#but none of his friends have a formal education and as always are so supportive of him

[seagull-scribbles]

GRADUATION DAY!

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Brilliant Plan [Anthony Bridgerton x Reader]

Title: Brilliant plan Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Female!Reader Word count: 3.3k Published: 10 February, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: My first ever Bridgerton fic, please don’t be too hard on me :) Summary: Even as a new debutante you have your eyes on the eldest Bridgerton, Anthony and it seems he is just as interested in you. That is until he halts your relationship in the courting period, leaving you confused.

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You stood in front of the enormous, wooden doors leading you to the unknown. As one of the new debutantes of the season, you felt slightly pressured and nervous. It’s been an endless waiting game, or so it felt like one, but now that you stood in front of the entrance of your future, every little problem you ever had felt mediocre.

Taking a couple of deep breaths seemed to calm your nerves, but as soon as your mother placed her hand on your shoulder, all your worries came back at once. The event has been one that you have been waiting for eagerly, you were happy to be a part of such an elite society, but no one prepared you for the mental battle you were going to be having deep inside you.

“Shall we wait and take a seat, dear?” your mother interrupted your chaotic thoughts, gesturing towards a golden bench outside of the ballroom. A voice within you screamed for those additional seconds away from your grand entrance, but instead you shook your head.

“No, mama, let’s head inside,” a small, phoney smile spread across your face. Your mother nodded in agreement and gently nudged your back as if wanting to help you to take the first step.

As the gigantic doors opened, your gaze fell on the sea of people dancing in the middle of the room, each wearing their finest attires of the most expensive materials with the shiniest jewelleries. You felt slightly out of place even though you were just as stunning as anyone in the room.

First step, second step, it took a couple of them to finally make yourself present and when you finally felt more comfortable walking into the room, you felt as if hundreds of eyes watched every step of yours, making you feel self-conscious once again. It was scary to feel all those eager eyes on you, but after an inner monologue, you finally lifted your head high, straightened your back and forced a small smile across your face.

As you looked around you recognised quite a few people, for instance the Bridgerton sisters, Daphne and Eloise who were although younger than you, had found a dear friend in you, someone they could turn to if needed. Gazing around the room you found the Featherington sisters who you only knew through the annual dinners your family organised.

You were older than the usual debutantes as your mother wanted you to be highly educated before marrying you off. Although you couldn’t wait to be a part of these high society gatherings, you understood that your mother didn’t want you to marry just anyone.

Finally, the curious gazes felt less intimidating and as Daphne walked up to you, you greeted each other with a smile. “I thought you’d never join us,” she joked with you, but you just shook your head with the least lady-like laughter.

“I couldn’t have deprived you from my company. I’m delightful,” you chuckled at your own joke. Your mother placed her hand on your shoulder excusing herself as she headed off to the opposite direction.

“Are you excited?” Daphne asked with an innocent, but enthusiastic smile painted across her face.

“I have been waiting for it for quite a while. Of course, I’m excited,” you replied giggling.

“Shall we find you a husband then?” she chuckled joyfully. You cleared your throat, feeling slightly awkward, but Daphne wasn’t silly nor was she naïve. She immediately understood that her question made you feel slightly uncomfortable. “Do you not want to?”

“Daph, I really wanted to be a part of these gorgeous balls and chatting away with people throughout the evening, however I can’t picture myself getting married just yet,” you offered her a pleading look, hoping she would understand you.

Of course, it was a dream of yours to finally start attending these balls, but there was a reason or two for your hesitancy. You didn’t feel ready to marry anyone, especially not if you didn’t love your significant other, on the other hand, you already had your eyes on someone. Someone who was closer to Daphne than she could ever imagine.

“Sister, I have been looking for you,” his voice made you shiver, tiny goosebumps revealing themselves on the surface of your skin. His slightly messy brown hair and curious brown eyes wandered up and down on you, studying every inch of your body shamelessly as he joined beside Daphne, making you feel flustered under his intense gaze. “I don’t think we have met before,” he spoke to you finally, for the first time ever, reaching for your hand to leave a soft kiss on your silky gloves as you formally introduce yourself. “What a beautiful name,” he smiled confidently, a trait that seemed to radiate through his whole presence, almost knocking you over.

“Interestingly we have met before,” you added, trying to avert the subject, before you felt overwhelmed by a simple compliment to your name, which your parents decided on and basically had nothing to do with you. “But then you always seem busy when I visit,” the confusion across his face was evident, trying to organise the little pieces of the puzzle he seemed to be missing.

“My apologise, I don’t seem to remember and I’m sure I would have remembered such a pretty sight” he shook his head with a smile that sent your heart into overdrive. His words made you feel 20 pounds lighter, but instead of letting the compliment get to you, offering him a small smile, you continued the conversation confidently.

“Don’t you worry about it.I usually only catch a glimpse of you as I pass through the hall,” you lied. In reality you caught yourself not once staring at the man as he worked in his office and your steps halted just in the right spot to take a moment to admire his handsome features.

“I’m certainly glad to have officially met you,” he replied with a proud smirk across his face, leaving you gazing at him for a moment longer than it was deemed appropriate. The moment was quickly interrupted by Daphne who seemed to feel slightly out of place, but before she could have said anything, Benedict joined your circle, quickly dragging Anthony away who endlessly apologised, before following his brother.

“Hmm,” you heard Daphne, slightly lost in her thoughts. “And so, she said no to marriage,” she stated with a wicked smile.

“Whatever do you mean?” you asked furrowing in confusion.

“I might be younger, but I’m not an idiot. I saw the way you looked at my dear brother,” she watched you eagerly with a sceptical gaze.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” you replied casually, trying to disguise your embarrassment, which only confirmed Daphne’s suspicion.

“If that makes you feel better, I would gladly be your sister-in-law,” she chuckled loudly at the astonished expression on your face.

“Daphne!” you tried to scold her, but deep down you were imagining a future with the eldest Bridgerton, shamelessly planning each and every single detail of your shared life.

Throughout the evening you have caught Anthony’s eyes on you not once, shamelessly watching you as you danced with the most eligible men of the evening. You wished he was to ask you to dance with him, but he never attempted. He forgot his eyes on you at all times, making you feel as if you were a unique jewellery, one that everyone admired, but when it came to actions, he has taken none.

You walked out to the terrace with a glass of champagne in hand, watching the dark blue, night sky covered in a sea of stars. It was a beautiful evening, although slightly colder than you initially expected. Gently rubbing your skin, you tried to get rid of the small goosebumps that started spreading all over your body. You knew it would have been smarter to go back inside, but it was a slightly suffocating feeling, smiling at everyone, dancing with every other person. Whilst you enjoyed it, it was certainly exhausting.

Feeling two cold hands on each side of your arms, you jumped in the least lady-like manner, before they were replaced by a warm material. “You scared me,” you breathed, holding your hand in front of your chest, before you pulled the two sides of Anthony’s tuxedo coat together, enjoying the warmness engulfing you. “Thank you, you shouldn’t have-,” however before you could have finished your sentence, he interrupted you.

“I still don’t understand how I didn’t see you,” he spoke as he leaned against the terrace fence, gazing up at the sky. The confusion across his face earned a small smile from you as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Sometimes you don’t see what’s right in front of you,” you replied as he turned around, watching your hand rest on his shoulder, before you quickly removed it, hoping he didn’t think you meant to be disrespectful. However, the playful grin playing in the corner of his lips reassured you, making you smile just as well.

From that night there wasn’t a day you didn’t meet in his house or he didn’t come over to yours with an excuse, even though he needed none, your mother was delighted to see the Viscount in her house. Although he didn’t make it official that he was courting you, it was a known fact. He had his eyes on you and he made sure everyone knew of his unspoken intentions.

But Anthony was also a man of freedom. He had to take over the Bridgerton household, he had no place to object, but the freedom he practiced in his personal life was a necessity. You thought your relationship was going in the right direction as he courted you and you accepted his advances. However, after months he seemed as if he still had no intention of proposing to you, whilst he still kept other men as far away as he could from you.

You were tired of waiting. You didn’t want to marry just yet, but you have been waiting for his proposal for the longest of time and his indecisive manners made you doubt his intentions. Of course, you voiced your concerns to Daphne, who concocted a brilliant plan to make his brother jealous. Or so you thought it was brilliant.

As the next ball came and you walked inside the room with an innocent smile, dressed as beautifully as never before, many men gazed at your beauty, lips parting in astonishment. Surely, you enjoyed the attention, especially the one whose eyes seemed to burn holes into your body. But you didn’t look at him. You decided that if he couldn’t take your relationship a step further, then you would pay no attention to him.

“Miss, would you like to dance?” you heard from behind you as Benedict appeared in your vision with a mischievous smile. Although you were aware of Daphne’s plan, she was very secretive about the details.

“Daphne, isn’t it?” you asked, chuckling.

“Let’s just say I had no objection as soon as I heard that there was a way to irritate my brother,” he smirked proudly.

“Is this some twisted way to show your love towards your brother?” you asked, giggling as you felt Anthony’s eager eyes on you.

“I just enjoy seeing him sulking,” he shrugged carelessly.

“I take no responsibilities for any consequences,” you pointed your index finger at him with a mocking seriousness.

“Don’t you worry, miss,” he chuckled as he took your hand in his and led you to the dance floor. Eager eyes watched the pair of you, amazed by the bravery Benedict showed, even though everyone was aware of Anthony’s interest in you.

“If eyes could kill, I would drop dead at this moment,” he laughed, taking a peek at his brother as he led you around the circle, the quartet playing a rather slow song.

“I certainly feel daggers piercing through my back,” you snickered at the absurd situation.

“My brother means well, he is just an idiot,” he added.

“I wish I could object. I mean against the idiocy, of course,” you replied casually earning a heartfelt laughter from Benedict.

“Surely, he will open his eyes now,” he tried to reassure you which earned a sceptical look from you.

“I thought we had just established that he was an idiot,” you raised a questioning brow.

“I certainly think they are mutually inclusive,” he scoffed, earning an eye roll from you.

As the song stopped, Anthony walked up to you with a stern look and serious expression painted across his face, holding his hand out to you. You raised a questioning brow, before you placed your hand in his, letting him take you into the sea of people.

“What was that all about?” he asked as he pulled your body flash against him, his chest pressing against yours. Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness, his proximity clouding your mind. You could feel your body move to the rhythm of the music, but it didn’t register in your head.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you breathed, completely engulfed in his scent.

“Why were you dancing with my brother?” he asked in a stern voice, pulling you out of the mist covering your mind. You certainly didn’t like his tone, nor did you like the way he looked at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You never ask me to dance with you nor am I engaged to you. I can dance whomever I would like to,” you replied with a straight face, hiding all your emotions.

“You know how important you are to me. Don’t play such games with my brother,” he hissed in frustration.

“Would you like me to play it with someone else?” you asked, feeling as if you were playing with fire, waiting for the moment he’d had enough.

“You very well know that’s not what I meant. You know of my feelings for you,” he groaned in anger, feeling useless, unable to find how to solve this problem.

“Do I? Have you ever expressed them clearly? As far as I know, we are just a man and woman in a close friendship,” you shrugged as the song finished and tried to pull away from him. However, he didn’t let you.

“There is no friendship between women and men,” he replied, clearly dissatisfied with your answer.

“We are acquaintances then,” you scoffed as you removed his hand from your waist and turned around, walking away from him. It felt as if your lungs were about to explode, as if you couldn’t breathe. The fact that he dared to say he had feelings for you when he clearly chose his freedom over you made you feel more upset than you wished to be.

“Where are you going?” you heard his voice as you headed towards the exit, trying to get some air into your lungs. “Where the hell are you going?” he tried again, his tone more frustrated this time.

“None of your business, Bridgerton,” you hissed in anger.

“B-Bridgerton?” he questioned, slightly stuttering, clearly astonished by your choice of name.

“That’s your name,” you replied with a groan as you headed down the stairs, grasping the side of your dress as the chilly weather hit your warm skin unexpectedly.

“Just stop for a second and let’s talk,” he attempted to catch your wrist, but you pulled it away just in time.

“I don’t want to talk to you, Bridgerton. You are the last person I want to see,” you scoffed.

“Surely, that’s not true,” he argued.

“You had months to talk to me, don’t come looking for me now,” you replied, but before you could have comprehended what was happening, Anthony got hold of your wrist and dragged you behind the building, away from the praying eyes, closing your escape route with his palms against the wall on each side of yours.

None of you spoke up, both of you studied one another as if waiting for what the other would say. You had the time to admire his handsome features, his messy hair that resembled more of a bird's nest as the wind blew it in all kinds of directions in his hurried steps.

“Why did you do this?” he asked, his tone finally calm and collected.

“I wanted to see your reaction,” you confessed, not even feeling guilty.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he frowned at your words.

“I thought there was something between you and me. I thought it was more than a friendship. I honestly believed you felt more. But you never attempted to talk about the future, you never wanted to discuss marriage, you never even mentioned wanting a family. I was certain that you would never look at me as a lady. I would always just be a friend,” you scoffed with a small, pained smile in the corner of your lips.

“What are you talking about?” his confusion sat clearly across his face. “I always tell you how madly I miss you when I can’t be around you. I keep saying how I wish to be near you more often. I couldn’t be clearer about my intentions,”

“You see, it’s still not clear to me. What are your intentions exactly?” you asked, cruelly ignoring his previous words.

“Surely, you understand,” he scoffed in disbelief.

“No, I don’t,” you replied, shaking your head.

“I- I just,” the stuttering mess he has become gave you the answer to your questions.

“You see, Bridgerton, you can’t even get yourself to say it,” you heaved a deep sigh and pushed his arm away from the brick wall, heading back towards the entrance. However, before you could have taken another step, he caught your wrist and pulled you back against the wall, his body pressing against you, the cold bricks making you shiver. You could feel his breath on your lips, one of his hands on your waist. You have heard so much about that first kiss and even though you knew it was wrong, that it shouldn’t happen, you waited in utter anticipation.

Anthony tried to control himself, knowing how important you were to him, but the proximity between you clouded his mind as he abruptly closed the gap between you, attaching his lips to yours, hungrily exploring the new territory.

It was wrong, so wrong, but the moment was bittersweet. The kiss was sweet and passionate, one you couldn’t even imagine in your wildest of dreams and you couldn’t even care about the consequences if anyone saw you.

The shock across his face as pulled away from you scared you for a mere second. “I sincerely apologise, I have no idea what came over me,” he tried to take a step back, but you got hold of his arm.

“Why did you kiss me?” you asked, still under the influence of his actions.

“Because I love you. Because I wish to marry you. I want you to be my wife,” he breathed in a sudden confidence. You gently slapped your hands against your lips, his words surprising you, making you feel as if it was a dream.

A small smile spread across your face. “You do?” you asked, uncertainty lacing your voice.

“I would like nothing more,” he rushed to add.

“Is that a proposal?” you asked, chuckling, but what came next was something you didn’t expect.

He dropped down on one knee, pulling a tiny, blue box out of his pocket, opening the lid as he looked up at you, admiring your astonished expression. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?” he asked, his eyes full of hope.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you shouted excitedly, jumping in his neck, engulfing him in a hug, his broad shoulders barely fitting your embrace.

“Thank you,” he chuckled happily as he placed the ring on your finger, not expecting the quick peck you placed on his lips in the process. He stood up, wrapping his arms around your waist, before he lifted you up from the ground and spun you around with a happy laughter.

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[charlotte-headcanons]

Hey! How have ypu been? 2,3,6,7,9,15 Who else but Monty (Kata, Brulee, Peros too :D) yeah it's a big order!

Phew, that one sure took a while! But everything for you, friend 💕💕 We're alright, hope you've been well too! ✨

Some practicalities first: We decided to organize this answer by characters, for maximum space to go into detail on each headcanon! Some headcanons pertain to our modern AU rather than to the One Piece canon as we found these headcanons worked better for a particular prompt: we'll indicate those at the start of each bullet point!

Send us a number and a character and we'll post headcanons!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: Mont D'Or is a librarian by passion and a prosecutor by profession. He opened up and manages his own library in the early mornings and late evenings, but in-between that, he works on court cases. He might be overworked, and is definitely a workaholic but he hardly ever slacks off on either of his careers; and he's notorious for being professional, convincing, and very attached to every case. Highly principled unless Mama orders him to do something for her, he refuses to prosecute those he doesn't believe should be prosecuted, and for those he wants to face justice - he will get so heated that he might get reprimanded by judges for yelling or by cops and detectives for joining their investigations uninvited. His sister, Galette, is his secretary, and she follows him around everywhere, helping out however much she can!

3. Drinking headcanon

Mont D'Or... might have a bit of an alcohol problem. It's not that he gets drunk often... but he does drink regularly. Essentially, every time his siblings piss him off, he takes a sip, so you can imagine how many sips accumulate throughout the day. His prefer drink is red dry wine and he mostly drinks alone, without witnesses, not to give a bad example! To get really drunk, he would have to drink a lot; but if he does get drunk, he mostly gets more explosive than usual or somewhat lagged out, processing all information input slower than normally.

6. Musical headcanon

In Mont D'Or's eyes, the main function music has is to help him either focus or unwind. For both of these roles, he enjoys classical music most - think especially something akin to Wagner. He despises loud music and prefers instrumental pieces, although he is also an opera enthusiast. His guilty pleasure, discovered quite recently, could also be lo-fi kind of music! It calms him down a little, even though he doesn't like to be caught listening to it, as his expressed music-related opinions are overall quite snobbish.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

Mont D'Or would gladly cook if he had the time for it; but being as busy as he is, he is forced to depend on others and on ordering food throughout each day. His tastes encompass rather fancy cuisine: he adores charcuterie boards and seafood, refuses to eat fast food, adds cheese to pretty much everything that is remotely acceptable like an apple pie and calls it an acquired taste. Besides that, he always likes to have a cookie with his black coffee; considering how much coffee he drinks every day, that is a lot of cookies consumed!

9. Childhood headcanon

As a child, Mont D'Or was known as just a nerd. He was way more shy and less aggressive than he is now; it was only over time, having been ridiculed by some siblings for his unconventional (in this family) interests, that he toughened up and learned to stand up for himself. Ever since he learned to read, Mont D'Or was a frequent visitor to all libraries of Totto Land. At the time, there weren't that many, nor did they have impressive book collections, so soon enough, Mont D'Or started reading books way above his age target group, and by the time he came of age, he was disappointed to find out that he has already read every book currently available within Big Mom's territory. At first, little Mont D'Or wasn't quite sure what he can offer to his family of murderous pirates: he wasn't strong nor all that ruthless, and his strengths could be found rather in the areas that wouldn't be that useful for sailing or plundering. He also felt lonely before Galette came along, and he could most often be found alone, or around Compote, who had a soft spot for her smart little brother. Eventually, Mont D'Or figured out that strategy and organization were the areas where his family could need him, though; from there, he moved on to transform from a quiet nerd into a pillar of Big Mom Pirates’ planning.

15. School headcanon

Besides setting up many more libraries in Totto Land than it once had, Mont D'Or took it onto himself to kickstart a proper education system in his mother's territory. In the past, none of the Charlotte siblings went through formalized education, rather having to learn from experience or directly from Big Mom, other pirates, and from each other. Now, Mont D'Or makes sure that teachers are recruited to Totto, and at least basic schools (available universally) are established!

Modern AU: It is probably not surprising that at school, Mont D'Or would be a straight-A's student. Stellar at every test, he would however not be all that liked by the teachers due to his behavior problems. His temper and lack of respect for authority if the authority is wrong would both make him a troublesome student to get in conflict with. He'd absolutely correct the teachers on their mistakes, and if they dared refuse to acknowledge their faults... he would yell. 😔

Katakuri, Brulee, and Perospero under the cut!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: As we discussed in a previous post, Katakuri would definitely be every parent's dream child, aka a doctor and a lawyer in one! A neurologist and an advocate, Katakuri would be very close to burnout, and wouldn't really actively work in the law field anymore, not wanting to infringe on Mont D'Or's turf. He would definitely work too much, but telling him to rest would hardly be a solution: with his perfectionism, he would not be able to sleep unless his task was carried out well. He wouldn't like his job all that much, really, but he'd still keep it to continue supporting his younger or less talented siblings with his money; and not to disappoint his mother, of course.

