ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴜᴇ.

private newt rp blog affiliated with kny rp.

[aienkienrp]

( what's up, shanks. Newt here of the maze runner series is ready to come back after a bit of a surprise and prolonged hiatus BUT! HERE HE IS! Hopefully not too cranky about it! App can be found under /a. Thank u for all u put up with )

Welcome (back) to Koi, Newt!

You will be roomed in Cappuccino Apartments. Per request, you will find Minho waiting for you. If you need anything, consult the City Council or Pairing Project at your earliest convenience. Best of luck to you and enjoy your stay! Your welcome package contains a hand-knitted sweater, a notebook, and a toy gun!

★ Tiramisu Mod

[crankbound-blog]

( IN A “RELATIONSHIP” WITH :  finalkeeper )

[ @crankbound | #knystarfestival. ]

Despite all his big words and confidence, and all the smooth comments he made – Minho was not well versed in romance. Who had time to date or love when they were all trying to get everyone out alive? ( Thomas, apparently. ) It wasn’t like he didn’t want a girlfriend or whatever – it was just that when you were sorta in a life threatening situation, you sorta… uh, tended to focus on the life threatening situation first. 

So- Handholding? Dating? Someone teach him how to use Google, Maybe he can at least read up on shitty Yahoo Answers.

But, of course, Minho was not a schoolgirl with a crush ( oh, Harriet would have put a knife to his throat for that comment ), and there was absolutely no need to get nervous over this – it was with Newt, and maybe with Newt, things would feel a bit more like home than awkward acting, anyway. This was the person he joked about having griever makeouts with; Pretending to date? Should be no problem. 

Confidence is both his vice and blessing; he lets a lazy smirk drift across his face, even as he pauses at the entrance of the festival street, looking around at the lights and the colorful clothes. His gaze lands on Newt automatically after he surveys their surroundings –  holding out a hand, palm up, as if asking for a ballroom dance. His other hand rests in his pocket.

“So, slinthead–” he starts, drawling, trademark sarcasm obvious– 

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

           THE PLAN IS RELATIVELY SIMPLE ;  IN order to reap the benefits offered by the city in lieu of the festival,  he and minho would present themselves as a couple to secure those SWEET discounted purchases.  simple enough!  a registry of sorts is sure to prevent them from feigning whatever a  ‘fated’  relationship is  ( newt’s still unsure of the city in it’s entirety  ) ,  but pretending to date shouldn’t be too much of a problem ─  right..?

yes.  in theory,  this should be incredibly easy.  newt trusts minho with his LIFE ─  he’d even follow him right back into the maze if such measures were ever needed because he’s POSITIVE he’d be safe with minho ─  so feigning love should be  E A S Y  (  he’s sure the gladers would laugh at them.  would they be surprised,  though?  probably not  )  !!

by the time they arrive at the festival,  he’s calm.  initially,  he’s quite captivated by everything ─  he knows what a festival should look like but he’s never experienced anything CLOSE to...  THIS.  before he can linger in his foggy memories for too long,  though,  minho’s voice calls him back to the plan.  newt turns,  eyes glancing from minho’s trademark smirk down to the hand he holds out.  it’s all very. . .  formal. 

newt chuckles.

❝ did your book teach ya’ that one? ❞  he asks with a quirked brow.  newt glances around and suddenly leans a bit closer,  voice low to prevent anyone from overhearing,  ❝ relax,  shank.  you’re my boyfriend,  remember?  we’ve passed the bloody pickup lines. ❞  he teases as he takes minho’s hands,  intertwining their fingers.  he also tugs minho so they’re closer ;  shoulders brushing against one another.  it feels natural ─  perhaps his parents acted like this?  maybe he’s acting on memories locked away in his mind.  oh,  well.  minho’s hand is strong and sturdy ─  as newt would have imagined it. 

❝ now,  shank,  remember that i’m your favorite person right now and we love each other very much. ❞  he reminds, ❝ so,  where to first,  love? ❞

yeah.  he’d be cringing at himself,  too. but that discount,  right!

[crankbound-blog]

( UNKNOWN. // osrule )

        ❝  There’s no end to this city , isn’t there ?  ❞        He asks out of the blue as he looks at the horizon where water rests in a canal , reminds him of Venice. Harry knows he knows Venice but he hasn’t really heard of this place before ; he doesn’t know why he’d go here. Sure he speaks Japanese but , it has been a long time ago —– he isn’t sure if his Japanese is even acceptable at this point. Even so , it should be handy but based from the looks of the other present within his vicinity , he looks like he can understand English.

        ❝  Everything seems to be so … perfect here. The stock market isn’t even plummeting or something for the past few days ; business is good. What do you think ?  ❞ 

┇  @crankbound . sc  !

          THE SUDDEN VOICE STARTLES HIM at first ;  his muscles tense as an initial reaction in preparation for danger,  but none finds him.  instead, his eyes settle upon another boy looking but a few years older than he.  that’s right,  he tells himself,  there are other normal,  functioning people here.  he settles, casting his gaze out to follow the canal.  indeed,  the stranger's musings are spot-on ─  newt’s considered it himself.

he’s quiet,  debating whether to engage in the conversation.  but,  he figures,  why not? some things elude him.  stock market?  he knows he’s heard the term,  but...  it’s unfamiliar,  another memory he cannot fully reach. 

❝ well...  i’m not too sure myself,  to be honest. ❞  newt finally speaks up,  pocketing his hands,   ❝ this is the first proper city i’ve been in. ❞  a shrug follows the words ;  he’s a bit uncertain himself as to why he’s confessing the unprompted information.  perhaps he’s settling back into his laid-back and friendly demeanor quicker than he thought. 

❝ perfect? i don’t quite see any problems with that, ❞  he laughs a bit at this ;  it’s feels almost ironic,  ❝ i’d take this over bloody chaos any day. ❞  newt huffs,  sounding almost aghast that anything else would be acceptable. 

❝ guess my only concern is that it’s all a shuck LIE. ❞  his voice drops at this ─  as if the words were meant to be retained as thoughts.  too late now. 

