#Martino Fine Books

[wordacrosstime]

Limit Distributions for Sums of Independent Random Variables

[Limit Distributions for Sums of Independent Random Variables, by BV Gnedenko (Author), AN Kolmogorov (Author), KL Chung (Translator). Paperback (Reprint of the 1954 Edition) - 5 Aug 2021. Publisher - Martino Fine Books (5 Aug 2021). Language - English. Paperback - 276 pages. ISBN-10 - 1684225795. ISBN-13 - 978-1684225798. Dimensions - 15.6 x 1.57 x 23.39 cm. (details thanks to Amazon)]

[Author full names: Boris Vladimirovich Gnedenko (Russian: Бори́с Влади́мирович Гнеде́нко; 1 January 1912 – 27 December 1995); Andrey Nikolaevich Kolmogorov (Russian: Андре́й Никола́евич Колмого́ров, IPA: [ɐnˈdrʲej nʲɪkɐˈlajɪvʲɪtɕ kəlmɐˈɡorəf], 25 April 1903 – 20 October 1987) (details thanks to Wikipedia)]

***

A number of years ago I set about a course of self-improvement. For me that meant reading as much as possible from works written by world-class thinkers. This list of august minds was often, though not solely, driven by Nobel Prize winners and other winners of similar or equivalent awards in other areas (mathematics, for example, where the Fields Medal and Abel Prize are the highest honors). However, I am a statistician among other things, and so I have also kept a keen eye out for important works by the giants of that field.

I am not well-acquainted with Boris Gnedenko, though his name has certainly come up from time to time over the years that I’ve both studied and practiced statistics. The name that has come up repeatedly in reverential tones is Andrey Kolmogorov, who is one of a handful of mathematicians who are credited with giving the theoretical underpinnings of statistics a solid and rigorous mathematical foundation.

The volume under review here is one of Kolmogorov’s most important publications. In it, he and Gnedenko elicit the basis and application of results like the Central Limit Theorem (CLT) and the Law of Large Numbers (LLN). These are two of the most important results in all of statistics and probability theory and the slightly more general theory of stochastic (random) processes.

I should mention that this volume was originally published in the Soviet Union in 1949 in Russian. The edition I read here was translated into English in 1954 by KL Chung, and the actual ISBN citation is this particular reprint; there are others from different time periods, and of course if one is a true purist, then one should definitely read the original Russian text. However, according to the preface, all of the formulas and other special figures in the text are actually photostats from the original monograph.

I really enjoyed this book. The writing style of Gnedenko and Kolmogorov is delightfully lofty and at times quite flowery, but their explanations of proofs and motivations for results are really first-rate. I wasn’t sure what to expect, given the high intellectual bar these gentlemen set, but I was very pleasantly surprised. Professor Chung, the translator, added quite a few helpful comments and clarifications where appropriate, but overall he seems to have let the book flow as it was originally set down. One of the Appendices was written by another legendary statistician, JL Doob, providing a bit of bridge material related to some measure-theoretic issues that arise in Chapter 1.

My only complaint (a very small one to be sure) is that there were a number of typos that remained intact despite the extensive editorial review this monograph has surely had over the past 70+ years. I wouldn’t exactly call it a super-power, but I personally seem to have a knack for finding typos and grammatical errors in even very technical material. I’ve taken photos of two of the ones I found early in the text as examples here (see below). For some reason my eye was instinctively drawn to these and others. I would thus advise the reader to pause if something seems slightly amiss – it very well might be. I’m happy to say that these errata were few and far between, and in no case do I recall them rendering the explanations or results indecipherable.

Who would enjoy this tome? Anyone who is interested in the theoretical basis for many of the classic results in modern non-Bayesian statistics. The foreword by the translator advises that a solid background in calculus is a must, and mathematical maturity a definite plus. Beyond that, the book itself is remarkably self-contained. This is likely due to the political environment in which it was written. Post-World War II was a difficult time for Soviet intellectuals since they were generally denied access to journals and results outside their own country.

Here are the two examples of typos that I detected early in the book – I think they speak for themselves, but you can be the judge:

[Image credits numbered from top: (1 & 2) two pages from the book photographed by reviewer- with thanks to © publishers and estates of authors. (3 & 4) book cover front and back - with thanks to © publishers (5) Boris Vladimirovich Gnedenko - with thanks, no details of © copyright holder / photographer known (6) Andrey Nikolaevich Kolmogorov - with thanks, no details of © copyright holder / photographer known]

Kevin Gillette

Words Across Time

12 January 2024

wordsacrosstime

[sexilene]

I FEIN FOR A FULL FIC ABOUT PRINCESS!READER WRITTING IN HER DIRAY S'SO CUTE LIKE

yeesss OFC!! ignore any mistakes sorrriii ˚ ༘✶ ｡˚ ⁀➷ princess!reader w - mentions of sex, p in v, rafe making it up to you through sleepy sex!!

your nighttime self-care routine sometimes included needing to write in your diary the things you wouldn't dare say out loud. you sat on your side of the bed with the dim warm light illuminating the room while rafe took a shower. often doing all your skincare, shower stuff, and oral care before rafe so that after you can let it all marinate before sleeping. you grab your pink fluffy pen from your nightstand to start your journaling. 

dear diary, today was so totally not great, rafe ended up leaving me this morning to play golf with the boys even after he promised to take me to martino's to get some tea cakes that i've been craving for the past week!! AND on top of that, i missed a hair appointment since rafe had the car all day and he's like my boyfriend chauffeur!! this blows!! i hate him and he will not be given kisses or sex until further notice. 

rafe walks out of the bathroom, with a towel around his waist, his hair all wet, and droplets of water running down his muscles. the view almost makes you forget why you were pissed at him in the first place, but then you quickly snap out of it when you remember you are supposed to be "ranting" in your diary. 

"whatcha doin'?" rafe asks, making you look over at him, he's put on some comfy pajama pants and sat down on his side of the bed, leaning over to look at what you are writing. 

"i'm doing self-care, it's my de-stress diary." 

"why do you need a diary? that's what i'm here for, tell your secrets to me." he shrugs and leans closer to really read what's on the pages. 

"nuh uh, somethings i would say aren't lady-like." you bring the diary to your chest to prevent him from reading it. 

"hey, lemme see. i'm basically entitled to read your diary, it's a boyfriend's right."

"no baby that's just an invasion of privacy." you giggle which makes him huff.

"okay well we promised no secrets, so give it here." he reaches for the diary, you roll your eyes and give up, handing it to him. 

"fine, but i should not be held accountable for what i wrote, its girl stuff."

"aww shit baby, i forgot about martino's, i'm sorry," he remembers as he beings to read what you wrote. "no sex or kisses until further notice? that's fuckin' ridiculous kid." he furrows his eyebrows while he's reading. 

"mm-hmm, it's not like you'd notice anyways since you've been so "busy" recently." you exaggerate and roll your eyes.

"don't roll your eyes at me, fix your attitude." he points at you scoldingly which only makes you pout and reach for the diary again. 

"if you think you really need this then fine, but no more talking shit about me in there. use your words." he closes the little book and hands it back to you. 

"i did." 

"you know what i mean." 

"i can't say it to your face." you shake your head and place the diary on your nightstand. 

"yes, you can." he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, your back to his bare chest. 

"you smell really good." you sigh, wishing you could just give in and climb on top of him.

"thank you, baby. so do you." he kisses your bare shoulder, slipping down the thin strap of your silky nightgown. 

"but i'm still mad at you."

"rant to me then."

you sigh again, "you forgot that today was supposed to be our day, you suck and if you really loved me you wouldn't have done that." you exaggerate again. 

"i know princess, i know, and i'm sorry but i do love you so don't even start." your boyfriend chides, look back at him and he takes the opportunity to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

"no rafe, no kissing."

"don't be brat, i'll make it up to you. take you to martino's first thing tomorrow and i'll take you to do your hair, how'bout i fuck you to sleep nice n' slow right now? hmm?" he places his hand on the side of your face to bring you closer so he can press a kiss to your cheek. 

"mmhm ohkay, be gentle." you nod, rafe just grins and attacks you with soft kisses all over your lips, jaw and neck.

"just relax baby, lay down i'll do all the work." rafe extends his arm to reach over to your nightstand light to turn it off, now the only light coming in is the moonlight streaming in through the balcony windows. you lay back against the mattress, head hitting the pillows and rafe lifts the thin dress above your hips. never really wearing panties under your nightgown while you sleep, he rubs your bare pussy with the pads of two of his big fingers. rafe pulls himself out, also not wearing any boxers under the plaid pajama pants to sleep, and lines himself up to slowly push in, you wine and dig your nails into his biceps. 

"shshsh....you're fine." your boyfriend soothes as he begins to slowly and gently stretch you out, giving you a few wet kisses on your neck. the way he smells and feels on top of you makes you feel so warm and sleepy, that your eyes begin to fall closed as he thrusts into you very softly.

"i love you," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck to make you feel closer to him even though he's balls deep inside you right now. 

"i love you more princess, jus' fall asleep, i've got you."

[paingoes]

Destroyer - Thorns

(Masterlist)

(Content: physical abuse, verbal abuse, living weapon whump, degredation, dehumanization)

Weeks passed, the majority of them spent upon the freshly mobilized battleship. Paris had named it Thorn, but in every briefing it was translated to “Splinter”. He’d wanted to move away as quickly as possible, but the ship was being pulled back into the bay for repairs every other day. The typical ambiance of the active craft was now frequently punctuated by the sound of construction. It grew worse by the day, just as bad for the passengers as it was for their enemies. Paris learned to sleep through the depressurization alarms.

Delta was adjusting to the new space. His new room was smaller than his previous one, but it was still spacious. Beyond that, he was often allowed to leave it. Paris said he wanted to know where Delta was all hours of the day, in theory, but he often so busy he forgot to check up. It was the most freedom of moment Delta had been given in a long time. He walked the ship’s floors silently, haunting it. The people aboard know who he was and they left him alone. He was glad.

When they did eventually get the ship up and running, capable of more than sprints, most of the crew had already been debriefed on the new management. Delta had received training from the maid service in some basic housekeeping tasks, such as cooking, cleaning, and sewing. For some reason, this greatly upset both his handlers. Simon saw it as a waste of Delta’s time, while Martino saw it as undignified for his rank. The latter confused Delta; it was the only time the doctor ever seemed to care about his dignity. Nevertheless, they convinced Paris that it wasn’t right for Delta to be used as some interchangeable staff. Paris relented, agreeing that Delta would only serve him and his court, keeping all things within the dynasty.

The upshot of this was that Delta spent a lot more time in proximity of Paris - and was kept under much closer watch. Paris did not always need or even want him around, but much of Delta’s day was structured around this arrangement. By the first month, they’d settled into a tentative schedule.

When Paris didn’t have any mission in mind, which was most days, Delta was dismissed to go train. He’d find Dr.Martino, who would run the first round of tests on him, checking vitals and his blood chemistry, seeing how conductive his veins were to the electricity that pulsed through them. Then, he got passed onto Simon to run drills.

The psionic drills had to be done in a closed environment. On the ship, they had to go for low intensity, so as not to cause damage to the hull. But Simon made up for it, forcing Delta to do high-precision and high-focus work. An exercise that Simon had grown very fond of was having Delta stick blades into the walls, arranging them in different shapes. It required him to focus and manipulate dozens of blades at once and move them independently, without causing them to crash into each other. It also required forceful stabbing, which was a good skill to have at that point.

It wasn’t the kind of outburst that would cause him to faint, but it did exhaust him. Simon would force him to go at it for several hours, stopping at his own leisure, never Delta’s. He’d only be released in the late afternoon. Before, Simon would take the time to tutor him, but now lacked both the resources and the energy. He still gave Delta any books he thought he would need, which would have been fine if he had the time to read them. Delta barely had enough time to eat before Paris would summon him again.

Paris called him into his room or into his office. He’d order Delta to kneel and keep him there most of the night. If Paris was busy, Delta would sit in silence, nothing more than an ornament for the room. Paris would smack him if he fidgeted too much, but that was all.

“I should make you wear a bell,” He joked whenever Delta couldn’t hold still. Delta, of course, did not see the point of this. It was on nights where Paris had nothing better to do that he got his explanation.

