#which was extremely valid but at the same time she was almost a senior and i was just starting high school!!!

[shewrites444]

brother's best friend [xavier plympton x reader smut]

inspired from ahs 1984. written all by me, enjoy ^_^

word count - 3.4k

[summary: the reader and xavier have had some unaddressed sexual tension that's been going on for months now, but it's all unleashed when chet, her older brother, invites the gang over for a sleepover.]

[warnings: only thing i can say is small age gap and risky sex in terms of exactly what the title says. nothing in particular, just smut.]

-

the bedroom was dimly lit by a pink-tinted lamp, half the bedsheets sprawled across the floor and the other half caught on the ends of the firm mattress. xavier plympton yawned, reaching across the sleeping, hungover girl to grab his watch and checking the time, wondering when he'd have to fully wake up for his aerobics class at 7.

5:58 am. great, just in time.

he sighed lightly, pulling himself out of the bed and walking into the apartment bathroom, which was connected to the bedroom, grabbing his toothbrush and lightly running the faucet.

the same routine followed him nearly every weekend, and no matter how much of a flirt xavier bragged he was, this 80's hookup culture was getting old. sure, a good fuck was never something he'd pass up, but he wanted something more.

he craved a feeling of romantic validation, and one that led him to feel the unexplainable, yet most passionate feeling of them all: love. he hadn't felt love in any shape or form for years now, and he almost felt as if moving to LA may have been a mistake for not only his career, but his romantic life. that is, until he met her.

chet clancy's sister was smoking hot, and she didn't even know it. having the hots for his best friend's sister was probably not the best idea, but he'd never make a move anyway, so he figured it didn't really matter. she was years younger than him, fresh out of high school, while he could basically be considered a senior in college. while their age gap wasn't drastically different, he still knew that she was young and that chet was her only brother and sibling, so the whole little crush seemed to be thrown out the window with those two substantial and critical points.

nevertheless, xavier continued to fall harder for the girl. every time he came over to hang out with chet, he always made sure to greet her, and flirt with her, which he could visibly see she enjoyed, no matter how shy she pretended she was. he always made sure to do so when chet was either on the phone, in the bathroom, or doing something else to distract himself. xavier knew she wouldn't tell, which made his motives a whole lot easier.

he would envision his almost weekly hookups as the young girl, craving to touch her soft skin and linger his fingers through her thick hair, all the way to her perky breasts, and down to her bare cunt, which was already soaked for him and ready for a good dicking. he would get a heat in his pants just thinking about her and he didn't only want her for what he predicted would be the best sex of his life; he wanted her because he cared about her, and he always had, the minute their eyes locked so many months ago.

after all, not only was she utterly stunning in the looks department, but she was also fiercely intelligent for her age. she was accepted into columbia university, which was an extremely prestigious honor for anyone her age, and in LA. while there were thousands of smart young people in the city, she stood out from the crowd, and not only to xavier. plenty of guys had the hots for her, but she didn't really seem to notice, or care.

snapping himself out of his alternate reality with the girl, xavier began to toss his clothes on the white tile bathroom floor and walk towards the shower, starting the water up and beginning to wash off, preparing himself for his first class of the day.

after what felt like three hours instead of one, xavier grabbed a washcloth and dried his damp forehead, searching the aerobics room to find out where his friends went. montana, chet, and ray always attended his morning and evening classes, making sure they displayed their full support in his new career. he found it generous, and he intended to repay the group by inviting them to come counsel with him at camp redwood the following month, which was a newly opening camp, where he'd be making a lot of money within just a week of simply bossing around annoying little middle schoolers.

he greeted a few of the men and women that attended his class, before making his way out of the room to see the three standing by the living space talking, with a particular girl sitting aside her brother, dressed in a yellow bodysuit with tight white leggings underneath. he felt his stomach squirm at the sight, but he took a heavy breath in an attempt to keep his cool, walking towards his friends in a calm manner.

"thanks for coming once again, guys." he smirked, patting ray on the shoulder. he glanced to her, chuckling. "thought you weren't one for aerobics, doll. shouldn't you be spending some time planning your future at columbia, hm?"

[y/n] clancy looked up at xavier, her hands resting on her closed thighs as she shrugged softly, looking to chet with a soft smile. "what can i say, chet convinced me to come."

"she needs to get the hell out of the house for once in her life, so i figured this was a good opportunity." chet smiled, looking up to his friend. "and, i wanted us all to be together, so i could maybe invite you guys over for the night? my parents aren't home, and i have a fuckton of alcohol, and cocaine."

the group giggled with excitement, and montana raised her hand, motioning the attention towards herself.

"can i bring this chick named brooke? brooke thompson. met her a few days ago in this very lobby after one of her classes. she's new to the city, maybe we can get her some friends that aren't lame." she suggested with a smirk, chet instantly nodding with enthusiasm.

"hell yeah, i won't pass up having a new chick in the group. maybe this one will actually want to bone." he winked, causing [y/n] to gag in disgust.

"gross. so much for your newly found respect for women, chet." she rolled her eyes, earning a few laughs from the group. "well, you guys can have fun with that tonight. you know i need to finish my essay, chet, so don't be obnoxiously loud. even though i got accepted, they want another one for whatever reason i've got to decipher."

xavier raised his hand, "i object, [y/n]! you're gonna have fun for once in your life, and hang out with the cool kids tonight. can't stay cooped up in your room all summer. at least take a few shots and call it a night. loosen up, girl."

[y/n] stood up, grabbing her purse and rolling her eyes with a small smile on her face. "fine." she laughed lightly, nudging her brother's shoulder. "let's go home so i can sit in silence for a few hours before chaos erupts in our house."

"it'll be fun, [y/n]." ray smiled reassuringly, giving her a quick wink, which xavier immediately caught onto. he could feel the jealously boiling in his veins, but he chose to ignore it, and figured he'd one up the boy later in the night anyway.

a few hours passed before there was a knock at the front door, which chet opened to see montana and the new girl, brooke. she was fairly attractive, dressed in a pair of cotton pajamas, pattered with geometric shapes and a pink tint behind them, with her brown hair curled at the bottom, and a small sleeping bag in her right hand. [y/n] glanced at her from the kitchen table, quickly looking back down at her paper, trying to edit a few more of her sentences before montana raised the voice level from one to one thousand in a matter of minutes.

"you must be brooke." chet smiled, letting the girls in. "it's nice to meet you, glad you're staying over with us."

she gave him a smile, an obvious red tint to her cheeks as she nonchalantly admired the fit brunette boy.

"glad i have the honor of doing so." she giggled, walking in and shutting the wooden door behind her.

[y/n] was used to girls drooling all over her brother, so it was nothing new to her if this new girl did the same. she simply ignored it and closed her notebook, walking back to her bedroom to change into her pajamas, since this was a sleepover, after all.

she shut the door and locked it, slipping off her shorts and shirt, squatting down to grab a matching pajama set of shorts and a shirt, that was a plain purple. she set it on her bed and began to unclip her cotton bra, when she heard a light knock on her window. her eyebrow raised and she slowly walked over, peaking through the white curtains to see no other than xavier plympton. her eyes widened and she quickly pulled the curtains closed, startled by his behavior and the fact he just saw her in nothing but a cheap bra and panties, so not even the cute kind of undergarments..

"open up, [y/n]!" xavier yelled, loud enough for her to hear through the window. "i know you're in there!"

she was flabbergasted and completely embarrassed, but unlocked the window anyway, sliding it up for him to come through. she closed it after, leaning down to seal it shut, and move the curtains back to their original place.

xavier watched her ass jiggle with each step, licking his lips and grinning, crossing his lean arms. "i wasn't trying to scare you, [y/n]. i'm truly sorry, i didn't mean to come in on you half naked. but, would you want me to take that bra off for you, though?"

[y/n] turned to him with a rose-colored face, walking past him to grab her pajama shorts and slipping them on, shaking her head in a bit of annoyance, still deeply embarrassed by the situation unfolding before her. "x-xavier, what the hell?" she stuttered, unclipping her bra from behind, but facing the opposite way of the blonde, tossing it on the nightstand with frustration. "i don't know why you can't just come through the front door like a normal person, or at least through chet's windo-"

she suddenly gasped, feeling his warm palms slide across her waist and up to her breasts, her nipples already erect from just his presence in the room. as his fingers rubbed across the hard buds, she nearly melted at his touch, her ass pressed lightly against his forming erection.

"already?" he grinned, tugging at her left nipple, making her let out a moan. "i didn't expect you to give yourself away so easily, [y/n]. and not to your brother's best friend, either. how shallow." he teased, knowing it would get a fit out of her.

she pulled herself away in protest, clearly offended by his accusations. she grabbed the shirt and quickly slipped it on, looking up the blonde and rolling her brown eyes. "wow, xavier. fuck you."

"oh sweetheart, i will." he stuck his tongue out at the girl with a playful and flirtatious expression before winking, watching her eyes widen as he walked back to the window, opening it and climbing through. "and i'll use the front door now, too. thanks for the suggestion, doll."

she rolled her eyes, plumping down on the bed and wondering what the fuck just happened. xavier plympton, chet's best friend for months now, just felt her up, and literally said he was going to fuck her.

it's not like she wasn't excited about it, because she definitely was. the blonde was always attractive to her, even though he could act like a complete dick sometimes, and because of his personality, he honestly could simply be fucking with her. she knew it was wrong to do something like that anyway, considering how much it could hurt chet, and potentially damage both relationships.

she tried to snap those thoughts out of head, though, and simply focus on having fun for the night, without trying to get laid by the time the sun came up.

montana was already wasted within the first hour, and chet's eyes were as red as a tomato, his pupils extremely dilated from the amount of coke he snorted, which now caused the house to reek of drugs.

brooke didn't seem to be a fan of that type of scene, but she did have a few drinks, which appeared to have a negative effect on her, and make her already passed out on the couch by one in the morning. chet, on the other hand, seemed to like the new girl, so he was aside her, trying to pull her into his large arms, even though she was barely half awake.

xavier was completely sober, which was probably the strangest thing [y/n] witnessed all night. he was the last one up besides herself, and ray, who was on the sofa, nearly passed out after downing almost an entire bottle of tequila. the blonde boy got up to turn up the record player, basically muffling out any noise that was from the back rooms, one of those being [y/n]'s bedroom.

he glanced at her from the dining room table, motioning his head in the direction of her bedroom, which was down the small hallway. she slowly stood up, already feeling a pool in her underwear, which she figured she probably should have changed into something sexier, now that she knew xavier apparently was keeping his promise.

she walked behind him, nervously squeezing her sweating palms into a fist. she had sex several times before with ex-boyfriends, but never someone that older than her, and much more experienced than her. oh, and that close of a friend to her fucking brother.

xavier shut the door behind her, then before she could even speak, he slammed his lips against her own, which she greedily returned, feeling a rush of dominance within her as she led him to the bed.

"someone's a little feisty tonight, hmm?" xavier smirked, laying his back against the bed as he watched her pull off her shirt, exposing her small but perky breasts, nipples already swollen and hard for him. "i thought i was the one who said i would fuck you, kitten."

[y/n] grinned, shaking her head and pulling her shorts and underwear down at the same time, before climbing on top of the fully clothed boy. "oh, you are, but i'd like something first."

"and what is that, babe?" he asked, a smirk painted across his handsome face, watching as the girl straddled his heated body.

without an answer, [y/n] moved her entrance to his face, the blonde responding to her actions by digging his fingers into her ass cheeks, slamming her down on his mouth, as he began to tongue-fuck the hell out of her.

"h-holy shit!" she exclaimed, taken back by how rough he was being from the start. she put her hands against the tan wall, moaning loudly as she grinded her hips, her pussy dripping at his touch as he swirled her juices around with his tongue, which was moving around inside of her like a sex god.

his skills were far beyond her past experiences, and she knew she'd cum if he kept going any longer, even though he had only been underneath her for a minute or two. [y/n] pulled herself up, the boy asserting his dominance by pulling himself up and pinning her down, then lifting his arms to pull his shirt off, exposing his lightly toned abdomen that looked as if it was crafted by the greek gods.

he then stepped off the bed to pull his tented shorts and boxers down, exposing his wide, long length, which took [y/n] back by surprise. it looked like he was going to split her in half with how big he was, but she was so horny and so ready to take him inside her, she didn't give a single fuck what he did to her.

"i'll admit, your dominance turns me on, babe, but you know i'll always have the upper hand." xavier began, moving back onto the bed. he took her legs, quickly flipping her over, pushing her knees up so her ass was in the air, pointing directly at his length. "i'm going to fuck you so hard, baby girl. you have no clue how long i've wanted you to take my dick in that pretty pussy of yours."

[y/n] felt him rub his length against her juices, attempting to wet himself before he slid inside of her. she grinned, turning her head to try to make eye contact with him the best she could. "you have no clue how long i've wanted that big dick of yours in my pussy. you make my pussy drool, daddy."

"fuck baby, your words make me melt.." xavier rolled his head back in pleasure, a smile on his pink-tinted lips as he pushed inside of her, balls deep, earning a loud moan from the girl. "can you take daddy's big dick, hm?"

"l-like this, yes.." [y/n] buried her head into the pillow, closing her eyes as he sunk into her tight walls.

xavier grabbed her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, his cock shoved deep inside of her, making the girl gasp in pleasure, and a bit of pain. he laid himself down, watching her knees plant against the mattress to get her herself situated.

"how about like this? let me do the work baby, and tell me to to stop if i'm hurting you." he said gently, beginning to buck his hips, watching [y/n]'s ass bounce as he pushed himself inside of her.

with every thrust, she was moaning louder and louder, earning a few grunts from the boy behind her, who was yanking her hair back with one hand, and the other reaching over to play with her over-stimulated clit. she was overridden with pleasure, both hands on her breasts and she played with her own nipples, beginning to move her own hips as they both bounced onto each other, the pressure of his massive length hitting her in the stomach, making her eventually squeal with immense pleasure, cumming all over xavier's cock. 

"fuck yeah, baby, ride out your high.." xavier praised, looking up at the girl now, watching as sweat rolled down her bare back. "you look so beautiful when you cum all over my cock."

xavier could feel her cum, and was also watching it drip through her ass cheeks, sending him over the edge and he let go of her clit and thick hair, slamming her down on his length and immediately cumming inside of her, filling the girl with his warm seed for several seconds, before letting go and letting her pull out, his white fluids, mixed with her own, leaking from her throbbing pussy.

"oh my god..." [y/n] panted, looking over to xavier as sweat rolled down his forehead. "you weren't lying when you said you'd fuck me hard.."

he turned on his side to face the naked girl, reaching over to kiss her softly. "i wouldn't be lying either if i said i was head over heels for you, babe. you make my dick hard, but you also make my stomach turn every time i see you. i've got the hots for you, [y/n], and it's not just in the bedroom."

she smiled, pulling his sweaty skin into a tight hug, pecking his cheek. "i feel the same way, xavier. but you know we can't just tell chet about how we feel, he'd never forgive either of us. you're his best friend, and i'm his little sister, who's also going away for college in two months." she frowned at the sudden reality, looking up to the blonde-headed boy.

"i know, i know." xavier said, moving one hand to brush through his hair. "it's all so complicated in more ways than one. i don't want you to be a hookup, babe. i want you as my girl, officially."

she pulled away from the embrace, moving to rest her hands underneath her pillow, her tits squeezing together, nipples still hard as a rock. "i want that too, but i don't want this to have to end after the summer.."

xavier leaned down to kiss her shoulder, then trailed down to her nipples, licking the right one, causing her to breath heavily through her nostrils. he looked back up to her, smiling.

"who ever said it has to?" he moved his hand to her still moist entrance, his digits sinking down into her lips, as his thumb rubbed her swollen clit. "but nevermind that for now, let's just have fun and quit worrying about the things we can't control."

she smirked, nodding and turning to lay on her back, feeling xavier sink his fingers into her, their lips crashing together once again.

[readymades2002]

god like there are so many kids in the notes of that post going “i just dont get along with people my age” and as a kid who thought that way that DID ruin my life!!!! being weird and being constantly told i was So Mature For My Age and an Old Soul warped my self image so badly and the adults in my life i befriended never saw a mature teenager but a kid who thought they could do anything an adult could and it really fucking ended up hurting me!!! i didn’t recognize what boundaries should have been there and it wasn’t a responsibility i should have been tasked with anyway but i’ll never know if they didn’t know what boundaries should be either!! like. GOD im just. everything about that post is making my fucking heart hurt

[devilishgreen]

 There’s no particular reason for me making this post other than I am having thoughts again and I wanna rant about them. Below you will find the unhinged ramblings of why I ship Drakkgo (Shego x Drakken). And somewhat of a personality analysis for both them. 

 Okay listen 

 Listen 

 On the surface is may seem like they are by default paired together because they are sidekick and villain, and yes that is a perfectly valid reason to pair them because sidekick and villain ships are awesome, but there’s a lot more that I really like about this pairing. It basically has all the makings on what I consider ‘OTP’ material. 

 First things first is to clear up misconceptions. A lot of people equate Drakken with somehow being the ‘less evil’ of the pair. Which is true, in the abstract sense. But Drakken isn’t out there frolicking in a flower field, even after he got plant powers. He’s still evil. He canonly is motivated purely by pettiness and the need for revenge, and he’s willing to go to wicked extremes to get to it. 

 He does things that Shego even considers abhorrent. Such as cloning for one, and cloning against someone’s will. Shego also has some beef with mind control chips, and he still does that. He also commits attempted murder and his victims range from Kim Possible to children to old ladies. He has almost no qualms about doing what it needed to get a job done. He’s pretty ruthless as well, not to the extent Shego is, but he isn’t some wooby baby who just because he is bad at carrying out evil, doesn’t mean he isn’t. 

 Next, let’s clear up some things about Shego’s character. While Drakken is far more nasty than people sometimes make him, Shego is... yeah pretty nasty. But she ALSO has some lines she refuses to cross. She refuses to steal wheelchairs, she gets upset whenever animals are involved in schemes or could be hurt, she refuses to let her brothers be without their powers and loses in a fight deliberately against them. She is also on a whole far more lazy than Drakken is. This makes her not as big of a threat, because she chooses not to be. Unlike Drakken. 

 Okay so, time to get into why I ship them together. 

 People might think this pairing consists of Shego endlessly dogging on Drakken while he simpers and takes it. That is not the case. At all. These two are partners. They balance out each other’s weaknesses. They are in tune with one another. They value each other. Shego’s teasing of Drakken is filled with much less malice as compared to her taunting of Kim or her brothers. Shego snarks at Drakken and mocks him, but what people sometimes overlook is that Drakken does the same to her. That’s what makes it work. Drakken takes it, but he also dishes it back out. He regularly teases and taunts Shego, playfully annoys her, and does things to deliberately drive her up a wall. The ONLY time they are seriously mad at each other is when Drakken placed a behavioral modifer on Shego, making her listen and obey his commands. And Drakken was quick to apologize. 

 So we have a basis on banter, of mutual friendship, and teasing. They get along together. 

 I wanna talk about how each of them care for each other next. 

 Starting with Shego, it’s a bit harder to see the ways Shego cares for Drakken because she is definitely an action person. Shego REMEMBERS things about Drakken that nobody else does, and she knows his personality inside and out. Shego will regularly step up and protect Drakken, even when she doesn’t need to and it’s outside of her contract. Take the holiday episode, where she rescued Drakken from the snowstorm even though she was on vacation, which she takes very seriously. She ALSO defends him verbally when he’s not around, take her interactions with the Seniors and how she takes care to say that she sees him as someone who is capable and worthy. 

 She has a deep trust in Drakken, and this takes place in the form of allowing Drakken to see into various parts of her life that often aren’t available to the public. Shego also is the first person to go back to Drakken. She may complain about being there, but she will ALWAYS return. Whenever Shego becomes the Supreme One, she gives Drakken free will and continues their same dynamic. Meaning in her perfect world, her and Drakken still have that kind of rapport and bond. Shego never betrays Drakken, like she does with other villains or heroes. Shego, while also under the effects of a mood modifier, became extremely open about her affections for Drakken. I fully subscribe that the mood modifier only amplified her emotions and on a whole amplified emotions that were already there. Finally, Shego RESPECTS Drakken, something that is huge with her. She will follow his orders even when she thinks they are stupid, which is huge for her. 

 Respect is a huge aspect of their relationship. 

 Moving onto to Drakken, this one is a bit more obvious. We’ve already talked about their playful banter, but Drakken definitely takes a way more fun approach to teasing Shego, than Shego’s darker jabs. His way of teasing Shego is more along the lines of giving her sappy and fond nicknames, calling her ‘Marshmallow’ among other things. Drakken likes throwing back what Shego gives. He enjoys their conversations and misses when Shego is gone and he can’t get that dialog. He also greatly respects her opinion, and takes what he says into account. He treats her extremely well compared to other people, and Shego is someone who he relies on frequently. Without Shego, Drakken is notably worse off. He can’t even open a pickle jar. He always lets Shego know her worth, something even her brothers never did. He also pays for her vacations, as a thank you for all her hard work. 

 He tries to take a genuine interest in her likes, and takes special note of what she prefers and dislikes. Drakken sometimes takes advantage of her, yes, but he also always shows her his appreciation. He values Shego’s worth. Moreover, he’s also protective over her. It’s obvious Shego doesn’t need protection, but Drakken still does, out of affection and fondness. Despite knowing more than others what she’s capable of. He always jumps to her defense, and gets jealous of any other men who take an interest in her as a love interest. He also went BATSHIT when he heard Shego was hurt by Aviarious. (I know I’m not spelling this right.). This is also huge, and a large point, but Drakken sees beyond Shego’s looks. Villains and heroes alike always comment on her looks, her body, hit on her or try to get with her before realizing her dangers. And keep on pursuing in some cases. Drakken NEVER does. He always is attracted to her mind, her personality, her power. Even when she was throwing himself at him, he NEVER took advantage of her. He also never makes one disrespectful or sideways glance when she’s in a swimsuit or some other dress. 

 And whenever he does get plant powers, which react without him knowing and following his emotions sometimes, his vine wraps around them both pulling him close. And he doesn’t pull away. Even SHEGO looks delighted and thrilled. 

 They both have lines they won’t cross, they both respect one another, and they both acknowledge the other as capable and genius. Shego gets the respect and acknowledgement of her abilities, and Drakken gets someone who defends him and appreciates what he does. 

 They are both evil, at least until the series finale, they are both horrible people. They both do villainous plots that would make most people shudder. They bring out the best in each other, which is evil to everyone else. They aren’t a straightforward case of bumbling boy and strong and intelligent girl. They both have qualities that are valued by the others. Shego’s capableness and toughness, and Drakken’s creativity and scheming. They have a partnership that transcends the usual dynamic of their situation, and something that is unique. 

 In conclusion, Drakkgo fucking rocks I’ll see y’all in my next unhinged rambling. 

[dreamii-yume]

Hiya~ Can I request a sinfic featuring yan!riddle where he uses an aphrodisiac on his fem!darling? ^v^ thanks in advance if you every try to write this!

Tried to implement some Mommy kink for our Baby Riddle but meh...Yume didn’t quite get there lol I’m sorry~ I’ll do your mommy kink justice someday, Riddle!  {{ (>_<) }}

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎︎

It's petty, it goes against the rules, against every moral lesson he was taught, and as the older one, Riddle knew how immature this was of him. But he just loves you so much that it's only fair for you to feel the same thing, right? It's a completely valid reason! 

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Riddle was not one to show emotions to make himself feel and look vulnerable to others.

It doesn't matter if they're a close friend or anyone he's familiar with, he just thinks that it's unnecessary for him to do so. Especially after his overblotting incident, it's just his duty to do what's right and recognize his past mistakes. For the first time in so long, he was corrected, he was wrong in so many ways, and he whole-heartedly accepted that. It was a blessing that his own dorm ended up forgiving his tyranny, being able to celebrate another successful unbirthday party as if Riddle hadn't done anything wrong at all. He was lucky to have such understanding friends, but the fact that they forgave him this easily was the exact reason why he's so conflicted with such a massive amount of guilt.

They were so nice despite after everything, just too loyal and accepting that Riddle's heart aches just remembering that he once took advantage of that loyalty. The guilt still chains him up and it was suffocating, but he knew he must not show such emotions. It doesn't change the fact that he's the Dorm Leader, the current King of Heartslabyul, he shouldn't burden anyone with such trivial things such as guilt. They don't have to know, if this was the price for his past actions, then he shall suffer through it all alone. No one needed to get involved in his personal matters, not again.

"...Are you sad, Riddle-san?"

No one...but you, who personally knocked ever so gently against the walls he built around himself.

Riddle didn't know if you were aware of his dilemma or had just consulted him out of pure instinct but he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't caught off guard that one day. It was the end of another unbirthday party that you and Grimm were invited to. You had dared to place your hand on his head, stroking his hair once and even asked such an outrageous question. Suffice to say, he was surprised, it left his mouth open but words don’t seem to come out. It also occurred to him that you might've done that deed unconsciously as he could practically see the realization coming down upon you, retracting your hands from his head almost immediately.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry...! I touched you without thinking..." You had apologized, bowing repeatedly but eventually looked up with an embarrassed smile. You scratched the back of your head, a tiny blush decorating your cheeks, feeling silly. "...I guess I just felt something really odd about you today, Riddle-san. It's probably just my imagination but still..."

"...Please cheer up. I'm sure no one would want to see you sad." You said, giving him a close-eyed smile and an awkward ‘Cheer-Up’ pose. "If you have something on your mind, feel free to share them with any of us!"

With Grimm screaming for you from the distance, you gave him one last smile and bowed before turning to your monster friend. Riddle didn't even get to say anything as he stood there, watching your figure disappear in the distance. He found himself reaching for his own head, on the same exact spot that your hand was in and looked down. That was unexpected, he really should get his act together if someone like you was able to tell. It was a relief that you didn't pry too much, that would've been a problem.

...Though, Riddle couldn't deny that something in him felt a little giddy for someone to see through him without words. The way you placed your hand on his head, the way your eyes looked at him, even if it was all done unintentionally. It made his face heat up and his heart could only beat so fast.

They all felt so gentle and sincere. He liked it.

But even so, Riddle turned around, clearing his throat and shaking his head awake out of such a ridiculous daydream. What is he talking about? Patting his head is a major offense to him personally! It's gesture that makes him feel inferior and doing so will immediately prompt him to decapitate your head off.

However, Riddle narrowed his eyebrows together and pat his reddening cheeks twice, just to calm himself down. You did recognize your mistake and it wasn't intentional after all so...He'll let you off the hook. He might've just been surprised, that's all, there was no more reason to fret over your touch like this.

Riddle needs to get his everything together, he's your senior, for god's sake.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

...Was what he told himself, correct? He thought he was done with this.

Someway, somehow, Riddle found himself inviting you for a private tea party with him one day. He doesn't like this, it feels like he's favoring you way too much, he doesn't even do this with Trey and the others. But one look at your troubled expression in the library that day was enough for him to come and talk to you. Seriously, had he really become this easy to catch these days? Anyways, your woes laid down on a subject that involves magic, it was probably why you look so troubled about it.

"You'll teach me? Really?"

That spark in your eyes was something Riddle had never seen before, it intrigued him for some reason. He originally thought that you were suspicious, suddenly appearing out of nowhere without a single ounce of magic. You ended up becoming a student, a half-student to precise, and not to mention a girl in a prestigious all-boys school that Night Raven. It already sounded problematic in papers and by ear, your whole existence in this school is a clear violation of rules! However, once he took a closer look at the bigger picture of your situation, only then did it occur to him how harmless you really are.

After all, you were just a normal girl who always seems to get involve in a situation you didn't ask for in the first place.

"I see...So, that's how it is." You said, humming. Even without magic to perform the activities written on the text book, you somehow understood the basic concept of the topic. As expected of Heartslabyul's Dorm Leader, his strict but careful manner of teaching was no joke.

Gracefully placing down his cup on a saucer, Riddle ran his finger smoothly on the huge block of text in the textbook. "You don't need magic to remember these formulas, correct? As long as you memorized all of them with accuracy, you'll have no problems in the upcoming tests." Riddle advised as you nodded, mentally taking notes of each and every one of his words. "Now, try to answer this next question with a different method. I'm sure you'll be able to figure out the trick soon enough."

True to what he said, you managed to answer all the questions in your homework and Riddle couldn't help but be amused with your reaction. You look so relieved that you were able to finish them in such a short period of time and with confidence too. This made him want to brag about how he could finish paper works at this amount in an even shorter time frame and with everything guaranteed to be correct just so he could see your amazed reaction. But he decided against it, thinking of how immature of a move it was.

"Riddle-san, you're really amazing...I could never do these things by myself." You whispered with a small laugh as you leaned down on the table, resting your head that had been starting to ache from all the memorization you've been doing. Riddle wanted to criticize your laid-back posture but, in the end, he kept it all on his own. Your exhaustion was to be expected after all, it’s understandable.

Riddle tilted his head to the side. "...Is that so? I do think this is normal for my age." He said, which merely made you laugh nervously and drop a sweat. What he said just proved how much of a genius this child is, having the personality of a workaholic. However, you noticed how he slouched down slightly, with something oddly lonely in his eyes. "...This is what I've been taught all my life after all. I have to be the best of the best."

Ah, of course, he's not a genius without a cost. That much is understandable at least. "That's not true." You said without thinking, making Riddle turn to look at you. Your eyes were closed as if you were in the verge of falling asleep but that dazed, gentle smile remains on your face, telling him that you're still wide awake. "No one can be the 'best' out of the best. A child shouldn't grow up to believe that they can."

"...But unfortunately so, Riddle-san did, didn't he?" You phrased the words like it was supposed to be a response to yourself rather than to him. You opened your eyes, sympathy overflowing from within them that it makes Riddle's heart ache. "I can't imagine how painfully lonely that must've been, enduring and following all those crazy rules."

