#oh pazzo

[fiilteer]

ah

#oh god oh god oh god oh god #okay im okay im totally normal about this #taehyung #bts #sto pazzo sgravato mi fa prendere infarti in treno

[goldsainz]

ART DECO — one shot.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @whatthefuckerr @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55

request: “📀 — "art deco" by Lana Del Rey + Charles Leclerc please?”

NOTE: this has some drinking mentions, so if you don’t feel comfortable with that pls don’t read! cant believe carlos got pole in monza… the chances of ferrari actually getting a 1-2 are higher so yk what maybe this fic could become somewhat less fictional! MONZA IS FOR THE DREAMERS🙏

liked by charles_leclerc, patriciooward and 681,329 others

yourusername partay in italay

view all 10,219 comments

charlesfan1 charles teach us your ways🙏

ynfan1 suddenly i’m gay

charles_leclerc You drunk enough for the both of us

⤷ yourusername i regret everything

ynfan2 now i wanna go out too

ynfan3 this weekend better give her a reason to party too

pierregasly How’s the hungover?

⤷ yourusername made me consider never drinking again

charlesfan2 as a tifosi i’m glad charles’s good luck charm is here

charlesfan3 i wish i looked that good after getting drunk

charlesfan4 not her partying when it’s race week

⤷ ynfan4 not u being pressed when charles was right there with her😭

liked by yourusername, joris_trouche and 136 others

charles.jpg pasta con il mio amore

view all 24 comments

yourusername l'amore della mia vita the love of my life

⤷ charles_leclerc Sono pazzo di te I’m crazy about you

⤷ carlossainz55 Stop pretending you speak italian, Y/N🙄

⤷ yourusername i speak more than you for sure. and i don’t drive for ferrari.

⤷ carlossainz55 Too far.

leclerc_pascale ❤️

⤷ charles.jpg Je t'aime tellement maman I love you so much mum

⤷ yourusername tu nous manques énormément 🫶 we miss you very much

pierregasly Ohhh italian 🤌🤌

⤷ charles.jpg Zitto Shut up

⤷ pierregasly 🤨

liked by scuderiaferrari, sebastianvettel and 759,104 others

yourusername red party because FERRARI WON!!!!

view all comments

charlesfan31 i just love the caption only being about ferrari winning😭 she’s just like me fr

charlesfan32 the tifosi celebrating was insane actually

charles_leclerc Il mio più grande sostenitore ❤️ My biggest supporter

⤷ yourusername ti amo per sempre!!! i love you forever

ynfan31 don’t even watch f1 but i’m crying for them

charlesfan33 forget charles i want her

charlesfan34 Y/N YOU NEED TO COME TO MORE RACES!!

⤷ yourusername I WILL!!!

⤷ charlesfan34 every tifosi in the world just cheered

ynfan32 oh she ate

charlesfan35 bro i’m in love with her

ynfan33 ONE CHANCE. ALL I NEED.

ynfan34 red is so her colour!!!! ferrari pls get more 1-2 races🙏

liked by arthur_leclerc, isahernaez and 702,851 others

yourusername a little party never hurt no one!

view all 10,542 comments

charles_leclerc It hurts us… but whatever you say, mon amour

⤷ yourusername shhhhh

ynfan41 that blanket looks so comfy

ynfan42 i just know that sleep slapped

charlesfan41 honestly think they could’ve partied more but they stopped bc they would’ve collapsed

⤷ yourusername trust the party hasn’t stopped, we’re just moving it💪

⤷ carlossainz55 We’re partying until the next race!

⤷ yourusername THAT’S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR CARLITOS

ynfan43 who knows the next time there will be a ferrari 1-2😭

charlesfan42 if i were them i would party 24/7

ynfan44 LOOK AT HOW CHARLES LOOKS AT HER THO

charlesfan43 i just know charles is a great cuddler

#*ੈ✩༄ my works ! #── my 2k celly #charles leclerc #addison rae #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc smau #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 social media au #f1 smau #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 social media au #formula 1 smau

[the-hole-in-terzos-shoe]

Cast Out

Papa Emeritus III (Terzo) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of binding, mythical creatures, idk it's mostly pretty sappy

Word Count: 6.8k

It's finally here! For some reason I really hit a wall with the smut and it slowed me down, ALAS I hope you enjoy Miss Reader falling terribly in love with the angel she found in Primo's garden 🥰

Photo credit: @nabizboslugu

You stand nearly frozen, peeking your head out from behind a shrub, frightened as you stare at the massive heap of black feathers curled up in the garden maze. Unable to look away, you watch as the figure shakes with angry tears, punching the ground hard enough to feel like an earthquake. You can't make out much about them, just seeing a shred of pale skin here and there, and that raven black hair... darker even than the dusty black wings.

"H-hello..." you stutter out, not even sure what your own tone meant. The figure stops; facing away from you, they continue their heavy breathing, perhaps trying to calm down. Their wings lower slightly giving you a better look at their profile: short dark hair that fell just above the ears, sharp jawline, and muscular shoulders. They cut their eyes at you, whether to look at you without turning or out of anger you aren't sure.

In what is likely a stupid move, you step out from behind the bush that had been keeping you safe, "Hey... Are you okay?"

The huge black wings curl around the figure in a protective manner, and he turns slightly to you. Still at a distance from him, you can't make out his features perfectly, but he looks handsome despite the scowl, and you catch a twinkle of something in his left eye.

You hold your hands out to him like you would to an injured animal and take a step forward; he immediately recoils. "I- I'm sorry..." you whisper, staggering back to where you started. Tears start to well up in your eyes. 𝘚𝘰 𝘥𝘶𝘮𝘣. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴.

You think about turning away to go get help when you hear a raspy, "You're scared, too." You can't tell if it's a statement or a question. You look back up, finally making eye contact, seeing the white eye for certain this time.

"Yes, I am, but I won't hurt you. I just want to help you," you tell him honestly, with as clear a voice as you can muster.

"That's... brave. Talking to a 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 like me." He cringes at the word. "I used to be beautiful..." he utters quietly to himself.

"Don't call yourself that! I mean- it's just- you're not a creature... You're quite lovely," sure enough, this little encounter has you blushing as you step closer to him again. "Is there anything I can do to help you? You're not hurt, are you?" you offer before any awkward silence has a chance to settle in.

"No, no, I am alright. I'm not even sure what I need. It's been a long time since I've been on Earth," he looks at the ground forlornly.

"What exactly does that mean, umm?" You inquire his name, sitting on your knees near him.

"Oh, uhhh, Alessandro," he supplies.

"Alessandro..." you try the name out on your tongue before replying with your own. "So were you somewhere else?"

"Sì, I was. I, uhh-" he looks away from you, like he doesn't want to disappoint you. "You will think I'm pazzo."

You giggle at his Italian, having picked up a little from working in the church, especially around Primo and Secondo. "You're not crazy. The church here that I'm a part of... We believe in some pretty, um, unconventional things. Why do you think I didn't just run screaming in the other direction?"

That pulls a small chuckle from him before he bites his lip, really looking you over for the first time, "You're very lovely, too, cara."

Blushing yet again, you refocus the conversation, "So where were you before you came here?"

"Heaven," Alessandro answers bluntly.

"Heaven? Are- are you?"

"Un angelo caduto? Sì."

"Wow..." With your eyes wide, you have about a million questions you want to ask the man in front of you, but only one comes to mind, "Do you want to go inside?!"

He seems a little taken aback by your question.

"In the church," you gesture towards the towering brick spires of the building overlooking the gardens. "You can stay with us, and Secondo will know just what to do to help you."

"S-Secondo?" he has an outwardly confused look at the name, meaning "second."

"Yes, Papa Secondo and his brother Primo. They'll help you. I've only read about fallen angels before, but rumor has it that they've met some," you had taken on quite an academic tone, happy that your studies had finally paid off.

"Their names are First and Second?" the angel grumbles to himself.

You continue rambling while he is stuck in his thoughts, but he is promptly pulled away from his musings when you place your hands on his cheeks. The intense eye contact shared between you silencing both of you.

"Do you wanna go inside?" You repeat your question in a shy whisper this time.

The thought of going anywhere other than where you were going seems less appealing to the angel. "Sì, I'll go with you." His mismatched eyes continue to search yours until you try to help him stand.

