#TMR 2021

[nature-hiking]

Clouds creeping up the mountains - Tour de Monte Rosa, July 2021

photo by: nature-hiking

#clouds #fog #mountains #valley #landscape #TMR #Tour de Monte Rosa #alps #long distance trail #wilderness #hiking #trekking #nature #photography #original photography #photographers on tumblr #TMR 2021

[worldsbiggestnerd101]

so i rewatched pixar's "luca" the other day and i realized that ercole is probably one of the fruitiest characters alive which is funny considering the metaphor for queerness the movie really is and how he acts as a homophobe in that metaphor but then i realized he's italian and that could just be how italians act (i wouldn't know) and in that moment i understood the entire point of the song "gay or european" thank you and goodnight

#em rambles #luca #pixar luca #luca 2021 #luca pixar #wrote this right before sleeping while suffering a tension headache from the sock curlers i have in my hair #anyways thank y'all and goodnight i need to get up at 6am tmr

[kareofbears]

a fragile line, chapter 1/3

Newt and Thomas always had something going on—even in the Maze, Gally knew right away. But never did he think it would turn into something like this; a devotion fermented. A reverence that made the chapel look blasphemous in comparison.

—

Or, as they infiltrate WICKED, Gally notices the shift between Newt and Thomas.

read on ao3 or below the cut

The worst day of his life was when Gally realized he still fucking cares.

He always cared. Probably cared too damn much, back in the Maze. Cared so much it tore them all apart.

They had lost everything in the span of days. Crops burned, walls torn down, weapons picked up only to be dropped, dripping in blood. Gally tried telling everyone to stop breaking the rules, but nobody listened, and people died. Boys, his boys, died. And he tried so hard to save as many of them as possible, took that burden on himself, tarnished his palms with invisible callouses from the effort of forcibly keeping them all together. There's nothing worse than having the hands that helped kids out of the Box be the same ones to etch their names off the wall.

Gally was younger, then. It feels like years have passed even if it's only been months since it all went down. He was struck with terror, confused, determined to find answers, and most of all, he was angry. Angry with grief, angry at the situation, angry at change. Of course, nobody pissed him off more than the Greenie, sauntering around and making big speeches like he built the damn Glade himself. And guess what—Gally was right about that, too.

But what really got to him, what really made his nerves light up with fury and sink deep into his bones was that nobody listened to him about the Greenie. Yeah, Gally can see now that he was a massive dick back then, but all of his worries were valid. Thomas was dangerous. Thomas was working with WICKED. Thomas did lead people to dangerous situations without thinking things through or considering the consequences. And nobody questioned that, because they were making progress on the Maze for the first time ever.

It's not something he'll ever say out loud, but damn the Maze. Damn freedom. What the hell is the point of fighting your way out when you see the bodies lined up behind you? What's the price of escape? Too high. It would always be too high for him.

When they left him there, bleeding out on the floor of some busted up WICKED lab with a meter-long spear sticking out of his chest—Minho did always have one hell of a throw—Gally cursed every single one of them. Croaked out their names with whatever breath was left in his lungs, lips tracing the syllables in a haze of red and hate. Was still mouthing it when Lawrence's guys found him.

Months later, slouched on top of a combat vehicle for a routine trip of the Last City's outskirts, he sees them.

They looked like shit. Clothes that have been through the ringer, hair matted with grime, every inch of their skin covered in soot and who-the-hell-knows what, and eyes blazing with something only anguish from the Scorch and running from WICKED can bring to someone.

He wanted so badly for that same, familiar hurt to rise. That thorn on his side that he convinced himself would never leave, the phantom spear in his chest to make itself known. He waits for the anger to rear its ugly head again, like it always has. The need to feel hate.

It doesn't come. What does come, unfortunately, is knee-buckling relief.

They're alive.

After all this time, even after they left him behind to rot, they're Gladers. They're boys. They're Gally's boys, first and foremost. He protects his own until his last breath. For better or for worse, he still gives a damn about these guys.

If he's going to care, he's going to do it properly this time. And with these shanks? This is going to suck. It's going to be hell. But Gally doesn't do things in halves.

—

“Words?”

“Circulation. Novel. Badger.”

Thomas nods, taking a bite of his apple as he writes into that beaten up notebook of his. “Looks good today, too,” he says approvingly between chews. "And you're not—"

"I’m fine. Don't feel any worse than I did twelve hours ago," Newt cuts in, amused. "I feel bloody sparkling, Tommy. What's the next set?"

Gally watches as Thomas continues writing, brows furrowed in concentration. The three of them are sitting underneath the awning of the chapel's entrance, shielding themselves from the morning sun's abnormally hot rays, making last-minute preparations for when they head into the Last City tonight. Frankly, he was glad for it. Already they've lingered for too long, the paranoia of timing itching at his skin.

"Next words are 'narrow, switch, illusion,'" Thomas replies, closing his book shut. "Don't forget."

"I'll try my best," Newt says drily. "Can we move to actual business now, doctor?"

Thomas leans over and knocks on the wooden door, hard, taking another bite of his apple. "Brenda. Get out here."

Immediately, the door swings open and she peeks her head out, bob bouncing as she squints. "Done flirting?"

"Never," Newt says easily, scooching over so she has room to sit. "Lucky us, the doc cleared me to join the grown-up conversation."

Part of the last-minute preparations, apparently, is this. The Greenie playing Medjack and clearing Newt for a clean bill of health every twelve hours with little memory tests.

It's easy to make fun of, which Newt never hesitates to do. But when Gally first saw them doing it, saw Thomas' stone-faced expression as he insists on checking Newt every time, he's reassured, just a little. He still has his reservations towards the Greenie, probably always will, but if there's one thing they can both agree on, is that Newt's health isn't something to fuck around with.

Brenda flops down between him and Newt, giving Newt a side-hug and raises her fist towards Gally. Unhesitatingly, he bumps it with his own.

"Okay," Thomas swallows, passing the fruit to Newt, who takes his own bite in turn. Despite fatigue prevalent in his posture, Thomas’ voice is sure. "We're heading out tonight. The objectives are saving Minho, busting out twenty-eight Immunes, and taking the serum from the vault. We're taking the tunnels, like we did the first time." The way he's reciting the plan feels clinical, worn out, the same way sharp rock smooths down after years of being under rough waters. "Brenda's getting the bus for the kids with Fry's help—"

"Why isn't Fry here?" Gally interrupts.

"He's scavenging the place for something to mark the road with." Thomas slumps against the pillar like it was the only thing holding him up, before straightening again. At Gally's nod, he continues. "Newt, Gally and I are going in with Teresa to the main building. Gally and I will take point, Newt stays a few steps behind us as backup."

"Just a few?" Newt clarifies, coughing a little before biting into the apple.

"Just a few."

Newt’s teeth sink into the core, a piece falling with a loud crunch. There's still a hint of bruising still smudged just above his cheekbone; the only remnants of the mysterious black eye that appeared before they all had dinner a few days ago.

"Just a quick chat with Tommy," Newt answered when Gally raised a brow at him then. "Little trouble in paradise, just had to let out some steam, is all. You know how we are."

The thing is, Gally doesn't.

Individually, the two of them are pretty much the same. A lot happened in six months, and he'd be a liar if he said he's the same shank that was tearing his voice out in the Glade. Thomas is impossibly more difficult now, but he always was. At his core, though, he's still the brave, overly-observant idiot he pulled out of the Box. Newt's still the embodiment of wit, the patron fucking saint of composure, even if that's starting to chip away because of the Flare, judging by Thomas' twin bruise on his jaw.