"But you know? It doesn't have to be like that anymore, you have friends who'll listen and spend time with you now." You said. "You can eat all the tart you want and not have to worry about breaking any rules for even just a second. It doesn't hurt to have fun once in a while."

"That's why, Riddle-san doesn't need to be the best of the best. You don't even have to listen to your mother if you, yourself knew how unreasonable her words are. You are your own person, after all." Riddle looked up at you and you couldn't help but to think of him as a little puppy, learning how to do his first trick for the first time. However, you blinked and covered your mouth when you realized that you just said something extremely rude in regards to his mother. "A-Ah! T-That's not to bad-mouth your mother or anything! I'm sure she was trying in her own way...! I think…?"

A tinge of awkwardness decorated your features as you sat properly on your seat, scratching the back of your head. "...But the point is...I just don't see why Riddle-san needs to be the best at everything. You're already fine the way you are." You said, looking down as you begin to feel really embarrassed of what you're saying. "Honestly, if you were my son, I'd be the proudest mother in the whole world~! No doubt about it!"

Widening his eyes at what you said, Riddle couldn't help but look down as different kinds of emotions swirling inside of him. His mouth twitched but he didn’t know whether to smile or to frown, he's incredibly indecisive right now. But his eyes did soften though, your last words had echoed over and over again inside his head, blocking out every other words that came after. He felt all warmed up on the inside that he clutched his chest tight and didn't seem to hear you say "Just kidding~" in a playful manner. You'll be the proudest mother you said, an actual proud mother who can be proud of someone like him.

"...Honestly, it would've been nice if you were indeed my mother in the first place..." He whispered with a strained, quavering voice, his hand clenching harder on his chest. How laughable, he's older than you and yet, he could actually feel himself at ease, consulting you like this.

"Eh...? Eh!? Riddle-san!?" You were about question him, trying to process if what you heard was correct. However, you quickly shot up from surprise in your seat as you looked at the red-haired's expression, a few drops of glistening tears began to overflow from his eyes. "W-Why are you crying...!? Aah, I'm sorry, I-I was joking...! I'm not gonna do it again, okay-"

"Hey..." Before you could say any more, you flinched as Riddle grabbed your hand, shutting you up completely. You fell into silence as he slowly brought your hand up on top of his head, your heart beating in anticipation. "Could you do it again...? Please?"

You felt your face heating up, not knowing how to process this turn of events. It was supposed to be a joke, an example to strengthen a point that you were trying to make. Still, Riddle seemed to have taken it seriously and you couldn't help but to feel a little sympathetic. It just proves that this child had been hungry, yearning for some needed motherly affection that he never got as a child. So desperate in fact, that he's willing to believe that silly little statement of yours.

Your eyes softened as you went closer to him and began to stroke his hair as gently as you could. You watched him sniffle, his shoulders shaking slightly as he tries to keep his cries at a minimum. "...You're still in pain, aren't you? You poor thing..." You said with a smile, purposely making your voice as soft as possible to give him the sense of comfort. "There, there...It'll be alright. Everything's going to be alright."

With that, Riddle couldn't help himself anymore and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. Sitting on his little throne, he buried his face on your stomach, his tears staining your uniform but you didn't mind. All you could really do was to continue stroking his hair and welcomed his head in an embrace. "...Thank you for enduring everything all this time, you've been such a good boy." You comforted, closing your eyes and Riddle could just melt against you. "But we're here now, you don't have to worry anymore. From now on, you'll never feel lonely again."

"You've done an excellent job, Riddle. I'm so proud."

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Continue the Spice~?

Yume had to force herself to buy a new laptop because she knew she wouldn’t be able to survive Online Class without one (c" ತ,_ತ) I’m quite a stranger to electronics really, but I’m learning as I go, but I still miss my old laptop aaaa- （；＿；）

BUT NEVERMIND THAT!

Yume had reach 500+ followers! That many Darlings!? Isn’t it crazy!? (´；Д；`) To think this blog could actually reach that much lol Yume just wanted to release some hornii \(//∇//)\ Thank you very much, Sweethearts~! My fellow Hornii people ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

...I’m excited for the next few Sinfics (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

[out-of-jams]

One Chance || myg

(Amazing, incredibly badass banner made by @kimtaehyunq​ )

↠ One Chance ↞ Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project.

And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Genre: College!au. Music producer!Yoongi x Singer!Reader. Fluff. Explicit language. Some angst. Mentions of alcohol. s2l. Oneshot.

A/n: Hey all you cool cats and kittens. Hope you’re all staying safe out there! I wasn’t intending to write this, but I had no other choice.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

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Min Yoongi.

The name stared up at you in size twelve font, black letters printed onto the white sheeted paper. Every other word on the page blurred around the edges as you tried to place a face to the name. You weren’t good with names, never had been. So with a sigh, you leaned to the side and mumbled to the girl sitting next to you in class.

“Hey, who’s Min Yoongi?”

She--Mira? Mina? something like that--glanced up from her portfolio opened up on the desk and shot you a disbelieving look. You couldn’t blame her, not really. It was nearing the end of the semester and your vocal class had worked with the music production class multiple times throughout the course of the year. Neither class was very big, so you probably should have known the names of all twenty students. Total. Ten in each class.

But hey, in your defense you’d had a lot on your plate, seeing as how you were about to graduate from university and all. Which was a pretty big deal, so memorizing the names of people you only saw a few times ever-so-often wasn’t high up on your list of priorities.

But Min Yoongi.

You recognized him the moment you saw the soft outline of his profile through the glass window of the studio door a day later. He had his attention trained on whatever was on his laptop screen, pale hand sliding across the mousepad. His dark brows were pinched in concentration and you could see the tip of his tongue digging into the side of his cheek.

Even though the overly-bright lights in the room were on, the guy still somehow managed to blend in with the slate grey walls. Hell, his icy blond hair was the only color to stand out amongst all the black clothing. The oversized hoodie and black joggers he wore looked comfortable, and had you glancing down at your own outfit self-consciously. Had the sweater, skirt and high heeled boots combo been too much? Should you have dressed down a little?

Whatever. It was too late now.

Watching him through the door made you feel like some kind of stalking creep, but you couldn’t help it.

You’d seen him around campus a few times and recognized him from whenever your classes joined together and was a little disappointed at yourself for not recognizing his name. Even though you'd never spoken a word to him before, you were a little apprehensive about being partnered together. Min Yoongi had a reputation, and not a very good one. Sure, he was talented at what he did, producing music, to the point where a lot of people in the music department called him a genius. But he was known for being standoffish. Rude. And could cut someone down with a few words from his naturally pouty lips.

You didn’t like to judge a book by its cover, or by the rumors that circulated about them. However, that did nothing for the intimidating aura that bled from the man like cologne the second you stepped foot into the room.

He didn’t even pause in whatever he was doing to spare you a glance. Just announced in a dry, rumbling voice, “You’re late.”

“Uh.” You hesitated halfway into the room, the door swinging shut behind you automatically. Two seconds in and he already hated you. Great. “Sorry. I got lost.”

That made him look up and watch as you pulled the only other rolling chair back from the desk and plopped down. God, his eyes were just as daunting as the rest of him: onyx in color and cat-like in shape, they were bottomless as he blinked at you lazily. And he slowly raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“You got lost.” Yoongi repeated slowly. So sarcastically that you didn’t even hear a question mark at the end of it. “Aren’t you about to graduate? How are you still getting lost on campus?”

Your mouth opened and closed, embarrassed heat blossoming across your cheeks. You were blushing hard and you knew it, but that sure as hell didn’t mean that you had to acknowledge it. So you just sniffed and dug through your backpack for an excuse to break eye contact. “I haven’t been in here before.”

It was true. In a way. The hall of studios that you were in now were for the senior music production students. There was a completely different area for each year, but each student had their own assigned as theirs for the semester. So you weren’t lying when you said you hadn’t been to his exact studio before.

Which he seemed to catch on to, if the way Yoongi’s second eyebrow raised to join the first told you anything. But he let it go and turned back to shut his laptop, which you could now see was opened to a music production app. You weren’t very schooled on how to operate it, but even you could tell that he seemed to be very far into whatever it was he was making.

Though you didn’t get a good enough look at it before he closed it.

“Even though we have a month to do this, we should figure out what kind of song we’re making now instead of later.” Yoongi stated in that gruff voice of his and clicked a few things on his laptop. “Since you’re the one singing, you’ll be setting the tone--”

“Wait.” You interrupted.

Yoongi stopped whatever it was he was about to say to give you a blank look, the corners of his lips turned down. “What?”

Clearing your throat, you continued on despite the way his expression tried to cow you into shutting up. “How’re we splitting this up?”

A valid question. Not every person who created music worked in the same way. Some liked to do things a completely different way than somebody else might’ve. Last time you’d worked with one of the students from the music production class, the two of you had butted heads the whole way. He hadn’t wanted to hear your input at all, and you weren’t about to be shoved off to the side like some kind of un-opinionated mouthpiece again.

Yoongi made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a hum. “I normally make the track and leave the lyrics up to the singer unless they need help.”

He looked at you from out of the corner of his eye as he clicked a few buttons on the keyboard in front of him to bring the giant monitor above the control panel to life. “Can you write?”

“Yes.” The word left your mouth before you could even think about it.

“Good. You’ll take care of that then.” Yoongi slid a blank yellow notepad into the empty space on the control panel between you. “Though we’ll need to do the melody before that.”

The next time the two of you met was almost a week later. It’d been sometime late in the afternoon when you both finally had time in your schedules. Because for some stupid reason, even though both of your classes were combined to work on the project, it had to be done outside of class.

Ugh.

As if you didn’t already have enough things to stress over. Like say, securing a job for after graduation.

During the first meeting between the two of you, you’d already decided on what kind of song you wanted to make. Something upbeat, but not over the top, though not boring either. You weren’t a huge fan of sounding like every other music artist out there and apparently Yoongi had felt the same. So it’d been easy to come up with.

He’d texted over a few ideas for the concept and you’d been pleasantly surprised at how serious he took it. At how complex and layered the ideas he’d come up with were. They were a lot better than anything you could have ever dreamed up and you were beyond astonished.

Especially when he met you outside of his studio door, blond hair was secured back off his forehead by a white headband,  and greeted you with, “I finished the track.”

“Already?” Shock was clear in your voice and you watched open mouthed as he unlocked the door and held it open for you to follow him inside. The lights flickered on overhead, but you were too busy staring at his back to notice. “That was quick, holy shit.”

Yoongi shrugged off your awe and wiggled the mouse to bring his computer to life. “It was no big deal. And now we can work on the melody.”

Still gaping at the blond, you shuffled forward to drop your bag next to your chair. “Okay. Um. Where should we start?”

Pulling out his chair, he sat down and lazily dragged the mouse over to open up his production software. “Listen to it first and let me know if you want to make any changes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You plopped down into your own chair and watched as he pressed play.

The music that poured from the expensive speakers started off slowly until it tapered off into what you assumed would be the first chorus. And you found yourself unconsciously tapping your fingers against your thigh when the bridge finally hit, you had to bite your lip to contain an excited smile. The moment it ended, you twisted in your chair to see that he was already looking at you. Though he kept his face blank, you could literally see question lingering behind those cat-like eyes of his.

“Mm.” You hummed, nodding your head and trying your damnedest to keep the grin from your face.

When you failed to say anything more, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Mm?”

“Mm.” You finally let the smile touch your lips. “I really liked it. It’s good.”

“Yeah?” He reached out to stop the track from replaying on a loop. “Any changes?”

“Nah. I like it just the way it is.”

“Alright.” Was what he responded with, but you could tell that he was pleased beneath that hard exterior of his. “The melody then.”

“The melody.” You agreed.

Min Yoongi was extremely anal when it came to anything he attached his name to.

That was probably why he had so many music companies vying for his attention. Not only did he produce nothing short of perfect tracks, but he’d even made some cash on the side selling some of them. Or so you’d heard through the grapevine.

Which was exactly why you were left staring at the blank notebook settled across your crossed legs. The pen in your hand had yet to put ink to the blank pages hours after you’d gotten home. All because some guy intimidated the hell out of you.

Most of the songs you wrote were fine. But that was the problem.  

Min Yoongi didn’t do fine. And you had no doubt in your mind that he’d tear your work to absolute shreds should you present him something lackluster. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to jump the gun and tell him you’d be fine writing by yourself.

It was way too late now.

“How long are you going to stare like that?”

Snapping out of your self-degrading thoughts, you turned to look over your shoulder. Jennie, your ever present roommate, was standing behind the couch shoving spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth. By the lack of makeup on her face and the messy bun her long black hair was thrown up into, she was more than likely about to go to bed.

“Stare like what?” You asked with a poorly concealed pout, pulling out your earbuds that’d been playing the track on a constant loop.

“Like you’re constipated or something.” Jennie waved her spoon at you before dipping it back into the bowl to scoop up more soggy cereal. “Project really giving you that much trouble?”

She didn’t necessarily know exactly what was going on with you, not exactly. Sure, she knew that you were partners with Yoongi and had been spending a lot of time with the man for the project. But she didn’t know just how much pressure you were under. Self-inflicted or not.

“These lyrics are kicking my ass.” Groaning, you leaned to the side until you were sprawled out on the couch.

“Why?” Jennie rested her arms against the back of it, bowl of milk and cereal hovering over you dangerously. “They don’t normally.”

She had a point. It wasn’t usually so difficult to write a damn song, but you also didn’t usually have a perfectionist genius as a partner. Instead of saying that though, you just threw your arms over your face. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this, ‘ya know? I should drop out while I still can.”

“O-kay.” You could hear her exasperated eye roll. “Don’t stress so much about it. You know, whenever you’re done being overdramatic.”

Jennie successfully dodged the couch pillow you chucked after fleeing footsteps. A buzz from your phone had you reaching for it blindly and the text on the screen had you burying your face into the cushions.

Min Yoongi: you free tomorrow?

Y/n: yeah. Same time?

His response came in not even five seconds later.

Min Yoongi: works for me

“So, see you tomorrow?” The question left your lips as you packed your stuff back into your bag. You still hadn’t been able to come up with any lyrics. At least none good enough to show your partner. So while you’d both been in the studio, you’d busied yourself trying to write and Yoongi had been doing whatever it was that he did.

He’d just powered down the computer he’d been working on and shook his head without looking at you. “I can’t tomorrow. I have plans.”

“Oh, really?” That came as a surprise. The fact that there was something or someone out there that could force the Min Yoongi to ditch working on a song. “What kind of plans?”

Ever since you’d showed up with food two weeks ago, he’d been a little more amicable towards you. Not as closed off. Which, of course, only led to you bringing some with you every day. Maybe food being the way to a man’s heart really applied to every man. Nonetheless, with the way the two of you would banter back and forth without heat made you hope that it wasn’t just you who considered him a friend.

Yoongi paused, only for a moment, but he paused all the same in throwing his bag over his shoulder before he answered. “I...have a show.”

“A show?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you stood up. That was the last thing you would have expected to leave his mouth. “What kind of show?”

“It’s not the type of show you’d want to watch.” He headed for the door and you scrambled to follow after him.

Leaning against the wall while he locked up the door, you folded your arms across your chest. “Why? You a stripper or something?”

Yoongi didn’t even spare you a look, just pocketed his keys and started down the hallway, apparently assuming that you’d follow. “You saying I wouldn’t be a good stripper?”

He’d assumed correctly. Your legs raced to catch up. “I never said that. You insinuated that all by yourself.”

An amused scoff passed his lips, but that was all you got in response. You weren’t about to letter the matter drop though. “So, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“A stripper.”

A pause. And then Yoongi met your sparkling gaze and shook his head with a huffing laugh. “No, I’m not a stripper.”

“Well, if your show isn’t anything rated NC-18, then can I go?”

“Why would you want to go?”

His question had you sending him a hesitant look. “Because we’re friends, aren't we?”

A heavy sigh escaped him. “If I say no, will you stop asking?”

You pretended to think for a minute before clicking your tongue. “Nope.”

He looked over at you, feline eyes squinting in contemplation. As much as Min Yoongi liked to act like he came across as aloof, he was a lot easier to read than he probably thought. And he must have found whatever it was he was looking for, because his thoughtful pout turned into a careless shrug.

“Whatever. Fine.”

“Sweet.” You grinned up at him and finally let him go on his merry way.

It was difficult to find a parking spot. You’d had to loop around the block at least ten times before you were finally able to squeeze your car into a space between two giant SUVs. The spot wasn’t exactly close to where you were supposed to meet Yoongi, but it was the best you could do.

When he’d texted you the address, you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little apprehensive at first. It was located on the outskirts of downtown where you’d never been before. Because the further out you went from the center of the city, the more dangerous it got.

Y/n: I’m here.

You sent the text off to Yoongi and cut the car engine. Throwing a glance at the clock on the dash, you silently thanked yourself for leaving a bit early in order to get there in time. The sun had long gone down and the moon had taken its place, so the streets were dark. Only lit up by the street lamps and lights that bled from apartment windows. Most of the businesses were closed for the night, the corner store half a block down was the only one still open.

You had about six blocks to walk and was just about to get out of your car when your phone started vibrating in your hand.

“Hello?” You answered the call, voice pitched with barely concealed amusement.

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice was even deeper over the phone, if that were possible. And you could hear the sounds of cars driving past him in the background.

You rolled your eyes even though he wasn’t there to see it. “I told you that I’m here.”

He sighed into the phone and you just knew that he was making a face. “Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Like, parked a few blocks away.” You popped your car door open, turning back to the passenger seat to grab your bag. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Stay where you are.” Yoongi demanded and you raised an eyebrow. “I’ll come get you.”

“You don’t have to.” You huffed a laugh. “I have two legs, ‘ya know.”

“Really? Never noticed.” In the background, voices blended in with the sound of cars. “This neighborhood isn’t exactly the safest. So just tell me where you are so I can make sure you don’t get stabbed or something.”

“‘Stabbed or something?’” It was difficult to hide your amusement now, but you obeyed and got back inside your car anyway, letting him know what street you were on. “My knight in shining armor, you say the most romantic things.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. You knew he did. “Nevermind. Maybe I’ll just let you get stabbed while I make my escape.”

The bark of laughter that left you was impossible to contain. “I could run faster than you and you know it. So try me.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Yeah okay. You wouldn't--”

A click told you that yes, he would. And you were left staring down at your phone with open mouthed disbelief. How dare he? You were just about to call him back and tell him as much, when a knock on your car window had you jumping with a small shriek.

Yoongi stood right outside your door with his fist still raised and a gummy grin on his pouty lips. You just stuck your tongue out at him childishly and grabbed your bag before slipping out of your car. “You’re a bully.”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his dark colored jeans and shrugged. “Would a bully walk all the way over here to make sure you don’t get robbed?”

Now it was your turn to shrug, taking him in and pretending not to see his onyx eyes slide down your body. Yoongi was dressed casually like usual. With a plain white t-shirt and a black zip up jacket thrown over it, he pulled it off like he’d just stepped off a magazine cover. How in the hell he always managed to do that was a mystery to you. And you knew you didn’t compare to him, even with your high-waisted white joggers and grey crop top.

Whatever. It wasn’t like it was bright enough outside to matter anyway.

“That sounds exactly like something a robber would say.” You flicked your hair over your shoulder and took off down the cracked sidewalk, making sure to lock your car behind you.

“Not like there’d be much to steal.” Yoongi’s voice caught up to you right as he did, walking side by side with the occasional brushing of his shoulder against yours.

You responded to his playful jab by lightly smacking his arm. “Careful there. Keep saying such poetic words and you’ll make me fall in love with you, Min Yoongi.”

He went quiet, but you could feel him looking at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze was a weight that burned through you, a light shining through the night.

The rest of the walk passed by pretty quickly, especially when nobody jumped out of an alleyway to rob you at knifepoint. Whether or not that was because of the man walking at your side, or something else, it didn’t matter. Not when the building you were headed to for the night popped up in the distance.

It looked like any other building on the street, with rough brick siding and a glowing red and green sign advertising the bar. Situated on the corner, you were just about to head inside when Yoongi’s hand caught your arm.

“It’s this way.” He answered your confused look by tugging you gently down the alleyway right next to the bar.

“But I thought it was inside.” You glanced back behind you before looking back towards the dead ended alley.

Yoongi dropped his hand from your arm. “It is.”

“Ah, makes sense.” You nodded sarcastically, successfully drawing a smile from your escort.

“Be patient and you’ll see.”

True to his word, you saw what he meant when he came to a stop outside of a side door. There weren’t any signs or anything indicated what it led to, but you could take a guess as Yoongi pulled it open and gestured for you to enter first.

It was dark inside and you had to squint in the dim lighting in order to see anything. You were in what appeared to be some kind of entrance that reminded you of one of the speakeasies downtown. Though there wasn’t a soul in sight, just a staircase at the end of the short hall. Unless you counted the loud base of music pounding through your feet and straight to your bones. The door slammed shut behind Yoongi and then he was taking the lead towards the stairs.

The further down you went, the louder the music got until it was all you could hear. And once you got to the bottom of the stairs and turned into the room, you found out why. Bodies were packed wall-to-wall, some moving to the music pouring from the speakers and others nodding their heads with drinks in their hands. Red and purple lights made the room seem bigger than it actually was, made it easier to lose yourself in the crowd.

Yoongi had taken you to an underground club. Which just made you all the more curious about just what kind of show he was going to be performing in.

“Want a drink?” Yoongi’s voice, even though spoken directly in your ear, was barely distinguishable from the lyrics bleeding through the room.

You simply nodded, taking care not to bash your head into his nose from where he was leaning over for you to hear him. He said something you couldn’t hear, words lost to the crowd. But you assumed he wanted you to follow him when he started to merge himself into the throngs of people. Just when you thought that you’d have to try and fight your way through to keep up with him, he was reaching back to grab your hand.

Wrapped his slender fingers around yours without sparing you a second look.

He was just trying to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowd. Yeah, that was it. There was no other reason for it, so therefore your heart had no reason to speed up. To thump in time with the bass as you followed behind him. Especially when the warmth from his palm slid into yours.

“What do you want?” Yoongi turned back to speak in your ear. Shit, you hadn’t even realized that you’d already reached the packed bar. So you forced yourself to focus on the two bartenders running around behind it, rather than the hand still in yours.

“Tequila.” You answered. Yoongi raised both eyebrows in surprise before turning back to the bar. With his eyes no longer on you, it made breathing a whole lot easier. And you turned your attention away from Yoongi’s slim back and towards the stage.

It was all the way on the other side of the room and you watched as a guy walked across it with a mic in his hands. The music was lowered and his voice cracked to life through the speakers. Whatever announcement he was making went in one ear and out the other because Yoongi turned back around with a plastic cup extended out towards you. His other hand was empty and you sent him a questioning look.

Whether or not he knew what you were silently asking, or was just making a general announcement, he answered your question. “I have to perform soon.”

You made an ‘o’ with your mouth and accepted the drink with a smile in thanks. “You still haven’t told me what you’re gonna be doing.”

You had to stand on your tippy-toes in order for Yoongi to hear you, which didn’t go unnoticed by him if the amused gleam in his eyes was anything to go by. “You’ll see.”

Which was exactly how you found yourself with another drink in your hands and your back leaning against the bar. If you were being completely honest, you hadn’t been sure what to expect. A lot of different things had popped into your mind about what kind of shows your partner liked to put on. Some ranging from completely ridiculous, to weird, to funny.

But none of them had been this.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things. A talented producer, a deep thinker, a musical genius.

Never would you have thought to add “rapper” to the list. You should have known, was a little surprised at yourself for not being able to guess. Like all other things Min Yoongi, he was incredibly good at it. Took to the stage like a natural. And you were completely awestruck, unable to look away the whole time he was up on that stage, letting words flow from his lips like some kind of poetic river.

Calm, yet bubbling over with the effortless way he captured the attention of everyone in the room. The track he rapped over was fast paced, but he had no trouble keeping up and keeping the crowd engaged at the same time. He performed three songs, but it wasn’t enough. And judging by the one last look at the crowd Yoongi took before exiting the stage, it wasn’t enough for him either.

Whoever took his place didn’t have one ounce of your attention. And maybe that was rude or whatever, but you didn’t care. Not when you caught sight of his blond head making its way towards you. He got stopped multiple times along the way by people congratulating him with pats on the back or short conversations.

By the time Yoongi finally made his way back to your side, your second drink was extended out to him with a grin on your face. You’d barely even taken a sip from it, so it was completely full and beginning to sweat water. “That was amazing!”

The performer on stage was loud, but you could tell that Yoongi heard you by the smile he tried and failed to hide behind the rim of the plastic cup. But you weren’t going to leave it at that, grabbing a hold of his shoulders and squeezing to make sure you got your point across. “Like, incredibly amazing! Why didn’t you tell me you could rap like that?”

“You never asked.” He shrugged. Yoongi wasn’t the type of person to feed off of compliments, you knew that. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate them. The way his onyx colored eyes glittered told as much. And when he tilted the plastic cup back and drained the contents, the confidence that flowed beneath his skin gave it away too. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Where are we going?”

“Patience, young padawan.”

A snort of amusement from the passenger side of your car had you throwing Yoongi a wink. He completely ignored you in favor of thumbing through the playlist on your phone. It was hooked up to the radio via bluetooth and ever since you’d left the underground club, he’d been focused on silently judging you for your music choices.

When Yoongi had suggested bailing on the club, he hadn’t really had a particular place in mind. Which you’d soon figured out the moment you stepped out the door. He’d taken the subway to the place, so you’d all but shoved him into your car before he had a chance to say no.

“You really have Ariana Grande on here?” He wiggled your phone in your peripheral and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t too busy merging off the freeway.

“What’s wrong with Ari?” You huffed in mock offense.

“Nothing.”

“I can literally hear the judgement in your voice.”

“Maybe you should focus on the road then.”

Now you really did roll your eyes. Though the bark of laughter that accompanied it showed your lack of annoyance. “I would if we weren’t already here.”

Yoongi looked up from your phone just as you were putting the car into park. His eyes squinted into the dark with a furrow of his eyebrows. “We’re at the beach?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ and turned off your car, quickly hopping out before you could fall victim to his flatline stare.

The scent of sea salt lingered in the semi-humid air and you paused for a moment to inhale deeply. There was nothing quite like the smell of the ocean, and when the passenger side door opened and closed, you rounded the car to wave Yoongi along. He caught up to you right as your shoe hit the wooden planks of the boardwalk. You’d had to park way back in one of the lots far away from the beach for whatever godforsaken reason.

Shopfronts, closed and shuttered by metal grates due to the late hour, greeted you as you walked down the path. And Yoongi’s presence at your side was calming. Hell, everything about that man was. Never would you have thought that about him, not at first. Not with the rocky way your friendship had started.

Neither would you have expected the warmth that bloomed in your chest everytime he looked at you with those pretty eyes of his. Or flashed you one of his patented gummy smiles. He’d somehow wormed a place into your heart with that sarcastic wit of his. No, the last thing you would have expected from your final project was this.

But you didn’t mind. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, only looked at you like a friend, you didn’t mind. Because you’d take anything he offered you. And if a friendship was all he was willing to give, that was okay too.

“Where are we going exactly?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you glanced up at him to see that he was already looking at you.

“Do we need to have a destination?” You shot back with a wiggle of your eyebrows. “It’s all in the journey.”

He rolled his eyes skyward as if silently asking why me, but let a smile touch his lips anyway “And this journey leads to the beach I’m guessing?”

“Maybe.” You dragged out the syllables, nudging your shoulder with his playfully. “Don’t tell me you don’t like the beach.”

“Who doesn’t like the beach?”

“That’s exactly what I’m--whoa.” Your feet came to a halt right as you stepped out from between two shops, where the boardwalk met the beach. Yoongi stopped at your side, but you didn’t even notice.

Because you were too busy staring at the apparent concert that was being held further down the beach. Apparently the loud music you’d heard from the parking lot wasn’t from one of the many speakers placed throughout the boardwalk. Well, that would explain the lack of parking at least.

Even from where the two of you stood, you could tell that the crowd was huge. They took up a big chunk of the beach, bodies nothing but a dark mass in the distance as they danced to the music from the stage. You couldn’t tell who it was, not that far away. But the multicolored lights flashed into the sky like a beacon.

“I wonder who’s performing.” Yoongi’s mumble had you bending down to unlace your shoes. “What’re you doing?”

“You wanna know who’s performing?” Slipping off your socks, you threw both those and your shoes into your bag. Once it was closed up, you sent Yoongi a conspiratorial wink. “Let’s go find out.”

He didn’t move, just gave you a look before realization dawned on his face. “You want to sneak in.”

It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded your head anyway. “Come on, when will you ever have the chance to do something like this again. Don’t tell me you’re scared we’ll get caught.”

Yoongi scoffed, but leaned down to slip off his shoes in an uncharacteristic move. You knew he wasn’t much of a partier and didn’t do things like this very often. So the fact that he was caving to your suggestion had your mind whirling. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“At what?”

A smirk was thrown your way as he stood back up, but that was all the answer you got. After all the time you’ve spent with the man, you’d like to consider yourself a Yoongi Whisperer. So that smirk probably meant something along the lines of: I’m surprised that you’re a super awesome badass.

Or something.

“Just come on.” You grabbed his hand without thinking, dragging him behind you onto the sand. When he failed to complain, you took that as a greenlight to continue doing so.

When his fingers linked themselves with yours, it took all you had to not falter in your steps. To pretend like you weren’t affected by such a thoughtless action. To calm the rapid beating of your heart.

The closer you got to the concert, the louder the music got, until you could hear the roar of the crowd over the artist on stage. It was EDM, or at least sounded like it. Of course, as soon as you got closer, you spotted your first hurdle. One you’d been unable to see from far away.

A chain link fence stood between the two of you and a night of fun. It had your shoulders deflating before you even realized it, and you turned to the blond at your side. “Should we climb it or something?”

