice scolded. "You don't know about that little video, the one of Lily… shall we say, being a little too carefree with a certain professor in his office?"

Your mind and heart were racing. Lily had never mentioned a video before, but being a rebellious teenager she didn't share much with you these days. "What… what do you want?" You whispered, your voice thick with fear.

"Simple, really," the voice replied with amusement. "We want you out of Chelsea. Pack your bags, say your goodbyes to your precious footballer boyfriend, and disappear."

"No!" The denial ripped from your lips. You couldn't leave Mason. You couldn't abandon your dreams and job.

"Then let's hope your sister appreciates your loyalty." The voice mocked. "Because if we see you anywhere near Mason again, that little video makes a surprise appearance online. Think about it! What would happen to Lily's future if everyone saw that?"

The call ended abruptly, leaving you struggling to cope with the silence. You cradled the phone to your chest, the weight of the threat crushing your heart.

The sting in your eyes couldn't compare to the nervous fire burning in your stomach. It had taken you a week to finally face the reality and gather the courage to talk to Mason. Today was the day, and nothing would stop you.

Practice would end earlier today, the perfect opportunity to catch him before he disappeared into Manchester's vast maze. You had changed your number a while back, and Mason's number wasn't on your contact list anymore, and you didn't know his new address. The training centre was your only opportunity.

Your anxiety had turned your stomach upside down. The lunch that you had earlier, which was already of questionable quality, made a fast and unwelcome reappearance in the toilet as you found yourself unable to keep it down. Wiping the cold sweat from your palms after you brushed your teeth, you muttered a mantra, "It's now or never."

"It's now or never, Y/n!" he boomed. "Swim with me, or be a pool princess forever!"

You pretended to scoff. "Princess? I like the sound of that, thank you very much."

He grinned wider. "Come on! The real fun's inside. You in? Give me your hand."

You hesitated. Taking a breath, you looked at him. "Now or never, right?"

He held out a hand, eyes bright. "Now or never."

You nodded and grabbed his hand. Water closed in, fear replaced by his warm touch. Maybe it wasn't just about swimming. Maybe it was about taking a leap of faith, with him.

Just as you grabbed your jacket, the sound of the doorbell shattered the fragile calm of the apartment. With a hopeful smile, you flung open the door, only to watch it quickly fade away.

"Lily?" There, standing on the doorstep, was none other than your sister.

"Surprise!"

Your stomach lurched. The familiar face triggered a fresh wave of nausea, and the last remnants of breakfast found a new, unwelcome home – on your sister's shoes.

Tags:

@bibissparkles @girlidekanymore @marialikescherries

#footballer imagine #footballer imagines #footballer x reader #mm7 #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/15/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika; Samson Kayo; Kay Buchanan; Nathan Foad; Watch parties; GLAAD LAST DAYS; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika.

== David Jenkins ==

Okay so I apologize all-- somehow I missed that all the David Jenkins pics going around were NEW. I don't know why but I thought they were from a while back. My taxes brain really has me messed up. So these are from the past 2-4 days. Now it makes a lot of sense too as to why everyone's been honking louder! You can see him there at WB Studios, and yes that is him with OFMD fan-stickers on his laptop.

Source: Kinga Malisz' IG

== Taika Waititi ==

A small glimpse of Taika and his ginormous doe eyes on the set of Klara and The Sun. Src: Vas J Morgan's IG

== Samson Kayo ==

Samson was out in Abu Dhabi U.A.E sporting his Prada Sun Glasses! Chaos Dad and Samba happened to pop into his comments as well! Thanks @ashes-skye for pointing out these great photos! SRC: Samson's Instagram

== Kay Buchanan ==

Our lovely leatherworker Kay Buchanan posted lots of cool things today on her instagram! Stede's Dagger Sheath

Next up was the Gunpowder Pouches for OFMD

== Nathan Foad ==

Some first shots of Nathan in his role in #LovesLabourLost! Src: Royal Shakespeare Company IG

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Flight Of the Conchords ==

Season 1 is done! Season 2 starts tomorrow with Episodes 1 and 2! Join Save OFMD Crew, and @/ iamadequate1 this week for Flight of the Conchords watch parties! You can watch each day at 4pm PT, 7 pm ET, 11pm BST! If you don't have access, feel free to join us on the #RhysDarbyFaction Discord server, you can hit me up for an invite.

Hashtags:

#FlagOfTheConchords

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== LAST CHANCE FOR GLAAD ==

Voting closes in two days, get your votes in while you can! Remember: you can vote more than once. 😉🏴‍☠️

IMG Src: @saveofmdcrewmates

== Fan Spotlight ==

One of our crewmates @/RabinaryCode on youtube has put together this cute Queen Parody for Rhys! Give it a listen if you have some time :) Vocals: @ferventrabbitao3

Lyrics: @tanteclem

== Cast Cards ==

To quote @melvisik "Tonight is Ian Alda (yup, related to Alan Alda) playing the clerk... reads notes Clark Clerkwell... person who told Stede he's dead "

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I hope you all are having a fresh start to your week. I've heard good news and rough news, so I truly hope if you have good news, it stays that way and if you have bad news, it looks up for you!

I really am so glad to see people clowning though. I know no one wants to get their hopes up, but it's nice to see that kind of energy flowing through the fandom again. We deserve a little treat of hope once in a while and it warms my heart how much people are running with it.

Hope is the dream lovelies. All things spring from hope. Don't give up on it. Even when things feel the worst, hope is what keeps us going. I have so much love for you friends. I know we have our bad days, but I hope you know that no matter what happens me and the crew will send you love. We love sharing this space with you. Rest well lovelies. Some quotes about hope tonight:

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience." - Emily Dickinson

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Sorry, tonight's theme is just... this interview because every time I see it it makes me smile so horrendously huge. I love them so much and certainly together like this. The goofy bastards. Gif Courtesy of @captain-flint

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #our flag means death #ofmd #rhys darby #taika waititi #david jenkins #chaos dad #samson kayo #ofmd bts #kay buchanan #nathan foad #watch parties

[mae-gi-writes]

Arch-nemesis . Gally (themazerunner)

There's a thin line between love and hate, especially when it concerns Gally.

A/N: I've re-watched the three Maze Runner movies and now I'm obsessed and getting back onto the TMR fantrain so bear with me and the future fics I've already got saved in my drafts TT 3 TT ------

You hate him with all your heart.

Truthfully, honestly. There isn’t anyone you hate more than this stupid asshole that thinks that he’s the centre of the earth.

You met him only when he’d been brought in by Lawrence and a few of his other guys, having been there just for a few weeks prior. Thinking that this might be your chance to make a new friend, you’d sidled over to him with a small smile as you asked for his name. That didn’t go as smoothly as you thought when he just grunted out his name in response and turned away from you like you were a pest instead.

But it isn’t just that. It’s the way he says your name in that really aggravating tone that grates at your nerves. It’s the way he always insists it’s your fault when you’re out on missions and come back with no updates. It’s the way he bullies you and calls you names whenever your paths cross and it makes you want to gouge his eyes out. It’s enough to say that you know Gally now and you know exactly what he’s made of. That, and the fact that you’d stay far away from him as you possibly could if that was an option.

“You’re loading it up wrong shank-face,” he’d tell you as you were re-filling your gun.

“Shut up Gally, I’m doing it properly.”

“Don’t come crying to me when the gun doesn’t work.”

“It’s none of your business if it doesn’t work.”

“It is my business if you’re gonna—“

“Right that’s enough,” your mentor and leader called Jared had to step in, like he did numerous times, to get you to cool off. You’d storm away in a fit of annoyance and irritation, hating how easily Gally got under your skin.

It’s been a few weeks since weird sightings of stray immunes have circulated the area and in reply to this, Lawrence had set you up for a mission with Gally to scout the outer walls of the Last City. That had only caused you to grumble about the unfairness of the situation.

“Why do I have to go?” Your eyes narrow at the familiar tall figure lingering in your peripheral. Gally is busy setting up his weapons as you try to plead your case, seemingly uncaring about your protests, “and with him of all people? We don’t work well together Lawrence—“

“Everyone else is taken or busy with other tasks. Meaning that only you two are free,” Lawrence cuts you off without a hint of sympathy, “so either you do as you’re told or you can leave Y/N. As simple as that.”

In the end you have no choice but to abide by his rules, strapping up your weapons and defenses before Gally calls out your name. You turn just in time to catch the water bottle he sends your way, yelping in the process.

“You’re looking a little distraught, shank-face,” he smirks at you from where he stands loading up the provisions, “scared of what you’ll find out there? If you ain’t good enough, just don’t come and waste people’s time.”

“Nobody asked for your opinion, ugly brows.”

“I’m just worried you might slow me down. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t ask for one, now will you shut up and stop talking?”

“I’m surprised these two haven’t killed each other off yet,” murmurs one of Lawrence’s men.

“Killed or kissed you mean,” Jared lets out a chuckle.

These words are enough to cause the others to look at him with shocked faces, “what do you mean?”

“Isn’t it clear?” Jared motions towards the two currently bickering, “bet that by tomorrow night these two will get together.”

“I bet they last a week before they kiss.” Another says.

“Oh come on, I’m betting two weeks. Gally isn’t that type of guy.”

“What about me?” Gally’s voice causes them all to shut up, looking at him with guilty smiles and with shakes of their heads.

“Nothing to worry about Maze boy,” Jared flicks him off with a wave of his hand, “now off you go, both of you. And I expect some good news when you return.”

“Of any kind,” someone adds quietly, to which they all cackle.

You’ve toured the city a million times before in search of any kind of entrances that might lead to the inside, where all of Wicked laid. So it’s nothing out of your depth to follow Gally around as you survey the area and scout for more sources of information.

In all honesty, touring with Gally isn’t that much different from anyone else. On the contrary, Gally’s determined nature conjoined with his natural physical ability to excel just renders him an even more ideal battle partner. Not that you’ll ever tell him that. It will surely come bite you in the ass later when you least expect it.

You’re almost at the perimeter when you notice something off about one of the citizens. It’s a little girl, her face contorted in a grimace as she holds her hands in front of her tummy. For a moment, she sways in the middle of the crowd and you’re about to dismiss it, when another figure stalks in and takes a swipe at her with a stick.