You're certainly met with an eyeful as you're reminded that he is, in fact, naked. "Oh, umm," you mumble, covering your face with your hands like a child, "Here, take this." You use one hand to slip off the veil of your habit off your head.

"Oh... How should I?"

"Just hold it!" you demand, carefully uncovering your eyes to see Alessandro holding your veil in front of his nudity. You quickly help him tie it around his hips, before leading him into the monestary you call home.

• • •

After a quick stop by the Siblings' quarters to drape him in some proper robes, your next stop is Secondo's door. The leader of the ministry was rarely in his office, so you head straight to his suite.

A loud knock on the door is met with "Fuck off!"

Another insistent knock. And another response, "Who is it?! What could possibly be so important?"

The grim man swings the door open, face paint smudged and in a robe. 𝘏𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘚𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳--𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭--𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘥. He opens his mouth to berate you for bothering him, but he stops cold when he sees Alessandro.

They both immediately notice the shared white iris.

"Fratellino?" Secondo whispers to the angel, still in shock. He straightens up, taking in a sharp breath, signature scowl returning to his face, "You must come with me."

"No!" the angel yells, shocking even himself. "Not without her," he declares, grabbing your hand.

"Nonsense. The things we have to discuss... Well, they're bigger than her, frankly." He doesn't mean to be offensive; he's just straightforward--kind of to a fault.

"I don't know you. Why would I go with you? She's gone out of her way to make me welcome here, 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰," he cuts at Secondo. You'd never seen anyone talk to him that way. Papa's eyes widen like he might take the angel's head clean off his shoulders, but he concedes. This issue is bigger than you, after all.

"Fine. The Sorella can come." He huffs before storming off; Alessandro never let go of your hand as you follow Papa, who quickly beats a coded knock on Primo's door before leading you both to some kind of meeting hall.

Sitting in silence at the long table, you squeeze the angel's hand, letting him know everything will be okay.

"What is it, fratello? Is Nihil- Oh," Primo enters, immediately noticing the elephant in the room.

His black wings towering over the back of the ornate chair he sat in, Alessandro asks, "You must be Primo?" Perhaps trying to make a better impression than he had with Secondo.

"Sì, and your name?" The older man extends his arm across the table for a handshake.

"Alessandro."

"Ahh, Alessandro. Nice to meet you, fratellino. And Sorella, good to see you, as well." He cut a questioning look at Secondo.

"Our fallen angel here insisted on bringing her," the antipope gruffly explains.

"Well, it's nice to have a friend, sì? As long as our Sister of Sin can keep a secret?" Primo was always softer than Secondo felt he should be; they balance each other out in this way.

• • •

"You're all fallen angels?!" you blurt out, this being the first time you've spoken the whole meeting.

"Sì, Sorella, what do you think makes Papas special, sets them apart from other humans?" Primo gently explains. "Lucifer chooses the one most likely to dissent from God, just as he did, and places us at the head of his church." Both you and Alessandro feel like your heads are spinning, him because he's just found out why he was cast out of heaven, and you because you feel like you've learned about some secret ancient order.

"Well, with the new Papa sent for us, I suppose we'll need to get him ready for ascension, which is good, because I was getting ready to retire, eh, fratello?" Secondo jokes to Primo.

The angel grabs your hand tightly under the table, overwhelmed. His first day on Earth and now he'll be the leader of some Satanic church?

"Actually, that's perfect," Secondo continues, gesturing to your clasped hands, "La Sorella can help you with your new face paints while Primo and I discuss this with Sister Imperator. Glad you've finally arrived, 𝘛𝘦𝘳𝘻𝘰." The figurehead pats the angel on the shoulder before him and his older brother make their exit.

"I have to have one of those stupid names now?" His eyes are able to search yours for the first time since meeting his brothers.

"Well... I think Terzo sounds much nicer than Primo and Secondo. Rolls off the tongue, nicely." The compliment at least attempts to make him feel better about all this. "I had no idea you would be our next Papa when I brought you in here. I'm sorry if you don't want it-"

"Shhh... Clearly this place means a lot to you, cara mia, and my God didn't care enough to keep me in the place that meant so much to me. Maybe your Dark Lord has a better plan for me, sì? Besides... What did Primo say? It's nice to have a friend." His hands caress yours.

"You shouldn't do this just for me. You should only do it if you want to." It's important you let him know that; you didn't want to clip his wings, so to speak.

"I can't describe it... But I trust in you. Maybe I'm meant to do something great here, sì?" You can't deny the hopeful look in his eyes as he thinks about his future here.

• • •

You sit across from Terzo at his vanity in his new papal suite; it had been prepared for a long time, the brothers had been expecting another fallen angel. It is kind of stuffy in the room since it hadn't been used a lot, but a few open windows help it to feel more fresh.

The angel sits, wringing his hands together staring at the little pans of black and white face paint before him. The thought of covering such a beautiful face... now that's a sin. "I don't know... I think it should be, erm, softer than theirs. It seems they really embraced the scary thing with their looks." You can tell it's a half hearted effort from the man in front of you; he's clearly still having reservations about all this, but you'll do your best to make him feel at home, to make him the best Papa he can be. It feels like a lot of responsibility for one Sister of Sin.

"Okay, so, maybe no teeth like Secondo?" you posit.

"No teeth. And clean lines, unlike Primo."

"What if we give it sharp angles? It'll make you intimidating but not scary."

"Like that?" He points at the stained glass window over the claw footed bathtub. It's an art deco style abstract design; clearly this room was added on after the rest of the abbey, but it's still antique. It makes you wonder how long they've been expecting this new angel, and how old Primo and Secondo actually are...

"Yes, like that! Do you like that?" Your excitement over making a new Papa fights with your concern for how he's feeling.

A small smile cracks on his lips, "Sì, I do like it. I think it looks..."

"Cool?!"

He chuckles at your childlike wonder, "Sì, 'cool,' I suppose. As I said, I trust you, cara mia."

Now, you were no expert artist, and neither was he, but after about an hour of passing the brush back and forth and about a million makeup remover wipes, you had some kind of product.

"What do you think, Ale- Terzo?"

He stops looking in the mirror for a second to give you a playful side eye, "AleTerzo, eh? A new nickname already? I joke, tesoro. You can call me Alessandro if you like, I don't want to lose my old self entirely."

The thought is actually kind of sad, but he's handling it so well.

"What do you think, cara?" His fingertips on your jaw pulling you from your thoughts.

"Alessandro... I think it looks so good," your eyes admire all the hard work you had both put in on his face, "It's totally different from the other Papas, but the dark eyes really bring out your scowl, and the angles on your jaw and hair line certainly bring out your best features... Leaves something to be desired. The other Siblings of Sin are going to freak out when they meet you."

He's happy to be covered in paint so his blush isn't so evident after your tirade of compliments. "There are others like you?" he asks innocently.

"Oh yes, lots! They'll be your biggest fans."

"Fans?"

"You know, like supporters. They'll scream and cheer for you, applauding your name every time you enter the room," you grin at him, already proud of all the things he'll accomplish.

"Oh," he can't help the smile on his face, blush creeping up to his ears. "I shouldn't be so prideful. It's not good to sin."

"This place is all about sin," you urge, grabbing his hands, "Be as prideful as you want, and you'll fit in well here, Papa."

Calling him by his soon-to-be title did nothing but stroke his ego, but he may have also felt some heat gathering in his thighs hearing it come from you.

• • •

The next few weeks were almost a blur, as your days were packed to the brim with preparing Terzo for his new role: fittings for new suits and vestments, of course this was preceded by Secondo teaching his new brother how to bind his wings so no one would know about them, practicing speeches, getting better and better at doing his face paints, learning prayers and rituals. He had to become an expert on Satanism in no time at all, but he constantly reminded you that he would be fine with you at his side; you had sort of become his personal assistant unofficially.

Oh, and the whisperings around the halls of the ministry run rampant. Secondo had already announced his retirement, and Sister Imperator made it known that there was already a new Papa being prepped for ascension.

Ghouls twitch about with excitement, but of course the Siblings can't help but run their mouths.

"What do you think he'll look like? Do you think he'll be hot? Hopefully better looking than Secondo."

"No way, no one could ever be sexier than our Papa Secondo!"

"Maybe he'll have hair..."

