fvlsegcd - Tumblr blog

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smash or pass avila NO BEARD just socks on

❝ always locked and loaded for you , professor . ❞

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🗑️ samson and fitz ehe

tuesday , july 29th , 4:08 am .  [ fitz ] : i’m coming to dublin .  [ fitz ] : i don’t feel at home in my own skin without you .  [ fitz ] : so yeah , i guess i’ll be home soon .

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JACOB ELORDI in SALTBURN (2023)

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Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person.

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Send 🍸+ a question and my muse will answer while drunk.

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texting starters send a symbol for…

🌻 a worried text.

🐰 a goofy text.

🦋 a loving text.  

🧦 a half-asleep text.

🌳 a happy text.

🍎 an apologetic text.

⚠️ a text meant for someone else.

🕰️ an early morning text.

💫 a late night text.

🗑️ a text that wasn’t sent.

💡 a scared text.

💀 an urgent text.

🥇 a supportive text.

🔪 a hateful text. 

🌊 a sad text.

⚡ an angry text. 

🚀 a goodbye text.

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SEND 📞 + AN EMOJI BELOW FOR A VOICEMAIL MY MUSE LEFT FOR YOUR MUSE

😃 : a happy voicemail 

😍 : a loving voicemail

🤪 : a goofy voicemail

😞 : a disappointed voicemail

😔 : a sad voicemail

😟 : a worried voicemail

😠 : an angry voicemail

😳 : an embarrassing voicemail

😨 : a scared voicemail

😯 : a surprised voicemail

🥱 : a sleepy voicemail

🥴 : a drunk voicemail

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"  stop  fishing  for  declarations  .  you  already  know  what  is  true  .  "  even  the   deepest  depths  of  the  nights  sky  could  not  hide  the  travelling  smile  that   danced  its  way  onto  fitz's  face  .  his  softness ,  the  relaxation  of  his  features   that  seemed  only  reserved  for  samson  in  the  serene  moments  of  quiet   intimacy  ,  remained  a  phenomenon  that  he  found  hard  to  determine  .  his   twenty  three  years  on  this  earth  had  been  plagued  by  calculation  and   reckoning  .  what  was  he  now  to  do  when  a  boy  ,  of  epic  contradictions  and  mysteries  ,  had  drawn  it  out  of  him  as  if  it  were  as  easy  as  breathing  ?  "  fanfaidh  mé  go  deo  .  "  he  hummed  ,  the  words  almost  lost  to  the  nights   abyss  as  his  hands  found  meeting  behind  his  head  ,  his  body  finding  home   within  the  sand  that  cushioned  them  .  the  distractions  of  the  summer  ,  of   family  and  responsibility  ,  constantly  pounded  into  him  as  if  it  were  a  higher  power   that  they  all  belonged  to  ,  smothered  him  for  days  at  a  time.  the   hyperfixations  of  his  mind  provided  comfort  ,  even  respite  ,  from  the   cataclysmic  heartache  that  was  radiating  throughout  his  body  .  it  would  be  in  the  quietest  moments  ,  the  most  insignificant  of  times  ,  that  fitz  would  let  his  mind  wander  to  what  samson  was  doing  .  his  mothers  french  greeting  and   delicate  kisses  upon  the  hand  when  he  and  his  siblings  arrived  amidst  the   sweltering  july  sun  to  their  summerhouse  ,  or  a  sharp  scrawl  ,  almost  illegible  ,  in  the  front  cover  of  well  loved  ,  70s  reprint  of  daphne  du  maurier's  rebecca. fitz  battled  with  those  moments  continuously  ,  equally  craving  the   suppression  of  samson's  memory  ,  as  he  yearned  for  continuous  reminders  .  he  thought  the  geographical  borders  that  separated  them  served  with  cruel   intent  .  how  could  the  things  that  bound  them  so  ,  keep  them  apart  so   unjustly  ?  "  you  would've  found  me  waiting  otherwise,  like  a  dog  with  a  bone  at  your   door  .  "

