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😂

https://twitter.com/nerdist/status/1754906855183417656?t=qvtPF8LBfbHxBkrhgZEd1Q&s=19

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Taylor Zakhar Perez as Alex Claremont-Diaz — RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE (2023)

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Still laughing at Brian May offhandedly writing the greatest understatement in the history of academia in his astrophysics doctoral dissertation:

Ah, yes - “various pressures.” Like being one of the greatest guitarists ever and playing/writing/singing for the most legendary rock band of all time.

Those various pressures.

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Timothée Chalamet || 94th Academy Awards Ceremony

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Be like Pooh

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Remember to reblog the fics you read and like. It makes the hellsite a little better and keeps authors writing.

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ACLU South Dakota post

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Summary:

Did he know then, that Elio was already offering him a way out? Permission, almost, to preserve their perfect summer romance in amber. To pack his memories up in a neat little box until such times as he could look back and smile?

Shameless reblog because I've just had a lovely comment on this little series, and despite often forgetting that it exists, these fics are actually some of my favourites...

ETHEREAL

When he dreams he can hear the roar of the ocean. Smell the salt-tang of the waves that swirl between his bare toes. Feel the coarse sand whip at his reddened skin as the wind ruffles his hair. 

When he dreams, he can see him.

Elio.

His true self.

His sunlight in the shadows.

When he dreams, when he says I’ve been happy in B, he finishes his sentence the way he’d originally intended. 

I’ve been happy with you.

Did he know then, that Elio was already offering him a way out? Permission, almost, to preserve their perfect summer romance in amber. To pack his memories up in a neat little box until such times as he could look back and smile? 

Did Elio know himself it was an impossible task? 

That like Sisyphus, his upward struggle would be incessant?

So many wasted days. 

So many weeks, months, years spent grieving that which he’d deemed impossible.

You’ll be fine, he’d said in the moment, but when he dreams, it’s Elio who asks if he’ll be okay, and Oliver, knowing the truth deep down to his soul, who reaches out and cups his cheek, rests it there, unable to lie.

“I love you,” he says instead, thumb tracing light patterns over Elio’s evening stubble as trembling fingers rise up to capture his wrist.

His pulse races in his ears, Elio’s eyes a solemn promise when he parts his lips to speak. “I loved you, too," he says at length - always the past tense - and in doing so confirms the gentlest of nightmares are actually the cruellest.

“Elio,” he chokes out, threading his hand into those windswept curls to draw him closer, his other arm banding around his waist, hauling him into his lap. Three years may as well be yesterday in this maelstrom of emotion, and Oliver’s words fall woefully short of what he truly feels. What he’s always felt. Always will. “My Elio…”

Already, he can sense the illusion slipping away. Hear the sobs Elio doesn’t want him to see. Smell the train carriage as it waits to depart the station. Feel the lurch of turbulence as his heart breaks all over again.

But when he dreams, when his lips find Elio’s like a bee to nectar, the sweetness of his kiss freezes all other considerations on the landscape of his mind. A perfect Monet, he thinks, as Elio sighs the same plaintive sound he makes upon first stretching awake, opening his mouth to his. Soft and wet. His own personal manna in this self-imposed exodus. 

It’s not enough though - not nearly enough - and Oliver hugs him tighter until he can hear the gulls circling overhead. Feel the sun-warmed rock beneath the soles of his feet. Smell the peaches on Elio’s breath. Kisses him like a man starved until reality crashes back, squeezing his eyes shut until the very last second before whispering his own name between them.

Elio doesn’t get the chance to respond - he never does - and the bitter sting of tears stays with him long after the six o’clock alarm call.

#cmbyn fanfic #call me by my name #angst #elio x oliver

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too sleepy to elaborate at this time but I miss the old fandom culture of interacting with fanfic writers and fanfic artists as members of the fandom community who enjoyed engagement and discussion and feedback instead of the modern trend of seeing us as content creators up on a pedestal who don't need positive feedback but DO need to churn out constant content to feed the a03 machine

#God I miss livejournal #fandom

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"I really thought you hated me." "I hated how good you looked." — RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE (2023)

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I plan to live in this pic for the rest of the day

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Armie in Tyler’s IGstory ❤️