so the US is trying to use its clampdown on Cuban oil imports to increase capitalist relationships in the country. it's insisting that it will let some oil in but only if it goes to private owners, not the state, and only if it's for use in the private sector. for over 60 years they've been blockading and sabotaging the country in hopes of fomenting government overthrow — or at least to strangle Cuban development. whether the US is trying to insert its corporations into the country to extract wealth and undermine local social services, or whether it's aiming to increase the size and power of the local capitalist classes in the Cuba itself, this approach is a big change in strategy, and one that's putting Cuba in an even tougher spot
According to the Treasury Department, the United States will allow oil to enter Cuba as long as the fuel is handled on the island by private citizens and companies, thus attempting to wrest control of not only its energy security from the state, but also to strengthen the private sector.
In addition, Washington clarified: “To be authorized, exports must be for the use of the Cuban private sector and for private economic sector activities, including humanitarian needs.” The agreement stipulates that oil and gas sent to Cuba must necessarily leave from the United States, even if its origin was Venezuela or another country.
the office romance gl Hak Na My Boss (I Love You) starring Yoshi Rinrada and Diana Flipo is currently filming 🎬
this is the first gl to have a trans woman in a leading role!! 🥳🏳️⚧️
synopsis: My name is Chama, the owner of an import-export company so successful that I was given several businesswoman awards. As my business grew, the need for more employees grew as well, which led me to meet Nilmookda. She was a newly graduated student who had applied for the accounting department. The moment I saw her, I knew it was love at first sight. She was the one for me. I began giving her bouquets, leaving Post-its on her desk, and showering her with fruits and gifts. But her reaction was not what I expected. She became paranoid, convinced someone was watching her. Oh, even though my intentions were good, her response made me lose all confidence!
⭐ starring Diana Flipo as Chama and Yoshi Rinrada as Nilmookda
📖 adapted from the novel I Love You by Chao Planoy (Gap, Us, Pluto, Affair and more)
🎥 directed by Golf Tanwarin (Love Bully, The Eclipse, Wandee Goodday, Love Like A Bike). Golf themself is trans so this show is in good hands!! fun fact they are Thailand's first ever trans MP
🎞️ produced by S Class Entertainment (Love Like A Bike)
👀 bl watchers might know Yoshi from The Sign where she played Sand
or from Daou's Lalalye mv
Yoshi is a famous actress and beauty queen. she has spoken up about only accepting roles that don't disrespect or discourage trans people:
"Every time I am contacted (for a role in a drama), whether it’s high or low budget, I always ask about the ending – will there be an insult to trans people? Will there be a scene where men run away when they know I am trans? where they are shocked to hear my voice? where they catch that I am trans and leave me? If the script is well-written, even if it’s not high budget, I will take the role as long as they support LGBTQ+"
(translation cr OGTNAF on twitter)
LET'S GIVE THIS SHOW A LOT OF SUPPORT!!!!
➡️ S Class Entertainment on twitter, Yoshi's new twitter account + instragram
Deeply divided by nationalism and deprived of its vast colonies by the last century’s catastrophic two World Wars, western Europe has been i
World Wars 1 and 2 fatally weakened capitalist colonialism. [...] The private capitalist classes atop each colonialist nation had understood the colonies’ importance for their profits and thus for their imperial economies. They went to war in large part to retain their colonies. After the two World Wars, they faced, separately and together, momentous challenges to their existence. As their empires dissolved in wars of independence, losing them threatened capitalists’ profits and their national economies. Worse still was a potential alliance linking ex-colonies, the Comintern nations, and those capitalists’ own domestic socialist and communist parties and unions. Fearing such developments, nothing less than the survival of 20th century European capitalism seemed at stake for European capitalists and their supporters.
To undo this threat western Europe appealed to the post-World War 2 global hegemon, the United States. Within a few years after 1945, the US had scooped up much of what European and Japanese colonialisms had lost. US capitalists moved into newly independent, ex-colonies to widen and deepen their economic dependence via the dollar as world currency and both trade with and capitalist investments from the US. European capitalists lost everything or else had to settle for positions as junior partners of their US counterparts. Europe as a whole followed suit and became the junior partner of the US in most other dimensions (NATO, geo-politics, financial and cultural institutions, etc.) [...]
Ever since 1945, western European capitalists had set themselves to rebuild their economies by producing goods and services of better quality and/or cheaper than the US output that dominated both the US and other markets. This included some investments in their former colonies, rendering them economically dependent notwithstanding their political independence. The latter became more performative than substantive. It remains that way in many areas. The crucially important exception was the spectacular economic growth of the People’s Republic of China. That changed everything and continues to do so. It is transforming the world economy as it takes an ever more powerful place therein.
China’s still export-driven manufacturing economy competes globally and ever more successfully with what remains of manufacturing in the US and in Europe. China competes as well as an importer of energy and other inputs. Chinese competition added strains to the European and US economies that were already struggling to cope with the declines of their empires. Europe already had had a century of decline whereas the US was new to decline with many of its citizens steadfastly committed to denial as their coping mechanism of choice.
Western European capitalism had partly offset its decline first by post-war reconstruction, then by explosions of consumer credit. Then (and especially after 1989), Europe welcomed waves of cheap immigrant labor, while expanding eastward to re-absorb eastern Europe into its economic operations much as it was doing with its former colonies. Pushing NATO eastward and expanding EU membership were the chief mechanisms to accomplish western Europe’s capitalist neocolonialism. [...]
The shock of Trump’s abandonment of Europe as the US economy’s junior partner accelerated the decline of Europe. Once it had been the dominating center of a planet it had colonized. Now it had fallen to a poor third place in a world economy increasingly dominated by what had once been poor corners of that planet. On one side stood the declining but still strong US, on the other the rising People’s Republic of China. No wonder the Ukraine war drove Russia to declare its identity shifting from European to Asian. [...]