3. Drinking headcanon

Katakuri refuses to drink alcohol, finding every possible excuse to not be pressured into it. First of all, he just doesn't want to show his mouth, lay down, or do something even more embarassing for anyone to see if he gets drunk. More importantly, though, he is scared of falling into an addiction as a coping method, so he prefers to just avoid the temptation altogether. If possible, he'd rather not be around drunk people, too!

6. Musical headcanon

Katakuri enjoys all kinds of music and has quite a diverse tastes, with some of his favorites coming from indie rock, metal, cute pixel music, grunge, and more. He is quite embarrassed to share the music he listens to, so when possible, he listens to it on headphones. When he's fully convinced that he's alone, he might sing a little or bob his head to the music he enjoys; if listening to songs around people, though, he'll keep a fully straight, unmoved face.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

As the supreme donut lover, Katakuri actually has a secret bucket list of all flavors of donuts he wants to try! He cares about the textures of food a lot, and generally prefers soft and chewy things. To set him apart from Luffy, Katakuri also doesn't really like meat, with few exceptions! Sometimes, Katakuri joins Perospero in his morning tea drinking sessions, and it was from his older brother that he learned to like his tea very sweet. As for cooking, he tried it as a child, but found to have little patience for it back then; now, he'd probably do way better if he tried to cook, but just like Mont D'Or, he just doesn't have the time!

9. Childhood headcanon

Katakuri is probably the Charlotte that changed the most since his early childhood. Before the Brulee incident, he was actually a rather lazy, even if talented, kid. To get him to train, an incentive of donuts was always necessary; and having been highly influenced by Daifuku and Oven, he also used to be a bit of a troublemaker. If anyone made fun of him or annoyed him, they would always see Katakuri throwing hands - he was far more eruptive than now and didn't really care what others thought. Brulee getting hurt because of him, though, had a life-changing effect on him; and it effectively molded him into the hardworking, serious, troubled person that he is now.

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: Despite starting off as a troublemaker who slept through the boring classes, these days Katakuri is a model student, and many teachers marvel at his transformation. He is just as good in sciences as in sports, and often represents his school in various competitions, regularly winning too! Although he gets A's in everything, his favorite school subjects remain the humanities. After school, he revises the lesson material for exactly an hour every day, but doesn't need to study much before tests, having a great memory and a kind of sixth sense for filtering out important information. Despite not wanting to be in the spotlight, he's very popular with fellow students and a lot of classmates have secret crushes on him, girls or guys!

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: As we headcanon, one of Brulee's main hobbies is tending to her herbal garden, and she knows a lot about the healing properties of plants! Naturally, then, she would gladly choose pharmacy as her career path: the calm atmosphere combined with helping others would fit her vibe perfectly. Besides that, she would also work voluntarily babysitting the children of her siblings; the kids would always be kind of scared of her at first, but soon enough they would outright cry whenever she would have to leave even just for a moment.

3. Drinking headcanon

Brulee drinks alcohol rarely and in small amounts; mostly as an addition to a good dinner. She is an extreme lightweight, so anything more than one glass of her favorite white wine results in her becoming way more clumsy than usual and inevitably getting a next-morning headache. To avoid this, she makes sure to never drink more than she knows she can handle!

6. Musical headcanon

Another classical music lover, Brulee would enjoy something akin to Schubert's songs most! Even though she isn't the best at it, with her voice being just a bit too nasal and too scratchy, Brulee likes to sing (especially ballads and lullabies!) and often hums while working. Having a bit more free time than most of her siblings, Brulee also managed to learn some instruments, albeit she only ever stuck to the basics and simple pieces. The piano is the instrument she plays rather well, so she can teach her younger siblings how to play a few easy songs if they so please; very recently, she also picked up the violin, and she enjoys practicing it although, so far, the sounds she can make hardly resemble what she would like to hear.

7. Food/Cooking headcanon

Brulee cooks a lot and enjoys doing that a bunch! She's quite experimental and healthy with her recipes, and prefers salty foods as well as meat or soups. As a result, she is one of the few bastions that keep some of her siblings from succumbing to dessert-only diets. Once in a while, she bakes bread too; since she always cooks way more food than she needs, she often ends up sharing or donating it! You can almost always smell something cooking up in her hut; even if Totto Land has so many high-level chefs, Brulee still likes to make her own, homemade food herself.

9. Childhood headcanon

As a child, Brulee was much more anxious than she is now. She was always a bit awkward and clumsy, and kind of bullied for her witchy appearance by the other children in ports and in Totto Land. Over time, she learned to embrace herself, though; in the stories her older siblings told her, she always identified with the witches, and she later proceeded to amplify this image of herself as much as possible, instead of resenting it!

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: Brulee would be a mediocre student, who'd be kind of picked on, at least until Katakuri got all set on defending her! Her favorite school subject would be history, and she'd also enjoy some parts of biology - though she'd much rather learn about plants and animals than the human insides. Always a sweetheart, Brulee would enjoy secretly making her classmates happy with little anonymous gifts; each birthday or Valentine's Day, anyone could count on at least one card from a secret friend, who everyone would suspect to be her, as she isn't all that great at hiding.

2. Job headcanon

Modern AU: Perospero would be an interior designer, but really, one of a kind. Even if just designing a chair, he'd see his work as art and himself as an artist, and he'd act accordingly. Cracker Any architect unlucky enough to have to work with him would end up in despair as he'd blatanly ignore the technical limits and capacities of a building for the aesthetic. Likewise, his clients would have to be prepared for many unexpected decisions and costs: Perospero would not take orders from them but always stick to what he thinks looks good, no matter how intricate or expensive. Effectively, the only clients brave enough to employ him more than once would be the rich and extravagant ones: those would appreciate his work immensely, while anyone remotely more practical would have to complain.

3. Drinking headcanon

Perospero parties and gets drunk quite often, although he exclusively drinks overly sweet cocktails and never drinks outside of a social context! When he has too much to drink, he gets either hyper, horny, or annoying - or all three at once - depending on his mood. Whichever it is, he also loses all understanding of personal space, gets a lot more touchy, and much more likely to lick everyone and everything. At the end of the night, he has the tendency to pretend that he's much more drunk than he actually is, too, hoping that someone will carry him home like the princess he wants to be; though most of the time, it just ends up with Daifuku pulling him back by the leg.

6. Musical headcanon

Perospero loves to sing, especially publically, and he's surprisingly good at it! damn I really got a stroke first time I heard him sing, like, my man, how can you sing so well with an entire tongue out wtf Perospero explain. His preferred repertoire of music to sing includes all sorts of songs from musicals; as for music to listen to, he ranges between musicals and hyperpop, or any music sweet and bubbly on the outside but disturbing and horror-like as it develops!

7. Food/cooking headcanon

Perospero does not cook on principle, insisting that they have the chefs for it. His diet as a whole is downright atrocious; he adds sugar to quite literally everything, acts dramatically, as if he was poisoned if forced to eat anything not sweet enough, and mostly lives off candy. His 'tea' can hardly be called that anymore, considering that it contains more syrups and sugar than tea itself. Basically, Compote gets chills whenever she sees him eat and continuously marvels at how the fuck he is still alive.

9. Childhood headcanon

Having to take care of his siblings early on, Perospero didn't get much of a careless childhood. Once Linlin was unable to keep all children with her on the Rocks Pirates ship, by the time he was 8, he was put in charge of all the younger siblings she left in a port (while Compote was looking over the ones that stayed with Linlin on the ship). Perospero looks back at his childhood fondly, though; he liked ordering his brothers and sisters around, liked being in charge, and especially loved being admired and looked up to as the eldest sibling role model. Once Katakuri became a new favorite of the family, Perospero was so jealous and grumpy for a while that he even went through a rebellious phase of trying to run away; he came back less than a day later though, having cried his eyes out once missing his family and homesickness kicked in, never to try to leave ever again.

15. School headcanon

Modern AU: At school, Perospero would definitely focus on socializing way more than on learning. Among the teachers, he would be known as a smart but lazy kind of student, doing the bare minimum for most classes, though excelling in art and music. He would have mostly girl friends, essentially running his own mean girls group; together with them, he'd always come up with excuses to not exercise during P.E. so that his looks don't get ruined and so that he can just spend the time gossiping about the guys instead. If someone got on his bad side, Perospero would also not be above bullying them, although he wouldn't do that in a conventional way - rather, he'd just make his victims severely uncomfortable, getting way to close, switching between flirty and dangerous tones, and making them feel trapped before just backing off and laughing. An absolute menace to society, even in a modern AU 😔

If you managed to get through all of this, we salute you, soldier 🎖️Hope you enjoyed, though! ✨ It was sure fun to come up with. Thanks for the ask! 💕

[idontlikeem]

For the ask game, perhaps "sleep intimacy" and "royal AU"? I love your ideas and writing!

you can find the fic tropes mashup game here!

ahhh anon thank you so much!

i had a lot of fun with this one—i so rarely dream up ideas where at least one of them isn't still a hockey player, so this was a blast!

So for this one, I think our setting is the Kingdom of Canada, a modern-day semi-constitutional monarchy that wrested its independence from Britain at some point and promptly established its own royal family.

Canada is known for its educational institutions—so much so that a young man from Siberia, from a good family but not a great one, might travel across land and sea to the capital of Canada for university, as opposed to attending one of the myriad of options in Moscow.

Zhenya likes Canada. The elected officials mean the people are represented, more or less, and the Crown is less prone to the wild excesses of Russian’s ruling class (although, to be fair, Zhenya is not sure how much of that is the absolute nature of the monarchy, and how much of it is down to Sasha just being...Sasha). The King and Queen are fair, and kind, and the Crown Prince…

Well. Zhenya met him at school, in a math class they were both taking out of requirement and not interest, and he was immediately infatuated.

Sidney is kind, and quiet until you get to know him, and perhaps a little too serious, but—he’s got the weight of an entire country on his shoulders, after all. It’s understandable.

Zhenya still thinks he needs to laugh more.

After graduation, Zhenya had always planned to return to Russia, to take his shiny new degree and put it to use, but when he talked about his plans with Sidney, and Sidney had looked at him like his world was crumbling and said, what if you stayed here instead, and you could come work for me, well not for me, for the palace, and you could keep going to school, like you’ve talked about—

Zhenya breaks his father’s heart, when he announces his intention to stay in Canada and keep going with his studies, but his mother understands, he thinks. Even if she didn’t, Zhenya was never going to say no to Sidney, not when he really asked for something. He so rarely asks for anything.

And so Zhenya starts earning a salary. His official title is Personal Aide—what it means in practice is that he’s set up in a suite of rooms connected to Sidney’s through a shared sitting room. He has Sidney’s calendar on his phone, and he’s copied on all sorts of emails, but his main responsibility is essentially making sure Sidney doesn’t worry himself into an early grave (he’s already started on the grey hairs). Since this is something Zhenya has been doing since they met, he finds his job entirely unchallenging.

His educational path takes him to mostly self-study, with monthly meetings with his advisors, so he’s got plenty of time to stick to Sidney’s side during the days, and they spend quiet evenings together, Zhenya doing his research and Sidney reading through laws and proposals and letters, all the daily tedium involved in preparing to run a country. Sometimes they’ll go to dinner with friends from school, and Sidney’s occasionally whisked off to formal events that Zhenya’s not high-born enough to attend, but they’re together a lot.

And it’s in those quiet still evenings where Sidney starts to confide in Zhenya about his other expectations, the ones Zhenya hadn’t known about.

Canada’s constitution requires its monarch to be married. Zhenya had known this in the abstract; he’d been more focused on the fact that it explicitly stated that the nature of the marriage didn’t matter, meaning, Canada allowed same-sex unions (another reason he came here for school, although one he’d kept to himself) than what it meant for his friend Sidney.

Sidney hadn’t dated in school. It would have been impossible for him. He’d hooked up plenty, but it had been discreet enough that one would be forgiven for assuming the Crown Prince was entirely chaste.

Zhenya knows he’s not. It’s a knowledge that burns him if he examines it too closely.

It is Sidney’s parents’ wish that he begin courting soon, Zhenya learns one night over hushed conversation; they’d like him to be settled and happy in his marriage before the throne is his, to minimize stress and provide him with solid support during the transition.

It makes sense. It makes all the sense in the world, Zhenya knows this. He just—hates it. He hates the idea of someone else staying up too late with Sidney, listening as he whispers out his fears and hopes and dreams. He hates the idea of someone else being the recipient of Sidney’s private smiles and rare, subtle little eyerolls when he’s bored and restless.

He doesn’t know what will happen to him, when Sidney meets someone he could love.

The suitors start making appearances at the more informal events Zhenya attends. Some of them seem fine, he supposes, but he doesn’t like the way they look Sidney over; as if they’re picturing him as a pretty thing to dangle off their arms. He doesn’t like the proprietary way they glance around the throne room, the familiarity with which they address the King and Queen.

He keeps quiet, though. It’s not his place. And if sometimes he notices the Queen watching him speculatively, well—that’s not his business either.

Luckily, Sidney sends them all home after no more than a day or two; the only ‘suitor’ that stays for longer is Sasha, and that’s because he’s not really there to try and woo Sidney, but had instead leapt at the trip as a chance to visit with Zhenya. Sidney had watched them greet each other with a small smile, and then proceeded to disappear for the entire week that Sasha was there. Zhenya had appreciated the time with his friend, but he’d hoped they could get to know each other.

Once Sasha leaves, Sidney is strangely cautious, withdrawn, but he soon returns to his normal self, and Zhenya shrugs and puts it from his head. There’s a new suitor expected any day, after all.

This one doesn’t take, either. Nor does the next one, or the one after that, or the one after that, and Zhenya...wonders, a little.

But he’s held Sidney’s confidence for years now. The increasingly pointed looks from the Queen, the King’s efforts to single Zhenya out and get to know him—none of that means a thing if it’s not what Sidney wants, and if Sidney wanted Zhenya, surely he must know he could have had him from almost the day they met?

I’d be so much better for you than any of them, Zhenya thinks to himself as he watches the second son of some North American dignitary squire Sidney about the gardens. His hand is too low on Sidney’s back. Zhenya turns the page on the book he’s pretending to read.

It would be wrong, to use what he’s learned of Sidney over the years to try and win his heart. It would be—dishonest, a betrayal of their friendship. Zhenya could never do that to Sidney. Plus, he’s from a good family and not a great one, and good isn’t enough for the Crown Prince. Isn’t good enough for Sidney, who is kind, and quiet until you get to know him, and perhaps a little too serious, but—

Zhenya loves him. And he can’t do anything about it.

[captainbeverlycrusher]

An Open Letter to the Star Trek Community

To the Star Trek Community,

I write this from a place of deep respect, gratitude and compassion, and with hope that what I have to say will be received in good faith and be heard.

I am an immigrant woman of colour who found Star Trek at a time when I was at my lowest and stuck in what seemed like perpetual darkness, and it was this wonderful franchise and its powerful message which uplifted me and brought me back into the light so that today I can truly say that I am at my strongest. As such, Star Trek’s positive influence in my life has been no small thing. Star Trek has taught me to be the captain of my life, to reach for the stars, to stand up for what is right no matter the cost, and, above all, to be brave and bold.

And so, in the spirit of boldly going, I humbly call on ALL white members of the Star Trek Community — creators, platform curators, prominent fans and figures, including and especially Star Trek cast members, past and present — who believe in the underlying mission and vision of Star Trek to formally denounce all forms of racism and bigotry and those who uphold such abhorrent beliefs; I call on you to condemn the actions of those who have harmed Black and Indigenous people, and all People of Colour (BIPOC); and I call on you to strive to do more and do better for the sake of BIPOC in both the Star Trek community and in your own lives who have been subjected to racism. Finally, I encourage you to urge your supporters in this community to do the same, particularly those who are now finally waking up to the injustices perpetrated against BIPOC.

I am, of course, aware that the official Star Trek entity released a statement in this vein recently. I know many of you have expressed one way or another your support for the Black Lives Matter movement. I see you. It’s a good start. But it is not enough. I need each of you who hold so much influence within this community to do this, to say once and for all that you will not condone racism and anti-Blackness from your supporters, fans and followers any longer. It is important for this to happen.

I know you support the vision of the great Gene Roddenberry and the powerful philosophy of Star Trek and what it stands for. I know you believe in these words as much as I do:

“Star Trek was an attempt to say that humanity will reach maturity and wisdom on the day that it begins not just to tolerate, but take a special delight in differences in ideas and differences in life forms.”

But many white supporters within the Trek community truly do not share these sentiments, and they have proven this time and again, especially as they have belittled and driven fans of colour like me away instead of putting the mission of Star Trek into practice and welcoming us with open arms. Both on-and-offline, there are those who have insulted and degraded BIPOC involved in the Trek community— and not just fans but creatives, actors, and notable figures of colour alike. We have been treated as inferior and dismissed.

I have seen and witnessed it with my own eyes. I have endured this myself and I cannot explain to you how hurtful it has been for many of us. I am a fan who has experienced so much harm from many white people I have come across in Trek spaces, at conventions and events, even among those I had considered friends, and for it to come from within a franchise that promotes love, hope and acceptance, it has been devastating. What I once looked to as a safe haven no longer is.

I can only speak for myself and from my own experiences. And based on my experience, my call to action here is completely necessary. Because something I never say aloud, something I constantly have to process and reprocess in therapy is that 6 years ago when I was 24, the night before I first met my Trek heroes, I cried bitter tears because I felt that they would not accept me because I wasn’t white, that I was unlovable by even the most amazing people because I was not white like them. 24 years old. A grown adult. And I felt that way. So many white Trek supporters contributed to making me feel that way every time they overtly and subtly implied that their whiteness made them superior. I have remained silent about this and numerous other incidents for many years, but living in silence has only served to intensify the painful experiences I’ve had, and so I share this to stress the urgency with which this community-wide issue needs to be addressed. We cannot allow damage like this to continue towards BIPOC in this community.

Racism destroys the soul. Racism is why I hurt myself for so long and why so many white supporters have harmed fans of colour like me, despite their claims that they believe in all that Star Trek stands for. Racism hurts us all. This is just a small part of my story. Imagine how many more there are like it or even worse. As white people, you will never experience racism and you may not see the abominable treatment BIPOC in the Trek community encounter, but it is happening.

With the Black Lives Matter protests gaining momentum worldwide, it couldn’t be more clear that now is not the time to find the middle ground on issues like this, because there is none when it comes to racism. Either you are against it or not. And I promise you, the Trek community does not need the support of people who go out of their way to justify any and all racist acts, because as we can clearly see, even the smallest racial microaggressions and biases can ultimately lead to murder. The desire to keep the peace in the fandom and franchise is not more important than Black lives. Especially because the truth is, as far as I have observed, there has never been actual peace.

We are presently witnessing a global reckoning in which many are finally starting to acknowledge the existing ways racism and white supremacy are upheld. As a community that claims to value all beings and embrace all differences, it only makes sense for Star Trek and all its community members to lead the way to a better future in the entertainment and creative industries and beyond, and to start doing so by looking within ourselves and our own backyard. We MUST clean up this community so that all People of Colour can truly feel safe and welcomed and be embraced and celebrated in every Trek space.

As I issue my call to action, I urge you to consider doing the following:

First, in particular for prominent white cast and creatives, please let the Trek community know where you stand. If you have not already done so, please let people know that you will not tolerate any further bigotry and racist behaviour from anyone. Please let your Black fans and all fans of colour know that you are with us. And please don’t mince words.

Amplify the voices of BIPOC within this community. So many of us are constantly silenced and drowned out and it is time for us to be heard. Our presence only enhances the Trek community. Uplift and embrace us. We matter.

