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sc0tters · 8 months

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A Night To Remember | Sidney Crosby

summary: you and Sidney have been at odds since you met, but when he shows up at your apartment wanting to talk things take an unexpected turn.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v (unprotected), fingering, oral (fem receiving), choking, slight captain kink, swearing, legal age gap (reader is 23!)

word count: 4.67k

authors note: I have never written for Sidney but I’ve also never had a smut be this long. I loved this one though, ending wasn’t really planned out, but if you want a part two let me know!

next part | final part

This was a game that the nation was captured by.

You were looking forward to it as it meant you got to catch up with your brother. Connor’s ride since he got drafted had been one of a kind, but you were always there to make sure that your little brother didn’t let his ego get too full. The five years between you felt like nothing as he was your right hand man.

Which is why he knew all about your dislike for your teams captain, you joined the Penguins straight after you graduated. Finding your dream internship with their physio team, a year on and you were hired in a full time role.

For the most part the players liked you, believing that you were the breath of life that the aging physio team so desperately needed. You helped the rookies settle as you took on the big sister role and everyone appreciated, well everyone except Sidney.

From the moment you joined the team it seemed that he had it out for you, refusing to get treated by someone so young. Not letting you get a word in during conversations that you were originally in until he inserted himself into it, don’t even forget about the fact that he ever addressed you and when he did it was always kid. The title pissed you off beyond belief, it wasn’t the word itself but it was the fact that it came from his mouth.

As much as everyone tried to help you two get along by doing anything from sitting you two next to each other at dinners or on the plane, it always ended up in arguments. You being too loud, him being close to a punch in the face, ultimately it got to the point where it was too awkward for the team and everyone just accepted the fact that you two were not destined to be friends.

Sure it created a rift in the team but they managed to keep you two separated.

This game was your turn to sit on the bench to be there for immediate attention but that meant you were next to an irritated Sidney as he came off after letting Connor get past him to score a goal. If you weren’t working with the Penguins you would have openly admitted that Connor was wiping the floor with Sidney, but as you were sat next to the team captain all you could do was send him a sympathetic smile as this clearly wasn’t an ego boost to get sent to the bench after letting the rookie score.

Constantly you had to remind yourself not to cheer whenever Connor did something good, you were always going to play the proud sister role but that didn’t stop the glares that Sidney sent in your direction as he had picked up that there was a relationship between and the Blackhawks boy.

Practically the moment after the post game talks you were out of the locker room waiting for Connor “does she realise that we lost?” Sidney spat looking at Lars as your grin increased ten fold seeing your brother make his way over to you wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

Lars wanted to laugh at the irritated look on his teammates face “she just missed him,” he swore that the older boy knew your relation to the younger boy. Half of the boys had been teasing you about the long awaited match up ever since the draft, but apparently Sidney remained oblivious to it all “he still giving you shit?” Connor asked feeling the rival captains eyes on you two.

You rolled your eyes as you sent Sidney a glare “he keeps on acting like a fucking child.” You nodded as you complained not wanting to see the older boy during recovery tomorrow as he had been put on your roster.

Sidney stared at you not letting his eyes leave you, even when people spoke to him “I am at the end of my ropes with him.” You added shaking your head as you were growing tired of the way he treated you.

Sure you acted like you didn’t care, but the only thought that went through your brain as you lay in bed was what did you do to make him hate you. Ultimately the only reason why you sent him back everything he handed to, was because you had too much pride to admit that someone might genuinely just not like you.

Connor placed his hand on your shoulder “just continue playing nice until he realises that he needs to grow up.” His blunt words made you smile as you ruffled your hand in his hair.

Talking to your brother was making you feel better about it all “for now I just want to kill him.” You confessed as you had been arguing more with Sidney more recently as you had before “kid boss wants you.” He called out causing you to roll your eyes as you frowned.

You gave Connor another hug “I’ll see you around,” you sighed as you didn’t want to piss Sidney off further “don’t let him get to you.” Connor gave you a smile before you walked off with the team captain hot on your tail.

When you eventually found yourself stood in front of coach Sullivan all he did was smile “what can I do for you y/n?” He asked causing you to raise your eyebrows in surprise.

In all honesty you should have seen this one coming from Sidney “just came to talk to Sid.” You scrunched your nose in annoyance as you grabbed the captains hand bringing him into the empty physio’s office since this wasn’t the conversation you wanted to have in the open. This way you could call him every name you wanted to

Sidney looked at you with a smirk as you crossed your arms “what the hell are you playing at Crosby?” You scoffed pointing your finger into his chest.

It made the boy let out a dry chuckle “you were all cozy with that rookie and I’m the bad guy?” His question made you stop as your eyes went wide letting your hands drop to your sides.

Now it was your turn to laugh “god Sid I’m not like you,” you shook your head “I don’t need to sleep with everything that moves to feel content with myself.” The statement had taken him aback as you brought up his well known bachelor lifestyle where he had new girls in his bed every week.

Sidney managed to keep his calm demeanour as he leaned against the wall “you jealous?” He joked causing you to want to slap him “you should go fuck yourself Crosby.” You spat feeling your skin seething with anger.

The boy remained silent smirking as you showed him how much he irritated you “or better yet go fuck some little puck bunny cause that’s all you’re gonna get.” Your hand poked at his chest finally deciding that it was time to call it an evening “have a nice night dickhead.” Left your lips in a mumble before you pushed past him leaving the older boy just as irritated as he was before the conversation with you.

From the moment you got home you were trying to do anything you could to relax, the bubble bath, the glass of red wine with a shitty romcom, all of it. So what you didn’t expect was that in the middle of rewatching Bridget Jones’ Diary that there was going to be a knock at the door “this better be good.” You mumbled to yourself as you got up letting your feet slip back into your duck slippers as the cold wood floor seemed too much for your feet to handle.

You continued to mumble things to yourself as you chugged back the rest of your wine before you placed the glass on the table letting your hands grow bare when you opened the door “puck bunnies finally realise that there are better players around?” you asked trying to shut the door in his face.

Unfortunately for you Sidney’s athletic abilities were too quick for you as he moved his hand between the door and the frame “got a few girls waiting for me downstairs.” He lied teasing you as he let himself into your apartment.

It made you want to scream “I am not in the mood to hear whatever stupid you plan on letting out of your mouth.” You confessed as you ran your fingers through your hair “so let’s just pack it in and go talk to the girls who actually give a fuck about what you have to say.” You patted his shoulder before you tried to try around to go back to your couch.

Sidney scoffed as he followed you further into your apartment “don’t think they would care about how much of a bitch you are.” His comment had you stopping dead in your tracks.

Slowly you spun around trying to think of what you were going to say “that’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black,” you pointed out as your eyes went into a sharp line.

Your lips smacked together “you are a condensing little asshole who sticks his dick in anything that moves.” Your voice was laced with venom “so I am going to remind again. Go. Talk. To. Someone. Who. Cares.” Each of those last words were like a slap in the face to the older boy.

His eyes went down your body noting the Canadian hockey training T-shirt that looked like it was a dress on you “god you are so irritating Crosby.” You let out a chuckle rubbing your hands over your face as you locked eyes with him.

The way you chewed at the inside of your cheek like you were thinking about something “you should go,” you added turning to bring him back to your door.

Sidney wrapped his hand around your wrist pulling you back to face him as your chest went flush with his “sometimes you need to keep your mouth shut,” he mumbled hooking his fingers under your jaw leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss before you even got the chance to argue with him.

It was aggressive, almost knocking you over as Sidney finally had the chance to put all of the irritating thoughts about you into something. Teeth clattered when your hands went up underneath his shirt “still want me to go?” Sidney teased letting his hands shift to your cheeks as he forced you to look up at him.

You scoffed letting out an unamused laugh “don’t make me regret what I’m thinking of doing.” You warned causing him to smile “thought I only fucked puck bunnies,” his voice was soft as you matched his smile “someone had to take one for the team and show you what you are missing.” Your comment matched the playful tone of his own as it was finally what he needed to hear to go back to kissing you.

His hands ran up the backs of your thighs “jump baby,” Sidney mumbled against your lips causing you to listen to him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as you kicked those duck slippers off of your feet “thought they were cute,” the pout on his lips made you laugh “shut up,” the shake of your head as you pointed him in the direction of your bedroom made him smile “make me,” his words had your lips back on his all the way until he got back into your room.

The taste of your vanilla lipgloss went straight to his brain as it was scratching an itch that he didn’t know he had “you sure you want this?” He asked letting your body drop onto your bed.

All you could do was nod “don’t start caring about what I have to say now,” you mumbled feeling like the fact that you had let him into your bedroom should have been a clear enough answer “want to hear you say it.” Sidney’s tone was serious as he dropped to his knees comfortably finding his position between your legs as his hands went to either side of you caging you in beneath him.

