what-we-forget

The ways in which I will love you

1. Truly
I won’t keep writing cheesy love poems or keep complimenting you. I will say what I think and be verbal about things you can work on, about what I don’t particularly like because there will be somethings I won’t.

2. I will love you.
Why?
There will be no reason.
Not any particular thing but you as a whole.
So you can change and grow, you can progress and you can evolve. As long as you’re you at the core, you have all my love.

3. I will be open to exploring your interests.
I may not care about sports but if that’s something you care about, I will ask you to teach me and I will sincerely learn and take interest.

4. Whatever path it may be, you won’t walk alone. On rainy days, I will share my umbrella and on windy days I will not make fun of your hair. On sunny ones I will share my ice cream and when your shoes are worn out, I will stop with you and help you fix them. Or wait until you find new ones that are just the right fit.

5. I will accept and try to love your crazy family as my own. I understand how complicated and unbelievable families can be but I do know the base is always love.

6. I will give you all my maps and some flashlights too so you can go on to explore parts of me I don’t display. There won’t be anything you will not know if you want to. I won’t let you read my diaries but I will let you read my soul.

7. I will step out of the goof closet I have been living in all my life and show you who I really am and make you laugh and smile and blush and yell.

8. I will say yes to adventure and to crazy sexual desires and have long lists of my very own I will like to explore with you.

9. I won’t cook or clean and I won’t be sorry about it. But I will keep your heart fed and the dark corners of your mind clean.

10. I won’t demand your phone/social media/bank passwords because all I really want is to look in your eyes and know what you’re thinking, to touch you and know what you’re feeling and to love a person I know as well and as little as myself.
As little as myself is only stating the disregard for the expectations and standards of the society and people and the masks we are given to wear on every birthday.

11. I will love the lazy Sundays at home as well as all the days we forget what day of the week it is or what time it really is because we are lost in time zones, on airplanes and in between magic.

12. When we argue I will never not stay silent or keep anything on the inside. I will get it all out so that there is never anything ugly left to grow on the inside.

as we grow older, we are taught to put homework first, always. we are taught to set aside our interests to complete busy work. we are taught to indulge in time fillers, rather than doing what we really want. and so then, once in a blue moon, when we happen to have a day of no work, we don’t know what to do with ourselves. we forget what it means to be spontaneous; we learn to sit at a desk and focus. and I think that’s a shame

Let’s never forget what we know about Chris. He showed us all who he was, and we’ve all had experiences with him or his music, his lyrics, that have impacted us in some way. We’re lucky that we were here for that. People are likely to talk about him differently now that he’s gone, especially because of the circumstances. We’ve seen that happen before. Don’t let your memories of him get tainted or distorted. I’ll continue to remember him the way I knew him, the way that he/his music impacted me.

Behind Closed Doors // A Thomas Smut

Prompt: It is forbidden at all costs to sleep with the only girl in the glade, but that’s not gonna stop Thomas from being with her in the slightest.

Relationship: Thomas x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Sneaking Around, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Slightly Rough Thomas I Guess, Sexual Harassment, and Super Fucking Sexy Thomas Because Come On.

Word Count: 6,863

A/N: Because I was in the mood for some maze runner smut.

Your name: submit What is this?

Not being able to hold back the pleasure built up inside of me any longer, I let out a loud moan the second Thomas reattached his lips on my pulse point and nibbled on it. His chest pushing up against me rubbed my back on the wall and his fingers lightly grazed me over my soaking wet panties, sending excited shivers down my spine. My entire body was begging for more of him, but I knew that we wouldn’t have enough time out here to have sex and make it back.

“Thomas, we need to go back to the glade.” I tried, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. Instead he just pushed my panties to the side with his fingers. “We still have to map out what we saw before we forget it and it gets dark.”

“We’re not gonna forget.” He hummed against my neck, his voice vibrating my skin.

“Babe, we don’t have time for sex.” I disagreed, but immediately whimpered when his middle finger slid through my folds and separated them.

“Who said anything about sex?” Thomas smirked, applying pressure on my clitoris and slowly circling it. “I just want to make my girl feel good before we have to pretend like we’re not together.”

I wanted to protest and I wanted to be responsible here, but as he worked my nub in such an incredible and addictive way, I couldn’t find the will to actually stop him. I knew we wouldn’t have the same freedom in the glade that we have out here in the maze, thanks to Alby’s most strict rule of No one ever touches (Y/N) because she’s the only female and whomever does will be punished, so I decided to just give into him and let Thomas do whatever he wanted to me.

I brought my hands up to his neck and pulled him away from mine to attach his lips on my own. Our kiss was passionate and full of lust, his tongue already gliding on the bottom of my lip to ask for an entrance. I opened my mouth for him to slip his tongue inside and I instantly moaned at how skillful he was with it.

Thomas’ finger increased its pace against my nub, my hips bucking at the delicious feeling. The way he was working on me made me feel so hazy that I couldn’t even focus on kissing him correctly, my mouth too lazy to properly move. All I could do was allow the pleasure to build up inside of me and moan into his mouth as Thomas now used his finger to slide inside of my warmth. My hands gripped onto his neck tighter in response along with my arching back and my secret boyfriend smirked against my lips. My eyes fell shut to the incredible sensations he was provoking, but a whine escaped my mouth when he broke our kiss.

“Does this feel good?” He teased, his finger slowly pumping inside of my core.

I just nodded, my body too lost in the pleasure to be able to form any sentence or say a single word for that matter. Thomas knew exactly how much it turned me on when he talked dirty to me and I didn’t even need to open my eyes to know he was grinning smugly at me right now. His finger moved a little faster inside of me before I could even ask and the shameless moan that escaped my lips would’ve been embarrassing if I wasn’t too lustful at this moment.

“Do you want another one?” Thomas smirked, the movements of his finger bringing me close to my peak. I nodded my head and he just tsked sexily. “I need you to say it, baby.”

“Y-Yes.” I somehow managed to speak through the desire and Thomas immediately responded.

Another finger of his pushed itself into my core and I hitched my leg around his waist for him to have more access. Thomas moaned at my sudden action and instantly pushed his fingers deeper, an immediate mixture of a moan and a scream falling from my lips. I didn’t care that I was so loud and open with Thomas, our relationship was too intimate for me to worry about being vulnerable around him.

“T-Thomas, please.” I begged him for my orgasm and, believe it or not, his pace increased even more.

The spring in my stomach was coiling more with every passing second and Thomas definitely knew. With his other hand, my boyfriend slipped it under my shirt and runner gear to squeeze my breast. His hand began kneading it, Thomas’ calloused fingers tightly pinching my nipple and it was enough to further the pulsing in my core. I desperately wanted his mouth attached to my perky bud but I knew that that wouldn’t be possible thanks to the annoying runner’s wear and how incredibly difficult it was to remove.

It was when Thomas curled his fingers inside of me to press against my G-spot he was well aware of and his thumb put unbelievable pressure on my clit that I couldn’t hold it back anymore. The spring inside of me snapped, releasing the extremely anticipated orgasm all throughout my body. My back arched, my legs shook and a mixture of embarrassing moans with lustful screams erupted from my chest.

“Shit, baby, you sound and look so beautiful.” Thomas moaned, my mouth only able to moan in response.

Once I whimpered at how sensitive I’ve become, Thomas carefully removed his fingers from inside of me and gently placed my leg back on the ground. His other hand detached from my breast and fixed my shirt so it looked like nothing happened. As soon as I opened my eyes, the first sight I saw was Thomas happily sucking on his fingers that worked on me. His tongue grazed his skin and, even though I just came, this sexy sight immediately made me ready for another orgasm with him. He smirked at how in awe I was and I almost melted right then and there when he winked. Pulling his fingers out of his mouth, Thomas adjusted my jeans and I watched him with hooded eyes.

Bringing my back off of the maze’s wall and managing to stand on my own, a grin spread across my lips with a deviant idea. Thomas’ eyebrows quirked up at me before I prepared myself for what I was about to do.

“Last one to the map room is a rotten shank!” I challenged, immediately sprinting towards the glade.

Looking behind me with a huge smile planted on my face, I realized Thomas instantly played along and was already hot on my trail. We both ran like maniacs towards the door with joy flooding through our veins and not a single care in the world. Considering Thomas and I are the best runners in the glade, it didn’t take long for us to maneuver our way through the maze and quickly reach the entrance. An excited squeal escaped my lips when I looked behind me and realized Thomas was no longer there, but was now right beside me. The wind blew in my hair and stung my face, yet all I could focus on was how beautiful and happy my boyfriend looked as we suddenly entered the glade and rushed towards the map room already in sight. The two of us completely ignored all of the stares and shouts the gladers were sending us, both too consumed by each other.

“No, no, no!” I screamed when he started winning, but it was no use. Thomas was just as determined as I was. It’s our best, but also most annoying quality.

“See you on the other side, rotten shank!” He shouted back at me, not even bothering to turn around before reaching the map room and quickly opening the door.

“Thomas!” I tried to stop him, but of course it didn’t work.

My boyfriend rushed inside and I groaned when he beat me at my own game. Running in after him, Thomas’ smirk was wide and smug as I shut the door to the map room behind us. That’s always how our sessions worked, behind closed doors to avoid getting caught. I wish that we could be open about our relationship, but at the same time I like how the adrenaline flows through our veins every time we meet in secret. With the door closed every facade falls. The disguise we display to the world fades away and all we desire is to fuck each other’s brains out.

“I’m glad you could finally come.” He teased and I narrowed my eyes at him as I approached Thomas slowly.

“Well, it’s a good thing I already did.” I clicked my tongue, Thomas’ eyebrows quirking at my comment. “Because something tells me if you keep this up, you won’t.”

