#York Publishing Co.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Rejoicing in Heaven

1 And after these things I heard the loud voice of a great multitude in heaven, saying, "Hallelujah! The salvation and the glory and the honor and the power belong to the Lord our God. 2 For true and righteous are His judgments; for He has judged the great whore, who corrupted the earth with her fornication, and He has avenged the blood of His servants at her hand." 3 And they said a second time, "Hallelujah! And her smoke shall ascend upward into the ages of eternity." 4 And the twenty-four elders and the four living creatures fell down and worshiped God, Who sits on the throne, saying, "Amen. Hallelujah!" 5 And a voice came forth from the throne, saying, "Praise our God, all His servants, and all who fear Him, both small and great."

6 And I heard a voice like that of a great multitude, and like the sound of many waters, and the sound of mighty thunderings, saying, "Hallelujah! For the Lord God Almighty has reigned.

7 Let us be glad and shout with joy; and let us give glory to Him; for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and His wife has made herself ready." 8 And it was granted to her that she should be clothed in fine linen, pure and bright; for the fine linen is the righteousness of the saints.

9 And he said to me, "Write: Blessed are those who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb." And he said to me, "These are the true words of God." 10 And I fell at his feet to worship him. Then he said to me, "See that you do not do this! I am a fellow servant of yours, and of your brethren, who have the testimony of Jesus. Worship God. For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy."

11 And I saw heaven open; and behold, a white horse; and He Who sat on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness He does judge and make war. 12 And His eyes were like a flame of fire, and on His head were many crowns; and He had a name written that no one knows except Him. 13 And He was clothed with a garment dipped in blood; and His name is The Word of God. 14 And the armies in heaven were following Him on white horses; and they were clothed in fine linen, white and pure. 15 And out of His mouth goes a sharp sword, that with it He might smite the nations; and He shall shepherd them with an iron rod; and He treads the winepress of the fury and the wrath of the Almighty God. 16 And on His garment and on His thigh He has a name written: King of kings and Lord of lords.

17 Then I saw an angel standing in the sun; and he cried out with a loud voice, saying to all the birds that fly in the midst of heaven, "Come and gather yourselves together to the supper of the great God 18 So that you may eat the flesh of kings, and the flesh of chief captains, and the flesh of mighty men, and the flesh of horses, and of those who sit on them, and the flesh of all, free and bond, and small and great."

19 And I saw the beast and the kings of the earth and their armies, gathered together to make war with Him Who sits on the horse, and with His army.

20 And the beast was taken, and with him the false prophet who worked miracles in his presence, by which he had deceived those who received the mark of the beast and those who worshiped his image. Those two were cast alive into the lake of fire, which burns with brimstone; 21 And the rest were killed by the sword of Him Who sits on the horse, even the sword that goes out of His mouth; and all the birds were filled with their flesh. — Revelation 19 | A Faithful Version (AFV) A Faithful Version Bible Copyright © 2007, 2009, 2010, 2011 York Publishing Company. All rights reserved. Cross References: Exodus 15:3; Deuteronomy 10:17; Deuteronomy 32:43; 1 Samuel 17:44; Psalm 2:9; Psalm 22:23; Psalm 62:11; Psalm 93:1; Psalm 104:35; Psalm 106:48; Proverbs 30:4; Proverbs 31:22; Isaiah 30:33; Isaiah 63:2-3; Ezekiel 39:17; Daniel 2:46; Matthew 1:20; Matthew 21:5; Matthew 22:2; John 1:1; Revelation 11:7; Revelation 13:1; Revelation 16:14; Revelation 19:11; Revelation 19:15; Revelation 19:17; Revelation 19:19

[generationexorcist]

The Woman Behind The World’s Most Famous Tarot Deck Was Nearly Lost In History

For centuries, people of all walks of life have turned to tarot to divine what may lay ahead and reach a higher level of self-understanding.

The cards’ enigmatic symbols have become culturally ingrained in music, art and film, but the woman who inked and painted the illustrations of the most widely used set of cards today – the Rider-Waite deck from 1909, originally published by Rider & Co. – fell into obscurity, overshadowed by the man who commissioned her, Arthur Edward Waite.

Now, over 70 years after her death, the creator Pamela Colman Smith has been included in a new exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York highlighting many underappreciated artists of early 20th-century American modernism in addition to famous names like Georgia O’Keeffe and Louise Nevelson.

CNN

[aphrvdisiac]

OFF TO THE RACES.

ellie williams, abby anderson x fem! reader.

SUMMARY | you are in a poly relationship with new york’s elite women, ellie williams and abby anderson, but living in the world of power, money, and lust possesses each one of you as the dynamic amongst you three becomes more volatile and violent.

WARNINGS | adult language. graphic violence. polyamorous relationship. abby calls reader “bunny,” ellie calls reader, “little lamb.” mentions of alcohol consumption and drug usage. possessive and obsessive behaviors. dark content: graphic details of t*rture and m*rder, men being pigs, controlling behavior. adult content: sub!reader x doms!ellabs, doing it in a confessional booth, god kink, fingering, degradation, overstimulation, edging, ball gag, strap-ons, face smacking, mommy and daddy kink, knife play w/ branding, double penetration.

NOTES | so brief explanation: this is my fic, off to the races. it used to be on my original, old account that fell under the user “angvlita” but unfortunately i deactivated that account so the fic no longer exists. anyways, all rights are reserved to me for this, and i do not want it published anywhere else. with that being said, please take into caution all the tags and warnings because this isn’t meant to be taken lightly whatsoever. ellie and abby are mean and cruel in here. thank you, and enjoy.

If Los Angeles was the city of Angels, then New York was home for all Hellbound.

You grew up in such a glistening city, where people’s facades weren’t as hidden, illicit affairs took place, and a fifteen year old was trying cocaine for the first time. It held beauty just like Lucifer, having greater cruelty and an ominous essence lingering beneath its soul.

You wish you didn’t get caught up in a reckless lifestyle, that you didn’t become so corrupted that you were a girlfriend to your two best friends.

Ellie Williams, daughter to architect and businessman Joel Miller, and Abby Anderson, daughter to a famous renowned surgeon Jerry Anderson. The two had great power, control, and wealth – they fucking lived off of it. They were cruel and vicious to everyone.

Ellie was a venomous scorpion, Abby personified as such a nefarious viper. The two together were threatening, and it all surprised you when they wanted you in their circle in the early start of Junior Year, easily befriending you.

You remembered it clear as day.

You were sitting at a table, reading Jane Eyre. It was your free period, and you had not much to do, finished with any assignments.

The silence you enjoyed was interrupted when two figures sat themselves down at the table, gaining your attention as you peered up at the book, and noticed elite scholars Ellie Williams, and Abby Anderson.

They were grinning at you, eyeing you like a predator did with their prey, a cascade of goosebumps running over your skin.

“Can I help you?” You asked, bookmarking your spot before closing the book, and setting it down.

You knew it came off rude and too sharp, but their appearance made you uncomfortable, and weirded out.

“We’ve been keepin’ an eye on you,” Ellie said, and your heart sank, not knowing exactly what that mean. “We aren’t here to ruin your life, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckled nervously, fidgeting with your Cartier bracelet. “You have quite the reputation.”

“So you know us?” Abby asked, and you shrugged, unsure of what else to say.

“We want to invite you out,” Ellie added, and your brows knitted together, utterly confused. How could you not be? It was a random invitation, and you didn’t have any prior interactions with them.

You just had Fine Arts Honors with Ellie, and English Literature with Abby — though, you never made any conversations with them, and you didn’t see the need to.

“Why? This is new, no?” You questioned, eyeing them back and forth in the moment the duo looked at one another, words kindling behind their eyes.

“Somethin’ about you is sweet… special,” Abby confessed, and a smile threatened to curl onto your lips. “You interest us.”

“Marrona, at 8PM,” Ellie stated, getting up with the blonde by her side. “Just come by, and if you still don’t like us, you’re free to go.”

“You’re trusting a stranger? Interesting,” you lightly joked, smiling to yourself. “The world must be ending, then.”

They smiled with you, a rare expression anyone could come across.

It was an unforgettable night that you thought of for a week before either of you approached each other again.

Many of your friends told you to not fall for it, that you’d be a laughing stock, and would only be ruined. You didn’t know how ruined you would become, and you simply wanted to know what it would be like to sit in their company.

You were sure it was because of your status — your mother was an heiress, and your father was a CEO of an advanced technology business. You were humble about your life, yet knew you had a higher position in money and glory than them. You were sure they wouldn’t just let anyone in, that they were more intelligent to let a random classmate of theirs be brought into their social circle.

The deeper you fell into their rabbit hole, you had become tainted, and cruel as them. You were their rotten apple, something they possessed and prized so admirably as you were theirs only. Before the relationship was even thought of, you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone else besides them, leaving you to drop all your closest friends, and submit only to the two girls.

Yet, they took care of you like no one else did — expensive gifts, abrupt trips to Europe, fancy dinners, and the sex they gave you.

God, the fucking sex.

It was them at the same time, or one coming to your place to claim you entirely. You didn’t mind it, no, you had become so immune to being theirs, you would please them.

You don’t exactly remember how the polyamory relationship came to be; you were getting closer with Abby, Ellie didn’t like it, and the two had come to the idea of sharing you, right before twelfth grade. You weren’t opposed to it, but hated the twisted repercussions that tied into it.

During all of Senior Year, you weren’t allowed to go out without them by your side, or at least one of your bodyguards. You couldn’t get drunk, only at home, and that’s it; they had this monologue about how dangerous the world is, and how they wouldn’t be able to forgive themselves if something happened to you.

You had no privacy, they always had a guy watching you from a distance if you went out with family, and tracked your location. Your only friends were whoever else was in their group, which wasn’t much whatsoever, so you were practically without anything.

When you all graduated, and you were planning to attend Columbia, you hoped some leniency would be kicked in from their part, but no — the two only got more dominant about everything, to the point they refused to let you share a dorm room with a girl.

“Oh my fucking god, I’m not going to fuck her!” You yelled. “You’re being dramatic; it is better for me to live on campus so I don’t deal with traffic every morning.”

“What if she tries something?” Ellie asked, sitting down on her couch with a glass of bourbon in her hand. “You know we are just trying to look out for you.”

“No, you’re being insane,” you stated, and she scoffed, eyeing Abby. “Both of you have really got to stop this shit. I need to make a career for myself, be my own person without your crazy bullshit jeopardizing it all.”

Abby got up, now towering over you as she grinned. “Such a brat you are,” she mocked, and you shivered, glaring at her. “After all this time, we hoped you would start being appreciative.”

“I… I’m more than grateful for the both of you,” you assured softly, frowning. “But please, I'd rather be in a dorm room than some penthouse where you’re being insufferable.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie asked, hastily standing up, and before you could speak, she grabbed your jaw. “Insufferable, huh?”

You whimpered, the grasp tightening, and worried she might crack a bone. “No… no,” you whispered, and the pair mockingly cooed at your panic.

Ellie shoved you into Abby’s arms. “Deal with her, I’m in a good mood today.”

Abby held onto your wrist, seating herself down, and bent you over her lap. “Gotta keep training you, ‘specially after all this time,” she mumbled, flipping up your skirt. “Starting to think we should just replace your ball with some soap, maybe raise up the punishments.”

“No, no,” you pleaded, peeking up at her. “I didn’t mean to say—”

“Don’t fuckin’ stare at me,” Abby spat, and you whined, looking away as you could feel her hands massage your ass. “You’re lucky it’s me being lenient, not her.”

Abby wasn’t wrong there — Ellie was more harsh with her punishment, would leave you in a puddle of tears, and it would be Abby that had to reel her back into reality. You recalled the moment when Ellie had you bent over the edge of the kitchen table, hitting your ass while she kept her thick rings on, and you were in tears by the end.

You didn’t talk to her for at least two weeks, but she repeatedly apologized, and was no longer able to strike you with no more than seven slaps, and if she did, Abby had to put her in check.

You never knew why you liked being punished like this, like a ragdoll of some sort, or why you let consequences happen to you. You were human, but something about these two keeping you in check was pleasuring, and comforting in a way.

The first hit made you squeal, kicking your feet in reaction. “Fuck!”

“Count, bunny,” she said, the nickname made your stomach turn. “I know you can do it.”

“One…” you shuddered, another strike coming after it. “Fuck— two!”

“Only doing five today, it’s okay,” she assured, kissing the back of your neck, and your ass was met with the third strike.

“Three!”

Another one.

“Four!”

And the last one.

“Five,” you moaned, your ass burning. “I fucking hated that.”

“Me too, bun,” Abby said, picking you up, and let you sit on her lap. “Let me look at my girl.”

She took your face into her hands, fingers brushing past your ears, and grinned. “There’s my bunny, are you okay?” She wondered sincerely, a frown tugged on her lips.

“‘M fine,” you muttered, resting your head on her shoulder as she held you. “Is Ellie mad at me?”

“You know how she is,” she reminded, and you huffed, nodding. “We love you, more than you’ll ever know. We wouldn’t be able to live if someone hurt you, or something horrible happened.”

“I know, didn’t mean to be rude,” you mumbled, and she sighed, kissing the side of your head. “I just feel like both your lives should be more than just me.”

“Oh, baby,” she sighed, bringing your head back up, and gazed at you with immense endearment, you could faint from it. “You are our life. Our religion, our air, everything we want and need.”

You grinned. “You mean that?”

“Of course. Now, let’s go see Ellie, yeah?” Abby suggested, and you agreed, trailing in front of her as you walked to Ellie's bedroom in her penthouse.

“Ellie,” you sang out, pouting. “Are you still mad?” You opened the bedroom door, finding her sitting on her desk chair with an electric guitar in her hands.

Ellie looked up at you the second you were in her presence, and she sighed, sitting the instrument aside of her. “Hey, little one,” she greeted, opening her arms for you. You rushed to her, perching yourself on her lap, and wrapped your arms around her neck.

