#runner shorts

[shinygearart]

... you can find this black mega shiny nylon racer shorts in the markyman shop: https://markyman.etsy.com ❤️‍🔥

[creeathelabel]

The Positivity of Crop Tops and the Acceptance of Different Body Types

Introduction

Fashion is a form of art, and like any art, it should be a canvas for self-expression, regardless of one's body shape or size. In recent years, crop tops have emerged as a symbol of this progressive shift towards body positivity and inclusivity in the world of fashion. In this article, we'll delve into the fascinating journey of crop tops, their newfound relevance in the realm of body positivity, and how everyone can confidently embrace this versatile fashion trend.

The Crop Top Revolution

The crop top, once considered a trend exclusively for the slim and trim, has undergone a remarkable transformation. It has transcended its initial associations and is now celebrated as a garment that can flatter people of all body types. This evolution is a testament to the changing perceptions of beauty in our society.

Crop Tops for Everyone

One of the most beautiful aspects of the crop top resurgence is its inclusivity. No longer confined to a select few, cross tops are now designed to cater to a diverse range of body shapes and sizes. This shift represents a significant stride toward ensuring that fashion is a space where everyone feels seen and celebrated.

Crop Tops: A Confidence Booster

Clothing has the incredible power to boost confidence. Many individuals have shared their personal stories of how wearing a crop top with runner shorts helped them break free from self-doubt and body insecurities. It's a reminder that confidence is not about conforming to societal beauty standards but about feeling comfortable in one's skin.

Styling Tips for Different Body Types

The key to successfully embracing cross over crop top lies in understanding your body shape and selecting styles that complement it. For those with an hourglass figure, cinched-waist crop tops can accentuate curves. If you have a pear-shaped body, high-waisted bottoms paired with crop tops draw attention to the smallest part of your waist.

Breaking Stereotypes: Crop Tops for Formal Events

Crop tops were once reserved for casual outings, but times have changed. Today, they are making waves in formal fashion. When styled elegantly with maxi skirt with split or tailored trousers, crop tops can create sophisticated and graceful ensembles suitable for weddings, galas, and other special occasions.

The Rise of Inclusive Brands

The fashion industry has recognized the importance of inclusivity. Many brands now champion body positivity and offer a diverse range of crop tops that cater to various body types. These brands not only create stylish clothing but also promote the idea that beauty knows no bounds.

Body Positivity in the Fashion Industry

In recent years, the fashion industry has witnessed a paradigm shift. Influencers and celebrities have used their platforms to champion body positivity and challenge conventional beauty standards. This movement is not about celebrating one body type over another but about embracing diversity in all its forms.

Crop Tops and Self-Expression

Ultimately, clothing is a powerful form of self-expression. Your style reflects your unique personality, and crop tops or coral playsuit are a canvas on which you can paint your individuality. Don't be afraid to experiment with different styles, patterns, and colors. Let your fashion choices speak volumes about who you are.

Conclusion

In a world where beauty ideals are constantly evolving, crop tops have emerged as a symbol of body positivity and inclusivity. They remind us that fashion should be a celebration of diversity and a means of self-expression. So, whether you're curvy, petite, or somewhere in between, remember that you are beautiful just the way you are. Embrace crop tops and embrace yourself, because beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. You can find beautiful dresses in an affordable price  at creea.

[spicymancer]

OC DNA for Monster Researcher Eclair! Her original characterization was a lot more subdued and demure. Nagato Yuki-esque. Eventually she sort of ended up being much more proactive and earnest. Anyway you can find the original template here!

[kitsuneroach]

something ‘bout may makes it all feel better!

baby, summerland holds what i want right now…

it’s that time of year again! went to the beach!

[kareofbears]

"You know," Thomas starts, putting the flowers down on the sand as he rolls his sleeves up. "How you yelled at me, back in the Glade, because I wasn't helping out?"

A breeze ruffles his hair, longer than it was a year ago, and the tang of salt doesn't register anymore. "I know, I know. You technically didn't yell. To be fair, I was new, and it's not like I had someone showing me the ropes."

He kneels on the ground, in front of where the tombstone stood. This wasn't the boulder that Vince had set up in the beginning of Safe Haven's existence--this was smaller, flatter, bordering on where the sand meets the dirt. "Now, I feel like all I'm doing with these kids is showing the ropes."

