#dalia replies

[oreganosbaby]

What are some notably bad takes you've seen on the Dick Pic incident?

Ok my biggest frustration with Dick Pic Incident takes are that most of them tend to take it as a very conventional #metoo sexual harrassment narrative. This flattens their characters and their relationship so much. Within this narrative, Roman is the predator and Gerri is the victim. Imo, the people who have this take are more likely to see Roman as being a sex pervert and are not the type to see Gerri as being predatory or as betraying him. I don't agree with literally any of those takes, obviously.

I feel like the whole narrative of Gerri as victim and Roman as predator completely misunderstands the intention of the dick pics proper because they are unable to let go of the socially normative idea of what an unsolicited dick pic is for. So, people tend to assume Roman intended to impose his will over her, to sexually threaten her, humiliate her or undermine her. This also leads to a misunderstanding of why the dick pic was so fucked up for Logan and why it was the final nail in the coffin for Roman. The idea that Roman was doing this with aggression goes against his entire deal as being the inverse of his father’s masculine ideals. Roman sent those pictures out of this hysterical overflow of psychosexual anxieties regarding the possibility of genuine emotion without the pretense of business. It parallels his anxieties about his mother’s wedding wherein he identifies with his mother and his anxieties about Logan’s feelings toward him. It seems people are forcibly decontextualising the incident so as to make it fit a particular narrative since that's the only way they can make sense of this or they're misinterpreting his character entirely as someone who is far more proactive and by extension, masculine than he actually is.

The other element is people misinterpreting Gerri's feelings about the dick pics. Like, she's not traumatised and she doesn't feel threatened by him. To some degree, Gerri legitimately sees herself as superior to Roman and able to control him to some degree. With the dick pics, he was getting out of her control but, I still don’t believe she understood this as him asserting himself or sexually threatening her. To Gerri, it was him being hysterical and clingy because if he really were asserting himself, he’d be able to act more independently and he clearly isn’t. His attachment to her is really the crux of her problem with this. What she wants is for him to let go of this libidinal attachment to her because she sees it as weighing her down and for him to learn to manage his libido so he could use it for more productive ends. Roman is unable to do this because his libido is what has guided every major career decision he’s made; it’s the libido that goes first, not the professional goals. She didn’t fully understand this and this is also why she thought their interests were aligned.

I think that both have a hard time situating themselves in relation to each other within the hierarchy. Within their “special conference calls” it’s simple but, in business, it isn’t. Roman assumes Gerri sees him for him-- that she sees him as impotent but, Gerri doesn’t see that and she expects him to “mature” out of this and advance himself. Both understand that regardless of her expectations, Roman’s power does largely come from his relation to Logan. The dick pics were obviously a huge liability to Gerri and she understood Roman as getting preferential treatment because he’s Logan’s son-- after all, that’s why she’s stuck with him in the first place. I think Roman can’t calculate the weight this has so, while he’s aware that this matters and it’s why she’s stuck with him, he likely didn’t expect his father to even suggest killing Gerri in favour of him. I think that a lot of people miss the complexity of the power dynamics here and don’t understand how Roman sees himself within the hierarchy.

[oreganosbaby]

yeah i’ve talked quite a bit about this before and i'd argue that roman's not really in a position to or capable of having a "better" worldview, let alone resisting in any meaningful way, not right now. honestly, i think that the socially liberal views roman has or espouses are almost secondary to the fact that roman doesn’t like capitalism nor does he believe in it. like, one of roman’s biggest issues is that he’s constantly trying to get at these pure emotional experiences while being in a position where it’s all extremely mediated by capitalism-- it’s as if he has this vague idea that love predates capitalism. to him, economics, politics, morality, justice, and certain social norms are all part of the same spectacle yet, it’s such a totalising one that’s so complicated. it’s sublime like some sort of man-made god. he can’t see any way out of it and it would be especially hard for him to because it would be against the family’s interests and he can’t bring himself to really go against them that way, especially not for something so futile. roman doesn’t even have friends anyway so, to be ex-communicated from the family would be horrifically lonely.

i think theres smth Ink Resting abt roman clearly grasping (and even having internalized) normative/moral claims from social liberals abt political issues. we know this bc he will deploy them (jokingly) when he needs them: “havent we killed enough women” “shove their petrodollars up their human rights record” “one man saudi arabia” “nice brutally segregated city on a fault line” etc.

obv it all goes back to The Political Order Constitutes My Family And My Family Constitutes The Political Order, so any change to it would be unthinkable. just as he Distantly knows that there is smth very wrong in his family, he knows smth is v fucked in the world. so how does he square that circle? by becoming an irony poisoned nihilist who believes everyone with beliefs is bullshitting (which, lbr, who does he know who isnt bullshitting? the farthest left ppl he knows are the pierces) and that the world is so rotted that nothing can get better, it can only be more or less amusing.

[daloy-politsey]

List of Vetted Gazan Fundraisers

I will be updating this list as people ask me to add to it, so if you see this on your dash, I suggest checking the original post to see if it’s been updated.

Vets are included in the links if possible (otherwise, check the linked post for the replies).

Abdul Salam Al-Anqar and his family

@noor-yashour and his son Muhammad who suffers from a lack of oxygen at birth and muscle relaxation

Reem, her husband, and 5 children (the youngest of which is under 2 years old)

Help Khaled evacuate and continue his studies

Help Asmaa Abed and her family find safety

Hanan, her husband, and her three young children

Hanan and her family

Help Etaf and her husband provide for their five children and pay rent

Dalia and her husband and 2 year old child

Help Yahya get his daughter an operation

Hadeel, whose husband is disabled and whose two children suffer from asthma and malnutrition

Help Abood and his wife leave Gaza

Help Wafa and his family

Help Ahmed and his family of six children

[fieldofdaisiies]

Sometimes you need to drift apart from someone to truly understand how much you belong together.

Almost exactly a year after their painful breakup, Azriel and Eris unexpectedly meet again and find themselves trapped together in a snowstorm. With no choice but to spend time together in a small space, the long hours lead to conversations of their past, memories of their adventures togethers, unresolved feelings and heartbreak… 

This is my @acotargiftexchange gift for the lovely and absolutely wonderful @daycourtofficial It was a delight being your secret santa💛 I hope you have a very peaceful and calm Christmas filled with so much joy! Sending you love!🎄

Story Playlist

Let Her Go - Passenger

Wish You the Best - Lewis Capaldi

Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi

Last Christmas - Wham!

O Holy Night - Mariah Carey

Flowers - Miley Cyrus

Let Me Down Slowly - Alec Benjamin

It Gets Better - Martin Luke Brown

read the whole story below the cut // or on ao3

Dimmed by the snowstorm that has been raging on for days, New York is blanketed in an endless, thick sheet of white. It crunches beneath his polished boots as Eris hurries down the streets, the cool air burning down his throat and landing harshly in his lungs as he tries to catch a cab within all the holiday chaos — many people are leaving, others are returning. The city has turned into an even more intense bustling hub of people and traffic, full of flashing lights and noises.

Eris blows out a long breath, watching the gleam of the street lanterns flicker behind the snow swirling in the air. Traffic is crawling through the mud-coloured slush on the streets and he hopes to finally catch sight of a cab. Otherwise he will be late (he is already late, but not yet too late). He fears he will miss his plane and only over his dead body will he stay alone in New York for Christmas. He has been alone enough in the last year, but certainly not on Christmas. Not on a holiday that is all about family and being together with your loved ones. 

Family. His suitcase is filled to the brim with presents for his family. His mother, his youngest brother, his sister-in-law and his beloved niece, Dalia. If his other brothers will show up, is still in the stars – they never announce their visit beforehand.

The harsh, cold wind and snow bite through the layers of his clothes, slowly creeping under his skin. He shivers and clenches his jaw. He‘ll be damned if he catches a cold now…

As he waits, lifting his hand every now and then to signal a cab to stop which still hasn’t happened, Eris watches snow collect on the bare branches of trees and pile on window sills nearby. His breath hangs in the air, each exhale a small cloud in the freezing cold that surrounds him. He can’t wait to leave the city and get back home. To be inside the warm and cosy living room of his mother’s and his step-dad’s house, the smell of the delicious dishes his sister-in-law has cooked wafting through the air.

He likes going home. He likes being home. For a few days, a few weeks. He always quickly realises he misses New York. New York is his new home. The place he loves to live at. However, there’s a loneliness here he can’t shake—there is too much anonymity, too much loneliness in this big city. And Eris hates it. He craves connection, friendships, a sense of belonging. He wants someone—

A sharp honk jolts him from his thoughts, startles him so much his eyes widen in shock and the breath gets caught in his throat.

"Been waiting for me, buddy?"

At last—a taxi! Eris thinks and exhales a relieved breath. He nods in answer, a hint too excitedly. And as he slides into the back seat, pulling his suitcase and bag in with him, he says, "To the airport, please."

The cab driver glances at him in the rearview mirror, cheerful and unfazed. "Alrighty," he replies brightly, his voice nearly drowned out by Last Christmas blaring from the radio. Pushing his foot down on the gas pedal, he sets off immediately. The cab ploughs through the thickening slush, its tires skidding slightly as it moves down streets illuminated by streetlights and colourful Christmas garlands decorating shops and buildings.

Eris rests his head against the window, watching as snowflakes swirl under the streetlights. Despite the Christmas spirit and him looking forward to seeing his family, his chest all of a sudden feels heavy with longing and sadness (not so suddenly actually, he has been feeling like this almost all throughout December). Only a year ago, he had spent Christmas with the most amazing person in the world and then—

"My name’s Suri. I came here, three—no let me think, five years ago. Love that city, great place for people, isn’t it?"

Absently, Eris answers with a quiet, "Mhm", his gaze still locked on the outside world and the snow. 

Unaffected by his indifference, Suri continues. "Yo, stranger, where I picked you up, that’s close to my fave Italian restaurant. Have you tried the Pepperoni pizza there? Changed my life, let me tell you that. And don’t even get me started on the Burgers from … man, I don’t remember the shop. The one with the blue sign, it glows at night, right next to the shop selling all those designer bags …"

Eris, even if he deems it rude, zones out. Finally, he can get some rest. Finally, after months full of stress and emotional exhaustion. A few days with his family, with his niece and his beloved dogs. Deep within his heart he knows he deserves it. He deserves this time after everything he has been through. After him.

"Ever been to Times Square on New Year’s Eve? Did you like it? I think it’s magical, but way too crowded to really enjoy it."

Perfect for the first kiss with a man you think you will spend your whole life with only for him to tear your heart out and rip it into shreds a few years later, Eris thinks but doesn’t say out loud. He only sighs loudly and closes his eyes.

They have moved from Last Christmas to O Holy Night and Mariah Carey‘s voice fills the inside of the cab, singing happily and cheerily.

"But you know, despite all the noise, the people and the large crowds, there’s something about this city" … Suri pauses. A dramatic pause that turns into him singing parts of the lyrics along with Mariah before continuing. "No matter where you are from, no matter who you are, you will always find someone who understands you. Who sees you for who you are. Who likes you. Who sees the good in you and who loves you for who you are."

