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semicolonsspace · 4 months

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Him (your favorite) (Stiles//Dylan O'Brien)

No use of names. Just pet names and Y/n.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Roleplay, unprotected sex, edging, begging, praise kink, degradation kink, Bondage (use of handcuffs), breeding kink, stretch kink(?), mommy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace.

"Honey, I'm home," he yells as he shuts the door. He would always do this, he would always say it's 'hilarious'. Y/n found it humorous so soon after they made it a thing she started doing it as well. But except she put her spin onto it, talking like a 1940s housewife that just got back running errands.

Y/n rounds the corner to the front door. She was wearing his favorite, his T-shirt and shorts— or at least he thought she was wearing some; She wasn't. She was doing errands around the house in his shirt—Which mostly consisted of organizing the new room they had just renovated— more like Y/n renovated because she wanted it to be perfect!

"Hello, dear," she says in her housewife's voice. He laughs at her and pulls her in by the hips to kiss her. His hands snaked under the shirt she wore and slapped her ass when he realized she was only wearing underwear and his shirt. "You tryna kill me today?" He asks in a guttural groan. Her forehead rested on his as she smiled lovingly at her boyfriend of two wonderful years. "Not currently."

He gave her a playful shrewd look. "I think I'm already dead, then," he hums suggestively as he pulls hair out of her face, then resting his hand to cup it. His soft touch sent a chill down her spine as she stared up at him with lust that was masked by playfulness. "Oh, yeah?" She starts as she bats her eyelashes. "Well, I guess I might have to resurrect you."

He looked intrigued by her choice of words, choosing a decision for himself he indulged her humorous antics. "How so?"

"By laying you on my sacrificial altar bed and extracting your life force fluids," she jokingly purrs at him. That seemed good enough for him because he slung her body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As he walked he shreaded his layers then threw her on their bed.

Y/n scolded him for being so careless, as she almost hit her head on the metal bed frame. She pulls him down, and pulls his shirt off effortlessly—as she had done it so many times before due to the numerous times of "catching up sex" they had due to his work. She pins his pale buffed arms to the mattress while speaking. "Now, baby. Don't you remember how I said 'I' have to extract some fluids?"

He looks up at her and smirks. He decided to indulge her roleplay and started improvising lines. "Please, don't hurt me— I'll be good— you said you needed fluids, take my spit anything but my blood!" He whined with feigning horror. But she knew he was aroused, she could feel it— feel his 7-inch cock pressing— begging to be drained by her— and if he was lucky he could have her cunt to grip her tight.

Y/n chuckles darkly, something he thought was too authentic to be in their present roleplay. "I never specified which fluid I needed, dummy."

His eyes widened when he 'realized' what she meant. "By all means, go ahead— just don't kill me— please—" he begged once more. Y/n plants a soft kiss on his pointed elf-like nose as if saying 'good.'

That led to having him cuffed to the bed for hours. Her hand wrapped around his cock— jerking it just to stop before he would release. She wanted him to explode when he did so. And she wanted it to be inside of her. She wanted to feel the familiarity of the thick warm liquid rife her up just for it to enter her cervix. She was on the pill, plus she had a few boxes of plan B she liked to keep a stack of.

"Mama! Please! Just let me cum! I'll be good!" He screams, fake tears streaming from his eyes. Some of them were genuine tears from how delicious the pleasure was.

"Will you be my little ingredient holder?" She tilted her head as she spoke, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. "I need lots of human sperm to make my potions, would you like that? For me to milk you dry every day?"

He lets out a guttural groan that she didn't think was part of the roleplay. This was purely him. He was enjoying every bit of this, lapping up all the attention his girlfriend gave her.

The last statement was proved by his hips thrusting into her hips in an attempt to chase his orgasm. She stops and rubs his stomach. "How many times was that? 6 times? 6 potential orgasms just for me to stop... That makes me powerful don't you think? To have the ability to stop you from doing something your body chases? It's okay though, you'll get it soon."

Then her cunt was hovering over his red cock that was tortured for the last 2 hours. He nodded eagerly as he babbled how much he needed her to finish him off— to give her the "ingredient" she needed. She sat on him, wincing at how big he was, Every time she had him in her at first she would always be shocked by how much he stretched her fluttering walls.

"Going to be the best ingredient ever— make the strongest potion," she praises, continuing their little roleplay. He didn't seem to be acting anymore due to the immense pleasure, mostly just him begging for mercy for her to finish him off finally.

