#Systematic Data Analysis

[enterprise-cloud-services]

Uncover AI Solutions For Sustainable Energy. See How AI Enhances Renewable Resource Use, Lowers Carbon Emissions, And Promotes Global Sustainability.

[fromchaostocosmos]

Why Are Goyim Obsessed With Bad People Being The Fault of The Jews?

How many times have we seen the speculation that certain truly horrific historical people must Jewish based the stringing of threads. Or the that said horrific people are horrific because of the Jews.

How many times have seen Hitler was actually a Jew conspiracy or that Hitler only became the way he did because he denied entry to art school by Jews conspiracy?

Not just with historical figures we all have seen how often it gets mentioned that Roy Cohen, Jew, and they sure do make a point to highlight that Jew part was behind Donald Trump being who he is.

Think about Henry Kissinger and how much him Jewish gets highlighted when talking his influence on Presidents Ford and Nixon, even though he hated being Jewish.

And of course we can not forget the all time go to Christopher Columbus as the secret Jew.

And now that is being reported to be in fact true. Just look at how everyone is reporting it.

Only that is not the case.

The documentary Columbus DNA. His True Origin, broadcast on Spain’s National Holiday suggests that the explorer was not Genoese and Christian but Spanish and Jewish. The absolute protagonist of the documentary, forensic scientist José Antonio Lorente, has not yet published any scientific study to back his claims. The documentary is presented in the style of a reality show in which Lorente systematically discounts other theories, including that Columbus was Castilian, Portuguese, Galician, Mallorcan or a Cagot. It culminates with a scene in which only one possibility remains, the one put forward by architect Francesc Albardaner, author of the book La catalanitat de Colom (or, The Catalonian Origins of Columbus).

But geneticist Antonio Alonso, former chief of the National Institute of Toxicology and Forensic Sciences, is not convinced: “Unfortunately, from the scientific point of view, no assessment can be made after watching the documentary, since it does not provide any data on what has been analyzed. My conclusion is that the documentary Columbus DNA does not show the DNA of Columbus at any given moment and scientists do not know what analysis has been undertaken.”

Forensic anthropologist Miguel Botella, also from the University of Granada, remembers that day in 2003 when he waited for the box containing the supposed bones of Christopher Columbus to be opened. “Everyone expected to be greeted by an intact Columbus, but there were only 150 grams of bone fragments,” he says with a smile. The largest would have been about four centimeters in length.

Lorente then said that he was going to analyze the DNA of the three alleged members of the Columbus family with the help of prestigious geneticists, such as Ángel Carracedo from the University of Santiago de Compostela; and Mark Stoneking, from the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology, in Leipzig, Germany, one of the world’s most prestigious centers for the analysis of ancient DNA. Carracedo recalls that the DNA that reached him was tremendously degraded, and he too distanced himself from the project. Moreover, he refuses to comment on Lorente’s new results until there is a serious scientific study published in a specialized journal. The response of the Max Planck Institute geneticist to questions from EL PAÍS were similar: “I am sorry, my group stopped working on this in 2005 and I have not heard anything about the most recent results,” said Stoneking.

According to geneticist Antonio Alonso, “It is not the done thing for data that the scientific community has not yet endorsed to be presented to society, as it puts the data itself at risk as well as the proposed theory.” Alonso is also surprised by the absence of experts from the U.S. and Australia in the film whose contribution Lorente describes as essential. “Here there is too much protagonism from only one scientist. Neither the Granada team nor the collaborating ancient DNA laboratories in California and Adelaide, which are said to be of great importance in the success of the analyses, appear in the film,” he points out. Recently retired, Alonso is one of Spain’s leading experts in forensic genetics. He worked on the identification of the victims of Madrid’s 11-M terror attacks; on the investigation of dozens of reports of alleged baby thefts; on the recognition of Spanish Civil War victims and even on the attempts to find the remains of the writer Miguel de Cervantes. He claims that the documentary Columbus DNA does not speak to him as a scientist. “We do not know which DNA regions were analyzed, nor the technology used in the analysis, nor the results obtained, which makes it impossible to make a correct assessment of the findings,” he says.

Alonso explains that there are clusters of genetic variants called haplotypes or haplogroups that tend to be inherited together and may be characteristic of certain family lineages, but he adds that they often coincide with those of other groups in historically Jewish or non-Jewish populations. “In any case, having a genealogy, a haplogroup or a haplotype of Jewish or Sephardic ancestry does not call into question Columbus’ birthplace in Genoa as stated by historical sources, nor does it tell us anything about the religious beliefs professed by the generations of relatives close to Columbus,” he says.

Rodrigo Barquera is a Mexican expert in archeogenetics at the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology. Barquera has conducted DNA studies of human remains prior to the arrival of Europeans in America, such as those of children sacrificed by the Maya at Chichén-Itzá in Mexico. The researcher is very critical of the fact the data have been presented via a documentary, and without the backing of a serious scientific article reviewed by independent experts, especially given the enormous interest in the figure of Christopher Columbus and his origins. “Normally, the article is sent to a scientific journal,” he says. “The journal assigns an editor and at least three independent reviewers who rate the paper and decide if it is scientifically valid. If it is, it is published, and then the rest of the scientific community can say whether they agree or not. Putting it on a screen, removed from this process and with all the media focus on it, makes it difficult for the scientific community to say anything about it.”

Antonio Salas heads the Population Genetics in Biomedicine team at Santiago de Compostela’s Health Investigation Institute. “The documentary promised to focus on DNA analysis, as suggested by its title Columbus DNA: His True Origins,” he says. “However, the genetic information it offers is very limited. Only at the end is it mentioned that the only thing that was recovered from the presumed remains of Christopher Columbus was a partial profile of the Y chromosome. The problem is that the Y chromosome represents only a tiny fraction of our DNA and our ancestry.” “The documentary rushes to a conclusion that Christopher Columbus was a Sephardic Jew originally from the Spanish Levant. This hypothesis is, to say the least, surprising: there is no Y chromosome that can be uniquely defined as Sephardic-Jewish,” argues Salas. “Even if all of an individual’s DNA were recovered, it would still be impossible to reach definitive conclusions about his or her exact geographic origin.

So when science seems to much more aligned with Columbus not being why then is everyone reporting him as Jewish. And why do goyim keep blaming every evil deed, every action, every evil choice and every evil person on Jews?

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

Not covid specific, but good to remember: Masking and other airborne disease prevention keeps you from getting other diseases like the flu too. Covid's not the only threat to your long-term health out there.

By Felicity Nelson

A study of around 500,000 medical records suggested that severe viral infections like encephalitis and pneumonia increase the risk of neurodegenerative diseases like Parkinson's and Alzheimer's.

Researchers found 22 connections between viral infections and neurodegenerative conditions in the study of around 450,000 people.

People treated for a type of inflammation of the brain called viral encephalitis were 31 times more likely to develop Alzheimer's disease. (For every 406 viral encephalitis cases, 24 went on to develop Alzheimer's disease – around 6 percent.)

Those who were hospitalized with pneumonia after catching the flu seemed to be more susceptible to Alzheimer's disease, dementia, Parkinson's disease, and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS).

Intestinal infections and meningitis (both often caused by a virus), as well as the varicella-zoster virus, which causes shingles, were also implicated in the development of several neurodegenerative diseases.

The impact of viral infections on the brain persisted for up to 15 years in some cases. And there were no instances where exposure to viruses was protective.

Around 80 percent of the viruses implicated in brain diseases were considered 'neurotrophic', which means they could cross the blood-brain barrier.

"Strikingly, vaccines are currently available for some of these viruses, including influenza, shingles (varicella-zoster), and pneumonia," the researchers wrote in their paper published last year.

"Although vaccines do not prevent all cases of illness, they are known to dramatically reduce hospitalization rates. This evidence suggests that vaccination may mitigate some risk of developing neurodegenerative disease."

In 2022, a study of more than 10 million people linked the Epstein-Barr virus with a 32-fold increased risk of multiple sclerosis.

"After reading [this] study, we realized that for years scientists had been searching – one-by-one – for links between an individual neurodegenerative disorder and a specific virus," said senior author Michael Nalls, a neurogeneticist at the National Institute on Aging in the US.

"That's when we decided to try a different, more data science-based approach," he said. "By using medical records, we were able to systematically search for all possible links in one shot."

First, the researchers analyzed the medical records of around 35,000 Finns with six different types of neurodegenerative diseases and compared this against a group of 310,000 controls who did not have a brain disease.

This analysis yielded 45 links between viral exposure and neurodegenerative diseases, and this was narrowed down to 22 links in a subsequent analysis of 100,000 medical records from the UK Biobank.

While this retrospective observational study cannot demonstrate a causal link, it adds to the pile of research hinting at the role of viruses in Parkinson's and Alzheimer's disease.

"Neurodegenerative disorders are a collection of diseases for which there are very few effective treatments and many risk factors," said co-author Andrew Singleton, a neurogeneticist and Alzheimer's researcher and the director of the Center for Alzheimer's and Related Dementias.

"Our results support the idea that viral infections and related inflammation in the nervous system may be common – and possibly avoidable – risk factors for these types of disorders."

This study was published in Neuron.

Study link: www.cell.com/neuron/fulltext/S0896-6273(22)01147-3?_returnURL=https%3A%2F%2Flinkinghub.elsevier.com%2Fretrieve%2Fpii%2FS0896627322011473%3Fshowall%3Dtrue

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Jesse Singal

Published: Jun 27, 2024

In April Hilary Cass, a British paediatrician, published her review of gender-identity services for children and young people, commissioned by NHS England. It cast doubt on the evidence base for youth gender medicine. This prompted the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH), the leading professional organisation for the doctors and practitioners who provide services to trans people, to release a blistering rejoinder. WPATH said that its own guidelines were sturdier, in part because they were “based on far more systematic reviews”.

Systematic reviews should evaluate the evidence for a given medical question in a careful, rigorous manner. Such efforts are particularly important at the moment, given the feverish state of the American debate on youth gender medicine, which is soon to culminate in a Supreme Court case challenging a ban in Tennessee. The case turns, in part, on questions of evidence and expert authority.

Court documents recently released as part of the discovery process in a case involving youth gender medicine in Alabama reveal that WPATH's claim was built on shaky foundations. The documents show that the organisation’s leaders interfered with the production of systematic reviews that it had commissioned from the Johns Hopkins University Evidence-Based Practice Centre (EPC) in 2018.

From early on in the contract negotiations, WPATH expressed a desire to control the results of the Hopkins team’s work. In December 2017, for example, Donna Kelly, an executive director at PATH, told Karen Robinson, the EPC's director, that the WPATH board felt the EPC researchers “cannot publish their findings independently”. A couple of weeks later, Ms Kelly emphasised that, “the [WPATH] board wants it to be clear that the data cannot be used without WPATH approval”.

Ms Robinson saw this as an attempt to exert undue influence over what was supposed to be an independent process. John Ioannidis of Stanford University, who co-authored guidelines for systematic reviews, says that if sponsors interfere or are allowed to veto results, this can lead to either biased summaries or suppression of unfavourable evidence. Ms Robinson sought to avoid such an outcome. “In general, my understanding is that the university will not sign off on a contract that allows a sponsor to stop an academic publication,” she wrote to Ms Kelly.

Months later, with the issue still apparently unresolved, Ms Robinson adopted a sterner tone. She noted in an email in March 2018 that, “Hopkins as an academic institution, and I as a faculty member therein, will not sign something that limits academic freedom in this manner,” nor “language that goes against current standards in systematic reviews and in guideline development”.

Not to reason XY

Eventually WPATH relented, and in May 2018 Ms Robinson signed a contract granting WPATH power to review and offer feedback on her team’s work, but not to meddle in any substantive way. After WPATH leaders saw two manuscripts submitted for review in July 2020, however, the parties’ disagreements flared up again. In August the WPATH executive committee wrote to Ms Robinson that WPATH had “many concerns” about these papers, and that it was implementing a new policy in which WPATH would have authority to influence the EPC team’s output—including the power to nip papers in the bud on the basis of their conclusions.

Ms Robinson protested that the new policy did not reflect the contract she had signed and violated basic principles of unfettered scientific inquiry she had emphasised repeatedly in her dealings with WPATH. The Hopkins team published only one paper after WPATH implemented its new policy: a 2021 meta-analysis on the effects of hormone therapy on transgender people. Among the recently released court documents is a WPATH checklist confirming that an individual from WPATH was involved “in the design, drafting of the article and final approval of [that] article”. (The article itself explicitly claims the opposite.) Now, more than six years after signing the agreement, the EPC team does not appear to have published anything else, despite having provided WPATH with the material for six systematic reviews, according to the documents.

No one at WPATH or Johns Hopkins has responded to multiple inquiries, so there are still gaps in this timeline. But an email in October 2020 from WPATH figures, including its incoming president at the time, Walter Bouman, to the working group on guidelines, made clear what sort of science WPATH did (and did not) want published. Research must be “thoroughly scrutinised and reviewed to ensure that publication does not negatively affect the provision of transgender health care in the broadest sense,” it stated. Mr Bouman and one other coauthor of that email have been named to a World Health Organisation advisory board tasked with developing best practices for transgender medicine.

Another document recently unsealed shows that Rachel Levine, a transwoman who is assistant secretary for health, succeeded in pressing WPATH to remove minimum ages for the treatment of children from its 2022 standards of care. Dr Levine’s office has not commented. Questions remain unanswered, but none of this helps WPATH’s claim to be an organisation that bases its recommendations on science. 

[ Via: https://archive.today/wJCI7 ]

--

==

So, there are 6 completed reviews sitting somewhere, that WPATH knows shows undesirable (to them) results. And they know it. And despite - or perhaps, because of - that, they wrote the insane SOC8 anyway. And then, at the behest of Rachel Levine, went back and took out the age limits, making it even more insane.

This isn't how science works, it's how a cult works.

When John Templeton Foundation commissioned a study on the efficacy of intercessory prayer, a study which unsurprisingly found that it's completely ineffective, it was forced to publish the negative results.

So, even the religious are more ethical than gender ideologues when it comes to science. This is outright scientific corruption.

[mariacallous]

In late January, a warning spread through the London-based Facebook group Are We Dating the Same Guy?—but this post wasn’t about a bad date or a cheating ex. A connected network of male-dominated Telegram groups had surfaced, sharing and circulating nonconsensual intimate images of women. Their justification? Retaliation.

On January 23, users in the AWDTSG Facebook group began warning about hidden Telegram groups. Screenshots and TikTok videos surfaced, revealing public Telegram channels where users were sharing nonconsensual intimate images. Further investigation by WIRED identified additional channels linked to the network. By scraping thousands of messages from these groups, it became possible to analyze their content and the patterns of abuse.

