#and in that time my game rolled dan as romantically interested in men

[lafcadiosadventures]

Madame Putiphar Groupread. Book Four, Chapter IV

The Portrait of a Jailer/The Jailer as a Prisoner-Philosopher

{ @sainteverge + @counterwiddershins }

Sarrasine, the king of toxic statue lovers of Romanticism (bc I say so). Illsutration for the comédie humaine by Bertal

This chapter is almost wholly a character study of the intriguing Governor of Sainte-Marguerite prison we met last chapter. Last chapter we heard the man speak of himself, this time the Borelian narrator takes the spotlight. Is he objective? (hah) In what traits do both portraits coincide or differ?

Like the prisoners in Kafka’s Penal Colony (another text which studies how the relationships between jailers/executioners and prisoners can take the guise of kindness) Deborah is given sweets. She is given figs (“from Provence” (vautrin lives rent free in my head)) and oranges, she is given good soap and perfumes. The plan to make Deborah forget she is a prisoner is on. After the list of gifts Debby recieves we get a short disclaimer from the narrator, asking us in a really ambivalent manner to appreciate the goodness of the jailer. We “must” he commands, be moved by the man’s noble and kind character. (like Deborah must. The reader is shackled next to her) This is a man with no falseness, the narrator says, and that type of integrity shines through. However, the narrator adds:

“Je ne vous prendrai point la main pour vous guider et vous faire descendre avec moi dans les replis tortueux de son cœur; nous ne nous égarerons point à la recherche de ses sentiments ténébreux.”

It’s terribly interesting of the narrator to define someone as completely honest and sincere and kind, and the add: “but we will not go looking for his dark side. We would get lost trying to find it, because it’s buried way, way deep”. it exists, (as it does in everyone) and we have seen some of it last chapter. This is a man who is kind and who has a dark side and does not act on it.

The man’s name is Cogolin. Or so the narrator thinks (the narrator starts to present himself as someone who might not remember the facts of the story correctly. The novel then, is presented as a real story, but what we’re reading is filtered through the narrator’s fallible faculties)

Our jailer who we must love is a beloved trope of Romantic literature: the DILF. The Vigorous Old Man. He is sixty five, but he is, according to the narrator, like Vautrin, like his model Cellini, like Victor Hugo (And some of his own father characters) like Balzac’s father who wrote treatises on longevity and stamina, etc. still petulant and vigorous. However this is Borel and nothing is ever predictable. His face is green. (which yes, to me he is part of the constellation of green-sexual men of the novel, like Villepastour and the glossy insectlike jailers in the Parc-aux-Cerfs) Despite his solar milieu his skin acqures a greenish hue which is symbolic, and complementary to the color of his wig: red. As we know, red hair is also hugely symbolic in this literature. Balzac and Dumas both cite the same popular saying about it in their DILF antihero novels. It considered to be the color of either angels or demons. It was mostly considered an undesireable color, so it's interesting that this guy is wearing it by choice.

Cogolin’s eyes are lively and expressive and black and are what bring his face to life/make it attractive, since its features are really otherwise unremarkable. (Borel shyly (!) tiptoes towards the magnetic gaze of the byronic antihero) He was jolly, fun, had a knack for puns, but like all provencals (*imagine me rolling my eyes here*) could be brusque. But he was truly (defensive emphasis by the narrator) good, and concientously took pains to make the lives of the condemned in his charge less painful. He gave the prisoners books and games, and frequently invited them to his fishing outings.

Which is why all his prisoners loved and respected him, but this love and respect could be well misinterpreted as fanaticism, by any outsider. (once again, I want to highlight the ambivalence of the narrator every time he says something positive about the jailer)

He had loved women in his youth to a point of excess (which might be how he earned the borel-symbolic green on his face) And despite having claimed being a man with one foot in the grave to reasure Deborah, the narrator now reveals he misses women. He is utterly alone (at least this points towards the fact that he doesn’t abuse female prisoners) He considers this deprivation a divine punishment for his youthful excesses. However he tries to console himself by readings which evoke a femenine character, such as Voltaire, Brantôme, Bussy-Rabutin, Madame de Sevigné.(voltaire needs no intro, Brantôme is a historian who writes with a libertine angle of intrigues in thencourt, so he could be reading him for the erotic angle. Bussy-Raboutin is an interesting choice… he’s a military man and writer who mocked Louis XIV’s loves with la Vallière, which earned him a stay in the bastille and then deported from france, like our old friend Fitz-Harris.He was a writer of humorous erotic chronucles of the court, and Mme de Sevigné’s cousin, who also requires no presentation. His prefered writers are into erotica and have had rushed with aristocratic authorities) He pays nightly visits to a bust of Ninon de Lenclos (another royal mistress celebrity)(I know you know statue loving is a common trope of French Romanticism, a necrophiliac/unheimlische love for masturbating over a mandatorily passive, mostly female looking inert object, an inheritance of Hoffmann’s Coppelia and/or the Gallatea Pygmalion myth) Nothing points to this guy be doing anything else than chastely placing a crown of fowers on Ninon’s bust. It’s a solitary religious rite that Deborah’s arrival disrupts. Once he has her, Ninon’s inanimate nature ceases to compell…

[sinkix]

《What your fav Haikyuu!! Character says about you│Nekoma Edition》

Yo-hoo! Here’s another part to this potential(?) series! I hope you enjoy the possible call-outs in some of these lmao. Writers block been kicking my ass recently but I had a lot of fun writing these. Enjoy <3

You can find the Karasuno ver. here 

✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧ ✧✧✧✧✧

Kuroo:

Have a hand fetish and will not say no to choking.

Daddy kink™

Will not accept anything below 6 inches.

More of a dog person but would love to own a black cat.

You drool over tattoos.

Your grades are mostly B’s but you know in your heart you deserve that A, and tbh you probably do. Chase ur goals bby.

Halloween is likely your favourite holiday.

You have to resist not to carve a dick into the pumpkin EvEry GodDAmN YeAr.

You either study for 6 hours consecutively or cannot study at all and you get very frustrated at this.

Have the potential to be a good leader and command the room but probably don’t put it to use as much as you should.

Your playlist parkours from sad 3am crying into your pillow songs to aggressive punk music you could rob a store to.

You like bad boys who hang around bars and look like they would put out a cigarette on your forearm and call you a slut. Just stating facts sweaty xoxo.

