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parkerslatte · 1 year

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Songbird || ELEVEN

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.5k

Part Summary: Y/N works towards her album when things go drastically downhill.

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‘‘‘

TRACK ELEVEN;

DON’T ACT LIKE YOU DON’T KNOW

…

Y/N L/N: You know those times when everything is going almost too perfectly? Well I was having one of those.

…

It was early in the morning, about seven, and Y/N was at the studio having a discussion with Teddy. She was surprised when he had called her, she wasn’t needed at the studio at any point that week so she knew it must’ve been important.

“So what’s going on?” Y/N questioned.

“Well, I had a talk with the label and they agreed with me.” Teddy begins

“With what?”

“That it’s about time you cut an album.” Teddy says with a smile.

“No way!” Y/N exclaimed, “You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking.” Teddy says.

“Oh my god!” Y/N exclaims, hugging Teddy.

“Try and write some things over the next few days and then we’ll have another meeting to discuss everything.” Teddy says.

“I will, I definitely will.” Y/N says, a wide smile on her face.

When Y/N got back to the house, she was elated. She was finally getting everything she wanted.

“What made you so happy?” Warren questioned.

“I’m making a fucking album!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Are you serious?” Warren asked, smiling.

Y/N nodded and Warren gave her a hug. The two continued to sway in the kitchen for a moment, arms around each other. Y/N hadn’t seen much of Warren recently, every time she was around him, Eddie wouldn’t be too far away and Y/N wanted to avoid him as much as possible.

“You know what this means right?” Warren said.

“What?”

“We’ll be fighting for the number one album.” Warren says.

Y/N laughs pulling away from Warren, “I’ve had two number one singles, you’ve only had one, I’m already a step ahead.”

“What’s going on here?” Eddie questioned, suddenly appearing.

Everyone suddenly got quiet. The whole band knew that something had happened between Y/N and Eddie but no one had mentioned it, hoping that whatever it was would resolve itself.

“I’m making an album.” Y/N finally answers, “I had a meeting with Teddy earlier.”

Eddie nodded, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Y/N says, sensing the awkward atmosphere she cleared her throat, “I’m just gonna head to my room and work on a few songs.”

Y/N left in a haste leaving Eddie and Warren standing in the kitchen.

“Okay, man, what is all this about?” Warren finally asked.

“What’s what about?” Edde says, getting a beer from the fridge.

“You and Y/N,” Warren says, “One minute you’re all over each other and the next you won’t even look each other in the eye.”

“Nothing happened,” Eddie answered, “We’re fine.”

“Well you both have a funny way of showing it,” Warren says, “Whatever is going on with you two, fix it.”

Warren walked out the kitchen leaving Eddie alone.

***

Y/N L/N: I don’t think I left my room at all for the next couple of days, Karen brought me food when I forgot. I had ink staining my hands, countless pens scattered around the bin because I missed when they ran out of ink. I devoted all of my time to writing my songs, never taking a break for myself.

WARREN ROJAS: I was worried about Y/N, she wasn’t herself lately and she never came out of her room. I know that she was writing songs for her album but she just kind of forgot to take care of herself. I think it was only me and Karen that noticed.

…

The door to Y/N’s room opened and Warren stood in the doorway. Y/N looked up, bags under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“Get your jacket, we’re going to the movies.” Warren says.

“I thought you were meant to be at the studio?” Y/N says.

“Daisy and Billy had an argument about the album so Teddy sent them away,” Warren explains, “So we have a day off.”

“So take someone else to the movies, I’m busy.” Y/N says.

“No, I’m taking you,” Warren says, “You’ve been locked in here since you had that meeting with Teddy.”

“Because I need to get these songs perfect, Warren.” Y/N says.

“And they probably already are,” Warren says, grabbing Y/N’s arm and dragging her up from the bed, “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

Sighing, Y/N got to her feet and slowly made her way over to her closet and pulled out a jacket and grabbed her shoes. As she put them on she let out a long yawn.

“When was the last time you slept?” Warren says.

“I had a couple hours earlier,” Y/N says, “I haven’t had a proper night's sleep.”

Warren sighed before walking out of Y/N’s room, “I’ll meet you outside.”

Y/N nodded before she sat down on her bed to put her shoes on. Shrugging her jacket on, she stepped out into the hallway and directly into Eddie.

“Sorry,” She mumbled.

“No, it’s fine-” Eddie says, “Hey, are you okay?”

Y/N looked up at Eddie, his eyebrows furrowed together in concern. His hand was still gently holding onto her upper arm as he spoke and Y/N was fully aware of it.

“I’m fine.” Y/N answered.

“No you’re not.” Eddie says softly.

Y/N looked down and before she had a chance to answer, Warren’s voice echoed throughout the house, “Y/N, Eddie, come on, we don’t want to miss it.”

“You’re coming too?” Y/N questioned as they walked down the hallway.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “Warren asked me to come earlier. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine.” Y/N says.

Eddie simply nodded as the two met up with Warren who was waiting outside, “Finally, I don’t want to miss the movie.”