"For fucks sake— please just ride me, mama— need it," he whines, actual tears falling down his face. He was ruined— disheveled. And she felt glorious; she had done that. She had made him feel so divine just for her to deny his unholy release six whole times.

Y/n clicks her tongue and slaps his chest slightly, before reaching back and squeezing his balls. By his reaction she knew it was painful from how much he groaned— a different type of groan— he needed that release and she was just toying with him— She had been toying with him this whole time. "Next time you won't finish. I may need the ingredient but I can always use other fluids," she warns darkly.

He seemed to get that she was still roleplaying and nodded, breathing a sorry that was soon sucked in as she started hopping on him, his dick curve hitting her spot every time she sheathed onto him.

Her hands rested on his pecs before finding his nipples and tugging on them harshly. "Pretty boy looks so good fucked out for me," she whispers into his ear, her one hand caressing his sweaty hair. "Only for you." His eyes flutter, his mouth staying open. She kissed him— now instead of hopping, she was rocking into him, which seemed more sensual to them as they moaned in sync, telling each other they loved each other, completely forgetting about the roleplay. Now it was just the couple of two years that have lived with each other for eleven months.

Y/n reaches for the cuffs and he shakes his head while begging a no. "Keep them on, please," he moans.

Her mouth forms a smile before opening from the pleasure. She gets an idea so they both have what they want. "Wanna feel you touch me," she says uncuffing one singular cuff. His hand immediately finds her hip while his hips thrust into her—seeming like he was trying to gain control.

"Fucking being a brat for not letting me cum, baby," he groans as he pinches her nipple. She smiles at him before kissing his neck. "Good," she whispers, before unlatching the other cuff. Then she was flipped on her stomach, her ass in the air, her face buried in the mattresses as he plunged his abused cock into her. "Oh, you feel so good—way better than your hand, that's for damn sure," he murmurs breathily. Y/n was clawing at the mattress, bratty almost pornographic moans being muffled into the light grey satin sheets.

She lifts her head finally, positioning her body to arch, her elbows propping her up as he continued to rail her pussy into oblivion. "Cum in me— wanna feel you-"

He cuts her off before she continues with a humorous moaning chuckle. "Trust me, I'm gonna fucking milk every fuckin' drop inside this pussy, gonna stuff it full so you can carry my baby," he growls, making his thrust harder to punch— not kiss— her cervix. She squeals as a sudden wave of intense pleasure knocks her out. Her vision faded black and he coaxed her, his thrust becoming sloppy before he stilled in her. He doubles over from the climax, whispering praises into her ear. "S'good, I love you so much, honey," was all she could make out.

She thought he was the one who was going to be exhausted but he kept going, his cock continuing to piston inside of her for round two. She was more than okay with it, letting him use her just how he wanted; he deserved it.

By the time he stuffs her brim full with a second orgasm, she is on her back. The cum oozed out of her cunt as he pestered wet-sloppy and open-mouth kisses all over her neck and chest. She was bound to have marks all over her in the morning. "Look at that, baby," he says as he plays with his release around the hole. He was still inside, his finger lapping up the release and stuffing it back into her.

"Fuck, don't do that, or we're doing a round three," y/n squeals. He smiles cheekily at her and stuffs his finger into her again.

His cock and his finger were both inside, stretching her to limits she never thought she would be able to with him. Then he starts thrusting slowly, his vacant hand holding her ankle in the air so he can have maximum access to his favorite toy.

"We need to get those ankle holders like hospitals have so I can fuck you better," he says between grunts. "Or a fuck machine so I can get payback."

At the mention of the machine, she screams, especially because he removes his finger and presses it onto her stomach. "Scream for me again, baby: tell the whole fuckin' neighborhood I'm breeding my little whore again."

And she did, she couldn't take his rough thrust with his hand pushing on her stomach, it made her tighter— sensitive. But she could not bring herself to stop such amazing pleasure.

His stamina never seemed to shock Y/n. It did at first, having to beg her to eat her out. She let him, barely saying no simply because it was a win-win. He would always say "I get pleasure from eating my girl out, I don't need anything else." Which she loved, it almost became a love language for him to do so. While she answer emails for her stay-at-home job—when he was home that is— he would rarely pass an opportunity to either 1: eat her out or two: fuck her while she worked— and trust the universe, he made sure she would take it while working whatever she did on her computer.