“Sorry for being rude,” you mumbled into the crook of her neck. “I love you and Abby both.”

“Sweetheart, I know,” she rested her hand on the back of your head, her thumb caressing it. “We know what’s best for you, that’s why we take care of you unlike anyone else.”

Ellie wasn’t wrong there, and that saddened you. Your parents had always be mentally and emotionally distant; they were there physically, but always focused on their own issues. It was either your mother was caught up in her pill addiction, or your father having a new mistress.

There never really was time for you — you raised yourself for as long as you could remember.

Many would say you had no reason to hate your life when you have this trust fund, nepotism lifestyle, but you would trade all of that just for parental affection and care. Yet, that never came, and the only people who tended to your needs were Ellie and Abby.

They came into your life when you needed them the most.

“Our parents want a gathering tonight,” Abby walked into the room, clearly irritated. “First stop is church.”

“Church?” Ellie laughed. “Oh baby, it’s your parents that want that.”

You never understood why your parents went to church. They may have grown up religious, but the things you witnessed them doing led them to earning a one way ticket to Hell.

“We could have our fun,” Abby assured, grinning. “Isn’t being selfish and ungrateful a sin?”

Ellie picked your head up off her shoulder, forcing you to look at her. “Yeah… it is,” she smirked at your protesting whines, and patted your bottom. “Get home, and get changed.”

You walked inside the cathedral by your parents side, searching around for your girls. “Ah, there’s Jerry!” Your father pointed out, taking you and your mother to Abby’s dad. “Jerry!”

Jerry turned around, grinning at him, both hugging one another. You hopped to Abby’s side, smiling up at her. “Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey, baby,” she mumbled, gently pinching your arm. “Ellie is in the confessional booth.”

“What?” You asked. “Why?”

“You sinned,” Abby reminded, and you swallowed thickly as she leaned into your ear. “And you need to repent.”

Your parents were caught in conversation with Jerry, and you sighed heavily, rolling your eyes. You knew they wouldn’t pay much mind if you were gone for a bit.

“Don’t fuckin’ roll your eyes,” she spat, tightly seizing your wrists, and tugged you away with her. To your unfortunate luck, the confessional booth had its own room in the cathedral, and gradually spacious, giving you more than enough privacy.

“Let the fuck go of my wrist!” You shouted, and she halted her footsteps, turning around. “I can follow, ya’know? I’m not dumb.”

Abby ignored you, suddenly tossing you over her shoulder as you screeched, furiously kicking your feet. “Ellie’s going to love hearing this,” she taunted, and you zipped your mouth, giving up all protest.

Abby twisted open up the door to the room, putting you down on your feet, and slammed the door shut.

Ellie was leaning against the wall, joint in her mouth, and was wearing a black suit, a bralette underneath her fine blazer. “There’s our girl,” she beamed, yet her bright expression toned down when she took notice of Abby's unsatisfied attitude. “What did she do?”

“Rolled her eyes, being a brat,” Abby said, and you looked down in shame, not knowing why you kept digging a hole for yourself. “Don’t know why she keeps doing this. Maybe we’ve been too nice.”

Ellie hummed, burning her joint out on the windowsill before leading herself into the stall, her legs spreading as she sat down. “We’ll take our turns. Kneel before God.”

You only stood still, gazing up at her.

Abby’s hand curled around the back of your neck, getting a whine out of you. “The fuck is your problem today? Want to be ignored instead?” She wondered, and you shook your head. “It sure seems like that, bunny.”

“Bring her over here,” Ellie beckoned, and Abby guided you over to the auburn-haired girl, forcing you down to your knees. “Wearin’ such a pretty dress today. All for us, hm?”

You looked at her, hands resting on your thighs as you nodded. “Course I did. Wanted to be pretty for you both.”

“Hmm. Roll up your dress,” Ellie said, and you froze, not moving. She inched closer to your face, tilting her head. “Something wrong, honey?”

“No, ‘course not,” you muttered, fingers fiddling with the ending hem of your babydoll dress.

“Then listen,” Abby added in, and your breath shuddered as you bunched the skirt to your waist, exposing your bare cunt. “Won’t you look at that? She thought she was gonna get something.”

“Did you think that?” Ellie asked, and you hesitantly nodded, her cruel laugh ringing in your ears. “After how you’ve been acting all day? Silly girl.”

“Where’s your rosary?” Abby wondered, and you opened up your purse, scrunching it up in your palm. “Not even a pure girl anymore, just a depraved whore for us.”

Ellie grabbed the jewelry piece, wrapping it in between her fingers as the end dangled in your face. “Abby, next to me,” she ordered, and Abby took off her leather jacket, letting it drop to the floor, stepping in the stall.

You stayed kneeled, trying to put water to the fire you sparked.

The tip of Ellie’s combat boot hit under your chin, raising your eyes to hers. “Get over to her,” she cocked her head to the side, and you rushed up and over to the blonde haired woman, who grinned at you.

Abby pushed you down onto her lap, your back pressing up against her chest as Ellie pushed open the sliding barrier, mindlessly playing with your rosary. “Why are you here today?” She began, yet Abby shoved your legs open, one hand on your throat, and the other snaked down in between your thighs.

“F—Forgive me,” you stuttered, shivering to Abby's fingers glazing over your needy cunt, “for I have sinned.”

“Go on,” Ellie agreed, and Abby slowly pushed one finger into you. “What troubles you?”

Your head fell back onto Abby’s shoulder, squeezing harder on your throat as a warning. “Fuck… I—I’ve been selfish, sir,” you continued, whining to her teasing pace. “Cruel and ruthless to those who love me.”

“And why is that?” Ellie wondered, paying no mind to you or your noises. “Do they deserve it, little lamb?”

Abby put in a second finger, the pace now running a bit higher, but made sure to not give you entire satisfaction. “Do they deserve it, bunny?” She whispered in your ear, her thumb pressing on your bud. “Tell her now.”

“No, God no,” you whimpered, placing a hand over Abby’s wrist. “I’m just… just a brat— holy fuck, fuck me.”

“Using vulgar language in front of your God, little lamb?” Ellie teased, knowing what she was getting at.

She was your God — both of them were. They were your religion, devoting every piece of you to them, would do anything to have their forgiveness and love for eternity.

“I’m sorry, God,” you moaned, Abby’s fingers pounding into you as you were beginning to fall apart at the seams, grabbing onto her wrist. “Fuck— Forgive me, God. I need your forgiveness.”

“You have to earn it,” Ellie stated, and Abby breathily chuckled, her breath fanning against your skin.

“Want to be good for your Gods?” Abby asked, and you nodded, your face falling into the crook of her neck. “Gonna do anything just for us to fuck you, huh? ‘Course you are, baby. You’re filthy— look what we’ve done to you.”

A warm sensation ran in your stomach, down to your thighs as your body jolted on her lap. “Please, God,” you pleaded, tears at your waterline. “I want you, God. I’ll never sin again.”

Ellie hummed, looking at Abby. “What do you think?” She asked. “Does the whore deserve to be forgiven?”

“Might have to work a little harder,” Abby said, and you were lost in your head, your climax burning in your abdomen. “She’s going to break another commandment.”

“No, no,” you breathed, shaking your head. “I won’t do it unless God tells me to.”

“Is that right?” Abby cooed, and her free hand combed through your hair, grabbing it. Her fingers slipped out of you, tossing you down onto your knees again with a harsh thud, a soft weep eliciting from you.

Ellie stepped out of her side of the booth, moving to yours, and you heard the rustling of her and Abby’s pants, keeping your head down. A nude Ellie brushed past you, sitting down onto Abby’s lap, both of their seeping cunts shown to your eyes.

“Please us, little lamb,” Ellie said, and you slightly moved yourself closer, your mouth latching on Abby’s cunt, hearing a soft moan leave her. You slid two fingers into Ellie’s, who cursed under her breath, and the pair looked down at you as you stared right back at them, desperation shining in your eyes.

“Doing s’good, baby,” Abby gently praised, her breath jagged, and looped around Ellie’s waist to keep her in place. “Keep fuckin’ going like that.”

Your mouth switched between the two, lapping up their juices as they made out with one another, sweetly moaning into each other’s mouth. All you could do was admire them, kneeling obediently while you drowned your mouth in their juices, needing more than just this.

Ellie put her hand on top of your head, the end of your rosary dangling in between your eyes, and she rutted her cunt against your mouth, keeping it latched. You stuffed Abby with three fingers, enough to fulfill her, roughly thrusting them into her.

The rosary continued to stay in your vision, almost like a mocking coming from Ellie and God; that once a pure angel fell into the hands of the corrupted, and became just what and who they are.

But you loved it, you loved that they curated you into this way. All you wanted to do was please them, see how sensitive they could turn out to be.

You spent the remainder of mass baptizing yourself in between their thighs, drunk on the taste of their sweet pussies.

You had spent the next day at home, making sure you had things planned out for when you moved out for Columbia. Abby and Ellie had convinced you to live in a penthouse that was about a block away from the school, and you had agreed on the fact that it was better to be with people you knew than a stranger as they knew it made you easily uncomfortable.

Your parents had left randomly for vacation, staying at their place in Milan, leaving you alone with your cat. You didn’t mind the loneliness, it was something you well adjusted to as you got older, and you only ached for attention when it came to your girls, but they had their responsibilities that you couldn’t interfere with.

You had finished packing up your box of books, setting it in the corner of your bedroom. Your attention turned to the sound of your phone going off, the soft ringtone coming through. You grabbed your phone, grinning at the contact name of “Jesse.”

“Well if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker,” you teased. “What’s up?”

Jesse James and his girlfriend, Dina Woodward, were the only people Ellie and Abby trusted you with; which said plenty because they would kill anyone who they didn’t know, and tried to talk to you. He was good, despite the fact he came from a shit father, constantly got in trouble with the law, and blew money on anything. Dina was the only one who could put him in check, and you had grown close to her over the time of knowing him.

“I fuckin’ bought a club,” Jesse started off, and you scoffed in disbelief. “Turned that shit into a burlesque. She’s a beau, you have to come out and check it out.”

“Well, I can’t right now,” you denied, and he groaned. “I’m trying to make sure I have everything together before I leave for college.”

“Cry me a river, come on!” He begged, and you breathily laughed. “You are always so attached to Ellie and Abs, make time for me.”

“Is your girlfriend with you, at least?” You wondered, and he hummed in response. You looked at the time on your clock, reading “9:03PM”, and you sighed. “I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”

True to your word, you arrived at Jesse’s enriching club. You got out of the black cab, and stared at the sign that gleamed in pink neon “Carissima.”

You hummed softly to yourself, approaching the security guard at the front. “Friend of Jesse James,” you said, and he nodded, easily recognizing you. He opened up the door for you, thanking him, and moved inside, hearing the familiar melody of “I Put A Spell On You” by Nina Simone tune through the venue.

It didn’t take much to find Jesse, his arm wrapped around Dina’s shoulder as the two sat on a lounge chair in front of performers, their soft laughter knitting between the music. You walked up to the side of the furniture, their eyes averting to you.

“You made it!” Dina exclaimed, jumping up, and pulling you into a hug. “I’ve missed you. Feels like forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said, separating the hug, and gave a hast squeeze to Jesse before sitting on the side of Dina. “So, what made you buy this?”

“Good investment,” Jesse said, and you awed, chuckling. “My dad doesn’t agree, but it’s beautiful. These performers… mind blowing, a fascination to everyone in this room.”

“You tell Ellie and Abby?” You wondered as Dina handed you a cigarette, lighting it up for you. “They would love this, think you are a genius.”

“I thought you would bring them. Ya’know, since you’re attached to them,” he teased, and Dina smacked his arm, glaring at him. “Bad joke, fuck! But where are they?”

“Don’t know, I haven’t talked to them all day,” you answered, puffing out a blow. “But they got their shit to worry about, don’t like being in the way.”

“You’ve been their world since you met them,” Dina said, taking the stick from you. “However, it is scary how overprotective they are.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Jesse laughed. “Those two have always been frightening—”

“Yeah, but their care for her is… different,” she stated, and gazed back at you. “Known them since we were kids, and I can say they would kill for you.”

“So dramatic,” you joked. “They’re the closest people I have in life. They take care of me, know what’s good for me and I don’t know— I’ve never really had that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, handing you back the cigarette. “I just know they’re fucking you good.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go get a drink!” You beamed, inhaling the tobacco, and got up. “You need anything?”

They shook their heads, and you hurried to the bar, continuing to burn out the cancerous stick in a spare ashtray. You smiled at the bartender as she headed over to you.

“What can I get you, love?” She asked.

“Just a cosmo, please,” you said, and she hummed, turning to the drinks. You waited patiently, fingers tapping on the gradient countertop in thought.

A shoulder softly brushed past you, but you ignored the person, until they cleared their throat. “All alone here?”

You shivered to the voice of a man.

“With some friends,” you dryly answered, eyes focused on the bartender who had her back turned from you.

“That’s a shame. Woulda invite you to hang with me,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “You always still can.”

“No thank you,” you denied, shaking your head, and prayed for your drink to come quicker, only for the bartender to head into the stock room for a moment.

Oh, you felt sick.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Dina and Jesse lost in their conversation, completely oblivious to you.

Your phone was in your purse, and you were scared to even fiddle with it.

“I don’t bite, honey,” he assured, and your heart leaped into your throat as his hand touched your bicep. “Come on. A pretty thing like you should be having fun.”

“Please let go of me,” you said, yet harsh enough to come off stern. “I don’t like your hand on me, so get the fuck off.”

“Now don’t be a bitch,” he spat.

You finally looked at him, your body wanting to collapse on you. He was taller than you, about six foot three or so. Broad and muscular, completely fit. His eyes were dark, had a goatee on his face.

You thought about throwing up all over him just to get this over with.

