Latest Posts by jasmineslonghair - Page 4

@earthlingoddity happy birthday to my favorite person on this planet. i have birthday kisses in overflow for you 🤍

Yes officer it's them, these are the idiots who stole my heart

a lil nod and a blissed out face

a head toss and clinging to a shirt

(Gif cred: ijzermansdriesen)

I'm soft 🤧

sobbe + “in my reflection zone” t-shirt

Eliott: had sex with Lucas in the studio, being stained with paint.

Niccolo: gave Marti a blowjob as soon as he entered the house.

Sander: fell out of bed while unbuckling a shoe.

👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏FUCKING 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 👏👏👏LEGEND 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

nico + questionable flirting choices

Mom and Dad

Giovanni and Elia + exchanging looks

Softies

🥺 Awww Sander being so Soft with Robbe..🥰 How did i miss seeing Sander's cute smile at the end 😚 My HEART can't take it ❤ I miss them so so much 😔

I miss them, I love them, I want them back

I want to breathe you in like your vapour

I want to be the one you remember

I want to feel your love like the weather

All over me, all over me...

Hello

credits: @timmybatch on twitter

robbe ijzermans and sander driesen in 2021

Sankt Milo

Leave a tip! (Ko-Fi) | Etsy Shop | Twitter

Currently crying

dinsdag 7:27

parallel: when you can’t help but “falling” in love

“You text too much,” Filippo murmured, head tilting back for Elia’s mouth on his neck, working his way down, Elia’s hand sliding under the collar of his shirt.

The corner they’d chosen was dark, a table shoved in a back of the bar for this specific purpose as glasses clinked around them and people laughed at things Filippo couldn’t hear.

“Since when?” Elia asked, not sounding too concerned. His fingers slid over Filippo’s chest and if Filippo had seen any other couple doing this, he might have rolled his eyes. That was the thing about Elia, though. He didn’t mind shit like this when it was Elia.

“Since Eleonora is getting suspicious.”

“You text more than I do,” Elia argued, mouthing among Filippo’s jaw. “You sent seven texts in a row the other day.”

“I was trying to pick a shirt and you were absolutely no help at all.”

It was Elia’s fault anyway, that he was sending so many texts, keeping him ‘glued to the phone’ as Eleonora had said. Filippo had left Eleonora at the flat after Elia’s text had popped up on his screen, her suspicious gaze following him out the door, her parting, “If I didn’t know you, I might think you were in love,” echoing in his head all the way down the stairs. He knew his sister and she wasn’t stupid–she’d figure it out eventually. He wouldn’t be able to brush her off forever, especially not to meet up with Elia at a gay bar and makeout in the corner.

Elia pulled back to look at him, his eyes dark and warm as he smiled at Filippo, his hand that wasn’t down Filippo’s shirt pushing through the short hairs at the back of his neck.

“I told you you look good in everything.”

It was a bald-faced lie and Filippo rolled his eyes. “Even the mesh shirt?”

“Especially the mesh shirt,” Elia replied, pulling Filippo’s mouth to his for a long, lingering kiss that almost made Filippo groan, hands grasping Elia’s waist.

It just wasn’t fair what Elia could get him to do, without even asking. Elia has simply appeared one day, tumbled into Filippo’s life and stayed there. And now he had Eleonora asking about boys and saying shit about being in love.

An unexpected thrill ran through Filippo’s stomach when Elia pulled back, his mouth curved into a smile, something warmer and softer between them as they sat too close in the back booth. He’d told Eleonora that there were plenty of guys, but the truth was, there was just one, and he was leaning into Filippo right now, as though all he wanted to do was kiss him.

It had been like this for weeks, Filippo giving in to Elia’s easy charm, them meeting up in secret places they knew their friends wouldn’t be, late-night phone conversations about everything and nothing at the same time. He hated to think that Eleonora was right, but maybe, maybe it was love.

Filippo shook that thought from his head as Elia pressed a kiss to his chin, hand sliding to Filippo’s neck. It was way too soon to be thinking about things like love, especially with Elia, no matter how cute he was, how much Filippo liked being around him. That was crazy.

But maybe there was something else they could think about.

“Elia,” he said after a minute, laying a hand against his throat, gentle, holding him back from pressing more kisses to his jaw. “How about we go to my place?”

Elia’s eyebrows went up as his gaze moved from Filippo’s mouth to his eyes. “Isn’t Eleonora home?”

