#i feel like all i ever do on here anymore is vent in the tags and i’m very sorry

[mugwot]

hm

[gaytoddhoward]

i kind of need to be like skinned or put into a meat grinder or something . lol .

[b3ndy]

Man I don't even know why I hyped up secrets of the machine for myself. Forgot they would Obviously only ever use batdr's ink demon which is a Huge trigger for me still.

[hipipi]

.

[sheepston]

Ngl talking about people getting banned & how the staff on fight rising handle bans a lot of the time always makes me anxious cos, way back when, I was the Internet Hub for a bunch of my irl friends whose families couldn’t afford data (aus net was SO BAD and expensive) & they could ONLY play at my house or via my phone & like. I absolutely would not put it past my old abuser* (who knew this) to try and dress up the fact they gave me in-game shit to pay for art commissions as “SEE she’s multi-accounting!!” like. Ough.

The worst part is I can’t even reassure myself that this is an irrational fear cos they have done some NASTY things to people before out of spite and were a chronic liar who frequently sent me faked screenshots to try and isolate me from my friends

[futuremercifulnerd]

...

[delicris]

i'm so tired of not feeling good enough

[chucklechampion]

evening dedicated to The Horrors

[astonmartinii]

girl, so confusing | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem norris!reader

will "norstappen" will work it out on the remix?

note: obvs everything here is hearsay and all a big fat joke i am just venting my frustrations with whatever the fuck lando just said after that race

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR |

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 783,049 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: we don't just let people by because we have a big lead in the championship (that's actually how you end up with a big lead) btw.

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user5: WELCOME BACK OUTWARDLY BITCHY Y/N I'VE MISSED YOU

user6: the atmosphere shifted, my skin has cleared and the birds are singing

user7: i didn't think it would be against her own brother BUT WE'LL TAKE WHAT WE CAN GET

maxverstappen1: can you do all my media for me - you give a lot better sound bites than i ever could

yourusername: all my sound bites would be completely unusable

yourusername: cause if they thought you had a potty mouth oh boy they have another thing coming

danielricciardo: it's true i was around her when she stubbed her toe once, it was like shakespeare but concerning

alexalbon: or that one referee against chelsea, i've never heard so many creative insults

maxverstappen1: okay but my thoughts exactly

yourusername: twitter would cancel me baby

maxverstappen1: everyone wants cunty f1 back until i make contact and you ... open your mouth?

user8: not like all of lando's friends either being in the likes or the comments

user9: bro is fighting for his life in the GC after that press run

user10: i think y/n got all the sass cause lando that was not the diva statement you thought it was

landonorris: before you delete i already sent it to mum

yourusername: i'm not deleting it you big baby you gotta stand on your words bro

landonorris: nuh uh

yourusername: i can feel you pouting YOUR 24 YEARS OLD

landonorris: but i'm still your baby brother

yourusername: not with this PR strategy

landonorris: MAX WAS IN THE WRONG

yourusername: 1. i watched the ten laps before lando i'm not dumb 2. i support his rights and wrongs 3. you still won driver of the day and i thought that's what meant the most to you

user11: oh she gagged him

user12: can we get a rupaul's drag race reading challenge in f1 but it's just y/n reading the drivers PLEASE

charles_leclerc: literally all you have to do is spend 10 minutes with her in the paddock

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,304,599

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: still got my favourite norris on side and that's all that matters

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user13: someone check on lando cause DIVA IS DOWN

user14: diva is dead and buried at this point

user15: they're dancing on diva's grave

landonorris: DO YOU PEOPLE MIND ???

maxverstappen1: who is this random fan in my comments?

landonorris: i'm definitely not a fan of yours after this weekend

maxverstappen1: oh then let me add you to my block list

charles_leclerc: i thought unfollowing each other after a race in austria was our thing max :(

maxverstappen1: yes that's why i'm going to block him not just unfollow

charles_leclerc: oh good 😊

yourusername: and that's why i'm ready to get rid of the name altogether

maxverstappen1: i think you suit verstappen so much more anyway

yourusername: i'm ready when you are

landonorris: really? ENGAGEMENT TALK ON A POST THAT DISSES ME

yourusername: a diss? you don't want your sister to be happy? or am i not your sister anymore since max isn't your friend anymore?

landonorris: IT WAS ONE QUOTE LIKE TEN MINUTES AFTER BEING CRASHED OUT OF THE LEAD

yourusername: * second-place

landonorris: STOP IT

yourusername: don't dish it if you can't take it buddy

user16: not this brocedes era for max and lando

yourusername: @lewishamilton @nicorosberg i am so sorry they're minimising your trauma like this

user17: so real of you

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, maxverstappen1 and 934,098 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & landonorris

yourusername: when you forgot that you invited your boyfriend to stay at the family home before the british grand prix and arranged a big family dinner and the flight back to england and your boyfriend and brother decide to try and kill each other in the race and have now 'ended' their friendship.... relatable!

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user21: the footage... GIVE IT TO ME, SHOW IT TO ME RACHEL

yourusername: most excruiting three hours of my life boys are so dramatic

user22: shock horror mad max and norrif are holding grudges

yourusername: IF i didn't have the patience of a saint i would've gone mad max on their asses and mclaren would've been down a driver

user23: out here threatening the victim and not the aggressor

yourusername: now why would i attack my trophy husband?

landonorris: i didn't make the plane ride awkward HE MADE THE PLANE RIDE AWKWARD

yourusername: we tried to nap but the heat from your death glare kept us up

landonorris: THAT'S NOT MY FAULT

yourusername: it's kind of expressly your fault, you could've taken your anger out on a pillow or a 12 piece wing meal like a normal person

landonorris: max's jet doesn't offer wings

maxverstappen1: get your own jet then

yourusername: @ryanair we have a new customer for you

landonorris: NO I'M SORRY

maxverstappen1: finally

landonorris: just for your jet not having wings, you're still the one in the wrong overall

user24: i fear lando may not see his sister back in the mclaren garage for the rest of the season

user25: i mean she looks better in blue anyway

liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri: can we please move on lando your attitude is stinking up the gaff

landonorris: 1. wtf osc you're meant to be on my side 2. where the fuck did you learn that

oscarpiastri: while you've been sulking in your childhood bedroom i've been taking in the normal norris hospitality

yourusername: he'll get over it he did this all the time when we were younger - he'll come back and join when dinner is finished

landonorris: TELL MAX TO APOLOGISE

yourusername: i guess you don't want any of these profiteroles then ...

maxverstappen1: i'm eating them all lol

landonorris: FINE GOD DAMN

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,674,099 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & yourusername

landonorris: i think i just got gentle parented (brought matching jellycats) into forgiving max

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user28: about fucking time

user29: baby had his first real dose of wheel to wheel racing for a win and wanted to throw away a friendship

user30: good thing his sister never knows when to shut the fuck up and humbled these men cause lord knows without her lando would still be chatting shit in the media

yourusername: someones got to make sure lando doesn't embarrass himself (idk where his PR department went but mclaren need to run me my money)

maxverstappen1: girl, so confusing when you literally forget all about it as soon as we got you the jellycat you wanted

landonorris: i am a little brother first and foremost

yourusername: hard on the little you've been acting like a whole ass five year old

landonorris: have you ever thought that maybe i'm acting out because i miss you now you've moved in with max and wanted matching jellycats so we always have a part of each other??

yourusername: awww really???

maxverstappen1: that's actually kind of cute

maxverstappen1: and a hunk of BULLSHIT

landonorris: FINE I'M PETTY BUT I WANTED TO WIN SUE ME

maxverstappen1: well i also wanted to win so that's not the serve you think it is

yourusername: you only 'forgave' him because you saw that max was playing padel with charles

landonorris: umm yes obviously, i can't let lestappen be a real thing

yourusername: why not that's literally my dream threesome

yourusername: WHAT WHO SAID THAT

yourusername: lando i think your comment section is haunted

charles_leclerc: well i'm ... flattered

landonorris: you can have lestappen you weirdo

maxverstappen1: @charles_leclerc stop being flattered i don't share

yourusername: heheheheh

landonorris: that much is obvious... you couldn't let me win once?

maxverstappen1: no!

yourusername: no!

fin: here's a lil quick one today cause i had some free time! i am working on guilty as sin p4 but i'm so so so busy and i do be going to silverstone on wednesday xx hope you enjoyed !!!

