#how to travel armenia

[wndaswife]

Hi if your requests are open :) I saw you write for Gerri Fields and THANK YOU BECAUSE THERE IS LITERALLY NO FICS OF HER(Favourite Lizzie character)

But I was wondering if I could request a fic! So basically R and Gerri are together but it’s just fluff and banter! Gerri Invites Reader over to the party her parents are throwing and Gerri is just trying to sneak away with R until Gerri’s family keep calling them back?

If you can’t do this request it’s no problem thank you for taking the time to read it anyways :) I love your fics and I hope you have an amazing Day/Night

baby steps | gerri fields & fem!reader

It’s the first official night you’re spending together as girlfriends, but neither you nor Gerri can find enough peace to get each other alone.

Word count: 2845

Tags: fluff, humour, suggestive language, cute little gays trying doing their cute little gay things, ft. gerri’s chaotic family

A/N: yeah i totally get that!! i really love gerri too so im really glad you enjoy reading my fics ab her as much as i love writing them <3 thanks for requesting this!!

“Did you bring your laptop?” 

You dug through your bag and carefully pulled your laptop out before setting it down on Gerri’s bed.

“The charger?” she asked.

You answered, “Yeah.”

Tonight was the first night you were spending with Gerri now that you were dating. You’d been best friends with each other since the first year of high school and there’d been likely hundreds of sleepovers before, but there was a bit of an unspoken excitement between the two of you tonight.

Over the past three weeks, you’d been getting to know the roommate you’d be moving in with in September, and last week you went to one of her parties a city away with Gerri. 

For your future roommate, it was a farewell party for her thrown a bit earlier in the summer because one of her best friends was going to be travelling to Armenia with not enough time to have a big party like they wanted once they came back — so they celebrated in July.

For you and Gerri, it was a chance to get out of the neighbourhood you’ve always known around the people you’ve always known, and the both of you were rather excited to get out for a while because you’d be staying there overnight due to how long the drive was, and neither of you, including your roommate, wanted you travelling that far so late into the night.

Maybe it was just how overwhelming the night was or how different things were there, but you ended up leaving the party to take a walk around the neighbourhood with Gerri. You walked around together talking about things you liked about home and all the memories you shared together from years ago — old crushes, old friends, each other.

Wrapped up in the warm feeling of nostalgia and sharing in each other’s sole company, it was Gerri who kissed you first, who took your hand and cupped your cheek and pulled you close. But it was you who then had her back against a nearby tree, hugging her around the waist and running your hands through her hair, taking your best friend as yours for the first time.

It didn’t seem like things were all too different now that you were together. It felt like that was a testament to how close the two of you have always been, and how long-developed the love for each other had been growing until one night it just had to give.

So although neither of you had outright said it, tonight was a bit of a milestone. 

Both of you were determined to be able to spend time alone together, to delve into the depths of your relationship that’d been waiting patiently for your exploration — waiting for years. Now you didn’t have to look at each other and feel the soft stirring deep within your chests at the sight of one another and attribute all of it to simply being close friends.

Now, you could feel what you’d always felt for one another and do it all as girlfriends.

“Toothbrush?”

You searched through the smaller bag that you put aside for your toiletries. 

“No, I forgot it,” you replied with a wince. “Shit.”

Gerri waved her hand dismissively. “Okay,” she said. “It’s fine, we have an extra and you can use the toothpaste I have.” 

“Orrr,” you drawled as you crept up to your girlfriend while she dug through the linen closet in the hallway for an extra toothbrush, “I could just use yours.”

She laughed and pushed you off of her with her hand on your shoulder when you wrapped your arms around her waist from behind. “That’s disgusting,” she said. 

“I read in an article that the healthiest relationships share stuff, you know — shampoo, clothes, toothbrushes.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked and raised an eyebrow, closing the linen closet with a new toothbrush in her hand as you followed her back into her bedroom. “Where’d you read that? Bullshit-dot-org?”

You sat down on her bed with a dramatic huff and rubbed your palms against her soft sheets. 

“You’re not being very romantic right now,” you teased and watched as she set the toothbrush down on your bag. 

The corner of Gerri’s mouth twitched upwards and she repressed a tiny smirk as she walked over to you so you were looking up at her. “Not being romantic enough?” she asked. She slid her knee between your legs and with a hand on your shoulder, carefully pushed you back so she could lean over you. 

Leaning down further while your back was now flat on her bed, Gerri hooked her fingers around the collar of your shirt and tugged down so she could kiss your exposed collarbone, making you shudder. 

She was so gentle. 

Until last week, you’ve never known Gerri like this before, but you’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about how gentle her hands would be on your body or how her soft lips would feel like on yours. 

She was more adventurous than you imagined, often taking the initiative to slip herself on top of you and bury you in intimate, warm kisses. It always made you rather flustered because prior to the first time you were underneath her, you had no idea how much passion had been resting within her. 

You haven’t had sex together yet, but just thinking about it made you lightheaded. 

“What do you know about romance?” she taunted, and you could see from the corner of your eyes how she looked up at you from the crook of your neck with a grin. 

You stuttered and cleared your throat before finally being able to say, “I know… a little.”

“Tell me,” Gerri said, her fingers inching up your hip underneath your shirt, still preoccupied with pressing soft ghosting kisses up your neck. 

Your brain completely short circuited and you pathetically answered, “I can send you the article.”

Gerri’s laugh escaped her in a sharp exhale of breath against your neck and she raised her head to laugh. “You fucking idiot,” she said and lifted her hand that was under your shirt to slap your side. 

The weight she had on your chest made it hard for you to laugh and you had to turn onto your side and let out a wheeze-like laugh. 

A knock came at the bedroom door and Gerri straightened while you struggled between slowly-subsiding giggles to move onto your elbows. 

Gerri’s mom opened the door and peeked her head inside. “Are you both ready?” she asked. 

“Yep!” you answered and sat up properly. “And I hope you don’t mind, but I forgot my toothbrush and Gerri gave me one of the extra ones in the linen closet.”

“That’s fine, honey,” Kate replied with a friendly smile. She then entered her daughter’s bedroom and began tinkering around with the things on Gerri’s desk idly while she spoke.

“Should I be worried about the two of you?” she asked and side-eyed the both of you inconspicuously. 

Your girlfriend gave you an unknowing look before asking, “What?”

“I mean the two of you…” Kate pressed then leaned back against the desk. She pressed the sides of her index fingers together. “College students. Dating. Sleeping in the same room.”

Gerri’s face immediately turned red and she quickly walked over to her mom and pulled her from the desk before urging her out of the room. 

“Ger, I’m a very accepting woman and I love that you’re dating Y/N, but–”

She was cut off when she was pushed out of the bedroom. 

“Keep the door open!” Kate tried to squeeze in before Gerri shut the door in her face and promptly locked it. 

Over the next hour, guests began filling the house to celebrate Danny’s birthday while you and Gerri stayed up in her bedroom snacking on liquorice and caramel M&Ms.

When parties happened at Gerri’s for Kate, the crowd was mostly filled with laidback wine moms, but when parties were filled with mostly Danny’s coworkers and friends, parties were lively and a bit loud and full of overly-excited drunks — himself included.

But once the scent of barbecue from the backyard started travelling up to Gerri’s room, neither of you could hold back waiting until you could sneak out and get some food without being noticed.

Maybe you should’ve gone out earlier when there weren’t as many people, but you both easily lost track of time when Gerri started playing you a bunch of new songs she was trying to learn on her guitar; after each song, at least one of you would keep saying that you had time for her to play just one more before you went downstairs to get food.

As if trekking through dangerous terrain, Gerri went downstairs first while you followed behind slowly. She mapped out the backyard and spotted the table set up with food. 

In the driveway, a few cars shut their doors and Gerri pulled you out to the back with her so you could both quickly fill your plates before the next wave of guests filed into the backyard. 

Wordlessly, she gave you a plate and a fork and an empty cup so you could make quick work of bringing the food and drinks up to her bedroom. 

Chatter went on in the background and Gerri listened in on the conversation to keep herself aware of whether she or you were yet detected.

Once you finished filling your plates, Gerri put her hand on your upper back and urged you forward. She whispered in your ear beyond clenched teeth, “Hurry, hurry.”

“Oh! Ladies!” Kate called out to both of you and hurried over to grab Gerri’s hand.

“Mom…” she hissed quietly, trying to protest without making too much of a fuss lest she bring about more attention to the both of you. 

Though you weren’t pulled back with her, you didn’t want to leave Gerri outside alone so you stuck around too and followed behind your girlfriend while she was pulled back into the depths of the precarious backyard.

Ignoring her daughter’s complaints, Kate turned around and introduced her to the guests who just stepped into the backyard with dishes of food in their hands.

“Have you met my daughter Gerri?” she asked them and placed a hand on her back, urging her forward subtly. 

“Hi,” Gerri greeted, and you could hear her response grit out of her as if her throat had suddenly become the texture of a cheese grater. 

She chatted a little with Kate and Danny’s mutual friends, and from the corner of your eye you could see Danny approaching. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and looked over to Gerri, who also noticed her father approaching before quickly becoming impatient, evident in the way she began running her fingernail along the side of her paper plate anxiously.

“Oh, heavens,” Kate said and reached back to then wrap an arm around you and pull you forward. “We’re completely ignoring Y/N.”

A brief wordless exchange of desperation was shared between you and Gerri’s eyes when she caught sight of you being pulled in front of her. 

Kate rubbed her hand against your upper arm and introduced you: “This is Y/N — Gerri’s girlfriend.”

“Mom!” whined Gerri as she tugged at her mom’s sleeve to keep her quiet. Her face looked flushed and she avoided eye contact with you, and it seemed to you that she felt flustered and embarrassed and you thought it was really cute. 

