#and then it's said that the only ones that play with him sometimes are Luchino and Wu Chang.

[beeholyshit]

I'm gonna cry

[fredrickslizard]

Fredrick x Luchino (human)

*Maybe some light smut, kissing, hand holding, alcohol. Idk this is my first fanfic in over 10 years idk how you kids do it these days. Also I'm sorry if it's bad, I'm not great at describing music*

Anyways here we go!

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They had both been at the manor for quite some time now, each participating in various matches, sometimes being paired together sometimes not. Though the two shared the same space and played the same game Fredrick and Luchino didn't know one another all too well. Sure they've spoken in passing or called out in matches but they've never really taken the time to get to know one another.

Fredrick spent most of his free time at the piano he found in the manor. Tapping away at its keys, letting the notes that played in his head guide his fingers. It brought him some sense of comfort after particularly grueling matches. To let the music in his head flow freely and form whatever melodies. Sometimes they were slow sonatas. Other times they were wild fortes that reflected his frustrations with the match and his teammates. Today was one of those days.

Fredrick's brows were tightly knit together as he played. His hands gliding across the keyboard with purpose and each note played echoed out into the hallways. The rhythm he played was fast and intense and without realizing it he was mumbling to himself.

"Can't keep the hunter away.." he mumbled, "Just lead them right to me-"

The tone of his playing takes a turn, changing its sound to one similar to a terrible thunderstorm. Fredrick was practically pounding on the keys of the piano, unaware of the attention his playing had caught.

"Not a single one of them knows that they're doing!" Fredrick's playing was reaching a crescendo when a voice from behind broke his train of thought.

"Rough day, huh?" The voice asked.

Fredrick's playing came to a immediate stop, hitting a few sour notes out of surprise. He tosses a sharp glance over his shoulder to find its only that professor, the one with an odd obsession with reptiles. It took all that he had to not let out an audible sigh of annoyance when the man leaning on the doorframe decided to walk into the room with him, a tall green bottle in hand. Wonderful. He's probably drunk. Though the space was open for all to use Fredrick still couldn't help but feel like this was his private space.

"Just a bad match." He replied as he watched the professor claim a seat on a nearby couch.

"Sorry to hear that," Luchino responded, "Must have been pretty rough from the sound of it." He says as his eyes travel from Fredrick to the piano and back.

"Is there something you want?" He asks sharply.

"Oh nothing in particular. Found this while rummaging around," he holds up the green bottle and gives it a light shake as if to show it off, "And decided to find someone to share it with. By the sounds of it you could use something to relax a bit."

"No thank you." Fredrick quickly turns back to the piano and places his hands on the keys once more. He was about to start playing again when weight plopped down on the bench beside him. He quickly looks at Luchino who was now wearing a small grin across his lips, "What are you doin-"

Without a moments notice Fredrick's chin had been grasped in one of Luchino's hands and their lips pressed firmly together. The taste of wine floods his mouth with only a few drops escaping. Fredrick's eyes are wide with shock and he could feel his cheeks burning a bright red by the time Luchino pulled away. The professor gives him a smirk and wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

Fredrick was dumbfounded. He didn't know how to react to what had just happened but he did know that it had his undivided attention, and part of him wanted to taste that kiss again.

"Keep the bottle." Luchino said as he got up from the bench to leave, still wearing that stupid smirk of his. Fredrick quickly stood, pushing the bench back as he did. He wasn't thinking about his actions at the time, only following what instinct told him to do. Though it wasn't the distraction from his failed match he was expecting to have, it was a welcomed one and one he didn't want to leave yet as he cast a quick glance at the wine bottle..

Luchino had made it to the couches that sat in the middle of the room before a hand grabbed his arm and forcefully turned him back around. Grabbing the collar of the professor's shirt in each of his hands Fredrick pulled him into a deep kiss, sharing the wine in his mouth the same way it had been shared with him. Luchino drank the wine and placed his hands on the composer's hips, holding him firmly. Their tongues swirled together as their kiss grew in intensity. Luchino's hands would find its way to the nape of Fredrick's neck as the composer pressed closer against the other male.

The two only broke from the kiss to take quick breaths before returning to the heat that kept drawing them in.

'How can I be allowing this to happen?' He would ponder to himself through hazy thoughts, 'I don't even know who he is! But he tastes so divine..'

Only when the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard did Luchino break the kiss and take a step back. Fredrick groaned at the abrupt end to his euphoria.

"My name is Luchino, by the way." He says as he brushes his hair back through his fingers and straightens out his shirt. "Hopefully that made your day better and maybe we can share another bottle sometime~" He says with a grin.

"I-I'd like that.." Fredrick responds, his mind still a bit hazy from how quickly things had escalated. "Fredrick."

"Well, Fredrick, I hope to see you again very soon." Luchino gently cups Fredrick's face and places a gentle kiss as a parting gift. And with that he leaves the room to greet those that are in the hall.

Fredrick returns to the piano bench and takes a seat. He stares at the keys, replaying the event that had only taken a few minutes over in his head. It was so random, unprompted, he barely even knew the man! And yet.. he found himself wishing that moment could have lasted just a little bit longer. He places his hands over the keys and smiles softly to himself. His day was made a bit brighter after all.

[pochiperpe90]

Points of view – The Interview: Luca Marinelli

How do you approach your characters. 

Sometimes I also wonder how I get to the character. For “Non essere cattivo”, I had a very detailed script and a fascinating director at my disposal, so I didn't struggle to relate. It was a very brave script for the way it dealt with reality. At first my auditions went in the direction of Vittorio's character but also knowing the figure of Cesare, more than once I thought I would like to play him. I saw the auditions of others and I stopped to think how I could have done Cesare. Then at a certain point I remember that Claudio looked at Valerio and told him that it would be better to reverse the roles, to let me try Cesare, and so it went. When I read the script of “Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot”, the first thing that struck me, besides the courageous imagination, was to understand how a film of this kind could be made. 

In the first part of your career, you brought an image of introverted and staid youth to the screen. Was this a choice. 

Absolutely not. Or rather yes, it was the choice of those who met me first. Perhaps a part of my personality has been seen that could best marry the characters in question. It happened both in “La solitudine dei numeri primi” by Saverio Costanzo and later with Virzì in "Tutti i santi giorni", then it can be said that with Casare of “Non essere cattivo” and the Zingaro of “Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot” I was allowed to turn things around slightly, to play a character who had a disposition and behavior that was completely the opposite of what I had faced previously. 

What do you remember about your debut with Saverio Costanzo. 

He was my initiation into cinema, I came from the Academy and I had no idea what it was like to work on a set. The best memory, in addition to the experience of the film with him and Alba, is the first meeting, the first audition, where I really understood that I strongly wanted to work with him and that if this had happened I would have ended up in the hands of a great author. 

With that film you found yourself in the main competition of the Venice Film Festival. What memories do you have of that first time at the lido. 

Of a huge confusion and a big headache. We were tossed around from one interview to another and not only that, because the worst thing was always answering the same questions, and I was terribly worried not to make the situation even more boring for the machine operator, who never changed, and I don't think could take it longer to hear the same phrases over and over. Fortunately, Alba was there as well and saved me in more than one interview. The experience helped me because the following times I knew slightly more what I was going through and how to manage situations and keep stress at bay. Or maybe not yet, it's a long way. 

I noticed that when you talk about your job you do it using the verb “to play” (giocare). Is it a coincidence or the choice has a precise meaning. 

Perhaps it’s not a coincidence that in English the term recite is said precisely in this way because in my opinion to play, or the French jouez, represents the feeling of freedom and fun that is inherent in the job I do, better. As far as I'm concerned, the moment of the take is when the actor has to stop thinking, abandon worries, to be able to bring out the energy of his character. He has to play with the same seriousness and commitment with which a child does. I remember a piece of advice from Carlo Cecchi on the fact that in acting counts listening and the here and now. Being actively present to oneself and to others at that exact moment.

You have a method for achieving this condition. 

If someone asked me something about technique, I wouldn't know what to answer, apart from listening. On the set of Andrea Molaioli's film in which I am the father of the young protagonist, the actor who plays him, Ludovico, who is really good, full of talent and very smart, once asked me what was the technique to make the best of the character, and the only thing I felt able to advise him was to try to be present in that moment and then to let go, listen and not think about the rest. 

But I imagine that there are also practical aspects in the preparation that precedes the start of filming. 

As for me, I try to prepare as much as I can before arriving on set because at the start of the shoot it would be good to be ready. But not everything happens automatically, in the sense that you can’t always find the character immediately. However, I have always been lucky enough to have more or less long periods of rehearsal before starting a film. I remember this moment with Saverio and Alba, where we spent weeks among us and also with the kids who would have played us as children, to try the various scenes and to create a union and harmony between the characters. The same happened with Paolo Virzì, Thony and I, more than once we gather, facing the script, to clarify all the passages and moments of the scenes. 

And how did things go with Claudio Caligari. 

The same thing also happened with Claudio even though the illness made everything more complicated for him. He asked us to change our bodies, to participate in the auditions of the other actors. This allowed all of us, the cast, to integrate and develop a unity of purpose and a truly rare familiarity. So in front of the camera it seemed to me that the gang, to which Cesare and Vittorio belonged, was really part of my life, that it wasn’t hard to pass from Luca to Cesare, because I had found him. And always to identify with the environment of the story, I preferred a house in Ostia, and Alessandro often came to me from Rome to spend time between the two of us. Claudio, in addition to having reading meetings together, also showed us films that were a source of inspiration for him for this film, such as “Accattone” by Pier Paolo Pasolini, “Rocco e i suoi fratelli” by Luchino Visconti and “Mean Sreet” by Martin Scorsese.

Instead, I wanted to ask you what happens between takes, for example when you come home after a day of work. You stay inside the character as it happens to Daniel Day Lewis, or you put it aside and think of something else like Marcello Mastroianni did. 

I try to disconnect from the set. I try. I go home and try to do something else, but the last thought before falling asleep always goes to the next day's work plan and I leave myself a few minutes for the memory and concentration useful for tomorrow and then I close my eyes.  

We asked Roberta Mattei and we ask you too. During the processing you were aware of the exceptional nature of what you were doing. 

Yes. Let me explain: I saw with my own eyes that what was happening was exceptional, a man who was dying wanted to give his latest work to the public, to his audience, to his people, to people. This has no equal for me. Don't think about yourself in such a situation but about others.

