#where I just trust the show runners to know what they’re about

[novelconcepts]

Man, to have this story be about a girls’ soccer team in particular. Girls, who are taught to play by clean rules of society that must be actively unlearned in the wilderness. Athletes, who famously operate on superstition, rituals so easily transformed in crisis to matters of life and death. A team, which fundamentally cannot succeed if all parties aren’t working in tandem for the good of the whole. It’s so smart, and so simple, and goddamn, I love Yellowjackets.

#yellowjackets #it’s! so! excellent! it feels like early seasons of orphan black #where I just trust the show runners to know what they’re about #because everything from casting to music choice to symbolism is deliberate #and while there are a few elements of season 2 I’m not as crazy about I overall really really dig what they’re putting out there #I want to talk about this show to EVERYONE while knowing full well it will so not be half of people’s cup of tea #I’m like ‘it’s weird and fucked up and tragic PLEASE OBSESS WITH ME I’M BEGGING’

[magicxc]

Movie Genres

Pairings: Survey Coprs - their fave movie genres

Word Count: 835

Warnings: netflix and chill? hulu subscription? binge watching disney?

A/N: I LOVE a good movie okay!! Put me in front of a juicy plot and I'm SAT. Here are the genres that I think the boys would enjoy most!! Tell me yours 🍿🎥🎬 

Eren  - Action/Thriller 

Eren def strikes me as the type to enjoy loud movies that’s fast paced and chocked full of fighting scenes. Even though he has a special appreciation for the martial arts he can still get down with some good ole hand to hand combat. Anything that elicits excitement and anticipation does it for him.

Levi - Western Film

Walk with me here. I’ve seen Kenny reference and even dress cowboyish. I think he’d be all for the genre and considering his influence on Levi, it’s safe to say our short king would too. While the culture may be different from his own, it adds to his amusement all the more. Featuring cowboys, gunslingers, and bounty hunters it’d feel like a dramatisation of his old life underground; and while he no longer affiliates himself with that lifestyle, he does find the genre interesting. 

Erwin - Historical Drama

Fight me. Erwin strikes me as boring lowkey lmfao. I genuinely believe he’s only watching things that stimulate his mind or shows that he can take away from. He doesn’t mind the messiness too much as long as the movie in question is thought provoking or at the very least holds some truth to it. And honestly, the Commander might be onto something here cause historical drama pieces fucking slap. Movies/series like The Crown, Apollo 13, Hotel Rwanda, etc is what he’s tuning into if he wants to watch tv.

Throwing in National Geographic or shows like The Most Extreme for when he wants some background noise.

Connie - Animation/Musical

Connie is such a vibe and while he is comedic relief he’s also super sweet. It's said that he’s basically a runner up to Armin on the emotional scale in regard to how deeply he feels. Our boy started out super naive and trusting and although it shaped him into someone a little more serious; he’s still that sweetie pie at heart. And so I believe animation is his thing and can bring a deep sense of nostalgia from time to time; allowing him a chance to cater to the child within. And the plots genuinely be plotting. That early 2000’s Disney and Pixar was un-fuck-witable. Musicals are just as fun for Connie btw, anything with a happy ending he’s down for.

Jean - Drama

Jean is literally so messy he can't help it. The call is coming from inside the house with this one. Even though Jean is a realist, he can also be an asshole with little regard to how what he says may affect Eren people. That doesn’t mean our boi is heartless, noooo, there has been lots of maturation over the seasons. But he LOVES a good conflict chile. Movies/series like RHOA, anything Tyler Perry, Moonlight, etc is his go to.

Onyankopon - Crime/Mystery

Similarly to Erwin, Onyankopon prefers films that are stimulating. He doesn’t mind indulging in the occasional reality show, but that's usually if he just so happens to be walking past his girl and a good scene comes on. Other than that, Ony is all for the suspense. He loves trying to stay one step ahead of the character but finds it's equally as fun to pick up some cool trivia along the way as movies like these tend to touch on a wide range of topics.

Reiner - Comedy 

After almost losing his mind and his life, Reiner is cool on the movies that bring about intense emotions. He wants to laugh and not regularly either, but full on knee slapping laugh when he decides to indulge in a film. You know the kind where you have to beg your friend to stfu so you can catch your breath? The kind of laugh that feels like you just did a ab workout? That's what he wants. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t watch other genres, but they’re certainly not his first choice.

Armin - RomCom

It's self explanatory with this one. Our munchkin still views the world and its people with big doe eyes of hope, even against all odds. He is a little more realistic in his hopes but he’s still hopeful nonetheless. And he’s much the same when it comes to movies. He wants to see the film where the guy gets the girl, against all odds, and they kiss in the rain; and he’ll love it even better if you slide a joke or two in the mix. 

Floch - Slasher

I genuinely feel like if Floch had a Tumblr, he’d be like one of the slasher girlies with their ghost face fics, only he’s posting ghost face thirst traps hahaha. He gets a thrill from the gore, the screams, the plot, and the kills. I think Floch is just all for the scare, even if he's on the receiving end of it. Anything to get his adrenaline pumping while keeping him on the edge of his seat will do. Thankfully though he’s able to separate fiction from reality and we can only hope he doesn’t get any cute ideas.

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #Attack on Titan #aot #shinjeki no kyojin #snk #their fave movie genres #eren jeager #levi ackerman #erwin smith #connie springer #jean kirstein #reiner braun #aot onyankopon #armin arlert #floch forster #aot x you #aot x reader #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n

[delta-queerdrant]

where are your troubles now? forgotten? (Resistance, s2 e12)

(POV you’re watching the Barbie intro but it’s Star Trek screenwriters. Please indulge me.)

Once, in another century, there was a show called Star Trek Voyager. (Cue 2001: A Space Odyssey music.) A lady and two dudes created it. Occasionally other ladies cowrote episodes. But by the time Season Two rolled around, there were not so many ladies. Actually there was just Jeri Taylor, and by god she tried. But one lady cannot be all things to all people.

Then in November 1995, a great miracle happened. A new lady was hired to write a teleplay. It was fresh, inventive! Something was happening!

Her name was (music crescendos)

L I S A K L I N K

I don’t know much about Lisa Klink, except that “Resistance” marks the beginning of her multi-season involvement in Voyager, and that she was a five-time Jeopardy winner. (I do not watch Jeopardy, I would not be good at Jeopardy, but Jeopardy people are nevertheless my people.) Mostly I know that I turned on “Resistance” and, despite my general disinterest in the show’s production history, immediately asked: who the FUCK wrote this?

“Resistance” is not a perfect episode, but after half a season of flailing, it is a revelation. Klink, writing the script for a story by Michael Jan Friedman and Kevin J. Ryan, has a clear vision of what Voyager can be - a show that’s grounded, emotionally resonant, and trusts its actors. 

I am partial to the gritty, Blade Runner-inflected, Firefly/BSG brand of science fiction television, so when we started in media res, our heroes in civvies doing deals in an outdoor market, I died and went to cyberpunk heaven. (Neelix’s coat alone is worth the price of entry.) Instead of swanning across the galaxy like tourists in a slightly under-resourced cruise ship, the Voyager gang are finally the scrappy underdogs they ought to be.

This is our second Janeway episode of the season, and the first episode, perhaps of the series, that really gives her a character mandate beyond “strong but feminine captain who loves her dog.” Mulgrew has her work cut out for her, acting against JOEL FUCKING GREY, but they’re both marvelous. Waking in the home of the enigmatically batty Caylem (in a claustrophobic sequence whose stagey absurdism recalls a Beckett play), Janeway slowly grows to understand that Caylem, who’s decided she’s his daughter, might be her best ally for escape. The growing emotional connection between the two is so tender and understated; as a writer, Klink has mastered the light touch.

Janeway and Caylem end up collaborating with the local resistance movement to rescue Torres and Tuvok, who have been imprisoned by the lawful evil overlords of this world. Our characters genuinely feel like they are in big trouble! Torres and Tuvok’s prison stint is rough. (I did enjoy B’Elanna’s beatnik dissident prison garb. She looks like it is approximately 1956 and she is a French student who has been arrested for throwing a baguette at a cop.)

The only weak sequence is the prison break itself, which feels too easy and relies on a tired “sex worker disguise” subterfuge. But the ending is so satisfying and will break your heart.

Once Janeway’s back in uniform, it feels like we’ve truly been on a journey, one that brings to mind iconic episodes like “The Inner Light.” Voyager is a long way from home, and I want these characters to go through transformative experiences. The boldness of this episode gets us a little bit of the way there.

A radical reimagining of Voyager, and the best episode of season two in my estimation. I award this one 4.5/5 melon hats.

#star trek #star trek voyager #janeway #LISA KLINK #joel fucking grey!!!

[ghoastixx]

hihihihi

i have a request for you!!

Labyrinth

jareth x aromantic male reader

where it’s just the reader doing the labyrinth but their having so much fun rather than stressing like sarah did !!

so yknow when jareth asks sarah to stay with him? (i haven’t seen the movie in a bit but i think this happened) the reader just agrees because they’re having so much fun and actually enjoy having jareth as a friend 💅

Jareth x aromantic male reader

Author’s note: hi!!! Thank you for the request :)))) I love when I get requests, it makes my blog a lot more lively in my opinion. Writing for aro readers is something that I have never done, but this simply thrills me. I’d be more than happy to do this! I’m more of a romcom reader myself but would absolutely devour a friendship fic if there were more.

Like- oh my god I love this prompt so much?? This is so fun???

Warnings: none at all, just tooth rotting fluff

———————————————————————————-

As soon as Jareth sees that you are not showing a bit of interest in him, he lays off.

He may be a hopeless romantic, but no use hitting on someone who has not shown the slightest bit of romantic interest in him.. but he’s still very curious about you.

Like- who is this guy??? Why is he not panicking??? Does he not understand the intensity of this situation?????

why are you having fun??? >:|

You confuse him.. he likes you.

“He’s reached the gates.. he shouldn’t of made it this far, he should’ve given up by now.” “He’ll never give up!” “Will he?”

You’re just being so nice??? So happy?? Like- this is just a normal Tuesday for you??

Once you beat him, he gives out his little speech. “Fear me, love me, do what I say, and I will be your slave.”

Much to his dismay! You agree to stay!!

You don’t want to be his king though </3

He throws a little tantrum about it at first but eventually gets over it.

(Please we’ve all seen his hair, he’s a drama queen and we all know it)

You now play a very important part in his labyrinth. You are his court.

He’d come to you with propositions, issues, royal stuff.

He’d probably try to get you to help lure humans away with your friendly nature.

“Yo Jareth!” You stormed into the room flooding with goblins. Usually this would get the king riled up, but he didn’t care.

“Yes, Y/n?” He hummed, sitting haphazardly on his throne.

“Your runner fell through one of the holes you have in the maze.” He looked at you.

“Which one?”

“How many are there?”

“A lot.”

“Well shit-“

“Did they say anything important?” He looked at him, he seemed tired and fed up, but holding a civil conversation was very nice.

“Uh- no. Not really. Mostly just “I have to save Cleo! Oh naurrrr!” Jareth put a hand on his face and chuckled a bit.

“You have way too much fun with this-“

“I can’t help it!” He sat on one of the windows and watched the goblins run ramped, as they harassed the kiddo.

“Jareth?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask- why is there a chicken in here?” Jareth looked at the other male very sternly.

“The goblins like to throw things at it.”

“HOW DID IT GET HERE!”

“I DON’T KNOW, IT’S VERY OLD.”

If he ever has time off, let him show you around the labryinth

He’d show you little secrets to lure other people through.

Look- he’s gotta make this fun for the both of you. Work is work, he’s allowed to have fun with it to.

He likes to watch you lead the runners off path, it’s very fun. You’re very convincing.

THE ULTIMATE BETRAYAL TO THE RUNNER IS AT THE VERY END.

Jareth and the runner are face to face and all of a sudden, you, Jareth’s right hand man come lurking from the shadows.

Runner: shocked

Jareth: smug

You: having way too much fun.

“You’re working with him!? How could you?! I trusted you?!”

“Eh-“

You’re not evil- you did help the runner, a lot. But you need to have fun too, right?

Jareth would be a very good partner in crime.

__________________________

-Ghoastix

#fanfic #fanfiction #jareth the goblin king #the labryinth fanfic #labryinth #jareth x reader #the goblin king

[joels6string]

More Than My Father's Son - Ellie's Journal Entry 2

Joel Miller x f!OC

May 20th, 2034 - May 24th, 2034

Summary: He doesn't trust you, you don't trust him, but fate has left you little option but to follow a wandering nomad who finds you alone and one step from helpless. An arrangement is met, but things change on the road and you both have to decide if it's for better or worse.

Rating: E

Content: NSFW, high levels of violence normal to the TLOU world, angst, fluff, miscommunication trope (it's Joel Miller...), Joel's traumatic childhood, getting together, smut, canon divergence after SLC, fix it fic

Series Masterlist

*Game events from TLOU 1 and 2 will be mentioned. Read at your own risk if you haven’t played.

Entry 1: May 7th, 2034 - May 10th, 2034

May 20th, 2034

More fucking infected. They’re everywhere. Even Joel’s surprised. He’s running low on ammo and starting to panic. Arrow found him a whole box of some crawling through some attic. It was nice to see him all flustered for a second. I think his cheeks turned pink.