The girl yelps as the stick hits her knees, crumbling to the floor like a sack of bones.

Before you know it, you’re sprinting towards her, anger flaring through your chest as your hands steady themselves on the gun. You barely hear Gally’s voice as you stumble in front of the kid just in time to point your weapon at the older man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hiss at him.

The man’s eyes widen. He takes a step back, “no no, get away from her, you don’t understand—“

“Understand what? That you were going to beat her to death?” You click your gun into place, “nice try old man, now tell me—“

“Get away from her!” He yells at you, “she’s not normal! She’s—“

And a growl erupts from behind you. You swivel around in panic, eyes going wide upon noticing for the first time the dark patch close to her eyes.

The Flare.

The girl twitches. A small sob falls from her mouth. Your heart jumps to your throat, stumbling back half a step as weird animalistic noises echo from her mouth.

And then, she pounces.

You yell out something— you’re not too sure what — and are about to knock her on the head as she throws herself at you—

A bullet explodes on the right side of her brain and she falls to the ground like a puppet.

You stare at her for a minute. One more.

Your gaze slowly trails up to see familiar booted feet.

“What were you even thinking?”

Gally’s voice is usually deep. But this time, even you can’t stand up to the anger simmering in his voice. It’s dark and holds some kind of laced savagery that makes your toes curl in apprehension.

He takes your silence as guilt before grabbing onto your arm and roughly pulling you out of the crowd. He doesn’t stop and for once you don’t fight him, still not over the shock of seeing that poor girl’s face, the crazed look in her eyes. You’re so deep in your thoughts that you don’t realize you’re at your truck until Gally practically throws you against its side.

Your back digs into the metal and you grunt at the impact, the ache stinging your spine. But before you can do anything else, huge palms come to a rest on either side of your head.

Gally leans into you, so close that you can feel the heat radiate off him in waves.

“What the fuck was that about?” He growls, voice dropping even lower.

Somehow, it causes a shiver to run up your spine. Not one of fear, something else. Something that makes your stomach squeeze into knots.

“I—“ for once, you don’t seem to have any words. Instead your head turns away from Gally’s eyes as you bite down onto your lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” He scoffs, laughs to himself before his gaze hardens once more, “sorry for what Y/N? For almost getting yourself killed? Are you insane?! She could’ve literally infected you and you—“

“I didn’t know she was infected.” You tried to protest.

That seems to aggravate him even more, “You didn’t even bother to check!” His nostrils flare.

“Well I said I’m sorry!”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it if you turn into one of those Cranks you stupid slinthead! You need to be more responsible! I literally turn away for one minute and you’re—“

“Oh stop exaggerating Gally. I was trying to protect her—“

“Yeah and look how that ended!”

You snap, “why are you so pissed? It was an accident and I already said sorry!”

“It’s not just that Y/N!” He yells with such emotion that his face flushes red, “What if I wasn’t there? What would you have done then?!”

“Why the fuck do you care? You wanted me gone—“

Your words cut off in mid-conversation when his large hands suddenly cup your face before pulling you in to crash his lips against yours.

Your eyes widen, brain freezing, as butterflies erupt through your stomach.

Wow.

Is this what a kiss is?

And this is Gally, kissing you like he means it.

It's almost like time has stopped.

Heart pounding, your body slowly melts against his. You’re in a trance-like state, watching yourself crumble under his fingertips that he places right under your jaw, his other hand sliding down to your hip to pin you in place.

The kiss is surprisingly gentle yet firm. His mouth moves slowly, hesitantly, almost like he fears breaking you. And yet, when you respond with a soft movement of your own, the rumble of his chest has your stomach squeezing with adrenaline.

You’re not too sure what’s happening. Here you are, with the world’s biggest dick, kissing him like he’s your lover when all you’ve ever wanted was to kick him in the face for being a class A asshole.

But it’s weird because this, however, feels so right. Like you’re meant to be locking lips, like he doesn’t want anyone else in his arms but you. And when he cages you in his hold with even more intensity it makes you gasp, causing him to slip his tongue into your mouth with an ease that has you parting like melted butter.

Slowly, your hands trail up to his chest, grabbing hold of his dark tunic and tugging slightly as his teeth suckle onto your bottom lip. A noise echoes from the back of your throat and he growls in response, pressing you even harder so that your head tilts back against the truck’s surface.

You need air at some point and so break away from him with a small gasp, chest heaving.

Gally doesn’t hesitate. He dives down to press a kiss to the side of your jaw, down your neck, imprinting his mouth over your skin over and over again in a way that has your body shuddering with delight. Big hand sliding down to the back of your neck to pull you even closer into him, the young man’s lips find a soft spot at your pulse point, causing a whine to fall from your lips at his action.

His chest rumbles in satisfaction and before you know it he’s back to kissing you. This time it’s more heated; mouths clashing and teeth clicking and tongues battling.

And then, the reality of the situation hits you straight in the face.

You freeze. What in the shucking world are you even doing?

You’re making out with Gally, right beside your truck. In broad daylight.

The thought alone makes your hands push him away and your lips disconnect with a small ‘pop’ sound.

You’re gasping for breath at this point, eyes wide as they flutter up to lock onto his own and you’re surprised at what you find there.

There’s some sort of softness, genuine care and something more, something darker that you can’t really put your finger on.

It makes you want him.

You want him.

Shuck’s sake.

“Y/N—“ Gally starts but you’re already moving out of his hold, slipping away from his warmth and suddenly it feels a little too cold.

You shake your head at him, decide it’s best to keep your eyes away as you open the door to the passenger seat, “let’s go. We have a mission to finish.”

You don’t want to talk about it.

————

It’s been days.

Days since the incident.

Days since you’ve been trying to get Gally out of your head.

You don’t understand why he’s having such an effect on you. Theoretically speaking, you should’ve bashed his head in and turned him over to Lawrence for sexual assault.

But you haven’t, and he’s also probably questioning why.

As a result, you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him. You wake up thirty minutes earlier to eat your breakfast so that you don’t have to bump into him at the table, you take the first errands that come to you — the boring ones like refilling tanks and getting the food supplies and guarding their premises. All that so that you don’t have to deal with Gally’s bullying.

Well, not that you’ve heard from him much either.

“What happened between you two?” Jared asks one evening as you help him move the supplies fresh from the last raid from the Last City.

“What?” You stare at him blankly, “what are you talking about?”

“You and Gally. You had a fight or something?”

“When are we not?” You snort, though you can’t deny the flush creeping up your neck as the memory of Gally’s body against yours resurfaces.

“Well I know you fight, but you’ve been ignoring each other.”

“And? Why is that a concern? Shouldn’t you be glad there’s less noise?”

“You’ve got a point I suppose.”

You don’t tell him it’s because you’re nervous of all the things that keep flashing through your head. You don’t tell him about how you keep on thinking of Gally’s mouth on yours, the lingering taste of him like a ghost along your lips. You don’t have to and you don’t want to, because you know that it’s going to entertain an idea far too surreal and ridiculous for you to think about.

It isn’t until a few days after your little mishap that Gally finds you in the storage room. You’ve woken up early to help the newest recruit unpack the food supplies just loaded into the main building dock, only to find out that he had this massive crush on you.

So you’ve been trying to bat him off all morning despite his most desperate attempts.

“Just give me a chance Y/N,” he says as he takes a box from your hands with a wink, “I promise I won’t make you regret it.”

You snort, “no thanks,” and turn back to keep unloading.

But he makes a grab for your hand. You yelp, pulling it out of his grasp, “what do you think you’re doing—“

“You think you’re so tough huh?” He makes another grab for your forearm this time and cages you into his grip. You try to wriggle out to no avail, his fingers squeezing so hard that you let out a cry of pain, “ow—“let me go, asshole.”

“Not until you agree.”

Your glare deepens, “I said no.”

He pulls you closer, stinky breath washing over your face and making you want to barf, “did I tell you how sexy you are when you try to act all tough and shit? I mean that’s literally—“

“Get your hands off her.”

He freezes. You do too. You recognize that voice. You could've recognized that anywhere. Your head tilts over.

Gally.

Oh.

Eyes widening at the sight, you quickly pull your arm away when the newbie drops it in shock.

“Move away,” Gally’s voice drops an octave and causes a string of butterflies to erupt through your chest, “now.”

The newbie frowns, “Who’re you to boss me around?”

“I said: Now.”

And maybe it’s the fact that Gally seems to straighten when he says it so it looks like he’s towering over the other boy, but the latter mutters a curse word under his breath and finally relents, throwing you a scowl in the process as he ducks out of the storage room.

You can’t help but lock eyes with your savior, though quickly averting your eyes in embarrassment as you resume stacking boxes after boxes. You hope that he’s just going to turn around and act ignorant, just like these past few days.

“Y/N.”

You don’t answer, resolutely trying your best to act busy.

“Y/N.”

Maybe it’s the way he says your name that makes you turn impulsively. Your eyes flit to his face, then look back down to his chest. A safer bet, “what?”

He takes a step closer, and another, and another. You swallow thickly, feeling your throat clog up with emotion as you stumble back against the boxes until no escape seems available.

Why is it that you’re always getting trapped by him?

“W—What is it?” You stammer out in hopes he can’t hear how wild your heart is beating, "What do you want?"

He lets out a soft sigh and seems to drop his shoulders in defeat, opening up his palms in a sign of defeat, "I just--I think we need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Y/N--"

"No Gally," you whip around then with eyes narrowed into slits and your fists curled beside you, "if this is about what happened in the Last City, I don't want to talk about it. It was a stupid shucking mistake and--"

"Stop using Glader slang," he interrupts like a smart-ass and you all but growl at him in irritation, "it doesn't suit you."

"Oh shut up already," you whip around and decide that it's useless to try and have a civil conversation. You'd rather focus your energy on finishing off your task.

But seems that he's determined to bug you, for you feel the warmth of his hand imprint itself on your forearm before he's tugging you. Not too harshly, gently enough that you could've stopped if you wanted to.

You let yourself turn around, cursing inwardly at how the closeness between your two bodies is rendering you a little breathless, a little weak in the knees. He's so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him, and what you see in his gaze makes your heart skitter.

"It wasn't," he murmurs, "a mistake."