Given the deep personal opportunism cultivated in western European leaders by their subordinate (to the US) situation, they grasped that Trump’s betrayal threatened their careers. Trump’s repeated insults of and disdain for western Europe risked provoking European voters to turn against leaders seen as slavish toward Trump’s US. [...] Voters might ask where the money would come from to finance European rearmament when the US defense umbrella closed. If enhanced, would budget allocations for the military diminish outlays for mass public social services, raise their taxes or both. Europeans began to wonder out loud whether the Ukraine-Russia war being fought to the last Ukrainian, might prefigure a US war with Russia/China fought to the last European? [...] How that plays out in European politics provides new opportunities for the left and the right and existential threats to the traditional centrist pro-US political leadership trying desperately to retain power. [...]
Europe’s old US-linked political leaders have now found a way to arrest or maybe even reverse Europe’s frightening decline. It is the only way to do that they can see or imagine. That way can, they believe, both keep them in power in the short run and give them a new economic growth opportunity in the longer term. [...] Europe’s leaders believe they can accomplish this by pumping up mass anxiety and fear around urgent preparations for a war against Russia. To that end, they demonize Russia beyond even the levels achieved against Stalin and Stalinism during the Cold War. Those leaders hope that an adequately terrified Europe will keep voting for them for a while. Longer run hopes entail imagining Russia’s military defeat and consequent de-jure or de-facto dismemberment. The resulting sub-units of old Russia would then offer Western Europe a new colonial opportunity, a vast expanse for profitable investment to obtain food, raw materials, and possibly workers to rejuvenate western European capitalism. The same western European leaders who criticize Trump lusting after Denmark’s Greenland indulge parallel lusts after Russia’s geographic expanse.
summary: south korea's most notorious drug king pin lived life as a ghost; never seen, yet never to be crossed. never in your face, but never too far away. never in the room, but always listening.
by day, he lived life as a shadow with a reputation -- ruthless, unforgiving, impatient.
at night? well, at night he was something just a little bit softer.
pairing: jeon jungkook x (f) reader; jeon jungkook x (f) oc.
rating: mature, 18+; mdni.
word count: 5.2k
warnings: drugdealer!jungkook, drug references, violence, unprotected sex, rough sex, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), guns, pregnancy.
masterpost
available on ao3
—————————————————————————-
It was rare that there was anything Jeon Jungkook couldn’t obtain. Money, drugs, women, upper class luxuries. Ever since he had been introduced to the world that put the term ‘sin’ to shame, it had bowed down at the mention of his name. Never his actual name, of course. To the world of guilty pleasures and intoxicated misfortunes, he was simply known as The Ghost. Never seen, never heard; yet somehow possessing the ability to make moves no one saw coming from miles away. Tilt the world on its axis without leaving a trace.
He had acquired the business from his uncle who had been in his late 50s and looking to retire; put aside the life of living in the shadows and enjoy what he had left of it. Jungkook had been 22 and searching for his path in life — the timing was perfect, the moment inevitable.
He was now 27 and had mastered the business like an art form — at least mostly. He oversaw nearly every drug import and export that occurred in South Korea, with his base being in the heart of Busan. The city wasn’t nearly as busy as Seoul; less potential eyes on him and his operation. But he was close enough where he could catch an hour plane ride to the capital if he needed to.
“He knows the shipment is supposed to arrive an hour after the confirmation time. This is his last job, he was already on thin fucking ice.”
The words he muttered to himself had been nearly the first spoken by Jungkook in the past hour. Rarely ever out of his office, he now stood underneath the familiar pier, looking out into the clear sea before him. The night sky made it nearly impossible to see, illuminated only by the slivers of light from the moon.
The businessman was accompanied by two muscular guards about 8 inches his stature, both sporting black hair with fitted black t-shirts and slacks. They stood silently and watchful, more silent than the gentle waves around them. Each sported simple pistols near their waist, unafraid to use them if necessary.
When the sun rose, Jungkook owned a security company. It was how he had become acquainted with the guards who followed him around most of the day. They were quiet and loyal men — had been since Jungkook started the business.
Truthfully, his security business mostly ran itself. He had an old friend, Park Jimin, who had gone to college for accounting. He ran the books and formed schedules; he mostly worked remotely but he’d visit the office a couple days out of the week. It was fairly simple — clients who needed security paid in cash, Jungkook would supply the workers and Jimin handled anything inbetween. He was compensated well for it.
Jungkook did his best to make sure the finances for both his endeavors never clashed. The last thing he desired was to put his classmate, who knew nothing of his second life, in harms way. His personal guards were on payroll like everyone else the company hired — however, any overtime they received was directly from Jungkook, off the books. He paid them handsomely for their silence and loyalty.
Contemplating, Jungkook began to pace back and forth in the thinning sand, hands shoved deeply in the pockets of his dark grey, Giorgio Armani suit. His black tie was rather unruly—loosened thirty minutes prior when his patience had started to run dry.
In his line of business, structure was vital — deadlines, organization, punctuality. All of which were currently being violated.
Twenty minutes passed before the sound of rougher waves drew his attention. An hour later than expected, the small boat could be seen off in the distance, closing in on the drop off location. They never traveled large or in anything flashy; never wanting to stick out, operating in the shadows. Fairly content now that he laid his eyes on the boat in the distance, Jungkook turned his feet in the sand, looking at the body guard that stood to his right.
“When he drops off the load, please make sure all $50,000 is there and the inventory matches the order. Lock it all in the safe, then you’re free to go. I’ll handle distribution in the morning.”
The day had been much longer than expected.
On average, Jungkook was home around 9pm. However, he was beginning to encounter the issue of delayed shipments and logistical errors he had to fix. He wasn’t a fan of having to come out of the shadows — it put everything he worked hard for at risk.
One of his oldest workers, Jihun, was a friend of his uncle’s who had originally stayed on to make sure Jungkook easily acclimated himself to the business. He was a major part of the operation — performing background checks to make sure sellers were credible, scheduling meetings to perform trades and drop offs . What was suppose to be a couple years turned into five years and he was finally ready to retire. Jungkook couldn’t help but oblige. However, finding a replacement for him proved to be difficult. Jungkook had been attempting to do it remotely with the help of a few workers who had only ever communicated with him over email and had never seen his face. It was sloppy, but he was working every day to tighten it up.
