#a very strongly encourage women to look carefully at the people they have in their lives and reevaluate who should be in their space

[tigwalen]

if we're going to (rightfully) complain about the 4B movement and other forms of women's protest, could we at least provide better alternatives?

in the meantime, yes, I absolutely am cutting off interacting with most men unless it's absolutely necessary. if they want to make a world where the only man I talk to is my husband, they can have that.

[wolint]

GODLY INFLUENCER 2

GODLY INFLUENCER TWO

1 Peter 2:12

 

Still on the issue of influencers! Who can be an influencer? Who is an influencer? How do we influence others and why? Regardless of titles, genuine believers influence others. Influence could be either positive or negative and every influence has impact, just look at Eve in Genesis 3:1-6.

We are never meant to listen to the voice of a man but God’s voice, especially to men who are not listening to God’s voice. The Bible offers great insights into the nature and impact of influence, encouraging us to use our godly influence wisely and responsibly as Proverbs 27:17 says.

Unfortunately, there are more social and economic influencers than spiritual or godly influencers in our society today. God created us and gave us power, authority, and dominion over all things and when we come to Christ, our authority is even more profound because of the power in the name of Jesus.

Naturally, there aren’t any written manuals for how to live life but according to 2 Timothy 3:16, everything we need for life is in God’s word, the Bible, and Paul stressed the authority of all Scripture: authority in all things. The bible should, therefore, influence us in every way, in finance, business, marriage, child-rearing, health, and all others. The divine origin of the Scripture is the reason for its power and usefulness in training.

We are not to proclaim ourselves, and our abilities but Christ according to 2 Corinthians 4:5. The opportunity, privilege, and ability to positively influence people is only in Christ.

The enemy is even now using peoples’ skills, talents, and ability to negatively and it would seem successfully influencing the world, creating a false community that impacts the rest of the world with mostly demonic, evil, wicked, and unrighteous influences. But 2 Corinthians 4:3-4 says that “even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing”. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel and the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. People are blind to the truth of the gospel but are very accepting of the lies of the enemy but still want to hold God responsible and accountable for the state of the society.

So many people have been well and profoundly influenced by the woke culture, that many of the godly principles that governed the world years ago, that even unbelievers adhered to are now no longer necessary according to the influencers.

We have influencers telling women they have a right to their bodies and therefore can abort babies as they please, but the scriptures say God sees each embryo as a person in Psalm 139:16. Even believers are influenced to go with the lie that it is better to terminate a pregnancy than to allow the child to suffer.

Influence comes in all forms, we must crave to see the impact of the gospel, even as we offer a godly and positive influence on people we meet.

Sometimes, people have bad ideas and intentions but will not act on them until an influential voice gives them false courage to conduct their actions, such as the case in 2 Samuel 13 of the friendship between Absalom’s half-brother, Amnon and Jonadab. This friendship and influence led to the rape of Amnon’s sister, Tamar. One sentence from an ungodly and negative influence created a mountain of issues that affected generations, causing murder, division, and war. We must always remember that 1 Corinthians 15:33 strongly admonishes us that, “Bad company corrupts good character.” Jonadab was bad company.

Galatians 5:9 say that a little leaven leavens the whole lump. It only takes one “bad company” influence to cause us to lose our spiritual focus. Let us be aware of the influence of those we call our friends and choose them carefully. Be a godly influencer!

PRAYER: Father, may I always humbly submit to the leading of the Holy Spirit and never give place to the influence of man in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT PRAYER MIN.

[betterbemeta]

Politics are strongly driven by aesthetics and lasting, positive political movements (and responses to hazardous conditions!) absolutely need to take advantage of this because reactionary groups do.

There is no point trying to hold the high ground, 'we care about facts and reality" as if that's mutually exclusive with aesthetics. Aesthetics will win every single time.

This is not because people are stupid. The opposite, in fact: people are extremely keen to their environment.

'Politics' itself is ONLY the act of deciding for groups of people, and the navigation of how to decide things for groups of people. This can be as simple as 'your friends negotiate what to order on your pizza' or as complicated as 'policy changes that alter the chances of human survival.'

Our environment influences our decision making. A sense of urgency, social pressure, catharsis, people are constantly sampling what's around them and using that as information to help them decide things.

If we get the sense that we're in a hazardous situation, we'll behave more carefully. If we see cues from the behavior of people around us, it will impact our choices. If we feel a certain way inside and the world outside doesn't reflect that, we will either feel dysphoria or succumb to consensus.

Aesthetics rules these factors. When you watch a movie or play a video game that feels scary and tense, your attitude and behavior will change. When everything 'seems normal' even if we live in an area still strongly impacted by the most deadly plague of our lifetimes, our attitude and behavior will change. People change the way they dress to attend functions and political rallies and there is a reason why megachurches and the RNC seem to align on the same strategies and presentations to their attendees.

If some kind of set director or environment designer was able to hover over the world and, I don't know… Bloodborne-ize it? Dracula-fy it? People would feel very differently about anti-masking or anti-vaccination propaganda. The aesthetics of a gothic style horror communicate to us a sense of unease and make it very clear that we should be wary about the environment and choose accordingly. Even if the conditions are still the same level of risk, when we go to the supermarket and we see the same friendly colors, normalcy of how others dress, kids running around, many people will lower their guard.

If you have ever had a miserable entry-level or unpaid marketing job you already know to distrust the aesthetics around you, how our souls are in a great tug-of-war between different entities that make us want to feel special, cowed by their power, or even that 'all is well' when it's clearly not.

The right wing, because it can't outwardly state its actual political positions like "we believe in rigid top-down hierarchy" or "we are the attitudes that monarchy once wielded, adapted to survive modernity" out loud, because nobody without lots of money relates to them, relies almost completely on aesthetic appeal. It manufactures the sense of ease or unease that 'normal people in their place' feel as well as discontent with things that don't hurt anybody or were even normal decades ago. Aesthetics drives the decisions it encourages people to make against their own interests. When the enemies of the right wing exhibit anger, conservatives are the first ones to take advantage of 'the bad look.' And when they have unpopular interests, they are the first to normalize their 'look': when a war breaks out, just open a fashion magazine and start seeing 'military inspired' spreads.

Even when you look at conservative-linked social panics like, lgbt+ liberation, feminism, race war panic, or reactionary-religious 'satanic panic' their conflict-detection basis is largely aesthetics. Pink hair and limp wrists scare the right wing. Butch women and unshaven legs scare the right wing. BLM was smeared instantly for its 'look' which was seen worldwide: in Hong Kong, Bolivia, and France in the same year. Fear of 'anti-Christ' imagery extends to the ridiculous, I don't even need to explain that.

All of these panics are politics urging reactionary political choices, driven by aesthetics. There's no reason to do the exact same thing 'back' (which would be destructive) but allowing the right wing to control the way the world looks and how it makes us feel is awful.

Every time urgent crisis makes the world look 'different' it scares reactionary political forces.

So, I propose the next tactic of egalitarian politics:

we gotta make everyone really goth, really fast

[lillianofliterature]

LOTR preferences || 1/?

the first of many the lord of the rings and the hobbit preferences to come.

DO NOT REPOST.

if gifs not sourced, they were found on google, lmk if they’re yours!

(more below the cut-off)

what made them fall in love with you

aragorn

Your kindness and compassion. To Aragorn, you were the most radiant soul he had ever encountered in his life. Your innate kindness always managed to capture his attention and set his heart ablaze. You were just so good to everyone and he could never get enough of you. He often found himself just sitting in your company, listening to your conversations with the other members of your Fellowship (especially the talks you would have with the hobbits, who you seemed to enjoy the most). You were always eager to display the softest parts of yourself if it meant encouraging another.  He noticed every lovely thing about you and found himself drawn to your company at all hours of the day. 

boromir

Your strong-willed spirit and love for Gondor. Boromir could not help but find your strong-willed mind absolutely irresistible. When he had first met you amongst the council in Rivendell, he had been stunned into silence by your forthcoming opinions and wisdom on the matters at hand. In the following weeks as you travelled along with him as a member of the Fellowship, you had spoken openly about your home in Gondor and defended its integrity in your conversations. It was one night under the still, blue radiance of the Lothlorien forest that you comforted him about his strength as the son of the steward. You reassured him about the upheld honor of your shared homeland - and he knew he had found the one whom he would marry.  

faramir

The way you treat him. Faramir had never been treated to so well by anyone - other than Boromir - until you came into his life. Usually, people of the court and especially those closely associated with his father would compare him to his brother and echo the scrutinizing comments his father would always have in store for him. But with you, the loveliest soul he had ever met, he did not have to be someone he was not. You never ceased to treat him as an equal, you never compared him to anyone or anything (except to say that he was superior in practically every way), and you always found something about him to compliment. To say that falling in love with you was the easiest choice that had ever fallen upon his shoulders was an understatement. You had taught him how to gain his sense of confidence and self-worth, and Faramir adored you for it.

eomer 

You are an advocate for others. As a dear friend of his sister, Eomer had known you for most of his life, yet somehow he had been blind to the great store of strength and righteous anger you harbored against the injustice of your fellow people. It was on one day, by the fire pit in the Great Hall of his uncle, that he witnessed you lash out at the vile Grima Wormtongue, and his eyes had been opened. When Wormtongue’s unwanted compliments had once again fallen upon his sister, you had lunged to stand in front of her before he could twist his talons into her golden hair, spewing forth a barrage of defensive countermarks to his predatory nature. You had saved his sister that day and many after from the grime of a malicious minion, and Eomer soon found himself enamored by your natural tendency to become an advocate for others in any given situation. You were a voice for the oppressed, and he admired you greatly for it. 

eowyn

How you support her. The exact moment that Eowyn felt her heart align with yours was the day you encouraged her fight for equality. You never understood how there could be such strict prejudice against the strength and capability of a woman’s soul. From that first conversation onward, she found herself feeling rather supported and secure in knowing that she was not the only one who was ready to embark on a path to ensure a woman’s right to fight for her own people. From then on, Eowyn’s process of falling in love with you was a quick descension of admiration and warmth. You were an honorable person and she hardly went a day without thinking about it.

elrond

Your intelligence and humility. Elrond had known you for many centuries and had always taken note of your humble countenance and vast intelligence. You could often be found in one of the open libraries somewhere around the palace grounds, endulging every word from the tomes of his vast collection. He knew he had taken a misstep in keeping his feelings platonic when he found himself following your silhouette as you walked past him (usually with a book in your hands) and when he realized just how much he liked the sound of your soft-spoken voice. You were never one to engage in any sort of drama or foolish arguments, but you did have a voice when you felt it neccesary to speak up, which was always carefully said with avid wisdom riddled within your words. You bore an elegance in your being that he cannot put out of his mind - not that he would ever want to.

arwen

Your courage. Arwen had grown up surrounded by the voices of great councils and the many virtues of her elven people, but there was one thing she felt was lacking when it came to acting on the behalf of others - something that she found in you. You were a courageous being with the most selfless heart she had ever met. You were always willing and ready to jump to the aid of others, no matter their inferiority, which was not always true of her own people who sometimes thought it better to let the natural course of the world take its place. 

legolas

Your combat skills. To say that Legolas was impressed with your combat skills that equaled his own was an understatement, although he had no problem with being very hesitant about offering any compliments at first. In fact, he found himself intimidated by your grace and precision in the adrenaline of a battle, which was a feeling he was very unaccustomed to experiencing. Soon enough, after he learned to swallow his shock (and pride), he found that the two of you made a fantastic team - perhaps in more ways than one.

galadriel

Your good-natured spirit. Galadriel was not one to be easily caught off guard by what she heard in the minds of mortal men, but she most certainly was when she searched the contents your heart upon meeting you. In the humming chaos of your human mind, she saw your true purity glimmering at the center of your being like a beacon of hope. You sought no ill will toward anyone around you, nor could she discern any lust for power or riches. She found your sorrow and your compassion, mingled together like the roots of a great mountain - you truly desired happiness and contentment for those around you. She thought it both peculiar and incredibly fascinating, that a human could be so selfless and readily offer their companionship and love. 

haldir

Your communion with nature. It was common knowledge that the elves of Middle-Earth cherished starlight and nature above all else, save their own communities and ancestral homes. However, there were some that were far more connected to the earth and its wonders than others and were far freer in their spirit when it came to such things - you were one such person. When Haldir had discovered this about you, he couldn’t deny the great admiration he felt growing within him. There was never a moment when you were not speaking, singing, or giving back in some way to the world around you. You were truly in love with your world and your people’s way of life and Haldir respected you greatly for it. 

gimli

Your hair. Although it was true that dwarves were fond of facial hair on the features of their own women, Gimli held no prejudice against you for not looking a certain way. He found himself rather enamored by your natural beauty, although it was different from his own people. Specifically, the red-haired dwarf was drawn to your hair and the different texture and hue that it held from his own. Where his was scraggly and coarse (because it hardly saw a brush or decent scrub), yours was well-maintained and shimmered in the sunlight. It might have seemed somewhat shallow of him to fall in love over your looks, but he felt no less attracted to you after he really got to know you. In fact, he liked you even more.

frodo baggins

Your companionship. You were always there for Frodo Baggins, no matter what situation had risen out of the blue. There were only a few people who he felt truly understood what he had gone through and you were one of them. All throughout his life, you had been a true friend and had never given him a reason to distrust you. You were someone he could depend upon and somene he grew to feel very strongly for over time. Frodo was sure about his feelings for you when he realized that should you ever be gone from his side, his life would be rather grim without having your light spirit there to illuminate it. He wanted to ensure that would never happen.

samwise gamgee

Your dancing. Samwise Gamgee had been irreversibly smitten with you since the first time he caught you dancing to a fine tune that was being played in the market square. Since that moment, his eyes always sought you out wherever you happened to be. There was never a moment when you weren’t tapping your toes or humming along to whatever melody happened to be be playing around you - for there was always music to be heard somehwere in the Shire - and there was always a frushed twirl to your skirts whenever you moved about a room. Your zest for life, just like the spices he loved mixing with his homegrown herbs, mesmerized the hobbit. 

merry brandybuck

Your free spirit. Meriadoc Brandybuck was sure he would have ended up a bachelor with the way he always seemed to attract mischief with his fun - that was, of course, until the young hobbit ran into you. You seemed to have the same hankering for adventures, no matter how silly or preposterous. In fact, you had quite a few hair-brained ideas of your own to contribute to the fun you both seemed to find together. Because of that fact, Merry felt he had found a kindred spirit with you much like he had with his best friend Pippin - except he wasn’t in love with Pippin - he was in love with you. How could he not be?

pippin took

Your acceptance. It was no easy feat to find yourself weak in the knees around Pippin Took, the foolish young hobbit who seemed to have invented the word klutz. He was an idiot most times and other times he was just plain reckless - but you never scrutinized him for that. In fact, you felt as though Pippin was a breath of fresh air, especially with how much he managed to make you laugh (usually at his own expense, but he never seemed to mind). Pippin appreciated the fact that you liked him as he was, mess and all. Even more so, he loved that you were always there to get him out of trouble, no matter the hour or the incident.