You took the moment to notice how his eyes stared into your soul, lips hovering just above yours. Whimpers left your lips as you tried to push yourself closer to him attempting to lift your lips to his “just fuck me Sidney.” Your vulgar words were things that Sidney found hard to ignore, you didn’t usually call him by his name usually opting for Sid or Crosby (those were the appropriate ones that you said to his name).

His lips were rough against yours leaving you wanting to cry out in pleasure as his jeans rubbed against your clothed pussy “could have had this months ago,” Sidney pointed out as he moved his lips to your neck as his hands went down to the bottom of the shirt you had stolen from Connor “yeah but your mouth fucking ruined that.” You pointed out forcing your hips up as his fingers found their home wrapping around the waistband of your thong.

It was white reminding him of your innocence as Sidney wanted to feel dirty when the thoughts of how you tasted went through his mind when in actuality all he felt was desire “open your mouth for me,” he ordered as his two fingers tapped on your lower lip.

Of course you listened to him as you clenched around nothing, simply being turned on by the idea of him bossing you around “suck” Sidney swore he was dreaming as your tongue swirled around those two digits treating them like you would if they were his cock “so fucking obedient all of a sudden.” The hockey player noted letting his other hand come to your panties as he pulled them off of you once and for all “All you needed was a good fuck thought wasn’t it?” His breath fanned between your thighs as he refused to let his fingers leave your mouth.

The only thing you could do was nod as an inaudible ‘yeah’ was only met with a grunt when he felt the vibrations from your mouth go straight to his cock.

Sidney removed his fingers letting out a low groan as the trail of spit followed his fingers breaking as it landed on your chin “gonna make you feel so good,” it was like he was giving you the heads up as his fingers now soaked in your spit went to you bare pussy letting the calloused tips go against your clit.

Your head dug its way further into your mattress giving the boy the perfect chance to let his lips go back to your neck sucking at the soft skin when his fingers began thrusting inside of you “holy shit you’re soaked!” Sidney gasped bringing your one thigh up so that he could get a deeper angle “makes me think you’ve been wanting this all along.” His voice was deep, bait hanging over you like he wanted you to take it.

Temptation hung over you as the boys thumb found it’s place against your clit whilst his other fingers didn’t let up “still can’t fucking stand you.” You confessed being honest as you swore you were going to go into tomorrow acting like this hadn’t happened “so cute when you lie.” Sidney cooed placing a kiss on your temple.

His fingers were thick as your core clenched around them “fucking hell cap,” you groaned bringing your hands through your shirt so that you could tease your nipples.

That phrase made his eyes grow darker than they already were “what did you just call me?” The pressure he had on your clit increased when he had to make sure he wasn’t hearing things.

You gasped when his other hand replaced yours on your breast “c-cap,” your eyes screwed shut when he lower his lips to wrap them around the other nipple.

When his teeth ever so softly nipped at the sensitive peak your eyes shot open locking with his.

A smirk was clearly on his face as he began to pickup the pace that he was fingering you at “‘m not gonna last,” you confessed bringing your hips up to grind on his fingers “yes you will baby.” Sidney nodded removing his lips from your nipple as he planted kisses down the valley of your breasts making his way past your stomach “so fucking pretty.” He groaned hearing the squelching of your pussy as he replaced his thumb with his tongue over your clit.

At that point you knew you were teetering over the edge as your fingers locked into his hair “want to you look at me when you come,” as soft as it came out you knew that he wasn’t asking you to do it, he was telling you.

With all of your energy you let your eyes trail down from your ceiling to stare at his.

What you never expected was that he’d have eyes that could practically undress you as they stared at yours “please let me come!” You begged as tears were close to forming in your eyes due to how you felt “mhm,” Sidney nodded moving his hand that was still on your breast down to your thighs so that he could hold you in place.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck as your body shuddered so hard you almost bounced on your bed “shit shit holy fuck!” You called out letting a string of profanities leave your lips as your hands wrapped up in the bedsheet beneath you.

Sidney didn’t let his thrusts slow down though once you came back down from the orgasm “Sid ‘s too much,” you shook your head trying to wiggle out of his grip.

He wanted to laugh at the sigh you let out when you accepted your fate “taste so sweet baby,” Sidney finally pulled away from you as he wanted you to last when he fucked you.

His fingers covered in your release tapped on your lip “taste yourself for me,” he mumbled letting himself watch as you let his fingers almost fuck your face with the way he was helping you take them.

You wanted to clench your thighs as you could see how Sidney’s chin was glistening but with his legs in between yours, you instead let out a groan “so sweet isn’t it?” Sidney asked letting his fingers slide out of your mouth as he had enough of watching that.

The boy softly grabbed your jaw as he brought himself down to kiss you once more “fuck baby,” he grunted as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

It was hot as he brought you onto his lap flipping you two over in the process. This was the first time that you got to feel his boner as you were now sat on his jeans “so big,” you mumbled as you let your fingers tug at his shirt as you wanted it off.

Sidney smiled as he pulled away from you “not fair you being in so little isn’t it?” He asked watching you nod as he pulled his shirt over his head.

You had seen his chest before, plenty of times in fact but you still couldn’t help it when your breathing stopped as you took in his chest beneath you “like what you see?” Sidney tucked your hair behind your ear letting his fingers run down your jaw before he pulled you into another kiss.

Your hips unintentionally moved against his jeans letting yourself get brought close to another orgasm “next time you come I’m gonna be inside of you.” His breath fanned against the shell of your ear causing your head to fall back.

The boy helped you off of him so that he could unbuckle his belt “who would have thought you looked this fucking pretty under all your clothes.” Sidney grunted when he saw your fully naked body as you threw your shirt onto the floor.

It made your cheeks turn pink “finally seeing what the bunnies enjoy,” you smirked seeing his cock as it hit his torso.

That comment was a stroke to his ego as he looked in his wallet “fuck,” he groaned seeing the lack of a condom in his wallet.

You were quick to catch on to what made him upset “I’m on the pill,” you announced shrugging as there was too much tension between your thighs to let him leave your apartment without letting you come.

Sidney swore he was on cloud nine when you said that, usually the girls that he slept with were ones that he wanted to wear a condom for. But you were one that he was actually excited to fuck you raw “you sure?” He asked watching you wrap your hand around his cock “don’t go all soft on me now cap.” You had realised earlier that his title evoked this animalistic side of him.

He lowered himself onto your bed for what seemed like the hundredth time of the night “so pretty,” you smiled as he kissed your lips.

His cock was hard as he directed it over your clit letting it tease the sensitive nub “don’t be a dick Crosby,” you mumbled sending him a glare until he listened to you as he thrusted his cock inside of your pussy.

You wrapped your hands around his arms eyes screwed shut as you adjusted to his size “who would have thought that this is how I shut you up.” Sidney leaned down to kiss you as his movement had you groaning when he ended up letting his cock slide deeper into you.

Sidney was quick to smile as you tapped his arm “god,” you groaned feeling him hit spots that you could only ever imagine of feeling.

The way you wrapped around his cock made him feel like he was the only man in the world “god ain’t here princess,” he mumbled smiling as your head tilted digging further into your pillow.

You wanted to scoff as he nipped at your jaw “only thing is a guy with a small dick.” You warned smirking at him as you scowled.

Your comment made him one to fuck you into oblivion “gonna make you regret that.” The hockey player confessed as he readjusted your hips forcing his cock deeper into you “like that now huh?” Sidney asked letting his hand go around your throat as he watched your eyes roll back into your head.

Sounds of skin slapping lit up your apartment as grunts and moans mixed into it “don’t stop,” you pleaded letting your hand go on top of his.

It was hot how his fingers never fully pressed in at the sides of your throat meaning that your blood flow only slightly slowed down “pussy was made for me Jesus.” Sidney groaned moving his other hand between you both so it could attack your clit.

With all your focus you smiled “only me cap,” you let out a giggle as he brought his lips back down to yours “just like heaven.” He murmured letting his lips engulf yours in a kiss.

You had to admit that the sex was probably in your top five as Sidney’s cock throbbed from inside of you “can you feel me in there baby?” He asked moving his hand from your throat to rest on your lower stomach where he placed enough pressure that even he could feel his cock thrusting.

A cry left your lips “so fucking full!” You nodded as you didn’t think that you were going to last much longer especially because you were still sensitive from your first orgasm of the night.

Sidney picked up on this as your core began clenching around him “gonna ruin you for all other men,” he confessed letting you know just what his intentions were.

With only another orgasm on your mind you didn’t care what he said “please Sid,” you begged looking up at him like he was the only man who mattered.

If any of the guys from the team knew what you two were getting up to right now they would never have believed it “keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last long baby.” The hockey player murmured with his fingers digging into your side “gonna come,” you announced feeling your toes curl up as the boy didn’t let up on his motions.

What you didn’t expect him to do was growl at you “fucking hold it,” he warned causing you to sink your teeth into your lower lip.

