#frypan my beloved

[fluffypotatey]

Brenda has arrived!!!!

Damn, and here comes Jorge with the funniest opening lines ever.

"Ever feel like the whole world's against you?"

Thomas & Co.: 😒😑😒😑😒😑

TAGGED???? WCKD put fucking pet tracker chips in them??? That's hilarious and also so fucked up

AND THE HARD CUT TO THEM HANGING UPSIDE DOWN 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I like that they made Jorge older instead of a teenager/young adult. You get the feeling he's Seen Some Shit, especially since it makes him old enough to have lived through the initial collapse of the world, and for him to have made it through all that, he's gotta be a tough old bastard. Very much a "fear an old man in a young man's profession" type of deal. And the more paternal relationship with Brenda ❤️

OH FUCK OFF RAT MAN

TERESA NO. STEP AWAY FROM THE RADIO.

NOT THE PATSY CLINE RECORD

Rat Man: What is that???

That's classical music, babyyyy

Jorge: *brings them to a zipline*

Frypan: Oh you gotta be kidding me.

I love him so much.

OH SHIT HE RIGGED THE PLACE TO BLOW. THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, JORGE, MY MAN!

I FUCKING LOVE JORGE!!!! wholly agree on him being aged up bc book!Jorge??? 🤨 i don’t know if it hits the same as the wise-crack old man Jorge in the films bc “fear an old man in a young man's profession” is 100% one of the MAIN factors on why i love him (but that’s just me 🤷🏻‍♀️) also just the added parental relationship with Brenda is my own personal weakness so there’s that lol

AND THEN HE USES A FUCKING SONG AS THE TIMER FOR BLOWING THE BASE UO WHICH IS BADASS IN MY OPINION

FUCKING LOVE JORGE

also, dude, the fucking memes of that record player 😂😂😂😂 bc this is set a century or so into the future so ppl have played a shit ton of unserious music over the scene bc who fucking knows it could be considered a classic in their eyes!

*looks at Teresa and the radio* yeah, uh, that could mean nothing dw about it

[erenfox]

if it's what i think it is

DON'T REMIND ME PLEASE NOO 😭😭

Random little painting. It’s not very clear on what it’s supposed to be, but it’s a scene from Maze Runner

[lowkeyrobin]

hello!!

would you be willing to do a TMR minho fic?

basically just them at the little glade treehouse (i live for that treehouse lol) and maybe they stole some food from frypan and are just chatting and having a laugh together whilst cuddling or something bc they dont get to spend alot of time together as he is always in the maze??

(been loving your writing recently btw, literally one of the v few writers who write for MCYTS and respect their boundaries so tysm!!)

hope ur having a good day:)

oh hell yeah brother LMAO ; also thank you and you're welcome!! im all for respecting boundaries because ik how that feels when they're broken + I'm not a weirdo lol, and thank you for appreciating my work, it means sm to me 🫶🫶🫶 ; have a good day/night :) ; post writing me, sorry this is so short :( ; also I know I said I was in trouble but NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT??

MINHO ; tree house cuddles

summary ; sneaking food into the tree house and having late night convos with minho

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader is a track-hoe, Thomas has been in the maze for months and exists, but no Teresa/escaping the maze

word count ; 459

masterlist

You loved your beautiful boyfriend Minho. He was an angel sent from above, truly. Or... maybe below? The box and what existed out of the Glade was confusing, sadly. God, you wished you could remember anything outside of here.

Sadly, you hadn't seen him very much recently.

He'd been busy with his duties in the maze and the Map Room, and you've been busy working in the gardens damn near all day every day. Your rations were running low, the crops were growing slower than ever, and you couldn't figure out why. It's not like there were deer or raccoons feasting on them either. It was just you Gladers here, nothing else. You'd been stressing out over it and needed some time away from it for a while.

Thankfully, the beloved tree house existed, and rarely anyone used it.

You'd stolen a basket of fruit from Fry's kitchen, awaiting the arrival of Minho. Hopefully, Newt stuck to his word, or remembered to, to send Minho to the tree house to spend some time with you.

Thankfully, the beautiful Korean boy showed up, dressed casual and out of the heavy gear he had to wear in the maze. He greeted you with a tired yet warm smile, sitting down with you on the wooden floor.

"Hey, how's your day?" He asks, sitting next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

You hand him a little basket of strawberries. "Fine, I guess." You shrug, "Need a minute away from the gardens"

He nods, "I need a minute away from the shuckin' maze"

You dangle your feet off the side of the platform, soaking up each other's presence.

He pulls you into his lap, between his legs. He rests his chin on your shoulder while his arms rest around your waist. You feel your stomach swarm with butterflies, resting your hands over his.

"I love you" He whispers, placing a kiss on your temple.

"Love you too, dork," you reply with a smile, leaning your head back to rest yourself against him.

"What a romantic" He giggles, pulling you a little closer.

The night continues on in peace, smiles, giggles and kisses shared, hands intertwined. You share your body heat, cuddled up and comfy.

"No, no, no, he said something like he was gonna beat him back into the box! How does that even work? Gally acts like Thomas is some universal threat or something" You laugh as you speak.

"I have no idea, darling." He smiles and chuckles, listening to you ramble on and on about stories he'd missed during the day.

You look up at him and place a kiss on his jawline, a stupid smile on his face.

"Love you"

"Love you too"

"...Thanks for being mine"

"Okay, shut up, shank"

[zer0brainc3lls]

My opinions on tmr ships :D

I have seen a few people do this and I thought why not :) keep in mind these are my opinions and I don’t care who you ship (as long as it’s not like a pro ship or something yucky) the whole point of a fandom is to have fun!! :> any ship names i dont know ill just say “character x character”

Newtmas: take one look at my page and yk how I feel about this one 😭 idk I just love it so much ESPECIALLY IN THE FIRST BOOK OH MY GOD. Book one newtmas my beloved ☹️🫶 I just love them so so much 😔 bi Thomas is canon in my heart

Minewt: I prefer them platonically but I see it!! I really like this one, I don’t read fics of it often buts it’s super enjoyable and I understand the hype 100% like childhood best friends who were separated then when they finally find each other again an hour later the other dies?! Tragic. ☹️

Thominho: I kinda like this one, it’s tolerable I don’t mind it and I’ll read funny inncorrect quotes about them but that’s about it, i kind of get this one but it’s not my favourite :( still like it though :D

Thomas x gally: uhhh.. depends on if it’s movies or books honestly- movies I get it!! Enemy’s to lovers is one of my favourite tropes after all but books? Nah sorry I just can’t 😭

Brenda x Teresa: in canon NO. In fanon? (Like fics and whatnot) YES. GIVE ME MY LESBIANS GODDAMNIT I WILL COMMIT CRIMES.

Thomas x Brenda: second favourite ship, I love them so so much they are so near and dear to me oh my fuck 😔 THE BOOKS HAD ME GIGGLING THE WHOLE TIME I WISH THEY WERE ENDGAME IN THE MOVIES. WHY.

Thomas x Teresa: …. In the movies I get why people like it, but in the books? It just kinda grosses me out because Thomas saw Teresa as a sister before the swipe, then Teresa implied they could’ve been lovers and it was a whole thing and it’s just.. why? It’s kind of forced in my opinion (don’t get me wrong I’m not saying Thomas DIDNT love her. He did I’m not saying that at all. He did love her but still!!!)

Frypan x Brenda: OH MY FUCKING GOD I LOVE THIS SO OSOSOSOSOSOSO MUCH. In the movies I prefer them over Thomas x Brenda through and through!!

Brenda x gally: I see them as chaotic besties ngl but the scene with the bus and they were talking about the immunes like they were THEIR kids and the “I like her.” Scene 🫡 I like this ship literally only because of those scenes

Brenda x Minho: this is one of my friends fav ships and I’m slowly being pulled into it. Send help. Immediately. IM BEING SUCKED INTO IT GODDAMNIT

[la-gotica-fantasma]

𝔪𝔞𝔷𝔢 𝔯𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔢𝔯 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 -

★~ main masterlist ~★

rules and regulations - ★ i’ll write stuff about healing from sa, but i will not write sa. - no smut, no shame to those who write it ofc - i'll write for everyone except if it's Chuck romantically !! :}★

angst - 🥀 fluff - 🕸️

NEWT x READER -

no love like his love 🕸️

not on my watch 🕸️🥀

visions 🕸️🥀

under the sand - masterlist (series)(on hiatus) 🕸️🥀

maybe 🕸️

too close to a never 🕸️🥀

You love who? 🥀 (specifically male reader)

Read Between the Lips 🕸️ (specifically deaf reader)

Twice Told Thenody (platonic)

Pendant Diction 🕸️ (specifically male reader)

No Epitaph for Your Beloved 🥀 (specifically male reader)

No Epitaph for Your Beloved 🥀🕸️ (part two)

Birthday Boisterousness 🕸️ (specifically male reader)

Smolder What You Smothered 🥀(specifically male reader)

NEWT x THOMAS -

money made the world go ‘round 🕸️🥀

SONYA x HARRIET -

hound dog 🥀🕸️

the warmth 🥀🕸️

Evermore a Betrayed Lover 🥀🕸️

BRENDA x READER -

who you been kissing? 🥀🕸️

Tears From Yours Truly 🥀🕸️

MINHO x READER -

let me do it 🥀🕸️

ARIS x READER -

Springs’ Beginnings 🕸️

BRENDA x FRYPAN -

Cooking with Adoration 🕸️

CLINT x JEFF -

Unbandaged 🕸️

MARY x VINCE -

My Sunbeam Heals 🕸️

moodboards -

alby - brenda (part one) - brenda (part two) - gally - sonya - harriet - newt - teresa - teresa (part 2) - thomas (part 1) - thomas (part 2)

victorian moodboards -

teresa - sonya

incorrect tweets -

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part five

incorrect quotes -

part 1 -

correct characterization -

part 1 -

headcanons -

sonya (part 1) - harriet (part 1) - minho (part 1)

sorry just… -

part 1 - part 2

[scorchedmazes]

hello hello!