“Oh, is someone upset I won?” Thomas grinned, the both of us now inches apart from each other. “Can’t handle being slower than me, can you?”

I decided to ignore him and just glare at him instead of saying anything, hoping it would make him take back what he just said. But, no. An even wider and cockier smile pulled at the corner of his lips and as much as I hated to admit it, he looked incredibly sexy.

“Screw you, Thomas.”

“If you insist.” He shrugged before grabbing my cheeks and crashing his lips against mine.

I instantly moaned into his mouth, his impressive lips molding with my own in such perfect harmony. If there’s something Thomas certainly knows how to do is kiss me like there’s no tomorrow, always making my knees go with with his touch. His tongue didn’t even ask for an entrance instead he just pushed it past my lips and made its way onto mine, the both of them waltzing together so beautifully that no dancer could ever compare. Our love so much more stunning than any piece of art out there in the world.

Thomas’ hand wrapped around my waist to push my chest into his warm one as he backed our bodies up to the nearest table. Our kiss never broke even when he cleared all of the pens, pencils, papers, and pieces of scrap with one swift movement of his hand off the table. Excitement boiling inside of me as his hands settled on my ass to pull me up on it and sit me down on the surface. My legs instantly spread for him at the same time that Thomas began unzipping my jeans and pulling them down, my lack of air starting to make me feel light-headed. My jeans were pooling down on the floor when I decided to separate our kiss, begrudgingly, and my hands flew to his belt. As I unbuckled it, Thomas removed my leather runner’s gear. At the same time that I opened his pants and let it fall to the ground, my boyfriend pulled at the hem of my shirt telling me he wanted it off. My shirt was the first to go then his and as soon as we were only in our underwear, Thomas’ mouth immediately latched onto my breast to give it the attention it desperately wanted earlier.

Even though his warm and wet mouth working on my nipple turned me on immensely, there was nothing I craved more than to feel him inside of me. As soon as I tugged at his boxers, Thomas got the message. He bit down on my nipple, a squeal escaping my lips, and pulled at it with his teeth before taking his mouth off of my breast with a pop.

I brought his boxers down to his knees and instinctively wrapped my hand around his delicious shaft, not being able to hold back how much I craved to touch him. As I slowly pumped his erection, my thumb caressing his swollen and wet with precum tip, Thomas growled at the feeling and ripped apart my panties all of a sudden. Even though I wanted to get mad at him considering I only have three, well now two, I couldn’t find it in myself to be anything but turned on by his lustful actions.

Putting his lips back onto mine, Thomas spread my legs for him to stand in between. One of his hands settled on my waist as the other removed mine from his cock to position himself in my entrance, moans escaping both of our lips when he wet his tip with my juices. His swollen head sliding amongst my folds and caressing my clitoris, my chest already arching into his at the contact. It’s not my fault I easily come undone with Thomas, it’s his fault for being so damn sexy all the time.

Thomas pressed himself into my core and our breaths hitched in our throats as he slowly stretched me, both of us melting into the incredible feeling. His hand on my waist moved to my lower back so he could push me closer to him, his dick entering deeper inside of me. My eyes immediately shut at the fullness and Thomas’ head fell to my shoulder, his lips placing gentle kisses on my skin. Once he was buried deep inside of me, my boyfriend didn’t even need to wait before thrusting thanks to how turned on and ready I was for him.

Thomas started out at a normal pace, enjoying the feeling of our bodies connected again. We haven’t had sex in about a week because sex in the maze is careless and dangerous and it’s been nearly impossible in the glade because of all the attention he was getting lately. So, needless to say, we’ve been craving each other too much and the built up sexual tension between us is so strong it almost hurts.

Just as he increased his thrusting, Thomas’ free hand moved up to my neck and gripped onto the back of my hair. I whimpered in response and he smiled into my shoulder blade. We didn’t talk about it because it was just a normal thing, but the both of us absolutely love it when Thomas pulls my hair. It’s our favorite kink we share and have no shame in falling prey to it. The way he pounds into me as he grabs my hair, his fingers intertwining with the strands, was so exciting to us.

“Thomas!” A voice suddenly called from outside of the map room and before we even knew it or could do anything to stop what was about to happen, the door flew open. “Are you alright? Why were you guys running so fa-”

My eyes widened in fear as Gally appeared in front of us, his sentence immediately stopping as soon as he caught sight of Thomas fucking me. Who had instantly halted his actions when he realized we were no longer alone and picked up his head from my shoulder to look at the intruder with not only a shocked expression, but a glare blazing in his brown eyes.

Gally’s pupils fell to our connected and wet groins, Thomas growling when he did. As soon as he began to pull out, a moan escaping my lips at the most inappropriate time thanks to the friction, the now terrified glader immediately backed away. Turning around to face the door, Gally ran out of the map room without another word.

“T-Thomas, he’s gonna go tell Alby.” I panicked the moment Gally was gone. “We s-should stop.”

“No.” Thomas grunted, pushing back inside of me and picking up his thrusts again. “We just have to be fast before they get here.”

“Thomas, you’re gonna get in trouble.”
I argued, but moaned loudly when his tip hit my most sensitive spot he was very well aware of.

“I’m gonna get in trouble either way.” He stated, his pace fast and hard. The desk pounding against the wall along with his thrusts, our breathing in sync with the rhythm as well. “Might as well enjoy this last moment I have with you.”

His words stung in my heart the second he finished saying them because we knew Alby wouldn’t take this “crime” lightly. Thomas was going to get punished and fear mixed with the lust in my veins at what exactly said punishment consists of.

“Okay, then you’re gonna want to go harder than that.” I teased, my hands now flying to grip his flexed biceps in preparation.

Thomas followed my directions instantly and pounded harder into me, my body already getting a taste of the sweet edge it will soon be falling over. His mouth crashed back onto mine and kissed me like there was no tomorrow. I kissed him back with as much fervor and passion, neither one of us wanting to say goodbye through words so we let our bodies do it instead. Which at the end of the day, would do a much better job than anything our minds can come up with. Thomas’ and my body are so in sync with each other that they just know exactly how to express our care and love without needing to fumble over sentences.

“I-I’m close.” I confessed, feeling my orgasm creeping up on me.

Thomas’ hand that was on my waist moved to our connecting groins and began to furiously circle my clit, my legs already shaking in response. I tried to kiss him back as focused as I could, but it was too hard to concentrate when I knew I was about to fall apart. Thomas, however, did an amazing job keeping our kiss going and he even slipped his tongue inside of my mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I shouted, no longer concerned about hiding my moans.

The second Thomas applied more pressure onto my nub and, suddenly, pulled at my hair, I lost it. I completely fell over the edge and jumped into the overwhelming pool of pleasure waiting for me, my orgasm touching my skin like water in a lake. Clenching down on his cock, Thomas let out a strangled moan and the sound itself would’ve made me cum a second time.

Once I came back down from my high, I noticed Thomas was still chasing after his release. Bringing my mouth to his earlobe, I nibbled on it and ignored the sensitivity in my core. I was just as determined to have him orgasm as he was.

“It’s okay, baby.” I whispered into his ear, my boyfriend shuttering at the feeling of my warm breath fanning across his sweaty skin. “Forget the world outside and just cum for me, Thomas.”

With the mixture of my dirty words and my core purposely clenching down on him, Thomas moaned into my mouth as he finally reached his much anticipated orgasm. At the same time that he pulled out to release on my stomach, four unexpected figures suddenly appeared at the doorway and my body froze. Thomas didn’t even notice them, his eyes were shut tight in focus and he grunted loudly as his hot cum coated my skin. It wasn’t until then that I noticed just who was at the door, all of their eyes wide and jaws dropped in complete shock.

Gally, Alby, Newt, and Minho’s terrified eyes averted from the scene before them and all of the lust inside of me was replaced with horror. The four keepers of the glade just witnessed their newest Greenie cumming on the only girl here. My cheeks immediately felt hot and I knew they were painted with red blushes.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Thomas’ husky voice snapped me out of my fear and my eyes shifted to look at him. He was furrowing his eyebrows at me in confusion and all I could do was stare.

“Thomas clean her up and meet us outside.” Alby spoke up with a voice full of authority and my boyfriend gasped. “Now.”

He didn’t even dare to turn around, I just watched as Thomas’ face became as red as mine. Alby quickly turned around and left, the three other boys following in his footsteps.

“Thomas, I’m scared.” I confessed, my concerned eyes piercing into his. “I don’t want to lose you.”

A soft and genuine smile appeared on his lips as my boyfriend placed his hand on my flushed cheek.

“You won’t.” He promised and I believed him.

Thomas grabbed what was left of my torn panties and used the cloth to clean his release off of me. As soon as he finished, both of us quietly put our clothes back on. Our minds too full of thoughts about what we were going to face to put together a conversation.

“Ready?” He asked me, his hand about to push open the door.

“Ready.” I nodded.

Slipping my hand into his free one, Thomas opened the door and lead us out into the glade. My heart beat violently against my ribcage as we approached the group of people formed in front of the maze’s doors, Alby already staring at us with his arms folded across his chest. I noticed how it was getting darker by the second, meaning the doors to the maze would be shutting any minute now.

“Look at that shuckface!” Gally suddenly shouted, pointing at Thomas and I didn’t understand where this anger was coming from. “He’s nothing but a piece of klunk!”

“That’s enough, Gally.” Newt defended as we entered the group.

Alby unfolded his arms and settled them beside him, he walked over to us and Thomas gulped at the proximity. He cleared his throat due to his nervousness and shifted on his feet, but never took his hand out of mine. The leader’s eyes flickered to it before they returned to their angry post on the Greenie, disappointment also evident in them.

“We don’t have many rules here in the glade.” Alby spoke up. “And yet, Thomas, you have managed to break the most important.”

