#why am I quoting outside sources in an answer to a sentence long ask?? good question! idk

[helenofblackthorns]

current status of the James Essay 😁😁

[blindbeta]

I have a question! Thank you for existing I deeply appreciate it. I was wondering if it is possible for a blind person to be able to read by learning the shape of raised letters, rather than braille. I ask because I have a situation in which it is reasonable that the blind character would know this, if possible, and the person they are travelling with is completely illiterate.I thought it might be interesting if the seeing character could describe the letters, or find a way to texture them so the blind character could tell them what something says. I have done a great deal of research for this character, but this is the one part I can't find a clear answer for. Thank you very much.

Good question, nonnie.

The short answer is, maybe? It would depend on the time period and location of your characters.

Since you want both characters to read, I’ll assume this culture has a formal writing system in place and values written communication.

A Brief History

In order to address this, allow me to offer a brief history of Braille. Because what you’re describing is exactly what happened in France before Braille was invented. This informative video summarizes it pretty well. Here is the text version of the video. The video mentions the embossed letter or raised type method of reading that was used at the time. It was difficult to read and the letters had to be very large in order to be understood, making it harder to read words and sentences. Reading must have been very slow.

According to this page on the National Braille Press website, reading this way required slowly tracing raised print letters. To write, one had to memorize the shapes and try to create them on paper, although they could not read the results.

Creating books was even more difficult. According to this page, [quote] “teacher Valentin Haüy made books with raised letters by soaking paper in water, pressing it into a form and allowing it to dry. Books made using this method were enormous and heavy, and the process was so time-consuming that l'Institution Royale des Jeunes Aveugles, or the Royal Institution for Blind Youth, had fewer than 100 of them when Louis Braille was a student there.” [End quote]

Braille books are already notorious for taking up several volumes. Large print books are only a little better. Textbooks used in schools take up several shelves to translate one print textbook.

Individual use and traveling with these things must have been impossible for the everyday person, even if you were a student.

Also, in this video by blind YouTuber Molly Burke, at the 9:05 time-stamp she answers the question: why don’t we raise print letters for blind people? She explains that it took too long to read and is not as efficient as Braille.

In the interest of time, I’ll try to keep this brief. The transition from the raised print letters to Braille was not a smooth one.

In 1826, first embossed letters published in English was James Gall’s triangular alphabet. Read about it and other systems here.

Another source says Gall’s writing system was introduced in 1831. The system did not gain much popularity outside of Endinburgh.

According to this page: [quote] “In 1832 The Society of Arts for Scotland held a competition for the best embossed type. There were 15 entries but Edmund Fry’s alphabetical system of roman capitals triumphed. Shortly afterwards John Alston began printing at the Glasgow Asylum for the Blind using a slightly modified version of Fry’s design. “Alston type” proved popular and inspired similar forms across Europe and North America.” [end quote]

None of these really caught on outside of certain areas.

In 1821, Charles Barbier was invited to the Royal National Institute For Blind Youth in Paris to demonstrate his Night Writing invention, which was developed for soldiers to read in the dark. It was too difficult to read and so was not used by soldiers, nor did it end up being used by the blind schools. However, a young Louis Braille was in the audience and was inspired.

In 1825, Braille thought he had figured out a good system of writing.

In 1829, he published the first Braille alphabet.

1834 - Braille is invited to Exposition of Industry in Paris, which extended the popularity of the Braille system.

1846- a school for the blind in Amsterdam starts using Braille’s system.

In 1852, Louis Braille dies.

1854- Royal National Institute For Blind Youth officially adopt Braille as official system after fighting it for years.

Because Braille didn’t take hold as quickly in Britain, the British and Foreign Blind Association, all of whom were blind, voted in 1870. They decided Braille was the best system. Braille quickly fell into use all over the world with the exception of the United States. By 1882, the embossed letter system was over.

In the U.S, from 1868-1918, the New York Point system was used. American Braille (developed by a blind teacher named Joel W. Smith) was also used from 1878 to 1918, when the U.S switched the standardized English Braille.

Would Your Character Know Raised Type?

Remember how I said you might be able to do this depending on the time period and place?

If you have French characters, you can used the raised type method as you described in your ask if the story takes place before, probably, 1825. It would be reasonable for your character to know the raised type method if they had attended a blind school before the Braille method was adopted in 1854. Between roughly 1829 and 1854, the French blind character attending school would know about the Braille system and probably complain about their school not teaching it despite Braille himself teaching there.

Similarly, they could used raised type depending on where the story is set, when the character attended school, and what system was in place at the time. If the story is a fantasy, you could make up a history similar to what I described above, although it would be important to have schools for the blind and have Braille or the equivalent be created by a blind character.

Remember that your blind character needs to learn the raised type method if you want them to use it.

If Braille would be available in real life (such as a more modern setting), I would prefer a blind character use Braille instead. Which is why I tried to offer alternatives that were historically justified.

I don’t feel very comfortable with a blind character having to use a raised type method rather than another system, because Braille literacy is declining nowadays and something about learning a raised type method over Braille (or other system, depending on where you set the story and what they were using at the time) doesn’t sit right with me. Your character doesn’t have to use Braille specifically, but I would rather they use the system that is available to blind people at that time. For example, if your story is set in the United States, it would be fine to use American Braille or the New York Point, depending on the time period.

If your story is modern, blind people can usually read raised print letters on signs, such as for the bathroom. In fact, a lot of people who can’t read Braille get by this way. However, keep in mind that we have screen-readers and audiobooks now. People aren’t reading entire texts or even many words with this method.

As for other countries, I tried my best to research what places, such as Japan, used before Braille. For several reasons, including the European-centric search results that keep coming up over and over again, finding the correct information is proving difficult. In some cases, previous methods may have unfortunately been lost due to colonization. It is important that we acknowledge that.

I feel that it would be easier to leave the research up to you since you know where you want to set your story and your own personal background, historical knowledge, etc.

Keep in mind that not all blind people in the world had access to formal education, depending on the place, time, their social class, etc. If you want your blind character to know how to read, you’ll need to find or create a setting that allows for it.

Generally, I would prefer blind characters use methods designed for blind people, whatever that happens to be in that time or culture. Prioritizing the other characters’ needs and having a blind character learn raised type over Braille when Braille actually exists in the story doesn’t work for me.

Like always, I suggest having more than one blind character in the story to avoid tokenism. Also, since your character is going to teach another character, be sure to show your blind character’s needs and goals as well.

I hope this helps. Feel free to message me or send another ask. I am not a historian and so if anyone wants to correct anything, such as dates, or provide any relevant knowledge, please feel free. I tried my best with this question. I would be grateful for help if anyone has more information!

-BlindBeta

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #443

“it’s not a life sentence, but a death dream for you”

