Exclusive: Analysis offers ‘smoking gun evidence’ that overturns previous assumption that bronze age individual was male
"The Upton Lovell Shaman, a bronze age individual who has been depicted in museum exhibits as a bearded spiritual leader and metalworker, was female, an ancient DNA analysis has revealed.
The 4,000-year-old skeleton, along with the extensive collection of stone axes, metalworking tools and the remains of an elaborate ceremonial cloak found in the grave, is viewed as among the most significant bronze age burials in Britain.
The artefacts date to about 1,800BC, a time when the ability of metalworkers to transform lumps of rock into molten metal would have given them a special – possibly even spiritual – position in society. Such roles, many had assumed, would have been reserved for men, but this narrative has been turned on its head by the latest analysis."
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Superman said, “all immigrants are people and deserve respect and love they aren’t aliens they are humans and the people who disagree should die” and supergirl said, “A women’s purity shouldn’t be defined by the man who has caused them harm and the exploitation of young women is disgusting and the men who do such things should die” and they are right
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you can choose to break up with someone for any reason. and it’s your choice. you’re allowed. you don’t need to ask for permission. you don’t even need to do it in person. you won’t get in trouble. in fact, most of the time you’ll be in trouble for fucking staying.
they don’t even have to suck! you can just be tired! or bored! or want to be single! you don’t have to stay with a person you don’t want to be with because they “are such a good person and haven’t done anything wrong”!
WHY DO I KEEP TALKING TO WOMEN WHO ARE STUCK IN RELATIONSHIPS THEY DONT WANT TO BE IN
with no-fault divorces currently on the fucking chopping block, we really need to start telling young women that they have autonomy when it comes to their romantic relationships.
no, you don’t have to date that guy just cuz he wants to date you.
no, you don’t have to stay with her because she doesn’t want to break up.
no, you don’t have to keep dating them even though they haven’t cheated/abused you/whatever horrible thing is your only reference for ending a relationship.
this is basic info, but you’d be surprised at how many women don’t understand this, or feel like it’s not true.
and before ANYONE says that this goes for everyone, not just women, yes of course it does. anyone of any gender can suffer from this.
but let’s not deny that women are taught this shit from a young age. be virtuous, forgiving, kind, soft, turn the other cheek, it’s just cuz he’s a man and you’re a girl and you don’t understand. stay with him or you’re a bitch.
the funny thing about this is that both people born in the 2000s are reblogging this freaking out because they arent ready to be adults and people who were born before the 2000s are freaking out about how they feel old and that it cant be happening because all people born in the 2000s are like 4
Having a traumatic childhood means you cannot talk even objectively about your basic foundational experiences without it being "venting", even if you're not actually venting. You just straight up have a huge chunk of your life you can't talk about, full stop, without it being trauma dumping.
And it not being socially acceptable to talk about your own childhood is super alienating. Sometimes people want to know why, and any answer you can give them is going to be off putting.
It's to the point I get irritated when something I said is framed as venting when I'm literally just talking about my life experiences, doing my best to keep emotion out of it.
when I was in high school, I overheard two older students talking about a friend of theirs.
One of them said something like, "it doesn't bother me that [Friend] was in residential mental health treatment, I just wish they wouldn't talk about it ALL the time".
The other replied, "Well, that was all of last year for them. So when they say 'when I was in treatment,' it's like when you say 'last year'."
I try to remember that any time someone says something that sounds Shocking to me. sometimes one person's scary special crisis is another person's last year.
If you want to be accepting of mental illness, you need to accept the fact that some people's everyday lives are going to be terrifying to you. That doesn't mean they don't get to talk about it. Stop forcing hurt, isolated people to become even MORE hurt and isolated because you can't fathom toughening up a bit.
Fucking literally though, there are entire portions of my life that I can't talk about to friends and other people cause it just makes everyone uncomfortable, it pushes people away and makes them stop talking to us, theres a number of people that have been in our life that aren't anymore because we opened up and told them about some of our childhood experiences, we know it's not "normal" but it was for us, a normal part of friendship and connecting with people is to open up and talk about your lived experiences, but when you've been through trauma, and have had close calls with death you aren't allowed to do that, and boy does it make you feel like a social outcast
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feminist retelling shoulsnt be the woman does some girlboss shit femist retelling is she does the same stuff except u actually give a shit abt her perspective and thoughts and feelings as a human being this time
I think one of the greatest realizations a lonely person can come to is that there really are people who care. People who think about you, check in on you, genuinely want to hear from you, and love you. Those gestures can seem small or even be taken for granted, but to someone who’s felt alone for a long time, they can mean absolutely everything.
As you know, I love me some GermanShepherd!Tim and blackcat!reader 🤭
So, as the lore goes, they had a competitive thing going on back in high school where the only one smarter than her was Tim (a literal detective). He's the reason she got 2nd place in literally every competition, and it had her SEETHING.