But the two of them? As a unit? Gally has no idea who these bastards are.

It's as if the universe took a pinch of Thomas and a pinch of Newt, threw it in a barrel, and topped it with a gallon of deranged before stirring. A mixture of whatever the hell the two of them are now. It's something Gally doesn't want to put much thought into, because something about the two of them feels almost threatening. Warning bells, the presence of danger when something involves the two of them.

Newt and Thomas always had something going on—even in the Maze, Gally knew right away. But never did he think it would turn into something like this; a devotion fermented. A reverence that made the chapel look blasphemous in comparison.

Even asking Brenda about it, once, didn't help clear things up. "Those two? The only thing I get about them is that you should just get out of the way before you do something stupid."

"What, you make a bad comment or something?"

"Kissed Thomas." A pause. "Yeah. Don't ask. Newt laughed it off but Thomas wouldn’t speak to me for days."

Gally refocuses back on the meeting, as Thomas continues. "—into Sub-Level 3. Get the serum, give it to Newt right then and there. Get the kids out, meet with Brenda, get picked up by Fry." He pauses before nodding, as if he were confirming his own plan with himself. That, paired with his deep eyebags, Gally has to wonder if this guy's slept at all since they interrogated Teresa a few days ago. "Good that?"

Two good thats and one sounds good. Looks like Brenda never picked up the Glader lingo.

"Okay. Be back by sundown. We leave at nine." Thomas looks over them, voicd curt. “Don’t be late.”

"What Tommy means to say," Newt chides. "Is do what you need to do. Get some rest, pack what you need. Take care of yourselves, because who knows when we'll get free time again, yeah? Go on, now." Newt turns to Thomas. "Dick," he says, but it comes out oddly affectionate. "Never did pick up on niceties, did you?"

Thomas shrugs. "Figured they'd appreciate efficiency."

Gally gets on his feet, fully intending to slink away somewhere and get in the mindset for the infiltration tonight when he hears Thomas call out: "Stick around, Gally." A mild thump sounds out, like someone getting swatted. "...Please."

He doesn't repress a sigh, but doesn't complain—he has a thing or two to say, anyway.

They wait for Brenda and Newt to leave. Gally doesn't let him have the first word. "You look like shit," he says bluntly. "You can't go in there when you look like you can barely stay on your feet."

Thomas shoots him a glare but doesn't bother getting up from where he's sitting. "I'll be fine." Gally keeps staring, and Thomas visibly deflates, curling in on himself a little. "I'll be fine after we talk."

"Okay." Gally crosses his arms and waits. "Anytime, Greenie."

He doesn't answer, and Gally has the urge to tell him to just spit it out, but then Thomas' expression turns solemn. "Be honest with me."

"I don't think I have it in me to bother lying to you, man."

"Would you choose Newt over me?"

The question stuns Gally to silence. "Feeling insecure?" he asks instead of answering.

Thomas ignores the jab. "You would, right?" he insists, eyes intense. "You must. He has three years over me. You built the Glade together, one of the originals. You respected him even when he disagreed with you during Gatherings, I remember. You and I, we were never close. Got on each other's nerves a lot." He tilts his head, considering. "Still do."

Gally hesitates, honesty catching him off guard. "Shit, Greenie," he sighs, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it before. They’ve made strides, him and Thomas. They’re not as cut-throat with each other like they were before, as much as Thomas tried to reignite the feud between them. Is it good? Fuck no, but it’s better than before.

Nonetheless, it’s nothing on the affinity that Gally had towards Newt.

Eventually, he nods. "Yeah. If it came down to it and I had no other choice, I would choose Newt over you."

He’s not surprised when Thomas relaxes, tension easing from his frame. "Good," he breathes out, flopping down to the hot concrete and closing his eyes. "So if it came down to it, you'd make sure Newt would get out of there, even if it killed me?"

Gally gives him a hard look. “You planning on dying out there?”

“I’m planning on Newt coming back alive.” When Thomas opens his eyes slowly, gaze sliding to him, his expression is almost unbearably vulnerable. "Please," Thomas says quietly, and he almost doesn't hear it. "Please."

"You asked me to be honest." A hum sounds out in reply. "I think if I got Newt out of there, but you didn't make it, there would be nothing left of Newt to save."

Thomas frowns. "Yeah," he agrees, a little too easily. "But he'd be alive."

—

Gally peers over Newt's shoulder, standing on his tiptoes a little to get a better view. "You choose which one you're wearing yet?"

"Red one, I think." Holding up the WICKED jumpsuits, he watches as Newt's eyes jump between the three choices. "I like a good pop of color."

"Well, I don't." Gripping Newt's shoulder, he grabs the plain gray jumpsuit, and pauses briefly when Newt tenses underneath his touch. "I'll take the boring one."

"Doing us all a favor, mate."

Gally glances at Newt—who gives him a mild, withdrawn smile—before turning his attention back down to the jumpsuit. Tracing it with his fingers, he studies it, unseeing. A sick sense of premonition tingling down his spine.

"Well," Newt says, "I'm gonna—" he jerks his head to the door, clearing his throat, and Gally really, really considers letting him get away with it. But he can't, not when they're leaving in a few hours. Not when the stakes are so high. Newt, of all things, can’t be considered a variable. But it might be too late.

"Newt," he calls, still directing his gaze at the jumpsuit in his hands. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

He stops in his tracks, turned away from Gally.

Dread grows in his stomach. Silence reigns for a long moment.

"No," he admits, finally. "But Tommy seems to trust you, so." Facing Gally, his smile, sickeningly foreign and apprehensive, is being directed right at Gally. "You must be a half-decent guy."

Gally laughs, because he knows Newt would want him to and he doesn't know how else to react. "Now I really know your memory's fucked." Hopping on top of a crate, Gally lets the humor drop from his voice, fist tight around the fabric in his hands. "How bad is it?"

That earns him a scowl, harsh and abrupt. "How the hell am I supposed to know the bloody details? I don't fucking remember."

"Calm," Gally placates. He has to constantly remind himself that, despite the fact that he hides it so well, Newt is sick. "Come on, man, we need to talk about this. You remember Thomas?"

Like a smothered flame, the fight immediately burns out of Newt. Carefully, he sits on the ground in front of Gally, crossing his legs. Gally wonders why Newt wouldn't just sit beside him when he remembers that he probably wouldn't want to sit next to a complete stranger. It stung, a little. "Yeah, I remember him."

"Does he know about this?"

"Yeah."

Gally narrows his eyes. "Really?"

"Yes," he repeats, exasperated. "You really think I can hide anything from that Tommy bastard? Especially about me and my—" he gestures at his head, circling a finger around his temple lazily. "I tried, mate, and that didn't work out for the two of us."

"Gally."

"What?"

"Stop calling me 'mate.' It's Gally. Just ask next time."

Newt scrunches his brows in concentration. "Gally," he stretches out, like he's hoping muscle memory of the name will kick in, a faint recognition flashing in his eyes. "It's kind of ringing a bell, now."

"Hope it's not alarm bells," Gally huffs. "How does the memory loss work? Are you going to be okay for tonight?"

"Not sure, it's kind of a new development. Sometimes I forget small details like what I ate for breakfast, and sometimes I forget you exist. Tommy's been trying to keep track of the progress with the little tests, but not sure that's doing a whole lot. Thinking that he's just obsessing over my health, like usual. As for tonight," he shrugs. "I have to be okay, don't I?"

