#Female Welfare

[corneliusbella]

Expository Christian Study: “Woman, Thou Art Loosed”

Introduction The phrase “Woman, thou art loosed” originates from Luke 13:12 (KJV): “And when Jesus saw her, he called her to him, and said unto her, Woman, thou art loosed from thine infirmity.” This study delves into the implications of this declaration for women’s well-being, their roles as mothers and wives, their relationships with their husbands, and the atmosphere of their homes.…

[haggishlyhagging]

The question of suitable employment is raised persistently within the welfare system: what is to be expected of women with children? should they work or stay home? what kind of work are they offered or forced to take? is that work entirely determined by prejudgments as to their nature—what can and should be expected of them because they are female, female and black, female and white, female and poor, female and unmarried? In New York City, women on welfare say that they have been strongly encouraged by welfare workers to turn to prostitution, the threat being that the individual woman may in the future be denied welfare benefits because the caseworker knows the woman could be making big bucks on the street; or in emergencies, women on welfare are told to raise the money they need by turning a trick or two. In Nevada, where prostitution is legal, women on welfare have been forced off welfare because they refused to accept the suitable employment of prostitution; once it is a legal, state-regulated job, there is no basis for refusing it. Prostitution has long been considered suitable employment for poor women whether it is legal or not. This is particularly cynical in the welfare system, given the fact that women on welfare have been subjected to "fornication checks"—questioned about their sexual relations at length, questioned as to the identity of the fathers of so-called illegitimate children, questioned as to their own sexual habits, activities, and partners—and have been denied welfare if living with a man or if a man spends any time in the domicile or if having a sexual relationship with a man. Their homes could be inspected anytime: searches were common after midnight, when the welfare workers expected to find the contraband man; the courts put a stop to late searches but daytime searches are still legal. Beds, closets, and clothes were inspected to see if any remnant of a male presence could be found. Sometimes criminal charges of fornication were actually brought against the mothers of illegitimate children; the purpose was to keep them from getting welfare. For instance, in one typical case, a New Jersey woman was convicted of fornication and given a suspended sentence; she was forced to name the father, who went to prison. Welfare workers were allowed to interrogate children concerning the social and sexual habits of their mothers. Women on welfare have even been required to tell when they menstruate. Women on welfare have had no rights to sexual privacy; and in this context, turning them toward prostitution goes right along with refusing to allow them private, intimate, self-determined sexual relations. Prostitution is the ultimate loss of sexual privacy. Gains made in the courts in the 1960s to restore rights of privacy to these women are being nullified by new welfare policies and regulations designed to control the same population in the same old ways—practices that reappear in new guises but are built on the same old attitudes and impinge on the welfare population in the same old and cruel ways. The state is a jealous lover, except when it pimps.

-Andrea Dworkin, Right Wing Women

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads

This Dark Descent

YA fantasy in a world of political unrest & war

a girl whose family ranch is overcome with debt, and her only option to save it is to win the dangerous magical horse race - but she’s not allowed to use an enchanted horse

and a girl who uses illegal magic without a license, and can make undetectable animal golems

both are brought together by a rich heir who has a plan to help them both - in exchange for helping him

Jewish folklore; demidemi & questioning MCs

[navinsamachar]

लोक सेवा आयोग से बने सहायक प्राध्यापक, जीवन कौशल तथा अभिवृत्ति पर व्याख्यान एवं राइंका नैनीताल में बनेगा राजकीय वृद्धाश्रम

डॉ. पंत और डॉ. जोशी का लोक सेवा आयोग उत्तराखंड से सहायक प्राध्यापक के पद पर चयन  =(Nainital News Today 31 July 2024 Navin Samachar) नवीन समाचार, नैनीताल, 31 जुलाई 2024 (Nainital News Today 31 July 2024 Navin Samachar)। डीएसबी परिसर के पूर्व छात्र डॉ. भूपेश पंत और डॉ. स्वाति जोशी का शिक्षा शास्त्र में लोक सेवा आयोग उत्तराखंड से सहायक प्राध्यापक के पद पर चयन हो गया। इस पर कूटा यानी कुमाऊं…

[nomad-of-the-valley]

Scientific Paper Review: Insects may or may not be sentient??

Reading this (https://www.wageningenacademic.com/doi/epdf/10.3920/JIFF2022.0041?role=tab) paper about welfare when farming black soldier flies (published 2023) with the main author being Meghan Barret, who is a super duper cool female scientist that believes strongly in insect welfare (e-portfolio link here: http://meghan-barrett.com/about-me/), and I'm astonished!

Introduction starts off with a quick overview of what the paper is getting into and then dives into background history. I love reading scientific papers simply because there is so much cool stuff to learn. Animal welfare is dependent upon how the animal views how it's doing. A pampered lap dog with depression still has depression. A sad bug living in a super duper cool vivarium (which are way hard to set up) is still sad.

Insects in science may or may not be sentient. How do you define sentient? Where do you draw the line of responding to making decisions? Wild! If insects are sentient we should, of course, treat them like we are. If they aren't how do we determine welfare for something that's not sentient. This isn't about philosophy though so we're continuing on.

There is a model called the five freedoms model. The paper said it best so I'm quoting them here, "According to that influential model of animals’ interests (Brambell, 1965), animals ought to kept in ways that keep them free: (1) from hunger and thirst; (2) from discomfort; (3) from pain, injury, and disease; (4) to express normal behaviour; and (5) from fear and distress.".

From here the introduction continues to go on to explain that it's hard to tell when an insect is doing or has this stuff. If a pet cat decides to be a picky eater, is the owner a bad owner for not keeping them free from hunger and thirst or is the cat being picky? Again though! Not hear for philosophy or ethics that's been discussed a hundred times before.

What can be determined though is if something kills an insect it is bad. If it increases mortality, like a parasite would, it is bad. Good thing is that factors between farmed invertabra (aka bugs) is pretty universal. Another good news is we know a lot about the biology of the black soldier fly! They have six larva stages.

That concludes this part of the post! More coming soon.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Okay, I know people as a general rule tend to not care about invertebrates as much as cute, fuzzy mammals, but this is a must-read if you care about animal welfare. The short version is that horseshoe crab blood has been used for decades in medicine as a way to test whether something is truly sterile; the blood clots in the presence of bacteria. Since then millions of horseshoe crabs have been captured and drained of blood, even though a synthetic alternative was developed a few years ago.

They go through a pretty brutal experience in the process. They're caught by fishermen who often throw them by their tails into a pile in the open air, and they're then trucked to a bleeding facility where they're strapped down and their blood is removed with needles jabbed directly into their hearts. Over half their blood may be taken, after which they're supposed to be returned to the ocean. However, it's likely many of them never make it back, instead turned into fish bait and sold by the same fishermen who caught them in the first place.

Apart from the fact that this is a horrific thing to put any animal through, the attrition due to fatalities has put a serious dent in horseshoe crab numbers. This is compounded by massive habitat loss, pollution, and the capture of horseshoe crabs as food, particularly as the females of one species are considered a delicacy. And other animals that rely on horseshoe crabs are suffering, too. The American rufa subspecies of the red knot, a medium-sized shorebird, is critically endangered as the horseshoe crab eggs it must have in order to successfully complete migration have become increasingly scarce, and it is likely the bird will become extinct if trends continue.

While there are guidelines for medical horseshoe crab harvest, they're considered optional. The few laws that exist are poorly enforced. Short of a complete ban on horseshoe crab blood in favor of the synthetic alternative, these animals are in very real danger of going extinct after a history spanning over 400 million years on this planet.

Thankfully, this article is not the first to bring forth the issues surrounding horseshoe crab harvest. Here are a few resources for further information and action (US based, though horseshoe crabs are threatened throughout their entire range):

Horseshoe Crab Conservation Network - https://horseshoecrab.org/conservation/

Wetlands Institute - https://wetlandsinstitute.org/conservation/horseshoe-crab-conservation/

Horseshoe Crab Recovery Coalition - https://hscrabrecovery.org/

[dduane]

:)

"At one point, the Animal Welfare debate segued into a discussion of the soap opera Coronation Street, with Labour MP for Chester Samantha Dixon saying: 'Is my hon. Friend aware of a recent Coronation Street storyline on precisely this issue? It involved the indomitable Evelyn, who is, of course, played by Maureen Lipman, and covered the issues around puppy farming. It was a strong, educational storyline.'"

[flowerandblood]

Paradise Fruit (1)

[ Kingdom of Heaven • King Baldwin x female ]

[ warnings: watching each other masturbate, soft, poetic smut, a detailed description of the deadly disease and the unpleasant symptoms associated with it ]

[ description: After being treated by King Saladin's physicians, King Baldwin begins to leave his chambers. The people of the court whisper around her that the young ruler will not even live to be thirty years old. As a lady of waiting of his sister, she attracts his attention. ]

Author's Note: I said it and I did it: I know this isn't your typical Ewan Mitchell character, but I couldn't resist. I'm glad I wrote this because I had too many thoughts after watching this movie and now my soul is at peace! For those who haven't seen Kingdom of Heaven, I highly recommend it, it's an amazing production.

Word count: 3.900

Part 2 – White Marriage

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Jerusalem seemed to her at once a paradise and a hell on earth, both beautiful, sublimely sacred, as much as broken, dirty and cruel. The reign of King Baldwin IV was a reign of restraint and peace, the greatest evidence of which was his rich diplomatic correspondence with King Saladin himself.

Baldwin gave permission for the Muslim part of Jerusalem to hold prayers as it wished, on payment of appropriate taxes – a huge step towards reconciling the city's disparate population and a cause of contention among the Christian knights.

