#sexism in the bible

[frangipani-wanderlust]

"So it's actually really bad when women are police/soldiers/[ANYTHING RELATED] because of [LONG PHILOSOPHICAL CIRCUMLOCUTION OF DUBIOUS ORIGIN OR SUPPORT]."

Hey, you know what's actually really bad? Morally?

Trying to tell another adult what valid careers they are allowed pursue. If a woman wants to be a soldier or a cop, your correct response is, "Good luck, I hope you succeed."

No, there is no door number B.

[cawareyoudoin]

It's so fun to be hyperfixated on a thing that has a pretty prominent mythological figure as one of the main characters.

Like, I recently saw a collection of french biblical comics published in a newspaper in the 50s, and there was angels creating stuff, and god moving the heavens with a handcrank (yes, really), and finally there was Adam and Eve, and, of course, the snake, drawn very cutely to be honest. And I was like oh wow, it's my buddy Crowley! Omg! Hii!!!

It's embarrassing what having blorbos does to my brain. But I like what it does to my brain.

[forsuperbang]

I have a, uhm, theory about why Eve was punished with childbirth. Not in the context of what happened with the forbidden fruit, but more as of why did humans, upon writing the Bible, thought that she must have been punished.

I think that, seeing how much pain women must be live through, they must have wondered why it was so. Obviously, if someone is to suffer a great deal, it couldn't be just because. There must have been a reason.

I'm a firm believer that we, as humans, need explanations, so an original sin made sense. If not, how fair would that be?

[kgdrendel]

The Surprising Elevation of Women in the Bible

The Bible was written by men during times in which men dominated thought and culture

I am reminded again in my daily reading of Scripture of the prominence of women in the life and ministry of Jesus. Every time I read through the Gospels, I see it. As I read through the Old Testament with eyes sensitized by the Gospels, I see the theme there also. This theme is somewhat, hidden, however. We have only committed to the idea that women should be equals of men in very modern times,…

[whats-in-a-sentence]

The founder and leader of the anti-slavery movement, William Wilberforce, specifically ruled women out of the campaign: 'For ladies to meet, to publish, to go from house to house stirring up petitions – these appear to me, proceedings unsuited to the female character as delineated in Scripture.'

"Normal Women: 900 Years of Making History" - Philippa Gregory

[liberty1776]

The Bible on Slavery, Sexism and Homosexuality -- Bishop N.T. Wright

[browneyedgremlingirl]

Whenever someone wants to go against the Bible for being sexist; they often talk about the creation of man and woman as a prime example.

The Bible says that Adam was created from the dust of the earth and God’s life giving breath. And in most modern translations it states that Eve was created from one of Adams ribs to be his “helper”.

But the original Hebrew word for ‘rib’ is Tzela (צ��ע) and it can be translated to mean both side and rib. (Can you see which direction the sexist men of the past might’ve wanted to take?)

But as for the word ‘helper’.

Tell me, when you help someone or do them a favor, do you feel less for it? Because you have up your own time and/or money to help out someone else, man or woman, do you somehow feel that you yourself have sunk in the eyes of the Lord or the world? True its not the best translation for modern day feminism, but why should we feel slighted by being referred to as the helpers of life.

The hard truth is that everyone was made different and we are all defined by so many things that only God could possibly know them all. And one of these differences are the different responsibilities given to us based on our natural gender.

The world is like a giant machine and it needs every person to play a different part to make the world effectively turn, no matter how ‘small’ or ‘demeaning’ your part might be.

[moonmoonthecrabking]

something that gets on my nerves a fair bit is christians who are fine with not believing in seven day creation because of context and genre and language but are unable to extend that same courtesy to women and queer people in the church. i am of course biased as a queer woman in the church, but this is my post and thus my perspective.

i think it’s just a bit… mean? to prove that you are capable of reading the Bible in context and do research, but hurt those who do the same thing about a different issue. because creation affects you; it’s a major part of how you see and understand the world, and it’s a hard thing to deal with when you can see the science and see that the Bible isn’t actually that strict on it, but traditionalists maintain the belief that specifically 7 day creation is the only way to be a christian. it’s directly applicable to your life and experiences.

but if you’re a straight, or a (amab) man, or both, why would women in the church apply to you? why would queerness apply to you? why not just parrot what you’ve heard growing up, without researching it for yourself or seeking other perspectives, because it’s not your lived experience?

this isn’t to say that by doing The Research two people can’t come to different conclusions, or that research is infallible. it’s not. but it hurts when people only care about things that affect them, or they know affects the people closest to them. it hurts that people shut down what isn’t their interpretation of the Bible when they’ve only been taught one. when people consider others unbiblical because of what they know.