Biting your lip, you eyed just how far up it was. Even if the two of you managed to climb it, there was no way that you wouldn’t be spotted by security. And being arrested was the last thing on your to-do list.

“Or.” Yoongi crossed over to the fence and wrapped his hands along the bottom of it. With a quick glance around to make sure that no one was looking, he lifted it up and back, bending it backwards with just enough space left at the bottom for someone to squeeze underneath.

There was no way that he would have been strong enough on his own to lift it, and a closer look had you snorting a laugh. Apparently the two of you weren’t the only ones who’d had the idea to sneak in.

“You going?” He questioned and you started forward before a smartass remark could leave his mouth.

The sand was cool beneath your body as you shimmied underneath the space between the fence and the ground. And once you were on the other side, you crouched down and grabbed the fence from Yoongi to pull back towards your side. “I’m surprised that you’re going along with this, to be honest. Don’t you hate music like this?”

He grunted as he crawled across the sand towards you. “You wanted to.”

“So?” Your voice was soft, but he was still able to hear you over the pounding bass. The fence dropped from your fingers once he was on your side, but you didn’t move, just stared up at him as he stood.

“So.” Yoongi started, extending a hand down to help you up. “Are you coming?”

His answer had warmth blossoming in your chest and a tiny smile blooming on your face. Had you reaching out to let him help you up off the sand. He didn’t let go while you brushed yourself off, but he did guide the both of you towards the writhing crowd, if only to avoid being spotted by security.

It was a good thing that Yoongi was a slim man, because it made slipping through the numerous dancing bodies closer towards the stage a whole lot easier. You’d made it to about the middle when he stopped and tugged you closer to join him in a pocket of space between two different groups of people. The scent of marijuana mixed in with sea salt from the ocean in a cocktail that usually accompanied things like that.

“Dance with me.” You spoke into Yoongi’s ear, ignoring the excited flush you felt at being so close to him.

“I can’t dance.” He stated, despite the hand he slipped around your waist and pressed into your back. Whether or not to move you out of the range of the group of girls dancing wildly behind you, or something else, you didn’t know.

Chest to chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating. “Mm. I don’t believe you. Everyone can dance.”

“That’s a lie.” Yoongi’s lips were titled up at the corners and his gaze on you was soft. Gentle.

The flashing lights on the stage flickered through his dark colored eyes. Turned those once pools of onyx into a glittering galaxy that you couldn’t look away from. That hypnotized you like the beat that pulsed beneath your skin and drowned your ears.

“That’s not true.” Your mumble was lost to the crowd. Buried somewhere underneath the music as he moved closer. And the butterflies nestled deep in your gut fluttered their wings when his other hand cupped the side of your face.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his nose brushed yours and his breath fanned across your cheek. That was the only warning you got before his mouth was on yours. His lips were soft and he tasted like the strawberry chapstick he liked to wear. And the kiss, like everything Min Yoongi, was slow. Not in a lazy way. More like he was taking the time to savor it. To remember what your hair felt like as he slid his hand into it.

Or the way you involuntarily sighed into his mouth when his teeth caught your bottom lip. How your fingers found their way into the short hairs at the nape of his neck when you pulled him closer. How he’d had to hold back a laugh at the way you were standing on your tippy-toes in order to reach him.

You probably wouldn’t have pulled away and neither would he, if it weren’t for the rain that suddenly tore from the sky like an opened dam. Drenching anything and everything around it faster than you could blink. It had you forcing yourself away from the magnetizing pull of Yoongi’s lips to give him an eye crinkling smile.

“What was that for?” You didn’t care if you were getting wet.

Neither did he apparently, because he ran a thumb over the lips he’d just kissed, sending shivers down your spine. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No. Break it down for me.”

He met your imploring gaze almost bashfully, eyes squinting from the rain. “I’ve liked you since practically the beginning of the semester.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t know how.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you let out a small laugh. “I can’t believe you, Min Yoongi.”

He opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by a loud clap of thunder. Both of you glanced up at the dark sky at the same time.

Everyone around you was either ignoring the torrential downpour or shrieking and attempting to use anything to shield themselves from getting wet. Once the sound of thunder echoed a streak of lightning, you knew what was about to happen next and turned to meet Yoongi’s eyes. He, like everyone else, was drenched and his blond hair stuck to the damp skin of his face. It had you grinning at the pout on his mouth and you leaned forward to press your lips to his one final time before pulling away.

“We should get out of here before everyone else decides to do the same.” You had to shout to be heard over both the rain and the noise from everything else. It was only a matter of time before the concert got either canceled or postponed due to the thunderstorm and you didn’t want to be caught in the middle.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Yoongi wiped water from his eyes and grabbed your hand to start navigating the hell out of there.

And as your eyes trained themselves to his slim back and your fingers interlocked themselves with his, you smiled. The lyrics that you’d been struggling so hard to write came to life beneath the fire in your chest. You had no one but the man in front of you to thank for the inspiration.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a poet, a light in a sea of darkness.

Min Yoongi was nothing if not beautiful.

[idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf]

How Mervana shows Louie’s response to trauma.

I made a super short post basically saying “Hey I like how Mervana highlights Louie’s trauma and it’s effects on him” and people seemed interested in hearing more about it so here’s that post.

Now, it’s no secret (generally) that Louie really hates adventures. That’s obvious throughout the show, up to the most recent season. He never seems to want to go on adventures, always objecting to them or not going or changing his mind and wanting to go back half way through. The show never fails to remind us that he hates them. What’s more, the show never fails to remind us exactly why Louie hates adventures. In Glomtales he was actually happy to be missing the adventure at first, commenting “Well, at least I can skip out on another insanely dangerous adventure”. Something that only changed when he realized they were going somewhere not only safe but actually fun, something very rare. In The Golden Armory Of Cornelius Coot he rocks back and forth trying to convince himself of why the adventure was worth it, clearly extremely distressed. “Do not laugh in the face of my danger” he shouted when Dewey starting giggling. Later in that episode he basically sobbed out “I wanna go home”. In Challenge Of The Senior Woodchuck he says “I’m cold and terrified, this sure seems like an adventure to me.”

Most of the family isn’t actually affected by the constant stress and danger they’re put in. Huey, Dewey, Webby, Della, and Scrooge all find it incredibly exciting, Donald used to once upon a time and he stopped adventuring after it stopped being that. Nobody else has really gone through what Louie has. He isn’t built for adventuring. He’s been kidnapped, physically and mentally hurt, almost killed. Constantly. According to an article I read, “Trauma results from an event, series of events, or set of circumstances that is experienced by an individual as physically or emotionally harmful or threatening and that can have lasting adverse effects on the individual’s functioning and physical, social, emotional well-being.” and well, that absolutely fits the bill here. Below i’m going to put some symptoms of trauma that are in line with what we’ve seen from Louie throughout the show

Anger, irritability, mood swings

Anxiety and fear

Guilt, shame, self-blame

Withdrawing from others

Feeling sad or hopeless

Feeling disconnected or numb

Fatigue

Being startled easily

Edginess and agitation

Extreme alertness; always on the lookout for warnings of potential danger

Detachment from other people and emotions

Emotional numbing

Suspicion

Throughout the show there are many instances of Louie’s trauma being very obvious to anybody paying attention. However I think the episode Mervana actually showcased the effects outside of just Louie being visibly distressed over actively being in danger. Other episodes have shown his symptoms, obviously. His anxiety and fear are always on during at adventure and when they aren’t he’s shockingly, almost unusually numb to the situation. He’s almost always very fatigued (although the line between what’s fatigue and what’s just ‘laziness’ is a bit blurred), and he’s almost always a bit too hostile towards others. But Mervana showed a really direct ‘cause and effect’ type relationship with the things they’ve been through and his behavior throughout that episode.

Starting off the episode, we can see Louie seems very detached. He’s texting throughout Huey and Scrooge’s monologues. As I said earlier, when it comes to adventuring he’s always either in fight or flight mode or he’s completely detached, maybe offering occasional dull but volatile remarks here and there. Eventually Louie makes a comment about how “Now there’s two people putting us in constant danger” before sitting like this for the next minute or so

The other’s are mid conversation but he just kinda sits there blankly for a while before turning to make another remark. “Yeah, I definitely can’t wait to find a bunch of lost undersea monsters who definitely won’t have a dark secret that almost gets us killed”. And it’s important to recognize that Louie isn’t just being a pessimist here. He may not be in panic mode at the moment because he tends to emotionally detach himself until it’s time for his fight or flight responses to kick in (likely a way to cope with the constant anxiety that seems to follow him) but he’s still got a very good point because they are put in constant danger and this episode really, truly, is no different. Webby even asks “Why do you always have to assume the worst?” to which Louie pulls out his running list of the times they’ve been offered as a sacrifice. He’s almost died countless times. He’s watched his brother’s and sister almost die countless times. No, not countless, he’s counting. He’s literally keeping count of the number of traumatic experiences he’s gone through, which is at least one hundred and twenty. And that’s just the amount of sacrifices, which is to say nothing about kidnappings or non sacrifice related straight up murder attempts. 

Let me just say, though, that his suspicious nature, while completely natural due to his past traumatic experiences, and while somewhat grounded in reality because they did end up in danger during this episode, wasn’t completely accurate. Most of the Mervanan’s were genuinely good people but Louie immediately assumed they were going to hurt him and his family. He was on edge. He was immediately suspicious, even before he met them, even before he was given reason to be suspicious. The only person who read into things as deeply as he did was Beakley, who’s a secret agent. She will have been trained to be suspicious and pick up on small signs that something isn’t right, but Louie wasn’t. Louie was just on edge and suspicious of everything because those are big signs of trauma. He was right that something wrong was going on, but it wasn’t observational skills on his part as shown by the fact that he was sure they’d be put in danger before they ever met the Mervanan’s. 

A few times this episode we see the flip from Louie being on edge and suspicious to him actually genuinely being put in danger. And you can see clear as day that he gets no satisfaction out of it. Everyone else is usually proud or energized. Excited to fight, smug when they win or get away. It’s not the same for Louie.

And you can see there’s a difference even between Beakley’s suspicions based on genuine observation and valid doubt when compared to Louie’s which are based in the fact that he’s a traumatized individual who’s had his brain rewired in a way that makes him suspicious to an unhealthy degree. “You have no idea weather or not they’re going to feed us to their monster king?” Beakley asked The Harp. She was suspicious because she knows how the world works and realized something was wrong (because something was wrong) but she was rational about it. They didn’t have solid evidence, she didn’t know for sure. But Louie immediately replied by saying “they definitely are” which isn’t a rational thought process when he really, truly had no evidence to believe so other than his deepseeded instinct to trust nobody.

And when Beakley admitted that she didn’t trust the Mervanan’s either there was very little smugness in the way he handled it. Louie didn’t insist as hard as he did that something was wrong and that you can’t trust anybody just to prove a point to Webby. Immediately he interrupted Beakley and Webby’s situation by jumping in with “We need to get the harp down to the Mervanan’s or we’re all going to die!” Louie was truly in panic mode throughout this episode. He wasn’t just being a pessimist trying to crush Webby’s bright optimistic hope, he was trying to protect his family. When he first set off to find the harp he said “I’m going to find the harp before we all get sacrificed”. Then when he was debating weather or not to tell Webby the truth he pointed out that “If she doesn’t (find out the truth) she’ll be fish food!”. Then when he’s trying to move the harp down to the other’s his biggest concern is “Gotta save family”. It’s not just pessimism, it’s fear and suspicion, which are very different things. 

Later on we see that Louie’s ideals don’t fully match up with his behavior either. “The king turned himself into a monster, but you’re not him.  You built a society based on truth, and the truth is you don’t need Mervana to be good.” before turning to Webby and telling her “Somebody once told me that you have to look for the best in people and not assume the worst” and honestly, I don’t feel like this is abnormal thinking for him. Believe it or not, Louie is the kind of person to believe in other’s positive traits. He does very often see the good in people and obviously on a level of principal alone he doesn’t think all people are bad.  

However principals and logic are often overcome by the brain’s natural response to trauma. And those natural responses often aren’t as idealistic as “anyone can be good and you shouldn’t assume the worst in people”. Fear and anger and anxiety. Seeing danger everywhere. Always being on guard. They’re not something you can control. No matter how much you believe people can be good that instinctive urge to trust nobody spurred on by trauma is often much stronger. Especially when you’re not getting any professional help and have someone to protect. Even if Louie wanted to believe in people (and I think he does), his survival instincts are stronger than that. Even if he didn’t care about his own safety, he has a family who are too dumb to care about their own so he has to do that for them.

Overall a LOT of Louie’s storyline during Mervana was obviously highlighting his response to the trauma he’s had to deal with over the course of the show. And sadly I don’t think he’ll stop having these reactions anytime soon because it takes more than just knowing people can be good to deal with changes to your brain’s chemical makeup.

[lettertomyself]

Blue Sweaters

Pairing - Ava x MC

Word count - 7.1k

Emma burns.

Not because she’s warm, she’s the opposite, actually, it’s pretty chilly.

No, she burns because she’s angry. She’s mad, she would like to punch a wall if the opportunity ever arose.

When Emma thought about going to the homecoming dance, she’d imagined bright lights, romantic songs. She’s imagined Mason and her slow dancing for exactly the perfect amount of time until the moment felt just right and they both leaned in for the perfect kiss. She’d imagined fireworks and butterflies and everything else that’s supposed to happen when you kiss someone you’d loved all your life. Emma, however, had not imagined her date getting into a fist fight with somebody else. She hadn’t expected being kicked out of the dance, hadn’t expected never having that perfect dance along with that perfect kiss. Emma is angry about many things, dates getting into fights, being kicked out, and above all, she’s angry that this whole day, homecoming, feels like a waste. After the game, when Mason asked her to the dance she recalls feeling so much. Now she’s just angry. She huffs, pacing outside with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Because as she walks, even though she is absolutely burning with rage, and anger, and indignation and everything else right and valid, she also feels rather cold in the autumn air. It’s pretty chill for October. Not for the first time that night she wishes she hadn’t had Mason be her ride. Emma, still likes him, maybe, but right now she feels as if she has the right to be mad, and if she sees his face right now with all his bruises and a sad look in his eyes, she might be inclined to forgive him, and she will later, but right now she thinks she deserves the right to stew in her anger for just a little bit longer. She shivers, rubbing her arms again. If only she could stew somewhere warmer. For a moment, Emma considers calling her father to pick her up. Immediately after she shuts it down. She can practically already hear the pride in his voice, when she’d inevitably have to tell him why she had to leave. She knows that he’s said he’s going to be a better father and that should be enough, and she wants to think that it will be, but then she remembers all the looks he gave, and the things he’s done. Her father has always told her ‘actions speak louder than words’ and more than anything, she thinks he should take his own advice. His actions spoke volumes. Emma remembers the police station, how he wouldn’t drive her home so she could think about her actions. Emma only wishes he thought about his. So, Emma clenches her fists, she’s not calling her father. For one second, she debates walking, then her heels pinch at her feet, and the sky seems to get darker in relation, as if to say, ‘you really want to walk home, now?’ Emma doesn’t, actually. What can she do? Mason’s busy getting chewed out by the principal. That’ll take a while. Emma chews her lip, maybe she should wait for him, he’s her only option right now. She just doesn’t know if she could handle the awkward car ride home. She could probably roll with the awkwardness, but does she want to? Emma pulls out her phone and opens her last conversation with Mason. mason: on my way, excited to see you tonight! emma: ok!! see you soon <3 Emma winces, she remembers debating for five minutes on whether she should send the heart. Those five minutes ended abruptly with Mackenzie breaking into her room, grabbing her phone, and pressing send before Emma could stop her. (“It’s not that big of a deal,” Mackenzie had said, Emma had been too busy trying not to cry to respond.) It hadn’t mattered in the end, Mason had sent a heart back a few minutes later, and all her worries had evaporated into fuzzy-happy feelings. She had felt so happy then, now she just feels tired. Emma starts typing before she can convince herself not to. emma: hey, so i was wondering if... She paused. Wondering if what? How is she supposed to phrase this in a way that won’t make her feel like a jerk? She yelled at him, and now she’s asking for a ride. Emma’s never felt more hypocritical in her life. She glares down at her phone, at the stupid hearts, at her stupid half-written text message, at Mason previously saying he’d be happy to see her, and she agreed, but he was wrong. She was wrong Emma is back to burning. She’s in the process of trying to melt her phone into lava with her stare, when someone puts their hand on her shoulder. Emma jumps, and almost drops her phone. She doesn’t, luckily, she doesn’t want to know how her father would react to that a broken phone She almost tells the person to leave her alone until she looks up.

She blinks, Ava Lawrence?

Haven’t had a conversation that hasn’t ended in argument in forever, Ava Lawrence?

That Ava?

Emma is having trouble processing, that Ava Lawrence, Ava Lawrence, would want anything to do with her.

If Ava noticed anything weird about her, she doesn’t mention anything. Instead of saying anything, Ava just leans against the side of the building with Emma, tapping her foot against the brick, and resting her head against the wall. The moment is so terrifyingly normal that Emma suddenly feels horribly nostalgic. Ava must feel the nostalgia seeping into the atmosphere too, because she smiles.

Emma hasn’t seen that smile, a genuine one, in a very long time. It’s nice, the kind of smile that sparks fireworks in the hearts of everyone ever. It makes her want to smile too.

“You cold?” Ava asks.

She blinks, “What?”

“You’ve been out here for a while, ever since the fight.”

Emma starts, “You noticed?”

“The fight? Where Mason threw Noah into the punch bowl? The one half the dance recorded? I think everyone did,”

“No, no, not that, you just, “She trails off, clearing her throat, she can’t help but notice how dry it is, “You noticed I was gone?”

“Yeah, duh. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emma is having a considerably difficult time finding only one answer to that question.

“Right,” She settles on.

Still, the guilt from before is piling up. Ava, the person’s she’s been a horrible friend to, is being nice. Ava, who noticed she was gone. Ava whose very smile makes something twist inside of her chest.

Even though her burning anger from before has since settled, there’s something about her that makes Emma still feel the slightest bit warm.

“So,” Emma starts, “Did you have fun at the dance?”

“Nope,” At Emma’s guilty look, Ava laughs,” Not because of the fight, the fight was the best part actually, gave me a chance to talk to you,”

Ava bumps Emma’s shoulder with her own, Emma finds the spot their shoulders touched scorching hot.

Emma laughs awkwardly, she doesn’t know how to take the compliment, and she feels weird. She thinks she might be coming down with a fever.

“You could’ve talked to me before,” Emma says.

“Yeah, I guess,” Ava turns away for a second,” But it wouldn’t have been talking,”

“What?” Emma frowns.

“We haven’t talked in forever,” Ava stresses the word, turning back to face her, there’s something unreadable in her eyes, “Not actually talked, it just- it wasn’t the same.”

She tenses, “I’m sorry. With Mason I thought- “

Ava cuts her off, “It’s not just Mason, it was like this before him, we just never acknowledged it, we should have acknowledged it.”

Emma feels her chest tighten, because Ava’s right. She remembers pulling away from their friendship in early sophomore year. She doesn’t remember why exactly, but that was also the year her crush on Mason escalated to the extreme. If she’s being honest, she doesn’t remember much from that year. It was all valentines’ cards with too much glitter and staring at the ceiling at night thinking of elaborate ways to profess her love for someone who didn’t like her back. She hadn’t realized but maybe in pursuing Mason, she had been pushing Ava further and further away.

Except maybe he did like her back then. Emma wonders why the thought makes her feels worse. She rubs her arms, it didn’t matter anyway, because there’s a part of her that regrets all the pining. She spent all those years, hoping he would one day look at her as more than a friend, and now that he has, she doesn’t know if it was worth it.

All she can look at now, is Ava, and the way their friendship has deteriorated for so long and Emma hadn’t even noticed. She never considered that the reason they hadn’t been talking as much, wasn’t just a senior year thing, but an entirety of high school thing. And it wasn’t because of Mason, not in the way she thought it was, it was all because of her.

The guilt Emma carries swirls, and if it’s possible, seems to grow even larger.

Emma suddenly does not feel very good.

She wraps her hands around her arms, taking in the night. It’s late, but it doesn’t seem like anyone else notices, everything is still just a little bit too loud. Cars rush past in the main street, and the streetlights are glowing in the way they only can in the night. As she stares, Emma feels the wind brush past her arms, she can feel the chill of it on the back of her neck, she shivers. The moon glows, and Ava’s presence beside her seems to glow even brighter. Though Ava’s the closest they’ve been in a while, Emma has never felt lonelier.

She rubs her shoulders, there’s so much to say. She doesn’t know to start.

An apology is always a good start.

“I’m sorry,” She looks down, twisting her fingers, “This is my fault,”

Ava doesn’t say anything, and Emma’s scared to look up, so she settles on staring down at the ground, there’s a crack in the concrete, that could be dangerous if left unchecked, she focuses on that instead of the weighted stare of the person beside her.

“This is all my fault,” She says again, it's easy to start with facts, “I’m a bad friend, and I don’t think I’ve been a good one to you in a very long time.”

She continues, her voice shaky. “I guess, I got distracted by Mason, for-- for years. And I never got undistracted, which is my fault, and I should have been paying more attention to you, because we’re here and they’re there, and, and, and-- I don’t know why any of it was so important.”

Emma’s throat burns, she doesn’t know if it’s because she’s just spoken more words than she should have, or if she just really, really wants to cry. She decides it might be both.

She isn’t going to cry, but she does sniff terribly loud because she is two seconds away from crying, and it is just as embarrassing.

Emma looks down resolutely at her shoes, she knows if she looks up, she’ll see Ava’s expression, and whatever is on her face, will either destroy Emma or make her cry. Either way, she’s two minutes away from running away and never looking up. Her feet will hurt running in heels, but she thinks it might be worth it rather than having to look into Ava’s face and only seeing disappointment.

‘Emma,” Ava says. It’s one word, just her name, but Emma looks up immediately. Somehow Ava has managed to stand directly in front of the moon, the perspective makes Emma breathless, the full moon is like a halo to Ava. It makes her heart jump-start. Emma can’t put a name to this thrumming in her chest, but it feels new, she isn’t sure if she’s ever felt anything this intensely.

There’s something in Ava’s eyes, the same unreadable look she’d seen before, but this time it seems sharper. Before Emma can look too closely, it softens. Ava smiles, and with the moon behind her Emma thinks this new feeling might be killing her.

Ava’s smile brightens, if that’s even possible, and she grabs Emma’s hand. “Do you want a ride?”

“Okay,” Emma focuses on their hands together, wondering why it seems so important, suddenly deciding she would like to never let go.

-

The drive home is nice. It seems like old times, when they would sing out of tune in the back of whoever’s family’s’ minivan, back when they were only kids and they would sing as loud as they wanted to. They couldn’t drive places on their own yet, they also didn’t know how to sing, but that didn’t stop them, it was fun.

Emma misses it, before her mom died, before her father became who he is now, before everything became so much worse. She misses being out of tune.

Emma looks over at Ava, crooning to whatever song’s playing on the radio, and yet is still somehow still driving perfectly. Emma wonders how she does it, but Ava is perfect at many things, so she isn’t all surprised. Emma might recognize the song, but she can’t tell over Ava’s terrible singing. She is somehow off-key on every single note, Emma didn’t think it was possible, but Ava exceeds expectations. Emma knows that technically Ava is probably the worst singer ever, but looking over, seeing the grin on her face and the joy she radiates clear as day, Emma thinks she might be the best.

Emma must look embarrassingly sappy looking over at Ava, but she can’t help herself, she’s lucky to have her friend back.

“What are you looking at?” Ava teases, glancing at Emma.

“You,” it slips out, and Emma is only momentarily embarrassed at the brutal honesty, “Your voice is incredible, you know?”

Ava rolls her eyes, still smiling, “Okay.”

“Really, “Emma insists, “Incredible, it’s very… powerful, and strong, and--“

“Okay, Emma,” Ava laughs, and Emma is suddenly very glad she isn’t driving, she feels she would forget how to function at the sound, “I know I’m not good. It’s fine, I’m not trying to be. Sometimes it’s just fun to sound bad.”

Ava continues, glancing over for a second, “You ever just… have fun?”

Emma wants to answer, but she doesn’t exactly know how to. She tries to remember the last time she’s had fun. It’s more difficult than she thought. There’s the time she spray-painted with Mackenzie, but that had ended in the police station with more bad memories than she knows what to do with. That night had started fun and ended with Emma trying her hardest not to cry. She doesn’t know if that counts as fun, she would like to think it did not.

Then there was the time she took pictures of the football field, that was fun too, for a bit, until Mason and Noah had started fighting. Emma frowns, Mason and Noah certainly fight a lot. She supposes she might have noticed before, but tonight, at the dance, was just the tipping point.

But hanging out with Ava has always been fun.

“’m having fun with you,” Emma turns, resting her chin on her hand to look out the window. It’s getting late, she wonders what time it is.

“Oh,” Ava says. She doesn’t continue for a moment; Emma vaguely wonders if she said something wrong.

“I mean,” Ava starts, her voice strangely high, “I mean- besides me, what do you do for fun?”

Emma hums, “I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” She sighs, “I’ve spent so much time focusing on Mason, that I guess that was fun to me? I don’t know.”

“Mason? You don’t like him anymore?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’m mad at him, I think. Am I allowed to be mad?” Emma asks, she trusts Ava, she’s right about many things.

“You’re allowed to be mad.” Ava confirms.

“Okay, then I’m mad.”

Emma spots the moon outside her window. She scowls at it, then quickly stops, the moon’s done nothing wrong.

“Are you always going to be mad?” Ava asks.

“Maybe.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Ava raise an eyebrow.

Ava really is right about many things, “Okay, okay. Maybe not. We’ve always been friends, that’s hard to ignore.”

“Right. But you don’t like him?”

“No, “She starts, turning away from the window to look at Ava with an incredulous expression. “Do… you like him? Again?”

Emma can see it, Mason’s very charming. She likes to think she wouldn’t necessarily mind if they got back together, not that she doesn’t like Mason anymore, but for some reason it makes her skin itch, she really hopes she wasn’t lying to herself when she said she got over him.

“No. God, no.” Ava snorts, “No offense, but dating him was a nightmare.”

Emma winces, “That bad?”

“Worse.” She laughs, “He kissed someone else at a party, while I was in the other room. Who does that?”

Emma apparently, Emma does that. Emma would also like to open the car door and jump out due to guilt and mortification.

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you, “She pauses, “Well, I was. But now I just find it funny. “

“I’m still sorry that happened, “Emma says. It sounds weak to her own ears, but Ava doesn’t seem to mind.

“Don’t be. It was the push I needed to break up with him.”

Emma looks down at her fingers, twisting them. “Did you ever like him?”

“He’s on the football team, he’s nice, good grades. What isn’t there to like?”

Ava sounds more like she’s trying to convince herself rather than Emma. The conversation from the roof comes to mind, and Emma bites her tongue. She doesn’t know what to say to that.

It’s quiet for a bit. The radio is still loud, playing something on the Top 40’s. Emma tunes it out watching the road move as the car drives. It’s entrancing.

She almost doesn’t notice the road signs. “Oh, we take a left here—"

“I know, I remember.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, of course,”

Something in the words makes Emma smile. She remembers. She doesn’t know why it matters so much, but she can’t stop smiling at the thought. She knows that technically they’ve been friends for forever, and Ava remembering isn’t something entirely significant, but it still fills Emma with all kinds of warm and fuzzy feelings. Because she remembers.

Emma hides her smile in her palm as she looks out the window. This is fine, an absolutely normal thing to smile about.

She steadily avoids looking directly at Ava, she feels that in that moment, it might be like looking at the sun.

As time passes, she can feel her eyes drooping, the landscape starts to blur together. Emma’s been feeling rather tired lately, she thinks this must be a good as time as any to sleep.

-

Time flies by in flashes. She remembers shivering and feeling terribly cold. That could have just been a dream, Emma thinks, she doesn’t feel cold anymore. The radio that was so loud before, sounds incredibly soft now. There is a warmth in her chest, she doesn’t know where it came from, but she would never like it to leave. Emma feels content and she wonders, if only briefly, when the last time it was that she might have felt anywhere close to this.

She feels someone nudge her shoulder. Oh, Ava.

Emma yawns, she’s very tired, going back to sleep doesn’t sound like too terrible of an idea.

Ava nudges her again, “We’re here, at your house.”

Emma blinks, “Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“You look tired, “Ava comments. “Maybe you should go to bed,”

“I’m not tired, “Emma tries to protest, but considering she can’t seem to keep her eyes open; she doesn’t think she’s being very convincing.

“Okay,” Ava says simply, from the smile on her lips Emma can tell she doesn’t believe her. The smile pulls at Emma’s chest, she feels very floaty all of a sudden.

“Really!” She stresses.

“Okay, I believe you,”

Ava’s still smiling, and Emma’s chest is still doing somersaults and maybe Emma does need to go to bed.

Emma starts to cross her arms, to protest that even if she is feeling tired, it doesn’t matter, but there’s a blanket in her lap and it stops her in her tracks.

At closer inspection, it isn’t a blanket. It’s a sweater. Blue, soft, large, and everything good at once. She decides she loves it immediately.

“What is this?” Emma asks.

“One of my sweaters, you looked cold, so…” Ava trails off.

Emma is having trouble remembering how to respond. She’s distracted by many things but pushes away all the ones that start with ‘Ava’ and focuses on one.

“But… but you were driving- “

“Not when I gave it to you, the light was red,” Ava looks amused, meanwhile Emma is trying to remember how to breathe, “Just because I don’t know how to sing, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to drive.”

“Right, I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Emma’s still a little preoccupied by the warmness of the sweater in her hands so she sounds more sincere than she meant to. But she’s tired, her brain to mouth filter is slowly disappearing, she can’t bring herself to care. She missed Ava, with her things are easy.

