#Los Thunderbolts

[programapilototv]

¿Quiénes son los Thunderbolts? Conoce el 'Escuadrón Suicida' de Marvel

¿Quiénes son los Thunderbolts? Conoce el ‘Escuadrón Suicida’ de Marvel

Fuente: D23 El grupo de villanos redimidos ya dio pistas de su llegada desde que el personaje de Valentina Allegra de Fontaine (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) apareció en Viuda Negra y en Falcon y el Soldado de Invierno. Desde la confirmación del proyecto en la pasada Comic Con, hemos estado pendientes de averiguar más detalles. Y, por fin, este D23 dieron mucha más información sobre qué podremos esperar…

[pilotstreets]

if trench had tornado sirens they would be thunderbolt 1003 sirens and they would all sound like they're dying

[laultimacocacolaeneldesierto]

Elektra by Bill Sienkiewicz

[melis-writes]

Mafia Wife [Sonny Corleone x Reader Multichapter, 18+ Smut] Chapter 1 – La Famiglia Giordano.

Read on AO3 / Chapter Masterlist.

18+, explicit smut read.

“You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.” / “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”

“The underboss’s wife”; that’s who you are, and the whispers of enemies, family and colleagues alike know it too. You’re no stranger to the underworld of crime surrounding you including the one run by the Corleone family’s underboss; Santino Corleone. The streets run red with blood and brutality under Santino’s influence but it’s Santino who feels hit by the thunderbolt at the very sight of you—pushing away his womanizing and notorious unfaithfulness. You unexpectedly find yourself in a position of power balancing your marriage with the fate of the Corleone’s family’s future whether it be through Santino’s infamous brutality or the love he finds amidst the man he claims to be.

[WARNINGS]: Mentions of violence & death / Alcohol use / Pregnancy / Childbirth.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE]: The very first chapter of my Sonny Corleone x Reader fic is FINALLY here!! 🥰✨ Thank you guys SO much for all of the endless support and love this fic received when it was just an idea and barely typed out! I'm so glad to finally have it up. By far the most exhausting and longest part of the fic process is planning a brand new one for me, and I had definitely been much busier than usual when planning out/writing this fic which is why it took so long to write. I had to give something for the Santino girlies as I'm one myself!! 👀❤️ Please read ALL of the tags on this fic on AO3 before diving into the chapters as it'll give you a good understanding as to what the entire fic and chapters will be like. This goes for ALL fics I write! The tags are there for a reason. This fic is also 18+ only, just like all of my other works forever and always. This is meant for adults to read only. ✋🏻

Chapter 1: La Famiglia Giordano.

[ Barzini Family Estate, 1948 ]

“Nobody wants another war,” Don Barzini states, watching the ice soaking in his glass of whiskey. “Nobody wanted another war; isn’t that how it always goes?”

Don Tattaglia gives his head a shake, relaxing in the leather armchair he sits across from Barzini. “We have Sollozzo to thank for all of that.”

Having an otherwise civil discussion between two closely allied business partners and old friends, the bond Don Barzini and Don Tattaglia’s family share has been stronger than ever since Sollozzo. 

Despite successfully allying together against the Corleones throughout the Five Families War and coming together for talk over business, neither Barzini nor Tattaglia can ignore the air of tension that’s formed between them now. 

Barzini can easily tell Tattaglia is unnerved as he sips his whiskey again, savoring the smokey notes of the liquid over his tongue while noticing how Tattaglia is nearly chugging back his drink.

“You’re tense,” Barzini comments, somewhat surprised by Tattaglia’s behavior. “Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or not?”

“How can I not be?” Tattaglia swallows down his drink. 

“You’re looking at all of this the wrong way, my friend,” Barzini gives a reassuring smile. “You’re on the winning side. The Godfather has no leverage over either of our families or—”

“Vito Corleone isn’t my concern,” Tattaglia interrupts.

“Hmm,” Barzini pauses, taking a sip of his drink again. “Then that’s a first.”

“It’s his son,” Tattaglia adds.

“Which one?” Barzini rolls his eyes. “They’re all equally useless in their own ways.”

Tattalia opens his mouth to answer before pausing for a moment; a look of absolute defeat crosses his expression, forming into regret, then helplessness. “Does the name ‘Gabriella’ ring a bell to you?”

Barzini raises a curious brow. “Maybe. Should it? Does The Godfather have another daughter we don’t know about?”

“He has a daughter-in-law,” Tattaglia answers, “Gabriella Corleone. She’s the daughter of Francesco Giordano.”

Barzini tenses for a moment, no longer focusing on his whiskey. “I… I see.”

“You know Gabriella then?” Tattagia asks back.

“Not personally, but her name was spoken often in my household. Was,” Barzini emphasizes. 

Tattaglia sighs softly, giving his head a shake.

“Emilio wanted to marry her,” Barzini continues, mentioning his eldest son. “He spoke of Gabriella fondly and often, but she refused him and his advances. Now you’re telling me she’s part of the Corleone family?”

“Francesco did well hiding the news from us for the most part,” Tattaglia points out. “Everyone else must have known.”

“No, no,” Barzini shakes his head, refusing. “I don’t think of it in that way. Francesco is a dear friend. He doesn’t ‘hide’ things. He values the privacy he can give his family.”

“If you want to put it that way,” Tattaglia mumbles. “It’s none of our business, is it? She married Santino Corleone, the underboss.”

Barzini freezes in his seat, attempting to calm himself down internally as Tattaglia immediately picks up on Barzini’s shocked expression.

Tattaglia nods grimly, “do you know what you’ve done?”

“Don’t,” Barzini mutters softly, holding up his free hand. 

“She’s pregnant,” Tattaglia adds. “Do you even care? Do you know what’s going to happen now? To your investments? Your wealth? Your bank accounts with Giordano?”

Barzini suddenly lets go of his whiskey glass, watching as the glass shatters to pieces over the floor and the alcohol spills free onto the wood. 

Barzini covers his face with shame, feeling a knot of heavy emotions cause him to feel nauseous almost instantly with unimaginable guilt.

A heavy silence sits in the air between the two men for a minute as they ponder, having nothing else to say to each other. 

“I will apologize to Gabriella,” Barzini finally speaks, raising his head out of his hands.

“You can’t,” Tattaglia frowns. “You can’t do anything anymore.”

~

[ 1921 ]

“Gabriella… Little Gabriella.” You’re the first-born daughter in your family to four older brothers, and the eldest to your twin sister, born just forty minutes apart.

Although your mother went into labor knowing she’d welcome two children instead of one on June 19th, 1921, nothing could surpass the joy your mother and father felt when you were born.

Just as your four eldest brothers had been born, your mother gave birth to you and your twin sister Bella at home, surrounded by two Italian-American nurses from the community who had helped your mother through her previous deliveries.

Your parents weren’t sure what to expect when your mother realized she was pregnant with her fifth child since the last four children she gave birth to were all boys.

“Will it be another boy this time?” Your father chuckled and placed his hand over the top of your mother’s seven-month-old baby bump. “Perhaps two boys?”

“Oh, please,” your mother let out a laugh, “we have more than enough boys. I would love a daughter this time around. One boy and one girl, or twin girls even.”

“What a dream that would be,” your father grinned. “It seems like we’ve had all the luck in the world for having sons. No matter,” he leaned over, kissing your mother’s baby bump gently. “Boy or girl loved all the same. Spoiled like his or her other siblings. Only two this time…” He pulled away, looking up at your mother. “I can’t wait to meet them, darling.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” your mother blushed and laced both of her hands with your father’s. “Two more additions to the family. You know what I said when we first married? About baby names?”

“I do, mhmm,” your father nodded. “You wanted to name our first-born daughter Gabriella.”

“I do,” your mother smiled warmly. “I still do.”

“Of course. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. I still remember,” he gave your mother’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I hope this time we get to meet little Gabriella.”

“I hope so too, my love.”

Even before you were born, you were loved. The idea of you was loved, your name was loved, and everything and anything you could be from birth to adulthood to old age was loved. 

Nothing compared to how overwhelmed with joy your mother felt when she smiled up weakly at you, tears in her eyes from excruciating contractions hitting her again and again to see and hear one of the nurses declare, “it’s a girl!”

Before your mother went back into labor to give birth to your twin sister forty minutes later, she held you in her arms and cooed to you through her tears of happiness. “Gabriella… Gabriella...”

She kissed your cheeks wet with tears as your father let you hold his finger with your tiny hand, looking down upon you with so much love and happiness.

You were born into this world loved and welcomed just as your siblings were, and just as you would always be. 

Your twin sister and you were born to the Giordano family; a family that came from money which was no secret nor meant to be one.

Your father, Francesco Giordano, better known as “Frankie” by his friends and business partners, was born in Sicily, but your grandparents had already been living in and had immigrated to New York.

Your father came from a lengthy family history of educated individuals; spanning seven generations of university graduates and had graduated from Columbia University himself in 1912.

Your mother, Rosa nee De Luca, who was born in Long Island, New York to Sicilian parents, had met your father in that same year. 

Having many connections or even just one to a crime family served to be the best for anyone’s interests, even those who didn’t want to get “involved” indirectly or directly, and then there are always individuals who wouldn’t mind the close ties with the mafia so as long as they stray from direct intervention or get too close, could always reap the benefits of work connections by having powerful friends in powerful places.

Your father and his family practiced the same mantra as many others; don’t get too close to the mafia to avoid getting burned, by maintaining a healthy business relationship and community friendliness.

Since the days of your great-grandfather, your father inherited the ownership of several small banks that his family had started; serving the local community and operating for middle-class families with day-to-day funds, support for home ownership, and loans.

The success of your father’s family business in banking was steady and promising, working out very well to attract a clientele of all kinds from the Italian-American community in particular.

Your father built his business connections where your grandfather left off but also started new ones with the Italian community in the neighborhood and area as well as being involved with all of the crime families himself, but with some more than others.

Everyone, including the mafia, knows Frankie Giordano to be an honest businessman who makes a living to feed his family. Your father also happens to be smart and witty about it too.

Frankie Giordano built a name for himself without feeding off of his father’s legacy and thus deepened the trust and bond the Giordano family already had with the mafia when it came to loans and money laundering.

One could say your father always went to the bank laughing, and the mafia made sure of that for the excellent service rendered by the Giordano banks. 

Your father also knew that his future wife—your mother—would benefit greatly from that, and thus so would all of his and her children.

Your father had no intention of keeping the truth and ties of his business affairs from you, your twin sister Bella, or any of your brothers for that matter. He would only wait to tell you all in due time when you’d be mature enough to understand and process it.

Even if in the future and all grown up none of you were remotely interested in the booming world of business and finance, you’d at least benefit immensely from inheritance and the steady flow of wealth and investments.

Your father’s closest business partners were that of the Corleone and Tattaglia families, although the Barzini’s were getting close enough to join the list too.

Your family is protected from conflicting interests and possible hostilities between rival families because your father’s business is legal, public and there’s mutual respect and understanding of what your family’s banks provide with respect grandfathered in. 

Despite Frankie Giordano’s wealth and success, your father was never the type of man to flaunt or brag—just maintaining his work ethic with dedication like none other; traits you would indeed inherit from him.

In many ways, your father would see a lot of himself in you as you grew older, such as the fact you too could see light at the end of every tunnel and that you also valued family and morals over money and power.

Such traits and beliefs made your father a true family man under times of turmoil and stress, and it also helped you understand the world around you better.

Your father married your mother, Rosa, in 1914 after almost two years of courtship with no intention to push or rush their relationship for the sake of tying the knot quickly.

Your mother comes from a family of wealthy socialites who built upon their wealth by investing and simply being connected to the right people. 

Your parents met each other through a social outing when your mother’s family became all the more interested in investing in Giordano family banks.

“It’s one thing to believe in something such as love at first sight. Love can be so fickle, but when it happens to you, it changes you completely,” your mother had once told you.

The wit and cunning your mother showed growing up as a young woman were learned from family members around her and would no doubt pass on to you as well.

Through your mother, you also discovered your passion and love for art and botany, whereas your twin sister Bella felt the same and was more connected to architecture, nature, and the outdoors. 

When your parents settled down and planned to have a family of their own, your brothers, you, and your sister would come from and be born into a family of love and respect that could never be unbound.