Then it was the turn of Lo chiamavano Jeeg Robot. 

I shot Jeeg Robot in March 2014, and therefore before “Non essere cattivo”. The fact that Mainetti's film is only coming out now is due to the long post-production period necessary to assemble the shot with the special effects present in the film. 

Here as well it was an interpretation and a character who completely overturns the transparent and pristine image of the first part of your career. 

To make Jeeg Robot we had to convince each other, Gabriele Mainetti and I, about my success in the character. I pushed him towards a theatricality and Gabriele towards a real madness, a pure pain. In the end, I think we have found the right amount. 

The construction of the Zingaro was already very clear in the writing and it was up to us, however, to find its true aspect. 

Guiding him is this crazy and boundless ego, and the obsession with having to leave a mark. The Zingaro's eccentricity is partly reflected in his look, halfway between a rock star and a suburban bully. For the costumes and make-up we were inspired by the great rock icons. We dared in some choices, such as the black coat with pink leopard lining that characterize the wardrobe. For the aspects related to the way of performing, his model was Anna Oxa and in particular the video of her at Sanremo, when she sings “Un’emozione da poco”. 

In part you have already answered, but I wanted to know how you choose to accept the proposals that are made to you and if you have any foreclosures towards television, or more generally towards commercial cinema. 

I choose the proposals on the basis of love at first sight that must happen with the film, with its screenplay. Then figure out who will be leading the film, meet the director. I don't have any kind of foreclosure, let's say that if I don't like something I don't do it and if I like it I do. And it doesn't matter if it's cinema or television. 

As a spectator what is the cinema you love. 

I like films that have something to say and that I also choose based on who directed and starred in it. Usually when they ask me to name some titles I have a void. Think that the same thing happened to me also during the audition to enter the experimental center, when Lina Wertmuller asked me the title of a film I had seen recently. I was struck by a cosmic void and instead of naming her an authoritative and important film I left her stunned by citing Batman, I think Nolan's first, still a good film, but I still had Wertmuller in front of me... But to go back to what you asked me, I tell you that in general I always like to watch films that come from Sundance, of which I remember, for example “Like Crazy”, which I found disarmingly beautiful, the films of P.T. Anderson, Wes Anderson, the Cohen, there are many, and among the Italians those played by Alba Rohrwacher, Valerio Mastandrea, Elio Germano, Kim Rossi Stuart and directed by Alice Rohrwacher, Costanzo, Virzì, Sorrentino, Garrone, Salvatores. Without forgetting those of the great Joaquin Phoenix. But in reality I look at everything, let's say that I try not to lose anything of these. 

Despite the certificates of esteem you have received for your performances, the impression is that of an understatement that almost seems not to be aware of what you have achieved so far as an actor. 

Whenever I see a film of mine I always think there is something I could have done better. But basically I'm happy with what I've done so far. Having said that, I think that the films alone should be enough to explain everything and that the interviews don’t add anything new to what there was to say before making them. But when I am in the dance, when I need to promote, I am committed to doing it in the best possible way. I strongly think that in life and at work it’s important to demonstrate that you know how to do and not to show at all costs that you do.

DREAMINGCINEMA

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)

[yanderefantasies]

𖦹BACK BY UNPOPULAR DEMAND, ME!!! ON TODAYS EPISODE OF "WHAT TF DID DUMB-LITTLE-IDIOT WROTE TODAY" IS:

𖦹Frankeinsten!Au(??)

𖦹Au introduction➢

Death

A concept that for some may bring fear

To others, it brings questions

Some even felt happy when the topic was brought

But why were they happy for?

Why they were so afraid of the day where their body would stop functioning?

Oh there were so many questions

Questions that nobody wanted to answer

Questions that nobody wanted to be answered

But we shouldn't dwell on those questions at the moment

You had an experiment to execute

Some days had passed since one of your experiments had come to life

Even if just for some minutes, your years of research finally paid off

So many years studying the human body

So many years accidentally electrifying yourself

So many years of the gods stopping you from reaching your goal

But now

You had done it

You had finally done it

You had brought the dead to life

Oh you longed for the answers for what happens after death that the once-dead body would tell you

Was there a God out there?

What was their name?

Were the Greeks right?

Or the Egyptians?

Or maybe the atheists?

Are we just a rock floating out there in the vast space?

Oh so many questions and oh so many answers

But happiness doesn't last for long

Of course, the experiment had to go back to their eternal sleep

Bloody hell

Why cant those people stop being so selfish

It wouldn't hurt to stay alive for some bloody hours, or even minutes

You had so many questions

But so little time

And all of these people were so ungrateful

You brought them to life

You gave them another chance to live

And yet not even a simple "thank you" exited their dry and slightly rotten lips

Even the youngest people seemed to become rude after death

They were so ungrateful

So disgusting

So...so-

UGH!!!

Then a sudden pain stopped your line of thought

The scalpel that you were holding penetrated your calloused hand

You would have to remember to clean it soon

Soon after you disposed of your anger that had been accumulating since your fourth experiment

And now, you would make sure to not hold back

You knew that nobody could recognize the body

Or else they would probably come to you

But you would make sure that not even the gods that watched you wretched figure disfiguring the body of the poor unfortunate soul that had the sad destiny to end up in your experiment table were unable to be recognized by them

They would call you a madman

Just like your professor Diruse had called you

He said it was dangerous

That it was an insane wish

Nobody should interfere with "god's plan"

"God's plan" your ass

You would show them that you weren't insane

You would show them all

You would open their eyes for the secrets that were hidden from them for centuries

And then

Nobody had to suffer anymore

Nobody would have to see their loved ones die

Nobody would have to accept death

Nobody would ever suffer

Just like you did on that unfortunate day

The day that death took everything from your

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𖦹➢

→on this Au!, the reader takes a similar role as Victor Frankenstein

→after the mysterious death of their now-dead partner, the reader lives the rest of their life searching for how to bring someone back to life

→Luchino in this Au! is on his human form, he works as the science professor where the reader studies

→Luchino understand the distress that the reader is going through at the moment, but he keeps trying to convince the reader to stop with their experiments that, in the worst case, could end up in their death

→Ouroboros(Antonio) though, is very interested in Reader's experiments, even going as far as support them financially so they wouldn't give up on their experiments

→after discovering about Luchino, Ouroboros keeps trying to make the reader stop talking to Luchino, as he sees him as an "obstacle" to the reader's progress

.

→I am VERY tired right now sadly, I don't have a lot of ideas to keep writing but here are some of the roles of some characters and the relationship that they have with the reader( I'm only putting the ones that have A LOT of importance in this Au, I didn't put everyone or else it would be too long)

.

(Note:  They are still yandere for the reader depending on how the reader sees it, this is not how the characters see the reader, but yes how they see them)

→Luchino Diruse: Luchino is the reader's science teacher, he considers the reader as one of his best students, but since the death of their lover and the start of their research on how to bring the dead back to life, he has been extremely worried for the reader. He tries to convince them to stop but his warnings seem to fall on deaf ears( relationship: Questionable, because of Ouroboros influence, the reader started to see him as an obstacle)

→Ouroboros/Antonio Paganini: Ouroboros liked to see himself as one of the most powerful scientists to exist, sometimes, he also saw himself as a god, but that was only his gigantic ego talking, the moment that he saw the reader buying some items at the black market, Antonio decided to follow them home, "What would that simple mortal do with all of these things?", he asked himself. It took some days of Ouroboros stalking the reader until they noticed the presence of the tall men following them around, and when they did, they had already fallen for his trick( relationship: Very good. Ouroboros helps the reader with his experiments not only financially but also gives them a lot of knowledge that they couldn't learn in their class, which only helps Antonio to manipulate them and make them abandon the outside world and only focus on their research, also making it extremely easy for Antonio to keep them all to himself, he already has them on the palm of his hand anyways)

→Aesop Carl: Aesop also has an interest in the dead, even wanting to pursue the career of an embalmer when he finishes his studies. After the reader tells him about his experiments, unlike some of the other students that heard about his ideas, Aesop liked that idea, even though he preferred the dead over the alive, the idea of bringing someone who was once dead back to life seemed very interested, so interesting that he volunteers himself to help the reader on their little "project", to Antonio's dismay of course.

→Andrew Kreiss: Andrew is kind of the provider for reader's experiments, at first it was kind of weird how this stranger came almost every week to buy one of the graveward's bodies, but with time, the stranger became some kind of comfort on the lonely nights where Andrew guarded the graveward. Though he didn't like to admit it, he always got a little sad when the stranger's " assistant" was the one to come. (relationship: Neutral)

→Robbie White: He is not very important to the plot but you know that I had to put him here, my boy sells newspapers to people and he works with Victor, the reader really likes(PLATONICALY) him so he always buys a newspaper when he has a chance

.Extras

→Lucky Guy, Norton, Eli, Naib, Freddy, Xie Bi'an, Fan Wujiu, William, Eli, Edgar and Ganji are reader's classmates

→Jack is a local murderer, he knew reader by their frequent visits to the black market

→Burke, Bane, Joseph and Leo are teachers at the reader college/school

→Polun is a street performer, they knew readers because, when their(reader) lover was alive, they used to go to their performances

→Percy works as a Hitman(??), he was the one who killed the reader's lover they were involved with some...'   nasty' things, he meets redder because they have been contracted by Antonio to 'keep an eye on them' *cough* make sure they are working on the experiments and not slacking off *cough*

→Kurt works as a librarian on reader's college/school, they've each other by reader's constant visits to the school/college library

→Servais, Murro, Mik,e, and Smiley work at a circus in the center of the town where the reader lives, they know each other because the reader and their lover used to go there a lot

→ Jose and Kevin work at Demi's bar, they know the reader because of their frequent visits to the bar, especially after their lover's death

→Victor works to the town's mail, he meets the reader by Robbie, who managed to sell a lot of newspapers to them

→Luca was one of Ouroboros little specimens, before Ouroboros meets the reader, he used to "help" other people on their projects and then steal them, accusing the real creators of stealing from him and forcing him to pay for their things, which ends up on his victims going to jail, Luca meets the reader by trying to kill them out of rage, after knowing that Ouroboros is helping them, but gives up on the last second

→Emil is a patient in the asylum that the reader goes to get some of the bodies for his experiments, Emil doesn't know that the people that the reader takes out of there are dead, so he thinks that the reader is saving these people and taking them out of that hell

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𖦹➢This was rushed af and probably sucks bc I'm writing this for some time now and I have tucked or any calligraphy errors (Grammarly is doing it for me lol). Also sorry for putting a lot of characters as classmates or teachers, I didn't know what to make them and I am exhausted today, (once again, sorry for the bad writing, this one was the most rushed one that I made)

My fingers are hurting help

Babes/p this is absolutely amazing oh my god- I’m so sorry I didn’t get to this before- I was setting up something for my rabbits lmao

I love how this plays out though, it’s really good!!! Tysm for sending this

[contrabbandiera-di-elia]

Elippo Week 2020 Day 4 Canon compliant.

