#dear Italians your perspective would be appreciated

[itsthechocopuff]

went out for dinner with an italian boy yesterday and said i'd pay for both of us and i swear my boy bluescreened so hard he reset back to factory settings

[apixrl]

IT'S YOU.

hanta sero x fem!reader

WARNING(S): slight angst. mostly arguing / tension but fluff towards the end.

word count: 5.3k

song: it's you // gavriel

note(s): if u stan him ur immediately just so hot and sexc and if not ur just really stinky sorry not sorry

italian translation - translator !!

The heavy pouring rain waged war against your once dry and stylish jacket. The piece of clothing now resorted to an added weight as you strode forth to reach your apartment complex. Luckily you were only a street away, your hurried walk turning into a legitimate jog when the storeyed building came into sight. It was Friday night, meaning the day you worked overtime for the sake of earning a little extra as well as filling in for a coworker. Most of the day the weather had been miserable, the sky maintaining a mundane and drilling grey cloudy sketch that slowly collected into rain. Luckily your morning walk to work hadn't been affected by the downfall but the weather had chosen to stick around for your walk home.

Your jacket glued itself to your frame as its capability to keep you dry fleetly decreased, the hoodie underneath beginning to dampen ever so faintly too. Your pants were already taken to the rain, answering its call by absorbing the water into the fabric and making them exceptionally uncomfortable to wear. The pair of shoes on your feet struggled to bind together as they countlessly stepped in puddle after puddle, wearing and tearing with every step you took.

Cars passed by, tires causing gushes of water to hit the pavement. The street lamps did nothing to show your presence as they sped by, your body growing damper from the droplets of water hitting you. You briefly scolded the inconsiderate drivers in your head, eyes glancing ahead to meet an approaching individual. They were most likely a neighbour but given the darkness surrounding you weren't entirely sure, ultimately deciding to keep your head down and not draw attention to yourself.

In truth, this wasn't the only reason.

During the last week and a half, your want to socialise was relatively low, finding a lot of your spare time spent at home and in your own company. The separation from society was healthy for your recently plagued mind, spending afternoons finding all kinds of homely leisure to pass the hours by. It felt much more wholesome and enjoyable to endeavour in a story from your bookshelf or writing poetry in your journal straight from the heart rather than sitting aimlessly on your phone. Simply scrolling through social media to bore the day away.

Why the sudden stray from society to your own little world? Well... sometimes having a popular Pro Hero as a boyfriend came with its cons. Especially when hardships came between. As of the Tuesday approaching, it would be your ten-month anniversary with your partner - Hanta. Or what he was better known as; Taping Hero: Cellophane.

Yours and his meet was rather mundane truth be told. What started as a journey to purchase a recently released volume of one of Hanta's favourite manga comics took a drastic turn and became something much more meaningful. He caught you grabbing the final copy available, smoothly swooping in to attempt to charm you into giving him the comic (the ravenette had been to about five stores before that during patrol - a rather lousy thing to do but he justified his actions with lack of spare time). However, he walked out with a date two nights later instead, finding himself be moved by your own charms and attraction that Hanta urged himself to ask and not miss the chance.

From there, things were taken slow. His social status was shared pretty quickly, faster than Hanta felt comfortable with - liking the idea of you liking him for who he was over his fame and wealth. It didn't affect your perspective of the ravenette, since you had already fallen for him before such information could be told. It took a month before you officially became boyfriend and girlfriend, and life couldn't have been better for the pair of you. For the most part, your relationship was perfectly stable and as healthy as you could make it. But unfortunately, all good things must come with a cost.

See, one thing you were to learn with growing closer to Hanta was he kept his personal life extremely separate from his heroic persona. Such a statement was made very clear before you brought your relationship to the next level since the ravenette requested that if you were to become lovers that he would want it to remain private. So he could feel he had a somewhat normal life outside of his duties as a hero. Whilst becoming a Pro was his dream and the man loved his job, Hanta was also a sucker for peace and quiet too. Having that metaphorical and literal balance in his life granted him inner peace, and as his partner, you respected that.

At least at first, since you didn't think you would reach ten months together and still be hiding behind sunglasses whenever the pair of you wanted to see a movie.

You couldn't lie, it was endearingly sweet Hanta felt that way, partly anyway. The fact he cherished your love and relationship so close to his heart that it was only shared between you two. But your irrationality couldn't help but make you wonder how in a concerning way, Hanta's desire to keep you from his greatest achievement in life (becoming a top ten pro) almost felt like he was hiding you... like he didn't want you a part of it. And once that thought struck you as the ravenette rested peacefully beside you one night, it didn't shy away anytime soon. Given the fact you had spoken briefly about making yourselves public in the past with little to no issue, you didn't think you would cause harm by bringing it up again. But it seemed your choice of when to bring it up was poor, as it most certainly did not run smoothly between you.

Something about his day had irritated Hanta, and so you pinning such focus on the subject seemed to pass him over his limit. There were a few snaps here and there, which you didn't necessarily appreciate, and Hanta's lack of enthusiasm and care for your request made you all the more upset. So weighted emotions matched with the evident disagreement surely lead to Hanta storming out of your apartment with such a slam to the door you wouldn't have expressed shock if your neighbour's stepped out in the hall to see the chaos ensuing.

That was nine days ago, and so far neither of you had seen nor spoken to the other. You'd made attempts to contact him since then, attempts you knew before you tried would come out unsuccessful. But from observation, Hanta was surprisingly a complete mess when it came to emotions based on negativity. Whenever the ravenette grew angry or agitated he became a closed book, so hard for you to read that the only thing you learned that worked was to give him space. To let him get through his upset alone since he never seemed to allow for outer help and comfort to assist. Which you despised because you wanted to help him through his troubles. To be there as the big spoon or to be the shoulder to cry on. But stupid male pride got in the way, Hanta building a wall so high and thick between him, his emotions and you that truth be told you had no idea how to push through.

So you resorted to letting him get over it in his own time, knowing deep down he would come around eventually. It wasn't the first quarrel you'd had and hopefully not the worst, and you knew this was Hanta's way of dealing with it. Whilst you had been willing to wait it out, you placed that thought in your head thinking it to be only two or three days before Hanta made some sort of effort.

But it was nine. And that was beginning to concern you greatly.

You finally reached the stairs leading up to your apartment building, the relief flowing through your system so freeing and wonderous. All that was left was to type in the passcode by the main doors and you would be merrily under shelter, able to kick off your trainers and slip into some comfy sweats. Perhaps even make yourself a warm cup of cocoa and watch an episode of a show you needed to catch up on before the sweet release of sleep. Or so you thought it was going to go.

Twenty minutes later and your thumb grazed lightly over your phone's home screen, imaginatively stroking the black hair of a certain boy you loved dear as he smiled cross-eyed back at you. The photo was taken when Hanta took you ice skating in the countryside during the winter which previously passed. He discovered a secluded location hiding a spacious lake that had been glazed with thick, sturdy ice. After numerous times of losing your balance, Hanta deemed it amusing to take a photo with you as you sat on your backside in defeat. And whilst it did humiliate you, you adored Hanta's goofy looking face in the photo. Hence why it was your background.

You'd found yourself staring at the photo the night prior too, contemplating whether to try to call again or not. What if something was wrong? What if Hanta was injured and somewhere under repair at one of the numerous hospitals in the city? God... what if the doofus finally slung himself across the city as crazily as that Western hero he never shut up about and fell to his death? And your setback from social media was the reason you hadn't found out yet? See! This was a reason why you wanted to go public! At least in an emergency, somebody would know who to contact!

Your brows crinkled at that final thought, what began as concern moving back a step to annoyance and you settled on tossing your phone behind you on your bed in defeat. Proceeding to stand upright, you tugged the oversized hoodie (Hanta's hoodie not to mention) on your person and wandered through the rooms of your apartment to your kitchen. Where the bubbling of your kettle boiling water filtered your ears. The low hum calmed you as you leaned against the counter in thought, arms crossed over your chest and your eyes focused deeply beyond the wooden flooring.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The noise went unheard at first, so occupied in your head you mistook the sound for the kettle boiling. But when the triple trill sounded again, it dawned on you that that was most certainly not how a kettle was supposed to sound. Snapping out of your focus, your head lifted to the kettle before it scanned the room around you. Nothing seemed different at all, and nothing inside your apartment had a reason to make such a sound.

Unless you had rats... then maybe that would make sense.

Please don't be rats.

Having no initial success, you blankly went back to your thoughtful state - the kettle finally boiling. Permitting you to fill the lavender painted mug that waited impatiently on the side, four heaped teaspoons of cocoa powder begging for hydration inside. Now actually having something to do you hoisted yourself off of the counter, stepping to the one opposite to do the task at hand. But then just as you were going to pour the heated water...

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap!

This time it was more rushed and heightened, holding a lack of patience to a certain extent. It was there you finally trailed your eyes left, right and centre, your E/C irises landing on the french doors past your sofa which lead to your balcony. Doing as much as possible to downplay your panic by putting on a brave face, you manoeuvred from your perch in the kitchen and headed for the doors to glance outside. Thankfully the light on the balcony was switched on, giving you a glimpse of silhouettes to the arrangement of the outdoor area. At first, nothing seemed different at all. Just the usual setting your balcony always had. A few potted plants and a small sakura blossom which you'd been growing from the seed, as well as a glass table and four chairs. Not to mention the closed up umbrella and pole reaching for the stars above too. But looking over your observations, something went amiss. Since when did you have five chairs?

Squinting your eyes in a struggle to focus better, they were only set to widen as it hit you what you could see. There, perched on your balcony in a squatting position was a person... balancing perfectly on the thin pole as their head leaned forwards to occasionally peer inside the glass doors. It took a second or two for you to figure out what was going on. But the moment you recalled the fact you had a boyfriend with the ability to swing from rooftop to rooftop, your heart both plummeted to your feet and leapt to the heavens above simultaneously.

After realising what was happening, you moved to the lock of the glass doors and grabbed hold. That movement seemed to indicate shifting on the exterior because the person on the other side stood upright and casually stepped off the railing as though it were a stair. You swallowed thickly, clamping down on the inside of your cheek in worry that you could not see his face. Unfortunate for your nerves since at least then you could gain some form of presumption to what his expression read. So walking in blind, you unlocked the door and jiggled it open, the glass door sliding to the side easily. Quickly did the silent walls of your apartment be filled to the brim with the heavy downpour of rain and distant car horns in the distance. As well as the overhanging state of tension in the air as your eyes trailed up the slender frame of your visitor and meeting the ebony eyes you'd been missing for far too long now.

"What... what are you doing here?" You uttered out after a long twenty seconds passed. Upon opening the door no words were said, only the longing gaze of two conflicted lovers. Hanta stood before you with a discouraged expression, lips tightly pursed together with no catchphrase toothy grin to show. He was donning his hero costume, though his helmet appeared to be missing for reasons you didn't know why. But it didn't help Hanta one bit since his black locks were laced with the heavy downpour from above. You imagined his hero costume was drenched as well, damp spandex sounding all too discomforting in your head as you used it as a focus to ease the nerves you felt to the sudden visit.

"Hey," Hanta finally said after what felt like a millennium. What were his usual cheerful tones came out low and unsure, like the ravenette hadn't come prepared and was relying on other factors to push himself forward. With sunken brows and a clear of his throat, Hanta continued as he lifted his eyes to meet yours. "Can I come in?"

"Oh... right, sure," You stated blankly and stepped back for him to do so. At first, you wanted to ask him why he decided to come to your balcony of all things, but the look in his eyes had convinced you to wait for that chance. There was just something about those gorgeous orbs of ebony you couldn't say no to - conflict or not. Luckily your apartment flooring was hard, meaning any water from Hanta's shoes (or soles as his costume didn't use shoes) could be mopped up and dealt with later. Not that you were thinking about that at all. Your mind was too focused on processing what was going on.

"I was in the neighbourhood and you know that my tape is crap in rain so... I didn't know where else to crash," Hanta started once inside your apartment. He nervously laughed as though to ease inner feelings, hands meeting his hips in a lost attempt to make conversation. It was mainly due to the fact you hadn't properly greeted him, sort of dawdling between him and the sofa. You looked Hanta up and down and sighed, seeing how soaked he was.

"Here... slip this on," You lifted your hands over your head to tug the hoodie off, holding it out for Hanta to take. It was his anyway, and it would be a lie to say you weren't wearing it for his scent. Underneath the hoodie, you donned a simple black tank top you tended to wear during your morning jogs or times of exercise. The ravenette took it reluctantly, initiating you to head for your bedroom. "I'll go grab you some pants too. And a towel for your hair,"

"Oh... okay then," Hanta was genuinely astonished by the hospitality, watching you disappear down the hall. As you grabbed the aforementioned items, he began to remove the top half of his hero costume. It was true that Hanta loved his hero costume very much but when it came to the rain he wanted nothing more than to change the design completely. The spandex soaked up the rain and it took hours to drip out, not only dampening him but also multiplying its weight much more than double its usual. With his tape dispenser shoulder pads placed on the floor, Hanta stripped himself of his top half. Sighing when he discovered the rain had seeped through and dampened his skin. Luckily you entered the room shortly after, carrying some grey sweats of Hanta's and a freshly cleaned towel.

"So... is there any other reason you decided to scare the crap out of me on my balcony?" You questioned flatly, a hand on your hip as you held the towel out for Hanta, placing the sweats on the sofa cushion next to him. He mumbled a quick thanks, promptly starting to dry his upper half.

"Well yeah," The ravenette stopped momentarily to glance your way, ebony eyes finding you back at the countertop in the kitchen where you resumed the task of making cocoa. Hanta quickly expressed a sigh. "W-We gotta talk,"

"About?" You asked innocently, though you were fully aware of what was being implied. Chewing the inside of your cheek as you did your best not to make eye contact, Hanta furrowed his brows at you.

"I think you know,"

"Well, are we starting afresh or picking up where we left off? The moment you decided to storm out of here and slam the door shut?" You spoke in a passive-aggressive manner because truth be told, you didn't appreciate Hanta's way of handling your last discussion at all. So you were certainly planning on letting him know. Speaking of which, Hanta was now scrubbing his raven locks dry as his eyes closed in response. Almost like he expected you to react in such a manner. Though he refrained from biting back, knowing that would only make it worse. Not his aim for visiting.

"Starting afresh,"

"Okay then," Was all you said, stirring your spoon and tapping it quite obnoxiously on the side of the mug before dropping it into the kitchen sink. Then you moved to the fridge to grab yourself some squirty cream. The can practically empty, it reminded you how badly you needed to go grocery shopping the next day. As for a reply, from across the room, you could only see the essence of hesitance. Either from Hanta figuring where to go from that or ultimate regret for even coming. Your bets were on both.

"Look Y/N -," The ravenette began, relatively quick to dry the rest of himself off and to put on the remaining clothes. Just as he was prepared to skirt over to your side, his actions ceased upon seeing you setting yourself down on the armchair opposite. Hanta had a moment where he didn't move, unsure what to do before he resorted to sitting down on the sofa. Feeling it the only safe thing to do. "I don't want problems between us. It's the last thing I want, okay?"

"I um... okay," You said, fingertips tapping lightly against the ceramic mug filled to the brim with whipped cream and cocoa. Hanta met your gaze for a split second, hands proceeding to fiddle with the other much more prominently.

"But... I want you to know that I've been thinking about it and well... I guess if it'll make you happy, I'm willing to do it and go public," Hanta spoke through a sigh. Peculiar, because a week ago you would have probably broken into a bright smile and jumped straight into the ravenette's arms then and there. Yet, you remained in your seat and mouthed a small oh of... disappointment was it? Whilst you weren't certain what it was, it most definitely felt like that. Which was odd because the words Hanta had just uttered were the ones you had been waiting to hear for months now.

Funnily enough, it didn't take you long to figure out why. Because throughout the previous week and the lack of contact, that's exactly what had been the route of the problem. The way Hanta treated you during your last interaction and the lack of communication mixed with it. It wasn't the original issue anymore. Of course, you still wanted that. But you additionally craved a sense of closure for how you were treated.

"Hanta I...," Hanta's brows crinkled together in a frown, not shy to display his confusion to your hesitant tones.

"What? What is it? T-That's what you want right?" He replied.

"Yes, it's what I want. But that's not the issue anymore,"

"What do you mean? I'm not following...," His response made you scoff. Not exactly great for the situation at hand. You remained silent for a little bit longer, scratching the side of your head as you sat upright to elaborate.

"Hanta... you haven't texted or called me in over a week. You walked out of here after a fight and practically went radio silent!" Was your protest, watching as Hanta fell back against the sofa. Unbeknownst to you, there was another reason he did this. An inner conflict he had yet to unveil. A prolonged silence ensued as if Hanta was trying to find the correct words to say.

"Because I needed space Y/N... time to think!"

"Yeah well we both did... but even calling just to say that would have been reassuring," You weren't finished despite trailing off, Hanta seeming to notice by the way your lips were faintly parted. "I know you have a busy schedule but... but...," The thought entered your mind for a split moment, doing much more damage than intended.

"But what?"

"It doesn't matter. I-it's stupid," You tried to brush it off, suppressing the thought further down into your system so it wouldn't win you over. Hanta didn't seem to like that though, his head tilting your way with his eyes boring into your own. He could tell when something was bothering you, just from your body language.