Filippo shrugged, as though he didn’t know what he was implying, as though they hadn’t spent the last few weeks diligently avoiding arousing suspicion with their family and friends.

“So?” he asked, and Elia stared at him for a moment, big eyes rounded before a smile spread over his face.

“So,” he said finally, shrugging, pulling Filippo’s mouth to his, slow and warm, tugging on his lip piercing. “Let’s go.”

Grinning, Filippo didn’t get up, instead pulling Elia closer, kissing him easily. They’d go in a minute.

Literally my sister and I in a nutshell

Filippo: Vegetable oil is made from vegetables, coconut oil is made from coconut, so baby oil-

Eleonora: Can’t we just have a nice family dinner for once?

Filippo: Are you ashamed of me?

Eleonora: A little bit.

You know thinking about it now, I 100% agree

the funniest thing about the remakes for me is that there’s no chance in hell that isak, lucas and marti would stand each other

on the other hand… even, eliott and nico would die for each other

At night, Elia dreams of Filippo.

It’s weird, because he’s been obsessed with girls before, absolutely, so it’s not like infatuation is a new thing for him. But never has Elia dreamt with such vivid clarity and an undertone of such desperate want, longing, for someone before.

He dreams of lean abs painted like a statue of ancient Rome. He dreams of corded muscles tensing and relaxing as long fingers flick the end of a cigarette. He dreams of bleached curls and dark eye lashes; of freckles like constellations on smooth tan skin. 

He dreams of gasps and moans and whispers of “please” and “more” and “god don’t stop.” He dreams of soothing touches and bruise-educing grips; of laughter and the morning sunlight gleaming off of espresso eyes still hazy from a night of pleasure and sleep.

But Elia doesn’t dream reality. 

He doesn’t dream the careful way in which his eyes never fail to look out for Filippo across a rooftop party composed of mutual friends. He doesn’t dream of their eyes meeting and holding for an eternity, only for Filippo’s to eventually trail away when the disappointment that Elia can’t quite bring himself to make the first move after their night together weeks ago sets in. He doesn’t dream of Marti’s considering looks, or Gio’s pursed lips, or the way Luca seems oblivious to it all. 

(It’s not the boy thing, guys, it’s not that. I’m not ashamed, it’s just complicated.)

He doesn’t dream of his father slamming a Bible down at the dinner table in front of him, repeating over and over that the Santini family are good Catholics, great ones, and that good Catholic boys marry good Catholic girls and that there are no exceptions. 

It wouldn’t be hard to be a good Catholic boy. Elia likes girls without trying; he likes curves and giggles and the smell of perfume. 

But more than he likes girls right now, Elia likes Filippo.

Elia wants Filippo.

And Elia is nothing if not selfish.

So he looks up at the dark ceiling, watching the way shadows flicker as cars pass by. Then he glances towards his bedside table.

02:43

To Filippo Sava: can I come over?

“You’re not alone”

Maybe you could write a fic where marti, nico, Eva and ele realized filo check out Elia

It’s when the boy’s figure has full disappeared along with his friend around a corner that Filippo plops his chin on his palm and shows off his most winning smile.

“You know, I’m beginning to think that maybe Elia and Sivia won’t be a good match after all.”

Eva looks up from her phone, “What? Why?”

Nico, on the other side of the table, cocks a single eyebrow up and all at once, his gaze flicks to the space Elia had occupied and disappeared from. There’s a thump from under the table, and Marti jerks in place, throwing a wild look to his boyfriend. Filippo blinks at Nico’s serene expression.

Whatever. Nico always was an odd one.

Filippo shrugs and turns his attention back to Eva, “Seems wrong to torment the kid with a girl he doesn’t even like.”

And it seemed right to keep the kid uninvolved with anyone until Filippo could properly formulate a plan to introduce himself.

Eva sets her phone flat on the table. “So it has nothing to do with the fact you’re into him?”

“Into him? Me?”

“Oh so you wouldn’t fuck Elia?” Ele chimes in with all the smugness that only a baby sister watching her brother squirm could muster.

Marti holds up a hand, “Wait. Wait what?”

“Filippo is into Elia and is now trying to sabotage my plan.” Eva points at Filippo, “Elia is straight.”

An easy, carefree counter, “So was Marti until he met Nico.”

Marti’s outraged, “Excuse me?”

“Well that’s not true. Haven’t you met Giovanni Garau?”

Nico’s eyebrows raise further, “Wait, what?”

