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gretavanlace · 10 months

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Sugar II (part 5)

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, angst, language, dirty talk, digital penetration, etc etc.

So sorry for the wait…I’ve been so busy and I’m scatterbrained as it is. I love you all and appreciate your patience as always! My lovelies, you all own my heart ❤️ Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, I’ll add my taglist tomorrow, I promise. Tonight, I’m tipsy and in a turkey coma. xoxo

It’s early when your heavy eyes reluctantly drift open. Quiet. Silent. Save for the serene, rhythmic push and pull of his soft breath against the nape of your neck. In and out, in and out, like a whispered incantation sent to lull you into his placid waters.

Morning light is threatening to steal the darkness away, inching its way into the room, casting a muted, purple glow against the wall. You snuggle in closer to him and watch the moon prepare to fight the battle it wages ceaselessly. It loses to the sun again and again, and this morning will be no different.

How you wish the moon could win just this once. How you loathe the sun for refusing its slumber. How dare it steal this night away from you? How dare it force you to face the gravity of this life you’ve built without him? Of choice? Of pain either way?

Jake has insisted on sending the others along, promising he won’t be far behind. That he’ll take a car, or catch a short flight…vowing to appear on stage for sound check - the prodigal son returning to whichever arena is next on the list.

You hadn’t needed to hear the opposite end of the conversation last night to know that Josh couldn’t have been happy about it…but, even after all this time, you still know them both well enough to know that Jake’s heels were dug in and that Josh - knowing this, too - wouldn’t fight him too viciously.

“You awake?” His voice, gorgeously gruff with sleep, hushes against your skin just before his lips find a place there with a delicate kiss.

A hum rasps out of you as you stroke your fingers down his forearm, not trusting yourself to speak over the lump pulsing in your throat.

If he understands the reason for your quiet, he doesn’t let on, “God, how fucking perfect is this? You smell so good.”

He trails off, nestling in against you as his arms tighten their hold, tucking you right in until you can feel the drum of his beautiful heart tapping a steady beat against your shoulder blade.

“Do you remember the first time we woke up next to each other?” His lips graze across your bare shoulder gingerly as he whispers to you, calming your mind with his soothing cadence.

“Yes,” how could you ever forget? “It was the morning you told me you loved me. Then we went downstairs and Josh shoveled pancakes onto our plates until we were sick.”

His hand disappears beneath the sheets to feather along your breast..tickling over your nipple until it pebbles, “That was a beautiful morning with my beautiful girl, but it wasn't the first.”

Confused, you sift through memories rapidly. So many of them, and so many of them him…flashes of his face, so stunning and serene in his devotion, his voice, his laugh. Darkened eyes devouring you from above, owning you like a deity you are hopeless to deny, his hands, his heart, his love.

Suddenly, there it is - crystal clear as the spring you had visited that long ago weekend. The memory brings a nostalgic smile playing across your lips. You had all been so young then. So naive of what was to come. Untouchable laughter echoing off trees that had been standing, solemn and still, long enough to know it wouldn’t last. “The UP…camping at Indian Lake. You forgot your tent when we were packing up, and Josh had the most fun making fun of you about it because—“

He interrupts with a spot on impression of his twin, “Who the fuck goes camping and forgets their tent? That’s like—“

You chime in as well, “Going to the vet without your dog.”

“I woke up beside you and I just…” he falls silent for a beat and then marches on with a shaky breath, “You were sleeping so peacefully, so sweetly, like an angel - and he was out there by the fire causing chaos and frying eggs. I laid there beside you and pretended you were mine. Made up a little life for us in my head. We had three girls and a cat who sunbathed at their feet during tea parties in the backyard. They looked just like you. I loved you, and you loved me back.”

“Tell me more.” You urge so softly, you’ve hardly made a sound. “Tell me about our life.”

He cuddles in closer, cheek nuzzling into your tangled hair. “I buy you the most beautiful house you’ve ever seen. And it has a great big covered porch where we like to sit in the evenings. We hold hands on the swing and watch the girls make up elaborate games with the fireflies. Our youngest is the bossiest, and you say she reminds you of Josh. There’s a place in the side yard. I leveled it out just after we moved in so you could plant a garden, and I help you harvest tomatoes in the evenings because you always plant too many.”

“I do not plant too many,” your laugh is gentle, wistful. “I make salsa for your stupid brothers.”

“Yes,” he agrees, nodding along as he continues stroking over your chest, abandoning your breast for the thrum of your heart beneath his palm. “You make salsa for my stupid brothers. The girls complain and bargain for time when we tell them it’s time for baths, but you step in and order them inside because I can’t tell them no.”

“You’re no help at all.” You sigh, sinking into the soft domesticity of the picture he is painting just for you.

“Yes, I am.” He argues, kissing along your jaw. “I help with baths, and then I play them all the prettiest songs I’ve ever written for you until their eyes are hazy enough to drift away. And then I hold your hand some more down the hall, and I close our bedroom door, and I lay you down and remind you of how much I love you until you sound like all those pretty songs I’ve written for you.”

“Yeah?” You can’t help the girlish giggle that floats off your tongue. He turns you into liquid bliss so effortlessly, speaking to you like a lullaby until warm, worshipful devotion swells in your chest, leaving room for nothing but Jake.

“Yeah.” His tongue travels over the shell of your ear as he breathes promises into it, twisting and tightening your belly way down deep “And sometimes I remind you slow and sweet…sometimes I hold you like bone china and move gently, and softly, until you’re shaking and fluttering around me, all silk and velvet walls like flower petals. And other times, I give it to you nasty. Fuck you filthy, and dirty, and hard so you’ll remember who my pretty little fuck doll is…and you take my cock like a whore with my hand over your mouth so you don’t wake the neighbors.”

His touch remains far too innocent for the words dripping from his lips like salacious prayers. It’s still playing softly over your heart - perhaps just to feel the quickening of its beats, perhaps just because he has missed it so.

“Touch me.” you shiver as the plea rolls off your tongue, anticipating the way he will give into you, and the way it will feel when he does.

“I am touching you.” He’s burying his face in your hair, breathing you in, filling his lungs with everything he has missed so desperately.

“Don’t tease me.” There’s a pout edging its way into your tone, and he is positively weak for it. He’d like to think that you have never sounded this way for anyone else. He’d like to believe that he has never heard you sound this way…that you have never begged for him with such soft urgency on your tongue.

“Shh, sugar,” he soothes, and the way it slows your pulse like a drug…well, you can almost believe that nothing has ever been wrong with your world. You can almost believe that you’ve lived all of your lifetimes here in this room with him, wrapped up in the sheets, safe and so, so loved. “you know I’m gonna take care of my girl. You just close your eyes, baby, alright? Just close your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter shut as though he has willed them so, and then his fingers are winding the gentlest trail down your body, slipping like hot silk down your stomach, and then to your thigh to pull it to the side, opening you up for him.

“I think about this all the time.” he confesses, sweeping his fingertips against your entrance and then over your clit once his touch is slick and warm. “Lying with you. Talking with you in bed the way we used to. Feeling your hair tickle my cheek. Watching you sigh for me, wet and aching for me, for what I can give you…nobody else.”

“Nobody else, Jake,” you nod feverishly as he begins drawing delicate circles over your swollen clit. “Nobody else.”

“Do you think about me, too?” his mouth hovers over your pulse, tracing an S for his sugar against it. “When you’re all alone?”

His touch is picking up in pace, those goddamed fingers of his that seem to somehow vibrate, they know every inch of you…how to touch you. How to take you apart. How to play you. You are his favorite instrument.

“Yes,” it stutters out of you, inarticulate and clumsily, but he loves it all the more for it.

“Yeah?” there it is, that smug air in his tone that makes your entire body throb with want. “Does my sweet little girl touch herself when no one is around to see? Does my sugar call my name when she slips her hand between these pretty thighs?”

“Jake, please…” your grip has found its way around his wrist, tight and sure, to keep his hand where you so badly need it.

“Stop begging, baby,” he croons, pressing kisses against your temple, “I’m gonna take care of you. I’m gonna make you feel good. Gonna make you cum, soft and gentle, ‘cause you’re my beautiful fucking girl. And then you’re going to ride my cock filthy, fuck doll.”

A sound that you ought to be ashamed of claws its way out of your chest, feral and furious in your need as you rock your hips into his hand. His pace never falters, never varies, as he whispers praise and vulgarities into your ear, skilled fingers swirling and swirling and swirling over your clit until you’re right fucking there.

“Come on, pretty girl…” more kisses to your temple as adulation tumbles from his lips endlessly. “Give it to me, sugar, give it to me.”

It spreads itself out in your body like a heavy swallow of red wine. unfurling inside you like euphoric heat, curling your toes and prickling your scalp as it trips up your spine. It’s so delicate and light, his touch like a feather against your clit as it trembles and twitches…and just like always, he knows, and works you through it softly, gingerly, reverently, until the tide pulls back.

“You made a mess, baby.” he teases, whispering into the crook of your neck with a smile on his lips and his fingers now curling across the pillow of his tongue.

“Whose fault is that?” you pant back, working hard to chase down your breath.

“I’ll own making a mess of your pretty cunt any day, sweetheart…any fucking day.”

You roll your eyes without much conviction, for you adore his obscene prose “Poetic.”

He rolls onto his back, tugging you along for the ride until you are perched above and straddling him.

He looks like a fallen, arcane angel beneath you, with his hair snarled and knotted against the pillow, eyes clouded with lust and darkened with blown pupils, lips pink and tumid - parted and pretty.

“You’re beautiful.” you shake your head in wonder. He is exquisite. Ethereal. Flawless. Precious.

He shakes his head right back, cupping your cheek, “You’re beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful sugar. I have loved you forever and I will love you always.”

With your cheeks heating under his awestruck scrutiny, you bite down on your lip coyly…you haven’t forgotten that he likes a hint of innocence now and then. “Did I hear you mention something about riding your cock filthy, Jakey? Or did I misunderstand?”

His palm is wrapped around your throat in a breath, pulling your mouth down to his. He licks against your tongue with a menacing hum. “You wanna ride my cock, baby? You wanna fuck me dirty while I lie back and watch you do all the work like my good little girl?”

A shiver shimmies your shoulders as your gaze flutters away abashedly, inexplicably shy.