That last one made you snort as you passed by the group of chattering friends.

"Well I heard he came from another Abbey! They've been hiding him away for a long time. Maybe we should reach out to see if our extended family knows anything!"

"Oh who cares where he came from? What matters is where he's going, which is hopefully to bed with all of us!!"

They all squealed with giggles at the thought.

However, some of these comments came directed at you with your closest friends knowing something is up:

"You're never on your duties anymore, you get up early, you come to bed late, and you never say a thing about where you are all day!!"

"You've seen him haven't you, the new Papa?!"

"Ohhh I bet she's his new Prime Mover or something! Is he good in bed?!"

"Will you guys shut up?!" you yell at them, hopelessly trying to cover the flush on your cheeks.

"Satanas, it's true! Look at those rosy cheeks!"

"He must be dreamy if he caught your attention, prude!"

Your friend catches an elbow in the side for that one.

"Listen, I can't say anything," you start in your best gossip-y voice, "but perhaps the rumors aren't too far off. Except for that last one about me, that was very off base."

The small Senior Siblings lounge fills with fits of laughter and excited anticipation over this mystery man.

• • •

"Cara, I don't know if I can do this," your new Papa grabs your hand, moments from the metaphorical curtain going up.

"All week you've been so excited about meeting everyone, where did that go?" you coo softly to him, trying to soothe his nerves while picking a piece of lint from his vestments.

He addresses you by name, a serious look in his two-toned eyes, "What if they don't like me?"

"Trust me, Papa, they're going to love you."

You calling that always does something to him, and he pulls you impossibly close to him with an arm around your waist. He lingers on your lips for a moment but thinks better of it, instead leaning his forehead to yours, noses touching, his eyes are the only thing you can see.

"They loved Secondo didn't they? And you know how gruff he can be," you attempt to reassure him again, drawing a breathy laugh from him.

He holds you like that for a while, relishing in the peace you always bring him, "Thank you, amore. I couldn't do any of this without you."

"Oh hush. You're Papa Emeritus III now, you can do anything!"

"But you made me into Papa. Your Papa. Just how you'd like your leader to be."

Pink starts to creep up your neck; you guess he has a point, "I just did what's best for the ministry."

"Maybe you should be Papa then, no?" He giggles at you.

"No no," his flattery getting to your cheeks again, "You were sent for us, remember? That makes you special. I'm just a Sister of Sin, and I'll get lost in the sea of Siblings once you meet all of them..."

"Shh! How could you say that? You will always stand out to me, tesoro," his hand cups the back of your head, feeling your soft hair. You both close your eyes.

"Alessandro..." You can feel his breath on your face.

𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘊𝘒 𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘊𝘒 𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘊𝘒! "Two minutes!"

The loud bang and Sister Imperator's cold voice pushes you about a mile apart. Terzo looks at you with a wicked grin and giggles like a school girl.

"What?!" you ask pointedly, trying to get your nerves settled, as you smoothe down your habit and veil.

"You are Papa now, see?" he starts snickering as you look in the mirror of his dressing room. Sure enough, there was white paint on your forehead and black at the tip of your nose.

Grabbing a makeup wipe and scrubbing your face, "Satanas! We have got to start setting your face with powder."

Less than a minute later, some ghouls enter the room in their new silver masks to lead Papa out to the chapel's altar. You quickly slip his mitre over his jet black hair, and wish him luck before he exits the room.

Even from the little dressing room behind the stage, you hear the eruption of clapping and shouts. You sit in the room alone for a moment, taking it all in. Likely, you'll go back to your regular duties after this; after all, you'd only been included in the plans because you'd been the one to find him in the garden, and the upper clergy wanted as few people involved as possible.

𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘥. You take a deep breath and leave the little space, heading to the back of the chapel to watch the new Papa take his reign.

Man, he far exceeds your expectations. He works the crowd beautifully, reaching down to take Siblings' hands, kissing some knuckles here and there, and he takes his time with it. He doesn't rush in, and perhaps that only makes him more alluring. Through his speech and greetings, he is surprisingly charismatic, though you suppose it peeked through in little ways when he was with you.

Among the chatter, you heard Siblings gawking over how hot he is, how they can't wait for their chance to warm his bed, some even saying they might use alone time in the confessional to their advantage. Hiding a laugh, you think 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯. You can only imagine how Alessandro will handle those kinds of comments. 𝘏𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. And there it is: the familiar pang of jealousy in your stomach.

The thought wouldn't leave your mind. Of course everyone else talked about getting into bed with him, but it hadn't crossed your mind about him actually wanting that. You can't help it; you need to leave. Although you're incredibly proud of how far he's come, you don't want to ruin his first night as Papa Emeritus III with this stupid little crush.

• • •

As Terzo enters his rooms, he calls for you, "Cara mia! Tonight was excellent! Did you have a great time?" He leans back on the heavy wooden chamber door and is met with silence. "Piccolina?"

Normally, you always wait for him in his suite after your long days working. Why should today be any different?

He calls out your name, moving into his bedroom, then his bathroom looking for you. His eye catches the stained glass above the tub. "Where is she?" he asks the window as if it would respond.

His mind starts racing, thinking back to when he'd last seen you. It dawns on him that he hadn't seen you at dinner, and he'd been so overwhelmed with the crowd in the chapel that he would hardly remember any of their faces. Was the dressing room really the last time?

Terzo rushes over to the heavy wooden door again swinging it open, but he stops dead in his tracks when he realizes he has no idea where to look for you.

"Hey! Ghoul!" He isn't good with their names yet. "Could you please send for my dear assistant? I can't find her anywhere. Oh, and please bring leftovers from the kitchen, too."

The Ghoul quickly heads off, grateful that the new Papa at least says please when asking something.

• • •

Quickly being carted into Papa's room by a Ghoul had you nervous. 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮?

Through the door, Terzo comes into view, pacing back and forth across his living space. Suddenly you're made very aware of the fact that you're only in your night gown and robe. "Papa, I'm sorry I'm not in my habit, it just seemed so urgent, and I didn't wanna keep you wait-"

"Shush, il mio bambino," he quiets you, scooping you into a hug, "You know I don't care about those habits. I may make it a rule to get rid of them. I'm just happy you're okay, tesoro." He steps back, looking you over for bruises and scratches as if you were an injured animal, "Where did you go this evening? You weren't at dinner, and you weren't in my room when I got back."

"I, uhh," you start, looking down at the floor, "I wasn't feeling well, so I just went back to my room... Besides..." Your face scrunches up, trying not to tear up. You were going to miss working with him all the time, you'd grown so close over these weeks.

"Besides, what, piccolina?" his face cups your cheek; he longs to look into your eyes again.

"Well, it's... it's not really my place to wait in your chambers anymore. I'm sure they'll be assigning you a new assistant soon. A real one who knows what they're doing."

"Tesoro, who ever said a word about getting a new assistant?" he demands, picking your chin up with his index finger.

"No one. It's just the way things are around here. People get assigned to jobs or committees when they're needed, then reassigned when the job is done. Now that everyone knows you're Papa, you don't need me anymore." Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks, but Terzo is quick to wipe them away, snatching off his white cotton glove to do the trick.

"How many times must I tell you, amore, I'm stronger with you by my side?" The look he bores into you is almost too much to take, but it means he's serious. "I'm Papa now, so you stay where I choose."

Clearly understanding the power of his new position, he holds you close, letting you know you won't go anywhere if you don't want to.

"Thank you, Alessandro," your voice comes muffled from where you held your head against his chest, the thump of his heart calming you down.

"Please, tesoro, come sit. You need to eat."

You peek over his shoulder at the spread on the little coffee table by the couch.

You sniffle a little before apologizing, "I'm sorry I missed your first dinner as Papa."

"Nonsense, we have dinner now, and I'm still Papa!" His goofy tone made you laugh as you relaxed into the plush furniture. "Please, eat. I must get out of these clothes." His words left no room for argument, but you did like the thought of him getting out of his clothes... Besides, you knew exactly what that looked like from your first meeting. You fight the heat coming to your face by stuffing your mouth with food, and Satanas, it's so good; you're so grateful Terzo thought to have this brought up for you.

You had probably taken down half the plate by the time he saunters back into the room, papal robes discarded, wearing nothing but a pair of silk pajama pants hanging low on his hips; even the paint is gone.