"No. Tell me,"

"You're not losing interest in me, are you?" It sounded ridiculous the moment you uttered the words, and it sounded even more ridiculous as Hanta's hands met the bridge of his nose in a heavy sigh. Quickly causing you to further your point. "I-I just thought that you not wanting to go public and being 'busy' was a nice way of saying -,"

"Don't even finish that sentence,"

"Sorry," The silence lingering between you both drowned out your voice, to which you looked down at your hands with a sigh. The ravenette sat upright rather abruptly, shifting onto his feet and coursing a hand through his hair. There was a clashing frown on his face as he reflected on the words he just heard.

"I can't believe you would even think that... that I'm growing tired of you!" Hanta called out in disbelief, near offended by the accusation. His body twisted to face you, eyeing you down for some sort of explanation or justification to what you said.

"It's hard not to when you're giving off all these... these signs!" That was your best response. Though you were set to be cut off by another sharp sigh from Hanta. One of many expressed that rainy night. You watched as he walked on over to the glass doors he entered moments earlier, observing the rain slashing harshly against the clear surface. It had grown even heavier since his entry, the back of his mind relieved to be out of the dangerous weather and inside closed doors. He didn't ponder on it long though, returning to the situation at hand and leaving the indistinct 'pitter-patter' of the rain behind him.

"Y/N have you ever thought for a single moment why I've kept you secret for so long?"

"You said you liked your private life to be away from your hero one... a-and I get that!" You replied urgently. "I'm okay with all the publicity and the social media responses and -," As though he expected that answer, Hanta interrupted you with a near saddened laugh. It caused you to frown and glare his way, about to raise your voice if not for his own voice filling the apartment.

"You know my job isn't just walking around being a celebrity, right?" Hanta glanced back at you. "I'm a hero for crying out loud! I protect people from danger! People like you!" The ravenette pressed a closed fist against the glass pane of the door, forehead inches away from the surface since Hanta shifted most of his weight onto it. You tilted your head, frowning.

"I know that but -,"

"But do you?" Hanta's tone came off harsher than intended to emphasise his point. But he was quick to abandon it, clicking his tongue in defeat to a battle in his head when he realised he had to explain his case. He'd been reluctant to say anything about his activities in the last week since technically not even the press knew, but lying wasn't going to get Hanta and you anywhere. So he surrendered to the urge and spoke. "Listen, the reason I didn't message you this week is that I've been working non-stop over some drug trades going on. One's that have been going on for a while underground and ones that have gotten good people killed. I haven't had the time to focus on us even though our fight has been in my head all week and I've been shitting myself over talking about it because I don't want to lose you! I couldn't imagine life without you, Y/N and I feel like an ass for treating you how I did last time we spoke! But I haven't been able to tell you that because access to my phone has been slim, and I couldn't-,"

"Hanta?" You stood up gingerly, only speaking up due to the change of Hanta's aura. He had started curt and sharp but slowly tumbled into a more emotional demeanour. The more personal his small speech grew the more it started to affect him, probably the impact of his own thoughts taking their toll. There was even a voice crack at some point, one you'd never heard before. Hanta took a deep breath, bracing himself to speak again.

"It sounds like a lame excuse but it's the truth. I didn't want to say it. But I can't lie to you," He continued. "It's cases like this that have kept me from wanting to go public. B-Because if those people were to figure out who you are because of me...," There was a stifled shake of a breath, Hanta's voice quietening in fear just at the thought. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself,"

You were speechless. So speechless you weren't even mad anymore. He was finally... finally being vulnerable with you and that seemed to be enough for you to erase all your grudges. Sure, work wasn't an excuse for everything. But in a circumstance like this one - with the job that Hanta lead, you could understand his reasons and in spite of your worry you knew the rules. No mobiles on operations. And finally, he was confiding to you about why he struggled with the thought of announcing your relationship. So in a very reluctant manoeuvre, you plucked up the courage to walk up behind him and wrap your arms around Hanta in a sorrowful hug. Hanta tensed up at first, breath running short, but he didn't push you away. A hopeful sign.

"I'm sorry for making it such a big deal when you had other things to think about," You said, pressing your lips to the back of his shoulder blade and giving the surface a peck. You remained there for a good few, adamant seconds before retracting. "And I'm sorry for never looking at it that way... or considering your feelings on the matter,"

"Y/n it's fine... just...," Hanta seized the opportunity to turn around to face you, running a hand through his ebony locks with one hand as his other slithered around you to return the hug. "I'm sorry I made you doubt me... I feel like shit about it and it wasn't my intention at all,"

"No! No! Don't apologise. It's okay, " You brought a hand to fiddle with the string of his hoodie. As much as it wasn't what you wanted, you had to see Hanta's perspective and understand his feelings too. This was a two-person relationship after all and had you known his feelings ran that deep, you wouldn't have pressed the matter as much as you had. "Look, we don't have to announce anything to anyone okay? If it makes you comfortable and happy then I'm willing to remain a mystery a little longer,"

That returned some colour to his face, almost like Hanta feared you would oppose him even still and the situation would grow for the worse. With a small sigh of relief, he finally allowed a smile to press to his lips. A smile you knew all too well and had missed for a while now.

"Thank you for understanding," Hanta exhaled, pausing as his eyes hovered onto you with an ounce of playful intent. "And I guess we could be a little bit less discreet when we go to the cinema together," You smiled faintly, finally satisfied with the decision you had come up with. Better yet, a compromise. The very thing you had wanted to start with... clearly your concluding thoughts had been premature.

"Thank you... it means a lot,"

"Yeah... I love you," Hanta spoke gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I love you too," You stood on your tiptoes to lightly peck his lips, Hanta humming softly in approval as he returned the gesture. After a few seconds, you pulled back though, feeling a smile on your face as you did. It was enjoyable to kiss his lips again, another thing you had missed greatly in your week-long deprivation of your boyfriend.

"So, how does some hot cocoa sound? I can imagine you were sat on the balcony for a pretty long time," You pulled away from the hug, but kept hold of Hanta's wrist as you tugged him along with you. Hanta shook a fist in grateful triumph, sighing out in bliss at the offer.

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask! Hot cocoa sounds amazing," He smiled, pausing temporarily before adding on. "But are cuddles on the table too?" You glanced back at him, half expecting the request. But there was no way you were going to say no. You shook your head in amusement before answering.

"I think we're both in desperate need of cuddles, so I think so. Yes,"

"Amen to that,"

[nightswithkookmin]

Dear new friend,

I just finished reading your messages. First of all, thank you. I think I would have been less traumatized out here if a lot of people took to sharing their thoughts on matters such as these in the manner in which you do.

I think I set myself up too because I be wanting to participate in certain topics and discussions and so often I find myself trying to sieve through the vitriol and pejoratives.

The gender of the word is feminine not masculine. I don’t see how that is misinformation.

"Sorry, the misinformation bit was because I was thinking about that tweet that went viral about this word being used only for woman. The person said it was an adjective, and you said it was an adjective, so I thought you were basing this information on that tweet. That day was crazy, some people spread this, wanted to change his pronouns, trend a hashtag and were saying he had came out... This was too much. And the "debunked" thing was about this tweet, as well. Not about the words being feminine and masculine. That's a fact, you're right."

I had no idea a tweet went viral like that claiming he wanted to change his pronouns. That's wild and I disagree. Lol. I think I've always maintained he uses He/him pronouns and said time and again I do not think he wants to be emasculated at all. As I said, that would have made him transgender not bigender and thus defeat the purpose. To be bigender he has to be two genders at the same time not one.

But I have been following the discussions on this topic on the bird app and I try my best to bring nuance to certain discussions. I try. Lol.

I take note of the differences between your language and Latin as you rightly pointed out. But I also do see the similarities and I think the explanation you gave and the examples you provided gives me a better understanding of the language structure.

"Yeah, totally fine hahah We tend to interpret things according to our own experiences; for me, a gendered word is part of my daily life, normal, and I don't bat an eye about it. Is just a word, the importance is in its meaning ─ and it suits filter SOOO well. For you, it's something more. At the end of the day, art is here to be interpreted, and if Jimin doesn't explicitly explain the filter performance, tattoos, set, outfits... It's open for interpretation. (And I'm not a person that tries to find hidden meanings. I simply enjoy what I enjoy. I have this thing about being as accurate as possible, so I try to stick to facts (like: I don't feel comfortable saying he chose these words, because I don't know if HE was the person that chose it (in the sense that he was the one that bring it up to the staff/company). Maybe someone else showed it to him and he was like: "Nice! I want it!". But I feel okay saying he's had a tattoo with these words (A fact). Also I don't make a big deal of most things ─ for me Jimin is Jimin and I'm supporting him regardless, he's precious)

(But Memories 2020 is coming and I'm almost sure they are going to show filter behind the scenes!!!! So we're going to understand better this masterpiece (I HOPE SO))

I understand what you mean. Some people are inclined towards taking the literal meaning of texts or in this case art and not read much into situations beyond what is presented at face value- not me🤣🤣🤣🤣

I do the magnifying glass and errthang👁

I think humans are complex and there's always a possibility of a psychological and or pathological stimulus underscoring their behaviors, choices and actions in most cases.

But that aside, I think it's easier to take a heteronormative view on things sometimes because cis straight has always been the norm even in appreciating art- but truth is, coding and co opting codified expressions is almost always part of queer culture and behavior too. If any other queer celebrity had used that expression, I would be reading much into it too beyond its semantics.

For me it's simple, would I be reading too too much into the language and art choice of someone I thought was cis straight? Hell No. Straight is boring and blunt as fuck.

Unless of course they were being intentionally witty or secretive about something, I'd assume and expect their expressions to be pretty much straight forward- generally. I went home to be would mean just that.

If I sensed the author were queer coding Home would mean something else entirely to be. Home becomes a symbol not a word. And if he chose to write that in Latin and not the language they spoke naturally, I'd assume there's something about that language that he likes and perhaps uses to code a queer message.

For closeted queer people who live in a world where they are constantly coerced to take on a duality and have an expressional alter egos- two identical identities with one being the facade and pretense through which they openly and largely perform normalcy of self, the other being their real self which they tuck away because it is inconsistent with the acceptable norms- I'd a take a very different approach to their art. But that's me.

If a straight person said they needed escape, it would mean something totally different to me than say if a queer person said they needed escape. Because those two are escaping two very different things.

For example, the words Moon and moonlight used by a straight person means nothing to me- perhaps because I just don't care much to look for its deeper meaning beyond the literal meaning of the words as presented. If it appears in a queer person's parlance, even if in passing, I assume immediately they are referencing something much more deeper, meaningful and coded.

Queer coding is a thing you know? And it's born out of necessity not choice sometimes.

Take for instance BTS's proclivity to 'queer codify' their music. Moon and moonlight has become symbolic of the inner struggles of a queer person amongst black 'educated' queer men and women. It's come to symbolize cultural norms and expectations and how those affect queer people- perhaps of all race.

In the Movie Moonlight, which has become the epitome of queer black struggles and desires for liberation, this motif was used to represent the struggles of a black boy dealing with the pressures of a hyper masculine society.

When RM references this in 4 Oclock, 'the whole world is blue under the moonlight' is he queer coding or just appropraiting queer parlance as buzz word? That expression takes on a whole new meaning were he queer. Blue symbolizes queerness- a theory popularized of course by the Film. When V who once wrote an allegedly 'queer coded song' Stigma says he is blue- what does he mean now? On the surface blue means blue. Would you take a straightforward view on this or assume its symbolic? And what is it symbolic of?? Sadness?? Gayness?

If RM had an accompanying tattoo as compliment to the song in his performance that evoked similar sentiments or hinted at a possible second meaning I wouldn't assume that that tattoo meant nothing or that it didn't have a deeper meaning behind it.

It's just as how Lil Nas X posted a city of rainbows and people said 'rainbows are rainbows. Y'all shouldn't read much into it.' But for queer people that was pretty much a declaration of his sexuality.

Later he had to post again and reiterate that that rainbow post was his coming out moment. 'I thought I made it obvious.'

Somethings are pretty much obvious.

For JM who don't speak Latin- unless he is secretly fluent in which case my bad- I don't think he cares so much about the grammar of the language beyond it's meaning. And perhaps gender? Grammatical gender I mean. That's just because the first thing you learn about Latin is that all the nouns are gendered?

I won't lie. When I first learned that I was supper fascinated about grammatical gender and why speakers of the language felt a need to gender every word of the language.

In the end, we all don't know. I'm out here convinced two Asian men are so gay they can't straight to save their asses. I have a tendency to view everything they do through queer lens. If they are not gay I'm pretty much gaslighting them you know?

I'm always fascinated by different point of views on a myriad of subjects. Just as you said, our diverse experiences inform our experiences and perspectives. I just hope people acknowledge how their straightness informs their understanding of queerness too and how that has a tendency to be invalidating and dismissive of queer issues and experiences.

But to me it's like, if Jikook are gay why do you have to interpret what they do through straight lens?

Personally, I wouldn't interpret straight through queer lens and force that view on to straight people. That would be homonormative? Assuming rainbow means straight people are gay when they are not, moon means feminine to straight men, that the use of the word God makes one a Christian- that's just silly and bizarre.

I use Namaste often and suddenly some people here think I'm Indian. I wish. They have one hell of a culture.

When I was reading through your messages, all that kept playing in my head was- that's a very 'straight' view on the matter. Lol. Please tell me you got the pun. Lol.

I think my opinion will remain the same on the matter if you placed any queer person in Jimin's stead. Any queer person that I believed was queer and had hinted a few times at exploring a dual identity or going through that phase at least.

I think I'd enjoy your blog if you had one.

I love love the lesson on Italian or is it Spanish?

Also, I would love your take on V and Stigma. A lot of queer stans have a queer reading of the lyrics- I see the appeal however I don't have a queer reading of it at all. Thoughts??

Namaste.

Signed,

GOLDY

[cockasinthebird]

I could NOT resist your prompt meme and I could equally NOT resist asking for 69 😎 (Doing this on anon because I still haven’t worked out side blogging, but I’m cherrydreamer)

@cherrydreamer Don’t worry, this is my sideblog as well, and it is just not a function yet to send asks from them!

69. “I’ve never done this before.”

And while I have, I’ve never written it before, so this is exciting!!! I sat down when I came home today, and wrote it all out in one sitting, 1.6k words only, but I knew from the moment I even got this ask exactly what I wanted to do, and I am very happy with the result! Just straight to the point!

Thank you so much for sending one in!!! Before I let you all read this juicy fic, I wanna say that I’ve gotten 5 69 requests, yes, 5, and several friends have admitted they were so close to saying 69 or 420, and I think it is hilarious, I love each and every one of you all so much for this!! 😂😂🤣 AND I’m gonna do them all!!! all 5 69s; I already know what the next two are gonna be!!

Now, with my rambling done, please, enjoy~

-

“I’ve never done this before,” Steve says, honest, and his words don't surprise Billy.

“Yeah you don’t strike me as the type,” his response spoken through a crooked smirk, eyes adoring as he takes in the perfect nudity of his blushing boyfriend.

And Steve’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “Don’t be rude! I’m doing this for you!”

Billy chuckles and leans in to kiss those smiling lips. “No, we’re doing this for us, for fun.” His hand lingers against Steve’s neck; rubbing soothing circles just beneath his jaw.

“You done it before?” Steve’s dark and lustrous eyes fall down to where Billy’s thick chub rests against his thigh, just past the border of where his tan-line cuts off.

“Sure, a few times but only with girls, usually with her on top so I don’t, you know…” He caresses Steve’s cheek and grins something so self-satisfied. “Choke her to death.”

Steve can’t help the chortle that escapes, and he leans forward to press their foreheads together. He’s all flushed and nervous and weirdly embarrassed to try something new, but also excited.

“So how do we do it?”

“Well, as much as I’d love to fuck the shit out of your pretty little mouth,” Billy drawls rough and erotic, his thumb pulling at Steve’s lower lip, “I’m thinking the safest position is for us both to be on our sides, that way we’re both in equal control and responsible for our own breathing.”

Again Steve lets out a little jittery noise, close to a chuckle, as he kisses Billy’s palm. “Okay.”

“And you just say stop if you don’t like it or if it’s too much or for any reason really, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers and leans in to kiss the other, smiling and blushing and just- “God, I feel like a virgin again!”

Billy grabs him firmly with both hands to his cheeks, kisses him over and over and over in an attempt to alleviate some of the timid nerves. “You’ll do fine, don’t worry! Now, lie down on your side.”

So Steve does as is asked, lays down on his side, head near where the pillow would have been if Billy didn’t insist they needed the full bed clear of everything that could “get in the way.”

“Mmmmh,” Billy hums in appreciation and runs his hand down along Steve’s side till he reaches a thigh and squeezes it softly. “Comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I’ll get,” Steve replies with a little, happy smile.

“Good.” And there’s a glint of something so devious in Billy’s eyes, lids heavy and pupils blown as he stares down.

Then he gets on his side, mirroring Steve’s pose but with his head in the opposite end, eyeing up that long cock that lies at half mast, having gone a bit soft from nerves, but Billy doesn’t take it personal. He looks down - or up, depending on whose perspective is to be taken into consideration - and catches Steve looking back.

“Enjoying the view?” Billy asks and cracks a wide and humored grin.

Steve visibly swallows, and nods. “Y-yeah, very.”

The trust placed in him is terribly heart warming, and just goes to show how much Steve really loves Billy. And Billy can’t help but love him back.