The hum of gentle music on the radio settled him in for the 45 minute drive home. He relaxed in the seat of his black Mercedes truck, reaching for his personal cellphone he rarely ever used unless the sun had set. A warm smile spread across his lips as he looked down at the phone, clicking on the message thread titled ‘babygirl 💗’.
jungkook:
missing you, thinking about you. home soon, baby. 00:13
babygirl 💗:
missing you too, baby. 00:14
The message came with a photo attachment Jungkook immediately opened, halfway keeping his eyes on the highway as he drove through the night.
The attachment displayed a picture of a woman in a pink silk nightgown that hugged her curves, black lace v-line exposing the plump of her breasts just enough to leave something for the imagination. He muttered curses under his breath, quickly typing back a response while keeping his eyes ahead. He felt the zipper on his pants struggle to expand as he attempted (failed) to keep his wild thoughts at bay.
jungkook:
you’re fucking beautiful. be at the door when i get there. 00:16
The 45 minute drive home was a breeze, city lights flashing in the distance, loafer clad shoe pressed hard to the gas. His eyes played over the photo what felt like a million times, desire running through his veins like a river.
She had the garage door open for him when he arrived, liked clockwork. She made everything function and flow behind closed doors for him; where as he was in charge and structured in his daily life, she kept their home life in order. She always had a meal cooked, his clothes pressed, the house clean, their appointments in order, the groceries stocked. He cherished her; more than anything else in his life — in his world that was black and white during the day, she filled it with her radiant colors at night.
He parked his car, fingers slipping into the glove compartment to grab the golden band that waited for him. A soft smile on his lips, he slipped it onto the ring finger of his left hand. Unlocking the door of his home, Jungkook took in the smell of washing powder, accompanied by her sweet scent of vanilla and spring that filled the air, garage door closing behind him. His eyes immediately glared towards the dimly lit entry way, seeing the woman standing in the same pink silk nightgown she wore in the sultry picture.
A low groan emitted from his lips, dark brown eyes pooling with shades of lust that the woman found all too familiar. She gave him a teasing smile, softly curled hair pooling over her shoulders in a way that made her look angelic. He removed his suit jacket, laying it over the couch next to them.
“Strip.”
Keeping eye contact with Jungkook, the woman slowly began to shred her gown as she had been told. She was always a good listener when he spoke.
His daze followed her fingers as she removed the straps of her nightgown one by one. The fabric slipped easily from her fingers, catching ever so slightly as it slipped past the plump of her breasts. Jungkook’s breath hitched, causing him to loosen his tie, followed by the belt. He stepped closer to her with calculated steps, almost as if he was scared to touch her — scared to ruin the perfect image that stood before him.
The cold air sent shivers down her spine as she gently teased her hair, watching him stare at her in amazement.
“….You’re a work of art. You know that?”
Stepping closer towards her, Jungkook gently cupped her face, thumbs rubbing her warm cheeks. She smelled of vanilla body wash and ecstasy, drawing every inch of sanity he had left to the brink. She shivered as she felt his clothed body press against her skin, the bulge in his pants growing larger as he held her.
Catching the glow of her eyes in the dim light, he smiled at her briefly before meeting her perfect lips with his own. Their lips danced in a familiar, yet electrifying rhythm that sent sparks through his body. In 5 years they had kissed what felt like a million times but kisses like this never got old. She nearly melted into his touch, feeling her knees begin to weaken. He was so warm, so handsome, so hers. He smelled of amber and sandalwood, skin of his hands as soft as it had been when he left that morning. Good, she thought. He was unharmed.
Her fingers entwined in his pristinely cut hair, four carat diamond ring never catching on the gentle strands. It had been three years since they had gotten married. As with most things in Jungkook’s world, the proposal had been in the dead of night. He woke her up from her sleep, chanting about a surprise that couldn’t wait. With tired eyes she held out her arms as he slipped on her robe and carried her to his truck. She fell asleep nearly instantly in the Mercedes, the soft human of jazz music luring her to sleep once he hit the highway. When she woke up, Jungkook was kissing her cheek, luring her out of the vehicle and into a park that had the perfect view of the stars in the sky. He had walked her around the park for a little while, going over memories from their past and professing his love in a way only Jungkook could — calculated, perfect and with beautiful imagery. Once they had reached the end of the park, there was a picnic table next to the river in their sight. The table was covered in glowing candles, a small meal he prepared and 24 bouquets of the deepest red roses combined to make one large bouquet. One for every month they had been together.
He got down on one knee in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, asking her to be his forever. And she couldn’t have said yes faster. It was the proposal she had asked him for, back when their one year anniversary came around and he asked her if she ever considered forever with him. She told him ‘of course’, thinking he couldn’t have asked a sillier question. But she requested that her proposal not be anything flashy; just simple, meaningful and when she least expected it. And he had delivered in every aspect.
“So perfect like this. Look at you, baby.”
The wide palm of Jungkook’s hands groped the plush of her ass, kneading it ever so slightly as her eyes locked on his — sultry innocence and uncharted passion; he lived for it, breathed it even.
Locking in on her eyes, Jungkook slowly dropped to his knees, hands pressing into her hips and caressing her pelvic bone. She wore a small lace thong that kept nearly nothing to the imagination with its slit in the middle. He pressed a gentle kiss to her stomach, then to her clit. The moan she swore was gentle echoed through the walls of the mansion. It was way too big for just the two of them and their dog, Bam, asleep upstairs — but they called it home.
“You’re so sensitive. Been waiting for me to come eat you all day, haven’t you?”
She moaned a hasty ‘yes’, fingers gripping his hair as his tongue began to gently lick her wet folds, slit in her thong providing him perfect access. The familiar taste of her arousal earned a moan of appreciation from him. He had thought it was insane to say she tasted like home but he knew no word greater to describe the taste of her on his lips. She tighten her grip in his hair as she held back her gentle cries, lost in the way his eyes lazily met hers as he took his time devouring her.