AWDTSG, a sprawling web of over 150 regional forums across Facebook alone, with roughly 3 million members worldwide, was designed by Paolo Sanchez in 2022 in New York as a space for women to share warnings about predatory men. But its rapid growth made it a target. Critics argue that the format allows unverified accusations to spiral. Some men have responded with at least three defamation lawsuits filed in recent years against members, administrators, and even Meta, Facebook’s parent company. Others took a different route: organized digital harassment.

Primarily using Telegram group data made available through Telemetr.io, a Telegram analytics tool, WIRED analyzed more than 3,500 messages from a Telegram group linked to a larger misogynistic revenge network. Over 24 hours, WIRED observed users systematically tracking, doxing, and degrading women from AWDTSG, circulating nonconsensual images, phone numbers, usernames, and location data.

From January 26 to 27, the chats became a breeding ground for misogynistic, racist, sexual digital abuse of women, with women of color bearing the brunt of the targeted harassment and abuse. Thousands of users encouraged each other to share nonconsensual intimate images, often referred to as “revenge porn,” and requested and circulated women’s phone numbers, usernames, locations, and other personal identifiers.

As women from AWDTSG began infiltrating the Telegram group, at least one user grew suspicious: “These lot just tryna get back at us for exposing them.”

When women on Facebook tried to alert others of the risk of doxing and leaks of their intimate content, AWDTSG moderators removed their posts. (The group’s moderators did not respond to multiple requests for comment.) Meanwhile, men who had previously coordinated through their own Facebook groups like “Are We Dating the Same Girl” shifted their operations in late January to Telegram's more permissive environment. Their message was clear: If they can do it, so can we.

"In the eyes of some of these men, this is a necessary act of defense against a kind of hostile feminism that they believe is out to ruin their lives," says Carl Miller, cofounder of the Center for the Analysis of Social Media and host of the podcast Kill List.

The dozen Telegram groups that WIRED has identified are part of a broader digital ecosystem often referred to as the manosphere, an online network of forums, influencers, and communities that perpetuate misogynistic ideologies.

“Highly isolated online spaces start reinforcing their own worldviews, pulling further and further from the mainstream, and in doing so, legitimizing things that would be unthinkable offline,” Miller says. “Eventually, what was once unthinkable becomes the norm.”

This cycle of reinforcement plays out across multiple platforms. Facebook forums act as the first point of contact, TikTok amplifies the rhetoric in publicly available videos, and Telegram is used to enable illicit activity. The result? A self-sustaining network of harassment that thrives on digital anonymity.

TikTok amplified discussions around the Telegram groups. WIRED reviewed 12 videos in which creators, of all genders, discussed, joked about, or berated the Telegram groups. In the comments section of these videos, users shared invitation links to public and private groups and some public channels on Telegram, making them accessible to a wider audience. While TikTok was not the primary platform for harassment, discussions about the Telegram groups spread there, and in some cases users explicitly acknowledged their illegality.

TikTok tells WIRED that its Community Guidelines prohibit image-based sexual abuse, sexual harassment, and nonconsensual sexual acts, and that violations result in removals and possible account bans. They also stated that TikTok removes links directing people to content that violates its policies and that it continues to invest in Trust and Safety operations.

Intentionally or not, the algorithms powering social media platforms like Facebook can amplify misogynistic content. Hate-driven engagement fuels growth, pulling new users into these communities through viral trends, suggested content, and comment-section recruitment.

As people caught notice on Facebook and TikTok and started reporting the Telegram groups, they didn’t disappear—they simply rebranded. Reactionary groups quickly emerged, signaling that members knew they were being watched but had no intention of stopping. Inside, messages revealed a clear awareness of the risks: Users knew they were breaking the law. They just didn’t care, according to chat logs reviewed by WIRED. To absolve themselves, one user wrote, “I do not condone im [simply] here to regulate rules,” while another shared a link to a statement that said: “I am here for only entertainment purposes only and I don’t support any illegal activities.”

Meta did not respond to a request for comment.

Messages from the Telegram group WIRED analyzed show that some chats became hyper-localized, dividing London into four regions to make harassment even more targeted. Members casually sought access to other city-based groups: “Who’s got brum link?” and “Manny link tho?”—British slang referring to Birmingham and Manchester. They weren’t just looking for gossip. “Any info from west?” one user asked, while another requested, “What’s her @?”— hunting for a woman’s social media handle, a first step to tracking her online activity.

The chat logs further reveal how women were discussed as commodities. “She a freak, I’ll give her that,” one user wrote. Another added, “Beautiful. Hide her from me.” Others encouraged sharing explicit material: “Sharing is caring, don’t be greedy.”

Members also bragged about sexual exploits, using coded language to reference encounters in specific locations, and spread degrading, racial abuse, predominantly targeting Black women.

Once a woman was mentioned, her privacy was permanently compromised. Users frequently shared social media handles, which led other members to contact her—soliciting intimate images or sending disparaging texts.

Anonymity can be a protective tool for women navigating online harassment. But it can also be embraced by bad actors who use the same structures to evade accountability.

"It’s ironic," Miller says. "The very privacy structures that women use to protect themselves are being turned against them."

The rise of unmoderated spaces like the abusive Telegram groups makes it nearly impossible to trace perpetrators, exposing a systemic failure in law enforcement and regulation. Without clear jurisdiction or oversight, platforms are able to sidestep accountability.

Sophie Mortimer, manager of the UK-based Revenge Porn Helpline, warned that Telegram has become one of the biggest threats to online safety. She says that the UK charity’s reports to Telegram of nonconsensual intimate image abuse are ignored. “We would consider them to be noncompliant to our requests,” she says. Telegram, however, says it received only “about 10 piece of content” from the Revenge Porn Helpline, “all of which were removed.” Mortimer did not yet respond to WIRED’s questions about the veracity of Telegram’s claims.

Despite recent updates to the UK’s Online Safety Act, legal enforcement of online abuse remains weak. An October 2024 report from the UK-based charity The Cyber Helpline shows that cybercrime victims face significant barriers in reporting abuse, and justice for online crimes is seven times less likely than for offline crimes.

"There’s still this long-standing idea that cybercrime doesn’t have real consequences," says Charlotte Hooper, head of operations of The Cyber Helpline, which helps support victims of cybercrime. "But if you look at victim studies, cybercrime is just as—if not more—psychologically damaging than physical crime."

A Telegram spokesperson tells WIRED that its moderators use “custom AI and machine learning tools” to remove content that violates the platform's rules, “including nonconsensual pornography and doxing.”

“As a result of Telegram's proactive moderation and response to reports, moderators remove millions of pieces of harmful content each day,” the spokesperson says.

Hooper says that survivors of digital harassment often change jobs, move cities, or even retreat from public life due to the trauma of being targeted online. The systemic failure to recognize these cases as serious crimes allows perpetrators to continue operating with impunity.

Yet, as these networks grow more interwoven, social media companies have failed to adequately address gaps in moderation.

Telegram, despite its estimated 950 million monthly active users worldwide, claims it’s too small to qualify as a “Very Large Online Platform” under the European Union’s Digital Service Act, allowing it to sidestep certain regulatory scrutiny. “Telegram takes its responsibilities under the DSA seriously and is in constant communication with the European Commission,” a company spokesperson said.

In the UK, several civil society groups have expressed concern about the use of large private Telegram groups, which allow up to 200,000 members. These groups exploit a loophole by operating under the guise of “private” communication to circumvent legal requirements for removing illegal content, including nonconsensual intimate images.

Without stronger regulation, online abuse will continue to evolve, adapting to new platforms and evading scrutiny.

The digital spaces meant to safeguard privacy are now incubating its most invasive violations. These networks aren’t just growing—they’re adapting, spreading across platforms, and learning how to evade accountability.

[conceptionsofconciousness]

Krittika Nakshatra "The Star of Insight"

Krittika Nakshatra, often called "The star of insight," is well-known for the unique abilities of its natives. These individuals possess a remarkable talent for breaking down complex ideas into simpler, more understandable components. This skill not only showcases their intellectual capabilities but also reflects their deep understanding of various subjects. Their innate ability to clarify intricate topics allows them to communicate effectively with others, ensuring that even the most complicated information can be grasped by a wider audience. This makes Krittika natives invaluable in academic and professional settings where clarity and comprehension are crucial.

One of the most distinctive traits of Krittika natives is their attention to detail. They have a keen eye for observing nuances that others might miss. This meticulous approach enables them to analyze problems from multiple perspectives and uncover elements that contribute to a more comprehensive understanding of the issue at hand. By applying their analytical skills, these individuals can distinguish essential components from irrelevant information, streamlining complex processes. Their ability to break down tasks into manageable steps allows them to tackle challenging projects and enhances their overall productivity.

Furthermore, Krittika natives thrive in environments that require a systematic and organized approach. Their precise and methodical nature helps them navigate intricate systems with heightened efficiency. This characteristic is particularly beneficial in fields such as research, engineering, and data analysis, where complex information is commonplace. By leveraging their skill in subdividing tasks, they can create strategic plans that lead to successful outcomes. Ultimately, the capabilities of Krittika Nakshatra individuals make them stand out in their fields, where their insights and clarity significantly contribute to collective knowledge and problem-solving efforts.

Return to Basic Stories of the 27 Nakshatras Masterpost

[blueiscoool]

Research Discovers Ancient Egyptian Mummies Smell Nice

At first whiff, it sounds repulsive: sniff the essence of an ancient corpse.

But researchers who indulged their curiosity in the name of science found that well-preserved Egyptian mummies actually smell pretty good.

“In films and books, terrible things happen to those who smell mummified bodies,” said Cecilia Bembibre, director of research at University College London’s Institute for Sustainable Heritage. “We were surprised at the pleasantness of them.”

“Woody,” “spicy” and “sweet” were the leading descriptions from what sounded more like a wine tasting than a mummy sniffing exercise. Floral notes were also detected, which could be from pine and juniper resins used in embalming.

The study published Thursday in the Journal of the American Chemical Society used both chemical analysis and a panel of human sniffers to evaluate the odors from nine mummies as old as 5,000 years that had been either in storage or on display at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo.

The researchers wanted to systematically study the smell of mummies because it has long been a subject of fascination for the public and researchers alike, said Bembibre, one of the report’s authors. Archeologists, historians, conservators and even fiction writers have devoted pages of their work to the subject — for good reason.

Scent was an important consideration in the mummification process that used oils, waxes and balms to preserve the body and its spirit for the afterlife. The practice was largely reserved for pharaohs and nobility and pleasant smells were associated with purity and deities while bad odors were signs of corruption and decay.

Without sampling the mummies themselves, which would be invasive, researchers from UCL and the University of Ljubljana in Slovenia were able to measure whether aromas were coming from the archaeological item, pesticides or other products used to conserve the remains, or from deterioration due to mold, bacteria or microorganisms.

“We were quite worried that we might find notes or hints of decaying bodies, which wasn’t the case,” said Matija Strlič, a chemistry professor at the University of Ljubljana. “We were specifically worried that there might be indications of microbial degradation, but that was not the case, which means that the environment in this museum, is actually quite good in terms of preservation.”

Using technical instruments to measure and quantify air molecules emitted from sarcophagi to determine the state of preservation without touching the mummies was like the Holy Grail, Strlič said.

“It tells us potentially what social class a mummy was from and and therefore reveals a lot of information about the mummified body that is relevant not just to conservators, but to curators and archeologists as well,” he said. “We believe that this approach is potentially of huge interest to other types of museum collections.”

Barbara Huber, a postdoctoral researcher at Max Planck Institute of Geoanthropology in Germany who was not involved in the study, said the findings provide crucial data on compounds that could preserve or degrade mummified remains. The information could be used to better protect the ancient bodies for future generations.

“However, the research also underscores a key challenge: the smells detected today are not necessarily those from the time of mummification,” Huber said. “Over thousands of years, evaporation, oxidation, and even storage conditions have significantly altered the original scent profile.”

Huber authored a study two years ago that analyzed residue from a jar that had contained mummified organs of a noblewoman to identify embalming ingredients, their origins and what they revealed about trade routes. She then worked with a perfumer to create an interpretation of the embalming scent, known as “Scent of Eternity,” for an exhibition at the Moesgaard Museum in Denmark.

Researchers of the current study hope to do something similar, using their findings to develop “smellscapes” to artificially recreate the scents they detected and enhance the experience for future museumgoers.

“Museums have been called white cubes, where you are prompted to read, to see, to approach everything from a distance with your eyes,” Bembibre said. “Observing the mummified bodies through a glass case reduces the experience because we don’t get to smell them. We don’t get to know about the mummification process in an experiential way, which is one of the ways that we understand and engage with the world.”

[typhlonectes]

Implications for Snake Evolution:

Morphology and systematics of a new fossil snake from the early Rupelian (Oligocene) White River Formation, Wyoming 

Jasmine A Croghan, Alessandro Palci, Silvio Onary, Michael S Y Lee, Michael W Caldwell

Abstract

Extinct snake taxa are recognized primarily from isolated vertebrae. A new specimen from the early Oligocene of Wyoming provides a rare opportunity to examine four nearly complete and articulated fossil snakes.

Informally assigned previously to the ‘erycine’ vertebral form taxa Ogmophis and Calamagras, a detailed comparison reveals that this fossil snake exhibits vertebral differences from both taxa and is, furthermore, a new taxon, Hibernophis breithaupti gen. et sp. nov., based on a combination of apomorphies such as absence of basal tubera, low subrectangular prootic, low parasphenoid wings obscuring the anterior opening of the Vidian canal, and foramen for the mandibular branch of the trigeminal nerve posteriorly displaced inside the adductor fossa of the compound.

Parsimony and Bayesian phylogenetic analysis of combined morphological and molecular data from a broad selection of snakes places Hibernophis breithaupti as sister taxon to all other booids, distant from both Old and New World ‘erycines’.

However, an alternative position close to New World ‘erycines’ and ungaliophiines cannot be rejected.

Read more: https://academic.oup.com/zoolinnean/advance-article-abstract/doi/10.1093/zoolinnean/zlae073/7696309

[isthiscoinsidenceorasign]

She's Theirs: By Your Side

Title: By Your Side

Summary: Nick experiences Sub-space for the first time.

Word Count:  12,310

Warnings: Sub-space, fluff, light flirting, some suggestive dirty talk. A teeny bit of praise kink if you squint.

