hi c: can you do a markhyuck established relationship thingy? like what are their couple habits? how do their dates look like? like just stuff like this you know :D thanks ♡
hello! and aww man, this is so cute! tbh, it wasn’t as long as i thought it would be bc i usually have to give a lot of bg info when it comes to au’s, so this turned into something more like five times markhyuck was cheesy af. the last scene was inspired by this post.
Too spirited. Not
ready. They told me, but did I
I huff out a sigh and plop down on the bench I had been sitting
on before my dog got distracted by something and pulled the leash right through
my fingers. I had been too busy enjoying
the warmth of the sun caressing my skin. The first beautiful day of spring. I
had let my guard down, relaxed into the sun’s warm embrace, and the Little Turd
Lie #1 That two bloggers are fighting each other over OK casting.
No! That is what we adults like to call a discussion. Not every disagreement or difference of opinion is an argument and not every difference of opinion leads to friends becoming enemies. If you feel the need to disown a friend because they don’t agree with you over something as trivial to your life as a casting decision then your argument probably wasn’t all that solid and you’re too damn stubborn to concede.
Lie #2 A certain blogger has been slut shaming a certain pop princes and spends all day discussing said pop princes.
No! That certain blogger did not slut shame the pop princes and is doing everything they can to stay away from that topic. If certain fan girls would stick to their echo chamber circle jerk blogs then the blogger would be able to ignore the topic all together. But instead she has people from both sides sending her anons about it while not blogging on the subject herself. The blogger made the decision to post anons as she sees fit. You don’t get to dictate to her what she can and can’t post OR demand that she not post anons about the pop princess that she receives. If you don’t want her posting the anons then stop sending them to her you psycho’s.
Lie #3 A certain blogger has attacked a husband and wife blog forcing the couple to shut down their blogs.
No! A mysterious anon sent a message to a third party who then passed it on to the husband which mentioned the bloggers name. It is more likely that the anon is trying to start drama with the husband/wife by being cruel or trying to cause drama between the husband/wife and the blogger just for shits and giggles. All I will say on this matter is that the cruel thing said has been an ongoing rumour circulated for over a year and was not started by the blogger being accused. I know this because the first time I saw this particularly nasty thing said after the husband/wife bloggers suffered a personal tragedy the blogger being accused passed on condolences and called the nastiness disgusting and cruel.
Lie #4 A group of bloggers are toxic haters who refuse to accept Taylor as Toms girlfriend because they are secretly a Swifties who are just jealous.
NO!!!! While there are certain bloggers who believe the relationship was PR and another couple of blogs that just hate all over anyone who gets within sniffing distance of Tom the bloggers I am referring to are not in either group. The blogs being referred to in this lie’s only crime was that they were honest and said they were not a fan of Taylors brand or music but wished the couple luck with the relationship. Let me say it loud for the hard of hearing. NOT LIKING YOUR FAVOURITE ARTISTS WORK IS NOT A PERSONAL INSULT. It’s what we adults call a difference in personal taste. You just need to accept that not everyone’s taste will be exactly the same as yours. Get over yourself. Also not agreeing with your theories that Taylor and Tom are in a secret relationship is not being a toxic. It’s Agnosticism. Show us some proof that they are together and we’ll go on with wishing them the best. Random jets, a lack of public outings by one half of the theory, or your personal feelings is not proof so stop bringing that to our blogs. Pictures or it didn’t happen.
warnings: fluff, flustered steve, injuries, explicit details of gore and body regeneration
additional notes: female reader who is a member of the avengers. reader has regenerative healing abilities, like deadpool. the gif has nothing to do with the plot but steve’s “oh shit” face applies here.
