#because all her organs are distributed appropriately

[mariibound2003]

finally decided to share my Dealer with the internet! Her name's Buck, she's the butch ever, and she is my everything atm, i'd let her step on me, crush me under her large arthropodic body and shoot me in the head- the USUAL response yknow? Bonus doodle of her and Charles arguing:

[604to647]

Skittles

3.8K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: You catch Detective Tim Rockford in a compromising position.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please) - but it's all fluff (things start to move towards spicy near the end)!  Talk of prostitution (sex work is work!), nicknames (Shutterbug, baby), feather light dusting of angst, soft!Tim as usual 💕

A/N: Another instalment of The Rockford Portfolio! Because the collection of one-shots is non-linear, they can all be read as standalone - though there is a reference to something that happened when they first met in Marine Attraction. This one can take place anytime, but I imagine it to be earlier on when Tim and Shutterbug have started dating for a few months/they're in a newish established relationship. Graffiti Alley is a real place! There might be others, but the one I frequented (and where the moodboard pics were taken is in Toronto, behind Queens Street).

Series Masterlist

Photography themed dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

“Thanks for your help, Darlene.”

“Sure thing, boss.  Sorry no one showed.”

“Not your fault.  You sure it’s this alley though?”

Darlene, seasoned pro at the world’s oldest profession and one of Detective Tim Rockford’s longest standing and most trustworthy informants, gives him a withering stare, “I think I can remember where I gave the guy a blow job, Timothy.”

“Geez Louise, Darlene, alright – I’m sorry,” Tim throws his hands up in mock surrender.  Over the years, Darlene has provided him countless pieces of good intel – usually regarding the comings and goings of suspects or other persons of interest in his cases; her information always panned out - he didn’t have any reason to doubt her.

Theirs was a mutually beneficial arrangement, as most cop-informant relationships were.  He never busted her for soliciting, and to be honest, he probably wouldn’t have even if she didn’t help him.  In Tim’s mind, sex work was work and Darlene and her fellow sex-workers had the right to make a living, as long as everyone was being safe and no one got hurt.  He had a tendency to emphasize the safety part – Darlene and a few of her closer friends knew that if a client were to ever get rough or out of hand, a call to Detective Rockford would bring about an appropriate response. 

That Darlene had once tried to use Tim’s business card as a get-out-of-jail-free card was another story.

Early on in their arrangement, Darlene had offered to include some additional ‘perks’, but Tim had never taken her up on it; the power imbalance didn’t sit well with him and she eventually stopped offering, the possibility of their relationship being anything other than strictly professional evaporating years ago.   He knew other cops that didn’t object to mixing business with pleasure, and while Tim didn’t judge, it wasn’t for him. He saw it as his responsibility to take care of his informants, and he did so by paying Darlene one of his higher informant rates and providing her with some security in the knowledge that he was but one phone call away if she ever needed help; in return, Darlene kept an eye out for information that could help with his cases and she nearly always delivered.

Unfortunately, today was not one of those times.  Darlene had called and said that she had it on very "good authority" that a few of Mr. Pie’s men had been hanging out a lot in Graffiti Alley.  Darlene had overhead the men in question talking about Mr. Pie’s distribution network – an area of the Pie organization that Tim had been heavily investigating.  And as a result, Tim’s spend the better part of his Saturday sitting in his car with Darlene, parked in an inconspicuous alcove in said alley waiting for her to identify any of the men should they turn up.  No dice – during the daytime, Graffiti Alley is almost welcoming: people walk their dogs here, photographers and artists with sketch books come to be inspired by the ever changing graffiti art, even tourists wander through to admire the colourful murals. Apparently, the less than savoury characters only emerge at night.

Tim hands Darlene the envelope with her informant pay, which she accepts eagerly, “And do you have the other stuff?” 

“Of course.  Not my first rodeo, Darlene,” Tim reaches his long arm into the back seat of his car and grabs a small plastic grocery bag and hands it to her as well.

“Yesssss… you got Skittles this time,” Darlene digs into the bag, eyes eagerly looking over the selection of candy that Tim's given her as part of their agreement.  She selects the package of Skittles and starts to tear it open – eager for her sugary reward.

“In the car? Be carefu-,” starts Tim, but it’s too late.  Darlene pulls apart the wrapper just a bit too aggressively and the bag of candy explodes, scattering the little sugary rainbow orbs all over the front seats and floor of Tim’s department issued Crown Vic.

Darlene shrieks with laughter, “Sorry, boss!! I’ll clean it up!” and starts scooping up all the candy she can see.  Tim helps as much as he can, but he’s already groaning at the near guaranteed prospect that they won’t be able to find every spilled Skittle and days, weeks and even months down the line, he’s going to periodically find candy in his car – crushed, melted and sticky. 

Darlene leans over the centre console, hands groping around the floor of the driver’s side, feeling for errant candy.  Tim closes his eyes and sighs, “Don’t bother, Darlene.  And don’t eat candy that’s been on the floor, okay?”

“Tim?”

Tim’s eyes snap open at the sound of your voice coming from somewhere outside the car, not too far away.  He turns his head and looks out the window to you standing across the alley, a small smile of surprise on your pretty face – clearly not expecting to see him in Graffiti Alley where you had come to shoot photos.  Tim’s about to roll down his window to greet you when Darlene chooses this exact moment to pop her head up so it’s now visible to you from outside the car and Tim watches as your face goes from bemused to shocked.

---

You love Graffiti Alley.  It runs behind one of the city’s busier, more fashionable streets downtown. An alley in every sense of the word: dirty and lined with the bins and refuse discarded by businesses that only cared to maintain a posh appearance for their front of house.  But what the back walls lining the alley way lacked in cleanliness and refinement, it made up for in vibrant and exciting graffiti art.  You’ve come to admire and shoot the murals in Graffiti Alley many times before, but you returned often – the street artists frequently paint over, around, and even collaborate with each other so there’s always something new to see.  After a delightful brunch with your friends in the same part of town, you made your way over to Graffiti Alley with the intention of trying out a new lens you had downloaded which you suspected would pick up on the saturation of spray paint colour rather prettily.

Noticing several new murals you’ve never seen before, you had happily snapped pic after pic, rather pleased with the results when you checked your camera roll.  You’re looking through your latest set of photos, thinking that Tim might particularly enjoy a few of the bolder, stylized tags, when, almost as if you manifested him, you look up from your phone and see him sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, partially hidden in a shady alcove along a wider part of the alley way.

Tim's eyes are closed and he looks like he’s sighing – you knew he was working this afternoon, but looking around, there’s no one in this alley save him and you; thinking perhaps he’s taking a quick break, you call out his name.

Spying the look of recognition on his face when Tim turns to face you, you’re about to start walking over when the head of a woman pops up into view and based on the angle at which she appears, the only place her face could have been prior to surfacing had to be Tim’s lap.

You’re not sure what your facial expression conveys upon realizing that you've just caught the man you’ve been dating in the middle of receiving a blow job in a dingy back alley, but internally, you’re stifling a nervous type of laughter – this is awkward and mortifying.  Maybe later, you’ll remember to be hurt, but right now your confusion and embarrassment for the situation are protecting your heart.

Your instinct is to run away.  To put as much distance between you and Tim’s daytime dalliance as possible, as soon as possible.  The instant you spin on your heel, you hear the car door opening and Tim call out your name.

Only able to take two steps before you hear, “Shutterbug! Please don’t go!” accompanied by Tim’s hurried footsteps catching up to you, stopping you in your tracks - it'll be impossible for you to outrun him if he insists on chasing after you with those stupid long legs of his.

Did he even have time to zip up his pants?! You cover your eyes before turning around, not sure if you can choke down what would undoubtedly be a sign of hysteria if you have to come face to face with Detective Tim Rockford being caught with his literal pants down.

Tim puts his large, warm hands firmly over yours, gently pulling them down before he says softly, trying to catch his breath, “Baby, I promise it’s not what it looks like.”

Still afraid to look, you keep your eyes closed, and say in a rather sarcastic voice, “I’m not sure what you mean, Tim.  What does it look like?”

You hear Tim give a low chuckle, and your eyes fly open, Does he think this is funny?!  You’re ready to give Tim a piece of your mind but your outburst dies in your throat as soon as you see the desperate, near panicked expression on the big, strong detective’s face.  Normally so stoic and formidable (save with you), you don’t think you’ve ever seen Tim look quite so vulnerable.

He must register the change in your attitude, because Tim gently takes your hand in his and makes to lead you back to his car; the driver’s side door is still flung open and through it you can see the pretty, though tired looking woman sitting in the passenger seat looking at the two of you rather sheepishly. Softly, Tim pleads, “Come with me please, Shutterbug.  I’ll explain everything.”

When you arrive next to the car, the woman gives you a small nod when Tim introduces you to one another.

“Baby, Darlene is an informant who’s helping me with the Pie case.  She’s actually helped me with many cases over the years.  We have a long-standing professional relationship,” he hopes he's properly emphasizing the strictly business nature of his and Darlene’s relationship, “… part of which includes her exchanging information for diabetes.”

Tim makes a sweeping motion with his hand and for the first time you notice that the car floor mats, driver’s seat and all the little nooks and crannies of the centre console are all positively littered with Skittles.

You giggle, “There’s so much candy.”

“Yeah, well, I splurged for the family pack to be nice,” Tim rolls his eyes, but his shoulders release a little of their tension at the sound of your laughter.

Darlene comically holds up her hands to show you both of her fists, clenched full of candy, “The bag exploded and I was just trying to salvage what candy I could from the floor – Skittles are my favourite.  I promise I didn’t have your boyfriend’s dick in my mouth.”

You laugh loud and true at Darlene’s frankness – any and all uncertainty or insecurity you've been feeling evaporating in an instant.  When you feel Tim’s arm wrap around your waist, you lean into the firmness of his hold.  Looking up, you find him already gazing at you with look of devotion; he whispers, “Promise.”

Studying the earnestness in his eyes and the softening of his normally steely countenance, you believe him and whisper back, “Okay.”  The smile that breaks out across Tim’s face is nothing short of mesmerizing, warming you through and through – though you see it only for a moment before his mouth descends upon yours.  Lightly brushing your lips repeatedly, Tim nuzzles your nose and presses his forehead to yours – anything to stay close enough to feel the soft fan of your breath; he expresses his relief, his contentment and his desires, all without words.

“Dammmmnnn boss, you’re soft for her.”

“Darlene,” Tim’s voice stern, signaling an end to today’s stakeout.

“Right, got it.  Me and my bag of candy will be going now – sorry for the mess and … yeah, well, you know.  Anyways, I’ll call you if I see those guys again,” and with a wave of her rainbow colour stained hand, Darlene exits Tim’s car and saunters down Graffiti Alley.

Finally alone, Tim cups your chin with one of his paw-like hands, the other cradling the back of your head, and in a tender tone he pledges, “Baby, I would never, okay? Never with Darlene or any informant.  And now, not with anyone but you.  There’s only you.”

You kiss him softly to match the promise of his words before deepening the kiss, licking behind Tim’s teeth and letting his tongue tangle with yours so he knows you believe in him.

When you break apart, you’re in a teasing, jovial mood about the whole situation, “Not even with Darlene?  She seems fun.”

“She’s a handful is what she is,” Tim grimaces.

“But you still make sure she’s okay and take care of her,” you suspect that it’s no small deal to your gentle giant when people make the effort to help him; you look at him lovingly, appreciating that while he may not broadcast his kind and considerate nature, it likely drives all his decisions and actions.

“Well, I try,” Tim looks bashful under your admiring gaze.  He gestures to the mess in his car, “And look where it gets me.”

Giggling, you offer, “Want me to help you clean up the car?”

“Nah, there’s a car wash place nearby that has those vacuums.  I’ll take it there.  You wanna come, Shutterbug?”

Nodding, you go help Tim brush off what candy you can from his seat before rounding the Crown Vic and doing the same to the passenger seat.  Tim insists on putting down his jacket for you, and although you don’t think it’s necessary, you made yourself a promise when you first started dating Tim that you would never pass up an opportunity to see him wearing his gun holster.

As luck would have it, a high school soccer team is running a fundraiser at the car wash today, so you and Tim don’t have to do anything but sit on a bench and wait for the car to be cleaned.  You stifle a laugh as you watch Tim give a nervous, pimply teenager his keys after flashing his badge. Only when he returns do you tell him that he’s had a green Skittle stuck to the back of his slacks the entire time.

Tim sighs, with no actual air of annoyance, as you turn him around where he stands and take your time unsticking the candy from the fabric, making sure to run your palms unnecessarily over the swell of his ass, pretending to look for other rogue Skittles.

Tim looks back over his shoulder down at you, “You just about done there, Shutterbug?”

“Nope,” you chuckle, giving his butt another once over with your grabby hands before lightly slapping each cheek, watching in satisfaction at your boyfriend’s cute booty dancing a little. “Now I'm done,” you announce cheekily to Tim’s amused silent mouthing of 'Finally' to the sky.

Wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling your legs into his lap, Tim presses a soft kiss to your temple as you snuggle into his soft embrace.

“You know, I thought I might lose you today,” Tim confesses into your hair.

Tilting your head up, you meet his tired eyes, the rich browns deep and swirling, “Like if I hadn’t believed you and Darlene, and just left?”

Tim sighs and looks pained, reliving the flash of fear that ran through him earlier that you might want nothing more to do with him, “I would have understood.”

Cupping his distressed face in your hands and running your thumbs soothingly over Tim’s facial scruff, you hope he feels your sincerity when you assure him, “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me, Detective.”

