For my younger followers, and those who have not had the chance to be as socially educated and may be on the fence about communism, an ideology that never should have left Karl Marx’s basement (where he wrote it while ignoring his starving children)
The perfect illustration of capitalism vs communism is Korea.
In South Korea, you have this thing called K-pop
It’s cute bubbly pop music made by cute highschool girls and young women.
Now in North Korea, you have these things called “Death Camps.”
It’s where girls just like this, toddlers, elderly and inform, and political dissidents (real or percieves) are worked to death, starved, women subject to rape (usually followed by then watching product of said rape murdered in front of her.), entire families imprisoned in these circumstances for generations, all of them subject to medical experimentation and just any crime against humanity imaginable (the history of communism is parrallel to that of all major large scale human rights abuses for the past hundred years.
Aye I once was a kid all I had was a dream Mo’ money mo’ problems, when I get it I’m a pile it up Yeah I’m dope wonderbread we can toast So fresh how we flow, everybody get their style from us I once was a kid with the other little kids Now I’m whippin’ up shows and ‘em fans goin’ wild with us Tell mommy I’m sorry This life is a party I’m never growing up
My Big Fat Greek Wedding was on last night, and I thought – what if this was a Zimbits AU? I put together a little fic outline. Here’s what I came up with.
My Big Fat Southern Wedding
Dicky Bittle is the gifted and talented baking son of Suzanne and Coach Bittle who own The Dancing Pies restaurant in Atlanta. A shy and quiet young man, Dicky spends most of his time baking, confiding in his moomaw, working at the restaurant but he wants more. He wants more for his life than just the restaurant and his very large, very close-knit and overbearing extended family.
When the Bittles expand and build a chain of restaurants, they open up a Dancing Pies in Nashville. It immediately becomes the biggest and most profitable restaurant in the chain, so the Bittles move to Nashville to oversee it.
Enter Nashville Preds star, Jack Zimmermann, who one day upon the insistence of his teammate Tater Mashkov, visits Dancing Pies for some of the pie Tater won’t stop going on and on about.
Dicky is working at the restaurant and feels his heart practically stop beating when Jack and Tater are seated. Dicky doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone as beautiful as Jack in his entire life.
“Zimmboni, everything here is good. You trust me,” Tater says as Dicky pours Jack a cup of coffee.
“Do you recommend anything?” Jack asks brightly.
“If I made it, uh… you’ll eat it,” Dicky says pushing up his glasses.
Dicky remembers how he’s dressed and wants to die. He woke up late that morning and is wearing some baggy jeans, a faded Cookie Monster t-shirt, a smear of toothpaste is just under his lower lip, and his hair is sticking up in the back with a cowlick from hell.
“The bitty baker is too funny, Zimmboni!” Tater yells as Jack smirks and watches the shy waiter from behind his menu.
“You made all the pies?” Jack asks.
Dicky nods nervously as Jack asks Dicky to just bring him what he thinks he’ll like.
They two enjoy their pie and coffee as Dicky dreamily watches from the counter.
They leave and Dicky thinks that’s that – until one afternoon Dicky is at the local bookstore perusing the cookbooks when he hears a voice behind him. “Hey, aren’t you that baker?”
Jon Snow is nervous to meet his future wife- and even more nervous to prove himself in front of her.
A/N: My first fanfic in a while! I just watched Game of Thrones and LOVED it, so expect some GoT soon, especially Robb and Jon, my babies.
F/N= first name, L/N= last name
You shifted in your seat, pretending to be asleep as you listened to your parents whisper back and forth.
“A bastard,” you mother muttered, the word like venom on her lips.
“Ned Stark’s bastard,” your father reminded her gently. In your mind’s eye you could see the desperation in his eyes.
“She is a lady!”
Your father sighed. “She is the youngest of nine daughters in a small house. She has limited options. It’s either marry her off to some old lord who is on his seventh wife who will use her for her body, or the son of a good man who will, Gods willing, treat her with compassion.”
Your mother hummed, her arms probably crossed across her chest. “He’s still a bastard.”
You knew your father was right. It was good of Ned Stark to arrange your marriage. When he heard your father was desperately trying to find a match for his youngest, favorite daughter, Lord Stark had an unusual proposal. One your father simply couldn’t refuse.
It was even Lord Stark’s idea to have you stay at Winterfell for a few months so you could get to know your future husband; you’d only met once or twice as children when you visited Winterfell. You remembered Jon Snow being quiet and brooding; you wondered what kind of man he’d grown into.
Your eyes opened as Winterfell came into sight. At least you could find comfort in the fact that the beautiful Stark castle would be your home.
Ned Stark stood at the gate, a friendly smile on his face. He embraced you and your parents, offering you a small wink. Your stomach was in absolute knots.
He led you through the gate, where his family lined up to greet you.
Robb Stark, the most charming young man in the North, kissed your hand. He often accompanied his father to visit your home and was always kind to you. At least you would have an ally in your brother by law.
