#to the point of repression

[deepfriedpaddymayne]

Hi! I was wondering what you think about Augustin's sexuality esp during the getting pinned down/almost killed by Paddy scene=) I think he seems to enjoy it for a second, then gets annoyed and throws out the wife and kid line. But he also seems SO intrigued by him afterwards. Is he just comfortable in his sexuality?

hello anon first of all I am sorry for taking so long to answer this, it has been sitting in my brain for a long time. second of all mwah smooching you on the forehead for giving me an opportunity to ramble about my special boy

I am gonna preface this with the fact that while we do get a decent enough look at Augustin in the only two episodes we have him in, we do only have him around for two episodes. this means that a lot of my personal way of characterising Augustin is extrapolated from the little information we have, or from what I think makes a nice contrast with Paddy, because obviously those two are meant to be foils/parallels/mirrors/whatever it was that they were gonna do with them before the rewrites. replying to this ask is basically me explaining the process behind some of this extrapolation, because I think about Augustin Jordan a regular amount.

I personally find the way Augustin relates to his sexuality just... fascinating. on my first watch of The Sand Wrestling scene, my first impression was that the guy had to be ridiculously touch starved, because, like. it is undeniable that, even for just a few seconds, he was enjoying himself there. and okay, intricate rituals and homoeroticism and all of those things, but even then, Paddy is literally holding a knife to his throat. that should make you a little tense even if you are into sweaty wrestling with hot poets! and instead, Augustin is relaxing into it. as soon as the immediate fear goes away, he fucking melts under Paddy for a few seconds, and that's when the annoyance kicks in, after which his reactions seem a little more - contained, almost? he generally moves less and starts shushing Paddy, and then when he gets up shortly after he looks SO irritated (which is also so funny imo - my guy was just pinned to the ground with a knife to his throat by a guy who's famously insane and the most negativity he can muster is 'well that was annoying'). but of course, as you point out, after that, he is very obviously intrigued by Paddy - he's SO delighted when he realises that Paddy did just invite him to play russian roulette to prove a point, and in that entire scene he alternates between "my man you are insane what the hell" and "my man you are insane what the hell 👀". and the most obvious explanation for this is, ok, he's just very touch starved. sometimes it's just nice being held, even if that involves being threatened with a knife, you know? BUT WE KNOW HE'S NOT TOUCH STARVED. becuase we see him be physically affectionate with the rest of the French! he's not a loner who hasn't had any human touch in years!

which leads me to go, ok, well, then he's got to be very repressed. because that scene is quite sexual, blah blah blah homoeroticism of violence, while the rest of the affection we see him share with the others reads, at least to me, as very platonic. SO there is definitely some layer of repression going on - but I don't think it's a blanket repression of his sexuality. he's too confident later, when he goes up to Paddy and basically asks him if he's single while smoking his slutty little cigarette, to be someone who altogether panics at the concept of being into men. so WHY does he seem so irritated in the sand wrestling scene, and why does he throw in that line about having a wife and child? and I think the answer is that Augustin is a fairly controlled person. take the very composed confidence with which he shuts down Paddy's quoting TS Eliot at him, take the way he explains very flatly that they are used to following orders, take the fact that what he says to Paddy after the russian roulette is that they are here to defeat fascism, such a weirdly rational, to-the-point reaction to that entire interaction. he's upset in that moment, but he's getting himself together. he is very upset later, in episode 5, when he realises they've been betrayed, and even then, he keeps it together when he realises what Halevy is going to do, enough to encourage him and get himself out of there. Augustin is good at keeping it together, but here is the other thing - I think it's a facade. I think he's actually EXTREMELY intense, and this controlled rationality is not natural, it's learned. I am not sure why he would - though, again, I would guess that being gay in the 30s and 40s does all sorts of things to you - but I think he's taught himself to keep it together. and I think that's WHY he's so fascinated with Paddy, because Paddy is all but controlled. Paddy is a lot less insane than most people frame him as, but he is a wild, unbridled flood of emotion - especially when Augustin meets him, after Eoin, when the lines between feigned and real insanity start to blur. and I think seeing someone that's both so similar and so different from him is both scary and intoxicating for Augustin. imagine you spent your whole life teaching yourself to control your emotions and keep it together and then you meet a guy that's you, but whose heart is on his sleeve and constantly bleeding. terrifying, sure, but MAN, it must be a sight to behold.