Busying himself with rearranging the flowers, he rubs his thumb on a golden petal idly. "They're doing fine. Between me and the others, things are getting done. Maybe not as efficiently if you were here, but we're trying." He pauses. "I'm trying."

Thomas' voice doesn't shake, not anymore. How can it? It's just him and Newt. His voice never shakes with Newt.

Waves crash somewhere behind him. A bird chirps, its tune lively and bright. The world continues to spin, and it's a long moment before he speaks again.

"I'm throwing myself into work, Newt." His gaze tilts skywards. "I'm working, aren't I? I build homes, I teach, I train the others. There's food, so much of it, enough for years and for anyone who wants to start a family. Last night, I woke up because people were laughing so loud near my bed--laughing. I couldn't even get mad."

Careful not to mess up the floral arrangement, Thomas leans forward slowly until his forehead is pressed right up against the slab, stone cool to the touch. "How busy?" he wonders. "How busy do I need to be until this gets better? How much more do I need to do before it starts to get better? How much more do I need to give?"

When he doesn't get an answer, Thomas lets his eyes slip close. "I'm busy, Newt. I'm busy, and I'm trying, and I'm so fucking sad."

Eventually, Thomas raises his head. He presses his lips to the top of the tombstone, smiling wryly to himself. "At least I can actually reach the top of your head like this, right?"

He gets on his feet, brushing the sand off of his pants, feeling the sun beat relentlessly down on his skin. "Tomorrow, then. Maybe it'll get better tomorrow."

[thesunshinenotebook]

Thinking about how in the book Newt tried to separate himself from Thomas and Minho so they didn't have to watch him go mad, while in the movie he stuck with Thomas despite Thomas's protests because he wanted to save Minho. Book Newt kept himself away from the city so he wouldn't infect anyone while movie Newt broke into WCKD to save the immune there. Book Newt helped Kiasha and Dante to reunite with their family while movie Newt led immune kids out of WCKD. When he found out he wasn't immune, book Newt comforted Thomas while movie Newt hid the truth from him, at least for a while. Newt's actions in The Death Cure book vs the movie were almost completely opposite each other, but he did it all with the same goals and the same motives in each universe. All he wanted was to protect his friends and do something good with the time he had left.

[nomoreusername]

Care For You

Pairing:Gally x female reader

Summary:After Gally doubts how much you really care about him, you say something in your sleep that shows the truth.

Being in Right Arm was a lot of things, and easy was not one of them. It's worth it though. Besides, if I hadn't met them I wouldn't have met Y/N. She's great to be around. She's not a fan of emotion, is big on tough love, and at times painfully blunt, but I was the same way. We fit well together.

"Are you going to actually sleep tonight or are you going to wear yourself out some more?"She asked, from next to me. We were the only two out here on the balcony. We stayed here every night.

"I won't,"I said firmly.

"Mhm. If you say so,"She replied, in that tone. The tone that says 'I can tell you're lying.'

"You're not much better,"I reminded her.

"I never claimed I was. I just figured I would ask,"She shrugged. "Plus, it's not like I'm a great sleeper,"She added as an afterthought.

"Neither am I."

"And? Do you think that would stop me from asking? I worry about you more than I worry about myself."

I don't know how much I believe that. That's a pretty bold thing to claim. I know I felt that way, but I wasn't so sure she did.

"It's up to you. I'm going to try to get some sleep anyway,"She spoke up, walking inside. I just stayed there and looked at the night sky. It was the best way to clear my head. Clearing my head was my only shot at getting some rest.

♡ - - - ♡

After about an hour I decided to try and sleep. I quietly opened the door and passed by everyone's rooms. Mine was directly next to Y/N's. 

As I was by hers I couldn't help but wonder if she was actually getting some sleep. If she's not I may as well see if she needs anything.

"Gally,"She murmered in a tired voice as I opened the door. I was about to ask what was up when I realized her eyes were closed, and her breathing was steady. She was fast asleep.

I guess she wasn't kidding earlier. She truly does care about me. That means a lot because I care about her more than words could describe.