[bloodyshadow1]

Beauyasha week Day 3: Scars

You're Worth Trying to be Better For

I did metaphorical scars for today's prompt, not much more to say. Hope you like it, more prompts on their way, at least 1 more, though I'll do my best to write more. If you like my work and feel like encouraging me to write more, leave a comment if you want. They help more than you know

“Hey Yash,” Beau said calling after her girlfriend. They had just dealt with a band of giant spiders that was plaguing a small town in the southern parts of the Empire. It wasn’t a hard fight, not after the year they had, but for most normal people they could have been a problem.

Beau was worried, her girlfriend had been distant the last few days, even quieter and withdrawn than usual. Beau didn’t want to push her, she didn’t have a lot of experience being a girlfriend and didn’t think forcing Yasha to talk about things would help. But now that she wasn’t even scavenging parts of the dead spider’s to eat as a snack later Beau knew something was wrong.

So when Caleb created the tower for the night, Beau moved to talk to Yasha in private. The barbarian didn’t even come to dinner with the rest of them, she just retreated to her room in the tower without saying a word. She had barely used it since they became girlfriends, most nights they spent together in Beau’s room. But the last few days they both slept alone, Beau respecting Yasha’s privacy up until now.

Beau knocked on the door, there wasn’t an answer, but the door opened all the same. She saw Yasha sitting on her bed, just staring at her wildflower mural turned away from the door. “Yasha,” Beau said again, more pleading this time as she tried to keep her heart from breaking.

Yasha didn’t say anything but she did stop and turn around to look at her. Her eyes were distant and unfeeling, like they had been when they first met and Beau was trying to ignore the pain. She was already doomed, in the, ‘when she’s hurting I’m hurting,’ phase of their relationship.

“I’ve tried to give you space,” Beau said inching closer, “I really have. But you’ve been so closed off the last couple days. If I’ve done something wrong, I’m sorry, please just tell me so I can fix it,” she begged.

That got a reaction of Yasha, “what are you talking about,” she asked unsure of what Beau meant. Her voice was rougher than usual, after not being used for days it came out even more gravelly.

“Y-you’ve been so distant and quiet,” Beau said softly, not trying to agitate Yasha, trying to not sound too accusing. “I figured it must be something I did, so please just tell me so I can make it right.”

It all came crashing down to Yasha, it wasn’t about Beau, but it wasn’t not about her either. Yasha knew, a part of her at least, knew that Beau for all her strength, and beauty, and brilliance, was incredibly fragile. In their time together, Yasha had done her best to make Beau feel as loved as she deserved to mitigate the damage her family had done to her. No wonder she’s like this, Yasha withdrawing, instantly translated into her doing something wrong.

“Beau,” Yasha said softly, “come here,” she patted a spot next to her on the bed.

Beau moved slowly to sit down at Yasha’s side, not wanting to say or do anything to upset the larger woman. Beau knew it had to be something she did, it was always something she did.

“Beau,” Yasha said with her hand on Beau’s chin so her girlfriend would look at her, “you did nothing wrong, I promise.”

Beau was a damn good liar, that helped her know when people were lying to her. She knew in her very soul that Yasha, tall, powerful, beautiful Yasha wasn't lying to her. There wasn’t a trace of falsehood in her violet and green eyes. “T-then why,” Beau started to ask but couldn’t form the words.

“It’s not because of you Beau,” Yasha said feeling ashamed she had put her girlfriend through, “it’s because of me. A few days ago, I had a dream and it bothered me,” that was an understatement if there ever was one. She turned away from Beau, staring into her beloved’s face would make it harder to formulate her thoughts, Beau had the right way of making her mind leave her in all the best ways.

“Was it, you know,... Obann,” Beau asked carefully. Yasha had spoken the the party about her time under Obann’s control, but she knew it was still some of the worst time in Yasha’s life under his control.

“No, I haven’t dreamed about him in a long time, thankfully,” Yasha said struggling. Beau deserved to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt. “It wasn’t a nightmare, it was a good dream, a very good dream,” she said more to the room than to Beau.

“Well…, that’s good, right,” Beau said, knowing the answer. Yasha wouldn’t have been so distant if it was a good thing.

“The dream was good,” Yasha said gripping her hands, her knuckles turning white, “it was of Zuala.” Even after all this time it hurt to say her name.

“Oh,” Beau didn’t know what to say, she knew Yasha was married before, that her tribe killed her and she ran away. But she barely mentioned her and Beau didn’t want to pry. “Well I mean that’s normal, she was a huge part of your life, I’m sure you have a lot of good memories of her.”

“I didn’t dream of our past Beau,” Yasha said, the words coming out like a curse. When Beau didn’t say anything she continued, “it wasn’t real, of course, but when I dreamed I wished it was. I dreamed that I charged forward instead of running away, that I took my wife in my arms and we ran away together. I dreamed of what our life would be together, if she survived.” Yasha sounded miserable.

“I can see why that would make you feel terrible once you woke up and she wasn’t by your side anymore,” Beau said.

“I woke up miserable because I remembered that I loved you,” Yasha shouted. “No, not like that,” Yasha said moving to Beau whose face fell, cupping Beau’s face so she couldn’t look away. “I felt like I was betraying you…, by dreaming of her.”

“What,” was all Beau could get out.

“I love you Beau, I love you so much,” the pain in Yasha’s voice hurt. “But I can’t love you with all my heart. Zuala will always be a part of me, no matter how hard I try to bury my memories of her, they keep bubbling up. When I’m awake you’re there and I don’t think about her as much, but when I’m asleep alone, I can’t help where my mind goes. If I could stop them I woul-.”

She would have kept going but Beau stopped her with a finger to her lips. “Yasha,” Beau said calmly, “I don’t want you to forget about Zuala.”

“H-how can you not,” Yasha asked, as tears started to pour down her face. “How can you be with a woman who doesn’t love you with all her heart. You deserve someone who loves you more than anything in the world, Beau.”

It took a bit for Beau to get her thoughts in order, to decide on what she was going to say. Finally, she came to a conclusion, “Yasha, can I tell you a…secret I guess. I wasn’t really trying to keep it a secret but I also haven’t tried talking about it.” She looked at Yasha for confirmation and when Yasha gave her a nod she continued. “I have a crush on Jester, a big one. I’m not going to break up with you, or cheat on you, or do anything with her, I promise, but it’s still there.”

“I don’t really know when it started, you know how I am with pretty girls, she was the first real friend I ever had and then as we kept traveling together maybe something grew as my feelings for you grew also. I felt like shit, like I was living out every lesbian stereotype in the dirty books I read as a kid, obsessing over my best friend who has a crush on a guy, it’s so cliche, but it still happened. I couldn’t control it any more than I could control falling in love with you. I’m happy for her and Fjord, and I’m even happier for me and you, but I still have feelings for her. They’re not nearly as strong as the feelings I have for you now, but when you were controlled they were pretty damn strong because Jester’s cheerfulness was one of the few things that could soothe the ache in my heart not knowing if you betrayed us or not.”

“I’m not trying to say this to hurt you or to pull this out to counter what you told me, but I just wanted you to know because you need to know you’re not the only one whose heart is made to love more than one person. After telling you that, do you still love me,” Beau asked very quietly now, truths on the table, ball in Yasha’s court.

“Of course not,” Yasha said, surprising herself with how easy it was to say. Yasha knew in her heart that there wasn’t anything Beau could do that would make her hate Beau.

“Well I feel the same way,” Beau told her, giving her girlfriend a smile. “I know you don’t want to talk about Zuala, and I respect that. But I’m not the jealous type, I know she was beautiful and amazing. And I’m just happy she was there for you when you needed her to be and I’m so sorry she was taken from you before her time.” She kissed Yasha’s hands.

“You didn’t even know her,” Yasha said, trying to resist, but if their time together has proven anything, she is bad at resisting Beau.

“No,” Beau admitted, “but you loved her, you love her, I can’t believe that someone you love so strongly, even after all this time could be anything but wonderful.”

“You know that means you too now,” Yasha meeting Beau’s eyes for the first time in a while.

“I-I don’t know about that,” Beau mumbling some excuses. It was funny to see her stumbling over her words, but it hurt to see her so down on herself. Beau was amazing, she was strong, smart, funny, beautiful, and so much more, yet she can’t see it. Beau’s heart was so strong but covered in the scars of what her parents had done to her, just like Yasha’s had been for what the tribe had done to Zuala.

“Well how about we help each other out then,” Yasha suggested. “Not today, but someday, I would like to talk about Zuala, if you’ll be willing.”

“You telling me stories about beautiful women, how can I say no,” Beau said, trying to be funny.

“And maybe, I can show you how wonderful you are so you stop hating yourself Beau,” Yasha said, cupping Beau’s face softly in her massive hands.

“I’m not sure it will work Yasha, I’m pretty broken,” Beau told her, “but I’m willing to try anything for you.”

“That’s all I’ll ever ask Beau, because I won’t stop trying, ” Yasha said, kissing her. Her heart was still hurt, but it was healing, a lot of that is thanks to Beau. And she’d love Beau enough to make her stop hating herself one day. There would always be scars on her heart from losing Zuala, but that was okay because women digged scars. At least her woman did and that was all that mattered.

Notes:

To be honest, I'm not super happy about the ending, I rushed it because I wanted to post today and I have my dnd game in a few minutes but I hope you enjoyed it all the same.

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Together

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33196183

Kairi creeps into the Hall of the Cornerstone and ends up seeing a memory of Minnie's--and perhaps gets more than she bargained for, as her own emotions and regrets come to the surface--and with it a friendship that will carry her through any trial.

For @mademoiseli Happy late birthday, sweetie!

Kairi sat down on the steps that led out of the Hall of the Cornerstone, wondering if she should go down there or not

She wanted to be a bad girl for once—as a sort of fun, perhaps, as her world had so recently fallen down—and go there against her better judgement … and some of the other Guardians of Lights’ judgement as well, if she was being honest.

Because now that they all knew that strong lights could be used to house darknesses without being corrupted—and strong lights and darknesses might call to each other like moths to a flame—there was even the chance, that a strong light like the Cornerstone of Light could resonate with Kairi too strongly. What if it tried to pull her into it, or she pulled it into herself?

These were the reasons that the Guardians had thought it a good idea that Kairi stay away from the light that kept Disney Castle safe from harm.

…But curiosity had killed the cat, and Kairi found that was very much her case when she found herself wandering down into the basement, anyway, just to get a look.

Though what ended up drawing her attention was not the Cornerstone of Light. Rather, it was this almost liquid—thought not quite—with wisps going into it, on a nearby table that had recently been erected, if its drying silver paint was anything to go by.

Kairi grew closer to it, peering into the water, where she curiously saw what looked like Lady Daisy, Huey, Dewey, Louie, Chip, Dale, someone who looked as though they were related to Goofy, and Aqua watching as Queen Minnie gave Pete an earful!

Kairi had no idea how this scene was playing out before her, without sound, but she definitely wanted to find out! So, she walked even closer to it, but ended up tripping, with her face falling face first into the water… and there, she could see this memory—perhaps that’s what it was—in all its glory.

“…Pete, we counted the votes very carefully. Ventus, Aqua, and Terra won. Oh, Pete. I think you tried to do something good, but you were doing it for the wrong reasons, and you went about it the wrong way. Still, a couple of citizens must have thought you had goodness in you, because you actually got a few votes. They knew you were looking out for them.”

Kairi didn’t know what was going on exactly, but maybe she could make some guesses based off of the Queen’s words? But Pete seemed to be boiling with anger, as he often was, and Queen Minnie seemed to be very sweet in dealing with him now and trying to reassure him that the people still cared about him, Kairi saw.

And though this was surely a memory of the past, the Princess of Heart almost wanted to believe that the other light wielder could get through to him. And that maybe things could be different for them all, going forward, if she could…

But then it all took a turn for the worst, as Pete turned towards Queen Minnie angrily.

“Big whoop! I don’t need their lousy votes! Just cough up my prize!”

And then he extended a hand towards Queen Minnie. And Kairi didn’t know if he’d meant to harm her or steal the prize, but she felt her heart go out for the small queen all the same, and her plight here.

And Kairi wanted to believe she would have had such strength and heart in the situation, without her own king.

“Pete!” Queen Minnie exclaimed. “They voted for you because they believe in you and care about you. How could you look down on that? I’ve tried to forgive a lot of things you’ve done, but this is too much. Now you’ve finally crossed the line.”

“Like that matters to me,” Pete shot back rather expertly, not seeming to care how he’d hurt Queen Minnie in the slightest with his line. And it pained Kairi to see.” Besides, what are you going to do about it?” he challenged.

“Ha! I’m gonna let you cool off for a while. Guards!” And at that point, some of the magic brooms showed up and carried Pete off, while Queen Minnie frowned at him, heartbroken, the whole time.

Kairi wondered if this was when he was banished to another dimension—another world—for all he’d done, like Sora had told her about before. She wouldn’t have been surprised.

And with that last sad image of the Queen being the last thing Kairi saw, the memory must have been over, and Kairi was pulled out of it, gasping. And she was surprised to see none other than Queen Minnie herself was watching her now!

“Quite an ordeal, wasn’t it young Kairi?” she asked. And somehow, she seemed to look at Kairi with sadness for Pete, she guessed. But not for Kairi. And no disappointment, either. It was as if she was okay with Kairi spying on her memories. Even though she’d had no right to do it at all.

“Your majesty,” Kairi stammered, dropping to a bow right away, and trying to find her graces, and the girl who might have once belittled Sora and Riku for getting into a situation, because her past self never would have… how sad it was that her present self would. “I’m so, so sorry. I had no right at all to do any of this. Especially since you’re being so kind as to let us look all over your world for Sora right now… I’ll go now.”