"Newt."

"Gally," he groans out, matching Gally's tone. Looks like the memories are back; a quick recovery, for now. "I don't have a bloody choice. Besides, it's not that bad yet. It usually happens for a few minutes at a time and then I'm right as rain. So don't bother convincing me—"

"And I won't." During Gatherings, arguments with Newt had always been a losing battle, especially when the Greenie was involved somehow. Gally can count on one hand the times he's disagreed with Newt—this isn't one of them. "We need you out there," he says truthfully.

"Thanks," Newt says, eyes crinkling in relief, before morphing into a thoughtful expression. "Did Tommy say anything to you?"

Gally was shaking his head before Newt even finished. "Nope," he jumps down from the crate and walks out. "Not taking anymore bodyguard requests from anyone."

“Gally.”

Gally flips him off without turning around, mouth twisted unhappily. It’s a steep learning curve, but he thinks he’s starting to get it. Newt and Thomas are an old book that hasn’t been opened in years—you can’t separate the pages without risking both being torn in half. But what he wishes they knew is that he doesn’t want to have to choose between the two of them. He doesn’t like choosing lives, weighing the risks of success and death. There’s nothing more he wants than to leave that mindset back in the Maze. Especially between these two; they’re finally back in his life and they immediately get to talking about how willing they are to martyr themselves. Like they don’t realize how much this fucks with Gally’s head.

Just as the door is about to close, he hears Newt sigh, tired and frustrated. “Shit.”

—

"Punctual," is how Thomas greets him when he gets there ten minutes before the meeting time. He looks impossibly worse. Shoulders drooping and eye bags bordering on purple, he looks like he’s only standing on his feet through rage alone, as if it is only his heartache that propels him forward.

By now, the sun had long since set, replaced by a huge full moon that they ignored. They're both dressed in WICKED uniforms, masks in hand. He may not see it, but he knows both of them have weapons laced and hidden throughout their entire body like a second skin, like suits that he sees adults wear in the city. It flickers in his mind, sometimes, that in a normal life, they’d all still be too young to wear suits.

Gally snorts. "While you shanks were eating sand in the Scorch, I was in the military the whole time. Punctual made sure my ass didn't get beat."

Thomas' expression doesn't so much as twitch. "Makes sense," he says, effectively ending the conversation. Not that he minded. Greenie was a real stick in the mud nowadays. He almost prefers the hundreds of questions that spewed out of his mouth over the contemplative, fuming silence that's associated with Thomas nowadays.

“You always gonna be this much of an asshole?” Gally prods, because there’s time to waste and he’s never been afraid to ruin Thomas’ day.

“Well,” he replies, tone perfectly level. “By the end of tonight, I’ll either be the most pleasant, cheerful, carefree shank you’ve ever met—“ he lolls his head towards Gally, eyes dead. “Or I’ll be begging you to kill me.”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond. Footsteps, paired with the heavy thumps that only someone wearing a WICKED uniform can bring, paired with a throaty cough. "You alright, Tommy?"

The change was instant; it’s as if dawn broke at 8:56 pm. Thomas, the miserable, angry, short-fused Greenie, splits a grin brighter than the sun. A happiness sharp and abrupt and covetous that it felt like a weapon in its own right, an ax to grind so cutting that it makes the guns and knives strapped to their bodies feel like childrens’ toys. Ridiculously, Gally has the urge to take a step back out of its range.

“Could be better,” Thomas replies, reaching for Newt’s hand. One thing he’s grateful for is that these two always keep the PDA to a minimum. Small mercies. “Brenda?”

“Hauling our lovely Teresa over.”

As if on cue, the chapel doors barge open, Teresa and Brenda stepping out. If it weren’t for the sunken, lifeless expression plastered on Teresa’s face, they might have looked like two friends in a different life.

“Oh, and here you are,” Newt slips Thomas a folded piece of paper, clearing his throat. “Keep it somewhere safe.”

“What’s that?” Gally asks.

“Insurance. I’m supposed to give it to him, in case he—“ Thomas gestures vaguely, still unable to vocalize Newt’s sickness. There’s an emotion Gally can’t place scattered on his features. “Can I read it?”

“Sure,” Newt shrugs. “Nothing you don’t already know.”

He unfolds the paper, and it was quiet as they watched him read it. When he finishes, he looks up slowly. For some reason, Thomas looks overwhelmed.

New rolls his eyes. “I told you, it’s nothing you don’t already know.”

“Yeah, but still. It’s in writing.” With a care he isn’t used to associating with Thomas, he tucks the paper deep into his breast pocket. "Can I keep this?"

"No, that’s for me." Newt pauses, considering. "I'll write you your own letter, maybe."

Gally’s barely listening to them, much more interested in how Teresa looks like she just got her soul sucked out of her. “What’s wrong with her?” he asks Brenda.

“Beats me. Ever since the interrogation, she’s been out of it.” Cutting a glance at Thomas, “You have something to do with that?”

“You already know everything I did during the interrogation,” he says, hands up in surrender. “Haven’t even talked to her since then.”

Somehow, Teresa looks even more dejected after hearing that. An unforeseen benefit; she’s easier to handle this way. Gally catches Newt’s glaring at her, a mildly amused look etched into his eyes, and wonders how much is unforseen and how much is just Newt.

Turning his attention back to Brenda, he double checks his belt. Pistol, knife, dagger, radio, hacksaws, extra rounds. “Ready?”

Teresa’s head shoots up and blinks, suddenly alarmed. “Brenda’s coming?”

“Look who’s back from the dead,” Newt taunts, and Thomas frowns at him slightly. “You’re a bouncer now, are you? Of course Brenda’s bloody coming.”

“But isn’t she—?” Her gaze drops down to Brenda’s shin, where the Flare used to be etched. “She’s not getting treatment, right? Otherwise Newt would—“

Thomas sighs loudly, not bothering to look in her direction. “We need to go. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Where is she getting her serum?”

Gally looks at her like she’s lost it. “Do you think if we had any serum, we wouldn’t shoot that shit straight into Newt?”

Newt blows out a breath, eye twitching, and a tingle of premonition tingles along Gally’s nape. “Can we get a move on now? This girl’s just wasting our time. Don’t we have something better to do?”

Thomas gives him another long, long look. “Okay,” he concedes. “Let’s head out.”

Teresa opens her mouth, but Gally grips her wrist. “Haven’t you learned to just keep quiet?” he hisses, the question more genuine than he intended. It’s a wonder she’s still alive. “It’s a simple thing. Shut up. Get us in. And maybe Tom will hate you less.”

The venom in her stare could rival a Griever’s, but at least she doesn’t complain when they start walking.

—

The tunnel sucks. It always does.

It has a perpetual stickiness that seems to permeate into the aged bricks in the wall, a natural humidity that makes the heavy stink of a sewer rise and settle onto their clothes like a snowfall that Gally has only ever read about and has lost all hope of seeing in the sun-scorched world. With every step, an unnamable liquid would make their shoes squelch with a viscosity he doesn’t even want to think about; yet another thing to ignore if he wants to keep it together. It’s dimly lit, slippery, a nasty piece of work. The sound is strangely amplified there in a way he knows gives all of them hives—loud sounds get you attention. Attention gets you killed. Just how it works nowadays.

Thomas and Newt climb down first, then Teresa. Brenda gives him a dubious look, one foot on the ladder’s ring.

