#but also by the time she died the only Apple family relatives that visited her tended to be her own kids and grandkids

[ace-s-fave-tv-shows]

Twinkle Eyed Pony G4 Redesigns

Whenever I see a G4 redesign that makes one of the Mane 6 a twinkle eyed pony I'm not gonna lie, I am disappointed that they always pick Rarity by default because her whole thing is gemstones.

I, on the other hand, think that if any of the Mane 6 should be a Twinkle eyed pony it should be Pinkie Pie, and that the Pie family being Twinkle eyed ponies, should be their connection to the Apple family.

Let me explain.

Okay, so the Twinkle Eyed Pony origin story in G1, as far as I know (they could have another origin, this is just the only one I know of) is that in a comic, G1 Applejack is captured by an evil jewel wizard (or sorcerer? It's an evil magic man), and forced into slavery working in a magical gem mine with a bunch of other ponies who've been in there far longer than her.

The pony slaves who've been trapped in the caves for so long, tell Applejack to escape before she becomes like them. Who've been trapped underground, toiling away in the dark mine for so long, that their eye sight has deteriorated to the point of blindness. Or at least to the point that their eyes are too sensitive for them to go out during the daylight.

So after hearing this Applejack attacks the Jewel wizard (presumably killing him, like it says he fell to The End of the Earth), and smashes his jewel throne, freeing the enslaved ponies. She then starts to lead them out of the cave, telling them to follow her and that she'll guide them, because of their extremely poor eyesight.

It's only when they reach daylight, that Applejack and the twinkle eyed ponies learn that their eyes were healed when Applejack smashed the throne made of magic jewels. Returning sight to the enslaved ponies, but also causing their gemstone eyes to develop.

[Also, in this AU Twinkle Eyes are a genetic thing, as in they're passed down to their descendants. Which is not the case in G1 canon, multiple G1 Twinkle Eyed Ponies have babies, and none of them inherit the Twinkle Eyes.

Meaning that the Twinkle Eyes are more like magical scarring as a result of their eyes being healed by gemstone magic, rather than them being a unique pony subspecies within the canon of G1.

I know they're not supposed to be genetic in G1, but this is about a fanon G4 version of Twinkle Eyed Ponies, that I'm making up, in order to justify Pinkie having Twinkle Eyes. Okay.]

So I'd think it'd be interesting if Applejack's ancestor (like hundreds of years ago, like Granny Smith's grandmother or great-grandmother or something) was the savior of the Twinkle Eyed Ponies, who were Pinkie's ancestors.

So the Pie and Apple Families aren't related by blood in this AU, but instead an old debt of gratitude for an ancestor of theirs freeing their ancestors from slavery.

This is basically a fanfic outline from here on, there's no dialog or actual scenes, just a bunch of ideas thrown out there:

The Story of Applejam

Now you might ask why the Twinkle Eyed Pie family would become rock farmers after being enslaved and forced to mine for magic gemstones by an evil wizard.

Because mining and working with rocks was all they knew how to do, and it was what most of them were comfortable doing. Heck working with rocks or gemstones was a lot of their special talents.

I'm going to say that the vast majority of the enslaved ponies who become Twinkle Eyed Ponies, were taken as fillies & colts. Either already orphaned, or taken from their parents so young and moved so far away that there was no hope finding them again after they were freed.

While not all of them got their cutie marks while trapped in the mines, some in fact got theirs extremely late only after being freed, there were still those that did. [Which caused issues and trauma to develop around their cutie mark and special talent in general which lasted long after being freed for a lot of them.]

Anyways, the damage to their sight was caused by spending years, literally most of their lives for some of them, trapped in those under ground cave systems away from sunlight.

Applejam (Applejack's ancestor who's taking the place of G1 Applejack in this version of the story) is snatched up by the Jewel Wizard, while traveling home across Equestria from an Apple Family Reunion.

The Jewel Wizard felt like he needed more workers in his mine. And Applejam, in spite of being quiet a bit older than those he'd usually take already being nearly fully grown mare, was an ideal candidate.

She was physically strong and healthy, as evidenced by her seemingly trekking across the country on her own with no other pony to switch out hauling the wagon with. Most of his workers were rather weak and sickly, with the quality of their work degrading over time.

Applejam is taken suddenly in the night, waking up in a dimly lit cavern, surrounded by other young ponies. Only a few could be considered young adults, most were teens, and a few were even fillies or colts not even old enough to develop their cutie mark yet.

They weren't doing too good.

The hair of their manes and tails haphazardly chopped short, but hanging limp and dirty all the same. Coats similarly dull, full of dust from the crushed and shattered rocks mined away.

They were thinner than they should be. Not emaciated. Apparently the one holding them captive fed them enough to keep them capable of working, but not much more than that.

The worst thing though, in Applejam's opinion, were those poor ponies' eyes. Cloudy and clearly irritated. The older ponies seemingly unable to see much at all, considering how their eyes never focused, and mainly drifted around. The younger ponies however, had retained some sight. Their eyes able to focus on things, but even then they were all squinting.

Many of the ponies had been trapped down in the mines for so long that they'd forgotten what the sky had looked like, and the warm light of the sun was but a distant memory.

What allows the Wizard to command and keep all of these other ponies under his control, is a throne entirely made of magic gemstones. By tethering the slave's magic to the gemstone throne, and keeping that tether short, he can insure no pony can leave the cave.

This also allows for the Jewel Wizard to use the throne as a kind of magical battery, using the enslaved ponies' magic as his own.

Applejam spends a few days trapped with the gem miner ponies, coming up with a plan for escape. She's sure that she can free all these ponies, she just needs the right opportunity to come, so she can finally take out the guy who kidnapped them all.

Applejam is successful in her defeat of the Jewel Wizard, with the help of a few of the gem miners to distract him, she managed to knock him down into a deep mine shaft (killing the wizard in the process). While also destroying the magic jewel throne in the process, as it was also knocked down the mine shaft.

Applejam and the other now freed ponies travel back to the surface, and are so happy to discover that their blindness had been healed as a result of the destruction of the gemstone throne.

The shattering of the gemstone throne had broken the tether spell, and returned the portion of the enslaved ponies' magic (and life force, because canonically their magic is also part of their life force) that had been stolen. Though that their magic sat contained and bound to the gemstones for so long, is what lead to the interesting side effects of the now freed slaves.

Twinkle Eyed Ponies, as they'd come to be called, would come to be a protected population of Equestria, after gaining their freedom.

Once herself and all the other ponies were now back above ground, Applejam came to the conclusion that she couldn't help these ponies on her own no matter how much she wants to. The only pony who could help them settle into new lives of freedom after spending most of their lives imprisoned, would be the ruler of Equestria herself, Princess Celestia.

So after locating her wagon, still left abandoned at the roadside from where she'd been taken in her sleep, she guided the Twinkle Eyed Ponies to a place she'd hardly ever been. Canterlot.

Applejam had a group of ponies who'd been imprisoned for half their lives or longer, who needed things like medical attention, and schooling that had been cut short, and families who they'd been separated from. And nothing was going to stop her from getting them to where they needed to be and seeing who they needed to see to get help.

Even if that pony happened to be the ruler of the country and raiser the of sun herself.

Celestia would indeed see to the needs of the Twinkle Eyed Ponies, and would send out an investigative team to see to it that no remnants of the gemstone throne remained, to see to it that there would be no copycats. Along with searching for the origin of the Jewel Wizard, and where he'd taken so man young fillies and colts from without anyone noticing.

Applejam would be awarded with a medal of honor for her heroism in freeing the Twinkle Eyed Ponies and defeating the Jewel Wizard against all odds.

The Twinkle Eyed Ponies would eventually, after counseling and rehabilitation to ensure they'd be able to function in pony society as free ponies, found the town of Rockville.

Home of the Pie family from that point on, and eventual birthplace of Pinkie Pie herself. Who'd funnily enough move to Ponyville, a town founded by the Apple family, and become best friends with a mare named Applejack.

As for Applejam? Well, she would stop by the city of Rockville during her long trek across Equestria, on her way home from Apple Family reunions, for many years after meeting and befriending the Twinkle Eyed Ponies. They weren't blood, but they were family after all.

Only stopping her yearly visits, when she had grown too old to make the journey. Though she'd eventually insist on moving there full time in her twilight years, and being buried there. Much to her family's confusion.

Why, under Celestia's bright sky, would Applejam want to live in that tiny little town, full of odd ponyfolk, without nary an apple orchard to be found?

Well, who's to say. There's only one apple tree too be found in Rockville.

A giant behemoth of a thing by the time Pinkie is born, 40 meters tall, and a 2 meter diameter for the trunk. The center piece of the community garden of Rockville. Originally planted by Applejam nearly 300 years prior, but lovingly tended to by the citizens long after the original planter had passed.

For much like a plant, no friendship can succeed, with out a bit of hard work, and the care of someone who wants to see you flourish.

...

IDK, I've just had a lot of feelings after learning the backstory of the Twinkle Eyed Ponies of G1 and how Applejack killed an evil wizard and freed them all from slavery and blindness.

Anyways, if you like Twinkle Eyed Rarity because gemstones are her thing, okay.

I'm a Twinkle Eyed Pinkie kind of person, because the origin story of the Twinkle Eyed Ponies and it's relation to G1 Applejack, just meshes really well in my brain with Pinkie Pie's backstory of growing up on a rock farm that made her miserable, along with the possibility of the Apple and Pie families being connected.

It's just really satisfying to me that all of these pieces fit so well together.

When I see a Twinkle Eyed Rarity I don't like connecting it to the G1 idea of Twinkle Eyed Ponies, the way I do Twinkle Eyed Pinkie.

I like the idea of Rarity getting Twinkle Eyes not genetically, but as a result of unknowingly messing around with magic gemstones not long after getting her cutie mark.

Rarity likes digging and hunting for gemstones too much for me to want to have that in anyway connected to something as traumatic as slavery. Even if it's generations back in her family tree.

When I think about it too long it makes me think of that one video of the black guy explaining that really racist field trip he was taken on in elementary school, where he and his classmates were taken to a cotton farm, and made to pick cotton they didn't even get to keep. Like literally taken to a cotton farm to do unpaid child labor.

And I know it's not actually like that, but it's always where my mind goes first when it's said on the redesign that Rarity was born with Twinkle Eyes, meaning it was an inherited trait.

Also I'll definitly attempt drawing my version of Twinkle Eyed Pinkie (and maybe some of the other Pies like Maud) at some point, but I just can't get the eyes to look right to me, so that'll be later.

[twilightdruig]

help?

pairing : george weasley x fem!reader

summary : “hi i’m your neighbor and while i know we’ve never spoken but you’re a single parent of two and my sister recently died leaving me to raise her infant and i have no idea what i’m doing, help?” au

warnings : swearing , mentions of character deaths , fluff , au where george lives alone with his two children in a cottage near the burrow , au where fred and cedric live.

words : 2.6k

a/n : this is my first fic so it’s probably gonna be shit (as you can probably tell i’m not good with titles either) but yeah hope you enjoy :> and i might do a little part 2 on this soon

holly l/n was loved by multiple. a sweet hufflepuff student who was favored by all the teachers and students. her sister, y/n was a scary and intimidating gryffindor who hung out in the library.

ever since the battle of hogwarts death eaters have been imprisoned in azkaban. but, that didn’t mean all harm was gone.

now here y/n l/n was, standing in the heat of the summer, her nephew connor l/n mourning the death of a family member.

the service was beautiful. a few hogwarts students came including luna lovegood and neville longbottom and professor sprout and professor flitwick decided to pay their respects. headmistress mcgonagall sent her condolences through a letter as well.

conner wasn’t old enough to go to hogwarts yet. there was no one else for holly to leave connor with. her husband, ronan died during the war, all connor’s grandparents died and the only appointed godparents were holly’s best friend cedric diggory and her sister y/n.

cedric diggory was now teaching first year flying at hogwarts and is married to cho chang.

y/n was currently doing nothing with her life. she wanted to live alone in a cottage, reading, stitching, picking apples and getting drunk on fruity cocktails. but now? she had to take care of her sister’s spoiled son.

y/n hated children more than she hated the people in her own hogwarts house. more so, she didn’t know how to take care of them.

she had to enroll her nephew in hogwarts, teach him basic life skills and other stuff like that. there goes her life goal on being that cool stoner aunt that hates love and children.

—

“shit, connor!” y/n exclaimed as her 3 year old nephew accidentally ate a ton tongue toffee made by the joke shop in diagon alley owned by the weasleys.

“sorry aunty y/n”

she was never close to the weasleys. all of them, stereotypical gryffindors, loud and chaotic and always the main characters.

the only thing she knew about them is that one of the twins live next to her. y/n didn’t know how to shrink his tongue and thought it was quite the convenience that he lives next door. he was a single dad with two daughters, maybe he could help her control her nephew and technically her adopted son, now.

she sighed. “put on your coat, we’re visiting our neighbors, ok con?” the little boy nodded in response

—

went the small cottage came into view, there were two little girls picking flowers on the front yard and a tall red-headed man on the porch watching them.

“hey! weasley!” she yelled with a small smile as she approached the small gate.

“l/n? what are you doing here?” george asked

y/n gestured to her nephew who was holding his now 3 foot long tongue. “he accidentally ate one of your products and i’m not entirely sure how to fix it”

“right, right” he laughed “come on, connor right? i’ll reverse that”

y/n felt a tug at her oversized cardigan. she looked down to see two identical ginger twins.

“hi there!” one smiled.

“hello!” y/n tried to sound as nice as possible. looking back at her teenage years she remembered laughing at kids who fell of their brooms their brooms when she’d watch first year flying. she remembered laughing at seamus finnigan when something blew up in his face. or when she’d laugh at any kid accidentally getting hurt.

“these are for you! they’re pretty just like you” the other twin exclaimed.

“i’m charlotte and she’s billie” charlotte giggled.

“how do u know our daddy?” billie asked

“oh! um, we went to school together and i live just next door” y/n replied

“do you know our uncle freddie?”

“i know all your uncles and your aunt ginny, aunt hermione and uncle harry. they were all famous when we were in school”

“wow!” they both exclaimed

george and connor came back out. “look aunty y/n! my tongue’s normal again!”

“aunty?” george questioned. “holly. she died quite recently.”

“oh! i’m so sorry. i heard about her. yeah. i believe mum sent some flowers for the service”

“yeah we received them”

“i’ll see you around?” george inquired

“yeah, yeah. and i might need some parenting advice? you knew how i was back at hogwarts”

“i am flattered, dear l/n”

“oh hush. and they get along.” she pointed to the three children running around.

“they do. and yes, i would love to help you tame that little rascal” george laughed.

“thank you, george. really.”

“i’m just next door, yeah?”

“yeah” y/n smiled “come on, connor. we’re going home. but we’ll definitely be seeing these lovely ladies soon.”

“bye pretty lady!” y/n heard two young voices call after her

“daddy, who was she?”

“is she gonna be our new mommy?”

—

george and y/n had been hanging out for the past weeks. he had given her advice on taking care of connor and how to deal with children. they also spent time talking about family and their time back at hogwarts. she was told about the attack of death eaters at one of his brothers’ wedding and how his daughters were named after his brothers bill and charlie.

a knock at y/n’s door interrupted her reading.

“oi, l/n!” she heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door.

“weasley” she muttered.

connor recognized george’s voice and the twins’ giggles, he decided he would take matters into his own little hands. connor knew how stubborn his aunt was at the young age of seven.

“hi billie! hi charlotte! hi uncle george!” the little boy squealed.

“hey there, con!” george ruffled his hair while billie and charlotte ran over to y/n.

connor and the twins were two years apart. connor was going to hogwarts the next year. no doubt would he be trouble to professor mcgonagall but everyone knew they were always her favorites.

“aunty y/n! uncle george brought cookies!” connor yelled excitedly. y/n was never the type to bake or cook. she did try to but it always ended in almost burning the house down. she usually fed connor fruits or store bought food.

“you didn’t have to” y/n responded while taking the plastic box.

“oh yes i did” he teased “i heard you’ve been starving this poor little fellow”

“daddy didn’t bake those cookies” charlotte stated “grandma did” billie continued

“oh” she smirked at george then turned to the twins “tell your grandma i say thanks!”

“uncle george! i wanna show you something outside! the twins can come too!”

“connor, what are you gonna show them?” y/n grumbled.

“your paintings! they’re amazing” her nephew jumped.

“paintings, eh?” george smiled “okay, let’s go, champ. see those paintings of your aunt.” the two scurried outside, two redheaded girls following after.

y/n groaned and fell back into the couch, finishing her book.

—

it’s been a few days since george and the twins came with cooking to y/n and connor’s cottage. she wanted to throw connor a little surprise birthday party.

connor has loved the twins and george so much, he thinks of them as blood relatives. y/n decided to call up cedric and cho to look after connor while she’d do some errands.

the two arrived exactly on time as y/n was preparing to go out. she had on a simple cardigan and loose denim pants.

“ced! cho! hi, how are you guys?” y/n greeted as she saw her old friends apparate into the cottage.

“hi y/n!” cho greeted “hey nerd” cedric snickered.

she sent cedric a small glare before connor jumped at the two.

“uncle ceddy! aunty cho! you’re here” he shouted.

“yeah buddy! your aunt’s gonna run some errands and visit your uncle georgie?” cedric winked at y/n. she had been owling cedric about george and how he’s been helping her with connor.

“are you going out with uncle george?” connor asked, eyes twinkling.

“i don’t know, actually. i might check him out next door.”

“george weasley?” cho teased.

“yes, cho,” y/n rolled her eyes “but on that note, i have to go”

“bye, connor! behave okay?” she crouched down and squished his cheeks.

“bye, ced! cho!” her voice faded when she dashed out the door.

—

y/n passed george’s cottage to see if he actually might want to come with her and do errands.

she was standing outside the small gate, hesitating. ‘maybe he was busy’ ‘he wouldn’t want to do errands with me’ ‘maybe he would if i told him it was for connor’s birthday’ she thought. y/n didn’t know why she was overthinking her choices. the first time she was standing right outside the gate she bursted in and demanded george to fix whatever happened to her nephew. now, she was nervous. her palms were sweaty and clammy.

she pushed herself in and walked to the front porch. she knocked a few times and was met with a head of messy brown hair.

“hermione?!” she squealed

“y/n!” hermione jumped to hug her old friend.

there were overlapping voices in the background and when they pulled away she was met with multiple mops of ginger hair, a head of blonde hair and another with black hair behind hermione.

“l/n?” ginny weasley asked, quite shocked what she would be doing outside george’s door.

“oh! did i interrupt something? i am so sorry!” she said feeling a bit nervous.

“oh! you must be the dearest y/n george keeps talking about!” an old woman she thought was mrs. weasley approached her from behind her children.

“hi there!” y/n said feeling a little embarrassed she might’ve barged in on a family reunion.

“ah! l/n? i have heard of your family! muggle-borns right?” arthur weasley joined his wife.

“uh, yeah!” she pursed her lips “i am so so sorry i interrupted! i should go. tell george i’ll swing by next time”

“oh it’s absolutely alright, dear” molly reassured her.

“george! there’s a really pretty girl! get your arse out here!” fred yelled to george who was probably inside the house.

“is she here?” charlotte and billie ran to the door.

“hi girls! tell you dad i was here yeah? say i’ll come by next time” most of the weasleys came back in. she took it as her time to go on with her day.

“oi! y/n! wait up” the voice she recognized as george’s called after her.

“george, hey”

“where’r you off to?” george pointed to the small bag that was swung over her shoulder.

“errands. connor’s birthday is coming up so i thought i’d prepare something for him. first birthday without his mum, you know”

“his birthday’s coming up?” george looked as excited as a child on christmas morning.

“yeah. why?” she smiled

“you’re talking to one of the best party planners there is. you also did talk to another one of them… i think”

“fred?”

“oh yeah”

“i wanted to ask if you wanted to come but seeing as to your family is in your house… i’m gonna take a wild guess and say you aren’t available right now” she giggled.

“maybe if you went another day” he said sympathetically. george really wanted to go and prepare connor’s party with her. he treated him like his own and boy did he remind him of how fun it was to be a kid. he loved his aunt so much it was adorable.

“george. seriously, it’s okay. spend time with your family” she laughed.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll see you when you get back” he waved.

—

connor’s small birthday gathering was in full swing. y/n became acquainted with george’s siblings. bill, charlie, percy (whom she was actually friends with back in hogwarts), fred, ron and ginny. hermione was a very good friend of hers and so was harry. she recognized fleur from that day in the cottage as beauxbatons triwizard champion.

connor had quite a bunch of guests for his birthday. cedric, cho, luna, neville, fred, percy, ron, harry, hermione, bill and fleur and their little victorie. of course, billie and charlotte helped george and y/n fix up the party. mr. and mrs. weasley sent a small cake for connor when they heard about y/n not knowing asingle thing about cooking.

fred offered to take care of the twins and connor while george and y/n ran off somewhere. the two found themselves near a small creek. y/n explained how the cottage was where she’d go off exploring and the only person who knew was holly. she was overjoyed when her sister got the cottage she used as a hideaway.

george was surprised when there were lights and blankets and everything. the soft sounds of running water was calming.

the two were pretty intoxicated when they sat down; stumbled onto the picnic blanket. y/n was sober enough to not spill her deepest darkest secrets. george on the other hand…

“have i ever told you how pretty you are?” george mumbled next to her. y/n only snickered and blushed.

“um, can i hold your hand?” he continued, taking a look at the girl next to him.

“sure” she winked.

“you know” he started again “i actually fancied you a bit back in school”

“yeah?” she rolled over to her side “i wonder… what did you like about me?”

“i don’t even know. my heart just felt so full with you. still does, right now, holding your hand, under the stars by a stream.” he had this glint in his eye when he looks at her.

“hey,” she brushed some hair out of his face “these past few months have been great. and you’re a huge help with connor. you know i’ll always be there for you, right?”

“yeah darling,” he yawned “yeah”

“wait, george!” she sat up “no. don’t fall asleep!”

“fuck” she groaned before falling back down on the blanket.

“i think i love you” she whispered.

