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deliciousangelfestival · 4 years ago

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Wicked Romance

Chapter 1

Character: Mob!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her.

Warning: Maybe bad writing? Hehehe forgive me. This is my first time write and posting my own fan fiction on tumblr.

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If an outsider sees Steve, he got everything: looks, money, status. But for him, he lacks one thing; the right person to stand beside him.

But let’s talk about how Steve became the new mob leader.

Steve got raised by his mother Sarah Rogers, it was until he retired from the military he reconnected with his father again.

He thought his father, Joseph Rogers owns a security firm every time he visits him when he was a kid after his parents divorced. Until he reaches a certain age he realized his father actually is a mob boss. He found his childhood friend Bucky, they went to the army together, also working with his father after he got into an accident that cost his left arm.

He owes it to his father, but Joseph doesn’t need his son to pay his debt. He only wanted his son to stay with him. Joseph has everything, but he missing two things; his lovely wife and his son.

Joseph loves Sarah, but he forgot she doesn’t come from a mobster background. When they got married, she was overwhelmed. Looking at her husband coming home with blood on his hands or they need to stay at the safe house when she was 8 months pregnant and when Steve was baby the rival gang tried to hurt her and their son.

Sarah admitted to Joseph that she couldn’t live like this. In the end, she asks to separated but they never divorced. Joseph never sends the document to the court.

When Joseph retired, he decided to be honest. He went to chase his wife again. With a lot of effort the couple reunited again.

Their love story was so sweet that could make Steve’s teeth hurt. Joseph appointed Steve as the new leader while he enjoys his second honeymoon with his wife.

It’s been 5 years since Steve became the new mob boss, now he’s waiting for the one that could help him write a sweet story like his parents.

Right now around lunchtime at the fancy that owned by Rogers. Steve and others like Bucky and Sam are sitting at the bar. While Pietro is the bartender serving their drinks.

It's a usual day for them but it's a little bit different with Steve this time.

Steve head not looking at his food because notices someone seating near the window. She wearing a dress, not too sexy but he could see her legs. She is completely different from a woman who dressed less to get his attention. The reason is simple Steve is an attractive man, tall, broad shoulder, the expensive three-piece suit that wraps his muscles. He only sits for 3 minutes, few girls try to seduce him but he politely or in a sarcastic way to shoo them.

And the girl who he watched for a while won’t budge to turned around. It poked his ego a little bit. He quite used to with the flirt and attention.

“You still staring at her.”

Bucky’s words made Steve snap up from his trance.

Steve shook his head, he couldn’t help it because he wants to see the woman face who sitting alone.

“Pfft.”

Someone who holds his laughter. Three of them turn their gaze towards the bartender served their drink.

“Something funny Pietro?” Steve raised his eyebrows.

“I’m just surprised my boss lose his game before approaching Miss Lilly.”

Steve tilts his head “You knew her name?”

Pietro nodded while whipping the glass with cloth “Yup, the gorgeous lady that always left a big tip.”

“She has become a regular?” Sam asks surprised.

“Perhaps, it’s difficult to forget her since the first time she came here.” Pietro is a sucker for a beautiful woman.

He put the clean glass on the shelf “The day she came here also the first day Peter Peter start his job.”

The alpha male grunted when Parker’s name mentioned. That kid is troublesome. He always late for his job and clumsy, but he’s the best chef assistant according to Wanda who the head chef at the restaurant.

“So she’s been our customer for 5 months. How come we never notice her?” Sam whispered asking. They always come here every day for lunch and dinner.

Pietro raised his shoulder “Usually she only stays for 10 minutes after buying one drink. Then she left. This is the first time she asks for a table.”

After hearing the info from Pietro, Steve looking at her back once again.

“Steve, if you don’t talk to her I will,” Sam said while moving from his seat.

Steve stop Sam by grabbing his shoulder “I didn’t say I don’t want to.”

“Go get her punk.” Bucky raised his fist.

Steve nodded, he walks closer towards her table, he doesn’t understand why his heart beating so fast.

He already in his game, using his usual pick-up line and smile, but before his foot stops at her table, she turns her head towards him.

It felt like a slow-motion when he saw her looking at him.

The first moment he looked at her eyes, somehow the time stop and world in only both of them.

She looks at him with a friendly smile. ‘Her eyes,’ he couldn’t look away.

“Hi…” He couldn’t believe he almost squeaked his voice. Steve could feel his face turn red like tomatoes. How he wishes, the situation could change.

‘BANG’

The loud sound came from the gun sound. The door abruptly opened by a bunch of guys who wear suits, some of them holding guns, and baseball bat, and the one who leads them is Brock Rumlow.

Steve cursed, because of the annoying newcomer, he already lost the moment with her. But partly he blamed himself, earlier he wished to change the situation. Be careful what you wished for.

It must be his rival gang who crash his business again. This is the third time in one month. Since Brock became the new head after Pierce died.

“Damn it.” He saw Bucky and Sam already start kicking and punching.

He turned at her, he looks at her with puppy eyes “Forgive me for today’s distraction. You don’t have to pay. It’s free.”

Before she could reply, one guy holding a baseball bat, and swing at Steve but he able to stop it.

“Everyone leave this place !!!” He screamed his lungs out to alarm the guest who still shocked. All of them ran to save their lives.

Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Pietro busy fighting their rival.

No wonder why he had bad feelings, today seems nothing could go wrong. He knew something bad will happen. Turn out it’s Rumlow.

“What do you want Rumlow?” Steve hissed at the uninvited guest.

Brock shrugged his shoulder “Oh nothing, I just want to say hi to my rival, since I became the boss now.”

‘Because of that reason?’ Steve inwardly thought. But he knew why Rumlow did this, he want everyone to know his name since he recently got this position. And this bastard choose his place at the wrong time and the wrong place.

Both of them punches at each other and destroyed the furniture.

Brock always sneaky, he prepares a hidden knife under his sleeves aka phantom blade.

He succeeded stab Steve’s shoulder.

“Urgh.” But because of his muscles, it didn’t go that deep.

Brock brings Steve to his shoulder and throws him to the ground.

Steve landed on the ground while Brock put on a mocking smile looking down at him.

“Boys~”

The seductive voice made both of them turn to see who it was.

Steve widened his eyes when he saw the girl who took his breath away standing in front of them.

When she stood, he could see she’s wearing a skirt that has a high cut on her left thigh. Steve and Brock were taken aback because under the fabric there’s a belt dagger.

She slightly pouted which made Steve thought for a second she looks adorable. But what the hell is she doing here when he already told everyone to leave this place.

She put her right hand on her left chest “It breaks my heart seeing my favorite restaurant destroyed like this.”

Steve somehow felt happy when he knew she like his work.

She grabs the dagger and throws it to Steve.

“I’m lending it to you.” She winked at him, and turn around to grab her coat. She headed to the exit door, easily avoided the fight.

“That’s one hot lady right there.”

“Yeah, she is.” Steve took the chance to give a butthead towards Brock. He doesn’t want this jerk to look at his ‘future date’.

Brock screamed while holding his broken nose “That’s was low, I was distracted.”

“Let’s get this over with. I can’t do this all day.” Steve finally let out his rage towards Rumlow.

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Their fight is done with the result Steve side who won.

“I’ll get you next time,” Brock screamed angrily, his fingers broken by Steve. He got carried by the paramedic.

Steve wiped his bloody nose with a cloth while Bruce pressing his shoulder “Yeah yeah, just not in this place again.” He answered lazily.

He sighed because he’s getting tired of Rumlow childish fight. After his wound got treated by Bruce, Steve went back into the restaurant.

What he saw is a broken window, table, the custom leather chair that imported from Italy also ruined. There will be one person who will be crazy over this, Natasha who also his accountant, and Bucky’s wife.

His shoes step on the broken glass, his eyes locking to the table where she sat.

When he arrived he saw the book she read. Steve notice there is a bookmark inside of it. He doesn’t want to touch her touch without permission but he eager wants to see what inside.

Steve put his hand on his mouth and gasped “Oh f**k!”

“Language you punk!” Bucky and Sam appear from behind. Their face and hands also bruised because of the short fight.

“What’s wrong?”

They got no answer from Steve. He look like a statue still looking at his hands.

Bucky and Sam glanced at the bookmark on Steve’s hand. Both of them smirked.

’When the restaurant re-open, text me: (646)-xxxxxxxx’

Steve’s mind went back to the first time he saw her face and that beautiful smile, then the way she’s not afraid of the craziness that happens today, and she lent him a dagger so he can win.

He didn’t think it wasn’t a thing, but it happened to him.

He fell in love at the first sight.

“We totally lose him.” Sam waves his hand in front of Steve’s eyes.

They could see Steve on cloud nine right now.

“Good for him, maybe he could move on this time,” Bucky murmured.

Sam pointed one critical point “But first of all, we need to tell your wife about today.”

Bucky sighed “That’s the difficult part.”

While his friends busy thinking about how to coaxing Natasha so she won’t stun them with the lecture that could last for the whole day and make their ear hurts, Steve is planning how to renovate the restaurant fast so he could text her.

>>>CHAPTER 2

Taglist:

@cloudystevie

#mob!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes #sam wilson #pietro maximov #peter parker #cs4kwritingchallenge #marvel au #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine

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pars-ley · 4 years ago

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Your eyes tell

Pairing: Prince Jungkook x Female Reader

Summary: When your best friend’s a prince and inherits the throne, he needs to find a wife to rule alongside him as Queen, you’re more than happy to help him choose an eligible bachelorette. But what happens when you, who only wants to marry for love, are forced to be one of the participants?

Rating: (SFW) 13+

Genre: Royal au / Arranged marriage au / Angst / Fluff / Unrequited love

Word Count: 6400

Warnings: Serious angst. It will make you sick.

Prompts: Everything makes sense when you’re by my side. + I didn’t believe in love, not until I met you.

A/N: This is for the Golden Closet Network’s ‘Jungkook Birthday Project’ I stepped out of my comfort zone for this one, so hopefully it paid off. It’s from their two different perspectives. Italic font is Jungkook, normal font is reader. A big shout and a hell of a lot of thanks to @wheresmymoniat for helping me endlessly, especially through some serious writers block with the ending. She’s a darling.

Banner: @yeojaa honestly, she’s a goddess who went above and beyond to help me with this when I was struggling and offered out of the kindness of her heart, she also made the break lines for me cause she’s the BEST💕😘!

Beta reader: @papillonsgf 😘

Meet Prince Jungkook...

As you hear the announcement escape his mouth, like a 'breaking news' headline silently screaming at you from behind bold, black print, all you can do is stare. The calmness in his voice, unmatched to his words echoing around in your mind, bouncing off the emptiness that has overcome you.

Your eyes sweep over him, the dark circles hanging heavy under his eyes, the exhaustion etched in his handsome face and the anxiety that rolls off him in waves.

A pain in your chest pulls at your emotions, a direct line to your heart just for him. Your body flung itself at him before you had time to register the action.

His arms curl around your waist, squeezing you, keeping you locked in place. His fingers digging into your back, making your anxiety for him creep up into your throat. You try to swallow it down, wanting to be strong for him but your mouth is suddenly without moisture

Your best friend is going to be King of Kalinia, that much you knew and that’s what is expected of a Prince but not now, not yet.

All you can do is stand there, unmoving while he relays the details of his father's illness and his decision to step down from the throne. Meaning, all of it falling onto Jungkook’s shoulders.

How could he bear all that weight on his own? Any normal man would crumble.

However, he is not any normal man, he is strong, determined, loyal, generous and one of the kindest men you know. But seeing him now, a shadow of all you know he is, you want to take it all away and harbour the load yourself, just to give him his freedom a little bit longer.

The studying and travelling he’s been doing, all that now comes to an immediate halt, just as he had started to live his own life, it all comes crashing down around him.

It’s your job to pick up the pieces and you’re more than happy to assume that role but it also means that your plans for travelling would have to be put on hold too.

Your arrangement had been to meet Jungkook in Italy and travel around Europe together over the course of 2 months before returning to continue studies, but the idea of visiting these places alone, without him by your side, now seems a lot less appealing.

His slightly painful grip on your back, fingernails desperately digging in to provide some kind of anchorage for him, pulls you back into the present.

"Hey," you lean away so you can cradle his face in your hands. "It's just me right now, you can be honest. You don't have to pretend with me."

His wide eyes seem to tremble as they meet yours. "I just wasn't expecting this so soon." His voice interrupts the silence, slicing through it like a knife straight into your gut at his words. “I don't feel...ready for this. I thought I’d have more time to prepare and now, I have to find a wife. A WIFE!”

The sorrow and anguish that fill his eyes overwhelm you with a heaviness in your chest, your pumping organ sinking like a rock to the pit of your stomach. But your mind is frozen, stuck on those last words you hear them rattling, echoing around in your mind, crashing against any thoughts you had like giant waves against rock. Wife? WIFE!

The ascending King cannot rule without a Queen by his side. That is the law of your country and the way it’s always been. You knew this, so why do you feel this way? How exactly do you feel? Sick. Panicked. Sombre. All of the above maybe? You just feel for the hardships that your friend is facing, that’s all it is, you tell yourself.

“I know, I know this has come as a shock but let me tell you, you’re meant to be King and you’re ready, even if you don’t feel like it. I have complete faith in you, Kook and I’ll be here every step of the way. I’ll even help you choose the right...wife.” You hesitate slightly, the words tasting like ash in your mouth.

He pulls you to him again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Well, after he’s married and King, he’ll have to do without you. There'll be someone new to take care of him and do all the things you do together; to comfort him like this, to spend evenings star gazing and staring at the moon, to pick flowers in the Queen’s garden and have secret picnics in the meadows off grounds.

All of these moments with him won’t exist anymore.

You feel empty at the thought. Almost as if someone reached inside and stole the most vital parts of you and put them on display behind an inaccessible, glass cage to watch beating and working without you.

As you cling to him, fingers gripped in his hair, cheek resting atop of his head, cradling him like your most precious possession, a tear escapes.

Your friend is slipping through your fingers, down into the depths of a world you won’t be able to follow and there's nothing you can do to stop it. You will lose him, that much you are sure of.

You glance over, her expression a smooth and flawless mask, never giving anything away. But you know her well enough to know that something has changed. She has not been the same since you revealed the news of your new-to-be title three weeks ago.

Her usual brilliant, almost blinding light had dimmed into a burnt out candle, flickering on the last threads of its wick. No matter what you say to her she just smiles and says ‘I’m fine’. You might be clueless but you are determined to discover what’s changed.

As you sit here, discussing who, out of the fourteen eligible bachelorettes in the Kingdom, is most suited for being your future wife and Queen, you can’t help but find yourself thinking of only one.

The one you wish you could have, the one you’d give anything to spend the rest of your days with but is the one who would never see you in such a way.

As she sits across from you, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her delicate fingers tracing down her neck. God, how you longed for it to be you caressing her so tenderly, to be able to hold her and tell her what she means to you, to have her by your side instead of these paper faces staring up at you waiting for paper rings. All of them from good families, smart, pretty, the perfect persona for the outside world to see but completely and utterly tedious to you. There wasn’t a single thing written in this bleak print that held your interest even a fraction of the way y/n could.

“Your majesty?” An indistinct voice snaps you out of your trance.

Her eyes flash up to meet yours and you look away quickly, hoping no one has noticed your forlorn stare at the true object of your affection.

“Yes?” You reply, trying to seem present in the room discussing your future as if you weren’t even here.

“Who are you choosing, your majesty?” An advisor asks nervously.

Her. Always her. A thousand times over. In this life and the next and any other after that may follow.

“We need a final three, so we can move on to the next round of tests.”

Round? Tests? This was your life and here it is being discussed as if it were a gameshow.

Your stomach twists, fear rises in your throat making it feel tight. You take a gulp of water, allowing the coolness to sooth you, and look at the sheets placed in front of you. The faces blurring along with the writing.

“Y/n, what are your opinions?” You ask, genuinely curious who she’d pick for you.

She’d choose someone who was strong enough to rule but also sensitive enough to be a decent match for you and that was all you could hope for at this point, a decent match. The three words everyone aspires to describe their life partner.

You wait with baited breath for her response, somewhere deep down in the pits of your heart where hope was long ago locked away and buried beneath years of friendly rubble, it makes an alarming surprise visit, breaking through the debris with ease. You cling to the book of secrets that’s been held captive there in a vault created from torment and in the dark corners you’re on your knees, praying to a god you don’t think will listen. Praying you hear her utter all the impossible things you know she never will. The desperation inside you, clawing to escape out of the refined, solid cage you built, you’re clenched fists under the table fighting to keep it down along with your breakfast.

Everything stills and slowly starts to wither away back to its original place, the place where it belongs, when she nonchalantly reads off three names...none of them hers.

"You've been ordered to participate y/n." The royal adviser informs you, his words ringing like high-pitched sirens in your ears.

"I'm sorry, ordered by whom?" You frown, not understanding, the very idea of what he’s suggesting baffling your mind.

He sighs awkwardly, it’s obvious he did not want to be the one standing in front of you with your hot molten glare on him.

"Who gave the order?” You persist, when his silence is the only response you receive.

He looks down, away from your blazing eyes. “Her majesty, the Queen.”

You freeze, the ground feeling as if it would break away under your feet. What!? Why would she force you to participate in this? She knows you do not want to be Jungkook’s wife and that he would not want you to be his?

This makes no sense. You’ve always had such a lovely relationship with his parents. When you befriended Jungkook, they welcomed you in with open arms and loving smiles, encouraged your friendship and supported you with every decision along the way, so why do this?

“I need to speak with her majesty.” You say through gritted teeth, not only from anger but your attempt at trying to keep down the bile you can feel burning your throat like lava.

He gives you a sharp nod and leads you to her quarters, not that you needed to be shown, you know this castle like the back of your hand, everything in it was both familiar and safe.

As he announces you, you swallow, desperate to wet your dry throat pinching the air that passes with every breath. You hold back your cough in favour of clearing your throat, hoping to relieve the desert patch you feel, gravel grazing your insides down into the pit of your stomach.

When you enter she greets you with a broad, bright smile, a smile that contrasts so drastically to how you feel and, for once, you can’t bear to return it.

Her face drops slightly, but you see a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that makes your blood boil hot and irate in your veins. “Oh y/n, don’t pout, it doesn’t suit you.” She pats the seat next to her on her plush ornate sofa where she resides and places her book on the table in front.

You close the distance between you and sit rather woodenly at her side.

“The rules are the rules y/n, it’s nothing personal but I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I treated you differently. You know that.” Her eyes are so honest, a window right into her soul, lighting up and giving you a glimpse as to what it’s like to play her role.

“But I can’t be his wife!” You exclaim. “He would never want me that way.” You urge, shaking your head at the sheer hilarity of the idea.

You’re met with a poker straight stare, unmoving, her skin still smooth after all these years, unreadable and hard as stone. Picture perfect, a royal portrait ready to be framed with gold. “If that��s the case, what are you worried about?”

You open your mouth to respond but the words are squeezed around your panic induced, contracting throat. Your words seem far away, as you grapple desperately for them.

She places a gentle hand on your knee, the touch calming you instantly. "Y/n listen to me, I know this whole situation has come as a shock to you and to Jungkook, believe me it's still processing for the King and I, but this is our life, however unfortunate, we have a duty. Now, you are not bound to this life by any means, but participating in this is your duty."

She watches you for a moment, her intense gaze making you shift in your seat, as if she was seeing straight into you, everything you held laid bare for her own personal exhibit. "I know it’s hard, the idea that someone will take your place at his side, but he needs a wife and we know you don't want it to be you." Her piercing eyes driving a quick, sharp needle into yours, you look away unable to hold her intruding stare.