“Aw,” it isn’t taunting, he sounds genuinely starstruck by the bashful blush coloring the apples of your cheeks. “Look at my sweetheart. Does it still make you a little soft when I tell you what a good girl you are for me? You like that?”

You nod, and this time, when your teeth sink into your bottom lip, it isn’t contrived.

“I know, sugar…” he pets at your face like you’re fragile, made of glass and dear to his heart. “It always has. You are, you know? You’re my very good girl and I love you more than anything in this whole fucking world. Nothing even comes close.”

Emboldened and driven half crazy by the love he is wringing from his heart, you rise up on your knees and issue an order, which doesn’t make you a very good girl at all. “Put it in.”

A huff of wanton breath escapes him, and then, with one hand wrapped around his thick cock, and the other digging into your hip, he pulls you down and buries himself inside you.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart…” it’s a hitching groan that rattles in his chest. “Look at you, wrapped up sweet and pink around me. Pretty as a picture, aren’t you, baby? Taking this cock. So fucking tight. You feel so good.”

“Yeah,” you can’t manage much else as your nails dig into his chest for purchase, head tipping back as you begin to ride him fast and hard, forgoing an easy lead up…you need him too badly.

His tip, so thick and perfect, begins spoiling over the sweetest spot inside you when he angles your hips…knocking against it until the air is punching from your lungs with every downward swivel of your hips.

“That’s the spot right there, isn’t it, sugar?” he voice, rasping and strangled with pleasure drags you closer and closer. “Right there, huh? That’s where my girl needs my cock…right fucking there.”

“Yes! Right there…” you repeat, blathering on with your hands on your own tits, twisting and tugging at your nipples as your thighs burn and scream for mercy you don’t care to give them. “Right there right there right there…”

“Yeah? You want it right there?” his thumb drops to your clit as he drinks you in, savoring you as you work yourself into a frenzy above him. “You take it right there, pretty girl…you just fucking take it.”

You can feel him twitching and straining inside your clenching cunt, and you know desperate little spurts of precum must be steadily leaking from his cock…the thought only serves to make you coil around him even more viciously.

“Sugar,” there’s a frantic edge coloring his tone now. He’s close. “Please, baby…you’re squeezing me…so fucking…fuck, fuck…ease up, sweetheart, please. Relax that sweet little cunt for me. Baby, baby, baby…” he thrashes his head back and forth against the pillow, brow furrowed and tipped up as though he is anguished.

“No.” you’re wild and panting, sweating and clawing at his chest with unhinged need. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh god…” it hushes out of him, winded and ragged, like he’s afraid he won’t make it long enough to get you there. “C’mon, pretty girl, come on. Right on my cock. Soak it, sweetheart. I want you all fucking over me.”

“Fuck me back,” you’re clutching at his shoulders now, scrambling for purchase against his drenched, glistening skin. “Hard. Fuck me back.”

His hips begin driving up to meet you, hard and fast, slamming his cock into you over and over through gritted teeth and gutteral grunts of pleasure and agony as he fights his own release.

Arms up suddenly, he curls them violently around your shoulders, holding you still against his lap as best he can, but you continue to grind into him, working yourself back and forth over his cock, chasing and chasing and chasing that end you so badly need.

“Hold fucking still,” grits out through clenched teeth as your lips press and sway against his sweating forehead, “I’m gonna cum, sugar. Don’t move, don’t move!”

His palm lands hard against your ass in punishment for your disobedience, gripping and pulling at it, but it merely spurs you on.

“You said you wanted me to ride your cock filthy,” your words are airy puffs of taunting breath. “so fucking take it Jakey, take it.”

He doubles over into you, burying his face between your breasts and crying out into their rounded softness as he lets go inside you, painting you warm and wetter than you already were…biting and sucking, consuming you as if he wants to swallow you whole.

It’s your name, whimpering and keening out of him like a psalm that sends you tumbling along right behind him with a gushing pulse and a shaking inward pull of breath that exhales with his name to match your own still lingering on his lips.

A strange calm finds you both as you struggle to breathe wrapped up tight and tangled together in the ruined sheets and humid air. But it is a familiar calm…one that so often crept in between the two of you after you had lost yourselves the way you’ve just lost yourselves.

“No one,” his fingers tap down your spine and linger in the dimples that grace the base, “could ever make me feel the way you make me feel, sugar. No one. Ever.”

“Jake.” you sigh, and he hears a thousand words inside it.

“I know, baby.” he’s stroking through your hair now, pacifying you so all of that feverish energy will seep from your veins gently. “I know.”

The sun has bullied its way into the sky fully, washcloth he so lovingly swept over you now rinsed and folded over the bathroom sink, glass of water he carried in, sipped at and now lazily dripping condensation onto the nightstand.

Top sheet pulled over the fitted sheet in a half-hearted attempt to rectify the wrongs inflicted towards the bed, your bodies are twisted up below the soft, generic duvet.

“You’re going to leave, aren’t you?” He whispers, tracing his fingers along the bridge of your nose. “I can feel it.”

“What happens now, Jake?’ You stroke his nose right back. “I’m just going to walk away from my life and follow you around the world? Like nothing ever happened?”

“Yes.” He says it like it could all be just that easy, and how you wish that were so.

“It doesn’t work that way.” He’s a dreamer. Always has been.

“So, tell me how it works then, sugar.” He pulls you into a blink of a kiss. “You go back to him, and I go back to misery and that’s it for you and I? We wake up every morning for the rest of our lives wishing things were different? Aching for each other? You tell me how that makes fucking sense.”

“Because this is real life, Jake.” Do you even believe your own bullshit? You have to, right? “This isn’t some pretty little story you’re telling. We aren’t picking tomatoes in the garden.”

God, how you hate yourself.

“We could be though.” His promises would be so lovely to slip away into…if only it could be that simple. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “It could be so simple, sugar. None of this other shit matters. We matter.”

He can’t be argued with, so instead, you simply nestle your cheek against his chest and linger in this time you have left with him.

“Will you at least leave me your number before you go? So I can call to say hello every once in a while?”

He’s giving in far too easily. He’s lying. You know he is, and he knows it just as well. He isn’t going away, and he doesn’t plan on giving up.

He has decided to stand his ground this time around. This time, for you, he has decided to fight…

and god help anyone who tries to stand in his way.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @jakesgrapejuice @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake

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sapphirerogers · 6 months

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মনের মানুষ - Soulmate

[Steve Rogers x Indian!bengali!GN!reader

Summary: your heart is aching for a home that no longer exists. Steve finds you in the middle of emotional turmoil.

Warning: homesickness, childhood trauma if you squint, mention of political disturbance, fluff, cursing, Steve being an absolute sweetheart, Steve also getting the feels]

youtube

After the third round of knocking incessantly at your bedroom door, Steve huffed. He didn't want to intrude, in case you weren't decent or something.

"Sorry y/n," he muttered before twisting the handle, fully expecting to find it closed, unyielding.

His eyes widened, first in mild surprise at the ease with which he'd made it in: no locked doors. Then in shock, since his favourite person - you - was currently curled up on the floor, facing the sunset. Knees pulled up to your chest and tears streaming down your face as you whimpered softly now and then.

The next emotion was confusion at the music playing in the room - something that sounded like a folk song sung by a gravelly male voice in a language he didn't understand. However, he'd heard you speak or sing in it to yourself enough to know it was Bengali.

He joined you on the floor, quietly tapping your arm.

You turned your head to look at him, making no effort to wipe away the salty moisture on your cheeks. "I miss home."

Three words. Just three words from you tugged violently on his heart-strings, making him scoot closer and wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer. You let him engulf you, finding comfort in him.

He didn't bother asking any questions. He knew the answers. Unfair elections and totalitarian practices had completely destroyed the political opposition in India five years ago. You'd watched democracy fall apart slowly but surely within fifteen years. Your beloved state of West Bengal, safe from the ruling party till then, had been overpowered too.

You'd run. You'd wished you could stay and do something, be a patriot, but you'd run. Forced yourself to throw yourself and your best efforts into medical school, even if your heart had ached for a different subject instead. You'd clenched your jaw and survived five years of suffocating dictatorship (nobody ever called it that but that's what it was) and communal riots. Then, the moment you'd graduated, you'd packed your things and left your homeland for a stable future.

You hadn't taken anyone with you. Your family wasn't the best and you'd made the decision to go no contact with them while still in high school. You'd lied to them about where you would be living, promised them you'd call. At the airport, just before boarding, you'd sent your mother the final text you'd silently prepared beforehand, listing everything she'd done wrong and refused to make up for and why you felt wronged. You'd apologised for being so harsh, and for abandoning them, but explained that you needed to protect yourself and you couldn't do it while staying with them. Then you'd thrown away your phone.

It was for the best, for your best, but you still missed the carefree life of your early years. Carefree, not in the sense that you weren't being hurt over and over, but carefree in the sense that you were naïve enough not to realise you were being hurt. You were alone in this new environment. Yes, you'd found friends, you'd found Steve. But a part of you still felt lonely.

Steve knew all of this. He'd held you close the day you poured all of it out. And he held you close now as the homesickness returned.

"I'm a fucking coward," you sniffle. "I should've stayed and tried to fight. Spoken up. Done something. Said something. Anything. I didn't even try. Like a selfish bitch."

He pressed a kiss to your head, stroking your hair and shushing you. He'd save that conversation for later. Right now you didn't need a response from him, you needed to let your feelings out. He'd always be here to wipe your tears away and get you back on your feet.

You hugged him tighter, and he pulled you into his lap, leaning against the bed as he closed his eyes, focusing on the song playing on loop.

Weirdly, it felt like home. Nevermind that he understood nothing. There was something earthen and rustic about the song and its ambience, something that called to him. He thought of his mother. A little voice in him said she'd love this music too. He felt his own eyes water as well, and blinked to prevent them from spilling.

You turned in his arms a little so now your back was to his chest, and you both watched the sun go down in silence.

When you'd calmed down, he brought one of your hands up to his lips. "Do you feel like going out and getting some ice cream? Or brownies?"

You giggled - despite the surge of emotions earlier. "I'd love that. Thank you," you met his calm and loving eyes, genuine gratitude in your own.

"Of course, honey."

