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atrwriting · 5 months ago

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chapter fourteen: the wolf and the dragon (modern!gangleader!aemond x barowner!reader)

look at that king prince ponder his war crimes

back with another installment of everyone's favorite toxic dragon rider in this modern au

as always, warnings: no smut, violence, death of lucerys

chapter fourteen...

you awoke to aemond’s arm wrapped tightly around your midsection. his strong arm smelled like musk and fading soap, and there was nothing that could ever compare to it. you could feel his breath on the back of your neck and shivers went up your spine. every hair on your body stood up, ready at attention when you felt his body shift and pull you closer into him. his body was pressed firmly against yours and for a split second… you could’ve forgotten the traumatic events of the last few days. all you could feel was his warmth and how fucking nice it felt. reality was a bitch of a bitch, and it began to nag at your nerves as you began to think about all of the problems that sat outside your door. a stark, like yourself — now that deserved a scoff from each of your family members. how could you be such a coward, hiding in your —

“i was right,” he grunted into your hair, interrupting your thoughts.

“about what?” you yawned.

“you’re a terrible bed mate,” he spat. “you steal blankets.”

you giggled, throwing blankets over him to share the warmth. you nuzzled your weight back against him and sighed, content.

“i meant it when i said i would make it up to you,” he spoke against your neck. “i don’t intend on making the same mistakes again.”

you hummed. “you can make it up to me by letting me sleep.”

“that probably won’t be happening, sweetheart,” he whispered.

you grunted. "you want to get off my black list? why?"

“because aegon has been itching to come in this room.”

you pushed yourself to your elbows then, staring at him in disbelief and anger. how could you have not known? how could aegon not have made his presence known, and how could aemond not tell you?

“where is he?!”

“the living room,” aemond sighed, indifferent.

you scoffed and sent aemond a glare. he shrugged.

fucking asshole.

“aegon!” you called. “come in!”

immediately, you heard footsteps. they were heavy, and fast, but not faster than the turning of the doorknob. aemond and you were much too tired to turn away, and aegon was too greedy to give you time to put yourselves together.

“lovebirds!” he sang. “i am so glad we have chosen to leave our troubles in the past, especially since we have quite large fish to fry today.”

you groaned loudly into the pillow. “what is it with targaryen men not letting me sleep?!”

you peaked from underneath your blanket to look at aegon. surprisingly, he did not appear or even smell like he had been near alcohol in some time. his eyes weren't bloodshot, his hair wasn’t as messy, and he wasn’t shaky or dazed.

you grew concerned.

you pulled the sheet up towards your collar bone, eyeing aegon with worry. your lips parted softly in disbelief as your eyes narrowed onto his form. you watched him narrow his eyes back at you with an equal mount of concern, but also confusion.

you finally asked your pressing question.

“aegon,” you began. “are you… sober?”

“unfortunately, my dear... yes,” he spoke. “enough chit chat. i have a plan. a shit plan, but a plan nonetheless."

---

aegon’s bright idea was a bit uncomfortable, but safest for everyone involved.

first there was a matter of the bar.

a son had been killed, which was considered one of the highest offenses — even if it could be legally considered to not be aemond’s fault.

it was a hard decision, but you closed the bar for a week to keep your employees away for their own safety. you gave them all a paid week of vacation, possible as the bands from the nights prior had allowed you a little extra money to be able to do so. the money from the entertainment was supposed to be a cushion for unforeseen events, but you reasoned with yourself that this was as good of an unforeseen event as any. it hurt you, and your wallet — but safety was the highest priority.

there was also a matter of the safety and integrity of the building and your home above it. aegon had stated that you were also not safe within its walls, and unfortunately you could see his logic behind it. a broken clock is right twice a day, and apparently a drunken asshole like aegon had to get a lick in somewhere. working above your place of business only provided convenience in some areas. when it came to the matter that the business below it was in danger, so was your home. it was a hard decision, but the choice to vacate the premises for the time being was in everyone’s best interest.

not before you put in a security system, however. if someone was going to burn down your building, you were going to get them on tape. the “j.d.” at the end of your name provided you with some feeling of safety and assurance in times such as these, especially the friends you made because of it down at the local police station and county clerk’s office, even if wasn’t of much use to you before this situation.

the next part of the plan… was the most uncomfortable for you.

you would be living with the targaryen family — yes, family… not just the brothers — for the time being, for at least a week. when you described it as a house, they reinforced that it was an estate. you raised your eyebrow at the word choice, as it was the twenty-first century and the word estate usually meant a legal entity, rather than a physical one. rest assured, the targaryens meant an actual estate.

and it was fucking massive.

it looked like something that came out of the old history books.

gravel roadways, fine green grass, elegant flower bushes adorning walkways, gray stone spanning at least a half a mile high, and the classics statutes look as if they were stolen out of those books. the targaryens had always portrayed themselves as royalty, but now… being here… it was like they actually were.

you should’ve known, honestly. the targaryens were an old, powerful family, and there was no reason why they wouldn’t be in possession of one, with many rooms, with many inhabitants, many staff members, and many acres. the dwelling itself was, for lack of a better word — royal.

you almost didn’t believe it when aemond’s motorcycle came to a halt on the gravel road leading up to its massive front doors.

doors. plural. not door, and definitely not singular.

“seven hells..." you rasped from behind him, unlatching your hands from around his waist.

“new relations do not usually call for meeting families so soon… but, unfortunately, you’re about to become quite acquainted with my mother.”

you smiled. “brought a bottle of rose just for her.”

he clenched his jaw. “how did you know it was her favorite?”

you quirked an eyebrow at him. “i remember important details, aemond, especially when i need to be a kiss up.”

the walk from where they parked their bikes to the front doors was a long one. the expensive gravel underneath your feet crunched, and you had half a mind to steal aemond's bike and never look back. however, it was hard to jump ship when aemond's heavy hand was at your lower waist and forced you upwards towards the threshold of the entryway to his home. his massive fucking home...

"this is a terrible plan," you muttered.

"my mother will love you," aegon scoffed.

it was aemond's turn to scoff. "this is the first place they would think us to be, aegon."

"what, they're going to destroy the mansion that rhaenyra feels entitled to?" aegon scoffed once more, making his descent towards the double front doors. he shook his head as if he couldn't believe that aemond would question him.

aegon walked ahead of you two, leaving you and aemond to walk in stride together. you wanted to take his hand, but you were worried that you would be rejected. it took aemond far too long to finally come to turn with his feelings — you weren't sure if he was ready to make it apparent to the rest of his family.

"is your mother involved in your... business?" you ventured.

aemond swallowed. "the... business that can be made public, yes. she is the face for it. our grandfather, otto, has a hand in both. my mother's bodyguard, cole, mainly protects my mother from any threats that make themselves apparent... in light of my business."

"so she'll be fine with the bartender showing up next to you?" you attempted to joke.

"aegon was right: she will love you," aemond answered, but did not elaborate. "she will also just be happy that a clothed woman shows up with aegon."

"she'll just be happy any woman at all shows up with aemond," aegon threw over his shoulder. "clothed or not."

you giggled, flashing bright eyes at aemond. he rolled his eyes at his brother's and almost threw him a snarl, or shot him — but it was almost as if he would feel you turn your head towards him, catching his attention. it was then that aemond faced you, and smiled with you. your gaze softened at him, and you couldn't help but let the warmth wash over you.

"no chick flick moments," you spat, but your smile remained.