Ava hums in agreement.

Emma takes a second to look out the window. The porch-light to her house isn’t on, which either means her father isn’t in, or he is, and he plans to interrogate Emma as soon as she steps in the door. She’d much rather have the former.  

“I guess I should be going.” Emma has never sounded as reluctant as she is now.

Ava nods, it warms Emma’s heart that she looks just as hesitant.

“Um, thanks” Emma starts,” for the ride, it was nice of you. You didn’t have to.”

“And let you have to ask Mason for a ride? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“He wouldn’t be awful, but-“

“But it’d be awkward, right? I wouldn’t do that to you.” Ava smiles, “Besides, this way, I got to save you and hang out with you,”

Emma can only smile, “This is much better than having to ask Mason.”

“The bar is on the ground, but I agree.”

Emma snorts, Mason really isn’t that horrible, but she imagines a car ride with Mason with awkward small talk, and no radio, and having to talk about the weather of all things. She decides she’d rather be nowhere else other than here with Ava.

She smiles, “I really like hanging out with you, Ava.”

“You’re so sappy,” Ava comments, “But, okay, I really like hanging out with you, too.”

At Ava’s words, she can feel her heart jumpstart. She feels tempted to hide her face in the sweater and never emerge from it. She’s smiling so much, and she doesn’t know if she can stop. Emma is a pile of goo, and she is never going to emotionally recover from this.

She doesn’t know what this feeling is, but it is on the tip of her tongue.

Emma thinks about the sweater in her lap, about how Ava turned the radio down when she was asleep, about how Ava notices more about her than maybe anyone else. Emma thinks about the warmness in her chest, and the smile that never seems to leave. She feels the buzz in her fingers, and the non-stop drumming in her heart. Emma thinks of many things and feels even more, she isn’t sure if she understands it yet, but she would like to.

“No, I mean,“ Emma isn’t very coherent, but she is full of tired words, and they are big and heavy and bursting to get out, “I’ve been thinking about all the time I spent thinking about Mason, when I really should have just been thinking about you,”

Emma’s chest feels lighter, like the words she’s been carrying have always been a weight she has never been able to let go off.

She doesn’t know when, but the atmosphere in the car has gotten significantly heavier. Almost like the heaviness in her chest has left to encompass the air of the car.

Emma doesn’t notice herself look away from Ava, but she finds that her gaze is fixed on the dashboard, she isn’t sure she can tear it away.

Right when the thrumming of Emma’s chest reaches an extreme, Ava reaches over grabbing one of Emma’s hands in her own.

“Are you, “Ava says, “thinking now?”

“Yeah,” Emma says immediately, its breathy, and it sounds so unlike her own voice she almost doesn’t recognize it. She’s looking at Ava now, and she doesn’t think she can stop, doesn’t think she wants to

And Oh.

Oh.

That’s what the feeling is.

The feelings she couldn’t understand were feelings. Romantic ones, for Ava specifically.

There are so many things she doesn’t understand, so many things she doesn’t know yet, but she does know, right now, that the thrumming in heart points to Ava. She knows that many things point to Ava.

Emma would like to say something, but the words die in her throat. She’s glad for it, she isn’t sure what she would have said.

They’re closer now than they were before, Emma’s having trouble thinking, and all she can focus on is Ava’s hand in hers.

Just then, the porch light turns on, then off, then on again. Its flickering, like a siren without the sound. She’d be worried if her father hadn’t done this exact same thing every time Emma went on a date. Emma groans, her head falling onto the dashboard. She debates sinking lower into the passenger seat and never being seen again. She figures she could do it, if she really tried.

“Sorry, that was--,” Emma cringes, “that’s my dad, he must be wondering why we’ve been sitting here for so long,”

If Ava is bothered, she doesn’t show it, Emma meanwhile might be dying of embarrassment,

“It’s fine, not like we were making out or anything,”

Emma coughs, feeling her face burn, “Yeah, that’d uh, good thing we weren’t doing that, not like I would mind or anything, but that’d be crazy.”

Ava looks amused, Emma feels she might have done something terrible to have deserved this.

“Um,” Emma gathers up all her belongings, embarrassment clear as day. Emma is absolutely mortified, “I should get going, I’ll text you?”

Ava grins, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind or anything, but that’d be crazy, right?”

Emma groans, “Can we please forget that ever happened?”

Ava’s grin grows even larger, “I don’t know, I think it was cute.”

Emma would like to scream, she doesn’t of course, but she would like to.

She doesn’t know how to respond articulately to Ava calling her cute, so she doesn’t, instead Emma opens the door as best as she can, it’s hard when her face is as warm as it is.

“I’ll text you later though, okay?” She can hear the smile in Ava’s voice, and she almost trips over the sound as she walks over to her flickering porch-light. She turns around, before she can trip, and flashes a thumbs up, alongside a shaky smile.

When Emma reaches her front door, Ava starts to drive off. Before she does, Ava gives her a bright smile, it warms Emma up all the way to the top of her head. Emma tries to return it, but it’s hard, she never has liked going home, especially when she knows her father’s waiting, ready with a lecture.

She watches Ava’s car turn the corner, it is only then that she steels herself, letting the smile drop. She turns around, unlocking the door, she can do this. She can’t help but think about how much she already misses Ava.

-

Her father is not mad. It’s so surprising, Emma thinks it’s a joke at first. Then again, her father has never exactly been funny.

He only sits her down and questions why she was in the car as long as she was. He heavily implies that if she were making out with anyone, he’d be fine with it. Emma heavily implies that ‘no way, she would never, why would you even think that?’ She gets the feeling he might not exactly believe her, and she understands. Her face has never felt as hot as it does now. She’s still burning with the mortification of her father thinking she might have been making out with someone, alongside the mortification of her father not being too far off.

She hadn’t been making out with Ava, but maybe she wanted to?

She rubs her hands over the soft fabric of the sweater Ava had given her. Emma hadn’t meant to take it from the car, but in the haste of not dying from embarrassment, she must have accidentally grabbed it. She had forgotten about it then, but she can’t bring herself to now. The fabric is so soft and warm, it reminds her a bit of the fuzzy feelings she feels with Ava.

Ava, who she has feelings for. Ava, who she has romantic feelings for.

Emma, who for the past ten minutes has been sitting on her bed questioning everything she’s ever known, covers her face with her hands and groans.

She has never been one to deny her feelings. She feels things strongly and loves even stronger. But so far in her life, she’s never loved anyone other than Mason. This is new territory for her.

Emma’s only known she’s had a crush for twenty minutes, but in those minutes, she has had many thoughts and one hundred percent of them have been about Ava.

She fingers the sweater in her hands, its soft, warm, perfect sweater material, a part of Emma wants to make a joke about it being ‘girlfriend material’ too but she smothers it down. She wonders where Ava got the sweater, she’d like her own, for reasons entirely unrelated to Ava, of course.

Huffing, she grabs her phone. Telling Ava that she accidentally stole her sweater, would probably be the kind thing to do.

When she unlocks the phone, she frowns. Her half-written text message to Mason still displayed. At the sight, she feels guilt swirl in her chest, the fuzzy butterflies she felt with Ava disappearing.

She left without a text, or acknowledgement, or anything. The last time they spoke to each other, was harsh, primarily on Emma’s side. She doesn’t regret it; she is angry about all the fighting between Noah and Mason. She is angry that it came to a boil at the dance. She’s angry about many things. But she feels the anger slowly calm, like a thermometer settling at ninety-nine. On the edge of burning, but not quite there yet.

Emma isn’t burning anymore. She looks down at the sweater in her hands, maybe she’d had a little help with that.

She figures she and Mason should probably talk soon, but for now, Ava.

She switches to her last text conversation with her, it wasn’t recent. It hurts more than she thought, but they’re friends now, it’s fine.

She exhales, first conversation with Ava after the realization. 

Emma: hey! You left your sweater

Emma: and by left i mean i accidentally borrowed it

Emma: and by borrowed i mean stole

Emma: on accident

Emma: anyway do you want it back?

Before she can type anything else, she throws her phone as far as she can. Luckily, it lands with a thump on the other side of her bed. She doesn’t need a cracked screen, but she also doesn’t need to feel tempted to send any more texts than she just did. She doesn’t need to be more embarrassed.

Emma grabs a pillow and screams. This is fine.

She sits on her bed, legs crossed, very adamantly ignoring the phone beside her. This is also fine.

Right when she thinks she might pick up her phone, just to check If her messages were even that bad, she has the sneaking suspicion they were, but It wouldn’t hurt to check, her door opens.

Mackenzie enters with all the grace of a younger sibling, meaning none at all. There’s a bit of bright blue paint on the side of her face, something tells Emma her sister was doing one of her extracurricular activities.

“So,” Mackenzie begins, grinning and shutting the door behind her, “How was the dance?”

“Boring,” She elects not to mention her date getting into a fight, and being kicked out,” Where were you?”

“Around,” She waves her hand, deeming it unimportant, walking over to sit next to Emma, “Dad lecturing you for thirty minutes straight was a good distraction, so thanks for that.”

She’s glad it was helpful to someone. The entire time, she thought her Dad was going to be stern, or angry, or something. But he wasn’t. He just talked. He wasn’t as patronizing as he used to be, and that just unnerved her even more. It was relieving, but it felt strange.

“I thought he was going to yell at me, but he didn’t, is that weird? That’s weird, right?”

“He’s trying, I guess.”

“I know, it’s just.” She frowns, “It’s weird.” Emma fingers the sweater again, apparently anything reminding her of Ava is very calming.

Mackenzie follows her eyes, “Hey, where’d you get this?”

“Nowhere,” She says too quickly.

Her sister looks suspiciously, “Mason?”

“No- “

“Noah?”

“No-“

“Then who? They’re the only two people you ever talk about.”

Emma knows that technically, saying that she took Ava’s sweater wouldn’t raise any alarms, they are best friends. It’s just the context of the sweater that makes her second guess it. The way the sweater in her arms reminds her of Ava caring about her, and that reminds Emma of the realization she’s had earlier, and that means feelings and it’s too late to deal with feelings right now.

She’d like to keep her feelings to herself as long as possible, they’re new, and she isn’t sure she’s ever felt anything like this before.

“Nobody’s. I accidentally took it from the dance, I’ll return it later.”

Mackenzie doesn’t look like she believes it, but she isn’t going to push. “Okay, well, it’s a nice sweater anyway,”

“It is,” Emma says softly.

Mackenzie raises an eyebrow as she pretends not to notice.

“You have a little bit of paint on your face,” Emma notes, changing the subject.

“I do?” Mackenzie rubs her face, missing the spot entirely, “Did I get it?”

She tilts her head, “Um…”

Mackenzie stands, “I should clean this off, I don’t want dad to, uh,” She gestures around with her hands, “You know, he’s fine with it but he isn’t fine with it.”

“Yeah.” Her dad wasn’t fine with a lot of things.

Her phones chimes, Emma itches to check it, but she can show restraint, she can do it.

“Are you going to check that?” Mackenzie asks.

Emma can, in fact, not do it.

She grabs her phone a little too quickly. Her shoulders slump.

Mackenzie looks over questioningly.

“Just Mason.”

“Just Mason?” She says full of disbelief, “I thought you were in love with him, or something.”

“Or something,”

Mackenzie frowns, she looks ready to ask something, and Emma cuts her off.

“Its’s fine,” She can’t have her little sister worrying over her, it should be the other way around. “He didn’t do anything bad, or whatever, I just don’t think I like him anymore.”

Emma resolutely ignores the part of herself than knows she doesn’t like him anymore. The same part that grips her phone tightly, ignoring his messages and waiting for someone else’s.

“Okay.” Mackenzie says, she doesn’t look as concerned as she used to, but there’s still a bit of it in her eyes.

She’s hesitating a foot away from the door. The question on whether she should stay or not is written in her posture.

Emma exhales, “It’s fine,” This time it’s steadier, she raises her shoulders confidentially. “You should wash your face. There’s still paint.”

Mackenzie sighs, “I didn’t get any of it?”

She laughs, “No, I think you might have just smeared it more actually,”

“Seriously?”

“No,” She teases, laughing at Mackenzie tired glare, “But there is paint, you should clean that off.”

“Fine, whatever, “She rolls her eyes, letting out a small smile that Emma beams at in return, “But, just know, that if Mason ever does anything-“

“He didn’t!”

“But if he does!” Mackenzie cuts her off, “If he does- I have experience in graffiting cars. And Mason has a really nice car. So, if you ever want me to do anything, then-- “

“That’s so mean!” Emma covers her face in her hands as she tries not to laugh, she shouldn’t be encouraging this. “Besides the last time you did that; we ended up at the police station.”

“Psh, he could take it. They’re rich.” She waves it off, as if she was not currently planning a felony, “And, this time we just won’t get caught.”

“This is illegal and a crime, but it’s also very sweet of you, so thank you, and I love you.”

Mackenzie stumbles back, pretend disgust coloring her face, “I tell you I’d commit a crime for you, and you tell me you love me? You’re so sappy.”

“Maybe a little,” She grins, “But so are you, planning on committing crimes for me, in case I’m ever hurt? That’s sappy.”

“Gross, no.”

Emma only grins a little brighter in response.

“No.”

Even brighter.

Mackenzie’s glare grows more intense, before she huffs, crossing her arms. “Whatever, fine, maybe. But I’m going, I’m washing this off,”

Emma waves, smiling even more. Mackenzie sticks her tongue out as she leaves.

Even after Mackenzie leaves, Emma still has small smile adorning her face. Teasing her little sister is always fun. Plus, it distracts her from other things.

Things like her phone. Her phone which is dinging and lit up. Emma never has been able to stay distracted for long.

She closes her eyes, breathing in once and then twice, and then a third time just for good measure. It probably isn’t even Ava; she doesn’t know why she feels this stressed out.

She grabs the phone, blinking, it’s Ava.

The universe just might hate her.

Ava: I didn’t think you stole it haha

Ava: Besides even if I did

Ava: I was going to give it to you anyway

Ava: I thought it would look cute on you :)

Emma decides the universe does not hate her, not at all.

For a second, she wonders why the smiley face makes her feel like the sun itself, all warm and bright, then she remembers feelings. She debates screaming into a pillow for the second time that day, but then figures that Mackenzie, one room over might hear, and she decides it isn’t worth it.

As she debates on whether she should send one smiley face back or two, Emma decides that she isn’t burning with anger for Mason or Noah or whoever else anymore. She isn’t burning at all anymore, but her face does feel incredibly warm whenever she texts Ava.

--

The Monday morning after homecoming, Ava offers to pick Emma up for school. It’s been so long since that happened that Emma, understandably filled with warm-fuzzy-feelings, spends an embarrassingly long time just staring at the notification, before eventually answering with an appropriate amount of smiley faces and exclamation marks.

She stares in the mirror for longer than she usually would, smoothing down anything and everything. It’s weird feeling nervous for these things. Riding with Ava has been something she’s been doing for so long in high school, it only recently stopped, but those few weeks where they didn’t talk as much as they should’ve had, had more of an impact on her than she thought.

And now Emma has, feelings. She has very little idea what to do with them. Before when she had feelings she’d ruined one of her best friendships, the ruined another good friendship, then ruined another one.

Basically, Emma is a mess when it comes to feelings.

She sees her phone ding with a text from Ava to know she’s outside, and Emma gets increasingly more nervous, what if she ruins their friendship for the second time?

Emma shakes her head, actively trying to dislodge the nervousness from her brain.

She spots the blue sweater Ava had given her, folded delicately on her dresser, it reminds her of the night before, when things had been so warm and comfortable. She remembers right before her dad had called her inside, when they’d been so close, and the only thing Emma had been able to focus on was the pounding of her heart, or how close they were. She wonders what might have happened if her father hadn’t called her in.

This is fine, she thinks, Absolutely fine.

She grabs her phone and backpack, and resolutely goes downstairs.

She almost trips on the last step, and Emma figures it might be the world telling her she’s right to be nervous today, she ignores it.

She takes a breath before opening the door, when she see’s Ava’s car she tries to relax, but she can still feel the tense of her shoulders, and the swirling ball of nerves in her stomach. She’s nervous she’s going to do something wrong, or say something weird, or reveal these feelings that are still so new.

Emma can spot Ava, one hand on the wheel, but otherwise relaxed. She’s singing to something on the radio, the windows are closed so she can’t hear the song, but from the way Ava’s bopping her head it’s a good one.

Ava spots her too, she grins and waves, motioning for Emma to come closer. She rolls down the window, and a song that’s too loud for seven am, pops out of the car. “Come on, this is my favorite song!”

Even though the smile Ava gives her, makes her face feel dizzyingly warm, and her breath catches at the back of her throat at the idea of Ava grinning at the sight of her, Emma feels the nerves in her stomach loosen at the sight. She feels a laugh start to bubble up. She doesn’t even know why she was worried. It’s just Ava, it’s always been just Ava.

Emma finds that warm-fuzzy-romantic feelings aren’t bad when they’re Ava. In fact, she finds they’re the opposite.

 --

Taglist - @kamilahsayeet2063 @veenast @samanthadalton @sarasansone98 @thequeenkamilahsayeed

[reallifesultanas]

Portrait of Mihrimah Sultan/Mihrimah szultána portréja

Mihrimah was the most influential true-born sultana ever: she had the highest salary; she was a worthy child and descendant of her mother; she was a true charitable person who also had enormous political influence; her father’s partner and counselor for a lifetime; the only sibling ever to be an (unofficial) valide sultan to her brother; the "greatest princess" and matriarch of a dynasty ... She was a legendary persona, a unique princess.

Origin and early years

There is an amazing legend about the birth of Mihrimah Sultan. According to this, she was born on 21 March 1522, and for this reason the two mosques - built for her years later, designed by Mimar Sinan - were created so that on the princess's birthday, when the sun goes down behind the minaret of the Mihrimah Mosque in Edirnekapı, the moon just goes up between the two minarets of the other Mihrimah Mosque. An important part of the legend is that Mimar Sinan once had the opportunity to see the sultana and immediately fell in love for her. For this reason, his works of outstanding beauty and precision, the Mihrimah Mosques, are also seen as the embodiment of platonic love.

The legend is beautiful, but unfortunately not real. Mihrimah's brother, Mehmed, was born around October 1521, so Mihrimah could not be born in March 1522. Unfortunately, we do not have any evidence to know exactly when she was born. The discrepancies between the Islamic calendar and our calendar used today make it even more difficult to pinpoint. Most likely, in any case, she was born after August 1522, but definitely before 1523.

Although the date of her birth was unknown, the fact of her birth itself was distinctly extraordinary. According to tradition, if a concubine had given birth to a son, she could not return to the sultan's bed, so basically Hürrem, after giving birth to a son in the autumn of 1521, could no longer have been Sultan Suleiman's sexual partner. However, Hürrem not only returned to Suleiman’s bed, but became the sultan’s exclusive sexual partner and, after Mihrimah, she gave birth to four more children for the sultan. Hürrem had Mihrimah as her only daughter, while Suleiman already had a daughter, Raziye, who, however, died in an epidemic before Mihrimah was even born.

Mihrimah, as the only living little princess, was certainly not only the apple of her father's eye, but the light of the whole harem. She spent most of her time with her mother and governess, but they certainly also had regular contact with her family-centric grandmother, Hafsa. It was probably by this time that she began to learn the basics of embroidery from her mother. Hürrem was particularly talented in embroidery, her works being so outstanding that she sometimes sent them as gifts to the leaders of other dynasties. And Mihrimah was reportedly a great student to her mother, who mastered the technique well. In addition to her mother, her father also played an important role in her childhood. Suleiman often visited his family at the Old Palace, and from 1534 they moved together at the Topkapi Palace. From then on, Mihrimah could spend even more time near her father, whom she had regularly mesmerized with her mere existence.

Marriage and husband candidates

The marriage of imperial princesses has always been an important political tool. However, Suleiman did not make much use of this opportunity. His sisters were even married off by their father, Selim I, and after their widowhood he did not force them to marry again. He had a big amount of respect and love for the female members of his family, so he was expected to treat his daughter the same way. Suleiman, however, not only did not marry off his sisters again and again because of his kind nature, but fortunately he did not need allies what marriages could have given him. The empire was rising, the nation had never been so strong, and everyone loved him as a sultan, so simply he did not need allies by marriages.

Ttherefore, there was no particularly urgent need to marry off Mihrimah and it was not necessary to choose the future husband from among the senior and influental pashas. Thus, Suleiman could easily search for a statesman he liked, even from a lower position. Suleiman wanted a reliable, faithful husband for Mihrimah, while Hürrem would prefer a young and handsome husband. Hürrem recommended the Egyptian beylerbey to Suleiman, who was notoriously handsome and young. However, the sultan did not like the man, as he had a reputation as a womanizer, and it was rumoured that he had syphilis. Of course, many such rumors spread unfoundedly, but Suleiman did not investigate the Egyptian beylerbey, he simply rejected the idea. He had other plans. He singled out a particularly humble and trustworthy guy, who he had long known for, to Mihrimah’s side. His choosen one, Rüstem, was his personal servant for almost 10 years from 1526, after which he served as a governor for the sultan in various provinces of the empire. They were very close to each other, and Rüstem also taught the brothers of Mihrimah for a while, so the princes were well known by him. In addition, it is also likely that Mihrimah also had the opportunity to meet the pasha before, as he may have been in the same place as the sultana because of his proximity to the sultan. Eventually, of course, Hürrem was also accepted Suleiman’s husband candidate and the only question was whether Mihrimah would accept him.

Rüstem was roughly seventeen or twenty years older than Mihrimah, one of the ambassadors reported that he was not a particularly handsome guy, but was short and red-faced. So he was clearly not a teenage girl's dream, even if most sultanas had to marry much older pashas than Rüstem. Yet Mihrimah agreed to the marriage. The question arises, could she have said no at all? As a matter of fact, probably yes. She was Suleiman's favorite child, apple of his eyes, if she would had a personal and deep resentments towards Rüstem, she could have said no. But she didn't. Mihrimah was a very smart woman who stood by her mother's side since her childhood and who probably tryed to help her. She was obviously aware of the law of fratricide, that they had to do everything they could to remove Mustafa — his eldest half-brother — from their way, and with this, saving the lives of her blood-brothers. And Rüstem was a great opportunity to do so, as he had known and loved the sons of Hürrem since childhood, thus there was no question that he would side with Hürrem and Mihrimah in this bloody war. So for the sake of her brother's future, Mihrimah said yes to marriage.

Marriage and relationship with her husband

The wedding took place in 1539. Rüstem could have been around 35 at the time, while Mihrimah was 17 years old. The circumcision ceremony of Bayezid and Cihangir was held at the same time as the wedding of Mihrimah. The double ceremony eventually lasted for 15 days, during which the entire population of Istanbul shared the joy of the Sultan’s family during the festivals and feasts. Due to his position, Rüstem lived in Istanbul, so Mihrimah did not have to move far away from her parents either. That’s why Rüstem was a great choice, as neither Suleiman nor Hürrem wanted to lose their daughter. And Mihrimah, with her strong will, would certainly have manage to stay in the capital as well.

There is no question that it was not a love marriage, however, the relationship was by no means as bad as it was portrayed in the popular series. Mihrimah could at least marry a man he knew, who was a committed supporter of her brothers and was extremely loyal to her father, the Sultan. Their marriage was crowned in 1541 by the birth of their first child. Ayşe Hümaşah was the first child of Rüstem, the first grandson of Hürrem. By now, Suleiman was grandfather of at least one, as Prince Mustafa had a six-year-old daughter, but later Ayşe Hümaşah became his favorite grandchild. Mihrimah and Rüstem later — it is not known exactly when — had another child, a son, Osman. This suggests that they may have had a relatively balanced relationship, as the sultanas could have refused to have sexual intercourse with their husbands. Their fair relationship is also indicated by the fact that they had many charitable projects managed together.

The marriage of the two ended in 1561, with the death of Rüstem Pasha. However, their mutual respect is shown in the will of Rüstem. He left everything to his wife and daughter: the management of his charities was largely given to his daughter, but Mihrimah was given much similar tasks also. In addition, it was Mihrimah who completed the Rüstem Pasha Mosque, which was only half-finished at the time of Rüstem's death.

Her intrigues

According to legend, Mihrimah, with the support of her mother Hürrem, wanted to make Rüstem the next Grand Vizier, which plan was finally successfully completed. However, it would be wrong to think that only the actions of the two women led to the appointment of Rüstem. Rüstem had been the sultan's confidential man for twenty years so far, Suleiman found him worthy to be the husband of his only daughter, it was clear that the sultan himself wanted to give this position to Rüstem once. However, Mihrimah and Hürrem were not satisfied with this, but wanted Rüstem to enjoy the prerogatives that Ibrahim had previously enjoyed. The sultan, on the other hand, sharply refrained from letting anyone as close to him as he had done with Ibrahim.

One of the important cornerstones of Mihrimah and Rustem’s marriage was the multitude of common intrigues. Mihrimah was very active politically, with her husband she often was able to uccessfully convince the sultan. This was the case when, in 1542, Suleiman wanted to take the infant Hungarian king and his mother, Queen Isabella, to Istanbul as political prisoners. However, being a smart woman, Izabella knew she could get help from the sultan's daughter and wife. So she complained to Mihrimah and Hürrem about how young she was widowed, how she was left alone with her son and now even the sultan want to deprived her and her son of their throne. In addition, of course, she also sent very valuable gifts to Mihrimah and her husband. She must have mentioned her descent in her letter as well. Izabella was the daughter of the King of Poland, from whose country Hürrem Sultan came from. And this was an important link between Hürrem, Mihrimah and Izabella. Either way, Izabella persuaded Hürrem and Mihrimah, who together with Rüstem, easily persuaded the Sultan to support Izabella and her son instead of bringing them to Istanbul as prisoners. Thus it happened that János Zsigmond Szapolyai became the next king of Hungary.

However, the main task of the couple was to support the brothers of Mihrimah, especially Prince Mehmed. By 1543 it was quite clear that they wanted Mehmed to ascend the throne and the trio had done all they could for this aim. However, the early death of the prince made their situation more difficult. For a time they did not care which prince of theirs should be the next sultan, they worked only and exclusively to get rid of Prince Mustafa. It took another ten years before they were finally successful and Mustafa was executed by the Sultan. Exactly how much Mihrimah was involved in this process and what she did is unknown, as there is no evidence at all to prove the guilt of Hürrem or Mihrimah. But nonetheless, it would be naive to think that Mihrimah, who was the copy of her mother both in body and soul, would not have been involved in the struggle of her beloved mother and husband.

It seems that after Mustafa's death, the trio voted for Prince Bayezid, while the Sultan himself favored Selim. Perhaps that is why Bayezid was chosen: to balance the situation of the two princes. However, Bayezid’s nature resembled a timed bomb, so they were afraid that if he was not supported, he would raise the Sultan’s anger with a reckless act. Thus, the fact that Bayezid was supported does not clearly mean that they also wanted him to be the one sitting on the throne.

Loss of her mother

1558 brought a drastic change in Mihrimah's life. Hürrem Sultan died. Mihrimah and her mother were especially close to each other, of the known mother-daughter relationships, the two of them had the closest. Mihrimah visited Hürrem every day at Topkapi Palace, spending more time there than in her own palace. She also regularly accompanied her mother on her travels and visited her siblings together. Thus, the loss of Hürrem was certainly a great pain for Mihrimah. However, Hürrem, at the time of her death, handed over her responsibilities to her daughter, who thus had no time to mourn, she had to take immediate action to continue her mother's path. And this meant nothing more than the support of the Sultan and the protection of Prince Bayezid.

However, Mihrimah could not influence Bayezid like their mother, so she could not meke the prince to wait patiently and not annoy the sultan. Bayezid soon revolted against the sultan, and for this, according to several sources, Bayezid asked Mihrimah for money. And Mihrimah gave it to him. When the sultan realized this, he immediately questioned his daughter, who proudly replied that her mother asked her to do anything for Bayezid on her deathbed, so she was not guilty of anything. We don’t know how Suleiman reacted, but their relationship seems to have deteriorated for a while.

However, Mihrimah's support was not enough either, Bayezid failed in the decisive battle of the rebellion he fought, lost the battle and was forced to flee the battlefield. By this time, both Mihrimah and Rustem were helpless. And Rustem soon lost his life, so there was no one left to save Bayezid and his sons from execution. Bayezid was executed in 1562, and a few months later the sultan organized a huge wedding to marry off the daughters of the heir, Prince Selim, one of the daughters of the late Prince Mustafa, and the daughter of Bayezid who was at the appropriate age for marriage. Mihrimah faced her father again because of the wedding. Most sources say that it was only during the wedding preparations that Mihrimah learned that Bayezid had been executed, as by then the news had not reached Istanbul and Suleiman had ordered complete secrecy. Mihrimah, shattered and enraged by grief, found it deeply outrageous that a ceremony was being held in the empire shortly after his brother was executed. Therefore, she tried in every way possible to make the ceremony impossible, for example by forbidding anyone in the harem to have fun and show happiness. Since Mihrimah lived in the Old Palace since the death of Rustem and she probably led the harem also, her orders were accepted and there was no amusement in the harem. According to reports from the ambassadors, Suleiman was shattered and disappointed. However, upon hearing the news, Selim allegedly said, angrily, that he never loved his sister, nor her husband, nor their mother, for choosing Bayezid instead. However, the reliability of this news is in doubt, for the ambassador who wrote it deeply despised Selim.

Her relationship with her father seems to have settled over time, however, since in 1565, for example, Mihrimah persuaded her father to initiate a campaign against Malta, and she herself offered her own treasury, teasing to exhibit 400 galleys to the army. Thus, although there is no doubt that the execution of Bayezid left its mark on their relationship forever. It was probably at the end of his life that Suleiman could have his only daughter with him again.