[onandoften]

NEWT’S NEW LOOKS MADE ME CRY !!!!!!!! A 2 MINUTE VIDEO AND SUDDENLY IM BACK IN RUNNER HELL I CANT LET THIS BOY GO

[newtttheglue]

Character Profiles: Newt

“Good try, ya bugging shank. The Gathering elects Runners, and if you think I’m tough, they’d laugh in your face.”

[crankbound-blog]

( MINHO ; @finalkeeper )

          THE SHEER SIZE OF THE city is impressive ─  almost INTIMIDATING ─  though newt will never vocalize that specific thought for any to hear.  he hadn’t been able to see the city his companions were able to before their departure from the scorch and,  as such,  everything is FAIRLY new.  of course,  newt’s heard about many of what the city has to offer.  but having the knowledge is much different than experiencing it FIRST HAND. 

earlier ventures had been cautious ;  exploring the city for knowledge and confirming any suspicions.  as such,  there hadn’t been much wiggle room to take in all the city has to offer.  but now, at minho’s suggestion and encouragement,  he’s out and about with no goal other than to simply meander about.  he keeps minho close,  always within arm’s reach,  as dark hues scan the streets.  so many things he’s got knowledge of, but never actually seen.  he’s amazed by some of it,  wary about other bits,  but his curious nature has interest piqued now that he’s able to relax and  ( even temporarily )  cast away some of the doubts plaguing his thoughts.

he finally sighs,  feeling a bit overwhelmed,  if he’s being honest.  where does one even start in a place like this?  hands find their way into the pockets of his pants.  he scoots closer to minho and nudges the other with his shoulder,  eyes casting to him.

❝ alright, shank, ❞  he begins, ❝ this was your idea in the first place and,  quite frankly,  i’ve no idea where to even start. ❞  newt admits,  though a smile soon creeps it’s way onto his expression,  ❝ any bright ideas, leader? ❞

[crankbound-blog]

❝ fuck? what are you shanks on about? what a strange group of people... ❞

just when he thought this city couldn’t get any weirder─ !!

[crankbound-blog]

fcrsakenson:

@crankbound

With a groan of distraught frustration, Jonghyun ran a hand through already his already messy hair as a message to his mother once again failed to end, just about able to resist flinging his phone to the ground and crushing it beneath his heel.

It was the same error, no matter who he tried to contact in Seoul, no matter what the medium. Phone calls, texts; they all simply just bounced back. It was as though there was some force field around the islands he was forced to call home, preventing him from letting his mother and sister that he was fine. He’d made it, he wasn’t dead.

Though really, was he truly fine? His three best friends were dead, yet somehow stuck between the living world and being able to pass on. He couldn’t touch them, they couldn’t touch him. Meanwhile, even though he’d been released from hospital, Jonghyun’s battered body ached constantly, the smallest movements sending sparks of pain through him. And that was discounting the headaches that occurred whenever he tried to remember what had happened to them all. All he could get was a brief flash of a memory before agony shot though him, blinding him in in its ferocity and leaving Jonghyun a screaming, sobbing wreck on the ground. Pitifully crying out for his mother, for his friends. For anyone who could help him.

Shaking himself back to the present, Jonghyun pocketed his phone with a noise of disgust, burying his hands into his pocket went to continue his daily routine of wandering aimlessly, of hoping that he’d find something that would help him understand. Letting out a hiss as the world suddenly began to swim and swirl around him, Jonghyun sat back down, leaning as far forward as his injuries would let him, letting out a soft groan of pain.

“Nngh… C’mon. You can’t pass out here Jonghyun… What would the other say?” he mumbled to himself, closing his eyes and praying for the dizziness to pass.

          HE ISN’T SURE WHAT TO expect from the city when he first ventures out on his own. since his arrival, he hasn’t been the most EAGER to go out and about ─ it’s a complete turn-around of reaction from when he awoke in the midst of a GIANT MAZE with no memories and INCREDIBLY limited sources. but the circumstances now are v a s t l y different ─ and that’s not to mention the fact that it shouldn’t even be POSSIBLE for him to be here. who could blame him for feeling so paranoid about the city? 

but he couldn’t stay cooped up forever. he’s been out before but only with minho’s companionship ; his roommate and, quite honestly, best friend. though other pieces are missing, leaving newt with an incurable ache, he’s more than grateful to have such an anchor at his side. in face ─ he’s not quite sure he’d make it without him. but, after some assurance that his roommate would be FINE ( mostly self-assurance / working himself up to go out ), newt’s itching to get out and begin to discover what this mysterious city had to offer.

it’s not long before his eyes befall a most curious sight. 

another boy ─ perhaps a few years older than he ─ visibly distressed. move on, he tells himself, you don’t even know if you can trust the people here. but he can’t tear his eyes away. it’s true that, despite his resolve to move on, he can’t shake the PARANOIA that dominates his mind. he tells himself to avoid interactions, avoid possibly getting involved with people in the city. this could very possibly be some sort of TEST...- he can’t standby any longer as the boy slumps over, looking dangerously close to passing out. a silent curse later, newt’s rushing over, kneeling next to the stranger. 

❝ hey, you alright there, shank? ❞ newt reaches over, placing a hand on the other’s stranger for support, ❝ c’mon, you need to sit down somewhere. and... preferably not in the walkway. there’s a bench close by, let me help. ❞ he offers, eyes gesturing towards the empty bench in mention. newt’s aware that he’s going to have a problem on his hands if the boy does actually pass out but he can’t bring himself to ignore someone who clearly needs some help. dammit, and here he was, hoping to catch some normalcy among this mess!

[nantec-back]

Early morning 

[crankbound-blog]

finalkeeper.

You’re a shucking idiot, Minho would have said should Newt have voiced his fears, voice heated and eyebrows scrunching together in disdain– a low growl would leave his mouth as he pinned Newt with an expression that clearly indicated that he didn’t approve of Newt’s words at all. Rejection. A possibility that Minho never dared to consider. There was no way that Minho could do such a thing, even with harsh words shot on both sides and fists flying, Newt was his one of his closest friends, if not the closest; cutting Newt off wasn’t even in Minho’s relam of possibilities, and if Newt wished to reject them, he’d have to get through Minho. And he’d be dead set on never letting him leave. Flare or not. Crank or not.