“Don’t want to get rid of you.  Wanna keep you always,” murmurs Tim, closing the distance between your faces.  Mouth pressing to yours sweetly, unhurried but full of feeling – Tim drinks in your returned affections, thirsty for your reassuring and calm touch.

After your affectionate display attracts the hoot and hollers of the carwash teens, the two of you break apart, smiles goofy.  Still a ways to go before the car is finished, Tim asks if you shot any good photos in Graffiti Alley and you happily take out your phone and walk him through today’s captures. 

You’re nearly done showing him the colourful murals that caught your eye today when Tim suddenly straightens, “Wait, go back please, baby.”  You swipe back a few pictures until Tim points at a bright stylized tag and you give him your phone so he can study the screen.  After a minute or two, he resumes scrolling slowly through today's street graffiti pics, pausing only to take retrieve his case notepad from his jacket pocket – flipping to a page of notes and using it for reference while he intently scrutinizes your photos.

Silently, you watch the cogs in Tim’s mind turn, lost in his theories and the problem solving nature of detective work that he loves so much. You're always fascinated seeing him like this: in his element, where his brilliant mind and the shrewdness of his instinct meet, and he can seemingly conjure solutions to problems you don’t even understand out of thin air.

When he gets to the end of today’s camera roll, a brilliant, heart stopping smile illuminates the detective’s entire face, the type that if you weren’t already sitting would make your knees buckle.  He looks at you, roguish grin on full display, “Shutterbug, I have good news and bad news.”

Your shout of “Noooooooooooooooo!! Not again!” carries across the carwash, causing the teenagers to furiously debate amongst themselves who's to be the poor soul who has to come over to tell the two of you that Tim's car is clean.

You're incredulous. Your boyfriend really has to stop confiscating your phone for police work.

---

It’s a little past midnight when a persistent knocking wakes you up.  When you open the door to a sheepish looking Tim, he apologies but you don’t mind the late hour – not when you spy the glow of success stamped all over his handsome face and the spring in his step when he enters your apartment.

It’s clear that Tim, having gone straight to the precinct after dropping you at home this afternoon, hasn't gone home.  You pull him towards you for a tender kiss, concerned for the long hours he keeps, “You’ve been at work this whole time, detective?”

Taking off his jacket and shoes, Tim nods but looks the opposite of tired.  He’s excited and elated at the way the puzzle pieces of this case have started to fall nicely into place today, in large part thanks to you.

“Special home delivery,” Tim holds out your phone, voice full of gratitude.

“So my photos helped?”

Did they ever.  Tim eagerly shares with you the fruits of your joint labour – when you showed him your snapshots earlier, he had recognized some symbols discreetly painted into the graffiti art in a few of the photos.  The same symbols appeared over and over in coded messages that the police had intercepted between Mr. Pie and his distribution network.  The messages were unreadable and a source of great frustration for the detective squad until today, when Tim realized that the code breaking key was hidden in plain sight all over Graffiti Alley.  Tim had spent the rest of the day with the LAPD Cipher Team, decoding the messages they had on hand and setting up stings and operations necessitated by the freshly revealed information.

It had been a good day.  Tim grins at you and thanks you earnestly for your contributions. 

Slipping your fingers under the smooth leather of Tim’s holster straps, you give them a little pull – instead of pulling him towards you, Tim’s solid frame remains unmoved and your actions cause you to tip into his space.  Eyes all innocent, you blink at Tim, “I want to be paid in candy too”

Detective Rockford is on you in an instant, hungry and eager to reward you - for your help, your understanding of the nature of his work, your understanding of him.  Mouth never leaving yours, his hands roam expertly over your lithe body, slipping under the soft silk material of your lace trimmed sleep set.  Meanwhile, your delicate hands are decidedly less gentle as you tug and pull at Tim’s belt, pants, dress shirt buttons, undershirt – breathy whimpers of victory attempt to escape your occupied mouth every time your fingers relieve Tim of another piece of clothing. No patience for order, you litter your floor with his clothes to create a telltale trail leading to your waiting bed. 

A shirtless Detective Rockford rests his head on your fluffy pillows as you climb on top of him, worshiping you with his eyes, still unable to believe his incredible luck that such a goddess would allow him to worship at her alter.  You worship him right back – tracing soft shapes over his hard chest as you marvel at the goodness housed within and the quiet strength of his broad shoulders and muscles.  Though your touch gives him nothing but pleasure, Tim removes your hands from his chest by your wrists and brings them to his lips, gently kissing them before raising them over your head so he can remove your camisole.

With you straddling his hips, bare and gorgeous only for him, Tim hardens fast under the plush globes of your ass. Willing himself to slow down, he slowly skates his thick, rough fingers over your delicious curves, bringing his large palms to a rest just under your breasts.  You're just beginning to tremble with arousal from Tim thumbing your nipples, pretty peaks already pert and hard from his attention, when a frightening thought enters your mind, 

“Wait, Tim!  Wait!”

Sitting up at your urgent tone, Tim wraps his arms around your waist, lightly running his commanding hands up and down your spine in a soothing manner – eyes full of concern.

“If you used my photos in your investigation, does that mean we have to break up?” you remember the conflict-of-interest protocol that separated you from your handsome detective for seven months the last time he used your photos in his casework.  The idea that you’ll have to part from him again threatens to break your heart.

Happily, Tim would never let that happen.  “Don’t worry, baby.  We went and shot our own photos today to enter into the file - we won’t use yours as evidence,” he presses his plush lips against the sweet spot on your neck that he discovered the first time he slept with you, “Never breaking up with you, Shutterbug.”

“Good,” you breath, grinning before pushing him back onto the bed, your body falling on top of his.  Ghosting your open, wanting mouth over Tim's lips and inhaling the intoxicating, woodsy scent that always leaves you dizzy, you murmur, “Wanna keep you always, Detective Rockford.”  And then you kiss him.

[ladyvictory22]

Fall into Temptation (V: Renaissance)

"In the garden of storms, the roots of redemption intertwine, blooming with the promise of a rebirth after the tempest."

Endings are not always happy; sometimes, they need work, many things need fixing. It took Christian a while to understand, but he realized that after the hurricane, after being distant from Toto and coming back together, they had to work to stay united.

Initially, the atmosphere felt tense for them. It wasn't about winning a battle; they didn't feel like their love had won because the remorse was still there.

That was something they had to improve. Despite the Grand Prix events flowing smoothly, they still had the habit of meeting in secret, as if someone would discover them. And they did have to hide because everything that happened hadn't come to light.

To make things flow organically in public, their separations would occur with a time differential of months or even a year. Toto would announce his public divorce first, due to Susie's commitments in Formula One and because she would be reconnecting with her ex-husband, revealing the lack of affection.

However, before all this happened, everyone was taking some time to process everything and leave behind the remorse and regret, just to get up and move on.

Since Toto suggested that he could stay at Christian's house, it was a pretty appropriate idea. Christian liked to wake up feeling an arm around his waist, feeling Toto's breath on his neck.

There were times when he woke up with kisses that Toto left on his neck, which then turned into kisses on the lips. And if they were in the mood, which was almost always the case, it ended up becoming a panting and heated mess.

So, in a way, while everything is settling into a new order, they are living their own honeymoon.

Sometimes Christian feels that things may be moving too fast or that they have become quite accustomed to being domestic. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that in the Grand Prix events, they stay together.

Although it's a bit different now, Christian has taught Toto how to feed his animals, with some grace, as Christian never imagined Toto Wolff with animals around him, yet there he is, helping.

One thing Christian truly confirmed is that his partner is really afraid of cats. Toto can approach any of Christian's pets except his cats.

So, Christian had set himself the task of making Toto overcome his fear of cats, so he came up with a plan.

They hadn't talked to Geri about the distribution of their pets, at least the ones at home. They had two dogs and two cats, so they had some idea of how it would be.

Venus is usually a calm cat that sometimes needs brushing, so Christian thought Toto could help with that.

"Is this a joke?" The Austrian said, watching Christian pet Venus.

It's not that Toto runs away when he sees a cat, but he keeps them at a safe distance.

"Come on... Venus is affectionate and sweet, she won't harm you," said Christian, pushing the brush toward Toto.

Toto gave a look, resembling a terrified and angry child at the same time.

"Don't look at me like that," said Christian, holding back laughter.

"Like what?" Toto said.

"Like a forced child," Christian smiled.

"I feel like one," murmured Toto.

Then Christian gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"If you don't try, that fear will never go away," he said.

Toto sighed in defeat, took the brush, and started brushing gently. The cat started purring, stretching because she liked it. Maybe for a moment, he felt the cat would pounce on him, but fortunately, it didn't happen.

"Have you never tried touching a kitty before?" Christian asked, watching the scene.

"Honestly, no. I used to be the type to say 'No means no,' and that's it. No one used to contradict me," he replied.

"Well, what a coincidence... I'm someone who contradicts you," Christian said, stroking Toto's arm.

They both smiled, and a little kiss.

The next days were fun for Christian, as Venus approached Toto, and he could see how gradually the fear or apprehension disappeared. Soon, Toto had Venus sleeping in his lap.

"It seems like you guys have become friends," Christian said. "Now you're going to have to get used to cat hair on your clothes, love."

Toto huffed in response with a half-smile.

~~~~~

It's not that they always spent time together, most of the time they did, but they also needed to dedicate time to their children. Explaining why they were no longer with their mothers, though it was something they would understand as they grew older.

Bluebell was probably the most complicated for Christian. Maybe Geri had never mentioned anything about it, but he felt very guilty. When they talked after Geri left home with the children, Christian became too emotional. All he said to his daughter was, "Forgive me," and she kindly just hugged him and said everything was fine, even though she ignored what had really happened.

With Olivia and Monty, it's different. They are kids, there's a different way to explain, but they are quite mature, and they don't get upset about it. When they are, they say it.

With Toto, it's different. His older children understand the situation a bit better. They looked down on Susie, but they didn't want to pry, especially out of respect for their father and stepmother, so they waited for the news to come.

But Jack was very different. He used to ask a lot, and sometimes Toto really didn't know how to answer. And on those days when he couldn't answer so many questions, Toto would just gently hug Jack, telling him that he would always be there for him.

~~~~~

They didn't bring their children together quickly; they waited for some time. First, they had to get to know them, so everything was slow and turned into a personalized introduction for each child.

Christian doesn't know if he's really paying some kind of karma with Olivia, since his little one not only looks exactly like him but also tends to... play pranks like him. She usually responds to jokes with other words. She's a very clever girl.

So one day, she managed to make her father nervous and embarrassed. That day, she got to know Toto more personally, having already seen him in the paddock when Christian took her to the races.

But she hadn't seen him in the way she sees him now. Toto gave her a gift, a lamp that, when lit, reflected stars and also rotated.

There, the little one noticed something, how her dad looked at Toto and how he smiled when Toto gave him his gift. Maybe in the past, she had seen that look between Geri and her dad, and her dad also looked at Geri with affection.

But she understood that they were no longer together, and now her dad had fallen in love with someone else. Little Olivia, who watched movies about princesses and fairy tales, for some reason compared Christian's gaze to that of a princess.

So, while they were eating after playing, and she saw her dad talking to Toto, the girl spoke up.

"You two look like a princess and a prince," said Olivia.

"Sorry?" said Christian, smiling with curiosity. "Why do you say that?"

"Because you remind me of Cinderella and the prince at the ball. You look at each other just like they did," the girl said, taking a bite of her dessert.

Toto smiled upon hearing that; he found it sweet. But when he looked at Christian, he saw the man so embarrassed, Toto held back his laughter.

"What things you say, Olivia," said Christian, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Shortly after, the girl would approach Toto stealthily.

"Can I ask you something, Toto?" said Olivia.

"Yes, tell me?" Toto smiled kindly.

"If you marry my dad, can you dance with him to the Cinderella and prince song?" the little one asked.

Toto smiled.

"Do you want me to marry your dad?" Toto said, surprised.

"Well, that's what couples do, right?" the girl said. "But it doesn't matter if it's not at a wedding, I just want to see you two dance to that song."

"I promise it will be at a wedding then," Toto smiled.

And maybe it won't be a wedding any time soon; that's something they would have to talk about in the future. For now, they had many things to resolve.

~~~~

On the other hand, it was Christian's turn with Jack; they went for a walk together. Christian realized that the boy would be a great pilot from the way he talked about cars and his interest in MotoGP.

Certainly, it was evident that he was the child of two sports enthusiasts. The little one resembled both parents; sometimes, it was as if you saw Susie, and other times, it was as if you saw Toto. The sweet side that Christian knew of Toto still came out when Jack was around; sometimes, it seemed like he wanted to protect him from everything, which Christian found endearing.

There was a moment while Toto went to buy some snacks for them that the boy approached Christian to speak directly.

He had asked many questions throughout the outing, if he had children, what his name was, what his dad was like at work.

But there was something Jack had to ask Christian, and he found the moment.

"Can I ask you something, Christian?" the little one said.

"Of course," said Christian, smiling kindly.

"Can you promise me that you will take care of my dad?" the boy said, taking Christian's hands.

A gesture very similar to Toto's, which made Christian smile with tenderness.

"Yes, I promise I will take care of your dad," he said, gently caressing the small hand on his.

"And me too?" the boy smiled.

"Yes, Jack, you too," he smiled.

The little one then gave him a hug.

"What are you two talking about?" Toto asked as he approached.

"Secret things," Jack said. "You can't know.""

~~~~~

It turns out that children can see beyond in someone's gaze; in their innocence, they say things just as they think them. Both Christian and Toto felt fortunate to have the children they had.

Both thought that this stage would be difficult, but it wasn't. It was just them with their thoughts. And in a way, it was normal, considering everything that had happened.

~~~~~

So gradually, they could bring their families together. They often went out with Monty and Jack, and it turns out that both kids got along very well. Sometimes there were outings to the beach, walks, and during one of these outings, Jack called Christian "Dad Chris" for the first time.