The new era

Mihrimah lost her father in 1566 and a new world began for her with the reign of her younger brother, Selim. The relationship between the two was not the best, as Mihrimah was always on Bayezid’s side, but by this time only the two of them were alive from the family, so they chose togetherness instead of hatred. First, Mihrimah extended a helping hand to Selim when he was blackmailed and humiliated by the Janissaries before his accession to the throne. The Janissaries wanted to get their ascension fee immediately when Selim had not even ascended the throne. At that time, Selim did not have access to the imperial treasury, and it would have been too long to bring money from his own province, so Mihrimah paid the soldier's allowance for Selim to occupy the throne at all without riots. Selim did not remain ungrateful, for he made his sister the head of the Old Palace harem, and thus a de facto valide sultan.

During Selim's reign, she basically stayed in the background and spent her time on charity, construction projects instead of politics. Mihrimah has supported many construction projects, but the most famous are undoubtedly the two Mihrimah mosques, which are the most beautiful works of the imperial architect Mimar Sinan. She also supported Nurbanu's efforts to free two captured Turkish women from the French. Together, with Nurbanu’s daughters and her own daughter, they finally persuaded the Queen of France to send the women back home. Based on this, we can think that she had a good relationship with Nurbanu. There is no direct evidence of a relationship between the two women, probably it was a respectful one. However, Mihrimah’s daughter supported Nurbanu’s opponent, Safiye Haseki Sultan, which also raises the possibility that Mihrimah herself favored Safiye over Nurbanu.

The twilight of her life

Selim died in 1574 and his son Murad succeeded him to the throne. The relationship between Murad and Mihrimah is not known, but presumably a spike could have remained in Murad for Mihrimah supporting Bayezid. That is why there are those who suspect that Mihrimah lost all power during Murad's reign. In fact, this is unlikely, as Murad gave Mihrimah a salary as high as no other imperial princess has ever received in a similar situation. Mihrimah may have decided to retire by herself. With the death of Selim, she was left alone in the family, having so far lost four brothers, both parents, nephews, husband and her own son. Broken with so much pain, she probably no longer felt the urge to care with politics. Her daughter Ayşe Hümaşah, who was very active politically, continued her path.

Mihrimah died on 25 January 1578, in the Old Palace. Sultan Murad decided to bury Mihrimah next to her father, breaking the tradition that the sultans rested alone in their turbe. However, with her death, her bloodline did not disappear, as her daughter, her descendants, could be traced back to the 20th century, but presumably other family members still live today. They are the Mihrumazadelers.

Used sources: L. Peirce - Empress of the east; L. Peirce - The imperial harem;  Y. Öztuna - Kanuni Sultan Süleyman; N. Sakaoğlu - Bu Mülkün Kadın Sultanları

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Mihrimah volt a valaha élt legbefolyásosabb birodalmi szultána: övé volt a legmagasabb fizetés; méltó gyermeke és utódja volt édesanyjának; igazi jótékony személy volt, hatalmas politikai befolyással; apja társa és tanácsadója egy életen át; az egyetlen valaha volt testvér, aki nem hivatalos valide szultána lehetett öccse mellett; a "legnagyobb hercegnő" és egy dinasztia matriarchája... Egy legendás személyiség volt, soha hozzá fogható nem élt.

Származása és korai évei

Mihrimah szultána születését egy igen érdekes legenda övezi. Eszerint 1522 március 21-én született, és ezen okból kifolyólag az évekkel később neki építtetett két mecsetet Mimar Sinan, birodalmi főépítész úgy tervezte meg, hogy a hercegnő születésnapján, amikor a nap az Edirnekapıban található Mihrimah-mecset minaretje mögött lemegy, a hold az üsküdari Mihrimah-mecset két tornya között éppen akkor keljen fel. A legenda fontos része az is, hogy Mimar Sinannak egyszer alkalma nyílt meglesni a szultánát és azonnal beleszeretett. Éppen ezért, a kiemelkedő szépségű és precizitású munkáit, a Mihrimah-mecseteket a plátói szerelem megtestesüléseként is tekintik.

A legenda gyönyörű, azonban sajnos nem valós. Mihrimah bátyja, Mehmed 1521 októbere körül született, így Mihrimah matematikailag nem születhetett 1522 márciusában. Sajnos nem áll rendelkezésünkre semmi olyan bizonyíték, amely alátámasztaná, hogy pontosan mikor született a szultána. Az iszlám naptár és a ma használt naptárunk közötti eltérések tovább nehezítik a pontos meghatározást. A legvalószínűbb mindenesetre, hogy 1522 augusztusa, szeptembere körül születhetett leghamarabb, de mindenképpen 1523 előtt.

Születési ideje bár nem ismert, születésének ténye maga kifejezetten rendkívüli volt. A tradíciók szerint ha egy ágyas fiút szült, nem térhetett vissza a szultán ágyába, így elméletileg Hürrem, miután 1521 őszén fiút szült, nem lehetett volna tovább Szulejmán szultán szexuális partnere. Hürrem azonban nem csak visszatért Szulejmán ágyába, de a szultán kizárólagos szexuális partnere lett és Mihrimah után további négy gyermeket szült a szultánnak. Hürremnek Mihrimah volt az egyetlen leánygyermeke, míg Szulejmánnak volt már egy kislánya, Raziye, aki azonban Mihrimah születése előtt életét vesztette egy járvány során.

Mihrimah, mint az egyetlen élő kishercegnő minden bizonnyal nem csak édesapja, de az egész hárem szeme fénye volt. Ideje nagyrészét édesanyjával és dajkájával töltötte, ám emellett minden bizonnyal a családcentrikus nagyanyjával is rendszeres kapcsolatban álltak. Valószínűleg már ekkor elkezdte eltanulni édesanyjától a hímzés alapjait. Hürrem ugyanis különösen tehtséges volt a hímzésben, munkái olyan kiemelkedő szépségűek voltak, hogy előfordult, hogy más dinasztia fejeinek küldte őket ajándékba. Mihrimah pedig a beszámolók szerint remek diákja volt anyjának, aki remekül elsajátította a technikát. Édesanyja mellett, apja is fontos szerepet töltött be már gyermekkorában. Szulejmán gyakran látogatta családját a Régi Palotában, majd 1534-től összeköltöztek a Topkapi Palotában. Innentől kezdve Mihrimah még több időt tölthetett édesapja közelében, akit már puszta létezésével is rendszeresen levett a lábáról.

Kiházasítása és a férjjelöltek

A birodalmi hercegnők házassága mindig fontos politikai eszköz volt. Szulejmán azonban nem különösebben élt ezzel a lehetőséggel. Lánytestvéreit is még apjuk, I. Szelim házasította ki, megözvegyülésük után ő pedig nem forszírozta újra házasodásukat. Meglehetősen nagy tisztelettel és szeretettel viseltetett családja nőtagjai iránt, így várható volt, hogy egyetlen kislányával szemben is a rá jellemző alapossággal fog eljárni. Szulejmán azonban nem csak kedves természete miatt nem használta ki nőrokonait, hanem szerencséjére nem volt szüksége szövetségesekre, melyeket a házasságok jeenthettek volna neki, hiszen a birodalom szárnyalt, sose volt még ilyen erős a nemzet és őt magát is mindenki szerette.

Ilyen háttérrel tehát nem volt kifejezetten sürgős Mihrimah kiházasítása és nem volt szükséges magas beosztású pasák közül választani a férjjelöltet. Így Szulejmán nyugodtan kereshetett neki tetsző államférfit, akár alacsonyabb pozícióból is. Szulejmán megbízható, hűséges férjet akart Mihrimah számára, ezzel szemben Hürrem inkább fiatal és jóképű férjet. Hürrem az egyiptomi beglerbéget ajánlotta Szulejmánnak, aki köztudottan jóképű és ifjú volt. A szultánnak azonban nem volt kedvére a férfi, hiszen csapodár természet hírében állt, ráadásul azt terjesztették róla, hogy szifilisze van. Természetesen sok ilyen pletyka terjengett alaptalanul is, Szulejmán azonban nem vizsgáltatta ki az egyiptomi beglerbéget, egyszerűen csak elvetette az ötletet. Neki ugyanis más tervei voltak. Egy általa régóta ismert, különösen szerény és megbízható pasát szemelt ki Mihrimah oldalára. Kiszemeltje, Rüsztem pasa 1526-tól majdnem 10 évig a személyes szolgálója volt, utána pedig feltörekvő pasaként szolgálta a szultánt a birodalom különböző tartományaiban. Igen közel álltak egymáshoz, valamint Rüsztem Mihrimah testvéreit is oktatta egy ideig, így a hercegek is jól ismerték. Emellett az is valószínű, hogy Mihrimahnak is volt alkalma találkozni a pasával, hiszen az kifejezetten sok helyen ott lehetett a szultánhoz való közelsége miatt, ahol lehetősége volt látni a szultánát. Végül természetesen Hürrem is kénytelen volt elfogadni Szulejmán férjjelöltjét és már csak az volt a kérdés, hogy Mihrimah elfogadja e.

Rüsztem nagyjából tizenhét-húsz évvel volt idősebb Mihrimahnál, az egyik követ beszámolója szerint nem kifejezetten jóképű, alacsony és vörös képű férfi volt. Egyértelműen nem egy kamaszlány vágyálma volt tehát, még akkor sem ha a legtöbb szultána jóval idősebb férjet kapott maga mellé. Mihrimah mégis beleegyezett a házasságba. Felmerül a kérdés, hogy mondhatott volna egyáltalán nemet? Ami azt illeti valószínűleg igen. Ő volt Szulejmán kedvenc gyermeke, szemefénye, ha különös és mély ellenérzései lettek volna Rüsztem irányába, mondhatott volna nemet. Ám ő nem tette. Mihrimah igen okos nő volt, aki gyermekkorától kezdve édesanyja oldalán állt és valószínűleg próbálta őt segíteni. Nyilvánvalóan tisztában volt a testvérgyilkosság törvényével, azzal, hogy mindent meg kell tenniük, hogy Musztafát - legidősebb féltestvérét - eltávolítsák az útból, ezzel megmentve édestestvérei életét. Rüsztem pedig nagyszerű lehetőség volt erre, hiszen gyermekkoruktól kezdve ismerte és szerette Hürrem fiait, nem volt kérdéses, hogy Hürrem és Mihrimah oldalára fog állni ebben a vérremenő harcban. Így tehát testvérei jövője érdekében Mihrimah igent mondott a házasságra.

Házassága és viszonya férjével

Az esküvőre végül 1539-ben került sor. Rüsztem 35 körül lehetett ekkor, míg Mihrimah 17 éves volt. Hogy minél nagyobb ünnepséget kerekítsenek belőle, az esküvővel egy időben megtartották Bayezid és Cihangir herceg körülmetélési szertartását is. A dupla-ünnepség végül 15 napig tartott, melynek során Isztambul teljes lakossága osztozott a szultáni család örömében a fesztiválok és lakomák során. Rüsztem pozíciójának köszönhetően Isztambulban élt, így Mihrimahnak sem kellett szüleitől távol költözni. Rüsztem ezért is volt nagyszerű választás, hiszen sem Szulejmán, sem Hürrem nem akarta lányát elveszíteni. Mihrimah pedig erős akaratával minden bizonnyal szintén azon ügyködött volna, hogy a fővárosban maradhasson.

Nem kérdés, hogy nem szerelmi házasság köttetett, azonban a viszony korántsem volt olyan rossz, ahogy például a népszerű sorozatban ábrázolták. Mihrimah legalább olyan emberhez mehetett feleségül, akit ismert, aki elkötelezett támogatója volt testvéreinek és végletekig hűséges volt apjához, a szultánhoz. Házasságukat első gyermekük születése koronázta meg 1541-ben. Ayşe Hümaşah volt Rüsztem első gyermeke, Hürrem első unokája. Szulejmán eddigre már legalább egyszeres nagyapa volt, Musztafa hercegnek ugyanis volt már egy hat éves kislánya, azonban mégis később Ayşe Hümaşah lett kedvenc unokája. Mihrimah és Rüsztem kapcsolatából később - nem pontosan ismert mikor - született egy fiú is, Osman. Ez azt sugallja, hogy viszonylag kiegyensúlyozott kapcsolatuk lehetett, hiszen a szultánák megtagadhatták a szexuális együttlétet férjükkel. Erre utal az a tény is, hogy nagyon sok jótékony projektet közösen irányítottak.

Kettejük házassága 1561-ben, Rüsztem Pasa halálával ért véget. Kölcsönös tiszteletüket mutatja azonban Rüsztem végrendelete. Mindenét feleségére és lányára hagyta: jótékonysági szervezeteinek irányítását nagyrészt lányára, ám Mihrimahnak is jócskán jutott hasonló feladat. Emellett Mihrimah volt az, aki befejezte Rüsztem Pasa mecsetjét, amely Rüsztem halálakor még csak félkész állapotban volt.

Az intrikus szultána

A legendák szerint Mihrimah, édesanyja Hürrem támogatásával szerette volna elérni, hogy Rüsztem legyen a következő nagyvezír, mely tervüket végül sikerrel véghezvitték. Azonban téves lenne azt gondolni, hogy csak a két nő ténykedése vezetett Rüsztem kinevezéséhez. Rüsztem eddigre húsz éve volt a szultán bizalmas embere, Szulejmán méltónak találta őt egyetlen lánya kezére, egyértelmű volt, hogy a szultán maga is ezt a pozíciót egyszer Rüsztemnek akarta adni. Mihrimah és Hürrem azonban ezzel nem elégedtek meg, hanem olyan előjogokat akartak Rüsztemnek, amelyek korábban Ibrahim Pasát is megillették. A szultán viszont élesen elzárkózott attól, hogy bárkit újra olyan közel engedjen magához, mint ahogyan Ibrahimmal tette.

Mihrimah és Rüsztem házasságának egyik fontos alapköve volt a közös intrikák sokasága. Mihrimah politikailag igen aktív volt, sokszor férjével közösen sikerrel győzték meg a szultánt egy egy ügy kapcsán. Ilyen volt, amikor 1542-ben Szulejmán szerette volna Isztambulba vitetni politikai fogolyként a csecsemő magyar királyt és édesanyját, Izabella királynét. Izabella azonban okos nő lévén tudta, hogy segítséget kaphat a szultán lányától és nejétől. Elpanaszolta hát helyzetét Mihrimahnak és Hürremnek is: hogy milyen ifjan megözvegyült, egyedül maradt fiával és most még trónjától, jogától is megfosztanák. Emellett pedig természetesen igen értékes ajándékokat is küldött Mihrimah szultána és férje számára. Minden bizonnyal Izabella levelében kijátszotta származását is. Izabella ugyanis a lengyel király lánya volt, azé a lengyel királyé, akinek országából Hürrem szultána származott. Ez pedig fontos kapocs volt Hürrem, Mihrimah és Izabella között. Akárhogyan is, Izabella meggyőzte Hürremet és Mihrimaht is, akik Rüsztemmel karöltve könnyedén rávették a szultánt, hogy támogassa Izabellát és annak fiát, ahelyett, hogy fogolyként Isztambulba hozatná őket. Így lett hát, hogy Szapolyai János Zsigmond lett a Magyar Királyság következő királya.

A házaspár fő feladata azonban Mihrimah testvéreinek támogatása volt, különösen Mehmed hercegé. 1543-ig teljesen egyértelmű volt, hogy Mehmed herceget szerették volna trónra emelni és a trió ehhez mindent elkövetett. A herceg korai halála azonban megnehezítette helyzetüket. Egy ideig nem foglalkoztak azzal, hogy melyik herceg legyen az új kiszemeltjük, csak és kizárólag Musztafa herceg ellehetetlenítésén dolgoztak. Még tíz évbe telt, mire végül sikerrel jártak és Musztafát kivégeztette a szultán. Az, hogy Mihrimah pontosan mennyire és hogyan vett részt ebben a folyamatban, nem ismert, hiszen nincsenek egyáltalán olyan bizonyítékok, amelyek Hürrem vagy Mihrimah bűnösségét bizonyítanák. Ám ettől függetlenül naivitás lenne azt gondolnunk, hogy Mihrimah, aki anyja kiköpött mása volt testben és lélekben is, nem vett volna részt szeretett anyja és férje harcában.

Olybá tűnik, hogy Musztafa halála után a trió Bayezid herceg mellett tette le a voksát, míg a szultán maga Szelimet favorizálta. Talán épp ezért választották Bayezidet, hogy kiegyenlített lehessen a két herceg helyzete. Mindemellett Bayezid természete egy időzített bombához hasonlított, így félő volt, ha nem támogatják, a szultán haragját fogja kivívni egy meggondolatlan cselekedettel. Így az, hogy Bayezidet támogatták, nem jelenti egyértelműen azt, hogy a trónon is őt szerették volna látni.  

Édesanyja elvesztése

1558 drasztikus változást hozott Mihrimah életében. Hürrem szultána meghalt. Mihrimah és édesanyja különösen közel álltak egymáshoz, az ismert anya-lánya kapcsolatok közül, kettejüké volt a legszorosabb. Mihrimah minden nap meglátogatta Hürremet a Topkapi Palotában, ezzel pedig több időt töltött ott, mint saját palotájában. Emellett rendszeresen elkísérte anyját annak utazásaira és együtt látogatták meg testvéreit. Így minden bizonnyal Hürrem elvesztése hatalmas fájdalmat jelentett Mihrimah számára. Azonban Hürrem, halálakor feladatait lányára ruházta át, akinek így nem volt ideje gyászolni, azonnal akcióba kellett lépnie, hogy folytathassa édesanyja útját. Ez pedig nem jelentett mást, mint a szultán támogatását és Bayezid herceg védelmét.

Mihrimah azonban nem tudta úgy befolyásolni Bayezidet, mint édesanyjuk, így nem tudta azt sem elérni, hogy a herceg türelemmel várjon és ne bosszantsa a szultánt. Bayezid hamarosan fellázadt a szultán ellen, mely lázadáshoz több forrás szerint is Mihrimahtól kért pénzt. Mihrimah pedig adott neki. A szultán mikor rájött erre, azonnal kérdőre vonta lányát, aki annyit felelt, hogy édesanyja végakaratát teljesítette, ezért ő nem bűnös semmiben. Nem tudjuk, hogy Szulejmán hogyan reagált, de úgy tűnik viszonyuk egy időre megromlott.

Azonban Mihrimah támogatása sem volt elég, Bayezid herceg az általa szított lázadás döntő ütközetében elbukott, elvesztette a csatát és kénytelen volt elmenkülni a harctérről. Ekkor már Mihrimah és Rüsztem is tehetetlenek voltak. Rüsztem pasa pedig hamarosan életét vesztette, így nem maradt senki, aki meg menthette volna Bayezidet és fiait a kivégzéstől. 1562-ben Bayezidet kivégezték, majd néhány hónapra rá a szultán hatalmas lakodalmat szervezett, hogy kiházasítsa az örökös, Szelim herceg lányait, az elhunyt Musztafa herceg egyik lányát és Bayezid megfelelő korban lévő lányát is. Mihrimah újra szembekerült apjával az esküvő miatt. A források legtöbbje úgy írja, hogy Mihrimah csak az esküvő előkészületei során tudta meg, hogy Bayezidet kivégezték, addigra ugyanis a hírek nem érték el Isztambult, Szulejmán pedig teljes titoktartást rendelt el. Mihrimah a gyásztól összetörve és feldühödve mélységesen felháborítónak tartotta, hogy nemsokkal a testvére kivégzése után ünnepséget rendeznek a birodalomban. Ezért minden lehetséges módon igyekezett ellehetetleníteni a szertartást, így például megtiltotta, hogy a háremben bárki is mulatozzon és boldogságot mutasson. Mivel Mihrimah Rüsztem halála óta a Régi Palotában élt és valószínűleg vezette is azt, parancsai célt értek és a háremben elmaradt a mulatság. A követek beszámolói alapján Szulejmán összetört, és mérhetetlenül csalódott volt. Szelim azonban a hír hallatán állítólag feldühödve kijelentette, hogy sosem szerette nővérét, sem annak férjét sőt anyjukat sem, amiért azok Bayezidet választották helyette. Ezen hír megbízhatósága azonban kétséges, ugyanis a követ aki ezt lejegyezte mélységesen megvetette Szelim herceget.

Viszonya apjával úgy tűnik idővel mégis rendeződött, hiszen 1565-ben például Mihrimah győzködte apját, hogy kezdeményezzen hadjáratot Málta ellen, ő maga pedig saját kincstárát is felajánlotta, megígrve, hogy kiállít 400 gályát a hadsereg számára. Így tehát - bár kétségtelen hogy Bayezid kivégzése örökre nyomot hagyott kapcsolatukon - valószínűleg élete végén Szulejmán újra maga mellett tudhatta egyetlen lányát.

Az új korszak

Mihrimah 1566-ban elveszítette édesapját és egy új világ kezdődött számára öccse, Szelim uralkodásával. A két testvér viszonya nem volt felhőtlen, hiszen Mihrimah mindig Bayezid pártján állt, azonban ekkorra már csak ők ketten voltak életben a családból, ezért az összetartást választották a gyűlölködés helyett. Először Mihrimah nyújtott segítő kezet Szelimnek, amikor azt a janicsárok megzsarolták és megalázták trónralépése előtt. A janicsárok ugyanis azonnal meg akarták kapni a trónralépési jussukat, amikor Szelim még nem is lépett trónra. Ekkor Szelimnek nem volt hozzáférése a birodalmi kincstárhoz, saját tartományából pedig túl hosszú idő lett volna pénzt hozatni, így Mihrimah fizette ki a katonák jussát, hogy Szelim egyáltalán elfoglalhassa a trónt zavargások nélkül. Szelim nem maradt hálátlan, ugyanis nővérét tette meg a Régi Palota fejévé, ezzel pedig de facto valide szultánává.

Szelim uralkodása alatt alapvetően a háttérben maradt és jótékonykodással, építkezési projektekkel töltötte idejét a politika helyett. Mihrimah rengeteg építkezési projektet támogatott, ám leghíresebb kétségkívül a két Mihrimah-mecset, melyek Mimar Sinan birodalmi építész legszebb munkái. Emellett támogatta Nurbanu azon törekvését, hogy a franciáktól visszaszerezzenek két fogjul ejtett török nőt. Közösen, Nurbanu lányaival és saját lányával karöltve végül meggyőzték a francia királynét, hogy küldje haza a nőket. Ez alapján úgy gondolhatjuk, hogy Nurbanuval jó viszonyban voltak. Nincs közvetlen bizonyíték a két nő viszonyára, valószínűleg tiszteletteljes viszony állt fenn köztük. Mihrimah lánya azonban Nurbanu ellenfelét, Safiye Haseki szultánát támogatta, ami felveti azt az eshetőséget is, hogy Mihrimah maga is Safiyét favorizálta Nurbanuval szemben.

Élete alkonya

Szelim 1574-ben elhunyt és fia Murad követte a trónon. Murad és Mihrimah viszonya nem ismert ám feltehetőleg Muradban is maradthatott tüske, amiért Mihrimah Bayezidet támogatta. Épp emiatt vannak akik úgy sejtik, hogy Mihrimah minden hatalmát elvesztette Murad uralkodása alatt. Valójában ez nem valószínű, hiszen Murad olyan magas fizetést adott Mihrimahnak, amilyet soha egyetlen birodalmi hercegnő sem kapott hasonló helyzetben. Mihrimah talán maga döntött úgy, hogy visszavonul. Szelim halálával egyedül maradt a családból, eddigre elveszítette négy testvérét, mindkét szülőjét, unokaöccseit, férjét és saját fiát is. Ennyi fájdalomtól megtörve valószínűleg nem érzett már késztetést, hogy politikával foglalkozzon. Útját lánya Ayşe Hümaşah folytatta, aki politikailag igen aktív volt.

Mihrimah 1578. január 25-én hunyt el a Régi Palotában. Murad szultán úgy döntött, hogy a hagyományokat (miszerint a szultánok egyedül nyugodtak türbéjükben) megtörve, Mihrimah szultánát édesapja mellé temetteti el. Halálával azonban vérvonala nem tűnt el, hiszen lánya által, leszármazottjai a 20. századig nyomonkövethetőek voltak, ám feltehetőleg napjainkban is élnek további cslaádtagok. Ők a Mihrumazadeler-ek.

Felhasznált források: L. Peirce - Empress of the east; L. Peirce - The imperial harem;  Y. Öztuna - Kanuni Sultan Süleyman; N. Sakaoğlu - Bu Mülkün Kadın Sultanları

[ohmyjinsus]

kissing by the book

yeo one (changgu) x female! reader 

high school! au (non idol) || 8.8k (I went a little crazy whoops) 

super fluffy + some suggestive themes I guess (basically changgu in something rotten has ruined my life and I felt the need to write about it) (like,,, look at him!!) 

summary: you’ve been happily crushing on changgu from a distance for the past year, but when you get cast as romeo and juliet in your school’s spring play, it suddenly hits you how much you actually like him - oh, and you have to kiss him multiple times, so that’s fun too 

You can’t stop staring at the clock. The cast list is being released today, but you have no idea when. You checked outside the drama room as soon as you got to school, then again at lunch, but there was nothing. Now you’re dying for the bell to ring so you can check again. 

Finally, you’re free to leave your stupid last period chemistry class. You grab your bag, and run out of the room without saying bye to your friends. It takes less than 2 minutes to run across the parking lot to the other building. When you get there, no one else is around. Thank god. 

You hold your breath as you walk up to the drama room door. Your name better be at the top or else you’ll start a riot. You’ve spent the last 3 years playing supporting roles (some of them being male roles as well). This is your senior year, and if you’re not the female lead after all of this, you’ll be absolutely crushed. 

The list is there. You immediately scan it for your name, ignoring everyone else. You find yourself on the second row, cast as Juliet. All your friends’ names are there too, cast as side characters. When you finally look at the first row, your heart almost stops. 

Romeo........................... Yeo Changgu 

===

You met Changgu at some point last year, when your school did Twelfth Night. Technically, you knew him before, as you’re the same age, and he’s been in some of your classes, but you’d never actually spoken to him. He’d never taken a drama class, and he’d never been to a drama club meeting, so it seemed odd that he’d been cast as Sebastian.  

After a few weeks of rehearsal, you understood why. In addition to being a great actor, he was extremely friendly. He worked insanely hard to memorize his lines and was off book earlier than everyone else. Like you, he showed up to rehearsal 10 minutes early whenever possible. 

When you realized this, you started showing up later so you could avoid him. Although he was nice, he made you incredibly nervous. At first you thought it was because he was popular, but you soon came to realize it was because your idiotic self had a crush on him. Every interaction involved you forgetting how to speak. It’s like you lost all your brain cells every time you were in his presence. To be fair, you didn’t have many to begin with. 

Plus, everyone knows you should never date a cast mate. Not that you’d date him. Because he’d never be into you, right? 

===

“Wait, y/n, does that mean you have to kiss him?” 

“Oh my god, please stop.” You’re in your room, on FaceTime with your best friend. You haven’t even thought about that. You’re too concerned about having to speak to Changgu, never mind touching him- that’s too much for you to handle. 

“I’m just saying,” your friend takes a sip of her bubble tea, “remember the play y’all did 2 years ago where there was a kiss?” You were shocked the two students playing the leads agreed to actually do it, but then again, you’ve never kissed anyone, so what do you know? 

“I’m sure there are ways to fake it, or we can avoid it somehow.” You prop your phone up on your desk so you can go find your copy of Romeo and Juliet and look for any potential make out scenes.

“...... do you want to avoid it?” 

“No,” you say without thinking. 

“I knew you still had a crush on him. I should have joined drama club so I could see this all play out.” You roll your eyes and grab the book off your shelf. “I see the way you look at him.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

You friend puts her hand under her chin and stares off into the distance, imitating you. “Oh Changgu-”

“I’m gonna hang up on you,” you tell her, picking up your phone again. 

“Wait no!” You end the call, but text her right away, saying your mum called you down for dinner. It’s a lie, but a believable one. You just need a minute to yourself to think about this. 

It’s really not a big deal. A kiss is just a kiss. There’s a possibility Changgu might not even want to kiss you in the first place. You wouldn’t blame him. There’s no point in getting worked up about it just yet. 

But still, you flip through your copy of the play, flagging down all the potential kiss scenes. When you’re about halfway through, your phone lights up. You’ve got a new email from your director. 

Your first script reading is at the end of this week, which is good with you. That gives you enough time to read the play again and start thinking about your character. 

Then your phone lights up again. It’s another email from your director, but it’s only addressed to two people. 

Hey y/n and Changgu, 

Congrats on being cast as our leads this semester! I have no doubt you’ll both do amazing. 

As you probably already know, there are some kiss scenes in the play. I thought it might be a good idea for the three of us to meet before the script reading to talk about how that will play out. 

Ultimately, it’s up to the two of you, so discuss amongst yourselves and then tell me what you think on Friday. 

===

Your goal for the next 24 hours is to avoid Changgu and Changgu-related thoughts. You’re not going to look for him to initiate any kind of kissing conversation. He can come to you whenever he wants. 

Which happens to be as soon as you get to school the next day. You didn’t expect to see him so early in the morning. The only class you have together is chem so you assumed he would talk to you then, if at all. 

“Hey y/n,” he calls from down the hall. You try to smile like a normal person, not someone who was thinking about making out with him all night. 

“Hey,” you say awkwardly. You try to focus on stuffing your textbooks into your backpack so you don’t have to make eye contact. “What’s up?” 

“Oh,” he smiles, “I just wanted to talk to you about the play.” It might just be your imagination, but he seems as nervous as you. 

“Right, congrats on getting the lead role,” you say. “You deserve it.” 

“Same to you,” he replies. “It’s about time you were recognized for your talent.” Your brain goes blank for a second. You can’t believe he’s complimenting you. You shake the thought out of your head but you’re pretty sure you’re blushing. 

“I appreciate that.” 