Y/N chuckled a little, “You’ve already seen it once.”

“Yeah, but it’s a fucking masterpiece.”

Y/N shook her head before she got into the van.

***

As Y/N sat down in her seat she couldn’t help but be fully aware of Eddie’s arm pressed up against hers. Despite still wearing her jacket her entire arm was on fire. By the time the film started, Y/N could barely concentrate on it, the only thing she could concentrate on was Eddie’s arm.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Eddie was feeling the same way. He constantly snuck looks at Y/N out of the corner of his eye, deep down he was hoping she noticed. His body was rigid and he didn’t move, afraid that if he moved, Y/N would become aware and move away on her own.

“This is the best bit.” Warren whispered into Y/N’s ear.

Y/N only nodded and continued to watch the film, although all the dialogue went in one ear and out of the other. She was too distracted. As the film ended, Warren was immediately up and heading to the bathroom, leaving Y/N and Eddie alone.

The two stood around waiting for Warren who was taking his time. Neither of them said anything but they wanted to say everything at the same time. As soon as the two made eye contact, Eddie immediately broke.

“Can we try to go back to how we were before, y’know like before everything?” Eddie says. Deep down he didn’t want to, all he wanted to do was pull Y/N in his arms and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe, but as far as he knew, Y/N didn’t want that.

Y/N sighed, “Eddie-”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but-but I can’t stand not talking to you. I feel awful about not talking to you after it happened and I regret that.” Eddie says.

“It’s okay,” Y/N says.

“It’s not and I know it’s not,” Eddie says, stepping closer to Y/N, “Can we at least try to get things back on track?”

Y/N paused, she wanted to, no she needed to. But there was something inside stopping her and she couldn’t explain what it was. She knew that no matter how hard they tried, nothing would go back to how it was before. The damage was already done. Whatever relationship the two had would never be the same.

“We can try.” Y/N says, offering him a small smile.

Eddie nodded, however he wasn’t fully satisfied with the answer.

“You two ready to go?” Warren questioned.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” Y/N says and the three walked out the movie theatre.

***

As Y/N, Warren and Eddie stepped foot back in the house, Y/N felt a litle better than she did when she left that afternoon. Her relationship with Eddie was better, it wasn’t completely fixed but they worked on moving past everything and hopefully moving on. Despite this agreement, Y/N didn’t want to move on, she wanted to figure out her feelings because she knew that what she was feeling for Eddie wasn't normal.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Warren exclaimed, making his way to the living room.

“Hey.” Warren greeted Graham and Karen who sat on the couch, “You guys heard from Billy yet?”

“Uh no.” Graham says as the phone continues to ring.

“Is anyone going to pick that up?” Y/N questions.

Eddie looks at her before picking up the phone, “Hello? Okay…yeah sure, no problem. Mm-hmm. Be right there.”

Eddie places the phone back down and everyone remains in silence waiting for Eddie to speak, “That was Teddy.”

“What’d he say?” Warren questions.

“He says that he wants us at the studio,” Eddie says, “And to bring Y/N.”

“Me? Why me?” Y/N asks.

“I don’t know, he didn’t say.” Eddie answers.

“Do you think Daisy and Billy managed to write together peacefully?” Graham questions as the group exits the house.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” Y/N answers as they all piled in the van.

***

When everyone walked into the studio, Daisy and Billy sat there laughing together to the surprise of everyone. Y/N shared a look of shock with Graham. As the band entered, the laughter between Daisy and Billy died down.

Y/N headed over to the booth to Teddy, “Eddie said you wanted me here too?”

“I do,” Teddy says, a sombre tone to his voice, “It’s about your album, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a lot of things written that I can’t wait to show you and-”

“It’s not going ahead, Y/N.” Teddy says.

The smile falls from Y/N’s face, “What?”

“Billy doesn’t want to play guitar on stage and he says that you’re a good guitarist.” Teddy says.

“I am but what does this have to do with my album?” Y/N says, her voice cracking.

“Billy doesn’t want to play guitar on stage and he says that you are a good guitarist.” Teddy says, “So I am asking you if you want to join the band.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Y/N says, anger lacing her tone, “You want me to join the band.”

“The label isn't putting any money towards your album, Y/N,” Teddy explains, “In their words, not mine, they don’t want to waste their time on a solo artist while they can invest money into the band. Billy wants you to join the band as the rhythm guitarist.”

“Wasting their time?” Y/N says, her voice harsh, “I’ve had two number one singles that people love and request to play on the radio all the time, they’ve only had one. I’ve worked my ass off to get where I am and you’re what? Just giving up on me. Because I can tell you for a fact that Billy doesn’t want me in the band, this is all you Teddy for a way of sparing my feelings,” Y/N lowered her voice into a low whisper, “And that’s bullshit.”

Storming out of the building and into the fresh air, Y/N let out a scream of frustration. Everything she had been working towards had been just flushed away in the matter of seconds.

The doors opened and Y/N didn’t even bother turning around, “Don’t even fucking bother Teddy, I’m done.”

“You’re done?” Came the voice of Billy Dunne.