"Of course not." You retort with a snort.

She sits back on her sofa, her posture softening, relaxing against the cushioned back. She smiles staring at her hands placed in her lap, as if amused by an inside joke you're not privy to.

"You need to start listening to your heart more than your head, y/n, it will save you a lot of heartbreak in the future."

Perplexed by this unexpected turn in conversation you find yourself frowning. "What do you mean?"

Kindness stretching her mouth into a friendly curve. "My child, it seems I know you better than you know yourself. Your eyes tell."

"Tell what?" You shake your head trying to clear the mud in your mind, making her words impossible to understand.

"Everything." She sighs and stands. "I'm afraid I cannot get you out of this but as you said, you know he won't choose you, so there's no need to panic, is there?"

She saunters gracefully out of the room leaving you with only your bewildered thoughts.

There's a double meaning in her last words but you struggle to determine what it could be.

And how would she know you better than you do? There's a hint of anxiety at what she saw in your eyes, at what you'd apparently given away to her. Your thoughts race, unable to connect her words to your reasoning and you leave the room feeling more frustrated and perplexed than when you entered.

You lean over the pages of the final women you have to choose from, head down eyes unwavering from the same spot you’ve been looking at for what feels like a lifetime. You’ve gone from three possible wives to four, the latter you’re sure if you take your eyes off the page it will disappear before you.

Can this be real? Did she agree to this? Did she nominate herself to take part? Hope blossoms dangerously in your chest, flowering around your heart, encasing it in a prison of promise. A prison you’re creating, you know it but cannot stop. Your thoughts run away with you, visions of your dreams becoming reality within your grasp.

You and her sneaking off grounds for picnics and play dates in the sun, trekking through the forest and taking the row boat out around the river bend, travelling to Paris and visiting the Notre Dame; somewhere she’s always wanted to go, the two of you snapping your own love lock on a branch of a tree with your initials entwined together and throwing away the keys in a nearby river. All the hopeless romantic things you’ve wanted to do, becoming a possibility, the excitement causing butterflies to fly rampantly in your stomach.

You push your chair out, finding your feet and rushing out of the room to find her.

As you parade down the golden ornate halls, feeling as though you’re being carried by eagles wings, floating across the grounds being pulled in her direction. Her face; the only thing guiding your vision, maybe cupid’s arrow finally aimed in the direction you were hoping for, maybe god finally heard you.

You find her by the fountains, her favourite place here, sitting staring at the water as if it holds the answers to all life’s problems. She hears your approach, her eyes snapping up to yours before quickly looking away to hide the tears you’ve already seen and brushing her face with her sleeve.

You step down off the wings, coming crashing back down to earth, the butterflies turning to acid in your stomach and tasting it in your mouth as you rush to her side. Pulling her against you, wrapping her up in a cocoon of comfort and love.

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Tell me.” You urge, panic tightening your gut, squeezing your insides in a vice.

“I’m sure you’ve seen. I’ve been forced to participate in your bride-to-be pageant.” She spits bitter words aimed at you, hope clams up and collapses inside you.

You realise how foolish you’d been to let yourself believe that she could want this like you crave, that she could see you anything like how you admire her, that she could feel for you the way you worship her. Your heart feels heavy, sinking in your chest and resting in the loveless hole gaping open, revealing your insides. The dullness overtakes you, seizing your limbs one by one, you’re unable to listen to the words she angrily ranting. A cloud of darkness swallowing you whole and you gladly take it by the hand, allowing it to draw you in. Maybe you’d forget if you stayed in there, in the dark. Maybe you’d forget about her if you just gave yourself the chance.

She doesn’t want this, she doesn’t want you, that much is clear. So how can you choose her? Even if that is what you truly and honestly desire more than anything. You could not put her through that. She deserves to feel the way you do about someone, even if that person can’t be you, she deserves it, she deserves love. It was time to release her, to let her go.

The thought had tears prick in your eyes, you quickly blink them away.

“You don’t have to worry Y/n, it’s just a formal procedure. I won’t choose you, you’re off the hook.” The words leave you quickly, before you change your mind and sound like they belong to someone else. You would never say them, would you?

She pauses and looks up at you, her tear stained cheeks; you itched to reach out and wipe the shiny, salty trails away but you clench your hand into a fist to stop yourself. “You won’t?” She asks in disbelief.

“Of course not.” You try to give her a reassuring smile but it feels false, painted on like the many royal portraits you grew up staring at.

She stares back out at the fountain, back stiff against you. Your arms fall loosely away from her. “Oh, well, that’s a relief.” She sighs and yet, her reaction perplexes you. You thought she’d seem happier, instead she just seems blank.

“Hey, chin up.” You nudge her jaw with your fist, a friendly gesture you had done many times. When she arches away from it, the action makes your insides twist, unable to understand.

What have you done wrong? You couldn't win, nothing seemed like the right decision anymore.

Why did she seem to be slipping further and further away from you? Even though she sat right next to you, your arms lightly touching at the proximity, she had never felt further away from you. Just out of reach of your grasp.

He had spoken the words you hoped for and yet, you couldn't describe this overwhelming feeling that had draped over you almost instantly, like a blanket of despair. It has enveloped you more and more over the passing weeks.

As you watch him and her, his chosen bride, from your perch of loneliness you felt annoyance grow inside you. You're his friend, his best friend, you should be happy if he's happy.

You watch him smile at her, occasionally he might take her hand in his or tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Things he used to do with you, but it seems different with her, more intimate. And yet it’s funny how you know neither of them have romantic feelings for one another, it's all a façade, it’s all forced.

Why would anyone want to live like that? A loveless marriage. You couldn't wrap your head around the concept.

Was she so desperate to become queen? It's not like she has much of a choice though, those of you within certain households, certain names and certain social standing had a duty. It has been drummed into you since you can remember. That had only acted to make you more determined not to live like that.

You were free, he'd told you himself and yet you couldn't help but sit here; consumed by hopelessness.

Not for yourself surely, but for him. He now had to live the life you dread.

Maybe you should have said you'd marry him, put your selfishness aside and given him a friend in marriage instead of a stranger but it was too late now. Any hope of saving him was out of your reach, all you could do was watch as he made the biggest mistake of his life.

He should be with someone who knows when he's upset just by the look in his wide eyes, who knows each crease in his face when it crinkles when he smiles, who knows each line of his secret tattoos he always keeps hidden. He needs someone he can be himself with, someone who would do anything to see him happy, someone who would do everything to protect him and keep him safe. Someone he can have adventures with as well as make tough decisions with, someone who will bear him beautiful children and raise them to be just as loving and kind as him. He deserves all that and more.

Miss what's-her-name will never be able to give him that. She'll never be good enough. She'll never know what he wants or needs, not like you would.

You know him better than anyone. You could make him happy. So why wouldn't he pick you?

If he's not choosing for love why wouldn't you be first choice, surely that's obvious. Then again, why should you want him to choose you?

You were free to marry whoever you wanted. So, why now did the thought of Jungkook marrying her weigh you down with a rock in your gut, consuming you, making it impossible for you to move without thinking of anything other than her being with him. Touching him. Possibly loving him. Being his wife and her stomach being full with his children.

Why did it burn you so much you could hardly breath? Clawing for air with ragged breaths, you had to uproot your feet from their planted spot and go. Go anywhere the sickening sight of them wasn't, the last image of them walking through the palace gardens hand in hand was enough to overflow the salty dam in your eyes, crumbling with your resolve to hold it in. Your realisation, as you turn away from him, hitting you like a ton of bricks.

The blanket of night that had been covering you - concealing you from the light, from the truth, had finally been lifted.

How could you not have seen it?

How could you not have known?

The way he could make you smile through anything, or the way your stomach fluttered sometimes in his presence, or the way he knew you better than anyone and always seemed to know what you were thinking.

He was your glowing, peaceful moon lighting up the dark sky. The colourful morning sunrise, warming the chill of the night. The roots of your tree, keeping you grounded and yet the bright blossoms in the field bringing you comfort.

After all these years...you finally understood.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind Charlotte’s ear, the action almost mechanical, something you should do as opposed to something you want to.

With y/n it was an excuse to feel her skin against your fingers, a chance to give her a caring caress and a subtle way to show her how you care. It fell on deaf ears or blind eyes, rather. All your efforts to show her your feelings, to attempt to get her to notice your heart, wide open and ready for the taking, went unnoticed. Maybe you should have uttered the words into her ear one day, laying in the meadow, basking under the sun.

But you didn’t.

You’ve made your decision. It’s Charlotte. She is to be your wife and your queen.

Perhaps, one day, you might feel something more deeply than the awkward discomfort making your toes curl. After all, tomorrow you will be standing in the palace with an audience and a live broadcast as you announce your bride and their queen to be.

It's your duty, there's no escaping it, you know this. And yet, your chest is weighed down, tight with an anchor pulling you underwater as you fight and kick against the waves of emotions crashing against you. Clawing your way to the surface and fighting for breath as hopelessness fills your lungs. The box your heart was kept in for her, now feels like an empty cage. Hollow. She left, not physically but in spirit, and took your beating organ with her, the life slowly draining in her absence.

But here you are still standing, unable to give up and let go.

You had to. You needed to move on and away from her, perhaps one day you'll be able to stop picturing her face, hearing her laugh or the smell of her skin.

Your agonising thoughts running rampant in your mind made you want to scream up at the sky. At a god you were rapidly losing faith in.

You needed to be alone and get yourself together.

You made your excuses, apologising to your fiancé - an invisible noose around your neck pulling tight from the very thought of who she was to you and who she would be for the rest of your life - and left, albeit rather abruptly.

Rushing to the stables and guiding your horse out of palace grounds, racing away from decision making and royal duty.

The wind against your face, cool air relentless as you speed across fields but cooling your burning skin, ablaze with frustration. The sound of hooves thundering against the ground seem to echo out around you in otherworldly quiet, giving away your position to everyone.

They'll search for you soon, you know this but you just need to breathe. You need to feel your lungs expanding and shrinking on their own, moving how they should, without barbed wire squeezing around them, digging in with every draw in of air and stopping you short.

You needed a last moment of freedom, before the tight noose of your responsibilities squeezed around your neck and choked you.

Your breathing came hard and harsh as you pushed your horse as fast as he could go, until the meadow came into view, your meadow and hers. You'd ended up here, again. This special place, holding so many memories.

You climb off your horse and sink down into the grass, each blade a page of remembrance tying the two of you together. A bond you thought indestructible and yet, here you are desperately clinging onto her in fistfuls of grass.

You understood, your life is on the cusp of changing forever, no going back, it's a life she cannot be a part of in the same way. Of course she'd want to move away from it all, if you could…it's irrelevant because you can't.

Duty to country before anything and everything else. Being a good ruler should be your main concern right now. And yet, you are plagued with the thought…'what if i had told her?'

What if.

Would it have made any difference? Probably not.

Would your friendship have been ruined? Probably.

But at least, if you had been brave enough to utter the words, even once, then you wouldn't feel as incomplete as you do right now. On your knees, gripping onto the turf as if to hold you in place, head against the ground and eyes squeezed shut.

If there's one last thing you should say, even to unburden yourself after all these years and remove the heavy shawl of emotion that’s been draped across your shoulders, weighing you down, it should be your truth. Finally.

Not for any expectation of reciprocation but to know that you did everything you could. No regrets when you look back at the choice you've had to make.

Just the truth.

The horse was already moving as you had one foot in the rung of the saddle and the other straddling across it.

"Jungkook's missing." The words from the royal advisor replay anxiously in your head, making your heart pound violently against your ribs, playing its own panicked score.

He left the palace hours ago on his horse and hasn't been seen since. The way your gut twists at the direction your thoughts take has your fists clenched painfully around the reigns.

You bolt out of the palace gates, hoping you know exactly where he'll be.

Trees whip past you at alarming speed but you dare not slow down. You need him to be ok. You need him to hear what you have to say. You need him.

Scanning the distance frantically, looking for the break in the trees, revealing the meadow, your heart almost stops when your eyes finally land upon it.

You spot his horse first, then see his hunched figure leaning over in the grass and fear takes your heart and locks it in a vice grip so painful tears fill your wild eyes.

You're already climbing off before the hooves have stilled.

"Jungkook!" You hear his name in a strangled scream and realise it's you the distraught voice has escaped from.

As you sprint in his direction, he sits straight up, surprised eyes shooting up to you and relief washes over you like rough waves crashing against the shore.

Your body collides heavily with his, a thump sounding out all around you into the usually calming silence. The air leaves his lungs in a hiss as he's flung backwards to the ground.

You squeeze your arms around him, holding him so close and so tight, frightened he'll be carried off into the wind like the seeds from the dandelion puff balls surrounding you.

His arms hesitantly wrap around your waist as if worried you'll break.

You pull yourself back to look at his beautiful face, to make sure he's ok and in one piece but the shock that widens his doe-like eyes momentarily distracts you.

"Y/n, what's wrong!?" He fusses, wiping softly at your tear trails with gentle thumbs. Cradling your face in his hands, worry lines wrinkling his forehead as if he has reason to worry about you.

Hot tears fall fervently from your eyes, unable to be stopped. You smile at him, tracing his smooth cheekbones and sharp jawline with your fingers.

Seeing him and looking into his eyes in this moment, it's undeniable your heart belongs to him.

How you never realised is truly mind blowing, it's so obvious now, all your confusing thoughts and feelings towards this entire situation suddenly made clear.

Overwhelmed to the point your chest is so full of him it feels ready to burst, sprinkling your special place with heart-shaped confetti etched with his name.

"I have to tell you something, before it's too late." You say taking a deep breath and straightening your back with determination, as you sit almost on his lap.

His worrying eyes search yours, frantically going from one to the other, trying to read you, trying to find answers to unasked questions.

"Over the past few weeks, I've been trying to understand...all of the memories we've made, and the places we've spent time together, they're very special to me, I hope you know that? I hold them very dear. And I was afraid of you having this other person to share them with and that i would be pushed out —"

"Y/n, I would never do that." He insisted, cupping your face in his hand. He means it too, it's written all over his face, your own personal scripture of truth.

"I know." You say softly, smiling and interrupting him before you lose your nerve to continue. "My point is, I thought it was the idea of being replaced by her that was bothering me so much but I realised something…I've been an absolute idiot." You laugh to yourself, feeling freer than ever.

He stares back at you with bewildered amusement.

"It's never been where we were or what we did that made everything so special...it was you. You are the centre of it all. You're the person who knows me better than anyone. You're the one who makes me endlessly and purely happy. You make me feel safe and protected. You are...home. Everything makes sense when you’re by my side. Wherever you are, I want to be. Whether that be as your wife, your queen or just your friend...if your decision is still to be with Charlotte, I will support you throughout —"

"Wait, I'm confused. At the fountain the other day, you were distraught at the idea of marrying me, you were relieved when I told you I wouldn't choose you?"

You look down at your hands that are now in your lap, ashamed you didn't realise then in that moment what is so clear to you now.

"I didn't understand then. But I wasn't relieved, my heart felt like it was caving in on itself. I didn't want to be in the running because I never thought you'd choose me. I told myself I didn't want you to, I didn't want to be a part of it, when the actual truth of it is I wanted to be your only choice, not the best out of a bad bunch but I couldn't face the idea that you might not choose me."

You feel your cheeks tinge crimson from your words, feeling sheepish for your naivety.

You peek up at him shyly through your lashes. He's frozen and wide eyed, staring at you curiously.

"So what exactly are you saying y/n? So I can understand this correctly." His quiet, breathy voice makes your heart pound faster and harder than ever. Each thrum vibrating through you with the sound of his name to accompany its beat.

You gulp loudly, digging deep for your last ounce of courage, to utter the words. To say them out loud makes it real, equally as the possibility of affirmation or rejection. You take another breath, your eyes meeting his, those pools of ebony you could so easily get lost in. "I'm in love with you."

The silence that follows is almost deafening as you prepare yourself for a sweet, gentle refusal. But you're perplexed when you see his perfect lips upturn and stretch, beaming at you like a ray of sunshine. He moves forward to you quickly, you lean in anticipating his next words. But when his lips crush against yours instead, it doesn’t register for a moment or two, you stiffen before your body's primal response takes over and your hands find their way up into his hair, skating your fingers through his silky locks.

The feel of his soft mouth on yours was undeniably alluring, pulling you in deeper with each movement of his lips. Your heart pounds frantic in your chest as the feel of his hands around your waist, holding you flush against him, your bodies moulded tight almost as one was enough to enthral you entirely. When he abruptly pulls back, you feel cold and needy. Your heart, now an open wound, seared by his kiss, bleeding love uncontrollably.

He holds your face in his hands, foreheads touching and breathing heavy. “How I have longed to hear you say those words.” He whispers.

Your eyes bulge at his admission but as you open your mouth to speak, he lifts a finger against your lips to silence you.

“I didn’t believe in love, not until I met you. I could only ever imagine a life and a marriage destined to be only friendly and passionless. But I have loved you since that first summer we met and I have wished everyday since for you to feel even a fraction of the way I do for you.”

He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering gently on the skin of your neck. “Tell me again.” He pleads.

“I love you.” You lean forward and kiss him again. “I love you.” You utter the words between quick, desperate kisses causing him to groan against your mouth. His arm snakes around your waist and the ground leaves you, air breezing through your hair. You’re on your feet before you know it and your gaze is drawn downwards to him, in front of you, on one knee.

He tightly grips your hand in both of his. “I have waited long enough for you. I saw a glimpse of a world without you by my side and it was monochrome and cold. I don’t want that. I want to see the colours when you look at me and smile so sweetly. I need to hear your laugh, my personal symphony. And if you would take my hand and walk the path into tomorrow and forever with me as my wife and my Queen, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make yours as colourful and joyous as mine will be. Marry me, please?”

You feel hot tears sting your eyes as happiness blooms deep in your chest. A bright orange tiger flower blossoming for him, a beacon of light and joy calling to you, showing you your rightful and chosen path. All these wasted years shall be no more and new ones accompanied by new memories await.

“Yes!”

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meloncubedradpops · 4 years ago

Text

Repo! the Corona Opera: Part Two Fascist Boogaloo

Greetings fellow Repo! fans,

Here is my second installment of a series of three essays where I compare our contemporary times with the movie Repo! the Genetic Opera. My first piece detailed the similarities between the two worlds, and turns out, I have an awful lot to talk about still. I ended my last article by posing the question, "What went wrong in this dystopia to normalize the concept of death due to nonpayment?" No doubt, this movie is incredibly outrageous on many fronts, particularly within the dynamics of the Largo family. As mentioned in the previous piece, I highlighted the pervasiveness of GeneCo's power and influence towards the citizens in the city (is it called city of GeneCo? GeneCo-land? GenCity? An actual city in Italy??).

People who write stories often bend the rules to make their story compelling. Be it exaggerating social interactions, creating scientifically impossible scenarios, or even allowing the characters to use technology that does not exist yet. I admit the creators of Repo! applied all those tactics and more, which makes the parallels I draw that much more surreal. I want to acknowledge this before I dive deeper because yes, I truly think it would be impossible to have a company who can offer cheap and dirty surgeries with an absence of debilitating class action lawsuits resulting from botched procedures, infection, or their body rejecting the organ transplant. And while I admit Zydrate does not exist, yet, but we do have a long history with opioid abuse. If you asked me when I first watched the movie if I think the Largo family could be a mirror of an ultra wealthy family from real life, I would have politely disagreed with you. But times right now are freaking weird. A single day does not go by where something completely outlandish is blasted all over the news, particularly in the United States.