( Except Newt had left, when Minho and Thomas had been in Denver. While Minho makes a point to try not to think about it, thoughts invade his mind regardless; the what ifs, what could have beens, what might have happened. It snags at his feet when he resolves to only look forward, forcefully making him come face to face with the facts – Newt hadn’t wanted them anymore, but if Minho’d been there at the berg, or if they’d come faster, if they’d never went to Denver… His chest constricts when he thinks about the fact Newt had done such a thing in the first place – The world had been crashing around him, his vision tightening into darkness; squeezing his heart and lungs so that he couldn’t breathe– everything had been bleak, at that point, when he’d discovered Newt’s note of departure. )

( There was no way, he’d thought. There was no way that Newt would just leave them– )

“Oh, yeah,” Minho says dryly, watching Newt straighten out his hair again, going along with the joke despite the initial expression of annoyance that’d flashed by his face. “Forgot to tell you. We got married in the middle of shucking Denver while we were gone. Cranks for bridesmaids, you should have been there. Bullets instead of flower bouquets. Was a wedding to kill for. Don’t mind if Thomas divorces me and marries you instead though, wouldn’t want that ugly shank as my spouse.”

Keep reading

          THAT LOOK IS ALL NEWT needs to know exactly the words his companion is silently conveying: he’s not do delve any further into self-pity, apologies, or DOUBT─ especially doubt─ lest he wish to face the consequences of an angry minho. no one wanted that─ not even the dumbest shank in the glade! that expression is all newt needs to mediate his destructive, nonsensical thoughts. OF COURSE it was stupid to ever think that, after everything they’d been through, minho would bear an everlasting grudge preventing a happy reunion. underlying vexations and conflicts yet to be discussed ; but newt knows that none of it matters in this very moment. not to minho, and E S P E C I A L L Y not to newt himself. he’s a fool for ever thinking otherwise, and immediately, he has to worry no longer. his worries dispelled by a single look ; newt begins to wonder if him and minho had ever been meant for the mind-reading implant. sometimes, it sure felt that way!

but that single conclusion doesn’t remedy the horrific memories of his last few encounters with minho. it doesn’t even feel like himself─ acting out in such rage─ STRIKING his best friend. but the words he’d spouted out to get minho, and the others, away from him at the time of his decay had likely struck deeper than any physical wound newt could have inflicted. moreover, the words he’d left them all with... newt would never forgive himself for his actions, even if minho would, even if his actions had been driven by means outside of his control. his memories may be hazy at BEST but he can clearly remember the UTTERLY BROKEN look in minho’s eyes after their final encounter. h e l l, he can even remember the rage surging through his body during their fight in the supplies room ( even though he’d been the one to wrongly initiate it ). so many regrets, so many things he could apologize for . . . 

minho would have ABSOLUTELY NONE OF IT, and newt knows that. 

he winces as minho lands a ( WELL-DESERVED ) punch to his arm. newt grunts but the action is so typically minho that he can’t find it in himself to bed about it at all ( in fact, he’s a bit surprised he wasn’t greeted with a fist to the face after all he’d done, despite the forgiveness established almost immediately ). instead, he grins and his brows raise as he rubs his wounded arm ─ reminiscent of the easier, more playful days of the glade when he and minho would wrestle around ( much to the surprise of the younger gladers ) with little worry. it was strange that such a place, one that had driven him extreme actions at the time, would hold his fondest memories. there’s something oddly warm about it, despite the PURE HATRED he felt. after all, it’s the closest place newt can call home.

....no. perhaps wherever minho is has been home all along. 

introducing minho to their new living quarters ( mostly out of the irony of it all. he’s sure there’s SOME sort of catch and their time here could very well be limited. in fact, newt will be surprise if the peace lasts. but they might as well enjoy it while they can. newt didn’t even get to discover the luxuries that denver held. ) only suits to prove as much. after everything that had happened, after years of having the glade as the closest thing to a home, only to be forced into finding a place to sleep whenever presented with a relatively flat surface, newt’s giving minho a ( probably unneeded, if he’s being honest ) tour of “their apartment”. but the familiar touches and familiar exchange of snark confirms newt’s thoughts. they could have been given a tent and it would still be home, so long as minho’s at his side. his mind wanders to how it could have possibly felt, to minho, to find somewhere after his departure. if the roles had been reversed.... 

he can’t ignore the ache in his heart whether he thinks too long on it or not. their reality had always been harsh and twisted from the very beginning but they always had EACH OTHER. until the very end, of course. the prolonged days he spent separated from minho, tommy, everyone else, had been the worst he can remember experiencing. but would the alternative be any better? would he have fought to stay, waiting for them to return from denver, only to watch his descent into madness? would newt really have let that happen-? 

he trashes the thoughts. it’s not in his power to change the things that happened and there’s no point in spending an extended amount of time focusing on the “what-if’s”. he’s here with minho now and even if there’s the amount of questions he has grows exponentially, he can’t deny the happiness he gets out of being reunited with someone who means SO MUCH to him. minho, too, appears to feel the same way, he notes. again, words are unnecessary to communicate emotions. but there’s confusion among the midst, as well. newt knows he’ll have many questions to answer come soon, but he doesn’t care. he’ll have plenty of his own, as well. it never occurs to newt that minho in blissfully unaware of the tragic end he faced, either. he HAD to know, right? what other outcome had been possible? from the very moment newt found out he wasn’t immune like everyone else, he knew there was only one fate for him: D E A T H.

and yet he stands in a small, yet cozy, apartment to share with minho, free of the flare, despite anything he knows as possible. 

he can feel minho’s eyes on him, reading every expression and noting every body movement he presents. likely, minho can read his unspoken thoughts as much as he’d like to hide them. he knows, because minho is just as easy to read. it’s both a blessing and a curse ─ but mostly the former. he’s grateful that minho doesn’t pry and respects what he doesn’t yet mention. all will be concluded eventually, at their own paces. newt trusts that on both ends ; it’s yet another comfort that makes this so easy around minho. it’s been this way for as long as he can remember, perhaps ever since their days running the maze together. he can’t verbalize how much he’s missed this, but he’s positive it doesn’t even NEED to be said. 