He can try and deny it all he wants but I know he’s impressed. She takes down more runners than he does. He doesn’t admit it but it’s true. I watched her save his ass yesterday, one was coming up behind him and he was too distracted and she shot that thing from like 30 feet away, maybe less I don’t know. But it was awesome. He pulled the arrow out of its head and handed it back to her, I think that was his way of thanking her. He’s still fucking terrible at it.

May 21st, 2034

Well I’m 15 now. Nothing to show for it. Joel gave me this little rabbit he carved out of wood, he’s actually pretty good at it. It fits in my pocket perfectly. Didn’t even know he was doing it. That he could do it. He must have told Arrow because she gave me a little bouquet of flowers. No idea where she hunted those down I haven’t seen any in days. Was nice of her though. Her face is healing up pretty well, Joel makes her some salt water soak to put on it, I don’t know. He just tosses a wet rag at her every night, tonight she threw it back when she was done and it hit him square in the back of the head. I think that was the best gift I got.

May 22nd, 2034

Supposedly we’re getting closer to Jackson. I don’t know how he knows it but he swears we are. Whatever dude. He went out searching for food and left me with Arrow. She used to do ballet. BALLET. Like she was a fucking ballerina. And now she stabs runners in the throat with a switchblade. Maybe that’s why she’s so fast. She sneaks up on Joel sometimes and scares the shit out of him. I’m surprised he hasn’t shot her yet. I guess she was 20 when the outbreak hit, at some prestigious college in New York City. I asked her about what happened and she got this weird look, like she saw a ghost, but said probably like everywhere else. 

Joel came back with more canned ham and I swear to God if I have to eat this for one more day I’ll choose to starve.

May 24th, 2034

Arrow told me about the city, what it was like before the outbreak. Millions of people in one place. MILLIONS. I don’t even know what that would look like. She said one of her favorite things to do was sit on the roof of her dorm building at night and look out at the city all lit up. A glittering skyline she said. She took me onto the roof of this house and tried to explain it. It was nice to hear someone talk about something…good? I guess? She got really excited, and then I asked her about her dancing and I think she was gonna cry. Made me feel bad, but she did. She said she did it in front of hundreds of people on stage. I think I’d be too nervous. She braided my hair for me like hers, it’s like a crown. She pulled a feather off the back of her arrow and stuck it through, I thought I’d hate it but I kinda like it.

She’s cool. I’m gonna be sad when she’s gone.

Entry 3: June 7th, 2034

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

i think what would make the huntlow ship a lot more palatable for me is if they arent portrayed with such an imbalance of physical power. i know fandom flanderizes any popular ship/characters to a single dynamic/trait but i will still grump about it.

the dynamic between hunter and willow is most often willow being the physically stronger and more powerful of the two and hunter being her simp, usually either being fearful of her power (in a funny way bc “hes a guy”) or otherwise portrayed as weak and kind of pathetic.

(and socially he is kind of pathetic i guess, although we as a fandom are sleeping on hunters pathological need to be seen as cool and intimidating in favor of framing him as a helpless lost puppy.)

(i’ve grumped about the implications of hunter, an abuse victim, joking about his romantic partner being able to beat him up, and how his support of willow, especially in fanworks, seems to be an extension of his blind trust in authority figures. but im sure there are good fanworks that address this and portrays their dynamic as more healthy.)

my beef is that the portrayal of hunter being weaker than willow in terms of strength/combat abilities is just. not true. willow has powerful magic and yeah she yoinked hunter with her vines that one time but hunter has been trained since childhood to fight. he’s visibly more built than every other kid his age and even some of the adults. he beat up kikimora TWICE.

(i count the offscreen minecart chase in eclipse lake as one of their fights) (also in that fight he was fighting kikimora AND that EC captain AND two scouts AND a few abomatons) (also i dislike the scaling down of power of the coven heads in fandom too these ppl have been fighting with magic for decades kikimora is not a weak toddler she is a powerful witch)

hunter has shown in every episode he appeared in that hes highly skilled in combat. they had to injure him, exhaust him, and give him a new staff and a mental breakdown in eclipse lake for his fight with amity to be fair.

willow, in comparison, just grows vines everywhere because she’s never had to fight. this is very evident in the hexside fight in labyrinth runners, where hunter’s the only student doing any physical fighting while the other kids haphazardly throw spells around. hunter saying willow wouldn’t be afraid of him isn’t him saying that she would beat him in a fair fight. hes pointing out her general proactive attitude.

yes, willow can tie people up with vines but only if she has a timing advantage. hunter and willow wouldn’t fight because they’re friends. but in a theoretical fair fight between them, she would have to catch hunter off guard and completely restrain and disarm him before he can make a move. (the hunter vs amity fight shows that even when she tied him up hunter could still teleport out if he had his staff. also i think he PUNCHED that abomination bubble open???)

the point is that hunter is a child soldier and willow is not. he is much more skilled in combat than she is, and his hand to hand and staff-based combat obviously can compensate for magic uses considering he’s survived this long in the EC. (the magic duels in scout training, anyone?)

also, even if willow is stronger than hunter in terms of muscle (which i sincerely doubt bc of all the child soldier training but idk some people just naturally have more muscle than others) like her friends, willow isn’t the type of resort to fighting unless absolutely necessary. shes ride or die for her friends but she usually tries to “ride” until they get cornered and HAVE to “die.” just because hunter’s first instinct for everything is “flight” doesn’t mean willow’s first instinct has to be “fight.”

the portrayal of willow as everyones cutesy therapist who solves all her friends problems with violence is an unfortunate mischaracterization. the portrayal of hunter as a helpless, depressed, and traumatized child in need for everyone to take care of him all the time is also an unfortunate mischaracterization. these portrayals are only vaguely based in canon and i suggest fans rewatch the show during the hiatus to remember their other character traits.

for every charming fanwork with willow lifting hunter like a dumbell for her workout i want another charming fanwork with hunter lifting willow like a dumbell for HIS workout. the huntlow ship is BOTH strong enough to lift each other like dumbells and if i saw that more i might even stop calling them “the huntlow ship” and maybe indulge the thought that they might end up canon.

anyway all of this is to say. if in season 3 they deal with a minor villain like that museum guy and he still doesn’t back off after willow and the rest of the hexsquad gives him an emotional shounen protag speech. and also after hunter tries to get everyone to run away but it doesnt work bc the museum guy traps them or he falls face first into a puddle. what if willow beats the shit out of him. and after shes done she hands the reins to hunter and he beats the shit out of him. and somewhere during all that gus gives one of them a metal chair like that one MoringMark comic would that be the shit or what

#toh #the owl house #shut up pandora #hunter toh #hunter wittebane #willow park #huntlow #still not down with the huntlow ship because of reasons ive grumped about before #but this is more of a fandom mischaracterization #even outside of the huntlow ship stuff hunter still gets really woobiefied #and i think it would be more interesting to show him depressed and traumatized but still retaining that snark and badassery #and uh #fandoms gonna have implicit racist and sexist bias #because outside of the huntlow ship stuff willow shows up a lot less #i think fans are appreciating her more but its still very little compared to hunter #to be fair they are very different archetypes and people always love an angsty white boy #but yeah outside of huntlow i dont really see as much focus on willow doing a violence #its mostly her getting into dumbassery with her friends which is pretty nice and i want to see more of it #but yeah rule of thumb violence is never willows first answer its her third or fourth #she will not start a fight but she is willing to finish one #violence is hunters third answer i think if he wasnt explicitly told to do a violence #his first two answers are grovelling and running away to fall facefirst into a puddle #in that order

[pansythoughts]

Do you have any thoughts on the Alva and Ann relationship or any conjecture on what will go on with the cat cult?

So my biggest thought on the Alva and Ann relationship thus far is that given the information we have in canon, Alva matters a lot more to Ann than Ann matters to Alva. I don’t mean that pejoratively, or that Ann matters less as a character, but that there’s an asymmetrical amount of information from each characters’ perspective.

From Alva’s perspective right now, we have a lot of information on Herman Zeeman, and a lot of information on Luca Balsa. We know that these two fundamentally altered who Alva became, and that together their actions indirectly and then directly delivered him to the cat cult (Herman by undercutting his trust in people—pushing him to withdraw more and become more hermit-like—and Luca more directly by killing him). We also have Luca in Alva’s first essence, which kind of hard sell’s their connection. We have nothing from Alva’s perspective about his time in the cult yet, or his feelings about it. The closest we have is the very end of his intro trailer and his website background story, both of which more or less end with his introduction to the cult and the spurning of the rest of society for it.

From Ann’s perspective, I think the cult is a lot more of a formative force in her character, owing to her seeming younger than Alva, us having more information related to her vs Alva, and honestly the cult just featuring way more prominently in her backstory. From everything we can tell right now, Alva recruited her father to the cat cult, which set her on her path, willingly or unwillingly. The cat cult is mentioned as part of her childhood in her deducs, and Alva is mentioned directly or indirectly in both her character day letters so far.

So to Ann, Alva is this major figure of her childhood, of her background, and part of ultimately where her future went. But to Alva, Ann is conspicuously absent. His most formative events, the things the narrative shows us, focus on the past and the Balsas. And that’s really interesting! To Ann, Alva is the man that changed the course of her family and her life. To Alva, as far as we can tell, Ann and her family were just some people he brought into his cult. I’m really hopeful when we get more info from Alva’s first letter that gives us some of his perspective on the cult and Ann, but I don’t hate the asymmetry right now, because it really is so telling for what both characters are hung up on.

As for what will go on with the cat cult… god I don’t know. I have things I *want* to know, like how they’re resurrecting people (is magic real?) and what the hell is up with the implications of ritual surgery in both Ann’s second character letter and on the cat’s model. I hope we find out how zealous Alva is, and I hope it’s exactly zero percent (I hope he’s so resigned to doing a cults dirty work, but the opposite would be interesting too!). I want to know if Ann and Alva are actually alive again, or if they’re drug fueled hallucinations of people that once existed in whatever game they get attached to. I want to know if the cult is associated with the person running the games, or if the game runner is just taking advantage of something batshit in the world already. I think right now though I prefer to keep my thoughts open, so I can enjoy whatever comes my way rather than get disappointed by what they don’t end up doing.

#alva lorenz #idv ann #Cari does meta analysis #identity v

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi! Do you know any good media/writing sources with androids/robots or any writing advixe about it? I’m planning on writing an original fiction story that has two of the major characters as robot/androids, with one being a POV character, and I was wondering if I could see examples of how other people have done it.

…Actually, on that note, do you have any advice on how to write aliens? This is a really weird book.

I love your and Vinelle’s works - they’re really good and every time I think about How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love the Bacchanals I just sigh in awe of how awesome it is! Have a great day!

Ooh, look @therealvinelle, praise!

Writing Advice in General

The thing about writing is it isn't like art.

There are no guides on how to write specific characters the way there's guides on how to draw certain animals, people, objects, etc. If there were, I wouldn't trust them, as they wouldn't be written by anyone who has any idea what they're doing.

Writing advice kind of starts and stops with classic prompts, breaking down stories into the traditional structures (hero's journey, three-act tragedy, five-act tragedy) and noting well-known writing techniques.

And this is because what you're asking is what I'd call... advanced.

You're at the point of creating your characters to tell a story and want very specific things. You have to come up with what that is and why that works, people can't do it for you.

My Two Cents: It Might Not Matter

The thing about both robots and aliens is they're all over the place in terms of characterization. What you do and how you do it is dependent on what story you want to tell.

There's works where robots are very benign and essentially human, works where robots are not benign but essentially human, where robots are benign but not human, and where they're malicious evil.

Similar with aliens, some works have incredibly human aliens (in both appearance and behavior) some have wildly different aliens.

My point is that you can get away with almost whatever characterization you want, so long as you're consistent and it aids your story your readers will not care.

Whenever I do it, personally, I think of characters being informed by their society as well as... we'll call it biological imperitive. Machines are created to serve a person (one that may not align with human values/traditional human desires), aliens will have their own psychology that will greatly inform who they are and what actions they take.

Think at a base level what the characters want and value and that will inform both what they do and how they communicate.

Things with Aliens and Robots

If you're looking for examples though I suppose I can list out a few.

Alien (great inhuman/malicious aliens as well as androids, highly recommend)

Prometheus (the film by Ridley Scott) (great human/malicious android, less aliens)

I, Robot (the book) (not the best writing or the most interesting but Asimov laid the groundwork for thinking about robotics in science fiction, everyone has some nod towards Asimov and it's good to at least know of)

Blade Runner (great very human robots who aren't quite up to snuff)

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (not as much focus on the robots but one should always read PKD)

Ex Machina (the android and what they know is the focal point of the movie)

Casshern Sins (the entire cast is androids)

Pretty much anything by Philip K. Dick (not all his stuff is about aliens and androids but... it comes up a lot and it's very good)

The Left Hand of Darkness (the aliens are very human in this one but it shows a lot of nuance of a very different society and what that would mean for the aliens)

The Host by Stephanie Meyer (yes, bear with me, Wanda's very human but the aliens are very well thought out and make a lot of sense)

Dune and Dune Messiah by Frank Herbert (not on aliens, really, but Paul gets very out there in terms of his visions and it's very good at looking at why cultures develop certain ways due to environment and terrain)

And I suppose I'd be remiss/a coward not to note that I've written several fics that star inhuman/alien/robotic characters so you can see at least how I've done it.