“Lady F/N,” he said with that dashing smile. “Your beauty has grown since we last met. I had assured my brother that his bride-to-be was lovely, but I must admit, my words did you no justice.”
You blushed. “Thank you, Lord Robb.” You continued down the line to the very end where-
“L-Lady F/N.” A pair of nervous brown eyes searched yours. “A pleasure to see you again.” Jon Snow glanced towards his brother, who gave him an encouraging nod. Jon kissed your hand gently. “I, er, look forward to getting better acquainted.” A pause. “With you.” Another pause. “My lady,” he added quietly.
A small smile escaped your lips. Jon Snow had grown to be a handsome young man, with curly black hair you wanted to reach out and touch. Though Robb’s confidence was definitely attractive, there was something sweet to Jon’s nervousness. You liked it.
“I seem to recall a young dark-haired boy who was never without his sword,” you said, noting that he still held your hand. “Do you still practice the whole day long?”
Now Jon smiled, a small, shy grin. “Indeed, I do.”
Down the line, Robb piped up. “Perhaps after lunch you would like to watch us practice, my lady?”
You nodded. “I would like that very much,” you called back. You turned back to Jon. “If that’s fine with you, that is.”
Jon nodded. “Very fine, my lady.”
“Good.” You gave his hand a small squeeze and released it before following Lady Stark to your room.
As you entered the castle, you glanced back. Jon was standing in the same spot, staring after you, as Robb chattered excitedly in his ear.
You sat beside Jon at lunch, noticing that he barely looked at you. Your stomach sank. Across from you, Robb cleared his throat.
“So, my lady, what do you do with your free time?
You looked up at Robb, who stared at Jon pointedly.
“Oh. I read. I ride. Some needlework.” You looked down the table at the eldest Stark sister. “Though I have heard Lady Sansa’s needlework is true art. Perhaps she could help me improve my own?”
Lady Sansa smiled graciously. “I would love to.”
You turned your gaze to the younger sister. “And Lady Arya, I would love to learn to shoot properly, if you have the time. I have been told your skill surpasses that of any of your brothers.”
The girl’s face lit up. “I would love to!”
Good. More allies in your new home.
After lunch, Jon excused himself to grab something from his room, promising to meet you and Robb in the yard.
Robb offered you his arm as you headed out. “I apologize for my brother, Lady F/N. He… well honestly he is a little scared of you.” A small smile played on his lips. “Not that I can blame him. You are, after all, his future wife.”
You nodded. “I must admit, I’m nervous as well. I barely know him.” You smiled at Robb. “But if he’s anywhere near as kind as you and your sisters, I know I will be very happy here.”
Robb nodded. “Aye, he is. A bit… glum, at times. But very kind,” he assured you. “And before lunch he admitted to me that you are the loveliest creature he ever laid eyes on.”
You felt yourself blush. You opened your mouth to reply-
“What’s this I hear the bastard is marrying himself a lady?” a voice called out.
You and Robb turned as a lanky young man approached you. His eyes traveled up and down your body.
Robb sighed. “This is Theon Greyjoy, our ward. Theon, this is Lady F/N L/N. Jon’s intended.”
Theon’s eyes had yet to find your face. “Hello my lady,” he finally said, the kiss he planted on your hand lingering far too long. “I am looking forward to getting to know you.”
You took a step back. “Thank you.” A mop of curly black hair caught your eye. “But if you will excuse me, I believe I see my future husband.” You broke away from Theon and took Jon’s arm. “Jon, I am very excited to see how well you wield a sword.” You smiled sweetly at him.
He looked a bit taken aback. “Really?” You nodded. “Really.” You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.
Theon spoke up. “I’ve an idea.” You and the brothers turned to look at him. “A duel. You and me, Snow. Winner gets a kiss from your little lady here.”
The color rose in Jon’s cheeks. “I-”
“What the matter?” Theon challenged. “Scared I’ll kiss your bride before you do?”
Jon glanced at you. You could tell he did not want to back down in front of you. “Fine. Grab your sword.”
Robb led you out to the yard, helping you perch yourself on a fence. “Not to worry, my lady. Jon is a fantastic swordsman. Your lips are in safe hands.” He smiled at you and lowered his voice. “And make sure to cheer him on. He’s always wanted a pretty girl cheering him on in a duel.”
You laughed. “I’ll be sure to cheer him on to victory.”
The two young men came out, ready for combat. Jon glanced your way. You smiled and gave a small wave.
“Good luck Jon!” you called out. A smile tugged on your future husband’s lips.
“Nicely done,” Robb murmured beside you. “I do believe my brother is blushing.”
You giggled in response. You could definitely feel yourself falling for the bastard of Winterfell as you watched him wield his sword. He looked confident and strong as he swung his weapon this way and that.
“Go Jon!” you called out, clapping.
He turned his head to look at you, a proud smirk on his handsome face. Theon took the opportunity to take a cheap hit, knocking Jon to the ground. He held his sword to Jon’s throat.
“I do believe I win, Snow,” he claimed smugly. He sauntered over to you. “And now for my prize.”