[frickingnerd]

all i ever think about is you

pairing: shoto todoroki x gn!reader

summary: shoto overhears you talk about his crush on him while you're on the phone. he tries to avoid you, but when you cross paths again, things get a little awkward…

tags: roommates to lovers, accidental confession, silly & wholesome fluff, mentions of marriage & kids, reader asking shoto out on a date, very awkward!shoto, lowkey suggestive ending

“we live together! do you know how much i’ll mess things up if he doesn't feel the same?”

those were the words shoto had overheard you say on the phone to your best friend. and no matter how he tried to twist and turn it, there was only one person you could've meant by that: him!

he wasn't even supposed to be home when he had heard you talk to your friend on the phone. and he didn't intend to listen in on your conversation. but after he heard your frustrated sigh, he just wanted to know if everything was alright. he just wanted to quickly hear if there was something he could do to help. and that's when he heard it.

since then, he had locked himself in his room, being as quiet as he could. you hadn't realized yet that he was still home. his class got canceled today and he had only seen it in the morning shortly before he wanted to leave. you probably had heard him get ready and assumed he left. well, he didn't.

you were still talking to your friend on the phone, as shoto sat in silence, those words replaying in his head over and over again.

you were in love with him!

and he had never realized it. you practically had to spell it out for him to start putting together the pieces. why you never brought anyone home. why you always asked him to study together. why you were always there to help him. it suddenly started to make sense!

now that shoto knew how you felt about him, it was time for him to figure out how he felt about you. he had never considered you a romantic option. you were a good friend to him, but could you be more than that?

on the other side of the door, the chatting stopped and shoto figured you must've ended the phone call. instead, he now heard you humming to yourself. he still had some time before he had to leave, but perhaps it would be better to sneak out of the apartment without you noticing him.

he could now barely hear your humming anymore. perhaps you went to your room? either way, this was his chance to leave and pretend he never heard a thing! he grabbed his backpack, pressing down the door knob and was ready to hurry towards the door, when he spotted you across the hall. your eyes met and shoto knew he had messed up.

“shoto… you're still home?”

you laughed nervously as you spotted your roommate. had he been here all this time? and more importantly, did he hear that 20 minutes long vent about how much you were crushing on him? he surely had to, right..?

“yes, i– i was just on my way to leave! classes got canceled for the morning but now i really gotta go!”

he smiled awkwardly, ruffling through his hair. you could feel the tension growing between the two of you with each second you were staring at each other. nobody said a thing, but it became painfully clear to you that shoto was well aware of the things you had said on the phone earlier.

“listen…” you sighed and took a step forward, attempting to close the distance between the two of you. “you probably heard what i said earlier and– i'm really sorry you had to hear that! if i knew you were listening i wouldn't have mentioned our dream wedding or how i want to name our kids and all that…”

shoto's eyes widened as you mentioned marriage and children. it seemed like he had missed that part earlier but now he was very well aware of it. and based on his reaction, you quickly realized that what you had just revealed to him were new information.

“wait, you… you didn't hear that part, right…?”

shoto softly shook his head and you whined quietly.

“this is embarrassing… i– god, please forget that! i should've never said anything…”

for a moment there was silence between the two of you. shoto considered quietly walking towards the door and leaving, while you thought about running into your room and locking yourself inside there for the next few years, hoping shoto had forgotten about this until then. however, shoto was the first one to eventually break the silence.

“i… i'm not really ready for children yet. or marriage”

the tone of red on your cheeks got even darker with each word shoto said. you were quietly cringing at yourself, as shoto took your words from earlier so seriously.

“however… perhaps we could start slow and just– go out and eat something together?”

you immediately looked up at shoto, staring at him surprised. what he just said sounded a lot like a date! after everything you had said, he actually still considered going out with you? he was truly too kind…

“and… you know, maybe we get to the children another time”

[nmakii]

ALL BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY?

— watching your life falling into catastrophe before your eyes. all because of a boy, because of oikawa tooru.

— fem!reader, oikawa lowk just plot device, vent draft 🤨, its me im reader, nonfiction 🤣, reader highk whipped

a/n: dawg… just had liek the WORST day at school tfff my whole lunch table dropped me can’t believe i wasted ingredients on a bitch that cant even return my chinese textbook 😒

oikawa tooru has a lot of fans. even that might be an understatement. but, it’s true nonetheless. even you’ve fallen for that cheeky loser’s spell.

in your defense, there are many things to love about him; how funny he is, how much he cares, how devoted he is, not to even mention his looks.

so, yes, you may have fallen for him. a lot of girls have.

“but it’s different this time. we have the chemistry. if he wasn’t so busy with training, if i’d be able to run into him again and hang out with him, then i’m sure he’d feel the same way.” you tell your friends over lunch. one of them scoffs. “suuuure, keep telling yourself that. i watched that latest game he played in, there were at least 10 other girls who were thinking the same thing.”

“you don’t get it, you just don’t get it! we have so many mutual friends, it’s almost as if we were meant to meet, y’know?” you explain, sounding almost desperate as your heart stirs thinking about him.

and, among the many exploits you did to impress him, you started doing volleyball. “s/o-chann! what are you doing here?” oikawa walks over to you, new kneepads in hand. “oh— hey! just buying some things.” you explain to him, handing the cashier some money as they wrap up your new volleyball. “what about you?”

“ahh, just getting some new gear since mine is getting pretty old… i never knew you did volleyball!” he notices things quickly. “well, yeah… i just have a lot on my plate, so i don’t do it as often anymore.” you tell him. “really noww? well, we should play together, okay?” he offers, a competitive edge in his voice.

oh my god. this is your chance to hang out with him. sure, this was what you were hoping for, but not right now… what if you fail to serve so miserably that he ends up laughing at you? but, again, it’s hanging out with him!

“sure! i’m down to play!” you quickly recover from your anxious thoughts. “erm— while we’re both here, you wanna hang out for a while?” you ask, words falling out of your lips without your own accord. “aww, no can dooo… i’m here with iwa-chan, and he’s gonna get mad at me if i bring a girl back with meee…” he pouts. “next time though! i won’t go easy on you!” he laughs before waving you goodbye.

next time.

that meant he wanted to see you. right?

“ughhh, enough about oikawaaaaa… he’s not even that cute, you’re far too good for him.” your friend frowns. you do talk about him too much, but what’s there not to love? all that could spill from your mouth were words of love for him. she was probably sick of it, your whole class was probably sick of it. so many people knew of your crush on him, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he knew and decided to just ignore it.

you couldn’t help it, you just loved him so much.

but, nothing ever came out of it.

he continued with his life, and you moved on with your’s.

soon enough, all the love in your heart for him was drained from his lack of reciprocation. you couldn’t blame him, he has so many fans, it wouldn’t be fair to pay attention to just one.

but still, even if he never got to be your boyfriend, you still got a best friend.

