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phoenix-fell · 2 years ago

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Anti-Bumbleby criticisms answered with BB analysis - Big post

As expected, as Bumbleby gets more attention from the show, the anti-BB crowd have surfed in on their tidal wave of bitter lemons. So, I’d like to put my degree, job and training to use and compile my thoughts down in one place - a one-stop shop if you will - it’s long and will be largely unfiltered as I tackle the weirdest and most common criticisms and BB analysis. (I kinda miss Bumbleby analysis Megaposts, I might make one sometime to go alongside this as a point of reference as most I’ve seen end around Vol 6).

TIA for anyone who actually takes the time to read my ramblings and please feel free to give your thoughts/analysis and I’ll edit it in. FIRST EDIT - 8th Mar 2023 presenting labels and sexuality in Remnant - 4th from end.

Credentials: Double major 1st class grad in Literature and Creative Writing, specialising in fairy tales and WLW representation in media. Recipient of dissertation award exploring character psyche and the presentation of psychological themes. Literary critic, writer and content specialist.

Let’s start off with a cracker from Reddit!

“Why couldn’t the BB scenes be more of a background thing? Why do they need to focus on them like they’re a main plot or something?”

Is... Is it stuffy under all that homophobia? I could easily rhyme off a string of sarcastic quips like ‘gee, I wonder why, it’s almost like it’s important to the development of two of the main characters or something.’ But it’s so lost on some people that I’mma spell it out:

We’ve seen Blake and Yang’s trauma painted across the screen from ‘Burning the Candle’ when Yang first confesses her abandonment issues, to the White Fang / Adam arcs that gave us a picture of the abuse Blake has endured - not just as a Faunus, but from her partner (“Adam used to get into my head, make me feel small.”), right through to their separation that dealt with their respective issues with running away/being abandoned and the shared trauma which has tied them both together indefinitely. They’ve been apart, they’ve repaired their relationship, they’ve grown together. In a current volume that’s so inherently focused on character’s individual development, seeing Blake and Yang together was almost inevitable as they’ve been so completely involved in one another’s development throughout the entire series. This is without going into their fairy tale allusions that tie them together which I’ll go into further down or the references to Yin/Yang and numerous romantic tropes that show how integral they are to one another’s characters. Contrary to belief, it’s not romance for the sake of romance - in this instance, the romance very much strengthens their development individually.

Asides from all of this, it was decided from the very beginning that Yang would lose her arm (foreshadowed in the Yellow trailer). The moment they decided that Yang would lose her arm protecting Blake, was the moment a decision was made to invariably tie these two narratives together on a very fundamental level.

But also, don’t clown yourself into thinking you’re not a homophobe if you think any LGBT content belongs in the background whilst also rejoicing any onscreen developments between straight ships.

“If BB was meant to be a thing then they wouldn’t have had Sun as a romantic interest.”

Is there a universe where love triangles and bisexuals are a foreign concept?

But in all seriousness, I think that certain corners of fanbases seem to struggle with any concepts that are non-linear; something I often see with anime. By ‘linear’, I mean: love interest introduced > build up > canon > together forever. As opposed to ‘non-linear’; a character that goes on their own journey of discovery and, through which, has more than one interest and path over time and has the ability to change their mind. The show was never a ‘romance’ as a primary theme; it’s an action/adventure which has some romantic subplots. But to honest, Blake changing her mind shouldn’t really be this much of a shock to the fanbase given that our FIRST ever interaction with Blake, in her TRAILER, is her changing her mind about her partner (and first romantic interest) and deciding to pursue a new journey. A scene which is actually referred back to in the Season 6 opener when Blake uncouples the train and sees what she believes to be a hallucination of a hooded Adam on the opposite carriage, foreshadowing the importance of that original decision later in the series (“you didn’t leave scars, you just left me, alone”).

The arc that follows Blake thereafter is inherently tied to Adam (amongst other important themes), who is predominantly based off Gaston and the rose (or curse of the rose) from Beauty and the Beast. Blake and Yang are interchangeably alluded to as both Belle and the Beast throughout their character arcs from as early as the Red Trailer: “Black the beast descends from shadows / Yellow beauty burns gold.” and as recently as Blake describing Yang to the Hunter Mice in Vol. 9 Chapter 1. I can rhyme off these allusions until I’m blue, but again, I may save this for a master post.

The story that Blake is based on is a love triangle - she was never meant to have one set path from the beginning and romantic interests were always meant to play a huge part in Blake’s story/development; she was always going to have a romantic decision to make after conquering the curse / Gaston. Blake being haunted by her first romantic interest is foreshadowed in the ending of her trailer and first referenced in her conversation (with Yang) at Mountain Glen, and becomes an undeniable path of exploration once Yang loses her arm to Adam at the end of Volume 3. Let it be noted that Sun was present when Yang announced she was going to find Blake at the Battle of Beacon - a decision was made here for Yang to be the one to lose her arm protecting Blake, as was Adam’s poignant promise to take away everything Blake loves - “starting with [Yang]” or, otherwise, the solidifying of this romantic subplot. Which, again, is called back to with the infamous line: “What does she even see in you?” besides the obvious subtext, it’s setting the stage for these parallels between Adam and Yang, past and future, the previous love interest identifying something in Blake that used to be reserved for him, now directed towards Yang.

This season began with Blake declaring that Yang “seems scary, but isn’t”. Because, once Belle knows the Beast isn’t scary, she allows herself to fall in love (conveniently, this is said whilst walking through a fairy tale).

I could go into a big post about romantic foils and the ways in which Yang, Adam and Blake are all foils to each other but I might make a separate post instead for anyone new to the FNDM. Either way, I feel it’s worth mentioning as it’s Blake who directly compares Yang to a past love interest who was designed with semblances and characteristics that mirror each other. Point being, no one should be shocked that Blake has multiple interests given the character and fairy tale she’s based off and heavy allusions where Yang is concerned.

“Oh yeah, because Yang ‘literally purred at guys in their underwear’ Xiao Long and Blake ‘literally kissed a boy’ Belladonna are clearly bisexual because of [insert out of context reasons]” and “yes but Monty said...”

1. You mean... the one, and only one scene in 9 entire volumes where Yang shows any interest (albeit jokingly) in a guy, and the literal scene directly before she sees Blake from across the crowded room and proceeds to never express interest in men again? (Ignoring the very obvious implied trope here). And, in fact, only expresses interest in a woman from this point onwards? This is your frame of reference? Personally, I find it quite lovely that Yang’s perspective is never the same from the moment she sees Blake. Asides from this, while ‘bisexual�� is the label that these guys have gone with, Yang’s sexuality hasn’t been confirmed outside of being sapphic - it’s not outside the realm of possibility that she is, in all likelihood, lesbian. It’s important to note here that any young character expressing an interest in a man would not invalidate that same character being a lesbian. In fact, if we apply this to real life, it’s not uncommon for people not to realise that they’re queer immediately (I myself didn’t until I was 21). But in the opening episodes of the series especially, I’d very much chalk this up to writers exploring the characters.

2. As for Blake - there are, from what I remember, three kisses in the entire show so far. The one between Jaune and Pyrrha - on the lips after prolonged romantic allusions between the two (their romance is explicitly referenced by Nora - “practice what you preach, Pyrrha.” - almost fitting that it’s Nora to call out the Bees in Season 7 - A Night Off, no? Neat little parallel for y’all). The one between Ren and Nora after trying to work out the status of their romantic relationship - again, on the lips. And the one where Blake says goodbye (and thank you) to Sun by kissing him... On the cheek. (So hot, I know). Which is immediately followed up with Sun telling Neptune “it was never about that”. One of these is not like the other, can you guess which? I’ll wait.

As for referencing Monty - I could go on all day about this one, and the quote most notoriously used is ‘they’re a sisterhood’. Firstly, let me just say that I find it disturbing that anyone would use the show’s deceased creator as ammunition, whilst also disregarding his other comments on LGBT rep - specifically, ‘maybe there are LGBT characters there now / they’re just kids rn and figuring it out / it needs to be earned’. But also, it’s really disturbing and egotistical that anybody would pretend to know what Monty wanted better than the crew he handpicked, worked with, collaborated with and was friends with (special mention to the fact that his own brother is one of the cast). If you truly want to honour his legacy, then show respect to the people he put his trust in.

“I don’t have an issue with BB, but why does it always have to take away from Yang’s moments with Ruby?” / “All Yang’s feelings for her sister transferred to Blake.”

One from the hall of fame. The age old question of ‘can a girl have a romantic partner and still care about her family?’ I wish this wasn’t a serious question, but there are actual sides of the Fandom that seem to think that Yang’s forgotten about her sister that she raised because she has feelings for someone and that the sole purpose of Yang’s existence is to be her sister’s keeper.

I’mma address this on 3 fronts. 1 - Logistically, the episodes for RWBY, excluding the intros, are 15-20 mins long currently and typically oversee several different storylines particularly as the cast grows larger, leaving us with... What? About 5 minutes of team RWBY interactions? It’s not a lot of time to pack in character development, relationship development, plotline, strategy etc. so often if they’re wanting to develop more than one relationship, they will alternate between putting these themes in the background (such as the yellow in Blake’s sword, references from other characters etc.) and foreground, and some developments have to be shoulder-to-shoulder to fit them in. This isn’t an indicator of how much one character cares for one another and is more a demon created by people’s perception of how they ‘think’ a protective sister should act.

Additionally, it should be noted that Yang fawning over Ruby and not allowing her to develop other relationships outside of her sister, would actually offer us nothing from a development perspective for both Yang and Ruby’s characters and would, instead, steer these two strong female characters down a path of co-dependency.

2 - It feels like a very easy excuse for Anti-BB folk to throw out there, conveniently forgetting how great of a sister Yang actually is (contrary to the number of RWDE videos I’ve seen arguing otherwise, as this is an essay I could write in itself). These very often take isolated incidents out of context and conveniently forget important information like Yang 1. Literally sacrificing herself twice to protect her sister 2. Sacrificing her entire childhood to raise her sister and 3. Importantly, the fact that Ruby is her (self-sufficient) Team Leader needs to be factored into their dynamic, as Yang gives her space to find herself as a leader and steps in when her sister actually needs her - not when the audience thinks she does. People hear ‘protectiveness’ and seem to think that this should mean that Yang should be overbearing.

3 - Anyone who says this doesn’t have siblings. I have older and younger siblings and, having largely raised my younger sibling, I can safely say that I still love them even when I’m in a relationship. I also feel extremely secure in arguing/disagreeing with any of my siblings because I inherently know they will still be there at the end of the day - a sibling love goes deep (referencing ‘Fault’ from Volume 8). However, in a romantic relationship that is not established and very new... you will feel insecure, that’s normal, it doesn’t have the luxury of established stability that siblings do, and therefore you will overtly express more anxiety about this as a result. It’s a very strange concept that if you have a sibling, you need to give them all of your attention and ignore any love interests. Yang has gone through her own traumas, she has every right to care about others, heal herself, and have a life that isn’t defined by being a caretaker for her sister. ESPECIALLY as she already gave up her childhood to fulfil this role, unselfishly AND as the person she’s bonding with is best poised to understand Yang’s trauma. Yang as a character deserves to receive the love she constantly gives out. Again, this is a demon born from the fact that it either doesn’t reflect the relationship commentors have with their siblings, or the fact that they’re *imagining* how that relationship should be.

