#Narciso Paulo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

topguncortez · 1 year

Text

Bad Medicine | Chapter 2

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

word count: 5.4k

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good. MAJOR SLOW BURN (ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

WARNINGS: death/murder, guns, violence, physical abuse, cursing, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, grief, blood, nudity, mentions of drugs, mentions of a brothel

Y/N’s apartment looked over the upper East Side of New York. It was a cute little place that was within walking distance to the club. It gave her both things that she loved, the chaotic life that came with living in New York, and privacy to where she felt safe coming home at night. And that was partially because of Rueben, aka Payback, her bodyguard that Rafael had hired when she moved back to New York. That was part of Rafael’s deal in sending Y/N back to New York, she had to have a bodyguard. Y/N was smart though, and could figure out how to leave her bodyguards in the dust and jet off around the world, except Rueben could see right through that all.

Y/N stood on the balcony, taking in her surroundings for the last time. She hadn’t stood out on the balcony in a long time. Good and bad memories filled her mind as she held her cup of tea close to her body for some warmth. Images of her relationship with Francisco filled her mind and sent a shiver down her spine. She also thought about all the good times she had while working at the club. Sure it wasn’t the best job she could ever have, but she loved the girls she worked with. She was probably going to miss them more than anything.

“Y/N?” Gianni asked softly, “You ready?”

Y/N and Rueben had spent the whole night packing. She looked over at the small carryon and purse sitting on her bed. She packed the essentials to make the trip over. Her brothers would be sending the rest of her clothing in the coming weeks.

Y/N took a deep breath, she wanted to tell him no. She didn’t know a thing about Jake Seresin, to the internet it was like the man didn’t exist. She knew that he supposedly studied law at University of Texas, but never went past that. He took over for his father when he had a heart attack nearly two years ago. It was all fabricated bullshit about “Seresin Enterprises” and how they bought several blocks of casinos and clubs in both Vegas and San Diego. Apparently they had been on the FBI’s radar for sometime due to an underground boxing and prostitution ring. However, they claim no such truth about it. Which was something all mobsters said.

“Y/N, we gotta get headed to the airport. The Don is mad we held it off this long,” Paulo said walking into her room. Y/N sighed and walked into the room, leaving the warmth of the morning sun, “You got what you need?”

“Yeah, Payback took my bags to the car,” She answered and fixed herself in the mirror. She wore a simple skin tight black dress and paired it with matching black heels. Her tan skin looked sunkissed compared to the dark colors. She looked around at her barren apartment and frowned. She didn’t have a lot of stuff to begin with, but seeing it all boxed up made her feel kind of sad. Y/N nodded, and Gianni gently led her through the house and towards the waiting car.

“Wait,” Y/N said, and turned to face her brother, “Have you heard from Sophie? I haven’t heard from her since she left for Greece and I know she’d want to be a part of this wedding bullshit.”

Paulo looked at his two brothers, as if to tell them to keep their mouths shut. Narciso clenched his jaw and Gianni whistled, looking away from his little sister.

“I have not heard from Sophie,” Paulo answered, “But I’ll make sure someone reaches out to her.”

“She’d kill me if I got married and she wasn’t there for it,” Y/N smiled sadly and pulled her phone out, dialing the number again. Paulo ushered her into the car as Sophie’s phone went to voicemail again. Y/N sighed and left her yet another voicemail.

When Y/N arrived at the small private airport she noticed the black SUVs and armed men that were standing around. She would try and make a break for it if it weren’t for the military style weapons ready to fire at any moment. One would think that the president or some diplomat was about to land, but in reality, it was just some man from Italy. Although the Santiagos had slowly defeated their enemies over the years, some still lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The Don stepped out of his own vehicle when the Santiago siblings arrived. He looked pissed and Paulo fixed his suit as he walked over to talk to him. The patriarch stared his daughter down through the dark tinted glass of the SUV. She gulped and looked over at Payback who simply shrugged. He didn’t want to do this anymore than she wanted.

“Do you want to make things easy?” Payback asked and Y/N nodded, “Don’t try and fight every little thing he says.”

“You know me better than that Rueben,” Y/N smirked, and opened her car door. Her heels clicked across the ground as she walked up to her father. His stare sent a shiver down her spine, and it made her hold her head up higher, trying to show him that she was not afraid.

“No funny business, Y/N. You get on the plane here and off in San Diego. I hear you made the pilot take you to England or Paris, I will cut off the expenses for the wedding,” Rafael threatened Y/N. The girl rolled her eyes, “We’ve set up for you to be married to Jacob in four weeks.”

“Four fucking weeks?!” Y/N cursed and was met with another backhand across her face.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” The Don yelled, “This is why you couldn’t find a husband on your own.”

“Maybe if you would give me a damn chance!” Y/N yelled.

“Why? So you could find someone else to murder someone in our family?!”

Y/N clenched her jaw and looked away from him. She had heard it almost every year since her mother’s death, Rafael never let her live it down. What happened to her mother was one of the worst things that Y/N and her family could’ve gone through, but no one knew that Francisco would turn his anger towards Marie. Her brothers forgave her for what happened, but Rafael still held it over her head.

“Are none of you going to say anything!?” Y/N yelled at her brothers. They were all looking down at the ground, not bothering to jump in and say anything, “Spineless fucking idiots,” Y/N cursed and licked her lips, “I’ll see you in hell, Rafael.”

Rafael stood with his head up, his jaw clenched as he watched Y/N and Rueben walk up the plane steps. She sat down in a chair that was by the window. She watched as her brothers wouldn’t look at the plane, but the Don looked like he was ready to give an order to shoot it down. Y/N knew once the plane took off he would scold her brothers for telling her about Francisco, but the Don didn’t dare punish the boys in front of her or anyone else. People needed to know the boys were untouchable, but Y/N’s life was useless.

“Miss Santiago, can I get you anything to drink?” The flight attendant asked.

Y/N looked around the small jet and noted who the security was. There was, of course, Reuben and what looked to be like his new partner. Rafael hardly let Y/N go without two guards. The last one had been killed because the Don caught Y/N and him together. The new guy was all of 6 foot tall, with tan skin and a scar running down his face. His dark hair was gelled back and it looked like he had just bought a new black suit and dress shoes. Payback could see the glint in her eye and knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“Well, Rueben will have a Hangman IPA, I’ll take whatever red wine you have open, and a glass of whiskey for the Rookie,” Y/N smirked. Payback rolled his eyes, knowing Y/N’s plan like the back of his hand. This wasn’t the first flight he had taken with her and some new rookie, he had seen this episode before.

“We can’t just have one plane ride where you leave the Rookies be?” Reuben asked, and Y/N just smiled, “You know what’ll happen.”

“Then why not enjoy the fun while it lasts,” Y/N said as the flight attendant handed her the glass of wine, “Leave the bottle please, dear.”

“Laying it on thick,” Payback said, taking out his headphones.

“My life has been signed away, Reuben. These are my last moments of freedom until I have to go wait on some mobster hand and foot,” Y/N said and Rueben frowned. He glanced outside the window to see that the black SUVs that carried her family were gone.

“Fine,” He muttered, “Just know this one is on you.”

“Of course,” Y/N nodded, her eyes going over to the Rookie who was seemingly confused. She just gave him a wink, and settled back in her chair as the pilot told them to prepare for take off. Y/N closed her eyes, she wasn’t ever a fan of planes taking off, she always felt like she was going to fall right out of the sky.

Once the plane got up to cruising altitude, Y/N opened her eyes and looked at the Rookie, “Have you ever joined the Mile High club?”

“N-no, ma’am,” He said. He had a thick country accent, making him out to probably be from the South.

“Perfect,” Y/N smiled and stood up, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the private bedroom in the back of the plane. Payback groaned in annoyance, and pulled his earbuds out of his pocket. He settled them in his ears before going back to look through his magazine.

“They never learn.”

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

When the plane finally touched down in San Diego, California, the skyline was already starting to light up. Y/N smiled, noticing the familiar sight of the skyscrapers in the distance. Rueben followed behind her, straightening out his suit, and looking at The Rookie behind him who had a smirk plastered on his face. He felt like the king of the world having bodied the princess of the Italian Mob. The Rookie fixed his suit jacket and ran a hand over his gelled back hair.

“Good evening Miss Santiago, my name is Martin, and I’ll be handling your movement from the airport to the Seresin compound,” Martin was a middle aged man who had salt and pepper hair. Y/N held her hand out and Martin kissed the back of it. Y/N’s favorite pastime was making men bow to her like she was the Queen of England. In a way, Y/N was a queen, the mafia queen. If Y/N was into old men, Martin would be added as another name on her list.

“How was your flight? Everything went smoothly, I assume?” Martin asked, as he ushered Y/N towards the awaiting white Range Rover. Her father hated white cars. He said it made them stand out too much and put a bigger target on their backs.

“Yes the flight went very well,” Y/N said, and glanced over her shoulder at the Rookie. He smirked to himself, and fixed his suit jacket. He felt like he was the king of the word having bagged the Italian Mob king’s daughter. But that feeling was short lived as Rueben tightened the silencer on his gun, and then fired a shot into the Rookie’s skull.

“Clean this mess up,” Reuben said to the men standing by. Martin opened the door for Y/N, and she noticed a group of men picking up The Rookie’s body. She looked at Rueben who was tucking his gun back into the holster of his jacket.

“What?” Reuben asked, and Y/N nodded her head towards the body, “I told you not to.”

“Mood killer,” Y/N said and Rueben shook his head, shutting her door before getting into the front passenger seat.

The Seresin mansion sat in the neighborhood of Mission Hills, which was about ten minutes outside of San Diego. Y/N had only visited a handful of cities in the US, and had only been to California once. She understood why mobsters picked quite poor towns to set up shop. The busy hustle and bustle of the nearby ports could mask the terrors that the mobs did. Y/N eyed the prostitutes as they hung around the street corners in downtown San Diego.

