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its-not-that-weird-blog · 1 year

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"Seriously?!"

Paul Aron x Driver!Reader

Summary: Prema wanted their drivers to have a nice and relaxing weekend before the season starts, but they paired the roomates for the vacation...who's rooming with Paul?!

Warnings: A little bit of angst, fluff, and google translate Italian

The 2023 season is coming up and Prema has a completely new driver lineup for both Formula 2 and Formula 3.

René being René, decided that taking their drivers for a little get away before the season starts was a great idea, so they went to Amalfi Coast, a little chilly but still beautiful during the winter.

Angelina was the one encharged to make the rooming situation, considering who needs more bonding than others, but seeing that Dino decided to take his girlfriend to bond with his friends as well, the decision was made:

Room 1: Ollie and Fred

Room 2: Dino and Elvira

Room 3: Paul and Y/N

Angelina knows that Paul and Y/N have always had a strained relationship, having been rivals since karting, so that was her masterplan, not only that, but she had shipped those two since they first stepped in the Prema factory back when they started single-seaters.

Going all the way back to 2018, where the real rivalry started, Paul and Y/N were competing in the CIK-FIA championship, throughout the whole season, it was a constant battle between both kids, in the end, Paul ended up winning the championship.

When 2019 rolled around, both kids were surprised to see that Prema had signed a contract with the two of them, even though it was well known that they were rivals, not only on track, but off track too. This took their rivalry to the next level, fighting for the F4 championship, especially the rookie championship…Paul ended up winning, like always.

2020 rolled around, surprisingly, the one that had a seat in Formula Regional was Y/N, not Paul. He sadly didn’t find any seats available for Frec, so he went to formula renault.

This little battle continued. 2021 for FRECA, both were teammates again, though that year, Y/N ended up winning the championship and went to be teammates with Arthur and Ollie in F3 and Paul repeated FRECA alongside Dino. Now in the present, Dino, Paul and Y/N are back being in the same team.

The tension grew so much that Angelina wanted it to end, because they needed a good year for the Formula 3 team. So she put her plan in action. She passed this idea through René first and of course he was beaming with glee. He needed those two to get along.

When everyone got to the hotel, the roommates were announced. Everyone was trying to hold in their giggles when they saw Paul and Y/N’s faces.

“Angelina, this has to be a joke, right?” Y/N said, “I thought you said that , well besides Dino, the ones that shared an academy were going to share!”

“Yeah! Angelina, it should be me and Fred and Ollie with Y/N” Paul said while aggravatedly running his fingers through his hair.

“Guys, we need you to get along, please!” René pleaded, “I know teammates don’t have to be best friends, but at least be civil with each other” He finishes

Y/N and Paul sighed and followed everyone to the elevator. They were glaring at each other, Y/N was thinking of ways to be apart throughout the whole trip, she was planning on doing everything with Ollie, who was her best friend, and just go back to the room to sleep. Paul on the other hand was thinking of spending time with both Fred and Dino, mostly with Fred though, because he didn’t want to interrupt the time Dino and his girlfriend would have together.

Funny thing is that underneath all that hatred between Paul and Y/N, everyone knows that they actually have a thing for each other. Except the two idiots in question.

Y/N is a completely hopeless romantic, but never gives love a try because she is terrified that no one will get used to her hectic schedule and just overall, to her hectic life. She started to feel something for Paul when she saw all her friends starting to get into relationships, not because of the FOMO, but because she spent most of her time with him, and even though they would bicker most of the time, Y/N would imagine what it would be like dating Paul.

For Paul, it is a whole different story. He never lacked the attention of girls, he had plenty, but he felt a weird connection with Y/N ever since they met. As a dumb kid, he started to annoy Y/N to get her attention, but it backfired on him when, during karting years, he accidentally took Y/N out of the track, getting p1. After the race, he went up to Y/N to make a lighthearted joke, but for very obvious reasons, Y/N was absolutely mad and upset at Paul, and everything went downhill for their relationship.

Both, being the stubborn teens they are, refused to acknowledge their feeling for eachother, so they decided to cover it up with “hatred”. It was easier that way, but not when they have to spend so much time together. Being teammates sometimes sucked.

Once they arrived at their respective rooms, Paul and Y/N were stunned when they saw just one bed in the room.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” Both said at the same time.

“I could always sleep on the floor, Y/N” Paul sighed and looked at Y/N, “Take the bed” He said with a soft tone.

Paul was fed up with the fights between him and Y/N, so he will take the opportunity of fixing his relationship with her. No matter how much it costs, he will fix it.

“We can share” Y/N mumbled, “Choose your side of the bed, I will go out to explore with Ollie for a while” She finished, leaving her luggage close to the closet and left the room.

Paul felt almost defeated. Key word being almost. He was sometimes jealous about Y/N’s friendship with Ollie. He had nothing against that nice british kid, but seeing them hang out almost everyday was upsetting. He knew that those two were close due to them being in the same academy, and being teammates last year.

Y/N on the other hand, couldn’t stand the thought of Paul hating her, so that’s why she mostly hung out with Ollie, Arthur and Dino. But mainly Ollie, they bonded over being to young kids in Formula 3, trying to meet everyone’s expectations. For Y/N, Ollie has been the only person to actually know about her true feelings towards Paul, he always gave her advice about what she could do with Paul, but funny enough, she was terrified. Y/N was more scared to show her true feelings than driving a car at 100 mph.

The whole team wanted Y/N and Paul to notice that both are just overthinking everything, and just start kind of fresh, for them to be friends or even something more.

••••••••••••••• •••••••••••••••

It was around 7pm, everyone was supposed to meet at the lobby at 8 so they could go and have dinner.

Paul was trying to ignore the presence of Y/N until he could really know what he wanted to do about their relationship, but it was hard to ignore it when all he could hear was the angelic (at least that’s what he thought) voice of Y/N. She was softly singing Vienna by Billy Joel. Paul knew that Y/N loves that song.

Paul, in small worlds, was delighted. He was delighted by every single little thing about his new teammate. He was in too deep, he knew, and was okay with it.

Y/N could feel Paul’s eyes staring at her and it was making her feel happy and confused. Was it that she was ugly? Is that why he is staring? She was trying not to overthink it more than she already does.

When Y/N finished her makeup, she left the bathroom and went to the bed to put on her shoes, and once again, she felt Paul’s gaze in her.

“Hey, are you okay? Do I have something in my face for you to be staring at?” Y/N finally asked with a slight humor in her voice.

“No, not at all. You just look beautiful” Paul said truthfully, looking into Y/N eyes.

“Oh, um, thanks” She said blushing and staring back into Paul’s beautiful eyes, “You don’t look too bad yourself” She finished, focusing on her heels to pretend that it wasn’t a big deal.

Paul smiled at Y/N, even though she couldn’t see it. He was beaming with joy at the thought that they were kind of fixing things, but he still had a long way to go with their funny dynamic.

“We should start heading down, everyone might be there already” Paul voiced to Y/N. She just nodded and grabbed her bag.

Both made their way to the elevator, Paul behind Y/N like a bodyguard. Once they got to the lobby, they didn’t see anyone on the team, so they just decided to go to the restaurant.

“The reservation is under René’s name, right?” Y/N asked and Paul nodded in agreement.

“Ciao, posso aiutarti?” A nice lady asked (Hello, may I help you)

“Ciao, si” Y/N said in a slight broken italian, “Abbiamo una prenotazione a nome René Rosin” She confidently said (Hi, yes. We have a reservation under the name René Rosin)

“Ok, seguimi per favore” The lady said. Both kids followed her and came to a halt when they saw that the table was for two, “Ecco il tuo tavolo, torna subito con i menu” And she left. (Okay, follow me please. Here is your table, be right back with the menus).

Both kids looked at each other in confusion. They sat down and Y/N texted Angelina.

“Angelina just told me that we have to stay here and talk everything out” Y/N huffed out, “I think everyone wants us to fix our relationship” She softly spoked.

Y/N hesitated before gazing up at Paul. He had a shy smile on and waited for a little before starting to talk.

“You know, I never hated you” Paul said with confidence but at the same time, in a hushed voice, “I’ve always liked you, as a person and as a driver. I always find ways to annoy you so I could get your attention” He said with truth gleaming on his eyes, “I never wanted you to hate me, but in my dumb kid head, I thought that it was the only way you could actually notice me” He stopped for a brief moment, “I really like you, as more than just a person and a driver. I’ve always wanted you by my side, when I had a good or a bad race, the only thing going on in my mind was you” He finished.

Y/N was shocked. She never thought that Paul could be slightly interested in her, never. She always saw the attention he got from other girls and was terrified to compete against them.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Paul asked, “I shouldn’t have said any of that, goddammit, I scared you, didn’t I?” He frantically let out.

Y/N looked at him, and saw that his eyes were telling nothing but the truth. She was just speechless because of how happy she felt.

Paul stood up from the table and was about to leave, but Y/N stopped him immediately by his wrist.

“Paul, sit down” He looked puzzled at Y/N, “Please” She said softly. He obliged and eventually sat down with his head hanging low, “I really like you too. More than a person and a driver, my eyes have always been just for you” She quietly stated.

“Seriously?!” Paul asked, raising his head up to see Y/N smiling sweetly at him and nodding.

“Yup, I just followed your game because I literally thought you hated me” She giggled at Paul’s face.

“Well, now you know that I feel everything but hatred for you” Paul laughed and couldn’t resist to press a kiss to Y/N’s lips, “That was just the beginning sweetheart” He goofily smiled at the girl he had heart eyes since he was a pre teen.

“Yeah…I guess we have to thank everyone for setting this up” Y/N pecked Paul on his lips and thought that it was the beginning to a very long story.

••••••••••••••• •••••••••••••••

Thank you all for the support on the last one shot, hope you enjoyed this one just as much <3

#paul aron #fia f3 #prema racing #f3 #formula 3 #formula 1 #formula one #paul aron imagine #formula 1 imagine #paul aron x reader

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pascallatte · 1 year

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Precious Gem

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: It’s Pedro’s day, so why not post something for your man

Date: April 2019

Warnings: none really.

Taglist: @benonlinear, @t-stark35, @heyitsme-2, @elleeeee21, @holmesstrange, @tagakalat, @flyestvenustrap, @oldermenaremyreligion, @cherryred444, @avengersheart, @guacala, @pukka-latte, @hobiismyhopeu, @lilvampirina

A/n: This is in honour of Pedro’s 48th birthday, which I wasn’t able to celebrate. So here is a very late sweet fic for our precious Pedro!!! also some snippets of their everyday shenanigans. Surprise surprise. I also didn't want to keep this for too long so here you are. Will still be posting on schedule, don't worry. Happy reading everyone!!!

Dedicating a photo or video for your loved one’s birthday isn’t new for you. And now that you were free to post whatever since your secret went out a year ago, nothing’s holding you back from letting the world know how much you appreciate your man.

Like your other posts, this one started with a photo. Something quite close to your heart because of the memories you made, along this trip, just after three years since you started dating. This is just you and him on your third trip to the Amalfi Coast, the place that started your story.

The photo was a two-part collage. Your camera was set on a timer on a tripod near the bed, as Pedro stood waiting near the door of the room’s balcony. You were wearing a matching set; a white dress for you and a button-up for him. Adjusting the settings a little, you quickly pulled Pedro to you.

“Come on, it’s on a timer now,” you said quickly holding onto him as you both smile for the camera, he placed his hand on your lower back when you leaned your head on his chest. However, you stood in this position for far too long than expected, which made you tilt your head, eyebrow-raising as the both of you lean into the camera. And just as quickly, the camera flashed on your faces capturing your reactions. Your faces near the camera, confusion and a hint of annoyance in your expression, as you failed to take a proper on for the nth time. You looked funny if that would make the mood brighten up.

Staring at each other for a good minute, Pedro shakes his head as he pats your cheeks kissing your forehead— before going back to his original position near the balcony’s door. “Let’s just try again, hopefully, we can get this right. We’ve been at this for half an hour,” he said leaning on the door and watching your every move.

“Yeah well, I know you love it.”

Shrugging his shoulders, “Ha no I don’t, I love you though,” he said nonchalantly making you look at him. Chuckling softly, face warming a bit, “Smooth one Pedro, smooth one,” you said flattening your dress as you walk towards his waiting arms.

Hugging him, you look up at him before pecking the tip of his nose, whispering a small “love you too.” Your smile was reciprocated just in time for the camera’s timer to end. Capturing a very candid photo of the two of you just looking at each other with the fondest looks on your faces.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅────────•───────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Now the video. The video is a goofy yet wholesome one. It was late at night when you decided to declutter some things from your vanity. And there in the deepest ends of your top drawer was an untouched box of fake lashes. So with both just not having anything to do, you decided to do what you normally do on this type of night… bother him.

It started with an “oof” coming from you as the phone face-planted to the carpet of your room. Setting it up, Pedro was seen sitting on the bed, being as patient as he can while he was laughing his ass off. A noticeable thing though was the lash already sticking to his left eye.

Once the phone was steady, you turned back to your chuckling self, sitting in front of him as you glued up the next lash. Pedro placed his hands on your thighs as he laughed about having huge-ass caterpillars on his face.

“For some reason, I am loving your caterpillar things, it would make a good moustache don’t you think?” His laughs shook the bed making you hold unto his shoulder to steady him.

“Amor, just hold still for a second,” you said, trying to hold in your laughter as you slowly stick the other lash on him. Tilting his head up a bit to fix it, his hands moved from your thighs to your waist fisting the jacket you're wearing, to keep himself steady.

He looks at you the best he can, “Will I look sexy, when you finish putting that on?” His genuine question made you burst out in laughter and you thank the gods that you’d finished putting the lashes on since you practically fell on him, hand placed on the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

Calming yourself down a bit, you turned to look at him taking his jaws in your hands to make him look at you. “You’re already sexy, the lashes just added some oomph to you,” you joked before laughing again, this time falling on your back. He just stared at your laid out form on the bed, before saying that he wanted to see how he looks.