Bonus picture below: Yang putting aside her anguish for Summer Rose, who she considered to be her mother, to prioritise comforting her sister about that same loss.

“I hate BB shippers because they pass off BS interactions as platonic. BS made more sense, there was no build-up to BB until Vol 6 and they let the BS build-up go to waste to force BB.”

First off, there’s nothing wrong with BlackSun as a ship. Shipping shouldn’t be dictated by canonicity and people have the right to ship it and to their opinions. And while a few of these seem to have referenced BS, I don’t actually think that BS shippers are at fault for the hatred coming this way, but rather that the ship seems to get used as ammunition from the Anti-BB crowd - to summarise, Anti-BB and BS shippers are not synonymous. I personally don’t ship BS, but I do enjoy the debate and actually think that Sun is a very important part of Blake’s development and arc. There did seem to be some form of mutual attraction between Blake and Sun. Had they gone down that route, I wouldn’t have hated it, I just never felt excited by it, which seems to be a large consensus amongst BB fans. An appreciation whilst feeling there was a better alternative.

Believing all the development between Sun and Blake was ‘wasted’ is also very closed-minded given how much he helped Blake in the White Fang arc and also disregards the importance of their friendship. BS has the potential to be one of the best and most supportive friendships in the series, I stand by that.

That said, I don’t think it’s entirely wrong to acknowledge that a lot of (not all) interactions between BS were platonic from Blake’s pov while Sun’s feelings were more explicit. The only real hint I saw of Blake reciprocating was a blush at the Vytal festival. Maybe the dance at a stretch, but there’s hints at both BS and BB and I will fight you on it. Now, it might be a question of timing; Adam was still a prevalent threat during this time which will have been weighing on Blake given the resurgence of the White Fang, and is clear when Adam rocks up seeking vengeance in Volume 3. For this reason, I honestly think it would have been disingenuous to have explored Blake in a full relationship with anyone at this point given these loose ends, and Blake undergoes a lot of development over volumes 4-6 as a direct result of this.

Additionally, if BB didn’t begin until Volume 6 then that means that BS had 4-5 volumes to happen - 2 of which where they were in their own arc, separated from the main cast. It didn’t happen. What happens instead is Blake’s guilt over Yang weighs heavily on her while she deals with her arc and Sun helps her come to terms with this, ultimately redirecting her back to her team, and Yang, while Sun’s interactions with her become increasingly platonic from his side.

Lastly, the only way you don’t see build up for BB, is if you actively will yourself not to see build-up. If you replace Blake and Yang’s moments with Sun, I don’t feel there’d be any misunderstandings on how these moments are supposed to be interpreted. Take off the hetero goggles, and we’re cool.

But on a sidenote and personal pet peeve of mine, the cries of ‘BB is forced while BS had build-up’ will forever irritate me - BB has a slow burn, a full arc, developed from a friendship and partnership as well as several tropes and allusions without going into too much detail. BS, firstly, never ended up happening, but it starts when Sun runs past, winks at Blake, magically knows she’s a faunus, then proceeds to follow around a girl he doesn’t know for two days who, at his own admission, didn’t speak that whole time. But... BB is forced? I’d say it’s subjective, but logic defies when this is the barometer for a natural introduction of a romantic pair.

“BB is ‘queerbait’”

Let’s address the ‘Goliath’ in the room, shall we? ‘Queerbaiting’ gets thrown around like a reflex at the moment by pseudo-fans who I don’t believe actually know the gravity of their statements or the meaning behind the word. I often see this slur paired with BB being strung out to keep the shippers watching. Now, there’s an essay in itself that could exist in this section, but are people really still clowning themselves that a show that’s explicitly shown that it wants to have queer representation in the cast and foreground is ‘queerbaiting’ it’s audience? Even weirder for me is the part of the FNDM saying that it’ll be baiting if they make BB canon. Please stop this nonsense and do some research.

Now, one thing I would like to tackle is that, sadly, some will still see pairings on the show through heteronormative glasses, so let me use that here. If the pair were a m/f couple and had several seasons of development and increasingly intimate moments, there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that 1. It was heading in the direction of canon and 2. That it was a slow burn romance that’s building to its’ climax. Interestingly, the show actually does use the hetero goggles to frame BB on several occasions by paralleling this budding romance with several straight ships such as Arkos and Renora. Why? Because this is a narrative technique often used by writers to frame LGBT romances to separate them from ‘just friendships’ and, let’s face it, use an unconscious heteronormative bias to their advantage.

“BB is badly written, they barely interacted in volumes 1-3 then didn’t speak for two volumes.”

Tickle me pink. Volumes 1-3 are a very strange reference point for ‘in-depth’ development between characters. Crumbs, sure. The odd scene, absolutely. But let’s be real here - the show started as a low budget web series with an onus on cool fighting scenes and, most importantly, the episodes were around 5 minutes long whilst entertaining teams RWBY and JNPR, the White Fang, the Vytal tournament and several other plots. Nobody particularly interacted much but the writers did the best they could with what they had and the rest is left to us, the audience, to interpret that relationships are developing off-screen. Though from a critique POV in the interest of fairness, I would say the current season is a breath of fresh air by re-focusing the plot on the central characters as I think the show can sometimes be guilty of taking on too many plotlines.

As for volumes 4-5, while they’re in different continents, it’s obvious that they’re prevalent in each other’s arcs. Whether it’s Yang admitting she’s struggling with Blake’s abandonment - in the same episode the first lesbian character is revealed confessing their feelings to Blake (sidenote, all of team RWBY left Yang, and it’s Blake she’s mad at, this was always meant to be framed differently to her other teammates and IMO the struggle they go through is meant to frame the characters coming to terms with the depth of what they mean to each other), the parallels of them both getting onto the ship (named ‘Pride’ - wink wink), or Blake actively struggling to talk about Yang, yet referencing it when Sun is hurt (“Not again!”) showing it’s at the forefront of her mind. All of which culminates in their reunion in the Vol 5 finale.

Is it the best writing ever? No, nothing’s perfect. But they do explicitly use parallels throughout the series to drive the narrative forward as a foreshadowing tool to strengthen subplots.

“Blake being bisexual makes no sense - she was interested in Sun, it just seems so out of the blue, she and Yang just seemed like friends to me.”

Funny, because she and Sun seemed like friends to me too.

There are so many things I wanted to fire back at this, from the insinuation that if a woman first shows interest in a man then it’s out of the blue that she’s bisexual now that she’s showing interest in a woman... Like, how do you think it happens for bisexuals IRL?! Did you want her to burst onto the scene in Volume 1, announce she likes men and women, and then express explicit simultaneous interest in both of them? Start a harem? Proposition a throuple?

This particular take amuses me most of all as someone who is very openly bisexual. Yes, she and Yang seemed like friends. Great friends, in fact. That hold hands and blush and want to spend all their time together. And check each other out when the other isn’t looking. And make excuses for casual physical contact and flirt and giggle like a couple of giddy teenagers. Just like me and my ‘best friend’ did, before I realised I was bi. I’m sure that a lot of people thought it came out of the blue for me too. Blake being oblivious to being bisexual until it becomes too obvious to ignore is actually a very realistic scenario.

Bonus headline - just because you don’t understand/identify with something, doesn’t mean that it’s not good representation or realistic. I feel it’s also important to mention Blake’s VA, Arryn Zech, is bisexual and has spoken numerous times on the matter. The reason I bring this up is because it’s clear that the way in which the bisexuality of her character is presented on the show is actually something that’s incredibly important to Arryn - because good representation is significant.

Presenting labels and sexuality on Remnant: A Theory and - “BB is a terrible representation of LGBT and your critique ignores the female and LGBT people that have spoken out against it.”

They say, to someone who is both female and LGBT. Credit to the Anon who charged into my inbox to accuse me of the above - hope you enjoy. Now, there’s a couple of things I’d like to cover before I go into how sexuality is perceived in-universe. The first is that if you use this argument against someone who is queer without seeing the belligerent hypocrisy of your statement, please check yourself as, clearly, you only care about LGBT voices on representation when it aligns with your own rhetoric and ready to dismiss any narrative to the contrary from that same community.

Secondly, the queer/LGBT community is a vast and vibrant community of *individuals* with their own opinions and own voices. I didn’t nominate anyone to speak on my behalf, just as I don’t speak on the behalf of the rest of the community. Moreover, any art is open to interpretation. My opinion does not override theirs, nor does their opinion erase my own. And, believe it or not, it’s quite possible to have two or more differing opinions within one community without being at war with one another. I respect their opinion, just as I hope they respect mine.

We clear? Great. Onto the analysis! Huge shoutout to @crimsonxe for the brilliant discussion and assistance with the analysis in the comments that helped me construct this section! You’re awesome.

Let’s dive in with the headline - Homophobia doesn’t appear to be an issue on Remnant and labels don’t appear to exist, in the sense that it doesn’t appear anywhere in-universe. Now just to pre-emptively disclaimer: this may change, but in 9 volumes and however many supplementary materials, we’ve not heard any labels or had any representation of this type of discrimination. If that changes, I’ll happily remove this.

So why is this important, you ask? Ultimately, when you take away the inherent ‘fear’ that a lot of the LGBT community face IRL along with prevalent ignorance towards the community and society’s insistence on labelling sexualities and gender identity, it creates a world divorced from our own and is, from a narrative point of view, a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it allows the characters to explore themselves in a non-discriminatory environment that is inherently more fluid and free, whilst the audience will inevitably want to compare that to their own experiences. But we can’t - not properly - due to the still very real stigma and discrimination that exists in our own world. Instead, what we see are characters who express an interest in other characters and find other ways to allude to their preferences or identity. A prime example of this would be May, canonically a trans character, who does not use this term in-world but instead says, “To the Marigolds that meant I wasn’t their son, and I made sure everyone knew I wasn’t their daughter.” This is a theme that is poignantly reflected in the accompanying media for the series - such as the books; for instance, Coco, canonically lesbian, referring to “breaking the hearts of many women.”