[judasiscariotsfemalehysteria]

Some other interesting snippets I’ve found interpreting queer aspects of Judas! Cainites date back to the early years of Christianity, and although condemned by the Catholic Church, they’ve since been re-examined by religious scholars in a more positive light 🌟

Judas Iscariot: The Queer Iconoclast's Icon

With queer acceptance on the rise (at least compared to past decades), the experience of coming out of the closet has changed significantly. Coming out is often an occasion that calls for celebration, Pride is a corporate parade celebrated in every state with at least one major city. But for many queer people, particularly in the evangelical American south, coming out remains a traumatic ordeal (this is especially true for transgender youth). Coming out as queer means coming out as a liar and a traitor to everything you were raised to uphold. Within evangelical theology, one cannot embrace queer identity and be a Christian. One cannot belong in their community if one is not a Christian. To embrace your own queerness you must become an apostate in their eyes. To become an apostate is to be effectively excommunicated. With this experience in mind, it is not surprising that many queer people from Christian backgrounds have embraced the figure of Judas Iscariot.

An icon is an image of religious or political significance, and an iconoclast is someone who shatters an icon. For the purposes of this post, I am going to focus on icons representing saints and martyrs. The image and the person represented are both referred to as icons. The person depicted in the icon is an aspirational figure that one is meant to be inspired to emulate, a shorthand representation of a person at their idealized best. (This is not necessarily a bad thing, nearly every culture has icons of their own. Familiar queer icons include the likes of Marsha P. Johnson, Leslie Feinberg, and Sappho of Lesbos.) However, being upheld as an icon is not the same as being known as a full person. The icon is an inherently incomplete representation and can never be a complete, nuanced person.

A common experience among queer people, particularly in religious communities, is feeling the need to hide a part of themselves. But no matter how it manifests, queerness is not easy to hide and it only gets more painful over time. Being in the closet is more than simply neglecting to mention a preference. To be in the closet, first a closet must be built. Walls need to be constructed to protect ourselves from people who love us, and the most readily available materials are lies, secrecy, and deceit. While our real selves hide behind the constructed identity, the person we present as is one that meets the hegemonic expectations of cisgender heteronormativity, or at the very least respectable abstinence. The icon is a pretty picture, and we are rewarded with acceptance, but the fear of being outed is a prison. The only way to escape is to shatter that icon. 

Very little is known about Judas Iscariot within biblical canon. He seems to have been largely erased from the narrative outside of his famous betrayal kiss. The authors of the gospels did not see his experiences as relevant to the story, despite the magnitude of his role. To them he was nothing outside of a traitor. In popular culture his name is synonymous with betrayal, and his portrayal in biblical art is unflattering at best. Judas’s erasure is similar to what many queer people who are disowned by their family experience. Their picture is taken down from the wall and Judas’s story is unwritten. The life and love they shared with their family, everything about them that was inoffensive before is irrelevant. Judas is erased and so are they. All that remains is his icon, an image of a cold, heartless man who hated God and betrayed an innocent man.

One can easily speculate about Judas. It seems unlikely that he spent years in Jesus’s ministry scowling in the shadows and plotting his demise. He could not have truly betrayed Jesus if Jesus did not trust and love him. Some apocryphal literature suggests that Jesus was closer to him than the other disciples and personally asked him to turn him in so that his mission could be completed. In this interpretation, Judas’s betrayal is an act of sacrifice and devotion, sealed with a kiss. And people think he deserved to suffer in hell forever for it. Modern retellings are often more sympathetic to Judas. Many are told by secular artists (Jesus Christ Superstar, The Last Temptation of the Christ, Judas (Boom! Comics)), but notably The Chosen, which is created by an evangelical studio, has taken humanizing approach to his character. Through this media he has been given a new image and become a completely different icon.

A queer relationship with spirituality and religion is often complex and deeply painful. Progressive theology can be healing and while I am not Christian myself I do enjoy engaging with it, but it doesn’t change the fact that this year at Pride, three different people told me that I deserve to burn in hell as they held a Bible in the air. I went to a Christian college and I had friends who were afraid of losing their scholarships if they were outed. I attended a protest against banning books at my local library and was called a groomer to my face. These are people that shop at the same grocery stores that I do and ask me what church I attend when I am in line at McDonald’s. One man openly sneered and turned away when I answered I was attending an Episcopalian church at the time. Queer people are not welcome in their heaven. If Judas is in hell, he will find good company.

