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eu-nicola · 3 months ago

Text

via part 1

summary: In the dazzling world of high society, you are a young woman who lives an apparently perfect relationship with the pilot Pierre Gasly. However, when you discover that your boyfriend of years Pierre was unfaithful to you with one of your best friends you decide to walk away and what better idea than a vacation in the break of Formula 1 in Italy with one of your friends, Charles.

warnings: tension, infidelity

word counter: 8718

author's note: english is not my first language, btw i'm writing the third part of Max's story

You had grown up with them, in those endless summers in the south of France, where the sun seemed brighter and the air was filled with laughter and promises that seemed eternal. Pierre and Charles were like brothers to you, always there, on days of adventure and days of calm. All of your families knew each other well, and every year the summers brought you together in the same coastal corner. Sometimes, Camille would arrive, that inseparable friend with whom you shared secrets and dreams.

Pierre was the center of calm in the group; observant, with an easy laugh and a confidence that inspired trust. He was the boy who always had a logical answer to every problem and calm advice for each of you. You got used to feeling safe when he was around, to trusting in his loyalty and relying on that serenity he conveyed. He had dreamed of being a driver since he was little, and his tenacity in reaching Formula 1 did not surprise anyone; you always knew that he had the discipline necessary to go far.

Charles, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy, the first to jump into any challenge, no matter how reckless or absurd it seemed. Always on the edge, he was the friend who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, but also the one who could drive you crazy with his impulses and ideas. But that intensity of his, that boundless passion, was also what made him unique. He and Pierre shared the same dream, and although their personalities were opposite, they were both united by that common goal, by that desire for speed that made them talk about races all the time.

Over the years, you witnessed their triumphs and falls. Sometimes, childhood summers seemed like a distant dream; the pressure, the training, and the anxieties of the future began to infiltrate those vacations that used to be just fun. But the friendship between you remained solid. Although life took you on different paths, the connections remained strong, and there was always a message or a call to remind you that they were there.

Pierre had been more than a friend in the last few years, and that spark that had emerged sometime in their teens had grown into something more solid and deeper. The shared laughter and knowing glances had transformed into a relationship in which both found refuge amidst the demands of their lives.

You remember how it all began, almost without realizing it, like a gentle current in the sea that slowly drags you along until you are completely immersed. For years he had been your friend, your confidant; the boy who was always there. But, at some point, something in him changed, or maybe it was you who had changed.

It had started on a spring afternoon in Monaco, when both of you attended a Formula 1 event. You clearly remember what he looked like: hair messy from the wind and an expression of excitement at seeing the drivers gathered together, his idols. That afternoon you noticed how good he looked, how much he had grown and how much he meant to you. A mix of emotions washed over you, and when Pierre looked at you, holding your gaze a little longer than usual, you felt something in the air, something you hadn't felt before. And in that moment, your relationship changed.

The days that followed were filled with small details, knowing glances, and words that seemed to contain hidden meanings. Sometimes, a simple shared laugh or a silence at his side made you feel something different. Pierre began to appear in your thoughts at all hours, and, at first, you tried to ignore him, because you didn't want to risk the friendship you had with him. But it was impossible.

The first kiss was at sunset on the coast, on a beach where you both used to go when you were younger. You hadn't planned anything, you didn't even know how you had ended up there, in front of him, feeling the breeze and the scent of salt in the air. Pierre looked at you with those warm eyes, and without saying anything, he shortened the distance between you. The kiss was soft at first, as if both of you were measuring the intensity, the newness of it, until it became deeper, more real. In that moment, you felt like a line had been crossed, and although a part of you was afraid, another part knew it was inevitable. Pierre held you with a tenderness you had never experienced before, and in that instant you felt safe, as if you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

From that day on, your relationship evolved with a naturalness that surprised you. The transition from friendship to love was so fluid that, at some point, you couldn't remember what your life was like without him. Pierre became your partner in every sense. He was that constant support in difficult times, the one who listened to you patiently when you shared your fears and your dreams, and the one who always had a smile for you, even after his hardest days on the slopes.

On one occasion, after a particularly exhausting race for him, you both sat on the terrace of your apartment, looking at the sky full of stars. Pierre was exhausted, his shoulders tense and his expression more somber than usual. Without saying anything, you approached and began to massage his shoulders. He sighed, grateful, and let his head fall back, relaxing under your hands. That night you talked for hours, about his career, about the future and about how you saw the world.

The days passed and, little by little, you realized that Pierre had become an indispensable part of your life. His way of seeing the world inspired you, his patience taught you, and, above all, his love made you feel complete. When he held your hand, looked at you, or said sweet words in your ear, the rest of the world seemed to disappear, and there were only the two of you.

It had been almost a year since your relationship with Pierre began, and things between you seemed to be going better than ever. The trust between the two of you was unbreakable, and you felt that he understood you better than anyone else. Pierre was present in every aspect of your life, and you, in his. It seemed like a solid love, a relationship based on years of friendship and respect. But there was something, a detail hidden between the corners of his life and yours, something that would soon emerge, transforming that feeling of security into a wound.

The first time Camille appeared again in your lives, it was on one of your weekend getaways. You had invited your childhood friends, as you did every year, to spend a few days in a villa near the sea. Camille joined the group near the end of the trip, saying that she had been away on a trip and hadn’t been able to make it earlier. Her presence made you happy, as always; after all, she was your lifelong friend, and sharing those moments with her made you feel like everything was in its place.

Pierre and Camille seemed to get along, and that had never worried you. They had known each other for a long time, as had Charles, and they all had a unique bond, one that you had come to value greatly. But what you didn’t know was that, months ago, during one of Pierre’s trips, something had happened between them, something that had become the darkest secret your relationship kept.

It was one night in Monaco, when Pierre was at a team dinner and Camille was visiting the city. Camille had always had a weakness for glamorous nights, clubs, and the freedom to be whoever she wanted. That evening, without thinking twice, she wrote to Pierre, and he, without thinking twice either, agreed to meet her for a drink after dinner. What started as a reunion between friends quickly turned into something more.

That night, Pierre and Camille shared not only laughter and memories, but also glances that went beyond friendship. They both knew it was wrong, that crossing that line was betraying the trust of someone they loved. But, between the intoxicating atmosphere of the place and the complicity they had shared for years, they let themselves go. Pierre felt an attraction he had forgotten, and Camille, who had always had a spark with him, encouraged him, letting herself go as well.

It was a mistake, one they both knew should stay in the past. After that night, Camille returned to her normal life, and Pierre returned to you, convinced that you would never know what had happened. They swore not to talk about it and to carry on as if nothing had happened. Camille continued to be your close friend, and Pierre, your partner.

In the following months, Pierre did everything he could to act as if nothing had happened. His attentions towards you increased, the small details with which he showed his love and the constancy of his affectionate words. With every glance he took at you, he tried to redeem the guilt he felt inside. But even though he seemed to have put it behind him, the shadow of that night still haunted him in his darkest moments. At night, in moments of silence, that guilt tormented him, and he knew that if you ever found out, his whole world would fall apart.

Camille, for her part, came back into your life without showing any trace of remorse. She was skilled at hiding her emotions, and although sometimes her glances at Pierre had a trace of complicity, she managed to remain distant, as if nothing was different. She was still the same Camille as always, with her contagious laugh and carefree attitude. When you were with her, you couldn't even imagine what she was hiding behind her smile.

A few months after that meeting at the villa, something began to change. At first, it was just an intuition, a slight feeling that crossed you from time to time, like a shadow that made you frown for no apparent reason. Pierre was still affectionate, attentive, almost as if he was trying to make up for something, although you didn't know what.

One night, while you were looking through some photos from that getaway, you noticed one in particular: Pierre and Camille, sharing a somewhat peculiar smile. It was a harmless image, but, without knowing why, it made you uncomfortable. You kept telling yourself that they were your friends, that they had known each other all their lives and that it was normal for them to get along. However, something inside you kept doubting.

The weeks that followed increased that uneasiness. You noticed how Pierre looked away when you mentioned Camille, or how Camille, in a conversation, avoided giving details about some nights in which, according to her, "everyone just had fun." You began to analyze her words, her gestures, her looks. You felt trapped in a spiral of mistrust, and you couldn't help it.

You couldn't keep those concerns to yourself; you needed to vent to someone, someone you really trusted. That's when you decided to talk to Charles. After all, he knew Pierre, Camille, and you better than anyone else. You knew he would be honest with you, without trying to sugarcoat things.

One afternoon, while Charles was back at his house, you decided to call him. He answered on the second ring, in that warm, relaxed voice that always managed to calm you down a little. It didn't take you long to convince him to meet you at a secluded café, away from the eyes of anyone who might recognize you.

Charles arrived shortly after you, and upon seeing you, he immediately noticed that something was wrong. He sat down in front of you, looking at you with a mix of concern and curiosity. You tried to smile to lighten the moment, but you barely managed to keep it. So, without further ado, you blurted out what you had in store.

“Charles, I need your help. I feel like… something is going on between Pierre and Camille. I’m not sure what, but… I have this feeling that they are hiding something from me. It’s just a suspicion, but I can’t get it out of my head,” you said, your voice a little broken, trying to control your emotions.

Charles looked at you silently, evaluating every word and every expression of yours. He knew how important Pierre was to you, and the seriousness of your words made him realize that this was not just a passing doubt. He leaned forward, getting closer, and gently took your hand, as he usually did in those moments when you felt lost.

“I don’t know what to tell you… I mean, Camille and Pierre have always been close, but I never thought that…” he paused, as if he didn’t want to feed your fears. “Look, I don’t want you to be hasty. Sometimes, the mind plays tricks on us, and it’s easy to get carried away by insecurity.”

However, your words had awakened something in him, a kind of doubt that seemed to invade his mind as well. Charles knew Pierre and Camille, and, although he had always trusted them, he had never ruled out that a spark could arise between them. After all, he knew what Camille was like, how impulsive she could be, and he also knew Pierre, and how much he hated dealing with conflict. And now, seeing you so distressed, he couldn’t help but think that maybe your suspicions had some truth.

“Do you want me to talk to Pierre?” he finally asked you, looking at you seriously. “Maybe I can get something out of him, try to see if there’s something he’s hiding from you.”

You stayed silent, considering his proposal. You didn't want this to turn into a confrontation, and you didn't want to put Charles in an awkward position either. However, the idea that he could get some truth that was hidden from you seemed tempting.

"I don't know... I don't want Pierre to feel like I'm distrusting him," you murmured, lowering your gaze. "But I can't keep this doubt in my head either."

Charles nodded.

"Look, I'm going to try to find out something, in a subtle way. And if there's something you need to know, I'll tell you. But promise me that you won't do anything until we have some proof, okay?"