The Seventh Seal (starring essentially an alien/android)

Of Shepherds and Kings (starring the personification of a nation)

Morilden (starring essentially an alien)

October (starring essentially an alien)

Finishing the Hat (starring an alien god)

The Wasteland (starring essentially an android)

Light and Shadow of the Distant Sun (starring an alien)

Most things I write have aliens or androids, actually.

#writing #writing advice #recommendations

[outrunningthedark]

Can you give new people joining the fandom a rundown on Max Gao? With his latest 9-1-1 article circulating a lot, I think it's time to clear some misconceptions, and you're the one I trust the most when it comes to compiling information as well as giving neutral/levelheaded takes.

*rubs temples* Are they mad at MG again? I didn't even realize it was him who put out the TVGuide article when I answered my nonnie who left me the quote (shoulda guessed, though, right?) Ah, MG. A twenty-something working his way up the ranks of journalism. Uses his twitter as a vessel for his written material while ALSO reacting to episodes as a fan would. People do not like that because "he should keep the two separate". Hate to break it to 'em, but he is not the only 9-1-1 journo to leave their personal opinions where all can see. But I don't see those folks getting called out NEARLY as much. They also don't like that he "says things to get a reaction". Uh. Is that not the point of working in the media??? To say things that will boost your twitter engagement or get more eyes on an article??? Did OG not do something similar when they put "Buck! Where the hell are you going?!" in the 6x04 promo only for it to amount to nothing??? Because they knew the most vocal people in the fan base would sit up and take note??? Complaining about him wanting a reaction is still A FORM OF REACTING. He doesn't care what you're saying!! Just that you actually bother to pay attention at all!! He most notably came under fire for a TVGuide interview with Tim & Kristen in March '22 in which Kristen said she sees Buck and Eddie as a "great friendship." They're mad at MG for getting that on record because they want to live in La La Land where the show runners have been championing for Buddie since s2 or s3 (depending on who is giving their opinion). She also said she doesn't think there is a "right or wrong" way to interpret Buddie: "But I think the struggle with the Buck and Eddie relationship is, we write a thing and we have an idea in our head of what the scene means and what those lines mean and an intention behind it, and then it goes out into the world," Reidel added. "People may receive it in a way that we had not expected or that we had not planned on, and I'm not gonna tell people that they're watching the show wrong because people see what they see." Meanwhile, this was Kristen when talking to Variety for an article that dropped the very same day: "...I think sometimes they interpret things as signs or signals that we did not intend for them to be.” + Reidel admits there have “been a couple of times where we made a little joke” about Buck and Eddie’s close friendship, “but that’s been the extent of it.” “With regard to the queer-baiting, I don’t actually know what to say on it because with Buck and Eddie, they have great chemistry and some people want to see them together. And it kind of seems like, if they’re in scenes together, we’re queer-baiting, if they’re not in scenes together, we’re queer-baiting. I am not really sure what to do there. But I will say it’s never our intention to queer-bait. But I can’t say, ‘You’re watching it wrong!'” [*insert The Office "They're the same picture." meme] TL;DR They've been picking on MG ever since they found out he was a teenager writing about their fave show (19 at the time of the fandom really starting to form an opinion about him) for...behaving like a teenage fan (aka someone we'd see on tumblr) while STILL having the balls to ask the uncomfortable questions or point out flaws that "ruin the fun". (And getting paid for it. That's the kicker.)

#anonymous #tina speaks #tv: 911 #tv: 9-1-1 #buddie

[mazegays]

@its-tea-time-darling i am trying to answer your ask but tumblr is being dumb about it so i copy-pasted it here instead and am hoping it works yes hello i am on my computer now and so i feel like i can actually write this out better bc it is. an essay (and no doubt going to get longer when i start writing it v me just thinking about it) i'm sure others may have said similar before, but until very recently i've been avoiding most teresa content lol In this fandom (less so in more recent years than in the past), Teresa is the betrayer and the dead girl. First, she gains Thomas's trust. Then she makes out like she wants him dead--very convincingly. Then she reveal that that was because WICKED made her. And, finally, she dies for Thomas. That leaves Thomas (and us) with a very complicated set of feelings and thoughts surrounding Teresa. Let's try and unpack some of mine. 

(if you haven't read fever code and the kill order, you might want to skip or skim this part)

In Kill Order, we first meet baby!teresa--a traumatized little girl, hardly out of toddlerhood, who is found by Mark, Alec, Trina, and Lena in a deserted village. She's got marks showing she was injected with the virus (which is not from the solar flares as WICKED posits, but instead a human bioweapon), but she's fine, marking her as immune. She was witness to the attacks on her settlement and everyone turning into Cranks and subsequently dying. Due to her immunity, Mark turns her over the the Post-Flare Coalition, aka WICKED, at the end of the book, saving her life. She has witnessed more death and had others infected with the virus assume that she's a demon because she's immune. In the second epilogue (and the prologue, where Thomas is swiped and sent into the maze) we see an older Teresa, who is sympathetic to the infected and believes they deserve a chance to be saved because of what Mark, Alec, Trina, and Lena did for her. Throughout Fever Code, we see Teresa through Thomas's eyes. We know from the two years later epilogue of Kill Order that he's five at the time he's brought into WICKED, making Teresa seven and two years older than him; he wouldn't remember the immediate-post infection world the way she does (this particular detail is also something I stew over quite a bit, but that's for another post). They have plenty of differences, and argue over methods even when they're young, but it's not nearly as high-stakes as it is later, and after a while, they're pretty much each other's only friends. At the end of Fever Code, before Thomas is sent into the maze, Teresa admits that she still believes in the possibility of a cure. This is a few years after they have to kill the original Creators. (As this is not her POV, I can guess that she might not know--or might be denying the fact--that it's WICKED who released the Flare in the first place. Thomas doesn't know at all, having been taught along with everyone else that the disease was named after the solar event it was named for--the Solar Flares.) In the epilogue--a memo from Paige to the Council--Teresa and Aris are named as the final candidates. Given the use of the same term in Death Cure (by Janson, to refer to Thomas), plans changed. It also thanks them for their loyalty. Teresa's memo is the more interesting one, here. It confirms that Teresa and Aris kept their memories, and were going to coordinate with WICKED throughout the trials. She truly believes in what WICKED is doing, and that hasn't wavered in her ten years, likely closer to eleven, there. As we know, she write the infamous 'WICKED is good' on her arm, in order to 'plant the seed' in the Gladers' minds.

(if you were skipping, you can stop now!)

In Maze Runner, she tells Thomas she triggered the end, and pretends to know as little as they do--she leads the decoding of the maps, even, when it's entirely possible she already knew the code. She programmed the maze's day and night cycle and the griever hole, after all. We don't know what she sent to WICKED, or when. (Not that there's a lot they didn't already know, with the beetle blades.) She's a key factor in their escape, despite pretty much everyone other than Thomas doubting her and her intentions at first. In Scorch Trials, she must know about the switch before it happens. Thomas can communicate with Aris telepathically, so she and Aris are probably coordinating not only the switch (Group B can't have left for the Scorch before Group A for this to work, despite canonically getting out of their maze earlier.) but also meeting up with the Gladers to kidnap Thomas. She's also the screaming girl in the first half of the book, during their first day in the Scorch. She waits until they're taking a break to stop screaming and leave the building--Thomas hasn't gotten anything from or to her mentally, so Aris must have told her. When Thomas gets close to her, he notes three specific details: She's clean, not dusty and dirty from a day in the desert, she's crying, and her behavior reminds him of Gally right before he killed Chuck. She warns him to get away from her. Obviously when he is kidnapped by Group B, her behavior has switched. She's now angry with Thomas outwardly, for reasons she's not explaining to him, while whispering to him entirely different things. She lets it slip that they were told to kill him by WICKED. Harriet tells Thomas that Teresa has 'hated' him the entire time, that she's acting like killing him is her idea. Trying to convince WICKED, maybe? That she'll do whatever they tell her to, even when it hurts her? After the chamber, she's changed again, and Thomas no longer knows what to feel about her (and neither did I, as the reader, for my first through read-throughs.) It's confirmed at this point that she's been talking to Aris the whole time, including in the maze. Thomas already knew this was a set-up, but this is the first time we see how much of a set-up it is. Free will is almost non-existent for these kids. Of course, when they meet up again, Minho and the Gladers consider Teresa and Aris traitors and don't trust them. Given how much we--and Thomas--now know that they have manipulated behind the scenes (as ordered by WICKED) that is completely fair and expected, especially when they don't know the whole story as Thomas does--but even Thomas giving them details later doesn’t matter. We all know how Death Cure goes--her biggest role in this book is dying for Thomas. She is in Denver, for a time, but Thomas is more with Minho, Newt, Gally, or Brenda, so we don't see a lot of her. With her chip removed, it's now impossible for WICKED to control her--assuming that WICKED removed the chips as they said they would, and assuming that Teresa doesn't still have hers. She's shown to believe in WICKED's mission until the end of the her life. Now, with that summary that was longer than I expected it to be out of the way, let's talk more directly about Teresa's relationship with WICKED. All Teresa knows outside of WICKED is terror and fear. She likely starved for a time, she was attacked and hurt, and undoubtedly would have died on her own or been killed by Cranks. Growing up within WICKED facilities literally saved her life, and she knows that from a young age. Unlike Thomas, she's not angry or upset about being given a new name. She's happy to accept it, because she wants to forget everything that happened outside of WICKED's walls. She wants to forget, and she wants to prove that providing for her was worth it. So she does what they tell her: Kills the Creators, lies to Thomas about his entrance to the Maze (he thinks they're both going in memories intact) and communicates with Aris and WICKED throughout TMR and TST to coordinate meetings. She acts in a such a way that Thomas goes from liking her to hating her to being so conflicted about her that he feels nothing when she kisses him again. Meanwhile, Teresa is doing this to save him, or so WICKED says. They know she likes him, watched them grow up together, and they'll use it against her, against them both. She, like Thomas, is nothing but a pawn in WICKED's game. Every time she thinks she's gaining ground, they reveal another card to put her back in her place. Her firm belief in wanting a cure for the Flare combined with a childhood of being taught only what WICKED wanted her to know, seeking their approval at many turns, leaves her very open to manipulation. This results in Teresa being someone Thomas and the others aren't sure they can trust, because of her past, and Teresa herself just being a teenage girl trying to ensure that the boy she loves, the boy she grew up with, grew up loving, survives at all costs to her. She's the betrayer, sure. But would she do betray Thomas if she thought she had no other choice? I don't think she would. Teresa, even as a secondary protagonist, is far more complex than just being 'the betrayer' and 'the dead girl'. She's a terrified little girl who doesn't want anyone to go through the suffering she saw as a child, and has been given an option to try and end that suffering by working toward a cure. She's a well-fed, well-protected child who knows of the horrors of the world outside but never goes back out to it; the same child is taught whatever WICKED wants her to know. She's a teenage girl who has killed, who may be falling in love with boy-next-door (literally), who still desperately wants to fix the world. Her avenue for saving Thomas and fixing the world isn't a branching path: They're both lined with flashing WICKED signs. If she listens to them, Thomas will be safe. If she works with them, they can find a cure. She can have both. So she writes 'WICKED is good'. She's spreading the seed, trying to convince the Gladers. Maybe that message wasn't for them, though. Not entirely. No. Maybe she was really trying to convince herself.

#teresa #tea #ask box stuff #tmr analysis #teresa character study #teresa analysis #tmr #tst #tdc #kill order #tko #fever code #tfc #mine #long post

[laf-outloud]

I know Roxy and the Arkida (?) are supposed to be the big bad of the season, but I never see anyone talking about that plot…except for the occasional “omg Roxy is sooo Danneel!” tweet/post.

At this point, I genuinely want to know what this show is about. And not in an ‘I want to watch it!’ way, but in an ‘I’ll buy an overpriced coffee for the first person who can actually tell me what’s going on’ way. Because it seems no one has any clue what’s going on. The season is almost over, and any interviews or articles about the show are just as vague as the ones from before the show premiered. You can’t really hide behind the ‘well, we don’t want to give anything away…’ excuse this far in. When I go through the tag on Twitter, I can tell that the people tweeting aren’t actually watching the show and are on their phones the whole time. Everything they say is either super vague commentary (Carlos is wearing pants 🥹 I love this diversity/representation ❤️), Jensen/Dean centric (Is that Dean’s arm? Where’s Dean? Jenneel are the best show runners ever, I trust them with my life!) or all but begging for the cast/Jenneel to interact with fans and promote the show.

From what I can glean, they’re just trying to do too much in hopes that at least one thing will work out. They brought back the beloved monster of the week formula, except it doesn’t really work out because they don’t tie it together with overarching plot of the season. Probably because they never figured out what that plot was. The characters and their arcs are all a poorly written mess so they can’t even carry out the subplot/weekly plot.

I know exactly what kind of tweets you're talking about. I'm still waiting for the world-ending peril that John and Mary's love is supposed to fix. This show has been directionless from the start, and it shows.

#ask box #anti spn prequel #what a train wreck

[fantasylandfanfiction]

Untitled - Chapter 1

Hi. I'm a writer trying to get back into the habit of writing every day so I decided to start a fan fiction for Joel Miller and an original character. I don't really know where it's going yet, but then again, that's half the fun. It's Untitled for now, but when I come up with a title I will update the tags and headers.