Tags: fluff

Author Notes: Hey y'all! Here's chapter nine. This chapter I feel is more emotional than some of the others. But I feel like it really moves the story along and further solidifies Nick, Jake, and Bradley's bond. If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters let me know. And if there's anything you'd like to see in the story don't hesitate to tell me. Maybe I'll be able to put it in!

Nick stared at the flight simulator data scrolling across her screen, the numbers blurring together like runway lights through fog. Last night with Jake and Bradley had been... transcendent. The way they all connected on a more deeper and romantic level.The way they made her feel so loved, so cherished, so safe. But now, sitting in her ergonomic chair at the Naval Air Systems Command facility, she felt hollowed out, a fighter jet running on fumes.

"Boss, these thrust calculations from Jones look off by at least three percent," One of her subordinates said, dropping a stack of papers on her desk.

"So fix them," she mumbled, reaching for her fourth coffee of the morning. Her hands trembled slightly, not from the caffeine but from the emotional crash that had been building since she'd woken up alone in her apartment. Jake and Bradley had needed to report early—some classified briefing they couldn't get out of. They both gave her kisses and told her to go back to sleep. She did but when she woke up her mood had only gotten worse.

“Are you okay Boss?” Her coworker asked out of concern.

"Fine, just tired," Nick replied, forcing authority into her voice. Her colleagues didn't need to know she'd spent half the night with her body tangled with two of Top Gun's finest pilots. "I'll look at the thrust data after I finish the stabilizer analysis."

She turned back to her screen, but her mind drifted to Bradley's hands, calloused yet gentle, holding her own soft ones. To Jake's mouth against her neck, whispering promises that had made her gasp and arch against him. To the way they'd taken care of her, the way they wiped her tears away when she became emotional.

Thinking back to last night and how vulnerable she became brought tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them away yet they still threatened to fall. Something had to be done to get her emotions in check.

Nick hastily dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve, grateful that most of her team was focused on their own work in front of them. The vast room hummed with the sound of dozens of engineers working, the tap of keyboards, machines running, and low murmurs of technical discussion creating a white noise that usually soothed her. Today, it felt like static against her raw nerves.

She glanced at her phone, sitting face-down beside her keyboard. The device seemed to pulse with an energy of its own, a tether to the two men who had systematically dismantled her carefully constructed walls. Nick had always prided herself on her compartmentalization skills—it was what made her such an effective engineer. Emotion in one box, intellect in another, never the twain shall meet. But last night, those boxes had been thrown open, their contents scattered like clothes across her bedroom floor.

She knew they agreed to keep a healthy distance from each other on the base, as to not draw suspicion. But right now all she wanted was to be near them.

Without second guessing herself she turned her phone over and pulled up there group text.

Nick: Hey what are you guys doing?

A few minutes passed before Jake and only Jake responded.

Jake: Just some paperwork Darlin’.

Nick: Can we find a place on base to meet?

Jake: Is everything okay?”

Nick stared at Jake's message, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. Was everything okay? No. She felt like she was spiraling out of control, like a jet with compromised ailerons. But how could she explain that in a text?

Nick: I just need to see you both. Please.

She set the phone down and tried to focus on the stabilizer analysis again. Numbers and equations that normally made perfect sense to her now seemed like hieroglyphics. Her phone vibrated against the desk.

Jake: Maintenance hangar 4. 15 minutes. It's empty until 1400.

Nick felt a rush of relief so intense it made her dizzy. She quickly saved her work, smoothing down her navy-blue blouse as she stood.

"I need to check something in the test bay," she announced to no one in particular, grabbing her security badge and phone. "Back in thirty."

Once she stepped into the hallway, she nearly sprinted toward the hangar. Like Jake had said—the place was deserted.

The cavernous space of Hangar 4 swallowed her footsteps as she slipped inside. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the high windows, catching dust motes in golden beams that cut across the concrete floor. The massive doors were sealed, leaving the hangar in a strange limbo—not quite dark, not fully illuminated. A perfect metaphor for how she felt.

"Nick?"

Jake’s voice came from behind a partially disassembled F/A-18. He stepped into view, flight suit unzipped to his waist, white t-shirt underneath. His brown eyes swept over her, immediately registering her distress.

"Hey," she managed, her voice smaller than she intended.

"Is everything okay?"

Nick opened her mouth, but all that came out was a strangled sob.

Jake closed the distance in swift, unthinking steps, reaching her before she could fold in on herself completely. The scent of him wrapped around her—coffee whiskey and warm vanilla, rich and grounding, like late-night conversations and steady hands on cold mornings.

"I got you," he murmured against her hair, one hand cradling the back of her head. "What happened, darlin'?"

Nick clutched his flight suit, burying her face against the solid warmth of him. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she choked out. "I can't focus, I can't think straight. I keep thinking about last night, and—" She broke off, unable to articulate the storm inside her.

"Where's Bradley?" she whispered, hating how needy she sounded but unable to stop herself.

"I don't know. Haven’t seen him since our briefing this morning. Did he not respond to the group chat?" Jake’s thumbs brushed away her tears.

"No. Can you try him? I need both of you."

Jake nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket while keeping one arm firmly around her. "I'll call him."

The ringing echoed in the empty hangar, unanswered. After several rings, it went straight to voicemail.

Jake slipped the phone back into his pocket and guided her toward a small alcove where maintenance equipment was stored. He cleared space on a workbench and lifted her onto it, positioning himself between her knees, hands steady on her waist.

"He didn’t answer," Jake said as she sniffled. "Probably in a test flight." His thumbs made soothing circles on her hips. "He'll be here as soon as he can."

Nick nodded, trying to steady her breathing. The trembling wouldn't stop. She felt pathetic, falling apart like this—over what? A night of intimacy? What kind of aerospace engineer, what kind of Maverick’s daughter, unraveled because two men had shown her tenderness?

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "This is stupid. I shouldn’t have pulled you away from work."

Jake’s eyes narrowed. "Don't. Don't apologize for needing us." His voice was firm but gentle. "Talk to me, Nick. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

She inhaled shakily. "I woke up alone and I just… spiraled. Last night was…" She struggled as more tears spilled.

Jake sighed. "Do you know what sub-drop is?"

Nick nodded.

"I’ve read about it," she admitted, wiping at her eyes. "But I didn’t think… we weren’t even doing a scene. It wasn’t like that."

Jake’s expression softened as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "From what I read, it doesn’t have to be a formal scene, darlin'. Any intense emotional or physical experience can trigger it. And last night was pretty damn intense for all of us."

Nick leaned into his touch, craving the contact like oxygen. "I’ve never felt like this before. Like I’m coming apart at the seams."

"That’s because you’ve never let yourself be this vulnerable before," Jake said, his usual cocky grin momentarily replaced by something softer. "You let us see all of you last night, Nick. Not just the brilliant engineer or Maverick’s tough-as-nails daughter. The real you."

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. She lowered her head, a sob overtaking her.

Jake pulled her closer, pressing his forehead to hers. "Hey, hey… I’ve got you."

"It’s just—" Nick’s voice cracked. "I’m not supposed to be like this. I’ve always been independent, in control. And now I can’t even make it through a morning without falling apart because you two aren’t there."

Jake’s hands came up to cradle her face, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. "You know what I think? I think you’ve been in control for so damn long, you’ve forgotten what it feels like to let go. To trust someone else to catch you."

Nick closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "It’s terrifying."

"Scarier than flying supersonic?" His voice

held a hint of teasing.

A small laugh escaped her. "Way scarier."

The hangar door creaked open, and they both froze. Nick's heart pounded against her ribs as she instinctively tried to pull away from Jake, but he held her firmly, his body shielding her from view.

"It's just me," Bradley’s deep voice called out, and Nick sagged with relief.

He appeared around the corner of the alcove, his face lined with concern. Still in his flight suit, his hair was slightly mussed, as though he’d been running his hands through it.

"I got your messages as soon as I finished my flight," he said, his eyes sweeping over Nick’s tear-stained face. "What’s wrong?"

Jake kept one arm around Nick’s waist. "Our girl’s having a rough morning."

"Sub-drop," Nick murmured, her voice small. "At least, that’s what Jake thinks is happening."

Understanding dawned on Bradley’s face.

Without hesitation, he stepped closer, settling at Nick’s other side. His hand cupped her cheek, thumb brushing away a fresh tear.

"I should’ve checked in earlier," he said, his voice rough with regret. "We shouldn’t have left you alone this morning."

Nick leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from the warmth of his palm. "It’s not your fault. You had to report. I just… I didn’t expect to feel like this."

"Like what?" Bradley asked gently.

"Empty. Shaky. Like I’m free-falling without a parachute." Her voice trembled as fresh tears welled up. "I can’t focus on work. I can’t stop thinking about last night."

Jake and Bradley exchanged a look over her head, a silent conversation passing between them.

"Come here," Bradley murmured, guiding her off the workbench and into his arms. His broad chest was solid against her cheek, anchoring her. Jake moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist just below Bradley’s. She was completely sandwiched between them.

"We’ve got you," Bradley whispered against her hair. "You’re safe with us."

Nick closed her eyes, surrendering to their hold. The emotions she’d been trying to keep at bay surged forward, spilling out in uncontrolled sobs.

Bradley’s steady heartbeat thumped against her ear, while Jake’s breath warmed the back of her neck. Neither of them rushed her or hushed her tears. They simply held her, creating a cocoon of warmth and safety in the cold, echoing hangar.

"That’s it," Jake murmured, his lips brushing her hair. "Let it all out, darlin’."

As her crying ebbed, Nick became aware of Bradley’s hand making slow circles on her back, matching her breaths. Jake’s fingers traced soothing patterns along her hip, grounding her further in their presence.

"I don't understand why this is happening," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I've had sex before. I've had relationships. Why is this happening.” She asked, still finding fault with there earlier explanation.

"It's not just sex," Bradley said softly, his voice resonating through his chest against her ear. "What happened between us last night was more than physical."

Jake’s arms tightened around her waist. "We connected on a whole different level, Nick. All three of us."

She sniffled, her breathing still uneven. "I've never… felt so much at once."

"That's why you're crashing now," Bradley said, his fingers threading gently through her hair. "Your body flooded itself with dopamine, oxytocin, adrenaline—and now those levels are dropping. Your system is trying to recalibrate."

Nick pulled back slightly, looking up at Bradley with red-rimmed eyes. "Is that the pilot talking, or did you actually research this?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "It was Jake actually. After you said you were into BDSM he did some research and passed it along to me.”

Nick blinked in surprise, turning slightly to glance at Jake over her shoulder. "You researched this? For me?"

Jake’s usual cocky smirk softened into something genuine. "Of course I did. The moment you mentioned it that first night, I wanted to know everything." His fingers traced a slow, reassuring path along her spine. "I wasn’t about to mess this up by being uninformed."

A fresh wave of emotion swelled inside her. These men—these impossibly strong, skilled pilots—had taken the time to understand what she needed before she even fully understood it herself.

"We both did," Bradley added, his deep voice rumbling against her. "Jake sent me articles about the lifestyle—sub-space, aftercare, sub-drop, all of it. We wanted to..."

"Be prepared," Nick finished for him.

He nodded. "For when you were ready."

Nick’s eyes welled up again. "That’s so sweet of you both."

"Shhh, it’s okay," Bradley murmured, pulling her closer.

Jake’s hands slid up from her waist to her shoulders, kneading gently at the tension there. "You need aftercare, darlin’. Even if we didn’t plan a formal scene, what happened between us was intense. We should’ve stayed with you longer this morning."

Nick swallowed hard, hating how right they both were, how much she needed this. "I've never let anyone see me like this before," she whispered.

"Like what?" Bradley asked, his fingers still threading through her hair.

"Weak. Needy." The words felt sharp against her throat.

Jake’s hands stilled on her shoulders. "Is that what you think this is? Weakness?"

She nodded against Bradley’s chest, unable to meet their eyes.

Bradley gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His gaze was steady, filled with concern—and something deeper.

"This isn’t weakness, Nick. This is trust." His voice was quiet but unwavering. "Do you know how much strength it takes to let someone see you like this?"

Jake moved to her side, his hand resting protectively on her lower back.

"Most people spend their lives building walls, never letting anyone in. But you trusted us enough to let us see you."

Bradley’s presence against her chest was grounding. "Trust requires more strength than independence ever will."

"He’s right, darlin’," Jake added, his breath warm against her ear. "You think we don’t need this too? That we just walked away this morning and went about our day like nothing happened?"

"You didn’t?" Nick blinked away fresh tears.

"Hell no," Jake said fiercely. "I was distracted all morning. Couldn’t focus worth a damn during the briefing."

Bradley nodded. "I nearly botched a routine landing because I couldn’t stop thinking about you—about us."

Nick searched their faces for any hint of dishonesty but found none. "Really?"

"Really," Bradley confirmed, gently brushing away a tear. "I kept checking my phone between flights, worried about you. When I saw your messages, I told the flight instructor I had a family emergency."

Jake’s lips quirked up. "Which isn’t far from the truth, if you think about it."

The word _family_ lingered between them, heavy with implication. Warmth unfurled in her chest, pushing back against the hollow feeling that had threatened to swallow her whole.

"Family," Nick echoed softly, testing the word on her tongue. It felt right, even though what they shared was so new—so undefined.

Bradley tightened his arms around her. "Well, maybe not family exactly. More like—"

"Boyfriends and girlfriend?" she asked, hopeful.

Jake and Bradley exchanged a look over her head, another silent conversation.

"Is that what you want, darlin’?" Jake asked, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. Gone was the cocky fighter pilot who strutted across the flight deck like he owned it.

Nick took a shaky breath. "I… I don’t know what this is between us. But I know I don’t want it to end."

Bradley cupped her face, his calloused thumb stroking her cheek. "Neither do we."

"So, you're both my boyfriends?"

Jake chuckled softly. "I think we’re a bit beyond conventional labels, but yeah—if that’s what you want to call it."

Bradley’s eyes softened. "Boyfriends. Partners. Whatever you want to call us, we’re yours, Nick."

The declaration settled something deep inside her, a restless part of her soul finally finding anchor. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Bradley’s chest, reaching back to grip Jake’s flight suit.

"I’ve never done this before—a relationship with two people. I don’t know the rules."

Jake caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "We’ll figure them out together. Make our own rules."

"Right now, though," Bradley said, voice gentle but firm, "we need to take care of you properly."

Nick nodded, suddenly aware of how drained she felt. The emotional storm had passed, leaving her exhausted but lighter somehow, as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. "I'd love that, but we all have work to get back to."

Jake’s thumb traced the delicate bones of her wrist. "Work can wait. You're more important."

"I can't just disappear," Nick protested weakly, though the thought of returning to her desk and facing those thrust calculations made her stomach clench. "I told them I’d be back in thirty minutes."

