#am i posting this on fourth of july and the reader moved to america?

[murdockparker]

A Million Dreams

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: He didn’t believe he could be so taken with her, taken with such a lady of the ton. If only she were to stay in London, stay with him.

Word Count: 3.3k

Prompts:  21. “You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

80.“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

Warnings: fluff, angst, heartbreak (still has a happy ending I promise!)

A/N: okay so, for the prompts, I loosely followed the first one (aka didn’t use it word for word lol sorry) so.... anywayyyyyy.... enjoy? 

__

Courting came so easily to him, he realized. Benedict Bridgerton didn’t anticipate the possibility of courting this season, but when his eyes met with the ever elusive Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he was smitten. Something in his gut was telling him to go over to her, to ask for a dance, to charm her off her feet. Never had he felt like this, especially at any event of the season, no, it was something purely chemical—magical, even. He couldn’t explain the draw to her—perhaps it was how her laugh that filled the room, or how her smile made him feel as if he were flying—regardless, he felt the attraction all the same and needed to do something about it. 

A dance, that was all it took. Unbeknownst to him at the time, but she was just as easily bewitched by Mr. Bridgerton, something about the way he looked at her—about how his presence made her feel—she knew it was something worth exploring, worth humoring.

The exploration led a courtship spanning over a few months, both parties involved equally relishing in its success. Not only had Benedict Bridgerton found a person to whom he could share everything with but how freeing it felt to open oneself to another without the fear of rejection or humiliation. She became his greatest supporter, instantly falling in love with his artistic endeavors and passions. Never once did she complain about sitting for a drawing, no matter how long she had to stay still and listen to his gentle suggestions and poses.

He had fallen in love. He knew this for a fact and within the short months of their courtship, Benedict knew that she was exactly who he needed to have beside him for the rest of his life. He was on the precipice of proposing, knowing in his heart of hearts that she was likely to say yes. 

So he charmed her into a promenade, a sweet walk in her family’s garden just as the sun begun to set, the scent of roses and wildflowers enveloped their senses. 

“It’s a beautiful night,” (Y/N) smiled lightly, her face rather tight. 

Benedict nodded quietly, reaching out for her hand. She took it without any hesitation. They both continued to walk, to enjoy the silence of the dusk and the rhythms of the night coming in like the tide.

“My dearest,” Benedict broke their silence, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“And I you,” (Y/N) said, gripping his hand even tighter. 

“Is that so?” Benedict teased. “I suppose it is quite convenient that we are alone in the gardens, isn’t it?”

“It is…” she trailed off, her eyes wandering to the rather impressive statue her mother had commissioned for the garden not too long ago. Cupid, how terribly poetic. 

Benedict felt her hand loosen on his, his brows furrowing slightly. “Is everything alright?”

She simply shook her head and sat down, conveniently on a nearby stone bench. 

“Please,” Benedict kneeled before her, his hands atop her own, resting on her lap. “What ever could be troubling you?”

“My father,” (Y/N) said, her voice wavering, “do you remember him sharing about his mining endeavors?” 

Benedict nodded once, firmly.

“His partners have come across a new place to mine,” she sighed, eyes pointed at their joined hands, “it is said to be rather prosperous, a worthy investment.”

“That,” he said, “that’s wonderful, my love. Your father must be elated at the prospects.” Her demeanor didn’t change, there was more to the story—hesitance practically swallowing her whole. “Why... why would that bring you down so terribly?”

She took a deep breath—to compose herself, in fear of letting tears overwhelm her. 

“The mine is in the Americas.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Benedict’s hands nearly fell from her lap, knowing full well what his love was implying with the news. “So… that means…?”

“We are to move by the end of the week,” (Y/N) sniffled, pressing a gloved hand to her nose. “Father is already there and awaiting our arrival. Mama, my brothers and I are to meet him as soon as we dock.”

“You’re—(Y/N), you cannot leave,” Benedict rose quickly from the ground, “your life is in London, your life is here.”

“Benedict…”

“Your father simply cannot make you go,” he started to pace, “you are supposed to stay here, stay with me.”

(Y/N) deflated in her seat, posture becoming what easily her governess would have scolded her for. “My love, it is not as if I want to leave London—to leave you.”

“Then don’t,” Benedict said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He clawed at his jacket pocket, hand diving into the inner lining. “I had planned on doing this tonight regardless,” he sunk back down onto his knee—one this time—his fingers prying open the rather small box, “but it seems time is of the essence and… well?”

“Benedict,” she was speechless, her heart had leapt to her throat, tears already spilling down her face.

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I wish to spend the rest of my life with you, if you would let me,” Benedict—now feeling the tears well in his eyes—gasped for air, “we can stay in London—together—and build a life with one another.”

“I-I can’t—”

“We can elope,” he said quickly, rising back to his feet, pulling her up with him, “take a trip to Scotland and be back by the end of the week—wedded and happy.”

(Y/N) shook her head wildly. “No, Benedict, you misunderstand,” her eyes met his, “I can’t marry you—elopement or not—I simply have to go, my family…”

“You cannot marry me or you do not wish to marry me?” Benedict asked, his voice nearly broken.

“There is nothing more that I would do,” she said, raising a hand to meet his cheek, “than to marry you, Benedict Bridgerton. I love you, truly and wholly, I do, but my brothers need me—need their elder sister. My mother…” she sighed, hand sliding down to his chest. “She would be crushed, I do not think she’d fair well with my absence all the way across the sea—”

“Then I shall come with you,” his hand met hers once again, “I will follow you to the Americas, we can start our new life there.”

“No.”

“I…” he was taken aback, “no? You do not wish—”

“As I cannot be parted from my family, you certainly cannot be parted from yours,” (Y/N) said slowly, insuring her words were taken only in the most sincere of regards. “You also cannot just abandon the academy, Benedict. You spent so much time getting accepted—to build and learn your craft, you can’t just give up and run away with me.”

“But I would,” he said, his voice firm, “I would give up everything—everything—to be with you.”

“And that is simply something I cannot ask of you,” she shook her head, “as placated and happy as we would be, the guilt—heavens the guilt—would consume me, Benedict,” a tear rolled down her cheek. “Holding you back from greatness, it would be too much for me to bear.”

“That is not your call to make, my love,” he tried to reason, “if I am to live a life with you, I would never regret it, not even for a moment. You could never hold me back.”

Gently, oh-so-gently, she rose to her toes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. It was sweet and light, the calm before the storm. 

A goodbye.

“I’m leaving, Benedict,” (Y/N) said, a finality to her tone, a sternness to her words, “and I will miss you with everything I am and everything that I will be.”

Her hand left his chest, sliding completely off his form. She tried not to look him in the eye, knowing if she were to do that, she would fall apart at the seams. 

He knew that she was right, of course, she usually was. He simply couldn’t leave his family, uproot his life and move to an unstable and unknown way of living across the ocean, worlds apart from the people he cared about most. Benedict couldn’t make her stay, he knew that much.

But she couldn’t stop him from waiting.

—

The salty sea air made her sick. After far too long on yet another boat—even though she swore to herself to never travel such a distance again—she had arrived back to England. It had been well over a year since she had traveled in the rather untrusting transportation across the water, so to finally step foot on dry land—on her homeland—was reassuring. 