the  ambience  of  the  waves  crashing  before  them  filled  the  silences  between   them  .  though  fitz  had  never  found  them  to  be  an  inconvenience  .  he   could've  happily  spent  his  days  immersed  in  those  periods  of  quiet  ,  with  the  man  sat   beside  him  .  they'd  both  favored  communication  in  the  form of  the  written  word  anyway  ,  as  if  pen  and  paper  were  a  safer  entity  than  speaking  words  into  existence  .  "  animated  expressions  have  never  really  been  our  style  ,though seeing  you  red  in  a  different  context  is  undoubtedly  intriguing  .  "  a  painted  smirk  drafted  its  way  onto  his  features  ,  as  his  eyes  glittered  ,   looking  up toward  his  starmate  .  fitz  had  never  been  a  man  that  lacked   confidence  ,  it  radiated  off  of  him  in  the  way  that  he  walked  ,  and  talked  ,  and  simply  ,  existed  .  but  on  nights  like  these  ,  with  the  present  company  ,  he  could  feel  himself  burying  his  body  into  the  sand  ,  further  and  further  .    waiting  ,  for  samson  to  pull  him  out  .  "  i  simply  exist  .  you  ,  on  the  other   hand  ,  wouldn't  be  able  to  get  your  fix  if  i  slinked  off  into  a  world  of  solitude  .  "   they  both  expressed  unadulterated  truth  to  one  another  ,  with  no   preconceived  premonition  of  concealment  .  the  o'callaghan  heir  indulged  in  the  goodness  that  samson  provided  him  ,  goodness  as  if  it  were  a  gift  .  but  in   his  soul  ,  as  the  gods  made  it  so  ,  he  was  born  to  taint  and  destroy  .  he  wondered  when  it  was  samsons  turn  to  be  destructed  in  his  wake  .  even  now  ,   when  they  shared  careful  touches  ,  a  nudge  of  the  shoulder  or  light  fingertips  tapping  against  his  knee  ,  he  questioned  whether  even  his  touch  had  the  power  to  contaminate  .    "  you've  been  banished  for  treason  for  wishing  ill  upon   the  redheads  of  the  land  .  do  you  have  any  final  words  before  you  are  exiled  ?  "  he  declared  ,  his  fist  morphing  into  a  faux  microphone  ,  holding  his  hand  dangerously  close  to  samson's  lips  .  "  don't  touch  your  hair  ,  i  really  do  like   you  just  the  way  you   are  .  " 

"Stranger; have I lost you so?" The glow of Fitz's complexion, the expansion of his nostril, the bold with which disdain gave his well cut lips, showed him in a new phase. Samson couldn't think of the last time he'd excited animation like this in someone; with good reason, most regarded him as void of affection, unspoiled by principles or faith. Looking at Fitz didn't calm or soothe him; there was something in his face, Samson could never bring himself to turn away from. The rare passions that crossed his own countenance were surely an unpleasant spectacle; was that why still, Fitz would not look at him? Quietly, Samson continued; his own hands fidgeted, knowing not where they would best serve. "Would it please you better to know I came here out of my of volt ion?" The stars, had a well earned place in their story; Henry VII had commissioned a trio of astrologers, and all would have cosigned the thought Samson and Fitz had been born under the same one. Their summer apart had been agony, but in parting, Samson had been a legacy. For the first time, since he was a child, he had a hope for the future; a brave new course. Few things could shake him -- everything had the power to depress him. .Fitz's eyes settled on him gently; there was softness in them now, shades of reproach melting into remorse. Samson's opening words merited a reply of severity -- he was met only with indulgence. He had not known until the day that they met, that his character had moods of haughtiness, warmth, jealousy; Fitz denied all these faults, but gathered them up and took him home. The manner in which Fitz spoke to him -- these gentle words -- would do Samson good for a lifetime. They would be comfort when he was lost in the straits of loneliness; a lifeline, pride would not cut short. In their proximity, a wordless language was shared. Never had Samson feel desire outstrip impulse, irritating his imagination --- his nerves were feverish, his eyes apparent to any onlooker they threatened to flash something like love. Faithfully Samson took Fitz's lead, resting beside him with a bent head and eager heart; their brief contact, sending that traitorous organ into a death march. He could not help but smile -- so alike the satisfied expression Fitz sported at any party. "You'd love to spite me -- I know you'd put down good money, to see me riled up."​​​​​​​ Samson looked at Fitz's face and instantly longed for the ability to know all his opinions; but well-employed questions in any language, would not better elicit them than whatever spell tethered them. He was quiet a moment, and hushed in reply. "Maybe. I suppose it wouldn't be of use to either of us for me to deny that. Not that I've been forced to wait for very long; do you remain a topic of conversation out of action or habit?" Samson's voice faltered out of delight then any fear -- he was made soft and docile, in the token of uncharacteristic goodness, he was being offered now. "I'm almost delusional enough to believe that, but I know you've noticed by now that my em dash usage is wildly out of control." It was almost pathetic, the gravity that Samson employed to gently nudge Fitz's shoulder -- but every touch they shared was too domestic to be tolerated. "Some would say I'm betraying our shared homeland in saying this, but I'm glad you're not into redheads. It'd complicate things too much, I think. And I'll take your for for it, that you're not this sophomores tall and Byronic paramour. Though I concede, I don't know what I would have been inspired to if you'd said yes." 

