#Angelo Villa

[whitehartlane]

this playing out from the back gimmick is not that bad you know

[writeforpeanuts]

Top 10 Myrtle Beach Restaurants for 2024

Explore the culinary delights of Myrtle Beach alongside Clark Thomas, the protagonist of the Myrtle Beach Mystery Series. Curious about the best local dining spots, I surveyed my readers to uncover their favorite restaurants in Myrtle Beach. Discover the top 10 Myrtle Beach restaurants for 2024 based on their recommendations and make the most of your dining experience in this vibrant coastal…

[hsmagazine254]

Unveiling the Marvels of Rome: Exploring Attractions, Shopping, Food & Unique Experiences

 Unveiling The Marvels Of Rome Rome, the Eternal City, is a captivating destination that seamlessly blends ancient history with modern charm. From its iconic landmarks to its vibrant culture, Rome offers a plethora of experiences that will leave you spellbound. In this article, we will embark on a virtual journey through Rome, highlighting its top attractions, shopping hotspots, culinary…

[tiethenott]

Nott so nice

toxic!theodore nott x reader

The walk to your boyfriend"s dorm is filled with dread,contemplation and a part of yourself trying to convince yourself that you're being stupid,to turn back.But the other part of you continues to drag your body to his dorm.You enter his room,not knocking because he told you before to just enter,because you were his cuore,his angelo,his dolce ragazza. Entering his dorm,his face lights up in a smile as he looks at you "Ciao tesoro" he says patting the bed for you to sit next to him.However,his face mars into confusion when you shut the door and walk to lean against his desk,an unreadable expression plastered on his pretty girlfriend's face. "Sweetheart,come sit" he retorts again,laughing "Teddy,we need to talk" you mutter in a soft tone,finally making eye contact with him His smile falls and it's replaced with a stonic,monotone expression."About what,love?" "Theo..I don't want you to take this the wrong way but..." you sit on the bed,taking his hand in yours in an attempt to calm his impending anger that's about to come "Theo,we need to take a break." you blurted out.You expected him to yell,cry,beg for you to stay but didn't expect him to smile and laugh "Sure!I've been needing a break from everything,school has been killing me!We could go to Greece,no Ital!ymy nonna has the most adorable villa on the sea coast-" he starts to ramble 'Fuck.This was going to be harder than you thought.' you inaudibly thought You let out a nervous laugh,"Erm no theo..not that type of break,i mean a relationship..break" you say nervously,watching his face contort to anger. "Fine." he says with no emotion his voice in contrast to his evil stare that sent chills straight down your back "Thank you,theo." you say hesitantly,not fully believing it but not wanting to waste time before he changed his mind.You squeeze his hand and hurry out of his room,your heart ready to jump out of your chest with how rapidly its beating.

The following days were filled with dread,why would he just let you go?the man who hexed people for looking at you,who checked your ohone almost every day,was he done with you?bored? The third day of you being single,youre sat in the library,studying with Harry who you havent been able to talk to for 3 months!As you're laughing about a joke he made,you hear a ping coming from your phone.Mindlessly checking it,your heart drops.Its a notification from theo..? You open the chat and your eyes widen,heartrate severly increasing as you see a video of him fucking you,your face shown fully on camera.You didnt even remember him taking this!But the scariest part is that there was no follow up text,just the video.Was he threating you?blackmailing you? You excuse yourself from Harry and rush to theodore's room,flinging the door open to see him working on a DADA paper,unbothered "What the fuck theodore!?What is this?!" you exclaim,showing him your phone "What do you mean love?its us?its beautiful isn't it?." he says spinning his chair to face you then standing up,his frame towering over you "When did you take this?i don't even remember this!why do you have this-" you're cut off by Theodore placing a finger against your lips,shushing you he tsks before finally speaking,"You remember after Draco's birthday?you were a bit drunk,begging me to fuck you?Ring any bells?" he coos tapping your head "Delete it,now." your words make him laugh as he puts your phone in his pocket before placing his hands on your hips "Now,i've given you some time to think so are we back together?" he questions calmly,ignoring your words "What?No!" your voice is filled with confusion and the want for answers "Wrong choice,cara." he says grabbing his phone "Hey-what are you doing?" you question with worry "About to send everyone we know the video,what dont want everyone seeing you be my slut?" he replies snarkily

"No stop!" you interject,trying to grab his phone but his tall frame holds it high "I'll stay with you!" the words blurt out of your mouth,causing a smile to plaster on his now elated face "I knew you'd come to your senses,vita mia." he throws his arms around you,englufing you in an embrace as if he didn't threaten you a minute ago. Theo pulls away from warm hug and cups your face,brushing strands of hair out of your face with his finger like a lover would do.He tenderly kisses you and reluctantly you kiss back,not wanting to upset him. "Why dont we make another video,sweetheart?"

[lucaf2019]

Villa Paraìso e Punta Sayulita Nayarit, Messico (1/2)

📷 Angelo Pennetta, Vogue US, giugno 2015

[canonicallyobserving911]

Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON FanFic: Buddie Multi-Chapter - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 29 will be posted one day this week. (Hopefully by Tuesday but no later than Wednesday.)

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Currently 28 chapters completed: 1.77M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

#1 {Previous snippet} #2 {Previous snippet}

#3 {Previous snippet} #4 {Previous snippet}

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I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 29 because at the end of Chapter 28, it was early in the morning and Buck and Eddie were lying in bed having a serious conversation about whether Eddie's going to delay the pursuit of his second paramedic certification, the ACP-C. Buck doesn't want him to give up his dream, especially now since they know what caused Buck's bradycardia and he's on medication. He's doing better and even though he's still grieving, he believes once he passes the last two stages of grief, Frank may clear him to return to work but he's still not sure if he wants to go back to being a firefighter. Also, Eddie's FMLA ends on January 31, 2024 but the question is will he extend it or return to the 118?

Additionally, Chris is still dealing with one of his classmate's lack of participation in their video game project and it's stressing him out. Furthermore, during their last group therapy session, Buck had a conversation with Captain Jeshan Mehta and he asked him if they could meet so he can get an objective viewpoint from someone about whether he could be a captain someday with the LAFD. He decided not to ask Bobby since he doesn't believe he'll give him an objective viewpoint because in September 2022, he told him he needed more life experience. Things are getting interesting as the Diaz family gets closer to their "New Beginnings".

__________

Here's a snippet from Chapter 29. It's from one of Buck and Eddie's conversations.

This will be the last snippet before the chapter is posted.

