#Four Days of Naples

[courseyoulovemeyoudontknowme]

Le quattro giornate di Napoli (1962, Nanni Loy)

15/05/2024

[cicerenella]

my roman empire is knowing Romano guided the Italian army to victory during WW1 and absolutely obliterated Austria’s ass

[goncharovweek]

Welcome to Goncharov Week of November 2024!

As with any popular media, it needs a fandom week dedicated to it, so here we are to celebrate the greatest mafia movie (n)ever made. You know the drill, create some things and tag them #goncharovweek and it'll be reblogged over here! Have fun, please share, and starting officially on November 20th, let's go!

Text in images and typed prompt list:

first image:

11/20 Day One: Winter/ Naples

11/21 Day Two: Time/Passing

11/22 Day Three: In love/Shoot you

11/23 Day Four: Death/mercy

11/24 Day Five: Italy/Russia

11/25 Day Six: Marriage/Betrayal

11/26 Day Seven: Fate/FREE

second image:

Create art, writing, edits, and everything inbetween featuring characters and moments from the hit 1973 Scorsese film “Goncharov”, following the daily prompt!

Late submissions are accepted and there are no rules to what you can create.

Use the tag #goncharovweek for your post to be featured on this blog!

[honeygrahambitch]

So basically we had less than 48 hours in Florence because we thought that it would be worth it to spend four nights in Naples and only two in Florence :( it wasn't worth it, Naples is absolutely not my type of city. It was my second time in Florence and I'm already planning my next visit :(

So basically my family was like "You love Florence, you are in charge of whatever we do there."

So I absolutely took it seriously. Maybe a little bit too seriously. We visited so much stuff and ate so much in the little time we had that we are all dead. All while giving everyone the necessary Hannibal background of course.

Even the authorities learnt about it.

We were standing in front of the Medici palace (we visited it properly last year so we didn't know. It's the place where Jack and Hannibal fight in Contorno and where Hannibal kills Pazzi+ Hannibal meeting Anthony in the garden) and a guard was like "You can't get in." And my dad was like "We don't want to get in, we were here last year. Did you know Hannibal was filmed here?"

And the guard was like "..."

So yeah basically I will just add here the pictures that are relevant to Hannibal scenes.

(my post from last year was richer, I might repost it these days)

[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — THREE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART THREE: 6,9k words Author’s note: ngl I thought this was "too short", and then I saw it's around 7k and realized that maybe this isn't short, but the other parts are just "too long", lol. Clearly I can't control myself. But anyway, this is part three and Aurora and Harry (finally) arrive in Italy. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :)

PART ONE || PART TWO

As it turns out, both Aurora and Harry completely forgot about the one hour time change, so whilst they thought they'd arrive around eleven, by the time they landed in Naples it was actually a few minutes after 12. 

They realized, then, that since they would go together to Amalfi, sharing a taxi would be cheaper than taking the train — like they had both initially planned to do. Which is how Aurora ends up leaning against a white wall at arrivals, watching their bags while Harry wanders around and does some research for them. 

Outside, the day is bright and sunny, something she's been admiring non-stop through the huge glass wall in front of her. Rays of light keep the exposed skin in her arms and chest warm, so there's no need for her to wear Harry's jacket anymore — although a part of her wishes she still had a reason to, just to keep smelling his cologne. 

"Hey!" Harry calls, and Aurora turns her head to the side. 

He approaches her confidently, pulling his hair back and smiling while strutting through the airport as if he owns the place. It's kind of impossible not to follow every one of his movements, and she's pretty sure anyone who lays their eyes on him would think exactly the same. 

"It's done," he says, then raises both hands and gives her a double thumbs up. "Got us a taxi." 

Summer looks good on him. It makes his skin glow, it highlights his tattoos, and it makes his happiness seem… Well… Even happier. 

"Oh," she says, blinking and stepping away from the wall. "Great."

She clears her throat and glances to her phone, double-checking for the fiftieth time that her texts to Zack remain unanswered.