Eris‘ breathing deepens as the back of his throat starts to ache. He hates that. Hates that Suri‘s words shake him to the core. Hates that suddenly silver lines his eyes.

"One day you randomly meet a stranger, and five minutes later, you are sharing life stories or you will end up snogging in the restroom of a bar and then end up in their bed. And two years later you are happily married and you are expecting your first child. But whatever, what‘s your name stranger?"

It takes him a moment to answer, sharply ripped from his thoughts, from all the memories of their time together flooding his mind like tidal waves. A lump has formed in his throat that makes it almost impossible for him to answer, to breathe. 

Eris coughs. Once. Twice, not wanting to be rude and not answer. "Eris," he eventually replies, his voice tense as he clutches his bag to his chest. "My name is Eris."

“Funny name,” Suri replies with a chuckle. “Isn’t that a Greek goddess?”

“The goddess of strife and discord.” Eris presses his lips in a thin line, turning his head to the side again. Piles of snow line the edges of the sidewalks. Eris' gaze follows them as the traffic is moving slow, his thoughts unfocused now that old wounds have been ripped open. He can’t be necessarily mad at Suri for bringing up all the things, but he somehow is. 

He tried so hard to get rid of all the thoughts, the memories and now … now it’s all he can think about. As they pass Central Park, the usual vibrance seems muted by the snow, colder and darker and a shudder courses through Eris – either from his longing or the cold he is still feeling. He knows that Central Park’s appearance mirrors the feelings deep within him. Cold. Dark. Sad.

Suri continues to ramble, to sing cheerily, unaffected by Eris’ indifference. 

Eris is no longer listening to him, or rather no longer listening again, the only sound in his ears the sad beat of his heart. And his voice, his laugh in his mind and it hurts just like a year ago. Hurts just like every damn day of the previous year.

Finally, the airport’s glow appears through the haze, bright lights cutting through the heavy snowfall and Eris straightens. The taxi pulls up close by one of the entrances, tires crunching over snow and then stops. His eyes close for a moment, and when Suri tells him the price for the ride, Eris lets out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Finally. Finally he is going home and can forget about all the sadness for at least a few days.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

The relief about having arrived at the airport vanishes within seconds. It feels like a harsh slap to Eris’ face, one that almost knocks him off his feet, sending him flying through the air, and ends in a brutal landing on his butt.

“Fuck,” Eris curses under his breath and his stomach drops at the sight of him. His ex-boyfriend—his ex-fiancé. 

The dark-haired man looks equally surprised to see Eris, equally uncomfortable, a forced smile stretching across his lips that Eris doesn’t reciprocate when their eyes meet. He only walks towards Azriel - well, rather towards his gate. Or their gate apparently. It only makes sense that Azriel is here but at the same time doesn’t. They grew up in villages that weren’t far apart, but what are the chances that Azriel would also wait until the last minute to fly back home for Christmas?

Eris‘ heart pounds in disbelief, heat rising in his face when the smile, this stupidly handsome smile, doesn’t fade from his ex-lovers face. The audacity!

The boldness makes Eris’ nostrils flare and anger blaze through his veins, the audacity of Azriel to smile and act like everything is alright when he had been the sole to destroy his heart.

"We aren’t meant for one another," he had told him back then and it butchered every part of Eris‘ heart that hadn’t been broken before. He was left in pieces when the man he loved most left him and now said man dares to smile at him.

The only thing that brings Eris comfort is that Azriel isn’t as chill about their surprised meeting as he pretends to be. He is nervously clenching and unclenching his hands—his scarred hands, caused by a kitchen fire in his childhood.

Eris remembers how often he rubbed salve on those hands in winter, how he kissed them, how he held them close and warmed them. Not that it ended up meaning anything to Azriel.

Eris‘ eyes dart away, hoping that when he looks back, his ex is gone. But luck has never been on his side. Obviously Azriel, and his awful smile are still there.

It‘s only a few more steps and Eris can feel how his chest tightens more and more, how awkward he suddenly thinks he must look walking towards him. He gets a sudden urge to flee, run, but he is rooted to the ground (and 32 and running would be very, very childish in his mind). 

A forced calmness, almost like cool boredom, falls in place on his face and masks his swirling emotions, masks the hurt that is rooted so deeply within his heart.

"Hello Eris." Azriel is the one to speak up first and despite feeling an enormous amount of anger, his smokey voice still causes the same reaction in Eris—chills all over his body. "It’s—"

But Eris holds up a hand to stop him. "Don‘t say it’s good to see me, I really don’t need another lie on top of all the lies you have told me in the past." He shows him a sardonic grin and steps past him, hating that he let his mask drop and his bitterness could reach the surface. 

Before Eris can settle into the awkwardness of their first conversation after a year of not talking to one another and his frustration over this conversation even happening, a loud noise sounds through the speakers of the airport. The screeching makes him cringe but doesn’t shock him even half as much as the announcement that is made a second later.

"Dear Passengers, due to the worsening of the snowstorm and the current weather situation we are sorry to inform you that all flights have been cancelled. No planes will leave John F. Kennedy airport this evening and throughout the night. Thank you for understanding. Hotels and hostels closeby will be offering…"

Within seconds, the airport erupts in chaos, frustrated groans and sighs rippling through the shocked and furious crowd and making it impossible for Eris to hear the rest of what is said but he can assume that hotels are offering rooms to those stranded at the airport without a place to go for the night.

Well, at least I can go home and not have to find a hotel, Eris thinks to himself even if a peach-sized weight settles into heart that makes him feel nothing but sadness and disappointment about not seeing his family anytime soon. On Christmas. It means he will be alone on Christmas, and as much as he tries to ignore the fact, the back of his mouth starts to ache as tears start to burn behind his eyes.

Reluctantly, he turns back and finds Azriel still standing where he last saw him. The man’s face has fallen in disbelief and for a split second Eris feels bad for him, knowing Azriel will probably be all alone as well. The moment of compassion, however, passes too quickly to really leave an impact on Eris. He shakes it off, thinking that if Azriel hadn’t ruined everything, he wouldn’t be alone now. If Azriel hadn’t ruined everything they would have spent Christmas together…

Eris feels how his head starts to spin and buzz from all the noises around him. Phones are ringing as passengers search for ideas on how to escape the airport and queues, long queues, form instantly at the desks of the airport. The tension in the air thickens with frustration and involuntary him and Azriel exchange an uncertain glance before his ex turns away and heads for the exit.

Finally he is gone, Eris thinks, hoping to not see Azriel again so soon. Or ever. He hopes he never has to see him again. Never has to have an encounter with him again.

Mutters of annoyance and disbelief fill the air around Eris, and it almost gets to the point of being overwhelming. He wants to get out of here immediately, but not before trying to book another flight in the morning. Eris approaches the counter, or rather the queue in front of it, his heart beating unsteadily. 

The lady at the counter shakes her head, “I have no information, I have already told you so. Come back in the morning, we will know more by then.” Without another word, she turns the sign on the desk so that it says "closed" instead of "open", turns off her computer and locks up the counter.

Frustration and sadness flicker in Eris’ eyes and he rubs his hand over his chin before summoning the strength to turn around and walk away. He somehow doesn’t fully want to believe it. He will truly be alone on Christmas and only God knows when there will be a next chance to see his family. This hurts. Christmas all alone. Without his family. He wasted a holiday at work only so he could see his family and only to end up completely alone in the end. What a shame!

Seeing Eris again after all this time has unsettled Azriel more than he likes to admit. Covering his face with his forearm, Azriel heads out into the snowstorm and realises that it has indeed worsened. 

"God," Azriel breathes and his heart drops even lower than it did when seeing Eris before. New York has turned into a snow chaos, you can barely make out any buildings, or trees or people, or anything. 

In addition, speaking to the cab drivers lined up in front of the airport is equally disappointing as getting the flight being cancelled and having to run into Eris out of everyone he could have run into. So, reluctantly Azriel returns inside a heavy weight of sorrow resting upon his chest about not seeing his family—his found family and his mother— for Christmas and having to spend it all alone once more. 

Last year he wasn’t alone, last year he was with—Speak of the devil!

Just as he steps inside, his body  collides with the one person he really didn’t want to bump into again.

Eris’ expression is equally grim as his own and as he tries to hurry past him, however Azriel’s arm flies forward before he can think about what he is doing and he holds Eris back. 

“No cabs,” Azriel says, frustration ringing loud in his voice. “It’s too dangerous, streets are shutting down and the cab drivers won‘t take a risk. Only option is to call someone for a ride." He lets go of Eris‘ arm when he feels the man’s body tense beneath his palm.

Eris’ face falls instantly. “I have no one to pick me up," he breathes and the look on his face almost makes Azriel want to wrap him into his arms and tell him that he will be fine. “I was going to my family, no one is here, no one can pick me up.”

Azriel nods and a deep sigh parts his lips, “Same.”

Silence falls upon them like a heavy sheet that almost crushes them beneath it, and yet an unspoken bond of shared helplessness forms between them. 

"So I guess we need to find a hotel then. Come on."

We. We! Azriel has long ago stopped hoping he would ever hear Eris referring to them as we. He stopped when he ended things between them. When he became the reason for Eris to stop referring to them as we. Azriel never wanted to, but it was for the best. For Eris. But now the We is back and a kernel of hope, of happiness, flickers back to life deep within Azriel’s chest.

>>>>>>

"We are sorry but there is only one room available." The lady with the tight bun on top of her head presses her lips in a thin line, clearly frustrated. "I have told you before and all the money in the world that you are willing to give me won’t make another room appear, Mr Vanserra. There is only one room left, you're not the only one stranded at the airport tonight." Her tone is so sharp, it could almost cut through the wood of her desk. 

It’s now the third hotel close to the airport. The first two had no room left, this one only one.

Eris begins to nod, reluctantly, and gives in. It is what it is, he thinks. They will have to stay here, because walking back to their apartments in the snowstorm is definitely not an option. For neither of them. He doesn’t know where Azriel now lives, but he guesses it isn’t close-by either.

"All right, we‘ll take it." He snatches the keycard from the desk and tilts his head towards the staircase, signalling Azriel that they are moving now. Azriel looks equally annoyed over the fact of having to spend at least the rest of the evening and the night with no other than his ex-boyfriend in a hotel room. 

A very small hotel room.

The room is even smaller than expected, but at least somehow cosy, Eris thinks. With a double bed and a small desk and drawer and a lamp on top that casts a warm glow upon the dark brown carpet and wallpaper, it looks almost comfortable. But who cares about cosy and comfortable when you are trapped with your ex?

Eris realises that Azriel is worse at hiding his obvious irritation about the size of the room than he himself when he catches him cringes. 

He takes it as a chance to shoot something at him, and make his frustration air. The door falls shut behind them and Eris turns to Azriel, scowling. “Don’t make a face like this. It’s not like we haven’t shared a room before,” Eris grumbles and Azriel flashes him an incredulous look.

