#progress is measured by the letter these days

[elwenyere]

Last Line(s) Challenge

I was tagged by the wonderful @frostbitebakery: thank you for the tag, my friend!!! The section of the Codywan Pirate AU I'm working on at the moment is a wee bit spoilery, but I've grabbed a few recent lines that I hope don't give too much away.

.....

“Your father gave me those.”

Cody’s hand jumped toward the pistol he no longer had at his side, and it was a lucky thing he’d set the lantern on the table, because over a decade of naval training might not have saved him from overturning the base and setting the parchment alight. He took a slow breath, pressing his palm against his hip.

“You left them for me to find,” Cody said, and then he turned to face Obi-Wan. Because it had been Obi-Wan’s voice that broke through his reflections, and it was Obi-Wan standing in the doorway, the lines of his face mottled by moonrise and candlelight.

.....

Open tags for anyone who would like to play! I've been pulled away recently by real-life chaos, but I would love to see what you're working on, beloveds.

[angelfrombeneth]

LET ME BE THE JUDGE OF THAT - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Enzo are best friend, you have a bi-weekly gossip session at the astronomy tower during your bi-weekly smoke break. During said gossip, Enzo drops some juicy goss about a certain slytherin boy and how he's 'packing', iygwim ;)

Warnings: SMUT, Switch Theo and Reader, Mentions of Smoking, Graphic descriptions of sex, Slight Male!Receiving Oral, Squirting

A/N: I apologise for any spelling mistakes or slightly off sentences. I did proof read but I am dyslexic with acrylics on so my spelling gets progressively worse.

Theodore Nott. The man he was. He was one of your friends, he was in the group of the original slytherins from day dot. You always harboured something towards him - you just didn't know if it was feelings or pure lust. The man was an absolute pantie dropper. He just got even hotter with puberty.

Though he wasn't as much as a whore as Mattheo, he definitely stuck his dick in a few things (stupid bitches). There were many rumours about him but no one knew it was real, no one kiss and told with him. For all you knew he could've been an absolute virgin. But one of the rumours was true, Enzo mentioned over your bi-weekly free period cig break in the Astronomy tower.

"Oh! I've got some goss for you" Enzo chuckled as he pointed his slender fingers at you. His cigarette perfectly slotted inbetween his index and middle.

"What?" You looked over at him intruiged, as you stayed sat against the railing of the tower, your feet dangling over the old cobble below.

"Theo" He smirked. If you were a dog your ears would've perked up. The way your body instantly sat up straight away as you looked over at him more alert than ever. Your hand paused infront of you, the cig butt burning out. "Its big" He winked.

"Oh fuck off 'Zo" You took a puff from your cig, letting it hit your throat before exhaling. "You're full of shit, I'm not sitting here and listening to you bullshit another stupid 'Big Dick of Hogwarts' again. Do you know I actually got with Adrien just to fucking see" You rolled your eyes.

Enzo laughed "Did you actually?!"

You nodded as you inhaled the smoke from your cigarette, flicking the end as ash fell from the tip. "Well embarassing too, was so turned off at the.. what 3 inches I had to work with, just walked out" You groaned.

Enzo snickered but collected himself. "I'm serious though, it's literally huge. He sent a picture to the lads groupchat-"

"Why?" You cut him off

"We wanted to compare dick sizes so we measure it against our DADA text books" Enzo shrugged.

"You lot are fucking stupid..." You shook your head. "But.. out of interest where abouts was it? Would you say centered with the authors name in the centre or? I know the book is 15 inches tall" You spoke, putting out your cig on the metal bar.

"Jesus fucking Christ you are a freak" Enzo laughed putting out his cigarette beside yours. "But it was to the title lettering"

You stood up in shock. "You're saying Theodore Nott has a 9 inch penis.."

"How do you know the size- Wait I'll just show you" He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pulling up the groupchat and showing you the picture. Now with Enzo, if you couldn't guess it by now, he was the male gay of the group - him and Pans representing the rainbow together. You all thought it would be Blaise he turns out he ended up hitting it off well with Luna Lovegood.

"No.. fucking way" You gripped the muggle phone as you stared at the picture. "This makes me want to fuck Theo even more 'Zo. I've been toying with the idea but fuck this solidifies it"

Enzo laughs "Well he's been having a 'dry spell at the moment' said he can't get it up because of an 'inconsistency' he said but he won't tell anyone. Sounds like he's seen something that'll only make him hard".

"Inconsistency? Pfft, I'll be the judge of that" You smirked.

"Oh I bet you will" He snickered.

"Jesus, this cig break was crazy" You laughed, giving Enzo his phone back and the two of you walked down the steps of the tower.

"I'll update you if I hear anything more from Mr 9 inches" Enzo winks.

You shook your head bidding him a goodbye.

Later that day, You made your way into the dungeons, walking to Enzo's dorm to tell him about the crazy fight between Astoria and a random Ravenclaw over Draco.

"Zo you'll never fucking believe it. Astoria ate shit today and got her ass handed to by a Raven...claw-" You flung open the door, looking up and locking eyes to chest with a very naked, towel covered sadly, Theo.

"My eyes are up here bella" He smirked.

You gawked at him, shocked to see him, especially how chiseled he was... as your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him.

"Bella?" Theo chuckled at your frozen figure.

"Respectfully Theo, I've always found you so fucking hot. But now I'm going to have to definitely suck you off" You smirked up at him.

He snickered as he gazed at you. His tongue running across his bottom lip before biting it. "You really dont play around... Come on then"

You slammed the door behind you as you lunged yourself at Theo, crashing your lips onto his. His hands roaming your body as your slid from his shoulders to his damp chest. Your fingers working through the crevasses slowly.

"My.. my.. So eager" He laughed as you pushed him back against a bed while yanking at the towel watching as he caught himself with his hands on the bed, sitting up as he supported himself completely naked.

You bit your lip as you dropped to your knees. "Fuck.. Enzo wasn't lying" You placed your hands on his thighs.

"What?" Theo froze.

"Enzo showed me your dick pic.. Its even bigger in person though" You bit your lip.

"Fucking Enzo.. So you saw my cock and now wanna suck it because of a picture?"

"Yeah pretty much" You licked a stripe up the base of his shafts to the tip as you peered up at him smirking as he let out a shaky gasp.

"You are a weird one Y/N.. Now hurry up before I fuck your face with it" He groaned slightly agitated at being teased.

"He also said about your inconsistency to get it up Nott.. you seem to not be having an issue" You smirked as you took his length into your hands as you jerked him off slightly as you kissed up his pelvis.

"Don't act so suprised bella.. We both know it was because of you and that cheeky thong of yours. Why'd you think that was OK?" Theo sighed as he bit his lip peering down at you.

"Me?" You questioned.

You peered outside your door, looking left and right before slithering out. You really wanted to grab some water from the kitchen but it was so late and you couldn't be asked to wait till breakfast.

You snuck out the common room, running down to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water but also stealing a few biscuits while you were at it.

You had successfully made it back to the common room, slowly walking down the stairs before turning to walk up the stairs to your dorm. You felt a presence near you but you, looked around and saw no one. So you shrugged it off.

Third POV

"Fuck-" Theo hissed as he flicked his cigarette out the window as he stared at your figure stood at the end of the stairs.

The way you stood in your little black knee high socks, paired with an absolute ravishing black lace thong - leaving nothing to Theo's imagination. Not only that, a tiny crop top with underboov practically spilling out. Theodore was spoilt by this view. He noticed you didn't notice him as you crept back upstairs. The growing tent in his joggers as he stood up to readjust but ending up moaning at the slight friction of the fabric.

What you didn't know, is that night Theo went and jacked off 6 times thinking about you. He'd never came so much, let alone been so weak for anyone. You were all he could think about for weeks. Even when he came to the situation of fucking a random ass Ravenclaw after a party, he couldn't get it up. It wasn't until he thought about that night. You. He could. He ended up ploughing the fuck out of that poor Ravenclaw imaging the girl was you. After that he vowed to celibacy until he could get his hands on you.

"What are you talking about" You laughed as you kitten licked his tip, staring up at him as he fought back his moans. His fists whitening as he clenched then tightly.

"I.. saw you" He gulped, submitting and sitting on the bed as you shuffled closer. "Two weeks ago- You went somewhere I don't fucking know. But you were in a tiny fucking thong and- there was just so much boob and ass.." You tilted your head as you stared at him. "Y/N- I fucked my shit so hard- I fucked a random bitch- I nearly fucking moaned your name" He was pratically begging for you at this point.

You stood up, straddling his hips as you smirked at him, caressing his cheek. "I'm flattered Nott, if you wanted to fuck me you should've just asked" You bit your lip.

"God- S'bad.. I want you so bad Y/N" He pratically whimpered as his cock twitches up against your thigh.

"Who knew Theodore Nott was a begger.. especially with all this" You chuckled, running your hand up his whole length. You lifted your thong to the side as you lined up his dick with your entrance as you slowly sank down on it. Sighing softly as the poor boy whimpered under you.

"Good boy" You cooed, ruffling his hair as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth, biting your lip at the feeling of his dick moving inside of you, hitting your G-spot every. fucking. time.

"I fucking hate.. how weak you make me" He whines, a soft pout upon his lips as his hands grasp at your clothed breasts through your uniform.

You capture his lips, kissing him softly, speaking between the breaths- "You're so.. fucking.. hot.." You sighed as you arched your back, throwing your head back as you gripped his shoulders as you sped up the pace as you rode him. Your hips buckling against his chest as you left out soft whines and moans. Supporting yourself by your arms but you were growing weak. As much as it was hot to see a submissive Theodore, his dick was perfectly hitting your G-spot every fucking time that you were crumbling.

You threw your head forward, looking at Theo as you panted, your mouth open agape as you stared down at him. Lust in your eyes. "Ruin me Nott" you gagged out.

It was like a code word or something. In that moment, Theo pulled out and flipped you over. Ripping off your uniform but leaving your tie on. Slapping your ass harshly as he theusted his dick back into you, tugging on your tie, choking you slightly as he began to piston into you from behind. You gasped, a moan catching in your throat as your head leaned back slightly at the tug of the tie as you felt Theo's hand grip at your neck tightly as you gasped.

"Good girl.. Be good for me.. principessa" He whispered lowly as he let go of your tie, wrapping an arm around your waist as he yanked you up, leaning your back against his chest. You moaned lightly, gritting your teeth as his dick absolutely crushed your insides. His lips upon your neck, biting and sucking on the skin, as his free hand gripped your left breast.

"Fuck!" You whined out as you gasped. The overwhelming feeling of his dick and his touch was driving you insane. "I'm co-" You screamed out as he sped up his thrusts. You gripped his thighs, digging your nails into them as you screamed out. Your eyes rolling back as you let out a low groan as you came harshly against his dick.

Theo let go of you, letting you fall forward against the bed as you panted heavily, breath shaky as you gripped at the sheets below you. His dick still in you as he stared down at your twitching body.

"I'm not done yet, amore mio" He smirked, slapping your ass as he pulled out. Flipping you over as he leaned over kissing you softly. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling his closer as you sucked on tongue as he gasped feeling him enter you once again.

"Theo- I don't think I can take anymore" You panted, giggling softly, slightly scared.

"You will" He smiled at you, kissing your cheek as he slowly dragged himself in and out of you. "I need to cum too, and you need to come atleast 2 more times" He winked.

His lips captured yours as he kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand finding it's way through his curls as you tugged on them with each pummel into your G-spot. Theo definitely knew how to use all inches of his deadly weapon. You did question why you left it so long.

He pulled away, peppering kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone, nibbling and sucking lightly occasionally scattering hickies and marks. "So. Beautiful" He growled as he grit his teeth. His grip on the headboard directly above you tightened as he thrusted harder onto you.

"T-Theo" you yelped, scratching down his back harshly with your sharp acrylics. Gasping as he cocked his leg up slightly hitting into you at a tilted angle driving you insane.

"Doing so good, darling. You look so beautiful" He pecked your lips as his grip tightened on his bed frame, thrusting faster as the bed below the pair of you began to creak with each movement. "Good girl.. You are doing so well" He kissed your cheek softly as you let out a soft string of moans.

Your eyes rolled back slightly as your panting became erratic, your toes curling as you shrieked, digging your nails further into his back. "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck- I'm cumming!" You screamed out as you arched your back, your legs twitching as Theo continued to relentlessly pound into you, showing no remorse for your sensitive state. You yelped loudly, throwing your head forward, locking eyes with him as the knot harshly unwrapped in your stomach as you came harshly against him. He continues to fuck you through your high causing you to squirt. Everywhere.

You threw your head back, squinting your eyes as you gritted your teeth whining as your hands fell from his back to the sheets as you fisted them. It took you a moment to come round, you were seeing white during your high. You noticed Theo slow down, but still continuing to slowly pump into you. You felt his hand caress your cheek as he chuckled softly.

"You alright bella? Thought I lost you there" He smirked softly as he kissed your forehead.

You looked up at him, panting softly, pulling his neck as you placed a soft kiss on his lips. "You're going to kill me Nott.. How have you still not came-" You groaned.

He laughed, hooking his arms under your thighs, he lifted you up causing you to shriek. The boy stood up, lowering you once against fully on his length. His hands gripping your ass as he thrusted into you. Your body recoiling against him as your skin slapped harshly against his.

"Fuck- There-" You gulped biting your lip as your hands gripped his shoulders.

"Love making you feel good.. I could make you cum all day, I don't care if i do too" You groaned, his jaw tensing as you noticed his dick twitch inside of you. He walked across the room, your body rebounding every thrust back into him as you whimpered lowly. He pushed you up against the door, his pace quickening once he leant u against it.

"Fuck yes! You're so tight for me bella, just for me-" He moaned softly into your ear as his face buried into your neck. Soft whimpers leaving his lips turning you on even more. Your hips bucked against him as you tightened your core as you began to lift yourself to bounce up and down. Soft moans leaving your lips as he bit at your neck, whining into your skin.

"M'close!-" He yelped, gulping as he kissed your roughly. You pulled him as close as you could as he continued to plough into you against the door. The pair of you gaining closer and closr to your releases. His thrusts progressively becoming more erratic.

Suddenly, Theo halted before he drop you to your feet, pulling out as you gasped at the sudden lack of pleasure. He pulls you to the bed again, pushing you face first down as he climbed ontop of you. You had no time to compute what was going on or question him. It all happened so fast. His legs eitherside yours trapping you down as he slaps your ass. A soft yelp leaving your lips as he spread your ass and thighs with his hand as he pushed back in. The boy was fucking mounting you like a horse.

He kisses your shoulder messily as he bites down on it, his thrusts becoming messy as you gripped at the sheets again. "Tell me if your- uncomftable" He groaned in your ear. His thrusts growing messier and messier as he sped up. His poor bed frame screaming for a break, constant creaking and slamming against the wall as you both moaned. You were worried for the dorm next door, the pair of you didn't think of a silencing charm.

His whimpering driving you over the edge as you screamed into the pillow. Theo knew you were close, he could feel it as you tightened around him.

The boy chased for his high along with you. You both letting out some rather unattractive groans and whines as you drew close together.

"Sei cosi' sexy" (You're so sexy) He groaned, nibbling at your shoulder as he continued to whimper softly in your ear. His pants become erratic as he continued to thrust into you, at a wildly animalistic pace. "Mio, tu sei mio..~" (Mine, you are mine..~) he whined out, pushing your hair aside as he sucked at your neck. His pants becoming gasps as his dick twitched inside of you. You had no clue what he was saying, but his Italian accent was making you even more wet.

"FUCK!-" you screamed as you sobbed into the pillow, biting the plush object as you harshly came against his thrusts as he sped up one last time, before delving deep inside of you, practically burying himself and his cum deep inside of you.

"Porca puttana, cosi' stretto! Tutto mio. Ti amo, cazzo-" (Holy shit, so tight! All mine. I fucking love you-) He groaned as he held himself above you, his arms shaking as he panted heavily. "Holy fuck.." He collected himself before pulling out and crashing beside you, pushing his hair out of his face.

The pair of you had a few minutes of silence, panting heavily and collecting yourself together.

You lifted your hair out of the pillow as you turned to look at his fucked out face beside you. You let out a soft snicker as you moved to cuddle him, putting your head on his chest.

Theo didn't know you knew a bit of Italian not much, but enough to know he just professed his love for you.

"Ti amo" You smiled up at him. His face shot to you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"You understood?-" He gulped.

"Only slightly but, I love you too Theo" You kissed his cheek.

He shook his head, laying a soft kiss on your lips.

The two of you cuddled a bit longer before you retreated to the shower where you went another round. You don't know how you did it. Your legs certainly hate you at this point. He decided to leave some nasty bite marks and hickies on your thighs. He even drew blood a few times but that's something the two of you can toy with later...