You subtly bumped your knuckle against her hand and she smiled at you shyly.

“What?” Kate asked cluelessly, looking between the both of you. “Gerri, honey, we all support you here. Don’t be shy. It’s not nice to exclude your girlfriend from things.” 

“We’re so proud of the two of them,” Danny said and wrapped his arms around both you and Gerri, pulling the both of you into a side hug. “We always worried some heartbreaker would come in and swoop our sweet girl away from us, but we struck gold by having Y/N join our family. We’ve always considered her as one of our own.”

His words nearly nestled within you with great sentiment and warmth and you parted your lips to thank him graciously before he added, “You know, my best friend in high school was gay.”

Gerri groaned and pushed her dad away before taking your wrist and dragging you back inside, hot steam practically fuming out of her ears.

Danny shook his fists in the air happily. “I love the gays!” he then exclaimed to which several of his friends also cheered.

Daytime drinking was no joke.

When you finally got back into the house together and were passing the living room, three of Gerri’s much-younger cousins that just started playing Mario Kart on the Switch turned around and cheered together with bright smiles, “Hi, Gerri’s girlfriend!”

“Her name is Y/N,” Kate called across the kitchen as she was bringing in an empty pitcher of water to refill.

Gerri’s head snapped back around to scowl at her mother who she just couldn’t seem to get away from.

“Hi, Y/N!” her cousins corrected, still waving cheerfully.

You smiled back and waved, “Hello, Gerri’s cousins.”

They found that a little funny for whatever reason and their giggles made you laugh.

“Why can’t you guys just mind your own business and play your stupid game?” Gerri angrily snapped at them and pulled you upstairs by the wrist.

Peering over your girlfriend’s shoulder as she led you back upstairs, you exchanged one more wave with her cousins who were still smiling at you from the living room.

When the two of you finally got back to her bedroom, Gerri locked her door and told you that neither of you were to open it if someone knocked, and if needed she’d talk to whoever was outside only through the closed door. 

After that rule was sternly set, the both of you changed into more comfortable clothes as you weren’t planning on going back out any further than the kitchen for the rest of the night.

While sitting at her desk together eating with a show playing on her laptop, you mixed a bite of a caramel M&M with a bite of steak to prove to her that chocolate and meat did indeed mix together well.

You opened your mouth to show her but didn’t even get half a second into it before her hand landed right on your face and she pushed you back.

“You’re so gross,” she laughed and handed you her water bottle, still convinced that it tasted horrendous together. But you pushed forward after you swallowed and nuzzled your nose against her cheek. 

Feeling suddenly sentimental in the cool air of her bedroom doing nothing but spending time together like you always had as friends and now as girlfriends, you hugged her tight and spoke against her cheek, “You’re my best friend, Gerri.”

She set her water bottle down and turned her head so she could look at you. “You’re mine too,” she said and smiled happily.

Sometimes when it came suddenly without either of you really thinking about it, kissing each other often made you both feel a bit stunned afterwards for just a second or two like how it felt just then when she kissed you.

It was something to get used to — the fact that you could kiss each other now.

A part of you hoped neither of you would ever get used to it though, because you loved seeing Gerri look away from you afterwards while her cheeks were flushed a soft pink, and how much wider her smile got when you kissed her again while she was still feeling a bit shy.

When the two of you got tired, you laid in bed together with Gerri’s arms wrapped around your body hugging you securely from behind, her chin resting atop your head. She played with your fingers idly while you continued to watch your show together on her laptop.

Eventually, you could tell from the sound of her breathing that she was beginning to fall asleep and although she told you she could stay up for a little longer, you convinced her to sleep when you turned around and laid her head against your chest. She told you that she’d wake up later so you didn’t have to end the night off so early and that she was only taking a small nap.

You kept your fingers slowly massaging the back of her head so she didn’t have to try keeping herself awake, and so the next time Gerri woke up was early in the morning with the soft light from her desk still on and your warm arms still wrapped around her body while you slept.

Your first night spent together as lovers, albeit initially frenzied, ended up being nothing less than perfect. 

But what was your friendship with Gerri if not a bit chaotic from time to time?

That was how you liked it, anyway.

[cauliarty]

Okay

I will be taking drawing requests in exchange for proof of donation to a gofundme or charity that supports any nation or people undergoing crisis, oppression, colonization, or genocide.

Donate what you want or can and send proof, as well as your request.

I’m not taking NSFW or fetish art or anything unsanitary. Also I will not be taking anything overly complicated!

I might do color, but expect a pen and paper sketch.

List of evacuation gofundmes (Palestine)

Gaza Funds website

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Links to help Congo

Goma Actif (nonprofit working in North Kivu to provide aid to the displaced people in DR Congo)

Linktree: Funds for Gaza (a rotating list of evacuation fundraisers)

El Shan Hussein’s vetted evacuation fundraisers for Palestine

Hussein also made a post on Focus Congo

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Let's Take Action For Congo

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Hope for Ukraine

Armenia Fund

Health Professionals Network for Tigray

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List of Links to Donate for Syria

Google Doc list of Gaza fundraisers

Organizations you can donate to to help the Armenians

Doctors Without Borders

Islamic Relief USA

UNICEF

Palestine Children's Relief Fund

Post of other organizations to donate to for Gaza and Sudan

Help Ezzideen & his family to Evacuate Gaza (1/4 way)

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Hamdi Hijazi: A Father’s Appeal for His Children’s Peace (past the goal, fundraiser is still open)

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Rescue Mahmoud's Family: A Call to Escape Gaza's Devastation (low on funds)

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This is Shadi's Paypal Link for Payments in USD (close to the goal)

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Save Maliha Family: Urgent Evacuation Fund (low on funds)

How to Buy E-Sims (they help maintain internet connection abroad for a period of days)

Post on Brazil's Climate Crisis (with donation links you can check out)

Care.org Sudan

Rescue.org Congo

Hope for Haiti

CAMME - Helping Children of the Congo

Care For Gaza (Sabrine is raising funds on behalf of the organization, which you can find on twitter)

Ways to Take Action for the Uyghurs

Masterpost of fundraisers for women in conflict

Forgotten Women (aid group by women and for women in crisis, has options for Afganistan, Gaza and Yemen)

One Million Sustainable Pads Campaign

On Inner Mongolia (not a fundraiser, an information post)

Learn for Artsakh (not a fundraiser)

Human Rights in West Papua (not a fundraiser)

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[amaianita]

trying to figure out how there are so many specifically Filipino gay couples coming to our hotel. in armenia. is there like a travel agency. they're great guests im just. fascinated

[yanderesimp2000]

asmodues x Gender neutral grumpy reader healthy relationship wednesday part 1

writing this in a Starbucks I have better internet since I moved from aleverdi Armenia (my shithole hometown) to Baku Azerbaijan (much better) so uploads gonna come faster so I'm starting a new series called healthy relation ship wednesday its just like it sounds LMAO. this story is very fluff related unlike my more toxic and usual uploads so if you don't like yandere stuff I would recommend this new series

ALSO IM DOING A LOTTERY I WILL RANDOMLY PICK A FOLLOWER BY USING A RANDOM NUMBER GENERATOR AND SCROLLING THAT NUMBER OF TIMES SO IF YOU WANNA ENTER FOLLOW PREEXISTING FOLLOWERS ARE ALREADY INCLUDED DEADLINE IS OCT 18TH 2024

START OF STORY

You were asmodeus secret partner relationships between lower ranking demon like you and a sin were unacceptable. today you were just waking up after he fucked your brains out he was already up doing something on his computer. he looked up from his computer and spotted you he smiled at you "well good morning to you, sleeping beauty." he joked with a small chuckle, and then he stood up and approached you "how was your night hm?" you groan and say "good I guess" he leaned towards to you, resting his hand on your waist and gently pulling you closer to him “really hm? you only sound half awake.” he chuckled once more, gently poking fun at you now he placed a finger beneath your chin and tilted it up so that you were looking at him, he smirked slightly. "it looks like you need some waking up then, doesn’t it?~” you groan and yawn and then say "Fine" asmodeus chuckles "there's that beautiful enthusiasm i was waiting for~" he teased with a smirk, gently gripping your waist once more and pulling you closer to him, his hand rested against your hip now as he loomed over you, his form completely enveloping yours. he leaned down and placed his head in the crook of your neck, gently pressing his lips against your skin and peppering gentle kisses along your neck "you're so cute when you can barely keep your eyes open.~" he continued peppering kisses against your neck, his warm breath fanning against your skin as his lips travelled along your sensitive areas. his arm wrapped around your waist to pull you even closer to him, his hand resting against the small of your back as he held you tightly to him. you lightly squirm in annoyance he chuckled against your neck, his arm holding you tightly as he continued to pepper kisses against it, "what's wrong? you're not enjoying my affectionate morning greeting huh?~" he teased in a playful tone, his lips gently nipping and sucking at your skin.