He soon got tired of the position and pulled her by her thighs, manhandling her and flipping her back on her stomach. Y/n pushed herself down the bed, her feet touching the ground in front of him. He pushed himself back in, his hands grabbing her hips so he could pull her back onto him repeatedly. His thrust was a little harder, exactly how she wanted right now, making loud pleasured moans to leave her lips— along with many praise for him for how good he made her feel.

She then pushes herself off, causing them both to stand, he gets the hint and pulls her close, grabbing by the throat to choke her. Her vision fades a bit, from the pleasure of his cock hitting her cervix and his slender hand stifling air from her throat. "I love you, honey. 'Missed you at work; 'Could only think of my beautiful girl all alone at home," he says between moans. "My good fucking girl," he growls as he moves her hair from her face just to return to her throat. His thrust never faltered either, his words, and admiration, all pushing her over the edge so hard she went limp. "Did I fuck you too dumb, baby? Awe, my poor baby." He then pushes her face back into the mattress, spreading her cheeks to gain better access to his cock moving into her pussy repeatedly. "Take me so well," he groans, massaging the fatty flesh of her rump.

Y/n was too far into subspace to talk. She could barely even comprehend his dirty words, plus the painful pleasure she had from overstimulation of her recent orgasm was going straight to her head.

He continues to fuck her, eventually picking her back up and carrying her to the bathroom—while fucking her. Her arms wrap around his shoulder lazily, his hands steadily gripping her ass to push her onto his cock repeatedly. He lays her down in the huge circle bathtub, turning the water on and continuing his work to chase his own orgasm. "Baby, fucking love you and your pussy, both of my girls make me so happy," he then doubles over, his face going for her neck, stifled whimpers escaping his mouth traveling from her neck to her ears.

Y/n holds him, her hands rubbing his back as he finishes for the third time inside of her. "I love you too, dear," she whispers. He whimpers causing her to chuckle. "Too sensitive?" She asks, feeling his dick twitch inside of her. He nods into her and she splashes water onto his body. "You wanna take a nap in the bathtub?"

He moves his face to look at her with a dumbfounded expression. "Honey, as much as I love being in your embrace, I don't want to risk you drowning."

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heliads · 2 years

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hii! if you do still write for the maze runner, could i have a minho and reader fic, kinda enemies to lovers where she gets drunk one night and insists on sitting next him and hes just really snarky and confused?she ends up laying her head on his shoulder and is completely enamoured by his hands? (absentmindedly plays with it,admires it) and the others notice it and tease them relentlessly, maybe he has to carry her to bed and she asks pleads for him to stay? and the next morning they get teased even more?? totally fine if you dont want to but thanks!!!💕

omg enemies to lovers with minho

masterlist

Minho only has time for two things right now: one, making it out of the Maze long enough to scratch out the day’s findings in the Map Room, and two, his best friend Newt. Today isn’t like the other days, although it seems like it due to the endless litany of tasks that always seem to await him. He wakes up early, he runs the Maze, he comes back and helps everyone else pretend that they’re totally getting closer to finding a way out, even though they aren’t. Even though they may never find such a thing.

That’s why Newt’s so high on Minho’s list of priorities right now. Today differs from the others because it’s an important day for the Gladers, it’s Greenie Day. Some unlucky kid was sent up here while Minho was out mapping the Maze, some kid who’s probably already fighting back tears at the prospect of being stuck out here with the rest of them until the day that he dies. It’s not a pleasant life, Minho can attest to that. The Greenbean’s about to find that out for himself.

Still, the newbie will be a part of the Glade from this day forward, which means that Minho’s either going to befriend him, tolerate him, or just avoid him for as long as possible. Or her. There technically has been one girl sent up here, but Minho does his best to spend as little time thinking about her as possible, so he can’t be blamed for reverting back to the old belief that only boys could ever be sent up in the Box.

Newt leans against the door of the Map Room, waiting for Minho to finish tallying out all the turns he took this morning. Minho only has so long to remember the precise pattern of corridors before they flicker out of his head, and Newt knows it. If today’s Greenie caused serious problems, Newt would have mentioned it as Minho was walking out of the Doors. On a casual day like today, though, the blond second in command doesn’t mind waiting.

Newt straightens up once he sees that Minho is done. “All ready, then?”

