This Is So Incredibly True And Definitely Something Im Guilty Of Bc Its So Easy To Do- I Love This Study

This is so incredibly true and definitely something I’m guilty of bc it’s so easy to do- I love this study and will probably use it as a reference for future writings

thank you!!!!

The Fandom Versions of TMR Characters

The TMR fandom is amazing. It has a significant number of great people. It has some very talented editors and writers.

However, like every fandom with a good following, it has its issues. One of its worst ones is honestly one of the most obnoxious things one can have in my opinion.

It has awful mischaracterization. It's less of completely changing a character's personality and more of going off one trait and making that all that they are.

It feels like Thomas gets portrayed as an idiot who only asks questions or doesn't ever listen to anyone. He also gets called overrated even though he's the main character of the series.

We first get introduced to him when he's a Greenie with no memory (except for his name in the books). Of course he’s going to want to know what is happening to him. The Glader's start out revealing very little to not intimidate the Greenie's which has to be frustrating. While it is clear he wants to figure almost everything out throughout the series, that's a very human trait. He’s also definitely not stupid. WCKD/WICKED picked him to work with them because they saw something in him. He is incredibly intelligent and quick on his feet. A lot of the time, he’s given no notice to make a decision. He just has to make it. Whether it's running into the Maze to save Minho and Alby, having to decide whether or not to go through with Newt’s note, or going back to the place that started all the pain and torture, he wasn't truly given time to prepare for such important and life-changing decisions. Despite this, he always did his best to make them.

Newt probably has the worst fanbase. I love him as a character. He’s been through so much and is still doing his best to keep everyone in line and afloat which is extremely admirable.

The problem is that people water his character down. They’ll treat him as though he isn't a Second-in-command, the second longest surviving Glader, a suicide survivor, and resilient to the most dangerous situations.

Newt is not someone who would need protection. If anything, he was a protector. He would have to do things such as banish Gladers (his friends), to protect the other ones. He was a Runner before he got a limp. He stood up to Thomas in the movies when he thought he was just being paranoid, showing that even though he does love his friends, he isn't afraid to confront them if he thinks they are wrong. The way he still remains loyal to the people he loves when he does though, is another trait that deserves more acknowledgement. He went out of his way in the movies to hide that he was slowly dying in front of everyone’s eyes and losing his mind just for Minho. He never expected to make it but didn't care. In the books, he lied to his friends about being taken to protect them from himself. He’s so strong, self aware and beautifully written.

Minho is sarcastic and does have witty comebacks. However, he’s so much more than that.

He was the Keeper of the Runners. For around three years he was not only doing the most deadly job, but training others to do it as well. He wasn't allowed to have fear or be weak in the Maze. Not when the cost would have been his life. Something more complex about him is the way he covers up his actual emotions. During Chuck's death in the movies everyone else is allowing their tears to fall. However, he closed his eyes so he wouldn't cry. Whether it's because he doesn't want to cry in front of people or just doesn't want to cry is uncertain, but both are painful to think about. Another thing about him is very subtle character development. When he first gets caught in the Maze, not only does he give up at first, he at one point leaves Thomas and Alby behind, showing his intense desperation to live despite him wanting to stay realistic. In the last two movies we don't see any other instances of him being willing to accept defeat or leaving others behind. While he may have been given the tag ‘the leader' it isn't something that could ever or should ever be denied about him.

His bond with Newt is also something that honestly deserves more recognition. From the way he dropped to his knees in the movies to how Thomas didn't tell him how he really died due to how much the two cared for each other, they are nothing less than platonic soulmates.

Gally gets a lot of hate. He’s seen as angry and ‘that character who killed Chuck’. In a lot of ways though, I think he's one of the most logical, relatable, and realistic characters.