Later you stumbled down the stairs in one of Theo's tshirts. Your hair very messy and skin peppered in hickies and bites from neck to thigh. Theo followed behind you.

You noticed your friends sat upon the couches in the common room.

You looked to Enzo "Can confirm it is definitely 9 inches" You both laughed as your friends look at you confused.

"Who-" Draco questioned before gasps came from them all as Theo walked downstairs, covered in scratch marks, bites and hickies as he stood behind you ruffling his hair in just his trackies.

"Oh my god" Pansy gawked.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[glittercake]

For Samtember Day 3: 'Costume' @samsseptember

“How long’s this going to take? Let me speak to Ayo.”

On his end of the line, Sam snorts, then does a quick scan of the workshop to see which Wakandan saw him smiling at his boyfriend this time. Okoye had already drawn an incredibly immature picture of Sam and Bucky and pinned it to the notice board in the palace foyer.

“Ayo doesn’t want to speak to you,” Sam says. He rotates his arm along with the hologram. It beeps a few times and records his biceps measurement, then moves to his chest. “Besides, it’s nice here. I ain’t in a rush.”

Bucky groans. Sam laughs again. “Yeah, you’re not. I’m dying over here.”

“Because you gotta work with Torres? Grow up, Buck.”

“He’s alright. No, I’m—”

“Before you say that, remember you’re calling on Wakandan tech, and if Aneka calls me Captain Lovey Pants one more time, I’m breaking up with you.”

This time, instead of complaining, Bucky cackles. It goes on for a few seconds. And yeah, Sam’s smiling again, all to himself.

“Stop,” he says fondly, listens to Bucky laughing on the other end. So maybe he lied. Maybe he could rush a little to get home. Maybe he misses this idiot just a little. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if they tossed this new suit through a speed cycle and threw him on a jet back home tonight.

“If you laugh, Captain, your chest expands and corrupts the reading,” Lerato tells him when she restarts the measurement. Again.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.” Sam holds still, bites back a laugh. “You’re getting me in trouble, man. I gotta go.”

“Yeah, alright. Gotta get started on my dinner for one, anyway.”

“You’ll be fine, baby. I’ll send an update later.”

“Later, sweetheart.”

“Cheers, Buck.”

“Finally. My ears can not stand another second of that.” Ayo has come to check on the suit’s progress and gives Sam a sideways look.

Sam sighs. “Of course you heard.”

“It’s custom here to give the new leaders as much grief as possible—this is looking good. Any requests? James sent a list, but it went missing. Strange, hm?” A smirk plays around her mouth.

Sam smiles. Bucky is still very much banned from Wakanda despite his letter of apology. “Yeah, if it’s anything like his shopping lists, that’s a good thing. Uh. Just one request, really.”

Ayo fiddles with the inputs and projections and slides a few specs around. “I can not turn Redwing into an actual bird, Samuel. We talked about this.”

“That’s what you claim, yeah, and I’m gonna keep asking, but no, not that.”

She gives him a suspicious look. Probably because whatever is upgradable on this suit has been upgraded, it even has an unimaginable amount of secret pockets and he won’t admit it out loud but he’s using those for lube and condoms and gum and there is nothing the Kingdom of Wakanda can do about it.

“Alright, the suit’s a little loose in the back. That’s all.”

“In the back? Samuweli, uthetha ngantoni?”

“You know. Part of this gig is the image. I gotta look good.” He motions vaguely to his ass. “This just needs to be a little… tighter.”

Ayo stares at him, then blinks. “That old man has got you good, doesn’t he?”

“Hey, I see how you look at Aneka. Yesterday she mentioned peaches and what did you do last night—” Ayo groans, rolls her eyes. “—no, tell me what you did last night!”

Her mouth twitches, but she schools her expression, points at him. “Wena. You are on thin ice.”

“You baked her a whole peach pie, that’s what. You feel me?”

“She likes pie,” Ayo says with a soft little sparkle behind her eyes, regarding Sam for a moment before returning to the monitors. “Fine. Tighter in the back.” She fiddles with two of the measurements on the suit hologram, then presses Enter.

Sam gives her his best grin when the machine circles down to his hips. “Thanks. I owe you.”

Ayo gathers her spear and clipboard. “We are hosting a few Ghanaian warriors tomorrow night. They would love to meet you. Wear the new suit.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I guess ‘Captain Lovey Pants’ has a whole new meaning now, eh?” Sam groans, and Ayo throws her head back and laughs and then some on her way out of the workshop.

The scanner zips into motion, and within seconds, the material tightens around his glutes, squeezing.

“Uh, Lerato! Ayo? Not this tight!”

“Hm,” Lerato says, titling her head and peeking around at Sam’s behind, smiles then shrugs. “I don’t see the problem, Captain. Didn’t you say it’s all about the image?”

“Ugh, I did.” Sam regrets everything. These folks are relentless.

“Well,” Lerato says, a sneaky, mischievous look in her eyes. “This is quite the image.”

[mkmas]

Take Me, My Beloved Villain - Jude Jazza

sorry for any mistakes 🙇‍♀️ also everything is owned by cybird, i only translated

Kate: Ju-Jude, please let go! I can walk on my own!

Jude grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and dragged me down the corridor.

Jude: You’re going to run away as soon as I let go. I have to be cautious.

Kate: I won’t run away! I will pay back what I owe you…!

Today is the 31st of December.

I had been helping Victor make preparations for the countdown party since this morning.

However, Jude suddenly appeared in the kitchen.

“Have you forgotten that you owe me for saving your life yesterday? I will have you pay me back in labor.” …….. Then, he kidnapped me.

(I’m grateful to Jude for saving me from almost getting shot last night. He saved my life)

(But…)

Kate: It must be hard for Victor to prepare alone…..

Jude: Ha, you’re worried about him? How kind of the princess.

Jude: But it’s useless to try to measure someone who is the Queen's aide by ordinary standards.

Jude: No matter how much you complain, it's already decided that you're going to help me with my work. Shut up and follow me.

And so, I was forcibly brought to the common room.

On the desk is a familiar typewriter.

Jude: Use it to transcribe the handwritten documents. The format should be the same as the sample.

Ellis: Jude, I got what you asked for.

Ellis, who came into the room after us, had his hands full of papers.

Kate: Thi-This many…..!?

I trembled, and Jude gave me a cold glare.

Jude: Can’t do it? Was your life so light that you didn't deserve a job of this magnitude?

Jude: Sorry….. I must have overestimated.

Kate: Life isn’t light, even for me. But….. It’s too much, I don’t know if I can do it alone.

Ellis: It's okay, Kate. Jude wouldn't ask someone who isn’t capable.

(….. Ellis and Jude are like carrot and stick)***

Kate: ….. I understand. I will do it wholeheartedly…..

Jude: Don’t put your heart into it. All I want is speed and accuracy.

Jude: If you miss even 1 letter….. Do you want to know what happens?

I began work with a twitch in my cheeks, sensing that it was more than just a threat.

———

Jude: ….. That’s enough.

Jude stopped my work at 7pm, a few hours after we started.

Kate: Eh…. But it looks like there are still some paperwork left to do…..

Jude: No matter how much progress you make, there's no point in reviewing if I can't catch up.

(But I think Jude's revision work is well on its way….?)

Jude: ….. What’s with that face? I told you to stop, but you’re not happy?

Kate: N-No. It’s not like that.

(….. That’s right. Jude said so, so let’s call it a day)

I've learned from experience that pestering him will only make him grumpier, so I decided to clean up my desk.

Kate: What kind of year would you like to have next year, Jude? Do you have any resolutions?

Jude: Resolutions? I have nothing like that.

Jude: The year changes, but in reality, there’s no actual real effect. It's just an arbitrary boundary decided by humans.

Jude: Last year, this year, next year, nothing I do will be any different.

(If I recall correctly….. Jude needs money to fulfill his promise to someone)

(That’s what you’re working so hard for, right)

Kate: Jude is pushing forward towards his goal.…. It’s amazing.

Jude: Flattery will get you nothing in return.

Kate: I’m not looking for anything in return, I really do think so.

It didn't mean anything, but Jude frowned as if he had eaten something he didn't like.

He waved his hand as if to tell me to get the hell out of the room.

———

Victor: Kate! Are you finished with the work Jude asked you to do?

Kate: Yes, he doesn't need any more help today.

Victor: The best timing, we were just about to eat.

Victor: I'm glad Jude kept his promise to me.

(Oh, by the way…..)

———

It was when Jude came to the kitchen to take me away.

Kate: Sorry, Victor.…. I have to help Jude.

Victor: Don't worry about it. I'll prepare everything for you too!

Victor: But….. With all these delicious food prepared, you have to get Kate back in time for dinner, okay?

Jude: It’s up to her to decide when she can go home.

———

(….. Jude, I guess you let me go because it was time for dinner.)

The timing of the work being stopped seemed unnatural, so it must be it.

Then, time passed as everyone gathered in the dining room to eat.

However, Jude never came to the dining room.

(I guess his work isn't done yet…..)

Curious, I kept looking at the door, but there was no sign of anyone coming in.

Roger: Kate, could you do me a favor?

Kate: Yes, what is it?

Roger: I want you to bring Jude some food.

Roger: Jude hasn't eaten anything since lunch, has he? If he dies, we'll have a lot of work to do starting in the new year and it will be troublesome.

Roger: He would get annoyed if I nag him so I would be grateful if the young lady can encourage him.

Kate: …..! I understand!

Having found a good reason to visit Jude, I put some food on the plate and left the dining room.

Alfons: ….. Saying you’re worried when you’re really not, how shameless.

Roger: It’s not really a lie, is it? Well, the biggest motive was that the young lady was worried.

———

I came to the common room with a bowl of hot soup and a loaf of bread.

(Huh…..? Jude isn’t here. He left his papers here, so he’ll probably be back soon)

There, my eyes fell on the desk that Jude had been using.

(Ah….. I knew it, it was a lie that the revision process couldn't keep up)

The paperwork I had finished producing had long since been reviewed, and another new set of work documents was spread out on the desk.

(From the moment we met... Jude has been mercilessly and arrogantly cornering me.)

(So why does he sometimes give me kindness that is hard to understand?)

Is it just a whim, or is it to win me over and use me.…. or is it something more?

(….. I don't know what Jude's true feelings are, which is why I'm so curious and want to know)

But, even in the midst of uncertainty, there are certain things.

I hope Jude’s dream comes true one day, those are my feelings.

(That's right! Let's make a wish for the New Year!)

(I think I'll use.….. this wooden desk that Jude used)

Kate: Touch wood…..

While whispering, I tapped the desk lightly. It's a spell that has been passed down in England for a long time to ward off evil spirits.

Jude: ...... What are you doing?

Kate: !?

I heard a doubtful voice behind me and turned to see Jude standing there.

Kate: Wh-When did you get here…..!?

Jude: Just now. …… So, what’s up with the princess?

Jude: Muttering to the desk with a grim look, were you trying to put a curse on me?

Kate: It’s the opposite! I brought dinner, and gave Jude a good luck spell.

Stuttering my words, I explained that I had no malicious intentions.

Jude: I don't need silly wishes like "I hope my wish comes true".

Kate: N-No! I didn’t wish like that.

Jude: ….. Oh?

Jude raised an eyebrow in interest. I felt like he was urging me to continue, so I opened my mouth again.

Kate: ….. Jude says if you owe something, you should pay it back.

Jude: Loans exist to be paid back.

Kate: If the loan is to be paid back…..

Kate: In that same sense, I hope your efforts will be rewarded as well.

Jude: …..

Kate: That’s why….. I wished that Jude’s efforts would be rewarded.

Jude: ….. What a childish wish.

Jude's reaction was as cold as I expected, but that was okay.

Whatever I wish in my heart, is my choice.

Jude: And yours?

Kate: What is?

Jude: Resolutions, resolutions. I'll have to pay you back for your questionable spells. It's a pain in the ass, but.

I never thought that he would give back what I had wished for on my own.

This kind of discipline may be one of the reasons why Jude has been so successful in his work.

(My resolutions for this year are…..)

Kate: ….. I would like to get to know Jude and spend more time with him.

Jude: Spend even more time with me? Come on, you don't have to make that your resolution.

Kate: Eh…..?

Jude: You owe me a lot, remember?

Jude: You don't think you can pay back in a day what you owe me for saving your life, do you?

Kate: Eh, it’s not right!?

Jude: You said it yourself, life is not light. It's not even close.

Jude: Don't even think you can leave me until you pay off all your debts.

(Then that means….. I can spend a lot of time by Jude's side?)

Jude was probably just stating the obvious, that I owe him and I should pay him back, and that there is no special meaning to this.

(It bothers me that I'm treated like a labor force, but still... I don't know why... I'm happy)

The fact that I wanted to be by your side and was allowed to do so even for whatever reason warms my heart.

Jude: ….. Respond.

Kate: Ye-Yes…..! Next year too-

At that moment, as if timed perfectly, a bang sounded.

When I turned around, I saw large fireworks going off in the distance from the common room window.

(….. Oh, it's the New Year already)

Kate: ….. Let’s get along well this year too, Jude.

Jude: Haha, what a gentle and polite bow….. Hopeless.

Jude removes his gaze from mine to resume his work.

It was a new year that came without a countdown, but that didn’t bother me.

Maybe it's because I'm looking forward to being by Jude’s side this year.

***carrot and stick (飴と鞭) or candy and whip = combination of reward + punishment.

[dxmedstudent]

What do GPs do?

For the past few years, there's been a constant undercurrent of hostility towards the medical field in mainstream media, particularly GPs. Especially from certain conservative former doctors who write in to the Torygraph.

One of the charges levelled against GPs is that they are purpotedly ruining the NHS by not working enough hours. They need to be making more time for appointments and are all shirking.

How do GPs work?

GP work is measured in sessions, defined by the BMA as a 4h 10 minute time slot. 3 hours of this is meant to be clinical time, with some admin time for tasks - meant to be at least and hour. Typically, a whole day will involve a session in the morning and a session in the afternoon.

What do GPs do? The BMA breaks it down here. I also find articles by GPs can be useful for explaining. When not talking to patients, we are sending referrals or liaising with specialists about their care. We are checking blood test results and other investigations that were carried out by the practice, and then informing patients. We are filling prescriptions- each time a patient asks for their prescription to be refilled, a doctor or pharmacist is checking the order and whether it is safe to give, abd whether we are monitiring blood tests and keeping the patient safe. We are reading letters from specialists and actioning their recommendations.

However, in reality, multiple surveys reveal that GPs spend significantly more time working than what they are directly paid for. Whilst a 6 session GP should be spending around 24 hours at work, it's closer to 38 hours on average. GPs report spending up to 40% of their working time on admin - much of it being unpaid time outside of the hours they are contractually hired for. I and most GPs I know routinely stay late at work in order to make sure patient care is completed. We're in before 9am and leave between 7 or 8pm.

Add to that that many might have further responsibilities, especially if they are a partner in the practice.

Funnily enough, full time in general practice is considered to be 8 sessions. That's 4 long days. Gone are the days when anyone would consider a 5 day working week for GPs, because the workload is increasingly intense and sessions generate more paperwork than they used to.

Demand Is Increasing

GPs may be moving towards working less sessions, but that's because our work is getting more complex. As patients live longer, with more complicated combinations of illnesses and treatments, and we exist in a society that has progressively defunded social care and benefits, and impoverished our most vulnerable patients, there are more calls on our time abd attention than ever before. Stripped hospital services are increasingly rejecting our referrals, often inappropriately and against actual guidelines. Services are being pushed onto GPs via shared care agreements that would once have been handled by specialist teams in clinic. Services that we heavily rely on to serve our patients are sometimes defunded or disappear as contracts end or are transferred to new providers. Long wait lists lead to exasperated patients repeatedly seeing their GPs to manage issues that can't be managed well in the community.

There's a narrative in the media that appointments are impossible to get, but in reality, nationally GP surgeries are providing more appointments per month than they did before the pandemic. For example, 25.7 million appointments (excluding Covid vaccinations) were delivered by GP practices in December 2023, an increase of 9% compared to pre-pandemic. Practices are trying to find how to offer more appointments on a budget and how to improve access and find alterantive ways to serve patients; for example online forms, so that phone lines are freed up for vulnerable patients. Many practices are also offering longer appointments as many patients have complex needs.

Let's talk Pay

People also assume GPs are rich, but that's not really the case, especially given most of us wrent working full time. Average pay for a session is somewhere between 10k and 12k a year for each session a week that you work, depending on things like seniority and location. So for example, a 5 session GP earning 10k per session can expect to earn 50k a year. That's barely above the London average salary of 44k for a job that requires medical school, often an additional bachelor's degree and then at least 5 years of postgraduate training at minimum. That's more comfortable than a lot of vulnerable people, but it's nowhere near what most people think. Even if someone is paid higher per session and working more sessions, the average is still closer to 80 or 90k for salaried GP roles.