Minho nods, heading out of the shade of the Map Room to rejoin the land of the living. “All ready. What are your takes on the Greenie?”

Newt shrugs. “Seems like all the others. A bit shaken up, certainly. You might want to check any new supplies that were sent up for you, the kid got a nosebleed and started spewing blood over a few boxes near him. We think we’ve gotten most of it off, though.”

Minho makes a face. “Start him on a course as a Slopper for that. If we have to clean up his blood, he has to clean up ours.”

Newt chuckles. “Can’t say that I haven’t thought about it. He doesn’t seem all that bad, though. Doesn’t remember his name, of course, but who does?”

“He is a boy, though?” Minho asks, careful to keep his tone unassuming.

Newt still sees through him, just like always. “Yeah, a boy. What, Y/N won you over so easily that you want another girl around?”

Minho makes a face. “Don’t remind me of her. I’m just curious. Feels weird that they would send up one girl and no others. Maybe I want someone else who’s pretty and doesn’t make me want to jump into the Box Hole and see what happens.”

Newt arches a brow. “You think Y/N’s pretty?”

“Pretty annoying,” Minho says through a deadpan stare.

Newt snorts. “Hilarious, Minho. Remind me, though, what exactly is your problem with Y/N? She’s friends with the rest of us. Personally, I think she’s just fine.”

Minho’s brow furrows, as it always seems to at the mention of Y/N. “I’m sure she’s fine with you, just not with me. We don’t talk that often ‘cause I’m always out in the Maze, and when we do, we only ever find problems with each other.”

“That’s just because you only talk to each other after a long day when you’re both starving,” Newt says, “you always pick the worst time to interact. I swear, if you found her on one of your days off and actually had a proper conversation, you’d enjoy each other’s company a lot more.”

“But why would I want to waste my rest day on my mortal enemy?” Minho asks, eyes opened wide in an expression of mock horror and derision.

Newt just grins. “I suppose you’d have to wait and find out. Honestly, I swear the two of you could actually be good friends.”

Minho presses his lips together. “Yeah, just like me and Gally. I’m sure we’ll be best buds sometime soon.”

Newt laughs and mercifully drops the subject. Neither of them want to complain for a while, anyway, they’ve got a stellar evening planned. The best part of a Greenie day isn’t the arrival of another stumbling, wide-eyed burden to bear, it’s the afterparty. Bonfire Nights are fantastic, they always are. Gally’ll get into a fight with somebody, then one of the Gladers will get so drunk that everyone can tell stories for months afterwards. What’s not to love?

The sun sets soon enough, and the rushing darkness brings a tide of Gladers all gradually headed towards the site of the bonfire. They don’t head there directly, but by chance, swinging in and out of the area until one looks up and finds themselves surrounded by friends. That is how it is in the Glade, Minho supposes, although everyone pretends to be tough as nails they’d follow whoever they needed if would mean they wouldn’t feel so alone.

That’s a dark enough thought, though, so Minho pushes it to the back of his head along with the rest of the restless worries that tend to creep over him once dusk falls. Tonight is for fun. He can stress later.

Minho catches up with the rest as everyone circles around a stack of logs dragged out by the Builders about an hour or so earlier. He arms himself with a branch about as long as his arm, lights it on fire, and launches it at the bonfire alongside Newt and Alby. He used to pretend to be a hero when he did this during the first few months of his arrival to the Glade, some warrior or fighter in an ancient war. Anything to disguise the face that he is still relentlessly here, even after everything he’s been through to try and leave it. He’s long since given up pretending.

Minho stumbles upon his friend group soon enough, arranged somewhat on the outskirts of the whole Bonfire Night gathering. They’ve got a good view of Gally’s fighting ring without being within the Keeper’s line of sight, which is perfect for those who wish to watch the matches without actually being dragged into them.

Minho has already helped himself to enough of Gally’s hospitality through his special drinks, so he thinks he’s good without a fight for tonight. There was one time a few months back when he’d been arguing with Gally for a while and Minho had actually bothered to go into the ring and solve a few problems with his fists. That had been a good night.

For now, though, Minho is content to sit back, drink too much, and listen to his friends’ tongues loosen as the hours pass by. The sun set long ago, and he can watch as the golden light of the bonfire slowly swallows all of them whole.