Bradley reached for her phone. "Text your team. Tell them you’re consulting on a mechanical issue with the F/A-18s. It’ll buy us the rest of the afternoon."

Nick hesitated, torn between duty and the undeniable need for comfort. "I shouldn’t—"

"Nick," Jake said, gentle but firm. "You wouldn’t fly a jet with compromised systems. Don’t try to function when you’re emotionally depleted."

She relented, typing out a quick message to her team lead. When she finished, Bradley took her phone and slipped it into his flight suit pocket.

"What did you have in mind?" Nick asked, her voice small but steadier than before.

Jake’s smile was warm, lacking its usual edge of cockiness. "First, we’re getting you out of here."

"And we’re going to make sure you eat something," Bradley added, his arm still protective around her shoulders. "When’s the last time you had a real meal?"

Nick realized with a start that she’d skipped breakfast, too wound up to eat. "I… had coffee?"

Jake shook his head, exchanging a concerned look with Bradley. "That settles it. Food, hydration, rest, and touch," Bradley said softly. "Physical contact helps with the drop."

"Won’t it look suspicious if all of us leave?" Nick asked.

"I already told them I had a family emergency," Bradley said. "That’ll cover me."

Jake’s hand slid to the small of her back, his touch firm but gentle. "I have to meet with your dad and Cyclone, but as soon as that’s done, I’ll be out of here."

"So how about I take you back to your place, get some food and rest into you, and Jake meets up with us later?" Bradley offered.

Nick leaned into Bradley’s solid warmth, considering his suggestion. The thought of being alone again made her chest tighten, but having Bradley with her sounded like exactly what she needed.

"Okay," she whispered, nodding against his chest. "That sounds good."

Jake stepped closer, tilting her chin up with his finger. "I’ll be there as soon as I can, darlin’. I promise." His green eyes were intense, searching her face. "Two hours, tops."

Nick nodded, feeling steadier than she had all morning. "I’ll be okay. Bradley will take care of me."

"Damn right I will," Bradley affirmed, his arm tightening around her shoulders.

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. The tenderness of it made her eyes sting with fresh tears. "No more crying," he murmured against her mouth. "I hate seeing you cry."

She sniffled and lowered her eyes. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be sorry," Bradley murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. "It’s not weakness to feel things deeply."

Jake reluctantly stepped back, his hand lingering on her arm. "I need to go before Cyclone sends out a search party, but I’ll be thinking about you both."

Nick watched as he straightened his flight suit, slipping back into his Hangman persona. But his eyes—soft when they met hers—betrayed the man beneath the callsign.

"Text me when you get to her place," Jake told Bradley.

Bradley nodded. "Will do."

Jake was about to turn away when Nick called his name. He paused as she detached herself from Bradley and rushed to wrap her arms around him.

"Thank you, Jake."

Jake closed his eyes as he held her, one hand cradling the back of her head. "Anytime, darlin’," he murmured against her hair. "That’s what boyfriends are for, right?"

The word sent a warm flutter through Nick’s chest. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, surprised to see vulnerability in his usually confident gaze. Rising onto her tiptoes, she kissed him again, pouring her gratitude into it.

When they separated, Jake’s eyes had darkened. He cleared his throat and glanced at Bradley. "Take care of our girl."

Bradley’s gaze softened, the weight of the moment settling over him. "You know I will."

With visible reluctance, Jake stepped away, his hand trailing down Nick’s arm until their fingertips parted. He gave her one last look before slipping out of the alcove, his footsteps echoing across the hangar floor.

Bradley sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Why don’t you grab your things? I’ll meet you at my car."

Nick nodded, drawing a deep breath. The emotional storm had passed, leaving her drained but somehow lighter. "Okay. Give me ten minutes."

Bradley’s hand cupped her cheek one last time. "I’ll be waiting. And Nick? It’s going to be alright."

She managed a wobbly smile before stepping back, straightening her blouse and running a hand through her disheveled hair. "I know. I know, and it’s all thanks to you and Jake."

Nick's apartment welcomed them with cool silence, the afternoon sun filtering through the partially drawn curtains. Bradley guided her inside with a steady hand at the small of her back, his presence solid and reassuring.

"Go change into something comfortable," he said, his voice low. "I'll make us something to eat."

Nick nodded, suddenly aware of how constricting her work clothes felt against her skin. She padded to her bedroom, the emotional exhaustion making her movements sluggish. After closing the door, she leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath.

Once she was out of her work clothes, she rifled through one of her drawers for something clean and soft to wear. Her fingers landed on Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt, and a small smile tugged at her lips. She had worn it after the rainstorm ruined their picnic, and the next morning, she had refused to take it off.

Nick slipped the sweatshirt over her head, inhaling the faint scent of Bradley that still clung to the fabric—a mix of clean laundry and the smoldering spice of his cologne, rich with black pepper, tobacco, and vanilla. It was sharp yet warm, unmistakably him, settling around her like an echo of his presence. The oversized garment swallowed her frame, the sleeves hanging past her fingertips. She paired it with soft sleep shorts and headed back to the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the hardwood floors.

Bradley stood at the stove, having shed his flight suit jacket, leaving him in a white T-shirt and uniform pants. The sight of him moving so effortlessly in her space sent a wave of warmth through her chest.

He turned at the sound of her approach, his eyes softening as they swept over her appearance. "Nice sweatshirt," he said, a small smile playing at his lips. "Looks better on you than it ever did on me."

Nick tugged at the hem self-consciously. "It's comfortable. And it smells like you."

Bradley's expression warmed further as he turned back to the stove. "I'm making grilled cheese and tomato soup. Nothing fancy, but it's comfort food."

Nick slid onto one of her kitchen barstools, watching his sure movements as he flipped a sandwich in the pan. There was something unexpectedly intimate about watching him here—not in the cockpit of a fighter jet, not suited up for training—but standing at her stove, completely at ease in her home.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For being there for me today."

Bradley glanced over his shoulder, eyes steady. "You never have to thank me for that."

He slid the perfectly golden sandwich onto a plate and ladled steaming soup into a bowl beside it. After placing the meal in front of her, Bradley brushed a strand of hair from her face, his calloused fingers gentle against her skin.

"Eat," he encouraged, his voice soft but firm. "Your body needs fuel, especially after an emotional drop."

Nick picked up half the sandwich, suddenly aware of the hollow ache in her stomach. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until the rich aroma of melted cheese and butter hit her senses. The first bite nearly made her moan.

Bradley moved around the kitchen with quiet efficiency, making his own sandwich and texting Jake as promised. Once his food was ready, he settled onto the barstool beside her, their knees touching.

"Better?" he asked after she'd eaten half the sandwich and several spoonfuls of soup.

Nick nodded around a bite of her sandwich. “Not one hundred percent, but definitely better.”

Bradley went to dunk his own sandwich in t

he hot soup when his phone vibrated.

Bradley checked his phone, a smile playing at his lips. "Jake’s getting ready to head into his meeting. Just wanted to see how you're doing before it starts."

"Tell him I'm okay," Nick said softly, watching Bradley’s fingers tap out a response. "Tell him I miss him."

Bradley’s smile deepened as he typed. "Already did."

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, the simple meal warming Nick from the inside out. With each bite, she felt more grounded, the shaky, hollow feeling gradually receding.

"I feel so stupid," she finally admitted, staring into her half-empty soup bowl. "Breaking down like that at work."

Bradley set down his spoon and turned to face her fully. "Nick, look at me."

She reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his.

"What happened today was a physical and emotional response to something intense and new. It wasn't weakness. It wasn't stupid." His voice was firm but gentle. "It was your body and mind processing everything that happened between us."

Nick swallowed a lump in her throat. "I just hate feeling like this. I used to get panic attacks a lot, and this felt very similar. I always felt ridiculous every time I got one."

Bradley’s expression softened, his brown eyes warming with understanding. "There’s nothing ridiculous about your body's natural responses. Panic attacks, sub-drop—they’re both physical reactions to emotional states."

He reached over, taking her hand in his. His thumb traced gentle circles against her palm, the callouses on his fingertips creating a delicious friction against her skin.

"You know what pilots learn in training?" he asked, his voice low. "That our bodies will react to stress whether we want them to or not. Fighting those responses only makes them worse."

Nick leaned into his touch. "So what do you do instead?"

"We acknowledge them. Accept them. Work with them instead of against them." Bradley’s fingers intertwined with hers. "The strongest pilots aren't the ones who never feel fear—they're the ones who feel it and fly anyway."

Something about his words resonated deep within her.

Bradley’s fingers tightened around hers. "When I get up in that cockpit, I feel afraid sometimes. So does Jake, though he’d probably rather crash than admit it."

Nick’s lips quirked up slightly. "Yeah, that sounds like him."

"The point is," Bradley continued, "we don’t overcome fear by pretending it doesn’t exist. We acknowledge it, respect it, and then make it work for us instead of against us." His thumb traced the delicate bones of her wrist. "Same goes for what you're feeling now."

Nick stared at their intertwined hands, processing his words. "So I should just... accept that I had an emotional crash?"

"Accept it. Understand it." Bradley’s voice was steady, reassuring. "And know that Jake and I are here to help you through it."

She nodded slowly, finishing the last of her soup. "That was perfect. Thank you."

He smiled. "What would you like to do now? I can run you a hot bath, set up the hot tub, or tuck you into bed with some TV."

Nick considered his suggestions, the warmth of the food in her belly making her realize just how physically and emotionally drained she truly was.

"A bath sounds amazing, but..." she hesitated, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"But?" Bradley prompted gently.

"Would you join me?" The vulnerability in her voice was unmistakable. "I don’t want to be alone right now."

Bradley’s gaze grew tender as he reached for her hand, squeezing gently instead of tucking her hair away. "Of course I will."

He stood, gathering their empty plates and placing them in the sink before leading her toward the bathroom. Nick let him guide her, watching as he moved with practiced efficiency, turning on the faucet and testing the temperature with his wrist.

"Do you have any bath salts or oils?" he asked, glancing around the ne

at bathroom.

Nick pointed to a cabinet beside the sink.

Bradley opened the cabinet, revealing a small collection of bath products. He selected a bottle of lavender bath oil, pouring a generous amount into the running water. The scent immediately filled the bathroom—herbal, calming, familiar.

"Lavender helps with stress," he said, catching her questioning look. "My mother used to swear by it."

Nick smiled softly at this glimpse into his life. "Your mom sounds smart."

"She was," Bradley said simply, a flicker of old grief passing across his features before he turned back to the filling tub.

The intimacy of the moment struck Nick—not the physical closeness they were about to share, but this quiet emotional openness. Bradley rarely spoke of his family, of the mother he'd lost too young and the father whose shadow still loomed large over both their lives.

Steam curled into the air as Bradley turned to her. "May I?"

Nick nodded, lifting her arms slightly as Bradley’s hands found the hem of his sweatshirt. He pulled it over her head with gentle efficiency, his gaze steady. There was nothing heated in his expression—just tenderness, quiet care, something that made her chest tighten.

Instead of tucking her hair behind her ear, Bradley smoothed his palm down her arm, reassuring in its warmth.

When his fingers brushed against the waistband of her sleep shorts, Nick caught her breath. Bradley paused, his eyes searching her face.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes," she whispered, trusting him completely. "It's okay."

He slowly slid the shorts down her legs, his touch reverent. When she stood before him in just her underwear, Bradley pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"You're beautiful," he murmured against her skin.

Nick's eyes stung with unexpected tears. Not from embarrassment or vulnerability, but from the simple, honest care in his voice. Bradley seemed to notice, his thumbs gently wiping away the moisture before it could fall.

"No more tears today," he said softly, echoing Jake's earlier words.

Nick nodded, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt. "Your turn."

Bradley allowed her to undress him, standing still as her fingers worked at removing his clothing. Unlike their passionate encounter the night before, this disrobing was unhurried, tender. When they both stood naked, Bradley tested the water once more before stepping into the tub and holding out his hand to help her in.

She took his hand and let him help her into the tub. Once her feet were firmly in the water they both sat down, letting the warmth envelope them.

"This is nice," Nick murmured, her head resting against his shoulder.

Bradley's hands moved in slow, soothing circles across her shoulders, his thumbs working at the knots of tension there. "You're carrying a lot of stress here," he observed, his touch gentle but firm.

Nick closed her eyes, surrendering to his ministrations. "Hazard of the job. Staring at screens, blueprints, and leaning over engines all day."

"Hmm," Bradley hummed against her hair, his breath warm against her ear. "And the emotional crash probably didn't help."

She sighed, sinking deeper into the water. "No, it didn't."

Bradley's hands continued their gentle exploration, working down her arms, then back up to her shoulders. His touch was therapeutic rather than sexual, focused entirely on her comfort and relaxation.

"You know," he said softly, "what happened between us last night wasn't just physical for me and Jake."

Nick's eyes remained closed, but she tilted her head slightly, listening.

"I've never experienced anything like that before," Bradley continued, his voice low and intimate in the steamy bathroom. "Not just the sex, though that was... incredible. But the connection. The three of us together."

Nick felt a flutter in her chest at his words. "Me neither," she admitted. "It was like... like flying, but better."

Bradley chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest against her back. "Better than any flight I've been on that's for sure.”

Nick laughed softly, the sound breaking the tension that had lingered around her all day. "That's saying something, coming from one of Top Gun's finest."

Bradley pressed a kiss to her damp shoulder, his lips lingering against her skin. "I mean it, Nick. What we have—what we're building together—it's special."

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket. Nick leaned back further into his embrace, letting the water lap gently around them. For several minutes, they simply existed together in comfortable silence, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and their synchronized breathing.

"Bradley?" Nick finally whispered, her voice barely audible over the quiet splashing of the water.

"Hmm?" His fingers traced lazy patterns along her upper arms.

"I'm scared." The admission fell from her lips before she could reconsider it.

“About what beautiful?”

Nick swallowed hard, gathering her courage. "About this. Us. What happens when everyone finds out? What happens when my father discovers I'm dating not one, but two of his pilots?" She shifted slightly to look up at Bradley's face. "What if it interferes with your careers? With my job?"

Bradley's arms tightened around her, his expression thoughtful. "Those are valid concerns," he said, his voice low and steady. "But we'll figure it out together."

"My dad would lose his mind," Nick whispered. "He's always been so protective, and this... this would be beyond anything he could have imagined for me."

Bradley's thumb traced gentle circles on her shoulder. "Mav loves you. It might take time, but he'd come around."