When was the last time you were in the hospital? Me personally, uhhh sometime in 2017? Why were you there? I had a cyst removal surgery. Do you like Cheez-Its or Cheese Nips better? Cheez-Its. Have you worn headphones at all today? Yeah, I pretty much always do because YouTube is always open and on a video. When was the last time you had blood drawn? A few months ago or something? I'll be getting some drawn shortly though for genetic testing; due to my mom having some dysfunctional cancer prevention gene, all her children are getting tests to see if we inherited it. The last time you got blood drawn, what was the reason? I want to say I was tested for anemia most recently. What color eyes does/did your father have? Brown. What do you daydream most about? Things I wish I didn't daydream about. What is your relation to the last child you spoke to? They're my niece and nephew. Do you believe the Holocaust happened? No fucking shit? Do you prefer zebra stripes, tiger stripes, or leopard spots? Tiger stripes, ig. When did you last see a dog? At my nephew's b-day party a couple weeks ago. Nicole brought her dog Zeke over. Have you ever been in the mountains when the moon and stars were up? No, but omg I wish!!!!!!!!!! Do you know anyone from Canada? Yep. Has a cat ever licked you? Yeah. Roman especially loves to give kisses. Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? The Wizard of Oz park, probs. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that shit's rad. o: Have you ever walked on a frozen lake/river? No, that sketches me out. I'd be afraid of the ice breaking and me falling in. Have you ever seen a volcano? No. Have you ever met an Alaskan? Met in-person, no. But I do have an online friend who's from Alaska. Or may still live there? Idk. Have you ever mowed the lawn (even a little bit)? No. Have any unpleasant public transit stories to tell? Nah. Do you know any German words? Seeing as I took four semesters of the language in high school, I know a good deal. However, my skill has definitely atrophied with time and lack of application. Do you have a passport? No. Are your teeth straight? I mean, mostly. I had braces for too long, but I didn't wear my retainer, so they've moved back some. Would you mind dating someone significantly shorter than you? Yeah, sure. I've never understood why height is an issue for some people. Can you quote the movie Mean Girls? No. I personally never got the craze. Have you ever swam in the Atlantic Ocean? I have. The Pacific? No. Can you make yourself cry? No. Have you ever held a starfish? Not a live one. What would you do if you found out your ex was pregnant/fathered a child? Faint or vomit. Wail. All three. Are you very close to your siblings? No. :/ Can you do CPR? No. Favorite sport to watch in the summer Olympics? I don't care. Ever flushed a fish? Yes. Ever been paid for sex or a sexual favor? No. I wouldn't agree to that. Last friend you talked to online? Sara. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? No. What is the best ice cream flavor? Vanilla. You have so many topping options. What’s your favorite thing to do outside? Photograph nature, especially wild animals. What would you spend $1,000 on? A big, really pro tattoo. What was the best (non-romantic) night you’ve had? Hm. I don't know. Who did you last lay in a bed/couch/recliner with? Mom and I sat together on the couch some time ago. Do you keep a planner? No. What are you craving right now? I've got a seriously random craving for shell pasta with a nice, meaty tomato sauce. Do you want kids anytime soon? DEFINITELY not soon, but also never. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. What’s the best feeling in the world? Knowing you're in love and really feeling it. What’s something you really want right now, be honest. There's a lot of things. Who in your family do you act like the most? I don't know, really. Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? My mom, 100%. Do you believe that your first true love can be your only love in life? Of course not. Have you ever kissed under water? Yes. Is there that one guy that you’ll always have feelings for no matter what? Suuuure is. Wish it wasn't like that, but I don't see it ever changing, to be real... Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? 100%? No, I can't say I am entirely. Have your parents ever caught you kissing a guy? "Caught me?" How old is this question meant for? Yes, they've seen me kiss a guy before. If you mean like, seriously kiss-kissing, no. Which one of your exes hates you the most? Probably Jason. Are you named after anyone? No. Well, my middle name has been passed down, but "Brittany" wasn't from anybody else in specific. What reminds you the most of your last relationship? The song "The Only Exception" by Paramore. Have you ever rejected someone but they still wouldn’t give up on you? In elementary school, yes. When growing up, did your family always eat at the dinner table together? Usually, yes, at least when growing up. Sometimes we'd use little tables to eat in the living room though while watching TV. What is the greatest source of happiness in your life? My mom, best friend, and pets. What was the last charity/cause you donated to? I'm unsure, actually. Who was the last person you got a handwritten letter from? Sara! :') Did your parents read bedtime stories to you when you were little? Mom did. Have any of your worst fears ever come true? Yes. The greatest fear I've ever had was losing Jason, and that happened. Is anyone in your family divorced? My parents, for one. My older half-sister has also be divorced because her ex is an absolute piece of manipulative horse shit. Has anyone in your family gotten pregnant as a teenager? I think my mom? No, maybe not... Idk. I ain't doing the math. What’s your greatest talent? If you want a serious answer and not something self-depracating, I suppose writing. Would you ever want to get a master’s degree? It'd be cool, but I've never *actually* wanted to pursue that. Have you ever worn revealing clothing in order to get attention? No. Have you ever been falsely accused of being racist? I've never been accused of being racist, because I'm not. To you, is sex just about physical pleasure, or do you see it as an expression of love and commitment? Absolutely the latter. I could never engage in sex without deep emotional commitment. How many times have you been drunk in the past 6 months? Zero. What’s your favorite French food? I have no idea. What’s the most elaborate recipe you know how to cook? Nothing. Which rooms of your house have doors that lead outside? The living room and kitchen. Best purchase you ever made? My snake. :') Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? I haven't seen him a long time, but boy did I have a thing for James Hetfield in high school. There are defs others, but no one else immediately comes to mind. Have you ever been caught sneaking out? No, because I've never tried to. How many Facebooks have you had? Just the one I still use. Have you ever been punched in the face? No. When was the last time you talked to the first person you kissed? The beginning of February, 2017. What is the latest you have ever slept in? Past 5. Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? No. Do you text when you drive? Fuck no. You couldn't pay me to. What movie do you really want to see that’s out? I don't even know what movies are out right now. Did America really put a man on the moon? Eventually, yes. Call me crazy, but I do believe the supposed first one was faked, though, to "beat" Russia in the space race. Do some research and it's pretty shocking. Would you like to date someone a lot purer than you? Idc. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No, but I turn the brightness down for if I wake up in the middle of the night and want to check the time. Have you slept in a bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you didn’t say it back? Yes. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? I don't believe so. Do you like tattoos and piercings? Helllll yes. :') What are you really into? Animals, art, some weird Korean guy on the Internet... Do your parents like your best friends? Yes. Have you ever taken a nap with a member of the opposite sex? Yeah. Do you have weak upper body strength? Yes. What color was the last cup you drank from? It's just clear glass. How old is your oldest sibling? I actually don't know her exact age. 30-something. What was the last thing you ate that had nuts in it? A Nature Valley cashew bar I had earlier today. How many pieces did the last puzzle you completed have? I have no idea. Who did you last shake hands with? uhhhhhhhh Has anybody asked you out on a date recently? Nah. When was the last time somebody asked you to be their girlfriend? When Girt asked me out a few years ago. Name something you’re picky about: Food. Who did you last ask for help? My mom. Do you like corn? Yeah. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Right now I honestly probably would, believe it or not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mum. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? Yeah. How do you earn money? The only occasions where I ever and very rarely earn money is if someone (non-family, of course) pays me to take pictures for them. Where were you raised? All you need to know is a crappy town in eastern NC. Are your ears gauged? No, but I want the first holes in my earlobes to be, but only with very small gauges. I just can't figure out how to do it myself, at least with the gauges I have. I think I'm missing something. Explain what triggered your last kiss? We were saying goodbye. Could you go a month without talking to your best friend? I mean I could, but it'd seriously fucking suck. Have you ever made out in a park? No, because I don't do that in public. What are you listening to? "Paint You With My Love" by Marilyn Manson. I wasn't big on the album when it came out, but this is one of the songs that's aight to me. Last thing you said out loud? I gave Venus a little wave and said "hey babe" or something like that like I do sometimes when she's slithering around and looks out towards me. Are you sad? Always at least a little bit. I have been kinda down this evening. Where is your dad? I would hope at home. He's probably watching TV, or maybe in bed.

[captain-of-the-historicfuture]

~hello~ !! For the meta asks!: 3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21, 24, and 25 :))

Hello!! Thank you for sending these; I was really excited to see that ask game and I was hoping somebody would send some in. It still took me a while to actually answer them though, and for that I apologise. But without further ado! Some meta answers (under the cut because they ended up being fairly long, whoops):

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (Consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway.)

I thought of a few examples, but they could basically be grouped together under a common theme: whumpy/angsty scenes that were self-indulgent as all heck. The whole self-indulgent aspect often required the characters to be just the teeniest, tiniest bit OOC and/or necessitated rather unrealistic plot circumstances. So it was simply easier to keep such scenes as maladaptive daydreams, rather than trying to think of explanations for the character/plot issues…or exposing myself to judgement for them LOL.

Receiving permission to write/share one such scene anyway is an opportunity I can’t let slip by though. It might be because I’m writing this while running on zero (0) hours of sleep—let’s hear it for insomnia, y’all!—but I suddenly couldn’t remember any of my newer ideas under this category. However, I did recall a one-shot I had started writing a couple of months ago that sort of counts? “Sort of” because I could actually be arsed to write it since I was, ya know, writing it. Only got about six hundred words down though.

…should I share those six hundred words…?

………nahhh. I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet.

But here’s the gist of it: Coulson and May (because of course it’s Philinda) were married for quite some time before the Attack on New York. But then Coulson DiedTM and then got ResurrectedTM. But gasp of horror, he had to lose his memories of his romantic relationship with May because reasons. (I actually did have some ideas for those reasons but sshhhh this is about me yeeting context and setup.)

The first half of S1 still happens as normal (except MayWard doesn’t happen because??? Vows) and it’s now post-E20 “Nothing Personal”. The morning after (or a morning soon after, whatever) the T.A.H.I.T.I. reveal! May’s mom—who doesn’t know about GH.325 and whom May fed a cover story about Coulson divorcing her or something equally as oof, IDK—shows up at the hotel and starts ripping into Coulson for breaking her daughter’s heart, then dragging her back into the field with her ex-husband (him), then accusing her of terrible things and forcing her away again.