You promised Charles that you would be patient, that you would wait before doing anything. At that moment, you felt a mix of relief and fear. At least you weren't alone in this anymore; now you had someone on your side, someone who was willing to help you discover the truth.

The days that followed were long and heavy. Every time Pierre took your hand or looked at you with his affectionate eyes, you felt a pang in your chest, a doubt that went beyond what he could see. Meanwhile, Charles did everything he could to find out something and, in a casual conversation, try to get some clue. You didn't reveal your suspicions to him, but you watched him, attentive to any gesture or word that could give him away.

Finally, one day, Charles called you again.

That call from Charles came when you least expected it. You were at home, in your kitchen, with a cup of tea in your hands, trying to stay calm. The sound of your phone brought you out of your thoughts, and seeing Charles' name on the screen, you felt a knot in your stomach.

You answered quickly, trying to hide the fear that was eating away at you inside.

"Charles?" you asked, your voice a little hesitant.

It took him a moment to answer, and his tone, serious and slow, gave you no reassurance.

“We need to talk. It’s about Pierre… and Camille,” he said, bluntly, and you felt as if the air was being knocked out of your lungs.

You fell silent, knowing that this was the moment your suspicions were either going to come to life or fade away completely. Charles continued, with a tense calm that only increased your anxiety.

“What I suspected about you… it’s true. Pierre and Camille were together, a couple of months ago. It was… it wasn’t something they wanted you to know, and they tried to hide it, but… the pieces don’t fit, and I found out.”

Confusion and pain hit you hard. The teacup in your hands shook and nearly fell, but your fingers tightened around it, as if that small sense of control could keep everything from falling apart.

“It can’t be…” you whispered, unable to process what you had just heard. Charles’ words echoed in your head like a distant echo, but your mind didn’t want to accept them. You couldn’t believe it, not after everything you had shared. Somehow, you hoped this was just a mix-up, a cruel joke. But the seriousness in Charles’ voice left no room for doubt.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Charles said, a mix of frustration and sadness in his tone. “I know how hard this must be for you, but what I’m telling you is the truth. Pierre… I don’t know what he thought, but he wasn’t being honest with you.”

Pain gripped you immediately. You slumped into the chair, your hand still clutching the cup, which now shook as if your entire body was trying to hold on to something that was about to break. Images piled up in your mind: Pierre, so close, so loving, and Camille, your lifelong friend. It all seemed like a cruel game, a lie that was woven with invisible threads until now.

“How did you know?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. You needed to understand how something so destructive had gone unnoticed for so long.

Charles sighed, and in his tone there was a hint of helplessness, as if it hurt him too to be the bearer of bad news.

“I knew because when I was with Pierre last week, I couldn’t help but notice that something wasn’t right. He… was behaving strangely, and when I started asking him questions, everything fell into place. It wasn’t easy for me, but… that’s what I found.” I didn't like having to do it, but I did it for you.

A lump formed in your throat, and you felt the weight of everything you had taken for granted fall on you, crushing you. Everything you had lived with Pierre, all those moments of love, of complicity, suddenly seemed unreal, as if you had been living a lie.

"I... I can't believe it, Charles," you finally said, your voice cracked, full of pain. You felt like the ground beneath you was no longer firm, that everything you had built with Pierre was crumbling into a thousand pieces.

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and Charles, although worried, knew he couldn't say anything to ease the pain that was now overwhelming you.

"I'm so sorry..." he murmured, not knowing what else to say. He was also sad for you, for the way things had happened, and for what you knew you would have to face.

The words seemed to flee from you. All you wanted to do was scream, to run away, to run away somewhere where no one knew you, where all of this wasn’t real. How could Pierre, the man you trusted, the one you’d put all your love into, have done this? And Camille, your friend, the one who’d always been there, how could she have crossed that line, betrayed you like that?

“Thank you, Charles,” you said at last, your words cold, automatic, as if you were somehow trying to keep some control over yourself. You knew you needed to process it, but you didn’t know how. You didn’t know how to move on when what you thought was your life had been shattered in front of you.

You hung up the call, and for a moment, everything was silent. The pain washed over you like a wave, and you felt empty, as if the betrayal had ripped a piece of yourself out of you. The space Pierre had occupied in your life suddenly seemed like an impossible void to fill, and Camille, your friend, became a distant, unrecognizable shadow.

While you were sinking into your pain, your bewilderment and the whirlwind of emotions that Pierre and Camille had unleashed in your life, the two of them continued with their own secret. Far from what was happening with you, in the distance that you could not see, Camille and Pierre

were together at an event and, as on so many previous occasions, when they crossed paths in the hallway, there was an instant clash of glances. Memories of the past came back, like ghosts that had never left. Camille, like him, felt the tension between the two of them, a tension that seemed unable to dissipate, even with the passage of time.

Pierre, with his mind full of contradictions, had managed to calm down after his return to you. But now, again in front of Camille, the old emotions invaded him again. He remembered the moment when their bodies met, the touch of their lips, the sensation of something he had not been able to reject. Camille, aware of what had happened, stared at him, and although her expression seemed relaxed, her eyes betrayed the mixture of regret and desire she felt.

“I don’t know why, but… I haven’t been able to forget you,” Pierre told her, his voice lowering in tone, as if he didn’t want anyone to hear them. The confession came out without her being able to avoid it, like a truth that had been pressing against her chest for weeks.

Camille didn’t say anything at first, she just stared at him, with a slight smile on her lips. She couldn’t deny what had happened between them, even if she tried to act indifferent. After all, she had been the one who had made the first move that night, she who had accepted the kiss, who had taken him to a place where neither of them thought about the consequences.

“Don’t forget it,” she replied, her voice soft, but with a tone that Pierre recognized as dangerous. There was something in her words that caught him, something that made him feel as if he were at a crossroads. Camille hadn't let him go, and deep down, he knew she didn't want to either.

Pierre stayed silent, watching her. There was something about her, that intense, direct gaze, that completely disarmed him. He realized that, despite his relationship with you, something with Camille was still alive, something that refused to die out.

"And what do we do with that?" Pierre asked, his tone full of uncertainty, but also of an emotion that he couldn't hide. The words tasted bitter, but also necessary. He couldn't continue living with the guilt, with the weight of what had happened between them.

Camille took a deep breath, looked around to make sure no one was around, and then whispered, almost as if she were revealing a secret truth.

"I don't know what to do with us... with what happened," she admitted, and for a moment, Pierre felt time stop between them. Camille had always been direct, and though there was regret in her words, there was also something deeper, something that kept them connected beyond betrayal.

Pierre took a step closer, a movement that was driven by a need he couldn't control.

"I should never have let this happen… but I can't ignore it, Camille. I can't ignore you," he confessed, this time bluntly, as if the words were slipping from his control.

Camille didn't back down. On the contrary, she moved a little closer to him, and although remorse was present in her eyes, there was also a spark that she couldn't hide.

"I can't forget you either," she replied, with a smile that, although bitter, was sincere. There was something in her voice that, although full of contradiction, showed that, deep down, despite the betrayal, there was still something between them, something they couldn't just leave behind.

The conversation between them ended with a heavy, but not definitive silence. They both knew that what they felt, what had happened between them, wasn't going to disappear immediately. Although Pierre had returned to your side, his mind was still caught between the love he felt for you and the temptation of what he had experienced with Camille.

When Pierre returned, everything seemed to be in its place. At first, he tried to be the same as always: caring, attentive, the kind and loving boy you had been with. But something in him had changed, and you knew it.

That evening, after he arrived at your apartment, you found him in the kitchen while you were making dinner. There was something different about him, and you couldn't ignore it anymore. You knew you couldn't keep living with the doubt and the pain in silence. You had to face it, even if it meant losing him.

You approached him decisively, your heart racing, but determined that, at last, you would have answers. You couldn't keep up with that feeling of betrayal that was eating away at you inside.

"Pierre, we need to talk," you said, trying to stay calm, but knowing that your words sounded much colder than you wanted.

Pierre looked up, surprised by the tone of your voice. He tried to smile, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and for a moment, everything seemed to collapse between you.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked, with that typical calm of his that used to reassure you, but now only irritated you.

You knew what you had to say, you knew there was no turning back now. You had the proof, you had the truth. It was time for him to face what he had done.

“I know what happened with Camille,” you said suddenly, and the air between you both grew thick. The words came out with the force of something that had been bottled up for too long. It was as if, as you spoke them, the pain you had been carrying around with you for weeks began to release, but at the same time, it intensified.

Pierre was silent for a moment, his face expressionless. Then, you saw him tense, his jaw set. His eyes shifted for a second, as if he were looking for a way out, a way to evade the truth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally answered, but his tone was no longer the same. There was something uncomfortable, something you couldn’t ignore.

“Don’t lie!” you exclaimed, feeling the rage and pain explode inside you. The truth burned you, and you needed him to accept it, to stop hiding it. You knew you couldn’t continue with someone who was lying to you so openly. “Charles told me everything, Pierre. I know what they did, I know you were with Camille.”

Pierre tried to take a deep breath, but he couldn’t help the slight trembling in his hands, the anxiety that invaded him. He knew he couldn’t continue denying the obvious, but he also knew that if he admitted it, he would lose everything he had built with you.

“It’s not what you think…” he said, his voice now lowering, trying to control the situation. But you weren’t going to let him manipulate you anymore. You knew him too well for his empty words to convince you again.

“How is it not what I think?” you asked, unable to contain the sarcasm and pain that seeped into your words. Do you think I'm so stupid that I don't realize what happened? You lied to me, Pierre. You lied to me! I can't believe you did this to me.

Instead of apologizing, Pierre tried to turn the conversation around, like he always did when things got tough. He tried to find an excuse, a justification for his behavior, as if that could make everything go back to normal.

"It was a mistake, something that happened, but it doesn't mean what you think it does. Camille… Camille has always been a close friend, and that night, it was just a moment of weakness. I love you, not her. What happened doesn't matter, what matters is that I'm here with you."

But those words had no power over you. They weren't enough to erase the betrayal you felt. He had overlooked it so many times, ignored so many signs that now they became crystal clear. And now, in front of you, Pierre was trying to downplay it, as if it was all an accident, something weightless, when what he had done had broken everything you believed in him.

You took a step back, unable to bear it any longer.

“I can’t go on like this, Pierre,” you said, your voice shaking, but firm. Each word was another nail in the coffin of what had been your relationship.

Pierre seemed surprised, as if he hadn’t expected you to get to this point. He tried to get closer, to take your hand, but you pushed him away roughly, not allowing him to touch you.

“Don’t touch me. You won’t.” You felt empty, but at the same time liberated, as if a heavy layer of pain and disappointment had suddenly been removed.