"And what about the Navy? The fraternization rules—"

"Technically," Bradley interrupted gently, "you're not apart of the Navy. And Jake and I aren’t dating each other. We’re just dating you.”

Nick considered Bradley’s words, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. "So... just to make sure I understand—we're not two separate relationships happening at the same time. This is something different. Something that's ours."

Bradley met her gaze, his expression steady. "Exactly. It’s not about being separate. It’s about the three of us building something together."

The water lapped gently around them as Nick let his words settle. "And you two are okay with… sharing me?"

Bradley’s grip on her tightened slightly, reassuring. "It’s not about sharing, Nick. It’s about us being what each other needs. Jake and I—our connection is different. Not romantic, not sexual. But we trust each other, and we’re both committed to this."

Nick tilted her head, watching him carefully. "So you’re... becoming friends?"

Bradley huffed a quiet laugh. "I don’t know if I’d go that far."

Nick smirked. "You sure about that? Because from where I’m sitting, you seem like friends."

Bradley's lips curved against her temple in a slow smile. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this thing with you is changing everything."

Nick felt a flutter in her chest. "And what exactly is this?"

Bradley’s voice softened, his thumb tracing lazy circles against her damp skin. "It’s something that matters. Something worth protecting, worth caring for. Something worth fighting for."

The sincerity in Bradley’s voice made Nick’s throat tighten. She turned in his arms, water sloshing gently over the edge of the tub as she shifted to face him. His brown eyes were warm, open—revealing a vulnerability she rarely glimpsed beneath his composed exterior.

"I feel the same way about both of you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "And it terrifies me how quickly this happened. How intense it feels."

Bradley brushed his thumb across her cheek, his touch grounding. "Some things don’t follow a timeline, Nick. What we have... it may have happened fast, but that doesn’t make it any less real."

Nick leaned into his touch, the warm water enveloping them like a cocoon. It made voicing her deepest fears easier. "What if I’m not enough? For both of you?"

Bradley’s expression softened, his gaze never wavering. "That’s not possible. You’re more than enough."

"But what if—"

"Nick," Bradley interrupted gently, his hands framing her face. "The way you connect with each of us is unique. What you share with Jake isn’t the same as what you share with me, and that’s exactly how it should be. You don’t have to be everything to everyone."

She closed her eyes, letting his words settle. "And what if it all falls apart? What if we can’t make it work?"

"Then we’ll face that together too." Bradley’s voice was steady, grounding. "But I believe this—us—is worth the risk."

Nick searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity. Slowly, she nodded, allowing herself to believe in the possibility of them—this unconventional trio navigating uncharted waters together.

"The water’s getting cold," she murmured, suddenly aware of the dropping temperature.

Bradley pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Let’s get you dried off and into bed. You need rest."

The water was indeed cooling, breaking the spell of their intimate conversation. Bradley stood first, water streaming down his muscular frame as he reached for a towel. He wrapped it around his waist before grabbing another and holding it open for Nick.

"Come here," he said softly.

Nick rose from the bath, suddenly feeling shy despite their intimacy the night before. This vulnerability was different—emotional rather than physical. Bradley enveloped her in the towel, his movements gentle as he patted her skin dry.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, running the soft fabric over her shoulders and down her arms.

Nick allowed herself to be tended to, Bradley's careful ministrations soothing something deep within her. When he'd dried her thoroughly, he reached for his discarded sweatshirt.

"Arms up," he instructed softly.

Bradley's hands were gentle as he guided the sweatshirt down over her body, the soft fabric falling to mid-thigh. The tenderness in his movements made Nick's heart constrict. This wasn't the rushed passion of last night, but something equally intimate—a quiet demonstration of care that spoke volumes.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low.

Nick nodded, suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. The emotional rollercoaster of the day, combined with the warmth of the bath, had drained what little energy she had left. Bradley seemed to notice, his arm coming around her waist to steady her.

"Let’s get you to bed," he said softly, guiding her toward the bedroom.

The cool sheets welcomed Nick as Bradley helped her settle in. She expected him to join her, but instead, he tucked the comforter around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Aren’t you going to lay in bed and watch TV with me?" she all but pouted.

Bradley’s expression softened at her tone. "Of course I am. I just need to grab my phone, see if Jake messaged us."

He disappeared briefly, returning with his phone in hand. After quickly checking the screen, his expression warmed. "Jake’s meeting is running longer than expected. He says to tell you he’ll be here as soon as he can escape Cyclone’s clutches."

Nick smiled sleepily, lifting the comforter in invitation. Bradley slid in beside her, now wearing only his boxers. The heat of his body immediately warmed the space as he reached for the remote on her nightstand.

"What do you want to watch?" he asked, his arm coming around her shoulders.

Nick nestled against his side, her head finding the perfect spot on his chest where she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She watched as he scrolled the guide, speaking up when he landed on a show she liked. "I love The Big Bang Theory. Can we watch that?"

Bradley smiled, clicking on the episode. "Sure."

Nick snuggled closer as the familiar theme song played, the warmth of Bradley’s body and the soothing hum of the sitcom lulling her into a state of peaceful relaxation. His fingers traced lazy patterns on her shoulder through the sweatshirt, each touch grounding her further.

"Thank you," she murmured against his chest, her eyelids growing heavy.

"For what?" Bradley’s voice rumbled beneath her ear.

"For today. For understanding. For being exactly what I needed." Nick’s words were slightly slurred with approaching sleep.

Bradley pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You never have to thank me for that."

She fought to keep her eyes open, wanting to savor this moment of perfect contentment, but the emotional exhaustion of the day was catching up with her. The last thing she remembered before drifting off was the steady sound of Bradley’s heartbeat beneath her cheek and his voice softly humming along with the TV theme song. His fingers continued their gentle exploration, tracing idle patterns across her arm and back. The sensation was both comforting and intimate, lulling her deeper into relaxation.

"Sleep if you need to," Bradley murmured, his lips brushing against her hair. "I’ll be right here when you wake up."

Nick wanted to respond, to thank him again for his unwavering support, but exhaustion pulled her under. Her breathing deepened as she surrendered to sleep, secure in Bradley’s protective embrace.

She drifted through layers of consciousness, vaguely aware of Bradley adjusting the blankets around her, of his phone vibrating with incoming messages, of his voice—low and soothing—as he spoke to someone, presumably Jake. The familiar sounds anchored her as she floated into a peaceful slumber.

The soft click of the front door roused Bradley from his thoughts. He glanced up from the living room, where he’d been quietly unpacking the last of Nick’s boxes while she slept, to see Jake entering the apartment. Jake had changed into civilian clothes—dark jeans and a fitted white Henley—with his Wayfarers perched atop his head.

"How is she?" Jake asked immediately, his voice low as he set his keys on the counter.

Bradley nodded toward the bedroom. "Sleeping. She was wiped."

Jake’s usual cocky demeanor had softened, concern flickering in the lines around his eyes as he peered through the partially open bedroom door. "Has she been out the whole time?"

"Pretty much," Bradley confirmed, folding the empty cardboard box and setting it aside. "She crashed right after our bath."

Jake raised an eyebrow. "Bath, huh?"

Bradley shot him a look. "Not that kind of bath, Hangman."

Jake smirked but shook his head. "Sorry—force of habit." He reached up, pulled his sunglasses from his head, and set them down next to his keys before running a hand through his hair. The casual gesture did little to mask his concern. "How bad was she when you got here?"

"Better than at the hangar," Bradley said, moving to the fridge and pulling out two beers. He offered one to Jake, who accepted with a nod. "The food and bath helped. She opened up about some of her fears."

Jake twisted off the bottle cap and took a long pull. "Fears about us? About this… thing between the three of us?"

Bradley leaned against the counter, nodding. "Mostly about her dad finding out. And how it could affect our careers."

"Valid concerns," Jake admitted, his tone unusually serious. "What did you tell her?"

"That we’d figure it out together." Bradley’s gaze met Jake’s over the rim of his beer bottle. "That this is worth it."

A slow smile tugged at the corner of Jake’s mouth—nothing cocky, just something real. "Good answer."

He took another swig of beer before setting the bottle down and heading for the bedroom doorway. "I’m gonna check on her."

Jake moved quietly into the room, his footsteps barely audible on the carpet. Nick lay curled on her side, her face peaceful in sleep, Bradley’s oversized TOP GUN sweatshirt swallowing her petite frame. Like this, she looked younger, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be when awake.

He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her. His hand hovered over her shoulder before brushing a strand of hair from her face with unexpected tenderness. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back—but Nick stirred just as he moved to stand.

"Jake?" she murmured, voice thick with sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing on his face.

"Hey, darlin'," he said softly, his usual swagger replaced by something gentler. "Didn’t mean to wake you."

She reached for his hand, fingers curling around his. "You’re here."

Jake’s smile warmed. "Course I am. Told you I’d come as soon as I could."

Nick shifted, making room for him on the bed. "How was your meeting with my dad?"

"Boring as hell," Jake admitted. "Cyclone wanted to go over new protocols for a possible mission. Even Mav looked like he wanted to bolt."

"Sounds awful," she slurred.

"Go back to sleep," he murmured. "We’ll wake you when it’s dinner time."

Nick stared at Jake through half-lidded eyes, her exhaustion winning out. "Mkay," she whispered, drifting off once more.

Jake watched her sleep, her features relaxing as unconsciousness reclaimed her. He stayed there for a long moment, simply observing—the way her lashes fanned across her cheeks, the steady rise and fall of her breath. Something unfamiliar tightened in his chest—an emotion he wasn’t quite ready to name.

When he finally returned to the kitchen, Bradley was leaning against the counter, nursing his beer with a thoughtful expression.

"Still out?" Bradley asked.

Jake nodded, retrieving his own beer. "Like a light. Woke up for a second, but crashed again." He took a long pull from the bottle. "Never seen her like this."

Bradley exhaled, rolling the bottle between his palms. "Sub-drop hits everyone differently, I guess. I never even heard of it until you sent me that article." He took a sip. "Today was the first time I actually saw it happen."

"Me too."

Jake settled onto one of the barstools, his usual swagger momentarily set aside. "You know, when I first met Nick, I thought she’d be just another conquest. A challenge." He shook his head, a rueful smile playing at his lips. "I had no idea…"

"That she’d get under your skin?" Bradley finished, his expression knowing.

"Yeah." Jake ran a hand through his dark hair. "Or that I’d be sharing her with you, of all people."

Bradley raised an eyebrow. "Having second thoughts?"

"Hell no," Jake replied without hesitation. "What we have… it works. I don’t know how, but somehow it just does."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the hum of the refrigerator, TV, and Nick’s steady breathing the only sounds filling the apartment. Despite their initial rivalry, despite the unconventional nature of their situation, they had become close. Maybe even friends, though neither would say it outright.

Jake’s gaze drifted toward the bedroom door. "What do you think about ordering dinner? She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up."

Bradley nodded, setting his beer down. "Good idea. Thai? She mentioned liking that place on Third Street."

"Perfect." Jake pulled out his phone and started scrolling through a delivery app. "Pad Thai for her, green curry for me, and…" he glanced up at Bradley. "What about you?"

"Red curry, extra spicy," Bradley supplied.

Jake’s lips quirked up in a half-smile. "Should’ve guessed. Always gotta one-up me, don’t you, Rooster?"

There was no bite to the words, just the familiar rhythm of their banter. Bradley shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Not everything’s a competition, Hangman."

"Says the guy ordering his food as a test of endurance," Jake muttered, his eyes still on his phone as he placed the order. "Food will be here in forty-five minutes."

Bradley finished his beer and set the empty bottle on the counter. "Should we wake her when it gets here?"

Jake glanced toward the bedroom, his expression softening. "Let’s see how deeply she’s sleeping. If she’s still out, we can always reheat it for her later."

He stood, stretching his tall frame. Bradley’s gaze flicked toward him briefly, noting the effortless strength in his movements. For a moment, neither spoke, something unspoken settling in the space between them. They were different in nearly every way—Jake with his cocky confidence and impulsiveness, Bradley with his steady pragmatism and careful thought. Yet somehow, they had landed in the same place.

"I never thought I’d say this," Jake admitted, his voice quieter, "but I’m glad you’re here, Rooster. For her. She needs both of us."

Bradley nodded, a flicker of surprise passing over his features at Jake’s sincerity. "She does. In different ways, but yeah… she needs us both."

Jake exhaled slowly. "When I saw her crying in that hangar today… I’ve never felt so damn helpless."

"I know," Bradley said quietly. "That’s why we need to be better prepared next time. Make sure she never crashes that hard again."

Jake met Bradley’s gaze, something unspoken settling into place between them. "Agreed. Whatever she needs, whenever she needs it."

Bradley extended his hand, the gesture simple but weighted. "Partners?"

Jake grasped it firmly, his green eyes steady. "Partners."

The word lingered between them, carrying more weight than either had expected. Not just partners in caring for Nick—but in figuring out what this meant for all of them.

The moment was interrupted by a soft sound from the bedroom. Both men turned as Nick appeared, Bradley's oversized sweatshirt hanging to mid-thigh, her dark hair tousled from sleep. She blinked in the kitchen light, looking between them with groggy curiosity.

"Hey," she murmured, her voice still husky. "What are you two plotting?"

Jake's trademark smirk returned as he released Bradley's hand. "Just ordering dinner, darlin’. Thai food from that place you like."

Nick padded barefoot into the kitchen, drawn by the casual domesticity of the scene—her two pilots, relaxed and chatting as if they'd been doing this forever.

Jake sat back down and patted his lap. "Come here, sleeping beauty."

A sleepy smile curved her lips as she crossed to him, letting Jake pull her onto his lap. She settled against his chest, legs draped across his thighs, and sighed as his arms wrapped securely around her waist.

"How are you feeling?" Bradley asked, standing beside them, his hand resting gently on her shoulder.

Nick leaned into his touch while remaining nestled in Jake’s embrace. "Better." She looked between them, her expression soft with gratitude. "I really mean it—thank you both."

Jake pressed a kiss to her temple. "No thanks needed, darlin’. That’s why we’re here."

Nick traced a lazy pattern on Jake’s sleeve, voice tinged with curiosity. "Did you two have a heart-to-heart while I was sleeping?"

Jake chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest against her. "Something like that."

"We've come to an understanding," Bradley added, his hand still resting on her shoulder.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Not at all," Jake assured her, arms tightening slightly around her waist. "Just making sure we're on the same page about taking care of you."

"I don’t need to be taken care of," Nick muttered, though there was no bite to her words.

Bradley brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression soft. "Everyone does sometimes. Even the strongest people."

"Especially the strongest people," Jake added, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Because they’re usually the last ones to admit it."