On slow nights, Paris would rake his fingers through Delta’s hair, placing them at the base of his neck. Delta shivered at the touch, which would only cause Paris to tighten his grasp. Paris looked over him like he was an insect, a mix of contempt and curiosity. His voice was low.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Delta didn’t respond, which was all the confirmation Paris needed. He took a fistful of Delta’s hair, yanking him closer. He tsked, “There’s that fucking face again. Admit it. You think you’re too good for this.”

Delta winced. There was no answer Paris would accept; he knew that. The whole point of this was to break him down. “I do, yeah,” Delta admitted, seconds before Paris smacked his head into the desk.

“Fuck,” Delta muttered to himself. Paris kicked him onto his back, not even moving from his desk chair.

“I knew it,” Paris smirked, crossing his legs, “It’s okay, though. It doesn’t matter what you think. You’re an object. The way you feel about your position has no bearing at all on the way you’ll act. You’re still gonna do what I say, right? Or I’ll have to remind you how this works?”

Delta rubbed his head, not looking at him. Stupid. Just an exercise in futility. He never needed reminding, never had. He couldn’t tell if the prince was actually that insecure or if he was just messing with him. It did not come off as a serious exchange. Paris was nothing like his father.

“Sit back up and fucking answer me,” Paris said.

Delta crawled back onto his knees. “Yes, Your Highness,” he answered wearily. Paris moved to slap him again and he flinched.

Paris withdrew his hand.

“Good. You’re dismissed.” He nodded. After a minute, he added. “Go put ice on that, I don’t want your face to swell.” .

“Yes, Your Highness,” Delta got to his feet, lightheaded. He brushed his hair back into place, sparing no further looks.

[butchers-broom]

Hesse, H. (1919). Demian: The Story of a Youth (11th ed.). Martino Fine Books.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 11 December 1952

Well, we are getting towards Christmas. Will we see Christmas music? Will we heck. Apparently that is not yet how we roll in 1952. Not for another week. That said, the first song (of only two) is good solid party banger.

Come A-Long A-Love - Kay Starr (Peaked at No 1)

I already knew this song, I already like it, but re-listening in the context of all of last week's soupy ballads really gives this a special something. It's fast! It's catchy! It's got metaphors, but they're actually good!

Kay Starr also has some serious pipes. I love her voice here, there are so many little technical things that are good about it, from the slight growl on some of the "Comes along a love" refrain, to the vibrato on the penultimate words of some lines, to the way she drops down onto some of the notes. Somebody who properly does singing could probably tell you more technically what those are - I just enjoy it.

Her voice isn't quite like the other female voices we've heard. It's not trained like Vera Lynn's, and it's not got that restrained, sexy smoulder of Jo Stafford. Doris Day maybe comes closest, but it's not the same thing. She's almost giving Al Martino a run for his money, but it's better - more lively, more vibrant, more tongue in cheek.

It's a song about the feeling of being in love, sung from Kay Starr to some man, so it's distanced from having to be about her being in love, and I think that makes it work? If she was singing about herself, she couldn't be as eloquent, or she'd have to be sappier, but this can be her observing the effects of love on a third party, and it lets her get specific about it without falling into cliché or lameness.

At the same time, it's just super jazzy - the excitement of falling in love is tangible in the music itself, with these brassy stabs at the end of lines, and a bassline that doesn't let up underpinning it all.

And - contrary to almost every other romantic song yet - the description of being in love is neither cliché nor lame! It's apparently by Al Sherman, a Tin Pan Alley songwriter, and to be fair, I could see this doing well on broadway. It's also got a tune stolen from Rossini. A fine pedigree.

I want to quote half of this song. I love the catalogue of effects, how when you're in love "every dream you had becomes ignited", "though you never sang you're always singing", "chimes you never heard began a-ringing", "you sparkle and you bubble, see each bluebird double", "petty things no longer phase you", "you discover things that just amaze you". It's a fabulous description of feeling on top of the world in ways you haven't felt before.

The best and quirkiest effect, though? "Night and day your heart is highland flinging". Such a clever, fun line!

And then the line that sums all of them up: "You just began to live". Which is what all that is, isn't it?

And Kay just sounds so cheeky on the "look out, you gotta whole lotta trouble" line. Like, yes, love is great, but this man is in over his head.

It doesn't overstay its welcome or slow down at the end either. Instead, we get two lines that change the rhythm and speed into an ending that actually makes me think of Bobby Darin's Mack the Knife. I'm not sure if that stands up to musical scrutiny, but in terms of vibe, at least.

Strongly recommend everybody to listen to this one. Catchy, likeable, stylish, kind of cute.

Zing a Little Zong - Bing Crosby and Jane Wyman (10)

Will I write an essay on this one, too? No, but it's cute, still.

The title already tells you that it's going to be cutesy and probably a bit novelty. In fact, it's our first novelty number. It makes them sound like they're from Somerset, but no, they're just Americans being silly (zilly?)

It starts with a spoken countdown, which is always good in my book. "A-one, a-two" and then some scatting - you can't do much better than that.

Basically, he loves her and she makes him want to sing - and then the song metaphor gets pushed and pushed and pushed, with her suggesting that they could get up side by side and "we could a very clever bit of close harmony", which is an oblique double entendre, but it is definitely suggesting... something.

Some unexpected lyrics, probably to keep the Z quirk alive. I don't think anybody predicted that the lyric "We're not by the Zuider Zee" was coming. This, combined with the mentions of Wiener Schnitzel and noodles and strudel and "let's dutch it up a little" made me think this would be from a film about Europe, but apparently not?

It is from a film, but it's a musical comedy about a vaudeville performer from New York. It's called Just for You, and it involves Bing's screen son falling for Bing's girlfriend (Jane Wyman) while his daughter ends up in night court with their governess and then goes to finishing school (?). Films from this period are clearly just built different.

Both performers are good, and have understood the assignment, peppering the song with little "ooh"s and "oh no"s and phrases like "you're a dolly and a dilly". It's quirky and cute, and doesn't outstay its welcome, or drag. It has charmed me more than I thought it would, in a harmless old-fashioned way. It feels like something my grandad would sing around his house.

Just two songs today, and they were both great! I think I much prefer faster songs. They're just a lot more forgiving - a bad fast song is at least over fast, a bad slow song really drags. And neither of these were bad songs, either, which is a win. Give either a listen, and you will probably not be disappointed!

Favourite song of the bunch: Comes A-Long A-Love

[twh-news]

‘Loki’ Breakout Sophia Di Martino on Loki’s Coming Out and Tom Hiddleston’s Famous Lecture | Variety

When Sophia Di Martino first auditioned for the Disney Plus series “Loki,” it was in September 2019. A working actor since 2004, the British native has appeared on several British TV series, including “Flowers” and “Election Spy,” and she had supporting role in the 2019 film “Yesterday,” but she hadn’t ever quite landed the breakout role that could move her career to a larger stage.

Enter Sylvie. Introduced at the end of Episode 2 the Marvel Studios “Loki,” she is a “variant” of Tom Hiddleston’s beloved god of mischief, someone who had the same inception point as Loki but whose life unfolded much differently. In Episode 3, Sylvie and Loki spend pretty much the entire hour getting to know each other — and making clear just how critical Sylvie is to the larger story.

Naturally, this kind of role is a massive opportunity, which made how Di Martino ultimately landed it even more shocking to her.

“It was the shortest casting experience I think I’ve ever had,” she says with bewilderment. “I did an audition tape with a very short scene. I wasn’t asked to do it again, and I couldn’t meet anyone because I was heavily pregnant at the time and I couldn’t travel. Tom was in the U.S., everyone else was in the U.S. So we didn’t get to screen test or anything. So I just got the job on the back of this tape, which never happens, and especially with a job like this! It was extremely quick and quite surprising to all involved. Me and my agent were both like, ‘Really? Are you sure? This is crazy? Okay, fine! We’ll do it! We’re in!'”

Once she got the role, however, Di Martino stepped inside Marvel Studios’ vibranium-clad cone of silence. And while she says she’s good at keeping a secret, finally getting to talk about the experience is a massive relief.

“I got this job in September 2019 and only today is the first day I can talk about Sylvie,” she says. “So it’s been quite hard!”

Sylvie really does not see herself as a “Loki.” So how much did you draw from Tom Hiddleston’s performance in his role as Loki when shaping your character?

I looked at his performance, but I try not to be shaped by it too much. Sylvie has had a very different backstory to Loki. She’s a different person, and that was really important to us right from the beginning. When [director] Kate [Herron] pitched me the idea when I finally got the job, and she was able to tell me a bit more about it, it was very clear that Sylvia was Sylvie. And she’s not Lady Loki from the comics. I mean, the show is inspired by the comics, but this is a brand new backstory in a brand new story. And so I wanted to make her my own.

You will see, at times throughout the series, that Tom and I do very similar things, like our physicality is similar or when we choreographed fight scenes, we’ll mirror each other. And that’s all purposely done. And then the rest of it I’ve kind of just made up as I go along.

Tom Hiddleston conducted his famous Loki lecture in advance of the show — did you have a chance to go to it?

Yeah, I was there. It’s one of those things where you can say, ‘I was there!’ It was super interesting and important for me to listen to. He knows so much about the character. He’s been with that character for 10 years. He knows that character unlike anyone else in the world. And to hear all of that information and be able to ask him any question was just really, really important and fun. Like, what a great way to start a job. It got everyone really excited about the show.

How did you and Tom and Kate Herron talk about the scene in which Loki comes out — to the audience, anyway — as bisexual?

I remember Kate being really passionate about it, and that she wanted that to be represented in the show. I think people have been waiting a long time for it. The comic books allude to it and even the Norse mythology, I think. It’s been around for so long, and it was really important to her to have that in the show. But we tried not to let that affect the way we were playing it, you know. We’re just playing it like it’s quite natural conversation between two friends — well, two acquaintances, at that point. So we tried not to give it too much weight, but we knew in the back of our minds how important it was to a lot of people. And I’ve got to say how happy it makes me that people are happy to see that.

A lot of people noticed that the lighting on Lamentis-1 was reminiscent of the bisexual flag. Did Kate take about that being on purpose?

I can’t remember her actually talking about being on purpose. But I know Kate Herron, and I think it probably it was. I think she was probably like, this is gonna be purple, pink and blue, guys! I mean, it looks beautiful.

Tell me a little about yourself. I’d read that you had always even since you were young been really keen on acting?

Yeah, I was one of those annoying kids who’s always like trying to get my sister to do plays in the living room, and always casting myself in the better part and having her play like the Cinderella character. I think it was just an excuse to boss her around. [Laughs] I was one of those really bossy kids. I’ve always I always enjoyed acting at school — I didn’t really know that acting was a job that I could do until I was a little bit older. I wasn’t the kind of kid who would say I want to be an actor, because I think my parents would have just laughed at me. A ridiculous idea! No one in my family is in that world, and it wasn’t really within my grasp. So it was always a little dream that I kept to myself, really. And then I’ve just been quietly chipping away at it for the past 25 years, and here I am!

Owen Wilson has talked about how he was aware of the MCU, but not necessarily the most super knowledgeable person about it. Where do you fall in your awareness and knowledge of of the Marvel Cinematic Universe?

Kind of similar to Owen. I’d seen a few movies, and I was aware of it. And a few of my friends are really into it. And I know that a lot of people are, but I didn’t know that much, to be honest. I’ve learned a lot more being on the show. And from Tom, who is very knowledgeable.

How much of the role did you get to do before lockdown?

I don’t want to get this wrong, but I think it was like three or four weeks of filming. It wasn’t very much at all. It was enough just to start getting in the flow of things and just to start enjoying it before we had to shut down.

In that sort of time period where we were all just sitting with our own thoughts and contemplating the world, did you think more about Sylvie and anything else that you wanted to do with the part?

It was a really great time for letting what we’d already shot sit and percolate. I know Kate and the writers did a lot more work on the storyline when they’d seen what we’d done, you know, cut together so far. From a personal perspective, it was great just to have a little bit more time to think about it. Because the beginning of the shoot, everything happened so quickly. I carried on training with my stunt double, Sara. We would meet up once or twice a week on zoom, and that was really helpful as well, just to physically get into the body of the character. So I had a lot more time to get fit after having a baby.