"It was a mistake," you shoot back straightaway, "we can just forget about it--"

"I don't want to. I--" he clears his throat, looks away for a second. And when his eyes find yours once again you feel your breath catch in your throat because he's looking at you in a certain way. That way. With the same kind of tenderness that makes you want to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest and smell the earthly, Gally scent that had wrapped around you back when you'd kissed--

No.

You almost smack yourself, horrified. What in the world are you thinking?!

"I like you, Y/N." Gally’s voice jerks you back to reality, “I like you a shuck lot and—“

“Don’t,” you press a finger to his lips as you try desperately to put some distance between, shaking your head in horror, “no no, you don’t like me. You like me ‘cause I’m the only girl around here and it’s just your hormones talking—“

He shakes you off, “what are you on about?” He frowns before grabbing both your hands to cage them in his grip, “I know what I feel Y/N. Don’t tell me otherwise—“

“Gally please,” you scramble for coherent thought but logic is slipping away by the second. Even more so when he’s tugging you gently to him, even more when his face is a picture of softness and affection, “we hate each other’s guts—“

“I never said that.” He pauses to read your expression, fear suddenly flickering in his expression, “do you hate me?”

“I—“ the words get tangled in your mouth. You want to tell him you hate him, loathe him with all your heart and that you just want him gone and that you hates his kiss.

But you can’t.

Because it’s a lie, the truth is that you think your heart beats for him. You’re not sure since when, but that kiss had confirmed it surely enough: you like Gally more than you think you do. And that thought is terrifying.

You’re so close to him that if you let your hands drop they’ll brush against his chest, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your skin and the heat of his jody permeating to yours.

Ducking your head in embarrassment, you bite down onto your lower lip.

“Answer my question, Y/N.”

You swallow thickly, “I—I don’t know.”

Gally looks down at you still, not giving you the easy way out you would’ve preferred and you find yourself crumbling under his stare.

“No,” you whisper, “I don’t hate you.”

He shifts a little closer still, eyes flitting down to your lips in a silent question.

Your breath catches. Your mouth parts. His scent wraps around you like a soft cocoon.

And then you’re lifting yourself up to kiss him.

He makes a noise of surprise at the back of his throat and you grin to yourself, loving that you caught him off guard. But that doesn’t last, for his big hands quickly drop yours to wrap around your waist before pulling your body to his and kissing you like he hasn’t seen you in ages, like he’s missed you, like he wants to do this forever.

Gally, you soon realize, kisses with his entire intention, not leaving one part of your mouth untouched and adamant on making you go pliant in his hold. You allow yourself to back up as he prods you, until your back hits one of the storage boxes hazardly stacked one atop the other, and Gally doesn't hesitate to press his chest against yours as a soft moan echoes from the back of his throat.

As his lips curve against yours in the most intimate of manners, your hands seem to take on a life of their own as they travel up his chest, caress the broadness of his shoulders, before wrapping around the back of his neck and teasing the soft baby hairs found there. You feel him grinning into your mouth and soon enough you're grinning too, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath.

"Not bad at all," Gally murmurs, stealing a kiss from you and causing your face to flush deep red, "for someone who can't load a gun properly."

"I can too load my gun properly," you pinch him playfully and he responds with laughter.

That's when you hear your mentor's voice booming with surprise from the front entrance of the storage room:

"Well look what we have here! I told you guys they wouldn't last a week!"

#gally #tmr gally #gally x reader #gally maze runner #the death cure #tmr thomas #tmr minho #tmr newt #tmr imagines #the maze runner #the scorch trials #gally x you #gally imagine #gally headcanons #gally scenario #gally scenarios #romance #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #the maze runner imagines #the maze runner headcanons #tmr fanfiction #tmr x reader

[adisillusionedauthor]

Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? She decides to surprise him at the paddock and because there are so many people, she almost collides with someone on a scooter (drivers maybe?). But James seeing her early, decides to be her knight in shining armor and save her and someone captures that exact moment on their phone/camera. The next day, the news about them is everywhere and everybody's crazy about it. Just something fluff and cute. Thanks!!! :))

The sweetest couple on the paddock - James Vowles

Pairing: James Vowles x Wife!reader

Requested by: Anon

Masterlist<3

Warning: fluff, bad English, cute moments, cute couple, reminiscing, wedding memories, first date mentioned.

Word count: 529

As I walked through the paddock, simply looking around, nowhere to go nor to be at the moment, I’m waiting for James to finish an interview about his expectations on this weekend’s race. I was walking with earphone, so I didn’t hear Alonso’s warning to leave the way of his scooter, but the only thing I fell is two strong arms wrapping around me and pulling me into a strong chest, my head collides with the chest, instantly I’m filled with a comforting scent that I recognize without needing to look up, my arms instinctively wrap around him: “Thank you for saving me.” I whisper to him before kissing his cheek softly and resting my face on his shoulder: “Honey… I love you, I would never let anything happen to you, my princess.” He kissed my forehead softly, his lips staying there for a second before he showed me that handsome smile I fell in love with, I smiled back at him lovingly. Then we hear the cameras clicking and we remember where we are, he wraps only one arms around my waist and starts guiding me to his office so we can have some privacy to talk before going home.

“Okay… So they might have caught us in a… Private moment? I don’t know, that’s definitely going to the internet-” He started rambling, but I interrupted him: “And…? Honey, it’s not like we have never had a sweet moment like that one before, we’ve never hid our love from the public, I don’t think one sweet kiss on the forehead is going to change that, and besides we look lovely in this picture” I say smiling at him lovingly, showing my phone with the news ‘Sweetest couple on the paddock, yes or definitely?’ He laughs softly at the headline, then he sees the picture and his smile widens, we really do look like the most adorable couple in that picture. I downloaded the picture and set it as my lockscreen: “Send it to me, I want to use it as my background as well, this picture reminds me of our first date.” He says smiling at me lovingly, our first date was one of a kind, the weather cast said it’d be sunny all day, so he planned the most perfect picnic date, we’d go and sit beside a lake, eat and he had bought us movie tickets for a movie I said I was really excited to go watch, but suddenly it started raining, so he looked at me apologetically, apologising for the rain destroying our date, after I reassured him that it was not his fault at all and that I still enjoyed the date, I knew back then he was the one for me. He told me on our wedding day in his vows that he also knew the moment I didn’t blame him for our date being ‘ruined’ by the rain that I was the one for him, in his words: “That day, I knew I had found my soulmate, the one I thought only existed in fairytales, the one I would gladly look for in every life. My one and only, my princess.”

#f1 fanfic #fanfic #fluff #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #cute #adorable #james #vowles #williams #logan sargeant #alex albon #f1 2024 #williams racing #williams f1 #alexander albon #australian gp 2024 #james vowles x reader #james vowles #williams accidentally reveal their 2024 driver line up with logan sargeant seemingly set to stay #williams formula 1 #f1 gif #f1 gifs #f1 imagine #f1 fic #fernando alonso

[skepsiss]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Eddie seeing the patches from his old vest onto a new less ruined one after I made that post about his PT—so my prompt for you is Steve helping Eddie resew his new vest (but he’s not really helping he’s just kind of there for kisses and emotional support hehe)

I took a little more into the "actually helping" realm, but it's still fluffy sweet. Other people can send me prrrommmppptts too! --

Eddie had never done something like this with someone else before. Sewing his ripped jeans, bags, and battle-vest had been a solo venture thus far, but it felt strangely intimate to be getting help with his new vest. The old one wasn't salvageable, but Eddie had managed to save some of the patches and pins to start again. This wasn't his first battle vest, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but he had hoped to hang onto his old denim. It wasn't to be though, so Eddie had thrifted a second (or third) hand denim jacket and ripped the sleeves off to start all over again.

"What's this one?" Steve asked, handing over a pin Eddie had gotten from hanging outside a metal show he couldn't get tickets for.

"Bad Brains," Eddie explained, taking the yellow button and running a thumb over the red lightning bolt that streaked across the front. "From New York, I think. I traded for it; no one really plays their stuff on the radio."

Steve nodded like he was going to retain any of that as Eddie debated over where to stick the pin. He settled on the front right pocket and then turned the vest over.

"You want to help sew the back patch?" Eddie asked, grabbing the swath of fabric he had cut from an old band-T. He hadn't been able to get the blood out of his old DIO patch, and while 'the bloody look' was cool, something about it made Eddie squirm. He didn't like that it was Steve's blood, or that the stain had made part of the album art unreadable.

So, DIO was retired, and Eddie instead centred his new Megadeth patch on the back of his vest.

Eddie handed over a needle and thread to Steve and then cut himself his own length. He strung the needle easily and tied it off before setting to work. Steve seemed to be taking his sweet time, and Eddie eventually glanced at him to see what the hold up was.

Steve was still gingerly trying to thread the needle, his brows pinched with frustration.

Eddie snorted lightly before turning the vest around so it was facing Steve.

"Here, you continue my line, and I'll finish this," Eddie teased gently, finding Steve's inability to thread a needle charming.

"Is it too late to say I've never done this before?" Steve asked, picking up the needle and thread Eddie had left behind and stabbing into the fabric.

"I can tell," Eddie chuckled, easily starting to work again. "You don't have to, you know. I don't mind just having some company."

"No, it's alright," Steve said slowly, obviously concentrating as he tried to stick the needle up through the patch. "What're boyfriend for?"

Eddie felt a syrupy smile spread across his face at Steve's words, his stomach tumbling around inside of him. He was still getting used to Steve calling them 'boyfriends' and Eddie couldn't help how giddy it made him each time. Sure, it had been nearly a month, but it still made Eddie feel like he was a blushing fifteen-year-old.

"If you insist… love," Eddie said, keeping his gaze down. He was trying out a new pet-name and he wasn't really sure if it was pushing things a bit too far. Love or My Love was such an intimate title, but Eddie had been thinking of it for a while now. He saw Steve pause at the use of the new nickname though, and waited for him to say something.

"Ow---Jesus," Steve said instead, and Eddie looked up to see him holding his hand up, a ruby-red bead of blood forming on his finger.

"Ah…" Eddie said lamely, smiling still as he reached over for Steve's hand. "Sticking yourself hurts."

"Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious," Steve bitched, letting Eddie take his hand.