and I think if you look at the sand wrestling scene from that angle, it makes it all make sense. he goes from the first moment of panic to elation to annoyance - and I think the annoyance is mostly at himself, because he's caught himself slipping, he's caught himself experiencing that rush of fear and adrenaline and probably attraction with a little too much pleasure. and that's why he says that he has a wife and child - not really because it's the being gay that he's repressing, but because he's kind of panicking at that flood of emotion (I personally believe he's lying in that moment - I know that it's possible that his file saying otherwise was just a mistake, but it's waaaay more interesting to me if he's lying. and, for what it's worth, the guy doesn't wear a wedding ring, on his hand or around his neck or anywhere else the costume department could have put it on him to signal that he's married). but later on, when he goes up to Paddy that evening, he's had enough time to kind of rationalise that emotion and slot it in a "well, yeah, that was kind of hot, but that's normal! regular body reaction to being pinned down by a hot man. nothing to unpack here", which obviously, insane thing to think, but it probably works for him, and I think that's why that relaxed confidence is back (of course, kinda too late by this point - my man is insane and now he's smitten).

so, tl;dr: I think Augustin is comfortable in his sexuality in the sense that I don't personally think he has too much of a problem with being attracted to men, but I do think he has a problem with, sort of, intense emotions and desire that he can't really control, and that's why he gets kind of irritated in that one scene. at the same time, he probably does want to break out of that strict control he's put himself in, which explains why he's immediately so taken with Paddy.

[rustchild]

desperately craving weird surrealist arthurania. Knights with no faces wandering through the mists. Seams between Christian and pre-Christian Britain gaping like open wounds. Beafts and visions. Maybe a monk. Maybe the monk is gay

[spoopdeedoop]

doctor “trauma dump to companion of five minutes” who

[bet-on-me-13]

Steph's Year of Recovery

So! Danny noticed that a new face had made it's way into town. Two new faces actually, an older lady known as Dr Leslie, and a girl about his age called Steph.

He first met them when he was at the hospital for one of his parents. They had stood too close to an explosion again, and he met them while he was in the waiting Area.

Dr Leslie was a strict but obviously caring older woman, who seemed to be the one taking care of Steph as a kind of maternal figure, or maybe more like an Aunt. She greeted him simply and then walked away to talk with the Secretary, leaving him to talk to Steph.

Steph was a blond girl in a Wheelchair, and he could see bandages piking out of her clothes as he talked to her. She explained that she had been in an Accident a few weeks ago that left her wheelchair bound for a while, and that she had come to Amity for their surprisingly good Medical Centers.

He and Steph got along really well, and by the end of it he asked her for her Number so they could continue talking later. They stayed in touch, and when she was finally permitted to leave the Hospital, he introduced her to his friends. They all got along like a House on Fire, both figuratively and in one memorable case very literally (Vlad had pissed them off okay!)

Eventually Steph recovered enough that she moved from a Wheelchair to Crutches, and their shenanigans got even more chaotic (Vlad hadn't even pissed them off, this time was just for fun)

The only thing Danny could complain about was the fact that Steph was hiding something from them.

She said that she had been in an Accident a while ago, which was why they had come to Amity in the first place. But Danny knew it was more than that.

He could sense lingering traces of Death coming from her after all.

...

Steph honestly loved her current life.

Sure she had lost everything, her home, her health, her friends, her life, but she had gained new things too! Like Danny and the Gang! They were honestly some of the best friends she had ever had, and for some reason they just clicked with her instantly.

Danny was interesting and funny, Sam was vegan and a badass, Tucker was smart and witty, they all fit with her personality perfectly! It almost felt like she bad been friends with them for years. (She ignored the way her heart skipped a beat when she saw them)

But she still couldn't shake the sense that they were hiding something from her.

She knew it had something to do with the Ghost Problem in the town. And wasn't that a kicker, there was a whole Supernatural Ghost Outbreak in this Town and nobody knew about it. Dr Leslie had said that Amity was off the map enough to hide from Bruce, but she hadn't mentioned it was hidden from the Justice League itself!

Danny, Sam, and Tucker definitely knew more about it than they let on however. Whenever a Ghost Attack would happen, at least one of them would rush off with some practiced excuse and return after the Ghost Attack was over all dirty. She could guess what was going on, and she really didn't like it.

(This had killed her, she had died doing what they were doing, she didn't want to lose them)

Eventually she had to confront them, coincidentally on the same day they decided to confront her.

"Are you Vigilantes?" / "Did you die?"