In this space, time stood still. In this home, they were in their own world.
The cool touch of his wedding band against her pelvis made her smile, head dipping back in ecstasy as his lips began to softly suck her sensitive clit. As her orgasm neared, the touch of his ring brought back a distant memory.
“I’m not a good person.”
It was their second month together, his eighth month in the business. They stood in the middle of a crowded club, neither of their style but they made an amusing commitment to start trying new things together. They had both been dancing, smiles on their faces as the music ran through their veins. The freedom he had felt as they danced, the way his heart pulled at him like he knew what this was becoming — or what it already was. He found himself no longer being able to looking into her eyes and promise her a world with no faults. As she stared back at him her eyes sparked of something Jungkook couldn’t quite place. She gave him a gentle smile, tightening her grip on his hand that rested in hers.
It wasn’t the smartest conversation to have in a room full of people, Jungkook knew better than that. He was a ghost in his work life and he never allowed himself to be seen out in public during working hours.
“Good is subjective, Kook. Do you hurt people?”
There was a small furrow of his eyebrows that he prayed she didn’t see. He stared down at her eyes, looking back at him as if he controlled the stars. He’d never get over that, the way she looked at him. He was convinced he wanted to see that look for the rest of his life. Hold that trust close to his heart like a prayer.
“Sometimes. Not unless I have to.” He firmly spoke, fingers never letting go of hers. By now the song had changed but the people around them continued to dance, paying them no mind.
“Do you actually own a security company?”
“I do.”
“Is that where you go when you tell me you’re going to work?”
“That’s usually where my day starts.”
“If I ever ask you what you mean — all this saying you’re not a good person. Will you be honest with me?”
Jungkook answered without hesitation, taking himself partly by surprise.
“I will. You have my word.”
“Then stop talking and keep dancing with me.”
She gripped the couch behind her, feeble feeling arms being the only thing holding her up.
“You’re so wet for me, baby. Been waiting all day to taste you.”
“God, Jungkook.” Whimpers escaped her lips as her fingers tightened in his hair in an effort to brace herself. He used one hand to hold her hip while the other began unbuttoning his dress shirt that had become far too hot.
In the rush of feverish kisses and passionate touches, they found themselves moving from the living room to the california king with her cheek pressed to the mattress, his hips driving her to the brink of insanity and pleasure. He kissed the arch of her back as he thrusted his hips, the recoil of her ass making him feel dizzy.
“Who do you belong to, baby.” His growled his words like less of a question, more of statement. Tears of pleasure welled in her eyes and she melted into his steady pace, lips parting as she struggled to breathe out an answer. She felt so full, so complete — mind so empty, bliss unmeasured.
“You, Kook. I belong to you.”
“And this pussy?” He kept a hand on her waist as the other wrapped her curly strands around his palm, pulling her hair ever so lightly to the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Yours, Kook. God, harder.” She gripped the sheets, fingertips shaking with impending arousal. He always did this. Fucked her to the point where she felt insatiable and nearly incoherent; craving him so much it made her entire soul shake. Like an addict breaking sobriety.
“You’re going to cum again for me? So fucking greedy. Go ahead, cum.”
Her orgasm arrived shortly after, her fingers clutching the sheets as she cried out his name. The pump of his hips stilled abruptly as he pressed his head against her back, hands gripping her breasts as he released inside of her. He moaned in a way that rung in the woman’s ears, sex heavy in his tone and her name breathless on his tongue, heightening her climax beneath him. The ragged sounds of their breathing clung to walls of the bedroom. Jungkook pressed gentle kisses down the woman’s spine, savoring the feeling of being inside of her for just a little longer — safe, peaceful, perfect.
“Rough day at work?” She spoke after they had finished cleaning themselves briefly, lying in their afterglow and catching their breath. Her head rested on his chest, tracing his abs with gentle and familiar intrigue.
“Frustrating to say the least.”
“I could tell. You fucked a little harder than usual tonight.”
With her head against his chest, she listened as his heartbeat sped up. “Harder? Was I too rough today, baby?”
“No, never, Kook. I don’t think you could be rough with me if you tried.”
His finger pressed against her chin, tilting it just enough so that her lips met his in a warm kiss. It was lazy, thankful, still a little hungry — he always did a great job of that; expressing what he didn’t say with kisses. She relished at the taste of herself still left on his lips.
His fingers gentle brushed hair from her face, stroking the plump of her cheeks as he pulled her closer.
The sound of the central air slowly pulled them towards sleep, dinner long forgotten at the table in exchange for serotonin and coitus.
“I’ll be leaving early in the morning, around 6.” Jungkook lazily mumbled, arms around the woman’s body pulling her impossibly closer. She hummed in response, eyes heavy with sleep and satisfaction.
“If I’m not up, wake me when you get up?”
“I promise, beautiful.”
When the sun set, Jungkook was a husband.
She had been his secret. In the life full of drugs, money and evil he lead, he had somehow managed to keep her hidden away. It started off when they met 5 years ago during a charity event. Ironic, probably. She was an advocate for the development of cancer research and therapy for patients and families affected by the disease. Jungkook was an anonymous donor. He sat in the crowd but donated virtually under a pseudo name, assuring that he was always one of the highest donors.
They first locked eyes when she gave a speech at the end of the event. She had been wearing a light pink dress with bows that fell on her shoulders. She wore soft white heels and a smile that showed how passionate she was about the cause. Her eyes scanned the crowd as she spoke, clearly having obtained training in engaging an audience. He sat in nearly the furthest row but their eyes still met. Immediately, there was something curious yet familiar that hung in the air between them — something they couldn’t quite place their hands on. Her eyes hovered over him a few seconds too long before finishing her speech, engaging the crowd and thanking everyone for their volunteer efforts.
He was a man of stealth but he was a man of opportunity.