“What?”

Her tone is forcibly nonchalant. “Have a thing against going underground.” In the corner of his eye, he sees her twist her ankle this way and that. “You sure there’s nothing dangerous down there?”

Gally cracks a grin. “If you’re worried about Cranks, I think there’s technically one down there.” It’s the kind of joke that would get his teeth knocked out if he told it to Thomas, but it pulls a startled huff out of Brenda.

“Guess so.” Scraping something like a smile, she descends, and he follows her, closing the trap door with a thud.

Hopping down the rest of the way, his boots hit the ground with a splash. “Straight ahead,” he tells them, blindly reaching for the lever and pulling it up with some effort. Lights flicker on, bulb by bulb, as the tunnel stretches on for what seems like miles. “Let’s make quick work of this place.”

Thomas and Newt set the pace, a brisk walk that reminds Gally that Thomas was a Runner and Newt would still be one, in another life. Gally studies Newt’s leg from behind, nodding to himself when there’s only the barest stutter in his gait. He must have worked hard to train it up to where it is now.

“Anyone ever told you that you’re not as good at being a jackass as you think you are?” Brenda whispers beside him, soft enough that the sound doesn’t bounce against the tunnel walls.

Gally bristles. “No, actually, they tell me I’m worse than they remember.”

A scoff, then, loudly: “There’s only room for one brooding jerk in this group, and I don’t know if you can rip it from the lovestruck fools.”

“I heard that,” Thomas calls back, annoyed.

Brenda chuckles, before dropping her voice. “Listen, Gally. This tough guy act? It’s not doing anyone any favors. You don’t realize how quickly—” she falters. “How quickly it can go away.”

Irritation rises in him. “It’s not an act,” he rebukes, fighting to speak softly. “It’s more than that. You don’t think I know about loss? Give me a break.” He gestures to himself before Thomas and Newt, “What do you even know about this? Because, correct me if I’m wrong, it’s not really any of your damn business.”

“I’m the one who watched them for six whole months while you were gone,” she reminds him. “It’s not the Maze, but the Scorch is its own hell. It changes people, it changes priorities. And it’s also when Newt and Thomas became Newt and Thomas.”

He scrubs his face roughly. “And?” he prompts, because saying Who fucking cares? is probably rude.

“You can probably tell that they’re—” her lip twitches. “A little off.”

“Batshit insane?” he offers.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “And with how they trip over themselves to stare at each other, all I’m saying is that it’s nice that someone out there is watching where they’re going. Make sure their footing is alright.”

He gives her an incredulous look. “And that’s me?”

Brenda shrugs. “You and me. We can take shifts.”

Gally continues staring at her before throwing caution to the wind. “You still in love with him or something?”

It’s Brenda’s turn to be irritated. “Can’t you just accept the fact that some people aren’t ashamed to look out for their friends? Why do you have to make it weird?”

“Can’t you believe the fact that I’ve already tried looking out for my friends before and ended up with a stick in my chest?” His tone is more piercing than he wanted it to be.

She falls silent, and they walk for a few minutes with only the sound of their shoes slushing in sewer water and the muffled staccato of Newt and Thomas whispering with one another.

“I heard about that,” she says eventually. “It sounded deserved, if I’m being honest.”

Gally grunts, because she’s right and he doesn’t want to grace her with acknowledgement.

Brenda’s mouth quirks. “Who’s the sore loser now?”

Despite his best efforts, he cracks a smile. “Whatever.” And then, begrudgingly, “Yeah. It was deserved. But it was also—“

“Complicated?” Brenda finishes. “Look, man. We can grill those two all you want, but one thing about them is that they keep their shit simple and clean. There’s one priority: each other. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that. What you did is in the past, but you’re here for them now. Your hands are full enough as it is, so maybe—” she shrugs. “Try letting stuff go?”

There’s nothing to let go, he wants to retort.

I already let it go, he fixes.

I thought I let go already, he tries again.

I don’t think I’m allowed to let go, is what he actually wants to say.

A quiet, trilling voice, one Gally almost forgot about, made itself known. “You held them too tightly before.” Teresa mutters, eyes downcast. “So now you don’t even want to touch them now. Right?”

Bitterness coats his throat. “You, of all people,” he says, emotionless. “Don’t get to speak to me about that.”

He shoulders past Teresa, ignoring her. “I’ll go ahead and take the first shift,” he tells Brenda.

“That’s the Gally I’ve heard about.”

He scoffs without heat and has to jog to catch up to Thomas and Newt when he hears something that makes him stop in his tracks, liquid sloshing at his shin. Dread, cold and heavy, settles in his stomach.

“Narrow, beatle—no, it’s not beatle,” Newt’s back is to him, shoulders pulled in tight and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Narrow, hoax…”

“Newt,” Thomas speaks quietly.

“No, Tommy, just give me a minute. I swear I’ve got it.” Newt takes a deep breath. “The words are narrow, insight—fuck.”

“They’re just words,” Thomas tries mildly, but even in the poor lighting, Gally can see how his hands tremble. “Nothing more to it. It’s a stupid thing I made up, anyway.”

“It’s not stupid,” Newt hisses. “It was bloody important to you twelve hours ago, wasn’t it? Don’t go changing the rules on me now.”

Thomas places a hand on Newt’s chest lightly but firm. Taking a deep breath, movements exaggerated, shoulder rising and falling, Thomas holds eye contact with Newt. In the next set of breaths, Newt joins him; reluctantly at first, until the tension in his shoulders gradually relaxes, their chests rising and falling in time with each other.

“We good here?” Gally interrupts quietly.

Newt turns to him, meditative state seemingly broken, and for a second, he thought that Newt was going to have that distant expression on his face again, the one that says he doesn’t recognize Gally anymore. Expects to be met with gritted teeth and wild eyes and black veins. Gally readies himself. Anger, he can work with.

But Newt lets out a sharp breath and casts his eyes to the ceiling, visibly deflating. “We’re good here,” he sighs, and when he glances back down, his expression is sheepish. “Sorry.”

Gally nods, eyes flickering to Thomas, who reveals nothing.

“Come on,” Gally says, brushing past Newt, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Tunnel’s turning soon.”

—

The trickiest part of their journey into the city was always going to be outrunning the train.

“There’s too many of us to go all at once,” Gally announces, all of them hunched in a cramped tunnel with jagged rocks pressed against their palms. He speaks with a raised voice, the train whooshing loudly, the lights rhythmically lighting up their faces like search lights. “We should split this up into two runs.”

He studies each person and doesn’t hide a grimace. The dramatics of how to split this group of shanks is annoyingly complicated. “Me, Brenda, Newt. Greenie, Teresa. Sound good?”

Thomas opens his mouth, and Gally gives him an unimpressed look. “What is it now?”

“...Nothing.”

“Great.” Gally pokes his head out slightly. It’s almost time. “Brenda, Newt. Ready?”

They nod. “Don’t trip this time,” Thomas tells Newt, a shadow of humor in his voice.

“Nice to see you well enough to make jokes, Tommy.”

“Now!” Gally calls.

The three of them hop down, one after another in quick succession. With the rumbling of the next train behind them, they didn’t waste time with idle conversation again. They set out in a sprint, and Gally lets Brenda and Newt pass him, opting to take the tail-end this time. He expects their serious expression, unyielding even in how harshly they suck in their breaths, but Newt’s brows are ruffled in together as he passes Gally.