~~~~

Amidst the idyll of bringing their families together, or at least getting to know each other, the shift from their bittersweet ending to their happy ending, the moments when they were romantic with each other couldn't be lacking—sometimes with the help of their own children.

Christian remembers the time he arrived at his office in Milton Keynes and found a bouquet of red roses with a small note:

"You are the sweet illusion I dreamed of."

Immediately, Christian knew it was probably Olivia's idea, although he was surprised to hear that it wasn't.

He didn't go home that day; there were days when they took turns and stayed at Toto's apartment.

When Toto opened the door, Christian showered him with many kisses.

"Mmm...hello," Toto said amidst the kisses.

"Hello to you too," Christian smiled.

"Someone liked their roses," he grinned.

"I loved; I love you," said Christian. "I guess that phrase came from Olivia."

Toto smiled.

"You'll be surprised to know it wasn't from her," Toto said. "Apparently, Jack and Monty were discussing what phrase someone might say to you someday, and they decided this phrase would be good." Then Toto took Christian by the hips. "And I couldn't agree more."

Christian smiled with tenderness. "Wow, kids... well, they're right."

"At this rate, they're going to want to plan a lot of things," Toto said.

"I believe you."

They both laughed and then joined their lips in a sweet kiss.

Slowly, it led them to the bed; Christian sighed as he felt Toto's kisses on his neck, leaving small licks and bites as the clothes gradually came off.

On some occasions, everything started more relaxed, with slower caresses, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies, kisses becoming slower, feeling more.

Toto slowly moved down, leaving kisses all over the abdomen, until reaching Christian's pelvis. Then he would open the younger man's legs, kissing his thighs gently, causing Christian to moan satisfied.

Gradually, everything began to heat up, and when Toto entered Christian and moved just touching the younger man's sweet spot, he elicited sweet moans that were like music to his ears.

Christian then started with his usual marks, which Toto longed for him to do. Although something had changed, and it was that now Toto could mark him, he could do whatever he wanted.

And so he did, when they were reaching the climax, Toto bit Christian's collarbone, making him moan from overstimulation and climax again. Toto smiled at the fact and kissed a dazed but ecstatic Christian.

~~~~

The connection between them had only grown; it took them a while to get used to the idea that now they could be more freely intimate.

But the change in their lives was helping them stay in sync.

Although, while the part with the children was a challenge with a certain degree of difficulty, there were other challenges where everything increased.

The news of their divorces.

When Toto and Susie's separation was announced, there were more than a few media outlets in the middle of a Grand Prix talking about the couple's breakup, seeking statements.

That didn't bother Christian much, considering there would always be some journalist of that kind.

What he didn't like, and he doesn't know why really, was those media outlets already pairing Toto with either a businesswoman, a pilot, or a model, creating stories where their hosts introduced him to these girls. God, Christian couldn't help but feel angry and more possessive.

Sometimes these behaviors were reflected when he was with Toto. He would get angry, not want to talk too much, not understand why he was upset with Toto when he knew the reality of things.

But the mental image of seeing his partner talking to women who think he's single bothered him. What bothered him more was knowing they might be right to approach; Toto is a handsome man and always attracts attention...

So, it was one of those days when Christian was upset just because of these things, and he couldn't get it out of his head. For some reason, he responded in a very rude manner to Toto.

But Toto remembered that they had talked about this in the past, about communicating, so he was going to figure this out.

"Let's talk about what's bothering you, or you'll keep being rude," Toto said straightforwardly.

"I'm not upset," said Christian, checking his papers.

"Yes, you are. I want to know why," the older man responded.

"It's something... absurd," Christian didn't look at him, especially out of embarrassment.

"So absurd that it makes you bother and be rude... to me?" Toto said.

Christian sighed.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Toto said, taking Christian's hands while kneeling in front of him.

"It's just that... sometimes certain news can be annoying," Christian said, looking away.

"What news?" Toto asked.

"The ones that say you're with models or very beautiful women..." Christian lowered his gaze and sighed. "And then, you know, I compare myself and wonder what people would think if they knew..."

"I would let them know that I'm with such a handsome man..." Toto interrupted.

Christian looked at him.

Toto then leaned up, starting to kiss his neck. "I would let them know how much I enjoy getting moans out of you," he said, kissing and biting. Christian shivered. "I would let them know how sexy you are, what they don't realize."

Toto stayed close to his lips. "I would let them know how much I love you."

Christian smiled and let himself be kissed; he had forgotten this part, forgotten how much talking works.

And with Toto, he had started working on that, conveying what he wasn't saying, thinking before speaking. He no longer said as many hurtful things, unless he was in Team Principal mode.

Since "No Relationship," he had tried to work on his words. So, being rude to Toto was no longer about saying hurtful things; it was behaving distant and swallowing any insult.

~~~~~

On one occasion, they decided it was time to gather the family. Christian's divorce announcement hadn't been made yet, as they were waiting for some time. Not because they thought there would be something between Christian and Toto or a connection between the divorces, but rather to avoid being the subject of gossip.

It had been almost a year, and the four of them hadn't gathered, not like this. Toto spoke with Susie about things related to Jack, and Christian talked to Geri about things concerning their children.

But the four of them in the same place was a different situation. It's worth noting that Christian felt uncomfortable about showing any affection toward Toto. They didn't usually do it much in front of the kids, as they gave hugs or held hands. But with Susie and Geri present, they were more distant, and it was like a silent agreement between the two. But love simply can't be hidden.

~~~~~

In the months that Susie gave herself to recover and cope with everything, she focused on her work, on loving herself, on not thinking about anything other than Jack and herself.

And in that time, she learned many things. One day, to fight her own demons, she dared to look at photos of Toto and Christian from long before everything happened. It felt quite strange to look at the pictures now, knowing what blossomed between them—the smiles, the looks, always with affection and warmth, yet they never dared to get closer... perhaps destiny wanted it to happen later in their lives.

So, in that gathering where the kids were present and they were interacting as a family, she saw both of them talking while taking care of Jack and Monty. She saw the sparkle in both of their eyes, maybe they weren't being very affectionate with touch, but sometimes it's not necessary; just a look is enough.

So after a while, Christian approached with Jack, who ran to the kitchen because Geri had prepared some snacks.

Cautiously, Christian sat in a chair next to Susie. They hadn't spoken since the last incident.

"So, the kids have adjusted well," Susie mentioned, breaking the silence. "Jack speaks very highly of you."

"Oh... well, we've tried to connect individually with each of them..." Christian said somewhat timidly.

"Thank you... for including my son," she mentioned.

"Thank you for allowing him to connect with me... I thought..." Christian began.

"It's okay. I wasn't going to convey any of that to him. I admit that I acted out of a lot of pain... but maybe sometimes these are things that have to happen..." Susie said, watching Toto talk to Monty. "Have you ever thought about what would have happened if you two had been involved earlier?"

"I... I... maybe..." Christian stammered.

Susie then looked at him. "Imagine if Toto had been a shareholder at Red Bull Racing... who would be your husband now."

Christian couldn't help but blush because, indeed, he had fantasized about that.

"He was close to being part of Toro Rosso," Christian mentioned. "So, we could have met earlier... but destiny didn't want it to be natural."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"That Toto's and my relationship wasn't... you know, natural, but both with partners..." he mentioned.

Susie sighed.

"Hey... even if the circumstances weren't the most normal, love, love was natural," she said, and after a pause, she continued, "Because even though you're not making physical contact now, you can see how you long for each other with a look."

"I just wanted to apologize for causing pain, even though I know it won't be easy for you to forgive me," Christian said.

"Honestly, maybe it will be difficult, but for the sake of the new family forming, it's better for us to get along in peace... you also forgive me for treating you poorly," she smiled gently.

Susie now felt more prepared to face things after months of resting, giving herself time. Even using her maiden name felt strange but not unpleasant.

Perhaps life doesn't prepare you for breakups, but you must learn from them to cope with other aspects of life. She hadn't said anything, but looking at her ex-husband and his partner, it wouldn't surprise her if there was a wedding in a few months or a year.

After all, sometimes loving is also letting go, and it had been hard for her to understand.

~~~~~

Geri also had a conversation with Toto. She had been an observer for longer than Susie. She had even detected the affection between them when they claimed not to be friends; it was a complete lie.

When Christian made those controversial statements about his relationship with Toto, Geri had to endure how grumpy her ex-husband became because now he didn't have his friend in the paddock.

Yes, she endured it for almost two years, of him talking about how Toto wouldn't even let him speak, and they only greeted each other when the cameras were in front of them.

It seemed that the time they got stuck in the elevator was the trigger for a reconciliation and for something more to emerge between them.

Geri wondered many times what kind of lesson life was giving with this, but maybe it was something she would discover with time.

Toto entered the kitchen to give Olivia a soda, who quickly joined the other kids.

"The kids get along very well with Jack," she said.

"Yes, their siblings are older, and having kids their age seems to have delighted them," Toto replied.

"Now they are brothers," Geri said with a sweet smile.

"Yes," Toto said, returning a smile.

"Olivia insists she wants to see you dance with Christian," Geri said. "Have you thought about..."

She fell silent, but Toto understood the message...

"Yes," he said. "Although I don't know if it will be the right time."

"Look, things happened, yes, but it's been almost a year, and I have some time before announcing my divorce... you have time to plan this," Geri took a sip of her juice.

Toto chuckled softly.

"I didn't think you would support this idea... or any idea about us..." 

"Well, it's just something I thought should happen," Geri mentioned. "Have you never looked at your photos with him? The way you looked at him?"

"I... I think I looked at him as a friend," Toto said.

"Maybe... at that moment... but it was the omen of what was to come after," she said, smiling. "Sometimes we just shouldn't seek answers."

"I guess you're right..." he said.

"So I hope the news of your engagement comes soon," she said with a smile and then walked away to join the kids.

~~~~~

For many things to happen, they had to talk to trusted people for support, so as they approached their biological children... there were other "children" to approach... their drivers.

~~~~~

The first to find out was Lewis. Toto asked to talk to him privately, sounding so serious that for a moment, Lewis was afraid it might be some kind of reprimand. But he was surprised by the topic of conversation. Toto expressed how much he cherished their long years of knowing each other.

He said he wanted to talk about this because, in a way, it had to do with his work. When he mentioned that he was dating someone and with whom, Lewis was left dumbfounded.

"But tell me something, don't just stare at me," Toto said, seeming nervous.

"Well... I'm surprised," Lewis said. "Really, after things with the rivalry, it's weird... to imagine you two together... but nothing is impossible."

Lewis smiled.

"Does it bother you?" Toto asked.

"Why would it bother me? We have to separate the track from work," Lewis said. "Your personal life is very different... and here the heart decides... I hope you are very happy, Toto."

"Thank you, Lewis," Toto said with a soft smile.

From then on, Lewis became somewhat more amicable with Christian, unless there was controversy in the press. They knew not to take it seriously because the show must go on, although they almost didn't do it as they used to.

~~~~~

Max was another topic of conversation. Christian had to explain to him that he had been separated from Geri for a long time, and then he told him about his new partner, for which he needed reinforcements. So he called Checo.

The behavior of both drivers changed with Toto. Not so much with Checo; he always treated Toto the same way. It was Max who acted like a little boy when he spoke to Toto after the news.

"Hello, Max," Toto said, finding Max in the paddock.

"Hi... sir... I mean Toto... um... how are you?" Max felt like a fool... should he treat Toto normally, right?

"Fine... how about you?" 

"Also fine," Max said.

"That's good... well, good luck in the race, although I don't think you need it," Toto said with a smile, and before starting to walk away...

"Toto, wait..." Max said, and Toto turned. "I just hope that Christian and you are happy..." he said in a low voice.

Toto smiled and nodded. "Thank you," he murmured.

~~~~~

So everything seemed to be taking shape, and both were happy with that. An advantage of having discussed this with their drivers and trusted personnel was that they could move around in both team motorhomes, just to talk or spend time together. This was part of no longer hiding and now being more authentic.

When they spent time with their older children, it was a different atmosphere. Their older daughters had become very good friends.

Rosa mentioned that one of the two was the temptation of the other because both are from rival teams.

So they were arguing about who was the angel and who was the demon.

"You once said that Mercedes was heaven and that Red Bull was something like hell," Toto said, looking at the TV.

Both were lounging on the couch, while their daughters had snacks on the table and were also watching TV.

"Yes, I said that, although it could be different," Christian said.

"Then you're Beelzebub," said Toto.

"And what about you, the Archangel Gabriel?" Christian mentioned.

"They could be another type of angel and demon," Blue said.

"Who?" Christian asked.

The two girls looked at each other and burst into laughter.

"We're not going to tell you," Blue said.

"Although we'll just say that sometimes Christian looks like that angel, and dad looks like that demon, and sometimes they switch roles," Rosa said.

It seemed that both girls had managed to compare their parents to characters from books or television.

As part of a separation agreement, Christian knew that he couldn't stay all the time in the house where he mostly shared with Toto.

Of course, not all of Toto's things were there, so before making another move, they had decided to find a new home.

A home where there would also be space for the older children and the younger ones.

They had found a quite beautiful, spacious, and private villa, a place where they could walk together without the need to go out.

They planned to move until the next winter, just after the announcement of Geri and Christian was made.

The kids loved it; they had been given a playroom, and the karting places were nearby to take them for practice.

They also decided that there should be some moment in which they would tell their colleagues.

Not everyone, of course. Now both were the oldest Team Principals, and if they spoke of a real friendship, the only one left was Fred.