[valentinetypewriter]

Knife happy Medjacks

Masterlist

Word count: 723

The maze runner (platonic/unspecified) x Gn reader

I got this idea from this deleted scene

Jeff has to wrangle in Clint and Y/n, who after dealing with builders all day, start to agree that maybe amputation is the way to go

Today had been a particularly rough day for Clint, Jeff and I, the builders had started a new project today and with that brought many of those said builders into the Medjack hut with various injuries. Ranging from cuts, scrapes, bruises and the occasional broken bone. They may have been incredibly strong but the builders didn't seem all too bright sometimes.

We had just sent off one of the builders who managed to break his finger with a hammer when Clint decided to speak up “you know, maybe we really should start amputating them” I put away some supplies before looking over at him. “Well I mean it would certainly start teaching them to be more careful” he let out a quick laugh “it would also make our job a lot easier when they're building” the two of us laughed with each other before Jeff stepped in. “Ok no, we are not amputating them” I let out a sad groan “aww come on Jeff, don't you think they deserve it” Clint was quick to back me up “Y/n’s got a point, plus their stupidity is starting to get on my nerves”.

Jeff seemed to almost consider what we were saying before instantly shaking those thoughts away “NO! Besides, how would we explain amputation just for some cuts and bruises?” Jeff simply rolled his eyes at us as he went back to sorting our supplies. Me and Clint looked over at each other, nodding and silently mouthing agreement's.

Organising all the new equipment took a lot longer than any of us would have liked, it wasn't easy when we had stupid teenage boys coming in every five minutes because they couldn't seem to distinguish nails from their own hands. We had just finished taking care of two guys, who had somehow managed to slice up their arms, working into lunch. The random influx of boys coming in was something that the three of us struggled to keep up with sometimes. The three of us sat around the hut all very exhausted. I sat myself down on a chair in the corner of the room, Clint was sitting on a stool with his head resting against his folded arms on the table next to him, it seemed like he was asleep. Jeff on the other hand had made himself comfortable on one of our operating tables.

“We should probably get some lunch before the others devour everything” Jeff said with a sigh, he seemed to hate his own idea of getting up. I groaned as I stood up from my seat, dragging myself over to Clint, shaking him gently “hey wake up buddy, we need to get some food” Clint rubbed his eyes before slowly pushing himself up from his seat. Though before any of us could even move a step, the doors were pushed open. Clint instantly flopping back into his chair, a tired and annoyed whine coming from him. I grabbed the Gigli saw off the tray of equipment, turning towards the door “what do you want?”

The two boys stopped in the doorway “woah put the bloody saw down, we only brought you some food” the three of us instantly perked up at Newts words. “Yeah we thought we'd bring you some food since you've been taking care of my guys all day” Gally sat down two trays of food on the table Jeff was sitting on while Newt handed the one he was holding to Jeff, who instantly started eating, though I couldn't blame him. I pick up one of the trays and handed it over to Clint before dragging a chair over to the table to start eating myself “well thank you boys, that's really sweet of you” Newt smiled at me as Gally ruffled my hair “don't mention it, figured you guys would need some rest, besides we're done for the day, to many broken hands” Gally shook his head and I wasn't quite sure if it was out of annoyances or disappointment.

“Well Gally and I will leave you three to rest, and don't worry we'll bring you some dinner too” Newt smiled at us before making his way out the door, quickly followed by Gally. A few moments of silence passed as we all ate before Clint spoke up “I still reckon we should start amputating”

[jabbawocky4eva]

[opabinia-fan]

NOOO KIM, HARRY, REMEMBER TO CHECK EVERY ROOM IN THE HOUSE BEFORE GOING TO SLEEP!!! YOU’RE GOIng TO GET EATEN BY ZOMBOIDS!!

[hungharrington]

can we leak our dms and discuss sexy sweaty runner steve bc i feel like everybody deserves to know what we know 🫡

him coming home in his lil runner shorts and a hoodie and he’s all flustered and sweaty 😵‍💫 try not to jump his bones challenge failed immediately!!

ali stoppppp 😩 like. i’m literally gonna lick the sweat from him, give him a goddamn sponge bath with my tongue and there would be nothing that could stop me. and oof if he’s sweaty enough it makes his hair is all funny, some of the sweat making it flop and stick together in little bits tehe <3

coming home from a run would go smth like this: enter steve, he’s tan, he’s sweaty, he’s wearing the worldest tiniest shorts again just to give a heart attack to every milf on the block when he goes by and calls out, “morning mrs. callahan!” all polite. he knows what he’s doing >:) he wanders into the kitchen to grab a glass of water where you’re sat, picking at the end of your breakfast. he can feel your eyes on him as he drinks, downing a whole glass of water and refilling it immediately, to down half of the second glass.

