#i found that the tag i searched was being flooded with harassing messages

[marbles-for-breakfast]

Please don’t use a single facet of your abusive ex’s identity to justify hating an entire group of people. I understand the urge, but it’s not helpful.

Not all endos form out of choice. I’d hazard that most don’t, though I certainly don’t have the numbers to back that up. Endogenic was specifically created for people who don’t believe their systems formed through trauma, with many believing they were “born this way”.

I currently sort of identify as endo, but that’s actually only because I don’t know whether my system formed from trauma or not, and assuming it had formed from trauma (before knew about endos) actually caused me a lot of problems. Maybe someday I’ll find out about some trauma and change my mind (I’m quite newly discovered, though I’ve been questioning for at least a year), but I don’t have any memory of trauma that would have caused this, so I’m not going to assume that was the reason.

I didn’t become plural by choice. In fact, I didn’t choose this any more than you did. I just know that I am this way, and you and people like you not believing me doesn’t change the fact that I constantly feel dissociated and my year+ of research has resulted in me being now extremely confident that I would fit the criteria for OSDD-1b.

“Clawing at any sense of identity” describes my life as well. We experience many of the same things you and other traumagenic systems do. I understand how you might come to hate us if most of what you hear about us are the half-truths and straight-up lies that anti-endos constantly spout. I would hate us too.

And I think there are some genuinely important conversations that need to happen, but they need to happen amongst people who believe each other when they say who they are and what their own lived experiences are. It needs to happen amongst people who understand that the theory of structural dissociation was never posited as the only possible cause for plurality, nor has it actually been proven to be accurate (since that’s not really something you can prove). We need to meet each other somewhere, and I truly think it’s the people who think we’re “just role playing” who need to come forward first. The other people in my body are real, and it’s quite distressing when you insist we aren’t.

We’re really not all that different. Many, many endos also have trauma. Some even have alters that split due to trauma (mixed origins). I fully support traumagenic systems having their own spaces, but we might have to organize that kind of thing together for it to be effective. And for that you need to respect us. And I say you because all the endos I know fully respect traumagenic systems (with the possible exception of the ones who harass us or dedicate their entire blog to claiming our headmates don’t exist).

You’re right that it’s not fun or quirky to be plural. It’s everything. I can’t obviously say for sure, but I would hope you’re not always miserable. (If you are, I’m truly sorry about that) The systems who say it can be fun mean that it CAN be fun SOMETIMES. Sometimes it is miserable. But I think believing that being a system is just horrible 100% of the time is really depressing and unhelpful for everyone. Being plural isn’t inherently negative, imo. It’s neutral. Just like being autistic isn’t inherently negative. It’s just how you are. And yeah, it makes things harder a lot of the time, but unless you’re going through a rough patch, most of the time it just is.

Anyway, feel free to take or leave parts of this. Like I said, I’m relatively new to this and the worst stuff I’ve experienced so far (other than the stuff caused by thinking I must have secret childhood trauma) is keeping it a secret. Actually, I guess you’re technically the first person I’ve told. I really wish people didn’t hate us so much for what sometimes feels like no reason (I know you have reasons, obviously, but I only just got here and it seems like everywhere I go to try and find other people I can talk to about this I’m not welcome just because I haven’t decided I’m horribly traumatized with no evidence)

So stop assuming we’re the worst people alive because of all the strawmans people make about us. We’re so much more similar than you think. And flooding the plural tag with posts like this only makes it harder for us to find and talk to people who understand us which was all I wanted when I searched that up for the first time a few days ago. I got this instead. I think the only thing we all want is some fucking compassion. Targeting us with harassing messages like this isn’t helping. We’re all angry. We’re all frustrated. We all feel misunderstood. Let’s try to fix that.

As someone who dated an endo "system" who used us and tried to force us to split alters of his interests because he wanted to fuck them, you all suck.

I don't care st this point, you don't give enough of a fuck to do your research and understand how fucking hard it is to cope with actually being a system.

We did not spend years of our life clawing at any sense of identity until our medical recognition just for you lowlife scumbags to claim you just formed a system because you wanted to.

Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I hope you get help, I hope you get over your delusions and accept the fact that you'll never have this horrible disorder because you should be glad that you don't.

It's not fun or quirky, it's miserable and you are the scum of the earth. You and anyone that supports you wholeheartedly.

[eu-nicola]

Strong Love - Enzo Vogrincic x Reader

summary: Enzo makes a bold decision to save his relationship after rumors of infidelity spread. warnings: without

from a request

You have been in London recording a film for a month now. You initially planned to travel with your boyfriend, Enzo. However, unforeseen circumstances kept him back in his home country, managing interviews for his new film and other commitments. Soon, your name flooded social media, not for your movie but due to a particular photo everyone was tagging you in.

It was Enzo with his ex-girlfriend, Sofia, seemingly happy and together on the streets at night. The moment you saw it, confusion and pain set in. You wanted to believe it was a mistake, but the evidence was there. Unable to gather the strength to confront him in person, you sent him a text message, desperately seeking an explanation.

On the other side, Enzo anxiously stared at his phone, feeling the tension building up as he contemplated your message. "I saw the photos, Enzo, and I need you to explain what's going on," your message read. The realization of the photo's error struck Enzo, and he feared you wouldn't believe him.

As you noticed his delayed response, you tried to focus on your work on the film set. A mix of emotions overwhelmed you, from surprise to anguish. The images of Enzo and Sofia haunted your thoughts, creating a knot of insecurity and sadness. While attempting to concentrate, you awaited the answers Enzo was willing to provide.

Enzo, understanding the gravity of the situation, desperately sought to explain. When you finally checked your phone, you saw his rushed messages justifying the encounter. Amidst the filming chaos, you struggled to concentrate and process the flood of notifications that made you feel powerless and hurt.