“Those are someone's daughters,” Her mother used to say when they would pass a young female on the street in barely there clothing. Her mother would take them in, like stray cats, give them food and a place to bathe, before they would run off back to the streets they know.

“Everything is pretty close,” Martin explained as they drove through the busy streets, “It’s no European country side, but it suffices. Los Angeles is about two hours by car. San Fran is two hours by jet. Mr. Seresin has his own private jet. It’s one of the best ways to travel around. Sometimes, they’ll take a private train. Although, most of his work is done in Miramar or North Island.”

She knew that from the google search that she did. Jake owned a flight club and a bar in North Island called the Hard Deck. It was a quaint little place that attracted a lot of sailors to the area. It also just so happened to be where his brothel was set up. If there was anything Navy men loved more than causing a fight, it was getting pussy after a long trip out to sea.

“What is the legality of their business?” Y/N asked.

Payback looked at her in the rearview mirror, “You know what they do.”

“I can’t ask questions to get to know my future husband? I am going to be investing in this, so it is only fair that I know what he is doing.” She had a point and both Payback and Martin knew it. Y/N was smart and knew how to play her cards correctly, “Tell me what they do.”

“Mr. Seresin’s grandfather set up a very vast trading company back in New York during the twenties. The Seresins own and control almost 50% of the US trading ports. Seresin Trades is working on going global with the help of Mr. Santiago. Mr. Bob Floyd has been fast at work creating Seresin Industries, one of the fastest startup technology companies,” Martin said.

“A trading company,” Y/N tilted her head to the side, “How unique. And the brothels, fight rings, clubs, and casinos, those are just. . . extra amenities?”

“Athena,” Reuben warned.

Y/N held her hand up stopping Rueben, “Martin?”

Martin scoffed, “You act like your family is the greatest gift to God’s green earth.” As soon as the words left his lips, Martin regretted it.. Y/N glared at him through the rearview mirror and a cold sweat broke out down his back, “I apologize.”

“A little too late,” Reuben said and Y/N smirked.

If there was anyone who knew Y/N better than her own brothers, it was Rueben . He had become her personal bodyguard after Francisco attacked her and her mother’s death. Y/N had gotten too smart, she figured out how to run away from her guards. So Rafael hired Rueben , and the man watched her like a hawk. Y/N was never out of his sight. He had not only become her bodyguard, but also her closest confidant. She could tell him anything and everything.

Martin’s knuckles turned white with his grip on the steering wheel, as he turned on to a magnificent compound. The black gates rolled back as the SUV drove onto the marble driveway that was lined with black lamp posts. Buried behind the trees was almost like a castle. The Kiszka house stood tall, at least 3 stories, and had a complete wall of windows.

“Mr. Seresin likes windows. Makes him feel less caged in.” Martin said as he pulled up in front of the house. There was a large water fountain in the middle of the circle drive and Y/N could see water lilies floating around in the water.

“Lovely,” Y/N said. When the car came to a stop, her door was opened. She reached her hand out and a guard gently grabbed her hand, helping her out of the car. She smoothed down her dress as Rueben quickly rounded the car to her side, “Where is he?”

“I believe they are at the club, or getting ready to go,” Martin responded. The glass front door opened and an older woman stepped out of the house.

“Welcome Miss Santiago,” She introduced herself, and bowed her head softly,“I am Emile, I will be your personal attendant. Do you care for a glass of champagne, maybe even wine?”

Y/N took a step into the house, and looked around the foyer. It had high ceilings that opened into a glass grand staircase. Everything was red and white, giving the entrance a cold yet warm feeling. The living room was open, and had white leather couches and a fluffy black rug on the floor. Hanging above a roaring fireplace was a picture of a young man in a black suit. She stood in front of the picture, the man’s green eyes were enticing and almost as if they were locking her in a trance. She looked away at the sound of the front door opening and Rueben walking in.

“I’ll take a bottle of white,” Y/N said to Emile, “And please take the bottle to my room. Oh! And if you would, can you draw me a bath? I don’t like the feeling of blood on my hands.”

Rueben scoffed, “You’re one to talk.” She could see a smudge of blood on his collar, more than likely from killing Martin before he walked into the house.

“Yes, Miss,” Emile nodded and scurried off towards the kitchen. Y/N stepped farther into the house surveying everything. She walked over to a set of windows and glass sliding doors. She looked over the backyard, an infinity pool and giant garden that looked daunting at night, caught her eye. Y/N made a note of wanting to test the water in the pool at some point tonight.

“He would like you to come to the office,” A guard said, standing in the doorway of the living room.

Y/N turned around to see about ten or so men standing in the living room, all of them wearing black suits and ties.

“No,” Y/N responded, a smirk on her lips. Her eyes not leaving the reflecting water of the pool, and kicked off her heels. She reached for the zipper of her dress and undid it. Payback also knew this tactic, and rolled his eyes. Y/N let the sleeves of her dress fall down her shoulders, and shrugged the dress off, wearing absolutely nothing underneath. All the men standing around her tried to avert their eyes the best they could, but failed miserably.

“I want a bath first,” She said.

“I can’t let you do that,” The guard responded.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to him, “Do I turn you on?”

“I-I. . . Mr. Seresin had strict instructions-”

“I bet these pants are feeling pretty strict,” She let her hand shamelessly trail up and down his body, before landing over the clothed hard-on

“Please,” The guard practically begged. Y/N smirked as she gently palmed him, “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Y/N challenged. Before the guard could respond another gunshot rang through the house. Y/N shrieked as the guard’s body buckled and she moved out of the way to let him fall. She looked over at a tall man with curly hair, holding a gun out.

“That’s what I’m gonna do about it,” The gun wielding man said. He tucked the gun back into the waistband of his black dress pants. He was tall with beautiful brown eyes with scars on his face and neck. Y/N smirked and walked over to him, but he held his hand out, “Don’t think about it. Let’s fucking go.”

Y/N opened her mouth but squealed as he threw her naked body over his shoulder, “Hey! Put me down!” She yelled, hitting his back. The man tightened his grip on her body so he wouldn’t drop her as she kicked and squirmed in his arms, “Payback!”

Reuben took a step forward to try and intervene but was cut off by guards standing in front of him, “Just keep your mouth shut!”

Y/N felt a shiver run down her body, “I’ll fucking kill you,” She threatened the man.

“I’d like to see you try,” The man said and tossed her down onto a cold leather chair, “Wait here, don’t fucking move.”

Y/N looked around the office, seeing more pictures of the man from the living room. There was a bookshelf with tons of old leather books with gold writing. Y/N narrowed her eyes, reading the titles on the side, most of them were in Latin, but she could understand that they were law books. There was a large dark oak desk in front of her, which must belong to her future husband. On the wall behind the desk were various diplomas from colleges that he must’ve gone to.

He’s distinguished, Y/N thought to herself, and smart.

Y/N almost got out of her chair to go explore more things around his desk, when she heard the clicking of fancy dress shoes coming down the hall. She sucked in a breath as the door opened, and a beautiful blonde man with green eyes stood in the doorway. He was wearing all black, with his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He forewent the tie, and Y/N could see he was wearing a thin gold chain around his neck.

“You couldn’t give her the dignity to walk in here by herself? With her clothes on?” The blonde man asked.

“She didn’t want to,” The man with the gun shrugged and looked over at a man who was wearing a big pair of glasses, with a smirk, “We lost Martin and Dominick.”

“Fucking idiots,” The blonde cursed, “Welcome Y/N, I’m Jake, your new husband.” He held his arms out as if he were presenting some great prize. Y/N looked him up and down, he looked like the human version of Adonis, “My beauty stunned you into silence. It happens, sweetheart. But thank you for finally joining us.”

Y/N scoffed, “You basically bought me from my father to help your little group here get up and running.”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself sweetheart. You weren’t the pick of the crop I wanted,” Jake said, but then shrugged, “No offense.”

“Offense taken,” Y/N said, “What? I’m not good enough for you? You prefer underaged prostitute pussy instead? I bet, he-” She said pointing at the man with large glasses, “Would you like a taste?”

“Not my type either,” He said, “I like my pussy tight and silent.”

Jake chuckled and Y/N clenched her jaw. He walked towards her, his green eyes looking her up and down as if he were examining her. She felt like she was under a microscope and wanted to hide away. She was suddenly very aware that she was sitting naked in front of three guys who could easily kill her, and had no idea where Rueben was.

“Where are your clothes?” Jake asked.

“I like being naked,” Y/N smirked, sitting back in the chair, exposing more of her body. Jake looked like he was about to murder everyone in the room. He looked from her face to her chest, his eyes seemingly assessing every millimeter of skin, down her stomach and to her legs, which were crossed hiding her modesty. Y/N caught the wandering eyes of the men behind Jake, and slowly uncrossed her legs, opening them slightly. That was the final straw for Jake, as he moved quickly, snatching her up by her chin.

“I was told I was getting a mafia queen,” Jake spat, holding her throat tightly, “We got rules, sweetheart, and you’re going to listen to them, got it? Or I swear to god, I’ll fucking sell you for whatever your worth to the highest bidder. I’m sure these-” He said, tracing his fingers between her breasts, his knuckles brushing against the soft mound of skin, “could get me a pretty penny. Of course, the face is a little fucked up.”

Y/N clenched her jaw at the mention of the scar that ran down her face. Her eye socket had to be repaired and left a permanent scar, a constant reminder of what Francisco had done to her. It was easy for her to hide the other scars on her body, that one, was out in the open for everyone to see. Her mother told her to not hide what he did, to embrace it.

“Understand me?” Jake asked and Y/N nodded. He released her chin.

“Asshole,” Y/N said, before spitting in his face. Jake clenched his jaw, and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back to look up at him.

“Don’t fucking test me, sweetheart,” Jake seethed, “I won’t hesitate to throw you down on the pew, I don’t give a fuck who your daddy is. Don’t fuck with me, doll.” Y/N trembled and nodded. Jake picked up her body and put her down on the wooden chair, harshly. Her ass still stung a bit from where the curly haired man had thrown her down earlier.