Part of the pandemic experience for a lot of people has been thinking about the road less travelled, which in Sylvie’s case is the most extreme example — of this person who shares some similar essence with Loki but lived a completely different life. Did that resonate at all for you while playing her?

It’s so interesting to see two characters who are so similar and so different. It was really important to me to reflect the kind of life that Sylvie has had. The costume reflects that as well with the broken horn and the slightly disheveled costume. And little things like keeping more of my regional accent, and not trying to sound too posh or too well spoken, because it just wouldn’t suit the experience that Sylvie’s had. All of those things were were parts of creating this character and this relationship between Tom and I.

So how does how does one audition for a particularly physical role while pregnant?

Well, luckily, the scene that they gave me, I think, ended up being the scene on the train when they both sat down having a conversation. So I didn’t have to stand up. It was just head and shoulders. So you would never know just by looking at the tape. And then I don’t exactly know how it happened. I think it was just lucky that it wasn’t a super physical scene that I had to act out. Trying to do stunts or something, that would have been terrible!

When you got this role, what really were the parameters of who you could talk to, and who you couldn’t, before today?

I can talk to Tom and I can talk to Kate, but I just wasn’t really supposed to say anything else to anyone else. And I’m really good at keeping secrets, so I just didn’t talk to anyone else about it. Tom and I would just call each other and be like, ‘Oh, we need to say all this stuff, because we’ve got to say to anyone else! Ahh! What about this scene and this bit and this bit?!’ And you know, we’d meet up with Kate and do the same thing. So it was kind of just the three of us.

[lokigodofaces]

thoughts on loki ep 2: the variant (spoilers)

under cut to not disturb your scrolling

Overall I enjoyed so that's good

Uh frick my mind blanked so sorry if things are completely out of order

I don't know, I expected the renaissance fair to be 2012 or 2021 or 2024 (Loki's time, our time, current time in the "sacred timeline"). So I was genuinely surprised when it was in 1985.

Ok, i really like the title card thing. And how the year scrolls around. It's a nice aesthetic touch there.

I wonder why the female Loki variant chooses her locations? Does she have a thing for renaissance fairs, French cathedrals, and Oklahoma?

1985 is when Back to the Future came out. And it's y'know, one of the most popular time travel movies ever. So I think they chose that year as a reference.

Again, not liking that the minutemen only have numbers, not names. It is giving me lots of Clone Wars vibes. If you don't know anything about Clone Wars, the clones are given number identifiers by the Kaminoans. Things like CT-7567. The clones would give themselves names (CT-7567, for example, names himself Rex). A really good sign throughout the series that someone is a sketchy person is if they call the clones by their numbers. The clones don't want to be known as numbers. They are people too, they deserve names, so they come up with all sorts of creative names (Rex, Fives, Cody, Tup, Hevy, Hardcase, Echo, Waxer, Boil, Wolffe, Jesse, Kix, Fox, Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Omega, Tech, Matchstick, etc). The jedi respect this, and the only jedi that i can think of that called clones by their numbers is Krell, who fell to the dark side. the Kaminoans and other sketchy people all call them by their numbers and the clones don't like it. A big focus of the show is on the clone's agency (at the end, they all have brain chips that take away their agency and force them to kill jedi), and how the clones need to be respected. So for me to see in another series that people are only given numbers is bad. What's worse is that the minutemen are fine with this. They don't see it as dehumanizing or belittling. They are brainwashed into being okay with it. Which says a thing or two about the Time Keepers.

did. did the renaissance fair really have Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out for a Hero" for their renaissance themed fight? Is this normal? Was it normal in the '80's? We saw later that the female Loki can do electronic stuff. Did she rig it to play it? For the vibes?

Also the stuff before the song was about fighting for a princess, and in the end she kidnaps C-20.

Okay, btw, I'm just gonna say Lady Loki for a while because no one has explicitly said Sylvie yet, so I'm going to refer to di Martino as Loki until she or another calls her Sylvie. Cool? Cool.

I was thinking the "Holding Out for a Hero" fight would be the roomba fight or something. It is such a good song that has huge potential for this genre. Why did they use it in a lame fight as that one?

When Lady Loki did the spell on C-20, it looked similar to what Wanda and Agatha can do. As in, it had similar visuals.

Loki reading a random magazine he finds while sitting with his feet on the desk bored out of his mind because he has to learn sh*t is a MOOD.

What is Miss Minutes? She can jump around anywhere, and pop into computers. But she can't be just a projection. She took the effort to dodge Loki swatting at her, so that may mean she was corporeal. She also could be something similar to the Kree's Supreme Intelligence?

So, did Mobius give Loki the shirt, tie, and slacks, but really didn't give him the jacket until they had to call him in? What? That makes no sense? Did the TVA not have any jackets with the variant label? Did someone have to custom design a jacket for Loki?

What is up with this show giving me things I wanted to see only in holographic form? First we saw Coulson's death, and now Loki in his Jotun form in a holograph of another variant.

Okay, Loki being someone the TVA has to constantly deal with is very on brand. Loki is a creature of chaos, of course he's going to unknowingly rebel against the sacred timeline.

Also, headcanon that the Jotun Loki we see is king of Jotunheim because that would be epic.

Also, for personal reasons I choose to believe there is a Loki variant that defeated the Avengers and immediately went queer rights.

Loki's reaction to there being many Loki variants. He's seen what his life is supposed to be. I think he is even more upset that the TVA often deals with him, that there are so many things that could have been instead if it weren't for the TVA and the "sacred timeline."

Also, I totally think Mobius was waiting for another Loki to show up to help him defeat Lady Loki. They get them so often, it makes sense.

Loki explaining the difference between illusion projection and duplication was great. And very helpful to me personally understanding lore. Also, Mobius, get your crap together. If you're a Loki expert, figure this stuff out.

Loki calling the TVA out on propaganda, we love that.

The wolf quote is actually very nice, I quite like it.

Okay, the TVA doesn't even bury or cremate or do any sort of ritual for their fallen minutemen, they just reset the timeline. Which to me seems like another way to show how little the TVA actually care for their workers.

There are statues of the Time Keepers in Ravonna's office. The camera pays extra attention to it. Keep reading for more about Time Keepers and cinematography choices.

What. What sort of relationship does Ravonna and Mobius have? What is going on there? I am really confused.

Who is this "analyst on the side?" What is going on there?

Ravonna is MEGA SUS. Along with that, the Time Keepers are mega sus.

She signs R. Slayer. Yeah. Slayer. Not at all subtle, Marvel. Letting us know that she'll do the deed if needed.

Mobius you are sending me mixed signals. What do you want?

Okay, Mobius saying Loki was a "cold, scared boy" and an "ice runt" and stuff was totally a jab at Loki being Jotun.

Mobius saying Loki is insecure because of Lady Loki is...probably true.

With the elevator, the camera stops and focuses on the Time Keepers.

The Creation of the TVA, the beginning of time, the end of time, all classified. That is sus.

Loki almost crying over Ragnarok was good. Let him cry over the destruction of his home.

Loki being the one to discover something the TVA had no idea about after a day is on brand for Loki. And it shows how the TVA really are vulnerable.

Mobius: Really? In front of my salad?

No but the object lesson was well done and actually did help me understand what Loki was talking about.

Casey! Casey drinks grape juice! Imagine how confusing this is for Casey though. Loki is captured, threatens to gut you like a fish (whatever that means), and now he's dressed like an analysist, stealing your juice box. Does Loki get Casey more juice?

Honestly, Loki looking at everything logically and scientifically is fantastic. Adds to the science = magic thing Marvel's got going on, since Loki is a sorcerer.

Loki saying volcanoes are cool is fun. I agree. Volcanoes mean the planet is geologically active, which means we won't die. Also, there is a volcano named Loki on one of Jupiter's moons. I wonder if the creators knew that and put Loki in Pompeii because he is already linked with volcanoes.

Mobius telling Loki to start off small and Loki completely disregarding that felt very personal to me.

Loki being absolutely chaotic and telling everyone they were going to die while speaking perfect Latin was iconic. I want more of that content. Let the man be buckwild.

Again, Loki finding something out after a day that the TVA never knew about is on brand.

"Be free, my horned friends, be free!" I love that way too much.

Mobius being obsessed with jet skis wasn't something I expected, but I'm down for it. Heck, even Loki admitted they were cool.

The discussion on beliefs is going to lead to saying the Time Keepers are bullcrap. Hopefully.

Grapes and nuts are "candy" on Asgard. So, when Loki was eating grapes in Ragnarok, we can interpret that as him eating M&Ms. Second, this might add to something I've seen around here. I've seen things about a book somewhere with Loki saying chocolate fountains are mythical (which is really funny to me). So, I guess Asgard really doesn't have chocolate.

Oh my gosh, so many apocalypses between 2047 and 2051...hopefully none of those happen in real life.

Roxxcart is probably part of Roxxon, something that has been around in Iron Man movies.

Lady Loki got the shovel thing from Roxxcart that she left in Oklahoma! The minutemen said it was from the early third millenia, which is where we are now! 2050 also fits that category!

I saw something about the file saying Class 8 hurricane...there are only 5 classes...which means this is a crazy storm.

Does B-15 want Loki dead? This is a legitimate question, because I think she does. Dead or pruned.

Loki looking around at the storm, I love it. This could be him loving science, or him missing Thor, since Thor creates storms. Also, at this point Loki probably things Thor dies shortly after him in the sacred timeline, so Loki would be particularly sentimental about Thor.

I love Loki drying himself off and not anyone else. And B-15 yelling about his magic. And Loki's motions are so fluid, it's so aesthetically pleasing, I love it.

Dudes, I thought B-15 was going to try to prune Loki when they were alone.

Okay, was Lady Loki bsing about the azalea sale, or does Roxxcart actually do that? I want to know.

Wunmi Mosaku did a really good job as Lady Loki, I loved it.

Loki being annoyed at Lady Loki and saying he understood how Thor felt, does that insinuate Loki can do what Lady Loki was doing?

B-15 and C-20 were both very shaken after being possessed by Lady Loki. I wonder how that felt for them? We've had different explanations of mind control/brainwashing/similar from Clint, Bucky, Daisy, Mack, Fitz, and Monica in the MCU (including AoS). I wonder what is specific to Lady Loki's possession.

C-20 kept going on about something being real. What was that about?

C-20 revealed the location of the Time Keepers to Lady Loki!

Lady Loki not wanting to be called Loki could be a sign she is Sylvie.

There's something weird where Loki's voice echoed around while the camera focused on Lady Loki. Maybe she's telepathic?

Someone needs to keep a tracker on people telling Loki this isn't his story in a show literally about him.

But, that does add to themes for his life, and how everything was always about someone else in his life. He was always a supporting character for Thor, for Odin, for Thanos. Now, even in his own story, everyone insists he doesn't matter.

I was wondering what the reset charges would be used for. I wasn't expecting a massive bombing of the sacred timeline! Wow! That was unexpected and I loved it!

Okay, this isn't from me, this is from New Rockstars. But to list all the places mentioned on chronomonitors, either bombed or not: Knowhere, Barcelona, Niflheim, Dartford, Phong Nha, Lisbon, Vormir, Thorton, Cookeville, Asgard, Rome, Sakaar, Barichara, Porvoo, Ego, Titan, New York City, Tokyo, Hala, Kingsport, Xandar, Beijing, Madrid, Portland, Jotunheim. Bolded are other planets. Those are almost all the planets visited in the MCU. So fun easter eggs there!

I like Lady Loki's aesthetic. The fingerless gloves, the cloak, I love it. And YES SHE ISN'T SEXUALIZED. So many genderbent characters are excuses to sexualize women. But Lady Loki is just as covered as the male Lokis.

Lady Loki just...left the time door open for Loki to follow...for a really long time...I'm worried he's running into a trap.

What is Loki going to do now?