"Love, you need to know it wasn't what it seemed. I ran into Sofia on the street by chance, and we only talked for a moment. There were no hidden intentions, I promise."

"Sofia is part of the past; you are my present and future. I made a mistake not anticipating how it could affect you, and I take full responsibility. I am willing to do whatever it takes to fix this because you are the most important thing to me."

"I know the photos may seem compromising, but I'm being honest with you. It was an unexpected coincidence. I'm sorry; I love you."

You loved him, and you knew he was being honest, but it didn't ease the pain, especially considering Sofia's past harassment when you first started dating.

"Enzo, the photos are hard to ignore, but I appreciate your honesty. I need time to process it all. I'm hurt, but I want to believe in you. We need to talk when I return." There were still a few months left until your return, but if he was truly willing to fix things, you hoped he would understand and wait.

Enzo, feeling overwhelmed by the distance and the anxiety of waiting, made a bold decision after days of reflection. He decided he couldn't wait months to resolve things and was determined to fight for you.

Within a few days, without saying a word, Enzo arranged a flight to London. Landing in the bustling city, his heart pounded with nervousness about your unexpected reaction.

That same afternoon, a few hours before you finished filming, he appeared on the set, searching for you everywhere, asking everyone where you were, and the consistent response was, "in her dressing room." When he finally found your dressing room and knocked on the door, you opened it, thinking it would be anyone but him. Seeing him, you were completely surprised.

"Enzo, what are you doing here?" you asked, a mix of disbelief and excitement.

"I'm sorry; I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to see you, talk to you face to face. Explanations and apologies aren't enough through messages," he replied, determination in his eyes.

You were moved by the fact that he flew there just to see you, a mix of emotions overwhelmed you. He continued, "I made a mistake; I shouldn't have talked to her, and I'm willing to face the consequences. But I'm also willing to fight for us, to show with actions that this is what I want most in my life, that I love you."

After hours of conversation and shared tears, you forgave Enzo because you truly loved him and saw that each of his words was sincere. During that time, he stayed with you, and despite the rumors, you paid them no attention. Every day, you both seemed more in love than ever, and everyone noticed.

After some time, you returned home, and the return flight felt different; you were better, and you liked that. You didn't know how things would unfold, but something inside you told you that everything would be okay.

[storiesforallfandoms]

secrets ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2467

request?: yes

“Colson & reader are dating in secret & one day at a party, she sees him dancing with a few girls. She approaches them & asks Colson what time he wants them to head home & he acts like he doesn’t know her and basically treats her like a groupie. She storms off & he immediately feels guilty, chasing her but by the time he gets out the door she’s gone. She turns her phone off for the night & when she turns it back in the next morning, she sees that Colson has announced their relationship publicly!”

description: in which he takes pretending not to be dating her too far and risks their relationship

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst

masterlist

I never had a problem with keeping mine and Colson’s relationship a secret. I understood the concerns he had with how his fans would react and what kind of messages I might start receiving from them. I had seen the harassing messages his fans had sent his rumored girlfriends, I couldn’t imagine how they’d react when they got a confirmation that he really was in a relationship.

However, I did have a problem with groupies still trying to flirt with him due to them know knowing that he was taken.

Even though we weren’t public about our relationship, Colson still took me to parties or to clubs with him, we just acted more friendly than romantic in public. Going to these parties and the clubs gave me a front row seat to see how girls reacted when he was around. It was always some girl wearing a dress so short and so low cut that she may as well be wearing nothing at all, wearing dark makeup and bright red lipstick to bring everyone’s attention to her lips, and she’d already be half shitfaced and ready to fuck the first thing that moved, in this case Colson, mainly because he was famous.

Most of the time, Colson would turn them down, no matter how hard they pleaded with him. He’d always say he wasn’t into random hookups, which everyone thought was untrue since he had been all about hookups in the early years of his career, but sometimes it was enough to get the girls off of him.

That is, until Dom’s party.

Dom, aka Yungblud, decided to throw a party just because. There was no reasoning for it, he just wanted to get his friends together and have a good time. Colson went, of course because he and Dom were best friends, and invited me to go with him, which I did. Shortly after we arrived at the party, I lost track of Colson. I wasn’t too concerned, I trusted him to not do anything stupid. However, being at a party where the only people I knew were the host and my boyfriend made me a little awkward, so I wished he were still by my side.

“(Y/N)!” I heard a familiar British accent exclaim and I almost sighed with relief when I saw Dom’s smiling face come into view.

He pushed through the crowd of people in front of him and came to stand next to me, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “Hello love, you enjoying yourself?”

“Enjoying myself enough,” I responded with a shrug. “I lost Colson so I’m a little awkward.”

“Oh! I saw him not too long ago,” Dom said. He pointed in the direction of the large crowd ahead of us. “He was over there somewhere talking to someone.”

“Very helpful Dom,” I teased. “But thanks, I’ll try looking for him again.”

“If you can’t find him, I’ll be around to keep you company.”

I smiled and thanked him again before going on another search for Colson. I awkwardly pushed my way through the crowd of people, apologizing when anyone shot me a dirty look, in an attempt to find him. When I finally came to another clearing, I found Colson, but was horrified to see that he wasn’t alone. He was dancing with two girls, and by dancing I mean they were so close to basically just dry humping.

I wasn’t sure what to do or what to say. I wasn’t sure if it was just supposed to be harmless dancing and the girls were getting too close, or if they had been close the whole time. All I knew was that I was not enjoying what I was seeing, and I was certainly not going to let it keep happening.

I approached the group and called Colson’s name over the music. At first, he didn’t respond. I thought it was because he couldn’t hear me, so I called again, which drew the attention of the girls he was talking to, but not him.

“Um, Kells,” one said, “I think this...girl wants to speak to you.”

They both looked at me with so much disdain, as if I was the dirt they walked on. In that moment, I wished I could just melt into the floor and stop existing.