"Excuse my appearance, cara, my wings couldn't take the binding anymore," he explains, getting comfortable next to you on the couch, "and my skin can hardly take anymore of that paint!"

You both share a laugh, before you remind him, "Secondo says you'll get used to it, give it some time, pretty boy." Your eyes stray from his face, carefully observing the tone of his muscles and the dusting of dark hair across his chest, leading south to-

"So you think I'm pretty, eh?"

"It's just a saying," you mumble, trying to brush him off.

"Ah, but you said it, no?" His argument barely makes sense, but he still has a smug grin on his face. "I think you are pretty, amore mio, così bella..." His eyes are practically burning into your soul as he pesters you. "At least I can be honest about it," he tuts his tongue at you.

"Fine!! You're pretty! Are you happy now?!" you nearly explode at him.

Cheekily, he leans over, laying his head in your lap and looking up at you. It was a miracle you didn't take a wing to the face. "Sì."

"𝘚𝘪," you mimic him, sticking your tongue out.

"Ahhh, la ragazza dà la lingua ora, sì?" (Ahhh, the girl gives tongue now, yes?) He bites his lip, which definitely draws your attention to them.

"Non a ragazzini stupidi, no," you fire back. (Not to stupid little boys, no.)

"Bella mia..." the surprise and excitement in Alessandro's eyes is undeniable, "tu parli italiano?" (You speak Italian?)

"Un po', sì." (A little, yes.)

"Mmm, dovrò vedere cos'altro può fare quella lingua," he jabs at you, sitting up in front of you, one eyebrow quirked up. (Mmm, I'll have to see what else that tongue can do.)

There's a notable silence as you flush a deep red color at that remark. For the second time that night, your faces are only centimeters from one another, and Terzo doesn't intend to miss his chance this time. Gently, his fingers curl into the locks of hair just behind your ears, tilting your head back ever-so-slightly before closing the space between your lips, his nose nuzzling against yours.

Your eyes flutter closed, and your hands nervously fumble for his skinny little waist. The kiss is soft and sweet, but it sparks a fire between you.

Taking your time, your hands slide up the slope of his back, nimble fingers making contact with the base of his wings. His breath hitches in his throat as your angel pulls off of you, not going very far though.

"I'm sorry, Alessandro..." your apology is whispered.

"No, bella, is okay. Continua così," he pants out, his lips soon back on yours.

With a delicate touch, your hands explore his wings once again, the dusty black feathers soft but strong beneath your digits. It seems like Terzo staves off a moan as he moves to straddle your lap, warm hands returning to your face.

One of your hands continues gliding itself across the massive appendages cocooning you both while the other threads itself in the short black hair at the nape of his neck. Curling your fingers tightly in his locks earns a whimper from the man on top of you; it sounds needy and has that fire in you moving toward your core.

Finally, after making him wait so patiently, you open your hot mouth to him, letting him know 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 what your tongue can do. As the raven haired man presses himself closer against you, you find his desire has already manifested itself as his cock stands at attention in the loose silk pants, pressed between your bellies. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, needing to feel as close to you as possible, even digging his nails into your skin a bit as he works your robe off your shoulders.

It was only when you both could no longer breath that Alessandro broke the kiss, opting instead to attack your neck with his open-mouthed lust. Immediately drawing a sigh from you, your grip on his hair tightens. Unable to take your lust-blown eyes off the beautiful feathers your fingers tangled in, it took one word falling off your lips to make your new antipope come undone, "...Papa..."

In a snap, Terzo had you pulled up off the couch and already walking you backwards to his bedroom. Your knees hit the back of the bed, but before you can fall, soft fingertips slide the thin straps of your gown down your form, leaving you bare in front of him. "Bellissima..."

You lean up, kissing him slowly but kind of sloppy. Pressing your hands to his chest, your mouth starts it's descent, leaving hot open mouthed kisses and love bites trailing down from his jaw, his neck, his shoulder, following his happy trail until your warm breath traces over the waistband of his tented pajamas. Your knees form depressions in the lush carpet, while your fingernails drag at the silk separating you from him. He looks down at you with so much anticipation, hand cupping in your hair, as you start to palm him through the thin fabric.

Seeing your face nuzzle up against his sex drags a groan from him, a small wet spot forming at his tip. Freeing his erection at last, your mouth quickly envelops him, tongue swirling around the tip before taking it as deep as you can while your hand works the base of his shaft. Terzo huffs out a breath, wings really showcasing how much he relaxed at the sensation. He fights the compulsion to move his hips, although the warm wet of your mouth feels so divine on him.

"I finally see why Satan rewards sin so fruitfully, Sorella..." That phrase really made it sound like he'd embraced his role as Papa. "I may see stars if you don't stop."

With that, you leave him with a lewd pop, a harsh juxtaposition to his poetic words. The pad of his thumb wipes the saliva from your swollen lips, and he pulls you to your feet and into a fiery kiss, tasting a hint of himself on you. Another groan flutters from his vocal chords when you feel feathers pressings against your curves. Wings caress you carefully, almost protectively, as the soft plumes tickle your nude form.

Unfortunately their warmth leaves you, but it's quickly replaced by Terzo hooking your knee over his hip so he can walk you back onto the soft bed. Soon as your head hits the pillow, your lover finds his place beside you, hands exploring the folds he so desperately wanted to familiarize himself with. As his middle finger softly flicks over your clit, it elicits a jolt from your muscles, and Alessandro delights in bringing you such pleasure.

Your arms wind around his neck, hands finding themselves in his soft hair once again, while his fingers tease at your entrance, sliding a digit in only a knuckle deep. Your wanton moan lets him know you need more, and he obliges, diving his finger in to the hilt. Before long, he's adding another one; he just can't help but want to pull more of those beautiful sounds from you. His roaming eyes stop on yours and you end up locked in a heated make out, muffling your whines and moans against him.

Already wanting more, your hand trails down his form, lightly scratching at his neck, his chest, his abdomen, before fingers hungrily grasp his hard length. Now it's his turn to moan. He hadn't realized how neglected that area was until you start pumping your hand lazily up and down, up and down.

You could almost stay happy like that, masturbating one another, but you both know it won't suffice. Another moment lingers until Terzo is pushing your knees apart, making room to reside between your legs.

Now on top of you, lips hardly ever leaving you, you're both gasping as he grinds his sex against yours. Noticing the black cocoon of feathers around you once again, you reach out for them, brushing your fingers through some individual blades. It causes the man above you to furrow his brows with his jaw dropping open and eyes nearly rolling back.

"Please, amore," he begs, head falling right next to your ear, "let me make love to you."

Feeling him fill you earns him probably the neediest moan that's ever left you; it just feels so good, his hardness pressing against your walls so deliciously. You want him so badly you don't even want time to adjust, simply urging him on with a heel pressed to his lower back.

Intimacy had never felt so... intimate before. With one of his hands laced with yours, and the other cradling your head, never letting it hit the pillow, you'd never felt so close to someone, so vulnerable yet so cared for. It's as if he's locked in a trance worshipping you.

His lips trace the softest kisses across your collarbone, heightening you sensitivity there, before nipping lightly with his teeth. It causes your legs to tighten around his waist, only motivating him to move his hips against you with more fervor. Your free hand scratches at his back, holding a death grip at the base of his wing when the tip of his cock drags across that sweet spot inside you.

"Hell... Sweet Satanas, Alessandro, again!" He kind of likes being ordered around by you, so he quickly indulges you, bending one of your legs at a sharper angle, allowing him to find that spot with every thrust. You simply can't stop the near screams that come from you as he seeks to pleasure you in every way he can.

It takes no time for your release to creep up on you, "Oh, oh, Ale- I'm!"

Your toes curl and your thighs twitch, while you bite back the sound of your climax. This won't do for the man above you; his hand finds your jaw and gently urges your mouth open, wanting to hear you. And he's rewarded with a stream of whimpers and whines and his name falling off your lips. That combined with your nails scratching at his wing is all it takes for him to follow you over the edge, himself also letting out a few very needy sounds as he fills you with his seed.

His muscles practically give out on top of you, and he lets all his weight rest on you, enjoying the last few moments of bliss before he has to leave that tight, wet heat that feels so good around him. He eventually does pull out, but not without a kiss to distract you.