I've found figures that suggest the average GP salary is just over 100k, but that includes people doing separate private work or being partners, where in reality these are different roles that are paid differently. Partners are effectively shareholders in the practice. Locum or private work is much more lucrative and needs to be considered separately from a standard salaried role.

Some Partners may be earning £100k-150 in a good year, but that will be after working a LOT of overtime outside of their clinics, abd is in line with hospital specialists. The proportion of GPs earning more than that are miniscule. And honestly, if someone is working a ton of extra hours with their local LMC or med school or deanery, or doing a ton of locum work in evenings and weekends, I'm happy for them to be earning more money than me. Extra work and hours should be rewarded.

The Gender Aspect

I think we need to address the fact that complaining about doctors choosing to work less than what is defined as full time, often goes hand in hand with people complaining about women having the temerity to work in medicine. Apparently we're devaluing the profession by making it too female, going part time and having children. Why us ut that nobidy cares about whether men are going less than full time to look after their kids, and whether fathers are missing out on their children's upbringing?

As women, many of us are still facing sexism in our working lives. Whilst still having to deal with the fact that even uf we earn more and work longer hours than our menfolk, we usually end up doing the majority of the childcare and housework. Women in medicine are more likely to go less than full time because we are more likely to feel compelled to take on unpaid labour at home. Like our non medical sisters.

For reference, the full time nursing week in the NHS is 37.5h - with some variation between 36-40h depending on where you work. Working part time would benefit nurses, too. The nursing workforce is mostly women, and yet there's not the same outrage about their working hours or going less than full time, because women being nurses is expected. People don't seem to care about nurses' working conditions or the stresses they are under, and honestly most articles ignore the financial stresses or difficulties of most NHS workers because they are normally focused on doctors as a resource that they want to exploit maximally.

We aren't out there trying to police what hours other professions work - or at least, we shouldn't be. So why does the public feel entitled to dictate what hours doctors should be working? It's not like people are being paid for hours they aren't working!

[metamorphesque]

<<Your Excellency, Mr. Minister, At this moment, as discussions are underway regarding the deportation of Armenians, I notice that there is a tendency to primarily attribute the blame to the governors-general and chiefs. I have the honor to bring to Your Excellency's attention the atrocities committed in the name of science... In December 1915, in Yerznka, under the orders of Tevfik Salim, the chief physician of the 3rd Army Corps, the contaminated blood taken from patients with spotted typhus was used as a vaccine on innocent Armenians condemned to exile without "activation." Such experiments are typically conducted on specific laboratory animals. As a consequence of those actions, many of the individuals subjected to the experiment became ill and died. Prior to the vaccination, they were deceived, being told that the vaccinations were administered as a preventive measure against typhus. The organizer of these experiments, Hamdi Suad, a professor of pathological anatomy at the Ottoman Medical University, published the results of his research in the pages of the "Medical-Military Newspaper of Constantinople," announcing that they were applied to those sentenced to death. However, I, your humble servant, witnessed everything and can attest that the subjects of the professor's deadly experiments had no other crime than being Armenian. These facts can be corroborated by Dr. Refet Bey, the chief physician of Yerznka Central Hospital, two Armenian doctors who worked with him, as well as Dr. Selaheddin Bey, the chief physician of the Yerznka Red Cross. Therefore, I, your humble servant, declare that in addition to political crimes, scientific crimes were also committed, about which I am prepared to provide full explanations.>>

Published in the "Türkçe İstanbul" newspaper on December 23, 1918, the author of the letter is the Turkish doctor-surgeon Haydar Jemal; let's not forget this name. He addressed the letter to the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Turkey.

In the issue of the same newspaper on December 24, 1918, that is, the following day, another Turkish doctor, Selaheddin, wrote the following (let's remember him with kind words):

<<Yesterday, I was cited as a direct witness of several events in the open letter of surgeon Haydar Jemal addressed to the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Being aware of what transpired in Yerznka Central Hospital, I consider it a matter of conscience to elucidate this matter. In 1915, numerous Armenians who struggled to conceal themselves in Yerznka were chosen and treated as experimental subjects in the city's central hospital, subjected to microbiological experiments typically conducted on guinea pigs and rabbits. This is how numerous Armenians perished...>>

Here is also a third letter written by the same doctor, Selaheddin, but printed in another newspaper, "Alemdar", on January 8, 1919. Let's reflect on his name once more, with kindness in our hearts.

<<If we acknowledge that the government of the "Union and Progress" (let's also include Germany) never valued conscience, morality, honor, and all sacred values, one can easily grasp the guiding principle that led to inflicting so much suffering on Armenians. At that time, no one demanded accountability for the atrocities committed, and many believed that all of it would go unpunished. It was this mindset that led to such experiments with the spotted typhus vaccine being conducted in Yerznka... We possess ample evidence to substantiate the accusations we've made. It's noteworthy that despite the numerous speeches delivered, I refrained from publishing anything on this matter, while uninformed doctors surfaced in the press to deny rightful accusations. This circumstance compelled me to take up the pen. It's important to note that these individuals, who seek attention, are pandering to the crowd and resorting to sensational measures. If informed and authoritative figures take charge of this matter, justice will prevail. And in this case, there are also culprits involved in matters of deportation, pogroms, and plunder. Our doctors need not worry. The perpetrators have been identified. If there are those who wish to shield criminals, let them await the return of the government of the "Union and Progress" party. The truth will be established not through the publication of newspaper articles, but in the courtroom.>>

"A Shirt Made of Fire", Vardges Petrosyan (translated by metamorphesque)

All the names mentioned in the translated section are of real people. Similarly, the events described are based on real occurrences.

[xximpressions]

The Duchess (11)

Anthony Bridgerton x Duchess!reader

Series Summary: After coming into a title you did not expect, you have a chance encounter with a handsome rescuer.

Chapter Summary: Shock

Word Count: 1,100

A/N: For those of you who need a boost :)

Bridgerton Masterlist

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Following some more much needed rest after your wondrous conversation with the Viscount, your body’s healing continued to progress in the way the doctor had said. By the time the next morning came around, you were recovered enough to make a celebrated appearance at breakfast.

Upon stepping foot into the dining room, the surprised cheers and sighs of relief welcomed you to the table.

But before you could take a seat, the youngest Bridgerton shot out of hers in order to wrap her arms around you in a generous hug.

“Duchess! I am so glad that you are alright!”

Smiling to yourself at such a kind reception, you returned the girl’s embrace before graciously saying to her and the rest of the room alike,

“As am I, Miss Hyacinth.”

Lady Bridgerton, after also allowing her eyes and mother’s heart a moment to be reassured of your happy recovery, made sure to direct her daughter to let go of you so that you both could have a seat at the dining table.

But her eyes were not the only ones to catch how, as you approached your usual chair, Anthony rushed out of his in order to assist you in sitting down.

Because you made sure to send him a grateful smile after he did so, you missed how the rest of the Bridgertons and Bassets that were present sent and shared secretive smiles amongst themselves once they witnessed such a display.

From that breakfast onward, you contently continued regaining your strength. And by the end of the week, you were well enough to travel back to London along with everyone else who had retired to the Duke’s country estate.

Wishing to show your appreciation to the family that had shown you nothing but kindness, you made it a point to have individual notes sent to the two different households as soon as you arrived at and were home within your own city dwellings. Those notes invited them to a private tea party you had decided to host during your journey back.

Holding an intimate gathering such as a tea party compared to the grand soiree they had hosted for you seemed like such a small return on such a big favor.

However, you could not help telling yourself that it is was at least a start.

Due to your attention to detail, your stride was a little less than measured as you walked from the variety of light dishes that were being served, to adjusting the cushions laid on the couch, and then to your own pacing back and forth as you waited for them on the day of.

Though you were aware of your duties as a Duchess to host gatherings, the required year spent mourning your late husband had deprived you of any chance to do so until now.

Thankfully, when their presence was announced, the nerves you previously held almost immediately melted away at the sight of the Viscount being one of the first through the door followed by the rest of his siblings, his mother, and the Duke of Hastings.

As if no time had passed, everyone was quickly settled in and conversing amongst themselves while tea was served.

You were sitting next to and happily speaking with Anthony on one of the sofas in the drawing room while he sipped at his cup and you at yours. Once again, you almost got lost in the world he seemed to always create around you both when you were brought back to reality by the approach of a footman who held a silver tray carrying an envelope.

Bowing and holding it out to you, he waited till he was able to interrupt your conversation with the Viscount by saying,

“A letter, your Grace.”

Given the fact that you rarely received such a thing, you were unable to hide your perplexion as you accepted it and thanked the servant.

But as soon as the envelope was in your hands, your confusion turned to concern as you realized what you were holding.

Apparently, you were not the only one since Lady Bridgerton could not help asking from across the way,

“Is that her Majesty’s royal stationary?”

Holding the note a bit more reverently, you nodded your head at her question and said in reply,

“Yes, I believe so.”

Though your fingers were set to pull the ribbon that held the envelope in place, it was only after you received an encouraging nod from the man seated next to you that you were able to do so.

So focused on your task, you did not notice how a tense silence had blanketed the room as those present waited to hear whatever news you had to share.

Opening, unfolding, and quickly using your eyes to read through the letter’s contents, the atmosphere became tenser still when you announced in a grave voice.

“The Queen has summoned us all to the palace.”

With a confused and furrowed brow, the Viscount questioningly replied,

“But whatever for?”

With a thick swallow of your throat, you said,

“Someone has brought forth a challenge to my claim as Duchess, so we are all apparently summoned as witnesses to determine if the challenge holds any merit.”

As the seriousness of the situation made the silence return, you simply took in a deep breath before sighing and resignedly saying,

“We must leave at once.”

Being met with no resistance, everyone quietly rose from their seats and filed into their respective carriages that soon set off in the direction of the palace.

After reaching the meticulously manicured and decorated building, you, the Bridgertons, and the Bassets alike were all escorted to the room in which her Majesty held court and were greeted with the sight of the Queen regally sitting on her throne.

While the others joined the crowd of courtiers standing on either side of the aisle, you gracefully made your way to the front until you were at the foot of the throne and gave a respectful curtsey before rising again as the Queen began to address you.

“Duchess, you have been accused of being unsuitable for the occupation your title affords. What have you to say?”

Swallowing your nerves, you only took a moment to compose your response.

“Only this your Majesty…might I be allowed to face the one who has deemed me to be unsuitable?”

With a brief nod of her head, the Queen directed her guards to let in your accuser.

And you really wanted to be anything but surprised when you saw your former brother-in-law begin to be escorted into the throne room.

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[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

July 6, 2023

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

JUL 7, 2023

The payroll processing firm ADP said today that private sector jobs jumped by 497,000 in June, far higher than the Dow Jones consensus estimate predicted. The big gains were in leisure and hospitality, which added 232,000 new hires; construction with 97,000; and trade, transportation and utilities with 90,000. Annual pay rose at a rate of 6.4%. Most of the jobs came from companies with fewer than 50 employees. 

The Dow Jones Industrial Average, which is a way to measure the stock market by aggregating certain stocks, dropped 372 points as the strong labor market made traders afraid that the Fed would raise interest rates again to cool the economy. Higher interest rates make borrowing more expensive, slowing investment. 

Today, as the Washington Post’s climate reporter Scott Dance warned that the sudden surge of broken heat records around the globe is raising alarm among scientists, Bloomberg’s Cailley LaPara reported that the incentives in the Inflation Reduction Act for emerging technologies to address climate change have long-term as well as short-term benefits. 

Dance noted that temperatures in the North Atlantic are already close to their typical annual peak although we are early in the season, sea ice levels around Antarctica are terribly low, and Monday was the Earth’s hottest day in at least 125,000 years and Tuesday was hotter. LaPara noted that while much attention has been paid to the short-term solar, EV, and wind industries in the U.S., emerging technologies for industries that can’t be electrified—technologies like sustainable aviation fuel, clean hydrogen, and direct air capture, which pulls carbon dioxide out of the air—offer huge potential to reduce emissions by 2030. 

This news was the backdrop today as President Biden was in South Carolina to talk about Bidenomics. After touting the huge investments of both public and private capital that are bringing new businesses and repaired infrastructure to that state, Biden noted that analysts have said that the new laws Democrats have passed will do more for Republican-dominated states than for Democratic ones. “Well, that’s okay with me,” Biden said, “because we’re all Americans. Because my view is: Wherever the need is most, that’s the place we should be helping. And that’s what we’re doing. Because the way I look at it, the progress we’re making is good for all Americans, all of America.”

On Air Force One on the way to the event, deputy press secretary Andrew Bates began his remarks to the press: “President Biden promised that he would be a president for all Americans, regardless of where they live and regardless of whether they voted for him or not. He also promised to rebuild the middle class. The fact that Bidenomics has now galvanized over $500 billion in job-creating private sector investment is the newest testament to how seriously he takes fulfilling those promises.”

Bates listed all the economic accomplishments of the administration and then added: “the most powerful endorsement of Bidenomics is this: Every signature economic law this President has signed, congressional Republicans who voted “no” and attacked it on Fox News then went home to their district and hailed its benefits.” He noted that “Senator Lindsey Graham called the Inflation Reduction Act ‘a nightmare for South Carolina,’” then, “[j]ust two months later, he called BMW’s electric vehicles announcement ‘one of the most consequential announcements in the history of the state of South Carolina.’” “Representative Joe Wilson blasted the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law but later announced, ‘I welcome Scout Motors’ plans to invest $2 billion and create up to 4,000 jobs in South Carolina.’ Nancy Mace called Bidenomics legislation a…‘disaster,’ then welcomed a RAISE grant to Charleston.” 

“[W]hat could speak to the effectiveness of Bidenomics more than these conversions?” Bates asked.

While Biden is trying to sell Americans on an economic vision for the future, the Republican leadership is doubling down on dislike of President Biden and the Democrats. Early on the morning of July 2, Trump, who remains the presumptive 2024 Republican presidential nominee, shared a meme of President Biden that included a flag reading: “F*CK BIDEN AND F*CK YOU FOR VOTING FOR HIM!” The next morning, in all caps, he railed against what he called “massive prosecutorial conduct” and “the weaponization of law enforcement,” asking: “Do the people of this once great nation even have a choice but to protest the potential doom of the United States of America??? 2024!!!”

Prosecutors have told U.S. district judge Aileen Cannon that they want to begin Trump’s trial on 37 federal charges for keeping and hiding classified national security documents, and as his legal trouble heats up, Trump appears to be calling for violence against Democrats. On June 29 he posted what he claimed was the address of former president Barack Obama, inspiring a man who had been at the January 6 attack on the U.S. Capitol to repost the address and to warn, “We got these losers surrounded! See you in hell,…Obama’s [sic].” Taylor Tarranto then headed there with firearms and ammunition, as well as a machete, in his van. Secret Service agents arrested him. 

Indeed, those crossing the law for the former president are not faring well. More than 1,000 people have been arrested for their participation in the events of January 6, and those higher up the ladder are starting to feel the heat as well. Trump lawyer Lin Wood, who pushed Trump’s 2020 election lies, was permitted to “retire” his law license on Tuesday rather than be disbarred. Trump lawyer John Eastman is facing disbarment in California for trying to overturn the 2020 election with his “fake elector” scheme, a ploy whose legitimacy the Supreme Court rejected last week. And today, Trump aide Walt Nauta pleaded not guilty to federal charges of withholding documents and conspiring to obstruct justice for allegedly helping Trump hide the classified documents he had at Mar-a-Lago. 

Trump Republicans—MAGA Republicans—are cementing their identity by fanning fears based on cultural issues, but it is becoming clear those are no longer as powerful as they used to be as the reality of Republican extremism becomes clear. 

Yesterday the man who raped and impregnated a then-9-year-old Ohio girl was sentenced to at least 25 years in prison. Last year, after the Supreme Court overturned the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision recognizing the constitutional right to abortion, President Biden used her case to argue for the need for abortion access. Republican lawmakers, who had criminalized all abortions after 6 weeks, before most people know they’re pregnant, publicly doubted that the case was real (Ohio Attorney General Dave Yost told the Fox News Channel there was “not a damn scintilla of evidence” to support the story). Unable to receive an abortion in Ohio, the girl, who had since turned 10, had to travel to Indiana, where Dr. Caitlin Bernard performed the procedure.

Republican Indiana attorney general Todd Rokita complained—inaccurately—that Bernard had not reported child abuse and that she had violated privacy laws by talking to a reporter, although she did not identify the patient and her employer said she acted properly. Bernard was nonetheless reprimanded for her handling of privacy issues and fined by the Indiana licensing board. Her employer disagreed.

As Republican-dominated states have dramatically restricted abortion, they have fueled such a backlash that party members are either trying to avoid talking about it or are now replacing the phrase “national ban” with “national consensus” or “national standard,” although as feminist writer Jessica Valenti, who studies this language, notes, they still mean strict antiabortion measures. In the House, some newly-elected and swing-district Republicans have blocked abortion measures from coming to a vote out of concern they will lose their seats in 2024. 