"I thought you'd be a bit more durable… you know, with the whole… missing a chunk of your stomach, thing," Eddie teased gently, putting his lips to the wound on Steve's finger much the same way his mother would have when he was a child.

Steve didn't reply to Eddie's comment, instead sitting there quietly and letting Eddie suck on the tip of his finger.

"You want a band-aid?" Eddie asked, pulling back just a bit and then cheekily pressing his tongue against Steve's finger, holding it there with his mouth open.

"Yeah, a band-aid----what are you doing? Don't be weird," Steve chuckled, still not resisting Eddie's grip.

Eddie quirked a brow at him and pulled back, before huffing a laugh.

"Look who you're talking to. Weird is practically stamped on my forehead," he scolded, before licking Steve's finger again for good measure.

"Alright, alright, fair. We get it, Count Dracula, can we grab that band-aid?"

Eddie chuckled again and then scrambled to his feet, trotting off toward the bathroom, but not before turning around and sticking his fingers in front of his lips to replicate fangs.

"I vant---to suck yer ddiiiiccck," he teased, smiling wide when he got an honest belly laugh from Steve.

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things

[mixtape127]

worlds colliding ☆ pt.1

genre : non!idol mark lee x male reader, college au, ennemies to lovers ?

summary : what if you - kinda - had to save the world and Mark was your sidekick ? or — you need to give out fliers for a class, and Mark doesn't care about "global warming."

warnings : strong language, mark is kind of a douchebag but i swear he's sweet, not proofread yet

words : 1.6k

notes : i love this story sm, it's been in my drafts for so long and it was supposed to be about p1harmony, but i like it with mark too ! might make it in more than just 2 parts if you guys enjoy it as much as i do ! and btw, english isn't my native language, so i really do hope i actually wrote well and if i made dumb mistakes, i'm sorry :((

currently listening to :

"thank you, please look forward to it !" y/n says, bowing multiple times, a smile enlightening his face, watching the group of students walk away with fliers in his hands. "i hope to see you there tomorrow !"

it must have been around 9:40 a.m., a chilly morning for a spring day. the sun was shining, the clouds were absent. the green leaves were showing, some still falling on the grass of the campus park. the students in short sleeves were out again, and the jocks were taking advantage of the cooler weather to work out outside. y/n looked up, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight. he felt cold, his bones shaking. his poor denim jacket did not cover his bare arms, and his jeans with holes in them did not provide any warmth either. he smiled to himself, seeing some birds migrating elsewhere, formed into a triangle.

he blinked a few times, returning to his emotionless face, before continuing to approach some of the students in groups to give them the rest of his fliers. but none of them seemed interested, and y/n began to lose hope. his business professor had made it clear that if he couldn't get at least 20 students to donate, his semester was over. this was his last chance, and he wasn't about to let it go. his displeasure gradually began to show, the creases in his face deepening. the more people walked around him, the more his hands tightened around his fliers. it's one thing for them not to be interested, but for them to ignore him like this is another.

for a moment there was a flutter, no one was coming out or going in. he took the opportunity to catch his breath, closing his eyes.

"one... two... three..." he whispered to himself, focusing on the soft whistle of the wind.

when he opened them again, he saw a figure facing him approaching the doors of the art building behind him. y/n thought to himself that this was fate, that this boy was almost arriving with a glittering halo of light behind him, signifying y/n's last chance. he took this opportunity and approached the guy, feeling confident.

"hey, how's it going? i'm handing out fliers about globa-..."

a brief gust of wind caressed the skin of his face. again, no response. the boy stalked his way, his headphones screwed to his ears, only giving y/n a small glance. he stood there, watching the boy's back as he walked away. he finally admitted to himself that this time, his pride had been shattered into a thousand pieces, and someone had come to trample it right after. he noted in a corner of his head that he didn't like the idea at all. but it was without realizing it that his legs responded alone, quickly approaching the young black-haired student. he patted him on the shoulder vigorously and handed him the previously crumpled paper in his hands when the latter turned around.

Mark, on his side, put on a bewildered face, one eyebrow raised. he was sure that he had deliberately ignored this boy just a few seconds ago. his day was not starting very well. his dog had chewed on his last pair of freshly bought shoes, his roommate — Donghyuck — had finished his favourite cereal and the hot water had been turned off on his floor. then finally his bus... never came, so he set out to walk to the university, realizing halfway there that his wireless headphones were out of battery. he'd wasted about ten minutes buying wired ones just to survive the rest of the day. and it was also at that very moment, coming out of the convenience store, that he promised himself he'd keep a spare pair of headphones in the bottom of his bag, just in case.

he took out one of his headphones, and uttered an extremely nonchalant "what? i'm late." he didn't mean to sound mean or disapproving, but the day was already taking its toll on him. he almost wondered what kind of people were picking on him so much, and for what reason? had he been too mean to the salesman last night, when he asked him to get out of the store because Mark was singing EXO's music at the top of his lungs? was he too dismissive of his singing teacher when she told him to stop doing 'too much'? and then, what do you mean 'too much'? Mark really didn't like that word, even less when it described his singing.

y/n, on the other hand, waved the paper in front of his nose. he was frustrated with his morning, especially with the way people responded to him. and especially the way Mark said 'what'. he wondered why people were in such a bad mood in the morning. he let out a breath to regain his composure before starting.

"before you cut me off, i think taking this won't hurt you. i'm really passionate about this cause, so i will give you this flier. and if i have to shove it down your throat, i'll do it." he pressed the piece of paper against the boy's chest in front of him. "thank you, and have a great day."

y/n bowed before rotating drastically, turning his back on Mark. he put his hand on his heart, which was now pounding in his chest. not because the black-haired boy was a living god, but because he felt he was getting carried away and tangled up in his words. how people see him matters a lot to him, even if he doesn't talk about it much. and he knew that this interaction was going to play over and over in his head tonight and keep him awake.

"what a fucking weirdo..." Mark muttered once y/n was far enough away.

he clutched the flier in his hands before resuming his journey to his class, which was really about to start. what do you mean 'i'll shove it down your throat'? he shook his head from left to right, pushed open the door and quickly dashed down the left corridor, hitting someone in the shoulder on his way.

Mark hardly turned around, just to give a weak look to the brown man who was bending while getting lost in excuses, and he took a quick walk to room 208. once in front of it, he opened the door and quickly sneaked to his place, at the back left of the room, managing to pass out of the radar of his teacher, who hadn't even noticed his absence until then.

once seated, he took out some of his things, not forgetting his bottle of fresh orange juice, something he bought every Tuesday morning to give himself luck during that long day. Tuesdays were never really his days, always bad and gloomy. he wasn't superstitious, but if Tuesdays could disappear completely, his world would be much better.

as he took his notebook out of his backpack, the flier given to him by y/n slid silently to the ground. Mark bent down to pick it up, not failing to roll his eyes as he placed it back on the table. but his eyes were drawn to a large headline.

"THE WORLD IS SLOWLY ENDING, BUT YOU'RE THE HERO, RIGHT?"

he chuckled silently, before turning the paper over to see the back, finding that there was nothing written on it, and crumpled it up in his hand before tossing it into his backpack. saving the world was not in his plans. not today. 

maybe tomorrow... who knows? and he did. he saved y/n's world, in some sort of way the day right after.

"it will serve you better than me."

y/n blinked a few times, frowning in front of his phone, which was playing a summer song, although outside, it was raining damn heavily. he wondered if the voice came from someone talking to a friend behind him, or from his headphones. but the whistle sound in his right ear brought him back to reality. he let out a faint "i'm not a fucking dog-" before looking at the umbrella someone was holding upon his head, then at a guy with brown hair. it takes some time for y/n to connect the dots — maybe because of some sort of poor eyesight — but when he does, his mouth opens up wide.

"you're the guy from yesterday that said "what" so nonchalantly it made my day way worse than it was already !"

Mark rolled his eyes. "i'm trying to save the world, being a hero, i'm landing you my umbrella." with a devilish grin, he removes the umbrella from above y/n's head. "but if you want, i can leave too."

"i'm surprised you read that flier you hated so much." he mutters.

y/n did not know if he should accept, but after all, it won't kill him and it will keep him from getting sick. even though he loved hanging out in bed instead of going to class, getting sick was one of the things he hated the most.

"thanks a lot... um... what's your name?"

"Mark."

he took the umbrella and put it over his head while nodding, repeating Mark's name quietly like he was getting used to it. their eyes met again before Mark got swept away by Donghyuck's reminder that the bus was there and it wouldn't wait for them. he let himself be swept away, and a minute later, y/n's silhouette evaporated in the distance, through the mist on the bus windows.

Mark was lost in thought. and he noticed that his name sounded pretty coming out of y/n's mouth.

#Spotify #nct #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #mark lee x reader #mark lee x male reader #nct 127 #nct dream #nct x male reader #mark lee #mark nct #mark is a bad boy #and we live for it #mark lee x y/n #haechan

[morallyinept]

hi can you recommend the best way to break into the fanfic world on here? i'm new, yay, and don't know how the tagging system or anything works

thank you in advance!!

Hello Lovely Non! 🖤

Oooh! Exciting!! YAY! 🎉🎉 Firstly, welcome, welcome. How wonderful it is that you wanna write and share something with us all, that's so cool! ✨️

Look, Dieter's excited too!

I suppose the best way to break in, is to take the leap. I know, groundbreaking advice Jett, right? Hehe! 😆

From experience, these are all things I've learnt and had guidance on myself during my time on wacky Tumblr, so here are my pearls of wisdom for ya...

So you've written the fic. WOO! 🎉 Now what? Well, firstly, have a treat. Some cake or vodka, or both. You've earned it. 🍰

Then, when you're no longer hungover and throwing up cake, do these things:

And make yourself a banging banner of some kind, or use a picture/GIF. I'm personally more likely to be drawn to a fic to read if there's a cool banner, or you've made a mood board or have a GIF. Kinda sets the tone, you know? We love a bit of the ol' aesthetic. Like a bookcover, we're immediately drawn in with our eyes. Be creative, go nuts. Use the free trial of Canva to go design crazy.

Check it through for grammar and spelling as much as you can.