___________________________________________________________

When Tommy’s brother came into Jackson for the first time, I didn’t know they were related.

I had my guard up because it felt weird to me that Tommy and Maria would risk letting some unknown into the closed community and destroying what we’d worked so hard to build over the past year.

Don’t get me wrong. Jackson was growing. New people, new families, were coming in every single day. But I felt that our precautions for vetting newcomers had become a little lax over the past month or so, and I had been meaning to express my concerns to Tommy about it, but I hadn’t had the chance.

Then I see him walking in with some kid and this rough looking guy who I wouldn’t have trusted as far as I could throw.

Next thing I know Tommy’s loaning him horses, giving him free will to leave the community whenever he pleased.

He could’ve been running off and feeding information to a mob of hunters for all I goddamn knew.

I didn’t like it. I didn’t like the way Tommy just included him by default into all matters of the town so quickly and I didn’t like how quiet and reserved he was. It made me crazy how nobody else seemed to find him shady at all. I needed to tell Tommy what a mistake I thought he’d made.

One day, around mid-morning, Mister newcomer decided he would be taking one of the horses out, all saddled up with a shotgun and precious ammunition, to go “hunting”.

I happened to be scouting on the wall that day, so I let him out.

“Be back before sundown,” he informed me like I gave a fuck about whether or not he returned.

I nodded to the boys down by the gate, signalling to them to open up the wooden barricades to let him through.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful which was fine by me. It meant I was able to be present when Tommy’s brother returned dragging a deer carcass behind him.

I nudged my chin at him, as though asking what he wanted.

“Open the gate please?”

I made a show of checking the log for a minute or two.

“I don’t have any record of anyone checking out,” I stated prosaically, “you sure you got the right settlement?”

I saw him huff a humorless laugh and shake his head as he averted his eyes.

“You know damn well who I am.”

“Not really,” I replied with a cool shrug, “if I knew who you were, then you’d be on the outgoing log. That horse would be signed out, as well as that gun you’re carrying.”

“Can you just find Tommy or Maria? They’ll tell you who I am.”

“They’re busy,” I returned obstinately, “making sure everyone else is following the rules.”

Out of nowhere, a runner emerged from the trees beyond the gate and upon spotting Tommy’s brother, it began a powerful, flailing run right towards him.

Joel efficiently cocked his gun at the runner but made no attempt to shoot it yet.

“Goddammit let me in,” he growled as his horse, who I recognised as Marigold started prancing nervously at the chaotic, random movements of the approaching runner and it’s fitful, high-pitched screaming.

Marigold steered her rump to face the approaching threat head on, as any defensive creature would do, but in doing so she slammed her flank into the side of the gate trapping Joel’s leg.

He cried out in pain and lost his shot on the runner.

Behind me a gunshot rang out, and the runner fell to the ground gurgling and hissing.

I turned around to find Tommy, lowering his gun and shooting me a hard glare.

“Open the damn gate, Evelyn,” he ordered, his tone harsh and authoritative.

I had a lot to say, but I knew he was too pissed at me in that moment to listen.

I motioned to the boys below to pull open the gate.

Joel navigated Marigold back into the settlement and when the gates were closed behind him he dismounted.

“You okay, Joel?”

Joel. That’s his name.

“It’s nothin’,” he insisted tossing me a fiery glance and shaking out the pain in his leg

Tommy turned to me and flicked his head towards the general direction of the stables.

“Evelyn, finish up here. We need some extra hands in the turbine room.”

I hated turbine duty. It was loud and dirty, and all the men in there were lecherous assholes.

“I’m supposed to be here until—”

“Well, I’m telling you that you’re done here! Go on out and help clean the turbines!” Tommy snapped at me which he almost never did. Most people felt awful when Tommy got angry. But I righteously held onto my belief that I was angrier than he was for being so lackadaisical about his brother flouting the towns prescribed rules.

I climbed down from my post and stalked by both men, tossing my rifle vertically towards Tommy.

He caught it and expelled a hot stream of air from his nostrils, giving me another warning look, which I ignored as I walked by them on my way to the turbines.

I spent the next few days avoiding both Tommy and Joel, feeling an incongruous mix of both embarrassment and righteous indignation.

I despised the sympathetic amusement on Joel’s face when he would see me around town.

His expression would change from his usual skulking frown to one that practically screamed, “aw you are so protective of your cute little town and I appreciate the effort you put into trying to be intimidating,” and I fucking hated it.

It was Friday night and I’d just finished a long day of particularly eventful patrols with my partner Max. He’d run off home to complete more work but my shoulder and back was killing me from riding and engaging my shooting arm all day.

It was only my second fall season at Jackson, but I figured the transition from fall into winter would always be busy.

Our little town which was now powered by hydro electricity was a beacon of light in the perpetual darkness of the colder months, which was surely something to be grateful for, but it also attracted infected (and other unwelcome visitors) from miles around.

We’d gotten good at patrolling and securing our community but, it was work. Hard work, and my shoulders were feeling it.

With my head down, I waded through the patrons of the Tipsy Bison and found a seat at the bar.

Seth was a dick, but he served alcohol and he was scared enough of Maria that he tried not to cause too much trouble even though his misogynistic, bigoted nature made it hard for him to do so. The only value he really added was knowledge enough on how to brew beer and (passable) whiskey.

“Beer or whiskey?” he asked from behind the bar without looking at me.

“Whiskey” I responded scratching the thin layer of varnish at the lip of the bar.

Normally I took my time and started with beer, but tonight I was going for efficiency. I had a day off tomorrow, so I could afford to sleep off some indulgence.

I probably should have eaten something first, but I needed something to take the edge off my shoulder pain and Eugene’s weed supply was on backorder for a while on account of diminishing sunlight. I’d asked him for some seeds so I could grow my own, but he said he had to think about it because of Maria not being crazy about the idea of weed being grown in town. Despite most folks not seeing the problem, Maria, in particular, was risk adverse and certain things were a hard no for her.

“I understand it can be useful so I am not preventing growth or distribution, but it can’t be grown in town,” she insisted. “We gotta keep anything that impairs our judgement to a minimum and there’s more than enough alcohol to go around, so for now let’s just keep the distractions to a minimum. When we’re able to secure the town gates more robustly, we’ll revisit the conversation, but for now, weed supply is kept to Eugene and out of the city where he can control and secure it,” she mandated with enviable authority at the town meeting where it was brought up. And nobody questioned her because she was right.

It had been some time since then and our defenses had filled out a little. Still, weed hadn’t come up again at any subsequent town meetings so people either forgot about it or had implemented their own secret workarounds.

As I was busy waiting for my first few sips of whiskey to kick in, I felt someone sidle up into my space.

I knew who it was without looking.

He cleared his throat to draw attention to himself, but quickly followed up with actual words, albeit awkwardly and uncomfortably.

“Tommy says that if I want to fit in here, I need to get in good with the likes of you. He says you’re well respected amongst the folks here and…well, I think we got off on the wrong foot so I was wondering if we could start over.”

His tone implied that he wasn’t exactly thrilled about it, but then neither was I. And on some level, we both understood that if Tommy was instructing him to make an effort, then those orders extended to me also.

Maybe I was still stinging from the embarrassment of my earlier misstep, but I was finding it hard to smooth over the chip I had on my shoulder for this guy. Still, it would have been in my best interest to not piss off Tommy or Maria, so I swiveled my ass on the barstool just enough to acknowledge his presence.

“Don’t take it personally, I don’t much like most of the people who come through here.”

“Understandable,” he muttered into his whiskey glass before taking a sip. “Nonetheless,” he continued, his voice mildly strained from the harshness of the amber liquid burning down his throat, “if I’m going to stick around for a while, I best keep the air clean as I can between myself and established folks like yourself.”

He was trying, I could see that, but I had more to say.

“I wouldn’t bother trying to make friends around here. But… maybe it might happen on its own once you learn how things work around here. I know you’re Tommy’s brother but there are rules that need to be followed around here and my beef boils down to the fact that he’s been letting you off the hook.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded pushing his empty glass to the edge of the bar and indicating to Seth that he wanted a refill.

“You don’t just take horses out and go hunting when you feel like it. There are designated hunting times, and horses need to be signed out by me or whoever is on entry duty. Same with guns and ammo. You report what pieces your taking and how many rounds of ammo. When you get back you return the piece and report the number of ammo rounds left so we can keep track of our inventory.”

“Fine. Anything else?” He asked fixing me with a stare that left me feeling a little…exposed.

I lowered my gaze to my glass.

“Lots. But I don’t have time to sit here and list out all the measures we’ve put in place to make sure things run smoothly around here. Make the effort to learn it. If you’re not sure, ask someone.”

“Yes ma’am,” he returned with just enough of an edge in his response to cause me to wonder if he was being smart with me, but not enough to confront him about it.

I fixed my eyes back on him with an equal amount of ambiguity.

Now that he was right up close to me, I could see the resemblance. Tommy’s features were fairer, but their eyes, nose and bone structure were undoubtedly of the same ilk.

Before either of us had a chance to continue or end the conversation, I saw movement in my periphery and heard a solid clap coming from behind Joel’s shoulder.

Joel turned to find Tommy behind him, smiling at the two us as though we were the best of friends.

“Looks like you two have cleared the air. I’m happy to see it.”

Tommy’s tone was light, but I was fluent enough in subtext to hear what he really meant which was “you two aren’t going cause any more trouble, are you?”

Joel looked to me as though the responsibility of providing confirmation to Tommy’s comment was up to me.

“We’ll be fine as long as he follows all the same rules everyone else around here does, Tommy. No free passes just because he’s your brother.”

“He’s a fast learner you don’t need to worry about that,” Tommy assured me, maybe with a hint of impatience in his voice.

“Then you don’t have to worry about whether or not we’re getting along,” I returned with an equal amount of impatience.

“Good,” Tommy smiled, “after your little gate stunt, I decided that Joel will be accompanying you on the patrol Sunday.”

Goddammit.

I tried not to look phased by his thinly veiled order, but there was certainly a split-second moment where we all felt the air between us hang heavy with anticipation.

“Fine,” I muttered, downing my whisky and silently requesting another through gestures towards Seth and he was quick to oblige me.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure y’all will work together just fine once you get to know each other.”

I wanted to warn him not to count on it, but I know Tommy was laying down the law and his orders weren’t to be questioned, so I took my glass, downed my whiskey in one harsh, burning gulp and wordlessly made my way out of the bar.

#Joel Miller #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fan fiction #tlou fanfiction #Joel #Joel fanfiction

[theshelbyclan]

Castle in the Sky

Summary: You’re the daydreaming sibling of the Shelby’s, but when the adventure spills over into real life, it’s not as great as you’d imagined

(Gif by @nofckingfighting​) A/N: A sweet anon requested: can I have request please Something like this Tommy was very protective over y/n and she gets hurt by one of the bad guys and sees blood on her face now all bruised but Tommy wants revenge Omg if you do so thank you so much for my request! ❤️ Huge fan of your works!This is set around season 1, back in the good old days when the only real enemy was Billy Kimber, remember those days? So easy… anyways, hope you like it J Words: 2933 ***

You were only nine when you started as a bookie’s runner for the Peaky Blinders. Nothing about this was special, half the kids of Small Heath worked for them, but there was just one difference: the Shelby’s were your brothers. It was a good job in many ways, because it meant not only being able to help your brothers, but people were inclined to give you a bit extra, just for being a Shelby. You imagined they thought it good luck.

“Y/N, take this to the other side of town, will you?” Tommy requested as he sat hunched over a newspaper. You protested a little, “Why me? I’ve done all of mine for today…” “This one’s extra, alright?” “Who is it?” you could never hide your inquisitive nature. But you only showed it around your brothers; to the rest of the world you were just quiet and practically invisible. He smirked slightly, “Someone who’ll pay up big. That’s why I need you to do it. Can’t trust any of the other kids not to steal…” “I have some homework to do, Tommy.” At thirteen, you were still at school, which was a minor miracle in Birmingham. “Tell you what: if you just do this one job, I’ll get you magazine you’ve been talking about, eh?” now he looked up and met your eyes. “Book, Tommy,” you smiled, “You might have heard of the concept? It’s a little like a magazine, a little like that newspaper, but with more pages? Some find it challenging, but once you get used to it…” “Alright, little miss know-it-all,” he grumbled without malice, “Go on, take the slip, make sure he bets all. Off with you. Stop outsmarting your old brother, eh?” He winked to make sure you were comfortable and you returned it with a big grin. “Where?” “Digbeth,” Tommy’s nose was back in the newspaper, “behind the Golden Dragon.” ***

As you were walking through the streets of Small Heath on your way to Digbeth, you were daydreaming. In a way it was strange just how different you were from your brothers, because the entire Shelby clan was very realistic, trying to make their way in this hard world, where you would rather pretend all day you were the main character in some story. The books you read, it was all an escape to you. So while you were walking, the people and factories disappeared. In your head, you were walking through the woods, on a secret mission that your king gave you. With the top-priority letter in your pocket, you remembered what he’d told you before you left: “If you get caught, eat the letter. If they capture you, make sure to be brave and never divulge its contents to anyone. And if all else fails, you must make the ultimate sacrifice. But remember, you have to memorize the contents of the letter first…” Wouldn’t it just be easier to memorize it now and destroy the letter immediately? You pondered on the matter… In the distance, you could see the mountains and the towers of another kingdom, and you knew your enemies were near. Without anyone noticing, you put a hand to your pocket and could feel the reassuring rustling of paper underneath your fingers: the letter was still there. If it would come to a fight, how would you go about it? If there were just one man, the small dagger in your boots would suffice. If it were two, you’d distract one, maybe by throwing the veil you were wearing, quickly turning around to kill the other and then back to the first one before he had time to recover. If there were more than three, you’d run, because you were the fastest after all. You’d get to higher ground and attack them from there, like a deadly shadow they could never see coming. As you smiled to yourself, you left the daydream for a short moment. You looked down and saw the muddy shoes you were wearing, marching through Birmingham mud. In the distance, all you saw was smoke and factory pipes. But it was honestly all you needed: your imagination did the rest. The real world barged in when you delivered the slip in Digbeth. Everything went smoothly at first. Your big brown eyes persuaded him to indeed bet big, and you were quite satisfied with yourself, knowing Tommy would be too. But you still had to walk back with a lot of money now in your pocket.