In my last essay I pointed out examples where the citizens in GenCity live a life after experiencing a mass extinction event. Besides the technological anachronisms, society and GeneCo have an uncomfortably close relationship with each other. GeneCo is not merely a corporation that offers healthcare and surgeries, it has an unyielding power politically too. I argue that GenCity is ran by a fascist government that is controlled and operated by GeneCo.

If you're not a person who is super familiar with fascism, basically it's an extremist right wing government philosophy. I find it interesting that in the song "21st Century Cure", Graverobber says: Industrialization has crippled the globe. Although plagues, war, and other hardships existed before industrialization, that paradigm of change accelerated the imbalances between man and nature. Fascism did not exist until after World War I, after all. Between the world war itself and the Spanish Flu of 1918, there was a lot of pain and suffering felt all over the world. Fascists took advantage of vulnerable populations and asserted that their political party is the only correct party, and those who oppose are considered an enemy. Historically fascist governments have blurred the lines between the spheres of what's considered "public" and "private", and often danced harmoniously with business allies in pursuit of profit. As an effect, fascist governments have required citizens to foot the bill of a private company's losses. With enough propaganda, fascist governments will have you believing that this is ultimately for the betterment of everyone. And if you give them enough time, they will normalize terrible acts against humanity that barely make a peep, if the truth even comes to light.

For the rest of this essay, I will be highlighting examples in the Repo! movie that correspond with characteristics of fascism, using political scientist Dr. Lawrence Britt's The 14 Characteristics Of Fascism, which was published in the spring 2003 issue of Free Inquiry magazine.

The 14 characteristics are:

1. Powerful and Continuing Nationalism: Fascist regimes tend to make constant use of patriotic mottos, slogans, symbols, songs, and other paraphernalia. Flags are seen everywhere, as are flag symbols on clothing and in public displays.

The world surrounding GeneCo occupies itself with the concept that this incorporated area derives a sense of nationalism, in the absence of much dissent. If you see below, there is an advertisement on the top right corner that says, "Your Birthplace for a new Heredity". GeneCo is not just a company that sells organs and surgeries. It is its own incorporated city. This ad, combined with GeneCo's relentless messaging that not only did this company save humanity, you must conform to the idea that only GeneCo can provide you the experience of feeling clean, safe, and perfect.

2. Disdain for the Recognition of Human Rights Because of fear of enemies and the need for security, the people in fascist regimes are persuaded that human rights can be ignored in certain cases because of "need." The people tend to look the other way or even approve of torture, summary executions, assassinations, long incarcerations of prisoners, etc.

Being able to legally repossess someone's organs because they didn't make their organ payments is about as disdainful as you can get. Nathan has a whole song called "Legal Assassin", and there doesn't appear to be many laws that would at least have the pretense that these repossessions are remotely humane. There are multiple instances in the movie where Nathan approaches a client who is already restrained, panicked, and powerless. From what I can gather from the media in Gencity, GeneCo proliferates the idea that the company would be dysfunctional if people could get financed surgeries and let those payments go to collections. When you're a mega corporation, they let you do it.

3. Identification of Enemies/Scapegoats as a Unifying Cause: The people are rallied into a unifying patriotic frenzy over the need to eliminate a perceived common threat or foe: racial , ethnic or religious minorities; liberals; communists; socialists, terrorists, etc.

While the career of a Graverobber is certainly creepy and macabre, the idea that they could be executed without a jury of their peers is especially strange. After I created my last essay, my friend Veronica pointed out, that per "A Needle Into A Bug", one of the deleted scenes from the movie, that street zydrate is not actually derived from the brains of dead people. He extracts zydrate from bugs that nest inside the craniums of dead people, which in my opinion is a huge distinction. So who is he really stealing from? Is it morally okay to dig up a corpse to get drug goo to sell to junkies? Absolutely not, and the idea is incredibly disrespectful for the dead. And while I am sure there are graverobbers in this world that likely steal things like jewelry from corpses, I still wouldn't justify being executed extrajudicially.

Further, Graverobber's relationship with the Largo family has me believing even more that GeneCo needs them more than their media campaign can justify. Rotti has access to incredible surveillance of the city, so you would think he would eliminate anyone who enabled Amber Sweet's addiction. My theory is GeneCo knows that street zydrate may result in more surgery sales. However they want to continue making money selling the lab-grown stuff. So the end justifies the means, if we can associate graverobbers and those who use street zydrate as criminals, we can continue believing that "they" are the enemies setting everyone else back.

4. Supremacy of the Military: Even when there are widespread domestic problems, the military is given a disproportionate amount of government funding, and the domestic agenda is neglected. Soldiers and military service are glamorized. AND 12. Obsession with Crime and Punishment: Under fascist regimes, the police are given almost limitless power to enforce laws. The people are often willing to overlook police abuses and even forego civil liberties in the name of patriotism. There is often a national police force with virtually unlimited power in fascist nations.

GeneCo employs a private police force to carry out law enforcement. They patrol around a graveyard, a quasi-public space carved out for those who mourn. And because there is pervasive video surveillance, Rotti can demand that they do his bidding at any time. An example is his order to murder the repo man. We aren't aware of any sort of involvement beyond the borders of GenCity, but even the concept of a graveyard being a warzone is a special kind of hell.

5. Rampant Sexism- The governments of fascist nations tend to be almost exclusively male-dominated. Under fascist regimes, traditional gender roles are made more rigid. Opposition to abortion is high, as is homophobia and anti-gay legislation and national policy.

Genterns! On the surface, it’s pretty cool that there is a large volume of female medical professionals who are skilled enough to carry out surgeries. However behind the sexy veneer is the reality that Genterns are not set up for success. They are not provided adequate PPE and work under non-sterile conditions. In the "Mark it Up" scene, one is killed by Luigi. Imagine going to medical school for years and years, only to be tasked with the job of organ warehouse worker. Then on one of your shifts you are stabbed to death because the CEO's son bumped into you while you were working. Not only that, but you are also expected to dress proactively for the purpose of selling the GeneCo product and experience.

6. Controlled Mass Media: Sometimes to media is directly controlled by the government, but in other cases, the media is indirectly controlled by government regulation, or sympathetic media spokespeople and executives. Censorship, especially in war time, is very common. GeneCo has a monopoly on the media of the city. Politics, entertainment, healthcare, you name it, they have a direct stake in, and control over, the media. We do see from time-to-time tabloid clippings of the Largo family. But generally speaking, GeneCo puts a lot of effort in upholding their image. The best evidence is Blind Mag's story. She is a singer who acquired the ability to see after a GeneCo cornea surgery. And while she clocked into work day in and day out, singing and advertising for GeneCo for 17+ years, her departure resulted in Rotti murdering her. But why? Was he afraid of the things she would say? Rotti knew he was terminally ill when she declared her resignation, and yet killing her on stage is somehow less of a scandal?

7. Obsession with National Security: Fear is used as a motivational tool by the government over the masses. Fascist countries use fear as a tactic to keep the masses scared and compliant. The universe of Repo! is one filled with tragedy. Millions of people have died. I would imagine that the series of events that would lead to the creation and success of GeneCo was contingent upon people being scared for their lives. While dealing with the coronavirus, I find myself constantly checking my temperature, keeping my distance from people, and wearing a mask out in public. The human spirit is resilient, which is how we have survived so long. However sociopaths smell our fear and use it against us. The city of GeneCo is surrounded by plots upon plots of graveyards, signifying the carnage left after their public health crisis. I have a strong feeling that GeneCo was able to harness the threat of whatever caused the massive organ failure epidemic and as an effect created a power vacuum.

8. Religion and Government are Intertwined: Governments in fascist nations tend to use the most common religion in the nation as a tool to manipulate public opinion. Religious rhetoric and terminology is common from government leaders, even when the major tenets of the religion are diametrically opposed to the government's policies or actions.

This one is going to be a reach, particularly because there is an absence of religion in this story. I don't think religion would be on the creator's of Repo!'s purview, and honestly I don't blame them. If you look at the imagery of the story, however, it is very gothic. We have no idea if religion survives, and if it does, to what extent. I would imagine that people still have spiritual needs, and I argue that the GeneCo Opera is an example of how they get that fulfilled.

"If you want it, baby, GeneCo's got it"

The GeneCo opera is not your typical opera experience. GeneCo specifically tells their customers to "testify". People are singing in unison, praising GeneCo. Clearly GeneCo has taken several human rituals and blended them together to create an over-the-top entertainment experience that seeks to advertise their company behind the testimonials of its patrons. The benefits of the opera for GeneCo, as a fascist entity, are two-fold: have people associate their most nirvana moments with an experience only GeneCo can offer (zydrate and surgery), and distract them with religious-like concerts so they won't question their neighbors being murdered on the streets by that very same company.

9. Corporate Power is Protected: The industrial and business aristocracy of a fascist nation often are the ones who put the government leaders into power, creating a mutually beneficial business/government relationship and power elite. AND 13. Rampant Cronyism and Corruption: Fascist regimes almost always are governed by groups of friends and associates who appoint each other to government positions and use governmental power and authority to protect their friends from accountability. It is not uncommon in fascist regimes for national resources and even treasures to be appropriated or even outright stolen by government leaders.

Throughout the entire movie, the Largo family is front and center. We know Rotti is terminally ill, and he utilizes his final moments to tie up loose ends in his life. His children feel entitled to his estate and the company of GeneCo. At no point do we see Rotti consult with a board of directors at GeneCo, a private fiduciary firm, or with any government entity. I would describe the company of GeneCo to be a weird combination of an aristocracy, government body, and corporation. His children commit crimes with no recourse or justice. Rotti kills the doctor who tells him he's dying. Luigi kills multiple people throughout the movie. In one of the opening scenes, we see a photograph showing Pavi is cutting off a woman's face. In the credits we see Amber's body guards lying dead on the floor during her press statement. What sort of corruption took place to make these occurrences so prevalent and normalized?

10. Labor Power is Suppressed: Because the organizing power of labor is the only real threat to a fascist government, labor unions are either eliminated entirely, or are severely suppressed.

We aren't super privy to the machinations that make this city functional. But there is a clear stratification that has sustained itself long enough that healthcare is not a right in this city, and those who can't pay for necessary healthcare can finance it. In a just society, if we have the means to save humanity, we can figure out a way to pay for it. Be it taxes on the most wealthy or other cost-saving measures, if there is a will, there is a way. However if you give a company enough power and money, it will do everything it can to stay on top. The best examples I can think of would be Nathan and Blind Mag's tenuous career at GeneCo. Neither really wanted the job they were given, but they were forced into those positions by Rotti. Had Bling Mag belonged to a entertainment union, would she have had more protections? Would a proper investigation into the murder of Marni result in justice being served, and the opportunity for Nathan to live a better adjusted life? Rotti masterfully manipulates situations that create powerless outcomes for his employees.

11. Disdain for Intellectuals: Fascist nations tend to promote and tolerate open hostility to higher education, and academia. It is not uncommon for professors and other academics to be censored or even arrested. Free expression in the arts is openly attacked, and governments often refuse to fund the arts We don't see any particular evidence that GeneCo is currently hostile to higher education or academia. What we do know is the technologies of this world are akin to something we'd see out of the 20th century. However GeneCo is advanced enough to synthesize usable organs. In my last essay, I drew parallels to today by highlighting that there may have been a "brain drain" of intellectualism as a result of academics dying from their public health crisis. Outside of the opera house, we don't see many examples of art in this world. Maybe this is what happens when a government stops funding programs it deems frivolous or challenges the status quo?

14. Fraudulent Elections: Sometimes elections in fascist nations are a complete sham. Other times elections are manipulated by smear campaigns against or even assassination of opposition candidates, use of legislation to control voting numbers or political district boundaries, and manipulation of the media. Fascist nations also typically use their judiciaries to manipulate or control elections.

Based off context clues in the movie, we know that there is a group of voting citizens who help determine whether or not a company can repossess financed organs that are passed due on their payments. We don't know who makes these votes, the election process, or anything like that. So it is hard to say if GeneCo goes beyond their media campaign convincing voters to keep repossessions legal. Despite this lack of knowledge, I would argue that GeneCo wields incredible power regarding the course of elections for laws that apply to them. Okay, you want to pass a law to make organ repossession illegal? Fine, we don't have to offer products on a payment plan. The very threat of being able to take away healthcare is something right wing governments loveeee doing.

Speaking of elections, the United States 2020 general election is approaching. Now that I argued the ways that GeneCo is fascist, I will tie together ideas from both of these essays into a final piece that I hope you will like. If you enjoyed this article, please send it to all your Repo! friends.

#repo! the genetic opera #repo #Fascism #halloween #election #geneco #politics #horror #2020 #coronavirus #zydrate #musicals

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juminsmysticmc · 5 years ago

Note

Hello ✌ Can i request headcanons of how would have been the first years of marriage between RFA members + trio with Mc.

RFA + Minor Trio with Mc in their first years of Marriage

Hiii! I love these kind of requests! I hope you enjoy the Headcanon just like I love it!

Please give me feedback ✨🌹

Jumin

,,Moooooommmy! Daaaaaad!“ a little voice echoed through the room.

Your eyes flickered as you heard a manly voice chuckle.

,,Good morning my love…“ he mumbled in a husky voice, stroking your cheek.

,,Mhhhh…“ you moaned back, nuzzling your head into the pillow.

,,Did you sleep well?“ he asked you, concerned about your health.

,,I already thought that our son‘s pregnancy was hard, but your daughter is driving me crazy…“ you told him, rubbing your eyes to look at him.

He nodded.

,,I‘m free today. I can take care of our son and you can rest…“ he told you.

Not long afterwards, the same voice from before yelled your name again, making you smile.

,,No, I want to enjoy the time we have,“ you answered and tried to get up.

Suddenly the door opened with a lot of force.

A little boy that looked just like Jumin looked at you.

,,Mommy I hungry!“ he whined.

,,Okay, let‘s do pancakes?“ you laughed, approaching him and taking his hand.

,,No! I’ll make them for you with Dad!“ he energetically said, looking at his father with hopeful eyes.

Whatever you or his son asked, Jumin couldn’t say no.

So Jumin and your son ended up standing in the kitchen, working on breakfast.

You sat on the couch, rubbing your swollen belly.

Once again, you closed your eyes and thought about the past five years...

Back then, Jumin hid your body as the media tried to capture a picture of you.

The flashes from the cameras made your eyes flicker.

Jumin‘s words still made you smile. He told you to put yourself over everyone’s eyes with him still in second place.

The first discussions both of you had because he didn’t care about his own health…

You were even kidnapped one time.

Back then, you stormed out and ended up getting kidnapped.

Jumin turned South Korea upside down back then just to find you.

He ended up finding you unconscious in a house, four hours from your place.

You remembered how you got sick and how you found out about your pregnancy.

How Jumin gave his best and how awful it was when you went into labor, almost losing your boy.

But everything got better and now you’re just enjoying your time.

,,I can’t wait to enjoy the future with you…“ you mumbled to your unborn girl.

Shortly afterwards, your son called you and Jumin helped you up, ready to let you enjoy breakfast.

Zen

You and your husband sat together as you looked at the others.

The RFA was sitting around a round table, enjoying the atmosphere. It was something that didn’t happen often.

,,I still can’t believe it that three years have already passed!“ Yoosung whined, looking at both of you.

,,Yes. You both still look like newlyweds,“ Jaehee nodded.

You smiled brightly at her as your hand laid on top of his.

,,I still remember everything as if it was yesterday…!“ you laughed.

Zen looked at you ,,So many things happened…“ he laughed.

You thought about your first years of marriage with Zen.

Just like a dream.

It was still hard for his family to accept you guys, but the reason why you guys could hold your marriage in the first place was because they finally spoke to you.

But even now, it’s hard for you to talk to your in-laws.

Both Zen and you feel unwelcome, but you know that you mean something to them since they always invite you to every upcoming family gathering.

,,I remember when Mc rushed out and slept over at my place, hahah!“ Seven laughed.

,,That’s not funny! I was so worried! I thought she left me just because of some rumors!’’ Zen mumbled, feeling bad again.

,,Rumors? I couldn’t believe that they were just rumors back then because I saw pictures of you holding her hand! I didn't know that they made it up until Seven found out, that it was photoshopped,’’ you answered back.

Zen nodded and held your hand tighter.

Misunderstandings like these didn’t happen anymore since your love grew stronger over the years.

Aside from that, nothing else happened.

Both of you lived your lives to the fullest and enjoyed the time you had together.

All that was missing was a proper family…

,,Are you still trying? I can give you the best doctors,’’ Jumin then said, turning your attention to reality again.

Indeed, you guys wanted to start a family.

Although, Zen’s career was at its peak now, he wished for the same.

,,Thank you, Jumin,’’ you said and smiled.

,,But we don’t need it! I can do it!’’ Zen hissed, hugging your body strongly against his, making you blush in a deep red.

The sex between the both of you was still a big highlight in the night…

Yoosung

,,Bye!’’ you called back as you left the hospital.

Yoosung was now quite busy as he was one of the best vets in Seoul.

You walked back to your apartment and observed the city.

Yoosung and you were now married for seven years.

,,I’m home!’’ Yoosung called, taking off his shoes and hugging you immediately.

,,We should try for a baby tonight so that I can prove to you that I’m not a baby myself,’’ Yoosung said, repeating what he said at lunch.

You deeply kissed him and nodded.

,,But first, let’s eat dinner, Yoosung,’’ you chuckled.

The first years of marriage with Yoosung weren’t always easy.

At times, he still struggled at his job but with your support he could overcome everything.

Even though he had to still wear his glasses, his eyes were improving.

Both of you finally laid in your shared bed after your act of love.

Yoosung was stroking your back as your head rested on his strong chest.

In your first years of marriage, both of you got to know that for you it would be harder to become parents.

Apparently, the two of you first faced seven years of bad luck.

You could remember it as if it was yesterday, when the doctor confessed this message.

But with your love both of you overcame the hardship and found a way to fight it.

,,I can’t wait to become the mother of your child…’’ you mumbled and then fell asleep, missing the part when Yoosung agreed with you.

Jaehee

Every night in bed, you thanked god for your happy marriage with Jaehee. She had been your wife for almost three years.

Those years with her were eventful.

You thought about her proposal, the wedding, and your honeymoon, which was your highlight for sure!

The time with her in Italy was wonderful with her wet skin at the beach and her happy laugh.

Her smile always made your heart beat quicker.

The nights you spent together with your skin touching and slapping over again and the evenings where both of you sat together outside, watching the stars below the italian sky.

,,What are you thinking about?’’ Jaehee asked you when she saw your face after entering the room.

You looked at her and once again, your heart began to beat crazily, just like the first day.

Her long hair rested on her shoulders as she slipped into the cozy blankets.

,,About our marriage,’’ you answered, hugging her body.

Jaehee laughed.

,,Remember when we arrived after our honeymoon and thought that someone robbed our shop, but the RFA planned a surprise for us?’’ she asked you, making you laugh immediately at the flashback.

You nodded and continued ,,I was so scared! Or when Yoosung began to cry in the shop, saying he didn’t want to go back to Jumin because his LOLOL ranking disappeared!’’ you laughed, making her chuckle.

,,I remember all those happy times in our shop, our happy customers, and the happy faces…’’ she mumbled.

,,I feel so good with you…’’ she then added, making you nod.

You, too, were thankful for having her in your life.

,,Mom, Mama…’’ a little girl entered the room.

Of course you couldn’t forget your adoptive daughter.

In your marriage there was also a hard time.

Back then, you wanted to adopt a baby, but the state didn’t let you and wanted to take her away again.

It was the worst time in your life, but thankfully Jumin could help you out.

,,Come here, baby…’’ you mumbled and called her.

The little girl hurried to the two of you and as soon as she was between the both of you, her eyes closed, making her go to wonderland.