___________

Eddie taps end on his phone, then he leans back and takes Buck’s hand in his. They’re quietly sitting on the couch and they're allowing the weight of everything that they just discussed during the call to surround them.

After a few seconds, Buck asks, “Babe… what do you think?” 

He looks at his husband, meets his eyes and admits, “I know we didn’t look up the population in the area before we bid on it and I don’t think we needed too since we loved staying in a villa that was on a hill and it was miles away from any neighbors.  The solitude alone was great and there wasn’t any traffic in the area, unlike here in L.A.  Additionally, we didn’t research establishing residency or applying for dual citizenship but amore mio…”  He trails off but there’s a smile on his face and while they hold each other’s gazes, he continues.  “I’m excited about it and I still want that house for us.”

“Me too.”  Buck replies with a smile, then he leans in and kisses him.

It’s deep, languid and tantalizing and as their tongues tangle, they gasp and moan into it.  After they break it, they’re both breathless and they lean their foreheads together.

“Babe?”  Buck whispers.

“Yes, my love?”

“We bid on a house in Italy while we were on our honeymoon!”

Eddie smiles, chuckles and replies, “We sure did and I hope we get it.”

“I hope we do too.  Um... Thursday is the 1st and didn't Angelo say he’d call us at the beginning of February?”

“He did and hopefully, he’ll call us to let us know something soon.”

He nods. “I think Jackson and Nancy are a friendly couple and they were very helpful.  I—I mean they answered all of our questions.”

“You’re right they did and while we were in San Gimignano, I enjoyed spending time with them.  Also, they have sons around Chris’ age… if I’m not mistaken, Darren’s 13 and Scott is 11 which means Chris will have someone close to his age whenever we travel to our new home.  When we go in June, Mario and Vincent will be with us and if they get accepted into the University of Florence’s computer science program, all five boys will be in it and we’ll get to visit Jackson and Nancy’s vineyard and the coolest part is they’ll be our neighbors.”

Who is Jackson, Nancy, Darren and Scott? 😉 (hint they met them in Chapter 23)

Will Angelo call Buck and Eddie at the beginning of February like he said he would?

Will Buck and Eddie get the house they bid on in December and if they do, will they move to Italy or are they planning to maintain two houses, one in L.A. and the other in San Gimignano?

___________

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - After Buck resumes therapy, he’ll continue to face the fact that he “DIED” in March 2023 and during those sessions, he’ll learn about the 7 stages of grief. As he continues his healing journey, Eddie will be right by his side just like he promised and the Diaz family will start to deal with their three minutes and seventeen seconds loss as a family.

Chapter 28 - Two years ago, Eddie was asked, “What are you afraid of?”; twice, once by Frank and once by Buck but he only answered one of them without deflecting. Since that time, he’s been to therapy and him and Buck got married but the question resurfaces when Frank asks Buck the same question and Buck asks it of Eddie for the second time. However, when Buck asks, his reasoning will be about something else entirely.

Chapter 29 - Will be posted soon.

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Read chapters 1-28 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

[wrongcaitlyn]

Would Kayla be like current Olympic athletes posting memes and such?

she ABSOLUTELY would. i actually downloaded tt last week for the first time in ages just because i wanted to watch the olympian tt's and imagine kayla as them - she would 100% be a part of all of the trends, she'd do like the ranking food and testing the beds and calling the olympic village the olympic villa and joke about finding her true love there. obviously, her first olympics would be in tokyo which was still with covid precautions, but she'd just be having the time of her life this summer. i think she'd def be one of the most popular olympic athletes, also bringing a lot of attention to archery as a sport, and her audience is like completely split up from where they know her - do they know her as an archer? as nico di angelo's friend? as apollo's kid? as a social media influencer? she's literally everywhere

[tina-aumont]

Tina Aumont pictured by Angelo Frontoni in Spring 1968 at the Roman Villa she shared with Frédéric Pardo.

Photo from Tina's personal collection and published in 2002 Cine Zine Zone magazine number 134.

Very special thanks to @74paris for sharing this rare gem 🌟

[ambiguouspuzuma]

The Allergologist

They found Giuliana first and last. There had been one guest missing when the others sat down to eat, a welcome dinner apparently laid on by their host, but she seemed to have been laid out at the same time. They almost stumbled across her, heading out to the veranda with their drinks. Nearly stepped over her fallen body, as the sun set out over the sea. But they'd had to come across each other first.

"I'm the photographer," Tarcisio announced to the entrance hall, returning from his brief search of the villa. "And I do so look forward to working with you all tomorrow. I know we have a few days here, but I already have plenty of ideas for each of you. This scenery will make for some wonderful backdrops."

They'd arrived separately, ferried in on small dinghies with a single set of oars. Their boatman had explained that the seas around the island were strewn with jagged rocks, as deadly as they were beautiful, and there was no chance of risking a larger vessel, let alone one with an engine. He'd dropped them on a white sand beach on the far side of the island, with a promise to return at the end of the week when their work was complete.

"Is everyone else here a model?" Mona asked, eyeing up her competition. "Forgive me, I'm not familiar with any of your work. I mostly do solo shoots."

There had been small talk, beforehand: exchanged names and kisses, complaints about the journey, offers of the lemon-water on a stand by the door. But that had been in pairs - soon broken up to take their luggage to their allocated rooms, to change out of their travelling clothes, to wipe their brows and cleanse their pores. This was the first time they'd all gathered together. The whole crew, or so they'd thought.

"Yes," Davide said, meeting her appraisal with one of his own. "Likewise."

He was beautiful in the old fashioned sense of coming from great wealth. High cheekbones were the legacy of generations of good breeding, and so were the monthly spa retreats, the minor surgeries, the best treatments money could buy. In the past, he might have commissioned an artist to create a flattering portrait; now he paid them to paint it directly onto his face. Muses had always come from money. The right background could make any foreground work.

Hers seemed more of a natural beauty, in the sense of a thresher shark or distant meteor shower. She was sleek, dark, angular, what the magazines called striking - a stiletto wrapped in fondant, a light dusting of skin across cartilage and bone, as sweet as sharpened sugar cane. Davide had learnt to mistrust competitors on sight. Theirs was a cut-throat industry. They might occupy different role today, but the next shoot might only call for one model, and she wouldn't hesitate to take over his role; any more than he would pause to do the same.

"I'm not." Luisa broke that eye contact before it could turn deadly. "I'm a writer. I'm not sure what I'm doing here, to be perfectly honest. I just received the letter of commission, but it didn't mention anything about a shoot, or that anybody else would be joining me. I thought this was for a piece of travel writing."

