J. R. R. Tolkien on escapism in “The Lord of the Rings” (x)

“Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisioned by the enemy, don’t we consider it his duty to escape?…If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we’re partisans of liberty, then it’s our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!” 

Okkotsu Yuuta (Jujutsu Kaisen)

💥→ → → 🍰

SEASON FIVE I SEE WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, WE SEEEEEE

THERE IS NO HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATION FOR THIS 👌🏻

Bonus from the episode

dk: *unsureunsure* oh okay baku bro *unsureunsure*

kb: *gets on the hood*

kb: *sits back*

kb: *stares at kiri*

ek: *stares back*

kb: well???? we doin this or not shitty hair???

ek: what exactly.. do you mean by “this”

kb: you. my lap. explode.

ek: *dazeddazed* me? your lap??? explode????? *dazeddazed*

kb: you’re starting to sound like shit for brains

kb: hurry up

kb: seats got your name on it i mean the villains are getting away

ek: *stilldazed* explode??? *stilldazed*

kb: ur not being v manly

ek: !!!

one day, offhandedly, you tell him about a thing you had done as a child. holding hands, three squeezes meant I love you.

suddenly he’s saying I love you all the time. sometimes more than you.

holding your hand, or with the two fingers around your wrist if he’s especially sweaty that day — one, two, three squeezes to your thigh while he’s driving.

or in the kitchen he will come up behind you, settle his firm hands on your hips, and consciously or unconsciously, he will tell you.

he blends into other ways, too. taptaptap through the grocery store with his hand on your low back. on your temple, three chaste kisses. wet ones down your spine or along your shoulder while he’s on top of you, breathing heavy.

he yelled at you for the first time one night and you ran to your shared bedroom, locked the door behind you, sunk down to the floor sobbing silently. it had been a long day, and he had snapped, lashed out when you tried to approach him.

everything was ugly and clipped as it came out of him. sharp and unforgiving like the fierce crash of waves, like the cut of a hundred claws.

but when he came to the door, his knocks were so soft you almost didn’t hear them.

knock knock knock.

three times.

afterwards he’ll break into that soft little smile. you /know/ the one. the one reserved for when he’s just woken up or right before he falls asleep — moments when he’s too tired to care, or when he’s all alone with you.

one day, still in his dirtied Hero uniform, he comes home to you with a (very expensive) bouquet. blooming and bright, each flower picked and fastened together in a bunch, but at the centerpiece are baby pink camellias. only three of them.

camellias — he doesn’t tell you that they mean thank you. for understanding him. for being patient with him. for loving him. he doesn’t tell you a lot of things.

he doesn’t tell you why he lets you toil around in his garden, even though you get soil everywhere when you plant your flowers between his vegetables. or that he keeps three boxes of your favorite chocolates stocked up in the pantry, just in case you run out.

he doesn’t tell you he feels he exists in two places, where he is and where you are.

he doesn’t tell you he can’t stop looking at your hands because they fit so perfectly in his.

he wishes he could, though.

because you are his and he is yours, and he loves you so endlessly he can never see beyond it. but he can’t say that. I love you. the three most difficult words in the world.

SEASON FIVE I SEE WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, WE SEEEEEE

THERE IS NO HETEROSEXUAL EXPLANATION FOR THIS 👌🏻

Bonus from the episode