"..."

"What?" / "What?"

[devouringbodies]

will graham being bi and aware of his attraction to men and simultaneously being oblivious to any sort of sexual tension in his relationship with hannibal until bedelia spells it out for him is just the objectively funnier, and more enlightened interpretation to fellow dumbass bisexuals.

[hypogryffin]

Erina and Sophie....

erina and sophie..... perhaps even sophie and erina....

[lgbtiwtv]

god. god. the significance of the diary pages about claudia’s assault being torn out raggedly by Louis, clearly in a fit of guilt and anguish and trauma, vs the diary pages about louis mourning lestat and regretting killing him being removed with surgical control and precision. by armand. this wasn’t a heat of the moment action it was deliberate and calculated and I can’t stop thinking about it

[hedgehog-moss]

Update on May 1st protests and how the french goverment handled them?

^ The May 1st protests were pretty violent esp. in Paris; two cops were set on fire (they're ok, one has 2nd degree burns), lots of destruction in city streets, and hundreds of injured protesters. The French gov is sticking to its M.O. of denying any police violence against protesters, emphasising protesters' violence and portraying it as mindless anti-democratic savagery rather than the result of their own anti-democratic policies.

There were more people protesting in the streets on Monday than at any other May Day protest in the past 20 years (by a large margin—7 to 10x more people than usual.) And the numbers are still impressive in terms of this current social movement—there were about 1.2 million people at the first protest against the pension reform in January, 900K at one of the February protests, around 1.1M on March 7 and I think 1.2M on March 23rd... We're in May and there were 800K people in the streets on Monday (using the police's probably low estimate). The first marches earlier this year were peaceful; people started destroying shit in March after the 49.3 (=the gov not letting elected representatives vote on the reform); in the following weeks we saw a brutal escalation of police violence + suppression of just about any means of non-violent protest, which results in more violence.

The vast majority of protesters are still peaceful, but in terms of providing context for the increased violence, well—people protested peacefully, peaceful protests got banned. People banged pots and pans, pots and pans got banned and confiscated. People started a petition on the National Assembly website which got a record number of signatures, the petition was closed before its deadline and ignored. MPs asked (twice!) for a national referendum on the reform to be held, their requests were denied. Electricity unionists cut power in buildings Macron was visiting, now he travels around with a portable generator. Unions tried to distribute whistles and red cards (penalty cards) to football supporters before the French Cup finale last week, so the ones who wanted could use them if Macron showed up (he ended up hiding and greeting the footballers indoors rather than publicly on the stadium lawn); the police prefecture tried banning union members from gathering outside the stadium to distribute these items (although the ban was struck down by the judiciary as it was illegal, like most bans these days...)

Confiscating saucepans was already so absurd it felt like a gratuitous fuck you, but now they're trying to prevent the distribution of pieces of red paper. Cancelling petitions that would have had no real impact anyway. Prosecuting people for insulting Macron. Arbitrarily arresting hundreds of nonviolent protesters to intimidate them out of protesting (guess who's left then?). The French gov is systematically repressing democratic or nonviolent means of making your opinion heard, and when people get more violent they're like "This is unacceptable, don't these terrorists know there are other means of expressing dissent??" Where? This week a 77-year-old man was summoned to the police station and will be forced to take a "citizenship course" for having a banner outside his house that read "Macron fuck you" (Macron on t'emmerde). Note that he would have been arrested (like the woman who was arrested at her home and spent a night in police custody for calling Macron "garbage" on Facebook) but they decided not to only because of his age.

So that's where we're at; on Monday two cops caught on fire (well, their fireproof suit did) after protesters threw a Molotov cocktail at them. (The street medic who tried to help them with their burns ended up getting shot by a cop's riot gun a few seconds later—with French police no good deed goes unpunished!) The media talked a lot more about this incident than about the fact that the cop who got most severely injured on that day (broken vertebrae) was injured by an explosive grenade that a colleague of his meant to throw at protesters (you can see it at the end of the video below). If police with all their protective gear get so badly injured by their own weapons, no wonder the worst injuries have been on the protesters' side. (nearly 600 injured protesters on May 1st, 120 severely, according to street medics.) I'm not including images of these incidents in the video but on May 1st a protester had his hand mutilated by a police grenade + a 17 year old girl was hit in the eye by a grenade fragment, may end up losing it (during the Yellow Vests protests, Macron's first attempt at repressing a social movement, 38 protesters lost an eye or a hand).

