#and I’m a clod

[thekenobee]

Hello my deer <3

I'm coming up blank on good distracting activities but I would like to offer you my current favourite comfort reads... I know you enjoy Britishness and the peculiar idiosyncrasies therein... And these are very British, and very cosy and very wonderful.

You can find PDFs here free https://f.feedvu.com/author/diana-wynne-jones/ There also lovely audiobooks, which are slowly uploading to my google drive but some of which can be found on youtube

I heartily recommend the Chrestomanci series, starting with either Charmed Life or The Lives of Christopher Chant. (Charmed Life was written first but The Lives of Christopher Chant is set earlier so you can go either way.) Alternatively Howl's Moving Castle, on which the Studio Ghibli film is based, has wonderful Welshness in it. The Welshness didn't make it into the film which is a terrible shame but I also can see why they made that choice for an international audience...

Going for a walk with a Chrestomanci audiobook is a good way to escape from life for a little while.

Sales pitch over I hope you find a way through the next couple of days with the least pain possible <3

Deerest,

I’m so so sorry about not answering this lovely ask at the time- the longer I waited, the more awful I felt*hides in the bushes* just wanted to thank you so much for the recommendations and sources, I will start listening them today because I am in rather dire need of them.

I have only seen bits of the Howl’s Moving Castle and I didn’t spot the Welshness at the time (posh Welsh, they sound like us!) but now I’ll properly appreciate it!

<3<3<3

[florjb0rj]

[bluedeedeedoop]

What's with that person in your comments always talking about beat boxxing?

oh my god okay so it’s my friend who made this stupid fucking joke when i showed him a progress picture of a commission i was working on:

HE SAID IT LOOKED LIKE THIS ONE FUCK ASS MEME:

and now he won’t let the fucking beatboxing go.

so

thanks clod.

[bardy-boy]

I’m not saying that the rat grinders choosing to worship an angry deity is good or just or right. What I am saying is that they’re kids in high school who just died. And they’re scared and confused. I’m saying that in a brash moment of being alone in the dark, can you really blame them for taking a hand glowing in light, even if the light was red?

[djsherriff-responses]

No actually, was anyone gonna say that Zionism is a primarily Jewish movement that started because of how deeply hated Jewish people have been throughout history or was I , a white British woman, meant to just not raise eyebrows at everyone comparing it to Nazism?

(I’m talking about non Jewish people making that comparison to Jewish people and the Zionist movement, not how Israel’s treatment of Palestine is so horrific that holocaust survivors are calling it out to be clear)

[stergeon]

Hey ^^

Just finished catching up on the victors - just wanted to pop in and let you know that I'm enjoying it immensely and am very curious to see where you'll go with it.

Hope you have a great day ^^

thank you anon, i’m so glad you like it!!!! theoretically i’ll be updating Soon; chapter 4 is very close to being done and i’m extreeeemely excited for where it’s gonna go from there 😈

appreciate your message, thanks again for reaching out <3 hope you have a great day too!!

[landwriter]

not to sound like a country queer but man do i love my pitchfork

[i-thrive-off-of-my-kind]

Okay so the movie element is or has been pushing Clod, the classical straight young guy who’s crushing on an adult woman or just some girl who’s multiple years older than themselves. And this is a common trope, like growing up it was such a common thing for me(a 2010’s kid) to grow up seeing. For multiple reasons,1. Straight people do in fact indoctrinate kids so they feel like being straight is the only normal thing to be( or only thing you can be, so now that children shows have queer representation adults are quite upset) 2. This is another form of, you might have guessed it toxic masculinity, yes, yes I know “how?” You must be thinking and I’m here to tell you that, this is just another way to say that men cannot express their emotions properly(or should express it to kids their age or their parents or well I think you get it). 3.The movie elemental is probably some nostalgia rehash that adult can recognize familiar ideas from while kids can get a new movie experience. However if Clod isn’t some big part of the movie and the people they are trying to excite with their TikTok ads are going to the movie for nothing. But props to them for promoting a healthy relationship with fire boy and water girl but a gender swap au, because from the ads im seeing with just them is cute and nice they do seem to like(or love) each other a lot.