Poor guy’s confused as heck, and so is the team, and soon enough so is Lian. The only one who understands what’s going on is May, and she’s freaking dying off to the side like why is this happening to me and eventually everybody’s like! Explain??? (Was thinking about including something from Coulson like, “Are you still keeping things from me?” Just for that extra smidge of angst, yay!)

So yeah then May gives a, like, two-sentence debriefing that elicits more questions than answers. Coulson decides to take May aside and they have a heart-to-heart. Lots of feelings and angst and hurt/comfort and at some point plenty of kissing too. Just! May hiding her feelings for Coulson’s sake but really magnified, plus some actual apologies and consideration of the grief May’s been through on Coulson’s part.

And uhh yeah that’s basically it I dunno hdsjncjshd. I warned y’all it’s OOC, plot-bendy, and very self-indulgent!

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

I don’t think I could name a single character for this. I get different things out of taking on different voices, you know? I guess recently I’ve found myself gravitating towards more taciturn and introspective points of view, like JQ from my original novel Rosewood or M. Yisbon from my…other original novel Temple.

Generally, however, I like tackling stories from an outsider’s perspective. That’s why I so rarely write my more “substantial” (serious? demanding? for lack of better words?) projects from the PoV of my “preferred” character. This usually means writing from their love interest’s perspective, but not always. With shorter fanfic, using a more removed/unconventional/niche PoV can be really fun. Like, I once wrote a canon compliant ficlet purely(-ish) about Philinda from Tony Stark’s perspective. That isn’t always sustainable with stories that demand more character development or closer character studies, however, which is why it’s a good thing I like writing drabbles!

9. Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?

My word counts tend to run long, but I usually only write one-shots for fanfic. If I’m even inspired with a novella- or novel-length story idea for a fandom, you already know I’m in deep with them. And if I actually find the motivation to plan and execute that idea? Dangg. That’s only ever happened…twice, maybe thrice, and I’m in a lot of fandoms.

At times, I wish I could go for more of a middle ground ’cause, like, you know what I love to see? An AO3 dashboard with several completed novellas for my ship/character of choice. I mean yes, I hecking love >90k fics, but sometimes I’m in the mood for quick reads…and what am I supposed to do when I burn through all the drabbles and 2k one-shots? (Besides despair and/or reread my faves desperately.) Novellas are basically always safe for me LOL, and I’d hope to be able to give as much as I take.

Ultimately though, I think I’m okay with where I am with regards to that. I wish I could write more in general, but I’d be okay with “writing more” just meaning “writing more one-shots”, ya know? More than okay, really. I have mad respect for fic writers who have, like, a hundred or more one-shots under their belt for this one ship. The fandom ecosystem would be incomplete without them (as well as every other type of writer, but sshhh that’s the type of writer I’m closest to being right now).

I’m definitely a plotter, and I definitely prefer it that way. It’s cool having such a detailed record of my process. I like feeling like a frazzled genius on the brink of a major discovery with all of my different outlines and colour coding and many drafts and various websites.

12. Do you want your writing to be famous?

Not exactly. It might be cool if my original works were recognisable in the world, but I don’t think I’d want to be recognisable. As for fanfic, I’d low-key enjoy gaining a place in that fandom’s community as a fic writer. Like someone who gave and got fic gifts from fic writer friends, who participated in challenges and GCs, who received writing prompts on Tumblr, whose name was known for doing a certain trope/genre a bunch of times… Ya know what I mean?

Unlikely to happen when I’m so hecking hesitant to publicly (i.e., outside of AO3) claim credit for my writing, but fjnskfsjhfjs. A writer can dream, right?

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?

Of those three, tags are the easiest for me, for I have a reliable system for figuring out those.

Next easiest would probably be titles. For fanfiction, I like to use titles that are a quote from the source material. You should have seen all of my old Hamilton fanfic… I was really proud of some of those titles. And I don’t mean, like, whole lines—usually only two to five words. It’s a unique type of wordplay that I just love dabbling in.

And lastly, summaries. Sometimes inspiration strikes me and a snappy and intriguing synopsis just jumps out—one that I’m quietly pleased with—but most of the time I’ll spend way too long trying to think of such a synopsis and eventually just go with whatever I’d come up with so far. And live with my quiet dissatisfaction for the rest of time.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (Plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations...?) Tell us about them!

Typically, no. If I have deleted scenes, I save and publish them separately, but that’s about it. I sometimes think of AUs for my own work and might talk about them in my author’s notes—might even talk about writing them—but I never really do anything with them.

Although…

It’s not uncommon for me to decide a plotline isn’t working for a certain story or to think of an interesting but undoable arc for a certain character, but what I’ll do is make a whole new story for those ideas. Once I’m done developing the original idea and the branched-off one, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell they grew from the same roots. Does that count?

21. What other medium do you think your story would work well as (film, webcomic, animated series, etc.)?

That depends on the story. I’ve actually written stories in other mediums—movie screenplay, musical stageplay, poetry, TV show scripts, play scripts, roleplay—but the novel does tend to be my comfort zone. Sometimes, if I have an idea that I think could work, or would even work better, as another medium, I’ll label it as such in my folder of ideas and decide not to write it as a novel.

Most of the time, my non-book projects are collaborations. I’m working with five different people on six different story ideas: two webcomics, one stage musical, one anime, and two animated TV shows. Little concrete progress has been made in any of those, mind you, but they’re still fun to discuss!

24. Would you say your writing has changed over time?

Absolutely. But I’ve been writing stories since I was five years old, so we would hope so, huh?

I wouldn’t say my writing’s changed completely, though maybe that’s just my insider’s perspective.

25. What part of writing is the most fun?

Oh gosh, I can’t believe you’d make me choose. Writing is just such a wonderful experience for me; I love just about everything to do with it. Admittedly, not all the time, but. Since that barely qualifies as an answer, however, I’ll give you this—

The endings. Not only that intense feeling of rightness when you wrap up that last sentence, but also the moments before. The adrenaline of knowing you’re almost there but you gotta push just a bit more to actually get there. And also the part right after—the real wrap-up, honestly: the revision and the editing. Heavens, I love revising and editing my work.

Which is not to say I don’t like writing it out for the first time, too—there’s nothing quite like seeing your cursor scroll to the next page, like going from a blank expanse to a Oh man, how many more lines are even going to fit on this page?, like watching that page counter tick up another number. However, there’s something cathartic about finally ironing out those problems I had to force myself to stop worrying about earlier because “just finish the first draft dangit”.

I guess that’s not really the end of the writing process, but whatever. Close enough (as fic writers are wont to say).

Another thank-you for these asks, and feel free to come back with more at any time! ;P

Send in fun meta asks for your friendly neighbourhood writer!

[littlemeowyoons]

Bonded

A/N- It’s my first time posting my writing on Tumblr but I guess better late than never huh, so here you go. More is in work so please anticipate a lot.

~Fay

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff(lots of them), a drop of angst, Single Dad! AU, College! AU, Introvert! Yoongi, Tutor! Y/n

Word Count:1.7k

Synopsis: Yoongi found a basket left in front of his dorm room one day, and turns out it was his daughter, left alone crying. Puzzled and scared was an understatement. When his 4 semesters roommate Jimin left for his hometown, he was left with the last straw of help, turning to his physics tutor a.k.a friend-that-I-only-know-name-but-have-no-interest-in-knowing-more ; you.

Series: Masterlist ll Part 2 lI Part 3

                                           Part 1: Distress

                                            °•. ✿ .•°

“Why own a fucking iPhone when you can’t even answer a fucking call?! Dammit!”, he breathed hard after his nth tempt to connect the line failed again, his own Samsung device was clutched tightly in hand, knuckles turning white from the pressure. Yoongi had reached that point where smashing the black covered device in hand to the wall was considered a bliss, but he was saint enough to convince himself otherwise. Not when his phone was his gateway out of this mess; the only way maybe. So he tried again; redialing the numbers, manually even.

 “I swear I’ll shred your trench coat to pieces, fucking im-“

The end of the line connected midway his constant ranting.

“Oh thank God above you finally answered! What took you so long?”

“Ever heard of Bio lecture Yoongi?”, the soft voice at the receiving end answers calmly, though Yoongi knew the person was beyond annoyed.

 Who wouldn’t? Multiple spam in all form of communication, texts, kakaotalk, Instagram dm; at this point, Yoongi wanted to settle down to those damn pigeons. Even Yoongi would be out of his head if it happen to him, not that it will happen in the near future or anything.