He’s briefly startled when a figure appears out of the gloom and slides into a seat next to him, tossing her head back to enjoy a sudden breeze. Minho narrows his eyes at her.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

He didn’t mean for the question to come off that harshly, but he’s not about to apologize. Just as he said to Newt earlier this afternoon, Minho and Y/N have rarely said anything to each other that wasn’t bitter. They just don’t get along well, that’s all.

Y/N, however, just grins back at him, apparently unbothered by his attitude. “Sitting. I thought it was obvious.”

Minho’s eyes narrow. “Yeah, but why next to me?”

Y/N shrugs, taking a mouthful from an already severely depleted glass of Gally’s brew. “It was an open spot. You may not like me that much, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up a perfectly good place just because you’re pouting at me.”

Minho frowns, raising an accusatory finger in the air. “I am not pouting.”

Judging by the upward slash of Y/N’s smile, though, he may not be right about that.

“Of course not. And I’m not the best looking one here by far.”

Minho almost laughs but manages to keep it to himself just in time. Newt appears to have seen through him anyway, though, the blond boy looks altogether far too proud of himself. Minho glares at him, which just makes Newt’s smile broaden.

As the night wears on, Minho finds himself surprisingly alright with Y/N’s presence. He was preparing himself for all out war, an exchange of insults and vitriol just like every other time they’ve tried not to speak, but for some reason, tonight is different. It’s for the best, too; Minho wouldn’t want Bonfire Night ruined by his supposed enemy when he only gets this kind of celebration once a month.

About an hour or so into the whole affair, Minho is abruptly dragged out of watching the festivities play out when he feels something on his shoulder. He glances over to see Y/N leaning against him, her head tilted against the top of his bicep. Were it any other day, he would have all but shoved her off, but for some reason today he stays stock still so as to not encourage any movement.

Instead, he looks at her, really looks at her for what must be the first time in forever. She is pretty, he hadn’t been lying about that. Perhaps everyone who looks at her must fall in love, perhaps that is why Minho has spent all this time running from this inevitability just like he does all the others. Even the firelight is enamored with her, it traces lines of gold up and down her arms, collecting on the lines of her fingers as they reach for Minho’s.

He feels himself tense up as she takes his hand. Her touch is soft, feather-light, yet it still shakes him to the core. Minho watches as she turns over his hand, gently tracing his palm.

“You have nice hands,” she murmurs under her breath, and Minho has to remind himself that she’s only doing this because she’s drunk and he’s drunk and nothing has to matter at all.

Still, that doesn’t mean he has to pull away. Minho’s hands are tanned from spending all his hours out running in the sun, and hardened from calluses. For a moment, he’s almost embarrassed to have her looking at them. That being said, to leave now or otherwise push her aside seems impossible, so he stays quiet and only feels himself relax when she repeats her intoxicated whisper about how much she likes his hands.

Truth be told, Minho doesn’t know how long he would have stayed there were it not for the voices of his friends interrupting the whole thing. He feels as if a spell has been cast upon him, trapping him in place. He could have remained there the whole night, Y/N’s head still on his shoulder and her hands still wrapped around his.

Frypan’s voice, by contrast, is a rude awakening. “So, what’s all this about? I thought you hated each other.”

Minho jerks his gaze up with a start. “We’re– we don’t–”

Newt cuts him off with a broad grin. “See, what have I been telling you? They’re perfect for each other. It’s adorable.”

Minho glares. “Oh, shut up. If you weren’t drunk as a skunk I’d meet you in Gally’s ring for saying that.”

Frypan snorts. “Deflecting, are we? Just face it, Minho, you can’t pretend you hate her forever.”

Minho rolls his eyes with as much incredulity as he can muster, but that doesn’t mean he moves a millimeter. The boys’ teasing comments fade into the background when he looks over at Y/N, and vanish fully into silence when she meets his gaze and smiles at him. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a smile he likes so much as that one.

When the night ends, for unfortunately even a night as golden as this one must surely end, Minho finds himself reluctant to stand up. He’s certain that Y/N is asleep by now, and he doesn’t want to wake her up. She just looks so quiet there, so peaceful. Peace is rare around here, so why should Minho be the one to rob her of that bliss?

Carefully, he stands and gathers her up into his arms. He starts the walk back to the hammocks, weaving around people and trees as if he were in a dream. At one point, Newt appears out of the gloom, grinning at Minho as he half disappears in the dark of night.