Rolling off of you, he pulls you onto your side to face him, not wanting to let you go very far at all. "Stay with me, sì?"

"I don't know... I don't have any clothes here." You want to stay, but you're worried you'll get in trouble.

"No no, piccolina, you will stay the night; this is not negotiable. I ask if you will stay by my side? Be my 'assisstant' or whatever silly title I must give you so I may see you every day?"

"If that's what you want, you're Papa after all," your rub your thumb across his cheek, taking in his beautiful mismatched eyes.

"Sì, I am Papa, but is this what 𝘺𝘰𝘶 want, stellina?"

You think about it, really considering the gravity of what he's asking but not really saying. Of course you want it.

"Yes, Papa, I want to see you every day," you nuzzle your nose against his.

"No no, call me Ale like when you cum," he giggles at you, really liking the accidental nickname.

You attempt to hide your blush by burying your face in the crook of his neck, "Yes, Ale, I want to see you every day... Is that better?"

"Perfetto."

You both fell asleep cradled in each other's warmth with one black wing draped across you.

• • •

Your eyes crack open suddenly with the realization you aren't in your quarters. Sitting up and rubbing your face, you look at the clock. 𝘜𝘨𝘩, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱. Carefully and quietly, you move Terzo's arm from around your waist and slide out of bed. You grab the robe he had hooked on his bathroom door, bundling up in it, although it wasn't much compared to his warmth.

The soft orange of the sky catches your attention. 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦? As the golden hour spilled in the large windows, the amber glow of the sun caught the angel's sleeping form so beautifully. Aside from the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he could've been a Renaissance marble sculpture with the way his hair hung over his eyes and the sheet clung to him, draped in all the right places.

Taking in a deep breath and attempting to open his eyes before squeezing them shut again at the bright sun coming up, he just groans and waves at you to come back to bed. He purrs in delight when he feels your weight on the soft mattress, pulling you right back to the spot you'd fallen asleep in.

"Don't ever leave me again," he mumbles with a small smile on his face as he nuzzles his forehead into your shoulder.

"You're so dramatic, you know that?" you whisper in his ear.

"Me? No... It is you who ran off last night, no?" He knew he had you with that one.

"Oh shut up," you try to act mad.

He tuts his tongue at you, "That's no way to speak to your Papa, now is it? Especially your Papa who loves you so much?"

"Ale, you- you?" You can't even repeat it.

"Sì, amore," he kisses you on the forehead, "Ti amo. And I will tell you this every morning you wake up in my arms."

"I love you, too," you declare to him.

You're met with a series of soft kisses that feel suspiciously like the way all of this got started last night. Who knows what you're in for with this angel you found in the garden? All you know is that you wouldn't miss out on it for anything.

#ahhhhh i hope you love it ❤️ #i already have more things planned!!!!! #ghesties i have so much brainrot for these Papas #and you get to reap all the benefits!!!!!! #the band ghost #ghost band #papa emeritus iii #papa iii #terzo #papa 3 #papa terzo #fallen angel #secondo #papa primo #they're in this #au #fanfic #oneshot

[volevoimparareavolare]

perché ami tanto leggere?

Viviamo in una realtà in cui i sentimenti sono stati stirati e appiattiti. Non siamo più in grado di commuoverci per un quadro. Di perderci nella bellezza racchiusa in una poesia. E talvolta la mia sensibilità mi sembra ingombrante, come un giaccone di troppe taglie in più della mia. Mi rende goffa, impacciata, terribilmente strana agli occhi degli altri.

E allora io fuggo nei libri, fra l’inchiostro e la carta, lì, sepolta nel fruscio leggero delle pagine, mi permetto di essere vulnerabile, senza temere di essere ferita. Trafitta senza ricevere nemmeno una parola gentile. O uno sguardo pieno di vergogna per la crudeltà con cui sono stata trattata.

Leggo per ricordarmi che esiste ancora un posto nel mondo in cui possiamo scioglierci nelle nostre debolezze senza essere distrutti ma, al contrario, ricomposti.

E mi ritrovo a danzare fra i frammenti di Saffo, quando ancora le parole avevano un peso, e le emozioni incastonate al loro interno vibravano con un’intensità tale che bisognava inciderle nella pietra, affinché potessero eternarsi nei secoli a venire, e perdurare incorrotti in quelli passati.

Mi ritrovo nel buon Patroclo, che per Achille scese in battaglia indossando la sua armatura, anche se non sapeva combattere.

E i polsi mi tremano, quando leggo di quella passione che portò Paolo a baciare Francesca, e nonostante fosse peccato nemmeno le forze degli inferi seppero scindere ciò che li univa.

E non é forse, il mio silenzio, medesimo a quello di Leopardi, che sempre si limitò, solo, ad amare silvia dalla sommità della sua finestra, componendo in segreto per lei, su lei?

Oh, e quanto bramo qualcuno che mi dedichi le parole che Montale scrisse per la moglie Drusilla!

E quasi disperata, affannata, cerco di scorgere almeno un lontano e flebile bagliore dell’affetto che Theo nutrì per suo fratello Vincent Van Gogh. Incorruttibile, sincero, vero, anche e soprattutto quando tutti gli altri lo considerarono solo un povero pazzo da internare… lui non mise mai in dubbio la bontà del suo animo.

E leggo perché adesso, quando guardo un tramonto, mi vengono in mente tutti quelli che guardava il Piccolo Principe, e questo fa sentire me meno sola.

E quando il mio cuore si é spezzato, coi singhiozzi che mi risalivano alla gola e gli occhi che si scioglievano nel bollore delle lacrime, sorreggendomi al muro mentre le ginocchia non riuscivano più a reggermi, non ho forse avuto anche io i fiori intrecciati nei capelli come Ofelia, quando si é uccisa perché convinta che Amleto non la ricambiasse? Il mio stomaco non si contorse forse come quello di Didone, quando si lasciò cadere sulla spada di Enea, perché la morte le sembrava così dolce e invitante, rispetto al dolore angosciante di una lunga esistenza priva di lui, tormentata dai fantasmi dei suoi ricordi, e della consapevolezza schiacciante, opprimente, che lui non scelse lei?

E quando qualcosa ci fa sentire così bene, non é forse giusto combattere con tutto ciò che abbiamo, come Romeo e Giulietta combatterono contro le loro famiglie; il loro stesso nome e il loro stesso sangue… pur di stare assieme?

L’amore puro, senza schemi e senza leggi, irrazionale… così come molti giudicarono l’azione di Darcy quando chiese la mano ad Elizabeth, nonostante lei appartenesse ad un ceto sociale inferiore?!

E quando vogliamo andare alle feste solo per vedere lui, o lei, non ci stiamo forse comportando come Gatsby, che organizzò feste su feste solo per poter vedere Daisy, almeno una volta?

O quando ci siamo guardati allo specchio e non siamo stati in grado di riconoscere il nostro riflesso, dopo tutto quello che abbiamo fatto… come se fossimo impazziti, perso letteralmente il senno come accadde a Orlando per angelica quando scoprì che lei preferì un umile fante a lui, prode paladino?

Leggo, perché anche io spero di trovare qualcuno che scelga di lottare per me, come Renzo lottò per Lucia. Che mi aspetti, come Penelope attese Ulisse, senza mai cedere alle lusinghe dei Proci. Che mi riconosca, a dispetto del tempo e dello spazio, come il vecchio Argo riconobbe Ulisse, nonostante fossero trascorsi vent’anni e lui fosse travestito. Che metta da parte l’orgoglio per l’amore nei miei confronti, come fece il Re Priamo quando andò al cospetto di Achille per richiedere il corpo del figlio Ettore, affinché potesse seppellirlo con tutti gli onori, donando finalmente pace al vagare errante e tormentato della sua anima.

Forse, amo così tanto leggere perché mi permette sempre di ritrovarmi nei sentimenti e nelle emozioni di qualcun altro. Senza mai farmi sentire sbagliata, o eccessiva, per quello che provo.

Non mi sono mai sentita sola ogni volta che ho aperto un libro.