What you see in the video: cops charging the front of a march to tear a banner off people's hands then retreating and drowning the street in tear gas when protesters throw paint bombs at them (protesters have umbrellas because of police drones); at 0:30, a journalist saying "They're not even arresting him, just kicking him when he's down—they kicked him right in the face!" then police spraying with tear gas protesters who try to fend them off; at 0:46 when a protester being arrested asks a journalist if he's filming and starts reading out loud a cop's ID number, another cop shoves the journalist and throws him to the ground; at 0:54, an Irish journalist runs away from the police tear gas grenades that you hear going off, at 01:08, the incident mentioned above when a cop drops a grenade he tried to throw, which explodes in his group, breaking another cop's vertebrae. There's a lot more I'm not including, like how CNN said "there's so much tear gas in Paris, our foreign correspondent can barely breathe", how another journalist was hit by a sting-ball grenade (he was also bludgeoned on the head so hard it broke his helmet—even though cops know the people wearing helmets are journalists...), and yet another journalist who was calling out a cop for aiming at people's heads with his riot gun (which is illegal) ended up having the guy aim the riot gun at his head from 2 metres away (getting shot with this "less lethal weapon" from that distance would be lethal.)

All of these videos are from May 1st (most of them from this account monitoring police violence.)

So yeah, nonviolent protests followed by violent police repression and bans of nonviolent means of protesting result in more violent protests. The French government responds by a) pikachu surpris, b) condemning violent protesters and praising violent police to the skies, c) continuing to ban everything they can think of. Confiscating saucepans didn't work but confiscating pieces of red paper will do the trick! Let's prosecute people for bashing or burning an effigy of Macron, because banning symbolic violence always works to prevent actual violence! And this week after the May 1st protests we learnt that the gov is thinking of making street barricades illegal, because that'll definitely solve everything. It's going to be interesting for history teachers to teach students about the 1789 revolution that allowed us to take down an absolutist regime and become a republic, under a government that banned barricades because they see them as terrorist anti-republican structures.

^ Statue symbolising the French Republic (on Place de la République in Paris) dressed with a 'Macron resign' shirt by protesters on May 1st.

[nintendont2502]

john as a heir who inherits the narrative freely, doesnt even know that he has the narrative, and barely changes it unless hes being directed to by some outside force (breath as directionless, independent, detatched, free). john as a character whos never existed at the same time as an alternate version of him, a character who never has to face himself and remains largely unchanged by the end of the narrative even as it changes around him

ult dirk as a prince who destroys the narrative and destroys through the narrative, who is determined to reshape it in his own image and 'fix' it, who will make himself the villain if thats what it takes and do whatever he has to in order to help everyone, even if it means hurting them (heart as putting on and taking off masks when needed, inflexible, cold, building a coherent narrative of their own story). dirk as a character who constantly has to face himself via one of his many alternate selves, who can only gain control by uniting those alternate selves into one coherent whole

john is homestuck and ult dirk is homestuck post canon and one of the first things he does when he gains power is kill john (kill homestuck) through the narrative. destroying the (previously free, directionless, detatched) narrative and destroying that narrative through your own (inflexible, cold) narrative. theyre so yaoi

[zer0point5ive]

[cinnamonsikwate]

"why couldn't shuro have just been honest about what he felt with laios and falin it's not that hard" are you. are you White

[exilepurify]

it’s been four months since December 2022 and I’m still not over the fact that Reigen was apparently so haunted by guilt from that one time in S2E2 where he scolded Mob for eating too many french fries that it showed up in the super emotionally charged eyecatcher montage during the series finale.

I wonder if reigen will ever find the closure he needs to free himself from the poltergeist of regret that obviously follows him around as a result of this incident. the confession incident really had reigen re-evaluating everything from the past three years.

[viperwhispered]

Too Fast

Part 4 of Jamil versus feelings (aka How Not to Be Swept Under, aka the Too Much series). Let's see how Jamil's plan of action pans out. Part 1, part 2, part 3.

Jamil had a plan.

He already knew he could make you smile, even laugh. That you sought out his company - and not just to sample his cooking (or Kalim’s generosity). Like that time when Jamil had helped you with your homework - considering how little you needed the help, it seemed to have been an excuse on both your sides to just spend time with each other.