So one day, they scheduled a meeting in the paddock, gathered in the Mercedes hospitality. They chatted and joked as they always had over the years.

But before they found the right moment to tell him, Fred spoke.

"So, are you guys finally going to confirm that your relationship has changed?"

Both froze, and Fred laughed.

"Come on, guys, I've known you for years, and I really don't think it's a coincidence that both of you are getting divorced almost at the same time."

"Well, yes, we were planning to tell you..." Christian said with a smile.

"The question is, how did you come to that deduction?" Toto asked.

"Well... unlike the public, I am close to you... I know that your looks have changed... before, you looked at each other with affection, but today... there is a lot of longing in your gazes."

For both of them, the support was crucial. They didn't have to delve into how their story influenced them, they didn't have to know. They just had to understand that they loved each other now.

There were some people Christian had been hesitant to approach his parents. He was afraid of what they would say, fearing their disappointment after two failed marriages, wondering what they would tell him.

When Christian was in front of his parents, especially his mother, he turned into a child again.

But there he was at his parents' house, sitting with his mother for tea. His father had gone out and would be back soon. So, he was nervous.

His mother asked about the divorce, obviously, and he spoke about it only superficially. Then came the part where he had to mention Toto.

Although his plan was to speak fluently, he was being curt. Then his mother asked, "Are you with someone now?"

Christian nodded and felt like a child.

"And? Is that why you're being shy?" She said, stroking his cheek.

Christian sighed, "It's just that I don't know what your reaction will be," he mumbled.

When he told her who he was dating and, fearing her reaction, his mother only asked one thing.

"Does he love you?"

"Yes, I'm sure he does," he responded immediately.

"That's enough for me, then," she said. "Christian, dear, you're an adult now; you shouldn't fear the decisions you make. I appreciate you coming to tell me. I hope you find happiness."

Soon after, they planned how to tell his father; generations are different, and thoughts vary.

His mother liked Toto; she whispered praises to Christian about his good taste, making him blush. She said his boyfriend is a gentleman and loves him a lot.

---

When they told Toto's mother, it was different. Christian accompanied him to Vienna. Christian got to know Austria beyond just Red Bull, learning a bit more about its customs and the places where Toto spent his youth.

Toto's family gave him a warm welcome, and they talked about things Toto did when he was a child sometimes funny, sometimes embarrassing, making Toto blush. Spending their days in Austria that way connected them even more. Not that they weren't recognized; more than one person would. Still, they felt somewhat free.

Talking to Toto's mother was quite sweet; she wished them happiness and asked them to take care of their children.

Then they had a symbolic moment, going to the cemetery. Toto left flowers for his father, and Christian did too. He made sure to tell him that his son had taken good care of his family and that he is a great man.

---

So, this time, the garden was slowly blooming after the storm; everything seemed to be adjusting to a certain order.

For now, they didn't need anyone to know about them; they just needed to understand each other, to comprehend and love each other.

---

Christian opened his eyes slowly, and as usual, Toto was hugging him. Still drowsy, he smiled faintly; they were in their new home now.

In their now-home, they had decorated everything in both their styles. It turns out both loved the classic, though in different aspects Toto, more modern classic, and Christian, classic but rustic. Their home was a perfect blend of their tastes.

It's worth noting that their kids loved their rooms; they had thought about everyone's preferences and designed rooms that could be remodeled over time as some of them grew.

It was summer now, and they decided to spend it at home before going on any trips. Almost two months had passed since they started this new chapter, and everything felt quite settled, as if everything was in its place.

---

A few days ago, one evening, Toto invited Christian to watch the sunset. On the vast grounds, a beautiful green view spread out, with a fairly orange sun. Toto had prepared some small snacks with wine. So, they were nestled, back to chest, when Toto asked:

"Have you ever thought this way?" he said, hiding his face in Christian's neck.

"I really started fantasizing after the first almost-kiss," Christian was honest about it.

He could feel Toto's smile.

"You know... we still owe Olivia a waltz," Toto said.

"Right... Do you already have a plan for when?" Christian asked. Toto had been mentioning it lately, and Olivia wanted a specific song for them to dance to.

"Yes, but I need to know if you like how I want to dance it," Toto said.

"And how is that?" Christian asked.

Then Toto rummaged in the pockets of the jacket he was wearing, then embraced Christian again, clasped their hands together, and placed a small box in his hands.

And Christian's heart raced... because he already knew what it was. When he opened the box, two beautiful silver rings with stones were shining.

"I wanted to know if you want to dance that waltz... but let it be at our wedding... will you marry me?"

And Christian turned to him with a smile, sealing it with a kiss, "Yes, I do."

Smiling at the memory, his ring sparkled in the morning light; then he felt sweet kisses on his cheek and neck.

"Good morning," he whispered.

"Good morning," Toto responded. "How is my fiancé?"

"Good... if I'm by your side, I'm always good."

---

It turns out that happy endings can exist when everything feels bittersweet, but you have to work for it to happen, overcome challenges. Leave the fear behind—the fear of facing situations, people... and as Toto once mentioned to Christian, he would look forward even though the past would hurt for a while. They could march forward.

There was a moment when so much calm made Christian feel quite dazed; he thought something different would happen at any moment... but no, turns out that amid the storm, the light returned.