While some people think he just randomly hated Thomas and Teresa, that's not at all true. In the movies, he seems civilized with him when they first meet. While his action of shoving him before he could go into the Maze may have seemed performative, the fear was most likely needed for Thomas to grasp the gravity of the situation. He can also be seen shaking hands with Thomas in Greenie night after the fight. In the books, he went through the changing. He was stung so he got some of his memories back the way Alby did. He told Thomas that he recognized him from those which was why he was suspicious towards him. His concerns were valid. Everything did change after Thomas and Teresa, and a lot of Gladers ended up dead. At one point, they had both worked for WICKED/WCKD. Something was up with them, the exact way he said there was. If someone came to my home and changed everything I knew I wouldn't trust them either. He cared for the Gladers and wanted the people he lived with for years to stay safe and be alive. He didn't want to just kill Teresa and Thomas. He wanted things to go back to how they were in a sense. He was afraid of leaving his home. He was afraid of change, the way so many people are.

He didn't kill Chuck. He would never hurt Chuck. In the books, WICKED had both him and Chuck under their control. In the movies, he was stung, meaning his actions did not belong to him. Even then, he was not aiming for the sweet kid. He was aiming for Thomas, who in his mind at the time, was one of the ones who had started him and his friends years of pain and suffering.

Movie Aris is my favorite. He is very sweet but the way people will describe him as innocent is wrong.

I do consider him and book Aris two different characters. So for now, this is strictly about him in the movies.

He’s seen alone when we first meet him. His friends are gone, and people are talking about him like a circus animal so it makes sense why he wouldn't want to be around anyone. He’s generally quieter than a lot of the main characters so he can get mistaken for just a background character. However, he literally got everyone out of WCKD. He never got any recognition for saving them, but he still did. When he does open his side of the door for everyone to get out there is at least one unconscious, previously armed guard on the ground, with his weapon now being held in his hand. This shows that he is capable of taking care of himself despite his at first glance passive demeanor. He knows to break the control pad to buy everyone time and books it. What must be less than an hour later, he’s helping take down Cranks with a single bat, also showing quick thinking from the way he knows to trip them so they could focus on getting away. Not to mention, he’s doing all of this after finding out his friend (and possible lover) is going to die. On a lighter note, we see his face light up and how much he talks with Sonya and Harriet when they all meet again, showing that he's not afraid of speaking to others. He just has a few and specific group of people he feels comfortable actually talking with, which is literally just being an introvert.

All of those are why he is not innocent or in need of saving. He knows how to look after himself and others.

That's just the basics of The Maze Runner fandom's mischaracterization problem.

also if you aren’t american then what right have you to tell americans what our duty is?

you don’t live here and you don’t vote for our president

I'm not even American but I need to vent.

I assure you Americans that elections and politics suck worldwide, and not just for you. Save from a few cases here and there, candidates are always either too old, too shady, or just too stupid.

But more than candidates, you are voting for their policies.

It's your duty to vote for the better or just the lesser evil policy among them.

The "two sides are equally awful" is seldom true and it's just a lie to excuse passivity.

You have a duty for your marginalized folks and yourself to make your society better or at least stop it from getting worse.

Biden has quite a interesting history of progressive policies done, while Donald Trump is just a convicted fellow, darling of white supremacy, and the god of religious freaks.

There's no place on Earth where these candidates are the same.

Even if your hate Biden based on his softness with the current Far-right government of Israel, Trump is cherished by Israel far-right, is deeply Islamophobic, and even use Palestinian as an insult. He will be even worse for Palestine.

You have to vote, you have to exercise your civic duties. The two parties aren't the same and saying that is just an excuse for passivity.

It won't fix the world I assure you. There will still be things to be one. You still will have to protest, to get involve with politics, to help good policy be made and set in motion. But just voting is the first, and most important step for it.

@ariel-seagull-wings @mask131 @thealmightyemprex @the-blue-fairie @princesssarisa

THIS SONG IS SO UNDERRATED

LIKE-

ITS CRIMINAL BC ITS SO FREAKING HOT

SCREW THAT THIS WHOLE DANG ALBUM IS UNDERRATED

ITS TOO MUCHHHHHHH

a/n: sorry this took me way longer than I wanted 😭 I’ve had no motivation and I even had to have a friend help me finish writing it, things have been a little rough lately. I hope you all enjoy!