"They'll probably run some quotes with the images," Tarcisio explained. "Just write a few lines of poetic description about the island. You can accompany me, if you like. Then you'll capture the same view, the same light, as the camera does."

"Do we know who they are?" Davide asked. "My letters were from a Signor Angelo Cauriani, but I couldn't find out who he represents. Not a major publication, that's for sure."

They all nodded at the name. It was familiar, and not just from the correspondence that had brought them here: an initial approach, an offer, an invitation to this island, their travel already arranged. Mona ventured that it rang a distant bell; Luisa agreed that she might have heard of him before, but couldn't quite place where.

"Everyone needs photographs." Tarcisio shrugged. "It could be a trade magazine. Any kind of company, looking for some filler for their brochures. Household appliances. Accountancy. All I know is that he represents a cheque that cashed. Whatever line of work he's in, I'm not in the business of turning down a well-paid job."

There were more nods at that. None of them wanted to share their individual offers, although Mona and Davide locked eyes again. The money had been enough to bring them all here. All expenses paid, and what an expense it must have been: what seemed to be an island all their own, complete with this villa at its heart. Tarcisio showed them what he'd discovered on his tour of the inside: a grand library, well-stocked with dusty classics; a solarium, replete with a minor jungle of tropical plants; a marble dining room, with a table laid for five.

"It's set for us," he said, pointing to the name plates between each knife and fork. Mona Musso and Luisa Donadoni. Davide Guglielmi and Tarcisio Minotti. The fifth name, Giuliana Nocera, they assumed to represent their host - there was no mention of Signor Cauriani, but no doubt he had a personal assistant, a hostess who dealt with these logistics on the ground. Their paymasters rarely attended shoots in person, and they certainly didn't supervise the catering.

The centre of the table was arranged with silver cloches of differing sizes, like a modernist sculpture, or a future colony on Mars. With nothing else to do but wait, Tarcisio dared to take a peek, and revealed the sight - and more alluring scent - of several delicious meals, apparently left here for their arrival. They were warm, but cooling quickly, and eventually hunger overcame etiquette: Signora Nocera, when she arrived, would surely understand. Talent had to be taken care of first.

"You should try the risotto," Mona addressed Davide to her right, helping herself to the smallest possible portion. "Set food isn't normally this good - although you seem like you're used to fine dining otherwise."

"What's in it?" he asked, with more than his usual suspicion. There were two ways he might take her comment, and neither was appreciated. "I can't have anything with tree nuts in."

"I haven't heard of that diet."

"It's an allergy," he replied, with a look that might have been withering were she not already so reduced. "I could die, so I'd appreciate a little more sensitivity."

"Of course." Mona flashed a smile as bleached and empty as a dying coral reef. "Just pumpkin and parmesan, to my uneducated palette - no pesto or pistachio, if that's what you're worried about."

"The arancini seem to just be mushroom," Luisa said, proffering the dish across from him. "But I'd understand if you don't want to take the risk. I might not, if I were in your position. There's no shame in being cautious."

They navigated the main course safely, and retired to an adjoining room, where they found a dessert trolley before a small cabinet of drinks. As in the dining room, five glasses had been laid out for them to use, and Luisa poured them each a small sherry to celebrate their mutual good fortune. "To new friends," she led a toast, and let the others follow with their own.

"To absent hostesses."

"To a successful shoot."

"To Signor Cauriani, wherever he may be."

They assessed the desserts on offer, but the models didn't like to eat much on a job, and a room temperature affogato did little to entice them otherwise. Davide was out of luck in any case: he reeled away from the sight of hazelnut zabagliones, amaretti semifreddo and pistachio cheesecake. Tarcisio tried a slice of the latter, whilst Luisa had a single bite of baklava.

"Speaking of allergies, here's an interesting twist for you." As a novice writer, it seemed she felt compelled to draw attention to all and any sources of irony. "I'm deathly allergic to bee stings, and yet I adore honey on everything."

"Then by all means, the rest are yours," Davide said, almost diplomatically, hoping that the sticky treats might seal her mouth shut.

The room had been set out with reading chairs, around a table with a deck of cards, but they decided to take their drinks outside instead. It was a warm evening, and it seemed a waste to spend it cooped up inside, even in a place as beautiful as this - the alternative was an ocean view, and no amount of décor could compete with a sunset out at sea. The villa backed onto a veranda, and they flowed out through vast French doors, topping up their drinks along the way.

"You weren't wrong about the scenery," Davide said to their photographer, once he'd caught his breath. The waves sparkled in the evening light, each ripple perfect from above, as if the sea was dancing for their audience. "They couldn't have picked a better spot."

"It's hard to find a bad one," Tarcisio agreed. "I've barely explored this side of this island, but what I saw on the walk up from the boat was magical. I can't wait to see how it wears the sunlight in the morning, when the front of the villa will have its chance to shine. Forgive me if I wake you at the break of dawn!"

"Oh, so the harbour's on the other side?" Luisa, who usually charged by the word, didn't stay quiet for long. "Silly me, I was just looking for our boat."

"Would you call it a harbour?" Mona's tone made her own feelings clear, including some disdain for her mistake. The writer clearly moved in different circles in her usual professional life - smaller ones, and until now apparently landlocked. "I counted one small boat and a length of rope."

"Let's walk round and see, shall we?" Tarcisio took his turn as peacemaker. Models were often highly strung, and he'd learnt the power of distraction long ago. "Come on, there's nothing like an after-dinner stroll."

He almost tripped over the body. A woman, of a similar age to the rest of them. Attractive, if it wasn't for the pool of blood concealing half her face. It looked like she'd done something similar, coming around the side of the house: taking the corner at speed, judging from the way she'd sprawled across the patio, before stumbling on an uneven paving slab. A heavy landing, with her head taking the worst of the impact. Slender arms not raised in time.

"Oh fuck," said Luisa, the wordsmith. "Is she... you know?"

"Dead?" Mona wore the same scathing tone, as if the circles she frequented also saw plenty of head wounds. "It looks like it, wouldn't you say?"

"But for how long?" Tarcisio wondered. "I certainly didn't hear anything. Was I the first to arrive?"

Davide vomited. He'd been lagging behind the others as they walked around the house, but reacted to the corpse with far more enthusiasm.

"Charming," Mona said, stepping closer to the body, as if preferring blood to bile. "Signora Nocera, we presume?"