So, in the Garden of Eden, spring arrived, and it came to stay for a long time.

~~~~~~~~~

Helloooooo

Well and we come to the end of this adventure

Today there was a lot of sweetness❤️

[haggishlyhagging]

Let us suppose that natural selection has continually averaged the duty of the sexes to offspring, by modification and adjustment of each organism to its appropriate functions. At maturity, then, males and females would be true equivalents, each equally well fortified to meet its own responsibilities. Woman's share of duties must involve direct nutrition, man's indirect nutrition. She should be able to bear and nourish their young children, at a cost of energy equal to the amount expended by him as household provider. Beyond this, if human justice is to supplement Nature's provisions, all family duties must be shared equitably, in person or by proxy. Work, alternated with needful rest, is the salvation of man or woman. Far be it from me to encourage one human being as an idler! But in the scientific distribution of work, the males, not the females, must be held primarily responsible for the proper cooking of food, as for the production of it. Since we cannot thrive on the raw materials, like the lower animals, culinary processes must be allied to indirect nutrition.

In the progress of functions, the human mother must contribute much more towards the direct sustenance of offspring than any class of inferior beings. For many months before and for many months after its birth, her system must elaborate the entire food of her child. Its growth and activity are supplemental to her own, and are as absolutely at her expense as is the growth of her own right arm. But Nature has provided for that by giving her a smaller frame of her own, and less disposition to great activity personally, with less need of it in the interest of perfect health. Nature is just enough; but men and women must comprehend and accept her suggestions. For the best fulfilment of maternal duties, the mother must have comfortable surroundings provided for her without a large personal tax on her own energies. Therefore it seems to me to be scientifically demonstrable that fathers are equitably bound to contribute indirect sustenance to offspring in the shape of good edible food for the mother. To this we might add ready-made clothing and fires lighted on cold winter mornings!

Undoubtedly, in the division of the many complex duties of life, it may be equitable and decidedly best in many households that the wives should be responsible for the family cooking and sewing; yet it should be understood that they both belong more properly to the category of masculine function, and pertain to the indirect nurture of the youthful scions of the household. Every nursing mother, in the midst of her little dependent brood, has far more right to whine, sulk, or scold, as temperament dictates, because beefsteak and coffee are not prepared for her and exactly to her taste, than any man ever had or ever can have during the present stage of human evolution. Other things equal—during the whole child-bearing age, at least—if family necessity compels to extra hours of toil or care, these must belong to the husband, never to the wife. The interests of their children must not be sacrificed by her over-exhaustion, even though she were willing and eager for the sacrifice of herself.

-Antoinette Brown Blackwell, “Sex and Evolution”, in Alice S. Rossi, The Feminist Papers: From Adams to de Beauvoir

[blankd]

MushRush SRPG Devlog Aug 10th, 2024

Time for the first update!

READ MORE to see: my production plan, why I'm calling this MushRush, what this week's Golden Duncecap moment was (and how I solved it), and some of THE scrungliest assets.

NOTE: I will be tagging all posts like this with the 'mushrush SRPG' tag, yes even after I figure out a real name for this project

PRODUCTION PLAN

This update will be lacking in screenshots as I was mostly fiddling with the SRPG Plugin suite, locking in a battle/events roadmap for the entirety of the game, and organizing my notes into something more concise. The battle roadmap outlined their purpose (narrative and/or mechanically), if they had something noteworthy in plot or flaovr, their objectives and their failstates, and a rough idea of what visual assets they might require.

There is roughly a total of 33 maps: so far 5 are core/mandatory, 6-7 are optional, the rest are progression. The distribution may change as production goes forward, and the map count may even decrease but I'm absolutely holding myself from exceeding that 33 number as this number does NOT include whatever magic I need to use for towns or 'cutscenes'.

Additionally, I'm holding off on ANY art assets, writing, and such, until the game has a solid mechanical skeleton to be played through. Since there are a maximum of 7 (8 technically, as its sometimes a Unit on the map but has no personality) party members, I'm optimistic about its implementation and testing. I'm also already planning to reuse/upcycle the enemies from Moon-Scarred appropriately. Waste not, want not!

PROJECT NAME/WHY MUSHRUSH?

it's not a spoiler to say this (as it's visually obvious within the first map), but you play as a cleric of a Divine Mushroom and will be carting it around to solve the Undead Problem. I'm fairly bad at titles, so while I know the name Mysilla is important, I can't figure out a snappy game title for it yet, so MushRush will keep things silly. 8)

THIS WEEK'S GOLDEN DUNCECAP MOMENT

The Issue: I encountered my first (and hopefully worst) instance of things breaking where I could not get my template map to run at all- it would completely skip showing the Pre-Battle (win/lose conditions, etc.), (functionally) skip the Battle Preparation Phase (couldn't place any units, but I could 'Start' the battle with 0 usable units) and then enter an infinite loop of the Turn Incrementing even though no Player OR Enemy Turns were occurring.

The problem was so severe and 'unsolvable' that even my basic ass debugging method of putting trigger text to tell me if/when the code was running, would not trigger. After a LONG journey of consulting the demo's documentation- even literally copying the eventing framework, nothing was working.

As I went to reset the Plugins, I noticed that they were in the incorrect order. For context: a (purposeful) function of RPGm is that Plugins have certain priorities and sometimes need a specific order, but when LOADING the plugins into RPGm, it's alphabetical in its folder (because how would IT know what order it's supposed to be in). I fucked up in that I had only remembered to put the core plugin at the top, but loaded the rest alphabetically because I was lazy and had just forgotten this BASIC FUNCTION.

Once the Plugins were organized into their correct order as intended by the Plugins' creator, everything worked as expected. So learn from my mistakes and never forget Rule 0 of RPGm use- check your goddamn Plugin Order FIRST!!

THE SCRUNGLES (aka a Most Unflattering Teaser of the Main Cast)

White = not-Halfling Cleric MC Orange = Dragon(born) Lady Paladin Grey = Orc Rogue Purple = Drow Barbarian Blue = not-Tiefling Sorcerer Red = Human Wizard (a HUMAN? MODS, BAN HER) Green = Goblin Ranger (even though in my notes I call her Druid, whoops!) Brown = yeah that's a cart, what of it

While the broad strokes of the characters are present/set (I'm still figuring out Rogue's clothing, oops), enough details can still change or will later be included to make them less boring, such as how Red/Wizard is an older lady, but there's no point to putting the wrinkles at this stage.

I hope you look forward to whenever I can post their 'talking' scene sprites to show off more of their designs! Thanks for reading~

[grandhotelabyss]

Interestingly ambivalent essay by Terry Nguyen above about Anne Carson as a poet uniquely suited not only to the age of hybridized fragmentary prose-poetic forms but also to the ethos of Tumblr. It's hard to remember now that when she arrived she was obscure in all senses and heralded as a genius by Guy Davenport, Susan Sontag, and Harold Bloom; today, as our Tumblr ethnographer points out, she almost bears mentioning in the same sentence about online pop-poetry as Rupi Kaur.

I myself found Carson through Bloom, who called her one of the few living geniuses in his book, Genius. Before Tumblr existed, I remember posting a review of The Beauty of the Husband on Livejournal circa summer 2003. I used to enjoy teaching her works where appropriate: "The Glass Essay" as the hinge between the poetry and narrative sections of the class called Textual Analysis, between The Waste Land and Wuthering Heights; and Grief Lessons, the Euripides translations, in the drama section of Introduction to Literature, a book with its own unforgettable introduction, borrowed from the anthropologist Renato Rosaldo reflecting on the death of his wife:

Why does tragedy exist? Because you are full of rage. Why are you full of rage? Because you are full of grief. Ask a headhunter why he cuts off human heads. Hell say that rage impels him and rage is born of grief. The act of severing and tossing away the victims head enables him to throw away the anger of all his bereavements. Perhaps you think this does not apply to you. Yet you recall the day your wife, driving you to your mothers funeral, turned left instead of right at the intersection and you had to scream at her so loud other drivers turned to look. When you tore off her head and threw it out the window they nodded, changed gears, drove away.

Grief and rage—you need to contain that, to put a frame around it, where it can play itself out without you or your kin having to die. There is a theory that watching unbearable stories about other people lost in grief and rage is good for you—may cleanse you of your darkness. Do you want to go down to the pits of yourself all alone? Not much. What if an actor could do it for you? Isn’t that why they are called actors? They act for you. You sacrifice them to action. And this sacrifice is a mode of deepest intimacy of you with your own life. Within it you watch [yourself] act out the present or possible organization of your nature. You can be aware of your own awareness of this nature as you never are at the moment of experience. The actor, by reiterating you, sacrifices a moment of his own life in order to give you a story of yours.

Except for the extravagance of the head going out the window, this has scarcely been said better. Also, in graduate school, I and a few other students hung out for an hour with Carson when she came to deliver a lecture, and all I'll say is that what you see on the page isn't an act. She's a writer I've definitely gotten away from, though, I suspect for the reasons Nguyen enumerates. This being Tumblr and my not being of Tumblr's primary demographic, then or now, I feel an accusation gathering force, as implied by the conclusion of the essay on "The Gender of Sound" in Glass, Irony, and God:

Lately I have begun to question the Greek word sophrosyne. I wonder about this concept of self-control and whether it really is, as the Greeks believed, an answer to most questions of human goodness and dilemmas of civility. I wonder if there might not be another idea of human order than repression, another notion of human virtue than self-control, another kind of human self than one based on dissociation of inside and outside. Or indeed, another human essence than self.

The other human essence than the self, post-patriarchal as it is post-historical, is presumably that which is materialized on the timeline or dashboard, the wholly external distribution of sensibility and affect Grant Morrison foresaw as the MeMePLEX at the end of The Invisibles around the same time Carson was writing her most notable works, as explained in a footnote to an essay:

In the narrative of The Invisibles, this transcendence of the individual paves the way to what is termed the MeMePLEX, defined as “access to multiple self-images and potentials, a menu selection of faces, contradictory personas … or multiple personality disorder as a lifestyle option”

What kind of a rotten bastard am I that I am still capable of mourning what this displaced? Sure, I'm a man, more or less—but am I wrong?

[rametarin]

You know, the other half of how irritating dealing with radfems in the 80s was.

You all know the problem. You finally get the actual mask-dropped look of their face. The ugly truth; that radical feminism isn't, nor was it ever, about "equality." It was a very horrible set of values that appropriated the discussion and argument for women's equality and then wore it like The Thing. So you couldn't confront The Thing without appearing like you were just out to attack women.

But then upon this realization that the Good Guys are not The Good Guys, they're just another form of organized headfuck with their own ambitions and goals and pretenses, you're faced with another problem. Getting people to believe you. Proving it, in a time and place where they move with almost guerilla precission to not be recorded or heard by any that'd doubt or call them out, and securing themselves benefit of the doubt in their time and communities beforehand, leaving you looking like a babbling psychopath for accusing them of saying anything so heinous as, "men(class) are sexist."

You try to tell someone about this, but everybody you meet to talk about it is off base. Well, most. They kind of recognize what you saw, but their interpretation sucks. They, also, have an organized perception of this phenomenon, the problems it brings, and ideas on how to solve it. Unfortunately, they suck.

You try to explain radical feminism is wrong not because of the stated desire of liberal equality of the sexes on the basis of personhood, they, "agree with you" that radical feminism is bad, and then argue from a position of religious doctrine that states the role of a woman and her place. You try and square those circles and realize you are having the same conversation but saying entirely different things.

Frustrated, you stop talking to the person trying to evangelize you into supporting their form of resistance to radical feminism and their culture war, because while radical feminism is untenable and disgusting, you don't want the fucking religious right to supersede them.

So you try and contact other people and talk to them about the problems. They either are naive and have no experience in the matter one way or another and will think you're a crazed schizophrenic just shitting on supporters of female equality, or irrespective of radical feminism, just plain delusional. Even if you highlight every horrible thing written in the books by radfems, TERF or TIRF, in their own words, they just don't want to hear it. They either don't have the attention span or don't want the headache of dealing with the knowledge. So you out yourselves to them as a concern and they consider you a potential nutter and threat. That's another dead end.

Do you understand how much I despaired in the late 80s under this? Learning radical feminists' doctrine considered me an oppressor and oppressor-to-be in gradient just because I was male, and the way they encouraged other girls in my peer group to think, feel and act out against who they were told were their oppressors? It was like dealing with a horror movie, only the great unknowable Thing was a nebulous series of horrible, narcissistic feelings that could just colonize women and white knight male feminist minds, and get them into this histrionic bubble where reality didn't matter, just weird leftist edutainment cartoons and truisms from feminist literature.

The people you were most likely to meet that knew anything about it, already picked a side and wanted you to carry water for their particular ideology, or fuck off. The religious right just by their sheer MASS and open history and the stubborn, undying distribution of faith, and the radical feminists because they put the science of human communication to use and used every social utterance to hide motivation and skirt any kind of rule breaking. Like cold blooded, invisible used car salemen, or female humanities majors versions of Pick Up Artists.

You try to talk about these Gadflies, they just roil their eyes and treat you like you're telling an Everybody On the Bus Clapped story from the position of a Culture Warrior of the day. Not actually telling your experiences, or if you were and able to prove them, telling you they're anecdotes and don't actually matter or reflect feminism or the movement.

Whereas here in the 2020s, on the internet, it's like having the fucking forest of cryptids in a surveillance state. You people have no idea how good you have it. The fact the TERF Vs. Intersectionalist fracas for power in who rules doctrine in feminism these days is even ALLOWING the discussion of harmful feminist literature and academics, is something we NEVER were allowed to even discus in polite company, in the 80s.

We weren't even ALLOWED to acknowledge the Bad Radfems existed and were radfems, back in the day. You had to perform mental gymnastics and pretend they didn't exist, or else if you did, they'd write you off as "having joined the Other Side." And even any gradient of nuance, you may as well have been parroting expressions from Newt Gingrich or Rush Limbaugh.

Just being able to reblog radfem Ls.. you don't get how much of a luxury this is. It's like having a cheap, accessible digital camera to record an abusive schoolteacher that nobody could ever catch in the act or prove their abuse without hearsay. The sheer relief. The acknowledgement that it can be affirmed to be a common thing and not a paranoid, delusional fantasy of some gibbering tinfoil hat wearer surrounded by bottles of pee and Clancy novels.

The sheer strain of dealing with the inertia, not knowing if the person you were trying to tell your anecdotes about was going to just start easing away from you or trust but verify what you were saying. The frustration of the burden of proof being on you against a group that by nature is both protected by humanity and intellectually, morally, given the benefit of the doubt because of what alarming implications there are in imagining some sort of ulterior motive for radical feminism.

Even today, access to radfem literature is hidden by obfuscation. You're either a college kid or you're a friend and on the vibe with that particular kind of radfem in order to be able to access the books they're getting their ideas from, or the newsletters, or the magazines. Or else you won't know what they're discussing intra-group or what their subjects of interests are this month/season. Proving when they believe in hokum or are organizing to make something an issue like astro turf (like manspreading?) is difficult to impossible.

The internet and social media has removed some of that herarsay and impermanence of a conversation going up in thin air in time and space. It makes it easy to find people that share sentiments or stories like it and compare notes. And this is just so indispensible.. confluence across geographic regions at the speed of electrons.

Even if you have to nudge away irritating traditionalists and far-right assholes, it makes it easier to find the actual liberal egalitarians and organize. And filter.

[fic-history]

Where to Find Fic: Archives New and Old

As long as the internet has been around, people have been posting fanfiction to their own sites. However, if you want to find more than one fic for a certain fandom or ship, you want to go to an archive. In this iteration of Fic History, we'll be exploring an abbreviated history of fanfiction archives from the beginning of the practice to the present day. Let's dive in!

Older Archives