—

Salento was supposed to be a small trip. Only the five of them, at most six, if Gio would manage to convince Sofia to go. But somehow it became a journey with over fifteen people, including those who Elia knew not that well or not at all. Elia didn’t have much of the problem with that, although the perspective of a trip consisting mostly of couples (including his very recent crush and her new boyfriend) and strangers seemed like quite a challenge. Good thing that Elia liked challenges.

It turned out not to be so bad. After they planned out how to transport and accommodate so many people, the trip itself was great. A little bit crowded and chaotic, and too many kissing people around, but Elia really enjoyed himself. His friends turned out not to be a bunch of douchebags who would spend time only with their significant others, the girls were cool, although he subconsciously avoided being alone with Sana, Rami and his friends proved to be chill guys, Edoardo Incanti was trying his best to fit in, and he was doing a great job at it, and Filippo...

Filippo was the biggest surprise of all. Elia was surprised himself how quickly they clicked together. He had so many chances to talk to him before, but it was Sana’s Eid party that brought them closer. Maybe that was this whole renting thing, which was a sure thing for Filippo even trough Elia still didn’t give him a clear answer. Or maybe it had something to do with how similar they turned out to be. Elia couldn’t help but enjoy their little exchanges of sarcastic remarks and light jokes. Or maybe it had something to do with how somehow they were around each other more often than before. Whenever they were all meeting together, Filippo was somewhere close to him. And even if he wasn’t, Elia would somehow make his way towards Filippo. He wasn’t sure why himself. He simply decided it’s fun to be around Filippo and didn’t pay it any more attention.

With so many people around, it was loud and chaotic all the time. And even though Elia was generally a personification of these two words, sometimes even he needed a moment away from all this mess. Which is why one day he found himself on the beach, all alone. It was an early evening, quiet and peaceful. Everyone divided themselves into smaller groups or couples and tried to find their own quiet corner. Elia took this occasion to sneak away with his guitar and play a little. He could always use some additional training, Gio was constantly on his back telling him to play more because “he couldn’t carry the whole band on one guitar alone, for fuck’s sake.” He was surprisingly dedicated to this whole idea, even though Elia wasn’t sure how much longer they could last without a proper drummer and with their shitty songwriting.

“There you are! Luchino was looking for you everywhere!”

Elia looked up to see Filippo going towards him. He was waving at him as if he really thought Elia couldn’t notice him. It was impossible, not with Filippo’s splendid collection of colorful shirts. Right now, he was wearing a short-sleeve shirt, light pink with colorful flowers all over. Elia often thought about his own style as simple and toned down, but comparing to Filippo, everyone was simple and toned down.

“What does he want?”

“Marti and Gio were telling some story from the middle school, but it turned out they both remember it differently. Their argument got too heated, and Luchino hoped you’d provide some details to settle who’s right,” Filippo explained. Still, instead of waiting for Elia to get up, he sat down himself. Elia looked at him, amused. Typically for Filippo, he didn’t even ask if Elia want his companionship; he decided it himself.

“And what was it about? That story.” He asked, turning his eyes back to guitar’s strings as Filippo seemingly decided to stay instead of going back.

“Something about a school trip and how they both got terribly lost. Something like this. And they can’t decide whose fault it was.”

“Mine, actually,” Elia decided, smiling widely while remembering the story. “I mean, theoretically, Gio. But I kinda got them more lost.”

“You little piece of shit!”

“No, no. It’s their fault for being stupid. It was like… Gio accidentally joined the group from another school, he got distracted while he was picking a present for Eva. And Marti wouldn’t stop freaking out, obviously. So I kinda worked him up even more, so he went to look for him. Long story short, they got terribly lost, Peccio and I wouldn’t pick up our phones just to make it all more fun, the teachers finally figured out they were gone, they found him, Gio and Marti wouldn’t stop arguing whose fault it was that they got lost, because yes, Gio was the one to get lost at first, but Marti was the one who made them even more lost… And over the years, they magically forgot that I had something to do with it.”

Filippo was laughing, and it made Elia smile himself. That wasn’t their peak comedy story, but he was glad that it managed to make Filippo laugh. He liked this honest, spontaneous laughs of his. It made Elia think that he is, in fact, funny. Most people thought he’s just dumb, so it was a nice change.

“What a good friend you are, really.”

“I told you, it’s their fault. They could have been smarter.”

“It still makes you a little piece of shit.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Are you into sightseeing?”

Elia raised his head, looking from his guitar to Filippo. There was something in Filippo’s eyes that made him feel uneasy. Something he has often seen in the looks Filippo was giving him, but couldn’t clearly interpret. A glint, a sparkle, some deeper meaning. Elia wasn’t used to people looking at him like this.

“Eh... Yeah, sure. If there’s something cool to see, why not?”

“Ostuni is cool to see. Have you ever been there?” Elia shook his head, and somehow, it made Filippo smile. “Okay. Do you wanna go? It’s nearby, we can make it a one day trip, or maybe even half-day, it depends. I’ve heard it’s gorgeous, and it’d be a shame not to see it when we’re so close.”

“And who else is going? Or are we all going? Did I miss some planning, or did you guys made some plans when I was not around?”

There was a bit of silence that made Elia uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to sitting in silence with Filippo. It was the first time it happened, and it felt unnatural. Finally, Filippo sighed, which made Elia partly relieved and party stressed. He felt as if he said something wrong, but he had no idea what exactly.

“You’re quite clueless, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“There are no ‘others,’ Elia. I meant you and me only.” Having no answer, Filippo clarified after a short while. “I’m trying to ask you out.”

There was another moment of silence, but this time Elia wasn’t even thinking about whether it was uncomfortable or not. He simply didn’t know what to say. Filippo asking him out was the last thing he expected. Yes, he knew Filippo was gay. But it never crossed his mind that he could be possibly interested in him. Not that he was used to people being interested in him. Each of his serious crushes ended with his object of affection getting together with somebody else. It was pretty unusual for him to get somebody’s affection. And even more unusual to get it from a man. He never really thought about himself with another man. He didn’t have an occasion to.

“Look, it’s—”

“There you are!”

Elia turned his head so quickly that he was almost sure that something cracked in his neck. The rest of the boys were slowly approaching him, seemingly fed up with waiting for them. Typical for Gio, he liked resolving misunderstandings as soon as possible. The problem was, Elia wasn’t really ready to end the conversation.

Filippo, however, was.

“You don’t have to answer,” he said quietly. “This silence was quite telling. But that’s fine.”

He flashed him one last smile before getting up. Elia didn’t make a move, trying to analyze the situation twice as fast as he usually would. On the one hand, he definitely wasn’t gay. And he was never really interested in guys. So there was no reason for him to go on a date with Filippo.

On the other hand, there was no reason not to. He was never really interested in dating guys, but did it really mean that he couldn’t give it a try. And Filippo… Well, he had to at least hope Elia will say yes. So maybe he wouldn't mind being Elia’s first guy experience. Maybe he wanted to be. Otherwise, why would he even ask?

“Yes,” he spoke up. Filippo looked at him visibly confused. Theoretically, he could withdraw. He could change his mind. But he didn’t. Instead, he got up, looked Filippo straight into his eyes, and repeated. “Yes. Yes, I’ll go out with you. Hope you have a plan because I’m terrible at making them.”

He gave him one last smile and went to join the boys. He still wasn’t sure if that was the right decision. But did it have to be?

[azozzoni]

A continuation (that no one asked for) of Elia’s Birthday fic.

This got super long, so it’s here and on AO3. Rated E for explicit!

*

Elia was eighteen. He’d been eighteen for weeks, but it felt like nothing had changed. He wasn’t sure what was supposed to have happened now that he was officially an ‘adult’ but surely something?

At least something with Filippo.

“When is Eleonora coming back?” Elia asked, head tilted back for Filippo’s mouth leaving deep purple bruises up the line of his throat, bruises Elia would have to explain somehow to the boys. Luca was convinced Elia had a secret girlfriend he was keeping from them all, and it wasn’t that far from the truth.

Filippo made a soft noise, fingers sunk into Elia’s hair, thighs bracketing Elia’s on the couch. Shivering at the heat in his cock, Elia’s eyes closed at Filippo’s lips pausing at the corner of his mouth.

“Sometime tomorrow. I think they went to some cabin or something,” he said, as if he didn’t really care where his sister had gone. Elia didn’t care where Eleonora was except that she wasn’t there.

Elia didn’t reply, dragging Filippo’s mouth to his for a heated kiss he felt all the way in his toes, digging his fingers in the back of Filippo’s neck as his hips rolled up.

This was usually the part where Filippo slowed them down, where they didn’t quite make it to the bedroom, settling for a handjob instead, or where Eleonora burst in and Elia had to hide until she disappeared to her room and Filippo snuck him out.

Eleonora wasn’t home to burst in, though, not this time. She was off with her friends in a cabin somewhere, and for the first time in weeks, he and Filippo were truly alone.

It wasn’t as if Elia could invite Filippo out with the boys, not without being suspicious, and Eleonora was always around—she did live there, as Filippo had to remind Elia every time they were interrupted. They couldn’t exactly go to Elia’s house with one parent or another hanging around. Finding time alone was much harder than Elia had anticipated the first time he’d kissed Filippo up on the rooftop of some party all those months ago.

His whole body felt hot with Filippo on top of him, and he opened his eyes when Filippo pulled back to mouth along his jaw.

“Filo.” Elia sighed, a shaky exhale at Filippo’s hands landing on his hips, jeans tight against his erection. Fuck, he wanted so much more than a quick blow job on the couch right now, even if Filippo did give the best blow jobs he’d ever experienced. It was always an agonizing build-up, dizzying kisses and panted breaths between them, but Elia wanted more.

Filippo shifted, chest hard and warm against Elia’s, hips pressing down, and Elia bit his lip at the hard length of Filippo’s cock against his.