Jamil knew the foods that would bring that delighted sparkle to your eye, knew when to step in before you were overwhelmed. You often shared any news with Jamil, filling him in the little happenings of your life - and had gotten him to do the same with you, too. He’d listened to you reminisce about your childhood and your home, even knew a few embarrassing secrets you’d revealed over the course of your conversations.

In short, it was clear that you had some degree of fondness for him.

However, Jamil had yet to ascertain the exact nature of how you felt about him.

But he was certain he could pull it out of you. Nudge you to act, to talk, so that he could gather those signs to tell him if you were open for more.

He’d see if you truly didn’t speak to others the same way you did to him. If you truly didn’t give others that look which always made things so difficult for him.

There had been those times when you had blushed in Jamil’s presence. You’d flustered, stuttered, restless fingers showing your nervousness.

But Jamil needed to make sure if it was because of him, or just the situations you’d been in.

Jamil had recognized the things you were doing, how you kept on getting closer to him.

But he needed to know if it all was enough for what he wanted with you.

And if not… Well. Perhaps there was something to be done about that. Given enough time, enough attention…

He could be a listening ear, a supporting presence, get to know you further, if he needed to.

Yes, he wanted you to be his sooner rather than later, but if he had to wait and work for it, he would.

After all, it was not like him to ruin such things with haste.

When Jamil’s phone buzzed, he pulled it out without even thinking about it.

Before, he always dreaded it, his phone typically only coming to life when Kalim needed something or there was another crisis to deal with.

Yet, nowadays, there was always the hope of it being you.

Jamil hefted his gym bag over his shoulder and unlocked his phone. The basketball club had run late today, and he needed to hurry back to Scarabia - but not before checking the message.

Thankfully, you were indeed the sender.

Hey, wanna go out to the town sometime? Cater told me there’s a nice cafe that opened recently.

Another message popped in before Jamil could finish reading the first.

Like, go out as a date.

The phone slipped from Jamil’s grip, landing on the locker room bench with a thud.

“Hey, Jamil, what’s got you so clumsy?” Ace said, peering at Jamil with a teasing grin.

Jamil cursed himself internally, quickly hiding your messages from view. Normally, he would’ve been walking across campus at this time, perhaps at the dorm already, rather than under the watchful eyes of his clubmates.

But, of course, not today.

“Just fumbled,” Jamil said, struggling to school his expression back to neutral.

“You sure about that? You’re looking awfully flustered,” Ace snickered.

“Ooo, is Sea Snake getting some exciting messages?” Floyd asked, looming closer.

Jamil gave both of them a sharp glare - the effect perhaps hampered by his flushed complexion. He really did not need Floyd and Ace’s antics on top of this bombshell right now.

“Must be the effects of the practice,” Jamil said with a tone of finality.

Not that that seemed to deter the two, now that they’d gotten a taste of blood in the water.

Rather than bickering with them further Jamil grabbed his things and hurried off. He almost expected Floyd to chase after him, even half-dressed as Floyd still was, but thankfully the eel did not seem to be in that much of an inquisitive mood today.

Small blessings.

Jamil was barely aware of his surroundings as he walked, his heart beating a more frantic rhythm than it had during the practice.

How was he supposed to respond to you?

He had not even done anything as he planned, and you already…

Jamil shook his head, tried to keep himself together despite the turmoil your little messages had thrown him into.

Sure, he had intended to push you to act, to reveal the nature of your feelings.

Yet that had left Jamil woefully unprepared for this.

Jamil stared at his phone again, barely remembering to blink or breathe, nearly colliding head-first with some other students.

Finally, he typed out a message.

Are you serious?

Your reply was almost immediate.

Yes

Jamil fidgeted with the strings of his hood, watching the little bubble that told him you were still typing.

Sorry for being a coward and not asking in person.

If you don't feel the same way we can just pretend this never happened.

Oh how Jamil wished he could see your expression right now, could talk to you in person, get to the bottom of this.

Or would it be better to respond to you in text, without worries of stumbling over his words, or getting caught in your eyes like a deer in headlights?

Jamil started writing a reply, frowned and erased it, began to compose another.

He took a deep breath, briefly lifting his eyes from the phone to check where he was going.

What did he have planned for today, anyway? How much time could he clear for you?

Mind abuzz with plans, Jamil tried again.

Can I come over later? I’ll bring something to eat.

I’d rather talk this over in private first, if that’s okay with you.

A few more messages, setting the time, assuring you that he was not opposed to your proposal. Then Jamil shoved the phone into his pocket, reviewing his options.