I expected my boyfriend’s head to fall to the ground in shame, but instead he stood his ground. Thomas was in no way challenging or disrespecting Alby, he was just telling him through his actions that he didn’t agree.

“You’re going to have to be punished for going against our law.”

“Banish him!” Gally yelled and my entire body went weak.

“Alby, we can’t banish him.” Minho suddenly intervened, his eyes concerned about his good friend. “He’s too important.”

“Maybe we should just put him a night in the pit with no food.” Newt offered and the scoff that came out of Gally’s mouth was so loud it almost scared me.

“Absolutely not!” The annoying glader disagreed, his head shaking as he pointed at Thomas. “That’s too easy, he’s just gonna do it again!”

“So?” I spoke up, surprising both the gladers and myself. “I’m the one that decides wether or not someone touches me, not you guys!”

“(Y/N), you don’t know what you’re saying-”

“Yes, I do Gally!” I shouted in frustration. “Thomas isn’t hurting me and it shouldn’t be a crime if I like it.”

“She has a point, Alby.” Minho agreed with me and an actual smile placed itself on my lips.

“No, she doesn’t!” Gally hissed. “Alby, don’t listen to this. He can’t just spend a night in the pit, he needs to be kicked out.”

Alby lifted his hand to order silence in the glade and everyone immediately complied. A nervous lump formed in my throat as I realized that the leader had made his decision.

“Thomas, you won’t be spending a night in the pit.” Alby stated. “You’ll spending it in the maze.”

The entire world around me stopped so I could feel it quickly crumble into pieces beneath my feet. A static noise buzzed in my ear and my eyes became blurry with instant tears as I felt an icy cold hurricane crash down on me and drown me in fear. My heart pounded against my body as if it belonged to Thumper from Bambi and I was certain it was going to break through and fall down to the floor.

“No, no, no.” I shook my head in denial but no one said anything. It was already decided.

Out of nowhere, the sudden sound of the doors to the maze began to close and the ice water inside of me froze every single one of my limbs. Pain invaded my cells and tore them apart without any bit of mercy. The last thing I heard before I completely succumbed to my fear was Alby’s upset voice telling Thomas it was time to go. My breathing shortened and a sick feeling punched me in my stomach, warning me I was going to throw up. An invisible hand wrapped around my throat and forbid me from properly breathing and a mixture of hot and cold flashes sparked through my body. It was as if I were dying and I knew exactly what was happening to me. And by the way Thomas stood in front of me and placed both of his hands on my cheek, he also knew I was having a panic attack.

“Breathe.” He instructed and I tried to follow the way he was showing me breathing exercises. “It’s okay, just breathe. I’m going to make it, (Y/N). I need you to believe me.”

I wanted to say I believed him but all I could do was replay Chuck once telling me No one survives a night in the maze over and over again in my mind. Thomas continued to try and comfort me even though he was the one about to face the Grievers, yet we both knew my panic attack wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.

“Thomas, let’s go.” Alby stated, pulling his hands off of me and began leading everyone towards the moving doors.

We approached it and I did my best to ignore my panic attack as Thomas turned to look at me one last time. His eyes were begging me to be okay and I wished I could grant him what he wanted, but I wasn’t going to ever be okay again. My boyfriend quickly wrapped his arms around me and I ignored all of the stares from the gladers as he separated to place a kiss on my lips. It was short and of course I craved more, but mainly because a part of me knew I would never feel it again.

“I love you.” Thomas said to me for the first time and my heart actually jumped. My eyes flickered over to Alby for the slightest second and I could see the hurt in his own eyes. He didn’t want to do this, but he needed to enforce the rules.

My boyfriend walked through the doors to the maze and my legs ran to him, hot tears streaming down my face that I hadn’t even noticed until now. Newt immediately grabbed me before I could go in and I watched with a heart in agony as he entered the maze and turned around to look as me one last time.

“I love you, too.” I shouted through my hysterical sobbing.

Thomas gave me an encouraging smile before the rocks connected and he was trapped behind closed doors.

~

The entire night was one long and drawn out nightmare. My mind kept picturing the worst scenarios of Thomas in that terrifying maze, always ending with him being teared apart by the Grievers that showed him no mercy. His pillow was completely stained by my salty tears at this point and my cheeks were stiff with all of the dry water stuck to them. I was no longer sobbing uncontrollably like I had since the moment Thomas left, but I was now entirely numb inside.

Usually, I loved getting up early in the morning to see Thomas quickly before we had to run off into the maze for the day. However, today I dreaded the idea of leaving his hammock that I have already claimed my own. His smell still lingered in the sheets and I, in no way, was ready to part from the small piece of him I still had left. No one ever survives a night in the maze and Thomas is still relatively a Greenie which means he was no different.

Watching as the sun rose in front of me, the normally beautiful and vibrant colors no longer having an effect without Thomas here for us to marvel at them, I felt a small finger tapping on my shoulder. Turning around, Chuck looked at me with pity but also a small glimpse of hope in his eyes. He was laying on his hammock and I instantly noticed the dried tears on his freckled cheeks.

“He’s gonna make it.” He spoke up, his voice not groggy like I expected it to be which meant he also didn’t get any sleep last night. Our minds were too worried about our favorite person in this glade. “I promise you. Thomas is gonna walk right through those doors today and surprise us all.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Chuck.” I stated, the lump in my throat now permanently lodged there. “It hurts more than just accepting the horrible truth.”

“This is the truth.” The chubby twelve year old sat up in his hammock, his eyes determined as they looked at me. “I’ve been in this glade as long as I can remember and never have I ever met someone like Thomas before. He’s strong, fast and– most importantly– he’s ridiculously smart. If someone’s gonna figure out a way to survive against the Grievers, that someone is definitely our Thomas.”

His words weren’t just made to comfort me and they weren’t full of pity or false hope, Chuck meant every single sentence that came out of his mouth. And from how certain he was about them, I couldn’t help hut feel like they were laced with truancy. I know Thomas better than anyone here and because of that, I was well aware he would never give up without one hell of a fight. My logic and my mind were telling me he was already long gone, but my heart suddenly felt a small spark of faith. All thanks to how sure this small yet incredibly courageous boy was.

“Thank you, Chuck.” I smiled for the first time since yesterday. “I needed to hear that.”

“And I needed to say it to someone​ other than myself.” He confessed with a kind smile that I gladly returned. “Now come on, let’s get some breakfast.”

Chuck shot up from his hammock and I let out a loud squeal when he turned mine, suddenly dropping me on the ground. The grass prickled my arms and legs, but I was now too focused on immediately standing up to get my revenge on him. The youngest glader let out a mixture of a scream and a laugh when I charged for him, already running away from me. But, I was determined and Chuck knew that which is why in a matter of seconds as we ran through the glade, not caring who saw us, I was able to wrap my arms around him and grab the kid. Instantly pinning him to the ground, Chuck shouted and giggled as I mercilessly attacked him with the tickle monster.

“Stop, please!” He pleaded through his loud laughter, the gladers waking up because of us. “Okay, okay! You win!”

“As always.” I smirked, pulling away from him. Chuck immediately let out a deep breath of relief and rested his elbows on the grass to glare at me.

“You’re an evil, woman.” He challenged and all I could do was laugh.

“I like to think of it as a gift.”

Winking at Chuck and then walking away, the sudden loud sound of the solid doors to the maze roared through the glade and warned us they were now opening. My heart instantly stopped and I didn’t even notice I was sprinting towards the heavy doors until I felt unexpected wind stinging against my cheek. I could see the maze already and my heartbeat paced faster than it ever has, not because I was running but because I was convinced that Thomas would be on the other side.

From my peripheral vision, I sensed Minho and Newt running along with me and Chuck right behind us three. We didn’t care that we looked desperate and insane, all we wanted was to see our Greenie again. I internally cursed my legs for not being fast enough and getting me to Thomas as soon as possible.

Once I had finally reached the entrance of the maze, my legs halted to a stop and my eyes immediately peered around the inside to see if they could spot him. I didn’t even mind that my breathing was completely unstable, that my heartbeat was pounding against my eardrums or that my lungs were burning in my chest. All I could think about was: Where the hell is he?

Thomas was nowhere in sight. The maze was completely empty and as I felt Chuck reach up and stand beside me, my mind began to slip back into the state it was in before. The panic and despair came back along with the pain and agony in my heart. All of the hope and faith Chuck had convinced me of instantly washed away only to be replaced by anguish and anger. The hurt I felt watching Thomas enter the maze is nothing compared to the wound that I will now have because he hasn’t come out of it. The once numb girl was now completely broken and shattered into a million pieces.

How could I have let myself think that things would’ve ended any differently?

Everyone knows people don’t make it with Grievers surrounding them, no human has a chance against those monsters. Thomas, the love of my life, was gone and there’s nothing I could do to get him back. He’s dead… and it’s all my fault. Why did I get involved with him when I knew it would put his life in danger? Why did I repeatedly be with him even though I was well aware of the possible consequences?

All I cared about was momentary passion and now Thomas has suffered a permanent punishment because of it- because of me. I’ll never forgive myself for what I have caused and I’ll never be able to live with the guilt either. Although, I won’t ever forget all of the fun times we had with each other and the love we shared. I don’t care that I can’t remember anything that happened to me before the glade, what really matter are the memories Thomas and I created together.

“So much for walking through those doors and surprising us.” I stated to Chuck as my voice broke, not even bothering to look at him.

I didn’t care how possibly hurt he was now, all I managed to do was look at the vacant maze one last time before tearing myself away from it and heading towards anywhere but here.

My legs carried me to the woods once again to cry alone and away from everyone else just like I had yesterday. But, this time it was so much worse. I couldn’t even see properly with how blurry my vision has become thanks to the non-stop tears. The back of my eyes burned as they cried, but it didn’t compare to the burning in my heart. It carried a weight like no other, a pain like never before. Leaning against a tree and slumping down to the uncomfortable ground, I allowed myself to just completely lose it.