“Are we ever gonna fuck?” Elia muttered, half a breathy groan against the corner of Filippo’s jaw, and he didn’t mean to say it like that, the words spilled from his lips without thinking.

He didn’t mean to when Filippo paused, pulling back to look at Elia. Cheeks heating up, Elia tried to play it off with a shrug, sliding his hand around Filippo’s neck instead. He shouldn’t have said it like that, like it was all he was thinking about, but maybe it was.

It wasn’t the only thing Elia thought about—there was also school and his friends and his mom’s insistence that his room was a pig sty—but when it came to Filippo, it was top of the list.

It had been months, months of sneaking around and waiting, and Elia was eighteen now. He didn’t know what else they were waiting for.

Elia didn’t meet Filippo’s eyes, smoothing his hands down his shirt instead, pausing at the waistband of his jeans. He could feel Filippo watching him, probably realizing that Elia was just an idiot teenager who only thought about sex.

“Let me suck you off,” Elia said when Filippo remained silent, tugging at Filippo’s shirt, hoping he could make Filippo forget about his stupid question, that he was that desperate.

“Elia.” Filippo stopped him, fingers wrapping around his wrists and holding them steady. Swallowing, Elia sighed. This wasn’t how he’d planned for the evening to go, for him to ruin it with a stupid question. “We are going to fuck.”

Chin snapping up, Elia stared at Filippo, the tiny amused smile at his lips.

“Yeah?” he asked, skeptical, unsure if Filippo was just making fun of his stupid question.

Filippo nodded, pressing a kiss to Elia’s bottom lip, soft and gentle, and Elia blinked slowly. “I want you to be ready.”

“I’m ready,” Elia assured him, perhaps a bit too enthusiastic as Filippo laughed, tracing over his lip with his thumb.

Leaning into him, Filippo slid his arms around Elia’s neck as their hips met again in a slow roll upward, a rush of heat up Elia’s spine as his mouth dropped open.

“You’re not the only one who thinks about it,” Filippo murmured, nose squished against Elia’s, breath hot against Elia’s lips as they sat there, and Elia’s mouth tilted up to Filippo’s.

“Have you ever jerked off thinking about me?” Elia asked, a smirk curling his lips at the thought. He had never really considered that Filippo wanted this as much as he did.

“Sometimes,” Filippo admitted, fingers curling into Elia’s hair and yanking his head up, chin to Filippo’s mouth. Elia shivered at Filippo’s stubble rough against his cheek. This was really going to happen, he found himself thinking as Filippo’s mouth sought out his own for a slow, languid kiss, tongues slick and hot, and for a moment, Elia could have stayed like that, but no. He was ready for more.

“I’m ready,” Elia repeated, words muffled against Filippo’s lips, as though he needed Filippo to believe him.

“It’ll be nicer on a bed,” Filippo said a minute later when their lips were red and sore, all the blood in Elia’s body pooling in his cock.

“Fuck, yes,” Elia breathed, fisting Filippo’s shirt even as Filippo slid back, off Elia’s lap, off the couch, and he followed.

Filippo’s room looked different this time, different than before though Elia was sure nothing had changed. Nothing but the look Filippo gave him over his shoulder before he pulled off his shirt.

Elia could feel his heartbeat in his chest, climbing into his throat, nerves mixed with excitement as he yanked his shirt off, leaving it wrinkled on the floor. He’d seen Filippo naked before, but this time was different.

Filippo moved first, pulling Elia onto the bed with him, opening up for Elia to climb on top of him, the length of their bodies pressed together. Elia wasn’t sure he’d ever had this much skin to touch, this much of Filippo under his hands as he smoothed his palms up Filippo’s sides, dragging his lips up Filippo’s stomach, up the middle of his chest, kissing along the ridge of his collar bone, swallowing at Filippo’s hands on his shoulders, moving with him, cupping his jaw when Elia reached Filippo’s mouth.

The kiss felt different than the others, less rushed, as though time could magically slow down with Filippo. Elia was pretty sure it could. Both slow down and speed up depending on what they were doing.

Elia pulled away at Filippo groping for something on his bedside table, moving back to let Filippo pull a condom out of the drawer and flick it between his fingers, rolling his lip ring between his teeth. Despite himself, Elia felt a flutter of unease at the sight.

He’d been waiting for this. In theory, he wanted to do everything Filippo was willing to let him do, but there was something so concrete about doing it for the first time that hit him like a brick as he sat on top of Filippo.

“Don’t worry,” Filippo said at the way Elia paused, eyes on the condom. “The mechanics are similar to fucking a girl. I imagine.” He smiled slightly, pushing himself up, and Elia felt himself smile, almost a reflex.

He wanted to be cool, to be relaxed, suave, like he did this all the time, like he wasn’t worried he was going to be shit.

Falling into Filippo’s kiss, he focused on that, on Filippo’s lips, the easy glide of their mouths together—he could do this part. He was good at this part.

“I don’t know,” he muttered before he could stop himself, mouthing down Filippo’s jaw, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in his chest, almost not noticing the way Filippo paused.

“You don’t know?” Filippo asked after a second, nudging Elia away from his neck. “Elia, you’ve been with a girl, right?”

Shit. He’d been with girls—made out, fingered them, gotten blow jobs. He’d just never managed to go all the way somehow. With Filippo’s eyes on him, he sighed, wishing they didn’t have to talk about it. About his lack of experience, about the fact that he was eighteen and still hadn’t properly fucked anyone.

He didn’t answer Filippo, looking away, hands falling to Filippo’s shoulders. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“It’s okay,” Filippo said finally, reaching for Elia’s chin, turning it back to face him.

“It’s embarrassing,” Elia muttered, gazing at Filippo’s chest, the tiny scar on his side. “All my friends have. Even Luchino is on his way to fucking Silvia.”

He saw Filippo shake his head from the corner of his eye, felt Filippo’s fingers brushing through his hair.

“You should have said something.”

Rolling his eyes, Elia sat back on his knees. “Why? So you could feel bad for me?”

“No,” Filippo said simply, leaning into Elia. “So I wouldn’t freak you out by going too fast.”

“You’re not going too fast,” Elia assured him, raising his gaze finally, expecting to see pity in Filippo’s gaze, but instead, he found Filippo smiling at him. “I want to do this.”

“I know you do,” Filippo said, his smile growing, eyes flicking to Elia’s cock, unflagging despite the conversation’s turn.

“Asshole,” Elia said, shoving Filippo’s chest, and Filippo grinned, the moment passing, the nerves dissipating as Filippo moved, used his legs to flip Elia onto his back.

“It’ll be easier this way,” he said with a nod of his chin, pressing Elia into the mattress, leaning in for a sweeping kiss that Elia arched into. He wasn’t going to think that this was his first time, that there was a big possibility he was going to suck at this.

The crinkle of the condom wrapper distracted Elia from Filippo’s kisses, breaking away to watch Filippo reach for his cock, warm fingers wrapping around Elia as he stroked him slowly. They hadn’t really talked about this, about who would do what, though Elia had thought about it. He’d thought about fucking Filo, pushing deep inside his body and how it would feel. He’d also thought about what it would be like with Filippo inside him, how much it might hurt, how good it would feel.

“You’re going to fuck me,” Filippo said, as easily as if he was talking about what he wanted for breakfast. Biting his lip, Elia let out a breath as Filippo rolled the condom onto his prick, fingers edging down the sides. “Because I want to feel you inside me, Eli.”

Elia nodded, a bit too eagerly, reaching for Filippo’s thighs as Filippo scooted over him, grabbing the lube off the table.

“Lube is your friend,” Filippo said seriously, taking Elia’s hand and squeezing some into his palm.

Elia wasn’t a complete idiot. He had the internet—he knew about things like lube and preparation. He’d just never done it with anyone else.

It was completely different with Filippo on top of him, as though his brain couldn’t form cohesive thoughts anymore as Filippo pulled his wrist down, lifting onto his knees.

“I feel like I’m in school,” Elia said, eyes on where Filippo guided his fingers.

“You won’t in a second,” Filippo said, closing his eyes as Elia pressed the first finger inside.

Filippo’s body was hot, muscles tight against his fingers, and Elia had no idea how his cock was supposed to fit in there, but he did what Filippo told him to do, let Filippo take the lead and show him how he liked it. It was almost mesmerizing, watching Filippo fuck himself on Elia’s fingers, feeling the shift in the air as Elia’s cock twitched, eager, excited, any trace of previous nerves gone.

Filippo wanted this, and Elia wanted this. He wanted his dick inside Filippo, to feel so close to the guy who he’d spent the past few months getting to know, laughing over stupid movies, talking about their families, their absent fathers, the fact that Filippo wanted to be a photographer and now had way too many photos of Elia on his phone.

Any of the girls he’d been with before, he’d only wanted to have sex to have sex, because he was a horny teenager. He’d never been with one he would have waited for.

Waiting for Filippo had been completely worth it, he decided when Filippo eased his fingers out and shifted over him.

“Get your cock ready,” Filippo breathed, pressing his lips to Elia’s cheek, and Elia fumbled for his dick, slicking it up with lube, ready to burst in his hand as Filippo’s mouth ghosted over his jaw, up to his lips. “Good?”

Elia nodded, mouth falling open, chasing Filippo for a kiss as Filippo sat back up and took hold of his cock, guiding him inside.

Elia’s eyes rolled back at the heat pressing around his dick, the squeeze of Filippo’s muscles that shot straight through him.

“Fuck,” he breathed, swallowing hard, forcing his eyes open. It was so much better than he’d imagined. Different but better.

Filippo looked like a god above him, his skin smooth and pale, dark hair curling on his chest, a flush rising on his neck as he moved, fucked himself on Elia. Until this moment, Elia wasn’t sure he’d really appreciated how beautiful Filippo was—he knew Filippo was hot. He’d known that the minute Martino had introduced them, but he hadn’t really considered everything altogether.

“Jesus,” Elia murmured, rolling his hips up, inside Filippo, Filippo’s groan reverberating through his chest. He was actually doing this, making Filippo feel good, making Filippo’s cock hard, bouncing against his stomach.

Elia wanted to do more, more than lie beneath Filippo, caught up in watching Filippo fuck himself, in the sheen of sweat along Filippo’s collar bone, in the way Filippo bit down on his lip ring as he moved.