Something was nagging in her heart, a hope, perhaps. She had tried to keep in correspondence with Benedict, hoping to still have a piece of him all the way across the sea, but he never sent her as much as a note back. In total, she sent fourteen letters, each more lovely than the last. It was no surprise that he refused to respond—she had broken his heart, after all, but she persisted. 

Thankfully, a few dear friends of the ton had kept her up to date—as much as one can, of course—with everything and anything that had happened in town. Sometimes they would include the elusive Lady Whistledown in their letters, just to keep things fresh. Normally though, they would keep tabs on Benedict, whether (Y/N) had asked them to or not. 

So, thanks to her new knowledge and forced invitation by her dear friend she had been staying with, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was standing in the back of the room, awaiting the unveiling of Benedict’s latest works of art. He had become somewhat of a notable name in the ton—something she knew he could always achieve—and this was his first true gallery. Granted, it was held at Bridgerton House, so the gallery wasn’t known for being spacious, but it was impressive nonetheless. 

How she managed to arrive at Bridgerton House without any sort of announcement or acknowledgement is beyond her knowledge or comprehension, but it was a good chance to be the first to let Benedict know she had returned. He was mere steps away, tucked into a small room off to the side, eyes fixed on a singular landscape, everyone seemingly enjoying the party elsewhere instead of congratulating the man of the evening.

He hadn’t changed since she had seen him last—save for the sideburns, he had grown them slightly, she noticed—but it had only been a little over a year, a drastic physical change was a bit foolish to be prepared for. But, it comforted her to know that Benedict Bridgerton was the same man she left all that time ago. 

She could only hope his heart held the same impression. 

A quick deep breath and a shaky sigh, she stepped forward. “Benedict.”

His face dropped, his mouth slightly agape, his piercing eyes meeting hers for the first time in a long time—a sight he truly never anticipated to see again. “(Y/N).”

(Y/N) wanted to run right into his arms, feel his embrace as she welcomed him again, but something seemed off. 

“I-It’s good to see you,” (Y/N) managed to squeak out, pressed firmly to her spot on the floor. 

“How…?”

“Father has found great success in the mines,” (Y/N) started, inching closer to him, “so I managed to convince my parents to allow me to return to London unaccompanied.”

Benedict’s eyes flicked to her hands—wrung with anxiety—searching for something intently. 

“And your husband has allowed this…?"

(Y/N) allowed a small smile to curl her lips. “I am not yet wed,” she moved her left hand—so that is what he was searching for. “I came here on my own volition.”

“Your parents would have never allowed you to come alone,” Benedict shook his head, “you’re an unwed lady—”

“Perhaps I snuck off, then,” (Y/N) said, waving her hand, “regardless of how I came to be here this evening, I’m here, Benedict.” She had managed to step nearly to his side, looking directly up into his stare. “I came back.”

“You did,” he let out a shallow breath, “you came back…”

“Are you in disbelief?”

“I am,” Benedict laughed humorlessly, “I nearly mourned your departure on every passing day since you left, only for you to be standing in front of me,” his hand reached out to graze her cheek—to prove she was real and she was there.

“I came back for you, Benedict,” tears were welling in her eyes, she had held them back for so long, “should you have me, of course.”

“I…” he sighed, posture deflating, “I wish it were that easy, (Y/N).”

“I am not sure I understand?”

“You left,” his tone was pointed, “a-and you wanted nothing to do with me—”

“Nothing to do with you?” (Y/N) raised her voice. “Are you mad? I wanted nothing more than to stay and be with you, Benedict. It just…” she ground her teeth, “wasn’t in the cards.”

“And yet you cannot just show up—announced I might add—and expect me to just willfully forget all of the anguish I had suffered in your absence,” Benedict’s voice was firm, he was serious.

“It is foolish of me,” (Y/N) nodded, “I will admit my faults in that regard, but if I could have stayed—”

“I proposed to you, (Y/N),” Benedict said sharply, “I lowered myself to one knee and bore my heart out to you that night.” She stood silently, unsure of how to respond. “My God, I even begged you to elope with me,” he laughed, “if you truly wanted to stay and be wed, you had every opportunity to do such a thing.”

“That is unfair and you know it,” she sneered, “I couldn’t just leave my family—to go and elope with an artist.”

Immediately did she want to take her words back, shove them down to the depths of regret and anguish—but it was far too late for that. The damage had been done, Benedict’s face taking the toll, the brunt of the turmoil.

“Yes,” he said cooly, face unchanging, “I am an artist, a successful one, too.” Benedict dug one hand into his pocket, the other flying wildly to his side—gesturing to the landscape beside them. “Unless, you couldn’t tell.”

“Benedict, you know I didn’t mean that—”

“You were gone, for a year, thousands of miles away from me—from London,” Benedict sneered, his tone downright hurtful. “You had all of the space in the world to figure out what you wanted and yet you come to my home to insult my craft? The very craft you did nothing but support?”

“You’re right!” She had enough, reaching her breaking point. “I did have all the space in the world—the universe! Because of that space, Benedict,” she flailed a finger in his face, “I realized what I wanted and I was hellbent on working for it!”

“And whatever,” he said cooly, pushing her finger out of his face, “could that be?”

“You, Benedict. You are what I want.”

Benedict blinked once. Twice. He stayed silent, watching carefully as her chest heaved with every deep breath she took, she was serious. He turned on his heels, facing the lavish landscape he had been admiring earlier. 

“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, you know,” Benedict nodded to the painting, “for this and practically the entire gallery.”

She looked at the canvas carefully—it was a beautiful rendition of a garden, the sunset practically glowing against the blues and deep hues of the foliage. It had looked just as if it were a normal garden of the ton, but something was nagging at her, a familiar feeling. It wasn’t until her eyes locked into the statue in the far right side—Cupid—that she realized what exactly this piece was. Where exactly this piece was.

“This is… my garden.”

“The day you left.”

“It’s lovely,” she hummed, her heart somewhere between deflating or dropping, “the sunset… it looks just like it did.”

“It was hard for me to forget,” Benedict nodded, “the name of the piece, do you wish to hear it?”

“That depends,” (Y/N) looked to him, “will it hurt me further?”

“I called it ‘Love and Loss’,” he continued, “no matter how many times I recalled that evening, how many times I was angry or disappointed in how things left off, I still longed for you. Mourned your loss, wishing you to return.”

“A-and the love?” (Y/N) squeaked out.

“Well,” Benedict laughed lightly, “I hardly think it is impossible to imagine that I loved you—that I still love you.”

“You still love me?” Her voice was hopeful, suddenly feeling as if she were walking on air. 

Benedict enveloped her hands with his own. “Of course I do, I never stopped.”

“But you said that you mourned—”

“And I did,” he said curtly, “but even when one mourns, it does not mean that the love was entirely lost, my dear.” Benedict ran his thumb carefully over the back of her hand, tracing small circles as he went. “But you made your way back to London, back to me, even if you had done so without your parents knowledge or consent,” he pointed his brow, a trademark smirk enveloped his lips. 

“I did,” she smiled, “how foolish of me it was to believe that I could continue my life without Benedict Bridgerton in it.”

“We are all known to be foolish at times,” Benedict nodded. She slapped him playfully.