Suddenly, the sound of a twig snapping pulled me out of my own depressing thoughts to look up at the source. Rage and hatrid flowed through my body the second I wiped away the pooling tears in my eyes and came face-to-face with the one person I despise the most, Gally. He stood there in front of me with a disgusting grin planted on his face and I desperately wanted to slap it off.

“What the hell do you want, shuckface?” I hissed, forcing myself to stop crying so he wouldn’t see me so vulnerable and, to my surprise, it actually worked. Mind over matter, I guess.

“You.”

The word came out of his mouth so naturally that I almost didn’t believe it, it wasn’t until he unexpectedly rushed over to me and lifted me off the ground that the reality hit me. Shockwaves of panic and fear immediately spread throughout my nerves like fire, instantly destroying me in its wake. A terrified and pained grunt escaped my lips when my attacker, all of a sudden, roughly pushed me up against the harsh tree. My body was so shocked with what was happening that I couldn’t even respond, my muscles frozen in place although my mind was screaming desperately at me to fight and run away.

“G-Gally!” I cried, my lips the only part of my body able to react as he gripped both of my wrists with one of his hands and settled it over my head. “Stop! What are you doing?!”

“What do you think I’m doing?” He spat back with a smirk and flashes of horror consumed me.

“You can’t do this!” I shouted frantically, my voice desperate and unstable.

“Why not?” Gally’s black and dark eyes pierced into mine, his icy stare making me feel cold. “Thomas did.”

The mention of his name sparked something in me I couldn’t explain and I, suddenly, felt stronger than ever. My body finally responded​ to the commands my neurons were sending to my muscles. Immediately and harshly stepping down on his foot, Gally let out a yelp of pain and out of instinct, let go of my hand.

“I wanted Thomas to touch me! You’re just disgusting!” I shouted at him with intense fury before sprinting away from the psycho.

“Oh, no you don’t.” I heard him comment and I knew that he was already hot on my trail.

Before I even expected it, I was abruptly tackled to the ground by his forceful body and to say it hurt wouldn’t be a fair description. Adrenaline ran through my veins, but it didn’t matter how much I fought back because Gally was a lot stronger than me. As soon as I tried to scream for help, his hand instantly covered my mouth and stopped me from trying to escape. His other hand grabbed my wrists like before and there was no use in trying to get away anymore, I was completely submitted to Gally’s strength.

I’m disgusting? You’re the whore, not me.” He hissed, tears already returning their posts down my cheeks. “I’m one of the leaders here and my voice is heard, not yours. If you say anything about this, (Y/N), no one’s ever gonna believe you.”

“I will.”

A sudden and familiar voice that didn’t belong to neither me or Gally spoke up from behind us and I immediately recognized it. My attacker’s eyes widened in fear, meaning he also knew exactly whom it belonged to and relief spread through my once terrified nerves when he quickly stood up.

There, standing over us, was the one person I desperately wanted to see the most. His shirt was torn, his shoulder covered in yellow slime, all of his skin painted with dirt, blood and sweat- but he never looked more beautiful in his entire life.

Not being able to handle waiting, my legs jumped up and instantly ran towards Thomas. His arms already welcoming me as I crashed into his embrace. I couldn’t care less about Gally anymore, all that mattered was that Thomas was alive and well. I hugged him so tight because I was afraid he would disappear if I let go, but instead of wincing my boyfriend just hugged me as tight right back. My tears of joy stained his shirt even further, Thomas caressing my hair whilst I cried into his chest.

“Baby, what do you want me to do with Gally?” He asked, the sound of his voice music to my ears.

“I don’t care.” I shrugged. “I just want to hold you forever now that you’re back.”

I didn’t know how it was possible, but Thomas hugged me even tighter and I loved every second of it.

“I’m too tired to kill you, Gally. Just get out of my sight.” He warned, his voice stern. “Go now before I change my mind!”

I tuned out the sound of Gally’s feet crushing grass and twigs as he ran away from us, my mind only focused on the steady pace of Thomas’ beating heart in his chest. He placed kisses on my temple continously and it didn’t help to stop the salty tears streaming down my cheeks.

“I thought I lost you.” I cried.

“Well, I promised you wouldn’t.” He chuckled, his body shaking the both of us as he did. “And I’m not one to break a promise.”

“I’m just glad you’re home with me.”

“(Y/N),” Thomas pulled away so he could stare me deep into my eyes. “You are my home.”

Conversation on a Train

M: We have to kill Mary. How?

G: I know… in an AQUARIUM!!!

M: Oh, cool! But wouldn’t that break the glass and let the fish come pouring in on everyone?

G: Nah, never mind the glass. We’ll kill her in an aquarium, because we likened CAM to a shark, with cold, dead eyes!

M: OK. OK. This is great.

G: Who will shoot her?

M: Well, it would be great if John shot her to protect Sherlock from her assassinating ways!

G: Yeah, that would be cool, wouldn’t it? Imagine the guilt both John and Sherlock would feel over that. And it would settle the damned assassination subplot anyway. How can John be pleasantly married to someone who shot and killed Sherlock?

(Both grow quiet, pondering the unlikelihood of the marriage.)

M: What about the baby?

G: Well, obviously, we can’t have a baby on the show. Who would watch her when the boys went on their adventures?

M: Why did we add that subplot to TSOT?

G: I don’t remember. Well… anyway, we’ll write the baby off somehow.

(Tea service arrives; boys take a break.)

M: Now, where were we?

G: Killing Mary IN AN AQUARIUM!

M: Oh, yeah. Who will shoot her?

G: Um… I forget what we were saying. Um… how about… Hmm…

M: I know! Let’s make it a secretary from that secret group that Mycroft and Lady Alicia Smallwood belong to.

G: Lady Alicia? Isn’t it Elizabeth?

M: Is it? I don’t remember. We can look it up later.

G: OK… so the secretary… oh, I’ve got a great idea! What if the secretary is aiming for SHERLOCK, and Mary jumps in front of the bullet?!

M: Oh, man, that’s COOL! And then blood can like spurt out of the wound!

G: And Mary can have beautiful final conversations with John AND Sherlock and tell them both how wonderful they are.

M: Might it be biologically unlikely for a dying woman to have a conversation? When we wrote HLV, didn’t some medical person give us some advice about bullet wounds and shock and loss of consciousness?

G: Hmm… I don’t remember. Never mind for now. We can look it up later.

(Boys take a small nap.)

M: Mark! Mark! Wake up! I just had a cool dream.

G: What was it?

M: What if there is a SISTER! Sherlock and Mycroft have a SISTER!

G: Oh, cool. Let’s name her Eurus, like “East Wind.”

M: Eurus, yeah! Yeah! And maybe… is she a good sister who died tragically when they were young? Which caused Sherlock to close off his feelings and explains, a bit, why he devoted himself to logic and intellect?

G: No… too simple… let’s maker her EVIL. Like, super evil. Eviller than Moriarty!

M: Yeaaaaaah. Super Evil! And she’s a Holmes, so she has to be the smartest Holmes. And she can CONTROL PEOPLE WITH HER MIND!!!!

M & G: And WE CAN BUILD HER A FORTRESS PRISON ON A SCARY ISLAND!!!

(Several minutes of delighted cackling.)

M: So Eurus is in secret fortress prison, but… she can control people with her mind, so she can come and go whenever she wants.

G: She can flirt wtih John if she wears a red wig!

M: And she can hang out with Sherlock and eat chips if she wears a blonde wig!

G: And she can be John’s new therapist if she wears a gray wig! And John won’t recognize her because he’s a dumb fuck and she can CONTROL PEOPLE WITH HER MIND!!!

M: AND SHE CAN SHOOT JOHN!

G: OMG, this is SO FUCKING GOOD. Groundbreaking television!!!

M: But before she shoots John, John and Sherlock can make up with a hug.

G: Um… Why were they fighting?

M: Um… because John thinks Mary’s death was Sherlock’s fault because Mary took the bullet for Sherlock? In the aquarium?

G: OK. But can John beat Sherlock up very badly first?

M: Yeah. Yeah. Good.

G: Now… just to keep them hopping, let’s throw in some kind of memory-changing IV drug. We can call it T12.

M: Oh, yeah. That sounds mysterious. Will it have any bearing on Sherlock’s strangely missing memories of his sister? Or the weirdness of the island fortress or the AIRPLANE GIRL PLOT I just made up? This girl is alone on a plane and all the adults are asleep and she calls Sherlock!!

G: No. No bearing. No connection. But I love AIRPLANE GIRL PLOT.

M: Like… she’s flying over cities. They have to make her crash the plane over water!

G: You know what else I want to do?

M: What?

G: UmbrellaSwordGun. Remember when we drew that in our notebook that one time!?

M: Totally. Let’s UmbrellaSwordGun the hell out of Mycroft. And –

M & G (in unison): BLEEDING EYEBALL PORTRAIT!!

(Laughter)

M: Eurus can chain John in a well.

G: Didn’t she already shoot John?

M: Never mind that. She can chain John in a well… um… like she did many years ago…

G: To Sherlock’s dog REDBEARD!!

M: No! No! To Sherlock’s best friend VICTOR TREVOR! Whom he CALLS Redbeard!!

G: But let’s make a dog bowl anyway and write “Redbeard” on it.

M: Obviously.

G: So, John’s in a well with the dead dog…

M: Dead BOY.

G: Dead BOY… right… and he chained in there… and Sherlock has to hug his sister so she’ll tell him where John is!

M: I thought we were on the Fortress Prison Island?