So he waited until the crowd dwindled and the donors said their farewell before walking up to her, watching her begin to clear her speech material from the podium. He had suavely introduced himself — confident, with a sweet smile and eyes that hoped she’d give him a few minutes of her time. She shook his extended hand, introducing herself with a playful glimmer in her gaze that he longed to know more about.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jeon. Have we met before?”
Jungkook woke up around 5:30 am. The smell of eggs and toast was the first thing to fill his nostrils. She had gotten up before him after all. She always did. As he came to, he felt the gentle presence of warm lips pressed against his neck, smooth hands sliding across his bare chest in a way that made his soul smile.
“Good morning to you too, baby.”
She echoed a hum of appreciation at his words as she continued to kiss his neck, hands sliding down until they reached the bulge in his boxers, caressing it softly.
“You drive me insane, do you know that?” Jungkook continued to keep his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of her touch all over his body. She kissed her way down to the hem of his boxers, toying with the fabric. She pulled them down ever so slowly, cock springing out to brush against the plump of her cheeks. She hummed in desire, beginning to press soft kisses to the head.
“If we had more time, I’d ride you.”
He twitched in her mouth, a groan for what could have been leaving his lips. A sleepy laugh slipped from both of their mouths. She gripped the girth in her hands as she began to alternate between slowly tracing her tongue over the head and taking what length she could into her mouth, eyes hypnotized in pleasure as she savored the weight of him on her tongue.
The guttural moan he released sounded throughout the bedroom, precum sucked from his head as soon as it appeared.
“Tonight, then. For right now, keep sucking baby.”
When they finished, the couple showered together and both indulged in the breakfast she had prepared. She helped him get dressed in another dark suit that occupied his closet, pressed to perfection just the way he liked it. She prepared an iced coffee for him and a protein drink for the drive.
She had mastered the art of Jeon Jungkook to a science. She knew his routine like the back of her hand; knew what he would say sometimes before he said it.
Soulmates.
Before she knew it, she was watching Jungkook seat himself in the drivers side seat, practically pulling her in the car as he covered her face with gentle kisses. If his crew could see him now — tucked into the shadows of his own home, bathed in the glow of the woman who made his heart sing — they’d never believe he was the same person they knew.
“Don’t worry your mind too much today, okay? I’m feeling a little tension in your shoulders.” Jungkook playfully massaged the woman’s shoulders, getting a lazy but fond smile from her in return.
“Can I make a request for the masseuse to do a home visit for you? Or would you rather go in person?”
“A home appointment sounds great, Kook. Thank you for thinking of me.” She traced random lines on his chest as he held her close, eyes scanning her face in search of what she wasn’t saying.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She loved that about him; his ability to know something bothered her without the need to pry.
“Nothing’s bothering me, I just haven’t been sleeping well lately.” She hated to lie to him. He always knew, without fail. But he never pressed. It wasn’t in his nature — with her, at least.
“I’ll make the call but if this massage doesn’t work, we’re seeing a doctor.”
She loved the way he spoke. So sure, so steady. He never left room for confusion or uncertainty, but he always took her into consideration.
He wanted to tell her that when she was ready to really tell him what was plaguing her mind, he’d be there. But he let her have it for now, not wanting to push her before she was ready.
“That sounds fine baby.” She gave him a soft grin, kissing his lips and stroking his cheek. She took a few seconds to admire him — the rosy tone of his cheeks that spread just a little as she stared at him — his big brown eyes that she never regretted getting lost in. He was everything she ever needed, she had been thoroughly convinced a million and one times.
“Be safe. Eyes on the road and head on a swivel.”
“I promise, my love.”
Soon she was waving goodbye to Jungkook as he pulled away from the home and onto the road. She waited until he was far in the distance to close the garage door. Once he did, she double checked that the doors in the house were locked and that the security system was armed. She closed all the curtains and headed to the kitchen, opening a bottom drawer she knew Jungkook would never check. Inside the drawer laid two pistols she quickly checked to make sure were still fully loaded with bullets. Seeing that they were, she closed the drawer contently, heading to her office.
Her office was her personal sanctuary. Having one at his place of work, Jungkook understood how important it was to have your own space to relax and work on your ideas, so he never entered without her permission. That’s why she had been able to leave the positive pregnancy tests on her desk for the past few days without him finding out.
She was only about a few weeks along, nowhere near close to showing. She figured she had a couple of months before she had to break the news. This had never exactly been in their plan. It was somewhat an unspoken assumption that they’d never have children — with the lifestyle that Jungkook lived and how busy he always was, it never seemed in the cards. They had used the family planning method for years without difficulty. She had recently recovered from being under the weather and she suspected that threw the cycle of things off somewhere along the lines.
For now, she tucked the four tests in her top draw, lying next to yet another black pistol. Tears welled in her eyes and she held her cellphone in her hands, contemplating if she should just call him and tell him.
Her excuse ended up being that he was likely driving and she didn’t want to distract him.
When she thought it about later, her excuse was that he must be busy at work and she wanted him to focus.
Her excuse when he came home that night, earlier than expected and in a much better mood than the previous day, was that he deserved to relax and she didn’t want to ruin his good day with news she was sure would devastate him.
It hadn’t been something they talked about, even when they got married. He never brought it up, so neither did she. She just loved him almost blindly, a blessing and a curse she was aware of.
As she held him that night, listening to his soft snores and stroking his hair as he slept, her mind raced and she contemplated what life could look like for them if she confessed and continued the pregnancy. Would he have to give up what made him Jungkook? Would she be stuck at home to care for the child while he continued to place himself in whatever situations he dealt with on a day-to-day basis? She couldn’t fathom that.
Staring at his sleeping face, she sighed and put her thoughts to rest, enjoying the weight of his body in her arms and eventually drifting off to sleep.
She wasn’t completely oblivious to everything.
She had long known that Jungkook only wore his wedding band at home. Through some snooping, she found out that he always kept it in the truck, safely tucked away as the only thing in his glove compartment. He thought she didn’t know that he took it off the second he got in the truck to leave for work. Or that he put it back on as soon as he parked in the garage every night. She found out after they had been married for about 3 months, noticing the lack of lines on his finger whenever he washed dishes.