he’s pulled from his thoughts by, surprise surprise, a sarcastic remark from the king himself. newt slaps on a cheeky, exaggerated smile in response. ❝ yea? you want me to get some bloody pom-pom’s and start doing a cheer? ❞ newt replies, but he’s smiling once more. as minho passes, his thoughts are clear. newt nods his acknowledgment, his shoulders slumping in a manner that says ‘ i know, shank, i know. ’.  

the amount of comfort that translates through touch─ his own hand, resting on minho’s shoulder with the couch as elbow support and minho’s, resting on his leg─ is immeasurable. surely, minho can’t be taken from him now. no, WICKED could come at him with an ARMY and newt would fight to the death for this man. connected once again, nothing would pry minho away. not ever, not again. over his dead body.

he cringes at the given nickname. there were very few people who could call him that and get away with it─ minho, luckily, being one. not without a bit of a fight, though.

❝ call me that again, and i swear you’ll be a shuck ‘greenie’ until your last breath. ❞ he warns, but smiles through the supposed ‘threat’. this is how things should have remained─ fun, lighthearted, safe... 

❝ you? rest? minho, i’m pretty sure the only time you rest is when your body forces you to. ❞ he teases, but there’s truth in his words. he knows the same applies to himself, in most situations. it’s what made them fantastic runners ─ the desire to always move forward. as minho settles in, so does newt, twisting his body ever so slightly to face minho, pressing his leg into the other’s. his hand doesn’t move as it’s cupped by minho’s, yet another gesture of security. his eyes don’t leave minho, as if the boy will disappear the moment newt looks away. he’s not quite sure he could handle that. 

he listens as minho recounts the events following his departure. it pains him to think about his friends going through all of that─ he can’t even fathom. his stomach turns at the realization that he’d encountered thomas in that very mission minho is referring to. it’s the last of his memories and that alone has him nearly choked up again, but he remains silent, waiting for minho to finish. their trials hadn’t been enough? newt wants to laugh─ that had been obvious all along. it was never enough. never enough for a cure. everything they had endured had been for naught and maybe, on a subconscious level, newt knew it all along. he’d been dead from the start. but he can’t let himself get caught up in that. he forces himself to remain steady, or, tries to. 

safe haven. the destruction of WICKED. tommy’s disappearance. 

it’s all S O  M U C H.

the silence following minho’s cut-off words is almost unbearable, but he can’t bring himself to say anything. it all feels so incredibly surreal. a safe haven for the immunes. minho had made it. and for that long, he was there, SURVIVING. minho made it. WICKED was gone. 

....but was that enough? 

maybe it’s SHOCK he’s feeling ; shock that’s drawing him away from reality. but a tightening grip on his leg tells him otherwise. this is still very real, minho is SOMEHOW, SOMEWAY here with him. if WICKED is gone, this is real, right? he watches minho’s expression change, going through a flurry of emotions all in a matter of moments. he’s clueless as to what to say, caught up in the moment as well. he’s frozen, too stunned to find words. his mouth opens but nothing makes it out. not even a ‘minho, that’s the circulation to my leg you’re cutting off’.

the tears that fall from minho’s eyes snap his jaw back shut. has he ever seen minho cry? the tough, sarcastic, quick-to-anger minho, reduced to tears with emotion. his other hand moves slowly, on it’s own, to wipe the tears away but minho’s beat him to it. minho appears to have surprised himself, even. 

he’s barely keeping himself together when minho utters out an apology.

and, like that, newt shatters. 

the tears he’d been fighting back since minho’s appearance flow freely now. once again, he embraces minho in a tight hug, completely unable to put together any words right away. he holds minho tightly, dearly, letting his tears fall ( probably soaking minho’s shirt in the process ) with no shame. it was seeing his cherished friend in such a way that pushed him over the edge. how long had it been since minho was able to let his emotions show? how long had he had to be the strong face for everyone? even in this so called “safe-haven”, did minho find happiness? 

they should have made it together. all along, they should have found a safe haven together─ and WICKED had ruined that.

❝ slim it. why are YOU bloody sorry, you shuck faced idiot. ❞ he sobs, holding minho all the more closer. he’s not sure how long he goes between words, simply clinging to the other while crying and, quite frankly, he doesn’t give a damned. ❝ it’s ALWAYS been WICKED. you, me, tommy... alby, gally, everyone, we all did what we could. the bloody maze, the flare, when i... ❞ when i died, he can’t bring himself to say, ❝ it’s always been THEIR FAULT, and i hate them. ❞ his words are choked ; full of sorrow and venom directed at the terrible people that did this to them, ❝ stupid trials and tests, i’ll never forgive them, minho. it’s not your fault. ❞ his voice steadies enough to mumble the words. he’s trembling, but finally pulls back from minho. only slightly, though, just enough that he can rest his forehead against the other’s, keeping his hands sturdy on his shoulders. 

❝ i missed you too, minho. i wanted to stay with you lot, but i ─ ❞ the words catch in his throat. he decides he can’t continue with that particular one. what can he say about the virus, and his regrets, that minho doesn’t already know? ❝ all i know is that we’re here together, now, against all odds. even if it is another shuck test, or whatever, i don’t care. no more apologies, either. ❞ he’s contradicting his own doubt earlier, but now his thoughts are true ─ and it’s minho that’s helped him come to the realization. he exhales slowly, finding himself calming down, slowly but surely. he gives minho’s shoulders a squeeze for good measure. 

❝ but it doesn’t matter now, yeah? whatever this place is, it’s good you’re here with me, slinthead. good that? i think we can handle quite everything, at this point. ❞

[crankbound-blog]

averagebled:

@crankbound || Starter call!

“I’m not average!” Nate protested at the boy’s terrible joke. He never looked so offended by his remark. “Just because I like to read, eat and sleep, it means I have a life or get simple grades.” He’d be more willing to tell him that he has a pair of Yokai pals but he has to stop himself. He can hear Katie mocking him again in his head. Why must life be so cruel to him?