Anyway thanks for reading my rants:D

So in my earlier way that i wrote this it mentioned that (conservative) straight ppl say that gay ppl are indoctrinating kids when through history AND MEDIA representation they’ve been the one “indoctrinating “

Also i saw someone say that water boy is white and fire girl and her family is basically ment to represent Asian immigrants. And I haven’t watch the movie but some have said it is a very good racism allegory so i mean props to them and i really just think that they should show more of that in their trailers instead of the classic character of Clod.

[intobarbarians]

“i donated to four scams and now i have no money to donate to real ones” that is FOR SURE a lie. gfm refunds very quickly when a fundraiser is taken down.

[starryluminary]

The people that promoted Elemental are going to hell

[crystlizabeth]

Her ༉‧₊˚.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Stallion!Wife!reader

Summery: nobody expected Simon to walk into the ball with his women. His women who stood at 6’4 next to him in her red bottom’s.

Warnings: slight suggestive themes, cursing, reader is blackcoded! As always not proofread!!

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

Simon had mentioned and even talked about his wife multiple times, shit the team has even seen pictures of her. Yet when Johnny and Kyle watch him walk into the hall with her damn. Her arm linked with his as she stood next to him standing the same height as him, yes she had heels but danm was all those two boys could think their jaws dropped. And like I’m the pictures she was pretty, gorgeous to be expected, her confidence radiated off her. The black silky dress she wore falling down to her feet but stood off the floor a slit on the left side, her hair long falling down to her butt. Yes her hair she bought it that lace was secured and transparent shit she looked good and she knew it. And Simon on her arm shit.. nobody could touch her or her man.

“Close y’er mouth.” Price elbowed Kyle in the side.

Kyle looked over at his captain then back at the couple who made their way over. Up close Kyle would be lying if he said he wasn’t just a bit intimidated, she stood tall and next to his lieutenant yeah he might piss himself.

The boys turned their attention towards Simon and his wife her arm still intertwined with his her hand holding Simons bicep. Her nails freshly manicured and with the looks of it Simon didn’t mind spending his cash on her just from the look of her rings, engagement and wedding. Johnnys eyes met hers first after being introduced,

“I’m John, but LT calls me-“

“Johnny,” she chuckled a bit her lips curling into a toothy smile, her voice was smooth and on the deeper side.

Johnny smiled a bit wider not minding the look from his Lieutenant. “Yeah, so he talks ‘bout me yeah?”

She nodded moved her hair over her shoulder “mmhm he dose, I heard a lot about you.” She spoke taking Johnnys hand shaking it.

He watched as Simons hands snaked around your waist, his eyes looking back up to his LT a cocky smirk on his face only for Simons to roll his eyes.

Price and Kyle introduced themselves a bit of conversation continued before Johnny couldn’t take it and more and finally ask her “How Tall are you?”

“Bro.” Kyle groaned becauseto him you cant just ask that.

She smiled her eyebrow raising “You look like you’ve been wanting to ask me.”

Johnny nodded “I have but I gotta be polite ya know.”

“I’m 5’11- 6’0 foot on a good day.” She answered leaning into Simon.

“No f’ckin way.”

She nodded, “Alright McTavish you can stop slobbering all over my wife yeah?” Simon spoke his hold on her hip tightening.

She watched as the two men began to bicker nothing foul but just fun. As the night went on people started to leave and eventually Simon said his goodbyes as did she.

Walking out the clod air hit her arms so she cuddled up to Simon as they walked “Told you they like ya.” He said.

“I wasn’t to worried I’m good with people, did you see their faces when I walked in with you. Did you not tell them.” She asked.

He shook his head opening the passenger door of his truck, “Didn’t feel the need to.” He said his hands falling on her waist. His head tilting and he looked at her his eyes going down them back up he looked like he could devour her right there.

“You lookin at me like that but we both know danm well there ain’t enough room in that back seat for us.” She teased pulling on his belt.

“I’ll make room trust me.” He whispered pressing his body against hers her boobs spilling over the top of her dress.

“Mmhm you said that last time and I ended up with bruises.” She hummed her hands running up and down his arms.

Simon smirked, “one day.”

“Fo shore.” She laughed, leaning forward her lips meeting his.