How does this tie into the relationship with Blake and Yang? Glad you asked. If you bear in mind that Remnant has a very fluid outlook on sexuality and more of a ‘love who you love’ ethos which is blind to gender norms, it immediately subverts the assumption that interactions between m/f are romantic while f/f are platonic. It’s an open field, if you will. BB is a steady build from partner/best friend (though I’d argue that at least Yang had an immediate attraction, with Blake figuring herself out) with interactions that become increasing more intimate. Eye rolls and jokes become winks and innuendo (“I love it when you’re feisty!”), nudges become intimate hugs (Burning the Candle), become hand-holding (it isn’t coincidence that these two have held hands more than any other pair in the series), becomes pining, blushing, forehead touches (BB and Renora - remember those parallels), which evolves into flirting and... More. And yes, some of their interactions will still resemble the friendship they built their foundations on. But in a world where labels don’t exist, that journey from friend-to-lover is much more subtle and embedded in a gentle upwards curve of increasing intimacy.

“BB is only happening because the horrible BB fans demanded it, the show caved and gave in to the toxic fanbase, it wasn’t planned from the beginning.”

I’ve seen this in so many places, like a broken record. I have no doubt that there are BB fans that are fanatical, and I’d never justify the behaviour of any so-called fan that resorts to death threats or violence in any way. I’m hoping this surely must be a minority that has, hopefully, shrunk over the years as the audience has matured. However, this also really isn’t how shows work...

As many have pointed out in recent weeks, the show would be a very different landscape altogether if CRWBY were, in fact, that easily swayed by fans; namely, I’m thinking of Clover/Qrow, Pyrrha, Penny etc. While I don’t doubt that show-makers pay attention to the fanbase where needed and where it’ll be beneficial (seeing how fans react to developments, if allusions are clear etc.), sending death threats or whatever is actually much more counterproductive than anything else. But also... You’re not on the crew, you’re not part of those discussions. I feel confident that Miles, Kiersi and Kerry aren’t writing BB content with a gun to their head.

Lastly, the ‘it wasn’t planned from the beginning’ war cry is a tale as old as time. Like Beauty and the Beast. (See what I did there?) Asides from the fact that 1. Yang and Blake were actually the first created out of the team, and made with each other in mind, regardless of in what context (check out the original character designs/concepts) 2. Even if it wasn’t planned from the beginning, what difference does it make? There are tonnes of examples where the writers have felt the chemistry between two characters as the story’s gone on and decided to put them together (case-in-point from outside the anime world.. Chandler and Monica from Friends). In fact, while some writers like to plan every element of their plot from the beginning, there’s a great many writers who allow the characters to steer the plot as they grow - especially arcs with romantic undertones. The series was made predominantly for the action - it’s not a romantic series, so if they didn’t plan it from the beginning that wouldn’t be unusual, especially given that the episodes of the first few volumes are literally 5-10 minutes long. But regardless of whether the romance of the two was planned or not planned, it does not make it any less meaningful.

But let’s be real, the issue at heart isn’t that they weren’t sucking face in the first 3 seasons, it’s that they thought Blake would be with a guy, and she chose a girl. To which I say... Get over your bruised ego, and move on.

“BB fans deserve the hate they get because of x, y, z and cos it has toxic shippers.”

And you’re... Not... Toxic? If you’re an Anti-BB shipper and go out of your way to stalk and comment on BB tags/accounts just to harass shippers etc, then are you any better than the toxic fans you supposedly hate? To me, following BB tags and looking at BB content whilst being an Anti-BB shipper is so weird, why you trying to hurt your own feelings?

Also, saying that innocent shippers who are just living their best life should bear the burden of the toxic FNDM, is literally the definition of tarring everyone with the same brush. Some of us just want to eat our crumbs in peace, and from our POV, you’re the toxic ones being disrespectful. Bonus point: others being toxic does not give you licence to be hateful to anyone you come across that doesn’t agree with you.

“I’m no longer watching the show cos it’s trying too hard to be ‘woke’”

This ain’t an airport, you don’t need to announce your departure. But since you are, if your issue is the gay representation in the show then wake up and look around... We’re everywhere. The show is literally just reflecting the diversity you see day-to-day; but you keep sipping that haterade, my dude, we’re here to stay.

#anti rwde #rwby analysis #bumbleby #rwby

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chillyravenart · 5 years ago

Note

Do you think the fandom's reaction to characters like Jaime and Sandor are less harsh than they are to Tyrion? I feel like as a Tyrion fan (who doesn't excuse how much of a piece of shit he is) people don't want to be nuanced when it comes to his character as much as they are with Jaime and Sandor who are marginally better but still bad.

This is actually a really great question and a good point, and I think you're right in many regards anon.

First off, I love Tyrion as a character too and his PoVs are some of my absolute favourites. The first time I ever read the series, he was genuinely one of my favourite characters. During my current reread I've come to appreciate his narrative even more! I know he's highly problematic and some of his actions shock me - BUT I will continue to enjoy his storyline, because I am a reader first and foremost. We know he can also be very emotive and human as well as clever and capable, so his narrative is highly absorbing.

I don't bother with reading much of the character-based discourse anymore because I'm comfortable with my own opinions and views, but I'm sure there's plenty out there if you were to look... ( *whispers* don't do it).

We also get Tyrion's PoVs before any of his siblings and get an earlier insight into his character. When we are introduced to Jaime, he's the arrogant kingslayer who is an incestuous relationship with his sister and our views of him might not be initially positive. It takes his actions, his newfound honour and relationship with Brienne as well as his own inner thoughts to truly get the measure of him. He still has flaws but we learn to empathise more. Similarly, the Hound is introduced as the callous bodyguard to the odious Joffrey, and we see him cut down an innocent young boy which again, taints our image of him. However, his gentleness towards Sansa, his derision for the status quo, his tortured psyche and interactions with Arya show us a different side to him as well. Do each other these characters become absolved of their actions? Absolutely not, but what would be the point of reading the books if we weren't meant to reassess and move on with the narrative? Flawed characters don't have to be rationalised, negative traits aren't meant to be brought before a judge, they meant to be acknowledged and understood. Screw the morality police, root for whomsoever you please.

I personally think people tend to be more nuanced about Jaime and Sandor because the ability to romanticise them is greater. I don't see this fandom romanticising Tyrion at all, and characters like Jaime who are lovable rogues on the road to redemption and Sandor who is gruff and crude on the outside but vulnerable within, tend to be easier to mentally empathise with. I also noticed that this fandom tends to be a lot more forgiving about their love interests as well, compared to many others -including Tyrion. I personally don't have an issue with that, but I do feel your frustration when one character gets more shit for something that others on the same page don't. In some of the critiques I have seen about Tyrion, people write him off as a disgusting character completely. If we were to look at it, he has also suffered from abuses and prejudices and childhood trauma as well. But he has his vulnerabilities and good points too. This "weighing of morality" can get very tiresome imo and I'm just no longer here for that.

The vast majority of characters in the series are grey and problematic, and if I'm totally honest it's all about how people subjectively choose to interpret them. We can all be nuanced or critical about one character over another and that's just how most of us absorb literary fiction. Ever since I started my reread, I've tried not to get involved in too much discourse and try to enjoy the stories how I initially did. I find that it makes reading the series a lot more entertaining and freeing! Tumblr has a extremely toxic habit of turning everything into an analytical dissertation, when most of us aren't here for that. We just want our escapism, and I think we should all be free to enjoy whichever aspects of the series we want to. Being sanctimonious or self-righteous about one problematic aspect whilst completely glossing over the other is intensely hypocritical to me, and it's something I've always found entirely redundant. Live and let live.

I will finish this answer by saying that we should all continue to enjoy and uplift our favourite characters, regardless of them being good or bad or grey, if it makes us happy. It's fiction, it shouldn't be that deep, and ultimately many of us are able to process our own emotions or traumas via these characters in a safe and controlled manner.

If you like Tyrion, keep liking Tyrion and don't let people put you off your escapism👍🏻

#asoiaf #fanwank #tyrion lannister #anon asks #chillyravenart answers

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swearwolf-writes · 5 years ago

Text

The Paradox - Chapter 2

Jemma was sound asleep, comfortable and warm in her bed, her dreams for once not plagued with nightmares. The sound of an airhorn tore through the silence, violently knocking the girl from her sleep. She groaned, bleary eyed and blinking slowly, as she squinted at her phone's harshly lit screen. What do the Salvatore brothers want now I wonder? Come to the boarding house ASAP. Urgent. - SS "Bloody hell." She grumbled, clearly disgruntled about being woken before her alarm.

She sped over to the house with her school bag only to find Elena Gilbert standing outside the door. She raised her eyebrows, thinking back to the curse. She walked in the house, Elena trailing in behind her. "What was so urgent that I had to be roused at such an ungodly time? Oh - and Damon, dear friend - that means woken up." He saw (and heard) Jemma and rolled his eyes. "I know what 'roused' means Jemma. I'm not an idiot." "That is debatable." He shot his old friend a dirty look and chose to ignore her, instead focusing his attention on Elena.

"Hello Elena." "Is Stefan here? He called. He said it was important." "Right this way." He spoke quietly and let her in, being unusually quiet.

"Hey." Stefan spoke up as he walked towards her. The young girl cut him off and asked him swiftly, "what's going on?" Everyone is so serious today….” She trailed off as she spotted Rose entering the room. “You." Elena whispered as Jemma simply glared, her anger evident.

The two went into the lounge and sat on the couch beside one another, apparently in agreement about the newcomer considering how Elena eyed her wearily. "Okay, you have to understand I only know what I've picked up over the years and I don't know what's true and what's not true. It's the problem with all this vampire crap but Klaus, I know he's real." Jemma’s eyes widened a little at the mention of her old friend but she kept quiet, wanting to hear what she had to say. "Who is he?" Elena asked the question that no one wants to hear. Brave girl, if not stupid - she would do well to keep her nose out of Mikaelson business. No good comes of it. "He's one of the Originals - he's a legend." Damon answered her. Jemma pursed her lips as she avoided smiling; the irony that she, an Original, was their friend and yet they didn’t believe in them was not lost on her. Nothing’s wrong yet, wonder how long it'll take. "He's from the first generation of vampires." Stefan followed up. "Like Elijah?" "No. Elijah was the Easter bunny compared to Klaus. He's a foot soldier. Klaus is the real deal." Jemma resisted the urge to laugh at her. Eli is no foot soldier. He just happens to have more restraint. "Klaus is known to be the oldest." Stefan unhelpfully added, making her roll her eyes discreetly. Eli's older than Nik and Finn than them both. "Okay,so you're saying that the oldest vampire in the history of time is coming after me?" "Yes." "No." Rose and Stefan both reply at the same time, making her chuckle. "Actually, yes - if it really is Klaus, then he's not just coming after you, he will get you." "Sounds like you know him?" "Oh no," she quickly replied, "if he really is the oldest vampire ever created though, he'll have some major strength." "What they're saying is," Damon stood up, glaring at Rose, Jemma and Stefan, "I mean if what they're saying is true-" "It is." Rose and I cut him off. "And you're not saying it so I don't kill you-" "Which I'm not." Jemma smirked at the vampire as she repetitively cut in. Maybe she’s not so bad. "Then we're looking at a solid maybe." Jemma arched a brow. ‘Maybe’ means she's pretty much dead already. Elena swallowed hard and took a breath, naturally making Stefan attempt to come to the rescue. "Look, Elijah's dead, right? So no one else even knows you exist." Jemma squirmed silently in her seat, a part of her wanting to tell the group that Elijah was very much alive, while another part told her to keep her mouth shut because she wouldn’t be able to tell them that without exposing herself - and more importantly, her family - as Originals and that would only bring more trouble. "Not that you know of." Rose mentioned, Jemma pointing at her in agreement. "Elijah might have told someone before he got there as he knew Rose would only call him for one reason: Katerina or her döppleganger." She piped up. "That's not helping." Damon looked at the pair, once again disappointed but not surprised. "Look, I've never even met anyone who's laid eyes on him." Once again, I must resist the urge to laugh. "I mean, we're talking centuries of truth mixed with fiction. We don't know if he's real. For all we know he could just be some sort of stupid bed time story." Stefan placed his hand on Elena's shoulder, making Jemma fake-gag in the background as Rose jumped up. "He's real and he doesn't give up. If he wants something, he gets it. If you're not afraid of Klaus, then you're an idiot." Guess I’m an idiot then. "Alright, we're shaking. You made your point." Damon looked pointedly at Rose, making her smile sarcastically at him.