“Don’t outsmart me woman, I’m not in the mood.”

“What is it Yoongi? You know I have class at this time of the day”

“I need your help”, his breath came out breathless than ever.

“Fuck if you’re asking about the same kinetic and potential energy chapter, I’m gonna rip all my nonexistent and existent  hair out of my-“

“Please…”

                                        ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

You swear it took you everything not to scream out of frustration watching your phone blow off during lecture period. Plus, the same ID that keeps popping up on the lock screen adds the bitter taste. Once your professor said the word ‘thank-‘, you were already making your way out of the hall, books not even properly shoved in bag and you were sure you left your favourite baby blue Sharpie highlighter behind.

Once in the hallway, you yanked your phone out of your sling bag and slide the screen harshly, already embracing yourself for the upcoming questions and constant groaning. What you did not expect is the person on the other side panting heavily, desperate. Yoongi sounds…distress.You were still processing his jumbled words but once the word ‘please’ escaped his mouth, you froze.

That word is so rare to even pass-through Yoongi’s head, what less say it. The last time you remembered the word ever exist in his sentence, was the day he consulted you at the cafeteria. Head down, full frown and shoulder slumped was some few giveaway you could collect which equals to one thing; failed test.

You were used to people asking you questions, since you were one of the few alphas in curriculum areas. But having Yoongi, the junior of Art and Music Department, Majoring in Music Production asking you to be a full-time physics tutor is…well, unexpected. You pity him, that poor boy seems like he couldn’t breathe for goodness sake, not until you lean back to your metal seats and smile softly, not forgetting to nod along while you utter the word that Yoongi seems dread to hear, ‘Sure, when?’

You swear his eyes shine like a good measure 60 watts light bulb. But that was long time ago, you lost track how long it was though you were sure it won’t be more than a year now, hearing that Yoongi is in serious problem was the main pushover to your muscle cells.

The thing is Yoongi never beg, ever. He never sounds that desperate even when he got 5 per cent on his last two physics quiz, he never sounds this discomfort.

“I’ll be there in five”.

                                          ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ:⠀ ⋆.:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

You almost lost a footing while climbing the stairs up the boys’ dormitory, but you didn’t stall behind. Once room 103 is in front of you, you proceed to reach out to knock, when you heard an infant’s cry. You froze, chest rising in rapid beat from all the runnings.

“Yoongi?”

The crying was still there, you glance to check the neighbouring room number on the door, confirming that the room in front of you indeed belongs to Yoongi. So you crossed your heart and decided to knock, after all, you go with the concept YOLO. The door opened to reveal a hopelessly in despair Yoongi and a small woven basket on his dinner table, the moving mauve blanket shows that he wasn’t alone in the room, physically anyway.

Though the facts were right in front of your eyes, your mouth was sealed from emitting any word, what less sounds. You just stand there, at his doorstep, mouth agape. The cried were getting louder and the small tiny hands rising from the woven basket was doing nothing other than deepening the frown on Yoongi’s forehead.

“Come on Y/n, say something…”

Once his words registered in yourself, you took a last glance to Yoongi, before backing away into the hallway and sprint off.

“I need to go.”

“Y/n wait!”

No no no, this is bad. He thought Y/n would be different, thought she’ll understand but turns out, she ran away.

“Just…just like Hyoju.”, Yoongi whispers.

The cries from behind him gets louder and he snapped to look at the one sole thing that currently gives him a headache.

“Can you fucking shut it?!”

Yoongi growled but then retracted away from the dining table, against the wall and sliding down on his back until he reaches the floor. A sudden seed of fear bloom in his chest,

“What am I doing, am I already out of my mind? He’s just a baby, what does he even know?”, Yoongi sigh while standing and dragged himself to the basket, brushing along his slender fingers through the baby’s thin hair; his baby. The living being right in front of him is his own making, an act done without even considering about the effect. In this case, Yoongi can admit that he’s one of the few to be blame, maybe THE ONE to be blamed, fuck he was so drunk that night he can barely remember her, the mother of his child, Han Hyoju

The baby’s crying subsided a little as soon as Yoongi’s fingers make contact with the head, as if the touch of a 10-minutes-ago-newly known-father is proof that it’s safe for the little one.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do”, he whispered because it was a fact.

Yoongi was never a fan of kids, he was never a person-type, a typical signs of an introvert. His only source of never-ending help support is none other than his roommate, Dance Major Park Jimin. He helps Yoongi realize that age is just numbers, Yoongi; as a hyung, two years older, seeks more advice than he wants to admit. This whole two years living with Jimin, the topic of conversation never goes off if it didn’t start with Jimin encouraging Yoongi to get some sunlight on him to which Jimin always said, as Yoongi quoted “We don’t need a walking paperwhite corpse walking around campus, hyung. Go out and get some air would you?”.

 It’s just that Jimin’s happy go lucky trait as well as his naturally warm smile is enough to blooms a friendship unlike Yoongi, who people would just point fingers at and said ‘cold, harsh and rock dead’ just by a mere look. Jimin don’t, however. That’s how Yoongi opened up a little to him. But now, that said roommate can’t help him, being on the other side of Korea, back in Busan his hometown for four days(though Yoongi doubt he won’t prolong it) limits Yoongi to ask for any favour to his friend. The kid in front of him will die of thirst first if he waits for Jimin. That’s what left him to his other only friend; Y/L/N Y/N.

But Yoongi could understand what you did, how you act. It’s because both Yoongi and you didn’t share more than three sentences, or on some lucky days short bickering outside of your tutoring hour. He only knows the basic things for someone to be an acquaintance; name, major and room number(because it slipped your mouth once when texting your roommate), but other than that, zero-knowledge. Jimin insisted that he asked more, to what Yoongi always dismiss, he’s too shy or scared, or maybe both.

Though Yoongi knew so much, he still labels you as a friend, which means a name listed in his life whereabouts, significant enough for him, not a nobody. He wanted to smile thinking that you’re indeed a friend to him, but it falters upon remembering you retreated away.

“I’m doomed…”

A sudden burst of the door jolted Yoongi, retracting his hand that once was playing with the baby hairs on his child’s head. You walk in, head high and face determined. You dropped off your school bag by the sofa, the usual place when you hang around Yoongi’s room after tutor session. Yoongi was overwhelmed, all his senses went numb, why did you return?

“Yoongi, does the baby comes with a bag, a pouch, anything other than the basket?”, you already made your way into the kitchen, but Yoongi still got a perfect view of your side profile from where he’s standing.

“Umm-“, Yoongi snapped out of his short trance and reached out for the mustard yellow beg that was originally in the same basket as his child when he first opens his door this morning, “Is this it?”

You glance over to him and nod, motioning him to hand it over. Once the bag is in your hand, you unzip it and pull out a baby bottle. Yoongi just watched in awe as you mixed baby formula, Yoongi assumed the grey paper bag you brought with you contained the powder formulae. He knows he shouldn’t be gawking like that, but he’s completely amazed, the fact that you came back had him racked his brain for a reason why, and now you’re going through all of this just to feed his kid. He felt small. Once the formula milk was done, you walked towards the living room and straight to the dining table, where the baby is. The red face of the baby shows just how long it had been crying.

‘Poor thing.’,  you thought. You put down the baby bottle on the table, hands reached out to swoop out the crying baby and puts the nuzzle near the mouth. After some effort, the baby takes in the nuzzle into his mouth and right away the rooms fell into a deep silence.

“Aww you poor thing, starving huh? It’s okay it’s okay. I got you.”,  you cooed.

Yoongi stood there dumbly, watching you feeding his own child, still confused but for sure, extremely grateful. Now if only explaining is easy enough.

[littlelonghairedoutlawllho]

Re: make our sun stand still -- honestly at this point, these stories are so far removed from POTO how is it even fanfiction anymore? You should write original fiction. Also, your "historically detailed author's note": "sorelli's own TB is left intentionally vague" -- if you can't put that across as a writer, go back and re-work it. "FFN character limit should be abolished for my summary" -- a summary has to be tight. If you can't do it in like 3 sentences, it isn't a summary, is it?

I had a few initial responses to this, ranging from bleary-eyed comprehension at half six in the morning to intense anxiety, something that resembled a bitter laugh, and a brief flare of anger that was mercifully short.

Also, oddly, relief.