“So.....” You let him trail off, praying he’ll bring it up so you don’t have to. “About the email we got yesterday....” He looks so stressed out. You bite the bullet and say it yourself. 

“The potential kissing thing.” 

“Yes!” You frown at him. He seemed way too enthusiastic about that. “I mean, yes, the kiss thing, what are your thoughts on it?” 

You take a second to think about it, because you don’t want to seem too eager. But god, for some reason he chooses this exact moment to run a hand through his hair and your poor fragile heart can’t handle that. 

“Yes.” It’s his turn to frown. He looks so adorable when he’s confused. He looks adorable all the time. You’re crushing on him way too hard. 

“Yes as in....?” 

“Yes, I’ll kiss you.” 

“Oh.” He seems shocked. 

“I mean, unless you don’t want to kiss me, which is totally valid, I completely understand, I won’t be offended.” 

He just smiles. “I’m cool with kissing you too.” 

“Right, okay, cool, awesome, great.” Your awkwardness makes him laugh, which makes you feel a little bit better. 

“Do you want me to reply to that email?” He asks. You nod. 

“I’m not good at forming coherent sentences, so I think that’s probably a good idea.” You pick up your backpack. “Good talk.” 

“Are you headed to north?” He asks. “I’ve got English over there, I can walk with you.” 

“Oh.” You try to act like you’re not internally screaming. “Yeah, sure, of course.” You start to walk towards the stairs, and he follows you. 

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y/n, it’s not like I’m about to make out with you right now.” You almost trip. “I’m just messing with you,” he says immediately, reaching out a hand to steady you. 

“You better be,” you tell him, but you’re smiling. 

“This is gonna be a fun semester,” is all he says in return. 

===

The meeting with your director only lasts 10 minutes. Changgu’s email was pretty clear, so the two of you don’t have much to say. Your director’s quite shocked you both agreed to kiss for real. 

“We talked about it a couple days ago, so we’re all good.” You nod, agreeing with Changgu. You’re glad he’s taken the lead in this conversation.

“Are you sure?” Your director asks. “Last year one of my students said no because she didn’t want her first kiss to be a stage kiss. If that’s how you feel, you can totally say no.” 

You know she’s talking to both of you, but she’s only looking at you. You wish you could sink into the floor. 

“If either of us change our mind, we’ll talk about it and let you know,” Changgu replies. If you were on your own right now, you’d probably cry out of embarrassment. 

But thanks to Changgu, everything is fine. As far as you’re concerned, he doesn’t know you’re a 17 year old loser who hasn’t had her first kiss yet. That’s a win in your books. 

“Alright,” is all she says. The two of you are dismissed and you immediately run out into the hallway. Changgu’s close behind.

“You good?” 

“Yeah,” you lie. 

Thankfully, he changes the subject. You talk about your chemistry class for a while, as you have a test coming up. There’s a practice question he got stuck on, so he asks for your opinion. The two of you sit outside the drama room comparing notes until everyone else shows up. 

The next 3 weeks are all about blocking and memorizing lines. Midterms are soon, so everyone is just struggling to get by. Your director doesn’t mention anything about your solo scenes with Changgu. You assume she knows you two are her best actors so she’s not worried. Hopefully she’ll leave it till the last minute so you don’t have to think about it. 

As for your relationship with Changgu, you’re much more comfortable around him. The first time you do the party scene and have to waltz with him, you’re incredibly anxious. It turns out Changgu has never waltzed before, so you have to walk him through the steps. Your nervousness fades as you both focus on getting the dance right. When you finally do, he’s so happy, it’s adorable. 

After that, you start talking to him more. Because you’re the leads, you’re closer with him than anyone else on the cast. You would call him your friend, but you still have that stupid crush on him. You try to forget about it, but the two of you are spending so much time together. If you’re not acting, you’re helping with other drama related things, like painting sets and finding props. 

On one of these days, you’re talking to Changgu about prom. It’s all anyone in your grade is talking about right now. Neither of you have decided if you’re going, even though all your friends are. You’re talking about how expensive the tickets are, when you notice one of your cast mates watching you from a distance. You keep talking to Changgu for a while, before heading off to check your phone. 

She walks over to you while you’re texting your mum. 

“I saw you and Changgu talking.....” she says awkwardly. You look up and smile. You have no idea where she’s going with this. “Are you two a thing?” 

You frown. “Um no, why do you ask?” 

“It just seems like you’re really close,” she says. You put your phone away and grab your water bottle. She follows you as you walk back over to Changgu. He’s getting paint to work on one of the backdrops. 

“We’re just friends,” you tell her. You know you probably don’t have a chance when it comes to Changgu. If someone else wants to go after him, you won’t stop them. He’s not yours. 

“Who’s just friends?” He asks when he sees the two of you walking over. You freeze for a second.

“You and y/n,” your cast mate says. You watch Changgu’s face to see if he’ll have any kind of reaction. He doesn’t.

“Oh, I thought that was common knowledge.” You smirk. 

“I was just wondering,” your cast mate shrugs. “You two have chemistry.” 

“Fifth period,” you respond awkwardly. She gives you a blank stare but Changgu laughs. You’re thankful he understands your stupid sense of humour. 

“Right, I’m gonna go help with props.” Once she’s gone, you take a few sips of your water, not sure what to say now that you and Changgu are alone. 

“Do people actually think we’re a couple now?” You keep drinking. “I guess we’re just really good actors.” 

“Haha, yeah.” You put your water bottle down and reach for one of the paints. He hands it to you and your hands brush for a second. You jump a little but he just smiles. It’s so annoying he has this effect on you. You’re probably going to forget all your lines after he kisses you. The entire play’s going to fall apart because you’re lowkey falling in love with him. 

“I meant to ask you,” Changgu says, breaking your thoughts. “We should run lines together.” 

“Don’t we?” During chem sometimes, you’ll sit in the back with him, helping him memorize some of them. It’s easier for him than doing it alone. That’s what he says, anyway. 

“I mean we should focus on the scenes between just me and you.” That shocks you. “We don’t have to, I just thought it might be a good idea since we’ll have to start blocking those soon.” He has a point. So far, your director’s only worked on group scenes.

“Yeah, sure,” you tell him. “That makes sense.” It’s just like rehearsal, you tell yourself. It’ll just be you two. Alone. 

“Are you free tomorrow? You have 4th period lunch, right?” You nod. “I can meet you outside north and we can sit on the bleachers. It should be quieter out there.” 

“Sure, that’s fine.” You don’t really know what to say. It’s just lunch with Changgu. It’s not a date or anything. It’s purely business, nothing else. That’s what you keep telling yourself. 

You really wish it was something else though. 

===

Changgu: I’m going to run to McDonald’s before we meet up

Changgu: can I get you anything? 😃

You try to discreetly reply to him under your desk. You’re not supposed to be on your phone during data management, but when you saw it light up you had to check. 

y/n: if you could get me an iced coffee, I’ll love you forever 🥺

The second after you send it, you realize what you’ve said. Hopefully he won’t think anything of it. You put your phone down and try to focus on your textbook, but it buzzes again. 

Changgu: anything for my juliet 😌

Changgu: do you want any food? 

This boy is going to ruin your life. You’re sure you’re blushing now, but no one’s paying attention to you, thank god. 

y/n: I’m good but I appreciate your kind offer 

Changgu: if you say so 

Changgu: you can always have some of my fries if you change your mind 

“Aw,” you say out loud. Your best friend, sitting next to you, gives you a weird look, but you ignore her. 

Changgu: I’ll see you in like half an hour 

You send him a thumbs up emoji and put your phone face down on your desk. No Changgu thoughts for the rest of this period. 

When class is over, your best friend asks if you’ll have lunch with her. You lie and say you have some English homework to work on in the library. Thankfully she doesn’t question you. You’ll tell her about what happens with Changgu afterwards anyway. You don’t want to make a big deal of it just yet. 

When you get to the bleachers, Changgu’s already there, script in hand. He’s got two iced coffees next to him. He hands you one when you sit down.

“Thank you,” you chug about half of it. “I needed that.” 

“Clearly.” He takes a sip of his own drink. “How was your morning?” He offers you some fries, so you take a handful. 

“It was okay,” you tell him. You’re confused as to why he’s making conversation with you. Your lunch break is only 45 minutes long. You figured he’d just want to rehearse for a while and leave. You won’t complain if he wants to spend all his time with you, you’re just shocked. “How about you?” 

“Not too bad.” He hands his script to you. “I think I finally have the last monologue memorized.” 

“Let’s hear it then.” You grab a pen out of your backpack. 

“Are you gonna take notes?” You nod. 

“Don’t you want feedback?” 

“Of course,” he says. “You’re just making me nervous.” You laugh at the irony. 

“You’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Go on.” 

He runs a hand through his hair and you temporarily lose your focus. When he starts talking, you’re snapped back to reality. 

You underline some parts where he should slow down, and star some areas where he needs to work on facial expressions. About halfway through, you put your pen down and just listen to him. 

When he notices, he stops. “What happened? Was I that bad?” You shake your head. 

“You’re doing great,” you say. “I just like watching you.” He blushes at that. 

You read him the last line he did, and he keeps going. He really is a good actor. You already knew that, but sitting here, just the two of you, makes you appreciate his talent even more. 

When he gets to the end, he picks up his iced coffee, pretending it’s poison. “Here’s to my love,” he says, taking a sip. You can’t help but laugh. He breaks character and laughs with you. “What are your thoughts?” 

“That last bit was amazing, please do that during the real thing.” You glance down at the script and your notes. As you scan the page, you realize he left out the last two lines. Thus with a kiss I die is where your eyes land. 

“y/n?” You look back up at him and smile. 

“Sorry.” You go through all your comments, making sure to praise him at certain parts too. When his eyes light up, you start to feel nervous again. That monologue was just a reminder that you’ll have to kiss him soon, and that thought alone gives you so much anxiety. 

“Your turn,” he says, taking the script from you. “Wait, where’s your copy?” 

“Lemme get it.” You open your bag but you can’t stop thinking about the kiss. Once you get the script, you sit back up and face him. He reaches for it but you don’t hand it to him. 

“What?” You hesitate for a second. You could just keep running lines with him and try to forget about it. Or you could tell him what’s on your mind so you don’t have to keep worrying about what he’s going to say. “y/n, what’s wrong?” 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Anything.” You look into his eyes and he looks so genuinely concerned. Up until now you thought this was just a crush, but in this moment, you’re convinced you’re going to fall in love with him. 

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” You’re scared to look at him. He probably thinks you’re a complete loser. When you open your eyes, he doesn’t look disgusted, which is a good start. 

“Okay.” You frown. “What’s wrong with that?” If he was anyone else, you would think they’re teasing you, but you can tell he genuinely doesn’t mind. 

“I just thought it might be weird.” 

“It’s not weird.” He finishes his iced coffee and puts the empty cup next to his backpack. “I’m just surprised you’re cool with me being your first kiss.” 

“Are you joking?” You say without thinking. He looks confused now. Surely he knows you have a crush on him. “You’re so nice, and talented, and thoughtful, and cute, and I’m just really glad to have you as a....“ You hesitate for a second, not sure if you should call him your friend. He doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence. 

“You think I’m cute?” He’s smiling at you. 

“Shut up.” You go to hit him with your script, but he grabs your hand before you can.

“I have an idea.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” It’s your turn to be confused now. 

“Do you want your first kiss to be a stage kiss?” He asks. 

“I already told you, I don’t really mind.” 

“No,” he says. “I mean, do you want it to be us in front of the entire cast kissing for the first time during rehearsal?” 

“What other option is there?” 

“I could kiss you now.” You pull your hand away from him. “I’m being serious y/n.” You take a sip of your iced coffee so you can think for a second. “You said you want your first kiss to be me, right?” 

“Want isn’t the word I would use but yes, okay.” He smiles at that. 

“And we’re going to have to kiss each other quite a lot, yes?” 

“Probably.” You’re blushing at this point. You suddenly become aware of how little space there is between the two of you. It would be so easy for him to just lean in- 

“So why not get the first time over with?” You gasp, which makes him laugh. “I just mean.....” he trails off. 

“You just mean what, Changgu?” You know he’s being considerate and genuine, but there’s still a small part of you that thinks he might be messing with you. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You swear your heart almost stops, but you nod anyway, leaning into him. He meets you halfway, and you close your eyes. You’re expecting a split second peck, but he gently presses his lips to yours. It’s clear he doesn’t want to push your boundaries. When you part your lips slightly, he deepens the kiss. That catches you off guard. He must sense it, because he pulls away. 

“Was that okay?” He whispers. You can’t stop yourself from grinning. You wish you could kiss him again, right now. 

“It was more than okay.” He laughs and kisses your cheek. That surprises you. 

“Sorry,” he says. “You’re just really cute.” 

“What?” Your eyes go wide. He’s definitely blushing now. This boy just kissed you, on the bleachers, in broad daylight, without second thought. But he’s blushing because he said you’re cute. 

He ignores you and glances at his phone. “We have 5 minutes before chem, should we head over?” 

“What is happening?” You say quietly. He smirks and puts his script back into his bag. You just sit and watch in shock. 

He thinks you’re cute. Yeo Changgu thinks you’re cute. And he kissed you. What the hell? 

“Let’s go.” He hands you your pen from earlier. 

“Right.” You take it from him and throw it in your bag. You don’t know how you manage to stand up and follow him to class, but somehow, you do. 

When you get to your class, he sits with his friends and you find yours. They ask how your lunch break was and where you got off to. You tell them the same lie from earlier. 

You can’t stop thinking about Changgu for the rest of the day. You were into him to begin with, but now you’ve definitely fallen. You really hope it’s the same for him. 

===

“He kissed you?” You were afraid your best friend would be mad at you for not telling her about your lunch date earlier, but she’s just as confused as you. You called her the second you got home so you two could figure out what the hell Changgu’s thinking. 

“Twice.” 

“Oh my god y/n, he definitely likes you.” 

“What?” You suspect it too, but it’s nice to know she has the same idea. 

“He literally asked if he could kiss you, obviously he wanted to.” 

“Perhaps you have a point...” You avoid looking at her. “He sent me a text a little while ago.” 

“What does it say?” 

“I’ll send you a screenshot.” You put the call on hold for a second so you can go to your messages. Your response was kind of lame, and you know she’ll call you out on it, but you send her the picture anyway. 

“y/n,” your friend says as soon as you resume the call. “Let me know when you want to rehearse our scenes again, smiley face.” 

“He’s just being nice.” 

“No he’s not, he’s looking for an excuse to be alone with you again.” 

“You honestly think he likes me?” You ask quietly. 

“I do.” She looks at the screenshot again. “He was clearly flirting with you earlier as well, anything for my juliet, I get why you’re so into him.” 

You roll your eyes. “I really, really like him,” you tell her. “I don’t want to mess this up.” 

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing, cause it seems like he’s into it,“ she says. “But you have to make a move at some point.” 

“Easier said than done.” 

“Don’t be such a wimp.” She says. “You’ve liked him for how long? And we’re graduating soon anyway, if he rejects you, you don’t have to see him again.” 

“True,” you say, “but I’m not asking him out anytime soon.” 

“Let me know how that works out for you.” You roll your eyes, but you’re grateful she’s willing to give you advice. If you didn’t have her you’d be googling things like how to get someone to fall in love with you, which would just be sad. 

You can do this, you tell yourself. Changgu obviously likes you to some extent, all you have to do is make him fall for you and then you’ll be set. You’ve got this. 

===

It’s 2 weeks until opening night, and you and Changgu are doing amazing. Since your kiss on the bleachers, you’ve stopped avoiding him all the time. In fact, you’d say you initiate about half of your conversations with him now.

He seems down in rehearsal one day, so you text him when you get home, to make sure everything is okay. He admits he’s not totally confident in his acting skills, especially compared to you. That surprises you, but you tell him that you sometimes feel the same way, but it’s not something to be too worried about. You remind him you’re in this together, which makes him feel significantly better. Before you know it, it’s 3am and you’re both still talking to each other. This becomes your new normal.  

You’re seeing Changgu in chem and during rehearsal, but you spend your time coming home thinking about what you could say to him next. Normally by the time you think of something, you already have a message from him. He understands your sense of humour, and before you know it, the two of you have tons of inside jokes. Even if you can’t think of something to say, you’re able to find the perfect meme to send him instead. Your crush on him has grown exponentially in the month and a half you’ve been in this play together. You feel like it might be the same for him. 

It seems like other people are picking up on it too. The first time Changgu kisses you in front of everyone, they’re shocked with how comfortable you are with each other. Someone jokes that this probably isn’t the first time you’ve kissed but you both laugh awkwardly and change the subject. 

Originally, your director had quite a few kissing scenes, but she decides it’s overkill after a couple of run throughs. 

“This is too steamy for Shakespeare,” she tells you one day. 

“We’re not making out,” you say, trying not to blush. You and Changgu have probably kissed onstage over 100 times, but it still makes you feel a certain way if you think about it for too long. 

“I can feel the passion between the two of you, you may as well be.” You make a shocked face at Changgu, who’s standing a couple metres away, also listening to this conversation. That makes him laugh. 

“If you say so.” 

She changes some of the scenes to Changgu kissing your hand, or you holding his, just to make it less affectionate. She’s constantly reminding you Romeo and Juliet were children, which makes you both cringe. 

You thought your favourite scene would be the one where Romeo and Juliet first meet, but it’s not. You prefer the second act, where Romeo monologues and you sit outside on the balcony. It gives you the wonderful opportunity to sit and listen to Changgu speak. Even if he is acting, you feel like there’s some sort of truth in his words. You got so distracted during the first full run through that you forgot your lines. Someone offstage had to prompt you, which was insanely embarrassing. Thankfully Changgu wasn’t phased, he just went back and started his monologue again. You made an active effort to focus this time, and you were okay after that. 

Although Changgu has his lines down perfectly, he still asks you to run them with him during chemistry since the two of you are always done your coursework so early. You’re starting to think your best friend might be right, and that he does just want to spend time with you. After rehearsal one day, you decide to shoot your shot. 

“Changgu,” you say, walking over to where he’s putting some props away backstage. “Do you wanna maybe meet up tomorrow and we can like, work on lines or blocking or waltzing or all of the above or something.” It all comes out in a jumbled mess because you’re speaking so fast. You should’ve texted him and asked instead of doing it in person. 

“I’m gonna need you to say that again,” he says, with a smile on his face. You take a deep breath. 

“I was asking if you want to run lines again tomorrow,” you look into his eyes. “Just me and you.” 

You might be imagining it, but it seems like he’s flustered. “Oh, yeah, sure.” 

“We don’t have to-”

“No, I want to.” Your heart rate’s definitely gone up now. “Bleachers?” 

You shake your head. “Come here,” you gesture around you. “It’ll be empty at lunch.” 

“Sure,” he says, glancing at his phone. His smile fades. “I’m so sorry, I gotta go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“For sure,” you say. “See you then.” 

===

You get to the theatre before Changgu the next day, which makes you panic for a second. He’s not the kind of guy who would ditch you like that, but you’re still scared. Until you check your phone and see a message saying he’s running a little late. 

You take the opportunity to practice some of your monologues alone. You know your lines and you can do them fine when you’re with the rest of the cast, but for some reason, when you’re on your own, your flow gets so messed up. You pace around the stage, saying your lines to yourself, practicing your intonation. Your hand’s moving up and down as you figure out the rise and fall of each sentence. 

You’re so caught up in yourself that you’re startled when you notice Changgu sitting in the front row, eating candy. 

“Jesus Christ,” you say, jumping off the stage. “How long have you been here?” 

“Only a couple of minutes,” he reaches into his bag and pulls out a box of Smarties. You take it from him. 

“Let’s go,” you say, after you pop a couple in your mouth. You keep eating them as you walk up the stairs to the stage. 

Once you’re both onstage, you run through your major scenes together. You skip over the monologues because you only have about 20 minutes before chemistry. 

When Changgu goes in for the kiss during the party scene, you turn your head so he winds up kissing your cheek instead. 

“What was that for?” He asks, breaking character. You point at the clock on the wall. 

“5 minutes till class.” You head over to the stairs at the side of the stage so you can get your backpack, but Changgu grabs your hand.

“Wait.” You turn around and hold his gaze. “Skip chem and stay here.” You’ve held his hand so many times over the past month, you interlock your fingers without second thought. It’s just a habit at this point. 

“What?” You’re surprised he’s willing to skip class just to stay with you a little longer. You’re more than happy to, but you just need a moment for this to sink in. 

“We don’t have a test, we aren’t going to miss anything important,” he says. “Even if we do, we’re the smartest people in that class, we’ll be fine.” 

“You’re not wrong.” 

“So stay with me a little bit longer.” You nod, because you don’t trust yourself to form a coherent sentence right now. 

You follow him to the centre of the stage, where he just sits down on the floor. You don’t question it and sit down next to him, facing the empty auditorium. You can’t believe this is your last time performing on this stage. 

“What are you thinking about?” Changgu asks. He’s still holding your hand, and he kisses the back of it. You’re so thrown off by how affectionate he’s being right now. But you aren’t complaining. “You seem like you’re deep in thought.” 

“I just can’t believe this is my last show here,” you reply. “I’ve spent four years on this stage, it feels weird having to leave.” 

“You’re going out on a good note,” he says. You nod in agreement. 

“I’m excited,” you tell him. “Opening night is always fun.” 

“Is it?” He doesn’t seem too sure. “I find it more nerve wracking than anything.” 

You gasp. “Don’t tell me Yeo Changgu gets stage fright.” 

“I don’t,” he says immediately. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone, you know?” 

“You don’t, and you won’t.” You bump your shoulder against his. “Everyone loves you.” 

“Do you love me?” You can’t tell if he’s joking. You decide to answer honestly. 

“I definitely like you, if that counts for anything.” 

“It counts for a lot.” He pulls his hand away from yours and you let out a small gasp, sad he’s moving away. He laughs at that but turns around. When Changgu lies down with his head in your lap, you’re even more caught off guard. You don’t know what he’s playing at anymore, but this almost feels natural for the two of you. You’re not uncomfortable, just surprised. 

“Is this okay?” He asks. When you say yes, he smiles. “So tell me more y/n, what’s this about liking me?” 

You roll your eyes. “I wish I never said anything.” 

“No, you don’t.” You look down at him. You’re about 80% sure he likes you back. All the late night texts, and inside jokes, and the way he’s looking at you right now makes it seem like he does anyway. 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Good.” 

“Is it?” You frown. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Cause I like you too.” 

“Don’t play with me.” 

“I’m not!” He says right away. “I swear I’m being serious.” He seems genuinely concerned that you don’t believe him, which is incredibly cute. 

“Tell me more then, when did you know?” 

“Second rehearsal, I think. I mean I’ve kind of liked you since Twelfth Night, but recently I’ve been like really crushing on you.” You’re surprised at how quickly he answers. “Right before second rehearsal, you were just outside here, running lines like you were earlier today.” 

“What’s so special about that?” You absentmindedly start playing with his hair, which makes him jump. You move your hand away as quickly as possible. 

“No, it’s okay,” he says quietly. You run your fingers through his hair again, slowly this time. The sigh he lets out has your mind wandering to dangerous places. 

“Anyway,” he breaks your thoughts. “You know that thing you do with your hand, while you’re speaking, to try and get the flow of your speech right?” 

“Uh, yeah.” You don’t know where he’s going with this. 

“You kind of look like you’re conducting an orchestra or something.” You still don’t understand what about that makes him like you. When you look down and make eye contact with him again, he’s smiling up at you in such a cute way that you have to look away immediately. You’re scared you might do something dumb, like kiss him. Which wouldn’t really work in this scenario anyway since you’d have to bend down weirdly, it’s just not worth it. You keep playing with his hair instead. “And when you get a line wrong, you don’t get flustered the way I do. You just laugh and move on.” 

“Well, yeah,” you shrug, “what’s the point in getting upset?” 

“I wish I had that sort of mindset. Do you know how great you are, y/n?” You can’t help blushing at that. “And you’re ridiculously cute.” 

“Says you,” you mutter. He sits up and turns around so he can face you. “What are you doing?” He’s so close to you, it makes you slightly anxious. 

“I just want to look at you,” he says. His eyes are completely focused on yours but you’re not scared. You just don’t know what to say. So naturally you wind up saying something stupid. 

“Shut up.” He doesn’t even blink.

“Make me.” 

You know he wants to kiss you, and you definitely want to kiss him, but you’re still hesitant. You lean into him slightly, letting him make the next move. He gives you a quick kiss and then pulls away. But then he does it again, and again. You keep waiting for him to kiss you properly, but he won’t stop teasing you. 

“Changgu,” you whine after he pulls away for the 5th time. 

“What?” He laughs. You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you. He’s surprised at first, but then his arm’s around you and you melt into his touch. 

You give him a light kiss, and finally, he gives you want you want. His other hand makes its way into your hair to hold you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as he places kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You can’t help but let out a small moan. He pulls back for a second, looking shocked. 

“Sorry,” you say awkwardly. He smirks. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he whispers. When he kisses you again, you smile. 

You have no idea how much time has gone by when you two finally separate. He rests his forehead against yours, while you try to slow your heart rate down. This boy’s going to be the death of you. 

“Was that okay?” He asks, quietly. He sounds a little scared, like he doesn’t want to push you too far. You appreciate that more than he could know. 

“So good,” you murmur, opening your eyes. You give him another quick kiss before you sit back, putting some space between the two of you. Otherwise, you won’t let go of him. He doesn’t seem to care, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer the second you move away. 

“Thank god,” he says. You take his hand and place it flat against your chest so he can feel how fast your heart is beating. 

“You’re not good for my health,” you tell him. He just smiles and moves your hand to his chest. His heart’s beating just as fast as yours. 

“The feeling’s mutual.” You laugh at that. 

“You have to be careful though,” you tell him, “you can’t start kissing me like that onstage. I’ll forget all my lines.” 

He smirks. “Don’t worry, I’ll save it for when we’re alone.” Your jaw drops. “Do I really make you that flustered?” You nod, as his hand finds it’s way into your hair again. 

“It’s not my fault,” you reply, avoiding eye contact, “you’re the one who doesn’t kiss by the book, Romeo.” 

“I’m not Romeo right now,” he says, quietly, turning your head to look at him. “I’m Changgu, and I’m absolutely crazy about you.” 

“I feel like this is fever dream.” He laughs at that. 

“Why?” 

“I like you so, so, so much,” you tell him. “I have for a long time.” 

“Sorry it took me so long to clue in.” 

“Damn right, you should be sorry.” You both laugh at that. 

Suddenly, the bell rings and you jump away from each other. When you glance at the clock, you notice it’s only 5 more minutes until rehearsal starts. 

“We need to get ourselves together,” you say, getting up. You pull Changgu up with you and head towards your backpacks. 

“Don’t you think you should let go of my hand?” He asks. You let go of him immediately, not sure what that means. “I just don’t want to be awkward in front of other people.” He says, running a hand through his hair. You just nod because he kind of has a point. You can’t think about it too much right now, you need to focus on the play. 

While you’re getting your script out and fixing your hair, everyone else shows up. You all go through the play start to finish one time, and it’s close to perfect. When you’re finished, everyone sits in a circle onstage. You wind up next to Changgu, of course. 

Your director gives out notes while you try to forget you were making out with him in the same spot just a while ago. You nervously fidget with your hair, which winds up in you accidentally touching your neck, and then you start thinking about Changgu’s lips there-

“y/n,” his voice says from next to you. Your eyes snap open, you hadn’t even realized you closed them. 

“What?” You give him a dirty look. Does he know you got distracted because of him? 

“Did you hear that?” He points to your director, who’s looking at you expectantly, just like everyone else in your cast. You try hard not to blush. 

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” You punch Changgu in the arm, which just makes him roll his eyes. Your director notices, but she doesn’t say anything. 

Once you’re done with that, the entire cast gets lectured on how the next week’s going to go down. All of you are insanely tired already, you’re scared as to what you’ll be like in a couple of days. 

When you glance beside you, you notice Changgu yawning. He was taking notes but it seems like he’s given up at this point, throwing his pen and script to the side. You move closer to him, and take them both so you can keep up with everything your director’s saying. You don’t want either of you to miss anything. 

He smiles and mouths “thanks” when he notices. You’re writing down final reminders when Changgu’s head winds up on your shoulder. You and your cast mate across the room make eye contact. He frowns at you and you immediately look away, trying to ignore how close Changgu is to you right now.

When you put the pen down, Changgu immediately takes your hand. You don’t fight him, but it makes you smile. You’re definitely going to tease him about this later. 

When you’re finally done, Changgu gets up and takes his script back from you. He promises to send you pictures of it later. You’re okay with that because it gives him a reason to keep talking to you. 

That night, you’re lying in bed, trying to go to sleep when it hits that you have no idea where you stand with him. Are you a couple now? Are you still friends? You’ve never dated anyone before so you don’t know how this works. 

You think about it some more, but you don’t want to get distracted so soon before opening night. You tell yourself you’ll confront him about it after the show’s over. You don’t want to make things complicated now. 

===

Opening night is so much better than you could have imagined. The entire cast was perfect, everyone’s performance was amazing, you had so much fun. When the play was over, your family gave you the biggest hugs. They complimented Changgu on his performance too, which made him blush. 

The rest of the shows are also great. As much as you enjoy being onstage, the rush of getting ready beforehand is even better. You take it upon yourself to do Changgu’s makeup, which winds up in him flirting with you and you kissing him when no one’s looking just to shut him up. 

Your last night is the best night. All of you put so much work into this show, and it truly pays off. When you do your curtain call next to Changgu, neither of you can stop smiling. There’s no way you could’ve done the show without him. 

When the curtains close, he pulls you in for a hug. The fact that you’re ending high school with a bang, and you’re in the arms of the boy you’ve had a crush on for so long makes you think you’ve never been so happy in your life. 