"You wouldn’t even properly say hello to me at the airport and now—"

"Now we are trapped in a snowstorm, so we better accept our fate and move on."

"Right," Azriel groans, pressing his lips in a thin line. "Then I get the bed."

"Obviously, not. I get the bed. Remember, my sensitive back."

"You‘re just old," Azriel bites back.

Eris glares at him, bracing his knee on the mattress. "I have a sensitive back!"

Azriel mirrors his movement. "And you‘re old."

"I‘m only two years older than you."

"You‘re closer to forty than I am."

"You‘re impossible, Azriel." Eris shakes his head.

"You‘re egoistic. That’s probably why we broke up in the first place." 

An emotion, almost like regret, flashes in Azriel’s eyes for having said these words. 

Yet, he gets no chance to apologise. Eris won’t give him one. He turns away sharply and plops down onto the carpeted floor. He says nothing as he leans his head against the wall, and closes his eyes. 

His heart hurts too much to speak.

>>>>>>>>

Azriel knows that it was wrong to say what he said. Eris had not once been egoistic. And so it clearly wasn’t the reason for their break up. The reason for their breakup was … far more complex. 

Azriel loved Eris, but knew he had never been good enough for someone like Eris. Eris is perfect and Azriel is … far from perfect.

He has never stopped thinking that. 

Eris comes from a rich English family that moved to America when Eris was only a few years old. Their family business thrived even more here—boomed, to be specific. Eris, other than most of his brothers, didn’t enter into the company but became a doctor instead. Which is still a completely different world than the one Azriel lives in—growing up only with his mother who had worked three jobs at a time so she could make a living. Azriel loves his mother, and he liked his childhood—to clarify, the parts that he didn’t have to spend with his awful father.

A sigh parts Azriel’s lips, cutting through the heavy silence that has fallen over them. He cast a sidelong glance at Eris, watching the deep frown on his beautiful face as he concentrates on something on his phone.

Azriel has absentmindedly been watching the news on the TV, the volume turned silent, only looking at the pictures, too distracted by the tension in the air to truly focus. Unsaid words linger in the space between them, words of apology and forgiveness, but neither of them is ready to speak up yet.

So Azriel retreats to his own thoughts, turning off the TV and leaning his head back, resting it against the bed frame. Memories of their past—of their shared past— slowly start to slither into his mind like greedy snakes, feasting on his pain.

The first time they met was at a party of his best friend Rhys and his girlfriend Feyre. Their first meeting was all stolen glances across the room, soft chatter and a too-drunk kiss in the kitchen, sloppy and needy, both of them using too much tongue and tasting of liquor and smoke. It made them both laugh.

He remembers when they first held hands in public, the looks people gave them and how Eris had assured Azriel that they were fine. Eris had dated men before him, Azriel hadn’t. Eris was his first. His first everything when it came to being with a man. He was worried, almost scared, at the beginning, but everything eased quickly and he fell madly in love with Eris Vanserra. 

He has never stopped being in love with him.

The thing he loved most about their time together were their late-night conversations where they shared dreams and memories. Another thing he loved was going to concerts with Eris. They went to see Hozier and Ed Sheeran, and went to Coachella together.

Azriel’s eyes flicker open and he glances at Eris again, but the man is still focused on his phone. His posture is tense and stiff, his jaw clenched.

Azriel desperately wants the frown to vanish from Eris’ face and see his ex smile again. He loved when Eris smiled, loved it even more when he laughed—it was the most beautiful sound in the entire world. He loved hearing it. He wants to hear it again.

They had so many inside jokes they could probably laugh an entire day about them. And their playful teasing was one of Azriel’s favourite things in the world. He always acted annoyed but deep inside him, he loved them.

His eyes close again. Involuntarily, a sad smile appears on his lips at the memories, at the quiet mornings they spent in bed, limbs entangled. At the shared meals they often cooked together, or simply held each other close, talking softly until late into the night. The I love yous they shared. So many of them. And each one was sincere and honest.

As his thoughts start to stray, Azriel cheeks start to warm. 

He also loved sex with Eris. The man always made him feel like he was a king, like he deserved the world, like it was all about his pleasure, about making him feel good. And he did, every time they were intimate, even if it was just a quick, shared moment of desire in the bathroom before both needed to go to work. 

Work. It hits Azriel like a slap and makes his blood run cold. Work was a major reason for their breakup. Or at least, in Azriel’s opinion, it was. 

It started with small arguments, mostly fueled by Azriel’s frustration about finding a job, then losing it because the company had to reduce its number of employees. Obviously, Azriel thought that he wasn’t good enough and so they chose him and kicked him out. Then months of hopeless searching for a new job came, only to lose the next one as well. The stress had got the best of him and he found himself unloading it all on Eris, reminding himself over and over again that he wasn’t good enough for the Vanserra and Eris deserved much better. 

He didn’t even have enough money to take Eris out on a proper date or buy him large, fancy gifts. Obviously Eris would never say that it bothered him. The doctor never said that it bothered him that Azriel lived in his flat without having to pay a penny, and always assured him that he would soon find a job. Azriel wanted to believe that, but failed.

Working in IT can be incredible, but only when you had a secure job—and finding that security was the biggest challenge he ever faced. Only recently, around four months ago, he finally managed to land something secure. Hopefully.

Azriel swallows thickly and the back of his mouth starts to ache. He clenches his jaw.

The silence in the room feels almost oppressive at this point, pressing down on him and making it hard for him to breathe. He opens his eyes again.

Apparently, Azriel isn’t the only one to think so, the only one who can no longer stand the silence between them.

Eris is shifting uncomfortably, then he turns to Azriel. He clears his throat and his eyes briefly brush Azriel’s. "Your mother, Eleni, … have you informed her that you are trapped here?"

After all this time, Azriel thinks, Eris still worries about my mother. He still worries. He still cares.

"I sent her a message." Azriel’s voice is hoarse, raspy from not talking for a while.

A curt nod is Eris‘ answer, lips pressed in a firm line.

"Did you inform your family?"

"I told Lucien, he will tell mum. I believe my father couldn’t care less about me coming home or not. I think he couldn’t care less about me not being there. I’m not even sure I will go see him this year…"

In the past, Eris always found it difficult to talk about his family situation and Azriel knows that he was one of the few people that Eris opened up to. He told him about his mother and her new partner, about Beron staying in the family home and that Imala had to move out when they got their divorce. 

And there it is, Eris opening up again, not shutting him out. Azriel will take this as a chance and a kernel of relief blooms within him. He shifts on the bed, moving closer to his ex-boyfriend still sitting on the carpeted floor.

"The situation hasn’t changed?" Azriel carefully asked. It is a stupid question, he knows this. As long as Eris loves men, his father will despise him. Nothing will ever change about that—it is the same with his own father.

"He won’t change. He will never change, Azriel."

Finally, Eris really meets his gaze, his eyes are nothing but sad. Azriel fights the urge to reach out, to brush his cheek, his hair, his shoulder and kiss the sadness away. He can’t stand it, seeing Eris like this. He never could.

"But whatever. It‘s just my father and I only have to see him two to three times a year." Eris wears a sardonic smile as he shakes his head. "How‘s life been treating you lately?"

I miss you every day, Eris, Azriel thinks, but doesn’t say out loud. Obviously he doesn’t say so. He was the one to end things back then.

So, he only shrugs his shoulders. "I can’t complain. I landed a job in this start-up company and it’s looking really good. Finally something that seems secure."

"I’m glad to hear this." The honesty in Eris‘ smile, mirrors the one in his eyes. He means it.

"Meaning I can finally give you back all the money and—"

"The fuck you will, Azriel!" The smile on Eris’ lips immediately turns into a scowl—his eyes ablaze with anger. "It wasn’t like I was your sugar daddy. I paid for the flat because it was my flat and—"

"I lived there as well."

"It was still my flat. I got to keep it after our breakup while you had to find a new place to live. Hell, where do you even live now?"

"Staten Island," Azriel answers flatley.

Eris acknowledges the information with a curt nod.

"You took me on dates—"

"Because I wanted to. I wanted to take you out and go to places with you. I also benefited from these dates and trips, it wasn’t just for you. I enjoyed myself too."

"You paid for my Coachella ticket."

"It was your birthday present." Eris shakes his head again. "I have never cared about spending money, and especially not about spending money on things we could do together. That we would enjoy together. As a couple. I loved spending time with you and I couldn’t care less if we needed money for it or not. It was never about the price, only about being with you."

The words shake Azriel to the core, landing like a harsh slap on his cheek. 

He is frozen in place for a moment, unable to say something. Then after a second and a deep breath, he opens his mouth. "I liked spending time with you as well." Azriel throws his statement into the room like it physically pains him to say so. 

"Clearly,” Eris says, his tone sarcastic, “so much that you broke up with me."

"These are two completely different pairs of shoes, Eris," Azriel groans. "And don’t make it sound like breaking up with you was so easy for me."

"Well it seemed rather easy for you." Eris crosses his arms over his chest, glowering as he looks up at Azriel. 

Azriel presses his lips in a thin line. His eyes close, then open, and he flexes his fingers. "Can you please sit up here with me. I can’t talk to you like that. Not when you are still sitting on the floor."

A frown graces Eris‘ face, but eventually he rises —reluctantly and slowly— and joins Azriel on the bed, sinking into the soft cushions, but keeping a fine distance between him and Azriel.

He seems to hesitate, but eventually says, “I never got closure. I have never stopped thinking about what I have done wrong, how I could have fixed all the things broken. Why I didn't see the signs before it was too late." Eris’ voice is low and vulnerable.

Azriel looks away, guilt flickering in his eyes. “Ending our relationship wasn’t as easy as I made it seem.”

"Right." A sardonic chuckle from Eris‘ lips.

"I mean it." Azriel’s frustration rises as the pain from the past resurfaces. Memories of many nights crying alone in bed, or in Cass‘ or Rhys‘ arms, or drunk at a bar at three am, resurface.

"And still you just left… and my heart was torn apart and broken into a million pieces," Eris spits, the hurt loud and clear in his voice as he turns his head away sharply, almost as if dismissing Azriel as his gaze fixates on the storm still raging outside the window. 

Emotionally charged silence hangs between them in the moments that follow. Azriel’s stomach twists with regret, his throat tightening when he says, "I’m so sorry." He knows it is a stupid thing to say, too little, too late, but he really is sorry. Their relationship should have never ended like this. It should have never ended.

>>>>>>>>

They exchange a look after Azriel‘s unasked apology. Their gazes linger and it twists his gut. The hurt is palpable, and eventually Eris says, "I have never moved on." His voice is barely above a whisper. "I couldn’t. I couldn’t imagine myself without you."

Azriel releases a deep breath as the words settle between them. "I‘ve felt the same way."

After their mutual revelations, they lose the eye contact again as if looking at each other would make them do something irrational. Something stupid. And yet, unconsciously, Eris‘ pinky finger brushes Azriel’s. The other tenses, body going stiff and Eris notices how Azriel suddenly holds his breath. But then, to his surprise, he moves his hand as well, and slides it into Eris‘. 