“This is the part where you disagree and profusely tell me that I am not a fool!”

“But that would be a lie,” he mused, “because it was quite foolish to leave a man such as myself behind, I do believe I am quite the catch, would you not agree?”

“You are quite full of yourself Benedict Bridgerton,” (Y/N) smirked.

“But you love me for it,” his smile softened, “do you not?”

“I do,” she hummed, feeling herself grow closer into his touch. “I love you for everything that you are, everything that you will be.”

“So… it is suffice to say that you love me?”

“I…” a rolling laughter escaped her lips. “Is that not what I just said?”

Benedict leaned down, closer to her, inching his way into her personal space. “But my dear, after a year of a deafening silence and lack of your presence, I do think I deserve to hear it once more.”

“I love you,” (Y/N) said, pressing her forehead against his own. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

In an instant, Benedict closed the gap between the two, pressing his lips against her own. It felt like the entire weight of the world was sealed in this kiss, and in a way, it was. After a year apart—separated by an ocean and familial duties—the two souls found their way back to one another, destined to reconnect, to love again. 

“I want to take you up on your offer,” (Y/N) said, hesitantly pulling away from Benedict’s embrace.

“My offer?”

“To marry,” she smiled lightly, “I do think my parents would find solace in knowing that while their daughter did flee the country and new home without their knowledge, she had a husband to take care of her in their absence.”

“A husband, you say?” Benedict grinned. 

“Yes, I do suppose you know where I could find one?”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t find you a husband here in such short notice,” Benedict hummed, tapping his foot lightly. “Not here, anyway.”

Her eyes landed on his expectantly, a glimmer of hope residing.

“But I suppose if we were to travel to Scotland, we could solve this issue rather quickly,” he nearly rubbed his chin in thought—a rather jesting gesture. “Do you not agree?”

“I do,” her left hand gripped his, holding it firmly, “I agree wholeheartedly.”

[soontofustew]

about now

summary: your touring husband is finally home. 

pairing: park jaehyung x reader

word count: 2.5k ish

a/n:  hey hey @nara1509​!! this is written for you for the myday christmas fic exchange ~ (organised by the lovely @7abshy​) you didn't really specify anything except husband jae so i took the creative liberties!! truthfully, this was really difficult to write (figuring out marriage dynamics and thinking about life after marriage) but i tried my best!! my writing here is lowkey weird too?? feels kinda different from my normal style but sorry for the long wait >< anyway i really hope you enjoy this and have a great 2020!! 

-

“ y/n, aren’t you heading home yet?” 

the sound of your typing slows to a halt as you finally look up from your computer screen after staring at it the whole day, blinking furiously in an attempt to drive the tiredness away.  sohye’s head pops out from behind the door of your office, concern briefly flickering across her face as she takes in the mess of your usually organised surroundings. papers were scattered across your table, you knew there were at least three different files lying open on the couch and a multitude of post it notes were pasted across the department whiteboard that you had (with much effort) managed to roll into the room. 

you attempt a reassuring smile at your closest friend and colleague in the department, although at this point you’re sure it looks more like a grimace. 

“well, i’m hoping to be done with this by 7?” you catch the clock ticking to 6.45 out of the corner of your eye and inwardly sigh, “scratch that. maybe 8?” 

sohye frowns for a moment, before stepping into your office. “i could come in early tomorrow to finish up the rest of the pitch and presentation? especially since you’re supposed to be on leave. minjung said she would be in early as well!” 

“i’ll finish up what i can and email the rest to the department to finish. don’t worry so much and go home, shoo shoo.” you wave a hand at her and she nods somewhat reluctantly, turning around to leave. 

“you better make sure you leave at 8.” she calls out as she turns to exit your office, not before fixing you with a stern glare that you know from past experience meant that she wasn’t playing around.

“yes mom.” you drone, waving your hands quickly at her in a shooing motion. “please leave safely.” 

“i swear i’ll swap all the pen caps on your coloured pens-”, you tune out the rest of her exasperated shouts as she heads to the elevators, staring at your computer screen for a second before running a hand down your face in frustration. 

today was not your day. 

when you had woken up, you were more than prepared to have a week of well-deserved rest and relaxation. what you discovered was an urgent email from your boss telling you that you had to come into work for an emergency (leave or no leave), you had managed to fall and bruise your arm before even leaving the house and spilled coffee on your favourite blouse. upon reaching work, you realised an incredibly dumb tech intern had managed to wipe out all the files pertaining to the upcoming pitch your company had prepared for a major client (hence the emergency) and that your department had to redo it all by the weekend. 

“and of course, all this just has to happen the one time i decide to clear the leave i have backlogged. and when he’s finally back home.” you grumble to yourself as you grudgingly continue typing. a chime sounds and you reach over to grab your phone, unlocking it to see messages from said person you were talking about.

6.54pm

[goat husbando]: hey hey i landed already. how u doing? .o. 

[goat husbando]: also its raining did you pack an umbrella?

[you]: i’m ok 

[you]: i think so? 

[you]: should have a spare one in my office anyway 

[goat husbando]: ok see u soon :”)

a smile creeps onto your face, as it sinks in that your husband is finally back in the country after what seemed like an eternity (admittedly only six months) on tour in europe and america. taking a moment to stretch your sore muscles from sitting all day, you think back to how you even met him and wonder how you managed to survive it all. 

- 24th july, 9.32pm. -

you take a sip of your chai latte, taking in the skyline of seoul before you. "being up here really puts my worries into perspective." you mutter to yourself. 

all of a sudden, a body crashes into you and you yelp in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing onto the railing to support your weight. your chai latte, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky and you stare mournfully as it falls from your grip. 

"oh my god, i am so so sorry! are you okay? ok i guess you're not, i just made you lose your drink. damn it younghyun, look at what you did-" 

turning to look at the situation after making sure your limbs were all intact, you meet a tall boy, his blonde hair tousled by the wind, wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose. he was clad in an oversized flannel, a simple black shirt and blue denim jeans completing the outfit. 

"um-" you make an effort to get this attention, seeing him arguing with another boy, his hair dyed with purple hues. 

he spins around, hands flailing in desperation, eyes large from worry. "i am so sorry! aH what can i do to make it up to you??" 

you can't help it. at the sight of him panicking immensely over your spilt latte, you burst into laughter, hands wrapping around your middle. "you.. you look like... like an octopus." you manage to get out in between breaths. 

the boy ceased all movement abruptly, moving to lean against the railing next to you. "i guess i kind of do huh?" he chuckles to himself.  extending a hand towards you, he smiles - a grin so bright and disarming that it takes your breath away for a split second. 