You wanted to cry “i-I can’t Sid,” you shook your head feeling your eyes begin to grow shaky.

Sidney leaned down to your ear “we both know that ain’t what you been calling me in here.” He mumbled placing a kiss on your ear lobe.

He wanted to say that he was proud of himself for lasting this long “please cap fuck,” you whimpered as your legs shook from either side of him “be a good girl for you,” you added almost setting off his orgasm right there.

That was the moment that he knew he couldn’t last any longer “come for me baby fuck,” Sidney blurted out as your orgasm hit you like a truck letting you see stars.

Your cry could have been heard from anywhere on the floor “don’t stop,” but you didn’t care as you felt Sidney shoot his release into you “so good,” he grunted as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

He kissed your lips as he let his cock slide out of your pussy causing your body to shudder to again “you okay?” Sidney asked as your eyes repeated blinked at him.

All you could do was nod “I’m gonna get a washcloth.” He mumbled pressing a kiss to your forehead as he got up making his way to your bathroom.

You smiled to yourself as you propped your head up by your hand watching his bare ass move away from you “that Bedard?” Sidney’s eyes went wide as he picked up the picture frame and looked at the image of you and Connor from when you were kids.

Guilt hit the Canadian like a truck as he realised the resemblance between you two “why did you tell me he’s your brother!” He groaned pinching the bridge of his nose.

A laugh left your lips “you choosing to ignore the fact that Bedard is my last name ain’t my fault old man.” You teased him as Sidney placed the picture frame back down on your table “I know you ain’t calling the man who made you come like that old.” His words made you laugh as he decided to forget about the wash cloth and instead come back to your bed.

As his knees hit the mattress you knew you were getting what you wanted “most men usually get three orgasms out of me.” You confessed smiling as his lips were back down by yours.

Sidney was naturally competitive, and the fact that it came from you only meant more “that just means I’m gonna have to make you go four more rounds then.” His words showed you that he wasn’t going to messing around.

Seven weeks later

You nervously sat in your bathroom as you waited for the timer to go off. Your period was late by more than a few weeks and there was only one man you had slept with since your last cycle. Since Sidney left your apartment he had gone back to his old ways making you feel stupid for ever even letting him in.

The timer went off pulling you away from your thoughts as you flipped over the series of tests that you had taken “oh fuck me!”

Pregnant

Now you were going to have to tell this child’s father.

#crosby x Bedard sister!#sidney crosby #sidney Crosby imagines #Sidney Crosby smut #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey smut #nhl smut #amber writes fics

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derangedhyena-delphinidae · 9 months

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URGENT! DO YOU WANT TO HELP THE SOUTHERN RESIDENTS? PLEASE HELP US WRITE, CALL AND TEXT!

A lawsuit, National Wildlife Federation vs National Marine Fisheries Service, may finally determine the fate of the 4 Lower Snake River Dams, the salmon who spawn there and the remaining 75 Southern Resident Orca who desperately need salmon to survive. Biden needs to know that we want those dams breached. He's broken enough of his climate promises - let him know that, and the extinction of these amazing animals, isn't an option!

Public comment is also being sought on the matter. Please visit our page, BidenBreachNow, for talking points, social media shareables, and extensive information about why the dams need to go. This is a critical time. Please call, text, write or email, every day if you can, until August 31st. Even if you already have acted and/or shared, please do it again. Please keep sharing because every voice counts! The Snake River was once one of the top salmon rivers in the world. That is sadly no longer the case. Four deadbeat dams on the Lower Snake River have cost an estimated 8 to 9 billion dollars in failed salmon recovery attempts - taxpayer money! - and they lose millions more every year generating unstorable surplus energy. What they do sell is often sold at a loss. The dams continue to get older and costlier to maintain, while solar and wind energy have replaced their power output; energy efficiency alone has done the same seven times over.

These dams aren't even clean energy! Their reservoirs emit huge amounts of methane, which contributes to the climate crisis. Please help spread this if you can, and join in. We have a real chance here to get this done - so let's do it.

As the late and great Ken Balcomb said: "We're at a point in history where we need to wake up to what we have to consider: do we want whales, or not?"

He never stopped fighting for the Southern Residents, and neither should we.

#srkw #bidenbreachnow #orca #salmon #orcanize #southern residents #snake river dams #killer whale #conservation

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avnasace · 6 months

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( mild 4.2 aq spoilers )

i love the running theme of grief with furina and ei, genuinely such well written female characters (say what you will about the inazuma archon quests idc i love raiden)

ei felt the grief of her sister dying and the loss of her nations people during the cataclysm so badly that she sacrificed her body and locked herself away in isolation because she thought she'd be of more help to her people that way as an emotionless puppet, even though she missed her friends, sister and nation so dearly.

while furina felt her own grief towards her nations prophecy and her grief of the loss of her own autonomy so closely that she both locked herself away but also shoved herself into the spotlight to make her nation feel more secure, putting on a draining act and taking on her people pain alone for 500 years that burnt her out in the end so much she had to retire

its genuinely amazing to be able to follow them both through their recovery of their own selves and reintegrating themselves into the nations they loved so much that they sacrificed everything they had for.

they have many similarities and differences but they both did what they did for their people and the ones they love, one left and then stepped up, and the other stepped up and now is finally letting herself rest, its really beautifully tragic and heartwarming<3

#i love these two so much #i never thought furina would be one of my favourites but she really is #their stories are so tragic #i love them #raiden shogun #raiden ei #inazuma #furina #focalors #furina de fontaine #fontaine #genshin impact #genshin 4.2 spoilers #4.2 spoilers #ace rambles

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luminetti · 6 months

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𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 ༺♡༻ Chapter 1

༘⋆ Summary: In the world of Faerûn, a new season of love begins for the upper echelons in the nation's capital Baldur’s Gate, gathering a plethora of unwed Lords and Ladies from across the nation. For Miss y/n Neredras, the season only promises another disappointing series of suitors and failed courting, until one night she suddenly finds Lord Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep on her doorstep with a gunshot wound through his stomach, seeking discreet refuge and recovery after a devastating duel. ༘⋆ Pairing: lord!gale dekarios x fem!reader/tav, brief wyll x reader, mentions of (previous) mystra x gale ༘⋆Warnings: blood and bullet wounds, eventual hurt/comfort, mystra's weird predatory behavior (fuck mystra) ༘⋆Notes: set in the regency era and very loosely inspired by bridgerton (I’ve never watched it). i had to make a lot of edits to make this work out how i want so keep in mind that the following changes have been made: - Faerûn and Waterdeep are neighboring countries - Baldur’s Gate is the capital of Faerûn - Mystra (and all the gods) is human - Mystra lives in Waterdeep - Gale is 21 and reader is around 19 (something something, regency age for marriage, something)

༘⋆ Chapters: ┆[1] ┆[2]┆[3]┆[4]┆[5]┆[6] ┆[7] ┆

ao3

You cursed yourself for getting in such a position as you heaved a bloodied body onto your goose down bed sheets, dark sticky crimson clinging to your skin and the front of your white nightgown. The body landed with a soft flump, leaving a suspicious looking trail of blood towards the center of your bed. Normally you were against opening the door for strange men in the middle of the night, but a gunshot wound to the stomach usually prohibited acts of violence, unless the attacker wanted to bleed out to death, so you deemed it safe enough. You made sure to grab a fire poker from the fireplace on your way back from the medicine cabinet, just in case.

Blood was beginning to pool underneath the man, signaling that if you were to do anything, it had to be done with haste. Fighting back a gag at the tangy metal aroma, you undid his vest and undershirt, pulling it off and discarding it somewhere on the floor. The bullet had thankfully wedged itself near the surface of his flesh making it an easy grab with a pair of tweezers. The wound itself proved to be more of a challenge. Stitches were required to stop the bleeding, but the needle slipped around between your fingers, and attempting to wipe the slick blood off your hands just made more of a mess. After a bit of adjusting, and a lot of wiping, you finally managed a messy line of seven uneven stitches.

For the first time in the past half hour, the thumping of your heartbeat began to fade from your ears, allowing you to process what had just happened.

You took a moment to look him over. He looked around your age. Around twenty– no, twenty-one? It was hard to tell with so much hair in his face. From what you could make out, he appeared to be a reasonably attractive man. Perhaps a bit unkempt, you thought, but as to be expected at this time of night. With his chestnut brown hair, he vaguely reminded you of Clyde, your childhood dog. Though intended as a compliment, you made a mental note to keep that one to yourself when–if ever–he awoke. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep that was drawing you to the curve of his jawline, but with a start, you realize you had been staring for far too long. Blinking away your daydreams, you see the scene in front of you as it truly is.

There was a body in your bed.

You frantically reach over the bed to press two fingers firmly against his neck, feeling around for a pulse. Was he even still alive? A slow and faint periodical throb against your fingertips pulls a heavy sigh of relief out of your weary body, and you slump against the side of the bed. Thank the gods.