Either dress very feminine and girly with a ‘smol girl uwu’ aesthetic or a hardass punk who would kick your ass for a can of beer no in between and tbh both are equally hot.

You’re a big softie at heart either way and just want to be held and told everything will be okay.

Ur a hoe for when people stroke your hair or caress your chin it’s your ultimate weakness.

Watched Rick & Morty.

Twice.

Sleeves rolled up veiny forearms and donning a silver watch are your muse and something you fantasise about frequently.

Most of your memes are shitty top text bottom texts that are somehow funny and I don’t understand why lmao.

You call someone ‘bro’ even if it’s someone you’re immensely attracted to.

Did someone say ties? No it’s just ur dirty ass thoughts thinking about that hot business dudes attire from across the street and how you wish they were tied around ur wrists.

Probably had a crush on Jeff the Killer as a tween and are relentlessly haunted by your old Wattpad library. 

Tbh any dark-haired dude with bedhead that screams rugged and probably not good for you is something that draws you like a moth to a flame.

You often question why every person you’ve fallen for has been a Scorpio and curse that tendency of yours.

Dw man they’re hot so I feel u.

Kenma:

Went through a ‘I’m not like other __’ phase and it’s something that you think about a lot and wish you didn’t.

Watched dan & phil as a kid.

Any mention of Pokemon has you turning into a rabid beast you get way too excited.

It’s cute though dw bby.

Pretty antisocial but interesting to talk to.

Your family often question how you’re able to sleep in till 3pm and judge you heavily for it.

Nocturnal night owl gang rise up.

Frequently have bags under your eyes but somehow manage to pull it off.

Listen to ASMR on the down-low and will never admit it to a single soul.

Frequently go on BL binges and have many related book marks.

You pray that someone will never find your laptop bc holy fuck the amount of smut on that.

You wear scarves & beanies even when it isn’t that cold outside.

100% went through a scene hair phase/attempted to.

You dye your hair a lot or REALLY want to.

You have a voice kink low-key so anyone with a pleasant/soothing sounding voice just gets u goin’.

Cats are your favourite animal and you either do or want to own several.

Would name them after video game/anime characters u fuckin nerd lol.

Speaking of cats ,you fantasise heavily about cat-boys and have a folder dedicated to them.

Oversized hoodies are your vibe and always ball the sleeve hems in your fist as a comfort mechanism.

Shopping centres are your worst nightmare and trigger your claustrophobia or social anxiety and honestly I feel that spiritually.

Have a cute sticky note collection.

You like a lot of music consisting of guitar and slow/soothing beats.

You also fw EDM/ techno on occasions.

Honestly wouldn’t wanna anger you since you have a seething temper when pushed far enough.

It’s the kinda temper that’s eerily quiet but no less terrifying, like the other person can tell you are graphically plotting their demise.

You love sleeping to the sound of rainfall and often play those nature ambience videos while you sleep.

Never tidy your sheets and it’s just a big scrunched up heap of fabric in the centre of your mattress most of the time.

Make your fucking bed.

Lev:

Your ships are chaotic and shamelessly controversial.

Would do something just for the sake of creating mayhem lmao.

You were the fucker who stuck their chewing gum under the desk, I see you.

Your brain never stops whirring it’s a constant hurricane of crackhead energy and you have no idea how to turn it off. 

Would eat a stick of pencil lead for $2

You don’t help your situation with the amount of coffee/energy drinks you consume.

The class clown who cries themselves to sleep.

Such a wholesome dumbass but somehow kinda intimidating??? 

Even if you’re not confident you can do something you’ll try anyway and honestly I respect that about you.

You !! use!!! a lot??!! of!! random punctuation!!! so you always??!?!? seem!!111!! excited!!!!!11!?

Every time you’ve ever tried to make a sandcastle it has failed.

You tried to eat the sand once but we don’t talk bout that.

You would  also pick up slugs and snails and chase your friends around with them.

Can never tell whether people are laughing with you or at you and while you don’t let it show it high-key bothers you when you’re laying alone in your room at night.

Not one to hold grudges, you carry a ‘shit happens’ mentality which is v good but it sometimes leads to people taking advantage of it or walking all over you.

Your meme collection is both questionable and horrifying.

Like how many cursed images and heavily distorted pictures does one person need.

Never organise the files on your PC/laptop so it looks like a complete dumpster fire.

The one at sleepovers who persistently woke everyone else up with their snickering and refusal to sleep till dawn.

For the love of Asahi charge your damn phone.

I see that red bar and ‘12%’

Charge it now.

Bought a plant one time, gave it a name and talked to it frequently.

It died not long after bc u forgot to fucking water it.

No one better ever make you responsible for a pet.

Type of person that when someone asks you to tag along on an endeavour no matter how stupid it is you will agree.

2am skydiving in france? hell yeah.

Midnight shopping spree and spending over half your pay check? count you in.

Exploring an abandoned hospital and performing an Ouija board to summon the demons of hell? you’re damn right you’ll be there.

I hope you have a mum friend by your side bc if not how are you still alive.

You sometimes put the milk in before the cereal and it’s something I’ll never forgive you for.

Yaku:

Very responsible and usually make the right decisions.

You do have moments where you act like a complete dumbass though.

Like u go from 50 year old to 5 year old in the blink of an eye.

A hopeless romantic but it’s a side you don’t often reveal.

Prefer strawberry milk over any other flavour.

You’re the type of person to shower twice a day w/o fail.

Where that stank smell coming from? Not you clearly bc your skin is basically 90% The Body Shop’s rose scented soap at this point.

You get stomach aches a lot and you can’t figure out why.

Probably an allergy to everyone’s bs.

Really good at dirty talk even though you don’t seem the type so people are always taken aback.

You have to be really in the mood though otherwise it falls flatter than Oikawa’s ass, use your skill wisely.

You often call people clowns when you know you’re secretly the biggest one going.

Honk honk, hoe.

You send messages in one paragraph rather than multiple texts unless you are REALLY excited.

People underestimate you at times then are shocked when they realise you are capable of being a fire-breathing dragon from the flaming pits of hell.

You like spicy chicken wings.

Such a petty little shit at times lmao.

Enjoy the view from the top of mountains so you either hike a lot or really want to.