—

morning rolled around and they were still lying somewhere in the forest behind the cottage. some childish chatter and laughs were heard from where they were still sleeping soundly.

until, a red ant bit y/n and george’s intertwined hands. “ah shit!” y/n woke up from the bite. her yell also woke up the sleeping man next to her “what?! what happened?” he jumped.

“oh. did i wake you up?” she asked.

“no. it’s honestly no worries” he said “but i do have a killer headache”

“an ant bit me” she muttered, wanting to scratch it.

“hey, no don’t scratch! i’ve had a lot if experience with insect bites” he explained “want me to kiss it better?” he teased.

“oh, ha-ha” she rolled her eyes but blushed.

“we should probably head back” he checked his watch while standing up.

—

“ah! there the lovebirds are!” fred exclaimed.

everyone was cleaning up from last night. there were children running around while chasing balloons and each other.

“yeah,” george started “we, um, fell asleep”

“sure ya did” this time ron teased the two.

“i’m gonna clean up here,” y/n offered “you guys should go home. you know, get some rest”

cedric gasped “y/n l/n! are you kicking us out?” he said in mock offense.

“technically, yeah. i doubt connor got any sleep”

“maybe we should,” fleur said with her accent “victorie was very excited for the party she is very worn out”

george snuck behind y/n “i think i love you too” he muttered under his breath. he wasn’t sure if she heard it. she did.

“i’ll see you later, y/n!” he yelled “come on, princesses, we’re going home. we’ll see connor and y/n later”

connor and the twins hugged while y/n said thank you’s to all the guests.

maybe it wasn’t such a bad decision to ask for help.

[decadentenemyturtle]

Broken heart t'was made of wood

Part 3 - Not here

Words: 2505

The full serie

Bilbo sat next his dining table, cold tea and apple pie forgotten a little further from him, which really was rare of him. Right in front of the hobbit was a small, wooden box. It had played a very beautiful melody, very similar to a lullaby. And for a moment Bilbo had marveled for dwarven engineering and craft. But then he had learned from Thorin, that it was made by (Y/n), as a gift for the dwarven king...

... along side with wooden statues of his family.

Bilbo had, of course, been rather angry when he also learned that Thorin had ordered them to be destroyed. Weeks, maybe even months worth of work, destroyed in few hours by his right hand man and best friend, along side with two best jewelers and crafstmen of Erebor.

"Well, what can one expect from dwarves, who only see beauty in diamond's, gems and stone" Bilbo had sneered, seemingly angry for the king, and for the bald warrior standing a little further from the table. Thorin had stared down to his hands, looking rather quilty, whilst Dwalin didn't look anywhere near the hobbit after that comment, whatever being offended and angry for him about the so called insult or because of the quilt he felt for helping to destroy the statues. Or both.

Bilbo sighed and lifted his eyes from the box to Thorin, who was spacing out, staring the half empty teacup in front of him, but not really seeing it.

"She had a reason to leave, and I do not blame her" Bilbo starts, waking Thorin from his thoughts. His pearsing blue eyes turn to Bilbo, still showing the quilt and sadness in him. Bilbo knew he was sorry for what he had done, and he understood perfectly well that Thorin wanted to apologie and make amends. But there was only one problem. "It just that... I have heard that Gandalf did visit Buckland some few weeks ago, he just never came to visit me. And I also believe that he was alone, like he always is when he comes to our lands, since there were no rumours of young woman travelling with him. And do believe me, if woman - at any age - had travelled with that blasted wizard, word would have travelled trough our lands faster than a wind"

Dwalin sneered and glanced to a dwarrowdam next to him, who in turn galred a hole to the warrior, whilst Thorin was frowning and staring somewhere behind Bilbo. Bilbo looked at them with pity. He felt bad that he had nothing else to offer, and that the married couple seemed to have their own guarrel, seemingly about (Y/n), and he wasn't helping it at all. If anything, Bilbo felt like he was making it only worse, since he had no information about the young woman.

And still Bilbo wondered, how did other's mistake, his loyalty to his king and to his duty, to his job cause such a hatred between them? No, not hatred, they still did love each other.

Bilbo lowered his eyes to the small musicbox. Both of these dwarves loved their king and (Y/n), but where Dwalin was loyal to Thorin and his best friend, Olka was loyal to (Y/n). They might not be best of friend's, not quite yet, but Bilbo could see that in near future Olka would be (Y/n)'s right hand man, or rather woman.

And then he knew that it was that loyalty what was causing all the disagreemend and problems between them. And Bilbo was sure that they would eventually sort it out. Maybe it would even help them, if they had good new from (Y/n). And just then Bilbo had a rather good thought, if one was to ask from him.

"Did you look for her from Rivendell?" Bilbo asked, lifting his eyes from the musicbox to Thorin. Bilbo knew it might be futile to ask it, but, well... You never knew when was talking about dwarves and elves. And the way how Thorin sat a little straighter, more kingly like, how he tried to extend the time before he answered, gave Bilbo the answer he needed. And he gave Thorin a small, tierd yet knowing smile.

"We came straight here. I had no business in Rivendell" Thorin replied, looking Bilbo with emotionless face. The same face he used in council room and pretty much in every situation and conversation he didn't want to be part of and which he wanted to end as quickly as possible, if Bilbo had to guess.

"Expect trying to find yer one" Olka grumbled, glaring the king. And Bilbo smiled a little, trying to hide his grin with his hand maybe a tad too late, for he had been meaning to say the same thing. Thorin and Dwalin looked openly annoyed by the fact that (Y/n) might actually be in Rivendell and not in the Shire, in good hands with their bulglar.

With a small sigh, Bilbo rose and went to collect now cold tea and food from the table, taking it back to the kitchen. All the while he did so, he cursed his adventurous side of the family tree. Those Took's never knew how to live peaceful and normal life, like any respectful hobbit would.

When he returned back to the dining room, Dwalin and Thorin were grumbling something quietly a little further in the room, while Olka was staring out of the window with a little frown. When Bilbo stopped next to her, the dwarrowdam turned to look at him.

"She might be anywhere" she whispered. Bilbo only nodded, turning to look at the two dwarrow a little further away from them.

"There's a change she is in Rivendell. Lord Elrond offered her a place and home from his halls back when we were staying in Rivenell" Bilbo confronts the dam. Dwalin and Thorin stops their quiet talk and turn to look at Bilbo and Olka, and for a while they are all quiet.

"And if she's not in Rivendell?" Thorin finally asks. Dwalin's intence stare almost seemed to drill through Bilbo. Back at the time before the quest he's stare had been intimidating, but now Bilbo could easily brush it off. The dwarves could easily intimitate others if they so wished, unless you knew them well. And were enough stubborn and hot head to not to get worked up and threatened by them. And now that Bilbo could feel himself being unaffected by Dwalin's glare.

"Then she does not wish to be found" Bilbo said, smiling a little sympathetic. "Because in the end, it is her choise what she does with her life, not yours. And you made it pretty clear that you did not have any interest for her" Thorin lowered his head, and swallowed. He knew Bilbo was right, of course he was. Thorin's quest to find his One was almost as trivial as trying to find his father all those years ago, and he had died before they could meet eachother again.

"And since you are going to meet the elves, I believe you are going to need someone who has good relations with them and who can talk to them without offending them" Bilbo said with an ease, moving from the dining room to lobby and from there to his room, muttering to himself. The dwarves look at each other with confusion. Then, Dwalin turned to look at the direction Bilbo had walked, still utterly confused.

"But the wizard is Mahal knows where!" he half shouted so that the halfling could hear him. And as soon as the words had left his lips, Olka sighed, half facepalming and half messaging her temple, while Thorin turned to look at he's best friend. Then Dwalin turned to look at the two and he made silent "oh" sound as he understood what the halfling had meant.

After 15 minutes Bilbo came back to the room after leaving an ragback to the lobby, wearin a travel fit clothes on him. He walked straight to the kitchen, not paying any attention to the dwarves, and after 10 minutes or so, he came back with a small bag full of something and another bag hanging over his arm, empty. Again, Bilbo passed over the dwarves, not looking at them or paying any attention to them, as if he had already forgotten that they were still there. Dwalin and Thorin exchanged looks, while Olka was staring after the halfling with keen interest and a little smile over her lips.

After 10 more minutes or so, Bilbo appreared back in the lobby, now looking at the dwarves, smiling little to himself. He had big bag full of something with him, which he lowered to the floor next to his travelling bag.

"I have a newly wed relatives that I'd like to watch over Bag End while I'm gone, so if you don't mind a little delay, I'll go and fetch them" the hobbit said. Thorin and Dwalin only nodded, a little puzzeled by their little friend's eagerness for travelling. Compared to last time, this was a huge change. But, then again, this time they were only travelling as far as Rivendell and there was no dragon looming at the end of their travel. Olka, instead, was nodding with approval.

"Of course, master Baggins! We can't leave your home without someone watching over it. And not to forget your garden!" she said, still nodding. And Bilbo smiled. She was the first dwarf he liked from the moment they had met. And there were quite many dwarves he had met!

  Draco and Primula Baggins were more than happy to watch over Bilbo's home, and they even promised to throw a small party to few of their friends to epty Bilbo's pantry - for they had claimed that since it was just the two of them at the moment, they simply couldn't eat all their own food and Bilbo's food before atleas half of it would spoil.

Happy for the situation, Bilbo started his new adventure with the dwarves. They had to get him a pony, since the dwarves only had three with them and they all rather travelled alone on a pony, even Bilbo. And this time the ponies hair didn't bother him, he had remembered to take - not one but three! - handkerchief with him! Bilbo still missed Minty sometimes, but his new pony, Rosabell, was as sweet as the late pony. And as beautiful with her dark brown mane and chocolate and white fur. So, Bilbo was more than happy to own her, and he was sure that he would go riding more often when he would return back home from Rivendell.

Their traveles went on well without any incidents until they stopped at familiar, destroyed farm house. Bilbo let out a long sigh after seeing the house and regocnising it. Thorin threw a quick look to the hobbit, before orderin Dwalin and Olka to look some firewood. The two left rather quickly with muttered "Aye", while Thorin and Bilbo stayed behind to mend the ponies. When the two dwarves were far enough, Thorin turned to look at Bilbo with a small, reassuring smile.

"This area is safe now. Myself, Dwalin and Olka camed here on our way to your home, and we made sure that there are no more trolls in the area" Thorin reassured Bilbo with a small smile. Bilbo sighed, relieved to know that. He still remembered too vividly their encounter with the three trolls.

"That's good to hear. But still, if you don't mind, I'd rather still be on quard than take it easy" Bilbo said, still being a little tense. He already feard how many nightmare's he would have. Or, how little sleep he would have. Thorin squeezed his shoulder and gave a symphatetic smile to the hobbit.

"No need to be sorry, Bilbo. It's good to be on your guard at all the times, even when one tells you there should not be any danger" Thorin said and then he left Bilbo alone with his thoughts as he went close to the old farmhouse. Bilbo stayed a while with he's pony, still feeling uneasy. After Dwalin and Olka came back with the firewood, Bilbo sighed and gave a quick kiss on top of Rosabell's snout. Then he joined sitting with the small company. And soon after Dwalin had gotten the fire going, Bilbo started to prepare their dinner. Yet again. Dwalin and Thorin weren't that good of a cook's and Olka rather enjoyed the hobbit's food. Even the green one. Sometimes the dam offeren to help the hobbit, sometiems she rather sat close to the hobbit to tell him stories.

That night Bilbo had nightmares of the jorney to reclaim Erebor, and more specific, of the evening they had encountered the trolls. (Y/n)'s scream echoed in he's ears as one of the trolls had grapped her and the terror was still fresh in his mind as Olka woke Bilbo. After reassuring the dam that he was fine, Bilbo lay there on his bedroll, unable to sleep for the rest of the night.

Why was here, again?

  Bilbo was leaning to a white fence, staring to one of the beautifulest scenery's he had ever seen. And yet, he still couldn't see it. He's mind was apsent, blank. He could only, still, hear Thorin's heartbroken cry. The elves would escort him home the next day, while the dwarves would... go back home, back to Erebor, if Bilbo had to guess. Then Bilbo lifted his eyes, finally somewhat focusing to the scenery.

Not here.

The second Elrond's face dropped, turned serious, Bilbo knew the truth. How the elf lord lost all the emotion's from he's face.

She was not here.

How convenient that Gandalf was here. From all of the places. And how nice of him to deliver the news to the group. Not. Yet again, the wizard being there seemed to be more of an joke than usefull thing.

She was not here.

It was a miracle that lord Elrond and Gandalf were still alive, given the circumstances.

She's with her family now. Lord Elrond and king Thranduil, of all the elves in the all the Middle Earth, had found a way to send her back to her world. She was where she wanted to be, where she belonged. And why ever Gandalf hadn't dropped by Bilbo's home when he had been visiting in Buckland and informed the hobbit about the new was still a mystery to the hobbit.

Bilbo's eyes finally found a lonely person standing in a far balcony. Alone, broken, and a small wooden box on his hands, playing a lullyby his mother had hummed to him when he had been a pebble. A roque tar dropped to Bilbo's cheeck as he heard Thorin's wistfull voice, how he remembered his longing look.

"One day, I wish to play this to our pebble. Mine and (Y/n)’s"

Not here.

[cinnella]

Name: Eris Zaramoza (chosen name); Yin Abo (birth name)

Age: 26 years old

Sex: Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Birthday: November 5th

Patron Arcana:

Death (Major); Queen of Cups (Minor)

Occupation: Magician and Shopkeeper; Former Necromancer

Height: 5'7" (1.71 m)

Weight: 64 kg (141 lbs)

Relatives:

Sethos Abo - older brother

Nuwa Abo - mother (deceased)

Kek Abo - father (deceased)

Xié Dongmei - aunt (deceased)

Origin: Born in Venterre, but grew up in Vesuvia

Race: Half chinese, half egyptian

Powers: Blue (astrology) and purple (divination) magic. Also has an affinity for controlling and summoning water

Intelligence Level: On a scale from 1 to 10, she's a 7

Backstory:

She was born in a small home in Venterre. Her father was already dead at the time of her birth, her brother only 5 years old and her mother deadly sick.

Only two days after her birth, her mom passed away, from the lack of proper medication. Sethos knew that she was way too young for him to take care of, so he tried to seek out their aunt, who lived on the other side of the city.

That night, he sat under a makeshift shelter with his baby sister, but he was so hungry that he had no other choice but to leave her there and try to find some food. Eventually, Yin started crying, which a passerby heard and when they found her, they took her with them.

Sethos was utterly crushed when he came back and she was gone... He tried to look for her, but he was so exhausted that he passed out in the middle of the street. Luckily, he was found by a woman with children and brought to her place.

When he had woken up, he explained his situation to her. The next morning, the woman helped him travel to his aunt's home. But by the time he got there and told her what happened to his sister and mother, Yin was already on a ship heading towards Vesuvia.

There, she was brought to an orphanage, in the South End, where multiple kids and babies from different places had been found, to be taken care of by people whom founded the building. She grew up a rather lonesome troublemaker. The caretakers were kind people, but the kids were mean. So she had no friends.

Soon enough, the adults had realized that most of the kids had no names, couldn't remember them or never knew them. So they took to liberty to name them, but because there were about 30 children and 15 adults, there was a lot of confusion and mis-naming.

They decided to teach the kids to read and write when they were old enough to understand the concepts, and on their 7th birthday, they'd choose their definitive name, something that they felt represented them.

And so, Yin Abo became Eris Zaramoza.

On that day, she met two kids that both looked younger than her. One was small and frail. Porcelain skin, black hair, mismatched eyes. Her name had been Saiya. The other was slightly taller than her. Umber skin, magenta eyes, jet black hair. The caretakers often called him Sykes. They were both known troublemakers and apparently, best friends.

They offered her to become friends and although she'd been sketchy about it, she agreed. They were her first friends, after all.

Years later, the three of them became inseparable and two new children joined their group, both of them noticeably younger. One had skin the color of limestone, ashy blond hair and silverish eyes. The other had dark espresso skin, curly chestnut hair and jade green eyes.

They were often referred to as "accidental troublemakers" because they did naughty things without even realizing it. These four kids became her kin, her family. For years upon years, the five of them brought migraines to the entirety of Vesuvia with their shenanigans. They were known as "the southenders".

The orphanage had a set rule. Despite the caretakers doing their best and raising the kids as their own, by the time Eris reached her adolescence, the amount of kids had doubled.

The set rule was that, once the kids would turn 17, they'd have to seek a home of their own. Eris is the eldest between her and her friends, so she had to leave first.

Heartbreaking as it was, they'd anticipated this for months. They'd made plans to try to find their roots. Upon talking with the adults, the one who'd found her so many years ago told her she'd been born in Venterre, near the west-coast.

After a couple of tear-filled fair-wells, she promised to visit from time to time, and then left to find her bloodrelatives. A couple of days later, looking through her instructions and map, she stood in front of an old, small house.

On the porch, a young man who looked to be in his early twenties, was seated there. She called to him, asking if he could help her out. When he looked up, shock was written on both of their faces.

He had grey-ish short hair and sapphire blue eyes. His skin was just a little bit lighter than hers, scars on his nose and lips. Same round nose, same almond eyes, same strong eyebrows. The resemblance was groundbreaking, almost like looking into a mirror.

Though she never met him, she knew, deep down, that they were related. He was utterly convinced he was dreaming but she reassured him he wasn't. They didn't hug, for they barely knew each other, but they both cried. She was invited in his home, where their aunt had been preparing dinner. Eris' presence brought her to tears.

In the next few hours, while they dined, she learned that their names were Sethos and Dongmei, and that they were her older brother and aunt, respectively. She learned of her parents and their unfortunate fate, of the night Sethos lost her.

It was a relief to learn all this, and although she wanted to head back to Vesuvia, to her friends and find a home, she spent a couple of days with them. Dongmei mentioned that she had an abandoned magic shop in Vesuvia from her youth, close to the center of the city. Giving Eris the key, she told her to make her home there.

Once back home, it was time for Count Lucio's yearly Masquerade. There, she met Asra, whom she soon became close with. When she learned that he was an orphan, and had no place to stay, she offered him to live with her in the shop. It needed some repairs and a lot of cleaning but it was a start.

Years passed and they became closer. Unspoken feelings hanging in the air, but something stopped them from confessing. The Red Plague had arrived and it was taking anyone it could grasp. Eris and Asra, while discussing the situation one night, had an argument.

In the years he'd taught her magic, she'd also taught herself necromancy and wanted to help the plague doctors with the dead, possibly reverse their fate. But Asra didn't agree, "magic isn't supposed to work that way" he said.

So she ran away, found Julian and became his apprentice.

Soon died from the plague...

And the rest is history.

Personality: curious, caring, bold, kind, polite, calm, patient, self-less, motherly, gentle, open-minded, truthful, loyal, trustworthy, out-spoken, honest, stubborn, too forgiving and can never hold grudges for long

Interesting facts:

The small scars on the right side of her jaw, left collarbone and left shoulder are all from fainting while trying to get back her memories. Every time, she had the unfortunate luck of hitting something and scarring her skin.

She has a huge scar on her left thigh but she doesn't remember how she got it.

She also has an "apple of discord" tattoo on her right shoulder.

God forbid you ever make her wear gold, she cannot stand it. She only wears silver.

Although she's an ambivert, she leans towards introvert.

Hates lying and liars in general.

HAAAATES Lavender. Do not put her near those flowers.

Appearance: Sienna skin tone, wavy waist-length silver-white hair, bright ice blue eyes, pear-shaped fit body, B cup breasts.

Familiar: Kage, a sarcastic silver fox that can actually talk.

Voice claim: Margot Robbie

Full sprite:

Lmao sorry for the backstory being so long but.. My inner writer kinda jumped out. 😅

ANYWAYS I FINALLY DID IT, I MADE ERIS' BIO AND SPRITE!!

By the way, HUGE PROPS to my lovely beyotch @sahana-anand for giving me her bio template, it helped me SO MUCH. Thank you, love, couldn't have done it without you!

Hope you'll show some love to my girl Eris!

[reallifesultanas]

Portrait of Mihrimah Sultan/Mihrimah szultána portréja

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

Origin and early years

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

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

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

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

Marriage and husband candidates

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

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

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

Marriage and relationship with her husband

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

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

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

Her intrigues

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

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

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

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

Loss of her mother

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

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

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

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

The new era

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

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

The twilight of her life

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

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

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

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

Származása és korai évei

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

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

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

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

Kiházasítása és a férjjelöltek

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

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

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

Házassága és viszonya férjével

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

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

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

Az intrikus szultána

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

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

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

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

Édesanyja elvesztése

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

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

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

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

Az új korszak

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

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

Élete alkonya

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

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

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

[pluto-art]

Out of the Cold, Out of the Cavern

Type: Fan fiction (PatB) / Self-insert/Y/N/OC (sort of...) Genre: Hurt/Comfort (what else?) Words: 4,841 Rating: K+

Fan Fiction Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13724127/1/Out-of-the-Cold-Out-of-the-Cavern

As usual, I recommend the fan fiction version, which includes all of the italicized words.

Thanks to @shuunthenonbeliever, I was inspired to finally write this. :)

“One-sixty… one-eighty… two hundred,” the plump woman said, sliding a packet of bills off her jewel-laden fingers and into yours, like water pouring out of a spout.

“Thank you,” you replied, hesitant to pocket the load with those two, round, black eyes still staring at you, burrowing into your soul. They belonged to a young girl, nine or ten in age, perhaps, with short, auburn hair, her little white and turquoise dress bouncing up and down as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, waiting, watching.

“She’ll need watch every weekday from three to nine,” instructed the woman, barely even looking at you or her daughter as she checked her purse for something. “If you have any trouble you have my work number.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“But you’ll be no trouble. Will you, Elmyra?”

“Oh, no, Ma’am. Nopey nopey nope! We’re gonna have so much fun laughing and cuddling and playing with all my fuzzy whittle animals!” screeched the girl, in a voice that scratched like sandpaper.

“Yes, dear. Be good to your new babysitter, all right? Mommy has to go to work now.”

“Bye byeeeeeee!!” Elmyra waved, smiling widely in mock innocence as her mother stepped out the door.

“Bye,” you called out, a bit half-heartedly.

As soon as the door snapped closed, Elmyra turned to look at you expectantly, beaming.