You knew from a very young age early on that your parents loved each other very much, and although all couples disagree and have their fights, you still can’t recall a single moment where you heard your parents raise their voices at each other in front of you, let alone fight or argue in front of you and your siblings either.

Growing up, all you knew is you loved and wished for the same peace and calm love your parents shared.

You don’t want to be “madly” in love; you want a peaceful and understanding love—the kind your mother and father share with each other with the kind of expectations they lived through and passed onto you.

Everything you’ve learned about love was through your parents, and it set your heart’s wants and needs as a young woman.

Your mother, who is not easily impressed by just anything, had taught you to be the same and explore your options with all things when you were a teenager.

“What pleases the eye once may not do so the second time. The world is filled with options. Your heart will know what’s best for you.”

While your mother was eighteen years old when she married your father, she gave birth to your eldest brother—Luca—in 1915.

Right up until your mother’s maternity leave, she was a private art teacher in New York City who specialized in teaching about painting; classical, renaissance, religious, and abstract. 

Your mother would not return back to teaching part-time until 1936 when your sister Bella and you were about fifteen years old and the family could easily sustain and take care of itself throughout the day.

Your mother also preferred to teach part-time instead of full-time before she began to have children because she preferred to spend most of her time with the grandchildren she welcomed over the years.

Coming up to 1939, you and your sister were eligible bachelorettes in your family alongside one bachelor brother—Giani—but it would be you, the most eligible bachelorette considering your circumstances and your sister’s traveling abroad that would not only bring you upon him—Santino Corleone—but the Corleone family and their history with the Giordano’s in due time.

[ 1920, Hell’s Kitchen, New York ]

“There will never be come a day—” Francesco says, sketching out the outline of a small olive branch over a scrap piece of paper in front of him, “where they outlaw this, my friend. Never. The olive? They could not,” your father admires his sketch, darkening the two olives he drew hanging on the branch. “The olive provides too much—it does too much. You buy it from Vito Corleone—Genco Olive Oil—” he smiles up at Vito who returns the warm expression, popping a black olive in his mouth from the small platter in front of them.

“And you use it in your cooking,” your father continues, taking an olive and putting it in his mouth. “It’s too versatile, too much of a need for the average family to outlaw.”

“I can’t see any Italian family without a bottle in their home,” Vito chuckles quietly.

“Exactly,” your father points out, reaching into the drawer beneath him for a moment.

Vito glances over curiously, watching as Francesco pulls out a concealed bottle of unopened Jack Daniel’s whiskey before setting it on the front counter in front of him.

“You don’t have to worry about the repercussions of buying a bottle or whole barrel of olive oil. This though,” your father taps the back of his fingernails against the bottle of alcohol. “Is a crime. This bottle here.”

Vito raises a curious brow; amusement twinkling in his eyes as to how nonchalantly your father pulled out a bottle of unopened whiskey.

“My father’s favorite drink served on ice. Bought and sold everywhere, now it’s illegal,” Francesco chuckles, shaking his head. “Now, buying and selling alcohol is illegal. Just like that.”

“They could never expect to stop everyone from doing so,” Vito chimes in.

“Exactly, my friend,” your father begins to open up the bottle, grabbing two small glasses from the cupboard beneath the front counter at which he and Vito sit. “They never can, but they know they never could. I don’t know how much longer this silliness will last, but,” Francesco begins to pour Vito and himself a glass of whiskey, “there’s plenty more of where this came from. No questions asked, no eyebrows raised.”

A curious look crosses Vito’s eyes as he takes his glass of whiskey before glancing down at it. Naturally, he immediately begins to wonder how many bottles Francesco has, where he got them from, how he got them, and where they’ll go.

“You are the most resourceful friend I know,” Vito comments, “do I need to ask?”

“You can,” your father replies, knowing, of course, Vito’s curiosity is only normal and expected, “if we can come to an agreement first, my friend.”

Your father was the first man to lend Vito Corleone money; give him his first full loan just by knowing his full name and without any interest.

Your father gave Vito a chance—one of his first chances—without even knowing it, and through such a chance came one lucrative business opportunity after another.

If your father and Vito were involved in something, then it meant there was plenty of money to be made under the table without asking questions and with no risk of getting caught.

Whether your father and Vito formally acknowledged it or not, they were a duo of sorts.

Your father trusted Vito while knowing Vito was indeed settling the roots of his one crime family just as the other mafia families in New York were.

Your father didn’t care about Vito’s involvement in crime or anything of the sort; your father was and is a banker by trade and name, and money always talked.

With prohibition starting in 1920 with a surplus of alcohol to be smuggled from your father’s contacts in Canada, there was nothing but profit to be made from the business for however long prohibition would last.

Securing and solidifying a strong friendship already, the prohibition era would make both your family and Vito’s very wealthy from the moment Vito smiled and shook your father’s hand in agreement, knowing all the same.

That was hardly the beginning of the Giordano and Corleone family’s friendship and ties with one another.

That same year, Vito Corleone would kill Don Fanucci.

Despite the concept being thought of by everyone who had the misfortune to know Fanucci, many didn’t believe Fanucci would be outright killed.

It was merely something men fantasized about to set themselves free of the financial obligations Fanucci put forward and fears they would be killed, extorted, go missing, or worse.

Taking Fanucci out was a fantasy, nobody could do it except for Vito Corleone.

If it was anyone your father had faith in to stand up to a brutish man like Fanucci, it was Vito Corleone, but your father also didn’t expect Vito to murder Fanucci the way he did and so soon.

On that fateful day, your father was closing up his main bank’s branch for the day; having put up the “closed” sign on the front door and lowered the blinds more than halfway down.

He had not yet locked the front door since he was up at the front anyway, and your father would be able to see anyone coming to approach the bank’s entrance before they could even think of trying the door.

At that time, your father was counting some of the spare change in one of the last drawers quietly, noting that it was 5:30 PM and rush hour had fully kicked in.

Humming quietly to himself, Francesco put the spare change in his pocket before closing up the cash register and locking it with his key.

Only for a moment did your father look up to see the faint figure of a passerby without paying too much attention to it.

In a few moments from now, Francesco would lock up the bank and head home; your mother was expecting him with a hot meal on the table and she was pregnant with you and your twin sister Bella at the time.

In a good mood and having enjoyed his work day, your father slowly began to stop humming upon hearing footsteps from that same figure grow closer to the bank’s front door.

Your father knew it wasn’t someone out strolling or wandering, but rather approaching the bank directly and standing in front of the door.

Your father kept his hand over his pistol carefully concealed underneath an old polishing rag on the front counter while watching the figure’s movements by the door.

It was then that Francesco noticed who the figure was, seeing no cause for panic or alarm.

It was Peter Clemenza, and he was revealing himself to your father to avoid a bullet in between the eyes at this hour.

Clemenza lifted up the “closed” sign in front of the door and peeked his head in; urgency in his eyes and beckoning with his hands to be let in.

Your father moved his hand away from the pistol and gestured for Clemenza to enter since the door wasn’t locked.

Sighing in relief, Clemenza quickly entered and shut the door behind him instantly, wasting no time.

Your father could easily tell Clemenza was alarmed but didn’t have a look on his face that spelled it was his problem.

Before your father could barely blink or open his mouth to ask Clemenza what was going on, Clemenza immediately stated, “Fanucci is dead.”

Your father stared back at him in shock, pausing for a moment to take everything in. “What? Dead?”

“Dead,” Clemenza confirms, locking the bank door and taking off his fedora. “I came over here as fast as I could to tell you.”

“Who else knows?” Francesco asked quietly.

“Roth, Genco, and Tessio so far,” Clemenza answered, catching his breath. “This is gonna send fuckin’ shockwaves throughout the neighborhood.”

“My God,” your father muttered under his breath, smoothening out the sides of his slicked-back hair. “And Vito? Does Vito know yet?”

Clemenza chuckles, shaking his head. “Who do you think did it, Frankie? Vito killed Fanucci. Shot that son of a bitch right in his own apartment. Don’t worry—“ He holds up a hand, “Vito handled everything.”

“Does he need anything?” Your father offered, stepping out from behind the front counter.

“Yeah, but I have a feeling you already know what,” Clemenza shrugged his shoulders. “That bastard Fanucci took half of our dime each and every time. He still dealt with your bank, right?”

“He has an account here,” Francesco nodded.

“Good,” Clemenza put his fedora back on, adjusting it. “Because everything in Fanucci’s account needs to all go to Vito now.”

It was true that Fanucci’s death, it now meant his money and assets held at the Giordano banks had to go somewhere, and your father couldn’t agree more to it going straight to Vito.

Fanucci had been stingy and extra hard on Vito over anyone, despite Vito being understanding and gentle to counter each and every time.

Still, Fanucci took hundreds of dollars worth of cuts from Vito’s pay every single time and still threatened to have him killed at the same time.

Francesco had no pity whatsoever towards Fanucci or his family, and if Vito was going to be the one taking back the money Fanucci stole from him and everyone else, then your father would agree to let it happen.

After all, Francesco knew Vito Corleone wasn’t the kind of man to take all that money and spend it on himself.

Vito proved your father’s beliefs about the security of Fanucci’s money and assets being transferred to Vito’s accounts when he saw for himself how Vito spread the money back into the Italian-American community and only taking the exact fair share that he kept track of since Fanucci began taking it.

Afterward, Francesco closed down Fanucci’s account at his bank and erased all existence and history of it, so if the police came around to ask questions, there wouldn’t be a single answer available.

Having Fanucci killed wasn’t something your father expected to happen in 1920—not while prohibition was still ongoing—and by Vito Corleone’s hand, nonetheless.

At the time, the only exciting news for Francesco Giordano was that he was expecting his wife to give birth to twin babies in the upcoming year.

~

In 1921, you and your twin sister Gabriella were born.

Your family did not live in stress due to any direct involvement in mafia affairs or had any fears to worry about what the mafia and those associated with its lifestyle of crime were doing.

Nothing stopped your family from continuing to live out their lives as normal, peaceful, and lawful with the police and government as many see fit despite what your father had known, seen, and been involved with in the past year.

Your father promised himself that he would never do or say anything to jeopardize the safety and happiness of his family nor put his family in any situation where they would live in fear and become potential targets to anyone or anything.

After all, your father had been expecting the birth of you and your baby sister—experiencing fatherhood all over again and surprisingly to two daughters this time.

Nothing else needed to get in the way of Francesco Giordano when he was welcoming two little babies to his family. Nothing to stress out his wife either and Francesco made certain of this.

It was on June 19th, 1921 that your mother, Rosa, went into labor in the comfort of her own home for six hours to give birth to you and your twin sister.

The same nurses who helped your mother give birth to your brothers were at your mother’s side again as your father also sat with her and held your mother’s hand for comfort—wiping the sweat off of her forehead and making soft conversation.

Everyone involved kept Rosa as comfortable as they best could, remaining vigilant in observation and getting Rosa anything she may need.

“Ti amo,” (I love you) your father whispered in your mother’s ear. “Sei una donna forte e ce la farai.” (You’re a strong woman and you’re going to get through this.)

Your mother’s strength thick and thin always had your father in awe, and your father never left your mother’s side throughout the six hours of tedious and agonizing labor.

Neither of your parents will ever forget the overwhelming joy and excitement they felt hearing the nurse announce, “it’s a girl!” for the first time as your mother gave birth to you.

Your mother smiled throughout her tears as she reached out to hold you and your father teared up too, seeing that he now had a baby daughter.

Sobbing from nothing but happiness and relief, your mother held your tiny self in her arms for a few moments before her body would prepare again to give birth to your twin sister Bella in the next forty minutes.

“Gabriella, Gabriella…” Your father cooed softly, attempting to soothe you as you cried out in your mother’s arms. “Welcome to the world, my beautiful girl.”

If it was a shock to have a daughter after giving birth to so many little boys, the ultimate surprise was your parents realizing that they were having two daughters.

So many happy tears and laughter were shared in that room, relief washing over everyone and the exhaustion of labor beginning to kick in.

Your family welcomed you and your twin sister Bella to the world in 1921, and your mother and father held both you and Bella in their arms, whispering promises that they would love and protect you both no matter what; that they’d do anything to give you and your siblings a good life.