“What did I tell you? A regular Prince Charming, you are.” Newt says.

Minho makes a face, but when he blinks Newt is gone again, vanishing back into the darkened land and sky. Minho manages to make it to the hammocks and gently lays Y/N down, smoothing a roughspun blanket around her so she doesn’t feel the chill of the wind currently pushing them together.

He spends one last moment there, feeling his drinks weigh him down with all the weight of the world. One of her hands is turned up, as if reaching for him even now. He lets his fingers brush it once before he, too, evaporates into the darkness.

It’s bright outside. Minho doesn’t know how that happened, how he managed to get from Y/N’s hammock to his or even when he fell asleep, but the next thing he knows, it’s morning again. He drags a tired hand over his face. Man, he forgot how his head always pounds the morning after Bonfire Night. He feels like an army of enraged Builders has gone to war against his skull.

Minho pulls himself up. Thankfully, today is his off day, so he won’t have to get up at dawn and try to run after all of this. Instead, he’s greeted by the sight of his friends, who are all beaming at him with the kind of triumph that tells Minho he’s about to be teased relentlessly.

Frypan chuckles as he laces up his shoes. “If it isn’t our favorite romantic. You know, I didn’t know you had that much game.”

Minho blinks for a second, confused, and then remembers everything that had happened the night before. The drinks, the fire, Y/N with her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. Things happen.” He manages.

Newt’s eyes widen. “You’re not going to try and push it off again? You can finally admit that you’re head over bloody heels for the girl?”

“Hey, I never said anything of the sort. I’m just saying that things happened, alright?” Minho says hastily.

Frypan grins. “We’re sure. Go wake up your Sleeping Beauty, I’m sure she’d like to see you.”

Minho waves a hand at them as they dissolve into laughter. Maybe he will go talk to Y/N anyway. He certainly has a few things that have just come to mind, things about feelings that he didn’t know existed until last night.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @hiya-its-amber, @thatfangirl42, @gods-fools-heroes

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phoenixtears13 · 4 days

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maze runner x marauders crossover?

#someone pls make this #i need this in my life #the maze runner #maze runer x mauraders #mauraders #james potter #james x regulus #marauders era

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star--anon · 3 months

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it's my firm belief that the little Fire party the Gladers do in the first movie is a monthly thing, always done when the Greenie arrives in order to celebrate new life and the fact that the Gladers are still alive

#y'know what I mean?#technically the movies debunk this (sorta) but fuck it #I don't take constructive criticism because I'm not wrong #maze runer

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gouinisme · 1 month

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why on god's green earth is the maze runer trending i haven't thought about those books since middle school

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treekillersblog · 1 year

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Hi this is my first post and i have something i want to say.

I will write fanatics and here is a list on what i will write

Smut /lemon

Lime

Comfort

Angst

Kids au (no ships for this one tho)

I will not write eny thing else

Some games and or shows i will write for

Obey me

Diabolik lovers

Kissed by the bassist bidders

cookie run kingdom

Madoka Magica

Mr love

LoveUnholic

Yandere simulator (i do female but i would prefer the male rivels)

The maze runer too

Also i do take game recommendations

Genders will be they/them unless you want different

Thats all my little trees

#the maze runner #obey me #mr love fanfic #yandere #diabolik brothers #love unholyc #cookierun kingdom #kissed by the baddest bidder

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queenofnightdreamland · 2 years

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Hola, quería preguntarte ¿para que fandom y personajes escribes?, ¿o solo son los de tu masterlist?

Hola, anon, gracias por preguntar.

Escribo LOTR (Legolas, Glorfindel, los gemelos Elladan y Elrohir y Thranduil), Food wars (Dormitorio estrella polar, gemelos Aldini, hayama, kurokiba, dojima, shinomiya, alice y Kuga), naruto (sakura, neji, sasuke, itachi), jujutsu (gojo, nanami, inumaki), mlqc (Victor, lucien, Shaw, gavin, kiro), mm (todos excepto ray), maze runer (newt, Thomas, minho), dr.stone solo senku, sombra y hueso solo Alexander morozova, kimetsu (los pilares, equipo tanjiro), Star wars (obi-wan, anakin, ahsoka), star trek solo kirk...

Creo que olvidé algunos más, pero no recuerdo.

Esos serían, por el momento. Si no lo mencioné puedes preguntar igualmente 😊

#anon ask

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minhos-runner · 3 years

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Thomas: I can explain!