taking a breather, steve pulls his hoodie up to wipe the sweat off his face and water from his mouth and you have to quietly inhale a mouthful of drool as his tummy is exposed— rippling wildly as he tries to catch his breath. you fail to contain said drool and steve looks up just in time to catch you wiping at your mouth a little. he smirks, the bastard, and starts shucking off the hoodie— not even trying to hold down the shirt beneath it. it’s a show of tan skin, moles, and his hairy chest and you’ve somehow managed to clench yourself thighs tighter by the time he wrangles it off.

“i’m…” he starts, eyes looking you up at down. he licks his lips. “gonna have a shower. care to join me, sweetheart?”

you stand up instantly and steve snorts a laugh, completely endeared by how eager you are — loves to know that he’s so wanted by you. he plants his hands on his hips and wiggles his eyebrows at you, running his hand through his hair quickly. “okay, race you to the bathroom? go!”

he doesn’t give you a second, sprinting out of the kitchen and flying up the stairs, his runners high just making it easy as pie. he’s halfway up the stairs, when he hears your “steeeeeeeeeve!” and it just makes him grin, beginning to shed his shirt, dropping it carelessly in the hallway. his blue nike cortez’s go next, one after the other. “i’m getting naked!” he calls back, then laughs a little when he hears your feet thunder a little faster on the stairs. and you know, for someone who’s just been running for the last hour or so, he seems to have plenty of stamina in the shower…

[creeathelabel]

Crop Tops and Body Positivity: Embracing Beauty in All Shapes and Sizes

Introduction

Fashion is a form of art, and like any art, it should be a canvas for self-expression, regardless of one's body shape or size. In recent years, crop tops have emerged as a symbol of this progressive shift towards body positivity and inclusivity in the world of fashion. In this article, we'll delve into the fascinating journey of crop tops, their newfound relevance in the realm of body positivity, and how everyone can confidently embrace this versatile fashion trend.

The Crop Top Revolution

The crop top, once considered a trend exclusively for the slim and trim, has undergone a remarkable transformation. It has transcended its initial associations and is now celebrated as a garment that can flatter people of all body types. This evolution is a testament to the changing perceptions of beauty in our society.

Crop Tops for Everyone

One of the most beautiful aspects of the crop top resurgence is its inclusivity. No longer confined to a select few, cross tops are now designed to cater to a diverse range of body shapes and sizes. This shift represents a significant stride toward ensuring that fashion is a space where everyone feels seen and celebrated.

Crop Tops: A Confidence Booster

Clothing has the incredible power to boost confidence. Many individuals have shared their personal stories of how wearing a crop top with runner shorts helped them break free from self-doubt and body insecurities. It's a reminder that confidence is not about conforming to societal beauty standards but about feeling comfortable in one's skin.

Styling Tips for Different Body Types

The key to successfully embracing cross over crop top lies in understanding your body shape and selecting styles that complement it. For those with an hourglass figure, cinched-waist crop tops can accentuate curves. If you have a pear-shaped body, high-waisted bottoms paired with crop tops draw attention to the smallest part of your waist.

Breaking Stereotypes: Crop Tops for Formal Events

Crop tops were once reserved for casual outings, but times have changed. Today, they are making waves in formal fashion. When styled elegantly with maxi skirt with split or tailored trousers, crop tops can create sophisticated and graceful ensembles suitable for weddings, galas, and other special occasions.

The Rise of Inclusive Brands

The fashion industry has recognized the importance of inclusivity. Many brands now champion body positivity and offer a diverse range of crop tops that cater to various body types. These brands not only create stylish clothing but also promote the idea that beauty knows no bounds.

Body Positivity in the Fashion Industry

In recent years, the fashion industry has witnessed a paradigm shift. Influencers and celebrities have used their platforms to champion body positivity and challenge conventional beauty standards. This movement is not about celebrating one body type over another but about embracing diversity in all its forms.