Eris freezes, almost shocked, his heart lurching in his chest. He can feel the sparks between their hands. The chemistry has not faded, electricity still erupts between their palms whenever they touch. Even a year after their break up. 

Eris steals a quick glance at Azriel, noticing how his cheeks have turned rosy and how a small smile plays on his lips. He promptly averts his gaze again, looking at the frost-covered windows and the still heavy snowfall outside. A deep breath parts his lips, and he realises that his chest no longer feels so heavy, so tight.

“It’s scary, but also beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

"The snowstorm?" Azriel asks in a soft whisper.

"Love." This time when he turns his head, Azriel is already looking at him, eyes heavy-lidded as they momentarily brush Eris‘ lips and then immediately snap up to his eyes again.

For Eris it somehow feels like the moment he saw Azriel for the first time. How he fell in love with Azriel at first sight. The moment at the party when their eyes met for the first time. Azriel is more beautiful than any other man he has ever seen before. He isn’t only beautiful on the outside, but also deep within his heart – the part Eris fell in love with.

The Vanserra shifts uncomfortably on the bed, the space between them too big but at the same time too narrow. He tears his gaze away from Azriel, not wanting to do something irrational like all of a sudden kiss him. He really wants to, but knows how stupid it would be. It would make everything ever more complicated and if there is something he really doesn’t need in his life on top of everything else than it is complication. Especially when it comes to his ex-boyfriend.

He turns his attention back to the snowstorm, to the frost outside while his own heart - fully of its own accord - starts to warm within him. His voice is a quiet mutter, almost swallowed by the silence around them when he says, "I never understood your intentions, Azriel. One moment you were here and everything seemed fine, and the next you grew distant and threw everything away."

Azriel’s face falls, the small smile fading as frustration flickers in his eyes. "There had been a distance between us long before."

"A distance you forced between us," Eris cuts in sharply, voice laced with bitterness. His jaw tightens, and he turns back to look at Azriel with a mixture of pain and anger in his auburn eyes.

"It wasn’t just me or my fault. You played your role in it as well."

Eris‘ eyes widen in surprise. "I loved you, Azriel. And I would have given everything for you, for our love. I even cut strings with my father, for you. For us!"

Azriel flinches at the words, a flash of hurt crossing over his face before he quickly hides it. He breathes in deeply. Once, twice, a few times. Then he exhales a long breath and lets his chin fall to his chest. "That‘s part of the problem. I didn’t want you to do it. To have to do this. Not because of me. He is your family. I wanted to protect you from … losing him." His voice is thick with emotion, trembling as silver starts to line his eyes.

Eris lets out a shaky breath. "Protect me from losing them? I would have never lost my family. My real family, the people who care about me and love me. And when it comes to my father? I wouldn’t really call it a loss. I hate that man." He shakes his head with a loud snort. "You should have talked to me. You made the decision of the breakup for both of us without even giving me a chance to talk to you. Wanting to protect me but destroying me in the course of it.”

"I was scared you wouldn’t understand and I’d only end up hurting you more. I thought you would be much better off without me and eventually would forget about me.”

Eris is shaken by his ex-boyfriend's revelation. His anger falters as his hands start to tremble. "Forget you? Forget us and everything we had? Azriel, you were the only person I could never forget. I loved you more than my own life. You were my world.”

Azriel’s eyes glisten, his shoulders lifting and falling with deep breaths. "I could never forget you either. You were … everything to me, Eris. Everything I had in this damn city and everything I loved… I love the most in the world."

Eris reaches up to wipe away a tear, then swallows roughly. He wants to say something, anything, but he is at a loss of words. Especially when Azriel continues, his truth shaking Eris to the core.

“I never stopped loving you, Eris. Not for a single second," Azriel admits in a voice laden with regret.

A sheet of heavy silence falls over them as the words sink in. Eris is unable to answer, to do anything. He only looks at the wall across from them, replaying Azriel’s revelation in his mind.

Eventually Eris lowers his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper when he says, “I couldn’t move on either. It was simply impossible.” He gives his head a little shake before lifting his gaze again. "Did you… try moving on with someone else?"

Azriel’s throat bobs. "I’ve tried it. Tried dating. But … nothing felt like it did with you," he admits. "Nothing felt like you. No one did."

Their fingers are still naturally laced together, as if they belong together. Because they do, Eris thinks. Because their hands belong together just as much as they do.

"What do you mean?" he asks in a quiet voice.

Azriel’s features soften. "With you, I felt good, seen and loved. Respected and happy. I felt alive. I loved being with you, and experiencing everything the universe had planned for us. I was a fool for what I did. For ending … us. It is my biggest regret in life. My biggest mistake."

When their eyes meet again, there is a spark in Eris‘ eyes—a silent question, a flicker of hope.

The space between them grows narrow, their breaths mingling as they slowly lean closer. Azriel’s gaze drops to Eris’s lips, then back up, as if silently asking for permission. Their foreheads touch, their eyes close and then, slowly, tentatively, their lips meet.

The kiss is hesitant, almost as if they have never kissed before. As if their lips have never touched before, as if their lips have never kissed every part of the other‘s body before.

The moment is too precious, too fragile to rush anything. They want to enjoy it. Bringing one hand up, Eris lets it glide over Azriel’s arm, to his shoulder and eventually to the back of Azriel’s head where he tangles his fingers into the silken strands at the nape of his neck. He wants to deepen the kiss, devour Azriel‘s lips and savour every small moment of it.

However, he makes the plan without Azriel‘s mum. A sudden, shrill ringing cuts through the moment, making them pull away from each other sharply.

Azriel seems to be needing a moment to gather his thoughts, appearing slightly confused as he looks around him, confusion flickering across his face, before reaching into his pocket to fish out his phone. "Mom!" he exclaims, his voice tinged with surprise as he presses the phone to his ear. "I'm fine, yes. And yes, I have food. What—I didn’t get that?"

Eris chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing, before he drags his hand down his face. Then with the confidence of a man who has just kissed his ex-boyfriend who seems to miss him just as much as he does, he reaches out, tipping Azriel's chin up with two fingers, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"Tell her I miss her," he mouths to Azriel.

The man, his phone still against his head, shoves Eris’ hand away and then flips him off.

"Hopefully tomorrow," Azriel says then, smiling as their eyes meet again. "Don’t worry about me, I‘m alright. More than alright. I‘m looked after." His smile turns into something akin to a grin and then he begins to nod. "I will tell you everything when I‘m home. Love you, see you soon. Bye—yes, don’t worry. Yes! Mom! Good, Love you."

Azriel is blushing when he lowers his phone to the mattress, a sheepish smile on his lips. "Where were we?" he asks and leans in again.

Eris mirrors his movement, yet the moment their lips brush, he doesn’t kiss the other, but instead says, "There is something else, right? Another reason you broke up with me. Tell me. Be honest with me. Please. I deserve that."

Azriel’s eyes flutter shut, his trembling lids mirroring the quivering of his lips. He seems to fight with his emotions, struggling to find the right words, but also finally ready to reveal the whole truth he has been holding back the past year.

He swallows audibly and opens his eyes again. Unshed tears form in them as they lock with Eris‘ auburn ones.

"I felt like a burden to you, Eris," Azriel admits, and releases a deep sigh. "You always paid for everything. You worked so hard, while all I ever did was search for jobs—only to find one and lose it within a month. Someone like me will never be good enough for someone like you." He shakes his head, but Eris catches his face gently in his hands. His palms soft against the stubble on Azriel‘s jaw.

"I don’t deserve you, Eris," Azriel continues before his ex can speak. He is not done yet pouring out his heart and putting all the cards on the table. "I never did. I’m not a good guy and—"

"You are!" Eris interrupts, his voice shaking as tears start to line his eyes. "You are and you always were. This is absolute bullshit you're saying. You were never a burden to me."

"Maybe you didn’t realise how much—"

"How much I loved you? How little I cared about the fact that I was paying for most of our dates as you said before. I wouldn’t even have noticed if you hadn’t told me. I loved you, everything about you, every small detail and I couldn’t care less about how much money you brought into our relationship. We are not living in the Middle Ages anymore where the betrothed has to bring a certain amount of money into the marriage." 

He drags in a deep breath, sliding his hands from his face to his shoulder, then gently, he pulls Azriel’s closer. “Azriel,” Eris begins, his voice low, “you were everything to me.”

Azriel’s lips part, and a shaky breath escapes. “You were everything to me.”

Eris’s hands begin to tremble, his own eyes watering. “I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you. It was always you, Azriel. And it will—”

“And will forever be,” Azriel finishes, his voice barely above a whisper. "It will forever be you, Eris."

A faint smile tugs at Azriel’s lips as he adds, “Fucking fortunate that we were caught in this damn snowstorm.”

Eris lets out a quiet laugh at that, the sound easing some of the sadness between them. 

"Otherwise we would have never talked…"

"We‘re idiots."

"You‘re an idiot, Azriel. You should have talked to me and not ended things without—"

"I know. I know I am and what I did was the worst mistake I could have ever made. I’m sorry."

Eris shifts on the bed, lying down. Azriel follows and lays his head down on Eris’s chest, right above his heart. Naturally, Eris’s hand finds its way to the nape of Azriel’s neck, his fingers threading softly into his hair.

Eris exhales a long breath. "I missed this."

"I missed you," Azriel sighs and his tears start to run freely.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

When Eris wakes, an odd feeling of familiarity overcomes him. His face is pressed against the juncture where Azriel‘s neck meets his shoulder, his arm tightly wrapped around the other man, their limbs entangled. In his nose, there is only the scent of Azriel, the cologne he always uses, dark and musky.

"Good morning, baby," Eris drawls in his sleepy, morning voice and his eyes open wide within an instant, while his heart slams to a halt. He notices his mistake immediately. 

Baby. 

God! It has just slipped through his lips. However Azriel, much to his own relief, doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t seem to consider it a mistake.With a lazy smile playing on his lips, the man turns in Eris‘ hold, then kisses Eris’ jaw. 

"Morning, baby." The lazy smile quickly turns into a silly grin that makes Azriel, even though he is in his thirties, appear oddly boyish. "God! I missed the sound of you calling me that." He blows out a happy breath. "And I missed calling you that."

"I did too," Eris hums and lowers his forehead to Azriel‘s. He smiles, his heart oddly at ease.  However the man below him starts to pout and wiggle in his hold. "Where is my good morning kiss?"

"Right here." Eris kisses him softly, carefully, and yet the hunger of all the time missed between them pours into it. Eris slides his tongue over the seam of Azriel’s lips, gently asking for entrance which the man happily grants him.

It is wonderful, Eris thinks, the feeling so familiar and warm. Their lips are made for one another, perfectly sealing, becoming one.

They kiss for a long time, so long they don‘t even notice that the snowstorm outside has started to calm, now only single, small flakes of white swirl around in the frosty December air. 

Azriel’s starts to tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of Eris‘ neck, almost as if never wanting to let go again. He deepens the kiss, pressing his mouth against Eris‘ with quite an urgency as if to forget about everything that happened between them, as if to erase the 11 months that separated them.