His fingers dug into her flesh pulling her closer as her hands held his face kissing him.

“You can have all this when we get home. Just keep yo hand to yo’self yeah? You think you can do that big boy?” She teased biting her lip her dark eyes looking at his face. Simon breathless with snugged gloss on his face.

“Yes Ma’am.” He nodded.

“Good.” She finished kissing his lips once more before tapping his hands.

Simon lifted her into the seat, his hands soon starting on her heels taking them off putting them in the back seat. He kissed her calves “Thank you baby.” She smiled stretching her feet.

“Always love.”

Simon was down bad for her. He would do anything and everything she asked but he also knew she would so the same.

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

I know this isn’t much but I have plans for Stallion!reader and ofcc take requests from y’all what do y’all wanna see?

Tags: @hollyjollybakanigga, @twdhtgawm !!

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

See though the mist

Heyy I’m back with part two now let’s go!

As Danny woke up he expected to see a clod white  ceiling like he has been for the past … week or so..? Yeah that’s about the right amount of time right? How long had he been locked up in that cold white room that smelled of chemicals and the metallic blood smell and the sounds of their screams…wait that was him wasn’t it huh….

….oh wait where is he Danny thinks with suddenly clarity and a bit of panic and sits up and that turns out to be a bad idea as a jolt of pain goes through Danny “ok bad idea bad idea” Danny saids voice a bit strained by the pain and falls back on to his back that when Clockwork in all his Cyptid ass glory “Hello Daniel how are you feeling?” Clookwork ask “like I’ve been hit with a bus” Clockwork just nods

A few hours later

Danny’s walking next to Clockwork as they walk to….somewhere and as they get closer to a forest? “So where are we going? You really just gave me bandages and some new clothes which thank you” Danny liked the new outfit it was white and hangs of his shoulders ( due to not really being fed by the GIW) and goes to his ankles and he’s pretty sure this counts as a dress but it was comfortable and a lot better than his old clothes that were covered in his own blood ( he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to wear tight clothes like that ever again ) anyway they get to the edge of the forest and that’s when Clockwork specks up “Now Daniel I am unable to take care of you-“ Danny was about to interject and say he didn’t need to be taken care of but Clockwork holds up a hand to stop him and continues “ but I know someone who can be of help to you and your unborn child” Clockwork says as they walk into the forest it takes a few minutes….or 30 times weird in the forest Danny finds himself with clockwork in front of a castle.

The castle itself looks extremely overgrown and taken care of just enough so the greenery doesn’t take the castle down with its weight but still very overgrown, Danny and clockwork walk into a large part of the castle it looks like where the throne should be but it is probably under the gigantic tree that is so big it goes through the roof and it’s surrounded by a large lagoon with many different types of water plants and if look into it you can see the trees gigantic roots that are bigger than him and isn’t that humbling

As Danny looks around his eye catch a beautiful black snake with green eyes ( Danny’s always thought snakes were very cute) that is wrapped around one of the branches of the tree and it seems the snake sees him to as they start to slither down from their branch but Danny can’t really think about it to long as a gigantic snake ( not as big as the tree but big ) and its head was outstretched out to them but the rest of its body was still in the tree an then a voice come from the snake “…Hello Clockwork…”

=====================================

It’s been years since Vesper and Clockwork have seen each other after Vesper needed his help with the castle some humans thought it would be a good idea to try to set it on fire to get the land and to kill the snakes

As the castle was burning down with all of us snakes inside that when clockwork came and said he would help keep the humans out and exchange Vesper own him a favor not that he minded to much if the castle and the Den was safe that good enough for him

but he was not expecting that when clockwork would came to get the favor is that he would bring a hatching why isn’t it with their mother and Den??? But as clockwork explains the hatchings ( he now knows as Danny) situation after all he feels is

PURE RIGHTEOUS RAGE

How dare these humans hurt a HATCHING ( that is with a hatching himself) and from the other snakes hisses ( yells in snake) they are outraged as he is, it would not surprise him if the others in the den have already decided this boy is now one

And he is in agreement with them

And that’s it for part two! Sorry if the words are weird if your see any of my stuff you can tell I have bad grammar