[nerdygaymormon]

Having religious beliefs doesn't mean people are homophobes. The Bible says it's a sin, there's no getting around that. It's not natural and LGBT people are always trying to groom children because you can't reproduce. You should check yourself, especially since you claim to be a Mormon. When I was growing up, we didn't hear about all these gay and trans people. You need to repent because surely this is a sign that the last days are here.

Wow, you packed so much ignorance and bigotry in just a few sentences.

You're telling me that an all-knowing, all-powerful God would allow so much variety in nature and in humans, only to be upset at homosexuality? Make it make sense

What's written in the Bible only has the authority that you and society give it, and it doesn't change the fact that some people are gay, lesbian, bi, trans, or whatever else. Most Christians ignore what the Bible says about food, about slavery, about polygamy, about divorce, about being rich, and they can choose to ignore what it says about particular sex acts if they wanted to.

Even if God has the exact opinion of homosexuality that you do, then I would not think of God as my Father but instead as my oppressor. I would need to separate myself from Him and His followers.

How can you say homosexuality isn't natural when it's been observed in over 1500 species of animals? It objectively IS natural. Nature affirms queerness.

The reason you think queer people are conditioning, or in your words, are "grooming" children is because that is what you do, you try to train them to be cis and straight, as if that can be taught. What you're teaching are gender roles which aren't related to biology. Letting boys wear pink, take dance lessons, and play with dolls and kitchen sets isn't going to make them queer. Basic life skills like cooking & child rearing aren't girl things. What you're actually doing is teaching your queer child that it's not safe to talk with their parents about this part of how they experience life.

Yes, I'm a Mormon, but the thing about religious beliefs is they are a choice and subject to individual interpretation. Not all Christians are homophobes because they don't ascribe to the homophobic beliefs that some other Christians believe. I can choose my religious beliefs but I didn't choose to be gay, white, tall, male, or right handed, so I'm not going to deny a key part of my nature just so you feel better about your homophobic beliefs. To disagree with an inherent trait in another human being is nonsensical. It's not logical to be biased against traits that aren't harmful and don't impact others. To do so would be to disagree with how God created them.

Why wouldn't you want society to be less oppressive? Is it because you have a vested interest in seeing a minority group suffer? Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, Islamophobia, antisemitism, xenophobia, and the like, do not live in the same space with decency, empathy, love, and logic.

You miss the days when it was easier to ignore and marginalize queer people? I also lived then. For most of my life I lived under laws that made gay sex illegal and also wouldn't allow me to get married. Opinions and beliefs like yours lead to oppressing people. Unfortunately, a lot of people feel that way and now have positions of power in our society and government. It's a scary time to be a queer person in the United States as transphobia and homophobia are normalized and a push is on to roll back the human rights of queer people. We are just normal humans who deserve the same dignity as others.

This world has had slavery, colonization, epidemics, natural disasters, and genocide. In the United States each year there are multiple school shootings, serial killers, and child abusers. Even with all that, you believe God sees queer people and thinks that humans have finally gone too far, time to wrap it up?

Yes, religious beliefs can be homophobic and I'm not going to apologize for saying that.

[melovibes57]

“You’re asexual, how are you a victim of religious extremism? You’re not doing anything.”

“Exactly, i’m not doing anything, meaning i’m not actively looking for a man to be my husband. I’m not interested in having sex and according to the bible YOU MUST PROCREATE. I’ve had men & some women tell me that women belong to men and it is their duty to become wives/mothers & to sexually satisfy men. I’ve also been told to grow up because sex is normal/natural and you must submit to a man.”

Any person who thinks asexuals are free from religious extremism or have never been victims of religious extremism are delusional (i think some people forgot that Aces are queer too). Acephobia comes in many forms sadly. Acephobia aside, this is straight up sexism too.

[lovergirlforjesus]

blogs that support sexism, DNI. female inferiority is not supported by the Bible. female submission to the Lord and to her husband is biblically supported, but so is mutual submission within marriage. love is not about superiority, inferiority, or domination. love is about giving yourselves to each other. 

i believe men and women are like apples and oranges. we are equal in value, worth, and humanity, but different. this does not mean that one is better or less than the other. both were created in the image of God. both are equally needed in society. please never imply that my account insinuates women are less than men. i believe in traditional love that appreciates our differences. ♡

on men and women: 

Genesis 1:27: "So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them."

Galatians 3:28: "There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus."

on love & marriage:

1 Peter 3:7 "In the same way, you husbands must give honor to your wives. Treat your wife with understanding as you live together. She may be weaker than you are, but she is your equal partner in God’s gift of new life. Treat her as you should so your prayers will not be hindered."

Genesis 2:24: "That is why a man leaves his father and mother and is united to his wife, and they become one flesh."