Minutes later, as you held on to him from behind while his motorcycle wove in and out of traffic, you felt some of the weight lifting off your chest. Life had been rough, but it was better now. You were better now. Safe and loved. You'd be okay, right?

You rubbed his arm softly. He found your hand and squeezed it three times at a red light.

Yeah, you'd be okay.

[AN: This is the direct product of me being homesick, while sitting in my hometown, and being terrified for the future. Steve is my comfort character so I wrote this solely to calm myself; this is the most self-indulgent piece I've ever written. I know most of you won't relate to this much, but I hope that for once, you can put yourself in my place and at least try to understand the emotions in this fic rather than agonise over the details which don't apply to you.

AN 2: India is quasi-federal in structural, meaning while there is a Prime Minister to govern the entire country, every state also has their individual Chief Minister and Cabinet of Ministers for the affairs of said state. The party in power at the Centre isn't always the ruling party in every state. West Bengal is one of such states where the part in power is different from the one at the Centre...so far.

Current affairs in the country are really bad. Abuse of legislation, silencing the national press, completely altering the Constitution, bribing the judiciary, rigging the polls - it's all happening. It's bad enough that the UN and even other countries have criticised the central administration here. This fic is me being super scared that what I mentioned here will actually happen. Elections are this month, and like many other civilians, I'm desperately praying it doesn't take a turn for the worse.

AN 3: The song linked above is the inspiration for the title. মনের মানুষ (moner manush) translates to "soulmate". It is one of the most popular Baul songs. Baul are a category of Bengali folk songs which have double meanings. Most songs, at first listen, appear to be aimed at a lover, however, they can also be meant for God. It depends on how you wish to interpret them. They're a highly respected part of Bengali heritage and can be easily identified by the sound of the ektara in the instrumental, a one stringed musical instrument.]

Tagging my desi friends:

@mainly-marvel @slut-for-henry-cavill @averageambivert

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x indian!reader #steve rogers x bengali!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x gender neutral!reader #steve rogers x gn!reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers comfort #Youtube

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sivavakkiyar · 3 months

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Speaking of which! (NDTV article):

New Delhi is preparing a grand welcome for all the South Asian leaders who will attend Prime Minister Narendra Modi's swearing-in ceremony on Sunday. PM Modi will take oath for a record third term on Sunday, and several heads of state will attend the ceremony, including Maldives President Mohamed Muizzu.

Relations between India and Maldives have deteriorated since Muizzu assumed office in November last year. During his election campaign, he often criticised India and demanded a complete withdrawal of Indian military personnel.

All Indian armed forces have left the nation and have now been replaced by civilians.

But India extended an olive branch inviting him to the swearing-in ceremony of PM Modi. President Muizzu expressed his gratitude to PM Modi for the invitation, adding that he would be honoured to attend this historic event.

"He also stated that he looks forward to working with the Prime Minister to further strengthen the close relations with India, noting that Maldives-India relations are heading in the positive direction, as would be demonstrated by this visit," the official release said.

This will mark the pro-China president's first official visit to India since assuming office on November 17 last year. Unlike his predecessors, who made the first port of call to New Delhi after assuming office, Muizzu had travelled to Turkey first and to China for his first state visit in January.

Ahead of his arrival in Delhi, a huge banner has been put up outside the Foreign Ministry which features both PM Modi and Muizzu.

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ausetkmt · 7 months

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The Battle of ‘Negro Fort’ – Inside America's Forgotten Slave Rebellion - MilitaryHistoryNow.com

A year after the Battle of New Orleans, runaway slaves armed by the British occupied a stockade in Spanish Florida. The so called “Negro Fort” became a mecca for other fugitives from Southern plantations. In 1816, the U.S. Army arrived to crush the settlement. (Image source: WikiCommons)

“The Battle of the ‘Negro Fort,’ marks a critical moment when the federal government took a decisive stance in support of slavery and its expansion.”

By Matt Clavin

THE TIDAL MARSHES of Florida’s Apalachicola River were still under the authority of the Spanish crown in 1816, yet the events that took place there would go on to become a forgotten yet tragic chapter in the long and bloody history of American slavery.

It was during that year that an army of fugitive slaves, armed with foreign weaponry and united by dreams of freedom, would fight and die against a legion of American troops and allied Creek Indians dispatched by a future U.S. president bent on their destruction.

The Battle of the ‘Negro Fort’ marks a critical moment when the federal government took a decisive stance in support of slavery and its expansion.

What would become known as Negro Fort actually sprung from the War of 1812, one of the United States’ most misunderstood conflicts. During the contest’s third and final summer, Britain landed hundreds of troops on Florida’s Gulf Coast in preparation of an invasion of the southern United States.

Still Spanish territories at the time, East Florida and West Florida were neutral in the second war between the American Republic and the United Kingdom. Yet, the uncontested arrival of British troops there suggested the local authorities had ostensibly sided with the redcoats.

Americans’ fears of a Spanish-British alliances only increased when a detachment of Royal Marines erected a sizeable fort on the eastern shore of the Apalachicola River in the Florida Panhandle. Commanders of the new outpost then called upon Native Americans and fugitive African American slaves from across the region to join the British at the fort and together take up arms against the United States. Eventually, more than a thousand Creek, Choctaw, and Seminole Indians, along with several hundred runaways from southern plantations, accepted the invitation.

Following the final ratification of the Treaty of Ghent in the spring of 1815, the British withdrew their forces from Florida. With their powerful allies suddenly gone, most of the Indians gathered at the Apalachicola fort returned to their homes. But the hundreds of fugitive slaves inside the stockade had no place to go and so remained at the abandoned British post. And with the fort’s massive earthworks, wooden palisades and stone buildings at their disposal, along with an arsenal of hundreds of muskets, swords, bayonets and dozens of cannon, the runaways chose to remain there come what may.

Under an informal system of government that can best be described as martial law, this militant black community organized daily for its defence. At the same time, it established important relationships with the neighbouring Choctaws, Creeks, and Seminoles, who provided food and other sustenance in return for weapons and ammunition.

Negro fort was, in a word, formidable.

One British officer who, following the Treaty of Ghent, set out to assist some of the fugitive’s former owners regain their valuable property offered a curt assessment of fort’s inhabitants.

“The blacks are very violent & say they will die to a man rather than return.”

In the coming weeks and months, Hawkins and a number of prominent frontier citizens and officials flooded Washington with reports of rebellious slaves and their savage Indian allies running wild across the southern frontier. The accounts were almost entirely exaggerated.

Although clashes between Indians and settlers on disputed lands throughout the American south were commonplace in the early 19th Century, aside from inspiring an exodus of fugitive slaves from the southern states into Florida, the Negro Fort posed no threat to the United States.

None of this stopped the commander of the United States’ southern army, General Jackson, from taking bold and aggressive action against the settlement.

Through a careful and calculating correspondence, Jackson ordered General Edmund Gaines, a hero of the War of 1812, invade Florida with 100 regulars, destroy the fort and return all of its black inhabitants to their American and Spanish owners. To ensure an American victory with as few friendly casualties as possible, Jackson secured the assistance of hundreds of Creek warriors by promising them a cash reward of as much as $50 dollars a head for every black slave returned to captivity.

Over the course of the next two weeks, hundreds of pro-American Creek warriors clashed with black rebels in the dense woods surrounding the fort, which at times descended into bloody hand-to-hand combat.

With American troops watching from a safe distance, the number of casualties went unrecorded—though it must have been considerable.

When a failed sortie by the fort’s defenders was repulsed, an American eyewitness suspected it was only a ruse.

“Many circumstances convinced us,” army doctor Marcus Buck wrote to his father, “that most of them determined never to be taken alive.”

With a pause in the ground fighting, American army and navy vessels on the river exchanged cannonfire with the fort’s defenders for several days.

The bombardment continued to the morning of July 27, when a heated cannonball, or “hotshot,” fired from U.S. Gunboat 154 flew over walls of Negro Fort’s massive inner citadel, landing directly on a gunpowder magazine.

The response of American officials to the destruction of Negro Fort was muted, largely because the entire campaign was illegal. After all, with neither congressional nor executive authority, the United States armed forces had invaded a foreign territory.

By contrast, southern slave owners hailed the battle’s outcome as the dawning of a new day. A Georgia writer expressed this view when reporting “the capture of the Negro and Indian Fort, on Apalachicola.” He explained that because of the efforts of his “brave countrymen,” the southern and western frontiers were now free of the “predatory incursions” posed by black and Indian bandits “whose numbers were daily augmenting; and whose strength and resources presented a fearful aspect to our peaceful borders.”

Within two years of the Battle of Negro Fort, Jackson and the American army again invaded Florida. The resulting First Seminole War would be the first of three wars between the United States and Florida’s black and Indian population who simply refused to submit to their northern American neighbours.

Though Negro Fort survived for only a year, its memory endured in the hearts and minds of hundreds of its inhabitants who had abandoned the outpost prior to its destruction. By fleeing to the Florida peninsula and aligning with the Seminole Indians, most of these former slaves carved out difficult but free lives on the outer edges of the American republic.

As many as one hundred of them were even more fortunate, finding not only freedom but peace and tranquility in the West Indies. By boarding trading vessels and escaping to the Bahama Islands several years after the Battle of Negro Fort, they completed the improbable journey from American slaves to British subjects.

#The Battle of ‘Negro Fort’ – Inside America's Forgotten Slave Rebellion #florida #negro fort #negro abraham #Freedmen #seminole indians #florida enslaved #history of slave settlements in florida

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astoldbyaja · 1 month

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The Pink Blossom- Ch.25

Ujio fell asleep against me but after a moment he rolled over on his side. I stared at him for a long moment taking in his sleeping form. How beautiful he truly was. He reminded me so much of the red Indians Nathan had come across. To the white world, men like him, like the red Indians are savages because they do not bend to the will of the oppressors. They refuse to convert to the religions forced upon them. They will die fighting for their independence.

I wished so much that my people could do this. I wished I knew what tribe I was from and if we ever fought strongly against the whites before they took us on boats. Slowly I got up and began to slide my kimono on. I remembered when he first helped me put a kimono on. I was so nervous while I felt his hands sliding the mysterious thing on me. I remembered how he taught me what things were and how to pronounce them in Japanese.