“All right. She’s gone. You can go play with your pets,” you said.

“Yaaaaaaaay!! I’m coming, my fuzzy whuzzies!”

And off she hopped, skipping down the hall and around a corner ever so gayly, to a spot that you knew to be her bedroom, where all manner of horrible and unspeakable things happened.

You turned, leaned against the front door, and inhaled a long, deep breath of air, practically sliding against the thing as you counted out the greens in your hand -- one one-hundred, a fifty, a ten, and two twenties. Yep. Checked out.

You pocketed the loose change, paused, then got up and stuck it in your backpack instead. It’s not like it was going anywhere for a while. Besides, you hated carrying around more than you needed to in your small pants pockets.

Tossing the backpack next to the living room couch, you collapsed onto said couch and took a gander at your new surroundings.

It was a quaint little abode. Could have done with a new paint job, perhaps, but the yellow interior and old-style furniture wasn’t completely abhorrent. The whole cottage was rather cute, in its own weird way, sporting the occasional gothic chandelier that would have looked much more at home in Edward Scissorhands’ house, or a wastebasket that was far too frilly and posh to even be used for its original purpose. But the seating was comfortable, the cable was working, and, best of all, the fridge, stuffed to its seams, was, according to Mrs. Duff, 100% at your disposal. If there was anything that solidified a job offer for you, it was free food.

Not that the job was all chipper and charm. You knew what you were getting into when you took it, and the intermittent screams coming from Elmyra’s bedroom, as well as the cat that nearly bit your finger off from earlier as you tried to coax him out from under the kitchen table, were stark reminders of that. Everyone in the city of Burbank knew who the Duff family was, whether it was personally or from the horror stories passed down the school halls. Most who visited their house, unless they were a close family friend or relative, never wanted to step back in it again. It was common knowledge that you only went to Elmyra’s if you wanted a nice, long day of yelling and suffering, and all in your dorm would have rather died than take on the job of babysitter when it was posted online. But you took it. You took it… partially ‘cause you had no choice. What with a full-time college schedule and not much else in the cupboard save for ramen and three-day-old apples, cash was in short supply and desperately needed, and even though the last thing you’d rather do was keep watch over this kid, you also couldn’t find a job anywhere else. Besides, the pay was good. Excellent, in fact. Two hundred every Friday. You might even splurge on Chinese this weekend.

Sliding the remote off the thick, wooden table, you flipped through the channels, one-by-one, finally landing on National Geographic. The narrator was deep in discussion about the living habits of bats. Appropriate, you thought, as Elmyra flitted out of the room, make-shift cape trailing behind her and blindfold on, zoomed into the kitchen and grabbed a packet of cookies before zipping back into her room, sounding very much like a bat as she laughed in a loud, screeching tone the entire time. You did a double-take as she slammed the door behind her. Were there… other voices coming from the room? No. That’s silly. You shook your head. Crazy.

The next couple of hours went by surprisingly uneventfully; so much so, in fact, that you wondered if there was any basis in the rumors that floated around about the Duff residence being a literal “house of horror”. Some even said the place was haunted. It wasn’t until 6:55 PM, when you went to remind Elmyra that dinner was almost ready, that you got a whiff that things weren’t… quite what they seemed.

Of the menagerie loose throughout the house, Elmyra owned a total of one cat, a parrot, a turtle, and two white mice. The turtle hid. The parrot squawked. And the mice? The mice… talked.

“Narf! Hello there!” the taller of the two said, as you meandered into the room. You cocked an eyebrow and hesitantly lifted a hand to wave at him.

“Hi…,” you replied, a little taken aback.

The shorter mouse didn’t look up at you. His focus was heavily trained on a notepad rife with complex calculations far beyond your intellect. He was scribbling away as if his life depended on it. He also called you a “disposable hindrance”, albeit indirectly to his associate, something you didn’t entirely appreciate, but you also didn’t dare talk back. Not yet.

“Oooo. Munchie time! Come on, little mousies!” Elmyra cheered, and she grabbed both rodents tight around the neck with her short, groping fingers, stuffing them into her shirt pocket as she ran out of the room and in the direction of the kitchen.

You stood behind for a moment, nonplussed. Okay then.

A soft shuffling down the hallway made you turn. It was the cat. He still looked quite wary of you.

“Hey, kitty,” you cooed, gently but not in a childish fashion; more like you were simply greeting a friend. “You gonna let me pet you this time?” you asked, bending down and holding out a hand for him to sniff.

Tenderly, cautiously, the cat stepped up to you, wagging its tail slightly behind him. You narrowed your eyes. A wagging tail wasn’t necessarily a good thing, especially when it came to cats, but this was… different. The closer he got to you the more he wagged it, as if he was… excited? Curious? He sniffed your hand… and licked it. Odd. Then he peered up into your face, lolled out a long, pink tongue, and barked.

You sat back a little, wide-eyed, as the cat-dog jumped up onto your legs and actually started licking your face. It was… weird. Cute, but… weird.

After a few hearty licks, the cat, satisfied, jumped back down, scratched itself, and ran off to play with a ball. You wondered why he hadn’t come up to you before. Perhaps he still had more of the cat than the dog in him. You also now understood why some people claimed that this house was “haunted”. Two talking mice and a barking cat. Not exactly “spooky”, under your terms, but definitely unusual. You wondered what other treasures this quirky household held. Pirate bones? Dinosaurs? You had to admit it was rather exciting.

Shuffling back into the kitchen, you found Elmyra at the table, greedily shoveling the macaroni and cheese you’d made for her into her mouth as she watched a cartoon program on tv. The mice sat beside her in a little highchair, both now dressed as infants, the big-headed one looking absolutely miserable. Now and again, Elmyra would shovel a huge spoonful of mac and cheese into one or the other’s mouth against their will. Lanky mouse didn’t seem to mind it too much. Grumpy mouse turned to look at you with an expression that read: “shoot me”.

“Elmyra, be careful with how you feed your pets, okay? They might not like too much mac and cheese…,” you suggested, cautiously, frowning a little at the big-headed mouse in pity.

You knew, of course, about this kid’s harsh treatment of her pets. Everyone knew. But her parents were rich, and could probably buy out the police station and the A.S.P.C.A. if they’d wanted to, and so no one said anything. Still, as an animal-lover, you were curious. Just how badly did she handle her critters? Maybe you could do something to relieve their pain while you were there? And the situation was bad, certainly, but you’d seen worse, and there was only so much you could say besides, at least while she was awake. Too much rebellion and you’d probably be fired. That being said, you fully intended to assist in giving the poor things a little reprieve once Elmyra went to bed in an hour, and so you let the macaroni-shoveling slide… for now.

8:00 PM came and went, with little deviation from the norm aside from Elmyra quickly popping into the kitchen again at 7:23 PM, opening the freezer, and succinctly closing it before racing back into her bedroom. You shrugged at the gesture, barely turning around from the tv, figuring she probably just went to grab some ice cream. Thankfully, Elmyra not only went to bed early, but also was a heavy sleeper, so by the time 8:15 rolled around she was already obediently in bed and snoring, needing only a reminder from you ten minutes prior. The lanky mouse opened an eye as you peeked in. He was sleeping in the bed with her.

“Sorry,” you muttered, making to close the door, but the little mouse sat up.

“Wait! D-Do you mind checking on Brain? Elmyra said he went to Antarctica, but… he hasn’t been back in a while. You’ll go look for him, won’t you?” he asked, twisting his tail as he said it.

“Sure. I’ll look for him,” you responded pleasantly, and you meant it. The mouse smiled.

“Oh, thank you!” he whispered, tucking back into bed. “Good night!”

“Night,” you whispered back, closing the door softly behind you.

You frowned. Antarctica? More than likely, cranky mouse was simply hiding somewhere, but internally you promised to keep an eye out and check a few cupboards.

Several drawers, a pantry, numerous cupboards, and a couple of closets later and you still couldn’t find the little mouse. You even checked the higher areas of the house, wondering if “Antarctica” meant somewhere scalable and colder. Your first thought, of course, had been the freezer, but that was preposterous. She wouldn’t be that cruel. Would she…?

Out of pure curiosity, you headed back into the kitchen, grabbing a bowl from a cupboard as you did so. You were hungry anyway and figured that a hearty helping of ice cream before you left in half an hour certainly couldn’t hurt. You had free reign of the fridge, after all.

You set down your little blue bowl on the counter. You grabbed a spoon from a drawer and set it in the bowl. You even snatched a couple of Oreo cookies from an Oreo cookie box nearby and plopped them next to the bowl for good measure. Could never be too careful.

Noticing that Elmyra had left a box of frozen fruit pops on the counter without putting them back, you shook your head, grabbed it, opened the freezer door…… and dropped the box onto the floor with a loud plop. Hastily, you whipped off your red sweater, reached into the freezer, and pulled out a little white ball of frozen fur and whiskers.

“Oh, you poor baby,” you cooed, cradling the small mouse in your sweater as if he were precious cargo. You tittered. “Goodness. You poor thing. She actually put you in here??”

Closing the freezer door, you brought the mouse up close, pressing a finger to where his heart would be. His eyes were shut tight, and he was curled so firmly about himself that it took a little doing to get your finger up to his chest. He didn’t stir as you moved him about. There was a heartbeat… barely, faint as a whisper. It was a miracle he was still alive.

Almost instinctively, you cupped him in your hands, brought him over to the sink, and slowly turned on the faucet, checking that the water was lukewarm before carefully sticking him under the steady stream. You didn’t want it too hot right off the bat. Even a warm temperature might be a shock.

Two minutes later, after you’d let the (hopefully) stimulating mini waterfall wash over him, you turned off the faucet and proceeded to dry him off with a towel -- softly; slowly. He still hadn’t stirred, not even a little, and you gulped. Were you too late..?

8:35 PM. The stillness of the night, save for the now dimmed volume of the television, found you sitting once more on the couch, this time with a fuzzy occupant in hand. Big-headed mousie -- the… Brain… he was called? -- lay cradled in your arms, encompassed about with a very soft, very woolly blanket indeed. It was the fluffiest you could find in the house. Nothing less would suffice, in your mind. You could only imagine how frightening of an ordeal it must have been, shivering, cowering in a freezer for an hour, not knowing if the next breath you took would be your last….

A thumb gently stroked the snow white fur of the sleeping mouse, and you couldn’t help but massage that oversized head of his from time to time, muttering to him in soothing tones as you did so.

“You poor thing…. I’m so sorry I didn’t see you in there earlier,” you apologized, even though he probably wasn’t listening. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, the only indication that he wasn’t dead being the steady beat, beat, beat of his thumping heart every half a second.

“You gonna blink for me, sweet heart?”

And then, as if on cue, the little mouse sloooowly blinked, opened his eyes, and stared at you.

“Hey there, little one,” you whispered, smiling at him. “Atta boy….”

His eyes began to shift around, rapidly, and he frowned, as if trying to take in all at once where he was and what had happened.

“It’s all right. It’s all right,” you reassured him, readjusting your grip a touch as you continued to hold him close to your chest. “I’ve got you. Elmyra’s asleep. She can’t do you any harm. And if she tried I wouldn’t let her.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it once more, and subsequently shut it again, as if at a loss for words. Perhaps he really was speechless, or perhaps he was still a little stiff from having been locked up in the freezer for so long. Whatever the reason, he continued to stare at you, almost unblinkingly. As you went to pet him again, he reeled back, breathing faster than normal.

“Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay,” you said calmingly, pausing a mite before resuming your soft massage of his head. “It’s all right, little one. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

And slowly, hesitantly, he settled.

“‘Antarctica’,” you mused, shaking your head. “I’m surprised you survived that. Poor thing….”

You continued to talk to him; comfort him. After a solid five minutes of being stroked and cooed to, he actually leaned into your hand. You could tell he enjoyed the massage, reluctant as he was to admit it. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the little fellow, even if he had been a bit of a butt to you earlier. How often did this kind of thing happen to him? Weekly? Daily? How often did he bath in this torment? You decided to ask him.

“Does she do this kind of thing to you often?”

He nodded, gaze still trained on you.

“Like… daily?”

He nodded again. You sighed.

“I’m so sorry….”

He actually shrugged.

“It’s… my life,” he coughed out, in a deep, chocolatey voice that was a little raspy. It was almost comical that a voice that low could come from something so diminutive.

“Well, it shouldn’t be your life,” you countered. “You don’t deserve any of this.” He simply blinked at you.

“How long has she had you for?”

He shrugged again.

“Over a year..?” he guessed.

“Over a year…. Sheesh…. How are you still alive?” you asked, actually chuckling a little… and regretting it immediately after. This was no laughing matter.

“I… I don’t know,” the Brain admitted, his body vibrating for a second as it released a shiver. For once, he looked away from you. “I don’t know��.”

There was something in the way that he said “I don’t know”, something in the way his voice quivered a touch as it floated off into the air, that made your heart break in two. It was as if he himself couldn’t believe they’d held out as long as they had; that they hadn’t given up all hope by this time. It was a dry admittance, a sad admittance, and he blinked rather rapidly and sniffed after saying it, as if trying to bite back tears.

Any animosity you’d had for such a creature had completely dissipated by this point. His honesty. His helpless quaver…. They’d destroyed it. With all the more tenderness, you rocked him gently to and fro, taking extra care to massage his whole little body, as best he’d let you anyway, trying to iron out every last bit of pain trapped in those delicate bones. He barely even resisted, save for asking once why you even bothered to help him in the first place.

“Because I think you needed it,” was your blunt response.

He’d looked away a little shyly at this, before turning back to look into your eyes.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and it sounded sincere.

You simply nodded, smiling at him, continuing to rub out the pain as best you could.

8:47 PM. You tossed a frown at the clock. Mrs. Duff would be back in about thirteen minutes. The time you had spent with your new charge hadn’t felt like enough. You were fully aware that you couldn’t take him back to your place for extended relief. He’d have to return to Elmyra’s room, or, at the very least, be put back somewhere in the house before the mother arrived. This posed a bit of a problem, however, for by this point he’d fallen back to sleep in your arms. You stopped rocking him back and forth for a moment to simply… look at him.

He was so small. Much smaller than expected for a pet mouse. Perhaps he’d been a field mouse in the past? A body that fragile shouldn’t be thrown around in a house by a volatile little girl. He should be cared for; comforted; loved.

8:48 PM. He was actually snoring, so quietly it was barely audible. Despite yourself, you leaned down… and kissed him on the top of his head. He stirred, but didn’t awaken.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, swallowing thickly.

You looked at the clock. 8:49 PM. You sighed.

You couldn’t do this. You knew you couldn’t do it from the moment you opened the freezer door and saw him lying in there. Two hundred dollars a week wasn’t worth it. You were going to be fired and that was that. Screw the money. The thought of leaving the two mice in such a condition as this was unbearable. You couldn’t rescue all of her animals, of course, and you hated the idea of stealing, but this one had almost died.

8:50 PM. You groaned. This wasn’t going to be easy….

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Sunday morning saw you bright and early, topping off some pancakes in your dorm room with maple syrup, cutting up a few tiny pieces, and setting aside said pieces on a small napkin on a table. Two little white mice immediately stepped up. You smiled at them as you dug into your own, much larger portion of the breakfast, watching the sun rise beyond the balcony.

In the end, you’d chosen the lesser of two evils: voluntary departure. The moment Mrs. Duff had returned home, you’d politely thanked her for the payment, but regretted that you didn’t think you could continue to operate as babysitter. She’d been disappointed, but not surprised. It wasn’t the first time a new hire had quit so suddenly. The turn-over rate with Elmyra was high.

And so you left, leaving the two mice behind at the house, but had returned the next day around 1:00 PM while Elmyra was in school and her parents were preoccupied. She had a tendency to leave her bedroom window open, you see, and it didn’t take much convincing to persuade the mice to consider new living arrangements. The taller one, whose name turned out to be Pinky, was a bit uncertain, and felt bad about ditching without even a note of thanks or apology, but the Brain said it wouldn’t matter, that Elmyra would get over it soon enough and find some other tiny rodents to torture, and so Pinky relented. Not that you could blame him for being hesitant. You also felt bad about literally kidnapping them in this way, but you couldn’t think of any alternative.

Watching Pinky happily lick maple syrup from his lips, however, and observing Brain take notes on a pad while he chewed on pancake satisfactorily, you felt it had been worth it. Pinky still felt a bit guilty about ditching Elmyra so suddenly, but he seemed to adjust to change surprisingly quickly, and sweet breakfast food every morning was a-okay in his book. Brain was still getting used to you, and spoke only when necessary, but he hadn’t forgotten the freezer incident. When he did speak to you it was fairly formal and polite, and he’d even let you scratch behind his ears now and again. Pinky was undoubtedly the friendlier of the two, and you enjoyed spending time with him, talking about movies and playing board games, but there was a special place in your heart reserved for Mr. Grumpy. You figured that would always be there after what had transpired several nights prior. All you could see whenever you opened a freezer door now was an ivory, frost-bitten body trembling in your hands.

Bright sunlight was pouring into the dorm room now, alighting the chairs, the tables, the dishware…. Smiling, you stood up, plate in hand, and stepped out onto the porch, choosing instead to rest in one of the outside seats, the better to enjoy the day’s warmth.

Several minutes later, as you popped a piece of pancake in your mouth, something, or someone, crawled up into the chair beside you. You looked down. It was Brain.

“Hello,” you greeted him pleasantly.

“Hello,” he replied. He licked his lips a little timidly. “Umm….”

“Yes?”

“I…. Well, I… I just wanted to say that… you’ve…. Well, it’s… it’s nicer here than at Elmyra’s….”

“Glad to hear that. I would hope so,” you smirked.

“And… I…. Well, I… um…,” he stammered, scratching at his neck.

You smiled.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You’re welcome.”

He looked up at you, then back at the sunrise. A minute passed. Quietly, inconspicuously, he sidled up close to you, and leaned his entire body against yours, closing his eyes as he did so. Your heart warmed at this show of trust. Oh….

Gently, so as not to startle him, you brought up a hand and began massaging him.

“I love you, little one,” you whispered under your breath.

In response, he pressed closer against you. It wasn’t at all what you expected from him, but you gratefully accepted it all the same.

You both sat like that for a long time, enjoying the touch of the sun’s rays, Pinky finally joining in some moments later as he snuggled up to his friend. Brain actually wrapped an arm around Pinky... and smiled. Pinky hugged him back.

A grin tugged at the corners of your mouth as you watched them, before turning your attention back to the sunrise. Hot pancakes. A beautiful view. Soft mice. And no Elmyra. It was nice. 

As you petted the two little fuzzies cuddled up next to you, warm and full and far away from any girls who would put them in freezers, one thing became absolutely decided in your mind: no amount of money could ever substitute for this.

The End

--------------------------

Author’s Note:

I promised myself I’d never do a self-insert. Granted, that applied more to drawings, and even then I’ve made a couple of exceptions in the past, but writing out this kind of thing is still a bit embarrassing to me. I feel like it tampers too much with the canon universe, but, then again, so do AUs and even fan fiction in general. Every story is a “what if”.

This one came about, however, because I was inspired by a friend of mine, Shuun. She’d written a very sweet little story called Haven Forbid (which I suggest you check out), that was, in turn, partially inspired by a soft idea I’d had in which a young woman, taking on the job of Elmyra’s babysitter, discovers Brain trapped in the freezer and proceeds to nurse him back to health. The idea in general is one I’ve had for months and months and months. Whenever I daydream about cuddling and comforting Brain, it often comes back to this particular scenario. So, yes, it’s a flat-out self-insert. Ha-ha. I just normally don’t like sharing these things publicly, but Shuun inspired me to be brave. Heh. :)

Although this is written with a y/n perspective, the character of the babysitter is basically me. This is what I would most likely do if in this situation. Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain is a show that I not only abhor, but that hurts my heart terribly. The pain I feel regarding Brain, watching him get beat up, tossed around, thrown against walls, choked, and all manner of other despicable things, is nigh through the roof. So dearly do I yearn to rescue him from such a predicament that I’ve literally been in tears thinking about what he had to endure in that show, even though it’s technically not canon. He can be a little butt himself sometimes, but he absolutely did not deserve any of what he was put through in that series.

Hand me a little frozen Brain and I’d do exactly what you saw in the story. Let me warm him; hold him; love him; tell him he’s not alone…. He’d probably balk at a majority of it, but, deep down, he wants to be comfortable and secure as much as the next person. I have so much love for this little fellow. A lot of the time he needs a kick in the pants, to be certain, and occasionally he’d rather be left alone than spoken to, but once in a while, even though he’d never admit it, I think he also needs a kiss to the head.

(As a side note, the title of this story was… paaaaartially inspired by the famous “Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire” chapter title in The Hobbit.)

[orionsangel86]

Sam & Eileen - A Supernatural Romance.

I am quite clearly over the moon about 15x06 and Sam reunited with and bringing Eileen back from the dead. I was so over the moon in fact, that I burst into tears when Eileen stepped out of the bathtub and took Sam’s hand. That was… wow. 

That was the most romantic moment in this show since 13x05 “it’s never too late” (also a return from the dead!)

So I was inspired to write an homage meta post celebrating Sam and Eileen’s romance looking back at everything canon has given us on this epic pairing.

It turns out, despite all my usual grumbling, there is still one het ship out there that I can totally get behind, and no one deserves love more than our dear Sam Winchester.

11x04 - Baby

This is where I believe the story started for Sam. 

“You don’t ever want something more?”

(x)

“You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?”

This question, from Sam to his brother at the start of Season 11, has shaped so much of the subtext in the seasons following. It’s significance to the Winchesters individual development arcs, their hopes, their dreams. It blatantly spelled out for the audience what both these boys desire and what they deserve for each of their endgames.

Not a white picket fence, not the apple pie life, just something. Something that suits them. Something to share with someone else, romantically, who might fit that particular box. Let me be very clear here and stress that Sam certainly wasn’t talking about him and Dean finding that something with each other.

Dean’s journey towards finding that something has been building for even longer than this particular moment in canon, with the other stand out scene being his confession in 10x16 where he talked about having things, people, feelings, that I want to experience differently than before, or maybe even for the first time. Dean’s journey is something we have discussed at length, and as every meta writer in fandom knows all too well, it only leads in one particular direction - towards a certain dreamy blue eyed angel. 

