#thanks claire

[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.

[writercole]

Thanks to @clairewritesandrambles again, I have tribbles.

I'm writing this on my phone with no beta and no word count.

None of the other field agents wanted to partner you. They said you were too big to actually be of use and that you'd be made instantly. August didn't voice any concerns about that; he was just concerned that you wouldn't be able to handle yourself in a fight.

That's how you ended up in the sparring ring, your designer heels kicked off and rubber daggers in your hand, squaring off against the surliest man in the agency.

"You have to be faster," he snarled as he took his position again, squatting with his training knife in his hand.

"I'm going as fast as I can." Truthfully, you were distracted by the sweat pouring down your back and the glistening sheen on your partner's face. His normally perfect hair showed signs of fatigue, curling where it dampened and falling onto his forehead.

"Faster."

He lunged towards you and you dodged out of the way but he was quick to spin and come back at you. Your reaction time gave you just enough advantage to sweep his legs from underneath and straddle his hips with your fake blade at his throat.

A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth and he tipped his head slightly. "Nicely done. Now what?"

"I've got you flat on your back. If you were an actual enemy, I'd have slit your throat."

He nodded twice and then, in a move so fast you swore it was magic, he lifted his hips and tossed you to the side, switching your positions and pinning you down with his thick thighs.

As you squirmed, your eyes fixed on his, you felt a growing hardness against you. You felt your eyes widening as his smirk grew.

"August?"

"You didn't think I was training you for free, did you?"

[thinking-destiel-thoughts]

So I have a friend who hasn’t seen the show but lets me spam them with Teen Wolf stuff whenever I feel like it…

The response I got to a Sterek scene was that Derek had a look of “oh my god what trash can do i need to pull my raccoon coded bf out of *this* time”

And honestly…that’s kind of the best description I’ve ever heard about Sterek in Derek’s POV

[feralkwe]

"hey, b, how's that silly little au fic going?"

[cahleir]

PASSING BY | MILLARDNULLINGS

contentwarnings: millard's pov, fem!reader, major character death

angst/fluff

Every morning, at exactly 8:26 AM, you found yourself running a full sprint toward the home. You kept your arms at your side to ensure that you wouldn't trip in your floral dress as you ran.

I'd wait for you on the third step, a few inches away from a pot full of Fiona's lavender astilbes.

"Hello, gorgeous," you'd say with a giddy laugh.

"M'lady," I'd match as I took your hand in mine. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, you know," you'd smile with a knowing look in your eyes. "Just passing by!"

We'd walk along the shore of Cairnholm's beach and swim along the shallow end right beside the lighthouse.

By 9:00 AM we would lay in the sand. Your fingers thread through my hair in a way that made me believe you could see it.

I look up at you as you eyed the crashing waves with a childlike wonder. You glowed. Bits of sand were still washed up in your hair, but it didn't seem to bother you in the slightest because that bright smile of yours wouldn't go away no matter how hard you tried to hide it.

Moments like these made me so happy, so grateful to be alive with you. I told you nearly everything. I told you how I was almost finished reading a book you lent me. I stumbled to put my love for you into words because you needed to know. I told you everything I remembered about what happened 'yesterdays'. But I couldn't tell you about my yesterday. I couldn't tell you about how Jacob Portman had supper with us again last night, or how Miss Peregrine's suddenly stopped asking about you. I couldn't tell you most things because it wouldn't matter. You wouldn't remember.

The next day, I was back on the third step, a little earlier than I should've been. I watch as the rest of the kids did their handful of chores.

In ways, I was lucky. Instead of cleaning up the gutter, I get to spend the whole day with you, everyday.

"Hello, gorgeous," you said smiling, offering a hand. I took it and hoisted myself up with little to know grace.

"M'lady," I gave you a lingering kiss on the cheek as our hands intertwined before we set off to the beach. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, you know," I did know. "Just passing by!"

As we walk along the shore once again, I made sure to keep you closer to my side. Your sundress fluttered in the wind and your cheeks were dusted with pink.