*** Almost home, there were only a few streets to go. Your head was back in the clouds and this time you were imagining you were a spy during the war. Silently, you moved through the streets, making yourself invisible and pretending every man wearing a hat was the enemy. So each time you saw one, you changed directions or hid for a second. It was a fun game, until you realised the enemy wasn’t wearing a hat. “Now, what’s a pretty girl like you doing on the streets, all by herself?” A man with a heavy Cockney accent popped up next to you and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out. In your dreams, you always knew what to say, but in reality it wasn’t so easy. The man approached you and you noticed he’d cut you off from your one exit out of the alley, “It’s Y/N Shelby, isn’t it,” he grinned. “No,” you managed to say, “you got the wrong girl.” He grinned again, “Nice try, sweetheart. We’ve seen you at the Garrison. They don’t allow little girls at the pub, unless they’re a Shelby.” This was all true. You felt your hands getting clammy. “Tommy sent you, didn’t he?” Again, you tried to remember what the hero in your stories would do. She’d run, climb the building and then throw a knife right between the eyes of the man. Or she’d say something clever, just to distract him, and then turn around and escape when he least expected it. He took another few steps forward and you could smell him now, a smell of strange smoke and the river, “Do you know who I am?” Nailed to the ground, you shook your head. “I work for Mr. Billy Kimber. Ever heard of him?” You turned to see if you could escape, but then realised the other side of the alley was blocked by two more men. Neither of them were wearing hats. Cold sweat of fear ran down your back. The man in front of you started laughing, “There’s no running, sweetheart. Just give it to me.” At once you realised he was referring to the money in your pocket, but for Tommy’s sake, you wanted at least to try to be brave, “I don’t have anything.” He sighed, “Don’t play with me. I’m not the kind of man to play with, and neither is Mr. Kimber,” his voice was suddenly low and menacing, “Your brother thought he could, thought he would get away with fixing a race, he did, and now he’s going to be put against the post and shot. Don’t think I won’t do the same to you.” You gulped, but still thought of Tommy’s disappointment in you when he would find out you’d been a coward. So you took a deep breath and said softly, “It’s not yours. This money is ours. You can tell Mr. Kimber to go fuck himself!” It didn’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped. Like a crack of thunder, he swiftly slapped you across the face with the back of his hand. All the air was knocked out of your lungs in a second and you stood gasping for air, as you felt some blood trickling down your chin. “Give me the money,” he demanded again. And then, like your heroes, you pretended to reach for it in your pocket. Suddenly, you turned around and started running into the other direction, hoping to slip past the two men before they could stop you. But it didn’t work. One grabbed your arm and when you tried to push him away, he punched you hard. All strength left you in an instant. The second one started fumbling in your pockets and instinctively you kicked him, which earned you another blow to the head. More punches followed and your head was spinning. As you looked up to the sky, you remembered wanting to get back home, to your castle, where all was well and safe.  In the end, they left you on the ground and the money was gone. Your last thought was: Tommy is going to be so embarrassed. 

*** “Y/N?” You opened your eyes, but couldn’t see for a moment. “Y/N,” the familiar voice repeated, “Come on, yes, let’s get you home. Polly, Polly will know what to do, yes…” Strong arms lifted you up and rocking with his familiar limp, Curly carried you back to Watery Lane. When he’d taken you into the kitchen, Aunt Polly flew to your side in seconds, asking, “What’s happened?” Uncertainly, Curly explained and as he did, he started to become upset over your state. That’s when Tommy came in and started to calm him, while keeping an eye on you all the time. “Sweetheart,” Aunt Polly had taken a cold cloth to the cut in your lip, “Wake up… Come back to us…” Again you tried opening you eyes and you finally managed this time. But all your concern was with Curly, who was still anxiously fidgeting with his cap in hand. “Don’t worry, Curly,” you croaked, “I’m alright now. You did good, carrying me here.” “Polly will know what to do…” he kept on repeating. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder and it had an immediate calming effect, “It’s alright, Curly, go back to Charlie, eh? We’ll take care of her now.” Before he left, you said to him, “Curly? I’ll stop by tomorrow, see about that beautiful horse of yours, alright?” That put an immediate smile on his face, “Yes, she’s a beauty, alright… And she needs her princess to ride her! Back to that castle in the sky…yes…” When he’d gone, you lowered your head again and sighed deeply. Carefully, you felt your face and only then realised how awful you must look. “Who did this,” Tommy demanded at once. Polly glared daggers at him, “You did, I presume?” “Me?” “I told you again and again not to use the little ones to run errands. Sending them across half of Birmingham with money in their pockets, and look what happens!” For a moment, Tommy seemed to be speechless. Then he protested, “They’re invisible, Pol. Nobody knows they’re carrying anything.” “This one did,” you interjected, “because he knew who I was.” “How?” “Said he was with Kimber,” you whispered as the memories came back to you, “said he’d put me up against a post and he’d shoot me, like he’d do with you…” In a sudden fit of rage, Tommy grabbed a chair and flung it across the room. Polly snarled at the gesture and then turned to you, “Stay here. This cloth is cold, keep it against your eye, or it’ll turn black in half an hour, and I can’t take you to church looking like that. I just need to have a word with your brother.” You took the cloth and didn’t dare to look at Tommy, who was now being taken away by his aunt like he was ten years old again and in trouble. Aunt Polly closed the door behind her, but you still tried to hear as much as you could. Most of it was lost, but when they started shouting you heard bits like “putting your little sister in danger!” and “this is Billy fucking Kimber, Thomas” and “family first”. At first Tommy protested with “I didn’t know they knew her” and “Kimber is getting weak”, but eventually he shouted out in defeat, “I fucked up, alright? I’ll fix it. I promise.” When they came back, Tommy looked like a dog that’d just been kicked. So he retreated into a corner and started smoking, still sulking a little. Aunt Polly lifted your head up by placing a finger under your chin, “You won’t look pretty for a week, but it’ll heal.” You shrugged, not caring about being pretty at all, and muttered, “I feel like an idiot…” “Why?” your aunt demanded, “because big men decided to go after a small girl?” Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes, as you admitted, “Because I wanted to be brave! In my stories I’m pretty and strong and the hero, but in reality I’m just like a mouse. No one notices me and I’m useless…” “Sweetheart,” Polly softened her voice and crouched down next to you, “Just because you can’t fight like Arthur or John can, doesn’t make you useless. We’re all stuck here, in Small Heath, and there’s nothing pretty about that. But you reading all those books? That’s what’s going to make this easier. You can pretend, and that’s worth more than you’ll ever realise.” You smiled back at your aunt, who always knew what to say to make you feel better. “I’m off to the chemist to get you some powder against the pain,” she kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right back, love.” After she’d gone as well, you sighed again and dropped the cloth. Her words mattered, of course they did, but it didn’t change the fact that you weren’t happy with yourself at all. For starters, you still couldn’t bear looking at Tommy. “Y/N,” he grumbled, which convinced you even more he was angry and disappointed, “Tell me what they looked like.” “They didn’t wear hats…” Impatiently he waved a hand, “Apart from that. What else?” “I don’t know,” you shrugged, “it all happened fast, Tommy. They had that accent that Kimber has as well.” “Fucking Cockneys…” your brother breathed. “Tommy?” you tried carefully, “I’m so sorry, but I lost the money. I tried to keep it. When they asked I told them to fuck off and then I tried to run and even fight, but they still took it. I’m so sorry…” He held up a hand to silence you and locked eyes with you, “You told them to fuck off?” “Yes, but it didn’t help…” “You actually told them to fuck off?” he frowned, “Usually you’re too shy to even say anything to strangers…” “I was angry,” you explained, “and I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

Tommy walked over to you and much to your surprise, he was smirking, “So you told them to go fuck themselves, and then you fought them?” “Yes?” “Did you hit any of them?” You thought about it for a second, “I think I kicked one in the balls and hit the other in the face.” His grin grew even wider and he mumbled to himself, “Wait ‘till I tell Arthur about this…” “Why?” you protested, “So he can laugh at me as well?” “No, sweetheart, he’ll be the proudest brother ever. His little sister, who everyone thinks is a little mouse too scared to do anything? She fucking hit a grown man and told them to go fuck themselves. Now that’s a hero in my book!” His laugh was contagious and you had to join in. But soon you became uncertain again and asked, “Are you not upset I lost the money?” “The money’s not important,” his face grew serious again in an instant, “but you are.” “Really?” you whispered. “Yes,” he took your face in his hands, “Listen, Y/N, this is what’s going to happen: Billy Kimber threatened my little sister, so I’m going to put himup against the post, and shoot him.” “And then what?” “Well, what usually happens in your books? Maybe I could learn something from them, eh?” A warm feeling of being appreciated for who you were came over you, “You’d take his kingdom and his skull would be put up on the gates, as a warning for all future enemies.” “That’s fucking dark,” Tommy raised one eyebrow, “But I like it.” “Me too…” you smiled at your brother. “I mean it though, Y/N. Kimber touched you, so I’m going to shoot the bastard. I won’t let anyone fucking go near you again.” And just like that, you felt safe enough again to continue dreaming. *** A few weeks later, everything had turned to chaos, both in the Shelby household as in the whole of Birmingham. Tommy didn’t speak to anyone of what happened to you, he hadn’t even apologized, but he wasn’t like that. He told you he’d fix it, promised you revenge, and that was even better. When the men were counting minutes in front of the Garrison and Billy Kimber’s army arrived, you were sitting at home with a book. You couldn’t really concentrate, because you knew there were too many of them. You pretended some angel would appear to save them all. There’d have to be no bloodshed, because this angel would be on your brothers’ side. That angel came in the form of your older sister Ada. She’d always had flair. In the end, only two bullets were fired. You listened to them both. One killed Danny Whizz-bang. The other killed Billy Kimber. Nobody knew, but as Tommy fired, he didn’t have business on his mind.

As he aimed, he saw his little sister’s face, all bruised and battered.

He whispered, “for Y/N,” and shot.

Bang.

***

Masterlist

#peaky blinders #shelby sister #sister shelby #shelby!sister #sister!shelby #shelby sis #shelby sister imagine #sister shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #polly gray #polly gray x reader #ada shelby #cillian murphy #castle in the sky #the shelby clan

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Nothing for now unless I missed something.

Chapter 1

* * * * * * *

Music plays in your ears as the surrounding area blurs past you. Taking yet another lap around the overly large fountain, you feel the smallest drop of sweat trickle down the side of your head.

Running for two and a half hours seems to finally be yielding results.

You slow down some and a quiet, sarcastic, chuckle falls from your lips when another group of joggers passes by. They’d gotten here an hour ago and they were practically dripping sweat.

With a shake of your head you finish the lap in a matter of minutes, stopping afterwards and taking your headphones out. You take a few deep breaths as you look around.

The New York sky is as blue as it always is this time of year. People stroll by about a yard from where you stand, the streets and sidewalks bustling as usual, a few other runners on the same trail you just took.

A contented sigh leaves your lips.

For the first time in years, a calm peace washes over you. It’d taken you years to come to the decision to stop working, followed by a few months to mentally settle into your “retirement” as you’d been told it was.

The world doesn’t exactly need you anymore, earth’s mightiest heroes are doing all the saving and protecting now. Some of them you trust with your life while others you haven’t even met. All in all, you believe they’ve been getting the job done fairly well. Which made your retirement all the more easy.

If not working feels like this, you take another deep breath, you could get used to it.

Adjusting your headphones back into your ears, you barely jog three feet into your next lap when your phone rings. Fishing it out of your pocket, you sigh at the name displayed at the top and answer.

“Agent Y/Ln,” Fury’s voice floats into your ears,“ I need a favor.”

Just like that, you get the feeling you aren’t going to have the chance to get used to retirement.

* * * * * * *

Another uniformed guard walks by, his eyes glancing over at the two people in the cell, before he continues his leisure stroll down the hall.

The brunette archer runs his tongue across his bottom lip, eyes narrowing just barely before yet another pebble flicks across the cell and bounces off the wall right beside the ear of an already agitated ex-assassin.

“Barton, I swear to god if another rock comes within a foot of my face I will kill you before these morons even have the chance to consider it.” Natasha seethes, jaw clenching in frustration.