"park jaehyung. how about i buy another drink for you?" 

you guessed that the rest, like people said was history. 

but the past six months truly felt like the longest six months of your life. it was his first tour after the both of you got married and you convinced yourself that things would be fine. life without jaehyung seemed to function normally at first, you still woke up in the mornings and went to work, just that the bed seemed a little larger now, blankets a little colder when you wrapped yourself in them. skype sessions were irregular given the time differences, but you both tried your best and you would be lying if you said you weren’t happy that you had a folder of pictures dedicated to one park jaehyung falling asleep in the midst of conversation. by the third month of the tour, you were in “peak withdrawal mode” as sohye had termed, with every small thing reminding you of the tall idiot who occupied your heart.

grocery shopping and having to stretch for items that he would normally reach easily for. subconsciously cooking for two instead of one. turning around excitedly to show him a meme and realising he wasn't around. missing his warmth as the weather turned colder and you dug out old sweaters to compensate. 

the fourth month was when you started wearing his shirts to bed. somehow they still smelled like him, a comforting mix of sandalwood and grapefruit. the video calls lessened as the weeks went by, what with how tired he was from the consecutive shows. still, you pushed on - burying yourself in work and department meetings, refusing to allow yourself time to dwell on the missing presence of park jaehyung. 

and then you re-watched the proposal video. 

it was a random evening on the weekend and you decided to clear out some random bits and bobs you collected in your drawers over the years, when you saw the disc. once the video started, you immediately knew what it was. the video was shaky and badly lit, but watching it, you could see every moment that happened in your mind as clear as day. 

- 23rd july 2018, 11.54pm -

“isn’t the view nice?” the camera lens veers into your face as you lean against a metal railing, making you flinch and jump back slightly. 

"not so close, alex!" you laugh and push the camera backwards, turning back to the open view in front of you. you take a deep breath of the cool night air and stretch your arms out, feeling the wind rush between your fingertips. 

"hey hey of course i'm excited! i haven't visited you in ages and to get to tour seoul with you? have some sympathy for your best friend ok." the voice behind the camera rises in pitch and the screen fumbles for a second before readjusting and a blonde appears next to you, holding up a peace sign. 

the video ends up focusing on you again, back to leaning against the railing, eyes drinking in the night scenery - watching the city lights of seoul twinkle beneath you. 

"you really like this place huh?" alex asks again. 

you nod, smiling into the distance. "i met jaehyung here. about seven years ago? and we came here a lot for dates, it's quiet and hardly anyone can be bothered to walk up here since it's only footpaths up to this peak. we just sat around, ate take-out and talked together. i remember he asked me out here too. he brought his acoustic guitar and sang 'best part' before asking me to be his girlfriend."  

you turn around to look at her, eyes narrowing slightly before you spot jaehyung behind her, carrying his well-worn acoustic guitar. 

he slowly walks towards you, a grin on his face as he strums the guitar. 

"if you love me, i can love you till the end. so stay with me don't go anywhere. you will be without a doubt, my last love story. so please be my finale." 

he reaches you, taking off his guitar and leans down to give you a quick kiss on the forehead. kneeling in front of you, he grasps your hands and takes a breath.

"hey y/n. wow ok, i'm totally more nervous than i thought i was going to be. ok ok. we met here on this day-", he quickly looks down at his watch, "on this day seven years ago. meeting you has changed my life, as cliche as it sounds. during these seven years, you've supported me through all the good times and the bad, even when i might have been out of the country and not able to do the same for you. i once asked you to be my girlfriend here. but now, i want to ask another question. is that ok?" 

you can only nod in response, tears already gathering in the corners of your eyes. 

"y/n, would you do be the honour of being my wife?" 

"yes, yes! park jaehyung, i would love to be your wife." 

you paused the video then, curling into a ball on the couch. the apartment had never seemed emptier than at that moment, jaehyung’s missing larger than life presence causing an absence that left a gaping hole in your life. even the dish towels looked sadder, you laughed while blinking back tears as you made your nightly cup of tea. a few minutes later, you were seated by your bedside, staring at the cup of hot honey lemon you had somehow subconsciously made. it was jaehyung’s favourite drink before bed and as the scent of honey flooded your nose, you broke down. that night, you cried yourself to sleep listening to his albums, missing the feeling of his arms around you. 

a loud knock on the door breaks you out of your reminiscing and you look up, mouth dropping open in surprise. 

"someone requested for a delivery of one tall handsome man?" 

park jaehyung leans languidly against the door of your office, a cheeky smirk on his face. his hair messily ruffled from the plane ride, one hand in his jacket pocket and the other holding a multitude of plastic bags. 

"what-" you begin, when he shuffles over immediately, index finger out and shushing you. 

when did he get here from the airport? how?  

you were stunned, mind torn between wanting to run over to hug him and struck by how well he knew you.

"i figured i would pick my lovely wife up from work today. and i bought some takeout along the way too - it's your favourite - sushi and some strawberry shortcake from that small bakery you like. i got the car parked downstairs and i know you're definitely tired." 

he places the food down on the office table, leaning down to peck your forehead as he somehow manages to simultaneously save the work on your laptop and shut it down. "so, how about say we head home hm?" 

he cocks his head at you, and as you stare into his eyes, you know there's only one correct answer. you can never refuse park jaehyung. so you shut your eyes briefly, savouring the weight of his hand as he strokes your hair before getting up to pack your belongings. 

"ah, i forgot. younghyun invited us to dinner tomorrow. wanna go?" he asks without looking at you, hands tapping away on his phone. 

and you suddenly realise that he's always asking the questions. always making sure you're comfortable. always being there to catch you before you fall. you set your half-packed bag down on the table and reach out, tugging the edge of his coat. 

"hey." you lick your lips, watch as his eyes trace the edges of your face. "park jaehyung, can i kiss you?" 

his eyes imperceptibly widen, hand reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he grins teasingly. "how can i say no when you're asking me like that y/n?", he whispers, voice catching slightly on your name.

so, you reach a hand out, cupping his face and pull him down towards you as you tiptoe to reach him. the warmth of his lips on yours grounds you, releasing a tension you didn't even know you had and you snake your other hand around his waist, drawing him closer. his hands settle around your lower back, tongue slipping into your mouth as you him kiss deeper. 

when you finally break away, face slightly flushed and lips redder than before, you catch a glimpse of jaehyung's smirk and refuse to look him in the eye. "you really missed me, didn't you?" he traces a finger down the side of your cheekbones. 

your response is to bury your face into his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of sandalwood. "i did. i really did miss you." 

"mm. i would love to stand here and hug you all day but the food's gonna get cold babe. besides, you got me to yourself all night." he slowly untangles himself from your embrace, and you proceed to gather up your things. fingers firmly intertwined with his as you leave the office, your heart skips a beat as you look up at jaehyung. 

your husband is finally home. 

[jjaywmac]

Steve Orlandella loved to write. By July, 2016, he was on a roll – brimming with ideas for his blog “Stevespeak”, his next novel CASINO KILLER, A Vic Landell Mystery, and witty, satiric, sarcastic Facebook posts.  He had fun writing, then reading and re-reading what he had to say.  Haha.  I think he had more fun than anyone, formulating his next “posting”. 

In September 2011, Steve and I were living in Westwood.  I was practicing law as an entertainment/employment attorney.  He was working as a videographer for attorneys, video-taping depositions and “A Day in the Life” segments.  That fall, I was invited to be on an e-publishing, self-help panel for members of the Writers Guild of America (WGA). The panel sought to empower writers to create new opportunities for work in film, television, new media and transmedia. Since WGA did not cover book publication regardless of format, it was thought that e-publishing could be a stepping stone towards potential work on Guild-covered adaptations.  On September 20, 2011, I joined WGA members Lee Goldberg (True Fiction), Derek Haas (The Way I Die), and Alexandra Sokoloff (author, Book of Shadows), and Mark Coker (Smashwords). Our task was to discuss the latest ebook/self and indie-publishing developments. It was a power-packed evening with information, questions, and answers.