Colson turned to look at me, but for a moment it looked as though he didn’t recognize me. I pulled my attention away from the girls and tried to sound confident. “I’m...I’m not feeling the best. Can you take me home?”

The girls turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. I could see they were prepared to walk away from him at the prospect of him being there with another girl, which made me appreciate them just a little more.

But when Colson responded, I felt my heart drop to my stomach.

“Do I know you?”

Both girls looked at me with glares, easily believing that I was some random girl that was trying to go home with Colson, which is exactly what they were.

“You’re not funny,” I told him. “I’m serious, I’m not feeling great. If you’ve had a few to drink I can drive us, I just want to go home.”

“Listen honey, I don’t go home with just anyone,” Colson responded. “I’m not into groupies. Go try with someone else, I heard the host of the party is pretty famous too.”

I felt my heart shatter as the girls around him laughed. I felt a lump forming in my throat, but quickly turned before any of them could see me cry. I pushed through the crowd again, this time less apologetically, until I found the front door. The minute I opened it, the brisk night air hit me, and I began to cry. I sat down on the front steps and sobbed by myself.

How could he do this to me? We had been together for nearly two years, he had always seemed so committed to our relationship and he always treated me like a queen. Was all of that an act? Was he just trying to get something out of the normal girl that he met one day nearly two years ago?

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?”

I looked up to see Dom at the door, looking down at me with concern. I didn’t want to relive what had just happened, so I meekly asked him, “Can you call me a taxi? I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

He didn’t question why I had asked him to call a taxi instead of getting Colson. He just nodded and went back into the house. I stood and began to walk down his driveway until I got to the end to wait for the cab. Part of me wanted to go back inside and give Colson a piece of my mind, or to text him and tell him we were over, but the other part of me wasn’t ready to give up this relationship, even if it was officially hard to trust him.

Not too long after, a cab pulled up in front of Dom’s house. Before getting in, I looked over my shoulder at the house where my boyfriend was undoubtedly still grinding up against two bimbos and acting as though I didn’t exist. I sighed, trying to contain more tears from falling, before getting into the cab.

We were a short distance from my apartment when my phone began to ring. I looked down to see Colson’s name and picture lighting up my phone. I ignored the call and shoved my phone under my leg. Seconds later, it began to ring again. Yet again, it was Colson.

I repeated the process of ignoring his calls about four times before I stopped receiving the calls, but then he started to text me.

“(Y/N)? where are you? Dom says you asked him to call you a cab”

“please answer my calls baby”

“i’m so sorry. what i did was wrong. i have no explanation other than i’m a complete idiot”

“i’m sorry”

“please let me know you’re okay”

“i love you”

After some time, I had to turn my phone off. Reading his messages sickened me. He didn’t care about me, he didn’t love me, he wasn’t sorry. He was sorry he got caught. It all made sense now why he didn’t want to be public with our relationship, he wanted to hook up with groupies when I wasn’t around.

“Someone’s popular,” the taxi driver commented as I shut off my phone.

I shook my head. “It’s just one very persistent person.”

“Whoever it is must really want to get in touch with you.”