Queen Minnie laughed. And it was a pretty sound… and an encouraging one, that had Kairi stopping from going back up the steps that led to the audience chamber, and rather turn around to face the woman. “I acted quite like the Queen there… but part of me regrets it, you know? Because surely Pete had done worse things than that. Why was it him not appreciating people believing in him, that was the final straw for me? Was it that I was just too angry that day?”

“I think my subconscious mind, though not my conscious one, partly wondered about that when I saw your memory just now, too,” Kairi admitted, offering Queen Minnie a small smile, in seeing that they thought very much the same.

“N-not that you were too angry!”, she quickly explained, realizing her words could be misconstrued. “But what it was about that day in particular… And sometimes I wonder about my own anger. Like why I was so livid at Organization XIII. Maybe if I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have been part of the Keyblade War and Sora would still be here…”

And God help her, Kairi was crying now. Something she definitely didn’t want to do in front of this Queen at all.

But Queen Minnie was merciful and kind, and motioned for Kairi to lean down, so she could wipe her tear away. “You mustn’t blame yourself for that, Kairi, dear. As I understand it, if you hadn’t been there, Sora would have died, and that awful prophecy about light expiring would have come true. So, it was a good thing you were there!

“And goodness me, you don’t have to be so formal with me. I’d like to think we’re all friends here. Call me Minnie!

“But it- it’s hard, isn’t it? I think we who strive closer to the light, often doubt ourselves when we get away from it. But I think those reasons happen for a reason, too. Like with Pete: when you can’t see the goodness of people recognizing you, I feel you can no longer see anything. And you can too easily become caught in the darkness then… and I think that’s why I did what I did with Pete … Do you understand, Kairi?”

“Yes, I think I do!” Kairi beamed, pulling the mouse Queen into a hug. And she didn’t know if this was right or dignified or whatever, but since Queen Minnie said that they could be friends, she decided to just go for it.

And when Queen Minnie hugged her back like it was the simplest thing in the world—magic and healing seeming to fill up Kairi’s heart as she did—she wondered if this was the start of something here.

“Thank you so much for comforting me today… Minnie. I don’t know what I would have done without you. And thank you for not caring that I accidentally spied on your memory!”

The two women started out of the audience chamber now, and would begin a journey through the hall and back to the library, much like the one Queen Minnie had taken with Sora before—feeding off each other’s light as they did so—and it would end up being a key to them finding Sora.

Queen Minnie held Kairi’s hand in hers, like Donald and Goofy had Sora’s multiple times, and Mickey had Riku’s, that many times, as well. “Hehe. Of course, my dear. And know that we’ll find Sora together.”

“Together.”

Author’s Note: Yes, it was a pensieve Kairi used. And my explanation for one being here, is that Disney apparently almost made the first Harry Potter movie. This is mentioned in the “A Conversation Between Daniel Radcliffe and J.K. Rowling” video on the Deathly Hallows DVD.

Written for you, Mademoiseli! I hope you enjoyed!

[solasan]

28 for june/adam úwù

#28: one person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss

2.7k, set in early book 3, ao3 link if you’d rather read it there

Over the years, Adam has often heard it said that history has a habit of repeating itself. Be that in small ways or larger ones, it would seem that some souls simply find themselves walking the same paths without forethought or awareness; that some events cling too strongly to the earth to be entirely washed away, no matter how hard the world around them might try.

Adam puts little stock in most belief systems. Perhaps the closest label he might ascribe to would be ‘atheist’, but even that is a mere afterthought; he is not Nate, and he has had plenty of time to grow bored with philosophy and religion.

And yet. Even he must admit that, in this one small analysis, the world is not wrong; history does repeat itself.

The Unit have not been so relegated to protection detail since their first arrival in Wayhaven. It has been only a matter of months since those days — barely a blink of an eye, compared to his lifespan — and yet the return to such a routine is… galling. Incongruent. Bizarre.

So much has changed. Murphy. The Maa-alused. The carnival itself.

June.

The detective, he means. She has — they have all — changed.

Still. Cycles. The world has only one way to turn. The enemy has come, as they always do, and once more he and his team are left to protect the thing their foe wants most.

The Trappers are not Murphy, perhaps, but in the end, the result is the same.

Farah and Nate have spent the most time guarding the detective as of late. Morgan’s senses are too invaluable to spare when she could be patrolling the town for threats, after all, and Adam—

Well. He has had his own work. His own patrols. And he has always been better suited to working from a distance, these past few months notwithstanding.

Still, Adam du Mortain has never been a man to shirk his duty. And, whatever efforts the others might make on her behalf, he knows that the detective will never be as well protected as she will be with him.

By which, of course, he means that he is the strongest of their team. He means that he is capable of feats that the others simply are not. He does not mean— It is not—

You understand.

It’s a brisk morning, for all that they’re cresting summer now, and the detective spends the entire walk to Haley’s Bakery with her hands in her pockets, huffing out misty breaths and dancing on her feet for warmth. 

She’s replaced her much-beloved denim jacket with something thicker, puffier, something that rustles every time she moves, and it makes her look somehow smaller than she already does. As though her usual oversized hoodies do not complete the job well enough.

They do not talk. They have not talked, not properly, not since—

Well. Since the carnival, perhaps. And to look at her, you would not know it; she still smiles at him, still jokes and laughs and shines like the sun made flesh, but there is something… wooden to it, now. As though she is waiting, every moment, for it to fall apart.

Her pulse still skips to look at him. Not as much as it had that night, their palms brushing, her radiating warmth at his side, but— but it happens.

And he is a fool for encouraging it.

They pass through the door to the bakery as Adam is still flagellating himself, the bell ringing somewhere above their heads and the scent of pastry and coffee filling the air. And under these fluorescent lights, the detective blooms.

“Honey, I’m home!”

The baker is behind the counter, fussing with a display of cakes, but she straightens up when she sees them, turning a grin on the detective that is almost as bright as June’s own. “June! How’re you doing today?”

“I’m good. How’s my absolute favourite baker-slash-coffee-dealer on this cruel cold morning?”

The baker snorts. “You don’t have to butter me up, y’know.”

Detective Lovelace drapes herself over the counter as though it were a pillar of fine marble and not merely a sickly-smelling construction of glass and pine, batting those big brown eyes at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her grin — in a feat Adam would previously have thought impossible had he not known her these past months — widens.

The baker rolls her eyes with a good-natured smile, darting a curious look Adam’s way that is soon redirected by his stony silence. “Right.”  

Then, wiping her hands off on the striped apron across her front, she says, “your usual?”

“Fuck yeah. You’re an angel, a light in the darkness. A goddess among women. A Titaness.”

Her nose wrinkles as she heads for the coffee machine. “Titan— are you calling me fat?”

“I’m calling you beautiful, Hales, don’t get it twisted.”

The baker snorts again, shaking her head.

And then there’s a pause. Adam does very well with pauses, generally; he learned remarkably quickly how easily they could be ignored, favouring silence above small-talk even in his youth.

But this is— this is different. He cannot quite pin down why.

The detective clears her throat, then nudges him with an elbow. “Want anything, big guy? I’m buying.”

Adam takes a moment to reply, because the proximity, brief as it was, has her scent catching in his nostrils, drowning out vanilla and cinnamon with strawberries and cotton. He is used to the smell of nicotine and smoke by now, after so long with Morgan, but perhaps the detective smokes a different brand, because for a moment he finds himself dizzy.

The moment passes. He clears his throat, shakes his head, then says stiffly, “I’m fine.”

The detective’s brows rise. “You sure? Nate loves the blueberry muffins here.”

“I am sure.”

“Hm. Is that a Nate thing, then? Or, like— no wait, Farah loves junk food. Is this an Adam thing, then?”

He blinks at her for one very long moment.

Eventually, she rolls her eyes and clarifies quietly, leaning close again: “Y’know. Human food. Not liking it, or whatever?”

They are the only people in the bakery this early in the morning, and the baker is still preoccupied with the coffee machine, which is whirring loudly. If it had been otherwise, perhaps Adam would reprimand the detective, but she is… careful, here, as she so rarely is with anything else.

And so he allows himself to respond, “Nate and Farah are… different. For the rest of us, it is— unappetising, shall I say.”

The detective hums thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. Then her nose wrinkles. “Shit, dude. Sucks to be you, I guess. The four-cheese from Giuseppe’s is to die for.”

Adam’s lips twitch. “I shall have to take your word on that.”

“Yeah, guess you will. So, wait, why is it so unappetising? Is it just, like, by comparison? Is a good ole’ cup of O-neg just totally orgasmic, or something?”

Did— she cannot have just said what he thinks she has just said. Can she?

Of course she can, he thinks, meeting her dancing eyes. She’s June.

Adam shakes his head, aiming for chiding and falling short. “That…  is not the word that I would use.”

The detective purses her lips. “You’re dodging the question, Agent du Mortain.”

“You ask poor questions, Detective Lovelace.” 

She laughs and it is a startled sound, like a bird pushed from the nest, but it’s— goodness, it’s lovely. He has not made another person laugh in so very long. He had… forgotten, quite, just how thrilling it could be.

“Answer it anyway?”

Sighing as though he were greatly put-upon, he acquiesces, “our senses are— too refined for most foods that you would consume. It can be overwhelming.”

She processes this for a moment or two, her brows furrowing. Then: “Wow. And here I thought nothing could overwhelm you.” 

June’s grin is cheeky, yes, but in a warm kind of way. A wonder. She is a wonder.

“Now, we both know that cannot be true.”

Her smile turns surprised, confused and just-slightly lopsided, and she blinks at him rapidly for a moment, her brow beginning to furrow. 

Why would you say such a thing, you imbecile?

June’s mouth opens as though she were about to reply, and Adam is both dreading and waiting with bated breath for it—

“Here ya go.” 

Adam flinches. The baker has set down a thickly-scented to-go cup of coffee, and she’s looking between them with the beginnings of a smile lurking at the corners of her lips, brow cocked.

His fists clench. He affixes his gaze to a spot over the baker’s shoulder, a part of the chalkboard where an old offer has been only-mostly scrubbed away, and very carefully thinks of nothing.

After a moment, the detective clears her throat. “Uh, yeah. Thanks, Hales. Purveyor of the precious bean juice.”

A huff masquerading as a laugh. “Anytime, June. You want anything else? Maybe something for your man here?”

Her man. What— what foolishness, what absolute madness. He is— Adam is no one’s man, and he is most certainly not the detective’s, whatever anyone else may think, however she might make him feel.

Not that she makes him feel anything in particular, of course, however much Nate might argue to the contrary. Not that his chest had jerked at the very idea of them being— of her and him— of the baker being correct in her utterly outlandish supposition.

The detective laughs, too loud and just an octave off-kilter. “You should do stand-up, Hales, you’d kill.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Adam won’t have anything. And I— just the coffee, you know me. I live off this shit. Like, uh— like zombies, only it’s caffeine instead of brains. The Walking Dead, Lovelace style.”

“Right.”

The baker rattles off a price and Detective Lovelace passes the cash over, and then they pause briefly at the condiments for her to spoon in one, two, three, four sugars.

“I can feel you judging me from here,” the detective comments on their way out the door, and Adam frowns.

“I am not judging you.”

“No, you totally are. You get this tiny little crease between your eyebrows when you’re judging something. And I should know, man, I’ve seen it, like, a gazillion times.”

His lips purse, and he makes a conscious effort to relax his forehead and smooth out his brow.

The detective snorts. Then, in sing-song: “I still saw it.”

He shakes his head. “I was merely thinking that things… make a great deal more sense now.”

“Hey, I am a grown-ass woman, du Mortain, and grown-ass women can have as many sugars in their coffees as they want.” And then, as if to prove her point, she takes a sip.

The urge to smile is one he only-barely manages to tamp down on. “So it would seem.”

“Glad we agree.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpses her smile. All teeth and pink lips and dancing eyes. The early-morning sunlight is slanting over her face, seizing her bronze hair and setting her aflame. She really is just—

His foot catches on a cobblestone. It takes only a matter of milliseconds to right himself, but still. Adam has not tripped in— in decades. Centuries, perhaps.

“Woah there, old man,” the detective teases, knocking her side into his. “Don’t go breaking a hip there.”

He grumbles something unintelligible, shoulders tensing when she laughs.

“I am not going to break a hip.”

“No? Could’ve been quite the fall, man. And you’ve gotta be careful, y’know, in your twilight years. Ooh, double joke. Those are rare.”

Adam scowls. “I am hardly as breakable as your kind.”

She whistles lowly. “Damn, the human jabs are coming out. Must’ve been a nasty fall. Gonna tell me to get off your lawn next?”

“I should never have told you my age.”

The detective grins. “But’cha did.” And then, elbowing him again, she adds: “It was kinda funny, admit it.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“Oh, c’mon.” She steps into his path, grinning up at him without a care in the world. “Just a tiny bit? A little? A smidge?”

Despite himself, he feels his lips beginning to jerk. And he can hardly have that, so his scowl darkens and he shakes his head. “Detective.”

“Adam?” She bats her lashes.

And in the face of those big brown eyes and that sunshine-smile, his resolve crumbles. “Fine.”

“Fiiiiiine— what?”

“Fine.” He gives her a stern look, because perhaps he is willing to unbend for her, but only so far.

June pouts just slightly, and it is then that he becomes aware of the smudge of coffee at the corner of her mouth. Tiny, barely noticeable in fact, just a stain of deep brown lapping over part of her lip and some of the pale skin around it, but suddenly the only thing that he can see.

He clears his throat. “Ah. You have—”

“What?”

He gestures vaguely to his own mouth, and June blinks at him, wide-eyed, for a moment, as though he has done something truly obscene, before realisation hits and she laughs.

“Ah, shit. Thanks.” She tugs the sleeve of her hoodie out from her jacket and uses it to rub her lips roughly. “Gone?”

“No.” He points to the approximate spot on his own face again, and again she misses.

And then, easy as breathing, his hand is reaching out to catch her chin and he is wiping it away.

Her lips are— they’re soft. Warm. He can feel her breath against the pad of his thumb, and that is warm too. And she is wonderfully yielding under his touch, her teeth faintly solid through the meat of her lip on his up-swipe, mouth all pink and plush and lovely.

She smells like coffee now. Would she taste like it? It would be so easy to just lean forward and find out. To learn just how abominably sweet those four sugars really are. They would be bearable, he thinks, on these lips. DMB would be bearable on these lips.

Of its own accord, his thumb begins to trace the rest of her. The pretty swell of her lower lip, right in the middle; the other corner, her teeth flashing white behind it when he peels it down slightly; the fine curve of her cupid’s bow, sturdier than any archer’s. She is so soft. Almost fragile. Like china, only— only warmer.