Elena got up without a word, shouldering her bag as Stefan watched her reach the room’s threshold. “Where are you going?” “School - we’re late.” “Let me grab my stuff, I'll go with you.” Stefan got off the sofa, walking towards her. “It's okay, I know where it is.” She left without another word, Jemma cringing on Stefan’s behalf behind him.

“She's in denial.” Damon stage-whispered to Rose, making him turn and stare daggers at him. “Shut up, Damon.” Jemma snorted at the brothers, dumping her bag on the floor as she sprawled out on the sofa. “Tell the teachers I’m sick today. I can’t be bothered going in.” She called, waving goodbye as he left the room,

----------

The sound of voices in a nearby room woke Jemma as she stumbled over to the lounge and interrupted a tense conversation between Rose and Damon.

“Don't get on my bad side.” he growled at her, his voice low. “Then show me your good side,” she replied, not missing a beat. Jemma coughed to indicate her presence but was dismissed without a word. “How do I find Klaus?” “You don't find Klaus, he finds you.” “Come on,” he turned and paced in frustration, “somebody's got to know somebody who knows where he is, right?” He turned to the eldest vampire for backup, receiving only a shrug. “Add another two hundred somebodies to that and you're still not even close.” “Humor me. You got in touch with Elijah, how did you do it?” “Through a very low somebody on the totem pole. A guy named Slater in Richmond.” “Perfect. I'll drive.” “No. You forget not all of us can do sun.” “Then you drive. Come on.” “I’m coming with.” Jemma followed the pair.

----------

The trio reached the underground parking lot, Rose parking the car as Jemma stretched her arms in the backseat.

“Back entrance. How convenient.” Damon remarked. “That's the point. We can't all have little daylight rings.” “You could just befriend a witch - I’m sure they’d be perfectly willing to help if you didn’t try to, oh I don’t know, break their necks.” Jemma retorted snappily. “Oh give over - you’re not even a witch anymore. And in any case, if a witch screwed me over, I’d drain them-” Rose was cut off by Jemma, her hand wrapped tightly around her throat as she bared her fangs. Damon sighed, grabbing her hand and pushing her away lightly.

“If you two are done, how do you know this Slater guy is even here?” “I called him. He's here. He's always here.” “Good.” He pushes her against the wall at super speed. “Just one thing. If you're setting me up in any way, I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat.” He smiled, almost cheerfully at her. “It's something I'm very good at.” Rose grabbed him and pushed him against the car with ease, twisting his arm painfully behind his back. “I'm older than you and stronger. Don't get on my bad side.” She released him, looking at him with sincerity in her eyes. “You can trust me.”

They entered the coffee shop, Rose tugging off her jacket as she reached the windows. “What-” Jemma mumbled in surprise as the girl stood in the sun and didn’t burn. “Whoa. What about the sunlight?” Damon gestured in confusion at the wall length windows. “Double paned and tempered. UV rays can't penetrate. You see the appeal now?” She explained, smiling as she spotted her old friend, Slater.

“That and the free Wi-Fi.” The man joined their conversation, quickly being pulled into a hug by Rose. “Hey, how are you?” “Good. I saw you come, what are you doing here?” “Mmm, it's a long story but I want you to meet…” She gestured to her partners. “Damon Salvatore. Turned 1864 in Mystic Falls by Katherine Pierce aka Katerina Petrova. And…. someone I don’t know. I’m sorry, you are….?” “Jemma Erikson - pleasure.” He nodded, turning back to the more familiar face that was Rose. “So I take it I was right, what I told you about the tomb under the church was true?” “Yes. It was right. Thank you for the tip.”

He looks at Damon, putting a hand out. “It's nice to meet you,” Slater said, shaking the man’s hand, “maybe.”, he finished cautiously. “What's going on Rose? Where's Trevor?”

----------

“And you're sure Elijah's dead?” “Beyond dead.” Damon nodded, the group of four heading over to Slater’s table with coffees. “Trevor was a good man; he helped me with my dissertation on sexual deviance in the Baroque period. I was schooling for my Psych PhD.” “Slater's been in college since '74.” Rose explained. “When I was turned. I have 18 degrees, 3 master's and 4 PhDs.” He said proudly. Damon looked as if he were resisting the urge to kill him which he might have been doing but nonetheless that was how he looked whenever Slater decided to open his mouth. “The point?” “Exactly, I mean, what is the point? What should I be doing with my eternity? If you have an answer, please enlighten me.” Damon looked Jemma dead in the eyes, clearly tired of the man already. “We need your help. If someone wanted to get in touch with Klaus, how would you hook him up?” “Craigslist.” He replied with an air of faux nonchalance. “Really?” Jemma questioned him. Seems a bit mundane. “Seriously. I respond to a personal ad to get sent to somebody who knows somebody who knows Elijah, who's dead and that's where my connection ends.”

Silence sat heavily at the table till Damon leaned forward and shook his head. “Here's what I don't get: Elijah moved around during the day, which means the originals knew the secret of the day ring. Now why would Klaus want to lift the curse of the sun and the moon?” “To keep the werewolves from lifting it. If a vampire breaks the sun curse then the werewolves are stuck with the curse of the moon forever and vice versa.” Slater answered. “But werewolves are extinct.” Rose replied in confusion. “True. I've never seen one but rumor has it…” He trailed off. “Well-” Jemma interjected. “Not such a rumor.” Damon finished. Slater looked between the two of them, clearly interested. “Mystic Falls?” The pair nodded. “God, I've got to visit this place. It sounds awesome.” He added, oddly awestruck. “Awesome doesn't even begin to describe it. Can we stop the curse from being broken at all?” Damon asked. “What do you mean?” “Well, if we make the moonstone useless, would it stop the curse from being broken?” “Well, yeah, probably, but why would you want to do that?” “Tell me how.” “You think I'm gonna help you figure out how to do something that will piss off an original? And keeping them from walking in the sun?” Smart boy. “You want to walk in the sun? I can make that happen if you help us.”

Damon’s attempts to bribe the man with the possibility of a daylight ring were short-lived as all of a sudden the windows came crashing in, shattered glass all around them as screams erupted from the throats of the vampires there. Jemma attempted to cover Rose with her body as Damon looked out onto the street for the perpetrator. Despite her attempts, Rose's face was burnt, her skin still burning as Damon put a jacket on Rose's face and helped her get out the back of the coffee shop, Jemma shortly following the pair after having been pushed behind the stampede of people fleeing the coffee shop. He carried Rose to the car and put her in the back, Jemma reaching them and placing a hand on Damon’s shoulder.

“You're gonna be okay.” He looked at her almost kindly, seeming to actually care. “I know.” She breathed heavily, still wincing in pain at her burns. “Who's behind that?” “I don't know. Where is Slater?” “Iowa by now. Who the hell knows?” Rose shook her head, speaking fast as she healed, her skin regaining its normal colour. “He's not behind this, he's a good guy, he wouldn't betray me.” “Then who did it?” “It's Klaus, don't you understand? You don't know this man, we're dead, we're all dead.” She sobbed, not from pain but from fear. Fear of my old friend - of my family. Maybe Edmund was right. Maybe they truly did become monsters.

----------

Having parted ways with Rose and Damon at the Salvatore House, Jemma trudged home in silence, thinking hard at what she thought to be true. A low whistling caught her ears making her halt in the middle of the street. It was a familiar old tune that she hadn’t heard in quite some time. Her breath hitched as she looked around, trying to assess the situation. She shook her head and grumbled, ignoring the sound and filing it as a part of her imagination as she hurried home.

She unlocked the door, stepping in and scuffing her boots on the mat. “I’m home!” She called, locking the door behind her. “Family meeting, now!” She added, pulling her hair back into a ponytail as she went to the living room, flopping heavily on a beanbag. Her siblings quickly followed suit, Edmund leaning on the doorframe with crossed arms and Fran perching on the arm of a sofa.

“Where’s the fire?” Ed asked, seemingly unperturbed however his fingers tapping restlessly against his arm gave his worry away all too quickly. “Don’t freak out or anything but I think we had another run in with the Mikaelsons….?” She replied slowly, cringing a little as she waited for their outbursts about how irresponsible she was. None came. How odd. “Um, okay, well Damon, Rose and I - Rose was the vampire I told you about, the one who broke my neck - went to a coffee shop to meet a friend of hers about how to get into contact with Elijah and the rest-” “Wait, do you know how to contact him?” Fran cut her off, sitting up straight. “No - but we might have figured out a way to break the Sun and Moon Curse: all we have to do is render the moonstone useless and then the Mikaelsons won’t come to town, we won’t be exposed as Originals and there won’t be anymore annoying hunters calling for our heads - simple.” “Not simple - the Mikaelsons are killers, remember?” Edmund went over to his youngest sister, crouching down in front of her. “Look, we’ve already lost Alice to some crazy vampires and we’re not losing you too. If they don’t get what they want, they’ll tear this town apart out of spite if not necessity.” Jemma sighed, combing her fingers through her hair. “I know they’re dangerous and I know they’re not the same people they once were but I don’t trust the stories either Ed. The stories would call us monsters too simply because we’re more powerful than most vampires - those who cannot be understood are always pushed aside and portrayed as beasts and if you didn’t realise, we’re exactly like them in others’ eyes: old, powerful, secretive. We’ve all killed and while we are better than them, we are not good. But we try to redeem ourselves so what’s to say they won’t too?” “They’re not good people Jem-” “No but they were our family, we theirs and to the Mikaelsons, family is everything.” “Who’s to say they even consider us family anymore? They left us Jemima and you would do well to remember that.” “And you would do well to remember that they didn’t have a choice unless they wanted to die at the hands of their father.” Jemma and Edmund leveled their steely gazes as Fran swore from her place at the sofa.