Filippo bows his head a this clusterfuck of a conversation, “Fuck me. Nevermind, set him up with the blonde harpy all you want.” Filippo slides his phone out of his back pocket and checks the time, “I’ll get to him first. Martinico, my boys, where are you guys playing with Elia and the small boy? I think I’ll join in for a bit.”

so like while everyone is ignoring robbe he’s out here soft pranking his best friend by replacing part of the oreo icing with toothpaste and then watching him eat it

I was wondering if you were gonna still post the continuation of that Elippo fic ? No pressure / not trying to rush , just wanna make sure I don’t miss it if you’re still planning on posting it

I know! We had some minor delays on account of studying and life, but here go with the continuation of THIS ELIPPO FIC.

——-

Filippo feels…

Well Filippo doesn’t really know if he’s felt much of anything recently. 

The first week– when Elia left him alone in his apartment with a half-eaten, meticulously chosen meal and a half-empty bottle of wine– is kind of a blur. 

He and Elia had been apart for longer than a week when they were whatever. Granted, not much recently, but one week wasn’t such a stress. But then the next week hit and Filippo just felt weird. Like he’d see something in the park or hear a funny joke and his thumb would immediately flit to Elia’s contact icon to…

To what? Tell him? Let him know that he was thinking about him? To want to share bits of his day with him?

Whatever it was, he couldn’t do that anymore. Which was… whatever. It was fine– it was–it was Elia’s choice because he wanted more than Filippo was willing to give.

It was fine. 

Keep reading

📂📂📂📂idc what u write about i just want some elippo angst !! cause i love being in pain!

The first time Elia and Filippo break up, it’s about ten months into their.. whatever. The whatever is because Filippo absolutely refuses to label what they have as a relationship or a friendship or even a hookup-manship. Elia exists solely as his… well as Elia. And he’s content with the whatever it is, as it stands. No rules, no exclusivity, nothing to add weight to the idea of permanence, of ownership. He’s perfectly content to ride out their intense connection for as long as they can as is.

Elia thought he was fine with that for a long time. He was delighted that he could have Filippo whenever he wanted, but also felt no pressure to refrain from experimenting, to see and flirt and kiss pretty girls and pretty boys whenever he wanted. It also didn’t hurt that often he and Filippo were in it together, pointing out pretty young things for the other to seduce. A sort of modern romantic game.

But then the weeks and months pass, and Elia is now spending more time in Filippo’s bed than his own. His phone is now full of silly pictures of Filippo and texts to Filippo and texts about Filippo and well-

Elia is tired of this nebulous thing. 

It’s easy to him. He wants Filippo and he hasn’t wanted anyone else for a long time. (To be quite honest, he doesn’t think that he’s ever really wanted anyone else since meeting him.)

So he begins to broach the topic of a real, real relationship. First as a joke when they’re both drunk off their asses and climbing each other on the bed (”just think, this could be yours and only yours… what do you say?”) The next time is over a random text conversation (”I was thinking we could do like a couples vacation with Martinico?”) 

Finally, Elia brings out the big guns. He dresses nicely and cooks a good dinner with all of Filippo’s favorite things (things he knows because believe it or not, he knows almost everything about Filippo and he knows Filippo knows all of this about him too). He opens wine and lets is breathe and greets a wary Filippo with a kiss when he walks through the door.

It takes almost every ounce of courage in Elia to do it. To air all of his wants and dreams and hopes for them as a couple on the table. To look intimidating, strong Filippo in the eye and know that he might be costing himself the greatest relationship he’s ever had. But he does it because he knows that they could be so much more than they are. The same, but stronger. Better. 

So he lays it all out. 

And Filippo remains silent. Wine glass clenched in his hands, coffee-brown eyes averted. When he finally does speak, his voice is hoarse and simple, “I can’t… I can’t do this. We work just how we are. Don’t complicate things. Please, Elia. Just leave it alone.”

Elia thinks he can hear his heart actually break. He wonders if Filippo can hear it too. 

But the thing is, he loves Filippo more than he ever thought he could love anyone, but he also knows that he can’t do this anymore. He can’t bask in this relationship, immerse himself in this love, if Filippo already had one foot out the door.

So Elia sniffs, and gently gets up from the table and walks out the door. 

Request: Can you write an Elippo fic where Elia is in Filippo’s room and he doesn’t know the song (last clip) and Filippo was like HOW DARE YOU NOT KNOW RAP FUTURISTICO and so he start playing it out loud and sing it to Elia doing dumb moves and at “tranne te” part screaming at his face and then kiss him like the Patatine e Marmellata clip?