Ephesians 5:21: "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ."

1 Corinthians 7:3-4: “…The wife does not have authority over her own body, but yields it to her husband. In the same way, the husband does not have authority over his own body, but yields it to his wife."

1 Peter 3:7: "Husbands, in the same way be considerate as you live with your wives, and treat them with respect as the weaker partner and as heirs with you of the gracious gift of life, so that nothing will hinder your prayers."

[fandomnoire]

upcoming challengers fic: bet on losing dogs

The Bible tells you that love is patient and kind but it doesn't warn you that it's also a kind of sickness with teeth.

Art fucks you like he's trying to crawl inside; Patrick, like he's trying to devour; and Tashi like she's trying to rebuild an empire; and you, for all your affected indifference, orbit like a distant planet and try so hard to hold them all inside of you that the self-destruction is catching.

bet on losing dogs, a deliriously self-indulgent love letter to challengers, is an upcoming multi-chapter reader insert work.

rating: explicit

fandom: challengers

pairings: everyone/everyone in one iteration or another, the way god intended

featuring/cw (thus far, will be highlighted for each specific chapter): bougie bisexual brown girl reader (i love alliteration), mentions/themes of classism, racism, sexism, and internalized homophobia; assorted homoerotic yearnings; suicidal ideation and mentions/a scene of an attempt; mutual masturbation; double penetration; infidelity; drug use; manipulation as a love language; everyone is toxic, everyone is gay, everyone has a praise kink, and everyone is my baby (especially you, dear reader).

tennis divider by: @thecutestgrotto

[acearohippo]

What do you mean by Shen Jiu being female-coded? /genq

Hello! To preface, in a lot of fandom spheres calling any cis gendered character "[gender]-coded" tends to be negative, usually to highlight poor writing or usage of harmful stereotypes, i.e., male-coded women being arrogant and demeaning to other women or female-coded men being sensitive and the butt of jokes among other men. However, there are instances where it is done and, rather than promote negative gender stereotypes it rather... Emphasises a masculine and feminine natures that resonate with people.

I am not always good with words, but there is [gender]-coded that is basically thinly veiled sexism and there is [gender]-coded that is simply nature. Think along the terms of pre Christian colonialism, where many cultures and religions have masculine energy and feminine energy defined outside of biological gender.

I see SJ as female coded because of how the fandom reacts/reacted to him. We don't got a lot of info on him, canon wise, at least not without heavy (and unreliable) bias. But there is a stark difference to how fandom treats him compared to the other men in the story.

And I don't mean in the sense of "he deserved what he got/he deserved so much better" discourse that surrounds him, but how fandom understands him.

Depending on where you fall, the degree of SJ's childhood trauma could range from demeaning slavery with a historically usual amount of abuse and demands to underage sexual abuse and torture. Regardless, the common thread is that men have control over his autonomy. Men (and nobility) dictate what he does, how he dresses, what he will receive, and how others percieve him. This is something SJ does not escape, even when he becomes a Peak Lord, although the degree has lessened by this time. He fails not just because of his actions, but due to the words and judgement of people who only see him on surface level and, thus, scrutinise his every action as "evidence" to their preconceived judgement.

And boy does fandom run with this!

And it makes sense because, a huge portion of danmei demographics are women... Women who understand all too well the dangers a negative statement can have on their livlihood.

This is why Shen Jiu is female coded, to me. Qui Jianluo, Wu Yanzi, Yue Qingyuan, Luo Binghe, even Shen Yuan, etc etc all, in some way, have taken his autonomy. QJL and WYZ did it with their abuse and power over him, YQY did it by undermining him and placating him (while allowing the bad rumours and his bad behaviours to persist), LBH through his revenge (literally crippled him), Shen Yuan quite literally takes over his body and has no regard for its treatment for most of the story.

In fandom, I think its telling that Qi Qingqi, Mu Qingfan, and Liu Qingge also feature as a prominent antaongist that contribute to Shen Jiu's abysmal reputation. Unfortunately, the three kinds of people women should feel protected by and safe with- other women, doctors, and those who uphold justice- are some of the main contributors to the problems they face. They aren't taken seriously, they're ostracised or put down, they're ignored or labeled as over emotional.

Its also telling that, for most fanfics/discussions/art/etc where Shen Jiu is "redeemed" or given a second chance, the main reason why he suceeds is because others listen to him. They let him have a voice and respect it. He is able to advocate for himself and not be torn down or turned away. And if he is, usually there's a man that stands by his side and acts as the "ally" or "bridge" that gets people taking him seriously.