Nick looked between them, these two men who had somehow become her anchors. The day’s emotional turbulence had stripped away her usual walls, leaving her too raw for pretense.

"I’m not used to this," she admitted quietly. "Letting people see me when I’m not… together."

Jake’s thumb traced small circles against her hip. "Well, get used to it, darlin’. Because we’re not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

Bradley knelt before her, taking her hands in his. "Promise," he echoed, his voice steady. His dark eyes held hers, something in them making her breath catch. "You don’t have to be strong all the time, Nick. Not with us."

Jake tightened his hold around her waist, his chest solid against her back. "What he said," he murmured against her hair. "We’ve got you."

Nick felt a prickle of tears—not the overwhelming storm from earlier, but something gentler, warmer. She blinked them away, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"I guess you’re stuck with me then," she said softly.

"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Jake replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

The warmth in their voices settled around her like a security blanket, replacing the hollow ache that had consumed her earlier.

"So," she said, clearing her throat, "you ordered Thai?"

"From that place on Third you like," Jake confirmed, fingers tracing idle patterns against her hip. "Should be here in about half an hour."

"Perfect," Nick murmured, leaning back against Jake while keeping her hands linked with Bradley's. "I'm starving."

Bradley smiled, giving her hands a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet. "Good. You need to eat."

"Yes, sir," she teased, some of her usual spark returning.

Jake chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest against her back. "There she is. Our girl’s coming back to us."

"All thanks to you two."

Jake kept his arm around Nick's waist, his fingers playing idly with the hem of the oversized sweatshirt she wore. "You know, that's becoming my favorite look on you," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Bradley's clothes, bed-head, and that sleepy smile."

Nick felt a blush creep up her neck. "I must look a mess."

"You look perfect," Bradley countered, leaning against the counter as he watched them, his gaze warm and appreciative.

Jake nodded, his hand sliding to her thigh, just below the sweatshirt’s hem. The touch was possessive but gentle, his thumb tracing small circles against her skin. "Exactly what I was thinking."

Nick smirked, tilting her head slightly. "I bet I’d look just as good in something you own."

Jake’s eyes flickered with interest, the corner of his mouth tugging into a familiar smirk. "Darlin', you’d look incredible in anything of mine." His fingers traced higher on her thigh, just beneath the sweatshirt's hem. "Though I gotta admit, seeing you in nothing but my dog tags would be something else."

Nick's breath caught at the image, heat blooming low in her belly despite her lingering exhaustion. Bradley watched them, his expression warming as he observed their interaction.

"I think that could be arranged," Nick replied, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. The emotional rawness from earlier was receding, replaced by the comfort of their easy banter.

Bradley moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water. He uncapped it and handed it to Nick. "Which we can save for another night. Tonight should be all of us, especially you relaxing."

Nick accepted the water gratefully, taking a long sip. The cool liquid soothed her throat, reminding her how dehydrated the emotional day had left her.

"You're right," she admitted, leaning back against Jake's solid chest. "I don't think I have the energy for anything more strenuous than eating Thai food and watching a movie."

Jake's arms tightened around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Whatever you need, darlin'. We're just happy to be here with you."

The sincerity in his voice, so different from his usual cockiness, made something warm unwind in Nick's chest. She glanced at Bradley, finding the same genuine care reflected in his steady gaze.

"How about we move this to the couch?" Bradley suggested, nodding toward the living room. "More comfortable than kitchen stools."

Jake stood with Nick still in his arms, lifting her effortlessly as she let out a surprised squeak. "Show-off," she mumbled against his neck, though she made no move to protest as he carried her to the living room.

"You love it," Jake replied, his voice warm with affection as he settled onto the couch with Nick in his lap.

Bradley followed, carrying Nick's water and his own. He sat beside them, close enough that his thigh pressed against Jake's, Nick's bare feet naturally coming to rest in his lap. Without thinking, his fingers began to massage her arches, drawing a contented sigh from her lips.

"That feels amazing," she murmured, her body gradually relaxing further between the two men.

Jake's arms remained securely around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as Bradley continued the gentle foot massage. The three of them fit together with surprising ease.

“I never realized til now what tiny feet you have.”

Nick wiggled her toes under Bradley's touch, a small smile playing at her lips. "Are you saying I have dainty feet, Rooster?"

Bradley's fingers worked magic on her arches, his touch firm yet gentle. "I'm saying they're perfectly proportioned to the rest of you."

Jake nuzzled against her neck, his breath warm against her skin. "Everything about you is perfect, darlin'."

Nick rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress the warmth spreading through her chest at their words. "You two are incorrigible."

"Big word for someone who just woke up," Jake teased, his lips brushing against her pulse point.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their moment of domestic tranquility. Bradley gave her foot one final squeeze before standing. "That'll be dinner."

Nick made to move from Jake's lap, but his arms tightened around her waist, keeping her firmly in place.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jake murmured against her ear, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

"To get plates?" she offered, though she made no real effort to escape his embrace.

"Bradley's got it," Jake said, pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Your job right now is to stay right here and keep letting us take care of you."

Nick relaxed back against Jake, watching as Bradley paid for their food and brought the fragrant bags to the coffee table. There was something mesmerizing about seeing these two skilled pilots—men trained for precision and control—engaged in something as simple as unpacking dinner.

Bradley opened the containers, releasing the spicy-sweet aroma of Thai food into the room.

He went to hand Nick her meal, but Jake took it instead, flicking open the container and grabbing a fork.

"What are you—"

"Open," Jake interrupted, his tone casual but firm.

Nick blinked at his sudden command, but the tenderness in his expression made her comply. She opened her mouth, and Jake carefully fed her a bite of pad Thai. The flavors exploded on her tongue—sweet, salty, tangy, with just enough warmth to settle deep in her chest.

"Good?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Nick nodded, swallowing before speaking. "Perfect." A blush crept up her cheeks as she glanced between Jake and Bradley. "But I can feed myself, you know."

Bradley settled beside them, opening his own container of red curry. "We know," he said simply. "But tonight is about taking care of you."

Jake offered her another bite, which she accepted with less hesitation. There was something unexpectedly comforting about being fed this way, cradled in Jake’s lap while Bradley sat close enough that his presence grounded her.

"But what about your food? Won't it get cold?"

Jake chuckled, taking a bite of his own curry before offering Nick another forkful of pad Thai. "I can multitask, darlin'."

Bradley watched them with a soft expression, his usual intensity mellowed in the relaxed atmosphere. "We both can."

Nick accepted the next bite, gradually surrendering to their care. The Thai food was exactly what she needed—warm, flavorful, soothing. The three of them ate in companionable silence, the only sounds their quiet appreciation of the meal and the occasional clink of utensils against containers.

"This is nice," Nick finally murmured, leaning back against Jake’s chest. "Weird, but nice."

"Weird how?" Bradley asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nick gestured vaguely with her hand. "Being fed like I’m a toddler."

Jake chuckled, the vibration rumbling through his chest against her back. "Not like a toddler, darlin'. Like someone precious."

"Someone who deserves to be taken care of," Bradley added, his gaze warm as it met hers.

Nick felt her cheeks flush at their words. She’d always prided herself on her independence, on never needing anyone. But here, nestled between these two men, she found herself surrendering to their care with surprising ease.

"I’m not used to this," she admitted softly, accepting another bite from Jake. "Being the one who needs taking care of."

"Get used to it," Jake murmured against her hair. "Because we’re not stopping anytime soon."

Bradley reached over, his hand finding hers. "Not ever, if we have anything to say about it."

The simple declaration settled something in Nick’s chest, and again she wanted to tell them she loved them. But just like last night, she kept it to herself.

Nick’s heart skipped a beat at Bradley’s words. The intensity in his eyes matched the quiet certainty in his voice. She glanced back at Jake, finding the same conviction in his expression, though tempered with his characteristic playfulness.

"So this is really happening," she said softly, more statement than question. "The three of us."

Jake’s arm tightened around her waist. "Oh, it’s happening, darlin'. Has been since that first night."

Bradley nodded, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her palm. "I think we all knew it then, even if we couldn’t name it yet."

Nick took another bite of pad Thai, using the moment to collect her thoughts. The emotional rollercoaster of the day had left her raw, exposed in ways she rarely allowed herself to be. Yet here, nestled between these two men, she felt strangely protected.

“Do you want anymore?” Jake asked.

Nick shook her head, setting the half-empty container on the coffee table. "No, I'm full. Thank you."

Jake pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering against her skin. "Good girl."

The simple praise sent a warm flutter through her chest, different from the heated desire his words usually evoked. This was comfort, security—a feeling of being treasured.

Bradley finished his curry and set the container aside, his hand returning to rest on her ankle. His thumb traced idle patterns against her skin as he watched her with those steady brown eyes.

"What do you want to do now?" Jake asked, his voice low and gentle. "We could watch TV, or just talk, or if you're still tired..."

Nick considered the options, acutely aware of the warmth of Jake’s chest against her back and Bradley’s steady hand resting near her ankle. The emotional exhaustion had faded, replaced by a comfortable relaxation.

"We could watch the Dodgers game in bed," she suggested, settling deeper into Jake’s lap. The storm had passed, leaving behind a peaceful calm that felt both foreign and familiar.

"You heard the lady," Jake said to Bradley, his voice warm with affection. "Dodgers in bed it is."

Bradley gathered their empty containers, clearing the coffee table with efficient movements. "I’ll clean up dinner while you two get settled."

Jake tightened his arms around her waist. "Ready for bed, darlin’?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Nick nodded, allowing him to lift her effortlessly.

Jake carried Nick to the bedroom, her arms looped around his neck. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on her—this cocky pilot, known for his swagger and bravado, cradling her with such quiet tenderness.

"You don’t have to carry me everywhere, you know," she murmured, though she made no move to pull away.

Jake’s lips curved into that familiar half-smile as he set her down gently on the bed. "Maybe I just like having you in my arms, Mitchell."

There was something in his voice—a vulnerability beneath the teasing tone—that made Nick’s heart flutter. She watched as he moved around her room with unexpected familiarity, finding the remote and fluffing pillows against the headboard with one hand while the other rested lightly at her side.

Jake adjusted the pillows behind her, movements careful and deliberate. "Comfortable?"

Nick nodded, pulling Bradley’s sweatshirt down over her thighs as she leaned back against the headboard. "Perfect."

Jake's eyes darkened as they swept over her, taking in the sight of her bare legs and tousled hair. "You have no idea what you do to me, looking like that."

Before Nick could respond, Bradley appeared in the doorway, his tall frame filling the space. He was dressed casually in a t-shirt and boxers, his gaze sweeping over them. "Everything okay in here?"

"Better than okay," Jake replied, his eyes still on Nick. He straightened, moving to the other side of the bed. "Our girl's all settled in."

"I just need my boys to cuddle me."

Bradley's expression softened at her words. In three easy strides, he crossed the room and settled onto the bed beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. Jake was already kicking off his shoes and shucking his jeans, leaving him in a fitted henley and boxer briefs.

"Your boys, huh?" Jake repeated, a pleased grin spreading across his face as he slid under the covers on her other side. "I like the sound of that."

Nick found herself enveloped between them—Bradley's steady warmth on her left, Jake's lean strength on her right. She sighed as Bradley reached for the remote, finding the Dodgers game already in the bottom of the first inning.

"Who's winning?" Jake asked, his arm sliding around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Dodgers up by two," Bradley replied, his hand closing gently over Nick’s, holding it against his chest.

Nick nestled between them, the familiar hum of the baseball game creating a comforting backdrop to the quiet intimacy of the moment. Bradley's thumb traced lazy circles on the back of her hand while Jake’s fingers idly played with the hem of her sweatshirt. The ease of it struck her—how quickly they'd fallen into this pattern of casual touch and shared space.

"This is nice," she murmured, her head finding the perfect spot against Jake’s shoulder.

"Mmm," Jake agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Though I never pegged you for a baseball fan, Mitchell."

Nick smiled, watching as the Dodgers' pitcher struck out another batter. "My dad and I used to watch games together when I was growing up. It was our thing, especially after my parents divorced."

Bradley's grip on her hand tightened slightly. "Maverick doesn’t strike me as a baseball fan."

"Oh, trust me, he is. Whenever the Dodgers needed some extra luck, he'd bring out his lucky bat."

"His lucky bat?" Jake laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest against her. "Captain Mitchell had a lucky bat? Now that’s something I never expected."

Nick smiled at the memory, sinking deeper into the comfort of their embrace. "It was an old wooden thing from when he played in high school. He’d wave it around during crucial plays, convinced it channeled good energy to the team."

Bradley’s thumb kept tracing soft patterns against her knuckles. "Did it work?"

"Sometimes," Nick said with a quiet laugh. "But I think it was more about us believing it worked. Those were some of my favorite memories with him—just the two of us, eating hot dogs and waving that ridiculous bat around."

Jake’s arm tightened slightly around her waist. "You two really are close, huh?"

"We are. Not that my mom and I aren’t, but I was always a daddy’s girl," Nick admitted, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Even when he was deployed, he’d send me postcards from every port. Sometimes just a line or two, but I kept every single one."

Bradley’s expression softened as he listened. "That explains a lot about you."

Nick turned slightly to face him. "What do you mean?"

"Your determination. Your loyalty." Bradley’s voice was gentle. "The way you never back down from a challenge."

Jake’s fingers traced idle patterns near her hip. "And your stubbornness," he added with a

smirk. "Definitely got that from Maverick."

Nick jabbed Jake playfully with her elbow. "Watch it, Hangman."

"He's not wrong," Bradley added with a smirk.

Nick scoffed. "He's going to kill you both when he finds out about this, you know."

Jake chuckled, though a flicker of genuine concern passed beneath his bravado. "Worth it."

"Absolutely worth it," Bradley agreed, his voice steady.

Nick lifted her chin. "Well, if he or anyone tries anything, I'll protect you both."

Jake laughed, eyes crinkling with amusement. "You'll protect us? From Maverick? That's adorable, darlin'."

Nick narrowed her eyes, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "I'll have you know, I can be very intimidating when I want to be."

Bradley’s arm curved around her shoulders, pulling her in. "Of course you are, baby."

Nick huffed, a petulant frown crossing her face. "Okay, so maybe I couldn't physically intimidate him. But I have other weapons in my arsenal."

Jake arched a brow, clearly intrigued. "Do tell, darlin'."

"Emotional manipulation," Nick said, her grin mischievous. "I've been wrapping my father around my little finger since I was born. One tearful 'Daddy, please,' and he melts like ice cream in July."

Bradley chuckled. "I can actually see that working. The man who never backs down from anything, completely defenseless against his daughter's tears."