It's been over four hours since she texted him, and although she isn't surprised by his lack of interaction, she can't deny that it sucks to know he intentionally avoids replying to her texts — and that she probably won't hear from him until Sunday night, when he drops Noah off.

"No words from him yet?" Harry asks, now standing only a couple of steps across from her. 

Aurora shakes her head and locks the screen, then looks up and faces him again. 

"No… But hey," she says, offering him a sarcastic smile and fake enthusiasm as she adds, "if I'm lucky enough, maybe he'll pick up the phone tonight. Isn't that great?"

Harry pauses for a moment. 

And then he snorts. 

He flicks his gaze down and breathes in, filling his chest with air while taking one hand up to his face and rubbing his brow. 

"Jesus Christ," he murmurs and chuckles shakily, almost as if he can't believe what he just heard. 

Aurora feels herself softening in front of him, and her fingers itch to touch him somehow.

"I mean, it's okay," she says, tightening her phone inside her fingers and closing her other hand into a fist. "I knew this would happen when I decided to spend the weekend away."

Harry drops his hand to his side and shakes his head, then looks at her again. 

Bright, sunny, warm summer seemed to turn into dark, cold, empty winter around him. He's clearly tense, and the look in his eyes is heavier now. 

"For his sake," he says, voice sounding just as deep as she feels him in her bones. "I really hope he doesn't cross my way anytime soon."

It's unbelievable how quickly Aurora's mouth fills with water. As if she's salivating because of him. 

The way he soaks up her worries and eases her sadness is certainly endearing, but the way Harry physically reacts to this specific situation gets her nerves stirring. He seems to be ready to stand up for her. Ready to fight the battle for her. Ready to be her armor and shield her from all and any attacks that Zack throws at her. 

And as much as Aurora doesn't want things to get to that point, and as much as she isn't looking for that kind of attention from a man, the honest truth is that her insides respond too quickly to his behavior. Like she's craving for that aggressiveness. Or maybe like she's craving for someone to finally treat her the way she wishes to be treated. Someone who will throw a punch for her, and not at her. 

Even just metaphorically speaking. 

Aurora blinks, breaking away from the intensity of his stare as she hunches down and grabs her bag from the floor. She takes the opportunity to swallow all those new feelings down, hiding and locking them away, then stands upright again.  

"I appreciate that," she says, curling her lips into a smile. "But we're in Italy right now, so I think I'm ready to leave Zack behind. At least for two days."

Harry focuses on her for a moment, flickering his eyes all over her face. Studying her. Almost like he's making sure she is telling him the truth. 

She tilts her chin down and lifts her left eyebrow, and Harry meets her stare once again. 

"You're right," he says, and closes his eyes. "Gimme a minute."

Taking all the time of the world, Harry breathes in deeply through his nose. When his chest is full, he freezes for a moment, and then lets all the air slip out through his mouth. Loudly and heavily. 

It's a little bit dramatic. A little bit over the top. A little bit exaggerated. But Aurora can tell that he's intentionally forcing his movements. That he's getting on board with her and leaving things behind. And that he's making a big deal out of it because it's supposed to be a symbolic moment between them. Like drawing an imaginary line and setting a before and after for that trip. 

Especially when he rolls his shoulders, tilts his head side to side vehemently, and then drops all the weight off his body. 

"Ok," he says, opening his eyes while clasping his hands together and smiling at her. "I'm good!"

He leans down to grab his bag, too, and a foolish grin grows on Aurora's face. 

"As I was saying," he adds, placing the strap on his shoulder as he looks at her again, "I got us a taxi. It's supposed to be just an hour and a half drive, but they said it can take us at least two hours to get there."

Meaning they will get there around what… 2:30? 3?

Aurora pouts. 

"That sucks. Lucy had this whole thing planned in the morning."

"I know. But we'll make the best of it, anyway."

"Yeah…" 

She puts her phone inside the front pocket of her bag, then looks around the airport. 

They're still inside the crowded terminal, and it's safe to say that she has no idea where she's supposed to go next. She's been following Harry's steps since they landed — or maybe even since they took off — and she isn't actually interested in taking the lead right now. 