“Now lift up your head and I’ll just slip my leg underneath so you can rest on my thigh if need be, yeah?” Billy’s calm as he guides Steve on this exploratory journey, rock hard but patient, and Steve does exactly as instructed. “Perfect.”

“Any… any final advice?” Steve’s tone is hesitant but intrigued.

To those words, Billy licks his lips, making them good and wet, smirking like a devil down between Steve’s thighs. “Don’t be shy.” And he wolfs down Steve’s dick in one go, sucking him in as deep as he can go before gagging.

“Fuck, ah!” Steve gasps loudly and tenses up in an attempt to fight the urge to buck his hips for more.

Billy works him over good and ravenously, a hand around the bottom of the shaft where his lips can’t quite reach, tongue rolling against the head whenever, moaning and rumbling around Steve’s cock as it’s quick to grow fully hard with such masterful persuasion. It curves so wonderfully along his tongue and toward his throat.

“Oh God, shit-”

From the lack of attention, Billy moves his own hips, moans out something that could resemble actual words as he inches himself closer to Steve’s head.

There is instant relief in surface tension as slender fingers wrap around his aching erection and starts moving at an all too erratic pace, but it’s working for him, especially when Steve then closes his lips around the head and licks across the slit, swirls around the hot flesh, sucking on just the tip for now, but with such enthusiasm it makes Billy’s cock kick and leak near immediately.

Steve gives good fucking head for a guy who’s mostly only been with girls, but there’s always such a ferocity to it, like he loves the feeling of Billy’s girthy cock in his mouth, on his tongue, tickling the back of his throat as he swallows all of him.

He would survive, Billy thinks, if he had decided to be on top of this, fucking with abandon into this incredible wet heat while sucking off Steve’s own lengthy dick. Steve could probably take it, would probably just let him thrust with wild abandon. And the imagery of it is enough to make him go insane.

“God, Stevie,” he pops off to groan out, breathing hard and ragged as he gazes down, hand still fisting fervently. “Feels so fucking good, pretty boy, you’re doing so so good for me, arrh-”

And Steve moans eagerly, goes deeper till there’s no more flesh and his nose is pressed against Billy’s balls.

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” Billy pants and hisses.

Before going back to taste the pre that drips from Steve’s hard cock, Billy shoves three fingers into his mouth, gathering spit and licking around each digit, getting them as soaking wet as possible, then brings them over Steve’s hip, between his cheeks and teases at his hole, getting the rim nice and slippery, but not yet penetrating; waits for the go ahead.

Steve pulls off to meet Billy’s gaze, his own expression that of unadulterated euphoria. “Please, please, yes.”

It takes no more than that to make Billy drive in his middle finger all the way past the second knuckle, earning himself a loud and wonderful, “Ah!”

As he pumps the finger in and out, he bobs his head in tact, keeping a fast and confident rhythm, knowing from the way Steve loses all control of his voice that he’s doing absolutely magnificent, and the elated sounds coming from his boyfriend could easily bring him over the edge.

“Oh fuck, ahh, Billy, yes! M-more-” Steve mewls and calls out, having completely abandoned the task of sucking Billy clean, but more than makes up for it with a slick and excited handjob.

He needs air, and it is his first time doing something like this, he’ll learn, with practice, Billy’s not upset or disappointed.

By the keen request, he pushes in a second finger, keeps the same pace and recognizes easily from the way that Steve’s rambling and moaning out curses that he’s close, Billy’s close, too. Steve’s muscles contracting around his thick fingers, the hand around his cock jerking and flicking like his life depends on it, all he really needs, really wants now is for Steve to cum all over his tongue, fill up his mouth, make him choke and swallow on his semen.

So he sucks with more passion, forces his way further down till he feels the head go deeper into his throat, hollows his cheeks, curls his tongue around the shaft the best he can, and at that Steve comes undone, crying out till there’s no more air in his lung, cumming hard and thick down Billy’s throat, who takes great pleasure in swallowing every single drop.

His own tumble over the edge is incredible, so utterly fulfilling, as he cums into Steve’s swift hand, the heat of his orgasm blooming in his cock and sending warm ripples up his abs, down his thighs, toes curling as he pulls off of Steve’s wasted prick to breathe and groan, his entire being tensing up perfectly as Steve works him through it with a firm yet tender hand.

They both roll onto their backs, panting and heaving, exhausted and destroyed, just reveling in the afterglow and glorious bliss, waiting for their senses to return.

Billy’s the first to move as he sits up to look at Steve. White streaks have been painted across his chest, a bit on his chin, and like in the presence of a masterpiece that hang at the Louvre, Billy admires his work. He reaches down to swipe away sweaty locks from Steve’s forehead, and hadn’t realized just how sweaty his own neck got till just now.

“That was…” Steve huffs, somewhere between serene and disbelief. “Wow, I dunno… Fun?”

And Billy can’t help but chuckle at that. “Yeah,” he says with a nod, “Fun.”

He brings his hand down to Steve’s chest and draws with his own semen, connecting the moles in an incomprehensible pattern. 

“Perfetto!” he erupts, showing off what little Italian he has picked up from his dear boyfriend.

Steve leans up on his elbows and looks down at the mess, then laughs joyfully, before saying with a perfect accent, “Molto bene!” And he pulls Billy down into a loving and adoring kiss.

[theagentnerd]

writing tag game

Thanks for the tag @adaliak!

how many works do you have on AO3?

27 fics

1 artwork

what’s your total A03 word count?

152291

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Five Times Peter Said "Sorry" to Tony Stark - ...and the one time he didn't have to.

Without Deeds - Peter survives a vicious kidnapping after having a huge argument with Tony. Now, more than ever, Tony knows he has to be there for him. They have a lot to work out, but Tony isn't walking away so easily this time. He vowed to never abandon the kid again, and he's going to keep that vow even if it kills him (or at the very least, makes him go grey). Sequel to "Five Times Peter Said Sorry to Tony Stark".

Never Letting Go - After two months of silence from the Parker family, May frantically calls Tony Stark with the news that Peter is missing. At first, he's angry. Then afraid. Then guilty. But he'll tear the whole world apart if that's what it takes to find the kid. ---The Butcher, from Tony's point of view. Companion piece to "Five Times Peter Said "Sorry" to Tony Stark"

Under His Wing - “Iowa? No way!” Peter protested. "I can’t go to Iowa!” Tony waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, “Sure you can. It’ll be great. Just like all those Lifetime movies where the city girl goes to the country, makes new friends, learns life lessons…" --Peter needs to take a break. Clint Barton has a farm. They may have more to offer each other than they realize.

Loved - When the Dursleys find out Harry is in love with a boy, he thinks he has nowhere to go. He couldn't be more wrong.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do! Though I'm not as consistent with it as I'd like. It always means so much to me that someone would take time out of their day to leave a comment on my writing, so I want to express my appreciation!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

My fics usually don't have sad endings, but I write a lot of h/c, so they can be a bit bittersweet. Probably Huzzah! where the Avengers visit a Ren Faire. It ends with them rushing to leave after Clint vomits on someone's lap, but they have a great time up until then!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably Just a Pinch (and It's Over). An Umbrella Academy fic, it ends with the canonical event of Diego deactivating his mom and running away, but with more feels.

Do you write crossovers?

My first fic...that I wrote 11 years ago...is a Pokemon/Maximum Ride crossover. It's very bad, I never finished it, and you won't find it on my ao3...but it's still out there...

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Of a sort. Some people really didn't like an MCU AU I was writing. I got a few bad comments, enough to really throw me, and the fic is currently on hiatus while I rewrite. Still actively rewriting it, but now I'm too scared to post until the whole thing is complete.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yeah...at least one of my fics ended up on one of those Russian websites I think? But idk, what can you do?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! A Story About Love and Loss, one of my Doctor Who fics, was translated into French, and one of my HP fics, Looney Luna Lovegood's Boggart, was translated into Italian!

Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope. Might be fun to do someday though. At one point, my sibling and I wanted to write something together, but it never happened.

What is your all time favorite ship?

I don't know if I really have one. I like some ships, but no singular one really stands out for me.

What is a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

Hmmm...I have a young orphan Clint Barton fic I've been working on on-and-off for years that I'd love to finish someday, but afraid I won't. It gives off 2012 Avengers fic vibes, it's very near and dear to my heart.

What are your writing strengths?

I can be pretty good with descriptive language when I slow down enough to actually write it. I've also been told I'm not bad at characterization, and I hope that's true.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Endings. I feel like I'm horrible at endings. Also, sometimes I get really strong concepts for a fic, but my justifications for how those concepts come about can sometimes be weak. The lead-in, if you will.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Never done it! But from a reading perspective, to me, it only makes sense if the character is bilingual in canon, and you shouldn't overdo it to the point where the reader is really, really lost without google translate.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

See above to my Pokemon/Maximum Ride crossover XD

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

It's really so hard, they're all my babies! But my default answer is probably "Five Times Peter Said "Sorry" to Tony Stark". That fic was so easy to write, and the warm response it got was unprecedented for me. I just remember being so elated every time I updated the stats page, and I'll still go back and reread it myself sometimes.

[superlinguo]

Linguistics Jobs: Interview with a Community Outreach Coordinator

I often talk about the time I spent working in community radio. Not because I worked there very long (it was only a few hours a week in my final year of undergrad), but because it was a very formative experience, it still influences the way I teach, and the importance of communicating my research to different audiences. In today’s interview, Olivia Fava also shares my enthusiasm for radio. You can follow Olivia on Twitter (@o_fava).

What did you study at university?

I attended McMaster University in Hamilton (Ontario, Canada). Fun fact: I actually started my university career in the chemistry/physics stream! I didn’t know what linguistics was in high school while I was deciding my major, but I realized pretty quickly that the sciences weren’t for me. Once I learned about linguistics, I realized it would be a perfect fit and switched over in my second year of university.

I took a broad range of courses in my first couple of years, but by my fourth year, I had concentrated the most on semantics and pragmatics. Linguistics majors at my university are also required to study at least two languages from two different language families; I studied Japanese, Italian, and American Sign Language (ASL). I also spent a semester on exchange in Japan in pursuit of my language credits, which worked out well because it was both a great experience and one that was very useful towards my degree.

I graduated this past June, but I’m currently working at my university, so I’m still continuing to take linguistics courses that I didn’t have the time or space to take while I was a full-time student. I’ll be starting a course on programming for linguists soon, which I’m very excited for.

What is your job?

I work at my university’s radio station (93.3 CFMU), and my job title is Community Outreach Coordinator. I’ve volunteered there as a radio host for about three years now, so once I graduated I applied for a job and the rest is history!

Day-to-day, I host the morning show and do interviews on local news, culture, and politics. I also plan, oversee, and write and/or edit all of our other news and arts coverage, mostly articles or videos. Communications-wise, I manage a fair bit of our external communications and all of our social media. I also help train and supervise our part-time staff and volunteers. Our staff is small, so I end up wearing a lot of hats, but I’d say most of my work falls under the umbrella of media and journalism.

In a given day, I’ll most likely go from hosting the morning show, to training volunteers, over to editing articles, and then researching ideas for new articles or documentaries (and, of course, there’s always emails to answer in-between). It’s a very fast-paced job that demands a lot of creativity and adaptability. As a campus radio station, we’ve been moving a lot more into podcasting as well since that’s very popular with my generation, so I also spend some time on audio editing. With how popular podcasting has been recently, that’s experience I’m really glad I’m getting now!

How does your linguistics training help you in your job?

It helps me immensely! Being able to pronounce names more accurately in interviews is the one that non-linguists will immediately pick up on, but linguistics training also helps me in subtler ways.

I’m especially grateful for having studied semantics and pragmatics, because picking up on the finer shades of meaning words have can really help in interviews. Listening carefully to the words my guest uses and understanding presupposition and other speech acts really helps me understand precisely what they’re trying to convey, whether they’re experienced speakers or first-time interviewees. It also helps me pick up on how they feel about a particular topic, what they might be hinting at or not saying directly, and what lines of questioning I should explore more for maximum impact. And, most importantly, it helps me do all this quickly.

That quick linguistic analysis ultimately helps me come up with good, pertinent questions to ask as I am met with new information, which is a very useful skill for doing interviews. A secondary part of my job is also training other people on how to do interviews, so I definitely appreciate having the terminology on hand to really break down how spoken communication works.

The other thing about my job is how many different people I speak to every day. Studying linguistics has really helped me quickly grasp how a person speaks, and I find that I’m able to modulate my speech to ‘match’ them when necessary. It might seem like a small thing, but it can really help people feel more comfortable.

Also, linguistics has definitely made my writing more accurate and more interesting. My understanding of semantics, syntax, and pragmatics helps make my writing accurate, well-structured, and interesting. With regards to speaking on-air, I find it also helps me understand how to properly use verbal cues like emphasis. I write my own scripts for radio, a medium without visuals where you need to keep your audience engaged with just your writing and your speaking voice, so linguistics has been very useful for that.

Do you have any advice do you wish someone had given to you about linguistics/careers/university?

I mostly just wish I had known about linguistics in high school. The dilemma for me was that I didn’t feel like I quite fit in with either sciences or the humanities. I was more oriented towards languages and literature, but the analytical framework the sciences appealed to me greatly as well. In short, I wanted to do analysis with words, something I didn’t think was even possible. I spent a lot of time in high school and early university worrying over finding the right major, time I don’t think I would have spent if I had known about linguistics sooner. Regarding university more generally, I really wish I’d been told more that changing your path is an absolutely natural thing to do. I always worried that I had a limited number of years to solidify my life path, so redirecting would mean I had “lost” those years I’d spent on whatever I was doing before. Once I adjusted my perspective and realized that life is more than just a single linear trajectory with set time limits, I became much more adaptable – and happier, as well!

Any other thoughts or comments?

Dear reader: if you’re like me and you appreciate both language and scientific analysis (and/or find yourself studying the etymology section of the dictionary in your spare time), you should definitely explore linguistics if you haven’t already. Even if it’s not as a major or career, it will probably a) fascinate and delight you and b) help you better understand how communication works, which can only serve you well in work, school, and life.

And if you are considering going to school for linguistics, I can tell you from my own personal experience that I’m very proud of my major, I can’t think of a single course I didn’t like, and although I’m just starting out in the working world, I can already see the massive benefits studying linguistics has had on my work. I’m very excited to see where my linguistics knowledge will take me in the future!

Recently:

Interview with a Marketing Content Specialist

Interview with a Software Engineer

Interview with a Product Manager

Interview with a Communications Specialist

Interview with a Learning Scientist

Check out the Linguist Jobs Master List and the Linguist Jobs tag for even more interviews 

[likesomekindofcheese]

At the Opera (Part one)

Pairing: Brian May x F! Singer! Reader.

Fluff! Lot’s of fluff! A bit of angst!

Word Count: 2,000

Content warning: swearing, mentions of boners, Reader and Brian being twice shy, nervous little beans

Context: Brian see’s you make your first big opera debut at school. He falls immediately in love with you. He’s scared of seeming like a creeper, though, and hopes he doesn’t...Switches between his perspective and yours.

Note: I am so excited about this fic I can’t stand it!!!!

First off, I imagine this takes place in the early seventies after Queen I or Queen II and before A Night at the Opera (heh) is released. Secondly, though is written to identify as female, use she/her pronouns, an opera singer, a student, and a soprano, if requested, I can make and send a different version to you. Maybe a reader who is in a musical! Or a straight play! Or is singing a mezzo role! Or a male reader! (etc.). Message me ASAP and I will message a version to you! with your desired version! A second part will be up in time and will probably stop there unless another idea comes. Enjoy and please leave feedback!

Brian had absolutely nothing else to do on a Friday evening except go by himself to an opera by a local University. It was a night where nothing was happening. No work. No papers to grade. No rehearsal. Nothing planned between the band members or his friend. He had those nights before. He was unusually restless. Instead of dwelling in his loneliness he thought he might as well go out. Get his mind from any sadness. And something a little different then heavy drums would be appreciated.

He looked down at the program once he got his seat. “Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi.” According to the summary in his encyclopedia it was only an hour long. If he didn’t like it, it would be over in a wink. After all, when he visited Freddie’s place once he noticed a record of it standing on top of a pile. If it was good enough for Freddie, then it was worth the ticket.

 (You)

“Five minutes until the top!”

“Thank you, five!”

You stay still. You don’t really feel like talking to the other cast members. You smooth some of the white skirt and pray that the food crumble from the pre-performance snack doesn’t show. You were nervous. Tonight you were singing Lauretta in Schicchi for the first time- Lauretta! All of the sopranos in the school who it could have been and it was you! It didn’t matter that it was  not one of the mainstage operas put on with a budget of millions and the biggest stage offered. It was one of your first major roles and you were doing everything you could not to burst. You had barely slept last night from the anticipation and the toll of exhaustion mixed with excitement were bubbling. 

Any wishes of good luck from the cast and crew were forgotten.

“What if the high c’s at the end sound like crap because I was stupid enough not to be able to sleep last night and what…”

“Places for top!”

You took a deep breath, listened to the slow beginning of the overture, and did your best to focus on the story and telling it.

You could still smell the hairspray from your curled hair. The director asked for a more “natural” look to contrast Lauretta from the more exaggerated commedia-esque stock characters and yet it took you longer to do your hair and make-up because your hands were shaking so bad. You wanted to look like the flawless ingenue, but you felt briefly that you were just a toad in lipstick. How could anyone onstage believe you?