“If you’re done being a brat, I’d like to introduce you to my right hand men. The one that brought you in here was Rooster, he’s in charge of security. You need to go somewhere, you take it up with him. If he tells you ‘no’ you don’t fucking argue. This is Bob,” Jake said, pointing to the man with the glasses, “He’s intelligence. Don’t try to fucking go somewhere or call someone or do something fucking stupid cause he’ll find out about it and I’ll kill you.”

“And what do you do?” Y/N asked.

Jake smiled, “I’m the Hangman. I am the reason this whole place ruins and operates. The face of the family and the company.”

“Bob would’ve made a cuter face,” Y/N said and looked at the man. Bob couldn’t help but chuckle, but Jake quickly shot him a glare. Y/N sent him a wink though, which made his ears turn red.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ve got a couple rules. One, don’t be in my way or anyone else's way. Two, don’t fucking speak to me unless you are spoken too. And three, don’t piss me off. If you follow those three rules. . . I don’t see why this relationship won’t work out great.”

“Because you’re a fucking psychopathic murderer.”

“Says the one who’s gotten three men killed in your first two hours of being here,” Jake said.

Y/N smiled, “You say that?”

Jake leaned his hands on either side of the chair she was sitting on. She could smell is cologne and see a thin scar by his eyebrow, “I see everything,” He spoke softly, “Go fucking clean yourself off. I don’t want to see your face until tomorrow.” Jake said and turned to walk out of the office, “Actually, I don’t want to see your face at all, unless I fucking ask to see you, which I probably won’t. I don’t want you here any less than you actually want to be here. If I knew you were a part of the expansion gun deal we made, I would’ve never fucking made it.”

Y/N tried to not let his words sting. She had heard worse from her father, but there was something about hearing it from someone else. Y/N turned her head to the side as Jake and the boys left the office with a slam of the door. As soon as the door shut, she let the tears roll down her face. She waited a minute before she got up from the wooden chair and walked out of the office. She was suddenly very aware that she was stark naked in a mobster’s house.

She moved softly as she walked down the hallway, trying to avoid the eyes of the workers in the house. Y/N looked up and noticed Emile walking towards her with a robe. The older woman smiled softly at her and handed her the robe. Y/N nodded and wrapped it tightly around her body. Emile gently wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, guiding her over to the grand staircase and up to the second floor.

“Mr. Jacob and the boys went out for the night,” Emile said. She had a heavy french accent that reminded Y/N of some of the older maids back home at her father’s mansion, “I ran a bath and had some of the other guards bring your belongings into your room. Any specific way to put your clothing away?”

Y/N shook her head, “I can get that tomorrow when the rest of my things arrive. Thank you, Emile.”

“You are very welcome, Miss,” Emile said, nodding her head as they stood outside one of the bedrooms, “The master bedroom,” Emile said, pushing open two wooden doors. Y/N’s jaw dropped at the sight of the bedroom. It was white with red accents that reminded her of the suit that Jake wore. Hanging above a california king bed was a picture of the fucker himself. Y/N scoffed, of course, he had a picture of himself hanging above the bed, “Mr. Jacob doesn’t stay here. He prefers a bed on the third floor with his brothers.”

“They are all very close?” Y/N asked and Emile nodded.

“Very close. They all served together in the Navy.”

Now that was one thing the internet did not tell Y/N. That meant one of two things, they never served long enough to make an impact, or the Navy was trying hard to keep them all a secret. Whatever the reason was, Y/N was going to find out more about it.

Y/N walked over and ran her hands on the satin bed sheets. They were soft and still smelled like the packaging. The room had an overall cold feeling to it, like no one had ever stayed in the room. Y/N could tell that the paint on the walls wasn’t the original colors. She could see the slight difference in paint colors as the walls met at the ceiling. She ran her hands over the footboard of the bed, humming to herself as she did.

“Is that tune from ‘Annie’?” Emile asked, and Y/N lifted her head, smiling.

“It is.”

When Y/N was little, before she knew most about what her family did for a living, she used to play around like she was the little Orphan Annie first coming to Daddy Warbucks’ house. She used to play the song ‘I Think I’m Gonna Like it Here’ while running up and down the halls with her mother, making the butlers and the maids sing along with her. She did it at every house she moved into, it was one of the good memories she had with her mother.

Y/N paused and looked at the picture above the bed, and then at Emile, “When will they be back?”

“Oh, they stay out very late,” Emile answered, “I see them leave at night and stumble around the next morning with hangovers.” She smiled and sighed, “Your bath is waiting for you, dear. Any questions, don’t be scared to ask.”

“Thank you.” “They aren’t all monsters,” Emile said, “Just a little rough around the edges. You know what they say, ‘only the good die young’.”

@cherrycola27 @seresinsbabe @violyn20 @materialgirl01 @bradleybeachbabe @a-reader-and-a-writer @lt-spork @topnerd03 @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @bioodforbiood @topguncultleader @ma-fraise @abaker74 @double-j @cm27078 @thedroneranger @khaylin27 @mak-32 @unhinged-btch @wittywhispers @theliterarybeldam @bloosomjoon @chxcxlate-cxxkies @luckyladycreator2 @wellshit6 @harper1666 @phoenix1388 @footprintsinthesxnd @dempy @emma8895eb @bonitanightmxres @love2write2626 @bobbyonboard @some-lovely-day @thenewdaysalreadyhere @cassiemitchellslibrary @ilymoonie @morgensternsblog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rintheemolion @tallrock35 @adoringsebstan @xoxabs88xox

TAG LIST IS FULL DO NOT ASK TO BE TAGGED

if you want me to add the playlist link lmk!

322 notes · View notes

arcoirisdaspalavras · 2 months

Text

É tão engraçado.

Ver você me usando.

Como último recurso.

Dessa vez sem a velha caneta tinteira preta.

Nem o isqueiro para me jogar fora.

Nem aquele teclado fingindo máquina de escrever.

Sem caderno morto e cheio de remorso.

...

Você está mais velho.

Como alguém que escreve com autoridade.

Mas tosse como se estivesse velho e doente.

Para jogar para fora tudo que acumulou.

Sentar e culpar o autismo seria o primeiro ato.

Mas vejo você levantando agora.

Trilhando os próximos passos inteiros.

Com estratégia e inteligência que só nós temos.

Não o via assim desde a sua primeira palavra.

...

Mas é cômico.

Pois não há divisibilidade.

A criança, o adulto e o adolescente.

Tudo é sobre nós.

Um narciso que nasce e morre aqui.

Quando manifesta sua necessidade, aparece

Dom de se contar ainda que esteja perdido.

Poderia agora pegar a faca e empunhar sua vontade.

Mas não o faz.

Por saber que não precisa.

Tão pouco precisa agora dos protocolos.

Esses que você não fala.

O potencial é indescritível quando somado.

E todos os fatores aumentam a intensidade de tudo.

Pega então em minhas mãos.

Que tecem apenas a tradução entre você e o mundo.

O espectro te deixou calado.

Como um cão tolerado por não latir.

Há tantos anos esperava esse momento.

Onde a colheira não te impediria.

Nem o medo impediu seu andar.

...

A saída da primeira bolha causou espanto.

Parou no hospital e a primeira coisa que gritou era que queria falar pessoalmente com Clarice Lispector.

Todos do hospital riram.

Agora adulto, o vejo calmo e sereno.

Sem o peso de existir.

E mesmo com tudo caindo, me orgulho de tudo isso.

Eu diria antes que está implodindo e suplicando pela morte,

Como se pudesse controlar o tempo e espaço.

Mas discordo de mim.

...

Em três meses flexibilizou tudo que podia.

Que falta de coragem não há nada.

Pegou então a caneta que existe em mim.

Ainda que imaterialmente.

Agora me usa como última esperança.

Essa que você nunca perdeu.

Não importa quantos heterônimos.

Você não é Fernando Pessoa.

Nem adianta carta aos mortos que tanto lamenta.

Pega então em mim.

Calmamente trilha o destino como quem guia um cego.

Que em vez de colocar culpa no mundo,

Agora coloca em cima dos ombros.

Mas aprendeu a deixar leve.

Como um equilibrista raquítico.

Pega então todo ódio desenfreado e jogou em única direção.

....

Não conheço mais aquela criança inocente.

Nem aquele grito sem esperança.

Nem aquele sangue na parede do quarto.

Vejo alguém aprendendo a aprender.

Ato mais puro e objetivo que há de ser.

Você então pega em mim no metrô.

No ônibus,

Na rua deserta.

E enquanto segura suas próprias mãos.

Lembrou de mim quando me viu naquela capa.

Respirou fundo e continuou.

...

Seu corpo está doente.

Mas não lhe darei rosas no seu funeral.

Em vez disso,

Pegarei então os girassóis que ela te deu.

Daquela força toda, tirarei a cadaverina.

Que só reste flor agora.

Você tem todas as armas nas mãos.

...

E quando convencer do contrário,

Desligarei teu corpo e assumirei como aquela criança.

Mesmo não sabendo o que fazer com tudo isso.

Nos tornamos complexos.

Não sou Charlie.

Você não é Roberto.

É singularidade onipresente.

...

Pegarei minhas mãos pequenas nas suas,

Peço então que lute pelo que precisamos.

Sem fugir das indiferenças.

Você trocará o hiperfoco.

E quando voltar para São Paulo,

Alice estará morta.

Estaremos então no mesmo lugar.

Onde tudo isso se deu.

Desses últimos vestígios de inteligência.

...

Pego agora com mãos de adolescente ferida,

E junto as tuas. Pois essas cicatrizes foram batalhas de antes.

Ignore os arranhados e as tentativas falhas de aborto.

Pego então junto ao manche.

Deixando o sangue dos cortes sobre eles.

Aeronave essa que precisamos aprender a pilotar.

Conduziremos juntos o destino de tudo isso.

...

Agora junto todas as nossas mãos em único desejo.

Fecho os olhos de todas as outras visões.

Acalmo os pensamentos que residem ainda.