#mie #frasi mie #Alessia Alpi #Volevoimparareavolare #storia mia #storie mie #frase mia #vita #vivere #amore #persone #frasi #citazioni #frasi belle #verità #frasi vere #lacrime #ti amo #mi manchi #letteratura #ti penso #piangere #dolore #amore per i libri #amore vero #amore doloroso #amore finito #amore lontano #amore tossico

[ash-and-starlight]

Ciao Ash I’ve been following your work super closely for a few years and I now feel like I can ask you this, especially since you seem to be so kind with everyone and always explain yourself so well!

I work in illustration and I’ve been drawing for 10 years. For the kind of illustration I do, I rarely have to draw characters. I can draw people, in a very detailed manner too (portraits and studies and such) but when it comes to incorporating characters in my illustration style, I just can’t seem to get it right. Especially with characters who don’t exist so if I want to do fanart, I always have to do it in a way that is not very coherent to my illustration style. Which is unfortunate since I’m in a lot of fandoms and would really like to make fanart I like.

I rely on references a lot, so if I have to draw someone who exists in my style, I struggle and study and put a lot of work and time in but then I’m mostly able to. But characters from fiction? Absolutely not. I especially struggle with consistency: the character always looks different every time I draw them, no matter how many notes on their physiognomy I make…the fact that’s not a real person I can copy the features of on paper really hinders my practice. I also struggle with immediacy and synthesis: since they never look the same I always end up over - characterizing them and that is the opposite of how I illustrate.

How were you able to maintain such a consistent and stable look to these characters? Is there something I don’t know of or that I haven’t been doing and that I should? You really inspire me and I admire your work SO much! It’s remarkable how you built such a recognizable look.

Ti prego aiutami sto diventando pazzo in culo se non risolvo questa cosa voglio disegnare i miei blorbi !!!!

All the love,

Elio

Ciaooo aaa ty for the nice wordsss :’))

and ok i will try to answer as best as i can bc i’m not a professional in the slightest and also i basically have the diametrically opposite problem as you 😭 90% of my art is blorbo oriented i’m a blorbo artist first human being second. but it’s not like i have the charisma uniqueness nerve and talent to stray much from that.

ANYWAY that being said i’m sorry to give you the Very Hated answer of “u just gotta practice” but i think that’s true! i think drawing characters outside of studies (which are always nice and good etc) might not be something you’re used to, and u just need to stretch your drawing muscles a bit in that direction too!! style and consistency are something that develop organically, so i’m sure that if you keep trying you’ll look at your art one day and be like “oh shit this works!”

Usually when i draw characters i’ve never drawn before i make little studies/portraits to figure out how to draw them (evidence 1/2/3/4) which i think could be a pretty low stake way for you to practice? like maybe you can start off with one referenced portrait and then try to draw the same face from other angles but without looking at that reference and just try to figure out what are the important features that make that face recognizable? Expression sheets are another way u could do this, and then you’d have a nice self made reference board for next time.

or you could start smaller and draw different shapes of eyes/noses/mouths etc to get the hang of it, and once you’re satisfied start building your character with the features you’ve drawn

lastly i cannot stress this enough draw that blorbo NOW!! get fucking obsessed with that freak!!! let them fuel you with the brainrotting blazing passion of 28473 suns and you’ll manage to draw a hundred beautiful faces without even noticing

spero che tu riesca a cavar fuori qualcosa di utile da questo sfaso 😭 in ogni caso sono sicura che riuscirai a disegnare i tuoi blorbini devi solo smadonnare un po’ quando necessario e andare avanti 💕

grazie mille ancoraaaa mwah

#GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR ART ENDEAVORS I HOPE U CAN FIND SOMETHING USEFUL IN THIS!! #ash replies

[teredo-navalis]

Madonna andata a perdere il mio tempo per sentirmi offrire €400/mese per 24h/settimana e ho detto pure sì ma perché ero così in imbarazzo che bho mi vergognavo io per loro, mi hanno detto "ti possiamo inserire già domani per iniziare il corso (propedeutico al lavoro)" e io ho detto "ok" ma poi sono uscita di là super sconvolta cioè davvero x_x e ho detto scusa. io adesso lavoro 4 giorni al mese e prendo €60/giorno. se lavorassi 8 giorni al mese (come mi ha chiesto il titolare) prenderei €480/mese. lavorando. due giorni. a settimana.

Ora io non vorrei dire ma

Ma

Ma

Porca merda oh, col cristo inculato pazzo pisciato che vengo a lavorare da voi per fare la fame con quattro euro all'ora, Gesù bambino in croce.

Va là che roba.

#lavoro

[bestiadastile]

Anaïs,

tutto quello che posso dire è che sono pazzo di te. Ho cercato di scrivere una lettera ma non ce l’ho fatta. Ti scrivo in continuazione - nella mia testa- e i giorni passano e mi chiedo che cosa penserai tu. Aspetto con impazienza di vederti. Martedì è troppo lontano. E non solo martedì - mi chiedo quando verrai e se passerai la notte con me. Quando potrò averti per un bel po’? E’ un tormento per me vederti solo poche ore, e poi dover rinunciare a te. Quando ti vedo, tutto quello che avrei voluto dirti se ne va in fumo - il tempo è così prezioso e le parole sono estranee. Ma tu mi rendi così felice perché posso finalmente parlarti. Amo la tua vivacità, i tuoi preparativi di fuga, le tue gambe come una morsa, il calore fra le tue cosce. Sì, Anaïs, voglio smascherarti. Sono troppo galante con te. Voglio guardarti a lungo e con ardore, toglierti gli indumenti, coccolarti, esaminarti. Lo sai che ti ho guardata appena? Sei rivestita ancora di una sacralità eccessiva.
La tua lettera, ah quegli svarioni! Mi fanno sorridere. E mi inducono anche ad adorarti. È vero, non ti apprezzo abbastanza. Verissimo. Ma non ho mai detto che tu non apprezzi me. Deve esserci un errore, nel tuo inglese. Affermarlo sarebbe troppo egoistico da parte mia.
Anaïs, non so come dirti ciò che provo. Vivo in un perenne stato di attesa. Arrivi, e il tempo vola come in un sogno. È solo quando te ne vai, che mi rendo davvero conto della tua presenza. E allora è troppo tardi. Tu mi instupidisci.
Cerco di immaginarmi la tua vita a Louveciennes, ma non ci riesco. Walter Pach? Un ebbro sogno- e a parte questo non mi piace, non so dire perché. Il tuo libro? Anche questo sembra irreale. Soltanto quando tu arrivi e ti guardo, l’immagine si fa più chiara. Ma tu te ne vai così presto - non so che pensare. Sì, vedo con chiarezza la leggenda puskinniana. Ti vedo con gli occhi della mente seduta su quel trono, gioielli attorno al collo, sandali, grandi anelli, unghie dipinte, strana voce spagnola intenta a vivere una sorta di menzogna che non è proprio una menzogna, piuttosto una fiaba.
[…] Mi sto dicendo: “Ecco qui la prima donna con la quale posso essere assolutamente sincero.” Ricordo che tu mi hai detto: “Potresti ingannarmi. E io non me ne renderei conto.” Quando vado per i boulevard e ci penso - potrei ingannarti, sì, e mi piacerebbe farlo. Voglio dire che non posso mai essere completamente fedele - non è da me. Amo troppo le donne, o la vita - se le une o l’altra, non so. Ma tu ridi Anaïs, amo sentirti ridere. Tu sei l’unica donna che abbia il senso dell’allegria, una saggia tolleranza - semplicemente, dai l’impressione di spronarmi a tradirti. Ti amo per questo. E che cosa te lo fa fare - amore? Oh, è bello amare ed essere liberi allo stesso tempo. 
Non so che aspettarmi da te, ma è qualcosa che ha del miracoloso. Intendo chiederti tutto, anche l’impossibile, perché tu mi incoraggi a farlo. Sei davvero forte. Mi piace persino il tuo inganno, il tuo tradimento. Mi sembra aristocratico. ( La parola “aristocratico” suona così male in bocca a me?)

Sì, Anaïs, pensavo come fare a tradirti, ma non ci riesco. Voglio te. Voglio spogliarti, involgarirti un tantino, ah non so quel che dico. Sono ubriaco perché tu non sei qui. Vorrei battere le mani e, voilà, ecco Anaïs. Voglio possederti, usarti. Voglio chiavarti, voglio insegnarti cose. No, non ti apprezzo, Dio me ne guardi! Forse voglio addirittura umiliarti un tantino - ma perché? perché? Perché non mi getto in ginocchio e mi limito ad adorarti? Non posso. Ti amo in allegria.