It goes smoothly, thankfully. The rubble doesn’t even get a chance to truly start vibrating until they were long up the ladder, slumped against the concrete walls to support themselves as they catch their breath. Gally stares at the ceiling, lets himself zone out for a few moments, waits for his lungs to stop stinging, before glancing to his right.

Newt is sitting up, spine ramrod straight, a tense hand on his holster and unblinking.

“Newt?” Gally asks slowly, starting to recognize that vacant look in Newt's eyes.

He watches as Newt’s focus darts between Gally and Brenda, lips moving silently. There’s a glint in his eye that leaves Gally uneasy.

“Newt?” Brenda repeats, levity gone. “What’s wrong with you?”

“How do you know my name?” Newt presses his back tighter against the wall, like he’s trying to escape. Escape from them.

Brenda and Gally share a look. “We’re your friends,” she starts.

It wasn’t the right thing to say. Newt tightens his hold on his holster. For a fleeting moment, he wonders if this is what Teresa felt during the interrogation. “I’ve never seen you before in my life,” he mutters, and Gally strains to hear him. “Not once.”

Gally slowly attempts to sit up, but Brenda subtly shakes her head. He settles back down.

“Where is he?” Newt breathes out, low and urgent. It’s faint, but there’s the softest hint of leather creaking, like Newt’s considering pulling out his gun. “Where’s Tommy?”

Sucking in a breath, Gally tries to reply—he’ll be here in a minute—when the next train whooshes past them, drowning out his response. In this sporadic lighting, Newt’s eyes burn bright, rapacious, boring deeply into Gally’s. The train fully passes them, and for a moment, darkness swallows them whole.

Then the lights flicker back on and Gally is staring directly into the barrel of Newt’s gun. When he speaks, it’s guttural, very nearly inhumane. “Where’s Tommy?”

Gally doesn’t flinch. “He’s coming,” he assures him, refusing to let his voice waver. “Maybe in ten seconds, he’ll be here.”

Newt presses the barrel closer, actually touching Gally’s forehead this time. “He wasn’t supposed to leave my side,” Newt retaliates, but it comes out unsure. “I know that much. We—we talked about that, I think.” For a moment, he shrinks on himself, before anger seems to seize him once more. “Where?”

A hand grazes Newt’s shoulder. “Hey—” Brenda murmurs.

The barrel leaves his forehead and is pointed at Brenda, but her draw is the quickest out of all of them. In an instant, both of them have their pistols pointed at each other, Newt shaking uncontrollably and Brenda calm, the only sign of her worry is from the downward tilt of her mouth.

Then, out of nowhere, Newt lowers his gun. “It’s been ten seconds,” he states abruptly. The whiplash leaves Gally reeling.

“What?” Brenda asks, lowering hers. “What are you talking about?”

“Tommy, he—“ Newt’s face scrunches, thinking. “He’s fast. I remember that much. It shouldn’t take him long. It’s not like him to be late. There must be something wrong.” The tunnel they’re in is cramped, but Newt tries to stand anyway, and suddenly collapses. “What’s wrong with this bloody leg…?”

In the back of his mind, Gally is vaguely impressed. Never mind forgetting Brenda and Gally; Newt forgot his limp, but is able to recall that Thomas can run faster than the average person. “You think Thomas is in trouble?”

Gally doesn’t hesitate—he foregoes the ladder and jumps down directly from the platform when he hears them, voices raised and Teresa clutching onto Thomas' arm like a lifeline. A flash of disbelief flares in his chest. How did Newt know?

“—You see that Brenda's fine? Can't you see there's—"

"I'll let this train run you over Teresa, I'm not fucking—"

"Please, this can save Newt's life—" Faintly, the screech of the train becomes audible, but the two of them pay no heed to it.

"Keep his name out of your mouth. You're the reason why his life needs to be saved—"

Gally doesn't even try to break into their argument. When he's close enough, he grabs Teresa's wrists and forcibly tears it away from Thomas. "I'm really starting to regret not taking Greenie's offer to just chop your thumb off."

"You have to listen," she starts, eyes shining with frustration, but the screeching is getting louder and louder. "The cure—!"

"How dare you," Thomas lashes out, ablaze. "Taunt the cure in front of me when you know I'd skin anyone alive to get my hands on it."

"The train!" Gally yells, but neither of them look at him.

"I'm not taunting, I know how much this means to you, and I want you—"

"And I don't, Teresa. I don't want you, I don't even want to see you, I can't stand to look at you."

Enough is enough. "Newt's memory is blanking again," Gally cuts in. "Has no idea who me and Brenda are."

Thomas whirls on him, Teresa completely forgotten. "Shit." Without warning, he turns and runs, the soles of his shoes barely hitting the ground before it's up again.

Teresa stares at his back for a long moment before turning to him. Heartbreak isn’t a strong enough word to describe the devastation on her expression. it's as if she doesn't hear the train that's rolling closer and closer to them. Or maybe she doesn't care. "Will you listen?" she asks him.

Gally gives her a blank look. "If you don't run now, you'll die."

He sets off, and he can't help the surprise he feels when footsteps sound behind him.

—

Curiosity gets Gally this time around. “How’d you know?”

Newt glances at him. By the time they got back, breathless and exhausted, Gally doubly so, Newt seemed to have found his memories again.

After a long moment of silence, Newt simply shrugs.

It would have been naive to expect any other answer.

#the maze runner #fic tag #newt #maze runner #TMR #thomas/newt #newtmas #a fragile line #ah shit here we go again #do you guys know when my last multichaptered fic was #2021 #for plainly in truth #isn’t that CRAZY #fever longing still #to all unaware this is a series! so please read the others first maybe #or not #be the master of your own fate

[newtsixtyfive]

Three Newts :)) (pls click/zoom for better quality!!)

#the maze runner #maze runner #tmr newt #tmr #tmr newt fanart #tmr fanart #the death cure #the scorch trials #my art #uhh three of them cuzz checking my designs #colors are wack and shading is wack cuz i reverted to like #2021 me or something #yes first newts hair is tied up in the back ik u cant see it

[mazegays]

i'll say "just fine"

Chapter One: some things you just can't speak about

Sometimes it’s all Minho can think about. He lays awake at night, watching Thomas sleep, always covered in at least two layers even on the hottest nights.

Why them?

Why did it always have to be them?

There used to be pictures on the walls: old, faded Polaroids from when their grandparents and parents pulled out their ‘back-in-fashion-years ago’ cameras. Digital, too, with the dates and events written on the back—sometimes careful, sometimes messy with their joy.

There used to be plants here, and the crack in the table has been there forever; no one can agree where it came from anymore.

Minho doesn’t know why this house is still allowed to stand.

It’s a sign of rebellion, maybe. By someone who sympathizes, even just a little, on the inside.

It’s his childhood home. He grew up eating dirt and mixing ‘potions’ in the now-ruined front lawn. He learned to bike and catch and run here, did his homework at the cracked table and eventually the desk in his room. Tried and failed to bake, multiple times, but got real good at making eggs in all forms. 

He and Thomas got married under what used to be a little apple grove, right in the backyard, at sixteen and fifteen. Before everything went wrong.

He takes what pictures he can save: Pool parties, homecoming, prom night, trying desperately to pretend the writing wasn’t on the wall that whole last year.

They should be in college. 

They should be in a little apartment.

They should be together.

He should have more than photographs.

A young Teresa, holding Chuck’s tiny hands. Newt and Alby, who eloped in a five-minute ceremony at the beach they grew up building sandcastles on.