Unfortunately, the fact he was alive did not solve the strange-man-in-bed issue. Once he had been securely wrapped in several layers of bandages–any more and he may appear mummified–you weren’t sure what else there was to do. So, you recruited the only person in the household that could keep their mouth shut. Your older sister, Euphemia.

“By Jove, sister… you’ve killed a man…” Euphemia looked pale-faced and wide eyed in horror at the seemingly lifeless body and blood adorning your room.

“Stop it.” You hissed under your breath, closing the bedroom door behind her. “He’s not dead. And would you keep your voice down?”

Euphemia looked from you to the body, then to your crimson hands and nightgown. “Are you to tell me he is… sleeping?” She asked, incredulously, her voice quavering.

You sighed, exasperated. You grabbed her wrist, much to her resistance, and forcefully pressed her fingers against his neck. “There. He is very much alive. Now will you please help me?”

Your sister sighed in relief. “Gods… He looks mauled.” She eyed your butchered stitchings. “Not a slight on your abilities, of course. Spoken from a place of love.”

“Mock me all you want when we break fast, sister.” You toss her a wet washcloth. “As for now, make haste and wipe down the headboard. I’ll deal with the floor.”

“I merely jest.” She replied, rounding the bed beside the body.

As she approached the unconscious man, she froze, the cloth in her hand dropped to the ground as you heard a sharp intake of breath. Startled, you jump up from your knees.

“Hells, are you hurt?” You turned, expecting to see a splinter or bruise. Alas, Euphemia just stood shell shocked, staring down towards the body. You looked at the man yourself, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Euphemia leaned closer to the body and swept the hair from his face. “I’ve seen this man’s portrait before.” She crouched beside him, studying his features. “It was in a museum of art from other nations.” Closing her eyes, she recounted the museum. “It was a family portrait. So this must be…” Euphemia turned back to you, mystified. “The Viscount of Waterdeep.”

You stared at her. “...Who?”

“The Viscount, Lord Gale Dekarios.”

✣ ✣ ✣

The rest of the night–technically the early morning–passed surprisingly peacefully, with the only hiccup being a lack of bed space. Euphemia made sure to chide you thoroughly for even suggesting that she take Gale to her room instead. In your defense, he had a larger bed than yours. After some back and forth, Euphemia declared that she’d be ruined if someone found her alone with a foreign Viscount, and her hopes of being courted would be gone. You, however, were newer to the season and very much single–which she didn’t hesitate to enunciate–and therefore could afford a scandal or two.

Cursing her under your breath, you reluctantly slipped under the covers, a good sixteen inches apart from the supposed Viscount. Despite everything, you easily drift off into a sound sleep.

A sudden shift in the bed startles you awake. Groggily, you sat up to see early morning sunrays softly beaming through your windows. Your mind clouds with exhaustion as you attempt to recall the night prior. In your fatigue you barely manage to picture a sharp jawline and soft brown hair. A dream, you conclude. Just another fantasy to forget about. You were about to lean back down when you heard the soft squeak of your bed spring from beside you, followed by a hushed murmur.

“Shit.”

Turning towards the voice, you came face to face with a pair of warm chestnut eyes, staring straight back at you. Lord Gale Dekarios–very much not from a dream–stood with one knee on your bed and his other foot on your floor, attempting to leave without a sound. His face was tense with pain and his hand pressed over the wet bandages covering his wound.

You made no move to stop him, merely watching as he gawked at you dumbstruck like a child with his hand trapped in a cookie jar. “What are you doing?” you asked.

It was as if you had two heads with the way he stared at you.

“My deepest apologies for the intrusion last night,” he managed to stammer out, quickly collecting himself and beginning to stand from the bed. “By Jove, I will leave right away-”

“Why?” You cut him off.

He choked out a confused sputter. “Pardon?”

You gestured to his bloodied bandages. “You are injured. Are you not?”

His eyes flicked to the wound before returning to your questioning gaze. “I am.” He replied, slowly.

“So sit. Unless you mean to walk home.” Standing from the bed, you scoured the room for the remainder of the bandages you brought from before.

Gale hesitantly perched himself on the edge of your bed frame, unsure how to proceed. After a couple moments of watching you flit around the room, he cleared his throat. “Pray tell, which residence am I in the company of?”

Upon gathering the materials and medicines, you sat across from him, laying out the paraphernalia in between you both. “This is the Neredras Manor,” you replied, beginning to work on replacing his dark, oxidized bandages.

From up close you could finally make out his facial features in detail. His jawline was as you remembered, but his hair was finger-combed back against his neck, almost brushing against his shoulders. His atmosphere had changed as well. Despite his grim injuries, a warm feeling surrounded him, almost like an aura of liveliness. You leaned into him, passing the bundle of old bandages around his body as you unwrapped. In such close proximity you just barely manage to make out faint traces of spicy cinnamon, crisp parchment, and freshly lit firewood.

You froze and pulled back sharply. You had completely forgotten yourself. He hadn’t noticed, had he? You glanced up briefly, only to be immediately met by chestnut eyes that bore into you with a thousand-yard stare, and lips ever so slightly muttering to himself as if he was lost in thought.

“...Pretty.” Gale whispered, barely intelligible.

“What?”

Upon realizing you were staring right back at him, he quickly averted his eyes, finally breaking out of his stupor. “Sorry?” He cleared his throat, struggling to meet your gaze.

“Pretty?” You repeated, confused.

Gale sputtered, seemingly caught off guard before a look of mortified realization crossed his features. “Morning,” he declared abruptly. “Y-You are morning.” He paused. “I mean, it is morning.” He paused again. “I mean, It is a pretty morning,” he finally managed, eyes settling back on yours as a pale flush of pink crept up his neck, threatening to wrap around his cheeks.

You attempted to raise the back of your palm to feel his forehead, concerned, only to be intercepted by Gale as he caught your wrist and brought it back down to your lap.

“I assure you, I am perfectly well,” he took a deep breath, composing himself. “And usually better at this.” He added, pressing a customary kiss to the back of your hand. “All this and you don’t even know my name.”

“Well, actually–” you began.

“Gale Dekarios,” he vaunted, chest almost puffed, and you swear you’ve seen images of birds of paradise performing similar moves during a mating dance. Knowing he was a Viscount made the visual match far too well and you failed to stifle a chortle.

“Pleased to make your–” Gale faltered slightly at your reaction. “Did I do something?”

Struggling to pull yourself together, you shake your head breathlessly. “No, it’s nothing. It’s just, I know who you are already.”

He looked puzzled. “You do?”

Nodding, you let out a deep breath, overcoming your brief laughing fit. “My older sister is quite the socialite. She recognized you from your portrait.”

From his impressed expression, you caught yourself wondering if they would be a good match. Euphemia was always fond of the idea of marrying a Viscount, like your mother had, not to mention she was up to date on all the drama of the ton.

An unfamiliar sensation twisted in your gut, unnoticeable until you focused on it. You hadn’t had breakfast yet so it was likely just hunger. But strangely, this hunger was creeping up from your stomach, almost residing in your chest with a faint pang.

You stood up sharply, pushing down the strange feelings. “You must be hungry, my Lord.”

Gale’s eyes flicked around your face, almost as if he was studying you. “I could eat,” he finally spoke. “And please, just Gale.”

Nodding quickly, you turned on your heel and briskly left your room, closing the door behind you. The twinge in your chest finally simmered, leaving your cheeks slightly flushed and blood nearly warm. You let yourself fall against your door, breathing deeply.

Suitors had come and gone before, and once he healed, Gale Dekarios would be nothing more than a man you met for a day.

#gale dekarios x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 x tav #gale dekarios x tav #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #alternate universe #bg3 #bg3 x reader #gale dekarios #wizard of waterdeep #regency #tav bg3 #gale x tav #gale romance #regency au

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ancientorigins · 1 month

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Authorities in Mexico have been thrilled to announce the remarkable recovery of three ancient pictographic documents, known as the Codices of San Andrés Tetepilco, which date back to the critical transition period between the 16th and 17th centuries. These codices, including one that acts as a continuation of the revered Pilgrimage Strip or Boturini Codex, have been successfully recovered and will now enrich the Collection of Mexican Codices at the National Library of Anthropology and History.

#Codices of San Andrés Tetepilco Recovered in Mexico

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chiefdirector · 2 months

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Playing | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

The cell was everything (Y/N) had expected.

The small six by eight foot cell was kept in meticulous condition. The bed was made without a crease in the cheap prison linen, a singular spare uniform folded precisely at the foot of the bed, and a small stack of books tucked onto the far corner of the tiny desk.

It was exactly what (Y/N) had expected from a woman like Rosalind Dyer. She craved control. She was trying to take control of (Y/N)’s life, almost as if she was a puppet master pulling every single string.

Rosalind Dyer needed control, and (Y/N) was not one to be controlled.