Questo ti va?
E, cara Anaïs, io sono tante cose. Tu ora vedi solo quelle buone - o, perlomeno, tu mi persuadi a crederlo. Ti voglio per un’intera giornata almeno. Voglio andare in giro con te, voglio possederti. Non sai quanto insaziabile io sia. O quanto vile. E quanto egoista!


Con te mi sono comportato sempre tutto ammodino. Ma ti avverto, non sono un angelo. Penso soprattutto di essere un po’ sbronzo. Ti amo. Adesso vado a letto - mi costa troppa fatica restare sveglio. Ti amo. Sono insaziabile. Ti chiederò di fare l’impossibile. Che cosa sia, non lo so. Probabilmente tu me lo dirai. Sei più svelta di me. Amo la tua fica, Anais - mi fa impazzire. E il modo con cui pronunci il mio nome! Buon Dio, è irreale. Senti, sono proprio sbronzo. Mi fa male essere qui solo. Ho bisogno di te. Posso dirti qualsiasi cosa? Posso, sì? Vieni al più presto e chiavami. Godi con me. Serrami tra le tue cosce, riscaldami.


Henry.

#storia di una passione #henry miller

[barrettaenergetica]

«Ma tutto, tutto, tutto, così come sarà darò ciuffo per ciuffo senza farvene un fascio. Vi amo, e mi ci tuffo, t'amo! Son pazzo, non ne posso più, è troppo! Ed il tuo nome in gola è un nodo, un cappio, un groppo. Di te io mi ricordo ogni fatto, tutto ho amato. Io so che un giorno, il dodici maggio l'anno passato, cambiasti, per uscire al mattin, pettinatura. Fu come un nuovo sole, la tua capigliatura. Ti è chiaro allora adesso? Infin lo vuoi capire? Senti l'anima mia nell'oscurità salire? Oh, è vero che stasera c'è un sogno intorno a noi. Io che vi dico questo, voi mi ascoltate, voi. Be', è troppo. Nella speranza più modesta mai ho sperato tanto. Per questo non mi resta null'altro che morire. È per i miei sussurri ch'ella trema furtiva lassù, tra i rami azzurri? Scende il tremor bramato dalla tua mano insino all'ultimo dei fili di questo gelsomino.»

- Cyrano de Bergerac (Edmond Rostand)

#cyrano de bergerac #letteratura #citazioni #libridaleggere #poetry #quotes #edgar allan poe #poesia #frasi di libri #books #poesie

[tulipanico]

*minchia oh, quanto cazzo mi manca la tua risata*

Pronto?! Vuoi mandarmi all'ospedale Elia? Sei pazzo

[omarfor-orchestra]

Buongiorno a tuttə tranne alla ragazza canadese/svedese non ho capito che segue il mio stesso corso con mr. Canada pazzo che alla domanda "oh there's an holiday on 25th April. Is that a good one?" rispose "meh"

#mi sta così sul cazzo quella ragazza regà #non avete idea

[canesenzafissadimora]

- Aveva qualcosa di speciale?

-- Tutto. C'è solo lui al mondo.

- Cioè?

-- Non c'è nessuno come lui...

- Dov'è adesso?

-- Non con me.

- Perché?

-- Lasci perdere...

- Non l'amava?

-- Oh sì che mi amava.

- E allora?

-- Abbiamo fatto un sacco di casino.

- Tipo?

-- Non capirebbe.

- Perché?

- Ha idea di cosa significhi

essere pazzo di qualcuno?

- Temo di no.

-- Ecco...

Alessandro Baricco

[diceriadelluntore]

Alle sette del mattino ho ricevuto un messaggio da lontano Agli antipodi c'è un'oasi In cui ci sono sogni che nascono ancora E l'estate ha parlato all'inverno Restituendo tutte parole incoraggianti E io ero pienamente riconoscente Che dei messaggi mutanti fossero stati ascoltati

Ho superato il mio sconforto e l'ho lasciato nel letto Lo lascio ancora lì a dormire O forse ancora meglio lo uccido? Perché questo non è il momento per la depressione O per l'esitazione autoindulgente Questa situazione incasinata richiede tutto l'aiuto possibile Tutti ai loro posti

La libertà è ciò che la libertà fa e la libertà è un verbo Danno e prendono e tu combatti per tenere quello che ti sei guadagnato Abbiamo visto la destinazione Ci siamo arrivati così vicino prima che cambiasse Nuota a lato di questa corrente e non farti scoraggiare

I sogni del proiettore se ne vanno alla deriva Tutte le vite che avremmo potuto avere Amori distanti che fluttuano in alto Chiudi questi occhi, hanno visto abbastanza

Ho catturato la farfalla Le ho spezzato le ali e poi l'ho messa in mostra Spogliata di tutta la sua bellezza Quando non ha più potuto volare in alto Ancora viva come un passante in overdose di raggi gamma Un'altra creatura di “Dio” destinata ad essere gettata via

Toro Seduto e Cavallo Pazzo hanno forgiato il Nord e l'Ovest Poi hai Stronzo Seduto come presidente in carica Che parla col suo specchio, cosa gli dice, cosa gli risponde? Una tragedia degli errori, chi sarà l'ultimo a farsi una risata?

I suoi giorni migliori sono andati, difficile da ammettere Sferrando pugni arrabbiati senza niente da colpire Pensieri luminosi erano tutto ciò che aveva un tempo Luci che svaniscono, l'eloquenza persa C'è ancora del fuoco nella sala macchine Sa che il soccorso arriverà presto

Cosa si può fare Tracciare un percorso per il regno dei fiumi C'è molto da fare Oceani che si alzano con le onde

Così, trattenute da questi pensieri Si rifiutano di scivolare via Oh, un boia nel mondo dei sogni Sta per chiamare il tuo nome

C'è molto da fare, molto C'è molto da fare, molto C'è molto da fare, molto C'è molto da fare

Pearl Jam, 7 O'Clock, Gigaton, 2020

#Youtube

[jaja-dingdong]

okay qui nico. la storia di come sono finito ad ascoltare paolo meneguzzi nell'anno 2023 è esilarante quindi ora la racconto nella tua askbox (anche se nessuno me l'ha chiesto). eravamo tutti a tavola a guardare il tg, dove hanno iniziato a parlare del caso orlandi, di cui io sinceramente non so molto anche perché manco ero nato, ma comunque parlano dello zio che a quanto pare si chiama mario meneguzzi... e qui io esclamo "OH! ma ve lo ricordate paolo meneguzzi???" (io mi ero totalmente dimenticato di lui) e la scena successiva è comica. mio padre: "mengoni????" io: "noooo che c'entra, paolo meneguzzi" lui: "mingardi?" niente, i miei pensavano me lo fossi inventato, anche perché non mi veniva in mente mezza canzone. a questo punto arriva in mio soccorso mio fratello, lo vedo tornare a tavola e gli urlo "TE LO RICORDI PAOLO MENEGUZZI???" finalmente qualcuno che mi dice di sì. (mio fratello ha una memoria di molto migliore della mia) allora nel casino generale che il tutto ha creato (secondo te ho sentito una parola del servizio del tg ?) chiedo a mio fratello di dirmi che cosa aveva fatto meneguzzi. lui mi risponde "musica" al che io ???????? SÌ MA CHE CANZONEEEEEE e a quel punto dico basta, mi alzo e corro a prendere il cellulare. cerco paolo meneguzzi e.... oh. la canzone si chiamava 'musica'. mi sento scemo, ma vabbè, torno a tavola e metto su la canzone, cercando di far stare zitti mio fratello e mio padre, mia madre appiccica l'orecchio al mio cell, un casino, il verdetto di mia madre è "non me la ricordo" e io MA COMEEEEEE no ma dai ma ha fatto questa e un altro paio di canzoni famose negli anni 2000 ve lo giurooooooo!!!! e dalla disperazione mi metto a canticchiare (stonato) (sorry) 'musica' e LÌ. LÌ MIA MADRE FA "AAAAAAAAAHHHH ma sì quella lì, me la ricordo" ALLELUIA GRAZIE GESÙ. e alla fine 2/3 hanno concordato con me che sì, paolo meneguzzi esiste, ma che fine ha fatto?, boh comunque non sono pazzo, visto??, va bene va bene. fine della storia. ogni tanto i momenti Maaaaa ti ricordi [insert hit degli anni 2000] ci vogliono