Anyway hope you guys liked it byeee

=====================================

TAGGS

@thatoneweirdshipper @phantasama @siluver @fucking-brains-out

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hello lovely! I have a pretty weird/specific request. So if you don’t feel like writing it no big deal. I have celiacs, which means anytime I eat gluten(bread and such) my body turns autoimmune. Meaning every time I eat it(on accident but I just got diagnosed we all thought I just had a shitty immune system and a sensitive tummy so it’s been a bit of an adjustment) I end up getting an upper respiratory infection/issues or the flu(body aches and all). Anyways can I have a small story with whichever marauder you think fits it, with clod/flu supplies always at the ready and just not minding that she is ALWAYS sick 🥺 if not it’s a okay I understand 💕💕 just feel free to delete ☺️☺️

hi hunny! i hope you are doing well! remus lupin x fem!reader

cw: mentions of being sick, flu like symptoms

650 words

When the bedroom door opened, you could see the immediate concern written over Remus’ face. Under usual circumstances, he would get home about an hour before you, more if things at work were particularly swamped. Seeing that you were home obviously long before him, wrapped in twisted sheets and looking miserable, was enough to make him panic. Still, he was as gentle as ever when he crouched by your bedside, the back of his hand pressed to your scorching cheek. 

“Thought I saw your shoes by the door.” He mused, a deep groove making its home between his brows. “You feeling sick, dove?” You nodded, a wave of nausea going through you from the movement. 

“Lunch was catered at work today. My food was mislabeled, I got sent home a few hours ago.” You said miserably, squirming and desperately trying to burrow further to escape the chills. Though that meant you were too warm to be comfortable. Remus cooed sadly at your struggle. 

“I’m so sorry, darling.” He said, smoothing your damp hair from your forehead. “Have you taken anything?”

You shook your head. “When I got back I just laid down.” You knew he would to chide you, but he could see how bad you felt. His mouth was downturned, pressed into a sad line as he took in your state. 

“Are you aching? I’ll get you some paracetamol.” 

You groaned. “I think I’m out.” He ignored you, moving over to his side of the bed. You turned to watch him as he dug through his bottom bedside drawer, fishing out a thermometer and various clattering plastic bottles. He held the reader over your forehead, humming disapprovingly at the beep. 

“37.7.” He sighed, setting the thermometer down on your nightstand. “Have you eaten anything since you got sick, lovely? You can’t have these on an empty stomach.” 

You shook your head, sitting up. “I don’t know if I can handle any food right now.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, gently caressing your jaw and pouting. 

“I can get you some fruit and tea? You don’t need much, just a little something.” When you still looked unsure he sighed, though still eternally patient. “If you don’t have something it’s just going to hurt worse, baby dove.” 

You sighed. “I can try.” You smiled, more for his sake than yours. He kissed your scorching forehead. You pulled away fast, feeling a coughing fit overtake you. Remus cooed and rubbed your back as you struggled. 

“You poor thing, that doesn’t sound very good.” He grabbed the tissue box and covered your mouth for you. You wanted to bat him away and shriek, but you leaned against his chest miserably. 

“I’m sorry I always make you do this.” You muttered. He pulled away, looking at you confused. 

“You make me do… what, exactly?” He still stroked your face and head gently. 

“I’m always sick and you always have to look after me. It’s not fair to-” You couldn’t finish the sentence without coughing again. He let your fit ease before he rebutted.

“You don’t make me do anything. I don’t, and would not, do anything I wouldn't wish to.” He said intense, yet kind. “And it’s hardly your fault, it’s not like this is fair on you either, lovely girl.” 

You sighed. “You didn’t sign up for this.” He looked up thoughtfully for a moment before leaning in close, nearly touching his forehead to yours. 

“I signed up for you. All, of you.” His tone was sweet, but left no room for argument. 

“Thank you.” You mouthed. He smiled, kissing your cheek. 

“I’m going to get you some food.” He said, standing up. “And then you should get some rest.” You resisted the urge to chase him. 

“Will you stay with me?” You asked, hopeful.

“That was never in question.” He kissed your forehead again.