Older fanfiction archives, even the digital ones, had to be compiled by hand. In the days when fanfiction was primarily circulated by zines or by individuals, archives were the personal collections of fans who managed to get ahold of copies of the works they wanted to collect (Jamison 2013). When fanfiction distribution began moving to the digital realm, archives still had to be compiled by hand, but instead of finding copies of zines, authors would email their fics to archivists, who would upload, code, and link each fic to the appropriate webpages by hand. Archives back in the day were more commonly limited to a single fandom or an even smaller subset of a fandom, such as a specific trope or ship. Additionally, archives were most commonly held on websites, FTP sites, and mailing lists. Since archives during this time weren’t self-serve operations like most are currently, getting permission to archive from authors who had posted fics to non-archive pages was a very important part of archiving etiquette.

Newer Archives

For the purposes of this post, I’m classifying “newer archives” as anything from the general time period around the early 2000’s onward. Nowadays, most fic archives are automated, so authors can upload their own fics without someone else having to do a bunch of coding to get it online. Niche archives for specific fandoms, pairings, tropes, etc. still exist, but from what I’ve seen online, most people prefer to archive sites that collect fics of all shapes and sizes in one big searchable pile. I’m going to explore some of these archives below.

FanFiction.net

While FanFiction.net isn’t exactly new (it was created in late 1998), it’s most likely the first automated multifandom fanfic archive according to FanLore, and was the main multifandom archive of the early 2000’s. When searching for fics on FF.net, you can filter by a lot of different attributes such as word count, characters, genre, and pairings, but the site doesn’t have a tagging system like AO3 does. Many fans stopped using the archive after it purged all NC-17 content in 2002 and 2012.

Archive of our Own

The current darling of the fandom world, created and maintained by the Organization for Transformative Works. The idea for this website was created by BNF Astolat in response to the non-fandom archive startup FanLib, which wanted to earn a profit off of fic. She posted An Archive Of One’s Own to her LiveJournal in May of 2007 (which is where the website got its name), and in mid-November of 2009, the site had entered open beta, allowing anyone on the internet to make an account via a first-come-first-serve invitation system. AO3 is probably most well-liked for its highly comprehensive tagging system where authors can select from already-created tags or create their own, but also other features like built-in bookmarking, easy fic orphaning, and the ability to choose to read a work chapter-by-chapter or all at once, among other features listed here.

Wattpad

The kid sibling of the fanfic archive family. This archive is unique to the other two we’ve discussed so far because it allows authors to upload both fanfiction and original fiction. Fanfic and original fic are also treated the same way in regards to contests hosted by the site and popularity ratings. In terms of content rating, Wattpad separates fic into 13+ All Audiences or 17+ Mature. Wattpad’s most unique feature is the fact that they have an in-house production/publishing company that publishes stories professionally, and creates movies and TV shows based off of popular works such as the After series by Anna Todd.

The wonderful thing about fanfiction archives is that there are so many that there’s something out there that will fit every individual’s needs. I hope this post was informative, and that it helps you find the archive for you!

Happy reading,

-KP

[d1squ13tud3]

It's like this: a pregnant woman needs more of a nutrient. Suddenly she starts to crave peanut butter; not because she measures her own Vitamin E levels and then decides an appropriate source for more of it is peanut butter, but because her body knows her Vitamin E levels and then decides an appropriate source for more of it is peanut butter. The woman herself cannot just know what nutrient she lacks and what food would remedy this situation, and yet she gets the craving; the knowledge somehow travels from the body to the brain, even though it never organizes itself as knowledge — first it is a suboptimal proceeding of biochemical processes, then it might be something in between, and then last it is a desire for peanut butter. At the time of the desire, the woman can "realize" that she wants peanut butter, and then further infer that this want may be arising in response to a malnutrition; but these occurrences take place at least partially in language (because only language makes holdable to the mind concepts like 'eighty-three' as an exact quantity, or 'Vitamin E' as an exact thing) and I don't see why we shouldn't go ahead and be like, "it's obvious that actual feelingperception has to have already happened if thoughts about it are going to take linguistic form" — the linguistic form is merely a response to the actual thing.

The conclusion from this is "okay, so what she must be doing is feeling her likely advantage if she were to eat peanut butter." The thing that's especially remarkable is that it seems this message must be transmitted across different types of cells and tissues at least a couple times. It must be a biochemical Rube Goldberg machine, but of course it's a biochemical Rube Goldberg machine; because we are constituted of physical particles and various small pieces are continuously moving about our bodies—down to the level of small molecules like oxygen being taken in in one organ and distributed to every cell, each arrangement of the physical parts of our bodily systems will ripple outward due to the continuity of material flesh and sooner or later provoke a specific arrangement of the brain. When the ripples take dedicated pipelines to the organ or suborgan of our body dedicated to producing thoughts, it is no wonder the producing-thoughts part becomes (subjectively) different and produces different thoughts, because the producing-thoughts part is now (objectively) different — so how could what emerges from it be the same?

In this sense the existence of a mind at all is a miracle, or is the miracle; that we should have a conscious-subjective-qualitative experience where things can look and feel rather than just be is mysterious. Perhaps the answer is that we consist of specialized parts, but these specialized parts have to be part of one whole, and because they are different, they can't be the same.

Memory is selected for, and Mind is a consequence of Memory.

(What really seems to happen is if you're deficient of a nutrient and think of a food (activating its associations and memories) that you somehow associate qualitatively with the opposite of the deficiency, the activation of the memory of the food makes you aware that you want it.)

[lansitec]

Increasing Security and Effectiveness: The Disclosure of Helmet Tracker Technology

Introduction

As safety and efficiency continue to change, technological advancements are changing how we approach many facets of our life. The development of Helmet Tracker technology is one such revolutionary breakthrough. In businesses where helmets are essential, this state-of-the-art solution is not only modernizing safety regulations but also greatly increasing efficiency.

Helmet Tracker Technology: What Is It?

A complex technology called Helmet Tracker was created to make managing and monitoring helmets in a variety of professional contexts easier. This technology guarantees that helmets are not only kept track of but also maintained and replaced when necessary, whether in industrial, sports, or construction settings. It also offers useful information to improve safety procedures.

For More:

Principal attributes and advantages:

Real-Time Tracking: To monitor helmets in real-time, Helmet Tracker technology uses GPS and RFID (Radio-Frequency Identification). This function ensures that every helmet's position is always known, which is very helpful in sectors where workers travel over huge work sites.

Maintenance Monitoring: It's vital for safety to make sure helmets are in good working order. Helmet tracker systems may keep track of each helmet's usage and maintenance history and send out notifications when it's time for an inspection or replacement. This proactive methodology fosters a safer workplace atmosphere.

Data-Driven Insights: Helmet Tracker technology gathers information that goes beyond simple position tracking. It offers insightful information on usage trends, assisting companies in making well-informed decisions regarding the distribution of helmets, maintenance plans, and general safety procedures.

Effectiveness in Sports Management: Helmet Tracker technology is causing a stir in the sports world, even outside of industrial uses. It's difficult to efficiently manage a lot of helmets, whether for cycling or football. Thanks to this technology, sports teams may concentrate on performance instead of equipment logistics because it makes the procedure simpler.

Applications in All Sectors

Construction and Industrial Safety: In environments where worker safety is of utmost importance, Helmet Tracker technology is revolutionary. Having the capacity to locate, keep an eye on, and repair helmets guarantees that employees are always outfitted with the appropriate safety gear.

Sports Teams and Organizations: By effectively controlling their equipment inventory, sports teams and organizations may reap the benefits of Helmet Tracker technology. This include maintaining tabs on helmet condition, keeping an eye on usage, and making sure safety regulations are followed.

Emergency Response and Military: Helmet Tracker technology improves accountability and preparedness in emergency response and military circumstances when helmets are essential for safety. It guarantees that, in an emergency, each team member will have access to a well-maintained helmet.

Read More:

Badge Tracker

Obstacles & Things to Think About

Helmet tracker technology has many benefits, but there are drawbacks as well, such privacy issues and the requirement for appropriate data security measures. Achieving a successful deployment requires finding a compromise between the advantages of effective helmet management and personal privacy concerns.

Conclusion

Helmet Tracker technology is an example of innovation in action as we march into a future when technology will become more and more essential to our efficiency and safety. Its capacity to combine data-driven insights, maintenance monitoring, and real-time tracking seamlessly is changing how helmet management is approached in a variety of sectors. The era of helmet tracker technology has here, offering workplaces that are safer and more effective for both sportsmen and workers.

[joylinda-hawks]

The entertainment industry in CN does not particularly stand out from other industries. But connections between certain groups are important in this industry. This is especially important because you can earn a lot of money in this industry - as well as lose a lot of money. This industry also has its dark side, it can easily be used to launder dirty money. Simply put, all entities - acting agencies, recording studios, music publishing houses, film/series publishing houses, and streaming platforms - are interconnected in a more or less clear way. For all this to work, there must be an "emperor", someone who will ensure that the profits go to the right people or entities, and that rebellious people are punished appropriately. Most often, it is an organization that has a name related to the entertainment industry and suggests that it is the official entity that supervises this industry. An organization like CA/PA. It is this seemingly small organization that most depends on in C-ent, it is the one that deals the cards and decides who is at the top and who is to be pushed down. Its orders are carried out directly or indirectly by all entities related to the entertainment industry. In August 2021, CA/PA imposed an unjustified ban on ZZH. Consequently, thanks to her influence, ZZH was erased not only from the entertainment industry, but this boycott also had an impact on other aspects of ZZH’s life. From one day to the next, he was deprived of his job and the ability to even make purchases online. Could such a person, without clearing his name in court, rent a recording studio to record songs? A recording studio that is certainly subject to CA/PA, because without this dependence it could not exist and make money. The same situation applies to the label that distributes Imposter's new songs. Also, this label is certainly related to CA/PA and would the owners of this label take the risk of broadcasting songs by a person who has been banned by CA/PA. One might wonder whether these entities are not only used to launder dirty money. And when everything comes to light, it will turn out that in these companies there are only figureheads, paid people who will be scapegoats. Looking at it from the side, each of us should wonder whether, with such connections in c-ent, any CN label would take the risk of cooperating with ZZH. Does anyone here believe in the good heart of CA/PA that allows a banned artist to make money? The real ZZH, if he wants, will release his songs and perform them publicly on government television after regaining his good name. He won't do it secretly on foreign platforms. Because he is a citizen of CN who believes in the justice of his own country, not a shallow person counting on quick money.

[plannedparenthood]

Thank You, RBG

We are heartbroken. Supreme Court Justice and gender equality hero Ruth Bader Ginsburg died on Friday, Sept. 18. Her death is a painful loss for our country. She was a fierce and unapologetic warrior for equality, and her achievements are endless. As we mourn we’re also embracing our gratitude for her service to our country.

Cherishing RBG’s Legacy

Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg committed her life to protecting the rights, freedoms, and health of people across the country — in particular women, communities of color, and others whose voices too often go unheard. She was a true trailblazer who inspired millions of girls and women to fight through sexism and discrimination to make American a better place to work, to live, and to love. 

Her powerful words over the years, including her razor-sharp dissents, helped push our nation toward freedom and opportunity for all. Her spirit, values, and words will be deeply missed.

A Modern Revolutionary

Some revolutionaries shook up a society with anger burning and guns blazing. Others studied hard, knocked down an unfair system one peg at a time, and spoke truth to power while wearing a lace collar. That was Ruth Bader Ginsburg. 

She got two mottoes from her mother, Celia Bader (who marched for women’s suffrage): 

“Be independent,” take care of yourself without being financially beholden to a man, and

“Be a lady,” don't allow emotions like anger to be so consuming they get in your way.

When Ruth Bader Ginsburg saw anything repugnant — like systemic discrimination — she would get straight to work. It wasn’t easy. Over decades, Ruth Bader Ginsburg faced a slew of indignities. But she harnessed courage and resolve to strategically break down America’s sexist, unethical laws and institutions. 

To honor the Notorious RBG, we’ve collected our seven favorite facts about her life and her legacy.

7) RBG was defiant in the face of entrenched sexism in college and law school.

Most colleges didn’t accept women in the 1950s, and Ruth Bader was one of the first to break the gender barrier. At Cornell University, she was sexually harassed by a professor, who offered answers to a test in exchange for sex. She confronted him: “I went to his office and I said, ‘How dare you? How dare you do this?’ And that was the end of that.” 

At Harvard Law School, she and the eight other women in her class of more than 500 students were ogled, ignored in the classroom, excluded from the library, and asked by the dean how they could possibly justify taking a seat away from a man. But that hostile environment didn’t stop her. 

She fought it with brain power and superhuman physical endurance. She was so obsessed with the law that she’d regularly stay up until dawn studying. Well into her 80s, she retained her reputation for working until 3 a.m. and living on just two hours of sleep. 

While she was kicking butt at the top of her classes, she was also taking care of her young daughter and sick husband. Martin (Marty) Ginsburg contracted testicular cancer and had extensive radiation therapy, which kept him from going to his own law school classes. So, RBG organized his friends to attend his classes, worked through their notes with Marty, and typed up Marty’s papers — all while doing her own schoolwork on top of it. 

She tied for first in her class from Columbia Law School in 1959. She also was the first person to become a member of both the prestigious Harvard Law Review, and the Columbia Law Review — one of many of her unprecedented feats. She proved to those elite schools that a woman could succeed.

6) RBG showed the world what a partnership looks like in a husband-wife relationship.

Ruth Bader met Marty Ginsburg while they were both at Cornell University, and they forged an equal partnership from the beginning. He learned to cook so she didn’t have to. Later, he lobbied for her seats on the Court of Appeals in D.C. and on the Supreme Court. And he gave up his law firm in New York to follow her to Washington — a shocking move at the time. 

Here’s how she put it at her 1993 Senate confirmation hearing:

“I surely would not be in this room today without the determined efforts of men and women who kept dreams of equal citizenship alive. I have had the great good fortune to share life with a partner truly extraordinary for his generation. A man who believed at age 18 when we met that a woman’s work, whether at home or on the job, is as important as a man’s. I became a lawyer when women were not wanted by most members of the legal profession. I became a lawyer because Marty supported that choice unreservedly.”

5.) RBG won a whopping five cases before the Supreme Court — and they all advanced the Constitutional protection of equal rights for all Americans.

As smart and accomplished as Ruth Bader Ginsburg was, no law firm would hire her after she graduated from law school. Law firms slammed the door in her face time after time because they only hired men. She realized that “being a woman was an impediment.”

As Ginsburg navigated the legal working world in the 1960s, she saw how thousands of state and federal laws were treating women as second-class citizens. At that time, most states’ laws allowed employment termination for pregnancy, and let banks deny credit to women without a male co-signer. The Supreme Court had rejected every challenge to laws that treated women worse than men.

All this gender discrimination fueled Ginsburg’s drive for social justice. In the early 1970s, she followed the strategy of NAACP civil rights lawyer and Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall, who helped dismantle Jim Crow laws case by case over many years — leading to Brown v. Board of Education of Topeka, which outlawed racial segregation in schools in 1954. Like Marshall, Ginsburg centered her arguments on the 14th Amendment to the Constitution, which says all persons should be treated equally under the law.