“You’re going to figure it out,” Filippo breathed when Elia moved, rolling them over, Filippo on his back this time, still connected as he pressed his hips in against Filippo.

“What?” Elia asked, distracted by the heat in his cock, the way Filippo’s legs wrapped around his back, fingers buried in his hair.

“How you like it,” Filippo replied, untangling his hands from Elia’s hair and sliding to his ass, pulling him in tight.

“Oh, fuck,” Elia heard himself say, hips jerking, stomach clenching as Filippo held him there.

He wasn’t going to last—he wasn’t sure how he’d lasted this long with the heat of Filippo’s body around his cock, Filippo holding onto him as Elia thrust inside, breaths coming in pants between curses and moans.

Filippo’s lips were soft when Elia leaned into him, less a kiss and more of mouths ghosting together as Elia pushed in. He could feel the heat of Filippo’s skin against his, Filo’s cock between their bodies, hard and wet at the tip.

“I’m gonna come,” Elia muttered against Filippo’s throat, toes curling at the tension building in his stomach, surprised when Filippo gripped the back of his neck and nodded, wet lips against his cheek.

“Then come,” he said, breathed in Elia’s ear, pulling on the lobe with his teeth.

Swallowing, Elia didn’t try to hold back, didn’t care if it was too soon, if he was supposed to hold out longer, to make it better for Filippo. He couldn’t stop the wave from crashing over him, the thrill in his stomach as he came, pushing his prick deep inside Filippo.

Worth the wait, he thought as he panted for breath, barely holding himself up over Filippo, giving in when Filippo’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and tugged.

His skin was sticky with sweat as he collapsed on Filippo’s chest, listening to Filippo’s heartbeat as he tried to slow his breathing. Closing his eyes, he felt Filippo’s fingers carding through his damp hair, sighing as he lay there.

Elia never wanted to get up, content to lie there with Filippo’s fingers tracing circles on the back of his shoulders.

Shifting, Elia could still feel Filippo’s cock against his stomach, hard. He wasn’t going to be one of those assholes who left their partners hanging.

“Elia,” Filippo groaned as Elia moved, getting his hand between them and stroking down the length.

Elia wanted Filippo to feel as good as he did right now, relaxed and content, limbs heavy and warm. Moving up, he pressed his lips to Filippo’s neck, sucking a mark at the juncture between his shoulder. His hand moved quickly, jerking Filippo off, and he knew Filippo was thinking of him this time as Filippo sighed, eyes closed, relaxing into Elia.

Elia knew how Filippo liked it, the twist of his wrist, the way he slowed down at the end, adjusting his grip when Filippo cursed under his breath.

“Fuck,” Filippo said a second before he came, hot and wet on Elia’s hand, his stomach.

Things were even stickier now as Elia slid back against Filippo, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the mess between them, not when Filippo wrapped his arms around him, nosing in against his cheek.

“Next time, we’ll try something else,” he murmured against Elia’s temple, and Elia smiled.

“I want to try everything,” he said, glancing up at Filippo. He meant it too when Filippo met his gaze, thumb grazing over his bottom lip, a smile on his face.

“I know you do,” Filippo only said, and Elia rolled his eyes, leaning in for a kiss instead.

Definitely worth the wait.

[lingenthusiast]

Should we wake him?

Sabato - 18 Maggio 2019 - ore 19:56

Nico’s parents were out of town, so he and Marti decided to invite their friends to chill at Nico’s house on Saturday and Sunday, drinking alcohol, playing cards or Fifa or whatever came to their minds, other than that.

Until now, they had been talking a lot, then they had decided to play fifa but now, Nico and Gio were quietly jamming on the piano and the guitar, Elia and Filippo were cooking in the kitchen, and Luca was watching random videos on his phone, quiet for once.

Marti was partly sitting, partly lying on one corner of the couch, curled up in a redheaded human ball. He had been watching Nico and Gio play for a while, but now he was fast asleep.

Eventually, Filippo came into the living room to tell them that dinner was ready. When he noticed Marti being asleep, he laughed. — I’m not even joking, this kid is the most boring person ever.

Nico’s head snapped around to look at his boyfriend. When he saw that Marti was indeed sleeping, he smiled fondly.

— Should we wake him? — Luca asked sneakily, his hand already reaching out to slap Marti on the neck.

— No! — Gio whisper shouted, a murderous expression on his face.

— Let him sleep — Nico said. — He didn’t get much sleep over the past couple of days.

Filippo looked at him, concerned, while Luca jokingly asked — Why? Are you keeping him awake with all the mind-blowing sex the two of you have?

Gio groaned out loud, barely resisting to throw something at poor little Luchino. Nico just laughed. — That as well — He said, wiggling his eyebrows before his expression changed to serious once again. — Nah, it’s actually because he can’t sleep. He’s worrying a lot.

Luca’s eyes widened. — Is everything okay with the two of you?

This time, Nico smiled fondly. — We are okay, yeah — He swallowed. — It’s his mum.

Luca’s eyes narrowed in confusion. — I thought she was doing better — he said.

— Sometimes it’s good, but then it’s bad again. That’s just how it is at the moment. At least she’s working on it.

Gio studied Nico’s face for a bit, then looked over to where Marti was sleeping and then back at Nico again, as if to assess whether he could trust Nico with this.

— But the two of you are dealing with it alright, aren’t you? — The question was very straight-forward but his voice was kind.

Nico met his gaze. — Yeah — he said with a serious nod — He is doing what he can, as always. And so am I.

The boys had long eaten and started a movie marathon before Marti slowly began to stir awake.

Nico carefully stroke a few loose hair strands out of his face. He leant over Marti to fully be able to see his face. — Hey love — he whispered, smiling lovingly.

Marti just blinked, still completely out of it but the corners of his mouth lifted as well only because he saw Nico smiling.

— Have you had a good nap? — Nico asked and kissed Marti’s lips as softly as humanly possible.

[faresramettas]

god only knows

martino/niccolò, 953 words, g rated 

summary:

if you should ever leave me / though life would still go on, believe me / the world could show nothing to me / so what good would living do me?

nico plays ukulele for marti. marti feels fireworks in his chest.

i haven’t written in almost 5 years but i was inspired by this ukulele cover and marti and nico are just that powerful. this is nothing but shameless fluff and an attempt at filling the void left by the lack of nye updates. some bits of dialogue are in italian but i left translations in the notes. enjoy!

read below or on ao3!

***

Something Martino discovered recently is that Niccolò’s ukulele is more than just an excellent hiding spot for weed. It serves a higher, greater purpose tugging at his heartstrings.

The first time Niccolò had played it, they were lying in the same exact spot in Nico’s bed. It was the first morning they had ever spent together after a night that, months later, still felt unreal, like the product of someone's imagination. Lying on his back in Nico’s borrowed t-shirt and shorts, he had listened and laughed as Nico played a clash of chords and sang made-up lyrics about kisses in the pool. He had grabbed Nico’s ukulele, not much to annoy him as much as to save himself from the love that had threatened to choke him.

“Fuck you," Nico had said, playful, and Marti had turned his head and kissed him, upside down, like in a movie.

Niccolò had a beautiful voice. Marti learned it in Bracciano too, one endless month later, when Niccolò looked him in the eyes and sang amore mio, comunque vada, making Marti’s heart skip a beat that he hasn't recovered yet. When Nico cupped his face with both hands, gentle, like he was holding his whole world his hands and Marti sang too, even if he was bad at it, even if he could hear a chant of "sottone" going off in the back of his head.

Chi ha detto che tutto quello che cerchiamo non è sul palmo di una mano?

In the freezing bedroom of that old lake house, Marti had never felt warmer.

Sometimes, when Marti closes his eyes, he runs a retrospective on the last three months of his life and it steals his breath. This uncontainable happiness. The unshakable, undisputable knowledge he wouldn’t want this any other way.

Two nights ago, at the stroke of midnight, he turned to the boy whose eyes held universes, kissed his tipsy smile with his own and whispered buon anno on his lips.

“Buon anno, amore,” Niccolò whispered back, resting his forehead on Martino’s, one hand caressing his cheek, the other balancing a flute of spumante by his hip. Martino kissed the palm of Nico’s hand, the same way Nico had done on the school terrace, and they both smiled.

The fireworks in the sky would blush could they see the ones going off in Marti’s chest.

The moment was short-lived as a shitfaced Luchino, Elia and Gio enveloped them in a group hug, yelling "pomicioni" and starting a drunken conga line to the tune of trashy old songs playing on TV.

“Brigitte Bardot, Bardot, Brigitte beijou, beijou!" Luchino and Gio sang in unison, carrying on the conga line by themselves.

“You know, Marti, chi scopa a capodanno...” Elia teased, slapping him on the shoulder.

“Then sorry, bro, but I think Luchino is your only hope,” Niccolò chimed in before Marti could, earning an impressed cheer from both him and Gio.

“I'm up for it," said Luchino, blowing a kiss to Elia.

They had spent New Year's Eve pregaming at Nico's house, just the five of them. Gio, Elia and Luchino left after midnight to go to a party Peccio had invited them to, but Marti and Nico stayed in, and two days later Martino was still here, Nico’s parents in Umbria, Marti’s mom at her sister’s house in Cecina. Marti at home in Nico’s bed.

“You know this one?” Nico asked, playing the incipit of a song on the ukulele. Marti looked up at him and shook his head.

“No way. The Beach Boys, Marti.”

“Ni, you know I don't know half the music you listen to.”

“Even rocks know The Beach Boys," Nico said, teasing, shaking his head in that bouncy way of his and leaning down for a peck. He sat up, leaning back against the headboard, and resumed playing.

“What's it called?” Marti asked, moving to lay his head on Nico’s thigh.

“God Only Knows," Nico whispered. He cleared his throat and started singing.

Niccolò knew so much. He knew how to play and sing. He knew countless genres of music. He knew art and history. He knew languages. Marti was simultaneously in awe and scared not to be enough. But this time, Marti didn’t need to understand the words to know that Nico was singing a love song. That he was singing it for him. He could see it in Nico’s eyes. He could hear it in the warmth of his voice. He was singing quietly, almost pensively, as if the words were revealing an ancient truth to him.

Marti was hypnotized. Nico smiled mid-song and leaned down to kiss him again. One hand left the ukulele strings to sink in the hair at Marti's nape and lift his head, and Marti smiled and kissed back, his hand finding its natural spot on Niccolò’s neck on autopilot.