You can always have someone beta read it for you. And look at your formatting to ensure you don't have massive spaces between your paragraphs etc... When I copy and paste into Tumblr, it screws up the formatting from Google docs, just to test my already thin thread of patience further, no doubt... 😑 It's not a massive deal, but I guess presentation is a hook in itself, right?

Beware of glitches when saving your drafts on Tumblr too. The app especially loves to auto-post it when you hit save, 🤬 so double check you're saving it in draft, not in post, before you're ready to post it to the world.

Everyone has their owns tastes and comforts when reading fic, and quite rightly so. Variety is the spice of life. 🌶 And look, you'll NEVER please everyone. So don't even try. But what is important is that you give the reader a choice to read it or not.

⚠️🚫🔞👉🏻👌🏻 Ensure you list any trigger warnings.

Look, there's this age old debate that continually surfaces on whether we should list every single trigger or warning in our fic, or should we just... not? 🤔

The simple answer is, it's up to you, ultimately. Not everyone does this or feels the need to do this. I mean, published books don't, right?

HOWEVERRRRR. And it's a capital letter however. There are so many people who won't want to read stories about certain topics. Age Gap, Anal, Noncon etc...

Kinda looks like a sandwich to me... I'm hungry 🥪

I personally won't release a fic without listing all the triggers as I don't want any of my readers to encounter something that could be triggering for them later on. Yes, to some degree it can give away "spoilers" but it's up to you as the writer ultimately about how much you want to give away. If you fic contains Age Gap, you can simply write "Age Gap."

Use the Read More/Keep Reading divider.

It looks like this on the app:

Some people write a paragraph or two before they place it on, others hide the whole fic and just leave the intro/warnings etc... on show. How you do it is up to you, but please, please use it!

Nobody likes to scroll through a whole chapter of 10k+ words trying to get to the next post... nobody. Cue ranty Anons in your mailbox if you don't. We've all been there and made that mistake. 😬

Plus, using this will also hide any explicit or triggering content from immediate view. People more than likely won't read your fic if you don't have one of these on it.

# Tagging

Tagging - to tag or not to tag?

Tagging is a massive topic, but essentially it boils down to two types of tagging.

Tagging using a # which is at the bottom of each of your posts, and tagging people in your posts by using the @ and then their username.

So say, for example, you've written a Joel Miller fic.

Oh, hey Joel... we're talking about you handsome, not to you.

You can tag it "joel miller" or "joel miller tlou" or "joel miller x reader" etc... People can follow the tag, so they'll see your work in it if they're following it.

If you search the tag on Tumblr it'll tell you how many people are following that tag too, so you'll know which ones are more popular and will be seen by the most eyes.

Currently (as of writing this response) the 'Joel Miller' tag has 225k followers! 👀 So if you write a Joel Miller fic, you deffo want one of your first 5 tags to be that one!

Someone's popular, eh Joel?

@ Tagging

He loves it really.

☝🏻Note that the first 5 tags you use are the ones that Tumblr actually uses to make your fic show up in those tags too. You can put up to 30 tags on a fic and yet Tumblr only counts the first 5. Dumb, I know. 🤦🏻‍♀️ The rest is just for your own use to find it again on your blog.

If you search your own blog using "Joel Miller" everything you've ever posted with Joel Miller will come up. So you can use your own tags or words for yourself too. I use "Jett's fic recs" for example, when I re-blog someone's fic so I can find it again.

⚠️ And you can use tags to highlight triggers too, for example you can write "tw blood" for a blood warning. (tw = trigger warning) People can block tags so certain things don't show up in their feed as a way of shielding themselves from content they don't want to see/read. So if I've blocked "tw blood" I won't ever see your fic, even with all the other tags you use.

So be mindful of how you tag, not only for yourself, but for others too.

And essentially tags are how some people choose to comment and interact with you. Some people write mini fics in the tags! It's really quite fun. Just remember, there's a limit of 30 tags per post and put your best 5 first.

You can also tag users! You can offer up a tag list to users who you think might be interested in reading your fic (feel free to tag me, I'd love to read it!) A lot of writers have a bunch of regular readers who they'll tag @ username on their works. They're called tag lists. Readers may reach out to you to ask to be tagged too.

There's no shame in hyping your own work - you wrote it, be proud of it! 🙌🏻

Others choose not to do this and instead create a side blog for notifications of their works. It's up to you how you choose to do this, but if you tag specific people, chances are they're going to read your work because they want to.

You can tag up to 50 users on a single post, I believe. (Or at least it's 50 users and 50 links when I do my fic rec lists) I think it varies if you're on app or desktop. Someone will correct me if I'm wrong... but there is deffo a limit.

Reblog your own work for time zones.

So, I'm in the UK and the majority of my followers are in the USA, so when I'm in bed snoozing away, they're awake and reading smut at work.... 😏 So I'll schedule my fic to release at various points in the day and night so everyone can see it on their feed.

Keep it circling too, I'll go back and re-blog older works when more people follow me so they don't miss out. And as a writer, you'll want people to love your older works as much as the new.

And finally, some basic etiquette...

Please don't be disheartened if your fic doesn't get the traction you want right away.

It does not mean that your writing isn't good. We all started in the fandom with 0 followers and 0 reblogs. Its important to remember to write, first and foremost, for your own enjoyment. The right people will find you and love your work, it just takes a bit of time.

You can jazz your fic up with dividers and GIFs. Just ensure you give credit by @ tagging the person who made the divider you're using, if you choose to use one, and use the GIF search function on Tumblr for your GIFs, as they auto tag and credit the creator of the GIF for you. And that way, everyone stays happy. ✌🏻

And finally...

Interact with your comments and reblogs. People took the time to read your work, even just a simple thank you back is always appreciated and well received.

Re-blog, re-blog, re-blog what you love!

The like button is for bookmarking only. It does absolutely nothing to make posts get seen like it does on other socials. Re-blogging is what gets yours and others work seen and put on people's feeds on Tumblr. If you want people to re-blog your own work, you'll need to give back and re-blog theirs too. Tumblr is all about sharing in the form of re-blogs.

Love you! 🖤

✨️HAVE FUN!✨️

I'm so excited you're here and can't wait to read your fics! 🤗

Apologies if any of this you may already know, I just wanted to share what I've learnt in abundance.

And if you have further questions, feel free to reach out. I'm no expert, but I'll try and help if I can.

And if anyone else has any tips/hints/advice etc... feel free to share in the comments.

#jett's asks #pedro pascal #joel miller #dieter bravo #new writers yay! #welcome!

[redsparrow2117]

"The End of the World is a Product".

I don't normally make....any posts, but the Fallout show, and some of the response to it has me wanting to actually put some words down here. There will be spoilers for the Fallout show if you want to avoid that.

Several people whose opinion I respect a lot have their own thoughts on the show, Amazon making it, and general disappointment with where Fallout as an IP has gone in the several decades it has existed. I agree with a lot of these statements and think that Fallout peaked with New Vegas, and Bethesda's ownership and usage of the IP has been uninspired at best.

That said, I did watch the show. And generally, I liked it. I have some complaints (like, wtf if the Brotherhood even doing? Who is really in charge? The writers *blew up* the NCR, just like that? For....some reason?) The main thing I have an issue with, is the dissonance between the message of the show, and the company that made it.

I think the parts that really made the show were Coop's flashbacks to before the war. I love his character, so much. And from Coop, The Ghoul, I get my dissonance.

We see him interacting with general Hollywood. It's basically the same as ours. Despite what Some People(tm) will say, Hollywood is a tool of the United States Machine. An extension of the country's will. Coop is making a cowboy movie, one of many he has made. He expresses being uncomfortable with his new movie's seeming obsession with killing, not wanting his character to kill the villain when he is begging for his life. The director tells him "people want to see a good man pushed too far." We see later, after the war, Coop made the movie the way the director wanted.

Coop's wife works in marketing, or something like it, for Vault-Tec. Coop likes the idea of the Vaults at first. Save people from the end of the world. Good stuff, thinks Coop. He was in the Marines, fought at Anchorage. He believes in protecting people and his country. So when his wife asks him to do an ad for Vault-Tec, he says yes.

Very quickly, he leaves making movies, and basically now works for Vault-Tec. Has a big party, invites a bunch of his friends, and only one of his acting friends shows up. Says everyone else declined on moral grounds, because they don't like Vault-Tec, and all the other mega corporations working with them or around the world. Coop's friend mentions he sold his voice/a character he created to the company that makes Mr. Handy's, and how everyone and everything is a product now, and embracing that is the only way to make money anymore. "You're a product, I'm a product, the end of the world is a product."

Coop later meets one of his acting friends, Charles Whiteknife, to talk about the party and why he didn't go. Charles brings up Vault-Tec, the mega corporations, and "Fiduciary Responsibility". I never, ever, in my mind would think a Fallout show, executive produced by "Thanks" Todd Howard, would bring that up.

Charles lays it out for Coop: Vault-Tec makes money selling Vaults. If they want to make money, then everyone's fear of the end of the world is really what is for sale. The end of the world is the product.

So no peace talks to calm down the war between the US and China. No safe feeling. They need fear. They want to make money, so you cannot feel safe. We see a prelude at Coop's earlier party: two Vault-Tec executives are talking about heading off those exact peace talks before anything definite is done so quarterly profits go up. Even the president is mentioned as missing, but that could be a kidnapping or a reference to the Enclave.

Coop doesn't want to believe that. Why would his wife work there if that was the case?

We see, as the flashbacks go on, how much she knows, but won't give away. She needs her job so her family can get into "one of the good Vaults". Coop ends up spying on a meeting between his wife, a Vault-Tec exec, and a bunch of major corporations and private entities. A nice cameo set up for big fans. We see West-Tek, Big MT, ROBCO, all of them. Vault-Tec wants them to buy into the Vaults, so they can make money.

So they can control the end of the world.

They think a total monopoly in the post-apocalypse will save the world from war.

Then the real reveal: Vault-Tec, in order to make guarantees on their experimental Vaults, and to make guarantees to the investors, is going to drop the bomb. Maybe not all of them, but definitely start the Great War.

Because it will make them money now, and when the world is over, they can rule over the ashes with a gaggle of experimented-on, traumatized survivors, brainwashed to do what they want, and led by the preserved executives that helped end the world.