She didn’t think he was throwing himself at women when she wasn’t around. But she did worry that they’d throw themselves at him. She did believe he portrayed himself as single once he left their home. What she didn’t believe was that he was doing it for some adulterous reason. At least that was her prayer.
She knew more about him than he thought. But she’d never ask him about it.
In 5 years together she hadn’t figured out exactly what he did outside of his security job.
She knew it likely wasn’t legal and that his daily life was surely more dangerous than he let on. She held his promise close to her heart every day; the promise he made to tell her his true occupation — the one that paid for the house, the cars, the suits, the lifestyle — if she ever asked. Truth was, she found herself a little too scared to ask. It’s better to be unaware, she convinced herself. She somehow told herself that it was better to sit at home and be unaware of if her husband would come every night than deal with the fact that the man she loved could be the devil himself.
Ultimatums, definites — two widely different sides of the spectrum.
His love was all consuming like that; thoughtful, selfless, inciting, promising. She had never feared him, not for a single second. But what scared her the most was that she knew she could find out he was the reincarnation of sin himself and she’d still never turn away. He treated her too good, loved her too hard, fucked her too perfect, knew her too well. She’d make any excuse in the world for him and sometimes that terrified her.
So she let him keep his secrets for now. She had hers too.
authors note: i haven’t written anything in years so any form of feedback is appreciated. thank you for reading! :)
The American working class has proven itself incapable of class struggle for centuries, and the few times it has come even remotely close to anything resembling an effective resolution have been crushed and rendered impotent by the bourgeoisie. What makes anyone seriously believe that American bourgeoisie, especially in a time where they could soon render human labour obsolete, will ever be defeated by the American proletariat? If they're consistently incapable of saving themselves, who CAN save them?
(thx anon for the opportunity to go off abt this topic at length) i mean that's certainly what the bourgeoisie want us to think right. and they have vast machinery to convince us, to make us think that they can't be defeated. but if it were rly impossible to overthrow them, they wouldn’t need all of that: not the violent repression, nor the sowing of political backwardness and confusion.
there's an example of how they confuse us right here: no bourgeoisie can "render human labour obsolete" ! in a capitalist enterprise, profit is acquired by paying workers less than the value of their labour. u cannot pay a fully automated process less than the value of its labour, u can't exploit a machine. from the capitalist point of view automation (like the current impact of AI) is necessary in order to keep up with competitors, but overall it exerts a tendency on the rate of profit to fall, because as productivity increases, human labour makes up a smaller and smaller fraction of the total cost of producing a given commodity. when this happens it pushes capitalists to acquire more capital by other means—means which, along with other aspects of over-accumulation, are the actual roots of the deepening crisis we see today: securing monopolies, speculation on financial, insurance, and real estate markets, gambling operations, new luxuries, wealth hoarding, privatizing state capital, exporting capital, orchestrating mass death, starting colonial wars and then inter-imperialist wars, etc.
this last one has been the catalyst for the largest mass proletarian revolts in the history of the usa: 4 million on strike in 1919 after WWI, 5 million on strike in 1945-1946 after WWII. there were also waves of wildcat strikes during and after the war in vietnam for which i don't have numbers. all of these imperialist wars saw advances for socialist revolution elsewhere in the world—russia, china, vietnam—as well as smaller (but still historic) steps forward in other imperialist powers—germany, italy, spain, france, portugal. we are ourselves in a deepening period of inter-imperialist conflict, and an international revolutionary situation is developing. as lenin says:
Imperialism is the eve of the social revolution of the proletariat. This has been confirmed since 1917 on a world-wide scale.
it's true that the proletariat of the usa has not succeeded (or even made particularly large advances compared to those within other imperialist powers) during these previous revolutionary situations. why? it's a big, important question. i won't try to give an exhaustive answer here, but i can share what i consider to be a few of the main factors:
first, "that bond between imperialism and opportunism" which lenin noted—with emphasis on british liberalism in his day—though he also wrote:
As a matter of fact the extraordinary rapidity and the particularly revolting character of the development of opportunism is by no means a guarantee that its victory will be durable: the rapid growth of a painful abscess on a healthy body can only cause it to burst more quickly and thus relieve the body of it. The most dangerous of all in this respect are those who do not wish to understand that the fight against imperialism is a sham and humbug unless it is inseparably bound up with the fight against opportunism.
additionally, a couple factors i would borrow from the theory of the (nuovo) partito comunista italiano. for one: the development of a regime of preventative counterrevolution (pages 26-29 in linked pdf) by the bourgeoisie of the usa at the beginning of the 20th century, which is currently fracturing. for another, and most critically: the lack of the subjective factor, a communist party that had a strategy for revolutionary seizure of power (pages 7-8 in linked pdf), a product of various failures and defeats for communists within the imperialist powers throughout subsequent phases of the imperialist epoch (which the linked document gets into throughout).
these factors have meant that there has not yet been a socialist revolution within any imperialist power, not just the usa. but as the current crisis unfolds we can learn from these failures and mistakes, we have so much more knowledge to draw from this time around, the entire fucking internet, like any random person has a device in their pocket that lets them access writings on revolutionary strategy and tactics from all over the world, translated, do u realize how hard it used to be to find that—and global migration has reached a stage that everywhere, there are people with ties to more advanced revolutionary struggles coming together in new places and trying to examine their conditions and bring people in, there are spontaneous movements of resistance that delegitimize the state and raise political consciousness and revive mass forms of struggle…
u gotta look at it long term. there is definitely still a lot of weirdness going on rn: a lot of strange leftovers from the dogmatic or economistic sects that have been the only communist groups in a lot of places for a while, especially since the long period of downturn beginning in the 70s, and a lot of young activists with very mixed consciousness—but if they have one thing that u dont, anon—that is, commitment, knowledge that nobody is coming to save them except for themselves—many of these ppl can be transformed thru practice. there are no guarantees, but we are in a historically unprecedented situation, and we have more accumulated practical knowledge than ever before. so at this point, it's a question of basic revolutionary attitude (page 53 onwards in linked pdf):
In our every moment, every action, the revolutionary’s response to the question “For whom?” is only one: for the oppressed and exploited masses. This is the core of the revolutionary standpoint.