“agh!! s/o-chan, don’t, i look ugly right nowww!” oikawa whines as he runs away from your phone camera, nimbly maneuvering himself through the convenience store’s thin aisles. “come back ‘kawa!” you catch up to him, pulling on his arm so he couldn’t run away and snapping a blurry photo of his face.

“noo, s/o-chan, don’t post it!!” oikawa shakes his head in distress, trying to grab your phone. “too late!” you laugh, hitting post on your new story, oikawa tagged. oikawa falls on top of your body, trying to grab your phone. “delete!” he demands, trying to reach for the phone you held up in the air while keeping you stuck on the ground.

you laugh at his feeble attempts, politely waving hello to one of your classmates walking into the store. “get up!! you’re so embarrassing, ‘kawa!” you try to push him off.

it was a good day, a really good day.

even without that romantic chemistry, there was definitely something between you two. and, everyone could feel it; the way conversation just flowed so naturally between you two when you were simply being yourselves, it was like breathing after drowning for so long.

it was like laughing for the first time. you’ve never gasped for air so much as you did when you were with him.

just friends now, nothing more. and, that’s okay.

the next day, you’d walked into school, still happy from the fun you had after school yesterday. when you overheard someone’s conversation.

‘you know, s/o from class 3-3 is lowkey… so loud. all she talks about is boys. it’s like she thinks she’s someone special.’ you hear someone snicker.

‘her hair is so bad… it’s like… why would she go out looking like that?’ you hear from the long haired brunette in front of you, turning her head to look at you not so subtly.

‘she thinks she’s so funny… she needs to learn when to shut up…’

where did all this come from?

you frown as you try to get along with your day. it’s still alright though, even if most of the school population is against you, you still have your friends.

“s/o, we took a vote and most of us don’t want to eat lunch with you anymore.” your friend tells you, if you can still even call her your friend. the shock can barely even register before you nod. “oh. alright then.” you take your things to eat on one of the benches at school.

“ah! s/o-chan, what are you doing hereee?” oikawa sees you, staring daggers into the gardens. “huh? oh, i…it’s nothing…” you mumble. “don’t you have your own lunch table? why’re you here all aloneeee?” he asks.

and that’s when it finally sank in.

“i just wanted a change of scenery today, i’m okay.” you assure him, using all your willpower to hide the tears that threaten to fall out. oikawa frowns, feeling as if there’s something else, but decides not to pursue it. “hmm, okayyyy… well, if that’s all, i guess there’s no problem. i’m gonna go eat now then!” oikawa waves goodbye, on his way to iwaizumi’s table.

and when he’s finally gone, is when you finally let all the tears fall. this is such a stupid thing to cry about… being kicked out of a lunch table? there are so many other problems you could cry about…

you go to the bathroom to splash some water on your face, eyes all puffy from crying. when you get back to your classroom, you see two of your friends, or… ex-friends. it’s just for a split second, but they run out the other side of the classroom, trying to avoid you.

what was all this even for? because of being friends with a boy you liked? you never even dated, so what harm was done?

you’re so many things; smart, athletic, quite awfully pretty as well. you have your own interests, hobbies, and likes. why do you have to be reduced to liking oikawa? sure, you did talk about him an awful lot, but never recently.

“why did everything go wrong?

all because i liked a boy?”

[sentientgolfball]

i love soft phantom but how about a scenario of a new ghoul or some other demon species acting predatory towards reader and phantom being all protecting and aggressive!!! 🤭

When I saw this one I knew I had to save it :> consider this Golfball's Halloween special

Tags: nothing too overtly gory, but there's some description of injury, demon Phantom, blood drinking, extremely brief mention of suicide

My requests are open !

Phantom has always been a cheerful ghoul, ever since the day he was summoned. He was always willing to help where it was needed and eager to learn about the strange world of humanity. He was talkative and affectionate, kind and curious. He’s someone you considered a friend with how often he’d swing by to help you where he could. But something has been off lately. 

It started with snide comments and jokes that were a bit too personal. That quickly turned into stealing your things and hiding them where you’d never find them. Bleeding into the shadows just to pop out when you thought you were alone. The worst part was nobody else seemed to notice his change. You tried venting to your friends one night and all you received were confused looks and questions. He only seemed to be treating you like this. You felt crazy. And now here he was sitting on your desk. 

“Come on, is it really that important?” He snatches the paper you were looking over from your hand. His eyes roam over it quickly before a sick grin crosses his face as he tears it up. 

“Phantom what the fuck!” You feel your gut twist at the sight of the contract now in tiny pieces all across the desk. 

His once sickeningly sweet laugh sounds grating to your ears. You look at him only to be met with a horrible Cheshire grin full of fang. 

��What? You said it yourself we couldn’t hang today cause you were busy. Now you’re not busy.” 

You stare incredulously at him, mouth slightly agape “Get out.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Get the fuck out!”

“Aww come on you’ve got nothing to do now.” He purrs 

“No. Now I have more to do! Leave!” 

He shrugs with a chuckle before hopping off your desk and out the door, tail flicking happily as he goes. You dig the heel of your palm into your eyes and let out a frustrated groan. What the hell was up with him? You felt crazy. He’s been like this for weeks. What’s even worse there would be days that he seemed completely normal and you could almost forget how much of a pain in the ass he’s become. He’d flip so often you were beginning to wonder if he needed to go see Omega. You started to loathe seeing him, it was getting exhausting dealing with the whiplash of demeanor. 

A soft knock on the door interrupts your thoughts. Whoever is there waits only a few seconds before slowly opening the creaky door. 

“Hey” a smooth voice calls out “you missed lunch so I thought I’d bring you something small.” 

Your irritation spikes. You actually couldn’t believe him. The audacity of this ghoul. 

“Phantom do you really fucking think a little sandwich is going make me forgive you?” 

You remove your hands from your eyes and glare at him. 

“What?” He asks with genuine confusion, ears drooping. 

You huff and stand, shoving your chair in with a shrill scrape against the floor. You gather the rest of the papers before Phantom has a chance to shred them. You shoulder past him and out the door. You couldn’t be near him anymore. You went to go find somewhere to finish your work without a little demon bothering you. 

You had spent the rest of your day fixing the mess Phantom caused and catching up on what you had to put on pause. You were now alone in your room trying to alleviate the headache that had plagued you for the last few hours. You were laying in bed staring off when you heard a knock at your door. You didn’t answer. You really didn’t care who was on the other side, you didn’t want to deal with it. 

“Please let me in.” A soft whine came as you stayed quiet. 

“Go away Phantom.” 

It was quiet for a long time. You started to settle believing that he actually listened and left you alone. Until you heard a whisper you would’ve missed if it hadn’t been dead quiet. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You rolled over and looked at the door, weighing your options. You had been sick of the way he was acting towards you, but he was your friend. He had been so kind to you much longer than this new asshole side of his. Maybe he was going through something ghoulish that you couldn’t understand? You sigh. If he was coming here to apologize then he at least realized he did something wrong. You’d be willing to forgive if he could mend the tears in your relationship. 

You push yourself out of bed and open the door. You stand in the doorframe eyeing his downtrodden posture. He was slouching, ears drooped and eyes wide with his tail wrapped around his leg. Little pricks of guilt began to soften the anger steaming in your mind. 

“I’m sorry” He squeaks again “for everything.” 

“Phantom” you sigh and cross your arms “I don’t know what’s up with you, but it’s really hurt.” 

“I know, I know I’m sorry I just need to exp—“

“I really don’t want an excuse just…fuck.”

“Please let me make it up to you.” 