Once the entire cast has changed back into their day clothes, you pile into your friends’ cars to drive to Pizza Hut. Your director promised to buy you all dinner when you were finally finished the production. 

You and Changgu split up and go in different cars. On the way, all your friends ask if you two are dating. You tell them no of course not, but they don’t believe you. It feels nice to have a kind of boyfriend. You still need to figure that out. But for now, you just want to enjoy the night with your friends. 

When you get to the restaurant, you all sit down at the biggest table they have. It’s almost 9:30, so it’s pretty empty, thankfully. 

The group orders tons of pizza and drinks, and you all reminisce while eating. It’s bittersweet for you. A lot of the younger cast mates tell you how much they’ll miss you and what an awesome job you did. You’d probably cry if you weren’t still wearing your stage makeup. 

After you eat, everyone argues over what to get for dessert. You’re sitting back, laughing, when Changgu makes eye contact with you from across the table. He smiles and gestures to his phone. You take yours out of your bag and there’s a text from him. 

Changgu: come outside with me 

You look back up at him but he’s already standing up and walking towards the door. You tell your friend you’ll be back and follow him. 

The air outside is a little cool but it’s a nice feeling after being cramped inside with so many people. 

You look to your left and Changgu’s sitting on a bench there. You sit down cross legged, facing him. 

“Why did you ask me to come out here?” 

“I wanted to be alone with you for a minute.” He absentmindedly takes your hand. 

“Well, we’re alone.” You’re starting to get scared now. What if he tells you he doesn’t want a relationship and everything that happened between you two was just for the play? You don’t know what you’ll do if that happens. A chill rushes through you and you shudder. 

“Are you cold?” Changgu asks, right away, moving closer to you. You shake your head, but he takes off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders anyway. 

“Why are you being so romantic right now?” You stick your arms through the sleeves. The jacket smells like him, which makes you feel some type of way. You wish you could keep it forever. “You can drop the act, Romeo.” 

“I just want everyone inside to know you’re mine.” That takes a second for your brain to process. 

“Yours?” 

“I mean,” he looks nervous. “If you want to be.” 

“Are you dumb?” He looks really scared now, which makes you smile. “Of course I do.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. You’ve kissed tons of times, but this feels different. Good different. When he pulls away, he kisses your forehead. You can’t stop smiling. 

“Wait,” you say, leaning back a little. Your arms are still wrapped around him. He frowns. “Are you my boyfriend now?” 

“Um, yes?” 

“Oh my god,” you say to yourself. “I can’t believe it.” That makes him laugh. 

“My girlfriend’s so cute.” Hearing him say that feels almost euphoric. 

“You’re such a dork.” 

“I,” he kisses you. “Yeo Changgu,” he kisses you again. “Am all,” another kiss. “Yours.” 

You genuinely can’t stop smiling, you don’t even have words. You just look at him in awe. 

“Wait,” he says, wiping the side of your mouth with his thumb. “I messed up your lipstick, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “It won’t be the last time.” It’s his turn to blush. You pick up your phone to check your reflection. You look fine, thankfully. 

“We should go back inside, shouldn’t we?” He asks. 

“I don’t want to.” 

“Me neither.” That makes you laugh, but you get up anyway. 

He takes your hand as you both walk back into the restaurant. No one’s noticed you left, and no one notices when you two sit down beside each other. 

You all eat dessert, and then your director makes a nice little speech about how well you all did and how proud she is of you. 

She’s sitting down, when you stand up. You don’t even know why. Everyone seems kind of surprised. 

“Sorry,” you say. “I wanted to say something too.” You glance at Changgu, who’s smiling at you. He takes your hand, which gives you some courage. 

“Go ahead, y/n.” 

“As you all know, this is my last show with you. It’s been so exciting, and I can’t think of a better way to end my high school career. Theatre has connected me with so many amazing people,” Changgu squeezes your hand, which flusters you a little bit. “I’m just really grateful to have met you all and I’m going to miss you like hell.” 

Everyone claps and raises their glasses for you, which makes you roll your eyes a bit, but you appreciate it anyway. You’re about to sit down when you suddenly remember. 

“Wait!” Everyone looks at you again. “One more thing.” 

You sit down next to Changgu and pull him in for a kiss in front of everyone. There are some gasps, lots of people saying they knew it, some people clap for the two of you. Changgu kisses your cheek before the two of you let go of each other. 

“We saw you making out outside earlier,” someone next to you says. You and Changgu both make shocked faces at each other. 

“We all knew it would happen,” says someone else. 

“I’m so confused,” one of the freshman at the other end of the table says. “Changgu and y/n? That makes no sense.” 

His friend sitting next to him smacks him, which makes you all laugh. 

All in all, everyone’s insanely happy for you, and you’re incredibly thankful. 

Although you’re sad your last high school play has come to an end, it’s okay. You made the most of your time, and things ended on an amazing note. 

As for Changgu, you know you have so much more to do with him. You’ll go to prom, graduate, spend the entire summer together, go on cute dates, and kiss him again and again and again. 

But for now, holding his hand under the table, surrounded by some of your closest friends, laughing and having fun - that’s more than enough for you. 

[alyss-not-cis]

My Oppression as a Pansexual

Hi there! My name is Alyss, I'm a bigender pansexual, and I'm a Christian.

Being a Christian, my family is extremely conservative. Like, Ben Shapiro conservative.

I was adopted when I was 10, and started homeschooling in a Christian community when I was 11 because I was being bullied in my public school. During that time, I was undergoing a lot of depression and guilt because I realized I started liking girls (this was before I identified as bigender).

In our community, homosexual acts and feelings are considered demonic, as well as mental health issues. I was struggling with both, and became overwhelmingly suicidal because of that guilt. I attempted suicide twice at the age of 11 and my parents never did anything to help me. I was terrified of coming out to them about my feelings towards other girls, so only tried to talk to them about my mental health. They believed that there was a spiritual problem with me, and instead of taking me to a therapist or looking more into the problem, they had family pray over me.

I felt like the black sheep of the family, and stayed in the closet battling my sexuality for years after. Then, when I was 14, I accepted my sexuality as bisexual. I had a few flings with both men and women in the Christian community, and tried to help as many people in the LGBTQ+ Christian community as possible because I had also endured their feelings. Then, at the age of 15, I started my sophmore year in a Christian highschool.

In this highschool, you don't celebrate Halloween, you can't show your knees or shoulders, baseball caps are a sin, etc. I had found a group of LGBTQ+ allys and members in the school and we became amazing friends until my senior year. I had switched my label to pansexual because I had a small relationship with a nonbinary on Instagram (who is still one of the nicest people I have ever met), and had a few fellow bigender partners. By this time, I was at the beginning of my senior year and a lot of people in the school knew I was pansexual.

The school had a VERY strict rule against LGBTQ+ to where you weren't even allowed to talk about it without receiving academic probation. The second quarter of that year, I had a failing grade in Chemistry, so my mother and I were called into a meeting with the school's director and my chemistry teacher. I had already been through this process before, but I had a terrible amount of disrespect for this chemistry teacher. Not only did she make the class about politics (not chemistry, which is what we were PAYING for), but she made extremely offensive comments about the LGBTQ+ community in the class (I was the only student in the class who wasn't straight, and almost everyone in that class knew except for her).

During the meeting, the director had decided to bring up a couple of complaints she had heard about me. One was the fact that I came to school in a onesie (it had footies that were against school policy), and I had worn "dark" make up. Then the last was that I was claiming I was pansexual.

I thought my heart had stopped, and my face went pale. Neither of my parents knew I was pansexual, and now I was being outed at my school in front of my mother and homophobic chemistry teacher.

The next half hour was spent listening to lectures about how I was giving a bad influence to the younger, more impressionable kids at the school and that I needed to seek help. My mom tried to defend me, saying "Well, I'm sure she didn't mean what she said. Right?" And she looked at me. I said no. I meant what I said, and you know what? I was proud of it.

I had to sign an agreement saying I was on academic probation for breaking the rules for the next coming quarter. I was crying my eyes out the whole day, sobbing my eyes out in front of anybody and everybody (making my one-on-one tutoring session VERY uncomfortable for my pre-calc teacher). My parents had now found out I was pansexual.

That night, I had sent out a text to my group of friends about what had happened, trying to seek comfort. They were incredibly supportive, yet very hostile towards the director. I had laughed it off as a joke, and sent a text saying "Put the snitch in a ditch." A very immature comment, and I do agree that I shouldn't have said that.

The next morning, my mother had received a phone call from a detective saying I was under investigation for death threats against the director. I was immediately expelled breaking the probation by saying I was pansexual. All of my friends in that group chat were also expelled and under investigation.

I'm now not allowed to speak to any of them, and was forced to tell my parents I was straight because I was about to be kicked out. I'm now paying for my own education to complete my senior year and have lost connection to almost every person I was once friends with.

My point here is; being a part of LGBTQ+ in a Christian community as a minor is terrifying. I'd heard of many coming out horror stories from people I was close to, and hated seeing them suffering like I did.

I do consider myself a Christian, but you can be a Christian and not be this hateful.

The Bible says "You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others?" Matthew 5:43-48.

Even if we, as members of LGBTQ+, are enemies to these conservative extremists, this behavior is unbiblical. The comment I made in the group chat was hateful, and I repent of my actions. I never should have said that, and I have learned from my mistakes. With that being said, it doesn't excuse the efforts of this school. I still love the people there, and am willing to treat them with respect, but I am not going to ignore discrimination.

My parents have even more oppressive. Whenever I'm around, they throw slurs at homosexuals on T.V., and they make fun of me openly behind my back in front of my younger brothers. They even accidentally sent a message in a group chat that I was in, making fun of the fact that I supported trans rights. And when they found out I could see those messages, they said they were entitled to what they said because it's "unnatural" and my feelings didn't matter.

This past week has been the worst so far with their homophobic and transphobic comments, it's gotten to the point where I can't even wear a hat backwards without my mom breaking down.

With that, I wanted to make this post as a safe space for anyone in a similar place and say that you're not alone. You are valid, you are not "filled with demons", and you are beautiful. I know that pain you're feeling, and I'm offering to help comfort and support you. God LOVES you, no matter what any Church Karen says.

Even if you don't believe in God, you're valid and safe here. You don't need to harbor any guilt for who you are, and you are gonna come out of this a strong, admirable warrior. I love you all, and remember to love yourself too.

Thank you for reading this, and remember to stay safe,

-Alyss

[fymagnificentwomcn]

Leyla Feray was a perfect "Ayşe Sultan", Farah Zeynep is not that pretty plus the role of a sultana didn't suit her and of course Farya as a character sucks ! Still bitter about Tims's casting for Turhan Hatice and for how they portrayed her and she only appeared in 3 episodes Ibrahim's reign deserved its own season

I agree Anon. Harem didn’t play an important role during Murad’s reign, so to be honest I would be satisfied with having only Ayşe as a developed character. Harem during Ibrahim’s role played a HUGE role and the fact that we didn’t get all the harem dynamics of that period explored properly is my huge regret and I can bet show’s creators feel the same because they obviously planned for Season 3 devoted wholly to Ibrahim’s reign.. but such is Turkish TV market now and they still delivered a story of Kösem’s life that made sense, which is more you can tell of many TV shows nowadays, even those with huge budget and safe position like Game of Thrones that HBO would have likely prolonged as much as they could, but D&D were certain they had enough time to wrap everything up properly lol. So in those conditions,not knowing when they may get axed (and Turkish shows are filmed like two weeks in advance only), I still appreciate what they did… Now that my initial expectations about whole season of Turhan/Kösem rivalry, Ibrahim’s harem, Turhan of my dreams are more in past, I’m more able to appreciate what we got in that conditions eh.

Devoting so much time to Farya and Murya was HUGE mistake, since it didn’t save the ratings by bringing FZA’s fanbase etc., and it truly stole a lot of precious screentime later. The pacing issues are in MYK from start – back in S1 they introduced Beren earlier than planned and then rushed to end S1 with Kösem becoming regent because they weren’t sure they would get renewed. Maybe it’s crying over spilt milk now, especially since they are obviously aware that they had made a huge mistake – Farya’s screentime was clearly strongly reduced after 10 episodes and after she was removed, she was practically never mentioned again, like they pretended she had never existed lol.

Mhm I don’t think actresses’ appearance is of importance here, sultanas were normal girls, I know it is often assumed that they had to be pretty to captivate the padişah, but it was not always the case - Hürrem apparently wasn’t that conventionally pretty, but managed to charm Suleiman so much regardless. And each sultan had his own preferences. There isn’t something like “a sultana look”. I hear people talking “this actress is too pretty to play a subject, not a sultana” and I’m like ???? Royal blood doesn’t make you pretty either.

I think Leyla was absolutely fine. I liked her cutesy image in contrast to Murad’s violent nature. You can see why this girl “brought him peace” and why he ultimately destroyed her… just episode before she makes the big mistake and helps Gülbahar out, Murad threatens her to become her nightmare after Farya told him about her suspicions. She was soo scared, she was willing to do everything just not to face Mu/rat’s /spelling intentional/ wrath. And then she regretted what had done so much when she heard about people who suffered in the fire and wanted to fight Gülbahar as mother of Murad’s kids and his woman… and poor thing ultimately got exposed for wanting to fix things… #AyseDeservedBetter

I’m not satisifed with the Turhan we got, but after reading more stuff about Kösem vs Turhan conflict I’m now against the “Turhan was innocent cookie, who only jumped to her son’s defence” thing – it’s a clear example of “history being written by winners” thing. Turhan was definitely very good at propaganda – relationship between her and Ibrahim was surely tense and full of mutual dislike, and Mehmed ascending the throne and Ibrahim being dethroned surely was a good thing for her – yet in correspondence to statesmen that she wanted to bring to her side she described herself “as poor suffering widow, who just wants to punish those who killed her beloved husband”, among which she meant Kösem. There was even an occurrence when one of statesmen supporting Turhan went to Kösem to accuse her of killing Sultan Ibrahim and putting all blame on her, which reportedly shook Kösem very much. While Kösem likely did make moves to dethrone Mehmed, it’s very possible that the poisoning thing was invented by Turhan and her people to rally support. Reports put blame on “misinformation” on Suleiman Aga, who was treated as person inciting the showdown, but we know Suleiman Aga served Turhan, and it was a natural thing that servants of Imperial figures were blamed because nobody dared to accuse the actual Valide.

Turhan as Valide Sultan did not only manage harem, but was involved in state matters and the double rule often made it harder for Kösem to stabilise Empire. Turhan wasn’t deprived of being Valide Sultan; Kosem’s position was simply new & unprecedented and allowed her to be regent. While mothers began to play the role of regent recently (Kösem for Murad, Halime unofficially for Mustafa, Handan as co-regent together with Ahmed’s lala, even Mehmed III leaving the affairs in Safiye’s hands when he went on campaign to Hungary), there was no law on this and previously e.g. there was more inclination for Grand Vizier in this role.

In the end, they were both morally grey because while Kösem likely didn’t plan to poison Mehmed, of course there was always risk of him losing his life if any problems ensued following deposition, as the Ibrahim case showed.

Still, the innocent cookie defender of her son Turhan vs. evil hag Kösem narrative is not the true one.

We also must remember that:

Discretion prevented Ottoman writers from criticizing royal mothers (they did not record the hostile barbs directed by Ottoman statesmen at queen mothers and favorites which made their way into European accounts), but they did not hesitate to employ invective in he case of lesser women of the sultan’s harem. Naima, so careful to defend the young queen mother Turhan, criticized other concubines of the “mad” İbrahim with relish.

Taken from: Leslie Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Otoman Empire.

I’ve found some evidence for Turhan being groomed by Kösem and Turhan’s involvement in politics even during Ibrahim’s reign (namely in connection with the Crete war), so while we don’t know much about the relationship between the two women before Mehmed’s reign, there is some evidence supporting MYK’s direction. Leslie Peirce states that Kösem groomed Turhan and Thys-Senocak mentions that Atike chose and trained her.

However, as a new slave woman in the palace, a gift of Kör Süleyman Pasha to the valide sultan Kösem, she had been trained by Atike Sultan, a sister of Murad IV, and groomed by Kösem, who presented her to her son.

Taken from: Leslie Peirce, The Imperial Harem: Women and Sovereignty in the Otoman Empire. Peirce also reiterates that Kösem groomed Turhan in her short article entitled Gender and Sexual Propriety in Ottoman Royal Women’s Patronage.

Training by Atike could be also on Kösem’s request, though we cannot say for certain Atike was Kösem’s daughter, but yet again Kösem seemed to pretty much take care of whole dynasty, not only her own children. It is interesting because the position of the mother of eldest son’s gained importance due to switch to seniority and we know for certain Turhan wasn’t Ibrahim’s favourite consort – but maybe again he was attracted to her at first and the relationship deteriorated later. Due to her being mother of eldest son, Turhan had to be aware that being Valide is in store for her, and Kösem also had to accept the fact.

The fact is that with four episodes the showrunners decided to focus more on the already established characters and Turhan got pretty much sacrificed for it – after all, it was Kösem’s story. I get what they did for abridged story purposes, but what I saw on screen did not reflect my imaginations of historical Turhan.

In the end, MYK Turhan represented an extreme version of a person brought up in Ottoman harem. She was completely cold and almost entirely devoid of human emotions, save in some scenes with her children or her sadness upon Ibrahim preferring other concubines. She was truly unscrupulous and desperate to get to the highest top aka becoming regent for her son, which meant he had to become padişah while he was still a minor. She truly wanted to have it all, even if she had a lot compared to other harem girls – she was a chief haseki with high position given to her by her mother-in-law, who truly treated her exceptionally compared to other Valides we saw – she shared her power with her, taught her political stuff and introduced her to political world, involving her in her own affairs and even taking her to secret councils with her. Kösem was undoubtedly aware that  in light of Ibrahim’s illness she had to keep the mother of eldest prince satisifed&feeling safe because padişah like Ibrahim was an easy target for deposition. Not only Turhan had safe position due to seniority succession rules – Kösem clearly supported her and wanted her to be her successor, e.g. backed her up in the Zarife conflict. Yes, Ibrahim had other favourites, but he was a weak sultan and he wasn’t interested in this stuff at all – he just wanted to have fun with other girls and ignored Turhan, but he wasn’t politically involved enough to try to prevent Turhan from becoming next Valide because he simply didn’t give a damn most of the time.

Turhan’s going against Kösem was a huge & risky gamble, also for her son.  It’s one thing to never trust anyone fully and be on your guard, and another to go on removing everyone, so whole rule is in your hands. While we know that relations between Ibrahim&Turhan were tense, there wasn’t any repeated pattern of abuse against her or their son – Ibrahim’s outburst and throwing Mehmed justifiably shook Turhan up, but it was clear it was one-time incident that stemmed more from Ibrahim’s illness than any sort of malice or sadism. He mostly simply ignored Turhan and didn’t want to spend time in her company. Perhaps Ibrahim being a weak padişah was also why Turhan looked at him with contempt because she couldn’t accept how this man stood higher in hierarchy than her, which wounded her pride additionally. Thus said, if her primary motive had been as she said fear of Ibrahim, I don’t think she would have gone against Kösem. Kösem was after all the person who defended her to Ibrahim, tried to calm him down with regards to Turhan and she obviously supported Turhan as next Valide. Additionally, when Kösem actually controlled Ibrahim and his behaviour – later Atike didn’t care, people who were trying to use him and make him crazier for their purposes achieved their goal. Turhan purposefully wanted to make him crazier and crazier to dethrone him and now she was in the palace without her biggest former supporter. Ibrahim was definitely in far worse mental condition after Kösem’s exile and Kemankeş’ removal. We got the taste of the danger when Ibrahim threatened to strangle Mehmed during the coup – and then we finally saw fear in Turhan’s eyes. But it was she who allowed the situation to boil down to this. Turhan’s backstabbing to Kösem wasn’t only a betrayal to a person who always supported her&did a lot to her (and it was something even Ibrahim highlighted after Kemankeş’ “execution” and since he also had beef with his mother at that point, it’s hard to take his words as biased), but also her sacrificing whole nation due to striving to make Ibrahim’s reign fail so much that he would be undoubtedly deposed.

Turhan’s final win isn’t so much a triumph of very well-thought-out long-term strategy, but luck, totally unscrupulous nature, not taking into account that any bystanders might be harmed, and Kösem making a fatal mistake in the end. Until the last stand, Kösem always managed to ultimately outsmart her, and Turhan’s final victory is only due to raw force, Kösem making a fatal mistake&Kuşçu’s betrayal for reasons Kösem didn’t deserve.

 In the end, Turhan and her people represented raw power which adheres to no rules or honour. Not only did they kill so many  innocent people, but also showed no rules in the final stand – Kösem is strangled on the harem floor and her body is plundered (a historical fact, sadly), and Turhan only stays on balcony with devilish smile over the slaughtered palace. Köprülü does not face the elderly Kemankeş himself, but waits until his people defeat him to slice his throat. Haci is also murdered in unnecessarily cruel way by having his neck twisted in front of Tuhan bearing her stone cold face as she usually does. Turhan was presented as pretty much extreme product of that system – someone who is always coldly calculating, showing little human emotions (maybe only towards her kids) and only focused on achieving one’s goal without any scruples, and is unable to bond with anyone other than her kids. Same with people surrounding her, there are no strong, touching & genuine relationships like in Kösem’s team, which is based on loyalty that may mean even paying with death for it. There’s strong friendship between Haci & Kösem, same with Kemankeş and Deli Hüseyin, Kösem and Kemankeş deeply and truly love each other until the end, Hüseyin also prefers to die than to support Turhan. Even Lalezar’s “betrayal” is only about not letting an innocent child die, not wanting to support Turhan or switch sides for her personal gain. In a way, Turhan functions as some symbol of end of Empire, same with the depressing final shots, which is also accentuated in Kösem���s final monologue: ‘The lights have gone out, no right, no left, no death, no back, no forward, no top, no bottom (…) ” . I can see the rationale – it was first and foremost Kösem’s story, moreover a story that needed to be abridged.

However, as I said, Turhan is a real-life historical figure that actually did good things for the Empire, continued Kösem’s legacy and had her achievements, that’s why historical Turhan can never be simply a destructive force in my mind, and it’s probably the highest divergence between historical figure and show figure I have in my mind as far as MY&MYK are concerned.

We see some glimpses of Turhan actually taking her responsibilities seriously in the final episode – she decides to spare Mehmed’s brothers (which actually serves pretty much as plot twist taking into account how her character has been portrayed) and declares she intends to take care of the state. Ironically, while Kösem paid for politically training Turhan & introducing her to political world with her life, at least even her ultimate enemy wanted to honour her legacy & obey anti-fratricide law & was prepared for ruling. It was a posthumous win for Kösem here.

Of course the way historical Turhan took power from Kösem was questionable – it was full of brutality, purges, and it’s hard to imagine it was all without knowledge of her and her closest associates. /Still we know that Turhan likely didn’t kill harem girls that served Kösem, but got them married off instead as Kumrular writes in her Kösem biography/. However, she also proved capable in taking care of state and dynasty and since Mehmed was pretty much an obedient momma’s boy, she had much easier task than Kösem to for example persuade him not to kill his brothers.. honestly, try to control someone like Murad, it was a huge success Kösem managed to save Ibrahim.

I think that the portrayal of Turhan and her people may stem from not only brutal purges that followed Kösem’s death, but also from the period after Turhan appointed Köprülü the Grand Vizier – Peirce compares some of his methods to Murad’s and this period to Murad’s reign. While it was Köprülü who used bloody methods, we can guess that Turhan would have not let him stay GV if she had not accepted it. It is curious how Turhan/Murad emerged a pretty popular crackship in MYK… I was always like “they gave us Turhan who seems like a perfect match for Murad”.. just that her ruthlessness does not stem from anger, but more from cold detachment (fire and ice LMAO). I know some like to refer to Turhan as “Iron Lady”, so I suppose it was  what MYK creators intended. /There is of course some anger in her too - when Ibrahim told her that she was just a coward hiding under his mother’s skirts… you just knew she would NEVER let it slide and prove to him & the rest of the world she didn’t need Kösem to stay on top./

The more I think the more I’d really love to see Müge Boz as Turhan, since Turhan wasdescribed as pretty unassuming and that was also why she was able to rally supporters. It would be cool to see Kösem facing a girl looking like young her, but not innocent… yet using her innocent image. And again we should have seen more of her showing care for state. I’m actually glad we didn’t get the simple Kösem turns into Safye and encounters an innocent Anastasia that we all expected. Now I think we needed something more complex, and as I mentioned it Kösem truly didn’t turn into Safiye, while many of Turhan’s actions (like mass slaughter in harem) resemble Safiye more – yet later her son is truly in danger, so there’s some rationale in that and we see some of Kösem’s legacy in her declaration to spare Mehmed’s brothers and take care of the state. 

Likely it was intentional to make Turhan so much like the opposite of innocent Nasya.

But in the end, while there are hints of Kösem legacy being preserved (Turhan clearly wants to obey anti-fratricide law), Turhan pretty much served as a symbol of future fall of Empire because the final images of slaughtered people and her smirking on balcony in her slay kween (pretty pretentious) attire, accompanied by the above mentioned monologue, pretty much give a glimpse of apocalypse. /And LBR she claimed she had started the whole conflict for her son… then why the fuck she stands shouting to “bend the knee or die” & “show no mercy” or grins on the balcony instead of sitting with her son or at least checking up on him?/

It’s kinda fitting end for Kösem story, where she was the protagonist, especially when we see how yellow filter & fairytale elements from first episodes of MYK (which gradually become less bright) to the total darkness and atmosphere of doom of final episode. Still, as I said, Turhan Sultan is a historical figure that deserves more.

In a way, we were by default robbed of a satisfying depiction of Turhan by the mere fact that Ibrahim’s regin was abridged to 4 episodes – we should have got her early days in harem, her growing up etc., but I think at this point I decided to stop crying over spilt milk, I think, even though the mere fact that some fake princess got 22 episodes and Turhan 4 is always gonna hurt.

- Joanna

[laurenbanasik]

A wholesome meme, and I changed my lockscreen to a desert because my phone is DRYYYYY AS FUCKKKKING HELLLLLL. I rarely get contact from those I love because they’re far away and I’m p sure they have a secret group chat without me in it to make things easier without having to worry about inviting me since I live so far away and don’t want to burden me with not being able to spontaneously hang (which breaks my fucking heart but oh well 🙃) and if I’m wrong I suppose my extreme social paranoia has WON YET AGAIN OOOOPPPPSS. Well I’m emotionally overwhelmed and drunk so here’s another rant on how my life sucks and how I have such an issue telling other people about it because, due to years and years of emotional neglect, I have an INCREDIBLE INABILITY to confide in others healthily HAHAHHAHA. S/o to anyone who deems me a valid human being and god forbid chooses me for a friend.

Anywho, I’ve FINALLY realized why I fucking HATE to see my only friends hangout without me. MAYBE. JJJJUUSTT MAYBE, it has to do with the fact that the last time I saw my old high school friends (the 3 I held closest to my heart and confided everything in) hanging out without me on social media was also the same day they yote me out of their lives forever... More detail? I thought you’d never ask!! How kind of you to care about my innermost traumas and allow me to express myself, seeing as I’m an incredibly open book about my sorrows. Having anyone listen to them and make me feel like a person worthy of love and care despite my many faults is something that NEVER FUCKING HAPPENS to me anymore due to me not opening up, not having the emotional availability to, or I’m just SO SO SICK OF BURDENING MY LOVED ONES WITH THE SAME SAD SHIT OVER AND OVER AGAIN THAT IVE JUST SWALLOWED MY INNERMOST DEMONS TO AVOID FURTHER CONTAMINATION OF MY LIFES ONLY LIGHT AKA MY FRINDS WHO THINK IM FIIIINNNEEE. FUN FACT IM FUCKING NOOOTTTT !!!!

Anyways, it was the tail end of my senior year in high school and my 3 closest and bestest friends in the whole wide world.... posted on Snapchat that they’d met up, without me, and were doing some bs cutsey bff forever Pinterest bullshit. I asked why I wasn’t there , and they proceeded to mock me via social media and kindly let me know I was no longer their friend by dancing to the hook of “I don’t Fuck With You”. Visciously @-ing meover snapchat. I cried. And cried. And fuck it had an AWFUL panic attack because I had ABSOLUTELY NO GODDAMN Clue what was happening. I was Confused. Hurt. Lost. AND I had no idea what I did wrong. (I later learned it was because someone said that someone said that I Apparently said something mean about them. It wasn’t true but, hey, it’s probably because I’m SUCH a horrible friend, and SUCH a cunt that it was apparently SOOOO believeable that IT completely negated anything I could’ve said in my defense. Adding to my extreme social paranoia I hold near and dear to me to this day, that’s often exploited in most social interactions I have which has made me an almost total recluse! THANKS ABBIE, KOURTNEY, AND BRIDGETTE! FUCK IT ADD JESSICA AND KASEY IN THERE TOO ECWN THOUGH THEYD NEVER CALL ME THEIR FRIEND IN ANY HEALTHY CIRCUMSTANCE HAHA ! YAYYYY TORMENTORS !!!) .....

And that was the last I ever really had contact with them. My only friends throughout some of the most pivotal years of my life. One I talked out of suicide and self harm, another I assisted with confidence and general love and support, and I tried to be there for the third as best I could, but she was a typical badass so I just enjoyed her company. My high school friends. I gutted them out of my heart as best I could. Forgot all of the AMAZING times we’ve had. A great portion of my memories in high school were tossed out along with their presence in my life to make the pain go away. A huge part of me died that day ... and nobody knew about it.