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the  animated  debate  that  sounded  throughout  the  cluttered  ,  post dinner  table  ,  was  enough  to  lurch  fitz  into  the  depths  of  sheer  ,  complete   boredom  .  his  presence  only  remained  due  to  the  minor   smug  gratification   that  his  opinion  ,  his  existence  ,  provided  to  the  adoring  crowd  seated  around  him  .  the  attendance  of  a  figure  flitting  behind  him  ,  with  words  that  were   tripping  over  one  another  for  dominance  ,  was  an  undoubted  ,  welcome   surprise  .  "  you're  right  ,  that  is  the  most  juvenile  way  i've  been  approached  ,  but  i'll  give  you  a  b+  for  effort  .  "  he  noted  with  a  polite  ,  contrived  smile   adorning  his  face  ,  his  body  only  presenting  her  half  of  the  attention  he  was   actually  giving  her  in  his  mind  .  his  ears  perked  to  a  chorous  of  sniggers  and   smirks  ,  the  players  in  his  own  perosnal  chess  game  ,  seeming  to  of  lost   their  manners  .  "  now  ,  now  ,  that  is  no  way  to  treat  our  new  friend  .  "  the   crystal  glass  containing  cheval  blanc  1998  ,  was  quickly  pounded  to  the  table   as  the  grating  sound  of  a  chair  ,  was  hauled  next  to  the  boston  native  .  "   must  i   introduce  myself  ?  "

" this is going to sound totally juvenile and silly . . . " theo began, heart threatening to hammer out of her chest as they approached their fellow classmate. though not too far behind, a group of other classmates were watching their every move, awaiting. " i've just been dared to kiss you. and you OBVIOUSLY, don't have to say yes . . . but i'd never hear the end of it if i didn't at least ask. " light pink tints her cheeks, " they all freaked out when i mentioned i've never played truth or dare. hence . . . "

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an   expertly   crafted   ,   reasonably   late   entrance   had   been   a   tradition   of    fitzgerald's   appearance   at   daskalos's   opening   banquet   .   he   beguiled   eager    freshman   with   his   imposing   stature   ,   allowed   seductive   whispers   to   linger    from   sophomores   and   juniors   .   he   wondered   ,   at   an   accelerated   rate    these   days   ,   whether   his   fellow   seniors   and   postgraduate   compatriots   ,    had   pieced   together   his   dedicated   showmanship   .   perhaps   it   did   not    occur   to   them   to   study   him   so   painstakingly   ,   as   he   did   to   them   .   it   was   a   night   of   play   far   more   than   it   was   a   pleasure   ,   an   unadulterated   chance   to   survey   the   new   cast   of   characters   in   their   most   vigilant   form   .   in   turn   ,   it   was   also   a   wondrous   experiment   to   calculate   how   the    summer   sun   illuminated   or   darkened   the   lives   of   daskalos   existing   troops   .   he'd   forgone   his   dinner   jacket   long   ago   ,   instead   he   welcomed   the    seasonal   breeze   carry   him   throughout  ��the   evening   .   kaelo   stark   ,   fellow    trust   funder   though   rather   uncommunicative   and   giving   for   his   liking   ,    seemed   to   have   a   similar   idea   .   there   he   was   ,   secluded   and   at   home    under   the   grecian   starlight   ,   surveying   their   fellow   comrades   in   arms   .    to   fitz   ,   he   was   ripe   for   the   taking   .   "   it's   all   rather   dull   when   it's    free   ,   though   i   suppose   it's   an   ostentatious   showing   by   design   .   "   he    replied   ,   a   faint   distance   within   his   tone   as   he   clinked   their   glasses    together   and   titled   his   aristocratic   chin   toward   the   moon   .   "   loose   lips    are   mildly   entertaining   though   ,   don't   you   think   ?   "   LIAR   ,   loose   lips    were   his   most   favored   entertainment   of   all   . 