Crop Tops and Self-Expression

Ultimately, clothing is a powerful form of self-expression. Your style reflects your unique personality, and crop tops or coral playsuit are a canvas on which you can paint your individuality. Don't be afraid to experiment with different styles, patterns, and colors. Let your fashion choices speak volumes about who you are.

Conclusion

In a world where beauty ideals are constantly evolving, crop tops have emerged as a symbol of body positivity and inclusivity. They remind us that fashion should be a celebration of diversity and a means of self-expression. So, whether you're curvy, petite, or somewhere in between, remember that you are beautiful just the way you are. Embrace crop tops and embrace yourself, because beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. You can find beautiful dresses in an affordable price  at creea.

[skinskisurf]

[zelcii]

\\°.• LUCKY, GALLY TMR // 2.5K WORDS

cw; yelling, angry, suspiciously calm gally, the death cure spoilers, blood, angst to quick comfort, kinda no fluff, subjectively shitty writing, gender neutral insert, guns, violence, swearing

sum; gally had died in your arms. you were with him during his final moments, feeling his breaths slow as soldiers dragged you away. yet now, impossibly, he stood before you. well and alive.

a/n; coping rn because all my work got wiped so im writing this to get it off my mind. hoping tumblr wont take this away from me eitherrrr <333 NOT PROOFREAD its a shit post so itll probably never be proofread

You cradle Gally in your arms, his body growing heavier with each passing second. His breaths come in ragged gasps, each one weaker than the last. His eyes, once fierce and full of defiance, now clouded with regret and resignation. Blood seeped from the wound in his chest as his blood stained the wooden stake that ran through him. 

Now and then, with teary eyes and bated breaths, you'd look up at the stake, wondering if pulling it out would help him, but something inside you screamed not to touch it. Telling you that you could make it worse. Blood stained your hands and clothes, but you barely noticed. All your attention was focused on Gally’s face, his eyes on yours.

You whispered in chants, your voice tinged with desperation, each word dripping with panic and resentment. The syllables trembled on your lips, the anger laced between each word almost palpable. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, the pain surging through your shoulder. The anger and hurt you felt poured out in those whispered words.

He tries to speak, but only a faint whisper pushes past his lips. "Don't… leave," he manages between large gasps of air, his voice barely audible. You glare at him.

Behind you, the boys huddled around Chuck, who lay in a pool of his own blood, but as both he and Gally fell to the floor mere seconds ago, it was only natural for you to run to the blonde.

Tears ran down your face, having started the moment you left the Glade. Gally stood opposite you, his stance firm and resolute, while you stood at the entrance of the Maze, a place you would usually avoid at all costs.

He raised his voice, passionately declaring that he, along with all the other Gladers, belonged in the Maze and that we should've been thankful to live within the safety of its towering walls. His words were filled with conviction, each one driving a deeper wedge between the two of you, tearing you further apart as every word came across as absurd. As he spoke, you felt a pang in your chest, your heart breaking at the realisation that he wasn't going to leave with you, and that there was no chance that you were going to stay with him.

Your vision blurred with tears, and you could barely make out his determined expression. "Gally, please," you pleaded, your voice cracking. "There's nothing left for us here. We need to find a way out."

But he shook his head, his jaw set stubbornly. "No," he said firmly, walking up closer to you to stare you dead in the eye. "This is where we belong—nothing is waiting for us out there," Gally spat, his words nothing but bitter. "Leave if you want to, but don't expect me to welcome you back when you finally realise how wrong you are.” He spoke low, his spiteful words directed towards you and you only. “Don't come crawling back to me when you see that the only place that'll ever feel like home to you is with me. Out there, you're nothing."

You let a tear run down your cheek, never letting your eyes stray from his. Your shoulders trembled and your grip on your weapon tightened. His words rang in your head, etching itself into your mind. The weight of his decision pressed down on you, a heavy, inescapable burden. Nothing you could say or do would change his mind, and the realisation left you feeling entirely helpless and alone.

Though you'd like to believe that he had the guts to beg you to stay, to plead with you, or to fight for you, it would have been in vain anyway. Your decision was as set as his. Despite your yearning for his touch and the tears that streamed down your face, you knew you wouldn't stay. You were filled with the determination to escape, hoping only for a life beyond the walls of the Glade. You could imagine that after three years of hoping and praying, the Glade would soon begin to eat away at your soul and any chance at feeling whole. Gally's resolve and your determination clashed like unyielding forces of nature, both of you too stubborn to give in to the wishes of the other.