Winston and Zart, planning. He remembers taking that one. Remember thinking ‘this is a moment history needs to record’.

He doesn’t know why he thought he would be the one who’d get to decide what went in the history books.

(he’s not sure history books are going to exist again.)

But he’s not here for pictures; he’s not here for memories.

Still, Minho takes the time to put them all in a folder carefully, making sure the corners aren’t going to bend when he puts it in his bag.

They’ll be good to have.

(he wishes he had a hundred, a thousand, a million more. he wishes he had his friends, his husband, his family back.)

The last time he was here, they were fighting. Fighting for their lives, screaming as dozens of people older and stronger, dozens of people who should have known better tried to kill them all.

Killed more of them than he likes to think about.

And took more than they killed.

He’s never going to find out what happened to most of them, he knows. He can try, but he’s one person. No one else wants to try again.

No one wants to come back here; there are ghosts in the walls.

It’s too bad they can’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know.

finish on ao3

#thominho week 2021 #thominho week #thominho #tmr fic #thominho fic #hurt/comfort #hurt thomas #hurt harriet #hurt sonya #hurt minho #hurt gally #hurt everyone tbh #sonyarriet #minho #thomas #sonya #harriet #gally #brenda #aris #jorge #tmr #maze runner fanfiction #maze runner fic #my fic #nix writes #day 4 #scars #day 4: scars #incomplete

[leveragehunters]

I'm putting my response to this in it's own post. Nothing but respect for the rightful criticisms of the situation described in those articles. The problem is that the articles by Danielle Cahill are grossly, almost negligently, misleading.

I'm not your lawyer and this is not legal advice, but I am an autistic Queensland lawyer who's pretty ticked off at Cahill.

Cahill's articles:

Autistic drivers could find their licences in legal limbo depending on where they live after new standards introduced

New national Fitness to Drive standards are 'discriminatory' and 'humiliating' for autistic drivers, psychologists say

Short version:

If you're autistic you do not automatically have to obtain a medical clearance to hold a Queensland Drivers Licence and there is no 'list of reportable conditions', much less one that includes autism.

Long version with receipts:

The first article purportedly cites a Department of Transport and Main Roads (Transport) spokesperson who they claim said: "…all autistic drivers in Queensland have since 2012 been required to obtain a medical clearance from a doctor to show they are fit to drive." It also says: "In Queensland, the Department of Transport and Main Roads (TMR) requires drivers to obtain a medical clearance form from a doctor confirming they are fit to drive despite being autistic."

The second article says: "According to the state's Department of Transport and Main Roads (TMR), autism was added to the list of reportable health conditions in 2012."  Oh, but wait, what's this from just a little further up in the same article? "A TMR spokesperson told ABC News that "there is no specific legislation that states that people with autism cannot drive".

Let's talk about that specific legislation

Despite what the spokesperson said, there was no change to the law in 2012. A new Transport Regulation, which contains the law about medical clearances for Queensland drivers licences, was, however, passed in 2021. (link to the Regulation)

Typo or ignorance? Why not both.

The 2021 Regulation did not substantively change the law. The new Regulation was a consolidation, modernisation, and streamline of multiple pieces of overlapping legislation. (Explanatory notes)

'Jet's Law', which sets the rules for driver medical clearances, was first introduced in 2008. (Ministerial Statement). It was moved from the old Regulation to the new 2021 one essentially unchanged.

Jet's Law in chapter 3, part 6, division 1 of the 2021 Regulation

Jet's Law as passed in the previous Regulation (scroll down to page 64)

The law in Queensland re: medical clearances is the same as it was in 2008. The only changes were to language, consistent with modern drafting standards, and the addition of a requirement to not drive until you've given notice if a condition develops or worsens.  

What does Jet's Law say?

Section 177 of the 2021 Regulation states:

A person who applies for the grant or renewal of a Queensland driver licence must, when making the application, give a notice to the chief executive about any mental or physical incapacity that is likely to adversely affect the person’s ability to drive safely.

Key words: any mental or physical incapacity that is likely to affect the person's ability to drive.

If you're autistic and your autism isn't likely to affect your ability to drive safely, Jet's Law doesn't require you to give notice to Transport.

But what about that list of reportable conditions the article claims exists?

It doesn't exist. There is no list of reportable conditions.

Transport DOES provide some examples of medical conditions that are likely to affect your ability to drive. You can see them here:

https://www.support.transport.qld.gov.au/qt/formsdat.nsf/forms/S5040/$file/S5040.pdf

https://www.qld.gov.au/transport/licensing/update/medical/fitness#medcond

Here's the licence application form: https://www.support.transport.qld.gov.au/qt/formsdat.nsf/forms/qf3000/$file/f3000_es.pdf. Question 7 states that you must report any medical conditions that may adversely affect your ability to drive and asks if you have any of the following conditions:

Vision or eye disorder (other than wearing glasses or contact lenses) that may adversely affect your driving

Diabetes that requires treatment by tablet, insulin or other medication

Been diagnosed with epilepsy, experienced a seizure; or been required to take anti-epileptic medication after the age of 11

Any other medical condition/s that is likely to adversely affect your ability to drive safely

You know what I don't see anywhere? Autism.

But what about the National Standards?

Cahill managed to get that part of the articles almost right.

All Queensland drivers, regardless of age, must meet the national standards to ensure their health or any physical disability does not increase the risk of a crash. (confirmed by Transport) And before you ask, the national standard is not a list of 'reportable conditions'. (Even if it was, the autism update happened in 2022, not 2012). But what is the national standard if it's not a list of reportable conditions?

The national driver medical standards Assessing Fitness to Drive set out the considerations and medical criteria for safe driving. They also guide the management of drivers with health conditions so that they may continue to drive for as long as it is safe to do so. The standards are used by health professionals to assess and manage patients with health conditions that may affect their ability to drive safely. These assessments and the standards themselves inform Driver Licensing Authority decisions about driver licensing.

The national standard does refer to "Other neurological conditions including autism spectrum disorder and other developmental and intellectual disabilities". Yes, it was updated in 2022, as indicated by a big red banner across the top of the page. The update notes state:

The review identified that information and guidance was required to enable assessment of persons with ASD. Specialist advice noted that the variability of ASD characteristics and the degree of severity were too diverse for a specific standard. General guidance is however provided in the text of the chapter.

Wait, the review? The changes were made because of a review? They weren't a secret sneaky change as Cahill alleged? There was a public review that called for submissions from stakeholders?  Yes there was.

The review concluded there was not enough evidence to determine the MVC (motor vehicle crash) risk associated with ASD, and "Specialist advice noted that the variability of ASD characteristics and the degree of severity were too diverse for a specific standard."

So what does the standard actually say about autism?

The impact of other neurological conditions including autism spectrum disorder (ASD) and developmental and intellectual disability should be assessed individually. A practical driver assessment may be required. If the degree of impairment is static, periodic review is not usually required. People with ASD can have differences in social communication and interaction, with restricted and repetitive patterns of behaviour, interest and activities. Although evidence from driving studies are limited, drivers with ASD may drive differently from people without ASD. Shortcomings in tactical driving skills have been observed, while rule-following aspects of driving are improved. There is considerable difference in the range and severity of ASD symptoms, so assessment should focus on these and the significance of likely functional effects, rather than an ASD diagnosis.

So what does that mean?

It means we're right back at Jet's Law, in section 177 of the 2021 Regulation.