open  starter​​​​​​​  ⇢​​​​​​​  𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊.

𝓼𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 . . .  the  rooftop  bar,  post-dinner.

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓  𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑,  &  the  year  before  that,  daskalos  had  gone  above  &  beyond  with  the  banquet  arrangements  —  the  room  decorated  to  hell  &  back,  everyone  dressed  to  the  nines,  the  menu  curated  by  michelin  star  chefs.  he  could  be  having  a  worse  time,  he  supposes;  this  year's  cohort  seems  nice  enough,  with  a  handful  of  new  faces.  some  of  them  seem  like  they're  going  to  make  him  want  to  claw  his  own  eyes  out,  but  he'll  wait  for  the  first  dionysia  meeting  to  make  a  final  judgment  call.  for  now,  he's  resolved  to  taking  advantage  of  the  open  bar,  &  he  leans  his  weight  on  his  elbows  where  they  rest  on  a  railing,  looking  out  over  the  water.  a  presence  to  his  left  draws  his  attention,  &  his  eyes  flick  to  his  newfound  (  unwarranted  )  company,  raising  an  eyebrow in  silent  acknowledgement.  he  turns  around,  leaning  his  hips  back  against  the  railing  &  glancing  across  the  rooftop  to  the  crowd  forming  near  the  bar.  he'd  been  one  of  the  first  to  leave  the  table  in  favor  of  taking  advantage  of  the  open  bar  —  a  whiskey  sour already  in  hand,  which  he  sips  casually  as  his  lips  curl  into  an  amused  smile.  ❛  you  drinking  tonight?  they're  paying  for  it.  you  might  as  well.  ❜