Pierre tried to speak, but the sadness in his eyes was evident. Now he saw that everything was crumbling before him, that the lie had come to light, and that nothing could save what was left of you.

“I don’t know what to tell you… I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice cracking, but the words no longer held the power they once had. No matter how sorry he felt, the truth was there, and there was no turning back.

“Then you should have thought about it before,” you answered, with a calm that surprised you. It was as if, finally, all the pain you had been accumulating had transformed into something more solid, something that strengthened you. “I don’t want you around. Not after all this.”

And without giving her any room to say more, you turned around and walked to your room, heartbroken, but with the feeling that at least you had done the right thing. You had reached the end, and even though it hurt, you knew that your life had to go on, away from lies, away from betrayals.

Pierre stood there, alone in the living room, watching as everything he had had with her faded away, unable to do anything but accept that he had lost what he loved most.

After the confrontation with Pierre, the weight of the situation did not fade away. On the contrary, what had started as a broken hope, was transformed into an urgent need to escape. You needed to disconnect, to get away, to find peace away from all that. And there was no better way to do it than taking a breather somewhere where no one could touch you, where you could recover a little of yourself.

That was when you thought of Charles. You knew that his impulsive personality and desire for adventure fit perfectly with what you needed right now: an escape.

The idea of traveling to Italy came to you as a perfect way to unwind. Italy had everything you were looking for: beautiful landscapes, tranquility, history, and culture. You called Charles, who was in the middle of training for the season, but you knew that if anyone could understand what you needed, it was him. At first, you took him by surprise, but upon hearing your voice, he immediately recognized the anguish you were trying to hide.

“Charles…” you said, hesitantly at first, but with the determination of someone who had already made up their mind. “I need to get away from all this. I want to go to Italy, to a villa in the mountains, away from everything. Away from Pierre, away from everything that happened.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. You knew he was processing what you had just told him, but you also knew that he would never leave you alone in something like that.

“Of course,” he finally answered, without a moment’s hesitation. “If that’s what you need, let’s go. To Italy then.”

The relief you felt upon hearing his answer was immediate. Charles never questioned your decisions. He had always been there for you, and his unconditional support gave you the strength you needed at that moment.

“Thank you, Charles,” you said, unable to stop your voice from cracking a little.

The idea of traveling to Italy began to take shape quickly. Charles took care of everything, from flights to accommodation, looking for a secluded place in the mountains, far from the hustle and bustle of tourist cities. A place where they could rest, explore, and above all, unwind.

As soon as you had everything ready, the anticipation grew.

The day of the trip arrived quickly. You packed your things with more excitement than ever, relieved to finally get away from the pain and Pierre’s constant presence in your life. It was clear that you needed this change, and, although you knew that the wound Pierre had left would not heal immediately, at least you could give yourself the space to heal, without the pressure of the media that already knew about the crisis between the two of you stalking you every day.

Arriving in Italy, the beauty of the landscape enveloped you like a warm hug. The mountains rose majestically, covered in green, the villas scattered among the vineyards gave a feeling of peace and tranquility that you had not felt for a long time. The villa in which they would stay was hidden between hills, and the rustic and cozy decoration made you feel as if you were in another world, one in which the past had no place.

You and Charles spent the first few days exploring the place, walking through the small towns nearby, tasting wines and eating fresh pasta at local restaurants. Every day was a respite, a chance to unwind, to forget about the pain for a bit and focus on the present.

Although Charles was his usual impulsive and lively self, he sometimes surprised you with his more reflective side, the one that appeared when he noticed that you were pensive, that the shadow of what you had experienced with Pierre had reached you.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he told you one day while you were walking through a small medieval town. The narrow streets, full of flowers and color, gave you a sense of calm that only Italy could offer you.

“I know,” you answered, smiling slightly, although it was evident that you still had a hard time letting go of what you had experienced. “It’s just that sometimes I think about everything that happened, and I think I should never have let it go so far.”

Charles looked at you and approached, placing a hand on your shoulder. He didn’t need to say more, because his gesture said it all. He was there for you, not just as a friend, but as someone who wanted to see you happy, free of any kind of emotional burden.

“Don’t worry about it. What matters is that you’re here now, and we’re in this together,” he said, and the sincerity of his words gave you the strength to keep going.

As the days passed in Italy, things between you and Charles began to change in subtle, but inevitable ways. The first day was just an escape, a respite from the pain Pierre had left behind, but you soon realized that being with Charles in that environment, without the shadows of everyday life, was making you feel something new, something you hadn’t anticipated.

Charles was excellent company, with his sarcastic humor and contagious energy, always ready to make you laugh even when your thoughts wandered to pain.

One afternoon, as they walked down a path between olive trees, Charles began to talk about his life, about his unfulfilled dreams of becoming a world champion, as if he was truly enjoying the company, as if the noise of the world had disappeared. When dinner time came, they sat together at a small table in the garden, with candles lighting the atmosphere and a glass of wine in their hands.

“Did you know that when I was a kid, I thought Italy was the perfect place to live?” Charles said, looking out at the landscape, as if he was reliving his childhood. There was something in his voice that made you think that, although he was always the impulsive and fun-loving boy, there was a side of him that he never fully showed.

“Really?” you asked, intrigued, and smiled at him as you took a sip of wine.

“Yes,” he replied, smiling back, but now with a softer touch on his face. “My family used to come here during the holidays. Italy has something magical, don’t you think?”

You nodded slowly. Something about the atmosphere, the tranquility that enveloped everything, was certainly special.

Every day passed so naturally. On the walks, the comfortable silences, the shared laughter, the deep conversations during dinner or at the end of the day, when you sat on the terraces to watch the sunset, everything seemed to fit together, as if you were both in the right place, at the perfect time. Charles' presence calmed you, made you feel protected and, for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe without the anguish that had been drowning you.

On one of those afternoons, after a long walk in the hills, when the light of day was already beginning to fade and the fresh air was felt on your skin, Charles moved closer to you.

“You know, I’m glad we made this trip,” he said, walking close to you, with a look you couldn’t quite read. “I want you to know that even though I’m a little… unpredictable at times, you can count on me for anything.”

There was a silence between you as you walked together, as if the words had become more meaningful, heavier. At that moment, you realized something: Charles had been an unconditional friend.

The tension in the air between you was palpable, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was more of an attraction that grew little by little, unhurriedly, but inevitably.

Despite the serenity that Italy brought, there was something you couldn’t avoid, something that kept stalking you. Camille’s messages were starting to become more and more frequent. At first, you ignored them, thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be the right time to deal with what had happened between her, Pierre, and you. But, as the days went by, the messages became more persistent, more urgent.

Camille: "I need to talk to you, please. I know things aren't right, but we have to talk."

Camille: "I miss you, can we fix this? I don't know how to fix this, but I feel so bad..."

The messages were always similar, asking for a chance to explain herself, to tell her side of the story. You knew it wouldn't be easy, that nothing she said could erase what she had done, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel guilty for not giving her the chance to explain. The problem was that, deep down, you knew you didn't want to talk to her. You had been so devastated, so broken by the betrayal, that it was impossible for you to find the right words to forgive her, or even to listen to her.

One day, while walking through a nearby villa, Charles noticed that you were staring at your phone, distracted. You didn't give it much importance, but he, as always attentive to your gestures, came a little closer.

"Everything okay?" “He asked softly, stopping beside you.

You looked at the phone in your hand, seeing Camille’s latest text. The temptation to respond, to end it all, was rife, but then you remembered what Charles had said: “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You took a deep breath, feeling like even if you wanted to work things out, this wasn’t the right time or place to do so.

“It’s Camille,” you said, trying to sound calm. “She’s been texting me all the time. She wants to talk… but I don’t know if she should.”

Charles didn’t say anything at first, but his look said it all. He didn’t need to explain further.

“I understand,” he replied, his voice firm, but also soft. He moved a little closer, walking beside you. “Sometimes people do things they can’t undo, and even if she wants to explain herself, I don’t think that will change what happened. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do something out of responsibility or fear. You have every right to decide what’s best for you.”

You were surprised by how Charles had handled the situation. It wasn’t just a matter of being there for you; he seemed to understand you beyond words. You felt cared for, supported, and that was something you had never experienced so clearly. Camille’s words seemed to fade away in Charles’ calm presence.

‘What if I just stop responding? What if we never talk again?’ you thought to yourself.

“Sometimes when someone hurts you, it’s best to let it go,” Charles said, not looking at you, but his confident voice made a shiver run through your body. “You don’t need to solve everything. You don’t have to heal the wound right away.” Just do what makes you feel better.

His words resonated within you. For the first time in days, you began to feel like you could truly let go of Camille and Pierre without feeling the pressure of having to face it all. The relief of taking control of the situation spread like a wave of calm.

You decided you wouldn’t respond to Camille. Not right now. You were learning to set boundaries, to recognize what really mattered at this point in your life.

The next night, after dinner, Charles sat next to you on the terrace, looking up at the stars, and broke the silence with a smile.

“Have you?” he asked, knowing what he meant.

You looked at him, a little surprised by his question, but the answer came easily, as if you had been waiting for that moment to finally make a decision.

“Yes,” you said, looking at your phone one last time before putting it back in your pocket. “I’ve decided not to respond. I need to focus on myself now.”

Charles nodded, satisfied, and moved a little closer.

“That’s good,” he said, his tone making it clear that, in his eyes, you had done the right thing.

And even as Camille continued to text, your mind and heart were beginning to free itself.

The atmosphere in Italy had already changed by then. Everything felt different, more intense. Although it had all started as an escape, a simple respite from what you had left behind, now things between you and Charles were clear. There was something else in the air, something you couldn't deny, even if you tried.

That evening, the villa was particularly quiet, the fresh mountain air caressing the skin, and the dim lights on the terrace creating an almost magical atmosphere. They had spent the afternoon touring a small nearby town, exploring local shops and enjoying Italian cuisine. It had been a day full of laughter, of shared glances, of small gestures that, although not obvious to the rest, were clear as day to both of them.

After dinner, in which everything seemed to happen with overwhelming naturalness, they retired to the living room, where the fireplace was already burning softly. The villa was silent, as if the outside world had been left behind. Charles approached you, offering you a glass of wine as he sat down beside you, closer than he usually was. Your breathing quickened a little, as if a fate you couldn’t resist was drawing nearer.

The words trailed off little by little. The silence between you two was filled with a palpable tension, an energy that only the two of you could understand. You realized that, in all that time, what was between you two wasn’t just friendship, it wasn’t just support. It was something much deeper, more visceral. And, for the first time, fear didn’t invade you. There was no doubt in your mind, only an overwhelming desire to be closer to him.