As lady of the court, she accompanied the royal sister, Sibylla, like her shadow, serving her with conversation, reading books in her company, being the equivalent of her friend and confidante, watching over her welfare.

She was the third daughter, and was therefore a burden to her lord father, who sent her to Jerusalem to the royal court when she was thirteen. Her father hoped that Sibylla herself would find her a suitable husband and put up the coins for her dowry, allowing her family to glory on the Old Continent in the fact that her chosen one was favoured by the God in the Holy Land.

Looking at Princess Sibylla's marriage, she prayed that she would never meet her fate, preferring to eventually fade into old age in a monastery.

Her Lady abhorred her husband: not in a physical context, for he was not unlike other great knights in stature or appearance, but in his heart, which was filled with the lust for power.

Although he believed that he was acting in the name of Christ on the Earth, he represented neither his mercy nor his prudence, being a simply unkind and spiteful man.

Sibylla was given in marriage to him at the age of 15, and she watched her sufferings and humiliations in silence, only being able to allow herself occasionally to close her hand on hers, giving her encouragement.

It was known that her husband's dream was the death of the King, for it would then be his wife who would become heir to the throne. Someone might laugh at this wish, knowing that King Baldwin was only 16 years old when she arrived at court.

However, despite such a young age, it was known that the King would probably not live to see his thirtieth year.

The cruel disease that had descended upon his body when he was still a young child, leprosy, was the reason why his whole body was covered, and his face was adorned with a beautiful silver mask – the only thing visible through it were his eyes, bright and wise, the skin around his eyelids all red.

His sister despaired at his undeserved suffering, at the thought that his body was falling apart, his skin peeling and pulling away from his muscles, causing him excruciating pain. He could not touch anyone or be touched directly because his disease was contagious.

Thus, one of the greatest rulers of Jerusalem, a man who had accomplished the impossible and ushered, at least for a while, the Kingdom of Heaven into this forbidden holy land, suffered daily torment.

As she prayed for the health of her family and his sister, she also prayed for him – since Christ was able to miraculously cure lepers, as the Bible itself said, perhaps there was hope for him too.

As a sign of respect and friendship, the Muslim King Saladin sent a retinue of his best physicians to relieve the King of his pain, which must have helped at least to some extent, for although she had previously only seen him in audience standing by his sister's side, now the King began to walk through the palace gardens on his own.

One day, when Sibylla noticed him standing next to one of the monks, she approached him immediately, praising his name, and she moved humbly to follow her, feeling grateful at the thought that the King was indeed feeling better.

That perhaps her prayers had been answered.

"Brother. It rejoices me to see you in the fresh air, away from the suffocating comfort of your chambers full of books and parchments." Sibylla said, pulling her shawl from her mouth, revealing her face to her brother.

As a married woman, she covered her face out of sheer decency, as her husband was a jealous man, but she, as a maiden, in addition almost always being in the presence of her Lady, did not have to do so.

"Your judgement is too harsh, dear sister. Books and parchments are my solace in the hardest of times." He said calmly and lazily, effortlessly – it was the first time she had heard his voice this close and she thought the words coming out of his mouth were like humming.

He had a white linen cloth draped over his head that reminded her of the headgear of the pharaohs, a richly embroidered white robe and gloves on his body, a silver mask portraying the features of a handsome, masculine man on his face.

She swallowed hard as his gaze shifted to her, catching her looking shamelessly at her ruler's face, causing her to lower her head immediately.

"Let's take a walk. We should take advantage of the beautiful weather." Said his sister, wanting to take his arm, he however moved away immediately and shook his head.

Pain and sadness crossed Sibylla's face, but after a moment she only nodded and forced herself to smile, walking ahead with him, letting her and the King's servant walk a few steps behind them.

That evening, for the first time, the King summoned her.

"Do not fret." Sibylla said. "My brother is a man of decency and sensitivity. Rest assured, he will not set upon your virtue or force you to do things unworthy of a lady. He confessed to me that he would like to look at your face for at least a moment longer and asked me to convey his wish to you, indicating that you may refuse."

She looked at her in disbelief, feeling the blush of embarrassment appear on her cheeks at her words, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad.

"If it is the will of our beloved King, I will do so." She said, and Sibylla nodded, giving her one satisfied smile.

She wore her most beautiful robe and hair adornments as if she were about to attend a nuptials – the material cast over her body was blue, fastened at the shoulders and waist with golden buckles, in her hair at the sides jewellery resembling a wreath of laurel leaves.

As she entered his chamber, candles burned all around, she was also struck by the intense scent of lavender – she noticed immediately his white, seated figure bent over thick tomes. His head turned towards her, in his mask she was able to see the reflection of everything around him.

"Do not be afraid. Come closer." He said softly and she nodded, feeling her heart flutter in her chest like a bird.

Her footsteps on the stone floor echoed through his chamber, the rustling of her robe as she sat down opposite him made her sound similar to the rustling of leaves.

She swallowed hard as she watched him sigh and spread out comfortably in his chair, looking her straight in the eye – she immediately looked away, unaccustomed to such confidentiality with anyone.

"No." He said. "Don't deny me this pleasure."

She tightened her fingers on the material of her garment, lifting her gaze to him again, feeling herself involuntarily begin to breathe through her mouth.

She could see the calm and curiosity in his eyes – his head was tilted slightly to one side, as if he was thinking about something, silence all around him.

"I'm making you uncomfortable." He concluded.

She shook her head quickly, horrified, thinking that something in her posture or gaze had discouraged him.

"No, Your Grace. I just don't know how to behave. What is appropriate for me to do or say in your presence. Silence is safe." She confessed in shame, lowering her eyes to her fingers again, reminding herself after a moment that she should not do so.

The King hummed at her words.

"Do not take my words as my attempt to mock you, however, knowing how little time I have left in this wretched world has made me tread lightly in courtly etiquette." He said with amusement, not taking his eyes off her, something flashed in his gaze as if someone had lit a candle inside them.

"We waste time feigning care and respect, hiding what is true, arising from the depths of our hearts, because that is what etiquette demands of us. When we stand before God, will we say to him: I have never really loved or sympathised, but my lips have left many beautiful, great words?" He asked, and she looked at him in disbelief, completely surprised by his approach and what she had heard.

Some part of her knew he was right.

"In this world, only the King can afford to lack beautiful words." She muttered, hearing after a moment that something akin to a chuckle had left his lips.

"You are mistaken. One word from the King can either create or destroy."

She lowered her head, wondering if he had just rebuked her, he, however, seemed satisfied.

"My reign will end with my death, which will be in a few years at the latest. I will not beget an heir to whom I can pass on my philosophy of ruling, the values that are essential. My sister's husband and his greed will sit on the throne, and Jerusalem will fall." He said calmly, as if he were telling her about the weather, his fingers clad in a white silk glove tapping rhythmically against the table top.

She swallowed hard, feeling a squeeze in her heart, wondering if perhaps the reason he had summoned her was quite different from what she had suspected.

"What shall I do, my King?" She asked, and he laughed again, louder this time, looking at her as if something in her question gave him pleasure.

"Your devotion rejoices my heart. Do not think, however, that you will hear from me an order that would condemn you to eternal damnation. I could not then leave this world in peace. No. I wish that when I disappear, someone will watch over my sister. To help her escape when all is lost here, no matter what her husband will desire. Do you understand what I have in mind?" He asked softly, and she nodded, thinking she felt more respect towards him than ever.

"Yes, my King." She replied.

He smiled at her words, she saw it in his gaze. She lifted her gaze higher, towards the windows by which the shoots of dried lavender hung, surrounding them with a pleasant, refreshing scent.

"I had these beautiful flowers brought in from far away. They mask well the unpleasant ailments of my illness on hot days. The smell of rotting flesh is one of the most disgusting to man, for nature equates it with spoiled food from which he can die." He explained, and she looked at him in disbelief, feeling hot shame ripple through her body at his words.

His suffering must have been unimaginable.

"Knights praise their own greatness and bravery during battles wishing for songs to be sung about them. I, for one, hope to hear songs about Baldwin IV, a wise and prudent King, a merciful Monarch who fought each day with his own suffering and triumphed. I do not know the words that can convey my admiration for your person." She mouthed in a trembling voice, feeling that her hands lying on her thighs were quivering all over with emotion, burning tears for some reason squeezed under her eyelids.

The King looked at her for a long moment in silence, something in his gaze that made her feel a pleasant tingling in her fingertips.

"Your soul is as beautiful as your body. You are like a breath of cool wind on a hot day. I am grateful to you for allowing me to experience this joy."

As she left his chamber, for some reason she burst out crying.

She could not understand why: it seemed to her that her heart squeezed all over in pain, not only out of compassion, but also out of a sense of injustice that a man so great and enlightened was experiencing undeserved torment every day.

Or was it through his ordeal that he became such a man, such a King?

If the gates of the Kingdom of Heaven were to open before anyone in the second life, it was before him, she thought.

That night she could not sleep: she was ashamed of herself for thinking about him. She tried not to pay attention to men, knowing their nature, knowing that they might consider it an invitation on her part to sin.

However, the time she spent with him, although she might perceive his words as ambiguous, seemed to her something almost spiritual, a moment of awakening, as if she had been in a half-sleep until the moment she looked into his eyes.

His gaze would find her in the audience among the other servants and ladies of the court. She knew this because his eyes stopped on her face, and although he listened intently to what his subjects were saying to him, she knew that for that one moment he was focused only on her.

The flutter of her heart shamed her, allowing her to realise that, like a flower, a warm and pleasant feeling was blossoming within her, coming from God.