The Glade dog (Bark) has been mentioned once or twice in the books, but never really got a lot of interactions with the Gladers.

Any thoughts on what the Glade's emotional support dog would be like? (imagine him stealing scraps out of Frypan's kitchen and licking the tears off the Gladers' faces ahhh T^T)

hi anon tysm for the ask!!

bark my beloved 🥹 this is so cute pls-

-minho would take him on runs around the glade after his maze runs

-gally would train him to get sticks for him

-he’d for sure follow newt and alby around as emotional support

-chuck would steal food for him while frypan wasn’t looking

-zart would train him to get him buckets or tools

i love this so so much omg 🥹🫶🏼

[its-tea-time-darling]

rare pairs:

(I haven't looked thru what's already been sent so do forgive me if one of them has already been done)

harriet/frypan

sonya/zart

brenda/zart

thomas/alby

and that's all... for now (my app timer for tumblr is very nearly up for the day so tomorrow you get more lol)

fry/harriet

intriguing!!!!

badass girl + bestest boyfriend who cooks her warm nourishing meals after she's been out saving the world my beloved.

big fan of frypan being an awkward blushing mess + harriet chatting + flirting him up

+ he's all 'do u think she likes me or' at his friends and they flip tables and leave bc she literally asked you if you wanted to go out with her fry

sonya/zart

track hoes unite ;-)

apart from that i think that beyond their genuine good heartedness and fondness for soft + yellow things and plants they'd be SO full of bullshit joked + shenanigans.

literally everyone groaning begging them to stop 'beINg FuNnY' but they're rolling on the floor laughing bc they think they're so hilarious.

big fan of them getting together via notes. 'hey' - 'hey' - ' i like you' - 😳

brenda/zart

zart woos her by bringing her a particularly beautiful potato. to everyone's surprise, it works.

alby/thomas

looooooooooooooooooooooooove thomas and alby!!!!!!!!!!!

i think alby was really damn impressed with the skills + wit thomas showed, and if they had more time (😭) that really could have blossomed into something beautiful.

i think it would have been extremely interesting to see them both leading the group in tandem. thomas has this insane hero 'need to protect everyone' complex, which alby totally has, too.

they could've leaned on each other that way, and together found ways to handle and lead the group. (this last part is a bit more movie based)

[caztiel]

my coworker is deep in debate about frypans with this guy who keeps insisting that he has to use it in a way that just is not sustainable for the frypan and he’s blaming the frypan 😭 beloved it cannot do everything and be everything

[fluffypotatey]

Okay, watching delayed by a minor power outage but we're BACK BABY

"People. In the mountains. Mountain people. That's your plan?" Bitchy Newt my beloved

Creepy mall, creepy mall, creepy mall—

Frypan looking over at Teresa while she's changing and Newt just turning his head back 🤣🤣🤣

Newt: *silent gay judgment*

Frypan: What?

OH FUCK CRANKS

OH MY GOD THEY LOOK SO CREEPY

Another book/movie difference, this one I'm a little more on the fence about. Because book!Cranks are still human. It's almost like rabies, kind of, the way it affects their brains and makes them violent/irrational, but even the ones past the Gone can still talk and such, even if they are past all reasoning, which makes them a unique kind of creepy. Movie!Cranks seem to be more like zombies, just not full-on undead. They don't speak (but holy shit those noises!!!) and seem fairly mindless, just "maim rip tear kill". Still creepy, but also kind of seen it before. So it's not quite as good a change as the outpost, but I still like it.

NEWT!!! Don't worry, your boyfriend got you! Love how Thomas just yeeted that mf'er off the balcony like "get yo nasty claws off my bae"

WINSTON NO

Can I just say I am a slut for the abandoned desert city setting??? Like, I like when overgrowth happens, when tree roots grow through sidewalks and vines crawl up walls and grass breaks open blacktop, but there is something so. Brutal. About the desert swallowing a place up.

WAIT THEY'RE IN SAN FRANCISCO??? IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE MEXICO??? Everything between the Tropics is the Scorch. If anything, this place should be the start of some wild ass forest growth, considering all the hugeass state parks in California.

And the Thomresa decay begins again!! (feat. jealous bitch Newt in the background XD)

"It's not that simple."

"I think it is that simple."

TELL HER, THOMAS

"Everything was fine until you—" Until he what, Teresa? Finish your thought, girlie. Until he grew a fucking conscience? Until he remembered he had a soul? Please, do go on.

WINSTON NOOOOOO

Newt gave him the gun 😭😭😭

"It's okay." 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Oh my god, that fucking shot of them all walking, and then they all just. Stop. when the gun fires.

STORM.

STORM BAD.

RUN.

"What happened?"

"Think you got struck by lightning."

"Oh."

Minho, I love you.

Judgie Newtie my beloved <3333 tf you mean “mountain people,” Thomas??? 🤨 privacy is a thing, Frypan 🤨

yeah i honestly do like the book version of Cranks better (the films do try to expand it more in death cure but it doesn’t hit the same) and like it’s a major reason why i find the Flare so interesting in a world building standpoint

rip to Winston 🥺🤧 i am so sorry the hand dealt your life that way

NO YEAH ABANDONED DESERT CITY JUST HITS DIFFERENT!!!! not just a ghost town but a swallowed one. just adds to the drastic change the world had to become and how bad the Scorch was for people

THOMREA FRIENDSHIP DECAY!!!! THEIR CONFLICTING IDEALS!!!!! IT BEGINS!!!!!!

they will spend all their time convincing the other/believing they’re on the same side. only to never be ans dig their heels further 🤧 mwah

plus Newt watching them talk from afar 🥰

[derryhawkins]

lmao i can feel myself slowly starting to fall back into my tmr phase

[gladerscake]

Territorial

(Gally x Reader)

Hello, excuse me, coming through - I bring you more jealous Gally ♥️ Because I like it. It’s fun. Maybe I like it a little too much lol Enjoy!

The Safe Haven was growing more and more stunning every day. Thriving like the little patch of paradise it was. Neither you, nor any of your friends had ever seen anything like it, and now this place was your home. A hard-earned one, at that.

Though it was all very new, some aspects did call back to familiar times.

Much like it was in the glade, everyone did their part. Worked tirelessly and readily to make the place into something they always dreamed of.

The plantations were never at a shortage of people wanting to help in any way they could.

New huts and sheds were being built with such expert speed, it almost seemed like they were growing right out of the ground. Mostly thanks to your beloved boyfriend - the best builder the Safe Haven had to offer.

With Vince’s approval and encouragement, Gally had taken control over the construction of the place. He was in charge of what was being built, where and how. You were thrilled for him. He was back to doing what he loved, what his strong, hard-working hands were made to do. In the few months of being there, he had put together a sound team, and it was only growing.

There were plenty of newcomers, faces you hadn’t seen when you first arrived there yourselves. Every few weeks, Vince and a few others would venture out into the “old world” in search for more survivors and bring back whoever they could find.

And every other week a large bonfire was held, not only to celebrate everything that’d been accomplished, but also to welcome all the new arrivals. Another tradition that had apparently followed you all the way from the glade, not that you minded.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Vince and his friends had had a particularly fruitful trip, bringing back a whole lot of fourteen people. Most of them were young, around the same age as you and your friends, from what you could tell.

One of them had apparently taken an interest in becoming a builder as soon as they all settled in, and surely enough, he was swiftly pointed to Gally.

Though Gally tried to mask it, the spark of amusement behind his eyes was evident as he sensed how nervous the guy was to talk to him. His hand practically trembled, trying to keep a hold of the drink Gally had offered to help him relax.

“Ethan, is it?” Gally inquired, taking a seat next to him on the bench and taking a swig of the slightly bitter liquid sloshing in his mug.

The guy nodded, quickly, his eyes darting between Gally and the dancing flames of the fire “Y-Yeah, that’s me. I don’t know how much they told you - I just got here a few days ago.”

Gally scoffed with a light grin “Well they told me that much. Settling in alright?”