I slowly moved to my feet and quietly left his room. I was probably very stupid for doing this, but I had to try. I had to do something to stop the bloodshed before it continued. I moved from the lodge after taking a little food, and a pouch of water. I managed to take a horse from the stables. With gentle pets to its snout, the horse remained quiet as I pulled it from the stable. Quietly he moved through the village until I was finally at the entrance. I turned and looked back to the village thinking yeah, I may die going back to the emperor. But I felt Ujio’s strength in me, and I looked down at my stomach knowing what was at stake, but now I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing waiting as my family died on the battle field. I mounted the horse quickly and took off into the forest.

The wind beat against my face as the horse moved like the wind itself. I couldn’t fail. I wouldn’t.

Ujio’s POV

My eyes snapped opened finally as the sun entered the room. It was time. I already felt adrenaline moving through my body at the thought of war. I was ready to take life, my sword ready to taste blood. I turned to look upon my love one last time, only to see an empty spot behind me. I winced and sat up, my hair resting over my shoulders. Gone? I looked up.

“Grasuh!” I called out. I got no answer. My body stiffened as I stood up now not liking this silence. I slid the door of my room open. “Grasuh!”

I looked down in thought some. Maybe she had left to meet Algren to say goodbye? Something in the pit of my stomach however told me this was not true. I grabbed one of my montsuki and hurried to put it on. I moved from my lodge and looked around looking like a mad man. Men were preparing for battle as I should have been as well. But I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t put on my armor knowing that Grace wasn’t here. I ran through the village until I was at Taka’s house. She was coming out when I approached. I bowed and looked at her worriedly.

“Where is Algren?” I asked quickly. Before she could respond, the American was coming out and he looked at me with concerned. “Grace is she in there?” Now his body tensed, eyes growing hard.

“No, she is not with you?” he asked. I shook my head. Taka looked at Algren concerned before we all turned to see Nobutada approaching.

“One of our horses are missing. We need all of them for battle!” he said heavily upset. My eyes widened in complete shock for the first time as I looked at Algren who looked down at me.

“She went back to Tokyo.” he said. I turned back toward the entrance of the village. No. Grace wouldn’t go back to the city by herself knowing full well the dangers she would be on by herself, not while pregnant! Omura knew her face.

“She will be killed!” I snapped making a move to pass my lord’s son. I was going to take a horse and go after her before it was too late. Immediately, Nobutada grabbed my arm quick.

“We have no time for this and we can’t spare any men. War is coming and we can do nothing for her!” he said with regretful eyes. I looked at him with a heavy glare before looking out in the distance. I had to do something.

Grace’s POV

The journey seemed long and I could only thank God for being able to make my way back into the city. Everyone was watching me stunned and completely disgusted. I was in a kimono, hair down and face dirty and caked with sweat. I hadn’t stopped really unless it was to care for my horse. I finally got off it and began to walk toward the palace ignoring all who stared at me. Soldiers eyed me with winces and glares. I could not let their stares of hatred stop me now. I kept my head low and just kept moving. When I reached the entrance of the palace the soldiers stopped me.

“HALT STATE YOUR BUSINESS!” one of them said. I swallowed and raised my head.

“I have urgent news for the emperor.” I exclaimed, and the two men looked at each other and then looked at me pointing their guns at me. I held my arms out.

“What news could you possibly hold?” the other soldiers asked. I swallowed.

“I know… all the strategies from the samurai… I was taken prisoner and managed to escape. I want to help by speaking to the emperor…please. He and I have spoken before.” I told. The two looked me over some, and I swallowed hard as they muttered to each other.

“You’re the African slave of the American traitor!” one of them accused and I nodded swiftly keeping my hands raised.

“Yes, and I escaped his capture so that I may tell the emperor the samurai’s plans please! I want to help!” I begged dropping to my knees before them. They looked at me stunned as if not knowing what to do but quickly they raised their guns upward and grabbed both my arms and pulled me inside. I swallowed and let them take me, leaving my horse for someone to take.

The soldier’s dragged me through the halls of this palace motioning for others to get out of their way. My heart felt on fire and my brain was thinking without me really even trying. Finally, I found myself in the familiar courtroom where I had faced Emperor Meiji before and now here we were again. Everyone who saw me gasped. Women with painted white faces covered their mouths with the sleeves of their kimono. I was pushed to my knees before the emperor who stood up in complete shock.

The two soldiers bowed.

“Enlightened One, this slave says she knows about the samurai’s plans for the battle!” one of the soldier’s reported. Immediately, I saw Omura step forward yelling in anger.

“How dare you show your putrid face before our emperor! My lord she is a traitor and this is obviously a trick by Katsumoto and his white American dog!” he explained quickly. My teeth clenched as my fingers curled into fists at the accusations.

“Then Katsumoto isn’t a smart man!” I yelled out, and now Emperor Meiji looked at me with wide eyes as well as everyone else did as I spoke their language. “To think he can trick his own student by using a mere African to help a white man’s war!” I looked at Omura with viciousness in my eyes. Omura looked like he had seen a ghost.

“How dare you even speak the language of our great people from your cursed monkey lips! I will have you beaten and hung outside this palace!” he threatened. Now it was silent as light footsteps could be heard and now all of us just looked at Emperor Meiji as he just stepped forward walking across the room. Everyone bowed and his soldiers moved out of his way. Omura stuttered in response trying to form a sentence so he could try and manipulate his demands on the emperor, but when Meiji stopped and looked at the husky businessman with a silent glare, all Omura could do was close his mouth and bow his head.

The emperor watched him for a moment before he continued to approach me and when he was finally standing above me, I shook a bit in fear before slowly bowing my head to the ground.

“I thought I made my words quite clear Omura… this African is my guest.” he announced, and finally I looked up at him feeling my eyes water at his words. He held his hand up and motioned for me to rise. I finally leaned up and did my best to get to my feet without completely falling back over. We stared at each other for a moment and he finally turned.

“Come.” he said in English and began to walk away. I swallowed hard and looked around at the silent court room who still seemed to be in awe at their leader. But nonetheless I followed behind him. We walked the familiar halls together, and I could still see noblemen and women bowing at the emperor before looking at me in shock. Now that I think about it, maybe I was the first African they have ever seen.

I remembered Emperor Meiji did not want me to walk behind him.

“Do you still wish for me to walk behind?” I asked lowly unsure if I was even allowed to speak. He finally paused and turned to me, his face serious.

“Your American helped Katsumoto escape from prison and that is punishable by death, I could sentence that punishment onto you…” he said. I stared at him for a moment tensed at his words but nodded slowly.

“Yes, he did and yes you could.” I replied. He looked me over.

“Are you alone?” he asked. I nodded.

“Yes.” I told.

“How can I believe you?” he asked with authority, and I raised my hands up to him.

“Katsumoto wouldn’t send me to you as a strategy to hurt you or your people. I’m just a slave in your eyes you could kill me at any moment and it wouldn’t change things.” I replied. He nodded quite quickly at my words facing me.

“I could kill you right now, and it wouldn’t change things.” he replied and nodded. “So why are you here?” I inhaled gently and looked down for a moment.

“If you offer still stands, I will gladly stay in your palace for I understand you now. In America I have no rights, and the whites have done all in their power to break my people, to break our spirits. But that does not mean we are incapable of learning things and seeing when we are being used… right now the men you do business with do not care about Japan. They only care about pleasing other white businessmen. I believe I can teach you what I know, because no one would ever expect the knowledge you get to be from a colored woman. If my words weren’t true, then Omura would not have been so easily threatened by me.” I replied. Emperor Meiji raised his head some in thought of my words as he looked away now some in thought.

“And what knowledge could you possibly possess?” he asked. I inhaled some.

“The world wants you to change- wants Japan to change. America want you to live a life like them… but you’re not America. You are Japan. You are an existence of people that have a culture that I was never allowed to grow up in even in my own world. You know your family history. My history was beaten and whipped and raped from me and my people. You have a lot of people depending on you, but do not forget your history, the culture that made you who you are today.” I replied. His eyes stared into me intently for a moment before closing his eyes now and looking down once more.

“And for your service here, for you giving yourself up… you want me to spare my teacher and more importantly your samurai love.” he said. My body stiffened, and I looked down some.

“I want peace for everyone.” I replied, and he scoffed softly.

“Now you sound like a white American. Lying now.” he said. I shook my head.

“Have you ever given up something important, something you loved because you knew it was the right thing to do for the good of everyone?” I asked. No. “The samurai is willing to give up their lives for what they believe in. Your teacher is willing to serve you in this way.” He gazed at me now before looking away with guilt.

“I cannot give you this. All of Japan wants the samurai gone.” he replied. I nodded slowly.

“Do you want the samurai gone?” I asked, and he looked at me stunned like everyone else again that I can speak their language. I wanted to show him, I wasn’t a mindless animal to be underestimated. I wanted to show him that I took this time to learn of his people as he learned of mine. I took a step toward him. “Kastumoto wanted you to lead with not only your mind, but your heart as well. He did not want you to forget the foundations of your world.”

Emperor Meiji winced and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before sighing deeply and looking at me.

“Giving your freedom to me will in some ways make you a slave again.” he told, and I just stared at him intently knowing that to be the truth. But I slowly shook my head looking down at my stomach and placing my hand gently above it. He looked at my stomach for a moment eyes widening more as I looked up at him.

“I would give up my freedom for all the samurai in a heartbeat as I know they would give up their lives for me.” I answered strongly. Emperor Meiji walked closer to me, looking me over. I just looked up at him for a moment but slowly he shook his head, his eyes already showing me he could not stop what was to come.

“The imperial army has already begun to march. I cannot pull them back now. I do not wish these deaths on my teacher or my countrymen, but this rebellion will stop one way or the other.” he said. I closed my eyes softly and looked down in defeat now feeling the tears push through my eye lids.

“I… have still offered my services to you, and I will not go back on my offer.” I replied softly. There was nothing I could do in this moment. If I backed out of my offer this could be seen as some grave offense on the emperor and I wouldn’t do anything else that would get me imprisoned or worse killed for thinking I could just make a deal and walk away just because I didn’t like the outcome. Emperor Meiji looked at me with a gentle gaze before shaking his head.