Y/N laughed but there was no humour behind it, “You are the last person I want to see.”

“Y/N just come and join the band.” Billy called out to her.

“You don’t even want me in the band, you don’t even like me Billy, why are you suddenly trying to convince me otherwise.” Y/N exclaims.

“You’re Camila’s best friend,” Billy says, “I’m only allowing you to join because of her.”

“Wow! ‘Allowing me?’” Y/N mocks, “How many times have I told you people that I don’t want to be a band, never have, never will.”

“You know most people would kill for this opportunity.” Billy says, stepping closer, “And you’re just throwing it away like it’s nothing.”

“I am,” Y/N says, “Because I know exactly what will happen, I will be pushed to the side, everyone will, and it will literally be the Billy Dunne show, like it always has been.”

Billy rolled his eyes, “Y’know you are an ungrateful bitch when you want to be.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Billy says, “You’re ungrateful, you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter and you take it for granted.”

“I have not had everything handed to me on a silver platter, I would say that you’re mistaking that for yourself,” Y/N hissed, “Oh look, Billy Dunne doesn’t want to play guitar let’s get a new guitarist so he can freely prance about on the stage.”

Billy chuckled, “You want to know something, Y/N? You wouldn’t have the career you have now if it wasn’t because of me. I’m the one that gave Teddy your tape to listen to. Your number one singles wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for me. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be working in that record shop performing to the same ten people over and over again until you gave up and realised that you weren’t good enough.”

“I fucking hate you, Billy Dunne.” Y/N says, a single tear slipped down her cheek.

“Yeah, well the feeling’s mutual.” Billy says, “Now, if you don’t join the band, Y/N, your career isn’t going anywhere, the label is going to drop you. I’m giving you a chance here.”

***

As the two walked back into the studio, Y/N followed behind Billy. As the two entered all the attention turned to them. Y/N was seething with anger, but she didn’t allow it to show, she kept it bottled up.

“Everyone, I have an announcement.” Billy says.

From the corner of her eye, Y/N saw Eddie trying to get her attention but she ignored him, she ignored everyone.

“Y/N is joining the band as our new rhythm guitarist.” Billy says a fake smile on his face.

Everyone around her broke into smiles and applause, but Y/N didn’t react. Everyone shared looks with one another and slowly Warren’s smile faded as he noticed the expression on Y/N's face.

“What about Y/N’s album?” He questioned.

When Y/N didn’t answer, that was enough of an answer for Warren.

“So, for this song Y/N, this is what you’re going to do…”

Y/N listened, though she continued to stare forwards at the wall, no emotion on her face. At that point in time she only thought one thing. I fucking hate Billy Dunne.

Taglist:

@itsthegamemaster @pinkdaiisies @atrimmunson @siredstiless @jihyoforlife @accidrainonme @meet-me-backstage @littlehoneyfreak

- strike through could not be tagged -

- add yourself to he taglist on the form linked above -

#eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie loving #eddie loving x reader #daisy jones and the six #Daisy Jones and the six x reader #josh whitehouse

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coneyislandbabey · 1 year

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the pick-me-up. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: me possibly butchering some spanish (sorry guys I only speak English and Italian)

SYNOPSIS: Life has been wearing you and Warren down lately, but Mariposa saying her first word really brings up your spirits word count: 1,138

NOTES: Written for this request! Part of the mariposaverse, other related fics can be found on my masterlist.

You and Warren were exhausted.

After nearly a year of raising your daughter, Mariposa, in the falling-apart house that several of your other bandmates also lived in, the two of you had finally found a house of your own. It was perfect, all warm wood and huge windows and a beautiful backyard brimming with greenery, and only a few streets away from the old house. You were so wrapped up in the euphoria of starting this new chapter of your lives, that you forgot what absolute hell moving could be.

And absolute hell it was. Unpacking was proving to be a very slow process, considering that you both were at the studio so often recording an album. Tonight, the two of you were sitting on the floor of the living room, eating Chinese takeout on the coffee table while surrounded by yet-to-be unpacked cardboard boxes. The news was playing on the television but the sound was turned off, reducing the whole thing to meaningless talking heads and cuts to the occasional photo or video. Mariposa was in her highchair nearby, playing with her mashed banana more than she was eating it.

“Looking at these boxes is making me want to die,” Warren announced sullenly around a bite of fried rice. You knew exactly how he felt, because you felt the same way. Unpacking all the boxes seemed like a monumental, insurmountable task.

“Maybe we should forget about unpacking them and just live with them?” you proposed.

Warren nodded sagely. “A new kind of decor, I like it.”

“Exactly,” you said, pointing your fork at him. “You get me.”

He laughed, but even that sounded weary. You took in the dark circles under his eyes and the tenseness of his muscles, knowing you looked the same. The last few weeks had been filled with hard, long days and barely any sleep. The worst part of it all was that you had hardly had time for each other, or even for Mariposa. It had you both feeling desperate and dejected, and you knew if something didn’t change soon, something was going to snap.