Sam’s journey has not been discussed as intensely as Dean’s, but 11x04 did lay groundwork for the writers to build upon. It hasn’t been as smooth or as obvious in the subtext as Dean’s either, with certain writing decisions appearing to come out of left field and confuse the path. But it seems that Dabb has course corrected and brought us back on track. 

This episode was the first time in canon in a long time that we heard Sam textually voice his desire for a romantic relationship of some kind. I therefore immediately got excited and locked this moment away in a pocket in my heart to pull out again if ever the show would introduce a character who could fit those requirements for Sam. 

The show did not disappoint.

11x11 Into the Mystic

GOD I forgot how full of delicious layers this episode was! It was written by the same writer who wrote 11x04. Robbie Thompson clearly had something in mind for Sam when he first wrote that script, and he gave it to us (and Sam) in this episode.

Eileen is introduced in 11x11 as another Hunter on a quest for vengeance - to avenge her murdered family.

It isn’t a surprise that we basically immediately shipped Eileen with Sam after this episode first aired, because her entire backstory is written to compliment Sam. Within the first 5 minutes of getting to know her, she already fulfills the requirements from Sam’s wistful speech in 11x04. She is a hunter, she is someone who understands the life. But more than that, she is all of the following:

She is on a revenge quest

She has murdered parents

She was raised by a Hunter or rather “trained” to be a Hunter rather than raised (in a scene which implies a similarly strict hunter upbringing to Sam and Dean)

She continued hunting alone after her guardian died

Her grandfather was a Man of Letters, making her a MOL Legacy, just like Sam.

Her mother was a lawyer, so she makes a joke about studying law which prompts further bonding with Sam due to his Stanford law education.

Eileen catches Sam’s eye almost immediately, and it is surprising I didn’t pick up on that on my first watch at the time, but Eileen is literally disguised as the cleaner in order to go unnoticed. Sam had no reason to be suspicious of her, and I think at the time we all assumed that he just wanted to question a potential witness - but even so, there was no need to interrupt Mildred to go speak to her. Could Sam’s distraction have been a bit more than strictly professional? In hindsight I’m gonna go with YES.

Their next meet is cute simply because by this point the audience is misled to think that she is actually the banshee. The ominous music tones, the shots of Eileen watching the Winchesters from a window. We believe that she is the villain, and then when she uses magic to pin Sam and comes at him with a dagger it’s practically a romantic trope used in enemies to lovers fics. A case of mistaken identity (another trope) and Sam and Eileen are able to reveal each of their truths. They bond immediately with both Sam and the audience learning all of the above. the checklist requirements indicating their compatibility is so blatantly obvious its almost too on the nose. But then het romance always seems that way doesn’t it?

The real kicker in this episode that made my heart sing at the time was this:

“Feel free to drop me a line if you ever need anything. Or even if you just wanna hang out”

“you can’t call me though, I mean you could call but I won’t answer.”

(x)

FIRST OF ALL - HOW DARE YOU KILL ME WITH FEELS SAMMY OVER THAT GORGEOUS SMILE

Sam’s line here though was SUCH A LINE. “Or even if you just wanna hang out”

I see you Sam Winchester. Hoping for Netflix and Chill right? I know you have Netflix. You gave Cas your password. :P

This little interaction at the end of this episode was pure flirtation and it was gorgeous to watch (and to rewatch, with hindsight, knowing what happens in 15x06 to totally deepen their relationship. Urgh. I guess I really am a sucker for a good old fashioned Supernatural Love Story!)

The other big takeaway from this episode is that meeting Eileen rejuvenated Sam. He starts the episode unable to sleep, haunted by his Lucifer trauma and feeling so down and broody that Dean steps in constantly to ask if he’s okay and try to engage in talking about feelings (always a bad sign for a Winchester to get to the point where they feel they need to ask the other to talk about feelings!)

But the end of the episode marks a significant change in Sam. He smiles, he opens up to Dean, he textually states that the case helped him. He opens up a keepsake box (that we never knew he had before this episode) and puts the retirement homes leaflet in there - an indication that he actually has hope that he might live to see a happy retirement (a wonderful sign for someone who just 40 minutes ago was acting like a total nihilist.)

The case alone wasn’t some spectacular revelation, so what else could have possibly caused Sam’s change of heart? The answer is obvious. Eileen did. She acted like a beacon of light this episode for Sam, and in a perfect bookend to how the episode opened, Sam curls up in bed, turns off his light, and is able to sleep. It is only Dean who spends the night restless and haunted.

This was the first time that Eileen acted as a “win” for Sam just by meeting him.

Unfortunately, we don’t meet Eileen again until a whole season later in

12x17 - The British Invasion

This episode is a far cry away from 11x11′s layered genius. Messy, overly plot heavy, too many various character stories causing mental whiplash, too much focus on unnecessary side characters, LUCIFER existing in general, an unnecessary sex scene between Mary and Ketch (eww), a bloody death scene, and moments of utter stupidity from the lead characters.

In other words it’s a CLASSIC BUCKLEMING.

Do yourselves a favour and if you ARE planning on re-watching this episode, just skip to the parts with Dean, Sam and Eileen (the Dagon and Kelly stuff is relatively good as well - the rest is utter garbage).

Anyway, pushing aside my hatred for the terrible duo for a moment, I will say that as per usual, what they lack in subtlety and intelligent subtextual layering, they make up for with a sledge hammer to the face in terms of trying to get a point across. So when it comes to Saileen in this episode, well, it might as well be canon already.

Practically every time Sam and Eileen interact in this episode, they are framed as a flirtatious couple in the early tentative stages. The smiles and playful flirting, the smirks when one does something to make the other proud. It is very clear, even if it is still technically subtextual, that both Jared and Shoshannah are playing this like these characters are attracted to one another, and are building on that relationship.

Hell, even Dean teases Sam twice about Eileen in this episode (though once was in a deleted scene that they should have kept instead of the Lucifer crap):

(x)

What we also find out from this opening scene, is that Sam and Eileen have been communicating off screen since 11x11. It is textually confirmed that the two of them have been developing their relationship previously, and we just haven’t seen it. Did Eileen visit the Bunker previously? Because she certainly seemed comfortable there this episode. Have her and Sam cuddled up to watch movies previously? (We know another pairing that textually do this even though we’ve never seen it on screen - Dean and Cas). Dean feels comfortable enough to tease his little brother in that playful typical sibling way, so clearly Eileen at this point has become a more frequent character in Sam’s life. It’s just a shame we as the audience have never seen anything of it until this episode. 

This episode might be the first time we have seen her again since her introduction, but it certainly isn’t the first time Sam has seen her since. This is canon.

The rest of this episode continues this theme of displaying with zero subtlety that Sam and Eileen have something more than friendship. One of the easiest ways to truly see the effect of this is just watching Sam in scenes with her compared to Sam at any other time. Like in 11x11, Eileen manages to light Sam up and have him grinning like a puppydog. It’s kind of adorable and also quite shocking when you realise how rare it is to see Sam smile (or any of the characters in this angstfest of a TV show for that matter.)

Just look at the above cheesy smile in the car scene. Look at Sam’s bashful face here when Dean teases him in front of his girl:

(x)

Look at this smug face when Eileen snaps back at the irritating guy:

(x)

Jared hits every mark playing a loved up Sam Winchester. 

By the end of this episode, a tragedy strikes and Eileen is scared off. Their relationship here ends on a comforting hug, because meaningful relationships in this show are almost always first signified with comforting hugs following traumatic events, and tentative hand holding.

The way he strokes her hair gently is just SO touching and intimate.

(x)

When all is said and done Eileen leaves, terrified of the British Men of Letters. When Dean asks Sam where she was, he tells him she went back to Ireland, and Sam looks so dejected at that thought. I don’t see how anyone can possibly read his reactions towards Eileen as anything other than romantic affection.

As a bonus point - I will mention that due to Bucklemings sledgehammer approach, it is quite clear that Eileen plays a Cas mirror in this episode. All of her scenes with Sam are paired off against Dean who spends this entire episode trying and failing to get hold of Castiel. In the Winchester’s final scene, Sam greets Dean in the morning and immediately asks his brother about Cas. Sam does this a lot in season 12, because Dean’s concern for Cas is present throughout every episode in which he is absent. Dean admits he is worried, but changes the subject, instead asking Sam about Eileen (note that it is the next morning so Dean assumed she had stayed the night).

Both brothers revert to the other when it comes to their respective partners. Sam leaves it up to Dean to contact and worry about Cas, and Dean does the same with Sam about Eileen. By this being a common pattern throughout pretty much all of Carver/Dabb eras, both brothers subtextually acknowledge that they each have a strong emotional connection with their respective potential romantic partners and therefore any contact or communication about each partner must come from the brother closest. 

12x21 - There’s Something About Mary

Another Buckleming episode and the less said about this one the better. I won’t even mention the extremely insulting and inappropriate way to kill off a disabled character (almost as bad as killing off a lesbian by having nazis butcher her) I also won’t comment on the letter that Eileen sent Sam which whilst it did have romantic undertones, was clearly written by a 12 year old girl and did not marry with Eileen’s character at all (Eugenie showing her misogyny again).

The one good thing that came out of this episode (the only good thing) was Jared’s understated grief over Eileen’s death. 

(x)

(x)

His performance dealing with her death in this episode was beautiful. It was understated, but clearly portrayed as heartbreaking. Unfortunately Sam had to push it down and bottle it up. 

Eileen’s death was a huge shocker to us all as it didn’t make any sense at that point to cut short a story that seemed so clearly to be on a specific trajectory. We often talk about how Eileen’s romance with Sam at the time was tied to Dean and Cas, and that their relationship paralleled Dean and Cas’s in the narrative. This is all true, especially the death of Eileen coming as foreshadowing for the death of Castiel at series end. Just looking at that above gif of Sam where he looks at her corpse bears an extreme resemblance to Dean pulling back the sheet and looking down at a dead Castiel in 13x01.

However much I squee and love that these relationships are clear mirrors of each other though, I need to stress how Saileen, how Sam and Eileen’s canon relationship, is so much more than that. They may have mirrored Destiel, but they are also totally different, on a different course, and with a totally different backstory. Eileen doesn’t exist just to give Sam his own version of Cas to run off with. She is not there just to push up a separate ship. Sam and Eileen’s romance stands alone in this story. It may mirror DeanCas at times, but its purpose is not for DeanCas. It’s purpose is for Sam and Eileen. 

Right from the start she ticked all of Sam’s boxes, and the clear attraction between them made it obvious. Yet Eileen was not written to just be a love interest either. She is an ally, a capable hunter, who is written deeply, with her own trauma’s and tragic past. Yet she keeps fighting, all whilst owning her disability and making it work for her rather than hold her back. She is hardly a Lisa, or an Amelia, both of whom had zero depth of character and were more or less written to look pretty and concerned as the Winchester boys basically treated them terribly. Eileen stands out as an individual character far beyond her relationship with Sam. She was full of potential which is why her quick death was an absolute travesty. 

Eileen should not have been killed off. I believe even the writers are well aware of that, and this is why they brought her back. 

Which brings me to:

15x06 - Golden Time

We knew long before this episode aired that Eileen would be back as Dabb revealed her return at SDCC. He made comments at the time ensuring that any characters he brought back would not be fanservice, that they would be characters chosen because the writers felt their stories ended too quickly, and that they had more stories to tell. Something I believe that DabbBerens are doing in particular in this season is righting the wrongs of the past. Eileen’s death was a clear “wrong” and I think its highly likely that DabbBerens’ were aware of this and saw Eileen as a no-brainer to bring back. As I said at the start of this post, Dabb is course correcting, getting his endgame plans back on track, and ensuring that he hits certain markers in order to do that. 

Once again, we are at a place in the story where Sam is grieving, and suffering deeply from all of the loss and trauma that he has faced. Being God’s personal puppet, losing his mother, losing his son, and losing someone he was close to in Rowena by his own hand, has left him in a dark place. Sam’s arc in early season 15 plays out very similarly to Dean’s arc in early season 13. A Winchester in desperate need of a win.

Eileen was Sam’s win in this episode.

Given the time that has passed since Eileen’s last episode, and how the narrative has progressed since then, I was worried that Eileen’s return would seem like fan service, and would therefore fall flat (I felt this way with AU!Charlie and never warmed to the character because of it). I was also worried that whatever potential relationship might have been building between her and Sam in seasons 11 and 12 might not have shone through in this episode. But thankfully the writers played it pretty damn perfectly and Eileen’s return wasn’t just a small side plot to an otherwise jam packed episode (like Kevin’s return in 15x02). No, her story was the A plot as Sam devoted himself to finding a way to save her from a terrible fate.

My concerns about their potential romantic relationship not being played as it was in 12x17 were also completely unfounded. From the moment Sam saw Eileen’s ghost whilst on a jog the romance was immediately back and I have no doubt that Jared and Shoshannah are once again fully playing up the connection and romantic attraction between the two. 

I am so convinced of the romance being put across here, and I want you to see why I adore this so much (in case you don’t already see it). So here are my biggest and most important takeaways from Eileen and Sam’s scenes in this episode and WHY I feel these stand out as significant elements towards proving the writers intentions for this to be an endgame canon relationship:

1. Aside from the obvious similarities between Sam and Eileen that were written into 11x11 in order to ensure that Eileen was able to stand as Sam’s equal, the one other thing that we have long discussed that Sam needs in a partner is someone who at least somewhat understands the trauma and pain that he has experienced in his life. Sam has predominantly bonded with people via shared trauma. Before her death, Eileen had had her fair share of traumatic experiences growing up in the tough hunter lifestyle, but spending an eternity being tortured in Hell is a different level of trauma entirely.

This episode cleverly once again elevated Eileen to the same level as Sam. They are equals now, both through good and bad experiences. Eileen was dragged to Hell, and only escaped when Chuck released the souls. Given that 1 year on Earth is 100 years in Hell, this means that Eileen was in Hell for 250 years give or take. Her trauma, her pain over this, is something that she can’t talk about just yet, but this significant connection between her and Sam was textualised clearly:

SAM: “I’ve been there too. Hell… long time ago. You try and forget but it gets inside you. Talking helps.”

EILEEN: “I can’t. not yet.”

SAM: “I understand”

And he really does. It is something that we can argue is a shared suffering that can create a (forgive me for this) profound bond between two people. The only other people who can understand just what he has been through were Dean (via years of Hell torture), Cas (via shared Lucifer possession), and Rowena (via shared Lucifer torture). Eileen now makes that very small list.

2. The other big factor that this episode made clear to point out textually was that this is not a Chuck manipulation. This really is Eileen, and her return from death is not part of Chuck’s story: 

SAM: “Rowena got it, she didn’t know the details but she knew the game was rigged so this. Magic. This is how she kept control.”

The reason I do not believe that Eileen is part of Chuck’s manipulations is this very pointed line right here about Rowena. Along with many other things in this episode that indicate that it isn’t guided by Chuck, Sam specifically clarifies that Rowena used magic to maintain control over her own universe.

Whilst I fully believe that Rowena will be coming back as Queen of Hell (because whatever happens to Heaven and Hell at the end, they will need balance, and someone to play caretaker and Rowena has just been set up for this role far too perfectly for me not to at least consider the option), this episode so beautifully respects and honours her character, to the point that Rowena, even in her absence, is able to control and play architect to all that happens. Rowena effectively is given Chuck’s role over this particular narrative, but instead of being framed as something villainous, it is portrayed as a precious gift that she has given to her protege Sam.

Rowena rigged the system for herself, as Sam textually explains. Her use of magic, was her way of escaping Chuck’s control, and it is through Rowena that Sam is also given this power. The power to bring back someone he loves - who was most likely taken from him by Chuck’s own dark and poorly written story (yes I do believe that Meredith was throwing shade at Buckleming in the deep subtext - pretty much all the other writers do this all the time if you pay close enough attention :P)

Rowena’s journey from villain, to reluctant ally, to friend and then finally to family, is one of the most beautiful and epic journey’s on the show (rivalled only by Castiel in my opinion). She remains one of my all time favourite characters, and her tribute in this episode, that even after death she could bestow such a precious gift to Sam, is one that I think will remain one of the more touching stories this show has given us. This is yet another reason why I believe that Sam and Eileen are endgame. Because it is a gift from Rowena, and I believe it is a gift that will be honoured by the writers.

3. It’s a small moment, but it is IMPORTANT. Sam confirms that he was teaching himself ASL after he met Eileen. In a moment of adorable flirtation Eileen beams at him and a bashful Sam smiles and bounces on the spot like a giddy schoolboy. This is yet another reveal of moments in the lives of the Winchesters that we just don’t see in 40 minute episodes. That it is canon that Sam spent hours of his life teaching himself ASL so he could more effectively communicate with Eileen is so precious. There is no way to argue how much she meant to him. 

But it isn’t just evidence of Sam’s affections, it proves to be a useful tool to the hunt in this episode as well. When Sam is unable to speak due to the witches curse, he is instead able to sign “My brother” to Eileen so that she knows to go and get Dean. It is Sam’s knowledge of sign language, which he learned due to his affection and interest in Eileen, that saves his life in this episode. 

One point that I HAVE to mention here is how the writers gave so much thought to their depiction of Eileen as a deaf person, and how wonderful her return is as representation for deaf and hard of hearing people everywhere. In both this episode, and also in her first episode 11x11, her disability was not treated as a set back, but as a tool that enables her to get ahead. The only time the writing displayed an insulting and frankly ableist light was Bucklemings 12x21 which isn’t really surprising. We expect such things from Buckleming. The other writers have proven how much more compassionate and caring they are.

The idea that Sam Winchester could end up falling in love with a beautiful, deaf woman in Eileen is practically unheard of in TV media. When do the protagonists ever end up with anyone less than “TV perfect”? It is groundbreaking that Supernatural in it’s 15 seasons has grown so much and come so far. That it started with the fridging of two women, that it’s cast remained predominantly white men throughout its entire run, that it was blackened by excessive misogyny in its early days, as well as ableism via the treatment of Bobby Singer’s paralysis in season 5. 

Supernatural has faced heavy criticism throughout it’s run, but it seems like the writers have listened and are learning. By allowing Sam and Eileen to have a happy endgame, they are doing a wonderful service in truly putting this show on the map for progression and representation - They just need to make sure that they follow through on that other big important thing too…

4. Rebirth and new beginnings. I am reminded of 13x05 and the brilliant Steppenwolf song “It’s Never Too Late To Start Again” as I rewatch the bathroom scene for the hundredth time. If the rest of the episode hasn’t already had you crying out how desperately these two should be together I fully believe it was Meredith’s plan (along with the entire production crew and Shoshannah and Jared), to have us all bawling our eyes out in happy tears that Sam and Eileen get to be together now!! (well, I certainly cried. A lot. and ruined my mascara. and squeaked at such a high pitch only dogs could hear me. The only other time I have had that reaction was in 13x05… oh, and 12x19. It’s RARE okay!)

I think the most significant point here is the touching of hands, which calls back to an earlier painful moment in the episode when ghost Eileen reached out to try to comfort Sam as he despaired about being a cosmic joke, and found she wasn’t even able to touch him. 

It is a romantic trope that was most famously used in the film Ghost, where touch was a big part of the on screen relationship. Supernatural displays this same trope rather perfectly here when the big win of the episode takes place, and Eileen emerges from the bathtub alive and whole, and tentatively reaches out to take Sam’s hand again with vastly different results.

(x)

Sam is so hesitant to touch her back, so fearful that this isn’t real, that he isn’t being allowed this. The overwhelming sense of relief and warmth that radiates from him when he finally does take her hand was exactly what made me burst into tears. The moment is so extremely breathtaking, so intimate and touching that your heart just aches for them to have that happy ending. It’s rare that Supernatural gives us moments like this, but when it does give them, when it allows its characters a win, they are immediately memorable and stand out as bright spots in an otherwise dark show. It’s moments like this that make watching these characters suffer so much worth it in the end.

The hug that comes after the touching of hands is just as intimate. This is portrayed as a lifeline. Something for Sam to grasp onto and breath. Something that inspires him to change his outlook, to gather his determination, and to convince his brother to join him and fight for the happy ending that both of these boys so desperately deserve.

(x)

The entire bathroom scene was a testament to how well Supernatural can work romance into its narrative. How these talented creators can easily provide us with a romantic scene to tug on our heart strings. Anyone screaming that romance doesn’t belong in this show I will now point at this scene and tell them exactly how wrong they are. This scene is EXACTLY what this show needed. 

For anyone denying the romance here (yeah funny how the bronly’s are so anti Saileen - I wonder why...) I’ll spell it out for them:

This is how you set up a romantic scene in TV Production:

1. Candlelight. Check.

2. Soft focus (dates back to the 1930s when films would use soft focus to portray the dreamy emotional uplift of happy couples in love - see Meet Me In Saint Louis for a very clear example). It is almost always considered a filming technique to portray romance. Check.

3. Chivalry. As if any of us didn’t expect Sam to be a perfect gentleman! But the fact is that the way he turns his back and waits with bated breath to see if the spell had worked is shown as anything other than platonic. He is almost shy, knowing that if and when she emerges from the water she will be naked, but he turns to preserve her dignity. Check.

4. Leading on from that, this is literally a naked woman emerging from a bathtub whilst Sam awkwardly stands in the room. It could have been highly sexualised. They could have used that god awful 70s porno music they like so much in this show. Sam could have made a joke to dispel the tension. If this was a platonic friendship, any of these things would have given it away. The fact that none of this happened, that the scene remained tense and intimate but not overly sexualised only further validates the romantic reading. I mean LOOK AT THIS:

CHECK

5. The music. Music is such an important part in any story. It always plays a vital role in signifying the correct atmosphere, and the correct tone of a scene. We talk about music a lot in relation to Dean and Cas and the sweeping melodic notes that usually compliment any heightened emotional DeanCas scene. The music during THIS scene though? Well it was beautifully romantic in every way. If in doubt, just go back and listen to it with your eyes closed. Play this music track over another random scene of two people sharing a moment, and it will make the scene read as romantic. I guarantee it. 

CHECK AND MATE.