“You know, sometimes I wonder how we got here,” Charles said, his voice deep and low, as he looked into your eyes. There was something in his tone that made you understand that, just like you, he already knew. You already knew that tonight wouldn’t be like the others.

Without thinking, you took a sip of wine, trying to calm the racing heartbeat in your chest, but you knew it wasn’t just the wine that was affecting you. It was Charles’ closeness, the warmth of his body beside you, the way his eyes kept scanning your face, like he was searching for something, like he was waiting for your permission, or like he had already crossed that line without either of you saying it out loud.

“Maybe…” you whispered, staring at him. “Maybe this was all meant to be.”

Charles’ response was immediate, and before you could say anything else, he moved a little closer. His breath, warm and slightly intoxicating, mingled with yours as his hands, gentle but firm, settled on your shoulders. At that moment, you knew. There was no turning back.

The contact between the two of you was subtle at first, almost like a test, a check to see if you were both willing to move forward. But the desire, that raw, unadorned desire, became unstoppable. He didn’t say anything else. His mouth moved closer to yours, and when your lips finally met, it was like all the weight of the world melted away. It was a soft kiss at first, but with each second it intensified, as if the touch of your lips was just the beginning of something much deeper.

Your hands slid to his neck, pulling him towards you, as you gave yourself over completely to that moment, to that connection that had been slowly building over those days in Italy. The barrier between the two of you was completely broken. There was no longer room for doubt or the past. There was only the now, the shared present in which Charles and you were no longer just two friends, but something more, something that could not be ignored.

The intensity of the kiss increased, and Charles gently laid you down on the couch, his body now closer to yours, almost merging. Everything you had been holding back, all the pain, doubts and uncertainties, vanished in the electricity of the moment. There were no words, only the sound of labored breathing and the beating of hearts in unison. Each touch was more urgent, more demanding, as if the world around you did not exist and only the palpable desire between you remained.

Desire took hold of both of you without reservation. The connection you shared went beyond physical attraction; There was a deep need to be together, to explore everything you had been holding back, to take that friendship to a whole new place. And, even though you knew things would never be the same again, you couldn't do anything but surrender to the intensity of the passion you shared in that instant.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathing heavily, but with a feeling of having crossed a line that could no longer be erased.

Charles, with a mischievous smile on his lips, looked at you and, with his voice heavy with desire, whispered:

“That… wasn't just a kiss, was it?.”

The sparkle in his eyes reflected the same thing you felt deep within your soul. You knew that what had happened between you two wasn’t just a passing desire. It was something that would change the dynamic between the two of you forever. But at that moment, in that villa, with the cold wind blowing outside and the fireplace burning softly inside, it didn’t matter what the future held for you.

All that mattered was the desire you shared and the fact that, for the first time in a long time, you felt completely alive, completely present in what was happening between you and Charles.

The night dragged on, but time seemed to have stopped, as if the universe itself had been suspended between the accelerated heartbeats of both of you. The air in the villa, permeated with the mixture of your perfume and the woody scent of the fire, seemed to envelop you, making you feel closer to Charles, more connected to everything you had just shared.

You lay back in the chair for a moment, staring up at the ceiling, still processing what had happened. The taste of his mouth was still on yours, and the warmth of his body was still there. Despite the unexpectedness of the situation, there wasn’t a hint of regret.

Charles, for his part, was also silent, his eyes fixed on you. He seemed so serene, so calm, as if everything was natural, as if you had both been waiting for this moment. Finally, he broke the silence.

“Do you regret it?” he asked, his tone soft but with a slight tension, as if he was searching for any sign of doubt in your eyes.

You turned to him, looking into his eyes, and felt a warmth run through your body. You could see in his expression that he already knew the answer. There was no need to talk about it, but something inside you needed to confirm that you were both on the same page.

“No,” you answered, the word firmly coming out of your lips. “I don’t regret it.”

Charles smiled, his expression relaxed, as if he had dropped an invisible burden that you had both been carrying for days. He leaned back, his body close to yours, as if he didn't want to separate for even a second.

"Me neither," he said in a deep voice, his hand sliding towards yours and intertwining it with yours, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Time passed without you noticing, between soft conversations, shared laughter and knowing glances. There was no need for more words, just the feeling that the moment was flowing in a way that neither of you had anticipated, but that, somehow, both of you wanted.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1

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literaryvein-reblogs · 5 months ago

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Word List: Dance

for your next poem/story

Allemande - a 17th and 18th century court dance developed in France from a German folk dance; a dance step with arms interlaced

Beguine - a vigorous popular dance of the islands of Saint Lucia and Martinique that somewhat resembles the rumba

Bourrée - a 17th century French dance usually in quick duple time

Cabriole - a ballet leap in which one leg is extended in midair and the other struck against it

Chaconne - an old Spanish dance tune of Latin American origin

Czardas - a Hungarian dance to music in duple time in which the dancers start slowly and finish with a rapid whirl

Estampie - a usually textless, monophonic musical work of the late Middle Ages consisting of several repeated units that probably accompanied a dance

Farandole - a lively Provençal dance in which men and women hold hands, form a chain, and follow a leader through a serpentine course

Gavotte - a dance of French peasant origin marked by the raising rather than sliding of the feet

Hora - a circle dance

Juba - a dance that was accompanied by complex rhythmic hand clapping and slapping of the knees and thighs and that was performed on plantations in the southern U.S. by enslaved Black people

Kolo - a central European folk dance in which dancers form a circle and progress slowly to right or left while one or more dancers perform elaborate steps in the center

Lavolta - an early French couple dance characterized by pivoting and making high springs or bounds

Matachin - a dance performed by a matachin (i.e., a sword dancer in a fantastic costume)

Maxixe - a ballroom dance of Brazilian origin that resembles the two-step

Mazurka - a Polish folk dance in moderate triple measure

Passacaglia - an old dance performed to a passacaglia (i.e., an old Italian or Spanish dance tune consisting of variations usually on a ground bass in moderately slow triple time)

Pavane - a stately court dance by couples that was introduced from southern Europe into England in the 16th century

Quadrille - a square dance for four couples made up of five or six figures chiefly in ⁶/₈ and ²/₄ time

Rigadoon - a lively dance of the 17th and 18th centuries

Saltarello - an Italian dance with a lively hop step beginning each measure

Strathspey - a Scottish dance that is similar to but slower than the reel

Tarantella - a lively folk dance of southern Italy in ⁶/₈ time

Varsovienne - a graceful dance similar to a mazurka and popular in many European countries, Mexico, and the U.S.

Zamacueca - a South American especially Chilean courtship dance

More: Word Lists

#dance #word list #writing inspiration #writeblr #langblr #linguistics #dark academia #spilled ink #poetry #writing reference #writing prompt #creative writing #light academia #literature #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #thomas dewing #writing resources

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cutehoons02 · 2 months ago

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♡ would enhypen call you as your bf or as you would call it♡

*synopsis: (reaction) what the enhypen members call you or what you call them to make fun of them

༄07T༄

(English is not my native language)

—REBLOG if you enjoyed

Jay (Amore mio)

Jay loved everything about the world of Italy, from fashion, good food, delicious vastness of fine wines that could be discovered and tasted in the wonderful Italian regions, to historical and artistic beauties that could be found in northern Italy, the center and south, and the merry approach that the fans had. After being in Italy for almost a week he had come across a couple at dawn in a delicious cafe and heard his beloved husband calling his beloved wife "Amore mio", he had written it on his phone and after the 11 hours of the plane ride he had it in his mind and how it sounded with his Korean and American accent, but to him, it sounded divinely and sweetly, he was looking forward to going home, to see you and say those words whispered in your ear because Jay was the representation of the prince charming who wrote himself countless gnomes to give you but "Amore mio" had become his nickname for him because you were seriously his love from the first day he saw you. After taking a shower to chase away the fatigue of those 11 hours of plane was super exciting to tell you that words, you were preparing pasta with sauce and you were turned to taste the delicious sauce that you had prepared for your boyfriend, you allowed him to approach slowly and felt your arms wrap around your back and then the waist and a light kiss at the top of your lobe in your ear. "You’re so beautiful, amore mio" when you heard those words a slight redness crept into your cheeks and your sunflower to find yourself a Jay with the hair slightly glued to the forehead for the heat of the shower and with the reddened cheeks that looked at you with eyes of true lover.

Jake (Teddy bear)

The sunset was now leaving light shades of pink and orange in the sky above Jeju beach, you were embraced by Jake’s strong arms and his chest, the wind was beginning to rise and a light breezy breeze cradled your two bodies sitting in a sheet to admire the sun that was setting and the boats that were returning to the port. You looked at your boy and marveled by the light reflection that he was coming between his face and with one hand you took a tuft of it from his forehead, he was always wonderful but you loved spending days like these where he seemed to be a guy with his joys and worries for his future; You felt his warm hand go under your sweatshirt and form light circles behind your back and you cuddled even more to him. " You know i love you Y/n" You watched with a laugh Jake "I love you too, teddy bear" You saw him look up and say, "Oh my god how many times i told you not to call me teddy bear, you want by chance the war y/n!" Jake pushed you slightly into the towel and some hands went to make you suntan between your hips " Jake we all know that you are a cuckold teddy with all". You raised your arms slightly and took his face with your little hands and began to kiss him first the forehead, the cheeks and then your lips slightly cracked were put in his in a light kiss, you felt his hands no longer make you sunny but they put on your jacket to support and looked at you laughing "Maybe you’re right i love being your favorite cuddly puppy!"

Sunghoon (Angel)

Sunghoon did not believe much in fate, he was a very pragmatic person and if something had to happen it should be him who made it happen, not someone on whom people wanted to meet or create situations. Sunghoon was a cold person at first impact with people, had to study them and every conversation he had at the beginning with someone he did not know had been carefully He did not want to be cynical or difficult with people but also not too friendly because it was not in his nature. A day break from the hectic world of Kpop events had taken place at night in his now former favorite place when he was little but which he had begun to hate during his teenage years, the ice rink in Seoul had always been the same as before but when he went there to train it was him that people looked at and admired but now things were reversed, you his angel down to earth that for 6 months now had carob with your elegance but also with your sarcastic ways of teasing him that you were better than him skating. He knew of your existence from high school when he first saw you at the age of 14 but had never had the rush to talk to you only to admire you from afar. When he left the world of skating for K-pop he did not expect you to recognize him because you were the ice star already a teenager and now you were in the prime of your career as a skater. Hoon slipped into the ice careful not to be heard by you that you had headphones in your ears to memorize the steps and he girded your hips and made you spin in front of him, you had half-waved hair in your tail and cheeks reddened from the cold but for him you were perfect at that moment, "Hello Angel, look who came to see you at almost midnight" looked at Hoon with a twinkle in his eyes and opened his jacket to rest your head in his chest and slightly warm up from his body. " You could have told me that you would come to see me so i would have prepared myself slightly and thought that i had some curfew to respect" A slight redness crept into the cheeks of Hoon and squeezed you harder "Angel you’re always beautiful to me and maybe i snuck out of my dorm room to corrupt Niki!" You lifted your head from his chest and looked at him "Oh my god i’m creating a little bad boy if your fans found out what they would think of the most vampire-human i’ve ever met in my life!" Hoon took your hand and you started skating slowly attached to give you warmth "Well it would be worth it because i would spend hours watching Angel in secret at any time of day or night".