Behind you, Mariposa began babbling and smacking her hands on the tray of her highchair, signaling that she had gotten bored even of playing with her food. Sighing, you stood up and went to the kitchen wetting some paper towels so that you could clean her face and hands before setting her free.

“Okay, you, time to get ready for bed,” you cooed at her, gently grasping her wrist so you could clean her hand. Behind you, Warren stood up and began tidying after your dinner mess. Once clean, you lifted Mariposa and cradled her close to you, reveling in just having her in your arms for a moment.

You turned around to ask Warren if he needed any help cleaning before you took Mariposa to bed, but the baby in question interrupted you before you could speak. She lifted her chubby little arm towards Warren, making grabby hands at him.

“Papá!” She said, and you and Warren both froze.

“Did she just–?” he asked.

In response, she wriggled in your arms and said again, “Papá!”

Warren dropped the empty carton in his hand, his eyes widening.

“Oh my god, she just said her first word!” You squealed, looking down at the little girl in your arms in wonder. She was still making grabby hands at Warren, and he nearly tripped over the coffee table in his haste to get to her and pull her into his arms.

“I was her first word!” He shouted, a brilliant grin spreading across his face. He laughed, a sound of pure joy, and leaned over to smother her face in dozens of kisses. “¡¡Sí, soy tu papá!!”

Mariposa giggled, Warren’s mustache tickling her face, and you couldn’t help but laugh with her, overwhelmed by pride and excitement and love. Warren was cooing at Mariposa in Spanish, his voice so saccharine and full of affection, intermittently pressing a kiss to her chubby cheeks or into her curls.

He looked up at you, his eyes bright, more awake than you had seen him in weeks. “Baby, she said papá!”

“I know!” You shouted, possibly sounding even more excited than him. Mariposa was his whole world, she had been since the very minute you had told him you were pregnant, and you knew how much it meant to him that her first word was his name.

Warren reached toward you with the hand that wasn’t holding Mariposa, hooking one long finger through one of your belt loops and tugging you toward him. You laughed as you stumbled into his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed kisses into your cheek the way he had been doing to Mariposa a few moments earlier.

“My girls,” he mumbled, holding both of you to him as close as he could.

“Can you say papá again, baby?” you asked, tickling the bottom of Mariposa’s foot, but all she produced were more incoherent babbles.

“No, no, it’s time to rest that little genius brain. I bet she’ll say papá and mamá tomorrow,” Warren said. Your dinner mess was forgotten as the two of you walked down the hall to Mariposa’s nursery, getting her ready for bed together like you did every night.

Once she was in her crib, heavy eyelids dozing off toward sleep, the two of you crept back out into the hall, closing the door behind you. As it clicked closed, Warren wound his arms around you, head resting on your shoulder. You turned around in his arms, taking his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing circles on his cheeks.

“Guess we know who’s Mari’s favorite,” you whispered, beaming at him.

“No way,” Warren said seriously, “I’ve just been coaching her on how to say papá about a hundred times a day since she was born.”

You stifled a laugh at that, shaking your head. “She loves you so, so much, Warren. I love you so, so much. I love getting to watch you be such an amazing father for her.”

Warren’s eyes softened, his goofy grin sliding into something more serious at your words. “I’m only as good as I am because I have you by my side, you know that, right? You’re our glue, I’d be a mess without you. Even if things had been different, even if we never became parents together, I would be a mess without you.”

“I am way too tired and emotional for you to be saying things like that right now,” you joked with a watery laugh. “I love you, Warren. I’m so happy I get to be your glue.”

“I love you, too, mama,” he said, the grin returning to his face as he closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours.

tag list: @eonnyx @xleiaorgana

#daisy jones and the six #djats #warren rojas #warren rojas x reader #warren rhodes #warren rhodes x reader #eddie roundtree #eddie loving #graham dunne #camila dunne #julia dunne #karen sirko #karen karen #billy dunne

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thousandfireworks · 3 months

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Authors whose books you have to avoid because they are problematic.

Abigail Hing Wen.

Alex Aster.

Alice Hoffman.

Alice Oseman.

Alison Win Scotch. ‘Terrorism is never acceptable. Not in Israel.’

Allie Sarah.

Amber Kelly.

Amy Harmon.

Annabelle Monaghan.

Anna Akana.

Aurora Parker.

Benjamin Alire Sáenz.

Brandon Sanderson. Islamophobic.

Carissa Broadbent. Said that hamas is doing violence against innocence.

Chloe Walsh. Siding with Israel in the name of humanity.

Christina Lauren. Believe that Israel is the victim. A racist, also Islamophobic.

Colleen Hoover.

Cora Reilly. Travel to Israel despite criticism.

Danielle Bernstein. Islamophobic.

Danielle Lori.

Deke Moulton. Said hamas is terrorist.

Dian Purnomo.

Eliza Chan.

Elle Kennedy.

Elyssa Friedland.

Emily Henry.

Emily Mclntire.

Emily St. J. Mandel. Admiring Israel.

Gabrielle Zevin. Wrote a book about anti-Palestine. Mentioned Israel multiple times without context on his book.

Gregory Carlos. Israeli author. A zionist.