You hoped people sitting around would notice, yet no one did, caught up in their own worlds. You yanked your arm back, and scoffed. “You don’t got the right to touch me, you fuck.”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” he threatened. “You come here in that little black dress, and expect nobody to fuck you?”

The bartender came back, and was the only one to notice this unsettling tension. “Hey, honey!” She called out, putting your order on the countertop. “Had to head into the back to grab more cranberry juice, I’m sorry.”

She kept her eyes locked on the man, a pair of scissors in her hand. “Can you hold onto my order for a second? I need to use the ladies room,” you said, and she nodded, making sure to keep the man secure in her radius.

You hurried into the bathroom, your shaky hands taking out your phone. Teardrops collected on the screen as you hit Abby’s contact, the first name on your recent call list.

It took only two rings until she answered. “Bunny?”

“Abby… abby,” you breathily whispered, sniffling. “Is Ellie with you?”

“Yeah, baby. We just got done with some things,” she said, and you sighed in relief. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… I’m at this club, Jesse’s club,” you began, sucking in a sharp breath. “And went to the bar to get a drink… this man came up to me, wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“What?” Abby’s tone sharpened. “Did he hurt you? Where the fuck is Jesse? Or Dina?”

“He just grabbed my arm. Jesse and Dina were just busy with each other, I was too far away for them to notice anything,” you stated clearly, wiping away your hot tears. “I don’t know if he’s still in here, but the bartender is keeping a close eye on him, and I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

“Stay in the bathroom, we’re coming right now,” she assured, and you hung up the call, sitting yourself on the porcelain seat, trying to compile all your thoughts and emotions.

As Abby brought the phone down to her lap, Ellie glanced at her. “What happened?”

“Someone fuckin’ weirdo touched her,” Abby exsperated, and static rang in Ellie’s ears, scoffing in disbelief. “Jesse opened up his own club, she was there, and went alone to get a drink.”

Ellie texted Jesse for the address, and Abby searched around the backseat compartment. “I don’t know if the gun is still in here,” Ellie said, and the blonde groaned in frustration. “We can’t go in there with one.”

“The one time you don’t bring your weapon,” Abby sighed.

“Got the address,” Ellie mumbled, opening up her phone. “Charles! Hit 7th avenue.”

“The fuck are we gonna do with this dude?” Abby asked, and Ellie grinned. “Talk to me, baby.”

“We fuckin’ kill him,” Ellie stated.

You passed time by playing games on your phone, the stress of it being enough to forget the short horror experience you just encountered. The shout of your name in the bathroom caught your attention, killing your high score in the process.

“Baby, where are you?” Ellie called out, and you rushed out of the stall, getting her attention. “Oh, there’s my girl.”

She hastily brought you into her arms, letting you cry into her shoulder as she held you, cupping the back of your head. “My brave girl, hm? So proud of you,” she praised, kissing your temple. “Abby and I are gonna take care of everything.”

You nodded, bringing your head back, and she smiled softly at you. “Do you have any party favors?” You wondered, and she sighed, shaking her head. “Please, just wanna wash off tonight.”

“Honey, you are not taking coke,” she said, and you frowned. “I know you are upset, but your body isn’t used to it, and you wouldn’t like it.”

“Yes I do! Remember when I did it off your ass on our ski trip in Aspen?” You recalled, and she kept denying you. “Please! Just this once. I’ll have Dina make sure I don’t do more than three lines.”

“Dina couldn’t even keep an eye on you right now!” She shouted, and you flinched, body tensing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just— You need to be careful.”

“Just three lines,” you repeated.

Ellie reached into her trouser’s pockets, fiddling with the bag, and handed it to you. “Go have fun, baby,” she said, and you kissed her cheek, thanking her before sprinting back out to Jesse and Dina.

The couple bounced up from their seats at your appearance, clear worry plastered on their faces. “Fuck, we’re so sorry,” Dina said, gently grabbing your wrists. “We were so caught up—“

“It’s fine,” you smiled, sitting down on the lounge seat, and popped open the bag of cocaine.

“Fuck, you’re doing lines? Haven’t seen you do that shit since the Debutante Ball,” she said, and you poured some of the white powder onto the table in front of you.

“Ellie and Abby don’t know about that,” you told her, and her eyes widened, looking at her boyfriend who only shrugged at her. “They would kill me if they knew the amount of drugs I’ve done behind their back.”

“You’ve only done cocaine, no?” Jesse questioned, and you only glanced at him over your shoulder, giggling. You took a random card out of your wallet, dividing the powder into neat lines, a dumb smile on your face.

“Jesse, can you go get my cosmo, please?” You asked, sweetness laced in your tone. “I deserve some of that with this shit.” He sighed, nodding, and getting up from his spot.

There were seven lines made, and you wiped off the collected powder from the edge of the card, sniffing it up your left nostril. You exhaled sharply, snickering, and traded the card in for a dollar bill. “You want some of this?” You offered, turning around to look at Dina, and she denied the offer, eyes focused on you.

You hummed, tightly rolling up the bill. “More for me, then.” You brought the paper up to your nose, aligning it with the first line, and took a heavy inhale, a strong burn hitting your nose. You sniffled, bringing your head up and leaned it back, shakily laughing.

“Easy there, babe,” Dina put a hand on your back, rubbing it. Jesse came back on time with your drink, handing it to you, and noticed the dollar bill next to the second line.

“Already started?” He teased, and you took a sip of the cocktail, eyeing to the drug. “I’m all good, treat yourself with that stuff.”

With you doing lines and being utterly distracted inside of the club, Abby and Ellie were on the top floor of the building, inside a storage room with a beaten man on the ground.

Abby took another kick to his gut, Ellie sitting in a chair with a cigarette in her mouth. “You like touchin’ females you don’t know!” Abby yelled, and he sobbed, restrained by cable ties, his right eyes kicked in. “Fuckin’ touching her like that, you aren’t getting away with this shit.”

Ellie took the gun out from the back of her trousers, lucky enough to find the weapon in the glove compartment by the driver. She flashed the object to the man’s eyes, a vile grin playing on her lips as she stared at him.

She got up, and stalked towards his limp body, standing by Abby’s side. “What’s your name, man?” Ellie asked, with her partner taking a hast note to her facade. “Got any kids or anything?”

“My name is Brandon,” he breathed, and Ellie nodded, squatting down to match eye level with him, letting the gun dangle in her hands. “Shit, dude, listen— I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think she was taken.”

“What makes you say that?” Abby questioned.

“A girl like that… wants attention,” he said, and the girls looked at one another before glancing back over to Brandon. “Can even tell she’s got lingerie under that shit. She’s a fuckin’ tease, a whore.”

Ellie hummed, reloading the glock in her hand, and chuckled. “I think I’m done with my cigarette now,” she mumbled, jokingly frowning as she played with the stick in between her fingers. “Too bad I don’t have an ashtray on me.”

Abby took out a switchblade, exchanging it for the gun. “Tell me when you need me to do it,” she said, and the auburn haired girl seized the man’s jaw, squeezing open his mouth as a wave of protests elicited from his throat.

Ellie pushed the bud to his tongue, and cruelly laughed at the garging scream that came out of him. “Keep fuckin’ talking shit!” She shouted, flicking open her switchblade, and held it to his throat. “Swallow that cigarette, wanna see if you still want to run your mouth!”

“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Abby chimed in, taking off her leather jacket. “You’re lucky we don’t kill you right now.”

Ellie put her hand over the man’s mouth, refusing to let him spit out her cigarette, only giving him the option to swallow it for good. She smiled, pleased with the simple act, and took her hand back. “Got anymore shit to say?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side.

Brandon sniffled, jagged sobs intertwined with his heavy breathing. “You’re both fucking insane,” he began, trying to gather oxygen into him. “She’s going to leave you. You’re going to drive her away with this shit.”

“We’d like to see her try,” Abby said, and Ellie stood up, putting herself aside to let her do as she pleased. She sat back down, opening up her phone to text Jesse.

E: How is she?

J: Two Cosmos in. Had seven lines. Get down here soon.

E: Don’t let her strip her clothes off. We don’t need a sequel to Barcelona.

J: Me and Dina can’t handle her, only you can. She won’t shut the fuck up about you.

E: Don’t let us down again. P.S., may need a mop in here soon.

She tucked her phone away, and admired Abby damaging the man. She was ruthless, yet composing herself enough not to kill him — just yet. His face had molded into a pulp, unrecognizable to anyone as his blood painted on Abby’s hands, his weak pleas being ignored by the pair.

Abby and Ellie got high off of this, hurting or killing anyone who made you uncomfortable. They had been getting away with it for so long, and you had been gullible to it, never blinking an eye to their unknown actions.

They would do this over and over again, even if something was your fault within it, they dealt with you in their own way — but no one was ever to lay a hand on you, and you knew that too.

Abby snagged his wallet out of his pocket, opening it up. “Brandon James,” she announced, pulling out his cash, and putting it in her pockets. “Gonna use this to buy her something pretty and nice.”

“Where does he live?” Ellie asked.

“Won’t you look at that!” Abby said, pressing her boot to his face. “He’s a rich brat. Lives in that building next to yours, Els.”

Ellie chuckled. “Money probably got him out of his shit. Isn’t that right, Brandon James?”

“Please,” is all he could manage to say, dizzy and lightheaded.

Ellie returned over to him, and stood over him before lowering herself. “This may hurt,” she said, signaling for Abby’s help, who obliged by opening the man’s mouth. Ellie grinned, tugging at the tip of his tongue, and began to sever it with her switchblade.

He screamed, thrashing around, but was overpowered by the two women, entirely useless to their strength. “This isn’t even the worst part,” Ellie muttered, grunting as she went on to cut off his tongue. “You made her cry, ya’know? Poor baby was so scared, and didn't know what to do.”

His tongue ripped out, being put to the side of his head. She got up, staring at the blood of her hand, and could only curl her hand into a tight fist.

He fuckin’ frightened her, she thought to herself. He deserves to die.

He was already facing death in a horrid, slow manner, and the last thing he would see was these two, towering over him; utterly indulged by his death, and letting it fuel their ego.

“Kill him. Jesse wants us back,” Ellie ordered, and Abby aimed the gun at his face, her finger carelessly pressing down on the trigger. His face blew, and they both hummed, taking in the view. “Good job. Already called the crew to come get him.”

Stuck yet hast of cleaning themselves up, alcohol and drugs overrode your brain, consuming you. You were sitting on the edge of the couch, staring at the dancers on the stage who moved with elegance, and passion. Each one of them were beautiful, confident in their own way that made your heart beat.

“Wish I was as good as them,” you said, sipping on Jesse’s cup of scotch. “I can fuckin’ dance, but not like that.”

“They’re giving a simple show,” Dina noted, and you blew a raspberry, glaring at her.

“They’re doing much more than that,” you retorted, and inhaled one last bump, coughing. “I… I want to go up there.”

“You’re not,” Jesse denied, and you pouted. “Ellie and Abby would murder you, and then me. We don’t want Barcelona to happen.”

“Oh my gosh! That trip was so fun!” You recalled, warmly smiling at the memory. “Wait, what happened?”

“You drank too much, got lost in the crowd dancing with too many people,” Dina said, and you zoned out, attempting to have any recollection. “Then, you bought everyone shots, danced on top of the bar, and flashed your ass to them.”

“Okay, that’s not bad,” you giggled, shrugging. “I’m going up there!”

“Do you have a death wish?” Dina wondered, and grabbed your wrist, preventing you from standing up. “Your girlfriends are going to kill you if you do some sort of strip tease up there.”

“They’ll get over it,” you said, freeing your wrist from her hold. “They’re not here, anyways, and they won’t do shit about it.”

Jesse and Dina sighed, giving up all attempts and let you run off onto the stage. The burlesque dancers beamed at your presence, letting you stand in the middle as you were too mind numbed to understand what you were doing, just knowing you wanted to have fun.

The song and crowd were an echo, intoxication burning into your body, controlling each thing you did. You sheepishly grinned, your hand reaching to the side of your dress, and pulled down the zipper.

“No, no!” Dina shouted, and Jesse mumbled multiple curse words, sipping down the last of his drink. “Oh, we are so dead.”

Abby and Ellie appeared right next to them, at the exact time you were shimming off your dress, and were exposed in your garter belt, stockings, and undergarments. “What the fuck did we say!” Abby shouted, and the couple sighed, watching in horror with the two girls while you were oblivious to them.

People in the club cheered for you, a few getting their wallets out. You laughed, your vision a blur as you showed off your body, letting your hands run all over your body.

Your girlfriends watched attentively, millions of thoughts piling on top of each other, thinking of how to get off the stage, and back home. They weren’t going to punish you while you were clearly out of your mind, but that gave them enough time to think of how to handle you.

They just fucking murdered someone for you, and your flashing your body to strangers. You were more than ungrateful at this moment.

The dancers on stage encouraged you to do what you wanted, cheering you though they knew you were not intact with reality. “Should I take off my bra?” You questioned, and the people in front yelled in agreement, earning a small laugh out of you. “Yeah? Flash my tits for New York?”

“What the fuck is she saying?” Jesse asked. “Go get your girl before she turns this into a riot house.”

Abby and Ellie both rushed to you, having to fight through a crowd just to reach the steps to the stage. Your hands fidgeted with the hooks of your bra, and before you could strip it off, they got to you on time. “Oh, it’s my girls!” You slurred, hiccuping as you laughed, and blushed in shame. “How long have you been here?”

Ellie took off her blazer, tossing it over you as Abby picked up your dress from the ground. The crowd booed and groaned at your escort as you only waved at them, blowing a kiss. “Bye Dina and Jess! Love you both so much!” You yelled, and squealed from being abruptly thrown over Abby’s shoulder. “Ow, my stomach!”

The limo was parked outside, and the chauffeur opened up the door, Abby throwing you onto the seat but made sure you didn’t bump your head. Ellie climbed in right behind her, the door shutting.