You consider him for a moment. You really hated the way he’s been acting, but you had a fondness for the sweet little ghoul you once knew. You wanted to believe he could make it up to you. You wanted to have the Phantom you knew back. Maybe you would regret it. Maybe you would come to realize he’s a demon no matter how soft his smile is. Maybe you were just stupid and naive for thinking it could change. But if he’s willing to apologize, willing to admit how fucked he’s been maybe he deserves a second chance. 

“Okay.” 

His ears perk up. 

“Not tonight. I’m still pissed about the paperwork, but if you haven’t flipped out again overnight then maybe we can work something out.” 

“Yes it’ll be different I promise, no more bad Phantom. I’ll make sure he’s gone.” 

“Goodnight Phantom. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow.”

He stays and watches you close the door before departing. You sigh heavily, shoulder slumping before crawling back into your bed. You were exhausted. Everything’s been so exhausting lately. Though, on the bright side it seemed like your headache finally went away.  

After Phantom’s apology everything seemed to go back to normal. Well almost normal. He refused to leave you alone now. Granted he was always a little clingy, but this was a whole new level. He was always hanging around the same area as you even if he wasn’t directly interacting. You honestly didn’t care at this point, you were just glad he seemed like his sweet self again. He even kept his promise. He had begun getting you small little gifts of crystals and flowers and helping you with your tasks around the Ministry. It was nice. About a week of this passed and you felt good, great even. You wanted to do something with him, show him you’re no longer mad at him. With Samhain right around the corner you both decided on having a gigantic movie marathon.

You were waiting for him in your room, everything needed for the night already set up. You were just waiting for him to get out of rehearsal. A knock at your door startled you. You furrow your brow opening it to see who was there. 

“Phantom?” 

“Hey hey we were let out early. Come on, let's get this party started.” He shoulders past you into your room. 

You shrug it off and close the door behind you. He flops onto your bed as you start the first movie. You offer up the snacks you gathered but he declines scrunching his nose in disgust. You get a weird feeling. You try to ignore it though as the movie begins. You settle next to him on your bed, eating since he won’t. Another sinking feeling creeps in when he doesn’t move closer. He’s always been physically affectionate, but now he stays leaning against the wall with a rigid posture. You try to focus on the movie. 

Your phone buzzes after about thirty minutes into the movie. You check it. A text from Phantom. 

I’m on my way! Copia just let us out….please tell me you remembered my candy 

What…? 

You stare at it. The sinking feeling in your stomach twists. You feel nauseous. You try to sneak a glance at the Phantom sitting next to you. He’s staring right at you with a sick grin. You jump out of the bed away from him. 

“Something wrong?” He asks nonchalantly. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“That’s a stupid question. I’m Phantom, your favorite ghoul.” That Cheshire grin splits his face. 

“No you’re not. You’re not him. Who are—“ 

“Oh ouch guess my time is up. Or no that’s not right. Your time.” 

The thing wearing Phantom’s face stands from the bed, eyes rolling back joints popping sickeningly. You don’t waste another second. You run out of your room determined to make it to the practice room. Find Phantom. Find Papa and the other ghouls. Find anyone before this thing turned you into prey. As you ran you heard its wicked laugh bounce through the halls, the scraping of claws against polished floor. You didn’t dare spare a glance behind you. You needed to get away from it. You turn sharply at the next corner hoping to either lose it or find somewhere to hide until it was safe to run. 

You dipped into an alcove throwing a hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing, praying to whoever was listening that you'd be safe. Your eyes widen as the creature stalks forward. It still wears the appearance of Phantom but there’s something so unsettlingly wrong about it. He looks thin, too thin. Bones clearly visible through skin that was drawn too tight. Its hair was long, greasy like an oil spill. Everytime it moved you could hear its tendons snap and pop. You could see black ichor under its skin where its veins popped on its neck. 

“Where are you?” Its cracked, layered voice sang out as it stalked down the hall. 

Lucky, it passes right by your hiding spot. You wait just a bit longer for safe measure before ducking out. It’s gone. You move at a brisk pace towards where you knew a pack of ghouls was hanging. You end up slowing down after a while. It still hasn’t caught up to you. Maybe it lost you? Or maybe one of the sentry ghouls caught it? Either way, you felt safe enough to slow. It hadn’t appeared and you were almost to the practice rooms. You were so close. 

You were so close. 

You stop dead in your tracks when you feel a thick substance drip onto your face. You swipe it, seeing a black ichor coating your fingers. 

“Hello” that voice laughs. 

You try to run but it’s faster. It grabs you, claws digging deep into your skin. You feel the blood flow before you see it, but when you do see it you’re suddenly snapped into the reality of the situation. You panic. You freeze. You don’t know what to do. All you can think about is the gory demise that surely awaits you. It drags you forwards and you stumble. When you fall to the floor the thing pounces. You stare in horror at its gaping maw, filled with hundreds of needle-thin teeth. Spit dripped from his mouth coating your face as it leaned in. You flinch when it springs forward and it latches onto your arm biting down hard and sucking the blood from the wound. It burns. It feels like fire is coursing through your veins as its saliva infects you. The imposter Phantom rips its teeth from your arm and grins, licking the excess blood from its mouth with a sick tongue. 

“You know…I was not going to hunt you” it’s cracked voice says “you were feeding me so well. I would have taken from you until you ended your own life, but that vermin that horrid guard dog pushed me away. Starved me.” 

It brings its mouth close to your throat, jaw cracking and popping as flesh rips so it can open its mouth wider than should be possible. You make one last attempt to push it away, but the burning all but consumed your mind. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could barely feel. All you could do is watch in paralyzed horror as the beast that wore Phantom’s face prepared to end your life. 

You hear a sharp trill and you close your eyes waiting for the final blow. But it never came. The force of the beast is suddenly knocked off you. You blink your eyes open and you see Phantom. The real Phantom crouched between your broken body and the creature. He growls low in his throat at the thing, tail lashing dangerously. The Phantom you see before you is not one you’ve seen before. It’s definitely him, but something is different. He looks bigger, taller. His horns are long, more sharp. His quintessence pops and cracks haphazardly over his body. His claws look sharper. His eyes are gone, completely black and hollow, swallowed by the void within his very core. His physical form is barely contained as wisps of smoke and stardust curl around him. 

The creature screeches and jumps up, form twisting as it does so. Its joints pop as it grows, thin limbs becoming thinner. It’s leathery skin is stretched so thin you can practically see every ichor filled vein. It still wears Phantom’s face but it looks half melted as it struggles to maintain the appearance. It’s sharp, every ridge and bone visible. It lunges at Phantom. 

He growls and disappears in a puff of smoke before reappearing behind the beast. He rakes his claws down its back, black ichor spilling onto the pristine floors. He warps away again when it turns, landing another blow to its side. He does this again and again, but the beast catches on. The minute he puffs away it spins and catches him when he reappears. It throws Phantom against the wall with horrible force. He lets out a pained wheeze, rolling over trying to gather himself before it’s too late. He’s not fast enough though. The creature sinks its teeth deep into his shoulder and Phantom wails. Its teeth dig in. 

Phantom screams and digs his claws into its head. He sets his jaw and unleashes so much raw quintessence from his body that the hallway is filled with a purple glow. The beast falls limp, sparks jumping from its body. Phantom doesn’t hesitate. He sinks his fangs deep into its throat and pulls and pulls until it’s ripped from its neck. He spits it onto the floor and bends back down, drinking the ichor like blood that pours from the wound of the dead creature. He pulls back when he’s satisfied, swiping his forked tongue over his mouth collecting the remnants. He growls at the body of the beast. 