,,Yes, our marriage is a happy one…’’ you laughed and stroked the girl's face.

Jaehee nodded at your comment and hugged both of you, closing her eyes too and wishing you a happy night.

Saeyoung

You looked at the clock as you waited at a decorated table in a fancy restaurant.

Saeyoung invited you to go out for your ninth anniversary.

You chuckled to yourself. Some things never changed, apparently.

You reviewed your first years of marriage with him.

It was hard for both of you because at first you wanted to run away, taking only Saeran with you.

But then, you realised that the RFA became far more than just the RFA.

They were like a family.

Of course you were still a bit angry at Yoosung and Zen for hiding Rika, but you knew at least that if you would come to make a mistake, both of them would make sure to help you out.

You also knew that Jumin and Jaehee would do their best to lead you the right way again.

The first years of marriage were almost terrible.

Now that so many years had passed, you had to laugh about the mistakes you guys made.

At first, there was the problem with Saeran.

It often stressed you guys out and made you argue a lot.

But it all ended well.

The agency didn’t contact you anymore and you could almost live a normal life.

And not long after your marriage, both of you became parents.

With your little red haired twins, which were now six, the happiness in your house never died down.

You and the RFA met up regularly, making them meet their only family.

,,If I call Saeyoung now, he will go crazy…“ you mumbled.

Saeyoung and you decided to come separately since he probably had something planned.

You decided to instead call your two nannies, Yoosung and Zen, who we’re taking care of the twins with Saeran.

Loud voices echoed into the phone.

,,THINGS ARE GOING WELL! THANK GOD SAERAN IS WITH US!“ Yoosung yelled.

,,AH NO! DON‘T!“ he yelled again and then cut the line.

You pitied them because somehow your two devils only listened to you, their mom.

,,How are they doing?“ Saeyoung asked you when he finally joined you.

,,Sixteen minutes too late! You‘re improving!“ you laughed and then told him that you just called them.

,,Such rascals...whatever, these sixteen minutes weren’t in vain because - I got this! Long Dog!“ he proudly said, handing you over a long dog out of metal.

You looked up at him and tried your best to not begin to loudly laugh at him.

Suddenly the dog began to talk in a funny voice, making you laugh.

The Long Dog began to talk about your story of nine full years…

He didn’t forget a single detail. Not even when the car broke down in the woods and you were alone...working on becoming pregnant.

Tears left your eyes as you looked up.

,,To our future…“ you said with a trembling voice, picking up your glass.

,,To our future...I love you,“ he whispered.

Saeran

You watched how Saeran showed Saeyoung how to hold the baby you gave birth to a few days ago.

There couldn’t be anything which could make you feel happier right now.

Watching your husband hold his baby and his twin brother trying to do the same.

Finally, Saeyoung could hold your newborn daughter on his own, watching her sleep.

Saeran turned to you.

,,Are you okay?“ he asked you, concerned.

You nodded. You were sleepy, but you felt good.

,,I was thinking about the past…“ you told him.

Saeran nodded.

You got pregnant before your marriage.

At that time, you thought that becoming a mother wasn’t right.

You just found out and weren’t brave enough to tell Saeran since he was on his way to finding Saeyoung.

When the agency, however, blackmailed him to kill his unborn child, he found out.

,,TRUST ME!“ he yelled.

,,I WILL FIND HIM AND KEEP YOU SAFE!“ he cried.

And so, he and Jumin, as well as Jumin‘s best men, handled saving Saeyoung.

Afterwards, your wedding was held with Saeyoung finally by your side.

Saeran even forgave him after this long time.

And so, you began to live a whole different life in your first year.

Nothing to worry about since Rika was taken care of, no one to search for since Saeyoung was finally by your side…

Everything was at his best.

The only problems were your throbbing feet, which didn’t get better even after Saeran kept massaging them and your carvings, which drove the twins crazy.

,,Where do I find spinach with apples at 2.30 AM?“ Saeran asked his brother in the middle of the night.

,,Not even the agency bothered me with so many questions…“ he mumbled and sent him to a convenience store.

As newlyweds, you really enjoyed your time together and you also planned to do it for the next three years.

,,As long as our daughter is little, we want to see the world. Afterwards, we will come back and begin to live a normal life…“ Saeran confessed.

The RFA nodded.

It was only natural that you guys now wanted to take a little rest.

And so you indeed came back after three years, ready to show and tell them about all your experiences and memories you did around the world...

Jihyun

After three years, Jihyun left you alone and you didn’t want to lose time.

And as if he could read your mind, he asked to marry you.

The first years went by perfectly.

You all forgave Rika, even though sometimes you still woke up from nightmares.

,,I will always stay by your side,“ Jihyun mumbled in the dark night.

,,I‘m your husband and I will take care of you…“ he went on and stroked you until you could finally fall asleep again.

The years went by like that.

You and Saeran, as well as the RFA, first focused on becoming better.

The hard and sad memories first had to become a part of you.

To do that, you all agreed on meeting once a week.

Saeyoung, with his brother after a long time, and Yoosung with the RFA, even though he found out about Rika.

It went well. In that time you also held a lot of parties and got even more famous.

Jihyun found his hobby for life and was more than happy to make you take part.

The adoption of Lucy was also something pretty spontaneous.

You saw the girl and immediately fell in love with her smile, and since getting pregnant would still take a bit, you wanted to make the girl happy and become her family.

Jihyun was unsure and not fond of the idea, but you made it clear that you weren’t like Rika.

And so, your marriage was becoming happier and happier.

Vanderwood

,,We can’t do that to the RFA…“ you whispered one day in the backseat of Saeyoung’s car.

Vanderwood and you just had a pretty sexy activity done.

,,I‘m getting hunted by my agency...let’s run away and get married and after a few years we can come back…“ Vanderwood tried to pursue, winning in the end.

You left a message for Saeyoung since he greatly took care of you.

And so after you two signed the documents and were officially married, your fugitive marriage began.

From one city to the next one, from Europe to America and back.

You saw a lot and was able to learn many new things, as well as all the languages.

Vanderwood and you found out how to live as rich people.

But you also had to go through hardships of powerlessness and having no money.

But these experiences were so important and you were grateful for them all.

Hidden with a fake identity, you and Vanderwood worked for various places.

And so, after five years of a beautiful marriage, with a third identity, you two went back with a half member too below your heart.

,,I will take care of both of you…“ Vanderwood promised when he opened the door to your apartment and got surprised by the RFA who were ready to welcome you with open arms.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

19.01.2020//23:36 MEST

Tagged: @foreversunshine-love @giulia2372 @sailormoonrocks666 @widya345 @remiliadacalde @r-f-a-journalists

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yourlatitude · 5 years ago

Text

indemnify. (ii)

Gaius find himself trapped in her eyes. She got into his head and all he wants is to hurt her like she did. But he couldn’t. Not when it cause him a greater pain for himself.

(18+ Trigger Warning. Explicit. Smut. Heavy one.)

The story is set long after the last war with Rheya and Gaius is confused with his purpose. The story may sounds disturbing, but that’s how Gaius and Lily-Rose functioning at first. They seeks justification and solace for their loved one.

(Bloodbound: Gaius Augustine x Lily-Rose Raines (OC))

PART I. PART II.

She stares at her mother’s painting for an hour straight. If she opens her cap, everyone will start to look at her instead of the painting. Lily-Rose realized the resemblance between her and her mother is uncanny with a splash of her father here and there. Thank God her parents are gorgeous.

She usually visits this museum until late, waiting for a certain person to come and do what she’s doing right now. She saw him first in the history book. Then every time her mother touched her when she’s feeding. Then in her dreams. And last time was in her connected dream with her mother that turned her eyes permanently red. Blood red. Doing nothing to conceal her true nature as a vampire.

Not that she tried to hide. Humans and vampires live together in peace now, with a little of stupidities here and there of course. She can walk under the sun, somehow, and doing just fine with eating human food. So she never had the urge to hide. She was born past beyond those hardships era that her Godmother, Kamilah, often told her when she was a child.

Her senses tingling when she smells him. She quickly moves from her spot and let him have his usual spot. He is earlier than usual. Tall, dark-haired, piercing blue eyes, sharp jaw, and sharp structure of his face. He is sharp everywhere. Even his smell is too sharp to her liking.

Lily-Rose has been stalking him for a month. After endless dreams and nightmares with his face in it, she couldn’t take it anymore. She needs to find him.

Gaius Augustine stands in front of her mother’s painting as always. 30 minutes minimum. Just staring at her like he is praying to her. Lily-Rose doubt that he is praying to any God. Yet his eyes always looking at her mother as her mother is his religion. Well, her mother is some kind of Goddess to many vampires. Including her father.

But this man killed her. While she was just a lowly human. Helpless one. Why is he praying to her now? Is he praying to her face? To her strength?

Lily-Rose aches to touch him. To get inside his head. To find out how to hurt him like how he hurt his mother. The last connection she had with her mother almost killed Lily-Rose in the process. Her mother’s memory of him was too unbearable. She faced death too many times. And Lily-Rose could feel it too real. Like she is the one who’s being stabbed.

You know, her hair is actually not that wavy in real life? She said, finally ready to face him.

He said something then turn around. She walks closer to him, let him watch the face he worshipped turned into two.

Adora. He whispered enough for Lily-Rose to hear.

ii.

Every time they met, the fucked.

Not like Lily-Rose hates it. He had her body under his control. But his emotions? She got it right under her palm.The more they touched, the more she reads his mind. And the more confused she is.

He wants her. Did he got confused to think that she is her mother?

She feels his pleasure every time he hit his release, spilling into her. But she also feels his guilt and shame. Should she be sorry for him?

Fucking no. He killed her mother. Tortured her. Killing so many people. He deserves none of her sorry.

“I let you taste your own sin, Gaius. I make you do what you love the most. Making sins.” Lily-Rose said what she always wanted to say.

And he lost control on top of her. Everything just spilled into her. His fear. His pleasure. His guilt. His shame. His anger. His jealousy. His desire.

He cried her name. Lily-Rose grips his back, crying on her own.

She wanted to hurt him, but little did she know that she is just her mother’s daughter. She feels his hurt when she stills in his head.

iii.

“You get what you want. Now leave me alone.” He said as he gets off from her.

Lily-Rose, spent and confused, staring at him unmoved as the male one get off from his bed and sit in the dark.

"You can fuck me. All you want. But never, never get into my head again." He hissed at her. She stops her sobbing and sits down, "I can't hurt you if I'm not inside your head."

"Well, congratulations. You just did. Does it make you feel better?"

Betrayal. Too much betrayal in his stare.

"No. Shockingly no."

"I spent centuries, fucking centuries, having women inside my head. Controlling me. You aren't welcome inside. This?" He points to his head, "You can't have it."

She can feel her hand trembles so hard. She never feels this way before except with her mom. He feels terrible in her touch. His mind is too... too much in her touch.

"What is this thing you feel inside your head, Gaius?" her question came as a whisper.

"Fuck! Just go! Just fucking go!" His words come out as a loud groan. Shockingly, she is not afraid.

Pity. She feels pity.

Lily-Rose just stares at his blood-red eyes, unmoved. A second later, she is alone in his room. Gaius Augustine is nowhere to be found.

iv.

"I was born in sunny July. In the middle of somewhere in Italy. My birth was a shock, and unimaginable. My mother had to give up walking for 6 painful months with me inside her belly. I was feasting her inside her belly."

Fast pregnancy for too-fast growing fetus like her. She almost killed her mother.

After their last encounter, she couldn't find Gaius everywhere for 3 months. She couldn't smell him anywhere besides her own body. Now he is here, in the middle of nowhere in Barcelona.

"How the fuck you find me?" Gaius turned around.

Her heart suddenly drops to his belly at his sight. Too much pain. It's too painful for him to look at her.

"Our minds were linked before. It took time, but I know how to spot you again." She said, walking closer and close their distance. She lifts her hand to his cheek, staring at those blue eyes for a sign of rejection before she places it on his cheek when he nods.

"Adora could find you?"

"Anywhere. She could find me anywhere."

He closes his eyes and she can instantly feel his emotions. Solace and fear. Which one is for her?

"I can feel Adora in your blood."

"Well, she is my mom?" Lily-Rose chuckles.

He opens his eyes, "I couldn't feel Adrian on you."

She sighs and pulls back her hand, "She fed me her blood. It's crucial to keep me alive and not turning into feral."

"Why don't they just kill you? I couldn't imagine Adrian will agree to see someone feeding on his Adora."

Gaius' word hit her hard.

After she was born, it took 2 years for her father to be able to hold her. The fear, the anxiety, and little hint of hatred filled those blue eyes for the first year of her life. Well, she almost killed the love of his life. She couldn’t blame him.

“I bet someone already had those ideas in their head, but mom wouldn’t let them.” She smiles. Gaius nods and pulls something out from his pocket.

A picture of her mother.

“This is the last solid piece of her that I have with me. You wanted to hurt me that badly? Here, take it.” He said as he offers the piece of paper into her hand. Lily-Rose stares at the picture. All it takes to hurt Gaius Augustine is Adora Raines. That’s why it’s so painful for him to look at her face.

Lily-Rose has her mother’s face.

Those brown eyes, sometimes turned red, full of compassion and love. The only pair of eyes that never looked at her like Lily-Rose is such an unimaginable thing. To her mother, Lily-Rose is just Lily-Rose. Her baby. Her little baby vampire.

She knows she is different as long as she remembered. Everyone has been having a very good job of reminding her. She wasn’t turned. She was conceived. Adrian Raines got her mother pregnant and voila, the most unimaginable thing popped up to be her.

“I was feeding on her for a long time. My body growing so slow. It took me 30 years to be fully grown, like an actual adult. Like this.” she said.

Gaius looks at her for a minute, eyes travels down from her head to her feet. “And you grow up to be beautiful.”

They spent their time mostly together. Barcelona, Milan, Moscow, Warsaw, Cannes. Mostly tangled in the sheet together. They fucked and fucked. Cried and cried. She let him. And he let her.

The touch of his skin and his emotion on her palms become too addictive to her. He always had new emotions with him every time they fuck. How can he handle that much emotions in one time?

Lily-Rose never tried to get inside his head again. Hurting him means hurting her. Hurting him means involving her mother. And she doesn’t want it. When his cock is inside her and it’s her name that he screamed through the night, she doesn’t want any other female hurting him in his head. No one but her.

“Do you have to touch someone to get inside their head?” He asked one night after their intimate session. Lily-Rose nods, “I couldn’t get into their head without touching like my mother did.”

“Is it painful? To have your power?”

For a second she sees worried in his eyes. “No when they are not hurting. Yes when they are hurting. But mostly I don’t really care about everyone’s pain. Just several people.”

Gaius holds her hand, kisses it before place it on his forehead. A second later, Lily-Rose bursts into tears. The loudest cry she ever cried. The hardest cry she ever made. Her sobs are chocking her painfully. Blood red eyes blazing through in the middle of New York’s midnight.

“Am I hurting you, Lily-Rose?” Gaius whispers as he kisses her tears.

vi.

She told him about her dreams. The one that took her brown eyes. And all other dreams about him inside. In exchange, he told her about his past from his point of view. None like the one written in history books.

They travel together in daylight. Even with his anti-sunshine technology, it still drained him a lot. Gaius still mesmerized by the fact that Lily-Rose doesn’t get affected by the sun. They walk by day and fuck by night.

After long fuck, drained and satisfied with their marks on each other, they just lay down and talk. About her world and his world.

Lily-Rose could feel a little less shame and guilt in his eyes. In exchange, she feels devotion and fear. But she doesn't complain as she feels that in her too. Maybe they linked their minds too strong. Maybe they fucked too much. She just doesn't care.

Gaius sees less of Adora in her. She just looks like Lily-Rose now. Maybe he realized too much Adrian's features on her face or maybe he had too much of her smell around him to think about anyone else.

They walk around, finding someone in need. She is a doctor. Sometimes she is Dr. Lily, sometimes she is Dr. Adrienne, and sometimes she is Dr. Anna. They changed their names in every place they visit. Only at night, they call themselves their real names. An endearment of intimacy.

Her mother knows. Adora knows that Gaius is fucking her daughter.

Once they accidentally met on a busy road in Berlin. It surprised him that he couldn't even realize her sooner. Gaius was too busy picking oranges for Lily-Rose when he saw her. Across the road, holding Adrian's hand. 4 of them exchanged glances for a minute before Adora and Adrian suddenly gone in the middle of the ocean of people.

"She said I smell like you." Lily-Rose chuckled as she sniffed herself.

He won't complain.

"What are you thinking?"

She whispers, stirring in her sleep before opening her eyes. Blood red eyes.

"Why don't you find out?" Gaius asked.

"You know I promised I won't get into your head unless it's urgent."

She did promise it.

The moonlight making her eyes glow more than usual. If he has to drown in blood, her eyes are the only blood he wants.

"It's okay. I give you permission. You won't hurt me." he guides her hand to his forehead and closes his eyes. A couple of minutes passed, and he opened his eyes to find her sobbing.

"What are you doing to me, Gaius?" She sobs.

"It will take longer than you could imagine, but please don't hurt me again. If you leave, it will be the greatest pain for me."

Her eyes glow in desperation. Yearning.

"I don't want to hurt you no more."

Gaius pulls her face to his, "Then stay with me."

God, whichever that is, finally granted his wish.

After 3 years of yearning, she kisses him.

They find what they looking for.

Solace. Purpose. Justification. Chance. Acceptance. Forgiveness.

#playchoices #bloodbound #gaius augustine #gaius #bb gaius #choices bb #gaius augustine x mc #gaius x mc

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justanotherrperwriter · 4 years ago

Text

The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 1

Freedom is something which should always be valued and cherished. Jacquelyn LeBlanc knew that well, having spent years in a mental hospital, seemed to only get worse rather than better. It took time, and it scared her when the doctors deemed her well enough to leave. The time came when Jacquelyn could manage her delusions with the use of medication. She was ready to leave; it wasn’t easy, trying to find the appropriate medications for her to take. She was schizophrenic, having had auditory and visual hallucinations since she was 16. She was now 22, having spent five years in the psychiatric ward isolated from the world. Her sister, Madeline, was a psychiatric doctor, and she worked hard to help Jacquelyn discern what was real and what was not. It was her sister which inspired Madeline to go into the medical field to help people who go through what Jacquelyn had. To give them support.

It was difficult for Jacquelyn’s family; they didn’t want to put her in a mental ward. However, it was difficult for them to provide the care she needed pertaining to her hallucinations. Jacquelyn’s hallucinations revolved around a fictional man she called Luciano Vargas, who she said loved her. She loved him. It was challenging when she had to be convinced Luciano wasn’t a tangible person and was a hallucination. It was these hallucinations and living in a delusional world which prompted her parents to take her to the mental hospital. Doctors would try to explain that Luciano wasn’t an actual person. He was a figment of her imagination. It often resulted in Jacquelyn having fits, insisting they were wrong. It took a long time of explaining, a lengthy time of working with her to get her to understand the truth. The five years were lengthy but productive, she could get help, and doctors found the medication which worked best for her.

It was the sense of freedom which allowed her to feel confident and more in control. She didn’t mind taking her medications, and she wore a necklace which would inform medical personnel of her condition and medications if something were to happen to her. Jacquelyn had traveled after they released her, promising her mother and father she would keep in contact daily. She always dreamed of traveling, and that’s what she did.

Her father was French and her mother was English, Jacquelyn had visited England and France first before she traveled more of Europe. She planned to go to Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. It was her way of trying to reclaim some of her life back; she was in control of where she was going and it helped her feel better. Sometimes she would have moments where she couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t, those moments scared her, and she would call Madeline who would talk her through how to distinguish details. It worked more often than not.