Rosalind did well to mostly cover the fleeting shock on her face when (Y/N) entered the cell before making a quick and smooth recovery. “Hello Detective Bradford, what a nice surprise.”

“Let’s skip the formality Dyer.” (Y/N) said, keeping her tone cool.

“If you insist.” Rosalind gestured for (Y/N) to sit down next to her on the bed, smiling as the detective refused. “What brings you to my neck of the woods then? I don’t suppose it’s a social call?”

“Even if I wanted to, you’re not the type to have friends… or to be able to keep them anyways.”

“Snarky. I like that; but it won’t get you very far. So I’ll ask again, Detective. Why are you here? Because I’m quite sure that pretty husband of yours wouldn’t approve.”

“What he doesn’t know…” (Y/N) let her words drift off as she walked into the room, peering around, trying to find any form of imperfection. A crack in Rosalind’s armour. “I’ve come to ask you something.

Rosalind nodded. “Ask away. Although you may not like the answer.”

It was (Y/N)’s turn to smile as she could see Rosalind starting her infamous mind games. “Why me?”

“I’m not sure I’m following. Care to elaborate some?”

“Why me,” Bradford repeated. “Out of anyone in the department, in the LAPD as a whole, and you pick me. I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t put yourself down so much. You should think much more highly of yourself. Why wouldn’t I pick you? You’re clever, cunning even. And you would be good to ruin.”

(Y/N) chuckled at this although she didn’t find humour in the given answer at all. The two of them both knew that they had to keep a cool and calm facade, and her small laugh caused Rosalind’s to falter.

“What’s so funny, detective?”

“Nothing,” (Y/N) continued to chuckle, although her laughs had begun to soften as her words grew more taunting. “I just thought that you would have something to gain. I mean you’re the great Rosalind Dyer. You had the nation fearful for their lives, and yet the most you can do is fail to spook me. Even worse, your motivation is because I’m ‘special.’ thought you would be cleverer than that.”

“And who said I don’t?” Dyer snapped, rising from the bed, leaving behind creases from where she had sat. “I could just be having you on, playing the long game.”

“What is the long game for you?”

“Freedom.”

(Y/N) snorted this time. “Unlikely. If there was something you wanted from me, you would’ve made a play by now. I may not know you, but I know your type Rosalind.”

Rosalind’s eyes darted away at (Y/N)’s words before they focused back on the Detective. “If you know my type,” Rosalind said, moving forward, causing (Y/N) to take a step back, “then you would know I don’t lose. Now I suppose it’s time you take your leave, don’t you?”

(Y/N) nodded, as she turned towards the cell door. “Have a good day, and thank you for our chat, it’s been very…insightful.”

———-

Fishing the small phone out of her pocket, (Y/N) quickly dialled Grey’s number as she walked through the parking lot towards the nearest bus stop. She listened as the phone rang and went to voicemail.

“Grey,” she said after the tone went, “it’s Bradford. Call me. I’ve got a lead.”

Pressing the end call button, (Y/N) continued to walk until she heard a whistle from behind her. Spinning on her heel, she was greeted by Nyla, leaning on her car.

“What are you doing here?” (Y/N) said, approaching the woman.

“I would ask you the same thing, but I already know. Get in.” Harper snapped, moving round to the driver's side of the car. (Y/N) followed, slipping into the vehicle.

“Here, take my phone. Call Tim. He’s going out of his mind.” Harper pulled out of the car park. “He had half the department at your house earlier. Thankfully, I was one step ahead and covered for your ass. The last time I do so though.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me; call your husband before I rat on you.”

(Y/N) just hummed as she dialled the familiar number and lifted the phone to her ear.

——

“Okay, I love you. Bye, bye.” Tim hung up the phone, sliding it back into his trouser pocket as he walked towards Grey’s office. Knocking, he entered as the Watch Commander beckoned him in.

“Harper was right, I presume.” Grey said, looking up from his computer.

“Yeah, she was. Just got off the phone with (Y/N). They’ll be back by midday.” Tim let his words drift off, the silent worry hung heavily in the air.

Grey looked at Tim with knowing eyes, holding back any form of sympathy. Officer Bradford had never appreciated it before, and he wouldn’t start now. But Grey could only imagine how he was feeling. The Watch Commander knew all too well what it felt like to be shut out of Morgan’s inner workings, the detective was far too independent and it would be her downfall.

“What’s bothering you? Is it the trip this morning?”

“Yes-no. Maybe” Tim stuttered, taking a seat in front of the desk as Grey gestured for him to do. “It’s just that we promised no more secrets and I wake up and she’s gone. And it’s like nothing changed. She doesn’t trust me.”

“Yes she does. You know she does.” Grey reassured, spinning slightly in his chair. “(Y/N) is still on high alert. And you know her best, Tim. Put yourself in her shoes. If someone like Dyer was on the warpath for you, and Morgan was in the line of fire…”

“I would make sure she wasn’t involved. Keep her away.”

Grey shrugged as his point set in. “Look, I’m not saying that she was right. But she had Harper there. She wasn’t alone. Besides, if she had told you, or me for that matter, what would’ve happened?”

“I would’ve stopped her. Or at least gone with her.”

“Exactly. Don’t be too hard on her. That’s my job. She broke so many protocols, she’ll be doing paperwork for today into retirement.”

Tim chuckled at the thought. Thanking the Sargent, he stood and made his way out of the office and towards his boot who was waiting expectedly for him.

tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @rookietrek @hufflepuffwhore13 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4 @starstruckchopshoptyphoon @alessiamargaux @rexit-mo

Masterlist

26 | 28

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford #tim bradford imagine #the rookie #the rookie imagine #chiefdirector #bottom of the river

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scarletwritesshit · 6 months

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🌧️ Furina x Neuvillette 🌧️ Thoughts After the Rain

The image was still burned into Neuvillette’s mind.

That wretched sight of the Hydro blade descending onto Focalors, slicing her body in half and dissolving her remains into water droplets. He has dealt with his fair share of nightmarish scenes over the long years, not just recordings and accounts of crime scenes, but personally as the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. The work he took on as Chief Justice served as his relief from this strenuous mental toil. He focused his mind on the problems and solutions of the court rather allowing himself to be haunted by gruesome scenes time and again. His undertaking of extra work also lifted some of the weight off of Furina’s shoulders.

The stacks of work were doing him no good at this time. As much as he tried to suppress them, the tears would not stop flowing down his face, and his voice remained choked, rending him unable to confide in even the closest of his Melusines to relieve himself of his sealed up thoughts.

The way Focalors kept smiling at him until the bitter end, with not a single regret to be heard in her voice, ripped his heart far more than any plea of desperation could. He had a sworn duty to protect all under him - people, Melusines, even his own Archon. Where did he go wrong, he wondered? Focalors was no longer around for him to seek the answer to this question, and she left behind deceptions still buried behind that final smile.

No chance that Furina would know the full truth herself. She was the prime victim of her other self’s act, and even if she did know a sliver of the truth, it was highly unlikely that she would be willing to open up now. Neuvillette had advised her to take some time to herself as her own person at long last, and measures were taken so that none of the gossip hungry people of Fontaine could spend a single moment of their time harassing her. After 500 years of suffering, he knew that a few moments for Furina to focus on nothing except herself was an important first step in her recovery.

This also meant that he would be leaving her alone for the time being. He couldn’t help but wonder if this break was as truly beneficial as he hoped it to be. Though, he was also concerned that perhaps it was his longing to see the true Archon again that made him desire to see Furina so much. As days had passed with no sign of his tears or the rain letting up, he let out a regretful sigh thinking that perhaps, disturbing the solitude of Furina would be in the best interest of them both, as well as Fontaine’s weather. If Furina were to obejct to him in any way, Neuvillette hoped that she was still not afraid to make her voice be heard.

He came to her place empty handed, as he did not wish to communicate any intent of bribery. Rather, he simply wished to talk with her; even a single word from her would make him feel better about her condition.

Standing in front of her door, Neuvillette took a deep breath, attempting to relax himself and clear his mind. Though, he was still haunted by worst case scenario. He didn’t want to think about the very real possibility that Furina, too, could’ve fallen victim to the execution in a slightly different manner.

Just something, he thought, Anything to give me a slither of hope.

The more he stood there in silence thinking, the more the rain began to pick up. It was better that he gets things over with and knock, rather than let the entire nation flood once more…

He politely knocked on the door with the back of his hand. There was no audible response coming from the inside, which sent a wave of anxiety through Neuvillette. He told himself that there was no need for worry quite yet, and to give her a few minutes before he would knock again. Just before he was about to tap on the door once more, it cracked open, and Furina peered her eyes through the small opening. She looked up and down, scanning the man that stood before her, and allowed Neuvillette to enter once she gained a small amount of confidence.