It was contagious, smiling when Nico did, smiling into kisses, and Marti smiled so much his face hurt sometimes. On Nico's good days, he was always singing or humming or playing imaginary piano keys and that was contagious too.

They kissed and kissed, a gentle thing, unhurried, then deeper, Nico tracing Marti’s upper lip with his tongue, Marti trailing down to lightly brush his lips on his chin, the corner of Nico’s lips, then up, kissing the freckles on his nose.

“Finish playing. I like it," he whispered, smiling up at Nico, who was staring at him with the same fondness that Marti knew he was reflecting in his own eyes. He snapped him out of it and Nico grinned, nodded and picked up the ukulele.

Marti settled back on Nico’s thigh and closed his eyes.

Dio solo sa cosa sarei senza di te.

notes

“buon anno, amore” = happy new year, my love

“chi scopa a capodanno (scopa tutto l’anno)” = “get laid on new year’s eve and you’ll get laid for the whole year”

the last sentence is a translation of the lyrics “god only knows what i’d be without you”

[probablydaydreamingg]

Nicotino AU fic - The Sun in His Eyes

Here it is ! The first chapter of my Nicotino AU fic. Please let me know what you guys think as it is my first fic and I have no idea if it’s any good. It involves the contrabbandieri a lot, so if you miss them as much as I do… You know what to do ;)

You can read it on AO3 here.

Summary: I contrabbandieri goes camping for a few days once they’re done with school. All Martino wanted was to relax and be a careless teenager for a few days. He had no idea that he would fall in love in the process. On their first day of lounging on the beach they meet a group of boys and play beach volley with them. They hit it off immediately and spend the rest of their vacation together. The problem is that one of them is the most beautiful boy in the planet and Martino can’t help but falling for his green eyes and his sunshine smile.

Chapter 1

It’s fair to say that it hadn’t be easy for Martino to convince his mom to let him go on vacation with the boys, but she finally caved in, after several conversations and one long speech from Gio exposing the different benefits of a friends’ gateway to the beach for a few days. It’s not that Martino’s mom didn’t trust Martino or the boys to be on their own, it’s mostly that she didn’t like the idea of being alone in the house for days. Martino knew that, which is why he managed to convince her to take this opportunity to visit her sister for a few days, this way it would be a nice getaway for them both. And of course, Martino would call her everyday to tell her all about their trip.

It was a month ago when Gio had proposed to go camping once they’re out of school, just the four of them together, Elia, Luchino and Marti. Gio had broken up with Sofia not so long before, which might be what prompted the idea of the getaway. Turned out all four boys could use some time to breathe the clean coastal air, to just chill under the sun for a few days. Their fourth year of high school had been exhausting for all of them, and one thing that’s for sure is that their fifth and final year won’t be any easier. They might as well enjoy themselves while they can. Martino was particularly grateful for this opportunity to be a careless teenager for a few days, to be completely rid of any responsibilities. As much as he loves his mom, with her ups and downs, he does have to put on his adult’s shoes more so than the average teenager which tend to be tiresome. Martino and his mom managed to find a balance, they’ve learned how to live without his dad by now and their relationship is now stronger than ever before, but even then Martino sometimes feels like there is a huge weight on his shoulders.

The boys decided on Fregene for their trip as it’s a short train ride away from Rome, is known to attract many young Italians due to its many bars and clubs, and on top of it is a relatively cheap destination for poor high schoolers like them. And as Luchino said: “I’m sure it’s full of pretty girls. We’ll have the time of our lives guys”. Even though Martino couldn’t care less if there were pretty girls there or not, he sure was looking forward to those few days at the beach with his friends.

The thing is that Martino had come to terms with the fact that’s he’s attracted to boys, and boys only, a few months ago. He just couldn’t lie to himself anymore, not when it took everything for him to try and pretend that he was even remotely attracted to Emma. No really, he just decided there was no point in putting up this façade for himself anymore. That’s the conclusion he came to after taking a quiz to assess his gayness (the results were complete bullshit by the way) – turns out if you take a quiz to know if you’re gay, there is a 99.9% chance that you’re gay, or bi, or pan, or anything else that isn’t straight. Just deal with it. Martino dealt with it, in fact he felt pretty good about it, even better now that his feelings for Gio seem to be a memory of the past. He hasn’t told any of the boys yet though, he hasn’t told anyone for that matter. He was too afraid of what their reaction might be, and he values their friendship way too much to risk losing them. Gio, Luchino and Elia are his moral support and he didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t get to spend most of his useless afternoons with them.

This is the exact thought that crossed Martino’s mind while he looked at his three best friends on the train to Fregene. Gio was telling a story excitedly with his hands, while Luchino was laughing loudly at all of his jokes and asking dumb questions from time to time which meant Gio had to tell the story from the beginning again since apparently Luchino didn��t understand any of it. Elia was looking at them both and shaking his head at their antics. Martino was thinking about how grateful he was that these three were in this life. Gio noticed that Martino was staring at them without saying anything, he looked back at him with a question in his eyes, probably wondering what’s in Marti’s mind like the mom friend he is. Martino tries to convey through his eyes that he’s fine, he’s just glad to be going on this trip with them and taking his mind off things. Gio seems to be satisfied with what he sees in Martino’s eyes and continues babbling about some adventure he’s had. After an hour and a half spent talking, listening to music, playing games, they arrive to their destination. It was near midday when they checked into the campsite and set up their tent. The campsite seems pretty chill, it has a pool, a snack bar and basically everything you would expect from the place. They decide not to lose any time and go straight to the beach once they’re done. The four boys wear really big smiles in addition to their light shirts, swimming trunks, flip flops and sunglasses. Once they step foot on the sand Martino takes a deep breath, the smell of iodine and sun cream invading his nostrils. They all look around them, at the people lying around sunbathing, at the people playing beach games, at the sun rays hitting the sea creating millions of crystalline reflections. They then look at each other and smile their widest smiles, summer vacation is officially on.

“Alright let’s find a spot to lay down and show off our athletic bodies guys!” taunts Elia.

“You mean show off our belly rolls” laughs back Gio. “Mr. Boccia was right, we should have been more dedicated in PE. Woah, I didn’t think I would ever say this, but I almost miss the guy”

“Me too honestly bro. We should have brought him and his husband with us, they could help us get into shape.” Says Marti.

“Wait why are we talking about Boccia right now?” Interrupts Luchino. “let’s go find that spot, we’re not allowed to talk about anything related to school, that’s the rule!”.

“There aren’t any rules Luchi, we’re just joking” retorts Gio. “Actually, the only rule is that there aren’t any rules”.

“That’s fine by me. Let’s go” concludes Elia. They all start walking, they take off their flip flops and then realize this was a bad idea as the sand is painfully hot. They put them back on as fast as they can when their feet can’t take the scorching heat anymore and head off again.

They end up spreading their beach towels near a cabin that sells drinks and snacks, just in front of a court where you can play beach volley. It’s the perfect spot for their starving stomachs, and also for people watching (because who doesn’t people watch when they go to the beach – people who are blind that’s who). Luchino doesn’t waste one second before rushing to the cabin to get food into his craving belly. The three boys follow suit not long after. They’re all eating their snacks, shirts off, fan-shaped feet, when a group of boys get into the beach volley court. They are a group of four guys who seem to be around the same age as them. One of them is dark-skinned and super athletic, looking like the type of guy that goes to the gym several times a week and likes to preach the virtues of maintaining a healthy body. The one next to him is much less built, with what looks like a bad sunburn on his upper back, he has brown hair and wears glasses which give him a bit of a nerdy look. The third one seems super chill while looking quite confident, his posture tells you that you’d have to try really hard for him to get riled up. But the one that caught Marti’s attention the most is the fourth one, a dark-haired boy with a blinding smile. Seriously he’s never seen a smile so wide and bright in his life. And…oh well the boy also happens to be ripped so there’s that. But Martino can’t help but staring at his face, his smile, his green eyes, his curls that fall over his eyes. Martino suddenly realizes that he’s been staring for far too long and tries to snap out of it. He looks over at the boys next to him, who are also looking at the group of boys in front of them. Martino dares to glance one more time at wide smile boy, which confirms to him he is just as beautiful and breathtaking as he first thought. Martino knows he shouldn’t let himself get too invested into a stranger who is most likely straight, but at this moment all his mind is telling him is that there’s nothing wrong with a little bit of harmless staring from afar. Suddenly a voice breaks his reverie:

“It would be cool to play some beach volley while we’re here, what do you think guys? Get our bodies moving a little bit?” asks Elia.

“Yeah maybe” replies Gio, looking a little bothered.

“All I can think of is how I wished those were girls playing in front of us” interjects Luchino.

Martino realizes that female volleyball players have to be the last thing Gio wants to think about right now. “Hey Luchino stop being a perv will you, we could play after they’re done”.

Gio looks at him, seeming invigorated again. “Sounds like a good idea Marti, I’m proud of you for actually agreeing to get up and move your body to play real life sports. You like to brag about how you’re winning me in FIFA, but you won’t be bragging for long when it comes to this.”

Elia and Luchino snickers, Martino rolls his eyes, and then Elia says: “but wait why don’t we ask the boys to play with them, they’re only four, we could play four to four, that’s much better”.

Luchino doesn’t seem convinced: “did you look at them though? Two of them look like they could be fitness coaches, like it shouldn’t be legal to be this ripped, we would get crashed in seconds”.

“Well yeah with you in our team that’s for sure” replies Gio “but come on it’ll be fun, and muscles don’t mean anything when it comes to volley, maybe they suck at it as bad as us”. Right as Gio finished his sentence, a ball rolls to Martino’s feet. Looks like the boys had started playing while they were chatting. The dark-skinned boy picks up the ball and looks over at them, they probably looked like idiots caught in flashlights.

“Ciao” greets the guy “sorry for the ball”.

Gio is the first one to recover: “Hey no problem, actually we were talking of joining you guys for a match, what do you think?” With all of this Martino had almost forgotten of wide smile boy, almost being the key word. He’s conflicted between wanting to be as far from him as possible so as not to embarrass himself and wanting to get to know the person behind the warm smile. Truthfully, he didn’t think showing off his non-existent real life sports skills would play in his favor as a first introduction, but it was too late to back off now.