The kiss is intense, needy, hungry, Eris realises, and suddenly the room feels too small, the walls too close, the space too narrow and he can’t breathe anymore. 

He can’t keep kissing Azriel—not when their paths will part after today, anyway. Too much has happened between them, and some things can’t be undone. They can’t just go back to how things were before they broke up, can they?

Azriel must have noticed Eris’ sudden distraction, that he no longer focuses on the moment, on the kiss and so he slowly pulls back. And so does Eris. 

Eris’ eyes shut and he wipes his hand down his face, his heart slumping.

"Fuck," he curses, and yet his voice is soft, and slightly hoarse. His hand lingers on Azriel’s face a moment longer, before he lets it drop to the pillow below.

"We still need to talk about—What this—what last night, what all of this means … to us." He exhales a long, shuddering breath. "For our future. And for us."

Azriel sucks in a shuddering breath. "I was an idiot." His jaw flexes as he grinds his teeth in anger. "I projected everything I was feeling on you and that was wrong."

Their gazes finally meet again and lock. "I want to give us another chance. I want us to try again—" He stops himself, wipes his hand over his mouth and then adds, "Given that this is also what you want."

Hesitance and doubt settles in Eris gut like a heavy weight, making his breathing deepen. 

"I promise I’ll do better this time. I‘ll stop convincing myself I’m not good enough for you. I‘ll stop believing that we don’t work out together."

A mix of many emotions flickers over Eris‘ face—worry, longing, fear, … love. He has never stopped loving Azriel, isn’t even sure he would ever be able to do so, but trying a relationship again when last time‘s end tore him into pieces…?

"Azriel…” he starts, but his voice trembles so hard he needs a moment to breathe. He turns his head away and his eyes close.

"I don’t want to lose you. Not again, Eris. Please … let me fight for us. I messed up. I messed up a lot, but I won’t make this mistake again."

Eris exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, still not looking at Azriel. "Last time the break up destroyed me. I can’t do this a second time. I won‘t survive it a second time."

"It won’t happen again. Never again. We will try and we will fight. I will fight to do better, I will—"

"I don’t want you to have to do this. I don’t want you to try and be better or do better. I want to be able to love you and that‘s all, Azriel."

Eris closes his eyes again, and when they open, he turns his head back to Azriel. "I want us to just love each other, without worrying about money or some similar bullshit. I want you, Azriel. Exactly how you are and not some other version of you, some fake version, some act you put on for my benefit. I want you the way you are right now, honest, sincere, vulnerable. I want the Azriel I got to know all those years ago." He pauses to breathe again.

"I’ve never stopped loving you. I want to be with you. All the distance between us, the time we couldn’t spend together showed me how much I actually love you, how much I need you in my life ,” he admits and of their own accord his hands reach out to pull Azriel in again. 

"So, that‘s a yes to trying again?" Azriel places a soft kiss to Eris‘ chest, then fully snuggles his face into the other’s shirt.

Eris is about to answer, but takes a moment to consider. Then he kisses the top of Azriel‘s head. "I want us to give time." His fingers travel down the length of Azriel’s back and up again. "Let's not rush things now. We should give ourselves the time over Christmas to think about everything and then—"

"We‘ll meet and talk?" Azriel pushes up from Eris‘ chest, his sparkling eyes and his sheepish smile hopeful. "I‘ll be by back by the 28th and—"

"Me too." A faint smile forms on Eris‘ lips before he blows out a long, pent-up breath. "Don’t make me regret this."

tags: @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @jules-writes-stories @unanswered-stars @christeareads @mistandmemories @bookishbroadwaybish @c-starstuff-man0 @talibunny30 @nestasgoodside @baileybird71

thank you so much for beta reading @queercontrarian @born-to-riot and @moonlightazriel🫶🏻

[hannahssimblr]

Beginning // Prev // Next

Transcript

Jude: Wow, nice place. What exactly does Leon do, again?

Jonas: He's a photographer sometimes. Other times... his father is an important business man with a lot of money.

Jude: Ah.

Elias: Oh look at you! Look at you! You both look so handsome.

Jude: Thanks. I kind of feel like I'm back in my school uniform.

Elias: you're the birthday boy tonight! Come over, I'll make you a drink. I'm doing cocktails.

...

Elias: Leon! It's Jude's birthday!

Leon. Does he want a cake or something?

Jonas: Oh, if there is cake I will have some, please.

Leon: [scoffs] No, Jonas. I didn't buy a cake for him. He should have known to bring his own if he wanted on.

Jude: Okay? Man, I just came in here for a drink.

Leon. Well maybe you can make your own drink instead of making Elias do it.

Elias: Oh, shut up, old man. I want to do it. Where is my shaker?

...

Dalia: Jude! Happy birthday! Ignore Leon, as usual. If he doesn't act like an asshole he'll explode.

Jude: Great dress.

Dalia: Thank you. Jonas, what do you think?

Jonas: Yes, it is very nice. The colour is quite good.

Dalia: I agree! It looks good on me. And what do you think of my hair?

Jonas: Yes, it is... um... straight.

...

Astrid: So, are you impressed by the apartment after all?

Jude: Pretty small and pokey. You think?

Astrid: I see you found a suit. It looks fine.

Jude: Fine? You know it's my birthday. I think you could drum up more enthusiasm than that.

Astrid: Is it? I completely forgot.

Jude: I don't think you did.

Astrid: You're right. I was playing games. I didn't bring a gift for you. Is that what you were expecting?

Jude: I'd never expect that.

Astrid: Maybe I'll think of something at the last minute.

Jude: But maybe you won't.

Astrid: Exactly, maybe I won't.

Jude: You look nice.

Astrid: Yes.

Jude [laughs] Yes? That's your reply?

Astrid: Yes, I look good. What reply did you want?

Jude: I'm not sure.

Astrid: You don't like that I know it.

Jude: No, I do.

Astrid: Many men don't like it. I think confidence scares them.

Jude: Well, you don't scare me.

Astrid: Interesting.

[oreganosbaby]

Logan wants contradictory things from all of them, though. Roman's masculine affect is merely affect. It isn't even a genuine attempt at dominance because that's not genuinely who he is and he's aware of this. It's all smoke and mirrors, an illusion that's far more appealing than the reality. Logan is unable to accept Roman as he is so, Roman is still pretending to be something he's not even if the illusion is merely created through obfuscating the undesirable traits. A crucial part of Roman is how he's guided by his libido and it will always show itself eventually so, it's impossible for Roman to maintain the illusion for an extended period of time.

Kendall's attempts to be masculine are in earnest and so are his failures. Kendall's desires are a contradiction in that he wants two things that are seen as opposites within Logan's system but, as always, they could be possible outside it. In that sense, he's similar to Logan because they both have this desire to "have it all" but what that means to Kendall is different and I think it's because he's not emotionally constipated and he's never really internalised Logan's beliefs but he's also never formed his own. Roman's desires are just completely counter to Logan's system because he's practically an inversion of him in how he's internalised the vast majority of his beliefs about gender and sex but intuitively identifies with the feminine role instead of the masculine one. So, Roman fits within it but, he just naturally puts himself in the "wrong" role and that's unacceptable.

Woooo time for me to spin off again about the respective ways Roman and Kendall both attempt to perform dominance for their father's sake but internally crave submission, except with Kendall what he wants and what his father wants from him are all twisted and self-contradicting, like he's only really submissive because of how Logan broke him and made him that way, while Roman is kinda just innately like that and wants to be liberated from having to pretend otherwise

[oreganosbaby]

do you think jeryd mencken is a chaser? (unfortunately affectionate)

Not in the sense that he fetishises the idea of like, trans woman cock (like Con would tbh) or so he can do a whole "you don't know you're beautiful" thing or whatever. He's very faceless DL straight(?) guy on Grindr (re: him hiding that ring lol) and I feel like he might merely like the idea that some people, despite being "born with a male body," are just naturally "Female Brained" and treats them accordingly bc that's the "natural order." So, I think he could appreciate that Roman is so "Female Brained" that she needed to transition; he'd like that she "knows her place." I think this makes sense with the way they have almost instant chemistry, like they're each other's perfect "dance partner."

[rthstewart]

More blather about TSG, Peter Pevensie and Mischief and Murder

So, @nasimwritesagain mentioned in a comment to Mischief and Murder about the origin of Peter’s resistance to Rat and Crow (espionage, spying and skullduggery).

You can just move along and not bother with the blather and rambling below. But I was thinking a lot about all this while at my Corgi's playdate this morning and after posting this about TSG, John Pevensie, and whether he is the villain of TSG, wanted to take a swing at this issue too

In the final scene of Mischief and Murder, in the early Spring at the beginning of the second year of their rule, the Four narrowly survive an assassination attempt and this gives rise to the creation of the Royal Guard.  Willa and Sallowpad revive the espionage they undertook during the Long Winter to form the Queen Susan’s Royal Mischief and the King Edmund’s Royal Murder, the Narnian Intelligence Service, “Rat and Crow.”  Peter is not thrilled about this and Dalia and Merle pose a solution:

The High King held up his hand. “Yes, I see now.“ He sighed. “Tell me, truly. Must we have watchers and spies everywhere?” King Edmund and Queen Susan both started to speak but the High King cut them off. “I know what you both think. I want to hear from our advisors.” “Yes,” Willa replied immediately. “Today proved that. You were lucky and they underestimated Narnia tooth and claw. That won’t happen again if they’re smart. Never rely on luck, or your enemy’s stupidity.” “We need to be where those who would harm your Majesties and Narnia might be, High King.” The High King glanced at his brother and sister and they all nodded. “Very well. Please organize your recommendations and present them to me…” Dalia lashed her tail and mewled. “Yes, my Guard?” “Willa already assists Queen Susan as her maid. Sallowpad and King Edmund intend to discuss this and other matters. I recommend you let them do this work and report its results to you.” The High King started to object, Dalia growled again, and Queen Susan and King Edmund started talking over him and each other.  Merle's loud voice boomed over the squabbling, “That’s a great idea, Dalia, since all this Rat and Crow makes Pete sad and angry and Ed and Su like it.”

I thought about a couple of things as I was responding to nasimwrites’ comment.  First, is that in PC, Edmund is annoyed that Peter doesn’t push his advantage over Miraz at one point during their combat and observes, well, that comes of Peter being both a Knight and a King.  (We’ll ignore that Edmund is also a Knight and King).  Asim observes several times in TSG that Peter is true and shining like the sword that was his symbol.  He’s not comfortable in the shadows, though he is smart enough to recognize the necessity of espionage and skullduggery. 

In my head canon, Peter’s resistance to Rat and Crow stems from this innate sense of honor and personal ethics.  This isn’t uncommon – being comfortable with immoral acts to pursue moral ends vexes philosophers and is a reason most people aren’t comfortable with being spies.  As much as it comes across as judgmental (which Peter tries mightily to not do as he knows it makes him a huge hypocrite), this is a legitimate, ethical viewpoint.  At least I’ve wanted readers to see that even if our sympathies all tilt to Susan, Edmund, and the Rats and Crows.  