When I came home that night, our lives were changed forever.  I said to Steve, “You need to write a book”. To which he answered, “I have nothing to say.” I laughed.  Steve ALWAYS had something to say.  After that, we both began writing and publishing our works.  At the time of Steve’ death in 2016, he had published eight books as paperbacks and E-books. He was writing his ninth CASINO KILLER, A Vic Landell Mystery, at the time of his untimely death in August 2016.  I have written seven books.  More about that on another day.  For now, I want to tell you about Steve, what I am doing for him that is important to me.

Steve took an idea and ran with it.  His first book was STEVESPEAK: Three Years on Facebook.  This was the book he said he “did not know how to do”.  Wrong.  This is a man who won an Emmy for his hour-long documentary on Jackie Robinson that he did for the Dodgers. And excellent, award-winning piece.  He knew what he was doing.  STEVESPEAK is a witty, personal look at Steve’s life and times.  Original postings and writings that he had shared, or not shared, on Facebook.  A fun read throughout.  That book gave him the confidence he needed to delve into his obsession – the Titanic.  That disastrous night to remember.  

Once STEVESPEAK was on the boards, Steve began pouring his life and soul into TITANIC, Those in Peril on the Sea. That book became his masterpiece. He spent a lifetime studying the Titanic, reading books, watching movies, collecting art works.  TITANIC records the results of his research.  As an E-book, his thoughts and pictures about what happened that night will exist forever.  As a paperback, it is a keeper – a book you want on your bookshelf.  His slant on the passengers, the people, and the companies involved captures your attention.  The reader boards the liner with the people, excited and looking forward to the historical voyage.  He breathes life into an event that impacted its world at the time.    

After TITANIC, Steve needed a break. It was an exhausting project for him. So, for relaxation, (haha), he spent time writing about a sport that captured his love at an early age – baseball.  He wrote THE GAME, A Baseball Companion.  Steve loved baseball. He spent most of his life in sports television, producing and directing baseball games and programs about baseball.  He wanted the reader to understand and love baseball and ball parks like he did.  It was (and is) America’s game.  Steve loved America.  Steve loved apple pie and hot dogs.  Steve loved baseball.  In THE GAME, Steve introduces baseball savvy to the reader.  As an E-book, his point of view will last forever.  As a paperback, one for the bookshelf. 

It was at this point that Steve decided to try his hand at a novel.  He wanted to write a series of mysteries, using a lead detective or investigator who had been a baseball player in his youth. Someone left-handed. He was left-handed, so he knew a lot about left-handed baseball players.  Possibly a private investigator who solved murders occurring in a ball park somewhere in the USA.  And, there must be a “babe” girlfriend – someone tall and red-headed. In other words, his dream girl. (Haha.) He always said he wanted a Southern Blonde, but I think he would have loved a tall, red-headed Southern babe. Oh, well, I got him. So, I didn’t mind if he spent hours in his head with his dream girl “Marcia”, from Texas.

That was the beginning of five mysteries involving characters and places where he could spend interesting hours, writing and creating fun dialogue.  Thus, Vic Landell  and “the redhead” appeared on the scene. He spent hours with them, selecting locales he loved – Sarasota, Florida; Washington D.C.; Boston, Massachusetts; Los Angeles, California; and New York City. in locales he loved – Sarasota, Florida, Washington, D.C., Boston, Los Angeles, New York. The first one, BURDEN OF PROOF. Second, CAPITOL MURDER.  Third, MARATHON MURDERS. Fourth, DANCE WITH DEATH.  Fifth and last, MIDTOWN MAYHEM.  

He was 46 pages into his next one, titled CASINO KILLER, when he died unexpectedly.  It was set in Nice, France, and “dedicated to John and Gloria Cataldo, once and forever”.  He was writing every day on the patio in Sardinia, after he came in from the pool during our delicious vacation we took just before he got sick.  For those who don’t know, he got double pneumonia (???) and died of heart failure during a month-long stay in the hospital. CASINO KILLER was a challenge for him because it involved French criminal law. He was researching the police setup and French gun laws as he was developing locale.  This is his opening paragraph:

“What’s in a Name?

It is the coastline of the Mediterranean Sea in the southeast corner of France, beneath of the base of the French Alps.  There is no official boundary, but it is usually considered to extend from the Italian border in the east to Saint-Tropez, Hyères, Toulon, or Cassis in the west.  The area is a Department of the French Government – Alpes-Maritimes.  There is nothing quite like it anywhere else in the world.  As the French might refer to it – beau ravage – beautiful shoreline.

It began as a winter health resort for the British upper class at the end of the 18th century.  With the arrival of the railway in the mid-19th century, it became the playground and vacation spot of British, Russian, and other aristocrats, including Queen Victoria.  It was the English who coined the phrase, the French Riviera.

After World War II, the south of France became a popular tourist destination and convention site.  The area went off the charts in the 1950s when a beautiful girl from Philadelphia moved into the Royal palace of the one and only principality.  Millionaires and celebrities built homes there and routinely spent their summers.

The region has one more name.  In 1887, a French author named Stéphen Liégeard published a book about the coastline.  So taken was he by the color of the Mediterranean, he used the words Azure Coast in the title – in French that translates as Côte d’Azur.”

I have thought a lot about legacy since Steve’s death.  E-books last forever.  Friends and family pass with time. Memories fade.  E-books last. So, I am spending time and dollars to get Steve’s E-books, his legacy, out there in a format that works. I have been editing and getting professional help with covers and formatting to attract an international audience of readers.  So, far, I have finished and published on Smashwords and Amazon’s Kindle BURDEN OF PROOF, CAPITOL MURDER, and MARATHON MURDERS.  I am currently working on DANCE WITH DEATH.  I plan to do all of his books before I begin tackling mine.  That way, our works will remain long after our deaths. 

My favorite is MARATHON MURDERS.  Why? It is about Boston.  It was his home in his heart.  He knew its streets, its restaurants, its stores, its history.  He loved Boston, the Red Sox, and Fenway Park, passionately and not necessarily in that order.  That love pervades his words throughout.  When I was working on it, I felt his presence, his being there, in the room with me, sharing love and teaching me about his home and his people.  The edited version with the new cover and formatting has just been published on Smashwords and Kindle.  I will get to the hard copies in the future. 

  “A Project Worth Doing” Steve Orlandella loved to write. By July, 2016, he was on a roll – brimming with ideas for his blog "Stevespeak", his next novel…

[robwilsonimages]

Grounded Theory and Photography

Robert Wilson

Blog Post 3

4th November 2019

For my MA Photography project, I am considering the use of Grounded Theory as a research methodology that I can apply to my photographic data collection and analysis. Before I can implement this research paradigm, it is important to consider its suitability for use in a photographic project. This article will examine how a photography project can generate a theory which demonstrates the potential of Grounded Theory for the medium.