Trying to change the subject again, Nate stared at him suspiciously. “Dude, what were you doing lurking around the tea house by then? It’s suspicious. Uhh, what if there’s some ghosts lurking nearby?”

          HE REELS BACK ─ JUST SLIGHTLY ─ in response to the strong reaction he’s received in response to, what he considered, a casual remark; not unlike how he’d banter with the boys back in the glade ─ the closest thing newt has to a home. 

❝ sorry about that, ❞ he says with a small smile in attempts to mend the situation, ❝ didn’t mean to offend, not too used to things being so... normal. ❞ newt adds, ❝ but it’s not a bad thing, i can promise you that. ❞ he ensures, hoping that mentioning the word ‘normal’ wasn’t going to set the kid off again.

newt rubs at the back of his neck─ he’d been doing some looking around out of curiosity ; learning the layout of the city, and all. ❝ nothing to get so worked up about. to be honest, i haven’t actually been to a tea house before. just trying to figure out all these names. ❞ he admits, squinting at the menu. oolong? white tea? grey tea? it’s beyond him. 

❝ ghosts? that’s the problem? ❞ he’s got a confused expression now, raising his brows. he almost wants to laugh─ out of everything to be worried about, the kid’s worried about ghosts? ❝ you pullin’ my bloody leg? ❞

[prettiestcaptain]

Newt having to deal with jackassery aka burying his crippling depression, chronic pain and the feeling of impending death under 53 layers of sarcasm

[crankbound-blog]

candycrushing:

✧✰ ❤ ✧✰ ;;    

             after  the  arduous  series  of  tests  in  a  span  of  two  days ,  a  nice dine - in was  an  appropriate  reward  for  juliet.  unfortunately ,  there  was  still no  luck in  assembling  an  immaculate  cheer  squad ,  so  there  was justification  in drowning  disappointment  in  sweets  and  sugar - flavoured beverages  to  just be  worked  off  later  on.  and  then ,  the  idea  came  to  her :  she  could  just  go  to  work  to  splurge on  a  discount ,  despite  it  being  her off  day.  if  memory  served  correctly , her  next  time  on  the  clock  was  that wednesday  at  four ,  granting  her  a two  day  interval  of  school  and relaxation.  as  of  the  moment ,  lemon cream  pie  and  strawberry  banana smoothies  were  the  most  sensual  items in  a  universal  radius.  

upon  entering  sweetpea ,  juliet  found  herself  waving  to  familiar  customers and  some  that appeared  to  be  new  and  inexperienced ,  but  the  most comical  was  the  person  in  front  of  her  :  a  blonde  haired  boy  who ,  if  she  listened  closely ,  seemed  to  bear  an  accent.  he  wasn’t  a  part  of  her personal  clientle  and  would  be  surprised  if  any  of  her  co - workers  knew of  him.  she  sees  him  sidestep ,  presumably  apologetically ,  which  prompts her  to  flag  her  hand  in  a  dismissive  manner.  he  stares ,  she  returns  it - - yet  couldn’t  help  but  notice  if  he  was  startled  or  just  embarrassed.  oh ,  he definitely  has  an  accent.  a  cute  one ,  though!  ❝ it’s  alright.  need  some help?  I  work  here ,  so  I  like —— know  everything  like  the  back  of  my  hand … god ,  that  sounds  so  weird  when  you  say  that  out  loud  ——  anywho ,  take your  time.  need  me  to  recommend  anything to  you?  fun  fact ,  the  vanilla pink - buttercream  cupcake  is  seriously  amazing!  the  best  freakin’  calories next  to  candy  itself. ~  ❞  

          he’s got half a mind to simply dismiss himself and move on; curiosity had been the driving force leading him to enter the café. conversation hadn’t been on the agenda ─ he’s still wary of the citizens and even the city itself. then again, it’s a bit silly to figure he could avoid interaction with so many people around. he’s.. still adjusting to that. but the stranger’s kindness; her eagerness to forgive and help; eases newt’s paranoia in the slightest. she seems excited to talk about her work, too ( she helps prepare the food, he guesses? ), reminding him all too well of another friend of his. his stance relaxes, despite the flurry of unfamiliar words. he manages an amused chuckle─ short, a bit quiet, but genuine. a hand moves to rub the back of his neck, lips pursing together in thought. despite her recommendation, it’s all still quite STRANGE. 

❝ vanilla what? if that isn’t a shuck mess of words, i’m not sure what is. ❞ his response isn’t sour but rather amused. his dialect hasn’t changed, either, despite how odd he probably sounded to anyone who ISN’T one of his two friends. ❝ i, uh, ‘preciate the help, i really do. i’m sure it’s good and all, but i’ll be honest, i had no buggin’ idea all that could be put into one. you sure that’s even safe? ❞ calories. candy. all things he know about, but can’t remember the last time he’d been able to indulge on. ❝ got anything with simpler words? even your milk is complicated ─ no offense─ but i haven’t even heard of milk comin’ from anything but a bloody cow. they can really make any of that? ❞ this place gets even WEIRDER by the second.

[crankbound-blog]

@candycrushing liked for a starter !!

         his new world is a place of familiarities that feel incredibly foreign; a paradoxical feeling that has newt scanning menu items twice over─ sometimes thrice for good measure─ just to make sure he’d read it right. ANY other venue would have made for a wiser choice; this café has him embarrassingly dumbfounded. then again, the concept of going to a store and buying things feels surreal in itself. has he ever been to a proper store? does he even have money? newt searches his memories but draws blanks─ frustrating, but not surprising. 

❝ blood orange lemonade? ❞ he reads the name out loud, brows pinching together as a reflection of his confusion. lemonade─ that’s familiar. but what’s all this other nonsense? ❝ a shuck fresca? sounds like a load of klunk to me─ ❞ he’s muttering to himself, rubbing the back of his neck  ─

the approaching presence snaps him out his daze. too close. newt instinctively sidesteps, hues snapping upwards towards the person. a few moments are all he needs to relax his stance; just another citizen, he concludes. no reason to fret ─ right? other than the fact that he’s been glued to his place before the menu for who knows how long.

❝ sorry ‘bout that. ❞ he smiles meekly, ❝ i’m not too familiar with places like.. this. i haven’t been in your way, have i? ❞

[crankbound-blog]

MINHO.