Way more of a cat person since it’s just much more convenient for you.

Usually pretty cheerful or calm and people are drawn to your stable/friendly aura.

Went through a phase of drinking mountain dew and your body still feels the awful effects

Fav element is probably air.

You’re 5′6″ or shorter.

Box dyed your hair brunette several times and can never get the pigment out to this day.

Yamamoto:

Whenever you smell something weird in the room you always internally freak out and think it’s you.

Head-butting walls is your hobby.

You fell off your bike as a kid and still have the scar on your knee.

Probably have tons of ear piercings.

Would tame a pigeon and call it Larry.

You get frequent nosebleeds and can never tell if it’s a medical issue or your extreme simping for fictional men/women.

Hopefully the latter.

You constantly chew your pen/pencil in class so you never lend them to anyone out of embarrassment.

I really hope no one ever lends you stationery bc 30 minutes later it’ll look like it was mauled by a rabid rottweiler.

You really want to own a dog and would call it something intimidating like Banshee or Diablo.

You bleached your hair that one time and it almost fell out so now you’re forced to stay at least 10 metres away from all at-home hair dye products.

You tried your best though bby so A for effort, even if it did look like dehydrated ramen afterwards.

Your grades are mostly C’s and you’re barely passing bc you just don’t care about your classes lol.

Still though you’re actually pretty smart so put it to good use you lazy oaf, channel that crackhead energy into something good.

Your phone screen has several cracks in it from when you dropped it on the bathroom floor while shitting and you’ll always be angry at yourself for that.

You have some really weird quirks but you make it work.

Actually a v chill person but you just kinda attract chaos/trouble wherever you go.

Carry a lighter with you even when you don’t need one.

Shy texter but once people see you irl you are the complete opposite, you just dk how to text without coming across as awkward.

One of those people that’s unintentionally funny and always get confused when you make someone laugh but it makes you feel good regardless.

Have a cool necklace collection and own at least one dog-tag/army style pendant.

Should really consider buying a rabbit you would look so cute w/ one.

You have really nice legs and people should compliment them more.

Either severely dehydrated or overly hydrated to the point you are peeing pure tap water so for the love of god please learn moderation, your kidneys and bladder will thank you for it.

Inuoka:

Your favourite character would be Hinata but you like people taller than you so your love for Inuoka spawned.

You really enjoy using the double spiderman meme.

Cannot correctly verbalise your feelings without creating a minimum of 10 misunderstandings but once people are used to it it’s kinda endearing.

You usually wake up in a good mood and people can never fathom how or why.

You either stay up till 5am or you wake up at that time no in between.

A morning person bc you love the sunrise.

Change your lock-screen very regularly bc you get bored.

Your humour consists solely of poop jokes.

When you don’t understand a joke you laugh anyway and hope they don’t ask you if you actually get it.

Happened once and you’re still traumatised from the cricket silence that fell upon the room.

Really like the taste of lemonade and drink it more often than you should.

Often think about what you would look like with a shaved head.

More of an extrovert but def have occasional introvert tendencies where you wanna be left tf alone.

Never allowed to pick up anything in stores bc the last time you did you sniffed a scented candle and it shattered to the floor.

Constantly have spontaneous ideas of what to change about your appearance.

You use a lot of hand gestures like thumbs up and peace signs.

‘Dude’ and ‘lmao’ is 90% of your vernacular.

Your nails are a disaster, some are down to the nub while others are pretty grown out bc you only bite a select few please sort it out.

Look really good in red.

Your laptop has way too many tabs open from random google searches of words you didn’t know the meaning to.

You read a lot of books but for like 10 minutes at a time bc you have the attention span of a walnut.

You are the type of person to nuke your AO3 tags with things that aren’t even relevant purely bc you found them funny.

Your Tumblr drafts are a nightmare, you have like 100+ in the works yet keep starting new projects why do you do this.

Happy sunshine but you have a LOT of mood swings like that shit comes out of nowhere.

Cry pretty often but no one ever sees and it’s usually because of said mood swings.

You always smile and pick yourself up again though which I commend you for.

TYPES IN CAPITALS IN SITUATIONS THAT DO NOT REQUIRE SAID PUNCTUATION SO YOU SEEM LIKE YOU’RE YELLING ALL THE TIME.

[ktliterary]

What I'm Looking For: Aida Z. Lilly

I’m excited to be open to queries for speculative fiction in upper middle grade, YA, and adult; in YA and upper MG contemporary, I am exclusively looking for stories from LGBTQIA+, BIPOC, and other marginalized groups; graphic novels for upper middle grade, YA, and adult from author-illustrators with a unique story; fresh, modern, and original contemporary adult fiction that fits in with my wishlist; and narrative non-fiction (but no true crime).

Across all genres, the writing, voice, and characters have to hook me and make me feel something. I want stories about the good, bad, and ugly of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I’m also interested in cults, the occult, mental health, and magic. I’m looking for the kind-of-weird and completely amazing! Good writing is the most important aspect for me. I love great ideas, but I really need the execution of those ideas to be brilliant. I want to be drawn in within the first few pages, and I’m okay with not having all the answers (at first anyway). I want to read the story only you can tell. I want to accidentally learn things only you can teach me.

I love all things speculative—well, except horror (touches of it in other spec fiction are fine though). What really catches my eye is SFF with real issues tackled in thought-provoking ways, like Grossman’s MAGICIANS series (and show). This shouldn’t be super shocking since I grew up loving the ANIMORPHS series. I like a big, diverse cast with love in their hearts and problems in their lives. Even though these kids had to save the world, they still dealt with familial strife, romantic problems, the failings of adults, and the emotions that accompanied the war and the “normal” lives they had to lead. So give me ANIMORPHS for adults with even more diversity.

On that note, I want feminist projects (especially where feminism is unexpected) and books written by and about people from marginalized communities. As a first-gen Middle Eastern American, I enjoy hearing other people’s immigration tales. If you have written the next KIM’S CONVENIENCE, EMAIL ME RIGHT THIS SECOND BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.

I want ALLLLLLL the queer SFF please! There is so little of it, and it is so needed!