"then why're you blushing, hmm?"

you swatted at his arm, and he chuckled once more.

when you had finally walked through the threshold of the mansion, you felt your breath catch in your throat. the guards had opened the doors for the three of you, and you fell into place between aegon and aemond. they guided you to the left, where alicent, otto, and cole were in the living room.

alicent's dark eyes were filled with torment. she had a protective hand placed on the pendant of her religious amulet, while her free hand held her other elbow. her lips were pursed in worry, but when her eyes met her sons... she fled for them.

"are either of you hurt?" she gushed, standing before you. her eyes flickered between both of her sons, each of her hands reaching out to grasp one of their arms. you stepped backwards, hoping to give them their intimate moment, but aegon and aemond both reached back to steady your back and keep you in place. you could've killed them, but you wouldn't have had time. alicent's eyes met yours. "you... you're from the bar."

you swallowed. "yes, mrs. targaryen. i'm sorry to have, um... intruded."

"you're not intruding," both brothers spat, keeping their eyes on their mother.

you swallowed again, eyes averting to anything in the room you thought could save you.

alicent spoke next. "please... everyone, sit. we have much to discuss."

when they all retreated to their seats and alicent wavered in front of you, you took that as your cue to reach into your bag and take out what you brought for her. a bottle of rose.

"mrs. targaryen... I know you probably didn't expect to see me today..." you began, holding the bottle out for her. "but i remembered that this was your favorite."

she took the bottle in her hands and inspected the label with intense eyes. from behind her, both otto and cole stepped towards her and fell behind her once she had taken the bottle from you. you honestly meant it as a nice gesture, but you realized then that the men were worried for alicent's safety. once aemond and aegon realized what was happening, they stepped towards the group.

"we should have the kitchen inspect it, daughter," her father stated. "these are... times where you can never be too cautious."

you scrunched your eyebrows. "i'm sorry... it's sealed, so i figured it was safe. it's a gift for you, but if you would feel more comfortable if I took the first sip... i wouldn't mind."

"no, that's alright," alicent whispered, raising her gaze to yours. "let us share it. the seven know we need it."

you smiled sadly at her, and she returned your smile.

"count me in," aegon shouted from his place, providing comic relief for the group.

aemond glared at his brother.

“perhaps it would be best to discuss family business in private,” otto spoke to his daughter as his gaze resting upon you.

“she stays,” alicent replied, eyes now on you. “she’s clothed and she’s been seen in daylight — so she’s not aegon’s.”

“excuse—“ aegon’s voice was heard, but it was halted by a thud into his side that could be heard from behind you.

“we are seeing each other, mother,” aemond replied.

your breath caught in your throat, your gaze threatening to drift down to where aemond’s shoes were on the floor beside you. you wanted to hide — behind aemond, behind aegon, hands over your eyes — anything to escape the heavy gaze from otto hightower who seemed to loom over you.

you felt a hand on your shoulder, and your eyes snapped to it.

it was that of a woman’s.

alicent’s.

“i am happy to have you here, dear," she spoke. "for my son, of course — but now i finally have someone to shake a bottle of pink with."

"alicent —" began otto, before he was interrupted.

"sit." alicent's order was final.

dinner in the targaryen mansion was… weird, to say the least.

okay — very weird.

not only was it weird — but it was silent. absolutely fucking silent. the type of silent that makes you nervous to swallow, lest the sound fills the entire fucking room. you couldn’t help the feeling of wiping your mouth after bite because even though the brothers were clad in black leather and walked hand in hand with debauchery, their table manners were nothing less than impeccable.

you didn’t not dare speak — hoping, praying that aemond. fuck — you’d even settle for fucking aegon to say something inappropriate at this point. anything. just fucking anything.

but there was nothing. you sat in between aemond and aegon, waiting for everyone to finish their food and for this to all be over.

the entire family dined together, except for cole — who stood guard by the door, casting a judgmental glance towards you every now and then. you had half a mind to excuse yourself and find the nearest bathroom, but aemond and aegon both looked unbothered.

that was until the door opened.

two white haired children ran through the door into the elaborate dining room.

twins. a boy and a girl.

and they ran straight for aegon.

aegon immediately pushed his chair away from the table to allow both children to run into his lap.

you sat there, stunned. you watched as aegon pulled them both into a hug, overcome with joy.

that was when aemond leaned forward, whispering into your ear.

"his children," he whispered.

"they're beautiful," you responded.

"oi! — rude manners on both of you, aye?" aegon spun in his seat, ready to introduce you to his son and daughter. "this is jaehaera and jaehaerys. say hello to uncle aemond's girlfriend."

who knew such beautiful kids could come from a handsome, yet rancid man like aegon. they were blonde, purple-eyed toddlers who had as big of a smile as their father. your eyes found aegon's face then, who... for once... looked happy. happy. actually happy.

you laughed then, and aegon joined in.

"very nice to meet you both," you smiled.

"leave her be, aegon," aemond grunted.

you side-eyed aemond and scoffed before turning back to the children. you leaned forward, placing a hand to cover the side of your mouth. purposefully, you loudly whispered to the children, "uncle aemond is very grumpy."

the children giggled and aegon joined in.

someone clear their throat from across the table. you had only been acquainted with the folk in this house for a few hours, but otto hightower had cleared his throat enough for you to be able to recognize it without seeing it. you would've rolled your eyes if you did not feel his stare burning into the side of your head.

"grandpa's grumpy, too," aegon spat, setting his children down. "take a seat children."

"aegon —" otto began.

"jaehaerys is my heir, and jaehaera is his sister," aegon spat, losing all of his joy from before. "they stay."

otto did not disagree.

"enough," aemond spat. "it is time we discuss the manner at hand."

you stayed silent as the family spoke.

"i agree, grandson — what were you thinking?" otto spat, apprently not one to wait. "a boy is dead!"

"a boy who once took my brother's eye," aegon spat. "it was an accident — but do we really need to mourn him?"

otto slammed a heavy fist onto the table. "we mourn not him, but our safety! our security! do you have any idea what this has done?"

"father..." alicent spoke, her gaze threatening to look upon the face of her father rather than straight head onto the table.

"what will lecturing me do, grandsire?" aemond spat, holding the eye contact with otto that his daughter couldn't muster. "an accident, yes — but one i do not grieve. we need to think of our next move, not waste the time before they enact theirs."

otto raised his eyebrows in disbelief, the shake of his head following in suit. with one heavy, deep breath — the closest thing otto hightower would get to a cleansing, deep breath — he finally spoke.

"his death was officially ruled an accident, even without our connections in the police department," he sighed. "it was an accident — but rhaenyra will not see it as so."

"no," alicent spoke, leaning back into her chair and sighing. she raised the glass of pink wine to her lips as she stare straight ahead, through the chairs and very walls of the mansion that stood in the path of her gaze. she looked far and wide, lost in her own aimless stare, but the answer was not there — nor was rhaenyra, nor rhaenyra's forgiveness. you saw it in alicent's eyes then — as most likely did everyone else. the realization. the torment. the guilt. the shame. the betrayal. the doom. alicent's final words were the final words on the topic of the accident, and the final nail in the coffin of lucerys velaryon. "no. rhaenyra will not."

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spicyicetea · 1 year ago

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My dearest soulmate

So some people wanted a Ganondorf version of my Calamity!reader so I'm finally writing it, enjoy.

An old proverb. Oral legend passed down through the Gerudo families for centuries. Their king, who is only born every century, and his fated love. Many reject this as the truth. Their desire for the king to be free to conquer Hyrule is so strong that they hide the legend. One slip up is all it took for all that work to come undone.