This little act of delegation by Peter to Susan and Edmund in Mischief and Murder, done when they are angry, frightened children, becomes a huge character arc for all of them over the course of these stories.  

Peter really struggles with what the British (and Susan) are doing in TQSiT. He’s angry at Asim for not being forthcoming; he is uncomfortable now in retrospect with what Susan and Edmund did or may have done in Narnia (under the authority of his knowing delegation).  The whole “My brother and High King, do you want the truth or the lie?” is their gallows humor when Peter responds, “Lie to me.” Edmund later clarifies that he will never lie to Peter – but would, at least at this point in time, commit the sin of omission. 

In contrast, Susan and Tebbit, who deeply care for and respect one another, lie to each other all the time, and/or omit things of enormous consequence.  Hey, I’m 15!  Hey, I’m sending you to Normandy and this stuff about an invasion at Calais is all a lie; you’ll be ground zero for the largest military operation in the history of the world!  They do this to Win The War, deeming truth, mortality, and fidelity necessary casualties in the greater battle.  

In the AW chapter, The Queen Susan in Finchley, Susan and Peter have a heart to heart and Peter is thinking that this whole Rat and Crow business is unseemly and should stop once they win the War.  It angers Susan but they don’t really resolve it.  Peter says he doesn’t blame or judge Susan; he knows he’s responsible too.  But given his discomfort, and his essential character as a knight of Narnia (and Pentacles) and the sword of Narnia, he is regretting immoral acts done for moral ends and he’s resolving to be less tolerant of it going forward.

As I later develop, his refusal to accept Susan’s continuing role in espionage once the War ends becomes a huge source of conflict for them and ultimately leads to the damning, “not a friend of Narnia.”

Something I realized only today is that, in fact, Peter has two significant issues of unresolved guilt – his decision to chase the White Stag to get an heir, thereby ripping Edmund and Lucy from their bondmates, and his decision to delegate Rat and Crow to Edmund and Susan while still enjoying the fruits of it and coming to condemn it later. The man’s got issues and his guilt, his belief that he must please everyone else first, and his moral immaturity may not be resolved until the train crash.

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

Hey guys, some guy from Poland wrote that "There's nothing wrong with disliking other groups, because it's like not liking one person", so I replied that according to his logic "Nazis weren't bad", and he said " And why were they angry?" It made my blood run cold…

Now that I have your attention:

[whispersofalostsoul]

RUNAWAY

Summary: Image if Lando Norris has follen in love for the first time….with a woman that he never thought he could fall for… and when his whole world turns upside down, he finds himself alone…once more...

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(Please leave comments to help me improve my story ! Would also love to hear your opinions ! thank you !)

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Chapter 1 - Encunter --- https://www.tumblr.com/whispersofalostsoul/756913230598815744/runaway?source=share

Chapter2 - Belgium ---https://www.tumblr.com/whispersofalostsoul/757021516150030336/runaway?source=share

Chapter 3 - Dinner --- https://www.tumblr.com/whispersofalostsoul/757096323375824896/runaway?source=share

Chapter 4 - The fight --- https://www.tumblr.com/whispersofalostsoul/757270709880930304/runaway?source=share

Chapter 5 - Sleeping inhttps://www.tumblr.com/whispersofalostsoul/757554318977204224/runaway?source=share

Chapter 6 - Confrontation

Confrontationhttps://www.tumblr.com/whispersofalostsoul/758005643926011904/runaway?source=share

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Chapter 7 - Greece

The Greek breeze felt amazing against Dalia's skin, like a cool splash of refreshment. Syros, a lesser-known gem compared to the more famous Santorini, was just the right spot for celebrities wanting to escape the spotlight. Its charming streets, vibrant culture, and serene beaches offered a perfect retreat from the relentless attention of the media.Carlos, Lando, Oscar, and Alex had booked a spacious villa on the outskirts of Ermoupoli for their summer getaway. The villa, with its traditional Cycladic architecture, boasted whitewashed walls and blue shutters that mirrored the colors of the Aegean Sea. As they stepped out of the car, the intoxicating scent of blooming bougainvillea and jasmine filled the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace."Finally!" Lando shouted, his voice echoing with excitement as he parked the car beside the stunning villa. The sight before them was breathtaking: the place was nestled among gorgeous plants and flowers, with a sprawling terrace that overlooked the sparkling sea. Lily, Alex's girlfriend,  dashed toward the terrace, her eyes wide with wonder. "Look at this view!" she exclaimed, leaning over the railing to take in the panorama of the coastline. The azure waters stretched endlessly, dotted with small boats bobbing gently in the harbor.

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head at Lily's enthusiasm. "Just wait until you see the sunset from here. It's like the sky is on fire," he said, joining her at the railing. Alex, meanwhile, was already unpacking their bags, his mind racing with plans for the week ahead. "We should hit the beach" he suggested, glancing back at the others. "I heard there's a secluded cove not far from here. Perfect for some sunbathing and swimming without the crowds."Oscar nodded, already envisioning the adventures that awaited them. "And we can explore the local tavernas for some authentic Greek food. I'm craving moussaka and fresh seafood!". "Hey Carlos, how did you end up with this place?" Lando asked as he stepped onto the porch. "I thought you already knew," Carlos replied, looking a bit puzzled. "It was your buddy Max who suggested it." Lando just shrugged. Meanwhile, Lily had left with her boyfriend to pick out their room. Carlos leaned in closer to Lando, still gazing at the stunning view. "Looks like this is your chance," he said with a grin. "I'm not so sure," Lando admitted, looking confused. "Last time she called our situation a 'friendship,'" he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "And you want to keep it that way?" Carlos shot back, giving Lando a playful jab in the groin and chuckling. "Come on, Lano, grow some cojones!"

The hallway seemed to go on forever, filled with tons of rooms. Dalia peeked into each one, searching for the right choice. On her fifth attempt, she flung the door open wider and was blown away by the stunning room. The decor was pretty minimal, featuring white walls and a spacious double bed. A classic wooden nightstand fit right in with the dresser. There was a window showcasing a beautiful vase of colorful flowers and a balcony that offered a direct view of the sea. In its simplicity, the room radiated elegance, comfort, and a refreshing vibe. "Have you set up you mind ?" Oscar asked leaning against the frame. Dalia nodded in contempt. "How about you ?" she asked. He sighed heavily and plopped down on the bed. "I'm really trying to steer clear of the room next to Carlos. That guy gets up at the crack of dawn and starts working out. Plus, I want to avoid Alex and Lily too, you know," he said, making a face at Dalia. "Those... weird noises." Dalia chuckled at his words. "What about the room at the end of the hall?" she suggested. "Ghosts," he shot back, looking dead serious. "Wait, you actually believe in ghosts?" Dalia laughed as he went on about how every horror movie shows those rooms as haunted. Just then, they heard a voice. "Have you made your choice?" Lando asked, standing by the door. "Yeah, I'm taking this one," Dalia said. "Cool, then the next one is mine," Lando replied. "No way, I already called dibs on that one," Oscar interrupted, chasing after him. The two guys bickered for a while, while Alex and Carlos just watched, clearly entertained. Eventually, they all decided to settle it with a card game.

The private villa beach was just a short stroll from the back garden. The chairs and sunshades were already set up, ready for a day of fun. The guys took off first, sprinting toward the sparkling blue water, while Lily and Dalia decided to whip up some lemonades and snacks before joining in. Dalia felt lucky to have Lily by her side; she was such a sweet girl and had opened up to her pretty quickly on the way here. Unlike the typical image people might have of F1 drivers' girlfriends, Lily seemed like someone Dalia could really connect with. "So, are you and Lando a thing?" Lily asked, slicing a lemon. Dalia felt her cheeks heat up at the question and replied, "No, no, we're just friends." "Hmm," Lily said, taking a bite of a lemon slice. "The way he talked about you was a bit different." Dalia's heart raced at the implication, and she couldn't help but ask what Lando had said. "I don't know, things like 'Oh, Dalia is such a gorgeous woman; you all are going to love her. '" Lily waved her arms around, trying to imitate Lando's voice. "You know, not in a 'just friends' kind of way, but more like an 'I find her attractive' vibe," she said, giving Dalia a cheeky smirk and a playful wink. Dalia's eyes lit up with curiosity. "You should totally make the first move!" Then she sat up straight, her face turning serious. "I mean, I know Lando, and even though he seems all confident, he's actually pretty shy around girls." Lily shot Dalia a playful grin. "He just needs a little nudge."

The water felt amazing, and Dalia just couldn't get enough. While everyone else headed back to the beach to soak up some sun, she chose to stay a little longer. With her eyes shut, she soaked in the soothing sounds of the cool waves and the warmth of the sun on her skin. It was like she had found her own little slice of paradise. The water started to ripple a bit more, and Dalia spotted Lando swimming her way. He flashed her a smile and said a quick hello as he reached her side. His eyes, reflecting the blue and green of the water and his sun-kissed skin made him look even more attractive. The way the water cascaded off his toned arms and shoulders only added to his allure, making her heart race a little faster. "Hey," she replied, trying to keep her tone casual, though her cheeks felt warm. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly aware of how the sunlight danced on the surface of the water, creating a shimmering backdrop for their conversation. "So do you like it here?" he asked his eyes not leaving hers. "Yes I do, thank you for the invite" she smiled shily, "Of course" he whispered as if his thoughts were trailing away.

Lando couldn't take his eyes off the woman standing before him; it was a feeling he had never experienced. When he caught sight of her in her swimsuit, he was taken aback. She usually wore baggy clothes, so he had no idea her figure would be so appealing. Her skin appeared incredibly smooth, and the blush on her cheeks made her utterly captivating. Those round brown eyes sparkled with a mix of innocence and warmth, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was a turning point, a moment that would change everything.  The thought both excited and terrified him. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if he ruined again whatever they had ?

Dalia caught Lando's gaze drifting from her eyes down to her lips, and her heart raced. The world around them faded into a blur, the sounds of water dimming as the intensity of the moment enveloped them. Finally, she thought, he's going to kiss me! The anticipation was electric, sending shivers down her spine. Oh please, just kiss me already! Dalia's pulse quickened, and she bit her lip, a nervous habit that only seemed to draw his attention further. She could see the flicker of desire in his eyes, a silent conversation passing between them that needed no words. Her thoughts spiraled, imagining the softness of his lips against hers, the warmth of his hands cradling her face, the way time would stand still in that perfect moment. But as she waited, the seconds stretched on, and doubt crept in. What if he didn't feel the same? What if she was reading the signs all wrong? No way! I won't let these doubts take over again. Just when she was about to lean in, her heart racing with anticipation, Lando suddenly plunged into the water with a splash that sent droplets flying in all directions. The moment was so unexpected that it startled her, breaking the tension that had been building between them. He stayed submerged for a bit, and Dalia held her breath, half-expecting him to resurface with a serious expression, ready to address the unspoken words hanging in the air. But instead, he popped back up, his hair slicked back and water glistening on his sun-kissed skin. "Come on! It's time for dinner!" he urged as he started swimming back towards the villa.