It was a while before you entered. Yet you stayed backstage, focusing on the meaning of every last note and word. The singer playing your onstage father, the titular Schicchi, walked up to prepare for your first entrance.  You both didn’t appear until twenty minutes in, but it was getting close.

He smiled and winked at you and then went into character with his smart, cynical frown. You took my place next to him, held the skirt of your white medieval gown as demurely as you could muster, and prepared for the sound cue to enter.

Once you entered, you carried on, just like in rehearsal. Reacting in the moment and singing with the clearest Italian you could and with as much focus on breath as possible. At one point, when Rinuccio, your onstage lover, held your hands, you both began to wail beautifully about how you both could not be married on May Day. You indulged a look away from the conductor to the audience. 

 It was a smaller theatre-actually the smallest theatre on the campus that could still allow a piano and a string quartet.  Plenty of old couples, college girls with long hair and red lips, and close to the middle, there was a very tall, thin, young man with a lion’s mane of curly, brown hair. Ironically, he seemed to be more into the opera than anyone else.

You were back in a second to the opera. You heard  Schicchi’s “Non! Non! Non!”

Naturally, you begin singing your aria, “O mio babbio caro...”

(Bri)

Though Brian was delighted by the opera by the first note and laughing at the onstage family’s antics and allowing the music to charm him.

Then you entered onstage.

“Her eyes are so pretty and expressive…and she’s so small, she’s like a baby bird, oh, if only she was a little bird or even a cat I could hold in my hands for just a minute and her hair seems so soft, and, oh…that smile, oh she’s smiling, that fucking smile, she’s so beautiful and adorable, oh hell, oh hell. Oh fuck, and that voice, oh fuck, that voice. It’s so gorgeous and warm and genuine, oh, I’m so sorry Fred, but oh fuck, that voice, if only she could look at me, please look at me, please look at me and sing for me, just one word, please”

You crossed to a man - who was supposed to be her lover. Brian suddenly felt his stomach drop and his face twist to a frown.

“You git, it’s make believe. They aren’t together in real life...I hope they aren’t

He tried to peel his eyes away to another cast member to see what else they would do onstage that would amuse him. But he kept finding he was stealing quick glances.

When you began your aria, he felt tears well up in his eyes. It was so sweet sounding. 

“O mio babbino caro! Mi piace, e bello, bello!”

He looked down at the translation program:

“Oh my dear papa! He pleases me, he is handsome!”

Brian had a sudden wish he was that boy. He felt the tears fall once he heard of Lauretta’s wish to die if she could not marry him.

“No , no, not you, the boy…”

(You)

You finished the aria. Looking into the audience, You were shocked to see a standing ovation.

Well, that is, one standing ovation. From the tall man with curly hair. And he was applauding like his life depended on it. A few others decided to follow suit and stood up to applaud and cheer. You did your best not to smile. Then once it had died down, Schicchi continued with his line- “Datemi il testamento!”

(Bri)

Brian sat down. He was flushed with embarrassment. How could he have been so…so much? But it was just so wonderful. 

He was sighing once Schicchi sent Lauretta away and you left the stage.

He kept staring at the space where she left. He liked the plot of the opera well enough, but he felt himself leaning forward in his seat with impatience.

Once you  appeared onstage for the last duet of triumph with Rinuccio, He was wondering if that man realized how lucky he was. 

 “I would wrap my arms around her l. I would hold her so tight that she would know she is safe, and everything is alright, now. I would look into those eyes looking up at me, I would pull her in, and then I would lean down so I can reach her lips and kiss…”

He pinched his own hand. “Focus, focus, the story is ending…wait…oh god, what if I have a stiffy! Shit! Shitshitshithshitshit!”

He looked down at his pants. Nothing was showing…that was obvious, at least. He had stopped himself before letting his fantasies go further. Still, he undid two buckles on his belt, just to be safe.

He looked down at the program, flipping to the cast list on the second page.

“Lauretta…(Y/F/N Y/L/N)”

(You)

The cast and crew gathered in the lobby for everyone to say their congratulations. You felt a ping of sadness that your family and friends could not make it. The most they could do was send some flowers, dangling in your arms.

You saw him stand a little in the corner, awkardly. He seemed very quiet. You glanced up at him and felt him glance up at you and your eyes shot back down. Then you looked back up and saw him look down. He was definitely close to your age. 

Finally, you locked eyes for a bit. He swiftly walked to you and the flowers trembled in your arms. You wanted to run behind the stage door and slam it shut, yet at the same time you didn’t.

He walked up and said “Hi, I’m Brian, Brian May.”

“Hi Brian, I’m Y/N.”

Is someone actually approaching me???? And starting the conversation?? 

“ I just wanted to let you know, you were astounding. Your song was my favorite part…and this was my first opera!” Brian said

“Oh wow! Schicchi’s a great first opera.” you say, swallowing. “It’s a comedy, after all, and most people don’t think of opera’ as funny.”

“I loved it! I laughed so much! How do you keep from laughing onstage?”

“I breathe really slowly and focus, Brian.” You dropped his name and froze.

Wow, I must seem forward. But I don’t want to forget it...

“That’s wonderful, and the music is just, just incredible! What is it like to sing it?” he asked.

Your brain began to spiral from your shyness and desperation to seem confident.

“It’s very…it’s, I don’t know, it’s intimidating. My voice is rather small for Puccini, he likes bigger voices, so I was really nervous doing this role. My legs were shaking all the time onstage.”

 It struck you how handsome Brian really was. His height and hair made him seem intimidating, but his smile and eyes were soft, nonthreatening. His hair framed his cheekbones in a way that made him beautiful, in his own way. And when he reached his hands out and stretched out his fingers, they moved as fluidly as a dancers. His speaking was gentle, almost quiet, but clear. Like a kindly fairy prince.

“I couldn’t tell!” he said. He added a smile that made you feel like you were hit by a train.

“It’s the dress! Really! Our costume people were geniuses” you say.

You began feeling self-conscious-didn’t want to appear weird or snobby or ugly to him.

“But you seemed so…so calm and confident. I’m a musician, but uhm…I’m not a classical musician, you could say. But my friend loves opera, so I decided to try it. So I know what it’s like to be nervous about how you do, you were incredible.” Brian adds, folding his arms.

“A musician! Do you play anything or sing!?” You say, it would be polite to steer the conversation towards him.

“Both…uhm…” he crawled in a little “I do sing, and there’s a lot I play, but the guitar is my favorite.”

Guitars, guitars, what can I say to him that would be interesting about guitars? 

“I…I like guitars. It’s such a soothing sound.”

Brilliant, you idiot girl 

“Do you play?” you add, hoping for a save.

He just said he played, crap,  he’s gonna laugh at me.

“Er, yes, yes I do!” He smiled genuinely  

“I play in a band, and I do lots but usually it’s electric guitar. Is there any instrument you play, Y/N?”

“I struggle with piano. I love the sound, but I don’t know how to really play it. Most of the time, I pluck out melodies. It’s partly how I learned this role.” you say. Your face got hot and you felt red as an apple.

“I could maybe…”

There were some clicks, the lights in the back were going out. People were clearing out of the lobby. 

“Well, it’s closing…we have another performance tomorrow.” you add on.

“Any others?” Brian asked. He began to stroke his chin in fascination.

“No, just two… You could tell your friends about it.” You said,

“I will” Brian said.

“Same time, same place.” You remind him, feeling a tiny, shy grin on your face.

There was a little pause.

“Thank you for talking with me, Brian, it means a lot, since it’s my first big role” you blurt quickly. You didn’t want to get locked out of the theater by accident.

“I enjoyed tonight a lot, Y/N...”

“Goodbye, Brian.”

Goodbye Y/N.”

You turned around and walked out.  You realized you were the last to turn in your costume, change, and leave the theater. You were happy with how you sang, but you felt sad. You wished you could see that kind, handsome man again...Maybe you never would. 

(Bri)

Brian couldn’t go to sleep and kept tossing and turning in his bed.

Just one more performance…

He had to go. But he was… was frightened. You were so beautiful and  caring that he didn’t know if he could survive a second meeting without exploding from nerves. You would think he was a creep and the thought of it made him nauseous. He couldn’t go.

At least, not alone.

There was rehearsal tomorrow. He could leave a little early and still arrive to the theater on time. There was enough time to talk one of them, at least, to go...

Deacy would shy away. He would be too worried and his worry would pile onto Brian’s worry until they were a mess.

Roger?

- rather be shot than go to an opera.

 Besides, Roger would guess the real reason Brian wanted to go. The thought of Roger wolf-whistling at you during your aria made him want to crawl under a rock.

That left only one member of the band, then. The one that could help him.

And naturally, the opera fan among them.

[hananeouddoud]

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[leo-lucid]

Bewitching Which Monster Chapter 10: The Incubus

I've been settling into a routine within the past few days with the monsters. I would wake up and enjoy a wonderful breakfast that Zam prepares every morning, practice some of my magic (without any mishaps), work on some school work online, and enjoy my free time by casually practicing some light magic while watching documentaries. I would visit Mystis in the gardens, explain my magic to Beo, barely see Endrian, deal with Cassi's flirting, wave at Danton silently, and help Zamuel with some chores around the mansion. Life was simple. And I liked it a lot.

But, I knew that I was to get off my butt and start taking my roommates seriously. The first date I had was with Cassius, something that I had been dreading ever since I read his name on the schedule. I was hoping that the days would move slowly so I had more time to think and prepare myself for it. Unfortunately, there are no spells that halted time and there always will be only twenty-four hours in a day.

Before I knew it, the day had come. Tonight was my date with Cassi. I have noticed that he seemed much more flirtatious in the past couple of days. It was probably out of excitement for our date. I really wished that I could be equally as excited, but it was hard for me to overlook the fact that he was an incubus.

What was an incubus doing in Hazelview? I have no clue. Probably seducing some of the bachelorettes around the area. That seemed like the most likely possibility. Then again, I shouldn't make assumptions about why everyone was in this small town. The only thing I was really looking forward to for the date was to learn about how Cassi got cursed if that conversation topic can be brought up. I was curious on how all the monsters got cursed.

I stood in my room in front of a mirror, holding up two different dresses, looking back and forth between them. While I wasn't necessarily looking forward to the date in its entirety, I at least had to make an effort to look good. I had no idea where Cassius was taking me either, so that didn't help. I looked over at the black dress covered in light pink roses and then back over at the purple dress with sheer black sleeves. Eventually, I settled on the purple dress, pairing it with a simple black choker.

As the time to get going was fast approaching, I couldn't help but feel more and more nervous. I haven't been on a date before, and to know that Cassi was going to be my first date was in a way, disheartening. I thought that my first date would be with someone that I was truly interested in. Someone that I genuinely had a crush on. I never imagined that my first date would be with a seductive demon from Hell. A playboy.

I zipped up the back of the dress and stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was in a messy bun, something I should probably straighten out. As I began to fix my bun, there was a knock on the door. Putting in the last bobby pin in my purple hair, I answered the door to find that it was Zamuel. I sighed in relief, thinking that it would be the demon himself, ready for our date. The zombie butler must've noticed my reaction as he gave a small, reassuring smile.

"Someone seems to be quite nervous." He simply commented. I made some room for him to enter and I shook my head, another sigh escaping my lips.

"You have no idea. I don't even know where we are going. I don't even know how to act around him. All he's done is flirt since we've met. I'm afraid that that's all he's going to do throughout the date. . ." I admitted. Zam's smiled died down as he listened to my miniature rant, his silver eye clearly conveying what I guessed was sympathy.

"Mr. Faren can seem like nothing but a playboy, but there are different sides to him. He helped your grandmother a lot back when she was still alive. Well, perhaps 'help' isn't the right word. He more or less kept her company lending the occasional hand when she asked. He was sweet towards your grandmother, and not in a flirtatious way." Zam revealed.

My grandmother seemed to not only be a grandmother to me, but to everyone in the house. Everyone respected her and missed her as much as I did. It did surprise me to hear that Cassius was of some help though. I expected Zam to tell me that he spent his time chasing girls around town. "Thank you, Zamuel. That piece of information does make me feel a little bit better."

"I'm sure you'll find something in common with him. I don't doubt that his nature won't be toned down, but I'm confident that you'll gain something from the date. Anyways, I came to wish you luck and to help your nerves. I take it that my mission was successful?" Zam inquired.

I gave a soft smile and looked up at him, grateful for his words of comfort. I actually felt my cheeks heat up a little. "It was. Thank you again, Zam."

"No trouble at all, Ms. Devane. I'll leave you to finish getting ready. If you need anything, I'll just be cleaning in the foyer." He bowed and left the room. Zam always seemed to know just what to say to help me. As he left, I took a deep breath and finished getting ready by putting on some light makeup and black kitten heels.

Moments later, there was another knock on my door. The knock was musical in a sense, signaling that it was Cassius this time. When I opened the door, I expected to see the familiar demon in just a blazer and dress pants. He usually walked around shirtless with just a blazer. Instead though, we wore a white button down and black tie along with his midnight blue blazer and pants. In his arms was a bouquet of purple roses.

"Ah, My Angel. You look lovely this evening. Are you ready to go?" He smiled his signature, seductive smile and handed the roses over. I was surprised that he was acting a little gentlemanly now. Being gifted a present at the beginning of the date was really old-school. But, I really appreciated it. I especially appreciated that he was wearing a shirt.

Putting the bouquet of roses in a vase in my bathroom, replacing an older bouquet that I made from the flowers growing in the garden, I answered his question. "Ready as I ever will be. Where are we going?"

Cassi chuckled and put a finger to his lips. "That's still a secret, my dear Ani. Come along now. I don't want everything to end up getting ruined."

I quirked a brow and followed. Besides the nicknames, it was almost refreshing to carry on our conversation without any banter from him. I followed along, my nerves starting to come back as we made our way out of my room and soon enough, out of the mansion. A taxi was waiting for us outside in the driveway, the taxi driver that had dropped me off when I first moved into town. She smiled at me through the window and Cassi opened the door for me to hop in.

I got in the taxi and watched as Cassi gently closed the door behind me. While I waited for him to walk around the other side to get in, the taxi driver spoke to me. "I take it that you settled in nicely considering that you're going on a date with Cassius. But I must warn you, you aren't the first girl he's called a taxi for. He's a bit of a playboy. But who knows? Maybe you can change him."

He finally opened the door and settled into the seat next to me, buckling up and signaling for the driver to start going. I stared out the window and watched all the trees pass us by, more and more leaves falling off the branches as Fall became more prominent. The car ride did feel a bit awkward, at least from my perspective. I didn't know what to say. It took me some time to figure out how to get a conversation going. "Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They were lovely."

"Of course. I want your first date to be the one you would never forget. Speaking of our date, we're here." Cassius casually replied. The car slowed to a stop in front of a nice Italian restaurant, a safe and classic choice considering that he didn't know too much about me. You could never go wrong with pasta.

The door was opened for me and I was helped out of the car. After tipping the driver, Cassi looked towards me and smirked. "We won't be dining on the main floor with everyone else. I have a special place set up just for us."

He began walking down a dark alley to which I followed cautiously. A small flight of stairs that led to the roof were located further down the alleyway to which the incubus began to climb up. Once I got to the roof, I saw a little table for two decorated with a white tablecloth, rose petals, and candles. Along the ground were rose petals and candles illuminating the area around us. The view of the town as also something to marvel at.

Seeing Cassius among the flower petals and candles, standing by a chair, pulled out and waiting for me to sit down, it made my cheeks burn up. It looked like he put in a lot of effort into this date. The look in his eyes wasn't the usual look of desire either. It was sincere and inviting. Another incubus trick?

"Won't you sit down and share a meal with me, My Angel?" He called over. My heart skipped a beat as he said this, his tone still flirty but much more welcoming. I hesitantly took a step forward until I ended up near the table. I took the seat and he helped push me closer to the table. He took the empty seat across from me and scooted in. His face seemed much more gentle above all the candles.

A waiter ascended the stairs and met us on the rooftop, filling our glasses with water first before asking about appetizers. I took a quick look at the menu and ordered a Caesar salad to start. Cassi ordered some escargot and the waiter nodded before going back down to the kitchen. There was a moment of silence between us as I looked around, admiring the stars, the town lights from above, and the petals that littered the table and ground.

The incubus smirked and settled his chin in his hand, his elbow propped up on the table. "Like what you see? Although, I would prefer it if you were looking at me."

"Cassius, this whole setup, it's gorgeous. Thank you for the effort. I really do appreciate it." I responded, trying to ignore his last line. I knew that some lines like that were going to slip sooner or later.

He went a little wide-eyed and grinned at my thanks, clearly grateful for it. "It's no big deal. The only trouble I had was making sure that this scene was as perfect as you."

Before I could reply, out appetizers were delivered to the table. My salad looked great on my plate while Cassi's looked equally as appetizing. The waiter asked us about our main courses to which Cassi ordered for the both of us. A chicken Alfredo for me and a carbonara for himself. I was shocked that he ordered my favorite pasta dish. I wondered how he knew that it was my favorite. He must've noticed my expression since he smirked at me.

"Your grandmother made a fantastic chicken Alfredo. It was her favorite, so I guessed that it was your favorite pasta dish as well." He explained. Once again, I was proven that my grandmother was close with all of the monsters. I relaxed in my seat and felt like I could carry on with the conversation.