If you manage any online Trek-related spaces and platforms, it is your responsibility to moderate and remove speech that is racist against BIPOC. It is imperative for you to enforce stricter commenting policies and do all that you can to protect BIPOC from further harm. And for those participating in these spaces, it is equally your duty to call out and report any such speech you encounter.

Educate your fellow white Trekkies who don’t yet understand why this is important. BIPOC have expended a lot of labor attempting to do so already but we have been dismissed, ignored, and cast aside. The onus is now on you to ease us of this burden and do the work given your positions of influence.

Hold yourselves and other white people in your Trek networks accountable to BIPOC community members. Make this part of your norm so that it becomes second nature to you, especially so these issues don’t ever fade into the background as they have often done in the past. This is an opportunity to improve and get it right.

Continue supporting the Black Lives Matter movement even after it stops trending. Visit https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/ to find helpful resources, make donations, sign petitions, and to get more involved in this work beyond the Trek community. This work is ongoing. It is lifelong.

Committing to doing every one of these would be small yet meaningful steps in the ongoing struggle for racial justice and it would make a significant difference. So with great respect and love, I implore you to use your power and privilege to do this for BIPOC, for yourselves, for all of us.

Stand up with and speak up for all BIPOC fans, friends and colleagues, far and wide. Be loud about it.

Be as loud and unrelenting as LeVar Burton. He has always been at the helm of this struggle, has always been upfront about it, and I love and admire him for it. Follow his lead.

Naturally, fear courses through me as I write all this, but I think of Gates McFadden, a great hero of mine, who once rocked the boat and spoke up against the sexism and racism she witnessed while working on TNG and was actually fired for it. If she can do that, then I think I can do this regardless of the risk. Because I know what I’m asking for and ultimately fighting for is right. Because what we can no longer deny is that lives are at stake. Black lives. And they matter.

Now it is up to you to do your part. Boldly go, in hope and with love.

And may you Live Long and Prosper.

— Originally published on Women at Warp

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 02

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: you guys have been so extremely sweet with this new work i don’t even know how to thank you!! thank you so so much for supporting my writing, it always makes my day. i hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N was laying in her new room right stuck in between the guest and Gwen’s bedroom. It was a rather bleak room if she was being honest. The walls were all white in exception to one of them that like the entrance was covered in floor to ceiling windows. There was little to no furniture in exception for a king sized bed, a white chest of drawers and a wall embedded wardrobe where she had put most of her clothes already. 

She wondered why a man of such income would like to be surrounded by such bleak colours. From what she had noticed his whole place was decorated in shades of grey and black with the occasional beige and white. Sure, it looked lovely, sleek even, something worth of being in the cover of an architectural magazine, but it wasn’t a home. A home had warmth, lived in sheets, walls and floors, this house however was ... was ghosted, almost as if no one lived in it. 

Rolling onto the comfortable white sheets, she took the contract into her hands, looking at the lettering on the cover itself. Y/N fully understood why he wanted all his employees to have a binding legal document, what she didn’t expect was to see the first line constricted her breathing. “The individual agrees not to follow any legal action against the employer in any circumstance”, it read. This was definitely not what was she expecting. 

     - Y/N? - she shoved the contract under her sheets as Gwen’s voice sounded through the room, her head peaking through the opening of the door. - What are you up to?

    - Not much. How are you? Do you enjoy the new room? - Sebastian had put her in a different room from his, something she had expected but still found odd. They were to be married after all and despite it all being a business move and transaction, it was still a valid marriage. However, none of them seemed to eager to at least try and create some chemistry. 

    - Boring. I need a favour, though. Please and when you decide remember you’re my oldest and best friend since we were babies. - Y/N knew that face and she did not like it. It was the same face that got them both stranded in the Carribean because she just needed to get to know some guy from the opposite terminal before catching the plane. However, she also knew Gwen to be a great driving force of making her do things she didn’t exactly want to do, so she decided to nod her head yes, already overwhelmed with the move and the contract. - I need to head out for a few minutes, could you cover for me?

     - What ... where are you going? 

     - I have a date. - she cheekily entered the room, closing the door behind her after checking if someone was in the hall. The redhead sat in front of her, a childish grin on her face as if she were in high school going out with the captain of the football team. - And he’s really sweet.

     - Gwen, you’re engaged. - the big sapphire in her left hand’s third finger was all she could look at. Of course Y/N wanted to be happy for Gwen, she really did and she really shouldn’t put too much effort in the thought that she was going to get married, after all it was just a strategy, but her mind was screaming at her that it wasn’t right. - Don’t you wanna at least give it a go before you completely give up?

     - No, I wanna go out with Chuck. - she took her engagement ring off, placing it on Y/N’s white sheets. - Please cover for me, please.

     - What if Sebastian notices you’re gone?

    -  He won’t because you’ll cover for me, besides, he probably won’t even leave his office. Please, Y/N? - Y/N sighed. What was the use of saying no if she was gonna leave any other way? Besides, if she were right and Sebastian didn’t leave his office, it should be alright. Losing whatever piece of resolve she has in her, she let out a soft smile, nodding her head yes which led the redhead to hug her with a death like grip. - It’ll one be for a few hours. I owe you one.

     -  I’m pretty sure you’ve own me one since we were one. - Gwen let out a celebratory chuckle before grabbing her bag and leaving Y/N on her own once again. 

The whole house was constantly silent, almost as if all the employees were scared of making a sound which when it came to the demanding presence of their boss, she wondered if that was the case. The only disruption of silence that could be heard was the soft rain against the windows which was enough to lull her to sleep. She would’ve possibly remained asleep if it hadn’t been for a slight knock interrupting her slumber. She took her head off her pillow, confused as if she had slept for so long, Gwen had returned. Another knock made her get from the bed, sleep still in her eyes as she opened the door to come face to face with one of the dressed up employees. 

    - Miss Y/N, dinner is served.

    - Just Y/N please. 

    - I believe it would be more of Miss Forrest’s comfort if you were to inform her dinner is ready. 

    - Oh ... Miss Forrest ... she’s, she’s not feeling very well. 

    - Should we call a doctor?

    - No, it’s just ... you know, that time of the month. - Y/N had the most nervous smile on her face, but as the man heard that specific term, he scrunched his face for a few seconds before returning to his normal formal and stoic posture. Maybe she had gotten away with it. - I don’t think she’ll want any dinner.

    - Oh, alright, would you still like to have dinner, Miss Y/N? - he questioned. She was rather hungry, after all, all she had before coming in was dinner and after sleeping she always awake up feeling like snacking, therefore dinner sounded like a good idea. 

She followed the man into the kitchen that similarly to the rest of the house had the same simple yet modern design to it. The floors were in the same shade of marbled black with few specks of grey, the walls were white with a black wooden backsplash and one of them had the same full amount of windows which gave a beautiful view of the Upper East Side. There were various balconies connected to the walls but the biggest one was in the middle where some chairs were laid. 

Y/N watched as a woman, probably middle aged, set the table. Just like the man who had brought her to the kitchen, she was dressed in sleek, working clothes with her hair held in a perfect bun up-do. 

     - I hope you like goat cheese and bistro salad, m’am. - she set a beautifully prepared plate in front of Y/N as she took a seat in the table. - I can prepare you something if you don’t like it, m’am.

     - No, it’s beautiful, thank you so much. - yes, she was used to living in some sort of high fashion style due to the environment she had brought up with but this, this was different. This was expensive in all sorts, from how the employees dressed, to the way the food was presented. However, Y/N noticed that instead of being surrounded by other people eating like it would normally occur at her prior home, she was instead surrounded by staff watching her eat, no Sebastian in sight. - Is Mr. Stan not joining us for dinner?

     - Oh no, m’am, Mr. Stan eats in his office. - the woman replied. 

     - What about you guys? Don’t you wanna eat? 

     - It’s fine, m’am. We’ll eat after you finish. 

     - Alright ... - Y/N pushed her plate slightly away from her, turning on her chair so she could face the two staff who were now staring at her as if she were any sort of threat. - Where me and Miss Forrest were raised, staff is treated just as well as family members. I don’t know what orders you follow from Mr. Stan but when you deal with me or Miss Forrest, you sit down and have dinner with us if you wish. 

The dinner went a bit better after she gained some company. The staff was sweet, very professional still but sweet nevertheless. After dinner and fighting a bit with the woman named Anna so she could help with the dishes, Y/N decided to walk around the house. Gwen still hadn’t returned and despite her countless messages sent to her, they were seen but not replied to. Thankfully, Sebastian hadn’t left his office as promised which meant she only had to lie whenever any member of staff would ask if she needed something. 

The penthouse was pretty much a regular place with more rooms than she could ever imagine with some being locked and others being open and perfectly decorated yet seemed to be non inhabited. However, what had sparked her interest was the very last room she checked. The room’s wall except for one were filled with book shelves which were filled itself with endless amounts of books. She looked around, wondering if someone was spying on her, before entering the room, her hands grabbing the first book she saw. The Great Gatsby. It sorta made her chuckle how that had been the first book she caught, the story of a wealthy man who lives by himself. The book itself was in rather good condition with the traditional blue cover with those unsettling eyes staring right back at her. She opened the book, her eyes going to the date of print making her realise what she was holding. April, 1925. A first edition. 

      - Looking for a good read, Miss Y/N? - she dropped the book out of surprise, not expecting the voice. Her head snapped in the sound’s direction, watching as Sebastian walked over to her, slowly crutching down to grab the book from the ground.

       - Are these all yours? - this was the biggest self collection of books she’d ever seen, it was somewhat hard for her to wrap around her head it belonged to a single person, specially first editions. 

       - My father made sure I got an expensive education. 

       - Have you read all of these? - her eyes widen at the mere thought of it. Just reading one shelf of books looked like it would take at least five years, at beast. 

       - Not all of them ... some are in Greek. - he couldn’t help but be entranced by her as she lowered her head to hide the small smile that settled itself on her lips. - Are you one for reading?

       - I majored in English Literature, reading was all I did for three years. 

       - Fits. - he put his hands on the pockets of his formal trousers. - You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Miss Y/N? 

       - I wouldn’t think of it, Mr. Stan. - Y/N wasn’t one for lying unless necessary, specially to someone who had a reputation for ignoring empathy and other human emotions. 

       - Where’s my fiancée, Miss Y/N? - the mere question knocked the air away from her. - And please do not use the same excuse you used with my staff. I know everything that goes on in this house and I know for a fact she’s not in her room. 

       - I ... I don’t know. 

       - I think you need to figure out where your loyalty lies, Miss Y/N. - he picked her chin, making sure she looked into his eyes. If there was something he knew was to intimidate someone with his gaze alone, however, she looked embarrassed to be caught in a lie rather than scared. - As my employee, you owe me your loyalty and the truth. 

     - My loyalty lies with Gwen ... not with you. - she took a step backwards. He sucked his teeth, arms crossed on his chest. - I don’t mean to disrespect you, Mr. Stan but ... Gwen’s my friend and my employee and I owe her my loyalty. 

     - You do realise that if Miss Forrest gets hurt it is you who’s gonna be held accountable. 

     - Please don’t be mad at Gwen. - she rubbed her arms. - She’s never really wanted to get married, at all, to no one. This is a bit of a change she has to adapt to.

     - Don’t flatter yourself, angel. Genevieve Forrest is not exactly the type of woman I’d personally chose to be with but I’m not being childish about it. If you wanna have a good time under my employment then you better reconsider telling me the truth.

taglist: @sideeffectsofyou​

[tea-and-spoons]

All About Accommodations 2: Working with (or without) disability services

While writing my first post about accommodations, I realized that I had enough information about actually working with the office of disability services to make an entire second post- so I did!  My original post about the basics of accommodations is over here: All About Accommodations

So hopefully your school’s office of disability services is fantastic and supportive and wonderful, and they happily meet all of your needs!  But in a lot of cases, it’s a little more complicated than that (I really don’t know why) so this post will be about things that can help.

I was super nervous and confused about disability support services when I first got sick, so one of my older friends took me to visit the office, just to meet the staff and learn about what they do.  It was nice to get to know the staff a little before I had to get into all the personal details of my health, and just get a feel for what goes on there.  Many places will have open office hours when you can just drop by and ask general questions too.

To start the process of registering for accommodation, there may be a form you fill out online, or you might just have to send an email.  Or go to the actual office to say, “Hi I want to register for accommodations, what’s my next step?”  Setting up accommodations is a process, so you’ll probably have at least one meeting with the people who work in this office to discuss possible accommodations.  At the meeting, they’ll ask you lots of questions about how your disability affects you, and talk about what accommodations are available.  They’ll also probably ask you about your classes to understand what you might need there.  I try to do something relaxing and confidence boosting (like listening to music!) before my meetings.  And not scheduling something directly after, so I have time to decompress.  For the meeting itself, I find it helps to write and bring a list of possible accommodations and things to discuss- it helps keep me from getting too upset and then either forgetting or backing down.  Remember, you have a legal right to reasonable accommodations, and you deserve to thrive in college!

You’ll also almost definitely need to submit some documentation (like a letter or test result) from a medical professional.  Which is really not fair for a variety of reasons, but that’s how it is right now:/  There might be specific guidelines for what your school needs for documentation, but generally if it says, “Lovely reader of this blog has xyz condition and requires these accommodations.  Signed, Medical Professional”, it should work.  

Unfortunately, not all accommodations offices are as wonderful and supportive as they should be, so you and/or the person providing your documentation may need to do some persuading.  This could mean having more detailed documentation, arranging a phone call between a supportive medical professional and the disability services office, or just being extremely persistent.  I did once get my mom to make an “angry parent phone call” as a last resort, and it worked, but I think your school will probably be grumpy if you go right to that.

So what happens if the official office of disability services totally fails you and denies your accommodations?  Don’t panic, you still have more options.

I haven’t personally done this, but I know you can file a formal grievance with your college and try to get the accommodations decision changed.  You can also meet with your dean, who is higher up in the chain of command than disability services and may be able to help you.

If all else fails, you may have better luck working out informal accommodations with individual professors.  But also, having official accommodations from the college means that even the worst of professors have to comply with them.  So fingers crossed that you don’t find yourself in either of those situations.  But I really did have a lot of success talking to professors individually.  Even when disability services is already semi-cooperative, good professors will sometimes go above and beyond to make sure you’re included, and that’s pretty cool.  I’m fairly certain your professors aren’t allowed to ask questions about your disability if you don’t want them to, but I would recommend disclosing a little, because having a better understanding helps professors help you.

You can also talk to your classmates and see if they might be willing to help out.  For example, even if you were denied a formal note taker, someone might still be willing to photocopy their notes for you.  Or like for me, I have food allergies and needed classmates to be careful, so when the college said no to formal rules, I emailed all my classmates myself and said, “Hey I want to be safe in class, can you avoid bringing peanut butter?” and they were happy to listen.  Of course you still shouldn’t have to share anything you don’t want to, but I did find that accommodations that relied on other people went better when they knew who I was.  I think they would see me and remember they needed to be careful, instead of it being an abstract rule, and it helps a lot.   

My favorite type of informal accommodations is what my friends and I call “guerilla accommodations”.  None of the adults were willing to help, so my friends made it happen in their own (not always quite within the rules) ways!  Some of my favorite examples of guerilla accommodations have been: friends providing impromptu ASL translations of instructions, going into classrooms and swapping out unsafe equipment, helping educate classmates, unlocking doors to create accessible paths, contacting event organizers themselves with accessibility requests, and arranging rides.  My sister even once carried me out the parking lot when there was a fire drill!  My point is, just because the college told you no doesn’t mean it’s impossible.  There are a lot of good people out there who are willing to help, even if they’re not the ones that work in disability services.

I wish you the best of luck on your quest for accommodations!

[emiefaunwrites]

I have returned once more! Did you miss me lol? Been thinking about Maki absolutely captivating Kirumi after her first performance! I’ve been especially thinking about Maki actually pursuing acting as a career. She’ll probably start off in a small community theater, then Broadway, then smaller roles in TV shows, and finally bigger to main roles in movies. Maybe once she’s finally starting to get recognition after starring in 4 big movies and getting a huge raise in her paycheck, she’ll probably receive an invite/nomination to an awards show. Kirumi (who may either be her fiancé or wife at this time), all her friends from high school, community theater, Broadway, and the tv shows she’s performed in come to support her whether she wins or not (Taka and Leon can be there too if you want to add in some Ishileon as well as Harutojo lol). Maki would be nominated for something like “Best Movie Actress” or something and actually win it, catching her off guard since she wouldn’t be expecting it. Kirumi would be so proud and excited, she’d probably lift Maki up in a hug and yelling words of praise and affection. If you’re not a fan of that idea, there’s also this;

Kirumi comforting Maki after losing someone close to her

Hope these are okay!

Heyyy!

I ALWAYS MISS YOU AND YOUR SUGGESTIONS! You should open your own non-despair au, you know! I'd ask the hell out of it 😎 and would love to see your ship headcanons!

It's taken a few days to actually come up with something for this. Kinda because I'm not well versed on Maki as a character (haha) as she was one of the ones I actually liked least in V3. Nothing wrong with her - but Gonta, Kokichi and Kaito stole my heart!

But I think I hace something. Deviated slightly from your idea to something that I thought fit her backstory or at least fed it from it. I thought it would be kinda cute anyway haha! And lets be honest - pretty sure she'd want to move from assassin so why not act?

As always, thank you for your ask! Hope this was worth the wait!

************************

• Following her debut performance, Maki finally found a passion.

• She had many talents, of course, but enjoyed nothing but acting.

• It also helped that it bagged her a date with her dream girl.

• So she ended up pursuing a career in it - applying to the biggest drama school and getting in with flying colours.

• She performed in many things during the three years studying and her confidence grew and grew.

• And her starring role was on Broadway as Mary Poppins.

• Of course, this meant that she had to interact with children - something she wasn't particularly keen on.

• But as always, the children loved her and wanted to follow her around in green room.

• She felt compelled to entertain them, seeing as she would need to build up a rapport with them.

• As time went on, she found herself seeking them out to look after, or tease, or run lines.

• And by the time the run was over, she realised she would miss them.

• She continued with acting, in all kinds of shows, but none quite felt as right as Mary Poppins.

• Sitting down with Kirumi after getting yet another role in an upcoming show, she admitted that something was different.

• And Kirumi, who knew her backstory and saw the change in her over the year long Mary Poppins rehearsals and show, could only smile knowingly.

• 'What?'

• 'Is Broadway what you really want anymore, my dear?'

• 'Well. No. But what else would I be good at?'

• Kirumi, who says nothing, flicks the television on.

• And it lands on a children's show.

• It all hits Maki like a train - the realisation that THIS is what she could do.

• She could be a children's television personality!

• Something she could never have imagined a couple of years ago but even she can see that she's mellowed.

• And she's always been great with children - why not finally use that talent?!

• It's a big step and she has to work hard to make it work.

• But she catches a break on an educational show and makes her debut in the summer.

• And as expected, children LOVE her.

• Maki's show quickly becomes a hit - bringing in views from all over the country and even becoming an international hit.

• And it isn't long until she gets nominated for her first award.

• Naturally, she invites her girlfriend but also has Kaito, Kokichi and Shuichi make an appearance.

• And with her final two tickets, she reaches out to the man who forced her to take the first step - Kiyotaka Ishimaru (and his obnoxious fiance).

• She has no idea that she's seriously in the running for it - only thinking it's a formality.

• So she makes sure to sit with her group as far back as possible - mainly to keep Kaito, Kokichi and Leon away from anyone who might recognise.

• And that makes the walk to the stage when she's announced the winner a VERY long one!

• But it's made even longer when Kaito launches on top of her, swiftly followed by Kokichi before Taka and Shuichi have a chance to drag him off.

• And when she can finally come up for air, she catches her girlfriend's eye and sees that she's overwhelmed with pride and emotion.

• She can't stop thinking about it the whole way up to the stage, all the way through her speech.

• And she surprises everyone, even herself, when she proposes on international television.

• Cue a loud MAKI ROOOOOOOLL and screeches from her group, a huge round of applause and Kirumi nodding, crying in happiness.