Theory time y'alls: Lady Loki bombed the sacred timeline to flush the minutemen out of the TVA, leaving it defenseless. And she's gonna go after the Time Keepers themselves. We know she gets into the TVA from trailer footage, and that's what I think we're gonna see next episode. I think she (like the Loki we are following) is upset over the lack of free will, and she plans to change that. That's why she wasn't interested in helping Loki "take over" the TVA, because she doesn't want to become the leader of a new TVA, she wants it destroyed.

Alright, back to the Time Keepers stuff. They keep focusing on the middle Time Keeper. Even in the end credits they have a weird cut to focus directly on his face. I'm not 100% on this, but I like this theory. That face is similar to Jonathan Major's, the actor confirmed to be Kang the Conqueror in Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania. Kang is a well known time travelling villain in Marvel. Maybe he is Kang, and is using variant versions of himself (that's a Kang thing in the comics) to mess with the timeline, and no one expects that from him. Also, Renslayer was his S/O for a bit in the comics, and they keep framing her in front of that one Time Keeper's face. I feel like this would be a good way to set up Quantumania and to show how sus the Time Keepers are.

Also, Loki was absolutely adorable the entire episode. And he got to sleep! Yay for him!

Again, I enjoyed, and can't wait for next week!

[uwmspeccoll]

It’s Fine Press Friday! 

Novelle Cinque: Tales from the Veneto, translated and edited from the original Italian by George H. Bumgardner, is illustrated with four watercolor facsimiles from the 16th century manuscript and constitutes a major part of the “Refugio de miseri” (the refuge from misery), containing five short stories that detail the misery surrounding young lovers in Venice. Our edition was translated into English for the first time from the manuscript residing in Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University and was designed by Martino Mardersteig, who also oversaw the letterpress printing in the Stamperia Valdonega in Verona, Italy. Mardersteig was notably connected to the Officina Bodoni, a private press in Verona specializing in hand press to create beautiful and incredibly high quality books, through his father Giovanni Mardersteig. The elder Giovanni designed the Dante, Griffo, and Zeno typefaces based on the popular Old Humanist types of European printing in the early 20th century. This edition was printed in Centaur typeface designed by Bruce Rogers, another Old-style typeface similar to typefaces designed by Mardersteig. It was printed on Pescia paper made specifically for this edition by Cartiere Magnani and bound by Legatoria Recalcati in Milan. There were 1950 copies published by Imprint Society Publishing in Barre, Massachusetts in 1974. 

The colophon on the original piece indicates that the manuscript belonged to an Antonio Angelieri and Bumgardner notes in the introduction that the first story is an original belonging solely to this collection, while the following four stories were previously printed as part of other collections. The fifth story, “Justa Victoria,” was printed by Officina Bodoni in 1943. In a strange twist, he believes that the manuscript was given to Angelieri as a wedding gift, although the stories contained in this piece are anything but wedding-friendly. He describes the collection as “an antecedent to Romeo and Juliet”.

View more Fine Press Friday posts.

-Emily, Special Collections Writing Intern

[ayellowcurtain]

Could you write something about nico says again "it had never happened to me before"? Marti seems to forget how much Nico loves him and it would be nice to remind him

Could you do a fix where Marti is insecure because he thinks Nicco is very handsome to be with him

It takes a while for them to get back to what Nico thinks is their normal. Nico is afraid to lose Marti, to try again to be open to whatever life wants to offer him just to have his heart broken. Maybe he can handle heartbreak, but he doesn’t want Martino to know how that feels. 

And it’s not a constant. Sometimes they’re good, sometimes it’s weird, Marti is a little quiet and too inside his own head, using every excuse he can to have a break from Nico. 

Marti spent the whole day inside their bedroom - is supposedly Nico’s bedroom since Marti is still living with his mom, but he doesn’t act like it - and Nico thinks it’s time for a break. Martino can study more tomorrow if he wants to, when they’re apart and have other things to do. Nico already gave him the entire afternoon to be away and now he wants his boyfriend back. 

Nico walks carefully and stops at the door. Martino is tired, clearly, but he’s really good at pushing through his sleepiness. He barely moves, his whole body giving up around him, his shoulder falling around his chest, but he’s still sitting on his chair, reading the book on the table. He fidgets with his pencil with one hand, the other holding his head up, his tired eyes focused on what he’s reading. 

The smell of warm tea was the hint Nico was trying to give Martino to drift his eyes away from the book, but not even that makes him lose his focus so Nico walks around him carefully, gently kissing his neck, hoping his lips are still warm from the tea he was drinking. 

Marti smiles, but doesn’t even try to give Nico more space, total access to his neck. 

“It’s enough for today, my genius...” 

“I just need to finish this chapter...” Marti whispers, still reading and Nico sighs, burying his nose on the space he can smell of Marti’s neck. 

“The chapter can wait. Come to bed, please.” Deep down, Nico was mostly sure Marti would ask for another five minutes and Nico wouldn’t insist, but his boyfriend finally relaxes his shoulders and closes his eyes, letting his body realize how tired he is. 

“Okay...the chapter can wait.” Marti smiles, leaning his head back against Nico’s chest, looking up and he kisses Marti’s forehead, looking at him carefully in this new angle. 

“Why do you want me in bed?” He smiles slyly and Nico kisses his lips gently, playing with his hair. 

“Just to look at your beautiful face.” Marti sighs fake-annoyed and Nico steps back so Marti can push his chair and get up to meet him and go to bed. 

“You say it like it’s a big deal.” Nico smiles, offering his hand and Martino holds it gently right away, letting Nico lead him to their bed. 

“It is. You’re so handsome, Marti.” 

“No, I’m not...” He whispers and Nico knows Martino honestly believes his own words and Nico can’t wrap his head around the thought that Martino looks at himself and doesn’t see what he sees. 

They walk back to the bed and Nico pulls Marti to sit in between his legs, his back flat against Nico’s chest, stealing his tea to take a sip. 

“I can’t believe Martino Rametta likes me.” 

That gets Marti’s attention. He turns his head so fast and frowns so deeply that it makes Nico laugh, putting his arms around Marti’s middle to pull him even closer. 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I am. Very serious. You really think you did all the work? Don’t you remember that I magically appeared at the radio to invite you for a smoke? I was so nervous you would say no, because I had to know you. Because I asked you to run away from that date to go swim with me. And I sat in between you and Emma at the party and offered myself to help you take the trash out. I worked really hard for you to notice me, Marti.” 

“You didn’t have to...” Martino turns back around not so gracefully, putting his legs over Nico’s so they can sit as close as possible, “You are so hot, Ni. Like so hot! And you know how to do this...flirt...with guys. I didn’t know what I was doing when we met.” 

It’s Nico’s turn to sigh fake-annoyed, putting his tea on the nightstand. 

“And that’s our difference: I was working hard to be charming and you are a natural prince charming, hooking up with girls left and right inside bathrooms...”

Nico holds back his smile, contracting his muscles because he knew Marti was about to shove him when he said that. At least he manages to hold his boyfriend closer when Marti pushes him away. 

“Fuck you! I’m sure you were also hooking up with everyone just fine before you met me.” 

“But none of them mattered, just you.” Nico lifts his eyebrows, trying not to laugh at how offended Marti suddenly looks. 

“So you’re not denying that you hooked up with half of Italy! See!” He gently pushes Nico away again, but Nico holds Marti’s hands against his chest, gently rubbing the back of his hands. 

“It had never happened to me before, not like this. Like it’s with you. So I had to work hard to win the competition and therefore your love and attention.” 

“You’re so cheesy.” Nico nods his head, pulling Marti closer for a kiss, but Martino doesn’t let it last too long, looking at Nico up close, “Luai is a good looking guy.” 

“He is, but so are you. And I’m in love with you so I guess anyone else doesn’t matter.” 

Martino doesn’t believe him, rolling his eyes, but he lets it go, smiling and coming closer again to kiss Nico this time, with no rush. 

[dk-thrive]

take notice of the resplendence and glory that overlie this day

Don't forget, as busy as you may be, to quickly raise your head and cast a glance at those great silver clouds and that silent blue ocean in which they are swimming...take notice of the resplendence and glory that overlie this day...because this day will never, ever come again! This day is a gift to you like a rose in full bloom, lying at your feet, waiting for you to pick it up and press it to your lips.

― Rosa Luxemburg, “Reform Or Revolution” (Martino Fine Books, December 25, 2020) (via Alive on All Channels)

[laurelleghuleh]

OCAF | Ch. 12 “This ravaged village is my heart”

In this chapter, there is a poem by Giuseppe Ungaretti, one of my favorite Italian poets. The original title is "San Martino del Carso". He mainly wrote between the two great wars of the twentieth century, so I thought he was quite a fit for the occasion. I like to think that Levi could definitely be one of his readers.

Warnings: read the masterlist first

Songs: "War Of Hearts" by Ruelle, "Close To You" by Rihanna, "Outro: House Of Cards" by BTS

DAPHNE’S POV

The silence on our way back was unbearable. By then the thunder of boots that rang as one on the ground had turned into a distant and vague thud. Almost an inaudible, dull sound. As we ploddingly proceeded like empty shells, citizens began to appear from out of their windows, murmuring and shaking their heads in disbelief.

I didn't dare to look up. I couldn't hold their gaze.

Sorrow, humiliation, inquietude, blind anger, and a thousand other emotions seemed to get the better of me. Glancing around, it didn't seem like my comrades were handling the situation any better.

Once we got to the headquarters, I walked over to the wagon where Eren was resting. Beside him, Mikasa had been keeping an eye on him the whole time. I gave them both a simple nod. My lips were pressed into a thin line, behind which any words of thanks or condolence remained mute, still hanging in my now completely dry throat.

Proceeding towards the main entrance, I witnessed from afar a heated discussion between Hange and Levi. I didn't understand much about it, but I soon saw the captain push her away and go straight into the building. He was limping and his hands were curled into stiff fists.

As soon as Hange noticed me, she reached out to me, shaking her head. With a concerned tone, I asked her what had happened, and placing a hand on my shoulder, she said:

“Please, later try to check on him.” I nodded, unsure if he even wanted to talk to anyone. Let alone me.

Honestly, I was dying to see him. Not yet knowing what to tell him or how to approach him at all after the expedition. The thought alone of confronting him made me sick. I didn't have the courage. What could I ever tell him in such a situation? How could I ever help him? I could only imagine what was going on in his head.

Halfway between the hallways and my door, I had almost completely stripped down, taking off my uniform and the rest. I tried to reach the bathroom as soon as possible, hit by a sudden nausea. At the sight of the toilet, I could no longer hold back.

I felt my guts squirm and at the push of the last retching, I let myself fall to the ground. On that cold floor, I realized how miserable and lonely I felt. How lost. That thought alone had been enough to convince me. I wanted to see him, to know what had happened to his legs, how he was doing and all. I had to see him.

I tried to wash as quickly as possible. Under the water, I noticed some bruises and cuts on my arms and legs, nothing serious. No medication was actually needed. And luckily, despite the light concussion, I seemed to feel quite fine.

Without overthinking it too much, I put on my nightgown, but only once outside my room, I realized that perhaps it would be quite inappropriate. After all, Levi was my superior.

Who cares. Like he gives a shit about what I’m wearing…

I knocked, not knowing what to expect behind that massive door or whether to even expect something. He probably would like to be left alone... But I didn't want to give up right away, so I knocked again. But nothing. Again, but still nothing. One last time, then I swear to God I’ll-  

Just as I was about to knock again, the door swung open, revealing a figure completely immersed in the gloom of the room behind it. Levi.

There he was. His hair was untidy and still wet - perhaps he had just gotten out of the shower -, his eyes tired, his jaw set, his torso barely illuminated by the dim hallway lights, his muscles tense, one hand on the door and the other pressed on a gauze on his chest. Lower he was wearing his pajama pants only, carefully shortened on one leg, enough to reveal a tight bandage around his ankle.

A view that could break your heart as much as take your breath away.

Literally. I was suddenly unable to spell a single word or even remember why I was there in the first place. Luckily, Levi relieved me of the embarrassment of taking the first step, just calling me by my name:

"Daphne." The low pitch of his voice seemed to resonate through the space all around us, filling it inch by inch. And I swear I had even felt it running within my bones.

Six letters and I was already lightheaded.