“Go.” he merely replied, and I looked up at him with wet eyes.

“Enlightened one?” I asked, and he raised his head.

“Go back to your samurai. When this battle is over and there is a surrender, I will let the wounded go, I will not have any of them executed. That is all I can give you.” he replied, and I looked up at him stunned watching as he gave a light bow to me and turned from me walking down the hall with his hands behind his back. “Go, no one will harm you.”

I stared at his back as he walked away. Now I began to feel panic at his words as I thought of Ujio going into battle. The army was marching! I winced and turned and began to pick up my feet as I ran through the halls of this palace. I knew I would never see anything like it again. I don’t think any African has. I hoped I lived long enough to remember these halls filled with history and tell my baby the stories of the emperor.

#hiroyuki sanada #sanada hiroyuki #blackfemoc #the last samurai #ujioxblackfemoc #nathan algren #Taka #katsumoto #Nobutada #emperor meiji #smut #mixed couple #ambw #ambw smut #Samurai #ujio

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usafphantom2 · 4 months

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Germany will buy 20 additional Eurofighter jets amid growing defense needs

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 06/05/20204 - 09:00am ILA Berlin, Military

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Germany will strengthen its defense capabilities with the purchase of 20 additional Eurofighter jets from Airbus, Chancellor Olaf Scholz announced on Wednesday (05/06). This decision comes at a time when the NATO member country is increasing its defense spending in response to the escalation of geopolitical tensions following Russia's large-scale invasion of Ukraine.

Chancellor Scholz made the announcement during the opening of the ILA air show, held on the outskirts of Berlin, where he highlighted his government's commitment to maintain and expand Germany's arms production capacity.

? Just announced at #ILA24: Chancellor Olaf Scholz said that Germany will order 20 Eurofighters for @team_luftwaffe in the current legislative period, adding to the 38 aircraft from the Quadriga contract that are already being produced. We welcome this decision as an important...

— Airbus Defence (@AirbusDefence) June 5, 2024

“That's why we will order 20 more Eurofighters before the end of this legislative session – in addition to the 38 aircraft currently in preparation,” said Scholz. He emphasized that this substantial order would provide long-term security to Airbus and its network of suppliers, ensuring the stability and growth of the European defense industry.

The decision to expand the Eurofighters fleet aligns with Germany's broader strategy to improve its military readiness and capabilities in a context of growing security threats in Europe. The additional jets will significantly increase the operational capacity of the German Air Force, ensuring that it remains equipped to face contemporary defense challenges.

Tags: airbusMilitary AviationEurofighter TyphoonILA Berlin Air ShowLuftwaffe - German Air Force

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Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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fishyyyyy99 · 8 months

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In which world has India "occupied" Kashmir? Kashmir is a part of India which is severely affected by terrorist activity. Many were forced to leave their homes to settle in different parts of India (Kashmir pandits etc). How was that India's fault and not the fault of the country the terrorists came from?

Firstly, I want to make it clear that I do condemn what was done to Kashmiri Pandits. Secondly, I do believe that Kashmir is occupied (that does NOT mean that I don't understand that the geopolitical reality is complex), and that a plebiscite should have been conducted. And I believe that neither India nor Pakistan has been entirely innocent with regard to Kashmir.

My interpretation of the events described below (quoted from the linked articles), is that Kashmir is occupied. And no, they are not my only sources of information - other articles, the Kashmiri woman who came to speak at my university, and a friend of a friend who visited Kashmir and stayed there for a significant period of time (not as a tourist), are also sources of my information on Kashmir.

When India and Pakistan gained independence from British rule in 1947, the various princely rulers were able to choose which state to join. The Maharaja of Kashmir, Hari Singh, was the Hindu head of a majority Muslim state sandwiched between the two countries and could not decide. He signed an interim "standstill" agreement to maintain transport and other services with Pakistan. In October 1947 tribesmen from Pakistan invaded Kashmir, spurred by reports of attacks on Muslims and frustrated by Hari Singh's delaying tactics. The Maharaja asked for Indian military assistance. India's governor-general, Lord Mountbatten, believed peace would best be served by Kashmir's joining India on a temporary basis, pending a vote on its ultimate status. Hari Singh signed the Instrument of Accession that month, ceding control over foreign and defence policy to India. Indian troops took two-thirds of the territory, and Pakistan seized the northern remainder. China occupied eastern parts of the state in the 1950s. Whether the Instrument of Accession or the entry of Indian troops came first remains a major source of dispute between India and Pakistan. India insists that Hari Singh signed first, thereby legitimising the presence of their troops. Pakistan is adamant that the Maharaja could not have signed before the troops arrived, and that he and India had therefore ignored the "standstill" agreement with Pakistan. Pakistan demands a referendum to decide the status of Kashmir, while Delhi argues that, by voting in successive Indian state and national elections, Kashmiris have confirmed their accession to India. Pakistan cites numerous UN resolutions in favour of a UN-run referendum, while India says the Simla Agreement of 1972 binds the two countries to solve the problem on a state-to-state basis. There has been no significant movement from these positions in decades. In addition, some Kashmiris seek a third option - independence - which neither India nor Pakistan is prepared to contemplate.

The two countries fought wars over Kashmir in 1947-48 and 1965. They formalised the original ceasefire line as the Line of Control in the Simla Agreement, but this did not prevent further clashes in 1999 on the Siachen Glacier, which is beyond the Line of Control. India and Pakistan came close to war again in 2002. The situation was further complicated by an Islamist-led insurgency that broke out in 1989. India gave the army additional authority to end the insurgency under the controversial Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA). Despite occasional reviews of the AFSPA, it still remains in force in Indian-administered Jammu and Kashmir.

Today it remains one of the most militarised zones in the world. China administers parts of the territory.

Media in Indian-administered Kashmir are generally split between pro- and anti-secessionist. Local journalists work under strict curfews and also face threats from militant groups. Internet access is sporadic and text messaging services are regularly blocked.

In Pakistani-controlled Kashmir, the media are used mainly for propaganda purposes, mainly to highlight the alleged human rights violations in Indian-administered Kashmir.

Also, I think the following information is relevant too.

The Muslim majority in the princely state found the Maharaja’s reign authoritarian. In the words of Kashmiri author P.N. Bazaz, “Dogra rule has been a Hindu Raj.” Maharaja Hari Singh thought of independence because, according to American Indologist William Norman Brown, “He disliked becoming part of India, which was being democratised, or Pakistan, which was Muslim....”

On August 12, 1947, J&K petitioned India and Pakistan for a standstill agreement, which Pakistan signed but India refused, asking the Maharaja to send a representative for discussions. With every passing day, the Maharaja’s position became more precarious. As early as June 1947, about 60,000 ex-army men (mostly from Poonch) had started a no-tax campaign against the Maharaja. On August 14-15, Muslims in Poonch hoisted Pakistani flags, provoking the imposition of martial law and further angering Muslim subjects. Pakistan was sending warning notes to the Maharaja, one on August 24 reading: “Should Kashmir fail to join Pakistan, the gravest possible trouble will inevitably ensue.” The worst fears of the Dogra ruler came true when on October 22, Pakistan launched Operation Gulmarg by mobilising tribals from the North-West Frontier Province. About 2,000 tribesmen, armed with modern weaponry, raided Muzaffarabad. By the evening of October 23 they had captured Domel. Garhi and Chinari fell over the next two days. Then their main column proceeded towards Uri, and then, along the Jhelum river towards Baramulla, the entry point to Srinagar.

On October 24, Maharaja Hari Singh appealed to India for military aid to flush out the raiders. India obliged but not before the Instrument of Accession was signed on October 26. It limited India’s powers over the Valley to matters of defence, communications, and foreign affairs.

And this is from the Instrument of Accession:

Nothing in this Instrument shall be deemed to commit in any way to acceptance of any future constitution of India or to fetter my discretion to enter into agreement with the Government of India under any such future constitution.

#kashmir #india

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manasastuff-blog · 23 days

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SSC GD Constable Notification 2024#trending#viral#ssc

This video delves deep into the SSC GD Constable Notification 2024! Aspiring candidates, are you ready to embark on your journey towards a successful career in the Indian Armed Forces? The Staff Selection Commission is all set to the latest vacancies for the GD Constable position, and we are here to help you every the way!

At Manasa Defence Academy, we pride ourselves on providing top-notch SSC training to help students achieve their dream of becoming a GD Constable. Our expert faculty, comprehensive study materials, and personalized coaching approaches have consistently produced successful candidates who excel in examinations.

Call: 7799799221 Website: www.manasadefenceacademy.com

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newspatron · 9 months

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Conquer the Battlefield: Your Ultimate Guide to NDA Exams

Unleash your inner warrior! Share your NDA exam dreams, questions, and tips in the comments below!

Step onto the Battlefield of Dreams: Cracking the NDA Exam with Confidence Ever dreamt of donning the olive green, of soaring amidst the clouds, or commanding the vast canvas of the ocean? The National Defence Academy ( NDA exam ) could be your gateway to transforming these dreams into reality. But conquering this coveted path demands not just unwavering ambition, but also a strategic roadmap…

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#Air Force #Army #career guidance #defence academy #Indian Armed Forces #medical test #Navy #NDA exams #NDA preparation #NDA strategies #NDA syllabus #NDA tips #NDA written test #officer training #SSB interview

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sagehaubitze · 10 months

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So as I've been working on the house, I've been going through Pa's things again for the n'th time here and there (it never ends, there are still so many sterilite tubs of paperwork and photographs and *stuff*). Pulled this out and hung it in my stairwell next to the door so as I leave my bedroom/office warzone, it is a reminder to be normal in public.

There's a couple versions floating around from the war, only very slight changes. Everyone loves some good joke paperwork (I mean, I do too, that's still half of what I do with my typewriter).

Transcribed it below:

HEADQUARTERS

LAST US ARMY

APO 001, US ARMY

AG 4110.99 ( )

3 February 1945

SUBJECT : Indoctrination for Return to US

TO : All Units

1. In compliance with current policies for rotation of armed forces overseas, it is directed, that in order to maintain the high standard of character of the American Soldier and to prevent any dishonor to reflect on the uniform, all individuals eligible for return to the US under current directives will undergo an indoctrination course of demilitarization prior to approval of his application for return.