You scream at the scene, or at least you try to. It comes out more as a whimper as the venom works its way through your system. The moment you do, though, Phantom’s head snaps to your body laying on the floor. Immediately everything about him changes. The quintessence stops rippling over his body, he goes back to his normal size, his form becomes solid again, his eyes return to their normal purple. You see his mouth move but you can’t hear it over the ringing in your ears. You see him run to you before your eyes fall shut. 

When you finally blink open your eyes, you're met with the sterile white of an infirmary room. Everything hurts. You felt slick with sweat and cold. Your head was absolutely pounding as you looked around trying to get your bearings. That’s when you notice a little ball of purple curled up at the foot of your bed. 

“He’s been there all night you know.” 

You whip your head around at the voice before you can stop yourself. You groan feeling like someone took a hammer to the side of your skull. 

“Don’t move so quickly. Your body is still recovering from the venom. You’re lucky I was able to make an antidote.” 

“Thanks Omega.” You wince both from the pain and how that came out a lot more sarcastic than genuine. 

He chuffs “Don’t mention it Sibling, however next time a trickster spirit is within these halls please alert me before another scene is caused.” 

And with that, he walks out. You lay back in the bed and close your eyes against the annoying fluorescent. You replay the night's memories over and over again until you feel a weight shift as Phantom moves from his spot at the foot. A smile ghosts your face as he curls closer to you and mumbles a sleepy “You’re thinking too loud” before he falls back asleep with a purr in his chest. 

[listenheresweaty]

Reminder that Stirringjuice/Ven themself has said that TMC is not fetish content. Kister’s works are NOT an extension of what was described in the allegations document. If you don’t want to consume TMC content anymore, fine (best you don’t— not in a way that gives Kister money anyway), but don’t spread misinformation.

EDIT: after rereading Ven’s callout document and finally being able to access ALL the screenshots he attached, I have decided that I will no longer support him. I will not go back to supporting Alex Kister yet, but I cannot support a blatant ableist transphobe either. link to annotation doc: (not mine) https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vReErDatnpQ_h3W-WlqrmzmPN26-UyDwLVwBKmHV09WhVZtdZQM44HRxvoV0ZTz8Ho-NaBVKYxjNuha/pub

Things I will be addressing:

Why I do not support Ven (separate from other victims)

Stuff that Alex Kister DID do wrong, even if the allegations were exaggerated/faked/done out of malice

The allegations and victims themselves.

WHY I DONT SUPPORT VEN

First of all, this ⬇️ (scroll down its below the blue highlighted ss. Formatting issues sorry.). This is a ss of Ven’s (now deleted, now archived post) response to how many people are calling him transphobic for his transmisogynistic comments in his document, and how he had basically outed Alex. Instead of saying something like “it wasn’t transphobic — I had to out Alex— it was necessary for the victims/proof/whatever”, Ven just says that if Alex didn’t want to be outed or subjected to transphobia, he shouldn’t have been a “groomer” (Ven later says that he had misused the word “groomer”. Everyone that Alex had interacted with in a sexual or romantic manner had been an adult, and had fully explicitly VERBALLY consented.)

However. Even if your opponent is a bad person, you do NOT have the right to be transphobic. EVER. criticize them on whatever they’ve done wrong, hold them accountable in a balanced and civilized manner— etc. Being protected from bigotry/ not getting misgendered, privacy, legal counsel— these are all examples of RIGHTS.

When you start denying something based on whether someone deserves it or not, that “something” has become a privilege. By stating that his transphobia was excused because Alex is a supposedly bad person, Ven has stated that not being subjected to transphobia is a privilege. here’s the link: (takes forever to load the keep reading portion but it works for me) https://web.archive.org/web/20240317125855/https://www.tumblr.com/stirringjuicee/745117180204548096/alex-kister-and-actively-using-being-trans-to-lure

Screenshot of the post below, along with something from the callout doc (annotated by a tumblr user. The non-highlighted color text is the annotated bit.

—— ss from ven response (click. It IS An image it just looks like text)

—- now onto some more details.

Ven, or StirringJuice, made the first allegations document against Alex Kister. He had stated himself that he does not consider himself a victim, just a friend of the victims who wanted to spread the word. Ven starts the document off by describing his past relationship with Alex Kister. He also includes screenshots of text messages from Alex— which often contradict or have no relation with what he’s saying. This is why it’s important to look at the screenshots, guys! Most of the toxicity in Ven’s relationship with Alex stemmed from Ven’s refusal to honestly his boundaries or feelings. He told Alex that he was comfortable with the sexual comments, he told Alex that he was comfortable being just Friends with Benefits, and he told Alex that they were welcome to vent to him any time <- all of this is corroborated by the text screenshots that Ven himself posted.

In Ven’s text messages, we can see him suggesting that Alex gets a therapist. Great! Nothing wrong there. And then you actually look at the ss:

(Ven is the blue. These ss are linked in the callout document.)

First of all. You cannot force ANYONE to get mental help, regardless of whether you think it’s for their own well-being. If their behavior is harming you, leave. But even the worst people on earth deserve autonomy for these kinds of things. Ven literally states that he had FORCED Alex to get a therapist, and you can see him admit it in the messages above as well.

after these ss links (labeled part 9 in the doc), Ven hits us with this absolute banger:

“[Alex] then decided to go off his meds.”

Someone had already said this, but: YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO OR ABOUT A MENTALLY ILL PERSON. EVER. REGARDLESS OF WHO YOU ARE, OR WHO THEY ARE. it’s an insult to every mental health community.

^ also, Alex gives a pretty good reason for going off his medication. Not that they needed to.

^highlighted text is Ven’s callout post. Purple text is a fellow tumblr user’s annotations. They have a whole post with these annotations. I’ll credit them when I’m done writing out my post. [clarification: the annotator uses “she/her” pronouns for Alex, Ven uses he/him. I use they/them because Alex was never publicly OUT as she/her before they were outed, so I’m not sure what to do]

Also: please go on the callout doc and see the “pt. 11” screenshots yourself. There’s a lot of them and I don’t want to add them here, but please go see them.

^Ven hears that Alex wants to start a new chapter with them (yknow, like redeem the toxic relationship they’ve had) and immediately assumes it’s in the romantic sense.

^Alex admits that they are not ready for a committed relationship, a good first step for smoothing over any toxicity.

^nothing else to add. Annotator did great.

^ text ss as listed under the “pt. 14” link

These are 3 out of 10 ss under the Pt. 15 link. Look at the text indicated to with the red arrow (drawn by me). Ven literally tells Alex that they “don’t understand anything ever.” They also tell Alex in a later ss (plz find it yourselves because I’m not posting all 10 photos) that they “don’t understand [their] own emotions.”

Maybe Alex was making an unhealthy decision by continuing to reach out to someone they clearly had an unhealthy relationship with. But these responses are borderline abusive, especially when aimed at someone who suffers from paranoia.

A huge chunk of the entire callout doc is Ven venting about his relationship with Alex. This relationship is not abusive, it is toxic on both sides. The fact that Ven put this much focus on these barely relevant details— even when the topic was the victims, not Ven himself— suggests that he did this out of petty vindictiveness. If the allegations are true, the victims deserved a BETTER PERSON and a BETTER FRIEND to share their story. Not someone who did it purely because it was en excuse to get revenge. If it wasn’t revenge, why add all these details?? (funny thing— the whole doc. Would be more believable if Ven hadn’t added all this stuff. He destroyed his credibility before even getting to the allegations).

the one below has more transphobia and general assholery than ableism.

^apparently once you are out of the closet, you are not allowed to go back or feel ashamed. Else you are lying and manipulative. Thanks, Ven.