But it is not at all clear the issue will go away. Yesterday, those committed to protecting abortion rights in Ohio turned in 70% more signatures than they needed to get a measure amending the constitution to protect that access on the ballot this November. In August, though, antiabortion forces will use a special election to try to change the threshold for constitutional amendments, requiring 60% of voters rather than a majority.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[mariacallous]

WASHINGTON — The Biden administration warned that it could restrict weapons transfers to Israel if the flow of humanitarian aid into the Gaza Strip does not increase. 

A letter sent Sunday by Secretary of State Antony Blinken and Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin accused Israel of sharply reducing humanitarian assistance to Gaza Palestinians. The letter also referred to a memorandum President Joe Biden issued in February linking military aid to how the receiving country administers humanitarian relief. 

Israel was not named in the February memo but was widely seen as its target, at a time when the two governments were growing increasingly at odds over Israel’s conduct of the war.

“The amount of assistance entering Gaza in September was the lowest of any month during the past year,” the letter said, noting that the delivery of relief had improved considerably in the weeks immediately following Biden’s warning before decreasing again.

Giving Israel a 30-day deadline, the letter called for allowing in at least 350 trucks of relief a day, up from 69 per day in August, according to aid agencies. The letter also called for allowing people crowded in the coastal zone to move inward and for the removal of restrictions impeding the delivery of aid. The possible consequences outlined in the letter are broad, ranging from a second warning to suspending deliveries of weapons. 

“Failure to demonstrate a sustained commitment to implementing and maintaining these measures may have implications for U.S. policy,” it said, referring to Biden’s national security memo. “Remediation could include actions from refreshing the assurances to suspending any further transfers of defense articles or, as appropriate, defense services.”

Democratic officials have consistently called on Israel to let more aid into Gaza. The letter was sent the same day that Vice President Kamala Harris, the Democratic presidential nominee, tweeted her concern at the slowdown in aid delivery.

“The U.N. reports that no food has entered northern Gaza in nearly 2 weeks,” Harris wrote. “Israel must urgently do more to facilitate the flow of aid to those in need. Civilians must be protected and must have access to food, water, and medicine. International humanitarian law must be respected.”

When weighing in on Israel and Gaza, Harris has sought to straddle competing Democratic constituencies that are both crucial to her election chances: Jewish and pro-Israel voters seeking assurances that she would continue Biden’s overall robust backing for the country in its multi-front war, and progressives and Arab and Muslim Americans and pro-Palestinian activists appalled at Israel’s conduct. She has been campaigning hard in Michigan, a swing state with what is believed to be the country’s largest Arab American population as well as a large Jewish voter base.

The letter outlined a number of obstacles currently impeding humanitarian assistance, including strict customs rules. And it said the vast majority of Gaza’s 2 million residents had been pushed into a small strip stretching from near the border with Egypt to less than halfway into the enclave, which posed additional risks. 

“Extreme overcrowding has put these civilians at high risk of lethal contagion,” it said. “Humanitarian implementers report they are unable to meet essential survival needs of aid-dependent civilians.”

John Kirby, the National Security Council spokesman, said in a press call that the letter “follows a relatively recent decrease in humanitarian assistance reaching the people of Gaza, which is obviously something we’ve been very, very concerned about since the beginning of the conflict,” 

The letter, he said, was spurred by “the sense of urgency that we all have here about the desperate need of the people of Gaza for this humanitarian assistance.” International health officials have long said that Gaza is in a famine or close to it.

Kirby would not predict what the breadth of the consequences would be should Israel be deemed non-compliant, but he reiterated the Biden administration’s commitment to assisting Israel in defending itself from Iran, noting the pending deployment of missile batteries and U.S. troops to Israel. 

The deployment is “very much in keeping with the President’s strong desire that from an air defense perspective, our ally has what they need to defend themselves against, clearly, a very real, present, viable threat by Iran and its proxies,” he said.

An Israeli official, speaking on condition of anonymity to discuss a sensitive issue, indicated to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency that Israel would change its policies in response to the letter.

“The letter has been received and is being thoroughly reviewed by Israeli security officials,” the official said. “Israel takes this matter seriously and intends to address the concerns raised in this letter with our American counterparts.”

But Israel has also consistently denied that it is hindering aid delivery. On Monday, a day after the letter was sent but a day before it was leaked to the press, COGAT, the Israeli agency coordinating the delivery of goods into Gaza, tweeted video of what it said was 30 trucks entering the strip.

“Israel is not preventing the entry of humanitarian aid, with an emphasis on food, into Gaza,” it said.

The American Israel Public Affairs Committee, the premier pro-Israel lobby, said on X that the letter was dangerous.

‘Threatening to cut off American support for Israel as it confronts Iran and its proxies on seven fronts weakens our ally, undermines American interests, and sends a dangerous message to our common enemies about U.S. support for our democratic allies,” AIPAC said in an unusually sharp rebuke to a president.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu wants to crush Hamas in Gaza, even as the military is increasingly focused on fighting Hezbollah in Lebanon. On Monday, the Associated Press reported that Netanyahu was considering a proposal to give Palestinian civilians a week to leave northern Gaza before aid would be cut off entirely. Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant reportedly told Austin that the proposal would not be implemented.

“In the last two weeks, the IDF has been conducting a ground operation in northern Gaza to destroy Hamas terrorist infrastructure, which just this week launched rockets from northern Gaza towards civilian populations in Israel,” COGAT said. “Israel will continue to allow the entry of humanitarian aid to the residents of Gaza, while simultaneously destroying Hamas’ military and governance infrastructures.”

[thebadgerclan]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: He'll come home safe and sound...he has to...

A/N: Not requested, but I wanted to sprinkle in some fluff between all my smutty requests 😂

Also this is very loosely based on "Timeless" by Taylor Swift (oops I'm a Swiftie now)

It wasn’t easy being a Prince’s intended, that was something that had been made explicitly clear to you before accepting Nikolai’s suit.  But you loved him beyond measure and were willing to do whatever it took to be with him.  And it was hard at times, but you learned to handle the scrutiny, the rumors, the criticism.  So long as you had Nikolai’s arms to seek solace in, you could handle anything.

But you weren’t prepared for your intended to be sent to war.  Nikolai, unlike his brother, truly enlisted, which came with the chance to be deployed with the rest of his unit.  And he had been.  He wasn’t going terribly far–only to Tsibeya–but that was where some of the harshest conditions and toughest fighting was.  He was a Prince, they wouldn’t let him too near to the danger….would they?

You stood watching as Nikolai packed his things, looking handsome in his standard issue First Army uniform.  No sash to indicate his status, no medals he hadn’t truly earned, he was a normal soldier.  He turned to face you, a soft smile on his face.  “Come here, darling,” he said, opening his arms.  “If you look at me like that much longer, then I’ll start crying.”  He was teasing, but you ran into his arms, burying your face in his chest, arms around his middle.

Nikolai held you tight, swaying back and forth gently.  “It’s alright, my love,” he said.  “I’ll be just fine.”  “You don’t know that,” you cried.  “You don’t know that you’ll be fine!”  He nodded, though you couldn’t see.  “You’re right, I can’t.  But I promise that I will do my best to keep myself and my soldiers safe, Y/N.  I promise, I will come back to you.”  You only cried harder and held him tighter, dreading the moment you’d have to let go.

***

You received letters from Nikolai almost weekly, though there were some weeks that you went without word from your intended.  But he was alive…if the Prince was struck down in battle, you’d know.  Even so, you worried for his safety, pacing your rooms in the Palace for hours on end.  When you received a letter, it consumed you, and you poured over the words for hours, tracing his looping scrawl with a finger.

Such was the instance now.  You had already bathed and been curled up in bed with your new novel when there was a knock at your door.  “Begging your pardon, my Lady,” the servant said.  “But this was just delivered for you.”  You snatched the letter from him greedily, thanking him before shutting your door, crawling back into bed to read.

My dearest Y/N, I am well, first of all.  The entire unit is unharmed, and by the grace of the Saints, we will keep it that way.  I miss you terribly, my love, I can barely sleep without you by my side.  And that has nothing to do with the fact that my bed is a bedroll on the frozen ground.  There has been little progress here as of yet, the Fjerdans are too cowardly to show themselves.  But when they do, my dearest, we will destroy them.

Saints, I miss you.  I miss your sweet smile, your soft kisses, your arms around me.  I miss seeing you in the morning, before your maids come in to dress you, I miss watching you from across a ballroom, laughing at whatever the Kerch ambassador said, I miss seeing your face scrunch up when you read in surprise at what the characters have done.  I miss you, Y/N, I miss you so damn much.

Dream of me when you sleep tonight, my love, for I will certainly dream of you.  I promise, I will continue to keep myself and my soldiers safe, and I am counting the days until I am back in your arms.  You own my heart, sweet love, please do not return in.  Forever yours, with all of my love, -Nikolai.

You held the paper to your chest once you’d read it, tears pricking at your eyes.  He was alright, he was safe.  Of course, there was a week-long delay in the post, but he was safe.  You folded the letter up and added it to the collection in your bedside drawer, and over the next hour, you re-read every single one of Nikolai’s letters, imagining that he was at your side and speaking to you.

When you fell asleep, you dreamt of him; simple, mundane things.  Waking up in his arms, sitting at his side, both of you reading, having dinner with him, dancing with him at a ball, falling asleep in his arms.  But when you woke, your bed empty save for you, your heart broke all over again.  Nikolai might be safe, but he wasn’t here.  And he might not be for a long time.

***

This letter was different.  It had been sent by a messenger from camp, who appeared to have ridden straight from Tsibeya.  “My Lady,” she panted, exhausted from her journey.  “A letter for you, from Prince Nikolai.”  You took the letter and opened it, slightly concerned by its length.  But then you read it, and you could have cried.

Y/N,  I am coming home.  The Fjerdans have been dealt with, and my unit is moving out tomorrow morning.  I had Katya deliver this to you, my love, both so you would know that I am on my way back to you, and so she can get home to her ailing wife.  Soon, Y/N, darling, I will be back in your arms.  Saints, two months have never felt so long.  I love you, dearest, more than life.  -Your Kolya.

***

You’d been standing on the steps of the Palace for hours.  Nikolai would arrive home today, and there was no chance you’d miss him.  You barely felt the early winter chill as you paced.  It was growing dark, and you knew that you’d soon have to retreat inside, but just then, you heard it.  The sound of hoofbeats, the call of voices.  And then you saw it: a battalion of soldiers approaching, with Nikolai at the head.

You let out a cry, and your husband kicked his horse into a gallop.  “Y/N!” he called, and you cried his name back, hands covering your mouth.  Once he was close enough, Nikolai leapt from his horse and ran to you, lifting you into his arms and spinning you around.  “Oh, my love!” he said, peppering your face and neck with kisses once he’d set you down.  “You are far more beautiful than I remember you being!”

“Kolya!” you giggled, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to his lips.  “You’re here, you’re really here…”  “I am, beautiful.  And I’m not going anywhere for a good long while.”  Nikolai kissed you again, nuzzling his nose against yours.  He then reached into a pocket, unlooping his arms from around you.  “Y/N, if the past two months have taught me anything, it’s that I cannot bear to be without you.  And I can’t promise that I won’t be sent away like this again, but I need you like I need air, Y/N.”

He pulled back, taking your hands in his as he sank to one knee.  “My love, I want to be yours for the rest of my life.  I wanted to do this at a ball thrown in your honor, but life has other plans.  Y/N, my dear, my darling, my love, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”  You’d started crying, and when he pulled out a ring, sapphire surrounded by diamonds, you sobbed. “Yes!” you nearly screamed.  “Nikolai, yes!  Yes, yes, yes!  Oh Saints, get up here!”  He stood, and you launched yourself into his arms, crying and laughing with joy.  “I love you!” you said.  “I love you so much!”  Nikolai held you tighter, tears of his own flowing freely.  “I love you too, Y/N,” he said, completely unwilling to let you go.  “I love you too.”  The prayers you had said to the Saints had paid off, for your Nikolai was home, safe and sound.

[tbgblr2]

2 Friends, 3 Babies.

Several months prior, two friends are texting: 

Kirsty: *Hey babe* 

Kate: *Yeah?* 

Kirsty: *<Posts picture of a positive pregnancy test>* 

Kate: *EEEEEEE! For real.  Congrats!   We are catching up, tomorrow!* 

Three months later, the following text message discussion occurred: 

Kate: *Oh my god, you’ll never guess what!* 

Kirsty: *What?* 

Kate: *<Posts picture of positive pregnancy test>* 

Kirsty: *OH MY GOD!!!!* 

Kate: *Yep… we do everything together, even babies!* 

Kate:  *But… I’ve got 2 in me!* 

Kirsty: *Twins?  WOWWWW!* 

Kirsty and Kate grew up in a small town, and did everything together, they both grew up together, went to school and college together, even worked at the same job together.   They were more like sisters than friends, and now with their joint pregnancies, they were doing antenatal classes together.  Kate had married Kevin – another childhood friend – and yes, you will notice the prolific number of ‘K’ names between the group – one of the quirks of living in a close-knit community, sometimes things get a bit well… weird.   

In this case, generationally, each family collectively agreed to use the next letter of the alphabet to name their children.   No one knows how far back it started, but their parents’ friends’ group was made up of a Joyce, Joseph, Janice and James.   They had a few friends like John and Jack… and a few from the older generation, Ian and Irene.   Ken was an unfortunate teenage pregnancy incident between one of Kirsty and Kate’s mothers’ friends, born much older than the rest of the generation thanks to a lack of sufficient education about sexual practices in the school system. 

Tom – Kirsty’s husband – was the odd one out – he was an import into the area.  Kirsty met him at university, and he was soon welcomed into the community with open arms as they dated and eventually married. 

Even though the 2 ladies were frequently seen to be almost identical in their style and demeanour, as time progressed in their respective pregnancies, the obviousness of their pregnant condition separated them.   Kirsty managed to keep a very petite bump, it was very small and contained.   Kate on the other hand had surpassed Kirsty’s belly measurement by her 5th month, Kirsty’s 8th – looking as if full term with a single baby before Kirsty had even given birth. 

Kate was thrilled – and to be honest a little apprehensive – when Kirsty asked her to be her birthing partner – she was very aware that whatever happened to Kirsty she would have to do herself in only a matter of weeks afterwards, but the two of them felt that they were well prepared between watching birth videos together, taking birth classes together, and generally being good emotional support to each other through the trials of heartburn, morning sickness and cravings. 

As time progressed, and the inevitable day finally arrived, Kirsty called Kate to tell her that she was certain she was in labour, and she should come over. 

Kate knocked briefly on the door and walked in – she was past needing to wait for her friend to come and let her in, but as she took her time turning around to close the door behind her – always conscious of her bump potentially knocking into things - she shouted her hello into the house. 

“Come on in” shouted Kirsty in response, as Kate turned back around and walked down the small corridor into the room where the sound came from. 

She immediately stopped in her tracks, her hand flying instinctively to her mouth in unexpected shock. 

“Kirsty, you’re naked!” exclaimed Kate. 

Kirsty wasn’t exactly naked.   She was covered by a dressing gown, but it was open rather than tied, her body and hair evidently wet like she had just been in the bath or shower.   She was sat on her birth ball, slowly rotating her hips in a figure eight motion as Kate rounded the corner into the room. 

She looked up and managed a smile, “Yeah and I’ve got a baby wanting to come out of me, so I win this round” 

Kate couldn’t help but giggle, when almost on cue, Kirsty’s face scrunched up as she brushed back the fabric of her robe from the right hand side of her belly and clamped her hand on it, rubbing it with slow circles.    Kate watched enraptured as Kirsty’s belly tensed and for a brief moment, an outline of a part of the baby was seen poking out.   She gasped without realising. 

Kirsty, seeing this happen, blew out her breath as the contraction passed and smiled once again.   “I take it you saw little bub’s butt?”   Kate nodded.   “Yeah its crazy, been watching it all morning as my belly tightens up.   I suppose it’s a downside of a small bump... not much free room in there I guess?” 

Kate asked “So how long have you been in labour for?” 

Kirsty looked up as if she was trying to work something out in her head.  “Well... I was straddled riding Tom last night” 

“Hey, do you not have any secrets!” shouted Tom from the next room. 

“Of course not baby, we are friends!” shouted Kirsty, grinning maniacally. “As I was saying before being rudely interrupted, I was riding my man like a beast, when I felt some contractions.   Not sure if the baby was fed up of being juggled around or some magic happened... when the magic happened, but they didn’t let up, not like any of those Braxton Hicks things I’d been having.” 

Kate nodded, her hand instinctively moving to her belly to feel the movement of the babies inside her at the mention of Braxton Hicks contractions, she was only 6 months along, and she knew she had those to look forward to when the babies had grown a little more – if that was possible – she was bigger than Kirsty right now, and Kirsty was in labour! 