"You occupy my brother's thoughts. He follows you with his eyes." Said Sibylla as they walked together through the corridors of the great, cold stone fortress.

"It was not my desire to distract him from the affairs of the Kingdom." She confessed with shame, entwining her fingers on her womb, looking sadly at her fingers. His sister snorted at her words.

"Jerusalem is destroying him. It is the Kingdom that is his disease. He has taken upon himself all its sins, purified it. He gave it years of peace and dignity." She said with a pain from which she felt a sting in her heart.

Why was it that whenever she thought of him she wanted to cry?

"I want to relieve him." She said finally, looking at her uncertainly, afraid of how the words sounded when they left her mouth. Sibylla stopped, looking at her with furrowed brows.

"Don't be a fool. My brother will not condemn you to a fate similar to his own."

"There are many ways to experience relief. You said so yourself, Princess."

Sibylla looked at her thoughtfully and after a moment nodded, giving her wordless consent to whatever she wished to do.

The trust she had in her intimidated her.

As the siblings' chambers were next to each other, walking along the corridor from one quarters to the other was not a problem for her – Sibylla dismissed her guards so that no one could see in what negligee she went to the king's chamber.

Her long hair was loose, her body covered only by a thin nightgown, rubbed with fragrant oils, on her shoulders a cashmere shawl with which she covered herself to protect herself from the cold.

When she closed the door behind her and turned to face him, his eyes were wide in shock. He was silent for a moment, clearly not knowing what to say.

"No." He said finally. "Go back to your chamber."

"I have not come to you to sin. Does the sight of me disgust you, my King?" She asked in a trembling voice, feeling that she was breathing heavily through her mouth, her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

She saw something in his gaze that looked like he felt pain, his figure creased slightly, as if he had run out of strength.

"God created you to subject me to the ultimate trial. He is torturing me like Job."

She felt a single, warm, heavy tear run down her cheek at his words, her body trembling all over, hot and cold at the same time with desire, though she did not know what kind or what was causing it.

"God sent me to soothe your suffering." She whispered.

They looked at each other like that for a long moment that lasted an eternity, and only after a while did she realise that his silence was due to the fact that he wanted whatever she was going to do to be due to her free will. Therefore, she moved tentatively towards his bed, on which she saw a clean, snow-white sheets, and lay down on her back, putting her shawl aside.

She looked up at him – his gaze was fixed on her, his silhouette sitting in a chair by the window frozen in stillness, the whiteness of his attire seeming to her to shine amidst the candles and the surrounding darkness of the night.

She swallowed hard, feeling the dryness in her throat as her fingers lifted to the ties of her nightgown – she untied the knot, a pleasant squeeze spreading between her thighs, something sticky beginning to leak from it onto the sheet beneath her buttocks.

"– does what I am doing disgust you, my King? – is it a sin? –" She asked, sliding the thin material off her shoulders in a gentle, soft motion, unashamedly revealing her plump, sweet breasts. His gaze fled to them, as if what he had just seen simultaneously terrified and excited him.

"– looking at you, all I feel is desire – it's me sinning in my mind, not you –" He whispered so that she barely heard him, his hand sliding from the table top to his thigh.

Though she knew it was wrong, her whole body screamed, wanting him to touch her, to check for himself how soft and warm her flesh was, her moist, swollen womanhood, pulsing around nothing in desire.

"– not just you, Your Grace –" She muttered in a trembling voice, shamefully mimicking his movements, her long, small fingers sliding down her belly between her thighs, sinking into her warm folds like the moist flesh of an exotic fruit.

His head bowed as they both made a strange, unnatural sound full of surprise at the same moment, a moan as if they had caused each other pain, but yet all she could feel was a wonderful, hot tingling in her quivering womanhood, in her lips, in her nipples, in the tips of her fingertips.

He did not allow her to look at what he was touching under the material of his robe, she could however see the shape of that part of his body outlined on the material – his manhood was long and fat like a piece of stick, growing larger and larger with each squeeze of his hand.

She threw her head back, imagining feeling something that big inside her, in an involuntary reflex finding with her fingertips her puffy slit, slick and tight, resisting her as she tried to slide it inside her.

"– let me see –" He whispered, as if asking for something dirty, disgusting, repulsive.

She, however, felt only the heat of pleasure at his words shake her body – her thighs involuntarily parted, her legs bent at the knees allowing her nightgown to shamelessly reveal all that only her husband should be able to look at.

She felt tears under her eyelids at the thought of wanting to be his wife.

"– you have my love, my King – you have my heart –" She breathed out, digging her fingers deeper into the delicate structure of her folds, teasing again and again the small bud from which her body went through shivers of wonderful, familiar pleasure.

His eyes were fixed on what was between her thighs, his gaze hazy and hot, his breath heavy, the sound of his hand smacking against his flesh sticky and lewd.

"– like the inside of a ripe fruit – like Eve in paradise –" He breathed out, staring at her as if he were looking at something delightful, accelerating the splats of his hand with a low grunt of pleasure. "– so beautiful –"

She felt a thrill of pleasure shake her, shivers ran through her cheeks, breasts and legs at his words, so shameless and yet poetic, beautiful, like the Song of Songs of King David.

"– her breasts are like two fawns –" She hummed, quoting one of the biblical verses, the gaze of her King again fixed on her face, full of fire, heavenly or infernal. "– like twin fawns of a gazelle that browse among the lilies –"

"– her lips drop sweetness as the honeycomb – milk and honey are under her tongue –" He whispered in reply, quoting another of the songs from the manuscript, making her involuntarily allow her own fingers to invade her insides at last.

She threw her head back with a girlish moan, her free hand gripping the frame of his bed, rolling her hips back and forth, stretching her tight interior with the sticky clicks of her wetness.

"– she is a spring enclosed – a sealed fountain –" He muttered and let out a low, helpless groan of relief, leaning down, his hand lying on the table top clenched into a fist.

She felt a wonderful convulsion shake her body at his words, her fleshy, moist walls beginning to throb and clench around her own fingers.

She imagined that her body had just sucked his seed deep inside her, which would take root in her like a tree, giving him a future and an inheritance.

She moaned as she felt her pleasure reach its peak, seeing for a moment only the darkness before her eyes – her fingers, all wet with her moisture stroked for a moment more the little spot deep inside her, her whole body hot and sweaty from the exertion.

Her release was wonderful and sweet, as if she had tasted the most delicious of fruits.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze, his figure relaxed and spread out comfortably on the chair, his hand laid back on its armrest, his glove sticky with something pearly and shiny.

They breathed loudly for a while, just watching each other – she decided not to cover her body, wanting to give him that pleasure, wishing only his gaze could see her like this.

Bare.

He sighed quietly, cocking his head, his gaze satisfied, indicating that he had clearly made a decision in his heart.

"– I will marry you tomorrow at dawn –"

She blinked and raised herself up on her elbows, horrified.

"– my King – that's not –"

"– I know that this was not your intention – I also know that you will understand that it will be a white marriage, which I will declare to all and sundry – you will not lose your maidenhood – you will not bear me children – the Kingdom will treat you after my death as a saint who stood by the dying King in his misery – when I join my Father in the Heavens, you will be free to remarry –" He explained and she shook her head, feeling offended by his words.

"– I will not take another husband –"

He fell silent and swallowed hard, as if something in the certainty in which she said this moved him deeply.

"– very well – I have only one condition: you will never take off my mask – not even after my death – you will see me as I am only in the Kingdom of Heaven –"

[myfictionaldreams]

I Don’t Care // Mafia!Stuck x fem!reader

Summary: Request on AO3: 'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, dom/sub, fluff/comfort, period sex, mentions of blood, description of cramps, daddy kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, choking, multiple orgasms, intense, cockwarming, overprotective, possessive behaviour, size different, praise kink

Words: 5.7k

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Mother nature had decided to curse your life today. Every 28 days without fail, your period would be an inconvenience but never to this extent, praying to whatever god was listening to save you from the excruciating waves of pain ripping through your uterus. Not only this, but it was affecting your entire body, feeling drained with fatigue, nauseous and a migraine slowly creeping through your temple.

You were mentally officially done with the day, and thankfully the anticipated meeting with Johann Schmidt was finished and successfully had gone according to plan, which meant no murders and happy handshakes to new beginnings. There were a few relaxed moments after waving them off and you were rushing to the toilet, needing to just sit and mentally process how you were going to survive the rest of the day.

Even though everyone was preparing to leave, there was still food shopping that needed to be completed which was a chore in of itself. Having to buy food for two grown men that ate triple the amount of any normal person was energy draining but now only this, in the evening, to celebrate the new partnership, Steve was taking the two groups to the fanciest restaurant in town.

Groaning, you doubled over in pain as you sat on the toilet, wishing to stay here instead or maybe, cuddled up on the sofa with Bucky and Steve but no, life wasn’t this simple, you’d need to suck it up and get on with the day and hoped it passed by quickly and at least the meeting was over.

Deciding to face the music, you finished using the bathroom, splashing some cool water on your face before exiting, only to come face to face with Bucky who was leaning against the wall, staring at the watch on his wrist.

“Good timing mama, another 30 seconds and I would have been coming in there. Didn’t think it was appropriate to be rushing into the female toilets but you’ve been a while”. Smiling softly at him, you walked over, watching as he extended his arms to pull your body against his chest.

“Overprotective Oaf, can’t a girl go to the toilet anymore without being timed”, you sarcastically mumbled into his shirt, taking a deep breath of his expensive cologne, and leaning into his unnaturally warm body.