G: Yeah yeah that was like ten seconds ago. Now we’re back at the Holmes estate and there are lots of creepy headstones with fake dates on them? And John is in a well. And the water is rising.

M: So Sherlock keeps having water flashbacks all through this season. Even he could fight a bad guy in a pool and almost drown! Because childhood trauma!!!

G: But Sherlock doesn’t know that the dog drowned.

M: BOY drowned.

G: Sherlock doesn’t know that the boy drowned, so why would he have water fears?

M: Never mind that. Silly details.

G: And Sherlock finally gets his sister to tell him where John is, and they throw a rope to him and he climbs out of the well.

M: Isn’t he chained?

G: That was like ten seconds ago. Now he’s fine, and BLANKET.

M: Can Greg be there?

G: Yeah, yeah!

M: He’s not in London?

G: No, he’s by the well.

(Both men lean back in thick, cozy self-approval.)

(Several minutes pass.)

M: Can we blow up 221B as well?

G: DRONE?

M: YES! Drone.

M & G (in unison): GRENADE DRONE!!

(Both men settle in for happy, contented naps.)

We often wonder why God gives and takes, constricts and expands. What we forget is that human beings understand things by their opposites. Without dark, we can’t understand light. Without hardship, we wouldn’t *experience* ease. Without the existence of deprivation and loss, we couldn’t grasp the need for gratitude or the virtue of patience. And without separation, we wouldn’t taste the sweetness of reunion.
Glory be to the one who gives—even when He takes.

- Yasmin Mogahed

When I was 5, I sat on the edge of my chair with my legs spread. I felt an itch between them, so I reached down to scratch, but my grandma grabbed my wrist to stop me and hissed: “Girls don’t do that!” I asked her why, because I had seen my father doing it, I had seen all the boys in primary school doing it, too. And it itched and I wanted to scratch it. Her answer was: “It’s just how it is. Girls don’t do that. Also, don’t sit there with your legs spread like that. Girls don’t do that, either.”

When I was 6, I spent a day on the beach with my family. I was excited about the new bikini my mum got me, but confused as to why she asked me to keep the top on when I went for a swim. She hadn’t made me wear it the years before, but suddenly, she was very fussy about it. “Look, I’ve got one on, too.”, she said to me. And I thought I understood: Women had to cover their breasts, because they were bigger than mens’. But I wasn’t a woman. I was a child. Later, I overheard a talk she had with my dad. “I don’t want old men to stare at her.”, she whispered. I interrupted them and asked her why she thought old men would look at me. Her answer was: “It’s just how it is. It’s because you’re a girl. And men do that.”

When I was 9, I got in a fight with my best friend. I went home and complained about it to my grandma, who lived with us. She told me I should have seen it coming. “That’s how girls are.”, she said. “A friendship between girls is always also a competition. Girls are jealous, manipulative and backstabbing. You can’t trust them.” But I had never fought with my best friend before and I knew we’d forgive and forget the next day, anyway. So, I asked my grandma why, and her answer was: “It’s just how it is. Catfights will happen. It’s normal. That’s how girls are.”

When I was 13, I fell in love with a boy from the neighbourhood. I couldn’t hide my excitement. He was on my mind all the time and I caught myself wishing we were together, so I could hold his hand and kiss him, too. I wanted to meet him, get to know him better, and I told my dad about my plan of asking him out. “Don’t do that.”, my dad said. “It’s not appropriate for a girl to ask a boy out.” Though I partly agreed, since I had never seen a woman proposing to the man in a movie, or read about a girl kissing her crush first, I still didn’t understand what would be so bad about being an exception, so I asked my dad why I had to wait for a boy to show interest in me in order to be allowed to openly requite it. His answer was: “It’s just how it is, darling. The man makes the first move. It’s always been this way. Boys like to conquer, and girls love being chased.”

When I was 17, I was part of a large group of friends. There was a boy who fancied me. I didn’t like him back, but I wasn’t used to anyone crushing on me, so I enjoyed the attention. He’d always tell me I was special. One of a kind. Different. “You’re not like other girls.”, he said. “You’re not a bitch. You’re funny, laid back, intelligent. You don’t just care about your nails or your hair. You get my sense of humour. You’re not like most girls. You’re my best guy friend. But with tits.” I was flattered in the beginning, but soon, I started to wonder if his compliments were any at all. I began to feel disgusted with him. I didn’t want to be his best guy friend with tits. So I asked him what’s so good about a girl like me, a girl unlike what he called a typical one, and his answer was: “That’s easy to explain. A pretty model type of girl is good enough to jack off to, but in the end, a guy wants some drama free pussy. You’re an exception. The majority of girls is superficial and slutty. The kind of girl you fuck, but dump when you’re ready to settle down. Or they’re just plain boring and prude. This sounds harsh, but it’s just how it is.”

When I was 19, there was a boy I regularly had sex with. It was nice. Not the breathtaking kind of passionate, ecstatic fucking I had dreamed of; maybe we lacked chemistry, maybe it would have been nicer if we had been in love; but I was alright with it. I adapted, obeyed and swallowed. Of course I did. In the beginning, he really put an effort in giving me what I gave him. He really tried. But his attempts at putting his tongue to good work quickly faded into halfheartedly rubbing me dry and at some point, he said: “I’m giving up.” I asked him why. His answer was: “It’s so hard to get a girl off. You women need ages to cum. It’s so exhausting.” I laughed and told him I needed about two minutes when I did it on my own. “Then stick to that.”, he said. “I’ve got a cramp in my wrist. Women are so complicated. It’s just how it is. I’m sorry.”

I am 20 now, and I’ve come to realize that my female identity has been shaped by a biased, hypocritical excuse based on ridiculous gender roles: “It’s just how it is.” All my life, I have asked them why, and all they said was “It’s just how it is.” And it didn’t matter whether I’ve asked men or women. Internalized misogyny is just as harmful. There were as many women as men who said: “It’s just how it is.” But that is not the answer I wanted. Not the answer I needed. These few words don’t fucking answer the countless questions concerning my gender identity.

Why can’t I sit with my legs spread? What’s so shameful about what I keep between them? Why must I cover my breasts? Why am I being sexualized long before I’m even told when sex is? Why am I being taught to mistrust other girls? Why do I have to compete with other girls? Why am I only a good girl when I’m not like most girls? Why do I have to keep quiet about the way I feel? Why am I not allowed to show affection like men do? Can’t I conquer a boy’s heart, too? Why must love be about conquering, anyway? What if I don’t like being chased? What if it scares me? Why do boys scare me, anyway? Why do you make me feel inferior to them? And why do I have to like a boy in order to be liked? Why am I being shamed for being a “slut”, them shamed for being “prude”? Why am I expected to adapt, obey and swallow without praise when boys who return the favour are considered grateful, dedicated lovers, heroes, almost ,because to the majority of them, it’s not fucking understood that if I make them cum, they should make me cum, too? Why am I exhausting to be with? Why am I complicated?

Is it because I’m a bitch? Because I’m an oversensitive little baby? Is it because I’m a slut? A prude virgin? Is it because I’m on my period? Cause women are just crazy? Cause I am jealous, manipulative, backstabbing, competitive or any of the other countless negative traits that are immediately connected with the female identity? All summed up, is it because I’m a girl?

I’ve asked them. And they said yes.

And when I asked “But why?”, they said it again: “It’s just how it is.”

“It” is that context, is a never ending circle of resigning acceptance of the circumstance that girls are being raised to disrespect their own gender from their childhood on. I was, and am, expected to accept the fact that being female automatically makes me inferior, and that I should be thankful for being treated equally, because that’s not the standard. I was, and am, expected to appreciate and take it as a compliment when people tell me that I’m not like other women. Because I was, and am, expected to look down on women even though I am a woman myself. But I refuse. I refuse to adapt, obey and swallow. I refuse to accept that “it’s just how it is”. I refuse to take this as an answer, and I will not stop asking why. I won’t ever stop asking why. Not because I want people to give me a proper response, but because I want them to question themselves, too. I want them to start wondering. Want them to start doubting the concept of the role I’ve learned to stick to before I knew how to spell my “typically female” name. I want them to think about it, lose their sleep about it, until they ask, too: “Why?”

In order to eliminate misogynic stereotypes, we must unlearn to understand them. We must refuse to accept “It’s just how it is” as an answer, until we forget what “it” stands for. Keep asking why, until nobody knows an answer anymore. “It’s just how it is” is not an answer. Neither is “It’s cause you’re a girl”. Or “That’s how girls are”. Because girls can be everything and anything they want to be. That’s how it really is.