Keep reading

Please I cannot take this 🥺

i contrabbandieri being lovable dumbasses in season 4

Can someone recommend some really good elippo fanfic I've dug myself a deep tumblr hole and I don't think I'll ever leave it 😅

(I did not mean to do this but as soon as I drew the background, I knew they were outside. And @belledamsceno made that post about the lake...)

—

A cool breeze swept off the lake, and Filippo shivered, more at Elia’s fingers scraping over his side as he dragged Filippo’s shirt up his stomach.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when you invited me to the lake with the boys,” Filippo murmured, tilting his head to brush his lips against Elia’s, gazing down at the beautiful boy beneath him, cheeks flushed pink in the early morning sun, a hickey still visible on Elia’s neck from last night.

Filippo hadn’t expected to find himself outside as the sun rose over the lake, tree leaves dappling the ground as the breeze rustled through the branches. He would have preferred a soft, warm bed, but those appeared to be few and far between at Gio’s aunt’s cabin.

Elia smiled up at him, fingers curling around Filippo’s neck. “I wanted to get you alone before everyone else gets up.”

“If we had the bed…” Filippo said, but he knew it was pointless.

“I didn’t know Gio was going to bring Sofia,” Elia murmured, pressing soft kisses to Filippo’s neck, in just the right way that Filippo felt himself melting at the touch.

“But you did know Marti was going to bring Nico,” he replied, breathing in the scent of soap lingering on Elia’s skin. It didn’t really matter. Either way, he and Elia’s chances at getting the bed had been slim to none.

Truth be told, as much as Filippo would bring this up later, he didn’t really mind sleeping on the couch, being roused at God knew what time so Elia could drag him out to the shoreline, pushing Elia into the grass and greeting him with long, sweeping kisses while Elia laughed and his cheeks went red.

Ella’s eyes were closed as Filippo gazed down at him, a soft smile on his face like he was waiting for Filippo to kiss him, and Filippo didn’t deny him.

He should have hated it, Filippo thought as he leaned into Elia, chest to chest, their bodies warm despite the breeze, his hand curled in Elia’s hair. Elia’s lips were soft, following the slide of Filippo’s. He should have hated being outside this early in the morning, having to watch the boys play FIFA for hours, watching Martino gaze lovingly at Nico every time he said anything.

He should have found it all profoundly irritating, but he didn’t. He liked waking up to Elia in his face, tugging him up, barely enough time to throw on a tee shirt before stumbling out the door. He liked the way Elia leaned into him on the couch while Luca complained about Gio outscoring him, Elia’s hand warm on his thigh. He liked catching Elia sometimes, giving him that same look that Marti gave Nico, though Elia would never admit to it.

“What?” Elia asked when Filippo paused, smoothing back Elia‘s hair.

Shaking his head, Filippo smiled. “There’s a little inn in town. Maybe next time we come up here with the boys, you and I can get a room.”

Elia grinned, eyes lighting up. “How romantic.” He said it teasingly, but Filippo was fairly sure Elia’s cheeks went a little redder at the thought.

“I’m very romantic,” Filippo assured him, kissing Elia slowly, sliding his tongue inside his mouth, fingers tightening in Elia’s hair until Elia moaned and arched into him, fingers bunched in Filippo’s hem.

“Fuck,” Elia mumbled against Filippo’s lips, taking a breath before sighing contentedly, breaking apart for just a second, foreheads resting together as the leaves overhead rustled gently.

Filippo should have hated this, this romantic, making out in the dewy morning grass, gazing at Elia’s parted pink lips, heart-thudding kind of stuff. The kind of stuff he would never have thought possible with someone like Elia.

But he didn’t. He might even be content to lay with Elia outside in the chill morning breeze until the sun fully rose, until Elia’s skin was pink for a different reason other than Filippo laying on top of him.

“Do you think the guys are up?” Elia asked after a long minute, the only noises the rustle of the leaves, water lapping at the shore, and the distant twitter of a bird somewhere.

“Maybe,” he allowed, but he didn’t care about the guys. Not right now. Instead, he tilted Elia’s chin to his, catching Elia’s smile. “They’ll find us eventually.”

“Then we should stay right here,” Elia agreed, nodding against Filippo’s lips, and Filippo merely smiled, kissing Elia easily. They’d stay right there.

Skam Italia - To Build A Home “Once you wrote in a paper that everyone of us is convinced to move towards the sky, without…