“Wow oaf is a new one, thanks Doll”, he retorted but could feel his smile as he rested his mouth against the top of your head, his arms circling your shoulders. “I don’t usually time you in the toilet either, just worried was all, no offence but you’re looking a little peaky today”.

You could have stayed in that one spot all day, his gigantic body just completely dwarfing yours, like a boyfriend cocoon. This was until another cramp ripped through your abdomen, causing you to tense and scrunch your face to stop from audibly shouting. Bucky felt the change, his arms squeezing you tighter before easing himself back so he was able to cup your face, thumb stroking against your cheek.

“That bad, huh?”

“A little yeah. It’s fine, I’m due some pain relief now anyway, I’ll be ok”, it was a lie of course but you didn’t want to worry him or Steve, if it wasn’t obvious, they could be a little dramatic when it came to your welfare. Not that it wasn’t appreciated, but it was only food shopping and a meal then tomorrow, you could all stay in bed if that was what you wanted.

“You’re a bad liar”, he remarked, tilting your face up, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that had you momentarily forgetting about the pain, until a burning hot pain sparked through your head. It almost took your breath away more than the kiss, so much so you had to pull back and take a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you could do this.

“Come on Buckaroo, let’s get going”. Bucky didn’t say another word but kept his cool metal hand around yours, leading back to the car where Steve was waiting in the back. Bucky held the door open for you and then climbed into the passenger seat, next to Sam who was driving.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked you softly as you fastened your seat belt, his hand resting against your thigh which was only an invitation for you to cuddle into his muscular arm, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah”, you responded softly, trying to keep your composure and not flinch as dizziness rocked your body as the car began to drive.

Bucky shifted in his seat before turning, offering you a bottle of water and some pain relief. Offering your thanks, you swallowed the pills with half of the bottle of water, hoping it would also settle the nauseous sensation in your stomach. Leaning back into Steve’s arm, he turned to kiss your temple.

“Where to Boss?” Sam asked Steve.

“Home please, Wilson”.

“Wait no, Sam could you please take us to the store, we still need to go shopping, remember?”

Your eyes flicked between Steve and Sam as the latter looked back at Steve in the rear-view mirror, waiting for confirmation. “Baby, let’s just go home, you need to get some rest”.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to play it off, “I’m fine, and we need to go today we have absolutely nothing in the cupboard, it won’t take us long”. The last part of your sentence was more a hope for you and even though you’d love nothing more than to go home if you didn’t go food shopping today then you’d be forced to go tomorrow and there was no way you were leaving the house tomorrow.

Steve didn’t say anything, only nodded at Sam for him to continue to the shop, the hand against your thigh squeezed but you weren’t paying attention, closing your eyes to stop the nauseous sensation.

It didn’t take long to get to the store and once inside, you gave Bucky the duty of drink refills and Steve fresh fruit and vegetables whilst you’d go to the tin aisle and load up the shopping cart there.

Whilst walking up the second aisle, one of the worst cramps you’d ever experienced destroyed your insides. You could feel the contraction of your uterus, the pain so much that you had to double over and lean against the shelves, biting your lower lip to refrain from moaning in pain, aware that there were still other people shopping and didn’t want too many odd looks.

Trying to concentrate on your breathing, you’d squeezed your eyes so tight that now you were beginning to feel even dizzier, it was an endless cycle of pain.

A warm hand was suddenly easing under your head and shoulder, helping to turn your body until it was leaning into the much bigger and more comforting body of Bucky. You could smell his aftershave before he was even touching you. “Shh that’s it, lean into my body, I’ve got you. Keep taking those deep breaths, the pain will fade”. His words were softly whispered into your ear as he held his metal hand against the back of your head and the other massaged your lower back.

Even though you were hoping to keep up the strong exterior and play off that your period cramps were not as bad as they were, you could not deny the way Bucky and Steve treated you had the butterflies flying in your stomach.

Bucky was right, the pain did begin to fade to a dull ache that left you feeling uncomfortable but able to stand back up and resume shopping. “Sor-” you began but your boyfriend was quick to cut off your words.

“Don’t apologise, never apologise to me”, his sincerity was pulling at your heartstrings, and unsure why tears were suddenly springing to your eyes so you quickly looked to the floor to hide them.

“I hate being on my period, messing with my emotions, do you have to be so nice?” you tried to joke, causing Bucky to chuckle softly and kiss your temple once more, always so affectionate.

Another hand joined your spine, rubbing up and down as Steve stepped behind you, his breath fanning across your cheek as he gave you a quick peck before his spare hand lifted to capture the tears that were dripping down your cheeks.

“Go back to the car baby girl, we’ll finish this” Steve encouraged, keeping his voice low. With your position between the two mafia members, you’d momentarily forgotten that you were in the middle of a store, and not in a little private bubble but with the size of their bodies, you basically were.

Hastily wiping away the remaining tears, you tried to regain some energy, “no it’s ok, I can carry on and neither of you knows what we need to buy anyway”.

 Steve smirked down at you, “I’m sure we can manage and if we forget anything major, we’ll just send Sam to come and get it for us”.

“Are you sure-?”

“Yes! Now please go back to the car”, Bucky gave you a little nudge in the direction of the exit. You laughed at them both, they always managed to make you smile, even if it was for a brief second.

“Everything ok, boss lady?” Sam asked nicely as you climbed into the car as he sat waiting in it.

You were exhausted, lying across the back of the seats, automatically pulling your knees up to your chest like a ball, finding the position that helped most with the cramps, facing the back seat so Sam couldn’t see your face. “Yeah, just need a little break”.

It seemed your ordeal wasn’t over just yet as the next wave of cramps continued, and now in the comfort of the car, even with Sam, you couldn’t hold back gasps of agony.

Unaware of how much time had passed but soon the car was being filled with shopping bags and Steve was helping you to sit up, thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall again. “Let’s get you home”, he nodded to Sam as you fell back into the same position as before, but instead of resting his hand on your thigh, he lifted your top, unbuttoning your jeans to give him access to your abdomen.

Steve and Bucky, as well as being able to eat the same amount as a small village, ran at unnatural temperatures so as his warm fingers began to massage to pained area, you couldn't help but release a relieved groan.

As you returned home, you felt completely drained, limping to the toilet to try and feel refreshed as the boys emptied the car of the groceries which you were thankful for, even going as far as to empty the bags.

It was Steve’s turn to stand guard outside the toilet but unlike Bucky, he didn’t wait for you to be in there for a specific amount of time before knocking. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t think you want to see this right now”, you shouted softly to him, cleaning yourself up quickly before flushing the toilet. After washing your hands and splashing some more cool water onto your face, you exited the toilet to find him smiling kindly down at you, waiting patiently.

“You know I don’t care about those kinds of things”, he reminded you, holding out a hand for you to hold.

You accepted it, loving the feeling of his rough large fingers compared to yours as he slowly pulled you in the direction of the couch in the living room. “Yes I know that but it’s particularly bad today” you referred to your heavy flow. Neither Steve nor Bucky was at all phased by your period, reminding you on countless occasions that they are surrounded by blood a lot for their job and this was different, it was you, it was natural and all they wanted to do was help you.

“Again, I don’t care, honey”, he gently eased the two of you down, making sure that your legs were thrown over his two muscular thighs, head on his shoulder so that he could rest his cheek against you, his facial hair tickling your forehead slightly. Not that you cared as his arms encircled you, one supporting around your back, keeping your body against his, and the other rested on your abdomen again, continuing with the massaging.

Groaning with relief, your face nuzzled into him closer, hand gripping his crisp white shirt, creasing it slightly but neither of you cared. “That feels so good”, you praised him.

“Close your eyes, get some rest”.

This was exactly what you then proceeded to do. Only taking a matter of seconds of being in his heated embrace to fall into a deep sleep. A few hours later you naturally awoke, finding Steve with his eyes closed, for a second you’d suspected he had also fallen asleep but his fingers were still massaging away at your abdomen, even after all this time, surprised that he hadn’t got a hand cramp yet.

Kissing his chin to show that you were awake, your fingers gripped around the arm supporting your body, lifting to look at the time on his watch, seeing that it was nearly the evening.

Pushing on his arm, you attempted to stand but were stopped by his grip tightening, keeping you in his lap. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get changed, we’re leaving soon”, your voice cracked from having just woken up, fingers brushing your eyes to wipe some of the tiredness away.

“That’s not happening anymore”, he casually remarked, undoing his top button.

“What do you mean it’s not happening? It needs to happen, Johann made it very clear earlier that this needed to happen.”

Steve casually shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll deal with it, now relax, I was comfortable”.

You were dumbfounded by his confidence, your anxiety couldn’t cope when he was like this, it was much easier to just go for this meal than to try and sweet talk Johann around again. Trying and failing again to stand, you released a heavy sigh. “Steve please, I’ll be fine, it won’t take us long”.

It was at this time that Bucky returned, a towel around his neck and nothing on but his sneakers and a pair of training shorts, having come from the gym in the basement. You couldn’t help but look over his toned abs, littered with contrasting scars from his time in the Rogers mafia. “How are you feeling now?” He asked, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch.

“Better thank you. Can you tell him that we need to start getting ready soon? He’s come up with the disastrous plan to cancel dinner with Johann”.

Bucky sat back casually, the muscles in his abs flexing slightly, once again drawing your attention before you looked back into his smug blue eyes. “Firstly, I can’t tell the boss to do anything and you know that and secondly, I’ve already sent the message to cancel, so no changing it now”.

You moved around on Steve’s lap so that you could properly face the blonde who was watching you with casual arrogance knowing he had got his way or no way at all. “Why would you do that?”