Your eldest brother, Luca, who was five years old at the time was ecstatic, as were four-year-old Romeo, Casio, and little Giani to welcome two baby sisters.

Truly, it was one of the happiest moments of your mother and father’s lives.

~

In 1922 as you and Bella were just little babies growing up, one thing had become all the more apparent to all men who lived in Long Island—particularly the Italian community and the one in Hell’s Kitchen too.

Crime families at this time had bonded and grown stronger with all the more influence now. They were too powerful to be considered Fanucci wannabees as they could no longer be reckoned with alone.

Such power and influence amidst crime families brought business and organization, but that also meant rampant crime and fear even if it was not always noticeable.

One had to be careful dealing with crime families for whatever reasons since rivalry, although relatively uncommon at the time did exist and caused enough trouble.

Your father was only allied with and close friends with Vito and the Corleone family at the time, so no rivalry concerned him.

“Let me know if you need anything else, my friend,” Francesco said, patting Vito’s shoulder. “I can find a way to get funds to you in Sicily in less than two days if needed.”

“I will be fine, Frankie. Thank you,” Vito chuckled and smiled at your father. “I’m very grateful and appreciative for all the help you’ve provided my family and me.”

“You know I can say the same to you,” Francesco nodded back. “I’m too used to seeing you down these neighborhoods. You’ll be missed, Vito Corleone, but this trip is just what you need, isn’t it? For family and for peace.”

“Exactly,” Vito reaffirmed, “I won’t put it off longer than I need to. Don Ciccio is a withered old man now but he doesn’t deserve to die from something so merciful such as old age.”

“I agree,” Francesco replied. “He is a vile and sick man obsessed with power. He always has been. Maybe once he’s finally out of the picture, the rest of us can peacefully return to Sicily for a family trip as we wish to.”

“Many have said the same to me before,” Vito frowned. “I doubt Ciccio will remember me, but that is exactly what I will use to my advantage. It didn’t have to be this way, but…” Vito stroked his chin, “I lost my entire family to that foul man.”

“You don’t need to justify it to me or anyone else, Vito,” Francesco shook his head. “His death is in your hands now. You know I would come to aid you if I could. Either way, I support you.”

“I know you would, my friend, which is why we must part ways for now,” warmth flickered in Vito’s eyes. I can’t do this to you; you just had your little girls and they need their father with them more than ever.”

“So as long as they get to see their godfather soon again,” your father grinned. “Rosa is expecting you and Carmela all ready for dinner. Mrs. Corleone is expecting now too, is she not?”

“Indeed,” Vito beamed. “And we are taking little Michael to Sicily for this time on this trip.”

At that time, Carmela Corleone was pregnant with her first and only daughter, Constanzia.

“Ah, little Michael,” your father’s eyes lit up. “No naughtiness from the little man, I hope?”

“He’s a good, quiet young man,” Vito let out a soft laugh. “This trip will give him more stories to listen to about Sicily since he won’t remember it when he’s older.”

“Of course,” your father smiled, “just keep that fiery Santino by your side.”

“Carmela says the same,” Vito pointed out. “Don’t worry, I will. He’s a good boy too, I promise, although he could benefit from learning more manners.”

“Can’t we all?” Laughing, the two men shared a farewell hug.

“Be careful and be well, Vito,” your father cautioned. “Enemies may still be lurking in Sicily, looking for you, especially if you seek revenge.”

“It’ll be as if I wasn’t even there.”

~

[ 1939, Present Day ]

The first to welcome their first children into the Corleone family with Carmela and Vito Corleone excited to welcome a grandchild are Tom and Theresa Hagen; expecting their first baby early next year.

It’s no surprise that at first all eyes were on Santino—the eldest son of the Corleone family—to settle down and start a family first instead of Tom or anyone else, despite Tom being the same age—twenty three.

The only difference between the two men in terms of settling down to have a family was that Tom is in love with an investing in his love life and marriage with Theresa, an American woman, whereas Sonny hardly knows what “settling down” means.

It’s only in Sonny’s best interest to switch from one woman to another, a one nightstand again and again with no care as to how others may see Sonny to be very promiscuous with no shame or intent to stop sleeping around to even think about marrying someone.

Celebrating the baby shower for Tom and Theresa planned today, the nature of the event to both Tom and Theresa is private and intimate, hence their invitations only being sent out to the closest friends of the Corleone family.

Only the Giordano’s, Barzini’s and Cuneo’s are invited today with the vast majority of the women helping with the cooking back inside and the men upstairs in Don Corleone’s office.

Despite the family history with the Giordano’s, this is the first time you’re attending a Corleone family event and the very first time you’ll be visiting the Corleone estate.

Your father and brothers have visited the Corleone’s numerous times previously and know them better than any other business partner or friend, but neither you nor Bella have had the opportunity to yourselves.

Bella is more than halfway through her first semester at the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna however, leaving you to be the only woman of the family next to your mother.

With the baby shower celebrations ongoing this afternoon in the courtyard of the Corleone estate to enjoy the fresh spring air and sun, men seeing Vito Corleone inside present Don Corleone with gifts meant for the expecting couple out of respect first.

Connie carefully balances one gift box over another by a table reserved just for baby shower gifts, making sure the presents don’t topple over one another from solely the sheer number of how many there are.

Arriving just five minutes after your father and brother, your chauffer passes clearance at the main gates of the Corleone estate before slowly beginning to park inside.

Your father and brothers have joined Barzini and Cuneo’s sons upstairs in Vito’s office where Sonny, Tom and Fredo also remain, but Michael—the youngest son of the Corleone family—is away at Dartmouth College for study.

Once the topic at hand ends in Vito’s office, Tom will come back out to the courtyard to thank and meet all the guests at the baby shower himself.

The rest of the men are not expected to in order to keep a low profile and spend as much time discussing business with Don Corleone as possible.

The only Corleone family member you know personally is Carmella and you’ve enjoyed every bit of time you’ve gotten to spend with her in the past when Carmela came to visit and bake desserts with you and your mother from time to time.

You know you’ll be meeting Theresa—the one expecting—and Connie Corleone as well for the first time.

“Benvenuti, miei cari!” (Welcome, my darlings!) Carmela happily blurts as she rushes down to the gates to greet you and your mother the moment you two step out of the vehicle.

“Carmela!” Your mother beams, pulling her into a warm hug. “Come stai dolcezza? È da parecchio tempo!” (How are you, honey? It’s been so long!)

“Yes, it has!” Carmela lets out a soft laugh before she cups your cheeks gently. “È passato tanto tempo perché guarda Gabriella! Adesso è diventata una bellissima giovane donna!” (It has been so long because look at Gabriella! She's all grown up now into a beautiful young woman!)

“Hi, Mama Corleone,” you giggle back, giving her a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“And you as well, honey—mwah,” Carmela kisses both of your cheeks again, “she’s grown up to be such a beauty, hasn’t she?”

“Very much so,” your mother happily agrees. “And I’m excited for her to meet your girls!”

“As am I!” Carmela gestures excitedly, “come on in, ladies. All the men are already inside seeing Vito, I doubt they’ll even bother to come step out but in any case—that doesn’t matter. We’re all very excited for Theresa expecting her little one soon!”

“How far along is she?” You ask, walking into the Corleone estate grounds with your mother and Carmela.

“She’s about seven months pregnant now,” Carmela answers. “I can’t wait to introduce you to her. I know all you lovely ladies will get along just fine!”

Before you can say anything else, you step into the Corleone estate’s courtyard with Carmela and your mother to be hit with awe from the beauty of the estate surrounding you.

A gazebo stands in the further end of the courtyard with the manor itself built in a classic American style but with small details to Italian architecture.

The courtyard in which you stand in is surrounded by a blossoming garden, spotless and filled with ample enough space to host over four hundred people comfortably.

“So beautiful,” you murmur in surprise; momentarily turning back to see your chauffer placing the carefully wrapped giftboxes filled with the presents your mother and you chose for the baby shower by the table with the other gifts.

For your baby shower gift to Tom and Theresa, you picked out an abundance of cotton diapers, two bibs, three different pacifiers and a baby mat. 

As your mother and Mama Corleone are lost in conversation, you look up to see a heavily pregnant woman—Theresa—rise up from her seat at her table with  her hand over her baby bump.

Petite frame, blonde with bright eyes and American, Theresa’s eyes land on you as another woman approaches her by her side—a Sicilian—who looks like a striking combination of Carmela and Vito combined.

You assume this must be Connie—the only daughter of the Corleone family that your mother and Mama Corleone lead you up to now for introductions.

“Here is our lovely Theresa!” Carmela gestures to the pregnant young woman. “Seven months in with her little one already. Theresa, this is the daughter of my best friend, Gabriella. Her family is from Sicily too.”

“Hello,” Theresa shyly reaches out her hand to you. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabriella.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Theresa,” you give her a polite smile, shaking her hand back. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you!” Theresa’s eyes light up.

“And this is my daughter, Connie,” Carmela introduces Connie to you next, and you immediately notice Connie is much less shyer than her sister-in-law Theresa with a sparkle of excitement in her eyes from being introduced to you.

“Hi Gabriella,” Connie grins, “are you the only daughter in your family too?”

“Not exactly,” you let out a laugh, “I have a twin sister but she’s studying abroad.”

“Ah, lucky you! I’m the only sister,” Connie gives your hand a warm squeeze.

“I know what it’s like to grow up with many brothers around you, trust me,” you giggle back, knowing from what your mother told you that the Corleone’s are almost just as big of a family as yours and with many sons.

“Tell me about it,” Connie holds back her laughter and it immediately strikes you that Connie appears to be type of woman you can easily get along with and make the best of friends with her.

Just as warm, loving and trusting as Connie seems, you also can’t push past or ignore how you pick up an explainable kind of yearning sadness behind Connie’s eyes too.

Just as you’re thinking, Connie’s yearning to make a friend with someone like you and knowing she can easily be able to do so considering how close your families are; both of you around the same age and with familiar backgrounds.

Back inside Don Corleone’s office, greetings, congratulations and humble gift giving to Vito Corleone for Tom and Theresa’s baby shower has come to an end as Tom smiles to himself and keeps the stack of guests in the corner of Vito’s office and takes his seat again near his father.

A glass of richly aged bourbon is served for all of the men and Vito’s office door remains slightly ajar to help keep the air from getting stuffy from cigarette smoke.

“But the war,” Sonny begins, unamused, “it doesn’t mean too much for us, anyway.”

“Not at all,” your father says, shaking his head. “It’s a shame with all the bloodshed going on in Europe right now, but our interests remain the same and our assets here are protected.”

“We expect a prosperous new decade of us nonetheless,” Don Barzini adds.

“As do I,” Vito agrees. “One can only be concerned so much as to what strangers abroad are doing or how they risk their lives. We must work together so there’s no war between our families and only peace.”

“I have to say,” Tom speaks up, “to have no rivalry despite working with our families and their investments is impressive, Mr. Giordano.”

“I appreciate your praise, Tom,” Francesco gives Tom a polite smile. “In this line of work, I had to be a salesman and businessman. I hope our families can continue to be civil and work with one another. I know my wife enjoys the company of our family get-togethers and it would also be good for Gabriella as well, considering her sister is in Austria.”

“Ah, how is she?” Vito’s eyes light up in interest. “Enjoying her time abroad?”

“Indeed,” your father nods happily, “Bella is taking a varieties of courses on subjects in the arts, especially music and literature It’s good for her to broaden her horizons but I miss her, and I think Gabriella does too, of course.”

“Ah, very understandable,” Don Cuneo nods.

‘Gabriella?’ Sonny blinks, thinking to himself. ‘Who is she?’

“Michael is the same,” Vito gives his shoulders a shrug. “He is at Dartmouth now and I am proud of him for entering study in political science.”

“He doesn’t wish to follow in your footsteps, Vito?” Don Barzini smirks.

“He wants no involvement whatsoever,” Vito shakes his head. “Which is more than fine with me. Michael seeks a career in politics. I say sometimes American politics can be so foolish, but Michael can also be stubborn when he wants to. Nonetheless,” Vito places his hands down upon his desk, “I’m very proud of him.”

“Indecisive, perhaps?” Your father suggests.

“Nah,” Sonny interrupts, scoffing. “Michael wants to do everything and anything.”