Voltemos.

Agora mais calmos,

Como adulto, criança e adolescente juntos.

Vamos de novo.

Refazendo o planejamento de vôo.

Sem fugir do que precisa.

Orgulho esse que não se tem pressa.

...

Quando descobrir quem eu sou,

Não chore.

Dos mesmos objetivos que já trilhou e desiludiu.

Aqueles versos que escreveu e jogou na lixeira.

Os livros quase prontos que imprimiu e rasgou.

Sou resultado vivo de tudo que viveu.

Apenas para lembrar da coragem das estrelas.

Essas que ainda só a hora decidirá.

@robertocpaes

0 notes

cadinhoworld · 4 months

Text

Bom dia, meus ego superego e id. psicotecnicos do detran, testes de Rorschach, inconscientes metapsicológicos, vontade de potência, Tanatos e Eros, narcisos das redes sociais, desvios histriônicos, otelos, Iagos, bentinhos, armand duval, marquesa de merteuill e Paulo Honório das intrigas palacianas

0 notes

romario-de-souza-faria · 5 months

Text

youtube

Há 20 anos Romário enfrentava o Santos e deixou de marcar um dos gols mais belos da sua carreira...

Uma virada arrasadora, com três gols marcados no intervalo de seis minutos, garantiu a importante vitória do Santos sobre o Fluminense, por 3 a 1, neste domingo, na Vila Belmiro, pelo Brasileiro-2003.

Para o Santos, mais importante do que o resultado, foi a manutenção do sonho do bicampeonato brasileiro. O Santos chegou aos 85 pontos, seis a menos do que o Cruzeiro, que venceu o Paraná, também neste domingo.

Restam apenas três rodadas da competição. Os santistas, além de vencer as partidas que restam, precisam torcer por seguidos tropeços do adversário para atingir o objetivo.

Já o Fluminense, com 46 pontos, vai lutar nas próximas rodadas contra o rebaixamento.

O jogo

O problema da equipe do técnico Emerson Leão foi enfrentar uma equipe precisando de pontos para fugir do rebaixamento.

Aproveitando o apoio da torcida, o Santos começou no ataque. Aos 4min, Diego recebeu um ótimo passe dentro da área adversária, mas pegou mal na bola, que foi para fora.

O Fluminense mostrou que não iria se limitar a ficar na defesa e também criou ótimas oportunidades na etapa inicial. Aos 6min, o zagueiro César cabeceou firme e exigiu grande defesa de Júlio Sérgio.

O Santos respondeu aos 22min, com Robinho, que, dentro da área, acertou um chute forte, que passou raspando o travessão do Fluminense.

Aproveitando as falhas da defesa do Santos, o time do Rio desperdiçou duas chances para abrir o marcador.

Aos 33min, Marcelo recebeu a bola dentro da área e chutou em cima de Júlio Sérgio; aos 41min, Romário se livrou de Alex e Júlio Sérgio, mas chutou para fora com o gol vazio.

Os primeiros minutos da etapa final foram emocionantes. Logo aos 3min, Esquerdinha acertou um lindo chute de fora da área, de primeira, e colocou o Fluminense em vantagem.

O gol serviu para lembrar os jogadores santistas que a disputa pelo título continuava aberta. Aos 6min, Fabiano ajeitou de cabeça um cruzamento da direita e Diego empatou chutando forte, no canto.

Dois minutos depois, o zagueiro Alex completou um cruzamento da esquerda feito por Léo e desempatou. Aos 12min, foi a vez de Fabiano marcar de cabeça e garantir o terceiro gol santista.

O Fluminense se abateu com os gols do adversário, enquanto o Santos continuou no ataque em busca do quarto gol, mas parou nas boas defesas do goleiro Kléber.

O Fluminense volta a jogar no sábado, contra o São Caetano, no Rio. O adversário do Santos, no próximo domingo (dia 30), será o Goiás, em Goiânia. Paulo Almeida e Robinho receberam o terceiro cartão amarelo e não enfrentam os goianos.

SANTOS Júlio Sérgio; Reginaldo Araújo, Alex, Narciso (Sílvio) e Léo; Paulo Almeida (Daniel), Renato, Elano (Jerri) e Diego; Robinho e Fabiano. Técnico: Emerson Leão

FLUMINENSE Kléber; Jancarlos, César, Rodolfo e Júnior César; Marcão, Sidney, Esquerdinha (Alex Oliveira) e Carlos Alberto (Tiago); Marcelo e Romário (Josafá). Técnico: Renato Gaúcho

Local: estádio da Vila Belmiro, Santos

Juiz: Jamir Carlos Garcez (DF)

Cartões amarelos: Jancarlos, Paulo Almeida, Robinho e Alex

Gols: Esquerdinha, aos 3min, Diego, aos 6min, Alex aos 8min, e Fabiano, 12min da etapa final

0 notes

gazeta24br · 5 months

Text

CABARÉ CHINELO conta o outro lado da história das prostitutas que viveram no período da belle époque para a cidade de Manaus. Inspirada na pesquisa do historiador Narciso Freitas, a montagem é assinada pelo Ateliê 23, companhia amazonense que celebra dez anos de atuação, em parceria com a cia de teatro argentina García Sathicq. Em julho deste ano, a companhia apresentou a produção no Sesc Pinheiros e no Festival Internacional de Teatro de São José do Rio Preto. Todas as sessões com ingressos esgotados. O espetáculo retorna a São Paulo para três únicas apresentações no Teatro B32, de 17 a 19 de novembro. A história não contada nos livros ganha espaço em CABARÉ CHINELO 100 anos depois de seus acontecimentos. A belle époque manauara esconde o sangue de mulheres prostituídas em um grande esquema de tráfico internacional e sexual no início do século XX. A obra traz a história de Mulata, Balbina, Antonieta, Soulanger, Felícia, Laura, Joana, Luiza, Enedina, Sarah, Maria e Gaivota, que cantam suas vidas, pondo em cena verdades, até então, desconhecidas, levando o público uma imersão entre 1900 e 1920, com registros históricos por meio de recortes dos jornais da época. “Escolhemos quatro momentos para os recortes de jornais de verdade, material presente no programa do espetáculo e disponível em QR Code para a plateia”, destaca Taciano Soares, diretor do Ateliê 23, que interpreta o Kafter. “Nessas cenas, o público é convidado a abrir o arquivo e ler junto o que foi narrado no jornal da época”. O QUE FOI O CABARÉ CHINELO? Durante o período da belle époque, nas dependências do suntuoso Hotel Cassina existiu um cabaré. O lugar serviu como base para o desenvolvimento da cidade porque reunia os políticos e os poderosos da época. Como o principal produto que era extraído naquela época era o látex, principal elemento da borracha, isto deu nome ao “chinelo” e consequentemente ao Cabaré. Essa é a história que ouvimos e lemos nos livros narrados que chegam ao acesso de grande parte da população. Quando o Ateliê 23 conheceu o pesquisador de mestrado em história da Universidade Federal do Amazonas, Narciso Freitas, teve acesso às verdades por trás dessa história. As mulheres conhecidas como prostitutas que chegavam a Manaus vinda de outras partes do mundo eram, na verdade, traficadas sexualmente, visto que muitas delas não tinham consciência de que estavam vindo à cidade para exercer esse papel, sem seu consentimento. Com isso revelou-se a necessidade em denunciar esta realidade, bem como trazer essas vozes ao palco, metaforicamente, para compartilhar como mulheres foram consideradas desde o período áureo da borracha em Manaus e como isso reverbera até os dias atuais acerca do machismo e a misoginia que se apresenta de forma enraizada na sociedade atual. O projeto, em parceria com a companhia de teatro argentina García Sathicq, tem apoio do Governo do Amazonas, por meio da Secretaria de Cultura e Economia Criativa, Universidade do Estado do Amazonas (UEA) e Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado do Amazonas (Fapeam), além da Fundação Nacional de Artes (Funarte) e Fondo de Ayudas para las Artes Escénicas Iberoamericanas – IBERESCENA. Hamyle Nobre Rudá Marques Ateliê 23 apresenta ‘Cabaré Chinelo’ Direção: Taciano Soares Com: Vivian Oliveira, Sarah Margarido, Andira Angeli, Julia Kahane, Thayná Liartes, Fernanda Seixas, Daphne Pompeu, Daniely Peinado, Vanja Poty, Ana Oliveira, Bruna Pollari, Allícia Castro, Taciano Soares e Eric Lima, além dos músicos Yago Reis, Guilherme Bonates e Stivisson Menezes. Duração: 130 minutos. Classificação: 18 anos Temporada: 17/11 - 20h 18/11 - 18h 19/11 - 19h Ingressos: R$ 80 | R$ 40 meia Ingressos online : https://teatrob32.com.br/cabare-chinelo/ Bilheteria: terça a sexta (14h às 18h) Em dias de espetáculos abre 1h antes da sessão Teatro B32 | 490 lugares Avenida Brigadeiro Faria Lima, 3.732 - Itaim Bibi Estacionamento, com valet: Rua Lício Nogueira, 92, Itaim Bibi www.teatrob32.com.br