[jack-o-cel]

I would like to officially introduce one of my OC's that live rent-free in my brain. He's a Resident Evil 8 OC. Even tho he's a fandom OC, he means a lot to me and has grown on me a lot. He's special to me :]

Also please spare me, Resi 8 is my first game in the Resident Evil series.

Forester Vein

Nickname: Ester

Biological Age: 138

Age Appearance: Early 20s

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay Demisexual

Place of birth: Norway

Occupation: Miranda's right-hand man. He essentially does her bidding and only takes orders from her. He also has power over the lords but is usually tasked with helping them. Besides that, he's a Botanist.

Family: Both his parents are dead. All he has is his little brother Foxglove, who looks around 7 years old.

Appearance: Forester is about 5'9". He's a twig. He's pretty pale with long white hair (It was originally brown before being implanted with his Cadou). He has light blue faded sharp eyes. He has sharp teeth (an effect of his Cadou). He also wears glasses.

When carrying out his duties for Miranda he wears a white tailcoat with gold accents, a black and white striped vest, a black dress shirt, a white and gold cross tie, black slacks, and black dress shoes with gold accents.

On his own time, he wears a white t-shirt, a beige knitted jacket, black sweatpants, and socks with sandals.

Personality: On duty, he's in what I affectionately call, customer service mode. He's very formal and helpful. He'll hold his tongue. He's Miranda's most loyal servant and does his very best to meet her expectations. On his own time, however, he more casual and sassy. He speaks his mind. Oh, and he hates Miranda with every fiber of his being (which is a lot :3).

In general, he's manipulative, obsessive, and smug. But also caring to those he loves. Would go above and beyond for them. He's a pretty serious and quiet person. Only when he's alone or with his little brother does his playful and goofy side come out. Despite his usual serious attitude, he's very expressive. His most common expression is a mocking smile.

He's very clumsy, especially when thinking about his obsession, whoever that may be. He's borderline yandere (His yandere behavior is a combination of Yuno from Future Diary, and Tsukiyama from Tokyo Ghoul).

Powers/Abilities: Enhanced strength, and regeneration.

Forester can control large thick vines (which look like large tendrils) and all plant life. He can release special pollen that allows him to control plant life (similar to Donna). The vines are different tho. He can control them without his pollen. To understand why first you have to understand how Ester's body works.

His body underneath his skin is made of vines. He also can easily regrow his limbs and regenerate his skin and hair. His vines are an extension of himself. Although his body is his main body, it isn't his core. His core is located underground surrounded by vines and impossible to get to. Vines from the core spread across the village underground. Forester can only go a few miles away from the edge of the underground vines.

The only time his core would be possible to access is when Forester transforms. His transformed state is a 50-foot tall behemoth made of vines. In this state, he's stuck where he transformed. The core is moved to just below the neck area of the vine monster. Fighting Forester is suicide in most cases. He attacks with huge vine tendrils from his arms and the base of the beast. He doesn't tire and his vines regenerate.

There are only two ways to beat him. The first way would involve killing him. You would need large amounts of fire-spreading explosives to slow him down. It makes getting to his core easier, you'll still be getting attacked tho. You'll need to be able to fly (or just about anything that's not climbing) to his core, climbing would take too long. You'll need to plant explosives where the core is sealed away. Once opened, jump in as fast as you can, the vines will close shut rather quickly.

The core is a large amber sphere. it's soft and gooey when touched gently, but if you were to attack it, it would harden. Inside the core is the shape of a man in the form of vines. That's where Forester's brain and Cadou is. Destroying that kills him.

The second method requires cooperation with Forester's brother, Foxglove. This method is to non-lethally beat him. In this method you cant use explosives, Fox won't agree to help you otherwise. You'll need a team to pull this off. You need someone, or a group, to distract the majority of the vines. You'll need a way to get to the core and something strong enough to pry open the vines long enough for Foxglove to enter where he'll take care of the rest. This method saves Forester, but kills Foxglove.

His Area: Just like the four lords he has his own area. You'll need the six-winged unborn vine key to unlock the gate that leads to his garden lab. The lab is outside with a greenhouse nearby. It's a small area. Most, if not all, would miss the entrance to his underground lair.

The underground area is seven floors down with an arena to the right of all the floors. You can peek inside the arena through 5 of the sub levels. sublevel 1 is above the arena, while level 7 is where the entrance to the arena is. The arena's ceiling is about 60 feet tall. It's used for testing Miranda's experiments abilities among other things. Forester uses it to test and train his own abilities (which is why the ceiling is so high :3).

From the main entrance to the bottom level is a spiral staircase. Each sublevel has a floor gate on the steps with a unique lock. To continue you have to find the key somewhere in the sublevel. Each level has its own tactics and enemies. They're all based on the five senses. Also, before entering you will be disarmed, one way or another.

Sublevel 1 - normal. There's an elevator on this floor locked behind a door that requires the vine key, that only Forester, and his little brother (who i'll talk about later in the post) have. The elevator goes to each level by going through hallways behind the arena walls.

Sublevel 2 - enemies that rely on sight. It'll be essentially hide and sneak kinda gameplay. If you get spotted you have to run out of sight and into a hiding place. You cant be seen going into a hiding spot.

Sublevel 3 - enemies that rely on hearing. You have to explore as quietly as possible. If a chase scene happens you have to hide in a special safe room.

Sublevel 4 - enemies that rely on smell. You'll have to regularly step into ponds that have a special substance inside that masks your scent into smelling like the enemy. But you can't get too close to the enemies there. They'll be able to identify you if you're too close. There are special rooms filled with an overwhelming amount of scents that the enemies wont enter.

Sublevel 5 - the enemies there rely on touch. They have long arms and hands that sweep across the floors. All you gotta do is avoid them. Harder said than done tho. The enemies can sense vibrations =). Dont move too erratically. Simple fast movements are best. Since they're rather big, they cant fit inside some rooms.

Sublevel 6 - The enemies here rely on taste. The key in this level is at the end of a large room that's packed with enemies with long tongues. They interact with their tongues. If they taste a human they'll attack. You have to explore the rest of the level for a vine suit to disguise as one of them. A few enemies roam outside the crowded room tho. They whip their tongues around them. It's a pretty wide radius, but it's not fast. To get past them you gave to see the whip pattern. There are no safe rooms or hide spots, besides the merchant room, in this level.

Sublevel 7 - All the above (with Forester roaming around as a treat =3)~

Arena - Boss Battle =))))))

Story: Forester was born in one of the poorest areas in Norway. His parents barely had enough to feed him, and themselves. When Ester was 10 he found a job at a garden owned by an old wealthy woman. To get the job he had to pretend to be rich. He did a lot of stalking to learn the behavior of rich kids his age; he got very good and stalking and slipping on a mask. He also stole clothes and food to look the part. The old lady was none the wiser. For 6 years she believed in his carefully constructed lie.

The old lady happened to have no living relatives, with no one else to give her wealth and belongings to, she gave it all to Forester when she died; He was 16. With his newly acquired wealth, he gave his family a comfortable home, with everything they could need and want.

Forester had always wanted to attend school, but could never afford or have time for it. Now that he could, he immediately enrolled. It was incredibly difficult. He was somewhat educated, he'd stolen books in the past and taught himself, but he was still incredibly behind. Regardless he tried his best and spent countless nights up studying. Eventually, he was able to do more than catch up, but surpass many of his peers.

After graduation, he went to college out of his country where he majored in botany and aimed for a PhD. He met Miranda in college. They had a few similar classes and got along well. Eventually, they became close friends.

After graduating from college they both went out to do their own thing, but kept in touch and traveled often together. Eventually, Forester decided to work as her assistant and learn from her.

In his early 30s, he took in his little brother, Foxglove, after their parents died. Foxglove was around a year or two years old at the time. While raising his brother, Forester felt a void in him filled. He had someone to love and take care of. Someone he could trust and love unconditionally. Both Foxglove and Eva got along well and played often together.

When Eva died, Forester was there to support his closest most trusted friend. When Miranda found the megamycete she went to her friend and explained what happened and her new plan. Forester, although wary, supported her in any way he could. He refused to go near the megamycete tho.

When he got close to it, Miranda pushed him into it. The megamycete grabbed Forester with tendrils and seemed to absorb him into it.

A few months after Eva died. Foxglove wandered into the forest nearby and found beautiful flowers. Ones that shared his name. Curious the boy ate a few of the flowers. Not too long afterward he came to his brother as fast as he could. He felt sick. Very sick. Fox explained what happened to Forester. Panicked he quickly tried his best to make a remedy, a cure, anything with what he had. But with no time or sufficient supplies on hand, Foxglove died in his arms.

It broke Forester. The void from before returned, larger than before. He desperately turned to Miranda for help. Miranda smiled, with something malicious behind her smile, and told him to go to the megamycete.

Inside the megamycete was an indescribable experience. While inside Ester could feel his body painfully changing. It also awoke something hiding deep in his mind. Something he was forced to forget. Miranda had been brainwashing him for years as an experiment in creating a truly loyal servant. He could feel his anger overwhelm him. He thought they were friends. He thought he could trust her. She knows things about him that he never said out loud before. He was hurt, betrayed, and pissed. Forester was determined to confront her, make her pay.

With his mind quieter, Forester remembered his brother. He found Miranda and approached her carefully and asked where his brother is. Miranda took him to an unmarked grave in the forest. He broke down. Miranda interrupted him, and asked him what he was going to do. Was he going to continue to wallow in despair or try to bring Foxglove back?

He clawed his way out of the megamycete. He felt heavy, but he continued. Eventually, he broke through after weeks of being trapped. With him a giant sphere like object covered in vines emerged. Upon inspecting it, he quickly realized what it was. He could believe what he saw. He had to hide it, and fast. He had looked down and had an idea.

He felt a newfound power within him, and with it, he sent his core deep underground where its vines would grow and spread. With his core safe he confronted Miranda. She initially tried to kill him, but found the effort futile. Instead, she spoke a series of words. Forester blacked out.

When he awoke he was sitting in a chair in Miranda's lab. Miranda was nowhere in sight. Desperate to find answers he returned to the megamycete. Touching it revealed the truth. When he blacked out, he was still awake, but he wasn't himself. He saw as he answered every question Miranda asked and did exactly as he was told. He calmed his growing anger and thought carefully. He needed a plan to bypass her brainwash effect.

Soon he began working on his lab and lair. He worked tirelessly on ways to bring back his brother. After years of research and testing, he was able to make an exact copy made of foxglove flowers. Forester not caring that what he created was a copy, embraced the boy and accepted him. Ester explained to the new Foxglove who he was.

Forester was content. He had his brother back. Still, the void remained. Regardless he could now focus on getting rid of Miranda. By then he had learned how to pass messages and take notes unconsciously. He informed his brother about his situation.

As the years passed, Foxglove stayed physically the same, but his mind grew.

Eventually, during the time that Heisenberg began preparing his army, Forester had Fox give him a letter explaining everything he knew. In secret, the two conspired against Miranda.

Currently: So Forester was created for an rp with one of my closest friends (@plague-doctorz). So what happened with Forester is that a war had started with three forces. Heisenberg's army, William's (Plagues' OC) army, Miranda's one-man brainwashed army, Forester. Will provoked Forester into transforming, according to Foxglove's plan. After dealing with many attack from Forester, the pair, with Lady Dimitrescu's help, formed a plan.

William acted as the distraction. With most of the vines focused on him, Alcina, transformed, swooped in through the middle, while dealing with stray vines, and brought Fox to where the core is. She pryed open the vines. Foxglove stepped inside and forced Alcina to let go. The vines shut closed. Inside Fox opened up the amber easily. Even in a brainwashed state, Forester trusted his brother no matter what.

Foxglove began flaking into leaves and flowers and flew into the crevices of the vines that made up Forester. He was able to snap Ester back to his senses at the cost of his life.

Forester had lost consciousness, and when he awoke, Miranda was already dead. He felt even emptier than before. The hole in his heart got wider when he found out what happened.

Right now, a few months later, Forester is at a state where he's on the brink of snapping. What he needs is closure, and something to fill the void in his heart. But can he have both? Will he even get either?

=)

So this is Forester! Please send me any questions and stuff if youre interested. I love to talk about him! Seriously, he lives rent free in my head.

Oh also, here's a picrew of him while I'm still working on his sketches~

His hair down too, cause im a simp,,,

Also here's Foxglove!

Also here's the link to a playlist on spotify based on Forester: here

one last thing

👉👈 @roxyourworld look what i did~

[arielovessims]

The New Heiress Chapter 2, Part 5

“Mr. and Mrs. Summerdream, thank you for agreeing to meet with me today.”

“There is something very important that I would like to discuss with you, and I am hoping for your favorable response.”

“As you know, Puck and I have been best friends for a long time, and that we eventually developed feelings for each other. To get straight to the point, I am asking for his hand in marriage.”

“I know that you don’t want him and your family to be involved in the feud, but there has been peace in this town for the last seven years, and that is all thanks to you, Mr. Summerdream. I will also do my best to help maintain that peace.”

“Most importantly, I do not see anyone else in my future other than Puck. I love him, I really do. I hope you can see that.”

“We do see that you two are very much in love, my dear. And personally, I no longer have any qualms with your association to the feud. My only concern is if you two are truly prepared. Marriage is no fairytale. Nevertheless, if you are sure and ready, you have my blessing. But it is nothing without Titania’s approval too. She is, after all, the head of this family.”

“Of course you have my blessing, Hermia. No need for formalities or tradition, but we do appreciate you coming to us first. The fact that you wanted to seek our approval already tells us how much you value this.”

“But as Oberon said, please make sure you are ready first. We understand that as heiress, you might feel pressured to get married, but the both of you are still very young. And you know Puck, he has a childlike heart.”

“You are right. I am actually not in a hurry to get married, in fact I am frightened, but I just wanted to ask for your approval as early as now, for reassurance. And now, knowing that I have your support, I can plan my future with less anxiety.”

“Of course, it will all still be up to you and Puck, whatever you decide. We just wanted to give you advice because we have seen so many couples who used to be so in love, to end up divorced, and we don’t want that to happen to you.”

“If you ever need marriage or parental advice, you can always come to us.”

“I need to go now. Thank you so much for your time.”

“It’s been a pleasure. We would be delighted to have you as part of our family, Hermia. I hope all goes well with the two of you.”

“Good morning, Daddy.”

“Good morning, sweetie. You’re up early today? It’s Sunday.”

“I made sure to get up while the others are still asleep because I want to talk to you alone.”

“What is it, my dear? Is it so serious that you don’t want your siblings to know?”

“About your wedding, Daddy. I don’t want to be a flower girl anymore.”

“Oh, who will be our flower girl, then? Is something the matter, Ariel? Are you upset about the wedding?”

“No, it’s not about you and Uncle Kent, it’s just... I don’t think I’m a girl.”

“Oh. So does that mean...?”

“I don’t think I’m a boy, either.”

“I don’t understand why there has to be things for boys and things for girls. I like things for both.”

“And it makes me uncomfortable to think about my... you know. We are learning sex education in biology class and our teacher taught us about how there are people who are not male or female, and that’s when I knew.”

“People might think I’m too young to be thinking and deciding about this, but I’m nearly a teenager, and I’m pretty sure this is who I am. So I guess instead of a flower girl, I can just be called... a flower... child?”

“Are you upset, Daddy?”

“Oh no, Ariel, no. I’m just... processing it. But I think I understand.”

“Thank you Daddy! It means so much to me that you understand and accept who I am.”

“Well, we didn’t learn about those things when I was a boy, and I didn’t even know I liked men too until I got older.”

“Of course I accept who you are, my love. And you will forever be my baby. Didn’t I tell you that you could be whoever you wanted to be?”

“I’m so lucky you’re my dad.”

“What kind of father would I be if I didn’t love you for who you are?”

“Do you think Mommy would have accepted it too?”

“Yes, I think she would.”

“Of course you’d be here again.”

“I wanted to be alone, there’s too much people inside.”

“So, are you ready to tell me your secret? Or should I tell Dad that you were lying about where you’ve been the other night?”

“What do you mean?”

“I called Fabian, and unfortunately for you, it was his mother who picked up the phone and said there was no sleepover at their house like you claimed. So just tell me where you’ve been. If you don’t, I will ask Bottom, because I know she’s in on your secret.”

“Look, brother dear. I know I’m annoying, and nosy, and whatever else you want to call me. But I’m your sister, and I worry about you. When we were little, you always looked out for me because I always got in trouble, didn’t you? And now it seems our roles have switched. Now I have to look out for you, because you’ve been acting really suspicious. Whatever it is you’re doing, I just have a gut feeling that there’s something wrong.”

“Okay, I will tell you. But you have to promise me that you will never tell anyone. Not Dad, not Nonno or Nonna, not anyone. Do you promise?”

“Why not? How serious is this, Ben?”

“It’s a matter of life and death. Now, do you promise?”

“Alright, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good. Well, I do have a girlfriend.”

“Ooooh, I knew it. Is that it, then? You know you can just tell Nonno that you’re not interested in Olivia.”

“Listen. She’s not just any other girl. I met her at that party we snuck into when we were kids.”

“No... no way...”

“She’s a Capp.”

“Ben... what on earth?! I thought you were the obedient and dutiful twin... do you want to give Nonno a heart attack? Have you learned nothing from what happened with Romeo? And Mom? Dad will kill you!”

“Listen, Bea. I don’t want this feud to go on forever. Don’t you too? And she’s not that different from us, so why can’t I be with her, just because our grandpa had a falling out with her grandpa? None of that was her fault. She just happened to be a Capp, and we happened to be in love. That’s why I’m going to fight for her, and marry her eventually.”

“Oh, God. You’ve gone off the rails. This is all my fault. I never should’ve let you follow me to that party.”

“I still have a functioning brain, and I also have a functioning heart. Come on Bea, you should be on my side here. Don’t you want peace in this town once and for all? Our generation... we don’t deserve to get dragged into the mess our grandparents created.”

“Of course I want peace, but I don’t want to get disowned too. Do you have a plan, then?”

“Well, not yet entirely. But I know we will have Aunt Bianca’s support when we tell her.”

“Well, loverboy. If you don’t have Plan A perfectly mapped out yet, you better have a Plan B for if we get kicked out.”

“So you’re with me then? Thank you, Beatrice!”

“Well, what can I do? I know I can’t stop you. And you’d do the same for me. I guess we’re more alike than we thought, huh?”

[rokutouxei]

the other van gogh

part 4 of: atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theodorus van gogh / mc, theo & vincent | gen | 2403 | [ao3 in bio]

spoiler warning: this fic references scenes from theo’s main route chapters 3, 8, and 18.

You’d heard about Theo before you’d gone to the mansion.

Not by name, no, not by history either. You’d gone to museums with Vincent’s paintings and had read a few descriptions of historical context here and there but for the most part you had heard about his brother with a peculiar moniker.

The Other van Gogh.

When you’d met him that night at the mansion, the roots of guilt began to implant itself into your heart. And with every second you spent with Theo afterwards, knee-deep in his work, the guilt had birthed in its wake curiosity—as to why he was known for his brother, and not for whatever he had done on his own.

Why Arthur would not stop with his brother-complex jokes. Why everyone thought this was normal. Why no one asked questions—why this was just fact.

What did they know that you didn’t? What made Vincent mean so much to Theo to begin with?

Of course, the kind of brotherly connection and support that siblings do have isn’t really news to you, but you could see at a glance that this was different. That they weren’t just brothers, they were partners, and it seemed that Theo derived so much meaning in his life from Vincent’s existence, like he couldn’t hold himself up if not for his older brother.

But why?

If there is anything the passing of time has taught to its scholars, whether they are the ones spending unending hours and days and years in libraries, cooped up, comparing texts from each other, extracting and analysing and cross-referencing, or if they are the ones who are constantly out on the field, making notes, remembering everything, writing everything down to memory—it is that nothing, nothing, can ever truly be captured in its full historical detail. There are always things that will be missed, overlooked, misunderstood, things that no amount of work on history will ever be able to recover.