Kirsty continued.  “I managed to get a couple of hours sleep, but at around about... oh... 5 I think I gave up after watching the clock for an hour and feeling the occasional cramp.   I knew they weren’t going away at this point and got excited you know.” 

Kate nodded as Kirsty continued.   “I got up to go to the toilet” - cue knowing nods from Kate - “had a little bite to eat, and just sat and watched TV for a few hours feeling the build-up and progression, having a good moan and groan to myself.   After Tom got up and noticed I wasn’t in bed, it had been several hours, and things had started to get a bit fruity, let me tell you.  Headed for a nice warm bath to try and get comfortable when I got in touch with you.  Had about an hour in there – it helped; I'll admit – but I figure it's about time to go to the birth centre.   So here we are, about an hour later, Tom has – I hope – finished packing, and I need to just get dressed a bit so I can go out in public.” 

Tom poked his head around the door.  “We’re all set – Hi Kate!” 

“Hi Tom” Kate held her hand up in greeting. 

Kirsty stands from the ball, arching her back as she simultaneously holds the underside of her belly and pulls, lifting her round midsection up.  “That feels so much better let me tell you, nothing like it to ease back pain.  Baby’s got no decency to stay well away from nerves.”   She shuffles back towards a chair where a dress is draped over the back of it, shrugging off the dressing gown into a pile on the floor behind her, she grabs the dress and starts to pull it over her head, the fabric gathering above her bump until she's pulled it over her head and able to pull it down. 

“No underwear?” queried Kate, as Kirsty shook a finger at her, dropping her head and grimacing, evident that another contraction had started to ramp up.   Kate moved over to her friend and got in as close as her own bump would let her, rubbing Kirsty’s back.   That seemed to help, and her tight, scowling expression relaxed a little as she felt the muscles of her back being softly massaged. 

Tom walked back into the room with a bag slung over his shoulder with their hospital things in, taking his wife's hands in his own, he slowly rubbed his thumbs over the back of her two hands whilst whispering to her that she was doing well, and she was well on her way to meeting their baby. 

As the contraction reached its peak and finally ebbed away, Kirsty felt she could breathe again, huffing out her breath with a groan.   The contractions were definitely getting worse as time went on... she figured it was going to be as much, but she was secretly hoping that they would reach a peak with their pain and intensity, and eventually just go on longer and longer.   She figured in her own head that was too much to ask for. 

The three made their way to the car – Kirsty and Tom just having upgraded their small hatchback they shared as a couple to something larger with the baby on the way.  Kate settled into the passenger seat as she pushed the seat back as much as she could, Kirsty sat in the back row, on the assumption that it would allow her a bit more freedom of movement should she need it during the ride – she didn’t like the idea of getting trapped in the passenger seat and be surrounded by all the dashboard and centre consoles and not being able to move around, even shuffle from left to right. 

Tom opened the boot, threw in the bag he was carrying, and promised he would be quick as he dashed back into the house.   Two pairs of pregnant women’s eyes followed his movements as he retreated.   He returned a few moments later with the car seat for the baby, and placed that in the back as well, not wanting to set it up in position for now in case Kirsty wanted to move around. 

“Lets go have a baby!” he yelled, the emotions he had bottled up finally releasing into a yell of triumph that he and his wife were on their way.    

As the engine burst into life, another contraction started assaulting Kirsty’s belly.   She groaned, resulting in Tom turning around before pulling away.   “Just drive!” Kirsty growled a little, completely unintentionally.   Noticing Tom’s expression drop, she took a breath and added, in a more reasonable tone “Sooner we get moving, the sooner we get there.   I’m expecting a few more of these on the way, and Kate can help me cope.  Just want you to focus on the road to get us there in one piece.”  Tom nodded and pulled away, glancing back at the rear-view mirror to see Kirsty lying back, rubbing furiously at her belly. 

Tom set a decent pace, keeping to the speed limit, but weaving between lanes to keep moving and not end up in queues.   Kirsty went through several contractions in the car, typically when they ramped up to higher intensities, she leaned her head on the seat in front and pushed her hand forward, allowing Kate to grab it and hold on as she squeezed, often grasping Kirsty’s hand with both of hers.   Tom kept the compliments and encouragement going all the way through the drive - “You’re doing well baby, keep on doing that, breathe nice and deep, pant out the pain.”  Kate chimed in at appropriate times “That’s it Kirst, squeeze my hand nice and tight, just keep on thinking about meeting the baby.” 

Kirsty shuffled from side to side in the seat as she tried to keep comfortable, struggling with the sensations of labour getting more and more pronounced as the drive went on.   Tom was of course driving as quick as he could, which resulted in one rapid stop as a car appeared in front of him unexpectedly.    The stop-start nature of the journey, coupled with her own hormones, and the surprising heat generated by her own pregnant body left her feeling nauseous, so she wound down the window and let the cool air blast into her face for a while.   

At one point, Kirsty had almost gotten to her wits end, tired of sitting in the same position, the pain in her lower back becoming more and more intense as the drive and her labour progressed.    She managed to get her body rotated in the seat, so she had her knees pressed against the seat, her belly sticking out into the area where she was sitting a few moments earlier, and her hands grasping the headrest as she moaned a sorrowful sounding wail, a contraction almost breaking her.   Tom had little he could do to assist, and even Kate couldn’t really get her hand back far enough, only really brushing hers against her friends thigh, so both were left looking through the rear view mirror at the labouring woman and feeling powerless to help other than to keep on telling her that they were getting closer and closer to the birthing centre. 

When the group were almost there, about 2-3 minutes from the hospital, Kirsty let out a growl which suddenly turned into an exclaimation.  “GrrrrrrooooohSHIT!”   Kate turned around as best she could, and Tom, all credit to him, didn’t take his eyes off the road but asked what had happened. 

“Water broke... I think” replied Kirsty speaking in a pained tone, eyes scrunched up in the middle of a contraction, she pulled her hands out from between her legs and brought up fingers that were glistening with fluid. 

Tom gasped, asking “Do I stop, do I go... were almost there?” 

Kate looked at him.  “Get to the birthing centre, I don’t think she's in any risk of pushing the baby out right here.” 

Kirsty answered silently by shaking her head.  Gasping a “go” as best she could, Tom got the message and drove on. 

Kirsty squirmed in the seat, feeling the wetness of her clothes cling to her.   She mumbled a quick “Sorry guys” as she lifted her backside off the seat and pulled at her dress, lifting it up above her bump, exposing her lower half and sitting back down.  “That was uncomfortable.”    Tom could only stare in disbelief as Kate smiled.  “Whatever helps you cope.” 

As the car arrived in the car park, Kate offered to go in and get things ready for the couple, presuming that Kirsty would need a moment to get herself tidied up and out of the car.   Of course, being 6 months pregnant with twins, and sporting a large belly herself didn’t exactly mean she was able to jump out of the car herself and head over quickly either. 

She eventually managed to extract herself from the seat and with a half run-half waddle she pushed the door to the birthing centre open to be greeted by a receptionist. 

“Hi” said Kate.   “We rang ahead, got a baby coming.   Waters just broken on the journey in.” 

The receptionist looked at Kate and got the wrong end of the stick, thinking she was the woman in labour. 

“Please take a seat ma’am and I'll bring the admittance forms over to you... or do you feel that you would need a wheelchair and to go straight to the assessment room?” 

“Wh...wha?” Kate was taken aback momentarily until she put 2 and 2 together.  “Oh... no... my friend is in labour.   I’ve got a fair old while to go, still only 6 months along.”   Kate was not sure if it was the frantic nature of the drive into the area, but this set her off giggling.   Kirsty is going to love hearing this. 

“I think the wheelchair could be useful for our labouring mamma though,” noted Kate as the receptionist nodded.  “You should see the couple in the car park.” 

An orderly took one of the wheelchairs which were stacked to the side and wheeled it out to greet the labouring couple, as the receptionist asked for Kirsty's name, brought up her records on the screen and clicked a few locations on the screen, announcing that she was all set. 

The orderly came in backwards, wheeling Kirsty in front of him in reverse, Tom following with the bag close behind the small group.   As the orderly spun the chair around so Kirsty faced the receptionist, Kirsty let out a slight smile and a nod of greeting. 

The receptionist greeted her with her own beaming smile and wished her good luck, advising the orderly to take the group to assessment room 2.   Tom and Kate followed on behind the wheelchair bound Kirsty as the three of them and the orderly entered a room.    

“I’ll come back and get the chair when you’ve been assessed, just sit tight and our midwife will be here in just a couple of minutes... or if you’d like a hand up, I can help?” 

“Please, help me stand” asked Kirsty.   The orderly and Tom helped her get up whilst Kate wheeled the chair to the side of the room.  “Thanks, I’ve been sitting for a while in the car, I just want to move around.” 

“Not a problem” the orderly smiled.   He pointed over to buzzer on the wall.  “There’s an intercom there if you need to reach reception, but you shouldn’t have much of a wait.” 

As the orderly leaves, Kirsty’s hand goes to her bump again as she waddles over to grasp onto a handrail on the wall.   Her walk is noticeably bow-legged as she tries to avoid the damp patch on the back her dress which is clearly visible from behind.  “I just realised how soaked I am now the dress isn't stuck to me,” she manages, between huff and puff breaths as she focuses on the contraction. 

“Hopefully they have the pool you wanted ready, then you can take off the dress and just relax in the water.” thought Tom, speaking out loud. 

“Sounds heavenly...” Kirsty replied, holding herself up with one hand as she bent over with the pain, clutching at her belly with the other.  “These have gotten a LOT worse since the waters went.  Like someone's taken away the cushion I had.”   She vocalised a low moan as she worked through the contraction. 

There was a knock at the door, and the midwife the couple had been dealing with during their prenatal care walked through, she was known as Suzi.   Definitely an out of towner as she was not really much older than Kirsty and Kate, but didn’t follow the same naming convention of those in the town. 

She noticed Kirsty working her way through a contraction and waited for it to finish – Kirsty, wrapping her arms around Tom as she stood with a wide stance, moving her hips left and right as she vocalised a low moan.   As the contraction finished, and she managed to stand back up fully and look around at the new entrant into the room, Kirsty’s eyes rose up and met Suzi’s, who smiled in response.  “So how's my mother and sneaky little baby then?” 

“We’re fine, and I think baby really wants to show itself now” replied Kirsty, her hand rubbing her bump. 

What Suzi referred to was Kirstys apparent lack of bump.  All of the ultrasound scans and other checks that she had went through suggested the baby was growing normally, and in fact was suggesting that it was going to be very big when it was born – but her apparent lack of bump was baffling.  Suzi could only shrug when asked to explain it, and just replied saying that sometimes bumps just don’t pop out much.  Her uterus, and subsequently the baby growing within it, seemed to be quite deep in her body, so the outward signs were significantly less than many other women, but everything was perfectly normal and not to worry about it. 

“Can I check you over?” asked Suzi, as Kirsty nodded, adding “Do you mind if I take off this dress... it’s a bit wet?”    

“If it would help, go right ahead, want me to bring you something else to wear?” she asked. 

“No... no thanks.   Feeling a bit hot and bothered if I’m honest – hoping a bit of naked time might help cool me down.”   Kirsty blushed as she said it, not exactly sure what the etiquette would be for a situation like this. 

“Hey... you’re the labouring mamma... you call the shots” grinned Suzi as she offered her hand to help Kirsty onto the bed.   Kirsty hiked her dress up over her bump as she had done before in the car and then took Suzi’s hand and Toms and managed to get herself on the bed.   Tom lifted off her dress and folded it over, putting it away in a plastic bag to be washed later. 

Suzi donned her gloves, and with a “OK, deep breath in” she put her hands between Kirsty’s legs and into her vagina.   Kirsty squirmed a little as she groaned at the unpleasant sensation but a few moments later, Suzi withdrew her fingers and pulled off the gloves.  “You’re doing well... at 6 centimetres, so still a way to go, but I’m happy to get you admitted... no need to go home.” 

Kirsty breathed a sigh of relief.   She wasn’t expecting to get turned away, but she’d read all sorts of horror stories of women who had laboured all day and found that they were only 2-3 centimetres dilated when they got to the birth centre and were sent back home for longer.   Frankly she didn’t think she could manage another car ride. 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes with a gown you can wear... don’t think you’d want to move down to our delivery suite in your current state of undress” Suzi turned and walked out of the room with a grin. 

Kirsty swung her legs by the side of the bed and sat and chatted a little while with Kate and Tom.  As the time passed, another contraction started to grow, so she closed her eyes and focused on rubbing her belly, reaching out for Tom, who grabbed her hand in response, as Kirsty was left grimacing in pain. Kate looked on concerned, not only for the simple fact that her good friend was in pain, but seeing how much the pain was having a visible effect on Kirsty, she was worried that she would have it all to come. 

Kirsty came out of the contraction looking up at her friend who was rubbing her belly sheepishly.  “Hope I'm not scaring you...” she managed with a smile.   Kate lied, saying no, putting on a brave face so as not to let her friend worry when she needed to concentrate on herself.   “Babies are just having a wrestle in here I think, don’t know what it is, but they’re crazy active right now... I don’t know, perhaps I'm just noticing it more considering the situation.”  

There was a knock at the door interrupting their heart to heart, as Suzi walked back in the room, closing the door behind her, ripping open a plastic wrapper as she walked towards Kirsty and handed her the gown she had just unpacked.   Holding her free hand and shoulder, Suzi helped Kirsty off the bed as she pulled the clothing over her head. 

“Ready when you are, let's go have a baby!” Kirsty seemed suddenly full of energy, knowing she was moving on with her labour.   Suzi nodded and led the group out of the room, down the corridor and into the delivery suite area of the building – Kirsty stopping midway to hold onto the wall as a contraction worked its way through her.  After making sure she was OK, they continued their way to a door, which was opened in front of the group leading to a low-lit room, the area dominated by the pool in the middle of the room.    Kirsty’s eyes lit up seeing the inviting water. 

Kirsty took off the gown again, waiting a little while as Suzi strapped a monitor to her belly to monitor the contractions, and she was finally released to go into the water.    As she took Tom’s offered hand, her legs entered the water one after another with an audible splash.   Standing in the tub she rocked side to side as another contraction built up, her hands grasping both of Tom’s and squeezing tight.   Kirsty’s eyes were closed as she worked through it, until finally it passed and she sighed as she lowered herself down into the water, blissful relief evident on her face. 

Kirsty sat in the water with her legs butterflied out, soles together as she took in a deep breath, her hands working an ache in the underside of her belly.  The next contraction built up and it was clear that this felt different to Kirsty by the noises she was making – giving a low, humming noise rather than the grunts and groans she had been doing before.   She smiled as the contraction ebbed away, stating that she was so glad to be back in the water, it felt like the pains were so much less intense with the water to help. 

After the hectic run up to this point, suddenly everything was calm.   Over the course of the next hour, Kirsty worked her contractions in the tub, taking time out between the surges to find time to have a joke and conversation with Tom and Kate, the water doing what is should to mask the pain of the contractions.   Suzi popped in back and forth over the time and kept her notes, bringing in some gas and air for Kirsty as things picked up close to the end of the hour.   Kirsty took plenty of opportunity to breathe deeply on the mouthpiece, groaning with the contractions as they picked up intensity as the labour progressed. 

Things got more emotional as Kirsty entered transition though.   The pain had ramped up considerably, to the point where the water and gas and air wasn’t helping, Kirsty was starting to mumble to herself, focusing inward as she could do nothing but yell out as each contraction got to her, ramped up, and then seemed to only let go for a moment before its next friend gripped her. 

Tom was starting to fret, feeling helpless in the situation, whilst Kate was simply looking on aghast, finding her friend not coping well with the pain, and being concerned that she would need to go through this soon herself. 

Kirsty got Tom to get in the pool and hold her as she went through the contractions – she was starting to feel the ill effects of the late-stage labour, feeling all shaky and nauseous – but Tom’s presence, holding her, whispering to her that she was doing great, keeping her focused helped her to progress.  Thankfully for the transition phase, it didn’t last long, and after around 30 minutes, where Kirsty was getting well and truly fed up with the pain she suddenly felt the urge to push. 

Suzi leaned over the edge of the pool and managed to reach between Kirsty’s legs to check her dilation – sure enough, she was at 10cm and was good to go.   Both Tom and Kate let out sighs of relief knowing that the difficult transition period was finally over, and hoping that Kirsty getting to push would help her deal with the pain better – when she was back in control. 

The first push felt like heaven to Kirsty.   She could finally do something.   Tom sloshed around the pool to kneel down next to her shoulder and give her support, whilst Kirsty screamed like a banshee as she pushed, putting all the frustration she had just been through into a monumental effort to get things moving.   Kate moved around the pool to get a look, morbid curiosity ruling her thoughts at the moment.   She was very disappointed that Kirsty’s long, 10 second push showed absolutely no external effects whatsoever. 