"I'm tireddddddddddd" you say annoyed he pulled back slightly and chuckled at your response, finding it both adorable and amusing. "is that so? you poor thing..” he teased, gently running his thumb along your hip as he smirked at you, “did i keep you up too much last night?~” he teases "oh fuck off" you say he chuckled once more, finding your grumpy and sleepy demeanor incredibly adorable. "oh, someone's in a grumpy mood~" he teased, his hand sliding up from your hip to gently rest against your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. "i suppose i was a little rough last night, huh?~” he let out a small laugh as he continued to tease you, “oh come on, don’t get mad at me. you loved it last night as i remember~” he smirked, enjoying your grumpy demeanor and he gently pinched your cheek playful. you just glare at him he chuckled at your adorable glare, finding it impossible to take you seriously when you looked so adorable while glaring at him. "aww, look at that cute angry face you're making at me, i could just eat you up~” he teased as he continued to pinch your cheek affectionately. you snarl and try to keep your eyes open he chuckled again as he saw you trying to stay awake and maintain your angry glare, finding your stubbornness quite endearing. he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against your forehead, "you're so feisty when you're tired, you know that?~" he teased, his arm around your waist holding you firmly to him. "im sorry I'm just really tired" you say he chuckled once more, seeing the drastic change from your grumpy demeanor to your apology. he smiled and gently cupped your face in his hand, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "it's alright, i know you're tired. i was only teasing you a bit, i couldn't help myself when you look so cute when you're all grumpy~"

he paused for a moment and then smiled at you, "how about you go back to sleep for a little while, hm? i'll let you get some more sleep." he said, gently caressing your cheek once more before letting go and stepping back slightly. "no I don't like sleeping alone and you have work to do" you say he chuckled at your response, finding it both endearing and a bit clingy, but he certainly wasn't complaining. he stepped closer to you once more, gently tracing his fingers along your jawline. “are you sure you're not just saying that because you want me to stay in bed with you, darling?” he teased with a slight smirk, his arm wrapping around your waist once more and pulling you closer against him. "n-no" you say embarrassed a smirk tugged at his lips as he saw your embarrassed expression, finding your response both cute and amusing. "oh really? you sure about that?~" he teased, gently poking fun at you as he playfully pressed his forehead against yours. he continued to hold you against him, his hand gently tracing along your lower back as he spoke. "if i didn't know any better, i'd say you're just being a clingy little thing because you want me all to yourself hm?~” he teased, his voice dropping to a low, playful whisper. he chuckled quietly as he watched your embarrassed expression, enjoying the way you got so flustered at his teasing. he gently lifted your chin up with his fingers, making you look at him as he continued to smirk at you. "you're blushing, darling. i'm guessing that means i'm right, hm?~” he teased, his voice low and playful as he spoke. "stop teasing" you say annoyed he chuckled at your response, finding your annoyed expression adorable. "aww come on, you know i can't help myself. you're just too fun to tease~" he teased with a smirk, gently poking your nose with his finger in a playful manner. "y'know if you ask nicely I'll lay down with you" he says playfully he pulled you closer against him once more, his arm wrapped around your waist as he spoke, "do you need me to hold you in my arms so you can go back to sleep, hmm?~" he teased, his tone playful and suggestive. "yes" you say defeated

he chuckled at your defeated response, finding it adorable how quickly you caved in. he held you against him firmly, gently caressing his hand along your lower back as he spoke, "see, that wasn't so hard was it?~"

he then began guiding you back to the bed, his movements careful and gentle as he led you along. he reached the bed and gently eased you onto the soft mattress, following you down and laying beside you, his arm still wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. he chuckled quietly and whispered in a low, gentle voice, "you always get so clingy and whiny when you're tired, you know that?~" he pulled you closer until you were pressed against his chest, enveloping your smaller form with his larger one. he gently caressed your back as he spoke, his hand rubbing gentle circles along your bare skin. "you look so cute when you're needy like this, all whiny and clingy for my attention~" you start falling asleep now that he's cuddling you he smiled softly as he felt you gradually start to fall asleep in his arms. he pulled you even closer against him, holding you in a tight and secure embrace as he gently caressed your back. he whispered in a gentle, soothing voice, "shhh, it's okay. just relax and sleep darling. I'll hold you while you rest~" you then give in and fall asleep he smiled as he felt your body relax against his, your eyes slowly fluttering closed as you drifted off to sleep in his arms. he held you tightly against him, his arm wrapped around your waist as he gently caressed your back with his fingers. he whispered softly, "there you go, darling. get all the rest you need. I'll be here when you wake up, I won't let go of you.~"

THE END

REMEBER TO FOLLOW IF YOU HAVENT TO ENTER A FREE COMMISSION RAFFLE THERE WILL BE 3 WINNERS AND THE DEAD LINE IS OCT 18TH 2024

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

OC First and Last Line Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @willtheweaver! :D

Rules: Post the first and most recent/last line of dialogue from a couple of OCs. I'll do this for Alec and Davit from Silver Glass/Now Comes the Night (I've retitled this WIP. Now how do I refer to it without confusing myself and everyone else? 🤷‍♀️):

Alec, first:

"Mrs. Skinner, please inform Mrs. Lennox that she may invite her friend to stay for as long as she likes."

Davit, first:

"Am I to pack my bags?"

Alec, last:

"I have nothing to forgive, and Gwladys isn't here. We can travel. Go to Armenia, like you wanted to. Forget her. Forget all of this. And… recover. From what she did to both of us."

Davit, last:

"All right."

Tagging @radiowrites, @eccaiia, @zmwrites, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

[kyriat-sims]

If you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog!

Thank you @taanoir for sending the ask! I think I'm a bit of a bore actually, but here are some facts about me that you probably didn't know (or maybe you did know?):

I hated history in elementary school. Strange, isn't it, since I'm now a dedicated history-lover, both when playing Sims and otherwise. But back in the 60s, history lessons mostly consisted of battles and kings, and I still don't care about that. However, I love learning about people's (and especially women's) everyday life - what they ate, how they dressed, what diseases and other challenges they had, beliefs and superstitions, ceremonies and symbols. That is history to me!

I love traveling, but I've never been to been anywhere in America or Asia. I have been a few times in Africa, and to most European countries. At the top of my list of un-visited countries is Portugal and Poland. I also have a dream to visit Libanon, Jordan, Palestine, Israel and Syria. But with this shitty war going on it will probably stay just a dream in the near future. But maybe Armenia, Georgia and Azerbaijan would be possible to visit instead? Anyway, traveling also includes dreaming and planning, right?

I've always been interested in motors, mechanics and computers, and actually published my first internet-site in the early 90s, when the world wide web was still new and innocent. In the beginning it was more about understanding the technology, but eventually the content became more important. No, it was not about the Sims (since it didn't exist yet 😉), but a kind of travel blog to Greece, with tips and tricks, do and don'ts, Greek language and culture. It doesn't exist anymore, but I had a lot of fun with it, and learned a lot of useful stuff, like basic HTML, photo editing and different kinds of CMSs. And I'm still learning! (Although slower now).

[mariacallous]

Meduza's The Beet: Starting from scratch in Armenia

Hello, and welcome back to The Beet! 

I’m Eilish Hart, the editor of this weekly dispatch from Meduza that brings you underreported stories from across Central and Eastern Europe, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. If some kind soul forwarded this email to you, sign up here to receive future issues straight from the source. (And be sure to check out last week’s report on the uncertain fate of Georgia’s endangered languages.) Subscribers get access to all our features first — but we’re not asking you to be a gatekeeper. Quite the opposite: Tell your friends to subscribe to The Beet, too! 

This week, we’re returning to the South Caucasus to follow up on our coverage of the fall of Artsakh, the erstwhile breakaway republic in Nagorno-Karabakh. After more than three decades of bloody conflict that included two full-scale wars (fought from 1988–1994 and in 2020), Azerbaijan launched a blitz offensive on September 19–20 that forced the surrender of the separatist government and its army. Following Stepanakert’s capitulation, Baku finally lifted the Lachin Corridor blockade, opening the only road connecting Nagorno-Karabakh to Armenia after nine long months. Fearing reprisals at the hands of Azerbaijani forces, Karabakh’s predominantly ethnic Armenian population began fleeing the region en masse. Cars and buses packed with people and what few possessions they could carry formed traffic jams that lasted days on end. By October 1, Armenia had taken in more than 100,000 displaced people — nearly the entire population of Nagorno-Karabakh. 

For many Karabakh Armenians, this was not their first evacuation from the region. But with Azerbaijan in full control of Nagorno-Karabakh, it seems unlikely that they will return. With this in mind, the Armenian government has rolled out financial assistance and is offering a “temporary protection status” for the displaced, as well as the prospect of full citizenship (a rude awakening for the many Karabakh Armenians who have long held Republic of Armenia passports but didn’t realize they were only good for international travel). In the meantime, many displaced families struggle to find adequate housing and make ends meet. For The Beet, Yerevan-based journalist Sona Hovsepyan reports on how Karabakh refugees grapple with the difficult task of rebuilding their lives from scratch. 

‘We left everything’

Uprooted and jobless, Nagorno-Karabakh refugees start from scratch in Armenia

By Sona Hovsepyan 

“My six-year-old grandson woke up in the middle of the night and cried, ‘Grandpa, I want our home,’” Areg Mirzoyan recalled, breaking down in tears.

Mirzoyan’s family is originally from Arajadzor, a village in Nagorno-Karabakh. They are among the more than 100,000 ethnic Armenians rendered homeless and unemployed after Azerbaijan’s lightning offensive drove them from the disputed enclave in late September. Mirzoyan’s family settled in Malishka, a village 130 kilometers (80 miles) south of Yerevan, Armenia’s capital. Locals provided them with temporary housing: a single bedroom for a family of six.

“I never imagined it would turn out like this. I thought we would go back to our homes,” Mirzoyan told The Beet.

But nearly two months after the exodus, finding permanent accommodations and employment are now top priorities for former Nagorno-Karabakh residents. 

On October 17, during his speech to the European Parliament, Armenian Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan stated that Armenia had accepted 100,000 displaced people in the space of a week “without establishing refugee camps and tent settlements.” He also added that Armenia needs more international assistance, including financial support.

Earlier, Armenian Deputy Prime Minister Tigran Khachatryan reported that various governments and international organizations had donated more than 35 million euros ($37 million) in aid through the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC).  

Mirzoyan’s family members are struggling to find jobs in the village, where farming is the only occupation. His son, Amran, was a soldier in the Nagorno-Karabakh Defense Army, but he has yet to find work and does not plan to continue serving in the military. Mirzoyan and his wife, Sevil, are both retired but have yet to receive pensions from the Armenian government. 