“You know why I did that”, his voice remained calm as his eyes searched your face so you sat further back onto his knees and that’s when you felt it, something hadn’t felt right since waking up and this was it.

Glancing down, you noticed a dark patch on his navy dress trousers from where you’d been sitting. In your rush to leave the bathroom, you must have placed the pad in at the wrong angle on your underwear, and now you’d leaked onto your boyfriend's lap. Steve looked down, his face remaining the same, calm and confident.

“It’s ok”, his hands lifted to stroke your upper arms but you brushed them off. Your entire body seemed to heat up as the embarrassment set in.

“I’m..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t baby, it’s fine”, his casualness about the situation didn’t help your panic as you pushed off of his chest to stand, knees wobbling slightly as the inkling of another wave of cramps threatened to start from the sudden movement.

“Be careful mama, it’s ok-”, Bucky tried to reach for you now but you were so embarrassed, needing to get away from both of them for a minute, racing up the stairs as your heart pounding in your chest. Finally getting to the master bedroom, you were able to lock yourself in the ensuite toilet, taking off your now blood-stained jeans and underwear, cursing again at mother nature for letting her add to the list of bad things that had happened that day.

Now you were in the bathroom, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You didn’t have a change of clothes and you couldn’t go back out there because, by the sounds of it, both men had followed you up the stairs and probably getting changed. Your cheeks burst with heat at the thought of Steve’s ruined trousers.

Maybe you could take a bath or a shower, which sometimes helped with the pain but you weren’t able to decide as your uterus contracted with another cramp and it was probably the worst one yet. A deep groan slipped from your lips as you doubled over, leaning your forehead against the countertop, knees straining to keep you from collapsing to the floor and crawling into a ball.

The door handle turned as you made the pained noise, but seeing as you had locked the door, it didn’t open and therefore was swiftly followed by a knock. “If you don’t open this door right now, I’m breaking it down.”

Rolling your eyes at the possessive tone in Steve’s voice, you hobbled over to the bathroom door, clicked the lock and walked back to face your shame, standing in nothing but your shirt and bra.

What you hadn’t anticipated was Steve walking over the threshold and within one step was cupping your jaw, tilting your head back and kissing you fiercely enough that it took your breath away. It took a moment of shock to wear off before your hands gripped onto his wrists, holding him close, kissing him back with as much passion. Even trying to reach onto your tip toes to get closer.

Steve was quick to discard your shirt and bra, so fast you hadn’t even realised he was undoing the buttons until the cool air coated your skin. Pulling back from the kiss as his tongue teased, you pushed against his chest, “Steve wait-”

The mafia boss did not wait. No, he had his own idea in mind as his mouth was back onto yours, body pushing back until your lower back found the cool countertop behind. In another second, his hands were gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you until your bare arse was sitting on the side.

This truly snapped you out of the lust-filled trance he had captured you within. Pushing once more against his chest, your face dropped down so he couldn’t distract you with his devilish tongue. “Steve stop, I’m not wearing any underwear, I need to put a pad on or something.”

It wasn’t Steve who responded but Bucky who was watching at the door, now in a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt, casually leaning against the door frame. He was chuckling as he admired your body. “When are you going to get it Doll, we really and I mean, REALLY, don’t care about that stuff”.

Steve moved his seduction tour to your neck, leaving open-mouth kisses sending shivers through your spine as he inched his way up to the shell of your ear. “What am I going to have to do to make you understand that I don’t care about a little bit of blood, my love”.

You glanced down at the patch on his trousers, biting your lip before reminding him, “but I’ve ruined your trousers, and you’ve had to cancel the dinner because of me”.

Steve finally leaned back, resting his weight on his arms on either side of your thighs as his own blue eyes flicked between yours. “I’ve cancelled the dinner today because you’re in pain and I’m not going to force you to dress up in clothes that won’t make you feel comfortable or leave the comfort of your own home just for a fucking meal with Johann Schmidt. My trousers, they’re replaceable, they don’t mean shit to me, but you know what does? You. So please explain to me what I need to do for you to get into that beautiful brain of yours, what I can do to show that I really couldn’t give a shit about a little bit of blood”.

He always knew the right things to say, enough that you had to once again hide your face to hide the tears.

Your boyfriend had other ideas however as his hand teased up the sensitive part of your inner thighs. You knew his intended destination and reached out quickly to grip his wrist, stopping him, looking up with wide eyes, his words already forgotten about.

“Steve wait, I’m bleeding-”

He tilted his head in a knowing look, pushing easily against your grip until his fingers delved into your folds, brushing against your clit. You gasped, bodily jolting slightly. Steve lifted his other hand, wrapping it around your throat, pushing back until your body rested against the wall-length mirror.

“What did I say? I don’t care about a little bit of blood, now. Open”.

His tone went straight to your core, he rarely ordered things from you as your submissive tendencies meant you were rushing to do them anyway but with your anxiety holding you back, he decided to use his authority which instantly sent you into a horny mess.

“Yes sir”, you responded a moment later, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart that he undoubtedly felt beneath his fingertips at your throat, as you opened your legs wider to him, giving him better access.

“Good girl”, the praise was like music to your ears as you were forced to watch his face as his fingers began slipping further down until at your entrance, not wasting any time to slip two fingers in. You moaned loudly, swapping to hold onto the wrist that was holding your neck, not choking, just making sure you didn’t look away from him. His movements were slow, inching in and out, making sure not to hurt you.

You had to admit, that it felt odd, knowing that the wetness that could be felt wasn’t your normal juices but in face period blood and with the cramping, it wasn’t the most comfortable but as his fingers began to curl, increasing your pleasure, the pain reduced.

“Listen to me closely”, he continued. “You are going to watch as I fuck you with my fingers until you’re cumming. Then as I’m fucking you, Bucky over there is going to heat the shower and all three of us are getting in and he can then decide what he’d like to do with you there, do you understand?”

Your cunt was clenching violently around his fingers at his demands, of which every single one you wanted, too lost in the thought of his fingers curling into that beautiful spot within. “Yes sir!”

“That’s my girl”, he praised with a small smile now etched on his face as his thumb began stroking gently against your eagerly awaiting clit. There was now only a jumble of moans and mewls leaving your mouth now as your hips began rolling against his hand, chasing your high. As stated before, with each passing minute, as the pleasure increased, all the cramping began to cease until it was a recent memory.

“Open a little wider baby,” he encouraged and your legs spread automatically giving him more room to add a third finger. Your eyes dropped to his wrist, the sight scaring you for a minute as a dribble of blood was nearly the white sleeve of his shirt but with a quick squeeze to your throat, you glanced up as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your face. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“Fuck!” you cursed, riding his hand harder, gripping his wrist tighter, inching closer and closer to your orgasm. The addition of his third finger made your walls stretch to their limit, feeling full of his long, thick fingers and his thumb pressed harder.

You were about to open your mouth and ask if you could cum but Steve could already feel the tightening grip of your cunt, “cum for me, that’s it, good girl”.

Steve’s praises were always the most perfect sounding words from his gruff voice and your orgasm was suddenly pulsing through your entire body. If it wasn’t for his grip around your throat, you were sure you’d fall into his chest but he held you there firmly, not restricting your airways but just having control over your body.

He didn’t waste a second, using his blood-soaked hands to undo his belt and zipper, easing his cock out and then dragging your hips towards the edge of the countertop. Lifting your legs to rest on his hips, Steve’s cock pulsed as he eased it between your slit, breathing your entrance slowly.

“Please, please daddy!” you gasped out, losing all sense of control, needing to feel him now. Steve chuckled at the nickname, knowing your horniness was bringing out your submissiveness. To treat you well, he pushed his cock into your cunt in one quick thrust, causing your body to jolt to the side.

He held that position and in the background, you could just make out the sound of the shower being turned on by Bucky. Not that you were focused on that right now as Steve adjusted his position. With his red-stained hand, he gripped your hip in place whilst the other hand still held onto your throat, his mouth dipping so he could wrap his lips around your left nipple, sucking it fiercely into his mouth, biting on it gently before releasing.

At the same time, he began to ease his cock out of you, nice and slowly so that your walls dragged around him before slapping back in again. Steve teased both of your nipples, licking around the areola before sucking them back into his mouth.

Your entire body was alight with warmth and pleasure, every thrust was powerful and breathtaking and his wicked tongue had you almost seeing stars with how hard it was making your cunt clench.

“You’re doing so good for me baby” Steve complimented as he swapped breasts, the nipples now being slightly puffy from being sucked on. “Seeing you this desperate, I don’t think I’m going to last very long”, he admitted, but you didn’t care, you were already sensing the change in your body as the tautness in your abdomen increased.

Steve did too and released your nipple, only to kiss you fiercely, it was mostly tongue and teeth, trying to dominate your mouth leaving you even more breathless and dizzy. Just as you were able to orgasm, your hand gripped around the bigger hand holding your neck, squeezing it slightly and he understood the message.

His fingers gripped ever so slightly harder, making it a little bit more difficult to breathe, just as you came hard. Your walls clamped down around his cock so strongly that he too came, surprising himself as he shouted your name, hunching over your body and releasing your throat just as the waves began to calm down. You sucked in the air greedily, body almost completely limp from being fucked so hard and being in the same position for so long.

Your eyes felt heavy as Steve kissed along your throat where his fingers had been, softly caressing the area, distracting you from his cock slipping out of your sensitive entrance. Risking a glance down, it was a mess, where his hands had been were red hand prints and his clothes were ruined but at that moment, you couldn’t care at all.