"That would make sense. I just don't know why she's here, when the rest of us met in the entrance hall. Maybe she wasn't our hostess, after all - just the first of us to get here. Although I still don't know why she didn't wait inside."

"A pre-dinner stroll has just as much appeal. You went on your own little tour, when you thought you were the only one here." She peered closer at the wound. "Are we thinking that she fell? There's not much sign of other wounds, defensive or otherwise."

"I don't think she was walking," Luisa said, looking ahead of them. "There are footprints, if you see - coming from the front of the house. Wet sand from the beach."

"And you can tell she was running from the way they're spaced?" Mona had been born cynical, and this glorified pen-for-hire had hardly earnt her trust.

"Something like that," Luisa agreed, but in a far-off sort of voice. "But I do think you should look at them. You see... there are two sets of tracks. I think that she was being chased."

There was a soft thud and a lighter tinkle behind them. They all jumped, Tarcisio actually clearing the body in a bid to use it as a human shield - but if anything they had gained another. Davide had been red in the face since his arrival on the scene, bent double, as if the short walk around the corner had given him a stitch. Now he had collapsed, landing in a miserable pool of his own ejecta.

"Has he actually fainted?" Mona was losing patience with her colleagues. "I know it's awful, but seriously? Some people need to get a grip. You don't see me keeling over at the first sight of blood."

Luisa went to check his pulse, tried doing so again, and then looked back up at the others - she didn't actually say it, for once lost for words, but the look on her face told them everything they needed to know. Mona had to check for herself, and then Tarcisio tried for good measure, but none of find it - not in his wrist, his palm, his neck, and nor could Luisa hear a beating heart, when she put an ear to his well-muscled chest.

"Another one of us dead," she said, in that same, distant way, as if in her mind she was still at home in bed, and all of this was a dream from which she would shortly wake.

"Do we think it was shock?" An element of hope had crept into Mona's voice.

Tarcisio set his own glass down on the flagstones, and prized the shattered stem from the dead man's fingers. He sniffed the remnants of the glass, then the bile on the floor, and delivered the verdict like a death sentence.

"There's a faint smell of almonds."

"As in cyanide?" asked Luisa, who clearly read too many novels.

"As in amaretto," he said. "Or anything with orgeat in it. I'm not a mixologist."

"Does it matter?" she said. "It could have been an almond milk substitute, and his allergy would have made that just as deadly. Cyanide or not, are we saying he was poisoned?"

"Why don't you tell us?" Mona interjected. "Didn't you pour the sherry?"

"The same bottle for all of us, remember." Luisa took a sip from her own drink, and tried to discern any frangipane perfume. "We each picked up a glass. I can't taste any almond in mine."

"Nor mine," Tarcisio said, reclaiming it from the ground - although he only sampled the bouquet, reluctant to keep drinking from a potential murder weapon. "It could have equally been something he ate. Did you get him to try your risotto, in the end?"

"It wasn't mine, just in front of me," Mona said - although she didn't have an answer to the rest.

"Two deaths in one evening," Luisa repeated, as if needing someone else to confirm this was real. "That can't be a coincidence, right? What do we do?"

"We keep walking." Tarcisio straightened up, back in charge. "We have to contact the mainland. Let's find the boat, and get out of here."

"Are we sure it's safe?" Mona asked. "There are two bodies on this path already."

"Right now, I think it's just about the safest place on this island."

"Just because you scouted it this afternoon?" Her natural scepticism was back.

He shook his head, and pointed to what Luisa had seen before: two sets of tracks, leading up to presumably-Giuliana's corpse. They'd grown fainter as they went, and been disturbed by their own sortie from the rear, but they did seem to continue on behind them.

"Because the footprints lead the other way."

They walked on, three where they had been four, where they should have been five. The survivors kept close together, but at least an arm's length apart. None wanted to be first, with the others behind them - but neither did they want to be last, with nobody watching their back. They rotated as a pack, like a peloton of cyclists, or a phalanx of soldiers: eyes open, looking all around, and ready to run at the second sign of trouble.

They found the harbour, or length of rope, or where it used to be. Their gondolier was gone. They retraced the path down from the villa approach, hoping that they'd somehow missed it behind the sparse vegetation, but there was no mistaken. The boat had gone, or been sunk, and the mooring with it: there was no sign that it had ever been here. If a search party came looking for them, they wouldn't find much of a trail.

"We've been abandoned." Luisa breathed, as if the realisation had winded her.

"Or something happened to him." Tarcisio told her, his face equally pale. He made to sit down on the trail back to the house, but reconsidered, on inspecting the state of the ground. His trousers were expensive.

"There's a third option." There was no panic in Mona's voice, only a sort of grim recognition of the facts.

"That the boatman is our killer?" He nodded. "I considered that as well. Not that it changes much, from our perspective."

"But I've never seen that man before in my life!" Luisa protested. "Why lure us all the way out here, just to kill us one-by-one? Why would a stranger ferry us to our deaths?"

"None of us claim to have met each other," Mona reminded her. "And yet here we are. Two dead. Someone has to have had a grudge. It could be a third party, someone who knows all of us separately. Our work must have its overlaps."

"You think they'll be coming for all of us?" She seemed horrified, as if she hadn't considered that she might be a target too. As if the others must have done something to deserve it. "Why?"

"I can't see why we'd be any safer. Davide was a stranger to each of us, as far as we know. Perhaps someone who resents models. A writer or photographer, say."

"Or a model wanting to eliminate her competition," Tarcisio shot back. "Do we know anything about Signora Nocera?"

"She didn't look like a model," said Mona, uncharitably. "Maybe she really was here to welcome us, and arrived before us to set up. She might have even cooked the meal, before someone did for her. Who was the first to arrive? It certainly wasn't me."

"You know that I was here," he sighed. "But I told you, I didn't see anyone else. Signora Nocera, or otherwise. Not that I was particularly looking. We can check the cupboards when we're back."

"What about Signor Cauriani?" Luisa shuddered. "Do you think he could be hiding somewhere in the house?"

"He could have been the boatman, for as much as we know," Tarcisio said. "But we're not going to learn any more here. Come on, let's take another look at the house. I don't know about you, but I'm not in the mood to be hunted. I don't want to wait for them to find us."

"I agree," Mona said. "Let's go back via the kitchen. I want a knife."

"To kill them?" Tarcisio didn't seem as sure about that. "From the evidence to date, it doesn't seem like they've used force, or felt comfortable attacking us as a group. We'd be better off keeping alive to traps, and sticking together. Knives don't make that quite so tempting."