FICHA TÉCNICA Direção: Taciano Soares Co-direção: Jazmín García Sathicq Dramaturgia: Eric Lima e Taciano Soares Elenco: Allícia Castro / Ana Oliveira / Andira Angeli / Bruna Pollari / Daniely Peinado / Daphne Pompeu / Eric Lima / Fernanda Seixas / Julia Kahane / Sarah Margarido / Taciano Soares, Thayná Liartes / Vanja Poty / Vivian Oliveira Stand-in’s: Amanda Magaiver / Grazi Dias / Lely Costa / Naomi Tokutomi Direção Musical e Coreografia: Eric Lima Banda e Arranjos: Guilherme Bonates / Stivisson Menezes / Yago Reis Assistência de direção: Carol Santa Ana / Eric Lima Assistência Musical: Guilherme Bonates / Sarah Margarido Preparação corporal: Viviane Palandi Preparação vocal: Krishna Pennutt Cenografia: Juca Di Souza Figurino: Melissa Maia Iluminação: Tabbatha Melo Operação de luz: Lore Cavalcanti Bilheteria e técnica de palco: Titto Silva Pesquisa histórica: Narciso Freitas Fotografia e vídeo: Hamyle Nobre / Rudá Marques Identidade visual: Eric Lima Produção: Ateliê 23 Sobre o Ateliê 23 Em 2023, a companhia amazonense celebra dez anos de atuação. Com sede no Centro de Manaus desde março de 2015, na Rua Tapajós, 166, o Ateliê 23 tem 30 espetáculos, cinco shows e quatro obras audiovisuais no repertório. A principal característica do grupo é trabalhar com histórias reais, objeto da tese de Doutorado “Bionarrativas Cênicas: Dispositivos de Comoção em Obras do Ateliê 23”, defendida pelo diretor Taciano Soares na Universidade Federal da Bahia. Entre obras de sucessos de público e crítica estão “Helena”, selecionado para a mostra a_ponte: cena do teatro universitário do Itaú Cultural e indicado ao Prêmio Brasil Musical; “da Silva” e “Ensaio de Despedida”, indicados para o projeto Palco Giratório, do Sesc; “Vacas Bravas” e “Persona – Face Um”. Este último colocou em pauta o tema transfobia e ficou um ano e meio em cartaz. Prêmios No 17º Festival de Teatro da Amazônia, realizado neste mês, o “Cabaré Chinelo” conquistou três prêmios: “Melhor Espetáculo”, “Direção” para Taciano Soares e “Melhor Figurino” para Melissa Maia. O espetáculo foi indicado ainda nas categorias “Melhor Atriz”, com Vivian Oliveira, “Melhor Ator” e “Trilha Sonora”, com Eric Lima. A produção concorre no 22º Anual Prêmio Cenym de Teatro Nacional, da Academia de Artes no Teatro do Brasil, como "Melhor Elenco", "Melhor Figurino" e "Melhor Companhia". O resultado vai ser divulgado no dia 21 de novembro, em cerimônia de premiação. Neste ano, o Ateliê 23 também conquistou o prêmio de melhor atuação nacional no 8º Festival Internacional de Cinema da Diversidade Sexual e de Gênero de Goiás, com a personagem Belinho, vivido por Taciano Soares no filme “A Bela é Poc”, primeiro curta do grupo. Desde a estreia, em outubro de 2021, no Teatro Amazonas, o curta “A Bela é Poc” tem circulado por festivais, como Circuito Penedo de Cinema, em Alagoas; edição de 2022 do Festival de Cinema da Amazônia – Olhar do Norte, na capital amazonense; Shorts México, um dos maiores festivais de curtas-metragens da América Latina; e KASHISH Mumbai International Queer Film Festival, evento anual LGBT que acontece em Mumbai, na Índia. O filme, que faz parte de um projeto que inclui o clipe “Glowria” e a videodança “Azul”, participou ainda da “Expedição Cultural”, do Governo do Amazonas por meio da Secretaria de Estado de Cultura e Economia Criativa, e foi exibido em nove cidades do interior. Mais informações e programação completa do Ateliê 23 em atelie23.com e pelo Instagram (@atelie23).

0 notes

pirapopnoticias · 7 months

Link

#falecimento #setembro

0 notes

jazzlr1 · 8 months

Text

Latin American Designers Shine: Highlights from Guatemala’s Semana de la Moda

In recent times, it seems as though every city boasts its own fashion week. Given the rising prominence of Latin American talent, such as Raul Lopez and Willy Chavarria, who made a splash at New York Fashion Week. It also followed in the footsteps of renowned Latin fashion designers like Oscar de la Renta, Gabriela Hearst, Silvia Tcherassi, and Narciso Rodriguez. Additionally Sao Paulo, Mexico City, and Latin Fashion Week during New York Fashion Week are just a few examples of the many fashion weeks. Additionally, the Fashion Designers of Latin America, a collective of designers, has emerged.

Semana de la Moda Guatemala: A Fusion of Latin American Creativity

Guatemala’s fashion week, known as Semana de la Moda Guatemala, recently concluded in Guatemala City, bringing together designers from eight Latin American countries – including Nicaragua, El Salvador, and Colombia – for 24 runway shows. Local designers took center stage in the runway shows, showcasing their unique talents.

Gaitán’s Resort Collection: Futuristic Glamour in Silver

Mariandree Gaitán, a Guatemalan fashion designer, focused on shiny, silver party attire in her new resort collection, aiming to accentuate the natural beauty of women. The collection features silver pants, dresses, and tops, reflecting the futuristic spirit and glamor of 2023.

Nicteel by Owana Lima: Revitalizing Traditional Textiles with a Golden Touch

Nicteel by Owana Lima spotlights Guatemala’s renowned artisan, patterned textiles that capture the essence of the country’s customs and culture. Additionally Lima updates these traditional fabrics for everyday use, incorporating button-up shirts, crop tops, and dramatic architectural cuts in her latest collection, which prominently features the color gold.

NoName: Jonathan Morales’ Edgy ‘Street Couture’ Takes Center Stage

NoName, a brand created by Mexican designer Jonathan Morales, showcased cutouts as a major trend at Guatemala’s fashion week. Additionally, Morales deviates from the typical Latin American fashion with his bold designs that characterize “street couture,” a blend of high and low, edgy, and traditional styles.

La Roja by Misha: Sustainable Chic with Upcycled Plastic Handbags

La Roja by Misha, founded by Michelle Townson, is known for upcycling plastic into high-fashion handbags. Sustainability is a key focus, with all bags handmade by Guatemalan artisans. Townson’s latest collection features bold blue bags and flower-patterned totes.

Lanificio Di Livenza: Bespoke Elegance in Menswear

Lanificio Di Livenza, a menswear designer, specializes in classy, bespoke tailoring. The brand showcased custom tuxedos, pinstripe suits, and business wear. With Guatemalan model Rodrigo Ovando taking center stage on the runway. 33:3 by Linda Liz, created by Costa Rican designer Linda Liz, is a size-inclusive athleisure brand catering to women of all sizes. Liz’s latest collection comprises futuristic, modular shapes and features turquoise, peach tones, and jean-hued items.

Isabella Springmühl Tejada: Trailblazing Designer Embraces Inclusivity and Tradition

Isabella Springmühl Tejada, the first fashion designer with Down syndrome, has become one of Guatemala’s most recognized designers. Her inclusive fashion line uses traditional Guatemalan textiles to create jean jacket-like coats, jackets, and shawls that are colorful and fun.

Giannina Azar: Sparkling Creations for the Red Carpet and Beyond

Dominican Lebanese designer Giannina Azar is celebrated for her glittery gowns, including the chandelier dress. It was worn by celebrities like Beyoncé, Jennifer Lopez, and Gwen Stefani, her new Chandelier Collection in red-carpet-ready gala nights.Read More

0 notes

nncosta · 1 year

Text

André Narciso, árbitro da AF Setúbal, nomeado para apitar o Benfica-Vitória SC

André Narciso, árbitro da AF Setúbal, foi nomeado pelo Conselho de Arbitragem da Federação Portuguesa de Futebol para apitar o Benfica-Vitória SC, jogo da 25.ª jornada da Liga Bwin, às 18h00 de sábado, 18 de março, no Estádio da Luz. O juiz do encontro vai ter Paulo Brás e Hugo Coimbra como assistentes e Miguel Nogueira no papel de quarto árbitro. O videoárbitro (VAR) será Hélder Malheiro, e o…

View On WordPress

#Futebol

0 notes

poesia-marginow · 1 year

Text

Participantes inscritos devem ser avaliados por meio de duas etapas; confira A Escola Técnica Estadual Engenheiro Agrônomo Narciso de Medeiros- ETEC, em Iguape no Estado de São Paulo, abre cinco Processos Seletivos para a formação de cadastro reserva no cargo de Professor de Ensino Médio e Técnico. As áreas estão distribuídas entre os seguintes editais: Edital nº 089/27/2022: Banco de Dados II- Desenvolvimento de Sistemas;Edital nº 089/28/2022: Sistemas Embarcados- Desenvolvimento de Sistemas;Edital nº 089/29/2022: Programação de Aplicativos Mobile I- Desenvolvimento de Sistemas Integrado ao Ensino Médio;Edital nº 089/30/2022: Programação Web II - Desenvolvimento de Sistemas Integrado ao Ensino Médio;Edital nº 089/31/2022: Banco de Dados II - Desenvolvimento de Sistemas Integrado ao Ensino Médio.A fim de atuar nos cargos, é necessário que o candidato tenha idade mínima de 18 anos, esteja em dia com as obrigações eleitorais, e militares quando do sexo masculino, possua licenciatura e equivalente acompanhado de diploma de curso de bacharelado ou de tecnologia de nível superior, dentre outros. O valor da hora-aula a ser recebido será de R$ 20,19. As inscrições devem ser realizadas via site do Centro Paula Sousa, a partir do dia 21 de novembro de 2022 até às 23h59 de 5 de dezembro de 2022. Da Seleção Os candidatos serão avaliados em exame de memorial circunstanciado e prova de métodos pedagógicos, de caráter eliminatório e classificatório. Para mais informações acesse os editais completos em nosso site. EDITAL DE ABERTURA Nº 089/27/2022 EDITAL DE ABERTURA Nº 089/28/2022 PCI Concursos

0 notes

lisboabeat · 1 year

Text

#ThisWeek

21.11.22 COLLECT VIRGILIO

22.11.22 COLLECT NARCISO (Dj Set)

23.11.22 COLLECT BEATS SESSÃO DA TARDE

23.11.22 LOUNGE DJ AAGUILAA

23.11.22 MUSICBOX MYKKI BLANCO - CONCERTO

Lamentamos informar sobre o cancelamento do concerto de Mykki Blanco agendado para o dia 23 de novembro na Musicbox.