Her place was drearily lit, with the only trace of illumination being what little sun managed to peer through the window. Neuvillette was relieved to see her alive and still fighting, but he still wanted to break the silence between the two of them, somehow. He couldn’t find any words in him to begin a conversation, not even enough for a simple greeting, as he wasn’t sure what was appropriate to say given the recent happenings. Neuvillette was filled with guilt that he could’ve done something to prevent all of this. Something to save those in Poisson, something to save Focalors, something to free Furina...

Furina sat at her window and looked out at the rain falling down.

"It’s been raining for a while, hasn’t it?" she said, watching the rain with a saddened expression.

"Ah...my sincere apologies," Neuvillette said, wiping the tears that he has been doing a poor job of suppressing.

"Don’t beat yourself up over it. Believe me, its fine. I hardly have a reason or even a will to step outside anyways."

"But Lady Furina-"

"Just Furina. I hold that title no more, Neuvillette."

"Out of my utmost respect for you, it does not feel right to refer to you so...casually."

"Neuv," Furina said, sliding around to face him, "Its fine. I don’t even deserve to be referred to with a name, as I couldn’t save my own nation from a crisis that I had 500 years to prepare for."

"How were you supposed to? You were expected to play the role of god as a mortal, nothing realistically could have been done by you in your situation. If anything, I am the one who should be shamed for their negligence."

"You didn’t know. You shouldn’t blame yourself," Furina said with a sigh.

"It is my duty to know when something is amiss. I have failed both you and my people," he said, averting his gaze.

"You…didn’t fail any of us. In fact, I feel like you’ve done too much for a failure like me. I always worried that you were going to leave me one day due to my incompetence, yet you never did, and for that, I’m...eternally grateful, to say the least."

"Well, I couldn’t leave you. Fontaine would be doomed to crumble in a matter of years if so."

"I probably would’ve crumbled within years."

"Which is why I was so afraid, personally. Losing the nation meant losing a dear friend of mine, yet in a way, I still feel as if I had lost part of her."

Neuvillette could no longer bare to look Furina in the eyes.

"I’m still here Neuv, even if that part of me is gone" Furina said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "And. you still have Fontaine in relatively good shape."

"Perhaps, but it was not without its losses. Those whose lives I failed to save.”

"You mean...those I have failed to save," she said, her hand sliding off of his arm.

The rain picked up again, and Furina was quick to notice the weeping Hydro Dragon struggling to even look at her. She couldn’t even lift her own spirits, but despite this, she felt as if maybe, just maybe, she could bring a little bit of relief to Neuvillette.

She could not stand seeing Fontaine drenched in rain. Not after all of the times she could’ve saved Neuvillette the trouble if she was actually worthy of being a god.

"Neuvillette...please don’t cry. Focalors had all of us ensnared in her performance," she said, attempting to reassure him.

Neuvillette was rather unresponsive to her effort, and it hurt Furina deeply to see him like this. She slid closer to the edge of the seat, closer to where he was standing, and wrapped what she could of her tiny body around Neuvillette. He looked down at the former "Archon" embracing him, feeling the hesitation in her body as she attempts to not overwhelm him with her sudden gesture of affection.

"If it weren’t for you," she said, now holding back her tears, "I don’t even know if I would still be around."

"Furina..."

"Please believe me when I say that I don’t fault you for anything of what has happened. I don’t like seeing you like this at all."

Years of suffering, and Furina was still so quick to forgive him? He couldn’t seem to believe it, but her words and her touch felt so genuine. And with the strings of Focalors finally severed, this was no act with the intent of putting on a show, either.

She wiped a tear from his eye, forcing herself to smile through her own pain, this time for the sake of Neuvillette and not a façade long held.

"Neuv, you’ve meant a lot to me all these years, and I want you to remain by my side as I live out the rest of my life as a human."

"That...is agreeable. In fact, I would be most delighted to be called your most trusted partner."

"More than just that," Furina said, relaxing into him. “And you can drop the formalities with me, too.”

Neuvillette, preferring to uphold his formal tone, decided that, perhaps just this once, he could allow himself a truly honest word with Furina.

“Is that so? I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I told you that…I love you?”

“No, not at all,” she said, no longer holding back her grip on his body.

As he gently stroked Furina’s back, Neuvillette glanced to his side out the window. He had noticed that for the first time in days, the rain had come to a complete halt.

#genshin impact #fanfic #fanfiction #furina #focalors #neuvillette #neuvifuri #focalette #genshin impact fanfic

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tomorrowusa · 3 months

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Right now is the time to get involved in the defeat of America's most dangerous enemy since the Cold War.

The traditional election season, starting on Labor Day, is a thing of the distant political past. And considering the magnitude of the threat to democracy, even waiting for the end of the primary season may be too late.

The worst president in our history is, arguably, stronger within the leadership ranks of the Republican Party than he has ever been. He is now the most dangerous presidential candidate in U.S. history. As a consequence, the great question before the rest of us is whether enough of us are ready to do whatever is necessary to defeat this threat as we have all those that have come before. Sadly, there is reason to believe that this time we may not meet the challenge. Right now, Donald Trump is one of two people who could be our next president. The race, at the moment, between him and President Joe Biden, is too close to call.

The people with their heads up their ass over Biden's age are either hypocrites or dissemblers. On Inauguration Day 2025, Donald Trump will be 95.66% of Joe Biden's age. And Trump will also be older in January of 2025 than Biden was upon assuming office in 2021. Biden may have a lifelong stutter but he is still grounded in reality in a way the narcissistic nepo baby Donald Trump never was.

Joe Biden by any objective metric has been one of the most successful presidents in modern U.S. history. He has led the creation of more major legislative initiatives benefiting the American people than any president in 60 years. He oversaw the creation of more than 14 million jobs during his first three years in office. He has brought down inflation and reduced the prices of vital medicines to affordable levels. He has restored American leadership worldwide, expanded our vital alliances like NATO, and stood up to our enemies. All presidents face challenges and make missteps. But it is hard to deny that in the wake of the U.S. economic recovery, the passage of the American Rescue Plan, the Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill, the CHIPs and Science Act, and the Inflation Reduction Act, the expansion of NATO, and the creation of new Indo-Pacific alliances, Biden’s record is formidable. That a president with this record is in a horse race with a candidate who is a menace to the country, who led an insurrection, who is a pathological liar whom courts have found to be a fraud and a rapist, and who has no real ideas, no credible policy proposals, no record of actually ever achieving anything for the American people is chilling.

In normal times, over 40% of US voters would NOT pick a notorious sex offender for president. But these are not normal times.

You would have thought that the sight of mobs carrying Trump flags and weapons and chanting for the death of Vice President Mike Pence on January 6, 2021, would have been alarm enough. You would have thought the same of Trump’s Access Hollywood tape, in which he confessed his impulse to abuse women. You would have thought the two dozen women who accused him of abuse would have had that effect. Even if none of those things were quite warning enough, you would have thought the findings in the E. Jean Carroll case would have been enough. After all, respected federal judge Lew Kaplan wrote, “The fact that Mr. Trump sexually abused—indeed, raped—Ms. Carroll has been conclusively established and is binding in this case.” It should have been enough. But so far, it has not been.

And who would have thought that the party of Ronald Reagan is now led by a stooge of the Evil Empire?

You would have thought that Trump reaching out on national television to our Russian adversaries for aid during the 2016 campaign would have been enough. You would have thought the conclusive findings of every major U.S. intelligence agency that Russia sought to aid Trump’s campaign would have been enough. You would have thought that Robert Mueller’s finding 10 instances of possible obstruction of justice by Trump would have been enough. You would have thought Trump kowtowing to Vladimir Putin and taking his word over that of our intelligence and law enforcement communities would have been enough. You would have thought his illegally withholding aid to Ukraine to seek dirt on Joe Biden would have been enough. You would have thought his impeachment for that would have been enough.

Are you willing to spend more time and money than in previous election cycles to end a major threat to Western democracy and to undermine homegrown fascism for at least the rest of this decade?

So, ask yourself, is that enough to make you do more than you have done? Is that enough to commit for the next 10 months to do more than you have ever done during an election year? To give more? To canvas more? To spread the word more? To help get voters to the polls? To ensure every member of your family, your friends, your co-workers do the same? The stakes are too high to do less than everything you can.

I rarely quote Margaret Thatcher and would probably disagree with at least 90% of her views. But she did know something about winning elections and combating the USSR. If she was good for just one thing, it's for this observation in a speech made in her retirement.

[N]o battles are ever finally won; you have to go on winning them by example and by being prepared to defend your way of life against those who would attack it.

If we learn just one thing from the Trump threat, it's that we can never rest on our past laurels. A slacker democracy is one which will not outlast a determined demagogue.

Civic involvement by pro-democracy citizens is absolutely necessary to maintain freedom.