"So… Where should we go, then? Can we get this taxi now or…"

"Mhm… Yes… We sure can…" Harry nods. "But first… There's something I have to tell you."

Aurora's face falls, and she drops her shoulders.

"Oh God… What?"

"It's nothing bad… At least I don't think so, but…"

Harry scratches his jaw and shrugs, then smiles sheepishly at her.

(Which, to be honest, does nothing to reassure her.) 

She rearranges the bag on her shoulder with one hand, and encourages him to speak with the other, rolling her fingers in the air. 

"But…?"

"Well… I might've lied a bit to the guy from the taxi company."

"Okay…" She narrows her eyes. "Why? What did you say to him?"

"That we just… Y'know… Got married?"

Aurora drops her jaw.

"Married?!"

Harry chuckles.

"Mhmm..." 

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah…" 

His face is bright with amusement, and even though Aurora can't understand what's so funny behind that joke, she can't help but mimic his emotion.

"Harry!" She laughs. "Why would you even say that?!"

"Because he gave me this whole speech, ok? About how he couldn't get us a car 'till five, and how we should've booked one at least one day before and… Well. Y'know…"

He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed at the lecture he got because of their poor planning skills, but the joy is still there. All over him. Radiating from his entire presence. Blooming into her.

"I see." Aurora nods, pursing her lips as she mulls over his words. "And us being married changes that because…"

He pulls his eyebrows together, as if the answer is the most obvious thing and he can't believe she's even asking that. "Because we eloped, duh. So of course we didn't have any time to plan or book anything."

"Oh my God." 

Aurora laughs. 

"So I guess this is our honeymoon now."

"You're insane."

"Hey, it worked, ok?" He raises the palms of his hands to her, then smirks, all proud of himself. "We didn't have a taxi, now we have one. So… You're welcome." 

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms on her chest, but the smile never falters from her face. 

"Fine. Whatever. Anything else I should be aware of about this lie?"

Harry takes a moment to think about it, hiding his hands inside his pockets and then shrugging. 

"Nah… Don't think so." 

"Good."

"Only that you're madly in love with me and couldn't wait to be my wife." 

"Right."

"But that's pretty obvious."

"No, yeah. Of course." 

"You also can't wait to get our honeymoon started, by the way."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep. So you're kind of desperate to get to our hotel."

Aurora snorts. "Okay then."

"Apparently," he says, stepping closer and nudging her side with his elbow, "you just can't get your hands off me."

She cackles, then, and shoves him off with one hand. "You wish!" 

The small joke rolls easily and happily from her mouth. Mostly because she's determined to not ruin things all over again, but also because he brings that side out of her. 

And Harry laughs, too.

"Hey," he says, shrugging and tilting his chin up, "a man can only hope."

"You're ridiculous."

"I mean, it gets you laughing so… Yeah. I'll take it." 

She shakes her head, finding herself out of words. Even if she knows they're both just teasing around and that she doesn't need to worry about him misinterpreting her, there's only so much she can joke at once. 

Unlike Harry, of course, who apparently can roll lie after lie out of his mouth. 

"Ok, c'mon," he says, tilting his head and leading their way from arrivals to outside the airport. "They said there'll be a car waiting for us."

Aurora follows him in silence, and then she clears her throat. 

"So, you really told them we got married?"

He smiles, and nods. "Yes."

"And they really think we're going to a hotel?"

"Mhmm." He looks at her over his shoulder and shrugs. "I didn't want to get into the whole yacht thing… Seemed too much trouble to explain."

"Right." She smirks, and raises her eyebrows. "But creating a lie about our marriage was easy-peasy, right?" 

Harry purses his lips, clearly trying to hold himself back. 

"I mean… Yeah. Had the whole story on the tip of my tongue." 

They both look at each other for a moment, and then they both laugh. 

See? That's the good thing about Harry: he makes Aurora laugh. 

And he makes her laugh a lot.

Which isn't exactly news, because he always made her laugh, but still feels nice to remember. 