Newt: Can you?

Thomas: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

#the maze runer #maze runner #tmr #incorrect quotes #thomas #tmr thomas #maze runner thomas #newt #tmr newt #maze runner newt

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newtmaspassion · 5 years

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So this happened and everyone under his comment are replying with 'NEWTMAS'.

I don't want to let my hopes up but I know I will and so I'm gonna say:

LET IT BE A NEWTMAS FILM

or at least Dylmas interactions

#newtmas #newtmas film #let newt be alive #it can happen for so many reasons #newt x thomas #newt #thomas #the maze runer #the scortch trials #the death cure #wes ball #dylan o’brien #thomas brodie sangster #dylmas

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jordanthatblondegirl · 5 years

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Jo’s Notes: The Maze Runner

“Thomas felt a wire of nervousness tighten inside him, pinching his gut. It was actually here - they were going for real now, no more talking and thinking about it.”

The Maze Runner by James Dashner had been a book I had heard about in relation to the books of the earlier 2010’s. It came about during the crazes around The Hunger Games and Divergent in the early 2000′s. It seemed like The Maze Runner was their not-quite-as-popular-but-still-well-loved relative in the YA dystopia family. So, with that and the fact there was going to be a movie adaption (which I’m always a sucker for), I put it down on my To-Read list.

The concept of the world is pretty devastating. The population of near-future Earth is trying to regain its footing after quite possibly the worst kind of natural disaster: a sun flare. One of the major things standing in the way is a deadly disease named for that same disaster. In order to cure it, scientists create an enormous experiment with a group of teenage boys to serve as their subjects. The world is fascinating and brings up so many questions.

That’s the world readers eventually enter, but, intiatilly, all they know is the Box that brings the main character, Thomas, to the Glade. The Glade is home to that group of teenage boys, which fills out the majority of the story’s cast of characters, and these boys don’t know how to start off on the right foot.

I became incredibly frustrated when the Gladers wouldn’t tell Thomas anything. Maybe this frustration was supposed to put the readers in Thomas’ shoes. However, if that was the goal, it fell short for me. Instead, not getting any answers - not even a “I’ll explain it later” - made it hard for me to get into the story. I would think after two years of people showing up monthly, they would have a short spiel to give the newbie, or “Greenie”, in this case. It would’ve been nice to be given some basics to tide us over until the full explanation.

After much longer than I would’ve liked, a basic world was build up for readers. We understood how the Glade worked. We understood, to a point, there would be some futuristic technology (like the Grievers) involved. We understood that something out of the ordinary and most likely bad was happening when Teresa showed up. We understood this world of the Maze.

Then, Thomas and Teresa became telepathic. This is where I drew the line.

There was already so much about Thomas - and later Teresa - that made them so incredibly exceptional. I felt like adding a perfectly clear channel of mental communication between them was just overkill. Perhaps if it hadn’t been so much like a face-to-face conversation and had instead been something like, “I have an idea that I don’t know where it came from, but I trust it,” then I might have been more receptive to it.

It took me about half way through the book before I was really drawn into the drama of the story. The story takes place over a week or two, but it move more like it took place over a couple months. I think the best written, most engaging part of the book was the planning and execution of the Gladers’ final plan to escape the Maze. Writing action sequences and building that tension can be a tricky beast to tame. It’s easier in movies when there are multiple elements to rely on, but Dashner timed this part well and had level of detail that made me eagerly turn the page, wondering if Thomas was right.

I, also, really enjoyed how Dashner gave the final key of the Maze to Chuck. Chuck was such a young character that no one gave much credit to begin; he wasn’t seen as smart or strong or fast or anything better than a person to clean up the Gladers’ messes. To have him piece together the final clue when both resident super geniuses couldn’t reminded readers that he wasn’t just Thomas’ fanboy. Then, he was killed ten pages later. To refer back to one of the notes I wrote while reading this passage: what was the purpose of that, you fucking monster?

I don’t want anyone thinking I absolutely hated this book. I was wholly drawn into the world and wanted to see if Thomas and his friends would triumph. It’s just that there were some elements that aren't as strong as I thought they would be for a book that’s gotten so much praise. If it hadn’t been as popular as a series as it was, I probably would’ve quit reading it. However, it was a popular title, so I can only hope it’s a story that grows on me.

Rating: 2 / 5 stars

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