I am done posting screenshots from the annotation document. Please, PLEASE read it in full. I will tag it in the comments. There are so so so many good points.

STUFF THAT ALEX HAS DEFINITELY DONE WRONG, REGARDLESS OF WHETHER THE ALLEGATIONS ARE TRUE OR FALSE:

(Orange text is annotator, black is original doc).

Venting to/ Relying on a minor fan for mental health support (I think it was Mitchie). That’s not good.

making allusions to suicide during their relationship with Ven. Joke or not, that’s unhealthy.

ALLEGATIONS/VICTIMS:

wont say much here because I’m getting tired. some people on Reddit have been pointing out that some discord ss (not the ones I’ve shown you, those were imessage ss) look faked because there is use of military time, which is not an option on discord apparently. Other screenshots seem to use different fonts as well, further indicating forged evidence. I have fact-checked none of this and can’t verify it (not that you should be relying on my word alone, anyway).

I do not support Mitchie, since they’ve been telling people to self-harm and/or commit suicide when they point out flaws in the callout doc. I don’t care what you’ve been through. There is no excuse for that.

As for the other victims.. I find their statements fishy. However, I will not disbelieve them until more has been cleared up.

[bamboozledbird]

HOWLING: TST Rewrite // Prev. / Chapter 2 / Next

Characters: Thomas, fem!reader, Newt, Teresa Agnes (bg), Minho (bg), Aris (bg) Pairing(s): Thomas x Reader (the slowest of burns as is my brand) Word Count: 3.4k Tags: Mix of book and movie canon, newt!sister!reader Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, sad times are ahead my friends

A/N: V fun new game, drink every time you see a trope. Also thank you for the nice comments and messages tbh inspired me to keep going because I don't see a lot of Thomas content out there in the Tumblr great beyond. Taglist: @m30wk1ttycat, @mxltifxnd0m

You stay far away from Newt now that you know. It feels wrong, unnatural. You can’t eat or sleep—constantly fighting every single one of your instincts makes you feel sick, like your organs are rejecting your body in protest—but it’s necessary. It’s only a matter of time before he disappears, or you disappear, or cranks break through the compound walls and drag you all to an early grave. 

You can’t remember losing Newt the first time; you don’t want to ever have to.

Newt notices. He watches you from afar with a furious little divot in his brow and his lip between his teeth, but he doesn’t press. He’s busy, after all. You don’t know what Newt’s friends are planning, but you can see the itching under Thomas’s skin. The constant tapping, the darting eyes. He never rests in one place for long. It’s conspicuous amongst the complacent. Not many people see this place for what it truly is, but Thomas does. 

So do you. 

As naïve as you find them, you can’t blame the others. Hope is an addictive thing. After so many years of nothing, a glimpse of happiness is so incredibly tempting. Who’s to say what’s better anyway: waiting to die in numb anticipation or being blissfully unaware. It all ends the same.

Thomas doesn’t fit into either category. It seems to be a trend for him, you’re gathering, along with his friends following his lead. You’re both impressed and irritated by the way people get caught up in his current. It’s like they can’t fight it, like he’s a black hole of a person. The more you watch him, however, the more you realize that isn’t quite right. Thomas doesn’t steal light; he burns with it. The realization leaves a bittersweet film on your tongue, and you do your best not to look at him anymore.

You force yourself to be content this way: alone, numb, head buried in your pillow and denial. You ignore them all and suffocate on the cold, hard truth: You don’t know your own brother, and you never will—and then he spills out of a vent and into your room. 

The vent creaks under Newt’s weight. It’s a small sound, but it’s so loud in the silence of night. You reach for your fork before you recognize his mop of downy hair and wide eyes.

“Christ, Newt,” the strength of your relief sends you reeling back onto your cot, “thought you were a crank.”

“In the air shaft?” You see the flash of Newt’s grin, white teeth gleaming in the dark. You can also see the tension creased in corners of his mouth.

You push yourself onto your elbow and hum, “Seems like exactly the kind of place a crank would lurk.”

He snorts, “Fair enough.”

Your eyes finally adjust to the dark, and you can see Thomas now. Aris pokes his head out of the vent behind him. You’re struck dumb for a moment. The past and the present clashing together in the dark of your temporary prison makes your head hurt.

You swing your legs over the side of your bed, scrubbing your knuckles over your eyelids. “Aris?”

Aris gives you a little smile. It’s more emotion than you’ve seen from him since you arrived at the facility.

Newt wraps his spindly fingers around your ankle and tugs your foot into a sturdy boot. “Com'n, bug, we’re getting out of here.” 

You’re frozen as he ties the laces into neat bows with shaking hands. The endearment wrenches you into another world, dragging you heart-first into a muddled memory with a white-knuckled grip. Your cracked lips part, and you can only think of one word at a time, “Out?”

“Yeah, as in not in here,” Thomas finally speaks from the shadows. He’s on edge, like always, but tonight you can almost see the feverish energy radiating through his skin. He crouches down and nods towards the vent, “Let’s go.”

“Into the Scorch?” You scoff and shake your head, “You’re insane.”

Newt grins: a little frantic, a lot familiar. He holds his hand out for you to take and says, “Only slightly.” 

You stare at his palm for a long moment, and then a loud groan rattles through your chest. You wrap your fingers around Newt’s and glower at him, “When we all end up dying a horrific death, I’ll never let you live it down.”

Newt pulls you to your feet and laughs. You aren’t sure if he’s more amused by the scrunch of your nose or Thomas’s surly huff. You’d like to think it’s the latter. “Try to think positively,” Newt chirps. He’s quieter than normal, so that the sound doesn’t echo off the vent’s aluminum walls, and you finally realize that this is real. You’re on a covert mission to escape WCKD and venture into the unknown—and Newt wants you to think positively. 

You scoff. The Scorch. A barren desert. Crawling with cranks. What a positive venue to vacation in. Your shoulder twitches with a piddling shrug, “At least we’ll probably die quickly.”

The boy with spiky hair—free of blood this time—snickers behind you, “That’s the spirit.”

You grin and then immediately scowl when Thomas shushes everyone. No one disobeys him, not even you, and that just makes you scowl harder. Your mouth strains with the effort, but you keep it closed and imagine all the things you could say to make Thomas hit his head against the low ceiling.

Newt guides you through the tight corridor, taking great effort to keep your head and injured thumb away from the sharp corners and steely walls. It’s all a bit of a blur from there.

The Maze, as horrific as it was, at least prepared you for running away from the guards and dodging the hail of taser shells sparking over your head. The shots are blinding, bright lightning-flashes that shatter glass and heat your skin with frenzied static. You almost stop, lost in the glare sticking to your eyelids, but Newt doesn’t let you.

Newt drags you behind him and doesn’t let go of your hand, not even when the guards close in on your ragtag group of panicked children. Newt pulls you behind him, firm against his back, and you can’t see anything over his lofty frame. He squeezes your hand, and it occurs to you with startling clarity that he would take a bullet for you. The thought sits heavily in your stomach like a rotten peach pit; you choke on it while you wait for the end.

When the final door won’t open, you think that you’re going to die before you even see the Scorch, but Thomas surprises you again. 

He gets you out. All of you. Alive.

For how long, you aren’t sure. 

Outside the compound, the world is big—empty of anything good and filled with imminent peril. The wind is fittingly sinister. It howls like a caged dog that’s been kicked one too many times, but the chilling echoes can’t drown out the shrieking in the distance. The tortured cries frost your blood and nip at your skin. They’re coming from the lost souls just beyond the dunes, and you know that they’re out there somewhere, prowling in the shadows of an unwelcoming indigo night. Barely human. Begging for death. 