Sunoo (Baby)

Sunoo was everything to you, your boyfriend, your lifeline, your best friend, and your favorite listener. You were lying in your comfortable bed with painful cramps in the belly because of the cycle and at the same time you were bored because there was nothing that took your curiosity on Netflix, you had written to Sunoo half an hour ago if he wanted to come and visit you just to spend an hour together to cuddle you and eat some snacks but he hadn’t answered yet and maybe he was training or recording something even though he was a boring Sunday afternoon and out even if it was only 16 he was already doing oxen. You heard your friends with whom you shared the apartment laugh and after a few seconds, you felt the door of your room open with her blonde hair your boyfriend entered cold from the harsh temperatures of Seoul, and in his hand had a glass of hot chocolate, snacks, and a small heated panty holder to make you put it where you were most uncomfortable and to relieve even that little menstrual pain. " Hi baby, i’m sorry if i didn’t answer you but when you told me if we could meet because you were bored and because you were sick i had the perfect excuse to get out of that chaos of the dorm with which i share with those human monsters!" a light laugh came out of your lips and opened your arms and you clung to him as koala to the lower part of his life "I missed you so much, I don't know if it is the hormones ball but i seriously need cuddles especially if they are yours Sunoo" a slight blush invaded the cheeks of Sunoo, you were quite introverted with everyone but when you were with Sunoo you became a different person and was proud to have only him this power. "Come here baby, i missed you too and in this week of hard work, i rarely had a moment to relax" Sunoo lay down in your bed and you cuddler to his chest and smelled his favorite sweet scent of Lush, "I’m so lucky to have you by my side Sunoo", "Woo but where does all this little sweetness come from? the cycle i know cannot last you a few days longer because you are so sweet to me only in your red days!"

Heeseung (Rameonlover)

One thing you loved about Heeseung was the more introverted and nerdy part he had with you in your relationship, you loved to see him turn into a hot guy when he was on stage, while dancing while singing, While he was flirting with the fans but then with you he was super sweet but sexy at the same time. You watched him use his big hands in the joystick of the play and while he grumbled if he could not defeat some monster, “do you want a picture of me Y/n? You’re losing the drool right here from your beautiful little mouth" You slapped him gently on the arm while he gently touched the bottom of your lip "Stop rameonlover know that I find you extremely attractive while playing at play" You saw him stretch and lift his eyes, you knew he had it in for you because your eyes were immediately set where you could see his perfect muscles "Do you find me attractive only while i play or even when i prepare the ramen, while Ii kiss your neck with my hair unkempt, while you come to spy on me while i dance with the muscles of my arms in plain sight or while i’m standing over you?" You hated him with all your heart because from the first day I saw him Hee made you taste those famous butterflies in your stomach and when he was in your range you always watched him, "Rameonlover lowers your ego a little bit because these things can be done by all the guys in this world and who knows maybe some are more attractive than you!"; Hee when I felt this phrase took you for life and with a little scream from your part put you in his legs and looked at you with his famous pout "Don’t try to make me jealous because you’re my y/n" felt his meaty lips give you small kisses on the neck and pulled his hair "Rameonlover please" Heeseung pinched your side and look at you with questioning "Stop bending me down Rameonlover even in these moments, i’m Heeseung or Hee to you, not that stupid nickname that he gave me Jake!”

Niki (Mochi)

Being the girlfriend of the youngest member of the group was fun because each member teased Niki but at the same time all members controlled you and this made her happy but when they became too protective or insistent in knowing what you were doing or with Who you saw outside of them was not good enough for you. You were sitting in the studio of Hybe watching your boyfriend Niki try to record new music, I saw it from the big mirror that hoped for the studio and you were really happy with all the success that was receiving. You felt the door open and a guy you had never seen sat next to you, sure was another idol but honestly you did not follow other idols or groups beyond Enhypen. "Are you a friend of Niki’s or his sister? Yes, he has two sisters but you don’t look very alike" look a little uncomfortable the boy because you are slightly shy with strangers especially with males "Uh no I’m Niki’s girlfriend" the guy in front of you looked at you with a look of surprise "are you kidding right? Niki never told us that he had a girlfriend, sure of wanting to be with the smallest of the group I think you deserve better" looked badly the guy in front of you "honestly who do you think you are to tell me something like this? I love my boyfriend and I sure don’t need anyone else" your shyness faded when you heard this phrase and Niki, Jungwon, and Hee heard you across the room and Niki felt a sense of admiration towards you and love for defending your relationship. She left the room and stood by your side "I never saw you so angry with a boy, what happened to the shy girl I know!" You felt your cheeks turn slightly red both for the initial embarrassment and also for the nickname he used, he only used it when you were alone to make fun instead of two other companions having heard it. “Did you hear what he called it? Mochi, oh my god we just lost it for this girl" Jungwon laughed and Hee hugged you both "Well I think we don’t have to worry about Y/ n anymore, she can do it herself even with the boys, that idol ran away when she saw you angry."

Jungwon (Kitten)

Loved walking near the Han River in Seoul especially at night while seeing all the lights of the city lit up and the various bridges that splashed water and made colorful water games. Near the river, there were a lot of parks and each park had small shelters for animals, especially for cats, you were a team dog but since you were with Jungwon, you were pretty indecisive about the question "Do you prefer dogs or cats?". You had your hand in Jungwon’s pocket as you passed by the river bank until you heard a slight meow coming from the pig and looked at Jungwon, "Kittie you’ve always been a dog lover don’t tell me I’m making you change your mind with my cat look!" Jungwon was beautiful but one thing you loved most about him was his big, long expressive eyes and he looked like a cat. "You’re not the stupid one who made me passionate about cats but you know I’ve always been a cat lover" Jungwon pulled you across the street and you reached the little house that was in the middle of the park with cats inside all wrapped up to get warm. "Kitten you know we can’t take home more, we already have two, the world won’t go on only with cats or animals you have to make children!" Pushed slightly Jungwon and corsí across the park "I’m sure not going to have children with someone who calls me Kitten or with an obsession for strawberries and chocolate" Jungwon ran to you and took you lightly in his arms "Y/n would be good with our beautiful genes, they would come out with beautiful cat eyes and the beautiful character of my beautiful Kitten!"

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mariacallous · 22 days ago

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Winter is citrus season. The sweetest and juiciest oranges, lemons and grapefruits appear in stores just when we seem to need them the most. What could be more welcome on a gray January day than a sunny burst of vitamin C from your favorite citrus fruit?

Not only are citrus fruits delicious and healthy, but they also have a long association with the Jewish people. Humans have cultivated citrus fruits, which originally came from south and east Asia, for thousands of years. Indeed, we Jews are aware, if perhaps unconsciously, of the ancient connection between humans and citrus fruits because of how we celebrate the festival of Sukkot. An etrog— which in botanical terms is an ancient citrus variety known as a citron — is an essential part of that holiday observance. While the Bible does not mention the etrog by name, the citron was identified as the required “fruit of the goodly tree” as early as the second century B.C.E.

As Jews began to spread out into the Diaspora during the late Roman Empire, they had to ensure that, come autumn, they could still find a perfect etrog to use for this important religious observance. Thus, one of the many agricultural activities these settlers engaged in was cultivating citrons. (Interestingly, these early centers of Jewish population coincide with continued areas of citrus production in the Mediterranean today: southern Spain, Sicily and Calabria in Italy, the Nile Delta, the Levant and Algeria.) Many scholars attribute the continued cultivation of citrus fruits in Europe following the collapse of the Roman empire, and the ensuing chaos, to Jewish horticulturists whose need for the fruit was undiminished.

The cultivation of other citrus species was a byproduct of these early Jewish settlers’ need for citron. Almost all citrus varieties are sexually compatible with one another, and they are highly prone to mutation. Such traits allowed their genes to mix naturally for thousands of years and made it feasible for humans to cross-breed the different varieties. Indeed, just about every citrus fruit you have ever seen comes from just three ancestors: the citron, the pomelo and the mandarin.

From the 10th century onward, citron trees served as grafting stock for other kinds of citrus. By the end of the 13th century, fruits that we would recognize as oranges and lemons were widely grown in the land of Israel and by the next century Jewish merchants, through their contacts in the Levant began importing them to Italy.

Thus began the long association between Jews and the citrus trade in the eyes of Europeans. Starting in the Middle Ages, Jewish merchants traveled from the Mediterranean to northern and eastern Europe with citrons to sell to their brothers and sisters living in colder climes. This led to a thriving trade in all kinds of citrus, not merely etrogs, and not only to Jewish customers. Italian Jewish traders who settled in Germany used their contacts to import citrus from the Mediterranean to sell to any customers who could afford the high price. In 18th-century England, Jewish peddlers were known to specialize in citrus fruits.

Beginning in the 19th century, Zionist rabbis and other Jewish leaders began encouraging their followers to seek out citrons grown in Palestine instead of those grown around the Mediterranean. This was due in part to anti-Jewish riots on the Greek island of Corfu where many of the citrons destined for northern Europe were grown. Today, of course, Israeli farmers continue to grow and export citrus — more to Europe than to the United States, which has its own robust citrus industry — especially the famous Jaffa orange, which in the 1950s and ’60s was a symbol of pride for the young nation.

So, when you peel a perfect round orange or squeeze some lemon into your tea this winter, know that it is in large part due to the efforts of Jewish farmers and merchants from centuries ago that today we enjoy such a wide variety of citrus fruits.

In that spirit, at this bountiful time of year, do not limit yourselves to the familiar lemons, limes and navel oranges. Explore the whole range of citrus fruits from blood oranges and Key limes to Meyer lemons, pomelos and kumquats. Your local grocery store should have a wide variety of these novel citrus fruits available through March. Here is a guide to some of the best of winter citrus for your enjoyment.

Blood Orange: There are three types — Moro, Tarocco and Sanguinello — with a flavor that ranges from tart to semi-sweet depending on the type and season. Named for the deep, beet red color of their flesh, blood oranges are usually smaller than navel oranges and have a dimpled peel. Because of its unique color, the blood orange is often incorporated into recipes, from cocktails to preserves.