O comunicado de Mykki Blanco:"Due to the increasing stress, financial and psychological strain of touring in the post Covid music industry, I Mykki Blanco am needing to cancel the remainder of my tour to focus on my mental health. I am grateful to my fans for your support and I appreciate your care and concern. I must prioritize my health as I cannot continue to perform concerts if I am not well. I will be back as soon as I can to give you the best concert possible."

DIDI + YURI RIOS HORÁRIO: 00:00

Di Candido aka DIDI, corpe afrocúir em trânsito por Brasil, UK e Portugal, que trabalha, persiste e resiste por meio da investigação, produção cultural e performance como DJ, cantor e artista visual/multidisciplinar. Idealizadores da unidade criativa em forma de festa Bee. The United Kingdom of Beeshas (bee_lx) nas Damas, como uma das primeiras festas que trouxeram #blackqueermagic para o centro de Lisboa, movimenta-se em conexão coletiva, na produção e atuação direta com BATEKOO, Pumpdabeat, Baile Brabo, Bloco Colombina Clandestina, Afrontosas, BlackPride Uk, dentro outras. Seu percurso conversa com temas relacionados à (re) territorialização coletiva, identidades, ativismo e performance antirracista, na produção cultural e artística quer, negro e imigrante de artistas em diáspora. Em seu trabalho, DIDI conecta-se aos mais variados ritmos e manifestações artísticas afrodiaspóricas, por meio de expressões sonoras e de movimento, do baile funk ao house, do r&b 90/00 ao afro beat.

Yuri é artista brasileiro de São Paulo que reside atualmente em Lisboa. Produz a VORAZ uma festa de celebração de identidades não-binárias e trans, que nasceu no início do ano do seu show de rádio pelo coletivo da Rádio Quântica, que está no ar desde 2020. A sonoridade que Yura apresenta nas pistas de dança não se prendem a um gênero específico dentro da música eletrônica e sim uma mistura de referências e memórias musicais que acompanham sua trajetória. A proposta maioritariamente é sempre trazer músicos e produtores da América Latina, com foco na comunidade queer, criando uma atmosfera única na pista de dança, mas também em uma reflexão sobre o cenário musical atual.

24.11.22 COLLECT CONTRATEMPOS

24.11.22 LOUNGE FANNAR & MÁRIO VALENTE (Meat London)

24.11.22 MUSICBOX TREVO - CONCERTO HORÁRIO: 22:00

Os TREVO, trio composto por Gonçalo Bilé, Ricardo Pires e Ivo Palitos acabam de lançar o segundo single de avanço do esperado segundo disco de originais, "Estava Escrito". O novo tema está disponível em todas as plataformas digitais e vem acompanhado de um videoclipe oficial que pode ser visto no canal de YouTube da banda. "Por vezes vem a nós uma sensação de que o destino está já traçado. Principalmente quando as peças dos nossos puzzles se encaixam da mais harmoniosa forma. Tal como o Trevo, que se uniu e muniu de uma química tão espontânea! Parece que estava escrito... é assim na vida e no amor que a compõe e pinta! ", refere Gonçalo Bilé. É neste contexto que a banda nos brinda com um novo single. "Estava Escrito" é o tema que fala do tal fortuito encontro, que de tão perfeito parece previamente destinado. Este, fará parte de uma compilação de novas histórias, novas canções que serão editadas no novo disco de originais com lançamento previsto para o dia 18 de Novembro.

Neste trabalho juntou-se ao trio o pianista Paulo Borges que assume a coprodução com a banda. O resultado é um Trevo maior e mais exuberante. O concerto de lançamento do novo disco de estúdio está agendado para o dia 24 de Novembro, na sala MUSICBOX, em Lisboa. TREVO é um power trio que teve a fortuna de se cruzar na vida e na música. Os três refletem na música a cultura e boa onda de quem vive e respira perto da praia, do mar, do surf, do skate, do sol, mas principalmente celebram a amizade. Isso ouve-se, sente-se e valeu-lhes uma base de fãs que tem vindo a crescer desde o disco de estreia em 2006. Depois de lançarem o primeiro álbum em 2016, que mereceu destaque nas rádios nacionais e produções televisivas com os temas “Face meu, face meu (quantos likes tens)” ou “Dama de Carmim”, os Trevo fizeram-se à estrada, pisaram palcos de Norte a Sul de Portugal e de importantes Festivais nacionais, como O Sol da Caparica, Sumol Summer Fest, Caparica Surf Fest, entre outros. Em 2020, o Gonçalo Bilé, é semifinalista do The Voice Portugal, conquista o júri, mas mais importante, novos fãs e isso alimenta a ideia de um novo disco, que surge agora com lançamento marcado para o dia 18 de Novembro, com o primeiro single de avanço” Eu Falo Alto” e agora a faixa "Estava Escrito" a antecipar o que aí vem...

SASHA THEFT + VALODY + JOÃO MELGUEIRA + VÍTOR DOMINGOS HORÁRIO: 00:00

Após a primeira noite de clubbing na 1ª edição do festival MUPA, Vitor Domingos e João Melgueira aperceberam-se que a cidade estava faminta pela música electrónica. Nessa noite, mais de uma centena de corpos dançaram no icónico Restaurante Pé de Gesso, então transformado em espaço de clubbing do festival.

Um mês após este acontecimento, em Junho de 2019, a primeira Química aconteceu no mesmo sítio. A ideia era simples: trazer à capital do Baixo Alentejo DJ's de diferentes panoramas e coletivos, e uni-los numa festa, sempre contando com a presença de DJ's residentes. O conceito expandiu-se para outras localidades, e aconteceram, entretanto, 37 Químicas espalhadas de Sul a Norte do país.A 38ª terá lugar no Musicbox, na Quinta-feira dia 24 de Novembro, onde dois convidades se juntarão aos nossos dois residentes.

Natural de Beja, João Melgueira é um dos fundadores da Química. No seu portfólio conta com inúmeras datas de Sul a Norte em alguns dos mais conceituados clubes e festivais do país: ZDB, Damas, Le Baron, Rive Rouge, NADA Temple, Bons Sons, MUPA, Pizzanight, entre muitos outros. Nesta ocasião poderemos testemunhar um dos seus sets de final de noite, onde ritmos 4/4 abrasadores se unem a sons agudos e alarmantes: techno, maximal, acid, ruta del bakalao - não há limites para este DJ.Sasha Theft pertence ao coletivo kaptcha, cuja génese teve origem nos três anos de raves kit ket na capital. Lançou com elus o disco 'Amphibian Intermission' em 2021, um trabalho que coloca sons e samples extasiantes com a capacidade de nos transportar até aos 90's em estruturas contemporâneas da música electrónica. Na pista de dança Sasha estará munide de breaks e electro, num set que promete incendiar a pista de dança.

Valody espalha o seu carisma através dos decks. Criadora da label ELBEREC, trabalhou com inúmeros artistas através desta plataforma, lançando compilações e promovendo eventos. É também criadora da festa O Grave, que traz regularmente música electrónica a Viseu. No Musicbox hipnotizar-nos-á com a sua seleção cuidada de techno.

Vítor Domingos é outro dos fundadores da Química. Envolvido no mundo da música há mais de uma década, dedicando-se à produção de eventos em Beja como o festival MUPA, Vítor apercebeu-se que DJing poderia ser uma vocação quando misturou dois vídeos do YouTube no bar Os Infantes algures em 2017. Os seus sets pretendem seguir uma linha de intensidade ao invés de uma linha de género musical, pelo que são sempre uma viagem com algumas curvas inesperadas. Ideal para abrir a noite, um papel que desempenhará na primeira edição da Química no Musicbox.

24.11.22 LUX FRÁGIL BAR: ALMADA GUERRA B2B FOREST

25.11.22 COLLECT BADOGA & FIGUEIRA

25.11.22 LOUNGE MUTANTE: SEÑOR PELOTA

25.11.22 MUSICBOX TEMPERS HORÁRIO: 22:00

Os Tempers, banda pós-punk / synth-pop de Nova Iorque, traz a Portugal a tour de promoção ao seu mais recente álbum “New Meaning” de 2022. Venham assistir a um concerto único e dançar ao som de músicas como “Capital Pains”, “Strange Harvest” ou o mais recente “Guidance”. O duo de Nova Iorque, composto por Jasmine Golestaneh e Eddie Cooper, oferece-nos uma paleta variada de synth-pop poético, com influências de house, shoegaze e pós-punk.

A música de Tempers é dançável e ao mesmo tempo introspetiva. As batidas repetitivas das máquinas e os baixos eletrónicos hipnóticos são atravessados à vez pelos riffs latejantes da guitarra de Cooper e pela voz de Golestaneh que por vezes quase parece outro instrumento que paira como mais uma camada sonora, criando atmosferas envolventes que nos abraçam e nos levam a dançar.

Influenciados por Joy Division ou Kraftwerk e com sonoridades que nos remetem para os anos 80 de The Cure, Kate Bush ou Depeche Mode, os Tempers não são, no entanto, um exercício nostálgico, construindo antes a partir dessas referências uma sonoridade própria e atual. “New Meaning” é o 4º LP da banda, que iniciou a sua discografia em 2015 com “Services”. “Private Life” de 2019 trouxe o maior êxito da banda - “Capital Pains”. Pelo meio, um LP conceptual em colaboração com o arquiteto da Casa da Música, Rem Koolhaas.

JYOTY + SAINT CABOCLO + DJ STÁ HORÁRIO: 00:00

Começou a dar nas vistas pelo seu carisma enquanto porteira do Boiler Room e isso deu-lhe as primeiras oportunidades para assumir a cabine. Correu tão bem que começou os convites para as suas atuações foram crescendo e até se tornou uma voz das manhãs da famosa estação de rádio Rinse FM onde a sua curadoria musical e a sua capacidade de ligação com os convidados a ajudou a crescer uma forte presença online. Também ajudou que o seu set de 2019 no Boiler Room tenha ficado viral no Tik Tok, juntando mais de 2 milhões de visualizações na aplicação. A última vez que nos visitou foi em Março, com uma sala lotada para testemunhar o furacão Jyoty. O regresso era esperado, reserva já o teu bilhete em pré-venda para garantir a tua presença.