I shoved my phone in my pocket and looked up at my driver through the mirror. “Yeah, but I don’t want to get in touch with him.”

~~~~~~

Surprisingly, it wasn’t hard to sleep that night. I figured I’d be up all night crying, or being angry, or both. I thought I’d cave and turn on my phone again to respond to Colson, but to combat that I left my phone in a cupboard in the kitchen so I couldn’t easily access it.

Luckily, it didn’t take too long for me to get to sleep once I returned home. I put my head down on my pillow and in seconds flat I was out like a light. It was a better sleep than I was expecting, but I still woke up feeling exhausted, emotionally.

Instinctively, I reached for my bedside table to grab my phone. I was confused to find it wasn’t there before remembering I had left it in the kitchen. I groaned, not wanting to get out of bed, but finally managed to pull myself up long enough to trudge to the kitchen for my phone and return to bed.

Upon turning it on, I found I had more notifications than I would’ve ever expected. Some of them were texts from Colson, still apologizing and trying to reach me, some were texts from Dom asking if I was okay and saying that if I needed him to give him a call. But a majority of the notifications were from Twitter and Instagram, and they were all from accounts that I didn’t recognize, but they all had one thing in common; they were Machine Gun Kelly fan accounts.

I was confused on why I was being flooded with notifications until I saw one from Instagram saying that Colson had tagged me in a post. When I opened the app, I came to find that he has posted multiple pictures of the two of us that he had on his phone, along with a long caption.

“I have something that I have to admit to you all. I’m sorry I’ve kept this a secret for so long, but the secrets have resulted in me hurting someone I love very much, and I want to make this right somehow. Everyone, meet (Y/N), she’s my girlfriend and has been for the past almost two years. She’s not famous, which is part of the reason I wanted to keep her a secret. The last thing I wanted was for her life to change so drastically because she’s dating me. I don’t want her to be hounded by fans or paparazzi while she’s trying to live her day to day life, but we both know that’s one of the risks of dating a celebrity. The other reason I didn’t want to come out about this publicly is because I was afraid of the messages she’d receive from my fans. I’m not completely ignorant to the messages that my female friends have received after dating rumors have started, and I knew that these messages would intensify when I actually confirmed that (Y/N) and I are dating, but I also know that that is something neither one of us can stop. I am asking anyone reading this, that if you are my real fan, please do not send harassing messages to (Y/N). I love her, and because of that you should too. Anyone who does send messages will be blocked by both of us. I won’t go into details about how I hurt her, but I will say that I did something incredibly stupid and broke her heart. This is my attempt at an apology, and I hope that, if she reads it, she will accept it. (Y/N), if you’re reading this, I’m so sorry. I love you more than anything in this world and that will never change. I hope you can forgive me for what I did.”

My eyes were filling with tears yet again. As I went to scroll and read the comments, I accidentally liked the post. Near seconds later, my phone began to ring, Colson’s picture filling my screen. This time, I answered.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N), baby, I’m so sorry,” he said immediately. “I was a complete idiot, I’m so sorry for what I did."

“I know you’re sorry,” I told him. “But I just...I have to know why you did it. Why did you pretend I was a groupie in front of those girls?”

“I have no explanation other than I was drunk,” he responded. “Which I know isn’t a good explanation, but it’s the truth. I was drinking a little too much a little too fast, and these girls approached me and asked me to dance, so I said yes, with no intentions of it being more than an innocent dance. But then I started to feel more drunk, and they started to get closer to me, and I just...I just wanted to dance with these pretty girls. I was so drunk, I could barley fathom that you were the one that came asking to go home. I didn’t realize until Dom came over and told me that he had called a cab for you, and by then you were already gone. I fucked up royally, (Y/N), can you forgive me?”

I sighed. “I can forgive you, but I hope you know you have to build back up my trust in you. You can’t just post a super sappy Instagram post announcing our relationship and apologize and everything goes back to normal.”

“I know that. I just wanted you to know how much you mean to me, and how sorry I am for everything.”

“Stop saying sorry, it doesn’t sound like a word anymore,” I teased. “I’m still in bed, do you wanna come over for snuggles?”

“More than anything. I’ll pick up some breakfast on the way over.”

I smiled. “Now you’re speaking my language Baker.”

I heard him chuckle and couldn’t help but laugh as well. “I’ll see you soon baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[mulletcal]

self care night -- a calum hood blurb.

a/n: i got this request for a self care night where fans are being mean to the reader and calum helps take their mind off of it! sorry this is so short i was stuck kinda writing this

word count: 842

----

You had been doing well keeping your relationship with Calum a secret - no one outside of your trusted friend group or family knew about it.  All of your socials were now private, something you genuinely never thought you would have to do.  In the end though it made your mental health feel better knowing that people couldn’t see you and judge you.

It couldn’t stay a secret forever, though, and you knew that.  You had been fairly conscious being around the house when Calum was on a livestream, but today he had asked you to bring him tea, and who were you to say no? You thought the way you handed the mug to him you were out of the frame, but judging by the way Calum’s Twitter had blown up almost immediately you hadn’t done as well as you had thought.

He had tweeted something earlier in the day, and after that moment his mentions were flooded with questions of who did the hand belong to, because it didn’t look like Roy’s hand - how they knew that was beyond your realm of caring.  But the fandom, being filled with search talents that could rival the FBI were able to find you in no time; and since your socials were private, they began to harass friends of yours who didn’t think they’d need to do the same.

Pictures of you were on their profiles, and that was something that never occured to you when you were being overly cautious.  Immediately, people were attacking your looks, your motives, and your character.  You wished you could stop reading the hurtful words they were saying, but on top of everything else, the message requests didn’t stop coming in too.  It was too much, all too much, and you found yourself on the floor in front of the couch - having tried to paint your nails to distract yourself from what was going on; but it didn’t take long for the tears to flow. 

That’s how Calum found you nearly an hour later, sobbing into the blanket so he wouldn’t hear your cries - you didn’t want sympathy from him, because it wasn’t his fault.  The feeling of his arms around you eased your pain at first, but the panic crept back up into your throat because you knew that if you weren’t in the picture he wouldn’t have to deal with this.