"What did you say?" The King's voice boomed, demanding and harsh.

The servant quivered in fear as her friend stepped forward to explain.

"We were just speaking about an old story we heard from our mothers as children my king. Our apologies for angering you."

"What story? The beginning was similar to an old legend I have read about, this may be the end of what I desire to learn!" He grins, staring down at them.

The shortest woman gulped and began to recite the story as she remembered it,

"Once every 100 years, a king will be born into the Gerudo royal family. He shall bring forth an era of change and power to the Gerudo people. This legendary king will fall victim to a knight chosen by the Sword that seals the darkness. A cycle of pain that can only be broken through union of the king and the Lady of Calamity."

"Lady of Calamity? I haven't yet heard this part of my legend." "Yes... this has been ignored as the Gerudo people of the past could never find her and assumed she didn't exist."

"Well, if she is what I require to win, than we shall find her. Prepare the army, we do not sleep until that woman is found!" The King yelled, walking off to arm himself.

---POV CHANGE---

It was a normal day for the young elven woman. The dark bubbling malice followed her feet padding along the grass through the forest. Her home. She had no choice but to hide from the village people she once regarded as family who exiled her once her powers had emerged. An ancient legend caused her to be thrown to the wolves by her former friends, although it did mean she would avoid execution. Words uttered by Hylians of old had doomed her to a life of solitary suffering unless she succumbed to the fate the world had set for her. But, she would never. Why in the world would she throw herself into the arms of pure and utter evil. Ganondorf. Her soulmate.

Although she had never met him, obviously, the tales of the crimes he had committed against her kind made her fear the man. She herself knew she was far from weak, the malice that follows her beck and call protects her well enough. Yet, she was apparently, his win condition for his atrocities. Just because her people betrayed her, doesn't mean she will betray them.

A dense unsettling air settled over the forest. Y/N felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she glanced around the trees cautiously. An arrow whizzed by her face and she jumped back, falling down as a heavy foot was brought down on her chest.

"Stay down Hylian!" The Gerudo woman commanded. "We look for the Lady of Calamity, have you heard that name? Many say she's as tall as us Gerudo and as strong as a Lynel."

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. Perhaps she could hide who she was by lying and going along with the rumors they had heard. Yes, that's a great way to escape!

"Ah, yes! She resides in a nearby village. She protects them from monster attacks." She said hurried in a soft voice.

The Gerudo woman nodded and removed her foot from Y/N's chest. She sat up and held the aching ribs, the pain soon dissipating from fear. An intense wave of nausea overcame her as a strange smell filled her nose. The hot desert sand, Warm Saffina oil and a faint dizzying musk. Her vision shook as she lent down, wiping sweat from her brow.

On the other side of the thick treeline the Gerudo King was having a similar struggle. His head became clouded with the strange pounding of his heart, echoing through his body. The fresh scent of the forest was pierced by a sinful sweet smell. Every step he took, following the scent made him feel as if he was going to collapse. His warriors followed him as he made his way past the trees, staring directly at the meek woman on the floor.

"Lord Ganondorf, are you alright?"

"Stay away," The woman groaned. "I haven't fought for so long to lose to you now, you beast."

"Do not speak to the King like that," One of the warriors yelled, but was silenced as Ganondorf chuckled.

"Look at me woman, where is she?"

"where is who? I do not know the woman you seek! Leave me be!" She growls, ripping at the grass beneath her hands to stay calm.

Ganondorf just chuckles darkly, standing over the woman.

"I know she is here, my wife, my queen to be. Now where does she hide?"

"Nowhere! I live alone in these woods, I do not know the woman you seek. I have never seen a single woman around these parts as tall as any of you!" She declared in rush.

"You're lying, I can sense her!" The King yelled yanking her up by her arm to finally look at him.

The moments their eyes locked he could feel himself fall apart. Her lashes shielded most of her eyes from his gaze, yet the iris' he could see filled him with a strange sensation. Y/N felt her knees buckle and immediately fall apart as he grabbed her, a dull heat drumming where he had made contact, as well as forming deep knots in her abdomen. Her lips parted as she panted, a strange heat settling over the two despite the chill winds in the forest. Ganondorf felt his body begin to hunger for the small woman, noticing the malice prepared to catch her should he drop her. Although, he didn't plan to. Lust. That described the immense, powerful sensation that was taking over his mind. An unstoppable, violent desire to part her thighs and control her small form. His people would worship her, similar to how he already did. She stared up at him in fear, his mind still caught in a trance.

"Ganondorf?" She muttered, worried he would kill her then and there.

The small whimpers just inspired more sinful desires. For her to scream his name into the cold desert nights to consummate their marriage, only his body heat to warm her small, fragile form. Months later for her to have the Gerudo guards at her beck and call as she relaxed in their bed, plump with his young. Years later small red-headed children running around her legs as she carried their youngest child, greeting him back from a battle. Yes, it was all perfect. He would conquer Hyrule for her. For his wife.

I hope you sinners enjoyed that, I know I did. I'm gonna tag those who I saw asking for it so they get notifs. If you like this then go check out my other pieces of writing! Thanks and bye!

Tagged: @professor-petty @simp-erman @kujogoofzeus

#legend of zelda botw #legend of zelda tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda breath of the wild #legend of zelda x reader #x reader #yandere x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf #ganon #yandere #soulmates

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 5 days ago

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de Adder

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

November 8, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Nov 09, 2024

Social media has been flooded today with stories of Trump voters who are shocked to learn that tariffs will raise consumer prices as reporters are covering that information. Daniel Laguna of LevelUp warned that Trump’s proposed 60% tariff on Chinese imports could raise the costs of gaming consoles by 40%, so that a PS5 Pro gaming system would cost up to $1,000. One of the old justifications for tariffs was that they would bring factories home, but when the $3 billion shoe company Steve Madden announced yesterday it would reduce its imports from China by half to avoid Trump-promised tariffs, it said it will shift production not to the U.S., but to Cambodia, Vietnam, Mexico, and Brazil.

There are also stories that voters who chose Trump to lower household expenses are unhappy to discover that their undocumented relatives are in danger of deportation. When CNN’s Dana Bash asked Indiana Republican senator-elect Jim Banks if undocumented immigrants who had been here for a long time and integrated into the community would be deported, Banks answered that deportation should include “every illegal in this country that we can find.” Yesterday a Trump-appointed federal judge struck down a policy established by the Biden administration that was designed to create an easier path to citizenship for about half a million undocumented immigrants who are married to U.S. citizens.

Meanwhile, Trump’s advisors told Jim VandeHei and MIke Allen of Axios that Trump wasted valuable time at the beginning of his first term and that they will not make that mistake again. They plan to hit the ground running with tax cuts for the wealthy and corporations, deregulation, and increased gas and oil production. Trump is looking to fill the top ranks of the government with “billionaires, former CEOs, tech leaders and loyalists.”

After the election, the wealth of Trump-backer Elon Musk jumped about $13 billion, making him worth $300 billion. Musk, who has been in frequent contact with Russian president Vladimir Putin, joined a phone call today between President-elect Trump and Ukraine president Volodymyr Zelensky.

In Salon today, Amanda Marcotte noted that in states all across the country where voters backed Trump, they also voted for abortion rights, higher minimum wage, paid sick and family leave, and even to ban employers from forcing their employees to sit through right-wing or anti-union meetings. She points out that 12% of voters in Missouri voted both for abortion rights and for Trump.