Anon, I’ve been expecting this message for some time. I expected it last week, with my Philippe/Sorelli stories, I expected it with the Tinder ‘verse, and with love-light, and the Delta stories, and Digging Up Bones, and a host of other times that it never came. That it has come now has caused me to step back and wonder, why? I’ve been expecting it for so long that I expected it with Soft Place to Fall almost through second-nature. I did get one very like this, last year, with Running Through the Rain, and it contributed to a night of alcohol poisoning that I have no desire to remember.

Anon, what is the definition of fanfiction? It is fan generated content about a set of characters created by somebody else. Anon, what is the definition of an alternate universe? The taking of those characters and placing them in a world different to their own.

Every act of fic writing creates an AU, no matter how closely the writer adheres to canon, because every act of fic writing creates a story already fundamentally different to canon.

Anon, what is the definition of PotO fanfiction?

A fan-generated piece of content about characters originating in Phantom of the Opera. Last I checked those were the origins of Sorelli. I simply imagined how she might be in a different set of circumstances. Admittedly a very different set of circumstances, but she is Sorelli nonetheless.

The prompt I received, that led to the creation of this fic, called simply for something featuring Christine, Sorelli, time travel, and mutual pining. There was no compunction on me to set the fic in the canon era. I freely admit canon-era France is something I know a very limited amount about. I am a historian, but that setting is not my area of research.

I do write original fiction. I’ve had a story broadcast nationally and it is available online and I have spoken about it here in the past. I’ve had scraps of poetry published. I am working on the third draft of a novel. None of that means that I can’t also write fic. None of that means that I can’t take someone else’s characters and set them in a wildly different world.

I can, and I will, and I have.

If you don’t like it you don’t have to read it. The evidence is that you have read it because you quote from my own author’s note. That particular line, about the source of Sorelli’s own tuberculosis, exists because I know some readers would like a clear-cut answer on it. The body of the fic itself provides no less than three potential sources of infection. Tuberculosis was endemic in the Ireland of the 1920s, and the 1930s, and the 1940s, and before. 60,000 people died of the disease in the approximate period of 1932-1947, a period when the total population barely reached 3 million, and those fatality figures likely are only a partial picture, due the stigma around the disease, the reluctance to put it down as cause of death on a death certificate, and the multiplicity of atypical presentations of it. Even the three sources of infection I provide may not be the one that caused it in this one (fictional) case.

The fic itself has all of the historical details and explanations it needs. The author’s note simply provides some additional context, because I for one like when a historically-based fic does that. I am a historian, a historian of medicine as well as of politics and agriculture, and this is my failing. I can delete the note if you want, but I don’t think it would make you happy.

You also grossly overstate my comment on the FFN summary character limit. The actual comment was “summarising something like this is a bitch and frankly the FFN character limit should be abolished.” It was written in response to circumstance — I wrote the summary for the fic on AO3, attempted to copy and paste it into the box on FFN, and had to cut it down to make it fit. That does not inherently change the content of either the fic or the summary, it purely impacted the flow and readability of the summary. Personally, I prefer when cross-posted fics have the same summary on multiple sites and when it somewhat reflects the tone of the story. It is a simple matter of taste and prevents so much confusion. I frequently find FFN an unwieldy site — and have mentioned this on a number of occasions in the past — and for a fic like this the tagging system on AO3 works so much better than a mere summary and two restrictive genre tags. But again, that is a matter of taste.

And when was the last time you read a novel — or a historical text — summarized in less than three sentences? Three very short sentences at that.

But to return to the matter of fanfiction, and what defines it. PotO is, quite frankly, the most conservative fandom I’ve ever been in, AU-wise. In fact in most regards. Have you ever searched through the multiplicity of AUs available for things like Sherlock or Wynonna Earp or Harry Potter on AO3? In the case of Harry Potter, a huge amount of them don’t even involve magic. There are historical AUs of every shape and form, including westerns, including war stories. They are all as entitled to being called fanfiction as something that strictly adheres to the most obvious senses of the word.

‘make our sun stand still’ would not work at all as a piece of original fiction. That is one extremely obvious fact about it, even setting aside details. The very means of the time travel in the story — to be explored further through Christine’s perspective — are derived from The Time Traveler’s Wife, and I will be citing that. There are a number of other things that I would not have felt comfortable including if it had been an original piece. All of those changes would result in a wildly different story, and frankly I believe something would be lost by implementing those changes, and not merely my own self-indulgent enjoyment of it.

Just because it doesn’t look like your typical piece of PotO fic does not mean it cannot exist as PotO fic. I freely admit my stories are not for everyone. I have not adhered to the most common principles of PotO fic in more than two years. Possibly I’ve only adhered to it a handful of times in the last four years. I have posted 197 PotO fics (a total of 641,241 words, 77.4% of my entire fic output), and that is not fully reflective of the 48 one-shots contained in the Fragmentations collection, or the host of one-shots and snippets posted here that never made it to fic sites. If we were limited to the most doctrinaire conception of PotO fic, a good 90% of my fics would not exist. Possibly only 10 would exist, possibly only 5. Possibly none and would that make you happy? And if so, perhaps you ought to wonder why.

But it’s not just me. Should every fic writer adhere to the most doctrinaire conception of it, all originality in fic would be lost. Fic is an incredibly innovative and fertile literary field. It feeds into itself in a self-sustaining loop. The fic read for one fandom influences the fic written and enjoyed in another fandom. The backgrounds of the fic writers themselves inform the fics they write — not just setting and speech and sexuality, but a variety of other things too. If I were not a historian, most of my fics would not exist. If I were not a farmer, they would not exist either. If I were not Irish, there are at least 70,000 words of fic that would not exist. If I were not a queer woman, I likely would never have started writing fic at all.

We cannot wholly divorce a fic from the person writing it, and nor should we, just as we cannot wholly divorce it from its canon. And no matter how full a fic is of original elements, it remains a fic, because some if not all of the characters will have been sourced from somebody else’s work. They may have a different accent and a different background and a different skin colour and a different taste in romantic and sexual partners, but there will always be that seed of them that came from canon. So if it’s called fic and it’s posted to a fic site, chances are it works better as fic than as an original work.

So perhaps, Anon, you ought to take a step back, and reflect a little, and look around you, before you wander into my inbox. Chances are I’ve already asked myself the questions you’re posing, and formed a conclusion, and with the information I have access to about myself and my work those conclusions are not going to change just because you couldn’t allow yourself to think outside the box.

[canardroublard]

TMFU, Gaby’s fashion, and some feminist film analysis

Back when I slapped together a reblog post about the men’s fashion in The Man From UNCLE in between physio appointments, which somehow got like way more notes than I ever really expected or even wanted, I didn’t address the fashion of the lead female character, Gaby. It was outside the scope of the OP, and I didn’t feel like I had anything new or interesting to say about Gaby’s fashion, or lack thereof.

(My beta says those earrings are the ugliest thing ever. I disagree. It’s a wonder we’re still friends)

Anyways, we see only one brief scene of Gaby in her own street clothes, and a slightly longer sequence of her in her work clothes. The rest of the film, she is wearing clothes chosen for her by Illya. Saying “we just don’t have enough info” is a perfectly reasonable approach to this. So this was the other reason I had no intention of making this post.

But then people started getting interested. Someone reblogged commenting about Gaby’s fashion, and I discovered that I have very strong opinions about something I’d previously claimed was unknowable, and it made me wonder what was going on in my brain.

Then I talked to some other TMFU friends who all seemed interested in what I assumed was common knowledge/nothing unique. So, they may have been feigning interest out of politeness, but it activated the art history side of my brain, and here we are now!

The boring stuff but please read this

I am not attempting to tell anyone how to interpret this film. I am not even trying to change people’s minds or persuade them to my thinking. All I am doing is sharing my thought process. I wasn’t even going to do this for Gaby until people asked. To this end, please don’t attempt to argue with me about this. I don’t want to argue. I won’t respond to it. If you disagree, then please, just move along.

And I’m going to remind people that I love TMFU. I love this movie so much it hurts. Why am I putting this reminder here? Because I am about to apply some critical analysis to it, and in places this will be cynical, and it will not always look kindly on the film. If you just want to exist in a happy “I love TMFU!” bubble and not hear anything less than 100% positive about the film (which is a totally valid choice, I don’t fault anyone for that), then don’t read. But don’t yell at me for being mean or criticizing the film, because I warned you.

Tldr; or, if I were still being graded for this stuff here’s my thesis statement

When analysing Gaby’s fashion, there exist considerations which don’t apply to the male characters. Namely, she is a woman and the male gaze is a thing. So I am very, very wary about taking at  face value any expressions of traditional femininity in the choices made  for her outfits, hair, makeup, etc. Therefore, when considering her character, I find it much more useful and informative to give more weight to the aspects of her appearance which do not connote traditional femininity, rather than those that do.