Hannah Whitten.

Hazel Hayes. Reposted a post about October 7th.

Heidi Shertok.

Jamie McGuire.

Jay Shetty. ‘Violence is happening in Israel.’

Jean Meltzer.

Jeffery Archer. Wrote a book with a mc Israel operative (mossad) in a positive and anti terrorist light.

Jennifer Hartman. Liked a post about pro-Israel.

Jen Calonita.

Jessa Hastings.

Jill Santopolo. Said that Israel has right to exist and fight back.

John Green.

Jojo Moyes.

J. Elle.

J. K. Rowling. Support genocide. Racist. Islamophobic.

Kate Canterbery.

Kate Stewart.

Katherine Howe.

Katherine Locke.

Kristin Hannah. Support Israel. Shared a donation link.

Laini Taylor.

Laura Thalassa. Islamophobic.

Lauren Wise. Cussed that Palestinian supporters would be raped in front of children.

Lea Geller. Thanked people who supports Israel.

Leigh Stein.

Lilian Harris. A racist. Blocking people who educates about colonialism in Palestine and call them disgusting.

Lisa Barr. A daughter of Holocaust survivor. Support Israel.

Lisa Kennedy Montgomery.

Lisa Steinke.

Liz Fenton.

Lynn Painter. Afraid of getting cancelled as a pro-Palestine and posted a template afterwards.

L. J. Shen. Her husband joins idf (Israel army).

Mariana Zapata.

Marie Lu.

Marissa Meyer.

Melissa de la Cruz.

Michelle Cohen Corasanti.

Michelle Hodkin. Spread false rumors about arab-hamas. Islamophobic.

Mitch Albom. ‘We shouldn't blame Israel for surviving attacks or defending against them.’

Monica Murphy. Siding with Israel.

Naomi Klein.

Navah Wolfe.

Neil Gaiman. Suggested Palestinians unite with Israel and become citizens.

Nicholas Sparks.

Nic Stone. Talked nonsense that children in Palestinian refugee camp are training to be martyrs for Allah because they felt it was their call in life.

Nyla K.

Olivia Wildenstein. Blocking people who disagree with Israel wrongdoing.

Pamela Becker.

Penelope Douglas.

Pierce Brown.

Rachel Lynn Solomon.

Rebecca G. Martinez.

Rebecca Yarros. ‘I despise violence’ her opinion about what's happening in Gaza. Blocking people who calls her a zionist.

Rena Rossner.

Renee Ahdieh.

Rick Riordan.

Rina Kent.

Rivka (noctem.novelle).

Rochelle Weinstein.

Romina Garber. ‘These terrorist attacks do nothing to improve the lives of Palestinians people.’

Roshani Chokshi. Encourage people to donate to Israel.

Samantha Greene Woodruff.

Sarah J. Mass. Her book contained ideology of zionism.

Stephanie Garber. Promoting books by zionist author (Sarah J. Mass)

Skye Warren.

Sonali Dev.

Talia Carner.

Tarryn Fisher. Said ‘there was terrorist attack in Israel.’

Taylor Jenkins Reid. Posted a video about genocide.

Tere Liye. Rumoured to have ghoswriters to write his books and never give credit to them.

Tillie Cole.

Tracy Deon.

Trinity Traveler (Ade Perucha Hutagaol). Rumour to wrote book about handsome Israelis.

T. J. Klune.

Uri Kurlianchik.

Veronica Roth.

Victoria Aveyard. ‘Israel has the right to exist.’ quote from her about the issue.

V. E. Schwab. Shared a donation link and video about Israel.

Yuval Noah. ‘Israel has the right to do anything to defend themselves.’

Zibby Owens.

#boycott israel #boycott zionist #free palestine

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etirabys · 9 months

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CS Lewis on rhetoric:

First, as to Manipulation. I do not think (and no great civilization has ever thought) that the art of the rhetorician is necessarily vile. It is in itself noble, though of course, like most arts, it can be wickedly used. I do not think that Rhetoric and Poetry are distinguished by manipulation of an audience in the one and, in the other, a pure self expression, regarded as its own end, and indifferent to any audience. Both these arts, in my opinion, definitely aim at doing something to an audience. And both do it by using language to control what already exists in our minds. The differentia of Rhetoric is that it wishes to produce in our minds some practical resolve (to condemn Warren Hastings or to declare war on Philip) and it does this by calling the passions to the aid of reason. It is honestly practised when the orator honestly believes that the thing which he calls the passions to support is reason, and use fully practised when this belief of his is in fact correct. It is mischievously practised when that which he summons the passions to aid is, in fact, unreason, and dishonestly practised when he himself knows that it is unreason. The proper use is lawful and necessary because, as Aristotle points out, intellect of itself 'moves nothing': the transition from thinking to doing, in nearly all men at nearly all moments, needs to be assisted by appropriate states of feeling.

#rambl #cs lewis #eti reads paradise lost

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mercurygray · 1 month

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Mistakes were made:

Just learned there was a William De Warrene at the Battle of Hastings. His family later went on to become the Earls of Surrey, and he originally hailed from Varenne, in Normandy.