In late October, the Armenian government announced that displaced Karabakh Armenians would be granted “temporary protection status.” Labor Minister Narek Mkrtchyan later clarified that refugees registered at an address in Armenia may also be eligible for pensions and other government benefits. However, those who take Armenian citizenship would forfeit the social support provided to refugees.

During the interview, 63-year-old Mirzoyan pointed to the clothes on his back — the only things he could save while fleeing his home during the Azerbaijani attack. 

The family left in a rush without taking additional clothing, money, or food with them. Mirzoyan’s three-year-old granddaughter, Alice, arrived in Armenia barefoot because her shoes were broken. Neighbors and volunteers in Malishka donated new clothes and other necessities for the children.

‘The stores in Artsakh were empty’

Mirzoyan recounted how his grandson, also named Areg, was astonished upon entering a grocery store in the Armenian border city of Goris, which was the first to receive displaced people from Nagorno-Karabakh.

“He said to me, ‘Grandpa, look at how many candies there are here.’ The stores in Artsakh were already empty, with literally nothing in any of them. The child was amazed,” said Mirzoyan.

In the nine months leading up to Azerbaijan’s September 19–20 attack, Nagorno-Karabakh was under a blockade. It began when Azerbaijani activists blocked the only road connecting Karabakh to the outside world: the Lachin Corridor, or “the road of life,” as Armenians call it. As access to food, medicines, and vital services dwindled, the region descended into a humanitarian crisis. 

On the eve of the Azerbaijani offensive, Nagorno-Karabakh’s human rights ombudsman, Gegham Stepanyan, told The Beet that the region was experiencing a “humanitarian catastrophe.” 

“Nagorno-Karabakh residents had no access to basic necessities such as food and healthcare during the blockade, nor the right to free movement,” said Mariam Muradyan, the children’s rights officer for the Caucasus at Global Campus of Human Rights. The blockade and subsequent exodus have had a huge impact on children from Nagorno-Karabakh, she added. 

“The government has to look at the individual demands of Karabakh refugees, which is a challenging process,” Muradyan said. The most important thing now, she continued, is that the Armenian government provides psychological help to displaced children and their families.

UNICEF-supported social workers reported in October that Nagorno-Karabakh’s displaced children — who number more than 30,000 — were showing “signs of severe psychological distress” and were at risk of deteriorating mental health unless they received immediate support. 

Mirzoyan said his grandson Areg remembers the recent fighting in Nagorno-Karabakh well; even weeks later, every loud noise makes the six-year-old jump out of his skin.

‘Everyone calls for peace, but nothing changes’

Despite everything they’ve been through, the Mirzoyan family still hopes to return to their homeland one day. However, they fear living under Azerbaijan’s control.“If we have the opportunity to go back, we will go back immediately, but we can’t live side by side with Azeris,” Mirzoyan said. 

After taking control of Nagorno-Karabakh in September, Baku presented a plan for reintegrating the region’s ethnic Armenian population. However, Human Rights Watch warned that Baku’s assertions are “difficult to accept at face value” given the months-long blockade of the enclave, decades of conflict, impunity for apparent war crimes, and Azerbaijan’s poor human rights record.

Seda Avanesyan, 69, fled Nagorno-Karabakh with her family on September 25 after Azerbaijan opened the Lachin Corridor. Initially, they stayed with relatives, but now they rent a house in Malishka. Avanesyan’s family members are willing to undertake any work to earn a living, but her daughter has yet to find a job. Her son-in-law, a soldier, plans to continue serving in the Armenian army. And her grandchildren, eight-year-old Anahit and 11-year-old Nare, have already started attending a local school.

Avanesyan, who is from Askeran, recalled a time when Karabakh Armenians used to interact with Azerbaijanis from a neighboring town. But now, she said, people find it difficult to trust the reintegration process.

“We had a good relationship during the Soviet Union; we used to communicate and trade with Azerbaijanis from Akna, but now it is not possible to live alongside each other,” she told The Beet. (Akna is the Armenian name for the town of Aghdam, which was left completely destroyed and deserted after the first Nagorno-Karabakh war. Yerevan ceded Aghdam to Azerbaijan under the ceasefire that ended the 2020 war.)

“We were hungry and thirsty for 10 months, but in the end, we hoped everything would be fine,” Avanesyan continued. “The opposite happened. Everyone calls for peace, but nothing changes.”

The ICRC reported that only a small number of Karabakh Armenians had chosen to stay in their homes as of mid-October, while others had been unable to leave the region. According to Red Cross teams, some of these people required medical help, food and water, or assistance securing transportation out of Nagorno-Karabakh. 

Earlier, a U.N. mission estimated that between 50 and 1,000 ethnic Armenians remained in the region.

‘We don’t have another option’

Emma Baghdasaryan, a 20-year-old student living in the town of Armavir in the west of Armenia, assisted displaced families in the aftermath of Azerbaijan’s September offensive and throughout the 2020 war. She volunteers with the Armavir Development Center, a non-profit organization providing the displaced with food, blankets, and sanitary items.

“Volunteering is a form of patriotism for me. I don’t have extra money to help families. It’s the only thing I can do for Artsakh’s people,” Baghdasaryan explained. “I believe that families from Artsakh simply need warmth, understanding, and appreciation.”

According to Naira Arakelyan, executive director of the Armavir Development Center, there is still an urgent need for volunteers. Arakelyan also emphasized that many Karabakh refugees are living in poor conditions. 

“Karabakh Armenians need social and psychological support; everyone is under immense stress right now. The living conditions in the temporary housing that people have rented are terrible,” Arakelyan told The Beet. “There are no beds, refrigerators, washing machines, or other necessary items in most of the apartments.” 

Andranik Aloyan, 44,fled Nagorno-Karabakh along with his pregnant wife, two small children, and 71-year-old father. Their journey from the town of Martuni to Armenia took an exhausting three days; at night, the family slept in their car. 

“We didn’t have bread after September 19. My children had nothing to eat for [a] few days. My wife was pregnant, and, in that condition, we left everything and fled to Armenia,” Aloyan said.

This marked the family’s second flight from Nagorno-Karabakh: they previously fled the region during the 2020 war. In the months before the exodus, the family experienced constant fear and anxiety due to the blockade, Aloyan recalled. His wife, Hasmik Antonyan, lacked access to vitamins and basic healthcare throughout her pregnancy, causing a delay in her childbirth. She was then hospitalized on September 19, during the Azerbaijani attack. She eventually gave birth to their son after the family reached Armenia.

Today, Aloyan and his family live in the village of Getap in Armenia’s Vayots Dzor province, a two-hour drive from Yerevan. Their new house, which they are renting, is unsuitable for winter. Some of the windows are broken, and the gas and water supply lines need to be replaced before the colder weather comes, Aloyan said. “The house is in terrible condition; it’s very damp. We are cleaning it so that we can move in. Right now, we don’t have another option,” he explained. 

On November 13, Aloyan told The Beet that, so far, only he had received a support payment from the Armenian government, which has promised to provide each displaced person with a one-time payment equal to $250 and an additional $125 per month to cover rent and utility costs (for a period of six months). His wife, father, and children were still waiting to receive their respective payments, he said.

Aloyan was a soldier in Nagorno-Karabakh and is still looking for a new job. His son and daughter have yet to start kindergarten in Armenia. For now, their parents’ priority is readying the rental house for winter, and afterward, they will send the children to nursery school.

Having fled Nagorno-Karabakh for the second time in three years, the family has decided not to return. “No, we don’t want to go back. I am scared for my children,” said Aloyan. “We can’t live there anymore.” 

[notwiselybuttoowell]

The world has just seen an end to centuries of Armenian existence in Nagorno-Karabakh. All ethnic Armenians have left the disputed region, travelling in a caravan of cars over the border to Armenia. The Armenian children now displaced will hate the Azerbaijanis, just as I once hated the Armenians for what they did to me. I was a victim of the first Nagorno-Karabakh war in the 1990s, when it was Armenia that was victorious, and it ethnically cleansed all Azerbaijanis from its lands. I am speaking out, hoping to be a small pebble, lodged in this endless cycle of violence.

Before the first war, inside Azerbaijan’s borders there existed the “Nagorno-Karabakh autonomous oblast”, a majority-Armenian island, so to speak, of mountainous land, with the culturally significant, majority-Azerbaijani citadel Shusha right in the middle. Concentric circles of alternating ethnicities radiated outward from Shusha; Azerbaijanis surrounded by Armenians surrounded by Azerbaijanis and Azerbaijani Kurds and so on – a great inconvenience for emerging nationalist narratives. Being Armenian and Azerbaijani became oppositional and mutually exclusive. Neighbour went against neighbour, and eventually state against state, with their armies wreaking havoc on the other.

During that war my first childhood memories were formed. I remember walking down a dirt road in my father’s village at dusk when the sky suddenly turned bright as day – bullets flying above my head. I remember attending the burial of my 18-year-old uncle, and being scared of the graveyard, where the eyes of the dead stared at me from pictures on their gravestones. He had been drafted into the war and had died there. I came to understand from the adults’ conversations that he had stepped on a landmine and had his legs blown off. He had then shot himself in the temple before his friends could get to him to stop him.

My mother’s family, Azerbaijani Kurds, hailed from the mountainous district of Lachin. I was told we had a big, beautiful house there, with many windows. My mother fondly remembered how my great-grandmother would take her on horseback up the rugged cliffs. It felt like flying, she would say. Armenian forces ended our ancestral existence there, ethnically cleansing everyone who was not Armenian. I never saw our house, never got to fly on horseback, and never saw Lachin, except in the news with its new Armenian name, “Berdzor”.