Jacquelyn stepped off the train she had taken from Paris to Rome, picking up her small suitcase and putting on her sunglasses. Rome was beautiful. She had only glimpsed photographs of it and dreamed of going herself. Now, she could be there. Pictures didn’t do it justice with just how beautiful it was. It stunned her for a few moments before she gathered herself and took her phone out for directions to her hotel. Jacquelyn hummed to herself, following the directions and taking in the sights. She told herself that she would shower and relax before she would explore and find a cafe or restaurant for a late lunch. She was staying at the Otium Hotel; it was near many of the tourist attractions and historic sites. They were activities which interested her.

It was a pleasant walk from the station to the hotel; the weather was pleasant, and she felt more at ease. It gave her a sense of calm to be on her own and not having to feel as though she burdened her parents. Jacquelyn always felt guilty for their hardships, always having to worry about her and her well-being. Her siblings cared for her and always came to visit her. It was a troublesome mental illness for the family, and she would never live on her own, that’s at least what the doctors said. These thoughts circled in her head before she tried to focus on the more positive details. She could travel, her parents agreed to that. She wouldn’t be allowed to go many places alone, but at least she could travel.

Jacquelyn checked into the hotel, thanking the receptionist and taking her suitcase to the highest floor. It was a beautiful room. Even though she was alone, her parents wanted to ensure she would feel more at ease. The room had a balcony which opened to behold the city stretching around the hotel. It was an incredible sight to behold. Jacquelyn let her long, light strawberry blonde hair out of her loose, messy bun. She figured a pleasant shower would do her good before she went out to get a meal and look around. Jackie was spending two weeks in Italy before she planned to travel to Germany. Her trip was a lengthy one, but she had plenty of medication and even her prescription and doctor’s note if she needed more.

Jacquelyn started the water for the shower, letting it warm as she undressed. She turned on soft music on Pandora, selecting a classical music station she had. It was something she loved much, appearing like a distant life when she would listen to it while studying. She had wanted to be a scientist, a chemist, but as her ability to concentrate decreased, that dream slipped further and further away. Jacquelyn had done her research, she knew that those like her had difficulty holding a job, she also knew the stigma surrounding it. She wished to return to her normal life but knew it would be impossible and implausible for her.

She let out a soft sigh when she stepped into the shower and felt the warm water flow over her shoulders, down her back. I can still strive to be the best I can, she thought to herself as she relaxed under the stream of water. It was that desire to strive to be her greatest which aided her; she didn’t want to make an enormous deal out of what she dealt with. Jacquelyn didn’t want to be treated differently from everyone else. She still dreamed of being capable of being loved and to experience a normal life. Someone will understand me one day, they’ll handle me, she thought as she washed her hair. She was a hopeful person, even if she sometimes had breakdowns or difficulties, she believed someone would help her.

Once she finished her shower, she changed into a light dress. The dress was breathable while being cute. Summer was just arriving, being early June, so the weather was not stifling, but it was pleasant. It was warmer than her home in Quebec, but she could handle it. She dried her hair and let it stay down, bringing a hair tie in case she needed it. Her hair had a natural curl to it, and she didn’t feel the need to style it much. Jacquelyn didn’t wear makeup either, she was going out for dinner and a little exploring, not boyfriend hunting. She had her purse and soon left her hotel, asking the receptionist for recommendations for places to eat. The receptionist recommended a bistro that was a 15-minute walk from the hotel. Not that Jacquelyn minded. She thanked the receptionist and followed the directions he gave her.

The bistro was pleasant and cozy, not crowded. She greeted the waitress and requested a seat outside; it was too pleasant to sit indoors. The waitress led her to a covered deck area where she sat at a table with a menu. Jacquelyn relaxed and looked over the menu, deciding on a white wine and a seafood pasta dish. She thanked the waitress and hummed to herself as she watched people walk down the street, talking with one another, some hand in hand. Jacquelyn smiled a bit to herself as she watched people while sipping her wine once the waitress brought it for her. She didn’t take much notice to the three men who ended up sitting at the table near her. There weren’t many on the terrace since many were concentrated on wine tasting while it seemed like those on the terrace were more interested in enjoying the food and relaxing.

It caught Jacquelyn off guard when she took notice of the group sitting beside her. One man looked too familiar. It made her blood run cold, making her question if she was seeing an actual person or if her hallucinations returned. She hoped it was just a strange coincidence and not that medicine stopped working. She felt herself pale, able to catch the one man being referred to as Luciano. Oh, dear god, she hoped this was just a nightmare. Jacquelyn looked away as one noticed her staring at them, looking flustered and embarrassed as she focused on her wine. She glanced up as one of them got up and pulled a seat out at her table. Shit, shit, shit, stay calm. You’re not crazy, he’s a real person... Probably, hopefully. Don’t do anything stupid. She thought to herself in a panic as she looked up.

“My apologies, I did not mean to stare.” She mumbled. Her Italian was decent, but she had plenty of time to focus on learning new concepts that didn’t require precise attention like chemistry did. That included languages.

“I’m wondering what prompted you to stare, Signorina.” He responded, looking amused with how flustered the poor girl was. He had auburn hair, and piercing violet eyes. It was too familiar to her. Though his eyes were much harsher, more mocking, than the ones she remembered.

“It was unintentional, signore. I meant nothing by it.” She told him, sipping her wine as she glanced up at him, the waitress returning with her pasta dish.

“I wasn’t concerned with you meaning any ill will. Perhaps some company would do you good, hm?” He gazed at the waitress, “Add her bill to mine, we will sit here with her.” He told the waitress. She seemed shaken by the man’s demand but didn’t argue with him.

“That isn’t necessary.” Jacquelyn tried to argue, but the man stopped her, giving her a smile. It made her feel uneasy. She didn’t know why, but something just seemed off with the man. “Please, I thought you were someone I knew once.”

“I have decided we are joining you and there is no changing that.” He reproached, used to having everything he wanted without argument or questioning. He was a wealthy and powerful man, many knew to do as he said. “Someone you once knew? And what happened? Did he break your pretty little heart?”

His words sounded mocking to Jacquelyn. “Not exactly… he wasn’t… entirely… real?” Her voice hitched. She didn’t enjoy talking about it. She was ashamed of how long she had been delusional, believing to be in love with a nonexistent man for so many years.

The man didn’t appear too phased, though questioning of her. “He wasn’t real? What is that supposed to mean?” He pressed, leaning in towards her. He was taking a bit of enjoyment in her uneasiness. He was a sadistic person, so it was in his personality.

“Stop messing with the girl, Luciano.” One of the other men said. He spoke with a German accent, and she glanced at him as the other two joined them at the table.

“It is okay, he asked a question, and even if the answer isn’t pleasant, I wasn’t raised to be impolite not to answer.” Jacquelyn replied, twirling her hair. Why did she have to explain herself? She didn’t want to and yet this man, this Luciano, was cornering her.

“I won’t force you to answer, Fraulein. And he shouldn’t either.” The German chided, much to the annoyance of the Italian man. “However, we are being impolite for not introducing ourselves after barging in on your meal. I am Lutz Beilschmidt.”

“Flavio Vargas.” The third man said cheerfully, giving her a sweet smile. He seemed like the nicest of the three.

“Luciano Vargas. And I believe I should be able to ask her questions, she was staring at me and not you two.” He said casually, smiling lazily at her.

“Merci.” Jacquelyn whispered to Lutz before looking at the three. “I’m Jacquelyn LeBlanc.” She replied, setting her wineglass down. “And if you’ll forgive me, I’ve had a lengthy day and I would much like to enjoy my meal and wine.” She said as politely as she could, despite her becoming annoyed with the distraction and interruption. “And, my mental state is no one’s business and concern. So regardless of your questions, you will not appreciate the answer.”

“So you’re crazy.” Luciano smirked, he was enjoying this more than he should as she prickled. He watched her gaze fall.

“I’m not crazy, I had no control over my hallucinations or delusions. My apologies, but it is uncanny how alike you look to the Luciano I once envisioned. He’s gone and I’m free, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Why focus on the false one, when the genuine one is here in front of you?” He mused. It was his tactic to break down unsuspecting women, luring them in and trapping them. It was what he was doing with Jacquelyn, breaking her down, taunting her. “Our food will arrive soon, we can continue our conversation, and then we will all eat.” He remarked, he had to be in control. He was in control of the situation, and he could tell she was on edge.

Luciano planned to have fun with this one. He would find a way to break her, even if she was already a broken person, Luciano wanted complete control over her. He planned to use her delusion against her. That would be the key to her undoing, convincing her that her delusion meant she was supposed to be with him. She was supposed to be his. He planned to make her nothing more than his toy for his own enjoyment until he tired of her.

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somescribblestoperuse · 5 years ago

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A moment in history to create change for the better

As I fly out of Phnom Penh, the sun sets, figuratively and literally, on my four-month Cambodian adventure, cut short by two-thirds. The goodbyes were short and sweet - done on purpose as I’ve learnt my weakness over years gone by (tears are usually guaranteed). Even though anxieties and stress and adrenaline have been running high this week, at the same time, it’s not total despondency. It’s bittersweet as I look forward to seeing family and friends. I feel hopeful there is still more to come for my story in this wonderful country and with those I’ve met. Just under different circumstances - at least I would hope…

Within 4 days I’ve packed up my life (for the second time in 4 months), as we were told to return home ASAP. I’m returning to a country full of people that have gone into a state of panic (which I don’t think I’m quite prepared for alongside re-entry shock). But in amongst all the chaos, I realise we really are so privileged as Australians. We have a government that I have enough confidence in to intervene as necessary to get us home, if anything went wrong. I have money to fund my return. I have a support network of family and friends who will provide food, supplies and shelter as needed. While I acknowledge there are many within Australia that will experience their own hardships, especially with jobs jeopardised, we will recover in time - in terms of economy, jobs, health care and otherwise. Our country is developed enough to create innovative solutions and evolve and adapt accordingly, if we focus on the opportunities.

I can’t say the same about any of these points for Cambodia. Most of all, I have serious concerns about the impact this pandemic will have on the Khmer people. Foreigners (Barang) are leaving in hordes. Tourism will die down indefinitely affecting many businesses and essentially the livelihood of many. There is a fine line between those who do and don’t live in poverty. For the average tuk tuk driver, a small decline in their daily income can be the difference between eating or not. For the average family, one health scare - in a country with essentially a non-existent health care system - can be the difference between their children attending school or dropping out to earn money for the family.

It’s a scary time for everyone indeed. But is there any silver lining? I’m an optimistic person and would like to say there is. However, this once again may be coming from a place of privilege - where I don’t have many immediate worries apart from getting myself home and finding another job using a skill set that is fairly adaptable.

So that silver lining: I’d summarize my hope to be that we learn greater awareness, respect and empathy for our fellow humans and this world as a whole. For many that contract COVID-19, they will recover. But that’s not the point - it’s having an awareness of the potential impact on others and doing something to help them. It’s about not fighting with someone in the middle of Woolworths for toilet paper but rather respecting each other and not letting fear dominate. It’s about having empathy for others and realising that we are incredibly connected and social creatures, who rely on one another, especially mentally as we all go into isolation. We have already seen a wonderful example of the good side of humanity come out of Italy, with people gathering on their balconies to sing and dance along to music blasted throughout the area. And those who are volunteering in their community to buy food and supplies for the more vulnerable. And many more examples I’m sure.

This empathy needs to extend outside one’s own country. We need to respect the fragility of this globalised world we live in. If we don’t have empathy and an understanding of the world beyond our borders, we will continue to be baffled and severely affected by any future situations like Coronavirus because our scope was too narrow. We will also never fully understand the impressive impact we can make as a connected global community.

What do I mean by this? Let’s look at the example already coming out of Venice - the canals are clear and wildlife is returning for the first time in a long time as a result of reduced tourism. This has happened in the space of weeks. Sure it’s taken a global crisis but we know it’s possible to create change - we just need to want it enough and to finally take action. It doesn’t have to take a global crisis to implement systemised measures. You might say, ‘yeah but human lives are at stake because of COVID-19 and that’s why we’ve done something about it’. But the thing is human lives will continue to be at stake as a result of environmental and climate change disasters. That’s what we learnt the hard way during the Australian bushfires this past summer. Let’s continue to learn from what’s happening at the moment. In Australia, we had the opportunity to take a stand after our bushfire crisis but we didn’t. Let’s not miss the opportunity again.

As a global community, we can make changes and a positive impact, together. Whether it’s for the environment, looking out for the mental wellbeing of others, or improving the systems we have in place for the vulnerable and underprivileged in our society who are severely affected by incidents and crisis. We just need respect, awareness and empathy for our fellow humans and the world as a whole.

For me, I like to think I have grown in these ways over the last four months in Cambodia but even moreso over the last few days (which you would hope considering I’m doing an awful lot of preaching right now). We were told to pack our things and leave. Don’t say goodbye to everyone. Don’t wait a couple of weeks. Just leave. I can’t even imagine being in a more vulnerable situation, such as an asylum seeker or refugee escaping their country because of war or famine or whatever it may be. Unimaginable fear with no place to go. It’s a position I hope I never have to be in. As I sit on the first leg of my flight home, I’m more grateful than ever before of both my life and the country I live in.

So what’s next? On a personal level, I’m looking forward to two weeks isolation, which may sound strange (and maybe don’t quote me on that in 5 days). I’ll need the time to recuperate, reflect and take those first steps to set myself up again. Also, can’t complain about some Netflix and couch time (again, fully aware of privilege here).

On a global scale, let’s get through these next few weeks and months together. Don’t let fear dominate. Be kind. This will become a significant moment in history with potential to change the world as we know it. Let’s not miss the opportunity to learn from it and create change for the better.