He takes the phone you’ve set up and focuses it on his face. “Damn,” he laughs,” don’t I look good, ducky.”

“These caterpillars do know how to make themselves known,” fluttering his eyelashes as he made kissy faces for the video. Your laughing in the background only heightened at his skit.

“What?” He teased you, “ what’s so funny? I thought I was sexy?” Walking back to the bed, throwing himself on top of your form, which was now out of breath, hand holding your stomach to ease the pain caused by your intense laughter.

“I haven’t seen you wearing this though?”

Looking at him, still letting out small laughs, “It’s because I don’t wear it, it was given as a gift and yeah.”

“Yeah well, it’s mine now. Thank you very much,” making his iconic eyebrows raise look as he moved the camera closer to his face.

You just stayed silent watching as he blabbered on things bout how it wasn’t that heavy and how he doesn’t get why people would wear caterpillars on their eyes. Explaining it to him was not easy for a person as curious as Pedro, so you just told him it was for when you wanted to look more fashionable but it depended on the event.

“I see, well now that I’m fashionable. It’s time to-” He rests his head on your stomach as the video blacks out, giggling still heard.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅────────•───────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The post and the short caption that came with it is something that really made people, mostly those not-so-fans of yours, see how genuine your relationship is to him and not a fad like how some would describe it. This is sort of a slap on the bum to those who had doubted you guys in the first place, Something that made the longtime fans' strengthen their support and made the not-so's have second thoughts.

“Hello Pedro, shocking to see that it’s already been a year since we last did this, time really does fly when you’re having fun. You have been a very important person in my life for the past years now and I hope to give back every piece of the best memories you’ve given me so far. And to not make this too complicated, I just want to wish you the Happiest Birthday again, and that you achieve everything you want and need in the years to come. Read my surprise for the rest.😉

Once again, Happiest Birthday mi Pedrito, my precious gem and amor. Mi cielo te amo!! xxx”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x actress!reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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cinemastyles-backup · 7 months

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Golden

Summary: Harry invites y/n to where they're filming his Golden music video and things get steamy

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, semi public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, fluffy filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

HS1 HARRY

I look around, still in the most absolute awe about where Harry brought me.

Amalfi Coast in Italy.

It's absolutely beautiful, but I gotta say, there's just one things that absolutely tops it.

And that's Harry.

I rest my chin in my hands as I watch Harry lean up against some rocks for some photos. His arms are crossed and he's wearing this adorable yellow hat with floral print pants.

He looks amazing. Tanned and tattooed. The sun gleaming on him at just the right angles, fuck.

He gets me so turned on without even trying, and he knows it too.

He glances over at me and smirks slightly. He gives me a thumbs up and tilts his head. I nod and smile, giving him a thumbs up back.

He smiles and goes back to looking at the camera, glancing over at me every once and a while.

Eventually, they wrap up the photo session, and Harry walks over to me, "Hey."

"Hey." I stand up and look up at him, "How was your shoot?"

He smiles and shrugs, "Good." He holds his hand out, "I want to show you something."

I take his hand, "Okay." I smile and look down at my hand in his, "Where are we going?"

He looks over at me and smiles, "Just come on."

Harry never let's go of my hand once the whole time we talk to where he's taking me.

"Here we are." He motions, "This was one of the spots I shot my video at and the whole time.." he chuckles slightly, "I kept thinking about bringing you here."

I smile and I can feel my cheeks getting red, "Oh, wow. It's.." I look out at the gorgeous colored water, "It's beautiful." He steps in front of me, "I knew you'd like it."

I look up at him and he cups my cheeks, "Thank you for coming with me."

I lay a hand on his, "I wouldn't have missed this for anything."

He leans in and gently presses his lips to mine, "Want to go for a swim?"

I nod, "Yes."

He takes off his pants, surprisingly having short on underneath, "Smart." I say with a laugh as I lift my tank top over my head.

His eyes flicker over my body and up to my eyes, "Yeah, well, with shooting here and there. I just-" He laughs, "I guess it was smart."

I kick my shorts off and cross my arms over my stomach, my insecurities getting the best of me. Harry walks over and gently touches my arms with his hands, "You don't ever have to cover up around me."

He kisses my forehead and gently pulls my arms away, "You're absolutely stunning, love."

I let my arms drop and I smile shyly, "Thank you." I whisper quietly.

He tilts my chin up and kisses my lips, "Are you afraid of heights?"

I tilt my head, "Huh?"

"Have you ever been cliff jumping?" He continues to stare at me and I slowly shake my head, "No."

"Do you want to?"

I nod my head, trying my best to not show how scared shitless I just got.

He tilts his head, "Are you sure? We do-"

I cut him off, "No I want to." I laugh slightly, "I've always wanted to." He kisses my head and grabs my hand, "Well only go to the small jump first."

He leads me up the path to the first cliff and I slowly look over, "This is a small jump?"

He laughs slightly and shrugs, "Yeah, I guess so."

I take a deep breathe and grip his hand tighter, "Can you jump with me?" He nods and pulls me close to him, "Of course I can. Whenever you're ready, y/n."

I close my eyes and take a deep breathe again, "Okay."

"When we jump, keep your legs straight, okay?" He walks me up to the edge and interlocks his fingers with mine, "You can do it! I'll be right there with you."

I smile and nod, "One, two, three, jump. Okay?"

"Okay. You count off."

I start to count and next thing I know I'm in the air, going down to the water. I let out a scream and hold my breathe before we hit the water.

I start to panic because i let go of Harry's hand and now I can't find him.

I come up to the surface and calm down, spinning in circles looking for Harry.

He swims up behind me and wraps and arm around my waist, "Hey. Hey. I'm right here."

I spin around and wrap my arms around his neck, "That was.. exhilarating." I laugh, "I can't believe I did that."

He smiles at me, "You sure did, come on let's go to the more shallow end." He swims us over to the rocks and stands up, the water just below his shoulders.

"Thank you for making me do that." I swim closer to him, "I wouldn't have done that if you weren't with me."

He smiles and holds his arm out, "You did it." I walk over to him and he lifts me off the ground, his arm tight around my waist.

I bite my lip and gently trace his tattoos on his arm, "You know.." I look up at him and he slowly looks over at me, "What?"

"We could.. go back to the hotel.. and you can help me relieve all the sexual frustration you caused me today."

"Sexual frustration?" He smirks, "I was just-"

"Exactly." I glance up at him and slowly slide my hand across his chest, "Seeing you.. be you.. it's enough for me t-"

He pushes his lips against mine, kissing me with passion. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

He slides a hand down between our bodies and slips it into my suit bottoms, his finger toys with my clit and I gasp against his lips.

He walks us up and sets me down. He lays his pants out for me to lay on, "Here so the rocks don't scratch your back."

I smile and lean up to kiss him. I sit down and he leans down, slowly laying me back as he moves above me, "That okay?"

I nod and cup his face, "Perfect."

He bites his lip and his hand goes back down to slip inside my suit bottoms, sliding his two fingers up and down my slit.

I bite my lip and close my eyes, moaning as he slips them inside. I arch my back and grip his arm as he slowly pumps them in and out, "That feel good?" He asks lowly.

I open my eyes and nod, "Yes." I breathe out, "So good."

He leans down and kisses my neck, I search for the hand of his shorts and untie them. I slip my hand in and gently squeeze his cock.

Quiet groans escape Harry's lips, "Fuck."

I gasp and clench around his fingers, "H-Harry."

He nods, "Go ahead, baby."

I cum around his fingers and dig my heels into the rock below me, "Shit."

He takes his fingers out and brings them up to my lips. Before he says anything, I wrap my lips around them and he watches in awe.

He pulls them out and reaches down to slip my bottoms off. I take my hand from his shorts and lift myself up slightly. He sets them aside and takes his shorts off, getting back on top of me

"I don't have anything, do you still want to?" He asks looking at me.

I nod, "It'll be okay." I smile, "I trust you."

He nods and positions himself. He moans as he slides inside of me. I gasp and dig my nails into his arm, "Fuck, Harry."

He leans down and kisses me as he thrusts slowly, "You feel so good." He whispers, "You look so beautiful."

I smile and bite my lip as I wrap and arm around his neck, enjoying every second of how good Harry makes me feel.

Our lips move in sync as he slides his cock in and out, in and out.

We share moans and gasps and I whimper as I can feel him fucking me to my orgasm. I moan and tangle my fingers in his hair.

He moans as I tug, "Shit, y/n."

I clench around him and I let out a loud moan. His thrust become slower before he pulls out, releasing onto my stomach.

He pants and shakes his head, "Fuck."

I lay there, trying to calm myself down as my chest rapidly rises and falls.

Sex with Harry is always great, but that, that was more.

"Here, you can just use these." He picks up the other pant leg and gently wipes my stomach off. I grab him before he goes to pull away and I press my lips against his, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For loving me the way you do."

He smiles and brushes hair from my face, "You don't have to thank me for that." He kisses me and hands me my bottoms, "Let's go back to the hotel."

He winks and I smile, knowing that it's going to be a long, but love filled night.

——

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated and don’t forget to hit follow! ♥

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lady-of-endless · 18 days

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omg hai ! i was waiting for u to have no pending hcs. can u write some hcs about bruno and giorno preparing to and then proposing to their s/o? :> love ur stuff btw ;3

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for making you wait. Thank you for this request and above all thank you for your appreciation. Seeing you in my notifications makes me happy. Hope you'll enjoy it! The GIFs are not mine and I thank the owners.

Bruno Bucciarati, Giorno Giovanna x reader proposal headcanons

Bruno Bucciarati

- He will take care of everything alone, planning each detail. At least that's how it goes at first for only a little while because the others decide to join in, too happy that he finally decided to take this step. He will be pestered with crazy ideas from everyone.

- At first, he thinks about doing something big for you, after all, it's what you fully deserve. Something elegant, grand. But he starts thinking that it probably wouldn't be comfortable and heartfelt for you. He fell in love with how profound you are so something fancy and over the top wouldn't be as impressive to you as others think.

- After feelings of excitement and joy because he had reached this point in his life, comes nervousness. A heavy worry about what can go wrong. He's anxious and it's rare to see him like lose his cool like that, it's visible to everyone. However, Bucciarati will slowly calm down by replaying in his mind all the conversations you two had about the future so many times. He wants to make all the dreams you have about this moment come true.

- However, the strongest emotion of all, it's devotion. Devotion is a very powerful feeling that comes from a sense of commitment and loyalty. For Bucciarati, it also comes from a sense of admiration and respect that he has for you. He wants to show you all of these with this proposal.

- He decides to propose to you on a trip to the coast of Napoli. More precisely, his hometown. The last time he was there, his heart was torn apart, now he wants to create a new memory there, a loving one that is going to heal even the last thing in him that's broken. Some might say that it seems too self-centered but it's not. You asked him to take you there so many times after he opened up about his childhood and what happened.

- One late night, Abbachio will notice Bucciarati alone looking at the ring, lost in thought. He will understand right away that Bucciarati is asking himself if you'll say yes to him, after everything you know about him and everything you've been through because of him being a mafioso. Abbachio will sit down next to him sighing, before reassuring him that your wish to be with him will surpass anything, he just knows it.

- Of course, Bucciarati wrote down his confession and even memorized it but as he gets on one knee, his mind goes blank. He ends up talking from his heart.

"I know I was supposed to wait until the right time, but my heart can't stand without telling you. Everything feels right for me when I'm with you. I never thought I would be so lucky to find someone like you and not be taken away from my life. You fill the missing pieces of my heart. Will you marry me?"

Giorgio Giovanna

- He too prefers getting everything done alone and that's why he doesn't tell anyone, knowing how the others will want to be involved with the preparations. However, everyone starts noticing how he's more distracted than usual but no one knows what's on his mind that's so important.

- He wants to do something intimate, different than those basic ideas he has seen, and away from any hassle. Giorno thinks that this moment is only yours. A profound moment between your bound hearts.

- Giorno chooses a sunny place, close to the sea. More exactly, on the Amalfi Coast, where the Bougainvillea flowers bloom (visual). Why? Because he knows how your face lights up when he uses his stand ability and flowers bloom around. His heart also skips a beat when he sees you around flowers, it makes it look like his paradise. And because it's a calm place not many know about.

- The emotion Giorno feels the most is longing. Longing, that sense of yearning for something or someone. Giorno yearned for you and now he yearns for a future with you. It took him some time to make this transition, but now it's so very intense.

- At first, for a long time after deciding it's time to propose to you, Giorno doesn't feel nervous about it because he knows that you two shared a dream for a profound commitment. But in time, as the moment approaches, there is one question that makes him overthink everything.

- Giorno sometimes will look at you from afar and clench his hand around the ring in his pocket. One time, it's noticeable. Mista stepped closer to him, sensing something wrong, but not saying a word yet. Without moving his gaze from you, Giorno asks himself in a quiet tone so that Mista can hear too, if he will be able to make you this happy forever. Mista nodded, understanding everything but not knowing how to reassure him. He tells Giorno that because he worries about your happiness, he is already halfway there.

- Giorno doesn't want to write down his confession, thinking that such a thing shouldn't be planned. He wants to speak from the bottom of his heart, holding your hands as he always did when he was alone with you. However, when he's on one knee, he starts wishing he had written down at least some phrases because he's lost. When he looks into your eyes, he knows, he is ready.

“As I look at you now, I realize that the world is a better place with you in it. I cherish every second we have together, and I feel like I can breathe freely when you are beside me. I don't want a future without you. I, Giorno Giovanna, have another dream now. To make you happy. Will you let me try and will you marry me?”

#jojo bizarre adventure #bruno bucciarati #giorno giovanna #jjba bucciarati #jjba giorno #jjba part 5 #jjba fanfic #bucciarati x reader #giorno x reader #jjba x reader #golden wind #vento aureo #jjba headcanons

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avatar-anna · 2 years

Note

please do one where y and harry r fake dating bc they're trying to make his jealous but yn is in love with him

buckle up, it's a long one!