Clint snorts to hold in a laugh, raising his hands in surrender.“ My bad.”

Sighing heavily for the millionth time today, Natasha leans her head back against the cement wall, fingers gingerly running over the uncomfortable matching cement floor.

“You sure you don’t wanna play finger football with me?” He asks, flicking a triangular piece of paper towards his friend.

“Clint what the h-” she glares from him to the paper then back,“ where did you even get that?”

Letting his amused smile show, he answers,“ my pocket,” with a casual shrug,“ never know when you’re gonna get captured by psychotic evil German scientists.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, the red head holds in every noise of frustration and foul word in her arsenal. She already can’t believe she allowed herself to get captured, Clint’s incessantly childish behavior is only adding to her bad mood.

A mere eight hours ago she’d been on a very easy mission with her team. Infiltration and intel gathering was a form of work she was overly familiar with, having done it before and during her time with SHIELD and the Avengers.

But with a new recruit on the team, and this having been his first infiltration mission, figuratively communicative wires got crossed.

A simple “payload secure” came across as something different in Sam’s ears, what he heard she can’t even try to guess, but it led to him coming her way with a shit load of guards. Disgruntled sounds of fighting drew Clint to their location but even then the amount of enemies was overwhelming.

Distress calls were cut short and staticy through the short communication devices they had. So, being the only one with a clear and easy route out of the chaos, Sam was given the task to get out while he could and to send back up.

The seconds after he left, Natasha and Clint were taken, blinded, stripped of their weapons and comms, and brought to this cell.

While they were aware of the rescue coming for them, they still looked for a way out but found none. Especially not with the rotation of guards that patrolled by every half hour. Like clockwork, another was headed their way.

The whistling of an all too American song rang through the halls, slipping into the cell and grabbing the attention of both agents.

Clint’s eyebrows pinch together when the guard stops in front of the cell, then turns to face them. His calculating gaze trails over their body while an equally observant Natasha looks as well.

She stares at the guard, a stone cold expression masking her face as she commits your appearance to memory. Your eyes, hair, the build of your body currently clad in the same blue uniform as the other guards. Something was different though.

While the guards came off as exactly what they are, lackeys for whoever is running this show, you are much bigger. The look on your face isn’t as submissive and blank as the others.

Clint scoffs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes scanning over you,“ what’re you? A new hire?” He asks sarcastically, deciding to speak as he knows Natasha won’t say a word.“ Send you in to intimidate us?”

A silent moment passes.

“Buddy, you think I’m the bad guy?” You tilt your head with a raised eyebrow. A little chuckle leaves your lips at the confused expression he pulls and the one Natasha tries to hide.

Taking a step closer to the cage, you slip your arms between the cast iron bars and lace your fingers together.“ I’m here to save your asses. Since you went and got yourselves captured.”

For the first time Natasha speaks, a velvety soft voice flowing from the cement box into your ears,“ who sent you?”

Her green eyes look into yours and that, coupled with her voice, intrigues you even more. Seeing as you are more than aware of who Black Widow is. But you know now isn’t the time to fall into a gay panic over a gorgeous woman.

“Fury.” You answer,“ it’s not often Nick calls in a favor so I had to come. Now, let’s say we get out of here yeah?” They both watch as you grab hold of the bars, pulling one good time, arms flexing as you easily break the lock and send the door sliding open and slamming into the wall.

Clint and Natasha share a look as you step inside, walking over to Clint and breaking his chains first, then going to do the same to Natasha.

You raise an eyebrow at her expression after breaking the first chain,“ listen red, you don’t have to trust me.” She stands up and looks down at you, until you rise up and look down at her.“ But you do need to trust Fury. Got any complaints, take it up with him after you’re not surrounded by a bunch of lunatics with guns.”

With that she watches you exit the cell, looking left and right, then waving them forward as you go left down the corridor.

The two agents follow you as you silently incapacitate every guard in your path, sharing a look for the third time today.

As you’re taking down your tenth guard, Clint looks from you to Natasha.“ Are we really supposed to believe they’re on our side? Cause,” he takes a deep breath and releases it.

“They’re trusted by Fury.” Natasha looks at her friend,“ and that’s all I need to know for now.”

Stopping in front of a door, you peek through the glass, then take a step back. You square your shoulders and adjust the cap on your head, smiling dazzlingly at the two.

“Do me a favor, wait around that corner,” you point to the opposite side of them where a dark empty pocket sits in the hallway,“ and try not to get captured again.” You wink and step into the room without another word.

They stare at the door you disappeared into, long enough to hear you speak.

“Wo sind die Gefangenen in Zelle 4 hingegangen?”

Natasha understood your words perfectly fine but Clint was a little lost. The short silence followed your continued shout of,“ Finde sie! Jetzt! Eile!”

Eyes wide Natasha grabs Clint’s hand and pulls them into the dark just before a slew of guards pour out of the room and down the same way you’d all just come from.

Clint and Natasha barely have a chance to blink before the door beside them opens. Sunlight streams through the door, followed by you coming out of the room.

“Figured you might want these back,” you say as you stop in front of them and hold their confiscated weapons out to them.

Clint is quick to sling his quiver around his shoulders, extending his bow and hugging it, a quiet ‘I missed you’ muttered under his breath toward the inanimate object.

A snort of a laugh leaves your lips before Natasha takes her batons from you and holsters them at her sides.

Taking your cap off, you toss it aside and smooth your hand through your hair.“ Cover was blown about thirty seconds ago so,” you nod to the outside,“ let’s get to that fancy jet you’ve got a few miles out before the fireworks start.”

Flashing another confident smirk, you slip out the door. The two agents follow closely behind you. All three of you work almost flawlessly in taking down the guards in your path to the jet.

It comes into view and you stop to let them run ahead of you, turning to look at the building as it seemingly spontaneously combusts in three specific locations.

Satisfied with your work, you nod and turn around. Almost all eyes are on you as you jog up the ramp into the jet. A silent crunch is heard before you toss crumpled plastic and wires out of your hand.

“Can’t have them tracing that back to us.” You say, stepping fully into the jet and looking around as the door closes behind you.

Stern blue eyes stare into yours, an almost upset march carrying him to stand in front of you.“ If there’s anyone alive.” He says angrily.“ Did you stop to think how many people you may have just killed?”

Your eyebrow quirks up at his tone of voice. Trailing your eyes down his body you mentally purse your lips and nod. Admittedly you could see why Peggy was so smitten. Assuming he didn’t take this type of attitude with her.

However you can’t say you’re taken with the Captain America. His already condescending attitude wasn’t something you liked and while you know it’s a possibility he’s just this way cause you don’t know each other, it’s also possible he’s just an ass. Either way he isn’t why you’re here.

“Captain,” you nod,“ always thought our first meeting would be more pleasant than this. But aye, they say you’re never supposed to meet your idols right.” You shrug and step around him, making to head to the front of the jet.

Only his hand grips your arm and he spins you around with a glare now on his flawless looking face.

Glancing down at the offending hand on your arm, you figure he’s nonverbally demanding an explanation so you give it.“ There were charges at both entrances and the security room. I made sure to send everyone away from those areas before I blew it up. There may be some minor injuries, if that. But next time I’ll just leave and give them every opportunity to come after us, Captain.” You tell him, gripping his hand in yours and prying it from your arm.

His glare turns to a slight look of surprise. While his grip hadn’t been enough to hurt an ordinary human, yours was equal to, if not potentially stronger, than his true strength. Enough force to have broken anyone else’s hand in multiple places.

“Who are you?” He asks, maintaining his attitude.

Not one for dealing with that, you mumble your name to him and go to the front of the jet.

Your blank face morphs into a smile at the sight of the man in the pilot's seat.“ Never was one to give up control huh?” You ask teasingly as you drop your hand on his shoulder.

His gaze lands on you with a quick snap of his head towards you. The smirk on your face and the fact that it was actually you, made him snicker.

Making quick work of throwing the jet on autopilot, he moved his chair back and stood up to pull you into a hug, to the shock and surprise of every member of his team.

“Good to see you T.” You pat his back before pulling away.

A smile tugs on his lips and he nods.“ Ditto. This doesn’t count by the way.” He points a finger at you as you clap your hand on his shoulder.

“It definitely counts. A save is a save. Might not have been you exactly but-”

Waving you off he mumbles,“ yeah yeah.” Then looks at his teammates, his arm wrapping around your shoulders despite the height difference.“ I take it you met the team.” He says to which you nod.

“Can’t say they’re all that fond of me.” You chuckle softly, eyes scanning over the still agitated Captain America, a man in a modified flight suit, and the two people you just saved.“ Are they always so annoyed when they get their asses saved or is it me?”

Tony shrugs,“ Capsicle always been a little icy.” He jokes and you laugh, shaking your head and pushing him away from you.“ Nat is- well she’s Nat. I think she’s starting to warm up to me but that’s taken quite a bit of time hasn’t it Romanoff?”

His gaze directs to the redhead and you follow it. Your eyebrow raises at the mocking smile she gives Tony followed by her asking,“ who exactly is Y/n and how do you know each other?”

Both you and Tony glance at each other and you take the liberty of answering her question. Speaking to her directly gives you the chance to truly look into her green eyes, which you must admit you find very beautiful.

A range of emotions flicker over everyone’s faces as you dip your toe into your long complicated past. You simplify your back story, only telling them that you met Tony his family, that you’re a super soldier, created after Steve went into the ice, and that you’ve been a part of SHIELD for a while.

There were many questions thrown your way and you heavily debated with yourself whether or not you wanted to tell them everything. You didn’t think it’d hurt to be a little mysterious. But there’s also the thought that you won’t be seeing these people much anyway so does it truly matter if they know who you are.

Whatever decision you’d come to ceased to matter as the jet landed. The door opened and your eyes raised to read the words written across the top of the building.

“Avengers?” You mumble, glancing at your long time friend/brother. He makes that face, that “what’re you gonna do” nonchalant face Tony always makes. With a shake of your head, you follow him inside, but instead of going with him towards the hallway, you b-line for the elevators.

Tony’s voice calls out to you, effectively grabbing the attention of his teammates,“ not joinin us Y/nn?”

You look back over towards him, your eyes landing on Natasha’s green ones first then on Tony. Smiling a little you shake your head,“ debriefing isn’t for retirees, Stark.”

Natasha frowns at your words and Tony shakes his head with a breathy chuckle.

All of you turn away from each other, them heading to the meeting room and you facing the elevator as the doors slide open.

“Agent, glad you could stick around for the debrief.” Fury says, making you frown and shake your head.

“No no,” you raise a finger, essentially telling him to hold up.“ I’m not an agent. Retired, remember.”

He stops walking to look back at you. Tilting his head, he raises his eyebrow,“ that was until today. I believe you did some work, seeing as Natasha and Clint are back.”

A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you drop your head, groaning lowly,“ Nick please. You know-”

“That you’re on your way to the meeting room. Glad to hear it.” Leaving no more room to talk, he turns and walks away, breezing past the few Avengers who’d stayed behind to watch the interaction.

Grumbling under your breath, you follow after the man. Tony slaps his hand onto your shoulder, a small amused smirk on his lips as he guides you to the meeting room.

With a, in your opinion, justified glare directed at Fury, you plop down into a chair. The man snorts at the huff you let out, averting his eyes to everyone else who comes in.

To your surprise and silent pleasure, Natasha ends up occupying the chair on your other side. When her eyes land on you, you give a small smile and wiggle your fingers in a short wave.

Her eyes narrow at you and you wink. She just barely lifts a brow at the way your face morphs from one of amusement to a no nonsense expression.

You straighten up in your seat, fingers lacing together and resting on the table as your gaze focuses on Fury.

Natasha finds it a bit of a struggle to take her eyes off of you. Since the second she saw you back in Berlin she hasn’t been able to get a clear read on you.

“Romanoff, can I have your attention?” Fury tilts his head and looks directly into Natasha’s eyes.“ Or is that too much to ask?” His tone takes a sassy turn and the redhead rolls her eyes, focusing on him.

The debriefing goes exactly how everyone is used to it going. They go over the original objective of the mission, then everyone gives a run down of what happened: the part they played, how they contributed to the objective, and in this case how things went south.

“Y/Ln,” Fury says, making Natasha’s gaze snap over to you. Had you been looking at her, you would’ve seen the surprise flicker through those green orbs.

“Director,” you nod in reply before going into detail about your infiltration into the German base and the extraction of Natasha and Clint.

All while you talk, Natasha looks at you. You, Agent Y/n Y/Ln. She can’t believe she didn’t connect the dots. Fury sent you in. You’d told her your name. She should’ve seen it. Everyone at SHIELD knows who you are. A lot of people outside of SHIELD know about you as well.

Your explanation of who you were in the quinjet wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. She didn’t think this often of someone but: you are a legend.

“- things considered,” Natasha regains focus on the conversation, looking away from you to Fury as you speak,“ the mission could’ve gone off flawlessly.”

The man crosses his arms and shifts his weight,“ and what would you say the problem is Agent?”

“Underestimation sir. Or maybe misinformation.” Your response is a bit of a shock to everyone. You take their silence as an opportunity to further explain. You thought it was simple.