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"   hello   ,   stranger   .   "   fitz   murmured   ,   as   if   to   the   air   .   samson's   presence   radiated   even   from   the   furthest   corner   of   the   island   ,   the   threads   that   tied   them   together   glistened   whenever   he   sought   the   solitude   that   they   so   often   craved   .   he   knew   who   those   silent   footprints    in   the   sand   belonged   to   ,   the   waves   could   not   curtail   the   electricity   of  their   kind   of   emotional   pull   .   he   often   thought   that   the   moonlight   called   to   them   both   ,   as   if   the   nights   sky   provided   them   some   kind   of   sanctity   they   weren't   afforded   in   the   daylight   .   perhaps   that   was   why    the   summer   ,   had   never   been   quite   their   season   .   the   longer   evenings   and   a   sun   that   threatened   to   remain   well   past   when   it   was   due   ,   had   felt   ill   fitting   to   them   both   ,   like   a   garment   that   never   quite   hung   in    the   way   one   would   like   it   to   .   he   supposed   it   was   always   meant   to   be   this   way   ,   reuniting   with   only   the   stars   as   their   audience   .   fitz's   hands   were   crossed   loosely   ,   cushioning   the   back   of   his   head   .   he   hadn't    dared   to   look   at   samson   yet   ,   he'd   not   even   dared   to   spare   him   a glance   .   "   did   the   stars   tell   you   to   find   me   here   ,   or   have   you   been    watching   me   all   night   ?   "  he   supposed   that   their   dynamic   had   never   been   one   of    miscommunication   or   misunderstanding   .   instead   ,   it   was   peppered   with   a   million   unspoken   words   and   touches   that   we   not   pursued   .   if   they  were   bolder   ,   even   prouder   in   their   feelings   toward   one   another   ,   fitz    would   rattle   off   every   thought   he'd   had   all   summer   :   come   home   to   me   ,   my   world   is   glacial   and   hollow   without   your   warmth   ,   why   did   you  not   call   ?   why   did   you   not   write   ?   he   wanted   to   be   cruel   ,   use   this    as   the   golden   opportunity   that   in   any   other   context   ,   that   he'd   characterize   as   his   eureka   moment   .   but   the   heart   he   once   thought   he   was   without   ,   spoke   to   him   in   ways   that   felt   foreign   to   him   .   "   why   would   i   ever   want   to   spite   you   ?   "   fitz   questioned   ,   finally   succumbing   to   the   desire   that   radiated   through   him   .   he   paused   ,   took   in   his   surroundings   and   the   man   before   him   .   not   for   calculation   or   premeditation   ,   but   for   the   simple   fact   of   wanting   to   bask   in   his   presence   .   fitz   nodded   his   head   ,   to   indicate   that   they   should   sit   .   in   the  process   ,   the   intentional   graze   of   his   shoulder   was   a   communication   .   it   was   a   declaration   ,   of   longing   and   wanting   ,   of   a   reassurance   that   samson   really   was   here   ,   in   the   flesh   .   "   all   that   tells   me   is   that   you've   been   waiting   to   hear   my   name   on   the   lips   of   our   brothers   and   sisters   in   arms   .   "   a   cocked   brow   , and   a   slight   smile   threatened   to   break   through   .   he   could   not   deny   ,   he   was   rather   pleased   that   he   was   not   the   only   one   with   open   ears   ,   and   eager   eyes   .   "   you're   without  shortcomings   ,   dearest   .   i   like   you   just   as   you   are   .   "   he   hummed   ,  letting   the   alabaster   sand   cascade   through   his   finger   tips   .   "   to   note   ,   i   have   no   opinion   of   redheads   ,   nor   am   i   component   of   said   whirlwind  love   affair   ,   before   you   let   your   mind   wander   .   "

for: @fvlsegcd 

location: the beach 

  Samson was detained by converging twilight on the beach -- breathing in the deepening calm, the coolness of departing light mellowing him. There rankled a suspicion in his heart he was not alone; and of course, it was him there. Fitz's feet were firmly planted against alabaster sand, a force of nature sunshine now could not win over with simmering heat. Again and again and again, those eyes met his -- but offering nothing, they withdrew. Samson wished he could have dared to be near him; but he lived in perpetual fear his presence would evince indignation from Fitz. He longed to speak now -- he dared not whisper. Degrees of separation that summer had changed their relationship, but not in the manner he had painfully anticipated. Those warm words, though only warm in estrangement, breathed life on the frail frost-work of Samson's being. Fitz seemed to know that even if he only deigned to speak of himself, Samson's wish would always be satisfied.     For Samson's part, there was only one avenue of recourse now; he had to expiate his palpable feelings or he would not sleep that night. In a poorly executed attempt at indifference, Samson approached Fitz with his eyes upon the foaming waves; only until they stood within arms reach, did he meet the heat of his gaze.. He was powerless to deny himself the delight of indulging Fitz's most vicious moods, and being a pliant thing, to his will. Sometimes Fitz was prone to vindictive pleasures and harassed him; in-spite of Samson's desire to only hear and bear all, Fitz struck so expertly against the flint of whatever stamina Samson owned. In a strange and new phase, an utterly selfish one, Samson coveted this, too. He had lived in perpetual fear of a singular thing that would change him, an angst engrained in his nature. Fitz bore something in him -- but he did not know if he yielded himself to this singular path, if he would be asked to parted with his identity. "You always feel taller when your shoes are off -- is it an American thing, or is it just a party trick to spite me?" Samson did not wish to reflect much on the tenderness that marked his tone; he would rather invest in dissecting Fitz's reply, something he felt he knew by heart. Fitz would first offer a spare, but expressive answer -- and if Samson was lucky, a smile would wander around his lips, an expression that felt either blithe or critical. "I heard a girl at dinner speaking about some whirlwind love affair that's left her anchor-less; seemed like your type of scene -- but we've never discussed, whether you're infatuated with gingers or not. It'll be another thing to add to my list of shortcomings, if you are." 