Overall, this episode was the most romantic and most intimate Sam and Eileen have ever got yet in canon. It is a clear indication that their relationship is heading in a positive direction. I couldn’t be happier with how the writers are portraying this and am jumping for joy at the thought that Sam might actually get what he desired all those years ago during 11x04 when he tried to bring up the topic to Dean in the Impala.

We know from promo photos, that Eileen is still staying with Sam in 15x07. That she comforts him. With images like this to go on:

I’d say with some confidence that we will get to further watch their relationship grow, and I couldn’t be more excited for it.

I fully expect there to be darker moments coming up, and potentially Eileen will be sent away for a period of time (my money is on Chuck “dusting” her the way he did with Becky in 15x04 because I don’t believe that kills people and I do believe that they can be brought back from wherever he sends them too - plus “dusting” makes me think of Avengers Endgame which I find amusing because the “dusted” all returned at the end. I wouldn’t be surprised if Supernatural played around with that as it so often likes to play with pop culture references). I think that post Mid Season Finale we will be back to a period of utter loss and despair for the Winchester boys, and that therefore those who they feel strongly for (aka Cas and Eileen) will have to be separated from them.

However, the point is that it is always darkest before the dawn. In this story, 15x06 has laid the groundwork for Eileen to be Sam’s romantic endgame. It’s now up to Sam, and Eileen, to make sure they fight to get what they both so desire.

Bring on the finale show.

(If you liked this meta run through of Sam and Eileen’s building relationship, please leave a comment for me. It took forever to complete! Also, please click the links under the gifs and go give the gifmakers some love! The gifsets I have used are all wonderful and deserve your reblogs. (Gifs that don’t have links are my own)).

:)

[haruatori]

Common list of misconceptions

Had great fun learning about these, maybe now I will remember it better:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_common_misconceptions

Fortune cookies, despite being associated with Chinese cuisine in the United States, were invented in Japan and introduced to the US by the Japanese.[11] The cookies are extremely rare in China, where they are seen as symbols of American cuisine.[12]

The United States does not require police officers to identify themselves as police in the case of a sting or other undercover work, and police officers may lie when engaged in such work.[25] Claiming entrapment as a defense instead focuses on whether the defendant was induced by undue pressure (such as threats) or deception from law enforcement to commit crimes they would not have otherwise committed.[26]

Parody singer "Weird Al" Yankovic did not write or perform most of the songs and comedy sketches attributed to him or "Weird Al Yankovich" on the Internet.[48]

The forbidden fruit mentioned in the Book of Genesis is never identified as an apple,[51] a misconception widely depicted in Western art.The original Hebrew texts mention only tree and fruit. Early Latin translations use the word mali, which can mean either "evil" or "apple" depending on if the A is short or long respectively, although the difference in vowel length had already vanished from speech in Latin at the time. In early Germanic languages the word "apple" and its cognates usually simply meant "fruit". German and French artists commonly depict the fruit as an apple from the 12th century onwards, and John Milton's Areopagitica from 1644 explicitly mentions the fruit as an apple.[52] Jewish scholars have suggested that the fruit could have been a grape, a fig, an apricot, or an etrog.[53]

The Bible does not say that exactly three magi came to visit the baby Jesus, nor that they were kings, or rode on camels, or that their names were Casper, Melchior, and Balthazar, nor what color their skin was. Three magi are inferred because three gifts are described, but we only know that they were plural (at least 2); there could have been many more and probably an entourage accompanied them on their journey. The artistic depictions of the nativity have almost always depicted three magi since the 3rd century.[57] The Bible only specifies an upper limit of 2 years for the interval between the birth and the visit (Matthew 2:16), and artistic depictions and the closeness of the traditional dates of December 25 and January 6 encourage the popular assumption that the visit took place in the same season as the birth, but later traditions varied, with the visit taken as occurring up to two years later. The association of magi with kings comes from efforts to tie the visit to prophecies in the Book of Isaiah.[58]

No Biblical or historical evidence supports Mary Magdalene having been a prostitute.[59]

The idea that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute before she met Jesus is not found in the Bible or in any of the other earliest Christian writings. The misconception likely arose due to a conflation between Mary Magdalene, Mary of Bethany (who anoints Jesus's feet in John 11:1–12), and the unnamed "sinful woman" who anoints Jesus's feet in Luke 7:36–50.[59]

The Quran does not promise martyrs 72 virgins in heaven. It does mention companions, houri, to all people—martyr or not—in heaven, but no number is specified. The source for the 72 virgins is a hadith in Sunan al-Tirmidhi by Imam Tirmidhi.[74][75] Hadiths are sayings and acts of the prophet Muhammad as reported by others, and as such they are not part of the Quran itself. Muslims are not meant to necessarily believe all hadiths, and that applies particularly to those hadiths that are weakly sourced, such as this one.[76] Furthermore, the correct translation of this particular hadith is a matter of debate.[74] In the same collection of Sunni hadiths, however, the following is judged strong (hasan sahih): "There are six things with Allah for the martyr. He is forgiven with the first flow of blood (he suffers), he is shown his place in Paradise, he is protected from punishment in the grave, secured from the greatest terror, the crown of dignity is placed upon his head—and its gems are better than the world and what is in it—he is married to seventy two wives among wide-eyed houris (Al-Huril-'Ayn) of Paradise, and he may intercede for seventy of his close relatives."[77]

Ancient Greek and Roman sculptures were originally painted bright colors; they only appear white today because the original pigments have deteriorated. Some well-preserved statues still bear traces of their original coloration.[127][128]

The accused at the Salem witch trials in North America were not burned at the stake; about 15 died in prison, 19 were hanged and one was pressed to death.[172]

Marie Antoinette did not say "let them eat cake" when she heard that the French peasantry were starving due to a shortage of bread. The phrase was first published in Rousseau's Confessions when Marie was only nine years old and most scholars believe that Rousseau coined it himself, or that it was said by Maria Theresa, the wife of Louis XIV. Even Rousseau (or Maria Theresa) did not use the exact words but actually Qu'ils mangent de la brioche, meaning "Let them eat brioche" (a rich type of bread). Marie Antoinette was a target of attacks from radical jacobins; therefore, political activists attributed the phrase "let them eat cake" to her, to promulgate an image of her as disconnected from her subjects.[173]

Napoleon Bonaparte was not short. He was actually slightly taller than the average Frenchman of his time.[180] After his death in 1821, the French emperor's height was recorded as 5 feet 2 inches in French feet, which in English measurements is 5 feet 7 inches (1.70 m).[181] He was actually nicknamed le Petit Caporal (The Little Corporal) as a term of endearment.[182] Napoleon was often accompanied by his imperial guard, who were selected for their height[183]—this may have contributed to a perception that he was comparatively short.

There was no widespread outbreak of panic across the United States in response to Orson Welles's 1938 radio adaptation of H.G. Wells's The War of the Worlds. Only a very small share of the radio audience was even listening to it, and isolated reports of scattered incidents and increased call volume to emergency services were played up the next day by newspapers, eager to discredit radio as a competitor for advertising. Both Welles and CBS, which had initially reacted apologetically, later came to realize that the myth benefited them and actively embraced it in later years.[200]

Rosa Parks was not sitting in the front ("white") section of the bus during the event that made her famous and incited the Montgomery bus boycott. Rather, she was sitting in the front of the back ("colored") section of the bus, where African Americans were expected to sit, but refused to give up her seat to a white man who asked for it (which was also the expected action of African Americans at the time).

Although popularly known as the "red telephone", the Moscow–Washington hotline was never a telephone line, nor were red phones used. The first implementation of the hotline used teletype equipment, which was replaced by facsimile (fax) machines in 1988. Since 2008, the hotline has been a secure computer link over which the two countries exchange emails.[220] Moreover, the hotline links the Kremlin to the Pentagon, not the White House.[221]

Bulls are not enraged by the color red, used in capes by professional matadors. Cattle are dichromats, so red does not stand out as a bright color. It is not the color of the cape, but the perceived threat by the matador that incites it to charge.[238]

Dogs do not sweat by salivating[239] Dogs actually do have sweat glands and not only on their tongues; they sweat mainly through their footpads. However, dogs do primarily regulate their body temperature through panting.[240] (See also: Dog anatomy).

Bats are not blind. While about 70 percent of bat species, mainly in the microbat family, use echolocation to navigate, all bat species have eyes and are capable of sight. In addition, almost all bats in the megabat or fruit bat family cannot echolocate and have excellent night vision.[244]

The notion that goldfish have a memory span of just a few seconds is false.[250][251] It is much longer, counted in months.

There is no such thing as an "alpha" in a wolf pack. An early study that coined the term "alpha wolf" had only observed unrelated adult wolves living in captivity. In the wild, wolf packs operate more like human families: there is no defined sense of rank, parents are in charge until the young grow up and start their own families, younger wolves do not overthrow an "alpha" to become the new leader, and social dominance fights are situational.[254][255]

Mice do not have a special appetite for cheese, and will eat it only for lack of better options. Mice actually favor sweet, sugary foods. It is unclear where the myth came from.[260]

Sunflowers do not always point to the sun. Flowering sunflowers face a fixed direction (often east) all day long, but not necessarily the sun.[287] However, in an earlier developmental stage, before the appearance of flower heads, the immature buds do track the sun (a phenomenon called phototropism) and the fixed alignment of the mature flowers toward a certain direction is often the result.[288]

Petroleum does not originate from dinosaurs but rather bacteria and algae.[308]

No human genome (nor any mammalian genome for that matter) has ever been completely sequenced. As of 2017, by some estimates, between 4% to 9% of the human genome had not been sequenced.[311]

Trickle-down theory of economics does not work.[325]

Waking sleepwalkers does not harm them. While it is true that a person may be confused or disoriented for a short time after awakening, this does not cause them further harm. In contrast, sleepwalkers may injure themselves if they trip over objects or lose their balance while sleepwalking.[332]

Stretching before or after exercise does not reduce muscle soreness.[338]

Exercise-induced muscle soreness is not caused by lactic acid buildup.[339] Muscular lactic acid levels during and after exercise do not correlate with soreness;[340] exercise-induced muscle soreness is thought to be due to microtrauma from an unaccustomed or strenuous exercise, against which the body adapts with repeated bouts of the same exercise.[341]

Shaving does not cause terminal hair to grow back thicker (more dense) or darker. This belief is due to hair that has never been cut having a tapered end, whereas, after cutting, the edge is blunt and therefore thicker than the tapered ends; the sharper, unworn edges make the cut hair appear thicker and feel coarser. That short hairs are less flexible than longer hairs also contributes to this effect.[355]

A person's hair and fingernails do not continue to grow after death. Rather, the skin dries and shrinks away from the bases of hairs and nails, giving the appearance of growth.[356]

Acne is mostly caused by genetics, rather than lack of hygiene, eating fatty food, or other personal habits.[360]

The order in which different types of alcoholic beverages are consumed ("Grape or grain but never the twain" and "Beer before liquor never sicker; liquor before beer in the clear") does not affect intoxication or create adverse side effects.[381]

Hand size does not predict human penis size,[385] but finger length ratio may.[386]

There is no physiological basis for the belief that having sex in the days leading up to a sporting event or contest is detrimental to performance.[390] In fact it has been suggested that sex prior to sports activity can elevate male testosterone level, which could potentially enhance performance.[391]

Glass does not flow at room temperature as a high-viscosity liquid.[442] Although glass shares some molecular properties found in liquids, glass at room temperature is an amorphous solid that only begins to flow above the glass transition temperature,[443] though the exact nature of the glass transition is not considered settled among scientists.[444] Panes of stained glass windows are often thicker at the bottom than at the top, and this has been cited as an example of the slow flow of glass over centuries. However, this unevenness is due to the window manufacturing processes used at the time.[443][444] No such distortion is observed in other glass objects, such as sculptures or optical instruments, that are of similar or even greater age.[443][444][445]

Most diamonds are not formed from highly compressed coal. More than 99 percent of diamonds ever mined have formed in the conditions of extreme heat and pressure about 140 kilometers (87 mi) below the earth's surface. Coal is formed from prehistoric plants buried much closer to the surface, and is unlikely to migrate below 3.2 kilometers (2.0 mi) through common geological processes. Most diamonds that have been dated are older than the first land plants, and are therefore older than coal. It is possible that diamonds can form from coal in subduction zones and in meteoroid impacts, but diamonds formed in this way are rare and the carbon source is more likely carbonate rocks and organic carbon in sediments, rather than coal.[446]

Although the Greek philosopher Pythagoras is most famous today for his alleged mathematical discoveries,[452][453] classical historians dispute whether he himself ever actually made any significant contributions to the field.[450][451] He cannot have been the first to discover his famous theorem, because it was known and used by the Babylonians and Indians centuries before Pythagoras,[454][455][456][457] but it is possible that he may have been the first one to introduce it to the Greeks.[458][456]

There is no scientific evidence for the existence of "photographic" memory in adults (the ability to remember images with so high a precision as to mimic a camera),[478] but some young children have eidetic memory.[479] Many people have claimed to have a photographic memory, but those people have been shown to have good memories as a result of mnemonic devices rather than a natural capacity for detailed memory encoding.[480] There are rare cases of individuals with exceptional memory, but none of them has a memory that mimics that of a camera.

[loisinherlane]

4, 15, 18!

rimi ily <3 <3 <3 <3

4. Do you outline before you start writing? If so, how far do you stray from that outline?

Sometimes! Sometimes I don’t use an outline at all, and sometimes I outline while I write. If it’s a shorter fic, I probably won’t use an outline unless I get pretty far into it and need to stop. And then I usually scribble down which scenes I plan to write. I definitely need an outline for longer fics, but I sometimes start writing first so I have a better sense of what the fic is going to feel like. How far I stray really depends on when I outline. If I outline first, I may stray for pacing or plot purposes. If I outlined in the middle, I might stray a little when I realize I want more scenes.

15. A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be? 

Ohhhh, that’s so hard. Maybe Past Tensions? I wrote it as kind of a commentary on superhero stuff, so I feel like it would translate relatively well. On the other hand, I would absolutely love to see the Single Dad Clark AU adapted. Yes, it’s not “one” fic, but it’s kind of still. one fic.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

:3c This question excites me so much. I had to skim through a few fics to decide just one, but I did it... even if it’s a long scene, so it’s under a cut. (Scene from Infinity and Apple Pie, very spoilery!)

When Brainiac took Metropolis, Kon had been in Hawaii. He couldn’t enjoy the sunshine or the waves, but he could sit there and remember how they’d felt. Some days, that was enough.

I really wanted to drive home how being a ghost feels, especially since I hadn’t addressed it much in the fic. Kon hadn’t really thought about the problems before because it hadn’t really sunk in what being dead entailed. And by this point, he’s really starting to miss being alive, seeing how little he actually gets by hanging around. But he’s still doing.

He didn’t hear a thing about Metropolis until one of the families started a ruckus.

“Mom! Mama! Metropolis is gone!” The kid on their phone yelled until their moms came rushing over. Kon could hear the video from his spot on the sand.

Gay, gay, homosexual, gay.

  “—aerial view reveals that Metropolis, home of Superman, has vanished without a trace. A clear line marks the area, through bridges and—”

Kon shot up.

  “It’s as of yet unknown whether Superman was in Metropolis at the time—”

Even if he wasn’t, Lois and Jon Samuel probably were. Kon flew to Metropolis first—or rather, where Metropolis was supposed to be. Just as the news reports had said, it was gone, leaving nothing but a sunken patch of dirt and dozens of crumbling bridges. Other heroes from neighboring cities had already sprung into action.

“Let them save everyone,” Kon hoped and turned for Smallville instead.

I’m not very good at writing action scenes, so I was hoping for a minimalist effect in describing the damage.

Kon remembered the first time he’d been in Smallville during tornado season. Ma and Pa had settled in the living room, peeking outside every so often to look at the clouds. The meteorologist had warned everyone to settle in a room without windows, a basement preferably. But they insisted.

“We’ll know when it’s time to go underground. We can’t keep an eye on it down there,” Pa had scoffed.

Tornado Alley rights! Bitches love watching tornados!

It wasn’t surprising to find them on the porch for this, the sky less green clouds of a thunderstorm and more a pink-gray haze. Unnatural but just as fascinating.

“Our boy will save the day,” Pa promised now, clutching Ma to his chest. Kon found himself filled with the urge to fly back to Gotham, find Tim, just in case—

But Kon didn’t go anywhere. He stared at the sky and waited. After all, Superman would save the day.

When the clouds receded, Pa turned to Ma and grinned. “Everything’s going to be alright now,” he promised. Then he froze. He lifted his right hand to clutch at his left arm.

“Jonathan,” Ma said. She looked up at the sky. “Clark!”

Tim had made everyone on Young Justice take first aid. Kon recognized the signs too easily. He couldn’t do a thing to change it.

So, this was where I really wanted Lara’s warning to come into effect. Like, yes, she had been warning about everything else Kon had watched. Yes, he’d had to watch his girlfriend join a cult. Yes, he’d had to see Tim try to clone him. Yes, Bart died. But I think there’s something really scary about seeing a family member in pain like this. And the difference between the Kents and the superhero world is how mundane this is. Pa has a heart attack. In canon, he dies because Clark can’t get there in time. Here, Kon has to watch, and it’s so different.

“Do you want to watch this?” Lara asked. She sat on the Kents’ porch swing, a real picture in her Kryptonian garb, all finery against cracked wood.

“Pa’s having a heart attack! I can’t just leave!” Kon snapped. “I have to be able to do something! Clark can’t hear him. He’d be here by now if—”

“Clark!” Ma wailed, a little louder.

“Kon-El. There is nothing you can do,” Lara said firmly. “Please, stop torturing yourself.”

Ma couldn’t hold Pa up by herself. They’d both slumped on the ground. Pa’s head lolled to the side. He stared at the porch, eyes squinted. “C— Conner…”

Kon’s face went white. “He—”

I know someone asked me about this, but yes, Pa sees Kon because he’s dying. :) This would be very effective in an actual comic, I think.

“You don’t have to watch,” Lara said.

“No!” Kon shouted. “I’m not letting go. Pa can’t die. I’m still here for a reason!”

“Because you refuse to—”

“That’s right. I refuse.”  Kon stood a little straighter before taking flight down the road into Smallville proper.

There was only one hospital in Smallville, and the EMTs sat outside the ambulance bay to watch the storm. Kon sunk to his knees in front of the first.

“Help me,” he begged. “Please, please hear me. We need help. At the Kent farm. Jonathan Kent had a heart attack. Please.”

“What a storm,” the first said.

“Prob’ly one of those alien attacks again. You saw that report on Metropolis, right?” The second lifted her phone and started scrolling.

“Listen to me! Please, you have to help! At the Kent farm. Please!”

The third leaned to look. “It’s back now?”

“Weird,” said the first.

“Please,” Kon said. “Please. My grandpa is dying!” He slumped forward.

“Did you hear that?”

Kon lifted his head. The second EMT had narrowed her eyes, skimming the area.

“Please,” he said more frantically, “my grandpa is dying! He’s had a heart attack. At the Kent farm! Hurry!”

“We… we have to go to the Kent farm,” the second EMT said, standing up. “Now.”

“What?” the third asked. “We haven’t gotten a call—”

“We have to go,” she said firmly.

I considered having Kon track an ambulance down on the road, but I was like, wait, how would I make it clear he’s not taking an ambulance from someone else who needed one? How would he even find an ambulance? Would Smallville have more than one? This seemed neater.

Kon let out a breath of relief and rode in the back of the ambulance all the way back to the farm. When the sirens reached the front of the house, Ma looked up and sobbed in relief.

“Help! My husband—” she yelled.

The EMTs started their work without hesitation, and Kon’s eyes watered.

“I did it,” he said.

“Did you?” Lara asked. She hummed. “Your medicine is so primitive. I hope it’s effective.”

“Don’t start that right now,” Kon snapped.

Lara tilted her head. “I’m… not. I hope you can save your grandfather’s life.”

Kon stared at her, twenty-five and never growing older, a woman with so much potential who had lost everything save the opportunity to see her son. “You never moved on,” he said.

Lara smiled. “No. I must admit that I… find enough gratification in seeing my family,” she said. “And Jonathan Kent cared for my son when I could not. I will never have enough gratitude to the people who loved him as much as I do.”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was trying to do with Lara at first. The longer I built up the “afterlife” in this world, the more I realized I didn’t have a good excuse for her to be there. After all, Bart and Kon weren’t staying dead when they moved on. They were coming back to life at the right time. I didn’t really want to answer any actual afterlife questions either, so I didn’t want to say Lara was coming back and forth just to visit Kon and help him.

Then I wrote this scene, and it hit me. Lara is watching over Clark. It’s interesting to build her character because she’s so often neglected for Jor-El. I wanted her to be a slightly awkward, clinical mind. And I really wanted to drive home her loss in comparison to the Kents. If Pa died, it would be sad, but he’s also not a young man. Anyway, this fic kind of works if you consider any Mr. Oz stories as a possibility because Jor-El isn’t even really mentioned. Lara is dead for sure. But Jor... Who knows?

Clark arrived just as the EMTs had loaded Pa into the back of the ambulance, an old flannel and jeans thrown on. “Ma, is Pa okay?”

In canon, he arrives as Superman, but he couldn’t do that here.

“They’re taking him to the hospital. But he’s— he’s—” Ma sobbed and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. “Oh, I don’t even know how they knew to be here. Praise the Lord.”

The second EMT ushered them both into the back of the ambulance. “It’s funny that you say that,” she said. “I… I could have sworn I heard a boy yelling. ‘My grandpa had a heart attack. On the Kent farm. Please help!’ Something like that.”

Clark and Ma exchanged looks.

“Jon Samuel is—”

“In Metropolis, with Lois,” Clark said. “No, he’s not— He couldn’t have—”

The best/worst part of writing is trying to use as few words to say something as possible. Clark and Ma know something is up, but they don’t know how to address it. They know it’s not Jon. But also, how could it be anyone else? Especially considering the complicated familial relationships Kon has, it was fun to try to put together the right words.

Lara held out her hand for Kon. This time, he took it.

[heckofabecca]

some headcanons for morwen steelsheen’s daughters

l-r, oldest-younger, Morneth, Cynwise, Forodiel. (WIP. Not pictured: Théodwyn.)