Her throat bobs when she swallows.

Would she let him kiss her? Would she welcome him? 

Would she kiss him back?

He cannot bear to meet her gaze just yet, but her breathing is a little uneven, and when he listens— yes, there it is. The stutter in her pulse that he has become so accustomed to, that he treasures so dearly. Her ears are pinking, too, a flush beginning to spread across the ripe apples of her cheeks.

Perhaps— perhaps she would?

When he has finally gathered his courage, he lets himself look her in the eye. And such splendid eyes they are too, darker than usual but so big, like a doe’s perhaps, her lashes all soft and wispy.

June blinks, pupils blacker than anything and so much bigger than he’s ever seen them. By God, they are so close now, she and he. Her breath just-barely brushes his chin with every exhale. He wants to feel that breath all over him, wants it against his lips, wants to taste it and commit it to memory so thoroughly that he will remember it a hundred years from now. A thousand. 

His thumb has stilled, index and middle finger cradling her chin, and oh, it really would be hardly anything at all to tilt her head up. Just a little bit. Just enough that he would not need to stoop in half to meet her.

She swallows again, blinking rapidly, and her tongue darts out to wet the side of her mouth that he is not touching. Adam finds himself following it with his eyes, his need sitting so heavily in his chest that he can scarcely breathe. 

And then she clears her throat; a creaky, hoarse sound, as though it were full of rocks. “Did, uh— did you get it?”

“Yes,” Adam croaks, snapping his hand back as though it had been burned. “I— yes.”

June nods as the world tidies itself into its proper perspective around her. “Right. Right. Cool. Uh— tha— yeah, thanks.”

“You are welcome,” he acknowledges roughly, not looking at her, rubbing his thumb over his fingers to make sure he does not forget her skin. 

He cannot forget her skin.

[americangodstalk]

American Gods fan-made RPG: The Old Gods (how to create)

If you want to play or create an Old God, we would advise you first to make sure to check first material about the mythological figure you want to use. Check encyclopedias about the religion or culture you want to explore, research online for articles or studies of the god or goddess that will be your character. Mythologies and legends already have so much funny, crazy and incredible character descriptions, traits, trivia and stories that you cannot ignore them. Use them as much as you can, play them straight or subvert them, make them a major point or just a reference, but using as much real-world knowledge as you can will only make the game more interesting.

A first important note to make is that an Old God doesn’t actually have to be a “god” per se. Old Gods include mythological monsters, mythical figures, fairies and spirits of all sorts, supernatural or divine creatures... A God is an entity that people believed in, whose stories were told and passed on, and that received worship in a form of another (and worship can be as simple as avoiding to do a specific thing or cross a specific place out of fear of the entity). By this definition angels, demons, jinns, fair folk, trolls and yokai are all gods. Do not feel like you need to get a big name - you can always play with smaller figures. In the decay and loneliness of the Old Gods, all are now equal. 

When you select a mythological, religious or historical figure, always remember that they need to have been brought to America somehow. You cannot have an Old God whose people never set a foot in America. All the Old Gods are not native of the land - they were brought here (for Native American Gods, a separate section will be written - this one focuses mostly on non-Native old gods). In the American Gods universe, most of the theories of “early contact” with America are actually true. In the American Gods canon, the Vikings, the Egyptians, the Romans and the Chinese all discovered America before Christopher Colombus set a foot there (though all never stayed for long in this land). Feel free to dig up “early contact” archeological theories and use them in your canon. Of course, you can also choose to have the Old Gods be brought strictly by historically-accurate immigration waves. This is strongly encouraged - and we advise you to make a bit of research about the history of immigration and ethnicities in the United-States. 

Once you have your Old God or Old Goddess, you need to think of what his or her appearance and personality will be like. Personality wise, the original myths and legends usually give enough material - though you should always remember that some are in America for centuries now, and lived through many hardships. Their personality very probably changed in front of the misery of their situation and whatever new activity they took upon themselves to survive. Some might be in denial, others depressed or angry... As for the appearance, while you should base yourself on canonical representations of the entity in their original religion or culture, a few things should always be remembered:

They appear as regular, human beings. They can have or hide some unusual traits (trolls will appear as massive, tall or obese humans, while ifrits can need to hide behind sunglasses eyes made of fire and gorgons will need to always cover their head to protect the snakes) but they all appear to be regular, if maybe a little odd, humans. They can take more fantastical shapes, but they usually only do so in the Backstage (see the devoted section). The Old Gods always reflect their original culture - do not take an Egyptian god and describe him as a white-skinned man, or do not take a Chinese goddess and describe her as a copper-skinned woman (unless the original mythological description demands it). Japanese gods will appear as Japanese men, Slavic goddesses will appear as Russian or Eastern-European women. Another element that should be remembered is that the Old Gods are weaker in America, old and abandonned, and this often reflects in their appearance. Most of them appear as elderly people, or as sick in a way or another. Not all have to look weary and ancient - some still look like young people (especially if they are ever-young entities), but while in legends they will be beautiful youth, in American they can turn into acneic and lanky teenagers. Or they can keep their original beauty and majesty - if they have enough worship and belief. In general, the level of beauty, youth and anomaly of an Old God appearance is linked to their level of “Divine Decay” - see the corresponding section. 

Once you have selected their appearance and personality, powers should be considered. The Old Gods are creatures of magic and legend. Not all have fantastical powers, but many do. Once again, we can’t advise you enough to make research about the supernatural abilities of the creature or entity you want to play as - they usually have a given set of powers you should reuse in the game. Gods in general have a certain set of already-given abilities (be it fast-healing, shapeshifting, mind-reading...), but their level of power will again change depending on their “Divine Decay” (see the corresponding section). Always remember, in doubt, that the gods are reflections and embodiments of what they represent. A god of youth and beauty will appear as young and beautiful, while a goddess of fertility and abundance will appear with generous curves and a planturous body. 

Find the exact place in the United-States your Old God resides. Usually, the Old Gods do not travel much. They tend to stay in a given city or state for a certain amount of time. You can choose a geographical location based on the influence their native culture, religion or people had on it. You can select a place you are most familiar with, so as to master its geography better. Or you can select a place where it will be more convenient to play. 

The most important and final section of the character should however be the way they feed. 

Gods are born of belief - but they survive on worship. The Old Gods, to not fall under the Divine Decay, need worship to maintain their life and powers. In the modern world, since most usually their religions are not celebrated anymore, they need to adapt and get their worship through another mean.

You have two types of worship. The indirect worship - also known as fame. A god can feed of fame. If their stories and legends are still actively told, if their name is famous or part of popular culture, if they appear in works of fiction such as comic books or novels, if they are still studied today in school, they can use it as a way to maintain themselves. Note however that surviving on indirect worship alone is not enough, and many gods ended up fading away due to lacking the other and more important worship.

The direct worship - also known as ritual. Gods feed of worship in the primal sense of the term. Rituals, sacrifices and prayers. People do not realize it, but there are many ways to practice the rituals of old. Animal sacrifices can still be carried through slaughterhouses. The sacred practice of mummification is not so different from the work of a modern undertaker. Prostitution used to be sacred, and the taking of drugs was a mystical experience. And concerts today are no different from ancient rituals - gathering of an enthralled audience in front of a sacred performer, with music, songs and carefully prepared gestures. There are many ways to keep one’s worship alive: if the figure you chose is not famous enough to survive merely out of indirect worship, make sure they have an activity that procures them enough direct worship to survive. 

[norman-keith-white-blog]

Norman Keith White Joins Hands with Schools in Underserved Communities to Promote and Support Restorative Justice Program

Norman Keith White is an experienced business attorney, who can also assist you with matters related to criminal law, intellectual property, civil law or entertainment. While working as an experienced attorney for years, he has helped tens of thousands of people all over the world. The reason why the majority of people all over the world prefer working with him for all their legal needs is because is he’s friendly and listens to people carefully and thoroughly.

Media Interactions

Norman Keith White has made many appearances on world’s most reputed news outlests and TV channels with the following headlines: ’’Keith White, Honored By The Barclay’s Center For Black History Month’’, ‘’Keith White With Co-Counsel, Kenneth J. Montgomery’’, ‘’ Keith White, Defending The Privacy Rights Of His Client Suing Sanford Rubenstein’’, ’Brooklyn Man Wrongly Arrested For Beating Pregnant Woman, Killing Her Unborn Child Files Suit Claiming Sloppy Police Work’’, ‘’Keith White, Honored By The Barclay’s Center For Black History Month,’’ and more.

Norman Keith White Efforts for the Downtrodden Part of the Society

Norman Keith White has a lot to say about his struggles for the downtrodden part of the society. He has worked for many established firms and organizations such as HPD, HUD, and NYCHA to provide poor people with affordable housing. He has also been a board member of a nonprofit organization ‘’Girls Education Mentoring Services.’’  It provides nonstop, comprehensive services to cater to the needs of sexually exploited girls and women all over the United States.

Apart from working and raising voice for Girls Education Mentoring Services (GEMS), Norman Keith White has also offered his services for Kings Against Violence Initiative (KAVI), which is a nonprofit company founded by Dr. Rob Gore who is largely recognized for raising voice for violence reduction and providing services to a down-trodden segment of the society in New York. Norman Keith White is also very active in supporting a nonprofit organization BKLYN COMBINE, which aims to work with schools located in poor communities throughout the world to offer life skills, restorative justice programming, coding, and mentoring. Lately, Keith White has started a new journey to improve his knowledge and ability to downtrodden people and underserved communities of the society.

Norman Keith White Business Attorney Biography

Norman Keith White was born to an underserved and underprivileged community and raised in the Brownsville area of Brooklyn, NY. He always works and supports Human Equality. This is the reason why we see him raising voice for human rights. Though practicing law is his main expertise, he has worked in several other fields as well. He kicked off his professional career as a teacher at Boys and Girls HS when he was learning law in law school. Subsequently, he joined the ’Kings County District Attorney Office’’ as a prosecuting attorney. After he left the DA office, he started operating as a private law attorney.

Other Interests of Norman Keith White

Norman Keith White loves researching, exploring, and studying new ways to take the living standards of the underserved people to the next level. He works continuously to put an end to poverty in the society. He strongly believes that drug addiction should not be considered as a crime and people with mental issues or challenges should not be punished for their wrongdoings. In addition to practicing law privately, Keith White is specializing in Ph.D. in Organizational Change and Leadership.

With hope, relentless beliefs, and hard work, Keith White firmly believes that he can encourage love, sustainability, and fairness in society. While working as a business law attorney for many years, he has always given importance to his dedication to offering a customer-oriented approach. Keith always believes in delivering client satisfaction, and all-inclusive legal services, whether he’s litigating a criminal matter, forming a business or negotiating a contract.

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[catte-bard]

The Jackal’s Den

(Something I had in my drafts for awhile. Time to get some more Garlemald centric-writing thrown on here.)

She wasn’t so sure about this anymore.

The moment, Bellona set foot into the noisy tavern, she wanted to immediately turn back. It was an overwhelming sight to behold. 

Dimly lit, it was surprisingly clustered and busy during the afternoon. Patrons sat at tables or leaned against the walls. Smoking their pipes or sloshing their drinks around as they gesticulated and conversed. Staff hurried around, balancing serving trays top with food and drink.

So busy was it that hardly anyone paid the young half-garlean any attention as she entered the bar. Though someone—unseen from where she was—did snap at her to shut the door so as not to let a draft in.

Closing the door behind her, Bellona scurried in with her head down. 

Was this the right place?

The old man she had spoken to had said this was the place she needed to come if she were looking for a way out of Ilsabard under imperial noses. 

“Ask for the Jackal.” He had told her. “He’ll help you out for the right price.”

Looking around the packed tavern, Bellona wasn’t sure who she should ask. Everyone looked far too drunk to be of any assistance to her. 

Perhaps one of the employees?

“Ex-excuse me.” She hesitantly spoke up to a serving girl walking by.

“Aye, aye. One moment.” She dismissively replied as she rushed by. Seeming too preoccupied with something else.

 Bellona flattened her ears in discouragement. Maybe she should just leave? 

Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel her stomach twisting itself into knots over and over again. This was a bad idea. This was a terrible idea. What the hells was she thinking? She should just leave now, return home with her head down, and apologize for making her family worry.

No...no. You have to do this. You’ve made this far.

She gave the room another scan, peering over the sea of people. How exactly would she find this Jackal fellow? 

Mentally, she kicked herself for not bothering to ask the old man for a description.

Something caught her eye at the back of the room. Something that seemed rather out of place in this smelly old bar. 

Two men—easy to miss in the dim room as the shadows nearly obscured them—stood apart from the rest of the patrons. Tucked into a dark corner of the bar with an alertness of someone guarding something. 

If I were an infamous smuggler...She let the thought trail off as she slowly made her way to the two guards. 

She was only half way across the room when she realized the two men were also watching her. Their gazes cold and sharp. It made Bellona feel oddly self-conscious as she approached. 

“Bar’s that way, little girl.” One of them grunted when Bellona stood before them. 

“I…” Bellona began, nerves making her tongue heavy. She felt so small before these intimidating men. 

Several ilms taller than her, they carried swords at the hips for dealing with anyone they deemed unruly. She eyed their weapons warily, reassuring herself that they’d have no reason to turn them on her. Surely, they could find nothing threatening about the fidgeting, nervous  Miqo’te before them?

Their impatient glares made her feel even more meek. Just spit it out. “I’m looking for a man called Jackal.” She told them. “I was told I could find him here?”

The two guards traded a look before looking back down at her. “What’s your business with the Jackal?” One of them demanded. 

“I...I hear he helps people.” Was all the reply she could muster. 

“And you’ve come here alone?” The other guard asked, searching the crowd of patrons.

“Yes.” Bellona nodded.

The two look at each again. A silent exchange.

“Alright.” The first tells her. He reaches over and grabs her by the shoulder, pushing her past him towards a door behind them.Opening the door, he ushers her  through, he and his companion following close behind. “Mind your manners. And don’t even think about causing any trouble here. You’ll regret it.” She heard the guard threaten behind her.

She was herded along down a short hall that opened into what appeared to be a parlor. 

“A guest? It’s been awhile since we’ve had one! Come in!” Greeted someone.

And Bellona was encouraged forward. 

The first thing she saw was a man lounged on a couch. A man perhaps in his forties.  He was grizzled, scruffy bearded, and dashes of grey streaked his brown hair. His ears slightly curved into points. Half-elezen. His right ear was missing a tip. Probably an injury sustained in a fight.