He’s so warm, he’s so warm, he’s so warm. The longer he holds him, the longer he can feel Newt’s heartbeat under his cheek, living proof that the being under him was flesh, blood, and sinew. There was no way that WICKED could fake this, the breaths that his friend took in, the arms that instantly held him back, the way Newt was just here and alive; his whole presence just too absolute, so complete. 

His life felt more complete. 

They were together again, and Minho feels powerful. Happiness bubbles up in his chest, through the doubt and pain; through the dark turn their last meeting had taken, and at that moment, everything feels alright again. He could do this, he could take on the world if he had to; anything, anything to keep this moment safe. 

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         if he’s being honest, a small part of newt had dreaded the possibility of rejection. any logical conclusion that could be drawn points to the impossibility of this reunion; minho has every reason to DOUBT and, beyond that, react with anger. after all, the last time they saw each other, newt was threatening to shoot down his friend with a dangerous weapon of WICKED’s creation ( how IRONIC that he, who’d been hurt beyond repair by the devious bastards, threatened his cherished friend with such a device ) in a fit of madness he couldn’t control. he never wanted to hurt minho─ never wanted to see such a pained expression like that painted onto his face. and yet the imagine bears into his memory with a searing clarity in comparison the other botched and foggy scenes that replayed in his mind. if minho hated him for it─ newt would be the last to blame him.

but the embrace tightens following his choked apologies. minho’s arm hold him tighter than before, wordlessly conveying emotions in a way that’s so MINHO, newt can’t help but feel his worries, regret, and guilt dissipate into nothingness. whether he deserved it or not, minho would forgive him. together, they would move forward. whatever challenges this new city would present, he would face it with minho ( and tommy, of course! ) at his side. just as it was in the maze, back when they ran alongside each other as equals, minho’s strength became his. newt would preserve that feeling forever─ embed it into his mind in place of what wreaked havoc inside his head.

right now, that’s more than he could ever ask for. more than he knows he deserves.

tears threaten to spill from his eyes at any moment but newt fights─ he fights HARD─ to keep himself together. the overwhelming happiness that surges throughout put up a good fight, threatening the composure he tries so desperately to hold ( but why? this is minho, of all people! ). if it weren’t for minho’s unadulterated strength and silent comforts, newt can’t imagine he’d be any better off than a shuck crying baby in that moment. but there’s a protection that comes with minho’s vice grip, one he can’t quite explain, but one that’s been there since the moment him and minho took on the maze together as a duo. as PARTNERS. his mind had been so muddled by the poisonous infection that he’d been so unable to realize how much he needed this─ needed MINHO. newt had forgotten how much he had relied on his companion. the FLARE had made him forget that which was so damned precious to him, devouring what kept newt’s life whole. and perhaps that was the biggest crime of all. he hated the flare, hated wicked, hated every factor that tore him apart from his friends.

so he holds onto minho, clings to him, nodding a silent acceptance in return to the silent forgiveness ( or, the beginning of such ) that had been addressed with a simple gesture. newt almost wants to laugh at himself for fearing the worst. not that he’s excusing himself from his actions, of course. no, those would stay with newt forever. the resentment he bears towards himself will never possibly cease to exist. but if minho can move on, that’s more than enough for him. he doesn’t cry; doesn’t whine; and simply lets himself enjoy the moment with minho until the embrace breaks off ( there will be more, he’s sure of it ). he gazes back at minho with a smile and wide eyes, but a new waves of anxieties washes the smile away in a fraction of a moment.

he has to double back in his mind, repeating minho’s words to make sure he heard right. months. months had passed since he’d last seen minho? brows pinch together as he tries to process that idea. it was silly to try to make sense of anything at this point; everything was impossible. he has half the idea to press the issue but a sturdy pair of hands find his shoulders before he can do so. a soft smile returns, newt’s hands moving to rest on minho’s. he watches as minho’s eyes light up at the confirmation of thomas’s presence. the release of triumph, a cry that can only belong to minho, has newt barking out a short laugh in return. minho doesn’t have to voice his thoughts for newt to understand. his joy is clear: they’re together once more. the gladers. his family. from here on out, they’ll conquer anything together. alone, newt feels lost. scared, even. but the letter was right and he’s now got minho and thomas once more─ whatever this city will throw at them, whatever trial wicked’s got planned for them next, they’ll handle it.

( unless, of course, the flare decides to reignite, chipping away at his mind until he deteriorates once more into a babbling, mindless monster. the thought forms a lump in his chest; raises bile in his throat. he can’t afford to consider that outcome- not now. not that he’s got minho back. )

there’s little room for worry. he’s comforted as minho takes his hand to stand, gripping tightly and feeling glad when minho doesn’t let go straight away as he asks questions. newt appreciates the touch, even little. it makes the situation feel all the more real; assures newt that minho is real. and then, before he can process things, minho’s suddenly taken him into one of his famous headlocks. anyone else may receive a rough elbow to the gut but this is minho and newt is laughing, scrambling to grasp onto minho’s arm in an attempt to soften the punishment. once again, the world slows. it becomes nothing more than a moment of roughhousing with a long-term friend without a care in the world. well, other than fear for his hair ( which, since being in the city, has become much more manageable. when was the last time he properly washed it? )

❝ alright, alright! enough of that. ❞ he snorts playfully but keeps minho close as he tames his hair back down, the aftermath of the deadly noogie. he steps in line with minho as he finally enters; due in part to the arm around his shoulders ( he doesn’t mind ) and because he’s not about to let minho get too far, even within the tiny apartment. he steals a quick moment to make sure the door is locked, both locks, and double checks before his full attention is back on minho and his gifts. an eyebrow is raised as the sign is discarded in favor of a book. he lets minho place it in his hand without question, squinting at the title before he’s chuckling again. he tosses the book aside onto a counter ( a counter! when’s the last time he’s gotten that luxury? ).