In school, I learned that the Armenians were villains responsible for all our tragedies; this was not hard to believe given what my family had been through. The Russian empire, we were taught, had transported them into our country as a loyal Christian population from Iran after the conclusion of the Russo-Persian wars in 1828. We learned that the Armenians were conniving tricksters never to be trusted. On TV, I heard Armenians described as “the abominable enemy” and “vandals”. The horrifying pogroms Azerbaijanis committed against the Armenians in our major cities were denied, minimised or explained away as being organised by the Armenians to make themselves look like victims, garner international sympathy and justify starting a war of occupation. The ethnic cleansing of Armenians by Azerbaijani and Soviet troops during the infamous events of 1991 was never even mentioned. Nor did we ever hear about the wilful and systematic destruction of Armenian heritage in Azerbaijan.

I have since come to learn that the Armenians were fed the same types of messages about the Azerbaijanis. We were labelled “Turks”, with obvious traumatic associations with the Armenian genocide, which made us guilty for a crime in another land by another people. The cultural, religious and linguistic differences between the Caucasian Azerbaijanis and Anatolian Turks, who had in fact fought wars with each other, did not concern the Armenian nationalists. We were nothing but barbarian invaders from central Asia with no history and no culture.

After our horrible fate in the 1990s, hatred seized Azerbaijan, and destroyed us. The current president, Ilham Aliyev, took power in 2003 and curtailed free speech, with the notable exception of hate speech against the Armenians. An Azerbaijani is always welcome to hate the Armenians a little more and to blame them for all our problems. The first family has been accused of benefiting from state contracts and business deals; Aliyev has even benefited from the plight of those in Karabakh, using our suffering to legitimise his endless repressions.

Aliyev would have you believe that the Armenians are leaving Nagorno-Karabakh of their own free will – a lie. The Armenians know well what sorry destiny awaits them if they stay. This process is, of course, ethnic cleansing.

I left Azerbaijan 15 years ago, displaced this time not by the Armenians but by the cruelty of those who were supposed to love me and protect me. I fled domestic violence after my father tried to kill me for being gay, and there was no person or institution in Azerbaijan that could protect me. I am as displaced as a person could be, and, through my words here, I may never be able to visit Azerbaijan again for fear of persecution. But I am compelled by my conscience.

I want Armenian children being forcefully displaced from their homes to hear the words that would have once meant everything to me: I am sorry we failed you. One day, when you understand what happened to you, hatred will start to drip into your heart, and you will want to seek vengeance. In that moment, take my outstretched hand and let me guide you back to our shared humanity. For the only true “us” and “them” lies between the perpetrators of violence, and those who reject it.

[hauntedhookah]

travel notes

Athens: Athens was not incredibly memorable. I thought of it as a city to live in. 

Naxos: in naxos my hair was curly again, i wore a 2 piece los angeles apparel set and walked around an infuencer's backdrop for 5-10 minutes at a time. i met mormon and canadian assorted girls on the beach, i followed one of them to the top of the hill at the windiest sunset since Albany Bulb winters. in another part of naxos i visited a bustling beachside bar alone one night after a martini at a neighboring beachside restaurant. the bartender was curious about how alone i was, he liked me. i, drunk, was likeable in my giant skirt and silk blouse. i left silently

Santorini: Santorini was an existential crisis. The room I stayed in during the last two days was Peace embodied. Not much else mattered, and the window view of the caldera from the mezannine cannot be captured in any photograph

Crete: in crete i waded through the thigh-deep water, my silver canon tied firmly around my wrist. i marveled at the quite silence of the hotel, at night i went out to sit in the sand. i swam in crete, i sat and read deborah adele's book in crete. i felt lonely and utterly bored in crete. i loved that everyone was allowed to look the way they wanted as they walked aimlessly from one end of the beach to the other-- no one was hiding anything from sight. no body was unwelcome, all bodies were represented. most were burned, even mine got close. in crete we remembered my grandfather and dreamed up the paths he took through the island. in crete we traveled to the pink sand beach, where i hope to have learned a valuable lesson about Wanting What You Don't Have, and Replacing A Feeling of Lack with An Object.

Austria: in Austria we stayed at a hotel with a winding staircase and ate a continental breakfast in that odd room, hushed voices and european stares. Though I care not for the history, for the first time since the start of the trip, I felt good. I felt open to new experience and full of wonder. i kept repeating to myself over the smallest novelties, "fascinating", and stepped out of the smoke-filled echo chamber of the hotel alleyway every day with a sense of calm preparedness. We walked to a big gothic church and that was beautiful, I'll admit. The gargoyles looked friendly against blue sky and in sunlight. 

Armenia: in armenia one of the first nights i spoke to a million people at the new trendy russian bar, of course after harassing the russian bartenders for not speaking armenian. first dea and aleen, then kristik's group of russian repats, then the diaspora mix at the round table and later still walking towards polygraph with Mushegh and his talkative friend who's name i forgot.  it was a marvelous night of speaking in all languages, i enjoyed it very much after weeks of no social interaction. another one of those nights we visited an exhibit in an underground stone cave, spoke to a kind man nextdoor about the power of diaspora contribution to armenia and he gifted us handmade soap. we met kristik's friends on Cascade around midnight and i learned so many different armenian folk dances. we danced around the fountain until we were sweating and tired at 3am, it was marvelous. many full, endless nights full of conversation. so much more social than anything in the US

Georgia: in georgia i disliked the folks. on the second day I walked up the hill, stopping for 2 individual khinkali, and heading up through the forest to the waterfall. I climbed down again, now through sulfur smelling rivers to the baths. I decided to head home as my phone died and stopped by the first place i see to charge it in order to get home-- a little wine bar. I end up staying there from 8pm-3am with ilia, one of the bar's founders. we talked about everything, he had armenian words and when i tried to pronounce georgian ones he was impressed. i haven't had that much wine possibly ever. what a lovely way to get drunk. and what a lovely way to realize after days of lonliness that connection is always out there, especially when you seek it the least. 

[mynameis-noe-body]

Professor Severus Snape × Original Female Character

Summary:

Licorice Hatch has traveled the world, fulfilling her dream of becoming one of the most famous writers and reporters in the Wizarding World. Now, she is coming back. Merlin only knows the turmoil she has caused in the heart of her dark, splendid professor. And at the very thought — eager to hold her in his arms again — Severus can't help but relive their whole story, from the very beginning, when it all started with a Wilbur Smith's book and... a two-month detention!

Or — OC was a Slytherin student, but through the years her relationship with professor Snape developed from a platonic friendship to true love. AU - no Second Wizarding War & start from the 4th Year.

Warnings: None (no underage relationship)

Rating: Mature

Status: Complete

Here the first chapter.

▪️▪️▪️

Five years.

One hundred and fifty letters exchanged.

About three hundred stamps, including those for priority and international mail. Ireland, Netherlands, France, Germany, Portugal, Italy, Spain and the Canary Islands, Bulgaria, Macedonia, Turkey, Armenia, Egypt, Cape Verde, the island of Cyprus, Morocco, and back north to Norway and the Svalbard Islands — yes, he had read them all.

And he had kept all the dozens — dozens, dozens — of photographs, tickets, newspaper clippings, pamphlets and so on and so forth; he had had to empty a trunk to put everything away.

Severus had never considered himself a sentimental man, yet he'd never allow any of his old friends to cross the threshold of his study only to discover the inkblots on the scribbled parchment, signed with his first name and, on top on the page, that usual «My dear Licorice». My dear — it had become ridiculous how he had found himself waiting for her letter, punctual every two weeks for five years, coming from all over Europe and beyond.

Severus knotted his tie glancing at the invitation, opened on the table in front of the fireplace. It was going to be a formal event, the Quibbler's twentieth birthday, the Lovegood's magazine; it had been unexpected, she hadn't warned him of the precedence of her return to England. A flush of heat tinted lightly his cheeks red, and he found himself berating — an old fool, that's who he was. Fortunately, Albus was no longer there to tease his idiosyncrasies.

Severus closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and grabbed the card with the typical annoyance that had accompanied him for a lifetime; the flames in the fireplace trembled and the Headmistress shrill voice called to him. "Are you ready? I'm going now with Filius but I very much hope you want to join us, Severus."

He nodded. "I'll be there, Minerva."

The flame vanished with a puff of ash. His hand hesitated over the jar of Floo Powder. Another mirror check, just to make sure the knot is neat. Severus had never considered himself a vain man — good Merlin, no, no. He had never found anything particularly interesting in his physical appearance of him. Nothing worth paying attention to more than the five minutes it took to brush his teeth twice a day and shave three times a week. Yet now that he was wearing a new midnight blue suit (and had combed his hair, had shaved even though it didn't seem necessary, and had tried — unsuccessfully — to choose a perfume) he felt decidedly uncomfortable. He cursed the girl, again. Severus squeezed the invitation in his pocket thinking he would give up, but the very idea of missing this opportunity made him miserable. You won a war, get some self-love good God. And with a final flash of resolution, Severus grabbed the Floo, stepped into the chimney, and traveled to the Quibbler's London headquarters.

—————

It was a warm evening on the rooftops of London. From that terrace lit in purple and gold one could admire the whole city; the artificial lights of the Muggle streets were magically extinguished under the transparent dome that hid them from prying eyes, and entire constellations unfolded in the sky like a mantle of precious stones set in velvet. Severus avoided the crowd. Minerva had dragged him here — to congratulate the Lovegood family, and to rejoin old friends from Hogwarts — and there — to shake hands with the members of the Ministry who had been invited; it had been forty-five unbearable minutes of intercourse and pointless chatter, with the one exception of Luna Lovegood — surprisingly. The girl had always had an aura of genius around her, from a certain point of view, and the newspaper had achieved new popularity in the wizarding world thanks to her.