#corona #bekind #covid19

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hazardville · 5 years ago

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Fuck You Facebook

So, in case anyone’s seeing this without coming here from my Facebook: Facebook removed this post because it was flagged as spam. I’m preserving it here because this information should be shared and Facebook’s attempts to obscure the sharing of health information should be condemned, widely and publicly. Enjoy. This is a long post addressing two underlying issues with the current response to the pandemic that leave me concerned. It’s the longest post I’ve ever written. The Medium version of this post (link below) has been viewed 1.2M in less than the last 24 hours as of 3/17/20. For those of you not taking action, or believing the pandemic to be “over hyped”, you can make fun of me as much as you want now or when this is over. You can make me the subject of memes and post it everywhere. I will pose for the picture. I am not trying to convince you, but I do feel compelled to share information that I deem critical to all of us, which is why I am posting this at all. WHY YOU SHOULD TAKE 5 MINUTES TO READ AND CONSIDER THE INFORMATION I AM SHARING: As of 3/15/20 at 9 am PST this post has been shared over 50k times since it was posted 2 days ago. So a lot of people find value in the post and although it's a long read, I believe you will find this information valuable too. For those of you who don’t know me well, I am analytical and metered. I don’t freak out nor do I respond emotionally. I also don’t post a bunch of bullshit or political or controversial stuff on Facebook. I founded and am CEO of a successful software company that provides SaaS based data, analytics, and dashboards to recruiting departments at companies we all know. As you would expect, I am data driven and fact based. Before founding my company I held executive roles leading very large recruiting teams at some of the world's fastest growing companies such as Starbucks and Google. At Google I was fortunate enough to report to Sheryl Sandberg before she took the Facebook COO role. I was a Chemical Engineering major in college and have a business degree from a top undergraduate business school. I am not one for hyperbole or histrionics. My bullshit factor is close to zero. I share all this personal information only to help solidify that this post may be worth reading and sharing with others. I would encourage you to forward or share this post at your discretion. Many people do not understand what is happening with the pandemic to the degree required which is why I took the time to write this and share this on Facebook. Now that I've gotten the introduction out of the way, here are two issues I want to bring to everyone’s attention. ISSUE ONE: SOCIAL NORMS ARE POWERFUL MOTIVATORS AND GETTING IN THE WAY OF PEOPLE TAKING THE RIGHT STEPS IN RESPONSE TO THE PANDEMIC: One of the current problems with addressing the pandemic is the social pressures of taking action today. It's awkward, and feels like an over-reaction. The reason it feels like an overreaction is that most people OVERWEIGHT the currently reported cases and inherently UNDERWEIGHT the mathematics of how the virus is spreading and what will happen in about 30 days time. This is because our brains tend to think linearly as opposed to logarithmically. It’s the same reason many people don’t save for retirement or understand compound interest. To create a new social norm, human beings like to see behavior modeled. This serves as a signal that says, “oh, someone else is doing it so I should do it also.” SO HERE IS A SOCIAL BENCHMARK FOR REFERENCE - THIS IS WHAT I’VE DONE FOR MY FAMILY TO DATE: I have already isolated my family. We have canceled EVERYTHING. We have canceled previously scheduled doctor visits. Social get togethers. No play dates. Normal routine meetings. Everything has been canceled. It's difficult and socially awkward. Some of you think I’m crazy, but I’m doing it not because I am afraid, but because I am good at math (more on that in part 2). I had to have my 16 year old daughter quit her job coaching junior gymnasts at the local gym, with one day’s notice and also tell my kids they can't attend youth group at church. Both of those were tough discussions. I told a very close friend he shouldn’t stay at my house this weekend even though he was planning to and had booked his flight from the Bay Area. I canceled another dear friend’s visit for later this month to go snowboarding on Mt Bachelor. We are not eating out. Our kids are already doing online school so we don’t have to make changes there. I would not send my kids to school even if they were in public or private school. We have eliminated all non-essential contact with other people. We will only venture out to grocery shop when required. We will still go outside to parks, go mountain biking, hiking, and recreate to keep ourselves sane and do other things as a family, just not with other people. We have stocked up on food and have a supply for ~2 months. We have stocked up on other goods that if depleted would create hardship, like medicines and feminine hygiene products. We have planned for shortages of essential items. THE REASON I HAVE CHOSEN THIS ROUTE FOR MY FAMILY IS MULTI FACETED: 1. Although my family is considered low risk (I’m 49 in good health, Angi is 46 and in good health, and our kids are 14 and 16), we must assume that the healthcare system cannot help us, because the hospitals will become overwhelmed very quickly. Most American hospitals will become overwhelmed in approximately 30 days unless something changes. More on this in part 2 below. So although we are in great health and unlikely to become gravely ill, the risk is greater if you do not have access to the medical care that you need. This is something for everyone to consider. As a society we are accustomed to having access to the best medical care available. Our medical system will be overwhelmed unless we practice social distancing at scale. That said, the medical teams in Italy are seeing an alarming number of cases from people in their 40s and 50s. Triage tents are already going up in the parking lots at many hospitals close to the epicenters in the United States. 2. It’s not a matter of if social distancing will take place, it’s a matter of when. This is because social distancing is the only way to stop the virus today. As I will explain in part 2 below, starting now is FAR more effective than starting even 2 days from now or tomorrow. This has been proven by Italy and China (and soon to be France and other European countries who have been slow to respond.) [updated as of 3/14 France is now on lockdown mandated by the government]. Wuhan went on lockdown after roughly 400 cases were identified (and they had access to testing that America has systematically failed to do well to date). The US already has more than 4 times this number of known infected cases as Wuhan did when it was shut down, and our citizens are far more mobile and therefore spreading the virus more broadly when compared to Wuhan. Yet our response is tepid at best. If hand washing and “being smart” were sufficient Italy would not be in crisis. So I pray the draconian measures are coming from our government, because they are required to stop the spread of the virus. It’s better to start sooner than later as the cost is actually far greater if we wait. I pray they close all schools and non-essential services the way that Italy and China have done. 3. Spreading the virus puts those in the high-risk category at much greater risk. This is the moral argument. It’s a strong argument because there are only two ways, as of today, that the virus can be stopped: let it run its course and infect 100s of millions of people, or social distancing. There is no other way today. If you don’t practice social distancing, people downstream from you that you transmit the virus to will die, and many will suffer. 4. The risk of infection is increasing exponentially, because the quantity of infected people, most who will not show symptoms, is doubling every three days. So the longer you wait to self-isolate, the greater the chance of you or someone you love becoming infected and then you infecting others because more of the population is becoming infected. There are twice as many infected people today as there was on Tuesday. 5. The virus is already in your town. It’s everywhere. Cases are typically only discovered when someone gets sick enough to seek medical attention. This is important as it typically takes ~5 days to START showing ANY symptoms. Here’s the math: For every known case there are approximately 50 unknown cases. This is because if I become sick, I infect several people today, and they infect a few people each tomorrow (as do I), and the total count of infected people doubles every 3 days until I get so sick I get hospitalized or get tested and become a “known case”. But in the time it takes me to figure out I am sick 50 others downline from me now have the virus. So every third day the infection rate doubles until I get so sick that I realize I have the virus an am hospitalized or otherwise tested. Harvard and Massachusetts General Hospital estimate that there are 50x more infections than known infections as reported (citation below). The implication of this is that the virus is already “everywhere” and spreading regardless if your city has zero, few or many reported cases. So instead of the 1573 reported known cases today there are likely 78,650 cases, at least, in the United States. Which will double to 157,300 by this Sunday. And this will double to 314,600 cases by this coming Wednesday. So in less than 1 week the number of total infected in the United States will quadruple. This is the nature of exponential math. It’s actually unfortunate that we are publishing the figures for known cases as it diverts attention away from more important numbers (like the range of estimated actual cases). [Update as of 3/15/20 - I've been sent more research that may add clarity to the ACTUAL cases vs CONFIRMED cases and will update this post with any conclusions] 6. Some people cannot, or will not, practice social distancing for a variety of reasons and will continue to spread the virus to many people. So everyone else must start today. The reasons above are why I have begun to practice social distancing. It’s not easy. But you should do it too. The hospitals will be at capacity and there are not enough ventilators. You will hear a lot about this issue in the coming few weeks... the shortage of ventilators. ISSUE TWO: MANY PEOPLE ARE FOCUSED ON THE WRONG NUMBERS: Yes, the virus only kills a small percentage of those afflicted. Yes, the flu kills 10s of thousands of people annually. Yes, 80% of people will experience lightweight symptoms with COVID19. Yes the mortality rate of COVID19 is relatively low (1-2%). All of this true, but is immaterial. They are the wrong numbers to focus on... The nature of exponential math is that the infection rates start slowly, and then goes off like a bomb and overwhelms the hospitals. You will understand this math clearly in the next section if you do the short math exercise. Evergreen hospital in Seattle is already in triage. I have heard credible reports from people on the ground that they are already becoming overwhelmed. And the bomb won't really go off for a few more days. Probably by Wednesday, March 18th (next week). In just a few days from now we will hear grave reports from Seattle hospitals. [update as of 3/15/20 - see the comments section below for an update from a staff member at Evergreen Hospital in Kirkland, WA] You should assume the virus is everywhere at this point, even if you have no confirmed cases in your area. YOU SHOULD DO THIS SIMPLE 2 MINUTE MATH EXERCISE (NO REALLY TAKE TWO MINUTES AND DO IT): To further understand exponential growth, take the number of confirmed cases in your area and multiply by 10 (or 50 if you believe Harvard and Massachusetts General estimations) to account for the cases that are not yet confirmed. If you have no confirmed cases choose a small number. I’d suggest 10 cases in your city, if no cases are yet reported. But you can use whatever number you like. This number of infected people doubles every ~3 days as the infection spreads. So literally take your number, and multiply by 2. Then do it again. Then do it again. Then do it again. Do this multiplication exercise 10 times in total. 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 x (the number of estimated infections in your city today (not just the reported cases)). This result is the estimate for the actual cases in your area 30 days from now. The math will take 30 seconds to complete with a calculator and it’s worth doing the math to see how it grows. This end number is the number of cases in your city 30 days from today if a large percentage of the population do not practice social distancing. 2 to the 10th power is 1024. When something doubles 10 times, it's the same as multiplying by 1024. The infection rate of the virus doubles every 3 days. In thirty days there will be 1,024 times the number of infected people in your area as there is today if your community does not immediately put social distancing into practice. One thousand and twenty four times as many infected people as there is today, in just 30 days. Next, divide the final number (the scary big one) you just calculated by the current population of your city and you will be able to get the percentage of people THAT YOU KNOW PERSONALLY who will be infected 30 days from now. Next take 15% (multiply by 0.15) of that final 30 day number of total infected people (the number you calculated by multiplying by 2 ten times). This will provide an estimate of the serious cases which will require hospitalization, and compare it to the number of beds and ventilators available at your local hospital. Google the "number of beds" and the name of your local hospital now. It takes 2 seconds and the number of beds is easy to find. 65% of beds are already occupied by patients unrelated to the coronavirus. St Charles in Bend, Oregon where I live, has 226 beds and the town is roughly 100,000 people. Most hospitals have on average, 40 or fewer ventilators. 5% of patients require ICU treatment. There are very few ICU beds compared to regular beds in hospitals. There are very few negative pressure areas in any hospital to deal with the containment of airborne diseases. These numbers you just calculated are the Big Problem: Too many patients, not enough beds, and a serious shortage of ventilators (the biggest problem) if we don't immediately begin social distancing. More on this biggest problem related to the insufficient quantity of ventilators is below. COUNTRIES THAT GET OVERWHELMED WILL HAVE A MUCH GREATER MORTALITY RATE BECAUSE THEY WON’T BE ABLE TO ADEQUATELY CARE FOR THE SICK. And by sick I mean not just coronavirus patients. Your son or daughter that needs acute care surgery this May for his badly broken leg will be attended to by an orthopedic doctor that has been working at maximum capacity and working 18 hour shifts for 7 days every week for 6 weeks because it was required to care for all the coronavirus patients at her hospital. Or the orthopedic surgeon will be sick with the virus and your son or daughter will be operated on in a tent in the hospital parking lot by a non-expert or a member of the National Guard. Your elderly Mom that has diabetes and goes into acute distress next month may not receive ANY medical care because the doctors are consumed and have to prioritize patients based on triage guidelines based on success rate probabilities. Your sibling’s family that are all injured in a terrible car crash in June will have diminished care. If one of them needs a ventilator there will be none available because all of them will be in use by critical coronavirus patients. Your young friend with cancer and a compromised immune system from treatment will succumb even though the cancer was curable and the treatment was working, because their body was too fragile to combat the coronavirus due to the chemotherapy and they couldn't receive the customized, acute care required due to the hospital being overwhelmed. All of the above is currently happening in Italy, who had the same number of infections we have today just 2 weeks ago. You must start social distancing today. The count of actual virus infections doubles every ~3 days. The news and government agencies are lagging in their response. So we hear that the US only has 1573 cases today (3/12/20) [update as of 3/15/20: 3115 confirmed cases), ( see https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/) and it doesn't seem like a lot. It would be better to report the estimated actual cases, since reported cases don’t tell us much. However, we know from China that the actual number of cases are at least an order of magnitude greater than the reported cases, because people get infected and do not display symptoms. In math, an "order of magnitude" means ten times difference, or put another way, a factor of 10. 100 is 10 times greater than 10, so it's an order of magnitude greater. Harvard Medical School / Massachusetts General Hospital just released their estimate (recording is here: https://externalmediasite.partners.org/Mediasite/Play/53a4003de5ab4b4da5902f078744435a1d) that the actual cases are 50x greater than the reported cases. So we likely have 75,000 cases in the United States already. The number of reported cases is not that important. But let’s assume the current number of cases is only 10,000 ACTUAL cases in the United States just to be conservative and model out what will happen: If we don’t stop the virus from spreading, in 30 days we will have 2 to the 10th power more cases of infected people because the infection count doubles every 3 days (the virus doubles every 3 days and there are 10, 3 day periods in 30 days). The math: 2 to the 10th power means 1,024 times as many cases as we have today (2 times 2 repeated 10 times). This number is a catastrophically big problem for all of us: We will have 10 million+ actual cases (10,000 actual cases today x 1,024) in the United States in just 30 days’ time if we continue without extreme social distancing. 10 million people with the virus. And it will keep doubling every 3 days unless we practice social distancing. 15% of cases require significant medical attention, which means that 1.5 million people will require significant medical attention if 10 million people get infected (15% of 10 Million total infections = 1.5 million people requiring hospitalization). 1.5 million hospitalizations is way more than we have beds for at hospitals in the United States. And 65% of all beds are already occupied in our hospitals. But many patients (5%) with the virus need ICU beds, not just any old hospital bed. Only about 10% of hospital beds are considered intensive care beds. So we will have a huge bed shortage, but that is not the biggest problem, as we can erect temporary ICU shelters and bring in more temporary beds, as Italy has already done, and California and Washington hospitals have already done. Evergreen Hospital in Seattle has already erected temporary triage tents in the parking lot as of 3/13/20. All regular beds are full at Evergreen Hospital as of yesterday. Once the government of China, Norway, and Italy came to understand this math, they reacted accordingly and shut EVERYTHING down. [update as of 3/15/20 now France has done the same lockdown]. Extreme social distancing is the only response available to stop the virus today. The United States is not responding well nor are other countries like the UK. Countries that do not respond well will pay a much larger, catastrophic price. But hospital beds are not the big problem. The lack of ventilators is the big problem. Most estimates peg the ventilators in the United States at roughly 100,000 to 150,000 units. See the study from last month: http://www.centerforhealthsecurity.org/resources/COVID-19/200214-VentilatorAvailability-factsheet.pdf The primary and most serious comorbid (comorbid is a medical term that means co-existing or happening at the same time) condition brought on by the Coronavirus is something called bilateral interstitial pneumonia which requires ventilators for treatment of seriously ill patients. So if 1.5M people of the 10 million infected 30 days from now require hospital care (15% of the 10M estimated total infections), 1.3M may not get the care that they need because we don’t have enough ventilators, beds, and ICU beds in the United States. And remember, this is only if ALL OF US EFFECTIVELY start social distancing by April 11th (30 days from today). This increases the mortality rate significantly. BUT IF WE START EXTREME SOCIAL DISTANCING BY MARCH 23 (12 days from original writing), WE AVOID OVER 1.4 MILLION PEOPLE GETTING CRITICALLY ILL AND OVERWHELMING THE HOSPITALS: If everyone takes extreme measures to social distance, and the United States can dramatically reduce the spread of the virus 12 days from now, the math is very different, as the exponential growth will only be 2 to the 4th power (12 days divided by the doubling rate of every 3 days equals the exponent of 4): 2 x 2 x 2 x 2 = 16 So instead of 10 Million cases in the United States if we wait 30 days, if we act 18 days sooner, we will have only 160,000 cases (16 times the estimated 10,000 actual cases as of today), of which 15% are likely to require hospitalization. This is 24,000 critical patients (a huge difference compared to 1.5 million acute patients). The difference between taking extreme measures now, versus waiting even a few days, is very large due to how exponents work in math. THE OUTCOME IS EVEN BETTER IF WE TAKE ACTION IN THE NEXT 6 DAYS: If the vast majority of the population self isolates and implements social distancing in only 6 days from now the exponential math is 2 to the 2nd power (6 days divided by the 3 days it takes the virus to double means the exponent is only 2). In math this is "two squared". 2 x 2 = 4 Multiplied by the estimated 10,000 ACTUAL cases as of today (3/12/20) that means only 40,000 total cases will develop, 15% of which may be critical which is 6,000 critical patients. This is why you should share this post broadly. If people begin social distancing in the next 6 days it will greatly reduce the impact on all of us. It's why they say a "post goes viral". SOCIAL DISTANCING WILL REDUCE THE FINANCIAL IMPACT TO YOU AND YOUR FAMILY: Finally, the longer everyone waits to practice significant social distancing the greater the economic hardship will be on all of us. Lost jobs. Mortgage defaults. Closed businesses. Bankruptcies. All will be minimized if you start social distancing today. Some of the reasons the economic impacts will be reduced are worth mentioning: If we stop the virus now the overall duration of the outbreak will be far shorter. The stock market will normalize more quickly and recover more quickly. Businesses and people will be able to survive a shorter duration outbreak vs a longer duration outbreak. More companies will avoid bankruptcy if we begin to practice social distancing now. This is a big financial reason to begin social distancing if you are employed by any company: if companies see that the virus is being slowed, they will be less likely to conduct layoffs. You will be more likely to be laid off or experience a job-related event if we don’t practice social distancing immediately. As an HR executive, I’ve been involved in many, many layoffs. It’s the last thing companies want to do. But if they see that the pandemic will be shorter lived vs long and drawn out, they are less likely to make the permanent decision of laying off staff. The overall economic impact that hits your bank account will be greater if you wait or you don’t practice social distancing. This is why Norway acted now, because it’s less economic impact to take drastic measures early than to do them later, and it saves a lot of lives and suffering by doing so. And Norway has only one confirmed death as of this writing. Many people have suggested they want to support local restaurants and other businesses, who have seen sales drop by 50-90%. Stopping by and visiting them won't save them. What will save them is social distancing and what you do after the pandemic is over. If you are concerned, call them and buy a gift certificate over the phone. START TODAY. I CAN’T STRESS THIS ENOUGH. YOU MUST START TODAY. Finally, the article that I posted yesterday written by Tomas Pueyo has been read 30M times in the last few days and has been updated with new information. It’s worth reading again. Here’s that link. https://medium.com/@tomaspueyo/coronavirus-act-today-or-people-will-die-f4d3d9cd99ca Other up to date data I frequently consult regarding the pandemic is here: https://www.worldometers.info/coronavirus/ I hope this is helpful and useful. My brain focuses on the math and I try and be fact based in my analysis and interpretation of how I should respond. THERE IS MORE INFORMATION IN THE COMMENTS BELOW WORTH READING AND I WILL BE UPDATING THIS POST, AND THE COMMENTS, WITH MORE INFORMATION, (AS OPPOSED TO CREATING NEW POSTS). MY FINAL PARTING THOUGHT: Please share or forward this post at your discretion. If everyone shares this post and two of your friends share this post and so on, we use the power of exponential math to work in our favor, which seems appropriate given the virus is using that same exponential math against us. HOW YOU CAN REALLY HELP: If you know people who have large numbers of followers, or people in the media, please leverage your personal relationship with them and ask them to amplify this post by sharing it or the Medium Post (link below) For people not on Facebook you can email or text the link. It would be useful to get the post on Twitter and LinkedIn by sharing the Medium post. If you know people in government this fact-based post may help inform them to make the best decisions. It's time for us humans to go on the offensive against the virus. We must fight back. There is only one way to do so: Social Distancing. Do it today. NOTE: Anyone, including the media, is free to use this post, any related content, in all or in part, for any purpose, in any format, with no attribution required. Please direct message me if you have other ideas for how to raise awareness. Finally, I can no longer keep up with friend requests given how much this post has been shared. To receive updates or follow me, please use the "Follow" button on Facebook. 3/16/20: I am preparing a second post, now that 4 days have gone by since the first post. To receive it please follow me on FB. I can not keep up with the friend requests. https://medium.com/@Jason_Scott_Warner/the-sober-math-everyone-must-understand-about-the-pandemic-2b0145881993 https://www.facebook.com/jason.scott.warner/posts/10163742243430144

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newstfionline · 5 years ago

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Headlines

Work From Home Is Here to Stay (The Atlantic) “Are you still working, doo-doo?” This is the interruption that the Stanford University economist Nick Bloom hears several times a day as his 4-year-old daughter runs into his office and summons him to play by using his nickname. But the blurring of work and home lives might not be just a temporary side effect of the pandemic. Many Americans were already couch laborers before this all started. Prior to the coronavirus outbreak, about 29 percent of college graduates worked from home at least some of the time. Even once coronavirus restrictions are eased, Bloom and others expect the proportion of Americans working from home to grow. “I could see it being totally standard for jobs that can be performed at home to allow two days at home” per week, he told me. Companies have been reluctant to allow employees to work from home because of inertia and entrenched norms, says Julia Pollak, the labor economist at ZipRecruiter. But the pandemic has forced nearly two-thirds of Americans to work remotely, making it clear just how much work can get done from home, even despite the presence of children. When people get certain perks from their jobs, they tend to value those perks more than they used to, according to research by Monica Kirkpatrick Johnson, a sociologist at Washington State University. Workers might resist being yanked back into offices after they’ve enjoyed the luxury of never changing out of their pajamas.

33 million have sought US unemployment aid since virus hit (AP) Nearly 3.2 million laid-off workers applied for unemployment benefits last week as the business shutdowns caused by the viral outbreak deepened the worst U.S. economic catastrophe in decades. Roughly 33.5 million people have now filed for jobless aid in the seven weeks since the coronavirus began forcing millions of companies to close their doors and slash their workforces. That is the equivalent of one in five Americans who had been employed back in February, when the unemployment rate had reached a 50-year low of just 3.5%.

As Hunger Swells, Food Stamps Become a Partisan Flash Point (NYT) As a padlocked economy leaves millions of Americans without paychecks, lines outside food banks have stretched for miles, prompting some of the overwhelmed charities to seek help from the National Guard. New research shows a rise in food insecurity without modern precedent. Among mothers with young children, nearly one-fifth say their children are not getting enough to eat, according to a survey by the Brookings Institution. The reality of so many Americans running out of food is an alarming reminder of the economic hardship the pandemic has inflicted. But despite their support for spending trillions on other programs to mitigate those hardships, Republicans have balked at a long-term expansion of food stamps—a core feature of the safety net that once enjoyed broad support but is now a source of a highly partisan divide. Democrats want to raise food stamp benefits by 15 percent for the duration of the economic crisis, arguing that a similar move during the Great Recession reduced hunger and helped the economy. But Republicans have fought for years to shrink the program, saying that the earlier liberalization led to enduring caseload growth and a backdoor expansion of the welfare state.

Fears of ‘second wave’ hang over coronavirus successes (AP) Britain was expected to extend its nationwide lockdown on Thursday, but the European country hit hardest by the coronavirus plans cautiously to ease some restrictions on economic and social activity next week as it tries to reopen without sparking a devastating second wave of infections. Authorities in many countries are drawing up plans for how to cope with a resurgence in outbreaks even as they slowly work to reopen businesses and resume other activity halted to combat the pandemic. In Germany, which has begun to emerge from lockdown, authorities have begun drawing up plans to cope with any resurgence of the virus and experts in Italy doubled down on finding new victims and tracing their contacts. France, which hasn’t yet eased its lockdown, has already worked up a “reconfinement plan” in the event of a new wave.

Trump Vetoes Iran War Powers Resolution (Foreign Policy) On Wednesday, U.S. President Donald Trump vetoed a bipartisan war powers resolution that would have required congressional approval to carry out military strikes against Iran, the latest in an ongoing battle between the White House and Capitol Hill over war powers authorities. Wednesday’s veto is not the first time that Trump has batted away congressional attempts to restrict his ability to use military force without a legislative greenlight. Lawmakers advanced similar measures to stop U.S. support for the Saudi-led coalition in Yemen’s war last year, which Trump also vetoed. But the lawmakers backing the latest resolution are undeterred, saying they’re playing the long game and inching their way closer to getting war powers authorities on the books.

The Irish give back (NYT) More than 170 years ago, the Choctaw Nation sent $170 to starving Irish families during the potato famine. A sculpture in County Cork commemorates the generosity of the tribe, itself poor. In recent decades, ties between Ireland and the Choctaws have grown. Now hundreds of Irish people are repaying that old kindness, giving to a charity drive for two Native American tribes suffering in the Covid-19 pandemic.