He hesitated to add more, waiting for my reply. All I could do was to faintly open my mouth, unable to articulate anything reasonable.

"What are you doing here? You should be resting by now.”

I don't know what was wrong with me at that moment, but I couldn't stop staring at him. To be more specific, I couldn't take my eyes off his chiseled chest, and off whatever he was hiding under that gauze. I unconsciously advanced and when I was only a few inches away from him, I took his hand, moving it from his skin to reveal a deep wound.

“Levi…”

Overstepping the doorframe, I was now completely inside the room. Levi sized the moment to close the door behind my back with his free hand and at that point, we were alone in the darkness, just a step away from each other.

I could sense his eyes looming over me as I inspected his wound.

“Levi, this looks bad… Let me help you. It's the least I can do for you after yesterday... and today too actually…”

“I’ve already told you that surviving the expedition would be enough. We're even.” he said, grabbing me softly by the wrist. I sought his gaze in the gloom and stepping forward, I said with a thread of voice:

“Let me just help you.” He let go of my wrist and as he turned his back on me, he said:

“The medical kit is in the other room”. Therefore, I followed him into the darkness of what looked like an office, his office. He opened a door at the end of the room, on the right side, revealing his bedroom.

Everything was exactly as I expected it to be: simple and extremely neat.

The room was decorated with nothing more than the essential. A wooden headboard was placed against the wall on my left, at its sides two small night tables, and in front of it, about a meter away, stood a large double door wardrobe. To my right a completely bare wall with a solid wood door right in the center. His bathroom, I thought.

Almost all the light came from a large window on the left, precisely aligned between the bed and the wardrobe, while a small candle on one of the two bedside tables illuminated a box. It must be the medkit he was talking about. Once I saw it, I took it and ordered him:

“Sit on the bed”. Oddly enough, he silently obeyed.

Levi patted on a spot on his left, and silently following his instructions, I made my way to the bed. Twenty-four hours earlier I would have bitten him if he had tried one more time to gesture me something.

I sat and tucked a leg under me. Without wasting any more time, I observed the kit, searching for something useful to treat the lesion with. Then I took Levi by the shoulders, making him rotate in my direction since his wound was on his right side, a few centimeters from his collarbone.

As I sanitized my hands, I pondered upon what to do. He had already stopped the bleeding, but a couple of stitches were definitely needed; the injury was long and deep.

Meanwhile, Levi continued to stare at me as I began to clean up his wound. All of a sudden, in a single move, he took me by the hips, lifting me and placing me on his lap. Then he said,

“You’ll have a better look on it from here.”

“L-Levi, your legs ... Don't they hurt you?” I nervously stuttered sensing the bare skin of my thighs against the fabric of his pants. I was suddenly aware of how short and thin my dress was.

“I can’t fight a titan right now, but I think I can handle this.” and as he said so, he pointed his gaze to my thighs. I tried to divert his attention, changing the subject, and returning to his wound.

“Whatever. I'll be quick.”

“Take your time." he murmured.

While I was cleaning his wound, Levi had stayed religiously silent. But after a while, he said: “You did well today.”

“I don't think so…” I immediately replied.

“Why? You're still alive.” he said looking for my gaze, still fixed on a spot between the edges of his wound.

“You’re still alive. You survived. Even. This. Time. You little scum. You survived and they didn't.” That voice in my head started haunting me.

But it was right. After all, if it hadn't been for Eren, I would have probably met the same fate as Petra, or Eld, or anybody else. I still didn’t dare to share my thoughts with him. When I tried to reach for the disinfectant in the kit, Levi blocked me with his arm, saying, like it was an order:

“Look at me, Daphne.”

But I ignored him, trying to extend my arm past his. With just one hand, he suddenly grabbed my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. His piercing eyes moved impatiently between mine as if he were looking for a clue to my silence, inspecting the deepest depths of my soul.

“What is it, uh? Don't tell me you think you didn't deserve to survive?”

I tried to stay still, returning his intense gaze, without saying anything. Still unable to confess, I was on the verge of a break down: in his presence, I always felt like an open book. Easily readable. Inevitably clear.

Suddenly his grip on me became stronger and his tone darker and tense. His voice sounded almost like a growl as he spoke through his teeth, “Do you think you didn't deserve to be alive in the place of my squad? In place of valiant soldiers like Eld ... Gunther ... Petra ... and even Oruo?”

“Stop it …”  I abruptly cried, looking away and freeing myself from his grip. I jumped up and massaged my jaw as I walked away. I was about to leave when Levi spoke again:

“Did you really think I wouldn't find out?”At the sound of those words, I felt obliged to turn around.

“Eren told me everything,” he said as he stood up from the bed.

“That you two didn't want to leave. You didn't want to leave them alone” He took a step forward.

“That Eld opposed, imposing his orders on you. And that you decided to follow them.” Another one further.

"That when you saw them die, one after the other, you were ready to go and fight it." he said, taking another step until he was now right in front of me. A few inches away, he whispered, warming up my skin with his hot breath:

“You did what you had to do, Daphne.”

I remained motionless, digesting his words and his looming proximity. Sensing my silence, he slowly stepped forward, and brushing his lips on my ear he said:

“You know what? I think all this has nothing to do with the expedition”. Then he moved to the other:

“I think it's just your unswerving guilt.” So he went back to the other:

“It has nothing to do with having accomplished the mission or not. Or not even with surviving the expedition. No...” Then he returned to the other side, this time pronouncing every single word as slowly as he could:

“It's the guilt of not having been able to save someone you cared about. Again...” Then he brought his face back right in front of mine

“Now tell me. Am I wrong?"

If there had ever been butterflies in my stomach, by then they had probably all burned alive by that sudden rage I felt flare up from within. Caught by that blind anger, without even realizing it, I impulsively grabbed him by the neck, applying solid pressure on it, not enough to choke him, but just enough to hurt him, even a little.

So I pulled him in, to the point where our noses touched, and gritting my teeth I warned him,

"Don't think you can talk to me like this just because last night I was crying in your arms, Levi."

He continued to stare at me almost impassively, unblinking as if my fingers were nothing around his neck. On second thought, his eyes looked so empty. So tired. I would have said even so deeply sad.

Let's be honest, he could have freed himself from my grasp in a second, and yet he didn't. Then bringing his jaw forward, almost caressing my lips, he opened his mouth to say,

“Go ahead. Squeeze harder if it makes you feel better.”

I inhaled deeply trying not to completely lose control and kill him on the spot. But still, I couldn’t loosen up my grip on him.

Seeing me waver, Levi stepped even further, pushing me with the weight of his body against the wall behind me. As soon as I felt the chill of the bare surface on my back, I saw his arms rising. His fists were now positioned at the same height as my head on the wall, while his neck was still between my fingers.

“Do you think I don't feel that way too? That guilt? Do you think I wouldn't have given my life for them? We all feel that way. Every. Single. Time”

At the sound of his words, my arms fell helplessly along the sides of my body.

What the hell got into me all of a sudden? Until a few minutes earlier, I had arrived there with the best of intentions. I wanted to help him, I wanted to be by his side… And now? Now I was almost choking him. I had to calm down as soon as possible.

We both needed to calm down. After all, we were both exhausted, powerless, and incurably grieving.

Calm down, Daphne.

I rubbed my eyes furiously as if my fingers could flay off the tremendous frustration I was feeling at that moment. I swallowed all my pride, even though it was almost impossible for me to bear the fact that Levi had read me so easily. It was almost humiliating.I sighed and finally looked up from the ground. Instinctively I raised my hand to reach his neck again. I let my fingers slide slowly as if I could gently trace the word sorry along his skin. I had crossed the line.

Lower, his wound had started to bleed again, so with one hand, I guided him back to his bed, straddling him again. Then I said with a thread of voice:

“Let’s just get this over with.”

We stayed perfectly silent as I started working on his wound all over again.

As I leaned over my right to take the disinfectant in the kit, I felt Levi's hands brush my skin, working it’s way up my thighs to my back. In a very specific point: not too high, not too low, just a few centimeters before it could have gotten awkward. I quickly eyed him, but he defended himself, saying:

“It's just to keep you from falling.” I involuntarily rolled my eyes and then added:

“Anyway, hold still, this may hurt.” So I applied the product, but Levi never flinched. When I was done, Levi spoke again:

“Farlan and Isabel... I saw them die during my first expedition. We were just a bunch of kids from the Underground. We weren't even supposed to be there. They didn't have to die there. And I didn't have to survive there.”

Then he paused.

“But I did… Daphne, this thing never gets better. Each expedition is like a Russian roulette and you just have to keep your fingers crossed until the very end.”

“I'm so sorry Levi…” I could only add. Who knows how he must have felt at that moment.

Then, after I had sanitized my hands, knowing what a clean-freak I was dealing with, I took a needle and thread. But before proceeding, I found the courage to tell him:

“Sometimes I just think I’m not suited for this life. Not even for that little freedom I’ve experienced the past three years in the Underground after Martha had freed me... I feel like I've been in survival mode throughout my whole life.”

I almost hesitated before speaking again.

“Sometimes I feel like I can't take this anymore. And other times I can manage any situation without any problem... As if there was another person within me that takes my reins and saves my ass every single time... I do not know how long I will be able to endure. How much suffering and death I will still have to witness before I crumble down…”

I was at my limit and my tone had become definitely quieter as I continued:

“Or maybe it's just the fact that you are humanity’s strongest soldier and I am a simple girl from the Underground.”

Placing a hand on his chest, I could feel his heart pounding faster and faster at the sound of my words and his hands on me sinking their grip, dipping into my skin through the thin layer of cloth.

So we found ourselves staring at each other, again, in silence. That emptiness was becoming unbearable when I decided to bring my attention back to the wound, saying:

“I should get you something to bite while I sew your-” But holding me still on top of him, he assured me,

“It won’t be necessary. I can bear it.”

“I know, tough guy, but this is really gonna hurt-”

“I’ve just told you it won’t be necessary.” Looking at him closely, he seemed quite serious, so I decided to proceed, reemphasizing:

“Ok, but stop me if it hurts.” I felt a light pressure on my back as the needle sank into his skin, but after the first knot, I sensed his grip loosen and his hands began to gently stroke me with small circles on my back.

“Of these houses nothing remains but the rubble of a ruined wall…” he said as the thread formed another knot on his skin.

“Of the many who were so close to me nothing remains” a little pause “not even that.” I tightened another knot.

“But in my heart not one cross is missing.” another one.

“This ravaged village is my heart.”

By now I was done with the sewing and looking carefully at those four crosses on his skin, perfectly aligned with his wound, I felt his words make their way up to my eyes, where one after the other they pooled on the very edge of my eyelids. Like dew after a long humid night.

I looked up, hoping to manage to say something.

“It's a poem I found in Erwin's bookcase…” he added.

“Levi…” I feebly said, trying to steady myself with a hand on his shoulder. Those words had made me dizzy.

Suddenly he pulled me closer, squeezing me tighter and enveloping me completely, while I felt my body almost melting against his and my robe shifting in his hands.

“You don't have to endure or overcome pain. You just have to keep going, Daphne. The fact that you are still alive does not make you a villain, but a survivor, a fighter.”

I did my best to hold back my tears. I wanted to show him that I was truly listening to him, that I had listened to every single word of his since we met. Sensing my discomfort and looking me straight in the eyes, he added:

“Time is not on our side... But if you learn to treasure every second you’re granted, the world will be yours. Do what you think is right and never look back. Never have regrets.”

I returned his gaze and sighing, I nodded. Then I stretched out my arm over his and took a gauze to cover the stitches. Still tied in his grip, practically glued onto him, I naively asked:

“So you really don't have any regrets? Not even one?”

“One or two.” he said roaming his eager gaze from my eyes and to my lips. And vice versa. Restlessly.

His hands silently slipped along my hips and then squeezed me, as if he wanted to hold me even closer to him when the space between us had already completely vanished. I felt my breath shorten and my back instinctively arch as he aligned me with his hard-on, gently pressing me on it.

Despite his tired eyes, Levi's nostrils were wide open like those of a wild animal in front of its prey, sighing heavily and looming over it. An ache grew within me, shaping a stinging line from my belly down to my legs. At that point my hips could not stay still, grinding almost imperceptibly on him.