Dark skinned boy now has a name, it’s Amir, he seems to be a really nice guy, he introduces them to the other three boys: Aurelio (the laid-back one), Stefano (the one with glasses) and… Niccolò. Niccolò is the name of the most beautiful boy Martino has laid his eyes on. Martino greets him as calmly as he can, trying not to show how affected he is by the boy. The thing is that Martino was caught off guard by the way Niccolò looked back at him, his smile seemed even wider, even brighter, and there was something in his eyes that Martino couldn’t decipher. Martino tried to reign his expressions in, however he’s pretty sure he didn’t manage to prevent the blush from creeping up on his face. Martino averts his eyes and tries to focus on the situation at hand. Beach volley. The ball. The net. The contrabbandieri next to him. Four seemingly friendly boys on the other side of the net. Martino reminds himself not to make a big deal out of this situation, it’s just a game and nothing is at stake. Just let it go, this is what this vacation is about remember?

“So, we’ll just pass the ball around at first, we’ll start counting the points once we’re warmed up, what do you say?” asks Amir.

“Well as you probably figured out we do need a bit of a warm up, so let’s do that” replies Gio sarcastically.

“We may look inexperienced but that’s just a trick. We’re actually going to smash you guys” added Elia. The four boys in front of them laughed at that.

“Well we’ll see about that” said Niccolò, and as he said that he turned his head to look at Martino. Martino wished he could be anywhere but here in this moment, he’s beginning to think that agreeing to play with them was the worst idea of the century.

They started playing and admittedly they weren’t as bad as he’d thought. Amir and Aurelio were respectively strong and fast, but overall both teams were relatively even. Martino was finally able to loosen up a little, cracking jokes with the boys in between passes. He sometimes felt like there were eyes on him, but he didn’t know if it was his mind playing tricks or if it was indeed the case. Niccolò was jumping around excitedly, his smile never seeming to falter even when he missed the ball. The fact that he is a bit shorter than the other tree boys of his team was the most endearing thing. They ended up face to face at some point, looking at each other from across the net, and again his body is reacting in a way that he can’t control. Gio throws the ball to the other side, and Niccolò jumps to get it, setting his body in motion. Martino makes a mental note to thank Gio for this moment, because he is in first row to witness the way Niccolò’s muscles contract and expand. He gets a full view of his torso, his arms, his baby blue shorts that hang low on his stomach and give way to his sharp hip bones, his legs, his face of concentration, and… The ball that comes crashing down Martino’s face. Well he was way too engrossed into everything that is Niccolò to see this one coming.

“Hey Marti, are you sleeping or what??” mocks Gio “you know you have to catch the ball with your hands, not your head”.

“Ahaha thank you for the reminder Gio”.

“Marti you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” for the first time since Martino laid his eyes on him, Niccolò wears an expression of worry on his face, his usual excited demeanor gone. And wait… did he just call him “Marti”??

Martino reassures him right away, “No don’t worry, I’m fine”. They change positions and Martino tries not to die from embarrassment.

The two boy squads chatted in between passes, hitting it off almost immediately. Naturally it wasn’t long before they realized they all come from Rome. Aurelio, Stefano and Amir go to university there, while Niccolò just graduated from high school and will start his first year of uni in September. It’s clear that Niccolò doesn’t want to get into the details of why he’s one year behind the boys even though they are the same age. They chat about everything and anything, mostly about the differences between high school and university, as well as their reason for being here. The boys arrived the day before to spend a few days on the beach as Aurelio happens to have a cousin that lives in Fregene where they are staying. In just the little time that they’ve known the four boys, they’ve come to realize how strong their friendship is, the bond that unites them akin to the one of the contrabbandieri. It is quite obvious in the way that they share looks, sometimes holding silent conversations, in the way that they tease each other constantly lovingly. Even though the four boys have very distinct personalities from that of Martino, Gio, Elia and Luca, their similar dynamics is what made them click instantly, what made them feel comfortable around each other.

After over an hour of playing beach volley, Stefano shouted: “the last one in the water is the real loser”, prompting all eight boys to rush to the sea. None of the boys wanted to make the race easy for anyone, barring the way, kicking, pushing, it was a mess of legs, arms and laughter. Just as Martino was reaching the water, he felt arms enveloping him from behind preventing him from going any further. The arms that were around him felt both strong and soft on his skin, almost like their first intent were to hold rather than constrict. Not forgetting of the race, Martino managed to wiggle himself out of the grip to keep on running, almost immediately missing the sensation of the arms surrounding him. Once he was in the water, he turned around to see that the arms that enveloped him belonged to Niccolò. He was smiling his signature sunshine smile, only it was so big now it was threatening to break his face. Which would be an absolute shame considering its statuesque beauty. And he was laughing, a low and sweet sound. Martino wanted to slap himself for being so infatuated with every little thing Niccolò does.

“What exactly did you want to do Niccolò?” asked Martino with what was left of his bravery, he hoped his smile wasn’t too big, “just accept that you lost”.

“Well it was worth trying, and by the way I didn’t lose! Luca was the last one!” replied Niccolò in a smug way.

“I’m sorry but if you arrive second to last, the last being Luchino, that means you lost. It’s just a fact” teases Martino.

“Oh, okay I see how it is. I didn’t see you as the merciless type Martino. It’s not like you won either” Niccolò teases back, with the cutest headshake.

“No, it’s true but…” And it’s right at that moment that Gio decided to come up behind him without making a sound and drown him. When Martino came back to the surface he wanted nothing but to murder Gio, he went after him to try and drown him as a reprisal, but he was stronger than him and managed to drown him a second time. Martino came back up again, his hair all over the place, struggling to come up for air after he swallowed sea water. Martino finally dared to glance at Niccolò who looked like he was having the time of his life. Gio looked between Martino and Niccolò with a questioning look, probably wondering if he interrupted something.

“Hey Nico, don’t let those Bambi eyes of his fool you ok? He’s far from being innocent himself, trust me” says Gio. Martino wishes he would just shut his mouth and stop embarrassing him even further. Martino was managing this well enough on this own anyway.

“Bambi eyes?” Asked Niccolò, his eyes looking intensely at Martino’s, “ah yes Bambi really suits you actually” he added, looking pleased with himself.

Martino felt his cheeks turning red, but still managed to get out a “don’t listen to what Gio says, I’m definitely not a Bambi”.

“I beg to differ” responded Niccolò, looking smug yet again.

Gio was silently laughing next to Marti and then said to Nico “I feel like we’re going to get along just well you and me”.

Martino couldn’t take it anymore, “I’m going to drown the both of you if you don’t stop talking bullshit”.

“I’d like to see you try” challenged Niccolò. And try he did. He doesn’t know what force spurred him towards Nico and made him brave enough to try and drown him. He was touching his skin. His naked wet skin. It was a mess of limbs, legs, arms intertwined, that Martino couldn’t register which part of Nico he was touching. But he was touching him. Holy shit. At some point Martino’s face ended up really close to Niccolò’s, and for a slip second their eyes met, it was such a short moment and yet so intense. Nico finally gave out under his weight and was swallowed by the water. When he comes back up his hair messily covers his eyes and he’s giggling like he couldn’t be bothered. He then pushed his hair back to reveal his eyes again. Martino is mesmerized by their color, it’s a peculiar shade of green, almost like they have yet to decide if they are hazel or a mix of green and blue. Martino shouldn’t be so entranced only by a pair of eyes, but he couldn’t help himself. Next to them the rest of the boys, whom Gio had gone back to, were being loud and messy, splashing water in all directions, shouting and laughing like they had no care in the world. Martino could hear them, but it was faint, like he was hearing them from inside a secluded place. Niccolò was looking straight into his eyes and Martino wasn’t sure he knew how to speak anymore. Thankfully Niccolò was the first one to break the silence.

“For the record I could have drown you so easily, I just decided to let you do it. I didn’t want to offend Bambi” he said mockingly, his smile never faltering, even for a second.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t be so sure about that. You’re so tiny, you wouldn’t be able to drown me” Oh, he hadn’t lost his capacity to speak, that’s great. But did he just say that Niccolò is tiny?? He’s regretting ever opening his mouth. Technically Niccolò isn’t tiny, he’s built and has defined muscles. While Martino is toned but not as built and muscly, he is however taller and broader than Niccolò who has narrow shoulders and hips. Physicality aside his whole demeanor oozes tiny, there’s no denying that. Martino didn’t mean to say it out loud though, he’d rather keep this for himself. But it’s too late now and Niccolò is looking at him indignantly.

“I’m sorry what? Tiny? Me? I’ll let you know I’m the master of drowning. I just didn’t want to outshine you” he responded.

“Is that so? ‘Cause it sounds a lot like something a tiny person would say” and there he said it again, why can’t he shut his mouth?

And at this moment the bubble they were in was burst by the boys coming into their vision. Aurelio and Amir started messing with Niccolò, ruffling his hair and then trying to drown him. Niccolò tried to resist but the “master” of drowning couldn’t do much against these two. Once they were done with him, Niccolò went after Amir to retaliate. He did manage to drown him after some dazzling efforts.

Martino was now surrounded by Gio, Elia and Luca who were observing the commotion. The momentum Niccolò and Martino shared was definitely lost. That’s when Luchi’s stomach decided to intervene: “hey guys I’m starving, don’t you want to get something to eat?”. They all ended up going back to their towels. Martino glanced at Niccolò who was a few steps away, engrossed in a conversation with Amir. He was looking like a Roman God gracefully making his way out of the water, with droplets on his torso and his shorts plastered on his legs. It was all too much that Martino couldn’t stare at him for too long. The group of boys settled their beach towels next to the contrabbandieri’s. There was some sort of silent agreement that the two boy squads had adopted each other and didn’t want to go their separate ways. Martino is laying down on his towel, face up, when his eyes catch those of Niccolò’s who was still standing. They stare at each other for a few seconds longer than socially acceptable. Martino recalls their moment in the water and starts wondering if there might be more to it than friendly banter, but he knows he’s venturing into dangerous territory and tries to drown the thought as soon as it emerges, the same way he had physically drowned Niccolò, without much of a second thought.

“Hey, do you guys like to smoke? We brought some good weed that we could share” asked Aurelio.

“Ahh yes you’re saving us because we didn’t bring any” responded Elia. Gio and Luca looked at Aurelio like Christmas came early.

“Well we thought we’d celebrate as it’s just us boys you know. No girls on our backs telling us what to do and all that” added Aurelio.

“Yeah no Magdalena in sight” joked Stefano. His three best friends looked at him with a knowing look. This seems to be an inside joke, and it got Martino curious.