That is the weakness of the human perspective. Not everyone will write these histories, and there will be many, many experiences that will never be known.

Theo’s, perhaps, is included in those.

You don’t have much knowledge in history to begin with, but the guilt of not having recognized that first night in the banquet continued to gnaw at you, worsening now that you’re spending even more time with him compared to everyone else, and yet you still feel like you knew even less than you started with.

You have an argument, but even to you, it is weak: that the rest of them are pretty  much names you would not have been able to escape in the 21st century educational system. Isaac Newton, of course, the discoverer of gravity. Jean d’Arc, the great martyr. Leonardo da Vinci, with his paintings and sculptures. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, whose songs you started humming in childhood. William Shakespeare, sometimes called the greatest writer in the English language. Napoleon Bonaparte, perhaps one of the greatest military commanders in history. Arthur Conan Doyle, the author of the famous Sherlock Holmes. And even Dazai Osamu is pretty recognized as an author too, as far as you knew. And Vincent van Gogh—of course, one of the most renowned artists in the world.

But Theo?

While Vincent was a myth, Theo remained largely untold.

Look, you weren’t a history scholar, and considering your work back in the 21st century, this kind of knowledge was and is entirely out of your radius of practical information. You really didn’t have much reason to know about it. It’s just a niche that you’re not in. And that’s entirely fine, you tell yourself, no single human ought to know everything about the world—except, perhaps, if you’re Leonardo da Vinci, who seems to have an answer for everything, but that was beside the point.

For the longest time, these missing bits of his history left unknown to you, matched with the fact that Theo isn’t exactly the kind of person who is easy to get to know, made your efforts of really, really doing your best to get closer to him feel like you were instead making friends with a wall.

A tall, handsome, strong, passionate, smart, ocean blue-eyed, ridiculously rude wall, but a wall nonetheless.

Or a closed door.

Until Vincent opened it for you.

-

It was in response to your bewilderment. When one is a sadist and the other one is an angel, it is easy to wonder how they would be related. The day you go out to the flower fields to deliver painting supplies to Vincent is the day he tells you that “I know Theo’s easy to misunderstand, but he’s a really nice kid, so please be friends with him okay?”

And while the instinct is to say no thanks, Vincent’s not exactly the person you can say no to, so you let it go. And on that very same day Theo had allowed you to see a part of him, one you wondered if he ever really ardently shows anyone else, talking about sunrises and the art world and what he can do. What he wants to do. A little glimpse, a peek of what’s hidden inside, but not enough—barely enough—to satiate your own curiosity.

And you, silly, silly little hondje—Theo is right when he says you don’t know just how much trouble you walk into—you take this little curiosity as a challenge.

So you watch.

Watch what history has missed.

-

Mastering the art of looking at art with a critical eye is one that is honed over time. But with a teacher both as strict and as passionate as Theo, it is a skill that you quickly pick up. Learning the implications of certain gestures; the observation of the tiniest details; the effects of colors; of sharpening one’s gut.

You thought it would be hard.

Or at least, much easier said than done, especially when the man frustratingly keeps calling you dog or snack or any variation of the both of that when he only has miles and miles of praises for his older brother. You were, are, and will obviously be at an entirely different level than Vincent for as long as you will be here. (Not that you minded. Why would you mind it?)

But it isn’t hard at all.

It’s rather easy.

The easiest things to see are their differences. Of course—it’s always like that. That’s exactly why it’s so easy to misunderstand Theo at face value. Where Vincent’s smile is sunny and warm, Theo has a glare that makes flowers wilt. While Vincent likes his pancakes plain and with butter, Theo can get thirty lifetimes worth of sugar for the amount of syrup he puts on his pancakes. Where Vincent is approachable and perhaps a little airheaded, Theo is guarded, distrustful, wary. While Vincent’s words are soft and kind and gentle like wildflowers are, Theo has the formality of roses but also their barbs and thorns.

But the days turn into weeks and your eyes get trained to see past that. Get used to seeing the gentle rays of sunlight illuminating their irises when they look back at each other, talking about art. Vincent sees the softest sides of Theo, see where his thorns give way to flowers, where his distrust smooths into blind faith.

And you want to see that too.

So you practice.

Start with catching the little details like how Theo walks with his hands in his pockets. Or the way he casually adjusts his tie right before he enters a room before a meeting with a client like he’s psyching himself up. Or maybe the way he bites the inside of his cheek when he’s deep in thought, the lines that form on his forehead when he’s squinting so hard at a painting through his magnifying glass. Or the little tug of a smirk he cannot resist when he gets complimented, the one he so subtly and ever so quickly washes away with a neutral face in a second.

Then you catch other things, too. Like how if you matter any single bit to Theo, you can get him to do pretty much anything, bending himself backward over if you ask him. How he pays attention to things that matter to him, down to the littlest detail, like an artist’s changing focus, a shift in style, a change in technique. And how Theo has a dream and it’s one of the only two things he really, really believes in. (The other is his brother.)

You thought it would be impossible to see Theo through Vincent’s eyes, but.

Eventually you do.

You don’t know where it begins, but it begins somewhere. Maybe on that evening you’d gone up the atelier and seen the candlelight shine on his prideful, confident boyish grin, as if he knew all the answers for certain. Or maybe it was later, standing in the garden laughing because how is it that Theo van Gogh, so strong and imposing and scary is now pinned onto the grass with the most playful golden retriever you have ever seen?

But that’s the important part. You start seeing it.

The same way Theo could tell the painting was a fake at first glance that morning at Cedric’s.

And the wall is still tall and opaque and hard to climb but—

You can sort of see the sunlight peering over it.

-

On the day of the storm, in between antiseptic and rolls of gauze, silence permeates the library like a dense fog. The only sound you can really quite hear besides the thunder outside is your thumping heart, racing as if in time with Theo’s labored breathing.

There are too many questions to ask. You want to ask him why he does all of this. You want to ask him if it is worth it. And you don’t know the order in which to ask them, which ones are the ones you have to hear, but you do.

Theo, for a brief moment, opens up to you.

Allows you to see the red of his wounds and his roses. See the garden, not his thorns.

But before the two of you could head out to your rooms, to go back to bed and pretend none of this had happened, you hold the first-aid kit in your hands and turn to him, already putting his bloodied jacket on, and ask the question you had long feared asking, the one whose answer you worried you really didn’t deserve knowing.

You ask, “Why is it that you’re so fixated on Vincent?”

There’s a moment of held-breath silence, then Theo answers.

“Because I made a choice that day, and he is all I have left.”

-

The next day, you catch Vincent in the garden painting. You hesitate at the doorway wondering if you should interrupt him, but eventually decide that this is something you ought to tell him, out of respect.

“I wanted to say sorry,” you say, sitting next to him on the grass. Vincent turns to you with confusion in his eyes.

“What about?”

“When we were at the flower fields, and I asked you and Theo if you were really brothers—I thought about it a lot the past few days, and I think finally see what you mean,” you say. “About Theo.”

Vincent smiles, the smile of someone who knows more than they let on.

-

(A lifetime ago, in the middle of a seaside town when everything was falling apart around him, Vincent had only one person holding him up, and that was his brother. They were young then—but felt much too old, older than they were. Youth was not gentle with them, and for the most part they spend much of their lives making up for times they spent less kind to one another. Dreaming for the children they used to be, the ones they would have wanted to nurture, but cannot anymore.

The seaside town where their paths were linked and then diverged. They were teenagers, walking alongside the mill, hiding in stockrooms, listening to the crash of the waves against the Dutch shores.

And a full lifetime ago, long after they’d grown out of the old family home, Vincent had taken up his pen and had written to Theo:

We’re quite distant from one another, and in certain respects we may have different ways of seeing, but nevertheless, sometimes or some day one of us might be able to be of use to the other. For today, I shake your hand, thanking you again for the kindness you’ve shown me.

The salt in the air, the gray paths, the winding roads, they all remain.)

-

If there is anything the passing of time has taught to its scholars, whether they are the ones spending unending hours and days and years in libraries, cooped up, comparing texts from each other, extracting and analysing and cross-referencing, or if they are the ones who are constantly out on the field, making notes, remembering everything, writing everything down to memory—it is that nothing, nothing, can ever truly be captured in its full historical detail. There are always things that will be missed, overlooked, misunderstood, things that no amount of work on history will ever be able to recover.

That is the weakness of the human perspective. Not everyone will write these histories, and there will be many, many experiences that will never be known.

And because of this the world might only remember Vincent after all. Might only remember he had a brother that stood by him but had nothing in comparison to the legacy of paintings that once were piled up in that said brother’s small Paris home. Might only think that the entire story only revolves around Vincent, and that there is only Vincent and then the other van Gogh.

The world might not know him by name.

But it’s okay.

You hold his face in your hands, that night he tells you he’s sworn to throw everything away for Vincent. The van Gogh that wasn’t the Other one. The name of the feeling you hadn’t wanted to put into words tasting like blood in your mouth.

Theo can do what he wants.

And the world can forget.

But you will remember.

And to at least one person—he will not just be the other van Gogh.

--

in the atelier: Two children on the beach by Pierre van Dijk

[reallifesultanas]

Portrait of Pargali Ibrahim Pasha/Pargali Ibrahim pasa portréja

Of the many particularly colorful individuals who surrounded Suleiman I, Ibrahim Pasa, nicknamed “makbul” (favorite) and “maktul” (executed), was one of the most interesting characters.

Origin and life as a slave

Ibrahim was around the same age as Suleiman, so most probably he was born around 1495 in Parga, Northeastern Greece. However he was most probably not a typical greek, because he spoke a slavic dialect, near to croatian. This is not surprising, since in the Parga territories a lot os slav family lived. Maybe Ibrahim's family was one of them, or maybe he came from a mixed slav and greek family. Some sources even suggest he was an Albanian. We don’t know too many things on his natural family, except that his father was a sailor or fisherman. 

It is not known surely when and how was he captured. There are old legends, without any valide evidence. One of these stories says that he was captured by Türks and then he found himself at the slave market, where a widow from Manisa bought him. This woman raised him very well, educated him, taught him how to play violin. They say when Süleyman arrived to Manisa as a governor he heard the violin play of Ibrahim. He immediatelly started to search for the source of music, when find Ibrahim. He was charmed by his musical and as well as other talents and took him into his princely household. There with time a strong, life-long friendship formed between the two youngster. It sounds very nice, but doesn't really seems plausible. 

There is another story, which seems more accurate and there are second-hand evidences to support this theory. It says that Ibrahim was captured during Sultan Bayezid’s reign (somewhere between 1499-1502), by his Bosnian governor, Iskender pasha. This governor and his daughters (Hafsa and Mihrişah) raised and educated him. The pasha's daughter, Mihrişah, nicknamed Ms. Haci, was the one who raised Ibrahim. In his later letters, Ibrahim also often refers to the woman with love: "the crown of good deeds and the infinity and purity of good things last until the day of judgment." The woman eventually died in 1527, and Ibrahim said plenty of prayers for her soul.

The friend of Şehzade Suleiman

Ibrahim's life turned upside down, when he met with Prince Süleyman in Edirne. Ibrahim stayed there with the daughter of Iskender Pasha, while Suleiman was sent to Edirne by his father to took care of the western border of the Empire, until he returns from campaign. This meeting most probably took place around 1514. Iskender Pasha's family was very influential, so it is not surprising that they could met with the prince during his stay in Edirne. It is not known that Ibrahim and Suleiman were simply became friends in Edirne, so he held his departure with Suleiman; or the family of Iskender Pasha gave the talented and educated Ibrahim to the prince as a gift. 

Either way, Ibrahim went with Prince Suleiman to his Manisa province, where their long and close friendship developed over time. They were both ambitious, intelligent youngsters, so they certainly woven their dreams together about the future of the empire. Suleiman lived difficult times as a prince, in vain was he the only heir, his father watched him with sly eyes, waiting for his son to made some mistake. The young prince desperately needed a trustworthy and understanding friend. It may have been this vulnerable period and interdependence that led to such a close friendship between them. Ibrahim’s salary at this time was 3 asper for a day according to one of the Manisa records. He is listed in this record as the fifth slave, “Ibrahim the Albanian”.

The friend of Sultan Suleiman

When Suleiman ascended the throne in 1520, all positions were filled in the divan by his father's old pashas. This did not make it easy for Suleiman to start his own reign, as the pashas did not accept the young man as a monarch. Previously for years, Suleiman had to hide his interest in politics and desire to the throne in order to survive, which is why the pashas thought he was not capable to rule. In the meantime, however, Suleiman and Ibrahim very cleverly devised how they could take control of the empire. Suleiman was not strong enough to simply dismiss the pashas he didn't like, so he took advantage of the fight between them, disintegrating them from within.

Meanwhile, he appointed Ibrahim as the head of his quarters, who could thus have been with the sultan on a permanent basis. It is likely that Suleiman relied heavily on his friend in this early period, and they certainly discussed together the current political situation. In addition, Suleiman publicly acknowledged and introduced his friend, with whom he shared everything. The Venetian ambassador then wrote of Ibrahim that he is like the heart and breath of the Sultan. Moreover he reported Ibrahim’s appearance also: “Ibrahim was a thin man, with small face, pale, not very tall, and graceful”.

In June of 1523, Suleiman was finally able to dismiss Piri Pasa, the Grand Vizier, who caused him the most trouble. Everyone expected Suleiman to appoint Ahmed Pasa, who he otherwise liked, to replace Piri Pasa, but to everyone’s astonishment, Ibrahim Aga was appointed to hold the highest office in the empire.

The new Grand Vizier

Ibrahim had been a close friend and confidant of Suleiman but his appointment was clearly due to Suleiman's desire to get rid of his father's old pashas so he could play by his own rules. Suleiman was also fed up with the political struggles within the divan, as the battles between the pashas were at the expense of the rise of the empire. Ibrahim's rise prevented members of the political elite - which Suleiman hated so much - from getting close to the sultan at all. Not only did all the pashas lose their special status - thus becoming equal to the others - but they could no longer share their thoughts and views directly with the sultan, but could only communicate with the ruler through Ibrahim. By making Ibrahim his liaison, Suleiman hoped to be able to isolate himself from the political games between the pashas and at the same time make the figure of the sultan even more formidable and inaccessible.

Nevertheless, Ibrahim was a unprecedented Grand Vizier in many other ways. First, the relationship between the Grand Vizier and the Sultan has been only formal since Mehmed II. Especially after the creation of the new palace (Topkapi), the meeting of the two became even more ceremonial. Because Mehmed's new palace further increased the distance between the Sultan and his men. The second court was the one that accommodated the divan council, so the pashas could enter there under the leadership of the Grand Vizier, but the third, innermost court was the private area of ​​the Sultan, and no official of the council could enter, not even the Grand Vizier. Council members could meet with the sultan in a separate room only at the border of the two courtyards, on certain days after council discussions. In contrast, after Ibrahim's appointment, he was still free to enter to the inner court, to the sultan's private territory, just as previosuly, when he was in charge of the sultan's residence.

However, Ibrahim's appointment was also unusual in other respects. Ibrahim had not previously held any military or administrative duties, so he rose to the highest position without any experience. Although he took part in Suleiman's first two campaigns, he never held any responsible position, be it logistical, strategic or military, he was only with Suleiman during the campaign as his close friend. Since it was essential until the early 16th century that all positions could only be worn by experienced, fit people, Ibrahim’s sudden rise was shocking. Although surprising appointments have been made in the past too, they have always been preceded by marriage. If the sultan wanted to elevate a relatively low-ranking pasha to a high rank, he married off one of his sisters or daughters to the man. Ibrahim's rise in this aspect was also exceptional. He became a Grand Vizier, without a dynastic marriage. Never before had there been a Grand Vizier who won the position solely and exclusively for the love of the Sultan. It is precisely for this reason that the appointment of Ibrahim was sharply criticized by both the common people and the elite, and was even regarded as a bad and fatal omen for the Ottoman House. Suleiman could not let people to think like this, so he devised a clever plan to made them accept Ibrahim as his grand-vezir.

The contradictory marriage of Ibrahim Pasha

Suleiman’s ingenious plan consisted in preparing a marriage for Ibrahim that would force people to accept him as a Grand Vizier and as member of the political elite. The way to do this could not be to marry one of his sisters to Ibrahim. This would only have further increased the hatred of the people towards Ibrahim. That is why - and of course for other reasons - the theory that Ibrahim married to Hatice Sultan, Suleiman's sister is not true. This misunderstanding may be due to the fact that the wedding was followed by a very lavish ceremony that lasted for two weeks in Hippodrome Square. The event was also honored by the Sultan himself. Suleiman, his personal entourage, his court and the Janissaries were all present, and the whole city celebrated Ibrahim’s wedding. The splendor that characterized the wedding and the personal presence of the Sultan, prompting modern historians to believe that Ibrahim had married one of Suleiman’s sisters. However, for today this theory has been 100% refuted. So the reason for the huge celebration was not a princess bride, but the persuasion of the people.

The selection of the bride was also done with great care. Suleiman eventually chose a woman named Muhsine Hatun, who was none other than the granddaughter of Iskender pasha. Muhsine was the daughter of Mihrişah Hatun's sister. Mihrişah was who raised Ibrahim. So the two youngsters must have known each other long before the wedding. Because of this, of course, the question also arose in many people's minds that perhaps the two fall in love in their youth? And maybe Ibrahim finally get a good rank, so he could marry his beloved woman? The answer is a clear no. If there would have been love between the two, Suleiman would have arranged the marriage immediately after his accession to the throne, since Ibrahim already had great wealth and palaces, even before his appointment as Grand Vizier. On the other hand, there is evidence that Muhsine did not agree to the marriage at first. It was degrading for her to marry a former slave of her family. Eventually, of course, they convinced the woman that the wedding would bring great glory to their family, so in October 1523 the wedding was announced. At the same time, preparations began, for example, Suleiman ordered a huge amount of sugar from Cyprus for the ceremony. 

So it seems that the wedding was planned from the first minute as a grand event and was deliberately held in the spring, as the weather by then certainly allowed to celebrate at outside venue, so the people of Istanbul could celebrate with them. The fact that the wedding was planned with such immense public attention, as well as the exceptional splendor that characterized the entire wedding, and the dynasty’s so committed support for it all suggest that Ibrahim’s marriage was a huge event of political significance.

But why was this marriage so needed for Ibrahim?

Because Iskender Pasha’s family had tremendous political influence. Thus, the acceptance of such an influential family clearly indicates that Ibrahim is worthy to be a member of the political elite. So the wedding became one of the most important days of Ibrahim’s life and by then maybe Muhsine’s heart had softened towards her future husband. Ibrahim's happiness was heightened by the fact that his parents and two siblings could also be present at his wedding, as he brought them to Istanbul after his appointment as Grand Vizier. This act was considered relatively novel, but later several pashas acted in a similar way: they brought their families to Istanbul where they converted Islam.

After the bride’s first rejection, Ibrahim and Muhsine’s marriage eventually turned into a love marriage over the years. The phrases in their letters, such as “my dear, my love,” and “your lover Ibrahim, who is yearn for you,” all suggest that a sincere, loving relationship has finally developed between them. They also had a child, Mehmedşah. The couple remained married until the execution of the pasha. Contrary to legends, Suleiman did not execute the little son of Ibrahim Pasha, the child died of an illness a few years after his father, in 1539. Muhsine lived the rest of her life as a widow. She had a small mosque built in the Kumkapi district of Istanbul, known as the “Mosque of Ibrahim Pasa’s wife”.

Ibrahim Pasha, the Grand Vizier

Soon after his wedding, Ibrahim had to embark on a long journey to Egypt, where Ahmed Pasha, the beylerbey rebelled against the sultan and declared himself the sultan of Egypt. There was also a personal contrast between Ibrahim and Ahmed, as everyone expected Ahmed to be appointed grand-vezier after Piri Pasha's retirement. Certainly the rebellion was caused by the fact that Ibrahim became the Grand Vizier instead of Ahmed. Eventually, Ibrahim triumphed and executed Ahmed's pasha. However, he did not go home immediately, but traveled across the province, reforming the very backward military and administrative system of the province. Thus Ibrahim essentially modernized the Egyptian province.