"It's my superpower," Nick confirmed, nestling deeper between them. On the television, the Dodgers scored another run, but none of them were paying much attention anymore.

Jake stifled a yawn, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry," he murmured. "That meeting with Cyclone and your dad drained me."

Nick studied his face, noting the faint shadows beneath his eyes. "You're tired. Both of you probably are after dealing with me all day."

Bradley’s fingers threaded through her hair, his touch soothing. "We're fine. Tonight is about you."

"No," Nick said firmly, surprising both men with the sudden authority in her voice. "Tonight is about us. All of us." She shifted, pulling the blankets higher around them. "You’ve both been taking care of me all day. Let me take care of you now."

Jake shook his head. "I'm fine, darlin'."

"No, you’re not," Nick countered. "You should get some rest."

Jake looked ready to protest, but Nick pressed a finger to his lips. "No arguments. You’ve been up since dawn, had a full day of flying, sat through hours of meetings with my father and Cyclone, then rushed over here to take care of me. You’re exhausted."

The gentle authority in her voice seemed to catch Jake off guard. He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm.

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured, a tired smile playing at his lips.

Nick reached for the remote, lowering the volume on the game. She adjusted, making herself the center point between them, and guided Jake’s head to her shoulder.

"Rest," she murmured, her fingers threading through his dark hair. "I’ve got you now."

Jake’s resistance crumbled under her touch. With a soft sigh, he nestled against her, his arm still draped protectively across her waist. Bradley watched them with warm eyes, his own exhaustion becoming more evident as he allowed himself to relax.

"You too," Nick told him, extending her other arm in invitation.

Bradley hesitated only briefly before settling against her other side, his head finding the perfect spot on her shoulder. The weight of both men against her was comforting rather than overwhelming, their solid warmth anchoring her in a way she’d never experienced before.

Nick pressed a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads, a tender gesture that felt both new and strangely familiar. "Sleep," she whispered, fingers tracing soothing patterns through their hair. "Let me take care of my boys for a change."

Jake mumbled something against her neck, already drifting off. Bradley lasted a bit longer, his hand still holding hers, but soon his breathing deepened as well. Nick found herself the only one awake, cradled between these two men who had shown her such unwavering tenderness throughout the day.

The baseball game continued on the television, the distant cheers and the announcer’s low commentary creating a soft backdrop. But instead of watching the game, she found herself watching them.

Taglist:

@meg626

@lunatygerqueen

@og-baby-ob14

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[tatarstani]

Data on crimes committed by the Ukrainian Armed Forces in April 2025.

Civilian victims.

According to verified data, at least 478 civilians suffered from the actions of the Ukrainian Armed Forces in April: 419 people were wounded, including 21 children, 59 people were killed, including 5 children.

Ukrainian Armed Forces weapons against civilians

Most often, Ukrainian formations used the following to commit crimes against the civilian population: barrel artillery, most often of NATO caliber 155 mm, UAVs of various modifications, MLRS of caliber 122 mm and 227 mm, anti-personnel mines and explosive devices.

Drones against civilians

In April, the number of civilians injured by attack drones, FPV drones, and fixed-wing UAVs used by the Ukrainian Armed Forces increased. According to data for April: at least 221 civilians were injured from the use of attack drones, including 11 children, and 29 people were killed, including 1 child. Deliberate and systematic attacks on private civilian and urban municipal transport have become widespread.

Prohibited forms and methods of warfare

During the specified period, Ukrainian armed formations actively used cluster munitions, rockets with shrapnel and fragmentation warheads against the civilian population.

Despite the fact that Ukraine is a signatory to the Ottawa Convention banning anti-personnel mines, the Ukrainian Armed Forces continued to systematically use various modifications of anti-personnel mines, both Ukrainian and Western-made, supplied by Western accomplices to the conflict. They were illegally used against both military personnel and civilians. Some of their varieties were used for remote mining of civilian objects and places of mass visitation. In April, there were explosions of civilians on detonated submunitions and anti-personnel mines. Among the victims are children who received serious injuries.

The Ukrainian Armed Forces practiced UAV raids with the aim of setting fire to and destroying entire streets of residential buildings by dropping incendiary shells or mixtures from drones that caused fires in the residential sector. Such facts were recorded in several settlements of the Bryansk region.

Attacks on doctors and emergency first responder personal

In April, the Ukrainian Armed Forces continued to implement their tactics of deliberately striking rescue, medical and emergency services arriving at the sites of shelling. During the reporting period, more than two dozen medical vehicles were damaged by shelling. During a massive Ukrainian UAV raid on Kursk, 15 ambulances and resuscitation vehicles were simultaneously damaged.

The data was collected by the Service of the Ambassador-at-Large for Crimes of the Kyiv Regime of the Russian Foreign Ministry with the assistance of the Laboratory of Intelligent Data Analysis in the Field of International Relations of the IMI MGIMO MFA of Russia.

Shelling of civilian targets by the Ukrainian Armed Forces

In April 2025, Ukrainian formations carried out about 2,000 strikes on civilian targets weekly or about 300 strikes

daily - at least 8,929 rounds of ammunition were fired in a month.

The targets of the strikes were residential multi-story and private buildings, infrastructure facilities, manufacturing enterprises, medical, educational and social facilities.

[evidence-based-activism]

Can you say anything about (apparently) rampant inmate-on-inmate SA in female prisons? Is it even a thing (I can't properly evaluate sources)

Hello!

This is a difficult one, because we don't have very good data on this topic. I'm going to go over some of the data, but I'll also point out the flaws that impede our ability to make any firm conclusions.

Women

First, the best evidence for the prevalence of sexual violence in prisons is this recent systematic review and meta-analysis [1]. They found that ~15% of female prisoners reported experiencing sexual violence while in prison; however, this figure included victimization by both other inmates and staff. High-quality studies placed this estimate at ~17%. Notably, given the comparatively short time frame these women are being questioned about, these victimization rates are much higher than the general population.

However, this estimate was based on only 2483 women across multiple countries. (The high-quality estimate was based on 1733 women.)

Together, this illustrates that women face significant sexual violence while incarcerated. However, this data cannot speak to the sex of the perpetrator.

There are similar – and other – issues with the USA data from the Bureau of Justice Statistics.

This 2013 report [2] completed interviews with a representative sample of prisons. They found 7% of women reported inmate-on-inmate sexual violence. However, 14% of the sampled prisons housing women also housed male inmates. (Note: this is not a question of gender identification; these facilities simply intend to house both men and women.) They provide no information on the sex of the perpetrator in the cases of inmate-on-inmate violence.

Another 2012 interview-based source (using data from 2008) [3] sampled men and women, post-release from both "correctional" and "community" facilities. They found 14% of women reported inmate-on-inmate sexual violence. While we don't have data for this exact year, we do know that 60% of all facilities that housed women also housed men in 2005 [4, 5] and in 2019 [6, 7].

(Side note: for those shocked by these proportions, be aware that this statistic includes both the correctional facilities usually thought of as prisons and jails as well as community-based facilities like "restitution centers". The corresponding estimates for only traditional correctional facilities were 40% in 2005 and 45% in 2019.)

Therefore, while this statistic does show high rates of sexual victimization among incarcerated women, it again cannot speak to the sex of the perpetrator. The fact that former prisoners report a much higher prevalence of sexual victimization than current prisoners also suggests that there is rampant underreporting.

More recent data [8] has an additional issue; it is based on official allegations. In addition to that, detailed information (including gender breakdown) was only reported for "substantiated" incidents. This presents a significant issue, since over half of all inmate-on-inmate incidents are "unsubstantiated" (meaning there was insufficient evidence to prove or disprove the assault). Unfortunately, almost a third of inmate-on-inmate incidents are registered as “unfounded," meaning the "investigation determined that the event did not occur."

This would indicate an abnormally high level of false reporting. This is difficult to take on faith, given the known issues with the prison system's treatment of sexual assault. However, it also cannot be entirely neglected, as we also have evidence from inmates that the current allegation system is misused via false allegations by both inmates and staff [9, 10]. (To be clear, inmates still generally supported the current system, as compared to the previous system.)

For example, some report homophobic staff making false allegations of inmate-on-inmate violence about consensual homosexual relations. Others report inmates using it to change their personal circumstances. (It's important to note here that incarceration is specifically designed to exert considerable control over the inmates. Given the effects such loss of control can have, I would not be surprised if there was a higher-than-normal rate of false allegations in prisons. Making a false allegation is certainly morally wrong, but I find it easy to understand why people deprived of so much of their agency would resort to such methods simply to exercise a degree of control over their environment.)

As a result of this, and the previously mentioned issue of under-reporting, we simply do not have an accurate gender-breakdown of sexual assault victimization, much less perpetration, in prisons.

That being said, of the substantiated inmate-on-inmate incidents [8], relative to their share of the prison population [11], women accounted for a disproportionate amount of both inmate-on-inmate victims and perpetrators. (But still with more victimizations than perpetrations.) Whether or not these were same-sex assaults is unknown, given the existence of mixed-sex facilities (as noted earlier). Still, while keeping the limitations in mind, this does suggest a higher rate of female sexual violence perpetration in prisons than in the general population. (I will come back to this.)

And, as an important side note to this topic, the data on staff-on-inmate sexual violence should be taken with less than a grain of salt. A recent scathing report to the Senate on women's prisons [12] found that staff sexually abused incarcerated women in at least two-thirds of federal prisons that held women, management and investigative failures enabled this abuse, and reporting failures did not illustrate the extent of the problem.

Girls

The data we have on incarcerated girls is plagued by the same problems. In particular:

Between 2013-2018, only 22% of youth allegations of youth-on-youth sexual violence were recorded as "substantiated". (As was only 6% of staff-on-youth allegations.) [13]

Much of the research on gender differences [13, 14] relies on only substantiated incidents.

The same issues with both false reporting and under-reporting are likely relevant to juveniles. In fact, given their additional vulnerability and reduced maturity (e.g., more difficult time considering long-term consequences), both of these issues may be even more prevalent.

In 2018, 67% of the sampled facilities housing female inmates also housed male inmates [15].

That being said, in 2018 ~5% of female youth reported youth-on-youth sexual victimization. Given the majority of female facilities were actually mixed sex, we cannot speak to the sex of the perpetrator.

However, other work [16] indicates that, based on the estimated proportion of girls in juvenile facilities [17], girls are over-represented among perpetrators of youth-on-youth sexual violence. (Again, whether or not these were same-sex victimizations is unknown, given the existence of mixed-sex facilities.) Similar to adult inmates, girls appear to be over-represented among both victims and perpetrators (also with more victimizations than perpetrations) [14]. (Again, I will come back to this.)

Finally, I'd be remiss if I did not point out that the number of accusations of youth-on-youth violence is low. For both boys and girls, between 2013-2018, there were 5736 allegations [13] (of which 1276 were substantiated), resulting in an overall prevalence rate of ~2%. Directly surveying youth in 2018 yielded a similar 2% prevalence rate [15].

Issues with under-reporting should still be kept in mind, particularly since we've seen that direct surveys while still incarcerated yield much lower prevalence rates than after release [3]. Importantly, this all points towards further limitations in the data, suggesting we should be cautious with any conclusions made.

Higher Female Perpetration Rates

So, keeping in mind all of the limitations, the data we have does suggest that incarcerated women and girls have a higher perpetration rate than women and girls in the general population. For clarity, the absolute number of incarcerated female perpetrators is still low. But because women make up only about 7% of the adult incarcerated population [11] and about 15% of the juvenile incarcerated population [17], and because the proportion of female offenders in the general population is so low, this still results in a higher relative proportion than in the general population.

I do think it's worthwhile to examine why the prevalence of female sex offenders appears to be so much higher in prisons than outside it. But I want to be clear that I am not excusing the abuse perpetrated by these offenders; they are still choosing to commit these crimes.

First, work has shown that conditions unique to prisons can result in greater violent behavior [18].

In addition, we know that re-offending is extremely frequent for both men and women [19-21] and offenders do not often commit only one type of crime. This makes it more likely that a randomly chosen female inmate would be a sex offender than a randomly chosen woman in the general population (i.e., it's more likely that a person identified as having committed one type of crime will have also committed another type of crime than a person who has not been identified as having committed any crime).

In addition to that, while I have previously discussed the mixed evidence on a link between sexual victimization and sexual offending, in that post I also note the research suggests that "the vast majority of female sexual abuse victims do not become sexual offenders ... [but] the minority of female sexual abuse victims who do become sexual offenders ... make up the majority of female sexual offenders." This is relevant because other research [22, 23] indicates the majority of women in prison have a history of sexual victimization, although estimates in the literature vary widely [24].

Again, this supports the hypothesis that women who are prone to sexual offending are overrepresented among the prison population. That being said, given the sensitive nature of this topic, I also want to emphasize that the vast majority of women in prison – including those with a history of sexual victimization – do not commit any sexual offenses. In other words, a woman simply having a history of both incarceration and sexual victimization should not be assumed to be a "likely" sex offender.

This work illustrates a few possibilities for the higher rate of female offending in prisons.

Conclusion

To sum everything up:

The rate of sexual victimization among women in prison is very high.

Limitations in the data (i.e., mixed sex facilities, minimal reports on perpetrator sex) preclude our ability to determine how much of this victimization is perpetrated by women against women.

Other limitations in the data (i.e., report methodology, under-reporting, false reports, institutional neglect) prevent us from drawing firm conclusions about the other aspects of sexual violence among inmates.

However, the evidence we have does suggest that there is a higher prevalence of female sexual offending among among incarcerated women and girls than in the general population.

In absolute terms, this prevalence is still low.

The relatively higher rate may be explained (but not excused) by prison conditions, the frequency of re-offending, and the victim-offender overlap.

I hope this answers your question, Anon!

References under the cut:

Caravaca-Sánchez, F., Aizpurua, E., & Wolff, N. (2023). The prevalence of prison-based physical and sexual victimization in males and females: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, 24(5), 3476-3492.

Beck, A. J., Berzofsky, M., Caspar, R., & Krebs, C. (2013). Sexual victimization in prisons and jails reported by inmates, 2011–12. NCJ, 241399.

Beck, A., & Johnson, C. (2016). Sexual victimization reported by former state prisoners, 2008. Bureau of Justice Statistics ; Bureau of Justice Statistics.

Stephan, J. J. Census of State and Federal Correctional Facilities, 2005. Bureau of Justice Statistics ; Bureau of Justice Statistics.