The friend that helped me is @galactic-junkyard and much love to her bc I literally could not have finished this without her

enjoy!

Requested by @futuristicyouthvoid (again sorry it took so long)

Minho x fem!reader

Warnings: blood and an injury, it’s just fluff honestly though

Two years. You’d been in the Glade for two shucking years. You were also one of the first people in the Glade after a few others, so you were there when the rules were made. You were there when mistakes were made, and you’d seen a lot of people die trying to escape the maze. Not only all of this, but you were the only girl. The only girl in a very confined area with a whole bunch of boys. Thats why you became a runner, you wanted to see first hand exactly what was going on in the maze, and it gave you some time alone. 

You definitely had friends, but they were never your top priority, the maze always came first. The only person you truly took time for was Minho. You never noticed the special attention that he payed you, or the special attention that you payed him. Sure you were aware of how very attractive he was, but the maze should always come first. 

And besides what would be the point of ruining such a good friendship for a dumb relationship. What would even be the point of dating in the maze? It’s not anything could really come from it, right? 

This is what you say to yourself everyday. You can’t get distracted. The only thing that matters is getting out. 

And it stayed that way for a while. It got boring and the maze got more frustrating, but you had to push through.  

It was on a run that everything changed. Those shucked up grievers. You knew how they worked, you knew their usual routes that they took during the day. You knew how to avoid them. But today they were acting different, you were running section 2 like normal, thoughts going through your head as fast as your feet were running. You weren’t really paying to your surroundings, just leaving a trail of cut vines to find your way back. 

That’s why you didn’t notice the clicking and whirring of the griever. That’s why it was too late for you to run. The griever reached its mechanical claw out and was unable to grab you, but did manage to cut you. A long deep cut down your left leg. 

“Shuck!” You cry out. The  pain makes you want to stop, but to stop is to die, so you push on. After five turns your vision starts to blur, but the griever is still following you close behind. Blood is pouring out of your leg, and black is clouding the edge of your vision.

“Help! Help me! Minho!” Your voice breaks and you trip over a stray vine and hit your head. You don’t know what compelled you to yell Minho’s name, but out of all the names you could have yelled, you chose Minho. As your vision fades, you see a blurred blue shirt and then everything goes black.

You open your eyes to see a cracked open window, letting in warm afternoon light. Pounding fills your head and you go to sit up, only to fall back down, a sharp pain running through your leg. 

Why does everything hurt? 

“Hey y/n, how are you feeling?” Clint briefly looks over you, making sure your movements haven’t opened any wounds. 

You let out a bitter chuckle “Good as I can be I guess. What-“ you cut yourself off as you look around and see the sleeping figure of Minho, slumped over in the crudely built chair next to your bed.

“…How long has he- how long have I been out?” You briefly take your eyes off of Minho to glance up at Clint as he begins to move about the room, grabbing clean bandages so he can change your dirty ones. 

“It’s been about three days now, and yes- he’s been here this whole time” he gestures to Minho.

“Oh- three days? I- has he eaten anything?” Concern fills your voice, you know Minho, he’s stubborn and if he’s been by your bedside you don’t doubt that he hasn’t moved for anything. 

“No, like I said-“ just as Clint started to speak, Minho’s head shot up.

“Y/n?” Minhos groggy voice matched his lopsided hair.

“Morning sunshine-“ Clint teases as Minho shuffled over to your side.

“Shut up.” Minho snipped back before turning his full attention to you. “Are you okay..?” He asked cautiously, his voice had an undertone of care and warmth to it.

“Fine.. a little sore-“ you begin before getting cut off by the other runner.