Steve stood back, catching your eye, “I love you”, he whispered, sweetly kissing your lips delicately, almost like he was scared to hurt you even though he’d just been fucking the life out of you.

“I love you too” you responded softly, tiredness evident in your tone.

Steve finally moved away, unbuttoning his ruined shirt which allowed Bucky to take his place, now standing completely naked, his cock proudly hard between his legs. Gently, he lifted both of your legs around his waist, locking your ankles before moving your arms around his neck, his metal arm easing beneath your arse and his flesh arm around your back as he lifted you.

“Feel like another round?” Bucky’s jokingly asked with a soft smile, kissing your cheek and you mewled in response, trying to slip further down his body so that his tip bumped into your cunt. “Hold on, mama”, and with that, he gently eased his veined cock into your warm pussy, before walking into the warm shower that had you melting into his embrace.

The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, he didn’t thrust, knowing that’s not what you needed right now, just letting you feel full up at the warmth from the water to ease your used muscles, it was perfect.

“Want you”, your voice oozed desperation as you lazily kissed up his neck, clenching slightly around his member as your arousal began to peak, needing to feel the drag of his cock..

“I want you to but I think someone tired you out”. You groaned, frowning at his words but putting no effort into moving, feeling too lazy and fucked out of your mind so decided on a different tactic.

“But I’d feel so much better if you fucked me too”.

Bucky laughed as Steve joined the two of you in the shower, luckily it was purposefully built so that the overhead shower covered all three of you.

“Are you trying to manipulate me into fucking you, sweet mama?” Bucky asked against your shoulder.

Smiling against his skin, you tried to act nonchalant, “no I’d never do that”.

As you finished your sentence, your back eased against the shower wall as Bucky held you there, readjusting his arms slightly to grip your hips, his face now hovering over yours, a cheeky smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure you would never do that”, he sarcastically responded as he began to roll his hips, thrusting his cock very slowly in and out of you.

Once again, these men knew you so well, thankful for the slow speed as your cunt constricted harshly around him with how sensitive it was. It felt so good as he took his time, holding you close, every part of your body touching his as Steve washed behind him, smiling at the sound of your desperate noises.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bucky asked, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Yes sir, you feel so good”.

Bucky kept up those long slow paces for a while, Steve even began to grow hard again and found himself wanking off watching the two of you. Every thrust of Bucky’s cock had a pathetic mewl or moan escaping you, it was perfect as you held desperately to his shoulders, lazily kissing him until the sensation changed.

“I need to cum sir” you quickly breathed out but Bucky had other plans.

“Not just yet mama, you’ve got to hold it for me”. Your eyes filled with panic, looking at his as your brow furrowed, mouth gaping open.

“I- I can’t”.

“Yes you can, you’re a good girl and only good girls cum when they’re supposed to, just a little bit longer”. You could have cried as you gripped harder to his muscles, probably painfully so but he never said anything, just continued with the same slow fucking. You tried to relax your muscles and distract yourself from him but his cock was hitting all the right spots and it didn’t help matters when Steve suddenly grunted from behind Bucky as he came,  his cum spurting out and into the water.

“Please!” you had to plead now, closing your eyes as the feeling of orgasm was so overwhelming.

Bucky grunted loudly and you could feel his cock pumping inside of you as he finally agreed, “yes, cum for me!” and at the same time snapped his hips hard into you. Your whole body went rigid, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him in waves of utter perfection.

It took a couple of seconds to calm down, Bucky’s half-limp dick sliding out and a gush of Steve and Bucky’s cum followed, now tainted pink by your period but you definitely didn’t care anymore.

Thankfully, Bucky wasn’t just ready to put you down but you would have most likely just sat on the floor, not trusting that your legs were strong enough to hold your weight. So both Ssteve and Bucky helped to wash your body with soap, being careful of the sensitive area between your legs before turning off the water and stepping out.

Whilst Bucky and you were first in the shower, Steve had cleaned up the mess on the countertop and had prepared a fresh pad, underwear and pyjamas for you to get into afterwards. As the three of you climbed into bed, you could honestly say you’d never felt this cosy before on your period.

Laying your head against Bucky’s chest, Steve sat beside you and scrolled through his phone, reading to order some takeout. The second-in-command kissed along your hairline, his fingers locking with yours as he asked, “how's the pain now?”

“It still aches but it’s a lot better than it was, thank you”.

Steve leaned over and kissed the back of your shoulder, “good, I think we should make this a monthly occasion”.

Your used cunt clenched at that thought and you had to bite your lip from moaning, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him, “me too”.

[handweavers]

"‘Trans man’ remains the preferred identity for Malaysian individuals who were Assigned female at birth but live their adult lives as men. The jettison-ing of pondan, pak nyah, wanita keras, tomboy and pengkid in favour of ‘trans man’ likely serves as a ratification of personal-communal empowerment and a repudiation of derision. It is even more likely that ‘trans man’ reflects a deep-seated desire to imitate and participate in ‘collective identifcation’, notably that which is cultivated in North American (and European) contexts, ‘in order to demand rights, equal citizenship, and welfare’ among other goals in Malaysia. This is hardly surprising. Technological advances facilitate unprecedented accessibility to copious resources on transgender issues and imagine a global transgender community in borderless solidarity. Travis S. K. Kong points out however, that ‘globalization is an uneven process that reproduces spatially uneven development, and the flow of capital, commodities, people, images, and ideas is never equal among locations’.

The Malaysian trans man thus experiences unequal and unstable access to the bounty of globalisation due to local limitations in education, economic means, social and cultural capital, class, ethnicity, religious affliation, educational levels, infrastructure and health services. He continues to be experience ‘disjunctive modernities’ which exhibit ‘irreducible plurality and local specifcity’, thus dispelling the myth of trans(national) homogeneity in transgender identity. The trans men I interviewed interpret their life stories through the rubric of local contexts that dispel any suspicion of a mere mimicry of western-styled transgender identities. Malaysian re/mouldings of ‘trans man’ speak to ‘experiences of multiplicity in gender identifcation … embedded within specifc social, cultural, and interpersonal contexts [that] create altogether new, emergent forms of experience and identity'."

— J. N. Goh, Becoming a Malaysian Trans Man

[star-anise]

The thing about "parents' rights" and "protect the children [from hearing that other ways of life than ours are possible and okay]" is that it is literally, in the purest sense of the word, patriarchy.

The word literally means "rule by the fathers". We're generally used to hearing it describe how adult women can be dominated by adult men. However, that's not where patriarchy ends; feminists have been less eager to address how within that system, women can exercise power and domination of their own through the traditional gender roles of motherhood. Their maternal rights to power and dominance may have traditionally been lesser than paternal ones, but they were never less than their minor children's. Even single-mother or female-only families can be, in this sense, patriarchal.

Patriarchal families are a complex system that grants parents complete legal and practical control over nearly every aspect of their children's lives. The patriarchal family controls where the child lives, who takes care of them, what rules they have to follow, how they are educated, who they associate with, what healthcare they receive, what religion they practice, and whether they can work or control any money they earn or that is given to or for them.

Normally discussions of patriarchy are a lot more abstract. But right now it's very concrete and real: we are fighting to limit the family's control over children on issues where we can observe that families sometimes tend to make decisions that are bad for the children's welfare or that disrespect their human rights.

Whether a minor child can get an abortion. Whether they can receive gender-affirming care. Whether it's okay to lie or coerce your child to ensure they follow your religion. Whether they deserve to be educated about factual histories or scientific theories that are necessary to understanding the world around them. Whether they deserve to learn accurate, age-appropriate information about consent, setting boundaries, how their bodies and the bodies of other people work, what a normal range of gender and sexual identities look like, what healthy or unhealthy relationships look like, and what sex is, how it works, what its positives and negatives are, and how they might navigate the world, whether or not they ever want to have it.

Hell, on some levels we're still arguing about whether it's okay to hit your kids, or whether children have the right, similar to the rights adults have, not to be assaulted or abused.

Because there are a LOT of people who say: No. Parents should have 100% control over any or all of those issues. If the parent says no, the child is not allowed to do or have any of those things, and nobody else should be allowed to interfere and provide them to the child without their parents' consent.

Pointing this out often results in parents saying, "Oh, so you want just ANYONE to be able to go up and talk sex with kids? You want kids to be able to decide to jump off cliffs with nobody stopping them???" As though parents are the single protective force in the universe, the only thing standing between their child and the ravages of absolute chaos.

On the contrary: most of the time the argument is for children to receive care and guidance from adults who are monitored to ensure they treat children in safe and appropriate ways, who have spent many years studying the best and most rigorously tested of our collective understanding of how to prepare children for happy, healthy lives.

And we are arguing against people who believe that the only important qualification needed to refuse children that kind of care is to be ranked above them in their family hierarchy.

In conclusion...

Fuck the patriarchy. Children have human rights too.

[coochiequeens]

This should not have taken so long

Trans women who have hurt or threatened women or girls will not be held in female prisons unless there are "exceptional" circumstances, new guidance states.

The Scottish Prison Service (SPS) policy follows a public outcry after a rapist was sent to a women's prison.

Isla Bryson raped two women while known as Adam Graham.

The Scottish Conservatives said the new policy was "subjective" and "unacceptable".

The latest figures show there were 23 trans prisoners in Scotland from January to March this year.

They included 19 trans women, seven of whom were in a women's prison, and four trans men - one of whom was in a male prison.

Under previous guidance drawn up in 2014, the prison service allowed prisoners to be placed in facilities matching their gender identity, rather than their sex at birth, providing accommodation that "best suits the person in custody's needs".