"Well, thanks for the spoilers, RedSparrow, but what is the point?"

Well, when people write about the future, like George Orwell did in 1984, or Ray Bradbury in Fahrenheit 451, or even Suzanne Collins in Hunger Games, they weren't really writing about the future. They were writing about the problems they dealt with in their present, exaggerated to make them stand out.

"What happens when the cattle ranchers own half the town?" Charlie Whiteknife asks Coop when they meet at the bar.

"The town burns down."

"Exactly. The ranchers are in charge now."

This isn't really new stuff for Fallout, if you have played any of the games beyond 3,4, or 76. (Hell, 76 tries to act like Vault-Tec are the good guys for some stupid ass reason.)

We now live in that moment. Maybe we didn't when Fallout 1 came out, or maybe it was easier to hide then. At this point, it's nearly impossible to really ignore, and anyone saying that is incorrect or a good thing is just burying their head in the sand to avoid the truth.

Maybe we don't have Vaults, or Vault-Tec, but we have Amazon, selling us everything and grinding employees to dust on vague promises of earning a living.

We have our own ROBCO, and the CEO of our version of ROBCO bought Twitter because his ex left him for a trans woman and is currently trying to sell losers online his idea of a sex bot and shitty cars that rust and explode.

We have social media monopolies that live off of hate-engagement and spreading fear. Hell, the US government is banning social media platforms they can't control, and privatizing things like internet access through Starlink. Elongated Muskrat tried to cut off Ukraine's access to it after one of their generals told him to shut up and stop sucking up to Russia.

None of this is new. I'm probably sounding like your weird boomer uncle online right now.

But your weird boomer uncle doesn't think they will end the world.

But they will.

So here's the dissonance I struggle with: why is Amazon, one of the many companies enshitti-fying everything right now, making a show that tells you the plan?

It's easier to imagine the end of the world, than it is to imagine the end of capitalism, so the saying goes.

But the end of the world is the plan of capitalism. That's the end goal.

And it's wild to me that the Fallout show, made by Amazon, is the one telling us this.

#fallout #fallout spoilers #the ghoul

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

“Passed Alger Brook Road, I'm over the bridge.”

Remus never thought he’d be sitting on this train once more. In this moment, he’s 14 again. The hills roll by and if he closes his eyes, imagines just hard enough, he can still hear the clamouring and giggling that used to belong here. The train is empty, save for Remus, a special trip just for him. In the worst way, this is all too familiar. Like the trunk remembers the axe, Remus can’t help but feel he is gently travelling towards a terrible thing.

“A minute from home but I feel so far from it.”

Remus had lived in London for so long that the Welsh had been bleached out of his accent. Hope and Lyall were long gone, finally resting. And Remus was alone. Home had always been where his heart had lived. Never Wales though, never a place, always a person. Cariad. Cariad. Cariad. With every beat of his heart, Remus knows where home is. He thinks of James and Lily and Harry. He thinks of a home that once belonged to them.

“The death of my dog, the stretch of my skin.”

He thinks of a home that belongs to him, of a basement with a torn up mattress and a master bedroom with a leather jacket hanging on the back of the chair. Remus could never understand how people could one day lock a door and never open it again. Until he did. Slowly, the cottage grew to be too much, bore a weight so goddamn heavy that Remus shouldered it all. That house held the three people he loved, “love” his mind corrects him. He wonders whether in 11 years of solitude, that house too, would be reluctant to see him again.

“It's all washin' over me, I'm angry again.”

In a way, only Remus could understand why James and Lily had to die. Unfortunately, there is always a greater good. There is always someone, ‘something’ his mind hisses, greater than him. The rage is dormant now. The war is over. Remus knows loss incredibly well, walks hand in hand with her most days. Instinctively, he tightens his grip on his thigh. It serves as a reminder. You survived the war. You lost everyone you love. You are real. You are neither punished nor the punisher. Not anymore.

“The things that I lost here, the people I knew.”

Remus takes a walk along the length of the train. Nostalgia’s sake and all that. The open compartment doors rattle gently and the seats are vacant. For some reason, Remus half expected to run into a brick wall at King’s Cross. He doesn’t know how to exist in this space again, how to walk the halls of the castle without feeling like a ghost instead. Mostly, Remus doesn’t know how he could look into James’ faces and Lily’s eyes again, and see them on someone else.

“They got me surrounded for a mile or two.”

Logically, he knows “No.” is as good an answer as any. He made sure that there were no more favours, no more secrets. Remus knows that from 11, the castle cared for him. He also knows that care and respect go hand in hand. He has no debt to the castle but he does have duty to fulfil. For every man who obeys his duty, there is another who cannot. A prison cell briefly flashes in his mind, then a cupboard under stairs, then a set of silver handcuffs.

“The car's in reverse, I'm grippin' the wheel.”

The train shudders and stops. The sky is dark. Remus’ eyes are closed. He inhales deeply and lets muscle memory take over. His steps now echo down the empty train carriages. He is just as tall as the last time he stood here. This time, he leaves behind four giggling boys. He leaves behind the weight of a head in his lap. The image is superimposed into his eyelids. Remus hopes that everything that ever existed still exists in moments, even though we don’t get them back. The doors slide open and he steps onto the platform.

“I'm back between villages and everything's still.”

For the second time in his life, Remus John Lupin has the sudden and crashing realisation that he is totally and utterly alone.

#harry potter #marauders #i couldn’t stop thinking of them and this song #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #wolfstar #remus lupin #this one has a kick to it #this one right here officer #Remus centric

[swallowedbyfandom]

Watching Penelope grieving James is a special kind of torture. He has never had the strength to watch Pen cry, even as children her tears always sent him into a panic. On the one hand, as her oldest and dearest friend, he wants to shelter her and her babes in his arms until her heart hurts a little less. On the other hand he is so desperately, hopelessly, and devoutly in love with her that any comfort he offers her makes him feel like an opportunistic cad.

His heart is so heavy with guilt because as much as it hurts him to see her suffer, his foolish selfish heart, also cannot help the ember of hope that someday she may learn to love him again. God, what sort of person thinks like that? He cared for James, even considered him a dear respected friend. He always admired how James put Pen first. That he chose her then took on God, Queen and Country to have her. James was a man of remarkable convictions and fierce loyalty. God, Agatha and Thomas will never know how great a man their father was, they will not even have memories of him as a cold comfort. He must look for the letter James sent him with the birth announcement waxing poetic about how extraordinary little Agatha was. He will have set it aside for safe keeping to save it for her.

Penelope is not recovered enough to travel to Scotland and with almost all the Bridgerton ladies pregnant Pen opts to hold the Memorial for James in Kent. Colin sits with the rest of their family with Agatha asleep in his arms in the packed church and watches in awe as Penelope stands unfaltering at the alter a picture of regal devastation. He is reminded once more that Pen is the same girl that held the whole of society in the palm of her tiny hand at 17. The power Lady Whistledown possessed over words as a young girl is even more finely honed as a woman in grief. Standing in the ashes of her happily ever after Penelope captivates once more with the moving eulogy she delivers about her husband. Colin can see that even Cressida Cowper is moved to tears. If that is not a sign of Pen's immense talent, he doesn't know what is. He was unaware that harpy even had tear ducts.

He watches his mother and Fran hold Pen's trembling hands throughout the rest of the service. He has no idea how she remains so stoic as he can see in her eyes how fragile her control is currently. Disgustingly, he knows half the people at the memorial service are there to gawk at Lady Whistledown rather than to pay their respects to James Debling husband, father, and Earl. He hates how these degenerates have turned Jame's memorial into a spectacle. James deserved better, so does his family.

He knows Pen will crumble on the carriage ride back to Aubrey hall. She will never give the Ton the satisfaction of witnessing her tears no matter the circumstances. She is so gloriously strong that way. His family close ranks around Pen and Agatha during the receiving line and the entire morning thereafter.

Watching Portia Featherington shame gawkers who attempt to approach Pen is a welcome surprise. He knows Portia has never forgiven Penelope for the Whistledown enterprise, not even when Pen less graciously pointed out that if not for her income they would have ended up on the streets. A sympathetic nod is exchanged between Portia and Pen then nothing more.

He spends that evening at his father's graveside mourning for James, Pen, Aggie, Thomas, and himself. He promises himself that he will be patient. He will set his desires aside and just be her friend, her support. He will have a lifetime to love her but first he owes it to her to help her find joy again without expectations. He knows mother and Hyacinth are planning to stay down in Scotland for the next year to help Pen and to spend time with Fran and the baby. He will likely join them, he will speak with mother to see what would be best.

He watches Pen's resilience grow as she scratches and craws her way through debilitating grief and exhaustion to play doting mother and aunt for the children during the day only to succumb to her loss at night. She gets better at it, not that the grief lessens but she learns to function around it. She is with mother at Francesca’s side in the delivery room a pillar of bossy support and love. John Penn Stirling is born on 20 February 1818 at Aubrey Hall to the joy of all.

Colin knows once Fran heals and little John hits 3 months the Stirling and Debling families will head back to Scotland. That will allow mother enough time for Kate and Daphne to give birth. He wants nothing more than to keep the Debling family safe and secure on his family’s estate but he knows Pen will be headed back to Scotland to care for James’ mother and aunt.

Watching Pen tearfully part from his siblings, nieces, and nephews is terrible but watching his siblings part from Agatha and Thomas is gut wrenching. Anthony will never admit it but Agatha is his favorite, she can often be found climbing up into his lap to cuddle and nap. It is hilarious to see the fearsome Viscount Bridgerton seated at the head of the family table attempting to be stern with a tiny blond cherub passed out on him. His siblings almost always plop Aggie into his arms when he is getting frustrated with them, because they know her adorable dimples and her lisped attempts to say Anthony's name always turn him into a pile of mush. No matter how often he has heard Pen bemoaning his siblings for weaponizing her daughter he always catches the humor in her eyes at the sight.

8 months after James' passing shorty after settling into Scotland for the year Colin receives a letter via lawyer from James.

01 September 1815

Colin,

You may be the only other person in the world who understands the honor and the privilege it is to love and be loved in return by Penelope Featherington. She is special our Penelope, I knew from the first moment she smiled at me. I looked into her eyes and thought I have been waiting for you all my life.