It had been an hour since the team left for Kiev, leaving you and Steve behind. Steve had felt he should sit this one out and allow Bucky to prove himself as a potential team leader, while you were nursing day-old injuries. The previous mission had left you with a severed foot, dislocated shoulder, and multiple bullet wounds. Your powers served to quicken the healing process, and so your bullet wounds had all closed up nicely, but your shoulder was still stiff, and since your foot had been lost in the chaos of battle, you were left to regrow it from scratch. Even with your regenerative healing factor, a day of rest was necessary. You had a feeling Steve had stayed behind just to act as your personal nurse—he always looked guilty whenever he saw you hobbling off to the med bay after a mission—and Bucky had merely gone along with his best friend’s excuse.
Not that you were complaining. Granted, you were pretty high on pain medication—your healing factor did nothing to ease the pain of injury, perhaps even increased it—but having Steve at your beck and call was by no means a terrible experience. It was sweet how much he cared for you; you wondered if he gave the others treatment this special.
“Here, Y/N.” A glass of water appeared in front of you, attached to the hand of the man of your dreams. From your spot on the couch, you glanced up lazily at Steve to see him frowning down at you, his brow furrowed with worry. “Need to hydrate for that foot. How’s it look?”
One daughter’s view of the NHS, from her experience of her US-born Father’s death here in the UK.
I don’t usually tear up when I read articles about healthcare* but this is what it’s about. Holistic care, not just targets. Looking after struggling relatives as well as patients. Making sure even those who have led far from ‘blameless’ lives die with dignity and without judgement or denial of care.
This is what we are fighting for. Not more money, not less hours, but this.
It’s getting harder and harder to provide the kind of care we know everyone deserves, and we all fear for the future of safe and empathetic care if the trend continues.
We want to give everyone the best possible care, but we need a system that allows us to do so, not one that brings us to breaking point.
* OK, that’s a lie; I’m an overworked junior doctor, of course I get teary. A lot. Or angry, when I read outright misinformation in the media, which is also pretty frequently.
Because my inner fan girl needs to believe this is exactly how it happened….
Meryl sighed in contentment and snuggled further into Maks’s side as he hailed them a cab on the busy Brooklyn street. What a roller coaster 36 hours they’d had- from the emotional win on Dancing With the Stars, to the red eye to New York, to the scores of interviews they’d given and finally capped off by a beautiful family dinner hosted by Mama C.
Meryl was drained, emotionally and physically. All she wanted to do was sleep for a solid 12 hours and then sit down with Maks and decipher this “thing” that so obviously existed between the two of them. She felt Maks kiss her hair yet again, one of her most favorite things in the whole world, before he took her hand and gently pulled her toward the cab that had pulled to the curb.
“Come on, baby. We gotta go”
Nestled once again in his strong arms, all felt right in the world. No cameras, no one asking if they were dating, getting married and having babies, just… them. Meryl and Maks. The way it was meant to be. “So, everyone wants to know. Are you two dating? Having hot, sweaty, raunchy sex?” Maks whispered quietly in her ear. Jaw dropped, Meryl craned her neck to look him in the eye. “Maks! That’s not funny,” she whispered back to him, conscious of the cab driver just a few feet away. But his cheeky grin and smile lines around his eyes quickly melted her heart. “We like to keep our private lives private. How many times do you think we’ll have to use that line today?” Maks chucked quietly and buried his face in her neck. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll say it 1,000 times today if that’s what you want. We’ll stick to your script.”
It turned serious all of a sudden. “Maks, I’m sorry. I know you’re ready to shout from the rooftops. But I’m… I’m just not ready for the shitstorm that would cause. They wouldn’t just be happy that we were dating. They’d take it so much further than that and I’m just, I don’t want to share you, what we have just yet.”
“Meryl, I told you before, whatever you’re comfortable with is what we’ll go with. I’d do anything, be anything, give you anything you want, baby. That’s how I feel about you.”
Meryl leaned up and kissed his cheek, grateful for whoever had sent her this wonderful man. “We’re becoming masters of dodging questions,” she giggled. “You know no one believes us, right?”
“That’s because I can’t keep my hands off of you. All I can think about is touching you constantly.”
“Maybe you can manage to keep your shirt on today, babe.”