For readers who have studied enough  media analysis to follow my thought based on that alone, there’s the thesis statement, y’all can go home (or at least skip to the end where I come to a conclusion). If you’re lost, then read on.

(mobile readers, the cut here might not work, and if so I apologize for what is going to be a very long post. Tumblr’s “keep reading” functionality is inconsistent at best, but I tried)

Context is for kings essential for analysing media in a meaningful way

(Or, some brief background. Stick with me here, we’ll get to the good stuff soon)

So, art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Attempting to analyze any artwork (in this case a film) while disregarding the culture it was created in and the intentions of the creator is...not going to get you very far. Asking “what is art” is a question that quite frankly exhausts me at this point (looking at you, Duchamp) but the closest I’ve ever come to an answer is that the only thing that separates art from everything else is intent. And intention only exists within cultural context. So yes, intent and context don’t just matter peripherally, they are one of the biggest considerations one needs to make when analyzing works of art. The creator in this case being Guy Ritchie et al, the culture being British/American Popular Cinema in The Year of Somebody’s Lord Two-Thousand-And-Fifteen. 

Everyone views and creates (if applicable) art through their own distorted, murky, imperfect lens of personal experience. And one of the most persistent Things in western art is that cishet men create art based on their experience of Being A Dude. This is crucial, because this lens of cishet male perspective literally underpins almost all of western culture including popular culture. And thanks to feminist film theorist Laura Mulvey, we have a name for this.

The male gaze and you

I’m going to quote Wikipedia here, because honestly this intro sentence sums things up rather neatly (with one exception which I will address momentarily).

In feminist theory, the male gaze is the act of depicting women and the world, in the visual arts and literature, from a masculine, heterosexual perspective that presents and represents women as sexual objects for the pleasure of the male viewer.

What does that all mean? That the Viewer and the Artist are both cishet men by default, and any women are Subjects of art. Women are viewed, never viewers. Men take action, women are subjected to actions. Furthermore, women are supposed to be pleasurable to view. By men. Since the Viewer is male by default.

But I would disagree that the pleasure is inherently based on women being sexual objects. That’s honestly a really damn limited read on the whole theory, and it’s one that Wikipedia itself contradicts later in the article. More broadly, cis men also derive other forms of pleasure from the presentation and viewing of female bodies, including aesthetic pleasure (the enjoyment of looking at beautiful things).

The theory of the male gaze is not without limits. As originally theorized, afaik it’s not particularly intersectional. It doesn’t really address queer perspectives or perspectives of POC. However, these issues are something I just can’t address here, unfortunately. And when looking at popular media, I still find the concept of the male gaze, imperfect as it may be, is a helpful means of analysis, so it’s worth having in your toolbox.

Circling back, the easiest way to sum up the male gaze, if you’re still not super clear on what it is, is with a demonstration.

Ever seen a shot like this in a movie?

And did you immediately roll your eyes? Feel gross? Congrats, you have just perceived and reacted to the male gaze.

Now we actually get back to TMFU

But the male gaze also shows up in many more subtle, insidious ways than fanservice-y boob shots. For this post, let’s focus on the following considerations, which might help everyone follow my thought process more clearly.

Gaby is a woman

She functions as the love interest of Illya in the script (I am not talking from a shipping perspective. What you ship does not matter for this discussion. I am talking about the narrative function of Gaby in the script as written. Put on your “cishet man” goggles for a moment)

Illya is a man who is attracted to women, specifically Gaby (again, I don’t care if your shipping conflicts with this. I am analyzing the film based on a literal reading of it as if I were a cishet man. Why? Because that’s who made the film. That’s who it’s “for”. I am all for queer readings of film--hell, I ship OT3, I myself have chosen a queer reading for how I interact with it, but I’m not critiquing people’s readings, I’m critiquing the film itself and to do that I have to critique its intentions and cultural context.)

Cishet men are traditionally only allowed to be attracted to women who are conventionally attractive. If they were to be attracted to anyone else it would destroy their fragile senses of self and their heads would explode or something. At least I assume that’s what must happen, based on how terrified they are of it.

Therefore, Gaby must be conventionally attractive, because it is literally required of her or otherwise the whole underpinning of western straight malehood crumbles and then where would we get such a pure, vast source of unadulterated toxic masculinity?

(Yes, this is a very cynical read on things. I’ve studied, like, three centuries worth of this bullshit. I’m tired. Let me be cynical.)

Or, to force myself to be less cynical, Gaby has to be pretty because...nope, this is still going to turn out just as cynical.

But what I will say in favour of this movie is that it gives Gaby and Victoria both a lot of agency and general awesomeness, which is quite unusual in this sort of big-budget action film, and it’s one of the big reasons I love it. I’m not saying that the entire film is sexist. On the contrary, there’s a ton of stuff to celebrate about how it portrays its female characters. But these aspects don’t change the cultural context, and we still have to consider the impacts of the male gaze.

Anyways, point being is that as filtered through the male gaze, Gaby is never given the option to, say, wear no makeup (or the appearance of such, as the guys are afforded, this being cinema where “no makeup” still means makeup) because that would look “ugly”.  Instead she needs to have a “baseline of pretty” which is way higher than reality because she is not a real human being with her own agency, she is a character created by a cis male writer/director team in a film directed by a cis man in a genre that caters to cishet men.

Gaby doesn’t exist in a vacuum. She exists battling centuries and centuries worth of sexist convention.

Now then, remembering all of that, let’s actually look at her. There are woefully few good pictures so I’m going to have to piece things together a little. Starting with the coveralls.

This is a great look, I love it. And I’m going to give Ritchie a lot of credit here because it would’ve been easy to go for a “Michelle Rodriguez in F&F sexy mechanic lady” look. In case I need to provide a visual:

(Repeat above gif about rolling my eyes)

Now, to be clear, I am not making any judgement about the way any real-life women dress. I’m sure there’s plenty of female mechanics who have their hair down and wear tank tops while working. That doesn’t bother me. I don’t care if real life mechanics choose to do their jobs in a string bikini. Or in cosplay of the bee from Bee Movie. I don’t care (and quite frankly it’s none of my business) because they are real people who can make their own decisions. But what I am talking about here is a fictional character who does not have her own agency. I am critiquing how male creators choose to dress their female characters.

So I personally choose to read much more into the unpretty  aspects of Gaby’s outfit, because these are not the “obvious” or “easy”   things. Obvious and easy are “of course she wears makeup” and “of course her hair looks good” and  “of course she doesn’t look like a swamp witch  who bathes in mud and spends her days cursing passing men”. Those things don’t challenge or disrupt the assumption that women must look attractive for male consumption.

Gaby’s introduction to us is with her in a pair of grease-stained, baggy coveralls, not wearing any obvious makeup (again, this is cinema, so she is wearing makeup. For cinema the goal posts around “wearing makeup” always need to be moved from where they’d be irl). There’s very little here that screams ‘pretty’. And that is fascinating to me.

I don’t know how deeply Ritchie thought this through when giving final approval to the costume, hair and makeup. But unpretty is not the default here. It’s a choice

And look at this. This is the stance and dress sense (and socks!) of a woman who does not give a damn about looking good for the male gaze, whether the in-movie gaze of Napoleon, or the implied gaze of the viewer and creator. It’s not ‘pretty’. And this is the only time in the film we see Gaby in her own everyday clothes, as she only escapes East Berlin with the literal clothes on her back.

So how do I think Gaby dresses? I think that for the most part she dresses....like this. Practical. Comfortable. With a few simple touches of things she likes/finds pretty, perhaps, but not with a specific interest in being pretty. She dresses for herself, not for others. And if that isn’t something to aspire to, I don’t know what is.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hi. I saw a post today comparing God to an abusive father/husband. I can’t get this out of my head. Is he? I feel in my heart that he truly loves every one of his children but I can’t explain how.

cw discussion of general abuse and abusive tactics

Hey there, dear.

I’m going to start by saying that this is a really hard topic, and I’m not sure I can answer in a way that is super helpful. But above all this I can say this: in my experience God is not an abuser. God is not an abuser, because being caught in an abusive relationship brings fear and guilt and exhaustion and hopelessness, while in my relationship with God I find freedom from those feelings – I find energy and joy and hope.The huge issue is that many people do feel fearful and guilty and hopeless when trying to pursue God, because they’ve fallen into what churches have told them God is and says and expects. God is not abusive – but so many churches paint God as an abuser, and are abusive themselves. How can we rethink our language and visions of God in our pursuit of the true God, the God of love and justice, the God of the oppressed and the forgotten?