If you have a mental or physical incapacity that is likely to affect your ability to drive you need to declare it.

Could this include autism? Yes.

Does it automatically include autism? Not according to any law or standard currently in force in Queensland.

If you're an autistic Queenslander, your obligations under Jet's Law and the update to the national standard mean it's important that you consider whether your autism is likely to affect your driving ability and, if so, declare it. If it's not, then don't.

[Reminder: I am not your lawyer and this is not legal advice]

#auspol #queensland #qld pol #autism #autistic #Australian politics #queensland politics #law stuff #debunking #danielle cahill #long post #Cahill should be bloody ashamed of themself

[bad268]

Writing Inktober 2023

300 word minimum and no repeats are the challenges this year. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably. (haha yes)

BTW the medal emojis are the winners from the polls :)

01/10 Dream

Sebastian Montoya X Reader (W.C. 386)

02/10 Spiders

Seth Borden X Reader (W.C. 338)

03/10 Path

Max Verstappen X Reader (W.C. 367)

04/10 Dodge

Benny Rodriguez X Reader (W.C. 348)

05/10 Map

Sebastian Vettel X Reader (W.C. 338)

06/10 Golden

Justin Herbert X Reader (W.C. 342)

07/10 Drip

TMR Newt X Reader (W.C. 342) 🥈

08/10 Toad Sacrifice

Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader (W.C. 338)

09/10 Bounce

Marcus Armstrong X Reader (W.C. 384)

10/10 Fortune

Johnny Cade X Reader (W.C. 485) 🥉

11/10 Wander

Peter Parker X Reader (W.C. 402) 🥇

12/10 Spicey Scandal

Pierre Gasly X Reader (W.C. 391)

13/10 Rise Tonight

Colby Brock X Reader (W.C. 370)

14/10 Castle

Oscar Piastri X Reader (W.C. 370)

15/10 Dagger Nightmare

Lando Norris X Reader (W.C. 419)

16/10 Angel

Mick Schumacher X Reader (W.C. 395)

17/10 Demon

Kimi Raikkonen X Reader (W.C. 327)

18/10 Saddle

Daniel Ricciardo X Reader (W.C. 318)

19/10 Plump Wet

Ollie Bearman X Reader (W.C. 365)

20/10 Frost

Paul Aron X Reader (W.C. 389)

21/10 Chains Bouquet

Charles Leclerc X Reader (W.C. 369)

22/10 Scratchy Flight

Joe Burrow X Reader (W.C. 390)

23/10 Celestial Redeemer

Corpse Husband X Reader (W.C. 400)

24/10 Shallow Chosen

P! SBI X Reader (W.C. 358)

25/10 Dangerous

Callum Ilott X Reader (W.C. 310)

26/10 Remove Shots

Dennis Hauger X Reader (W.C. 348)

27/10 Beast

Christian Lundgaard X Reader (W.C. 339)

28/10 Sparkle

Dino Beganovic X Reader (W.C. 406)

29/10 Massive Approval

Felipe Drugovich X Reader (W.C. 358)

30/10 Rush

Clement Novalak X Reader (W.C. 386)

31/10 Fire

Pato O’Ward X Reader (W.C. 343)

Bonus: Break

Tadashi Hamada X Reader (W.C. 363)

Average W.C. 369

Want to read other years’ Inktober stories, check these out:

2021 // 2022 // 2024 (Coming Soon)

On a side note, I looked back at last year’s entries, and I definitely thought Bouquet was Banquet, so instead of admitting I was wrong, I did it as a sub this year. If you noticed, no you didn’t :)

Also funny story about Shallow, I kept reading it as Swallow, so I couldn't do it

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

#bad268 #writing inktober 2023 #formula 1 x reader #formula 2 x reader #formula 3 x reader #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #f3 x reader #justin herbert x reader #joe burrow x reader #benny rodriguez x reader #seth borden x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tmr newt x reader #peter parker x reader #johnny cade x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #corpse husband x reader #marcus armstrong x reader #c!technoblade x reader #sbi #indycar x reader #callum ilott x reader #christian lundgaard x reader #pato o'ward x reader

[loveharlow]

*not my edit

sidenote: I had a HISTORICAL Thomas phase during like 2020-2021, when I tell y'all I read strictly for him?? my ass was DEEP into delulu village

but like my motivation for him was never lost its just that the TMR fandom seemed so dead but like if I wrote for him more would y'all read it??

#harlowstfu🤫 #thomas—gallery✧ #thomas x reader #thomas tmr x reader #dylan obrien x reader #dob #tmr #the maze runner

[mingkist]

Perhaps love

25. 12.7$

SM’s new girl group centers around the concepts of Mythology and Astronomy. What would happen when the girls befriend half of the KPOP industry? That we will soon find out.

new taylor album tmr ٩( ᐛ )و yayyyyy!!!

previous | next | masterlist

taglist: @alanniys @layzfeelit @mingiholic @halleys-comet-2021 @littlebrownngirl @lazypostfandomer

send me an ask to be added onto the list!

#ateez smau #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #ateez x yn #ateez x you #ateez x idol!reader #nct x idol!reader #8makes1teamnet #johnny suh x reader #⇔ smau series: perhaps love #→ girlgroup: cassiopiea

[nature-hiking]

Waterfalls of the TMR 15/? - Tour de Monte Rosa, July 2021

photo by: nature-hiking

#waterfall #mountains #landscape #alps #tour de monta rosa #TMR #Tour de Monte Rosa #long distance trail #wilderness #hiking #trekking #nature #photography #original photography #photographers on tumblr #TMR 2021

[merwynsartblog]

reminder to self that the first drawing of mercury was in 2021 03/03 so march third i think?

this. this was the first ever design of mercury

even though im cringing heavily rn i am like. really proud of the improvement i gotten in a few years. like GOOD LORD.

also ill eat the chocolate pizza tmr i need to make sure my family doesnt see me make this thing bc they be so concerned

[its-tea-time-darling]

thomally (i swear i can’t ever remember the ship name for thomas x gally). not a huge fan of it but i wanna know your opinion

FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK — thomally is one of my all time favorite tmr ships!!!! 😍

genuinely met some of my closest friends bc of that ship — even crossed the big pond to meet ‘em so yeah it’s always gonna be very near and dear to my heart 🥹♥️

as for the ship itself, i just think it’s spectacular! the same way thomesa is, i think thomally is a perfect „two sides of the same coin“ ship which just intrinsically makes me weak in the knees.

both thomas and gally want to protect and ultimately save the people around them—but how they go about it is diametrically opposed.

they’re opposites in so many ways—thomas breaks rules where gally enforces them brutally, thomas urges people to go while gally wants them to stay. thomas wrecks the things gally built, carefully and with his own hands (while ironically, thomas was the one who built the maze itself).

like if you see it from gally‘s point of view, thomas shows up, and he starts tearing apart everything gally built and stands for. gally cares so so much about his fellow gladers—think of the way his voice breaks when he says „i dont want to cross anymore ways off this wall.“ gally knows they’re situation is fucked up, but he has tried so so hard over the 3 years he’s been at the glade to make it into a place that’s worth living in still.

privately i also think the reason why they go up in flames against each other so quickly is bc they’re both instantly attracted to each other, but they don’t understand what that feeling is they’re feeling. so it comes out as aggression instead of friendliness and affection, because while thomas wants gally to like him, and go along with him, gally opposed him at every step.