Cara Cara: Chefs love this pink-fleshed navel orange. It’s slightly sweeter and less acidic than a regular orange and has a very delicate berry flavor. Use this variety in place of oranges in any recipe or add them to a citrus salad for extra color and brightness.

Seville Sour Orange: This variety is sometimes called the bitter orange and commonly used in the production of marmalade. The Seville is tart and grown throughout the Mediterranean, but can be hard to find in the U.S. It’s also the a key ingredient in the orange-flavored liqueur Triple Sec.

Meyer Lemons: This lemon-orange hybrid is the darling of the citrus world. Its rind is a vibrant, deep yellow and has a strongly perfumed, almost herbal aroma. Its flesh is darker in color than a regular lemon and more sweet than tart, which means you can use the raw segments in a salad, much like an orange or grapefruit. Delicious in baked goods, marmalade or lemon curd.

Key Limes: Smaller than its cousin, the Persian lime, the Key lime is particularly juicy and acidic. It has a smooth rind, a greenish-yellow color when ripe and lots of seeds. Key limes have a distinctive aroma and taste which make them a favorite of bakers everywhere. Of course, pie is what Key limes are best known for, but you can substitute Key lime juice in any lime recipe for a fresh twist.

Pomelos: Often the size of bowling balls, pomelos can look intimidating. The rind can range in color from yellow to green, and the pulp can be white, pink, or somewhere in between. The pith is very thick, so it’s best to cut away as much of the rind and pith as you can first before peeling away at its segments. Think of the taste of a pomelo as akin to a mild grapefruit—sweet and without bitterness. Pomelos are common in southeast Asian cuisine.

Kumquats: You can actually eat the skin of these tiny citrus fruits. About the size of a large olive, kumquats tend to be sweet on the outside and quite tart on the inside. You can slice them into salads, muddle them in a cocktail, candy them or even cook them down into a sweet and spicy chutney.

Buddha’s Hand: This citrus easily wins the prize for most bizarre looking. The fingerlike fruit has a complex lemon aroma and actually contains no pulp or juice—it’s made up of a yellow rind and white pith. The rind can be used in any place lemon zest is called for, or try candying the peel.

Craving some citrus? Try one of these:

Moroccan Orange and Black Olive Salad

Orange and Pomegranate Salad

Lemon Chicken Soup with Swiss Chard and Rice

Blood Orange Martini

Lemon Sponge Cake with Candied Citrus

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mammonscheeks · 7 months ago

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demon brothers + dateables as destinations in the human world

✎ a/n: these are my opinions! i'm south and west asian, so i am most knowlegeable about those countries, please correct me if i've said anything incorrect!

LUCIFER

new york city, usa. he likes the cold, industrial corporate feel of nyc. it helps him avoid his feelings.

anywhere in germany. he likes their no-nonsense culture and unspoken social rules.

MAMMON

las vegas, nevada, usa. he always begs mc to take him there. the flashy lights and casinos are right up his alley.

dubai, uae. he loves the luxurious feel of it, and how its the center of celebrity gatherings, vacations, and parties.

LEVIATHAN

tokyo, japan (especially the akihabara/electronic district). he's always updated on pop culture and the newest technology/games.

seychelles island, africa. he likes swimming, but not socializing on the beach. that's why he likes isolated islands.

SATAN

london, england. he's interested in their medival history and seeing the places that inspired novels like harry potter and the sherlock holmes franchise.

cat island in japan, or any mediterranean country where cats freely roam.

ASMODEUS

paris, france. he'd love paris fashion week. he also just seems french to me, idk.

seoul, south korea. he'd adore seoul's culture, everything from the modern sappy kdramas to traditional dresses, like hanbok. he would bring an empty suitcase to stuff it with beauty products.

BEELZEBUB

mumbai, india. this metropolitan city in india offers so many different kinds of food. he would love to eat his way through the city, if not the entire country.

every city in mexico. he'd try the regional cuisine, but also hang out at the beach with his brothers and mc (so cute).

BELPHEGOR

cairo, egypt. he was once fascinated with humans, and often watched them build civilizations from heaven when he was an angel. he would enjoy the historical wonders of egypt.

reykjavic, iceland. idk why he just gives me iceland vibes. life there can be slow and cold, and it often gets less light than other countries.

DIAVOLO

transylvania, romania. he loves its breathtaking castles and culture, and is intrigued with all the pop culture references of vampires.

petra, jordan. this is a significant place in abrahamic religions, known for being haunted by demons, or jinn. diavolo would be fascinated by this history, whether its actually haunted or not. i know he'd eat up those scary ghost tours (insert fic about that here) and even probably try and scare a few tourist groups, despite barbatos advising him against it.

BARBATOS

istanbul, turkiye. istanbul has well-maintained structures from the byzantine empire, the ottoman empire, and even "newer and hip" neighborhoods. barbatos, being able to see the past and future, would appreciate the blend of it all here, like he's walking through time.

kathmandu, nepal. he'd enjoy the peace of monasteries and mountains, which are as old as the earth itself.

SIMEON

tuscany, italy. he'd enjoy the vast fields, heavenly sunsets, small towns and historic churches. he would find tuscany a peaceful place to write, but appreciates the community feel of small italian towns. would definitely be so friendly he'd get invited to eat dinner at a random family's house.

thessaloniki, greece. he would absolutely love seeing all the greek orthodox churches there, with their blue and white colors and dome roofs. he is just amused to see the religious structures humans have created. he'd also probably be interested in greek mythology, even though he's an angel.

LUKE

cape town, south africa. he would be so excited to see penguins at the beach and would enjoy the burst of color south africa offers. he'd also enjoy the modern bakeries and desserts in south africa.

lyon, france. the country is known for desserts. luke would probably take a baking class there to learn how to bake more things.

SOLOMON

salem, or just any small town in massachusetts. as a sorcerer, he's intrigued with their history of "witch hunting" and the paranormal.

lalibela, ethiopia. being old, he's intrigued with how ancient cities like lalibela have changed since biblical times. he also probably enjoys learning about different cultural practices and what they have in common with his sorcery. he also wants to learn how to cook more dishes from different countries, but fails miserably

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me hc #obey me hcs #obey me shall we date #obey me brothers #obey me imagines #obey me dateables

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physics-of-one-piece · 5 months ago

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Timezones in One Piece World

I am back with a physics post! Well, more meteorology/geography post!

I was inspired to create a timezone map after reading the newest chapter of Doflamingo's Marine by @moonbaby26 where a timezone difference was mentioned, which was a great detail! I remember thinking about timezones in OP world but never got around to it but I did now. So it made me wonder just what timezone is Dressrosa (my fav island 🤗) in, what timezone are the other islands in?

SO!

I pulled a grid of irl timezones, simplified it, and put it over the One Piece World Map! (You can see some parts where I was like, no keep it simple, simplify it).

HERE IT IS!

UTC is coordinated universal time, aka time in the center of the world. Anyway, here are the islands + locations and I'll put some ANs for some cus some are interesting.

Paradise:

Reverse Mountain [UTC -1]

Red Line Center [UTC -1]

Twin Cape [UTC 0] Greenwhich Mean Time,

📍Iceland

I find it PERFECT the exit from Reverse Mountain into Grand Line are the ones in the center of the One Piece World, not the Red Line Itself.

Cactus Island [UTC 0] Western European Time (WET)

📍irl ex: Reykyavik, Iceland

Little Garden [UTC +1] Central European Time (CET)

📍 Italy, Spain

Drum Island [UTC +2] Eastern European Summer Time (EEST)

Alabasta [UTC +3] irl ex:

📍

Jaya [UTC +4]

Skypiea [UTC +4]

Long Ring Rong Island [UTC +5]

Water 7 [UTC +6]

Amazon Lily [UTC +7]

Enies Lobby [UTC +6]

Florian Triangle [UTC +9] Japan Standard Time

Sabaody Archipelago [UTC +10]

Impel Down [UTC +8]

Marineford [UTC +9] Japan Standard Time (JST)

Holy Land of Mariejois [UTC +9] New Zealand Standard Time

Fishman Island [UTC +10]

New World

New Marineford [UTC -8] Baker Island Time (BIT)

Punk Hazard [UTC -8] Samoa Standard Time (SST)

Dressrosa [UTC -7] Pacific Daylight Time

📍 Los Angeles

It used to be in Hawaii, it fit so much, whyyyy 😭😭

Totto Land [UTC -5] Eastern Standard Time

📍irl ex: Florida, U.S.

Wano Country [UTC -4]

📍irl ex:

Uf, I think that's all the big locations. I recommend using just the UTC and then you go minus or plus just so you don't have to go converting everything. The One Piece world most likely just says "Universal Time + (number)" or sth.

So, for example, if it's 17:00 (5 pm) in Marineford (UTC +9) on a Monday, it will then be 1 am on Monday in Dressrosa.

17 - 9 (to get UTC 0) = 8 am Monday (UTC 0)

Then another -7 hours, you get Monday 1 am (UTC -7) in Dressrosa. So Dressrosa is 16 HOURS behind Original Marineford.

Interesting how Doflamingo settled in Dressrosa, which is the entire 22 hours behind Holy Land by time, symbolising how his family abandoned the privileges of Celestial Dragons. Nice.

Also, for the Blues, regarding seasons:

North Blue & East Blue = North Hemisphere such as Europe & U.S. (winter months - December, January, February)

West Blue & South Blue - South Hemisphere (like Australia & New Zealand) so the winter months are June, July, August.

The seasons are interchangable in the Grand Line depending on the islands!

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

#one piece #one piece fandom #one piece meta #physics of one piece #put in the tags which island you live on #i'm in little garden 😭😭

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tomorrowusa · 11 months ago

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Four years ago today (March 13th), then President Donald Trump got around to declaring a national state of emergency for the COVID-19 pandemic. The administration had been downplaying the danger to the United States for 51 days since the first US infection was confirmed on January 22nd.

From an ABC News article dated 25 February 2020...