A thick fog of suspended breaths had materialized in those few inches between our faces, as we inhaled and exhaled, with our mouth wide open, impatiently waiting for one of us to take the first step. The one who was ready to surrender and lose.

LEVI’S POV

My hands were literally itching because of her. All because I selfishly wanted more of her.

Her figure perfectly molded onto mine; we were like two long lost pieces of jigsaw now reunited. I scanned every inch of her body in front of me with my breath, never touching her. Then swallowing thickly, I confessed:

“Daphne, when I saw you hanging from that tree today…”. I sighed trying to pull myself together “ The fact that you are alive is more than enough for me…” Then I went back on her face. Resting my forehead on hers and cupping the back of her head, I murmured:

“But just say the word…”

I felt almost as if I were sinking into my bed when she whispered back:

“Please.”

[jorgecrespo]

rank the isaks from book smarts to street smarts

Book smarts

1. Martino. Would get in trouble with random strangers on a street corner in like, two seconds. Don't make eye contact baby, we've talked about this. Can get his homework done though

2. Robbe. I mean, he's got enough common sense in him, but I still would rather trust him with schoolwork than anything else

3. VDH. Pretty boys don't have street smarts. Everyone knows this. Pretty boys also don't have book smarts. Pretty boys are here to be one thing: pretty

4. Isak. He's smart and I'd trust him on the mean streets of Oslo. Although we've seen how he deals with cops and it's a bit cringe. We gotta work on that a bit

5. Lucas R. Definitely in the middle. Smart enough on all fronts. He's got things handled

6. Shay. She's pretty good in school and is full of common sense. Probably a bit more street smarts than book, but still pretty good

7. Lucas L. No thots head empty when it comes to books. But he can make it outside of homework. It's not all about books in this cruel world, he'll be fine

8. Cris. So her street smarts are a little, odd (we all saw how she handled those pills). But she does have one really good thing going for her: she's a pretty blonde girl. That'll get her out of a LOT of trouble. Use what you got baby girl

9. Matteo. I would absolutely trust him to walk me in a secret, seedy underground club at 3am. He knows what he's doing. I have faith

Street smarts

[bookcoversonly]

Title: The Journey to the East | Author: Hermann Hesse | Publisher: Martino Fine Books (2011)

[inmyarmswrappedin]

Can you rank the isak/Jonas friendship in terms of friendship dynamic and the characters individually

Hi anon 🍃 lol sorry, this is so late. I hope you’re still paying attention to these. 

Isak/Jonas: It's funny because, in hindsight, I feel like other remakes developed this friendship more, or gave them more dialogue so that certain things were explicitly expressed (like the Jonas' remorse about the homophobic jokes of yesteryear), or they simply come across as closer friends because we get more insta content. But I think that both Isak and Jonas are fully realized characters. I love Jonas Vasquez and I can totally see why Isak idolized him, even when Jonas was a little shit. And I just about adore Jonas' reaction to Isak coming out, it feels 100% true to his character to take it in, put himself in Isak's shoes and say the one thing Jonas would like to hear if he were telling Isak about a girl. Isak and Jonas may not necessarily be the closest Isak and Jonas pair, but they feel like two good, teenie male friends, and that counts for a lot in my book.

Shay/Marlon: Surprise? I love these two and I think they're tight as fuck. I'm basically headcanoning here, but I think one of the reasons Shay isn't out to everyone yet isn't so much because what other people might say, but what Marlon might think. (And here it helps that Marlon is fairly woke, but nowhere near tumblr standards. We know Marlon will react well because he's a Jonas, but there's some room for uncertainty.) As for Marlon, while I think he's pretty self-centered, I can't help but have some fondness for this dumb teenie who's so devoted to his friends that he's selling his meds in order to make their band happen. I mean, it seems like he's financing their soundcloud rapping career all on his own, and I'm supposed to frown upon his drug dealing ways? Absolutely not. Anyway, I love that Shay and Marlon are friends from way back. I love that Marlon is such a lesbro and that Shay knew she needed to become bff with a white guy for protection.  

Lucas/Jorge: Remake Jonas stans will argue that this or that Jonas figured out early on that their Isak was gay, but Jorge was the only one who canonly noticed early on and tried to be there for Lucas without pushing him. There's a reason that the Spanish boy squad isn't homophobic (and yet, as per one of Lucas' videos, not immediately educated about everything ever) and it's because Jorge would have never allowed that shit. And you know it. Jorge loves the shit out of Lucas, and Lucas knows that he's loved. Sometimes a best friend that you know will always be there is way more important than a love story, and this is true for Lucas Rubio.

Matteo/Jonas A: I was really, really conflicted about these two. I'm more of a David fan, and I generally don't care for Jonas A. But after some soul searching, I realized I couldn't list Matteo any lower than this without feeling like a TRAITOR to him, and for all his faults, Jonas A is a fairly good friend. I feel like there's a lot of love between Jonas and Matteo, but at the same time I also feel like there's nothing much that binds them together? Like, I actually think as the years go by, Hanna will become Matteo's go-to confidante over Jonas, because I feel like she and Matteo have more in common. But that's just, like, my opinion, man.

Lucas/Yann: I'm only rating them this high because I really love Yann, despite how dirty the writing team post s2 did him. The thing is, many Jonases do make homophobic jokes in s1, but the one big gay joke Jonas makes in s1, about Isak only liking gay songs, was not what Yann said in s1. He said Lucas only liked songs for virgins. (I haven't watched s1 a lot so I might be missing some examples.) So I just don't get why Yann had to be scapegoated like that. I would've been fine with it if they hadn't made Yann leaving Lucas at the bench the damn cliffhanger for episode 6, if episode 6 had started with that scene and finished with the table football scene. But Skam France didn't want to have it like that, and yeah, it still bothers me. But I do like Yann, and I thought he was a great friend in s1 and s2.

Lucas/Kes: I feel like I don't have a ton of insight into this friendship, because Skam NL favors visuals over dialogue a lot. I feel like Lucas and Kes are only friends because they're both cool kids in the same way and they go to the same school, but nothing beyond that. Lucas comes across as a free agent, and Kes and Noah read as much closer with each other. That said, Lucas and Kes have the most sexual tension out of any Isak/Jonas pair (I'm thinking specifically of that dancing scene in the cabin episode), in a sort of unspoken way. I don't think Kes is into Lucas necessarily, but I feel like he does pick up on Lucas' crush subsconsciously and fucks with Lucas' head to test his reaction. So they're not the closest of friends in my opinion, but they have a unique dynamic among the pairs.

Martino/Giovanni: The thing about Giovanni is that I've had enough of this dude, essentially. I liked him well enough in s1 and s2, but I love Jonas V more than any Jonas and I really disliked how Giovanni was hailed not just as a better friend than Jonas V, but also the gold standard of what a best friend should be. And it's just weird as fuck to me that every remake Jonas should be compared not to the Skam character, but to a copy of this character played by a more conventionally attractive actor? And like... Don't tell me that's not a factor on why Giovanni has such a fandom, because I saw with my own eyes how Chris/Eva shippers reluctantly shipped Eva/Gio over Eva/Federico, because Giovanni is more gorgeous (and tbh, a better actor) than Federico. But anyway, Martino and Giovanni are fine, I'm just really tired of people bringing Giovanni up in any discussion about the Jonases.

Robbe/Jens: I watched Wtfock before s3 started, and I just never got the appeal of Robbe. I couldn't imagine why people were looking forward to his season because there was nothing interesting about him as far as I could see. (Whereas I find Yasmina more interesting.) As for Jens, I thought the actor was better looking than the one playing Luka, so it's one of those cases where I wondered why anyone would ship Jana/Luka based on looks alone, lol. And then s3 came along, and for whatever reason, the writers decided that they were going to make a plot point of Robbe urgently needing a place to live, and Jens turning down his requests to stay over. It's just so unlike what I'd expect a best friend to do, that I can't fuck with Robbe/Jens at all. I don't care if Jens later became the biggest LGBTI ally, that's a dick move.

BONUS

Cris/Amira: I don't really consider them an Isak/Jonas pair because they only have like... two scenes that I'd call Isak/Jonas scenes. Cris only ever crushed on Amira in my mind, and only ever ruined Amira's relationships with dudes in my mind, so they don't have that Isak/Jonas history. But I really love how Skam España approached and adapted this friendship for Cris. I love not just that Amira is Cris' Jonas, but how she is Cris' Jonas. They're childhood friends who are becoming two different women, and yet that's not a cause for them to grow apart, but to love and value each other more. Sometimes remakes rely on Skam for exposition, like we have to assume a remake character did this thing because that's the reason the Skam character did it, even if it's not actually stated in the remake in question. With Cris/Amira, Skam España actually relies on Skam to provide some context for who Amira is and what she gets out of her friendship with Cris before we've actually watched her season. We don't know everything that Amira went through when she started wearing hijab, but we can guess based on what we saw in Sana's season. And that's why the Amira/Cris friendship is so powerful, because Cris constantly professes that their friendship is forever. It's one of the cases where knowledge of Skam actually compliments the remake, rather than Skam doing heavy lifting for the remake.

[evak-elu-nicotino]

A Gio & Marti friendship fic - part I

Okay, so I needed to write a Gio & Marti fanfiction because their friendship is iconic, and I wanted to do something pre-canon.

I hope you’ll like it ! Please let me know what you think of it !

And I’ll never be grateful enough to my wonderful beta-reader, @unfinishedbusinessss. Thank you so much girl, you’re a gem, truly !

Thank you for reading !

Fandom : SKAM Italia

Relationships : Giovanni Garau & Martino Rametta

Words : 4646

Chapter : 1/? 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24143155/chapters/58132195

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I. My life is changing and I’m so lost

Martino Rametta just turned ten when his parents started fighting all the time. He was worried. Staying up quite late at night whenever he heard them screaming in the kitchen, oblivious to the fact that their own son had a whole day at a new school to worry about. Marti slipped through the door to his bedroom and stood in the hallway, eyes tearing up. He hated the fights between his parents. He hated hearing them screaming insults at each other. Fighting about stuff he knew nothing about, hearing words he couldn’t possibly understand. He was ten, for God’s sake. His parents were supposed to comfort him at night when he was having nightmares. Comfort him about changing schools right before junior high, not fight about a woman named Paola. He didn’t know anyone named Paola, and he had a feeling that this Paola wasn’t good news. Either for him, or for his parents.

Martino already heard the word divorce several times at this point in his life, in other discussions, other contexts. He knew what it meant, and he was scared. His dad meant everything to him, and his mom’s hugs were the best. Honestly, he couldn’t possibly comprehend how much a change this big in his life could mean. He laid in bed that night, eyes wide open, silently praying, even though he never believed in God. His parents never took him to church, even though he heard several times that they both grew up in religious families. But since his four grandparents died before he was born, he actually never entered a church in his life.

Elisabetta and Giancarlo Rametta were the only family he had, since neither of them had siblings, and neither did Martino. His parents were his whole world, and seeing them fight like that wasn’t reassuring at all. Martino wasn’t a confident child. Growing up, his parents told him all the right things: he was smart, beautiful, he could do whatever he wanted if he put his mind to it. Martino wasn’t lazy per se: he was just an almost-teenager who wanted nothing more than to play calcio with the kids in his neighborhood, whenever they invited him to join them. So for now, his mind was set on football, comic books, and reading. He was rather a quiet kid. Not really shy, but not really the type of kid you’d describe at exuberant and outgoing. He kept to himself, that’s all. He had a rather large imagination and could spend hours in his bedroom, sometimes drawing (rather badly, in his own words), sometimes just daydreaming, staring out the window. He grew up not having too many friends, and that was really fine with him. He honestly didn’t need a lot in his life, because he had the safety of a loving family and a few friends he could count on. That was more than enough to him.