Throughout the ‘70s, Ginsburg led the ACLU’s Women's Rights Project, for which she argued and won five landmark gender equality cases before the Supreme Court. As she said in the 2018 documentary RBG: "I knew that I was speaking to men who didn't think there was such a thing as gender-based discrimination, and my job was to tell them it really exists.”

These cases set the foundation for the country’s laws against sex discrimination, and helped eliminate being male as the criteria for employment, pay, and benefits:

Two cases in 1975 and 1979 established the requirement that women serve on juries, recognizing that they should enjoy both the benefits and the responsibilities of our judicial system.

“The vaunted woman's privilege viewed against history's backdrop simply reflects and perpetuates a certain way of thinking about women. Women traditionally were deemed lesser citizens.”

—Ruth Bader Ginsburg, arguing before the Supreme Court (Duren v. Missouri, 1979)

An employment benefits case in 1973 required the U.S. military to equally distribute family-based benefits for service members regardless of sex.

“In asking the Court to declare sex a suspect criterion, we urge a position forcibly stated in 1837 by Sara Grimke, noted abolitionist and advocate of equal rights for men and women. She said, ‘I ask no favor for my sex. All I ask of our brethren is that they take their feet off our necks.'”

— Ruth Bader Ginsburg, arguing before the Supreme Court (Frontiero v. Richardson, 1973)

Two cases in 1974 and 1975 threw out gender-based distinctions in survivors’ benefits, granting widowers the same benefits as widows. RBG argued that while giving widows special treatment sounded nice, it wasn’t. Withholding benefits to widowers devalued the work of their deceased wives.

“A gender line...helps to keep women not on a pedestal, but in a cage.”

—Ruth Bader Ginsburg, arguing before the Supreme Court (Weinberger v. Wiesenfeld, 1975)

4) At her confirmation hearings, RBG openly declared that abortion access is a Constitutional right.

At her 1993 Supreme Court confirmation hearings, Ruth Bader Ginsburg showed what it looks like to uphold constitutional rights. Unlike recent Supreme Court nominees, she affirmatively declared the Constitutional right to safe, legal abortion. When Sen. Hank Brown (R-CO) grilled her about her views on abortion, she declared:

“But you asked me about my thinking about equal protection versus individual autonomy, and my answer to you is it's both. This is something central to a woman's life, to her dignity. It's a decision that she must make for herself. And when Government controls that decision for her, she's being treated as less than a fully adult human responsible for her own choices.”

3) RBG wrote the historic decision ruling that state-funded schools must admit women.

In 1996, Justice Ginsburg wrote the Supreme Court’s majority opinion in United States v. Virginia, which ruled that the Virginia Military Institute’s men-only admission policy violated the 14th Amendment’s equal protection clause. Justice Ginsburg destroyed the Institute’s argument that its program wasn’t suitable for women. Instead, she wrote that:

“[G]eneralizations about ‘the way women are,’ estimates of what is appropriate for most women, no longer justify denying opportunity to women whose talent and capacity place them outside the average description.”

The school has admitted women since then, and — as Justice Ginsburg predicted — they have made the school proud.

2) RBG’s dissent from the majority in Lilly Ledbetter’s case led to the passage a fair pay law.

In 2007, Justice Ginsburg dissented in the ruling against Lilly Ledbetter — a tire factory employee who learned, decades into her tenure, that she was being paid much less than men in the exact same supervisory role: She was making $3,727 per month, while her male counterparts were making between $4,286 and $5,236 per month. However, she lost the case because the Civil Rights Act had a statute of limitations for reporting on discrimination. 

In her scathing dissent, Justice Ginsburg wrote that gender discrimination can be hidden for a long time and “the ball is in Congress’s court” to change the rule. In 2009, Barack Obama signed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act, which extended the Civil Rights Act’s statute of limitations and guarantees women equal pay for equal work.

1.) RBG put the smack down on TRAP laws in Whole Woman’s Health v. Hellerstedt. 

In the landmark Whole Woman’s Health v. Hellerstedt case in 2016, the Supreme Court — including Justice Ginsburg — ruled that two abortion restrictions in Texas were unconstitutional because they would shut down most clinics in the state and cause Texans an “undue burden” on access to safe, legal abortion. The case exposed the lie that anti-abortion politicians have been peddling for years: that it’s somehow “safer” when the state imposes medically unnecessary, onerous targeted restrictions against abortion providers (TRAP) laws. 

In her concurring opinion to the majority, Justice Ginsburg wrote:

“Given those realities [that keep abortion access out of reach], it is beyond rational belief that H.B. 2 could genuinely protect the health of women, and certain that the law ‘would simply make it more difficult for them to obtain abortions’... When a State severely limits access to safe and legal procedures, women in desperate circumstances may resort to unlicensed rogue practitioners... at great risk to their health and safety.”

With this historic decision, the Court reaffirmed the constitutional right to access legal abortion. This decision was a triumph for abortion access. And when one of the restrictions that Ginsburg helped strike down came up in another lawsuit this year, Ginsburg again helped lead the Court to protecting abortion access in a major Supreme Court victory for reproductive rights.

Ruth Bader Ginsburg rose for all of us. How will we work together to rise for her?

From day one, Justice Ginsburg recognized our constitutional right to control our bodies and our destinies. That is a legacy that cannot and must not depart with her. 

Justice Ginsburg stood up for us. Now it’s our turn. 

Follow Planned Parenthood at facebook.com/PlannedParenthood and twitter.com/PPFA to stay updated on how to get involved. Together, we will rise. 

By Miriam at PPFA

[prorevenge]

My Grandmother Put Greedy Preachers In Their Places .... Twice .... Even After She Died

TL/DR - My grandmother generously served her "Bible Believing Christian" church for almost 50 years, without asking anything in return. But when she became elderly, disabled and homebound, her church acted like she did not exist - until she was in hospice care and literally on her deathbed, when that church showed a sudden interest in telling Grandma to, "Remember your church in your will". She waited until exactly the right moment, in front of exactly the right audience, to expose these greedy assholes for what they were.....twice.

My grandmother was a member of a large conservative "Bible Believing" church for her entire adult life. This church, which I'll call BigWhiteChurch, was a member of a large Evangelical denomination. BigWhiteChurch was located in a prosperous suburb of a large city in the Bible Belt of the Deep South of the USA.

Grandma was very active in BigWhiteChurch. She worked in the nursery every Sunday morning, helped cook hundreds of church fellowship breakfasts and dinners, accompanied her children and grandchildren on dozens of church retreats and choir tours, taught Youth Bible Study on Sunday nights and was very active in supporting Home Missions, as well as helping with other youth programs. She always tithed, and often gave extra for missions and special offerings.

Grandma's greatest talent was making other people feel important. I've seen this first-hand many times. Although I belonged to a different church, I often visited with Grandma, and when I did, I usually went to BigWhiteChurch functions with her. I've seen her single-handedly cook breakfast for dozens of BigWhiteChurch Youth, a task which took over 2 hours, even in the church's large kitchen. Then, after the meal, she asked the group for a round of applause for the high-school student leader for, "Doing such a great job of organizing the Prayer Breakfast".

I remember that, on a BigWhiteChurch youth retreat at a rural Church Camp, she drove most of the night to go back to the city and retrieve a big box of evangelistic materials, that one of the Assistant Pastors (whom I'll call AssPastor) had forgotten and asked her to get, in time for our morning program the next day. His boss, the Senior Pastor (I'll call him PompousPastor), never found out that AssPastor had screwed up or that Grandma had fixed it for him. AssPastor never even thanked Grandma. Even though I was a child, this bothered me so much that I asked her about it. She said that she didn't mind at all; she told me her reward would be that those materials, "Would help children find Jesus".

Grandma's service to her church ended abruptly at the age of 73, when she broke her back in a car accident. Afterwards, for the last 10 years of her life, she was homebound and could not go to church because of this injury and declining health due to old age. Her mind was just as sharp as ever, and her faith remained sincere, but her body wore out a little more every day.

During those 10 years, she made many efforts to reach out to her church, its leadership and her church friends, inviting them to visit her at her home, etc., without success. Every one of these invitations was declined or simply ignored.

Near the end, when she was in home hospice care, she decided to plan her own funeral. She and my Grandpa called her church and asked for the Senior Pastor, PompousPastor, whom she had known for over 30 years, to visit her so that they could plan her memorial service, which she and Grandpa wanted to be held at the church.

PompousPastor was too busy, but AssPastor stopped by a few days later. According to my Grandpa, here's what happened at that meeting, with my Grandma literally on her deathbed:

Grandma, Grandpa and AssPastor discussed her funeral for a couple of minutes. Then AssPastor started pressuring her to, "Lay up your treasure in Heaven" by, "Remembering your church in your will".

Grandpa told him firmly that, "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss her will."

They went back to discussing the funeral for a few minutes. Then AssPastor steered the conversation back to Grandma's will, with liberal injections of how badly "her" church needed "her support".

Grandpa told him several times that it was inappropriate to talk to Grandma about her will or the church's financial needs, because she was terminally ill and in an enormous amount of physical pain. AssPastor would agree and briefly talk about the funeral, but would then go back to talking about the church's financial needs, heavenly rewards, "Where your treasure is your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:21, Luke 12:34), etc.

My Grandma started crying.

To put this into context, Grandma was more than a "Steel Magnolia". She was "Titanium Coated With Diamond Wrapped In Kevlar". She rarely ever cried, and never EVER cried about herself. Not one tear when the doctor told her that her back was broken so badly that she would never walk again, nor during the following 6 months in futile rehab. She would shed sincere but well-managed tears at funerals and while visiting family members in the hospital when they received bad news. She would cry to console others, "Weep with those who weep". But nobody - not Grandpa, not her daughter (my mom), nor any of my uncles or Grandma's siblings - ever remembered her crying for herself.

My Grandma was sobbing uncontrollably.

Grandpa, a retired steelworker, ex-Marine Sergeant and Korean War combat veteran, physically grabbed AssPastor and "escorted" him out of their house, not too gently.

Contrary to everyone's expectations, Grandma lived another 6 months, mostly because of sheer force of will. Eventually, though, Grandma passed away and we held her memorial service at the funeral home, not BigWhiteChurch. PompousPastor and AssPastor were conspicuously absent. In fact, there were no "Professional Christians", from BigWhiteChurch, at the service at all, not even in the audience.

To start the service, Grandpa stood up at the podium in front of the crowd and said, "Some of you may have heard that I dis-invited PompousPastor and AssPastor from this funeral service. This service is not an appropriate place for me to give you my reasons for doing this, although you all know me and so you know that my reasons are good ones. Also, my wife asked me to exclude them."

"This funeral service may be different from other funerals that you have attended. It is going to be an "open microphone" funeral. Everyone who wants to say something is invited to come up here and describe your friendship with my wife, tell a story about her that is worth remembering, or anything else that you want to say that will honor her memory and bring comfort to everyone here today. I have asked several family members to prepare statements, but you don't have to have anything prepared. Please, if you want to say something, come up here and do so."

There were about a hundred people at the funeral service; at least a third of them eventually stepped up to the microphone. The service, which we had planned to last about 30 minutes, lasted for over two hours and, as best I can tell, not one person left early. There was laughing, crying and hugging, three of her grandchildren played some of her favorite songs on the piano and guitar, we all joined hands and sang her favorite hymns.

Afterwards, dozens of people told my Grandpa that it was one of the most comforting and uplifting funerals they had ever attended. More than a few remarked that, "Funerals are better without preachers anyway", or something similar.

REMEMBERING HER PASTORS AND HER CHURCH IN HER WILL: THE ONE-TWO PUNCH

A couple of weeks later, it was time to start distributing the bequests in Grandma's will. Although Grandma and Grandpa dearly loved each other, they had separate wills because, she told my Mom, "That makes it easier for us to respect each other's turf", and because their lawyer had recommended it. Nobody thought that my grandparents were wealthy. They had lived in the same small but charming house in a prosperous, well-maintained suburban neighborhood for the past 50+ years, and had worked hard and lived modestly. But it was rumored that they had a very nice nest egg.

Of course, there is no legal requirement for anyone to attend "The Reading Of The Will", or to even have a "Reading". Modern telecommunications and near-universal literacy have made this quaint custom practically extinct.

But "The Reading Of The Will" was a tradition in our family because it was one of those events that gave our close-knit, extended family an excuse to get together. We never had "Family Reunions". They were too difficult to schedule for our large family. But we got together at birthdays, holidays, funerals, baptisms, etc., so that if you attended several of these, you would see just about every one of your cousins, aunts, uncles, and even great aunts & uncles who were Grandma's and Grandpa's siblings and in-laws.

With this family tradition in mind, many of our family members' wills often contained very personal bequests of items that had little cash value, but were the departed family member's way of telling their loved ones that they wanted to share a cherished memory with them one last time.

As an added incentive to attend, the family rumor mill had been buzzing with speculation, encouraged by Grandpa, that Grandma's will contained some "surprises".

The "Reading" was held in a conference room at a lawyer's office. Unsurprisingly, the attendees included my mom, as well as aunts, uncles, great aunts, great uncles and many of the grandchildren.

We were all surprised, however, to see PompousPastor and AssPastor from BigWhiteChurch. They informed us that Grandma's lawyer had told them that Grandma's will had bequests not only for BigWhiteChurch, but also for them personally.

Maybe it was just our imagination; but my siblings, cousins and I couldn't help noticing that these Preachers appeared to be actively salivating over their good fortune at Grandma's generosity.

Grandma had a large family, so a sizeable number of beneficiaries were named in her will. The lawyer's conference room was a bit smaller than an average middle-class living room. Extra chairs had been brought in, every seat was filled and people were standing in every remaining space.

There was barely space for all of us. Grandma's lawyer suggested that PompousPastor and AssPastor sit in chairs which were in the front of the room, next to himself. Since there was a large table in the room, this meant that the lawyer and these two Preachers were the only ones who were directly facing everyone else. Although the Preachers were gratified to be physically next to the center of attention, they did not notice, as all of the rest of us quickly noticed, that these seats made it easy for everyone else in the room to watch them closely, and practically impossible for them to leave the packed-to-more-than-overflowing room before the entire meeting was over, because they were farthest from the room's single door, and there were almost two dozen people standing or sitting between them and their only path to escape.

The bequests were quite generous, but pretty much what we had expected. Grandpa kept their house, its contents, their retirement accounts and everything that remained after all of the bequests had been satisfied. Children, grandchildren and several local charities received nice, but not extravagant, amounts of money. Several sentimental items were named and given to various friends and relatives.

Grandpa was first beneficiary listed in the will. But, after him, all of the other bequests were arranged in order of increasing worth. They started with sentimental items, which had very small cash value. Then each grandchild received several thousand dollars, then each son, daughter, brother, sister, niece and nephew received a little more, then several local non-profits received very nice amounts, etc.

Bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor were (almost) the last ones listed in the will. They listened politely to the other bequests, but with steadily growing anticipation, as they noticed the exponential upward trend in Grandma's largess.

When Grandma's lawyer got to the BigWhiteChurch and Preachers' part of the will, he said, "This is a bit unusual, but before I announce these bequests to BigWhiteChurch, PompousPastor and AssPastor, Ms [Grandma's name] requested that I read the following statement to everyone present."

He opened a letter that was written in Grandma's own handwriting...

"For the past 10 years, NOT ONE person from BigWhiteChurch has ever called me, come to visit me or sent me a note to tell me that they cared about me. Not one minister, not one deacon, not one of the church women, not one of the church members who I worked with for all of those years, loved dearly and thought were my friends. I worked very hard for you when you needed me, for many, many years. But when I needed you and your church, you all pretended that I didn't exist."

"I only got one visit. When I was dying and I invited PompousPastor to come to my house and help me plan my funeral."

"This was my last attempt, after many attempts that I had made over the past 10 years, to reach out to my church and Pastor, whom I still loved dearly even though they had made it clear that they did not love me. If only I could have my funeral at my church, maybe some of my church friends, whom I had not seen in a decade, would come to the service to see me one last time. And I know they loved to hear PompousPastor preach, so if he preached at my funeral, maybe they would come to my funeral to hear him, even if they would not have come to see me.