"For you, perhaps." She shrugged. "I'd certainly feel more comfortable."

They walked back up the slope, but with less enthusiasm than when they'd first arrived. The island was still beautiful, but the sun was beginning to set, and they wouldn't have much longer in the light. Nobody said it aloud, but they wanted to have the house secured before it got dark. Fears could be faced in the daytime. Trust, and the alliance they would need to build on its foundations, could survive in plain sight. But at night, they would only see the shadows in each others' eyes.

"We must be able to work it out," Luisa said. "Somebody lured us here. There must be a reason."

"We have our work in common." Tarcisio gave her a sideways glance. "More or less. Creative industries. That's how they found us, after all."

"It can't just be a hatred for our professions," she countered. "There would be better ways. Sabotage a fashion show. Invite even more of us, and sink our boat on the way here. We're being hunted one by one. That feels far more personal."

"Perhaps Signor Cauriani isn't the first to work with all of us. Or, rather, perhaps we've all brushed paths with him before. Not together, but at different times. We must have some mutual clients."

"Or colleagues," Mona offered. "Our world is a small one. There has to be some overlap."

"So we could mark it out. Share a list of every job we've ever done, every place we've ever worked."

"For what?" She seemed exhausted by the thought. "How does that help us survive tonight? If there's a killer, they must be on this island, and I'm not sitting down to let them catch me playing at puzzles. We won't find them on paper. We'll find them in the flesh."

She took the lead on their search. First the kitchen, where she snatched a knife. For all his protests, Tarcisio didn't hesitate to follow suit. Only Luisa seemed reluctant, as if holding the proffered knife would make this somehow real; an escalation of what had been a thought experiment, one of the stories she wrote in her own time, into a brutal, grisly truth.

The next stop was Giuliana's room. Dusk had fallen against the tall windows, and Mona drew the curtains on the inside to match. Luisa flicked the light switch back and forth, but her efforts only earnt her a telling-off from Tarcisio.

"You'll blow the bulb," he said, striding to examine it; the shade was a scalloped design, the same lilac as the curtain. "Oh. Or not."

"What's wrong?"

"There isn't one." He turned back to face her. "Either the venue failed to provide one, or..."

"Somebody's removed it," she finished. "Before or after we were here."

Mona hadn't waited for the light, pouncing on an unpacked suitcase on the far side of the bed. The curtains were a lightweight fabric, and only added a purple hue to the last light of the day: that twilight gloom was just enough to work by, and she had spilled Giuliana's belonging out across the floor.

"She had an inhaler." It was held up as evidence. "Two inhalers, and some kind of breathing tube."

"She was asthmatic?"

"It seems so." Mona straightened up. "Strange to go on a run without them, right?"

"Unless it wasn't by choice." Tarcisio went over to survey the evidence for himself. "I'm assuming this is what killed her, right? Somebody startles her unawares, then chases her around the island until she has an asthma attack and dies. Hitting her head on the fall would just have been a bonus."

"They wouldn't even have needed to touch her," she agreed. "Isn't that how early humans used to hunt? I read something about that once. Persistence predators? Luisa, you must know this kind of-"

They turned to the author, but she had her eyes closed; a look of intense focus on her face.

"Oh, get a grip," Mona continued. "You've already seen her body. This is hardly worse than that."

"Not that - hang on." A raised hand appealed for silence. "Do you hear buzzing?"

They stood quietly for a moment, but the other two shook their heads.

"Maybe you've fried the electrical system," Tarcisio said. "I told you to go easy on that switch."

They headed on into an even darker corridor, which had been reclaimed by the shadows even as they lingered in Giuliana's room - eyes adjusting to the gloom, ears pricked for any sound of movement. But Luisa's appeal for silence had clearly passed, because she returned to her questioning of the killer's motive.

"It's not for money, that's for sure; for me, anyway. I don't think I have any ghosts in my past - and I'd know if I did, right? Is it possible to make somebody hate you, and not even know what you've done?"

"I add beauty to the world," Tarcisio said. "I can't think why anyone would want to hurt me. I certainly haven't hurt them."

"Ghosts are invisible," Mona added. "I'm sure I make a lot of people mad - jealous, mostly, including plenty of my so-called peers. But it's impossible to say who. They're the ones looking at me, not the other way around.

"Can we narrow it down, do you think? We're looking for someone who would want to hurt all of us; Davide and Giuliana too. For example, I grew up in Umbria."

"Tuscany."

"Palermo," Mona said. "But I studied in Milano, so I've been there from a pretty young age."

"Me too." They both looked to Luisa.

"Firenze," she said. "Never lived in Milano, sorry. That feels quite general, anyway; you must have met hundreds of people there. We need to find a smaller intersection."

"What if there's no motive at all?" Tarcisio suggested. "Like I said, I can't see why I would have been targeted. Who's to say I was?"

"Congratulations on leading such a perfect life," Mona replied, her tone making clear that she could definitely see why someone would wish him harm. "But you're here, the same as us, no better or worse. We're all in the same boat. We all came here in it."

"But what if that's because I'm vulnerable?" he asked. "Giuliana was an easy victim, as we've just found out. Davide had his allergy. I'm... well, I didn't mention this earlier, but I have severe photosensitive epilepsy."

"As a photographer?"

"Yes, yes, I've heard all the comments. How ironic, etcetera. No, I don't use the flash. That's why I always shoot in daylight. Yes, I'm sure it's very amusing for you, but this is my passion. Why shouldn't I get to follow my dreams?"

"And you didn't think to mention this earlier?" Luisa asked.

"It wasn't relevant, was it? We spoke about allergies at dinner, you and Davide, but it wasn't until we found the inhalers..."

"I have allergies too," Mona said, her voice as quiet as it had been since arrival.

"You?" As if attached to some counterbalance, Luisa had never been more incredulous. "After all you mocked Davide earlier..."

"Not to food, idiot. To aspirin. You don't need to check for that in ingredients."

"You might here," Tarcisio said, stepping between them. He seemed like he'd resolved more than a few conflicts on set. "So what now?"

"I'm not staying here for the corridors to fill with bees," Luisa resolved. "Especially not in the dark. Why don't we lock the doors, barricade ourselves in our respective rooms, and regroup in the morning, or until the search party arrives. In fact, let's swap rooms, in case of any tailored traps."

"Sounds good to me," Mona said, for once in agreement. They each moved as if to walk away, but Tarcisio remained in the middle.