Marcotte recalled that Catherine Rampell and Youyou Zhou of the Washington Post showed before the election that voters overwhelmingly preferred Harris’s policies to Trump’s if they didn’t know which candidate proposed them. An Ipsos/Reuters poll from October showed that voters who were misinformed about immigration, crime, and the economy tended to vote Republican, while those who knew the facts preferred Democrats. Many Americans turn for information to social media or to friends and family who traffic in conspiracy theories. As Angelo Carusone of Media Matters put it: “We have a country that is pickled in right-wing misinformation and rage.”

In The New Republic today, Michael Tomasky reinforced that voters chose Trump in 2024 not because of the economy or inflation, or anything else, but because of how they perceived those issues—which is not the same thing. Right-wing media “fed their audiences a diet of slanted and distorted information that made it possible for Trump to win,” Tomasky wrote. Right-wing media has overtaken legacy media to set the country’s political agenda not only because it’s bigger, but because it speaks with one voice, “and that voice says Democrats and liberals are treasonous elitists who hate you, and Republicans and conservatives love God and country and are your last line of defense against your son coming home from school your daughter.”

Tomasky noted how the work of Matthew Gertz of Media Matters shows that nearly all the crazy memes that became central campaign issues—the pet-eating story, for example, or the idea that the booming economy was terrible—came from right-wing media. In those circles, Vice President Kamala Harris was a stupid, crazed extremist who orchestrated a coup against President Joe Biden and doesn’t care about ordinary Americans, while Trump is under assault and has been for years, and he’s “doing it all for you.”

Investigative reporter Miranda Green outlined how “pink slime” newspapers, which are AI generated from right-wing sites, turned voters to Trump in key swing state counties. Republican strategist Sarah Longwell, who studies focus groups, told NPR, “When I ask voters in focus groups if they think Donald Trump is an authoritarian, the #1 response by far is, ‘What is an authoritarian?’”

In a social media post, Marcotte wrote: “A lot of voters are profoundly ignorant. More so than in the past.” That jumped out to me because there was, indeed, an earlier period in our history when voters were “pickled in right-wing misinformation and rage.”

In the 1850s, white southern leaders made sure that voters did not have access to news that came from outside the American South, and instead steeped them in white supremacist information. They stopped the mail from carrying abolitionist pamphlets, destroyed presses of antislavery newspapers, and drove antislavery southerners out of their region.

Elite enslavers had reason to be concerned about the survival of their system of human enslavement. The land boom of the 1840s, when removal of Indigenous peoples had opened up rich new lands for settlement, had priced many white men out of the market. They had become economically unstable, roving around the country working for wages or stealing to survive. And they deeply resented the fabulously wealthy enslavers who they knew looked down on them.

In 1857, North Carolinian Hinton Rowan Helper wrote a book attacking enslavement. No friend to his Black neighbors, Helper was a virulent white supremacist. But in The Impending Crisis of the South: How to Meet It, he used modern statistics to prove that slavery destroyed economic opportunity for white men, and assailed “the illbreeding and ruffianism of the slaveholding officials.” He noted that voters in the South who did not own slaves outnumbered by far those who did. "Give us fair play, secure to us the right of discussion, the freedom of speech, and we will settle the difficulty at the ballot-box,” he wrote.

In the North the book sold like hotcakes—142,000 copies by fall 1860. But southern leaders banned the book, and burned it, too. They arrested men for selling it and accused northerners of making war on the South. Politicians, newspaper editors, and ministers reinforced white supremacy, warned that the end of slavery would mean race war, and preached that enslavement was God’s law.

When northern voters elected Abraham Lincoln in November 1860 on a platform of containing enslavement in the South, where the sapped soil would soon cut into production, southern leaders decided—usually without the input of voters—to secede from the Union. As leaders promised either that there wouldn’t be a fight, or that if a fight happened it would be quick and painless, poor southern whites rallied to the cause of creating a nation based on white supremacy, reassured by South Carolina senator James Chesnut’s vow that he would personally drink all the blood shed in any threatened civil war.

When Confederate forces fired on Fort Sumter in April 1861, poor white men set out for what they had come to believe was an imperative cause to protect their families and their way of life. By 1862 their enthusiasm had waned, and leaders passed a conscription law. That law permitted wealthy men to hire a substitute and exempted one man to oversee every 20 enslaved men, providing another way for rich men to keep their sons out of danger. Soldiers complained it was a “rich man’s war and a poor man’s fight.”

By 1865 the Civil War had killed or wounded 483,026 men out of a southern white population of about five and a half million people. U.S. armies had pushed families off their lands, and wartime inflation drove ordinary people to starvation. By 1865, wives wrote to their soldier husbands to come home or there would be no one left to come home to.

Even those poor white men who survived the war could not rebuild into prosperity. The war took from the South its monopoly of global cotton production, locking poor southerners into profound poverty from which they would not begin to recover until the 1930s, when the New Deal began to pour federal money into the region.

Today, when I received a slew of messages gloating that Trump had won the election and that Republican voters had owned the libs, I could not help but think of that earlier era when ordinary white men sold generations of economic aspirations for white supremacy and bragging rights.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#deAdder #Political Cartoons #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #american history #history #The American south #the Civil War #misinformation #disinformation #crazy memes

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radfemverity · 1 year ago

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Tucker Carlson's interview with misogynist, human trafficker and rapist Andrew Tate has been endorsed by Elon Musk, the man who brought Tate among many other reactionary and far-right commentators back to Twitter when he purchased the platform.

There is nothing spontaneous about Musk doing this, and if you're surprised then you're a fool. This has never been about upholding free speech - hence why you've never seen any of these men promote interesting left-wing thinkers.

The ‘SJW’/‘woke’/progressive Left, as unbearably annoying as so many of them are, just keep getting proven right.

They said Nick Fuentes and Kanye were Holocaust-denying anti-semites.

They said Jordan Peterson supported rapists, and didn't believe women should have legal equality.

They said Ben Shapiro and Matt Walsh would use the gender critical movement to blame gay people and women for any and all degeneracies.

They said Tucker Carlson and Elon Musk's recent ‘free speech’ moves were about repositioning themselves so that they could more effectively elevate the voices of overt extremists.

Again and again, their accusations are ageing like fine wine. The reactionary right’s mask is well and fully off.

Andrew Tate, Elon Musk, Tucker Carlson, Jordan Peterson, Ben Shapiro, Matt Walsh, Joe Rogan, Konstantin Kissin, Paul Joseph Watson, Ian Miles Cheong, Andy Ngo, Michael Malice, Elijah Schaffer, Zuby, Milo Yionnopoulous, Tommy Robinson, Nick Fuentes, Kanye West, Donald Trump… obviously some of these men could dislike each other, I can't imagine Shapiro and Fuentes at the same house party.

But their ideal societies don't look too different. None of these mens’ do. Because any racial, religious or ethnic prejudices they have against each other will come second to their common-ground.

The organised reaction against this brand of progressivism that has rapidly come to monopolise every sector of public life in the last 10 years, is well and truly underway. Musk, Carlson and Tate have given us the sign. And while I pretty heavily dislike the current ‘woke’ progressive ideology (and have a lot of questions about its top-down cultural spread), I'm scared of these guys way more. And if you're anything but a straight man who doesn’t care about any demographic besides straight men, you should be too.