But even if he had begged, you would still have chosen to leave. Your heart ached with the weight of that truth, knowing that no matter how much you cared for him, the call for freedom was stronger. He must have known that too, seeing as an hour later, the boy you loved held you at gunpoint.

“What the hell, Gally?!” Newt shouted, raising his hands in a desperate attempt to calm Gally down from afar. “Put the bloody gun down.”

Gally's hands trembled, but his grip on the gun remained firm as he ignored Newt's protests, his eyes wild with fear as his gaze was locked on you and nobody else. "I-I can't let you go out there…" he said, his voice breaking and his hands shaking. His voice was low and strained as he continued, his grip shifting on the weapon. "Baby, you'll die out there. I can't—I can't lose you."

You stared at him, a smokey feeling of betrayal mingling with the weight of having to leave him. But the look in your eyes hurt him far worse. Your eyes narrowed at him with nothing but fear, your hands held up in surrender. "Gally… you're—you're stung," you pleaded, your voice steady despite the chaos inside. Your words also served to try and convince yourself that the love of your life wasn't aiming to kill you right then. "And I'm leaving… whether you come or not.”

Thomas took a cautious step forward, his voice softer now. "Listen to her, Gally. Put the gun down, a-and let's just talk, okay?" His words trembled, eyes locked on the gun pointed at the girl.

Gally's eyes darted between you and Thomas, the conflict within him painfully visible. For a moment, you thought he might lower the weapon, but then he shook his head, a tear slipping down his cheek. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. The words were barely out of his mouth when he pulled the trigger. The bullet tore clean through your shoulder, and pain ran through you like wildfire, making you stagger back in shock.

You cried out, your hand instinctively flying to the wound as your own blood oozed between your fingers. Almost immediately, Thomas pulled you behind him, yelling angrily at the blonde who now blinked down at his hands, horrified at what he'd just done.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Thomas shouted, his voice filled with fury and disbelief.

Gally's eyes widened in horror, his face pale. "I... I didn't mean to," he stammered, his voice shaking as he cursed at himself. "I just—I wanted to… holy shit."

Newt rushed to your side, pressing his hand against your wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding. His usual calm was replaced by frantic urgency. "Put the gun down, now," he ordered. He looked up at Gally, glaring at him with anger and betrayal. 

The next moments were a blur. When Gally refused to drop the gun, Minho, reacting swiftly, grabbed a wooden stake and hurled it at Gally. The stake struck him, and through the shock and pain, Gally pulled the trigger once more, the gun now aimed at Thomas.

Now you were there, crouched with your good arm wrapped around a boy you now feared. Angry tears stained his shirt as you looked down at him, a whirlwind of emotions tearing through you. You wondered why you even spent your energy on him, cradling him with such care, avoiding eye contact.

"You're so stupid." You wanted to yell at him, hit him, hurt him far worse than he could hurt you, but you couldn't find the strength. Your voice cracked and faltered under the strain of the sobs wracking your body, each one a painful reminder that you were bleeding out because of him. Pain and anger overwhelmed you, but your body felt weak and drained. All you could do was stare at him, tears blurring your vision, as you thought back to everything that happened before, trying to pinpoint when everything started to go wrong.

Gally winced at your words, his eyes guilty and pained. "I know, I know, I know,” he repeated over and over again faintly under his breath as he brought a trembling hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He opted to rest his hand on your cheek, and you let it rest there for a moment before you shoved it away, letting him slowly fade away as you repeated hurtful ‘I hate you's under your breath. 

Soon, men in protective gear dragged you away, throwing you into a helicopter. The world blurred through your tears. You could still feel the warmth of Gally’s blood on your hands, or maybe it was your own; you weren't sure. The weight of his body, the final, shuddering breath, haunting you, a stark reminder of how lonely you finally were. The soldiers' voices and the chaos around you faded into the background, leaving you with your grief and confusion.

That was months ago.