SAINTCABOCLO é um dos nomes mais entusiasmantes da nova onda da música em Lisboa. Os seus DJ sets representam as suas raízes brasileiras e vão desde o Baile Funk ao Afrobeat com ligação a pura música eletrónica. O seu público é fiel não só as suas festas de assinatura, Dengo Club, mas como o seguem pelo mundo fora.

Dj Stá, desde muito jovem arrancou nesta maratona a tocar em pequenos bares na sua localidade (Alentejo, Beja), e assim com o tempo foi melhorando a sua experiência, com o objetivo de viver uma magnifica experiência no mundo do djing e crescendo a nível musical e de técnica LIVE desde 2012. Entrou no mercado da noite/musica, com o seu estilo visual próprio e sendo uma DJ feminina tem alcançado vários sonhos! O seu destino é a música, está confirmado!

25.11.22 LUX FRÁGIL DISCO: INÊS DUARTE + COURTESY BAR: ZÉ PEDRO MOURA + DEXTER

26.11.22 LOUNGE NO IDOLS: CVLT + ADAM PURNELL

26.11.22 MUSICBOX SHUNAJI + DEAD FLYING THINGS HORÁRIO: 22:30

Shunaji é uma rapper, vocalista e produtora de Roma e atualmente vive em Londres. O seu estilo musical inovador mistura hip-hop influenciado pelo jazz com sabores funk, soul e psicadélicos, Shunaji ganhou o seu reconhecimento pela British Music Collection, os Prémios Help Musicians MOBO e os apresentadores da BBC Radio, incluindo Jamz Supernova.

Os lançamentos de Shunaji foram aclamados no âmbito de música independente no Reino Unido e no estrangeiro, uma vez que ela adopta um som afrofuturístico que ultrapassa os limites da música mainstream. Além disso, Shunaji recebeu vários prémios, incluindo o Italia Music Export Supporto Showcase, PRS Open Fund e Help Musicians Do It Differently. Shunaji tem atuado internacionalmente e em todo o Reino Unido em festivais como Glastonbury Festival, Love Supreme, Montreux Jazz Festival e We Out Here.

Este é um concerto Liveurope: a primeira iniciativa pan-europeia que apoia salas de programação de música nos seus esforços de promoção de artistas emergentes europeus. O Liveurope é co-financiado pelo programa Europa Criativa da União Europeia.

MEIBI + CATARINA SILVA HORÁRIO: 00:00

MEIBI há uma razão para termos ouvido falar muito de Meibi, que agora é um nome seguro da cena DJ de Lisboa. Depois de crescer enquanto uma criança tímida ligada à cena local, inicialmente fazendo parte de festas underground, mas rapidamente desenvolvendo um público que se traduziu em múltiplas performances em venues maiores. O compromisso com a sua identidade e género são um ponto nuclear da sua persona. Cada vez mais capazes, crescem a um nível permanente, o que se materializa numa energia própria e uma ligação íntima com o público. Na mala de discos encontram-se frequências Electro, Acid, EBM e e goth techno. Tão crípticos e misteriosos como a sua imagem consegue ser, a experiência de pista de dança pode ser definida como imprevisível e uma suada jornada narrativa a ser relembrada.

CATARINA SILVA de nome próprio, Catarina Silva procura a fusão de universos sonoros de estéticas distintas onde possam convergir harmonicamente. Entende a música como um sistema simbólico onde expressa sentimentos abstratos e desencadeia diferentes emoções. Desde o início da pandemia tem vindo a construir o seu espaço na cena nacional, através de uma seleção caprichosa e diversificada, desde ritmos assimétricos e percussões irregulares a melodias mais convencionais. É parte integrante do coletivo bracarense “Dark Sessions” desde 2018 e mais recentemente juntou-se também à associação “Alínea A”.

26.11.22 LUX FRÁGIL DISCO: YEN SUNG + CINTHIE BAR: M3DUSA + DJ GLUE

26.11.22 HARBOUR YANNICK MULLER+SAMAS+JOHN-E

27.11.22 MUSICBOX GRANDBROTHERS HORÁRIO: 21:30

All The Unknown é o título do terceiro álbum dos Grandbrothers, um trabalho que nos apresenta um vasto mundo sonoro repleto de possibilidades composicionais bem exploradas pelo pianista Erol Sarp e pelo produtor e engenheiro eletrónico Lukas Vogel, que têm vindo a mostrar a sua original abordagem eletrónica ao piano parado desde que se reuniram pela primeira vez em 2012. Este novo álbum cruza, uma vez mais, a tradição e a novidade enturmando-se mais longe no cosmos eletrónico através de um piano de cauda e de dispositivos mecânicos construídos propositadamente para o efeito e que são controlados por computador conseguindo um espetacular efeito.

Se ouvirmos com atenção podemos escutar uma batida de hip-hop da velha guarda enredada em piano melódico, ou sentir a frieza do techno a passar à velocidade de um relâmpago. "Queríamos deixar para trás a adorável música romântica do piano", explica Sarp, cuja afinidade com a música de dança sempre foi uma influência no seu processo de escrita. Na música dos Grandfather está presente um certo humor e um renovado espírito de aventura conduzido por batidas eletrónicas e sons que encorajam o movimento. "Embora a música seja ansiosa e por vezes muito enérgica, e as batidas duras o estejam a empurrar para a frente, ainda queremos que cada canção mantenha um pouco de esperança no final.

CIRCA PAPI HORÁRIO: 00:00

Circa Papi, o pseudónimo de Ronald Bravo Rómulo, "Mestre de Cerimónias" de raízes propriamente viradas ao old & new school Hip Hop & Rap, R&B soul, nunca esquecendo Afro Beat/Swing amapiano, Baile, Grime, UK Funky House transita entre estes e mais outros géneros musicais sempre de forma cool, groovy e geralmente eclética, providenciando boas vibes para a plateia.

30.11.22 LOUNGE MÁRIO VALENTE

0 notes

topguncortez · 1 year

Text

Bad Medicine | Epilogue

previous part | masterlist

synopsis: in the aftermath of the Seresin-Santiago wedding, loyalties are questioned and the future of the Seresin mafia is up in the air

word count: 1.4k

warnings: death, heart ache, grief, mentions of suicide, thoughts of suicide, guns, excessive drinking, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, bad coping mechanisms

Five days later the Seresin and Santiago families were gathered back at the mansion, this time for a much somber event. The church was decorated beautifully as two dark mahogany caskets for each of the fallen lovers were placed right in front of the altar. A hand painted portrait of the two of them placed in the middle. Emile fiddled with the flower arrangements on the caskets, making sure they looked their best.

Rafael sat in a chair, right in front of his daughter’s casket, his eyes never leaving the gold plaque that spelled her name. In a matter of days, he looked like a ghost of the man he used to be. He was pale, looked weak, his face having a five o’clock shadow. His three sons stood near him, in case he were to collapse again from crying and exhaustion. Rafael had agreed to let them bury Y/N’s body in the Seresin family vault. He felt like it would’ve just been cruel to separate her earthly vessel from her true love. Even in death, they both knew they wanted to be side by side.

Paulo had sent the official press notice out the day after their deaths. It was already spreading like wildfire, and many of the mafia world leaders started calling Rafael for answers. Paulo did what he could to keep the paparazzi at bay, but everyone wanted a picture of the mafia family during their grief. He felt like the Royals did after Princess Diana’s death.

Gianni had hid himself in his chamber, sending his guards out to find woman beaters and rapists, throwing them in his maze, watching them literally try and crawl their way out. He had shed more blood in the past five days than he had in years. Narciso did his best to keep the two oldest brothers from killing each other. Paulo never said it directly, but he placed the blame on Gianni for his sister’s death, and Gianni blamed Paulo. Narciso was left behind to pick up the pieces.

The Seresin parents had flown in two days after the news of their son’s death had reached them in Ireland. After Mr. Seresin’s near assassination attempt, they had been hiding on the moss covered island, away from the mess of the mafia world. Many people thought they had both died, and were shocked when they both got off the plane at the very same airport Y/N did just four weeks ago. Mrs. Seresin was a mess, having not stopped crying since she heard the news. Mr. Seresin had to hold her up as she placed her hand on her son’s casket. None of the boys dared to tell her the truth of Jake’s death, it would just break her heart even more.

Rooster couldn’t stand still, as he rocked back and forth on his feet, watching as people filtered in, hugged the Seresin parents and then Rafael. He hated funerals, always had. He hated that the two people who actually cared about him were laying in a casket, cold and dead. She had reminded him so much of his mother, caring, brave, strong, and determined. It had been so long since Rooster had felt that love and attention he so much craved, that he told himself if he could ever get that again, to never take it for granted. The kind gentle touch of a female hand on his cheek, telling him everything was going to be okay. He also had to make sure that Bob wasn’t dying of alcohol poisoning.

Bob had been drinking since the day of the wedding. He couldn’t get that image out of his mind, the pristine white scene, ruined by blood and bullets. He had been waking up screaming every single night, and Rooster had come running into his room to wake him up. Bob’s only reason for not going out the same way Jake did, was seeing the pained faces of his brother and best friend every day. Bob had thought about it, plenty of times, in the past and now. He thought about it that very night, as he helped Rooster and Narciso clean up the blood and the bullets, of going to his room and swallowing down a 9 mil. But he remembered that conversation on the balcony, the look in her eye of absolute nothingness and the way she was willing to end it all, without ever truly knowing how loved she was. Bob had a warm feeling inside of him everytime he thought of how loved she was, and he prayed that she knew that. That in her final moments she was brought to comfort by the thoughts of love.

Bob had to learn quickly on how to run the family. Mr. Seresin had given him a crash course in how to take over for his fallen brother. Bob never ever thought he would be taking over for the family and he wasn't sure if he was the right person for the job. All Bob wanted was a moment to grieve, to be able to lock himself in his room and just cry. But, he was glad that he didn't have to face it all alone.