[mollywog]

Tomorrow

A prequel to Complicated (can be read as a stand alone) Set the night of the 74th Reaping

She’s wandering home when her ears perk at the sound of heavy footfall approaching. Silently slipping into the shadows along the path, a figure appears several paces in the direction of the still buzzing festivities. The light is low but the broad shoulders and blond waves unmistakably belong to Peeta Mellark. She watches with interest as he meanders alone. Though the path is clear and straight, his feet are unsteady.

She frowns: He’s drunk.

It’s not that surprising, half the kids their age are probably worse off than him, it’s the night of the Reaping after all. With her sister’s first reaping safely behind them, even she had stopped by the celebration, though she hadn’t had more than a sip of white liquor.

She and Peeta aren’t friends, they don’t even know each other really, but she still feels a twinge of disappointment at his current state. She’s always held him in higher regard than the other boys at school.

In the next step he stumbles; Unable to correct his footing in time, he tumbles to the ground, grunting as he lands. He rolls to his back and sits up, cursing under his breath as he inspects his knee.

“You alright?” she says, emerging from her hiding spot.

He startles at her voice, eyes widening as he spots her. “oh, Katniss, hey. I didn’t know you were there.” He pulls himself to his feet, wincing when he puts weight on his left leg.

“You okay?” She repeats, looking him over as she approaches; there’s a tear in his pants just below the knee, but she doesn’t see blood and he was able to stand on his own: all good signs.

“Ah, yeah, nothing hurt but my pride.”

“Good thing no one saw you.”

“You saw me.”

The usually confident boy looks bashful, and she wonders why he would care: She is no one, at least to him. “I won’t tell,” she says in reassurance. His lips upturn in a poor imitation of a smile and she scowls. “Promise,” she adds defensively.

At this, he shakes his head and laughs; unlike the smile, it’s genuine, “I believe you, Katniss.”

Her stomach swoops at the sound and she turns her head to conceal her own smile. “Well if you’re okay...” she trails off, not really wanting to leave, but not knowing what else to say.

“Could I walk with you for a bit? Make sure you get home safe?”

“Seems like you might be the one in need of an escort.”

He chuckles, “maybe so, but I can’t go home just yet… not like this.”

She frowns. Her parents would be none too pleased to see her in his state, but their lecture would be nothing compared to the back of Mrs. Mellark's hand. She shrugs her assent before turning towards the path, looking back to ensure that he follows.

It takes him a moment to register her response, when he does he jogs a few paces to catch up, “I don’t usually do this, you know?”

She doesn’t know: It must be written on her face because he continues, “Drink too much... or at all really,

She shrugs despite feeling a small bit relieved.

“Today was my brother’s last reaping; he wanted to celebrate and was feeling generous... I don’t know, I think he thought he was doing me a favor.”

“By giving you a hangover?” she raises a brow.

“Nah, he wanted me to loosen up. Relax enough so I’d talk to someone.”

She snorts.

“Hey, are you laughing at me?”

“I didn’t suppose you’d need help talking to anyone.”

“It’s a girl.”

Her heart sinks, “You talk to plenty a girls.”

“Not like this.”

She looks down at the plumes of dust her boots kick up as she walks. “So, did you? Talk to her?”

He hums an affirmation.

“And how did it go?”

“Not very well I think. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a drunk… or an oaf, or a clod… probably all three.”

She frowns. A very small part of her thrills at this; Had he succeeded, he might be off with this girl right now rather than here with her. But the greater part of her feels his disappointment. “I’m sorry.”

He grimaces, “and now she pities me, so definitely not good.”

Her eyes go wide and snap to his as realization dawns.

“I should have known the first time we spoke I’d make a fool of myself,” he adds as if in confirmation.

“Me?” Giddy laughter bubbles up, until a breathy giggle escapes.

He groans, “you’re laughing at me? This keeps getting better.”

“Not at you. I’m just… surprised?”

“You know what; Nevermind. Can we just… forget it?”

But she doesn’t want to forget…

Back when she was eleven, her father had been terribly ill but determined to return to work, her mother disagreed. Her parents had argued that night; they never did that. The fight ended with her mother conceding and making their evening tea. But what her father hadn’t known was that she’d added a double dose of sleep syrup to his cup. He slept straight through his shift, only waking when the siren’s had sounded all across town. A section of the mine had collapsed and a number of his crew had been lost along with it, but thanks to her mother’s deception, her father had not been among them.