The reason I say ‘straight men’ and not ‘straight white men’ is because, come on, the reactionary right is more racially diverse than most left-wing groups at this point. 😂😂 White nationalists the world over have bent the knee to a mixed-race man who admitted moving to an Eastern European country because of their more lax laws on sexual assault, and in turn, the ease he would have in exploiting the local women in the country’s already active sex-trafficking trade.

White nationalists (whose role in the reactionary right cannot be discarded any more, after Trump and Kanye had a personal dinner with Nick Fuentes) feel more of an affiliation with a non-white, human trafficking violent rapist, despite evidence of his crimes having been public for a while now, than they do with his WHITE victims.

Jordan Peterson, whose daughter has revolved her entire public image around him, who works with and for him, and whose lingerie photographs were retweeted by him, made a dogwhistle in May about women having their right to vote retracted.

Examples of men devaluing the contributions and rights of the women in their families, communities and wider societies are withstanding the test of time, over and over again, because no matter where in the world they are, and no matter what tensions the different religions, cultures, ethnicities and races of men have with each other, there are traits that unite them all. Misogyny is the most obvious one.

The men of these diverse, far-reaching societies, in many ways feel far more of a kinship to each other, than they do to any woman, girl, gay person, disabled person, mother, child, or any other demographic.

The pendulum always swings back, and now that we know these men have got the owner of the world's biggest social media platform on their side, that is a major sign it could be coming soon. Be on guard and look after each other gyns ❤️

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mylionheart2 · 4 days ago

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somenerdfromwhatever · 3 months ago

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Dear Parents who think disowning their kids are cool

Hi. Apparently I still have this. It’s cool, I’m going to use it for my long thought pieces anyway. Regarding recent events in the LGBT community scene, namely Vivian, a trans-girl going against her dad, Elon Musk himself, I reflected a lot on a question I asked onto Reddit recently (I know I know Reddit sucks but it got me thinking):

Why are some parents so okay with disowning trans kids when they gave birth to them?

This is a pretty tough question with some pretty rough answers, but after seeing the shit I saw last week and now, something has to be said on the matter. Content warning because we're dealing with heavy hitting topics like abandonment, and family drama. Also content warning for what I am about to present because, well, I'm pissed.

It is no secret why I bought the Vivian and Elon Musk thing up to tackle this question as having a billionaire shit talk their own kin that they gave birth to is sickening and inhumane. Heck even before his venture into buying Twitter, he was constantly berating her for just being her own genuine self. Heck in her thread on Threads, her father was a massive deadbeat to her. Unsupportive and hostile who wasn’t there in her life all because her crime was being herself. It’s sad isn’t it? This is one of the most wealthiest humans on the planet mind you, the guy that can end world hunger, have massive funds to pool into medical care to accelerate a cure to cancers, but instead he chooses to defame, harass, and downright abuse his own child for being their true self. And given the recent lights of Elon being a dead beat, I also say in my opinion, he just left her to die. He bought Twitter under the guise of fighting censorship, but yet only to impose his own narrow worldview on others to fuel his slander to his own kin. This hypocrisy is disturbing given recent events as he was fighting for the very thing he fought against.

It’s not just the LGBT community, does anyone else remember that mom from an Autism Speaks documentary about how she wanted to commit a murder-suicide on her daughter just for being autistic? Her name was Alison Singer. A name all too well in the community when discussing neurodiversity and programs that don’t speak for us. You also have the case of Kelli Stapleton who ACTUALLY DID IT.

You also have parents like the ones from Toddlers and Tiaras, where Carly developed a spilt personality disorder thanks to their own MOM because Carly loathed being forced into competitions. Heck I even grew up with the whole DaddyOFive situation where Mike abused Cody. So now the question becomes this:

Why are parents willing to disown their children for being who they are? And regardless of their differences, why would they do that when they are the ones who gave them the life to live on this planet?

And with the rise of LGBT hate, disability hate, it seems like every difference a human makes can make a parents cut ties with them in a heartbeat. With no answer in sight, I might as well make one.

Now, look. What I’m going to address next is harsh, but it’s a reality that every parent needs to accept.

If you are pregnant, and you gave birth to a kid, as newfound parents, that child you are holding in your hand is not your property. They are their own soul, and you better let them be their own soul. They have one life to live on this planet, make their moments count. If you toss them aside, berate them, and even disown because you can't handle differing ideologies, interests, etc. don't call yourself a parent. A parent by definition is being there for your children. A parent who tosses them aside over them being different no matter how or what isn’t a parent at all. And parents who disown them, and kick them out... well. I consider them brain-dead murderers, as they are tossing their kin out to die in society. Yep, I'm going there. Parents who disown and kick their kids out to fend for themselves in society (which they all die too sadly) are murderers.

So what if they express their identity?! So what if they have disabilities they grew up with?! So what?! You still gave birth to them! You lead and support them! And YOU need to give your next of kin independency and not turn them into a slave you can mold in YOUR IMAGE.

This is the TRUE PRO-LIFE STANCE. The actual truth to being PRO-LIFE. To be PRO-LIFE, you have to be PRO-CHOICE as the truth about PRO-CHOICE is letting a human appreciate how they want to live their life and appreciating their own say on the matter. To put it in words that are easier to understand, I inputted this mombo jumbo into GPT to explain it in Caveman:

To support life, you must let people choose how they live. Respect their choice and let them decide. That is true PRO-LIFE.

How is that a hard concept to understand? Like seriously? My parents support my career path to becoming involved heavily in post-production! Heck I'm still on that goal and still dreaming on working on my favorite show on Netflix, Wednesday! They were surprised back when I was a pre-teen about to be heading to high school for this to happen! I was a kid who loves to hold camcorders, a kid who edited a YouTube Poop which landed me into a one-day suspension from school, and a kid who loved making these every day. My parents accepted me for who I was especially since I grew up with autism and it was a new thing TO THEM. Heck even with my Wednesday video gaining traction, my Mom accepted me for being non-binary! So you tell me then, answer me the following: Do you think for just a second that you're doing the right thing by throwing kids like us out? Do you think you're justified in abandoning your own flesh and blood just because they don't fit into your narrow-minded ideals? Newsflash: you're not. You're failing at the most basic level of parenthood. You brought a life into this world; you don't get to just walk away when things get tough or when your child's identity challenges your beliefs. I never watched the Saw movies, but I do seen the complexities of the character John Kramer, the infamous Jigsaw killer. Say what you want, but is he wrong about how we should appreciate life?

To appreciate life, it's means to value all life. All HUMAN life, including the individuality and identity of the next generation. Whether it's your kid you birthed, or a kid passing by, the fact is they are their own soul. You don't control other people's souls, you have to appreciate their own life by their own choices. It's this freedom to be themselves. Letting children grow into their true selves.

Parents, your role if you birth a kid is so straightforward it is astounding how you ignore this.

This isn't about you. I've been on this planet for 25 years now. 25 years. We get it, parenting is hard. My parents had to adapt with my autistic video making non-binary self. They supported everything that I do. You chose to bring a child into this world. You owe them love, support, and acceptance UNCONDITIONALLY. Anything less is a failure on your part, not theirs, YOURS. Disowning your child is the ultimate act that makes you no different then a murderer who kills people just for being different. It's choosing your comfort over their happiness. I would never leave any next generation of mine out to die, and I will accept who they are no matter what they are regardless of interest, disabilities, and identity. I also find it hilarious when this happens, they happened to label them as groomers. Last I checked, the definition of it on every dictionary is "to make (someone) ready for a specific objective". (Verb Definition 3a on Webster's Dictionary for example) Sure it has been co-opted with the abusive nature, but the original definition set is stone is forcing someone onto a specific act. So if you disown a kid for not conforming to your standards on the basis of identity or something else, remember that you, in fact, are the one trying to "groom" them into your image. And if your kid is LGBT, well, that is telling on yourself at this rate, because under this logic and definition that's been there since the dawn of time... you, the parent who disowned them, are the real groomers here and the kids you raised are doing as you said, protecting themselves from groomers like you. You excuse and shift blame onto other people when you are the living definition of it raising your kid in your own image instead of living their own lives. And yes. I fucking said it. It deserves to be said. I stand by this notion.