and i think for gally it’s the fact that he clocks very quickly that thomas isn’t someone he’s going to be able to protect. and that’s a horrible feeling to gally because protecting people is what he does, but also bc he’s feeling that aforementioned undefinable feeling he hasn’t felt before that he doesn’t know yet is attraction….

perfect thomally songs are:

and

the best place to start reading thomally is the 2015 classic apelsin (i hope you’re of age lol, it’s explicit. if not ill hook you up with another rec np 😎):

or actually, let me provide a sfw gem right away: my beloved secret santa gift from 2021 by my equally beloved @crestfallercanyon „these truths unbound and ripe for burning“

#HaHA this got out of hand! 😃 #thomally #maze runner #tmr #the maze runner #tmr gally #tmr thomas #ask #tea answers #ship ask game #ask game #crest #long post

[zombu7]

favorite tomarry fanfics of 2022? the zombu awards if you will

AAAHH I went to go look into my bookmarks and the last tomarry fic I bookmarked was in 2021 💀💀💀 I don’t really read much fics anymore because there’s so many landmines and for some reason people like to mistag everything 😵‍💫

Butttt these are the fics I read recently haha

Minister TMR x Milf HP:

HP being rescued and raised by TMR:

#zombu answers

[mazegays]

falling branches

“We have to go,” Sonya yells over the storm. Thomas looks around wildly for Minho, reminded of the last storm they were in. They’d been driving home from their first *real* date, and there’d been a tree in the road. They’d gotten out to move it, because it wasn’t too big, just large enough they couldn’t drive over it.

Minho had gotten struck by lightning.

Neither of them has liked storms since.

“I’ve got to find Minho!”

“We can come back for him! We have to go, now!”

He’s not leaving Minho alone in this storm.

Minho’s still under the picnic shelter, staring at the clouds, frozen.

“Minho!” Thomas doesn’t think he hears him, not over the wind and his panic. He fights through the rain, the wind pushing him forward.

He manages to grab onto Minho, pulling him deeper under the shelter.

“The others are leaving, we have to go.”

“I can’t--I can’t go out there.”

Thomas isn’t leaving him here, but they can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.

“Hey, Minho,” He starts, hoping this idea works. “Let’s run.”

finish on ao3

#thominho week 2021 #thominho #hurt thomas #hurt minho #implied suicide #hurt/comfort #thominho fic #tmr fic #newt #harriet #sonya #teresa #brenda #gally #chuck #alby #sonyarriet #brendesa #nalby #ao3 #fanfic #nix writes #my fic #happy ending

[smoosnoom]

ok so . moon. i Luved all the songs so much !! i think my fave was your love . it was just so good ?? the Sounds were very pleasing to my brain lol. i did already know scary love and its one of my fav the nbhd songs tbh. i only know a few somgs from glass animals (it's all so incredibly loud, the other side of paradise, mama's gun and poplar st) so i will Definitely check out that album tmr or smth <3

and!! i have some song recs for u too (tho im very bad at matching song vibes so its just kinda random soz) :

make up your mind - florence + the machine

safe - all time low (very mike wheeler imo)

avalanche - bring me the horizon

at least i have nothing - saint motel

resilience - pierce the veil (very will byers imo)

oh another will byers coded song ive been obsessed w lately is arsonist's lullaby - hozier, as well as in the woods somewhere .. i've just been obsessed w hozier lately tbh lol

ok thats all or else i will starting listing songs for days lol . me and my 2,013 liked songs on spotify r always open to give recs tho 🫡

ok . after several days of not answering this i am Finally here, sniffly nose and all, answering this 🫡 first of all IMS SOSOOO HAPPY U LIKED THEM 🥳🥳🥳🥳 i did think "your love" was ur vibe so im very glad 2 hear that :D if u ever check out their album let me know all ur thoughts !!!!

ok so . ive been trying to get into flo+the machine, and this song . is so good i loveee her vocals and the instruments building up with it, this and hozier give me very similar vibes !!! i really enjoyed it !!!!

honestly . all time low in General is so mike wheeler core he would so get into a poppunk phase i said what i said . also the idea of everything mike considers safe immediately leaving 🙂 goodbye why would u put this in my head

walk the moon i know very scarcely, but i think i should definitely check them out properly since this is like . their fifth song ive heard and enjoyed !!!! it was very nice, very similar vibes to the other ones ive heard 🥳

same thing with saint motel !!! ive heard a bunch of their songs and i liked this one just as much :D also ive realized u recommend many that have a vibe of just . leaving everything behind and pursuing something else

omg i had a brief ptv phase back in middle school LOL and oh my god ur so right this is so will byers 😭 mj Please . crying

i love love loveee hozier, i think he was top five listened in 2021 LOL he is so . i love his lyricism his music his Everything !!

thank u 4 the recs :)

#/ask #ims sooo sorry this took so long to answer 😭 i trked to be as In Depth as possible

[andiwriteordie]

Andi I'm not supposed to read the NWH byler fic rn bc I have a headache and I said I'd do it TMR but I read a little bit of it bc I can't help myself and now I'm shaking (just a bit) but part of me was gaslighting myself into thinking it wasn't. Well. NWH plot. Andi I'm so upset already like. Like I KNOW how the movie ends and I'm still convincing myself it's an au so the ending will be. Um. Different. This is the same shit that happens with I know better (which. Um. I'll finish soon I swear I WILL I've just been busy. Also procrastinating bc I do Not want to cry) and I know it didn't work out for me (*shakes fist angrily*) so. So yk.

Anyways congrats on 1 million words (you're crazy and I'm afraid I can't go crazy with you bc I write slow. Also my dad low-key broke my laptop (it's fine I got a new one ey) so I couldn't have even if I wanted to vaguely try idk) you are so impressive and I adore you so much I love you okay bye 👋👋 CONGRATS tho you're so cool and awesome and amazing 🥰🥰🥰 gn I need to stop looking at my phone my head hurts oof

(also ps. I'm so like. Happy? That you like stonathan (+stoncy) like it's so funny to me bc ive never seen many ppl who shipped it elsewhere until. Well. Recently. it is SO funny ily okay goodnight)

TOY

omg no i'm sorry you have a headache 😭🫂 those are the worst, but i hope you're feeling better today!

oh my god i know, i know, i keep writing established byler in this nwh fic, and i'm like lying on the floor and crying thinking about them getting separated at the end of it (which is part of what made me enjoy nwh so much too, like that was some good angst). i'm not promising anything, but i have considered what it would look like to end this a little differently than nwh but still maintain the overall plot that would remove will from the public eye essentially... idk. work in progress. maybe i should do another poll (i'm joking. mostly.) and let the people decide we'll see.

(GO FINISH I KNOW BETTER TOY. IT WILL BE OK I PROMISE YOU. DO I NEED TO WRITE A FLUFFY FIC TO GIFT TO YOU AS COMFORT FOR FINISHING IT? BECAUSE I WILL. SEND ME A PROMPT AND I'LL DO IT)

ok i lowkey want to hear the "dad broke my laptop" story because wow??? that literally sucks? my laptop broke this year and i was a Very Grumpy person for a solid few days. and thank you!!! i'm pretty sure some of the 1 million was written in 2021 technically, but i'm counting it because i know there are things i haven't posted or finished that i wrote this year 😂

STONATHAN/STONCY FOR THE WIN. look. down with the love triangle, jonathan byers has two hands, and they are for his two favorite bisexuals. i love the fact that so many bylers also ship stonathan/stoncy. like. this is why you're my people.

#andi's asks