She’d watched the families that hadn’t been as lucky as hers struggle that winter: some driven to the bottle, others to Cray, and worse still were the children sent to the community home; their neighbors unable or unwilling to help.

She had been among the helpless crowd until the day she noticed the baker’s youngest son sneaking rolls to the starving children that begged at the merchants’ back doors, despite his mother’s ire.

His kindness had taught her that even at eleven she was not powerless to help. As someone who could depend on two meals at home, she had begun forfeiting her lunches to the children at school who had none. Her father too had taken notice, offering guidance and foraging knowledge to any who dared venture past the fence. It was imperfect but it wasn’t nothing.

Ever since that day, she’s kept an eye on Peeta Mellark with a growing fondness she never imagined he could return.

But he does. She doesn’t doubt his sincerity; those years of watching have only strengthened her certainty of his goodness.

They walk in silence for half a minute as she gathers her courage, “So what was your plan? Before your brother decided to help?”

He sighs, “I don’t know. Offer to walk you home, minus falling on my face. Talk about something other than what a fool I am; like our favorite colors or the best time of year to visit the meadow. And by the time we made it to your door, if all had gone well, ask if you’d want to do it again sometime…”

“That sounds nice.”

“What would you have said?”

“Hmm?”

“What if I had asked you out? If things had gone… better than this, do you think you might have considered it?”

They’ve stopped in front of her porch and she stares up at the house to find it quiet and dark: same as the rest of the street. “One minute. Wait here,” she bids instead of answering his question. Ducking in the house, she silently sorts through her mother’s jars until she finds what she’s looking for, measuring and parceling the herbs with practiced hands, the familiarity helping to steady her nerves.

Reemerging, she’s relieved to find him still there. “Make a tea with this tomorrow,” she says as she hands him the packet, “in the meantime drink plenty of water. It should help the headache that’s coming.”

“Sure thing Doctor Everdeen,” he gives a half hearted smile, “thank you.”

He turns to walk away, but her hand shoots out to stop him, landing on his arm, firm and warm under her fingers. His eyes flit from her hand to her face, holding her stare. Her heart flutters, “What if you ask me tomorrow?”

His brows knit together before shooting to his hairline, “yeah?”

She nods, and because the odds have been in her favor so far today, she pops up to her toes, kissing his cheek, “see ya tomorrow Peeta.”

Complicated | What If

[mowiththehat]

“…so you’ll understand why our joining in holy matrimony is impossible,”

concluded Honoria after some lengthy explanation the duration of which I had worried my elbow she’d end this sentence sort of completely oppositely, don’t you know.

“Ah, yes, rather!” I sighed, much relieved. But really, I needn’t have worried. Jeeves’s schemes always end up ending well, in the end. “Topping!”

“You haven’t listened to a word I said, have you, Bertie?”

“I say! Of course I have! That is, I mean to say—”

“Oh, shut it, you ass. The short version is: We can’t marry because I sail for Greece.”

“What! What! When is your ship?”

“Not like that, Bertie,” she said sternly and very much like a General that was disappointed in their soldier. “Good Lord. Haven’t you ever heard of Sappho?”

“The poet beazel?”

“Yes.” Honoria kind of looked at me intently. I gave the lemon a pensive scratch. I thought that perhaps Jeeves had mentioned her once, because he has mentioned almost all of the poets and philosophers and great thinkers to me. Something in the dark and faraway corners of the Wooster brain finally seemed to stir at the fifth-and-a-half scratch.

“Oh! Oh, I see! My word, why didn’t you say so?”

“I just did, you clod. Anyway, I’m telling you now because I rather thought we might be the same in regards to our proclivities.”

“What a preposterous notion! No, no, dearest Honoria, old chum and so on, you’re absolutely wrong! You couldn’t possibly be more wrong if you tried. Me! Love a woman! What a ridiculous idea.”

I barely dodged the steely fist that descended upon me to strike my arm. The second blow no one could have evaded.

“Oh, Bertie!” she laughed and ruffled my hair.

[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