In this current climate, where LGBT hate is on the rise and intolerance is being amplified by those in power, it's more crucial than ever for parents to stand up and protect their children. And if you are a kid and your parents are like this, abusing you, grooming you into their own perfect image, call them out, because this toxic generational trauma has to end. The world is already a harsh and dangerous place for anyone who doesn't fit into the so-called 'norm.' Take it from me, a neurodivergent who has to mask just to get through. Imagine how much worse it becomes when the very people who are supposed to love and protect you turn their backs on you. Oh to all those deadbeat parents I mentioned, Mike Martin (DaddyOFive), Elon Musk, Kelli Stapleton, Alison Singer, and others. Yeah they are hitmakers, advocates, and superstars in their minds, but to end it with a familiar Kendrick Lamar lyric, they are "fucking deadbeat that should never say more life."

I hope you read that Kendrick Lamar lyric well, because if you disown your kids just for being who they are, you shouldn’t say you’re “for the kids”.

I beg you parents of old and new, please take these words seriously. No kid would ever want a parent like that.

Good night.

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grits-galraisedinthesouth · 8 months ago

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Canellecitadelle @Canellelabelle

The British public is a hard public to win over. We judge harshly first and are cold and guarded first. But once, you have earned a spot in our heart, you have earned one in our home; and this is exactly what Catherine has done with 2 decades in the spotlight.

For a Commoner marrying the Heir of the most high profile Monarchy in the world, the task of adapting was a matter of survival. Yet, she looks, sounds and acts with more elegance, more dignity and more alacrity than Blood Royals themselves. And yet, this kind and honest young woman, who has never put a foot wrong in 20 years, was still viciously crucified this week by the world press; led by the British press and by haters online, all the while recovering from major surgery

If the worse crime Catherine has ever done, after spotlessly behaving for 2 decades is editing her OWN mother's day picture, with her OWN children and taken by her OWN husband, so she could post it on her OWN social media to surprise the world on Mother's day with her health improvement and say "thank you" to us for our support; a "thank you" the world violently spit back in her face out of rabid jealousy and bitterness; then I would like to hand her her sainthood in the house of Windsor: she is truly perfection in a very imperfect world judging her and in a very imperfect Royal family watching her

As bad as her vicious enemies try to break her, Catherine always comes back on top. Life challenges taught her to make the sweetest lemonade out of the most bitter lemons

Today, after all the targeted hate campaigns, she still comes on top as the Nation favorite and most loved Royal, in both the YouGov poll in the UK and Ipsos poll in the US

Her Influence has only become even more massive, worldwide. Catherine is cultural Icon of our time. The name "Kate Middleton" is now a very marketable brand that stands on its own and even, has the power of affecting Stocks

The Adobe stocks were trending at 552.45 on Monday morning. After rumours trended on X that she used adobe clouds to edit her picture, by monday evening, adobe stocks were trending at 561.42, adding $3 Billion in value to adobe stock in half a day

This morning, they were up to 579.14

Catherine's name alone is now a powerful Royal Warrant on its own

Her first official return picture on X broke the internet for almost a week straight and was viewed 82 million times in 48 hours on X alone. The biggest account on X, elon Musk with 175 mil followers got on a highest viewed tweet this year of 66mill views

Her Haters did not hurt her, they made her stronger. Bullied her whole life, first by female classmates at age 12 in school, then harrassed nationally by the british press and paparazzi in her 20s for being prince William's girlfriend, to now being viciously targeted internationally by the world press and haters in her 40s as prince William's wife, Catherine is very familiar with mental abuse and bullying. Yet, she has never embraced the victim mentality, she is a victor. She is confident enough to publicly take accountability for her own mistakes, and confident enough to calmy get on with it; In that, she is British to her core

The commoner they snobbed and despised has now taken over the House of Windsor, Her soft power unmatched; She has now inserted the generations of Coal miners and working class brits, who worked slave wages to build this country into the veins of the most privileged royal family in the world. Her son, Prince George is the first Heir in history with working class and coal miners ancestry in his veins. And in that Carole middleton, who was born in a condemned council flat in southhall and still became a self made millionaire; the one the world mocked and bullied for decades for being too low class for Royalty; The one who is currently in windsor caring for William, Catherine and their children with unwaverring love and loyalty; she at last won the last laugh

12:51 PM · Mar 13, 2024

#Canellecitadelle #Canellelabelle #kate effect #catherine princess of wales #princess catherine #prince and princess of wales #princess of wales #Catherine effect #billion dollar princess #billion dollar royal baby effect #adobe stocks #get well Catherine #prince william #mothering sunday

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justpoliteconversations · 10 months ago

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Cuddles [Wind + Father Figure]

More self-indulgent trash for the pile.

Cuddles [Mother Figure]

Masterlist

Character: Wind (Linked Universe)

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

Surprisingly, it takes longer for Wind to approach a male figure with the intention of cuddling than a female. With how quickly he warmed up to the Chain you'd assume he'd take to another potential brother (father) figure far easier.

However, the Chain are his brothers in spirit, connected by purpose and the blessing of the Goddesses: something arguably even stronger than precious blood. You, on the other hand, are a stranger to him.

It does not work in your favor that he has had very little in the way of adult men in his life. Partners in crime at the best of times, but mostly background characters to fill out the space between evil induced trauma. Nothing concrete though. Nothing that's ever stayed.

The breakthrough will likely be once you take the first step. Perhaps you gently wake him while he's having a nightmare, perhaps you take inititive to comfort him after an especially tough battle. Something that marks you as safe in his mind, someone he can rely on.

It is nothing against you personally. Hyrulians are a people heavily seeped in warrior culture (Wind's being no exception). Progressive as they seem to be overall, that does not completely negate their views of gender. One of those being that men are less likely to take an interest in children not their own blood.

And, at the worst of times, it is simply accepted that unknown men are dangerous. The timelines are rife with civil wars and the atrocities that arise from such unrest. Hyrulian males (whose biology make them physically stronger than their female counterparts) are often front and center to these happenings. Being from a Hyrule that adheres to Pirate culture, Wind understands this on some level even if he's never experienced it himself.

None of this matters anymore though because you have proved yourself as safe. You are now free real estate.

It'll start slow. He'll move his bedroll closer to yours, testing the waters and eyeing you curiously when he thinks you aren't looking. He'll observe your posture, your tone, how receptive you are to being disturbed from your sleep.

Honestly, he's not as sneaky as he thinks he is. He's got quick hands and is good with his words when cornered, but he's never been especially good at hiding his curiosity. That being said, if you address him directly with patience and openness, the process will be much quicker.

By as soon as the third night, Wind can have his bedroll flush against yours. By the week, you may return one night after patrolling to find a fluffy head of blonde hair laid on your pillow. Not that he meant to steal your spot, he'd just been so tired and the pillow had smelt so familiar. It'd made him feel so safe.