Pale green eyes lit up upon her entrance and he sat up. “Well…who do we have here?” the Jackal grinned. “Come closer, love. Despite my name, I don’t bite…unless it’s out of defense.”

Bellona wrinkled her nose up. He smelled strongly of tobacco and lavender. The latter scent seeming to be used to mask the former. Creating a sickeningly sweet odor that wasn’t pleasant in the least.

She slowly drew closer, noting that two more guards stood behind him. Unmoving with their hands resting on the pommels of their swords. Eerie that they were still as statues, but their eyes followed her every move…

Women lounged around him. Curled close and with their arms draped over him. Whispering amongst each other, smirking and giggling at her. And almost immediately, Bellona found that she didn’t like them.

“Who is this little cutie?” One of them asked with amusement. “A bit young to be wandering into an establishment like this, aren’t ya?”

“Gods, look at those cheeks. I doubt the little thing is more than a day over fourteen.” Another giggled. 

The other women  tittered and gushed at her as well like she was a little child. Annoyance prickled within Bellona’s chest at their words. And any anxiety she had previously was burned away by disgruntlement. 

“Now, now, my friends.” The Jackal lightly scolded his company. “Let’s be nice to our young guest. Tell me, dear. What brings you to my lovely abode?” He does a sweeping gesture with his arms.

Lovely wasn’t quite the word she’d use for this little room they were in. Cramped and junky was more like it. Kegs and crates—no doubt filled with less than legal items—were crowded into the corners. Rare furs were sitting in piles on the floor. Along with other contraband...

Tucked into the corner of the room appeared to be a small bar. Several bottles and cups sat atop it. Some of them were empty and other still contained liquid within them. None of it helped with the smell in the room.

Bellona had to resist the urge to wrinkle her nose in distaste.

“Are you the smuggler people talk about?” She bluntly asked the man. “The one they call Jackal? I hear you help get people out of imperial territory.”

And he perks up. He muttering something softly to his company before waving them away. Pouting, the women then stood and began making their way out of the room. One of them ruffling Bellona’s hair as she walked by. 

“Very well, let’s talk business.” The smuggler said once they had gone. He stood up and wandered over to the bar, gesturing for Bellona to follow. And offered her one of the stools next to him. “Come on then, don’t be shy. I said I don’t bite.”

Glancing back at the guards behind her, Bellona made her way over to the bar as well. Carefully stepping so as not to trip over any of the junk he had laying about. “So you can help me?” She asked as she sat down.

“Aye.” The man told her as he took up one of the unopened bottles. He looks at her and squints. An uncomfortable look that made Bellona shift awkwardly on the stool. It was as if he were searching for something. “You old enough to drink, lass? Know what? Never mind. Not like I’d actually care.” He chuckled and pulled up two glasses.

After pouring the drink in both, he offer one to Bellona. To which she declined with a shake of her head. The smuggler shrugged and downed one of them, giving a satisfied sigh. “So you want out of the Empire, girly? What for?” He asked. “A bit too scrawny to be a conscript. Perhaps one of the emperor’s special bedmates trying to get away?” 

“Does it matter? I just want to get out of here. So can you help me with that or not?” She replied. 

The Jackal shrugs and leans against the bar. “I like to know what I’m getting into before I set up a contract with anyone. Need to make sure we don’t have the Royal Guard on our arses because you’ve murdered the emperor’s cousin’s dog or whatever.” He takes up the other glass and sips from it. 

“No! No, it’s nothing like that.” Bellona tells him. “I just...I’m not happy here and I want to get away.”

“So there’s no one after you?” He asked, scrutinizing her hard. “No one to give me any trouble when they come looking for you?”

Bellona didn’t answer at first. She thought of her parents. No doubt by they’ve discovered her disappearance. And no doubt they’d be looking for her. But she had thought she’d be long gone before anyone could track her down.

“No.” She decided. 

“No?” Jackal arched his brow. “Come now, girly. Let’s not start this lovely business relationship off with lies.” 

And Bellona stiffened at that.

“Everyone has someone looking for them when they come to me. No one’s going to ignore their relative or acquaintance up and disappearing.” He told her and takes up the second glass. “You’ve no need to lie to this ol’ jackal.”

“Alright.” She shakes her head. “Maybe I might have a few people looking for me. I just don’t know how far they intend on taking the search.”

The honest truth. It had only been a few days since she’d left. They’d probably still be searching around the capital for her before looking in the provinces. She doubted they’d pick up her trail any time soon. But still, she’d like to get moving before they could.  

The Jackal nodded and looked down at his glass, seeming deep in thought. “I could get you out. I could take you wherever your wanted to go. But my services come with a price, little girl. And I’m curious to know if you can actually afford it.”

Well, she wasn’t expecting this to be easy. But she supposed if she were to be serious about getting out of Ilsabard...

“Name your price.” Bellona sighed. 

“Show me what you have first.” Jackal hummed.

The half-garlean frowned at him. “That’s not how this works.” 

“Oh?” The smuggler raised a brow at her. “Who are you to tell me how things work under my own roof? Sorry, lovely, it may not be how things work where you’re from but it certainly is how it works here. Show me proof of guaranteed payment first and then we’ll talk more.”

This is a terrible idea.

A small voice of regret at the back of her head. 

This man was a smuggler—a wanted criminal. Getting mixed up with him wasn’t a smart idea. And yet here she was with it being too late to turn back now. She had already taken a dive into this bog…

“Fine…” She yields and pulls her coin purse out of her bag. 

Before she could even open it, Jackal snatched it from her hands. He ignored her indignant cry as he weighed the bag in his hand. He spilled the contents onto the counter and let out a low whistle at the glittering coins. 

“My, my. We’ve got a wealthy little thing with us today.” He chuckled. 

“Or maybe I stole it all.” Bellona said, defensively laying her ears flat.

He looked up at her briefly. “Nay, you’ve not the look of a thief. Too soft and innocent looking.” Scooping the coins back into the bag he then tucked it away in his jacket. “I don’t know any commoner who would walk around with this much money on them. Makes me wonder why someone like you wants out of the Empire…”

“That’s none of your business.” Bellona snipped through gritted teeth. “And you can’t just take all my money like that!”

“I can and I just did, sweetheart. It’ll be more than enough to get you through the border.” He raised a finger to waggle at her. “You silly girl. Do you honestly think deserting the Garlean Empire will be an easy feat? It’ll be a long and hard journey and not to mention very dangerous. So the appropriate compensation for it is needed. You do want out, don’t you?”

Bellona opened her mouth, ready to argue. He had no right to do this to her! It wasn’t fair! It was—it was…

...Down right criminal.

But of course it was. It’s what he was. It was foolish of her to think he’d be fair. 

So she bit her tongue, swallowing her words. As long as he got her out of Ilsabard, she supposed it was worth it. She’d make a living somewhere else and gain the money back. 

“Alright, then.” Jackal said once he saw the protest in her quelled. “Now that payment has been taken care of. Let’s talk about the plan.”

He pulls something out of his coat. A piece of paper which he unfolds to reveal a map of Hydaelyn. 

Jackal looks up at her. “You do have a plan, don’t you? You do know where you want me to take you, right? Can’t go anywhere unless I know the destination.”

“Uh…” Bellona stared down at the map. Truth be told...she didn’t have much of a plan. She had planned to leave Garlemald behind, but she never gave much thought to where she’d go.

Jackal heaved a heavy sigh. “You’ve no clue what you’re doing, do you?” He shook his head and poured himself another drink. Muttering something about “dumb, rebellious, kids” and “waste of time”. 

“I do!” Bellona told him, feeling her face grow hot. She looked down at the map spread out before them. “I...I’ve thought about maybe going to Eorzea or something...but.”

“I could get you to Eorzea.” Jackal said, scratching his chin while looking down at the map. “That’s mighty far south. You sure that’s where you want to go?”

She hesitate for a moment. Was she sure? There’d be no going back once they had arrived. 

Before Jackal could express impatience, she answers. “Yes.” She tells him. “That’s where I want to go.”

The man nods. “Alrighty, girly. Looks like we have a contract set up.” He holds his hand out for her to shake it. “I get you all the way to Eorzea. Deal, no take backs?”

Bellona gingerly takes his hand and gives it a shake. “Deal.”

And before she could pull away from him, the smuggler suddenly tightens his grip on her hand. A fierce, vise-like grip that almost hurt. She looked up at him half in annoyance and half in bewilderment.

Let me go. She was about to tell him. However, the severe look his eyes silenced her.

“This isn’t going to be an easy journey, little girl. What we’re doing could get us in a lot of trouble if we get caught.” He told her. “And I’m not keen on getting caught anytime soon. I’ve been doing this for too long. So when we’re out there, I need you to do exactly as I tell you.

“If you don’t listen to me, I will leave you. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the woods or in the middle of a chase with imperial soldiers. If you don’t do as your told, I won’t hesitate to leave you for dead, girl.” His voice had taken on a chill. “I’ve been doing this for years. I know what I’m doing. Not listening to me will only get one or both of us into to trouble. So you better do as I say when I say. You understand?”

His grip tightened when she didn’t answer immediately. Sharp fingers cruelly dug into skin. 

“I understand!” Bellona grimaced.

“Good.” Only then did he let her go. “There’s an inn down the road. Tell the old lass there you’re going hunting for jackals and she’ll give you a room for free. Be up by dawn. I’m not your mother, so don’t expect me to come wake you. I’ll wait around for you for awhile but you take too long and this whole thing’s off. Got it?”  

Bellona had withdrawn her hand and was protectively cradling it against her chest. She could feel it throbbing and it would no doubt bruise later. She shot the smuggler a hateful look, which didn’t seem to phase him at all. He merely looked at her expectantly. 

“Yeah...I got it.” She mutters.

“Good.” He stands and claps her on the shoulder. “I’ll see you bright and early in the morning then. My boys there will show you out.” He says, nodding to the guards at the doorway. 

Still nursing her bruised hand, Bellona was escorted back out into the tavern. Her head swimming from what she had just done.

[wolint]

GODLY INFLUENCER 2

GODLY INFLUENCER TWO

1 Peter 2:12

 

Still on the issue of influencers! Who can be an influencer? Who is an influencer? How do we influence others and why? Regardless of titles, genuine believers influence others. Influence could be either positive or negative and every influence has impact, just look at Eve in Genesis 3:1-6.

We are never meant to listen to the voice of a man but God’s voice, especially to men who are not listening to God’s voice. The Bible offers great insights into the nature and impact of influence, encouraging us to use our godly influence wisely and responsibly as Proverbs 27:17 says.

Unfortunately, there are more social and economic influencers than spiritual or godly influencers in our society today. God created us and gave us power, authority, and dominion over all things and when we come to Christ, our authority is even more profound because of the power in the name of Jesus.

Naturally, there aren’t any written manuals for how to live life but according to 2 Timothy 3:16, everything we need for life is in God’s word, the Bible, and Paul stressed the authority of all Scripture: authority in all things. The bible should, therefore, influence us in every way, in finance, business, marriage, child-rearing, health, and all others. The divine origin of the Scripture is the reason for its power and usefulness in training.

We are not to proclaim ourselves, and our abilities but Christ according to 2 Corinthians 4:5. The opportunity, privilege, and ability to positively influence people is only in Christ.

The enemy is even now using peoples’ skills, talents, and ability to negatively and it would seem successfully influencing the world, creating a false community that impacts the rest of the world with mostly demonic, evil, wicked, and unrighteous influences. But 2 Corinthians 4:3-4 says that “even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing”. In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel and the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. People are blind to the truth of the gospel but are very accepting of the lies of the enemy but still want to hold God responsible and accountable for the state of the society.

So many people have been well and profoundly influenced by the woke culture, that many of the godly principles that governed the world years ago, that even unbelievers adhered to are now no longer necessary according to the influencers.

We have influencers telling women they have a right to their bodies and therefore can abort babies as they please, but the scriptures say God sees each embryo as a person in Psalm 139:16. Even believers are influenced to go with the lie that it is better to terminate a pregnancy than to allow the child to suffer.

Influence comes in all forms, we must crave to see the impact of the gospel, even as we offer a godly and positive influence on people we meet.

Sometimes, people have bad ideas and intentions but will not act on them until an influential voice gives them false courage to conduct their actions, such as the case in 2 Samuel 13 of the friendship between Absalom’s half-brother, Amnon and Jonadab. This friendship and influence led to the rape of Amnon’s sister, Tamar. One sentence from an ungodly and negative influence created a mountain of issues that affected generations, causing murder, division, and war. We must always remember that 1 Corinthians 15:33 strongly admonishes us that, “Bad company corrupts good character.” Jonadab was bad company.

Galatians 5:9 say that a little leaven leavens the whole lump. It only takes one “bad company” influence to cause us to lose our spiritual focus. Let us be aware of the influence of those we call our friends and choose them carefully. Be a godly influencer!

PRAYER: Father, may I always humbly submit to the leading of the Holy Spirit and never give place to the influence of man in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT PRAYER MIN.

[sarcasticcynic]

First, some general background:

“I was disappointed that the State Department prevented me, at the last minute, from testifying earlier on October 8, 2019.”

“I am a lifelong Republican.”

“I worked with Ambassador [Marie] Yovanovich personally during my first official visit to Ukraine in February 2019, and I found her to be an excellent diplomat with a deep command of Ukrainian internal dynamics, the U.S.-Ukraine relationship, and associated regional issues. She was a delight to work with during our visit to Odessa, Ukraine. I was never a part of any campaign to disparage or dislodge her, and I regretted her departure.”

“In my time working with Ambassador [William] Taylor, I have found him to be an insightful, strategic, and effective representative of U.S. interests. He cares deeply about the future of Ukraine and is a dedicated public servant.”

“The Ukraine Mission worked hand in hand with Special Envoy Kurt Volker, another experienced diplomat with a special remit to address the ongoing conflict in Eastern Ukraine and Crimea. Mr. Volker is an exemplary professional.”

The highlights:

“On May 23, 2019, three days after the [Ukraine President Volodymyr] Zelensky inauguration, we in the U.S. delegation [Sondland, Volker, and Energy Secretary Rick Perry] debriefed President Trump and key aides at the White House. ... We asked the White House to arrange a working phone call from President Trump and a working Oval Office visit. However, President Trump was skeptical that Ukraine was serious about reforms and anti-corruption, and he directed those of us present at the meeting to talk to Mr. [Rudy] Giuliani, his personal attorney, about his concerns. It was apparent to all of us that the key to changing President Trump’s mind was Mr. Giuliani.”