United States Department of Justice. Office of Justice Programs. Bureau of Justice Statistics. Census of State and Federal Adult Correctional Facilities, 2005. Inter-university Consortium for Political and Social Research [distributor], 2017-05-12. https://doi.org/10.3886/ICPSR24642.v3

Maruschak, L. M., & Buehler, E. D. (2021). Census of state and federal adult correctional facilities, 2019–statistical tables. NCJ, 301366. Bureau of Justice Statistics ; Bureau of Justice Statistics.

United States. Bureau of Justice Statistics. Census of State and Federal Adult Correctional Facilities, 2019. Inter-university Consortium for Political and Social Research [distributor], 2022-08-18. https://doi.org/10.3886/ICPSR38325.v2

Buehler, Emily D., & Kottke-Weaver, S. (2024). Sexual victimization reported by adult correctional authorities, 2019-2020 – statistical tables. Bureau of Justice Statistics ; Bureau of Justice Statistics. https://bjs.ojp.gov/document/svraca1920st.pdf

Dunton, C. A., Smith, H. P., & Ferdik, F. (2024). The unintended effects of the Prison Rape Elimination Act (PREA) in a maximum-security prison for women: weaponization, bullying, and compulsory heterosexuality. Crime & Delinquency, 00111287241237984.

Weaver, S., Shippen, M. E., Derzis, N., Rebecca S. Curtis, R. S. C. R. S. C., Hall, A. L., & Fleming, C. L. (2025). The power of perception: Female inmate views on prea implementation. American Journal of Qualitative Research, 9(1), 52–74. https://doi.org/10.29333/ajqr/15879

Carson, E. A. (2021). Prisoners in 2020–Statistical tables. NCJ, 302776, 1-50. Bureau of Justice Statistics ; Bureau of Justice Statistics.

Smith, B. (2022). Sexual Abuse of Female Inmates in Federal Prisons.

Maruschak, L. M., & Buehler, Emily D. (2021). Sexual victimization reported by juvenile justice authorities, 2013-2018. Bureau of Justice Statistics. https://bjs.ojp.gov/sites/g/files/xyckuh236/files/media/document/svrjja1318.pdf

Buehler, E. D. (2023). Substantiated Incidents of Sexual Victimization Reported by Juvenile Justice Authorities, 2013–2018.

Smith, E. L., & Widico-Stroop, J. (2019). Sexual victimization reported by youth in juvenile facilities, 2018. US Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, Bureau of Justice Statistics.

Field, M. B., & Davis, E. (2020). Victim, Perpetrator, and Incident Characteristics of Sexual Victimization of Youth in Juvenile Facilities, 2018–Statistical Tables. US Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, Bureau of Justice Statistics, 1-13.

Ehrmann, S., Hyland, N., & Puzzanchera, C. M. (2019). Girls in the juvenile justice system. US Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention.

van Ginneken, E. F., & Wooldredge, J. (2024). Offending and victimization in prisons: New theoretical and empirical approaches. International journal of law, crime and justice, 77, 100667.

Antenangeli, L., & Durose, M. R. (2021). Recidivism of prisoners released in 24 states in 2008: A 10-year follow-up period (2008-2018). US Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, Bureau of Justice Statistics.

Alper, M., Durose, M. R., & Markman, J. (2018). 2018 update on prisoner recidivism: A 9-year follow-up period (2005-2014) (p. 2). Washington, DC: US Department of Justice, Office of Justice Programs, Bureau of Justice Statistics.

Durose, M. R., & Antenangeli, L. (2023). Recidivism of Females Released from State Prison, 2012–2017. Bureau of Justice Statistics. https://bjs.ojp.gov/document/rfrsp1217.pdf

DeHart, D., Lynch, S., Belknap, J., Dass-Brailsford, P., & Green, B. (2014). Life history models of female offending: The roles of serious mental illness and trauma in women’s pathways to jail. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 38(1), 138-151.

Belknap, J., & Wilson, C. M. (2025). The Extreme Sexual Victimization Histories of Women in Prison and the Significance of Race. Criminal Justice and Behavior, 00938548241310365.

White, H. R., & Frisch-Scott, N. E. (2023). Childhood victimization and adult incarceration: A review of the literature. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse, 24(3), 1543-1559.

[probablyasocialecologist]

While the Cass Review has been presented by the U.K. media, politicians and some prominent doctors as a triumph of objective inquiry, its most controversial recommendations are based on prejudice rather than evidence. Instead of helping young people, the review has caused enormous harm to children and their families, to democratic discourse and to wider principles of scientific endeavour. There is an urgent need to critically examine the actual context and findings of the report. Since its 2020 inception, the Cass Review’s anti-trans credentials have been clear. It explicitly excluded trans people from key roles in research, analysis and oversight of the project, while sidelining most practitioners with experience in trans health care. The project centered and sympathized with anti-trans voices, including professionals who deny the very existence of trans children. Former U.K. minister for women and equalities Kemi Badenoch, who has a history of hostility toward trans people even though her role was to promote equality within the government, boasted that the Cass Review was only possible because of her active involvement. The methodology underpinning the Cass Review has been extensively criticized by medical experts and academics from a range of disciplines. Criticism has focused especially on the effect of bias on the Cass approach, double standards in the interpretation of data, substandard scientific rigor, methodological flaws and a failure to properly substantiate claims. For example, although the existing literature reports a wide range of important benefits of social transition and no credible evidence of harm, the Cass Review cautions against it. The review also dismisses substantial documented benefits of adolescent medical transition as underevidenced while highlighting risks based on evidence of significantly worse quality. A warning about impaired brain maturation, for instance, cites a single, very short speculative paper that in turn rests on one experimental study with female mice. Meanwhile extensive qualitative data and clinical consensus are almost entirely ignored. These issues help explain why the Cass recommendations differ from previous academic reviews and expert guidance from major medical organisations such as the World Professional Association for Transgender Health (WPATH) and the American Academy of Pediatrics. WPATH’s experts themselves highlight the Cass report’s “selective and inconsistent use of evidence,” with recommendations that “often do not follow from the data presented in the systematic reviews.” Leading specialists in transgender medical care from the U.S. and Australia emphasize that “the Review obscures key findings, misrepresents its own data, and is rife with misapplications of the scientific method.” For instance, the Cass report warns that an “exponential change in referrals” to England’s child and adolescent gender clinic during the 2010s is “very much faster than would be expected.” But this increase has not been exponential, and the maximum 5,000 referrals it notes in 2021 represents a very small proportion of the 44,000 trans adolescents in the U.K. estimated from 2021 census data.

7 August 2024

[covid-safer-hotties]

SARS-CoV-2 impairs male fertility by targeting semen quality and testosterone level: A systematic review and meta-analysis - Published Sept 9, 2024

Abstract Background Since the discovery of COVID-19 in December 2019, the novel virus has spread globally causing significant medical and socio-economic burden. Although the pandemic has been curtailed, the virus and its attendant complication live on. A major global concern is its adverse impact on male fertility.

Aim This study was aimed to give an up to date and robust data regarding the effect of COVID-19 on semen variables and male reproductive hormones.

Materials and methods Literature search was performed according to the recommendations of PRISMA. Out of the 852 studies collected, only 40 were eligible for inclusion in assessing the effect SARS-CoV-2 exerts on semen quality and androgens. More so, a SWOT analysis was conducted.

Results The present study demonstrated that SARS-CoV-2 significantly reduced ejaculate volume, sperm count, concentration, viability, normal morphology, and total and progressive motility. Furthermore, SARS-CoV-2 led to a reduction in circulating testosterone level, but a rise in oestrogen, prolactin, and luteinizing hormone levels. These findings were associated with a decline in testosterone/luteinizing hormone ratio.

Conclusions The current study provides compelling evidence that SARS-CoV-2 may lower male fertility by reducing semen quality through a hormone-dependent mechanism; reduction in testosterone level and increase in oestrogen and prolactin levels.

[ms-demeanor]

it's hard to find legitimate data on risks associated with alcohol--a lot of results from religious organizations w/ vested financial interest in evangelical cult-type shit comes up when i try. i drink heavily occasionally, mostly because i just really like the experience of getting blasted with close friends once every few months--any advice on tracking down actual *reputable* data on the risks of that?

(tamping down on the urge to anonymously defend my actions in my favorite anarchism blogger's inbox but i *will* allow myself to defensively note that i never drink to the point of blacking out or puking. this isn't really relevant to the question i just have brain problems where i feel compelled to defend myself against imaginary assumptions.)

Okay i want to start this out by pointing out that I'm not particularly judgemental about drug use. Any drug use.

Basically, you do you. As long as you're not drinking and driving or otherwise doing harm (for instance, attempting to provide childcare while too intoxicated to do so safely) the only thing you have to worry about is what alcohol is doing to *you* and I was a smoker for like twenty years knowing full well how awful for me it was. If you want to drink and you know the risks, do what you want.

So, all that said, I mean this very gently (because it's clear that this is a sensitive issue for you) but it is not particularly difficult to find good data about risks associated with alcohol from sources less biased than American evangelicals.

For some research on the overall risks of alcohol consumption, here are some good, comprehensive, recent papers about the effects of alcohol on both individuals and populations.

Risk thresholds for alcohol consumption: combined analysis of individual-participant data for 599,912 current drinkers in 83 prospective studies

Population-level risks of alcohol consumption by amount, geography, age, sex, and year: a systematic analysis for the Global Burden of Disease Study 2020

Alcohol consumption and risks of more than 200 diseases in Chinese men

Getting occasionally blasted with friends is what's called "binge drinking" - which is defined as five or more drinks within two hours for men or four or more drinks in two hours for women, or reaching a BAC of .08 (the legal limit for driving in the US). This is a lot lower than most people think of when they think of "binge drinking" - that's five beers, an average bottle of wine, or two strong cocktails like a long island iced tea. Five or more drinks wouldn't put most people into blacking out or puking territory, and if you're a seasoned drinker a BAC of .08 may not feel like anything over the top or ridiculous, but it is a drinking binge nonetheless and there are specific risks associated with binge drinking. Here are some write-ups on binge drinking specifically:

Binge drinking: Burden of liver disease and beyond

Binge Drinking’s Effects on the Body

Effects of Repeated Binge Drinking on Blood Pressure Levels and Other Cardiovascular Health Metrics in Young Adults

I get the urge to feel defensive, it sounds like this is something that's concerning you and from the tone of your ask it seems like this is something that you were not aware of and has made you uneasy. (And it sounds like you're around a lot of people who ARE judgemental about alcohol consumption for reasons that have to do with them imposing their morality on you, which is a shitty position to be in)

But hey i wouldn't be a very good marginal anarchist if I wasn't about making sure that people have informed interactions with the world.

I still go out and get shitfaced every once in a while because it's fun and there are things that I can do to mitigate the risks (like making sure I'm around safe people, don't have access to a motor vehicle, and don't do it often) but I do so with the awareness that what I am doing could have some pretty bad consequences and I need to make sure to watch out for my health to keep an eye on the systems that drinking like that might impact. If you're gonna drink, you should be keeping an eye on yourself generally. If you're gonna drink heavily (even if it's only every couple of months), you have got to keep an eye on your liver, pancreas, and heart specifically.

[giritina]

A shocking amount of people who claim to hate radfems are in my mentions pushing the idea that transness is purely socially constructed. Like. "Gender is purely a social construct with no innate factors" is literally one of the basics of terf ideology. That's why they say you can't transition genders, because there's no such thing as "feeling like a gender." This debate is a repeat of the debate on innate sexuality that brought us conversion therapy from the right and political lesbianism from the left. As a person who previously fell for the idea of political lesbianism - the idea that sexuality was not innate but a political and moral choice - I can tell you that this idea leads to nothing but self-denial for the sake of group inclusion. It also leads to biphobia and other bigotry on the basis of the person's "choice" to "frame" their identity in the wrong way.

Even if we ignore that connection, the insistence that transness is a purely metaphysical, mysterious force that inhabits the body at random through no particular means is anti-science and anti-intellectual. It encourages the party engaging in systemic analysis of transmisogyny and transphobia to simply shut up because transness is unknowable. They imply there is no point in considering "man", "woman", and "nonbinary" to be categories born from a complex intersection of biology and culture. There's no point having any discussion at all about anything. Everything we perceive is a construct, and a construct can't be analyzed as something that has a comprehensive reality or impact. According to this type of reactionary constructs aren't useful tools to frame human experience, they're just get out of jail free cards for thinking about anything. Like other forms of science denialism, it positions itself as counter cultural while being perfectly in line with the status-quo. The science denialist leftist and the conversion therapist are alligned in their belief that transness can be changed within a person. They simply disagree on what should be done about it.

Your opinion about issues should be impacted by science. Otherwise, you'll be basing your theory on Vibes. Check out The Biological Contributions to Gender Identity and Gender Diversity: Bringing Data to the Table for a systematic review of the subject.

[soon-palestine]

This morning, a pediatric patient presented to our hospital in a state of diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA)—a life-threatening metabolic derangement resulting from severe insulin deficiency, characterized by profound hyperglycemia, metabolic acidosis, and critical electrolyte disturbances, most notably hypokalemia. Standard international guidelines mandate the immediate assessment of arterial blood gases (ABG) and serum electrolytes to accurately evaluate the severity of acidosis and guide appropriate fluid and insulin therapy.

Upon requesting an ABG analysis, we were informed by the hospital laboratory that the test was unavailable due to a depletion of essential reagents and supplies. This is the only remaining pediatric hospital in Gaza, following the destruction of Kamal Adwan Hospital, yet it is critically under-resourced and lacks even the most fundamental diagnostic capabilities.

In the absence of laboratory confirmation, we were forced to manage the patient empirically, relying solely on clinical assessment—an approach reminiscent of pre-modern medicine, where life-saving interventions were administered in the absence of objective biochemical data. This significantly increases the risk of mismanagement, particularly in a condition where rapid titration of fluid resuscitation, insulin therapy, and potassium replacement is imperative to prevent cerebral edema, cardiac arrhythmias, and hemodynamic collapse.

To date, essential medical supplies remain systematically obstructed from entering Gaza—a direct violation of international humanitarian law and the Fourth Geneva Convention, which explicitly prohibits the restriction of medical aid to civilian populations under siege. The consequences of this blockade are not abstract; they manifest in preventable pediatric mortality—children suffering, deteriorating, and dying due to conditions that, in any adequately equipped medical facility, would be entirely treatable.

What possible security risk do diagnostic reagents and life-saving medications pose? How can such deprivation be justified under any ethical, legal, or medical framework?

As a medical professional, I am overcome with frustration and despair at witnessing preventable suffering on a daily basis. In a world where medical advancements allow for unprecedented precision in patient care, we are being forced to practice medicine in the dark. And the ones who suffer most are the most innocent—children.