Giovanni Garau was his best friend. They met on the first day of preschool, exchanged a few words, played football during recess, and that was that. They had been the closest friends could be ever since and honestly he couldn’t quite picture his life without Gio in it. And the fact that they managed to convince both set of parents to change schools a year before going to junior high was a fact he couldn’t possibly wrap his head around. Last year, Martino grew several inches. He got taller than any of the other kids in his class, but not really a classy kind of tall. He was the lanky kid that almost everyone started making fun of. And on top of that, Martino had brownish-red hair. Not the kind of in-your-face red hair, but still. He had freckles from a very early age, freckles that weren’t only on his face, but on his thighs, back, shoulders and neck as well. So yeah, being the tall, lanky redhead kid with freckles wasn’t exactly the most fun thing to live through.

As always though, Gio had his back. He was the one who talked to his parents and told them that Marti was having a tough time at school, kids making fun of him all the time, stealing his lunch, his homework, sometimes even his shoes whenever he was in PE class. At first, honestly Marti’s parents didn’t really take him seriously, but Marti, who was listening from the his own bedroom, door ajar, soon realized that his parents had his best interests at heart, and so did Gio. He talked to them for almost half an hour and when they finally said, “Okay Giovanni, I promise you we will think about it, thank you for telling us.” Martino almost couldn’t believe it. His best friend came back to his room, smiling like a madman. He looked so smug Marti almost wanted to smack his arm, but he was so grateful to him. He got up and hugged him hard. “Let me go Marti, you’re suffocating me,” Gio laughed, crinkled eyes and a smile tugging at his lips. “Seriously, if they say yes, I owe you big time. Those guys just...” Martino didn’t finish his sentence. Gio sat down on the bed and patted the sheet next to him. Marti sat on the bed, head hung low. “Hey, Martino, whatever happens, even if we don’t change schools, I’m always gonna be there for you, don’t you worry. I’ll be by your side day and night if need be. You should know that by now, nothing’s gonna stop me from protecting you.” He had such a serious look on his face. Marti had no other choice than to believe him. Thank God for Giovanni Garau.

II. Being a teenager : where’s the handbook ?

On his twelfth birthday, Martino wakes up to the smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen, and his mother bustling around, moving pots and pans from one side to another. He enters the room yawning, scratching his hair which sticks in every direction. His mom smiles up at him, and kisses him fondly on the cheek. “Happy birthday honey, I hope you’re gonna have an amazing day! Auguri!” He smiles up at her. The divorce didn’t go smoothly, but his dad behaved like a complete jackass. Martino is a little mad at him, to be honest. And most days, his mother is crying in her bedroom and the worst thing is: he can hear her, and there’s nothing he can do about it. So he huddles up into his bedsheets pulling up the blanket above his head, putting his earphones on, and falls asleep listening to some random songs. Being twelve isn’t exactly easy for Martino. Gio is starting to really show interest in girls and Martino just isn’t interested. He really can’t see the point of them: long hair, frilly clothes and pink shoes, sometimes lip gloss or even worse, lipstick. But he sees Gio’s gaze lighting up whenever he sees one, trying to chat them up, strike up a conversation, manage to get a laugh or two out of them. Just being his charming self, and sure, having baby blue eyes doesn’t hurt.

The girls, to be fair, seem quite interested to Martino as well. One or two of them actually talked to him once or twice and Marti’s gotta admit, he kinda understands what Gio sees in them. Some of them are pretty. But at the end of the day, Martino’s better off reading or listening to music. Or better yet, talking to Gio for hours and hours on end. He doesn’t mind that his best friend doesn’t have a girlfriend, to be honest, because when he will, he just knows that everything will be different. He’s not ready yet for their friendship to change. So he clings on to Gio like he’s his rock, which he kinda is.

One morning, Martino’s waiting for his best friend in front of his house, checking his watch every now and then. He frowns upon seeing that it’s already past 8:30 and Gio’s nowhere in sight. He knocks on the door, only to have his mom tell him that he already left for school. And then she adds, with a smile tugging at her lips, the sentence that’s gonna make Marti sad for the whole day. “He was with a brunette. I think her name is Laura, or something like that. Didn’t he tell you?” Marti smiles, nods, and wishes Mamma Garau a good day, before turning on his heel, on the verge of tears. How could Gio have stood him up like that? And more importantly, what was he doing with that girl from their class... Laura? He shows up at school, puts down his bag next to his chair, anger boiling inside of him. He bites the inside of his cheek as the teacher gets up in front of the class and starts the lesson of the day. Ignoring Gio’s repeated whispers to his right, Martino tries to concentrate on whatever la Prof. Marca is saying. But for whatever reason, his ears are ringing, and his cheeks are flush. His hands are somewhat shaking and he knows he has a right to be angry at his best friend for standing him up for some girl he barely knows. Although, deep down inside, Martino has a feeling this isn’t the typical reaction you have when a close friend of the same gender gets a crush on a girl. His stomach drops a little, and he shakes his head, trying to think about something else. Anything else but the fact that the feeling he recognizes in his gut is called... Jealousy. Martino wakes in the middle of the night, drenched in his own sweat, and he frowns, disgusted by his own smell. He gets up, changes pajamas, puts on deodorant, and even takes the time to actually change his sheets. He focuses on the tasks, meticulously. His brain is reeling, heart beating so fast he was actually scared of having a panic attack. He has to forget the dream he just had, nothing makes sense. He goes into the bathroom, glances up at the clock. 4:17AM. And he has a big English test tomorrow. He needs to get some sleep before heading to school, or his mother will let him know how she’s furious with him for getting a bad grade. A grade he knows he’ll get if he doesn’t go back to sleep as soon as possible.

He turns off the lights and lies in his bed, eyes wide open, willing sleep to just come and take him peacefully. Half an hour later, Martino’s brain gone to places he just hates so much. He’s in the middle crisis of self-loathing, when he can’t take it anymore. He gets up, and slips into the bathroom, taking a glass of water, trying to think about something else. Honestly, anything else would be better than this torture.

Marti knows that generally speaking, teenage years are the toughest to get through. Sometimes identity and sexuality crisis can happen. It can be the time of your life when you start to figure out... stuff. But he really can’t wrap his head around the fact that he just had this dream. A dream that makes him recoil every time he thinks about it. God, what did he do in a previous life to deserve such a karma... Honestly?! At 6:30AM, when he finally gives up and decides that he won’t get back to sleep before his alarm goes off, he gets up again and prepares himself some breakfast. He’s in the middle of his second piece of toast when he hears his mom gets up as well. She enters the kitchen and makes a beeline for the coffee machine. Marti would gladly do the same, if only he was allowed to drink coffee. His mom has decided that twelve years old isn’t old enough and that it could mess with his still developing brain and body. She looks over to her son, smiles, then notices the dark circles under his eyes. She puts down her coffee mug and sits across from him, worry written all over her face. “Everything alright honey? You look like you haven’t slept at all...” Martino sighs, and runs a hand over his own face. “No Mamma, don’t worry, I just had a...nightmare, and woke up drenched in sweat. Couldn’t go back to sleep afterwards. Nothing to worry about.” His mom looks worried though. He tries to smile reassuringly, but fails miserably. He’s not really feeling up to going to school today, but he really doesn’t have a choice.

He puts his brave face on, gets up, brushes his teeth, puts on his favorite shirt, and grabs his backpack before giving his mom a kiss on the cheek. “Bye Mamma, have a good day, and please stop worrying. Okay?” She bites her lip, and Marti smiles at her. “Hey don’t worry, I’ll sleep better tonight, that’s all! Nothing to worry about! It’s not the end of the world. Stop worrying and go to work, you’re gonna be late,” he says, before closing the door of their flat behind him. He takes a deep breath and exhales shakily, eyes closed. No time to dwell on his dream from last night, which is still in the back of his mind.

Goddammit, this day is gonna be a long one.

III. Don’t ask me that

Martino’s fourteenth birthday was celebrated a few weeks ago, when his mother drops the topic he certainly didn’t expect in the middle of his carbonara pasta. He made it from scratch, since his mom lost her interest for anything cooking related a few months after his dad left. Martino’s actually quite good at it and his carbonara tastes amazing. He’s enjoying it, when he hears Mamma Rametta clearing her throat, which is NEVER a good sign. Generally it means that she’s getting ready to talk about a delicate subject. He lifts an eyebrow, curious as to what topic she wants to discuss. “Martino, you know, fourteen is an important age. What I mean by that, is that a lot of young people nowadays...” She interrupts herself, clearly not at ease discussing the subject. Marti looks like a deer in headlights; he’s frozen in his seat. He takes a deep breath and braces himself for what’s about to come at him. “You need to protect yourself, honey,” his mom finally says, and he groans from embarrassment. “Mom, please, can we PLEASE not have this discussion?! I beg you!” he says through gritted teeth, closing his eyes. God, this is the worst time to talk about this. He’s already dealing with the million disturbing thoughts he’s having about...well, girls, and the fact that apparently they’re just not that appealing to him. He’s afraid to dwell on that thought, so he just buries himself into drawing and reading. That’s a good enough solution to his problem for now. It works... for now, at least. She shakes her head, the wrinkles around her eyes crease a little more. She looks serious now. “Martino, girls and boys your age are generally very... enthusiastic and go quite far sometimes...without using condoms, or any idea of what they’re doing. So I want you to be prepared, and to never do something you’re not ready for.” “Oh my God Mamma, really? Are we really having this conversation now, in the middle of dinner? Dinner that I made from scratch?” “Martino, come on. You’re not giving me much to go on here.” “No, because I don’t want to! This is my private life you’re hinting at and I’m not discussing it with you.” He pushes back his plate on the table, and inhales deeply. No need to get worked up over this kind of conversation, he thinks to himself, she’s just looking out for him. He knows that, deep down, but he really doesn’t want to think about it. Any of it. Girls, sex, nothing. It’s not like he has a girlfriend anyway. Gio is much more advanced in that area, he noticed. He has had a girlfriend for a few months now, that brunette, Laura. Sure, she’s nice enough, pretty and funny, but what is it with girls exactly? He just can’t see what the big deal is, honestly!

In front of him, Elisabetta Rametta lifts an eyebrow, and just smiles at him, before putting her hand on his. “Is there anyone you like at school?” Martino gets up so fast his head starts to spin a little. He would run away from the kitchen, but the flat is not that big and he has nowhere else to go. “Please stop Mamma, te l’ho già detto, I already told you, I’m not discussing it with you.” She smiles knowingly, and it annoys the crap out of him. “Oh so you like someone, don’t you?” That’s it. He’s had enough of this nonsense. He storms out of the kitchen, leaving dishes, plates, glasses, cutlery, everything on the table, and just stomps into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Thank God his dad actually put a lock on his door, so he’s able to just put his headphones on and ignore his mom trying to talk some sense into him through the door. He puts on music, volume up, and just lays on his bed, eyes shut. God, he wishes he could be anywhere else right now.

IV. Crumbling down

Martino’s fifteen and he’s struggling like hell. Gio’s drifting further and further from him with every day that passes. He’s madly in love with Laura and Marti hates it with every fiber of his being. Terrified to uncover what it could possibly mean, he spends most of his time daydreaming. He avoids his best friend at all costs, which isn’t really hard. Laura and Gio spend all their time together anyway. They seem to be kissing every time Martino looks at them, and it makes him want to throw up so bad. At home, Martino’s mom dropped the subject of sex, and he is relieved to no end. He found a pack of condoms on his bedside table one day after school, with a note folded and taped to it. He opened it to find a somewhat endearing speech from Mamma Rametta, saying how much she understands that talking about it can be difficult, but that she’s here if he needs to talk. And that in the meantime, he needs to look after himself and to use condoms if he wants to have sex with someone. Marti sits on his bed, staring at the piece of paper, puzzled. He notices how his mom didn’t use the term girlfriend or girl, in her note. He might be reading too much into it, but the weight in his chest lifts a little.