As Grand-Vezier, Ibrahim was very open to Western culture and sought to reach a peaceful agreement with Western states. Because of this, a great many have condemned the pasha and suspected that in vain he had converted to Islam, he never denied his roots. This was certainly the case, but it is a fact that the interests of the empire coincided with those of Ibrahim. The empire was not in such a material, military, or political position that it should have been at war with the Western states. Of course, the common people did not understand this and extremely hated Ibrahim for it.

Ibrahim had an extraordinary yearly income: 150 000 ducat and Suleiman increased this over the years. With this money he could easily do building projects. He built mosques, schools, dervish lodges, hamams all over the Empire from Mecca to the Balkan. He had a special talent for architecture. One of Suleiman’s first activities as Sultan was to order the renovation of Topkapi Palace. In this, Ibrahim in particular took part and most of the renovation was carried out on the basis of his ideas. Moreover as a very cultured man he was devoted to arts, this is why he was the patron of poets and writers. 

Ibrahim could not keep himself out from the fight between the mothers of Suleiman's sons. Since his relationship with Hürrem, Suleiman's favorite consort, was notoriously bad, it was clear that he supported Mahidevran Hatun and her son against Hürrem and her children. As a close friend of Suleiman, he already knew Mahidevran from Manisa, and he was also present in the times around the birth of Mustafa, and was involved in the education of the prince. It was natural that he was on Mustafa's side. However, the alliance between the two was not always clear. As a child, Mustafa was extremly jealous on Ibrahim for spending so much time with his father. There is a known case when the Sultan first gave a spoon to Ibrahim at a communal meal, which made Mustafa furious. According to another story, the sultan sent a seddle with jewels to Ibrahim, but Mustafa also loved it, so he ordered Ibrahim to make the same seddle for him. Ibrahim, understanding the situation, gifted the saddle to the prince. The Grand Vizier's excellent situational awareness and intelligent conflict management softened Prince Mustafa and eventually their relationship was settled. It is difficult to say whether this alliance was also politically active. It was quite natural that, as Grand Vizier, Ibrahim sought to maintain a close relationship with the eldest prince.

Downfall

Ibrahim was never really popular, but after a while no one dared to speak out against him because they saw how much the Sultan liked him. As early as 1525, during a Janissary revolt, his palace was also targeted. And in 1526, this was repeated, but then, in addition to the Janissaries, simple people also revolted against him for placing bronze statues from Buda, which was forbidden in Islam, in the garden of his palace. He regularly gave more and more examples of his love and admiaration for Western culture. In addition, it was constant during his Grand-Vezirate that someone accused him of secretly continuing to live as a Christian.

Unfortunately, Ibrahim thought he was on an equal footing with the sultan. He regularly referred to himself in diplomatic meetings as "the real power behind the Ottoman Empire." Also, despite Ibrahim's best efforts, he was unable to fill the imperial treasury sufficiently, but rather he emptied it. In addition Hürrem Sultan, who already the wedded wife of the Sultan, the mother of six of his children, certainly sought to make the sultan aware of all Ibrahim's mistakes. The sultan may have had a hard time recognizing the situation and seeing what his loyal friend had become, so he was probably complaining about it to his wife, who was trying to convince him that Ibrahim had no place in the political life of the empire anymore.

We do not know what was the last drop in Sultan Suleiman’s glass, but finally in 1536, during Ramadan, he invited Ibrahim to a feast. The pasha unsuspectingly accepted the invitation. He wanted to return home to his palace after the dinner, however, Suleiman persuaded him to stay in his old room in Topkapi Palace that night. Ibrahim agreed. Soon after, the executioners went into his room and strangled him. This method of execution was a custom for members of the dynasty, the pashas were not usually executed in this way, but by beheading. Suleiman must wanted to execute Ibrahim quietly, quickly and, as an old friend, he gave him "clean" death.

Ibrahim's body was secretly taken away from the palace and was buried in an unmarked grave, probably near a dervish lodge. This is how the Sultan's old friend, his ally died. The man for whom, Suleiman broke several traditions.

Used sources: E. Turan - Marriage of Ibrahim Pasha; L. Peirce - The Imperial Harem; C. Imber - The Ottoman Empire 1300-1650; S. Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the world around it; L. Peirce - Empress of the East

*    *    *

A sok különösen színes egyéniség közül, akik I. Szulejmánt vették körül, a „makbul” (kedvenc) és „maktul” (kivégzett) becenevekkel jelzett Ibrahim Pasa volt az egyik legérdekesebb karakter.

Eredete és korai élete rabszolgaként

Ibrahim nagyjából egyidős lehetett Szulejmánnal, 1495 körül születhetett Parga-ban, a mai Északkelet-Görögország területén. Valószínű azonban, hogy nem görög volt, hiszen egy a horváthoz közeli szláv dialektust beszélt. Ez nem meglepő, ugyanis a területen rengeteg szláv kisebbség élt, így az is lehet, hogy Ibrahim közülük származott, vagy kevert családból. Egyes források szerint albán volt. Családi hátteréről nem tudunk sokat, csupán annyit, hogy édesapja halász vagy tengerész volt. 

Az, hogy mikor és hogyan szakították el családjától a mai napig vitatárgyát képezi. Vannak régi legendák, melyek erősen tartják magukat, pedig semmi bizonyíték nincs rájuk. Az egyik ilyen történet szerint török kalózok ejtették fogságba (esetleg a devsirme rendszeren keresztül), majd a rabszolgapiacon találta magát. Ott egy maniszai özvegyasszony vette meg, majd kiemelkedő oktatásban részesítve felnevelte és megtanította hangszeren játszani. Hamarosan Szulejmán herceg az erdőben sétálva meghallotta Ibrahim hegedűjátékát és azonnal elcsábult tőle, összeismerkedett a hasonló korú fiúval és magával vitte hercegi udvartartásába. Ott aztán idővel szoros barátság szövődött a két fiatal között. Bár igen kedves történet, valószínűleg nem igaz.

Van egy másik történet, mely sokkal hihetőbb és több közvetett bizonyíték is utal erre. Eszerint Ibrahim Bayezid szultán uralkodása alatt egy háború során (valamikor 1499 és 1502 között) esett török fogságba, nem máséba, mint a bosnyák beglerbég, Iszkender pasa fogságába. A pasa később lányainak adta a fiút, akik felnevelték és megfelelő oktatásban részesítették szolgájukat. A pasa lánya, Mihrişah, becenevén Haci asszony volt az, aki felnevelte Ibrahimot. Ibrahim későbbi leveleiben is gyakran utal az asszonyra szeretettel: „a jócselekedetek koronája és a jó dolgok végtelensége, tisztasága tartson az ítélet napjáig”. A nő végül 1527-ben hunyt el, Ibrahim pedig rengeteg imát mondatott a lelki üdvéért.

Szulejmán herceg barátjaként

Ibrahim élete fenekestül felfordult, amikor - feltehetőleg 1514-ben - találkozott Szulejmán herceggel Edirnében. Ibrahim éppen Iszkender pasa lányának kíséretében tartózkodott Edirnében, míg Szulejmán herceget apja küldte oda, hogy vigyázza a birodalom nyugati határát, amíg ő keleten háborúzik. Iszkender pasa családja igen befolyásos volt, így nem meglepő, hogy találkoztak a herceggel edirnei tartózkodása idején. Azt nem tudni, hogy Ibrahim és Szulejmán egyszerűen barátságot kötöttek e Edirnében, ezért tartott távozásakor Szulejmánnal; vagy Iszkender pasa családja ajándékként adta a tanult és művelt Ibrahimot a hercegnek. 

Akárhogyan is, Ibrahim, Szulejmán herceggel tartott annak manisai tartományába, ahol hosszú és szoros barátságuk idővel kialakult. Mindketten ambíciózus, intelligens fiatalok voltak, így minden bizonnyal együtt szövögették álmaikat a birodalom jövőjéről. Szulejmán nehéz időket élt hercegként, hiába volt egyetlen örökös, apja árgus szemekkel figyelte, fia mikor követ el valamilyen hibát. A fiatal hercegnek nagy szüksége volt egy megbízható és megértő barátra. Ez a kiszolgáltatott időszak és egymásrautaltság lehetett az, amelynek következtében ilyen szoros barátság alakulhatott ki közöttük. Ibrahim fizetése ebben az időben 3 asper volt egy napra az egyik maniszai jegyzőkönyv szerint. Ebben a jegyzőkönyvben úgy szerepel, mint az ötödik rabszolga, “Ibrahim az albán”.

Szulejmán szultán barátjaként

Amikor Szulejmán 1520-ban trónra lépett, minden pozíciót apja öreg pasái töltöttek be a divánban. Ez nem tette egyszerűvé a hatalomátvételt Szulejmán számára, hiszen a pasák nem fogadták el a fiatalt, mint egyeduralkodó. Szulejmánnak ugyanis éveken keresztül el kellett rejtse érdeklődését a politika és trón iránt, hogy életben maradhasson, emiatt pedig a pasák alkalmatlannak gondolták. Mindeközben azonban Szulejmán és Ibrahim nagyon okosan kitervelték, hogyan vehetik át az irányítást a birodalom fölött. Szulejmán nem volt elég erős ahhoz, hogy egyszerűen elküldje a neki nem tetsző pasákat, emiatt kihasználta a közöttük lévő ellentétet, ezzel belülről bomlasztva őket. 

Mindeközben Ibrahimot kinevezte lakrészének fejévé, aki így állandó jelleggel a szultán mellett lehetett. Valószínűleg Szulejmán ebben a korai időszakban nagyban támaszkodott barátjára és minden bizonnyal közösen tárgyalták meg az éppen aktuális politikai helyzetet is. Emellett Szulejmán nyilvánosan is elismerte és bemutatta barátját, akivel mindenét megosztotta. A velencei követ úgy írt ekkor Ibrahimról, mint a szultán szíve és lélegzete. Emellett beszámolt Ibrahim külleméről is: “Ibrahim vékony, alacsony ember, kis arccal, igen sápatag”. 

1523 júniusában végül Szulejmán képes volt nyugdíjazni Piri Pasát, a nagyvezírt, aki a legtöbb gondot okozta számára. Szulejmántól mindenki azt várta, hogy az általa egyébként kedvelt, Ahmed Pasát fogja kinevezni Piri Pasa helyére, azonban mindenki megdöbbenésére Ibrahim Agát nevezte ki a birodalom legmagasabb hivatalának betöltésére.

Az új nagyvezír

Ibrahim közeli barátja és bizalmasa volt Szulejmánnak hercegsége óta és kinevezése egyértelműen annak volt köszönhető, hogy Szulejmán szabadulni akart apja embereitől és saját szabályai szerint játszani. Szulejmánnak emellett elege volt a divánon belül dúló politikai harcokból, hiszen a pasák egymással való csatározása a birodalom felemelkedésének rovására ment. Ezért meg akarta állítani a versengést, Ibrahim felemelkedése pedig meggátolta, hogy az elit tagjai egyáltalán a szultán közelébe juthassanak. Ezzel nem csak, hogy minden pasa elveszítette a kegyenci státuszát – ezzel egyenlővé válva a többiekkel –, de a gondolatait, nézeteit sem oszthatta meg többé közvetlenül a szultánnal, hanem Ibrahimon keresztül tudott csupán kommunikálni az uralkodóval. Azzal, hogy Ibrahimot tette meg kapcsolattartójává, Szulejmán azt remélte, hogy el tudja magát szigetelni a pasák közti politikai játszmáktól és ugyanakkor még félelmetesebbé és elérhetetlenebbé teheti a szultán figuráját. 

Mindazonáltal sok más szempontból is formabontó nagyvezír volt Ibrahim. Először is, a nagyvezír és a szultán kapcsolata II. Mehmed óta csupán formális volt. Főleg az új palota (Topkapi) létrehozása után vált még ceremoniálisabbá a két személy találkozása. Mehmed új palotája ugyanis még tovább növelte a távolságot a szultán és emberei között. A második udvar volt az, mely helyt adott a tanácsnak, így ide a nagyvezír vezetése alatt beléphettek vezírei is, ám a harmadik – legbelső – udvar a szultán privát területét képezte, ide pedig a tanács egyetlen hivatalnoka sem léphetett be, még a nagyvezír sem. A tanács tagjai egy külön szobában találkozhattak csupán a szultánnal a két udvar határán, bizonyos napokon a tanács megbeszélések után. Ezzel szemben Ibrahim nagyvezírsége után, továbbra is szabadon bejárhatott a belső udvarba – a szultán privát területére –, épp úgy, mint kinevezése előtt a szultán lakrészének felelőseként. 

Azonban Ibrahim kinevezése más szempontból is rendhagyó volt. Ibrahimnak nem volt korábban semmilyen katonai vagy adminisztratív feladata, így minden tapasztalat nélkül emelkedett a legmagasabb pozícióba. Részt vett ugyan Szulejmán első két hadjáratán, de sosem viselt semmilyen felelősségteljes pozíciót, legyen az logisztikai, stratégiai vagy hadászati, csak Szulejmán mellett volt a hadjárat alatt, mint közeli barátja. Mivel a kora 16. századig alapvető volt, hogy minden pozíciót csak tapasztalt, rátermett emberek viselhettek, Ibrahim hirtelen felemelkedése sokkoló volt. Ugyan korábban is történtek meglepő kinevezések, ezeket mindig megelőzte egy házasság. Ha a szultán egy viszonylag alacsony rangú pasát akart magas rangra emelni, hozzáadta a férfihoz valamely lánytestvérét vagy lánygyermekét. Ibrahim felemelkedése e téren is kivételes volt. Egyenesen a lakrész felügyelőből lett nagyvezír, dinasztikus házasság nélkül. Korábban soha nem volt nagyvezír, aki csak és kizárólag a szultán szeretete miatt nyerte el a pozíciót. Ibrahim kinevezését éppen emiatt mind a köznép, mint az elit élesen kritizálta, sőt rossz és végzetes ómenként tekintettek rá az Oszmán Ház szempontjából. Ezt nem hagyhatta Szulejmán, így fondorlatos tervet eszelt ki Ibrahim elfogadtatására.

Ibrahim Pasa ellentmodásokkal teli házassága

Szulejmán zseniális terve abból állt, hogy olyan házasságot készít elő Ibrahim számára, amivel az emberek kénytelenek lesznek őt elfogadni, mint nagyvezír. Ennek módja nem lehetett az, hogy egyik testvérét adja Ibrahimhoz. Ez csak tovább növelte volna az emberek gyűlöletét Ibrahim irányába. Épp ezért - és természetesen más okok miatt is - az az elmélet, miszerint Ibrahim Hatice szultánát vette volna feleségül, nem igaz. Ez a félreértés abból eredhet, hogy az esküvőt nagyon pazar ünnepség követte, mely két hétig tartott a Hippodrom téren. Az eseményt maga a szultán is megtisztelte jelenlétével, egy, az Ibrahim Hippodromon lévő palotájában külön neki épített kioskból figyelve azt. Ott volt Szulejmán, személyes kísérete, udvara és a janicsárok, valamint az egész város, így mindenki Ibrahim esküvőjét ünnepelte. A pompa, mely az esküvőt jellemezte, az, hogy a szultán személyesen is jelen volt rajta, a modern történészeket arra buzdította, hogy azt higgyék, Ibrahim Szulejmán egyik testvérét vette el nőül. Azonban mára ez 100%-ban megcáfolódott. A hatalmas ünnepség oka tehát nem egy hercegnői menyasszony volt, hanem az emberek meggyőzése. 

A menyasszony kiválasztása is nagy gonddal zajlott. Szulejmán végül egy Muhsine Hatun nevű nőt választott, aki nem volt más, mint Iszkender pasa - Ibrahim elfogójának - unokája. Muhsine az Ibrahimot felnevelő Mihrişah asszony testvérének lánya volt. Így a két fiatal minden bizonnyal ismerte egymást, már jóval az esküvő előtt. Emiatt természetesen felmerült sokakban az a kérdés is, hogy talán még fiatalkorukban szerelem szövődhetett kettejük között? Ibrahim pedig végre a megfelelő rang birtokában feleségül kérhette őt? A válasz egyértelmű nem. Ha szerelem lett volna kettejük között, Szulejmán trónralépése után azonnal elrendezte volna a házasságot közöttük, hiszen Ibrahim már nagyvezíri kinevezése előtt is nagy vagyonnal, palotákkal rendelkezett a szultán jóvoltából. Másrészről pedig bizonyítékok vannak arra, hogy Muhsine eleinte nem egyezett bele a házasságba. Degradált ugyanis neki, hogy egy korábbi rabszolgájukhoz menjen nőül. Végül természetesen meggyőzték a nőt, hogy az esküvő nagy dicsőséget fog hozni a családjuknak, így 1523 októberében bejelentették az esküvőt. Ezzel együtt pedig az előkészületek is megkezdődtek, így például Szulejmán hatalmas mennyiségű cukrot rendelt Ciprusról az ünnepségre. 

Úgy tűnik tehát, hogy az esküvő az első perctől kezdve grandiózus eseménynek volt tervezve és szándékosan tavasszal került megrendezésre, hiszen az időjárás ekkorra biztosan megengedte a külső helyszínen való ünneplést, így pedig Isztambul népe velük együtt ünnepelhetett. Az, hogy ilyen hatalmas nyilvános odafigyeléssel zajlott az esküvő tervezése, valamint a kivételes pompa, ami jellemezte az egész esküvőt, illetve az, hogy a dinasztia ilyen elkötelezetten támogatta azt, mind mind arra utalnak, hogy Ibrahim házassága egy hatalmas, politikai jelentőséggel bíró esemény volt. 

Na de miért volt jó Ibrahimnak ez a házasság?

Azért, mert Iszkender Pasa családja hatalmas politikai befolyással rendelkezett. Így az, ha egy ilyen befolyásos család elfogadja Ibrahimot vejeként, egyértelműen jelzi, hogy Ibrahim méltó arra, hogy a politikai elit tagja legyen. Az esküvő Ibrahim életének egyik legfontosabb napja lett tehát és addigra talán Muhsine szíve is megenyhült leendő férje irányába. Ibrahim boldogságát tetézte, hogy szülei és két testvére is jelen lehetett az esküvőjén, őket ugyanis nagyvezírré való kinevezése után Isztambulba hozatta, ahol áttértek az iszlámra. Ez a cselekedet viszonylag újszerűenek számított, később azonban több pasa is hasonló módon járt el.

A menyasszony első elutasítása után végül Ibrahim és Muhsine házassága az évek alatt szerelmi házassággá alakult. A leveleikben előforduló szófordulatok, mint a „kedvesem, szerelmem” és a „szeretőd Ibrahim, aki epekedik érted”, mind mind arra utal, hogy végül őszinte, szerető kapcsolat alakult ki közöttük. Egy gyermekük is született, Mehmedşah. A pár házas maradt egészen a pasa kivégzéséig. A legendákkal ellentétben, Szulejmán nem végeztette ki Ibrahim Pasa kisfiát, a gyermek néhány évvel később, 1539-ben betegségben hunyt el. Muhsine asszony özvegyként élte le élete hátralévő részét. Muhsine asszony egy kis mecsetet építtetett Isztambul Kumkapi kerületben, mely mecset úgy ismert, mint „Ibrahim Pasa feleségének mecsete”, és épp azon a környéken van, amelyet később róla neveztek el.