"It's not the dark I'm afraid of," he reminded them, raising his knife. "Can somebody help me fashion a blindfold? If they've taken the bulbs from some of the rooms, who knows what they've done with them. I don't want to wake to strobe lights against my window."

"I'd just be happy to wake at all." Luisa turned to Mona. "You studied fashion, right? Can you rustle something up? I don't want to stay here a moment more than we have to."

"Sure, it's not exactly hard to tie a knot. You run off to bed."

"Tarcisio, are you okay with that?" She gave a pointed glance to the even pointier knives. "Being left alone?"

"I think I'm going to have to trust her" he said, catching her meaning. Being alone wasn't the problem. He waited for Luisa to head on back up the corridor, then addressed Mona directly. "Do you want me to return the favour? I can keep my eyes closed together, but you'll need to eat at some point. Or drink, given that's what did it for Davide. Who knows what they can put in the water."

"You want to be me poison taster?" She seemed to find the idea amusing. "I'll be your eyes, you be my mouth?"

"That would seem a sensible arrangement - even if it is a bit like the blind leading the... is there a word for people without taste?"

"Men?"

Mona affixed the rudimentary blindfold, and guided Tarcisio towards the rooms. If Luisa had mixed it up by taking his, disco lights or not, Mona figured she would take the room assigned to Luisa, interested to look through her clothes, and let him have hers. That would be enough to scramble any of the killer's preparations - although if one of them was guilty, they'd all know the new layout by now.

"It's funny," he said. "Now I hear the buzzing. Maybe it's something to do with the eyes being covered, you know? Other senses compensating."

"No, I hear it too." It seemed to be coming from Luisa's old room. A constant humming sound. Mona stepped forward to crack open the door, but Tarcisio grasped for her arm.

"Don't. What if that's part of the trap for one of us?" He let go as she did. "No more exploring, please. We just need to hole up somewhere safe, and wait there for our rescue."

"What about Luisa?" Her concern was almost surprising. "Do you think this means she's safe - or could they have more bees elsewhere?"

"We can't know until the morning, but hopefully she'll just stay holed up too. No doubt making a list of everyone she's every met, for us to cross-check over breakfast."

"Do you want me to take you to my room? I assume they can't pump aspirin into the air, so I shouldn't be as prone to traps as the two of you. Until that breakfast, anyway."

"That sounds good," Tarcisio said, although his voice didn't. With the blindfold on, he was wholly reliant on her, and entirely at her mercy. Heading to the room with all of her luggage would only make that imbalance worse. But what could he say? "Anywhere out of these corridors."

They kept walking, making slow progress with the occasional nudge of his arm as a guide. It may have just been because she'd mentioned something in the air, but his mouth felt dry with nerves. Even Mona had to stop and cough at times, once quite badly, and he felt the need to ask if she was okay.

"All fine," she said, after a pause, although her voice sounded affected. It might have been an irritated throat, but the accent was more like Luisa's. "In fact, the coast is clear, if you want to take your blindfold off. I can help you with that."

"Mona?" he asked, taking a step back.

"She's here," Luisa said. "On the floor. To your right."

"Dead?"

"Yes, but don't worry - I gave her a little something for the pain."

"You're the killer." The accusation felt redundant, given that he was very nearly a witness to the latest death, but she denied it anyway.

"Oh, no, that was poor Giuliana. She set this whole thing up, you see. Angelo Cauriana is an anagram for her name, Giuliana Nocera, as none of you seemed to notice. And here I thought models liked looking at reflections."

"An anagram?" There was too much to get his head round.

"Just about. Her parents could have chosen an easier name for me. So many vowels! I almost copped out with an initial, Raoul A. Cengiani, but that rather gives the game away."

"But, if it was Giuliana - she was the first to die?"

"We found her first, that's true, but the police will see her as the last. Fleeing the scene of her crimes, you see. That's if they even solve that little puzzle - it's a shame Mona didn't want to try working this out, I was intrigued to see how you'd both get on. Ideally they'd write all of this off as a series of tragic accidents, but I suspect they'd rather have a murderer to take the fall. So to speak."

She walked away as she spoke, and he paced towards her, not wanting to lose his sense of where she was. In front of him, he'd have a chance: a knife in his hand, and better reach. But if he lost her, she could appear behind him at any point, or flicker a torch at him from a distance. He'd been able to tell her off with the light switch, but he didn't think she'd listen anymore.

As promised, there was a shape by his right foot. Tarcisio risked a peek: he was cautious of potential traps, but knew he was just as vulnerable blind, and Luisa wouldn't expect him to be looking now. They seemed to be heading back out towards the French doors; to where Giuliana's body was. To where Luisa had seen her die.

"But she was innocent," he protested.

"Oh yes. Tragically so. The best patsies often are." Blindfold back in place, he kept following her voice - and it kept getting fainter. "The real blame goes to your friend Mona Musso. She took something from me, you see - in one night she's probably forgotten. My partner of five years. My happiness. My life."

Tarcisio's mind fell to the body on the floor. It looked like Luisa had taken Mona's life, not the other way around. "So this was all about her? Why the rest of us? I had nothing to do with any affair."

"I wanted to even things out," she continued, not acknowledging the question. "But I knew people like Mona never hurt just once. She would have other victims, a trail of lives ruined in her self-absorbed wake. Enter poor Giuliana. She was a runner, ironically. Mona got her fired from a set."

"I've never worked with Mona before. Believe me, I'd remember."

"Yes - you would, wouldn't you?" She seemed to have paused, so Tarcisio stopped as well. He didn't dare to lift the blindfold for another peek, but he could feel the evening air on the rest of his face. "Giuliana, on the other hand... who remembers the runners? They only exist to keep the talent happy. You've worked with her; all of you had. That was easy enough for me to find out. I'm sure that the police won't find it too challenging."

"So that's our connection. A colleague in common." There had been nothing to link him to Mona, or Davide. Their other similarities had just been like filling a line-up, to hide the true target. Luisa had found a single link with Giuliana, and just fanned out on that axis. "What if one of us had recognised her?"

"I doubted it. She seemed the type to fade into the backdrop - and you're all about backdrops, aren't you?" Luisa spoke with venom, as if she'd been looked over in the same way. They'd probably done that on this trip. "But even if you did, you'd have assumed what you guessed anyway: that she was working as a runner again, for Signor Cauriani, here to feed you and make you comfortable."

"So that's my crime? Overlooking her?"