Truth is, Martino Rametta has the biggest problem of all time. Last month, he stumbled upon an article which made his breath catch in his chest, and his heart skip a beat. His mom left a newspaper on the table, right before heading to work. It was Saturday, 13th of March. He remembers the date oh so clearly. His eyes fixed on the bold letters of the title: “Italians progressively changing their mind on same-sex marriage: a change incoming?” To his horror, Martino felt tears well up in his eyes, and he closed the paper forcefully. He hated this stupid newspaper, hated Italians, hated himself. He didn’t want to deal with it, with any of it. He just wanted his life to stay the same. He wanted to have a girlfriend, to be straight, to be normal. He wanted to fade into the crowd, not stand out because he was different than his classmates. He didn’t want to really address that question, the one that had been buried in the back of his mind for several months now. It all started in the locker room. They were on their way out of the PE class. Marti sat down on the bench, still catching his breath from all extra running laps they had to do. Only Gio and himself, just because Boccia decided that they were talking too much during class. Everyone had already left, of course By the time they reached the changing room, Gio scoffed dramatically, “Boccia is really a stronzo, making us run all these extra laps! Seriously, who the fuck does he think he is?” Marti chuckled. “The gym teacher, maybe?” he jokes lightly, removing his socks before they get all wet. The floor is disgusting as fuck. The other guys probably got out of the showers still dripping wet. They made a mess and didn’t bother to clean up after themselves. Marti gets up from the bench and his foot starts slipping. He screams, arms waggling, trying to steady himself, but to no avail. An arm slips around his middle, and puts him upright. Martino blushes a deep red when he realizes that Gio is squeezed against him, torso against his back, thighs against thighs, his warm hand right above his boxers. He can feel him everywhere and it’s too much, all off a sudden. Fuck fuck fuck!

“Thanks mate,” he mutters under his breath. He curses internally, almost runs to the showers, eager to drop his boiling thoughts under the water. “Everything okay Marti?” he hears Gio’s voice behind him before he steps into the shower stall. He closes his eyes, back to him. “Yeah,” he croaks, “almost fell and can’t seem to catch my breath! Talk about being in bad shape,” he laughs, trying to drown his shame and guilt. Stepping under the water and cries silently under the shower. He knows he’s known for quite some time now. He just knows that he’s attracted to guys. He just knows. The way he ignore girls and focuses on boys isn’t just a phase. Tries so hard to feel something for girls. Tries to get excited at the prospect of spending some time alone with one of them. But no matter how hard he tries, it’s still not working. Nobody has touched him before Gio. It’s not even a romantic gesture. Gio just caught him before he fell face first on the changing room floor, which could be a metaphor for his whole life, at this point. Gio is being an amazing best friend and Marti’s here, thinking about him that way. He can’t do this. He has no right to. He has no right to imagine Gio in his arms, in his bed, trying to kiss him senseless. Oh, he definitely can’t go there while showering next to his best friend. Naked best friend, his brain not so helpfully supplies. He groans into the crook of his elbow and closes his eyes again. He has to do something, anything, to try and prevent this from happening. He can’t be gay, right?

V. Please send help.

Martino is sitting on his couch, frowning at his biology textbook. His brain hurts, his legs hurt because he played calcio for several hours with the neighbors. His heart hurts because he now has a huge crush on his best friend, and everything sucks, really. Plus, he really hates biology. And he needs help. He grabs his phone, texts Gio, and drops his textbook next to him before closing his eyes. The flat is quiet, his mom has picked up a few extra hours at work and Martino’s grateful for the time he can spend alone. He needs it more than ever these days. His behavior has changed, slowly. He’s falling into patterns he hates, like lying about anything and everything. He’s hiding and he hates it, but for now that’s all he can do, really. Self-loathing has become his best friend; sadly replacing Gio. Gio who is supportive as ever, being the best friend Martino doesn’t deserve. Every time Marti shows up late at school, Gio is at the entrance, waiting for him with a smile tugging at his lips, as if nothing has changed. As if Martino doesn’t blush whenever he thinks about Giovanni. As if he doesn’t want to kiss his best friend as long as he can. As if Martino isn’t betraying their friendship. Marti sighs again, and picks up his phone. A text from Gio. He freezes when he reads it. “I’m on my way, I need to talk to you.” Martino closes his eyes and fights through a panic attack. 

Gio knows, he knows. 

He’s coming here to yell at him, to insult him, to call him names and to ask him to never talk to him again. Oh God, this is the end, Marti thinks, full-on panicking now. He gets up, wants to scream into a pillow, wants to run away from here. He wants to hide and die in a corner, where no one can find him. He doesn’t deserve a friend like Giovanni Garau, and now Gio knows it too. Marti cries into his own shirt, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He hates himself with a passion, and he wishes he could vanish into thin air. A knock on the door, and before Martino can even answer, Gio opens it and finds his best friend sobbing on the couch. “Hey, Marti,” he runs towards the redhead, who’s crying like a child. “Please, don’t hate me,” he says, swallowing his guilt and grief. “Please, don’t leave me.” Gio flops down on the couch next to him and hugs him without saying anything. What the hell happened to his best friend? Who made him this miserable? “Martino, talk to me. You can’t go on like this, you have to talk to someone, or else you’re gonna have a breakdown. I’m here, I’m your best friend, talk to me mate!” Gio whispers against his best friend’s shoulder. “I think I have a problem,”Marti whispered back, eyes still closed, trying to calm down. He doesn’t want to talk about it, not really, but he feels like he doesn’t have a choice. It’s either this or he’s gonna end up crazy.

Life sucks right now, and maybe he shouldn’t do this, maybe he should keep to himself, but the words fall out of his lips before he can even help it. “Gio... I think I don’t like girls.” A beat. Marti looks up at his best friend, who’s still snuggled up against him, body entirely turned towards him, and he can feel him smile against his shoulder. “Okay,” Gio says slowly, his eyes sincere, and full of affection. “Why do you say you have a problem then?” Martino feels tears welling up, and he swallows against the lump in his throat. A weight is lifted off his chest, and he feels like he can breathe again. “Gio, come on. You know as well as I do that it’s gonna be painful. And hard. And people are gonna hate me. And call me names.” Before he can even finish his sentence, Giovanni stands up, looking angry. “Like hell they will, Marti! Do you think I won’t be there for you? Do you think I’d leave you once I knew that you were gay?” Marti recoils. He hates that word. It embodies hate and fear, and he’s scared of it, more than he’s willing to admit. “Don’t say that,” Gio says, softly. He flops back down on the couch next to Martino, and grabs his shoulder. “Don’t think for a second there that I’m gonna leave you alone to fight this through. What kind of a friend do you think I am?” Marti smiles through his tears. He’s exhausted, all of a sudden. Coming out for the first time of his life, to Giovanni Garau, his best friend, was definitely the right choice.

[lowrollshighhopes]

Sunland Episode Thirty-nine and Forty - Party Time

Episode Thirty-nine: Preparations

The party spent the next few days resting, organising their outfits for the party, and spending some time in the Dwarven Bathhouse.

George spent his time training, and Cam offered to scry on behalf of her friends. Harmony used magic to speak to his family, who were all doing well and were relieved to hear from him. Cam checked in on her sister, who seemed to be fine, although back in the family home. Jorgurk was on his ship, still sailing back to Averhill.

Hope asked Cam to scry on a friend of hers, a half-elf paladin, who proved hard to scry on, but eventually Cam caught a glimpse of him repelling suaghin from the beach of a small village. Hope seemed entirely unsurprised that he was in combat. Najica proved too hard to scry on, and when Cam attempted to scry on someone named Teddy, she found no target for her spell at all.

Cam talked with Lord Thail, learning a bit of his family history, and on the day of the celebrations the party and Vibren watched the parade, led by King Martino and Princess Telula before returning to Thail’s manor to dress for the party.

Vibren wanted to take Gutsy to the party, and Cam wanted to invite the pixies, so she summoned them on the steps of the palace and asked them to transform Gutsy into something smaller.

It was party time.

Episode Forty: Party Time

The party started slowly. King Martino and Princess Telula greeted the guests with charm and warmth, and the party was ushered into a grand ballroom. Servants bearing trays circulated among the guests; a collection of Silring’s rich and powerful. The pixies circulated too; eating and drinking and playing minor pranks on the guests.

After a fancy dinner, the dancing started in earnest, and George put his name down for a dance with the princess, although her dance book was filling fast. Cam left to resummon the pixies, who were keeping Gutsy in a hideable form, so Vibren and Hope rather awkwardly danced.

While Harmony lurked at the edge of the room, someone whispered, “Pst! Hey, magic man!” in his ear, but when he looked around no one was their.

His invisible interlocutor indicated Master Arlos, calling his blank demeanor sad and describing him as an ‘efferlicious piece of cheese.’ George noticed Harmony’s one-sided conversation and made his way over in time to hear the voice ask for Harmony’s help in breaking the curse on Euphoria Arlos and restoring his emotions.

Hope was suspicious and as she approached she cast detect evil and good, revealing the invisible person to be a fiend. Upon demand to show himself, the creature suggested a private alcove. Safely out of sight, the invisibility ended, revealing an imp wearing a green silk vest, who introduced himself as Pixozzak.

He explained that during a trip to the feywild with Euphoria, his master, he had been distracted by some dryads and Euphoria had gone off to have a drink with a fey, returning blank-faced and holding a crystal bottle. The bottle now slowly filling sits on his desk in his rooms, and since Arlos no longer feels anything, he’s not motivated to destroy it. Pixozzak was not allowed to touch Arlos’s things without permission and thus he had to resort to outside help. He was even offering a reward, an enormous diamond, if the party would promise to complete the task.

Hope was suspicious and vehemently opposed making any deals, but agreed to investigate at least, as there truly did seem to be something wrong with the tiefling. The imp stowed the diamond away, and produced a key, along with directions to Master Arlos’s rooms in the palace.

The party made their way there without any trouble, and the key did indeed fit the lock.

The room on the other side, however, was totally unexpected, a sunlight-filled tower, a waterfall cascading off a balcony into a pool, in the centre of which a trio of magically animated instruments played pleasant music, and stone archways either side revealing flights of stairs upward.

Harmony made towards one and the floor dropped out beneath him into a stone slide. Cam used her thorn whip to rescue him an as the party investigated further they learned both that there was an identical trap on the other side, and that both traps were actually illusions. Upon approaching the doorways, they too turned out to be illusions, and a sign in glowing script advised those attempting to enter to ‘sober up first.’ At this point Cam’s pixies arrived as backup, and the tempo of the chill low-fi medieval beats to study and relax to changed to something more stirring as the instruments switched to a combat mix and a handful of blindingly fast tiny fey appeared to do battle alongside the animated instruments against the intruders.

None of the tower’s defences were particularly deadly, but they fey’s tiny blades were laced with sleeping poison, and were powerful enough to return most of the pixies to where they were summoned from.

Eventually, the fey and constructs were defeated and the search for the bottle could begin in earnest. Further investigation revealed both the waterfall and the tower itself to be an illusion, and when Harmony dispelled it the ceiling of an ordinary palace room appeared. Hope felt her way around the walls and discovered two doors, one leading to a fairly ordinary study, and the other to a bedroom. On the desk in the latter room was a beautiful bottle of etched crystal, nearly two-thirds full of a gently glowing, multicoloured liquid. Harmony’s identify spell confirmed the artifact was working essentially as the imp had explained.

Although Hope was wielding only a cake knife, she had transformed it into a magic weapon and she managed to shatter the crystal, sending a blast of wayward emotion out towards the door, back to whom it belonged.

Job done, Cam was desperate to leave and see the effect they’d had but as soon as she left the bedroom she ran into someone waiting on the other side. This entity was taller and broader than an elf, wearing gleaming gold cloth and draped in a cloak of ivy leaves. Flowers bloomed in his blond beard. He did not look happy. He called the party ‘mortal thieves’ and appeared to see right through Hamony’s invisibility spell.

He claimed that the crystal bottle did not in fact belong to Euphoria, who he claimed was a friend, but was in fact on loan. Hope had broken it, and he would (maybe) collect on what she now owed him.

The pixies were delighted to see him, and with a lordly wave of his hand he resummoned Solaris’s whole crew.

When asked his name he introduced himself as Elzorfiel of Thase Tirion, the Midsummer Marvel, and asked if it was always this cold here in midsummer. Hope and George tried to explain about the hags and he seemed vaguely sympathetic to the cause, but more interested in enlivening the ‘absolutely terrible party’ he could hear elsewhere in the castle.

If the party needed help with hags, Euphoria might be able to help them, once he got over the return of his emotions. In the meantime, the archfey had a party to grace with his presence, and he swept down the hallway towards the ballroom, his entourage of pixies following.

The party was far from over.