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the   shadowed   corners   and   darkened   hallways   of   kitron   ,   were   a   second  home   to   the   o'callaghan   heir   .   he   basked   in   the   privacy   ,   a   moment   to   wipe   his   nose   free   of   any   lingering   snow   ,   or   a   brief   pause   of   serendipity   to   survey   his   surroundings   ,   calculate   his   next   move   .   he   felt incandescent   daggers   all   dinner   ,   the   same   ones   that   searched   for   him   now   ,   in   the   crowd   of   daskalos's   best   and   brightest   .   she   did   look   rather   ravishing   tonight   .   or   ,   was   it  ��the   summer   of   separation   dancing   around   on   his   tongue   ?  he   could   not   deny   ,   playing   with   greer   was   a   pastime   of   his   upmost   enjoyment   .   he   knew   all   too   well   ,   how   to   make   her   tick   ,   how   to   manufacture   and   manipulate   the   spectacle   of   that   big   ,   beating   heart   of   hers   .   he   knew   it   would   sicken   her   that   he   stretched   out   his   "   hellos   "   and   his   "   good   summers   ?   "   to  everyone   in   his   path   ,   bar   her   .   if   he   was   so   inclined   ,   he   could   hold   court   in   her   eyeline   .   but   after   all   ,   the   night   had   spoken   to   him   and   reminded   him   of   their   fun   .   he   had   missed   her somewhat   .   court   could   wait   .   "   if   you're   attempting   to  comment   on   my   tan   ,   it   was   at   it's   peak   last   week   .   "   he   responded   ,   the   ghost   of   a   careful   smirk   threatening   to   appear   ,   and   a   posture    that   carefully   connoted   a   concoction   of   boredom   and   allure   .   "   you   really   do   look   very   pretty   tonight   ,   am   i   now   too   lowly   in   your   eyes   ,   to   warrant   a   proper   greeting   ?   "   fitz   questioned   ,   as   he   brought   the    glass   his   hand   was   once   clawing   ,   up   to   his   sinful   lips   . 

he'd   better   be   actually   dead,   was   what   she   told   her   friend   ten   minutes   ago.   the   worst   part   of   this   whole   ordeal?   people   knew   before   she   got   here   what   happened   this   summer   between   her   and   fitzgerald   o'callaghan   ⸺   and   like   the   sniveling   rats   they   are,   searching   for   any   sign   of   weakness   in   the   foundations   of   her,   they   asked   anyway.   she   had   just   gotten   through   explaining   the   whole   situation   when   she   saw   him.   

her   heart's   dropped   in   fitz's   presence   before.   when   he   drunkenly   took   a   swan   dive   off   the   dresser   in   her   dorm,   or   when   he   whispered   things   he   did   not   mean   into   the   charged   air   between   them   on   nights   they   never   speak   of.   her   heart   dropped   now   because   of   a   familiar,   wretched   feeling:   hurt.   she   narrowed   her   eyes,   crossed   her   arms   over   her   chest,   and   tilted   her   head.   "forget   something,   fitzgerald?"   she   asked,   as   sweetly   as   she   could.   her   friends   behind   her   tensed,   and,   smartly,   found   somewhere   else   to   be.

closed starter, kitron : post - dinner. @fvlsegcd for fitz

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JACOB ELORDI at the venice film festival 2023.

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first they’ll give u butterflies then mental trauma

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⋆｡°✩ 𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐙𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐃 𝐎'𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐒

twenty   four   ,   senior   at   daskalos   university   studying   political    science   , hailing   from   boston   ,   massachusetts  an undoubted  ,   undisputed   ,    menace   to   society   . 

at   present   ,   my   brain   simply   won't   allow   me   to   condense   fitz's   work    doc   into   a   tumblr   post   .   therefore   ,   please   browse   the   doc   (   linked   in    the   source   )   at   your   pleasure   . 

i   absolutely   cannot   wait   to   write   with   you   all   .   please   forgive   my    laziness   ,   and   my   menace   to   society   for   any   chaos   that   will   ensue   . 

  hugs   and   kisses   -   b   .

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AMERICAN PSYCHO (2000) dir. Mary Harron