She approached him — saving him from the gang of little journalists who were hoping to extort him who knows what interview - and offered him wine. "I knew you were coming, Mr. Snape" Luna affirmed with a dreamlike smile. "Although I also know that you aren't particularly interested in the company of the other guests, nor in mine." Severus nodded, without adding anything. "Have you met Licorice yet? She is very impatient to meet you, but they keep interrupting. So rude, isn't it?"

"Is she?" he asked, sounding more interested than he wanted. Too many years had passed, it was unlikely to be true — even though he didn't remember Miss Lovegood having ever lied in her entire career.

She brightened up. "It will be a splendid reunion, yours. This evening is surprisingly devoid of nargles, there is a very positive energy." And then she began to tell about the latest edition of the Quibbler which was to be published the following week; she revealed the titles of the articles to him in advance, and only at the end did she promise she would find Miss Hatch for him.

"There is no rush, Miss Lovegood. I'm sure Miss Hatch will have other impediments to deal with at the moment."

Luna shook her head. "Nonsense, she has done nothing but ask about you since she came back" and with these words she disappeared.

He sighed, keeping himself from brooding too much. The glass of Syrah in his hand was infinitely more attractive than his thoughts. However, hiding behind the shimmering crystal of his goblet hadn't been enough to escape Mr. Potter; the boy had grown up, undoubtedly, and if he were really interested about him the wedding ring on his left hand would have had a strange effect, but Severus had seen many students grow up, become adults and start their own lives over the course of nearly twenty years of teaching. It wasn't new.

Harry approached with an outstretched hand and a friendly smile. "I'm glad to see you here, professor. It's been a while."

Severus returned the gesture. "Since Granger and Weasley's wedding. And I don't have to remind you that I'm no longer a Hogwarts professor, do I Potter?"

"No sir. The Devon is good for your health, you look good."

Severus nodded. The boy — that young man — at least seemed as uncomfortable as he was. For some reason Harry had never stopped insisting; letters, invitations, Christmas cards. He never answered. "And how is Mrs. Potter? I haven't seen her yet."

"Oh no," Harry replied, with a smile "Ginny stayed home, the pregnancy is starting to be tiring and she needs rest." So they exchanged a few more words: Harry was excited about becoming a father, told him about their new home near the Burrow and how Hermione and Ron had preferred to move to London for the time being, and had the decency not to ask him many personal questions. When he confessed he had read his publications on Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, Severus rolled his eyes and didn't even try to look flattered. His gaze ran bored over the crowd as the boy continued to speak.

"...another drink?" Potter asked.

The terrace slowly emptied as the remaining couples moved to the center. The speeches of thanks had stopped, light classical music floated in the air; Severus knew it was time to move and accepted another glass of wine with a defeated sigh. The bar was packed with people, many crowded in line for yet another cocktail and it was the perfect — terrifing — opportunity to reconnect with old, unpleasant acquaintances.

Harry raised his hand and greeted someone. Obviously, Severus thought. Two pairs of eyes turned towards them: Sirius Black approached, clutching a Campari with ice in his hand and accompanying a young, beautiful woman beside him. Snape was sure he hadn't seen her before; she wore a long black dress with two dizzying slits showing her tanned legs. When Sirius hugged Harry, she smiled at him.

"Ah, Snape" Black commented. His small black eyes giggled, studying the unusual blue suit - which actually fit him perfectly. "I heard you moved to the country side. How's life in the middle of nowhere?"

Severus didn't even waste the breath he needed to snort. "Torquay is hardly the middle of nowhere, Black — if I were you I'd think before I utter even a single word."

Harry had to intervene, for the umpteenth time, trying to avoid the nascent discussion and turned his attention to the music, commenting on the lovely evening that Luna had organized. Sirius nodded. "You are absolutely right, Harry. Dearest," Black turned to the young woman, showing off his best smile "would you like to dance?"

She grinned, a light of resolve illuminated her gaze. "Indeed yes" she replied, but she refused Sirius's hand when he offered it. "I would very much like to dance with you, professor Snape."

Sirius gasped, shocked. Snape smirked.

Oh, Severus wouldn't have let an opportunity like that pass by; rarely — perhaps never — such a beautiful woman would have preferred his hand to Black's, and now he could enjoy this little revenge. He slipped his hand down the woman's back, touching the bare skin with his fingertips to the hem of her dress, and led her onto the dance floor giving Balck one last defiant look. Then, finally, he moved his eyes to that lovely creature.

She was young, much younger than him. And she was smiling, still. She wasn't hesitant, but her hand rested on his shoulder with reverence, so light he could barely feel her through his jacket.

"I must inform you" he said, "that I'm not a professor, not anymore. It's been five years."

She giggled and nodded, starting to swing in his arms. Someone had given them a few curious looks, but he pretended not to notice, as always. "Yes, I know" she replied. "How do you find the evening?"

He shrugged, looked around to glare at the newly weds Weasleys, and sighed. "Dreadful. Still, the wine was delicious."

"That's all?" the whispered question sounded more like a challenge, a playful provocation. "Only... the wine?"

She was delightful. She was warm, bright. Severus had learned not to ask himself why a pleasant thing could happen to him; he spun her around before taking her back into his arms, she laughed and it was a sweet sound. And she looked at him. Her eyes were greedy, as if she were eagerly trying to quench her curiosity, to steal all his attention and the more she smiled at him like that — completely enraptured — the more he forgot everything that was around them. Delicious, indeed.

"I would say my evening has definitely, if unexpectedly, improved" Severus replied. His eyes darted to Sirius for a moment, enjoying his palpable nervousness, and he smirked.

She shook her head. "Hmm, that's so unfair," she muttered, amused. Severus lost himself in her bewitched gaze, mesmerized by her. He didn't know what to think; he just held her a little closer to his chest. She smelled good, lovely — familiar and comforting, somehow. "You take pleasure in the little revenge against your enemy, yet you have a young, beautiful woman in the palm of your hands, literally." And it was true. The song had changed, but she didn't let go: she took his hand and did another pirouette, leaving him baffled as she came closer and put both hands behind his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. If he blushed, she didn't notice. "And you didn't even ask me my name, did you?"

Severus was ashamed. It was in his habit to be rude and intractable, but not in his nature to be so terribly distracted. His back suddenly stiffened, his gaze turned hard and stern, but she just giggled in amusement, shaking her head. "God — you haven't recognized me yet, have you? And I thought you were waiting for my return!"

Words echoed in his mind and memories. Severus paled imperceptibly. His fingers dug into the hips of the young woman in front of him and he pulled her away to look at her a little better; she blushed, guilty.

"Licorice Hatch" he breathed.

Her eyes were filled with tears, but she didn't cry. "Finally, Severus."

If you love this story, keep reading here & please consider following me. That would be deeply appreciated. Thank you. 🖤

[wolgraugorimilir]

I need to put my thoughts in order.

I had a very long, and ultimately very good, but nonetheless frustrating conversation with a friend about history. They knew quite a bit more about the last 400 years in Europe than I do and they wanted to tell me about what they knew.

Which was fun. But the theme of the conversation ultimately bent around hopelessness and the nature of humanity.

They wanted to talk about terrible things that people had done. Royal families. Fascism. Individual people who were responsible for terrifying inhuman depravity. And.

And they knew ~so much~ about the human capacity for violence and terror that I struggled to defend my conviction that ~mostly we just want things to be better for ourselves.~

I’m very interested in ancient history. And archeology. I’m subscribed to the antiquities journal which I’ve been tearing up for the last few months.

Mostly archeology news looks like this:

“A cemetery in a highland Tajik village was discovered to observe Islamic burial customs - carbon dated to c. 800s CE -”

Or

“A tomb in Armenia was discovered with an image of a procession of gods - dated to the 870s BCE based on carbon dating and a reference to Assurnasirpal II - figures identified as belonging to the local religion are depicted besides other figures from the Assyrian religious tradition”

BORING SHIT, RIGHT?? But the synthesis of a lot of boring information can let people make better judgements of what the past was like. And in these boring cases we don’t see much violence.

That village of medieval Tajiks seems to have adopted Islamic burial customs without terrifying bloody conflict. - there would have been evidence for this by way of damaged skeletons. - They seem to have been attracted by the wisdom of traveling Muslims, and they were willing to bring new information into their worldview.

And those Assyrian-Armenian artists were simply interested in the fashions and prestige associated with Assyrian courtly culture, and they wanted to depict their local gods belonging to that tradition.

AND ALMOST EVERY NEW ARCHEOLOGICAL DISCOVERY IS LIKE THIS.

Humble. Peaceful. Curious.

29 times out of 30, the material evidence for human activity is, like, a campfire. Or art. Or houses where there are toys and shoes.

But on the internet, that’s not interesting like violence.

My friend listens to podcasts that are about violence in history. Pretty much exclusively it seems.

And most people who are interested in history are similarly attracted to ~the craziest things that have happened~ because of course they are!! It’s more fun!! Ancient stories of heroism and war were popular for the same reason!! Everyone likes a good horror story to pull out from and shiver and say “gosh I can’t believe people ever lived like that”

But.

But there is so so much information on the internet.

You can immerse yourself in oceans of historic violence forever.

And when you do that. It seems like that’s what’s usual. Even though it’s not.

And this is how ALMOST EVERYONE seems to engage with history!!! To such an extant that whenever I suggest that humanity is not inherently depraved, and maybe we’re not doomed to maul ourselves into oblivion forever, most people are wholly dismissive, armed with a thousand case-studies in our worst behavior.

And it frustrates me so much !!!!! What on earth should I say? Should I explain how excited it makes me to see pictures of makeup from ancient Egypt? Plumbing in Chalcolithic Harappan cities? Animal-shaped Incan toys with wheels that look so cute and so fun for little kids to play with?