"How close were you with my grandmother?" I asked. Cassi's expression only became much more gentle as he reminisces about the times he had with my grandmother.

"Rosemary was a kind and strong lady. I would lend her a hand sometimes while she worked in that magical room. I would clean and organize things for her, fetch her things from the top shelves. In return, she would make me homemade cologne and give me life advice. She was truly a heavenly being. You take after her, you know?" He stared deep into my eyes as he spoke.

I listened carefully as I munched on my salad. Knowing my grandmother, she probably scolded him for being a bit of a playboy too. Her appreciation for his help would've trumped over her disgust though. "I see. Thank you for helping my grandmother when she needed it. Can you tell me more about your relationship with her? She never spoke about any of you guys, so I'm curious to know more."

"Of course, Ani. She really tried her best to get to know us and to help us all escape our curses. Opening up to her wasn't easy for everyone, but since I'm a pretty open man, it was easy for me to explain my situation to her right off the bat. She always seemed to like my honesty at the very least. She was able to give it to me straight too, something I liked about her as well. We both shared that trait, I believe. Honesty." He continued, finishing off the last of his escargot and taking a sip of water.

It was no shocker that he was an open and honest monster. It wasn't a surprise that grandmother liked that about him. "If I may ask, how did you end up getting cursed and confined to this town?"

"That's an easy one. Simply, I broke the wrong heart a long time ago. I was courting what I learned later was a powerful witch from this town and being an incubus, I moved on to another bachelorette. It was part of a job that I was doing. She found out and cursed me to stay within this town forever. I still found it to be an odd curse. She could've cursed me to be ugly or to always stay with her instead."

"Nope. I just simply can't leave Hazelview. It's an inconvenient thing too since as an incubus, I don't age. I come across the same people I use to court sometimes and I have to hide myself to avoid suspicion. I was lucky enough to find the mansion and hide out there. It's been about nine years now since I've been cursed." He carefully described to me.

I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Whether he deserved the curse or not, no one should be forced to stay in town. Being a witch myself, along with being a woman, I could better explain to him why he may have been forced to stay in town. "Well, I think that the witch you met long ago wanted you to have to face the women you also left heartbroken everyday. To face the people that remember you as the playboy that broke their hearts must be tough. Unless. . . you don't feel remorse?"

At that, Cassi's face fell and he appeared slightly embarrassed. "That does make sense. Rosemary said something similar not too long ago, but I was a little too frustrated with the curse to hear her properly. As for the whole remorse thing, I suppose I do feel sorry. It's part of my nature, it was my job. I. . ."

He trailed off, seeming to now look right past me and out into the scene of the town behind me. I looked behind me to see if he was looking at something important, but I found nothing behind me. "Cassius?"

He snapped out of it, blinking and shaking his head. "Sorry, My Angel. As I was saying, I suppose that I do feel a sense of regret in breaking the hearts of so many women, even the cheaters. Some things you can just never get over."

I was going to ask him what he meant by that, but then our food was delivered to our table and the conversation topic changed. "I know that you are still in college. What does an educated and growing lady like you want to do with her life after graduating?"

Above all else, I wanted to become a witch like my grandmother and mothers, but I knew that that wouldn't help me make too much cash. Not enough to support myself at least. So, I explained that I wanted to go into botany and possibly double major in crystallography, both subjects that I could relate back to my witchy practices. Cassi seemed genuinely interested in my studies and offered his assistance in anything I needed like he did for my grandmother.

After a while, I couldn't help myself but ask about his past relationships. He was still an incubus after all. Even if he seemed very human moments ago, I had to remind myself that he was a demon. "So, how many women have you brought here?"

"I just knew you were going to ask me that question at some point. I'll be honest with you, you're the first person I brought up here. I usually come to this restaurant and dine on the roof when I need some alone time. A nice meal with a great view always cheers me up. I'm just glad that I can share it with you now, Ani." He laughed before he took on a much more sincere tone. My cheeks turned red. I didn't expect to be the first lady he's brought here. Cassi was actually full of surprises.

We finished up our meals and continued to chat. Soon enough, the waiter came by and inquired about dessert. Cassius ordered a chocolate lava cake to split and the conversation continued. I found myself becoming more and more relaxed by the minute. We talked like regular people did, asking about future dreams and hobbies. We were genuinely getting to know each other and I was starting to see Cassi was not just an incubus, but a man with other interests. There was the occasional flirty remarks here and there, but other than that, he was acting like a gentleman.

The chocolate lava cake was split, the outside soft and moist while the inside was hot and rich. It was absolutely delicious. As I swallowed a bit of cake, Cassi cut a small piece with his dessert fork and held it up near my mouth. The look in his eyes were seductive again, though there was a mixture of something else within them. Adoration? Admiration? "Here. Say 'ah'. . ."

A heavy blush swept over my cheeks at the gesture. Normally, I would have refused. This time though, I went along with it. I don't know why or even how I managed to to it, but I did. I opened my mouth and let the incubus feed me some chocolate cake. It reminded me that we were on a date, making my heart skip a beat. The way that he smirked at me made my heart picked up in pace as well. There was a lot more to Cassi than I initially thought.

Dessert was finished and Cassi paid for the bill. I shivered as I stood up, forgetting my jacket back at home. Continuing to impress, my date took off his blazer and draped it over my shoulders. "Here you go, My Angel. Don't want you to catch a cold."

"Th-Thank you. . ." I stuttered, growing that much more conscious of his actions. It no longer seemed that he was being flirty to just seduce like an incubus did. It seemed that his actions were genuine, like he was actually interested in me.

We walked down the stairs and began to walk home, Cassius' hand grazing against mine every once in a while. My blush continued to grace my face as we walked, Cassi stepping closer to my side. "If you had to rate this date on a scale of one to ten, what would you give it?" ' ". . . I would give it a solid eight. I have no frame of reference, but I thought that this was a great date." I gave it some thought before revealing my answer. It really was a nice date. I was uncomfortable and skeptical at first, but I was amazed at all the effort he put into it. He looked at me, pride written all over his face along with an adorable smile. Another aspect about him that startled me, Cassi could also appear to be a little cute along with being handsome.

"I'll take an eight! I would rate this date a solid nine myself. There's only one thing that would make it a ten out of ten. . ." He hinted.

Being a little oblivious, I tilted my head, trying to think of what would make this date better for him. As we approached the house and stood outside the large doors, I suddenly felt my hand being taken up in a gentle grip. It was soft and warm, something that I didn't want to let go of anytime soon.

I couldn't believe what I was thinking. Just as I pushed the thought out of my head, I felt a pair of warm lips meet my freckled cheek, the smell of his cologne just now hitting my senses. It wasn't too strong and it smelled nice. It must have been a cologne my grandmother crafted for him.

My heart skipped a beat as he pulled away, his pink eyes meeting mine. For a second, I could've sworn that his gaze went down to my lips. His face moved an inch closer to mine, causing me to shut my eyes tight. I expected to receive my first kiss, but I only felt a peck on my other cheek instead. I opened my eyes to see Cassi smirking and looking pretty smug. "Anticipating a kiss, Ani?"

My face blushed hard and I began to stammer once again. "I-I. . ."

"It's okay. Perhaps soon. I don't want to steal your first kiss like this. I want you to give it to me instead. When you absolutely fallen head over heels for me that it. I know that that will be soon. For now, why don't you clean up and get some rest, yes?" He teased a little, his lines now affecting me.

He opened the door for me and I headed inside. As I ascended the stairs, I paused and looked back down at Cassi. He was smiling up at me, flipping some of his long, dark purple hair back over his shoulder. "Hm? Miss me already?"

"Th-That's not it. Your jacket. . ." I shrugged off his blazer and handed it over to him before dashing up the stairs. I could hear him chuckle behind me and throw his jacket over his shoulder.

"Good night, My Angel. I'll see you in the morning." He said his final words before heading to his own room for the night.

I closed the door to my room and plopped down onto the bed. My heart was still pounding from earlier and I couldn't help but imagine what it may have been like to actually share a kiss with the incubus. Just thinking about it made my heart pick up in pace. Trying to get it out of my head, I headed into the bathroom to wash up before bed. I started the waters and waited for the tub to fill up. As I waited, I noticed the purple flowers sitting on my white, marble bathroom counter.

And I couldn't help but smile.

[esprit-de-corps-magazine]

Commander General Teo Luzi’s Inaugural Address

While assuming the lead of the Carabinieri Corps I would like to express some thoughts arising from my heart.

My first respectful consideration is dedicated to the Head of State, whom I thank for the thoughtful attention constantly devoted to the Corps, thus stimulating and encouraging all of the Carabinieri.

A special greeting goes to the Chied of the Council of Ministers  Professor Giuseppe CONTE, to whom I grant absolute institutional loyalty and unlimited commitment, grateful for the priviledge and trust awarded by the Government.

The wise Fathers of our Constitution, who made this country a big Republic, stated at paragraph 98 of the Constitution that the civil servants are “exclusively committed to the Nation”. Mister President, my action will be inspired by this principle, as a civil servant myself, conscious of my duty to pursue the common interest rather than individual or partial ones. 

In the same feeling I hail the Ministry of Defence Hon. Lorenzo Guerini.  Distinguished Minister, the Carabinieri Corps will grant the determination and willpower peculiar to your Ministry.

To the Ministry of Interior, Cons. Luciana Lamorgese, my respectful homages, thus confirming the share of intent that our cooperation experimented over the years and the assignments.

To the Capo di Stato Maggiore della Difesa (questo lo traduci tu), Generale Enzo Vecciarelli, I grant my commitment to a working style characterized by a synergic and sistemic vision constantly inspiring the lead of the Army, according to the Capi di Stato Maggiore and the Segretario generale. I thank them for them being here, testifying the shared feeling of the military population to whom the Army is connected in pursuing its institutional mission.

To the Capo della Polizia Direttore generale del Dipartimento della Pubblica Sicurezza, al Comandante generale della Guardia di Finanza e al Capo del Dipartimento dell’Amministrazione penitenziaria, I reserve my most sincere feelings of friendship and high consideration, ready to share the responsibilities that will derive from the needs for safety of the Country, with full respect for the role designed for every Institution.

I would like to join Generale Nistri in hailing the Presidents of the Commissioni Difesa del Senato della Repubblica e della Camera dei Deputati, the Directors of the Organi di informazione per la sicurezza, the representatives of the Magistrature, the Autorità civili ed ecclesiastiche, who testify the consideration reserved by the Institutions to the Army.

Such a consideration is also due to the action of my predecessors: I am deeply grateful for this to the Comandanti Generali emeriti, distinguished example of “teacher of military life” of mine and to the President of the National Association of Carabinieri, dell’Associazione Nazionale Forestali e dell’Opera Nazionale Assistenza Orfani Militari dell’Arma dei Carabinieri.

I hail the Vice Comandante Generale and Comandanti di Vertice, confident to be able to count on their qualified cooperation within a common vision of the Army.

I am now addressing all of those who are not here, in this headquarter, nevertheless for me it is as if they were: all of the Carabinieri and citizens who are watching this ceremony from the most faraway sites of the national territory on streaming, thank to the most important newspapers that I would like to thank for their cooperation. Among those, my companions of the 160° Corso dell’Accademia militare di Modena with whom in 1978 I started my service and afterwards shared, all over the time, the values of military ethic.

To the Generale Nistri my utmost gratitude for appointing me, over two years ago, as Capo di Stato Maggiore, thus allowing me to live an experience of extraordinary professional values, also due to the knowledge of the whole public apparatus I gained.

Thank you, dear Gianni, for the extraordinary example of consistency, determination and intellectual honesty I was gifted with during the last two years of hard work beside you. I wish you and your family all the best.

To the Rappresentanza Militare and to the perspective Sindacati, that will constitute a new reality, I grant my greatest attention and ask for any cooperation being aware that our dialogue will always allow us the best results for the individual health of the whole staff, true multiplier of efficiency.

Finally, I would like to share a loving look to my wife Giusy and my daughter Eleonora, for the sacrifices always faced for supporting me. I would like to think that thank to their natural semplicity they ideally represent all Carabinieri’s families!

   I now would like to briefly share with you my institutional vision.

I think of an Army syntethizing the culture, history and popular attitude of our Homeland and thus appreciated by the citizens, who see in it the ability to share generosity and bravery, competence and empathy. These skills are reflected outside the national borders, thus contributing to enhancing the appreciation for Italy all over the world.

Such an army is firstly expresse by the 4.900 Stazioni Carabinieri scuttered all over the peninsula, where the Comandanti work together with the Majors and the other caharcters of the social life on the territory, serving the local communities also in their need for facing public emergencies.

A military organization, peculiar component of the national instrument of defence and safety, more and more integrated, interoperative and interforce.  An unicum among the Armies of allied countries and for this reason true added value of the Italian armed forces committed with the international operations of stabilization that, even more frequently, engage our Country.

A policy force with general competence fully participant to a model of coordination,  always supported because capable of preserving the richness of the complex system of national public safety, whose unitary direction is given to the Ministry of Interior and locally to the Prefetti, that I thank for the concrete closeness to the varoius events occurring in our daily life.

A ductil and effect operational tool, available to the Prosecution authority to face, with method and perseverance, multiple criminal threats: from religious-rooted terrorsim to the illicit traffic also on an international scale of organized armed groups, to the subtle expressions of bribery and predatory pitfalls.

A technologically evoluted Army, that matches the undeniable central role of the human creature with the most advanced tecnhlogical applications, necessary for improving the safety level and implementing the effectiveness of the administrative action for the citizen.

An institution more and more committed with special units for ensuring the safety in all its dimensions, e.g. the protection of the environment, of the cultural heritage, of the security of workplace and of health.

Among these units I would like to recall, for its peculiarity, the high expertise of the Carabinieri forestali, nowadays constituting part of the Army, more and more committed with the bio-security and persepctively instruments of uncomparable realiabilty, available to the Government authorities for initiatives of “environmental diplomacy” in a naturally gloal sector.

I would like to address now my Carabinieri, men and women, true richness of our Istitution.

More than 40 years ago a Maresciallo unkown to me, Comandante di Stazione in my small village, offered me, with simplicity and generosity, the chance to enroll in the Army, then having me summoned by the Comandante della Compagnia, who strengthened this purpose in me.

 I have to admit the when the news of my appointment as Comandante Generale reached me I immediately recalled that Comandante di Stazione, his authority and his human qualities.

Addressing you Carabinieri, I am starting from here, how I imagine the contact with the citizens made of capabilty of listening, understanding, kindness, trasnparency, but also strenght and determination.

In many years of service I found many times these attitudes in many Carabinieri. Therefore on the first day of my manadate I would like to publicly express my sincere admiration for you and particularly for the youngest of you because I know that you will have to cope with many challenges that my generation has been saved from.

The actions that the Army will have to face will be new and complex, nevertheless we look at the future with serenity to share with the citizens – through our exemplary service – social optimism and  faith in the institutions.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

I do not ignore the severe facts caused by the deprecable behaviour of some unfaithful Carabinieri.  We must not look at the episodes with indifference, on the contrary we need to learn from the mistakes.

I felt myself deep bitterness and pain. We need to accept the critics, even the most pungent, that need to persuade us to improve ourselves in order for some depicable behaviours to be prosecuted and where possible prevented.

I am convinced and determined in saying this! The Army is and always be the place where the trust of the Italian citizens lies: it is a “cristal house” inhabited by an authentic spirit of altruism and strictness.

This involves the realiability of our institution, built over two centuries of history, accompanying the daily routine of the Italian citizens, even in the most difficult time as the ones we are living, carachterized by a senso of loss due to the pandemic.

I proudly recall that no one Carabinieri headquarter since the beginning of the sanitary emergency closed, even counting more than 7.600 infected members and 20 deads: a tribute expressing a global institutional choice, shared by the Carabinieri of any level, all conscious of the necessity to reach any citizen, in order to prevent anyone from feeling abandoned. Even in these hours, everywhere, the Carabinieri are operating, together with other Police Forces in order to have the vaccines delivered in security to all he sanitary structures.

This is the face of the Army, that any citizen knows and wants to recognizes, without which any operative result,  albeit remarkable, turns into a dry narration. The operative value of the Army, indeed, cannot be measured in terms of barren statistics, on the contrary through the consideration of the citizens, definitely not countable and consequence of the ability of every Carabiniere to interpret and satisfy the most various requests for security.

This is the authenic spirit of the Army! The distinguishing features of our Institution since its origins. We look at them with no demagogy but with consistency because the history can inspire us, render us more humble and conscious of the commitments that we are engaged in fo fulfill the expectations of the Italian citizens!

For all the above said, today more than yesterday, we need unity and coesion.  

To this purpose I would like to make a reflection upon the command strategy at various level.

The word authority derives from the latin word “augère”, meaning increasing. Who is invested with it has the duty to improve him or herself and those depending on his or her decisions.

Whoever is committed with a command role needs to feel the urgency to listen to his or her collaborators, in a contiuous dialogue to support enthusiasm, but also to control their behaviour, removing mistakes and reconstituing, in every single soldier and in those units as a whole, that fulfilling sens of satisfaction for having made one’s duty.

This is the strength of authority that nourishes the Institutions, deprived of any empty authoritarianism.

This is my purpose! I will be by your side and I will take care in involving you. To enrich every strategic choice with your contributions that, I already know, will be proactive and selfless. To offer you my experience , my attention, my support in our common path.