2. The following points will be emphasized in the subject indoctrination course:

a. In America there are a remarkable number of beautiful girls. These young ladies have not been liberated and many are gainfully employed as stenographers, sales girls, beauty operators, or welders. Contrary to current practice, they should not be approached with "How much?". A proper greeting is "Isn't it a lovely day?" or "Have you ever been to Chicago?", then say, "How much?".

b. A guest in a private home is usually awakened in the morning by a light tapping on his door and an invitation to join the host at breakfast. It is proper to say "I'll be there shortly." DO NOT say "Blow it out your ".

c. A typical American breakfast consists of many strange foods, such as cantaloupes, fresh eggs, milk, ham, etc. These are highly palatable and though strange in appearance are extremely tasty. Butter, made from cream, is often served. If you wish some butter, you turn to the person nearest it and say quietly "Please pass the butter". YOU DO NOT say "Throw me the goddam grease".

d. Very natural urges are apt to occur when in a crowd. If it is found necessary to defecate, one does NOT grab a shovel in one hand, a paper in the other, and run for the garden. At least 90% of the American homes have one room called the "Bathroom", ie, a room that, in most cases, contains a bathtub, wash basin, medicine chest, and a toilet. It is the latter that you will use in this case. (Instructors will make sure that all personnel understand the operation of toilet, particularly the lever or button arrangement that serves to prepare the device for re-use.)

e. In the event the helmet is retained by the individual, he will refrain from using it as a chair, wash bowl, foot bath, or bathtub. All these devices are furnished in the average American home. It is not considered good practice to squat Indian fashion in a corner in the event all chairs are occupied. The host usually will provide suitable seats.

f. Belching or passing wind in company is strictly frowned upon. If you should forget about it, however, a belch in the presence of others can be excused by saying "Excuse me". DO NOT say "It must be that lousy chow we've been getting."

g. American dinners, in most cases, consist of several items, each served in a separate dish. The common practice of mixing various items, such as corn beef and pudding or lima beans and peaches, to make it more palatable will be refrained from. In time the "separate dish" system will become enjoyable.

h. Americans have a strange taste for stimulants. The drinks in common usage on the Continent, such as underripe wine, alcohol, and grapefruit juice, or gasoline bitters and water (commonly known by the French as "Calvados") are not ordinarily acceptable in civilian circles. They should be served only to those who are definitely not within the inner circle of friends. A suitable use for such drinks is for serving to one's landlord in order to break an undesirable lease.

i. The returning soldier is apt to often find his opinion different from those of his civilian associates. One should call upon his reserve of etiquette and correct his acquaintance with such remarks as "I believe you have made a mistake" or "I'm afraid you are in error on that". DO NOT say "Brother, you're really f d up". This is considered impolite.

j. Upon leaving a friend's home after a visit, one may find his hat misplaced. Frequently it has been placed in a closet. One should turn to one's host and say "I don't seem to have my hat. Could you help me find it?" DO NOT say "Don't anybody leave this room. Some SOB has stolen my hat."

k. In traveling in the US, particularly in a strange city, it is often necessary to spend the night. Hotels are provided for this purpose and almost anyone can give directions to the nearest hotel. Here, for a small sum, one can register and be shown to a room where he can sleep for the night. The present practice of entering the nearest house, throwing the occupants into the yard, and taking over the premises will cease.

l. Whiskey, a common American drink, may be offered to the soldier on social occasions. It is considered a reflection on the uniform to snatch the bottle from the hostess and drain the bottle, cork, and all. All individuals are cautioned to exercise extreme control in these circumstances.

m. In motion picture theaters, seats are provided. Helmets are not required. In is NOT considered good form to whistle every time a female over 8 and under 80 crosses the screen. If vision is impaired by the person in the seat in front, there are plenty of other seats which can be occupied. DO NOT hit him across the back of the head and say "Move your head, jerk. I can't see a damn thing."

n. It is not proper to go around hitting everyone of draft age in civilian clothes. He might have been released from the service for medical reasons. Ask for his credentials, and if he can't show any, THEN go ahead and slug him.

o. Upon retiring, one will often find a pair of pajamas laid out on the bed. (Pajamas, it should be explained, are two piece garments which are donned after all clothing has been removed.) The soldier confronted by these garments should assume an air of familiarity and act as though he were used to them. A casual remark, such as "My, what a delicate shade of blue", will usually suffice. Under no circumstances say "How in hell do you expect me to sleep in a get up like that".

p. Natural functions will continue. It may be necessary frequently to urinate. DO NOT walk behind the nearest tree or automobile you find to accomplish this. Toilets (d above) are provided in all public buildings for this purpose.

q. Beer is sometimes served in bottles. A cap remover is usually available. It is not good form to open the bottle by the use of one's teeth.

r. Always tip your hat before striking a lady.

s. Air raids and enemy patrols are not encountered in America. Therefore, it is not necessary to wear the helmet in church or at social gatherings or to hold the weapon at the ready, loaded and cocked, when talking to civilians in the street.

t. Every American home and all hotels are equipped with bathing facilities. When it is desired to take a bath, it is not considered good form to find the nearest pool or stream, strip down, and indulge in a bath. This is particularly true in heavily populated areas.

3. All individuals returning to the US will make every effort to conform to the customs and habits of the regions visited and to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. Any actions which reflect upon the honor of the uniform will be promptly dealt with.

BY ORDER OF LIEUTENANT GENERAL FAULKNER:

EARLE W MCFADDEN

Major General, Hq Last Army

Adjutant

#text #I don't know what in the world to tag this as #WWII #Listen I just have a thing for paperwork #I am so glad Pa was a hoarder and kept everything #It is a curse #As I clean out tax information from the 60s #But it's a blessing too #Lots of fun things in there.

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music-is-love-90 · 2 years

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A/N: Hi! I'm not dead!

Yeah, life got hard there for a bit, but I have not abandoned you. I'm not promising regular updates just yet, but I am writing again and hope to get back up and running. Hope you like this slightly shorter chapter, but it gets us to where we're going!

Ch. 29:

Preparations took on a frantic speed as Edwina and Lord Morrison’s wedding approached. Kate was dragged into meetings at the palace and trips to the modiste as her sister’s wedding began to almost take on a life of its own.

The only bright spot was the ring she now openly wore on her finger. She would find herself staring at it, completely enraptured by the way the light played across the stones. She often had to force herself to look away as the ring Anthony’s father had given his mother caught her in its spell. Once, Mary had caught her in a moment of enrapture and had burst into tears, alarming Kate greatly until she calmed enough to explain that she was just so happy for her eldest daughter that she almost couldn’t stand it.

It had taken ages for both of them to calm down.

Kate sighed as she snuck out of the parlor where an intense conversation about flowers was taking place and she found herself in the peaceful silence of the gardens. One more minute in that room and she would have started screaming.

“Once we’re done with this spectacle, it will be your turn.”

She turned to find Lady Danbury had followed her out.

“Yes, but mine will not include opinions from the Queen of England, which is a fact I am eternally grateful for,” She told the older woman with a smirk.

“I think you’re underestimating Her Majesty’s interest in the Bridgerton family,” Lady Danbury cautioned her. “But her opinions will most likely be more subtle at least.”

She linked her arm with Kate’s, and they headed down the path.

“Have you found a dress maker yet?” she asked the younger woman and she shook her head with a sigh.

At Anthony’s urging, Kate had begun considering what parts of the Indian traditions she had grown up with to incorporate into an English ceremony and she had decided she wanted to wear a sari. She hoped to commission one that would resemble the one her Amma had worn at her wedding and Kate had been forced to sell to help fund their trip to England, but finding a dressmaker in London that could handle such an order had proved difficult.

“Well, we have time,” the matron assured her. “In the meantime, we need to speak of your sister.”

It took all of Kate’s self-control to only sigh and not groan.

“We cannot allow it to seem like you two are at odds,” Lady Danbury continued, ignoring Kate’s sigh. “Your sister’s refusal to speak to your fiancé lends itself to rumor and inuendo.”

“I do not know what you expect me to do.” Kate replied, annoyance creeping into her voice. “Clearly Edwina no longer cares for my counsel.”

“Be that as it may, this wedding must go off without a hitch. The Queen has been quite forgiving with your mama, but I would not trust in her largesse a second time.”

Kate nodded and they continued their walk in silence for a time.

“How go your lessons with Lady Bridgerton?” Lady Danbury inquired and Kate smiled brightly.

Violet, as she insisted on being called, had invited her for tea several times now to begin teaching her the duties she would need to perform when she took her place as Lady Bridgeton at Anthony’s side.

Lady Bridgerton. She would be Anthony’s wife in just a few short months.

She couldn’t help the smile that always broke across her face when the thought crossed her mind, but she quickly schooled her features this time as Lady Danbury raised her eyebrow.

“Well,” she replied, “there is much I need to learn, but Lady Bridgerton is an excellent teacher. I am sure she will bring me up to snuff.”

“I have absolute faith that you will do very well in your new role,” the matron told her confidently. “I have scarcely seen a woman more well suited to the role of Viscountess, even amongst the Ton who should be raised to handle it.”

Kate blushed at Lady Danbury’s praise and they fell once more into companiable silence.

“Kate!”

This time she did groan as she stopped to wait for her sister and Lord Morrison caught up with them.

“Kate, the Earl is taking us to a play tonight!” her sister announced as they joined the two women. “Isn’t that lovely?”

“It is, Bon,” Kate replied with forced patience. “Unfortunately, I will not be able to join you. I am already promised at Hastings House tonight for dinner.”

“Surely the Brigertons can spare you for one evening?” Edwina said, annoyance clear in her voice.

“One should keep one’s engagements as often as they can.” Lady Danbury interjected blandly. “And Her Grace is not known for her patience in being snubbed. Your sister is doing the proper thing to ensure her future familial harmony.”

“My sister is always quite proper,” Edwina said in the same tone, making Kate glare at her, which she ignored. “Very well. Enjoy your dinner, Didi.”

She and Morrison continued on and Lady Danbury linked her arm with Kate’s once more.

“One more week,” she told her under her breath, “and then it is your turn.”

Kate signed and nodded, letting her lead her down the path once more.