He’d make something quick for Kalim’s dinner while preparing something to share with you. (What could he make with the time and ingredients he had that you really liked? What about dessert? He knew how much you enjoyed sweets, after all.)

Kalim had no homework deadlines or quizzes tomorrow, and Jamil’s own schoolwork schedule had room for adjustment, as well. They could catch up later. (He’d have to make sure he looked impeccable. Would flowers be too much? Would he have the time to visit Sam’s for them?)

Jamil might have to get up a little early tomorrow for a few things, but he’d deal with that tomorrow. (What if you’d let him stay late? How close would you let him tonight? Would you let him hold you? Maybe even kiss you?)

When Jamil realized that he was standing in front of Sam’s shop instead of the mirror to Scarabia, he simply stared at the storefront for a moment, uncomprehending.

Then Jamil shook his head, frowning.

He’d have to focus, keep his mind on target. He couldn’t afford to mess this up.

Yet, despite his best efforts, Jamil salted the food twice, having to scramble to fix the flavor. When he left Scarabia he nearly left behind the small package he’d picked up at Sam’s, forced to turn back to retrieve.

And when he walked over to your dorm, Jamil had to consciously tell himself to slow down, lest he’d appear too frazzled by the time he made it.

Mentally, Jamil berated himself. Get a grip! After everything Kalim has thrown your way, you can definitely handle this.

Yet, Jamil still had to steel himself before he rapped on your door.

Jamil’s greeting nearly caught in his throat when he saw you.

He could see the effort you’d put in, dressing up a little, yet more than that it was all those emotions swirling on your features that took his breath away. The nervous excitement which had you fidget in place, the radiance in your smile, the way your eyes seemed to drink him in…

Jamil cleared his throat, determined to not drown in you.

“Thank you for accepting me on such short notice,” Jamil said, handing you a small, neatly wrapped box.

With a thrilling sense of satisfaction Jamil noted the way your eyes widened, how your voice wavered when you invited him in. How you smiled when you found out what he had picked out for you, the gift clearly finding its mark.

Still, you were both stepping around each other, following the scripts of a regular visit when this felt like anything but.

Jamil took out the food he’d made, insisted he’d help you with setting the table despite your protests.

It was an awkward dance, both of you trying to regain your footing.

“I just… feel like I have to say it,” you finally said as you were setting out the food. “That I like you. A lot. So…”

The way you spoke, pouring out your feelings, hesitant and nervous as you were…

Yes, Jamil had wanted to talk this over in person, had wanted to see and hear you say it. Still, now he had just as much trouble meeting your eyes as you had, both of you busying yourselves with the tableware.

You were so nervous, and Jamil felt the urge to pull you close and chase away all your worries.

But he would not push.

Not when he had his hands full keeping his own self under control.

A part of him couldn’t help but feel like he’d deceived you, somehow, for you to hold him in such regard.

And when the silence lingered… What could he even say?

Jamil had thought of it, sure, imagined how you’d react to his words… But at this moment nothing would rise to his tongue, all the carefully picked words gone from his mind.

Jamil took your hand, holding it in between both of his. He spoke your name, oh so softly, his voice cracking under the weight of it.

Hearing himself made Jamil cringe, yet he pushed on.

“I’m… I am glad to know we both want the same. That we feel the same.”

For a brief moment, Jamil hesitated. Then he raised your hand to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles. His eyes flicked to yours, full of those feelings that threatened to sweep him under.

Just him being here with you like this… It told you enough, didn’t it?

Your blush certainly seemed to suggest so.

Jamil would make sure to cause your cheeks to burn brighter. Later.

Once his own face stopped feeling like a hot plate under the sun.

* * *

Later, you sat side by side on the couch, Jamil’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and your head resting against him.

You’d hardly stopped smiling the whole evening, and Jamil could feel the hurt in his own cheeks. 

It was strange, giving into those urges Jamil had been doing his best to hold back all this time.

Still, he had to admit that it was easier trying to move with the current rather than fighting against it.

Yes, the looks you gave him were still overwhelming, your words - and touch - sending his heart aflutter almost painfully.

When you sang his praises, looking at him like your happiness depended on him… It really was just a tidal wave, one far too large for Jamil to withstand.

Yet, finally, Jamil was beginning to allow himself to enjoy it all.

These things - your sweetness, your warmth - were only for him, after all. A heady thought, something that made him greedy for even more despite the overwhelming nature of it all.

Of course, Jamil still didn’t want to overstep.