I’ve seen that post going around too, and it also hurts me. On the one hand, I get where the post is coming from – from church hurt turned into disgust, from pain into anger. And that anger is well founded. The quotes in the post are messages about God that are too often spread in our culture, the understandings of God promoted by so many of our churches, so it makes sense that the post attributes those quotes to God.

I am not going to link that post because I don’t really want to spread it around more, but I’ll address some of the quotes on it that are attributed to God.

“You’re a terrible person, and you need me to do better.”

God does not call us terrible! God calls us Good – right from the start! (Genesis 1:31)

That being said, I think it’s pretty clear from looking around us that humans are flawed creatures, capable of vast cruelty. God does long to guide us into a better way of living. 

I personally do believe that we need God, as God is the source of life itself, and that God can help us do better. However, God does not threaten us to get us into that relationship – on the contrary, God has gifted us with free will for the very purpose of allowing us to choose whether or not we will seek a relationship with God. Love is not love when it is forced – and God longs for us to love Them, a true and healthy, mutual and fruitful love.

I imagine any abuser would jump on the chance to force their victim to love and obey them. God gives us free will so that love and obedience cannot be forced on us.

“You don’t deserve me.”

I can’t think of anywhere in scripture where God claims that. Certain churches do all the time – that we don’t deserve God’s love. And honestly, I feel that way sometimes – that I’m so flawed and messed up that I am not worthy of God – but I’ve never felt like God has made me feel that way. 

Instead, God makes me feel loved, not despised: “You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you” (Isaiah 43:4)

Still, if one believes in an all-good God, one might consider that in some ways it is true that we don’t “deserve” God. But in the words of Wonder Woman, “it’s not about deserve” – it’s about love!

We do not need to earn God’s love the way abusers force their victims to try futilely to earn their love or respect. God gives Their love and all other good things to us completely freely:

“Freely you have received; so freely give” (Matthew 10:8). 

“Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you” (John 14:27)

But if any of you lacks wisdom, let them ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to them” (James 1:5)

It’s so easy in any relationship where you feel lucky to have the person to look at all your shortcomings and think “crap. I don’t deserve this.” But it doesn’t matter – if someone really loves you, as God loves us, it’s not about “deserve.” The love is given freely and mutually. 

“If you even think about leaving me…”

This one in particular really makes my heart ache, because fear has poisoned faith for so many people I love.

Too many churches use fear as a weapon to keep people in their pews – they claim that if you leave them you’re leaving God and leaving God = automatic sentence to hell, automatic suffering. Go and God will punish you; go and you can never come back.

There’s a twitter thread by Mandy Nicole that talks about their experience leaving a church that taught them that their church was the one safe haven loved by God, that everyone outside is dangerous and bad and going to hell. Churches like that isolate their members, use fear to keep them from leaving – that is abuse. God does not desire that from us.

We see in the story of the “prodigal son” that if we leave God, we can always come back. The father in the story lets his son go with his blessing even while hoping for his return. Thus so, God welcomes us back with open arms, without any “I told you so” or anger.

Christianity should never be based in fear but in love! If someone is trying to convince you that God is just waiting for the chance to punish you, that God will shove your ass in hell if you do wrong by Them….they are not preaching the Good News. 

“Don’t listen to anyone who doesn’t understand what we have.”

Nah, friend. Engage in discussion about religion with people of diverse backgrounds! Ask God all the questions that are on your mind, and wrestle with those questions in the company of other people. God is cool with us asking questions. And exploring faith with people of diverse faiths can help us get to know God and ourselves better – see my #pluralism tag. 

“You’ll never find anyone as good as me.”

Okay, so, by my belief that is technically true. God is….God. But God does not isolate us with sayings like this – does not block us off from relationships with others, from finding joy and fulfillment with others. In fact, to form a relationship with God is to form a relationship with all the rest of humanity and even with all of Creation!

A hallmark of abuse is isolation, and God does the opposite of isolate us – we are called to break down walls and be bold and love one another and fight for the oppressed! 

God is Themself a Trinity – Their very existence is a relationship. Thus we who are in God’s image are made for relationship. God does not call us to isolate ourselves from everyone else and be in relationship only with them, but rather to go out and serve and love everyone we encounter. 

See my #community tag for more on this idea that you can’t worship God in a vacuum, that you can’t be Christian in isolation, that God calls us to radical relationship with all people and all Creation.

I also want to mention something tentatively, and I welcome correction here: I think that some language that is a major red flag when it comes from another human being makes sense when referring to God. One of the other quotes on the post is “I know best” and when it comes to God, I think that’s true. Even so, God invites our questions as I mention above, God invites our input and does not use this “knowing best” to deny our free will. 

Another one I can think of is the idea of the “inescapable God.” I have always loved Psalm 139, which describes how God is everywhere we could possibly go (“Where can I hide from your presence? Where can I flee from your face?”). It was only earlier this year when discussing it with classmates that I learned that some people are extremely uncomfortable with that idea of a God they cannot get away from. After thinking about it I completely understand why – the concept of not being able to escape someone is horrible; there should be no human being from whom we cannot get away. But God’s constant presence is simply an aspect of God’s Being – God exists as an all-present deity. But even this inescapable nature of God is different from when a human being tries to be inescapable (a mark of an abuser): God does not pressure us to acknowledge Their presence, and God is not present to catch you doing something wrong or to make you feel trapped or to monitor your interactions with others.

When the language we use for God and the ways we talk about God lead to people feeling helpless, abused, fearful, or guilty – we need to stop and reconsider that language. 

God is the Great Liberator. God calls us Good; God empowers us to do good; God respects our free will. Let us seek new ways to talk about God that speak to this truth, asking the Holy Spirit for guidance as we do so. 

I’ll close with part of a passage from Shirley Guthrie’s Christian Doctrine in which he addresses the concept of the abusive God (full quote here):

“God the great heavenly (male) Tyrant is also dead – the ‘sovereign’ god who could do anything he wanted to and proved it by arbitrarily being sometimes cruel and sometimes kind, loving some people and hating or simply ignoring others, according to the whim of the moment. The god who sneaked around spying on us, trying to catch us doing something bad so he could get us. …That god is dead. We may rejoice and be thankful that he too was never alive.

Which god is dead? All the gods that were really nothing but a projection of our own fears, wishes, insecurity, greed, or speculation. All the gods made in our own image. If talk about the death of God in our time exposes our idols and their inadequacy, we may welcome it. The quicker we bury and forget the gods we make for ourselves, the quicker we can learn who God really is.”

[joylee56]

Leaving to Spend More Time With His Family

For Fluffapalooza

Happy Skin Deep Anniversary

“Belle,”  Mrs Lucas shouted across the newsroom.  “Get your butt over here.”

Saving her story notes, Belle grabbed a notebook and headed toward the conference room.  'Granny' Lucas had been working the Congressional and National news beat since her days as a runner during the Nixon era.  Now editor, she tolerated fools badly, reporters who did not nail down their facts not at all, and regarded typos as the work of the devil.

As Belle always got her sources on the record, was good at grammar and made a point of running the spell checker twice, she and Granny got a long very well. Sidney Glass, who had just spent half an hour in conference with Granny and Mulan Fa, one of their investigative reporters, was not so fortunate.  

Belle had little sympathy for Sidney.  He was enraptured with Regina Mills, a high level Republican political consultant.  Which led to him accepting her statements unreservedly.  Not to mention he seemed never to have learned the difference between there, their and they're.

“Two weeks Sidney's been working on why Rumford Gold is stepping down as Senator Blanchard-Nolan's chief political adviser and this is what he turns in.”  Granny tossed some pages at Belle.

Skimming the story it was easy to see why Granny was upset.  It looked like Sidney had simply listed every scandal that might cause a political adviser to quit as possible alternatives without having anything to back up any of them aside from some snide suggestions from an 'anonymous' source who was clearly Regina Mills.  “Well, you can rule out going to work for her opponent.  Aside from the fact that he's been with Mary Margaret since her days on the Storybrooke School Board, nobody I've talked to has heard so much as a rumor about him going to work for another politician let alone that idiot running against her.  And a couple of lobbying firms apparently tried headhunting him and got turned down flat.

“Also I don't buy a sex scandal at all.”  Belle snorted.  “He's divorced.  No reason for anybody to care who he's sleeping with.”