~.~

Kate was genuinely surprised when Edwina agreed to her mother's suggestion that the three of them hold a Haldi ceremony the night before the wedding. Her sister had seemed so utterly uninterested in including any of her father's Indian heritage that her easy acceptance was shocking, but Kate chose to capitalize on her acquiescence and quickly gathered the supplies they would need.

For a while, it was as if nothing had changed between the two sisters as they went through the ritual. They laughed and joked and teased just like they had when they were children in Bombay and for the first time in months, Kate felt like her sister was truly her sister again.

There was a lull in the conversation as Mary and Kate spread the turmeric paste across Edwina's arms.

"Are you happy, Bon?" Kate found herself asking softly.

"Of course, I am, Didi!" her sister responded instantly. "I am going to be a countess!"

"But do you love Lord Morrison?" her sister pressed. "Does he love you?"

"He is marrying me, knowing I have no dowry, Kate," Edwina said, annoyance creeping into her voice. "Surely this means he esteems me. All will be well."

Kate nodded, backing off. Anthony didn't want anyone to know where Edwina's dowry came from, fearing how it would look before they were married. Edwina would know after the wedding and everything would be fine again. She would have her wish to marry as she thought a Diamond should, and she would be happy.

Kate had to hold to that hope.

"How did you know you Appa, mama?" Edwina asked suddenly, surprising Mary.

"I suppose I knew when I saw the way he looked at me," she replied slowly, both girls listening to her with rapt attention. "But it was more how the world went quiet when I was with him. The way his soul seemed to dance with mine, the way we settled into each other until there was no place to hide, nor any desire to do so. It was the moment I realized I was willing to give up everything just to stay with him, that was when I knew."

Kate couldn't help but think of Anthony, of the way the world went quiet during their stolen moments in the woods, when he simply held her in his arms. The way dancing with him was as easy as breathing. She had abandoned every plan for the future she had ever made for him, knowing that the life she would have with him would be far greater than any she had ever dreamed of alone.

She realized she had stopped coating her sister as her mind had wandered and she shook herself, glancing at her sister to find her deep in thought.

"Bon?"

Edwina started and seemed to give herself a shake.

"That is just how I feel with Lord Morrison," she told them brightly. "I think I am to be very happy with him."

Kate decided to let that go.

~.~

The morning of the wedding dawned bright and chaotic. As Kate came to consciousness, she could hear the dulcet tones of her sister, yelling on the other side of the house, and she fought the urge to burrow into her blankets and refuse to come out.

It was going to be a long day.

There was a knock at the door and Kate lifted the blanket off her head with a groan before calling for her maid to enter.

“This arrived for you this morning, Miss.”

The young girl set a large bouquet of orange and pink tulips on the table and Kate crawled out of bet to pluck the note out as the girl began readying the room for the day.

Next time, it will be our turn. I’ll see you in a few hours. A. Bridgerton

Kate smiled and set the note next to her bed.

“Kate, are you still abed?!”

Kate looked up at her sister, who was glaring at her from the doorway.

“We will be leaving for the palace shortly and you’re still not ready!” her sister shouted, making Kate wince.

“I was just admiring my flowers, Bon,” she told her soothingly. “I will be ready shortly, don’t worry.”

Edwina glanced at the flowers with a sniff before striding out of the room. A moment later, Mary took her place.

“This is going to be one of those days where everyone accosts me in my room before I can even dress, isn’t it?” Kate asked dryly.

“You should be used to it by now.” Mary shot back, but her smile took the sting out of her words. “We are running behind, though, so do make haste.”

“Yes, mama.” Kate agreed easily. “I will be ready as fast as I can be.”

Mary left and Kate quickly began getting ready. Within the hour, the bridal party was packed up and on their way to the palace where they final preparations for the day would take place. When they arrived, they were quickly bundled off to the rooms that would be theirs for the day and introduced to the veritable army of servants who would be helping them. Lady Danbury was quickly called to the Queen’s side and the Sharma women worked to dress and primp Edwina.

As Mary helped Edwina slip on her dress, Kate routed around in the various chests they had brought with them, looking for a specific item. She finally located it as Edwina wandered over to her side of the room.

“Didi, what are those?” she asked, looking over Kate’s shoulder at the bangles in her hands. “I don’t think I’ve seen those before.”

“They were my mother’s,” Kate told her. “I brought them with us from home. I had faith that this Season would be a success.”

“They are very beautiful,” Edwina said shortly. “I’m sure they’ll look lovely at your wedding.”

Kate sighed and stood up, turning to take her sister’s hands in hers.

“I want you to wear them.”

Edwina stared at her.

“I know things have been…difficult between us lately,” Kate continued. “but you are my sister and I love you and all I have wanted was for you to be happy. If you believe this is the path that will lead you to your greatest happy than I will celebrate it as a blessing, just as I hope you will do the same for me. So,” she pressed the bangles into her hands, “wear these as a sign of my blessing and know that I wish you every happiness in the world.”

Edwina stared at the bracelets, her eyes bright.

“I know you only want what’s best for me, Kate,” she said softly. “I couldn’t ask for a better sister…” she shook her head, “but these were your Amma’s. You should wear them.” She pressed the bangles back into Kate’s hands. “I know the Earl is not the one you would have picked for me, but I am glad you can put that aside and try to be happy for me.”

Kate wrapped her sister in a hug.

“All I have ever cared about is your happiness, Bon,” she whispered. “That is all I have ever wanted.”

Edwina pulled away, taking Kate’s hand and slipping the bangles onto her wrist.

“I am happy, Didi,” she told her. “I am marrying an Earl and I will be a countess. What reason would I ever have to be unhappy?”

With a bright smile, Edwina turned away to continue her preparations and Kate sighed, playing with the bracelet on her wrist. Finally, she turned back to her own preparations, sending out a small prayer that all would be as her sister believed and not as her gut told her it would be.

~.~

Anthony came down the stairs at Bridgerton House to find utter chaos. He grabbed the back of Gregory’s coat as he ran past and plucked Hyacinth’s ribbon out of his hand.

“I was doing her a service,” his youngest brother grumbled as Hyacinth took the ribbon back from Anthony and stuck her tongue out at Gregory.

“Please try to remember that we have spent a considerable amount of time teaching you how to behave as upstanding members of this family, at least in public,” he told them with a sigh, releasing Gregory.

His two youngest siblings nodded solemnly for a second before Hyacinth kicked Gregory in the shin and they were off again.

“It’s adorable you thought that would work,” Daphne said, reaching up to press a kiss to Anthony’s cheek. “Best to just them run themselves out and pray that they mature a little bit in the months we have left before your wedding to Kate.”

“That’s not encouraging, sister dear,” he said, returning her kiss. “Where is your lout of a husband? Kate will be annoyed if we’re not all there to support Miss Edwina.”

“He is already attending Lady Danbury,” she replied. “He’s promised to check on Kate and will join us at the chapel.” She was distracted by a moan from Colin, who was laying on a bench as Benedict grinned at him. “What is wrong with him?”

“I do not care as long as Benedict undoes it.” Violet said as she joined them. “This day is important to your future sister and you will behave.”

The last part was said at an increased volume that made Colin moan again and Benedict attempt and fail to look contrite.

“Yes, mother.” Her sons agreed easily.

She purposely turned away as her second born handed her third born a flask.

“How is Kate?” she asked, addressing her first born.

“Well, as far as I know.” He replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek in thanks.

“It will be your turn next,” she told him, straightening his tie with misty eyes. “Kathani will be such a lovely bride.”

“I quite agree,” he said, taking her hands in his and lowering them away from his neck. “Though I know we both desire a…less ostentatious event when it is our turn.”

“A simple wedding in Kent,” his mother agreed easily. “Well, as simple as the wedding of a Viscount from his ancestral seat to a woman who shares blood with a Maharaja can be.”

“So, not simple at all?” Benedict quipped, taking his flask back from Colin. “Given that Queen with definitely be in attendance?”

His mother reached behind herself to swat at him.

“We’ll discuss the plans and see what we can do as soon as Miss Edwina is happily married.” She assured her eldest. “Now, we should go. I’m sure Kate would like you nearby.”

Daphne, Benedict, and Colin all snickered at their mother’s carefully bland face and Anthony glared at all of them.

“I am disinheriting all of you.”

His siblings just ignored him.

~.~

Kate snuck out of the dressing room and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall.

“Yours will probably be worse, you know.”

She cracked an eye open to glare at Simon.

“I am considering dragging Anthony to Gretna Green just to avoid it,” she told him crossly.

“I do not think it would take much to convince him,” he told her, leaning against the wall next to her. “But I believe your mama, my saintly godmother, and my current, your future, mother-in-law would ban together to murder you both, which would, in turn, upset my wife.”

“God-forbid.” Kate said dryly.

“Exactly,” Simon agreed with a laugh. “So, for the sake of our family, I implore you to grin and bare what ever they throw at you.”

“Fine,” she huffed, fighting off a smile of her own. “Speaking of, where is your lovely wife?”

“She’s coming with the rest of the clan,” he replied. “I have arrived early to lend my support to Lady Danbury.”

“And yet you are here with me, hiding in a side corridor,” she teased. “Hiding from the Queen, are we?”

“Oh, indubitably.” He agreed easily. “I think she is still slightly miffed that I married Daphne, stealing her away from her royal nephew.”

“I wish I had been here last Season. It sounds like it was fascinating.”

“I am very glad you weren’t,” Simon replied seriously. “I did not behave as a gentleman should and I would rather have your respect.”

“You have it,” she assured him with a soft smile. “I am quite looking forward to calling you brother.”

“And I calling you sister.” He cleared his throat. “How is your sister?”

“Perfectly content to be standing in the light and excited to be the next Countess Morrison,” Kate replied with a sigh.

“You still disapprove?”

Kate shrugged.

“My opinion does not matter, which has been made clear to me. She believes this is the path that will bring her the most happiness, so I must trust her judgment.”

“You can’t protect her forever.”

She smiled sadly.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I want to.”

“You and Anthony really are perfect for each other.” Kate laughed and he reached out to squeeze her arm. “You are a good sister, Kate. I don’t have any practical experience with siblings, but I have spent enough time around Anthony to know what a good one looks like. You are a good one.”

Kate smiled up at him, her eyes bright.

“Thank you, Simon.”

The Duke squeezed her arm once more before letting go.