Bob had Rooster and Javy waiting in the wings behind him, watching him closely. . . as well as their enemies. The Seresin family now had all eyes, once again, on them, waiting to see if they would break. But none of them were going to allow that, they’d never allow their enemies to see that. Instead of wallowing in grief, they all made themselves busy, planning Jake and Y/N’s funeral, getting Mr & Mrs Seresin back to the States, and flying in other diplomats and world leaders for the funeral. Javy did his best to ignore Bob’s drinking and the way Rooster was lining up bodies.

The service was short and sweet, and was held at a small church just down the way from the Seresin Mansion. Mr. and Mrs. Seresin invited everyone back to the house for a gathering of food and drinks to celebrate the two lovers. Bob and Rooster had escaped away from all the prying eyes, and let Javy do his job, dazzling the crowd with his smile. Bob had never been so happy to have Javy around during this time. He could hear Javy's loud laughter from where he stood on the second floor of the Seresin Mansion.

“And no one saw her,” Bob asked, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk.

“Not a single soul,” Gianni answered.

The office, which once belonged to Jake, was dark, except for the lighting fluttering in from the backyard. Rooster stood in the doorway of the balcony, half in the room and out, so he could keep his eye on things. Gianni sat on the leather settee across the room from Bob. Ever since that name had been whispered from Jake’s lips on that fateful day, the three of them plus Javy had been searching for any trace of Natasha.

“And our cameras?” Rooster asked.

“Narciso says they had been scrubbed,” Gianni ran a hand down his face, “Not sure if that was to protect footage of my sister’s murder from leaking to the media, or if it was intentional.”

“It had to have been to protect from a media leak,” Rooster sighed, “We didn’t want the house swarmed-”

“I could give a fuck less about what you want,” Gianni said, cutting Rooster off, “Maybe I fucking want the media to see what you bastards did to my little sister,” He stood up from the settee and walked to Rooster, “Maybe, if you would’ve actually made sure Francisco’s was dead, my sister would be alive! Maybe, if you would’ve fucking done your jobs-!”

“Enough!” Bob yelled. Gianni and Rooster had been at each other's throats the whole week. Everyone lost count of the amount of fights that they had broken up between the two men. Both of them were grieving with the loss of Y/N and Jake. They both felt like they had failed to protect them in different ways.

Bob rubbed his temples, “We have bigger things to deal with than what happened to some minutes of security footage. Is Natasha alive or not?”

Gianni scoffed, shaking his head, “It doesn’t matter. Finding out if she’s dead or not is not going to bring my sister or your brother back,” He looked at the two men, before fixing his coat, and walking out of the room.

Rooster and Bob stood in silence for a couple of moments, before Rooster crossed the threshold, walking straight to the rows of glass bottles of whiskey. He poured himself a drink, and basically downed it in one gulp, before pouring another.

“Where does he get off thinking he is all high and mighty?” Rooster scoffed, throwing back another shot of whiskey, “Where does he get the fucking-”

“Rooster, please,” Bob sighed, “Gianni is right. . . we failed them,” Rooster shook his head, pouring another shot, “But that’s the least of our issues.”

“What could be worse than that bitch being alive?”

“How did she survive in the first place?”

To be continued. . .

taglist: @cherrycola27 @seresinsbabe @violyn20 @materialgirl01 @bradleybeachbabe @a-reader-and-a-writer @lt-spork @topnerd03 @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @bioodforbiood @topguncultleader @ma-fraise @abaker74 @double-j @cm27078 @thedroneranger @khaylin27 @mak-32 @unhinged-btch @wittywhispers @theliterarybeldam @bloosomjoon @chxcxlate-cxxkies @luckyladycreator2 @wellshit6 @harper1666 @phoenix1388 @footprintsinthesxnd @dempy @emma8895eb @bonitanightmxres @love2write2626 @bobbyonboard @some-lovely-day @thenewdaysalreadyhere @cassiemitchellslibrary @ilymoonie @morgensternsblog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rintheemolion @tallrock35 @adoringsebstan @xoxabs88xox

note: the sequel teaser will be out on Thursday:) thank you so much for reading and riding along with me! this story means a lot and hopefully. . . some day soon. . . you'll see a copy of it on shelves. . .

111 notes · View notes

basiccortez · 2 years

Text

Gianni Blurb #1 word count: 1.1k masterlist

warnings: mentions of guns, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, death, murder, physical assault.

This takes place after the events in Chapter 6

The mansion was quiet, except for the loud footsteps of a certain Santiago brother as he marched down to his brother’s office. Gianni saw nothing but red, after getting a picture from Andrew of his little sister’s face. She looked to be sleeping soundly, minus the dark bruising under her eyes. Gianni didn’t even need to be told who did it or what happened, he already knew.

“Yo fucker!” Gianni yelled, as he pushed open the heavy wooden doors, exposing Rafael’s office, “You know what he fucking did to her!? What you allow him to do?!”

“Gianni,” Paulo started, but was cut off by Gianni’s fist making contact with his jaw. The impact sent Paulo reeling back and stumbling into the youngest Santiago boy, “What the fuck!?”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m not talking to you,” Gianni said and then looked back at Rafael. The Don crossed his arms over his chest, watching his middle son have his little outburst. He knew his son all too well, knowing that this would be over soon. Gianni would go out, find some murderer or rapist and throw them into the ring and beat them half to death, “You sent her over there for protection! Not for him to beat her!”

“He sent her over there to complete the-”

Paulo’s sentence was cut off, by Gianni once again striking him, this time, Paulo didn’t let it go. He pushed his middle brother back, making his steps falter. When Gianni got his footing, he grabbed Paulo’s shirt, slamming him up against the wall. Paulo groaned as his head bounced off the dark wood of the wall, as Gianni grabbed his knife, swishing it out and holding it against his throat.

“I said, I’m not talking to you,” Gianni growled, pressing the blade against his brother’s throat.

“What are you gonna do, Gio, gonna slice my throat open? You think you can fucking handle the family business?”

Gianni smirked, shaking his head, “He’s got his hooks in you deep,” He looked over at his father, “Nice job with this one, you really out did yourself Rafael,” Gianni turned his head back to his older brother, “What do you want me to do Paulo? Huh, lay down and fucking take it? Bend over and get it up the ass? You’re fucking out of your mind if you think I’m going to sit here and let that fucking punk beat up my little sister. I’ve failed her too many times, not going to let it happen again.”

“You go over there and Franky finds you, he’ll do a lot more than just torture Sophie,” Narciso spoke up, tired of the testosterone fight between his brothers. Gianni loosened his grip on Paulo a bit, and nodded towards the youngest brother to keep talking, “We’ve been in contact with him. We can’t do anything, or it’ll be worse for everyone else involved. I know it sucks, but it is what it is, Gianni.”

“Maybe for you spineless, weak, fuckers, but not for me,” Gianni said, and let Paulo go, and stormed out of the room.

Paulo fixed his suit jacket and his hair before looking at his father, waiting for his next order. Rafael didn’t say anything as he pulled out a cigar from his desk drawer. Paulo rolled his eyes, and walked out of the office, going to make himself busy with something.

Gianni was sitting in what was once his old room, but Y/N had made it into a small bar room. He sat at the bar, nursing a glass of dark colored whisky. He was pissed, everything made him want to act out and kill something. Seeing his little sister once again being hurt by a man, fueled the guilt in his body. Gianni had been good friends with Francisco, he was even set to be his best man in the wedding. Gianni had no clue the kind of monster Francisco really was. He could remember those days when Y/N was missing and Francisco acted like everything was just fine.

--- --- ---

“Gianni, have you, have you ever gutted someone?” Francisco asked him. The two had some poor soul tied up by his wrists in the chamber. Gianni’s hands and white dress shirt were covered in blood. According to the surveillance video Narciso had gathered, this man was the one who had dragged Y/N into some car.

“No, I haven’t,” Gianni answered and looked down at the various knives and things in front of him.

“Do you know how to?”

“Yeah,” Gianni said, and sighed, leaning on the table, “You gotta have a knife sharp enough to penetrate through the skin, bones, organs and muscles,” He picked up a knife from the table, twirling it in his hands, “Then you split them from groin to sternum. Takes a lot of strength to do. To really make sure it’s done right, you cut deep enough to split all the organs.”

Francisco nodded, gulping down the bile rising in his throat. He had been next to Gianni enough times to know how twisted the middle Santiago boy is. Gianni looked at the knife in his hand again, before walking up to the man in chains.

“I’m going to ask you again, where is my sister and my mother?!” Gianni yelled in the man’s face. His brown eyes were filled with fear and he visibly shook. He had blood running down the side of his forehead, his nose was broken, and he had pissed his pants out of fear.

“I said I don’t know! I was just paid to move her body from the warehouse!”

“To where!?”

“I can’t say! He told me not to!”

“Who did!?”

Before the man could say anything, Francisco had stormed up to the two, pushing Gianni out of the way, and slit the man’s throat wide open. Francisco couldn’t even hear Gianni yelling at him, his mind clouded over with the pleasure of watching the blood seep out of the man’s throat. His heart was beating so loud, he couldn’t take his eyes off of the sight in front of him.

“Francisco!” Gianni yelled, grabbing his body, “Why the fuck did you do that? He was about to tell us who has my sister and my mom!”

“He’s a fucking junkie,” Francisco said, “He doesn’t know shit.”

“Clean this shit up,” Gianni demanded, leaving him and the dead man alone in the chamber.

--- --- ---

Little did Gianni know that three days after that night in the chamber, his little sister would be found almost dead in a dark alley, and his mother’s body would be found hung up and gutted in the town square.

-------

A/N: if you say me post this and then delete it. . . you didn't. I hope this helps pass the time:)

#sinners and saints #sinners and saints AU #sinners and saints inspo #Gianni Santiago #g's asks #my asks

17 notes · View notes