It took me 27 years to find Penelope, there was not a force on earth that could have kept her from me once I found her. I was prepared to do battle with you for her hand while I was courting her, but you never realized you were in love with her.

It was our astute Penelope, who cleared up the confusion for me. She told me that you both have spent a decade with your lives so intertwined with one another that it was difficult to see where one began and the other ended. That while you had love for her you had not the experience to understand what that love was. She told me she didn't want to spend her life waiting for you to go out and gain experience in the hopes that you would come back to her. She wanted to live her life to the fullest. She said you were her first love but timing was never your strong suit.

She wanted to build a future with me, travel, have half a dozen children and grow old with me. How could I do anything other than fulfill her wishes? I thank God every day that, that extraordinary woman found it in her heart to make room for our love to grow. Everyone believes Penelope's gift is words but I believe it is her empathy and her ability to love that makes her so incredible.

If you have received his letter then I am dead. I hope I got to give Penelope more than a handful of years together.Do not let her heart go to waste, Colin.Protect her, do not let her stop living, help her heal, and then man up and give that remarkable woman we both love all she deserves. If we have children together love them for me, please.

Sincerely,

James Debling

#bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

[gunsandspaceships]

Tony’s Childhood. Part 2.1. Effects: Own Will

Before this part, be sure to read Part 1.

If you're not aware of Tony's strange understanding of the importance of his own wants and needs, check out this post from daydreamsandnightlights.

Here I will try to explain the roots of this behavior.

At age 4 Tony built his first circuit board (IM1)

At age 6 built his first engine (IM1)

Let's think about what it meant that he built all these things at such an early age. Was this his own or his father's will?

Let’s take Morgan for comparison – she is indeed a brilliant kid too, since at the age of 5 she can count up to 3000 (ordinary kids count up to 1000 at the age of 8), knows how much is in a ton, what “disintegrate” means and can easily manipulate her dad, a genius.

Looking at Morgan's behavior, we can assume that she is already capable of building a circuit board under the guidance of her father. But she doesn't. Because her father does not demand this from her. She is a kid. She plays with plush dogs and beavers, sleds on Captain America’s shield, and likes to have bedtime stories read to her before bed. She sneaks into her father’s garage because there are interesting things inside that she can take and play with, not to build something and add it to the list of impressive achievements.

The question is: did Tony want to create things because he liked it, or because his father did it and wanted his son to do the same?

We know that Howard had plans for Tony to "change the world" with Howard's ideas about the future. Apparently, he was preparing Tony for this purpose.

Do small children have a desire to tinker and build things? Some yes. Do they want to or should they play with cubes and constructor sets? Yes. Do they want to or should they work with real motorcycle engines and soldering irons? Hell no. They usually don't have the appropriate motor skills to do this, so they can easily hurt themselves. I'll talk more about this later when I discuss his pain tolerance.

I think it’s impossible to say now whether Tony was interested in engineering from that age (I mean sincere desire, not ability). So we cannot answer that question. But I doubt 4-year-old Tony realized what he was doing when building computer parts. He liked it though. Because those were probably the only times he spent time with his father.

Howard continued to deny his son his will when Tony was sent to boarding school when Tony was 7 years old. There he had a regulated, planned life for 7 years. Then college for another 7. And then became the youngest CEO at 21. None of this sounds like a child’s “I did what I wanted”.

He did not express his will but pleased others. Because this way he received a little love. Or a substitute for love, to be precise. And when, perhaps for the first time, he was taken care of by Yinsen, who saved him, even in such a terrible way, and died for him, he was incredibly grateful. And after that, his attitude towards people changed.

But not the attitude of people towards him, since they continued to want something from him, expecting the same behavior that they were used to seeing from the “rich and famous”.

*Doesn’t want to celebrate his birthday with a bunch of strangers in his house? Wants to spend his last days with the woman he loves? DENIED*

*Needs psychological support from people he trusts? DENIED*

*Wants to save the team from a breakup because he cares and knows what’s coming? DENIED*

Conclusion: Tony didn't belong to himself his whole life. He didn’t use to defend his own, laid deep within, interests. First, his will was moved aside by his father’s. Then Stane’s and the public’s. Fury then came with his Initiative without asking what Tony wanted. Then S.H.I.E.L.D. came to him (not) asking to find Tesseract and save the world. Then the whole team came. Then the government with its Accords, and so on and so forth. None of them bothered to ask, “What do you want, Tony?”. And the only times he insisted on something, were the times when he tried to keep the team together and prevent their death.

#tony stark #iron man #marvel #mcu #the avengers #captain america civil war #avengers age of ultron #iron man 3 #pepper potts #avengers endgame #captain america #morgan stark #psychology #iron man 2 #howard stark

[sitp-recs]

do you have a fic rec where harry healed his trauma and then he met draco who still feel so shameful about himself, so then harry helps draco to heal his war trauma? thanks in advance! 💓

Hi anon, what a great ask! I love the idea of them bonding over shared trauma, and I think the best fics exploring this theme are the ones showing that healing is in fact an ongoing (and often non-linear) process, in this sense they’re always healing together 🥹 here are some fics that came to mind, most are down & out Draco but not all of them. Enjoy!

Slow Hands by eleventy7 (T, 10k)

Blood, shadows, and paper hearts. The Shadow hunts students, but Draco Malfoy most of all.

Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael (E, 11k)

Draco wants to do something to get his life back on track, but no-one seems to be taking him seriously – until he finds himself in an Auror training session led by Harry Potter.

Said and Unsaid (or, The Value of Knowing When to Stop Talking) by bryoneybrynn (T, 15k)

When the Interrogator asked if he had anything to say on his own behalf, Draco shook his head, his lips pressed tight in a thin line. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t sound like an excuse.

The Years That Walk Between by Femme (E, 16k) - past Draco/Snape

Draco finds his way after the war.

Between Myth and Man by slytherco (E, 16k)

Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning.

Benevolence and Redemption by silvered_glass (M, 19k)

Draco's the most unlikely Auror recruited to the department in at least three centuries. Ostracised and unwanted, he's been on paperwork duties for the three years since he finished training. Harry is the Saviour of the Wizarding World with nice forearms and too-large hands who suddenly starts turning up in the Ministry gym when Draco’s there, and sitting on Draco’s desk, and asking for Draco’s assistance on cases.

Vale Sanare by RurouniHime (M, 23k)

Draco’s world gains a new component just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Strange Bedfellows by ravenclawsquill (E, 30k)

When Harry encounters a frail and fidgety Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, he just knows something is wrong and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it. A story about Deadly Nightshade, crippling insomnia, excellent wine … and finding what you need in the strangest of circumstances.

Open For Repairs by FeelsForBreakfast (M, 5k)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things. feat. sad boys in jumpers and more ABBA than is probably necessary

As Souls From Bodies Steal by Femme (E, 41k)

Hope may be found in the oddest of places, even in the bleakness of winter.

(We'll Call This Fixer-Upper) Home by @phdmama (E, 52k)

Draco Malfoy hasn’t set foot on English soil in ten years. After the war, he fled to America, where he found himself in a community, and healed himself through following his heart into music. He’s now the lead singer and songwriter for an internationally known band, who have come back to headline the Wiltshire Music Festival. But as Draco is about to learn, his past isn’t as far away as he might have believed, and his future may hold more than he ever could have dreamed.

Super Rich Kids by trishjames (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

At Your Service by Faith Wood (E, 95k)

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There's only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Nor All That Glisters by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 110k)

Lonely and frustrated on house arrest, with no prospects for the future, Draco begins brewing Felix Felicis in an attempt to improve his lot. Just in the short term, of course. He isn’t a total idiot.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (M, 114k)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #war trauma #Harry helping Draco heal

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Hey i love your blog thank you for doing these imagines!

Can i request an half dragon beastkin reader x Izutsumi? Maybe they found them chained up somewhere in the dungeon and laios and them set them free?

Of course dear anon, and congratulations on being my first izutsumi focused ask

The dungeon held many secrets in its labyrinthian halls, Secrets of magic ancient and powerful, Secrets of Shady Deals among less than savory criminals, Secrets of viscious monsters, Secrets of life and death, But some secrets....were much darker than others.

As the group was travelling they heard a strange sound, it sounded like a person in trouble so they followed the sound to its source. It was a iron gate in the ground with a chain on it, around the gate were the bodies of various criminals who seemingly had been killed by an orc raid. As chilchuck and izutsumi listened they heard labored breathing and quickly laios broke open the lock on the chain as they opened the door, there eyes widening at what they saw

A beastkin looked up at them, They had hard reptile scales that covered there body, large clawed hands and feet scraped at the stone floor as a large tail moved behind them, large horns adorning the figures head. You looked up squinting your eyes and covering them, it had been so long since you had seen light.

Izutsumi was the first to notice, large chains were wrapped around your limbs and neck keeping you trapped in place. At first nobody moved, afraid that you were some sort of criminal or were dangerous. Laios asking you why you were down here, you explained that the thugs outside kept you chaine dup down here to show off to other people as a freakshow for coin, normally they would be guarding the gate but you heard them get attacked by orcs and they all must have died. You honestly figured you were going to die in this whole, left to starve to death.

Before anyone could react izutsumi grabbed chilchuck and jumped down into the hole. She put the half-foot down and told him to pick the locks on the chains to get you out now! everyone was surprised at how urgent she sounded, marcille asking what was going on with her. She scowls saying she know what its like to be shown off like a freak and she isnt going to let anyone deal with that.

Everyone agrees and chilchuck picks the locks as you feel the weight of the chains slide off you, you stand up showing just how tall you were compared to everyone else, cracking your neck as you breathed a sigh of joy at your newfound freedom. You tell laios your in there debt and want to help them on there adventure to save his sister, and you join them from then on.

You got along well with everyone in the group, of course laios kept asking you questions about being half dragon but you didnt mind. But it was izutsumi you seemed to be the closest with, She often spent her time being near you. The two of you chatting and talking about being beastkin. Her explaining how it was forced on her when she was a little child and cant remember anything before it. Normally she wouldnt talk about this with anyone...but your different, you get what she has been through, and she feels more comfortable with you than anyone else. You put your hand on her shoulder and comfort her telling her that your sorry she has gone through all this, and that hopefully you guys can find a cure for this curse on her.