NICO STO MORENDO ASDJSJSJS 10/10 per la narrazione, impeccabile

Paolo Meneguzzi è assolutamente il classico tipo di musica improbabile che ti ritrovi ad ascoltare alle 2 di notte quando non riesci a dormire, in mezzo a una canzone di Camp Rock e i balli di gruppo del grest, per quella dose di nostalgia potente e immancabile (spero succeda anche a voi e non solo a me)

Classica persona della cui esistenza ti ricordi solo per quello o se qualcunə a tavola (o in macchina, perché ste cose succedono sempre a tavola o in macchina) se ne esce completamente random con il suo nome, e in quel caso la risposta ineluttabile sarà "MIIII COSA MI STAI RICORDANDO"

#comunque hai fatto più che bene a raccontare tutto qui nell'askbox aksnsks perché mi stai sbloccando dei ricordi #e li stai sicuramente anche sbloccando a QUALCUNO (non faccio username) che di fronte al suo nome ha una reazione pavloviana di schifo fissa #ask #nico tag

[eurovision-del]

Sanremo comes to an end tonight. I’ll confess, I haven’t been watching each night, but I have taken the time to check out all the competing songs, and here’s my ranking:

Mahmood – Tuta gold

Ricchi e Poveri – Ma non tutta la vita

Alfa – Vai!

La Sad – Autodistruttivo

Clara – Diamanti grezzi

Dargen D’Amico – Onda alta

Il Tre – Fragili

Annalisa – Sinceramente

Loredana Bertè – Pazza

BigMama – La rabbia non ti basta

Irama – Tu no

Sangiovanni – Finiscimi

The Kolors – Un ragazzo, una ragazza

Emma – Apnea

Fiorella Mannoia – Mariposa

Geolier – I’ p’ me, tu p’ te

Angelina Mango – La noia

Fred De Palma – Il cielo non ci vuole

Renga & Nek – Pazzo di te

Ghali – Casa mia

Maninni – Spettacolare

Diodato – Ti muovi

Mr. Rain – Due altalene

Bnkr44 – Governo punk

Il Volo – Capolavoro

Alessandra Amoroso – Fino a qui

Santi Francesi – L’amore in bocca

Rose Villain – Click Boom!

Gazzelle – Tutto qui

Negramaro – Ricominciamo tutto

Firstly, Mahmood was far and away my clear standout with Tuta gold. There’s something so effortlessly catchy about Mahmood’s style, and his distinct voice and charisma as a performer really set him apart for me. I like how it uses the little phone tone sound in the chorus as a hook and also to tie into the lyrics of the song. In fact, the song as a whole is really well produced, and I honestly want to listen to it over and over.

That said, there are still plenty of other great entries here. I found Ricchi e Poveri’s performance very memorable with them wrapped in the giant bow at the start, and the track itself is fun and exciting, and really benefits from the Sanremo orchestra, with all those violins going at the start. Vai! was another song I distinctly remembered after just one listen, with that little whoo-hoo and accompanying whistle making for a very catchy hook. I really enjoy the energy of the song and how uplifting it sounds. Autodistruttivo is a solid rock song, the ‘oh-ooh-oh’s might be a little generic but the overall punchy sound of the song is great, and I like La Sad’s distinctive look. I also really like Diamanti grezzi, it’s another song I think is really well produced, I especially like how the beat sounds in the pre-chorus.

If Mahmood hadn’t already been to Eurovision twice in the last past five years, he’d definitely be my pick to go. In fact, I like Tuta gold enough that I probably would be excited to see him in this year’s Eurovision too, but I’d also be very happy to see Italy send someone else for a change. As usual they’ve got plenty of options – I tended to prefer the upbeat, energetic songs over the ballads this year, but Italy will likely do well with just about any of these songs just thinking about Eurovision. Unfortunately I’m not going to be able to stay up tonight to find out the winner, but I am excited to find out tomorrow who they’re going to send!

#eurovision #esc2024 #nf ranking #Italy #I really wanted to get this out before UMK and Supernova started but hey this is how it goes #Sanremo is great but man it being all in one week does not leave you with much time to digest all the songs before the final #it doesn't help that it's 6 nations season #I spent the day watching rugby and while I had this ranking roughly outlined yesterday #I only finished it after the Wales v England match #I'm also very salty about the result of the Scotland v France match #so I'm hoping that the national finals tonight will raise my spirits a bit

[be-appy-71]

Ho incontrato Cupido.

Al parco mentre meditavo guardando

lo scorrere del Po.

- Oh cazzo ma te sei Cupido!!

-- Shhh non urlare, sei pazzo ?

- Immagino che ti stia cercando parecchia gente...

-- Così pare.

- Ora ti siedi e mi ascolti, altrimenti urlo chi sei!

-- Non fare stronzate, ti ascolto...

- Intanto vaffanculo!

-- Ci sta.

- Sì, ci sta!

E ora spiegami che cosa stai combinando

con ste frecce.

-- Pensi che la mia vita sia facile?

- Sicuro meglio della mia che non sono un Dio.

-- Avrei voluto essere il Dio della guerra,

ma mi hanno detto che farlo fare ad una donna sarebbe stato meglio, sono più bastarde.

- Ci sta.

-- Poi avrei voluto essere il Dio del mare,

ma non avevo il fisico di Nettuno.

- Si in effetti tenere quel tritone non deve

essere semplice.

-- Avrei voluto essere il Dio del vino,

ma sono minorenne.

- Anche sull'Olimpo si è minorenni?

-- No, ma io lavorando sulla terra, devo attenermi alle vostre regole.

- Cavolo, che sfiga che hai Cupido, non te la passi benissimo!

-- Già... Mi hanno fatto fare sta cazzata

di far innamorare la gente.

Che poi, detta tra noi, non mi riesce

neanche bene, non funziona.

- Come non funziona ?

-- Avrò sparato centinaia di frecce per farti innamorare, di altrettante centinaia di donne,

ma te ti sei fissato con quella.

- Mi stai dicendo che io la amo

contro il volere degli Dei?

-- Già. Ho chiesto a Zeus come sia possibile e sai cosa mi ha risposto ?

- Cosa ?

-- Che non posso farci nulla,

che l’amore non lo insegnano gli Dei,

che ci sono uomini e donne

che per qualche strano motivo

si amano contro ogni cosa,

contro anche il volere degli Dei.

- E io lei siamo tra questi?

-- E tu e lei siete tra questi...♠️🔥

(Emanuele Piccinino)

[alle00]

Oh, è difficile trovare la traccia divina in mezzo alla vita che facciamo, in questo tempo così soddisfatto, così borghese, così privo di spirito, alla vista di queste architetture, di questi negozi, di questa politica, di questi uomini! Come potrei non essere un lupo della steppa, un sordido anacoreta in un mondo del quale non condivido alcuna meta, delle cui gioie non vi è alcuna che mi arrida? Non resisto a lungo né in un teatro né in un cinema, non riesco quasi a leggere il giornale, leggo raramente un libro moderno, non capisco quale piacere vadano a cercare gli uomini nelle ferrovie affollate e negli alberghi, nei caftè zeppi dove si suonano musiche asfissianti e invadenti, nei bar e nei teatri di varietà delle eleganti città di lusso, nelle esposizioni mondiali, alle conferenze dei desiderosi di cultura, nei grandi campi sportivi: non posso condividere, non posso comprendere queste gioie che potrei avere a portata di mano e che mille altri si sforzano di raggiungere. Ciò che invece mi accade nelle rare ore di gioia, ciò che per me è delizia, estasi ed elevazione, il mondo lo conosce e cerca e ama tutt'al più nella poesia: nella vita gli sembrano pazzie. Infatti se il mondo ha ragione, se hanno ragione le musiche nei caffè, i divertimenti in massa, la gente americana che si contenta di così poco, vuol dire che ho torto io, che sono io il pazzo, il vero lupo della steppa, come mi chiamai più volte, l'animale sperduto in un mondo a lui estraneo e incomprensibile, che non trova più la patria, l'aria, il nutrimento.

Hermann Hesse, Il lupo della steppa

#letteratura