Ibrahim Pasa, a nagyvezír

Esküvője után Ibrahimnak hamarosan hosszú útra kellett indulnia, ugyanis Egyiptom beglerbégje, Ahmed pasa fellázadt a szultán ellen és kinvezte magát Egyiptom szultánjává. Ibrahim és Ahmed között személyes ellentét is húzódott, hiszen mindenki Ahmed pasa kinevezésére számított Piri pasa nyugdíjazása után. Minden bizonnyal az a tény okozta a lázadást, hogy Ahmed helyett Ibrahim lett a nagyvezír. Végül Ibrahim győzedelmeskedett és kivégeztette Ahmed pasát. Azonban nem indult haza azonnal, hanem körbeutazta a tartományt, megreformálta az igen elmaradt katonai és adminisztrációs megoldásokat. Így Ibrahim lényegében korszerűsítette az egyiptomi tartományt. 

Ibrahim nagyvezírsége alatt igen nyitott volt a nyugati kultúrára és igyekezett békés megállapodást kötni a nyugati államokkal. Emiatt nagyon sokan elítélték a pasát és azzal gyanúsították, hogy hiába tért át az iszlámra, sosem tagadta meg gyökereit. Ez minden bizonnyal így is volt, ám tény, hogy a birodalom érdekei egyeztek Ibrahim érdekeivel. Nem volt olyan anyagi, katonai és politikai helyzetben a birodalom, hogy háborúskodnia kellett volna a nyugati államokkal. A közemberek azonban természetesen ezt nem így látták és rendkívül gyűlölték Ibrahimot ezért. 

Ibrahim rendkívüli éves jövedelmet tudhatott magáénak: 150 000 ducatot, melyet Szulejmán évente emelt. Ennyi pénzzel könnyedén tudott építkezési projekteket végrehajtani. Többek között építtetett mecseteket, iskolákat, dervis szállásokat, fürdőket a birodalom egész területén Mekkától a Balkánig. Különös tehetsége volt az építészethez, melyet jövedelmeztetni tudott Isztambulban is. Szulejmán egyik első tevékenysége szultánként az volt, hogy parancsot adott a Topkapi Palota felújítására. Ebben pedig Ibrahim különösen kivette részét és a felújítás nagyrésze az ő ötletei alapján valósult meg. Emellett mint igen művelt férfi, különösen elkötelezett volt a művészetek iránt, így a költők és írók támogatójának is számított. 

Nagyvezírsége alatt nem tudott kimaradni a Szulejmán fiainak anyjai között dúló harcokból sem. Mivel Hürremmel, Szulejmán kedvencével köztudottan rossz volt a viszonya, egyértelmű volt, hogy vele és gyermekeivel szemben Mahidevran Hatunt támogatta. Szulejmán közeli barátjaként már Manisából is ismerhette Mahidevrant, emellett jelen volt a Musztafa születése körüli időkben is, részt vett a herceg nevelésében. Természetes volt, hogy Musztafa pártján volt. Azonban kettejük szövetsége nem volt mindig egyértelmű. Gyermekként Musztafa kifejezetten féltékeny volt Ibrahimra, amiért az olyan sok időt tölt apjával. Ismert egy eset, amikor egy közös étkezésnél a szultán Ibrahimnak nyújtott először kanalat, ettől Musztafa feldühödött. Egy másik történet szerint pedig a szultán egy díszes, ékköves nyerget küldött Ibrahimnak, ami Musztafa tetszését is igen elnyerte. Musztafa herceg megparancsolta Ibrahimnak, hogy csináltasson számára egy ugyanilyet. Ibrahim megértve a helyzetet, a nyereget a hercegnek ajándékozta. A nagyvezír remek helyzetfelismerése és intelligens konfliktuskezelése meglágyította Musztafa herceget és végül viszonyuk rendeződött. Nehéz megmondani, hogy politikailag is aktív volt-e ez a szövetség. Az ugyanis teljesen természetes volt, hogy nagyvezírként Ibrahim igyekezett közeli viszonyt fenntartani a legidősebb herceggel.

A hanyatlás

Ibrahim sosem volt igazán népszerű, egy idő után senki sem mert szót emelni ellene, mert látták a szultán mennyire kedveli, azonban továbbra sem szerették. Már 1525-ben is egy janicsár lázadás során palotája is a célkeresztbe került. 1526-ban pedig ez megismétlődött, ekkor azonban a janicsárok mellett egyszerű emberek is fellázadtak ellene, amiért az iszlámban tiltott Budáról származó bronz szobrokat helyezett ki palotájának kertjében. Túlzott nyugatiasságára rendszeresen adott újabb és újabb példákat. Emellett pedig nagyvezírsége alatt állandó volt, hogy megvádolta valaki, miszerint titokban továbbra is keresztényként él, az iszlám vallástcsupán alcaként vette fel. 

Sajnálatos módon úgy gondolta, hogy egyenrangú a szultánnal. A diplomáciai találkozókon rendszeresen úgy hivatkozott magára, mint a "valódi hatalom az Oszmán Birodalom mögött". Valamint, Ibrahim legnagyobb igyekezete ellenére sem tudta kellőképpen megtölteni a birodalmi kincstárat, inkább ürítette azt. Emellett minden bizonnyal Hürrem szultána, aki eddigre már a szultán hites felesége volt, hat gyermekének anyja, is igyekezett elérni, hogy a szultán Ibrahim minden ballépéséről tudomást szerezzen. A szultánnak nehéz lehetett felismerni a helyzetet és látnia, hogy hűséges barátja mivé lett, így valószínűleg nejének panaszkodott erről, aki igyekezett őt meggyőzni arról, hogy Ibrahimnak nincs helye tovább a birodalom politikai életében. 

Nem tudhatjuk, hogy mi volt az utolsó csepp Szulejmán szultán poharában, de végül 1536-ban, a Ramadán idején magához hívta Ibrahim pasát lakomázni. A pasa gyanútlanul elfogadta a meghívást, majd a vacsora után haza kívánt térni palotájába. Szulejmán azonban meggyőzte, hogy maradjon régi szobájában aznap éjjel. Ibrahim beleegyezett. Nemsokkal később a kivégzők bementek szobájába és megfojtották. Ez a kivégzési mód a dinasztia tagjai számára volt szokás, a pasákat általában nem ilyen módon végezték ki, hanem lefejezéssel. Szulejmán minden bizonnyal csendben, gyorsan akarta kivégeztetni Ibrahimot és mint régi barátnak megadta neki a "tiszta" halált.

Ibrahim testét titokban vitték el a palotából és temették el egy jelöletlen sírban, valószínűleg egy dervis szállás közelében. Így végezte tehát a szultán régi barátja, szövetségese, aki miatt több tradíciót is megtört.

Felhasznált források:  E. Turan - Marriage of Ibrahim Pasha; L. Peirce - The Imperial Harem; C. Imber - The Ottoman Empire 1300-1650; S. Faroqhi - The Ottoman Empire and the world around it; L. Peirce - Empress of the East

[mimimimikkyu]

fuck it Rowan rambling

What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about? Ro. It’s a shortened version of their name so it came about kinda obviously. Leon and Hop are the only ones that really use it though. Their dad has called them little litten since they were a child. They were an active kid and acted a bit like a cat sometimes.

What is the color of your OC’s eyes/hair/skin? Brown eyes. Short side shaved hair with the top dyed purple and the side shave naturally black. Warm tan skin.

How tall is your OC? 5’5”, they’re not short but a lot of people they know are taller than them. Even if only by a couple inches. They find this really funny.

What is a noticeable physical attribute of your OC? Their hair and their pointy canines.

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night? Normally they wear a black sleeveless turtleneck and high waisted pants or shorts along with black boots. Their battling/champion wear is about the same as Leon’s with a different cape. As for formal wear they would go with something like this or this

What is one word you would use to describe your OC’s appearances? Mess

Does your OC have any markings, such as a birthmark or a scar? They have a few knicks and scars from general farm work.. Nothing really stands out about those to the regular person though.

How does your OC talk/what does your OC’s voice sound like?I’d have to come back to this one. I haven’t heard anyone who gives me their vibes yet.

What does your OC’s bedroom look like? Their living area? somethin like this but with more color probably

What does your OC keep in a special drawer? Ask Rose :)

What is your OC’s relationship with their mother? Nonexistent/strained since she left. If they’re honest they’d prefer not to think about her all that much. They do have a step mother but they were older by the time their father met her and thus they’re closer as friends. However if they need motherly advice they’re not afraid to ask.

What is your OC’s relationship with their father? Good. He’s very open and supportive of them and would give up a fair bit to help them out even if they won’t say a thing. They look to him for advice and call him often now that they’ve left the farm/home.

How many siblings does your OC have and what is their relationship with them? They have none biologically. They do consider Hop like a little brother however and they get along just fine.

Who is the mother and/or father figure in your OC’s life? Leon’s mother was like another mother while they were growing up. Even when he wasn’t home they were over often. Either as friendly visits or to help watch Hop for a day.

What was your OC’s childhood like? They moved to Galar when they were 7 with family (their Father, his parents, and their mother) and onto a farm in which they lived and worked. From there on it was mostly normal but behind the scenes there was a fair bit of emotional abuse being thrown their way by their mother. It led to a lot of nights spent running over to friends' houses to get away or crying in the barn.

What is your OC’s strongest childhood memory? Why and how has that impacted him/her? There’s a few things. Firstly Leon’s introduction and want to include them in whatever he did. It sparked a lifelong friendship between the two. Even when he became champion they still tried to stay as close as possible. The other is when their mother started their abuse. Constant yelling at them, telling them they weren’t good enough, they weren’t smart, they never cared about anyone, no one cared about them, they weren’t enough of a “girl” for their her tastes. Things like that. None of that has left them since their mother left/ their father caught on and kicked her out. But all those things are still in the back of their head nagging them to this day.

What is your OC’s imagination like? Half the books they owned while growing up were action fantasy and the other half were picture books of places they thought were pretty. So a lot of their imagination is still things like that. Imagining what it would be like to be in those pretty places, imagining dragon and fairy types roaming around in adventures in those places. Going out and doing those adventures themselves. Sometimes a little bit of romance gets involved in there. They fancy themselves the rogue that charms a noble in those cases.

How many times did your OC move as a child? Which area was their favorite? Just the once, it was a big move that stuck with them but that’s all. Since they’ve known Galar and the farm longer than they ever did their first home it’s their favorite.

What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them? They like them and they’re good at handling them too. As mentioned earlier on they’d babysat Hop and when they’d go back home to visit extended family they’d always be around the kids there too. Having them is a different story. It’s something they’re really conflicted on. They’re not entirely sure they’d be a good parent and they need to know that whoever they’re with they could trust them to actually parent as well.

What kind of parent would your OC be? Same as their dad; open, supportive, and would drop everything to help their child out. Also puts their entire being into storytelling and play time.

Who are your OC’s closest relatives? Their father and while they were alive their grandparents, grandmother especially. Their father and grandfather showed them everything they know about farm work and their father always encouraged them to try new things but know their limits. Their grandmother showed them everything she knew about cooking and passed on some sewing knowledge to them as well.

Who is/are your OC’s closest friend(s)? Both Leon and Sonia have been their best friends since they moved to Potswick. They confide in them both for different reasons but rely on them both equally.

Who are the people your OC surrounds themselves with? Close friends, family, their pokemon team, a lover. They like other people but it’s a bit harder now for them to hang around random people.

Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates? People who lose their temper easily, people who scream to talk, the press.

If your OC has a soulmate, who is it? Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?

Why does your OC and their soulmate work so well together?Most of the people in his life tend to kiss up to him a lot or mince their words around him, not Rowan. Rowan, whether they actually thought their words through or just blurted them out, tends to be a bit more blunt and they are not afraid to be so what-so-ever. Grounds him a bit when he needs it. He grounds them as well. He’s quick to pick up on when they’re feeling down and while he isn’t quite privy to everything that happened to them yet he’ll swoop right in and quell any notion they have that’s negative about themselves. Also he's pretty gotten pretty good at telling when they're about to blurt something out and can stop and get them to think.

What are some things your OC admires about their soulmate? His smile, his deep laugh and the way the lines around his eyes crinkle during both those things. His smell is another bonus, they may have stolen a jacket from him just to wear it on nights when he’s not around because of it.

How did your OC and his/her soulmate meet? During the season, as a somewhat belated birthday gift Leon brought them out to Wydon to watch an exhibition match and hang out for a weekend. During which They happened to meet up with the uhhhh, the man. Didn’t go great according to them but it is a part of their story nonetheless. They didn’t get together or really see much of each other for about two years after that when Rowan finally started the gym challenge themself however.

What is your OC’s level of education? High school. They opted to work the farm instead of pursuing much else afterwards. That’s how they grew up, it’s what they knew and honestly they enjoyed it.

Did your OC participate in extracurricular activities, and if so, what were they? Not officially, however despite not taking up being a trainer they’d always ask Leon about it and he was more than happy to share the knowledge.

What is your OC’s opinion of school? What kind of student were they? Average. They just learned what was needed and did a boat load of reading.

What subjects did your OC excel at? foreign language but they cheated technically because they already spoke the language they took at home with their grandparents. Shh, no one has to know.

What subjects interested your OC? Literature specifically, they liked learning about classics. While they never took anything related to it, they admired theater from afar.

What is your OC’s dream job and/or current profession? Currently they’re Galar’s newest champion. In the past they worked on the family farm and would go back to it should they ever step down. In their dreams if they had to settle down they’d like to be a writer of some sort in a house in the middle of nowhere.

How is your OC working towards his/her dream job and/or achieved his/her current profession? For the farm work it’s not really a matter of working towards it. They’ll always have that place back home. For the writing They’d have to actually write.

What are your OC’s thoughts/opinions of his/her current profession? They’re conflicted and entirely unsure they belong in the position they’re in. Even during the gym challenge they weren’t sure they’d ever get as far as the final tournament. A lot of that inner turmoil has to do with their past but they’re good at putting on a show and hiding it. At home they slink into Rose’s arms and tell him the worries of the day and he does his best to give advice or just affirmation.

What is your OC’s biggest dream? Being on the beach, resting in the water, floating away, not a care in the world. That’s about half of what they did when they went back home to see the extended family so it invokes a good fuzzy warm feeling in them.

How does your OC react to and handle stress? Depends on the stressor honestly. If it’s something a bit beyond control they tend to get real quiet and frustrated.

How does your OC handle anger? Not well, they’re afraid of being angry. They’re afraid of being like their mom. And they’re definitely afraid of any anger towards them.

How does your OC handle grief? It’s a multi-step process. They withdraw for a while, cry a lot. They know it’s important to let other people in to help but at least for a few days they just feel the need to be alone.

What is your OC’s greatest fear? Being completely and utterly alone.

What makes your OC happy? Reading, playing or battling with their pokemon, hanging around their friends in a group or one on one, being around Rose.

What kind of sense of humor does your OC have? A bad one.

What are some things that greatly upset your OC? You want like a list? Like memories of their mother for one. The loss of their grandparents. Memories of the darkest day and how they felt during that.

What are some things that annoy your OC? Being asked too many questions, especially when they’re not really given time to think. They know speaking without thought isn’t exactly their strong point so they’re not too keen on being made to do it.

If your OC has them, what are some regrets they have? Being too afraid to tell their father or even their grandparents about what happened with their mother.

How easily does your OC forgive? It takes a bit. They have to be 100% sure the person they’re forgiving means what they say even if it takes a while to get to that point.

What are some of your OC’s vices? Sweets and homemade bread. Absolutely cannot resist.

If your OC experienced trauma, what was it? Emotional abuse. I would consider the Darkest Day and the part they ended up playing in it traumatic for them as well. The entire ordeal was a part of their nightmares for a while.

What secrets does your OC have? Even though they had unofficially broken things off with Rose when the incident occurred they never quite stopped thinking of him. While he wasn't their first, he was one of the first people they could genuinely say they’d fallen for and they’d always played with the idea of seeing him again before they actually bit the bullet and did. Whiiiich was also a secret along with their initial relationship at first as well for about half a year after they got together again. Although eventually their father and Leon came to learn about it before anyone else in that time.

What are some of your OC’s morals? Oh god I wish I knew.

What are some of your OC’s motivations? Family, helping others, bettering themselves

What is the health of your OC? Good, they’re fairly active and can do quite a bit of heavy lifting.

Does your OC think with their head or heart? Oh Rowan doesn’t think, are you kidding me? Haha oh god. Heart though.

What are your OC’s thoughts on death? They choose not to think about it for the most part. Yeah it’s gonna happen but they’re young they have plenty of time to not care.

What are some of your OC’s strengths? Will still do things despite being apprehensive about them. If they’re good they’re good if they’re bad, it weighs on them a bit but they’re learning to not hold it against themselves.

What are some of your OC’s weaknesses? They still haven’t learned to not hold things against themselves and they’re always afraid of someone close turning on them or leaving without a word to the point where they’ll show visible discomfort in certain situations.

How does your OC take criticism? Depends. If it’s constructive they mull it over for a while and try to incorporate whatever it is in any way they can. If it’s not, they’re a bit miffed and flat out walk away from it.

What does your OC think of themselves? Fluctuate between I’m a bad bitch you can’t kill me and oh sad little baby full of feelings.

If your OC could change one thing about themselves, what would it be? The fact that they just kind of Say shit.

What is the general impression your OC gives other people? People can see them as a bit crass. Sometimes a little lost.

How emotionally/mentally vulnerable is your OC with other people? Depends on the people. Totally with their father and often Rose now as well. Leon and Sonia are also people they can be vulnerable with as well but not to the same extent as the other two.

How does your OC display love? Physically. For someone they’re dating it’s little kisses on the cheek or forehead, hand holding, light touches, and cuddling up to them. For friends and family it’s hugs, leaning on them, and light hearted jokes. They also like to cook for the people they love as well.

What are some habits your OC has picked up? Leg bouncing when they’re impatient Twirling and playing with little strands of hair Overly exaggerated gestures when they’re excited Needing to have something, even if it’s just snacks, prepared for any sort of company. They'll pick up little inflections from people they're close to as well

What is your OC’s favorite drink? Juice… Like fruit juice, honestly. The sweeter the fruit the better.

What is your OC’s favorite food? Very very simple but homemade bread with a cut of some kind of salty cheese.

What is your OC’s favorite sweet? Chocolate, cake especially. Double especially if the icing is chocolate as well.

What is your OC’s favorite season? Winter. The crisp air and the clothes they get to bundle up in make them one happy baby. Also cocoa is a huge, huge bonus.

What is your OC’s favorite kind of weather? Bright, clear sky, sun shining down and a gentle breeze rolling through the fields during the day with a slow rolling storm moving in in the evening when they’re all settled in for the night.

What is your OC’s favorite book? Anything fantasy/adventure.

What is your OC’s favorite movie and/or TV show? I don’t know the deep lore on the full entertainment industry in the pokemon universe but I do know I sure do like to draw them as the Phantom a lot. So they get to be into The Phantom of the Opera as well.

What is your OC’s favorite kind music (and song if there is one)? Theatre music and jazz.

What is your OC’s favorite form of entertainment? It was game consoles with friends when they were younger, and admittedly they still play on those from time to time. But now it’s mostly reading and or cuddling up and watching a movie or an exhibition match that they’re not in.

What is your OC’s favorite color? Purple

What is your OC’s favorite scent? That aftershave Rose be wearin. The smell of a clean pasture. The salt on the air on the shore of a beach. Comfort foods as they're cooking.

What is your OC’s favorite animal? They can’t pick a pokemon that would be playing favorites and they don’t wanna do that. Variks

What is your OC’s favorite sound? Laughter, Variks’ little chitters, Thatch’s grumbles when he rolls in his sleep, wooloo and dubwools bleating, wind moving through an open field, waves as they crash on a surface, familiar laughter, and Rose's voice.

What is your OC’s favorite time of day? Morning. They love the still before the day truly starts and the colors in the sky as the sun rises.

What is your OC’s favorite kind of ice cream? Chocolate with any kind of sweet chunks in it.