“Hiii,” you slurred, continuing to giggle. “You like my outfit?”

“Who gave you coke?” Abby asked.

“Els!” You said.

“Ellie, we talked about this!” Abby protested, and the auburn shrugged. “She can’t do that shit unattended.”

“I’ve done it so many times without you both,” you confessed, and their eyes snapped at you. “You made me this way — fucking corrupted, and shit. I am your blessing and nightmare.”

“You’re drunk,” Ellie sighed. “You need to rest when we get home.”

“Why, daddy?” You asked, and Ellie reddened at the nickname. “I know you both want to hurt me. I was bad tonight, disrespecting you both. How silly of me.”

“Fuckin’ watch it, bunny,” Abby spat, and you laughed. “I mean it.”

“Whatever. You’re idiots,” you mumbled, and Ellie had thinner patience than Abby did — meaning one more insult would cause her to take you in the car. She tossed your dress at you, eyes boring into you. “You could just hand it next time.”

“You are one more backtalk from getting it,” Ellie warned, and your smile slowly faded. “Anything else you need to confess before we deal with you in the dawn?”

“Oh, I can’t have a life of my own!” You realized, carelessly putting back on your outfit.. “Can’t take drugs without your eyes following me. Can’t even hang out with someone without a bodyguard being there! So fucking annoying!”

“If it’s so annoying, why stay?” Abby asked.

You went silent, looking away from the both of them, and finished throwing on your dress, slouching in your seat. “Only ones who take care of me,” you murmured, so soft and quiet, pouting too. “Make me feel special.”

“Yeah, and we’re the only ones who will put up with you this way,” Ellie added, and you nodded, tears welting in your eyes. “Who else is gonna do that? Tell us.”

You shook your head. “No one… no one,” you mumbled, chewing on your lower lip. “Can… Can I sit on your lap? Please?”

Ellie heavily sighed before giving in, beckoning you. You practically hopped into her lap as you wrapped your arms around her neck, nuzzling your face into her chest.

You fell asleep on the ride back to the shared penthouse.

Sunlight crept into your eyes, taking you out of your gentle slumber. You groaned, stuffing your face into the pillow, and felt warmth on both sides of you. Your eyes slowly parted, finding Ellie’s tattooed arm dangling over your chest, Abby’s looped around your waist.

You were trapped in between them, no way out. Your head pounded, your nose stuffy, and dying in sickness. You stayed still, trying to resurface last night's events, yet only blur spots flickered in your head. You whimpered, loud to drag Abby out of her slumber, her eyes adjusting to the sight of you.

“Hey, bunny,” she whispered. “You okay?”

“Did I drink last night?” You asked, and she weakly chuckled, nodding.

“And you did cocaine,” she muttered, and she brought her hand up, resting it on the side of your face. “You are in trouble.”

You panicked. “Whatever I did—”

“Baby, you are okay,” she assured, thumb caressing your cheek. “But you said some rude things. All we plan to do is spanking, that’s about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you frowned, and she kissed the side of your head. “Hope that’s the only stupid thing I did.”

“And you stripped and performed at a burlesque club,” she shared, and your eyes widened, whining in embarrassment. “Ellie nearly ripped your head off in the car.”

You looked over at Ellie, and grinned. “I’ll make it up to you both,” you promised, pressing a kiss to her lips, and she smiled, nodding. “I’m going to clean myself up, I feel a bit nauseous.”

“We had your things moved and unpacked yesterday,” Abby said, and you sat up, stretching out your arms.

“You broke into my house late at night, and got everything settled that quick?” You laughed. “I’m still a month away from attending school, and you’re already locking me down.”

“Better to get it done now,” she acknowledged, and you got up from the bed, padding over to the bedroom’s bathroom, closing the door behind you.

It took you only about thirty minutes to clean up, unimpressed by how worn out you looked. Your lipstick smeared, eyeliner and mascara cluttered around your eyes, your breath reeking of alcohol.

The shower was enough to relax your body, yet still felt sick, considering you needed a meal. You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and stepped in front of the sink.

You found an unopened toothbrush waiting for you, and you grinned, opening it up. You turned on the faucet, and laid down a portion of toothpaste on your toothbrush, running it under the water shortly after.

You brought the object into your mouth, and used your free arm to pick up your pajamas. You walked over to the walk in closet, and looked around for the hamper, only to find it shoved into the corner.

Peeking over the basket, you noticed a white shirt stained with some red on it. It grabbed your attention, looking too crimson to be considered red wine, or anything else.

You just shrugged it off, putting your clothes over it, and went back to brushing your teeth. “Hey Abs,” you called from the bathroom. “What kind of shit did you get into last night?”

“What do you mean?” She shouted back, the loud conversation awakening Ellie.

“One of your shirts is stained,” you said, and Abby inhaled sharply, Ellie shooting up to look at her girlfriend. “Did I fall and eat shit, and get blood over one of you?”

“Honey, you did,” Ellie lied, voice groggy and hoarse. “I had to carry you inside, you had blood coming out your nose.”

“But I have no bruises or anything?” You realized, spitting out the paste, and cleaned up your toothbrush and mouth. You changed into shorts and tee before walking back into the bedroom. “Did you guys get into a fight last night?”

They went silent, and you got into the middle of them on the bed, going back and forth looking at them.

“You had an incident last night,” Ellie said, and your brows furrowed. “A man was being a fuckin’ dick, you called Abby, and we handled it.”

“Oh what, you fucking killed him?” You joked, and they laughed dryly with you, but enough to make it believable. “If you beat him, you just have to say that.”

“We handled it,” Ellie repeated, and moved herself closer to you, putting her hand on your cheek. “Now we need to handle you.”

You rolled your eyes, bitterly scoffing.

“Fuckin’ roll them again,” she dared, and Abby laid back against the headboard, letting everything unravel. “Always going to be a brat? Even when we’re so good to you?”

Your face softened into a doe expression, tilting your head to the side. “Doesn’t that make you want to fuck me?”

“We won’t even touch you if that’s what you're trying to accomplish here,” she taunted, and her hand snaked up to the side of your head, tightly gripping your hair. “When are you going to learn, little lamb? Is what we do for you not enough?”

“It is,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? Then why do you keep acting like it isn’t?” She asked, and eyed over to Abby. “What should we do with her?”

“Break her,” Abby said, getting up from her spot. Ellie grinned, turning her head back towards you, and your cheek was met with a harsh slap. You gasped, and her hand slid down to the back of your neck, pushing your body onto the bed.

“Fuckin’ strip,” Ellie spat, and you whimpered, but obliged. You fiddled with the ending hem of your shirt, taking it off, and your fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and pajama shorts. “Need you on all fours.”

You huffed under your breath, glad that she couldn’t see you roll your eyes again. Your clothes piled down onto the ground, letting your knees sink into the mattress, your chest laying flat as your ass was lifted to her eyes for display.

“Baby, you’re fucking soaking,” Ellie cooed with Abby returning on time, able to hear the clicking of objects. “Let’s hold off on gagging her until she wants to say some shit.”

Abby moved to your eye level, grinning. “You want to keep being a desperate whore?”

“I’ll get my satisfaction either way,” you assured, and she inhaled sharply, eyes snapping into Ellie’s. The auburn handed her an item, noticing the pink ball. “Wait, wait!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Abby seethed, maneuvering your face and brought it up, fastening up the ball gag. “You’ve really fuckin’ done it this time, bunny. And Ellie is going to handle you, not me.”

You swallowed thickly, your doe eyes shining with pleas but the blonde dismissed you, tossing your face back onto the bed.

Both girls had stripped themselves bare, Ellie positioned behind you as Abby sat in front of you, her cunt for you to gawk at, but forbidden to please.

In a sharp breath, you felt thick silicone push into you, causing your cunt to stretch. You cried, yet it was mumbled, and Abby laughed at you. “Gonna deny you everything, honey,” Ellie muttered, her hands grasping onto your cheeks for support as she carelessly thrusted into you, breaking into you. “Need to make you cry, need to know you’re fucking place with us.”

“We could easily get rid of you,” Abby continued on, and your brows knitted together, shaking your head. “Could’ve fucking disposed you months ago, but no. Here we are, still putting up with your bratty ass.”

You cursed and moaned breathlessly, the pain turning into a bliss as Ellie’s strap pounded into you. “Wouldn’t want that, huh?” She asked, and you cried in response. “Course not, honey. No one fuckin’ loves you like we do.”

You stared at Abby with teary eyes, your hand aching to touch her, only for the blonde to slap it away. “No, take what you are getting right now,” she warned, and you nodded, your hips rolling and swaying with the rhythm of Ellie’s thrusts. “Won’t ya look at that? Little bunny just can’t get enough.”

Your hands grasped onto the messy bed sheets, nails digging into them. You stuffed your face into the material, lewd noises eliciting from you through the ball gag, almost feeling as if your body was jolted with electricity the moment Ellie’s strap found your orgasmic area.

“She’s enjoying this too much,” Abby pointed out, and Ellie hummed, all movement being halted. You groaned in protest, and she switched around your body, laying you flat on your back. She straddled herself on top of you, intimidating you with how she towered over you.

She popped the gag out of your mouth, your lungs engulfing fresh air. “Oh, little lamb,” she softly whispered, and smacked your face again, seizing it afterwards. “You got me upset, you know that? Treating me like shit.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, the strike burning your cheek before she placed another one. “Fuck!”

“You’re sorry?” She repeated, almost as if she didn’t trust you. “For which part, honey?”

“Just… just wanted to get a rise,” you admitted, breathing heavily. “Couldn’t ask for it.”

“Look where that landed you,” she said, and hit you once more, your head spinning. “You going to apologize to Abby, hm?” She climbed off of you, her hands guiding you around to face the blonde. “Say sorry, baby.”

You were a crying mess, and weren’t even at the worst part yet. Though you were scared, you were aroused; maybe you were as depraved as they were. You enjoyed the sadistic acts they brought onto you, wanting to be all theirs to use, and play with.

You were their girl at the end of the day, nothing could change that.

“I’m sorry, mama,” you mumbled, and Abby hummed, careless to your apology. “Please, mama. Didn’t mean it, I’ll be better.”

“You need to start acting right,” she said, and you nodded, mumbling promises through your sobs. “You aren’t able to leave us, you know that, right?”

“I won’t,” you reassured, sniffling. You knew that’s what many people wanted, that they knew you couldn't be without these two girls, simply as if they were your life support.

Everyone knew it.

“Where’s your blade?” Abby asked, and Ellie gestured to the night stand. She opened up the drawer, taking out her prized switchblade, something she always carried with her, but you didn’t know why. “Got to mark our girl.”

Ellie grabbed her knife, flicking it open, and she settled herself in between your thighs. She was grinning to herself, yet so was Abby, the two only knowing what they had done the previous night with the weapon, and you were clueless to it all.

“Need you to be a big girl for me,” Ellie stated, and you sucked in a sharp breath, the tip of the switchblade pointing into your right inner thigh, beginning to carve into your skin. “Right there, baby. Doing s’good for us, focus on mama.”

Abby scooted closer to you, putting your head on her lap. “Don’t cry, bunny. It’s gonna be over soon.”

Ellie branded her initial firstly into your right thigh before moving onto your left inner thigh, starting to cut Abby’s into it. You were trying your best to compose your body, squirming and softly sobbing to your skin being pierced.

“Mama, it hurts,” you pouted, and she caressed your cheek, looking down at you. “I know I’m your girl.”

“Just so you remember,” Abby reminded, groping your breasts. “Sometimes you forget, baby. We can’t keep repeating ourselves.”

You only nodded, melting into her gentle touch. Ellie threw her knife on top of the pile of clothes, smirking at initials. “Ah, now we can give you what you want,” she said, and you sighed in relief, a smile playing on your lips.

Dots of blood appeared on the wounds as the girls got up from the bed, opening the bottom drawer of the night stand. You stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the burn that scorned, and a large hand pressed onto the side of your body, shifting you around.

“Come on, baby,” Abby whispered, positioning you on your knees that sunk into the bed, and could feel her bare chest brush on your back. “Need you to spread yourself for us, you can do it.”

“You’re our girl,” Ellie promised, kneeling in front of you, and cradled your face into her warm hands. “Don’t know what we would do if you tried to leave us.”

Abby wetted her fingers, spitting down on your tight hole as she pushed two fingers into it to start you off. You roughly gasped, your body nearly faltering. “Stay steady, princess,” she said, moving her fingers at an easy pace. “Gotta prepare you for my cock, I need to make sure you can take it nice and sweet.”

Your face stayed in Ellie’s hands, trying to keep you focused on her. “Make sure to keep yourself spread for mama,” she told you, and you nodded, your shaky hands clawed down on your ass as you kept it spread open for Abby. “You can take it, you always do. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

“Yes daddy,” you muttered, and Abby’s fingers popped out of you. She put her hand back on your shoulder, guiding you back in the same moment she let her strap harshly sink into your whole. You cursed under your breath, tears welting in your eyes, and Ellie cooed, keeping your face in place.

Abby didn’t move further, letting your hole take in all of her, and nodded at Ellie. She dropped her hands, hooking your arms around her neck as she filled your hot cunt with her strap, and your body shuddered, your face collapsing down onto her chest. “No no, baby,” she said, shaking her head. “You gotta show us how much you want us. Fuck yourself on our cocks.”

“Too stuffed,” you mumbled, and Abby’s hand reached for the front of your neck, tugging your head back.

“Show us how needy you are, pathetic bitch,” Abby spat, and you whimpered, but compiled, gently bouncing yourself on both silicone objects. “Yeah, that’s it, bunny. Fuckin’ take everything we give you.”

Ellie’s was captivated by the way your cunt swallowed her strap, dripping and soaking it already. “This is all you wanted, right?” She taunted, breathlessly chuckling. “Just wanted us to make you cock drunk, for us to treat you like the dumb whore you are.”