“If you two are quite done, we should get back to the topic at hand.” She reminded her siblings, glaring at the pair of them. “Yes, well in any case, I think the Mikaelsons will be back in town at some point. They need Elena and the moonstone - both of which are right here in Mystic Falls?” “What do we do till then?” “Prepare.” Edmund answered. “How? We can’t kill them and we can’t let them kill our friends.” “We have to tell them who we are-” Jemma looked at them, her eyes imploring them to understand. “No way. We swore-” “If we don’t tell them everything, it could get them killed. We got attacked by someone at the cafe and I’m almost certain it was Elijah but I couldn’t tell them he was still alive because how would I explain to them how I know so much about the infamous Original family?” “We can’t tell them - if we do, they won’t trust a word we say. We’ve known the Salvatores for a hundred years and we didn’t tell the truth; how d’you think they’ll react to their friends having lied to them for all their lives? Right now we can help from the background but if we tell them we aren’t who we’ve said we are this past century, they won’t let us anywhere near them and we won’t be able to help at all.” Edmund reasoned, rubbing Jemma’s knee soothingly. “I know it isn’t the answer you wanted but there’s nothing else we can do.” “I hate this.”, she whispered, covering her face. “Us too.” Fran replied, sitting next to her, hugging her loosely.

#insert fic #oc insert #oc - Jemima Erikson #my works #fics - the paradox #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #Stefan Salvatore #TVD #tvd fanfic #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfic #the originals #the originals fanfic

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featherquillpen · 6 years ago

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References in “Choose Your Faces Wisely”

My dæmon AU of Good Omens, Choose Your Faces Wisely, has a lot of references and allusions in it, and some people in the comments were curious, so I decided to write a “DVD extra” explaining them.

(Content warning ahead for sexual violence.)

Part 1.

In many cultures, including Japan, ancient Greece, and early Christianity, the butterfly is a symbol of the soul – the word “psyche,” from the Greek, means butterfly. It seemed right for the prototypical first human to have a dæmon that represented the soul in its purest form.

Eve’s goat dæmon has a dual meaning. In the Talmud, goats represent strength and endurance. But also, the term “scapegoat” has its origins in the Book of Leviticus, where a sacrificed goat is used to expunge the sins of a community. After the Fall, Eve is used as a scapegoat for humanity’s fall from grace.

Aziraphale laments privately that he wishes he were sure his nature wasn’t that of a lion. In Torah and Talmud, the lion represents majestic power and courage, but it also represents cruelty and oppression.

Part 2.

Crawly wears a flax skirt and shawl in Ur because that was the garb of upper class women at the time: a skirt and a loosely draped shawl as a top – you can see this in Sumerian art. It’s dark instead of black because black was almost impossible to achieve using the dyes of the time.

When Aziraphale says that the townsfolk of Sodom and Gomorrah were horribly rude to Gabriel and Sandalphon, he is understating the case. In Genesis, when two unnamed angels come to visit Lot, a mob gathers around the house and demand Lot give the angels to the mob to be gang-raped.

Lot’s wife, who is turned into a pillar of salt when she disobeys an angel’s order not to look back at Sodom and Gomorrah as she flees, has no name in Torah, but a midrash (a Hebrew commentary on Torah) names her Edith. In the Talmud, the owl is a bad omen, though for the Greeks the little owl (Athene noctua) is a symbol of Athena. Bumah is the Arabic term for the little owl.

Aziraphale creates a ewe dæmon for himself as a tribute to the great Jewish matriarch Rachel (which means ewe.) There is too much to say about Rachel to do her justice here, but she was a great woman and Aziraphale has good reason to admire her.

Part 3.

It’s kind of a delicate matter to pick out a dæmon for Jesus, but tbh I’m Jewish and I’m not especially theologically bothered about it. I chose a dove because 1) doves were a traditional sacrificial animal at the time; 2) doves are a symbol of hope because a dove brought an olive branch to the Ark, signaling the end of the Flood; and 3) a dove is often the symbol of the Holy Spirit, and while this is probably some kind of deep-cut Christian heresy, it makes some kind of sense to think of the Holy Spirit as Jesus’s dæmon. She’s named Zipporah because it means “little bird” in Hebrew.

Crowley’s dæmon is named Lilith because... well, there’s entire dissertations to be said about Lilith, but in Jewish folklore she is Adam’s first wife, before Eve, who became a demon when she refused to submit to Adam. As a demon, she is a seductress, a mother of demons, and a baby-eater (or at least baby-killer.) There’s a whole tradition of badass feminist takes on Lilith as a woman who refuses patriarchal rule and is literally demonized for it, which is exactly the counter-narrative Crowley is referencing with Lilith, especially since she is canonically female-presenting in this part of the story. (Lilith is also symbolized by an owl in the Jewish tradition, linking her to my version of Edith; see above.)

Aziraphale’s sheepdog dæmon is a reference to Psalm 23: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want / He maketh me to lie down in green pastures [...]”

Part 4.

Aziraphale guises his dæmon as a she-wolf to gain respect in Rome because according to the origin myth of Rome, Romulus, the founder of Rome, and his brother Remus, were suckled as children by a she-wolf.

Part 5.

First of all, all due credit to the fic You, Soft and Only for giving me the idea of Aziraphale and Crowley meeting in medieval times as a nun and a noblewoman, respectively.

The bible verse Aziraphale quotes is Luke 12:6.

As I explained in the endnotes of the fic, everything I wrote about the choir of sparrows and the Tree of Souls comes from Kabbalah, the Jewish mystic tradition. The myth of the Tree of Souls originates from Isaiah 57:16, where God talks about “the souls that I have made.” In the Talmud, this was interpreted to mean that God has already made all of the souls that will ever exist, and keeps them in some kind of treasury or storehouse. The Kabbalists ran with that and created this beautiful myth about a tree that drops souls on the Earth like ripe fruit, and a choir of sparrows that sings a song for every new soul. Crowley is really the one supernatural entity we meet in Good Omens who recognizes the value of individual human life, and thinks each soul worth its own celestial song.

I chose a swallow form for Edith mainly because of Psalm 84: “Yea, the sparrow hath found a house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at thine altars, O Lord.” Here, sparrows and swallows together represent righteous souls who flourish at God’s altars.

Also, in case anyone missed this subtext, when Crowley strokes Lilith’s wing and says it reminds her of something, but cuts herself off, she was going to say “It reminds me of my wings before I Fell.”

Finally, when Aziraphale has her impassioned spiel about Edith, what she’s carefully not quite saying about Lot is that when the mob threatened to gang-rape the angels in his home, he offered up his daughters for the mob to gang-rape instead.

Part 6.

Salamanders are, traditionally, immune to hellfire.

In Torah, leopards are pointed out as dangerous, swift, and cunning. But as it is said in Jeremiah 13:23, “Can a leopard change his spots?” Gabriel is asserting his power by manifesting a leopard dæmon, but he is also showing his immutability and resistance to change.

Part 7.

Naamah means “pleasant” in Hebrew, but it is also the name of a female demon, according to Kabbalah.

Edith is a rooster in this part because: 1) in the Kabbalistic tradition, the rooster is a messenger of God who calls people to their morning prayers and supposedly banishes the demons of the night; 2) in the Talmud, the rooster is considered vain, impudent, and lustful because of his fine colors and his relentless pursuit of hens; 3) roosters were supposedly not allowed in the Temple in Jerusalem because they eat food from the ground that might make them unclean (a reference to the scene with Aziraphale and Gabriel) and 4) a rooster is also called a cock, and sometimes Aziraphale likes to show Crowley his cock in the back of the bookshop.

Part 8.

I already explained Edith’s serpent form in the endnotes of the fic, though I will add that serpents, like roosters, are considered unclean because they eat food from the dirt (sullying his celestial body with gross matter.) They are also considered a symbol of jealousy, as the serpent supposedly stirred up jealousy in the relationship between Adam and Eve (and I would argue that jealousy is a defining characteristic of Aziraphale.)

Aziraphale’s quote “Easier than air with air, if spirits embrace” is from Milton’s Paradise Lost, a major influence on Good Omens.

King David loved his friend Jonathan. People have been reading a love story between these two men for as long as there’s been a Bible. It’s hard not to, with passages like “Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was upon him, and gave it to David, and his garments, even to his sword, and to his bow, and to his girdle.” (Samuel 18) I reference the great Jewish songwriter Leonard Cohen in Aziraphale’s description of David and Jonathan touching each other’s dæmons. His song “Hallelujah” is about King David, among other things, and he sings, “Your faith was strong but you needed proof / You saw her bathing on the roof / Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.”

#good omens #judaism #daemons #daemon au #yes I really do put this amount of thought into my daemonfic

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calpatine · 8 years ago

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Accidentally in Love

A Comedy of Errors in Exothermic Reactions

Pairing: Cullen/f!Trevelyan Rating: SFW this chapter, but warnings for a liberal application of swear words. Summary: Modern AU, inspired by too much Real Genius and too many romcoms. Evelyn Trevelyan, a PhD candidate and all-around science nerd, meets Cullen Rutherford, a civil engineering major on the GI Bill, when he shows up for her tutoring session. If Evie didn't have bad luck, she'd have no luck at all. Notes: So the reason why I do not write fic is because fic is HARD and I am LAZY. But I do get things done eventually! Thanks for sticking around, I appreciate it. Chapter artwork here by the incomparable @feylen, who is an infinite delight.

(Previous Chapter) (AO3)

Chapter 2: Good to Be Alive (Hallelujah)

Evelyn had made it halfway through her first lecture Friday morning before she had the horrified realization that while she'd given Cullen her number, she'd completely neglected to ask for his -- and that was, of course, a complete catastrophe. At the break, she immediately pushed her way into the hallway and called Varric.

He picked up right before it went to voicemail. "God's balls, do you know what time it is?"

Unfortunately for him, she had no time for any whining that wasn't hers. "Varric, you have to help me."

"Are you literally on fire?" She heard a rustling noise that may or may not have been Varric making rude gestures at the phone. "Because unless you are literally on fire, I don't have to do anything at eight thirty in the fucking morning." She was almost positive he was indeed making rude gestures at the phone.

She tapped her fingers on the railing in front of her. "You have Cullen's number, right? Of course you have Cullen's number. You have everyone's number. You have to give it to me."

"Well, princess, I believe you will find that to be false."

"Wait, what?" Evelyn pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to stare at the display and make sure she hadn't called someone else by mistake because surely the real Varric would never let her down like this. "Why not?"

"He has your number, right?"

"Yeah?"

"And you're doing dinner tomorrow?"

"Yeah." She switched ears, flipping the phone around just to have something to do with her hands, and heard him sigh.

"That means if I give you his number now, you will spend the next thirty hours sending him increasingly unhinged and ridiculous texts while you try to psych yourself out of hooking up with a dude who seems nice and would probably be pretty good for you."