I like mythology (especially when it’s written as beautifully as Madeline Miller does it), music (Juliet, Naked and Daisy Jones & The Six are some of my faves), unreliable narrators, multiple viewpoints, stories that take place at college/grad school, flawed characters, a sense of humor, friendships (complicated ones, too), L.A. stories, tales of NYC, puzzles (think more Dan Brown, less National Treasure), and the atmosphere of Carnivàle, Darren Shan’s CIRQUE DU FREAK, Euphoria, and New Orleans. Magic and superheroes are some of my favorite things, especially when those characters act in a very human way and have very human problems (The Boys, Hancock, Super Ex-Girlfriend). I love a good origin story (even if I’ve seen Peter Parker have three of them onscreen…)

My taste veers from AMERICAN PSYCHO to HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE (and lots in between). Engage me enough to make me laugh AND cry. Give me humor and heart (like Handler’s LIFE WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME); give me a character like Dr. Cox from Scrubs or someone Gordon Ramsay-esque, who secretly has a soft center. Conversely, I also want ALL THE DARKNESS. Because while I love the cuteness of Detective Pikachu, I also live for authors like Leïla Slimani, Bret Easton Ellis and Chuck Palahniuk, who capture the ugly sides of human nature in sharp, acerbic light. I won’t shy away from your THREE WOMEN, TWEAK, EDUCATED, or MY DARK VANESSA.

Shows and movies I love: ALL THINGS STUDIO GHIBLI, Kim’s Convenience, Pose, American Horror Story: Coven, The L Word (both), Big Love, Fresh off the Boat (the book and show), Guardians of the Galaxy (and the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe), Supernatural, Lost, Modern Family, anything Mindy Kaling touches (books and shows), Workin’ Moms, Abrams’s Star Trek reboot, The Affair, South Park, Dexter (the books and show), Broad City, The Last Man on Earth (I nearly cried when they canceled this), Diary of a Mad Black Woman, Crash, What Dreams May Come, Interview with the Vampire, Queen of the Damned, Death Note, Straight Outta Compton, Monsters University, The Sopranos, How to Get Away with Murder, Stepbrothers, Zoolander, The Boondocks, Little Nemo, Selena, Shin Chan, Rent, Sweeney Todd, Dope, The Halloween Tree (the book and the movie), The Office, American Housewife, For Colored Girls, LotR, Mad Men, Mystery Men, Sons of Anarchy, Fringe, The King of Queens, Cloverfield, Super 8, Blade Runner 2049, Good Will Hunting, Adventure Time, Detective Pikachu, Good Boys

Books and authors I love: The Awkward Thoughts of W. Kamau Bell (and his standup), Mira Jacob, Daisy Jones and the Six, There There, Eat a Peach, Convenience Store Woman, Double Cup Love, Tweak: Growing up on Methamphetamines, Born a Crime (and Noah’s standup), Tranny, The Hate U Give, Warcross duology, Leïla Slimani, Rainbow Rowell, The Heart’s Invisible Furies, The Time Traveler’s Wife, I Am Legend (the movie, too), The Amory Wars (and the music about them), Saga, Deadendia, The Devil Is a Part-Timer, Chuck Palahniuk, Kid Gloves, Zatanna and the House of Secrets, Sing, Unburied, Sing, The Wheel of Time series, Hyperbole and a Half, Bret Easton Ellis, Harry Potter (but not Rowling), Artemis Fowl, Riordan and friends, Life Will Be the Death of Me, The Interestings, Station Eleven, Laura Dean Keeps Breaking up with Me, Hey Kiddo, The New Kid, Furious Thing, Number One Chinese Restaurant, The Girls at 17 Swann Street, Ready Player One (and the movie), Wildwood, Red at the Bone, Juliet, Naked, The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl, Fun Home, American Housewife, Madeline Miller, Gaiman, Christopher Moore, Haruki Murakami, Patrick Rothfuss, The Goldfinch, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, Kevin Kwan, Dave Eggers, My Dark Vanessa, All of us with Wings, Graveyard Shift, Life of Pi, The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, America for Beginners, The Storyteller’s Secret, Never Let Me Go, Priestdaddy, Educated, Three Women, Augusten Burroughs, Furiously Happy, Okay, Fine, Whatever, Fights: One Boy’s Triumph over Violence, The Usual Suspects (Maurice Broaddus), V.E. Schwab, The Silent Patient, Uprooted, Pierce Brown, The Enderverse, Blake Crouch, The Hunger Games, John Dies at the End

Maybe not the best fit for: Political thriller Gross out Horror (some touches are okay in SFF) Picture books Chapter books Animal protagonists Flowery language in fantasy Very technical or math-heavy sci-fi Historical fiction WW2 or cops or Civil War/antebellum “Inspirational”

What I’m Looking For: Aida Z. Lilly was originally published on kt literary

[scarredsilk]

Something Real (Chapter Four)

Chapter Master-list tag list: @trashcan-filled-with-fandoms , @moonsandstarsaregay read on ao3

tw for this chapter: ptsd/panic attacks, knives/blood/graphic violence (all stuff from the past tho don’t worry)

In hindsight, Neil thought he could have probably handled that better.

He was just so swept up in Andrew and Exy that he lost sight of his goal. At first, Neil was fully set on telling Andrew his intentions. But as time went on, Andrew picked up on everything so quickly that Neil just wanted to keep teaching him, regardless if Andrew would join the foxes or not. Neil wanted to tell Andrew just that, but it was hard to get the words out with Andrews hands around his throat. Maybe it was for the best. Andrew had a reason for not telling anyone about Exy, and Neil wanted to respect that, even if he didn’t know the reason himself.

Still..it was hard to turn away from such talent. And Neil was convinced Andrew didn’t realize how special he truly was. No, he wouldn’t give up on Andrew that easily. Even if everybody else does.

Neil gave Andrew exactly twenty-four hours to cool off, but he couldn’t really wait much longer after that. The season was starting soon, and it would already be a hassle to sign Andrew this late. He made his way to Andrew’s room and knocked on the door tentatively.

Nicky swung it open, a smile immediately encompassing his face. “Neil! You’re just in time for movie night. Come in.”

Neil followed Nicky to the main room, where Aaron and Kevin were chilling on the couch. He didn’t see Andrew anywhere.

“Do you have a preference?” Nicky asked as he knelt in front of the DVD player. “I was thinking romantic comedy.”

Aaron groaned. “Again?”

“It’s either that or go with Kevin’s pick, and I’m not watching another Exy game tonight.” Neil heard Kevin huff and saw him slump further into the couch. “So, Neil, got any suggestions?”