“Hey, I asked!” Maks laughed, defending himself.
“I know. That was the cutest thing ever”
“I wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t comfortable. Everything I have belongs to you.”
Meryl felt her heart race, she was so in love with this man it was crazy. 17 years dancing with Charlie and she’d never felt a fraction of what she’d developed with Maks in just 3 short months. Soulmates, they were soulmates.
The cab reached their destination- the Wendy Williams sound stage. One more day of interviews and they’d be done. She couldn’t fucking wait.
Maks held her hand as she got of the cab and saw Jessica from Glamour magazine running up to them. “Meryl! Meryl! Can I ask you a few questions?” Meryl was proud of what her and Maks had accomplished and happy to talk about it. But these days it was inevitable that she would be asked more questions about their relationship than the entire reason they were being carted to these interviews- dancing.
She answered the few obligatory questions and then, bam, predictably so, Jessica asked, “Switching gears, you and Maks have been bombarded by the “are-they-or-aren’t-they-dating?” questions—from myself included. You have managed to really work around the question, but I know it’s not easy for you.” And suddenly, something inside Meryl snapped. She couldn’t handle it anymore. Just a week, all she wanted was one fucking week to figure out exactly where her and Maks were heading. Inwardly she sighed. “We’re not dating. We have an amazing relationship, an amazing friendship, but beyond that your personal life is your personal life.”
She felt Mask’s hand tighten imperceptibly around her waist, she knew he was surprised she’d just laid it out there like that, but what the hell. Maybe everyone would finally back the hell off a little bit. The rest of the short interview was a blur, she couldn’t recall any of the answers she’d given.
Once finished, Maks guided her into the building where they were quickly whisked off to separate dressing rooms for hair and makeup.
Half an hour later, all made up and ready for the interview. Meryl sat in her dressing room, head in her hands. She couldn’t believe she’d said that, it wasn’t planned, it just had fallen out of her mouth. No, they hadn’t defined their relationship yet, but they’d both determined they wouldn’t lie to the media. But technically, she hadn’t lied. They weren’t dating!
A soft knock at the door brought on a sudden heating of her body. Only one person instantly heated her body like that.
“Come in,” she called softly.
Maks appeared and as always, he simply took her breath away. Closing the door tightly behind him, he stalked over to her and grabbed her gently, pulling her in close to him and kissing her with every ounce of passion stored up in him. Once they broke the kiss, Meryl laid her forehead against her strong chest.
“Babe, Are you ok?”
Meryl sighed and nodded, something she’d done a lot already today. “Yea. I’m ok. Sorry about that. I- I don’t even know where it came from. It just, slipped out.”
Four hard raps on the door brought them both back. “5 minutes to showtime”, a stage hand yelled from the other side of the door.
“Later. We’ll finish this later,” Maks comforted her with a kiss to her forehead and a tight hug before grabbing her hand and walking toward the stage.
Little did she know, shit was about to get worse….
15 minutes later Meryl found herself sighing yet again and from the looks Maks kept giving her, he felt much the same way. She’d been against this appearance from the start, Wendy Williams had quite the reputation among talk show hosts and it wasn’t necessarily a good one. She wished they were back talking with Kelly again.
In her mind, Meryl counted down to the question she knew was coming. Three….. Two…. One…..
“Are you alls smooshing?”
Maks shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I really have no idea what that means, what does that mean?”
Meryl was just as confused. “I know, I have no idea what that means either.”
Wendy pushed on, “Are you having sex? I mean, are you all, are you all boyfriend and girlfriend? Or, lovers or anything?”
What. In. The. Fuck. Was she fucking serious with that question? Geez. The level of uncomfortableness shot up tenfold. Her crossed leg began bouncing as she mentally counted the minutes until this interview would be over. Why couldn’t everyone stay the fuck out of hers and Maks’s business. This was getting fucking ridiculous. The only reason it was mildly amusing was because of the similar conversation they’d just had in the cab. Maks remembered that too if his raised eyes and small smirk had anything to do with it. But that was for their ears only. She was suddenly thankful for the answer she’d give to Glamour just a little while ago. Maybe 2 denials in 1 day would back the press the hell off for a little bit. Time to put a fucking end to this shit.