“Baby, hey, look at me,” Calum whispered, “Where’s your phone?”

It had been placed behind you, a feudal attempt at encouraging yourself not to look at it. You motioned behind you, and Calum reached over to grab your phone, going in to delete all the apps on your phone where people could reach you, before turning your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’.

“What’re you doin’?” You hiccuped, tucking yourself into his side gently, being greeted by his soft hum of content.

“Deleted your apps, you don’t need to see that shit.  I’m gonna tweet something out, and then we’re gonna finish your nails and have a self care night, hm?”

“Cal, you don’t have to tweet-”

“No, I do.  Because people need to learn boundaries, and realize this shit isn’t okay.” He pouted, pressing his lips to your forehead, turning his attention to his phone.

‘Never did I think I’d need to write something to remind you all that not only my significant other, but the other guys too, are real people.  Words have power, and everyone should be more conscious of how they treat others.’

It was simple, to the point.  He could have said more, gone on a rant if he wanted to, but he knew that would do no good.  Right now his focus needed to be on the person in front of him.  Seeing you so distraught and sobbing, it broke his heart and he wanted nothing more to be able to kiss away the tears and make you feel better.

The rest of the night was spent painting your nails, and putting on your favourite movie.  At one point you asked Calum if he would let you paint his nails, and he couldn’t see a reason to say no.

So there the two of you were, laughing at The Neighbors  playing on the TV, your favourite long over and a bottle of bright blue nailpolish between the two of you.

“You know I love you right?” You said softly, finishing the coat on his last nail before turning your gaze up to him - it was a little difficult not to laugh at the cracked light green mask that was over his features.

Calum smiled in response, nodding, “Yes.  I love you too, you know that.  No one’s opinion is gonna change that.  They don’t know you like I do.” He leaned in, lips puckered for a kiss which you met gratefully.

You couldn’t help but to wonder how you got so lucky with this man, or wonder what you did to deserve him - but you also knew that you would never go without knowing how much he cared about you.

tag list:  @haikucal @talkfastromance4 @softbabiestan @boyfriend-cal @calum-uncrowned @wildflowerirwin @irwindoll @gosh-im-short @atlcalm @thesubtweeter @heavenisapeach @ridingcthood @loveroflrh @wokeupinjapanisabop @mantlereid @inlovehoodx @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga​

[justauthoring]

Running, Freedom, Salvation (12/19)

Prompt: “Run, run, run. That’s all we ever do. All we’ve ever done.” You paused, feeling the wind brush through your hair. Taking a deep breath, steadied yourself and met his eyes. “Do you think it’ll finally stop?”

Maze Runner: one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

Scorch Trials: one - two - three - four - five - six

Death Cure: one - two - three - four - five

I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Author’s Notes: Just for anyone who doesn’t know, or hadn’t read the books. Stephen is Thomas’s actual name, the name he was given by his parents.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Based off of: 10-15 minutes of Scorch Trials after the second part.

Tag List: @blackbrokerosey - @some-fantasy-thoughts - @ilovemymoose - @alienadvocate - @itsfangirlmendes - @thatproffessionalfangirl - @nightingalethewriter - @143amberrose - @joycewrites - @floweryukheii - @hey-margot - @hippieballs - @wearegoldeninthenight - @betcoop - @crystalshines2909 - @darthweasley7 - @desired-love- - @honeymoonavenue - @legit-fandom-trash - @musicandbeat - @thespeedofwind - @sellinxhs - @sumlariss - @togetherlikepeanutbutterandjelly - @sarcasmdunbar - @strangerthingsluv - @mythicalamphitrite - @thisishowieroll - @independentgirl​ - @heathernsweets​ - @illumminated Wanna be TAGGED? Message me letting me know! italics means those Tumblr won’t let me tag.

-

“Come on. Keep up.”

You found that her voice drifted to the back of your mind, your focus and attention completely captured by the building you found yourself in. You knew it’d been larger, given the size and length of it, but being inside, able to see everything for yourself was a different experience. 

The area was filled with people, lights and chattering. You can’t ever remember seeing such a sight.

“Jorge wants to meet you.”

You glanced back at Newt, who stood beside you, raising a single brow in question. Though, you didn’t say anything and silently followed the girl you’d met only minutes prior up the stairs, to where you could only imagine, Jorge, resided in.

When you reached the top of the stairs, Thomas, who was right behind the girl, asked; “who’s Jorge?”

The girl glanced back at Thomas briefly, before setting her sights before herself once again. “You’ll see,” she said simply, never pausing in her step. “No one’s come out of the Scorch in a long time. You’ve just got him curious.” Once again, she glanced back at the group of you, and the line you’d all been spread out in, grouped together at the front. “And, me too.”

Your brows furrowed when you felt a presence behind you, and turning, you pursed your lips in disgust when you saw the group of people that had crowded behind you. Most of it was filled with men, and you shivered at the lecherous smile one of them gave you, finding yourself suddenly very uncomfortable. 

Looking to your left, you gained both Newt’s and Fry’s attention, frowning deeply.

Newt mimicked your reaction. “Anyone else starting to get a bad feeling about this place?” He questioned, raising a brow. Silently, you agreed.

“Let’s just hear him out,” Thomas said, turning back to glance at Newt, “see what he has to say.”

You didn’t completely trust place, and with the way these people were staring at you, everything within you was screaming for you to get out. But, you trusted Thomas, so you said nothing. You only shook your head at Newt, who frowned in response, placing a hand against your lower back as he pushed you in front of him slightly.

And, with that, you continued to follow the girl, no further questions asked, as she led you up another set of stairs. At the top was another room, decorated almost like an office, and in the middle sat a man. A man you assumed must be Jorge.

You were correct when Brenda called out; “Jorge, they’re here.”

“Quiet,” Jorge hushed, never turning around to face you as you all continued to make your way further into the room. You remained by Newt’s side, feeling better sticking close to everyone then spreading out. “Damnit,” Jorge cursed, ripping out a wire from whatever he was messing with. Then, with a huff, he turned, setting his hands on his hips. “Do you ever get the feeling the whole world’s against you?”

You couldn’t help but glance around yourself, thinking; “yeah, i’d say i’ve been feeling that pretty much since I woke up in the damn box”. But, you kept your mouth shut, sharing a look with Newt and Minho.

“Three questions,” Jorge continued, stepping forward. “Where did you come from? Where are you going? How can I profit?”

A echo of silence passed around the group of you.