❝ newlyweds? if you’re talkin’ about you and tommy, then sure. ❞ he teases, ❝ you still know how to read, then? good that. ❞ newt adds, grinning all the while. but he’s quick to continue on, letting minho look around their supposed new home. he occasionally offers commentary ( “and this here’s a fridge. an actual, working fridge. keeps things cold. few other things i remember. a sink? with runner water? can you believe this klunk?” ) but never strides too far from minho. he keeps within arm’s reach, appreciating the small touches that indicate minho is still there─ still with him. newt returns the same gestures, sometimes pressing against the small of his back as he let’s minho observe or holding his shoulder. the small, little things that mean so much. 

the tour ends and a more serious tone is present. newt takes the letter and quickly scans it over; it reads very similar to the letter he’d received, no doubt. something is OFF about all this. how can things just work out so perfectly? his stomach turns as the topic returns in regards to the jumbled timing of everything. reasonably, any amount of time could have passed and anything could have happen. newt’s mind suddenly FLOODS with questions─ what happened to him and thomas? who else survived? what happened to wicked? the right arm? did the plan work? did they find a cure? nothing lines up and his head whirs, but he’s suddenly taken aback by minho’s outburst. he winces, heart dropping. months, just as minho had said earlier. he’d understand if it had JUST been him that had been absent that long, but... thomas, too?

❝ months? that’s... not right. i woke up here after i─ ❞ his words catch in his throat. he can’t bring himself to say it. after i DIED? who in their right mind ever has to say those words? he can’t bring himself to, shoulders tensing as his eyes fall to the ground, ❝ i was in the scorch one day, and here the bloody next. it doesn’t make any shuckin’ sense. ❞ he sighs, raising a hand to rest on minho’s shoulder in an attempt to get him to ease up a bit. it twists his gut to think of minho, alone, for that long. he suddenly wants to cry again, tell minho how SORRY he is. but he knows he might not get away with that again. not without his hair, at least. 

and perhaps minho is right─ he’s over worried. but he can see the way minho moves, hear the stress in his voice. they’re both thinking about the possibility of WICKED being behind all this. still, hearing the small assurances from minho is enough to ease his worries once more. for a little bit, at least. 

❝ cured, huh? that easy? ❞ he’s monotonous, eyes unfocused and suddenly detached. he’d been through so much─ his body and mind bear the scars to prove it─ and it’s all over? that easy? newt feels a small spark of anger. WHY ? ❝ well, you’re right about one thing. i’m alive, you’re here, everything’s normal. for now, at least. ❞ he shakes his head and runs an unsteady hand through his hair. but when he returns his gaze back to minho, he’s smiling. ❝ thanks, slinthead.❞

safe from the flare. that’s all he can really ask, isn’t it? a clear mind, minho, and thomas. that’s FINE─ minho’s right, and newt knows it. he relaxes once more. the other questions can come later. his eyes follow minho as he practically collapses onto the couch. another laugh escapes him and it’s not long before he joins minho. he sits close; close enough to to pat minho’s leg in amusement. 

❝ all this to myself? yea, real bloody amazing. ❞ his eyes roll, snark in his voice, ❝ wondering how i’m even here, wondering where you shanks are, or if you’ll even show up. best few days of my life. ❞ newt’s sarcasm at it’s finest, but there’s no ill-intent behind it. ❝ the couch is a bonus. oh, and we’ve got a t.v. now, too. even better? a working shower. you can finally wash away that klunk smell of yours. oh, and did you know toilets flush? ❞ he tips his head to the side, exhaling slowly. it’s all so surreal. such simple things they’d been deprived of for so long. sure, they’d gotten a taste the berg. perhaps the others did in denver, but...

he redirects his thoughts.

❝ so... what ended up happening? ❞ newt props his arm up on the back of the couch so that his hand rests ever so slightly on minho’s shoulder. he figures things will be like this for a while, minho willing. ❝ those months you mention. what happened, minho? ❞

[solarseptum]

Yeah new character poster and new trailer day! Gotta celebrate it with drawing the bae <3 Also gotta love these warm, earthy colors with Newt, gives a cozy vibe~

[crankbound-blog]

MINHO.

Minho is running.

You’d think he’d get used to waking up in unfamiliar situations. You’d think he’d understand loss. You’d think he’d get used to the frustration, the fear, the freezing feeling of total terror dripping down every notch of his spine, the helplessness of the circumstances; that he’d get used to the realization that he was ripped away from somewhere he thought as safe, from the things he’d sworn to protect – Frypan, the other immunes, Paradise. Thomas. Newt.

You’d think he’d be used to this, to the whole “lets dump people into random situations to mess with the killzone” thing, to the whole “shank, you thought”, the betrayal, the tests. This constant cycle of being played into WICKED’s hands– You’d think maybe he’d start doubting every and any situation his life threw at him. They’d called them variables, had they? That when he opened up that fateful sheet of paper, hands clammy and heart beating too loud in his chest, you’d think that maybe, he’d think that this was impossible. That his long fallen friends being his roommates was a laughable notion, this was just another trial, a trap –

You’d think he’d give up.

But that wouldn’t be Minho, would it?

As long as there was something he could fight for, he’d fight for it, and if there was even the smallest possibility of getting back the people he swore to protect–

He’d chase it.

Finding the way is easy; one terrified citizen later, he’s well on his way to Cappuccino apartments, and he’s banging on the door. His instincts from the maze hadn’t dulled, it seemed like, despite the time he’d spent out of it.

The door opens mid-bang, and Minho almost collapses on top of the other boy when it does – his momentum almost carrying him through the doorway, and wouldn’t that be a greeting. His hand flies to the doorframe in an attempt to steady himself as his gaze quickly finds the other’s eyes, taking in the clarity, the cleanness of his face, the ease of which his friend, his partner, greeted him; the body language, quick points mapped into an easy conclusion. A wry smile quirks itself on his face, letting himself hope, to believe–

Newt– Newt was here.

“Well, I’ve been shucked and gone to heaven,” he wheezes– but there’s glee in his voice, almost laughter, despite the usual undertone of sarcasm; the amusement a bit too genuine, too light to be mocking. It was real, real, real– even if this was all a test by some higher being, he finds that he doesn’t quite care. 