#democracy #threat to democracy #donald trump #democracy vs. totalitarianism #trump is a tool of russia #trump is a sex offender #if you hate freedom vote for trump #register and vote #vote blue no matter who #support democratic candidates #the biden administration's economic growth programs #civic involvement #david rothkopf #bernard l. schwartz #election 2024

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newyorkthegoldenage · 7 months

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In the 1930s, "NRA" stood for the National Recovery Administration, established by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1933 as part of his New Deal. Its goal was to allow businesses get together to write "codes of fair competition" that would help workers set minimum wages and maximum weekly hours, as well as minimum prices at which products could be sold.

That the NRA was popular with workers is shown above by the turnout for a parade in its honor on Fifth Avenue on September 13, 1933. But two years later, the Supreme Court ruled it unconstitutional, and it was disbanded. However, many of its provisions resurfaced in the National Labor Relations Act of 1935. The end result was a surge in the growth and power of unions.

Photo: Associated Press

#vintage New York #1930s #New Deal #NRA #National Recovery Administration #FDR #parade #unions #crowd #Fifth Ave.#5th Ave.#vintage NYC #employment #September 13 #13 September #13 Sept.#Sept. 13

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syngoniums · 1 year

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Text is from the Center for Biological Diversity:

For Immediate Release, February 27, 2023

Contact:

Tierra Curry, (928) 522-3681, [email protected]

Rare Milkweed Gains Endangered Species Protection, Critical Habitat

Plant Is Crucial for Migratory Monarch Butterflies in South Texas, Mexico

RIO GRANDE CITY, Texas— The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service today protected the prostrate milkweed as endangered. Only 24 populations of the plant survive, in south Texas and northern Mexico, where they serve as an important food source for pollinators like bees and imperiled monarch butterflies.

The Service also protected 661 acres of critical habitat for the plant in eight south Texas units in Zapata and Starr counties. Recent border-wall construction degraded another 20 acres of habitat that were proposed for protection last year to the point that they were unsuitable for the plant and withdrawn from designation. All populations of the milkweed in the United States are within nine miles of the border, making it one of hundreds of species threatened by wall construction.

“Protecting prostrate milkweed is a big deal for the monarch butterflies who lay their eggs on these plants as they fly through Texas after spending the winter in Mexico,” said Tierra Curry, a senior scientist at the Center for Biological Diversity. “For the sake of the milkweed and all the pollinators who rely on it, it’s a relief that this important native plant finally has the safeguards of the Endangered Species Act.”

Construction and maintenance for roads, utilities, and the oil and gas industry also destroy the prostrate milkweed, and additional border-wall construction on the Lower Rio Grande National Wildlife Refuge threatens to uproot more of them. These activities and livestock grazing foster the spread of invasive buffelgrass, which is planted as livestock forage. Buffelgrass displaces native plants and is very difficult to control.

Under natural conditions the prostrate milkweed is thought to be able to persist at low densities. It produces so much nectar that far-flying pollinating insects such as tarantula hawks and large bees are so juiced up after visiting it that they can fly farther and pollinate other relatively distant prostrate milkweed populations. But as prostrate milkweed numbers and densities have declined, the plant is also imperiled by lower reproductive success and loss of genetic diversity.

Just 24 populations of prostrate milkweed remain in Starr and Zapata counties in Texas and in Tamaulipas and eastern Nuevo León in Mexico. Nineteen of those populations are rated in low condition, the remaining five are in moderate condition and none are in high condition — indicating acute imperilment.

The Endangered Species Act has been successful in keeping more than 99% of species under its protection from going extinct. But long delays in adding animal and plant species to the endangered list have heightened the perils and made recovery more difficult and expensive. For example, the Service must decide by the end of 2024 whether to protect monarch butterflies as threatened, 10 years after a petition seeking to protect them under the Endangered Species Act was filed.

The prostrate milkweed listing comes in response to a Center lawsuit to gain final decisions on protection for 241 plant and animal species threatened with extinction, including the prostrate milkweed and more than 35 others in Texas. The prostrate milkweed was the subject of a 2007 protection petition by WildEarth Guardians.

The prostrate milkweed’s low and sprawling leaves and stem wilt during droughts. But the plant’s subterranean tuber stays alive and after soaking up moisture from occasional tropical storms sends up stalks and pink and yellow flowers.

#apocynaceae #plantblr #texas natives

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ckret2 · 1 year

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How are ford and dipper interacting with Bill. (especially after their ptsd due to how he hurt them)

So "how are they interacting with Bill OVERALL" is a big question—and one i've already touched on in a couple previous asks—so to shrink the question to manageable size, I'm gonna interpret this one more as "talk about any Bill-related trauma Ford and Dipper might have and how seeing him again impacts it."

I actually don't think either of them necessarily developed PTSD (although Ford has worse odds). Not because they didn't go through traumatic experiences thanks to Bill, but rather just because not everyone who goes through a traumatic experience develops PTSD. Some excerpts from the National Institute of Mental Health:

It is important to remember that not everyone who lives through a dangerous event develops PTSD. In fact, most people will not develop the disorder.

Many factors play a part in whether a person will develop PTSD. Risk factors make a person more likely to develop PTSD. Other factors, called resilience factors, can help reduce the risk of the disorder.

Some factors that may promote recovery after trauma include:

Seeking out support from other people, such as friends and family

Finding a support group after a traumatic event

Learning to feel good about one’s own actions in the face of danger

Having a positive coping strategy, or a way of getting through the bad event and learning from it

Being able to act and respond effectively despite feeling fear

The Pines are part of a close knit family that shared in Weirdmageddon, and 3/4 of them were puppeted, hurt, and/or manipulated by Bill and can commiserate. They also have friends in Gravity Falls they can talk to about their Bill experiences. Although Ford and Dipper are ashamed of being fooled by Bill in the past, even during the course of the show they started helping each other process that; and all four of them have reason to be proud of how they faced Weirdmageddon. They all ultimately responded to their fears by taking action. The family's in a good position to get through the aftermath with minimal lingering trauma!

The biggest potential issues are their physical isolation from their support network, and Gravity Falls' Never Mind All That Act hampering people from talking with each other; but if you assume they're still regularly talking with each other on phone or online and that people are still willing to talk in private amongst friends about Weirdmageddon, I think they can get around the majority of those issues. (Plus, realistically, the Never Mind All That Act would hamper recovery from trauma; but since it was clearly intended to be a funny cartoon joke about life going back to normal, I don't want to narratively treat it like a serious thing with serious consequences.)

(I'm also on the fence about headcanoning whether Dipper & Mabel tell their parents; Dipper spends most of summer trying to tell the nearest adult relative all about the weird stuff in Gravity Falls and Mabel immediately writes to mom & dad about the new gruncle that came out of a magic portal, I don't see why they'd stop that when they get home. Odds the parents get the kids therapy is like 90% but odds they'd let the kids go back next summer is 5% so... *makes a weighing scales gesture*)

So I think they'll get through with minimal trauma-trauma. But the scars of the incident can show on them in ways other than full-blown PTSD.

The worst of it Dipper experiences is nightmares. Sometimes about Bill, sometimes about being stuck outside his body while it sleeps below. Admittedly, nothing to sneeze at; few things are more terrifying than waking up, disoriented and in the dark, from a nightmare about a guy who can actually invade nightmares—you can spend the next half hour asking yourself "what if it was real?" But if you've got a sister in the next room to reassure you it wasn't real and a grunkle in a weird time zone you can call at 3 am to hear he's had similar dreams for thirty years and they never meant anything... eventually a half hour of fear becomes five minutes of fear and the dreams become annoying instead of terrifying.

If anything, being in the Shack with Bill helps Dipper deal with the nightmares—it's reassuring to be able to wake up from a Bill nightmare, bellow "GET OUT OF MY DREAMS YOU FREAK," and hear back from the floor below, "I'M NOT IN YOUR DREAMS, I'M WATCHING TURNER CLASSIC MOVIES WITH ABUELITA."

Even his dreams about out-of-body experiences have decreased since coming back to the shack—that's probably a sign of healing, right?

(One of the things Bill plans never to admit to the humans: he still has a sizable amount of dream-related magic, and he's started shoving Dipper's soul back in his body whenever Bill sees him astral projecting because he's sick of getting blamed for Dipper's "nightmare" when he wakes up.)

Between Dipper and Ford, Ford's the most likely to actually get PTSD—specifically because at the outset, he got the least emotional support. After he found out Bill's motives, he was trapped alone in his house for weeks, afraid that the world could end if he fell asleep, until the point that he was hallucinating Bill in other people's eyes—if it was a hallucination.

That extreme sleep deprivation, that paranoia, that terror, and most of all that isolation from any support—THAT sure could trigger PTSD.

But Ford's had thirty years to process that, all while traveling through a multiverse full of people like "oh, THAT Bill Cipher? Oh yeah we totally sympathize, that's the exact kind of thing that guy would do." Getting dumped into the multiverse probably gave him a better shot of healthily processing the experience than he could have had on Earth. (Note that he's not checking people's eyeballs when he gets home from the multiverse.)