Almost everyone I know is trying to build a better life for their people. And it really seems like that’s what almost all of us have been trying to do for tens of thousands of years.

We just do it quietly, and I wish more people knew that. It’s hard enough out here.

[closetdbisexual]

RIO what did conan do in cuba. im always curious about how american media depicts it did it mention the revolution at all or skirt around it

he mentioned it at the start but kind of skirted around it , just a few comments about it and how it was difficult to travel there and a very brief history that didnt really say anything other than "there was a revolution" but he was mostly just like (in his own words) "just there with a simple goal [making friends]" . usually when he visits places with serious history he mentions it more (ghana and armenia come to mind because i just watched those) (armenia particularly because he went with sona to the memorial and it was very respectful) but in this one he didnt really talk about it

[airis-ray]

Know the blogger

I was tagged by @sealrock, ty for the tag! 💖 This simple questions unexpectedly made me think a lot 😀

Are you named after anyone? My mother just thought it was a beautiful name and would suit me well. She was right :)

2. When was the last time you cried? I'm not crying. Well, maybe only when Gandalf fell :) National feature. As they say in my homeland: "Tears cannot help with grief". I'm pretty sure that tears can help release bad emotions, but it's hard to change yourself.

3. Do you have kids? Yes, one

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Without sarcasm how to survive in this world?

5. What sports do you play/have you played? My favorite sport is lying on the couch with a book :) But I constantly think about yoga. Keeping lying on the couch, of course :)

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people? Smile. People are so beautiful when they smile. But usually I love listening to people more than looking at them. All the most interesting things lie inside.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy ending ofc! There are enough scary movies in life.

8. Any special talents? Optimism and desire to find beauty in everything around.

9. Where were you born? My homeland remained far in the north. I won't go back there. Now I live in beautiful and cordial Armenia and maybe here I will finally find my happy place. Who knows.

10. What are your hobbies? Video games, reading, history and from time to time I still try to learn how to draw. If I had the opportunity, I would like to make furniture or some things from wood. But I don't have a workshop :(

11. Do you have any pets? Not anymore

12. How tall are you? 173cm

13. Fave subject in school? Literature and history

14. Dream job? A dream job is no job at all :) Seriously, my dream job would be to help people. I would like to be a doctor or scientists and find a cure for cancer or dementia. Or I would like work on the possibility of interstellar travel to colonize other planets in space ... Yes, I'm a dreamer :) Unfortunately, none of my formations are suitable for this. I can only look into the past as a historian. Or look at minerals as a gemologist. A long time ago I could write about important things as a journalist, but no longer.

15. Eye colour? Brown

[kestrellady]

Reading Around the World Challenge

Read one book set in every country around the world

Ongoing Total: 49/195 Setting and Author: 34/195 Setting Only: 15/195

The StoryGraph Challenge Link

My guidelines for this challenge:

Books should be set primarily or entirely in that country. (No travelogues counting for multiple countries.)

Fiction is preferred, but memoirs are acceptable. No history books.

Magical Realism and Fantasy are acceptable, so long as the country is named and recognizable. (No high fantasy inspired by the country.)

Authors should be from that country, living there for a majority or large portion of their lives and closely identifying with the country.

Diaspora and descendant authors are on a case-by-case, with the above criteria in mind.

Please feel free to send me suggestions! I read primarily in English, but can also do intermediate Spanish, so I'm interested in adding some Spanish language books to the list. Let me know if you disagree with my characterization of any authors or have suggestions for an author from a particular country.

Full list under the cut.

Setting and Author

Afghanistan - The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini Not generally a fan of literary fiction, but I actually didn't hate this! A more hopeful ending than I expected.

Albania - The Ghost Rider by Ismail Kadare This did not end at all how I expected. A quick and fascinating read.

Algeria - The Stranger by Albert Camus & The Meursault Investigation by Kamel Daoud Interesting to read these two together, and glad to have the literary background, but not really my thing.

Angola - A General Theory of Oblivion by Jose Eduardo Agualusa, Trans. Daniel Hahn A bunch of intertwined stories centered around Angola's independence and the following decades. I'm not sure I would call this magical realism, but it kinda has that feel to it.

Antigua and Barbuda - A Small Place by Jamaica Kincaid Fascinating long essay that is a must read for tourists, particularly those traveling in the Caribbean.

Argentina - Mouthful of Birds by Samanta Schweblin Collection of horror and adjacent short stories.

Armenia - Three Apples Fell from the Sky by Narine Abgaryan, translated by Lisa C. Hayden A dying village on a mountain finds a reason to keep going. It's got that slight fairy/folktale feel to it that commonly gets called "magical realism."

Australia - The Things She's Seen by Ambelin and Ezekiel Kwaymullina Surprisingly sweet and wonderfully clever. Really enjoyed this one!

Cambodia - Music of the Ghosts by Vaddey Ratner This is a really lovely novel about healing after tragedy and finding your home again after it's been destroyed.

Colombia - Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez I preferred 100 Years of Solitude, but this is the novel more firmly set in Colombia.

Cuba - The Tower of the Antilles by Achy Obejas A volume of short stories exploring life in Cuba and in the US as an immigrant from Cuba. Not my favorite short story collection, but there were a couple that were really evocative.

France - The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas Read an abridgement that made me want to go back and read the unabridged version. Liked this better than The Three Musketeers.

Ghana - Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi Literary, but enjoyable! The back and forth twining of the storylines was used to really good effect.

India - A Suitable Boy by Vikram Seth This is billed as a romance, but don't believe it. It's long, the links between the storylines aren't always clear, and it's a "realistic" ending.

Ireland - Dubliners by James Joyce These are... meh? More like vignettes than short stories. And very "everyone is unhappy."

Italy - The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco This was really interesting! I feel like I need to read it again to really get all the twists and turns.

Japan - The Travelling Cat Chronicles by Hiro Arikawa This was so sweet! And bittersweet. Just generally lovely.

Kenya - Unbowed by Wangari Maathai An interesting memoir by a remarkable woman.

Malawi - The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind by William Kamkwamba and Bryan Meler A fascinating story of how ingenuity, persistence, and small changes can profoundly change a community.

Malaysia - The Ghost Bride by Yangsze Choo I really liked this one! A good spooky mystery with great fantasy/folklore elements.

Mexico - Mexican Gothic by Silvia Moreno-Garcia Loved this book! Great horror story.

Netherlands - The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank Important, but sad work.

New Zealand - Quiet in Her Bones by Nalini Singh Thriller filled with interesting if not always likeable characters and a somewhat unreliable narrator.

Nigeria - Noor by Nnedi Okorafor Not my favorite of Okorafor's works, but a fascinating near-future sci-fi.

Norway - Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset Not a happy story, but well written and engrossing, even at over a thousand pages.

Pakistan - Unmarriageable by Soniah Kamal A retelling of Pride and Prejudice set in Pakistan. I loved the way that Pakistani culture was woven through and enhanced the original plot and themes. A really good read!

Poland - Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk Interesting mystery if not ultimately quite my thing.

Russia - War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy Yes, I did read the unabridged version. Yes, you should definitely find the abridged version.

Rwanda - Our Lady of Kibeho by Immaculée Ilibagiza First hand accounts of a little known Marian apparition in Rwanda.

Singapore - Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan Enjoyed this and its sequels. Less a romance and more intertwined stories of a family dynasty.

Switzerland - Heidi by Johanna Spyri Classic children's novel.

Syria - The Map of Salt and Stars by Zeyn Joukhadar Sad and lyrical. A great exploration of the legends and towns of North Africa. (This one barely counts as mostly set in Syria.)

United Kingdom - Persuasion by Jane Austen Lots to choose from, but officially using my favorite Jane Austen.

United States of America - The House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne Weird story, beautiful prose.

Setting Only

Austria - The Star of Kazan by Eva Ibbotson Read this as a kid and remember really liking it. Should probably find one that I actually remember....

Canada - Hatchet by Gary Paulsen Very formative of my childhood, so I had to include it.

China - The Bonesetter's Daughter by Amy Tan I remember this being one of my favorite's of Amy Tan but not much more.

Cyprus - Othello by William Shakespeare Apparently this one counts? This play has good speeches but is not great for a modern audience.

Democratic Republic of the Congo - The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver Had to read this for class in high school and can't say I enjoyed it.

Egypt - River God by Wilbur Smith Definitely one of my favorites out of my Wilbur Smith phase.

Greece - The Magus by John Fowles Really weird book that's on the BBC Top 100 books for some reason?

Romania - Hunting Prince Dracula by Kerri Maiscalco Book 2 in this YA series with main characters and a romance I love.

Solomon Islands - Devil-Devil by Graeme Kent This was a really fun mystery that centers the clash of traditional, modern, and colonial societies.

South Africa - The Woman Next Door by Yewande Omotoso Fun little neighborhood drama.

South Korea - Wicked Fox by Kat Cho Really enjoyed this YA novel set in Seoul. Good fantasy and interesting moral dilemmas.

Vatican City - Angels and Demons by Dan Brown Easily my favorite Dan Brown. Though the sequels get a little off the rails. (Not sure anyone counts as a native of Vatican City?)

Vietnam - The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien Short stories inspired by the author's time in the Vietnam War.

Yemen - Don't Be Afraid of the Bullets by Laura Kasinof A budding journalist describes her experience in Yemen during the Arab Spring.

Zimbabwe - A Girl Named Disaster by Nancy Farmer Loved this book as a kid, it's one that really stuck with me over the years.