In these feelings, in the solemnity of the Flag  here exposed and in the memory of our dead soldier, conscious of our duty to preserve the Army as a precious heritage of the citizens, I am starting this new challenge with the support of the Government Authorities, of my conscience and - I am sure – of my Carabinieri.

Viva l’Arma dei Carabinieri!

Viva l’Italia!

[letterboxd]

Coming of Age.

There’s nothing like a good coming of age film, as the Letterboxd community has recently demonstrated. From Rebel Without a Cause to Stand By Me to Boyhood, there’s something about the transition from youth to adulthood that gets us right in the feels. (Get it perfect and you’ll hit the Academy in the feels, too: hello, Moonlight.)

The last year has seen a great run of coming of age films: Moonlight of course, along with Hunt for the Wilderpeople, American Honey, The Edge of Seventeen and Mustang.

And now a new wave is now rolling in, notably: Greta Gerwig’s Lady Bird, Luca Guadagnino’s Call Me By Your Name, Kevin Phillips’ thriller Super Dark Times, and, to a certain extent, Todd Haynes’ Wonderstruck and Sean Baker’s The Florida Project.

Letterboxd caught up with Gerwig, Guadagnino and Haynes at the recent 55th New York Film Festival; what follows is a combination of press conference and Letterboxd-specific questions about comings-of-age and memorable movies.

Greta Gerwig—Lady Bird

Gerwig’s first film as the sole writer-director, Lady Bird stars Saoirse Ronan as the title character, a spirited Sacramento high schooler who feels destined for greater things on the East Coast (“Lady Bird” is the fanciful name she gives herself; her parents know her as Christine but humor her nevertheless).

Although Lady Bird features many of the tropes familiar to American high school movies—prom, losing one’s virginity, best friend fights, wrong-side-of-the-tracks class comparisons—they’re handled in a fresh way, a deft balance between comedy and drama. Inspired by, but not directly drawn from, her own upbringing, Gerwig says, “It was a love letter to Sacramento, and I felt like what better way to make a love letter than through somebody who wanted to get out and then realised that they loved it.

“In a way it’s secretly the mother’s movie as much as it is Lady Bird’s movie. Somebody’s coming of age is somebody else’s letting go. And I was just as interested in the letting go as I was of the young people’s stories.”

Like many of its coming-of-age predecessors, such as Pretty in Pink and Blue is the Warmest Colour, Lady Bird has a strong class narrative running through it; a purposeful inclusion by Gerwig, who greatly admires English filmmaker Mike Leigh.

“Class is a very difficult thing in America,” she says. “We’re uncomfortable with class and how that works but I think it’s something that’s an invisible force that shapes a lot of people’s lives.

“Life is not fair, and resources are not divided fairly, either in talents or in economics. […] One thing that I wanted to explore is: Lady Bird’s always looking up at other people, and people she thinks have more, and have it all together, and meanwhile those people are looking up at other people. And she doesn’t see how much she has, because in a culture of ‘more more more’ and ‘I always need to get to the next level’, there’s no way that you can appreciate what you have.

“It’s that disease of always looking up and never being where you are.”

On the challenge of directing, Gerwig says her acting experiences stood her in good stead: “One of the reasons is that most directors only ever are on their own sets! They don’t actually know how anyone else does it. And I’ve been on a lot of sets, and I’ve seen a lot of different ways of working and a lot of different ways of relating to actors and crew, and I’ve sort of seen what works and what doesn’t work, and I took all these ideas that I’d been gathering over the years.

“And they could be as little as things like having your crew wear name-tags every day. Which sounds small, but… if you switch out camera operator and [the actors] don’t know who the new person is, and you know, because you’ve talked to them, but they don’t know. I stole that from Mike Mills on 20th Century Women. So I felt like that was helpful.

“My greatest joy is working with actors and watching them bring life to these things that I’ve put on the page that are essentially dead until they bring their spirit and their artistry to it. So I adore them, and I think they know that, and I have a lot of empathy for what I’m asking of them. Because I’ve been there. And it’s hard. I try to bring sensitivity to it.”

FYI: Lady Bird broke American box office records on its opening weekend.

Luca Guadagnino—Call Me By Your Name

Guadagnino (whose first language is Italian, hence the idiosyncrasies in the quotes to follow) says he was attracted to the adaptation of André Aciman’s novel Call Me By Your Name because, “I always found myself restless as an audience member towards films that tells the coming of age that are […] basically relying on the cliché, on what is the assumption that the narrative has to deliver in order to get there.”

Asked which cliché he wanted to avoid in particular, Guadagnino says, “I think for instance that there is the idea that there is a contrast against the lovers, is something that is so artificial. You know? That there has to be somebody who is gonna contrast them, and then the lover will triumph. And in the gay canon it will triumph or maybe it will be bittersweet, it will not triumph.”

Call Me By Your Name brings the teenaged Elio (Timothée Chalamet) and graduate student Oliver (Armie Hammer) into each other’s orbit via a long, hot summer at Elio’s family’s Italian villa. Clocking in at over two hours, it has a languid, unstructured feel, a narrative pattern directly inspired by Maurice Pialat’s À Nos Amours.

“That was very, very, very dear to me. What is great about Pialat’s cinema is the capacity that he has always had to really the avoid the traps of a narrative and to be very at the center of his characters, and to really be letting live the flesh and blood and bone and sperm and every other kind of biological fruits of these characters, in a way that is really connected to his audience members because we are like the people in the screen.

“I wanted to prove that I could tell the story from the perspective of someone like Pialat instead of from the perspective of a three-act script.”

See the trio of films about love that Luca Guadagnino chose for Letterboxd.

At the time of writing, Call Me By Your Name is sitting at the top of Letterboxd’s ‘Unofficial’ Top 50 for 2017, based on weighted ratings for the year to date.

Todd Haynes—Wonderstruck

Haynes directed the big screen version of Brian Selznick’s novel Wonderstruck, which Selznick himself adapted. It’s an epic story split between two children in two different time frames, both confronting deafness and looking for family. Julianne Moore stars in two roles, one a silent-movie star.

As well as a tribute “to the endurance of New York, to the history of New York”, Haynes says Wonderstruck is also about “the imagination of young people, the language of cinema… and the theme of deafness”. Haynes said in planning this film, he thought a lot about the films he saw as a child, “the films that kind of entered my mind and bloodstream and changed the way I saw things. They were films that were always maybe a little beyond my reach.”

We asked Haynes, Selznick and Moore to share their memories of the films that changed the way they saw things as children. Haynes chose Mary Poppins, Romeo & Juliet and The Miracle Worker as his key childhood movie memories. Visit the Letterboxd list to learn why.

Selznick, who also wrote the novel Hugo, which Martin Scorsese adapted, says he “mostly loved monster movies” when he was a kid. “I was really into The Phantom of the Opera, the Lon Chaney silent movie. I grew up in New Jersey, so there was the ‘creature double-feature’ in the afternoon when I got back from school. Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein, and King Kong.

“I’m distantly related to David O. Selznick who produced King Kong and Gone With the Wind and Rebecca, so there was also an added thrill of seeing my last name at the beginning of all of these movies that I really loved! Even though they were from the California movie-making side of the Selznicks, and I am from the New Jersey dry-cleaning side of the Selznicks. Successful dry-cleaner though, I have to say.

“And then, every year, looking forward to seeing The Wizard of Oz on TV when it was ever the holidays. And that moment, which I think is one of the great moments in cinema history, when Dorothy opens the door from her black and white world in Kansas into Oz.”

Meanwhile, Julianne Moore’s childhood movie memories are of the eclectic films programmed in a tiny Alaskan cinema, which ultimately transformed her approach to acting.

“When I was in fifth grade, my family moved to Juno, Alaska, and there was a movie theater in town that my sister and I went to every Saturday, no matter what. But because the population was so small in Juno they changed the movie every single week, so sometimes we’d go and see The Aristocats, and then one week it would be like One Day in the Life [from the novel by] Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. And then Minnie and Moskowitz, which is a Cassavetes film! And they let us in! Every Saturday! I didn’t know what I was watching half the time. I really didn’t, not until years later.

“It wasn’t until I would see movies in a revival house in Boston when I was in college that I kind of drew a connection to these movies I saw when I was in fifth grade … and it was just this sort of different, very, very human point of view. So if you’re Ivan Denisovich and you’re in prison and you reach down and you pull up a fish eye in your soup—I remember that very distinctly!—you know, that creates a different kind of experience to you right away, and you’ve done that visually with a fish eye in a spoon.

“It was something that kind of honed my interest in behavior, in performance, so I became interested in less in a theatrical kind of performance and more of a cinematic one because of this guy who owned a theater in Juno, Alaska.”

For more coming of age films, try these Letterboxd lists:

Teenage Wasteland: a Comprehensive List of Coming of Age Films A Film of Myself: My Favourite Female Coming of Age Films French Feminine Coming of Age Cinema

[pope-francis-quotes]

4th August >> (@ZenitEnglish By Jim Fair) #Pope Francis #PopeFrancis Acknowledges Pain of Many Priests in Current Environment. Letter on Feast of St. John Vianney, the Curé of Ars.

Pope Francis thanked priests for their sacrifices and acknowledged the pain many feel in the current environment in a lengthy letter on August 4, 2019, the Feast of St. John Vianney, Cure of Ars.

“On this, his feast day, I write this letter not only to parish priests but to all of you, my brother priests, who have quietly ‘left all behind’ in order to immerse yourselves in the daily life of your communities,” the Holy Father said. “Like the Curé of Ars, you serve ‘in the trenches’, bearing the burden of the day and the heat (cf. Mt 20:12), confronting an endless variety of situations in your effort to care for and accompany God’s people.

“I want to say a word to each of you who, often without fanfare and at personal cost, amid weariness, infirmity, and sorrow, carry out your mission of service to God and to your people. Despite the hardships of the journey, you are writing the finest pages of the priestly life.”

The Pope went on to note that in the context of the abuse crisis, many priests have suffered. He noted that on his many pastoral visits around the world he has heard the outrage of priests about the scandal and the damage it has done to the Church.

He also recognized the victims of the abuse, both sexual and of power. He stressed his commitment to reform.

“In these years, we have become more attentive to the cry, often silent and suppressed, of our brothers and sisters who were victims of the abuse of power, the abuse of conscience and sexual abuse on the part of ordained ministers,” Francis said. “This has been a time of great suffering in the lives of those who experienced such abuse, but also in the lives of their families and of the entire People of God.

“We are firmly committed to carrying out the reforms needed to encourage from the outset a culture of pastoral care, so that the culture of abuse will have no room to develop, much less continue. This task is neither quick nor easy: it demands commitment on the part of all. If in the past, the omission may itself have been a kind of response, today we desire conversion, transparency, sincerity, and solidarity with victims to become our concrete way of moving forward. This, in turn, will help make us all the more attentive to every form of human suffering.”

Pope Francis reminded priests to remain grateful and positive. He warned against falling into sadness and depression.

“May we allow our gratitude to awaken praise and renewed enthusiasm for our ministry of anointing our brothers and sisters with hope. May we be men whose lives bear witness to the compassion and mercy that Jesus alone can bestow on us.,” Francis concluded.

The Holy Father’s Full Letter

To my Brother Priests

Dear Brothers,

A hundred and sixty years have passed since the death of the holy Curé of Ars, whom Pope Pius XI proposed as the patron of parish priests throughout the world.[1] On this, his feast day, I write this letter not only to parish priests but to all of you, my brother priests, who have quietly “left all behind” in order to immerse yourselves in the daily life of your communities. Like the Curé of Ars, you serve “in the trenches”, bearing the burden of the day and the heat (cf. Mt 20:12), confronting an endless variety of situations in your effort to care for and accompany God’s people. I want to say a word to each of you who, often without fanfare and at personal cost, amid weariness, infirmity, and sorrow, carry out your mission of service to God and to your people. Despite the hardships of the journey, you are writing the finest pages of the priestly life.

Some time ago, I shared with the Italian bishops my worry that, in more than a few places, our priests feel attacked and blamed for crimes they did not commit. I mentioned that priests need to find in their bishop an older brother and a father who reassures them in these difficult times, encouraging and supporting them along the way.[2]

As an older brother and a father, I too would like in this letter to thank you in the name of the holy and faithful People of God for all that you do for them, and to encourage you never to forget the words that the Lord spoke with great love to us on the day of our ordination. Those words are the source of our joy: “I no longer call you servants… I call you friends” (Jn 15:15).[3]

PAIN

“I have seen the suffering of my people” (Ex 3:7)

In these years, we have become more attentive to the cry, often silent and suppressed, of our brothers and sisters who were victims of the abuse of power, the abuse of conscience and sexual abuse on the part of ordained ministers. This has been a time of great suffering in the lives of those who experienced such abuse, but also in the lives of their families and of the entire People of God.

As you know, we are firmly committed to carrying out the reforms needed to encourage from the outset a culture of pastoral care, so that the culture of abuse will have no room to develop, much less continue. This task is neither quick nor easy: it demands commitment on the part of all. If in the past, the omission may itself have been a kind of response, today we desire conversion, transparency, sincerity, and solidarity with victims to become our concrete way of moving forward. This, in turn, will help make us all the more attentive to every form of human suffering.[4]

This pain has also affected priests. I have seen it in the course of my pastoral visits in my own diocese and elsewhere, in my meetings and personal conversations with priests. Many have shared with me their outrage at what happened and their frustration that “for all their hard work, they have to face the damage that was done, the suspicion and uncertainty to which it has given rise, and the doubts, fears, and disheartenment felt by more than a few”.[5] I have received many letters from priests expressing those feelings. At the same time, I am comforted by my meetings with pastors who recognize and share the pain and suffering of the victims and of the People of God and have tried to find words and actions capable of inspiring hope.

Without denying or dismissing the harm caused by some of our brothers, it would be unfair not to express our gratitude to all those priests who faithfully and generously spend their lives in the service of others (cf. 2 Cor 12:15). They embody spiritual fatherhood capable of weeping with those who weep. Countless priests make of their lives a work of mercy in areas or situations that are often hostile, isolated or ignored, even at the risk of their lives. I acknowledge and appreciate your courageous and steadfast example; in these times of turbulence, shame and pain, you demonstrate that you have joyfully put your lives on the line for the sake of the Gospel.[6]

I am convinced that, to the extent that we remain faithful to God’s will, these present times of ecclesial purification will make us more joyful and humble, and prove, in the not distant future, very fruitful. “Let us not grow discouraged! The Lord is purifying his Bride and converting all of us to himself. He is letting us be put to the test in order to make us realize that without him we are simply dust. He is rescuing us from hypocrisy, from the spirituality of appearances. He is breathing forth his Spirit in order to restore the beauty of his Bride, caught in adultery. We can benefit from rereading the sixteenth chapter of Ezekiel. It is the history of the Church, and each of us can say it is our history too. In the end, through your sense of shame, you will continue to act as a shepherd. Our humble repentance, expressed in silent tears before these atrocious sins and the unfathomable grandeur of God’s forgiveness, is the beginning of a renewal of our holiness”.[7]

GRATITUDE

“I do not cease to give thanks for you” (Eph 1:16).

Vocation, more than our own choice, is a response to the Lord’s unmerited call. We do well to return constantly to those passages of the Gospel where we see Jesus praying, choosing and calling others “to be with him, and to be sent out to proclaim the message” (Mk 3:14).

Here I think of a great master of the priestly life in my own country, Father Lucio Gera. Speaking to a group of priests at a turbulent time in Latin America, he told them: “Always, but especially in times of trial, we need to return to those luminous moments when we experienced the Lord’s call to devote our lives to his service”. I myself like to call this “the Deuteronomic memory of our vocation”; it makes each of us go back “to that blazing light with which God’s grace touched me at the start of the journey. From that flame, I can light a fire for today and every day, and bring heat and light to my brothers and sisters. That flame ignites a humble joy, a joy which sorrow and distress cannot dismay, a good and gentle joy”.[8]

One day, each of us spoke up and said: “yes”, a “yes” born and developed in the heart of the Christian community thanks to those “saints next door”[9] who showed us by their simple faith that it was worthwhile committing ourselves completely to the Lord and his kingdom. A “yes” whose implications were so momentous that often we find it hard to imagine all the goodness that it continues to produce. How beautiful it is when an elderly priest sees or is visited by those children – now adults – whom he baptized long ago and who now gratefully introduce a family of their own! At times like this, we realize that we were anointed to anoint others, and that God’s anointing never disappoints. I am led to say with the Apostle: “I do not cease to give thanks for you” (cf. Eph 1:16) and for all the good that you have done.

Amid trials, weakness and the consciousness of our limitations, “the worst temptation of all is to keep brooding over our troubles”[10] for then we lose our perspective, our good judgment, and our courage. At those times, it is important – I would even say crucial – to cherish the memory of the Lord’s presence in our lives and his merciful gaze, which inspired us to put our lives on the line for him and for his People. And to find the strength to persevere and, with the Psalmist, to raise our own song of praise, “for his mercy endures forever” (Ps 136).

Gratitude is always a powerful weapon. Only if we are able to contemplate and feel genuine gratitude for all those ways we have experienced God’s love, generosity, solidarity, and trust, as well as his forgiveness, patience, forbearance and compassion, will we allow the Spirit to grant us the freshness that can renew (and not simply patch up) our life and mission. Like Peter on the morning of the miraculous draught of fishes, may we let the recognition of all the blessings we have received awaken in us the amazement and gratitude that can enable us to say: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” (Lk 5:8). Only then to hear the Lord repeat his summons: “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be fishers of men” (Lk 5:10). “For his mercy endures forever”.