Robert Frank’s The Americans: the creation of a theory of place in photography

Grounded Theory is a qualitative research methodology that was first revealed to academia by Barney Glaser and Anselm Strauss in their ground-breaking work The Discovery of Grounded Theory (1967). Strauss’s successor and collaborator Juliet Corbin summarises Grounded Theory as

‘… a form of research the purpose of which is to construct theory from data. The methodology is carried out through a set of data gathering and analytic procedures. Procedures should be used flexibly and reflect the analytic task at hand. Researchers can’t pick and choose among the procedures deciding to use some and discard others. It is the flexible use of procedures that lead to the development of rich and dense theory that fits the data and that offers insight and solutions to the issues and problems of participants.’ (Corbin, 2017)

Whilst Grounded Theory was originally used in nursing studies, it has now become widely applied across academic disciplines. This article will explore the appropriateness of Grounded Theory as a framework for photographic research. It will not provide cases of photographers using Grounded Theory as there is no explicit evidence in the literature that photographers have consciously applied the paradigm but will illustrate its suitability for photography by showing how artists can built theories within their work. To do this, we will examine the clearest and most well-known example of a photographer creating a theory – Robert Frank’s The Americans (2008).

The Americans and its Theory of America

Frank’s The Americans (2008), first published in 1958, was not initially popular, and the majority of reviews were critical. Yet, it has come to be regarded as a seminal work of documentary photography. Uniquely at the time, the work was not solely about aesthetics or creating a single narrative but constructed a theory of America. The book is not an ode to American, but is,

‘…ambiguous, destabilized, ‘moving’ photography that engages the viewer in a dialogical process rather than transmitting a ready-made story with its pre-packaged values and assumptions.’ (Campbell, 2003, p. 214)

The book turns a critical eye on America and that America is, most particularly, one of flags, of automobiles, jukeboxes, and religion, and of racism. It must be noted that Frank’s theory of America does extend beyond the three features above, but for the necessity of brevity, this article will focus on these alone. For greater exploration, the reader is encouraged to engage with The Americans itself as well as Robert Frank's 'The Americans': The Art of Documentary Photography (Day, 2011).

Flags

Robert Frank - Parade – Hoboken, New Jersey (1955/56)

The Stars and Stripes is central to the arrangement of the book (Day, 2011, pp. 71-76). They are the placeholders that begin each new ‘chapter’ (p. 71). In each of the images that feature the flag, the people present are subordinate to it. For example, in the opening image of the book Parade – Hoboken, New Jersey, Day notes that the women in the image are

‘… marginalized, cramped into the corners of the composition. They appear no more important in the image’s visual hierarchy than the wall which divides them. These women are fitted into this block not because it suits them or is a desirable residence, but because there is nowhere else they can go.’ (p. 72)

As we proceed through the book, the flags continue to appear. For example, in Fourth of July – Jay, New York, a tattered flag overshadows a party, yet the participants are seemingly unaware of its presence. In the last image to feature a flag, the amusing Political rally – Chicago (the second image in the book to carry the name), the bandsman is subsumed by his sousaphone: the instrument dominates and his identity is hidden (pp. 75-76). In Frank’s America, flags are a constant theme, and even if the responses of those featured in the images are not consistent (p. 76), the people themselves are always of secondary importance.

 Automobiles, Jukeboxes and Religion

Frank’s America has three religions: Christianity, jukeboxes and cars. Christianity, represented by crosses both real and implied, features throughout the book. Juxtaposed against this are both the automobiles, which are not new, but are ‘older models, junked cars, or accidents on the side of the road’ (Mortenson, 2014, p. 425), and the jukeboxes which serves as altars for people of every background. The country worships before all three.

Robert Frank – Political Rally – Chicago (1955/56)

Political Rally – Chicago (the first image to carry the name) is the first of the implied crosses to feature. The figure, with arms spread wide and high, appears almost crucified on the cross formed by the window above. His expression is either triumphant or a grimace of pain. Halfway down his chest is a black patch. This maybe shadow but appears more like a stain. Was this the entry point for his Spear of Destiny?

This image and Jehovah’s Witness- Los Angeles feature implied crosses, but the work also features multiple ‘real’ crosses. Christianity is the overriding faith in the book, but Frank shows that it is not the only faith. 

Robert Frank – Covered Car – Long Beach, California (1955/56)

In Covered Car – Long Beach, California, the anonymous car has become the altar in the church of the automobile. As Day (2011, p. 62) points out,

‘The photograph depicts a car covered in a cloth. The cloth appears to be silk, perhaps a parachute or something similar. The richly adorned car stands between two palm trees, which create the impression of a portico. The car thus becomes an altar, complete with altar cloth.’

For the rest of the work, the automobile is a frequent feature. It is a constant facet of everyday life in The Americans. Its variety of appearance include as a simple mode of transport, at a funeral, as an intrusion, as a place to sit during a movie, and finally as a place of rest in the final image of the book. The presence of the car cannot be escaped and it is an inclusive faith. However, only one other image consecrates the automobile as overtly as Covered Car – Long Beach, California, and that is St. Francis, gas station, and city hall – Los Angeles.

Robert Frank – St. Francis, gas station, and city hall – Los Angeles

Here, the statue, which Frank names as St. Francis,

‘…preaches directly across a deserted highway, into the sun. … St Francis is famous for his sermon to the birds. … Here he preaches to an audience of automobiles.’ (p. 88)

The cars appear, flock like, crammed between the two buildings waiting on every word. By being blessed or preached to by St. Francis, the image inescapably marks the cars as part of America’s religion.

Robert Frank – Bar – New York City (1955/56)

In Bar – New York City, the jukebox glows ethereally as if beckoning converts with a mystic light. Day (p. 143) describes it as ‘a modern-day Gabriel trumpeting in song the arrival of a new age’ and notes that the figures present in the bar seem to take little notice of its radiance. This jukebox wants to convert more to its cause even if, as in this image, few are listening.

However, in images such as Candy Store – New York City, the jukebox, like the car in Covered Car – Long Beach, California, becomes an altar. This time surrounded by young people who informally worship at it. Like the car, the jukebox is inclusive in its conversion of followers. This is illustrated effectively by Café – Beaufort, South Carolina. Here, a small African American baby is sprawled face first on the edge of a large cushion. The child is dwarfed by an enormous jukebox which seems to watch over the child in a protective, almost angelic fashion. Despite the child’s potential exclusion, on account of its ethnicity, from much of what 1950s America has to offer, the jukebox is there for him or her regardless of background.

Belief and its paraphernalia, conventional or otherwise, is a consistent theme of Frank’s America. It is one of the key theories that underpin The Americans as a critical description of 1950s America.

Racism

Whilst racism is frequently alluded to in the book, one images confronts it directly. That picture is both the book’s cover and arguable its most well-known. It is Trolley – New Orleans.

Robert Frank - Trolley – New Orleans (1955/56)

The message of segregation is clear in this picture of a racially divided America. The white passengers are in the front and the black passengers the back. They are separated by a divide. However, the image offers us more than a simple reading. As Sturken and Cartwright (2009, pp. 19-20) note,

‘It is as if the trolley itself represents the passage of history… The trolley riders seem to be held for one frozen, pivotal moment within the vehicle, a group of strangers thrown together to journey down the same road that would become so crucial to American history…’

This analysis can be taken further still. In the centre of the picture, we see two children, innocent of expression; it is they who are necessarily the central focus of the image. It is the minds of children that are to become the battleground. If the children cannot be persuaded of the folly of racism and segregation, then America’s future is a bleak one.