1. Morneth, b. winter 2953.

Stern, book-smart, and patient.

Morneth, like her mother, has black hair that she likes to leave unbound before she marries. (Her mother is scandalized—Gondorian girls bind their hair from childhood.) She also has her mother’s gray eyes.

She takes easily to reading and inhales the written word.

Her handwriting is fantastic, and she’s a good harpist.

From age twelve, she serves as a scribe for her mother and Morwen’s Gondorian ladies-in-waiting for non-private matters.

Her harp skills stem more from patient practice than innate talent.

Morneth is a middling fighter and poor bookkeeper—when she eventually marries a lord from Lossarnach, she has a kinswoman to help manage her household, and she never picks up a sword again.

Morneth is only a few months older than Elfhild, Théoden’s wife. She has little in common with Elfhild, but she appreciates how Elfhild listens closely whenever Morneth is explaining something. During the spring of Théoden’s courtship, Elfhild and Morneth practice harps together.

Elfhild and Théoden marry in 2977. Morneth and Elfhild become closer over the following year, but Elfhild dies in childbirth while Morneth is in the room.

Elfhild’s death brings Théoden and Morneth closer than they had ever been. The relationship she has with him in the next few years is the closest she ever is with a sibling.

Morneth dotes on baby Théodred, but as he’s given to a nurse, she soon longs for her own child.

Morneth marries in 2980 at 27, just a few months before her father dies.

She leaves for Gondor and rarely returns. She (and Morwen) return when Théodwyn dies in 3002, which is the only time she meets Éomer and Éowyn as children, and for Théoden’s funeral in 3019.

She and Théoden exchange letters a few times a year until the war—and Théoden’s health—make it difficult.

In Lossarnach, her interests are limited to her three children (two sons and a much-longed-for daughter, Lassil), her nearby relatives, and her library.

Unfortunately, Morneth never achieves a truly close relationship with Lassil, who’s too sociable to enjoy being holed up in a study like Morneth is.

When her second son is grown, he becomes Morneth’s true favorite.

At her husband’s urging, she takes an interest in local education.

Lothíriel of Dol Amroth visits Morneth and Morwen in Lossarnach in 3015 and helps in one of Morneth’s schools for an afternoon. She is deeply struck by the experience, and later bases her efforts to educate the people of Rohan on Morneth’s work in Lossarnach. (Lothíriel’s efforts in Rohan are less successful—she is seen as colonizing and southernizing the Mark—but useful for those who seek it out.)

After Théodwyn is married in 3890, Morwen returns to Lossarnach and eventually settles into Morneth’s household. She joins Morneth on a final voyage to Rohan after Théodwyn dies in 3002.

As the years grow darker under the shadow of Mordor, it is Morwen, not Morneth, who writes to Théoden to encourage him to join with Gondor.

Morneth is little bothered by war and politics; Morwen is far more politically astute.

After the war, Morneth travels north to Rohan for Théoden’s burial. She stays a short time and returns to Lossarnach.

Her wedding gift to Éowyn in 3020 is a set of books about Gondor.

2. Cynwise, b. spring 2955.

A sharp tongue, a passionate temper, and a snarky sense of humor.

Cynwise has brown hair, gray eyes, and a heart-shaped face. She’s the most comely of her sisters, but her face lights up in the best way.

She is the best shieldmaiden among her sisters, though like Morneth she prefers reading.

She marries Théoden’s lieutenant Egric at 26 in 2981, but he is killed by orcs a year later. As a childless widow, she returns to her father’s house.

Cynwise stays in Meduseld until her youngest sister Théodwyn marries Éomund in 2990. At 35, she moves with 27-year-old Théodwyn to Aldburg, where she becomes fluent in Rohirric, becomes lovers with Éomund’s widowed sister Effe, and teaches her niece and nephew to read and write.

At Thengel’s court, Westron was used more than the language of the Mark. Only Théoden gains fluency in the Mark’s native language before coming of age, and Morneth never really learns it at all.

Cynwise is bisexual. She loved her husband and mourned him; she loves Effe and hopes to never mourn her.

More notably, Cynwise teaches Éowyn to fight.

After the deaths of her sister and brother-in-law in 3002, Cynwise, 47, Cynwise brings Éomer and Éowyn to Meduseld and stays for some months before returning to Aldburg and Effe. They keep house in Aldburg, finish raising Effe’s two sons, and wait for Éomer to reclaim his seat.

Both of Effe’s sons are of age within five years. The elder joins the éored that will one day be Éomer’s command; the younger works overseeing Aldburg’s herd and training young horses.

Effe had three other children, but they all died in the cradle.

Cynwise spends three years in Meduseld (3014-3017, ages 59-62) to tend to her ailing brother before she is driven out by Gríma Wormtongue, who publicly exposes her relationship with Effe. Their relationship was a badly-kept secret in Aldburg, but once out, had to be addressed.

Cynwise is not very patient with her brother. She’s a poor nurse at the best of times, and to watch a brother she admired become so frail is more than she can bear. Not to mention Gríma, who becomes bolder during her stay.

While in Edoras, Cynwise becomes close with her nephew Théodred, who has a secret love of his own. When Théodred dies two years after Cynwise’s expulsion from Edoras, Cynwise goes into full mourning, which is normally reserved for parents and children.

With Cynwise’s forced departure, Éowyn, 22, must now bear the brunt of Gríma’s emotional abuse essentially alone.

After the War of the Ring, Cynwise, 64, stands in for Éowyn’s mother during the wedding preparations and ceremony. During Faramir’s long stay in Edoras after Théoden’s burial, he and Cynwise talk at length about Théodred and Boromir. (It’s not a subject Éomer is comfortable with.)

Despite having no children, despite her relationship with Effe, despite her temper, it is Cynwise who proves the most dutiful of her sisters where the Riddermark is concerned. She is the most involved in the Mark’s politics, provides useful council in Edoras and Aldburg, and is the only sister to tend to her ailing brother.

3. Forodiel, b. autumn 2961.

Sharp-tongued, perceptive, creative, and bipolar.

“Daughter of the North.” Forodiel is the first of Morwen’s daughters to have her father’s yellow hair and blue eyes. Like Morneth, she has a long nose, and like Cynwise, a heart-shaped face. The shortest, slightest, and most beautiful of the sisters.

She’s aware of her beauty, and she can be vain.

She’s a difficult child, and can be a difficult adult. As a girl, she had few lasting friends, and as a young woman, few suitors who persisted for reasons beyond her beauty and position. But she’s a fundamentally good person who generally means well, even if her “meaning well” often goes beyond a scope most people could manage.

Forodiel reads slowly—she’s dyslexic. Other than that, she works quickly when not in a slump, so she dislikes reading as a rule.

However, she’s a gifted archer. Women’s archery contests are common festival events during her youth, and she excels. At ten, she shot an apple out of Cynwise’s hands during a summer picnic, which got her a beating.

Forodiel and Cynwise do not get on. They’re both sharp-tongued, and Forodiel would constantly get underfoot as a girl. Plus, they competed for Théodwyn’s attention. By the time Cynwise is 16 and Forodiel is 10… well.

She’s also a good singer and harpist. When she hears a song or chant that she likes, she learns it quickly.

Unlike Morneth, she has a natural gift for both singing and the harp. She wouldn’t have had the patience to persist at it if she wasn’t a talented (and quick) learner to begin with.

Swidhelm, her eventual husband, was born the same year and is bipolar himself. He’s the grandson of a lord from the West-enmet; his visits to Edoras are almost always short, but he recognizes Forodiel as a kindred spirit. However, he manages to get himself a post in Edoras in 2987. Forodiel falls in love with him quickly.

Still, she refuses him multiple times between 2987-2988 before she’s convinced he knows exactly what he’s getting into. Forodiel is privately uncomfortably aware of how difficult she can be by the time she’s of age.

Théoden is not happy that a sister of his—his most beautiful sister! a real beauty!—should want to marry the second son of a second son. Nor is Morwen, for that matter. Still, when Swidhelm asks permission, Théoden agrees on the spot without consulting his mother, which Morwen resents.

The crux of the matter for Théoden: Forodiel’s unwillingness to marry any of her more suitable suitors left Théoden in an awkward position with more than one of the Mark’s best men. Having her settled far from Edoras makes her less of a sore subject.

Forodiel and Swidhelm marry in Meduseld in April, 2989. They remove to the West-enmet in May.

Forodiel’s grandfather-in-law, the lord, is alive for two years after her marriage. He’s extremely fond of Forodiel and calls her the jewel of the West-enmet. At his death, he bequeaths a parcel of land to Swidhelm close to Fangorn, where Forodiel oversees the restoration of a ruined tower-house with alarming competency.

This somewhat reconciles Théoden to the marriage: Forodiel’s children will now have a home of their own, one that befits the children of a princess.

Forodiel has six children.

A son (Aeldun, b. 2990) and daughter (Aethelfled, b. 2992) both die as children from a plague in 2997 while visiting their lordly uncle. No one in Forodiel’s family ever met them.

Her twin sons Oswald and Ethelwold (b. 2994) meet their mother’s family in 3002 after their aunt Théodwyn dies. They die in skirmishes: Oswald in 3016 and Ethelwold in 3018.

The youngest children, Thengel (b. 2999) and Aelfrith (b. 3001), are too young to truly fight in the war. Still, Thengel takes an active part in the ongoing struggles against orcs and hill-men sent from Isengard to weaken the West-enmet’s defences. Both children fight alongside their parents when their keep is under direct attack in early 3019. Aelfrith loses an ear in the fight.

After the war, Forodiel, 58, and Swidhelm travel to Edoras for Théoden’s funeral. Forodiel is privately satisfied to think that she was more beautiful than Éowyn at 24; Swidhelm teases her about it, but concedes that she’s right.

Once home, Forodiel and Swidhelm work closely with Swidhelm’s second cousin, the new lord, to manage rebuilding the West-enmet. Forodiel’s skills are praised, and her advice is sought by others around the Mark.

4. Théodwyn, b. summer 2963.

Gentle (no one knows where she got that from), clever, and generally cheerful, but prone to depression.

Théodwyn has gold hair and gray eyes. Like her mother, she’s tall.The most beloved of all the girls—beloved by her father, her brother, and all three sisters. She was a happy, shy baby, more lovely as a young child than even Forodiel. Despite the favor she has, she’s rarely haughty.

Théodwyn doesn’t really understand Morneth, and Forodiel scared her too often as children for Théodwyn to be fully comfortable with her. Her favorite sister is Cynwise.

Théodwyn is a slow reader—she has a slower processing speed than the rest of her sisters.

She has a beautiful voice, though it takes her a long time to memorize a song.

After Cynwise’s husband dies in 2981, Théodwyn becomes closer with her than ever.

Her voice and smile captured Éomund’s heart more than anything else.

They have a short courtship. They meet properly and marry in 2990.She’s clever and gentle enough to calm much of his anger in far less time—and with far less shouting—than others would take. It doesn’t take too long for him to realize how well she manages him once they’re married. After that, he’s even happier about his choice.

Théodwyn is hugely relieved when Cynwise agrees to come to Aldburg. She’s less pleased when she finds out some months later that Cynwise and her new sister-in-law have become lovers, but she agrees not to tell her husband unless he explicitly asks.

Éomund’s duties as Third Marshall take him from home often, and Cynwise and Effe are discreet enough to evade notice while Éomund is alive.

Théodwyn is reluctant to let Cynwise teach Éowyn to fight, but Éomund rightly points out that Cynwise is the best fighting woman in Aldburg.

In time, Théodwyn accepts Cynwise and Effe’s relationship.

Of all the sisters, Théodwyn has the “best” marriage. She’s married to one of the highest lords in the land, and she’s the only sister who hosts Théoden in her married home. However, Éomund’s long period away from home make it less happy than Forodiel’s marriage and far less blissful than what Cynwise and Effe have.

When Éomund is away, Théodwyn is far less cheerful than when he’s at home. Cynwise and Effe go to often great lengths to keep her active and involved.

When Théodwyn is dying, she asks Cynwise and Effe to raise her children. Instead, Théoden brings them into his household to raise as his own.

Cynwise brings Éomer and Éowyn to Edoras when summoned, where she tells Théoden of Théodwyn’s wish. Théoden tells Cynwise that she can stay in Meduseld to assist, but that the children will be far better for growing up in Edoras. Cynwise longs to argue, but she can’t bear the thought of leaving Effe, even for her niece and nephew. It’s a decision Cynwise grapples with for the rest of her brother’s life, particularly during the years she spends nursing Théoden before the War of the Ring and seeing how Éowyn and Éomer are still scarred by their parents’ deaths.

Théodwyn’s death in 3002 prompts a Meduseld family reunion of sorts, one that is never repeated. Théoden (54) and Théodred (24) receive Éomer (11), Éowyn (7), and Cynwise (47) from Aldburg; Forodiel (40) and her twin sons Oswald and Ethelwold (8); and Morwen (80) and Morneth (49) from Lossarnach.

Forodiel takes an instant liking to pretty Éowyn, and her sons, like Éomer, latch onto Théodred.

Morneth and Théoden take early rides together whenever he can manage it.

Morwen checks that the scribe she left in charge of Meduseld’s library has kept things up to standard. She tells stories to the gathered grandchildren, and even Théodred listens, if only to hear the melody of her voice.

Forodiel and Morwen talk about losing their children. Cynwise and Forodiel make peace.

At night, Éomer and Éowyn sneak into Cynwise’s bed. She holds them tight and tries not to let them feel her crying.

[purplesurveys]

1018

When was the last time you were in pain? Did you take a painkiller? Last Saturday when I stubbed my toe and it made my nailbed bleed. Nah, I just dabbed tissue on it and covered it up a Band-Aid. It didn’t really need one, but I placed one anyway so that I didn’t have to see the cut.

What was the last question that someone else asked you? I was showing my mom some photos of the typhoon’s aftermath in our city and she was asking me where exactly one of the photos was taken. It’s honestly so bad over here rn and I feel kinda guilty for taking surveys when so much of the city still has chest-deep flood...but this is the one thing keeping me from going insane while we still don’t have electricity and internet at home, so.

Do you recall what you were doing last time 7pm came around? Wrapping up work, watching the newest episode of Good Mythical Morning, and was also probably looking for a survey to answer.

What was the last thing you consumed, that tasted sweet? Churros with chocolate dip.

Do you know who Mr Blobby is, or have you ever heard of him? I have never heard of it. Them? Him?

Have you ever befriended someone named Tom? What is/was he like? I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of a Tom where I live. I know Tims though, lol.

Does your father have any hobbies? What are they? He loves cars and motorcycles, and I also always catch him watching compilations of dumb vehicular accidents. He’s also into the latest gadgets and I know he’s been wanting a drone for ages now.

Name a food you enjoy, that starts with the same letter as your surname. Curry. :)

What did the last face mask you wore look like? I always wear those thin plain blue disposable ones because they are light and breathable. < Yeah, same. My mom buys boxes of these all the time so this kind is my only choice, really. I never minded it though.

Do you enjoy any songs by The Pet Shop Boys? The name is familiar and I probably know one or two songs of theirs that I enjoy, but I just can’t place any at the moment.

Is there a specific song that you always request at parties? What is it? Eh, not really. I let other people take over the music. Sometimes my friends will request Paramore for me hehehehe and it’s always nice when everyone ends up enjoying whatever song by them is played. But I’m personally often too shy myself to do the requesting because I’m scared it’ll turn out to be a flop. 

Have you ever read 'The Railway Children?' Did you like it? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.

What was the last thing someone said or did, that made you chuckle? So we have a card game at home wherein each card has a certain category and the game is simply a race to come up with an example under that category. So for example if the game master pulls out a card that says ‘fruit,’ you wanna be the first person to yell apple or orange or something. Anyway, my family pulled it out again because of the current power outage, and while we were playing earlier my mom excitedly yelled “CEREAL” when the category was “breakfast cereal.” All of us died laughing.

Have you ever met anyone named Joyce? What is/was she like? I know multiple people whose second name is Joyce, but I dunno anyone who has that as their main name or preferred nickname.

Who was the last relative you visited? My grandma. Needed to pick up the box of revel bars that my uncle had made for my mom.

Does anyone close to you have blue eyes? Nah, especially not in this part of the world. Who was the last person you messaged on social media? Andrew. He was simply checking up on me because our city is one of the hardest-hit areas of the typhoon so far.

^ Do you know when their birthday is? June or July 20something...I can’t remember at the moment.

Is there anyone you love, whose name starts with H? Hmm Hannah is a good friend of mine, and I guess I can say I love her, sure.

Do you own a hairdryer? What color is it? Yeah, pink. I’ve since given it to my sister since she needed a hairdryer in her dorm, but it was originally a gift for me.

What CDs do you have in your car, if any? I don’t keep CDs in my car anymore. If I wanted to listen to my music, I just link my Spotify to the stereo via Bluetooth.

One hour from now, what time will it be? 4:35 PM.

{found @ pinkchocolate}

--

When you woke up today, did you find unread messages from anyone? Yeah, because I still talk to my ex like a dumbass. Did the last message you received contain any emojis? No, Angela didn’t use any. Have you recently told anyone that you miss them? Yeah, I said it to Hans today because he messaged me for the first time since my birthday this year. Are you wearing a scrunchie in your hair today? What color? Not right now. I used my hairtie to tie up the bag of chips I wasn’t able to finish earlier, so unless I finish that up soon I won’t be able to tie my hair up in a ponytail for a while haha. Have you sent or received any friend requests on Facebook lately? Yuh, the people I interned with - Angel, Justine, and Bianca - added me on there recently. My cousin Maggie also made an account and added me. Can you recall the last time you turned down an offer, of any kind? My mom offered me the last churro earlier because she knows I love them, but I didn’t feel like eating anymore so I let her have it. What was the last film that you saw for the first time? I’m Thinking of Ending Things. ^ Did you enjoy it? I had a hard time with it, especially with the last 20 or so minutes; and it was the first time I found myself struggling with a Charlie Kaufman work. I wouldn’t say I didn’t enjoy it, though. I guess I just found it a little too complex, and films that make me THINK think are generally a hit-or-miss for me. Which swear word did you utter most recently? Probably fuck or a local swear word. ^ Was it because you were annoyed in some way? A little bit, yeah. My phone’s adapter was missing for a few moments. Do you ever find the smell of your pets’ food unpleasant? No. We feed them the same things we eat, so it would be kind of odd to call that unpleasant. When was the last time you reheated leftovers? Tuesday. It was a burger I failed to finish over the weekend. What was the last thing you ate, that was from a bakery? Can’t even remember the last time we ordered from a bakeshop...a pandesal is my best guess, but I can barely remember the last time I had one of those. Which fruit would you say you eat the most often? Haaaaaaaaaaaa. Is there a lake close to where you live? Nope. There’s a river, though. What was the last song you recall singing along to? Broken-Hearted Girl by Beyoncé. Have you uploaded any photos to social media today? Of what? No. Literally everyone has been posting photos of their flooded houses and neighborhoods all day, and it’d be insensitive to post pics of my otherwise (fortunately) normal and relatively unaffected neighborhood or some other type of photo. Are you in the process of reading a book? Which one? Nope.  ^ Are you enjoying it? - How recently did you charge the battery on your mobile phone? This morning, but I had to charge from my car because no electricity. I have to do it again, actually – my phone’s barely hanging on at 9%. Is there anyone you interact with every day, on social media? Yeah, my co-workers. In my new job, I’ll have to communicate with Ysa, Bea, and Steffi the most as I was placed in their team. What do you typically do to unwind at the end of the day? Watching the new episode of Good Mythical Morning and GMMore. Sometimes I’ll watch some wrestling too.

{found @ pinkchocolate}

--

Has anything fallen out of your pocket at any time recently? My vape pen. Luckily I was in my room because I would’ve been a dead daughter if it fell out in front of my parents. Do you have any books that you plan to read sometime soon? Yeah. I plan to resume Midnight Sun one of these days. It’s just a little hard at the moment because I first got it and read it during a rough phase two months ago...opening the book just brings back the memories. It’ll be a while before I’m able to dissociate from those thoughts and enjoy the book. Did anything disturb your sleep at all last night? Yes, the typhoon. The wind was loud enough to wake me up. The electricity also went out a little after midnight, so that also made it hard to fall back asleep. What kind(s) of Facebook groups are you active in, if any? Too many, but I deactivated Facebook again so it doesn’t matter. Do you enjoy any films with Judi Dench in them? Which ones? I respect her contributions as an actress but I’m generally not a fan of the films in her repertoire, so I haven’t seen any of them. I do remember wanting to check out The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, but I just never got around to it. Do you enjoy any herbal or fruit teas? What kinds? No, I don’t like tea. Are you currently wearing anything grey? Yeah, my current shirt is gray. Nice timing :) Name any object in your household that is purple. The pen on my work desk is purple. I also have a purple highlighter that I used while still in college. What was the last food item that you used your hands to eat? Churros. Have you seen anyone today that you consider to be attractive? Nope, I’ve only seen my family and even though I wouldn’t call them ugly, I don’t find them attractive in ~that way either. Do you recall what you were doing at 9:30 this morning? Trying to take a survey before realizing I wouldn’t be able to finish it because I felt a breakdown coming through. Do you use a moisturizer? What brand? No. My skin doesn’t really require lots of maintenance, so I’ve left it be for the most part. Do you currently own or use any toiletries with a fruity scent? I don’t think so. My shampoo has that original scent that just smells like...shampoo, I guess, my conditioner smells like milk, and my toothpaste is minty rather than fruity. Does anyone close to you have a beard? Dad, but he shaves it off all the time. The last time you were in your kitchen, what task(s) did you carry out? I made myself coffee. Name some pop groups that you loved as a child. Wasn’t into any as a child, but as a teenager I liked One Direction. Ok fine, as an adult too heheh Do you recall the first CD you ever owned? The High School Musical soundtrack lol Have you ever worked with anyone named Sophie? What was she like? I went to school with multiple Sophies but I never had to work with them. What terms of endearment do you mostly use when speaking to others? I use “b” or “bb” with nearly everyone, as long as it’s appropriate. Is anyone in your family currently pregnant? No. I used to think I was next, but I think I’ll be waiting a lot longer now. I don’t even know if it would still happen to me...which is sad, because I’ve always wanted a kid of my own. Do you have any specific plans for this weekend? If the typhoon subsides by this week I’ll be expecting my cross-stitch kit that I ordered online, and I can’t wait to start learning all weekend. {found @ pinkchocolate}

[mightydragoon]

Danny Phantom Humourous Fics: Part 1

For when you had a good cry recently and you want to laugh at the world. I got you covered

mixture of FF and Ao3 fics, many of which are one shots.  Well for the first part mostly if not all FF fics. 