Evelyn was quiet for a moment and let that sink in. "Not all thirty," she finally said. "I'd sleep somewhere in there."

"Princess. Breathe. Calm the hell down. Don't you have lab today? Go to lab, forget about this for now."

The sheer sterility of the hallway mocked her with a blank canvas of everything that could possibly go wrong. "But what if --"

"No. Stop. Go bang some atoms together, and maybe if you ask really nicely someone tall, blond, and curly will bang your atoms together later on."

"Varric!" She burst into laughter so sudden and unexpected that a passerby was startled into asking if she was all right and had to be shooed away. "That's horrible!"

"There, see? Isn't that much better?"

"Actually yes, yes it is," Evelyn said after a moment, pleased to discover that this was totally true. She still wanted that number, but she felt much less like a raving freak about it. "You're a good friend, Varric."

"It's my job to save you from yourself, princess. Now go do your thing and do not ever, ever call me before ten o'clock ever again."

She couldn't resist a final jab. "What if I'm literally on fire?"

"Unless you're literally on fire."

"Thanks, man. Love you."

"Back atcha, princess."

Evelyn swiped the call off and slid the phone back into her pocket, then did her best to make it to the lab without worrying about big brown eyes and how catastrophically poorly their dinner date could possibly go. She'd already done everything but spill something directly on him, so surely that was the worst possible thing that could happen and since that wasn't entirely that bad, she could totally stop worrying.

That logic was actually successful for quite some time, even through her lab work, dinner, and an evening curled up with a draft of her dissertation notes. It took some personal convincing to not needle Varric again the next morning, but she buried herself in work even though it would totally have been worth it to call him at eight again. In fact, she was focused enough on her research that when the default message chime on her phone went off around lunchtime she was startled into frowning at the unknown number. Evelyn had carefully selected different chimes for every member of her social circle so default usually meant random solicitation, but when she swiped the phone on she had to stare at the text for a few moments.

H = E + p V

If that was an ad, it was the strangest one she'd ever seen. In fact, it looked less like some kind of scam and more like the formula for enthalpy, and why some unknown number would be texting her thermodynamic functions --

Her train of thought fragmented into a bubbling, delighted laugh, and she immediately added the new contact and thumbed out a reply.thrmodymnics! obvs thinkin of me :D

It was some time before a reply buzzed back, but when she read the message she understood why. Working on coursework on break, was reading through your notes and wanted to say hello. I'm really looking forward to seeing you tonight. Absolutely perfect spelling and grammar in a text message, and she'd seen his phone; that thing was a flip phone, for god's sake, so ancient it didn't even have a real keyboard and probably took him a million years to type on it. It was a little thing, but definitely flattering.

Also, he was looking forward to seeing her again, which was more than just flattering. me 2! hahahahahahaaah varic can suck it :D :D she sent back. Limiting herself to only two emoticons was a triumph of will, but Evelyn still stared hard at her phone for what seemed like forever to resist the urge to send even more.

The cheerful Cullen-assigned chime rang again just before Evelyn was about to snap and send a series of smileyfaces of varying hues and expressions just to break the tension. Sorry, I have to go back to work. Is it still good for me to come by around seven?

def look 4wrd 2 it she sent back, and then immediately set her phone aside before she could go off on one of the unhinged tangents Varric warned her against. She eyed the clock; seven meant she had time to change her clothes at least four times and do her makeup twice. It was always best to approach second-guessing one's self logically and with decent limits.

That was where her roommate found her at t-minus fifteen minutes amidst the wreckage of her closet. "Holy mighty fuck, have we been robbed?"

"No," Evelyn said miserably. "I have a date."

Sera's eyes narrowed. "You look like shite. Do I gotta stab somebody or something to get you out of it?"

Evelyn shook her head. "No! No, it's not that. It's just... I couldn't decide where to make reservations for, and then I thought maybe dropping right into a place that needed reservations wasn't the best idea for a first date even though you know how I feel about candles and wine." She shrugged, a weak flick of a movement that echoed her utter defeat. "But without knowing where I was taking him I couldn't get dressed, and then I ripped up my closet thinking I'd find something and that would decide me on dinner, and now I'm babbling in my underwear and he will be here any minute and my life is endless tragedy."

"Just go down there with your tits hanging out and you'll have him eating out of your hand, yeah?" For Sera, the world was very simple. Evelyn, however, responded with an affected side-eye that had Sera throwing up her hands in disgust. "Oh, for fuck's sake." She waded through the pile of clothing detritus and flung her choices into Evelyn's lap. "These jeans make your arse look amazing; keep the top three buttons on the shirt open for some acceptable tit action. Order in some decent pizza, mainline Netflix, and light your own fucking candles. God, Evie."

Evelyn's sense of relief was a physical thing. "Oh my god, you're brilliant."

Sera just rolled her eyes and skipped down the stairs to her basement apartment, muttering under her breath about smart people with no goddamned sense.

A quick shimmy into the directed jeans, some eyeliner, and a call to Fino's for an extra-large pepperoni later, the doorbell rang and the only thing that saved Evelyn from skidding around the corner and into the wall in her haste was actually having remembered to fasten the straps on her shoes. She swung the door open a little too forcefully, still in the process of catching her breath, and almost sagged against the jam. "Hey," she said, trying for exaggerated calm.

Cullen had brought flowers. He was in a tie, again, and carrying flowers, a bouquet of daffodils and carnations. "Hi," he said with that quirked half-smile that made her breath catch, and she giggled like an over-shy idiot before covering her mouth to try and keep it together as he held the flowers out to her. "Thanks for not screaming this time."

Evelyn took the flowers and held the door open, gesturing for him to come in. "These are beautiful. You're not going to let me live that one down, are you?"

"Would you, if you were me?" He grinned at her, flashing a dimple and, to Evelyn's mind, playing dirty. "It was pretty memorable."

She made a disappointed noise as she wandered into the kitchen, Cullen following behind like a particularly tall and well-built duckling as she stretched on tiptoes to get a vase off the top shelf. "'Memorable' is not precisely what a girl dreams a cute boy is going to call her, you know."

Cullen reached over her shoulder and pulled it down easily, presenting it with a flourish. "You surely don't prefer forgettable? But I could come up with an entire host of adjectives if you'd like." She looked up and could have sworn that he was blushing, and he was definitely doing that thing with his hair again. "I've been thinking about it. A little. Maybe. Just these past couple of days or so."

"I'm terrible with adjectives, so you can help me out over dinner." Evelyn carried the vase, now festooned with flowers, out to the dining table and placed it carefully and precisely in the center alongside a steaming pizza box. "And I hope you are cool with Fino's pepperoni because as of twenty minutes ago I didn't even have pants on."

"Fino's delivers? That's amazing! I will never buy groceries again. And you know, I'm going to keep talking about how amazing Fino's is because it is much too soon for me to think about you not wearing pants." It was definite: Cullen was blushing, and as Evelyn turned to lay out plates on the table she saw his eyes keep snapping away from her to stare fixedly at the ceiling. Well, at least Sera had been right about the jeans.

"They don't actually deliver," Evelyn said with a grin. "But I just give them Varric's name and they fall all over themselves. It's amazing. I make a damn fine pizza, but I only just came up with this idea and that isn't enough time for the dough to rise. Have a seat."

Cullen slid into the same chair he'd claimed for poker night, and Evelyn fetched Varric's shiraz bribe and a pair of glasses. When she started to pour, he shook his head. "Oh, no thank you. I don't drink."

She stared for a minute and then very slowly slid both glasses in front of her own plate. "Don't you work in a bar?"

"I work at the door, not behind the actual bar." He cleared his throat and helped himself to pizza. "For what it's worth, that's only one job. I also do some training at the gym on campus and volunteer at the VA twice a week alongside the monthly reservist duties."

"The VA? You're a vet?"

He grinned at her, nothing more than a quirk of that scarred lip, and Evelyn felt her stomach drop. "Really? That's the part you focus on?"

Evelyn saluted him with her wine glass. "I need to think about your biceps probably much the same way you need to think about my pants. The vet thing is way safer, trust me."

With a smiling nod, he conceded her point. "I joined the army right out of high school, and did three tours in Afghanistan."

Well, that answered one of Evelyn's mathematical puzzles. "And that's why you're not a teeny little freshman in Chem 101."

"That's why I'm not a teeny little freshman in Chem 101." He shrugged. "Well, I was never really teeny, even when I was little."

"Three tours, though?" She cocked her head a little, looking him over. "Jesus."

Cullen shrugged. "It was always something I wanted to do, even as a kid. Protecting people, serving the country -- it was a dream. And I kept going back because I still believed in that, even when it didn't turn out the way I expected." he kept his eyes down on his plate, only occasionally flicking his gaze up over her head, past her shoulder -- anywhere but her face. "What about you?"

Evelyn allowed the subject change because even she knew better than to pry at something so obviously uncomfortable on a first date. "Oh, I blew up part of the cellar when I was six and I haven't been out of the interesting classes in school since," she said with an airy wave, like massive explosions were no big deal. "Eventually I'll finish up my dissertation and have to decide what I want to be when I grow up, but until then chemistry tutoring is serving me pretty well."

They continued on in that vein through dinner, covering all the bases of small talk: he was in Civil Engineering, and she was in Theoretical Physics; they both had three siblings, though she had two brothers and him two sisters; his family still enjoyed tangible physical correspondence and sent letters once a week, and she had her mother's ringtone set to the Imperial March.

Cullen threw back his head and laughed, that dimple flashing again and the briefly uncomfortable moment was long gone like it'd never been. "Oh come on, she can't be that bad."

Evelyn made a face, turning down the corners of her mouth. "I'm not saying Talky Tina would trip her down the stairs or anything, but even Varric is scared of her."

He froze, and for a nanosecond she was afraid she'd said something inadvertently horrible. "Evie, did you just make a Twilight Zone reference?"

Her jaw dropped. "Did you just get my Twilight Zone reference?"

"Of course! Living Doll, Telly Savalas." His grin was boyish and infectious, and Evelyn thought it was so glorious the only thing missing was its own swellingly triumphant musical score. "Man, I haven't seen those since they were airing them on PBS when I was a kid."

Oh, there was no way Evelyn was going to let that go, not when Netflix was available. "You're kidding. Come on, get your pizza, we're moving this to the living room and we are going to get our Rod Serling on." Evelyn exchanged her bottle of shiraz for two bottles of water and the living room remote, and they settled on the couch side-by-side to start up their old-school marathon. "Time Enough At Last is my favorite," she murmured as though imparting some profound and precious secret.

"Time Enough At Last is everyone's favorite," Cullen said, laughing, and she chucked him in the shoulder.

Hours flew by as they bonded over 1960s visions of the future, taking turns pointing out unrecognizably young actors in early roles and swapping childhood PBS memories. They had gradually shifted closer over the evening until their thighs were pressed together and every nerve ending on that side of Evelyn's body felt like they were on overdrive.