CDC warns Americans of 'significant disruption' from coronavirus

Until now, health officials said they'd hoped to prevent community spread in the United States. But following community transmissions in Italy, Iran and South Korea, health officials believe the virus may not be able to be contained at the border and that Americans should prepare for a "significant disruption." This comes in contrast to statements from the Trump administration. Acting Department of Homeland Security Secretary Chad Wolf said Tuesday the threat to the United States from coronavirus "remains low," despite the White House seeking $1.25 billion in emergency funding to combat the virus. Larry Kudlow, director of the National Economic Council, told CNBC’s Kelly Evans on “The Exchange” Tuesday evening, "We have contained the virus very well here in the U.S." [ ... ] House Speaker Nancy Pelosi called the request "long overdue and completely inadequate to the scale of this emergency." She also accused President Trump of leaving "critical positions in charge of managing pandemics at the National Security Council and the Department of Homeland Security vacant." "The president's most recent budget called for slashing funding for the Centers for Disease Control, which is on the front lines of this emergency. And now, he is compounding our vulnerabilities by seeking to ransack funds still needed to keep Ebola in check," Pelosi said in a statement Tuesday morning. "Our state and local governments need serious funding to be ready to respond effectively to any outbreak in the United States. The president should not be raiding money that Congress has appropriated for other life-or-death public health priorities." She added that lawmakers in the House of Representatives "will swiftly advance a strong, strategic funding package that fully addresses the scale and seriousness of this public health crisis." Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer also called the Trump administration's request "too little too late." "That President Trump is trying to steal funds dedicated to fight Ebola -- which is still considered an epidemic in the Democratic Republic of the Congo -- is indicative of his towering incompetence and further proof that he and his administration aren't taking the coronavirus crisis as seriously as they need to be," Schumer said in a statement.

A reminder that Trump had been leaving many positions vacant – part of a Republican strategy to undermine the federal government.

Here's a picture from that ABC piece from a nearly empty restaurant in San Francisco's Chinatown. The screen displays a Trump tweet still downplaying COVID-19 with him seeming more concerned about the effect of the Dow Jones on his re-election bid.

People were not buying Trump's claims but they were buying PPE.

I took this picture at CVS on February 26th that year.

The stock market which Trump in his February tweet claimed looked "very good" was tanking on March 12th – the day before his state of emergency declaration.

Trump succeeded in sending the US economy into recession much faster than George W. Bush did at the end of his term – quite a feat!. (As an aside, every recession in the US since 1981 has been triggered by Republican presidents.)

Of course Trump never stopped trying to downplay the pandemic nor did he ever take responsibility for it. The US ended up with the highest per capita death rate of any technologically advanced country.

Precious time was lost while Trump dawdled. Orange on this map indicates COVID infections while red indicates COVID deaths. At the time Trump declared a state of emergency, the virus had already spread to 49 states.

The United States could have done far better and it certainly had the tools to do so.

The Obama administration had limited the number of US cases of Ebola to under one dozen during that pandemic in the 2010s. Based on their success, they compiled a guide on how the federal government could limit future pandemics.

Obama team left pandemic playbook for Trump administration, officials confirm

Of course Trump ignored it.

Unlike those boxes of nuclear secrets in Trump's bathroom, the Obama pandemic limitation document is not classified. Anybody can read it – even if Trump didn't. This copy comes from the Stanford University Libraries.

TOWARDS EPIDEMIC PREDICTION: FEDERAL EFFORTS AND OPPORTUNITIES IN OUTBREAK MODELING

Feel free to share this post with anybody who still feels nostalgic about the Trump White House years!

#covid-19 #coronavirus #pandemic #public health #donald trump #trump's incompetent response to the pandemic #covid state of emergency #2020 #trump recession #51 days of trump pandemic dawdling #obama pandemic playbook #2010s ebola outbreak #nostalgia for trump administration #republicans #election 2024 #vote blue no matter who

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piracytheorist · 4 days ago

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Things about Greece you're (probably) getting wrong

When you say "Greece" or "Greek", that's automatically referring to Modern Greece and Modern Greek. It's an existing country with a population of around 10 million people. The Modern Greek language is spoken natively by those 10 million along with 1 million people in Cyprus and around 2 more million in diaspora. If you want to refer to Ancient Greece or its history/culture, just add the word "ancient" to it.

The Greek name for the country is "Hellas". "Hellenic" is an adjective used for non-human nouns. Don't call yourself "hellenic" even if you have Greek roots, you're basically calling yourself "Greek thing".

There is no one correct way of pronouncing Ancient Greek as a whole. That language spanned over a thousand years and across places that didn't communicate easily or were outright hostile to each other. It's like claiming that Shakespeare's works should be pronounced with an Australian accent.

Along with the famous 300 Spartans, in the battle of Thermopylae there were also 700 Thespians (not actors, people from the town Thespiae) and according to some sources, also 900 helots (slaves) and 400 Thebans.

The town of Sparta exists in modern day. However, if you visit Greece, unless you actually are from Sparta, do NOT call yourself a Spartan, no matter what school/university you went to. "Spartans" is the name of a far-right, outright neo-nazi political party, so calling yourself that here equals to associating yourself with that.

Greek houses in American campuses sound weird. Do those letters (some of which are wildly mispronounced, btw) even mean anything

Democracy in Ancient Athens was not fair by today's standards. It was mostly a glorified, expanded aristocracy. The "demos" that had the authority to vote only consisted of land-owning Athenian men. If you were a woman, a slave, poor, an immigrant, or a child of immigrants, along with other descriptions I might be forgetting right now, you didn't have the right to participate in the ruling.

Oh yeah, the "birthplace of democracy" very much did have slaves. Some whom were prisoners of war.

Greece is on the southern end of the Balkan peninsula, located in South-Eastern Europe. However, many Greeks are wildly racist and will not admit we're part of the Balkans or Eastern Europe. There are cultural differences due to Greek not belonging in the Slavic languages (the most common language family in Eastern Europe) and for political reasons, but the main reason this distinction happens is very much racism. They prefer to be called a "Mediterranean country" (because then we're associated with countries like Italy and Spain, you know?)

Greece never recovered from the financial crisis of 2008, and has only been going downhill since then. However, the war reparations that Germany never paid Greece for the damages and the deaths it caused in WW2 is estimated to be over 200 billion euros. The German government considers this matter "to be in the past" (since they never paid them, I guess, we can forget about it!), yet is one of the countries that most strongly demands Greece to keep paying back the loans it took over the years from the EU. This is a very painful matter for all of us (especially considering there are people still alive who witnessed the destruction and death the nazis brought to the country, and now they along with their descendants are paying taxes that'll eventually reach German pockets), yet racism centers around hate for other Balkan countries and Turkey. Divide and conquer I guess.

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whencyclopedia · 20 days ago

Photo

Abbey of Saint John at Müstair

The Abbey of Saint John at Müstair, located in the village of Müstair in Canton Graubünden, Switzerland, is an early medieval Benedictine monastery dating to the late 8th century CE that became an abbey in 1163 CE. It is renowned across Europe and the world for its beautiful, intact medieval design and decor, and UNESCO designated it as a World Heritage Site in 1983 CE as a result of its splendid mix of Carolingian figurative murals, Romanesque frescoes, and ancient stuccoes. For over 1200 years, the Abbey of Saint John at Müstair has remained a Benedictine religious community.

Origins

The Abbey of Saint John in Müstair (German: Benediktinerinnenkloster St. Johann; French: Abbaye Saint-Jean-des-Sœurs; Italian: Monastero benedettino di San Giovanni; Romansh: Claustra benedictina da Son Jon) is set deep within the southern Swiss Alps in the Val Müstair, which is in Switzerland's Graubünden Canton. Müstair is the only Swiss territory to be in the Adige Basin, and it is Switzerland's easternmost village. The town of Müstair lies very close to the Swiss-Italian border in South Tyrol, and it is also close to the Swiss-Austrian border at Nauders, Austria. The Abbey of Saint John in Müstair is roughly 130 km (80 miles) from Chur, Switzerland and 65 km (40 miles) from Merano, Italy.

According to local traditions in Graubünden, Charlemagne (King of the Franks from 768-814 CE; King of the Lombards from 774-814 CE; and Holy Roman Emperor from 800-814 CE) founded the monastery at Müstair in the late 8th century CE. Legend states that as Charlemagne traversed the Umbrail Pass between the villages of Bormio and Santa Maria following his coronation as King of the Lombards in nearby Italy in 774 CE, he survived a snowstorm. There and then, Charlemagne decided to establish a monastery on the spot to commemorate his miraculous survival. Dendrochronology confirms that the wood used in the construction of the monastery was felled around c. 775 CE, so the legend could indeed be true. It is likely, however, that it was the Bishop of Chur who founded the monastery at Charlemagne's royal behest; Chur was the traditional capital of Graubünden and remains the canton's largest city too.

Aside from any miraculous survival and piety, Charlemagne undoubtedly recognized the region in and around Müstair as one of strategic and cultural importance. Lying between the trade- and pilgrimage routes, which crisscrossed the Alps between Switzerland, Germany, Austria, and Italy, Müstair was an ideal location for a Benedictine monastery that could operate as a hospice, accommodating pilgrims and travelers in the regions of Valtellina, Tyrol and Engadine. As a religious institution and center, the monastery would be able to tend to the religious needs of the local community as well.

#History #1163CE #AbbeyofSaintJohnatMustair #AbbeyofSaintJohn #WHE #[#]

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mr-styles · 2 years ago

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Harry Styles ‘Love on Tour’ Ends After 173 Concerts for 5.04 Million Fans, and $6.5 Million Donated to Charity

Harry Styles’ world-shaking “Love on Tour” wrapped before a crowd of 100,000 people at Italy’s RCF Arena last week, concluding 173 dates over nearly three years. The tour launched on September 4, 2021 and saw Styles performing to 5.04 million fans in North and South America, the U.K., Europe and Australia — including 20 dates at Madison Square Garden, 18 at the Los Angeles Forum, six at London’s Wembley Stadium, and two sets of “Harryween” concerts — and is the fourth highest-grossing tour of all time, according to the announcement.

Just as significantly, the tour donated some $6.5 million to charities, which are listed below.

He was joined for the tour by a band that features Pauli Lovejoy, Sarah Jones, Mitch Rowland, Madi Diaz, Elin Sandberg, Ariza, Yaffra, Parris Fleming, Kailah Vandever, Lorren Chiodo and Laura Bibbs.

The tour also saw the release of Styles’ third solo album, “Harry’s House,” which won Grammy Awards for album of the year and best pop vocal album, as well as all four BRIT Awards for which it was nominated. The album’s head single, “As It Was,” reached No. 1 in 33 countries—including 15 weeks on top of the Billboard Hot 100.

CHARITIES DONATED TO ON LOVE ON TOUR

Planned Parenthood Choose Love Physicians for Reproductive Health Rebuild Foundation REVERB Black Voters Matter Fund – Capacity Building Institute The Afiya Center International Rescue Committee Intermission Youth Save the Children CARE Every Town for Gun Safety BEAM Theater Gates Rebuild Theater – Venice Program WWWF-Brasil Sydney Zoo Baan Tawan Mai Orphans (Pow Sarin Org) Cribs Foundation Inc. St John’s Home Limitless Children’s Wishing Well SHINE Green Umbrella Children’s Foundation Black Minds Florence Org… “and more.”