Poland postpones presidential election (Foreign Policy) A controversial presidential election in Poland, due to take place on Sunday, has now been postponed. The ruling Law and Justice party had pushed for the election to go ahead, but a dispute over how to enact postal voting on short notice derailed their plan.

Chemical leak at LG plant in India kills 11, about 1,000 ill (AP) A gas leaked from an LG chemical plant in southern India early Thursday, leaving people struggling to breathe and collapsing in the streets as they tried to flee. At least 11 people died and about 1,000 suffered breathing difficulties and other problems. The synthetic chemical styrene leaked from the LG Polymers plant in a city on India’s eastern coast while workers were preparing to restart the facility after a coronavirus lockdown was eased, state official Vinay Chand said. Chand said some people collapsed on the road and were rushed to a hospital. About 1,000 people in an area of 3 kilometres (1.8 miles) complained of breathing difficulties and a burning sensation in their eyes, he said.

India to begin massive evacuation operation from 12 countries (MENA) The first of more than 60 flights repatriating thousands of Indians stranded overseas by the coronavirus lockdown is due to set off on Thursday. Nearly 15,000 Indians are expected to return on special Air India flights from 12 countries over the next week. Passengers will pay their own fares and be quarantined on return. India suspended all international travel in March before it went into lockdown to curb Covid-19 infections. Eventually, about 200,000 Indians will be brought back, report local media.

Netanyahu cleared to form government (Foreign Policy) Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu surmounted the latest hurdle in his bid to retain power, as the Israeli Supreme Court ruled that his corruption charges should not get in the way of forming a government. Netanyahu and his political rival, Benny Gantz, agreed a power-sharing deal in April after almost a year of deadlock and multiple elections. The new coalition partners expect their government to be sworn in next week. While the Supreme Court has allowed Netanyahu to continue in government, it pointed out that the ruling was not a preemptive absolution from his impending corruption trial. “The legal conclusion we reached does not diminish the severity of the pending charges against MK Netanyahu for violations of moral integrity and the difficulty derived from the tenure of a prime minister accused of criminal activity,” the court said.

#headlines #news

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iplacedajar · 5 years ago

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2019

It seems impossible that I was offered a job eight months ago, that I moved in with Eddy four months ago, that the end of 2019 is already here. Post-college years continue to speed by at an alarming pace.

It was a good year, though, and I was especially grateful for all the unique opportunities I had to travel--to Switzerland and Italy, Saratoga Springs, Provincetown. I went up to New York for the last weekend in June, and spent two magical autumn weekends in the woods--Vermont in October, New Hampshire in November.

I made friends with a sweet fluffy homebody, and I took still more steps toward building a satisfying, adult life for myself. I was in Houston last week, and felt more peace there than I’ve been able to find in a long time. I think part of it is that I finally feel secure and stable in my life in Boston--I finished school, found a permanent job that I love--and so I’m able to “visit” without any underlying anxiety about my precarious position in life.

Books

It was a really good year for books--no pictures because many of them were library books but here’s the list of favorites:

Caroline by Sarah Miller

This is a retelling of Little House on the Prairie from the perspective of Laura’s Ma. The author was inspired to write it after realizing that, although Laura changes the timeline in her fictional retellings, Ma had actually been pregnant with Baby Carrie during their journey from Wisconsin to Kansas. It’s the kind of historical fiction I have always wanted, covering the unique hardships of pioneer life for women and including details like the oilcloth rags Caroline prepared to line her underwear after Carrie’s birth, and her swollen breasts bouncing painfully in the wagon after she leaves the top two hooks of her corset open.

An Absolutely Remarkable Thing by Hank Green

I’ve watched Hank’s videos for years, and I loved his debut novel about navigating unexpected fame and the responsibilities of having an audience through the perspective of a young woman in her 20s. Also, it’s really, really funny.

The Signature of All Things by Liz Gilbert

I . . . adored this book. And I’ve definitely recommended it the absolute most of any book I’ve read this year. It has the voice and the humor and the warmth and the wisdom I’d expect from Liz Gilbert, as well as an exhaustively researched and utterly immersive period setting (19th century Philadelphia). It truly feels epic in scope, and if I try to describe it for too long I sound like a lunatic but it’s about botany and about sexual longing and I think about it every single day.

City of Girls by Liz Gilbert

I was fortunate enough hear Liz talk about this book in person when she went on tour! See the above--this book is amazingly funny and wise and smart and just so fun to read. It’s about showgirls in New York in the 1940s. (On tour, Liz talked about interviewing a bunch of nonagenarian former showgirls for research and wondering beforehand, “Oh God, how am I going to get these grandmotherly old ladies to talk about sex?” and then wondering after, “Oh god, how am I going to get these ladies to talk about anything other than sex?”)

Circe by Madeline Miller

This book is so precious to me. Madeline Miller’s take on Circe is the best rendering of a divine/immortal character as narrator that I’ve ever read. And she does it in first-person. Also, if you ever have an opportunity to hear this author speak publicly, you should take it. She is so smart and well-read, and so steeped in this mythology, and strikes an amazing and refreshing balance between reverence and irreverence for the source material (when writing for the character of Medea, for example, she explained that she was having difficulty understanding her, “until I realized what a bozo Jason was”).

Dune by Frank Herbert

Haha. I read the first four books of this classic sci-fi series this year alongside Eddy. The weirdness chart for this series is an exponential curve and I found the fourth book so deeply weird as to be borderline unreadable, but all of them are special and the first one, in particular, sticks in your brain.

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern

I’ve been waiting for the author of The Night Circus to publish a new book for a long time, and this one was worth the wait. I love love love Erin Morgenstern’s eye for details and aesthetics, and the way she builds story around setting.

Television

I watched and enjoyed more TV shows in 2019 than any year in recent memory, but I think it's partly just the alignment of streaming service releases and my taste than any other factor. Eddy and I finished watching FullMetal Alchemist: Brotherhood at the beginning of this year. There was one weekend in May where all I did was watch Good Omens and bake a rhubarb cake (both very good). I binged all of Fleabag in two days and then I made Eddy watch it, and we're both completely captivated by it. July 5 was officially "Stranger Things Day", and Danielle, Eddy, and I woke up at 9 am, ate donuts, and watched the entire new season in one day (and then went to Veggie Galaxy for emotional recovery). The third season of The Crown dropped a few weeks ago and I spiraled even further into my Olivia Colman obsession, and Eddy and I finished the first season of The Good Place right before we left town for the holidays.

Movies

My movie-watching has declined significantly since I graduated and left behind my Film Boy pals, but I managed a short list of favorites: I adored BOOKSMART, and it immediately jumped to the special place in my heart where coming-of-age stories about smart young women live. I watched THE FAVORITE on a plane and it was fantastic. And then a few nights ago Danielle and I went to see the new Greta Gerwig-directed LITTLE WOMEN and predictably adored it, and it was basically the highlight of my trip home. But I didn't see much in theaters, and I don't feel like I missed out.

Games

Another surprise for me this year was how many games I played and enjoyed. I grew up playing video games and watching my siblings play, but when I moved to Boston for college all I had was a 3DS, and my consumption of games, with the noticeable exceptions of Stardew Valley and Pokémon Go, went into hibernation. That all changed this year, when Eddy bought me a Nintendo Switch for my birthday, and I spent January playing many blissful hours of Let’s Go Pikachu. Other favorites include:

OXENFREE - Branching storylines! Choose-your-own-adventure sans cutscenes so that it all feels totally immersive and high-stakes! And a creepy, existential, Arrival-esque mystery to boot.

THE FLAME IN THE FLOOD - All of my favorite books growing up were about kids who run away to live in the woods à la My Side of the Mountain, so this post-apocalypse survival adventure story featuring our hero, Scout, brewing dandelion tea to cure her snakebites, making snares out of saplings, and using cattail tubers to make braided cord was right in my wheelhouse.

UNTITLED GOOSE GAME - needs no introduction

In Conclusion

Happy new year, all--I hope 2020 brings us all joy and truth.

#shut up olivia

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 6 years ago

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Twenty-Seven Steps, Chapter 8: She’s An Investor [October 1974]

Series summary: Callahan is an American living and studying in London. When Freddie befriends her and brings her into Queen’s inner circle, she finally learns what it’s like to have a family. But love and loyalty aren’t always black and white, and Calla must navigate conflicting desires and obligations as she accompanies John, Roger, Brian, and Freddie through their interwoven lives.

Chapter summary: Freddie sets the record straight.

Chapter warnings: Language, mild violence.

Link to chapter list HERE

“Guess what.”

“Um...you’ve impregnated someone. No, multiple someones.”

“We’re going to America.”

The phone slipped out of Calla’s hands. She fumbled to grasp it as it bounced on the cord. “You’re what?”

“America, Cal!” Roger’s voice was positively triumphant. “Reid got us a tour of America! Killer Queen is already getting nonstop radio play, I’ve heard it three times today, it’s going to be huge!”

Calla covered the speaker with her palm and screamed into the empty apartment, jumping up and down. Freddie had been kicking around lyrics to what Roger derogatorily referred to as “The Gelatin Song” for years; but once it finally came together, all Rog could see were dollar signs. Killer Queen had smash hit written all over it. And it could carry Queen’s soon-to-be-released third album, Sheer Heart Attack, into the charts.

“I’m so happy for you, I’m so happy, I can’t believe this!” Calla struggled to catch her breath. “When? When do you go?”

“We leave in six days.”

And that hit her like an avalanche. She would lose them again, Calla knew. From here on out she would always be losing them: to France, to Germany, to Austria and Italy and Spain, to America, to the world. The higher Queen soared, the farther they would land from her.

“Come with us,” Roger said.

“What?”

“Come to America with us. We’d all love to have you there. You’re an American, you can be our tour guide, teach us about the culture, help us better connect with the fans...make sure we avoid the dodgy bits.”

“Well, there are lots of those,” Calla observed solemnly. “I can’t go to America, Rog.”

“Sure you can.”

“No, really. I can’t.” She could feel her throat starting to burn, her eyes blurring with tears.

“Quit your job,” Roger said. “God knows they’d love to be rid of you and your erratic scheduling. Give up your apartment. Sell your stuff, or put it in storage...I can front you the cash if you need it. Come on the road with us.”

Calla stammered, trying to find her words. “You...you can’t mean that. I can’t burden the band that way. You’re barely hanging on.”

“The money will roll in!” Roger said confidently. “It’ll come, don’t you worry. In the meantime we’ll make it work. You’re no great hardship. You don’t eat much, and you don’t smoke, and you don’t need nearly as much booze to be falling down drunk. And if we can make room for that tosspot Paul then we can make room for you.”

Calla smirked into the handset. “I hope this isn’t some elaborate ploy to get me to sleep with you,” she said, not at all seriously.

“Well, I’m willing to pay, but I think intercontinental plane tickets would be a little steep.”

“Does anyone else know about this grand idea of yours?”

“We’ve already discussed it. Green lights all around.” Then he added: “Well, Paul’s opinion doesn’t matter.”

“EMI’s opinion does matter.”

“Freddie’s matters more.”

Calla’s fingers twirled around the spiraled phone cord. “Are you really sure about this, Roger?” Despite herself, she could suddenly see it all, flickering through her mind like a movie reel: midnight milkshakes at Midwestern diners, dragging equipment onto stages in Miami and LA and New York, introducing the boys to the wonders of Waffle House, fans screaming in accents that she could recognize.

“Pack your damn bags, Yankee.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Darling, we can’t do it that way live,” Freddie pointed out. “Take the pitch down a notch. Speed it up a bit there...yes, right, good, now let’s go again.”

Roger chanted: “Faster, faster, faster!” John spun around in a circle, stepping lightly over the cord that bridged his bass and the amp.

Brian rolled his eyes but obliged, the sixpence he used instead of a pick dancing over his strings.

Queen were squeezing in one last rehearsal in the London studio before the tour. Calla was dabbing paint over a crack in the wall where Roger had hurled a chair a few days ago; if management noticed it, they’d bill the band. Paul was sitting on the couch, gnawing at his fingernails like a rodent, glowering at her.

Calla didn’t hate Paul because he was gay. She’d figured out his orientation pretty quickly, and suspected that the others had as well, though it wasn’t something they discussed. Calla had no malice towards people like Paul; in fact, her heart ached for them. Being different was always difficult, and for the son of Irish Catholics? She couldn’t imagine the secrecy and pain his life would be shrouded in. No, Calla didn’t hate Paul because he was gay; she hated him because he was a sycophantic parasite, and a jealous one at that. Brian, Roger, and John felt similarly, though they didn’t see everything that she did; they didn’t see the way Paul watched Freddie like he was a carp to be gutted and forked piece by piece into dripping mouths.

“Where is she going to sleep?” Paul asked. The music halted.

“What was that, Paul dear?” Freddie said.

Paul pointed his rolled-up newspaper at Calla like an archer taking aim. “Sleeping arrangements?”

“I won’t be sleeping on the bus often,” Roger said. “She can have my spot.”

Brian rolled his eyes again. Calla wondered how he didn’t sprain them.

Freddie waved his hand impatiently. “We’ll have two buses, right? One for us and one for the equipment? That’s plenty of room to spread out in. If we have room for roadies, we have room for her.”

“She’ll weigh you down.”

“You think Calla will be lounging around eating bonbons all day?”

“That’s strictly under my purview,” Roger quipped.

“She’s cleaning up our messes as we speak.” Freddie gestured to where she knelt by the now-nearly-imperceptible crack in the wall, rolled rag in her hands. “Calla’s always made herself useful. She’ll do the same in America.”

Paul snorted and propped his feet up on the coffee table. “It’s a mistake”

Calla rose and approached him. The others’ eyes tracked her, like rabbits watching hawks. “You’re so kind to be concerned,” she said. “I’m just a weak little girl after all. I’d be much better off if you made all these pesky decisions for me.”

“I think you’d be better off not on tour.”

Calla laughed. “Bold words from somebody who no one wants there.”

“Freddie wants me there!”

“How many people do you think there are in Queen?”

Paul stood and towered over her. His eyes were dark and seething. On the periphery of her vision, Calla could see Roger walking towards them. John and Brian unslung their guitars.

“Do you know what happens to loud-mouthed bitches in Belfast?” he asked her, circling. “They get black eyes.”

“I’m just shocked you can handle that many syllables at once.”

Calla turned to walk away. Instinctively—it must have been, because it happened so quickly—Paul struck out and shoved her into the wall behind the couch. Calla heard shouts firing out as she collided with the wall, pain exploding through her forehead and wrapping around her skull. She yelped and felt for the couch, lowering herself into the cushioned seats. Her right hand came up to her face, searching for blood.

The world went black, then flashed into color again.

Instantaneously, Paul was pinned against the wall, his feet kicking eight inches off the ground, Roger’s right hand hooked under his jaw. Paul screamed soundlessly, clutching at his throat. Roger’s voice was deep and searing.

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking castrate you.”

“There will be no castration in this band,” Freddie said. He lit a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He sounded so nonchalant that one could make the mistake of thinking he didn’t care; but Calla knew it was de-escalation he had in mind. If this didn’t get walked back soon, it would be a firestorm. And Paul wasn’t just a prick. He was an EMI employee. “For once in your life play well with others, Rog.”

Roger released Paul and he collapsed to the floor, gasping.

John rushed to Calla, gripping her shoulder and running his thumb gently over her forehead. It throbbed wildly, but she could feel that it hadn’t split open. “Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes seeking.

“Fine, fine,” she said, but the room was lopsided. “Just give me a minute.”

John sat beside her, elbows resting on his knees, glaring at Paul. “You must feel so brave, beating on women half your size. Where’d you learn that, your father? You didn’t even need to empty a few pints down your throat first. Well done.”

John did that sometimes; he’d say things so abrupt and cutting that they almost hurt to hear. He had never directed that talent towards Calla, and she hoped he never would. Brian looked on with his arms crossed.

“Calla is one of us, Paul,” Freddie said. “You’ll treat her with the same respect you show me.”

“I don’t get it,” Paul said venomously, standing and rubbing his neck. Bruises were flaring there, dark and irregular. “What makes her so fucking special? What even is she? A roadie, a friend?”

“She’s an investor.”

Paul recoiled. “A what?”

“An investor,” Freddie repeated. He locked eyes with Calla from across the room.

Don’t, she mouthed, holding her head in her hands.

“She helped finance our first record. She’s been financing us for years, actually. In return, I’ve promised her ten percent of my personal earnings—whenever it is that we start seeing earnings, anyway—in perpetuity. She deserves to see her investment carried out to fruition.”

All eyes were suddenly on Calla. The silence was deafening.

“Is that true?” Roger asked her.

Calla stared at Freddie, shaking her head. He grinned unapologetically at her. “Well I didn’t want it advertised, but yeah.”

“Cal!” Roger cried out, laughing. He soared to the couch and dragged her to her feet, embracing her.

“Careful,” John said, but he was smiling.

“You did that for us?!” Roger said. “Really? As if I needed another reason to love you!” He spun her around, the tips of her toes skating across the linoleum floor.

Love? Did he just say love? Calla’s thoughts whirled dizzily, like moons around Saturn.

“Roger, Rog please,” John pleaded.

“Right, right, sorry, are you okay? I didn’t give you an aneurism, did I?”

“That’s not how that happens.” Brian came to her, long arms outstretched. “Thank you, Calla.” He hugged her tightly, his massive cloud of hair tickling her nose and cheeks. Paul was standing on the other end of the studio, watching them. Freddie whispered something to him, and Paul nodded. He wasn’t scowling; he looked thoughtful, maybe even tactical. And Calla didn’t like that at all.

“Okay,” she said as Brian pulled away. “Okay that’s enough, no more thank yous. Everyone can repress these fond memories and go back to not knowing anything about it. Thank you kindly.”

Another wave of pain rocked through her. Before Calla could stop herself, she winced and touched her forehead.

“Alright, darling,” Freddie said, spiriting to her side. “Time for you to go drown yourself in ice and Tylenol. Get some sleep. We’ll see you at the airport on Friday, bright and early. Wear something fabulous. I’ll bring the polaroid.”

“Fred,” Brian said, “no one dresses up to fly anymore.”

“It’s a milestone, Brian!”

John grabbed Calla’s jacket off the couch and handed it to her. “I’ll walk you home.” She gazed at him, and her mind went blank, and it had nothing at all to do with hitting her head.