“Y—Yes, yes!” You choked out, rolling your hips as your body began to endure the scorching pleasure. “Oh my god, feels s’fucking good, please.”

“You’re barely fuckin’ two minutes in on fucking yourself,” Abby laughed, bringing your head back and laid down on her shoulder, forcing you to look up at her, “And you’re already falling apart. Can even hear how wet your pussy is.”

“Want to be fucked, please,” you breathed, on a brink of sobs. “Can’t do it on my own.”

“You have to earn it, love,” she stated, and grinned. “Show us how bad you need us, want us to fuck your pretty holes.”

You pouted, and she shoved your head back forward, a spin of dizziness whirling in your brain. Ellie sadistically smirked in front of you, her hands laid on your thighs, and tilted her to the side. “Looks you’re about to cry, little lamb,” she teased, and you kept heavy eye contact as your holes stretched further with every desperate bounce. “Got nothing to cry about, honey. You brought this on yourself, you know that.”

“S—said sorry, daddy. I’m sorry,” your breath shook, sobs threatening to spill from you. You were overfilled with needs, feeling as if you were in heat, and only they could put the fire out. You could fuck yourself good, but they could make you feel orgasmic tides crash into your soul, and take you in one.

“Only saying sorry ‘cause you’re not getting what you want,” Ellie said, and you were quick to deny it. “Don’t fuckin’ lie, you know how much we hate that.”

“Please, please,” you begged. “I’ll be so good, won’t be a brat ever again.”

“Fucking lying again,” Ellie scoffed, and Abby grinned, smacking your ass. “Don’t worry baby, we like when you are; means we get to see you cry and break.”

You were stuck in the middle of these two, falling apart on their cocks as they observed you, waiting for you to break down into sobs. This was their whole pride, everything they fucking thrived off of, and if it made them the happiest they’ve ever been, you would them hurt you over and over again.

Your bouncing turned rapid, breasts in sync, and porngraphic noises drawing out of you. Your sensitive spots were being hit at, your eyes rolling back, and could feel heat pooling in your abdomen. Your hands reached out for one of them, but they denied you of it, leading you to fall into pits of sobs.

“There it is,” Abby growled. “Just what we wanted.”

“Can’t do it,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “Please, need mama. Need your help, please.”

“Yeah, bunny? Need us to take over?” She asked, mockery tangled in her tone. “Can’t use that silly brain of yours, huh? Our poor baby that’s useless.”

Her words mixed in with the fire that bubbled inside of you, expanding into your thighs. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you babbled, choking on your tears. “Need it s’bad, please. Just fuck me.”

Ellie halted your movements, and kissed your cheek. “We got you, honey. Let us do whatever we want, okay? We need to fill your holes, want to see it leak out of you.”

The duo situated themselves before handling you to stretch your form better, your knees locking place to keep you up. Abby braced her hands on your waist before her strap brutally thrusted into you, Ellie following the same tempo shortly after.

You could feel yourself being split open, Abby’s hands residing on your hips as Ellie’s let hers rest on the sides of your breasts. Their noises were shaky, rough, and undeniably lewd, a string of curses muttering out of them.

They would always be hypnotized by you, your body, and how fucking well you always took them. They would fuck you hours on end, and they have before, but they couldn’t get enough it. It was a fucking drug, worse than any they’ve taken. Everything about you was addicting and pure perfection to their eyes, knowing that they would be the only ones who could see you crumble under them like this, let them take control of you, and tear you apart.

They wanted to fucking spend the rest of their life in your pussy, fucking destroying it, and letting it cry with you.

Raw lust was a firestorm on your skin, sinking into your body, and coursing through you. Your climax was overrode, about to collapse on you, and take you entirely, just needing to be free. Your legs trembled, slowly weakening, and a muscular arm snaked around your waist to lock you in.

“Our pretty girl needs to cum,” she acknowledged, and Ellie’s fingers furiously hooked around your throat, squeezing it. “What do you think, babe? We let her cum?”

“Don’t know if she deserves it,” Ellie said, and your sobs were uncontrollable; your body was breaking, haze clouded in your head, and your high was unbearable over the limit. “You want to cum, little lamb? ‘M having too much fun seeing you like this.”

“Wanna cum, need to cum,” you blubbered, breath hallowed, and could feel them so far into you, you could almost swear they were poking at your stomach. “I’ll be so good forever. ‘M your girl, only yours; won’t ever be ungrateful again.”

Ellie grinned. “You mean that, honey?”

You mindlessly nodded, agreeing anything just so you could cum — it was fucking torturous.

“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Abby said, and you exhaled in relief, your body relaxing to her permission. Like a violent hit, your high crashed out of you causing your body to jump and shudder. Abby kept her arm around you, the pair not being done with you until they came.

You could hear the sploshing of your juices as Ellie viciously rammed into you, Abby’s cock abusing your tight hole with absolutely no remorse. You were there, letting yourself be their garbage waste, waiting for them to fill you up.

“Imagine if we could fuckin’ put a baby in her,” Abby laughed, her moans knitted into it. “Make her our bitch forever, wouldn’t be able to leave us then.”

“That what you want, angel? For us to make you a pretty mommy?” Ellie asked, and you blankly agreed, braindead and numb. “Keep you trapped forever, nowhere to fuckin’ go.”

Abby and Ellie always considered that; having a family with you, though they never practically discussed it with you, or if that’s what you wanted. They truly wanted you in their life forever, needed you in every way that would kill them if they couldn’t have it. And if you did try to exit out of their lives, they would find a solution to reel you back in.

“Mama gonna fill your hole, ‘kay?” Abby warned, and you hummed, falling in and out of reality. Ellie left her on your throat as extra leverage as she continued to hammer herself into you, her own climax trailing behind the blonde’s.

A symphony of vulgar, raw noises echoed throughout the bedroom, and your second peak surfaced in the depths of your belly, your body frail and trembling.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” Ellie cried out, her nails clawing into your skin, and Abby’s hands crept down to your cheeks, clawing into them. Your skin was running hot and wild, their body heat radiating onto you as the room smelt of filth and sweat, shameless moans and whimpers wailing out of all three of you.

Your cunt and hole were stuffed with cum from their straps with Abby and Ellie’s climax dripped out of their sweet pussies. They pushed themselves out of you, and you fell back on the bed, gathering lungfuls of breaths.

“Won’t you look at that?” Abby said, her and Ellie mesmerized by their cum leaking out of your holes, their initials branded into your thighs. “So fuckin’ pretty, all for us to look at.”

“Head… hurts,” is all you could manage to say, curling up into a ball.

The girls took off their object, dropping it to the floor as they separated to obtain things for you. Abby went to the kitchen, grabbing cold water, painkillers, and a box of cherries for you; Ellie was in the bathroom, wetting a rag, and seized the first aid kit.

They rushed to your side in under a minute, worried that they might have finally done it this time.

“Baby, you with us?” Ellie panicked, and you nodded, sleep wanting to take you. “Can you sit up for us, please?”

“Can’t,” you whimpered, and Abby sighed, helping to pick you up. She kissed the side of your head, holding you sit up while Ellie aided you.

“You did so good for us, sweetheart,” Ellie cooed, running the cloth over your aching cunt and hole as you hissed in response. “I know, I know. Just need to make sure we clean you up well, okay?”

Abby brought up the glass of water to lips, stroking the side of your head while you took slow sips. “There we go, there’s our tough girl,” she whispered, and opened up the bottle of painkillers, inserting two pills in your mouth, returning the glass back to your mouth afterwards. “We’re so proud of you. You’re okay, bunny, we’re almost done.”

Ellie soothed your wounds with hydrogen peroxide, putting bandaids over it after. She put a chaste kiss to your hip, and you smiled small, thanking her. “You want to get some rest?” She asked, and you nodded. “Okay, honey, let us change the sheets while you eat some food, yeah?”

Abby carried to the loveseat sofa that sat in the corner of the bedroom, handing you the box of cherries as she helped out Ellie. The two weren’t even cleaned up, but made sure you were comfortable and okay before they were.

You wanted to cry.

They’re so fucking perfect, you said in your head.

You had eaten about five cherries by the time they fixed up the mattress, and put new sheets on top of it. You set the food next to you, and Abby returned to you, scooping you into her arms as you grasped onto her, sitting you on the edge of the bed.

Ellie picked out a new set of pajamas for you, changing you into new underwear, and a soft, pink nightgown. “Get some rest, and we’re gonna get ourselves fixed, ‘kay?” She said, guiding you under the duvet covers, and made sure you were tucked in. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

You hummed, your eyes drooping, and let rest take over you. You felt them press a loving kiss to your forehead before you passed out.

You could hear your ringtone tune, lulling you out of your slumber. You let it go through as it shut up a few seconds later, and you groaned, trying to fall back asleep.

Then, the ringtone came back, and the buzzing added onto it. Your hand reached for your phone, finding it laying next to you. You grabbed it, squinting to who was calling.

Joel Miller, the contact name flashed.

Why the fuck was Joel calling?

You noticed the time, seeing it to be 4PM — how fucking long were you asleep for?

You swiped the button right, bringing the device up to your ear. “Hello?” You mumbled, clearly exhausted and groggy.

“Hey, kid. I was wonderin’ if Ellie was with you?” He asked, trying to sound calm, but wasn’t. You instantly sat up, finding a note on the nightstand, and you picked it up.

Abby and I went out to get some things. Be back as soon as we can. Love you always, sweet girl.

Xo, Ellie.

“Um, no,” you answered, putting the note down. “Why? Did something happen?”

There was silence for a moment. “The cops are here, asking for her.”

“Cops. Why?” You asked, fear streaming through your whole body.

“They’re accusing her of murder,” Joel said, and you swallowed thickly. “Someone reported their friend missing — a Brandon James — saying how they saw him leave with Ellie, and Abby.”

Memories now began to flick in your brain, like bright lights, and bile burned at your throat.

The shirt. The red on the shirt.

Blood.

“We handled it,” you recalled Ellie saying.

“We handled it” was code for “we killed someone.”

You remembered the Brandon guy harassing you, grabbing your arm, and it sent you into full panic mode. You remember calling Abby about it, and Ellie giving you coke to distract you for the meantime. You remembered them not being with you for a while, keeping you with Dina and Jesse.

They needed you blind and gullible.

“Are you sure it’s even her description? People just say shit ‘cause they hate her,” you said, holding yourself together. “And Abby? That’s crazy.”

“Another person at the club supported it by saying they saw the two walking out with you,” Joel continued, and you quietly cursed under your breath, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “They were there, so were you.”

You went quiet as you heard some shuffling over the line.

“Do you know something?” He asked.

“I don’t,” you said, sincerity mingled in your words. “I promise I don’t. And I don’t remember anything about being at a club, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, well if you see her or them, call me,” Joel said, and you hummed, hanging up the call immediately. You let go of your shaky breaths, and nodded to yourself as a waterfall of hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

You couldn’t stop thinking of the shirt. It had someone’s blood on it, and they were dumb enough to leave it at home. You knew Jesse and Dina wouldn’t narc them out, they were the same as Ellie and Abby.

You were alone in this; you had the choice of coming forward with the shirt, or keeping your head down, being naive to everything.

Everything started to make sense — the possession, the house, the authority you had given them. They never wanted you to leave, and they eliminated any threats, even ones that hurt you. You were glad they were there at your beck and call, but you never knew it would go to the extremes of murder. You were starting to worry that this wasn’t the first time they did this, but the first time it was starting to catch up with them.

You continued to sob as you went through your phone contacts, and clicked your mother’s number.

It took a few rings until she picked up. “Hello?”

“Momma…” you sobbed out, not knowing how to explain what you were thinking without exposing a lot of things. “Momma, I’m worried.”

Your parents weren’t entirely neglectful — if you really needed them, they were there, and would never get mad at you for anything, even if you had some fault in it. They had their fatal flaws, ones that even affected you, but they’d drop everything if you were in danger.

You never knew why that was, but you appreciated it.

“What’s wrong, dear? What happened?” She asked. “Why are you crying?”

“I think something bad happened,” you sobbed, sniffling. “And… and I can’t be here, in the city. It’s a lot to explain, but can I stay with you in Milan? Please?”

“You’re worrying me, cherie,” she said, and you broke down further, everything in the room spinning with you. “You can come stay. Are you at home?”

“At this penthouse… I’ll send the address to Tony,” you stated, trying to steady your breathing. “Thank you, momma.”

“Of course,” she softly responded, and the line went dead. You rushed down to your feet, running into the walk-in closet, and grabbed a suitcase. You tossed random amounts of clothes until the baggage couldn’t take anymore; you could buy more stuff in Milan.

You tossed your hygienic products on top of the clothes, and before you were going to zip up the luggage, your eyes averted to the hamper. You contemplated taking the shirt with you, burning it in another country so nothing would be traced back to them.

You couldn’t tamper with evidence. But these were your girls, and it was your turn to take care of them, even if their actions made you sick at this very moment. You grabbed the bloody shirt, tucking it under your clothes, and zipped up the suitcase. You put on your sneakers, and tossed a leather jacket over your nightgown.

Abby’s jacket.

You shrugged it off, and grabbed your cell phone, putting it in your purse. You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse before rushing yourself out of the penthouse, and into the elevator.

You didn’t need to leave a note, or anything of that sort. You couldn’t talk to them for a while, not until you made sure you weren’t crazy or overthinking this whole situation. But the shirt was enough to confirm the first of your suspicions, and what Ellie said.

“We handled it”, her voice kept playing in your head, like a broken record.

For now, you needed to isolate yourself; besides, it wasn’t like they would find you.

That wasn’t possible.

You hoped.