“Secretary Perry, Ambassador Volker, and I were disappointed by our May 23, 2019 White House debriefing. We strongly believed that a call and White House meeting between Presidents Trump and Zelensky was important and that these should be scheduled promptly and without any pre-conditions. We were also disappointed by the President’s direction that we involve Mr. Giuliani. Our view was that the men and women of the State Department, not the President’s personal lawyer, should take responsibility for all aspects of U.S. foreign policy towards Ukraine.”

“I did not understand, until much later, that Mr. Giuliani’s agenda might also have included an effort to prompt the Ukrainians to investigate Vice President [Joe] Biden or his son [Hunter] or to involve the Ukrainian’s directly or indirectly, in the President’s 2020 reelection campaign.”

“On July 25, 2019, President Trump called President Zelensky ... But let me emphasize: I was not on that July 25, 2019 call and I did not see a transcript of that call until September 25, 2019, when the White House publicly released it. None of the brief and general call summaries I received contained any mention of Burisma or former Vice President Biden, nor even suggested that President Trump had made any kind of request of President Zelensky.”

“I understood from President Trump, at the May 23, 2019 White House debriefing, that he wanted the Inaugural Delegation to talk with Mr. Giuliani concerning our efforts to arrange a White House meeting for President Zelensky. Taking direction from the President, as I must, I spoke with Mr. Giuliani for that limited purpose. In these short conversations, Mr. Giuliani emphasized that the President wanted a public statement from President Zelensky committing Ukraine to look into anticorruption issues. Mr. Giuliani specifically mentioned the 2016 election (including the DNC server) and Burisma as two anti-corruption investigatory topics of importance for the President.”

“My understanding was that the President directed Mr. Giuliani’s participation, that Mr. Giuliani was expressing the concerns of the President, and that Mr. Giuliani had already spoken with Secretary Perry and Ambassador Volker. ... Please know that I would not have recommended that Mr. Giuliani or any private citizen be involved in these foreign policy matters. However, given the President’s explicit direction, as well as the importance we attached to arranging a White House meeting between Presidents Trump and Zelensky, we agreed to do as President Trump directed.”

“Let me state clearly: Inviting a foreign government to undertake investigations for the purpose of influencing an upcoming U.S. election would be wrong. Withholding foreign aid in order to pressure a foreign government to take such steps would be wrong. I did not and would not ever participate in such undertakings. In my opinion, security aid to Ukraine was in our vital national interest and should not have been delayed for any reason.”

How’s the view from under that bus, Rudy?

Finally, the only things that Republicans will hear:

“I do not recall that Mr. Giuliani discussed former Vice President Biden or his son Hunter Biden with me. Like many of you, I read the transcript of the Trump-Zelensky call for the first time when it was released publicly by the White House on September 25, 2019.”

“I recall no discussions with any State Department or White House official about Former Vice President Biden or his son, nor do I recall taking part in any effort to encourage an investigation into the Bidens.”

“I called President Trump directly. I asked the President: ‘What do you want from Ukraine?’ The President responded, “Nothing. There is no quid pro quo.‘ The President repeated: ‘no quid pro quo’ multiple times. This was a very short call. And I recall the President was in a bad mood.”

Two thoughts, though:

This doesn’t necessarily demonstrate that there was no quid pro quo; it demonstrates only that Trump’s people didn’t want Sondland (or anyone else) to know about it. Which is entirely consistent with them hiding the transcript of the Zelensky call, never mentioning what Trump actually said to Zelensky, and keeping the whole thing as quiet as possible until the whistleblower came forward.

Regarding Trump repeating “‘no quid pro quo’ multiple times”: How many times in his life do you think Trump had ever used that phrase before, say, September 19, 2019? (Hint: Zero.) It sounds a lot more like Trump was making sure to repeat a phrase that had been carefully drilled into his head as very, very important. Which is, again, wholly consistent with a cover-up of Trump’s actual request to Zelensky for a quid pro quo.

TL;DR: Sondland isn’t testifying that Trump did nothing wrong, or that there was no quid pro quo. Sondland is testifying only that he himself did nothing wrong, because he didn’t know about any quid pro quo.

[polyadvice]

I just got engaged to two partners, who are also lifelong best friends, and we have lots of questions

I have been dear friends and cohabitants with two ladies for a few years now. We are all straight. They have been BFFs since childhood are are basically inseparable. I love them both dearly, and we are of an age where we want to have families soon. After some discussions, I recently formally proposed to both, and they accepted. We now have questions about the best way forward. 1) How public should we be? 2) Should I legally marry one? 3) We WANT to share one big bed, will it get awkward? 4) Both want to have children and would love to share the experience should both try at the same time? 5) Should we remove love making to separate bedroom? 6) We have discussed not doing so, and making love all 3 together, I am worried I won't be up to the task. We want it to be pure and beautiful not some playboy fantasy Good or Bad idea? 7) Should both or neither take my surname? 8) Should all children take a family name?

Most of the answers to these questions are going to be intensely personal, and not something that an internet writer who doesn’t know you three can prescribe for you. I strongly recommend that you three talk deeply and honestly about these questions. For some people, talking in person is a lot harder, so sending emails back and forth to go through these questions might be a great strategy. All I can do is answer your questions with more questions, things I encourage you to consider, and jumping off points for more conversation.

1.) How public should we be? That is going to depend on your lives and the risks involved. Do you live in a conservative area? Do any of you have professional lives that might be threatened by being public with this? Do any of you anticipate conflict with your families, and how will you navigate and support each other through that? What do you mean by ‘public’ - coming out to friends and family, or giving interviews to local news? If you decide to stay “private,” how will you negotiate that? What kind of ‘cover stories’ are you comfortable with? Who is, and isn’t, safe to tell? How will you manage it if some of you want to be more “out” and some of you want to stay more “private?”

2) Should I legally marry one? What does legal marriage mean to you? Are there financial, legal, insurance, citizenship, or other considerations? Does one of you need health insurance or other protections? Do you live in a state where marrying one person and “living as if married” with another puts you at risk of running afoul of bigamy laws? How would you make the choice about who to legally marry? How would you demonstrate commitment to the other person? Do you want to have a wedding ceremony? How will that interact with the legal marriage? Consider talking to a family law attorney about some of these questions as well.

3) We WANT to share one big bed, will it get awkward? I have literally no idea whether a hypothetical situation between three people I’ve never met will get awkward. You three should talk it out. Who sleeps hot, who sleeps cold? Do any of you have sleep issues? Light sleeper, heavy sleeper? If one person feels like masturbating, how do y’all feel about that in a shared bed? Use of phones in bed? Lights or music in the bedroom? Sleep schedules? Restless sleeper? If you decided not to share a big bed, what would the alternatives be? What are your realistic financial abilities to get a living space and bed that accommodates your needs? Consider some trial nights in hotels with king-sized beds.

4) Both want to have children and would love to share the experience should both try at the same time? Pregnancy is a very fickle thing, and if both women are trying at the same time, one may conceive and the other may not, or one may miscarry and the other may not. Would that cause resentment or conflict? Putting pressure on yourself to conceive at the same time as your best friend and metamour can make things a lot more complicated. But, being pregnant at the same time sounds pretty awesome! Consider whether you think it would be easier to raise two kids of roughly the same age - on the one hand, you can ‘get it all over with at once’ in terms of baby stuff; on the other hand, babies are hard! If they conceive 6 months apart, you could have a newborn and a teether at the same time, which sounds really challenging even with three parents. Think carefully about this, talk to friends of yours who have had babies, or a therapist who specializes in conception and family planning (Planned Parenthood may have some resources for you).

5) Should we remove love making to separate bedroom? Do you think that would help things be more healthy and fulfilling, or does it just feel like something you should do? What associations do you have with “the love making bedroom”? What needs would this meet? Do you have the financial resources to get a place with a bedroom that’s just for sex? Would the people who just had sex in there sleep in that bedroom? What would the other person do? How would all of you feel about that? Do you three have certain sexual preferences or interests that would make a separate room especially useful?

6) We have discussed not doing so, and making love all 3 together, I am worried I won't be up to the task. We want it to be pure and beautiful not some playboy fantasy Good or Bad idea? One of the worst things you can do for your sex life is to come to it with some preconceived prescription about what it should look like. I don’t know what, to you three, “pure and beautiful” sex looks like. But that sounds like an idealized fantasy and it’s too vague to give you any guidance. You should define that for yourselves - what does “pure and beautiful” really mean? What kinds of feelings do you want to have? What kinds of language and sex acts do you prefer? Do you want to avoid? What is it about the “playboy fantasy” that you are worried about?

7) Should both or neither take my surname? Do they want to? Do you want that? What would that symbolize to the three of you? How would the three of you feel about developing a new surname together? How would that interact with your desires to stay private or go public? Do any of you have personal or professional situations that would make a name change an especially good or bad idea?

8) Should all children take a family name? That’s something to consider a bit later, once pregnancies are happening. Some people think it’s important for all kids in a family to have the same name; other people don’t. You should talk to a family lawyer about custody and guardianship with three parents; having a shared name might help with logistical things and demonstrate that you are all one family with equal parenthood. You should also consider talking to a family therapist who specializes in blended or unique families about how to cultivate a strong sense of identity and security for the children.

[thetourguidebarbie]

So I’m a huge fan of podcasts and I listen to most of the Crooked Media shows when I want to bask in the glow of political-opinion validation, but Keep It this week made me...so angry.

I don’t talk much about my eating disorder on here, mostly because it’s a very difficult issue to explain and easy to misunderstand if you don’t have that experience. I talk about my assault and depression sometimes, but for some reason my anorexia/bulimia feels much more intimate. I’ve always had an incredibly complicated relationship with food and my body. Explaining and justifying what I eat/drink to people who don’t understand how eating disorders work is incredibly painful for me, and I spent a great deal of my adolescence and most of my adulthood until very recently doing that.

I don’t blame them for not understanding, because there are a lot of misconceptions about eating disorders that are not well-addressed. However, when Ira said to “let Cardi get her check” for advertising the detox teas I was furious. Detox teas are dangerous. Most of them are basically just fancy laxatives, and using them compulsively or carefully planning to use them after a meal qualifies as purging behavior. Bulimia is associated strongly with puking, but purging takes many forms. I don’t think Cardi or other celebrities should be encouraged to “get a check” or be defended for doing so when they are getting that check for endorsing bulimia. It’s incredibly irresponsible and harmful to anyone who looks up to them. They are taking advantage of young girls and encouraging them to spend their money on making themselves sick.

I’m also very disappointed with how the hosts spoke about Jameela’s past eating disorders with so little sympathy and an excessive amount of contempt. Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but that doesn’t make her struggles any less valid, nor does it mean she should have to shut up about her experience. Thin privilege does exist, as does the halo effect, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t be listened to or that she’s a hypocrite. Instead of recognizing that, they clearly came down on the side of defending people who are trying to push young women into permanently damaging their metabolisms and developing compulsive and dangerous behaviors.

Like, I love their podcast (their interviews are excellent!!!) and everyone’s allowed to have an opinion, but I find theirs harmful and a bit offensive.

Rant done for the day.

[stfumras]

The rape case against Rhiannon Brooker’s ex-partner had fallen apart.

Rhiannon had accused him of assaulting her numerous times over a two-year period, but detectives had found discrepancies in her story shortly after they arrested him, so prosecutors dropped the charges.

Elsewhere around the world, that would have likely been the end of it. Not in Britain.

Instead, one afternoon in January 2012, police in Bristol, a city in southwest England, called the 28-year-old back to the station for another interview. Rhiannon thought the purpose of the meeting was to bolster the case against her ex. Police were indeed trying to make a case – against her.

What Rhiannon did not know as she answered the detectives’ questions was that she was now suspected of perverting the course of justice by fabricating her allegations. The crime carries a maximum sentence of life in prison.

British authorities are supposed to exercise extreme caution when deciding whether to prosecute someone for lying about rape, especially if the person is vulnerable or if it’s unclear whether the accusation was made maliciously.

Rhiannon ticked many of those boxes. She told police that she had an abusive childhood. Police later said in court that Rhiannon had been extremely reluctant to move forward with the case against her ex in the first place. In fact, detectives blindsided Rhiannon when they arrested him without her knowledge or consent.

As investigators considered charging Rhiannon, one voiced a concern that had nothing to do with the evidence against her, documents seen by BuzzFeed News show. There was a “reputational risk” to the police if her ex “made a complaint or went to the media”.

When the recording light went on in the interview room, detectives told Rhiannon that prosecutors just wanted to “clarify some material”. They told her it was all completely standard – hopefully, they said, she wouldn’t have to come back again.

Rhiannon told BuzzFeed News that the questions they asked were, by now, familiar:

Why didn’t she report her ex-partner earlier?

“I didn’t want him to be arrested,” Rhiannon told them.

Was she sure she had stated the dates and times of each allegation correctly?

No, Rhiannon told them, they were just “guesstimates”.

“It’s not like I sat there looking at my watch timing everything,” Rhiannon recalled saying.

Rhiannon left the police station completely unaware the authorities were hoping to arrest her as soon as possible. By 2014, Rhiannon was on trial. She pleaded not guilty to perverting the course of justice but was convicted and sentenced to three and a half years in prison, separating her from her 9-month-old baby. The judge declared that she had lied in a “completely wicked” way.

Rhiannon is now a convicted criminal, virtually unemployable and forever tarred as a liar.

“They listened, they noted, they took it all down, then they just cast it aside and turned it against me,” she said.

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Rhiannon Brooker during her graduation.

A BuzzFeed News investigation has found that UK authorities are exceptionally aggressive in pursuing women for lying about rape, prosecuting hundreds over the past decade.

The Crown Prosecution Service, the state prosecutor for England and Wales, has even written rulesfor whom to target and when – something other Western countries don't do, experts say.

The policy is meant to restrain law enforcement from going after people who did not make clear and malicious accusations, those who are young or mentally ill, or those who have experienced past abuse.

But BuzzFeed News today exposes how prosecutors routinely fail to follow these rules as they send vulnerable women to prison. Our investigation can reveal:

At least 200 women in the UK have been prosecuted for lying about being raped in the past decade, according to a BuzzFeed News analysis of press reports. Most of these women were sent to prison, dozens of them with sentences of two or more years.

Prosecutors went after teenagers, and women who reportedly had mental health issues, had experienced past physical and sexual assault, or were grappling with drug and alcohol addiction.