(A reminder of the man who'd been ripped from his life too soon. Whose strong musk had lingered on too big clothes and too cold bedding for weeks after.)

If you move him gently to one side and curl yourself protectively around his soft, sleeping form, when morning comes you will be met with an wide, hopeful expression. You will find his small hands wrapped warmly around one of yours. His ears pinned back uncertainly, eyes searching for disapproval or anger.

Tell him good morning, ruffle his feather soft hair and Wind will not leave your side for the rest of the day.

"Sorry 'bout that Mister! I was just resting my eyes! Promise!"

When time for sleep comes again he will stand by your bedroll, hands clenched in his shirt and eyes hopeful. He will wait for your approval because he doesn't know how to ask for this kind of familial affection from a man not bound to him by destiny.

Wind has a grandmother and a sister, both females. He has 7 brothers and a pseudo-father in Time, ordained by the Goddesses themselves.

Split between several traumatized young adults and divine duty, it's hard to give enough attention to any one boy. Even for someone like Time (especially for someone like Time).

This will be the first time that Wind approaches another male. Not as a hero or a brother or a spiritual part of a whole, but as Wind. A hurt, scared young boy with too much weight on his shoulders for all that Time tries to halve the burden.

"H-Hey, Mister! It's kinda cold tonight! Ya mind sharin'?"

If you accept, you have now become dad number two of the chain and all that entails. Congratulations and prepare yourself because Time will expect your full cooperation in wrangling his pack of gremlins (Man is tired. He needs a break). Chief among them, Wind. Now officially, but unofficially, your problem.

Also, your bedroll is no longer your bedroll.

"I'll set up the bedroll, Mister! Make sure to grab bread for me or 'Rulie'll eat it all!"

It becomes an 'our bedroll' type of situation.

"No take backs! You agreed!"

Despite what you'd expect from a boy like Wind, with a father figure he's surprisingly passive. He'll hide his face in your shoulder, cheeks and nose pressed against your neck or tucked up under your chin. His fist will softly clutch at your sleep shirt, but he won't grab at you as he would a mother figure. Instead, he waits to be held. He wants to be reassured.

You see, whereas with a woman he expects comfort, with a man he's seeking safety. That security that had been stripped from him too young and left him to fill the role of protector in place of a man with shoes too big for a young boy.

Subconsciously, he's slotted you into that role. The protector. It doesn't matter how strong you actually are, this sense of safety he experiences from being coddled in your arms is instinctual (though if you're on the bigger side, muscle or otherwise, it'll intensify that feeling).

As a side note, the first time you actually hold him may give you pause. He is a small child, body spindly in the way only a potent cocktail of adolescence, malnutrition and prolonged neglect can produce (for all the Wild has been putting his best foot forward). It can be compared to cradling a baby bird in your hands, small and fragile warmth nearly weightless in your grasp.

"I ain't got bird's bones! I'm just growin' at my own pace, is all!"

One last thing. He's going to cry. It won't be often and it might not be much, but with the newfound feeling of security pulling so strongly at his repressed trauma it's inevitable.

How you respond will mean everything to him. You're his brother (father- protector) now. Of course you'll teach him how a man should act.

"I ain't gonna cry! The smoke's jus' in my eyes! I- Wh-why ya looking at me like that. Hey! Ya can't jus' hug a guy like that without warning! O-o-or he'll... he'll..."

(P.S. If you have have facial hair, he'll pull it. Just saying. You have been duly warned.)

---

My work here is done. I retreat to the shadows to rest now.

#linked universe #linked universe wind #lu wind #cuddling

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constantinerkives · 1 year ago

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The Mobster's Tango (teaser)

PAIRING: Mobster Karina x Rival gangs's daughter! Reader

WARNINGS: Criminal undertones, organized crime, no one is morally upright in this one-shot, enemies to lovers, dark Karina, cosa nostra AU, more warnings to come lmao

SYNOPSIS: Her eyes would darken when she's having fun, her lips curl up when she smiles, and all that beautiful, black hair. That's what hatred looks like, perfect and inhumane. Or that's what you think it is.

"Y/N," Your name rolls off her tongue like a siren's song, and her dark eyes gleam with mischief and mystery as she pulls you into the dance floor.

"Leaving so soon?"

Your face contorts to a strained smile, "Parties aren't my forte, Karina." You allow your eyes to trail downwards; Karina Yoo wore a black taupe overlapped collar-blazer, exposing her toned, thin waist, and archive black trousers and heels that increased her already-towering stature. Her black, luscious hair falls like a dark waterfall. She wore minimal makeup and jewelry but still managed to look begrudgingly gorgeous.

"A shame," She mocks, noticing the way your eyes trail on her, and grins as she leads the dance with you following her step. "You look good in your dress." It was her turn now to shamelessly trail her eyes to the curves of your dress, making you feel naked and exposed to the new godmother of the Yoo Family.

"It'll be a shame not to flaunt it tonight, don't you think?" She continues as she spins you. "I think people have seen me enough," You argued before attempting to pull away from her, but she tightened her grip around your hand and gracefully pulled you back to her - her actions made your front collide against hers with a muffled grunt.

Her perfume invades your sense of smell with top notes of mulberry and black peony followed by middle notes of jasmine and tuberose with hints of black musk and vetiver base notes.

The scent suits her; sultry and alluring.

The older woman leans in, her lips brushing against your cheek, and her hot breath fans the outer shell of your ear - sending shivers down your spine as she whispers:

"Tell me, pretty girl," She rasped over the music, "What are you doing here in this farce of a fundraiser?"

Your hand that palms her back traverse upward. Your ears pick up her soft purr as you place your hand around the back of her neck and direct your face to her slim neck. "To raise funds, of course - I've bought and donated."

Karina's chest rumbles with a dark chuckle as she rakes her blunt nails to the roots of your hair and pulls it back, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as she looks down at you - abysmal eyes glazed and hooded. She leans close to the point that your lips are almost touching.

"We both that's a lie, krasnaya." She rasped, her Slavic tongue. Rough and powerful."

You grin at her in return, "What makes you say that, volchitsa?" You only know little about her language, but the way Karina's obsidian eyes dilated, and her face lit up with morbid excitement. "Because I know who you are, Seong Y/N, and how you operate - and judging by the way you and Yeonjun walked together - he gave you something that's related to the Bratva."

You mask your surprise and ignore the way our pulse quickens.

"How presumptuous of you, Karina Yoo."

The black-haired beauty scoffs, "Don't deny it, Y/N. Where is it?"

You ground your jaw as she sweeps you swiftly as the tempo changes to a quicker rhythm. You flaunt your eyelashes at her and incline your head to the right, "What are you talking about?"

The Russian girl hums before she spins you around, and this time, you didn't try to run from her grasp and even place both hands on her broad, wide shoulders.

Her eyes scan your features, "It's dangerous for you to keep something of me, Y/N - you and I have enemies."

"And what does that have to do with me?" You inquire sardonically. Karina squeezes your hips, "That they'll kill for just a bit of information from me - and whatever Yeonjun gave you - is enough for them to hunt you."

"So," You're taken aback as her cruel expression softens - pleading, almost. "Give it to me, lyubeemaya." She brushes her knuckles against your cheek, the gesture lulling you to a false sense of softness.

But you know better than to fall for it.

______________

Read the full part HERE

#karina x reader #kpop imagines #female reader #kpop oneshots #constantinewrites #aespa x reader #yoo jimin x reader #yu jimin

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performativezippers · 7 months ago

Note

Could you share your thoughts about beats in writing, please?