[iww-gnv]

New York lawmakers proposed three new bills last week that would make it difficult for wage theft violators to conduct business in the state. The legislation would bolster the power of state agencies to crack down on wage theft by stripping violators of their liquor licenses or business licenses, as well as issuing stop-work orders against them. The legislation was prompted by reports of rampant wage theft against New York workers, including two investigations published by Documented and ProPublica. The stories revealed that more than 127,000 New Yorkers have been victims of wage theft during a recent five-year period, but that the New York State Department of Labor was unable to recover $79 million in back wages owed to the workers. The stories were based on an analysis of two databases of wage theft violations obtained from the U.S. and New York Labor departments. The databases provided previously unreported details on how much money had been stolen from workers and also shed light on which businesses had committed wage theft. “We knew from our conversations with labor and from our constituent service caseload that wage theft is a chronic problem,” said Sen. Jessica Ramos, a Democrat who sponsored the legislation. “We did not have the data to understand the scale of the issue in New York state until the ProPublica and Documented series came out last year. Having this reporting as a tool set us up to put this package together and focused our attention on” the capacity of the Department of Labor. The legislation — dubbed the “wage theft deterrence package” by lawmakers — includes three bills, which are co-sponsored in the State Assembly by Assembly members Kenny Burgos, Harvey Epstein and Linda Rosenthal.

[probablyasocialecologist]

The latest questions are centered around Anat Schwartz, an Israeli who co-authored several of the paper’s most widely circulated reports, including the now well-known and scrutinized December 28 article headlined: “‘Screams Without Words’’ How Hamas Weaponized Sexual Violence on Oct. 7.” Independent researchers scrutinized the online record, and raised serious questions about Schwartz. First, she has apparently never been a reporter but is actually a filmmaker, who the Times suddenly hired in October. You would expect the paper to look for someone with actual journalistic experience, especially for a story as sensitive as this one, written during the fog of war. Surely the paper had enough of its own correspondents on staff who could have been assigned to it. Next, the researchers found that Schwartz had not hidden her strong feelings online. There are screenshots of her “liking” certain posts that repeated the “40 beheaded baby” hoax, and that endorsed another hysterical post that urged the Israeli army to “turn Gaza into a slaughterhouse,” and called Palestinians “human animals.” (Just this morning, more evidence emerged online; Schwartz apparently also served in Israeli Military Intelligence.) Finally, one of her co-authors on two of the reports was Adam Sella, who is her nephew.  Let’s pause here. What would happen if the Times suddenly hired a Palestinian filmmaker with no journalistic background, who had recently publicly “liked” posts that called for “pushing Israeli Jews into the sea,” to co-write several of its most sensitive and contested reports? 

[...]

There’s another related example of how the Times has botched the sexual violence story. One of the first Israeli organizations that arrived on the scene of the Hamas attack was Zaka, a volunteer group that recovers dead bodies. On January 15, Times reporter Sheena Frankel wrote a positive profile of the group; she included 3 or 4 sentences of criticism, only to quickly dismiss them. This site had already raised serious doubts about Zaka weeks earlier, pointing out that “the organization’s volunteers have systematically given false testimonies, and continue repeating them to journalists on behalf of the Israel government.” Then, on January 31, the Israeli daily Haaretz published a long investigation, that highlighted “cases of negligence, misinformation and a fundraising campaign that used the dead as props.” Haaretz cited one Zaka report that said a volunteer had seen a murdered pregnant woman, with the baby still attached by the umbilical cord — before concluding that the incident “simply didn’t happen.” At this stage, there are serious doubts about many aspects of Israel’s overall account about October 7. Only a genuinely independent and impartial investigation might some day get closer to the truth. But meanwhile, at the very least the New York Times must publicly recognize its errors, and assign new, unbiased reporters to try to clean up its mess. 

Continue reading

[odinsblog]

NEW YORK (AP) — Peter Buxtun, the whistleblower who revealed that the U.S. government allowed hundreds of Black men in rural Alabama to go untreated for syphilis in what became known as the Tuskegee study, has died. He was 86.

Buxtun died May 18 of Alzheimer’s disease in Rocklin, California, according to his attorney, Minna Fernan.

Buxtun is revered as a hero to public health scholars and ethicists for his role in bringing to light the most notorious medical research scandal in U.S. history. Documents that Buxtun provided to The Associated Press, and its subsequent investigation and reporting, led to a public outcry that ended the study in 1972.

Forty years earlier, in 1932, federal scientists began studying 400 Black men in Tuskegee, Alabama, who were infected with syphilis. When antibiotics became available in the 1940s that could treat the disease, federal health officials ordered that the drugs be withheld. The study became an observation of how the disease ravaged the body over time.

In the mid-1960s, Buxtun was a federal public health employee working in San Francisco when he overheard a co-worker talking about the study. The research wasn’t exactly a secret — about a dozen medical journal articles about it had been published in the previous 20 years. But hardly anyone had raised any concerns about how the experiment was being conducted.

“This study was completely accepted by the American medical community,” said Ted Pestorius of the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, speaking at a 2022 program marking the 50th anniversary of the end of the study.

Buxtun had a different reaction. After learning more about the study, he raised ethical concerns in a 1966 letter to officials at the CDC. In 1967, he was summoned to a meeting in Atlanta, where he was chewed out by agency officials for what they deemed to be impertinence. Repeatedly, agency leaders rejected his complaints and his call for the men in Tuskegee to be treated.

He left the U.S. Public Health Service and attended law school, but the study ate at him. In 1972, he provided documents about the research to Edith Lederer, an AP reporter he had met in San Francisco. Lederer passed the documents to AP investigative reporter Jean Heller, telling her colleague, “I think there might be something here.”

Heller’s story was published on July 25, 1972, leading to Congressional hearings, a class-action lawsuit that resulted in a $10 million settlement and the study’s termination about four months later. In 1997, President Bill Clinton formally apologized for the study, calling it “shameful.”

The leader of a group dedicated to the memory of the study participants said Monday they are grateful to Buxtun for exposing the experiment.

“We are thankful for his honesty and his courage,” said Lille Tyson Head, whose father was in the study.

(continue reading)

[facts-i-just-made-up]

Oblomov’s Goncharov: The Novel That Started It All

To understand Martin Scorsese’s presentation of “Goncharov” (1973) it is first necessary to understand Oblomov’s original novel on which it is based, and indeed, the time in which it was written.

The author, Ilya Ilyich Oblomov, was a young nobleman who lived in the late 19th century in Moscow. Popular with the royal family and rich beyond all measure, he was targeted along with the royals by Lenin and the Bolsheviks when they took over Russia after the first world war (known then as World War Part I of II). To escape the fate of the royals (he is believed to have escaped the Winter Palace by only hours) he fled to Italy.

Italy was, at the time, a newly unified country of former city-states including Rome, Florence, Milan, and for some reason, Chicago, IL, the people of which may have thought “IL” stood for Italy at the time. Oblomov himself found protection in Vatican City (which was not a city, but a separate country) owing to his significant contributions to the Popesidential campaign of Pius XII. Once the revolution had died down in his former country, now part of the USSR, which is English for CCCP, which is Cyrillic for SSSR, which stood for USSR, Oblomov moved out into the “Country” (which was not a country, but just an Italian city) and began writing of his experiences.

Oblomov began his novel, Goncharov, in 1921. Its narrative was to be an epic escape from Russia to match his own, but this was not to be, as the house he moved into belonged to the family of Francesco Cuccia, known now as “Don Ciccio the All-Around Unpleasant” or “Cuccia the Pretty Damn Bloodthirsty.” Oblomov, having been tricked by certain vindictive members of the Vatican House of Commons, did not in fact have permission to live there.

As Oblomov himself tried to evade not only Don Ciccio’s mafia but Lenin’s assassins, Vatican intrigue, Templar knights trying to kill the Assassins, and of course, the order of assassins themselves, known then as “hidden ones” or simply, The Brotherhood; his novel Goncharov became a venting point for the tribulations to which he was subjected. Thus, Goncharov became the story of an epic battle between the Italian Mafia and Russians that we know today.

The novel Goncharov, published illegally in Soviet Russia as “Ivan Goncharov” or “The Many Sufferings Of Ivan Goncharov: Hope For The Best, Expect The Worst” was an underground hit. Stalin himself is said to have greatly enjoyed the novel before banning it, burning most copies of it, kidnapping its author and sending him to die in a gulag in Siberia. Though no record exists of Oblomov’s death, it does seem he was captured by Soviet secret police while visiting his parakeet in Yekaterinburg, and all record of him is lost upon his arrival in northern Siberia.

But a few copies made it out, and thanks to an English translation by Penguin Classics, the book fell into the hands of Martin Scorsese, who read the novel while in prep for his film Mean Streets, where he would go on to meet producer Domenico Procacci. Scorsese was of course too busy with his first New York epic to direct, but he agreed to co-produce the film. All that was missing was a director.

While filming the riot scene for Mean Streets though, Scorsese and his casting director happened to meet a certain extra with a peculiar name. Matteo JWHJ0715 (whose family name was changed at Ellis Island from “Jones”) had just moved to New York to achieve his dreams of Hollywood stardom, having thought Hollywood was one of New York’s suburbs. Scorsese corrected him and allayed his disappointment by inviting him to join him and Procacci for dinner.

The rest, as they say, is history.

[uwmspeccoll]

Written in the Stars

Star Tales: North American Indian Stories is retold and illustrated by Gretchen Will Mayo (b. 1936) and published in 1987 by Walker & Co. in New York. After getting a journalism degree and a teaching certificate, Mayo attended the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design from 1982 to 1984 and earned her MFA from Vermont College. She is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, and in 1987, she received several awards and honors, including the Original Children’s Book Art Award and Cooperative Children’s Book Center (CCBC) Choice for Star Tales. Mayo has lived and worked in the Milwaukee area for many years.

For this book, Mayo, known for her children’s books, retells Native American stories related to the stars. Her work beautifully bridges cultural heritage and imagination, making her a cherished voice in children’s literature. Her illustrations enhance the enchantment of these celestial narratives, allowing one to imagine constellations coming alive with myth and magic.

-View other posts from our Native American Literature Collection

-Melissa (Stockbridge-Munsee), Special Collections Graduate Intern

[equallyshaw]

back to you | quinn hughes

✿ word count: 4.3k ✿ warnings: mention of slight body shaming and emotional/mental abuse. ✿ the early timeline is a bit sketch, ignore it pls lol ✿ french is italsized. ✿ masterlist.

cecille miller and quinn hughes met years ago at a toronto prep school for athletes, both bonding over having two other siblings and all three of them being involved in the same sport. cecille had been competing for the last 5 years in figure skating all across the world, in singles by the time they had met. while quinn was on his way two years later for team usa, back home in the states. by the time quinn had left, she was on the verge of cementing a spot on team canada for the 2018 Olympics just a few short years later. the last time they saw one another, cecille had been preparing for worlds in 2016. the olympics was the last time he had seen her - not to mention everybody.

after a coach who had abused her mentally and emotionally for years, over her physical appearance and how she was 'too' soft; she was ready to untie her skates and place them on a desolate shelf in the garage, which was a step up from the garbage can. her gold medal followed suit. after the olympics she enrolled in trinity college in toronto, which is by far the smallest college in the city with a focus on psychology with a minor in writing. hoping to one day bring an emphasis to sports psychology in the world of skating, albeit it in hockey or figure skating, and bring more awareness to how mentally exhausting it can be. and the physical aspect it has on the body. now two years out from graduation, she was on her way to new york to begin a position with the new york knicks. after completing a sports psychology internship with massachuest general hospital; which is considered one of the top hospitals in the country, all the while co-publishing a study on the stress of an athlete. she had reached the ceiling of figure skating, shattered it- and hoped to do the same in her field.

it was another hot and humid evening in the city, this early october. the season had just begun for the nba and cecille had loved and thoroughly enjoyed getting to see it up close and personal. she saw the game in a different light now, and adored seeing it through the eyes of the athletes. even through the ugly and not-so-pretty moments. as the team's junior sports psychologist, she found herself being a shoulder to lean on and vent to more than anything. she found herself becoming a confidant for the rookies and younger ones, as she could relate to the world around them in more ways than one.

as she stood off the back behind the player's bench, she saw one of those said rookies sitting down frustrated and defeatedly. the head and senior teams psychologist look towards her, and gave her a nod. as if to say, 'this is it kid.' she nodded towards the middle-aged man, before walking towards the end of the bench as the time out proceeded. she kneeled in front of him as the players head hung low with a towel on it. he had made a huge error just minutes prior and was benched because of it. although she didn't agree with the coach just pulling him out, she could understand why. her and player spoke in hushed voices for about 45 seconds before the player took off the towel and gave her a small smile. she gave him a small wink before standing up and giving a quick fist bump to another player who then bent over to talk to the younger player. cecille quickly walked back towards the players entrance to the lockerroom and stood across from her boss. he gave her a big smile before looking back at the game.

unbeknownst to her, jack was at the game with a few teammates and had seen the whole thing, along with quinn who was home in vancouver. the eldest watching as the camera panned over to her and the rookie, with the commentators speaking about how the 'golden girl' from toronto canada had come to work with them after 5 years of study. jack caught the tail end of the conversation between the two and couldn't believe she'd shown up in their lives at the oddest moment. cecille + basketball? who'd a thought! jack promised quinn that if given the opportunity, he'd find a way to see her. after all, he wanted to find out all he could on the girl, who his older brother had never stopped thinking of.