to apply this to your questions: do you tell the proletariat of the usa that they can never do it, that they're dependent and incompetent, the exact same thing the bourgeoisie tells them, and do you accept that they are your enemy, the exact narrative that your national bourgeoisie probably tells you? or do you recognize that what it takes is the subjective factor, not let the usamerican communists off the fucking hook, and give them a kick in the ass to take up their responsibility? do u stand with the international proletariat or not?
and like, i accept that currently the answer to that question for a lot of ppl is just 'no', that nihilism is extremely prevalent, that from more fashionable perspectives i sound like an ultraleftist or a crackpot stuck in the past, and that it will take practical achievements rather than just propaganda on the part of communists to win many more over, if it rly is possible. and i also recognize that there are a lot of sincere communists who might agree with what ive written here to some extent—maybe the political economy parts—and not with some of the more ideological claims. but i admit that these are ideological, and that this is a problem that i hope to work out together—i have my own reservations about some of the ideological positions in the linked works too, and this is exactly my point—even now, a lot of ppl are coming to question the wool that has previously been pulled over our eyes, approaching these questions with determination and resolve rather than wallowing in despair, and if u sincerely approach these ppl in attempts to investigate their conditions and build unity rather than just swearing them off as incompetent and doing nothing, u can find out for urself that the conditions for political development are pretty ripe, even if the results of this are not yet super visible. so temper yr hopelessness w some humility, admit that ur current stand follows the line of the bourgeoisie, and take up revolutionary study if ur ready to change that. cus rly, in this world we live in, is there anything better to do?
7th Lord in 1st House : Spouse could be an independent worker, self-employed, gym trainer, hairdresser.
7th lord in 2nd House : Spouse may be a banker, dentist, chef, speech therapist, singer, musician, make up artist.
7th lord in 3rd House: Spouse may be a salesperson, marketer, teacher, lecturer, writer, mechanic, travel agent, cab driver, language translator, event manager, youtuber.
7th lord in 4th House: Spouse may be a builder (architecture), home business, real estate or car dealer, transport worker, cab driver, nation service.
7th lord in 5th House : Spouse may be an investment advisor, stock broker, entertainer, sportsperson, celebrity, baby sitter, teacher, advisor, counsellor, minister, politician, creator.
7th Lord in 6th House : Spouse may be a doctor, nurse, army person, police, banker, ngo worker, sanitisation worker, gym trainer, dietician, nutritionist, animal caretaker, sportsperson, yoga trainer.
7th lord in 7th House : Spouse may be a broker, business person, trader, wedding planner, lawyer.
7th Lord in 8th House : Spouse may be a doctor, surgeon, astrologer, banker, insurer, CA, investment banker, pms, mortician, metallurgist, researcher, chemical engineer, bomb defuser, miner, psychiatrist.
7th Lord in 9th House: Spouse may be a teacher, religious speaker, advisor, counsellor, travel agent, import exporter, professor, lawyer, visa agent, sportsperson, author.
7th lord in 10th House : Spouse may be a govt worker, self employed, administrator.
7th Lord in 11th House : Spouse may be a coder, web designer, IT expert, event planner, fundraiser, network marketing, advertiser, Youtuber.
7th lord in 12th House : Spouse may be a doctor, nurse, spiritual leader, import exporter, NGO worker, meditation teacher, fiction writer.
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1. Who has power, and how much of it? What is the hierarchy?
2. If you had to describe this society as rigid or free, with no nuance, which word would you pick and why?
3. What jobs are…Respected? Hated? Feared? Stigmatized? Sought after?
4. What jobs exist in it that don’t exist in the real world? Why do these jobs need to be done?
5. Do people generally have the sort of job they want to have, or is it a matter of what their family does, or of what is accessible to them, or of what pays?
6. How are different ages treated? Why?
7. What happens to people when they grow old?
8. What happens to the sick and disabled?
9. What is valued in this world? Magic, strength, intellect, talent, physical appearance, royal blood, caste?
10. What religions, if any, are practiced? How much of a hold does each have on the world? What happens to people who don’t believe?
11. How do people communicate across long distances?
12. Is change and evolution feared, or do people find it exciting?
13. How educated is the general populace? What’s the literacy rate? How much does the average person know about mathematics, or biology, or the daily goings-on of their government?
14. How much does the government keep secret from the general populace? How much of that stays secret?
15. How much is community valued? Do people care for one another, or is it more of an Every-Man-For-Himself situation?
16. Is there policy in place to care for those who cannot care for themselves, or do those people rely on the goodwill of others?
17. If there is magic, how many people have it? How much access to magical knowledge or objects does the average person have? How is magic integrated into the world?
18. How is crime treated? Is the government lax, or overbearing?
19. How fair is the government? Is it more or less forgiving of certain groups?
20. What is the most common mode of transport, and how accessible is it to the general populace?
21. What are the society’s main imports and exports? Are they more necessities, or luxuries?
22. How much power does your society have on the nations around it?
23. What does your society rely on other societies to produce? Why can they not make this themselves?
24. What is the opinion of the general populace on other nations?
25. How accessible is international travel and emigration?
26. Does your society have more immigrants, or emigrants? Why? What nations are most of these people from, or where are they going?
27. What superstitions are prevalent in your society? How much do they impact daily life and the world?
28. How much influence does the general populace have over their government? What is this relationship like?
29. What does your society’s healthcare situation look like? How advanced and accessible is it?
30. What sports or other events does your society participate in? Do they involve other nations? How much of an influence do these events have on the society as a whole?
31. What holidays are there? How connected are they to religion? Do people get time off work for them? What do people participate in to celebrate?