You grimaced and looked to Robb, who looked at shocked as you felt.
“That was a cheap shot,” Robb finally choked out. “You know in a fair fight Jon would have slaughtered you. He was nervous in front of F/N!”
Theon shrugged. “That’s life, m'lord.” He turned to you. “My prize.”
You looked at Jon, who still lay on the ground, looking utterly defeated. You could feel the embarrassment radiating from him.
“Here’s your damned prize,” you muttered. You barely brushed your lips against Theon’s cheek, then jumped down from your post. You walked over to Jon, who slowly sat up as you approached.
“I-I’m sorry, my lady,” he muttered. “If I hadn’t gotten distracted-”
You smiled as you knelt beside him. “I’m glad you got distracted.” You took his hand in yours as he looked at you, puzzled. “You getting distracted by me was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
A small smile appeared on his lips. “Really?”
You nodded. “You know, I think second place deserves a prize too.”
Jon’s eyebrows rose. “Oh you do?” He glanced behind you at the other boys, who looked just as surprised.
You leaned down and pressed your lips gently against his. You could feel his smile pressing against yours as his hand rose to pull you closer. He finally let you go and pulled back. A large smile spread across his face.
“I think I’m gonna like being married,” he murmured before leaning in for another kiss.
looks like I have another pile of Briggs headcanons so here you go!!
Despite his size, Buc can be impressively stealthy and light on his feet. This has led to a lot of startled soldiers. Sometimes it’s an accident.
New transfers to the fort, regardless of age, are affectionately referred to as “cubs” by their superiors, who are very protective of them starting immediately.
To the inhabitants of the fort, anyone living south of Briggs counts as a “southerner”, including the residents of North City, who endure their share of good-natured teasing. Anyone who brings up the fact that Briggs itself is south of Drachma will be met with an indignant look and a quick subject change.
Falman was transferred to Briggs from Northern HQ after Miles crossed paths with him on a North City supply run and took note of his quick thinking and impressive memory skills. He mentioned this to Olivier back at the fort, and she suggested the transfer right away.
The horses of Fort Briggs are very well cared for and used mostly for long-distance patrols. Many of the stablehands are young people from North City who were happy to find an employment opportunity close to home.
Some of the horses are used by various soldiers, while others belong to individuals; Buc favors a huge draft mare and takes delight in braiding her mane and tail, complete with bows to match his own. He also sneaks her sugar cubes from the breakfast table.
You were a girl from a small highborn family of the north, you were being fostered by ths Starks in Winrerfell and spent most of your time with lady Catelyn, however you ended up crossing paths with Jon on many occasions.
You were a lowborn girl of the North, however you lived just outside of Winrerfell and were out hunting one day when you came face to face with the young Lord of the North Robb Stark. From then on the to of you bonded and he began to help you hunt.
You and theon met when you were little in the Iron Islands on Pyke. You were so young and didn’t have much time together before he was taken to Winterfell. Since then you have been sailing you way hoping to find your childhood friend again.
You met when you and your father, a wealthy merchant, came to Casterly Rock in hopes of becoming trading partners with the Lannisters. Tywin has suggested that his son show you around and Jaime and you began to dtalk about each other’s dreams and wishes for the future. His being to become a knight and yours to travel the world.
In a strange and yet not so strange way, you met Tyrion by accident at a whore house in King’s Landing. Now you were not a whore. Instead you were a spy, to be more specific, one of varys’s little birds. Tyrion figured out who you were and instead of turning you in, you began to work for him.
You and Bronn met in a travern in the Riverlands. You both began to play a drinking game and let’s just say you didn’t spend the night alone that night. After that however you two began to travel together as friends and you then, with the help of Bronn, become a sellsword yourself.
You were a court lady, along with your other sisters, in King’s Landing. You were originally from the reach and had come to court after the Tyrells made a marriage pact with the crown. Since you were both in King’s Landing, you would sometimes see Pod, along with Lord Tyrion and Sir Bronn. You thought Pod was cute and asked Lady Margery about him and she insisted on introducing you two.
You were friends with his sister. When you learned about his green seeing abilities, you were fascinated. And when Jojen began having visions about Bran, you joined the Reed siblings without any hesitations.
You were a runaway slave from Yunkai. Tou had manged to escape from you master, but after days of running without food or water. You began to grow weak. So when slave merchants found you, you thought you were doomed. That was until a dragger flew into one of the merchant’s eyes. In short Daario saved you that day and told you that you would no longer be a slave.
“Arya, the lone wolf, still lived, but the wolves of the pack had been taken and slain and skinned.”
Vengeance for her pack burned within her, she’d set the Seven Kingdoms on fire to light the emptiness they left in her heart🐺
The leopard seal (Hydrurga leptonyx), also referred to as the sea leopard, is the second largest species of seal in the Antarctic (after the southern elephant seal). The leopard seal is large and muscular, with a dark grey back and light grey on its stomach. Its throat is whitish with the black spots that give the seal its common name. The overall length of this seal is 7.9–11.5 feet and weight is from 440 to 1,320 pounds.