The mission was to grab intel from a science lab. As to be expected, the scientists and information there would be guarded. The underestimation or misinformation came in how heavily guarded the place was. Whatever surveillance or recon they had done wasn’t enough. So when they went in to collect they were overwhelmed or caught off guard which resulted in Natasha’s and Clint’s capture.

Everyone takes your words in stride, majority of them processing it and storing it for a time in which they’ll need to use it.

Shortly after that the debriefing ends with a few, what you know is meant to be taken as, encouraging words from Fury. Everyone stands after he’s left, starting to file out.

Once again as you make to leave, Tony stops you. He slaps your arm and you know he’d used as much force as he could behind the action.

Used to this from him, you sigh and shake your head, a small amused smirk on your lips as you look at him.“ What is it now Tony?”

He smiles at you,“ why don’t you hang out for a bit. Haven’t seen the tower yet.” You raise your eyebrow at him, gaze flicking to the redhead that walks past behind him, her eyes on you for a second before she looks away. Smile turning into a smirk he adds,“ you might just find a reason to stick around.”

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @yumusak-yastik

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natalia romanoff #natalia romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #moment in time #reader insert

[lady-literature]

Accidental Crime Boss Marinette

Okay so,, I have this AU in my head, right? (not surprised) and I’m lacking any real direction for it (still not surprised) but it basically goes like this:

Marinette moves to Gotham.

She’s drawn there for whatever reason and the kwami are saying something about balance and being a Guardian and her sacred duty and something but Marinette isn’t really listening. She’s too busy trying to find a shop front where she can open a bakery without having to worry about getting mugged every time she steps outside.

Chloé comes with her, obviously, because they’re friends and Chloé has a business degree she puts to good use actually running Mari’s bakery and online boutique while Mari gets to bake and fuck around basically. Adrien, Luka and Kagami are not there, but that’s mostly because they travel too much to settle down and keeping an empty apartment in Gotham is just asking for trouble.

Kagami is a world-renowned fencer and Luka travels the world for his music company. Not touring, but soaking up cultures and ways of life so he can make soundtracks to movies and tv shows. Providing the background and life to a film is more his style than touring the world ala his father, Jagged Stone.

Adrien is having the time of his life being Kagami’s trophy husband. He has no pressing responsibilities he doesn’t take on for himself and he gets to fuck with the world’s elite with little to no consequences. He spends most of his days donating far too much money to charities and orphanages and then causing minor scandals that land him on the cover of magazines.

He has much the same kind of ‘dumbass with a heart of gold’ persona to the media as Bruce Wayne does, only without the playboy bits.

(There is a wall in the back of the bakery, where Chloé and Mari carefully cut out and frame every headline and ridiculous picture Adrien has. He is very much delighted when he learns about his ‘wall of fame’.)

Anyway, Marinette finds herself with a bakery not overly far from crime alley, much to Chloé’s chagrin.

(“What do you mean it ‘just felt right’?! I swear to kwami, DC, you’re going to get us robbed and sold into slavery.”)

They do not get sold into salvery.

In fact, despite their less than stellar choice of locale, they do pretty well for themselves. The only problems they have (according to Chloé) is the army of children Marinette accidentally attracted.

When asked, Marinette tells everyone that it was an accident. Meanwhile, Chloé, standing behind her, will shake her head and insist there was literally never any other option for them the moment that first kid came in looking to nab some cash and a few pastries.

Mari lives by the phrases, ‘kindness breeds more kindness’ and ‘do unto others’ and all that other nice person shit. Chloé just lets Mari pseudo-adopt her strays and makes sure that they don’t steal anything too important in the time it takes her to gain their loyalty.

The kwami stay staunchly out of any arguments involving the kids (and eventually the homeless all along their street and every working girl in a five-block radius). They do so with a special brand of amusement that never means good things for either of them. (After all, the last time the kwami looked that amused, they moved to Gotham.)

The first kid is named Serrure, as Marinette comes to learn over the next month after he returns again and again, getting closer and closer like a feral cat. Other kids come during that time, all of them too small and too thin and too guarded for Mari's tastes. She wants to wrap them all up and tuck them into bed but she can’t. She has to be patient, has to be gentle. These kids are just as likely to bite her hand as they are to accept help.

Serrure becomes an almost permanent fixture at the bakery after that first month. Mari’s not quite sure what she did to get through to him, but she did, she supposes. He can’t be much older than eleven and looks nine, but after getting settled, she and Chloé discover this little slip of a boy is just as mischievous as Trixx and has all the dramatics of their favorite black cat.

The kwami, when talking about him, only refer to Serrure as Loki, even after Marinette scolds them for it. She eventually gives up trying to correct them, it’s not like Serrure talks to them anyway(yet)((that she knows of)).

There’s an apartment above the bakery, which is where Chloé and Mari and all her strays that grow to trust her enough live. It’s three bedrooms, and at first, Mari just buys as many bunk beds as she can fit into the spare room and calls it a day. The kids feel safe in her home, which isn’t too surprising. Everyone thinks the bakery feels safe, feels like home or comfort or whatever else eases their minds.

And Marinette should hopes so. She certainly put enough time and effort and magic and energy into the wards around this place for that to happen. To protect her and the children and all her strays that no one else will help.

But, she eventually amasses too many kids to fit into the one room. Chloé throws a fit about having to share with Mari again—“I had enough of that in university thank you very much”—but she relinquishes easily enough.

Mari buys more bunk beds, and Serrure has taken to sneaking into her room to curl up in her bed anyway, and sometimes the smaller kids who have nightmares will come in and pile on as well.

(There are only a few that Chloé will allow to do the same with her. It is considered a high honor and breeds a playful kind of jealousy that Chloé finds amusing. Mari scolds her for pitting the kids against each other.)

That only lasts them another two months.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Chloé tells her one day before the kids wake up. Mari is at the stove, cooking and baking for a small army while Chloé balances the books. “There’s not enough room for us all, DC, and the only reason someone hasn’t come barrelling down on us about the abundance of children is by the grace of your absurd amount of luck.”

“Well I can’t just kick them out, Queenie! What do you want from me?”

“Either we need to buy more real estate in this city—which I’d rather not do—or you open up the grimoire and start building pocket dimensions. I know you can. I’ve read the chapter.”

Marinette looks at her. “That is such a bad idea.”

They do the idea.

And then Mari adds about a thousand more wards to the bakery, carved into the wood and counter and anything that’s a permanent fixture. Doorways become particularly ward heavy, what with them being the entrances and exits to the hidden realms and children’s’ rooms.

The apartment above the bakery isn’t quite infinite but it gets pretty damn close some days.

This also means, of course, that all the kids definitely know about magic now. Some of them—Serrure—have known about it for a while she knows, but it’s different now. The kwami followed her around most of the time and she doesn’t keep them trapped in the Miracle Box like Fu did, but now that the kids know, they don’t bother staying hidden.

The children, at least, love them and the kwami adore them with all the ferocity a god can give. After Chloé gets over her ‘ew children’ phase, she throws herself into their education (on top of actually running the businesses Mari keeps, mind you). She has the help of the kwami, who act as personal tutors to the children, and it’s not long before the kids start to joke about her being the Principal.

(Some tried to call her Warden, but that joke didn’t last long.)

Marinette has also been telling the kids bedtime stories ever since this started. Old stories of the Guardian and Chosens who fought back the darkness, she shares all she knows of the Orders history with these kids and it’s not until Wayzz points it out to her does she realize what she’s doing.

“Ladybugs are known for renewal. It is no surprise that you are rebuilding what was lost.”

Rebuilding the Order using children was certainly not her intention but, well. She supposes there’s no place safer for her kids than what is shaping up to be the new Miracle Temple. It’s the only haven where they can learn to harness their Gifts and powers, it’s the only place where they can be surrounded by others like them without being thrust into superhero-dom.

Context: about a month into this whole circus, Marinette had realized there was a significant—almost all of them really—amount of metas and Gifted in her little hoard of strays. Which is… odd. Especially with how few metas there are in Gotham.

She had asked the kwami about it, and they have that amused look again. “You are their guardian.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re their guardian. True, you are the Guardian of us, of the ancient ways, but you are a guardian at your soul too. You protect what is yours, and they are yours whether you realise it or not. The children can sense that, so they flock to you.”

And, huh. She supposes that makes sense but that’s also really kind of strange and weird and she doesn't want to think about that anymore actually.

So things are… fine, Marinette supposes. The bakery is doing well, and she has about two dozen-plus helpers running around underfoot to help tend to the customers or run to the store or help in the back with the baking. And every kid of hers has new clothes, their street things thrown out for being too ragged and replaced with something fresh made by Marinette’s own hands.

She embroiders little fairy wings into the clothes normally, because that’s what her cloaked wards look like most times and the kids like it and its technically the logo for the bakery and there’s a million reasons she does it.

It is, perhaps, her first mistake.

(“It was certainly not your first,” Chloé will snark one dayin the future.)

Because now Marinette has an army of magical children learning to wield their powers and not fear them and they’re all wearing what can be considered her insignia and uh oh, it looks a lot like Mari is some sort of up and coming mob boss who uses kids and prostitutes and the homeless as runners. People on the street start calling her the Pixie, start referring to Chloé—her second in all things just as Chat had been her equal—as Wasp, as Yellowjacket, as the Unseelie.

(They cannot seem to pick a name for her, but Pixie is all but engraved in stone. Mari is not sure who coined it, and she doesn't think she wants to know.)

The first time the whole situation is brought to her attention, she punches the idiot who dared even imply such a thing so hard she knocks him out.

Because look. The kids are hers right? And she watches out for the people near her, makes sure the working girls are treated as well as they can be and offers the homeless extra food and a dry place to wait out the storm. She offers her hand and gives them all a place to rest, to eat, to exist without expectations or consequences.

She does that because she’s kind, because it hurts her to see people in need, to see them suffer, not because she’s hoping to gain something from it.

The fact that most of them repay her in gossip or information or bend her ear about the newest goings on in the corrupt elite or filthy underworld is strange, yes, but it’s nice to know what’s going on in the city, she supposes. And one time, Kathy, who works on the corner of Brookes and Gilmore, warned her of a drug raid that saved her an unnecessary trip to the police station so it’s not like it doesn't have it’s uses.

But mostly, Mari doesn't really think about all the information that’s unintentionally or otherwise passed onto her. She remembers it all, because it’s rude not to listen when people talk to her, but nothing comes of normally.

Not until Serrure—now twelve and well versed in the magic of illusions and glamors and knows almost as much about this city as her or the Bats—bursts into the bakery one day and grabs Mari away from the front counter right in the middle of a customer ordering. She should, perhaps, be a little angry at that but Tony, one of the older boys and just shy of sixteen, steps into her place almost immediately, so.

And then Serrure speaks and everything is pushed aside in favour of the next words to fall from his lips.

“Someone took Sophie,” he says and she nearly sees red.

After Serrure, Sophie has been here the longest. She is the youngest of them all, only seven, but oh so clever and kind and while she looks nothing like her, everyone calls her Mini-Mari. If Serrure is her beloved first son, Sophie is her treasured daughter.

She’s out the door in the next moment, storming her way to their base. She has Sophie and a handful of extra kids back by sunset, a little frightened, but no worse for wear. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, besides making sure that the idiots who dared cross her never do so again, but word gets out.

Soon, her kids and teens and adults begin giving her more than just information, they begin giving her problems. Ones she’s meant to fix because she’s Pixie. She’s safety, she’s protection, she’s the one the people start to turn to for help.

And enter stage left, one Jason Todd who’s all snark and charm and smiles wrapped up in a nice leather bow and tall enough that Mari likely could climb him like a tree. If that was something she wanted, she guesses.

(She wants. She just won’t admit.)

He becomes a regular at the bakery and befriends most of her kids.

Mari’s wary when he first takes an interest in them. They’ve been hurt and a lot of them are still adjusting to being safe and it doesn't matter that this man is hot enough to burn, if he steps even a toe out of line with her kids she’ll make him wish he was never even born.

But, she stops worrying eventually. The kwami like him well enough, but seem to think something’s odd about him—but its Gotham, who isn’t strange?—and both Serrure and Sophie take to him like ducks to water and they’re both good judges of character.

There’s a certain intuition they both have that reminds Marinette just a bit too much about herself and pure magic. Not for the first time does she wonder if they got such strong magic from their parents or if it cropped up in them randomly, fostered by fortune and chance and the magic that’s so deeply seeped into the bones of her bakery it’ll be here long after she’s gone.

And, okay, so she was a little right to be wary because Jason was mostly there to investigate her. Far too many people respect her and are loyal to her and she has a veritable orphanage in her pocket and also Harley and Ivy like her and it just- it doesn’t look good right?

But Jason’s a good detective and it doesn't take him long at all to see that Mari is just as sweet and kind and loving as she appears to be. Not long after that, Red Hood declares Pixie and all of hers, under his protection. She, of course, is more than capable of taking care of her and hers, and the underworld knows this, has seen it, but he does it anyway.

The news, of course, gets back to Mari and she is… confused. Why would the Red Hood do something like that? She’s heard talk of him being sweet on kids, but to claim her? They’ve never even met.

Bonus points for Jason being there when she’s told about it. He kind of raises his eyebrow at her because, huh, that was fast, and then spends the next few minutes talking up the Red Hood to her much to her utter bafflement.

He actually keeps doing that too, talking up the Red Hood. Mari thinks he has a crush on the man for the longest time because of it. Until he reveals he is Red Hood, then she just wants to punch his stupidly handsome face for being such an idiot.