Or, him being attached to a well-respected man is enough for people to change their opinions. Fandom can't help but reflect real life in their works.

So, with all that being said... I understand that there's going to be people who think this is a "bad take" because I rely so heavily on how the fandom portrays Shen Jiu, and that's fine. There will always be Bible-thumpers in every piece of media we consume, and they're here for good reason. But I consume stories for the feelings they evoke and the influence they have on others. People make connections, that's just what we do, and this is the connection I made.

[germanpostwarmodern]

Since 2004 Gabriele Schor has been building up the corporate art collection of the Austrian Verbund AG, the country’s largest electricity provider, with a special focus on women artists and the feminist avant-garde of the 1970s. The coining of the latter term also goes back to Gabriele Schor who has been arguing for the acknowledgment of the term in art history and the public at large for years. Since the term „avant-garde“ characterizes modern artistic movements that assumed a vanguard role, it should apply to the feminist avant-garde as well: their protagonists are united by their pressing for changes in the existing social order of the art world and thus constitute an avant-garde movement. Schor brought to bear the term for the first time in 2010 when she staged „Feministische Avantgarde der 1970er-Jahre. Werke aus der Sammlung Verbund, Wien“ for the first time at Galleria nazionale d’arte moderna in Rome. Since then the exhibition traveled all over Europe and the accompanying eponymous publication has seen three and continuously expanded editions. The present volume is the latest edition, published by Prestel, and can justly be called „bible“: on 688 pages the book presents works of some 100 artists, among them Judy Chicago, Valie Export, Lynn Hershman Leeson, Cindy Sherman or Nil Yalter but also the lesser-known positions of Gerda Fassel, Birgit Jürgenssen or Senga Nengudi. Each of the artists is presented in brief, informative essays as well as works from the Verbund collection that cover a multitude of media from drawings over video to photography and performance. In her informative introduction Gabriele Schor provides a broad overview of the movement that came to life in the wake of the civil rights movements and the student movement. Appropriately she also doesn’t omit the multiple forms of discrimination of Black women, namely in the form of racism, sexism, class and the extensive intersectionality of the black feminist movement, circumstances the universalist, white feminist movement often excluded.

With the third edition of „Feministische Avantgarde der 1970er-Jahre. Werke aus der Sammlung Verbund, Wien“ Gabriele Schor and the numerous authors involved provide a true reference work that showcases both the diversity and the ingenuity of the movement. A must-have!

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Twenty Five

Tom Bennett x OFC

[Previous | Masterlist | Next]

Warnings: Strong Language, Angst, Smut, Violence, Depictions of War, Mentions of Death, Depictions of PTSD, Injury Detail, Era typical Sexism, Era typical Homophobia, Era typical racism, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Domestic Abuse (very brief), Depictions of Reproductive Health, Suicidal Thoughts, World on Fire Spoilers.

Words: 3.2K

Notes: Tom! Letters! Norman’s back! I’m back!

Dear Bess,

Thanks for your letter, and the photograph of Vera.

I’m glad Harry’s camera is coming in handy. Tell Cora to keep Vera for the day next time and take some of yourself that you couldn’t get done at the picture parlour. One in the nurse’s uniform? I’m on my fourth ship and the girls’ have got a wall on every one. Now, you know I’ve got an eye for a pretty face and a flash of rouge, but my girl you’re the bombshell of every boat. The boys didn’t believe me when I put one of your pictures up with the others, thought I’d stolen your photograph from cig packet. Told them that Rita Hayworth’s lucky you aren’t in show business or she’d be out of pocket. You’ll be getting that angry blush that I love right about now as you read this, but it’s true. Even caught one of the new ordinaries trying to sneak it off the wall and into his pocket.

Life on board is the same as it always is. The top brass are all ski-nosed and silver-spooned, but Thornton, the commodore, isn’t too bad. Plays cards with us sometimes in the mess. He’s not supposed to but I reckon we’re more fun than the captain and the vice-admiral. They’re fair men and sound in charge but they don’t get much time allowing, being in charge, and we never see them on the chance they take an hour or two.

I even see Norman on occasion. We were in port a few weeks back and I heard someone shouting my name. For half a moment I had the urge to run. Father Michael caught me kissing Sarah Brown behind the pews back in ’34 and the shout of my name was almost as loud as the smack he gave my arse with the altar bible. Still hear the echoes now, the old codger. Well, I turned around and there was Norman running towards me. Was in that skirmish with the Bismark back in May. Reckon we’re the luckiest bastards in the Royal navy. He’s got a dirty great scar on his chin from the shrapnel that I know Dot will love. I haven’t forgotten that I promised to bring her back a sailor. Well, now he’s on one of the other battleships we’re in fleet with. Can’t tell you the names, or whereabouts, but one day I’ll bring you here. Never known heat like it in Longsight. Almost Christmas and I’m as tanned as your tights. Best not think about your legs too long or I’ll never finish this letter.