Via variety.com

#harry styles #love on tour

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fatehbaz · 1 year ago

Note

hi! SUPER interesting excerpt on ants and empire; adding it to my reading list. have you ever read "mosquito empires," by john mcneill?

Yea, I've read it. (Mosquito Empires: Ecology and War in the Greater Caribbean, 1620-1914, basically about influence of environment and specifically insect-borne disease on colonial/imperial projects. Kinda brings to mind Centering Animals in Latin American History [Few and Tortorici, 2013] and the exploration of the centrality of ecology/plants to colonialism in Plants and Empire: Colonial Bioprospecting in the Atlantic World [Schiebinger, 2007].)

If you're interested: So, in the article we're discussing, Rohan Deb Roy shows how Victorian/Edwardian British scientists, naturalists, academics, administrators, etc., used language/rhetoric to reinforce colonialism while characterizing insects, especially termites in India and elsewhere in the tropics, as "Goths"; "arch scourge of humanity"; "blight of learning"; "destroying hordes"; and "the foe of civilization". [Rohan Deb Roy. “White ants, empire, and entomo-politics in South Asia.” The Historical Journal. October 2019.] He explores how academic and pop-sci literature in the US and Britain participated in racist dehumanization of non-European people by characterizing them as "uncivilized", as insects/animals. (This sort of stuff is summarized by Neel Ahuja, describing interplay of race, gender, class, imperialism, disease/health, anthropomorphism. See Ahuja's “Postcolonial Critique in a Multispecies World.”)

In a different 2018 article on "decolonizing science," Deb Roy also moves closer to the issue of mosquitoes, disease, hygiene, etc. explored in Mosquito Empires. Deb Roy writes: 'Sir Ronald Ross had just returned from an expedition to Sierra Leone. The British doctor had been leading efforts to tackle the malaria that so often killed English colonists in the country, and in December 1899 he gave a lecture to the Liverpool Chamber of Commerce [...]. [H]e argued that "in the coming century, the success of imperialism will depend largely upon success with the microscope."''

Deb Roy also writes elsewhere about "nonhuman empire" and how Empire/colonialism brutalizes, conscripts, employs, narrates other-than-human creatures. See his book Malarial Subjects: Empire, Medicine and Nonhumans in British India, 1820-1909 (published 2017).

---

Like Rohan Deb Roy, Jonathan Saha is another scholar with a similar focus (relationship of other-than-human creatures with British Empire's projects in Asia). Among his articles: "Accumulations and Cascades: Burmese Elephants and the Ecological Impact of British Imperialism." Transactions of the Royal Historical Society. 2022. /// “Colonizing elephants: animal agency, undead capital and imperial science in British Burma.” BJHS Themes. British Society for the History of Science. 2017. /// "Among the Beasts of Burma: Animals and the Politics of Colonial Sensibilities, c. 1840-1940." Journal of Social History. 2015. /// And his book Colonizing Animals: Interspecies Empire in Myanmar (published 2021).

---

Related spirit/focus. If you liked the termite/India excerpt, you might enjoy checking out this similar exploration of political/imperial imagery of bugs a bit later in the twentieth century: Fahim Amir. “Cloudy Swords” e-flux Journal Issue #115. February 2021.

Amir explores not only insect imagery, specifically caricatures of termites in discourse about civilization (like the Deb Roy article about termites in India), but Amir also explores the mosquito/disease aspect invoked by your message (Mosquito Empires) by discussing racially segregated city planning and anti-mosquito architecture in British West Africa and Belgian Congo, as well as anti-mosquito campaigns of fascist Italy and the ascendant US empire. German cities began experiencing a non-native termite infestation problem shortly after German forces participated in violent suppression of resistance in colonial Africa. Meanwhile, during anti-mosquito campaigns in the Panama Canal zone, US authorities imposed forced medical testing of women suspected of carrying disease. Article features interesting statements like: 'The history of the struggle against the [...] mosquito reads like the history of capitalism in the twentieth century: after imperial, colonial, and nationalistic periods of combatting mosquitoes, we are now in the NGO phase, characterized by shrinking [...] health care budgets, privatization [...].' I've shared/posted excerpts before, which I introduce with my added summary of some of the insect-related imagery: “Thousands of tiny Bakunins”. Insects "colonize the colonizers". The German Empire fights bugs. Fascist ants, communist termites, and the “collectivism of shit-eating”. Insects speak, scream, and “go on rampage”.

---

In that Deb Roy article, there is a section where we see that some Victorian writers pontificated on how "ants have colonies and they're quite hard workers, just like us!" or "bugs have their own imperium/domain, like us!" So that bugs can be both reviled and also admired. On a similar note, in the popular imagination, about anthropomorphism of Victorian bugs, and the "celebrated" "industriousness" and "cleverness" of spiders, there is: Claire Charlotte McKechnie. “Spiders, Horror, and Animal Others in Late Victorian Empire Fiction.” Journal of Victorian Culture. December 2012. She also addresses how Victorian literature uses natural science and science fiction to process anxiety about imperialism. This British/Victorian excitement at encountering "exotic" creatures of Empire, and popular discourse which engaged in anthropormorphism, is explored by Eileen Crist's Images of Animals: Anthropomorphism and Animal Mind and O'Connor's The Earth on Show: Fossils and the Poetics of Popular Science, 1802-1856.

Related anthologies include a look at other-than-humans in literature and popular discourse: Gothic Animals: Uncanny Otherness and the Animal With-Out (Heholt and Edmunson, 2020). There are a few studies/scholars which look specifically at "monstrous plants" in the Victorian imagination. Anxiety about gender and imperialism produced caricatures of woman as exotic anthropomorphic plants, as in: “Murderous plants: Victorian Gothic, Darwin and modern insights into vegetable carnivory" (Chase et al., Botanical Journal of the Linnean Society, 2009). Special mention for the work of Anna Boswell, which explores the British anxiety about imperialism reflected in their relationships with and perceptions of "strange" creatures and "alien" ecosystems, especially in Aotearoa. (Check out her “Anamorphic Ecology, or the Return of the Possum.” Transformations. 2018.)

And then bridging the Victorian anthropomorphism of bugs with twentieth-century hygiene campaigns, exploring "domestic sanitation" there is: David Hollingshead. “Women, insects, modernity: American domestic ecologies in the late nineteenth century.” Feminist Modernist Studies. August 2020. (About the cultural/social pressure to protect "the home" from bugs, disease, and "invasion".)

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In fields like geography, history of science, etc., much has been said/written about how botany was the key imperial science/field, and there is the classic quintessential tale of the British pursuit of cinchona from Latin America, to treat mosquito-borne disease among its colonial administrators in Africa, India, and Southeast Asia. In other words: Colonialism, insects, plants in the West Indies shaped and influenced Empire and ecosystems in the East Indies, and vice versa. One overview of this issue from Early Modern era through the Edwardian era, focused on Britain and cinchona: Zaheer Baber. "The Plants of Empire: Botanic Gardens, Colonial Power and Botanical Knowledge." May 2016. Elizabeth DeLoughrey and other scholars of the Caribbean, "the postcolonial," revolutionary Black Atlantic, etc. have written about how plantation slavery in the Caribbean provided a sort of bounded laboratory space. (See Britt Rusert's "Plantation Ecologies: The Experiential Plantation [...].") The argument is that plantations were already of course a sort of botanical laboratory for naturalizing and cultivating valuable commodity plants, but they were also laboratories to observe disease spread and to practice containment/surveillance of slaves and laborers. See also Chakrabarti's Bacteriology in British India: laboratory medicine and the tropics (2012). Sharae Deckard looks at natural history in imperial/colonial imagination and discourse (especially involving the Caribbean, plantations, the sea, and the tropics) looking at "the ecogothic/eco-Gothic", Edenic "nature", monstrous creatures, exoticism, etc. Kinda like Grove's discussion of "tropical Edens" in the colonial imagination of Green Imperialism.

Dante Furioso's article "Sanitary Imperialism" (from e-flux's Sick Architecture series) provides a summary of US entomology and anti-mosquito campaigns in the Caribbean, and how "US imperial concepts about the tropics" and racist pathologization helped influence anti-mosquito campaigns that imposed racial segregation in the midst of hard labor, gendered violence, and surveillance in the Panama Canal zone. A similar look at manipulation of mosquito-borne disease in building empire: Gregg Mitman. “Forgotten Paths of Empire: Ecology, Disease, and Commerce in the Making of Liberia’s Plantation Economy.” Environmental History. 2017. (Basically, some prominent medical schools/departments evolved directly out of US military occupation and industrial plantations of fruit/rubber/sugar corporations; faculty were employed sometimes simultaneously by fruit companies, the military, and academic institutions.) This issue is also addressed by Pratik Chakrabarti in Medicine and Empire, 1600-1960 (2014).

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Meanwhile, there are some other studies that use non-human creatures (like a mosquito) to frame imperialism. Some other stuff that comes to mind about multispecies relationships to empire:

Lawrence H. Kessler. “Entomology and Empire: Settler Colonial Science and the Campaign for Hawaiian Annexation.” Arcadia (Spring 2017)

No Wood, No Kingdom: Political Ecology in the English Atlantic (Keith Pluymers)

Archie Davies. "The racial division of nature: Making land in Recife". Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers Volume 46, Issue 2, pp. 270-283. November 2020.

Yellow Fever, Race, and Ecology in Nineteenth-Century New Orleans (Urmi Engineer Willoughby, 2017)

Pasteur’s Empire: Bacteriology and Politics in France, Its Colonies, and the World (Aro Velmet, 2022)

Tom Brooking and Eric Pawson. “Silences of Grass: Retrieving the Role of Pasture Plants in the Development of New Zealand and the British Empire.” The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History. August 2007.

Under Osman's Tree: The Ottoman Empire, Egypt, and Environmental History (Alan Mikhail)

The Herds Shot Round the World: Native Breeds and the British Empire, 1800-1900 (Rebecca J.H. Woods, 2017)

Imperial Bodies in London: Empire, Mobility, and the Making of British Medicine, 1880-1914 (Kristen Hussey, 2021)

Red Coats and Wild Birds: How Military Ornithologists and Migrant Birds Shaped Empire (Kirsten Greer, 2020)

Animality and Colonial Subjecthood in Africa: The Human and Nonhuman Creatures of Nigeria (Saheed Aderinto, 2022)

Imperial Creatures: Humans and Other Animals in Colonial Singapore, 1819-1942 (Timothy P. Barnard, 2019)

Biotic Borders: Transpacific Plant and Insect Migration and the Rise of Anti-Asian Racism in America, 1890-1950 (Jeannie N. Shinozuka)

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