Before, you would cry nightly, the same three words playing on your lips like a broken record. "I hate you," you'd whisper to the empty room, the words directed at no one but yourself. Sometimes, when you'd wished you had stayed in the Maze, you'd think of Gally and all the things he said before you'd left. The pain of losing so many people so abruptly was raw and all-consuming, a constant reminder of the heartbreak and helplessness you’d felt in the moment.

But now, time has passed. Your hair has grown, your pain has numbed, and you healed inside and out. The sharp edges of your grudges have softened, numbing into a dull ache that you can manage. The nights no longer bring tears, but rather a quiet reflection on how far your group has made it, surviving both the Scorch and the Flare. Though sometimes your eyes would sting at the notion that you were slowly beginning to forget what he looked like. Despite everything, you were content with how you managed, getting by day by day, hour by hour.

Later you'd find that life had other plans.

The world spun around you, leaving you dizzy and disoriented as you stared at the boy standing strong before you. You blinked, distrust evident in your eyes. It must have been a play of shadows, a trick of illusions, because it had to be utterly impossible that you were seeing Gally standing in front of you; alive and well.

The moment he took off his mask, the boy locked eyes with you, a silent plea for understanding in his gaze that you had never seen before. With a swift motion, he dropped his gun and kicked it far away, something he could have done a very long time ago. 

You stood idly, paralyzed by your own mind racing inside you. In an instant, Thomas lunged at him, rage fueling his movements. He threw merciless punches at the boy who used to braid your hair, each blow a release of pent-up anger and betrayal.

The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed through the air, mingling with the distant hum of other men that surrounded your group. You watched in a daze, memories flashing before your eyes—the quiet moments of intimacy, shared laughter, the warmth of his hands against your hips as he held you close. Now, those same hands were raised in a futile attempt to protect himself from Thomas’s relentless onslaught.

Once Thomas was forced to pull away, a wave of frustration crashed over you. Your body began moving forward towards the man. You bent down to grab his gun from the floor in your stride, your movements fueled by fear that you were simply seeing things. Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, but you stubbornly held them back. Gally signalled to the men around him to stand down as you faced him.

Your heart ached with the weight of everything you thought you had gotten over already; the betrayal, the pain, and the confusion all churning inside you like a dreadful storm. Each step felt like it was dragging you deeper into your emotions, but you couldn't stop. The desperation to find answers, to make sense of the chaos, pushed you forward.

Swiftly, you raised the gun and pressed it against him, right on his shoulder. You gripped the trigger firmly, staring him directly in the eyes.

Words that hadn't left your mouth for months began to flow out of you like muscle memory. Words you thought you'd forgotten, words you wished he never said.

“This... is where we belong. Nothing is waiting for us out there," you sobbed, your lip quivering as you spoke between staggered breaths. "Leave if you want to, but don't expect me to welcome you back when you finally realise how wrong you are.” You were yelling now, your voice strained as you recited the words he said so long ago. You dug the gun into his shoulder, one of his hands resting gently on yours, while the other rubbed circles into your hip like he used to. “Don't come crawling back to me when you see that the only place... that'll ever feel like home to you is with me." Your throat ached. "Out there... you are nothing."

You staggered as he held your gaze, his attention locked on you and nobody else. You choked through a sob, yelling out in pain. Those three words played on your tongue once more. But you couldn't bring yourself to pull the trigger.

You let the gun drop to the floor as your knees buckled beneath you. Gally’s arms wrapped around you in an instant, and you let them. He cradled your head carefully, whispering soft ‘I know's into your ear as he weaved his fingers through your hair.

Then, amidst the soft whispers you shared, your voice cracked, speaking weakly.

“I don't hate you,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper against his chest.

“I know, I know,” Gally continued to repeat, his arms wrapping around you tighter, as if trying to hold together the pieces of your shattered hearts.

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears. “But I should hate you,” you confessed, the words tinged with all the pain and confusion you left bottled up for so long.

“You should,” he agreed, his voice filled with regret. He pulled away slightly, bringing one of his hands up to gently push a strand of hair behind your ear before letting you rest your face in his palm. His touch was tender, his eyes deep with emotions that he would've hidden from you in the Glade. “Just means I'm the luckiest man in the world that you don't.”

praying this'll save 🙏🙏

thanks,

claire.

[spndxjck2]

[joan-of-arse2]

short hair don’t care 🤘🏻