“He's not sleeping with anybody.”  Mulan put in.  “That was the first thing I checked.  If it weren't for the way he flirts with you, I'd guess he was asexual.  But apparently he's just celibate.”

“We do not flirt!” Belle denied.  Did they?  They bantered.  Each trying to get the upper hand.  But that was just been part of the job.  

“Oh, please. There have been press briefings where the rest of us have been ready to take up a collection to get the two of you a room.”  Mulan rolled her eyes.

“We had a completely professional relationship.”  Belle told her primly. Admittedly bantering with Rum was frequently the high point of her week.  Still it was part of her job.

But there was no rule that you could not enjoy your work, right?

“Still you know him better than anyone else.”  Granny told her.  “Which is why you're taking over this story.  At the very least I want an interview with him to find out the official story.  A more in depth explanation than Senator Blanchard-Nolan's office's two sentence 'leaving to spend more time with his family, he will be missed' folderol.  Even they couldn't deliver that one with a straight face.”

“Good luck finding Gold.”  Sidney told her before stalking off to sulk. “Blanchard-Nolan's office refuses to give out any contact information for him.  And one of my sources says he's left the country.”

Mulan was at least willing to share her notes.  “It was one of <i>my</i> sources that spotted him leaving the country.  He was getting on a flight to Heathrow.  But he came back after a couple of days.  Since he's British that kind of backs up the 'spend more time with his family' excuse.  You don't suppose it's actually true for once do you?”  

“More likely he was visiting his kid.”  Belle told her.  “His ex moves around a lot, but she's British too.”

Contacting Gold proved trickery than she expected.  Mary Margaret’s office manager was apologetic, but firm.  “I'm sorry, Belle.  We have to protect Gold's privacy.  I just can't hand out his private information.  I'll pass along your message if he calls in, but we don't expect to hear from him this week.”

She did have Gold's personal cell number.  He had called her from it a couple of times. But she had learned from the comments by some other reporters that Gold did not normally give out his personal number.  Making her reluctant to take advantage of the information,

Still if he no longer had a work number this was the only way to contact him. That should make it alright shouldn't it?

She deliberately did not think about what it meant that he was willing to give her information about how to reach him outside of work when he apparently jealously guarded it from others.  

Still he did not seem put out when she called.  “What can I do for you, Belle?”

“Can't I just check up on an old friend?”  Oh, dear God.  Mulan was right.  She did flirt with him.

Which he clearly did not mind in the least.  “You can, but as you must be on deadline right now, I can't imagine that's the case.”

“My editor would like an interview with you.  The usual.  Why you left.  What you're planning to do now.  That sort of thing.”  

He sighed.  “I suppose better you than Sidney.  Or worse Fox News.  I've a full schedule today.  But I'll have some time to talk this afternoon if you can meet me.”

The address he gave her was in Chevy Chase.  A park in an up scale suburb.  The sort of place young professional families moved to raise their kids.  She located him in the bleachers overlooking the soccer field.

Sitting down next to him she asked.  “So who are we rooting for?”

“The Bears.”  He waved toward the left hand side of the field.  “They're in brown and yellow.”

That did not help a great deal.  To Belle's eye the children all appeared to be wearing either dark muddy clothes or slightly lighter muddy clothes.  “They look more like cubs than bears.”

“Aye.”  Gold chuckled.  “At this age they're lucky to remember which goal is which.  But they're having a good time which is the whole point of the exercise.”

This was much more laid back attitude than most parents of Belle's acquaintance.  Then again a children's soccer game was pretty small change compared to the level Gold usually played at.

“So why is your editor so interest in my future that you felt you had to hunt me down in the wilds of Maryland, Belle?”  Gold glanced her way but kept an eye on the players.  

Or rather a player. A small slight boy who's dark curls had long since lost any semblance of order.

Suddenly Belle was pretty sure she had the answer to the puzzle.  “He's older than in the picture on your desk.”

“I've gotten a new picture for my new office.”  Gold chuckled.  

“And where is this new office?”

“George Washington University.”  Gold leaned back on the bleacher seat behind them. “I'm going to be lecturing on Public Affairs and Campaign Finance Law.  Possibly overseeing some of the law students in some pro bono appellate work if I can shake someone down for a grant.”

“That shouldn't be a problem for you.” Not after all the campaign fund raising he had done.  “Is the small forward out there the reason for this sudden move to academia?”

“Aye.”  Gold nodded toward the boy.  “His Mum got a position with a documentary company.  She and her boyfriend are going to be traveling all over world.  Her 'dream job'.  Called me out of the blue three weeks ago and informed me I needed to pick the boy before they left for Aleppo.”

“So you dropped everything and dashed off to Maryland.”  

“I dashed off to London.”  He corrected her.  “I brought the boy back to Maryland. There's a good school here set up along the lines of the one he was going to in London and the house I found is an easy commute to GWU. He seems to be settling in alright.  So far he misses his nanny more than his Mum.  I signed him up for this football club in the hopes he'd make some friends.”

“Can I have this on the record?  That you're stepping down as Senator Blanchard-Nolan's chief political adviser to become a soccer Dad?” Sidney was going to blow a gasket when he found out his big political scandal was not only not a scandal but had no political implications what so ever.

Gold shrugged. “Mary Margaret was understanding.  I can't work sixty hours a week and look after a seven year old.  And with her as chair of the DSCC next year the hours will only get longer.

“If you're looking for a story,”  He added,  “It looks like they're going to hire Mallory Drake to replace me.”

“I'll be sure to include that.”  Belle made a note.  “But the story I'm working on is why you left Senator Blanchard-Nolan's staff.  You're at the top of your game.  Rumor is that Mary Margaret may be running for President in 2020.  You could hire a nanny like your ex did to look after...”

“Baden.”  Gold supplied.  “I could.  But why should I?  Political advisers are thick on the ground in this town.  Bae only has one Papa.

“And I only have one son.  It'd be different if I had to work those kind of hours to feed us, but I don't.  So I'm just going to enjoy being Bae's Papa for a while.  Milah got full custody because of the hours I worked. I've got a second chance with my boy.  I'm going to take full advantage.”

That was going to make a wonderful quote.  “I'm happy for you.  But I'm going to miss our sparing sessions.”

“So am I.”  Gold glanced her way.  “Uhm, it occurred to me after I took this new job that there isn't much chance of any conflict of interests coming up between a reporter and a University lecturer.”

Belle closed her notebook.  “You're right.  That does seem unlikely.”

“So there wouldn't be anything inappropriate if we were to have dinner together sometime.”  

“Not a thing.” She agreed.  “If you were to need a sitter, my editor's granddaughter, Ruby, has experience and might just be a student of yours.  She goes to George Washington.”

“I will make a point to look her up.”  Gold nodded.  “Soon.”

The game was wrapping up and the little boy ran over to the bleachers.  “Did you see my shot, Papa?  I was the only one to almost get it in the goal.”

“I did.  Very well done.”  Gold told him.

The boy had kicked the ball pretty much right into the arms of the goalkeeper.  Since none of his teammates had managed to actually kick the ball into the goal area though he had a right to be pleased with himself.  Belle had to smile at his enthusiasm.

“Ah, Belle, this mud-ball is my son Baden.”  Gold introduced the boy.  “Baden this is a friend of mine, Belle French.  She's a reporter.”

“It's nice to meet you, Ms. French.”  Baden held out a grubby hand.  Belle took it anyway.  He was just too cute not to.  “Are you writing a story about Papa?”

“I am.”  Belle told him.  “Everyone wants to know about your Papa's new job.”

“He's going to teach people to be lawyers so they can help people.”  Baden explained to her.

“He was just telling me about it.”  Belle said.  “It sounds very interesting.”

“We're going to get hamburgers.  Do you like hamburgers?  You should come with us and Papa can help you more with your story.”  Baden was bouncing up and down.

“Belle may have other things she needs to do.”  Gold cautioned his son.

“I don't actually.” Belle smiled at him.  “And you were just talking about getting together for dinner.”

“I was thinking in terms of something a little more impressive than Five Guys.” Despite his grumbling Gold smiled back at her.

“As it happens I love hamburgers.”  Her grin got larger.

“And milkshakes. You have to buy her a milkshake, Papa.”  Baden instructed.  Then he added in a failed attempt at a whisper,  “Girls like it when you buy them a drink.”

“I'm an ice tea girl, myself.”  Belle told him.

“Then ice tea it shall be.”  Gold offered her his arm as they set off toward the car park.