Ethan nodded once more “Yeah, this place is amazing. I never thought I’d end up anywhere like it…”

Gally hummed, taking another sip. He knew that feeling all too well, as did you, all of you. Whatever hell hole Vince had dug the new group out of, the Safe Haven had to be a drastic change of scenery to them.

“I take it, you’ve been here a while?”

Gally glanced over to Ethan’s question “Depends what you call “a while”. My friends and I got here about five months ago.”

“Wow…” Ethan exhaled with a small smile “You guys must have it all figured out by now, everyone knows what they’re doing.”

Gally grinned from the corner of his mouth “Pretty much.” He nodded towards a small group just a few feet away “You already know Frypan - he’s one of the reasons we don’t just have coconuts and bananas for dinner.”

Ethan let out a chuckle, finally beginning to ease up as Gally continued.

“The one next to him, with the dark hair, that’s Minho. He’s one of the Explorers. They do exactly what you’d assume from the name. Then there’s Thomas and Brenda, they’re at the armoury most of the time, but sometimes they join Minho on his outings and sometimes they even help me.”

Ethan listened closely, fascinated by the multitude of ways people could find a purpose for themselves. He still was certain he wanted to try and join Gally’s team, but it was nice to know that if he failed there, there were plenty of other options.

Then, the guy’s brows suddenly shot upwards as something else caught his attention. Or rather, someone. His eyes zeroed in on a young woman laughing chirpily at something Minho must’ve said and looking positively radiant in the warm golden glow cast onto her by the fire.

“Wait, who’s that…?” Ethan discreetly gestured towards the source of his momentary lapse of focus as Gally’s gaze landed on it as well.

The grip Gally had on his drink involuntarily tightened, his eyes flickering with something that shouldn’t have been prodded at.

Of course it had to be you. Would’ve been weirder if it wasn’t.

From time to time, Gally would catch a few other guys staring at you. Things like that couldn’t evade him in a million years. They were all newcomers - no one who actually knew Gally would be dumb enough to ogle his girl. He tried not to let it bother him. He knew you only loved him. However, more often than not, it couldn’t be helped. Gally was definitely the territorial type, especially when it came to you. Most of all, when it came to you.

Luckily for everyone involved, Gally was no longer quite as hotheaded as he was back in the glade. While he was still a force not to be messed with, he was much better at keeping his cool than he used to be.

Gally huffed under his breath, all trace of his kindling temper vanishing from his face as he spared Ethan a stoic glance.

“That’s Y/N.”

Ethan’s mouth broke out into a dopey grin as he eyed you up and down from the distance.

Gally held a short pause, fingers nonchalantly tapping on the side of his mug as he anticipated how quickly that stupid look was about to be wiped off the shank’s face.

“My girlfriend.”

“Oh…”

Gally bit back a smirk as Ethan’s expression suddenly fell, rapidly widened eyes darting to him in utter horror.

“OH…! I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t-I had no idea!” He stammered, frantically, visibly shrinking into himself.

Gally almost let out a laugh, swallowing it at the last second. He could practically see the poor guy’s life flashing before his eyes. Maybe back in the glade he wouldn’t have let something like that slide so easily, but Gally was more mature than that now. Or at least he hoped he was.

“It’s alright.” He snickered, placing an unintentionally heavy hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “You didn’t know. You do, now.”

Ethan nodded quickly, Gally’s leniency keeping him from sweating through his jacket. Still, he hurried to excuse himself.

“Definitely! Sorry, I-uh… I think I’m gonna go find my friends.”

Gally chuckled at the guy’s crooked attempt at a smile before he disappeared out of his sight.

The builder drew in a deep breath before taking another swig of his drink. It wasn’t surprising that it had happened again. But it was still annoying as all hell. Those new guys that kept showing up… He had no desire to have to approach every last one of them and state that you weren’t up for grabs. But they needed to know. No matter if they just got there last week or an hour ago.

Maybe a bit of a demonstration was in order.

Gally swiftly pulled himself up from the bench, leaving his mug behind as he strode towards you, every step echoing with purpose.

You grinned, brilliantly, at Gally’s fast approaching form, having veered away from the rest of your friends for a quick sip of water.

“Hey, where’ve you been? I was starting to miss you!” You let out a soft giggle as your boyfriend came closer. And immediately you noticed the strange glint in his eyes and the devilish smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Gally…?” You didn’t get to inquire further as his large hands scooped you up from the ground in one effortless motion, his lips crashing down on yours in a fiery kiss.

Only a short squeak escaped you before you melted into Gally, your legs wrapping around him as you returned his passion, your lips moving eagerly and seamlessly against his own. It wasn’t unusual for him to get pleasantly rough with you at times. He knew how to be that way without hurting you and he was well aware that you enjoyed that side of him. However, it was quite rare for him to handle you in such a manner in public. What could’ve brought it on…?

Finally you pulled back from the hungry kiss, your lips still tingling as you looked up at Gally, your face undoubtedly feeling hot to the touch.

“What’s gotten into you?” You panted, slightly, tracing a finger down his freckled cheek “People are gonna stare…”

Gally merely huffed, a grin curling his mouth “Great. Let them. Hope they get a good look.”

Your brows propped up at the unexpected response. It wasn’t typical for Gally to want that kind of attention on the two of you. Unless…

Realization paved your features as a breathy chuckle trailed from your reddened lips.

“Oh, I think I get what this is. Did you see some guy checking me out? Are you teaching someone a lesson, my keeper?” You grinned. Your sweet voice, dripping with underlying teasing, only added fuel to Gally’s inner burning.

His right hand gave your thigh a languid squeeze as he gazed deep into your glittering eyes.

“You just know everything, don’t you?” Gally husked, his lowered tone sending a tingle through your nerves.

“Well, not everything. But a lot. Especially if it has to do with you.”

Gally didn’t respond for a second. Only held you closer, admiring your smooth features as he lightly swayed you from side to side. He didn’t necessarily need to - you already knew you guessed right.

You shook your head, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone “Please tell me the poor guy’s still alive.”

Gally rolled his eyes, smiling nonetheless “He’s fine. Got off with a warning.”

You snickered, bringing your arms around his neck. If he really wanted to show off the fact that you were his so badly tonight… very well. You could indulge him.

“Okay then… ” You murmured, your lips inching closer and craving to be back on his “Assert your claim, baby.”

Gally’s eyes flashed with determination and longing, his burly arms around you feeling like an impenetrable shield as his lips captured your own once again, swallowing your deep hum of satisfaction.

Your tough builder could get a bit possessive, there was no arguing that. It wasn’t a bad thing though, not to you.

Because you sure knew how to make the best of it.

Tags: @ultraintrovertedgryffindor @maraudersimp @abundantxadorations @izzymultifan @magnoliabloomfield @willseyebrows @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @anniemylennox @gallysonegoodlung @joemomma2121 @lattsgocaps @sherbertscarrothead-2 @lullabaesstuff @thesuitkovian @blanknamed @mastersurf @lealup

[heliads]

29 and 33 with Newt from TMR pleaseeeeeee

newt my boy my beloved

masterlist

It is common knowledge that the Track-Hoes are all incredibly close. You have to be, at any rate, spend enough time slaving over the same pitiful plants and wilting tomatoes day in and day out and you’d bond with just about anyone. 

It makes sense, that’s all you’re saying. You’d trust any of them without hesitation, and that’s even without the stress of being trapped in a massive stone maze that connects you to all of the other Gladers. The Track-Hoes are your favorite people, and that’s that. 

There is one amongst your gardening numbers that you like more than all the others, however. He grew on you slowly, day by day until you realized you weren’t looking at him as a good friend but as something else, someone that you love more than anything. 

There are many reasons why you could have fallen for Newt. He’s kind, obviously, far more than any of the others. He makes you feel not just wanted but needed, a crucial part of any inner circle. Any good characteristic that could be named aloud is attributed to Newt on a daily basis. 

Then again, you never needed a reason to love Newt, you just do. He smiles at you and you’re smitten, laughs with you over your favorite inside jokes and you’re lovesick. There is simply nothing you can do about it, nothing but sit there, pine, and wish he felt even half as strongly about you.

That’s the problem, after all. The Track-Hoes are family, and that means Newt never seems to see you as anything other than a best friend, a sister, someone he can count on and never love in that way. Even if you spent the rest of your life in the Glade, Newt would never change his mind on that front. 

In the end, that’s that. You’ve had your time to mourn this news, to grieve over the fact that the boy you love will never love you back. It’s certainly kept you up at nights, as visions as what could have been played over and over in your head. Newt could have been everything you ever needed, and he never will be.

Not in that way, at least. What you have now is good, and it’s worthwhile to appreciate it. Doesn’t mean you don’t wish there was more, but at least you have his friendship. It’s not worth ruining the easy bond to tell Newt how you feel, especially because he’d just turn you down politely and that would be the end of everything.

That isn’t the only opinion on the matter, however. You thought you were being perfectly discreet with your feelings, keeping them only to yourself so no one could suspect, but it turns out the excellent camaraderie between the Track-Hoes means that some of them are a little better at guessing your thoughts than you’d like.