“He is the youngest after all,” Tom chuckles quietly. “Then my sister Connie who is the youngest child of the family.”

“Ah, the lovely Connie,” Francesco smiles warmly, “of course. Michael is a bachelor, then?”

“All my sons are, except Tom,” Vito answers, somewhat unhappy about his answer. “Perhaps that will change, won’t it, Fredo?” Vito gives Fredo a gentle pat on the shoulder.

“Sure, Pop,” Fredo says back sheepishly.

“And Santino’s a different story,” Vito continues, gesturing to his eldest son.

“I dunno,” Sonny chuckles to himself, shrugging his shoulders. “Marriage isn’t really something on my mind just yet, you know.”

“Would you like to marry in the future, though?” Don Cuneo asks him.

“I do,” Sonny nods, “have some kids, a family—settle down, yeah. Why not? I just don’t think I got any opportunity to now but I’m not the kind of man who would push it all away.”

Vito nods, staring back down at his drink in hopes the conversation about Sonny being a bachelorette will change in the next few moments, for the sake of the Corleone family’s dignity.

Vito knows everyone else in the room is just as away of Sonny’s promiscuous behaviour and lifestyle as he is, after all.

~

Out in the courtyard with the ladies and you, most of the conversation continues with your mother, Theresa and Carmela, all giddy about Theresa’s pregnancy.

“Congratulations again, honey,” your mother tells Theresa, “how has it been for you so far? An easy pregnancy, I hope.”

“A little difficult, honestly,” Theresa admits, sheepishly. “It’s improving though.”

“It will for baby number two as well,” Carmela chimes in.

You turn back to Connie and smile, inviting a conversation of your own that she starts.

“Welcome, Gabriella,” Connie says to you, “it’s honestly nice to put a name to a face at last. Mama has told me a bit about you and your sister but we surprisingly never had the chance to meet.”

“I know,” you pout, “I wish we could have met one another much sooner. My twin sister is in Austria right now, actually, so she has no chance at all yet. You know, touring Western Europe when she feels up to an adventure. I’m not so lucky or adventurous though,” you laugh.

“Neither am I,” Connie admits, “it’s refreshing to meet someone like you. What’s Bella in Austria for?”

“Art school,” you reply, smoothening out your shirtwaist dress. “Art has always been a passion for Bella, mostly music, literature and art history.”

“Must run in the family then,” Connie beams at you, “mama told me both you and your mother are artists too.”

Flattered, you nod eagerly with a smile. “We’d like to say so! It runs within the ladies of the family. I adore fine art like sculpture and art history, but personally, it’s not my passion.”

“Applied arts then, maybe?” Connie offers, growing further interested in the conversation at hand.

“Something like that,” you ponder for a moment, “I prefer painting, like mama. I’ve always loved doing so.”

“Wow,” Connie murmurs to herself, “do you have any inspirations for making art?”

“Maybe not the answer you’re looking for—” you chuckle sheepishly, “but I’d honestly have to say emotions inspire me, and my environment. Even the weather—small things like that. Artists like Van Gogh and Monet also inspire me.”

“That’s amazing,” Connie brushes back a curtain of her dark hair behind her ear. “Mama had actually been telling me earlier about the private art school your mother teaches at and…I was honestly thinking about enrolling to get a feel for myself but I wasn’t entirely too sure.”

“Definitely go for it,” you can scarcely hide the enthusiasm in your tone. “Mama would be more than happy to guide you along the way too. I still attend when I have the time and you could too for passion or for credentials. There’s something for everyone.”

“Absolutely,” your mother chimes into the conversation. “I would love to show you around the school as well, Constanzia. Someday, Gabriella will have to show you her paintings.”

“I would like that very much,” Connie smiles back politely. “I can tell she’s very talented.”

“Thank you,” you blush.

“She’s a nurse by trade, did you know that?” Mama Corleone adds, causing both Theresa and Connie’s eyes to widen in surprise.

“I am,” you admit, noticing how proud your mother looks next to you. “Practice and passion versus hobbies and passion.”

“Wow,” Theresa breathes, “that’s wonderful. How do you like nursing, Gabriella?”

“So far, so good,” you giggle quietly. “I’m fairly new to the practice but I’ve been tending to some injured soldiers lately. It’s practical, and I’m excited to see where the career takes me.”

“A nurse at a baby shower, how nice!” Theresa gushes.

~

With business conversation endlessly continuing in Vito’s office, Sonny remains to be the only one itching to get out of his seat and at least take cigarette break from the stuffy talk he has no need to contribute too.

Then again, Sonny’s more obligated to listen and consider every word coming out of Vito’s mouth wisely due to being his father’s successor and having to expect the same business talks directed towards him someday.

“You can tell Luca,” Vito gestures to Sonny, grabbing his attention. “Give him a call and let him know, since he won’t listen to Tom anyway.”

Chuckles fill the room as Sonny gives a nod, sighing in relief under his breath and beginning to rise from his seat.

You’ve just stepped into the Corleone manor for a quick bathroom break after getting some much needed directions from Connie on how to navigate the estate; unable to stop yourself from gazing and admiring the furniture and fixtures of the stunning foyer.

Remembering Connie’s words on reaching the first bathroom, you begin to head down the hallway when you momentarily stop in your tracks to sneeze.

Covering your nose, you sneeze quietly and sniffle—instantly feeling a momentary sharp prickle in your nostrils.

Blinking, you continue walking forward—albeit slowly—due to being distracted by the small throbbing pain beginning to start in your nose.

“Ugh…” You rub your nose tenderly, eyes widening in surprise to see droplets of blood over your fingers.

A split second passes before you sneeze again, realizing the culprit is the stuffy and somewhat dust filled air in the hallway getting to you.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve experienced something similar, but it annoys you to no avail nonetheless.

You cover your nose and continue heading towards where you assume the nearest bathroom is, being careful so as not to spill any blood on the mahogany floorboards or onto your dress.

“Found it yet?!” You hear Connie’s voice echo down from the foyer as she peaks her head inside the estate.

“Yes, don’t worry!” You let out a half muffled call back, spotting the bathroom at the end of the hallway.

“Alright, I’ll wait for you back outside!” Connie shouts, shutting the front door behind her.

The “yes, don’t worry!” you proclaimed out catches Sonny’s interest instantly; the sound of an unfamiliar, yet sweet voice he’s never heard before.

Stunned, Sonny’s unable to focus on anything else and drowns out the chatter and noise from Vito’s office before he exits out into the hallway and shuts the door of Vito’s office behind him.

You sneeze again, whimpering out of annoyance as you feel blood beginning to trickle from your nose.

Following every sound you make, Sonny furrows his brows and walks downstairs and towards the hallway cautiously—both hands in the pockets of his dress trousers.

Only a split second later does Sonny spot you; an unfamiliar woman with your back facing him, wearing a burgundy swing dress with white kitten heels, your hair curled over your shoulders and more peculiarly, how you clutch your hand over your nose.

“Are you alright?” Sonny speaks out to you, coming closer to step into your line of view.

You blink, assuming one of the Corleone family’s bodyguards or security must have heard you sneezing and walking around the manor by now, but when you turn around you can tell just by the posture and amused expression over the stranger’s face that he’s neither.

Sonny and you don’t know one another nor have you seen each other before. You’re not even aware of what the Corleone men’s names are besides Tom and Vito, and you just learned Tom’s today through Theresa.

Blush instantly hits your cheeks as you feel your skin warm at the sight of Sonny. This man is tall with a slim but lean, fit build; sharp shoulders giving Sonny a firm build, his hair in brunette curls and his jawline chiselled with a smirk over his face.

There’s an air of confidence over Sonny and you can already tell with just a glance that he’s someone important.

You assume just by Sonny’s body language across from you that aggressiveness isn’t unheard of from him, but he seems intrigued and even friendly towards you.

“Oh, fine, thank you,” you answer back, still covering your nose. “I didn’t imagine it to be so stuffy down here.”

Sonny chuckles, stepping closer to you before taking one hand out of his pocket to gesture around to the walls. “The walls in this place are older than you and be combined. Don’t mind that.”

You gaze up at Sonny, unable to stop yourself from blushing as he gets closer to you.

You lower your hand away from your face without even realizing it, revealing your bloody nose to Sonny.

Sonny barely reacts to the sight of blood over your face but the look upon his face that he gives you doesn’t appear the way one would gaze at a stranger or someone they’ve met for the first time; the look in Sonny’s eyes may as well tell him he’s known you his whole life.

Sonny wants to ask you if he’s seen you somewhere or if the two of you know each other from some time ago, but something urges him to keep quiet, knowing the answer must be no.

Sonny’s muscles tense from a rush of arousal hitting him at the sight of you, already wildly attracted to you with no intention of denying it.

“Here,” Sonny reaches into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a neatly folded, silk handkerchief before handing it to you. “Don’t let it bleed all over you now.”

You hesitate for a moment, not at Sonny’s kindness but the expensive cloth he’s just handed you to wipe your nose with.

A warm, playful smile crosses Sonny’s lips as he reads through your hesitancy. “You’re Gabriella, aren’t you?”

Sonny knows better. An unfamiliar woman in his house with Mr. Giordano visiting? He’s already beginning to figure you out. Luckily, he didn’t assume you’re Bella.

“I am,” blushing, you answer a little out of breath and take the silk handkerchief from Sonny. “Thank you so much…” Your voice trails off as you realize you don’t know this man’s name.

“Santino Corleone,” Sonny introduces himself t you. “But everyone calls me Sonny.”

‘So he IS a Corleone…’

“Sonny,” you repeat, feeling your cheeks stinging with blush. “Thank you.”

Sonny grins, extending out a hand to shake yours as you wipe your nose with your free one. “It’s nice to meet you at last, Miss Giordano.”

As you shake Sonny’s hand back, you feel the same current of arousal rushing through him go through you.

“We haven’t met before, have we?” Sonny finally asks, unable to shake off the belief that he’s more than just familiar with you.

“This would be the first time,” you shake your head, “it’s nice to meet you as well. I’ve yet to meet your whole family yet, but,” you smile shyly, “thank you for having us to celebrate Tom and Theresa.”

“Thanks for coming,” Sonny smirks, “you’ve probably met Theresa already but Tom will be out in a moment and then you can see him too.”

You don’t notice Sonny’s eager eyes gazing up and down at your figure a split second after.

“Were you looking for someone or something?” Sonny asks you.

“Just the bathroom,” you admit, sheepishly. “I…” Your nose has fortunately stopped bleeding, but you look at the silk handkerchief in your hand to see the crimson mess staining through it.

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” Sonny scoffs; he couldn’t care less about the damn handkerchief.

“If you insist,” you begin to carefully fold the handkerchief in the palm of your hand. “It’s just about the whole reason why I came in.”

“Fair enough,” Sonny forces his eyes off of yours, gesturing further down the hallway. “Unless the whole baby shower is waiting for you to get back, I’ll help you out here. Give you a tour of the estate and every bathroom you can find in here.”

“Oh, Mr—” you correct yourself immediately, “Sonny—I would like that very much but I don’t want to interrupt what you’re doing for something like that—”

“Believe me, I insist,” Sonny interrupts, smiling at you. “Guests come first. It’s really no problem. Let me give you a proper tour around here.”

“Alright then,” you accept, smiling back at him. “If it’s no trouble with you, I’d love to.”

“Alright then, Miss Gabriella,” Sonny moves next to you, leading the way out of the hall. “Stay close to me, alright?”

Blushing furiously, you nod back at Sonny who looks over at you behind his shoulder. “I’m with you.”

There’s no doubt about it; had you refused to go along with Santino and returned back to the baby shower or simply didn’t choose to communicate or see Sonny again after today, of course your life would be different. Either way, it would have changed.

What would you know now in this fleeting moment that couldn’t possibly mean anything else to you, trusting in this influential man son to a powerful Don that you just met, feeling as if he’s suddenly wanted to treat you as someone else in his home other than a guest?

If anyone asked years from now, you would tell them the truth. Yes, you would follow Santino Corleone to the ends of the earth, to hell if you had to and beyond that to meet him in whatever life awaited you next.

This is just the beginning of what destiny has spelled out for you side to side with a man like Santino Corleone.

But for now, you follow Sonny in hopes you’ll get to know this kind stranger and the Corleone family better, because your heart is bound to give in sooner rather than later.