But PompousPastor couldn't find the time to visit me, or even call me to tell me whether or not he was willing to preach at my funeral. AssPastor came by my house, but he didn't want to talk about my funeral. He just wanted me to, 'Remember his church in my will'. That's all. Just, 'Remember his church in my will'".

"It was then that I realized that I had allowed my church to break my heart for one last time. But that was the last time. The VERY last time."

"AssPastor did not know it when he visited me, but Grandpa and I had already prepared my will, long before his visit, which did include a double tithe - TWENTY PERCENT - of my ENTIRE ESTATE, for what was now my former ... FORMER ... church ... BigWhiteChurch.

This amount was [named the amount - an enormous shitload of money - generating muffled "wows" from many of her heirs, including me].

"But I got to feeling badly that we had not personally remembered such nice people as PompousPastor and AssPastor. So I changed my will to include them by name. While I was at it, I changed the amount of money that I left to BigWhiteChurch to match all of the love that they have showed to me during the last 10 years of my life, when I was suffering and lonely, and no longer able to work my ass off for them, for free, like I had done for almost half a century."

"That is her entire written statement", the lawyer said. "Now let's get back to the bequests in the will."

"Bequest to AssPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to PompousPastor: One Cent".

"Bequest to BigWhiteChurch: One Cent".

The PompousPastor and AssPastor sat there looking like someone had just injected a gallon of novacaine into their jaws.

Every one of Grandma's family and friends felt an overwhelming urge to laugh out loud. But we kept quiet because we knew Grandma. We knew she wasn't finished yet. Grandma was simply setting them up for a one-two punch. The best was yet to come, and we didn't want to miss it.

"There is one last bequest," the lawyer continued, "For a charity called ...", which he named and I'll call "BlackCharity", then he paused before naming the amount....

Most of us had no idea what BlackCharity was. But, by the looks on their faces, we could tell that PompousPastor and AssPastor knew BlackCharity very well. Their faces displayed the same expressions of shock, dread and horror that they would have if the lawyer had said, "This bequest goes to The Demonic Baby Eaters to buy extra large rotisserie barbecue grills and tons of charcoal".

Every eye in the room was now fixated on PompousPastor and AssPastor.

The lawyer, who happened to be my uncle, one of Grandma's and Grandpa's sons, let the silence continue a few seconds more....

If we had been able to read PompousPastor's and AssPastor's minds, we would have known the history behind the looks on their faces. BlackCharity was sponsored by a large Black church just a few miles from BigWhiteChurch. They ran a free food/clothing bank, assistance programs for foster children, home delivery of pre-cooked meals for homebound seniors, legal aid, and other social services.

A long time ago, BigWhiteChurch, which was (and still is) 100% Caucasian, had provided a few years of financial and other support to BlackCharity. Then there was a very bitter, acrimonious breakup, allegedly because BlackCharity was practicing "The Social Gospel", while BigWhiteChurch was preaching "The True Gospel". BigWhiteChurch even sued to try to get some of their money back, although the suit was eventually settled and very little money actually changed hands.

But, this being The Deep South, everyone knew the real reason why BigWhiteChurch, or any white church, would stop supporting a Black charity: "Those n****** were getting uppity and not staying in their place". Grandma and Grandpa had seriously considered leaving BigWhiteChurch at that time. But they had reasoned that it was better to stay there and teach tolerance by their words and example. They knew they would never persuade everyone, but maybe they could reach some of the youth at their white church and break the generational cycle of racism. Grandma used to tell us, "My church is my Mission Field". We did not learn the true depth of her statement until after she died.

Since then, Grandma and Grandpa had secretly sent a portion of their "Tithe" to BlackCharity every month.

Most of Grandma's family, including me, didn't find out about any of this until after the meeting had ended.

But PompousPastor and AssPastor obviously understood what Grandma, by her actions which are more powerful than words, was saying to them. If you had grown up as a white person in the Deep South, as Grandma, Grandpa, PompousPastor and AssPastor had, you would understand.

To many white Southerners, this was one of the most personally insulting things you could do to them. It simultaneously labeled them as racists, condemned their bigotry and crushed their delusions of white superiority by saying, "These Black human beings, whom you hate, disrespect and have mistreated, are better people than you are. So they deserve my money more than you do".

Having allowed time for everyone to observe PompousPastor and AssPastor while they thought about how their white church had treated this Black charity, and how they AND their church had treated our Grandma...

The lawyer said, "The amount is...."

Then he named the EXACT SAME AMOUNT that Grandma had named in her handwritten letter, the huge amount of money that would have gone to BigWhiteChurch if she had not changed her will.

(source) story by (/u/BamaFan4Jesus)

[city-witch-magix]

Greek Deities

These are basic notes to look at as a beginning, there are only 15 deities from the website I used and I want to make sure my sources are good, so any feedback with corrections or additions you think I should add to it are greatly appreciated :)

Aphrodite, Goddess of Love

Goddess of love and romance 

According to legend, was born fully formed from white sea foam 

Came to shore and was married off by Zeus to Hephaistos 

While being the goddess of love and romance, she has a vengeful side 

Items for Honoring/Symbols: sea, shells, dolphins, swans, apple, pomegranates, and roses

Ares, God of War

Son of Zeus and Hera

Was known for his battle skills and getting involved in other people’s disputes

Often served as an agent of justice

Goes into war with frenzy and chaos

Items for Honoring/Symbols: 

Artemis, the Huntress

Greek Goddess of hunting and childbirth, she will protect women in childbirth but will also bring death and sickness

Twin sister of Apollo and because he was associated with the sun, she became associated with the moon 

Items for Honoring/Symbols: statue of her on your lunar altar, you can offer meat (hunted yourself is appreciated), and honey cakes, in some cultures you can offer a lock of your hair, you can also “adopt” and clean a patch of woods or take care of wild animals, dedicate time to help women succeed in athletics

Athena, the Warrior Goddess

Has shown up to help many Greek heroes

Athena helps warriors make wise choices in battle that will help lead to victory 

Child of Zeus and his first wife Metis, a goddess of wisdom

Often portrayed with Nike, the goddess of victory 

Items for Honoring/Symbols: 

Demeter, Dark Mother of the Harvest

Goddess of grain and harvest 

Mother to Persephone

Items for Honoring/Symbols: 

Eros, God of Passion and Lust

Described as a son of Aphrodite and Ares 

Evolved into Cupid in the classical Roman period

Items for Honoring/Symbols: offerings like fruits (apples and grapes) or flowers that represent love are appropriate, if you honor him for fertility add some fertility symbols

Gaia, the Earth Mother

Known as the life force that all other beings came from, including the Earth, sea, and mountains

Gave birth to the first races of divine beings, including three Cyclops (Bronte, Arges, and Steropes), three Hekatoncheires (each have 100 hands), and 12 Titans lead by Cronos, these 12 became the elder gods of Greek mythology

Items for Honoring/Symbols: organize a cleanup of a local neglected area, plant trees or a garden, set up a recycling program, adopt a stream or highway to take care of, help educate people on how to conserve water, energy, and fuel

Hades, Ruler of the Underworld

Son of Cronos, brother of Poseidon and Zeus

When the three brother escaped from Cronos they divided up the world they inherited and Hades became the Ruler of the Underworld and the inevitability of death caused his kingdom to be vast and he eventually became the god of proper burial 

Items for Honoring/Symbols: 

Hecate, Goddess of Magic and Sorcery 

Watched over maidens going through puberty and their first menstruation because she was a goddess of childbirth 

Evolved into the goddess of magic and sorcery and elevated into her position of being a goddess of ghosts and the spirit world

Items for Honoring/Symbols: adopt a dog/ volunteer at a shelter (dogs are sacred to Hecate), take care of a deserted/neglected place that has been abandoned by everyone else, walk along a dark road at night offering prayer and hymns to her

Hera, Goddess of Marriage

Wife of Zeus 

Guardian of marriage and sanctity of the home

Known to fly into a jealous rage and use her husbands bastards to hurt their mothers 

Played a crucial role in the Trojan War 

Items for Honoring/Symbols: represented by cows, peacocks, and lions, offer fertility fruits such as apples

Hestia, Guardian of Hearth and Home

Watched over the home fires and offered sanctuary and protection to strangers

Honored with the first offering at any sacrifice made in the house

On a public level, her flame was never allowed to burn out and the local town hall served as a shrine to her and at a new settlement her flame was carried from the person’s old settlement 

Items for Honoring/Symbols: try keeping a candle burning in her honor on your mantle or in your kitchen, offer wine, olive oil, and fresh fruit, when working on domestic or home-focused projects honor Hestia through song, hymn, or prayer

Nemesis, Goddess of Retribution

She was invoked against those whose hubris and arrogance got the better of them and was a divine force of reckoning 

Originally she just gave out what people had coming to them, good or bad

Items for Honoring/Symbols: represented by scales or the sword of divine vengeance

Pan, the Goat-Legged Fertility God 

Looks over shepherds and woods, is a musician, and invented the panpipes

Leads the nymphs in dances and stirs up panic 

Items for Honoring/Symbols: 

Priapus, God of Lust and Fertility 

Considered a god of protection in rural areas

According to legend, Hera cursed Priapus with impotence as payback to Aphrodite for her involvement with the Helen of Troy fiasco

Tossed down to Earth when other gods refused to live with him because he was doomed to live his life ugly and unloved

Statues of Priapus often had warnings threatening trespassers, male and female, with acts of sexual violence as punishment

His link on the website is glitched and goes to Freyja

Items for Honoring/Symbols: 

Zeus, Ruler of Olympus

Ruler of all gods and is the distributer of justice and law 

Honored every 4 years at Mt. Olympus 

Is married to Hera but is not loyal to her and has many bastard children

He controls the weather, especially rain and lightning

Items for Honoring/Symbols: 

Source: https://www.learnreligions.com/gods-of-the-ancient-greeks-4590177  and any other links used for individual gods

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Chao is married to Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell from Kentucky. Most of the wealth Chao and McConnell have disclosed in their annual government ethics filings comes from her inheritance when her mother died in 2007. She received as much as $25 million from her mother, these forms indicate.

The Chao family business is deeply entangled with Beijing. The family dry-bulk ship company has borrowed 100s of millions of dollars from Chinese banks, all of which are partly or fully owned by the communist regime.

The family business grew substantially over the four years that Elaine Chao was in the Trump cabinet (growth was almost half a million dollars a day). When Chao assumed office in January 2017, it's value more than doubled, the Foremost fleet was valued at half a billion dollars ($1.18 billion was the fleet value by the time Chao left office).

According to VesselsValue, a private vessel valuation service which shared its analysis with DCReport, the Chao family fleet in January 2017 consisted of 22 vessels. After selling off some older ships and ordering new vessels, the family fleet will reach 32 vessels this summer.

Walter Shaub, the former head of the Office of Government Ethics, said Chao’s actions appeared to be a clear abuse of power. “This is the kind of thing you would use in a training class to teach government officials what a misuse of a position looks like,” Shaub said. “This conduct falls into the category of extreme rather than gray.”

The inspector general made extensive findings that have astonished ethics officials in Washington, D.C., some of whom say they’ve never seen anything like it. The report shows clearly that numerous documented Chao actions could be felonies under federal laws designed to avoid official favoritism.

List of Abuses

1. Chao planned a China trip in which she would be accompanied by her father James and sister Angela Chao, CEO of Foremost Group. Draft itineraries included book signings and appearances for her father and her family joining her in official events and high-level meetings. State Department personnel at the American embassy in Beijing were alarmed at this plan, which was a breach of well-developed protocols about mixing official duties and family business. The trip ultimately was canceled because of diplomatic staff concerns. While planning that trip, a transportation department official emailed the secretary about whether her father wanted to meet with a former classmate, thought to be former Chinese President Jiang Zemin. Arranging such a meeting would not be appropriate conduct for a government agency.

2. Various department staffers were told to provide media and public affairs support to the secretary’s father, even maintaining lists of his awards and creating a media strategy and public relations plan for him and Foremost Group. Elaine Chao had her staff, on taxpayer time, edit a chapter from a book on her father, and she directed department public affairs staffers to edit her father’s Wikipedia page. The department’s public affairs director devised and recommended a strategy “amplifying the coverage in regional [Chinese] press, a means to build Chao’s profile and to share the story of his journey.”

3. Repeatedly transportation public affairs staffers arranged media coverage and coordinated photo opportunities for Elaine Chao and her father. They arranged targeted in-depth interviews with the secretary and her father intended solely for the Chinese market. In one event where Elaine Chao was asked to speak, the former secretary first asked if they would be distributing 500 copies of her father’s biography, Fearless Against the Wind. When Elaine Chao was invited to be the keynote speaker at a maritime event, she asked the sponsors to give her father an award, evidently as a condition of participating. Once the secretary got confirmation of an award for her father, she agreed to attend. Arrangements for that event included placing a copy of her father’s book on the chair of each gala attendee.

4. Elaine Chao asked staff to act as personal assistants for her and her family, especially her father. They were instructed to organize repairs of James Chao’s personal belongings, schedule personal appointments, FedEx Christmas ornaments to him – and send the secretary and her husband McConnell a list of those ornaments – and to get autographed photos for Transportation Department files. The inspector general’s investigators interviewed transportation ethics lawyers, who revealed that “they had no record of a request to provide ethics advice” for a number of the specific events listed above. More often than not, Chao’s top staff failed to bring potential conflicts to the attention of the ethics lawyers, as required by longstanding policy.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

I am completely sure that this is directly disproven somewhere in the Tolkien universe, but I also don’t care enough to actually look it up.

But anyway, what if elves in general (but Noldor in particular) have rather strict roles when it comes to titles. So an elven Lord has to do certain things (like collect taxes), but is absolutely not allowed to do other things because those activities belong to an elven Lady (this goes for Prince, Princess, King and Queen as well). It’s just that this system has nothing to do with gender, and barley has anything to do with class. If it’s relevant, elven partners discuss which role they want and use the appropriate title accordingly.

But the distribution of tasks (at least superficially) falls close to what a human would consider to be appropriate for a Lord and Lady, and elves are largely indistinguishable when it comes to gender anyway, which leads to a multitude of hilarious and also politically tense misunderstandings.

fuck yeah i love headcanoning fantasy races who don't do sexual differentiation and gender and all that the way humans do at least humans of the western variety but i don't have the background to get into that. dwarves just don't gender at all, i figured out pretty early, which is why i they/them gimli, but i wasn't too sure what to do wrt elves? they obviously Have Gender, and i like the idea of it looking superficially like the human system but operating very differently underneath, but i wasn't quite sure where to take it

but this made it click! the titles thing - i'm not sure why that wouldn't have much to do with class, you'll always have important people doing the important jobs (and vice versa!) but gender, yesss. elves describing a gender as a role in society they happen to be taking, almost like a facet of their job. and like, these roles aren't inherent or anything, a different person will do different things through the course in their lives, especially when they're immortal. the same elf might go by 'he' or 'she' or 'they' or some fancy-shmancy vanyarin neopronoun at different points in their lives, all more connected to their hypothetical dnd class than whatever their reproductive organs are doing that's a speculative biology rabbit hole i'll leave for another day

i feel like this could explain the apparent preponderance of dudes in the finwean family tree, for one. like, when the first humans come over the blue mountains, most-but-not-all of the local third-generation finweans are doing variations on the warlord archetype, which generally gets coded male. they get put down in the human histories as Always Guys, even though like half of them were going by she/her before the darkening. the exceptions, aredhel and galadriel, are both doing more subordinate female-coded social roles - very different female-coded social roles, if you asked them they would consider themselves different genders, or at most extremely culturally divergent takes on the same gender. orodreth probably also falls into this category, he's just either (a) doing a male-coded support role or (b) going down in human history as male from that time he failed to finrod

i dunno, i just like the image of humans initially assuming elf gender works like theirs, but slowly over the decades coming to the realisation that it’s completely different on every level below the surface