✿

jack never ended up getting the opportunity to see the now soft redhead. cecille headed back up to vancouver for a bachelorette party for a childhood friend, who too had moved to the states like cecille. she had just entered the luxury hotel - farmont pacific rim - where the party would be staying at. instead of going to her room right away, she opted for a coffee at the coffee bar and a chocolate muffin. she had had a red eye from dallas, and had gotten into vancouver around 6:47 am. quickly typing away on her phone, responding to an email about a private meeting for a player on the team - she had not realized who had walked up next to her at the bar. she pressed send, before placing her phone down and bringing her iced americano up to her pale lips. god, she was exhausted. her schedule allowed little time for rest and knew this weekend would end up biting her in the ass- but she couldn't pass up a childhood friend's weekend, that girl had been there for so much at this point. through cecilles early career, her peak, retirement, and now post-grad.

cecille sipped some more of her iced drink, before setting it back down. the young man spoke to the barista about what they wanted.

cecille's phone dinged a few times with texts and an email alert, she sighed turning off the ringer. as she did so, she took a not so subtle glance to her right, taking a peek at the man beside her. who now, sat down two seats from her. black hair - newly damp - curled right above their eyebrows, a soft spec now formed on the chin and a freshly stitched finger pushed away the hair. that only a hockey player could have, i might add.

curiosity got the best of her, and she peeked a little longer before a set of hazel eyes looked up at her.

she instantly choked on her own spit, and looked away quickly. that couldn't be who she thought it was right? she sipped some of her drink before covering her eyes with her hands, already knowing it was who it was. "you okay?" he questioned, not realizing it was her. yet. "just peachy." she hummed, feeling her cheeks turn molten, her heartbeat begin to pound and her hands becoming warm. "just fantastic." she mumbled before her phone began to ring from the other side of the coast. her mother.

"hi mum, whats up?" she questioned in a quebec accent, that she picked up years ago from when she'd visited her mom's family there. her mum wanted to check in and see how she was doing, and if she'd gotten to the hotel alright. she confirmed and then turn towards quinn who took the hot coffee from the barista, "and you wouldn't believe who sits next me." she teased in english, as quinn looked towards her. his eyes widened in confirmation, her shade of icy blue eyes and freckle right above her right eyebrow confirmed it. her mother questioned who it was, and she responded with, "remember drama quinn?" (pronounced queen) and her mum laughed. a term laced with adoration and childlike humor, a nickname jack had coined years ago back in the suburbs of toronto. cecille promised to call her when she got back to manhattan, before the two ended the call.

"cecille florence.." he murmured under his breath and she nodded with a small smile, "wha- why are you here? what have you been up to?" he questioned in disbelief sitting down in the high-top chair next to hers. her pale by-nature cheeks turned light blush as she smiled. "im here for a bachelorette party. member livie?" she questioned and he nodded in confirmation, "well she's getting married next summer and she had time off to travel here and i just so happened found time as well." cecille explained with a slight shrug. he nodded, trying to form a question while she sipped her coffee. "oh! i saw you work for the knicks, right? how'd you end up there?" he questioned in genuine curiosity. she nodded, "after spending two years at Massachusetts general - top hospital in the country, i got the opportunity to become a junior sports psychologist for them after they read the study i co oversaw and wrote a journal on. after a brief interview, they offered it to me." she said with a glint in her eye. a familiar one to quinn, and one he saw regularly when she spoke about skating.

"how long did you know you wanted to work in sports psychology?" he questioned with a hint of softness, not knowing why she retired. she shifted in her seat a bit, "it wasn't until after the olympics, and when i came home. i knew i wanted to go to college just wasn't sure in what. took a bit before the winter deadline and everything that i had gone through up to that point, and decided on psychology. in hopes that i help somebody like the little girl in me needed, if that makes sense?" she explained with a slight giggle and to which, quinn nodded. "ofcourse ofcourse..but uh, what exactly was that? if you don't mind me asking." he said trying to gauge her reaction. "i never verbalized it until i retired, but my coach was extremely toxic. him and his assistant, always made sure i felt less than, that i always had an extra pound to lose or that i was too soft for the competition world. and once i won gold, i knew i was done. everything i had worked for paid off, but was it worth all the pain? that's something ill forever think about, but i wanted to pursue a study that would give me the ability to be a positive voice in a sport. at the end of the day." she finished and quinn sat back in marvel and in thought.

"for starters..im sorry you went through that. that should have never happened, and im sorry for never recgonizing it." he began, "but im glad that skaters up and coming could possibly learn from you and lean on you as a possible support system." he said with a small smile and she mirrored it. "thankyou q, what about you? what have you been up to? im sorry, i lost track after olympics. kinda dropped off that face of the earth." she mused with a slight blush. he waved her off, "no you are fine! well after being in michigan for two years, my family all moved over and then i got drafted to the NHL before playing for michigan for two seasons. and then headed off to vancouver. and now which, im the captain of." he said with the same slow - humble tone he'd always had. so unlike his brother, jack.

"thats so exciting q!! im so happy for you, you deserve it all. but yeah, i remember my mom saying something about you guys moving back to the states, a year before the olympics. how did you all adjust?" she inquired before sipping her drink. quinn chuckled, "jack thrived. absolutely thrived, loved it. luke, had a little bit of a harder time before adjusting well, and then me? well, i missed you guys a lot. i missed school, club, and the neighborhood friends i had. but after a while, hockey took all my time." he said shrugging, and that made her smile sadly. "im sorry q. i promise we missed you too." she said placing her left hand on his right, which was resting on the counter. the two of them looked down at it before she pulled it back.

as soon as quinn was about to speak, her phone began to ring. her eyes broke away from his to see livie's name pop up. she quickly accepted and brought her phone to her ear, "ill be there shortly!" she said before hanging up. she locked her phone, took one last sip of the iced drink and then looked over at quinn, who seemed to be hanging on the edge of his seat to speak. "well, it was great seeing you quinn but i must get upstairs to see liv." she said wrapping up her chocolate muffin. quinn nodded apprehensively as she stood up, a solemn look laced his features. "wh-can i see you again?" he questioned, standing up as she was turning towards the elevators. she stopped in her spot, before looking back at him. "id really like that, q." she hummed before smiling widely. "number the same?" he questioned and she nodded, "see you soon." he said with a slight nod and smile.

as she walked out of the elevator, she was met with livie standing in front of her. "oh hi." cecille said throwing her arms around her best friend. "eeee hi!" livie returned the favor, before pulling back. "wait! was that quinn who i saw at the bar with you?" she quickly questioned and cecille nodded, giving livie a opprurtunity to laugh wickedly.

✿

december rolled around when vancouver finally visited new jersey to square off against the hughes duo. and when the infamous ellen hughes found out about quinn seeing cecille in person, she made jack foot the bill as the host to get her ticket so she could sit with the family. so now cecille found herself walking into the arena with a vancouver shirt she found off of etsy, dark washed blue jeans, white sneakers, and a winter jacket on. ellen was waiting outside of the family box the boys had gotten, and as soon as she saw cecille step out of the elevator, she quickly made her way over to the girl.

"mrs hughes!" cecille said in surprise as ellen wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, before letting out some giggles. "its so good to see you my sweet girl! how are mum and dad?" ellen spoke warmly pulling away an arms length. "they're good! they actuallymoving to quebec after new years." she responded with a small smile, "how have you been? mr hughes?" she questioned. "call us ellen and jim sweetie, but we've been good! come on, lets get to our seats and we'll catch up." ellen smiled wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulder and walked them to the box.

the two were in a deep conversation when the boys came out for the anthem and puck drop. "y'know he hasn't stopped talking about you since you guys reconnected." ellen said looking over at the girl, as cecille eyes went back and fourth trying to find quinn. "really?" cecille said turning to meet her eye, and she knew ellen was telling the truth.

"it's great you guys have been catching up, it was rather hard for q to leave toronto. let alone leave us. he really struggled in the beginning, leaving all of you guys and school behind." she began to explain as cecille looked back out to instantly find him, "he loved being there, as did we. but you were the first friend he made out there and leaving you, was the hardest thing he had to do." ellen finished, without saying the words; but they were soulmates. either platonically or not. regardless, it was the type of friendship that leaves an imprint on you and a lasting impression. "and then you disappearing was devastating for him, hun." she added and cecille could feel the tear forming in her eyes.

leave it to ellen for always telling the truth, and being 100% honest. she had always loved that about her, but this? god, she could just about die at this moment.

"oh, wow." cecille said breathlessly, still in shock.

"you didn't know?" ellen questioned softly, and cecille shook her head no.

that's why he was so gungho on taking her out to dinner after the game, ellen thought.

"well im sure he'll tell you at some point." ellen said trying to diffuse the situation a bit as she gave cecille a small shoulder squeeze, before turning towards the ice.

cecille felt hands at her shoulders, and turned to look up to see jimmy. jimmy sat down, and the two now caught up with each other.

✿

after the canucks came out on top, cecille found herself sitting off to the side of the family box; deep in her thoughts. her foot shook as she crossed her leg over the other, looking out onto the now deserted ice. truth be told, her thoughts had been eating away at her for the entirety of the game. she felt hands for the second tonight on her shoulders, jerking her out of her thoughts. cecille jumped in her seat, before turning around to jack who had the wickedest grin on his face. "jesus fuck, jack." she said bringing a hand to her chest before smiling. jack opened his arms wide for the smaller girl and as soon as they hugged he spun her around. "goldie! how have you been?" he asked setting her down, and she softly smiled. "I've been pretty good!" she said modestly, and jack shook his head. "you work for the fucking knicks, that's fucking awesome!" he said not sparing niceties, to which she only laughed. "alright jacky, let me hug her." luke said walking over and cecilles eyes widened at how tall he was. he bent over and gave her a tight hug, before pulling away.

"who allowed you to get so tall?!" she said laughing with jack, "oh believe me, im pissed!" jack said pushing luke's shoulder. luke could only laugh, before turning around at hearing quinn's name.

"sorry about the game guys, you guys played wonderful." she said as they looked towards her, but they waved her off. "we all know why he was on his a - game tonight, don't we moose?" jack spoke turning towards luke, who took a second to register his comments but then profusely nodded. quinn quickly scanned the room of friends and family for the golden girl, and as soon as his eyes landed on her short self - a smile appeared on his face.

he made his way over and stopped in between his brothers, who were conversing with her. "q!" cecille said with a wide smile, "congrats on the win." but quinn couldn't hear her over the fact that she was wearing a vancouver canuck shirt. "quinnie." jack said under his breathe, alerting the eldest one. "oh yeah, thanks!" quinn said a bit flustered before looking up at cecille. "ofcourse! i was uh just telling the boys that i was actually on my way out for the evening. i have to be at the practice gym early tomorrow." she said a bit sad. quinn nodded not registering her words fully, "you sure you don't want to come to dinner with us?" luke asked and she gave him a small frown. "i wish i could, but i cannot. besides, i gotta get back to feed my cat her meds." she said with a slight shrug, "what if you and i go grab something quick?" quinn suggested quickly, and cecille knew she could not pass this up. "something quick, alright?" she confirmed and quinn nodded.

✿

the night ended rather too quickly for quinn, and without explaining his full feelings for the girl. leaving her rather confused and ponderd on where they stood. as the seasons winded down for the both of them, cecille got a text from jack asking if she wanted to visit the lake house for memorial day weekend. cecille accepted the invitation and was now just getting out of the uber.

"cecille!" she heard ellen's unmistakable voice from the front door, as she thanked the driver for the ride. "so good to have you with us!" ellen said jogging down the driveway to give her a hug. "who all is here?" cecille asked, as the two turned to walk up. "a lot of the boys friends from the program, college and their teams. you remember the tckachuk boys?" ellen questioned and cecille laughed whole heartedly, "how could i forget them? they're very hard to forget." she mused as jimmy opened the front door. "hi!" cecille beamed, giving jimmy a quick hug before he took her suitcase and carry on bag.

"i think the boys are all outside on the deck coo-" ellen was cut off by who walked in through the back door, and cecille turned to see who walked in. "cecille?" quinn asked as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he looked back at jack who was in the middle of telling a very animated story. "let me guess." quinn stated causing cecille to laugh, as she realized what jack had done. he invited her without quinn knowing, as a surprise.

"when is he not up to something?" she teased as he set down his drink before pulling her in for a hug.

they pulled apart, and turned away from one another as ellen walked up. "dad and i are gonna run to the store to grab some things, ok? please text us if you want anything, cecille!" ellen said walking past them with her purse. cecille nodded giving them both a small wave, before turning back towards quinn.

"you two get out here!" jack yelled, as she popped his head through the sliding door. quinn rolled his eyes, before jack shut the door.

quinn sighed turning back towards cecille with a smile, "would you wanna i don't know, hang out later? just the two of us?" he asked a bit nervously, and cecille nodded. "i could take you out on the boat?" he clarified and she smiled, "that'd be really nice q."

✿

later on in the evening nearing 11 o'clock, after hours of stolen glances and private smiles, the two found themselves out on the boat. cecille stood up at the front of the boat, as quinn watched on from the drivers seat. the night sky clear of fog and any clouds, allowed for the stars to be out in full force tonight. cecille turned a bit back towards quinn and smiled, in which he mirrored.

"watcha thinking about?" he questioned as she walked back towards him and sat down on the couch across from the drivers seat. truth be told, ellen's words from 5 months ago had been circulating all night. and now, they were even worse. she shook her head, bringing her knee to rest her chin on. quinn watched her body begin to tense, something he'd always been able to do back in their early teen years. "you can tell me anything, cille." he offered softly and she nodded in acknowledgment. as she toyed with how she wanted to approach the subject, she sighed.