“Who’s Magdalena?” Martino asked.

“My ex-girlfriend” Niccolò responded straight away in a stern voice. He wasn’t looking at Martino when he said it. When he finally did there was something foreign in his eyes, a distance that Martino had never seen before. It took him a while to register the information. An ex-girlfriend. A girlfriend. A girl. Of course, girls would be into Niccolò. Of course, Niccolò would be into girls. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to Martino, but it still stung him in a way that wasn’t comfortable. That’s what Martino gets for letting his guard down, for thinking for even a second that Niccolò could be into him. Martino hasn’t learnt his lesson apparently and he feels so very stupid for falling for a straight guy on his first day of vacation.

“We’re also completely girls free, so we can celebrate together. What about we hang out on the beach tonight then?” asked Gio to the group, breaking the awkward silence that followed Niccolò’s revelation. “We could play some games, play music and all that, what do you say?”

“Yeah sounds good! we could meet up here again after diner” responded eagerly Amir.

“That’s a deal!” concluded Gio.

All boys looked enthusiastic at the idea. It was almost seven when the two groups of boys collected their stuff and went their separate ways, the contrabbandieri to the campsite, and the other boys to Aurelio’s cousin’s. Martino hadn’t dared look at Niccolò again. On the way to their tent, Gio looks over at Martino, who didn’t have it in him to feign being cheerful. Gio knew him too well anyway, so there was no point in pretending. Gio didn’t say anything but it was clear he noticed. Martino knew Gio would ask about it later, but for now all Martino wanted to do was take a shower and try to get a certain pair of green eyes out of his mind.

[mrmichaelchadler]

Maria by Callas

True to its title, “Maria by Callas: In Her Own Words” delivers the legendary opera singer’s life story through television interviews, letters to friends and diary entries. “Destiny is destiny, there’s no way out,“ she complains in the film’s opening moments. It’s true, much of her life seems out of her control, in the hands of a controlling mother before fame and managers took over. It’s an aching compilation of a woman branded as difficult yet adored as one of operas’ biggest stars in the 20th century. “Maria by Callas” offers a new side to her legend, one that was also vulnerable, smart but also lonely, a fate that sometimes befalls headstrong women.

Born in Brooklyn to Greek immigrants, Maria Callas was pushed into her art at an early age by a forceful mother escaping a broken marriage. Maria would later openly say she did not have a happy childhood. Callas was uprooted to Europe, continuing her musical education in Greece before wooing crowds in Italy and France with her talent. It was during this meteoric rise that Callas became branded as a difficult diva, a black mark that would follow her for the rest of her career. The reason? She had fallen ill and said she was unable to sing. Callas was pilloried in the press for allegedly refusing to perform, and we’ll see this pattern many more times throughout her career.

Paradoxically, the accusations of acting like a diva only drove more interest in the opera singer, as it made her performances less frequent. She would endure various more highs and lows, especially when inexplicable vocal problems shattered her confidence. But in these pastel-colored photos and film reels were hints of a charmed life, surrounded by the likes of Omar Sharif, Grace Kelly, Luchino Visconti, Vittorio De Sica and even a brief fling with director Pier Paolo Pasolini.

Callas perhaps never felt love or heartbreak as deeply as she did during her relationship with the Greek shipping tycoon, Aristotle Onassis. In Callas’ account, the two became inseparable for almost a decade until he suddenly married Jacqueline Kennedy without so much as telling Callas about the relationship. It devastated her, yet when he came sulking back, she took him in and resumed their affair. Onassis never married her, which casts a dark shadow over the black-and-white TV interviews where Callas says how badly she wanted domestic bliss. That happiness was also denied her.

The montage of images and narration blend together to give a personalized touch to a documentary about a singer who died back in 1977. However, there are moments when Callas’ singing overwhelms the film, like during selections from her famous opera that play on and on, disrupting the brisk pace of events. It’s clear that director Tom Volf has great admiration for Callas and wants to give new audiences a sampling of her greatest hits. For admirers, those filmed performances and old records are a chance to savor the notes and range of Callas’ voice. For the curious newcomer, it might feel as if the documentary took a long pit stop from the narrative. Coupled with the odd affectation of adding film sprockets to the sides of photographs, the interruptions in Callas’ story feel noticeable.

Despite Callas’ many tragedies, the leftover clips and pictures are nonetheless a detailed time capsule of high society at that time. The gorgeous footage of her performances and outfits doubles as a midcentury fashion documentary. In almost every photo and reel, her eyeliner is perfectly emphasized, her hair styled and her clothes immaculately designed to look elegant at all hours and occasions. Everyone from the men who complained about Callas’ behavior to her adoring public waiting for hours outside Lincoln Center is included in her story, but ultimately, they never overshadow the subject’s voice in the narrative. This time, it’s her turn to speak for herself.

from All Content https://ift.tt/2QeR48M

[contrabbandiera-di-elia]

This is another of my Contrabbandieri in Hogwarts fic. It can read together or as standalone. They're not connected at all. And again: It’s just a small ficlet, please don’t dwell on the sense or logic. You won’t find it. For the plot purposes, we pretend that it’s okay for Italians to attend Hogwarts. We also pretend it’s okay that this fic takes place during/slightly before the Harry Potter era. And we pretend the canon ages doesn’t matter, so the Contrabbandieri and Le Matte are in their sixth year and everyone canonically older than them (Niccolo, Filippo, Villa Boys, Rose Squad…) is in seventh. Not that it matters in such a short fic. There is no specific plot and it probably won't have a continuation. Probably! I can accept a prompt for this AU. I can do almost every ship and POV, the thing is I’m not that great in writing in English, so don’t expect anything better than this thing below. No beta, of course. And you may spot some inconsistencies. I haven’t read/watch HP in a long time. But I’ve done some research, and it should be more or less fine.

Elippo Week 2020 Day 7 Free Day

—

Martino sighed loudly, trying to get comfortable on the bench he was sitting on. He wasn’t really a fan of quidditch, but it didn’t change the fact that he was attending almost each and every match. One of the many disadvantages of having his best friends scattered through all three remaining houses, with two of them actually playing in a team. The only match he could possibly skip was Slytherin versus Hufflepuff. Still, he usually attended this one too in recent years, there was usually some reason to do so. Sofia or Edoardo or… Generally, there was always a reason to do so.

This time, it was Ravenclaw versus Slytherin. So, of course, Martino had to come. Not only his house’s team was playing, but also Elia was playing. And to make things worse, one of his Slytherin friends suddenly became very interested in quidditch, although he never really cared about any kind of sport.

“Since when you’re into quidditch, Filo?” Asked Giovanni, not a bit of malice in his voice, pure curiosity.

“Well, I have to cheer on my house, don’t I? You know, after all, my beloved sister’s boyfriend is the captain of a team.”

“So why you're sitting here in Ravenclaw section instead of cheering on him from Slytherin’s section?” Asked Luca, surprisingly accurately, not at all like a typical Luchino.

“In fact, why are you all sitting in the Ravenclaw section even though none of you is from Ravenclaw?” Sighed Sana somewhere from next to Filippo. Her presence, quite contrary, was on point. Not only was she a Ravenclaw, but also, her brother was a captain and keeper of the Ravenclaw team.

“He came here because he has a—”

“AND GOOOOOAL! A round of applause for my dearest friend, Rocco Martucci, for scoring one for Slytherin! Too bad all the ladies are too focused on Edoardo Incanti to see this heroic act. Well, too bad for you all, my girls, but Edo is happily taken so he won’t even—”

“Rodi, this comment was unnecessary!”

“I’m just stating the facts, Professor. It’s better if they know it, otherwise, it’d be—”

“RODI!”

Chicco Rodi and Professor McGonagall’s conversation effectively drove the attention of what Niccolo was about to say. Martino sighed once again, finally trying to focus on the game. Elia was flying high above the other players, and so was Slytherin’s seeker, whatever was his name, Martino didn’t really remember. They were both focused and seemed unbothered by the whole game taking place underneath him. Which, in the case of Elia, was quite atypical. He was not the quiet, focused kind of guy. That was the side of him that was visible only during the quidditch matches.

Martino glanced at Filippo and saw his eyes fixed on Elia as well. Of course, after all, that was all he came for.

Martino knew about Filippo’s crush for weeks now. At first, it was hard to get the truth out of him, but finally, he spilled. Martino couldn’t really say it came as a surprise. He had his suspicions for a while; after all, he and Filippo were friends, they were in the same house and (starting from quite recently) the same big group of friends. It was hard not to notice the way Filippo’s eyes were naturally searching for Elia, the way he was laughing at his poor jokes, how he was beaming every time Elia paid him even a little bit of attention. He was helplessly into him, and sometimes Martino was sure that pretty much everyone knew about it.

Well, almost everyone. Elia was quite clueless and seemed completely unaware of Filippo’s feelings. Martino wasn’t sure if that was for better or for worse. On the one hand, he would have nothing against his friends dating. Their group was full of couples, one more didn’t make a difference. Plus, he really wanted both of them happy. He had a hunch that they’d be good for each other. On the other hand, he wasn’t quite sure about Elia. He was never talking much about his feelings; most of the time, they had to decipher it themselves before he told them anything. And Martino couldn’t just ask him, “hey, do you like guys?”. Everything he could do was wait, observe…

…and attend quidditch matches. Unfortunately.

“Could it be? YES! It’s Elia Santini with a snitch! Sorry, Slytherin, maybe another time!”

Martino looked back to the field to see Elia wave his hand victoriously. Ravenclaw’s section started screaming happily, standing up from their seats ready to welcome their team right after it leaves the field. Elia flew a little closer to the Ravenclaw section and… winked. This simple gesture confused Martino. And not only him. Giovanni threw him a surprised glance. It wasn’t Elia’s style to play for the audience like that. It had to be directed at someone. Martino looked at Filippo cautiously, but he seemed just as confused as Gio. But Martino was sure Elia winked at one of them.

After the congratulations and effusive greetings, still in his quidditch robes, Elia got to their friends, still beaming from happiness.

“How did you like the game?” Asked Elia, although his eyes were focused on Filippo only. Giovanni and Luca instantly started with their vivid commentary, while the older boy shrugged nonchalantly.

“Oh, I don’t really know. I wasn’t paying attention,” he said. The biggest bullshit Martino had ever seen. And Elia seemed to know it as well because he only smiled mischievously.

“Of course, you weren’t.”