Could have made a joke about the Bayeux tapestry and missed it.

#shopping for a fanfic #joan warren

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artdecosupernova-writing · 5 months

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Find the Word Game XXIV

tagged by: @space-writes last year lol 🙈 my words: inside, above, decay, bloom tagging: @drabbleitout, @drippingmoon, and open tag your words: find, leave, settle, march, begin, tough

inside (Eternal)—

[Warren] wanted to say something, anything, even though he knew this was a construct, a falsehood. He wanted to assure Hastings that he would not harm him. But he couldn't promise that. He watched Hastings, watched his chest rise and fall rapidly, too fast, and he couldn't tell him. He could not, and he pressed his tongue against the inside of his mouth to discover his jaw had been melded shut, a growth of bone where his teeth used to be, as if all of them fused together to become one. And then he took another look at Hastings. Another long look, really took in his presence in front of him. The snow fell, featherlight, fat flakes in the space keeping them apart. Warren's head angled, and a gathering of white-hot rage began to bubble up from within his core, at the pit of his stomach. All of his despair, all of his agony, everything that had ever been attributed to his former superior, coiling up into a tight ball of torrid hatred that rose to the center of his chest. He lifted the gun and fired. The bullet went through Hasting's skull, sending a spray of crimson blood and bone across the forest, onto trees, into the air.

above (Meridian)—

The clouds of the supernova grew closer. Venevans began to sob and clutch at each other. Evac volunteers fell to their knees, some praying, some cataplectic. Thoeala and Corin grabbed each others' hands tightly. Warren watched Thrive, ears popping. He'd quadrupled the shield, quintupled it, reached the horizon, used every ounce of his strength to push it farther out, to encompass the planet's orbit and protect the ships hovering above. The air filled with crackling energy, and sparks emanated from the tendrils of light that formed his hands and fingers. Veneve's moon caught the brunt of the blast. It crumbled like a clod of dirt, dissolved into the sky. The dust cloud from the supernova hit Thrive's shield with a thundering boom, sending quakes through the ground, through the air. He doubled down, the mass of colors spreading like a jet stream over the shield, and Warren's breath caught in his chest.

decay ruin (Aurora)—

Lilori escorted Warren to Edwa Falls, crowded into a shuttle with Genni and Guetry, whom he'd named his best man. Guetry fussed over Warren's suit like a parent, smoothing out the lapels of his jacket, making sure he didn't sit in a way that would crease the soft, pewter gray fabric of his pants. Even as they landed, Guetry put some finishing touches on his hair and the dark eyeshadow he'd insisted he wear. "Knock it off, Get," Genni finally said when the shuttle opened. "You're gonna ruin it."

bloom open (Eternal)—

Thrive was restrained once more and they continued down the corridor until they reached an open, unimpressive stone chamber filled with dozens more eliyi, all surrounding the towering Archmaster near the back wall. "This is...peculiar," the Archmaster said. "They have not killed you." Warren blinked and raised his eyebrows at the perfect English, but kept silent as he was told. "I think it's more peculiar that I haven't killed them," Thrive retorted, his voice quiet and deliberate. "But you know that, don't you?"

#tag game #find the word

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whencyclopedia · 2 years

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Legacy of Violence: A History of the British Empire

As the title suggests, Caroline Elkins's book tells the history of what historians call the “second British Empire” - the imperial developments that took shape after the disastrous loss of the rebellious American colonies in 1783 - through the lenses of imperialism and the violence that it has caused. Elkins’s geographic scope is breathtaking. She analyzes imperial violence in Ireland, Palestine, Kenya, India, Jamaica, Cyprus, South Africa, and many other regions. The periodization of the book is no less ambitious, beginning with the trial of Warren Hastings in 1787 and ending in the 21st century. In this regard, Legacy of Violence is a remarkable synthesis of two decades of scholarship about the British Empire, buttressed by Elkins’s own extensive archival work. Scholars, students, and enthusiasts with some prior knowledge about this topic would find this book insightful and enjoyable.

Elkins consistently shows how the British government and its state apparatus used the law to sanction violence against colonial subjects.

It is commonly accepted among historians that Britain’s version of “liberal imperialism” was premised on spreading freedom and the rule of law to countries or communities that they deemed as “backward.” The primary idea behind Legacy of Violence is that Britain viciously warped these promises to justify violence against colonized peoples, especially in the name of preserving core imperial ideals: white supremacy, wealth extraction, imperial prestige, and the endurance of the empire itself. Elkins consistently shows how the British government and its state apparatus used the law to sanction violence against colonial subjects. This “legalized lawlessness,” as Elkins terms it, was not distinct from, or in opposition to, the broader project of liberal imperialism but was intrinsic to the reformist vision for Britain’s colonies.

#19thCentury #BritishEmpire #Imperialism

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vijayasena · 5 months

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DOSTI..

No one's pov..

They were probably way more far away from the city, it was the starting of summer so the humidity and heat just made everything much more worse and unbearable...