It was only then she realized that since Paul had pushed her, John hadn’t left her side.

~~~~~~~~~~

Chrissie knocked about in the kitchen, slamming cabinets open and shut, dropping mugs noisily on the counter. It was about as subtle as the D-Day invasion.

“I know this must be difficult for you,” Calla said. Her apartment was nearly empty; only the kitchen was left to box up.

“What? You mean the fact that you’re going with the band to America for three months while Mary and I sit at home waiting for the phone to ring? Oh, that. Yes. Difficult might be the right word.”

“Chrissie, I’m going to be working,” Calla said quietly.

“Yes, there’s room for you. Because you’ve always been there to talk music with them, something I could never do.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

“Yeah?” Chrissie pitched a glass into the sheet of newspaper she was holding and began wrapping. Calla watched her, knowing it was fear and not spite talking.

“Do you want to tell me what you’re really upset about?”

Chrissie sighed, setting down the glass and resting her hands on the countertop. She looked up at Calla with glistening eyes. “I know what musicians do when they’re on tour.”

“No, Chrissie, no. Brian wouldn’t. That’s not him.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he’s too moralistic not to beat himself up over it afterwards but not too good not to stray in the first place.”

That hit close to the mark, and Chrissie could read it on Calla’s face.

“He won’t,” Calla said, willing it into truth. “And even if he did, Chrissie...that wouldn’t mean that he doesn’t still love you.”

Chrissie gaped at her, her eyes scorching. “Really, Calla? And are you keen to be fucked around on? That’s why you’re not with Roger, isn’t it? You don’t want to join the list of infinite girls he’s been with. Try to count them sometime, it’s like trying to number the fucking stars.”

“I’m aware of that,” Calla said shortly.

“I’m sorry,” Chrissie said, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Calla. I’m just so scared.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. It was brainless of me. I do that, I don’t think things through before I say them.”

“No, you don’t. You’re blunt. And I’ve always liked that about you.” Chrissie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t mean to take this out on you. Really, I don’t.”

“I understand.”

“I want you to have an incredible time across the pond,” she said, smiling faintly. Her face was flushed and glowing in the golden light of the lamps that speckled the floor, the desks and tables they once lived on long gone. She was so beautiful. “I want you to see it all, to take pictures, to help Queen be the best they can be. And then I want you to call me and tell me everything. And remind Brian to call too.”

Calla laughed. “I won’t have to remind him, Chrissie.”

Chrissie bundled Calla into her arms. “Good luck over there,” she whispered. “Take care of them. I would say especially Brian, but I know you can’t do that for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know he’s not the one you’re in love with. God, that smooth, blond, womanizing demon. He’s going to be the death of you.”

“You’re right. I love one of them.” Calla drew back. Her voice was raw and trembling. “But it’s not Roger.”

#bohemian rhapsody fanfic #bohemian rhapsody movie #borhap #joe mazzello!john deacon #ben hardy!roger taylor #joe mazzello #ben hardy #borhap fanfic #bohemian rhapsody #john deacon x reader #roger taylor x reader #twenty seven steps #twenty seven steps series #fanfic #queen fanfic #queen

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chrysaliseuro2019 · 5 years ago

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An Unexpected Bonus

We wanted to look around Benevento a bit more before we left. Despite almost stumbling on it it had character in terms of some majestic buildings and a laid back ambience and we wanted to make sure that we soaked a bit more up before leaving. After breakfast at the hotel we set off for a look around. It was Sunday morning so unfortunately a couple of very good clothes shops for both men and women were closed though that probably saved the budget. It was pretty hot and we stuck to the shade as best we could while taking in some grand buildings. We had not done too much research into Benevento (it doesn't make the guide books) though Liz thought it had possibilities and hence plucked it out as a destination. We also had read via crits of the hotel that it was a handy pitstop for travellers to/from Rome. Glancing down one of the laneways we saw a Roman arch which merited some investigation. We had stumbled upon a treasure. The arch of Trajan built between 114 and 117 AD essentially to honour the Roman emperor Trajan was imposing and well preserved, albeit with an element of restoration over the years. The original buildings around it had been demolished due to earthquakes over the years so the arch stood stolid, defiant and magnificent as a reminder of the past and arguably the best preserved example that I have seen of this type of structure. The arch has various sculptures and friezes depicting Emperor Trajan in processions or meeting dignitaries amongst other scenes. We probably spent 30-45 mins just walking around it to look at it from various angles. It was both one of those uncanny and moving connections with life 2000 years ago and a glorious piece of ancient architecture. With some reluctance we dragged ourselves away with a few glances over the shoulder to get a final glimpse. Again one of those monuments that you feel that you should visit every year or two and just reflect on and enjoy though that is going to be unlikely in this case. We headed back to the car thinking Liz had done it again and found a small gem in the city of Benevento when we weren't expecting much more than a feed and a bed. Next we had decided for our last day in Italy prior to heading for Latvia that we should soak up some rays and basically just relax by the beach. Also we wanted to keep heading towards Rome so that the final day's journey in the car would be reduced. The hotel Miramare near Latina was our choice. A couple of hundred kilometres away from Benevento. We arrived around 4.00pm, checked in and immediately headed for the beach. It was hot and pretty chokkers with people though through the hotel we had a reserved area to sit on and free beach beds and umbrellas. Settled ourselves down in the front row and went quickly for a swim to cool off. Very pleasant and sandy beach. I headed off for ice creams and on return found a disgruntled Liz was in the process of moving to beds nearby - "the blue beds". We had inadvertently parked ourselves on "the white beds" which though labelłed as Hotel Miramare had to be paid for and were often reserved for a week by the same people. Though empty at the time and it now being 4.30 pm the attendant advised that people may return despite Liz's protestations. She was not happy. Anyway all good and in fact the blue beds offered more shade beside a small building as the sun was getting lower and the umbrellas were of less use. It was a lovely way to end the Italy venture. Our room was very pleasant with a good sized balcony looking out to sea and despite the fact that it was a commercial sort of environment, given the setting, facilities and ease of access to the beach, another day there would not have gone amiss. Early evening post a freshen up we went to the small hotel next door which had an informal open air bar which looked out to sea for a drink. A very pleasant 45 mins or so spent there. Time for dinner. Not too many choices close to the hotel that we were keen on. Either too formal and pricey looking or menu boring but there were only a few options. We decided to walk along the beach road towards Latina which was a couple of kilometres away. Every few hundred metres there would be a restaurant or bar even a couple of campsites. We saw a couple of places that we liked the look of. At the first one we tried, which was really full, they said we were too late as the kitchen was closing (it was around 9.30) which seemed a bit weak. We reckon the owner had made too much, it had been a big night and he'd had enough. Second one was fine and though it also busy, with the staff under a bit of pressure, we enjoyed it. Nice seat in a sort of garden setting. Liz's risotto with seafood was unfortunately a bit more like basmati with seafood but my clam pasta very good. Friendly service too. We retraced our steps to the hotel and it was a very tidy walk but no hardship on a pleasant night. Next morning we set off around 10.30 for the 90 minute trip to Rome airport. A little task first. Our foam beach mats from Greece needed to be ditched. We thought the campsite would be a good place to gift them so drove down and Liz gave them to a mum with young son as they headed for the beach. Not needed on this sandy beach but might be handy in the future. After initial surprise at what the deal was, mum was very grateful. They had come in very handy for us those mats and not sure how you could enjoy Greek beaches without them, together with the protective foot coverings for when you traverse the pebbles into the water. Off we set for the airport and the car not due to be returned till about 1.20 pm. We could take it easy and not rush. Usual shenanigans at the end finding a garage to refuel. We found one after driving around a little, just a couple of kms from the airport though not on the main road in. The navigator was showing signs of concern especially as I had ignored a petrol station with about 17/18 kms still to go to the airport. Relief all round. Also finding our way to the car hire return necessitated negotiating a cryptic maze of signs. The trusty Narelle, the voice of google maps, proved not so trusty on this occasion and lead us up the garden path. She got us to the airport but then took us to the departure area even though signs were pointing to car rental in a different direction. In the end we closed her down and followed the signs which weren't exactly easy but we got there with around 45 mins to spare. Flight not parting for 4 hours so we settled down to wile away the time. It went. Flight took off pretty much on time around 6.00pm and was uneventful. Air Baltic which we booked through Alitalia. One bonus of booking thru Alitalia was that we got a baggage allowance of 23kgs as opposed to the air Baltic standard of 20 kgs. We were both just over the 20 kgs mark so handy. Plane was pretty new and seats much more user friendly than the Aussie squeezy ones with minimal leg room that we all now have to put up with. The flight landed at 9.45pm - on schedule. What I hadn't appreciated was that the Baltics are 1 hour ahead of Italy so the flight was only 2 hours 45 mins not the 3hours 45 that I expected. Usual bus to the terminal job which seemed to take a while by the time it was loaded up and also leaving the plane was a bit slow. However that all paled as from then on things went like a rocket. Appeared to be no customs to clear. We didn't show passports though the check in process had scrutinised them perhaps they rely on Air Baltic's processes. As we walked into the baggage area out came the bags. We were sitting in a taxi around 10.10 with a 15 minute drive to the centre of Riga. We were meeting good friends Sue and Peter Box in Riga so having spoken to and texted Peter from Rome saying we would see them in the morning given our late arrival, I now called him to say if they were still up we would have a jar in the bar. They were and we did. It was a nice way to end a pretty hassle free journey. Perhaps the only discordant note was a regular(ish) one. The taxi driver into Riga was an absolute grump. In fact downright rude. The hotel advised that we could get a slightly discounted taxi journey using red taxis who would be given a voucher when they delivered us to the hotel which the driver could then reclaim. This guy seemed ropable about it. Perhaps he wanted the cash but in truth the meter seemed to be less than the value of the voucher. We were staying at a Radisson and there are 4 Radisson hotels in town. He yelled at Liz " there are 4 madam which one is yours" and so on. Not a good intro. Never spoke the whole way there. No "where are you from", no discussion about Riga. He did lift our bags out but quickly disappeared. Another bloke in the wrong job or perhaps he'd had a bad day. Anyway, Latvia! After much planning we were here. A buzz. Also to be sharing it with Peter and Sue.

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cinenthusiast · 6 years ago

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Previous Top Ten By Year lists: 1935, 1983, 1965, 1943, 1992, 1978, 1925, 1969 1930

Previous Top Ten By Year: 1949 Posts: Top Ten By Year: 1949 – Poll Results 100 Images from the Films of 1949 What I’ll Remember About the Films of 1949: A Love Letter #10. The Queen of Spades (UK/Dickinson) #9. Rendezvous in July (Becker)/Au royaume des cieux (Duvivier) (France) #8. Too Late for Tears (US / Haskin) #7. The Heiress (US / Wyler) #6. The Set-Up (US / Wise) #5. Caught (US / Ophüls) #4. The Passionate Friends (UK / Lean) #3. Puce Moment (US / Anger) #2. The Third Man (UK / Reed)

For those unaware of my Top Ten By Year project: The majority of my viewing habits have been dictated by this project since September of 2013. Jumping to a different decade each time, I choose comparatively weaker years for me re: quantity of films seen/quantity of films loved. I use list-making as a way to see more films and revisit others in a structured and project-drive way. I was sick of spending too much time trying to decide what to watch, or watching films just to cross them off another dumb canon list. I wanted to engage. I wanted films to be enhanced by others, by looking at a specific moment in time. I wanted something that led me to seeing or revisiting things I might not have gotten to otherwise. Lastly, my lists are based on personal favorites, not any weird notion of an objective best.

This is the first year I’ll be doing separate posts for each film. #9 will go up Monday. After that, one will go up each day until the end. Then I’ll post them all together so they are gathered in one place. There are a lot of films I loved that did not make the cut. In particular, Flamingo Road, Such a Pretty Little Beach, On the Town, Inspirace, The Reckless Moment, Reign of Terror, The Rocking Horse Winner, and Samson and Delilah are all films I thought at one point would be on here. Of all of these, Flamingo Road was a sure thing until it wasn’t at the very last minute. Please go watch it.

#1. Bitter Rice (Italy / De Santis) (first-time watch)

Two women and two cultures intertwined.

There are two sides to Bitter Rice. One has neorealism, Silvana, and Italy. The other has film noir, Francesca, and America. When all is said and done these two women will have swapped places, for better and much worse. And when Italy’s other neorealist filmmakers see Bitter Rice, they will take it as a betrayal of truth and the political. In short, they hated it. In this time of crucial political upheaval when neorealism carried legitimate cultural cache, director Giuseppe De Santis had made something too slick, too tawdry, and too American. The message was tarnished by the method. But De Santis was a Marxist who happened to admire and study John Ford, King Vidor, and the visual patterns of Hollywood studio filmmaking. He saw mass appeal as a way to both entertain and denounce, and made a film in which neorealism is hijacked and reconfigurated to be a noir melodrama.

Bitter Rice has a lot of recognizably neorealist markers; location shooting, a focus on labor and economic struggle, the tactile particulars of rice worker life, and the use of the specific cultural practices such as the choral Coralita. The sound of women wading through water, the way it would around their legs, and the strain of being hunched over day after day — it’s all made vivid. But it is easy to see why Bitter Rice would seem a betrayal. Its mutinous synthesis of “authenticity” and artificiality was a signpost towards neorealism’s end. Soon there would be stars, genre, production in the Italian film industry.

The synthesis is clear from the very first scene. The authenticity of the mondine (female rice workers) is introduced with grandiosity and sweep. There are no docu-elements here, but plenty of elaborate tracking and crane shots to go around, the kind of gradually encompassing images you’d be more likely to find in a DeMille epic. Watching the very first scene I thought: “Wait — what am I in for?”. All preconceived notions were immediately scrapped, and I realized my trip to the rice fields of Po Valley would be a very different one indeed. Then, a couple carrying stolen jewels are chased into the station waiting to transport the workers to the fields. Their arrival feels like an alien invasion, as if some freak chemical accident at the film lab spilled one film into another. This dichotomy plays throughout with electric and arresting cohesion, making it so distinctly unlike any other film from its movement.

While De Santis was inspired by the Hollywood narrative format, he also uses American culture’s insidious postwar presence to illustrate the dangers of breaking from solidarity for hollow (the fake jewels!) individual gain. This is done using the two incredible and complex women of Bitter Rice‘s center. After Francesca the Moll (Doris Dowling, an American actress) is forced to assimilate in the rice fields, she finds purpose among the mondine. In order to stay in hiding, she has to advocate for the rights of her fellow non-contract workers. But this is never done as a means to an end. Francesca never schemes to stay on; she is always shown as sincerely leading the protests for the group. Life becomes bigger than herself, and she learns to stand both as her own woman, and as part of the mondine.

Francesca also begins to see her personal life more clearly. You get the sense that despite loving Walter (Vittorio Gassman), she is not blind to how reprehensible he is (I mean, in the first scene he literally used her as a human shield so….). But she had nowhere to go, and no strength to pull away. Life in Po Valley gives her that strength. The value of the collective is present throughout, with choral scenes, aerial shots showcasing the lines of working women linked together, and fragments of peripheral characters and their various troubles. They push themselves to the brink under oppressive conditions just to make it to the next job, and there is power in their (at times friction-filled) solidarity (I was also reminded of last year’s Support the Girls, also about a community of women united by unforgiving labor).

Then there is the shrewd but naive young Silvana (Silvana Mangano, who I’ll talk about later), a peasant that dreams of wealth. She is seduced by all things coded America and money (she should talk to Caught’s Leonora!). We first meet her doing the boogie woogie (she does a lot of dancing, employed for seduction and statement). In this group of women, where everyone is introduced as part of a whole, she immediately stands out as modern. She chews gum, loves big-band, and is seen reading photo-romances, the then-popular prepackaged fantasies that were read by lower and working class Italian women. Silvana wants out; she longs for adventure, riches, and a certain kind of romance. But the way out that presents itself is a different kind of way out, and she is too blinded by inexperience to understand it.

The camera links Francesca and Silvana all the time. Whether in two-shots or individual spaces, there is an invisible tether between them. Their lives and fates take part in a film-length body-swap. Silvana talks about fate a lot, but is seen making deliberate choices towards certain doom. She can’t see Walter for what he is — an exploiter and a monster. But Francesca gives her an out, replaying about her life with Walter and the terrible things he has done. She tries to take the abuse and hardship she lived through and save someone else from making the mistakes she did. But Silvana can’t see past the jewels and the suit. There is only the potential for excitement, for something that is not this. After all, Walter “looks like a gentleman” (aka a hotshot gumshoe); so he must be, right? While Francesca’s transformation is one of victorious camaraderie, Silvana’s (both actress and character) is altogether much murkier; one marked by punishment.

Silvana Mangano never wanted her body to represent the whole of Italy, but it did. Audiences were scandalized just seeing the unapologetically full female form (au natural, code for Armpit Hair), the kind that becomes sexualized simply by existing. She was the prototype of the “earthy women” that would cause such a stir overseas (later embodied by Gina Lollobrigida and Sophia Loren). She started out by winning Miss Rome, a post-war contest that further enhanced the idea of body-as-nation, and an honor that became synonymous with future screen tests. Unlike Lollobrigida and Loren, Mangano didn’t cash in on overseas notoriety for a Hollywood career. She became resentful of her image, and of fame, eventually giving herself a drastic reinvention (her figure was now svelte and arch, her look cold) and starring in art films by Pasolini and Visconti in the late 1960s and 1970s (and Dune!).

The camera doesn’t ogle Mangano Tex Avery style; this isn’t Jane Russell in The Outlaw. But it aims to stay back, taking in the whole of her whenever possible. And you can’t help but take part in that — I love looking at her. She is the textbook case for why the male gaze is not an open-and-shut. For all its appallingly absolute authority on the almost-whole of filmic language, women enjoy it too! One of the great joys of watching films is watching bodies, both male and female. I am hypnotized and, yes, completely turned on by Silvana Mangano in Bitter Rice. The camera may not be that Tex Avery wolf, but I’ll admit that I am.

Critics felt her body, and Bitter Rice’s eroticism as represented by her, cheapened the film and nullified its political message. Yet a crucial part of its political message is the punishment her and her body endures for betraying the homeland (a tactic that opens up a whole other can of worms). She is eroticized, symbolic, made into a cautionary tale. Her final fugue march is just like Ann Todd’s in The Passionate Friends. Claude Rains gets there in time. Francesca cannot.

(TW: rape)

She is raped. It is a rape that takes away her body. We don’t see much of it after that. In those last thirty minutes she is made up of haunted black pupils, lit like she’s telling a ghost story. She is immediately ostracized by the filmmaking, quarantined off in shots of the mondine in ways you feel more than see. It’s not obvious, but intrinsic and heartbreaking. The most startling example takes place immediately following her assault. It is pouring out (during these scenes a stunning rain shower falls right in front of the camera like a curtain) and the women have banded together, refusing to let the weather set them behind schedule. Silvana walks in a daze, confused and in shock. Ahead, a sick woman who shouldn’t be out in her condition begins having an attack. She howls out, and begins writhing in pain as the women surround her and hold her down. They begin to sing in an attempt to calm her (they are all one). Silvana looks on in horror. This is a mirror image of what she just went through, her trauma reflecting right back at her. She is watching herself. She begins to scream. She is drowned out, not part of the coralita, not part of anything anymore. Her cries go unheard.

The meat locker finale is one last compare-and-contrast session. Both women have guns. Both women have a man beside them. One is shaking and shaken. The other is determined and resolute. Francesca is still trying to save the other end of the tether. There is something so moving and uncommon in Francesca’s committed efforts to protect Silvana despite the harm she causes and rivalry she insists on. It’s hard to put into words how much I love these women, these characters, these performances. Bitter Rice pays such close attention to how women communicate with each other (in both speech and body language, the silent glares and stares may as well be full conversations), and to the breadth of female experience, struggle, and loyalty. We see how hard it is for Francesca to break away from Walter. We see that Silvana’s sense of right and wrong are muddied by what she wants out of life. We see that Silvana’s actions are not unfeeling; there is such pain on her face as she undoes the mondine’s hard work. The list goes on as more layers are pulled back.

Watching Bitter Rice is that all-too rare sensation of not knowing where a film is headed, or what story it will tell (unless you’ve read this before watching). Francesca and Silvana are often hard to read. By the end, that body swap trajectory is clear, but only at the end. And despite the larger-than-life symbolic statuses they represent, they are two of the most layered and human women I’ve ever seen onscreen. They don’t fit into any neat box — not within neorealism, and not within noir. Francesca and Silvana are with me now, and I’m the better for it.

Top Ten By Year: 1949 #1 – Bitter Rice (Italy / De Santis) Previous Top Ten By Year lists: 1935, 1983, 1965, 1943, 1992,

#bitter rice #doris dowling #giuseppe de santis #Italy #neorealism #silvana mangano

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