“There you are.” They both turned to find Lady Danbury striding towards them. “Miss Edwina is demanding your presence, Miss Sharma, so make haste. And you, good sir, will come with me to distract Her Majesty.”

“Of course, my Lady.” Simon replied dryly, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“You are lucky I adore your son, Your Grace.” She told him, refusing to be mollified. “Get on your way. I will follow shortly.”

Simon bowed to the ladies and took his leave. Lady Danbury took a moment to look over Kate critically before allowing her face to soften.

“Have courage, Miss Sharma,” she told Kate softly. “Just a few more hours and you will be free.”

With that, she turned and left Kate alone, wondering if she was referring to freedom from her wedding duties or freedom from Edwina.

~.~

Kate spotted some of the Bridgertons on the grounds from the window of Edwina’s dressing room and wished she could join them, but Edwina was ready and all there was to wait for the service to begin.

“Kate.”

She turned to see her sister holding her veil out to her. On her head sat the Morrison Family coronet and Kate took the veil to attach to it as Edwina turned around.

“Are you ready, my darling?”

They two sisters turned to see Mary in the doorway.

“You look so lovely, Edwina,” she told her tearily. “You both do.”

She spotted Kate’s bangles and her smile grew brighter. “I hope you plan on wearing those at your wedding in a few months. I’m sure your Amma would be just as happy for you as I am.”

“Is everything ready?” Edwina asked her, bring her attention back to her younger daughter.

“It is,” she told her. “Are you ready?”

“I am.”

She walked over and took Mary’s arm, allowing her to lead her out as Kate followed behind.

“Let’s give the ton a wedding to remember and show them who we truly are.” Mary said, kissing Edwina’s cheek as they reached the chapel doors.

“Let’s,” her daughter agreed.

Kate smiled brightly at her sister as the music began and she began her trek down the aisle. As she neared the front, she spotted the Bridgertons seated in the first few pews. Anthony caught her eye, lifting his eyebrow and making her smile brightly. She let out a small giggle as Benedict elbowed his older brother, making Anthony glare at him as she reached the altar. She quickly schooled her features, nodding to the Earl, before taking her place. She caught Anthony’s eye again and he gave her an encouraging smile.

The music changed and the congregation rose as every eye went to the back of the chapel. Edwina glided down the aisle serenely on her mother’s arm, looking the perfect vision of a happy bride. Finally, she joined them at the altar and Kate took a deep breath.

“Miss Edwina, you look lovely.” Morrison murmured, making her smile beautifully.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she demurred. “I am happy you are pleased.”

“Please be seated,” the Archbishop began. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God…”

Kate let her mind wander as she played with her bangle. Her gaze moved across the congregation before landing on Anthony and she couldn’t help but imagine what their wedding would be like in a few months. Would he wear the morning suit traditional to an English lord, or could she convince him to wear a sherwani to match her sari? Either way, he would be the most handsome groom she had ever seen, she was sure.

Anthony caught her watching him as her fingernail caught in the clasp of one of the bangles and, before she could stop it, the bracelet slipped off her wrist. She watched in horror and embarrassment as it hit the ground loudly, bouncing down the steps and rolling across the floor until it came to a stop at Anthony’s foot. The church fell silent as he leaned down to pick it up.

“I think I shall keep this safe for now, Miss Sharma,” he announced with a wicked smile that made Kate blush before shaking her head fondly. “Please continue, Archbishop.”

A chuckle ran through the assembled crowd, including a smirk from the Queen, as Anthony’s smile turned soft.

I love you, he mouthed at her, slipping the bangle into his coat to rest above his heart. Kate returned his sentiment with a soft smile of her own before turning back to the altar. She was unsurprised to find Morrison glaring at her, but her sister quickly stole her focus.

“Bon?”

Edwina was staring at Anthony, her face paler than Kate had ever seen. At her call, her eyes snapped to Kate, staring at her as if she had never seen her before.

“Miss Edwina, are you ready to continue?” the Archbishop asked her, but Edwina just kept staring at Kate.

Morrison huffed, taking Edwina’s hand and pulling her to face him.

“Answer His Grace, please, Miss Edwina,” he ordered, but she just stared at him.

“Bon, are you alright?” Kate asked, moving forward as she started to become worried.

“She is perfectly fine,” Morrison answered shortly. “Miss Edwina, you are embarrassing yourself. Repeat after the Archbishop.”

“I – “ Edwina broke off, her breathing becoming low and shallow.

“Bon, do you need to sit down?” Kate asked, concern lacing her voice. She glanced at Anthony and he quickly got to his feet, heading towards her.

The noise of his shoes seemed to startle Edwina, bringing her back to herself. Her gaze spun around the room before focusing on Morrison.

“I need a moment,” she announced.

And then she ran out of the room.

#Bridgerton #Fanfiction #Best Laid Plans #Anthony Bridgerton #Kate Sharma #Kathani Sharma #Kanthony #Kate x Anthony #Anthony x Kate #Kathani x Anthony #Anthony x Kathani

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rabbitcruiser · 1 year

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National Gin and Tonic Day

National Gin and Tonic Day is celebrated every year on April 9 to appreciate this vintage drink. Much like pancakes and maple syrup; bacon and eggs; spaghetti and meatballs; peanut butter and jelly; and apple pie and ice cream, something about G&T (gin and tonic) feels right. Alright, that’s enough dreaming about food for now!

What makes gin and tonic special is that it’s surprisingly easy to prepare yet tastes amazing. The ingredients are in the name; it doesn’t get any simpler than this, does it? G&T is the perfect daytime drink. Just kidding, it is equally perfect for nighttime too!

History of National Gin and Tonic Day

Gin has had a rollercoaster ride by falling in and out of fashion throughout the ages. Its origin is even more interesting. Gin and tonic was invented by the officers of the Presidency Armies, the Armed Forces of the East India Company operating in the Indian subcontinent. Malaria was a frequent problem for Europeans living in India and other tropical regions during this time. In the 1700s, Scottish physician George Cleghorn researched the use of quinine in the prevention of malaria. Quinine was consumed along with tonic water but had a bitter taste.

In the early 19th century, the officers of the Presidency armies in India began adding a mixture of water, sugar, lime, and good old gin to quinine to make the drink easier to go down. That’s how the famous gin and tonic cocktail was born! It was easy to make this drink as the officers were already given gin as part of their ration. Since tonic water is not used as an antimalarial medicine these days, it has lower quantities of quinine and is usually sweet and not at all bitter as it used to be.

Winston Churchill said, “Gin and tonic has saved more Englishmen’s lives, and minds, than all the doctors in the Empire.” Now, that’s some noteworthy praise. Soon, Schweppes arrived, the famous tonic water in 1783, which was aimed at the growing market of overseas Britons who had to take a daily preventative dose of quinine. Schweppes and other commercial tonics boomed in the colonies, and eventually in Britain as well. So, it appears we have malaria and the British Army in India to thank for this sweet and delicious concoction called G&T.

National Gin and Tonic Day timeline

1840s The G&T is Born

Tonic water is created after British citizens and army personnel in India mix quinine with soda, sugar, and lime.

1857 The Great Indian Mutiny

The British Crown obtains control of India after the Sepoy Mutiny, which leads to an influx of Britons and G&Ts in the subcontinent.

1870 Schweppes in the House

Schweppes introduces its “Indian Quinine Tonic” later known as “Indian tonic water.”

2010s Ginnaisance

After falling out of fashion for a while, gin and G&Ts make a comeback called the “ginnaisance.”

National Gin and Tonic Day FAQs

Why was gin nicknamed “mother’s ruin?”

People’s obsession was blamed for a lot of misery, crime, madness, death, and falling birth rates. Places that served gin let women drink alongside men for the first time and it is thought that this led women to neglect their children and turn to prostitution.

What is the ratio of gin to tonic?

You can go for three parts gin with five parts tonic water. The old school and simple one-to-two ratio is also good.

What kind of people drink G&T?

An Austrian study conducted on 953 people stated that gin and tonic drinkers tend to exhibit more signs of being psychopaths and malevolent than those who prefer other drinks.

How to keep gin and tonic fizzy?

A lot of ice cubes keep the temperature of the drink lower, which means that the carbon dioxide in the tonic finds it harder to escape, keeping the drink fizzy for a long time.

National Gin and Tonic Day Activities

Go for gin

Mix it up

Head out to your favorite bar

Just mix some gin, tonic water, lime, and ice for a nice G&T drink to cool down this summer. Whether we’re sipping on the drink by ourselves or at a party, we know it’s going to taste great!

Why stick to the same boring recipe when we can get creative? Look up some recipes and mix things up this National Gin and Tonic Day by creating an individual take on this classic drink with different flavors and colors.

Check out the nearest bars and restaurants for any exciting offers they might have on this special day. Posting a selfie with this refreshing drink is a good idea. Share its rich and colorful history too.

5 Facts About G&Ts That Will Blow Your Mind

Bathtub gin

“Fleabag” helped G&T sales

It’s an intergalactic drink

Thank Holland for gin

The Philippines loves gin

Gin was often made illegally in bathtubs by mixing cheap grain-alcohol with juniper-berry juice, which would lead to several illnesses and death.

The characters in the popular T.V. show “Fleabag” were seen drinking cans of Marks & Spencer G&T in an episode, resulting in a 24% jump in the drink’s sales.

Douglas Adams’ book “The Restaurant at the End of the Universe” suggests that the drink is known across galaxies.

Holland invented the spirit, which was popularized by the English, who were introduced to it in the 17th century.

With almost 43% of the world’s total consumption, the Philippines is the largest consumer of gin.

Why We Love National Gin and Tonic Day

It tastes great

There are many ways to make it

It’s easy to make

We all know that there’s no such thing as just one glass of G&T. Thanks to the drink’s delicious and irresistible taste, we just can’t stop having it!

Although a G&T is usually made up of just a few ingredients, we can still tweak the recipe to our liking by adjusting the amount of tonic water. We can also alter the quantity of lime juice, add different flavors, and get creative.

What other cocktail has all its ingredients listed in its name? G&T is arguably the easiest drink to make; all we need is gin, tonic water, lime juice, and some ice cubes. There’s no way to go wrong, even a child could do it! Wait, forget that last part.

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