[jartita-me-teneis]

¿POR QUÉ LA CANCIÓN SE LLAMA "BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY" ?...

¿POR QUÉ DURA EXACTAMENTE 5 MINUTOS 55 SEGUNDOS ?... ¿DE QUÉ TRATA REALMENTE ESTA CANCIÓN?...¿POR QUÉ LA PELÍCULA DE QUEEN SE ESTRENÓ EL 31 DE OCTUBRE?

La película se estrenó el 31 de octubre porque el single se escuchó por primera vez el 31 de octubre de 1975. Se titula así porque una "Rapsodia" es una pieza musical libre compuesta en diferentes partes y temas donde parece que ninguna parte tiene relación con la otra. La palabra "rapsodia" proviene del griego y significa "partes ensambladas de una canción". La palabra "bohemian" hace referencia a una región de la República Checa llamada Bohemia, lugar donde nació Fausto, el protagonista de la obra que lleva su nombre escrita por el dramaturgo y novelista Goethe. En la obra de Goethe, Fausto era un anciano muy inteligente que sabía todo excepto el misterio de la vida. Al no comprenderlo decide envenenarse.

Justo en ese instante suenan las campanas de la iglesia y sale a la calle. De vuelta a su habitación, se encuentra que hay un perro. El animal se transforma en una especie de hombre. Se trata del diablo Mefistófeles. Este, promete a Fausto vivir una vida plena y no ser desgraciado a cambio de su alma. Fausto accede, rejuvenece y se vuelve arrogante. Conoce a Gretchen y tienen un hijo. Su mujer e hijo fallecen. Fausto viaja a través del tiempo y espacio y se siente poderoso. Al hacerse nuevamente viejo se siente desgraciado otra vez. Como no rompió el pacto con el diablo, los ángeles se disputan su alma. Esta obra es esencial para comprender Bohemian Rhapsody.

La canción habla del propio Freddie Mercury. Al ser una rapsodia nos encontramos con 7 partes diferentes:

1er y 2o acto A Capella

3er acto Balada

4o acto solo de guitarra

5o acto ópera

6o acto rock

7o acto "coda" o acto final

La canción habla de un pobre chico que se cuestiona si esta vida es real o es su imaginación distorsionada la que vive otra realidad. Dice que aunque él deje de vivir, el viento seguirá soplando sin su existencia. Así que hace un trato con el diablo y vende su alma.

Al tomar esta decisión, corre a contárselo a su madre y le dice...

“Mamá, acabo de matar a un hombre, le puse una pistola en la cabeza y ahora está muerto. He tirado mi vida a la basura. Si no estoy de vuelta mañana sigue hacia adelante como si nada importara...” Ese hombre que mata es a él mismo, al propio Freddie Mercury.

Si no cumple el pacto con el diablo, morirá inmediatamente. Se despide de sus seres queridos y su madre rompe a llorar, lágrimas y llanto desesperado que proviene de las notas de guitarra de Brian May. Freddie, asustado grita "mamá no quiero morir" y empieza la parte operística. Freddie se encuentra en un plano astral donde se ve a sí mismo: "I see a little silhoutte of a man" (veo la pequeña silueta de un hombre).. "scaramouche, vas a montar una disputa/pelea?

Scaramouche es "escaramuza" una disputa entre ejércitos con jinetes a caballo (4 jinetes del Apocalipsis del mal luchan contra las fuerzas del bien por el alma de Freddie) y sigue diciendo "Thunderbolt and lightning very very frightening me" (truenos y relámpagos me asustan demasiado). Esta frase aparece en la Biblia, exactamente en Job 37 cuando dice... "the thunder and lightning frighten me: my heart pounds in my chest" (el trueno y el relámpago me asustan: mi corazón late en mi pecho). Su madre al verle tan asustado por la decisión que ha tomado su hijo, suplica lo salven del pacto con Mefistófeles. "Es sólo un pobre chico... “Perdona su vida de esta mostruosidad. Lo que viene fácil, fácil se va ¿le dejarás ir?" sus súplicas son escuchadas y los ángeles descienden para luchar contra las fuerzas del mal." Bismillah (palabra árabe q significa "En el nombre de Dios") es la primera palabra que aparece en el libro sagrado de los musulmanes, el Corán. Así que el mismísimo Dios aparece y grita "no te abandonaremos, dejadle marchar".

Ante tal enfrentamiento entra las fuerzas del bien y del mal, Freddie teme por la vida de su madre y le dice "Mama mia, mama mia let me go" (madre, déjame marchar). Vuelven a gritar desde el cielo que no van a abandonarle y Freddie grita "no, no, no, no, no" y dice "Belcebú (el Señor de las Tinieblas) es posible que haya puesto un diablo contigo madre". Freddie rinde aquí homenaje a Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart y Johann Sebastian Bach cuando canta... "Figaro, Magnifico" haciendo referencia a "Las Bodas de Figaro" de Mozart, considerada la mejor ópera de la historia, y al "Magnificat" de Bach. Termina la parte operística e irrumpe la parte más rockera. El diablo, colérico y traicionado por Freddie al no cumplir el pacto, le dice “Crees que puedes insultarme de esta manera? Crees que puedes acudir a mí para después abandonarme? Crees que puedes amarme y dejarme morir?”

Es estremecedor cómo el señor del mal se siente impotente ante un ser humano, ante el arrepentimiento y el amor. Perdida la batalla, el diablo se marcha y se llega al último acto o "coda" donde Freddie está libre y esa sensación le reconforta. Suena el gong que cierra la canción. El gong es un instrumento utilizado en China y extremo oriente asiático para sanar a personas que están bajo los efectos de espíritus malignos.

5:55 minutos dura. A Freddie le gustaba la astrología y el 555 en numerología está asociado con la muerte, no física, sino espiritual, el final de algo donde los ángeles te salvaguardarán. 555 está relacionado con Dios y lo divino, un final que dará comienzo a una nueva etapa.

Y la canción suena la víspera de los Santos por primera vez. Una festividad llamada "Samhain" por los celtas para celebrar la transición y apertura al otro mundo.

Los celtas creían que el mundo de los vivos y de los muertos estaban casi unidos, y el día de difuntos ambos mundos se unían permitiendo que los espíritus transitaran al otro lado. Nada en Bohemian Rhapsody es casual.

Todo está muy medido, trabajado y tiene un sentido que trasciende más allá de ser una simple canción. Ha sido votada a nivel mundial como la mejor canción de todos los tiempos.

Este tema supuso un cambio radical en Queen como si realmente hubiera hecho un pacto con el diablo, les cambió la vida para siempre y los hizo inmortales.

[ludmilachaibemachado]

June 23rd 1968 - Paul in L.A on "Apple promotion duties"

Paul went to New York on the 20th June, then onto Los Angeles on the 21st June. Ostensibly this was to promote the newly formed Apple Corps, however having arrived in New York, Paul tried to contact Linda (they'd met at the Sgt Pepper Party the year before). He couldn't initially and so he and his party went on to Los Angeles. (According to Tony Bramwell Paul had kept Linda's phone number in his wallet and was disappointed when he couldn't get in touch with her.

However, when Linda realised she'd missed Paul, she took the next plane she could to Los Angeles to catch up with him, arriving on the 22nd June (by which time Paul wasn't short of other female companionship).

"Relieved at how well it [a conference with Capitol Records which Paul had attended that morning] had gone we were ready to return to the hotel and leap into the swimming pool again. When we went into the bungalow to change, followed by the trail of girls, we were rather surprised to find Linda sitting there radiantly, totally spaced out, waiting for Paul. She had a joint in one hand and a beatific smile on her face. Paul immediately detached himselt from the circus surrounding him and took Linda aside. As I looked across the room, I suddenly saw something happen. Right before my eyes, they fell in love. It was like the thunderbolt that Sicilians speak of, the coup-de-foudre that the French speak of in hushed tones, that once-in-a-lifetime feeling.

Paul was struck almost dumb as he and Linda gazed at each other."

I'm not sure if it was quite true love at this point (Paul wasn't making any overtures about leaving Jane for Linda), but it was surely true lust. It appears Paul jilted any other girl he had around him to spend time with Linda (who included Peggy Lipton, who Paul had had a thing with previous. They spent the rest of Paul's visit together, going to the Whisky A-Go-Go, taking boat trips and spending some time in the room

Via Beatles and Cavern Club Photos FB

[sefarad-haami]

Yehoram Gaon

🇺🇸 Yehoram Gaon, born December 28, 1939, is an Israeli singer, actor, director, and media personality from a Sephardic family. He began his career in the Nahal entertainment troupe during his army service and gained fame with the musical "Kazablan." Gaon has produced nearly fifty albums, including Ladino music, and performed extensively. He starred in notable films like "Operation Thunderbolt" and entered politics in 1993, serving on the Jerusalem City Council. In 2005, he was voted the 27th-greatest Israeli of all time. His 1974 album "Romantic Ballads from the Great Judeo-Espagnol Heritage" introduced Ladino songs to Israeli audiences.

🇮🇱 Yehoram Gaon, nasido el 28 de dekiembre de 1939, es un kantador, aktor, direktor i personalidad de medya de Israel, de una familia sefardí. Empesó su karyera en la trupa de entretenimyento de Nahal durante su servisyo militar i ganó fama kon el mizikal "Kazablan." Gaon produjo serka de sinkuenta alvumos, inkluyendo muzika ladina, i aktuó extensivamente. Protagonizó filmes notables komo "Operacion Thunderbolt" i entró en politiká en 1993, sirviendo en el Konsejo de la Ciudad de Yerushalayim. En 2005, fue votado el 27-mo israeli mas grande de todos los tiempos. Su alvumo de 1974 "Baladas Romantikas del Gran Eredado Judeoespañol" introduzó kantikas ladinas a las audiencias israelís.

[sakura-code]

💛🌟Desuhiko Thunderbolt Headcanon🌟💛

He is great with fashion, from designing his own outfits to having great fashion tips

He is bisexual (female lean)

He is great at makeup and hairstyling

He is incredibly knowledgeable when it comes to the LGBTQ+ community

He owns many plushies, especially Pokémon

His family consist of a mother, a father, and two brothers

He is the middle child of the family

He had been bullied a lot when he was younger, which is part of why he was a shrinking violet as a kid

He still has some self-esteem issues in him that he tries to hide from everyone

He has a YouTube channel where he posts his music

He may be good at flirting, but he is terrible when he receives flirting back

He has excellent memorization since he is able to remember people’s faces, bodies, and even voices at just a short glance, but that is also why he is not a fan of looking at blood and bodies

His favorite movie is rom-com/his least favorite is horror

His favorite color are yellow and gold

He is very knowledgeable on clothing aesthetics and genuinely figure out what a person’s aesthetic can be after getting to know them

He sucks at writing romantic love songs, but is actually really good at writing sentimental songs

He likes to listen to Lo-Fi and Ambience music

He keeps journals on him in case he finds inspiration for music or his future biographies

He loves the sun and is a morning person (mainly because he likes to make himself look good in the morning and that takes a lot of time)

He loves to stargaze since his hometown was in the country

He can actually be good at tech such as computers and cameras, but to note, he isn’t good at the programming stuff. He’s more so good at video editing to make videos for his channel, and camera work for both his videos and mission surveillance.

He used to wear glasses and black clothing when he was younger, but now wears contact lenses and bright colors to shed away from his “gloomy kid” past self

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Alvin Childress

Alvin Childress (September 15, 1907 – April 19, 1986) was an American actor, who is best known for playing the cabdriver Amos Jones in the 1950s television comedy series Amos 'n' Andy.

Alvin Childress was born in Meridian, Mississippi. He was educated at Rust College, from which he received a Bachelor of Arts degree in sociology. When he initially entered college, Childress intended to become a doctor, enrolling in typical pre-med courses. He had no thoughts of becoming involved in acting, but became involved in theater outside of classes. Childress and Rex Ingram in the Federal Theatre Project production of Haiti (1938)

Childress's first wife was the former Alice Herndon, who established herself as a successful writer and actress under the name of Alice Childress (1916–1994); the couple was married from 1934 to 1957 and had a daughter, Jean Rosa. From 1961 to 1973, Childress worked as an unemployment interviewer for the Los Angeles Department of Personnel and in the Civil Service Commission of Los Angeles County.