1. Dead, Really By: The Green Pilgrim 

It's hard getting through the funeral of a loved one... especially when he's whispering rude comments in your ear.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3008384/1/Dead-Really

2.  Trick!  By: Firefury Amahira 

An unlikely alliance is formed on Halloween... against Mr. Lancer!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3190395/1/Trick

3.  Sweet Revenge: Friday, October 13th By: Chaos Dragon

Who would have guessed that Friday the thirteenth was a holiday in the Ghost Zone? And that the favorite past time on said holiday was pranking the local halfa? Or that the day from hell would have such a sweet ending? 1 of 12 HftH Arc DxS

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3211264/1/Sweet-Revenge-Friday-October-13th

4.  Terrible Twos By: angelofsuspense 

Danny gets turned into a 2-year-old and his enemies start attacking thinking he's weak. Over time though they start to wonder: what's worse? The new annoying and hyper Danny Phantom, or the fact that they still can't beat him?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2811846/1/Terrible-Twos

(note this one is a classic and I highly reccomend) 

5. Clock's day By: Preemtive Karma 

Every 1461 days the ghosts have a chance to pay homage to the master of time. Danny learns of this tradition, and decides to pay a visit himself.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5368088/1/Clock-s-day

6.  15 Things To Do At WalMart By: VampireApple 

Danny, Sam and Tucker decide to have some fun at WalMart. Slight DS fluff. COMPLETE! At long last.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/3005901/1/15-Things-To-Do-At-WalMart

7.  How to Piss Off Danny Fenton By: libraluvr

"I don't have to know you well to know how to piss you off."- Dash is trying to piss Danny off. Can Danny take it? Or will he snap?

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7318303/1/How-to-Piss-Off-Danny-Fenton

(note sequel below)

8  How to Avoid Getting Suspended By: libraluvr 

Dash has decided he can't possibly let Danny get away with beating him up? Will he manage to get Danny kicked out of school? -Sequel to How to Piss Off Danny Fenton

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7328315/1/How-to-Avoid-Getting-Suspended

9. Ghost Zone Experience By: Dream Trance 

"I'm a weatherman, not a—Good afternoon, Amity Park! This is Lance Thunder bringing you live to what looks like a ghostly tug-a-war with our own town hero, Danny Phantom, as both the rope and opposition. Anything you'd like to add, Mr. Phantom?"

 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5491874/1/Ghost-Zone-Experience

(another gem, sadly incomplete, still so much fun) 

10. Apples Keep the Ghosts Away By: Dream Trance 

Collection of light-hearted one-shots in response to Arietta Fenton-Phantom's challenge. Read and have fun! Disappearing Act: A field trip gone wrong leads to an unplanned journey through the Ghost Zone for Casper High students and teachers.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7084991/1/Apples-Keep-the-Ghosts-Away

11.  Ethos, Pathos, and Logos By: PhantomInvader 

Sometimes even a relatively normal day in Danny Fenton's life can be amusing and eventful by itself. Yes, even during Mr. Lancer's class. Oneshot collection. Now: Lancer assigns partners for a project: learn 10 things about each other, and present them.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4902950/1/Ethos-Pathos-and-Logos

12. 83 Ways to Get Detention 

By:

LimeGreenNinja96

 Casper High is getting dull. Luckily Tucker has an idea to change that. What will happen when our favorite trio schemes up 83 plots to get in detention? Hilarity will ensue.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6756295/1/83-Ways-to-Get-Detention

(Note* been a while since I read this one, I have no idea how it holds up now)

13.  School?  By: Lady Rae of Ravenclaw  

When a social serves's nutjob yanks Danny and Danielle PHANTOM of the streets, telling them they have no choice but to attend school, only chaos will ensue. SEQUEL IS UP AND IS CALLED 'Living Life Because I'm Alive!

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7408847/1/School

14.  Living Life Because I'm Alive By: Lady Rae of Ravenclaw 

Danielle's lair has been ruined, and after a nerve-wrecking attempt at getting her a home to stay in, her life takes a winding path of friends, family, adventure and love. - Sequel to story 'School' not needed to enjoy story. Contains twp OC's important to the plot and two stories take place during it that will be written separate. DanixOC minor DxS, TxJ and ValxOC.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8880965/1/Living-Life-Because-I-m-Alive

(Note* Similar to this one and sequel to the one above)

15.  Where The Body Lays  By: Clockwork's Apprentice 

AU- Phantom is literally Danny's disembodied spirit and when he 'goes ghost', his body just falls limp- not even breathing. As a result, he not only has a reputation for 'sleeping' in class but Tucker and Sam have to hide his body from everyone when he's ghost fighting but what happens when they're gone and Lancer tries to wake up Danny only to find that he's not breathing.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10179538/1/Where-The-Body-Lays

(words can’t describe my love  for this one shot) 

16. Karma has a Sense of Humor By: Vitaliciouscreations

Danny comforts Mikey, Nathan, and Lester after a group beating because of the football team, and later, proves that his words weren't just to cheer them up.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10614601/1/Karma-has-a-Sense-of-Humor

17.  Bayard  By: sapphireswimming 

The ghost just didn't know who he was messing with when he floated into Lancer's classroom.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10646799/1/Bayard

18.  Mister Popular By: ploThief 

To say Danny knows people is an understatement. To say that would come back to bite him is an understatement as well. Featuring the Secret Trio and a surprise group

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10711299/1/Mister-Popular

19.  Phantom Radio By: Clockwork's Apprentice 

AU- The Phantom siblings, Danny and Dani, were the ones that started their own Radio Show. The other residents of the Ghost Zone quickly made their radio show the most popular and well-known throughout the Zone.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10844977/1/Phantom-Radio

( Note* another fantastic fic by  Clockwork's Apprentice)

20.  Reaping Roads By: Clockwork's Apprentice 

AU. When Sam died, she didn't expect the reaper escorting her to the afterlife to be so cute. Good thing the road to the afterlife is so long.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10854284/1/Reaping-Roads

21.  Not True, Yes it is! By: QueenofHearts7378 

"So what are they trying to prove?", "With them? Who knows.", "Well whatever they're doing, someone will probably have to go get the nurse." [One-Shot]

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11110314/1/Not-True-Yes-it-is

(note*  QueenofHearts7378 is also a very prominent Secret Quartet writer so if you’re interested in that give her a try) 

22.  Suit Yourself! By: mabel-but-slytherin 

Grunkle Stan has to get his suits from somewhere! Upon discovering that Stan steals all of his suits from the same poor rich guy, Mabel swears she'll make the latest stolen suit his own. Phantomfalls ensues.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11325513/1/Suit-Yourself

(Note* this is so dumb but I love it to bits

[a-cai-jpg]

this is a very stilted post.

I have a collection of songs that make me cry.

I'm not in the habit of playing them very often. I don't even save them in my YouTube favorites, or my wormhole of a Spotify account. I kind of leave it up to fate for the familiar melody and lyrics to find me again, and on days where I feel especially brave, I'll queue it up on a drive. But only on a drive.

I watched a variety show about songwriters a few months back, and one of my favorite contestants said something along the lines of, "I think everyone has a theme that they just can't touch."

Sometimes, it's because the pain is still too raw. Sometimes, it's because we're too fearful to truly reckon with the sorrow, unwilling to drink it in, let it roll around in our mouths as the bitter flavor penetrates our tongue, and feel it burn on the way down.

I don't listen to the songs often because I'm afraid I'll become desensitized, that the most humane and most compassionate part of me will become numb.

But also because I'm not in the business of seeking out pain.

I used to be obsessed with tragedy, chasing it with a sort of masochistic relish because I thought you could never be as human as you were when you cried. It's kind of like why people really like those sad, touching Thai commercials that make you bawl your eyes out without fail every time.

But as I grew older, I realized there really is something that I can't touch. Sometimes, I tongue the edges of it, prodding with caution, but only on very, very rare occasions do I peel away the protective layer. There are some things I can't watch, can't listen to too closely, or else I'll feel myself unravel around the edges.

And not gonna lie, but now is not a time I'm willing to tug at the ends of the thread. So instead, I'll let a past me do that.

When I was a sophomore in university, I submitted a monologue for the annual Asian cultural show. It was submitted anonymously, because at the time, it wasn't something I was ready to talk about.

(it still isn't, but i have gotten more practice talking about it in the years that have elapsed.)

See, what had happened was, I was watching Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo (disappointment of my life, sorry the Chinese version is better even though the Korean cast is bEaUtIfUl), and suddenly, I had a mini-panic attack about death.

It was the dumbest thing. I was watching Park Soondeok try to woo Wang Eun, and the silly girl--bless her heart--hunted a whole bear to express her love for him. I remember the scene had startled me, because she popped on screen with a bear skin covering her body. And I was like, "Uh that's like, a lot of bad karma right."

And I don't really know how karma works, but I suddenly remembered something that my grandmother had said a long time ago. She said that she was a sinner, because she's "killed" so much for our family.

In Chinese, the words she used were 杀生, which literally means "kill life" but generally, animal life.

She said it because she is the main chef of our family. Whenever she visited China, our family would go through a bit of crisis because that meant either my grandfather cooked or my mom's boyfriend cooked.

Once, my grandfather served me Palmier cookies and the same fried rice we'd eaten for a week for dinner. Often, my mom's boyfriend chopped up carrots and celery to dip with ranch for dinner.

It was great.

(no, but our family barely functioned when my grandmother was gone. those six months would be us sitting silently around the dinner table, daring each other to be the first to try a dish.)

Weirdly, that little thing she said stuck with me. And in that moment, sophomore year of college, sitting in my top bunk watching Scarlet Heart Ryeo, I panicked.

I can't really dissect why I panicked. But the result was this ridiculous plan that I had to stop eating meat for the rest of my life to collect all the good karma for my grandmother.

(yeah, so that didn't last because I literally got sausages that weekend cus hello, continental breakfast.)

It wasn't that I never thought about death or my family members dying before then. In the second grade, I read a story about the friendship between a squirrel and a leaf, and cried and cried and cried when the story ended and the leaf died, not because the leaf died but because the leaf promised to be reborn, and would be reborn at the turn of the year, but humans wouldn't be.

But for some reason, all of the separate moments of panic and fear dispersed over a decade culminated in that moment, as I watched Soodeok pull the bearskin off of her head, and I started crying so hard I couldn't breathe.

So I wrote a monologue. The original draft was very, very long and very, very detailed, and I probably went through half a box of tissues writing it. I eventually cut it down and didn't save the first copy because I never wanted to read it again.

The theme of the monologue comes up every time I talk about my Chinese American identity. It comes up in personal statements, in creative narratives, in discussion groups, and in the Facebook likes I dish out whenever I see a relevant Subtle Asian Traits post. It's the sense of biculturalism and the accompanying endeavor to somehow reconcile my reality with that of my immigrant parents and grandparents. It's the weary acceptance that ultimately, there may be no reconciliation, and all that's left is regret.

Whenever someone asks me what my favorite food is, I would say spring onion noodles. But this is the funny part--I will never order them in a restaurant. Some time in middle school, I went on a family trip with my extended relatives in China. Every time we stopped to eat, my aunt would order me a bowl of spring onion noodles because she knew I loved it so much, and every time, I would make a face and say, "Grandma does it better."

See, I don't know if she actually does. I just knew I liked hers more.

After my grandmother returned to China, I started making spring onion noodles myself, because it tasted more like home even if I never got it right.

I also really like dumplings. My grandma makes the best dumplings, but I'm afraid to ask her to make them, because the last time I did, they were too salty. Now, I'm afraid to ask her to make spring onion noodles too, because maybe my memories tasted better than the real thing.

But the real, real reason I'm scared is that I'm scared she's getting old. I'm scared her tastebuds are not the same as they were when she lived in Monterey Park, cooking in our second floor kitchen.

In my senior year of college, I called my grandmother for the first time on my own. The moment I heard her voice, staticky over the long distance call, I started crying, and it was stupid because I had to pretend I wasn't crying and I was trying to talk normally and it was awful because it was the kind where your voice came in hiccupy stutters, and she definitely knew I was crying because she kept asking, "Why did you call? What's wrong?" while acting casual, for my sake.

When I was in the eighth grade, I was walking a friend's German Shepherd that ended up dragging me across the pavement in the park. It's a story I tell a lot, because it is truly hilarious in hindsight, but the ending goes like this:

I go home crying, because my glasses broke and I have cuts on the back of my left hand and down my face. I take a bath, something I grew out of doing years ago, and my grandmother doesn't reprimand me. She sits next to me and speaks in that vaguely disapproving voice of her, the tone of so many old Asian ladies, and tells me that life is hard and you will meet people that you don't get along with, but you just have to suck it up. And I start crying harder, because she cared.

That day, she also followed me from the front door of our house to my mom's master bathroom, asking, "What's wrong?"

We talk a lot about the Chinese zodiac in our household, more when my grandmother and grandfather still lived with us, but my aunt brought it up a few days ago. In the Chinese zodiac, the ox and the sheep are foils to each other--me and my grandmother. When I was little, I would say, "Ugh, this is why we fight so often." A few days ago, my mom said, "That's why you and grandma never got along," and I stayed silent.

I sometimes tell people that my grandmother is more like my mother figure, and my mom is more like an older sister. And my mom hates it. But, it's because everything that others associate with an Asian mom, I associate with my grandmother. All the memes about immigrant mother bringing their children peeled and cut fruit are about my grandmother, fending off my complaints about having to eat apples every single day, and stubbornly bringing me sliced apples and pears. All the stories about immigrant parents expressing their love through the words "Come eat. Food is ready," is my grandmother who singlehandedly kept her family together through sheer will and a kitchen stove.

Sometimes, when I'm brave enough to talk to people about how I feel about her, I would say that I would gladly give her half of the rest of my life, just so we can leave together. I'm scared her life would be less than perfect, and I wish I made money earlier so I can take her to Cambridge and Rome, but I'm also scared that I'm selfish and weak and unable to give her what she really wants.

Anyways.

Four tissues later, here's the monologue:

I am obsessed with time.

I am obsessed with time, but I hate the way the second hand moves relentlessly in an endless loop on the face of an old clock. I am obsessed with time, but I hate the way the mention of it tightens my throat, squeezing until the pressure travels to my heart and lungs, and finally settling somewhere deep in my gut.

I was told that time is linear. The Second Law of Thermodynamics. Chaos and disorder grow infinitely—there is no going back.

When I was little and time was but a tiny grain of sand in a large, foreboding hourglass, I believed in guardian angels. They were the ones who caught me tumbling from a swing, having flown too high on my too weak wings. They were the ones who waited outside the gates of my elementary school—a familiar face of comfort floating amidst a crowd of foreign visages. They were the ones who promised me plates and plates of hand-wrapped dumplings, and most importantly, they were the only ones who could cook spring onion noodles with a sunny side up egg the way I liked it, and no restaurant could ever hope to get the taste just the same.

But also, when I was little, I believed that guardian angels existed outside of time. They were immortal, they gave me life. But as the number of years they conferred to me increased, they seemed to become more and more human.

Sometimes, I’d blink, and for a terrifying moment, I’d catch glimpse of an elderly couple, backs hunched and hair splattered with grey, standing in my kitchen.

This is me, a girl obsessed with time. I had the liberty of being born and raised in the United States. My Chinese immigrant parents labored long days at work, and my grandparents were given the roles as my primary caretakers.

My grandfather was the quiet one, a retired electrical engineer who made it his mission to somehow teach me to love mathematics. My grandmother was the loud one, previously a librarian—the irony, I know—who never went to college but could calculate prices of groceries faster than I could pull out a calculator. I grew up dancing around their peculiar dynamic, seesawing back and forth between going ant-watching with my grandfather as I recited the Chinese timestables and trying to finish too many platters of food my grandmother piled in front of me as she told me stories of life back in China—in the good old days.

Growing up in California, it was inevitable that I saw the United States as home to both me and my family. It was where I had spent nearly two decades of my life—and where my mother, grandmother, and grandfather had spent nearly two decades of their lives.

And yet, two decades was not nearly enough time. Space could not be reconciled, and time was rendered obsolete.

Home, for them, was not our little town in the suburbs of LA. When my father passed away, my mother said, “We don’t have enough money to bring him home.” She’d said it carelessly in front of me, perhaps thinking 6-year-old me wouldn’t notice, let alone understand. But 6-year-old me did. Home, I realized, for them wasn’t home for me.

The thought was terrifying. I realized that there will come a time, when I’d return home, and it wouldn’t be the same place my mother, my grandmother, and my grandfather returned to.

I began to play with the idea of condensing time and space. How great it would be, if home was simultaneously California and China. Time differences, traveling time, the Pacific Ocean would be utterly abolished, and our hearts would return home together.

But time flew by and the pile of sand grains at the bottom of the hourglass grew without my noticing. I hadn’t yet the chance to tell my grandparents about my meditation on time and space, and suddenly, my grandfather decided to return home. Time had seemed to warp, fastforwarding the years I’d taken for granted, and now refusing to slow down.

Here’s the thing—I do not wish to be selfish. I want my family to be happy—to return home—but I am terrified that my own fragile notion of home will shatter in return.

Because the reality is, home isn’t physical space. Home is, in all truthfulness, time. Time I’d spent with my family, and the years I have left to spend with them.

I’d let time slip through my fingers as I tried to come up with this theory of “home.” I’d tried to condense “home” into a condominium, apartment D, a large peach tree shading the backyard. Yet now, the tree has been cut down, and my mother speaks of moving to a city forty minutes away. What then, I ask myself, is home?

Home is the promises I’d made to my grandparents—promises I’m no longer sure I can keep because I cannot cover large enough distances with so little time. Home is the way I could never tell them “I love you,” and the regret that builds in my heart as I realize that home is a ticking time bomb that threatens to throw the world into chaos. Entropy increases. Things fall apart.

In a little bit, home will be too many miles away, too many hours away, for me to return to. Home will be in a foreign city surrounded by a peculiar amalgamation of unfamiliar modernity and history she’d lived through. Home will be on the opposite shore of an ocean I cannot swim across, with no one to cook spring onion noodles for.

I am a girl obsessed with time. I’d been blessed with a lot of time, and yet, I’d tossed it all out of the window of my second story bedroom. I am a girl obsessed with time, and I’d trade in my soul for it to reverse, so I can make home a little more concrete, a little more happy, a little more lasting. I am a girl obsessed with time, and when I wake up 2:30 in the morning, I think I can see the sands rushing down the chute of the hourglass, and the sight of it tears me apart.

I am a girl obsessed with time, and I would like to apologize to my beloved mother, grandmother, and grandfather for taking so much of it for granted. If I had another run at these eighteen years, I only hope to reach this conclusion sooner and fulfill my promises.

Dear grandma and grandpa,

I am a girl obsessed with time. Every day, I pray to God to give you a little more. How had the time flown by so quickly? Was yesterday not the day you brought me on the airplane for the first time? I can still taste the juice of the grapes a stranger had given us—snacks for the little girl—in the back of my tongue. Yet now I’m no longer the toddler you held in your arms. Grandma and grandpa, time is rushing by on a train I cannot seem to catch. Will you forgive me for reaching our home a little too late?

Love.

(i included my favorite part in a creative narrative project i did for a class in college. if you want to hear it in my voice: here.) (pls don’t click for the sake of my voice bc i sound like a literal duck. click for my grandparents wandering around hangzhou.) (also, if it is different its cus i tried to fit it in somehow with a longer poem i was writing.) (i don’t like poems.)

The reason I wrote this isn't that I wanted to pick at a scab. I heard a song recently, from the same songwriter variety show, that I had blindsided a few months back. I heard it at around 1 am in the morning, and I cried.

Here is the collection of songs:

橘子 by 邓见超

考试考得好不好啊？ how did you do on your test? 有没有拿到大红花 did you get the big red flower? 老师夸我是个乖仔啊 my teacher said i was a good kid 奶奶自己保重圣体吧 grandma, take care of yourself 长大了 出息了 要晓得回家 when you grow older and do big things, remember to come home 别忘了这里的青山和路弯 don't forget the green mountains and windy roads here 记得要带一瓶辣椒在身上 remember to bring with you a bottle of peppers 还时常跟妈妈报平安 and often let your mom know you're doing fine ... 房子旁两棵树都被砍掉了 the two trees by our house have been cut off 墙上还贴着小时候的奖状 my childhood awards are still plastered on the walls 一个字一个字 好像昨天啊 each word, each word, like it was just yesterday 宝贝儿子啊 吃饭了 son, it's time for dinner 再不回家妈妈要教训你了 if you don't come home now, mom's going to be mad 这个淘气的孩子跑去那里玩了 this mischievous kid, where did he go? 找他都找不到人了 i'm looking for him, but i can't find him.

一荤一素 by 毛不易

一张小方桌 有一荤一素 a small, square table with one vegetable and one meat 一个身影从容地忙忙碌碌 a figure good-naturedly bustling about 一双手让这时光有了温度 a pair of hands allowed this time some warmth 太年轻的人 他总是不满足 the one who is too young, he's not satisfied 固执地不愿停下 远行的脚步 stubbornly unwillingly to stop the footsteps traveling far away 望着高高的天走了长长的路 looking at the far, far sky; walking a long, long road 忘了回头看 她有没有哭 he forgot to turn around to see if she's crying 月儿明 风儿轻 >the moon is clear, the wind is light 可是你在敲打我的窗棂 is it you, knocking on my window? 听到这儿你就别担心 now that you've listened till here, please don't worry 其实我过的还可以 actually, i'm doing okay ... 你又可曾来过我的梦里 have you been to my dreams lately? 一定是你来时太小心 you must've been too careful when you came 知道我睡得轻 knowing that i sleep lightly 一定是你来时太小心 you must've been too careful when you came 怕我再想起你 afraid i'll miss you

父亲 by 筷子兄弟

时光时光慢些吧不要再让你变老了 time, time, please slow down. don't let you grow any older 我愿用我一切换你岁月长留<<br>i'm willing to trade everything i have for more years and months for you ... 微不足道的关心收下吧 please accept my inadequate care for you 谢谢你做的一切双手撑起我们的家 thank you for holding up our family with your hands 总是竭尽所有把最好的给�� always doing everything to give me the best ... 我是你的骄傲吗还在为我而担心吗 am i your pride? do you still worry for me? 你牵挂的孩子啊长大啦 the child you think of has grown up now.