Another push, then another and finally a fourth and suddenly Kate jumped.   “I’ve just seen it.”   Tom leaned over to glance between Kirstys legs and sure enough, as she pushed with a loud roar, her lips parted, and something could be seen in the gap it created.   As she let off the push the shape slipped away, but both Kate and Tom were buoyed by the result, the energy of which motivated Kirsty to keep on going. 

Over the course of the next 10 minutes, Kirsty put a monumental effort into pushing out her baby, and felt success as she reached down and felt the shape growing and growing with each set of effort she put in. But something was wrong. She didn’t know if it was mothers intuition, or something she felt when she was expecting to feel the head of the baby, but she called Suzi over – who had been pleased with the progress so far and started to prepare her notes whilst Tom and Kate were keeping Kirsty motivated. 

Suzi popped over and took a quick glimpse between Kirstys legs, just to get a shock. She didn’t let on too much, but urged Kirsty to push when she felt the next contraction, waiting with baited breath for it to happen. It didn’t take long until Kirsty was once more pulling on her legs in the tub and pushing out the mass between her legs. Suzi’s fears were confirmed when she realised that the thing which was coming out was not the babys head, but its behind. 

“Kirsty... your baby is breech” Suzi infomed Kirsty, trying to keep a calm tone in her voice. Tom reacted first. 

“Does this change anything? Does she need a section or something for that?” 

Kirsty soon reacted to the change in atmosphere in the room, gasping hard, releasing her push mid contraction and wailing out loud as her body reactively forced her to keep on pushing.  

Suzi did her best to keep all in the room calm and on the immediate need to focus on Kirsty’s labour. “Nothing needs to change. You can still push out this baby naturally.... it’s just coming out butt first... Kate or Tom – when it’s time, I’ll need you to support the baby, as we will need to get mum out of the tub and more vertical.”  

Kirsty interrupted “I need Tom... this hurts so bad.” 

Kate nodded “Guess that answers that question then... best get my catcher’s mitt.” 

Suzi nodded. “Right... well, here’s our game plan. When the body is born, I’ll ask Kirsty to stand and use gravity to help give birth to the head. Kate, you support the baby as it comes out, and Kirsty – because the cord will potentially be caught between the emerging head and the body which is already outside, we need to focus on speed to deliver the head so the cord isn’t restricted for too long. I’m afraid you will need to push your hardest to get this head out of you as quick as you can. Do you think you can do it?” 

Kirsty nodded, not able to answer verbally as she immediately folded over to start her pushing on the next contraction. Not sure if it was Suzi’s dire warning or not, but she seemed to push with a lot more might than before, holding Tom’s hand and squeezing as hard as she could to get through the contraction. Suzi and Kate looked on at the baby emerging from between Kirsty’s legs. 

It was clear after this contraction that the thing which was coming out was the baby’s behind, as now the hips – legs folded up into the babys body – were clearly visible. What Kate found unusual was sheer size of the infants body which was stretching her friend open – the stretch was easily as big as any head she had seen on any of the ‘preparing for birth’ video’s she had seen – she looked over at Suzi who wasn’t reacting to the size, just focusing on the area between Kirstys legs to make sure things were going as they should. 

Kate shook her head, presuming she was worrying about nothing, and went back to rubbing a cloth on her friends head and giving her encouragement.  

Suzi jumped in now. “Hands and knees please. We need to be ready to help you stand up when the time comes.” 

Kirsty accepted support from the three others in the room as she wriggled in the pool to get onto her knees – her movements limited by the sheer size of the infant between her legs. The next push as she was vertical had the legs fully born, which flopped down. Kirsty gave a yell – unsure if it was simply pain, or a sense of triumphant success as she felt the movement – her hands were now spread out either side of her, one held by Tom, one by Kate. 

The next push had the body fully born, Kirsty surprisingly making very little noise at this point, simply focusing on the push. The baby was facing with its back towards the group, so Suzi leaned in and felt for the cord, making sure that it wasn’t caught on the neck, before trying to manage the task of lifting Kirsty up for the task of giving birth to the head. 

She gave an affirmative that everything was going well, and asked Kate to get behind Kirsty and be ready to reach down into the pool to support the baby, Tom to take her under her armpits and be ready to lift. 

Kate took a moment to peek around the front at the baby when her hand went to her lips. “How did you fit all that in there?” she gasped out – noting the sheer size of the baby in comparison to her friends dainty bump.  

Suzi scolded her. “Please, we need to be quick.” 

Kirsty gasped out loud “I need to push, quickly.” 

Sheepishly, Kate realised that she had made an error and got into her assigned space. She was forced to lift her own bump up so she could lean over the edge of the pool, her bump hefted over the top, Kate as a result ending up on her tiptoes, her large bump splashing into the water as she reached towards the area between Kirsty’s legs. “Got it.” she confirmed. 

Tom heaved up whilst Suzi supported the baby from the front, waiting for Kate. As she felt her hands grasp the infant from behind, she let go and moved her hands up to Kirsty’s vagina. Kirsty was now upright on her own feet, water draining off her. She didn’t have a moment to lose as she squatted down, opening up her legs and pushed.  

Her howl was deafening to Tom who had his head close to his wife’s, grasping onto her with all his strength. Suzi pushed hard on Kirstys lips, separating them and giving what help she could to ensure that the cord didn’t get trapped by the emerging head. 

Kate stood aghast at the amount of effort and pain that her friend was in as she pushed again and again, her inhibitions gone, the power of gravity pulling the weighty body down along with her primal need to push. Kirsty didn’t stop pushing until the head was out – and it took 3 long minutes. Even when the contraction had stopped, she yelled out loud and grunted with effort. 

Kirsty leaned her weight forward as she pushed, relying more and more on Tom for support. The position change tipped her vagina away from Suzi’s hands, and the midwife dashed around to behind Kirsty to stand alongside Kate, who at this point had gotten a full on view of her friends stretching vagina as the head emerged. 

As the head reached its widest point, stretched to a point where Kate didn’t think would be physically possible for the human body to achieve, Kirsty let out a scream of pain which turned Kate’s blood to ice. In front of her eyes, her friend was tearing, and Kate couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

Her hands were covered in blood and all Kate could do was sit open mouthed at the vision in front of her. Kirsty had not ceased in her pushing efforts, oblivious to the damage that she had done to herself. She couldn’t think, just react to the unstoppable force of the instinct that the boulder between her legs needed to be outside of her body. 

Suzi looked over to Kate, seeing the friend’s frightened look she whispered to her “Don’t worry, we’ll sort that out before she even realises, she’ll be so high on happy hormones.” 

And with that, the baby dropped into Kate’s hands. Without the weight of it held by Kirsty, Kate wasn’t expecting the bulk and had to adjust from her already precarious position on her tiptoes to hold onto the slippery bundle but she held on by some instinctual force she didn’t even realise she had. 

Kirsty was panting as she realised the head had finally come out, shell shocked into mutely staring forward. Kate spoke first. “Take the baby babe!” 

Kirsty suddenly realised what had happened. “Is it over? Is the head out?” She let go of Tom and shuffled back, reaching between her legs to take the waxy, blood covered bundle from between her legs as Kate shoved it forward, almost overbalancing in the process. 

Kirsty sank into the water, suddenly realising the pool was blood-red. She looked up at Suzi. “Everything OK?” she enquired. 

“Just a small tear. We’ll let you rest a few minutes, deal with the afterbirth and see about getting those dealt with when it’s time. For now, bond with your baby.” 

Tom looked up at Kate who held her fingers up behind Kirsty’s back in a ‘pinch’ motion – with her fingers being around an inch apart. She mouthed to Tom “I saw her tear. I saw it all.” Not wanting to say anything out loud in case it startled Kirsty. 

Over the course of the next hour or two, as Kirsty was cleaned up and the baby – a girl which they decided to call Laura to keep up with the naming tradition – was given a clean bill of health, all that was going through Kate’s mind was that her friend, with the tiny bump, gave birth to a 13 pound baby, and struggled as a result. She had a bigger bump than her friend did for several months prior, and she still had time to grow.  

She was worried – whatever her friend had to deal with, she had to do it twice. And one thing was certain, time was certainly not going to stand still for her whilst she prepared herself for it. 

[botgal]

SB 976 Update

Update for Californians following the progression of CA SB 976 "Protecting our Kids from Social Media Addiction Act".

As of 6/3/2024 the bill has been referred to the California Assembly Committee on Privacy and Consumer Protections.

As of today, 6/5/2024, there is no set hearing day for the bill. So now would be the time to write and submit letters of opposition for this bill. Which you can do here.

As stated on the Committee's website, its responsibilities are as follows:

"The jurisdiction of the Assembly Privacy and Consumer Protection Committee spans a wide range of technology-related issues, and includes matters affecting consumer protection in both the digital and analog worlds. Specifically, the Committee has jurisdiction over matters related to privacy, the protection of personal information (including digital information), the security of data, and information technology, as well as false advertising, charitable solicitations, weights and measures, and consumer protection generally. The Committee is also responsible for oversight of the Department of Technology within the State's Government Operations Agency."

So it would be best to focus your letters around topics related to this for this bill.

Please remember that if you do send a letter of opposition, make it a firm 'no' and give reasons why you are against this bill. Do not give caveats or make statements such as "you would support if if X would change". Hard yes or no letters. These will become held as public record and may be used in committee hearings, so please word your statements professionally and refrain from inflammatory statements about any of the authors. We wish our position of opposition to be respected and heard clearly by the committee to know that California's citizens do not want what this bill could bring to us.

The deadline to submit any position letters is noon on the Tuesday prior to a committee hearing. So keep an eye out for those dates.

For a brief update on AB 3080 and AB 1949, both bills remain in the Senate Judiciary Committee and have yet to be given a hearing date. So continue sending your letters of opposition to that committee there as well.

And please continue sending your positions to your State Senators and State Assembly Representatives, who you can find here.

Thank you again for your time and effort put into keeping California's internet safe and free.

[saltsicklover]

Bucky Barnes Master List

₊✧ Bucky Barnes ✧₊

One Shots

24,901 Miles ♡ - "We have always been the most intimate in crowded rooms; yards apart, eyes catching each others' knowing glances."

Bikinis, Breasts, and Bucky Barnes ♡ - "Summertime has got to be one of the most oppressive parts of the year."

The Weather ♡ - "It took James Barnes three months to speak more than a 'hello' and an appointment time to the beautiful women that sits behind the front desk in Dr. Raynor's stuffy office."

Series

From Me to You ~ Fan Mail Series (In Progress) ♡

Part One: Fan Mail - "Bucky has never gotten fan mail. Ill wishes and empty threats via the postal service sent from all over the world, sure, that's old hat by now."

Part Two: Pen Pal - "When Bucky finally decides he is going to write to his new pen pal, he is knee deep in weeds outside of a long condemned government facility on the outskirts of a fly over town."

Part Three: The First Official Letter - "Maybe Bucky shouldn't have written at all. The thought swam around Bucky's mind for weeks."

Part Four: Dear Ace - ""I need to know one thing, what apartment do you live in?" The letter burned a hole in her pocket."

Part Five: Dear 201 - "Three little numbers both thrill and terrify Bucky in equal measure- he started to see the numbers everywhere after he received the letter from Ace."

Part Six: Trouble - "The tension hung between the Super Soldiers, sticky and all consuming as the hours turned to days after the fight."

Part Seven: Bloody Knuckles - "Ace is ready to take on the world, at least that's what she tells herself, heading out of the apartment, ready for a long awaited day off, but the letters she found stacked in her mailbox give her pause."

Part Eight: A Sacrifice For Love - "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

I've Always Dreamt of You ~ Unknown Soulmate AU (In Progress) ꨄ︎

Part One: Blue - "The way Icarus dreamt of flight doesn't even come close to rivaling the way I dream of him."

˖⁺‧₊ Key₊‧⁺˖

♡ xFem!Reader

☁︎ xDisabled!Reader

ꨄ︎ Soulmate AU

[dosesofcommonsense]

This is long, but it’s well worth your time.

This might piss some of you off. To that matter, I don’t care. This should make you angry, though it should make you angry at our government and not me. I’m just pointing out the truth and some relating history.

https://www.archives.gov/founding-docs/constitution-transcript

Article 1, Section 8

The Congress shall have Power To lay and collect Taxes, Duties, Imposts and Excises, to pay the Debts and provide for the common Defence and general Welfare of the United States; but all Duties, Imposts and Excises shall be uniform throughout the United States;

To borrow Money on the credit of the United States;

To regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian Tribes;

To establish an uniform Rule of Naturalization, and uniform Laws on the subject of Bankruptcies throughout the United States;

To coin Money, regulate the Value thereof, and of foreign Coin, and fix the Standard of Weights and Measures;

To provide for the Punishment of counterfeiting the Securities and current Coin of the United States;

To establish Post Offices and post Roads;

To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries;

To constitute Tribunals inferior to the supreme Court;

To define and punish Piracies and Felonies committed on the high Seas, and Offences against the Law of Nations;

To declare War, grant Letters of Marque and Reprisal, and make Rules concerning Captures on Land and Water;

To raise and support Armies, but no Appropriation of Money to that Use shall be for a longer Term than two Years;

To provide and maintain a Navy;

To make Rules for the Government and Regulation of the land and naval Forces;

To provide for calling forth the Militia to execute the Laws of the Union, suppress Insurrections and repel Invasions;

To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining, the Militia, and for governing such Part of them as may be employed in the Service of the United States, reserving to the States respectively, the Appointment of the Officers, and the Authority of training the Militia according to the discipline prescribed by Congress;

To exercise exclusive Legislation in all Cases whatsoever, over such District (not exceeding ten Miles square) as may, by Cession of particular States, and the Acceptance of Congress, become the Seat of the Government of the United States, and to exercise like Authority over all Places purchased by the Consent of the Legislature of the State in which the Same shall be, for the Erection of Forts, Magazines, Arsenals, dock-Yards, and other needful Buildings;—And

To make all Laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into Execution the foregoing Powers, and all other Powers vested by this Constitution in the Government of the United States, or in any Department or Officer thereof.

--

Note: The duties of Congress do not entail any gift giving or foreign donations.

--

Story Time

https://fee.org/resources/not-your-to-give/

[The following story about the famed American icon Davy Crockett was published in Harper’s Magazine in 1867, as written by James J. Bethune, a pseudonym used by Edward S. Ellis. The events that are recounted here are true, including Crockett’s opposition to the bill in question, though the precise rendering and some of the detail are fictional.]

One day in the House of Representatives, a bill was taken up appropriating money for the benefit of a widow of a distinguished naval officer. Several beautiful speeches had been made in its support. The Speaker was just about to put the question when Davy Crockett arose:

“Mr. Speaker–I have as much respect for the memory of the deceased, and as much sympathy for the sufferings of the living, if suffering there be, as any man in this House, but we must not permit our respect for the dead or our sympathy for a part of the living to lead us into an act of injustice to the balance of the living. I will not go into an argument to prove that Congress has no power to appropriate this money as an act of charity. Every member upon this floor knows it. We have the right, as individuals, to give away as much of our own money as we please in charity; but as members of Congress we have no right so to appropriate a dollar of the public money. Some eloquent appeals have been made to us upon the ground that it is a debt due the deceased. Mr. Speaker, the deceased lived long after the close of the war; he was in office to the day of his death, and I have never heard that the government was in arrears to him.

Every man in this House knows it is not a debt. We cannot, without the grossest corruption, appropriate this money as the payment of a debt. We have not the semblance of authority to appropriate it as a charity. Mr. Speaker, I have said we have the right to give as much money of our own as we please. I am the poorest man on this floor. I cannot vote for this bill, but I will give one week’s pay to the object, and if every member of Congress will do the same, it will amount to more than the bill asks.”

He took his seat. Nobody replied. The bill was put upon its passage, and, instead of passing unanimously, as was generally supposed, and as, no doubt, it would, but for that speech, it received but few votes, and, of course, was lost.

Later, when asked by a friend why he had opposed the appropriation, Crockett gave this explanation:

“Several years ago I was one evening standing on the steps of the Capitol with some other members of Congress, when our attention was attracted by a great light over in Georgetown . It was evidently a large fire. We jumped into a hack and drove over as fast as we could. In spite of all that could be done, many houses were burned and many families made homeless, and, besides, some of them had lost all but the clothes they had on. The weather was very cold, and when I saw so many women and children suffering, I felt that something ought to be done for them. The next morning a bill was introduced appropriating $20,000 for their relief. We put aside all other business and rushed it through as soon as it could be done.