“Actually, I was looking for Andrew.” All eyes snapped to him. Silence filled the room and Neil felt a bit impatient when no one answered him. “What?”

“What do you want with Andrew?” Aaron questioned, his voice cold.

“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business.”

Aaron fixed him with a dead stare that was so akin to Andrew’s that if they stood next to each other in that moment, Neil would not be able to tell them apart. Aaron wasn’t going to answer him, so Neil turned to Nicky. “Well?”

Nicky pointed to one of the bedroom doors. Neil muttered a small thanks but before he could take a step, the door swung open to reveal a disheveled Andrew. His blond hair was ruffled with sleep and he was wearing pajama bottoms that hung too low on his waist. He yawned as he made his way into the main room.

Inexplicably, Neil blushed at the sight of him.

Andrew did not seem surprised to see Neil there, nor did he acknowledge him at all. Andrew began to make coffee without a glance in Neil’s direction.

Neil followed him to the small kitchen. He watched as Andrew poured water and added grounds to the machine. He opened one cabinet and had to go on his tip toes to retrieve a mug, and Neil adverted his eyes from the small patch of skin that revealed as Andrew’s shirt rolled up. He risked a look behind him and discovered Aaron and Kevin were looking at them.

Neil couldn’t talk here, not with them watching. “Andrew.” He said, his voice quiet.

When Andrew finally turned around, he had two mugs in his hands instead of one. He handed one to Neil, then made a motion that said, ‘follow me’.

 They ended up on the roof, the night air wrecking Neil’s body with chills. He was thankful for the mug in his hands and curled his fingers around the heat. Neil watched as Andrew sat on the cool concrete, his hands reaching for a pack of cigarettes.

“Do you make a habit of napping during the day?” Neil asked as he took a seat next to him.

“Do you make a habit of showing up where you’re not wanted?” Andrew shot back.

Neil looked down at the coffee in his hands. If Andrew really didn’t want him there, he wouldn’t have given him a mug. Neil was beginning to understand what Andrew said and did were two different things. No, that wasn’t it, Andrew was not purposely contradicting himself. He wholeheartedly believed in both of his actions, and he was always fighting which one was truer.

Neil took a sip of his coffee, his face scrunching up from the sweetness. “I wanted to talk.”

“You’re already talking.”

“About what happened. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I’ll admit, my intentions at the start were for you to join the foxes. In a way, that’s still how I feel. But there’s a stronger part of me that just wants to teach you and learn from you. If you never end up joining the foxes, that’s okay with me.”

Andrew, for the first time that night, looked at Neil. His face was calm and distant as always. “Why do you want me to join the foxes?”

“Because you’re talented—” Neil started.

“And no lying.”

Neil shook his head. “I’m not lying. But if you won’t believe that, then believe this: the foxes aren’t enough to win. We need a wild card, something that will throw the opposing team off balance. Renee is a great goalkeeper and so is Korin, but every team already knows their stats and what moves they rely on to win. You’re new and something they won’t ever expect.”

Andrew took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke filling the air between them. “What do I get out of it?”

Neil did not think he would have to explain that. “Glory.” Andrew rolled his eyes. “Satisfaction. A team and a future that’s real.”

“Real.” Andrew echoed, the word sounding less appealing in Andrew’s mouth. He took a sip of his coffee then set in on the ground next to him. With the combination of the dark and Andrew’s pale skin glowing from the moonlight, he didn’t look real himself. “I’m not interested.”

Neil could tell he was losing and any minute now Andrew would end his conversation. Neil wracked his brain for anything of substance. Andrew would gain all those things from the foxes, and not only that, but he would gain a second family. Neil could not imagine living without Matt or Dan or any of the other foxes. Neil felt grounded around them, less like a runaway and more like someone who laid roots. He didn’t know when he began to feel grounded around Andrew, and he didn’t know why he wanted Andrew to feel just as grounded. But the feeling was there, and it tugged at Neil to say something to change his mind.

Neil knew Andrew did not care about any of that, so Neil pulled the card he was saving all night. “Kevin.”

“What about him?”

“You really think you can protect him if we lose?”

The question hung between them and it was awhile before Andrew spoke. “Depends.”

Neil had only small snippets of what the contract was between Andrew and Kevin. The details didn’t really matter, all that mattered was that Andrew never broke a promise. And Neil relied on that one fact alone. “On what?”

“If Kevin keeps his word.”

“What does that mean?” Neil questioned.

“Why do you care?”

“Curious. I want to know you.” Neil admitted, more to himself than to Andrew.

“A truth for a truth.” Andrew said, dropping his unfinished cigarette off the edge of the roof. He raised his hands with both index fingers pointing upward. “I’ll answer your question if you answer one of mine.”

Neil felt a small pang of panic but figured this was probably the only way. “Fine.”

“I can only protect Kevin to an extent. If the foxes win, then protecting Kevin and his Exy riddled brain will be easy. But if the foxes lose then Kevin’s fragile ego will crumple, and he’ll crawl back to Riko like the weakling he is. He promised it wouldn’t come to that, but I’m not stupid.” One finger went down, and Andrew wiggled the other. “My turn. How did you get those scars?”

Neil did not have time to consider what Andrew had said about Kevin. All he could think about was the scars that littered his face and how heavy they suddenly felt. The foxes knew not to ask about them and it had been awhile since Neil had to give an explanation. The small panic he felt earlier, bloomed into something violent and Neil regretted playing this game. He stared down the mug in his hands and tried to work through it. “My father and his men.” Neil explained, his voice barely above a whisper. “The last time I ran into them, they weren’t so welcoming.”

He hadn’t told anyone the truth about his scars since they were cut into his face and he didn’t care to dive into that memory. Yet the pain of that day was crashing into him and Neil was back in that car, a knife to his face and Lola beside him.

Neil wasn’t aware of how long he was gone until a cold hand clamped his neck. “Neil, breathe.”

Neil took a few deep breaths and like a switch, he was back on the roof with Andrew.

Neil was afraid to look at Andrew directly, so he watched him from under his eyelashes. He expected to see pity or worry or whatever emotion Nicky or Dan usually made. Instead, he saw understanding mixed with a darkness that leveled Neil more than it should have. “For a price, I can protect you.”