Dear brother priests, I thank you for your fidelity to the commitments you have made. It is a sign that, in a society and culture that glorifies the ephemeral, there are still people unafraid to make lifelong promises. In effect, we show that we continue to believe in God, who has never broken his covenant, despite our having broken it countless times. In this way, we celebrate the fidelity of God, who continues to trust us, to believe in us and to count on us, for all our sins and failings, and who invites us to be faithful in turn. Realizing that we hold this treasure in earthen vessels (cf. 2 Cor 4:7), we know that the Lord triumphs through weakness (cf. 2 Cor12:9). He continues to sustain us and to renew his call, repaying us a hundredfold (cf. Mk 10:29-30). “For his mercy endures forever”.

Thank you for the joy with which you have offered your lives, revealing a heart that over the years has refused to become closed and bitter, but has grown daily in love for God and his people. A heart that, like good wine, has not turned sour but become richer with age. “For his mercy endures forever”.

Thank you for working to strengthen the bonds of fraternity and friendship with your brother priests and your bishop, providing one another with support and encouragement, caring for those who are ill, seeking out those who keep apart, visiting the elderly and drawing from their wisdom, sharing with one another and learning to laugh and cry together. How much we need this! But thank you too for your faithfulness and perseverance in undertaking difficult missions, or for those times when you have had to call a brother priest to order. “For his mercy endures forever”.

Thank you for your witness of persistence and patient endurance (hypomoné) in pastoral ministry. Often, with the parrhesía of the shepherd,[11] we find ourselves arguing with the Lord in prayer, as Moses did in courageously interceding for the people (cf. Num 14:13-19; Ex 32:30-32; Dt 9:18-21). “For his mercy endures forever”.

Thank you for celebrating the Eucharist each day and for being merciful shepherds in the Sacrament of Reconciliation, neither rigorous nor lax, but deeply concerned for your people and accompanying them on their journey of conversion to the new life that the Lord bestows on us all. We know that on the ladder of mercy we can descend to the depths of our human condition – including weakness and sin – and at the same time experience the heights of divine perfection: “Be merciful as the Father is merciful”.[12] In this way, we are “capable of warming people’s hearts, walking at their side in the dark, talking with them and even entering into their night and their darkness, without losing our way”.[13] “For his mercy endures forever”.

Thank you for anointing and fervently proclaiming to all, “in season and out of season” (cf. 2 Tim 4:2) the Gospel of Jesus Christ, probing the heart of your community “in order to discover where its desire for God is alive and ardent, as well as where that dialogue, once loving, has been thwarted and is now barren”.[14] “For his mercy endures forever”.

Thank you for the times when, with great emotion, you embraced sinners, healed wounds, warmed hearts and showed the tenderness and compassion of the Good Samaritan (cf. Lk 10:25-27). Nothing is more necessary than this: accessibility, closeness, readiness to draw near to the flesh of our suffering brothers and sisters. How powerful is the example of a priest who makes himself present and does not flee the wounds of his brothers and sisters![15] It mirrors the heart of a shepherd who has developed a spiritual taste for being one with his people,[16] a pastor who never forgets that he has come from them and that by serving them he will find and express his most pure and complete identity. This in turn will lead to adopting a simple and austere way of life, rejecting privileges that have nothing to do with the Gospel. “For his mercy endures forever”.

Finally, let us give thanks for the holiness of the faithful People of God, whom we are called to shepherd and through whom the Lord also shepherds and cares for us. He blesses us with the gift of contemplating those faithful People “in those parents who raise their children with immense love, in those men and women who work hard to support their families, in the sick, in elderly religious who never lose their smile. In their daily perseverance, I see the holiness of the Church militant”.[17] Let us be grateful for each of them, and in their witness find support and encouragement. “For his mercy endures forever”.

ENCOURAGEMENT

“I want [your] hearts to be encouraged” (Col 2:2)

My second great desire is, in the words of Saint Paul, to offer encouragement as we strive to renew our priestly spirit, which is above all the fruit of the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives. Faced with painful experiences, all of us need to be comforted and encouraged. The mission to which we are called does not exempt us from suffering, pain and even misunderstanding.[18] Rather, it requires us to face them squarely and to accept them, so that the Lord can transform them and conform us more closely to himself. “Ultimately, the lack of a heartfelt and prayerful acknowledgment of our limitations prevents grace from working more effectively within us, for no room is left for bringing about the potential good that is part of a sincere and genuine journey of growth”.[19]

One good way of testing our hearts as pastors is to ask how we confront suffering. We can often act like the Levite or the priest in the parable, stepping aside and ignoring the injured man (cf. Lk 10:31-32). Or we can draw near in the wrong way, viewing situations in the abstract and taking refuge in commonplaces, such as: “That’s life…”, or “Nothing can be done”. In this way, we yield to an uneasy fatalism. Or else we can draw near with a kind of aloofness that brings only isolation and exclusion. “Like the prophet Jonah, we are constantly tempted to flee to a safe haven. It can have many names: individualism, spiritualism, living in a little world…”[20] Far from making us compassionate, this ends up holding us back from confronting our own wounds, the wounds of others and consequently the wounds of Jesus himself.[21]

Along these same lines, I would mention another subtle and dangerous attitude, which, as Bernanos liked to say, is “the most precious of the devil’s potions”.[22] It is also the most harmful for those of us who would serve the Lord, for it breeds discouragement, desolation, and despair.[23] Disappointment with life, with the Church or with ourselves can tempt us to latch onto a sweet sorrow or sadness that the Eastern Fathers called acedia. Cardinal Tomáš Špidlík described it in these terms: “If we are assailed by sadness at life, at the company of others or at our own isolation, it is because we lack faith in God’s providence and his works… Sadness paralyzes our desire to persevere in our work and prayer; it makes us hard to live with… The monastic authors who treated this vice at length call it the worst enemy of the spiritual life.”[24]

All of us are aware of a sadness that can turn into a habit and lead us slowly to accept evil and injustice by quietly telling us: “It has always been like this”. A sadness that stifles every effort at change and conversion by sowing resentment and hostility. “That is no way to live a dignified and fulfilled life; it is not God’s will for us, nor is it the life of the Spirit, which has its source in the heart of the risen Christ”, to which we have been called.[25] Dear brothers, when that sweet sorrow threatens to take hold of our lives or our communities, without being fearful or troubled, yet with firm resolution, let us together beg the Spirit to “rouse us from our torpor, to free us from our inertia. Let us rethink our usual way of doing things; let us open our eyes and ears, and above all our hearts, so as not to be complacent about things as they are, but unsettled by the living and effective word of the risen Lord”.[26]

Let me repeat: in times of difficulty, we all need God’s consolation and strength, as well as that of our brothers and sisters. All of us can benefit from the touching words that Saint Paul addressed to his communities: “I pray that you may not lose heart over [my] sufferings” (Eph 3:13), and “I want [your] hearts to be encouraged” (Col 2:22). In this way, we can carry out the mission that the Lord gives us anew each day: to proclaim “good news of great joy for all the people” (Lk 2:10). Not by presenting intellectual theories or moral axioms about the way things ought to be, but as men who in the midst of pain have been transformed and transfigured by the Lord and, like Job, can exclaim: “I knew you then only by hearsay, but now I have seen you with my own eyes” (Job 42:2). Without this foundational experience, all of our hard work will only lead to frustration and disappointment.

In our own lives, we have seen how “with Christ, joy is constantly born anew”.[27] Although there are different stages in this experience, we know that, despite our frailties and sins, “with a tenderness which never disappoints, but is always capable of restoring our joy, God makes it possible for us to lift up our heads and start anew”.[28] That joy is not the fruit of our own thoughts or decisions, but of the confidence born of knowing the enduring truth of Jesus’ words to Peter. At times of uncertainty, remember those words: “I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail” (Lk 22:32). The Lord is the first to pray and fight for you and for me. And he invites us to enter fully into his own prayer. There may well be moments when we too have to enter into “the prayer of Gethsemane, that most human and dramatic of Jesus’ prayers… For there we find supplication, sorrow, anguish and even bewilderment (Mk 14:33ff.)”.[29]

We know that it is not easy to stand before the Lord and let his gaze examine our lives, heal our wounded hearts and cleanse our feet of the worldliness accumulated along the way, which now keeps us from moving forward. In prayer, we experience the blessed “insecurity” which reminds us that we are disciples in need of the Lord’s help, and which frees us from the Promethean tendency of “those who ultimately trust only in their own powers and feel superior to others because they observe certain rules”.[30]

Dear brothers, Jesus, more than anyone, is aware of our efforts and our accomplishments, our failures and our mistakes. He is the first to tell us: “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Mt 11:28-29).

In this prayer, we know that we are never alone. The prayer of a pastor embraces both the Spirit who cries out “Abba, Father!” (cf. Gal 4:6), and the people who have been entrusted to his care. Our mission and identity can be defined by this dialectic.

The prayer of a pastor is nourished and made incarnate in the heart of God’s People. It bears the marks of the sufferings and joys of his people, whom he silently presents to the Lord to be anointed by the gift of the Holy Spirit. This is the hope of a pastor, who with trust and insistence asks the Lord to care for our weakness as individuals and as a people. Yet we should also realize that it is in the prayer of God’s People that the heart of a pastor takes flesh and finds its proper place. This sets us free from looking for quick, easy, ready-made answers; it allows the Lord to be the one – not our own recipes and goals – to point out a path of hope. Let us not forget that at the most difficult times in the life of the earliest community, as we read in the Acts of the Apostles, prayer emerged as the true guiding force.

Brothers, let us indeed acknowledge our weaknesses, but also let Jesus transform them and send us forth anew to the mission. Let us never lose the joy of knowing that we are “the sheep of his flock” and that he is our Lord and Shepherd.

For our hearts to be encouraged, we should not neglect the dialectic that determines our identity. First, our relationship with Jesus. Whenever we turn away from Jesus or neglect our relationship with him, slowly but surely our commitment begins to fade and our lamps lose the oil needed to light up our lives (cf. Mt 25:1-13): “Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me… because apart from me you can do nothing” (Jn 15:4-5). In this regard, I would encourage you not to neglect spiritual direction. Look for a brother with whom you can speak, reflect, discuss and discern, sharing with complete trust and openness your journey. A wise brother with whom to share the experience of discipleship. Find him, meet with him and enjoy his guidance, accompaniment, and counsel. This is an indispensable aid to carrying out your ministry in obedience to the will of the Father (cf. Heb 10:9) and letting your heartbeat with “the mind that was in Christ Jesus” (Phil 2:5). We can profit from the words of Ecclesiastes: “Two are better than one… One will lift up the other, but woe to the one who is alone and falls, and does not have another to help!” (4:9-10).

The other essential aspect of this dialectic is our relationship with our people. Foster that relationship and expand it. Do not withdraw from your people, your presbyterates and your communities, much less seek refuge in closed and elitist groups. Ultimately, this stifles and poisons the soul. A minister whose “heart is encouraged” is a minister always on the move. In our “going forth”, we walk “sometimes in front, sometimes in the middle and sometimes behind: in front, in order to guide the community; in the middle, in order to encourage and support, and at the back in order to keep it united, so that no one lags too far behind… There is another reason too: because our people have a “nose” for things. They sniff out, discover, new paths to take; they have the sensus fidei (cf. Lumen Gentium, 12)… What could be more beautiful than this?”[31] Jesus himself is the model of this evangelizing option that leads us to the heart of our people. How good it is for us to see him in his attention to every person! The sacrifice of Jesus on the cross is nothing else but the culmination of that evangelizing style that marked his entire life.

Dear brother priests, the pain of so many victims, the pain of the people of God and our own personal pain, cannot be for naught. Jesus himself has brought this heavy burden to his cross and he now asks us to be renewed in our mission of drawing near to those who suffer, of drawing near without embarrassment to human misery, and indeed to make all these experiences our own, as eucharist.[32] Our age, marked by old and new wounds, requires us to be builders of relationships and communion, open, trusting and awaiting in hope the newness that the kingdom of God wishes to bring about even today. For it is a kingdom of forgiven sinners called to bear witness to the Lord’s ever-present compassion. “For his mercy endures forever”.

PRAISE

“My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord” (Lk 1:46)

How can we speak about gratitude and encouragement without looking to Mary? She, the woman whose heart was pierced (cf. Lk 2:35), teaches us the praise capable of lifting our gaze to the future and restoring hope to the present. Her entire life was contained in her song of praise (cf. Lk 1:46-55). We too are called to sing that song as a promise of future fulfillment.

Whenever I visit a Marian shrine, I like to spend time looking at the Blessed Mother and letting her look at me. I pray for a childlike trust, the trust of the poor and simple who know that their mother is there and that they have a place in her heart. And in looking at her, to hear once more, like the Indian Juan Diego: “My youngest son, what is the matter? Do not let it disturb your heart. Am I not here, I who have the honor to be your mother?”[33]

To contemplate Mary is “to believe once again in the revolutionary nature of love and tenderness. In her, we see that humility and tenderness are not virtues of the weak but of the strong, who need not treat others poorly in order to feel important themselves”.[34]

Perhaps at times, our gaze can begin to harden, or we can feel that the seductive power of apathy or self-pity is about to take root in our heart. Or our sense of being a living and integral part of God’s People begins to weary us, and we feel tempted to a certain elitism. At those times, let us not be afraid to turn to Mary and to take up her song of praise.

Perhaps at times we can feel tempted to withdraw into ourselves and our own affairs, safe from the dusty paths of daily life. Or regrets, complaints, criticism and sarcasm gain the upper hand and make us lose our desire to keep fighting, hoping and loving. At those times, let us look to Mary so that she can free our gaze of all the “clutter” that prevents us from being attentive and alert, and thus capable of seeing and celebrating Christ alive in the midst of his people. And if we see that we are going astray, or that we are failing in our attempts at conversion, then let us turn to her like a great parish priest from my previous diocese, who was also a poet. He asked her, with something of a smile: “This evening, dear Lady /my promise is sincere; /but just to be sure, don’t forget / to leave the key outside the door”.[35] Our Lady “is the friend who is ever concerned that wine not be lacking in our lives. She is the woman whose heart was pierced by a sword and who understands all our pain. As mother of all, she is a sign of hope for peoples suffering the birth pangs of justice… As a true mother, she walks at our side, she shares our struggles and she constantly surrounds us with God’s love”.[36]

Dear brothers, once more, “I do not cease to give thanks for you” (Eph 1:16), for your commitment and your ministry. For I am confident that “God takes away even the hardest stones against which our hopes and expectations crash: death, sin, fear, worldliness. Human history does not end before a tombstone, because today it encounters the “living stone” (cf. 1 Pet 2:4), the risen Jesus. We, as Church, are built on him, and, even when we grow disheartened and tempted to judge everything in the light of our failures, he comes to make all things new”.[37]

May we allow our gratitude to awaken praise and renewed enthusiasm for our ministry of anointing our brothers and sisters with hope. May we be men whose lives bear witness to the compassion and mercy that Jesus alone can bestow on us.

May the Lord Jesus bless you and the Holy Virgin watch over you. And please, I ask you not to forget to pray for me.

Fraternally,

FRANCIS

Rome, at Saint John Lateran, on 4 August 2019,

Memorial of the Holy Curé of Ars

[1] Cf. Apostolic Letter Anno Iubilari (23 April 1929): AAS 21 (1929), 312-313.

[2] Address to the Italian Bishops’ Conference (20 May 2019). Spiritual fatherhood requires a bishop not to leave his priests as orphans; it can be felt not only in his readiness to open his doors to priests, but also to seek them out in order to care for them and to accompany them.

[3] Cf. SAINT JOHN XXIII, Encyclical Letter Sacerdotii Nostri Primordia on the hundredth anniversary of the death of the holy Curé of Ars (1 August 1959): AAS (51 (1959), 548.

[4] Cf. Letter to the People of God (20 August 2018).

[5] Meeting with Priests, Religious, Consecrated Persons and Seminarians, Santiago de Chile (16 January 2018).

[6] Cf. Letter to the Pilgrim People of God in Chile (31 May 2018).

[7] Meeting with the Priests of the Diocese of Rome (7 March 2019).

[8] Homily at the Easter Vigil (19 April 2014).

[9] Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate, 7.

[10] Cf. JORGE MARIO BERGOGLIO, Las cartas de la tribulación (Herder, 2019), 21.

[11] Cf. Address to the Parish Priests of Rome (6 March 2014).

[12] Retreat to Priests. First Meditation (2 June 2016).

[13] A. SPADARO, Interview with Pope Francis, in La Civiltà Cattolica 3918 (19 September 2013), p. 462.

[14] Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 137.

[15] Cf. Address to the Parish Priests of Rome (6 March 2014).

[16] Cf. Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 268.

[17] Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate, 7.

[18] Cf. Apostolic Letter Misericordia et Misera, 13.

[19] Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate, 50.

[20] Ibid., 134.

[21] Cf. JORGE MARIO BERGOGLIO, Reflexiones en esperanza (Vatican City, 2013), p. 14.

[22] Journal d’un curé de campagne (Paris, 1974), p. 135; cf. Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 83.