I’ve been knocked down a post again, but there’s rumour it’s temporary and I’ll be back to artificer by the end if the day. Cooke, the captain, was making the rounds and came by to tell us of a change to the day’s manoeuvres. Well, he caught me hiding a bag of change under my roommate’s bunk. Asked where I got it from and I said I’d won it in a hand of poker with some of the other lads. Reports of one of the ordinaries having their first pay packet stolen were greatly overexaggerated – he’d bet it on a bluff and lost, and so I was stripped of my new stripes as quick as I’d got them. What Cooke doesn’t know is that the aforementioned Commodore Thornton was playing a round that night, and so was Davies, the ship’s chaplain. He’s got a nose for poker and can’t help it if eighteen year old ordinaries bet their first packet on a hand of poker to fit in with the regulars. Of course, he won the hand and it’s doesn’t look too good if a man of the church is gambling on a ship of His Majesty’s Navy, does it? So he asked me to hide the earnings until he could collect them later in the day. Just so happened the captain caught me first and thought I’d won the hand. I wasn’t going to let the chaplain get in trouble now was I? So, my love, I’ve been demoted. But the distinguished service medal and a chaplain in your debt works wonders. It won’t last long.

We left the coast yesterday and have been sailing on open water today. We’ve two other battleships with us, and a few smaller boats. Heard rumour that one has a crew on from Pathé. You might see me on the silver screen next time you’re down the picture house! The air is warm, the sky is clear, the drink here is stronger than any I’ve had and there’s nothing surrounding us but sea. I’ll be home sooner than you know it, and God I can’t wait to be down the Palais again. The girls here aren’t like they are in France or Manchester. No dancing, no music, no fun. But I suppose I wouldn’t feel like dancing, with what they’ve seen. I’ll try and write when we’re homebound, will you girls meet me at the station with rouge and a hamper? God knows the Vaughns can put a smile on a fella’s face. Give Dot and Cora a kiss from me, and Roger a handshake. If he’s got no best man yet, tell him to wait until the Elizabeth’s are back – he’ll know what I mean. Sing Vera a lullaby and tell her Uncle Tom will be home soon. As for you, chin up and eyes straight. You’re magic and I’ll have you smiling again soon.

Yours, eagerly,

Tom.

Tom Bennett hastily folded the letter and stuffed it inside an envelope.

“D’you know, you had a dopey smile on your face all half hour as you was writing that,”

Tom smirked, jumped down from his bunk and good-naturedly tapped the envelope on his cabin-mate’s nose. “Least I got someone to write to,”

The other man whistled lowly and gestured to the letter. “Your girl got any sisters?”

“Two,” Tom said as he straightened his cap atop his carefully combed hair and made to open the door. “But one’s spoken for, engaged to a fella from the RAF, and I’ve promised a friend to the other. Sorry mate,”

“Shame.” The sullenness of the word was belied by the smile that accompanied it. Arthur Slade was a tall and rangy man of about thirty from the west country. Prior to the war he had been a fisherman and had taken to the navy as a duck to water, excepting the fact he preferred close quarters with a gutting knife to at-range combat. Tanned from years at sea, his brown hair was bleaching at the tip, and his sun-reddened nose and cheeks combined with his loping grace gave him the air of one just back from holiday. A few worn tattoos lined his left knuckles and arm, owing to the fact he had done them himself with a sharpened goose quill. Despite this outward appearance of labour hewn, inky sinew, however, he was something of a rarity. Not prone to outbursts of anger or joy, he sat somewhere comfortably in the middle; a man of whom you could happily spend an afternoon in companionable silence, watching the world go by.

“Your ‘chief ‘s up at the back,” he said, indicating slowly to Tom’s neck. Tom fixed the bowed scarf of his uniform and, with a wink to Slade, snuck from the room.

The walk towards the great cabin from the below deck took Tom through the mess hall. As always, seamen were at various posts enjoying their downtime before the bell rang to signal a change of shift. Many were crouched over a table or else an upturned bucket, crafting letters to home. One sat with a dwindling cigarette between his lips, reading over his words under his breath. He nodded to Tom as he passed. A scattering of midshipmen chattered self-importantly; we not merely seaman, we’re officers in the making. The gunners and artificers of Tom’s rotation were at the centre of the low-ceiling room, leant against the water pipe that split the room and was bedecked in photographs of women. The eldest stood with his leg propped against a chair, tuning a left-handed guitar. The others were playing cards.