What is your OC’s favorite dinosaur? Tyrantrum

Ask your own question. why

[itslocsdiggs]

Taste of Honey

1 2.1

Without further ado, the long awaited second chapter of this lovely song fic(for a song that doesn’t quite exist yet). I’ve got my ducks in a row, so I won’t let the other updates stay so long anymore! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count 2k+

Triggers: none so far

Tags: @iknowthekoolaidflavor @daveeddiggsit @moondustmemories 

The two days flew by quickly. You spent the day fixing your hair and makeup to go on the unusually early date. You wanted to look good for him, so you brought out your sexiest and most formal dress with a slit up the thigh and a cape to keep you warm. Thankfully, he’d offered to pick you up because your car stalled on the way to class, so you had to leave it at the mechanic and walk back home.

Your roommate Nika greeted you with tea and pancakes. She had been a good roommate and friend since your junior year of college, so you stuck with her.

“I heard giggling and soft moans coming from the living room last night,” she says seriously.

“Would you stop! I was not moaning for any reason. I was on a video call,” you reached for the jar of sweetener to pour into her tea.

“Well, spill the deets, so I don’t have to make stuff up.”

You took a long sip staring at your expectant friend over the rim of your cup. “A gorgeous man came into the cafe yesterday, and he was just typing away on his laptop, so I kept refilling his beverages. He was grateful, so he left me a huge tip.”

“Sounds like he was trying to hit on you.”

“He admitted it. And I am not complaining, okay? He is so fine.”

“So what does he do, Y/N?” Nika asks in a sing-songy tone.

“He does...” You pause for a beat. “I actually don’t know.”

Her eyes wide, “I can’t believe you. Google him, now. You are not waiting for your date!””

“Okay, miss bossy,” you admonish, reaching for your phone. “I was gonna work it into the conversation.”

The search was quick and conclusive. Nika had her hand on her hip expectantly. “Well, what does he do”?

You sigh, “He’s a successful writer, poet, and business mogul. Ooh! And here are some sexy photos with him and his dog.” You smiled, scrolling through his social media.

“Please stay focused, Y/N. You’ve only got a few hours.”

“Okay, okay. Though it says he’s a private partner. I’m sure he told me all of this last night while I was going gaga over his looks.

“That sounds accurate. You’ve always got your head in the clouds,” Nika retorts taking a bite.

You both devoured the stack of pancakes quickly, and Nika offered to clean because there was no reason you should have to play Cinderella.

So, you were dressed and ready for your date an hour early. When he arrived, you were surprised to see how effortlessly he leaned against his car when you looked out the window, you nearly had an attack.

“If he dresses that well, he is definitely not a student,” you muttered under your breath.

Rafael rang the doorbell, and you opened it quickly before Nika could try and talk to him. Now was not the time. He took your hand in his as he led you to his car. She watched from her bedroom window anyway.

Hi Y/N, you look great. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m excited to see this surprise.”

He kissed your cheek and opened the door for you. Then he climbed into the driver’s side.

The drive was long, but soothing. Both of you enjoyed bonding over the music on the stereo. You hummed along sometimes despite your throat feeling like it was stuffed with cotton balls. Whenever he looked your way or took your hand to squeeze, you could only smile and nod. You distracted yourself with your surroundings outside the car window.

The awkward silence made the drive seem long even though it would be the only low point of the night.

He finally arrived at the venue and left the valet park. You were sad to get out because it was really comfortable.

You heard some really good hip hop music coming from inside the venue, and even in your heels you were itching to dance. But you decided not to embarrass yourself in front of this man you’ve only just met.

Walking in the double doors, you were impressed with the bright, unique decorations and displays that lit the room. A gust of cool air welcomed you in. “Hey Rafael, can you tell me what the event is for, now?” you asked with a wry smile.

He looks at you briefly, smiling before grabbing the table cards. He handed one card to you embossed in black ink with your name. “We are going to watch a gala for music education, and then I have arranged a private dinner for us. If you hear something you like, let me know,” he smiled at you.

You ignored his last comment and walked to your table. Rafael greeted a friend who stopped him halfway, and that was your first of many introductions for the night. He was a tall man with curly hair and a suit that fit him nicely.

“Y/N this is my favorite person to work with, Daveed. Daveed, this is Y/N, my date.” He took your hand and kissed it. You smiled, lost in the moment.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. It’s not often that my friend here plans such amazing dates. I hope that you have fun.”

“Thank you!” you say and smile in response.

Rafa scowled playfully, “don’t you have an opening act to do, man?”

 A bell sounded and everyone scrambled for their seats. The lights dimmed, then brightened slowly to reveal a well lit stage, tangled with wires and set up with a band.

Daveed and some other people did an opening act, and then the young children performed. You were amazed by the violinists and the jazz dancers. There were so many wonderful performances and costumes that you thought you would cry. You were like these kids once, bright-eyed and perfectly every note perfectly to any audience who would only recognize you by the smile on your face.

Some of Daveed and Rafa’s friends you discovered were also singers and they had such amazing solos. You suddenly wished you were at home in front of your mirror, or in the bakery kitchen filling donuts.

After the performances, guests bid to support one year’s free tuition at any of the arts and music schools amongst other expensive items. The volley and quick exchange of money in the room was really overwhelming, so you decided to get some air. As you walked around the lobby, the state of the art instruments on display caught your eye. On the platform stood a beautiful brand new guitar. You stared at it wistfully, before sauntering back over to your date. Rafael had joined the bidding crowd mesmerized by one art piece that was unlike anything he’d ever seen, and you were awestruck too.

Noting your presence, he leaned in and murmured, “Are you ready to eat?”

Yeah, that sounds good,” you reply, your stomach grumbled and echoed your response.

He led you down the spotlit hallway towards the booth he had reserved for the two of you. It was a small booth, and there was a beautiful centerpiece on the table. You sat in the middle, and he slid in closer to you.

“Y/N, thank you for coming out tonight, you look amazing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I’m sorry if meeting my friends was too weird. They haven’t seen me out with anyone in a while.”

“It’s okay, thank you for inviting me. I’m having a great time. I loved the performances. These kids are so talented,” you gushed.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. What did you think about the dance groups?

“It was definitely a timeless routine. The music choice was excellent. It was my favorite routine of the whole night,” you beamed.

“I’ll be sure to let the teacher know, she’s a very good friend of mine. So tell me, how was your presentation?” His emerald eyes shone with genuine interest.

You avoided his gaze, fidgeting with your bracelet, “I didn’t make it to school, I had to reschedule because my car broke down. I was really looking forward to it.”

“And I was really excited to hear about it,” Rafa replied with a sad smile, “Is there something I could do to help?”

You thought back to him bidding on the expensive tuitions he wanted to sponsor, and then you trained your eyes on the expensive bottle of wine the waiter just set down before you.

“N-no,” you stammer, “I am working on getting it out of the repair shop in a few days! It’s really no problem.”

“I wouldn’t mind helping you out. I really like you, Y/N. You’re hard working and sweet. You also make a mean cup of tea. I drink that flavor every day and I’ve never been able to get it quite right.”

Rafael fell silent and fiddled with the utensils for a moment. Finally he utters, “I was wondering if you’d be my girlfriend, with an added perk.”

Wow! What a pitch! You think to yourself as your eyes widen.

“And that perk would be?”

“I’d like to give you an allowance, baby. For you to spend however you like. He thinks for a moment, “You wouldn’t have to quit your job, but you should know,” Rafa lightly squeezes your hand, “I own the whole chain.”

Your mouth turned to cotton again and your brain tried to keep up. “Like a sugar baby? Wait you own Taste of Honey?”

“Yes, and yes,” he replies slowly, taking a sip of his wine and arching his eyebrow at you over the rim of his goblet.

Something quakes inside of you at the look. It must be your resolve crumbling.

You sit back and think to yourself. He’s really hot, so if you had to do it like most girls, it wouldn’t be a problem. Even if he just wanted a friend, girls like you don’t take free money like that, no matter how tempting. But he’s your boss, even hotter.

You smile at him, your sense of reasoning shot. Sipping some water, you lower your gaze, trying to mask your surprise. “That sounds interesting. And just about the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s doing things to me,” you say carefully, “You do things to me. So, yes. I’ll be your girlfriend, Rafa.”

The soft way you say his name makes his heart soar. He’s relieved he made a good move inviting you out tonight. You’re glad that you decided to say yes. It’s been a while since you allowed yourself to be out with someone.

As you eat, it’s quiet again. Digging into the amazing cuisine and the drinks, you were getting more relaxed. The prospect of not having to worry about your finances seemed amazing. Your job could just be pocket change, and you would not have to burden your family. Maybe you could quit and have more time to study. But you liked making beverages for the little old ladies and gorgeous men who frequented the cafe. It’s the best job you’ve had since you were a teenager. It’s also what led you here. Whatever you decided, you promised yourself to always be self-sufficient.

When you clear your plate, you smile and mirror Rafa’s actions over the rim of your glass, “As for your offer to be my sugar daddy, I’m going to need a couple of days to think it over.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart,” He looked excited that you were even considering it. But oh, I wish there was another word, gosh, I’m not that much older than you,” he rolled his eyes.

You laughed, “maybe we’ll find something else.”

You and Rafa continued to eat, and laughed at everything and nothing. Then he walked you back through the lobby where he said good night to his friends, and you took a good last look at the instruments on display now marked with price tags. Rafa led you through the garden towards the valet parking.

“Aww, the night is over so soon? “I had a really nice night. It was a pretty impressive first date, as those go.”

“Yeah? Thanks. I figured it wouldn’t be gentlemanly to keep you out all night. I know that your roommate will be waiting up,” Rafa smiled knowingly.

“It’s still early. What if I said, I could tell her tomorrow?”

He grinned, and offered his hand to you. You took his hand, and you walked slowly towards the line of cars. His vintage vehicle lit up as it approached the curb. The valet stepped out, opened the passenger side door, and Rafa assumed his position in the drivers seat smoothly. You settled into your seat, ready to see what the rest of the night would hold.

“Let’s go then.”

[catsnuggler]

What didn't help my whole subconsciously-missionary-minded, silent-echoes-of-Mormonism socialism illusion, which made me think it would be selfish and wrong to demand my own liberation, was the misapplication of standpoint epistemology - put simply, when "identity politics" goes bad.

Putting the rest under a cut, because this is a long post.

While it's crude and ultimately incorrect to only say, for example, "Listen to Black voices", without emphasizing the critical thinking skills and empathy necessary to listen to Cornel West, and dismiss Candace Owens for the right-wing corporate hack that she is, what is for certain is that someone like me, a 100% white American settler of Mormon pioneer stock (on one side of my family, anyway), and with no formal education on the subject matter, doesn't have authority to speak on the experience of Black people in America. I have no argument against that, because it's true.

Continuing further, just because, in spite of the fact neither racism nor colonialism oppresses me, capitalism still does, this doesn't mean I have as much authority to speak on it as a Black member of the working class does, as anti-Black racism and capitalism compound on and depend on each other, making the lives of Black working class people more difficult than the lives of white working class people. Doesn't mean I can't speak on capitalism, just means I'm not the leading voice.

That being said - I'm going to talk as if I'm still a believing Mormon, let alone Christian, in this and the next paragraph, to better explain the subconscious workings of my mind, due to their brainwashing - the difference in our positions can be wrongly perceived, especially by someone raised in the illusory colonial missionary mindset, similar to the position of those with "the gospel" and those "of the world", where those with "the truth" have more, but are, like all, oppressed by "sin", yet at least believe themselves to have the knowledge and wherewithal to resist, while those "worldly" people aren't blessed with the wealth of God's Word, nor the solidarity of the church, and are thus further deprived of the perfection God desires for his children than those of His Flock already are, and must be ministered to, brought into the Fold, and Saved from On High.

Yet there must ever be a humility to such actions, there must ever be self-denial, for all are imperfect, even those in the church, as, just as Christ shed His blood, and allowed His flesh to be pierced, even to His death, in limitless sacrifice for the sins of all of the Children of Men, that they may be redeemed, so have countless socialist, communist, and anarchist revolutionaries died for the cause, and yet all who live, who do not seclude themselves from the world and its markets, facilitate the continued exploitation and robbery of each other by the capitalist class. All are imperfect, and all would deserve bondage and bloodshed, were it not for the bleeding hearts of the martyrs.

So, you see, even someone who consciously attempts to reject Christianity can still fall victim to its logic, even after abandoning the official doctrine of it, if proper safeguards against the general thought processes of it are not taken. Returning to the original point I've tried to raise, I've fallen for a long time to a Christian-esque stance of personal martyrdom for the sake of "saving others" to the point I believed pursuing my own liberation would be selfish.

I'm mentally ill and neurodivergent to the point that getting myself to even get into the habit of seeking jobs is difficult, much more so landing myself an interview; and getting an offer of employment? Only happened once, at the end of my first interview. As you predicted, the job sucked, they were desperate to hire me because it sucks, and it wasn't 3 months before I quit. I quit in late September of 2018. It's been almost 3 years of me not having a job.

I got my driver's license in mid 2019, but got into a minor parking accident that only broke a headlight on the car I drove, and didn't damage the other car, in September of that year. It was over a year before I drove again, because of the depth of my depression and anxiety over one accident, which cost about $150. Since January of this year, I've driven somewhat regularly, and have some measure of confidence, but am still anxious every time I'm behind the wheel. I could drive to and from a job, if needed, but it would be a while before that would be comfortable.

I still live with my dad, at the age of 23, and barely have any friends where I live anymore; those local friends I still have, I haven't seen face-to-face for a long time. My dad... my dad could die any day, and I would be royally fucked. Something happened earlier this month, and he wasn't healthy before, but this was really serious. He amazingly got away with few symptoms, and can make a full recovery with the right effort, except... it could still happen again, it would just be less likely. If it does, he could die. Again, I would be royally fucked. I don't know how much his treatment cost, but I know it must be a pretty penny. There's only so long I can continue like this.

Due to my dependence and general impotent state, I can't do a goddamn thing for what I believe in right now. I have to fight self-hatred with the argument that if I die, I'll have died useless and unhelpful, when I could potentially have kept living til I got my act together and finally done something helpful before passing.

I have a college degree. Not a "real" degree, in the sense of it mattering, but I have an Associate degree, DTA. No major; I never could figure out what I wanted to do. It would have been a close call between anything in political science, which would have led toward a government job, which would be unacceptable as an anarchist, or perhaps a professorial job, teaching would-be politicians and bureaucrats, hardly educating anyone of revolutionary intent; or something in chemistry, perhaps biochemistry, leading to some kind of colonial agrichem shit, or making expensive medicines nobody would be able to afford for private entities' profits, possibly having research appropriated by Uncle Sam for weapons purposes - I don't know, but none of that was appealing. I graduated community college with Honors, as a member of the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society. I could have had promise as some or other kind of technocrat or bureaucrat - but I wouldn't be able to live with myself. It seems the less one is exploited, the more they exploit others. I don't know what job I can take that would exploit me enough that I wouldn't hurt others so much, while leaving me alone enough that I wouldn't kill myself, which... which has been a temptation, at times. Not too strong, but it is fucking there. I have promise; at short-term memorization and obedience, at least, like a mongrel dog who can read; but no conviction, no confidence, and a surplus of fear.

There are more woes I can recollect, I can continue this pity party in a book, but enough of that. Suffice it to say, all this time, I should have wanted my own liberation. Colonized people (in an American context, Turtle Island Indigenous and Black) have it worse, LGBT* people have it worse, women have it worse, physically disabled people have it worse, people with greater mental disabilities than my own have it worse, and I can't lead any of their struggles. But I do have the right to demand my own liberation, and I shouldn't convince myself otherwise.

*I don't oppose the use of the other word, except people of my demographic have abused that word so goddamn much, I don't want to type it, myself, let alone say it. It's always tainted when it comes from those who aren't of that community. Please don't think I'm either a radfem or a libfem just because I didn't use that word. I support people identifying with that label in using it.

This post became increasingly personal toward the end. However, I hope my flawed perspective, perhaps unique (read: unrelatable) in some aspects, perhaps explaining, at least in part, some of the fucked-up mental hurdles of white socialist "allies" that we need to get our asses over yesterday, might help - whatever I might have illuminated, and whatever I surely missed. I can understand why someone might want to share and add, share and criticize, or leave this alone with a like, nothing at all, or an unfollow.

Not that I can prevent this from being shared in any way, except by not posting in the first place, but I'm okay with it being shared by other socialists, for whatever it's worth... although I understand the more traction it gets, the more likely I'll get anon hate about being full of myself (deserved, to an extent at least), for being some dumb socialist cuck (not exactly wrong, but rude, and likely from a Nazi, so fuck you), or perhaps from non-Mormon Christians accusing me, someone they'd call a Mormon (which is arguably almost a new ethnicity (not race though) as much as it is a religion) of daring to throw the Christian god and Christianity, in general, under the bus, accusing me of being in league with the devil. So be it.

If you're not a reactionary, nor a liberal, nor somewhere in-between, and you want to share this for some reason or another, you may do so.

[nightqueendany]

Set Aside Your Shipping Goggles For Fucking Once, Please.

Had an ask about this and it really got me thinking.

Women, especially women who hate Dany’s character and ship Jonsa, please read -

Look at the outline of this story for a moment (and leaks, if they are true), and keep in mind the author is a MAN and the people who run/write the show are all MEN.

We have a woman who has been exiled, orphaned, and abused. She grew up with nothing, selling family heirlooms in order to have money for food and even then, it often wasn’t enough and she would go hungry.

When we meet her, she’s sold to a war lord from a foreign culture and repeatedly raped to the point where she contemplates suicide. Throughout her story she is beaten and betrayed. She has risked her life numerous times. She has lost those she’s loved. And she has also taken it upon herself to help those who no one has ever dared help before. She’s young, she’s inexperienced, she’s not perfect. But she is trying. She gives herself this mission and risks everything to see it through, even prolonging her return to her homeland to make it happen.

But the story begins to plague her with typical sexist tropes - framing her choices as “bad” when with other characters, it’s not so morally gray. She’s vilified for the exact same actions other characters, male characters, are celebrated for or just ignored and written off.

And then to have her story finally crumble completely, have this female character who has suffered so much and tired so much, just descend into madness so that a male hero can kill her and save people from her...a male hero who, for the most part, has no idea what she suffered - he was formally educated and formally trained, always had plenty of food to eat and a constant, warm place to sleep, family who loved and supported him -

Honestly, how can any woman look at this and NOT take issue with it?

Fucking ships don’t matter. Hello! None of the leaks say Jonsa either! It’s not about the goddamn ships.

But seriously, how can anyone, anyone with a vagina especially, root for this ending? Root for this kind of writing?

If the books and show made Dany suffer, only to build her up and build up her power, just to tear her back down again and make her “mad” so that the Male Hero has an excuse to kill her and continue to be “The Hero”...what kind of message does that send to women?

Women shouldn’t have power? Women who wish to take power for themselves will always inevitably go mad? Women aren’t responsible with power?

It’s bullshit.

And for those saying, “Well, Cersei had everything taken from her, why aren’t you complaining about what they did to Cersei and calling that sexist?”

It’s not the same thing at all!

Was Cersei raped and abused by Robert? Yes. Did she lose family and friends? Yes.

However, Cersei has always been unapologetic about her sins. She continued fucking Jaime, birthed his children, put those children and her family at risk for doing so, continued to try to stay queen at any cost, had no plans so far as helping others and only doing what would help herself...

Cersei is the opposite of Dany. Yes, the both want power. But Dany has altruistic aspirations. Cersei doesn’t. Cersei just wants to avoid answering for the crimes she has committed, that’s why she wants power. That’s the difference.

So in the end, to switch their stories and deaths - to give Cersei a “sympathetic” death and to make Dany a villian...just utterly undoes everything set up for both their characters thus far.

Could a sympathetic Cersei death be done right? Sure. I still love her character. In fact, I’d say giving her a sympathetic death is necessary for all she’s suffered. But giving Dany a cowardice villain death? What?

Seriously, some Jonsa has to be able to take a step back from the story and say - admit rather - that Dany becoming a villain is fucked up storytelling.

Regardless of the things she’s done that you take issue with, her story as a whole - an abused woman who slowly gains power and expresses a wish to help others only to go mad in the end and have a MAN kill her - it’s fucked up.

Can’t you all see that?