—  I REFUSE!, a rant on how my female identity has been shaped by excuses and lies
What We Seem to Forget About the Signs
  • Aries: they're really fragile internally, and you really need to handle with care
  • Taurus: they're actually really good at reading people and are very smart, but they keep it in most of the time
  • Gemini: they support you no matter what you do, no matter how many times you change what you want to do, like your own personal cheerleader
  • Cancer: no matter how many times you hurt them, they stick around because they get it and they think they can help you and YOU DON'T DESERVE THEM
  • Leo: they're the type of people to put things back where they belong in the grocery store because they don't want to inconvenience someone
  • Virgo: they're very creative and make some of the best storytellers, and they're definitely not as rigid as people make them out to be
  • Libra: for an air sign, they're also extremely loyal, especially to the people they really care about
  • Scorpio: they just want to have fun and live in a romantic comedy and have a happily ever after but instead the world is a horror movie and it's safer for them to be tough and reserved and suspicious
  • Sagittarius: we seem to forget that you can't mess with them, because their minds are brutally honest and they're a scarily perceptive judge of character
  • Capricorn: they should be dubbed the sexual ones, more so than scorpio, because they're the ones more likely to search for intimacy without an emotional connection
  • Aquarius: they try really hard, all the time, in whatever they do, and they rarely get credit for it; their whole personality is just them trying really hard to hide who they are
  • Pisces: a lot meaner than they're made out to be; not that they're mean in general, but they're meaner than the sweet angels we sometimes see them as
What we forget about the elements
  • Fire - Aries, Leo, Sagittarius: Fire is not just limitless energy that gives and gives, these Signs are not the joyous, endlessly outgoing people they are portrayed to be. Fire is also the Element of destruction, hunger and pain. Fire Signs are not just happy go lucky kids, they're hungry for power, they're determined, they're not to be reckoned with.
  • Earth - Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn: Earth is the Element of support and cold strength but without the proper care and attention Earth becomes lifeless, unable to create and maintain the way these Signs are meant to. Earth Signs need interaction, attention, and care the same as all other Elements to stay as strong as they are.
  • Air - Gemini, Libra, Aquarius: Air is known for its focus on the mental and avoidance of emotion but these are not the mechanical people they are often portrayed as. Air Signs need to interact with others, to speak and communicate about all things, including emotion. Connecting with others is always key to this Element. They are warm and open, not cold or inhuman.
  • Water - Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces: "Emotional" is the word that comes to mind when most think of Water Signs but we often misinterpret "emotional" for "sad" or "weak". Water Signs feel their every emotion: rage, desire, joy - every single one - as if it were a tidal wave. They are in touch with their true selves and there is nothing more powerful than that.
  • *Remember to check your dominant element*

When I was 5,
I sat on the edge of my chair with my legs spread.
I felt an itch between them, so I reached down to scratch,
but my grandma grabbed my wrist to stop me and hissed:
“Girls don’t do that!” I asked her why,
because I had seen my father doing it, I had seen all the boys in primary school doing it, too.
And it itched and I wanted to scratch it.
Her answer was: “It’s just how it is. Girls don’t do that. Also, don’t sit there with your legs spread like that. Girls don’t do that, either.”
When I was 6,
I spent a day on the beach with my family.
I was excited about the new bikini my mum got me,
but confused as to why she asked me to keep the top on when I went for a swim.
She hadn’t made me wear it the years before,
but suddenly, she was very fussy about it.
“Look, I’ve got one on, too.”, she said to me.
And I thought I understood: Women had to cover their breasts,
because they were bigger than mens’. But I wasn’t a woman.
I was a child.
Later, I overheard a talk she had with my dad.
“I don’t want old men to stare at her.”, she whispered.
I interrupted them and asked her why she thought old men would look at me.
Her answer was: “It’s just how it is. It’s because you’re a girl. And men do that.”
When I was 9,
I got in a fight with my best friend.
I went home and complained about it to my grandma, who lived with us.
She told me I should have seen it coming.
“That’s how girls are.”, she said.
“A friendship between girls is always also a competition. Girls are jealous, manipulative and backstabbing. You can’t trust them.”
But I had never fought with my best friend before
and I knew we’d forgive and forget the next day, anyway.
So, I asked my grandma why,
and her answer was: “It’s just how it is. Catfights will happen. It’s normal. That’s how girls are.”
When I was 13,
I fell in love with a boy from the neighbourhood.
I couldn’t hide my excitement.
He was on my mind all the time
and I caught myself wishing we were together,
so I could hold his hand and kiss him, too.
I wanted to meet him, get to know him better,
and I told my dad about my plan of asking him out.
“Don’t do that.”, my dad said. “It’s not appropriate for a girl to ask a boy out.”
Though I partly agreed,
since I had never seen a woman proposing to the man in a movie,
or read about a girl kissing her crush first,
I still didn’t understand what would be so bad about being an exception,
so I asked my dad why I had to wait for a boy to show interest in me
in order to be allowed to openly requite it.
His answer was: “It’s just how it is, darling. The man makes the first move. It’s always been this way. Boys like to conquer, and girls love being chased.”
When I was 17,
I was part of a large group of friends.
There was a boy who fancied me.
I didn’t like him back,
but I wasn’t used to anyone crushing on me,
so I enjoyed the attention.
He’d always tell me I was special.
One of a kind. Different.
“You’re not like other girls.”, he said.
“You’re not a bitch. You’re funny, laid back, intelligent.
You don’t just care about your nails or your hair. You get my sense of humour.
You’re not like most girls. You’re my best guy friend. But with tits.”
I was flattered in the beginning,
but soon, I started to wonder if his compliments were any at all.
I began to feel disgusted with him.
I didn’t want to be his best guy friend with tits.
So I asked him what’s so good about a girl like me,
a girl unlike what he called a typical one,
and his answer was: “That’s easy to explain.
A pretty model type of girl is good enough to jack off to,
but in the end, a guy wants some drama free pussy.
You’re an exception. The majority of girls is superficial and slutty.
The kind of girl you fuck, but dump when you’re ready to settle down.
Or they’re just plain boring and prude. This sounds harsh, but it’s just how it is.”
When I was 19,
there was a boy I regularly had sex with.
It was nice. Not the breathtaking kind of passionate, ecstatic fucking I had dreamed of;
maybe we lacked chemistry,
maybe it would have been nicer if we had been in love;
but I was alright with it. I adapted, obeyed and swallowed.
Of course I did.
In the beginning, he really put an effort in giving me what I gave him.
He really tried.
But his attempts at putting his tongue to good work quickly faded into halfheartedly rubbing me dry and at some point, he said: “I’m giving up.” I asked him why.
His answer was: “It’s so hard to get a girl off.
You women need ages to cum. It’s so exhausting.”
I laughed and told him I needed about two minutes when I did it on my own.
“Then stick to that.”, he said. “I’ve got a cramp in my wrist.
Women are so complicated. It’s just how it is. I’m sorry.”
I am 20 now,
and I’ve come to realize that my female identity
has been shaped by a biased,
hypocritical excuse based on ridiculous gender roles:
“It’s just how it is.”
All my life, I have asked them why,
and all they said was “It’s just how it is.”
And it didn’t matter whether I’ve asked men or women.
Internalized misogyny is just as harmful.
There were as many women as men who said: “It’s just how it is.”
But that is not the answer I wanted.
Not the answer I needed.
These few words don’t fucking answer the countless questions concerning my gender identity.
Why can’t I sit with my legs spread?
What’s so shameful about what I keep between them?
Why must I cover my breasts?
Why am I being sexualized long before I’m even told when sex is?
Why am I being taught to mistrust other girls?
Why do I have to compete with other girls?
Why am I only a good girl when I’m not like most girls?
Why do I have to keep quiet about the way I feel?
Why am I not allowed to show affection like men do?
Can’t I conquer a boy’s heart, too?
Why must love be about conquering, anyway?
What if I don’t like being chased?
What if it scares me?
Why do boys scare me, anyway?
Why do you make me feel inferior to them?
And why do I have to like a boy in order to be liked?
Why am I being shamed for being a “slut”, them shamed for being “prude”?
Why am I expected to adapt, obey and swallow without praise when boys who return the favour are considered grateful, dedicated lovers, heroes, almost ,because to the majority of them, it’s not fucking understood that if I make them cum, they should make me cum, too?
Why am I exhausting to be with?
Why am I complicated?
Is it because I’m a bitch?
Because I’m an oversensitive little baby?
Is it because I’m a slut?
A prude virgin?
Is it because I’m on my period?
Cause women are just crazy?
Cause I am jealous, manipulative, backstabbing, competitive
or any of the other countless negative traits
that are immediately connected with the female identity?
All summed up, is it because I’m a girl?
I’ve asked them.
And they said yes.
And when I asked “But why?”,
they said it again: “It’s just how it is.”
“It” is that context, is a never ending circle
of resigning acceptance of the circumstance
that girls are being raised to disrespect their own gender from their childhood on.
I was, and am, expected to accept the fact that being female automatically makes me inferior,
and that I should be thankful for being treated equally,
because that’s not the standard.
I was, and am, expected to appreciate
and take it as a compliment when people tell me that I’m not like other women.
Because I was, and am, expected to look down on women
even though I am a woman myself.
But I refuse. I refuse to adapt, obey and swallow.
I refuse to accept that “it’s just how it is”.
I refuse to take this as an answer,
and I will not stop asking why.
I won’t ever stop asking why.
Not because I want people to give me a proper response,
but because I want them to question themselves, too.
I want them to start wondering.
Want them to start doubting the concept of the role
I’ve learned to stick to before I knew how to spell my “typically female” name.
I want them to think about it,
lose their sleep about it, until they ask, too: “Why?”
In order to eliminate misogynic stereotypes, we must unlearn to understand them.
We must refuse to accept “It’s just how it is” as an answer,
until we forget what “it” stands for.
Keep asking why, until nobody knows an answer anymore.
“It’s just how it is” is not an answer.
Neither is “It’s cause you’re a girl”.
Or “That’s how girls are”.
Because girls can be everything and anything they want to be.
That’s how it really is.

anonymous asked:

This sounds weird but could you give some advice to other fanfiction writers? You're really good. 💕

oh my goooooooood where are all you lovely people coming from tonight?? 

alrighty, let’s give this a go!

Fanfic Tips:

Character Motivation

This is my biggest thing. You should always, at any given moment, know what every character in a scene wants. What they want is going to dictate how they act and react to things. Without characters wanting things, nobody ever does anything, and your fic doesn’t exist. 

When characters have different motivations and have to come together, magic happens. And as characters develop, their motivations change. 

Great example?

what Luke wants (general motivation: freedom -> The Right Thing): to get off his uncle’s farm and get to go be with his friends at the academy -> to be a Jedi and fight for the rebellion -> to learn more but also keep his friends safe -> to redeem his father.

what Leia wants (general motivation: fight Empire): to get the Death Star plans to the rebel base and find Obi-Wan Kenobi -> to not be in the Empire’s clutches -> to blow up the Death star -> to not be in the Empire’s clutches -> to save Han -> to blow up the other Death Star 

what Han wants (general motivation: self-preservation -> protect friends): to get his hands on some money so that he doesn’t get killed by a mob boss -> to escape the empire -> to help the rebellion/keep his friends safe

(Obi-Wan, meanwhile, pretty much just wants to keep Luke safe, and help the rebellion if he can.)