“Don’t all answer at once.”

“We’re headed for the mountains.” Thomas finally answered, nodding to himself. “Looking for the Right Arm.”

You furrowed your brows when those around you laughed, and Jorge’s lips curved into a smile. “You’re looking for ghosts, you mean.” He said, before taking a drink of water. You felt your brows furrow in confusion and doubt, what exactly did that mean? “Question number two. Where did you come from?”

Thomas and Minho glanced at each other, and you bit your lip. If WICKED was searching for you, and from what you’ve seen, they’re not a small corporation. You gathered that Minho and Thomas were thinking the same thing as you - best not tell this man, Jorge, or anyone else, exactly where you come from. Not when your lives are at stake.

“That’s our business,” Minho answered shortly.

For a moment, Jorge didn’t say or do anything. Then, he tilted his head just a bit and two men from either side of you rushed forward, grabbing onto Thomas and Minho. You lunged forward to help them, but in the next second, one of the men had grabbed ahold of you, pulling your arms behind you and restricting you. Men and women did the same to everyone else, holding your friends back while they harassed Thomas.

Thomas was pushed to his knees, as the same girl from before came stepping forward, some sort of machine in her hand. 

“Get off me!” Thomas bellowed, struggling in the man’s grip. “Get the hell off me, man!”

“Shut up, you big baby.” The girl laughed, grabbing the top of Thomas’s head and pushing it forward. Taking the machine, she pressed it against the nape of his neck, a red light blaring on Thomas’s skin as it scanned. Your eyes widened when you noticed something appeared, something that couldn’t be seen without that red light.

“What is that?” Thomas huffed.

Slowly, those holding you back and the rest let you go. You shoved the man away, glaring at him as you panted, fixing your shirt.

“You were right,” the girl said, glancing down at the machine she held in her hand. Passing it over to Jorge, who quickly slipped on a pair of glasses, you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Right about what?” Thomas questioned, “what is she talking about?”

Laughing, Jorge looked back over at Thomas. “I’m sorry, hermano,” he sighed. And for some reason, his words didn’t settle right within you. Instantly, you knew something was going to go wrong. “Looks like you’re tagged. You came from WICKED.”

And just like that, you felt your heart plummet, a bout of anxiousness flood through you.

“Which means...” Jorge continued, “you’re very valuable.”

-

“Good plan, Thomas. ‘Just hear what the man has to say’. Really working out for us.”

“Shut up, Minho.” 

Huffing, you glanced around yourself the best you could, trying to ignore the feeling of blood rushing to your head. Even though Minho’s sarcasm was a little too much at times, you couldn’t help but agree with him. Thomas’s plan was the reason why you found yourself hanging upside down over a drop that would surely kill you.

“Maybe I can reach the rope,” Thomas mumbled, trying to lean up. With grunts of struggles, he tried to grab the rope connected to his feet, ultimately what was keeping him in the air and not falling to his death.

“Enjoying the view,” a new voice said. 

Turning your head, you frowned when you saw Jorge step forward, a deep hatred burning in your gut for the man.

“What the hell do you want?” Thomas spat.

Stepping in front of Thomas, Jorge smirked. “That is the question. My men want to sell you back to WICKED. Life has taught them to think small. I’m not like that. Something tells me that you’re not either.”

“Is the blood rushing to my head or is this shank not making any sense?” Minho snarked, and you couldn’t help but scoff slightly.

“No,” you sighed, “he’s definitely not making any sense.” Then, you raised a brow, “then again, the blood could be rushing to my head, too.”

You glared right back at Jorge when he stepped over to you, sending both you and Minho a dark look. It didn’t last long, and in the next second, he was turning back to Thomas. “Tell me what you know about the Right Arm.”

“I thought you said they were ghosts,” Newt spat.

“I happen to believe in ghosts. Especially, when I hear them chattering on the airwaves.” 

You felt your heart rate increase, watching as Jorge stepped over to the machine that was connected to the rope tied around your feet. Threateningly, he set his hand on the lever, ready to push it at any point. “You tell me what you know, and maybe we can make a deal.”

“We don’t know much,” Thomas breathed, shaking his head.

You watched Jorge’s hand, preparing yourself for the moment, but when it came, a yelp of surprise still left your lips. You shot down, falling for what felt like ever, but was only seconds. 

“Okay! Okay, all right.” Thomas panicked, shaking his hands at Jorge. “They’re hiding in the mountains. And they attacked WICKED. They got out a bunch of kids. That’s it. That’s all we know.”

A breath relief left you when you saw Jorge step away from the lever. You felt hope flood you that maybe he’d believed Thomas, and his words were true. That you could strike a deal with him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a new voice interrupted him; “hey, Jorge.”

One of the men from before, the man that had given you the creeps when you’d first saw him, stepped into the room. “What’s going on?”

“Me and my new friends were just getting acquainted. We’re done now.”

You furrowed your brows, baffled. There was something else going on here. You’d thought it was weird how suddenly Jorge had changed his mind before, threatening to sell you to WICKED and then saying he didn’t think so small. Now, suddenly, his offer to help was off the table. 

“Hey, wait,” Thomas called, just as baffled as you. “You’re not gonna help us?” 

“Don’t worry, hermano. We’ll get you back to where you belong.” Your lips parted, utterly confused when he turned, walking out of the room. “Hang tight.”

-

“Yes!” 

You let out a breath of relief, the edges of your lips curling upwards softly when you saw Teresa finally grab ahold of the ramp. After multiple unsuccessful tries, she managed to grab ahold of the lever, yanking it down. She fell towards the ledge, landing on her bum as she steadied herself.

Another yelp left your lips when you suddenly fell downwards once again, before coming to an abrupt stop. 

“Good evening! This is the World Catastrophe Killzone Department.”

You felt your heart plummet, a sick feeling flood you the moment you heard Janson’s voice. You impatiently turned, finding Thomas, who’d managed to grab the edge and pull himself up, start untying the rope wrapped around his feet. And Teresa, who’d just finished doing the same, push herself to a stand, tucking lose strands of hair behind her ears.

“We have your compound completely surrounded. You find yourselves, through no fault of your own... in possession of WICKED property. Return them to us unharmed and we’ll consider this a simple misunderstanding. Or you can resist...”

“Newt!” 

Teresa stepped forward, extending a pole out towards Newt. He accepted it easily, and slowly, she started pulling him in. The moment he could grab onto the edge, she begun untying the restraints around his ankles, helping him to his feet once he was free. The moment Newt was on his own two feet once again, he took the pole from Teresa’s hands, instantly heading over to you.