"when i came to the game, your mom was very honest and open about you and your...feelings." she paused turning her lips inward as she bit the inside of her cheeks. "how..honest?" he asked full of anxiety before she could finish. cecille looked up and met his gaze, "forget i said anything." she said standing up and walking to the back end of the boat, with her arms crossed. "no, don't do that cecille. just tell me, please." he pleaded following her. she shook her head, as he turned her around to face him. "cille, what did my mom say?" he asked placing hands on both sides of her face and making her look up at him. "she spoke of how-how difficult it was for you to leave, and that it was even harder watching me disappear from the world. trust me! i didn't want to disappear but i had to, i wanted to close that chapter of pain and trauma and in turn, i shut you and everybody else completely." she began as tears began to form in her eyes. quinn shook his head as he wiped his thumb softly against her cheek, as he sniffled. she shook her head, "it was hard for me as well, watching you leave and then life got in the way. but i had planned and hoped to reconnect after the olympics but things just didn't work out as i had planned. i didn't feel like myself and didn't want to put myself through any unnecessary pain." she explained, before sniffling.

he shook his head, "i would have never said or done anything to make you feel any less than cille - i promise....but my mom is such a blabber mouth my god." he said pausing to chuckle, and in turn made her giggle.

on the verge of tears, he spoke, "my god, it was so hard to leave you. you were right behind my family, i almost didn't go because i didn't want to leave them. but i knew i was supposed to leave, and through it all- through everything I've always kept the belief that we'd meet again, somewhere in life we'd come together again. i always knew i'd come back to you, cille." he said through tears of his own now.

cecille felt herself on the verge of tears as she pulled him in for a kiss, one they'd thought about for years at that point, and how it would feel.

it felt even sweeter than originally anticipated.

quinn lifted her up and twirled her around, before breaking the kiss. the two looked at one another before quinn broke out into laughter, and it was contagious.

"i just know jacks about to have a field day." he said and that made cecille laugh loudly as well.

she knew it to be true.

im sorry it was so long lol

but i hope you enjoyed!!!

please like and reblog if you liked (:

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

What’s in a name? It’s more than a sound people make to get your attention — it’s a seemingly universal hallmark of human society and language, the specifics of which set us apart from our fellow animals. Now, scientists say they have found evidence with the help of artificial-intelligence-powered tools that elephants call each other by names too.

“They have this ability to individually call specific members of their family with a unique call,” said Mickey Pardo, an acoustic biologist at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology and an author of a study published Monday in the journal Nature Ecology & Evolution.

Elephants’ trumpeting calls might be their most recognizable sounds, but these “are basically an emotional outburst,” Dr. Pardo said. Lower-pitched rumbles, he said, are more meaningful, as they make up a majority of elephant vocalizations and are used in a wide variety of social situations. “A lot of interesting stuff is going on in the rumbles,” he said.

To decode these rumbles, Dr. Pardo and George Wittemyer, a professor of conservation biology at Colorado State University and chairman of the scientific board for the nonprofit Save the Elephants, analyzed 469 vocalizations made by family groups of adult elephant females and their offspring recorded at Amboseli National Park and the Samburu and Buffalo Springs National Reserves in Kenya.

Elephant rumbles can be difficult for the human ear to differentiate, so the researchers used machine learning analysis: Essentially, they relied on A.I. to break down different elephant calls.

Individual elephants seemed to respond to certain rumbles from other elephants, and the researchers fed those sounds into their A.I. tool. “If the calls have something like a name, you should be able to figure out who the call is addressed to just from the acoustic structure of that call alone,” Dr. Pardo said.

So far, the scientists are not sure precisely which part of a vocalization might be the elephant’s “name.” But they found that their A.I. tool’s ability to identify the intended recipient of a rumble far exceeded what random chance would dictate.

They supplemented these analyses with fieldwork conducted by Dr. Pardo and David Lolchuragi, a co-author of the study and a research assistant at Save the Elephants. The researchers played recordings of rumbles to elephants and filmed their responses; they found that the individual elephants reacted more strongly to their “names” than to other calls, perking up their ears and rumbling back.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

False Prophets Condemned

1 And the Word of the LORD came to me, saying, 2 "Son of man, prophesy against the prophets of Israel who prophesy. And say to those who prophesy out of their own hearts, 'Hear the Word of the LORD: 3 Thus says the Lord GOD, "Woe to the foolish prophets who follow their own spirit and have seen nothing! 4 O Israel, your prophets are like the foxes in the ruins. 5 You have not gone up into the breach, nor built the wall for the house of Israel, that it might stand in the battle in the day of the LORD. 6 They have seen vanity and lying divination, saying, 'The LORD says. ' And the LORD has not sent them; but they hoped to confirm their word. 7 Did you not see a vain vision, and speak a lying divination? When you say, 'The LORD says;' although I have not spoken."

8 Therefore thus says the Lord GOD, "Because you have spoken vanity and seen lies, therefore, behold, I am against you," says the Lord GOD. 9 "And My hand shall be against the prophets who see vanity and who divine a lie. They shall not be in the assembly of My people, nor shall they be written in the writing of the house of Israel, nor shall they enter into the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord GOD. 10 Because, even because they have seduced My people, saying, 'Peace;' and there was no peace--and when anyone builds a weak wall they cover it with whitewash. 11 Say to those who cover it with whitewash, that it shall fall; there will be a flooding rain; and you, O great hailstones, shall fall, and a stormy wind will break forth. 12 And, behold, when the wall has fallen, shall it not be said to you, 'Where is the whitewash with which you have covered it?' " 13 Therefore thus says the Lord GOD, "I will cause a stormy wind to break forth in My fury. And there shall be a flooding rain in My anger, and hailstones in fury to destroy it. 14 And I will break down the wall that you have covered with whitewash, and bring it down to the ground; yea, I will expose its foundation. And it shall fall, and you shall be destroyed in her midst; and you shall know that I am the LORD. 15 And I will fulfill My wrath on the wall and on those who covered it with whitewash. And I will say to you, 'The wall is no more;' and, 'Those who whitewashed it are no more--that is, 16 The prophets of Israel who prophesy concerning Jerusalem, and who see visions of peace for her, when there is no peace,'" says the LORD.'

17 And likewise you, son of man, set your face against the daughters of your people, who prophesy out of their own hearts. And prophesy against them, 18 And say, 'Thus says the Lord GOD, "Woe to the women who sew magic charms on their sleeves, and make long veils for the head of every woman of stature, to hunt souls! Will you hunt down the lives of My people but preserve your own? 19 And you have profaned Me among My people for handfuls of barley and for pieces of bread, to kill the souls that should not die; and to save alive the souls that should not live, by your lying to My people who listen to lies."

20 Therefore thus says the Lord GOD, "Behold, I am against your armbands with which you are hunting the souls, as birds. And I will tear them from your arms, and I will set free the people whom you hunt as birds. 21 Also I will tear your long veils and deliver My people out of your hand, and they shall no more be in your hand to be hunted. And you shall know that I am the LORD. 22 Because with lies you have saddened the heart of the righteous, whom I have not made sad; and have made the hands of the wicked strong, so that he should not turn from his wicked way, that his life may be saved; 23 Therefore you shall see no more vanity, and you shall not divine any divination. And I will deliver My people out of your hands; and you shall know that I am the LORD." — Ezekiel 13 | A Faithful Version (AFV) The Holy Bible, A Faithful Version Copyright © 2007, 2009, 2010, 2011 York Publishing Company Cross References: Exodus 2:3; 1 Samuel 9:7; 1 Kings 13:18; Job 38:22; Psalm 91:3; Psalm 106:23; Song of Solomon 2:15; Isaiah 1:10; Isaiah 28:15; Isaiah 30:10; Isaiah 57:21; Jeremiah 6:15; Jeremiah 23:1; Jeremiah 23:14; Jeremiah 5:31; Ezekiel 2:3; Ezekiel 12:28; Luke 2:36; Luke 10:20; 1 Thessalonians 5:3; 2 Peter 2:14; Revelation 11:19

[covid-safer-hotties]

NYT: Cuomo Personally Altered Report Which Understated Nursing Home COVID Deaths by Over 50%, Emails Reveal - Published Sept 19, 2024

By Joseph Feldman

NEW YORk – Former Governor Andrew Cuomo personally altered a state report that significantly underreported the number of nursing home deaths from COVID-19 by over 50%, according to emails cited in a new report.

The New York Times revealed that emails and congressional documents challenge Cuomo’s claim, made during a congressional hearing, that he had no recollection of seeing or reviewing the state Health Department’s report.

In June 2020, Cuomo’s assistant reportedly sent an email to his senior staff with the message, “Governor’s edits are attached for your review,” according to the Times.

Cuomo, who recently testified before the Select Subcommittee on the Coronavirus Pandemic, was not under oath during his testimony but was warned he could face criminal charges for knowingly making false statements.

The former governor’s actions during the early stages of the pandemic have drawn criticism, particularly an order to send elderly COVID-19 patients back to nursing homes, which may have led to as many as 9,000 additional deaths. Cuomo acknowledged he referred to this March directive as “the great debacle” in an email sent to his inner circle.

A July 2020 state Department of Health report downplayed the number of nursing home deaths, a move that a U.S. House committee described as part of a “cover-up.” The House Select Subcommittee on the Coronavirus Pandemic alleged Cuomo’s office had altered the report, but the emails suggest Cuomo was directly involved.

The Times report indicates Cuomo personally added language to the report that placed blame on nursing home staff, visitors, and family members for spreading the virus. During his June questioning by House members, Cuomo claimed he had no recollection of reviewing or editing the report before its release on July 7, 2020.

Although Cuomo is known for avoiding the use of email, the Times noted that none of the emails in question were sent by him.

During a Capitol Hill hearing on September 10, Cuomo’s repeated denials prompted Rep. Mike Lawler (R-NY) to label him a “lying sack of s—t.”

Vivian Zayas, co-founder of Voice for Seniors, whose mother died in a Long Island nursing home after contracting COVID-19, attended the hearing. She accused Cuomo of lying, stating, “If he lied to Congress, he committed a crime. He should definitely be investigated.”

Cuomo’s spokesperson, Rich Azzopardi, responded to the email revelations by insisting that nursing home staff spread the virus, aligning with the findings of the original report. Azzopardi also emphasized that Cuomo cooperated fully with the congressional inquiry and argued that the findings align with CDC guidelines in place at the time.

Cuomo, who stepped down in August 2021 amid sexual misconduct allegations, has been rumored to be considering a run for New York City mayor as current Mayor Eric Adams faces growing scandals.

[vintagelasvegas]

(Copyright 1947 by News Syndicate Co. Inc.) Bugsy Siegel has he relaxed at his Flamingo Hotel, Las Vegas, Nev., the day before his death.

There are no known photos of Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel in Las Vegas, except for this one published in New York's Daily News, 6/24/47, captioned that it was taken the June 19, 1947. Siegel flew from Las Vegas to Los Angeles overnight, and was killed at N. Linden Dr. in Beverly Hills on the evening of June 20.

[lepetitdragonvert]

Andersen’s Fairy Tales

New York

Published by The Platt & Munk Co inc.

1919

[mimi-0007]

𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗔 𝗝𝗨𝗟𝗜𝗔 𝗛𝗔𝗬𝗪𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗥 (1858-1964)

Anna Julia Haywood Cooper was a writer, teacher, and activist who championed education for African Americans and women. Born into bôndage in 1858 in Raleigh, North Carolina, she was the daughter of an enslaved woman, Hannah Stanley, and her owner, George Washington Haywood.

In 1867, two years after the end of the Civil Wàr, Anna began her formal education at Saint Augustine��s Normal School and Collegiate Institute, a coeducational facility built for former slàves. There she received the equivalent of a high school education.

Anna Haywood married George A.G. Cooper, a teacher of theology at Saint Augustine’s, in 1877. When her husband died in 1879, Cooper decided to pursue a college degree. She attended Oberlin College in Ohio on a tuition scholarship, earning a BA in 1884 and a Masters in Mathematics in 1887. After graduation Cooper worked at Wilberforce University and Saint Augustine’s before moving to Washington, D.C. to teach at Washington Colored High School. She met another teacher, Mary Church (Terrell), who, along with Cooper, boarded at the home of Alexander Crummell, a prominent clergyman, intellectual, and proponent of African American emigration to Liberia.

Cooper published her first book, A Voice from the South by a Black Woman of the South, in 1892. In addition to calling for equal education for women, A Voice from the South advanced Cooper’s assertion that educated African American women were necessary for uplifting the entire black race. The book of essays gained national attention, and Cooper began lecturing across the country on topics such as education, civil rights, and the status of black women. In 1902, Cooper began a controversial stint as principal of M Street High School (formerly Washington Colored High). The white Washington, D.C. school board disagreed with her educational approach for black students, which focused on college preparation, and she resigned in 1906.

In addition to working to advance African American educational opportunities, Cooper also established and co-founded several organizations to promote black civil rights causes. She helped found the Colored Women’s League in 1892, and she joined the executive committee of the first Pan-African Conference in 1900. Since the Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA) and the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) did not accept African American members, she created “colored” branches to provide support for young black migrants moving from the South into Washington, D.C.

Cooper resumed graduate study in 1911 at Columbia University in New York City, New York. After the death of her brother in 1915, however, she postponed pursuing her doctorate in order to raise his five grandchildren. She returned to school in 1924 when she enrolled at the University of Paris in France. In 1925, at the age of 67, Cooper became the fourth African American woman to obtain a Doctorate of Philosophy.

In 1930, Cooper retired from teaching to assume the presidency of Frelinghuysen University, a school for black adults. She served as the school’s registrar after it was reorganized into the Frelinghuysen Group of Schools for Colored People. Cooper remained in that position until the school closed in the 1950s.

Anna Julia Cooper dièd in 1964 in Washington, D.C. at the age of 105.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

The financial head of the publisher of the Epoch Times is facing money laundering charges in an apparent $67-million US scheme to benefit himself and the company.

The United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York alleges Weidong Guan, also known as Bill Guan, conspired with others in a "sprawling, transnational scheme" to "benefit himself, the media company and its affiliates."

Financial records on the ProPublica website show that Guan is the chief financial officer of the New York-headquartered Epoch Times Media Group, which publishes the conservative newspaper and website of the same name.

The 61-year-old from New Jersey is charged with one count of conspiring to commit money laundering, which carries a maximum penalty of 20 years in prison, and two counts of bank fraud, which each carry a maximum sentence of 30 years. 

In an email to CBC News, a spokesperson for the Epoch Times said Guan is "innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt" and that the company would co-operate with any investigation into the allegations against him, but that he has been suspended "until this matter is resolved." [...]

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