All different, all interweaving, most of them changing as the characters are influenced by others, and learn and grow. 

So yeah. You gotta know this shit about your characters - it’s crucial. 

Tip? If you’re unsure about whether you know what they want, try making a list of all the important characters in your fic (and then potentially do this with most scenes, briefly) and work out what their main motivation/what they want is. Just…in general. In life. And then, once you’re in a scene, see how this plays into what they want in this exact moment, and how they’re going to go about trying to get it. 

Know Your Source Material

You don’t have to be an expert in your fandom to write fanfic, but the more you know, the easier it is to move through the world and build a story, because you know where you’re going and how things work. Wikis are your friend, especially when working in big universes like DW or SW. (Like, hell, I might know a lot about DW, and feel very comfortable in that universe, but I still find myself on the TARDIS Index File all the time, checking little random things. It’s a damn godsend, and every fandom has a wiki.)

Your Characters Are Just People

Make sure you let your characters fuck up once in a while. They’re fallible beings, they’re going to make rash decisions that backfire, they’re going to try something and fail, they’re going to say the wrong thing and piss somebody off. They’re going to maybe mean well but fuck up majorly, and that’s okay, that’s good. Let them apologise, let them learn from the consequences, let the healing of a wound in a relationship bring the people closer together. 

And yes, this still goes for characters that almost never do anything wrong, or are all ‘holier than thou’. They are still gonna go about some things the wrong way. 

Planning Is Good, But Be Flexible 

In my experience, while some people lean heavily towards one or the other, appropriate use of planning or gardening can depend heavily on what kind of story you’re writing. 

When writing more action based storylines, I’ve found it’s very easy to get stuck in the middle of them - you get the characters into a mess and get stuck for a month not knowing how to get them out. This is where planning tends to be handy. A good way of not getting stuck is to plan it all out in little increments, so there’s not too much room to get stuck. Also, plotting from the back. Start at the end. Works really well a lot of the time. 

If planning works for you, plan as much as you want. But, always, always, be ready to change something, if you try a bit of gardening and end up somewhere different to where you expected to be. Always follow what feels right over sticking with a plan. 

Gardening aka Let The Characters Take The Lead

…this is fanfic. Let’s be honest, we know that most of it is juicy interpersonal stuff. So while planning is all well and good, I think gardening works a lot better. When writing the maths teacher fic, I went in pretty much blind. I had a couple of vague ideas of what I wanted to achieve, but I also wanted the relationship I was developing to be as absolutely genuine/believable as possible (which, according to the general consensus, it is). 

The way to do that?

Don’t try and force things between the characters. Sometimes you might start a scene with a particular moment in mind, and that’s all good, but for me personally, I’ve found that you tend to get results that are more organic by simply going into a scene blind and seeing what the characters do. You should still, hopefully, have an idea of what you want to happen, but the characters and their ways of reacting to things should always come first. 

Seriously, if you’ve got the characterisation down, they’ll do the hard work for you. 

Maybe they’ll get to where you wanted, maybe they won’t. But it’s actually a really fun ride, doing it this way. When are they going to kiss? When are they going to fuck? Who knows? Not me! How could I know, when I haven’t yet seen/created the unique and particular path of events that gets them to that point? 

Like, I went into a chapter once, intending for a child character to kill a guy. But when it came to writing the scene, I just wasn’t quite sure if she would actually do it, even with her evil psychopathic mother egging her on. So I gave the kid the reins/gun, and sat back to see what happened. She ended up shooting him non-fatally, only for him to be killed by the vaguely disappointed mother instead. I was like “oh, okay, cool, that works”. 

Garden. Have fun letting the characters surprise you!

Dialogue

Dialogue is the make or break of a story, really. And the trick to dialogue is to make it authentic, and give the characters their own unique voices. 

First one is simple. Make sure the dialogue sounds like how people actually talk. Anyone who has read any of my fics knows that I use “-” and “…” and “um” and “uh” liberally. That’s because humans, modern day ones at least, aren’t always the most eloquent of creatures. We mumble and say the wrong thing, or get distracted halfway through, or forget what we were going to say, and hesitate when we’re unsure (even posh, eloquent characters, they just do it less and use bigger words in between). Let the characters do this. 

Saying the dialogue out loud will help a lot. Also, you could also try verbally paraphrasing a conversation from the fic to a friend, and you’ll likely find some of the dialogue coming out a lot more casually/authentically. 

As for giving the characters their own unique voices, that’s just down to knowing your canon and being in tune with the characters, which is a crucial thing but unfortunately not something I can really give advice on, you’ve gotta get those in your head on your own. 

Details Matter

Different details matter in different stories. And getting them wrong can really break the immersion.

If you’re writing characters that come from a different place to you, make sure you know how people from that place talk! Americans, don’t you fucking dare have a British character call somebody ‘Mom’, it breaks the immersion completely and makes me want to punch something. It’s ‘Mum’, for anyone from UK/Aus/NZ. And same with Brits writing American characters, but the other way around. This goes for any UK/US/Aus/NZ/Canada language difference. Find out what your character calls things.

Working details out can seem unnecessary, or going over the top, but honestly, half the time you realise that you’ve gone and got something wrong, and next thing you know the entire plot has a gaping hole in it, or a character doesn’t know something they got told three months back, but you forgot about it. 

Like, okay, I have a day by day plan of the timeline of the maths teacher fic (and, going forward, its general universe), because I was trying to weave in all this original material through the show canon (and now, write several stories/oneshot set at the same time within that verse, focused on different characters/things), and if I hadn’t done that, I would have royally fucked myself over multiple times. 

I’m not saying everyone has to make a timeline that detailed, because for a lot of stories it wouldn’t be remotely necessary, but it was for this particular one. 

But just details in general. Do your research, check that thing on the wiki, get specific with details about a character, even if they’re just a minor one (though maybe stick to just one or two details, in this case). 

This kind of goes along with show, don’t tell. Like you could tell the readers blatantly that a character loves a thing, or you could talk about how they wearing clothing printed with the thing and have them jabbering on about it excitedly, you know? 

Don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need information!

Seek out people who are experts in something you need to know about. This might be kink (bless the friends I’ve made through fic in the last six months or so, who have helped me in this area), or something specific to their country’s society/culture/choice of words for a certain thing. 

Also, if you’re trying to add diversity in your fics, and you hopefully should be, ask friends or people on Tumblr from within the group you’re trying to include to get information! Want to write a trans guy? Go find a trans guy to talk to about it! (I did this with a demigirl character recently, and got about four or five really helpful people more than happy to give me the info I was looking for, they were really excited about the prospect of demigirl characters existing at all.) It’s really easy to add in background diversity regardless of what fandom you’re writing for, and it can make a lot of difference to any readers who find themselves unexpectedly represented, even if only in a minor or one time character. 

In Conclusion:

Know your characters, and what they want, and how they talk. Let them lead the story, because they’re why you’re here, and doing all this. Give them real and imperfect voices and qualities, and let them make mistakes and apologise.

And do your research, so you get the details right.

I hope this helped! Now, go forth and write!

(And have fun! That’s the other big rule. Do it out of love, make yourself laugh, just have fun with it!) 

Mick: Why are we doing this again?

Jax: To save Rip.

Sara: Right. Because Rip’s one of us, and no matter what happens, no matter what obstacles we face, we never forget one of our own.

Amaya: We left Nathaniel and Raymond back in Feudal Japan.

Sara: Okay, from now on, no matter what happens, we never forget one of our own.

(A table of contents is available. This series will remain open for additional posts and the table of contents up-to-date as new posts are added.)

Part Four: Enriching the World Through Dialogue

We often think that world-building must be done through narration, that we only showcase our world and our world’s potential through the use of long paragraphs detailing the style of the carts and the architecture of the city, the clothing and hairstyles, and on and on with all the details our hearts desire. What we often forget is how tiring long paragraphs of these kinds of observations can be. Dialogue can be an extremely useful tool for introducing information about your world without feeling constrained to the narrative voice of the piece.

What’s normal and what’s not.

Have you ever been talking to someone and you mention a store you frequent or the flock of turkeys that forced you to stop on your way across town, and the other person gives you the blankest stare. Experiences across the world–even across town–are not the same (just to state the obvious for a minute). The variations found in everyone’s lives can become fantastic opportunities when you put two people from different places together because they will automatically be more likely to point out differences and ignore similarities.

Acknowledging things that are common vs. uncommon in a setting may not seem particularly important, but think of it this way: You’re writing a world entirely different than ours, which means that we can’t imagine all the things that are possible within this new world. How are we to know when something out of the ordinary presents itself to the characters unless the characters let us know? The way your characters talk about certain aspects of the world will help give the audience a better understanding of what normal life is like. To set up something scary and unnatural for the world, we need to know what the opposite looks like.

Remember that with movies, we can tell what the focus is and what the movie considers important by how much time is spent on/with it. Utilize the same concept to create the contrast of ordinary and extraordinary to help your audience easily make those distinctions. Of course, it’s not that you shouldn’t mention normal things at all, but that neither a full page conversation nor a full paragraph of description needs to be given to them. Draw attention to the extraordinary, coax it to the forefront.

Use dialogue to illustrate these little nuances. Have characters remark on things to each other and tell each other short stories that give the audience context. This is especially useful when you have a collection of character who aren’t from the same place. Regional variants on food, architecture, creatures, and customs give you great opportunities to build your world through quick moments between characters. “It’s strange to see all these grey horses. Most of ours are brown.” Even something as simple as this shows your audience that there’s more out there than what’s on-screen at the moment.