Racism is also seen in a wider but less overt context than segregation in the South in the image San Francisco.

Robert Frank - San Francisco (1955/56)

In this image, Frank surprises and photographs a black couple relaxing above an apparently wealthy white-washed suburb. However, they are separated from it excluded from the gleaming buildings and affluence. Professor Maurice Berger, writing in the New York Times notes that,

‘Rather than a neutral observer, Mr. Frank looms over them, an active, unseen participant — a surrogate for the intimidating whiteness that shadowed the lives of black Americans, no matter how liberal their environment.’ (2015)

It is clear from these two images as well as others in the book that the racism of mid-1950s America is an integral feature of Frank’s theory. Whilst is never again confronted so overtly as in Trolley – New Orleans, it is a constant theme.

 The Connection to Grounded Theory

Grounded Theory did not exist as a research paradigm when Robert Frank was completing his work on The Americans. If it had existed, we can be confident that Frank would been neither aware nor interested in its potential as a photographic research tool as his great project was not an academic exercise. However, this does not obviate the realisation that he created a theory of America in his work. His theory is individual and subjective, but, nonetheless, it is a theory.

Since its creation Grounded Theory has consistently shown that it can be an effective method of generating theory in research.  Additionally, it is axiomatic that qualitative research methods in general are subjective in nature. Therefore, if we accept that a body of photographic work can generate theory, and Frank’s work suggests the truth of this, it seems entirely appropriate to accept that Grounded Theory can be used a method of theory generation for a photographic research project.

References

Berger, M. (2015). The New York Times. [Online] Available at: https://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/01/15/robert-frank-telling-it-like-it-was/ [Accessed 6 11 2019].

Campbell, N. (2003). 'The look of hope or the look of sadness': Robert Frank's dialogical vision. Comparative American Studies An International Journal, 1(2), pp. 204-221.

Corbin, J. (2017). Grounded Theory. The Journal of Positive Psychology, 12(3), pp. 301-302.

Day, J. (2011). Robert Frank's 'The Americans' The Art of Documentary Photography. Kindle ed. Bristol: Intellect.

Frank, R. (2008). The Americans. 11 ed. Gottingen: Steidl .

Glaser, B. & S., S. A. (1967). The Discovery of Grounded Theory. 1st ed. Chicago: Aldine.

Mortenson, E. (2014). The Ghost of Humanism: Rethinking the Subjective Turn in Postwar American Photography. History of Photography, 38(4), pp. 418-434.

Sturken, M. & Cartwright, L. (2009). Practices of Looking: An Introduction to Visual Culture. 2nd ed. New York: Oxford University Press.

[giftofshewbread]

ATTENTION PROPHECY UPDATE!  *Almost There*

 By Daymond Duck   Published on: July 12, 2020

While preparing a message for an upcoming event, I decided to look back at things I have written about world government.

I have written too much to mention in this article, but I want to recall some of it because it has relevance for today and the upcoming election.

These things will help readers understand what is going on, and why some believe we are almost there.

One, concerning world government, Daniel said, “The fourth beast (the Antichrist’s government; the coming New World Order) shall be the fourth kingdom upon earth, which shall be diverse from all kingdoms, and shall devour the whole earth, and shall tread it down, and break it in pieces” (Dan. 7:23).

Two, concerning world government, John said, “And it was given unto him (the Antichrist) to make war with the saints (those that become believers during the Tribulation Period), and to overcome them: and power was given him over all kindreds, and tongues, and nations” (Rev. 13:7).

So, the Antichrist will rule over all nations, and people should be aware that many globalists are working hard to turn the UN into a world government by 2030.

Three, Winston Churchill said, “The purpose of the New World Order is to bring the world into a world government.”

This famous politician (not a preacher) said, “New World Order” means world government, and it is important to understand that the Bible teaches that it will be headed by the Antichrist, and he will be a Satan worshipper (Rev. 13:4-6).

Four, in 1990, Pres. George H. W. Bush (Bush Senior) said, “Out of these troubled times (out of the Persian Gulf War), our fifth objective—a new world order—can emerge.”

Know that world government is an objective of the U.S., and the “Deep State” has been working to bring it in for years.

Five, know that the establishment of a world government is in the UN Charter.

Six, in 1997, Pres. Bill Clinton said, “What I am trying to do (to build a global system) is to promote a process of reorganization of the world.”

Seven, on May 14, 2008, Barack Obama was running for president of the U.S.; and Michelle said, “We are going to have to change our conversation; we’re going to have to change our traditions, our history; we’re going to have to move into a different place as a nation.”

On July 24, 2008, U.S. presidential candidate Obama supported a “globalized world,” and he said, “The burdens of global citizenship bind us together.”

On Oct. 30, 2008, candidate Obama said, “We are five days away from fundamentally transforming the United States of America.”

On Oct. 24, 2014, Mr. Obama had become president, and he issued a Proclamation urging all 50 governors in the U.S. and all officials under the U.S. flag to observe “UN Day” with “appropriate ceremonies and activities.”

He released a joint statement with the UN Sec. Gen. at that time, Ban Ki-moon, that said global government should be further empowered.

Eight, on Sept. 25, 2015, the UN was presented with a document called “Transforming our World: The 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development.”

Supporters called this document a “New Universal Agenda.”

This word “Universal” comes from the preamble of the document, and it means this document covers the entire earth and more.

Some experts said the document calls for a one-world government, a one-world religion, and a one-world economic system to be established by 2030.

Delegates from 193 nations unanimously approved it and applauded the decision.

Nine, two days later, on Sept. 27, 2015, Pres. Obama assured the UN of America’s commitment to the “Transforming our World: the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development” goals.

He called the UN document “one of the smartest investments we can make in our own future.”

The next day, he addressed the UN and said, “Global integration (the merging of nations) is an agenda that transcends the narrowly defined interests of nation-states.”

He was saying merging nations into groups such as the U.S., Canada, and Mexico (USMCA) is more important than their national sovereignty.

Be aware that the USMCA went into effect on July 1, 2020, and globalists believe it is more important than the sovereignty of the U.S.

I believe ten global trading blocs will form. Shortly after that, each one will elect a leader (the Ten Kings), and then the Antichrist will appear.

Ten, Pres. Obama’s vice president was Joe Biden, and he called for the establishment of the New World Order (world government) on several occasions.

On April 5, 2013, Mr. Biden spoke at the Export-Import Bank Conference in Washington, DC where he said, “The affirmative task we have now is to actually create a new world order.”

Mr. Biden was saying it is now America’s job to create a literal world government.

Suppose he gets elected, and he or whoever replaces him follows through with this.

Eleven, on May 28, 2014, Vice-Pres. Joe Biden told the U.S. Air Force Academy graduating class, “I believe we and mainly you have an incredible opportunity to lead in shaping a new world order for the 21st century.”

Mr. Biden said the 2014 Air Force Academy graduating class could help shape a world government (Biden supports the surrender of U.S. sovereignty to a world government; this explains why the globalists hate Trump. He opposes it.).

Twelve, on Jan. 21-24, 2015, a group called the World Economic Forum (WEF) met in Davos, Switzerland.