"I have no idea what passed between you," Luisa said. "Only that she'd worked for you. But if this was going to be Giuliana's grand revenge, I needed to spread the weight. We can't leave all the focus on Mona, much as she might like that. I might be the prime suspect there, if our link came to light. But have her take down a group of you, all with the same connection to her? It's the only explanation."

"But why me, specifically? I don't think I did her any harm. She must have worked with hundreds of people."

"Oh, you worked that one out for yourself! You're epileptic, remember. That was the one thing I found out about Mona. Her allergies. A murder weapon, gifted just like that. That was the seed of this entire plan. If I could find other people I could kill without touch, Giuliana would have the chance to build her trap."

"And invite only the vulnerable prey?"

"Exactly. No suggestion that you all hurt her, so I wouldn't worry about your reputation for adding beauty to the world. They'll probably say she snapped, turned against the whole industry, and just wanted to take down whoever she could. An equal and opposite allergic reaction."

Tarcisio's head was spinning. So he and Davide hadn't been targeted at all: just chosen for having something shared with the victim. A piece of rotten luck. They'd been searching for a victim demographic, a reason they'd be targeted together, but it had been Mona all along. She was the demographic, and they shared this overlap. Although Luisa had as well. "And where do you fit in, with the bee allergy? Is this to be a murder-suicide?"

"Bee allergy? I just said that to fit in, silly. I'm not really allergic to anything; except models, I'm learning. Just as I never received an invitation, and arrived here on my own steam; a dinghy I stashed down on the other side of the island. I have no part in Giuliana's plot, I'm sorry to say. The boatman she hired will be back for her in the morning, but I'll be long gone by then."

"After inducing a seizure, I take it." He knew they were outside. How quickly could he run to the shoreline? If he got ahead of her, it didn't matter if she had the brightest torch in the world, short of a flash-bang grenade to throw. The darkness wouldn't help him find the boat, but if he could... "But tell me more about-"

He sank to his knees, which only made the pain worse. A knife - Mona's knife - had gone through the back of his leg, and the muscle had crumpled under his weight.

"Oh do try to run, please," Luisa said, as she removed the blindfold carefully from his eyes. "That would sell the story so well, limping on to the coast. You can even use this as a tourniquet, if you like. Not that it will do enough to stop the blood. Arteries are so very fragile."

"I don't understand," Tarcisio whimpered, blinking up at her. Her face was a silhouette against the night. "I thought- you said-"

"That you would die by your vulnerabilities?" He nodded, biting back the pain. She had been right: the blood was flowing thick and fast. It was pooled on the paving slaps beneath him; there was another mound not far away, with another pool beneath it. He wondered if they would merge. "Ah, but that would have been far too neat. Giuliana had to die as well, remember! She couldn't have carried this off without a hitch. Somebody had to defy her, and try to escape."

"You've made it look like she stabbed me? From behind?"

"Exactly. You thought she'd fallen, at first, right? Or been pushed? That she was being chased?"

"Right. But then we found her medication..."

"Which I'll clean away, the same as yours," Luisa said smoothly. "Better not to link her to the victim pool. But it's funny how things work out, isn't it? Just this afternoon, you were following the tracks, wondering who had chased her from the beach. But it turns out she was chasing you."

[papesatan]

ritratto della villa in fiamme

Di quest’ira torrenziale che mi scatena morsi a vuoto, riesco a liberarmi solo scrivendo (mancando altra preda bendisposta allo squarcio), è un gioco in cui strazio solo me stesso, ed è bene così. Ciò che è male è che mi sfoghi sui ragazzi, quando non hanno colpa alcuna all’infuori di stupidera e malavoglia, che sia duro con amici e dipendenti, che non sappia più l’arresa tenerezza. C’è un’immagine che m’ossessiona ormai da tempo, un sogno nato dalle notti del buon Angelo: un viaggio notturno con una misteriosa ragazza salda alla guida su tornanti di montagna dissestati, scossoni, sobbalzi e morte certa, ma colmi di sorrisi d’animo sereno. Giunti vivi a destinazione, un rustico villino di campagna, la ragazza lo prende radiosa per mano, mentre la casa va malamente a fuoco. Un bacio dolce e vivo di fulgida passione li serra l'uno all'altra, la casa in fiamme. D’amor distesi, si ritirano allor gli sposi, lucendo occhi negli occhi, verso le macerie d'un incendio impietoso, cinereo ricordo d'una villa in fumo. Angelo vorrebbe farci un film, qualcosa alla Charlie Kaufman, e lo ammetto, sarebbe una bella scena. Non so se significhi per lui la stessa cosa. So che per me significa molto. E sogno del suo sogno giorno e notte.  

[gacougnol]

Angelo Dimango

Villa di Trani

Puglia

[francescosatanassi]

L'ORSO CHE COMBATTEVA I NAZISTI

A Forlì, lungo viale dell’Appennino, tra Ca’Ossi e San Martino in Strada, c’è ancora oggi un edificio noto come Villa Gesuita. Alla fine dell’800 il palazzo era stato acquistato dal tenore Angelo Masini, ai tempi già famoso e ricchissimo. Durante gli anni ’40, il custode della villa era Enea Barzanti che assieme alla moglie e alle figlie, Isotta e Ivana, vide diversi schieramenti occupare la villa: i tedeschi, i polacchi, i gurkha, di nuovo i polacchi e infine gli inglesi. Ivana, intervistata nel 2019, raccontò una cosa che molti hanno dimenticato: “Una mattina arrivarono i polacchi e montarono le tende nel cortile, con loro c’era un orso enorme che legarono a un albero con una catena.” Ma quell'orso non era un orso qualunque, il suo nome era Wojtek ed era a tutti gli effetti un soldato. Nel marzo del '43, mentre l’armata polacca si stava addestrando nel nord dell’Iraq per poi essere impiegata in Italia a fianco degli inglesi, due soldati incontrarono un ragazzo curdo che aveva con sé un cucciolo d’orso. Wojtek fu subito adottato dalla Compagnia diventando una specie di mascotte. I soldati gli insegnano la lotta e anche il saluto militare. Il giorno della partenza, però, ci si accorse che Wojtek non poteva salpare. Le regole di reclutamento britanniche erano chiare: soltanto i soldati potevano salire a bordo di una nave militare. Così, l’orso fu ufficialmente arruolato come soldato semplice e assegnato alla 22ª Compagnia Rifornimenti di Artiglieria. Alto ormai due metri e pesante 250 kg, Wojtek aiutò a trasportare le casse di munizioni durante diversi combattimenti, tra i quali la battaglia di Cassino, e per il suo coraggio fu promosso a caporale. Per celebrarlo, la 22° Compagnia adottò un distintivo che lo ritrae mentre trasporta un grosso proiettile. Lo stemma fu dipinto anche sui veicoli militari. Wojtek viveva con i suoi commilitoni, mangiava e dormiva con loro, masticava il tabacco e si dice amasse la birra. Assieme a lui, l’esercito polacco entrò a Predappio, a Forlì, a Brisighella e a Faenza. Dopo il conflitto, il 15 novembre 1947, il suo reparto fu smobilitato e Wojtek fu trasferito allo zoo di Edimburgo. Morì il 2 dicembre 1963, all’età di 21 anni.