There are plenty of times when working these kinds of details into narration feel awkward. Remember that you have this other tool–dialogue–to utilize, too. Working it into conversation can work in a dynamic way not only building your world, but also your character. More on that another day.

Mechanics of the world.

When writing in worlds with some really complex systems like magic, or a very deeply developed set of cultures, religions, and all the rest that come with a whole new world, it can be very tempting to use our characters’ mouths to try to explain it to our readers. It’s a fantastic opportunity, especially when we’re able to put characters into a situation where they can ask, “Why? Why isn’t it working? Why did that happen? Why can’t we use that idea?” These platforms for information are so convenient, but without keeping a couple of things in mind when crafting these conversations, diary entries, letters, and other forms of communication, they can become info-dumps just as easily as narration can.

Keep voice in mind. Whether you’re trying to convey how something works through a written dialogue or a spoken one, your words are not actually yours. They belong to the character speaking them. Make sure you keep them in mind. You need to be using their vocabulary, their opinions, and most of all, their understanding of the world and how it functions. Just because we–as writers–know the very specific inner workings of why one magic works with another but doesn’t work with this other one doesn’t mean that your character does. Yes, it’s that very thing that enables us to set up these “why” scenarios, but it’s the same reason why answering those questions cannot and should not be a regurgitation of your planning notebook.

In a video game, we know the mechanics programmed into the server that allows for this or doesn’t allow for that, and we can explain it to each other, but our characters only know what they can see and observe through the technology available to them according to the time period of their story. Remember that. Remember that you can’t just have a character say, “I can’t cast that anymore today because I’m out of fifth level spells.” It needs to use words and an understanding of the world that are true to them, not true to us.

Lastly, with world mechanics and dialogue, keep it short, light, and in character. The more time you dwell on whatever it is you’re trying to explain, the more likely it will become uncharacteristic both for the speaking character and for the story’s tone. It’ll bog down a scene faster than a sinkhole in the road. Giving these kinds of world-building details are best done by showing the system in action rather than trying to explain it. Dialogue is the easy way out in this case. Challenge yourself to create scenarios that force your characters to use and showcase the abilities of the various systems in your world.

Next up: Character-building through dialogue!

Late Night Cuddles; Yuta

Request: “Hi! I was wondering if I could ask for a Yuta scenario? The scenario can be him and his S/O having random talks while having a late night cuddle please? Oh and random question, who’s your bias?? :P Tysm!!”

Word Count: 1460

Genre: Fluff (Like a lot of it)

Warnings: Cheesiness 

A/N - to answer your question my bias is the beautiful and talented Taeyong <3

Originally posted by suhyngho


Warmth. That was what you felt in the arms of the one you loved. The TV was playing, but you weren’t paying any attention to it, your attention was focused on Yuta’s arms that were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest. You were partially lying on him trying to fit on the small two seat couch. Your head was pressed against his chest, moving up and down when he breathed in and out. You could hear the rhythm of his heart like the beat of a drum; music to your ears. There was a blanket thrown across the both of you, your legs tangled together under the covers.

sighing with content you wrapped your arms around his waist, mirroring what he was doing to you. You glanced up at him. His head was resting on the arm of the chair as he watched the TV. You stared at your boyfriend, the light of the TV reflecting in his eyes and his hair messily hanging just above them. This was normally what you did on a Saturday night when Yuta had finally finished practicing and had free time. You didn’t go out for a fancy dinner date, or a spontaneous walk in the park, but cuddled while watching TV. But you didn’t mind, you loved being in Yuta’s arms more than anything else in the world.

“Do you want to take a picture-”

“It will last longer?” You finished for him, already knowing what he was going to say. You’d got used to Yuta’s outbursts of sarcasm over the time you’d been dating, and had found your own ways of dealing with it.

He turned to look at you, his gaze moved away from the show you were watching and landed on your face. He laughed making your head vibrate against his chest, “Am I that predictable?”

“Just a little bit,” You smiled back at him, biting your lip to keep from laughing. Yuta removed one of his hands from your waist and messed up your hair, “Hey!”

He stopped his hands from moving, “You look funny”, he held the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks. Grabbing his hands, you pushed them off your face, lifting off from his chest you leaned close to his face before squishing his cheeks. You laughed at him, his lips were pouted and you couldn’t help but peck them in the middle of your giggles. Your hands loosened and fell from his face.

Yuta stared at you in adoration. It was the first time he’d realised he wanted to be with you forever, that he loved you more than anything or anyone else. A light smile crossed his features as he continued to stare. He cupped your cheeks again, but instead of squishing, which you thought he was going to do, he brought your lips up to his.

The feeling of his lips against yours made your cheeks heat up. You loved him so much, and in that moment you realised he loved you too. His thumbs rubbed circles on your cheeks as he slowly moved his lips against yours. The type of kiss was unlike Yuta as he usually likes the rough and quick kisses than the sweet and sensual type of kisses, but you weren’t complaining. You loved this side of Yuta.

What you thought was sensual kiss, however, after a couple more minutes turned into Yuta’s usual rough ones. His hands, that were holding your face, started to trail his hands down your body until they reached your hips where he grabbed them tightly. When you thought he was going to take it further, he stilled his lips against yours and pulled away slowly. 

You watched as he moved away, his eyes still closed, looking angelic, When he finally opened his eyes he looked into yours, a small smile playing on his lips, You couldn’t help but ask, “Why’d you stop?”

“As much as I’d want to do it, Y/N, I just want to cuddle.” He pulled you against his chest once again and wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you gently, your head resting under his chin.

“That was cute”, You teased him, and in reply he tightened his arms around you making you breathe in sharply.

He loosened his grip, and you moved so that you could look at his face. It was silent until he said, “You’re cute.”

“Why are you in such a cheesy mood tonight?” You giggled and went back to your original position.

“Do you really want to know why?” He hugged you tighter making you more curious.

“I do want to know,” You hugged him back.

“It’s because I love you.”

Embarrassed, you covered your face with your hands. Yuta laughed at your reaction, and turned you around in his arms so that you were facing him. Picking up the courage, you removed your hands, “Why all of a sudden?”

Hands resting on your back, he started, “because I just realised that I’ve found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with and I want you to know it.”

His words hung in the air. The TV was still on in the background, but the sound seemed to die down until it was just you and Yuta, no distractions, “I love you.” was all you could say.

“I’ll take that as a, ‘Yes, my lovely-amazingly-fabulous-boyfriend, Yuta, I’d love to spend the rest of my life with you. You are the love of my life…’” He teased you making you hit his chest.

“I wouldn’t go that far…” You joked, but you had to admit you’d love to spend the rest of your life with Yuta.

He laughed with you, but stopped to say, “You’re cold. Have you never imagined our future together?”

You made your, ‘thinking’ face, “Nope.” you lied.

“Liar.” 

“Okay, fine. I’ve thought about the future. A lot, actually.” You admit. The joking put to the side. Yuta noticed this and his usual sarcastic facial expression turned to one of caring and seriousness as you both lyed on his old couch,

There was a silence before Yuta spoke, “What do you picture?”

He started to rub circles into you hips, hoping to make you feel relaxed and open up to your dream, “You. You’re there.”

“I’m glad.” He interrupted and you glared at him, “Sorry, carry on.”

“We’ll be married and have a house of our own. Not an overly priced rented flat. I’ll get a better job, you’ll be onto to you sixth album in god knows what unit of NCT. We’ll settle down at some point and… I don’t know… Uh-”

“Have kids?” He helped you. You thought he would tease you, but once again a look of absolute adoration was present in his dark eyes.

“Yes, have kids. Maybe two or three. And a pet. Maybe a cat, you like cats. We’ll wake up to each other every morning for the rest of our lives and it will be… perfect.” You finished and it was silent. You thought you said something wrong until Yuta finally spoke.

“Y/N… Don’t leave me.” His voice was low and quiet, leaving chills run down your spine. However, his reply confused you.

“W-why would I leave you?” You raised your eyebrow slightly.

“I just realised I won’t have a future without you in it.” His eyes locked with yours, and even though you knew it was cheesy, it made your heart flutter. 

You reached up from his chest and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, hugging him closely, “I won’t leave, I promise. But do you think you could do that? Live with me forever? Put up with my bad habits and cooking skills?” 

“Of course, because I love you.” You let go of your hug, looking at his face again. You could tell he was tried, which he normally was on a late Saturday night after practice. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

You snuggled back into his chest, enveloping him in a hug around his waist. The both of lying back down on the couch again, he readjusted the blanket around your shoulder and then turned the TV and the lights off. You guessed you were sleeping here tonight.

“I love our late night cuddles.” He whispered into the darkness.

“And I love you.” You cringed.

“And when I said that earlier, I was cheesy.” He teased and once again you felt the vibration of his chest against your cheek making you laugh lightly,

“Let’s just go to sleep.” You felt yourself grow tireder by the minute and buried your head further into your boyfriends chest.

You thought Yuta was asleep when he said, “Don’t forget what we talked about tonight. The future, that is. Because it’s going to happen. I’m certain of it,” He whispered to you just before you fell asleep. You nodded slightly in acknowledgement. 

Late night cuddles with Yuta were the best. 

We often wonder why God gives and takes, constricts and expands. What we forget is that human beings understand things by their opposites. Without dark, we can’t understand light. Without hardship, we wouldn’t *experience* ease. Without the existence of deprivation and loss, we couldn’t grasp the need for gratitude or the virtue of patience. And without separation, we wouldn’t taste the sweetness of reunion.
Glory be to the one who gives—even when He takes.
—  Yasmin Mogahed