“The next summer, when it began to be time to think about the election, I concluded I would take a scout around among the boys of my district. I had no opposition there, but, as the election was some time off, I did not know what might turn up. When riding one day in a part of my district in which I was more of a stranger than any other, I saw a man in a field plowing and coming toward the road. I gauged my gait so that we should meet as he came to the fence. As he came up, I spoke to the man. He replied politely, but, as I thought, rather coldly.

“I began: ‘Well, friend, I am one of those unfortunate beings called candidates, and–’

“‘Yes, I know you; you are Colonel Crockett, I have seen you once before, and voted for you the last time you were elected. I suppose you are out electioneering now, but you had better not waste your time or mine. I shall not vote for you again.’

“This was a sockdolager . . . I begged him to tell me what was the matter.

“‘Well, Colonel, it is hardly worth-while to waste time or words upon it. I do not see how it can be mended, but you gave a vote last winter which shows that either you have not capacity to understand the Constitution, or that you are wanting in the honesty and firmness to be guided by it. In either case you are not the man to represent me. But I beg your pardon for expressing it in that way. I did not intend to avail myself of the privilege of the constituent to speak plainly to a candidate for the purpose of insulting or wounding you. I intend by it only to say that your understanding of the Constitution is very different from mine; and I will say to you what, but for my rudeness, I should not have said, that I believe you to be honest. . . . But an understanding of the Constitution different from mine I cannot overlook, because the Constitution, to be worth anything, must be held sacred, and rigidly observed in all its provisions. The man who wields power and misinterprets it is the more dangerous the more honest he is.’

“‘I admit the truth of all you say, but there must be some mistake about it, for I do not remember that I gave any vote last winter upon any constitutional question.’

“‘No, Colonel, there’s no mistake. Though I live here in the backwoods and seldom go from home, I take the papers from Washington and read very carefully all the proceedings of Congress. My papers say that last winter you voted for a bill to appropriate $20,000 to some sufferers by a fire in Georgetown . Is that true?’

“‘Well, my friend; I may as well own up. You have got me there. But certainly nobody will complain that a great and rich country like ours should give the insignificant sum of $20,000 to relieve its suffering women and children, particularly with a full and overflowing Treasury, and I am sure, if you had been there, you would have done just as I did.’

“‘It is not the amount, Colonel, that I complain of; it is the principle. In the first place, the government ought to have in the Treasury no more than enough for its legitimate purposes. But that has nothing to do with the question. The power of collecting and disbursing money at pleasure is the most dangerous power that can be intrusted to man, particularly under our system of collecting revenue by a tariff, which reaches every man in the country, no matter how poor he may be, and the poorer he is the more he pays in proportion to his means. What is worse, it presses upon him without his knowledge where the weight centers, for there is not a man in the United States who can ever guess how much he pays to the government. So you see, that while you are contributing to relieve one, you are drawing it from thousands who are even worse off than he. If you had the right to give anything, the amount was simply a matter of discretion with you, and you had as much right to give $20,000,000 as $20,000. If you have the right to give to one, you have the right to give to all; and, as the Constitution neither defines charity nor stipulates the amount, you are at liberty to give to any and everything which you may believe, or profess to believe, is a charity, and to any amount you may think proper. You will very easily perceive what a wide door this would open for fraud and corruption and favoritism, on the one hand, and for robbing the people on the other. No, Colonel, Congress has no right to give charity. Individual members may give as much of their own money as they please, but they have no right to touch a dollar of the public money for that purpose. If twice as many houses had been burned in this county as in Georgetown , neither you nor any other member of Congress would have thought of appropriating a dollar for our relief. There are about two hundred and forty members of Congress. If they had shown their sympathy for the sufferers by contributing each one week’s pay, it would have made over $13,000. There are plenty of wealthy men in and around Washington who could have given $20,000 without depriving themselves of even a luxury of life. The congressmen chose to keep their own money, which, if reports be true, some of them spend not very creditably; and the people about Washington , no doubt, applauded you for relieving them from the necessity of giving by giving what was not yours to give. The people have delegated to Congress, by the Constitution, the power to do certain things. To do these, it is authorized to collect and pay moneys, and for nothing else. Everything beyond this is usurpation, and a violation of the Constitution.

“‘So you see, Colonel, you have violated the Constitution in what I consider a vital point. It is a precedent fraught with danger to the country, for when Congress once begins to stretch its power beyond the limits of the Constitution, there is no limit to it, and no security for the people. I have no doubt you acted honestly, but that does not make it any better, except as far as you are personally concerned, and you see that I cannot vote for you.’

“I tell you I felt streaked. I saw if I should have opposition, and this man should go to talking, he would set others to talking, and in that district I was a gone fawn-skin. I could not answer him, and the fact is, I was so fully convinced that he was right, I did not want to. But I must satisfy him, and I said to him:

“‘Well, my friend, you hit the nail upon the head when you said I had not sense enough to understand the Constitution. I intended to be guided by it, and thought I had studied it fully. I have heard many speeches in Congress about the powers of Congress, but what you have said here at your plow has got more hard, sound sense in it than all the fine speeches I ever heard. If I had ever taken the view of it that you have, I would have put my head into the fire before I would have given that vote; and if you will forgive me and vote for me again, if I ever vote for another unconstitutional law I wish I may be shot.’

“He laughingly replied: ‘Yes, Colonel, you have sworn to that once before, but I will trust you again upon one condition. You say that you are convinced that your vote was wrong. Your acknowledgment of it will do more good than beating you for it. If, as you go around the district, you will tell people about this vote, and that you are satisfied it was wrong, I will not only vote for you, but will do what I can to keep down opposition, and, perhaps, I may exert some little influence in that way.’

“‘If I don’t,’ said I, ‘I wish I may be shot; and to convince you that I am in earnest in what I say I will come back this way in a week or ten days, and if you will get up a gathering of the people, I will make a speech to them. Get up a barbecue, and I will pay for it.’

“‘No, Colonel, we are not rich people in this section, but we have plenty of provisions to contribute for a barbecue, and some to spare for those who have none. The push of crops will be over in a few days, and we can then afford a day for a barbecue. This is Thursday; I will see to getting it up on Saturday week. Come to my house on Friday, and we will go together, and I promise you a very respectable crowd to see and hear you.’

“‘Well, I will be here. But one thing more before I say good-by. I must know your name.’

“‘My name is Bunce.’

“‘Not Horatio Bunce?’

“‘Yes.’

“‘Well, Mr. Bunce, I never saw you before, though you say you have seen me, but I know you very well. I am glad I have met you, and very proud that I may hope to have you for my friend.’

“It was one of the luckiest hits of my life that I met him. He mingled but little with the public, but was widely known for his remarkable intelligence and incorruptible integrity, and for a heart brimful and running over with kindness and benevolence, which showed themselves not only in words but in acts. He was the oracle of the whole country around him, and his fame had extended far beyond the circle of his immediate acquaintance. Though I had never met him before, I had heard much of him, and but for this meeting it is very likely I should have had opposition, and had been beaten. One thing is very certain, no man could now stand up in that district under such a vote.

“At the appointed time I was at his house, having told our conversation to every crowd I had met, and to every man I stayed all night with, and I found that it gave the people an interest and a confidence in me stronger than I had every seen manifested before.

“Though I was considerably fatigued when I reached his house, and, under ordinary circumstances, should have gone early to bed, I kept him up until midnight, talking about the principles and affairs of government, and got more real, true knowledge of them than I had got all my life before.

“I have known and seen much of him since, for I respect him–no, that is not the word–I reverence and love him more than any living man, and I go to see him two or three times every year; and I will tell you, sir, if every one who professes to be a Christian lived and acted and enjoyed it as he does, the religion of Christ would take the world by storm.

“But to return to my story. The next morning we went to the barbecue, and, to my surprise, found about a thousand men there. I met a good many whom I had not known before, and they and my friend introduced me around until I had got pretty well acquainted–at least, they all knew me.

“In due time notice was given that I would speak to them. They gathered up around a stand that had been erected. I opened my speech by saying:

“‘Fellow-citizens–I present myself before you today feeling like a new man. My eyes have lately been opened to truths which ignorance or prejudice, or both, had heretofore hidden from my view. I feel that I can today offer you the ability to render you more valuable service than I have ever been able to render before. I am here today more for the purpose of acknowledging my error than to seek your votes. That I should make this acknowledgment is due to myself as well as to you. Whether you will vote for me is a matter for your consideration only.’

“I went on to tell them about the fire and my vote for the appropriation and then told them why I was satisfied it was wrong. I closed by saying:

“‘And now, fellow-citizens, it remains only for me to tell you that the most of the speech you have listened to with so much interest was simply a repetition of the arguments by which your neighbor, Mr. Bunce, convinced me of my error.

“‘It is the best speech I ever made in my life, but he is entitled to the credit for it. And now I hope he is satisfied with his convert and that he will get up here and tell you so.’

“He came upon the stand and said:

“‘Fellow-citizens–It affords me great pleasure to comply with the request of Colonel Crockett. I have always considered him a thoroughly honest man, and I am satisfied that he will faithfully perform all that he has promised you today.’

“He went down, and there went up from that crowd such a shout for Davy Crockett as his name never called forth before.

“I am not much given to tears, but I was taken with a choking then and felt some big drops rolling down my cheeks. And I tell you now that the remembrance of those few words spoken by such a man, and the honest, hearty shout they produced, is worth more to me than all the honors I have received and all the reputation I have ever made, or ever shall make, as a member of Congress.

“Now, sir,” concluded Crockett, “you know why I made that speech yesterday.

“There is one thing now to which I will call your attention. You remember that I proposed to give a week’s pay. There are in that House many very wealthy men–men who think nothing of spending a week’s pay, or a dozen of them, for a dinner or a wine party when they have something to accomplish by it. Some of those same men made beautiful speeches upon the great debt of gratitude which the country owed the deceased–a debt which could not be paid by money–and the insignificance and worthlessness of money, particularly so insignificant a sum as $10,000, when weighted against the honor of the nation. Yet not one of them responded to my proposition. Money with them is nothing but trash when it is to come out of the people. But it is the one great thing for which most of them are striving, and many of them sacrifice honor, integrity, and justice to obtain it.”

Holders of political office are but reflections of the dominant leadership–good or bad–among the electorate.

Horatio Bunce is a striking example of responsible citizenship. Were his kind to multiply, we would see many new faces in public office; or, as in the case of Davy Crockett, a new Crockett.

For either the new faces or the new Crocketts, we must look to the Horatio in ourselves!

--

Why does it matter?

https://foreignassistance.gov/

In 2024 alone, the US has “given” $23 BILLION in US Taxpayer money to 203 countries through 11,000+/- “activities”. The US Constitution does NOT allow for any of this money to be handed out.

Additionally, as much as this might chafe, Congress (and all the departmental budgets) are not supposed to dole out money to natural disaster areas. Those areas are supposed to be handled from a private money or private sector restoration perspective. The US government’s job is the infrastructure (roads, bridges, highways, power, etc) to those impacted areas.

--

If you’re mad as hell about the US government saying all these foreign aid projects are more important than anything related to the protection and safety of our country and its citizenry, then your anger is directed in the right direction. Congress’s job and loyalties are supposed to be directed inward; our country is supposed to be their priority. That our country isn’t their priority is treasonous and grounds for impeachment – the whole lot of them.

BUT, as much as we all want to help our fellow citizens in FL, NC, TN, and HI (Maui fires), that’s not the job of the federal government. They’re not doling out “fed funds”; they’re doling out our Taxes that should be going to any number of things including paying off our debts.

It might sound callous in lieu of the recent hurricane and the one coming, but there’s always a tragedy occurring somewhere whether it’s on the news or not. So, by those events, there’s never a good time. That makes now as good a time as any and maybe better than average since everyone is aware of how corrupt and treasonous our current “leadership” has been. Knowing their allegiance is to anyone not an American, now is the opportune time to turn the light back on Constitutional truth and reeducate people regarding the stated duties of Congress.

[accuratepicuresofanthropologists]

Franz Boas

Franz Boas was not the father of American anthropology. But the fact that so many people think he was shows how thoroughly his relentless energy transformed the discipline as we know it today.

Boas around age four

Boas was born in Germany in 1858. He grew up in the shadow of events that happened a decade earlier: The famous ‘Revolutions of 1848’, when people across Europe demanded an end to imperialism, monarchy, and the poverty caused by the Industrial Revolution. Boas grew up in a household of “forty eighters”, and became deeply committed to the ideals of liberty and progress which drove the revolutions. As a young man, Boas received a rigorous education and spent most of his free time outdoors, exploring the natural world. Like his idol Alexander von Humboldt, Boas combined a romantic wonder at nature's rich diversity with a naturalist's love of science, rigor, and classification.

Boas was Jewish, but not because he wanted to be. His parents were wealthy merchants for whom 'progress' meant shedding the ancient superstitions of the past. He didn't have a choice: Germany had given Jews the right to vote and own property, but remained an antisemitic place. Boas was labeled a Jew by others. So he learned to be fearless: In college when he was insulted he demanded a duel. He and his opponent would don goggles to protect their eyes, and then use their sabers to try to slash open each others’ face. “With the damn Jew baiters this winter one could not survive without quarreling and fighting.” He wrote his worried parents, reassuring them. “I remain unmolested since every student here knows that I would not be shy to defend my affairs with the sword.” He was not exaggerating. "He bears the mark of his German university training literally," the Maori anthropologist Te Rangi Hiroa noted, "in a somewhat disfiguring scar across his face". Indeed, one of the first things people noted about Boas were his scars.

Although he was academically gifted, Boas ended up doing a Ph.D. in the unprepossessing university of Kiel. His sister Toni was ill and the Boas family was tight-knit: He went to go live with her. The result was a miserable experience writing a Ph.D. on the color of seawater. His main discovery was that it was incredibly hard to measure the color of sea water. Later on, when he studied how perception is shaped by culture, these insights would come to help him. At the time, he was miserable.

Then love struck: Boas fell head over heels for Marie Krackowizer, a German-American lady whose family of “Forty Eighters” had fled to the US. She loved him too, but they could not be married until he got a job. For that, Boas needed to “habilitate”, a level of education above a Ph.D. He decided on a trip to the arctic, where he would study the influence of geography on Inuit people. He paid for it by writing an account of his travels for a German newspaper, and with a gift of money from the man who would be his principle benefactor in years to come, his uncle Jacobi. His parents insisted that he take along the gardener, Willie, so that he wouldn't be alone.

Boas posing in a German photography studio for an image to share with people demonstrating what his life had been like in Baffinland.

Boas spent a year in Baffinland, an island in the far, far north of Canada. The trip was unbelievably dangerous: Ships had to dock at the edge of the ice and then people would walk across the ice to the island. In the winter it was -40 degrees. Luckily Boas was energetic, focused, and driven by huge energy. He was the sort of person who was disgusted at himself for only working 20 hour days. He did research during the day and read Kant at night. Above all, he came to see Inuit people as people. "The more I see of their customs, the more I realize that we have no right to look down on them," he wrote to Marie in a letter that was spattered with the blood of the raw seal liver he had been eating.

Boas's trip was a success. He habilitated and married his sweetheart Marie. Together they created a loving and warm family. Professional success eluded him, however. Antisemitism made it difficult for him to find a job in Germany, so he moved to the US, where Marie’s family was — there were more opportunities there and Franz was also attracted to America as a land where his political ideals of liberty and freedom were more realized than they were in Germany.

Franz and Marie's wedding portrait.

Unfortunately, Boas found that there were few good jobs for geographers in the US. What people were interested in was Native Americans. Back in 1879 (when Boas was still in school) anthropology as a modern discipline was born in the United States. The goal was to understand the 'natural history of mankind', which in the US meant the origins of Native Americans. Were had they come from and what were they like? Previous answers -- tenuously derived from the Bible -- were clearly inadequate in light of new theories of evolution.

So Boas retooled himself as an anthropologist. He made multiple trips to the Pacific Northwest, a region that he is most closely associated with today. Still, he struggled. He got a dream job as a professor at Clark, a brand new university — only to have the university close down after a few years. He organized anthropological exhibits at the World's Fair at Chicago, hoping it would lead to a permanent position, but it didn’t. It was a dark time for Boas. His third daughter, Hete, was born in Chicago, caught whooping cough, and died in his arms. She was ten months old. Finally, Boas took a job at the American Museum of Natural History in New York and started teaching part time at Columbia. Finally in 1899, at the age of forty, he got a permanent position: He was now a faculty member at Columbia.

"Boas with the George Hunt family. Left to right, standing: David, George, Lalaxs'a, Mary (Ebbetts), Jonathan and Franz Boas. Sitting: Marion and Lucy. From row: Mary and Stanley" from Franz Boas: An Illustrated Biography

At Columbia, Boas was cutting edge. At a time when Harvard and Yale were just beginning to update their medieval curriculums, he had a Ph.D., the new research-focused degree that had made German universities world famous. Boas made history by being the first person in the US to offer a Ph.D. His students included Ruth Benedict, Edward Sapir, Margaret Mead, Robert Lowie, Alfred Kroeber, and many others.