Basically, you don’t know how Zart found out that you like Newt, but there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it now. It feels like not a day goes by that the Keeper isn’t teasing you about your crush, begging you to tell Newt so both of you can be put out of your misery, and otherwise being a nuisance. Zart is convinced that Newt likes you back, which is so wrong you can hardly even bear to think about it.

He’s grinning at you now, blond irritation, because he keeps putting you and Newt together in garden plots in the hopes that one of you will cave due to proximity and just spill your guts. That’s what Zart told you, at least, when he imbibed a little too much of Gally’s special brew and felt his tongue was loose enough to let you into his grand schemes.

Despite Zart’s planning, it’s a lost cause. You and Newt have been working steadily all morning, transplanting tomatoes from a shadowy spot in the gardens to somewhere they should get a little more sun. Frypan’s been complaining that his sauces aren’t nearly as flavorful as they could be due to wilting supplies. You’re desperate for the cook’s good mood so his food doesn’t reflect his attitude, and so you’re indulging him on this point.

When the day’s work is over, you peel off your work gloves with a grimace. Being a Track-Hoe isn’t easy, anyone can see that, but you feel it especially once your hours are through. Your bones ache, your muscles are cramped, and every plague known to mankind is tormenting your spine and shoulders.

You stop by the showers on your way to dinner, reveling in the chance to actually get clean for once. You don’t know that all of the dirt will ever truly leave that groove between your fingers and fingernails, but you give it your best shot anyway. 

It’s a bit chilly when you step out of the water, what with dusk quickly rushing over the Glade, so you grab a nearby jacket and pull it over your shoulders as you walk. You’ve lost track of how many times the Track-Hoes have borrowed or stolen each other’s clothes during the months you’ve spent here, so this latest acquisition is nothing new.

Or, you thought it was nothing new until you head over to dinner. Frypan’s running a little late, so most of your friends are hanging around and talking until the food is ready. You walk over to some of the other Track-Hoes, ready to engage in a discussion of everyone’s favorite complaints on hot sun and tough roots and whatnot.

You’re greeted instead by the sight of one rather shell shocked Track-Hoe. Newt is standing on the outskirts of the group, talking to a Runner who’s just jogged over from the Doors. He turns absentmindedly to greet you when you approach, but his casual wave is interrupted by some wave of unnameable emotions that crests over him the second Newt’s eyes lock on you. He seems utterly shaken, unable to form a single concise syllable. Strange.

Before you’re able to read too much into the affair, Zart bounds over you, grinning ear to ear. 

“What did I tell you?” He says proudly, “you’ve got a chance, you shank.”

You stare at him in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Zart swats you on the shoulder. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your crush is head over heels, I promise.”

You laugh bitterly. “Yeah, I bet, Zart. Do me a favor, try to wake up from your dreams every now and then.”

Zart, however, refuses to be swayed by this. “Hey, I’m right this time. You can say what you want about how you look or what you think other people feel about you, but Newt’s jaw literally dropped when he saw you, so clearly something is working.”

You snort. “That’s insane. He would never–”

Zart interrupts, jerking his chin back towards Newt. “You sure? Look for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

You follow his line of sight to where Newt still stands looking at you. Minho’s still talking to him, but you don’t think Newt is hearing a word of it.

“Maybe you’re right,” you whisper.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Zart replies, “Go talk to him, will you? This is your chance.”

He pushes you in Newt’s direction before you can react, and then you’re walking towards the blond boy without a single plan or idea of what to do. Newt seems just as unprepared as you are, and the two of you end up staring at each other for a solid second or two before he manages to choke out a question in a faded voice:

“Is that my jacket?”

Newt is so totally screwed. He’s known this for a while, obviously, but he really had been thinking that he could have hidden it some time longer. Clearly things won’t be going his way ever again, at least judging by today.

Newt was meant to be hiding his crush. It’s not like it would ever work out, anyway; everyone knows that the Track-Hoes are a family, Y/N’s supposed to be his best friend, not someone he could ever love or hope to love. That didn’t stop him from trying. Some days it feels like it never will. He makes the rules, as second in command, he makes them so he can break them or at least wish he had the courage to try. Newt’s lost a lot of his courage in the days since– well, nobody talks about that anymore, and so he won’t either.

For now, it means that Newt fell in love when he wasn’t supposed to, and now he’s forced to play around in some sort of strange lockstep in which he pretends that he isn’t crushing so hard on his best friend that he could die, and everyone else doesn’t see a thing. 

Minho has been seeing many things, of course, the other boy won’t stop teasing Newt about it for a second, but no one else seems remotely aware of the concept of Newt loving anyone more than the typical familial love of the Track-Hoes. Maybe that’s good, or maybe it’s terrible to spend so much time amongst these friends and still have only one see straight through you.

Regardless, he’s well and truly in for it now. Newt was minding his own business tonight, trying to pretend that flinging himself into his daily tasks in the Glade could one day distract him from the inevitability of spending the rest of his life within these stone walls, loving someone who’d never have him, when he saw Y/N. 

Specifically, he saw Y/N wearing his jacket. It’s funny how such a small occurrence should have such a devastating effect on him. It’s just a few yards of fabric, some garment that showed up once in the Box, was claimed by him, and has subsequently grown to represent Newt’s entire being in the way that only a handful of failing stitches truly can.

Now, the illustrious garment is draped across Y/N’s shoulders. It seems like a promise, in a way, a tantalizing promise of what he could have had if the stars chose to align. This could have happened all the time, you know. Y/N could have been one with Newt in every conceivable way, one ending where the other begins right down to something as simple as a shared jacket.

He’s definitely thinking too much into it, because when Y/N goes from chatting with Zart to walking his way, the only thing Newt is able to say to them when they stand in front of him at last is one simple question:

“Is that my jacket?”

Instantly, he despises himself for bringing it up. It’s a silly question, and now Y/N’s glancing at the sleeves and pockets and realizing that yes, it is his, and yes, Y/N hadn’t done that intentionally. They start to pull the jacket off but Newt, fuelled by a sudden and irresistible panic, flings out a hand to stop them.

“Wait, wait. It’s fine. It– suits you, I think.” He manages.

Y/N smiles, keeps the jacket on. “You sure you don’t mind me stealing your clothes? It wasn’t intentional, I swear.”

Newt finds it in himself to laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure. We all trade clothes around here enough that it doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Y/N grins at that. “Tell me about it. I’ve been missing a hat for weeks. It could be halfway across the Glade by now. Still, if you want it back–”

Newt shakes his head. “It’s yours.”

Easy as that. Y/N smiles at him, and Newt’s struck by the delight of it all, in knowing that he’s made them happy.

Unconsciously, Y/N wraps the jacket a little closer around themselves. “Thanks, Newt. Really. You’ve always been so nice. I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s not hard to be nice around you,” he smiles.

Y/N’s gaze flashes to him, and for the briefest moment, Newt allows himself a spark of hope that they might harbor feelings even half as strong as his. “I could say the same thing about you,” they breathe.

Something on the periphery of Newt’s vision catches his attention; Minho left his side when he saw Y/N coming and is now standing with Zart. The Runner gives Newt an encouraging thumbs up and Newt tries to fight the urge to throw something at him.

Then again, maybe the other boy isn’t entirely wrong. Newt straightens up and tries to prepare himself as best he can.

“I was thinking,” he begins, “I know we’ve been good friends and all, but don’t you ever wish there was something more? That we could be something more?”

Y/N’s eyes are shining, Newt doesn’t know that he’s ever seen a better sight. “I do,” they reply, and that’s all Newt needs to finish his thought.

“I like you,” he says simply, “I like you a lot. More than I should. More than I know how to handle. If there’s any chance that you might feel the same, I don’t think I’d ever be happier.”

Y/N beams at him. “I like you too, Newt. I haven’t told you all this time because I was scared of ruining the friendship, but I like you. Always will.”

Just like that, Newt’s day is made.

tmr tag list: @rogueanschel, @retvenkos, @ellobruv, @neewtmas, @thatfangirl42, @hiya-its-amber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria

[gallys-wife]

What pet names would tmr characters use? Thanks hun!

Maze Runner Characters and Their Pet Names for You

Alby

My Love

Aris

Lovely/Handsome/Pretty/Beautiful

Ben

Plumb/peaches

Brenda

Love

Clint

Doesn’t use nicknames, but would be the type to use your full name when everyone else uses your nicknames.

Frypan

Scrumptious

Gally

Babe

Harriet

Angel/my angel

Jeff

Also doesn’t use pet names, would just call you by a nickname

Minho

Sweets/sugar

Newt

Dear/dearest/my dearest

Teresa

Sweetheart

Thomas

Baby/my boo

Sonya

Honey

Winston

Beloved/dearest/darling

[mintresa]

*reemerges from the deep dark void to tell you all about my shiny new minresa hunger games au are you ready here we go*

This is a fusion. Katniss and Peeta win the 73rd Games instead of the 74th. There have been uprisings in the districts. Although they have been put down, the message has been sent. The districts are no longer willing to roll over and beg.