Flash forward 3-4 years, and they're dating🥰 all those juvenile feelings dissipating and replaced with love and adoration, right? right??? Yeah, that's what she thought, too. Turns out, it was all hiding away deep down inside of her, waiting for the chance to show its ugly head. Who knew that Wayne Manor would be the place for it to happen😅
Okay, so now to the request! Tim brings her to meet the family over dinner, but beforehand, they have some alone time, and he takes her on a tour of the manor. There's that distinctive hall of family photos that people tend to enjoy seeing, but of course, for black!cat reader, this brings back memories from highschool. There's an entire section dedicated to Tim (as all the kids have) and a lot of his accomplishments and trophies and competition photos are up on the wall. And she can't help but feel all that juvenile anger bubble up inside her because "oh yeah, you ARE the guy who stole first place from me for 4 years straight😤😤" she can't even look at him anymore without giving him the side eye, because what do you mean this IDIOT is smarter than her??? The idiot who forgets to sleep, eat, and other normal human functions? The idiot who doesn't understand how too much caffeine will fuck him up?? The idiot who thinks pineapple belongs on pizza??? THIS GUY???? Now that she's gotten to know Tim, she just can't believe that the boy even made it to 21 let alone beat her at ANYTHING!
Cue her ignoring him the entire dinner to a point where the family is whispering, "Does she even like him?" Of course, poor Tim is going through the 5 stages of grief in the seat next to you trying to earn forgiveness for crimes committed, unintentionally, 4 years ago😂 he usually the only one who can get blackcat!reader to relax, but this time that mean energy is directed towards him, while she's absolutely pleasant to the rest of the family.
Now that I'm at the end, I feel like this wasn't a request, just me blabbering 😅😅 feel free to do something with it. If not, I'll be sending some others in too and I'll be sure to make it real requests 😇😇
@herodedicatedblog
I love this so much. For some reason, I decided to make Tim a bit of a freak about it, but I think it's funny. Anyway, thank you for the request, babe! I hope you like it!
--------------
“What do you think?” Tim hums in a soft question. He had his arm over your shoulder as you both walked down one of the halls.
You shrug loosely, “It's not as oppressive as I thought it’d be.”
“Oppressive?” Tim laughs under his breath.
“Yeah,” you nod against his shoulder, “I thought I would be able to figure out why you're like that.”
Tim snorts, “Like what?”
“You know, great detective, no survival skills,” you tease as you slip out from under his shoulder to walk backwards in front of him. It was a game, and you could see Tim could read you for it.
He shakes his head, “You're gonna get me in trouble.”
“You are a grown-ass adult, Tim. Come on,” you turn and lightly jog away from him. You hear his footsteps pick up and jolt to run faster down the hall with a bout of laughter. You make it to the bend in the hall before you're hauled and spun, Tim blowing a raspberry against the back of your neck. You make a mournful, disgusted sound at the spit he leaves behind as he sets you down.
He pays you no mind, squeezing you back against him as he says, “Worst goon chase ever.”
“I am not a goon,” you say, indignant. You're about to turn around, to kiss him in mock fierce upset about being called that, but you still at the flash of a bright bronze you hadn’t seen in years.
You pry your way out of Tim’s grip and step down the new hallway to look at where the bronze medal hangs in a shadow box on the wall; Gotham Academy’s Elite Academic award. You find yourself glaring before you could stop yourself. You'd spent years trying to get one, but it was always out of your fingertips because of one person.
“That’s Damian’s,” Tim says casually, “he’s a real twerp about it cause he got it earlier than I did.”
“You poor thing,” you scoff, a bite to your words hadn’t carried in a long time. Tim’s eyes widen at the tone. His cheeks flush, but your moving down to stare at his accolades. Your hand presses to the frame of a certificate from the Honors Chemistry course you had taken together. “I wanted this so bad. God, you were annoying”
Tim stares. You hadn’t used this kind of tone with Tim in years, not since you reconnected, not since you started dating. He forgot how much it got him hot under the collar. You hadn’t even really directed it at him yet, and he was already feeling flustered. He thought it was hormones then, puberty making the worst of your little rivalry. Perhaps he had been wrong.
You, on the other hand, are fuming. All those silly little school awards that you worked so hard to get were here hanging on a wall of accomplishments for your boyfriend. God, that idiot was your boyfriend. He couldn’t even bother to pay attention to a clock to go to bed, but he beat you out in nearly every higher education competition Gotham Academy had.
Tim’s watch beeps as a reminder for dinner. It knocks Tim out of his own stare at you, but it does nothing to stop you from glaring at the framed photo of him with the awards.
“Baby?” He murmurs. He curls his hand around yours. You don’t pull away, but you don't thread your fingers like you usually would. “It’s time for dinner.”
Your gaze finally leaves the photo to look at him. You squint at him, and Tim has to stop himself from dragging you into the nearest room instead of down to dinner. Your voice is clipped when you speak, “Right. Dinner.”
You move without waiting for him, arms crossing so he can’t take your hand again. It should annoy Tim, emphasis on should. God, he hopes you lighten up at dinner.
*****
You do lighten up at dinner, regrettably not with Tim. Or not regrettably, Tim can't quite decide yet. You'd been your usual mildly friendly self, making conversation with everyone. Everyone but Tim.