Boas was also a tireless organizer, sitting on boards of journals, foundations, and associations. These positions allowed him to control funding and direct it to students. He was also a close friend of the millionaire feminist and activist Elsie Clews Parsons, who herself funded an entire generation of anthropological fieldwork. Boas worked his students very, very hard but also showed them tremendous loyalty. Boas not only lent money to students in times of need, in one case he signed on as a guarantor of a student loan, agreeing to pay it if the student defaulted.

Boas around the time he began working at Columbia.

True to his principles, Boas believed in meritocracy: If you could do the work, that was all that mattered. As a result he trained a generation of female students at a time when many universities didn’t accept female students at all. He also had few illusions about how much a white person could learn spending their summers on a reservation. For him, the best anthropologist was an insider with scientific training. As a result, he mentored scholars like William Jones (a Fox Indian) and Zora Neale Hurston.

 “Elsie [Clews Parsons] and colleagues at. Lounsberry, mid-1920s. On the porch, Elsie (in shadow on left) talks with Pliny Goddard; on the steps are Margaret Mead, Esther Goldfrank, Franz Boas, and Mrs. Nelson”. Via Deacon’s Elsie Clews Parsons. This picture illustrates the close ties Boas had with his students.

In fact, Boas was an uncompromising opponent of racism. Famously, in May 1906, he traveled to Atlanta University at the invitation of W.E.B. Du Bois and gave a speech claiming black people were biologically equal to white people. This was not a small thing in the Jim Crow South. Four months later, 25 black people were killed in Atlanta in a riot against black people that turned into a massacre. Then in 1909 Boas and a team of twenty researchers made 13,000 measurements of the children of immigrants to see whether they inherited their parents’ ’racial’ features. To his own surprise, Boas found that they didn't -- height, weight, and other factors were the result of the environment, not heredity. His students did similar research. Margaret Mead wrote a paper demonstrating the black people in the Midwest (where there was a strong public school system) did better on standardized tests than poor southern whites: schooling, not race, seemed to determine intelligence. Southern politicians repressed the study.

Boas’s relationship with indigenous people was more complicated. He was not a champion for Indigenous rights. He considered Native Americans conquered by the US and on the verge of cultural and biological extinction. His goal was 'salvage': to make a record of a disappearing culture the same way we have a record of Ancient Greece and Rome. He worked with many indigenous informants like George Hunt, who he paid to write letters detailing their customs. This relationship remains an object of scrutiny today: Did Boas exploit Hunt? Was Hunt Boas’s teacher and mentor? How much should someone be paid to write descriptions of salmon fishing in 1900 anyway?

Whatever we think of Boas’s relationship with Indigenous people today, at Columbia no one thought Boas was a friend to white people. He was considered a dangerous radical who had to be canceled. Not only did Boas attack the racial foundations of America, but when the US entered World War I, Boas was became a public enemy for opposing the war. Remember, this was a time when people where lynched for being German in the US. Columbia stopped paying him. They kept him from teaching undergraduates. They took space away from the department, leaving him with just his office. Boas was, essentially, canceled by the right.

What’s more, Boas's life was beset by personal tragedy. In addition to the death of his ten month old daughter in 1894, in 1924 his daughter Trudel died of polio. In 1925 his son Heini was killed in a car accident. Then in 1929 his wide died in a hit and run accident - the driver who hit her was never found. Boas's misery was palpable even before Marie's death. In 1927 he wrote to his son Ernst:

"I have not the light spirit of others and when I do not work, or else am intensely occupied with something else I can think of nothing but Trudel and Heini. They are there when I get up in the morning and when I stop work at night they are there… If I do not work these thoughts would destroy me." [L-Z v2 275]

Franz Boas featured on the cover of the 11 May 1936 cover of Time Magazine. In his old age, Boas's fight against racism became popular in America again as the US prepared to fascism in Europe.

Late in life Boas received the recognition he deserved, becoming a world-renowned scientist. In America, his anti-racist thinking became more and more recognized as America geared up to fight fascism. In Germany, an event was scheduled to give him an honorary degree. The degree was canceled and his books were pulled from the library and burnt by the Nazis. His last great work of activism was to help Jewish and leftist scholars flee the Nazis and get visas to come teach in America.

When Boas retired, he handed Columbia a gift: despite its attempts to derail him, he had created perhaps the greatest department of anthropology in the United States. And yet here failure dogged him. He had hoped his students Alfred Kroeber and Edward Sapir would come to Columbia to continue his work. Instead they stayed at Berkeley and Yale. His successor became Ruth Benedict, but she was then pushed aside by the administration and replaced by first Ralph Linton and then Duncan Strong.

Boas suffered many setbacks in his life, but he also overcame many obstacles. He lived an extraordinary life: Born before the Civil War, he lived to see the Pearl Harbor bombings. He trained the anthropologists who went on to start departments at Yale, Berkeley, Oregon, and many other places. He produced his famous “six foot shelf” — enough books on Kwakwakwakw that is longer than I was tall. After his death, his grandchildren and George Hunt’s grandchildren had a family reunion, and Hunt’s great grandchildren study anthropology in University. Despite his incredible age, Boas did not live to see just how influential he would become. Although he did not know it at the time, he became one of the few people Boas did not quite Although he may not have recognized or admitted it, he had in fact become one of the most important anthropologists in the world, and left an indelible imprint on the discipline for generations to come.

Sources: This was drawn from Rosemary Lévy-Zumwalt's two volume biography of Boas. The quote from . The reference to 1879 as the 'founding' date of anthropology comes from https://www.jstor.org/stable/658142?seq=1 . The Te Rangi Hiroa quote is from Na to Hoa Aroha volume 3. The blood stained letter is from George Stocking's "From physics to ethnology", p. 148

[theladyofbloodshed]

You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter Three

(If you read the Wings & Embers nessian chapter online, let's pretend it happened but there was no neck nuzzling)

Blood rubies. Damned blood rubies. Azriel had advised against any trip to the Summer Court with a new, untested high lord. They hadn’t yet got the full measure of Tarquin beyond his ambition and desire to see his court succeed. As always, Rhys knew best and cared little for the consequence because he was confident in Velaris’ security. He’d risked himself to get the book that Amren was translating. Then the three chicken-egg sized rubies had been presented to Azriel with glee by Keir at the Hewn City. Now, he had to stretch his spies a little further. Not only did they need to cover the Queens’ residence on the Continent, the Spring Court, and the mortal village that Feyre’s sisters lived in, but Adriata too. Not that any good came from it. He grew increasingly frustrated by the lack of progress. If Tarquin and Varian turned up on the steps of the Hewn City, they’d be none the wiser until it happened. If Azriel failed, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

Azriel wasn’t sleeping. Each day, he pushed the limits of what a fae body should be able to function on. The headache that needled at his temples made him irritable. Mor had commented that he looked gaunt on one of her frequent interceptions; she had a habit of knowing when he’d returned and would often seek him out on the roof. One day, it would snap for them. The mating bond. In truth, he only ever returned to have a brief glimpse of her. There was no other reason to return to Velaris when his skillset was needed elsewhere.

‘You are allowed to take a break, you know,’ she reminded him. ‘Come to Rita’s with us tonight.’

‘When I take a break that means we’re complacent. This city – and its people – are too important to grow complacent with.’

The heavy gait of Cassian sounded as he rounded the stairs from the roof. A sheen of sweat was on his forehead and his hands remained wrapped from whatever training he’d run through with Feyre.

‘If you don’t take a break willingly, your body will decide when it happens, brother.’ He clapped him on the back in greeting. ‘Alright?’

‘I’m fine,’ Azriel deflected.

He wasn’t. He was exhausted. His body was used to running on empty with a little coaxing that it would just be one more night of broken sleep. This was different. A bone-deep exhaustion was burrowing into his marrow with every day that he pushed himself. The pain in his chest hadn’t subsided either although he had grown used to it. It was always with him now, as much as his shadows were.

A shadow wrapped around his hand to disguise it as he plucked an apple from the bowl on the kitchen side. It was the first thing he’d eaten all day and the dim light of his siphons was giving away how much he was flagging.  

Mor gave an easy shrug. ‘Where are you off to next?’

‘I’ll sweep the mortal village.’

‘No need,’ called Cassian as he settled onto the couch in the lounge. ‘I had the pleasure of delivering a letter there last night to the wicked witch of the west.’

Irritation clawed at Azriel’s chest. Rhys knew he would be heading there that evening. It was a long flight for Cassian – and he hadn’t been informed of it. That was surely an oversight. Unless Rhys thought Azriel incapable of delivering a letter. After all, his spies had failed thus far.

Useless, a voice murmured in his ear.  

‘Cass is in a bad mood because of - what did you call her? A bossy know-it-all female?’

Cassian let out a long, deep groan. ‘You’re as bad as Feyre. And her damn sister.’

‘What happened?’

‘Nothing,’ he said, lying because Cassian always had a tell when he lied. He’d shift his shoulders slightly and glance to the left. ‘I just can’t stand her.’

‘Why?’ demanded Azriel.

A familiar hot spike of anger that usually meant he was about to do something reckless pulsed in his veins. His feet took him to the lounge where he stood ready for battle. He forced himself to breathe out then sit. Sleep was definitely needed. There was no need to fight Cassian over visiting the mortal sisters. He pressed cold fingers to his ribs.

‘She let her fourteen-year-old sister go into those woods and hunt while she did nothing. She doesn’t deserve Feyre’s concern. Feyre gave up everything for her.’ Cassian unwound the wraps from his hands as he spoke and bent his fingers. ‘I can’t put up with somebody so selfish and cruel.’  

A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘We weren’t there in that cottage. We only have Feyre’s side.’

‘Feyre wouldn’t lie about it,’ he scoffed. ‘You think her sisters deserve Rhys’ kindness?’

‘My brothers said I deserved what happened to me,’ replied Azriel, voice cold and empty. He couldn’t think of that place for long without spiralling into a hell of his own making.   

Mor’s eyes branded into his skin, snagging on his scars, revulsed by them. Even Cassian, who usually never looked at them, betrayed himself and stared at Azriel’s ruined hands. Azriel rose from the chair, grateful to the shadows that flocked to him, covering him from view.

‘Siblings are complicated. There are two sides to everything.’ He swallowed, regretting saying anything at all. ‘I have to go.’

***

The weather matched Nesta’s mood that afternoon – grey and miserable. A steady thrum of rain had been pattering against the glass for hours, locking them inside the manor. The path towards their manor was soggy and Elain’s baskets of flowers on the windowsill looked as if they were drowning. Although she had tried to occupy her time with needlework and her books, Nesta’s mind was too restless to settle on anything for long. She had been that way since Feyre had made her triumphant return with three strange faeries: One was arrogant and made no secret of it; one was rude and made it everybody’s problem; and the third was permissible, she supposed. Beautiful and well-mannered, but aloof in a way that had unsettled her.

The rude one had turned up the previous night with a letter after flapping around the chimney like an overgrown pigeon. Rather than hand it over at the door, he had insisted on following her all the way to her bedroom to speak. It was most improper. Then again, for a great brute who lacked any sort of manners, Nesta supposed it was normal for him. He had likely conquered many women. He certainly strutted about her house as if he had experience in such areas. She hadn’t liked the way he had looked at her. Or how he had crowded her space. At least the thought of Tomas Mandray had stilled him – and her – because for a moment, Nesta was certain he had been about to kiss her. She might have clawed his face if he tried.

She hissed through her teeth as her needle missed its mark and made her finger bleed.

From her vigil at the window, Elain glanced round. ‘When do you think father will return?’

When his pockets were bloated with coin. When his greed had been satiated. When he remembered he had daughters who needed him.

‘I do not know.’

Her sister fingered the iron engagement ring, turning it this way and that. ‘We cannot marry until he returns.’

Good, Nesta thought, maybe Lord Nolan will be dead by then and Graysen will inherit his title.

‘Then let us hope he returns soon.’

Nesta shifted in her seat. She stretched her neck backwards, bending as far as was comfortable, while she pressed a hand against her ribs.

‘Are you still in pain?’

‘It is nothing,’ she replied swiftly.

Elain frowned. ‘Did the healer truly not know what is causing it?’

They would have been better off throwing their coins down the drain than enlisting that crooked healer ever again. He had been utterly useless, prodding and poking, making her cough and lean over for no good reason. The fraud had concluded that there was nothing wrong with her, except stress was causing her phantom pain. A good dose of sea air was his recommendation. Those years of stress in their rotten cottage hadn’t caused any such pain but a couple of weeks with fae in her life had successfully managed it.

‘Tuberculosis. I shall leave you my books in my will,’ she said, turning back to her needlework.

‘You should not make such jokes, Nesta. If it is true that faeries are coming here to war then-’

‘Then whoever is still standing may inherit my entire library. Is that better?’

Her tone left Elain in a stunned silence. The mortal queens would hopefully be arriving soon and they’d be tasked with playing hosts. Nesta did not want to think of the consequences of the meeting – of what could happen to her people. The realistic answer was a brutal death. Since Feyre had turned up on the doorstep, she felt as if she was constantly holding in a breath, waiting for something awful to appear around a corner as war brewed. It kept her up at night. Feyre’s tale – how she had died and returned as a faerie – haunted her too. She could not think of her youngest sister’s sacrifice without growing tearful. Nesta wished that she had kept Feyre there the day they had painted together rather than sending her off with hope that she would have a happy ever after with her high lord. Instead, she’d met her death then a fate worse than it.

Her grey eyes shifted to her younger sister. Even with her face turned towards the window, Nesta could make out the forlorn expression from Nesta’s barbed words. They were all guilty of wrapping Elain up to never feel any bumps or sharp edges. A slightly venomous tongue could wound Elain. Nesta knew little of war, but she’d approach it the same way she approached anything else, with steely determination to make it through. Elain? Elain was delicate. War would break her. A life without Graysen would ruin her. Nesta knew she needed to stop taking out her worries on Elain, but she needed her sister to open her eyes to the world. It could be cruel and hard. They had protected Elain for as long as they could, but one day this world might chew her up and spit her out if she didn’t toughen up.  

‘Elain, would you ask Mrs. Laurent to prepare tea? She always gives biscuits when you ask. Then I’d like to hear about your plans for the western portion of the garden.’

Because they had made her soft, Elain was easy to mould. A compliment here or there did the trick. Elain loved to be wanted; she excelled in social situations. And Nesta hated that she used Elain like a puppet sometimes.

She gave Nesta a lovely smile then went in search of the housekeeper. Mrs. Laurent adored her. All of the staff did.

As she stood, Nesta let out a sigh then discarded her embroidery in the chair. At the window, she gazed out across the manor’s grounds. Mist that had been conjured by the rain curled around the stone walls that lined the property. It was a bleak day. The sort of day that drives hope into the ground. Nesta held her hand over her chest to soothe the pain blooming there.

If it came to war, Nesta would go wherever Elain went. It was her fault her sister was naïve and delicate. She had already failed one sister – as her new friends were keen to remind her.  She would not let Elain down.

***

How could it be?

The fading light had made his shadows stronger. He only recognised the sister thanks to the lamp illuminating the room. She stood at the window, tall and thin – too thin. His shadows engulfed him, obscuring him from view. Beyond that, Azriel had shielded himself too. Not even Rhys would know he was there. He didn’t know why he had come here. There had been a pull that demanded he ensure the house was safe. And it was. But he couldn’t leave because the eldest sister stood in the damn window staring at him.

How could it be?

Azriel knew that Nesta wasn’t truly seeing him, but her eyes had passed along the stone wall then stopped exactly where he was stood somehow like a force had compelled her to do it. There had been no shock, no cry of alarm. Her gaze had just settled there, almost in a trance. Her fingers splayed out across her ribs, rubbing against them without conscious thought.

The thought of Cassian coming here to war with her infuriated him for some reason. They had no blame in this; they were two mortals trapped between warring fae. They were asking these sisters to uproot their lives and potentially sacrifice their standing in society to host the Queens. Whatever had occurred during a youth of poverty was between the sisters, not for Cassian to meddle with. The level of anger towards Cassian wasn’t justified though. Azriel knew he needed to rest before he became undone. His anger was sputtering out of him as bad as it was when he was a boy, before he could keep it leashed.

His attention snagged on the blurred outline over Nesta’s shoulder. It was the middle sister. She carried in a tray of tea then settled it on a table. He swore he saw a brief smile flicker over Nesta’s lips. It evaporated as quickly as it arrived, but it had been real. She turned back to the window for a moment, silver eyes sweeping the grounds, canvassing over him again, before she tugged the thick, blue curtains across.

The mortals were safe. The house was secure. And he had work to do. There was no reason to remain any longer.

But as he winnowed to the Continent, the ache in his chest seemed to give a sigh of relief, like something restless there had settled.