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he said, “let’s get out of this town. drive out of the city away from the crowds.”

Y/n and Harry were on a vacation on the Amalfi coast. It was all driving with the top down, soaking up the sun, and exploring crystal blue waters on a yacht. It was pretty much magic. She was on the perfect getaway with the perfect guy.

Except they weren’t actually together.

They were starting in a movie together, and the producers and their respective managers thought it would be a good idea to generate press by setting up a fake relationship a couple months before the movie was set to release.

In theory, it made sense. Harry and Y/n were the two leading roles, they had great chemistry on and off the screen, and neither of them were currently seeing anyone, so there wouldn’t be any messy drama. In theory.

“Have you done this before?” Harry asked. He was laying next to Y/n in a shaded part of the yacht, close enough that it was clear they were “together” but not so close that they were suffocating each other. It was ridiculously hot outside, and all Y/n wanted to do was swim until her muscles were sore.

“What?” she asked, closing her book to look over at him through the shades of her vintage sunglasses.

“You know,” Harry gestured between the two of them. “This. The fake dating.”

“Twice. When I was first starting out. But then I was in a relationship for a couple years, and I don’t really like doing both, so.”

Y/n shrugged. She didn’t mind the PR stunts as much as other actors or celebrities seemed to. To her, it was just another job, and she had very strict boundaries and managers she trusted to respect them. It could’ve been a lot worse, and honestly she got to know a lot of cool people that way.

“Oh. I didn’t know you could decide to do one and not the other,” he said.

Like Y/n, Harry was wearing sunglasses, so she couldn’t see the expression in his eyes, but she understood well enough. Having freedom to choose like she could was a rarity in this industry.

“I was very clear about my boundaries when I first started working, but I also didn’t start my career as a teenager,” she said, sitting up so she could face him better. “Your managers are meant to support you and do what’s best for you, but they can lose sight of that sometimes. Don’t be afraid to tell them what you need.”

Harry nodded, but he still wouldn’t look at Y/n. Maybe he had a lot to think about. Or maybe she overstepped. Whatever caused his silence, she knew him well enough to know that it was time to leave him alone with his thoughts.

“I’m gonna go for a swim,” she said, standing up and shrugging off her cover up and removing the clip that had been holding up her hair.

Since Harry didn’t really say anything in reply, she figured he was just going to stay and read his book. Bukowski of all things, but Y/n didn’t want to broach that subject, mood change or not, so she kept her mouth shut about it.

The last few months, through chemistry tests and running lines together and hanging out just the two of them outside of filming, Y/n got to know Harry pretty well. He was a great guy with incredible talent, but he was also...a little moody on occasion. He sometimes took critiques to heart or just got in his head, and it just took over his entire demeanor.

She was pretty sure that's what was happening right now, so she decided to leave him alone. Y/n needed her alone time too.

After spraying on another layer of sunscreen, Y/n went to the edge of the yacht, staring down at the blue water beneath her. She was a city girl at heart, but getting out and getting away was always something she looked forward to. Having Harry here was just an added bonus.

Throughout the filming process, Y/n developed a bit of a crush on Harry.

Well, she technically had one before they met, having been a fan of One Direction and his solo work, but after they actually got to meet and talk and get to know each other, she only liked him more.

But Harry only seemed to see her as a friend, so she did her best to feel the same.

Y/n thought about the last few months as her eyes stayed trained on the water, almost in a trance. There had never been a moment in her career where she had feelings for a fellow cast member, but there was something about Harry. They were good friends, and even greater scene partners. Sometimes Y/n wondered if she was the only one who felt it, but she was too scared to ask.

“Head’s up!”

Before she could even think, Harry was running past and jumping off the yacht, taking Y/n with him. Squealing with delight, she was weightless for a moment, free falling until she eventually hit the water. It was cold, but not enough that she wanted to get out. When her head finally rose above the surface, she immediately splashed him.

“What the hell, Harry?”

His laughter bounced off the ocean, his smile brighter than the sun high up in the sky. It made Y/n’s stomach flutter. But when he swam over to her, she pushed those feelings down and focused on just enjoying her much needed and much deserved vacation.

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so bad, but he does it so well.

“I want—I want somehow to get away with you into a world where words like that—categories like that—won't exist. Where we shall be simply two human beings who love each other, who are the whole of life to each other, and nothing else on earth will matter!”

“Oh, my dear—where is that country? Have you ever been there? I know so many who've tried to find it. And believe me, they all got out by mistake at wayside stations. At places like Bologna or Pisa or Monte Carlo, and it wasn't at all different from the old world they'd left, but only rather smaller and dingier and more promiscuous.”

“Then what, exactly, is your plan for us?”

“For us? But there's no us in that sense! We're near each other only if we stay far from each other. Then we can be ourselves, trying to be happy behind the backs of people who trust us.”

“I am beyond that!”

“No, you're not! You've never been beyond, but I have. And I know what it looks like there. Beyond is alone, and I no longer want to be. You—”

“And cut! That was good guys! Really great stuff! Let’s take five and we’ll start again.”

The silence that had fallen over the scene and Y/n and Harry worked broke, dozens of voices commingling to make one big cacophony of sound until recording started back up.

Y/n stepped out of the old fashioned buggy and took the bottled water a production assistant handed her, careful not to smudge her red lipstick. She eyed Harry as we walked to the craft services table over the top of the bottle, watching as he spoke to a few crew members animatedly, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“A PR relationship might not be a bad idea,” a voice from beside her said.

Looking over, she saw her manager. It had taken a couple tries to find the right fit, but Marie had yet to steer her wrong. “You think?”

“You’re both young and at the height of your careers. It certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

“I don’t know, fake dating seems to be dying out. Everyone can see through it nowadays, can’t they?”

The idea of dating Harry was definitely intriguing, even if it was all just for show. But people weren’t as gullible as they used to be, not to mention Harry’s fans taking the term “fandom” to a whole different level. Y/n worried no one would buy it. Or that it might convey the wrong message.

“Does this project need a boost, or is this merely a suggestion?” she asked her manager.

Marie was blunt with her answer, but Y/n preferred it that way. “You know as well as I do that modern adaptations of classics aren't necessarily going to be critically acclaimed or received well by the public.”

“Barring Pride and Prejudice, of course,” Y/n said sagely.

“Of course,” Marie replied immediately.

They were on set of a slightly modernized adaptation of Age of Innocence. When the director came to Y/n about the project, she wasn't totally sure about it, for the exact reasons your manager mentioned. But the director had a vision, and when she explained it to Y/n, she started to see it too.

So she said yes to playing one of the lead roles. Y/n didn't meet Harry until the first table read, and at first she wondered if he was hired on to draw more attention to the movie, as he'd never acted in much before. But she realized pretty quickly that that wasn't the case.

Harry was gracious and kind and cared a lot about the project. He worked hard and asked everyone questions about so he could be better. He showed up early most days and never complained when night shoots ran late. He even brought coffee and pastries most mornings, even when there was an entire craft services set up.

It was safe to say that Harry was right for the job, on and off camera.

“Look, it really is just a suggestion. The movie would do just fine without it, but it might generate a bit more buzz if you did.”

Marie made good points, and Y/n trusted her completely. She knew her manager would never steer her wrong. “Well, you know my rules. And make sure Harry’s on board too. I won’t say yes I less he does.”

“You got it, boss," Marie said, and then she was gone in a flash, leaving Y/n by her lonesome.

The rest of the five minutes went by quickly, and before long, everyone was back in position, that hush enveloping the whole set once again.

Y/n loved that feeling just before the director called action. It was like she and whoever else she was acting with were the only people to exist. Peace settled into her bones as she took a few deep breaths, as hundreds of eyes inspected her every move, admired each one. Everything fell away when she acted. It was just her, her character, and the words she was meant to say.

Harry looked a little nervous, but Y/n just smiled kindly at him. Despite holding his own, he was still a little unsure of himself at times. He knew his lines, and had done a good job so far, better than good, really. Still, he'd come to Y/n for advice from time to time, and would even confess to being nervous on occasion.

"It's intimidating to act with so many talented people. Especially you."

"Me? Why me?"

"You make it look so easy. Leave some talent for the rest of us, would you?"

So Y/n became a mentor of sorts to Harry, which helped them grow closer as friends.

“Try to relax, you’re gonna be great,” she murmured to him, only loud enough so that they could hear.

“Thanks,” Harry said, grinning a little. “You too.”

Y/n smiled back, but once the director’s voice echoed across the silence, she was ready to fight with her secret lover.

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red lips and rosy cheeks.

“Smile!”

Harry turned towards the camera, a bright smile on his face.

The camera shutter clicked, and before long, a polaroid picture was in Y/n’s hands. Even though she didn’t have to, she waved the picture until the image appeared. Harry was all smiles. His cheeks were red from being out in the sun the last few days and freckles were starting to peek out from beneath his sunglasses.

“Cutie,” Y/n cooed, admiring the image in her hand. “You really do have an excellent smile.”

Harry blushed, but it just made her smile more. Taking the camera out of her hands, he pointed it in her direction. “Your turn.”

Y/n posed for the camera. She wasn’t the best at modeling but she did her best, though when Harry began to make faces and silly little comments, she couldn’t help but laugh around her wine glass.

They were wine tasting today. It was a day off from generating press on this vacation, but they still decided to spend some time together. Y/n was more than happy to oblige when Harry asked if she wanted to go wine tasting this afternoon. She feared that once this was all over, once the buzz from the movie died down, she and Harry wouldn’t hang out as much. It happened with every project she’d ever done. The cast would get close, but then life would happen and pull everyone in different directions. But she wanted this friendship with Harry to last, crush or not.

So she said yes to his invitation, more than happy to spend time alone with him. Did she take extra time picking out what she was going to wear? Yes, but she wasn’t going to read into it too much.

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i thought heaven can't help me now.

“This place is just gorgeous, isn’t it? I swear I’d give up acting to just have a little house, maybe even a vineyard like the one we went to, and live here. Just me and my eclectic group of animals.”

Harry chuckled as he picked a grape from the bunch on the picnic blanket you were sharing.

Re-shoots started about a week ago, so you and Harry were at a grand estate in Massachusetts. It was hot out, but not unbearably so. So to celebrate their last last scene filming together, Y/n nipped a bottle of wine, scrounged together some cheese, crackers, dried fruit, and a blanket, and invited Harry on a picnic on the opposite side of the property. They were away from all the cameras and crews and assistants and managers. Under a tree in the forest just beyond the estate, it was just them.

“We could get one together. It’d be rather successful, I think,” Harry said. He laid back on the blanket, stretching his arms behind his head. His shirt rode up to reveal a small sliver of his stomach, the tattoos he had still covered by stage makeup. Harry hated having to cover up tattoos, and not just because it meant extra hours in the makeup chair. He claimed tattoos made his body less boring.

Y/n kept her thoughts about his body to herself.

Shading her eyes, she looked down at Harry. “That would kind of defeat the purpose of being alone, though.”

“We’d have to keep it running somehow,” Harry said with a lazy shrug of his shoulders.

She tried to hide her smile at the sound of “we.” It would be hard enough as it was to say goodbyes without these thoughts on her head of her and Harry loving happily ever after on their own vineyard.

“We should probably get back. This place is huge, and I don’t trust either of us to find our way back after the sun sets.”

“A smart decision indeed.”

Y/n reached a hand out to help Harry to his feet, though she severely miscalculated her strength. She ended up slipping, landing on Harry with a soft oomph!

She laughed nervously, but didn’t move. They’d been in this position once before, but it was much different. There were cameras and people milling around and a director yelling “Cut!” and “Action!” and giving out pointers on how to make the scene more natural and fluid.

Now it was just them, with only a slight breeze and the occasional bird chirping to keep them company. The sun cast a golden light on Harry’s face, making his usual jade green eyes a beautiful amber. He truly is beautiful, Y/n thought, her eyes scanning every inch of his face.

“Y/n, what are you—”

“Oh God, nothing, I wasn’t thinking.”

Y/n scrambled away from Harry, not even wincing at the little rocks and sticks on the ground that scratched at her legs.

Almost as if in a trance, she had leaned down to kiss him. And for a split second, she thought Harry had leaned in too, but then he spoke and she’d obviously read the situation wrong.

Without even a glance in Harry’s direction, Y/n was speeding away. She wasn’t sure where she was going, all she knew was she needed to put as much distance between herself and Harry as possible.

How could she have been so stupid? Outside of their fake dates and scenes together, Y/n kept physical touch to a minimum, knowing that it would make her head all fluttery. But now? Now she couldn’t possibly hide her feelings from him. She tried to kiss him!

“Y/n! Y/n, wait!”

But she didn’t wait, she just kept going deeper and deeper into the forest, twigs and old leaves crunching beneath her old-timey costume shoes.

She couldn’t keep running forever, though, no matter how much she wanted to. Y/n was in shape thanks to her personal trainer, but she was still in her costume which cinched at the waist and wasn't the best to be running in. Her wig itched and her shoes pinched, so she eventually stopped, bending over as she panted.

“Oh thank God, these shoes are killing me.”

Harry was standing a few feet away, bent over just like Y/n was. The slick hairstyle he’d been given for this reshoot was falling limp over his brow, sweat lining his hairline. He straightened up before she did, though neither of them said anything for a minute or two.

Too focused on her breathing, Y/n didn’t notice Harry come closer to her. When she looked up, he was right in front of her.

“Was the running necessary?” he asked.

He was trying to lighten the mood, but Y/n was still absolutely mortified. “I—It was just in the moment, I swear. I know we’re just friends. Really, Harry, I’m so sorry. I—I would never want to ruin our friendshi—mmph”

“Shh.”

Harry pressed a finger to Y/n’s mouth, effectively shutting her up. Her eyes were wide as his looked her over, a blush forming on her cheeks when he focused on her lips.

Y/n’s heart was doing jumping jacks and flips in her chest as she waited for his next move. What was he doing? Was he messing with her? Why wasn’t he saying anyth—

And then his finger was gone and his lips were on hers. Y/n melted against him almost immediately. Like every other kiss she and Harry shared for work, this one just felt right, perhaps even moreso now that the only real motivation was because they wanted to.