I couldn't help but wonder how you were holding up outside of the loop. Did you remember me? Do you miss me the way I miss you? You're probably in your late eighties by now.

I looked to you, heart full of hope. Were you still alive?

When supper rolled around, I walked you home in the dim lights of Cairnholm. With a kiss good night, and a silent plea for a little more time, I'd run back home for the last meal of the day.

At supper, Jacob had joined us once again and I watched with silent resentment at the looks he shared with Emma. What made it worse was Hugh and Fiona holding hands under the table right across from me. I chewed up my greens and kept my head down. They don't understand how lucky they were. None of them could. Because during the morning after reset, Hugh would help Miss Peregrine with the laundry, Fiona would tend to the garden, Bronwyn would watch over the children, and I would be sitting on the third step, inches away from Fiona's lavender astilbes.

"Mr Nullings," Miss Peregrine said softly, standing beside me. "I'm afraid I have some terrible news."

She sat me down in the parlor with the windows drawn and the doors shut, a worrisome look to her and a fairly ridged posture.

"I hate to keep things from you, and I'm sure you've noticed," Miss Peregrine kept her voice low and her head to the ground as she walked back in forth, a limp in her step.

Miss Peregrine told me all about how you had fallen ill. She'd given me permission to see you outside the loop with Jacob.

We exited the cairn and headed straight to your house, a cottage hidden at the edge of Cairnholm's cozy town.

I knock softly on the door and what answered was a series of frail coughs before you responded with a shakey, "Come on in, the door's always open, dear."

Jacob decided to stay on the porch, inststing on giving us time alone.

Your house stayed the same, lacy curtains and all, but the warmth, your warmth, was missing.

I sat on a stool beside the bed where you laid, your hand in mine. Your easy were still closed and i couldn't help but feel nothing but regret.

I regret not waking up to you in the morning. I regret all the days I spent withering away in the loop instead of withering away with you.

When you opened your eyes, I couldn't stop the sting behind my eyes when you flinched away. You still had the same beautiful eyes, but with crows feet around the edges to reflect your age. You still had the same long hair, but it was accompanied with grey at the roots. I regret not growing old with you like I promised.

"Hello, gorgeous," I said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Millard..." You said, a strain in your voice as I watched tears begin to gather in your eyes. "I've missed you," I gave your hand a soft, reassuring squeeze. I wasn't going anywhere this time.

"Well, lucky for you," I felt myself start to tear up and I never in my life hoped as much as I did now that you could see the way I looked at you; lovesick. "I was just passing by."

A/N Hope you enjoyed even a little bit of this fic because I was winging it the entire fucking time.

[jack-kellys]

I feel like this might be too close to your Only So Far au loll but let’s go!

send me two aus and i’ll mix em into idea soup!

that’s fair… but i believe in diversity in heist stories so not all hackers are magical. just in only so far 😌 )also as always go read only so far it’s in progress but woah look at all this world lore i posted and an action packed first chapter)

kid of surprised hacker au was an option bc hacking isn’t an au its a skill that is within certain aus? hence only so far/heisting aus. but let’s blow it up into one. 

“tech” au where firewalls are much more dangerous than simply blocking out digital threats and a mainframe is a whole fortress. kind of- think of it like D&D-ing the digital world? 

futuristic fantasy world (me & my futuristic fantasy worlds..) where humans reign supreme and more fantastical species are in lower classes etc. jack, a humanoid draconian (mixed species are DEFINITELY frowned upon even in nonhuman circles), and his group of friends go on these quests to hack into certain humans’ homes to try and gather intel on how to dismantle the caste system. lots of these homes, especially if they’re government workers, have mainframes installed into them that act as like… dungeons. so if you try and break into the firewall you get sucked into the mainframe/dungeon. 

jack & the gang are prepared for these, as these mainframes have become the norm to keep out hackers. since this is a d&d adjacent au they have cool weapons to fight off weird digital enemies within the dungeon, while one of the group tries to hack through the dungeon to shut it down before it overwhelms them and get the data they need. 