“Looking sharp, Bennett.” An artificer looked up from his cards at Tom’s starched uniform.

“Heard you got a debt to pay in,” The other said, winking.

“Wish me luck, lads.” Tom doffed his cap as he strode by. A few of the new recruits watched on admiringly, looking away as Tom passed them. That’s the one who survived River Plate and Dunkirk.

Tom supposed he should have been nervous. Supposed that a year ago, he would have been. Perhaps he should have put that in his letter, didn’t Bess love it when he told her that on those rare occasions, he was human too? But now, on his way to the captain’s cabin with a commodore counted amongst friends, a gambling chaplain in his debt, snivelling ordinary seamen awed by his very presence and the Mediterranean sun awaiting him above deck, it was hard to feel tense.

One of the boat’s few marines was stood sentinel at the great cabin when Tom arrived. An imperious man the size of a barn door, he looked stiffly down his broken nose at Tom, scanning his low-ranking uniform from shining boot to gleaming cap.

“Second time this week.”

“I’d say it’s the last but I’m too fucking scared of you to lie.” They stared at each other a moment, before the marine’s face broke into a smile.  

“Best of luck, Bennett.” The marine rapped on the door and a lofty sound of ascent came from the other side. Standing upright and thinking of Douglas, Tom entered.

“Bennett,” Cooke, in all his regalia, sat upright behind his desk. Tom anticipated as much. What he hadn’t expected was for him to be flanked by Thornton and Davies. Tom raised his arm in salute to the captain, though his eyes flicked between the commodore and the chaplain with glee. Thornton, with his public-school good looks, smiled slyly at Tom. Davies was wringing his hands uncomfortably. “This is only the second time you have been in the great cabin this week.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the fourth since you boarded this ship.”

“Yes, sir.”

At this, Cooke set down the maps he was looking at and directed his gaze at Tom. “You’re a fine sailor, Bennett. And the crew seem to like you. All the makings of a leader. But God willing, if you are to see out this war in the navy, you surely don’t want to spend your whole time as an able seaman?”

“No, sir.”

“I was doubtful when you first joined, but Dunkirk was a hell of an operation. You joined the resistance in France for a while to evade capture, is that right?”

Tom smiled, thinking of his time there. He was Monsieur Laurent Proulx then. And what of Claudette, as was? Was she still alive? He hoped so. That girl could have run the resistance on her own. “Yes, sir. Though for my part, I did very little. Without the French and Spanish I’d never have made it back to Manchester.”

“Mm,” Cooke kept his gaze steady. “A humble man too.” Behind him, the commodore smirked. Tom bowed his head to hide his own smile. “Of course, River Plate and the distinguished service medal add a great deal to your short-” he emphasised the word. “-career in the navy.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“But this constant yo-yoing between positions cannot stand, Bennett. Making ordinary to able is of course expected from your record, but the trust we have placed in you must be reflected. Commodore Thornton here vouched for your position as an artificer. You understand, this position is equal to a petty officer?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And there are many men who would do well in your position. Envy your position.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then you must stop this nonsense. The Barham is an Elizabeth-class battleship and we expect the best service from all our men. You were first stripped of artificer, 4th class, due to a ‘prank’, we shall call it, involving the sequestration of all forks from the canteen over a period of two weeks.”

“An ill-advised way to pass the time,” Tom added with a laugh. “Sir,” he corrected himself. It was true. Enlisting Arthur and a few other gunners, they had slowly begun stashing them in their pockets and hiding them in the control room. Of course, when the cook discovered the dwindling supply and announced to the mess that the auxiliary had messed up the numbers, people began keeping their own. And so, the forks continued to disappear. The next day, Tom and Arthur drafted a note from the captain.

“All hands beware! Renegade forks have escaped from the mess decks and are reported to be at large. Do not apprehend. These forks should be considered disobedient and unruly. If seen, any confrontation should be avoided and the Fork Apprehension Rehabilitation Team (FART) alerted immediately. Captain G Cooke.”

Captain Cooke ignored Tom’s outburst of un-navy-like before and continued. “The first time you were in this cabin was due to fighting, and the last demotion, was due to the stealing of a new ordinary’s shore leave packet.” At this, Davies shifted uncomfortably. “Now the good chaplain here has told me that this wasn’t quite the case.”

Tom answered with more uncertainty. “No, sir?”

“Please tell me, Bennett, in your own words, what truly happened.”

Fuck. It’s all good and well when the chaplain owed you a favour, but not when he’s forgotten to tell you how he’s fixed them mess he put you in in the first place.