“Where?” His eyes scan your body, making your cheeks flush. You’ve never cared about they way he looked at you before, why now?  You motion to you leg and minho pulls up the thin blanket covering your mangled limb. Both of the two boys take a peek and cringe at the sight of it. Clint, being the closest thing to a doctor, took a closer look at you leg while minho zoned out.

“Minho.. you good?” You ask, immediately getting an agitated answer.

“How could I be okay when your carelessness nearly got you killed. Oh sometimes I swear you do this on purpose but i know your no idiot because I-“

Minho’s eyes caught your tearful gaze and he stopped scolding you. “No I didn’t mean- y/n you now Ii- Clint could we have a moment”

The medic looked relieved to be excused from this awkward situation. He left the two alone in the dimly lit room, giving minho time to form his words.

After a few beats of silence you speak up, “I know you- what?”

You prompted in a mildly aggressive tone. When he refused to speak up you repeated yourself with a harsher attitude. “I know you-“

“You know i care for you! Right…?” Minho said cautiously. Now you were the on who couldn’t speak. Your lack of words made him more self conscious. He was fighting tears, which shocked you. He never gave of that kind of fragility before. “I care for you, a-lot. And seeing you push yourself so hard all the time to find a answer to this shucking maze is killing me. Its killing me because i love you, and im not sure you feel the same. And its okay of you don’t but-“

He was cut off by your lips meeting his. When the initial shock wore off  and you pulled away his hand cupped your cheek and reeled you back in. This kiss was tender and warm. He treated you like an artist would worship his final creation, which was a breath of fresh air in comparison to the harsh conditions the maze forced upon you. On all of the gladers..

“Am I… interrupting something?” Clint interrupted in a cheeky tone. Minho pulls away with a smile tugging at his lips, the happiest hes been since he beat Gally during the bonfire two months ago. 

“Yes Clint, your timing is impeccable-“

Clint snickered, “If I’m not mistaken, you have a maze to run around.”

“And you have a patient to take care of” Minho adds with a glance down at you, “take care of her shuckface.”

Before Minho leaves,  the room he turns and flashes you a wink. The giddy boy left and Clint gave you a look. 

“So…… are we gonna talk about that?” 

With nothing but Minho on your mind and a smile on your face you turn away from the door as Minho is gone now. 

“Nope.”

I am trying soooo hard not to be annoyed with american leftists. like we get it, you are ideologically perfect and won’t compromise with anyone or take any action or donate your time or money to any material cause—but at least you post the Exact Right Things and hate everyone!! Phew!

Hotter Than Texas | Part I

(unofficially: Brother's Worst Enemy)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Alrighty y'all, this is for everyone who has so patiently waited for me to make this a thing XD Not sure if I could squeeze a whole series out of this one but we shall see. Maybe at least a part 2. Enjoy!

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

The mission is simple. Collect Seresin Junior from the train station near the main gate of the base and deliver said cargo to the Seresin homestead in Eastern Texas on his way to Atlanta, Georgia for a long overdue visit with his grandparents. It isn’t rocket science. It sure as hell doesn’t hold a candle to the canyon run he pulled off just the other month. And yet, Bradley’s drumming his fingers anxiously on the hood of his Bronco as he leans into its frame, waiting on the trolley from downtown San Diego.

While Jake and Bradley have recently made peace after their longstanding cold war, Bradley isn’t exactly thrilled to meet another one of his kind. Besides, he isn’t one for small talk, and the prospect of spending the next two days with a complete stranger is downright daunting. He prefers music to conversation and he’s hoping that his road trip companion won’t be offended when he turns up the radio and forgets there’s anybody else in the car.

When Hangman had asked for the favor, he assured Bradley that he was his last choice – which wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Bradley appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. By the end of the term, there was nobody from their squadron left on base except Bradley, and he would be heading east anyway, might as well provide shuttle service while he’s at it.

As the trolley whistles into the station, Bradley pushes off his car and straightens his back, watching the tinted windows as they zip by, a blur at first and then gradually separating as the trolley comes to a stop.