Lily was spot on; Dalia had to take the initiative. The thought of stepping out of her comfort zone sent a shiver down her spine, but deep down, she knew that she couldn't let fear dictate her life any longer. It was time for a change, she thought as she slipped into her light green dress adorned with tiny white flowers. With Lily's help, she styled her hair into a messy bun that framed her face beautifully, allowing a few delicate strands to cascade down her neck. The casual elegance of her look made her feel more confident, and she could see the excitement in Lily's eyes as she added the final touches. "You look amazing, Dalia! Tonight is your night," Lily encouraged, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. Dalia took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and exhilaration.They decided to have dinner at a cozy outdoor spot in a traditional Greek restaurant, where the air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of grilled meats and fresh herbs. The soft glow of string lights overhead created a warm and inviting atmosphere, perfect for a night of new beginnings. As they arrived, Lando, dressed casually in his white shirt and black shorts, felt his heart race when Dalia appeared.

She looked stunning, and the dress highlighted her complexion perfectly, accentuating her natural beauty. The way the fabric flowed around her as she walked made it seem as if she were gliding rather than simply moving. Her hair pulled up showcased the lovely curve of her neck and shoulders, making it hard for him to catch his breath. As she approached, Lando couldn't help but notice the sparkle in her eyes, a reflection of her newfound determination. "Wow, you look incredible," he managed to say, his voice slightly shaky. Dalia smiled, a hint of shyness creeping in, but there was also a glimmer of confidence that hadn't been there before. "Thank you" she replied, her voice steady and filled with a newfound. They were all gathered around the big table, the atmosphere buzzing with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Oscar and Carlos sat across from Dalia and Lando, while Alex and Lily were at the end of the table enjoying the view from the window. As the conversation flowed, the Australian driver wasted no time in complimenting Dali's appearance. The compliment hung in the air, and Lando felt a slight knot form in his stomach. Without really thinking about it, Lando reached his arm around Dalia, gently brushing against the bare skin of her back. The warmth of her skin sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he immediately regretted the impulsive gesture. Dali was surprised by the unexpected touch, her eyes widening for a brief moment as she processed the intimacy of the action. However, she quickly adjusted to it, leaning slightly into Lando's side, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she turned her attention back to the conversation.

As the night wore on, the conversation ebbed and flowed, with jokes and playful teasing filling the air. Lando and Dalia found themselves gravitating toward each other, their connection deepening with each passing moment. They shared plenty of close moments, their conversations punctuated by playful nudges and knowing smiles. Occasionally, Lando's hand would lightly brush against hers, a fleeting touch that lingered just a bit longer than necessary, sending a ripple of warmth through them both. Sometimes, she'd notice him gazing at her, his eyes twinkling with delight as he absorbed the sound of her laughter. There were also times when he'd lean in to whisper something in her ear, his breath warm against her skin, sending delightful shivers down her spine. The intimacy of those moments was intoxicating; she could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the way his voice danced just above a whisper made her pulse quicken. Each time he leaned closer, he couldn't resist taking in the sweet scent that surrounded her—a delicate blend of floral notes and something uniquely her, a fragrance that lingered in the air long after he had moved away. 

As the evening stretched on, the group figured it was time to head back to the villa since exhaustion was starting to set in. When they arrived back to the villa, Dalia grabbed Lando's hand, halting him from joining the others inside. The suddenness of her grip surprised him, and he turned to her, a bit confused, waiting for her to say something. Dalia felt a wave of panic wash over her, fidgeting nervously as she tried to muster the courage to go for that kiss she had been dreaming about for weeks. "Are you alright?" Lando asked, puzzled, his brow furrowing slightly as he searched her face for answers. "No, please don't say anything," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper, as she gazed up into his eyes. The intensity of his gaze made her heart flutter, and she felt as if the world around them had faded away, leaving just the two of them in this suspended moment. She could see the concern etched on his features, but all she could think about was the way his lips curved when he smiled, the way his laughter echoed in her mind long after it had faded.

Without further thinking, she leaned in closer, closing the distance between them. Lando's breath hitched as their lips met, a spark igniting between them that felt like fireworks exploding in the night sky. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of them lost in the intensity of their connection. Dalia jerked back, laughing nervously, "Oh my god, I actually did it!" Her heart raced as the adrenaline of the moment coursed through her veins. The thrill of spontaneity had taken over, and she couldn't believe she had just kissed him. Lando, still in shock from the moment, blinked rapidly, trying to process what had just happened. "No way, that doesn't count," he replied. he moved with a quickness that took her by surprise. In a fluid motion, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. The warmth of his body enveloped her, and she felt a rush of electricity at the contact. He closed the distance between them, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was soft at first, a tentative exploration, but it quickly deepened as they both surrendered to the moment. Dalia felt herself melting into him, her worries and doubts dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer, and she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest. Each gentle caress sent shivers down her spine, awakening a longing she hadn't realized was there. Dalia's fingers tangled in his hair, feeling the softness of each strand as she deepened the kiss, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and vulnerability.Time seemed to stand still as they explored this new territory together, their breaths mingling in the cool air. She could taste the sweetness of his lips, a flavor that was intoxicating and addictive.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The chaos of life, the expectations, the fears—all of it faded into the background as they lost themselves in each other.

As they finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, Dalia searched his gaze for reassurance. The warmth in his eyes mirrored her own feelings, a silent promise that this was just the beginning. She knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, emboldened by the spark that had ignited between them.

[zordanna]

The Moon And Her Stars

Ofelia Russel age 11

Eleonora Russel age 9

(So- i hate writing, i'm italian and english is not my first language i apologise if there are mistakes. This is just my brainrot about my hogwarts legacy mcs taking over my mind and art lmao)

The Russel family was one of the most affluent families in the wizardry society, despite the fame they weren't purebloods actually the information about them were almost inexistent. No one actually questioned anything ,the respect is easily obtainable when you can afford a ball every month with delicacies from all over the world. The head of this empire was Astor Russel, a man with a sharp mind and a deep carnal passion for money, The Daily Prophet frequently praised his achievments with articles over articles about his successful career and investments, however the image that he was trying to sell was far from the stylish polite gentleman he pretended to be, the moment the doors of his manor were closed the affable smile on his lips would always turn into an ice cold emotionless line. The house elves would step back terrified at his arrive, not even dare to look at him in the eyes fearing he might pour his unmotivated rage on one of them. However, Mr Russel had his favourite target for that, the one he thought responsible for every wrong thing in his life. Dear Readers, this little interaction whatever this is it's about Ofelia Russel and her sister Eleonora. Ofelia is the first daughter Of Astor Russel and Jane Dalia ,his first wife, who died while giving birth to Ofelia. Eleonora is the fruit of his second marriage with the witch Margaret Estrella probably the only woman he ever felt slight affection for, also because she desired power and success just like him, fueling his motivation.

This story begins with the Moon.

The soft rays of moonlight were tickling her pale skin,Ofelia groaned as she heard soft steps on the wooden floor of her room and the quick faint sound of a quill writing on paper.The young red haired girl opened her olive green eyes to scan the bedroom, a little smile crept across her face as soon she realised who was making all that noise. A messy nest of blonde curls was moving around the room carrying astronomy tools while mumbling incomprehensible words.

"Eleonora, what in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Ofelia asked with a snort while stumbling out of her bed. Eleonora made a soft whine as she noticed her bigger sister woke up because of her.

"Lelia i'm sorry- Tonight there's full moon so i wanted to take few notes- i'm sorry-"

Lelia,only her could ever use that silly nickname.

Ofelia rose a hand to gently hush her apologies and walked next to her sitting under the large window of their room, she took the telescope from Eleonora's smaller hands and helped her setting it up. Eleonora smiled and snuggled next to Ofelia as they silently enjoyed eachother's company . The blondie adjusted the lenses of her telescope delicately twisting the golden carved rings with gentle movements,her freckled hands were always trembling but when it was about astronomy her moves were always precise.

"what are you searching for tonight, little Aristarchus of Samus?A comet? a new constellation maybe?"

Eleonora groaned at her sister's teasing and replied with a little grin that made her tiny nose wrinkle a bit.

"nothing in particular, i just want to observe the moon, isn't she beautiful?"

She crouched near the tiny telescope to observe the natural satellite of earth gazing at it with her curious big blue eyes , Ofelia couldn't care less about the the moon, her gaze was fixed on the funny little expressions of concentrtion and wonder Eleonora was making. Despite having different mothers their bond was probably the only thing that made them both survive in such an abusive environment,Ofelia often thought about that, without Eleonora she wouldn't be able to bear their father's rage or the burden of being the outcast in the family, Margaret never actually showed interest for her neither she did much for her own daughter Eleonora. While the two parents were out attending to parties and balls Ofelia took care of Eleonora with their house elf Dolly,it wasn't much but for her their trio was what she considered family .The age gap between them was of almost 2 years, Ofelia had just celebrated her 11th birthday and soon she would go to Hogwarts.That worried her deeply, she would leave Eleonora for almost two years in that mansion…and that wasn't good. Her train of thoughts was interrupted by Eleonora's sweet voice.

"Ooh look at that!"

Eleonora exclaimed pulling Ofelia by the shoulder to look in the lense, Ofelia squinted her eyes trying to understand what she saw that was so important to notice.

"I gotta be brutally honest with you…i just see a white glowing ball…similar to cheese"

She whined at Ofelia's statement and replied huffing a bit.

"Look better! let me just-"

She traced a figure with her finger on the reflected image of the moon and Ofelia actually started to understand what Eleonora meant, it looked like a girl's side profile.

"it looks like you! look there's even the mole under the eye"

The blonde said looking very proud of her statement, Ofelia rolled her eyes and chuckled seeing her sister so happy warmed her heart.

"Yeah ok now i can brag about the fact my side profile is carved on the moon's surface. And who discovered that? My sweet and talented little sister"

The redhead girl playfully pinched Eleonora's cheeks, the younger girl chuckled happily making those cute freckles move slightly. Ofelia smiled warmly at her, she was her joy, her little star, her hope and strenght.

"They look like stars you know?"

She blurted out fixing few messy blonde strands out of her sisters's round puffy face

"My freckles? Nah Dad says they make my face look dirty"

She said touching her own face almost to cover it.

"Don't listen to that man. like never. ugh"

Ofelia gently took her tiny hands in hers and squeezed them as she talked

"They don't look just like stars, they are made of stardust!" She stated trying to sound the more convincing she could.

"Stardust? really!?" Eleonora gasped touching her cheeks with a curious expression,Ofelia nodded and kept going.

"Mhmh! That's because you always have your nose up looking at the night sky! no wonder some stardust fell on your face!"

The older sister looked at how her little one immediately ran to the mirror to check. the tiny happy smile on her lips made Ofelia understand she was believing her.

"Come on star girl we gotta sleep now."