These globalists agreed to speed up the development of regions of nations all over the world.

Speeding up the development of regions of nations will speed up the surrender of their national sovereignty. (There is reason to believe it has been speeded up.)

Thirteen, here is some information about the UN Sustainable Development goals for 2030 that people need to pay attention to because Mr. Biden is running for president of the U.S., and he has spoken out in support of the UN goals. Mr. Biden is running for president of the U.S. Mr. Biden is running for president of the U.S.

For one thing, the document’s preamble says, “All countries and stakeholders, acting in a collaborative partnership, WILL (not may—WILL) implement this plan.”

By 2030, the UN WILL be transformed into a body that can require all nations to obey the UN. (The Constitution of the U.S. will be irrelevant, and global law will prevail.)

Unless God intervenes, in less than 10 years, the UN WILL become a satanic one-world government, and the U.S. will be required to obey the laws of the UN.

One government official said not a single human being will be allowed to escape this next great leap forward (this includes everyone in the U.S., but he is overlooking the Rapture).

One reporter said the world’s children will now be indoctrinated with the idea that we are all “global citizens” (people will be citizens of a borderless world, not citizens of the U.S., Mexico, Canada, etc.).

For another thing: in 2015, then UN Sec. Gen. Ban Ki-moon called the UN Sustainable Development goals the “start of a new era.” (A New Era has started, and America will not return to what was considered normal a year ago.)

Fourteen, on Jan. 1, 2016, it was reported that the UN Sustainable Development goals for 2030 had gone into effect and that everyone should expect all nations to make a strong push to bring them to pass.

Trump was elected president in Nov. 2016, and he called for making America great again (MAGA. This opposes the UN Sustainable Development Goals, and it has created a big problem for the globalists, Deep State, etc.).

Fifteen, on Mar. 10, 2016, it was reported that the UN had released a Master Plan called, “Post-2015 Sustainable Development Goals.”

According to the report, every government is now required to promote wealth redistribution; government control of all production, a reduction in the consumption of goods and services, the consumption of less meat and frozen or convenience foods, the use of fewer and smaller vehicles and appliances, the use of less air-conditioning at home and at work, and the use of smaller houses and apartments.

Governments must take control of all education systems to ensure that children are “agents of change” that support world government; governments must indoctrinate everyone to accept a new set of attitudes, values and beliefs to promote a new culture of peace and non-violence (the global Ethic or world religion); and governments will provide universal healthcare, mental health services, sexual and reproductive services to everyone on earth.

Understand that this is not what the UN wants to accomplish in the next 50-75 years; this is what the UN wants to accomplish before 2030, and you need to ask yourself if these are the things you want our next president to support.

As far as this writer is concerned, there is ample proof that America is the victim of an organized effort to weaken the U.S. and bring in the New World Order.

Mrs. Clinton was supposed to complete Pres. Obama’s goal of fundamentally transforming the U.S. and empowering the UN, but God put Trump in office; and “Make America Great Again” clashes with Obama’s goal.

Satan’s Deep State is behind it, and they are desperate to get Trump out of office because four more years of Trump will interfere with the UN’s goal of world government by 2030.

People need to pay careful attention to these goals because Biden is clearly on record for supporting Obama’s goal to fundamentally change America, and for his desire to create and lead in the shaping of the NWO (Google the quotes).

Know that the Rapture will take place before the Antichrist appears, but these things indicate that if Biden (or someone of the Deep State’s choice) becomes president, that person will bring in the NWO, and that would be a strong indication that the Rapture is close.

For your information, one of the Sustainable Development goals is population control (a global right to abortion, LGBQT rights, etc.).

Biden said if he is elected, one of his first executive orders will be to re-fund Planned Parenthood and do anything he can to be as pro-abortion as he possibly can be. (He is supporting the UN agenda which requires the weakening of the U.S.)

Having said this, here are five recent events that seem significant:

One, on June 19, 2020, the World Economic Forum (WEF) announced that it will hold its annual meeting in Davos, Switzerland, in Jan. 2021 and the theme will be the “Great Reset.”

The “Great Reset” means changing every aspect of society by redistributing the world’s wealth, enacting a global tax, supporting world government, and more.

On that same day, former U.S. VP, Al Gore, went on TV to call for a “Reset” of the global economy to support “climate change.”

He said air pollution caused by burning fossil fuels heightens the death rates of the Coronavirus.

Expect what the WEF agrees to at that Jan. 2021 meeting to be pushed on the world shortly thereafter.

Mr. Biden has already come out in favor of tax increases in the U.S., and if he is elected, he will be at the president’s desk when the request to fund the New World Order goes around the world.

Two, on June 25, 2020, the 75th anniversary of the adoption of the UN Charter, UN Sec.-Gen. Guterres said, “The world needs an overarching level of multilateral governance that can sideline problematic ‘national interests.’” (In my words, he was saying, “The world needs groups of nations, not one person, with the power to set aside the desires of individual nations.”)

Guterres said there is a need to “reimagine the way nations cooperate.”

Guterres added, “We need a networked multilateralism, bringing together the U.N. system, regional organizations, international financial institutions and others.” (Know that I believe the Bible teaches that 10 regional groups of nations will rise and be headed by the 10 leaders or 10 kings before the Antichrist rises.)

Three, on June 26, 2020, it was reported that Facebook will start blocking and removing everything that criticizes the globalist agenda.

They immediately placed a “hate speech” warning label on a Republican pro-Trump video campaign ad.

The video shows true events, but Facebook gave in to people that want to silence the events.

The next day, it was reported that Republicans and conservatives (Sean Hannity, Jim Jordan, Kayleigh McEnany, Ted Cruz, Rand Paul and others) are flocking to a new app called @parler_app

Four, on June 29, 2020, NYC Mayor de Blasio announced plans to cut $1 billion from NYC’s police budget.

Some of the leftists complained that defund the police means defund, not cut.

Many local police departments won’t submit to globalist control, so the globalists want all local police departments disarmed, dismantled or placed under the federal government to weaken the resistance to their global policies.

In years past, some globalists have suggested that U.S. troops be sent out of the U.S., and troops from other countries be brought into the U.S. to deal with U.S. citizens that might want to resist the surrender of America.

Citizens need to elect politicians that won’t go along with these control tactics.

God may use the next U.S. presidential election to impact how soon the New World Order will take over, but regardless of who wins, events are now moving with unprecedented speed, and we are almost there.

Five, in my article that was posted last week, I reported that Atty. Gen. Barr said that some of the individuals and groups that have been involved in the violence in the U.S. may be supported by foreign entities.

A friend sent me an article this week that says the U.S. has caught Communist China supplying weapons to Antifa and Black Lives Matter.

https://www.naturalnews.com/2020-07-03-communist-china-providing-automatic-weapons-to-antifa-black-lives-matter.html

I am not making any of these things up, and if these things are true, there are no words to convey how serious all of this is in light of Bible prophecy.

The NWO could drag on for a while, or something could happen that causes it to come together almost overnight.

Many think things are happening fast now, but they will happen faster in the future.

Every church member needs to be sure they are really saved, and every person that hasn’t accepted Jesus as their Saviour needs to sincerely do that immediately.