Bradley leaves his car to walk around the fence, not quite sure how he’s going to be greeting a person he’s never before seen, but it’s not like he’s going to fashion a sign for the occasion. He sticks his hands into his pockets, the breeze picking up his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt like a parachute before it starts whipping around his torso in the wind tunnel on the platform.

He glances around at the commuters stepping off the trolley, trying to pick out the blondes that might resemble his colleague, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns his head, just as you say, “Rooster, right?”

He blinks at you, slightly disoriented. You look nothing like Hangman, thank fuck, because Bradley can’t take his eyes off you and, as inappropriate as this reaction is, it would make it that much worse if you did. He gives you a sideways grin. “What gave me away?” he says.

“My brother told me to find the dorkiest guy at the station,” you respond, grinning at him.

Bradley chuckles. “So, you’re walking to Texas, then,” he says, stepping around you.

You laugh, struggling to redirect the wheels of your suitcase.

Bradley bends down to grab the handle. “I can take that,” he says, tucking away the retractable bar and lifting it off the ground by the strap.

“Thanks,” you say, cringing slightly as Bradley lifts the luggage as though you’re embarrassed by its weight.

But after the countless exercise drills over the years, Bradley hardly notices that it’s heavy. In fact, he could probably carry it over his head. He eyes you inconspicuously as you fall in step with him, wondering if perhaps that might impress you – not that he wants to impress you.

“Actually, he said I couldn’t miss you because you’d be a head taller than everyone else, and probably wearing a very bright shirt.”

Bradley looks over at you with a grin. “Hopefully I didn’t disappoint?”

You eye his shirt flapping in the breeze. “I found you, didn’t I?”

Bradley lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car and walks around to open your door for you.

You give him a suspicious look. “Thanks,” you say.

Bradley nods at you, offering a hand to help you in. Once you’re seated, he shuts the door behind you and exhales unsteadily the kind of sigh that often accompanies a guilty conscience. There’s no way he could possibly get entangled in a mess of this magnitude. And a colossal mess it would become if he were to develop any sort of soft spot for his recent enemy’s baby sister. Bradley, being a sensible, mature adult, understands this unequivocally. But, when he rounds the car and climbs into the driver’s seat next to you, the notion that he’s not allowed under any circumstances to find you attractive flies right out his rolled down window.

This is because you’re already tuning the radio like you own the place and because you smell like a goddess. Bradley has no clue whether it’s your hair or your perfume or your goddamn essence that’s permeated his upholstery in under ten seconds, but whatever it is, he certainly wouldn’t mind smelling it on his sheets in the morning.

Fuck. He’s fucking fucked.

“This alright?” you ask casually, as if you didn’t just hijack a stranger’s radio.

He cringes at the stereo; he’ll have to work on your taste in music. “Got your seatbelt on?” he asks as he pulls out.

You turn around in your seat and pull on the seatbelt.

Bradley promptly hits the breaks and you lurch forward slightly, the seatbelt in your hand getting stuck on its way out. He looks over at you with an air of seriousness despite the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The seatbelt should be the first thing you do when you enter a vehicle.” Not fiddle with the radio, he adds silently.

You raise your eyebrows at him in amusement. “Okay, dad.”

Bradley nearly shudders at your response. He’s probably a good ten years older than you, so, really, while dad might be stretching it, you’re not too far off. “Keep up that attitude and you’ll be listening to Metallica the whole way home.”

You smirk at him. “I like Metallica, so joke’s on you, bud.”

Bradley starts driving again. “If you like Metallica, then why are we listening to this trash?”

Your jaw drops and you reach for the volume dial to turn up the song. “How dare you?”

Bradley rolls his eyes. Something tells him he’s in for a wild ride.

…

About two hours later, Bradley pulls into a small gas station just past the border into Arizona.

“Want something to eat?” he asks, leaning across the console to pop his glove compartment and pull out his wallet. “Or drink?”