Ofelia mumbled taking her hand and guiding her to bed, she let Eleonora go under the thick covers and tucked her well so she would stay warm. When she moved to walk to her own bed Ofelia was stopped by a tiny grip on her nightgown. She turned around to see Eleonora gripping on the white cloth, she had a sad look, one of a lost puffskein puppy.

"Lelia…can you please stay here for a bit?"

Ofelia sighed and sat on the bed, she took Eleonora's unicorn plush and placed it in her arms like every night

"Of course little star.I'm not leaving till you are finally sleeping."

Eleonora squeezed her plush and with a drowsy mumble she said

"Don't leave…"

"Ok i can sleep here if yo-"

"Don't leave for Hogwarts…Or at least take me with you"

Ofelia's heart broke hearing her sister's pleading voice, she softly caressed Eleonora's forehead trying to soothe her

"I can't do that,you know it…But in just a little more than a year you will be in Hogwarts too, we will explore every corner and go to Hogsmeade to buy tons of sweets"

Eleonora seemed to be distracted by the images of a lighthearted life full of freedom Ofelia was narrating while combing her blonde locks. Seeing it was working Ofelia kept talking trying to make Eleonora bear the situation better.

"Hogwarts also has a massive astronomy tower you know? with a huuuge telescope, ancient starmaps and everything you can dream of."

Eleonora looked at Ofelia with curiosity and wonder as sleep was slowly taking over her body

"Really?"

"Really."

The blonde girl snuggled under the covers as she finally calmed down. Ofelia laid next to her and smiled gesturing towards the moon with her pale hand

"Whenever you miss me, look at the Moon. When it's not full yet it will mean i'm smiling at you, and i certainly expect you to smile back uh! Ok?"

Eleonora chuckled softly at the silly idea, but honestly she would feel less alone knowing they were under the same sky

"And when the moon is full, i want you to study everything about it, i want the cute sketches and the silly doodles understood?I want to see them all in your letters"

She spoke softly as she noticed Eleonora was finally falling asleep. Her blue eyes closed after a soft nod and her breathing became heavy and slow ,Ofelia kissed her forehead and whispered her last few words before sleep would take over her too

"I'll be your Moon and you can be my Stars…always together, holding hands in the vast darkness of the night sky"

No matter how dark the sky is, The Moon and her Stars will always shine trough, and when the light of the Moon is not enough The Stars will surround her with their spark guiding her across the sky till morning comes.

Like a sister reaching for the other

Holding her hand firmly while they walk side by side towards an uncertain future

They don't know where they are going or who they will become

They just have eachother for now

And that's enough.

[oreganosbaby]

yeah that's fair. i think it was a moment of emotional leakage for roman which means she will very likely do something that's kind of against her father's will. she simply can't help it because it's painful to do all this stuff and while she has an amazing threshold for this, it doesn't change the fact that she truly just wants to forfeit the game. ken and shiv maybe couldn't get the outright approval directly from their father but they still felt they could get it via succeeding (killing) him while roman was entirely dependent on receiving direct approval-- shiv and kendall want to "take" what they "deserve" while roman is sitting there waiting to receive. it's a bit easier to walk away if she believes he doesn't actually want her and that to him, she actually is replaceable. also thanks for replying!

the closing scene of dundee is so good (this is not for tears press conference scene got nothing on her). the put-downs by marcia and ewan sounded all the more cutting contrasted with cox's whispery delivery. and the "we last saw her when you were five and I was four - but you know what kind of journalism she would have approved of?" god.

[bloodandrunes]

Could you do the Ro's reaction to the mc dying to protect them? I'm feeling a bit angsty today.

Sorry this took so long, anon. Answer beneath the cut.

When you die, so do the last vestiges of Aariz’s humanity. He cradles your body as he desperately puts pressure on your wound. The wound that would have been his, had you not dove in front of him. That should have been his.

“Hang on,” he says, panic clawing at his throat, “Tamys will be here soon. You’ll be fine.” Your breathing is shallow and your chest rises weakly, and anger and terror and disbelief fill him. “Stay with me,” he repeats, snarling, pleading.

Your grip on his hand slackens. He blinks, nudges you, presses his face into your neck, feeling almost like a child again. Memories of that day flash across his mind and he sobs. When your body goes cold, he throws his head back and legs out a blood-curdling howl, too savage and broken to be human.

Dalia is consumed by helplessness as she tries to stop the bleeding. You smile at her through bloodied teeth, eyelids fluttering, and she grits her teeth and tries to reassure you.

"You're going to be fine," she says, smoothing down your hair. "Help will come soon." Even as she makes that promise, she knows it is a lie. A bitter self-loathing scorches through her as your breath rattles in your chest. It should have been her, she thinks feverishly, she can't lose anyone else. If the gods were good, if they had any mercy, you would not have thrown yourself in front of that blade for her.

Suddenly, she notices that your smile as dropped. You aren't breathing. "No." The words come out as a gasp, a prayer. "No, please."

The gods do not hear her pleas. You still in her arms. And as Dalia feels the warmth leave your body, she shatters into a thousand tiny pieces.

Shock numbs Adys' reaction. He doesn't understand, at first, why there is red spreading throughout your chest, why you are gurgling on what looks like your own blood, or why there is a dead man standing a distance away.

Then you begin to fall, and he's going to be sick.

He tries to catch you, but with his bad leg, it's a lost cause. The two of you go tumbling to the floor. You let out a choked, pained noise, and he cups your face in his hands. The bile rises in his throat, and he barely manages to turn his head away from you before he vomits. He hasn't fought in a long time, but he knows what a wound like yours means. You won't be surviving this.

He wants to scream, wants to bare his teeth and burn this damnable world down around him, but instead he presses a kiss to your forehead and tries to sooth you. "There, there," he murmurs, blinking away his tears with a shaky smile, "be still, love. It's alright."

He holds you until the end, and when you're gone, he finally lets the tears fall.

Ralys is in a place somewhere beyond rage. Her assailant has been apprehended, but she couldn't give half a damn about that. Instead, her attention fixed on you. You, with you body weak from blood loss, your grip on her hand weak. Her father's best physicians work to help you, their faces pinched.

"There isn't much we can do for them, Your Highness," one of them says.

The cold look Ralys sends him cuts him to the bone. "You will save them," she replies too-calmly, gripping your hand tighter, "or I will have your head."

He pales and hastens to do as he's told. Ralys presses her lips to the back of your knuckles. "All will be well," she promises, meaning it. "You will not die here."

Your smile tells her that you do not believe her, and she grits her teeth and repeats her words. Distantly, she thinks that she will kill your murderer for this. No, not just that. She will make him beg for death.

The palace is haunted by the blood curdling screams he lets out after you die.

Idar's knuckles are stained with blood and mangled flesh. He slams his fist into his assassin's face again and again, his vision bleeding red. The man is long dead. His face caved in on itself within minutes. Still, Idar keeps on, something primal and vicious and all-consuming burning through him. Desperation, too. If he keeps punching, he doesn't have to turn his attention away from getting you justice. Doesn't have to see your twisted, lifeless body on the floor--

In the background, he can hear someone calling to him. "Idar," Fal is screaming, "Idar, that's enough!"

Hands grip at his shoulders and yank him off. He howls, claws at the person who's dare to touch him, and meets Fal's concerned eyes. "Idar," his best friend says, eyes soft and pitying, "the man is dead. This won't bring back your lover."

Idar swallows hard. Looks down at his hands and his shirt and the man who dared you to take you from him. His eyes slide to your corpse.

Then the dam breaks and he's falling into Fal's waiting arms.

Zara's vision is blurry with tears. She curls into your arms, burying her face in the crook of your neck. Your skin is cold to the touch, the floor around the two of you sticky with blood. If she were to look into your eyes, she would be met with blank emptiness.

She knows this, and yet she cannot bear to leave you.

She needs to eat something, to drink, or at least call for help, and yet she cannot bring herself to get up. "I will soon," she promises herself. The lie leaves a bitter taste on her tongue. She burrows further into your hold.

She is tired. So tired. Her eyelids begin to droop. Maybe, she thinks, when she opens her eyes, this will all be some horrible dream. She will wake, and you will be lying beside her, mouth curved into a smile, skin warm, and eyes bright with life.

Yes, she thinks, that's it. This is just a terrible nightmare.

They find her like that, intertwined with your corpse.

Against her better judgement, Arassa almost hates you for your sacrifice. "Why would you do that?" she demands, voice straining against the lump in her throat.

You wheeze against her as she leads you to the bed, struggling to support your wait. "Had... to... save you," you gasp, and part of her wants to slap you.

How dare you die on her. How dare you bring light to her life, only to leave her to live with the guilt that you died for her. Do you not understand that she will live with this guilt, this grief, for the rest of her life? It will seep into her skin and burrow into her bones until mourning you is the only thing she knows how to feel. Until it consumes her and there is nothing left.

"That isn't fair," she chokes out, pressing her forehead to yours. A sob tears from her throat and she hugs you tightly. "I never wanted you to die for me. I would never have asked you to."

She waits for your response for one second. Then two. Then three.

When no reply comes, she slowly raises her head, only to meet lifeless eyes.

And then she screams and dies with you, if not in body then in soul.

[whatwedointhecraft]

@radiozilla replied to your post “@watermeezer Chaos about Dalia, Gordon to Dania”:

Me about Wendy's after the one close to me closed

​DANI IM CRYING

[highinfidclitys]

the sound of the voice behind her was enough to bring a welcome smirk to her face, before she'd even had the chance to turn her head to confirm that it was exactly who she thought it was coming up behind her in the coffee shop. she'd recognise that tone anywhere –– especially when she was practically waiting for it, only frequenting the spot in the hopes that their paths might cross once again. "isn't it funny how the universe works like that?" she asked, tongue practically following their thumb as it grazed at her bottom lip, hand reaching for the others crotch before she'd had a chance to finish her proposition. "couldn't ever have you thinking i'm not a good hole." she certainly didn't need to be told twice, dropping to her knees in the middle of the shop, lips kissing at the fabric between her and the cock she was practically salivating for as fingers worked to free it.

open for: subby f/femme faces plot: close to a classic free use verse ! just not based on gender obvs, and public sex is normalized

"you know, i'd say we've got to stop meeting like this, but i'm starting to think you don't mind." nicola chuckles as she joins the other waiting in line for morning coffee. clearly they share a similar schedule and affinity for this particular spot—and the tasty treat she's given the other's mouth the last couple times hasn't exactly stopped them from coming back. "imagine you showing up yet again right when i start thinking i need a good hole to use… what a coincidence!" she's clearly teasing, but there's a goal to it, nicola smirking as she casually cups their chin. she brushes her thumb over their lips, a less than subtle reminder of how much she enjoyed fucking their mouth last time, before letting her touch trail over the collar marking the other as free use for people like nicola. "you want to be a good hole for me, don't you? you might as well get on your knees while we're in line."

[oreganosbaby]

My vision for Roman's endgame is that he gets diagnosed as a hysteric by the board of Waystar Royco and sent to the seaside to recover his nerves.

bye i was listerally just talking abt this. i need it so bad.