“Newt.” His voice struggles through the ragged breaths he was taking, the single name tearing itself out with almost relief. Thoughts run through his brain at the speed of a bullet; mangling themselves into a trainwreck of an ending as his legs buckle under him, despite the nagging feeling that this should be impossible, the implications of Newt being not cranked out of his mind – his mind jumps to betrayal, to WICKED, but the cracks in his belief wasn’t yet enough to tide over the overwhelming sense of simultaneous guilt, loss, and elation that hammers in his chest when he sees that familiar face again.

‘Go!’ Newt stepped closer and aimed more fiercely. Eyes losing clarity, trembles wracking his body, the Flare eating away at his whole being –‘Get out of here!’

‘I’m sorry.” Newt said, tears streaming down his face. “I’m… I’m going to shoot if you don’t go. Now.’

The hand slides down the doorframe as he finally sinks to his knees, his other hand dropping the stupid sign that had been given to him to grasp at Newt’s arm– he can hear the uncertainty in Newt’s voice, despite the even words, and that was always Newt’s job, wasn’t it? To keep himself together when others couldn’t. Perhaps Newt only remembers the painful words he’d thrown at him in the last meeting, but Minho can remember the reluctance– And when the last thing he’d heard from the other boy was an apology with a tear stained face–

“What, no Launcher to greet me this time?”

Despite the words, the tone he says them in are not barbed at all, but rather amused. He drags the other boy down with him into a fierce hug, arms enveloping him easily, letting the tenseness drain out of his body, brushing off any of Newt’s comments to answer later; what did the other boy really expect, anyway? Him? Pause and try the key?

“We have to go back. Now that you’re here, we have to go back– to Frypan, Brenda, everyone else–”

Muffled words into the other’s neck, but despite the words that called for action, he doesn’t really seem to want to let go. The only thing that does break him out of the hold is the sudden urgent notion that hangs at the back of his brain – and even then, he keeps his hold on Newt’s arms, hands sliding down to the boy’s elbows, as if he was reassuring himself that Newt was still physically, tangibly real – eyes studying Newt carefully, before his hands go to pat at the other’s face then pinch them even as he speaks.

“Wait, is Thomas here?”

          if the person standing before him wasn’t so MINHO, newt might not believe this is real. but the way minho’s eyes light up, the small, trademark smirk that’s been his ever since newt’s know him─ it all provides the assurance he needs to know that his cherished friend stand before him. minho, minho, minho. he has to fight back tears, feeling a heavy lump form in his throat upon hearing minho’s voice again. 

he knows minho means so ill-will with his words, but he can’t help feeling reminded of his memories of their final encounter weigh heavy on his heart, guilt and regret making a prominent stand.

❝ oh, minho, ❞ newt nearly chokes on his words as minho’s tight embrace takes him. the hug is returned with no hesitation, his arms reaching around to hold minho as if he could disappear just as soon as he’d arrived. the emotions that surge throughout him threaten to shatter the fortified, calm expression he already struggles to uphold. what good is he─ THE GLUE─ if he can’t even manage to hold himself together? despite his desperate attempt, newt’s voice trembles. his lips quiver, wracked by the overpowering feelings he had yet to face with a clear mind. feelings of guilt, regret, powerlessness─ all of the above. he keeps his voice low in a LAUGHABLE attempt to disguise his fleeting strength. 

❝ minho. i’m sorry. i’m so bloody sorry, ❞ an apology is the last thing minho will want; there’s a part of newt that knows this. his final memories are hazy at best with only bits and pieces in full clarity─ his last words to minho fall under the latter. the cursed virus had dwindled his mind so low that he threatened minho, a CHERISHED FRIEND, with such piercing words. newt hated himself for it.          ( ...but would he have done things differently? let minho witness his slow spiral into madness??? perhaps not. ) he wants to say more, explain himself, but he can’t find the words. besides, what can he say that minho doesn’t already know? 

instead, his attention is captured by minho’s words. his brows furrow, expression contouring into a moment of confusion. it’s shielded, of course, by the embrace they currently share. 

❝ go back? where are we going to go back to? ❞ ‘we’─ it’s so natural. it’s finally WE again. him and minho together, as it should have always been. there isn’t a doubt in newt’s mind that anything will change about that if they’ve got anything to do about it, either. from here on out, they’ll be together. but a looming fear overshadows any celebration he may have felt. ❝ back to the scorch? you shucked in the brain now, as well? let’s take things one step at a time, yea? ❞ he knows minho wouldn’t ever take him somewhere he’d be at risk─ but the looming fear of what they came from still lingers in the back of his mind. he trusts minho with his life ─ it’s his own mind he worries over. 

the warmth provided through their embrace is suddenly gone but the connection remains. without thinking about it, his own hands rest upon minho’s arms. it was so natural and so easy; being with minho again. it’s the little things that keep him from utterly losing his mind over the disarray behind their arrival. he has his suspicions that this can’t last─ but he’d be damned if he didn’t appreciate it while it lasted. and then, minho’s question, as simple as it is, has newt smiling. a genuine, heartfelt smile. he swats minho’s hands away, momentarily feeling all his worries slip away.

❝ tommy? yeah, he’s here, too. we’re here. ❞ another crack in his voice. this time, out of the pure and unadulterated joy that came along with FINALLY being able to say those words. newt collects himself and finally pulls himself into a stand, offering a hand to minho. 

❝ now, get up, shank. or shall we call you greenie, now? and what is that you’ve got there? ❞ a smirk; eyes casting downwards to the item minho had dropped on the floor. he wavers impossibly between disbelief and feeling at ease in the presence of his cherished friends─ one of the few he’d consider his best. ❝ for what it’s worth, i’ll show ya’ around whatever... here is. you get the same letter we did? ❞ he asks, head tipping slightly. ❝ i didn’t... i wasn’t sure if you would actually show up. thought it was just another bloody trick... been about a week now, though. maybe a few days more. thomas got here a few days ago. ❞ he answers unprompted questions that he’s sure minho will want to know─ that he’ll need to know, if they’re to figure things out. 

❝ minho... do you think we’re safe here? ❞ perhaps it’s a stupid question, he’s aware. whatever the answer─ he wants it from minho, one of the two people he can trust right now.