Back in the day, the way Harry and Niall lived their lives used to be one of the reasons why she liked to hang out with them so much — they didn't have too many worries in the world, and they only cared about having fun. So whilst most people around her were planning for their futures and preoccupied about having everything figured out, they made her laugh about the most silly and random things, offering her a break from the pressures and expectations of adult life.

Of course, their lifestyle wasn't one that she could keep up with all the time, and at certain moments their behavior used to resemble childishness, but they definitely were good and fun people to keep around. 

So much so that here's where they are right now. 

"C'mere, wifey," Harry says, stepping out to the sunny day and pulling her to his side by her shoulders. "Time to give our driver a show." 

She grimaces, then places her arm around his waist.

"Okay," she says, narrowing her eyes and adjusting her sight to the warm and natural brightness, "rule number one, you're not calling me wifey."

Harry squeezes her shoulder and laughs, throwing his head back and slowing their pace down. 

"Right. Ok." He nods. "What should I call you, then?"

"What about… Nothing?"

"Oh c'mon! You're my wife now. We need to play the part." He guides her smoothly down the sidewalk, dodging strangers and skipping through a long line of white cars. "Does honey sound better? Or what about apple of my eye, huh? Cupcake? Pumpkin?" 

She chuckles. "Harry—" 

"Buttercup?"

"Stop."

"Kitten?" 

"Ew, no—"

"Other half? Or what about…" He leans closer to her ear, then covers his voice with sweetness and cheesiness as he annoyingly murmurs, "My lovey-dovey?"

At that, Aurora cackles. 

"Oh God," she laughs, squirming and shoving him off. "Stop. No nicknames for you." 

"Ahhh, why?" He pulls her closer again, exuding pure joy and happiness as he speaks. "Nicknames are fun. I can be your honey bunny if you want me to."

"Absolutely not."

"Honey boo?"

"Nope."

"Lover boy, then."

"C'mon… You can't seriously—" 

"Man of your dreams?"

Aurora snorts, but before she can say anything, Harry speaks again.

"Prince charming? Jellybean?"

"Harry, c'mon—" 

"Hot stuff?" 

"Stop!" 

"Babylicious?"

And then she laughs again. Probably way louder than she should. Leaning into him and covering her face as she struggles to keep up with his feet. 

"Oh my God! You're just so annoying. I can't even—" 

"Mr. and Mrs. Styles?" a thick italian accent calls, and they both stop walking.

Aurora is still laughing, trying to catch her breath while she turns her head to the side. A gray-haired man dressed in a black suit steps away from a black car and walks forward, holding a polite smile and gentle expression as he approaches them with nothing but determination. 

Harry squeezes her shoulder and leans in, getting closer to her ear.

"If you ask me," he murmurs, and the tone of his voice is suddenly so low that it becomes almost painful, "that should be the one. Mrs. Styles."

A shiver runs down her body, and she swallows. 

"Scusi," the man says, thankfully sparing her from having to find any responses or reactions. "Signor e signora Styles?"

"Giusto!" Harry says, squeezing her shoulder and chuckling as he straightens his posture and pulls her closer to his side. "Signor e signora Styles. Sì."

"Piacere! Come stai?" The man stretches his arm, and Harry takes a step forward, shaking hands with him. "Sono Francesco, il tuo tassista."

"Francesco!" Harry smiles. "Buongiorno! Mi chiamo Harry e questa—" He squeezes her again, making a deal out of it as he kisses the top of her head. "È mia moglie, Aurora."

Aurora bites her lip, watching in silence as the man turns to her and stretches his arm once again. 

"Aurora. Piacere. Un nome bellissimo." 

"Uh…" 

Truth be told, she has absolutely no idea what's going on, or what they are talking about. So she chuckles nervously, but makes sure to shake his hand anyway. 

"I don't…" She says, tilting her chin up and glancing at Harry. "Sorry. I don't speak Italian." 

Harry's expression softens, and the playfulness in his face turns into pure tenderness. 