时间都去哪了 by 王铮亮 (this is a cover)

时间都去哪儿了 where has all the time gone? 还没好好感受年轻就老了 haven't even truly experienced youth, and i'm already old 生儿养女 一辈子 took care of children my entire lfe 满脑子都是孩子哭了笑了 all i can hear is the cries and laughter of children 时间都去哪儿了 where has all the time gone? 还没好好看看你眼睛就花了 haven't even looked at you carefully yet, and my vision is already blurring

if only... by ozi

如果可以把時間退後 if i can rewind time 別讓命運把妳給帶走 i won't let fate take you away 對妳能說著我最近做些什麼 i want to be able to tell you what i've been doing these days 希望別再錯過 i hope i won't miss it again 如果可以讓我跟她說 if only i can just tell her 願意付出我所有為了 i'm willing to trade everything i have 能換一點時間just to see you again for a little time just to see you again 別再擔心著我 so you don't have to worry about me anymore

[beyondspock]

DON OSTERTAG: OFF STAGE

DINNER AT THE NIMOYS’

The elder Nimoys, Dora and Max, were living in a first floor apartment in a red-bricked building in a middle-class section of Boston when I met them. It wasn’t the house where they raised their two sons, Melvin and Leonard, in. This was their retirement home they moved into after Max left his barbering trade.

It was during the second leg of Leonard’s one-man show ,VINCENT, tour. During the first leg, which ended months before, our little troupe consisted of Leonard, his wife Sandy, his dresser Erik, Dennis Babcock, who was the Special Events Coordinator for the Guthrie and the person responsible for converting the bare-bones VINCENT that Leonard brought to the Guthrie and turning it into a full-blown show and for booking the first tour in which he also served as Tour Director. I was the show lighting director, show set-up carpenter, and show electrician.

On the first leg of the tour, a Guthrie production, we jumped from city to city. We spent a lot of our time together, stayed in the same hotel, often on the same floor, and ate many of our meals together. We even spent three days living in Leonard’s home in L.A..

The second leg was completely different, a week of brush-up and four weeks of shows, all in the Wilbur Theater in Boston, Leonard’s home town. It was no longer a Guthrie show, but was promoted by a New York producer. Leonard and his wife, Sandy, stayed in a hotel downtown and were kept busy with friends and relatives. I stayed in a theatrical hotel in the theater district. The first tour had been something special. This time it was like theatrical tours usually are.

I had left the Guthrie shortly after we got back from the first tour and was free-lancing off the Union Hiring Hall. Dennis Babcock had taken a short leave of absence from the Guthrie and helped us get the show back on it’s feet, and then he went back home. Like I said, things had changed.

Leonard said no matter how busy he would be in Boston he wanted Denny and I to met his folks. ‘They want to meet you two. Dora will cook us one of her great dinners and Max will entertain us.’ Leonard set it up for the third evening the set-up week.

One of the things I was surprised by was the fact that both of Leonard’s parents barely came up to his shoulders. One thing I was not surprised by was the immaculate condition of the apartment. Sandy, Leonard’s wife had not come with us, but she had warned us not to feel guilty about making our visit extra work for Leonard’s mother.

‘Her house is always dust free and polished like a mirror. You could walk in at two o’clock in the morning or six o’clock at night, anytime, and the place would look the same, like she worked hours to clean. And as far as cooking a big meal… Max might have left for work with only a cup of coffee and a bagel and lox for breakfast, but no matter what, there was always a big meal waiting when he got home. Of course,’ she added, ‘Homemaker and mother was the only job Dora ever had.’

We walked into the hard wood floored dining room and sat down. Denny and I both had made an attempt to take our shoes off in the hallway, but Max wouldn’t let us. We sat down and Max poured us a glass of wine. ‘Nothing fancy. Kosher. Gets the taste buds alive for Momma’s cooking. L’chaim,’ he said raising his glass. ‘To life.’

[For Max Nimoy’s adventures as a barber and how Dora and Max met please go to the original posts]

(...) I had accepted the offer for seconds, but politeness made me turn down the offer for thirds. Mrs. Nimoy told us that they were going to see VINCENT the night after the opening. She said that they had seen it when we were in Washington D.C. I remembered many of Leonard’s family attended a wedding there. That is where I met Adam, Leonard’s son, but did not meet Leonard’s folks.She said that she really enjoyed VINCENT, but it made her sad. ‘Such an artist. And such a life. But,’ she added, ‘It is a great show. You all should be very proud.’

I had accepted the offer for seconds, but politeness made me turn down the offer for thirds. Mrs. Nimoy told us that they were going to see VINCENT the night after the opening. She said that they had seen it when we were in Washington D.C. I remembered many of Leonard’s family attended a wedding there. That is where I met Adam, Leonard’s son, but did not meet Leonard’s folks.

She said that she really enjoyed VINCENT, but it made her sad. ‘Such an artist. And such a life. But,’ she added, ‘It is a great show. You all should be very proud.’

Momma’s favorite though is when Leonard plays Tevye in FIDDLER, Max told us.

‘Tradition! Tradition!’ Max sang out. Mrs. Nimoy frowned at him.

‘It reminds me of our life in the Ukraine’, Mrs. Nimoy said smiling. ‘Even when Leonard is not in it. I like the story.’

Max laughed. ‘And she really like it when Leonard’s friend, Zero Mostel was in it. They were rehearsing it here before they reopened it on Broadway. Leonard brought him over here for supper one night’, Max told us. ‘Now there was a man wasn’t afraid to accept thirds.’

‘Charming man,’ Mrs. Nimoy said. ‘I cried when he died last year. Way too young to die. Such a shame. Such a good actor, too,’ she added.

‘And a brave man who wasn’t afraid to stand up for his principals,’ Leonard said, his voice drifting off as he spoke.

Max jumped in breaking the sad mood that had settled in. ‘You know, Leonard, I think maybe my story about cutting The Goat’s ear had something to do with you liking Van Gogh so much. What do you think?’

‘If you say so, Poppa,’ Leonard smiled. ‘And maybe your talking about your scissors subliming gave me the idea for Spock’s Vulcan salute.’

‘Leonard,’ Mrs. Nimoy said as she stood up, ‘Don’t humor him! Now who wants dessert? Apple pie and ice cream.’

Source: https://donostertag.wordpress.com/2018/02/05/1618/

DON OSTERTAG: OFF STAGE

DESSERT AT THE NIMOY’S

(...) Later in my hotel room I thought back on the night and meeting Leonard’s parents. And I thought of all the framed pictures around the dining room. All the pictures were of their two sons, their weddings, their children. There wasn’t any pictures showing off their celebrity son in his many roles like Spock or Tevye. Oh, I imagine somewhere there were scrapbooks filled with pictures and articles of Leonard; but that was a something not to be confused with their pride in their FAMILY, the most important part of their lives.

I never had the privilege of seeing Dora and Max again. Max died in July of 1987. Dora died the following December. But meeting them that one time under those homily circumstances showed me where their son Leonard got his down-to-earth humanity.

https://donostertag.wordpress.com/2018/02/10/dessert-at-the-nimoys/

[thekillerblogofkillers]

Melvin Rees (1933-1995)

Melvin Rees, also known as the Sex Beast, was an American serial killer who was active between 1957 & 1959. Rees sexually assaulted & murdered Margaret Harold, girlfriend of US Army soldier Sgt. Roy D. Hudson & also killed 4 members of the Jackson family 2 years later. After being convicted for the killings, Rees confessed to 2 more murders, with authorities believing his was involved in at least 2 more. Before his arrest and imprisonment Rees was known as a jazz musician in the Washington, D.C. area. Not much is known about his early life, but during the 1950s Rees was a student at the University of Maryland in College Park, just outside of D.C. Classmates later said that he was a talented musician. He dropped out before graduation in order to pursue a music career. He travelled around D.C. playing at local jazz clubs. In 1955 Rees was arrested for the assault of a 36-year-old woman whom he tried to force into his car – she escaped, but did not want to press charges & the case was dropped. Rees’ friends later claimed not to have thought much of this incident until after his killing spree was made public.

It was June 26, 1957, when Margaret Harold & her US Army sergeant boyfriend were forced off the road in Annapolis, Maryland, by Rees. After getting out of his vehicle, Rees asked the couple to roll down their window – at gunpoint. Rees demanded money & cigarettes – Harold’s boyfriend refused, resulting in her being shot point-blank in the face. The boyfriend, horrified at what had just happened, ran away, crossing several fields before reaching a farmhouse, where he called law enforcement. As the soldier was collected from the farmhouse, other officers arrived at the scene of the crime, where they discovered Rees had stripped and sexually assaulted Harold. Whilst searching the area for Rees (who had not at that time been identified), police came across an abandoned building & noticed that a basement window had been broken in. Inside the basement, investigators found a collection of violent porn and autopsy photos of females taped up on the walls. They also found a yearbook photo of Wanda Tipton, a 1945 UMD graduate. Police found & questioned Tipton, who denied knowing anyone matching the description of a tall, dark-haired man as described by Harold’s boyfriend. As there were few leads & forensic science was primitive in 1957, Harold’s murder became a cold case until Rees killed again 2 years later.

Carroll Jackson, his wife Mildred & their young daughters, Janet & Susan, had been visiting relatives in Apple Grove on January 11, 1959, when they disappeared. They were a happy family with no enemies, which made their disappearance all the more puzzling. A female relative of the Jacksons, who was also driving home from the same reunion in Apple Grove, discovered the family’s abandoned car at the roadside & called police. The car was inspected but there were no indications of a struggle. Despite a huge search for the missing family, they were not found – until March 4. 2 men gathering brush near Fredericksburg found the decaying body of Carroll Jackson in a ditch; it was discovered that he had been shot in the back of the head, with his hands tied behind his back. His body had been dumped on top of the corpse of 18-month-old Janet, who had been left in the ditch alive & had suffocated under the weight of his body. On March 21, the bodies of Mildred & Susan Jackson were found in an Annapolis forest showing signs of torture and sexual assault.

Not long after the disappearance of the Jackson family, a local couple reported that they had a scary experience with a tall, dark-haired man that very afternoon. The man drove behind & around them, flashing his headlights & forcing them off the road. He then got out of his car and approached the couple – luckily, they sensed danger & fled. After Mildred & Susan Jackson’s bodies were discovered, detectives found an abandoned building near their dump site (believed to be the same building searched after Margaret Harold’s murder). Inside, police discovered a red button which was missing from Mildred’s dress, which indicated that she was taken there after being kidnapped. Tire marks were discovered outside the building. After finding similarities between the Harold & Jackson cases, investigators started to believe that both murders were committed by the same person. An anonymous letter (later revealed to have been sent by Glenn Moser of Norfolk, Virginia) suggested that authorities look into Melvin Rees. Moser explained that he & Rees often had philosophical discussions, one of which was about whether murder could ever be considered acceptable. Rees, under the influence of Benzedrine at the time, told Moser that he considered murder to be part of the “human experience”, & something that he wanted to take part in. “You can’t say it’s wrong to kill,” Rees is alleged to have said to Moser, “only individual standards make it right or wrong.” This discussion supposedly took place the day before the Jackson family disappeared – on hearing of their murders months later, Moser suspected Rees to be responsible. When confronted, Rees did not confess to the killings but also didn’t deny that he was responsible. In the anonymous letter, Moser voiced his suspicion that Rees had been responsible for the 1957 murder of Margaret Harold as well, as the men were working in the Annapolis area as salesmen at the time. Authorities followed the lead & decided to question Rees, but found that he had moved out of his house, leaving no forwarding address. They also looked for Rees at the jazz clubs he was known to have performed in but still couldn’t find him. After running a background check, police found that Rees had attended UMD & had once been in a relationship with Wanda Tipton, their person of interest in the Margaret Harold case. After further questioning, Tipton admitting to having a relationship with Rees, but said she broke it off after Rees claimed he was married.

The writer of the anonymous letter came forward as Glenn Moser in 1960 to tell authorities that Rees had been in touch and was currently working at a music shop in West Memphis, Arkansas. Rees was arrested & after searching his home police found notes describing the murders of the Jackson family. The man who witnessed the murder of Margaret Harold confirmed that Rees was the man he saw shoot his girlfriend. Rees was convicted by the state of Maryland of Margaret Harold’s murder & was sentenced to life in prison. Virginia added a death sentence for the other 4 murders, which was changed to life in 1972. Melvin Rees died in prison in 1995.

[hiphopguerrilla]

Pro Sasuke Uchiha : Constructive Criticism of Kishimoto’s Antagonist

Disclaimer: I am not a critic. To anyone that disagrees, my humble opinion doesn’t count for anything because I’m just some loser in his mom’s basement as far as you’re concerned. I’m little more than a disappointed fan. Thank you for reading if you’ve go this far. Hope you can read the rest with objective consideration and without bias. This will be a long rant, you’ve been forewarned.

So I’ve been on a spree of criticism of Kishi’s work. Cannot help being criticil of an Artist/Writer who has let me down just as many times as he/she has inspired me. So because he let me down he has inspired me to write about some of the things I’m very critical of because I have no closure from the series and I can’t help but feel “Next Generation”  wasn’t about love for writing the story anymore.

In the beginning of the series Sasuke isn’t yet the antagonist, but it’s clear Kishi intended the to of them to be rivals while building what was supposed to be, and in many ways, is a story of incredible bonds and friendship. It was clear he had a motivation behind what he wanted to do as far as the character developing into and I see, it seems anyway, that he deviated from that. 

By the early stages of the character development it is established through Sasuke’s monolgue to Sakura “I am an avenger” that he never stopped grieving the loss of his clan and family and that he wanted the same closure fans never got. He said to Kakashi “I will restore my clan” and while I’m certain this isn’t meant to be taken literally he wanted to do right by their memory. 

Understanding that he didn’t just lose his family, he was literally tortured at the age of 8(forced to endure something that had Kakashi bed ridden for a week), he lost connection to his heritage(remember Madara is one of the founding members of the village yet Sasuke had no clue who he was), he lost his idol in Itachi and was forced to deal with a damaged psyche that no one could really repair Itachi drilling in his head that he was some sort of coward. He has both an inferiority complex and a superiority complex because of the standard the Clan is held to. Rather than knowing what is and isn’t true with his parents to guide him through his mess of a life.

What’s disappointing is by the end of the series that wasn’t the main take away from his character. Why? Because the development of his character was stifled by Naruto. Yes, I’m talking about the main character of the story. It’s very relevant to know and understand that Kishi didn’t take time to develop many of the characters in the story. Tenten, Hinata, Lee to an extent, Ino, Choji, Kiba, and Shino among others I may even be forgetting because....yea its obvious.

So to the point. Naruto borders on being a gary stu because, seemingly, Kishi was more partial to him than anyone Sasuke included. That’s not to say Sasuke didn’t get charcter development, just he didn’t develop in a way that was understandable to the majority of fans.

As I was saying about the end of the story none of this is understood. Worst part being that Itachi overshadows Sasuke’s character in a way that is completely disrespectful to fans who had great insterest in the development of him as Sasuke’s antagonist. I do not in anyway disagree with the choice to make Itachi remain his loving brother, who made a difficult choice for the good of the village and the one he cared for the most, but to be honest the logic that comes out of Itachi’s choice and reasoning by fans loving him so yet having great disdain for Sasuke as describe: Whiny, emo, ungrateful, selfish, among other things is a fallacy. Most of those things are inaccurate as well hypocritical to praise Itachi at the same time. 

Firstly lest start with him being ungrateful or selfish. It was immediately after the death of his clan, that this clearly life altering even influenced him to decide without doubt that he would devote his life to seeing JUSTICE for what happened then. This is how the story STARTED, please understand that it wasn’t until part 2 that this turns into full blown revenge and blind hatred in a completely hypocritical manner that made fans who already disliked Sasuke absolutely loathe him. I’ll say again this is merely so Naruto could play hero and save his soul(see there I’m getting irritated thinking about this already).

If you have a goal like becoming Hokage, or President of the United States, or First Pick in the NFL draft, or becoming head Medic nin, whatever real life or fictional you know that you can’t just decide to give it up because people say it is Irrational. Sasuke’s ultimate goal was to avenge his family. That meant he had to become strong enough to defeat Itachi, which meant sacrifices must be made.

What did he sacrifice. A normal childhood, his friendships, and the closest thing he had to a family since his blood relatives died. Yet Sasuke is selfish? Sacrificing your frienships and chance at a normal life in favor of a decision you made at 8 years old because of the family you LOVED is probably the most selfless thing a person can do. I often see people compare him to both Kakashi, and Naurto in these cases to justify loathing his character and making silly memes to ridicule him.

Kakashi couldn’t get revenge on anyone, seeing as how his only family commit suicide, The White Fang was not murdered/slaughtered. As far as Rin and Obito, they died in the line of duty they weren’t killed simply because some evil bastard(as far as Sasuke knew) wanted to “Test my power.” 

Naruto, had no connection to his family until Jiraiya and also had no concept of vengence until Jiraiya died, and If we are really to give credit where its due, the only reason he chooses not to avenge him is 1. Because it would go agaisnt his Masters wishes 2. Because he see the weight Sasuke’s had to carry and wants to free his friend from that pain. He can’t do that if he chooses to walk a path that was not his. 

Another thing that Kishi made very clear was that was the point. Sasuke was at his best when he was written as a character that manifests his own reality, and walks his own path without regret. Let’s not forgot that Fugaku is nothing like Jiraiya. He didn’t raise Sasuke to aim for peace or anything like that, in fact, one of the Uchiha’s rules is that they don’t take prisoners. Yet another reason Sasuke took it upon himself to kill Itachi, it was his duty.

Then of course, yes I’m about to go there you’ve been wared, there’s the SasuSaku thing. Why? Just why? This relationship, was never called for from the get go. Another reason so many Americans are so messed up that they don’t understand the difference between true love and infatuation. Where does Sakura’s “love” begin, where does Sasuke’s more importantly? Was that established with any certainty?

In the beginning the bulk off their interaction consisted with Sasuke ignoring her and calling her annoying. The nicest thing he says to her the entire series is “Thank you.” seriously? Not “I’ll miss you.” not  “I care for you...deeply” but “Thank you.” Thats like something you say when someone passes the salt at the dinner table.

What is their connection? I refuse to bring up other pairs because is about Sasuke development as a character not SasuSaku. Sakura does nothing but follow Sasuke around like a love sick puppy and by the end of the series, it somehow pays off and while it may feel like a win for fans of that pair, to me as a fan of the overall series and writing that makes sense even in a fictional world where characters have superpowers. There should be some logic there at least. 

What we know at the start of part one is Sakura is a 12 year old girl with a crush on the most popular boy in school. Hilarious, that’s the foundation of this pairing, never in part one and hardly anything in the series at all does it explain where these “romantic” feelings developed. It least we know why Hinata admires Naruto (sorry nothing more on NaruHina,another time perhaps). 

And Sasuke never shows any affection to her what so ever besides “Thank you.” of course and gently lying her on the park bench. Don’t think I don’t notice the SasuSaku moments either. Like when he was about to break both of Zaku’s arms and Sakura hugs him. Probably as close ot romance as it gets and Sasuke is being hugged from behind. He doesn’t initiate the hug and he doesn’t hug her back, he stands there suprised at probably the first time he’s been hugged since his mother was murdered.

Understand this, if you take that as a sign Sasuke felt the same, fine. That is absolutely acceptable, even understandable. However, for me, that is a bit half assed. It’s really not much to go on over the course of 700 chapters to say they “fell in love”. Because to me love does not equate to trying to force someone to notice you for two years, having attempts at affection met with disdain and even physical assault, like when he slaps the apples she spent so much time carving out of her hands as she visited him and tried to feed him at the hospital. 

I’m sure I don’t have to mention the actual attempted murder at the summit to anybody so that’s all I’ll say about it for now. Now back to Sasuke’s overall story as I prepare to close. The summit was probably the biggest chance to turn Sasuke into an admirable character in fans eyes. 

Instead what Kishi does is comepletely wreck his character, so he can be the antagonist and be saved by Naruto. There’s even this little comparison by Karin where she see’s how evil and corrupt Sasuke is, another innocent he tried to kill, and then sees how pure Naruto’s soul is. It was ridiculous. I understand Naruto is the hero of the story, but that never meant Sasuke HAD to be the villain.

He even turns the entire situation with Danzo and his orders to have the Uchiha clan annihilated into a complete mess. Sasuke has gone batshit, and rather than being a person trying to do right by his clan and his brother’s memory, Kishi turns him into this absolute fiend who will murder even his own allies just to make some silly point based on a story told him by a guy who’s real faces he’s never seen even once. A guy who wasn’t even the real Madara Uchiha. As if Sasuke was never strong enough to separate himself from his emotions and what he believes is right. Itachi was already dying and he wanted Sasuke  to kill him as atonement. He killed the uchiha in favor of the leaf why would he want Sasuke to destroy the village.

If he were written properly Sasuke would’ve killed Danzo and walked his own path, facing Naruto one final time and either dying or leaving all of that mess behind. It would’ve been fine for him to return to the village if he there to sow seed and start a new with the Uchiha clan. Instead he's a glorified prize for Sakura and Sasusaku fans, as well as someone Naruto basically stalked for 2 years just to force him to not even be in the picture anyway.

As I said in the beginning, or someone in the middle maybe. Sasuke was at his best when he was written as an independent character walking his own path and sacrificing what mattered most to him in favor of doing right by his people, his family, his clan. I thank anyone who made it to the bottom of this post.