[comprate--na--personalita]

A Norrkoping vedevo il fiume scorrere a picco sotto le finestre della camera. Ogni sera sognavo di essere con te a dormire tra le lenzuola morbide di quel letto in questa stanza con le pareti rosse, rosse come la Villa dei Misteri a Pompei. Nella notte Il fiume -  nero come lo Stige - mi guardava cupo. Mi sdraiavo nel letto enorme e immaginavo che tu fossi lì con me, che fossimo insieme.  Noi che non abbiamo mai fatto l’amore in un letto.

We ‘ll meet again, ci rincontreremo amore mio. Non so dove non so precisamente quando ma ci rincontreremo amore mio ancora spero per sempre.

Prenderemo un caffè davanti al fiume spizzicando cetrioli e tu mi sorriderai sotto le ampie falde del tuo cappello azzurro parlando col tuo perfetto accento italiano e la tua terribile grammatica tedesca. E la voce di un angelo.

Io ti bacerò fino a perdere il respiro. E tu sorriderai, forse, di nuovo, come sempre.

[lucaf2019]

Villa Paraìso e Punta Sayulita Nayarit, Messico (2/2)

📷 Angelo Pennetta, Vogue US, giugno 2015

[takiisieju]

PORNPO, Chapter 1: Naples' finest on your plate

Characters: Polpo, Camilla Carota, Pauletta Pera, Anna Anguria, Maria Mora Pairing: none Content: SFW (but every other part of the fic isn't) Words: 2335 Taglist: @roofgeese @poisonedtruth @theelderhazelnut

The introduction.

Info about the girls

Link to AO3

I post chapters as I write them, not chronologically.

This is not a crack fic. Any fatphobic comments and negativity are banned here.

Sample under cut.

Ah, finally, the work day’s hardships were over. Granted, most of these hardships were simply moved to become Buccellati’s hardships… Still, Polpo felt like he deserved a treat. Maybe even a snack. Or perhaps, an entire second lunch.

The personal chef that had tried to poison him was dealt with last week, poor fellow shrinked and fed to his own cat, so now the only thing Polpo had while looking for a replacement were delivery services. Thank god there were still couriers and restaurants he could trust. Still, losing the cook was a pity. The capo had only hoped that his new job advertisement could fill this hole in his heart.

Said advertisement was made just a day after Risotto, god bless his striped clown soul, dealt with the cook’s hirer and spent a good hour going back and forth about the payment he deemed inadequate. Polpo, on the other hand, had always considered himself exceptionally generous, and still, the lack of people desiring to be his house servants was as apparent as Risotto’s rage as he left the villa cursing under his breath. The former, however, could be explained by the rumors that have filled every corner of Naples the second the job ad was given.

Polpo liked art. Truth be told, he liked all things aesthetically pleasing. He liked his painting collection, his many blooming houseplants, and he liked to be surrounded by people that would fit his impeccable interior design just as well as his vases and statuettes did. The common filthy lot, however, didn’t understand his motives, and so the people of Naples were convinced that he wanted…

“A harem!” Polpo thought, somberly chewing on his second pizza. “What nonsense. I am a gentleman!”

Alas, the rumors were unstoppable. Everybody was convinced that the reason Polpo wanted only young pretty women as his house servants was because this “gluttonous freak” now thought himself some kind of a sultan. It wasn’t the worst thing people ever said about him, and Polpo was glad the Boss couldn’t care less about public opinion.

Suddenly, Polpo heard a knock on the door. He swallowed the remaining pizza, wiped his mouth with a gigantic napkin and, moving the plates to the side table, allowed the person to come in. Naturally, it was Raphael, his bodyguard and, lately, sort of a butler.

“The applicants, capo,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “Four of them. The fifth changed her mind midway through the corridor.”

“Four? How very lucky…” Polpo sighed. Well, the afternoon nap will have to wait.

Raphael came closer, handing his boss the application dossiers and taking away the plates.

“Let’s see.” Polpo hummed, scanning the pages. “Uh-huh… Well, I see no reason to make them wait. Call in one Camilla Carota, would you?”

Raphael nodded, disappearing behind the thick wooden door, and Polpo heard his cackling, shared with Angelo, from the waiting room behind it. Polpo sighed. Raphael was extremely lucky that his stand abilities were more valuable to Polpo than his own pride.

“Just wait until I cut your salary down,” Polpo thought, marking it in his tiny notebook.

[aesthetelabel]

Interiors - Intended to serve as Milan’s “It” party pad, Villa Necchi Campiglio was deliberately designed for receiving guests (and wowing them every step of the way). The veranda was often the first stop for visitors, setting the tone for wonderment and excitement of the all that’s still to come. Relatively young by European standards, the villa was built between 1932 and 1935 by Milanese architect Piero Portaluppi for sewing-machine tycoon Angelo Campiglio, his wife, Gigina, and her sister Nedda Necchi. The travertine floors intermix with green marble creating a simple ground weave, complementing the juxtaposed viridescent furnishings and lapis hues. The home, which now serves as a museum with guided tours, has been pristinely preserved from the time Necchi and Campiglio inhabited its storied halls. Read more at https://www.1stdibs.com/blogs/the-study/villa-necchi-campiglio-tour/?amp Inspiration for our upcoming vintage collection ‘Européen Moderne’ coming soon Sign up to our newsletter at aesthetelabel.com to be informed of new products and collections . . . . Photography @enna.h #vintage #european #parisian #antiques #brocante #antiquities #spain #europeanvintage #french #midcentury #europeanceramics #cottagecore #midcentury #oldandnew #diy #vintagestyle #vintagehome #interiordesign #interiordesigner #interiors #stylist #styling #stylingvintage #home #homedecor #homedesign #homerenovation #akinderwayofliving #aesthetelabel #vegan #crueltyfreeinteriordesign https://www.instagram.com/p/ClEzN6aLv6y/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=