Women were prosecuted even when they reportedly went to police only under pressure, quickly recanted, or never named their attacker at all.

The CPS has prosecuted women who police were not sure had lied. In one instance detectives declined to charge the woman for making a false complaint. Prosecutors went ahead anyway.

Yvette Cooper, Labour MP and chair of the influential home affairs select committee, described BuzzFeed News’ investigation as “very troubling” and called on the CPS to make sure the guidance is followed so that “victims are not deterred from coming forward” and “vulnerable women are not inappropriately prosecuted”.

Britain’s approach stands in stark contrast to that of the US, Australia, Canada, and other European countries. Women in these countries do not typically face prosecution – let alone prison – for lying about rape, state prosecutors and experts said, because it’s not considered to be in the public interest. Norway’s public prosecutions authority, for example, said its priority is encouraging more victims to come forward and warned that “a low threshold for opening a false accusation case could counteract this goal”.

A spokesperson for the CPS told BuzzFeed News that it prosecutes “very few cases” of false rape complaints and this should not dissuade rape victims “from coming forward to report their assault”. Prosecutors treat these cases “extremely carefully” and consider the mental health and other vulnerabilities of the suspect before deciding whether to move forward.

False rape complaints can ruin lives. Even suspects who are quickly exonerated can face public scrutiny and lose their jobs and reputations. But such cases are rare: A 2012 Ministry of Justice study estimated that only 3% of rape reports were “perceived to be malicious”. In contrast, most victims don’t report a rape to the police and when they do, a successful prosecution is unlikely. Only one reported rape in 14 results in a conviction.

Rape cases are, in general, notoriously complex: They rarely involve third-party witnesses, and research shows trauma victims often have fragmented and incomplete memories. CPS guidance on prosecuting false rape allegations warns prosecutors not to “resort to using myths and stereotypes once associated with victims of rape”, such as assuming they always have straightforward, consistent memories of events. It also makes clear that just because there is not enough evidence to bring charges, doesn’t mean there is proof the accuser is lying.

Even if the authorities strongly suspect an allegation is false, there are many reasons not to charge the accuser with a crime. The prosecutors in the 2006 Duke University lacrosse gang rape case – one of the most infamous false accusations in US history – seemed to understand this. They took no action against the accuser because they said she was not of sound mind and might have believed “the many different stories that she has been telling”.

The UK, however, seems to have a “unique appetite” for prosecuting false allegations, said Lisa Avalos, an American law professor who studies false rape reports. She has not found another Western country that “encourages” charges against suspected false rape reporters as a matter of policy, nor has she been able to find a case in which an American accused of falsely reporting rape has faced a jury trial.

“It is not in the public interest to aggressively prosecute disbelieved rape complainants,” Avalos said. “Rape victims commonly express the concern that police do not believe them and do not take them seriously, and these types of prosecutions only serve to reinforce victims’ fear of being treated poorly if they come forward.”

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British tabloids cover false rape convictions with relish, running dozens of stories a year about “attention-seeking” women who “cry rape”. It’s not uncommon for sentencing judges to call these women “wicked”; one male judge went as far as to say a convict had “betrayed the sisterhood”.

At least twice in recent years, UK law enforcement have wrongfully arrested rape victims for lying. One woman, known as “Sarah”, was jailed after retracting a true rape allegation. The case drew public outrage and a rebuke from a High Court judge.

In response, the CPS apologised and published new guidance in an effort to curb overzealous prosecutions, along with a review documenting 132 charges and 38 prosecutions during the preceding 17 months. It found that many of those accused of making false allegations were “young, often vulnerable people”. In nearly 40% of the cases studied, police received the initial rape complaint from someone other than the suspect – who then watched as the case “spiralled out of control and he or she felt unable to stop the investigation”.

The guidance instructs authorities that before going forward they must have enough evidence to prove that an allegation is false. But Avalos says her research shows there are not enough safeguards in place to protect women from wrongful prosecution.

“How can women feel safe reporting rape to police under these circumstances?” she said.

The CPS told BuzzFeed News it does not keep consistent data on how often it prosecutes women for lying about rape, although a spokesperson said that many of the 200 cases uncovered in BuzzFeed News’ analysis “appear to feature” prosecutions before the legal guidance was published. However, the press clippings show that the CPS has continued to go after reportedly vulnerable women. In May 2018, judges rejected an appeal by a woman whose lawyers argued her five-year jail term was “excessive” and didn’t account for her “significant mental health difficulties”. The same month, another woman with mental health problems was sentenced to four years in prison on appeal – her original sentence of community service and rehab was deemed “too lenient”.

The guidance was meant to ensure that prosecutions of women who falsely report rape “are the exception, not the rule”, especially if those women are “unwell”, said David Malone, the prominent human rights and criminal barrister who represented Sarah’s case.

BuzzFeed News’ findings, “if correct, make it apparent that the guidance has failed,” Malone said. “It’s not just concerning, but shocking,” he said. “Serious questions have to be asked of the CPS.”

The new guidance was published before prosecutors took Rhiannon to court in 2014. The same year, the CPS charged Eleanor de Freitas, a 23-year-old who had bipolar disorder. Psychiatric reports warned that the case could drive her to harm herself. Her own report to the police acknowledged she was unsure whether she consented to sex. And the detectives who worked on her case did not support the prosecution against her.

A CPS review found that actions taken in Eleanor’s case “were correct, and in accordance with our policies and guidance”, a spokesperson said. The decision to charge Rhiannon was likewise “made in accordance with the Code for Crown Prosecutors and was based on the strength of the evidence presented”.

The men in Eleanor and Rhiannon’s cases said the false claims destroyed their lives – and that the women deserved to be prosecuted. Alexander Economou told BuzzFeed News that Eleanor lied about him “as an act of revenge, because I rejected her”. Paul Fensome, Rhiannon’s ex-partner, told BuzzFeed News that it is Rhiannon’s own fault she landed in prison. “It started with a white lie, and it just snowballed,” he said. “She could have stopped it at any time, but she let it roll, and let it roll, and let it roll until it was too late.”

A spokesperson for the Avon and Somerset police pointed to “a number of factors in this case, including the fact the allegations resulted in an innocent man being wrongly detained and remanded in custody”. It would be a “travesty” if this case “were to undermine the confidence and experiences of victims in any way”, the spokesperson said.

But CPS guidance outlines many reasons why prosecutors could have chosen not to prosecute Eleanor and Rhiannon. They both fit the description of “vulnerable”. They were upfront with detectives about flaws in their stories. Some police officers did not seem convinced their cases would make for straightforward prosecutions. But alongside the consideration of “reputational risks” in Rhiannon’s case, and after a private case brought by a wealthy financier in Eleanor’s, the authorities went after them anyway – and shattered both of their lives.

RHIANNON

Something was clearly wrong with Rhiannon. She had shown up to law classes with black eyes, deep purple bruising across the top of her forehead, aching ribs, and a swollen finger in a splint. Persuading her to talk about it was like “getting blood from a stone”, a close friend would later say; Rhiannon would just make up excuses.

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Avon and Somerset Police handout photo of Rhiannon Brooker.

But slowly, Rhiannon started telling people – friends, a university lecturer, and a domestic violence counsellor – that her partner sometimes beat her up and, increasingly, forced her to have sex.

From January to May 2011, they pressed Rhiannon to go to hospital, seek legal advice, and start counselling. But much to their frustration and concern, Rhiannon still wouldn’t report Paul, a railway signal operator who was 43 years old to her 24 when they met.

In April 2011 she emailed her lecturer a document with a list of times she claimed Paul had abused her. “It is literally thrown together and makes no sense in places,” Rhiannon wrote to the lecturer, adding that she’d elaborate when she could “find the courage to put down the more difficult things that I am still struggling with the details of”.

Finally, in late May, Rhiannon spoke with police. Detectives noted her reluctance; the first officer she met with spent four hours persuading Rhiannon to give him Paul’s name. Among her many concerns, he noted, was “fear of losing control of the situation, i.e. police taking over and going ahead with prosecution without her”.

Over the next two months, detectives spent hours with Rhiannon in the hopes she would give a formal statement accusing Paul of sexual assault. Still, she held back. Prosecutors would later argue in court that Rhiannon was reluctant because she knew her accusations were fake – and that if police got involved, they’d out her as a liar.

Although Rhiannon hadn’t given a formal statement, police did exactly what she feared. On 1 August, they arrested Paul without her consent, based on their interviews with Rhiannon’s friends, and photographs and medical reports about injuries she’d claimed to have suffered at her partner’s hands.

When detectives told Rhiannon that unless she gave them concrete evidence, they’d have to let Paul go, she handed over the document she had sent her lecturer, and she sat for hours of videotaped interviews, answering officers’ questions about when and where each alleged incident had occurred. She wasn’t great at recalling dates and other details from the past two years, she told police, because she never thought she would actually move forward with a case. Detectives saw her as a victim and tried to reassure her.

“I wouldn’t use the term ‘have sex with you’,” one detective said when Rhiannon described an unwanted encounter. “I’d say it’s rape.”

At the end of the interviews, detectives praised Rhiannon’s cooperation and promised she would always have their support.

“We ain’t gonna go anywhere,” one told her.

ELEANOR

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Eleanor as a baby with her mother and father, David de Freitas.

Dr Christopher Bench was away for Christmas in 2012 when his psychiatry practice received an urgent phone call that “something traumatic” had just happened.

The call came from Eleanor, a patient who traced her mental illness back to her first year in university. Once a sociable straight-A student, she had withdrawn from both class and social activities, even turning off her phone for three months. She lost weight, refused to leave her bed, and contemplated suicide.

She was diagnosed with depression and, later, bipolar disorder, and she began seeing Bench, who prescribed antidepressants. After two years of ups and downs, in the spring of 2012 Eleanor had a full breakdown and began “harbouring grandiose delusional beliefs”, Bench wrote in a psychiatric report seen by BuzzFeed News. She went on manic shopping sprees she couldn’t afford, accused her parents of trying to poison her, and claimed her landlord had sexually assaulted her. She was sectioned and admitted to a psychiatric hospital for a month while doctors adjusted her medication.

For a while after she was released, she seemed “very much improved”, Bench wrote. She took up Pilates and dance, and started socialising again.

But at the appointment following her emergency call, Eleanor appeared “tense and quite guarded with a degree of grandiosity”, Bench later wrote. She “acknowledged she was not well”. Eventually, Eleanor told Bench that she had been “sexually assaulted by someone she knew”. A few days later, she went to the police and started talking.

Eleanor was at a party a few months earlier where some of Chelsea’s young and wealthy had gathered to celebrate a birthday. Wearing an elegant, long-sleeved dress with her honey-blonde hair pulled back to show shimmering gold earrings, the 22-year-old had hit it off with a man named Alexander – a tanned, dark-haired 33-year-old financier and son of a shipping tycoon with whom she shared some mutual friends.

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Eleanor and Alexander at a friend's birthday party in 2012.

After the party, Eleanor and Alexander became friends on Facebook and started sending each other lighthearted and flirtatious messages, records show. They chatted about sexual fantasies, and Eleanor offered to give him a massage. For a while their relationship went no further than the messages.

Eventually the two met up for a Sunday brunch date at Alexander’s apartment in Chelsea. They spent a few hours chatting, eating pizza, giving each other massages, and having sex, Alexander said. “She was supremely confident and taking the lead in almost everything we do,” Alexander later wrote on his blog.

He was horrified when he learned that Eleanor had told police a different story. She claimed he would not let her get her phone from her car unless she let him tie her up and that he’d poured water over her face in what Eleanor described as “waterboarding”. “I feel that I made it clear to him that I wasn’t into, to paraphrase him, ‘this kinky shit’,” she told police.

They had sex at least once that night, Eleanor told police, maybe twice. Her memory was hazy, she said. Her bipolar medication often made her drowsy, and she wasn’t supposed to drink with it. Asked by police if the sex was consensual, she replied: “I don’t think so, I was just laying there frozen with fear, I didn’t say yes, or no, I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t in control of my body, I was groggy....”

Alexander completely denied that account. He said that Eleanor consented to being tied up and that far from being waterboarded, she had asked him for a drink of water and it had spilled on her.

Alexander was arrested around two weeks later on suspicion of rape.

He spent a night in custody and six weeks on bail before the police released him without charge. He would later start a blog called “Falsely Accused” and discuss the case extensively in court and in the media.

He told BuzzFeed News that Eleanor was “100% guilty” of making up a “malicious” lie. “I’m not going to be bullied by people who suggest she is a victim,” he said. “Because she is not a victim, she is a nasty piece of work.”

When police didn’t charge Alexander, Eleanor thought the case was over, and so did the detectives who had worked on it. They had no plans to investigate her for lying. But someone else did.

RHIANNON

“Load of rubbish,” Paul told police after they arrested him in August 2011. “I've never sexually assaulted or hit a woman in my life.”

He faced 19 charges of rape, attempted rape, false imprisonment, and assault.

Paul was able to provide evidence that he was working or out of town for some of the dates when the assaults were alleged to have happened, and mobile phone data and road camera footage cast doubt on others.

Police and prosecutors met to figure out what to do next, and came to a sobering conclusion: They no longer had a case against Paul. “They eventually saw through her lies and knew she was lying all along,” Paul told BuzzFeed News.

At this point they also started to worry about something else. Paul had spent more than 30 days in jail, which didn’t reflect well on police. “I felt the reputational risk to the constabulary was great if the original suspect made a complaint or went to the media,” detective inspector Janice Pearson wrote in a memo later discussed in court. An Avon and Somerset police spokesperson told BuzzFeed News that “reputational risk” is “never” a factor in charging decisions.

They decided not only to drop charges against Paul but also to go after Rhiannon.

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“The arrest of the original victim was to be done in a very respectful manner,” Pearson wrote, “understanding there may be some truth to the account or that she had a previous history of abuse which was manifesting itself.” Officers gave an additional, baffling reason for investigating Rhiannon: She “would be very upset if the case was dropped and she would need an explanation which we would not provide sufficiently without arrest,” Pearson wrote.

Prosecutors then asked detectives to interview Rhiannon once more. They did not tell her she was now a suspect.

This was a controversial strategy. “I felt we would be treating the victim as a suspect but not affording her the rights as any other suspect who is arrested,” Pearson noted. She said they took care to prepare questions that were “open”, giving Rhiannon the opportunity to explain discrepancies in her story.

Prosecutors were not happy with the subsequent interviews.