"Oh. No problem," the man says, the Italian accent still thick as he communicates in a different language. Aurora faces him again, and he adds, "Aurora, sì? Beautiful name." 

"Oh." She smiles, cheeks getting slightly warm. "Uhm… Gra… Grazie?"

She turns to Harry, again.

"That's thank you, right?"

Still staring at her, Harry smiles, then nods.

Aurora looks back at the man. 

"Grazie," she repeats.

"Non c'è di che! Andiamo, sì?"

Aurora tilts her chin up, looking at Harry and waiting for him to take over the conversation. 

He shakes his head, then, and turns his attention back to the man. "Sì. Andiamo. Sì."

The man chuckles. "Sposi novelli, eh?"

"Mhm." 

"Congratulazioni! Lo immaginavo. So riconoscere lo sguardo di un uomo innamorato." 

Harry chuckles and looks down, then scratches his jaw with his free hand and clears his throat. "Così ovvio, eh?"

Aurora doesn't know if it's possible, but she feels her own eyes twinkling as she tilts her chin up and lands her gaze on Harry one more time. 

He beams under the gorgeous sunshine, eyes greener than she's ever seen and cheeks flushed as he engages into a conversation with that man. Not only rolling Italian words out of his mouth, but also effortlessly putting them into sentences. 

And she's so hypnotized by the whole thing, that she can't even be bothered by the fact that she's not being included or doesn't understand a single thing. She'll gladly let him take the reins for the entire drive as long as she gets to entertain herself with that view.

"Auri?"

Harry squeezes her shoulder, and Aurora blinks. She darts her eyes away from his face, swallowing while he steps towards the car and slides his arm off her shoulders. 

"Shall we?" he asks, reaching for the strap on her shoulder. 

Aurora is too starstruck to fight him, so she nods and lets him grab her duffel bag, then follows him with her eyes as he and the gray-haired-suited-man place it in the trunk, along with his. 

And from then on, Harry plays his part like a true gentleman. 

Their driver starts by opening the backseat door for them, but then Harry offers his hand for her to hold and get in first, kissing her temple when she walks past him. She chuckles, but only because of the effort he's putting on just to cover his own lie. 

Once they're both inside, he doesn't complain about taking the middle seat when she chooses the window, and even makes sure she's comfortable and has her belt on. 

"Possiamo andare?" the gray-haired-suited-man asks.

Harry peeks at her. "Good to go?" 

"Mhmmm..." 

He nods, then puts his belt on while answering their driver. "Sì, grazie." 

The engine starts working, and they're officially on the move to the Amalfi Coast. 

"Can I?" Harry whispers to her, hovering her hand with one of his. 

"Oh…" Aurora looks at his inked forearm, reaching for her while he keeps his elbow tucked to his side. To be fair, after sobbing into his chest and sleeping on him like a koala, she truly doesn't think holding hands would be awkward at all right now. So she nods and turns her palm around, offering it to him. "Yeah, sure."

And when he places his palm on top of hers and intertwines their fingers, she can actually see herself benefiting from his lie — because Harry's warmth keeps her warmth, as well. Just like she needs to be. Just like she wants to be. 

"Credo che Amalfi ti piacerà moltissimo," the man says. "È perfetto per gli innamorati!"

Harry chuckles and scooches down, comfortably spreading his long legs open and pulling their hands to rest on his thigh. "Grazie. È la nostra prima volta in Italia."

"Per quanto starai qui?"

"Solo due giorni. Domenica torniamo a casa."

Aurora is lost in the conversation, but she's also… Physically uncomfortable. Her arm is tense as she stretches it to lay on his leg, and she doesn't want to spend two hours like that. So she shuffles closer, tucking her elbow under his own and fully linking their arms. 

"Bene, dovrai tornare un'altra volta per visitare più città," the man says.

Harry sits upright again, then slips his fingers off from her hand.

"Di sicuro," he says, lifting his arm and placing it across her shoulders. "Forse la prossima estate."

He takes his other hand to her palm, then, and intertwines their fingers once again. 