Shit happens from there and things go down and the two spend a couple of months dancing around each other and intentionally and unintentionally ruling the criminal underworld and at one point Marinette definitely punches Bruce and Batman in the face—separately, much to Jason’s unending joy—and she also definitely adopts Duke/Signal as well because that poor boy needs to know he’s not alone.

And it’s just them being domestic and badass and lowkey raising an army of children and falling in love while the kwami and the kids and Chloé are all in the background just yelling at them to get together already!

Which, they do. Eventually. After all the secrets come out and Jason knows about the magic and Order and meets Mari’s other friends, ie Kagami, Luka and Adrien who are all intimidating for wildly different reasons. And Mari finds out that Jason died and came back (which earns him the nickname firebird btw) and that he was a Robin once upon a time but is now Red Hood and oh my kwami it all makes sense now.

Jason confesses like three times via classic Victorian romance novel quotes because he’s a fucking literature nerd but it’s not until he basically spells it out for Mari does she really understand. it’s all very sweet and heartwarming and then the pair duck into one of the empty pocket dimensions they have lying around and aren’t seen for three days.

(No one really goes to look for them tbh)

Chloé definitely teases them about early honeymoons and things but besides the two being even more ridiculously lovey-dovey than usual, life goes back to normal. Or as normal as it gets for them. 

And they all live happily ever after the end.

#maribat #jasonette #my typewriter #batfam #crime boss mari #miraculous ladybug #dc #mlb x dc #i was possessed by the need to write this all down #i have so many random ass moments from this au #just scenes taht barely fit together #zero coherency #let me know if yall want that ig #?

[heliads]

Never Trust Your Friends

Y/N might have feelings for Newt, the newly arrived blond runner. Newt might have feelings for Y/N, the second in command who’s been in the Glade longer than anyone except Alby. When Minho and Alby assign them both to work together on a project, they’re sure it won’t end well.

masterlist

If he were smart, Newt would not be staring. He would be focused on his friends, on the bubble of chatter surrounding him. He would most certainly not be staring at the girl and boy across the Glade who stand together, speaking in hushed tones. They’re leaning against a wall of the Homestead, exchanging words as their eyes cut across the Glade, lingering on different people. Alby gestures towards the scraggly woods of the Deadheads and says something, Y/N nods and counters his point. But Newt doesn’t know any of this, because he is decidedly not looking at them. Not at all.

There’s a laugh from behind him, and Newt belatedly turns to see Minho striding up next to him. “If you spend any more time focusing at Y/N instead of your food, Frypan’s going to burst into tears.” Newt glares at his friend. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Minho just grins. “I’m sure you don’t. Are you obsessed with Alby instead? Is that why you keep looking over at them?” Newt shoves Minho, but the dark-haired boy just laughs harder.

Maybe Newt’s not exactly being subtle. Yet even after Minho walks away, still chuckling quietly to himself, Newt’s gaze flickers back to Y/N and Alby. Their heads are bowed in conversation as they talk over every aspect of life in the Glade. Alby’s first in command and Y/N is second, and between the two of them, they’ve managed to make life here in the Maze make sense. At least, as well as you can when you’re a group of teenagers living in a giant bugging labyrinth.

Alby was the first one to show up in the Glade. Newt can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like to arrive in the Box, utterly alone except for the shrieks of the Grievers at night. Y/N came up next, and the two of them had to figure out how to survive with no one else around. They don’t trust anyone as well as they trust each other, although that’s no surprise. They had each other’s backs when nothing made sense, and their friendship has only grown as more and more people arrived at the Glade.

Some days, Newt wonders if he could have been able to do the same- show up in the Glade with only one other person and not lose his bloody mind. No matter how hard it was, how many times they came close to giving in, Y/N and Alby still managed to set up the Glade and all of its rules, which have lasted the months until now. Newt came up a couple months after them, and he’s been able to watch as Y/N and Alby shape the very lifestyle of the Glade.

Somehow, it doesn’t surprise Newt that Y/N and Alby were the first ones sent up through the Box. He doubts anyone else could have managed the daunting task of running the Glade and keeping everyone in line. Newt can still see them now, where they always meet at the end of the day to run through everything that happened and make mental checklists of what needs to be accomplished tomorrow. Newt is lucky he’s a runner- all he has to do is keep moving. Y/N and Alby have to consider the wellbeing of every single one of these poor shanks, and Newt just wears holes in his trainers alongside Minho.

Newt stands up, stretching. He hands his empty plate to Frypan, heading back towards the Map Room to make sure the day’s run has been properly catalogued. Just before he disappears into the only half-completed wooden hut, Newt glances over his shoulder one last time. A slight smile appears on his face when he sees Y/N. Of all the Gladers, she might just be his favorite.

You’re considering a tomato plant in front of you when you first see them. Today, you’ve been directed to work with the track-hoes: some slinthead was fool enough to mess with the builders and now he’s spending the day under the watchful gaze of the Med-jacks. There are barely enough track-hoes as it is, so you’ll be filling in the spot until the guy heals sufficiently to garden once more. That’s the role of a second-in-command, you suppose, doing whatever needs to be done.

The tomato plant in question is finally ripe. You’ve been eyeing it for a couple of days now, and you think it looks good. You reach for a makeshift basket, propping it up on your hip while you pluck the crimson red vegetables (or is it fruits?) from the stem. A sudden movement beyond the rows of plants distracts you, and you look up to see the figures of two boys running through the Glade, having just left the towering walls of the Maze behind them. Newt and Minho, done with their day’s work as Runners.

They spot you and smile, and you raise a hand in greeting. You do your best to look casual, effortlessly cool, but you’re not sure that you’ve succeeded. Your eyes linger on Newt for maybe a second longer than they should, and you watch as the boys head towards the Map Room while their path is still locked in their memory. You thought no one else was around to witness the blush creeping onto your cheeks, but if there’s one thing you should have learned throughout all of your months in the Glade, it’s that nothing will ever go your way. Ever.

Alby leans a hand against the tomato plant in front of you, startling you from your thoughts. You do your best to quell your flinch of surprise, but it’s no good. He’s already grinning with barely suppressed laughter. “I thought you were supposed to be staring at the tomatoes, not the Runners.” You hit him with your gardening glove, but it does nothing to staunch the gleam of triumph in his eyes. “Am I not allowed to greet my friends? Should I turn my back and ignore them instead?”

Alby crosses his arms on his chest. “I didn’t realize greeting your friends involved watching the blond one from the second he entered the Glade.” You look around frantically, making sure Zart and the others can’t hear you, before reaching to swat Alby once more, although this time he’s expecting it and dodges out of the way. He frowns at you. “Hey, rule number two. Never hurt another Glader. I thought you were the one who came up with that.”

You shoot him a look. “I wrote that rule before you started making fun of me. If you’re not careful I’ll revoke it.” Alby shakes his head. “Afraid not. I outrank you.” You mutter something under your breath. “Not if I get rid of you first. I’d have to replace you.” Alby just grins. “If you kill me, you’ll have to explain a homicide to Newt. How would he like you then?” You can only hope that Newt is still in the Map Room, because otherwise the blond boy would see you chasing a laughing Alby out of the gardens with an outraged shout.

It’s a new month, a new day. Newt hears the loud alarm of the Box before he sees it show up, and he and a few others make their way to the center of the Glade to see what new Greenie has been brought before them. He and Minho had managed to get through their section early, so they get to witness the arrival of the latest Greenbean along with the others. About ten minutes later, there’s a shuddering jolt as the Box locks into position.

Newt helps the others fling the doors to the Box open, and just like clockwork, a boy lies on the ground, flung back by the force of the Box coming to a stop. He squints up at the Gladers lining the edge of the Box, blinded by the sunlight. Gally jumps into the Box, offering a hand and the usual declaration- “Day one, Greenie. Rise and shine.”

The Greenie looks as confused as anyone else. He’s tall, with dirty blond hair and a faded off-white t-shirt. The guy’s apparently got the chops to be a runner, as he takes off in a sprint the second his feet touch the ground of the Glade. He doesn’t go far, though, too stunned by the looming walls of the Maze to leave the grassy clearing. Later, Newt hears him shout out his name in a stunned gasp- Ben, Newt thinks he said.

Some Glader arrives to take the Greenie on a tour, so Newt turns his attention back to the Box and the crates awaiting attention within. Newt sees Minho head over to Alby, and the Runner says a few words in a low whisper. Identical, crafty grins spread over both of the boys’ faces, and a sudden feeling of dread rolls over in Newt’s stomach as the boys glance over at him. Alby steps forward. “Okay, you know the drill. Time to check the contents of the Box. This time, the lucky shanks will be, uh, Y/N and Newt.”

Newt stares at Minho in barely suppressed outrage, while his friend does his best to contain a laugh. Newt can practically read the boy’s mind- You won’t talk to her yourself, I’ll do it for you. After a second’s hesitation, Newt strides over, jumping down into the Box and landing with a mild impact on the metal floor. Y/N leaps down a few moments after him, and Newt can hear the sound of the other Gladers returning to their usual jobs above them. Within seconds, it’s just Newt and Y/N in the Box. What is he supposed to do now?

The only thing he can do is what Alby asked him to do- unload the crates of supplies. Y/N pulls a worn pad of paper from her pocket, flipping to a fresh sheet and beginning to jot down the contents. Newt helps to pry open some boxes, checking what’s inside and reporting back. After the fifth box or so, Y/N groans, leaning against the cool metal walls of the Box as a reprieve from the boredom of the tasks. “Shuck, I hate Greenie Day.”

Newt smiles in spite of himself. “Because of the Box or because of the greenie?” Y/N glances over at him. “Both. Too many boxes, and now some new guy’s going to follow me around all day asking questions.” Newt leans over a nearby crate, trying and failing to drum up the energy to continue cataloging the supplies. “Hey, you made Alby go take the tour with the Greenie. That puts the majority of the questions on him.”

Y/N smirks at that. “It’s what he deserves for making me do manual labor.” Newt frowns. “You work with the track-hoes all the time.” Y/N flashes him a grin that makes Newt’s heart freeze in his chest. “That’s different.” Newt returns her grin. “Is it, or are you just complaining?” Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, but she stands up and continues on to the next crate. “I’m ignoring that.” When she hands him another box, their hands touch briefly, and Newt’s distracted from all thoughts of greenies and track-hoes or anything in this bloody Maze. Maybe Minho isn’t so bad after all for sending him down here.

You’re going to kill Alby. There’s no question about it. You’re going to kill him, and there’s nothing he can do to stop you. He knew exactly what he was doing when he sent you down here, and that triumphant smirk on his face when he announced you’d be working with Newt was just the icing on the cake. Of course he’d send you down to the enclosed box with the boy you’ve been crushing on since he arrived here- Alby’s out for blood. Why would he pass up such a golden, perfect, absolutely ruthless opportunity?

It’s all you can do to focus on the crates. You’re gripping the pad of paper like it’s a lifesaver, and honestly, it just might be. Every moment that you spend meticulously copying down the supplies is a moment that you don’t spend looking over at Newt, and the way his golden hair flops down just slightly over his eyes, or the way his arms move when he’s lifting the boxes, or that slight curve of a smile when he looks over at you-

Yes, there’s no question about it- you’re absolutely smitten. If you weren’t sure before, you’re positive now. You do your best to focus on the work at hand instead of the unfairly attractive boy next to you, but it only does so much. That being said, there are enough crates to last far longer than you’d want. The light of late afternoon is shifting into dusk, and by the time Newt is tossing the final crate out onto the grass of the Glade, it’s dark enough that the walls of the Box seem to melt away into the dimly lit air.

Newt stretches his arms. “Well, I’m glad that’s over.” You can’t help a joke. “I can’t wait for next month.” He frowns. “You’re the second in command, aren’t you? Just write us out of this job in particular.” You roll your eyes. “Even second in commands have to follow the rules, even if I’d rather break them.” Newt grins, leaning casually against the wall. “I’ve seen the amount of stuff you and Alby have to handle. I think it would be alright if you skipped out on Box duty every now and then.”

You consider him for a second. “I like the way you think. Honestly, I think you would make a good second in command. If you ever get tired of being a Runner, the position is always open.” Newt shakes his head. “What about you? I can’t take your job away.” You shrug. “I’d step aside for you. You’re the only one in this entire Glade that I think could handle it.”

Newt straightens up, stepping away from the wall to move closer to you. “You mean it?” You stare at him, at the few inches separating him from you. “Yes. I trust you.” Newt nods slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, as if on an impulse, he leans forward and kisses you. You barely have a moment to realize it’s happening before he breaks away, something like regret beginning to color his eyes. “I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry-”

You cut off his whispers by kissing him again. This time, he doesn’t lean away, not for a while. The two of you stay there, arms wrapped around each other as the darkness falls fully against you, until the lights of the bonfire begin to blaze through the night. Newt smiles down at you, eyes shining with the starlight. “We should probably go before Minho and Alby come to see why we’re taking so long.” You laugh at that. “I’d hate to give them the satisfaction of being right.” Newt shares your laugh, then bends down to kiss you one last time before jumping out of the Box. You watch him as he stands there, silhouette barely visible against the dark, and when he extends a hand down to help you up, you take it without a second’s hesitation.

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