[23] Cf. BARSANUPH OF GAZA, Letters, in VITO CUTRO – MICHAŁ TADEUSZ SZWEMIN, Bisogno di paternità (Warsaw, 2018), p. 124.

[24] L’arte di purificare il cuore, Rome, 1999, p. 47.

[25] Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 2.

[26] Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate, 137.

[27] Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 1.

[28] Ibid., 3.

[29] JORGE MARIO BERGOGLIO, Reflexiones en esperanza (Vatican City, 2013), p. 26.

[30] Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 94.

[31] Meeting with Clergy, Consecrated Persons and Members of Pastoral Councils, Assisi (4 October 2013).

[32] Cf. Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 268-270.

[33] Cf. Nican Mopohua, 107, 118, 119.

[34] Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 288.

[35] Cf. AMELIO LUIS CALORI, Aula Fúlgida, Buenos Aires, 1946.

[36] Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 286.

[37] Homily at the Easter Vigil (20 April 2019).

© Libreria Editrice Vatican

4th AUGUST 2019 15:19FRANCIS

[davidfostercomedyblog]

Dear CVS... An Open Letter to Preserve NYC

Dear Mr. Merlo,

As you are probably aware, much has been made in recent years about the rapid gentrification, development and commercialization of New York City, and the divide between citizens’ perspective on it, not unlike that of the political state of our country. While one side chalks it up to clichés such as “the only constant being change” and “money talks,” the other might be guilty of stubbornly clinging on to a romanticized nostalgia being perpetually filtered through life’s hourglass, and there’s nothing we can do about it… maybe.

 I don’t know you from Adam, but I’ll presume you’re good people, as I’ve never heard anything to the contrary, and most people are (relatively good). One of the most important lessons I’ve learned in adulthood is maintaining awareness that the foundation of many conflicts is not necessarily good versus evil, but instead the clashing of differing priorities as they intersect over a particular environment. I recently spent a few years in L.A., and nobody told me when I came back that the next time I got off the D train at Broadway Lafayette for the first time in my life I wouldn’t see Soho Billiards, but instead a block long rendition of your store. Having been born in New York in 1978 I’ve seen the city change a lot, in many ways for the better. Fully aware that my bias errs more towards the side of nostalgia, I’ve been mindful to question: Where is the tipping point? Where is the line between totally understandable expansion of successful business and pathological takeover that results in a tangible dilution of the culture?

 For me it was at Soho Billiards.

 Ironically, I’ve never actually been inside of Soho Billiards. In adolescence my friends and I used to hang out at one pool hall in Chelsea and another, long since defunct, Le Q, that was on E. 12th St. But I’ve walked by Soho a million times, on my way home at night, on my way out, always enjoying one of New Yorkers’ favorite pastimes of people watching, playfully prejudging, occasionally pausing to gawk at some girl in there on a date with her boyfriend, attempting to diagnose the many dynamics at play, no pun intended. Albeit pedestrian-sounding, literally, and void of fiscal value, it is settings and daily experiences like these that make New York, New York, and make living here special. Now when I walk by there I see people just passing through to purchase generic products and fill prescriptions. Another historic site of social congregation centered around a cultural activity replaced by a cookie cutter site of commerce - just like the one a few blocks up from it, and the other a few blocks up from there.

 New Yorkers take great pride, for better or worse, in the fact that cultural staples everywhere else are irrelevant here, and vice versa. In exchange for this uniqueness we pay astronomical rents and sleep in close quarters, working harder than most for an objectively lower quality of life. For many of us it’s because we’re from here. Our family is here and we’ve “no choice” but to stay. For others it’s because their families are not here and this is enough to offer them sanctuary. All jokes aside, when someone feels compelled to live in New York it really isn’t a choice, but more similar to the experience of falling madly in love, and no matter how crazy or bad things get, we can’t imagine life without her, as she is so unlike the other 49 girls we’ve met.

 I don’t fault you for your expansion. I understand the human condition and the instinct for stability via resources, which equates more with good, and I can’t know whether I wouldn’t be doing the same thing in your position.  I also cannot tell you to stop, as who am I but some guy whose opinion is not even necessarily shared by enough others to matter at all (it is shared, but probably still doesn’t matter)? Instead, I would request that you consider being more mindful of what it is you’re replacing in your next hypothetical location. I write not just with the interest of maintaining mom and pop stores, but maintaining the cultural identity of our special home. New York thrives on its distinction and diversity, not only in the citizens, but in commerce and scenery as well. Should every block transform from Korean grocery stores, Cuban restaurants and Italian delis to 7-11’s, Starbucks and CVS, New York will cease to be “New York,” which would logically, eventually impact finance as well, and then we all lose.

 In a vacuum, successful chains are wonderful… until every store is a chain and another key ingredient to the world’s most famous melting pot is lost. New York is sadly shifting from a place that has rich neighborhoods to one that is a rich neighborhood – a place that originally blossomed via the mantra: “Give us your sick, your hungry, your poor,” to one that now requests: “Give us your wealthiest, and we’ll kick the poor out the door, tear down their floor, and give you much more.”

 In closing, I ask that you please either stop building more stores here or at least consider donating money towards helping lower income families remain in the neighborhoods that they helped build, which indirectly made our city into the hub so apparently worthy of your ubiquitous presence. We natives can concede our priority bias towards cultural definition. Can you concede yours towards financial gain? I hope that there must be some potential for compromise here.

 I thank you for taking the time to read and appreciate your consideration.

 Sincerely,

[pope-francis-quotes]

29th January >> Pope Francis' Address before and after the Angelus in St. Peter's Square, Vatican.

(Present at the Angelus today, among others, were the youngsters of Catholic Action of the diocese of Rome (CAR) who, with the “Caravan of Peace” concluded the month of January, traditionally dedicated by them to the theme of peace. At the end of the Angelus prayer, two children, a boy and a girl, invited to the Papal Apartment, read a message in the name of CAR of Rome.) Below, please find an English translation of the address Pope Francis gave today before and after praying the midday Angelus with those gathered in St. Peter’s Square: Before the Angelus: Dear brothers and sisters, good morning! This Sunday’s liturgy has us meditate on the Beatitudes (cf. Matthew 5:1-12a), which open the great address called “of the mountain,” the Magna Carta” of the New Testament. Jesus manifests God’s will to lead men to happiness. This message was already present in the preaching of the prophets: God is close to the poor and the oppressed and He delivers them from those who mistreat them. However, in this preaching Jesus follows a particular path: He begins with the term “Blessed,” happy. He continues with the indication of the condition to be so and He concludes by making a promise. The motive for beatitude, namely for happiness, is not in the condition requested — for instance, “poor in spirit,” “mourn,” “hunger for righteousness,” “persecuted” … but in the subsequent promise, to be received with faith as gift of God. One begins from the condition of hardship to open oneself to God’s gift and enter the new world, the “Kingdom” proclaimed by Jesus. This is not an automatic mechanism, but a way of life following the Lord, so that the reality of hardship and affliction is seen in a new perspective and experienced according to the conversion undertaken. One is not blessed if one is not converted, able to appreciate and live God’s gifts. I will pause on the first beatitude: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven” (v. 4). He is poor in spirit who has assumed the sentiments and the attitude of those poor, who do not rebel in their condition, but are able to be humble, docile, open to the grace of God. The happiness of the poor — of the poor in spirit — has a twofold dimension: in relation to goods and in relation to God. In regard to goods, to material goods, this poverty in spirit is sobriety: not necessarily renunciation, but the capacity to enjoy the essential, to share; the capacity to renew every day the wonder of the goodness of things, without being weighed down in the opacity of voracious consumption. The more I have, the more I want; the more I have, the more I want: this is voracious consumption. And this kills the soul. And the man and woman who do this, who have this attitude “the more I have, the more I want,” are not happy and will not attain happiness. ”In relations with God, it is praise and gratitude that the world is a blessing and that at its origin is the creative love of the Father. But it is also openness to Him, docility to His lordship: He is the Lord; He is the Great One. I am not great because I have many things! He is: He who willed the world for all men and wanted it so that men would be happy. A poor one in spirit is a Christian who does not trust in himself, in his material riches, who is not obstinate in his opinions but listens with respect and disposes himself willingly to others’ decisions. If there were more poor in spirit in our communities, there would be fewer divisions, oppositions and controversies! Humility, like charity, is an essential virtue for coexistence in Christian communities. The poor, in this evangelical sense, appear as those that keep alive the goal of the Kingdom of Heaven, making one perceive that it is anticipated in germ in a fraternal community, which prefers sharing to possession. I would like to stress this: to prefer sharing to possession. To always have an open heart and hands (he makes the gesture), not closed (he makes the gesture). When the heart is closed (he makes the gesture) it is a narrow: it does not even know how to love. When the heart is open (he makes the gesture), it goes on the way of love. May the Virgin Mary, model and first fruit of the poor in spirit because totally docile to the Lord’s will, help us to abandon ourselves to God, rich in mercy, so that He will fill us with His gifts, especially the abundance of His forgiveness. * After the Angelus Dear brothers and sisters, as you see, the invaders have arrived … they are here! Celebrated today is World Leprosy Day. This sickness, though regressing, is still among the most feared and it strikes the poorest and marginalized. It is important to fight against this disease, but also against the discriminations it engenders. I encourage all those who are committed in the rescue and social reinsertion of persons stricken by Hansen’s disease, to whom we assure our prayer. I greet you all affectionately, who have come from different parishes of Italy and of other countries, as well as the Associations and Groups. In particular, I greet the students of Murcia and Badajoz, the young people of Bilbao and the faithful of Castellon. I greet the pilgrims of Reggio Calabria, Castelliri, and the Sicilian group of the National Association of Parents. I would also like to renew my closeness to the populations of Central Italy that are still suffering the consequences of the earthquake and of difficult atmospheric conditions. May these brothers and sisters of ours not lack the constant support of institutions and common solidarity. And please, may no type of bureaucracy make them wait and suffer further! Now I turn to you, boys and girls of Catholic Action, of the parishes and Catholic schools of Rome. Accompanied by the Cardinal Vicar, this year also you have come at the end of the “Caravan of Peace,” whose slogan is Surrounded by Peace: a beautiful slogan Thank you for your presence and for your generous commitment in building a society of peace. Now, we will all listen to the message that your friends, beside me here, will read to us. [Reading of the message] And now the balloons are released, symbol of peace, symbol of peace … I wish you all a good Sunday. I wish you peace, humility, sharing in your families. Please, do not forget to pray for me. Have a good lunch and see you soon! [Original text: Italian]

[pope-francis-quotes]

17th February >> Pope Francis’ prepared script for his visit to Roma Tre University this morning.

Below is the Vatican-provided translation of Pope Francis’ prepared script for his visit to Roma Tre University this morning. This text, described by the Pope as his ‘well-thought’ remarks, was handed out to those present as he decided to speak off the cuff. When the Pope’s improvised remarks are made available, ZENIT will bring you a translation as soon as possible: * * * The Holy Father’s Address Lord Rector, Distinguished Docents, Dear Students and Staff Members, I thank you for inviting me to visit this University, the youngest of Rome, and I give my warm greeting to you all. I thank the Rector, Professor Mario Panizza, for his words of welcome, and I wish you every good for the work and mission of this Athenaeum. The academic instruction and formation of the new generations is a primary exigency for the life and development of society. I have listened to your questions, for which I am grateful; I read them beforehand and I will seek to give answers taking my experience also into account. Our society is rich in goods, in actions of solidarity and of love in relations with our neighbor: so many people and so many young people, certainly among you, are committed in volunteer work and in activities at the service of the neediest. And this is one of the greatest values of which to be grateful and proud. However, if we look around us, we see that there are many, too many signs of enmity and violence in the world. As Giulia rightly observed, there are many signs present of “violent action.” I thank you, Giulia, because the Message for this year’s World Day of Peace proposes, in fact, non-violence as style of life and of political action. In fact, we are living a piecemeal world war: there are conflicts in many regions of the planet, which threaten the future of entire generations. How is it that the International Community, with its organizations, is unable to impede or to stop all this? Do economic and strategic interests have more weight than the common interest for peace? These are certainly questions that find a place in Universities’ classrooms, and they resound first of all in our consciences. See: the University is a privileged place in which consciences are formed, in a heated debate between the exigencies of the good, of the true and of the beautiful, and the reality with its contradictions. A concrete example? The arms industry. For decades there has been talk of disarmament, important processes in this connection have even been implemented but, unfortunately, despite all the speeches and commitments, many countries today are increasing their expenses for armaments. And this — in a world that is still fighting against hunger and sicknesses –, is a scandalous contradiction. In face of this dramatic reality, you rightly ask, “What must be our answer? –certainly not an attitude of discouragement and mistrust. You young people, in particular, cannot permit yourselves to be without hope; hope is part of yourselves. When hope is lacking life in fact is lacking, and then some go in search of a deceitful existence that is offered by merchants of nothing. They sell things that bring momentary and apparent happiness, but in reality they introduce a way without exit, without future, true existential labyrinths. Bombs destroy bodies; drugs destroy minds, souls and also bodies. And here I give you another concrete example of present-day contradiction: the gambling industry. Universities can give a valid contribution of study to prevent and oppose gambling addiction, which causes grave harm to people and families, with high social costs. An answer that I would like to suggest to you — and I have present Niccolo’s question — is that of committing yourselves, also as a university, in projects of sharing and of service to the least, to have grow in our city of Rome the sense of belonging to a “common homeland.” Many social urgencies and many situations of hardship and poverty interpellate us: we think of persons that live on the street, of migrants, of all those that need not only food and clothes, but insertion in society as, for example, those who come out of prison. By coming to meet these social poverties, we are rendered protagonists of constructive actions which oppose the destructive <actions> of violent conflicts, and which also oppose the culture of hedonism and waste, based on the idols of money, of pleasure, of appearing … Instead, by working with projects, also small ones, which foster encounter and solidarity, a sense of trust is recovered at the same time. In every environment, especially in that of the University, it is important to read and address this change of epoch with reflection and discernment, that is, without ideological prejudices, without fear or flights. Every change, including the present one, is a passage that brings with it difficulties, toil and sufferings, but it also brings new horizons of goodness. Great changes call for re-thinking our economic, cultural and social models, to recover the central value of the human person. In the third question, Riccardo made reference to the “information that in a globalized world is spread especially by the social networks. In this very complex ambit, it seems to me necessary to engage in healthy discernment, on the basis of ethical and spiritual criteria. It is necessary, that is, to question oneself on what is good, making reference to values proper of a vision of man and of the world, a vision of the person in all his dimensions, especially in the transcendent. And, speaking of transcendence, I would like to speak to you as person-to-person, and give witness of who I am. I profess myself Christian and the transcendence to which I open myself and look at has a name: Jesus. I am convinced that His Gospel is a force of true personal and social renewal. Speaking thus, I do not propose to you illusions or philosophical or ideological theories, nor do I wish to engage in proselytism. I am speaking to you of a Person who came to meet me when I was more or less your age, who opened horizons for me and changed my life. This Person can fill our heart with joy and our life with meaning. He is my fellow traveller; He does not disappoint and does not betray. He is always with us. He puts Himself with respect and discretion along our life’s path, above all, He supports us in the hour of loss and defeat, in the moment of weakness and sin, to always put us back on the way. This is the personal testimony of my life. Do not be afraid to open yourselves to the horizons of the spirit, and if you receive the gift of faith – because faith is a gift – do not be afraid to open yourselves to the encounter with Christ and to deepen your relationship with Him. Faith never limits the ambit of reason, but opens it to an integral vision of man and of reality, preserving one from the danger of reducing the person to “human material.” Difficulties do not disappear with Jesus, but they are addressed in a different way, without fear, without lying to oneself and to others; they are addressed with the light and strength that come from Him. And, as Riccardo said, you can become “operators of intellectual charity,” starting with the University itself, so that it is a place of formation to “wisdom” in the fullest sense of the term, of the integral education of the person. In this perspective the University offers its peculiar and indispensable contribution to the renewal of society. And the university can also be a place in which the culture of encounter and the reception of people of different cultural and religious traditions is elaborated. Nour, who comes from Syria, made reference to the “fear” of the Westerner in relations with a foreigner in as much as it might “threaten Europe’s Christian culture.” Apart from the fact that the first threat to Europe’s Christian culture comes, in fact, from within Europe, the closing of oneself in oneself or in one’s culture is never the way to give back hope and to bring about a social and cultural renewal. A culture is consolidated in openness to and encounter with other cultures, so that it has a clear and mature awareness of its own principles and values. Therefore, I encourage docents and students to live the University as an environment of true dialogue, which does not level the differences or exasperate them, but is open to constructive confrontation. We are called to understand and appreciate the other’s values, overcoming the temptations of indifference and of fear. Do not be afraid of encounter, of dialogue, of confrontation. While you carry forward your course of teaching and study in the university, try to ask yourselves: is my forma mentis becoming more individualistic or more supportive? If it is more supportive, it is a good sign, because you will go against the current but in the only direction that has a future and that gives future. Solidarity, not proclaimed in words but lived concretely, generates peace and hope for every country and for the whole world. And you, by the fact of working and studying in the University, have the responsibility to leave a good mark in history. I thank you from my heart for this meeting and for your attention. May hope be the light that always illumines your study and your commitment. I invoke upon each one of you and upon your families the Lord’s blessing. [Original text: Italian] [Translation by Virginia M. Forrester]