But did he? Want to? What if he was only kissing her out of pity? He felt bad that she had feelings for him, and he was just trying to make her feel better.

“Stop—Why are you—Why are you doing this?”

“Well you —You were the one who tried to kiss me,” he said, though it sounded more like a question.

“It—It was just in the moment! I would never—I mean I don’t—”

“Oh, I get it,” Harry said, seeming to read the situation.

Y/n was ready for the rebuff, for Harry to tell her that he didn’t see her the way she saw him, that they were simply screen partners.

“You’re worried that if we sleep together it’ll ruin our friendship. But you don’t have to, not if we agree right now that feelings won’t get in the way. Should be easy, right? We’re friends.”

That was not at all what Y/n was expecting. She floundered for a moment, not really sure what to say. How was she supposed to tell him that it was too late? That feelings were already involved? She had to tell him, she knew that, but she was afraid of what would come after.

“Right. Easy. Just friends.”

Y/n knew it was wrong, and that she was an idiot for not telling the truth. But it was so hard to focus when one of his hands was on her waist and the other was gently cupping her face, all the while gazing down at her like he already had plans for when she agreed.

It’s just the movie, she told herself when he leaned in again. And again when he laid her down across her bed in the mansion. And she kept repeating that, telling herself that she didn’t have feelings for Harry, that she was merely attracted to her costar, nothing else.

She didn’t believe it, of course, but saying it made her feel better.

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his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.

Y/n woke up to the sound of rustling.

Blinking her eyes open, she saw Harry rummaging through piles of rumpled clothes on the floor of her hotel room. It wasn’t an uncommon sight these days, but seeing him leave so early caused a pang in her chest.

“Where are you going?” she asked, trying hard to sound casual.

Harry turned around, a small smile on his face as he buttoned his shirt. “Back to my room. We have a long day of press junkets, and I want to get in a trip to the gym before our first interview. I’ll see you later?”

Y/n nodded, barely registering a kiss on her cheek before he was gone. He did that occasionally, but not enough to make it feel like their strictly physical relationship was anything but that. At the start of all this, she wondered if Harry would someday develop feelings too, but to her dismay, he kept his word.

She’d hoped he would feel it too, that after a while, he would realize that there was something there between them. But he never commented on it or did anything that would possibly reveal reciprocated feelings.

They would spoon after sex and talk a little, and sometimes the conversations were deeper than surface level. It felt like Y/n would see the “real Harry,” the unfiltered version, only behind closed doors. Outside of hotel rooms, he treated her like everyone else. Unless they were on a fake date, if course. So she did the same, feeling guilty every time he left.

With a huff, she fell back against the bed, wondering how she’d gotten herself into this mess.

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some day when you leave me, i hope these memories follow you around.

Premiere night. The first of many.

Y/n was dressed to the nines in a gorgeous baby pink gown, her hair curled and styled to perfection. Her style was something along the lines of classically vintage, loving the idea of breathing new life into the idea of “Old Hollywood glam.”

Harry had yet to arrive, but he would be on the carpet any minute now.

It came as no surprise to Y/n that he wasn’t standing next to her, though. Part of their whole charade was to reveal that she and Harry had “broken up” by arriving separately to the first red carpet premiere.

So she stood tall and posed, ignoring shouts asking whether she and Harry had broken up. And when attention turned towards the start of the carpet, Y/n couldn’t help but look too.

Harry was there, looking absolutely breathtaking in a suit that fit from collar to cuff. But that wasn’t the shock of the night.

Y/n could barely hide her shocked expression as he helped someone out of his limo, holding back tears as she realized it was one of their costars.

She was immediately bombarded by questions and demands for her comment on the situation, but for a moment, all she could do was stare at the couple, at the way Harry leaned in and whispered something in the young woman’s ear.

But just as he was about to turn her way, she centered herself. She had no right to, but she felt like her heart was shattering into a million pieces, each one more jagged than the last.

She finished walking the red carpet without breaking down, she even managed a greeting from Harry and their other costar.

He didn’t even seem like anything was amiss, like he had been in on this fake betrayal from the start, a fact that gutted Y/n even more.

When she agreed to this arrangement, she made sure that Harry knew about it and was on board. They openly communicated and agreed to a plan before putting it in motion. So to be so blindsided by two people she considered friends, especially Harry, was horrible. She didn’t have to act betrayed for the cameras, she was betrayed. By Harry and his managers, perhaps even her own.

Everyone settled into the theater, and the movie shortly began.

It was turning out great, but Y/n couldn’t even focus on that as Harry and his new “girlfriend” giggled and flirted just one seat over.

It made her feel like an idiot. He told her they were just friends, and now she knew why. Maybe when he kissed her that day in the forest, their costar was unavailable. Harry was too, Y/n supposed, having been caught up in all the PR relationship business.

Did that make her someone Harry settled for? A consolation prize? She didn’t want to think so poorly of Harry when she thought she knew him so well, but apparently she didn’t, if the last hour was anything to go by.

Having had enough, Y/n promptly stood up, holding onto the poofy skirt if her dress as she quietly left the theater.

She felt like a fool, and she really only had herself to blame.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles angst

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ransprang · 7 months

Note

Hi! I’m so excited for Kinktober! Would it be possible to get Bruno Bucciarati and the voyeurism kink please? I’m excited to see all of the fics you guys out out!

Kinktober 2023

Bucciarati - Voyeurism

Bucciarati sat on a bench outside staring into the distance looking at the waves crash on the beach. Watching the gentle rhythm of the waves, the slow but firm pace undulating motion, was stirring feelings of long dormant arousal within him. Sighing he closes his eyes, and puts his head back. He begins feeling the rhythm within him and starts moving his hips back and forth with each wave, humping the air. His hands start to wander across his body, one slipping into the heart-shaped hole in his shirt and the other slightly lower.

While Bucciarati is feeling every curve of his, he hears a branch snap making his eyes open. He turned around breaking his trance to see a group of tourists waving a flag, walking in his direction. He eyed the crowd carefully checking for any children under the age of 18. He doesn’t spot any, he is glad. He turns back around, slipping back into his state, after all he needed to unwind after a long hard day. He usually didn’t mind an audience.

Unbeknownst to him, someone was hidden near the trees next to him enjoying the show - it was you. You were part of the tour group in Italy, but would break apart once in a while after spotting this man on the streets. You had followed the young Italian here, and were delighted to discover him pleasuring himself on the shores of the Amalfi Nude Beach. You only wish that he would strip himself fully, eventually. Your eyes widened as Bucciariati stood up and began unbuckling his pants and thong, pulling them down and rubbing some sunscreen lotion on his crotch. This could not be legal, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene long enough to call the police.

Bucciarati kept his hand on his long 7 inch hard cock (which was well trimmed) and started pumping his cock. He thrusted fast and hard into his hand as he made small moans with each pump. Behind the bushes, you slipped your own hand into your bush, and started fingering yourself in time with Bruno’s thrusts. “Merd”, Bucciarati whispered the heat rising up his body. You whimpered as you touched your clit to this man's glory, your walls contracted feeling the emptiness, craving his thick presence. Bruno threw his head back, his head turned in the direction of where you were hiding.

“Bella, I know you’re there.”, he says, using Sticky Fingers he detaches his other hand and drags you out of the trees. Your pussy hanging out as you did not stop touching yourself while being dragged to the majestic man before you. You were flustered, “Oh- um, I-” you scrambled to come up with an excuse. Bucciarati has a gentle smile on his face while he looks you up and down with lustful eyes, “Sorry I had to bring you out here Bella, the leaves were hiding too much.” You looked at him starry eyed and stuttered “No worries, I'll do everything right here for you to see clearly,” as you sat with him on the bench you two continued together towards your climax. The tour group from before had walked much closer to you, and you were surprised to find a dozen elderly asian retirees, watching you both curiously.

You sped up the pace of your fingering, moaning loudly. Bucciarati joined thrusting faster. As you two reached your peak and looked into each other's eyes. Bucciarati shoots his load 2 feet up into the air as your body shakes, rolling your eyes back. Suddenly, hearing claps and cheering at the back, as someone threw their cap into the air. Tired but sated, you and Bucciarati slowly stood and took a shaky bow, while the retirees tossed bits of change at your feet.

Your elderly asian retirees,

Admins sav, san & sar

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renaldiroyals · 1 year

Text

CROWN PRINCESS CHARLÉNE AND PASCAL CANET COVER ELLE SANDOR'S MARCH COVER

From Paris to Montreux Delphine DuBois joins our Crown Princess and Human Rights Lawyer Pascal Canet for a day to discuss their relationship and future together.

Delphine: I don’t think anyone knows the answer to this. How did the two of you meet? Charléne: I had just stopped by to check out the new Manet at the Musée D’Orsay Pascal: I just happened to be there for a work event and I saw her standing in front of the painting by herself so I went over.

Delphine: On a scale of 1-10 how nerve wracking is it to approach the future Queen of Sandor? Pascal: A 10 no doubt about it. She also enjoyed giving me a hard time at first. I don’t think she agreed to a first date for at least 3 weeks.

“She put me in the friend zone for a while but in a way I’m glad. We were able to build a strong friendship first before anything”

Delphine: Where did you go? Charléne: I believe it was a this small family owned restaurant close by to where I was living at the time. Pascal: I wanted it to be somewhere intimate and private so she was comfortable Charléne: [laughs] I think we spent the whole night together just talking and eating out in the courtyard until the sun came up

The couple then go on to detail a long friendship before romantic sparks really flew on a weekend away with mutual friends in Amalfi Coast.

“I had just come out of a long term relationship which I was still healing from and I was holding back a lot but it was then when I realised that I was seeing him differently and I just went for it and kissed him”

Delphine: Oh. That must’ve been a welcome surprise. Pascal: Shocked but in a good way. My feelings had already been growing so it was nice to finally have that reciprocated. Charléne: It was worth the wait.

What does a typical Sunday look like for the two of you? Pascal: When we’re together we probably just order in and try to spend quality time together. Charléne: Yup. Just like any other couple.

Delphine: What is the secret to a successful long distance relationship?

Pascal: Checking in with each other as much as possible throughout the day

Charléne: We both fly back and forth as much as possible but hopefully we will be together again soon.

Delphine: Ah yes. So do you plan on continuing with your career when you move back? Pascal: Eventually I’ll have to pivot away from practicing but for now I’m focused on doing what I can.

Opening up about the couple’s future, they admit that they are not in any rush.

“We’ve had the talk about children and marriage and we’re on the same page but we’re taking our time. It’s also important for me that Pascal accomplishes his career goals first”

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simon-x-billy · 8 months

Text

Year of the OTP: September

September prompt: hurt/comfort

Chapter 9: Let the slings and arrows commence

AN: It was such a beautiful day. But then Simon’s PA Kelly happens, and everything goes sideways. Particularly since Simon had planned on a lusty afternoon. And then that asshat in NY he thinks of as his best friend decides to resurface after Simon has suffered the indignity of being quite so completely blown off. This again on the same day that Simon already has plans for said lusty afternoon. TWs: Whomp. This chapter heavily features drunkenness, angst, a triggered character, coping mechanisms, dissociation. More TWs: Long chapters. Wondering if large blank spaces are typos. Disappointment at the lack of sexytimes. A whopping Zero horny purple demons on the smut-o-meter. Zip. Nada. Masterlist || ao3 || Prev || Next wip!

Chapter 9: Let the slings and arrows commence

————/Billy/————

“This place sucks for scandalous road sex,” Simon declares. “The scenic overlooks keep getting looked-over. And there’s nowhere to, like, run into the trees, or behind a bush or something.”

“Behind a bush?”

“I’m speaking figuratively. Or metaphorically. Whatever. That’s not the point.”

“No? Seems to me that’d be precisely the point.”

“Don’t distract me with your distractions, Delaney. I mean, even the Jersey Turnpike has rest areas and truck stops.”

“Are you saying that you prefer this Jersey…thing?”

“Jersey Turnpike,” he says, as if it’s obvious.

“Whatever. You prefer the roads in this Jersey place over the Amalfi Coast?”

“Only for scandalous road sex,” he answers.

“So you’ve made a study of this sort of thing, have you?”

“No, but I’m willing to start,” he promises, the cheeky monkey.

The expression is priceless. “If you could see your face, mate. You look like you’re salivating.” Simon, you sly dog.

“Bother you?” he asks innocently. Less sly dog, more wolf now.

He can blow my house down any day. “Who am I to stop yer man gettin an eyeful?”

He’s staring at my bits without a lick of shame. “An eyefull as fuck.” And that shuts me mouth right the fuck up. But it’s grinning.

————/Simon/————

“Absolutely not! No fucking way! Don’t even think I’m caving on this, Kelly.” To truly drive home the point, I’m angry-pointing at her as if she can actually see it.

“Johnny wants a meeting. And you want to hear this, Simon. Serious,” she emphasizes in that supposedly ‘English’ accent it took me years to understand. (Who even knows where the Midlands are? Do they even exist? Like in real life?) She remains undaunted. “Listen to me, you knob! Wear a suit, yeah?”

“Why does it have to be in person? And who wears suits?” Nuh-uh. Nope. No way. This can’t be happening. “Can’t we just FaceTime or whatever?”

“Si-mun. It’s important. And besides, you’re on a fuckin panel. And you fuckin forgot. Because you’re a twat.”

“Oh my god, when is it? Fuck! SHIT!” I’ve dropped my phone scrambling to pull up my calendar. “Grrrrrraarrrrr!” What? It felt like something to roar over.

Kelly interrupts my roar. “Panel’s morning after tomorrow, half nine, yeah? But you got less than twenty four hours to get to Johnny’s meeting.”

“What?! Kelly! What the fuck!”

“The fuck is this, Simon: The panel’s on your schedule. You’re the one who said yes. You’re the one who’s suddenly back in Italy — for a week — with no call! Until you want in to a party. A party in another fuckin country, you prick! Why are you back in ITALY?!!! I am so fucked off at you right now.”