You purse your lips. “I could go for a coffee.”

“How do you like it?” he asks.

“With a pinch of salt.”

Bradley gapes at you. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

You snort. “I’m not joking. You should try it! Cuts the bitterness in half, my friend.”

Bradley cringes. “The bitterness is why I drink it.”

You shake your head and declare wisely, “You’ll see.”

“That you’re a nutcase?” Bradley mutters under his breath as he exits the car. He jogs over to the convenience store, determinedly blocking out the seductive quality of your persuasive tone. You could probably convince him to drink a pint of his own urine if you set your mind to it.

Bradley drums impatiently on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish restocking one of the shelves with chips. While he’s waiting, he glances out to check on you as if you’re a child under his charge. You’ve stepped out of the Bronco to stretch your legs and Bradley doesn’t like the way the two guys in the convertible in behind are eyeing you.

Bradley cranes his neck to check on the clerk’s progress and lets out a stifled sigh. When he looks back outside, he sees that one of the men has approached you and, well, Bradley isn’t about to wait to see what happens next. He drops a bill on the counter and calls out, “Keep the change,” to the clerk before practically slamming his way through the doors with the coffees in his hands.

Why it bothers him that some random dude might want your number is not of consequence. What matters is that Bradley gets rid of this asswipe before you start enjoying his company.

He strides confidently past the man chatting you up and stops right in between you and him, handing you a coffee.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he cautions moodily, not entirely sure how to go about handling a situation in which, objectively speaking, he has no real authority.

You meet his gaze with a small smile. “You don’t say,” you respond with all the sultriness of a blazing, desert sun.

Bradley’s gaze remains unwaveringly on you as he unhooks a pair of Ray-Bans from the neck of his muscle shirt and slides them over his eyes. “Ready to go?” he asks in a level tone, hoping he can avoid what is bound to be an unpleasant interaction with the man still standing behind him.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man speaks up. “Didn’t realize you were with someone, honey.”

Bradley keeps his eyes on yours for several moments longer, trying his best not to show the irritation he feels at the way this rando just called you ‘honey’. Reluctantly, he turns to face him, wondering what in the world he could say that wouldn’t make him sound jealous as fuck.

But before Bradley could speak, you slide casually into his side, leaning on him like it’s the most natural thing. “That’s just fine,” you say to the man. “No harm, no foul.”

Bradley looks down at your head as it nestles into his shoulder and then lifts his arm to let you move in closer. Trying to play it cool, he skims the tips of his fingers across your lower back, which is warm and feels like the perfect place to rest his hand.

Convertible guy promptly departs, and Bradley is left standing in an embrace with the one person on the entire planet for whom he should never catch feelings, at a derelict gas station on the outskirts of arid Yuma, Arizona, and the heat is really starting to get to him. Slowly, you start to peel yourself away and Bradley, sensing your withdrawal, drops his hand and recoils from you like you’ve burnt him.

Did it feel nice pretending you were his girl? Sure did. Is he going to erase it from his memory and never let himself so much as shake your hand again? Absolutely.

Read Part 2

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments probably tomorrow!

@joaquinwhorres

@katiemcrae

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@toomuchfluffs

@wintercap89

@lonelywitchv2

@callsign-jupiter

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@coffeeaddictedmay

@boringusername3

@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@annedub

@jules-1999

@black--lightning

@j-velvet

@xoxabs88xox

@cyanide-cryptid

@callsignvenus

@artemissunn

@gcldtom

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@birdy-bat-writes

@wkndwlff

@chaosmxlcolm

@iminlovewithenchilidadas

@daniibzz

@avis15

@valhallavalkyrie9

@ijustwantedplums

@hal3ynicol3

@avengersfan25

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

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@lilianashomaresparza

@lovingperfectionsblog

@bblpbb

@Elenavampire21

@SometimesAnAlice

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@mattyskies

@desert-fern

@catsandbooksandstuff

@Topguncultleader

@avengers-fixation