Childress moved to New York City and became an actor with Harlem's Lafayette Players, a troupe of stock players associated with the Lafayette Theatre. Soon, he was engaged as an actor in the Federal Theater Project, the American Negro Theater, and in all-black race film productions such as Keep Punching (1939). His greatest success on the stage was his performance as Noah in the popular drama, Anna Lucasta, which ran for 957 performances. He also worked at Teachers College of Columbia University. Childress also operated his own radio and record store in New York City. When he learned about casting for the Amos 'n' Andy television series, Childress decided to audition for a role. He was hired a year before the show went on the air.

In 1951, he was cast as the level-headed, hard-working and honest Amos Jones in the popular television series, The Amos 'n' Andy Show, which ran for two years on CBS. Childress originally tried out for the role of The Kingfish, but Charles Correll and Freeman Gosden cast him as Amos. Since he had been hired a year before the show began, Gosden and Correll turned the search for an actor to play "The Kingfish" over to Childress. In a 1979 interview, Childress shared information about some of the candidates. Cab Calloway was considered but found wanting by Gosden because of his straight hair. Childress said there were many famous men, with and without actual acting experience, who wanted to play the role. Eventually, old-time vaudeville comedian Tim Moore was cast as the Kingfish.

Shortly after the television show had ended, plans to turn it into a vaudeville act were announced in 1953, with Childress, Williams and Moore playing the same roles as they had in the television series. It is not known if there were any performances. In 1956, after the television show was no longer in production, Childress and some of his fellow cast members: Tim Moore, Spencer Williams, and Lillian Randolph along with her choir, began a tour of the US as "The TV Stars of Amos 'n' Andy". The tour was halted by CBS as the network considered this an infringement of their rights to the program and its cast of characters. Despite the threats which ended the 1956 tour, Childress, along with Moore, Williams and Johnny Lee were able to perform one night in 1957 in Windsor, Ontario, apparently without legal action. When he tried for work as an actor, Childress found none as he was typecast as Amos Jones. For a short time, Childress found himself parking cars for an upscale Beverly Hills restaurant.

Childress also appeared in roles on the television series Perry Mason, Sanford and Son, Good Times and The Jeffersons and in the films Thunderbolt and Lightfoot (1974) and The Day of the Locust (1975). When Childress appeared as a minister in a 1972 episode of Sanford and Son, he was reunited with two former cast members: Lillian Randolph of Amos 'n' Andy in the role of Aunt Hazel and Lance Taylor, Jr. of Anna Lucasta, with the role of Uncle Edgar.

Childress suffered from diabetes and other ailments. He died at age 78 on April 19, 1986, in Inglewood, California. He was buried at National Memorial Harmony Park in Landover, Maryland.

[tawakkull]

SPIRITUALITY IN ISLAM: PART 5:  MUHASABA (SELF-CRITICISM OR SELF-INTERROGATION)

Muhasaba literally means reckoning, settling accounts, and self-interrogation. In a spiritual context, however, it takes on the additional meaning of the self-criticism of a believer who constantly analyzes his or her deeds and thoughts in the hope that correcting them will bring him or her closer to God.

Such a believer thanks God for the good he or she has done, and tries to erase his or her sins and deviation by imploring God for forgiveness and amending his or her errors and sins through repentance and remorse. Muhasaba is the very important and serious attempt of asserting one’s personal loyalty to God.

It is recorded by Muhy al-Din ibn al-‘Arabi, author of al-Futuhat al-Makkiya (The Makkan Conquests), that during the early centuries of Islam, righteous people would either write down or memorize their daily actions, thoughts, and words, and then analyze and criticize themselves for any evil or sin they had committed. They did this to protect themselves from the storms of vanity and the whirls of self-pride. They would ask God’s forgiveness after this self-analysis, and would repent sincerely so that they might be protected against future error and deviation. Then they would prostrate in thankfulness to God for the meritorious deeds or words that the Almighty had created through them.

Self-criticism may also be described as seeking and discovering one’s inner and spiritual depth, and exerting the necessary spiritual and intellectual effort to acquire true human values and to develop the sentiments that encourage and nourish them.

This is how one distinguishes between good and bad, beneficial and harmful, and how one maintains an upright heart. Furthermore, it enables a believer to evaluate the present and prepare for the future. Again, self-criticism enables a believer to make amends for past mistakes and be absolved in the sight of God, for it provides a constant realization of self-renewal in one’s inner world. Such a condition enables one to achieve a steady relationship with God, for this relationship depends on a believer’s ability to live a spiritual life and remain aware of what takes place in his or her inner world. Success results in the preservation of one’s celestial nature as a true human being, as well as the continual regeneration of one’s inner senses and feelings.

A believer, in his or her spiritual and daily life, cannot be indifferent to self-criticism. On the one hand, he or she tries to revive his or her ruined past with the breezes of hope and mercy blown by such Divine calls as:

Repent to God (24:31)

and:

Turn to Your Lord repentant (39:54),

which come from the worlds beyond and echo in his or her conscience. On the other hand, warnings as frightening as thunderbolts and as exhilarating as mercy are contained in such verses as:

O you who believe! Fear God and observe your duty to Him. And let every soul consider what it has prepared for the morrow (59:18)

bring the believer to his or her senses and make one alert once again (against committing new sins). In such a condition, a believer is defended against all kinds of evil, as if enclosed behind locked doors.

Taking each moment of life to be a time of germination in spring, a believer seeks ever-greater depth in his or her spirit and heart with insight and consciousness arising from belief. Even if a believer is sometimes pulled down by the carnal dimension of his or her being and falters, he or she is always on the alert, as is stated in:

Those who fear God and observe His commandments, when a passing stroke from Satan troubles them, they immediately remember (God), and lo! they are all aware (7:201).

Self-criticism resembles a lamp in the heart of a believer, a warner and a well-wishing adviser in his or her conscience.

Every believer uses it to distinguish what is good and evil, beautiful and ugly, pleasing and displeasing to God. Through the guidance of this well-wishing adviser, the believer surmounts all obstacles, however seemingly insurmountable, and reaches the desired destination.

Self-criticism attracts Divine mercy and favor, which enables one to go deeper in belief and servanthood, to succeed in practicing Islam, and to attain nearness to God and eternal happiness.

It also prevents one from falling into despair, which will ultimately lead to reliance on personal acts of worship to be saved from Divine punishment in the Hereafter.

As self-criticism opens the door to spiritual peace and tranquillity, it also causes one to fear God and His punishment.

In the hearts of those who constantly criticize themselves and call themselves to account for their deeds, this Prophetic warning is always echoed:

If you knew what I know, you would laugh little but weep a lot. [ Al-Bukhari, “Kusuf,” 2; Muslim, “Salat,” 112; Abu ‘Isa Muhammad ibn ‘Isa al-Tirmidhi, “Kusuf,” in Sunan, 4 vols. (Beirut, n.d.), 2. ]

Self-criticism, which gives rise to both peacefulness and fear in one’s heart, continuously inspires anxiety in the hearts of those who are fully aware of the heavy responsibility they feel the anxiety voiced as in:

If only I had been a tree cut into pieces. [ Al-Tirmidhi, “Zuhd,” 9; Muhammad ibn Yazid al-Qazwini Ibn Maja, “Zuhd,” in Sunan, 2 vols. (Egypt, 1952), 19. ]

Self-criticism causes the believer to always feel the distress and strain expressed in:

Earth seemed constrained to them for all its vastness, and their own souls straitened to them (9:118).

The verse:

Whether you make known what is in your souls or hide it, God will bring you to account for it (2:284)

resounds in every cell of their brains, and they groan with utterances like:

I wish my mother had not given birth to me! [ Muhammad Ibn Sa’d, Al Tabaqat al-Kubra, 8 vols. (Beirut, 1980), 3:360. ]

While it is difficult for everyone to achieve this degree of self-criticism, it is also difficult for those who do not do so [to be sure that they will be able] to live today better than yesterday, and tomorrow better than today. Those who are crushed between the wheels of time, whose present day is not better than the preceding one, cannot perform well their duties pertaining to the afterlife.

Constant self-criticism and self-reprimand show the perfection of one’s belief.

Everyone who has planned his or her life to reach the horizon of a perfect, universal human being is conscious of this life and spends every moment of it struggling with himself or herself. Such a person demands a password or a visa from whatever occurs to his or her heart and mind. Self-control against the temptations of Satan or the excitement of temper are practiced, and words and actions are carefully watched. Self-criticism is constant, even for those acts that seem most sensible and acceptable. Evening reviews of words and actions during the day are the rule, as are morning resolutions to avoid sins. A believer knits the “lace of his or her life” with the “threads” of self-criticism and self-accusation. [ 7 In other words, all moments of one’s life are spent in self-criticism and con-stant awareness of what one says and does.Mar 1992, Vol 14, Issue 158 ]

So long as a believer shows such loyalty and faithfulness to the Lord and lives in such humility, the doors of heaven will be thrown open and an invitation will be extended: Come, O faithful one. You have intimacy with Us. This is the station of intimacy. We have found you a faithful one. Every day he or she is honored with a new, heavenly journey in the spirit. It is God Himself Who swears by such a purified soul in: Nay, I swear by the self-accusing soul! (75:2).

[spanishskulduggery]

Spanish Vocab List - El bosque de la bruja / The Witch’s Forest

I started this list all “let’s talk about trees and flowers” and then it took a hard turn into “now say you meet Baba Yaga in the forest...” and I’m not going to apologize for the spoopy witchy vibes

la bruja = witch [also technically you can see/use el brujo for “male witch” or “warlock” though often “witch” in English comes across as distinctly feminine]

el aquelarre = a coven, a witches’ coven

la hora bruja = the witching hour la hora de brujas = the witching hour

la brujería = witchcraft

el curandero, la curandera = healer [sometimes santero/a which has multiple meanings - it can be “witchdoctor” but also a practitioner of santería which is a mix of religious and folk traditions]

el hechicero, la hechicera = sorcerer, sorceress

el mago, la maga = mage / magician

el encanto = enchantment, charm / magic spell

el hechizo = magic spell, charm, hex

la maldición = curse

el maleficio = curse

el mal de ojo = evil eye

la caldera = cauldron [or “caldera” of a volcano]

el ermitaño, la ermitaña = hermit, recluse

la escoba = broom

la magia = magic

mágico/a = magic, magical

el hado = Fate los hados = the Fates

el hada, las hadas = fairy, fairies el hada madrina = fairy godmother

el/la vidente = seer el clarividente, la clarividente = clairvoyant, seer

el/la médium = spirit medium

la nigromancia = necromancy el/la nigromante = necromancer

la rueca = spinning wheel

la manzana envenenada = poison apple

malvado/a = evil, wicked

malo/a = bad, evil

bueno/a = good

la guarida = lair, den

lanzar un hechizo/encanto/maleficio = to cast a spell/charm/curse

la poción = potion

elaborar = to brew, to create  [in other contexts it’s “to elaborate”, but in the context of food or drink it means “to make” in the sense of “to labor over” - the idea here is that it requires time and effort to fully make it and get everything right, so it’s used for “brewing alcohol” or any mixture that requires significant time or specialized creation, and potion making in a fantasy setting]

~

el bosque = the woods / forest / woodland el bosquecillo = small forest [sometimes “copse of trees”]

la selva = forest [often more wild] / jungle

el jardín = garden

el huerto (de fruta / de frutales) = orchard el huerto = vegetable garden, personal garden [el huerto generally means “a garden for growing food” and can be either “(vegetable) garden” or “orchard”, but in English an “orchard” is specifically more “fruit”; but it could be either]

la arboleda = grove, collection of trees

el sol = sun

la luna = moon

la estrella = star

la nube = cloud

la lluvia = rain

la nieve = snow

la tormenta = storm la tempestad = storm, tempest

el rayo = lightning / bolt, lightning bolt, thunderbolt

el trueno = thunder

el granizo = hail / hailstone

la niebla = fog

la neblina = mist, fog

~

el amanecer = dawn

la mañana = morning

el mediodía = midday, noon

la tarde = afternoon / evening

el atardecer = evening

el crepúsculo = twilight

la noche = night

la medianoche = midnight

la madrugada = early morning, the wee hours of the morning

la víspera = eve (of something), the night before

el ocaso = sunset

diurno/a = day (adj), daytime / diurnal, awake during the day

nocturno/a = night (adj), nighttime / nocturnal, awake at night [as a general example las clases nocturnas mean “night classes” which is literally “classes at night”... as opposed to las clases diurnas which would mean “daytime classes”; in the context of school you could say tengo una clase nocturna y otras diurnas “I have one night class and others during the day”]