“A few of the boys and I were playing cards, sir. And one of the young lads bet his shore leave packet, as you know,” he looked to Davies, who nodded imperceptibly. “Well, it was won by a sailor on a different rotation than mine, don’t know his name.”

The captain raised his eyebrows. How convenient. Davies shuffled again. Tom continued.

“The bell was rung for change of rotation, so he left pretty sharpish, leaving the money on the table also. I took it and was hiding it under my bunk for safe keeping.”

“And why didn’t you tell me this when I caught you, Bennett?” said Cooke.

“Begging your pardon, sir, but I didn’t want anyone getting in any trouble.”

“Indeed,” the captain murmured. “Indeed. Well, that is certainly what the dear chaplain has told me. Another one, Bennett, who has vouched for you.”

“I’m very grateful, sir.”

“Very well, Bennett. Your rank is being noted in the log as artificer, 4th class, once more. Let it be known that if I see you in my cabin again, you will be spending your sea-going days as the cook’s mate. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Tom saluted to the captain and the commodore and made a swift exit with the chaplain.

“Jammy git,” said the marine.

“Never did nothing wrong, mate,” Tom said. “And by the way-” he turned to Davies. “Sixty percent of those winnings better be on my bunk by next rotation or you’ll be kissing the plank, never mind walking it.”

The light of the forecastle was bright when Tom surfaced from below deck. He checked his watch. Five minutes to three. Five minutes until he was due in the gunroom. Tom moved to port and looked out towards the Valiant, cruising steadily alongside them. A string of men were polishing the vessel, among them a certain sailor with a shrapnel scar. From his position on the Barham, Tom saw him check his watch and look up.

A giddy beam dimpled Tom’s cheeks as he raised his arm to wave. On the Valiant, Norman vigorously waved back. Every day, just before three, they went onto the upper decks of their ships to see each other. They’d done it first a few weeks back, when Norman had been on watch and saw Tom strolling the deck through his binoculars. It had become a strange sort of tradition. In the wake of Douglas’ death and Lois’ departure to Africa, Vera, Bess and the rest of the Vaughns were Tom’s only family now. Back in England. Here, they had to make their family. They’d seen so much in the two years of the war and lost so many people both here and at home. Tom wondered if the war ever ended; would Norman still be family? He’d never had a brother. Albie was the closest he’d ever had, and now he was gone too. He really would have to introduce Norman to Dot. They’d be bonded by real family then, not the navy. He paused in his waving at the thought.

That would mean marrying Bess.

Marry Bess.

Sure, he’d thought about it. Long before that night in the ginnel on new year’s eve. Many times after. Especially since Vera came along. But that had been married life, not a marriage. Now, there he was somewhere off the coast between Egypt and Crete, imaging Bess in a poky old church lit with sunlight, walking towards him in a white dress, jewelled with the colour of stained glass. The peel of the church bells and Vera scattering petals.

The bell rang.

Then the wailing of the alarm.

On the Valiant, Norman and his comrades were hurrying to their stations. Around Tom, sailors were doing the same. Mutters of “U-boat” and “the Jerries, they’ve found us”.

Cooke and Thornton swept passed him on their way to the bridge.

“Battle stations, Bennett.”

Notes: This is dry and I know it but I had to set the scene for the next two chapters. Reunion soon! Cooke was the real captain of the HMS Barham, the other names I just made up. The story of the missing forks is also true, based on a naval prank. You all know that my grandmothers served as the inspiration for this story, but there’s a picture of my grandfather playing a left-handed guitar during his time in the war, so I had to put that in 😊

I’m sorry it’s been so long. One of my goals is to write more and Mr H is encouraging me to do more of what I love. I live with a chronic illness and last year was my first in a full-time job since I got ill, so much of my spare time was spent exhausted. Hopefully, that’s behind me and there’ll be more room for writing!

This is a short one, to keep the pace light and to make me feel less daunted. The next will be longer, I promise. See you soon!

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @heimtathurs @exitpursuedbyavulcan @myfandomprompts @allthefandomtherapy @reblogedworks @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @adragonprinceswhore @notasockpuppetaccount @houseofdupree @marysucks-blog @chattylurker @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @nolongereviliwantlove @juse-emmaaa @mefools @aquakaris @its-actually-minicika @whoknows333 @arcielee @xo-arcie @honeymaltgelato @girlwith-thepearlearring @fangirlninja67 @evita-shelby @schmexie @blairfox04 @theoneeyedprince @targaryenrealnessdarling @cherievictore @helaenaluvr @cyeco13