“Well, I’m fucked off at you right now, too! Whatever that means, I mean it. Even though everything you just said is right. God I hate that!”

“God I hate you! You’re such a dickhead. When were you planning on coming back to me?”

See? She loves me. Even when she hates me. Even in that barely intelligible accent.

Everyone I care about says horrible words to me as a habit, and it makes me feel loved? There’s gotta be something seriously wrong with me.

“Do I even rate a visit?” she demands.

See? She love/hates me. Angrily.

The phone vibrates against my face.

“Aw, Jesus fucking Christ, Helena Handbasket!* I’ve got another call. And I totally don’t want to talk to him, either. Sort of like how I didn’t want to talk to you, my own personal pet harpy. Text me everything, like you already planned to, whatever bye.”

I take a calming breath. I really, really don’t want this call right now.

Ugh.

“Chase. It’s been a minute.”

“I know, feels like a year, man,” he exclaims jovially. He’s jovial. Fuck him. “But don’t worry about it,” he continues. “I get it. You’ve been with Lisa. I’ve been with Lily. We’ve all succumbed to the ‘practically married’ lure of contentment and hibernation.”

“Inaccurate. You fell into domesticity. But me? There was never any domesticity to fall into. And Chase? Never speak her name to me again.”

“Wait, what?”

“Like I said, it’s been a minute,” I remind him, voice flat.

“What happened? Fuck man, I’m-” He pauses. “Hang out with me tonight. We have shit to catch up on.”

“You think?” I’ve just realized I don’t want to tell him a damned thing. And anyway, “I can’t tonight.” He doesn’t get details or explanations after blowing me off for a year.

And the thing that really pisses me off is that I love Lily! Always have. He knows this. It’s not like I didn’t want to hang out with them as a couple, and they know that. Because I fuckin introduced the pair of them! They just disappeared off the face of the earth. When I really needed my best friend. I am so pissed at him right now, it might just be the last nail in the coffin of my happy day. “Look Chase, I gotta go.”

“No, wait! I-“

“Later bro.”

I don't want to leave Italy!!! I DON’T! WANT! TO LEAVE! ITALY!

“Arrrrrgh!” I turn to Billy, “Can we put that song back on and put the top down?” I’m already pressing the button, aaaaaaand? The top is down.

This calamity doesn’t get to ruin the most awesome day of my adulthood.

Um.

Wow.

Is that an overstatement?

I literally can’t remember the last time I felt so good, so positive, so yes!!! It just feels right. God, does it feel right. I don’t know how to process my reaction to this thing that’s happened with Billy. Best day I can remember? That’s some fucking heavy shit.

“What’s all this, mate?” Billy hesitantly asks. “Who are these people and why?”

“My agent wants a meeting. In person. Wants me to come back. Johnny doesn’t usually need a face-to-face, and wearing a suit? I’m somewhere between suspicious and intrigued.”

“Sounds uncomfortable.”

“And the worst part? I literally forgot about NY Comic Con. I always cosplay Comic Con. It’s the only time I ever get to be a vampire. (D, because obviously.) And even more worst? I forgot I’m on a panel, and that’s just irresponsible. That’s my career.”

“Oh, right.”

What’s going on with his voice?

“Right. And now Chase remembers I exist after like a year of silence. And all I can feel about it is pissed. I want my happy vibe back,” and the moment I take a breath, “Shitfuckfuckinfuck!!!” because the phone’s vibrating again. “What the actual fuck?!” I ask the Medi/Tyrrhenian sky.

With no answer from that quarter, I turn on Kelly. “Kelly, what the fuck.”

“Shut up and listen, you dick. I’ve chartered a jet from Naples. You’re coming home.”

She hung up on me! “I don’t-” I drop my head back against the head rest and roar “FUUUCK!” at the Medi/Tyrrhenian sky.

“That’s a lot of fucking,” Billy says, unhelpfully. He nudges my arm. “What do you need, Simon? What can I do?”

“Damn, that’s- Why do you have to be so awesome all the time? So annoying.”

“Simon, you barely know me.”

I feel like I’ve just been slapped in the face by his seriousness.

“That’s not true,” I say, softly.

“No, hang on, hold up, that came out wrong.” He squeezes my hand. “You haven’t known me long enough to see my bad bits. That’s all I meant.”

“Ok. Accurate. I guess.”

“So what do you need?” he asks again.

“Long term parking at the airport. Is that a thing that exists here?” I ask.

And because he’s aiming for perfection, he replies, “Let me drive yeh.”

“That’s way too much to ask. We’re almost home.” The word ‘home’ just kinda rings out, hanging there in the fresh silence.

A few minutes later, Billy pulls off into the hotel’s courtyard, makes a big u turn, and asks, “Want to run in and get your stuff?”

“Nah. Let’s just go,” I sigh. “Walking into that room? I’d never want to leave.” And I really don’t want to lose a minute of this absolute rush of a crush I’ve got on this guy, and the high of actually getting to have him.

That is, getting to have him for all of a hot second, at most. I mean, seriously, what the hell? God just punched me in the nads with fate.

“I can’t believe how completely I forgot about Comic Con. That’s like, I mean it’s kinda, um, part of my bones. My frickin identity. Happiness that sort of mushrooms up into the atmosphere over the Javitz Center at the same time every year. My very bones should have been screaming at me really loudly to remind me. And I just didn’t hear them this time.”

He nods once. Why did the vibe just get all weird?

Ok, then. This is an obvious cue to start babbling.

“Yeah. I have zero reason to be invited, but I guess they want a voice for the young people. I’m supposed to talk about what it was like getting started so early.” Pfff.

“Like it’s my job to convince them all to be graphic novelists or some shit. Which in itself makes no sense. I am not a graphic novelist. My books have only ever been prosaic print books. I mean I would almost-kill to have somebody turn them into graphic novels. And even more almost-murderous for manga.” I shiver, theatrically.

Then it occurs to me, “Oh my god, I’m a character. Holy fucking shit, can you imagine a manga me??? That’s just fucked up!” I reprise my theatrical shiver. Instead of squealing, which is what I really want to do.

“Yeah. And this year I’m on the schedule? Being real-me on a stage with a microphone, ‘educating’ this community? The community I treasure as my family of choice, even if they’re all strangers. My esteemed fellow aliens, vampires, superheroes, plushies, hardcore manga and anime perfection, I salute you! Transformers, Horus Heresy with chainswords and shit. I AM VAMPIRE HUNTER D, FOR GOD’S SAKE!!! I feel like a fraud.”

Oh no, I’m not done yet. “Allow me to repeat, I have zero reason to be included. Something about being confident enough, trusting myself to find an agent and a publishing deal, blah blah blah. I dunno, maybe it kinda makes sense, kinda.”

“Mmm,” is all I get back.

Now all I can think about is this weird, sour pall hanging over everything. In the car at least. I think it would be impossible for the Amalfi Coast to have a pall. Except when Vesuvius erupts. Obviously. That’s a big, hot, body-melting pall. (So? I’m scared of volcanoes, I’m not ashamed.)

Oh please, stop my brain from trying to fill the awkward silence growing between the two of us. It feels horrible and I want it to go away.

Oh God, I can feel it coming, the babbling turning into incessant nervous chatter. It’s somewhere between word vomit and lactose intolerance. Sentences become explosive diarrhea of the brain, and particularly unpleasant word-gas that lingers with a foul smell. Gross, right? Yeah, gross.

“Yeah, and I have to find out how badly Johnny wants to kill me right now. Oh my god. The two people who hate/love me most in the world. And I have to see them both this week. There will be blood. Lots of it. Mine. More.” Yes, I am still talking. “This sucks! Worst timing ever. Why doesn’t God want me to get laid?”

Billy doesn’t laugh like I’d hoped. Instead, he’s gone all stiff. Definitely something I said. His grip tightens on Lola’s steering wheel. This is weird. Why is he being so weird? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be anything but gregarious and positive. Now he’s just kind of gone invisible on me. Blank. Like he’s not even there.

“I’ll have Leo mail your things back to yeh,” he offers.

Huh?

Why?

“Huh? Why? I’m confused. If anything, I’ve needed more stuff, not less.”

“Well, if you’re leaving…..And you have to…..” and he just sort of trails off at the end. Then after a beat, he mumbles to himself. “I should have known.” The mumbles turn to grumbles. “Never fails. Never fuckin fails.”

“I know, right? Murphy’s Law.” Then it occurs to me, “Murphy must have been Irish. And stout.”

He doesn’t take the bait.

“Right, well, it’s been really fun, Simon. More than fun. Seems like such an inadequate adjective for, well, you know what I mean.”

“Huh?”

“It’s just- I’m glad I got the chance to know you a bit better, before yeh had to be goin.”

“Oh! Is that what this is? Billy?”

He waits in silence, a look of blank resignation on his face.

“I’m coming back!”

He pauses, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But nothing drops. “You are,” he states, as if I’m about to correct him.

“Of course I am, you idiot! How’d you put it? ‘Thick as pig shit’?”

Finally he glances over at me. He looks distinctly grey. Not his hair, I mean his face.

Oh frack. I think I really fucked this one up. Fucking Kelly! She gets me all worked up with her bald-faced contempt for my input and ineptitude.

“Billy. Look at me for a sec.”

As he glances over, I say, “I’m coming back. I wouldn’t just run off after what happened. You should at least know me better than that, Delaney. And anyway…” I have a bit more difficulty spitting this one out. “I like y- Us. I like us. You. What happened. I’m-”

Then a horrible thought arrives. “Do- I mean, do you want me to go?” comes out kinda quietly, sounding straight-up cowardly.

“Course not!” he almost bellows.

The fuck? “Hey.”

He doesn’t answer.

“Good,” I say softly.

“Good? What’s good?!” I can see him folding in on himself.

“You don’t want me to go away,” I admit even softer.

“Course not!” he yells once again.

“Hey,” I try again. “Billy, pull over.”

“Where? And anyway, you’d be late for your flight.”

Maybe he really does need reassurance. Who knew such a beautiful man could be bothered by concerns of the ego, just like the rest of us. “Hey. I don’t want to go, ok? Know that, ok?”

“Yeah, ok.” So unconvincing. Maybe he really didn’t go to theatre school.

“Billy! Come back this instant!” I use Ma’s voice, cuz maybe that’ll work on him like it works on me.

“Where do you think I am?”

“Behind your face!” I exclaim.

Tables? Turned.

“Ha. Ha.” He looks annoyed. He’s annoyed with me.

I decide some hand-holding might make a difference. He holds on tight.

I bring his hand to my mouth and brush my lips across the fingers. “I hate when people use this line, but I’m using it anyway. You can’t get rid of me that easy. Meh. Takes at least a round of antibiotics to affect that kind of change.”

“Ok,” he whispers.

“You know, maybe it’s a good idea that we have some alone time. I mean, it’s been an insane 24 hours.”

“Yeah,” he answers.

“Maybe we need to process,” I offer.

“Yeah,” he answers.

Wow, his mopes are just as epic as mine. We are going to have to talk about this. Eventually. Probably.

But for now, “I’m really not psyched about leaving, just so you know. I’d keep you in bed all day and all night, leaving Vittorio in the dark, so you lose your job and have to come back to New York with me. It’s all part of my sinister plot.” I lick his palm and finally get a snort.

“Animal, that’s what you are!” He can’t help cracking a smile.

“What’s this really about?” I ask quietly.

He lets the silence stretch on, but I can tell he’s just formulating an answer.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits. “When are yeh goin back? Like, leaving-leaving. For real.”

“I dunno, actually. I have thought about it a couple times. But every time, I just banish the thought. It’s a terrible idea. Going home.”

“Why?”

I roll my eyes quietly. “You know why.”

“Oh,” he says, a little pink emerging on his cheeks.

“Oh, what?”

“Just…good.” His voice is a little bit like cracked pavement. It’s been through an ordeal and now it’s got fissures. “I don’t want this to be over the day it started. It’s not enough time.”

“Facts,” I echo. And I decide that, since there will be no quickie, I should scoot a little closer and lick a stripe up his neck.

His nostrils flare as he sucks in a breath. I test the plumpness of an earlobe with my teeth. His hands grip the wheel more tightly, knuckles whitening.

“Simon,” he says in a warning tone. But I just peel one hand off the wheel and suck on a finger. Not something I’ve done a million times before. Just seemed like a good idea.

“Giving me a highway handy is…” He takes a deep breath. “…is just going to get us killed. But sucking on my fingers is good. Go on ahead doin that, if you still feel like it.”

I giggle. He sounds full of, um, I guess, affection? And that’s how my chestal region feels. Affection. Affected. But the rest of me is definitely feeling his fingers with my tongue.

————/Billy/————

Why is my heart pounding so hard in my chest? It’s…

I literally feel unable to speak at the moment. I’ve barely registered the fact that I've been sat here at the curb and there’s a busy airport in front of me. All I really have in my head is motion and colour.

I’m still stuck on the seconds before Simon walked away. He took my face in both his hands and pressed his forehead to mine. My mind’s been constantly racing around madly, lookin for something concrete to cling to ever since he… And the ferocity we had in holding onto each other, hard. Breathin together.

He could tell something was wrong, which clearly means I have to be better. Try harder. I’m slipping, and that way lies madness. Depending on people. Countin on ‘em. “You need to be better than that, Delaney. Control yerself, yeh great eejit. Then just breathe. Just breathe.”

A car’s horn sounds behind me, and I realize that it’s been over twenty minutes since Simon got out the car and walked away. That horn startled the fuck out of me. I don’t think taking up prime curbside is the most considerate thing I could do.

Pullin out.

Red light, Billy, red light. Am I permitted to turn right on red here? I have to pull over again. It’s just

My head feels woolly and I’m staring into space, rather than the road.

“What are yeh playin at, Delaney. Just look at the state of yeh. Mind on the road. Mind on the road!”

And I never even got to kiss him. Find out how he tastes.