This was reviewed and in February, following the Bryson case, it was updated to say no newly convicted or remanded transgender prisoner with a history of violence against women would be housed in female prison facilities.

Under the new policy - which will come into force in February 2024 - a trans woman would not be allowed to move into the female estate if they had been convicted of, or were on remand awaiting trial for, a crime that harmed a female - unless there was "compelling evidence that they did not present an unacceptable risk of harm to those in the women's prison".

These offences include any that result in suffering to a female, such as sexual offences, murder, assault, abduction and intimidation.

Those who have changed their legal gender can also be housed in accordance with their sex at birth, "if it is considered necessary to support people's safety and wellbeing".

The policy states: "Only when staff have enough information to reach a decision that a trans individual can be safely accommodated will they be placed in an establishment which matches their affirmed gender."

Trans men will be admitted to the female estate, but those who have committed crimes against women may be kept separate from other prisoners if it is "deemed necessary" to "keep women in custody safe".

The new guidelines also allow officers to search inmates regardless of the inmate's "affirmed gender" or sex assigned at birth, "if it is necessary to keep the individual or staff safe".

Risks carefully managed'

Teresa Medhurst, chief executive of the Scottish Prison Service, said if a trans woman's offences were historic and low level, they could be moved to the female estate, but she stressed that would be exceptional.

She said all prisoners were "treated with dignity and respect, with their rights upheld, and any risks carefully managed".

"The position, whilst it is still individualised, will ensure that those that have a history of violence against women and girls and present a risk to women will no longer be placed on admission in the women's estate.

"I am content that everyone who is a transgender individual is located in the prison which best suits their risk and needs profile."

She added that she was confident the new policy would address public concerns surrounding trans prisoners.

The Scottish government's Justice Secretary Angela Constance said the new policy protected the "safety and welfare" of staff and prisoners, and the "rights of transgender people".

She said: "SPS has considerable expertise, as well as a duty of care for the management of people in their custody, and this policy upholds its responsibilities to deliver safe, secure and suitable services for all."

Scottish Conservative justice spokesman Russell Findlay MSP said the new prison policy was "unacceptable" and put women at "even greater risk by further eroding their fundamental right to single-sex space".

"They say that male prisoners with a history of violence against women or girls should be allowed in the female estate and will only be blocked if they present a risk, which is completely subjective."

Lucy Hunter Blackman, from policy analysts Murray Blackburn Mackenzie, said any new policy in Scotland should not "talk narrowly about the potential risk of a physical or sexual assault".

She added: "It needs to recognise how the presence of someone male might impact upon group of vulnerable traumatised women, held in spaces from which they cannot escape."

[mazikeenhyde]

Less than a Minute - Part 3

WARNING – 

A Poly!Judgment-Day fanfiction containing themes and mentions of DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, LONLINESS, PANIC ATTACKS, SOME SMUT, ANGST, SADNESS, ALCOHOL etc 

Overall, I’m just trying to make you all cry… again >.< 

READER X JUDGMENT DAY – POLY – Rhea, Damien, Finn, Dominik x READER- Written in  first person (Reader Female)  Italic font – flashback, speech or memories

Less than a minute – Part 3

The silence in the air was deafening, the early morning hours of pre-dawn had bought calm to the city. The streetlamps had almost all gone out, leaving the roads lit only by clouded starlight. 

By the time Finn and Damien had returned to the Hotel car park the rain had eased off, now nothing more than a gentle patter on the streets remained. 

Pulling the car in and shutting off the engine Damien took a deep breath; he looked over to Finn whose demeanour resembled nothing like his normal self, now only a broken and tired Prince was left. Offering only a half smile, Damien ran his hand around the back of Finns head and down his cheek. 

“Rhea will find her. I promise” Damien’s voice was low; the hurt was there but still he composed himself enough to offer support. 

Finn took a deep breath, sighing he fell back into the chair unbuckling his seatbelt. 

“I never should of left” Finn paused closing his eyes for a moment, “I should have stayed behind”. Finn’s voice was quieter than a church mouse now. 

“Prince, look at me” Damien said turning Finn’s face to meet his. “You know this isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault… Y/N would never of let you miss RAW. These things they just (*sharp inhale*) it takes time for someone to reach a point that they can’t find a way out. It doesn’t mean she won’t come back; she knows she is loved. Right now, Y/N is lost, and we just have to find a way to reach her.”

Tearing up Finn opened the car door and stepped out taking in a deep breath of the cold night air as he stretched out his arms above his head before letting them swing back down to his sides. Damien followed out quickly behind and met Finn around the other side of the car. Holding out his hand Damien gestured for Finn to take his. 

Damien pulled Finn towards him as they began to walk back towards the hotel, his arm wrapped tightly around Finn’s waist. 

“I hope Dom’s doing okay” Finn said as they hurried inside and out of the storm residue. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Mr Martinez, Mr Balor!” The hotel receptionist lept to her feet in a shocked daze as the two men closed the entrance door behind them. 

“I’m so sorry you just missed them, but if you hurry, they…” 

“Sorry love, missed who?!” Finn interrupted her, letting go of Damien’s hand and rushing toward the desk. “Two girls? Was it our girls?!” He asked. 

The receptionist looked at them blankly for a moment, “did you…did you not get the message left for you?” Her face full of panic and her words falling out at such a speed it all became a jumble of confusing jargon. 

“I’m so, I’m so sorry I, I thought someone had, someone had spoken to you, you see my manager said to me, he said he tried to call and, he called and...” 

Damien stepped up towards Finn slamming his hands on the desk to silence the woman. 

“MISSED. WHO.!?” He demanded. 

The receptionist took a breath to compose herself followed by a deep gulp, sensing the urgency of the two men in front of her she feared pissing them off any further. 

“The ambulance.” She spoke softly, trying her best to remain professional, though her voice still shakey. 

“Your, your friend, the one who was upstairs, a Mr. Mysterio?” she looked down to check the booking information on the computer screen. “The maids were umm, they were called to do a, a  welfare check. You see we’d had a, a noise complaint and…” Finn cut her off holding up his hand as his head fell and hung down low, he clung to the edge of the reception desk for stability, feeling his legs go numb. 

You could have cut the silence with a knife, the air became impossible to breath at this point as both men stood in silence, unable to comprehend the situation they found themselves in. 

“Where?...” Damien said, sharp, straight and to the point. 

Following one last sharp swallow she checked her note pad and looked up. 

“They were taking him to Bernstein University General, it’s just a few blocks d…” But before she could finish, they bolted out the door. 

Falling back into her chair the receptionist lent down to the mini fridge under the desk and bought a miniature vodka bottle out, necking the shot in one. 

“God I hate the night shift.” She stated to herself. 

--------------------------------------------------------

Rhea stood looking up at the two large doors before her. Every inch of her was frozen, soaked through to the bone from the rain. Make up half run down her cheeks, her skin was cold to the touch, her heart racing as it pounded heavily through her chest. Her whole body trembled as the light drizzle fell through the breeze, ever reminding her of the low temperature. 

But she was numb to it all. She couldn't feel any of it, not a thing. She could not feel the cold freezing her fingertips, she could not feel the pain in her chest from running for so long. She felt nothing in that moment...

Because there she was. 

There, she was. 

‘Oh Bunny...’ Rhea spoke softly, her voice breaking…cracking even as it drowned in the sadness of it all. 

There on the steps of the City’s Library Y/N lay, curled up into a ball, barley dressed for such poor weather and out like a light. Y/N body trembled as well, matching Rhea’s shivers in unison. Her lips tinged a soft baby pink and blue. Her conscious having clearly tapped out from the cold weather and exhaustion. 

Approaching her gently Rhea sat down next to Y/N and pulled her into her lap. Rhea clung onto Y/N so tightly as her breathing choked and she began to cry, unable to stop the heartbreak from pouring out of her soul as she quickly realised her jacket was back in the car. Trying to offer any warmth through soaked hugs she held onto her little love, ignoring the fact she herself was also close to being frozen through. 

“Trust you Bunny...” Rhea half laughed, trying to hide her broken heart as she sniffed up the rain droplets running down her nose. “You said it so many times, so many times. And we heard you… but we didn’t listen” She readjusted herself having Y/N now in a full cuddled embrace, protecting the pair of them from the persistent showers from above.  

“When we are at our saddest, when we are closest to tears, to that heartbreak.” Rhea paused to kiss Y/N head and catch her tear fuelled breath.  “It would take less than a few words, less than a hug or someone asking if you are okay…. it would take less than a minute to fall apart.” Rhea couldn’t hold it in anymore, tears cascading down her face. 

“So, you should always go somewhere no one can reach you, no one can ask you how you are doing, and no one can ever pry. The rules of the library are a matter-of-fact aye... you clever little brat.” Rhea clung on tight to Y/N unable to stop herself crying. 

“I made you a promise Bunny, do you remember?” She asked looking down at Y/N face that was laced in rain droplets and goosebumps. Planting a gentle kiss on her lips Rhea stroked her cheek watching closely as Y/N chest rose and fell with each sleepy breath. 

“I said I would never leave you” kissing Y/N forehead she held her close to her chest as the final streetlamp above flickered out revealing the soaked stars in the sky. 

“I’m here Bunny, I’ve got you. See? It’s just us, just us and the stars. We have all the time in the world” Rhea gently rocked Y/N in her arms as she looked up to the full moon. 

“I Love You, Y/N. For Now, For Forever, For Always. And For Every Minute.” 

To be continued...