OKAY HERE WE GOOOOO this is going to be long but honestly it could have been so much longer so oops!

tl;dr: Beats are when things in the story happen.

So in a mystery novel, for example, when does the crime occur? when do they think they've solved it, but they're wrong? when do they realize they were wrong? when is their life in danger? when do they know who did it? when does the reader know who did it? when is the b-plot introduced and when it is resolved?

These typically happen in a similar place in each mystery novel, because of course it wouldn't make sense if it went: (1) you think you know who did it, and then (2) the crime is committed. Right? or if the very first person they suspected did it and they catch them immediately! that's never what happens because then what's the other 200 pages of the book?

so there is relative order, and you know it even as a passive reader, so then the question is how spaced out are those things throughout the fic or manuscript?

in a romance, it's the same. typically we see:

meet cute/first meeting/first canon meeting (the pilot) e.g. alex meets maggie at the airport and they fight over jurisdiction, or jane and maura work a case together as usual but it's the first one where jane is scared, aka a new start to their existing relationship

why aren't they together off the bat? (aka why is this a romance novel and not a romance sentence?) e.g. alex thinks she's straight and they're good friends, or maura dates elon musk types and jane is, you know, not that

complication e.g. alex comes out and then asks maggie to be her gf but maggie says no because alex is fresh off the boat, or maura starts dating jane's dumbass brother

false high (if there is a third act breakup, this is the happy time before that) e.g. alex and maggie get together and are very happy kissing the girls they want to kiss, or maura dumps tommy because her life with jane is more important to her

low point (this is often the 3rd act breakup, but doesn't have to be) e.g. alex freaks out when family conflicts with romance and dumps maggie, or jane kills maura's dad

KISS KISS KISS (aka the happily ever after) e.g. alex apologizes and sanvers stays together forever because the show was cancelled, or jane performs surgery on maura in the woods and then they kiss forever because the show was cancelled

SO, all of those things have to happen, and beats are when. you can of course put your plot points whenever you want them. it's your life and your art and your hobby!! have fun! but if you want to learn "craft" or whatever, or get traditionally published, you need to know when the conventional beats for your genre are, so that you can show you know what you're doing.

You've noticed beats even if you haven't thought about them. Sometimes a fanfic feels like it's going on too long or ending too abruptly, which is because they didn't place their beats carefully. Maybe it's taking forever to get past the set-up, and then the ending feels rushed. Maybe they got to the end of the plot but kept writing little one-shots or vignettes that don't have any tension in them. Almost all pacing problems can be solved by beats!

There are two main beat sheets I use for writing romcoms, Save the Cat and Romancing the Beat. There are book and workshops for both. My spreadsheet I use for every book uses Save the Cat beats, which was originally developed for screenplays. Here's a screenshot of that from the spreadsheet i use religiously:

I try to focus on

inciting incident at 0 or 10% (catalyst)

fun and games 25-50%

mid point high right around 50%

Things get bad from 50-75 until dark night of the soul from 75-80%

Redemption 80-90%, climax around 90%, final snippet less than 1,000 after end of climax

I do the math on my word count and ideal final word count to reverse outline where i am. in my book that's going to be published, i was really struggling with how to fill the 50-75% chunk; it was perfectly paced up until the shattering of the false high at 50%, and I knew what would happen after the dark night of the soul at 75%, but my project was to figure out how i could keep the plot driving forward and interesting while the MC's mood and situation tanked for a full 25% of the book. It turns out in the most recent draft, that stuff is 52-86%, and is stuff i really love. i was able to work in other plot points earlier that had time to breathe and got the space they needed in that portion, as well as find the balance between 20k of boring moping and maintaining tension while the romance was tanked.

it's very very hard to use beats in a fic you're posting as you're writing it (which is most of the fics i post), but even having it in the back of my mind helps. For the Ultimatum fic i'm writing and posting now, i knew before i started posting what the midpoint false high would be, plus the dark night of the soul, plus the endgame. it's important to make sure any b-plots, or in the case other couples, get their shit resolved around the same times as Kacy does, so that we don't need too much wrap up/exposition after the kacy climax.

what other questions or thoughts do you have about beats and plot pacing? send them to me!

#ask zipps #writing advice #writing fiction #writing fanfiction #writing original fiction #writing beats #save the cat #romancing the beat

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nerdieforpedro · 8 months ago

Text

Missing My Baby

Marcus Pike x Reader

Summary: You’re missing your fiance Marcus while he away. Having time alone isn’t good for everyone.

Word Count: 543

Warnings: loneliness, depression, obsession, angst (did Nerdie manage this?!)

Notes: Written for the Selena Drabble Challenge put together by the wonderful @fhatbhabie 💕

Main Masterlist / Writing Challenges / Marcus Pike Masterlist

He’s gone. Not permanently of course. Marcus, your sweet fiance is in France, one of the most romantic places on earth. Why are you not with him? It’s for work, he’s part of a team dispatched to the Louvre Museum to study different arts and methods of identifying pieces from different time periods.

His excitement was written all over his face when he came home and told you. Of course you were proud of him, you always are. Outside of him being an FBI agent in the art crimes division (sounds like he could have his own TV from that alone), he’s so patient, kind and understanding. He’s also one of the most handsome men you’ve had the pleasure of knowing, both with facial hair and without.

It’s been a full month and you swear you’re fine. It’s what you keep telling yourself, family, friends and Marcus. You ensure your best self is shown to him. If there’s one thing that worries you about Marcus is that he can be rather selfless when it comes to marking out time for himself in his own schedule. You had encouraged him to go, do something for himself and that you’d hold down the fort of your two bedroom apartment.

After another FaceTime call with your dear special agent, you drag yourself to his side of the bed, laying on your side so you can breathe in his scent. It’s a light musk that’s mixed with pine based off of the body wash he uses. Unfortunately tonight, you’ve been sleeping on his side of the bed one too many times and it smells more like you than him. Sitting up on the side of the bed, you take hold of his pillow and laugh at how silly you’re being. You’re an adult, so is he. He’s only gone for work, it’s an excellent opportunity for him.

Your chest still hurts though. It doesn’t stop your face from contorting with tears. This is making you wonder if you should just tell him to come home. You could, and you know with all certainty that Marcus would be on the next plane home.

He would never leave again unless he took you with him. That makes you smile, but your head is buried deep into the pillow. You need to believe he’s coming home safe. Things will go fine and he’ll be back in two more weeks. Just because you miss him doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be allowed his own advancement and interests.

But the same part of you that misses him want to have him tethered to you so you can hold him tight, never let him out of your sight. You’d be able to feel his heartbeat next to yours and tell him over and over that you love him. Don’t go anywhere again Marcus.

“Time keeps passing by. I’m missing my baby…Missing my baby, weighs on my mind…”

Your tears continue to wet his pillow as you stand and begin to pace the room, keeping your eyes trained on a photo the two of you took on your six-month anniversary at the Smithsonian.

“Missing my baby, missing my baby. I’ve gotta have you here by my side and hold you tight. I miss you Marcus…”

Pike pool swimmers (safety first!) 🛟: @secretelephanttattoo @trulybetty @magpiepillsjunior @i-own-loki @morallyinept @pedritapascal @yorksgirl @goodwithcheese @marcus-is-my-muse @megamindsecretlair @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @pamasaur @pedroshotwifey @missladym1981 @harriedandharassed @maggiemayhemnj

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #agnst #selena quintanilla perez #missing you #Selena Drabble challenge #Nerdie fic

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