It’s a place you aren’t supposed to be, a night that banishes you—but you have no choice but to run into the thick of it. 

Thomas is fast—faster than you, you note with a bitter bite—even on sand. Everyone struggles to keep up with him, especially Newt. He has a limp. How could you forget that he has a limp? Guilt burns your throat as badly as the sand in your eyes; you can’t shake it, no matter how hard you try. 

The wind kicks up the further you venture into the Scorch. The gusts turn almost silver with the grains caught in their path. Lightning strikes the ground, too close for comfort, and the dusty haze lights with electricity. The glow looks toxic, like a suffocating smog—a cancerous ray trying to eat away at your flesh. It's a strange thing to be grateful for, but the shroud of sand gives you just enough time for Newt’s hand to slip back into yours. 

A collapsing building is another strange thing to be grateful for, but the decomposing shopping center hides you from the searchlights and the storm outside. As you look around at the crumbling walls and shattered windows, you wonder what’s worse: WCKD’s soldiers or a horde of cranks. 

For a moment, the only sound in the remnants of a world long-gone is heavy breathing. There are a few coughs here and there, lungs trying to expel all the inhaled sand, and then silence. Thomas barely gives the group a moment to catch their breath, and then he’s urging everyone forward. Panicked. Breathless. This time, you think it’s justified. 

The girl they arrived with stops Thomas, demanding an explanation that you probably should’ve wondered about before now. It was so simple for you at the time. Newt held out his hand, and you took it. You’d follow him anywhere, you realize, just to make sure he was okay. 

You aren’t really surprised by Thomas’s revelation or his complete and utter lack of a plan. Maybe you should be, but stringing kids up and bleeding them dry seems exactly like the kind of thing WCKD would do in the pursuit of a cure that doesn’t exist. At least, you finally know where all those kids disappeared to, even though the knowledge doesn’t actually provide you any relief. 

“C’mon, let’s find you some warmer clothes,” Newt’s voice is soft so that he doesn’t startle you, but you jump anyway, “you’re more goose-pimple than girl.” 

Your mouth dries as you look at him, and all you can see is a bullet ripping through his chest, frying his bleeding heart with 3,000 volts of lethal electricity—all because someone aimed a gun in your direction.

“I can look by myself. We should split up…cover more ground.” You pull your hand out of his and step back, stumbling over a rotted plank of wood. Large hands wrap around your waist, righting you before you can fall to the floor and break another bone. 

Newt squints at you and eventually lets out a little sigh, “At least take Tommy with you. What good would you be with two bum hands.” 

You tip your chin up and see the sharp line of Thomas’s jaw. He doesn’t look down at you. If you had to hedge your bets, you’d say he’s glaring at Newt. You scowl at the ground and mutter, “I don’t think—”

Thomas interrupts you, “Newt’s right. No one should go anywhere alone.” He lets go of your sides, and the chill left in their absence tingles through your hips to your toes. Thomas doesn’t move from his spot, just slants his head to stare at you until your shoulders sink and you turn to follow him. 

Neither of you speak for a long time. You poke around empty rooms, examining the belongings of a society you’ve only heard stories about. It would be fascinating if you weren't aware that they belonged to the dead and the damned. Thomas wanders towards a string of broken lights, and you walk towards a pile of water jugs coated in a thick layer of grime and dirt. 

Thomas breaks the silence, “You can’t avoid him forever.”

You frown at an empty water bottle, “I'm not.” 

Infuriatingly, Thomas doesn’t look at you. He traces the wiring of a lamp with lithe fingers and says, “I understand why you want to.”

You stand up and brush the debris off of your sweatpants, rolling your eyes, “Oh, you do, do you?”

Thomas doesn’t move for a moment, and then he curls and uncurls his fingers, “You think it’s easier.” You watch the muscles in his back ripple as he rolls out an invisible ache in his shoulders. “It might be.”

Your lips purse. You’ve never liked being seen, especially by someone you don’t know. How dare he, you think, how dare he see past the scowls and stone. You kick at a small piece of rubble and fold your arms over your chest, “You’re a great comfort, Thomas.” 

“He would say it’s worth it if he knew.” Thomas turns around and mirrors your position. You aren’t sure if he’s mocking you, but when he crosses his arms you can see the shape of his biceps through his thin jacket. Your eyes jerk to his face when he starts talking again, “It might not even matter. He cares, not just about you—he cares about people. You can’t do anything to change that.”

“I…I can’t—”

A loud clanging in the background interrupts your reply. You hear one of the boys curse under their breaths, and Thomas’s gaze follows the sound. His eyes get stuck on a glimpse of the girl—Teresa, you remind yourself. You can just barely make out her dark curls through a broken window and a collapsing archway. 

“You care about her.” You chew on your lip and look at Thomas through your lashes, “Aren’t you scared?”

He looks down at you, and his throat bobs with his swallow. “All the time,” Thomas’s voice is a soft wind, a gentle breeze that almost gets lost in the empty corridors, “but scared is better than nothing.”

You wonder if he’s ever admitted that before—that even the great Saint Thomas is afraid sometimes. It feels like a secret. He whispers it into the small space between you like it's something he wants you to keep. For some reason, you intend to. 

“What about grief?” you whisper, because the room is calling for softness, and shiver. “Is grief better than nothing?” 

Thomas’s dark eyes trail over your face, “I haven’t decided yet.”

You both step back at the same time, too raw and too exposed to stay in the light for another second. 

You drift towards a large pile of clothes and brush your fingers over it. It’s a disorienting mix of scratchy denim and soft cotton, all riddled with dust and moth holes. You stop when you feel something fuzzy. Thankfully, it isn’t a dead animal—or even worse a live, rabid animal—it’s a stuffed bear. You clutch the teddy bear close to your chest and inhale deeply. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe something sweet like baby powder or something musty like spilled juice, but it just smells like…nothing. Just dust and earth, not even a note of something human. 

Your heart gets stuck in your throat as you blink rapidly, fighting the ache in your eyes. Thomas rests his hand on your shoulder and bows his head a little to look at you. His face is more worried than questioning, and it softens your resentment. 

Swallowing hard, you fiddle with the teddy bear’s fraying bowtie, “It’s just…it’s so…little, and…they wouldn’t leave this behind.” Unless. You both know what comes after unless. 

Thomas gently pulls the bear from your hands and sets it on top of the pile; he does it all so gently it makes you ache. He takes your empty hand and nods towards the string lights, “Think you can help me find out where these wires lead to?”

You nod, grateful for a task, and wipe the dust and damning wetness from your face with the back of your good hand. Thomas pauses and glances at your other hand, frowning at the swelling, “They didn’t splint that?” 

The corner of your mouth tugs into a dry smirk, despite the constant ache of your shifting thumb, “Blood bags don’t need bones.”

You expect a smile, but Thomas’s mouth is an unmoving, severe line. He looks around the wreckage until he finds a dirty sneaker, ripped at the toes. Your brows furrow until he pulls the laces from it and holds out his hand, “Can I?”

You hesitate and then nod, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Thomas is heartbreakingly gentle. His lamblike touch startles you—you didn’t know until now that a warrior could be so delicate. It still hurts when he wraps the laces around your thumb and palm, but his tenderness distracts you from most of it. It’s the strangeness of it, you think. It's disorienting how confoundingly tender he is with the thumb that gave him his black eye. 

Thomas finishes the make-shift splint with a tight knot, and his attention shifts to your face, “Feel okay?” 

You nod again and gnaw on a sore spot in your cheek, “Why are you being so nice to me?” You look towards his bruised eye and then look down at your shoes, digging your toes into the concrete. “I kind of punched you in the face, in case you forgot.”