“And every last one of you will die. It won’t be long before the Flare wipes out the rest of us. The hope of a cure lies in your hands.”

“Y/N!” Without hesitation, you grabbed onto the same pole Newt had, this time him being the one to extend it towards you. Slowly, he pulled you in, until you were able to grab ahold of the edge of the floor and pull yourself off. Newt quickly handed Thomas the pole, to help Minho, before pulling you closer to himself.

Untying your feet, you grunted with effort, kicking off the rope and letting it fall off the edge. In the next second, you were taking Newt’s hand and allowing him to pull you up to your feet, before turning to help those, like Aris and Fry, still hanging. 

“The choice is yours.”

Once everyone was settled and free, you regrouped, heading towards the exit.

“Okay,” Thomas called, “let’s go, let’s go.”

Just as you moved to run out the exit, that same larger, creepy man appeared, a gun in his hands. He held it out, shifting between being aimed at Thomas, to Minho, to Newt, to you and so forth. Slowly, you shuffled back, holding your hands out before you, turning to Newt with panicked eyes. Newt placed his arm out in front of you, pushing you behind him slightly as Thomas spoke up.

“We’re not trying to cause any trouble, okay? We just got to get out of here.”

“Is that so?” The man smirked, before he raised the walkie-talkie in his hand. “Janson, I got ‘em for ya. I’m bringing ‘em down. Don’t shoot us.” You shook your head slowly, continuing to shuffle back when the man stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s go.”

When no one followed, the smirk on his lips fell and his eyes narrowed. “I said, let’s go.”

Suddenly, Thomas shot forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun and aiming it upwards just as the man pressed the trigger. Instantly, everyone ran forward, helping Thomas, who was struggling to get the gun from the man. Thomas kicked his leg out, making the man stumble back. When you all ran forward, he aimed the gun before him once again, cocking it. Immediately, you all stopped, a gasp of surprise leaving your lips.

Shooting forward, you all ran back when the man stomped forward, grounding out; “you little bastard.”

Before you could do or say anything, a gun shot echoed out. Your eyes widened, immediately snapping your gaze over to Thomas. You looked all over him, looking for a bullet wound, but found nothing.

When you looked back at the man, he slumped forward, and the same girl as before appeared behind him, a handgun aimed before her.

“Okay. Come on.”

-

“Brenda! Hurry!”

Running up the stairs behind Brenda, your eyes snapped over to Jorge, who ran past you. “We don’t have much time. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” Following behind him, he led you all to a set of doors. “Right this way,” he explained, before pushing the doors open.

Your lips parted in surprise when you saw a zip line of sorts. A long rope attached to the ceiling that connected all the way over to the other end, cascading over a huge drop. Apparently, that was the way you were meant to go.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Fry sighed.

“Plan B, hermano,” Jorge spoke, pulling on the rope to test it’s strength. “You kids wanna get to the Right Arm? I’ll lead you to them. But you’re gonna owe me.” With that, he pulled down on the brace, or you figured what you were meant to hold on to you, grabbing ahold of it tightly himself. In the next second, he jumped off the ledge, zipping along the rope all the while he yelled; “follow me!”

“All right!” Brenda bellowed, pulling down on another one of the braces. “Come on! Everyone, go!”

For a moment, you stared at her in bafflement. Were you really about to do this? But then Thomas was shoving Minho forward, then Aris, all the while encouraging them to go forward. “Go! Go! Go!”

Minho grabbed ahold of the brace, pulling it from Brenda’s hands. After a moment of preparing himself, grabbing ahold of the brace tightly, he followed Jorge’s lead, jumping off the ledge and zipping downwards.

“Aris,” you called, setting your hand on his back, “go!” He listened to you, taking another one of the braces from Brenda’s hand, before jumping off. Next was Fry, and then Teresa.

Stepping forward, she grabbed the brace from Brenda, before turning to Thomas. You furrowed your brows when you saw Brenda turn, running off, before any of you could say anything. You met Thomas’s eyes along the way and you knew he’d seen the same thing. 

Once Teresa was off, it was Newt’s turn next. Nodding at him, you pulled down one of the braces like you’d seen Brenda do, glancing back at Thomas who you noticed has stepped back, as if to follow Brenda, lips drawn in in concern and curiosity.

“Y/N, go-”

“No,” you shook your head, turning to Newt. With a smile, you handed him the brace, “go. I’m right behind you.” You nodded at him, “I promise.”

Newt seemed reluctant, but didn’t argue. In the next second, he was leaping off the ledge like all those before him. Just as you turned to grab a brace, opening your lips to call for Thomas, you saw him turn and run off after Brenda. For a moment, you just stood there, debating. When you looked back out at the zip line, you saw Newt, and knew that if you ran after Thomas, it’d scare the shit out of him.

But, Thomas, was your brother.

With a huff, you let go of the brace, sprinting off in the direction Thomas and Brenda had gone in.

When you finally caught up the two of them, you saw Brenda bent over one of the desks, tugging relentlessly on drawers, and messily searching through them.

“Thomas,” you called, pulling his attention on you. His eyes widened when he saw you, his shoulders falling in defeat and frustration. You only looked back at him in panic, knowing that your time was running out, if it wasn’t already gone.

“We gotta go!” Thomas bellowed back at Brenda.

Brenda pulled open another drawer, grabbing something before turning back to the two of you. “I got it,” she breathed, “I got it.”

“Come on!” You yelled, grabbing ahold of Thomas and yanking him beside you. Brenda followed suit, but all three of you fell to a sudden stop when you noticed two guards walking exactly where you needed to go. Brenda stepped forward, pulling out the gun she’d used before, pressing down on the trigger. She didn’t manage to hit any of the guards, but they did run behind some of the stands for cover.

Spinning around, Brenda pushed you and Thomas along. “Go! Go!”

You turned around, knowing better then to argue with her in that moment. She ran in front of you and Thomas, leading you along the way as the guards started shooting. Your body lurched forward when a bullet blew past you, a yelp leaving your lips. You felt someone grab ahold of your wrist, and looking up you saw Thomas, running wildly as he pulled you along.

You continued to run, fast and ragged breaths leaving your lips continuously. 

“Come on, hurry! We’re running out of time!”

You didn’t understand what she meant by that exactly, guessing she just meant the guards that were chasing you. Wordlessly, you continued to follow her, yanking on the sleeve of Thomas’s jacket when he turned, glancing behind himself with wide, panicked eyes.

“Let’s go!”

Running down the stairs, you felt sweat pour down your forehead and a huff of frustration leave your lips when you saw three new guards heading towards you. 

“I got eyes on ‘em.”

“Here,” Brenda yelled, pulling your attention back on her. Your eyes widened when you saw her step onto one of thin railings along the ceiling of the building, “follow me!”