To Be Read

Andorra, Azerbaijan, The Bahamas, Bahrain, Bangladesh, Barbados, Belarus, Belgium, Belize, Benin, Bhutan, Bolivia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Botswana, Brazil, Brunei, Bulgaria, Burkina Faso, Burundi, Côte d'Ivoire, Cabo Verde, Cameroon, Central African Republic, Chad, Chile, Comoros, Costa Rica, Croatia, Czechia (Czech Republic), Denmark, Djibouti, Dominica, Dominican Republic, Ecuador, El Salvador, Equatorial Guinea, Eritrea, Estonia, Eswatini, Ethiopia, Fiji, Finland, Gabon, The Gambia, Georgia, Germany, Grenada, Guatemala, Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, Guyana, Haiti, Honduras, Hungary, Iceland, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Jamaica, Jordan, Kazakhstan, Kiribati, Kuwait, Kyrgyzstan, Laos, Latvia, Lebanon, Lesotho, Liberia, Libya, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Luxembourg, Madagascar, Maldives, Mali, Malta, Marshall Islands, Mauritania, Mauritius, Micronesia, Moldova, Monaco, Mongolia, Montenegro, Morocco, Mozambique, Myanmar, Namibia, Nauru, Nepal, Nicaragua, Niger, North Korea, North Macedonia, Oman, Palau, Palestine, Panama, Papua New Guinea, Paraguay, Peru, Philippines, Portugal, Qatar, Republic of the Congo, Saint Kitts and Nevis, Saint Lucia, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, Samoa, San Marino, São Tomé and Príncipe, Saudi Arabia, Senegal, Serbia, Seychelles, Sierra Leone, Slovakia, Slovenia, Somalia, South Sudan, Spain, Sri Lanka, Sudan, Suriname, Sweden, Tajikistan, Tanzania, Thailand, Timor-Leste, Togo, Tonga, Trinidad and Tobago, Tunisia, Turkey, Turkmenistan, Tuvalu, Uganda, Ukraine, United Arab Emirates, Uruguay, Uzbekistan, Vanuatu, Venezuela, Zambia

[aboutanancientenquiry]

Travels with Herodotus

“ The Observer  Ryszard Kapuściński

Review

Lessons of the Histories

In Travels with Herodotus, the late, great Polish writer Ryszard Kapuscinski weaves epic stories into his own reportage to stunning effect, says Stephen Smith

Stephen Smith

Sun 17 Jun 2007 00.41 BST

Travels with Herodotus by Ryszard Kapuscinski Allen Lane £20, pp275

With Agatha Christie, you know you're off and running when the first stiff turns up in the library, harbinger of a terrible body count. In the case of Ian McEwan, it's a hint of transgressive how's-your-father. Aficionados of Ryszard Kapuscinski, the late grandmaster of reportage, know to hug themselves in anticipation when the following conditions obtain: our man is the last European left in a sweltering hellhole, a wretched government is on its last legs and about to give way to packs of marauding goons and all contact with the outside world has been lost. This was the scene of the Polish writer and journalist's gripping Another Day of Life (1975). He was the only foreign correspondent in the Angolan capital, Luanda, as the Portuguese colonialists fled and rival militias closed in on the abandoned city. In his suffocating hotel, Kapuscinski sweats and frets, a Kafka of the tropics. If the book had been any more tightly wound, it would have turned back into wood pulp in your trembling fingers.

Open Kapuscinski's Imperium (1994), an account of his travels through the collapsing Soviet Union, and you may well be met with a passage like this one, describing the airport at Yerevan in Armenia as 'hundreds, thousands of people' awake to another day of waiting in vain for a seat on a plane, any plane. 'How long have they been sleeping here? Well, some not so long; this is only their first night. And those over there, the crumpled up, unshaven, unkempt ones? Those - a week. And those others one cannot even get closer to because they stink so terribly? Those - a month.'

Travels with Herodotus, which has been published in English following Kapuscinski's death earlier this year, will not disappoint his admirers. We are with the indefatigable reporter in Congo in 1960. 'There is no functioning radio station, no government. I am trying to get out of here - but how? The closest airport is closed. The roads (now in the rainy season) are swamped, the ship that once plied the River Congo has long ceased to do so.' Bliss! You know that by the time you finish Travels with Herodotus, you'll be shaking your own gnawed fingernails from its pages. Once again we have before us the strangely cheering image of the lonely news agency man from eastern Europe endlessly chastising himself for the gaps in his knowledge rather than giving himself credit for what he has learnt the hard way. As before, the roving reporter is bowed down beneath his own bodyweight in books, including the Histories of Herodotus, the ancient Greek who opened the young Kapuscinski's eyes to the world. The great traveller of antiquity, he says, was 'someone who always had many questions and was ready to wander thousands of kilometres to find an answer to any one of them'. Kapuscinski could be writing about himself, of course.

A much-travelled journeyman who came to book-writing in mid-career, Kapuscinski also invites comparison with fellow Pole Joseph Conrad and mention of the author of The Secret Agent leads us to the ticklish issue of Kapuscinski the spy. He was named as a former communist operative after his death. He had allegedly collaborated with the party in Poland in return for the rare licence he enjoyed to travel to the outside world - 'to cross the border', as he puts it. To which one can only say that if it is true, a 'deal' of this kind is what one would expect the authorities to have insisted on. What matters is how Kapuscinski observed his side of the bargain, and that was to publish The Emperor (1978). Ostensibly an account of Haile Selassie's court in Ethiopia and its hysterical feudalism, it was read in his native Poland as a mordant if samizdat commentary on matters closer to home.

Frankly, anyone who was paying attention will know the reporter's dispatches were the flimsiest cover for his 'product', as the spymasters call it. What was encrypted in them was Kapuscinski's humanity. Somehow, he crosses Ethiopia with a local driver who knows only two English expressions: 'Problem' and 'No problem'. How do the pair communicate? Kapuscinski relies on the 'tradecraft' of his own extraordinary empathy. 'Everything speaks; the expression of the face and eyes, the gestures of the hand and movements of the body ... dozens of other transmitters, amplifiers and mufflers which together make up an individual being.'

It may seem perverse to recommend Travels with Herodotus for the beach. But if you haven't encountered Kapuscinski before, you'll be pleasantly surprised by how much satisfaction, as well as salience, there is to be found in this perfect discomfort read.

· Stephen Smith is the culture correspondent of BBC Newsnight

Three to read

Reportage

Imperium by Ryszard Kapuscinski

The journalist's personal portrait of the life and death of the USSR, 1939 to 1991.

Dispatches by Michael Herr

Frontline reports from the madness and mayhem of the Vietnam War.

All the Wrong Places by James Fenton

Powerful examination of South East Asian politics, from the fall of Saigon to the Philippines under Marcos.”

Source: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2007/jun/17/travel.travelbooks

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Find the Vibe Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @mrbexwrites! :D

My vibe: "well, that could have been worse!". I couldn't find an excerpt that fit it, so this scene from Silver Glass is the closest I've got:

Davit went straight to his room after they returned home. Alec hadn't said a word to him on the journey. He didn't try to stop him. When he had planned to murder Gwladys he had never considered two things: actually committing the murder, and what happened after. He hadn't thought about how it felt to kill someone. He hadn't thought how Alec would react if he found out. Davit threw himself down on the bed and cried himself to sleep. He woke slowly. His head rested on something warm. Someone was stroking his hair. For a confusing moment he thought he was a child again and his mother was comforting him after a nightmare. Two realisations struck him in quick succession. One, his head was resting on someone's chest. Two, his head was resting on Alec's chest. Davit started up, then stopped. He met Alec's eyes. It was evening and the sun had set, so the remaining light gave everything a blue hue. Even so, he could tell that Alec wasn't looking at him with anger or disgust. Quite the opposite. "I've been thinking," Alec said calmly. Davit lay down again. He didn't think he could bear to look Alec in the face for this conversation. He laid his head on Alec's chest and listened to his heartbeat. Alec resumed stroking his hair. It was… nice. Gentle. Not at all what he should do to someone he knew was a murderer. What was going on here? Maybe Alec could forgive him, but Davit couldn't imagine him being willing to resume their relationship. Alec continued, "You of all people know how much I hated Gwladys." That was an odd beginning. Davit waited to hear where this was going. "She blackmailed me, she tormented me, she… Well, you know all about it. It sounds horrible but I'm glad she's dead. I can't even say I'm sorry she was murdered. All I regret is that you killed her." Davit tensed. Now for it: some variation on I want you to leave. Alec's breath hitched. Davit felt his heartbeat speed up. "Davit, do you understand? I'm sorry you killed her because… I don't know how to say it. I'm sorry for the effect it's had on you. If I could change the past I would stop you killing her to save you, not her." Were his ears playing tricks on him? Was Alec, Alec of all people, really saying what it sounded like he was saying? "But how can you…" Davit trailed off. He tried again. "Murder is illegal. And forbidden in the Bible." "I know." Alec's hand stilled. His fingers were still twined in Davit's hair. He was silent for a while. Davit waited with bated breath. He told himself not to hope, but hoped anyway. "I don't think this counts as murder. She would have killed me. That makes it… different." "Can you forgive me?" Davit whispered. "I have nothing to forgive, and Gwladys isn't here. We can travel. Go to Armenia, like you wanted to. Forget her. Forget all of this. And… recover. From what she did to both of us." Davit raised his head. He stared Alec in the eye. Even in the fading light he could see that Alec, impossible though it seemed, meant what he said. "All right," he said. Alec smiled at him. Davit smiled back. For the first time in months he began to think everything really would be all right.

Tagging @akindofmagictoo, @magic-is-something-we-create, @ashen-crest, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D Your vibe: "it cost how much?"

Adding Glass's taglist: @writingpotato07, @oh-no-another-idea, @sarahlizziewrites, @lightgriffinsect, @kittensartswriting, @acertainmoshke, @author-a-holmes, @sam-glade, @late-to-the-fandom (Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)