~

el árbol = tree arbóreo/a = arboreal, related to trees

el arbusto = shrub, shrubbery

el seto = hedge

la madera = wood

el tronco = trunk / log [also in anatomy “torso”]

el tocón = stump (of a tree)

la leña = firewood, log (for firewood usually) el leño = a log el leñador, la leñadora = woodcutter, lumberjack

la corteza = bark (of a tree) [also means “crust” for bread or the earth]

la copa (de árbol) = canopy las copas = canopy (of many trees)

la rama = branch

la raíz = root

la savia = sap [sometimes it also means “lifeblood” or “vitality” or “vigor”]

la hoja = leaf [or “blade”, or “sheet of paper”]

la flor = flower

el pétalo = petal

la semilla = seed

el tallo = stalk / stem

la hierba = grass / herb [sometimes spelled yerba] el césped = grass, lawn

la hierba mala = weed [lit. “bad grass”]

la especia = spice

la vid = vine

marchitado/a = withered, shriveled, dried up

la espina = thorn espinoso/a = thorny

la baya = berry

la hiedra = ivy la hiedra venenosa = poison ivy

el hongo = mushroom, fungus la seta = mushroom, toadstool el champiñón = mushroom [idk if it’s used everywhere but you see this at least in Spain for edible mushrooms sometimes]

el moho = mold

el musgo = moss

el liquen = lichen

la zarza = bramble, briar

silvestre = wild, growing in the wild

comestible = edible

el veneno = poison, venom envenenar = to poison venenoso/a = poisonous, venomous envenenado/a = poisoned, having poison in it

letal, mortal = deadly

~

el roble = oak

el arce = maple

el sauce = willow el sauce llorón = weeping willow

el fresno = ash tree

la pícea = spruce

el acebo = holly

la haya = beech

el pino = pine tree

el corno / el cornejo = dogwood

el álamo = poplar

el alcornoque = cork tree

la adelfa = oleander

la secoya = sequoia / redwood

el mangle = mangrove el manglar = mangroves [a collection of mangroves]

~

la rosa = rose

la violeta = violet

el lirio = lily [sometimes la azucena]

el jacinto = hyacinth

la hortensia = hydrangea

el girasol = sunflower

la malva = mallow [malva can also be “mauve”; also el malvavisco is “marshmallow”... literally “sticky/goopy/viscous mallow”]

la malvarrosa = hollyhock

el botón de oro = buttercup [lit. “gold button”]

la digital = foxglove

el narciso = daffodil, narcissus

la lavanda = lavender

la lila = lilac

la nomeolvides = forget-me-not

el loto = lotus

la menta = mint

la caléndula = marigold

la belladonna = nightshade

el acónito = aconite / aconitum, monk’s hood, wolf’s bane el matalobos = wolf’s bane [lit. “kills wolves”]

el muérdago = mistletoe

el rocío = dew, dewdrop, morning dew

el ajo = garlic el diente de ajo = clove of garlic [lit. “tooth of garlic”]

la cebolla = onion

la calabaza = pumpkin / gourd

el maíz = corn [also el elote in some countries] la mazorca = corncob, ear of corn

el trigo = wheat

la salvia = sage

el jengibre = ginger

la canela = cinnamon

el diente de león = dandelion [lit. “lion’s tooth”]

la escoba de bruja = witch hazel [lit. “witch’s broom”] el avellano de bruja = witch hazel [lit. “witch’s hazel”]

la pimienta = pepper [spice]

la sal = salt rociar sal = to sprinkle salt espolvear sal = to sprinkle salt / to dust with salt

~

la hoz = sickle

el arado = plow

la hoguera = bonfire / campfire, fire pit

el hogar = home / hearth

la guadaña = scythe

la cosecha = harvest

el arco = bow / arch

la flecha = arrow

el mortero = mortar el molcajete = mortar [some countries, especially Mexico]

la mano = pestle [otherwise it’s “hand”]

el mortero y mano = mortar and pestle

moler = to grind molido/a = ground

el molino = mill

la tabla / el tablón = floorboard, wooden board

la viga = beam / rafter

el umbral = threshold

el muro = wall, outside wall, boundary line

la cerca = fence la valla = fence

la ciudad = city

el pueblo = town / people, population

la aldea = town, small town

la frontera = frontier, border

el claro = clearing (in a forest), glade

la choza = hut

la casita = little house la cabaña = cabin / cottage

la granja = farm

la finca = plantation, estate, farmhouse

la paja = straw el tejado de paja = thatched roof [lit. “straw roofing”]

el taller = workshop

~

la cueva = cave

la caverna = cavern

la gruta = grotto / undercroft

la roca = rock

la piedra = stone

el monte = hill, mountain / wilderness, forested area

la montaña = mountain

la sierra = mountain range [or a “saw” as a tool]

la colina = hill

la falda = slope [in clothes la falda is “skirt”]

el pantano = swamp / bog / mire

la ciénaga = swamp / bog / mire

el lodo = mud lodoso/a = muddy

el fango = mud / silt fangoso/a = muddy

el río = river el riachuelo = little river, stream

el lago = lake

el estanque = pond

el arroyo = stream el arroyuelo = brook, creek

el mar = sea

el océano = ocean

la orrilla = shore

la marea = tide

la arena = sand

~

el ciervo = deer, stag la cierva = deer, doe

el venado = deer [can exist in feminine as well... this word also sometimes gets translated as “hart”; also sometimes venado is the word for “venison” or deer meat]

el lobo, la loba = wolf [la loba is sometimes “she-wolf” in some contexts]

el oso, la osa = bear [la osa is sometimes “she-bear”]

el búho = owl

la lechuza = owl [thing barn owls or snowy owls; the owls with a flatter looking face; a Lechuza is also sometimes a witch or evil spirit who snatches children said to be bird-like]

el cuervo = crow la corneja = raven [in general, el cuervo is used for both “crow” and “raven” even in literature, though el cuervo and la corneja are different technically]

el murciélago = bat

el sapo = toad

la rana = frog

la serpiente = snake, serpent la víbora = viper, snake la culebra = snake [more literary]

el conejo = rabbit la liebre = hare, rabbit

el gato, la gata = cat

la rata / el ratón = rat, mouse [largely interchangeable]

la mosca = fly

el mosquito = mosquito

la luciérnaga = firefly, lightning bug

la libébula = dragonfly

la pluma = feather

el diente = tooth

el colmillo = fang

el ala = wing [technically feminine; el ala, las alas]

la lengua = tongue

el hueso = bone

la calavera / el cráneo = skull

el cuerno = horn

el asta, las astas = antler, antlers [technically feminine]

la piel = skin / hide, fur [also piel can be “leather”; also the word el cuero is “leather” though not always as common]

el caracol = shell, seashell

el caparazón = shell, carapace

el polvo = dust

la ceniza = ash

la sangre = blood

~

el enano, la enana = dwarf

el elfo, la elfa = elf

el fantasma = ghost

el gigante = giant

el ogro = ogre

el trol = troll [creature and internet troll]

hermoso/a = beautiful apuesto/a = handsome, good-looking

bello/a = beautiful [more intense than hermoso/a]

embrujado/a = bewitched / haunted

la casa embrujada = haunted house la casa encantada = haunted house

la fiera = fiend, beast, wild animal fiero/a = wild, ferocious

feroz = ferocious, wild

la bestia = beast

el monstruo = monster

el castillo = castle

la torre = tower

la mazmorra = dungeon el calabozo = dungeon [in modern Spanish el calabozo is the word for “holding cells” in a police office or a place where someone is detained; in older Spanish it can be used as “dungeon”]

el don = gift

el poder = power, ability poderoso/a = powerful, mighty

el truco = trick

la moraleja = moral

encantar = to enchant / to delight

convocar = to summon

conceder = to grant, to bestow / to concede

bendecir = to bless bendito/a = blessed

maldecir = to curse maldito/a = cursed

[ericdeggans]

The Peabody Awards 2024: Learning how "Stories That Matter" is so much more than a catchy slogan

(The author with Reservation Dogs executive producer Taika Waititi, Peabody judges Hannah Giorgis and Lorraine Ali, Peabody staffer Maggie Stephens and, below, Rita Ora and Kali Reis)

Midway through the ceremony, a thunderbolt struck in the form of a passionate speech from Sir Patrick Stewart, reminding me exactly why the George Foster Peabody Awards are such a special experience for judges, winners, staffers who works on the honors and media itself.

As a former judge and chair of the board of jurors, I had traveled to Los Angeles for the first Peabody awards held in person since the COVID lockdowns of 2020. It was also the awards’ first time taking place in Los Angeles, signaling a shift from the news-centered operation of old to a more Hollywood friendly production. And it happened to be the first awards ceremony since I stepped down as chair of the jurors in 2019, rotated off the panel – as is customary - after six years of service. (I was the first African American to hold the chair's job, in fact.)

It is tough to describe what a special experience it is to be among the judges helping hand out such a prestigious honor. The first time I served, among the projects we gave prizes to were House of Cards and Scandal – two shows which heralded the rise of streaming and the impact of diversity on television. I was part of the panel which decided to hand special honors to Jon Stewart, Rita Moreno and Carol Burnett at various times, recognizing the world-shaking impact of legendary performers and satirists.

Deliberations take place over three separate weeks in different locations, with our debates centered on impact, originality, scope, quality, substance and diversity — among other considerations — always with an eye on what the bright light of a Peabody win might accomplish when trained on a deserving project.

(The Peabody judging panel during my last year in the group.)

At the end, judges must have watched/consumed every entry under consideration and we must agree unanimously. With a judging panel that ranged from world class academics to high achievers in media, expert journalists and critics and more, we bonded like rowdy siblings at a media nerd’s ideal summer camp.

(Chilling with Tony Goldwyn and Jeff Perry from Scandal during my very first Peabody awards ceremony in 2014.)

But when Sir Patrick rose in the middle of Sunday’s ceremony to speak eloquently of the amazing work on display in the acceptance speeches of winners, I realized why the Peabodys were truly special. Conceived as the electronic/broadcasting/TV equivalent of the Pulitzer Prizes, the Peabodys this evening united Hollywood favorites like FX’s The Bear and HBO’s The Last of Us with searing journalism, like the PBS NewsHour’s coverage of war in Gaza or Tennessee investigative reporter Phil Williams’ dogged exposure of a mayoral candidate’s ties to white supremacists in a tony Nashville suburb.

Ravish Kumar, the news anchor in India who serves as the centerpiece for the POV documentary While We Watched, gave a passionate speech criticizing mainstream news outlets in his home country for enabling Hindu nationalism by spreading misinformation. Ron Nyswaner, creator and showrunner for Showtime’s LGBTQ-focused limited series Fellow Travelers, talked on how “art is about trying to make people think and feel.”

And Larry Wilmore, co-creator of Black-ish and host of the late, lamented Comedy Central news satire The Nightly Show, cracked a joke on how supremely compromised Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas is kind of a dick. (Hey, everything can’t be highbrow during a three-hour show).

It occurred to me, that too many Hollywood awards shows are mostly about the star power and glamour of supremely acclaimed stars. Don’t get me wrong: it was gratifying and heartwarming to see the entire place leap to their feet for enduring icon and Career Achievement awards winner Mel Brooks, or Donald Glover presenting the Trailblazer award to his good friend Abbott Elementary star/creator Quinta Brunson or – for this Star Trek nerd anyway – the astonishing sight of watching castmembers/producers from Picard, Discovery, Enterprise and other corners of Trek gather onstage for the Institutional Award.

(The Star Trek crew, including LeVar Burton, Rebecca Romijin and Jeri Ryan, at the Peabody awards Sunday.)

But the secret sauce of the Peabodys is the way it utilizes Hollywood glamour to shine a light on quality journalism and public service programming like the micro-documentary series The Hidden Racism in New York City or PBS Frontline’s reporting on America and the Taliban or Dallas-Fort Worth NBC station KXAS’ look at how an organization of sheriffs were quietly radicalizing law enforcement officers across the state.