Ram wiped the sweat off his back of neck from his handkerchief as he panted heavily they already walked more than 8 miles today..

It was getting on His nerves now, he hated missions like this and the cherry on top they weren't getting any closer to their objectives..

General Warren Hastings the new trading officer was elected for the capital of the prosperous hindustan to transport the Manchester made clothes and spices ..

Without having any kind of permission letter or a trial notice from the Constitutional monarchy officers..

But this wasn't something they were concerned about.. the migration of indentured labour had abolished six months ago yet he was getting constant complaints about how people from local and rural areas were forcefully taken to Europe and on the land of whites to work in their factories, and fight for their Britain...

The fact that it was unjustified. If Britain wants war then it should use his own local citizens and people..not the innocent people of their motherland..

And here he was doing something which was against all of this appointed to transport guns and weapons as well as indentured labours to the main department of East India company so that they can help in so called ..

Britain's economic growth.. and development how ironic?...

He scoffed at himself how much more this will gonna take place..

But he knew this wasn't gonna happen, the only thing that used to kill him was his own emotions and the Hatered he held for himself. The disgust he held for himself...

The pain was just for sometime but the guilt, the disgust the Hatered for himself in his conscience was still present no matter how many times he made himself realise that it was all for a bigger purpose..

That he will gonna thank himself, that it's all gonna be worth it when the 1700 sterling silver coins of bullet which crossed seven seas to reach their beloved motherland..

And how those filthy whites consider it expensive enough to not kill a innocent brown..

Because they weren't worth it .

How peaceful he will gonna feel after gracing their heart with that bullet

glancing at his brother like figure Bheem.. who was looking here and there walking carefully and occasionally talking about how much he miss Jenny . Well they were Definitely so cute together..

And he always used to mend their conversation that they fitted perfectly with each other.. Jenny was definitely a sweetheart and someone whom Bheem deserved..

He deserved every happiness of this earth, every wish he had to fullfill he deserved everything.. how happy and carefree he had been with Bheem..

He was just too sweet too observing and too adorable and his talks were soo innocent sometimes ram used to feel like he is best with a five year old.

holding Ram's hand Bheem looked at him and like he sensed his discomfort the second he held his hand .

"Everything is gonna be alright! Don't worry we got this and then you can rest forever all your sacrifices will gonna be worth it and we are always without you"..

Ram almost cried with the amount of innocence and kindness and generosity drip from Bheem's voice and he realised how hard he had been on himself..

How much he hated himself?

How much he hated himself for being like this ?..

He knew this Bheem will gonna do everything in his power to be with him.. to make sure ram is not alone ..

he smiled at him, because he was here to help him, always here to be with him to hold his back, to never let him fall ... And never let anyone else make him fall..

#bheem rrr #rrr #alluri sitarama raju #koumaram bheem #rise roar revolt #rrr fandom #ram and bheem #rrr film

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mirthlxss · 1 year

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Off to the races

Chapter 6: By my heart

“You gon’ use your words sweetheart?”

master list

price x oc, series.

a03: pricescigar, Off to the races is posted in full.

taglist: my lovely @deadbranch , @jxvipike

warnings: angst.

A busybody by nature, easily rushed into putting out other people's fires, never sitting long enough on her own. Lilith had a knack for solving everyone else's problems, neglecting her own to a certain extent, perhaps distracting herself from the mess of taut strings that kept her upright, knotted and highly strung as they puppeteered. A strange notion of control, a lie that clouded her priorities, convinced that fixing other people would fix herself. Having had her life put on pause, taken out of her hands completely, set in limbo by strangers, it was starting to deteriorate the woman.

She hurried down foreign hallways like she once had done before, not bathed in blood but steeped in shame as she navigated this hellscape. Thankful for the clearly marked exits, emerging from the warren with watery eyes and shaking limbs. The weather, the only comfort she’d had in her captivity, welcomed her with a heavy gust of wind. Droplets heaved themselves down, desperate to meet the girl, soaking her completely. Biting chill gnawed at her exposed skin, burrowing its icy nature into her completely, Lilith happily let it in. She could understand the sting of the cold, the shivering in wet winds, it felt real. Aching from the inside, humiliation that pulsed from deep within her, that she could not comprehend, could not solve.

Worriedly he jogged through hallways, scanning rooms and clearing corridors. The man would have passed her if it wasn’t for the gale that blew through the doors, swinging the exit open in a flurried fit, revealing the runaway. He caught the wooded entrance before it slammed shut, quietly watching her stand and shake. How he condemned himself then, waiting for the right words to fill his mouth, waiting for the solution to just arrive at his feet. It was never that easy, John knew that.

A steady step into the onslaught of the elements, tentative, not wanting to scare her off. He surveyed the woman from afar, black hair whipping in the wind, ill-fitting shirt from the lost and found that had a worn red cross plastered across its front, skimpy hospital flip-flops. It was all wrong.

“Lilith” A guttural call, full of remorse as his baritone husk accompanied nature's symphony.