Neil blinked. “What?”

“From them.”

“They-they’re dead.” Andrew hadn’t removed his hand and Neil didn’t particularly mind. They watched each other, the space between them closer than before. Neil thought that for Andrew to offer something like that so casually was incomprehensible. If his father had been alive, he could kill Andrew in a matter of seconds. “I don’t want there to be contracts binding us. Just truth.”

The darkness in Andrew’s eyes softened. After a pause, he gestured to his scars. “Can I touch, yes or no?”

“Yes.” Neil breathed.

Andrew’s hand shifted from his neck to cup his face. He trailed the longest scar with his thumb. Neil shuddered under his touch, his eyes fluttering close on their own accord. 

Then Andrew pulled his hand away and leaned out of his space. “I hate you. Leave.”

Neil stood, trying to compose himself as best as he could. Just as he reached the door to the roof, Andrew spoke up again. “I’ll consider your offer, Junkie.”

  Neil liked to imagine the bullets that ripped through his father’s chest also ripped through all his memories of him. That they shredded the thoughts into nothing more than shrapnel and blood. He imagined this, yet the memories never truly go away.

Sometimes, they’re dull. They are so faded and grey that when Wymack raises his voice, he doesn’t flinch like he used to. Or when Allison pulls him into a hug, he can enjoy it without his mother whispering danger in his ear. Sometimes his memories are nothing more than that—a memory.

And sometimes, on the bad days, they are upfront and center. They are loud and all consuming. They pull at Neil and nip at his ankles telling him to run, run, run.

Often, it starts with a nightmare. Neil wakes up with scenes of his father slicing him in half. He wakes up with the image of Lola cutting out Matt’s eyes. He wakes up with no hands and no legs and no heart.

He wakes up and for a split second, cannot tell if it was a nightmare or a memory.

Usually after a few heavy breaths, he can tell the difference. Still, the pain of nightmares blends with the pain of memories and Neil has a hard time with carrying them both.

 The same night he spoke with Andrew, his mind betrayed him. In his heart, Neil knows that he trusts Andrew. It’s a staggering thought, so his brain takes a while to warm up to the idea. He has a nightmare, which may be a memory playing on repeat, and wakes to his alarm in a cold sweat.

Neil takes a hot shower and the water soothes him a bit. He still feels little shaky when he finally makes it into the main room, but Matt’s face calms him instantly.

“Hey you. Aren’t you going to be late?” Matt asks as he shoves some folders into his backpack.

Neil shrugged. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t find my calculator and I think Ms. Predmore said something about a pop quiz.”

Neil walked over to Matt and lifted a textbook off his desk to unveil a calculator. Matt’s eyes widened. “How did you--?”

“I saw Seth steal it from your bag while he was studying last night.”

“Thank you, Neil!” Matt scooped him into a hug that Neil had no time to prepare for. “Okay, I’m off!”

Neil watched as the door closed behind him. He let out a few breaths and tried not to think about how his hug felt like two hands holding him down.

 When he was late, Neil hated the sheer abundance of students at Palmetto State University. Usually, he was early enough to beat the crowd and could steal a seat in the back, then slip out early to his next class. Today, he was maneuvering through the hallway and shimming through small openings just so he could make it on time. The noise didn’t bother him though, so he listened to other students’ conversations on the way to class.

As his classroom came in sight, relief flooded him.

“Nathaniel!”

Neil froze, several people knocking into him and shooting him a dirty look for stopping in the middle of the hallway. His blood ran cold. Had he imagined it?

“Nathaniel!”

Something’s wrong. His father’s men should all be dead. Neil’s heart pounded in his ears along with a ringing that told him he was close to passing out. Neil forced himself to calm down and turn around. He saw a girl approaching him and Neil wanted to close his eyes and escape, except his nightmare from last night flashed in his eyelids.

“Nathaniel! Wait!”

Neil braced himself. He watched as they got closer and wished he hugged Matt back this morning. He wished he wasn’t stubborn and had accepted Renee’s invite of walking him to class. He wished Andrew was there to put a hand on his neck.

Neil watched as whoever it was, walk right past him. He turned around, and saw the girl kiss some guy who had been standing directly behind Neil. “I called your name like ten times, Nathaniel.”

“Sorry babe, I had my earphones in.”

 Neil considered skipping the foxes practice that night. He felt like some skittish animal, ready to turn tail and leave at any sign of danger. However, skipping a practice would only hurt him in the long run. He couldn’t afford to miss with the season starting in only a matter of weeks.

As he changed out in the stall, he tried to settle down. I’m not Nathaniel, I’m not the Butcher’s son, I’m not lost.

The first half of practice went well. He was surprised to see Andrew in the bleachers, and it momentarily paused the uneasiness churning in his stomach.

The second half of practice did not go so well. Seth was getting on his nerves, along with Wymack’s yelling. He tried to focus on Andrew’s blank expression, except it was hard to see from a distance. He was distracted and slow and tried to take a shot at the goal, but Aaron was able to shove him into a wall with ease.

Neil fell on his face, the gear on his head pushing into his skin like a dashboard lighter. He could smell blood, could smell skin burning.

Distantly, he heard Kevin shout “how did you miss?!”

Neil didn’t know where he was. The events of the day finally caught up with him and he was back in Baltimore. I’m not Nathaniel, I’m not the Butcher’s son, I’m not lost, I’m not Nathaniel, I’m not the Butcher’s son, I’m not lost. I’m not Nathaniel, I’m not the Butcher’s son, I’m not lost.

He saw Renee approach him, but she transformed into Lola right before his eyes. “Nathaniel?”

Neil flinched away and held his head in his hands, I’m not Nathaniel, I’m not the Butcher’s son, I’m not lost.

“Nathaniel? What’s wrong?”

No, no, no. Don’t call me that!

“Call you what?” Sounds like Renee doesn’t look like Renee.

“Wymack! Get Bee!”

He hoped it wouldn’t hurt. He hoped it would be quick or he’d pass out from the pain. He hoped his father would show him mercy one goddamn time. Through the haze, Neil barely registered someone kneeling in front of him. He does, however, feel the cold hand on his neck. “Stop this.” A calm voice cuts through the air. He feels the hand leave his neck only to take off his helmet. “Neil, breathe.” Neil looks up, expecting to see his father, yet its only Andrew. Neil holds onto his blank expression like it’s a rope lifting him from a black hole. Neil breathes and breathes. Slowly, he comes back to himself.