Um. “I need a pint.”

I really need a pint.

And someone who speaks the way I do. Kieran, and that’s yer man. Kieran. He’ll pull me a pint while talkin like an Irishman would do.

Pint.

Pint, Billy, pint.

A Guinness it’ll be. Something thick, something a bit like a coffee milkshake had sudsy sex with the darkest of darkest beer.

“Black Rose it is, then,” I sigh the sigh of a thousand parched men.

Dissociation. That’s the term. Disappearing behind your face a while, starin out into the middle distance. The void. It’ll make a man’s face go slack, leavin him looking forlorn for all the world to see, and none the wiser for it.

I feel heavy. Like I’ve gained a stone in weight and all it wants to do is compress and compress and compress me until I’m naught more than a crushed can of Fosters.

Lady Madonna, children at her feet. (Especially Irish and Italian children, because we’re all catholic.) Maria’s voice has led me to the right place, but she can’t be bothered to make me stand and go in.

My body feels odd. Like it’s only partially awake.

“Guinness.” It’ll fix what ails yeh. Because Guinness is good for you. Truth in advertising! All the vitamins and grains a lad could ever want in a meal. Consider it room temperature barley and hops soup. So thick you could chew it if yeh liked. Oh lord yes.

“Guinness. Motivation.” I’ve parked Lola in holy Maria’s recommended parking zone.

I gots to shake this off. No use dragging others down with me. I tense and release, tense and release until the body wakes up, and I can shake off this… whatever it is I’m feelin at the moment.

“Shake it off, buddy. It’ll be all right. All right? Shake it off. Get your head in the game.” I even give it a physical try, shaking it off like a dog shrugging off fleas. You can’t really see them, but they’re there and they’ll drive that dog mad with memories. “It’s going to be all right.”

I promise myself it’ll be all right.

Game face.

————/-/————

I clear the door, and already Kieran’s callin me over. “Billy! Howeyeh?”

“Couldn’t stay away, mate.” I like this guy. I mean, not in that way. Oh lord, I need a pint. “What’s the craic?”

“The craic is what’s at the bottom of a pint.”

“And what’s at the bottom of a pint?” I’m askin.

“Another pint.”

Laughin, I promise him, “Truer words. I’m gonna borra that, and fair warnin.”

“Free to use as fit to use,” he nods. “You’re one for Budvar, that right?”

“Ta, mate. But for tonite, a Guinness, and do us a favor, mate. Keep ‘em comin. Don’t let my glass stand empty. Just keep ‘em comin til I’ve drunk the lot. It’s been one a them sort a days, d’you know what I mean.”

I’m numb. That’s what it is. I recognize it. It’s this sort of blankness. I can’t think clearly, and the clock ticks along too slowly.

I’m hollow. It feels empty here in the space beneath my rib cage.

Each good Irishman knows his way round sadness, givin it its own familiar pet name, inviting it in to sit a spell and make itself comfortable by the fire, spot o tea, givin it a room to sleep in, then devourin it, swallowin the pieces down whole.

Right, Delaney. Back in the game, back in the game.

Checkin my reflection in the mirror, I look well enough. I’ve had no comments tossed my way, such as the favorites: “Are you ok?” “What’s wrong?” And the worst of the lot, “Is there anything I can do?” Fuck that.

Posture up, Delaney. Slap a smile on yer face, and not a one will have a clue. No clues, none the wiser. Breathe. Deep breaths.

I scan the place. “Nice one, Barry’s here. I’ll shout him his next, yeah?” I can see him down t’other end of the bar tryin it on with a beautiful Italian girl - who, apparently, can’t understand whatever it is he’s tryin to say. She rolls her eyes and leaves him standin there gawping.

The man could likely use a hand.

“Save me Barry!” I shout full throated down the length of the bar.

Up snaps his head in confusion. When he finally spots me, his face splits into a wide smile. “Billy?”

“Melonfucker! If it isn’t that bastard Barry. Cuff ‘im and bring ‘im here, he owes me money!”

“Melonfucker?” Kieran asks, as Barry’s takin his place next to me at the bar.

“I loved my mother. Just can’t bring myself to say the real thing. But sometimes a man just needs that many syllables in an expletive. So, melonfucker it is. Howeyeh? All right, man?”

“Yes,” Barry answers with an elfin crinkle to his eyes, like the whole world is smilin back at him.

“What are you on, mate?” I ask, givin his arm a nudge.

He looks at his shoes a second, and smoothes the top of his hair. Then, with a conspiratorial look, “Just a little high. Just a little. W-want a hit?”

“What sort o’hit we talkin ‘bout here?” I clarify.

“Here,” and he passes me a thin little spliff.

“Um, Kieran? This ok with yeh, mate?” I ask, cos there’s not a lot o pubs as would be fine with this.

Kieran shrugs a shoulder, and Barry grins a bit harder when I take it.

“Never have been to Wales, Barry, tell me all about it.” I make m’self comfortable. Might could do with a bit of Barry’s amicable blandness while I’m so messed up about what I got up to last night.

Huh.

First time it’s come to mind that it’s not just Simon leavin as has me messed up. It’s also what we got up to. In every detail of what we got up to. I’m feelin messed up, and more besides.

I am. I don’t want to be. But I am.

I pass the spliff back to Barry.

It all happened so suddenly, and so intensely. And then poof, he’s gone. Feel as though I’ve been hit by the bus for Sorrento.

Shitting my pants, more like. What the fuck?! I can’t just, I mean it was, like, last night. And this morning. And here I am, at a-

If I can just have a couple nonsensical, nothin-serious nights. Maybe gettin really drunk. Dunno, it could happen. Barry passes the joint back to me, and I fill my lungs.

I mean, if Simon doesn’t come back, at least I’ve found my local. “I’m shoutin this round, mate. Nah, Barry. Don’t argue with me, just let me buy yous a fuckin beverage, Beverly.”

————/-/————

“What’s up wit you, you mopey fuck?” Kieran bumps my arm. I’m lookin at the clock and think I must’ve been starin into space a while, cos it’s suddenly 2 hours into the evening.

“Because we’re men. And the moment called for it,” I raise my pint and chuckle to myself. Appears Kieran has no answer for that.

I like it when I’m stoned and then the alcohol kicks in. It’s that point between tipsy and toppling to the dirt, when the two substances race to catch up with each other. So, not quite soused, but yet still very much on the verge of being oh so very fucked up.

“Hammered. Tanked. These are words my American friend uses at times like these. Or times like 4 shots from now.” Probly just snorted again. Can’t help it and don’t want to.

“It’s early, yet.” Kieran points to the glowing bar clock. It shows half six. “Slow it down a bit maybe.”

“Oh, I’m going bit by bit tonight,” I promise him. “D’you know what I mean, like appreciating each and every single hop and barley as it goes down.”

“Not quite what I was goin for, but-“

“Sure’n the last 24 hours wasn’t at all what we was goin for,” I mutter to myself. “But happened all the same.”

“What was that?” Barry leans closer. “Didn’t hear you.”

I take a long, slow breath and shrug, “Sorry, just an old song I used to know.”

Kieran and Barry are doin some sort of silent conversatin with their eyebrows, while I polish off this pint. I’ve always envied that kind of telepathy between friends. But they can’t compete with our eye caterpillars. “The two of yous make a cute pair.”

Um…

Wait. Did I- “Wait a tick, that came out wrong. Not like you’re a couple or- Em, I meant cute, like mates are cute.” Fuck, Delaney, shut your mouth’n stop talkin out of it.

They’re lookin at me with concern, and no small wonder. I’ve caught a babbling case of simonitis. Spreads with repeated contact. Another reason to wear a condom, younglings. Wrap that shit up.

Kieran leans his forearms on the bar. “Right, like I said before, what’s up with you? You don’t seem like the same man what come in two nights past.”

It’s true. “I’m not. The same man as was here two days ago. Fuck me, that’s a weird thought to try and swallow.”

Kieran looks at me like a mother hen would do. “Billy? Where you stayin mate?”

“Don’t know. Sleep it off in the car or something. It’ll work itself out.”

He doesn’t much like my answer, nor is he impressed with my lackadaisical delivery.

“You’ll sleep at mine,” says Kieran, waving away my arguments. “You could do with a kip, couldn’t you. Is all I’m sayin.”

“You’ve only just met me. You don’t barely know me, either, man.” It’s just plain fact. He doesn’t, does he.

“I know well enough. Remindin me of myself, you are. Myself in darker days.”

Ah, misery loves company. “Oh right? You’ve had somebody like that come along, have you?”

“Like what?” asks Barry, sounding confused.

“Like yesterday.” I almost slosh Guinness into my eye, gesturing with my pint in an animated fashion. “Like yesterday you were one person, and now today, you’re not. You’re nearly certain it’s down to a person or thing and then that came along and now it’s not.”

“Not what?” Barry’s lookin worried. “Was he making sense before?”

“Acourse I was,” I say. “That’s an easy question. You’ll need to throw me a harder one than that, Beverly.”

“All right, then-” Barry begins.

But not fast enough to beat Kieran’s “Who is she? Where’d you meet her?”

“Oh it’s like that, is it. Go on why don’t yeh, Cupid, yeh wee blighter. Straight to the heart of it. Well I’ll tell yeh, lads. Nobody I didn’t already know.”

Kieran ‘hmmmm’s thoughtfully, takin my measure as though I’m a puzzle for solvin.

“I don’t know, it’s a bit like,” and I scrunch my shoulders as I look for the words. “And then it’s too late. You know it’s gonna happen but you don’t know when. You have no idea, and you make the first move! You!” I point right at Kieran for emphasis.

“And then you’re a totally different person, am I right?” I nod my head. “You lot are here with me, the one that I am now. Before, it was me, before me now.”

“Quite the philosopher,” says Kieran, wiping down a glass with a funny expression. He should write it on the bathroom wall, like all the best bar poets do.

I need to make a toast.

“Gentlemen, a toast. To you two gentlemen.” They hold their pints aloft. “For bein there then and here now. Thanks for helpin me work through this. I think I just needed to say it out loud. And now I have. Thanks, lads,” I smile at them, and throw an arm over Barry’s shoulder like we’re old mates. “I needed an ear. Or four,” I chuckle.

Somehow they both get that this is genuine. Which is good. Yes. Good.

——/-/————

“Right, it’s better that I tell everyone knows so that I’m a little drunk. Just for being responsible purposeness, yeah? I mean they deserve to know. I’m sure they’ll be all right with it.”

“Who?” asks Kieran.

“Remind me, Billy,” says Barry. “How long did you say you’ve been in this situation?”

“What’s that? I didn’t. Say, I mean.”

The world is making this, “wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-wah-wah” sound. “I feel like I’m on drugs. Why do I feel like I’m on drugs? Ohhhh, it feels like nitrous. Wah-wah-wah-wah.” I look up and I have no idea what I just said or why. “Hi. Heya.” Wait, that’s not Simon. Hm, when’s he supposed to be here? I’m looking around for him. He’s not spottable at the mo. But I *think* he’ll be here right now. Right? “I’m confused.”

“Yes,” says Kieran. “Yes, you are.” He hands me a pint of ice water. Quite refreshing really.

“Billy,” says Barry, smoothing his hair in that nervous gesture of his. “So you’re with- um, that man Simon? His boyfriend.”

I snarf my beer. Not out my nose, saints preserve us. “Boyfriend? Um. Er. That’s um. That’s. Why do you say that?” I am definitively taken off guard. And so bluntly. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.

“What, aren’t you?” asks Kieran.

“What - boyfriends?” I can feel my chin still falling toward the floor. They can tell it’s an honest reaction, so now it’s even more awkward.

Redirect. “There’s a song I need to hear. Is there something that will make that happen?”

They both look pretty taken aback. Cultural social lesson for the future. Thou shalt not dj.

“What’re yeh thinking?” Kieran asks.

“Just one song. But you must make an oath you’ll make everyone sing, or it’s worthless.”

Kieran thinks that’s funny. But also odd. He shrugs, “Which one is it?”

“Don't be laughin at me for bein trite, it being Bono and the lads, but I need Beautiful Day. Like you don’t even know.”

It comes on, and Kieran hollers, “Alright you lot! You know the words! Let your grandad hear us in Galway.” Happily, everyone yells some variation of “ok,” but it all sounds like “fuck yeah” to me.

All in all, it works out pretty well. “You thought you found a friend to take you out of this place. Someone you can lend a hand, in return for grace. It’s a beautiful day.” That sounds about right. Next thing I know, the chorus riles em up and there’s a great amount of beer-sloshing to dodge.

“It’s a beautiful day. Don’t let it get away.” But I did. I let it get away. Aaaaand now, despite an entire pub of folk practically shoutin about beauty, I’m depressed.

Me? Depressed? When I’m this drunk? Not likely. I snort. That’s just bonkers. A scoff is the best that thought deserves. And maybe a Bushmills.

“Bushmills on the rocks, Jeeves.”

“You from up in the North then?” Kieran asks. “Don’t much sound it.”

“Spent some time there.” Redirect, and anyway, I’m curious. “Why am I so high?”

Barry turns his implish little face to me, and passes me a fresh spliff.

————/-/————

‘Baby, I’m wasted. All I wanna do is drive home to you. Baby, I’m faded. All I wanna do is hm hm hmtown. Baby, hm’sumthin, sumthin sumthin la la la, beep boop beep-boop.

“Reckon I like this pub. Ye Olde Black Rose. La Rosa Nera in Italiano,” I say to no one in particular. “Sometimes it’s good to just make a declarative statement, know what I mean.”

“I heard that declarative statement, and I thank you mate,” Kieran gives a big-hearted grin. Which has now refocused over my shoulder. “Barry, you goodfornuttin. Harp? Budvar? Harp?”

“I don’t like Bud very much,” says Barry, the strange little man. He speaks in that halting, almost nervous way of his. He also frequently speaks in declarative statements, which most people shy away from, by and large. I’ve decided I like that about him.