Truthfully, he himself wasn’t ready for some of the scenarios tugging at the back of his mind.

With the wisdom of hindsight it seemed that you had always been ahead of Jamil, more aware of your feelings than he was of his.

Perhaps even more aware of his feelings than Jamil had been, considering how you’d pursued him - because that was what you had been doing, all this time.

Even if Jamil himself had been too busy contending with his own thoughts to truly see it.

Still, it was difficult even for Jamil to worry about such things with your warmth pressed against his side. Jamil played with your hair, let himself just soak up your presence.

And in that sweet moment Jamil finally stopped fighting, at least for a moment. He let go of his plans, his resistance, and allowed himself to be swept up by you.

Indeed, it hardly felt like he had a choice in the matter.

ETA: you can find the final / 5th part of this series here. This sure stayed in my drafts longer than I thought it would, but here we are. There’s still one more part coming and then we’ll be reaching the end of this particular journey. If you'd like to be tagged in my future works, do let me know! Jamil: alright I need to make sure they want to be with me and then I can move forward Reader: I’ve been trying to get with you for a while now and I can’t wait any longer or Jamil: I gotta gain control over this situation Reader: surprise :)

[dogmoder]

people who think that jimmy should've taken the 7 years deal

[mothric]

mob psycho 100 has impressed me on multiple counts but one thing that keeps standing out to me is the way Mob fills the role of Shonen Hero.

I love me a classic shonen protag. I love the hinata shoyos and the ash ketchums and the gokus, the spunky go-getters who are a little rough around the edges but want to be The Best at the Thing, or Save the World, or Win the Championship. I also love the protags who are reluctantly shoved into the role of Hero and must stumble their way into accepting it, whether or not they actually wanted it at first.

Mob isn't any of those. he doesn't start out as a bundle of boundless energy and optimism. his goal is not to be a hero or to subvert the trope by Resisting the Call. in fact, in the beginning, there isn't a Call. there is no Grand Quest for him to set out on. he's just... a kid, who happens to have psychic powers, and his goal is just to figure out who he is and what he wants and where his place is in the world. that's his hero's journey, really.

Mob doesn't come prepackaged with ambition; he has to work to unearth it. he has to figure out that he has any agency in the first place, and then use that agency to figure out what he wants. he has to handpick his own goals, and he has to choose growth. and he does choose growth, over and over. that in itself is a heroic feat. man, there are whole adults who won't do the internal work this kid does to figure himself out and adapt to new information! we constantly see him meet people who act and think so differently from him, and really think about the things they say and do, and learn something valuable in the process. we continually see him waking up to various aspects of himself, and clarifying his convictions, and adapting the ways he moves through the world, and taking on a more solid shape as a person. we continually see him choosing.

his growth is so organic, and natural, and marked by an increasing sense of self-possession, that by the time he gets to do Big Impressive Heroic Shonen Things, it feels earned. Mob Shigeo Kageyama has come into himself, and he must face some truly terrifying things, but he reaches out to meet them with both hands because he's already learned to meet his own personal challenges and the people in his life in the same way.

Mob doesn't start out as a Shonen Hero, but by the end of season 2 he IS one, because he earned it. he chose it, worked for it, grew into it, and it looks incredible on him.

[beautifulhigh]

Welcome to the next edition of Jen's meta ramblings

I have watched the movie at least once a day since it came out and I kid you not, I see something new every time. The fact that this is Matthew López's first directoral debut is just... I'm in awe. And you can tell how much he loves the story because of the way things like this are set up and played out

In the novel, Henry and Alex are skinny dipping in the lake at night, and so I absolutely got the change in both time of day and also attire. But let's talk about that little island shall we?

No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea

Every single one of us is not meant to be alone, without connection and without a link to someone else. We are parts of a whole and if we lose that... well. It's not good.

Henry is on that island, our prince who belongs to Britain and Henry Fox who thinks he has to belong to himself. The prince is forced into status and circumstance, of appearances and mindless ribbon cuttings. When he does something that means something - like the trip to the cancer ward - then he doesn't do it with cameras. I'd argue he's not the prince there, he's Henry Fox. The man who lost his father to cancer.

But this is not that meta.

Henry has shut himself off, shut himself away. He doesn't date the people he's interested in, he doesn't live his truth (and for very good and valid reasons). He has decided that while Prince Henry belongs to Britain, Henry Fox is an island.