As usual, the reaping begins at Twelve first. Panem watches as Prim is reaped again. There’s no one to save her this time. (The first time, she was not the main target.)

There are no volunteers this year, not for any district either. There is no illusion of choice, or of hope. The reply of the President is loud and clear: districts must submit to the Capitol.

That said, the show must go on. If the Career districts still manage to end up with trained boys and girls, second and third choices mind, the humiliation is theirs but they can be counted on to deliver. The same can be said for the rebelling districts, where if it happens the children of the dissidents are chosen, it is all just the matter of the reaping bowl.

The 73rd was the year of the star-crossed lovers who cheated destiny. The 74th will be the narrative of fate striking back. This is the year of the slaughterhouse.

As the centre of this maelstrom was the Girl On Fire herself, Prim cannot be allowed to survive. The only matter of it is who will be the executioner. The arena will do its work, but the Capitol is still out for blood. Upon whom will it fall?

Among the Career districts, the district that had come closest to winning the previous year had been the Twos. (Had things gone sideways, they could easily have been spun as the other set of star-crossed lovers, although lovers they were not, nor star-crossed. They were Twos. They knew their duty. It would have destroyed them, but they would have known their duty.) Mountains and earth, and Two stands. One is weary, and Four wearier. Two will probably be the one. Their tributes this year: Rachel, and Minho.

Even in the Capitol, people have paid - Seneca Crane and his retinue retired and replaced. The new Gamemakers this year, Plutarch Heavensbee and Ava Paige, and their apprentice Gamemakers, including Teresa and Thomas, are expected to make a Games more spectacular than ever, while washing away the taste of rebellion in the mouths of the people.

Thomas cannot keep watching them die. Neither can Teresa, but thankfully she helps him keep his dumb mouth shut before he blabs and gets them both in trouble.

Teresa has been in on the rebellion longer than Thomas. Her mother wasn’t a dissident per se, but she did have firm opinions and stuck by them, enough that she was taken away, but not before she was forced to look at her beloved daughter being sent to one of the Capitol’s prestigious academies, to be later trained among the top echelons of the Capitol, where she would almost certainly forget her mother’s unfortunate ways of thinking, and indeed her mother herself.

Teresa... did struggle. Being in the academy had meant hours of endless excitement, whirled away to one party and the next, all of it a haze and she’s sure they did something to her there. She has trouble remembering some things, and sometimes her thoughts run away from her. But she is certain of this. Panem cannot be made to stay on this way. There must be change.

This is how the tributes of the districts shake out: from District One, two beautiful 17 years olds in Sonya and Ben, District Three has Aris, District Four has a beautiful boy reminiscent of Finnick Odair in Newt, his district partner Harriet, Chuck from Five, Gally and Beth from Six, Brenda from Seven, Frypan from Nine, Winston from Ten, Alby from Eleven, and Jeff from Twelve reaped with Prim.

This is what Teresa thinks about the tributes; Prim is one of the youngest, and the odds are certainly not in her favour with more than half the tributes actually looking like they may have a chance. She hopes Prim can run. She will not even have the mercy of being killed in the bloodbath, Teresa suspects. That would be too tame for a crowd that would be bloodthirstier than usual.

Minho and Rachel are more stoic than the usual Twos bunch. Well, Minho is, Rachel is quite a bit flashy, in the earnest sense that means she believes in her rhetoric. Loyalty to the Capitol, and all that. Expected, in a year that the Capitol is demanding districts show their obeisance. Minho, though, is different. She can’t quite put her finger on how, but she already knows he’s the one she’ll be watching most for the Games. She thinks he could be the one.

There are a lot of strong personalities in this year. Alby, Gally, Brenda from the outliers. She doesn’t know what the Capitol is planning for Four’s boy when he wins, but for now, he’s proven he’s no lightweight either. Quite like Minho, in fact. You look, and there’s something about them that you can’t look away as easy.

The thing with being an apprentice Gamemaker is that you get to interact with a few mentors. Not all, but many of them, and it’s like playing a chess game sometimes because these are people who’ve seen how the game is played. They can’t be underestimated - see how brilliantly Haymitch took charge of the narrative last year and brought in a win worthy only of his own the previous Quell. The way he saw the game, which even the Twos couldn’t stop, for all that they were trained to look for it, or the Fours, who struggled without Mags. Being an apprentice Gamemaker means Thomas and Teresa can finally meet them (meet potential allies.) It’s... definitely an experience.

Thomas likes the Fours the best. He likes how they’re the anomaly, Careers who get along swimmingly with the non-Careers, who’ve somehow overcome the prejudice outlier mentors have. He likes their versatility.

Teresa... doesn’t like the Twos exactly, no more than she likes the Capitol’s district system to begin with, but she’s drawn to them. That kind of fanatical devotion and set way of looking at the world that she had fought so hard to get out of, the disgust and sick fascination it arouses from her, and the evolution of it in Two’s mentors, who are about as level-headed as mentors can be in a situation where they’ll have to prepare children for a situation wherein they’ll most likely die. Lyme probably won’t come to Capitol this year after Cato, but Teresa would’ve liked to meet her. In terms of individuals that she has met, she likes Haymitch best.

This is the best time for a revolution. Snow will do his best to step in, but the revolution will happen. All that’s left is the fuse.

Plutarch Heavensbee has a flair for style. The arena of the 74th is meant to embody the concept of a mouse in a trap, helpless to the whim of its trappers in the most literal sense. The 74th arena is a maze.

The cornucopia and podiums will be set in the middle of the maze, ironically perhaps the only safe place in the arena. A small glade, and four doors that lead out into the maze. The further out, the more pitfalls or mutts. There’s a lift in the middle of the glade that leads underground, where await more traps. If a tribute makes it out of the maze (unlikely), they find themselves in a completely different environment with scorching sands and whipped winds. The sun will kill them like anything else will.

The children of the dissidents may be killed in the bloodbath, but not Prim. Maybe it is a small illusion of grace that the tribute reaped with her, Jeff, seems to have some medicinal skills. However, he is small and fairly skinny, as most Twelves are. There will not be much hope for him, especially because Katniss, who will be coming back to mentor this year, will expend all her efforts to bring Prim home. Teresa can’t imagine Haymitch and Peeta trying to stop her too much.

(Katniss and Peeta are her and Thomas’ age. It disturbs her more than she will admit what might be happening if she and Thomas were the Twelve mentors right now, and it was her sister she was sending to her death.)

Apprentice Gamemakers may meet with the mentors, but with the tributes themselves the chances are slim. There is simply no reason for them to meet. Yet this is the situation Teresa finds herself in when she’s heading to the roof in the training centre for some time to clear her head after another meeting with Heavensbee and finds District Two Male already there, his mentor nowhere in sight, just standing and staring into the distance. He turns at the sight of her footsteps though, and his face registers some surprise. Probably because he doesn’t know anyone his age that is not a tribute or an Avox is in the building.

They both make to leave at the same time. Both stop. Teresa introduces herself by name, but does not offer her job. He offers his name too, but she already knows it of course. She would still leave, but she’s already here, and he doesn’t seem like he wants to talk much either, so she just stands by him, and thinks in silence. She files away the fact that he’d rather be up here than with his mentor. After a while, she sits, and pats the ground beside her. His eyebrow quirked, he sits too.

It’s weird. If it had been Cato last year, she doubts he would’ve kept his silence so well, or stayed. There’s a sort of restrained energy to Minho, as if he’s trying to hold something back. Teresa lets her own thoughts quiet, and she waits. True enough, he speaks. I knew Clove, he says. She was in my year at the Centre.

He looks like he’s struggling with something, and when he lets it out it’s a relief. She was supposed to be the tribute this year. It takes Teresa a few moments, but then she gets it. He can’t say anymore, in case the roof is bugged probably (it isn’t, not this close to the edge and the hum of the forcefield) but she gets it. It wasn’t supposed to be Cato and Clove last year. It had been the Capitol’s plan. They’d been angling for drama all along, she knew, it was exactly something Crane would’ve done, but knowing how far he’d gone makes her feel sick. And to think, he must’ve been planning for Katniss and Peeta too, except it had backfired on him, and now, well.

You’re one of them, aren’t you? She stiffens, but there’s no judgment in his gaze. He’s still trained after all. Image training, camera training. But he did give her some honesty, so she nods. An apprentice, she gives him. It’s my first year too. First year in this part of the Capitol, in the Games. She’s how old Clove was when she died. She’s spending time with someone she’ll have to kill in a few days, or weeks. Indirectly, but still. What a f—-ked up world, she can’t say, but he snorts in response anyway.

How Teresa wishes she can save him, save them all, little Chuck who looks barely twelve, Prim, the others. But it’s not her job. They don’t say anything else the rest of the time, and soon Thomas comes to find her. She doesn’t see him again, not where she can acknowledge him.

She does meet Primrose, another time she goes to the rooftop. Katniss Everdeen is with her, and she’s pretty hostile, but Primrose is friendly, and somehow they manage to make small, civil conversation before the sisters leave her alone.