On the other hand, I do believe he's got some noteworthy trauma from thirty years in the multiverse, but never mind that! (You could arguably call that "caused" by Bill—but I don't think interacting with Bill conjures up memories of traumatic multiversal travels for Ford. He didn't see Bill during those 30 years. His mind sorts them in different boxes.)

The biggest negative psychological impact Bill left on Ford is trust issues. When he first returned to Gravity Falls, that was more global—TRUST NO ONE. Those trust issues have shrunk a lot—now it's just "don't trust Bill." Bill could tell Ford the sky is blue, and he'd have to go look to make sure Bill isn't trying to keep Ford from finding out that the sky's turned pink.

Upside: this makes it almost impossible for Bill to mess with Ford's head. Ford is all but mess-proof. Everything Bill says carries zero weight with him. Downside: this makes it almost impossible for them to carry on a conversation.

(Bill's the only one who considers this a downside. He's looking for a way to twist Ford into regretting not listening to Bill. Maybe the next time the kids are in trouble, he'll go tell Ford first, and then he can feel all self-righteous when Ford feels all guilty about brushing Bill off and not helping the kids.)

#grunkle ford #dipper pines #bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #fanart #my art #about my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(I think tumblr deleted my second illustration?? Somehow??? So i edited it back in)#(If there's somehow TWO of it now: blame tumblr)

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kdero · 11 months

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After last summer's Supreme Court ruling in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization allowed states to ban abortion, urologists across the United States saw a dramatic surge in the demand for vasectomies.

Normally, vasectomy procedures peak towards the end of the year, but the mid-year Court decision led to an unexpected increase in demand in 46 states.

The greatest increases in patients undergoing this elective procedure were in states that implemented "trigger bans" severely limiting abortion access. These states experienced an average increase of 41% in vasectomy rates between July and September, compared to 26% in other states. States such as Arizona, Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, Texas, and Utah saw rates rise by more than 40%.

The post-Dobbs patients opting for vasectomies tended to be younger than the typical candidates. Data from Komodo revealed a small but consistent drop in the average age of patients undergoing vasectomies in the latter half of 2022.

Motivations behind this trend varied among patients. Some men expressed concerns about the lack of a reliable backup if their primary contraception method failed in the absence of abortion access, as vasectomy has a success rate of over 99%. Others were motivated by the fear that vasectomy itself could be outlawed next. Among this younger demographic of patients seeking to take control of their reproductive responsibilities were men who saw their decision as an act of solidarity with women.

Due to longstanding patriarchal constructs, vasectomy is viewed as a sacrifice for many men, involving recovery time and potential risks, along with misconceptions and concerns about its impact on masculinity. In reality, recovery time for this simple 30-minute outpatient procedure is 2-3 days, and there is no clinical evidence to support the notion that a vasectomy leads to a decreased sense of masculinity. The procedure does not have any direct physiological or hormonal effects on masculinity, sexual function, or masculinity-related characteristics.

In fact, by opting for vasectomy, men share the responsibility of contraception and alleviate the burden on women. By doing so, these men further embody the traditionally masculine traits of responsibility, self-reliance, decisiveness, and courage through taking an active role in family planning.

While the overturning of Roe v Wade has decimated women's rights in America, the increase in vasectomies following the ruling may be seen as a small consolation, a small step toward the long aggrieved concept of gender equity. As more men take proactive measures to dismantle the patriarchal idea that both conception and contraception are solely "women's issues," they act as leaders showing others the intrinsic value in the dignity and selflessness of their decision.

While our nation's leaders continue to restrict the rights afforded to pregnancy carriers, we are fortunate to have a younger generation of the impregnator class recognizing the devastating, often deadly effects of these laws and mastering the art of doing something about it.

For more information on vasectomies and providers in your area, visit plannedparenthood.org

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phoenixyfriend · 2 months

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Hello! I was stalking your blog and saw your tags re: you cannot see an end to the occupation without causing large scale anti-semetism. So i wanted to send you this link. Additionally, i dont think opposing the israelis are in and of itself an act of anti-semetism as they're not being opposed bc of their religion but the fact that they, almost entirely as a nation save a meager handful, are disconcertingly hateful and murderous towards arabs and Palestinians. It is fact that they've created an ethnostate and use their religion as a shield to justify their wrongs.

I wrote this on the train to work so it's not as clean as it could be. Bear with me.

I think we're talking about two different issues. Your concern is the fault and the philosophy of the existence of Israel. My topic in those tags was the logistical follow-through and possible anticipated consequences.

Whether or not Israel should have tied their state to the Jewish religion is a different question. The fact of the matter is that they HAVE, and that many people see them as equivalent to each other.

For the purposes of this post, I am going to work on the premise that Israel must be dismantled. I have mixed feelings on the topic (see the below considerations), but for the rest of the post, let's assume it IS happening and we're just discussing how.

If the government at fault is violently and militarily opposed to being dismantled, then the dismantling has to come from outside, by foreign powers.

The nearest neighbors are differing levels of friendly, with some being of almost normalized relations, like Egypt or Saudi Arabia, but also include Yemen (admittedly not THAT close) and Lebanon, which have the Houthis and Hezbollah, and the former has "a curse upon the Jews" in their slogan.

"Allah is the Greatest, Death to America, Death to Israel, A Curse Upon the Jews, Victory to Islam"

So whatever your personal take on the philosophy of Israel's existence, propaganda, and choice to define itself by Judaism is, the fact that there are multiple countries in the region that are run by or at least sympathetic to groups of this opinion cannot be discounted when talking abut things like disarmament.

There is only one Jew in Yemen, a guy imprisoned for trying to smuggle out a Torah.

Syria and Lebanon, which are much closer to Israel physically, have less than 100 between them. It is vanishingly unlikely that the once-thriving communities chose to leave en masse. Many were probably enticed by the supposed safety and freedom of Israel, yes, but a near total exodus? Unlikely without domestic discrimination against Jews.

So that is what I am thinking of when I talk about nearby antisemitism.

Forcibly de-arming Israel leaves them open to the antisemitism of their neighbors UNLESS an outside power is there to manage the transition, and people who dislike Israel are generally vocally opposed to that kind of international interference.

Unfortunately, it currently looks like the only way to dismantle Israel's institution of violence is either an international oversight of the kind enforced on post-war Germany as it transitioned to a more peaceful nation, or to try to do it naturally and slowly like in South Africa.

But South Africa still has extreme economic inequality between the races. Speaking as an American, it's been 160 years since slavery ended and black people are STILL suffering here, so a slow and natural process where the Israeli government is "convinced" to stop being discriminatory seems unlikely. There are anti-apartheid activists in Israel! There are plenty of pro-Palestine Jewish organizations in other countries! But they are not enough to take apart Israel in a peaceful and stable manner with a speed that would help Palestinians recovery in any reasonable timeframe.

Which brings us back to either violent overthrow or foreign interference by UN forces, meaning yet more western military posts in the middle east, because a disarmed Israel is one that is open to the vocally antisemitic and anti-Israel groups just across their North/East borders.

I guess MAYBE Saudi Arabia could be the oversight force, but I don't think an absolute monarchy is the best choice for overseeing the complete restructuring of a democratic state.

As for the link you sent... 75% of Israelis were born in Israel. Half of the population is either Mizrahi Jews escaping persecution from nearby states (again: Yemen, Syria, and Lebanon could not have gotten their Jewish populations that low without systemic discrimination) that were happy to see them go, or their descendants. The rest are mostly jews who escaped antisemitism in Europe or their descendants. (Also, Ethiopian jews, but given that Israel discriminates against THEM, they're a bit too complicated to discuss in this already complicated post.)

And of course there's the Jews who were already living there... and the question of those who were kicked out centuries or even millenia ago by Romans or the Islamic caliphates or the Ottoman empire or what have you.

(I'll note here that I have a large bias against Ottoman Empire things and am trying to be conscious of that.)

None of this JUSTIFIES their actions. But the whole Settlers thing, at least for the main body of Israel, is really complicated by the fact that Israel's history, and the fact that the Jewish people HAVE been there in some capacity for thousands of years, is complicated. He mentions the decolonization of Algeria and French people leaving but... French people had France. They could go back to France.

Israel is the homeland. The whole reason Jewish people wanted it was because their thousands of years of history were there. Their holiest site (temple mount) was there. They'd just been driven from it over and over again.

It does not, by any means, justify their actions against Palestine. It DOES, however, mean that the whole "jews should have stayed where they were instead of coming here" argument is... flawed. They should NOT have taken that land, no, should NOT have kicked out Palestinians, but at that point we also get into whatever the hell Britain was doing.

West Bank settlers are a different issue. That should not be happening. That is in fact colonization. Go back to your own side of the border. Etc.

My thoughts on the situating keep changing as I learn, but I'm really hesitant to get on board with any particularly black-and-white generalizations.

#current events #political philosophy #Israel #Palestine #colonization #Phoenix answers asks #Phoenix Politics

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