She wanted to go home, be coddled up in bed after a hot shower, slip into needed slumber. But, as the minutes ticked on by, the bubbling infuriation slowly began to rise, tiredness now brewing into famished fatigue which clouded her usual judgement. Without substance, without direction. Lilith had thought she wanted some peace, glancing over at Price as he exited the building, she could feel it boiling now, an almost twisted sense of excitement as he approached. Strangely, this is what she wanted, something to hurl her mess at.

His hands thrust out from the obscure darkness, coated in ash and war, tanned and warm as they ensnared the creature in their trap. There was no use in protest, snarling teeth and growling harsh obscenities in efforts to escape, no use in attempting to pull away, the grip determined and strong. It was instinctive, wanting to protect herself, naturally defensive as the world was unforgiving and cruel.

Words fell short as he held her in his grasp, eyes desperately searching the others for some kind of relief. John's grip was all too sudden for her to pull back from, gentle yet instructive, moments felt like intensely long minutes. Lilith stood all too still without breathing, protesting every second of the inspection, storm clouds of grey angrily beginning to rain over the electric blue pools of emotion that seemed to rule the hue in his orbs. Price’s exploration started to spill into uncharted territory, making haste in calming the tempestuous domain.

Finally drawing breath, Lily retreated back from the other as John retracted his trap. Mouth dry from the anger, the worry of having been surveyed in such a disastrous state. Wetting her lips with an awful snare the woman seemed to generate thunder around her being, the glow penetrated by strikes of harsh lightening, unforgiving as they longed to land. Target, already acquired.

“Don’t fucking hug me” an unforgiving hiss as the rain continued to fall.

“Didn’t know what they were gonna show” A low grumble, pained as tense seconds beat between them. “It’s gon’ be dealt with okay, I’m sorry” Contrite, close to repenting as she still stormed on, eyebrows scrunched so tightly, nose flared.

“I’m sorry” He was croaking now, unsure of what else there was to say, wanting to make it better, not knowing where to start. Was he even right, being here? Trying to soothe?

“Lilith, cmon’ let's go inside” Price pleaded, hands balling and unfurling, fighting the urge to just pick her up anyways, force her into his idea of safety, his idea of control. No. That’s what started this whole scene in the first place, he stood unrelenting, sure he’d stay here at least, not leave her to the weather.

“Did you really not know?” She was faltering in her fury, voice failing to carry the anger, now awash with her shame. John shook his head, sliding out from his heavy coat and draping it over her shaking frame, hands fell onto her shoulders, trying to urge himself not to carry her inside.

“They’ll all be fired by tomorrow.” Calloused thumb lifted to press gently between her eyebrows, smoothing out the crease, he ushered out another apology. Lilith closed her eyes, letting the other try to remedy things, letting her features drop slightly with the soft pressure he applied.

“Sorry for the sandwich or the situation,” A twitch of a smile tickled her lips, John chuckled inwardly, shaking his head.

“Both.”

Lilith swayed with the wind, finally accepting the cover of John’s jacket, burrowing herself into its warmth and tugging the material around herself with a deep huff. She shuffled slightly, wet squelches of the hospital flip-flops giving her intentions away as she inched closer to the other, wordlessly urging him to try again. Asking him to hold her, red-rimmed eyes and sniffles, lips still etched into a frown.

“You gon’ use your words sweetheart?”

“Half the base has just seen my nudes Price, you really gonna make me ask for a hug?” He gawked for a moment, unsure as to why he expected anything else but attitude, accepting it nonetheless.

“I was teasing Lilith, love, come here”

“No, fuck you I don’t want one anymore”

“Liar” Accusation airy, moving to wrap himself around her before she decided to dart off again, pulling her close to his chest, wanting to evaporate the harm he’d done, the pain all of this had caused.

Cradled within him, for a moment, she let herself relax. His warm seeped through his jacket, beneath the sopping wet clothes that clung to her, delved amongst her skin and endeavoured to thaw the ice in her bones. Relief swept over the woman and it came with a sudden calmness, one she was not used to. It lulled her to close her eyes, rest within the unmoving embrace that sheltered her from the storm, from the prying of others. A waft of aroma filled her senses, the woodier scent cut with a unique smell she couldn't quite place. Cigars. It was cigars. Warm, earthy and far too welcoming. The sudden overwhelming feeling of John filling her senses did nothing for the redness that dusted across her pale skin, gulping ever so quietly as the Captain finally retracted himself. He stood close, hand resting on her shoulder, not all too ready to let go entirely.

“I don’t want to go back to the hospital room.”

“You’re not going to.”

“I don’t want to be cuffed either.”

“Noted. No cuffs, anything else?” He offered a half smile, urging her to answer.

“I want takeout and wine. I want to go and get my stuff, especially if you insist on keeping me trapped here. Most of all I want a fucking cigarette” The list rattled off her easily, having had weeks to brew over all the things she missed being chained up in that horrid room.

“Right well, we’ll have to see about getting your things, not tonight though love, the rest can be arranged.”

#john price x y/n #john price x you #john price #captain john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x you #john price x reader #captain price #off to the races #modern warfare #mw2 price #mw2 #mw2 x reader #lana del rey

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