[thozhar]

Indian tea production has been in severe crisis since the mid nineties largely due to neo-liberal structural adjustments in the Indian economy. The size of the tea industry, which is second only to China and accounts for 25 percent of global tea production, has made this a huge blow to the country’s agrarian economy. The industry employs 1.26 million people on tea plantations and two million additional people indirectly. As such, the economic crisis has had an enormous impact on the lives of local residents. In Kerala where I have been conducting research, there have been eight cases of suicide and twelve deaths due to starvation on tea plantations since 2001. Along with utter poverty and famine, tea plantation workers have faced increasingly unhygienic work environments, shattered social life/community relations, and withdrawal of the welfare measures previously enjoyed. The crisis punctured the isolated environments of the plantations and precipitated neoliberal reforms that closed down production in many areas either partially or completely. While many families remained on the plantations, large numbers of workers who had lived there for more than five generations were now compelled to seek work outside. Some went with their families to either their ancestral villages or regional industrial townships such as Coimbatore and Tirupur in Tamil Nadu. These plantation workers have now joined the ranks of the massive Dalit workforce powering India’s unorganised and informal sectors. In joining that pool of workers, Tamil Dalit labourers are exposed to aspects of a caste-ridden society from which they had previously been shielded. The situation of Saraswathi, a female retired worker in her early sixties, illustrates the dilemma and struggles of the workers who moved out the plantations.

— The hidden injuries of caste: south Indian tea workers and economic crisis by Jayaseelan Raj

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

The Blackwood Knight prt.7

ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫'𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔭 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 ℑ 𝔱𝔯𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬~ 𝔚𝔞𝔯 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 ℜ𝔲𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢

Description: Battles of the heart ensue out of battles between warring houses. Following a misunderstanding, The Blackwood Knight attempts to convince his lady of the depth of his feelings.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: female reader, angst.

Benjicot stared after his lady love's retreating skirts, horror struck at his own culpability in precipitating her despair. Torn between his desire to acquiese to her urgent entreaty for him to leave her and his pressing desparation to comfort her, she had disappeared from the clearing before he began to stride in the direction he had seen her flee. The fact that by following her he would be crossing from Blackwood firmly into Bracken land, exposing him to the threat of combat and perhaps death, did not enter his mind at that moment. Foremost in his mind was her tear stained face and look of betrayal, and the painful thought that he had caused both. Gaining speed now, despite the uneven downward route the forest had now taken, he held the hilt of his sword as he flew through the forest, his burgundy cloak flying behind him over his shoulder. 

His height advantage and lack of sartorial hinderance meant that he caught up with Y/N in minutes, and was further panicked to see that she was stumbling unevenly down the forest path, favouring one ankle over the other. Concern for her welfare and the pressing need to acertain whether she was hurt had him running to her and holding her left arm in his as he lifted her right hand, raising it around his neck.

Letting out a high cry of surprise, he moved himself quickly so that he was in front of her, bending so that he could examine her face.

"Are you hurt, darling?! Tell me where." He said urgently, holding her arms gently in his hands as he examined her for signs of injury. 

Pushing back with an effort that had her leaning against a tree, a pained expression on her face, she cried, "stay away from me, I don’t want your help."

Raising his arms towards her placatingly, as if approaching a startled deer, his face crumpling as if her words had been a blow, he took two wary steps towards her.

"I understand you're hurt and no one reproaches myself more than I for the misunderstanding that has caused it."

Snapping her head upwards from where she had nestled it in the crook of her arms against a tree, she retorted, "the only misunderstanding was my foolish belief that you could actually love me, not just what I could do for your territorial gain." 

Inexpressibly pained by her words and the thought that he had augmented her anxieties, rather than assuaged them, as he had hoped to do, he stepped forward quickly, ready to profess his love over and over again and to prove it in anway he could, bending before her in supplication, as he urgently took her hands in his. 

He paused, his expression growing panicked when she emited a cry when his sudden movement forced her to take a step back.

Her face growing pale, Benjicot immediately ascertained that it was her ankle she had injured. 

His concern for her pain taking precedence over all others he rose in one fluid movement, taking her left arm gently in his before she could protest and wrapping it around his neck, he lowered his neck slowly, reaching for her legs, which he swept carefully into his arms. 

Realising what he was doing, Y/N swatted weakly at Benjicot's chest, "let me down."

The demand was so quiet, he grew even more concerned at how much pain she was in. Lowering them both to a sitting position in a nearby tree trunk, so as not to hurt her further, he held her across his lap, looking down penitently into her pained face.

Speaking gently to her, he said: "I know you are angry with me, my love, and I am very sorry for it. I will explain all but for now I must determined how much damage there is to your ankle. Do I have your permission to examine it."

"I would rather you didn't, just put me down."

With a shuddering sigh, he briefly held his forehead onto hers before speaking even more gently.

"I know, and I would not impose my presence on you when it causes you pain, but I need to know how much damage there is. Let me help you."

Turning her head away from him, she closed her eyes and nodded sharply. 

Using his free hand, not holding her across him by her torso, he carefuly raised her skirt an inch, only as far as was needed to reveal her bruised, twisted ankle. 

Taking a deep breath, Benjicot delicately lowered her skirt back over the ankle and wrapped his arm underneath her legs once again, rising with her in his arms. 

"I am going to bring you home, but you must tell me of I move too quickly and it causes you pain, and I will stop immediately." 

Not receiving a response, he began to walk with measured steps in the direction of what he believed to be the path to Bracken Hall. 

Y/N's hand coming to press on his shoulder, he immediately stopped, for fear that he had caused her pain.

"You cant go any further, these are Bracken lands, you'll be killed."

Affecting a sly grin and jovial tone which was at odds with the deep pit of concern at her condition within him, he winked, "I'd like to see them try."

Seeing that his attempt at distracting her with humour was not well received, he dropped the pretence and looked down at her with all the gentle concern and desperation he really felt.

"In truth, my love, I do not care. My only concern is for you. I would encounter Bracken swords any day if it would mean I could keep you safe." Pausing to gaze into her eyes as he said this, hoping against hope that he could make her believe him if he willed it enough with his eyes. 

His words did not have the desired affect, as her lip wobbled and she turned her head away before whispering in an undertone. "I don't believe you."

Nodding dejectedly, he continued to walk. 

At some point, whether from the pain or not, Y/N had nestled her head onto Benjicot's shoulder as they made their way back to her ancestral halls, and he took comfort in the sensation, that she herself might still look to him for comfort and protection, even if she was angry at him.

A fork in the path led them into the line of four Bracken knights, all of whom drew their swords in recognition of the Blackwood house colours and insignia of Benjicot's tunic and cloak. Pausing, Benjicot addressed himself to the knights.

"I mean no insult. The young Lady Bracken has injured her ankle and was in need of assistance."

"More likely you were the cause of her injury, release the Lady at once."

Stunned by the veracity of their accusation, he nonethless responded equitably. 

"I will, as soon as I have delivered her to the safety of her halls."

Stalking closer, his sword still raised, the Bracken knight scoffed.

"And you think we will just let you pass? Deliver the lady to us at once and withdraw!"

Gazing down at Y/N, quickly taking in her distressed expression and the tightening grip of her small hand on his tunic, he determined his next course of action.

"I will withdraw only once I am sure that the lady is safe. How dare you point your sword in the direction of the Lady. Once I have delievered her to safety, I dare you to draw it upon me." His gaze darkended as he said this, and the tension radiating from both knights became palpable.

A voice entering the clearing broke through it.

"What is amiss?"

Turning to face the young future Lord Bracken, Aeron, the Bracken Knight nodded his head in deference before responding. 

"The bloody Blackwood has injured Lady Y/N and will not release her to us."

Turning with anger towards Benjicot, Aeron strode towards him. 

"If this be true, and you have injured my cousin, there shall be violence."

Benjicot gazed at Aeron steadfastly, relying upon his care for his cousin and good sense. 

"I would rather die than hurt the Lady. I mean no offence by crossing the border, I only meant to see her safe. If there must be violence, let it be so, but let me first deliver the Lady to safety."

Meeting Benjicot's gaze with his own quizzical one, he bent his head in the direction of his cousin when he heard her quiet voice.

"Don't hurt him, he was only helping me."

Nodding once in deference to her Aeron opened his arms in her direction before turning again to Benjicot.

"You may deliver her to me, I will return her safely to Bracken Hall."

Pausing only to gaze down at Y/N to gain her permission, Benjicot reluctantly and ever so gently delivered her across to Aeron's waiting arms." 

"Be careful with her" Benjicot stuttered out, making Aeron pause in the act of turning with his cousin.

"You can be assured of that."

"What shall we do with him?" Cried one of the Bracken knights.

"Nothing," Aeron returned, let him pass back to his own lands. 

Benjicot nodded respectfully towards Aeron, watching until Y/N had completely disappeared with him down the path, all the time wishing that she would look back at him, if only for the last time.

@lovebabe18-blog @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @drwho-ess @dancingbaek @aemondslove

[notchainedtotrauma]

His welfare queen names a collective of immoral, disloyal, dishonorable, unhusbanded, evil black women delinquents requiring state control, captivity, and defeat. He declared, "She has eighty names, thirty addresses, twelve Social security cards and is collecting veteran's benefits on four non-existing deceased husbands. She's got Medicaid, getting food stamps, and she is collecting welfare under each of her names. Her tax-free cash income is 150 000$." What is interesting is that while Reagan's welfare queen is clearly mammy's grandchild and jezebel's artificially inseminated baby, welfare criminals had historically and overwhelmingly been white males. Yet his descriptor became scripture, effectively tying black women and girls to evil, perversion, and socioeconomic perversion.

from Jezebel Unhinged: Loosing the Black Female Body in Religion & Culture by Tamura Lomax