He definitely wouldn’t hold it against you. The Wayne family was too big for its own good. There were plenty of people to talk to without you ever having to meet Tim’s eye. Most people would mark it off as just that. Unfortunately, the Wayne family was also made up of the greatest detectives in the world. The side eye he was getting from Cass was not giving him any confidence.
It’s fine, he told himself; she was just a little miffed, is all. It would pass.
“So Damian,” You say lightly, but Tim knows that tone. He shifts in his seat, preparing for the dig about to happen. “ Tim tells me you received the Elite Academics award two years before he did. That’s amazing, kid.”
Tim feels the shift immediately, all eyes on him. Tim ignores it to glare at Damian, who looks overjoyed that you seem to dislike Tim at the moment.
“Yes, Drake has always been a little slow,” Domain mocks. It makes him want to strangle the kid…
Although not as much as he wants to drag you upstairs for the way you smile, cocky and a little mean as you say, “only when he chooses to be, which is a lot more than it used to be.”
Tim is dumbfounded, shockingly turned on, and seriously wrapped up in this mood you're having. His entire family seemed put off by your mood, aside from Damian, of course, but that wasn’t surprising. Nobody comments at the time, thankfully (He did not want to explain that he was very much into you right now to them). It’s later as things are wrapping up and you’ve seemingly settled, that he's dragged away from you. Steph and Dick are on him in seconds, badgering him.
“Are you sure you're dating?”
“I thought you said she was shy and sweet. Why’d she look like she wanted to bite you?”
And so on. Tim flusters under the questions before he gets them to hush, “She was just a little upset tonight, is all.”
“Oh? What’d you do?” Steph asks right off the bat.
Dick’s offering advice before Tim can answer, “Just apologize, girls love it when you can admit you're wrong.”
Both Tim and Steph roll their eyes at him. Tim comments, “You use that check to get in their beds?”
Dick shrugs, “Sometimes?”
“You're such a whore sometimes,” Steph scoffs before she’s back on Tim, “So? What is it?”
“High school.” He says plainly.
“What?” they say at the same time.
“We used to hate each other in high school… she used to hate me in high school. I was trying to right by the Drake and Wayne name. She always got second,” Tim explains.
Dick quirks a brow, “That doesn’t make sense why she’s upset now.”
“We walked down that cheesy awards hall Bruce has for us.”
“Oh? Oh.” Steph nods in understanding, “She’d forgotten she didn’t like you. That’s kind of funny.”
“Thanks,” Tim huffs, “We're gonna talk about it tonight.”
“Good luck, bud,” Dick pats him on the shoulder, and he rolls his eyes before your calling out for him in the foyer.
Goodbyes are had, and then you and Tim are off to a silent car ride home that makes Tim squirm. He lets you get ready for bed before he even attempts a conversation.
“Baby,” he murmurs as you climb under the covers without a peep. You give him a noncommittal hum that he takes as a reason to continue, “I’d forgotten that you hate me.”
That pulls your attention. You turn on your side to face him, where he sits up on his side. “Timmy, I don’t hate you.”
He sinks on his pillows and turns to face you too, a teasing smile on his lips. “Not now. You used to though… You know I was never intentionally trying to beat you out on things. I-Bruce had just adopted me. I had to make him proud both in and out of the Robin uniform.”
“I know,” you say quietly. You’d had a similar conversation about the weight of the legacies Tim bears, one that concluded in his showering for the first time in a week and crashing in bed.
“Yeah?” Tim’s hand finds yours under the covers, squeezing.
You finally squeeze back, “I didn’t hate you then either. You were just very irritating, and the reminder got me all worked up, and I don't know, it's dumb.”
There’s that biting tone again. Tim tries to be normal for the sake of the conversation, but you’ve always been able to read him for filth. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Tim,” you say almost a scold. That he was accustomed to, but this topic was harder to explain.
He lets out a sigh, “I think I liked you in high school.”
Your nose scrunches, and then your turning your face into your pillow to laugh. It makes Tim flush a little, but he's happy to see you happy again. You peek at him, “You think?”
“Uh, yeah?” he shifts closer, hooking a hand around your waist to tug you against him, “I thought it was like puberty and stuff back then, but you got mean again tonight and I just-”
The groan that follows his words is not something of innocent thought. The pure glee on your face is something Tim only mildly regrets.
You pinch his side playfully as you murmur, “Timothy Drake, you freak.”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, dipping his head to tuck his face against your neck. Your hand slithers up into his hair to tug him back out.
“Don't hide now,” you scoff, and it thrills right up Tim's spine. You feel it. You know, and it makes you laugh. You shove his shoulder, forcing him to lie down so you can climb on top of him. Tim flushes dark at the glare you give him. It's not the same as back then. There’s still that lovey-doveyness in your eyes, but it's got him riled anyway.
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"Vanderhorst had been under the influence of MDMA and three litres of vodka she had consumed on the night of the offence last September, her lawyer Michael Hill told the court."
I think this should count as a response to art and not as vandalism. This statue made her feel something, and that something was "this would be better with googly eyes