32. What kind of pets do people have, if any? Are they mostly around to perform jobs, or just for affection?
33. What does the education scene look like? Is it accessible to everyone, or is it dependent on money or some other factor? Is it provided or controlled by the government?
34. What is taught in school? If writing a magic school, how much of the curriculum consists of regular classes like reading, writing, and mathematics?
35. How often and where do people barter or trade? Is trading a thing, or is the exchange of goods facilitated entirely through money?
36. How often and in what situations do people haggle? How is haggling viewed by vendors and customers? Is it seen as an insult, or is it expected?
37. What do certain goods cost, and why? Why are the most expensive things expensive, and vica versa?
38. How are government leaders (And, for monarchies, members of the royal family) treated and viewed by the general public?
39. What is the process for convicting someone of a crime? Does the accused get a trial?
40. What crimes are most common in your society? Why?
"three types of animals defined by utility and simplified transactional relationship to humans. including categories of productivity, domestic companionship, or passive/threat/disgust/pest":
British and colonial American institutional and folk taxonomy of "the natural world" in the eighteenth century. The unofficial-but-still-influential way of imagining animals in "utilitarian" ways that support material accumulation and colonial "productive land" and "land improvement." Like a secularization of previously explicitly-religious "great chain of being" schema but adapted for Englightenment-era scientific cosmology that reifies racialized imaginaries of environmental space and reinforces class/racial/species hierarchies with technical expertise.
"we have to do something about the distances":
Britain and the United States in the nineteenth century trying to control the globe and conquer "frontiers" and obsessively trying to more quickly and efficiently move trade, industrial products, information, communications, administrators, indentured laborers, and imperial military across seas and vast distances to cement hegemony by utilizing technical expertise with railroad networks, sailing ships, steamships, investments in cartographic surveying, latitude/longitude establishment, canals, and elaborate systems of telegraph lines.
"they should make a big heavy machine beast that can pull tons of black iron across grasslands and such":
British Empire technicians, Canadian administrators, and their US advisers from 1900-1930-ish when the Canadian "federal government also established breeding programs designed to cross cattle with bison or yak to create a new [ultimate] range animal" with "a reserve stock of pure blood bison of the highest potency" and an "enthusiasm for stocking northern [boreal and northern Great Plains] environments with exploitable game populations" when "nothing, in fact, captured the imagination of bureaucrats and private promoters in the early twentieth century more than the idea of importing domesticated reindeer from northern Europe as a the vanguard of a settled and prosperous agricultural civilization in northern Canada." And they partially pursued the project as "a response to the success of Americans" in "assimilating" the Inuit by importing 82,000 European reindeer to Alaska by 1916: "[A]n Alaskan Bureau of Education Report proudly proclaimed [...]: 'within less than a generation, the [slur] throughout northern and western Alaska have been advanced through one entire stage of civilization.'"
And in the same decade with British administrators in Southeast Asia, when they pursued the "purchase of elephants whose labour made possible the logging and transport of this harder-to-reach teak [in Burma]. By the period between 1919 and 1924, elephants represented the largest assets owned by the biggest timber firm operating in the colony […]. This animal capital, of around three thousand creatures, represented [...] the equivalent of roughly a third of the corporation's liabilities [...]. And these elephants must have been busy. This five-year period saw half a million tons of teak exported out of the colony, the overwhelming majority of which was exported by a handful of large British-owned firms. Their ownership of these beasts of burden gave imperial trading firms a considerable advantage."
"america will be a manufacturing nation once more , We're going to build great and terrible machines, so great and terrible they carve the land they walk on, the sun will set and it will rise and the forge will still burn and the hammer will still ring true folks"
Without comment:
[Quote.] [O]n the morning of February 20, 1915, [...] Franklin K. Lane, the secretary of the Interior […] intoned to the crowd, “The seas are now but a highway before the doors of the nations […]. The greatest adventure is before us, the gigantic adventure of an advancing democracy, strong, virile, kindly, and in that advance we shall be true to the indestructible spirit of the American Pioneer.” The fair did not officially commence, however, until President Wilson […] pressed a golden key linked to an aerial tower […], whose radio waves sparked the top of the Tower of Jewels, tripped a galvanometer, and closed a relay, swinging open the doors of the Palace of Machinery, where a massive diesel engine started to rotate. […] [T]he PPIE was organized to commemorate the completion of the Panama Canal […]. As one of the many promotional pamphlets declared, "California marks the limit of the geographical progress of civilization. For unnumbered centuries the course of empire has been steadily to the west." […] One subject that received an enormous amount of time and space was […] the areas of race betterment and tropical medicine. Indeed, the fair's official poster, the "Thirteenth Labor of Hercules," [the construction of the Panama Canal] symbolized the intertwined significance of these two concerns […] that crowned San Francisco as the Jewel of the Pacific. […] The construction of the Panama Canal unfolded against the backdrop of […] the installation of American colonial rule in Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Philippines, Guam, and Hawai’i. […] In San Francisco, […] this meant the presence of artifacts such as Fountain of Energy, a strong male mounted on horseback […] crowned by figurines of “Fame” and “Valor.” Referred to by its creator as the Victor of the Canal, this sculpture symbolized “the vigor and daring of our mighty nation […].” In his address titled "The Physician as Pioneer," the president-elect of the American Academy of Medicine, Dr. [W.H.], credited the colonization of the Mississippi Valley to the discovery of quinine […]. [A]t the Pan-American Medical Congress, where its president, Dr. [C.R.] delivered a lengthy address praising the hemispheric security ensured by the 1823 Monroe Doctrine and "the combined genius of American medical scientists […]" in the Canal Zone. […] [A]s [CR]'s lecture ultimately disclosed, his understanding of Pan-American medical progress was based […] on the enlightened effects of "Aryan blood" in American lands. […] [End quote.]
Source: Alexandra Minna Stern. "Race Betterment and Tropical Medicine in Imperial San Francisco." Eugenic Nation: Faults and Frontiers of Better Breeding in Modern America. Second Edition. 2016.
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