When he’s ready, he looks around to see the foxes surrounding them. He sees Bee and Wymack with their arms stretched, preventing some of them from getting closer. Aaron is the only one looking at Andrew and not Neil.

“I’m fine.” Neil croaks out.

“Oh my fucking God—” Nicky starts, but Wymack shushes him.

He approaches Neil cautiously, and gestures for him to stand up. “Come on, kid.”

Neil looks at Andrew and they stand together. He does a small body check on himself, and notes that there are no gaping wounds, no burning flesh. He is fine, other than his shaky legs.

Neil follows Wymack and Bee out of the foxhole court.

[njawaidofficial]

“Billions” Is The Best Show About The Worst Kind Of Masculinity

https://styleveryday.com/2018/04/16/billions-is-the-best-show-about-the-worst-kind-of-masculinity/

“Billions” Is The Best Show About The Worst Kind Of Masculinity

Paul Giamatti as Chuck Rhoades and Jeffrey DeMunn as Charles Rhoades Sr. in the Billions episode “Hell of a Ride.”

Jeff Neumann / Showtime

Dick is a multipurpose metaphor in Billions. Most of the characters in Showtime’s hedge fund drama talk about their work, their success or lack thereof, and their stature as an extension of their virility. They aren’t all men, but they do all circle a luxe locker room of an industry that’s been overwhelmingly defined by men. Any observation you might feel inclined to make about Wall Street being dominated by bros vying to prove who has the biggest balls, Billions makes for you. In its very first episode, without the hint of a wink, a trader describes his issues at work to performance coach Wendy Rhoades (Maggie Siff) by using the language of erectile dysfunction: “I hear it happens to guys my age.”

Exactly a season later, Wendy shakes a bottle of Viagra at an audience of hedge fund types, telling them that while some of them rely on it, none would admit that: “The thought that someone might know you need help is worse than not getting the help you need. Still, when the time comes, when you need to pull the trigger on the buy or sell order, you better be hard as a rock and ready to go” — no Freudian subtext necessary. More recently, to really underscore the erection connection and the fragility that accompanies it, a character insists he would part with a fraction of his — “an inch off my dick” — if it meant he and his failing fund could get back in the game.

When Billions, the creation of Brian Koppelman and David Levien, premiered in 2016, it was a show that — much like its wilder cinematic sibling The Wolf of Wall Street — felt unwilling to commit to being either a critique or a celebration of the excesses and amoral schemes it was putting onscreen. When you wallow in dudes slinging their schlongs around without any apparent subversion, it tends to come across as endorsement, especially when considered through the fumes of the presidential election that followed the first season, in which macho posturing and cartoonish wealth carried the day. In its early episodes, especially, Billions could be taken for another variation on the “flawed but great man” drama, and an addictive but particularly sour one whose standards of greatness were questionable.

Bobby “Axe” Axelrod (Damian Lewis) and Chuck at the end of Season 1.

Jeff Neumann / Showtime

It’s actually about two men — US attorney and rising political star Chuck Rhoades (Paul Giamatti), and hedge fund superstar and billionaire “man of the people” Bobby Axelrod (Damian Lewis) — and the series unfolds in the shadow of their kaiju battle. Chuck, who sets out to take down Axe for insider trading with the obsessiveness of Ahab chasing Moby (sorry) Dick, might nominally be on the side of “good,” or at least the law, but Billions is quick to muddy this divide. With his aims to run for office, Chuck proves himself to be someone willing to cross lines to further his own interests, while Axe is shown to be, while far from innocent, not the worst offender in his ethically flexible industry — just the showiest target.

Three seasons in, Chuck and Axe are still duking it out, and what’s striking is how much smaller their continuing struggle now makes them look — so very human-sized. They’ve lost relationships and fortunes to a conflict that was started, by Axe’s own acknowledgment, for “dick-measuring purposes.” Somewhere along its run, Billions snapped into focus from being a blurry drama about power to being an infinitely sharper one about gender. It’s a snappily paced, light-on-its-feet nightmare about pissing contests, bruised egos, and displays of dominance, and what happens when power and gendered behavior are so intertwined that they get openly treated as if they were one and the same.

Midway through its current season, Billions still couldn’t be described as a critique of the finance world, or the political one that intersects with it — it regards them both with a clinical gaze, as structures that protect and serve themselves, resist consequences, and erode people’s ideals with rewards and compromises. Part of what makes the protagonists’ continuing clash quietly ridiculous is that, however intent they are on obliterating one another, both are wealthy white men cushioned by all the advantages they inherited or accrued for themselves, and they could ever only fall so far.

Chuck, with his pedigree and connections, could roll through the scandal that may or may not erupt around him and into a lucrative private sector gig if he had to; Axe, who in a recent episode had an earnest conversation with his ex-wife Lara about whether they could afford to live on a mere $300 million if they had to, immediately comes up with a workaround after being cornered into giving up his ability to trade. Billions is technically a drama, but it’s more fitting to think of it as a dark, near-subliminal comedy about machismo and avarice, about what a surreal thing it is that so many people in power are really just jostling to throw their junk on the table.

Taylor (Asia Kate Dillon) at the poker table in “Optimal Play.”

Jeff Neumann / Showtime

The best thing Billions has done was to introduce a nonbinary character in its second season. That’s not just because casting the nonbinary actor Asia Kate Dillon as Taylor Mason — a brilliant analyst who strides into Axe’s office, informs him of their preferred pronouns, and proceeds to impress him so much that he coaxes them out of their plans to head to academia with offers of a hefty paycheck and mentorship — is a milestone of representation. It is, as is the conversation that Dillon went on to lead about actor/actress awards categories. But Taylor has also crystallized the themes of gender and power that the show had previously been circling less certainly. The transformation of Taylor from an intriguing side character at the start of Season 2 to a central series regular in Season 3 is the saga of Billions finally clicking together, like a dance troupe finally nailing its choreography.