“What the-”

“Come on!” She rasped, interrupting you.

You glanced behind Thomas, as if for guidance, but in the next second you heard the rapid footsteps of the guards from before running down the stairs. Decision made, you stepped onto the beam yourself, wobbling slightly, before gaining your balance and shuffling forward as fast as you could

“Stop! Stay right where you are!”

Glancing behind yourself, relief flooded you when you saw Thomas trailing behind you, arms out beside him as he tried to keep himself balanced.

“Shit.”

Continuing to walk forward, you felt panic flood you when you saw four come up on your side and one step onto the beam behind you. Thomas stopped, just as the guard raised his gun.

“Brenda, where we going?”

When you turned back to look at her, she was climbing over a fence, that lead back to a section of the building, bellowing out; “hurry! The song’s almost over!”

You just managed to climb over the same fence Brenda had, when explosions started going off. You felt your body jerk forward, and you nearly slipped, losing your balance, as you turned around, watching as fire burned around you.

“Come on!” Brenda called, turning your attention back on her.

For a moment, you didn’t move, neither did Thomas. But then, you saw the building quite literally coming apart before your eyes, it slowly growing closer to you.

“Thomas! Y/N! Come on!”

You didn’t hesitate this time, listening to Brenda’s advice and shuffling forward. Once Thomas climbed over the fence, you all broke out into a run, wobbling when the building shifted every which way. Yelps of surprise left your lips, your hands coming out beside yourself in a desperate attempt to balance yourself and not fall over.

Sprinting forward, you followed Brenda’s lead, grabbing onto one of the elevator wires and jumping off. You ignored the slight burn in your palms as you slid down, landing on your feet with a huff. You lost your balance, falling on your butt beside Thomas as you groaned. The moment of peace was short lived, as when you looked up, you saw pieces of debris from the explosion falling towards you at a face pace.

With wide eyes and parted lips, you ran forward, jumping off the top of the elevator along with Brenda and Thomas. Landing on your back, you raised your arms, covering your eyes and mouth when dust and pieces of debris came flying towards you.

And yet, all you could think about in that moment was if Newt was okay.

-

let me know what you thought? remember, reblogging always helps!

requests are closed!!

[herecomesnaya]

you know, in the shower, I started thinking about this website and having some Shower Thoughts(TM) about internet safety as a whole, and how much better a place the internet is than it was even a little over a decade ago. safety-wise and convenience-wise.

back when I started using the internet, YouTube didn’t exist. if you wanted to listen to music, you had to haul your ass over to Yahoo Music and watch the video. if it didn’t have a video, or if you wanted to own the song without paying for the album? you download Limewire and hope to heck you’re actually downloading Britney Spears - Lucky.mp3 and not some virus that’d skullfuck your whole system. sometimes you’d get the actual song, but with some digitally-added person saying “Music - ON demand!” every minute and fifteen seconds, and you just had to deal with it.

and if you wanted to watch funny videos? you went to Ebaumsworld, or Funnyjunk, or Newgrounds, and watched them using Flash, and hoped that whatever you were about to see was actually what it claimed to be. does anyone remember that Flash video about the cute little strawberry who would go on to shriek and swear up a storm until its cartoon baby companion started wailing? that was OG Elsagate right there.

and screamers were all the rage. there was no central site to say “hey, this video/game/animation that’s being passed around is a screamer, so avoid it if you don’t like those things.” every new video you clicked, you watched 5 feet away from the computer with your hands cupped over your ears if it seemed suspiciously pleasant. you have anxiety? fuck you! epilepsy? fuck you! a normal, human, deep-seated fear of disfigured corpse faces and sudden loud noises? fuck you! the internet delighted at your torment.

not to mention, it was just a pain in the ass to navigate at all. you got the virus protection software your computer came with — McAfee, probably — and no adblock. you just had to deal with the occasional pop-up that bounced around the screen, singing “YOU ARE AN IDIOT” and literally laughing at you as you chased it around with your mouse, trying to close it without clicking inside the box and redirecting you to a malware-infested hellpit of a site. ads for new animated emotes and colorful talking desktop buddies tempted children and adults alike, until Internet Explorer had 15 extra toolbars and your computer tower wheezed for death with every pitiful sputter of its overworked fan.

want to talk to someone? find a geocities fansite, or a forum. how do you find one? well, you can try a search engine, or you can go onto the AOL chat rooms and try and scope out people with similar interests. chat rooms which, by the way, came with easy links to the 18+ rooms, with no age verification necessary. a few clicks, and you were in with the Mature People, getting 5 private messages a minute from people named BigDickDaddy and chatwu6969 asking for your ASL. getting harassed? fuck you! they can just come right back in with a different display name.

back then, there was no automatic 18+ filtering, no warnings for sensitive content, no support for people’s triggers built into a site’s functionality. you heeded the warnings (IF the content creator was kind enough to post some), or you played a risky game of click-a-link and hoped you didn’t stumble across Goatse or Lemon Party this time. if you got offended, even by the most heinous things like IRL rape or pedophilia, you were laughed at, told to suck it up, had your breakdown posted on 4chan until a bunch of bored trolls found your home phone number and decided to flood it with cruel prank calls.

I hate to be all “kids these days,” but kids these days truly won’t know what it’s like to try and navigate an internet barren of pretty much every staple we have today. there was no looking someone’s name up on Facebook to confirm they were who they said they were; no block/report/spam buttons on everyone’s usernames; not even any fucking lyric videos for your favorite songs. it was truly the Wild West of the internet, a lawless wasteland filled with terrible people and tricks waiting for you at every turn.

so sure, websites today aren’t perfect. we shouldn’t stop trying to improve them. but you have so many ways to protect yourself from seeing things you don’t want to see nowadays, and you really shouldn’t take them for granted. turn on 18+ filters. blacklist tags. block people you can’t stand. friend and follow only people you trust, who post content you like. you have the power to tailor your internet experience to your personal tastes. use that power in every way possible, THEN find the flaws in the system and work to fix those. don’t just complain because you went into a fandom tag without blocking a ship name and had your poor eyes assaulted by, GASP, content for that ship.

this has been your Long Mostly-Pointless Ramble of the Day, thanks for stopping by