And look who is swimming up to that island. Look who is coming out to Henry, having realised the night before that oh yeah, I do feel forever about him and so Alex swims out to that island.

And the first thing he does? He makes Henry laugh. He is silly and fun and the complete antithesis of the composed and collected Prince of Wales. And then he joins Henry, on his island.

This gorgeous overhead shot shows us that Alex is putting himself on Henry's right (protocol or his good side?) but he's also in the centre of the island. He's not on the edge of it. In the metaphor of Henry Fox's island, Alex is putting himself at the heart of it all. RIght before he lays out his heart to Henry.

The shot that broke our hearts too, along with Henry's. Because we can see the shore in the background now. We're reminded that islands are not - they cannot be fully independent. People cannot be islands and even though Alex is literally and metaphorically planting himself at Henry's side, Henry knows that this island he's formed for himself in his heart and his sense of self cannot stand if Alex is there. If Alex is with him then he is no longer an island. Henry Fox will not belong to himself and the sense of protection and self-preservation we see coming out in the Storming of Kensington is under threat.

So he bails.

The island is submerged, like the mythical Atlantis, because how do you render land useless? Drown it. How do you deal with water? Drain it away. He abandons his island and flees back to the only other space he has left - Kensington Palace - in an attempt to regroup. He drains his life of Alex and what he brings. He has to return to being the Prince of Wales because Henry Fox got too close. Because Henry Fox realised he was being loved by a man who would literally swim out to where he is.

Moment of appreciation for the shot. Matthew, you have a fucking talent and I cannot wait to see what else you do. Because our #imtaller boy looks so small here. So lost. When else have we seen someone look so small and lost?

Oh. Yeah.

When he's curling in on himself in an almost last-ditch attempt to protect himself and his boundaries from what is coming. You can see that he's no longer dry, that Alex's "shower time" has changed him. Alex brought laughter and love and water onto his island and Henry has just realised what this means. This isn't a visitor's visa. This is immigration.

Which is what makes THIS so much more. Back to our boy, drenched from the storm, plaintively asking Henry to talk to him.

Because yes, the Storming of Kensington happens during an actual storm, but by now you know I overead into everything... so once again we have Alex "swimming" out to Henry. He's dived right in and gone are the jokes, gone is the humour. He is here and he is asking to be let in and daring Henry to send him away.

This is Alex, serious and in love and following Henry to whatever landmass he is setting foot on. Henry is trying to be an island and Alex is out here going, "I'll just build another boat you fucker". A true 'ship if you will. He swam out to an island on a lake, he flew to a tiny island across an ocean. He is standing at Henry's borders and he isn't launching an offensive. He's just saying that if Henry wants to be cut off from everything then he needs to do the cutting himself.

Prince Henry felt like he belonged to Britain, Henry Fox felt like he had to belong to himself, and Alex turned up and went "nope. Mine now". (Insert additional historical quip about the English being colonised for once.) But there is still some truth in that: the Prince is part of England, and we should all belong to ourselves even in relationships. Henry just learns that the different parts of him can co-exist. Bit like how water and land can co-exist without one destroying the other.

Henry is Alex's North Star but he's also his solid ground. Insert quip about Alex colonising Henry and claiming him for his own, planting of flag, your innuendo of choice goes here. Pyramus wished there wasn't a wall - Alex straight up scaled Henry's.

There's a divergence between Prince Henry and Henry Fox, but at the heart of them both there's Henry. And this is the man that Alex sees, this is the man that Alex loves. Alex swims out to the island for Henry Fox, Alex pushes through the rain for Prince Henry. Alex holds steady in the storm of talking with King James/Queen Mary and the public.

And it started with Alex literally making his way out to Henry on an island: be that England for the Royal Wedding, a pontoon island on a lake, or knocking down Henry's walls.

To this moment. Which is very hard to grab a screenshot of, but Alex asks Henry to "take a walk" with him. This time it's Henry going to/with Alex. The fact that he's there is one thing (and a rant rather than a meta) but at this point they have each other. They belong to each other. Where one of them goes, the other one follows. Independent, together, co-existing.

Anyway. I'm sure there will be more bullshit ramblings and metas at some point. Follow me if you want more of that (but be warned: blank and empty blogs are blocked on sight) because we are not islands in this metaphorical storm of life. Let us swim out to one another, dry off with one another, and live a life with broken down borders and walls.

ETA: I now have another name to add to the thanks. Stephen Goldblatt, from the bottom of my soul, thank you