Billions is not exclusively a show about men, but it is shaped by masculinity to the extent that most of its women — formidable, brainy, tough — are seen through the ways they’ve had to learn how to navigate the expectations and biases of men. They shield themselves when needed, soften their edges when it’s advantageous, and contend with being seen as sexual objects. Characters like Wendy, who can effortlessly hamstring a heckler with a precise observation about the source of his insecurities, or Assistant US Attorney Kate Sacker (Condola Rashād), whose guardedness when talking about the depths of her convictions speaks to an awareness that they could get her labeled as too emotional to get the job done, have had to get used to being one of the few women in the room. Wendy’s storyline has been explicitly about those challenges, about being Chuck’s romantic partner and Axe’s professional one, and contending with how much trouble they have accepting that she can do both.

Taylor’s experience is by no means easier than that of the women on the show (“You skinny fucking freak!” a finance bigshot spits at them at one point), but it’s different, in that so many of their colleagues are confounded about what biases to bring to bear. No one at work has context for Taylor. In their first appearance, Taylor teases another trader about assuming they’re a vegan, letting him sputter before dryly saying, “Of course I’m a vegan.” Taylor, with their shorn head, neutral dress, and intense eye contact, is cerebral and straightforward instead of gut-driven and posturing, concerned about their carbon footprint, and uneasy with conspicuous consumption — all qualities that put them at odds with everyone around them at the office. At first, that made it seem like they were going to get saddled with being Axe Capital’s conscience — that frequent burden of the outsider, to have to serve as a morally pure buzzkill.

Taylor and Mafee (Dan Soder) in “Dead Cat Bounce.”

Jeff Neumann / Showtime

Instead, Taylor becomes the company’s star, then Axe’s unexpected chosen successor, carving out a path for themselves as someone for whom strength is not bound up in performing masculinity or displays of aggression. Taylor was clearly initially introduced to be a foil for Axe, to demonstrate that, despite how chest-thumpy the office culture around him is, Axe himself is capable of seeing talent whether it comes in a form he’s accustomed to or not. But since then, Axe has in many ways been transformed into a foil for Taylor. He is an adviser who keeps trying to pass along his worst qualities as well as his best ones, because he doesn’t see them that way, even as his skirmishes with Chuck end up making him an exile from his own fund.

“You know the rider in the bicycle movie who, just when he has victory in sight, takes his hands off the bars and just holds them out like this, taking in the sun, gliding, letting all the other racers whiz by him just because?” Taylor asks Axe this in the Alex Gibney–directed episode “Optimal Play” in the second season, when Axe approaches them about representing the company in a Wall Street charity poker tournament called, honest to god, the Alpha Cup. “I always want to be that biker,” Taylor says. Despite their disinterest in that sort of competition, Taylor of course gets roped into playing and wins, taking down a taunting opponent whose rage makes him transparent.

It’s an exhilarating moment underscored with unease, as their colleagues slap them on the back and cuff their head affectionately, rewarding them with “one of us” gestures of acceptance they weren’t seeking out. Taylor understands that knowing you can win, and then opting not to bother, is actually a bigger power move than needing to constantly destroy all rivals. They even put it in language the Axe Capital community should understand: “The whole ‘my dick is bigger than yours’ thing, it wasn’t for me.”

Axe in “The Wrong Maria Gonzalez.”

Jeff Neumann / Showtime

The motif of fathers and their (literal or figurative) children has become a throughline in the third season of Billions, and another way for the series to explore gender and power. Taylor, in becoming the heir to Axe’s throne, has had to contend with their mentor’s unwillingness to cede control of his kingdom. Axe turns up at the office, which is full of employees he’s forbidden from interacting with, to show that it’s still his territory, a compulsive flaunting of strength that mostly just undermines Taylor’s still-new leadership role. There’s a sense that he can’t resist wanting to compete with Taylor, even if it means competing with his own company — to prove, even if only to himself, that he’s still the best. As is the case with his war with Chuck, Axe just can’t help himself.

While Taylor and Axe settle on a mutually agreeable detente, a more perverse reconciliation is achieved in the parallel storyline of Chuck and his actual father, Charles (Jeffrey DeMunn), a New York real estate tycoon. Charles’ desire to further a family dynasty wars with his contempt for what he perceives as weakness in his son, and he is a great believer in manly posturing, in ways that his son is at least conflicted about. Billions is, on the sexposition-happy scale of cable dramas, relatively restrained with displays of sex and nudity. So it’s telling that in Sunday’s episode, “A Generation Too Late,” the writers allow DeMunn a moment in the buff when Charles shucks his robe to dismiss a man who tries to corner him outside a steam room for an unwanted conversation — full-frontal as a power move.

In the previous episode, Charles scornfully lectures Chuck about trying to repair their relationship with a sentimental speech, as they stand outside an alumni event on a campus Charles describes as “the site of my greatest conquests.” He points to a dorm and announces, “I fucked three girls in there once in a 24-hour period — one in the can.” Charles is a hidebound, amusingly loathsome creation, and last night’s installment ended with a particularly grim punchline about just what it takes for Chuck to secure affirmation from his father. All Chuck needed to do is to screw his dad over and force his hand. “I’m proud of you, son — you fucked me good,” the older man says, in the first expression of pride toward his son since young Chuck lost his virginity to a sex worker of his dad’s choosing at age 14.

Chuck and Wendy Rhoades (Maggie Siff) at the start of Season 2.

Showtime

Billions can be cartoonish, and if the past year has underscored anything, it’s that the IRL worlds of finance and politics sure can be, too. But the fictionality of Billions provides enough distance that there’s a strange sense of comfort to be had from the series. Watching actual world leaders conduct their own dick-measuring contest on a nuclear scale is terrifying, because we exist at the mercy of their decisions, and we have to live with the consequences. Watching Axe and Chuck sneer at each other in the plush spaces the show rarely strays from, we’re freed up to consider the sad absurdity of these tendencies. These men are so inured to competition and a desire to prove their dominance that they work against their own best interests and those of their successors.

The series doesn’t pander by suggesting that its non-male characters are either better or more compassionate than men — both Taylor and Lara, for instance, advocate for financially gutting a small town whose debt Axe purchases. But the show does end up portraying stereotypical masculinity as a trap that its main characters can’t find their way out of. That masculinity is a vulnerability that they have internalized as strength, even if these same characters still hold most of the power. They may be smart men, but they can be baited into doing some very dumb things for the sake of their pride and the need to demonstrate their prowess. And that’s a hell of a lot more fun to watch unfold on scripted television than it is on cable news. ●