The days are filled with doing one thing after the next, though, so she does not go to the rooftop again, and it is only later that she realises that what Minho was telling her should’ve stricken her as odd. Because Two is the most loyal district there is, and if this is what their tribute is thinking, then who knows? Maybe this is the just the spark they need.

[12freddostories]

Where’s My Supersuit?

Game of Thrones / A Song of Ice and Fire SUPERHERO AU 

Mostly gen, minor Jon/Ygritte, platonic Robb&Theon.

Dotpoint fanfic

(Don’t own anything, title is from the Incredibles)

Okay, so, this is a universe ala The Incredibles, in which ‘having’ powers is hereditary but the powers themselves are not.

Ned and Robb both play really traditional hero roles in canon, so I think they should have typical superpowers.

Ned has superstrength

Robb has flight

Arya with shapeshifting seems obvious, but tbh I think I prefer Arya with invisibility. A little less creepy and it’s easier to slip into the whole ‘no-one’ thing.

Sansa would probably have some form of telepathy. Definitely an empath, and she has a manipulation type power.

·         She has to actually have physical contact to convince someone to do something, so she can be pulled back just by wearing too many clothes.

Bran has superpowers in canon, so I think a superhero au would have something very similar.

 He can still be able to project and see what happens elsewhere.

Rickon hasn’t gotten his powers yet, because it’s an age thing.

  Cat is not looking forward to six children with superpowers.

·         She doesn’t have any herself

·         Not to say she hasn’t occasionally brained some supervillain with her frypan, but she’s normally preoccupied with the full-time job of keeping a family of superheroes functioning.

 She does take over PR whenever anyone’s reputation gets sullied, and is one of the main reason why the ‘Direwolves’ are so beloved by the public.

Jon was adopted after his parents were killed in action.

Aerys was a supervillain who did not take his son running off with a superhero lightly.

·         Rhaegar wasn’t even a villain before he eloped with Lyanna. He was a civilian trying to distance himself from the family business, but he fell in love with her secret identity and totally had a crush on the superhero he saw on TV.

I don’t have any real basis for this one, but I love the image of Jon with superspeed.

·         When Rickon does get his powers it’s totally superspeed too, and Jon’s saddled with babysitting all the time because he’s literally the only one who can keep up with him

They all have secret identities too

·         Winter (Ned), Grey Wind, Ghost, Lady, Nymeria, Summer.

Together, they fight crime

(More under the cut)

However, Arya has a secret-secret identity.

She’s has a second costume that’s even more hidden then the first, and goes around as a sidekick to a superpower-less vigilante that’s willing to teach her more tricks.

The Hound wasn’t planning on taking on a sidekick during his midnight patrols, but a little shadow started following him.

·         It takes several weeks before he realises the reason she is so good at disappearing isn’t a coincidence but a literal power.

At first Nymeria was upset that he was in ‘their’ territory, but when she sees him punch someone out using nothing but his own wits she asks him to teach her

·         Invisibility in itself is helpful, but she also really wants to learn how to fight back because she’s very vulnerable even at her peak

·         Plus if she’s 100% invisible the light travels through her eyes, so she has to either have a fraction of her eyes visible or be blind.

·         Sandor teaches her how to fight without sight.

Also, Arya totally pulled an Odysseus (by accident) by saying “No-one!” when asked who she was. The Hound continues to call her that, much to her frustration.

Robb and Theon have been best friends since they were kids

Unfortunately, the Greyjoys happen to be supervillains

·         The Starks might not have the same powers, but the Greyjoy family follows a distinct theme of super-intelligence (in the cartoony ‘build-a-death-ray-from-scrap’ way) combined with equally cartoony logic (‘a death ray is the most efficient way to threaten a city, which we must do for reasons’).

Rodrick and Maron are all for supervillainy

Asha isn’t ecstatic, but she has absolutely no objections to being a villain.

·         She is pretty much the only one with the common sense to wonder why death rays should be the first choice for a weapon, but she rolls with it.

·         An article once commented that if she ever went fully into the business instead of just supporting her family, she’d take over the world in a week. She has the post printed on her wall.

 Theon is not really okay with supervillainy, but he desperately wants to be

·         He tries to get his father’s approval, he really does, but the fact that he quite clearly has a moral centre holds him back.

·         The same article said that he seemed like a good kid, but if he doesn’t get away from his toxic influences he was going to end up doing something major and get a lot of people killed. Theon had almost cried because that was exactly what he felt like was going to happen.

Robb and Theon have both independently worked out the other’s secret identity

·         They don’t admit that they know, although they do understand that it’s not a secret that they know

·         Theon knows Robb is Grey Wind, Robb knows Theon knows he’s Grey Wind, and Theon knows that Robb knows he knows…

·         It’s actually ridiculous at this point.

 Jon: “You do realise Theon is a Kraken, right?” Robb: “What? That’s insane. How could you think that?” “The shirt he’s wearing now has a kraken on it they do not sell supervillain merchandise in stores that is custom made.”

Somehow the friendship works

·         Theon pretends to buy Robb’s obviously bullshit excuses about having forgotten a dentist appointment whenever Grey Wind is needed to fly somewhere.

·         Robb makes teasing comments about the ridiculousness of a family that builds giant lasers designed to look like giant sea creatures, and Theon can’t even ‘hypothetically’ argue with that because for a family of geniuses there is a distinct lack of intelligence

 “Theon why the fuck would King Kraken build a secret base in the harbour and have gaudy decorations of giant octopi that are basically a sign saying HERE I AM?!”  “…They’re kraken, not octopi. And, um, I wouldn’t know. No, seriously, I don’t know why, I don’t even get the fascination with krakens, at least the Direwolves don’t have anything more wolf-y than a coat of arms on their chests.”

At some point Jon is planning to rip Theon’s mask off mid-confrontation because really, if they’re going to be friends they should at least stop this I know you know I know tangle. 

Tywin Lannister is basically Lex Luthor

He doesn’t have the same inherent problem Luthor does with superheroes existing, but occasionally has similar problems with them interfering with his plans

·         The Starks are not quite sure if he has in fact been fooled by the Direwolves masks, or if is entirely aware of who they are but so far has not found an opportunity to use it.

·         He knows who they are but won’t say anything.

·         Superheroes are almost impossible to kill. If he were to blow up their house chances are one or two would die and the rest would be out for blood, which is a lot more inconvenient then them occasionally stopping giant robot acquisitions

Cersei is somewhat unaware that her father knows who they are. She is obsessed with working it out herself.

Tyrion has several theories as to the Direwolves, one of which is correct, but his plans coincidentally are not things that superheroes try to prevent — he goes more into legal business, if borderline shady, but never anything immoral. He also rather admires what they do and wouldn’t expose them should he be proven right.

Jaime just doesn’t care what’s behind the mask. He finds Winter frustrating, but sees him for who he is and doesn’t care if his name is Bob or Ned or Jake or whatever.

·         The Lannisters do not in fact have a special preoccupation with the Direwolves, who aren’t even the only superheroes they deal with.

·         They have similar stances to pretty much all of the superhero/anti-hero groups of Westeros. 

Roose Bolton is ‘officially’ considered a superhero

·         People are terrified to commit crimes anywhere near the Dreadfort

·         Ned can’t even argue that it doesn’t work, because Roose definitely has less to deal with, but still

Occasionally Ramsay joins in, partly to ingratiate himself with his father and partly because he enjoys being able to wield his power over others

·         At least Roose only attacks people for muggings or bank robberies or actual crimes

·         Ramsay has been known to flay people for jaywalking

While Roose is registered as an anti-hero, Ramsay is a vigilante and has a warrant for his arrest.

·         Roose is smart enough not to publicly admit they’re related

·         He does chide Ramsay, but in general he doesn’t mind the fact the people of his city don’t so much as litter any more

Ramsay has superspeed, just like Jon

·         His supervillain name is Bolt, which frustrates Roose no end because you don’t use versions of your real name if you want it secret. 

Aerys Targaryen used to be one of the key villains in Westeros, before he was chased out and died in poverty

·         ‘Winter’ didn’t take his sister’s death well, and his former super-hero partner and close friend ‘Stag’ had been equally distraught.

Stag has since been nicknamed Stagger for his alcoholic tendencies

Aerys’s son Viserys is determined to reclaim his family’s fame

Viserys’s plans come to a halt when mob boss Drogo ties him up, duct tapes him to the streetlight across from a police precinct, and pins a note to his shirt detailing all his crimes.

His little sister and former second-in-command (in theory at least, although Viserys didn’t actually give her any power) ends up taking over his villainous army.

·         Danaerys has the utterly fairytale-princess ability to talk to animals

·         When she ends up with three gigantic monsters fawning over her, this ability is considered a lot more dangerous

She makes her way back to a home she doesn’t remember, but constantly stops to deal out her ruthless version of justice.

·           And the thing is, most people agree that it counts as justice.