the hacker of the group is a human david jacobs! his little brother les is half ice elf, and during an early on hack into the jacobs’s home, jack & his crew discovered this secret. david pledged to help their cause if les’s heritage remained a secret, and davey’s been on the team ever since. since he’s human, he has access to technical classes and overall human society, so he’s real good at what he does. he’s also a good fighter but that took a fair amount of practice with jack. and ofc davey believes in The Fight now that he’s in it, and ofc he’s now even more willing to take risks than jack bc this is newsies and that’s how davey is.

alsoo the things that happen to you in these digital dungeons do affect people irl- like i think crutchie got entangled with a virus bad enough to paralyze his leg, lucky it didn’t kill him kind of thing. 

i also think it’d be innnteresting if the whole pulitzer family was mixed, actually, and abused their privilige of looking human while having fairy abilities (instead of using that for The Fight like davey and les) to move wayyy up in society. and katherine just thinks she’s human. dramaa

i think that’s all i got without actually researching d&d classes !!

[horsemage]

meant to get drunk & cry tonight to experience emotional catharsis but then I had too good of a time with my roommate so I’m in a good mood and tired and when I told them that they said “ohhhh :( do you want me to punch you or something?”

[thinking-destiel-thoughts]

This is funnier than it should be to me

loving this character isn’t enough I need to unhinge my jaw and sink my teeth into them 

[thefrsers]

Caitriona Balfe officially wrapping Outlander and saying goodbye to Claire Fraser for the final time🥹😭

[cellphonehippie]

i don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush (but i don’t like a goldrush)

[robindaydream]

A Few Days After A SLARPG fancomic

minor SLARPG spoilers contained within

[zelcii]

SWITCHED: TABLE OF CONTENTS (TMR)

sum; This series follows through what I believe happened in the Glade before Thomas through the perspective of an additional character: Florence Nightingale. Imagine the terror and trauma I can put her through. The girl in the Glade. Let her suffer.

a/n; finally gonna start this. expect slow updates but long reads. some aspects will be a little different from the book and the movies so I can work with the material better, but it's primarily book accurate. all my writing energy will probably go to this so... yeah :)) this'll also have aspirations of becoming a gally fic but the plot doesnt revolve around their relationship.

SWITCHED FAQ, OC MOODBOARD

№1 The Glade: Life before Thomas

cw; swearing, lgbt themes (nothing big), character deaths, one sided love, deep trauma, plot twists, no lovey-lovey yet, a mix of book-canon/movie-canon/claire-canon elements, cursing, slow-paced, etc...

1. Box, 1.9 words, 09/03/2024

2. Nick, 2.2 words, 09/03/2024

3. Bonfire, 09/00/2024

4. Names, 09/00/2024

5. George, 09/00/2024

№2 The Maze Runner: The End Begins

cw; swearing, lgbt themes (nothing big), character deaths, one sided love, deep trauma, plot twists, no lovey-lovey yet, a mix of book-canon/movie-canon/claire-canon elements, cursing, slow-paced, etc...

1.

№3 The Scorch Trials + The Death Cure: The Final

cw; swearing, lgbt themes (nothing big), character deaths, one sided love, deep trauma, plot twists, no lovey-lovey yet, a mix of book-canon/movie-canon/claire-canon elements, cursing, slow-paced, etc...

1.

Rewritten:

1. The Ivy, 5.6K words, 04/08/2024 THE GLADE

2. Bonfire, 4.6K words, 04/08/2024 THE GLADE

[zhouxiangs]

MY STAND-IN (2024) | Episode 1

[tinartss]

you can hear it in the silence

[saltybenchday]

Important to remember that MARRIAGE is between:

ONE English Lord

ONE bisexual ginger

And ONE outspoken woman who regularly gets accused of being a witch

[mutejester]

If you’re taking PL requests, could you Claire and/or Dimitri?

White hat besties!!!!!

I like to think he gave her that hat, so she can walk around incognito. Or just to match :)