The corner of Thomas’s mouth twitches, “Didn’t forget. You’ve got a pretty unforgettable right hook.”

You stare at your shoe-lace splint and murmur, “I’m sorry.” You’re a little surprised when you realize just how much you mean it. 

“I had it coming.” Thomas shrugs and rubs his palms over his biceps, “I don’t feel like him…I don’t even know him—but that guy, the one who sent you into the Maze, he’s still me. We have the same face.”

Pausing, your voice becomes little more than a breath, “I knew him...I don’t know you.” You tentatively reach up and brush your thumb just below the bruises mottled under his eye. 

His eye has gotten worse since you last saw him. The welt is darker now, more plum skin than pink flesh, and it’s seeped around his entire eye socket, pooling in the shadows of his face. Frowning, you brush your fingertip lightly over his cheekbone; it doesn’t alleviate much of your guilt. It all feels a little like a red wine stain you can’t scrub clean. 

Thomas freezes for a moment, and your heart lurches into your ribs. He probably doesn’t get a lot of skin-to-skin contact, you realize, and you have to strangle the thought before it swells into something painful. Thomas slowly relaxes and turns his face into your hand slightly, “Do you want to?”

You lick your bottom lip, and a slow nod rolls up your neck to your head, “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.” 

His smile is a timid little thing, and you want to keep it in your pocket for the dark days ahead. 

“You two need another minute? Perhaps a room.”

Your chin whips towards Newt, and your face burns. Thomas grumbles something decidedly unfriendly under his breath as he bumps Newt’s shoulder on his way towards the wall of dials and switches. 

You can feel Newt’s gaze on you, and you ignore the warmth creeping up your ears. “Shut up.”

Newt holds up his hands and grins, “I didn’t say anything!”

You’re just pouty enough to forget you’re supposed to be avoiding him, “You’re going to regret teasing me when I become a crank chew toy.”

“Please don’t croak just to spite me,” Newt throws his arm over your shoulder and squeezes you to his side, “I’d be awfully upset about it.”

You remember again. You can almost picture Newt’s face if you told him what you know, but it's the image of Newt's face watching you die that truly haunts you. You slip out from under his arm and mumble unconvincingly, “I’m gonna see if Thomas needs help.”

The smirk on Newt’s face tells you that he’s severely misinterpreted your intentions, but that’s okay. It’s better if he doesn’t know—even if the alternative is utterly humiliating. 

You crouch down next to Thomas, and he gives you a small smile that’s drenched in melancholy. There's some understanding in there too, but you try to ignore it.

“We’ll get out of this," Thomas says softly as he fiddles with the generator's cobwebbed dials. He catches your eye and doesn’t look away, “I’m going to get us all out of this, and then there won’t be anything to be afraid of. I promise.”

“Well,” your smile wobbles, “there’ll still be spiders.” 

Thomas smiles back at you, soft and little, “I’ll squish ‘em.”

Your lips twitch, “And snakes.”

Thomas’s nose wrinkles, “Can’t help you there.”

It surprises a laugh out of you, and Thomas smiles again. It’s the first time you’ve seen him truly smile, and the stretch of his mouth lights up his face, even in the gloom of darkness and desolation. You’re blinded by him for a moment. Somehow, he outshines the lights that wash the building in a golden haze when he flips the generator’s final switch.

No one is smiling, however, when the screaming starts.

[unique-high]

this is how you fall in love | Intro

Mingi x fem! tomboy blk reader.

no warning tags.

More about Mingi's ff.

Go here for CHAPER ONE

The sun was shining brightly, but raindrops were falling from the sky. You're in Mingi's bed. He felt nice with his warm skin against yours. Your fingertips softly drag down his bare back. Mingi snored loudly and oddly you find it to be soothing.

There was no romantic involvement between you and Mingi. But with how your bodies are in close proximity, with his arm and leg draped over you; It was evident that there was a connection between you both, despite ignoring the truth.

Mingi’s presence in your life was like a warm summer’s day and he was like cold rain. The boy you hated now became the boy you wanted. And for Mingi, it was the same.

The hate could have been something else that you were too afraid to explore any deeper.

And for Mingi, it wasn’t even hate anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was hate, to begin with.

 It was love. 

And being a teenager in love wasn’t like how it’s depicted in some movies. It’s messy and confusing; when you’re torn between your heart and what you’re feeling.

 Mingi vents to his best friends about how stupid love is. But you were the definition of that stupid love. When he was alone, all his thoughts were about you and every sappy love song, he heard was about you too. 

You breathe in his scent. He smelt of sweat and the outdoors. Mingi had played soccer earlier in the day and didn’t have time to shower when you showed up at his house crying because you and your dad had gotten into an argument. Comforting you was more important than a shower for Mingi. Besides, he thought he would take one after you calmed down, but you two ended up in his bed.

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

A/N: So I started off with an intro chapter because the first chapter I wrote was ass and I deleted it. Regrets thoooo. 🙂

I don't have a set schedule of when I'll update. But I'm hoping I can every Sunday. 🤔

BTW I do take requests if you all ever want to request anything anime or Kpop or just whatever with blk reader. (No smut, sorry)

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Hi Shae,

This situation's shitty. I'm not gonna talk about it, I just wanted to kinda check in I guess? Ask if you're okay.

And also, send some kind words to you. Stars know we all need some kindness in this time. I love your writing, I love the stories you write, I love seeing you in the comment section of stories I read. Your enthusiasm is contagious and makes me grin! The way you write the characters, with their voices and vibes, is fantastic.

I hope you're doing all right.

(note: I'm tagging this ask and any potential future asks that refer to the Wilbur situation with 'support shelby or die by my sword', so people who want to avoid vent-y and triggering content can blacklist)

You, Anon, are one of the sweetest people ever.

I'm doing okay, all things considered. In an odd way, I'm lucky in that I detached from the CC side of things pretty firmly after Techno's passing and only really stick around for the characters. Still, I've cried. I feel sad and angry and betrayed and hurt, I feel for the victims, and I feel disgusted that somebody who I genuinely thought was a chill and kind and funny person could do something like that.

In a more selfish way, I feel grief. I think this definitely triggered some soft spots left behind by losing Techno. Wilbur is very entwined with a lot of Techno content, SBI as a whole is. And while I'm here for the fictional fandom/character stuff first and foremost, I did like cc!twinduo and cc!sbi as dynamics. So many of my comfort vids that still bring me joy and make me feel close to Techno have Wilbur in them (4/4 content, old mcc vlogs, etc). Now, that all feels stained. I haven't tried rewatching any of it, I don't know if I can. If I do, I'm afraid they won't give me joy anymore. It's like losing another bit of the pieces left behind by Techno and that hurts.

Also, the fading of a community. The Techno/SBI community already very much shrunk after his passing, but I know a lot of fanfic and fanart will be deleted, and a lot of artists/authors might discontinue to make content, which are absolutely valid choices but it does mean loss and loss is always painful, even if it's an understandable and necessary loss.

I'll be fine though. I know there are a lot of people WAY more affected by this than me (thinking about people who were more invested in cc!Wilbur than I ever was, not to mention Wilbur's actual group of friends and such). I'll be alright, I'll pull myself up by my bootstraps and keep trucking.

Thank you for the kind words about my writing too. I hope that my future fics, if you still choose to read them, can continue to bring you that enthusiasm and joy too. And if for you (or anybody else reading this), this means you're saying goodbye to my fic or to the techno/sbi/dsmp community as a whole, I hope you enjoyed your stay. And thank you for everything.