No-one is quite sure when it happens, but by the time she arrives in Westeros she’s considered a hero

Dany loves it far more than she ever liked the idea of being a villain

She keeps her family’s scary reputation alive, but makes sure to not be part of it

·         She doesn’t always succeed

Being raised by villains means that Dany occasionally has moments where she doesn’t realise what seems obvious to traditional heroes, and has more than once murdered criminals in her justice crusade

·         The people she murders are always the actual worst, though, not petty crooks like the Boltons slaughter

She toes the line between hero and anti-hero pretty regularly, but never touches villain

She does eventually work out what would secure her place as a good guy and is established as one of Westeros’s most powerful heroes.

Ygritte is a criminal

Jon catches her one day breaking and entering. He arrests her, and asks why.

·         She answers very well about broken system and how being born on her side of the Wall town means that she hasn’t got any other opportunities and sometimes she’d like to eat.

·         He ends up unlocking the handcuffs and telling her to run.

A few weeks later he’s about to stop a kid getting mugged when Ygritte shows up first and beats up the mugger.

The two keep running into each other, and they quickly learn to like each other.

They develop an alliance

·         “I’ll give you information about the particularly vile crime rings I’ve heard of if you make sure it gets broken up.”

Then it turns into a real friendship.

Jon tells her his secret identity, and she never tells a soul

 “You know nothing, Ghost.”  “…Jon. My name is Jon Snow.” Without missing a beat: “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

They start hanging out together properly and eventually start dating

Jon ends up meeting a lot of Ygritte’s friends

He’d always had a kind of simple black-and-white morality, seeing criminals as unambiguously bad, but now he starts to work out the deep seated causes as to why crime happens.

·         He becomes one of the biggest advocates for better systems and against police brutality and the like.

·         It frustrates the hell out of Ygritte that just because a superhero starts saying it, people are listening when they’ve been saying it for years and no-one’s cared before

·         Then again, people are listening and she’s not one to complain if it works

Ygritte ends up getting her own costume

·         She doesn’t use it any more than once every two or so months

·         But sometimes it’s nice to run around kicking the shit out of people who objectively deserve it

Robb is amused because now Jon has no right to mock Theon’s criminal tendencies when he met his girlfriend robbing a place.

 “There’s a difference between Ygritte and a supervillain, Robb, he builds giant robots out of scrap metal and there’s never even a logical reason to build a giant robot, surely there are other ways to do it.” 

As it turns out, that something major the article mentioned that Theon was dreading he’d end up doing? He never does it, and instead ends up just straight up quitting supervillainy.

The event that triggered his surrender involved doing villainous activities near the Dreadfort.

·         Ramsay was ecstatic to have a supervillain to play with, since normally he only deals with people who litter.

“One of the Krakens, I see. Strange family that all of you are called Kraken. Perhaps I should choose you a new name for you alone? It’s not like you’ll ever use that supervillain one again.”

Theon eventually succeeds in building a phone out of whatever scraps he can find in the cell.

·         Super intelligence does come in handy.

·         In this situation, the person you need to call is a hero.

·         Robb didn’t even bother with an excuse when he got the call; he just found an empty room and threw himself out the window.

·         He arrived at the Dreadfort quickly and ended up dragging Theon back to the Direwolf ‘den’, aka their form of Batcave which is basically a large treehouse that only Sansa could be bothered to decorate.

Theon spends over a week at the Den.

Jon asked if they ought to turn Theon in to the police, because he is a supervillain and a jail cell might be nice and safe.

·         He had been waiting for Robb and Theon to admit they knew who each other were but not like this.

Theon reacts in terror because the Bolt would totally check prisons first, superhero aus mean that jails are so easy to break out of anyway.

So they let him stay for a while.

  ·         There had been several moments of “really, Robb?” the first time each Direwolf found him, but they let it pass.

·         Sansa had screamed bloody murder, which turned out to be because she was picking up on his emotions instead of being scared of him. She’d been the most vehement that he stayed there after that.

Theon spent the week building them a BatCave level security system, out of a mix of wanting to thank them, wanting some kind of safety, and wanting to build something.

·         While he was at the Dreadfort Ramsay hadn’t let him build anything, and the unused superpower was itching beneath his skin.

·         A phone out of loose screws and scrap metal had taken some effort, especially with three broken fingers and the constant terror that it would be found, but it wasn’t the buzz of properly building.

Jon had to train himself out of running everywhere, because Theon downright had a panic attack every time a blur darted into a room with him.

Robb offered to only walk as well, as a show of solidarity, but Jon told him not to worry, go ahead and fly. “I’ve got a secret identity, I can handle not showing my powers inside for a few days, I’ll just go for a run after school.”

  Eventually they call Asha to come and get him.

·         Theon’s security system came in handy, because she was close to fighting her way into the Den.

·         She got herself caught in a solid cage which took the Direwolves some time to work out how to open.

Both Theon and Asha leave the Kraken family business together.

·         Theon because he couldn’t take any more

·         Asha because her level of paternal respect had dropped to non-existent after she found out where and why Theon had gone.

“Dad why would you send him to rob a bank in the Dreadfort you had to know this would happen! Was a mystic jewel of Qarth really worth that much when you couldn’t be bothered to get it yourself?!”

Since Theon keeps his super-tech-abilities, and has the itch to keep building, he starts to design gadgets that could help out Robb.

·         Compasses, tracking handcuffs, protective gear.

·         He quickly learns to branch into tech for the rest of the Starks, and basically redoes the whole Den to be high-tech.

·         He may or may not end up the Edna Mode of this universe and help superheroes get costumes that actually work really well

·         Sansa does the sewing and the actual clothing parts. She loves the opportunity.

“Robb I take back anything bad I ever said about your best friend this is incredible”.

·         Cat also occasionally helps out with the sewing and is a bit more muted in her reaction, but is pleased because she and Sansa have been making the costumes forever. She is uncomfortably aware that all they protect is privacy. Armour is good.

 Arya goes straight to Theon and asks him not to tell anyone about her secondary ‘No-One’ disguise as he makes her a costume for it. Theon already knew she was No-One and hadn’t even realised it was a secret.

Asha meanwhile decides she can’t be bothered going the long way round for respect anymore, since super-powered genius intellect, common sense, and ruthlessness can be a pretty lethal combo in basically any career she wants. 

Jon’s secret identity works well normally, but he does a slight miscalculation.

As a kid he was never allowed to play sports because of his speed (plot points straight from the Incredibles) and he felt left out.

 So one day when Pyp asks if he wants to join in their friendly soccer game he’s delighted at the opportunity

 But since he’s never had to run while pretending that he doesn’t have super-speed, he doesn’t manage to reign himself in.

 He doesn’t realise that he now has a significant number of friends who are well aware that Jon Snow is the Ghost.

After Robb eventually convinces him that yes, he can trust the new outfit that Kraken designed, no it’s not going to turn supervillain-y on him, Pyp absently tells Jon that the new Ghost costume looks better.

Jon is shocked.

“How long have you known?” “Well, since we saw it on the TV. Honestly making the sigil smaller is much better, with it splayed over your chest it just looked like you were presenting a target for bullets.”

 Ygritte is similarly impressed with the new look.

Sam end up cultivating a social network to keep up-to-date with what superheroes are needed where, though, so it all works out. 

I’m sorry, there isn’t even a plot to this. A timeline, sure, but not a plot. Still, I’m pleased with it. Likes are great, reblogs are better, and comments/tags are incredible.

[smittyryker]

Handy Dandy (Minho)

This is a sample imagine to start off my blog; my second imagine is a request that will be posted tomorrow. Enjoy! Xo.

It was a slow day at the hut; So slow, that you began occupying yourself by lining up bandages in order of thickest to thinnest. You were alone, since Clint and Jeff offered to help the track-hoes today, asking you to stay behind in case anyone needed anything. You didn’t mind. Luckily, you liked your job. You liked helping people.

As you reached aimlessly for another roll to place along the wooden table you stood before, Newt pushed open the door with Minho by his side. Minho was clenching his fist as your eye as a Medjack quickly noticed the deep cut along the side of his arm. “You could help with this one, yeah?” Newt asked, patting his friend on the shoulder. You nod, and gesture for Minho to enter.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Newt dismissed himself, sending a quick smile your way before leaving and the door closing behind him. Your focus immediately switches to the hurt Runner.

You take his arm in your hands, inspecting the cut. Urging him to be seated, he places his bottom on one of the many chairs. They were made of wood, with a thin piece of cloth over them; Higher than the chairs the Gladers used to dine for easier examination. “Real comfy,” he says sarcastically, and you crack an empathetic smile.

“I know,” you reply, reaching over to grab a bottle of peroxide. “This may sting. I’m sorry,” you tell him apologetically as you unscrew the cap and drip the liquid onto a paper towel.

He shakes his head. “It’s alright,” he answers, but you can see the slight nervousness and anticipation on this face. This was the one thing you disliked about being a Medjack, bringing the patients any form of pain, but you knew it was what they needed to get better.