“Don’t yeh dare be askin me fer a Black and Tan,” Kieran warns. “Try sayin something like our Billy here, makin a strong declarative statement bout how well he enjoys our fine drinkin establishment.”

“And I do, at that,” I affirm. “‘Cept, maybe the clientele are a bit, well, y’know…” and I balance my hand side to side.

Kieran gives me a dry smile and passes Barry his pint, allowin me a moment to down another shot of tequila.

Wonder what a Welshman’s doin down Mediterranean way. They’re a cold water lot. “You livin here, then, Barry? This your local?”

“Yes, I do. And y-yes, it is.”

I decide we need to get some facts straight. I announce, “Now, I’m not one for swallowin, but-” and halt my progress. I’ve suddenly gone blank. “Wait. What was we talkin bout?”

“How far into your night are you, Billy?” Kieran asks instead of answering. That’s Irish Barkeep for, ‘Seems like you might’a had more drink than you can handle, Billy.’ “What sort of day you have, mate? I’ve seen a face or two like yours is now.”

I’ve no doubt he has done, bein a bartender and such.

“My day.” I try to laugh, but all I emit is a snort and a burble. Way too much goin on in my head. Too much goin away on planes. Too much touch. Too much of the way he smells. Too much suckin on fingers. Just far, far too much o’ life to hold in one head alone.

What was we talkin bout? Oh…holdin my drink. “Are yous lot aware that I am an Irishman? Yes, yes you are.” I wait for encouragement to continue. “How could yeh dare to impugn my honour thinkin I don’t know how t’hold my drink.? Yeh think they’da let me outta Ireland if I couldna hold my drink? Embarrassment to my country, kin and kind.”

The room spins. “What was we talkin bout? I feel like they’re right there just beyond me,” I sigh.

“What’s right there?” Barry asks.

“Words, man. Words!” Then I remember something else, too: “Beer!”

“What happened, Barry?” Kieran stands in front of him, wipin down the counter, talkin low so they think I can’t hear. “All I did was walk a few steps to help those two lovely ladies, then back again to find we’ve reached nothin but babble. It’s like we’re only getting one side of the conversation. You farin any better than that?”

“Am I?” Barry asks in surprise. “No,” he says emphatically.

“Well, lads,” I step in. “Here’s the truth. I did have a, uh, night last night.”

I wait for some signal that they heard and understood me. They did, so I continue.

“Here’s the thing. I was out with someone. Someone I’ve, em, y’know, been talkin to. But we was only ever mates. Ever. Never figured for more than that, know what I mean. But suddenly, somethin happens and boom, everything in my life is unrecognizable to me now.” I might could’ve turned a tad morose in my old age. “It felt like everything I’ve ever wanted.” Lovely. Another sentence out my mouth without originatin in my brain. “But with hi- them? Never, ever occurred to me. Not once!”

“Looked so fuckin fit, d’you know what I mean? Dancin that way and all I could do was watch. You know? Just watch. But then everything I wanted became mine,” I continue. “I had it all in my hands, and I wasn’t wastin a moment of that time on ‘what if’ and shyness. I mean lads, I think you know me well enough by now. Don’t yeh?”

They both nod emphatically.

“I wake up. Both of us wake up and can’t keep our hands…our…” I sigh. “The desire was there. It was just — everywhere. Can barely keep from havin a horn everywhere I go. But, like, it’s different when something that might be real is on the line. Know what I mean.”

Again, they nod emphatically.

“I just-“ Spit it out, kid. “I mean-“ Not doin much better. Out with it. “I just don’t want to go back to how it was before. Friends. I want to level up. And that, lads, is some deeply terrifying shit.” I can feel my eyes widen. “Maybe not for some, but that’s the way of it for me.”

I stare at my reflection in the bar mirror. I still look like me, even knowin all that transpired. I can’t have changed that much. I don’t look horrified. Which is good. But a bit stressed? That I am. And maybe a whole lot worried. My eyes look distinctly hollow and haunted. “It was so good,” I mumble.

“She’ll be back, mate. The girls love you,” Kieran grins conspiratorially at Barry, then back to me. “I bet you can’t beat em back with ennathin but your stick, know what I mean. Can’t keep ‘em off you, can you?”

“I have no response to that question,” I laugh. “It’s true. I know I’m a man whore, for certain, it’s true. But it might be I’m a one-man man whore.”

And the room sets itself to spinnin.

————/-/————

Masterlist || ao3 || Prev || Next wip!

————/-/————

*Helena Handbasket is one of the very best characters TJ Klune has ever written. And now I’ve adopted Ms. Handbasket as my favorite expletive. It’s a phase. Meanwhile, you should drop everything and go read the first 2 books in the At First Sight series. (Tell Me It’s Real, then The Drag Queen and the Homo Jock King.) I basically created Simon from the afterglow of that series. Go forth and discover TJ Klune. Right now. Go.

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midnightsaboteur · 1 month

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Open Starter

Jayson Masters - 29, pansexual, safecracker

Written solely in beta editor

Connection Ideas - Fellow gang member or superior; rival gang member; independent criminal; S/O; affair; fwb; casual hookup

As a safecracker, Jayson’s work took him all over the world. Whether for the criminal organisation to whom he’d dedicated most of his career, or the lucrative side gigs that cropped up occasionally and paid so well, Jayson had seen many locales and committed crimes in them all. However, at certain times, travel lacked lustre. Having spent periods of the previous year based in Monte Carlo, Vegas and the Amalfi Coast, the prospect of spending weeks and possibly months ‘laying low’ in rural Oregon took the shine right off Jayson’s mood.

If travel proved to be one problem, though, he had an other right before him as he looked between the beautiful figure and the safe they stood next to. Behind the thick metal door and the intricate lock lay certain valuables. From the explanation the other person gave him and the glint in their eyes, Jayson knew they’d open the safe, one way or another. It just depended on how much he wanted to risk incurring the wrath of those who owned the valuables inside.

After a few moments of silence, Jayson sighed and then spoke. “I mean, I can open it… that’s not the issue here,” he began, rubbing his chin with his finger as he spoke, mulling over the moral dilemma in his mind as much as he thought about how he’d crack the safe. “The issue is what’s gonna happen if the organisation find out you and I helped ourselves to what’s inside that safe. They’re already keeping me lying low here. I’m already technically on the run. I don’t fancy being on the run two times over, no matter how much… well, no matter if you and I are sleeping together.”

#indie smut starter #indie smut rp #open rp starter #indie kink rp #open starter #starter: jayson masters #/open to mutuals or non!

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thepercy6andtheradicalsabbatical · 11 months

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Father’s Day Pianillo to Pompei

We awoke the next day and Matt and Becca attempted a quick local trail run but the trail quickly became overgrown and fizzled out. We salvaged the run by turning it into a loop on some tiny local roads. Then we went home and cleaned/packed. Matt had not realized we would be trying to leave on Sunday when originally booking the lodging and agreed with the airbnb host that “Sunday is difficult” for local travel after researching it a little (somehow Matt keeps sticking us in small towns on Sundays when everything shuts down) and realizing several busses he was counting on don’t run on Sundays only. However, he had pieced together a plan that started with taking the bus to Amalfi and then looking at ferry/bus options from there. We headed to pizzeria nando a few minutes before scheduled arrival and noted that there was already a couple waiting with large suitcases for the bus (which we think was the last for the next 4 hours). It arrived only a few minutes late and we noted it was already standing room only but were able to squeeze on. The driver continued to pack people on for a few more stops then started blowing by stops shaking his finger at people waiting and giving the palms up “we’re full, what do you want me to do about it” gesture. We then made our way down the same hairpin turns we’d come up the day before, again with the honking before barreling around tight turns. The bus driver was surprisingly good at monitoring bus space and if a few people got off would then stop at a few stops until we were full again. The more people waiting, the more likely he was to blow by the stop. We made it to Amalfi with no traffic jams and were glad to get off the crowded bus. We set down the pile of bags by the benches in the shade and Matt walked off to explore ferry ticket options. Plan #1 was to try to get a ferry to Sorrento if available and not crazy expensive as it seemed like the train would be easier from there. Back up plan was to make it to Salerno on a ferry. Last resort plan was to try and make it to either place on a bus. A father’s day miracle occurred and they said that the ferry to Sorrento was actually leaving “right now” (which turned out to be about 50 min after its scheduled departure), so Matt grabbed tickets and ran back to tell everyone we were going now to the ferry. We ended up being the last ones on the ferry which was very empty and set out enjoying views of Positano and the distal tip of the peninsula before hooking around into Sorrento. We’d heard from several people that they really liked Sorrento so were fired up to see it and Matt requested they do some beach time there as his father’s day wish. Unfortunately, all of the beaches were private (other than a “public” beach that was for locals only) and every single one of them said they were completely full for the day…so we decided to bag it and train to our aribnb digs near Pompei. Thankfully the host let us check in early so we dropped stuff and then decided to walk to the beach, which was about a mile away (another fatherly request by Matt). We made it with only moderate kid whining and it turned out to be a very cool (if a bit dirty) beach. By Mediterranean beach standards this one was very long and wide and sandy. We had fun jumping in for a bit, then walked along the beach another mile or so to downtown Castellamarre where we had hoped to get some food to cook at home…however it seemed all grocery stores we could find on google were closed (Sundays!!!!). We happened upon a restaurant called “family” and tried to get a table, but they told us they were only doing take out pizza due to it being sunday so we opted for that and it turned out to be delicious and filling all for the low price of 11.50 euros total! We then walked back towards the train and planned to get gelato en route. We couldn’t find gelato, but did find a nice open grocery store so picked up some ice cream bars there as well as some other snacks for the following day. We then hopped on the train home and hit the hay.

Overall I think the naples/amalfi/pompei area was our least favorite part of italy with naples/pompei feeling pretty grungy and amalfi/sorrento being nice but super pricey and crowded. However note to those reading or our future selves that we thought Castellamarre di Stabia would've been an ideal base camp there as the beach was decent, pizza was tasty and we think you could take easy day trips to sorrento/amalfi/pompei.

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dollycas · 8 months

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Cozy Wednesday featuring Murder in an Italian Village (A Bria Bartolucci Mystery) by Michael Falco #Review / #Giveaway @KensingtonBooks

Welcome to Cozy Wednesday! I am featuring Murder in an Italian Village by Michael Falco today!

Murder in an Italian Village (A Bria Bartolucci Mystery) Cozy Mystery 1st in Series Setting - Amalfi Coast, Italy Kensington Cozies (September 26, 2023) Hardcover ‏ : ‎ 384 pages ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1496742133 ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1496742131 Kindle ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0BRF2BXJ3

Set in beautiful Positano, Italy, the debut of a cozy mystery series featuring a widowed B&B owner who discovers a body in one of her bedrooms before opening day! On the surface, Bria’s Mediterranean life radiates beauty—the kind her late husband, Carlo, dreamed about when he concocted the romantic idea to start a bed and breakfast on the breathtaking Amalfi Coast. With the grand opening of Bella Bella approaching six months after Carlo’s tragic death, Bria and her eight-year-old son Marco brace for a bittersweet new beginning by the sea . . . Before celebratory vino flows on opening day, a stranger appears in an otherwise pristine guest room, lifeless and covered in blood. Bria can’t understand why murder would check into Bella Bella. And police are just as puzzled. As suspicions fall on a B&B employee, what’s certain is that saving her reputation—and surviving—depend on catching the real killer before it’s too late. Flanked by her feisty best friend, Rosalie, and well-traveled sister, Lorenza, Bria vows to prove to everyone in Positano that no one at Bella Bella was involved with the crime. But as the women expose a scandal that stretches across their dazzling tourist village, it will take everything they’ve got to name the murderer and avoid becoming the next target of someone’s deadly vendetta . . . Dollycas's Thoughts Welcome to Positano, Italy right on the Amalfi Coast. Carlos Bartolucci's dream was to open Bella Bella Bed & Breakfast with his wife Bria, their son Marco, along with their dog Bravo. But Carlos died a tragic death six months ago. Now Bria is ready to follow his dream without him. She has hired a handyman, Giovanni, to help with the jobs that would have been Carlos's tasks. Bria, Marco, and Bravo have been welcomed into the community and made many friends. After walking Marco to school just days before the B&B's grand opening Bria returns home to find a stranger lying on a bed in one of the guest rooms dead and covered in blood. She has no idea who he is, how he got there, why he was killed, or who did it. Police are fixated on Giovanni but Bria can't believe he committed the crime. To save the reputation of her business and her handyman Bria teams up with her sister Lorenza and her friend Rosalie to prove to everyone that Giovanni is innocent by exposing the real killer before she becomes the next victim. Bria is an interesting protagonist but I was a little concerned about her actions regarding the opening of the B&B. I would have expected her to be busy getting everything ready for the opening. It was stated several times that guests would be arriving soon but I don't recall her taking one phone call or receiving an email or referring to an online booking site. She talked about trying out breakfast recipes but she doesn't do much baking. Giovanni is fixing a few things but not urgently like the grand opening is happening soon. We read about her taking her son to school every day and the nun there playing with the dog. She is an attentive mother and that's a good thing but I assume she is going to be busy with guests in the mornings once she is open and I didn't see how she was going to address this. Maybe it is just the laid-back Italian way of doing things but it felt strange to me. The character needs more definition and development. I know it is hard to introduce all the core characters and develop them in a worthwhile way when a series is just starting out. I hope we get to know them all better as the series continues. The mystery was intriguing. Who was this man? Why was killed? Why at Bella Bella? The author served up some red herrings but in places the story really dragged. It felt like clues were dropped almost as an afterthought. Bria did have some good sleuthing skills and was able to ferret out some great secrets, which moved the story along and at times made her mother-in-law livid. The reveal was surprising and entertaining. I did enjoy the way everything was explained at the end but something about it just felt off. I loved the beautiful setting of this book. The author helped me escape to the Amalfi Coast with his words. I am on the fence about the snippets of Italian throughout the book because I do not speak the language. I was able to understand the meanings and many times the phrase was followed by the English words but it really messed up the flow of the story. The author does provide a glossary at the end of the book but referring to it constantly would have been even worse. Italian is a beautiful language and I know the author was using it to bring the location to life, but he had done that already with English words. Murder in an Italian Village has some good bones. The setting is idyllic and I enjoyed my virtual visit. But I want to get to know the characters better and feel more engaged by them. The story could use some editing in places to tighten things up and make it flow better. I am curious to see how Bria's life changes when the B & B is open and filled with a variety of guests. It is a familiar theme for a cozy mystery series but the location sets this series apart.

Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent

About the Author Michael Falco is a graduate of New York University and has studied at Playwrights Horizons and Gotham Writers Workshop. He currently lives in Secaucus, NJ, where he is working on the next Bria Bartolucci Mystery.

Thanks to the publisher I have 1 ARC copy to give away! The contest is open to anyone over 18 years old with a US or Canadian mailing address. Duplicate entries will be deleted. Void where prohibited. You do not have to be a follower to enter but I hope you will find something you like here and become a follower. Followers Will Receive 2 Bonus Entries For Each Way They Follow. Plus 2 Bonus Entries For Following My Facebook Fan Page. Add this book to your WANT TO READ shelf on GoodReads for 3 Bonus Entries. Follow Kensington Books on Twitter for 2 Bonus Entries! Follow Kensington Publishing on Facebook for 2 Bonus Entries! Pin this giveaway to Pinterest for 3 Bonus Entries. If you share the giveaway on Twitter or Facebook or anywhere you will receive 5 Bonus Entries For Each Link. The Contest Will End October 11, 2023, at 11:59 PM CST The Winner Will Be Chosen By Random.org The Winner Will Be Notified By Email and Will Be Posted Here In The Sidebar. Click Here For Entry Form Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. Receiving a complimentary copy in no way reflected my review of this book. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.” Read the full article

#cozymystery #Italy #Kensington #MichaelFalco #NetGalley

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wonderingwendy · 1 year

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May 17, 2023 and lots to wonder about. I wondered about why there’s been development on the Amalfi coast given its inaccessibility - was it the monks, did it start with a port at Sorrento and expand?

In brief, the Greeks favoured it because the rock formations appeared to be home to their mythical gods/creatures, the Roman nobles used it as a vacation getaway, then the Amalfians became rivals to Venetians for ship making and exploration to the East - hence why Amalfi was known for paper making. Earthquakes and a multi year plague shut everything down in the 14th century and it wasn’t until the king in Naples ordered the construction of a road in the 19th century that the Amalfi coast became primarily a vacation destination again. And it’s a popular one for sure.

We visited during early May with terrible weather and wondered how crowded the summer season in sunshine could get. In any case, we were happy to be tucked away up in our villa in Pogerolo except when we had to make a plan to leave in bad weather.

Given that it was forecasted to continue pouring rain, we left Villa Maria via taxi rather than boat or bus and had a very skilled driver take us to Salerno. We all wondered about their background as a local who spoke little English, knew everyone and every turn enroute - we even saw where their mommy and poppy lived. Best €140 ever spent.

In Salerno, we replenished our cash, recovered from carsickness, bought more train tickets and even found the right track for our fast train leaving at 3 pm which arrived late not surprisingly for Italian trains. As a result we missed our connection, delaying our arrival into Tropea until after 9 pm. We followed the cute little sidewalk lit route and met Katarina at Don Carlos rooms. She and her partner airbnb three quaint rooms in his grandfather’s building with a gorgeous roof top terrace for breakfast.

The next morning, Tropea did not disappoint with sunshine, turquoise water and rock cliffs.

It is still recovering economically from multiple earthquakes and tourism is definitely helping.

We had a train booked for 4 pm but given yesterday’s delay, we left on a earlier train but not before grabbing a local arancini ball each (mine was red onion stuffed) and tasting tartufo, a stuffed gelato ball rolled in a coating (we shared a very sweet chocolate one). I won’t say anymore but neither dish is likely to be repeated.

We spent an interesting two hours in Villa S. Giovanni awaiting our train ferry to Sicily. The guys watched the traffic chaos near the port while Denise and I shopped for breakfast and snack basics as we were again arriving in Taormina around 10 pm.

I wondered about taking the train on a ferry - really?! But after watching our train loaded onto the ferry in two sections, we passed the time doing a crossword, eating snacks and maybe a tetrapak of wine was opened. It was a gorgeous nighttime taxi ride way up to our apartment on Leonardo da Vinci Drive.

#Tropea #ocean view #rock cliffs #train ferry

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kumeko · 1 year

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Title: the art of letting go

A/N: For the @anotherstepforwardzine! Hilariously, after writing this zine I actually ended up visiting Amalfi, so it’s funny seeing the ways I was right and wrong in my descriptions for this fic.

Summary: Shamir half regrets agreeing to hitch-hiking across Europe with Catherine—she liked plans, liked organization, and Catherine had never been that kind of traveller. Yet, she couldn’t deny there were some perks to travelling with her handsome roommate.

…

By the time Shamir and Catherine arrived in Amalfi, Italy, Shamir was tired and dusty. Hitchhiking across Europe sounded great in theory, when they’d poured over maps in their cramped shared apartment in New York. There was barely enough room there for them to stand, let alone breathe, and any way to save an extra cent (or euro) was a godsend.

It wasn’t like they had a real purpose in Europe; they’d just wanted to get away. Away from the stifling heat that their dying AC couldn’t handle. Away from the infinite crowds that lined their subway routes and the constant, sickly-sweet smell of sweat. Europe was the land of small countries and smaller people. No one ever complained about the heat in Switzerland.

Shamir wished she’d taken five seconds to think about everything before falling for Catherine’s speeches. Despite being an impulsive idiot, she was also oddly charismatic when she wanted to be, and she always wanted to be when she dragged Shamir into her plans. Shamir hadn’t even expected to live with her as long as she had; New York was supposed to be a side stop to bigger and better things, but sometimes life had other plans.

And now, life had conspired to bring her to Amalfi via the brig of some small-town lorry driver Catherine had befriended. Shamir glared at the truck as Catherine said her goodbyes to the sixty-year old driver from Kazakhstan. The woman’s smile was as broad as her heart, and despite the language barrier, she and the driver had laughed for the entire journey.

Shamir never wanted to hear Catherine laugh ever again.

A small honk filled the air and the driver pulled out. Still grinning, Catherine jogged over, her duffel bag slung over her large frame. Shamir had long suspected some Nordic ancestry in her companion; the woman was a giant, no matter where she went.

“See?” Catherine crowed, looking far too smug. “What’d I tell you? We got here quicker.”

“I’ll handle transportation next,” Shamir replied bluntly, rolling her head to get rid of the cricks. The ride was marginally better than a bus. Marginally. “And location. We’re not going to a tiny village in who knows where.”

“But that’s where all the fun is,” Catherine laughed, not looking the least bit ashamed or off-put. Shamir was certain the woman hadn’t been born with an ounce of humility or shame. “Everyone goes to the big cities, but the smaller ones are more fun. They’ve got the best bars.”

“Best? You just want some grimy dive, and you can find that in a big city just as easily as a small one,” Shamir countered, rubbing her shoulders. She glanced around the road they’d been dropped off on. Buildings crowded the street like jagged teeth. Streetlights glowed softly, casting a golden light on everything. In the twilight, the city had taken on a romantic look. “The hostel shouldn’t be too far, I think.”

Catherine snorted. “We’re not sleeping now. We can find that later.”

Shamir paused before looking up at Catherine in disbelief. Every part of her was tired; just where did this monstrous woman get her energy? “You can’t be serious. We’re not sight seeing now.”

She guffawed. The sound echoed in the streets. “Hell no. We’re getting a drink.”

“A drink.” Shamir wasn’t sure why she was surprised.

“Yeah, don’t you need one too?” And without waiting for a response, Catherine led the way, as confident as ever. She didn’t even know what street they were on. Didn’t know any of the stores hidden in the nooks and crannies of each alley. And yet, she walked like she knew her destination.

All things considered, Shamir should have just turned away. They’d get lost and drunk and she wasn’t in the mood to wake up in some park, disoriented and with a splitting headache. They were in their late twenties now; the time for partying was long over.

Yet, her feet refused to listen to her brain, and maybe Catherine had infected her long ago with her brash impulsiveness. It was the only reason Shamir could have even agreed to a trip with Catherine, as they were the worst companions in so many ways.

Like a bloodhound, Catherine found the seediest pub in town. It was an almost impressive talent. Shamir wrinkled her nose as she stepped inside, her senses immediately assaulted by the sharp scent of smoke and a dozen strong ales mixing together. There was an acidic smell beneath it all and she didn’t have to open the bathroom door to know what she’d find in there.

“Ciao,” the barman greeted, his dirty brown hair tied back in a rat-like ponytail. There were scars on his face, like he’d been in plenty of fights, and she wondered just how many were from running this pub.

Even the clientele looked rough. In the center, Shamir spotted a stocky blue-haired man smiling roguishly at his companion, a slender dark-haired man. In a corner, there was a raven-haired man, his shoulders tense, his narrow eyes sharply flicking to her before returning to his drink. Even the waiter, his ochre skin glowing warm in the dim light, eyed them suspiciously, as though ready for a fight.

“Got anything strong on the tap?” Catherine asked, immediately making a beeline for the bar. She dropped her bag carelessly on the ground.

The barman didn’t even hesitate before slipping into English. “Depends on how strong yer looking for.”

The accent didn’t surprise Shamir. The fact that it was Irish did. It was a pub full of misfits. No wonder Catherine had found it. Slipping next to her friend, she carefully set her bag in between her legs. If there was a pickpocket among the clientele, they’d find her to be a harder target than her companion.

Catherine grinned, resting her arms on the counter as she leaned closer. “Real strong. You’re not from around here either?”

“Came here just a few years ago.” The barman pulled out a glass and turned back to the row of bottles behind him. His fingers brushed their labels lightly before settling on one. “Not on tap, but I think you’ll like a grapa, then.”

“Is it strong?” she asked eagerly.

He smirked. “Very.”

“Great.” Catherine tapped the spot next to her. “And something boring for my friend.”

“Whisky,” Shamir interjected, before Catherine could order her something ridiculous. “On the rocks.”

“Got it.” The barman glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “What brings you two out here?”

“Vacation,” Catherine answered, her eyes on the prize as the barman finally placed her drink on the counter. In a rare show of self-restraint, she didn’t down it in one go. “Ohhh, nice.”

Shamir rolled her eyes. Every stranger between here and England knew of their trip at this point. Ignoring the banter, she picked up her own glass and turned around, leaning against the bar as she took in the rest of the bar. It wasn’t that late, but the traffic was still slow. Whatever reason this bar wasn’t popular, it wasn’t because of the drinks; a single sip, and Shamir sighed in satisfaction as the whisky relaxed her. Reluctantly, she had to admit that the alcohol did hit the right spot.

Even a stopped clock was right twice a day.

“So?” Catherine turned to her now, as though hearing Shamir’s thoughts. She always did have an uncanny knack for that. “Was I right or was I right?”

“It’s nice, but it would have been nicer with a hot shower and a bed.” Shamir had a policy for being honest, though something about Catherine tested that. Her friend’s head was too big as it was, and sometimes she had to knock her down a peg or two. Rolling the glass in her hand, she added, “We’re behind schedule.”

Catherine chortled. “It’s a road trip. There isn’t a schedule. Have you ever gone on vacation?”

“This is why you know nothing about the places you’ve gone to,” Shamir muttered, clicking her tongue. “You actually have to plan things. Besides, we can’t travel forever. Some of us have jobs to get back to after.”

“And you don’t have to get back for a while.” Catherine shook her head sadly. “It won’t kill you to relax.”

“And it won’t kill you to be serious.”

This wasn’t a serious fight by any stretch of the imagination. They’d had this argument—no, squabble—many times before. By now it was more of a habit than a discussion.

Catherine pursed her lips, thoughtfully staring at her drink. “Alright, how about this. You let go tonight, and I’ll follow your schedule tomorrow.”

Shamir regarded the proposition suspiciously. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Catherine grinned. “Not like I know much about this town anyways. You take the lead.”

Somehow, that didn’t feel like all of it. Still, there wasn’t much of a reason to reject the deal. Hesitantly, Shamir nodded. “Alright.”

“Great.” Catherine knocked back her drink in a single gulp and slammed the glass on the table. “Bring more shots over there.”

Shamir narrowed her eyes. “Over where—”

It was too late. Catherine sauntered off to the blue-haired stranger before Shamir could even finish the question. As he looked up at her, she gave a trademark cocky smirk and stated, “You look strong.”

The stranger appraised her and shot back an identical grin. “So do you.”

“Great.” Catherine pulled over a chair and leaned against the table. “Let’s see who’s stronger.”

Her opponent was already clearing out the table before she sat down. His green-haired friend sighed tiredly, picking up his mug and moving to another table. “Don’t break the bottles again. We’re broke, remember?”

Shamir felt a sympathetic bond with him. They didn’t have the money either. And what’s worse, the blue-haired man looked like the exact brand of idiot that a drunk Catherine was: brash and eager and quick to a challenge.

Catherine and the blue-haired man grasped hands, readying for an arm-wrestling match. She cracked her neck. “Let’s make this interesting. Loser drinks a shot.”

“You’re on!” her opponent answered, rolling back his shoulders. “But I get stronger when I’m drunk.”

“So do I.”

Shamir rubbed her forehead. Well, if this was going to be her night, then she might as well make it interesting…while getting some old-fashioned revenge. Standing next to the blue-haired man, she rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll bet $20 on him.”

Catherine laughed. “Your funeral, Shamir.”

Shamir shrugged and leaned down. “A tip.” She peeked up, enjoying Catherine’s surprised jaw drop. “She has an iron grip, but she’s really ticklish if you rub her knuckles.”

If Shamir was going to “let go” tonight, then she might as well take advantage of it.

#cathmir #shamir nevrand #catherine fire emblem #fe3h #shamir x catherine #fanfic

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