He had a way of looking directly at her while they were talking as though even the most inconsequential bullshit was interesting and important and the feeling of his regard was a weighty thing that felt not unlike a liquor buzz. It was so easy to meet his eyes and drown in that unfairly long-lashed gaze that she didn't even realize she'd been staring at him until he broke off mid-sentence to furrow his eyebrows at her. "What?"

Evelyn wanted desperately to play this cool. Her coolness was vital and paramount because Varric had an actual literal notebook of all of the ways her coolness had inevitably failed her in past relationships and this was too awesome to fuck up. Unfortunately, her small mental voice of social self-preservation was entirely silent, and so what came out of her mouth was the complete and unvarnished truth: "I would really like to kiss you right now."

Cullen's grin made her blood pound, holding as it did equal parts relief and trepidation. "Oh, thank god." Then his hand slid to the back of her neck, tangled in her hair, and pulled her close for a kiss that fuzzed out every last neuron.

Evelyn wasn't entirely sure when, exactly, she'd made the move to straddle his lap on the sofa, her hips bracketing his and kisses progressing to moaned featherings along his jaw; nor, really was she entirely aware of when she'd started unbuttoning her shirt, with his broad hands on her waist and thumbs stroking the bared skin over her hipbones, though it was probably about the same time his tie had come loose. She was, however, completely aware of when everything came to a screeching halt: when her roommate decided to surface from the depths of her studio and declare, brightly, "Well thank fuck you wore the pretty bra."

She and Cullen jumped apart like guilty teenagers, his sharp move to the right tangling up with hers to the left and sending her sliding gracelessly to the floor. "My god, are you all right?" He reached down for her, expression utterly mortified and the tips of his ears singed red. With an aborted laugh that he shifted to a throat clearing, he gave her hand a gentle tug. "So, uh, you have a roommate?"

Evelyn held her shirt closed with one hand and pulled herself up with the other, eyes screwed tightly shut. "Is she gone?" she stage-whispered. "Yes, I have a roommate, because I am a sucker who hates living alone. Tell me she's gone, or this is a horrible nightmare that I will wake up from at any second." She cracked one eye open and grinned at him. "Well. Not the kissing part. That was more dreamy than nightmarey."

"I'm in the kitchen and I'm seeing nothing," Sera sang back with a brassy cackle and a clatter of glassware. "And now I am leaving, so you can go back to slobbering!"

Cullen glanced at the clock over the television and ruffled his hand through his hair with a sigh, embarrassed amusement still stark on his face. "I don't mean to compromise your dignity and flee the scene of our crime, but I do have to be at work in four hours."

Evelyn rebuttoned her shirt with still-fumbly fingers, not even caring that the right side was jumped up a buttonhole. "You're fine. My dignity fled years ago, just ask Varric." She paused, reached for his hand, and gave it a squeeze. "Or, actually, don't. Let me keep some of my mystique."

They walked down the hallway to the foyer hand in hand, and it was interesting to feel comfortable, safe, and also like her blood was on fire. She didn't want to open the door, but couldn't think of a respectable way to suggest he stay, preferably in her bedroom and preferably with that tie on the floor or employed in a vastly more interesting way. "Cullen," Evelyn started hesitantly. "This is going to sound a little strange, but do you own a tuxedo?"

He was quiet for a long minute. "Something like. Why?"

Evelyn tightened her grip on his hand for a moment, then released it. "I need you to be my date at a wedding, but it's white tie and it's also total bullshit."

"Of course," Cullen said immediately, not even batting an eye at her claim of bullshit. "When?"

"Um." She winced. "Next weekend?"

"Are you serious?" he asked, staring at her with raised eyebrows.

"Deadly," Evelyn said, and couldn't keep every hint of dread out of her voice. "Varric already refused to go with me. I can't go alone or my mother will try and hook me up with someone and I am the most not interested in that."

Cullen cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, running a hand sheepishly through his mussed hair. "To be honest I find I'm not really interested in that either. Who's getting married?"

"My elder sister," she said, so pleased by even the most minor strains of reciprocal jealousy that she had to firmly hold the reins of her id before it did something stupid like ask him if he liked her liked her.

Cullen frowned, and Evelyn had another second to mentally catalog the differences between their respective familial feelings. "And you're not in the wedding?"

"Oh good god, no." She shuddered, mouth curled in exaggerated distaste. Were Sera still upstairs, Evelyn probably would have made a gagging noise to go with it just to make her laugh. "There's a week of parties with twee little cucumber sandwiches and Great Aunt Muffy and second cousins in fancy hats and I couldn't spend that much time away from the lab, so they let me off the hook for the pre-wedding crap. Just ceremony and reception, next Saturday night."

"You don't seriously have a Great Aunt Muffy," he said with a laugh. "Evie, no one seriously has a Great Aunt Muffy."

She shook her head. "No, I totally, totally do, but she's a blue-haired terror and I can't talk about her or you'll say no. I know it's last-minute and you have eleven million jobs but please say you'll come. I will personally..." Evelyn broke off, wracking her brain for something she could do to make this work. "...Get Varric to bribe someone to cover your shifts," was the best she could come up with. His loosened tie and that little triangle of skin at his throat were completely melting her brain. "Or -- whatever you need. I can't face this without someone sane and excruciatingly handsome with me."

His eyebrows flew up again in time with his deepening dimple in a self-satisfied grin. "You know you just said that out loud."

"Of course I did. I'm desperate." Evelyn shrugged, and it was her turn to look sheepish. "Look, I'll be real: it's probably going to suck, and I'm sure it's technically too soon to subject you to my family at all, let alone my family in white tie, but I promise I will make it up to you."

Cullen reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, trailing his fingertips along her cheekbone with a tantalizing gentleness that made her shiver. "I'll call in some favors. All day Saturday?" When she nodded, he leaned down and kissed her forehead like a blessing. "Please believe me when I say I am happy to spend any and all time with you."

She grabbed his tie and pulled him down for a searing kiss that might as well have made time stop entirely, and when they finally broke apart they were both having trouble catching their breath. "I had a really nice time tonight, Cullen," Evelyn said with a quiet earnestness that right before that exact moment she was pretty sure she didn't even possess. "Thank you for coming." A split-second after the words left her mouth she froze and tripped over her own tongue. "Over. Thank you for coming over. To my house. For dinner."

When he laughed, his entire face lit up and Evelyn decided then and there that it would be one of her life's missions to flip that switch whenever she could. "I knew what you meant," he murmured, and kissed her lightly in a sweet goodbye. "I'll see you Thursday?"

"Yes, Thursday," Evelyn said. "I promise not to stalk you before then, but I will probably text you eighty billion times. You have my permission to ignore me, I've seen your phone."

Cullen grinned down at her and Evelyn fought the urge to preen like a cat. "I'll see what I can do. Sleep well, Evie."

Evelyn gave up trying to play it cool and blew him a kiss like a dork as he turned to wave at the end of her drive. Oh yeah, she was definitely going to sleep well, with the best dreams.

#Cullen Rutherford #Inquisitor Trevelyan #dragon age fanfiction #Cullen x Trevelyan #au: college #au: modern #Cal writes stuff

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deanssexplorations · 8 years ago

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Teacher’s Pet

My freshman year in college I took a Psychology 101 course. My two best friends took it as well - my male friend Patrick and my female friend Nera (who I never did anything with by the way; we had a very close, sweet, and platonic run during college. Go figure.) The teacher was an attractive, young - 29-year old - post-graduate named Carrie. All the guys in class had a crush on her.

Patrick was extremely gregarious, and when Carrie visited the class sections, he and I stood out. Pretty soon he was dragging me to her office hours to get “extra help” on the assignments, although I knew his motivation was to flirt with Carrie.

One day, about three weeks into the semester, we had an office hours appointment that Patrick wasn’t able to make, so it was just me and Carrie. We talked through whatever question I had, although truth be told I was doing fine in the course and didn’t really need the help, and then she and I started chatting. Which wasn’t that unusual as she, Patrick, and I had already struck up an easy rapport. There was some movie in the theaters at the time, although I don’t recall what it was, that was somehow relevant to one of the three of our running jokes, and in a lighthearted way she suggested that she and I should go see it that weekend.

That was an interesting turn of events. But the way she suggested it was so casual and off-the-cuff that it seemed quite friendly and innocent. I was interested in the movie and I was definitely interested in spending time with her, so I agreed. And neither of us breathed a word to Patrick. Which was telling in and of itself.

We met that weekend, went to the movie, then found a grassy spot in a nearby park to hang out. The theater and park we chose - well, she chose - were several miles from campus and it was unlikely we would run into anyone we knew. After hanging and chatting in the sunshine we started kissing. The problem with writing these stories 30+ years after they happened is I forget some of the key details, like whether I initiated the kiss or whether she did, but it was obviously mutual, and thus began my relationship with my college psychology instructor.

We dated for the rest of the semester, which turned out to be a good three months or so. We saw each other three or four nights a week. I would join her after school or go to her apartment, where we would usually work out together, get something to eat, and nominally study/work together, but more often watch TV and/or make out.

We certainly fucked, although not right off the bat. It took a week or two to work up to that point. And not every date. But fuck we did. She was very petite with a tight little body and small perky breasts. We definitely had our share of fun in bed.

But it was rather odd, for several reasons. One odd part was the double life I found myself living. During the day I was a normal student, going to classes, hanging out with my friends. But when I was with her I was completely disconnected from the rest of my world. Only two people knew about our relationship - my roommate at the time (since I wasn’t coming home at nights), and Nera, who you will recall was the female best friend also in the class with me.

It was nice to confide in Nera, and we ended up having fun with the situation. She and I would sit in class, listening to Carrie give her lecture, and I would whisper to Nera what color Carrie’s underwear was that day. Or I would give Carrie movie lines to work into the lecture and Nera and I would wait for them, giving each other high-fives when we heard them.

Patrick had no clue that all this was going on. Carrie still came to the course sections and we still spoke up, but somehow Carrie and I were able to pull off the innocent act. At one point another guy confronted me in the school cafeteria and asked if I were going out with our psych teacher Carrie (my roommate had loose lips) and I just looked at him with a “yeah, you’re crazy, I so wish” look and he instantly let it go, completely believing me. Another favorite moment was when I was sitting on a couch in Carrie’s apartment studying for my psych midterm exam - the same test she was sitting on the other couch writing, at that exact same time.

For what it’s worth we/I never cheated, academically at least. The only rules we broke were teacher/student conduct policies. Fortunately I didn’t need the assistance; the class wasn’t that difficult and I was an engineering major so I wasn’t having any trouble.

But as the semester progressed the situation just got more and more odd and I felt like every time I went to her apartment I was checking reality at the door. The main reason had to do with her incredible penchant for procrastination. Her doctoral dissertation was due two weeks after the end of the semester - i.e. two weeks after the final exam of the class she was teaching and I was taking - and she hadn’t lifted a finger to get started on it yet. She had an idea of what she wanted to write about but she hadn’t done much in the way of research and had done nothing at all in the way of writing.