Directly in front of him you stand, your left hand holding his wrist as your right begins to dab at the wound with the wet paper towel. He winces, and his hand flies up to grasp your hip impulsively. Your eyes widen and knees almost fall weakly, slowly melting into his touch. Preceeding a shaky breath, you say, “You’re doing good, everything’s fine, and…” you pause for a quick exhale, ”done!”

A sigh of relief leaves him and you blow cool air on the cut, drying it out. He looks up at you; He’s never looked at you this close before. A lopsided smile spreads across his lips. In a soft but confident voice, he says, ”I dunno why I have to go to Clint or Jeff when you’re around,” His hand slides slowly off your waist.

“They’re good at their job,” you reply smiling, but unable to wipe the blush from your face. The loss of contact on your hipbone almost made you whine. He just shrugs, smugly.

“You’re easier on the eyes.”

A laugh falls from your lips as you grab a medium-in-thickness bandage and wrap it carefully around where the cut laid.

As your fingers lace the bandage around his muscular forearm, you can feel his eyes staring at you. Your narrow your eyes and look back up to his face. “What is it?”

He shakes his head, shrugging once again.

Your face falls slightly, but you clear your throat to berid of any visible awkwardness. You nod, tying his bandage off at the end in a tiny, almost unnoticeable, bow. Minho maneuveres his arm to look at it and chuckles. “This is badass. No shank’ll get on my bad side anymore, nosiree,” he jokes, and you grin, putting your index finger and thumb together to form and ’Okay’ sign. He laughs.

“Alright, well,” you say, almost hesitantly– Why did it have to be hesitantly?– ”You’re all fixed up. If you need me to repatch it, just come and see one of us.”

Minho fiddles with the bow, flicking it. “Well, I’ll come see you, in an event of that happening,” he says matter-of-factly, gazing at your face.

“Are you coming onto me?“ you ask flatly. It clearly took Minho aback, until he finally simpered.

“I mean, I don’t know if, uhm… Yes,” he states after stammering. You smile kindly, putting your hand on his shoulder, and he wears a goofy smile in return. The boy reached for your hand in one of his own, and places a sweet kiss atop it. You try to keep your knees from buckling under the slight touch of the astonishingly handsome boy.

“Slow day here?” Minho says after a while of not speaking.

“Yes, I thought you knew that already,” you chortle slightly.

He nods. ”So I did. Would you mind if I stayed around?”

“You know, I really would mind. You’re terrible company,” you mess with him, and he smirks.

“Thanks, shankette. It’s my job. That’s how I got this cut.”

You smile and gently shove his shoulder at the newfound nickname. It was odd to you that someone you had known so little about personally had ignited this side of you. The sarcastic side that enjoyed to be visited once in a while. Maybe a lot more often than you’d ever pictured.

You turn, and begin scribbling chicken scratch onto a slip of paper by the wooden table. The presence of the beautiful young man didn’t make you uneasy, as it was in a way, comforting.

”I don’t wanna keep you,” you say without turning around, not sarcastically this time, but politely nonetheless. He sniffs and you see him nod from the corner of your eye.

“I’ll make sure to throw myself off my feet any chance I get,” he winks.

“Sounds sexy,” you say in a tone that makes it hard for him to tell if you’re joking. A loud laugh from your lips finally gives him his answer.

He smiles, but it quickly fades. “I’m being serious, though. I wanna know you, Y/N.”

Your eyes lock on his and neither of you look away. “I thought I was the only one,” you tell him, and he snickers.

“Thought wrong,” he winks.

And for the next few weeks, you guys became friends– with immense levels of sexual tension (that you chose to ignore.) It wasn’t always easy, though. It wasn’t easy when Minho would come back after a run; his hair still looking flawless and his muscles evident as he smiled at you; sometimes adding a wink that could send you over the edge.

You never had even thought of teasing him. There was no point. You were wrapped around his finger, without openly displaying it, and he had no idea.

A new Greenie came up that night; and a much-needed bonfire took place. Ever since Minho’s deep scar, it seemed like Gladers turned into patients left and right. Gally fell off a ladder, Ben dislocated his ankle, and Winston almost chopped off his finger; all in a couple of weeks. You were glad you had some time to cool down.

Your presence was on a tree stump, and within a few minutes, Minho plopped down beside you on the grass. He had a mason jar of Gally’s vile recipe in his hand, waving it towards you. You shake your head, and he eyes you. “Okay,” he says, setting it down in front of him.

The bonfire really starts soon after that, and you feel the fire hitting your face. It soothes you, and reminds you that not every experience you have in the Glade will be bad. This mantra repeated in your head when the Runner was around.

“I heard Frypan added some klunk to Gally’s god-awful recipe.”

“That doesn’t make me wanna drink it any more,” you laugh, and he grins like a Cheshire cat.

“Makes sense to me.”

Newt comes in, tipsy as you have ever seen him. His eyes were dancing around the bonefire, a smile plastered onto his boss-like face. “Hey! Minho! Get us some more to drink, yeah?”

“Do you wanna come?” He asks.

You shake your head up and down, pushing yourself off the stump into a standing position. Minho does the same, more swiftly than you. Of course he does. He leads the way to the Kitchen, Frypan’s beloved. You take the opportunity to look at Frypan, an intoxicated, giggling young man.

Drunk Gladers paraded around the Glade, with no direct destination in their thoughts. They ran around haphazardly, cackling and shoving each other playfully. A gasp left your lips as a piece of wood was thrown in your peripheral, and you feel Minho’s fingertips touch yours. He, continuing to go at his pace, laces his hand with yours and pulls you closer to his back.

As more befuddled Gladers pass, you press your body to his back fully. He lets out a breathy laugh, gripping onto you tighter.

When you both step into the kitchen, he lets your hand go and you back your body away from his; making yourself busy with pouring the liquid drug into more jars. He quickly reaches to grab your arm as you begin pouring the third jar.

“No, slinthead! You saw them out there. How much more of a free-for-all do you want this to shucking turn into?”

Sending him a look, you put away the alcohol and hand him a full mason jar, with another in your hand. You hoped not one singer Glader would hog the jar and chug it all, but the prayed some of them weren’t as stupid as they seem.

“Are we the only sober ones?” you ask.

“No idea. Maybe I should use my pocket breathalyzer on them all and pick out the normals from the drunkies.”

“Maybe you should.”

Suddenly, a scream ripped through the Glade and you pushed the drink into Minho’s hands, taking off running at whoever the created the ear-shattering noise. There Zart lay, on the ground, with his arm bent crookedly. You wince at the sight, but pull him up, motioning for the crowd of Gladers to get out of your way.

“Are you drunk?”

“No!” he sighs, quickly. “No, I’m not,” he repeats, more calmly this time.

Tears are welling up in his eyes by the time you finally make it back to the Medjack hut together. You were so focused on fixing the boy that you didn’t notice Minho in the doorway as you spoke to Zart.

“I’m gonna have to put it back in place. Sorry in advance,” you apologize, and a tear falls from his face as he grabs your hand.

“Y/N, please, just help me,” he cried. You felt guilty once again.

“On three,” you tell him, before snapping his arm back into place. He screams and you shake.

“What the hell!” He yells, and you put a comforting hand on his cheek. “Shh. It’s over.”

Zart walks out the door back into the Glade, and you fell a hand on your waist, pulling you into a hard chest. If it were Zart, you would have turned around and kicked him. But it was Minho.

“Why do you have to be so good at your job?” he asks rhetorically, as if you weren’t pressed up against his abs.

“I don’t know what you m—“

“I’m not joking. You’re shucking made for it.”

A blush creeps on your face, but Minho can’t see it. He turns you around in his arms, and he presses a kiss to your cheek, and you reach for his hand.

“Why-” he brushes a hand through his hair, deep in thought. His eyes were passionate, but you couldn’t read them, so he finished. “Why aren’t we together?”

You sucked in a gulp of air that dried your throat and coughed, Minho quickly coming to your rescue and patting you on the back to steady your breathing. You liked Minho. You really did, but he was so nonchalant about it. It made you wonder about him.

“Why do you want to be with me?” you ask, tearing your eyes from his beautiful ones and gazing at your shoes.

“I don’t. You stink, Y/N.”

You slap his chest and are about to walk away from him until he grabs onto your shoulder and pulls you back into his embrace. He leans his mouth down to your ear and speaks softly; lovingly.

“You’re good at your job. So diligent. So… gorgeous. It almost makes me shucking hate you, but I just can’t! And I’ve tried, believe me, I really shucking have.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t talk,” you advise, a small grin escaping through your rough tone.

He lets out a breath he had been holding in, as of he was relieved, and you shifted in his arms.

“I wanted to say that you’re tougher than these shuck-faces. You see people hurting everyday.”

“You see people hurting, too,” you say softly.

“It’s different with me. I’m not handy.”

“Niether am I. The builders are handy. Maybe Gally’s who you need to hold,” you joke, and he gags.

“Don’t even. You make people feel better without even trying.”

Minho made you feel like you had achieved greatness, even in a place like the Glade– possibly the place with the least amount of hope. Closing your eyes, a sweet kiss was placed on the shell of your ear.

Instantly, you melted into him.