So, now, whenever I’m excluded I’m immediately put back into that void of confusion. What did I do wrong ? Did I hurt them? Why am I not there ? Do they think that little of me? Do they know how much I love them? Do I care for them more than they do for me? Is this a healthy friendship? Do they really think I’d rather be anywhere than with them? Should I just cut them out of my heart now to be ready for eventual betrayal ? Do I cut them out of my soul despite how much I’ll bleed? Haha , Yeah. I know.... it’s tucked up and Toxic as all hell. But, I can’t even begin to imagine a conversation with anyone about their attempt to help me with THAT problem. Or any other problems resulting from that. And, a couple days ago... id met up with a friend I’ve had since middle school. Someone who I loved my life side by side with until college. Someone Who saw that entire exchange, and who is still friends with those who (knowingly/unknowingly) tormented me to the point of breaking all through high school in the most demented,confusing, and underhanded ways you can imagine. I told that story to her, because she never knew how me and my 3 friends drifted so far away from each other. She had JUST heard about ALL of that for the FIRST time in nearly 4 years. And she believed me.... The whole situation of my downfall as a respected senior at Euclid High School. A girl who I’ve shared more than half my life with at the time ... and it was invisible to her. Wild.

I have broken apart an old piece of myself. Analyzed every detail, despite how much each part made me bleed. These old shard rip open old scars. It’s nothing new. I’ve been living in confused, isolated pain for YEARS. You really think this will break me? .... I mean I’m already very much broken. I mean, look at me, I’m venting on tumblr 🙃😒🙄. I just keep making shifty shelters out of the broken pieces of myself, just waiting for the next wolf to blow me down. I may be living in fear and paranoia, but I’m still standing....... aren’t I ?

[floof-reppu]

Can I just ask, who is your top 5 favorite characters in bnha and why?🤔🤔🤔 (I wanted to say top 10 but thought it would be too much 😂😂😂) love your writing ♥️♥️♥️

oh my gosh, thank you so much! my top five, huh? honestly my list is pretty much characters I find interesting or I relate to them somehow

hope you wanted a serious talk

My number five would probably have to be Kendo. She’s like the big sister figure I’ve always wanted in my life and she’s honestly such a sweetie. She seems to be tolerant towards certain situations but when it comes to you know, dissing 1-A she has no tolerance towards Monoma and his fuckery.

Number 4 is definitely Nejire. She isn’t up in my own big three because I have better reasons for my top three and why they are there, but she reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger and much more curious than I am now. She’s such a cutie and if she was real I would totally want to be friends with her, no joke.

Number 3 is Jiro. Why, you may ask? I relate to her on so many personal levels, from her love of the musical arts to her insecurities, this girl is like the mirror image of myself but more punk-rockish. She knows how to play the guitar (like myself) and honestly thought her love of music wasn’t valid because she wanted to be a hero instead of a musician. It’s kind of the same with my family; they wanted me to go to college for something that “I could actually get a job in” like being a music educator or an English major, but yet here I am in my sophomore year pursuing a degree in CIT.

Warning, Possible Spoilers Ahead

Number 2 is Ragdoll. Yes, I mean the Wild Wild Pussycats member Ragdoll. This one actually hits really close to home. When Ragdoll lost her quirk just as quickly as we were introduced to her I was extremely upset, and this was BEFORE I even delved deeper into her character. 

The same way her quirk was stolen from her and she lost all sense of herself, my great-grandmother passed away and I was almost placed in foster care because of it. Even so, a family friend took me in and I had to adjust to an entirely new life; no computer, no anime, nothing that I was used to having or watching as a kid. I was devastated and fell into a deep depression after that, and my friends told me that I wasn’t myself anymore. The things I loved, the things that made me who I was, was taken from me. I was naturally an excitable and fun-loving person who laughed at just about everything, but as soon as that happened, I lost all sense of self and had to rediscover who I really was. My senior year rolled around and I was seemingly doing better, but all I really did was cater to the people around me and neglect my own happiness. I had a boyfriend at the time who used me to gain popularity, again making me fall into depression as soon as I got to college last year. 

But, just like Ragdoll, I got better. Even though a lot of the things in my life have changed over the course of the past four years, I found new friends who cared about how I felt and asked me if I was okay, and my old personality came back.

-

And finally, my number 1, which honestly nobody should be surprised about, is the gorgeous Yu Takeyama, AKA Mt. Lady. You’re probably thinking that I have some sort of dumb as fuck reasoning for her being my top favorite. Well, you’re both right and wrong.

First of all I’m just going to say this; you all over here thirsting about all the boys of MHA, and then you have me, the straight as hell woman who, if Mt. Lady was a physical person, would literally fall head over heels for and let her fuck me step on me. Just because she’s vain as fuck and cares a lot about popularity and fame doesn’t mean she can’t be a goddamn good wife girlfriend person.

When she’s doing hero work or slacking off at her agency, that’s literally who I am when it comes to certain aspects of my life. She takes things just as seriously as the other pros do when it comes to missions even though she whines, just like how I take a lot of things in my life seriously. If I’m with my friends, I sure as hell ain’t gonna be serious unless we’re doing something school-related or helping them with a personal issue. Netflix and chill? Hell yeah, pop some popcorn and have a lazy day with my friends, or even just lay around my dorm room even though I know I have stuff to do. 

also, I find the fact that she destroyed her agency by accident probably more than once hilarious.

so yeah, those are my top five. 

yes, I’m aware that all of them are female. 

try to make me like one of the guys as much as I like my wife, it’s impossible

[sanders-specs]

My Ace Story

A few people seemed to be interested in this, so here it is for anyone who wants to read. It’s pretty long, over 2k words. I just had a lot of feelings and thoughts about this whole thing and I had a sudden urge to just write it all down. I don’t know, maybe it’ll help someone, but this really just for me. To get these thoughts out of my head. Again, it’s pretty long, so it’s all under the cut. 

I’ve seen a lot of ace stories since I started looking into asexuality. Since I first thought I myself might be ace. All of those stories seemed to talk about some revelation, some moment where everything seemed to fall into place. I know not everyone’s stories are the same, but I just saw a lot of things that seemed to be common for a lot of ace people. I’ve never really seen one like mine, though, so here it is.

For me being ace was never something that was loud. It was never in my face. I never had a sudden realization or an ‘aha!’ moment. It was all a really slow, really quiet understanding of the way I’ve been feeling for the past ten years of my life (roughly after I started puberty, though I suppose you could argue it goes further back than that).

I was never told I was weird. Or wrong. Or alien. So I never really felt that way. There were a few days, here and there, where I wondered to myself why I didn’t seem to look at other people the way my friends seem to, but I’d always dismiss it and move on with my life.

Here’s the thing, though. Sex has never been an open conversation to me. I learned about sex through fanfiction (really bad fanfiction I might add). My mom never sat me down and told me about it. It’s never been a topic openly discussed in my house. Even now that I’m almost twenty, it’s just not something we really talk about.

I don’t blame my mom. She was never comfortable talking about any ‘privet’ stuff with me. She never talked about that stuff with her own mother. I always had to ask about periods and anything else pertaining my body. She once told me that even though she was uncomfortable, she forced herself to talk about it when I asked questions because she wanted to be there for me.

So no, I can’t blame her. It was just never something I asked about.

I never thought to ask about it. It was never something I was concerned with. Sure, I’d read about it in fanfic or books, or I’d see sex scenes on TV shows or movies. Those would intrigue me, in the way that learning how something works intrigues me. I guess I just thought I’d figure it out when the time came. It never occurred to me to experiment. It was never something I was comfortable with.

My friends never talked about it either. We were a group of loners, a group of nerds of varying degrees. None of us really had partners for a while, until high school at least (with a few exceptions). But we never talked about sex. Not even when people started pairing off. At least, they never talked about sex around me.

Maybe it was the demeanor I had. Maybe it was the shyness or the social anxiety. But I was always the ‘innocent one.’ I was always the “wow she never swears!” “She’s a good girl” person of our group. So they felt like they had to ‘preserve’ my ‘innocence.’

Now, I don’t ever recall anyone saying those things to me in a serious way. Jokes, sure, but I think the jokes got into my head and festered. Most of those things were just my perception. How I felt. But I honestly do think that on some level they were real.

And it got under my skin. It annoyed me that I seemed to me on the outside of some joke everyone seemed to be in on and no one was willing to explain it to me. I was annoyed that I felt like I was being treated like a five year old by my own friends.

That’s probably the most extreme emotion I ever felt about the whole thing. It was less about my own sexuality, though, and more about how I was being treated because of it (even though I didn’t realize it at the time. I still considered myself straight).

I did take a moment to think about why I was so upset. Because, well, they were right. I honestly didn’t know much about sex. Talking about it made me flustered and uncomfortable. So I pretty much resigned myself to my feelings about it all, and internalized it. Not the healthiest thing to do (and I did end up having a breakdown about it, and eventually talking to my friends about it. I am a lot better about it all now).

For the most part, though, it was just little confusions. Not understanding why someone would want to have sex in the bathrooms, why people would make out in the hallways, why my school had a literally stairwell (out of three) that pretty much everyone—student body and staff—knew to avoid in the mornings because that’s where couples went to make out (or do more). I couldn’t for the life of me understand why a group of boys would go to the effort to sneak into the ceiling and cut out a hole in the tiles of the girls bathroom to spy in there (yes, that’s something that actually happened and it amuses, baffles, and angers me to this day).

I just couldn’t wrap my head around it all. Even at a younger age, it baffled me. I remember in fifth grade there was a boy who a girl in my glass always bickered and fought with. They weren’t in the same class, so it was mostly shouting across the lunch tables or playground bickering. Then one day when our two classes got together for a movie day, I saw them holding hands and cuddling and I was just…baffled. Completely and utterly confused. My first thought was honestly “wait, are they allowed to do that?” followed by “wait…what? why?”

Then there was the ever so wonderful sex ed class in eighth grade. Okay, honestly, it was more of a ‘scare these girls into never having sex because dieses’ class. The instructor even went on the assumption that everyone knew what sex was and how it worked, so I spent a majority of the class just vaguely confused and wondering why the hell would anyone ever want to have sex, it sounded terrible.

In high school, every single year at the beginning of the year we all got the same lecture on not sending nudes. It was illegal, could ruin your life, all that jazz. Every time, I would always think “who in their right mind would want to do that?” Partly because I’m very much of a stick to the rules and law kind of girl (mostly) but also because the entire concept confused me. I never understood what the point was. I always thought if you want to send a picture to your partner, just send one of you looking nice. Why do you have to be naked? What is the point?

I guess I also didn’t understand the kind of vulnerability a person would be putting themselves in with that situation. I don’t know. It still confuses me, but I’ve just let it go at this point.

Those are just some of the bigger stuff. There were a lot of smaller things. Conversations I overheard, offhand comments, jokes that went over my head.

Even through all of that, though, I never thought I was weird. I never thought of myself as different. I honestly reasoned it with “well, there are over seven billion people on this earth, so the chances of me being the only person on the world who feels this way is honestly really small” and I would go about my day. Seriously. That’s how I validated myself. I just assumed everyone felt the same way until they proved otherwise.

And like I said before, it wasn’t really my biggest concern. I knew I was attracted to guys in some form or fashion, so I just figured I was straight. I didn’t know asexuality was a thing.

I always thought I felt sexual attraction, though. Everyone felt attracted to someone, right? I just thought “well, yeah, of course I do.” At the time it wasn’t even sexual attraction. It was just…sex.

I never stopped to think about what sexual attraction actually feels like.

I never stopped to realize all my ‘crushes’ were incredibly forced.

I never thought about it. I was far more concerned about school or clubs or literally anything else. No one ever really flirted with me (to my knowledge), sex was never offered to me, I never dated anyone. It was never a direct part of my life. Still isn’t, honestly.

It wasn’t really until I first heard the term asexual that I realized it was even a thing. I can’t even remember when I first heard the term. I remember the time after, and I remember the time before, but I can’t really remember when I first heard the word. I think it was when one of my friends introduced me to someone who was asexual, and they explained, but I can’t be sure.

The knowledge of it did open some doors for me. I didn’t really start researching it until a lot later when I started to seriously question myself, but the thought was always there in the back of my mind.

The thought “well at least I know I’m not asexual” flitted through my had far too many times throughout that year (I do remember that it was specifically my senior year of high school). I call that denial. Because it was. I was trying to convince myself that I wasn’t ace.

I should also mention that this was around the time when nearly all of my friends had come out. I was surrounded by LGBT+ people all the time (all of whom I love dearly), so it was something that was on my mind a lot. I was convinced that me wondering if asexuality fit me was just me trying to fit in with them. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d done something to try and fit in with my friends. If I’m being honest, there’s still a part of me that kinda thinks that. That I just didn’t want to be the “token straight friend” (which I had been referred to multiple times, mostly as a joke I think, but something about it always bothered me a little) anymore. I was honestly really afraid of what they would say, so I never said anything to them about it for a long time.

There was this one time in my psychology class, though, that really started to make me realize I might be ace. We were going to have a whole class period talking about asexuality and whether or not it’s a thing. I was so excited for it. I was prepared to defend asexuality to the death. Then I ended up missing it because I had to make up a stupid quiz. I even tried to convince my teacher to let me take it later because I really wanted to be in that discussion, but because it “wasn’t going to be on the AP test” it didn’t matter.

I’m still bitter about it.

Mostly because when he told us we were going to talk about it, my first thought was “maybe this will help me determine if I’m asexual or not.”

It wasn’t really a thought that I acknowledged, apart from my disappointment of missing the whole thing. It was a thought that scared me, though, because it was serious. It was really the first time I started thinking that maybe I’m not straight, and it frightened me a little. So much so that I pushed it to the back of my mind after that day and didn’t think too much about it after that.

At least until after I graduated and started spending all day everyday at home with way too much time to think.

I remember that first new years after I graduated was the first time I ever even spoke the word asexuality out loud to another person.

I was talking with my friend Star, and we were talking about sex in some form or fashion, I don’t remember exactly, but I do remember they were the first person I ever talked about possibly being ace with. This was at a time where I was still in denial, still questioning, but talking with them even a little helped.

This was after months of researching, of reading blog posts about being ace, what it means. This was after I found the Thomas Sanders community that is full of ace and ace accepting people. Where asexuality is talked about in a positive and opening light. Thomas himself has ace friends who I greatly admire and look up to. It’s something I’ll forever be grateful for. Because of them, I started to feel more comfortable about the idea. Because of them, I learned and finally understood what asexuality even means beyond its textbook definition.

Because of them, I felt comfortable about talking about it with one of my closest friends.

There’s a lot I have to be grateful to that community for.

Really, it was after talking with Star that I really threw myself into it. More research, more speculation, more paying attention to my own feelings. I wasn’t scared about the idea anymore. Well, I was, but I felt like I needed to get through that. I needed to understand.

They’re still the person I feel the most comfortable talking about it with. They were there through all my rants, through my slow but sure acceptance of myself. I can’t count the number of times I messaged them just ranting about different ace things and my wonderings. I’m beyond glad I have someone like them in my life. Someone who didn’t even understand asexuality fully at the time but was completely accepting and supportive and eventually asked questions to better understand me and asexuality as a whole.

So now I’m on the other side of it. Like I said, there was no sudden realization. It was literal years of just slow understanding, working through a lot of confusions and frustrations. I see a lot of ace stories where people were treated horribly in relationships, where they spent their lives wondering what was wrong with them.

Those stories are valid, and by no means can mine compare to theirs, but I don’t see a lot of stories like mine. Where figuring out you’re ace wasn’t a big thing. It didn’t feel like a big thing. It was just a part of me, a part of my personality, of my feelings, that finally had a title. That I finally understood.

There are still some downsides, though.

I know I can never tell my parents. I just don’t believe they’ll understand it at all, or worse, tell me I’m wrong. Maybe it’s just my fear, but it’s not something I want to test.

Telling the rest of my friends was absolutely terrifying, and I’m honestly scared if/when I get a romantic partner.

There are a lot of people who don’t think ace people exist, that it’s a thing, and it’s sad and frustrating and upsetting.

I feel like I can never be out IRL because of the fear of those people.

Still, there is a kind of peace of mind that came with it. Probably because I was right in my initial rationalization. There are other people who feel the same way I do. I just didn’t know we a had a name.

[yoshidaspan]

My earliest memory is of myself wishing to have the attention of my lifelong best friend, Levi. At the time, Levi and I were playing with a boy who was a year older than us, Austin. I don’t remember what was happening specifically, but I do remember what I was feeling. I was filled with a sense of longing. Longing for Levi and Austin’s attention. For their approval. That is the farthest back in my life that I can remember.

As a kid, I was...eccentric. I liked weird stuff, preferred to be by myself, and constantly felt out of place. I was different on a fundamental level. I wanted the approval of others, but was filled with terrible insecurities and self doubt any time I would try to interact with anyone. I saw normal jokes and social interactions as people despising me. It didn’t help that I was extremely skinny, had almost no sense of self worth, and had a terrible speech disorder which made it hard to connect and communicate with people.

I was also filled with a burning competitive spirit. I had to be the best. At everything. I had to be the smartest, the fastest, and the most dedicated to anything and everything under the sun. This was probably cause by living in my brother’s shadow and the fact that I was a pretty smart kid academically. Whenever I wasn’t the absolute best, I felt a crushing weight come upon me. But I did my best to hide it. I put on a smile and shoved all the bad things I felt deep inside me. Again, this is all still happening when I am very young.

I started looking to see what would make me feel good about myself. I looked at television and books and all of my hero’s. And it all boiled down to one thing; dating. Everyone that I looked up to as a kid had one thing in common. They all got the girl, whether that was by finding “true love” or by being the cool guy that dated every hot chick in school. (My main hero’s were drake from drake and josh and aang from avatar). So at the ripe old age of 11 I started dating. Or at least tried to convince girls to go out with me. But again, I was the weird, socially awkward kid who learned how to interact from watching tv and reading Percy Jackson. I tried to be funny but just came off as slightly rude and majorly annoying. And here is the worst part. I blocked out all the feelings of self doubt and hate and just shoved them deep inside me. To stew and fester and remain unresolved.

I also repressed a lot of my childhood memories because of how much I hated myself. Any failed social interaction or attempt to ask a pretty girl out immediately for locked up in some dark corner of my brain. So a lot of this is “revisionist history” because I can only go off what other people tell me and what bits I remember.

So I kept dating. And dating. And wishing someone would pour their self into me and make me feel like I was valid. Until I got to one girl. One girl who I absolutely fell head over heels for. And that was a girl named Mikalyn. Mikalyn was sweet and beautiful and above all caring. She cared about everyone she came across. I tried for a solid year and a half to get her attention to no avail. And so I was crushed by the weight of my self hate and blamed my body image and lack of social skills. And so I did what I do best. I shoved down all of my feelings and looked for the next girl. Since I still wasn’t over Mikalyn, I went for her best friend, Rachael. And I had improved on my outward facade that Racheal actually agreed to date me. It was actually in the middle of dating Racheal that I fell for another girl. And I fell hard. Borderline stalker and definitely unhealthy. That girl was Brynnan, and we will be talking about her a lot more.

At this point I’m in the eighth grade and still have almost crippling feelings of self hate that I am barely suppressing. But along the way, I have found three safe havens from all of these feelings. And those safe havens are martial arts, music, and writing. And while they all made me feel better about myself, they also brought with them huge challenges and repercussions. Martial arts was and is amazing because of the pure level of dedication and heart I put into it. It was physical and helped me with my body issues. It let me beat out some of my aggression and intense feelings I had been holding inside me. It fuels my competitive spirit. Music was amazing because it allowed me to pour my feelings into notes. It let me be good at a skill. It was meditative and let my flex my creativity. Writing let me be my true self and actually feel my feelings.

But martial arts caused me to work myself to exhaustion. Music made me wish I was cooler than I was. Writing made me realize how broken I was inside.

Because I was now aware that I was messed up and was broken inside, I couldn’t deal. I tried to shove everything down again but it just came back up again. I was still chasing Brynnan. I was barely passing classes. I was failing in every aspect of my life. And so, little by little I killed my emotions. I stopped feeling. I went numb. Brynnan started dating a guy named Colton. I made a few terrible mistakes and only went to martial arts sporadically. I only played bass when I was in band class. I stopped writing.

Amidst all of this, one video changed my life. It resolved my body issues. It opened my eyes to who I truly was. Who I can’t deny I am. It made me feel alive and...happy. Truly happy for the first time in a very, very long time. And that was Jacksepticeye’s playthough of a normal lost phone. In the game, our protagonist discovers that he is not a he. That “he” is transgender. And that resonated deeper within me than words will ever describe.

And then Colton put Brynnan though He’ll and back. Brynnan’s family life imploded. Her entire world had shifted. And so she started doing one thing that would change both of our lives forever. She cut herself.

I wanted to feel again. And not just this numbness that was occasionally interrupted by searing pain and immeasurable sadness. And so I tried to get closer to Brynnan. So I cut myself. And a new world opened to me.

It was addicting. I felt like I was in control. I felt something again. And I felt like I was powerful. I couldn’t stop. Line after line was carved in my skin. I was writing again. I could feel again. Pain, but this time pain that I controlled.

My relationship with my parents worsened with every passing day. They found out about my gender dysphoria and snapped, saying it was an abomination and that I would end up nothing but a crack whore. I just desperately wanted to belong, to feel loved, and to find myself.

I eventually met a girl named Lauryn at a Speech, Drama, and Debate tournament. Even as I still had feelings for someone else, I was really just looking to be validated, to try and pour out some of the intense emotions in my heart, and to have someone by my side. Lauryn and I quickly started dating, and almost as quickly broke up. But it turns out that Lauryn had a LOT of the same problems that I did, and we quickly reconnected and got into a very serious relationship. We both loved each other, but I fell for her in a way that scared her. I claimed that I was willing to do anything for her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

It was during this time that two important things happened. I turned 18, and immediately moved out of my parents house into what would become affectionately known as The Rug, with three of my best friends on the planet. And it was when I decided to pursue a career in the military.

My time in The Rug was my first taste of freedom and with that came a lot of responsibility and the beginning of rock bottom. I was stressed from working 40 hour work weeks on top of trying to just barely pass my senior year of high school. I started smoking weed with my friends to help relax. Lauryn came from a family of stoners and would join me nearly every night, out under the stars. But Lauryn and I started to fight and feel as though our relationship had a deadline, as I would soon be leaving for boot camp, and she would be going off to medical school.

We broke up. She ended things. And I truly hadn’t known what it was like to be heartbroken before then. I felt utterly alone. I had pushed away a lot of my friends to spend time smoking with Lauryn. I only saw my parents once every few weeks, and our relationship was practically nonexistent. So I turned to drugs. I started smoking weed more and more, as well as cigarettes. I was showing up to work high, and put every dollar I had ever saved into the habit. But I had found a new group of people to be with, who listened to my problems and provided my support. Slowly but surely I picked myself up and put the pieces of my life back together. I was still smoking almost every day, but I had a group of friends and had a handle on my depression. (Even if it was because I was just numbing it with drugs, I didn’t want to end my life for the first time in years)

And then I left for basic training. I was going to become a Marine. I went through three months of Hell, but it gave me two things that I had longed for all my life; Self confidence and self love. And now, I no longer feel gender dysphoria. I’m confident in who I am and truly do love myself. But I can still feel the weight of all the pain I carried inside for so long. I can still feel the icy claws of depression gripping my heart. I may be a lot better now, but I am a long way from healed, and I am terrified that one day I will be right back where I was.

[whatifididsomethingnew]

Take Your Medication

I’m a college freshman in my second semester. I’ve been struggling with depression and ADHD for who knows how long, but I was diagnosed(i think? idk if it was official) in my freshman year of high school and given medication for it sometime in my senior year.

I didn’t take the medication very often. I started off strong, taking the ADHD medication especially to get me through classes and make sure the dosage lasted me to sixth period, my worst class at the time. But over the summer I stopped because I decided that the positive effects didn’t make up for the side effects: a lack of appetite and dry mouth.

Below the keep reading is my experience with mental illnesses and medication. It’s long. tl;dr If you have access to medication, take it. It helps. And make sure the dosage is right for you

 I’ve never been a bad student. Aside from failing algebra 2 in freshman year (ive never been good at “advanced” math, it was an IB class so even worse, and even better students agreed that the teacher was awful), I’ve gotten at worst 1-2 C’s per year. But since middle school I’ve found myself unable to pay attention, preferring to think about the book I want to read or the game I want to play or even just something else I started learning about. I figured out how to get by with finished homework and average tests. But I took about 6 AP tests in high school and only passed one, because I couldn’t study well enough to retain all the information I learned and forgot over the course, or pay attention to the exam to finish the multiple choice, or have enough foundation in the subject to write an essay that mattered at all.

This point in my life has almost certainly been my worst, depression-wise. I only live about twenty minutes away from my parents’ house, and I go home every weekend so I’m not just alone in my apartment for three days straight, but I’m still isolated during the week. My friends that are still in high school are busy with classes and extracurriculars and meeting with friends they still see everyday and very few of them have their own cars to drive up to visit me, and my friends in college are all busier than ever, all going to school anywhere from 15 minutes to like four hours away. My bad days are worse and happen more often and can span into bad weeks. I tend to write at best 1 page of notes after about 2 1/2 hours of classes a week, and drain my phone battery down to the sixties because I don't pay attention in lectures on subjects I’m not interested in. 

In high school I couldn’t wait for college, because I could choose my classes and the times and had the opportunity to make friends! But I realized I’m bad at making friends; I made one friend in kindergarten, when times were simpler, and all my lasting relationships (aside from my online friends, whom I treasure dearly) can be attributed to that one friendship. (I actually made a flowchart during class when another student was presenting, and I had the energy and motivation because I actually took my meds today!)

All this personal information about my Bad Times™ is to make you understand how much I needed to take my medication. But I don’t have classes everyday, so I didn’t think that taking ADHD meds everyday was worth it, and I (incorrectly) recalled that taking the depression meds didn’t help me enough to validate taking it everyday, instead only when it got really bad, but that plan didn’t work because when my depression is bad I don’t even have enough energy to text back or walk like four steps total to get my laptop, let alone walk to the bathroom and get the pills. 

So I didn’t take it, besides from when I worked my first 8-hour shifts at my first job. And those side-effects were extreme, because my body wasn’t used to these meds that were incredibly high in dosage because that’s what I need. I felt nauseous and dizzy enough to faint and went to the back room like four times an hour for a drink of water and it was still way less than I wanted. And I still didn’t learn my lesson about how the side-effects would get easier to handle if I took them more, but worse if I only took them on worst-case bases. I was thinking more in the moment about how bad I felt then, rather than about how I could feel better in the future if I pushed through.

I had a series of awful days, just last week. I cried several tears with no clear cause, only my own thoughts and boredom and depression, which means a lot in relation to me because I don’t cry. I watched Dear Evan Hansen and The Prom live, both with the original cast, and only cried a total of five tears at most, despite how these musicals and their subject matters are very dear to me. It was a bad week that came out of nowhere, nothing extraordinarily bad happened. I did the same thing as always, if not more. But still, it was a very bad week, because I was experiencing the heavy depression and it didn’t go away after I fell asleep. I don’t have classes on Wednesdays this semester; I have a lab on Mondays, and three lectures in a row on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I learned last semester that having enough leisure time to chill in my apartment for several hours between classes only makes going to the later class way more tedious. I usually get picked up by one of my parents on Thursdays while whichever of them it is drives home from work that day. That week I was lucky to have my Thursday classes cancelled, so I got picked up a day early. 

Being home is good for my health, adding it all up. It makes me a bit insecure about being independent, but fuck that I’m only 18 and I love my parents, I don’t need to be completely independent yet. Being home only improved when @pointlessoressential moved in with me; having someone so similar to me in regards of being content sitting and doing our own thing without the expectation to have something to Do™  all the time. It’s good for me, to have someone around me so I don’t get too isolated, but also not too overwhelmed. I’m usually pretty open with my mom, too, so being with her during the weekend and being able to talk with her or watch some easy TV together is good. I’ve never been very good at opening up to people; my main characterization with friends I’m not as close with is sarcasm and puns and whatever other humor to distract both of us from personal issues. I’ve been trying to get better, with help and reminders from the aforementioned bee and mom, as well as my best friend (who yes my meeting of and bonding with can indirectly be connected to that kindergarten friend, if you were wondering) who is much more skilled at telling me about her feelings than I am. But I’m trying. So I told my mom about how I had been having a bad week, once I got home.

My mom has dealt with depression her whole life, too. Most of her life she thought she also had anxiety, but when I was diagnosed with ADHD, the psychiatrist who had prescribed me the medications I take explained to both of us that ADHD in afab people (I'd say women bc my mom is cis but I'm nonbinary, so afab people) can be misdiagnosed as anxiety bc it’s different from what TV shows it to be, and the reactive anxiety (as opposed to constant, causeless anxiety from an anxiety disorder) is a symptom of ADHD. She’s dealt with the same issues all her life, so I go to her often when I hit the wall.

She told me to take the medication. I said I didn’t like the side-effects. She bought me mouthwash that helps dry mouth and a box of Rice Krispies Treats so I can eat something small but filling when I lose my appetite. She reminded me that the side-effects would improve if I took the medication more often. I am privileged in that I had the opportunity to see a doctor for my issues and be able to afford (even if barely) my medication, and I should take advantage of that instead of taking it for granted.

This is a long post, sharing my personal story about having mental illnesses, and how medication helps. It may not feel like it took effect, but then it’ll wear off and you’ll realize the difference. It’s better to feel stable, to feel “normal” for most of the day, than to get used to feeling awful. I took my medication this morning before class; I’ve taken about five hours to write this whole thing, due to having begun it before one lecture started, then continuing it during another while also listening to my professor review the first five chapters of Return of the King and discuss it with us. And now I’m in my apartment, on my laptop, switching between ending this PSA and checking on due dates and reviewing my calendar and just being 10 times more productive than I ever am.

I don’t know if anyone will need this advice. I don’t know how many will even click the read more. But this is a blog site, and this is something I’m trying to learn and have it remembered. It’s something I needed to put into words, and now it is.