So, even though I’m no longer taking part in the long hours of viewing and debate required to pick these standout honorees – and it is part of the deal that every judge has to agree on every winner and finalist – I couldn’t be prouder of the selections my successors have assembled. We are all now part of a family dedicated to upholding the best in media, highlighting important work in a way almost no other modern awards ceremony can do.

(Me at this year's Peabody awards.)

See the list of Peabody winners HERE.

[georgiapeach30513]

Sebastian was spotted in Los Feliz via Sunday spotted. Seems he’s been in LA since the Fresh event. Do you think he’s done filming Thinderbolts already?

He’s not done filming Thunderbolts. Like I said, he’s not the only one that’s not been on set. David has been filming Stranger Things.

[fictional-actors-bracket]

Matchups round 1

The round 1A will release 15th of May, at 5pm GMT. Next quarter will start at the end of the previous one.

Round 1A

LilyMu, Kappa Mikey vs Wacky Delly, Rocko's Modern Life

The Fatheads, Rocko's Modern Life vs Romeo and Jules, Degrassi

Scott Pilgrim's Precious Little Musical, Scott Pilgrim Takes Off vs Last Planet, A3!

No Dames, Hail, Caesar vs I Want To Be Your Canary, Final Fantasy IX

Nocturnality, A3! vs The Bloodening, The Simpsons

Rogers: The Musical, Hawkeye (TV) vs Spy Wars, Spy x Family

Barbeque Monologues, Nerdy Prudes Must Die vs The Duchess Approves, Gravity Falls

The Steel Samurai, Ace Attorney vs Darkwing Duck, Ducktales (2017)

Round 1B

Galaxy Quest, Galaxy Quest (1999) vs South. Hill. Prison, A3!

Single Female Lawyer, Futurama vs Crying Breakfast Friends, Steven Universe

Praying Mantis Joe, Zach Bell vs Kniroun, A3!

Nightless Night, Alan Wake 2 vs The Nice Man Giveth, The Simpsons

The Boy in the Iceberg, Avatar: The Last Airbender vs Starfarer, Lego Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu

The Grey Ghost, Batman: The Animated Series vs Don Juan Triumphant, Phantom of the Opera

Santa Claus is Goin to Highschool, Hatchettfield series vs McBain, The Simpsons

Dangeresque 1: Dangeresque Too?, Homestar Runner vs The Adventures of Herbert "Daring" Dashwood and his Ghoul Manservant Argyle, Fallout 3

Round 1C

Hello Megan!, Young Justice vs Kill it Before it Dies, Charmed

MacKenzie Falls, Sonny with a chance vs Komedie Brute, Six of Crows

Reptar, Rugrats vs Sort Cinderella, Fruits Basket

Bolt, Bolt vs Camp Pining Hearts, Steven Universe

Horse in a Bookcase, Phineas and Ferb vs Joker (Theatre performance), Dungeons and Daddies

The Most Lamentable Comedy, and Most Cruel Death of Pyramus and Thisbe, A Midsummer Nights Dream vs Hail, Ceasar! A Tale of the Christ, Hail, Caesar!

Where are my pants?, The Lego Movie vs Musical Husbands, Merrily We Roll Along

Night Springs, Alan Wake vs The Thunderbolt Adventure Hour, 101 Dalmatians

Round 1D

The Adventures of Nuktuk, Hero of the South, The Legend of Korra vs Asteroid City, Asteroid City

The Rusty Venture Show, The Venture Bros. vs Los Dias y las Noches de Monsigñor Martinez, King of the Hill

The Mousetrap, Hamlet vs The Trial of Captain Hook, Arrested Development

Ducktective, Gravity Falls vs All My Circuits, Futurama

Ponce de Leon, Seinfeld vs Everybody Loves Hypnotoad, Futurama

Grolton and Hovris, Don't Hug Me I'm Scared vs Romeo Battle Royale, Project Sekai

Mac and C.H.E.E.S.E, Friends vs Hannibal, The Phantom of the Opera

Omlette: The Musical, Something Rotten! vs Scarlet Mirror, A3!

[jasrussell]

BASIC INFORMATION.

full name: jaswinder russell

nickname: jas, thunderbolt ( exclusively by ravi ), jazzy

age: twenty six

birth date: july 17th 1998

birth place: aurora bay

nationality: american

gender: cis female

pronouns: she / her

orientation: bisexual

neighbourhood: fisher’s cove

occupation: stand-up comedian

time in town: her entire life up until 2022 and then returned end of july 2024

@aurorabayaesthetic

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: geraldine viswanathan

hair colour: dark brown

eye colour: dark brown

height: 5'6"

build: petite

scars: n/a

tattoos: a small tattoo of the sun on her wrist for her brother

piercings: jas her nose and ears pierced

FAMILY.

parents: advika russell ( nee mohiuddin ) , arthur russell

siblings: ravi russell

PERSONALITY TRAITS.

+ venturesome, independent, creative - loquacious, dramatic, impulsive

HISTORY.

Jaswinder Russell was always an unconventional child with unconventional dreams. While her friends and family had dreams of becoming doctors, lawyers and actors, Jas had had her sights set on something else—a medium.

It was a dream born from binge watching shows such as Ghost Whisperer and Medium that would last all of six months. One night she had convinced Ravi to watch The Shining with her. Jas only made it through the first act before she was crying into Arthur’s lap. This would be the beginning of a string of pipeline careers for Jas that would make her a jack of all trades, but master of none.

A girl born with a sharp tongue and a quick wit, Jas was always cracking people up—which often landed her in trouble at school for being deemed too disruptive in class and landed her in hot water with her parents every time parent-teacher conference rolled around.

Advika and Arthur were never angry—only disappointed and occasionally frustrated that their daughter chose to waste her high school education on acting like the class clown. Jas was happy to coast along, her grades never suffered but she never truly excelled in any subjects during her high school career, she graduated with grades high enough for her diploma but knew college was an unlikely route.

Jas has drifted through most of her life, shrugging her shoulders at questions about her future and career path. She wasn't like Ravi—with his passion for cooking and experimenting in the kitchen. Jas had a hundred passions and interests, but none that she ever considered herself interested or passionate enough to pursue a career.

Until 2019 when she started posting skits about growing up with her Muslim Mom on TikTok. ( Think Laura Ramoso on TikTok with her German Mom TikToks. ) It was a project created to let her creative juices flow after feeling aimless and lost for several years, not knowing what she wanted to do with her life. Jas soon found her TikTok's gaining traction with likes, comments and views skyrocketing into the high millions within a couple of weeks of beginning to post them.

Shortly after her TikTok catapulted her onto almost everyone's FYP, Jas took her skit and quick wit to local bars for their comedy nights to flex her comedic muscles and test the waters at stand-up comedy. Her jokes were an instant hit with the audience and quickly earned Jas the coveted Thursday night comedy slot at a local comedy club.

In 2022 Jas applied for a spot in a comedy showcase in Los Angeles to win a chance at taking her act on tour with other new voices in comedy just like her. For the first time in her life, Jas had won something and she had finally found something she was passionate about. After winning the showcase, Jas went on tour mid-2023 and has been touring the country with her popular comedy act until she returned home to Aurora Bay recently after the tour's final date in New York.

TIDBITS.

her favourite ice cream flavour is pistachio and is an avid lover of all things matcha flavoured.

jas learned about their estranged family from ravi, not advika and arthur. she stands firm on the feeling being mutual—if they don't want to know her, then she doesn't want to know them either.

doesn't consider herself muslim or christian but considers her faith to be somewhere in the middle—practices aspects of both religions but doesn't consider herself to be devout in either

comedy heroes that she aspires to be half as good as are mindy kaling, margret cho, jen brister, sindhu vee and quinta brunson.

one of her dreams is to book a guest role on abbott elementary

big time yapper

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

GENERAL

friends from growing up in aurora bay / high school friends / colleagues from summer jobs growing up / tiktok followers / friends of her brother / best friends / ride or dies / / people she met on tour / rivals / enemies

ROMANTIC

first kiss / unrequited love / tinder matches / exes / one night stands / flirtationships / situationships / bad dates / friends with benefits / enemies to lovers / high school exes / first love / etc

ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS.

new roommate of @noah-atwood

tiktok friends with @reggiellewellyn

[etymology-of-the-emblem]

Giant Katar / 巨刃 and Vajra-Mushti / ヴァジュラ

The Giant Katar is an Agarthan weapon designed for the Titanus automatons. A Katar is a type of push dagger—a dagger with a "T handle" that, when gripped, has the blade face out from the holder's knuckles. For context, the design of the Killer Knuckles is similar to a katar or push dagger. The katar is the most famous dagger originating from the Indian subcontinent not for its combat, but its symbolic use. Originally designed as an armor-piercing weapon, come the seventeenth century the katar was regularly carried by the nobility as both a status symbol and as means of self defense.

In Japanese, the Giant Katar is called 巨刃ジャマダハル (rōmaji: kyojin jamadaharu), literally meaning "Giant Blade Jamadhar." To start, the kanji 巨刃 when put together are phonetically similar to 巨人 (rōmaji: kyojin), meaning "giant person; titan," referencing the size of its wielder. A jamadhar is another name for a katar; it is believed to mean "death edge" combining the Sanskrit words जम jam (death) and धार dhára (edge of a blade). A less common theory mentioned on the Japanese Wikipedia article is that it ultimately derived from यम yamá and either daushtra, a supposed word for 'tooth' (only listed in articles pushing the same theory) or dhára. In Hindu mythology, Yama is the god of death and justice; it is said that he was the fist mortal born and the first mortal to die. Similarly to the Greek Hades, Yama is not portrayed as an evil entity, but the judge to determine where one goes when they die. It's possible that the mere association with death is what caused this weapon to be associated with the Agarthans, again like Hades.

The Vajra-Mushti, or simply the Vajra in Japanese (ヴァジュラ; rōmaji: vajura) are the replica Hero's Relics tied to the Crest of Chevalier. In Hinduism and Buddhism, a vajra is a sacred symbol said to be the weapon (typically a mace) of Indra. It is supposed to share the indestructible nature of diamonds and the destructive force of a thunderbolt, making it regarded as the most powerful weapon in Hinduism. Indra used the vajra to slay the serpent-like Vritra, his mortal enemy. According to the puranas, the original vajra was crafted from the bones of the sage Dadhichi, who received unbreakable bones from the god Shiva. This is rather appropriate given the method of the Heroes' Relics' creation.

A vajra-mushti, also called an Indra-musti, is a fist-type weapon or "mushtikai" like a katar. Rather than the blade protruding from the front, the vajra-mushti blended the knuckleduster's offensive ridge on the knuckles and sharp blades extending from the sides when used in general warfare. Vajra-mushti also referred to the sport of wrestling while using the weapon of the same name, which arose in the twelth-century. This was a very popular sport for the nobles of India to watch and support, alongside the bare-handed malla-yuddha. Jyeṣṭīmalla was the name given to the practitioners of both Indian wrestling sports, and in time they would be the go-to choice of bodyguard amongst the men who watched them.

Eviscerate is the combat art tied to the Vajra-Mushti, which is simply another word for disemboweling a creature, but also has been used as a general term for destruction in modern times. The latter use may relate to the Vajra's great destructive powers, while the former may refer to how the Vajra was crafted from the spine of Dadhichi; thus his body needed to be eviscerated to reach what would become the most powerful weapon in the world. In Japanese, the combat art is called 魔拳 (rōmaji: maken) meaning either "Magic Fist" or "Demon Fist". This doesn't stand out as any particular reference to anything beyond the combat art being able to target resistance; neither kanji really relates to Indra, the Devas, or the asura. It may be that the name is meant to evoke the similar-sounding phrase 負けん気 (rōmaji: makenki), referring to the "competitive spirit", rivalry, and the general sentiment of not wanting to lose. This can relate to both to the disposition of the King of Grappling that uses the (replica) Hero's Relic and the competitive nature of the actual sport of vajra-mushti. One could also relate to the "competition" between the asura and the Devas.

This was a segment from a larger document reviewing the name of most every weapon and item in Three Houses and Three Hopes. Click Here to read it in full.