“Ooh, wow. We are, we’re not dating.” Meryl stuttered, holding her hands together tightly on her lap.
“You’re not dating?” Wendy seemed astonished
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Why yes, she did have a boyfriend sitting a foot away from her, but Meryl couldn’t bring herself to tell an outright lie, no matter how ridiculous this situation was. Looking at Maks she came up with, “I think we, we like to keep the personal lives personal.” Take that, fucking Wendy Williams. Pride shone in Mask’s chocolate brown eyes as he looked at her.
Thankfully, they moved on, to the other popular topic surrounding them, well more specifically him- the People article. Meryl could tell by his tone that he was pissed and counting down the minutes himself, but like the professional he was, he continued to answer Wendy’s questions, although with much less conversation that he was typically giving. Meryl was grateful when she felt Maks’s large hand cover hers in a soothing manner. She broke hers apart and linked their hands together. He squeezed her hand, I love you, his eyes and body language said.
And at last, it was over. They frigidly hugged Wendy and together walked off the stage.
Half an hour later, they were back in the cab. They hadn’t spoken, but they understood each other that way. Maks radiated with tension and unbridled anger, not towards her, but towards the relentless media and the way their relationship was being splayed all over every media channel worldwide. The cab pulled up to his quaint Brooklyn home and Meryl looked up at him confused, “Maks, don’t we have to be at-“ Maks kissed her cheek and held a soft finger up to her lips, quieting her, “We have a little bit. We need to talk.”
Not the words a girl ever wanted to hear, but with Maks, everything was different for Meryl. She trusted him, she respected him, she loved him.
Settled in on the couch with steaming cups of hot chocolate, Maks turned to face her, his hand stroking her leg. “Baby, are you ok? That was fucking messed up back there.”
Meryl sat her coffee cup down and crawled into his lap, his corded arms automatically pulling her in close “I’m ok now. I’m sorry I lied, I know you hate outright lying to the media But I had to do something, it was getting so ridiculous.”
Maks sat his chin on top of her head, “You didn’t lie, baby. Technically, we’re not dating, and we are keeping our personal lives personal.”
Meryl pulled back to look him in the face. “We’re not dating? But I thought you wanted…”she trailed off thinking maybe she’d misinterpreted this whole thing.
“You thought I wanted what- to date you?” Meryl nodded. “Oh honey, we’re so past dating. Dating to me is something casual, uncommitted. We’re not dating, Meryl because I’m so in love with you I can’t see straight. I’ve never been in love before, never knew what it was like to truly love a woman. All of me loves all of you, Meryl.”
Meryl’s heart melted as this big teddy bear of a man bared his soul to her. “I love you too, Maks, so so much. You make me feel things I never thought I could feel or do or be. I never want to live without you, ever. Whatever label we put on our relationship, always remember that.”
Maks kissed her softly on the lips. “I can’t wait to marry you and make big, Russian, ice dancing babies with you.”
Meryl tossed her head back in laughter.
“You laugh, but I’m serious. I’m going to marry you one day, Meryl Davis.”
Meryl kissed him again. “Just so you know in advance, my answer is yes whenever you ask”
She’d never seen Maks smile any brighter and look more handsome than in that moment.
I’ve been called a raging racist, a violent racist, a violent misogynist, and trash, and I’ve been compared to an actual fascist. (Though i’d guess from the writing style that all those posts were probably from the same one or two people.)
So OK, I’m a big boy. I can take it. And some of it isn’t unreasonable. Misogynist? Yes, I’m male and as such I’m privileged and I have been socialized in a sexist society. Racist? Yes, I’ve also grown up in a racist society and I carry that within me as I do sexism.
But racist actions on this tumblr? No. Give me a break. That’s an outright lie.