She explained to me when we first started dating that most people work on their dissertations for years and she was really behind and needed to get going on hers right away. To which I replied, great, I’m a good student, so let’s study together. I’ll be a good influence on you. She said that sounded good, but let’s get not get started just this minute, instead let’s go the gym first. That way she could clear her head. I protested but she had her way. Then it was well let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry. Then there’s a good show on TV. Then I’m too tired, it’s too late to start. And the entire evening would get frittered away without any progress on her dissertation.

My own study habits dipped a bit as well but I was able to make up for it the evenings we weren’t together. But she proceeded to procrastinate every single day I was with her for a nearly 3 month period - right up to the week before the final exam - when she still hadn’t written a single page of that dissertation.

Finally I had had enough. I felt like the lunatics had taken over the asylum. (And as an interesting side note, she was the first to share with me the anecdote that I’ve heard many times since that people get into psychology to figure out their own issues. At least she had that level of self-awareness. And she was right.) Beside, I needed to get some studying done with finals coming up and it was impossible to do so when I was around her. So, one week before the final exam, I told her I had had enough and that I had to break it off with her. She wasn’t happy about it, and I feared that she would seek retribution at grading time.

But fortunately my grade came in where it was supposed to. In retrospect I imagine that tampering with a grade would have presented a tremendous amount of risk for her and it just wasn’t worth it. Patrick never knew - he doesn’t to this day - and Nera and I enjoyed knowing looks and chuckles for years afterward. And Carrie, to her credit, buckled down and put in two weeks of all-nighters, writing constantly, and was able to complete her dissertation by the deadline and obtain her doctorate. After which she moved to Santa Barbara and found a lucrative calling in corporate behavioral research.

So all ended well, and I got a fun story out of it. Except that I left out my favorite part. A few weeks into our relationship it came out that I was the “other man.” She was cheating with me on another guy that she had been going out with - who turned out to be a different undergraduate student in the same class she was teaching. Who she also met during that semester, I guess also during office hours, or at one of the sections. It must have been during the first or second week of class, since she and I started dating the third week.

I guess she had a thing for her students.

#Fucked the teacher #She had a thing for her students #But man was it hot #Carrie

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meadowhilley · 8 years ago

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it’s back

Today, my friends, is World Cancer Day. How exactly does one celebrate such an occasion, you wonder? That’s actually what I’m writing to find out. For starters it seems like a fitting moment to break my nearly year-long silence and tell you It’s back.

Not the cancer—I’m still “free,” as far as anyone can tell. No, what’s back with a vengeance is the sensation of living with an ugly and insidious thing growing inside me. The Get-It-The-Fuck-Out-Of-Me urgency that two and a half years ago made me drop everything, fall into a blue vinyl chair, and start blogging straight through my chemo infusions.

I still can’t explain by what internal mechanism this revelation about my compromised physical state triggered a visceral awareness that I’d been living with a different sort of malignancy for decades—a tangled knot of repressed emotion growing more potent and far-reaching as I happily went about the manic business of being a working mom. Or how I understood that my ability to heal bodily was predicated on my willingness to undergo a mental purge. Or how I knew with absolute certainty what I needed to do, even in those foggy predawn moments before the diagnosis had fully resolved into a clear picture of what awaited me in the days and months ahead.

Whether it was some atavistic survival instinct that kicked in or what they (dismissively) chalk up to “women’s intuition,” whether it was divine inspiration or something closer to unhinged delusion, at the very moment I received The Bad News I found myself in A State of Grace, like in a primal garden scintillating with dew where knowledge hangs low on the branch, hungry for the right mouth.

Glutton that I am, I bit. And instantly I came to understand that my body was a book I’d been writing for years without ever stopping to read it. At the center of my story was this malignant enigma, a living organism pregnant with meaning whose tendrils reached greedily through the space-time of my inner landscape, looking to occupy all my vital sites.

Stopping its spread and reversing the cancer’s insidious creep was the obvious goal of our immediate coordinated response. But as my three doctors each took up their weapons—poison, blade, and fire—I lay low like a meadow-turned-battlefield, bracing myself for the onslaught and devising an alternate plan, knowing that the only way to truly best this beastly part of me that fed on darkness was to draw it out, into the light.

So I painted my face. Obviously. Spent a week wearing only dresses. Naturally. Loitered seductively at the mouth of what I guessed might be my deepest emotional cavern. Patiently. Until one day, in the small round mirror of my compact case, I glimpsed a dark shade emerging against a background of shadow. Taking a sultry step forward in my red two-inch heels, I watched discretely as it advanced with predatory appetite, hypnotized by the allure of an easy meal. And at the very moment it crouched to pounce, I turned to face my Beast-Me.

Go ahead, I told my cancerous self, feeling beautiful for once and more powerful than ever. Show me how ugly I am inside. You will not be the first.

My plan wasn’t particularly well-formed. I was totally winging it, to be honest. With hindsight though it’s possible to list the major steps of my cancer-fighting campaign as:

1. Perform strength to psych myself up for the encounter.

2. Position myself as bait.

3. Coax the unknown threat out of hiding.

4. Subject it to intense examination.

5. Force it to reveal its origins.

6. Love the thing to death.

All on my terms, in a place where I felt safe and strong and well supported.

In other words, I would write the cancer out of me.

Out, like, in the open. Words confided to a private journal were not going cut it. An invasive species so entrenched would have to be pulled up by the roots into the glaring light of day and subjected to full exposure. This pathogen and its attending pathos should be left to shrivel and wilt under public scrutiny, I understood, until having lost all potency conferred by me, their host, they would reveal their true, pathetic nature and leave me whole.

If you’re not an exhibitionist by nature, writing publicly about your intimate past and present is highly ill-advised. Maybe you’re someone who cares about what people think of you. Or maybe you have a family to protect, a job you’d like to keep, or competing interests and hobbies. In my case, all of these inhibiting factors were compounded by the muzzling effect of four hundred years of injustice perpetrated by the West, which we have systematically justified by painting the Other as radically different—a threat to be mastered, a contagion to be contained.

How could I possibly talk about my challenging 13-year relationship with my African ex-husband, who was also a Muslim, without perpetuating these longstanding stereotypes and adding fuel to the fire? How could I tell my story without doing more harm than good? Fully aware of the risk that my experience would be generalized and my words misinterpreted, I felt compelled to write all the same. Common sense and fear, I came to feel, were my greatest enemies. To build a bridge, you’ve got to reach dangerously across the gaping abyss.

All this to say that hitting “Post” was never a mindless gesture for me. It required a force of will that ran counter to reason, and caution, and instinct.

Announcing that I had cancer in a Facebook status update was admittedly a shameless bid for your attention, like dancing carelessly on a mountain ledge. But I wouldn’t have sought your attention if I didn’t think it was absolutely vital to my healing. You, dear friends, were the gentle sunlight that scorched my disease better than a daily dose of photon rays at +$3,000 a pop x 25 sizzling pops. It was because you agreed to bear witness to my self-designed form of treatment by reading me as I attempted to decipher the book of my body that I got better. You did that. Each one of you made a difference. And it didn’t cost us anything but time.

So now it’s back. That oh-shit-here-we-go-again feeling, like there’s some creature dragging its claws through my gut from the inside. Only this time I’m even more reluctant to write publicly. For one, I’ve been writing privately, trying to build a bigger bridge, in silence, and that jealous pursuit demands all the attention I can afford to give it.

But, UGH. The world changed two weeks ago just as it did two years back with the diagnosis, and ten years before that when my first marriage ended: abruptly, dramatically, alarmingly. A rug has just been pulled out from under our feet, and with my introvert laid out in utter shock, my extrovert showed up, a rival sibling looking to compete for the same scant resources of time and attention, demanding I Do Something Now.

Don’t! shouted my introvert, albeit weakly from the floor. Keep to yourself, it pleaded. Focus your angst inward. Don’t be so arrogant as to think you have something of value to say in the here and now. Lay low. Leave this one to the activists and experts.

Reasonable arguments, all. But here’s the thing: on the subject of hostile takeovers, I am something of an expert. I devoted my doctoral dissertation to groups who used writing as a means of liberating themselves from their longtime oppressors. I lived for six years in a country that had only achieved its independence a generation earlier. Even more instructive, I personally survived the experience of being colonized twice: first mentally, by my domineering ex, then physically, by the cancer, whose insidious advance reminded me so much of the guy’s subtle way of methodically getting me to give up my freedoms, one by one, until it seemed I had nothing left. Claiming that others would be better suited to speaking out against the authoritarian power grab by the big bully now occupying the White House, that someone else would do a better job describing the risks his tyrannical methods pose to our liberty and national character, it’s all just bullshit, a way of shirking my responsibility.

So it’s with a certain authority that I can assure you: the cancer plaguing us today may wear a name other than ER/PR HER2-Positive Invasive Ductile Carcinoma, but it is just as deadly. It’s not only an oppressive ex haunting my own little psyche, but our current President doing a serious number on our collective consciousness. This shit’s not just in me this time, but it’s in you, too. And it’s going to poison the world over if we don’t all stand up to stop it now.

One of my first thoughts on getting the diagnosis was, Did I bring this on myself? My ongoing attempt to answer that question without wallowing in self-loathing has brought me on the greatest journey of my life, towards healing. The same can be true for us as a country.

Yes, we brought this on ourselves. But we also have the means to fix it. We are all cause and cure both. Niit niit mooy garabam, the Wolof proverb goes. Other people are our own best medicine. We need to turn and face this ugliness together, give ourselves permission to speak out, and shout a resounding Fuck No as one. The disease may have found its way into US, but in no way is it a definitive reflection of who we are. Not if we refuse to play host to its toxic presence.

So how should we celebrate World Cancer Day? I’ve come up with a couple suggestions, based on personal experience:

1. Start by making yourself feel good and beautiful and strong.

2. Don’t be afraid to draw fire. Welcome discomfort. Actively displace yourself.

3. Coax this shared malignancy out into the open.

4. Take a good, hard look at it, understanding that it offers us the blessed gift of insight.

5. Figure out where it comes from, and how it managed to take root within us.

6. Spread beauty and love in abundance.

Writing was the tool that best fit my own hand, but everyone has a custom-made means of expression, an instrument perfectly suited to doing the patient work of parsing out what’s healthy in us from what is corrosive. My girls got a great kick out of the Turnip sign that recently sprang up just feet away from the spot on Main Street where an enormous Trump sign has for months been planted like a foreign flag, causing Brewster residents to wonder who we are as a community.

Me, I can’t wait to see what you all come up with.

#worldcancerday #trumpturnip #resist #blacklivesmatter #nowall #nobannowall #cancer #sanctuary #antigone #longwayhome

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