Pearson claimed in her memo that she “received a very angry phone call” from a prosecutor, who upbraided her for not pushing Rhiannon “until she broke down and made an admission so she could be arrested”.

The CPS refutes this version of events “entirely”, a spokesperson for the agency said.

The case against Rhiannon was closed – for now.

ELEANOR

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For six months, Eleanor’s case was as good as closed.

But in the summer of 2013, Alexander brought a private prosecution – criminal proceedings carried out not by the state but by ordinary citizens or companies. “I intend to get your daughter sent to prison for a very long time for the crimes she has committed,” Alexander wrote to Eleanor’s father.

A private case has the same powers as a state prosecution. However, the CPS can stop a private prosecution if it believes it is not in the public interest. So in September 2013, Eleanor’s lawyer wrote to Keir Starmer, the director of public prosecutions at the time, asking him “as a matter of urgency” to stop Alexander’s case, saying it “falls short” of CPS charging standards.

Prosecutors did the opposite: They took up the case against Eleanor themselves.

And they overruled the Metropolitan Police to do so. Detectives did not want to charge Eleanor and refused to reopen their investigation, documents show. They believed that a prosecution against her would not succeed.

Alexander and the CPS say the police simply failed to investigate and were not in a position to form a view.

In fact, prosecutors didn’t need the police. Instead, they adopted the case handed to them by Alexander’s lawyers.

That case included the mutually flirtatious Facebook messages exchanged before their date and text messages Eleanor sent to mutual friends afterwards. She told one that she had “fun” and the pair were a “good match”, but later she texted another friend that she was on “suicide watch” after Alexander “fucked me and chucked me”. Prosecutors also pointed to CCTV footage of the couple’s shopping trip to Ann Summers – a high street lingerie and sex toy shop – the day after the alleged rape, as evidence that Eleanor’s “actions and behaviour” were “wholly inconsistent” with the allegation of rape she made.

Alexander told BuzzFeed News that the CCTV was conclusive. “Tell me, have you ever come across a rape victim who goes to a sex shop immediately after?” he said.

CCTV footage of Eleanor and Alexander shopping the day after the alleged incident.

The head of the CPS, Alison Saunders, would later say the footage “unassailably contradicted” Eleanor’s account of the shopping trip.

Even so, under CPS guidance “the first question” before deciding to prosecute someone for lying about rape is whether the accusation was “clear and unambiguous”. Eleanor’s account to the police raises questions about whether this test was met. However, a spokesperson said the evidence in Eleanor’s case “was strong and it was clear there was sufficient evidence for a realistic prospect of conviction”.

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After Alexander launched his private prosecution, Eleanor began to spiral. The rape counselling that the police had arranged when she was regarded as a victim was withdrawn, because she was now a suspect. Having lost the anonymity granted to rape victims, she was terrified of being identified in public. She became delusional and her behaviour turned increasingly bizarre, documents show. She believed that she was being followed and her phone had been bugged, and on one occasion police found her throwing food and shouting at staff in a supermarket.

Before they pursue false rape charges, police and prosecutors consider whether the suspect has any significant mental health issues, according to CPS guidance. The CPS was given a psychiatric report, which determined that Eleanor was fit to stand trial because she had the mental capacity to understand and challenge the court proceedings. But the report included a key caveat: She would need to be constantly evaluated, because the nature of her illness meant that her state “could quickly change”. His ultimate concern: She might kill herself.

He wrote that Eleanor was at “chronic and significant” risk of suicide.

Prosecutors set a court date.

RHIANNON

When police told Rhiannon they were dropping the case against Paul, she fled to the riverbank with a bottle of vodka and packets of antidepressants. But, slowly, she got back on her feet: She continued counselling, started thinking about going back to law school, and began to date a former coworker. Then, in November 2012, six police officers knocked on her door.

After Rhiannon’s last interview 10 months earlier, in which she was an unwitting suspect but police had not secured a confession from her, police had assigned more resources to the case against her.

In a memo later introduced in court, the police superintendent wrote that they had enough evidence to soon arrest Rhiannon. It also noted that Paul had recently filed a formal complaint against the police. “I was lucky my case never went to court,” Paul told BuzzFeed News. “It’s an experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

Even before a jury decided whether Rhiannon was guilty, authorities sent Paul £45,000 for legal costs and damage to reputation.

The six officers who arrested Rhiannon for perverting the course of justice took her to the police station.

There, Rhiannon told BuzzFeed News, she met the lawyer assigned to her case and learned she might be asked about her childhood trauma. After getting advice, she decided to confess in hopes she would just get a caution without having to talk about her past.

Still in shock, Rhiannon said, she read out loud a statement to police: “The allegations were not true and I’m sorry that I made them. I find it very difficult to understand why I said these things.”

Rhiannon made the confession because it “seemed like the best option at the time”, she told BuzzFeed News, and because she thought it could help her avoid prison. “It seemed like the only option, to be honest.”

It didn’t work. She was charged with 20 counts of perverting the course of justice and pleaded not guilty.

Police conducted a thorough investigation of Rhiannon’s life in order to secure her conviction. It was a harrowing experience: She later told the court that police contacted social services about the allegations against her and said they believed her then-unborn child was at risk.

They also dug through Rhiannon’s decades-old medical records and spoke with her childhood classmates to investigate whether she had faked other injuries throughout her life and lied about being abused as a child.

Rhiannon’s family members told police that her childhood had been abusive. The CPS guidance says that prosecutors should consider previous histories of domestic or sexual abuse when deciding whether to bring charges. In this case, prosecutors did not believe Rhiannon and moved forward anyway.

ELEANOR

The thought of testifying in open court so terrified Eleanor that she started showing up to court in a burqa to hide her face. Her lawyers hoped she wouldn’t have to take the stand, but they could give her no assurances. The reason: The CPS failed to share Eleanor’s police interview, despite a court order to do so. Without seeing this key piece of evidence, Eleanor’s lawyers say they couldn’t decide whether they would need further testimony from her, or whether they could make the case without putting her on the stand.

But finally, the CPS coughed up the tape, and on 4 April 2014, three days before her trial, her lawyers planned to give her good news: She didn’t need to go through the ordeal of testifying. They believed her police interview was convincing enough.

It was too late. That very morning, Eleanor’s mother found her hanged at their family home. “Dear Mummy and Daddy,” she had scrawled on the lined paper of an old diary. “I’m so sorry to do this to you, but I feel trapped and that there’s no way out.”

Eleanor asked that her funeral not be overly somber: “I would like happy songs‚ All things bright and beautiful. Bright and happy party dresses.”

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In the aftermath of her death, Eleanor’s parents demanded answers from the CPS, and won a meeting with Saunders, the director of public prosecutions.

Saunders apologised for the “unacceptable” late disclosure of evidence. It’s a problem she has had to address a number of times since, in the wake of an ongoing scandal over failures to disclose evidence in rape cases.

But in a statement in 2014, she said she was “satisfied that the decision making in this case was correct and that it was made in accordance with our policies and guidance.” Prosecutions for false rape claims are rare, she said, “but where there is sufficient evidence to show that a false claim may have been made, the potential harm to those affected must be very carefully considered and an appropriate decision made”. The CPS had carefully considered “Ms de Freitas’ mental health”, Saunders added.

The police, however, stood by their decision not to pursue Eleanor. “I have always maintained that Eleanor shouldn’t have been prosecuted,” detective inspector Julian King wrote in an email to Eleanor’s father.

After Eleanor’s death, Alexander sued Eleanor’s father, David de Freitas, for libel, saying he had endured weeks of “public rubbishing” after David publicly questioned why the CPS chose to prosecute his daughter. Alexander is currently appealing the case after a judge dismissed it last year. David declined to comment.

“I really hate that fucking family,” Alexander told BuzzFeed News. “He’s got all the feminists into a frenzy thinking that she’s some kind of victim.” “I’m the victim,” he said, “not them.”

This week the attorney general denied Eleanor’s father’s request for a public inquiry, confirming his view that it was right for the prosecution of Eleanor to go ahead.

RHIANNON

Bulbs flashed as Rhiannon walked through the courtroom door in April 2014, her 9-month-old daughter in tow. Since she was now on trial, tabloids were allowed to trumpet Rhiannon’s name: “Trainee barrister cried rape 11 times to avoid taking exams.”

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The prosecution initially said this was Rhiannon’s motive.

Rhiannon had been “reluctant to seek help because her allegations were untrue”, the prosecution said. “In reality she was having a nice time” with Paul.

Prosecutors introduced evidence showing that Paul’s arthritis prevented him from making a closed fist and a medical expert who reviewed photos of Rhiannon’s injuries and said they were compatible with being self-inflicted. They told the jury that Rhiannon had sent threatening texts to herself using a “mystery” mobile phone and then deleted them.

Perhaps the prosecution’s strongest evidence was that Paul had a “cast-iron” alibi for two of the 20 charges and that mobile phone analysis and other data seriously undermined others.

Rhiannon was cross-examined on the “list” she had long ago emailed her lecturer with the acknowledgement that it “makes no sense in places”, which she gave to the police after they arrested him. Also under scrutiny were dates she had referred to in police interviews as “guesstimates”.

Prosecutors said that Rhiannon had spun a years-long web of lies about Paul that had tricked many people in her life – friends, domestic violence counsellors, doctors, a lecturer, and finally experienced detectives – leading them to “substantiate her false allegations” without realising the deceit.

The prosecution argued that Rhiannon would have left Paul if she were truly afraid of him, and that she was an independent women capable of standing up for herself.

“These are dinosaur prejudices,” Rhiannon’s barrister said in her closing statement. “This prosecution has been a throwback to the bad old days.”

But throughout the proceedings, the prosecution reminded the jury: “This is not a rape trial.”

The prosecution abandoned its “student cried rape in order to pass her bar exams” argument after the defence pointed out that Rhiannon was an “outstanding” student and the allegations took place before and after school.

After an 11-week trial, the jury of 10 men and two women convicted Rhiannon on 12 counts out of 20.

Even after the verdict, no one seemed sure of a motive. “I don’t know why she did what she did,” judge Julian Lambert said, sentencing her to three and a half years in prison. “The likelihood is she cannot know herself.”

Rhiannon’s body, still producing milk, physically ached for her baby while she was in prison. She marked the days in her diary. “Didn’t even recognise my own daughter today,” she wrote after one visit. “This is so so cruel on her.”

Three months in, Rhiannon learned the solicitor general had appealed against her sentence – it was “unduly lenient”, they argued. Rhiannon was terrified: “That is absolutely my last chance of having a relationship with [my daughter] and it’s the last thing they could take from me,” she wrote.

The appeal was rejected. Rhiannon was released early in November 2015, after almost 17 months in prison. When she first sat down in the car on the way home, Rhiannon recalled, a strange expression came over her daughter’s face. “She just looked so confused,” she said. She spent the remainder of her sentence “on tag”, with an electronic monitor attached to her ankle.

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Rhiannon now lives in a remote area hours away from the closest airport and unlisted on Google Maps. Once, she planned on dedicating her life to the law. Now she struggles just to get a supermarket job. She spends her days homeschooling her daughter while her partner is at work. On days off, they build sandcastles on the beach. If her family hadn’t stuck by her, Rhiannon said, she wouldn’t have been able to cope.

“I’m one of the lucky ones,” she said.

[dragonmuse]

Alright, I'll bite. Out of contempt for the man at least. What other Joss Whedon works reflect his desperate desire to have a woman like him?

If you haven’t read it yet, I strongly encourage giving Kai Cole (Whedon’s ex-wife) open letter about him and their marriage a read. She quotes a letter he wrote her near the end of their marriage: “When I was running ‘Buffy,’ I was surrounded by beautiful, needy, aggressive young women. It felt like I had a disease, like something from a Greek myth. Suddenly I am a powerful producer and the world is laid out at my feet and I can’t touch it.”

That’s how he describes actresses that he wants. Beautiful. Needy. Aggressive. Needing what? Well, him of course. Kai Cole claims that he confessed to touching these women. Women that were in, all likelihood just young women that needed their boss to like them. 

That’s how he wanted to write Buffy (but seemed curtailed by the rest of the writing team most of the time),  so gave to Faith (consider her relationship with the mayor as a young, beautiful, aggressive woman that just needs a man to guide her. It may backfire in that case, but it was almost a prototype.). Then consider Cordelia and Xander. Oh look, a popular aggressive girl that decides nerdy (and often problematic in hindsight) funny guy is what she needs. Xander even ruins it because Willow ALSO needs him.  Then Cordelia and Wesley were briefly a thing. Which��I really just realized she was a teenager and Wesley was very much not at the time…ick.

Firefly is one of the best examples. Wash is a nerdy/quirky/funny guy (which is certainly how Joss perceives himself), married to the powerful, smart, gorgeous Zoe. Now, I think that relationship works in the show because Wash is genuinely a good person and it’s carefully written so he seems like a appealing choice. But it’s also clearly written as a fantasy. Zoe is larger than life, almost flawless. And totally dedicated to Wash.  Zoe escaped the worst of what Joss does to women because there are River and Inara to venerate and shame accordingly.

Certainly it’s what he did to Natasha, the character that prompted all of this.To me though what he did with Natasha felt like a culmination of this idea he’s circled for years. This sort of pseudo-feminist idea that if the woman is ‘strong’ (meaning she can beat people up, inner strength doesn’t factor into it) , ‘independent’ (so sassy! fires one liners, but probably never has much development on screen away from male characters), then she can also be ‘fragile’ (needs the love of a good, very smart, but perhaps not conventionally attractive man’).  And adding on top of that the worst tragedy in her life is that she’s *gasp* infertile and she must confess this so Bruce can love her entire broken self and thus deem her a lovable worthy person? Ick. Ick. ICK.

I never watched Dollhouse or got past the first few episodes of Agent of Shield, so I can’t say for sure what’s going on there. Though the very concept of Dollhouse was what turned me off: young woman is wiped blank of personality over and over to make her a useful tool. Joss was quoted as seeing himself in Topher on that show, so if you’ve seen it and know the character draw your own conclusions there.

The leaked script of his proposed Wonder Woman movie…let that remain in the dustbins of history where it deserves to be, but suffice to say that all his usual tropes were out in force.

Writing one’s fantasies isn’t a crime. It’s something I do all the time as a fic writer and even in my original writing. The problem with Whedon is him holding up these women and beaming proudly like he has somehow helped womankind by giving them these characters.  He wrote them for himself, made them into what he wanted a woman to be, and to pretend that was magnanimous feminism is gross.