You two began to grow closer, She moved from sleeping in the same cot as chilchuck to sleeping with you in your cot. Her commenting how your body is alot warmer than chilchuck and your perfect to lay on top of and fall asleep on. Whenever she falls asleep on top of you, you cant help but put one arm around her and drift off to sleep rather quickly, since she started doing this you have never slept better.

Whenever senshi cooks food she is always sneaking the bits she doesnt like into your portions of food, now having a place to dump the veggies she doesnt like. You are always more than happy to eat them for her, and in return you let her have some of the stuff she does like from your food. you two basically sharing food portions together.

The two of you are incredibly protective of each other, any time the group fights a monster you two are close by each other. Fighting in unison and defeating the monsters that the mad mage sends after you. And when either of you gets hurt, the other one cant relax until whoever got hurt is better. Izutsumi tries to play it off, but her tail will constantly flick as she sits next to you as marcille heals you up.

One night when you two are laying together, Izutsumi is up much later than she usually is. You could tell she was tense about something so you ask her if everything is ok. she hesitates for a moment before speaking up. "yeah it is...its better than ok, thats the problem. Ever since i met you i just...ive never felt like this before you know? ive never really cared about anyone else but myself, after all im the only one thats ever been there for me all my life...but its different with you. I cant stop thinking about you, i worry about you when you get hurt...and i hate not being around you. But it makes my chest feel tight and my head fuzzy when im around you and i keep smiling, im not used to this and i dont know what is going on. Im not used to it and...im scared, ive never felt like this and its so weird to me...i really like it..but it feels so weird i just..." She trails off, her tail flittering as she hides her face in your chest, even through her fur you can feel her blush. "i think i really like you...i really like you alot. But im scared, ive never liked anyone like this before and im scared cause im so used to just being by myself that....that the idea of being with another person all the time and relying on another person scares me, but i really want to be with you, even the idea of depending on another person scares me,but if i dont say anything its going to keep eating me alive.." she said looking up at you, You look at her stunned for a moment. This was unlike her, izutsumi was never one to be open about her emotions. She always did what she wanted and didnt care about what anyone else thought, she was a self reliant woman and other than with you she was never really the friendliest person ever. So to see her being so open with her feelings, being open about her fear and being so vulnerable was something you never expected from her.

You squeeze her tight towards you, your tail wrapping up with hers as as you place a soft kiss on her forehead. you tell her that you feel the same about her. That you love her and the idea of being with her is something you have dreamed of, and that you want nothing more than to always be there for her. You promise her that you will always be there for her and she never has to deal with the world by herself anymore.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #izutsumi #izutsumi x reader

[pinksiames]

Headcanons for my wives

These are just my current headcanons, will probably keep adding onto them later

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

An absolute brat. Something that people gloss over a lot (not a headcanon just a fact)

He tries to keep quiet when Paul’s overstimulating him but ends up whining and moaning like one of the sex slaves on Geidi Prime

Sometimes if Paul is being exceptionally sweet he feels like he’s back in his Uncles bed, his fat hands trailing over a younger body, he hates it when Paul’s soft with him

The trauma that this poor boy has suffered but hasn’t coped with, sometimes the smallest things could set him off, either in a fit of rage or breaking down into sobs.

He won’t tell anyone but he loves the feeling of the female fremen garments feel on him

He absolutely loves dressing to the absolute nines and showing as much skin as he can when Paul hosts parties

He gets extremely turned on when Paul’s threatening his life, holding a blade up to his throat or the scar that he had given him during their duel, he cums completely untouched once when Paul dragged the blade across his neck

Gale Cleven

Absolutely loves being touched by Bucky but cannot stand anyone else touching him

He’s just as much a cat person as he is a dog person

He steals buckys jackets and shirts all the time, he loves how they smell and hang off of him slightly

He hates bulking when working out, prefers keeping himself lean and slim vs huge and bulging

He cooks all of their meals, breakfast lunch and dinner because Bucky cannot cook to save his life

He hates it when Bucky calls him his housewife (no he doesn’t he absolutely eats it up)

He’s absolutely the loudest between them, because he goes through everyday being quiet and reserved he’s gotta let it out somehow

He lingers in the mirror looking at the bruises and hickies and scratches Bucky left on him the night before

He prefers getting rawdogged over anything, as long as Bucky is in him and keeps him full he’s a happy man

#austin butler #feyd rautha #dune #gale cleven #john egan #mota #headcanon #just a lil something #might keep adding on

[masterqwertster]

Ok don’t publish it if you don’t have to but man this weekend is bumming me right out with this “

Yeah, there is certainly some aggression going on against people wishing for resurrection because others find it a poignant narrative that a sacrifice can't be undone, that it lasts and has consequences, that it puts weight to the stakes. And they think that coming back to life after specifically doing something you know will 100% kill you cheapens sacrifice.

Personally, I think that being brought back after you willingly and knowingly and successfully gave your life for others tells a story of how much you're loved. It's your friends saying "Fuck that. You're going to live. We're all going to live. We'll keep dragging each other back until we can't anymore, so fucking be here and fight."

It also adds another level of desperation to be stronger, smarter, to not be caught like that ever again because who knows if you can get them back next time (and however many times you fail after that). Resurrections get harder ever time a person is brought back. This is part of what bit Scanlan's ass right before Bard's Lament: the Revivify didn't take, so the rest of Vox Machina brought in his daughter to call him back during the Resurrection (which he hated) and got the chance to be dicks about bringing him back with the dumb pranks, all of which led to setting Scanlan off. And sure, Bells Hells had that desperation to keep each other alive from the Bassuras fight, but that doesn't mean that the sentiment can't be further sharpened even when you've managed to steal back all the lives of your party members that she took.

Honestly, I think that just having Chet and FCG die against the Murder Machine of Otohan after Bells Hells specifically and successfully went to efforts to get stronger still ups the stakes even if both end up revived. "All our might and we still faced that loss. It would have been all of us if FCG didn't make that play. We still cannot face the enemy leadership head-on as we are. We must get stronger still."

And I really think there's some fun character development to be had in giving FCG a flesh body. Will he actually like what they've envied about the others? How does one handle a completely new body that they're grateful for (that they should be grateful for, otherwise they'd be dead) but is just so different from what they know? Yes, FCG had that last moment clarity that he was in fact already fully alive, but there's definitely some "alive in the flesh" things to explore.

And more faith to explore too. Like, did he get to meet the Changebringer and talk with her in the afterlife? The Raven Queen? Speaking of just being in the afterlife, what about meeting Eshteross again? The other members of the Division of Public Benefit that he killed?

Also, I'm not sure how big a fan I am of the heavy breakdowns that will happen if FCG isn't resurrected. Bells Hells is suffering pretty good as is and I'd like them to have some happiness inbetween all the Moon Bullshit. Conflict drives a story, but you need soft moments to wind it down between heavy moments.

Because truthfully, most of what you get from keeping FCG dead is a bunch of breakdowns in the party without it's most optimistic member who actually advocates for communication, which they all suck at for various personal reasons. And a push towards the Villain Arc path that, honestly, a few are walking just fine without FCG staying dead and/or can still be pushed further down it just by the fact that he decided to kill himself to save their asses when no one wants to let any of the others go.

I do think that as far as martyrdom goes, what FCG did took a nice step away from "giving my life because it's worth less than any one of theirs and I think dying for a cause will give me absolution for the people I rage killed" and into "giving my life because it will save them and I don't know what else to do that will save them." There are certainly posts that get into the distinction between those choices better than I have. Which is where I think the "best ending for FCG" idea comes from, as it happened under the "best" reasoning for FCG to martyr himself. And to a certain degree, people have decided that martyrdom was unavoidable for FCG or that he was just highly prone to it and this was a good time/way to do it.

Still doesn't change that a self-sacrificing character did in fact sacrifice themself, though. Or that it didn't have to be the end that FCG met.

And I understand to some degree how Everyone Comes Back to Life if You Try can feel like it undermines the stakes. Because if no one stays dead, what do you have to fear from walking into mortal danger? Everyone will be fine right? Which is wrong. There is still trauma in dying, even when you're brought back. The realization of mortality, the struggle to steal back a life when it's not just a quick prayer in the heat of battle. And the ever looming possibility that you do it right and it's still not enough to steal them back.

Also, from the wider in-the-game-world's perspective: Resurrection is rare as shit and only people with immense wealth, connections, and/or power even have a shot at it.

Even mechanically it's not easy. You have to mind time limits, expensive costs, body conditions, spell levels and slots, not to mention that the dice can always say no.

So yes, Bells Hells probably needs to go to less effort to Reincarnate FCG than they did to resurrect Laudna because all they're missing is components while they have the likes of Keyleth who kind of owe them for Moon Scouting and killing Otohan and should be able to provide.

#I don't know if this covers it right #but like. there are reasons to leave FCG dead (mostly Sam's wishes) and reasons to bring him back #both are valid and we won't know which way it swings until the next episode(s) #and it's not hating consequences to want FCG back. it's knowing it's possible and wanting that sequence of consequences #like Sam could take FCG back and impose some new limit on them. play “didn't come back right” beyond the new body for consequences #so. ya'know. trust the cast to tell the story and don't get on each other's asses about different hopes for what comes next #MQ&A #critical role #cr speculation #cr spoilers #fcg

[aethersflood]

Just don't say I didn't warn you. You're Cid now, and if anything happens to him, we're finished.

#ffxvi #clive rosfield #jill warrick #ffxviedit #ffedit #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi #i started this gifset bc i wanted to gif these two in their cool hoods but then i realized #i really love the way this second half of the game is set up #how they both think they're saving the world and expect everyone to thank them #but they're unintentionally making life harder for a lot of people #and what “saving” looks like to them is very different than how others see it #and they can't expect a thank you from people when they never asked to be saved #in fact their presence is making things worse #it's a lesson they sorta learn but Not Really bc otherwise they would have changed course in their destroy-all-mothercrystals plan #but most importantly they both look so hot like this #my husband and my wife #and what a way to open up the second half of the game too bc the writers were like “clive got hotter!! jill's still a beaut!!” #and i was like yES this is all i care about #mine