It's like they need a moment to get comfortable and find a position that suits both of them, but eventually they get there. With Aurora melting onto his side and him brushing patterns on the skin of her arm. 

The man nods and smiles, but says nothing, and silence finally settles in the car.

Until Aurora takes that as an opportunity to speak again. 

"So…" she starts, watching their touching hands. "Did I miss something important from your private conversation?"

He freezes next to her. Stiffening his muscles and stopping the movements of his hand on her arm. 

"Shit. I didn't even… Sorry." He spreads his hand open on her shoulder, and squeezes her gently. "We were just chit chatting about the city, that's all. But I'll keep in mind to translate now, yeah? Sorry." 

"It's fine." She smiles, appreciating the sentiment. 

To be honest, she doesn't really care. She wishes she had prepared herself a little bit better for a new country and a new language, that's for sure, but at least she's with Harry now. It will be a lesson learned for the next time — if there ever is one. 

"When did you learn how to speak Italian, anyway?" 

A smile grows on his face, and he tilts his head to lean it on top of hers. 

"I don't know." He shrugs slightly, resuming the brushing of his fingers on her arm. "My mum… I learned from her, that's all."

Aurora frowns. "Is she Italian?"

"Uh… No, she… I mean, my grandfather was."

"Ohhh… Didn't know that. So you've always spoken Italian?"

"I guess? I don't know. I just can find my way around it… That's all."

Aurora hums, and turns to look through the window, admiring the view of a country she's never been to before. 

And then she shrugs, making sure she sounds teasingly when she says, "Well… Now that you've brought up your mum, then I guess it'll be inappropriate to mention how incredibly hot and sexy you sound when you speak Italian, right?"

Harry chokes. 

He literally chokes. Straightening up and coughing while letting her hand go to smack his palm on his chest. 

Aurora sits upright as well, holding back a smile as she tries to catch a glimpse of his face and murmurs questions like "what's wrong?" and "are you okay?". 

The driver says something, too, and Harry shakes his head, raising his free hand waving a finger at him.

"I'm…" He coughs again, and brings his hand to his throat. "Sto bene—" (cough) "Grazie."

"Ugh, see?" Aurora murmurs, leaning against the backseat and grabbing his hand on her shoulder, making sure he doesn't pull his arm away. "Told you. Incredibly sexy."

Cough. Cough. Cough.

Cough.

"Shit."

Cough.

Cough.

Cough.

Aurora giggles.

Yep. That's actually pretty fun.

They park at what first seems a dead-end street, but in reality it continues turning right and going up the hill. 

Aurora gets out of the car slowly, feeling the hardness of the concrete under her feet as she straightens her back and tips her neck back. The sun is shining, and she rests the side of her hand on top of her eyes, blocking out the brightness and taking in the view — the hills, the rocks, the shades of green, the colorful houses and buildings. 

She places her free hand against her breastbone, and slowly releases the air inside of her lungs. She doesn't want that surreal feeling to end, so she stands frozen in the spot for another moment, or two. 

She's heard about people going through moments when all their concerns and worries fall away, but it has never been a first hand experience of hers. Not until that day, at least. 

The closest she can imagine to that feeling was the moment she finally physically met Noah, the exact second his tiny crying body was placed between her arms. That didn't last too long, though, with her body hurting and the exhaustion taking over every inch of her — both emotionally and physically.

Earlier that day, when she woke up  snuggled into Harry's arms, she also experienced something very similar to that — the same sense of calm and peace. Then again, it also didn't last too long, since she knew she was overstepping and had to pull herself from his embrace. 

(Besides, to be fair, she isn't sure if it's the same thing, or if she's just really confused right now.) 

Still, there she is right now, standing in an unknown city, where she doesn't know anyone and can't even speak the language, feeling as if all of her concerns and worries have fallen away. It's pretty similar to those other two occasions, only this time the feeling doesn't seem to be going anywhere. 

It feels as if it's settled to stay.

The trunk of the car slams shut, and Aurora turns on her feet. 

On the other side of the taxi, Harry chats excitedly with their driver. And behind them, opposite from the city, is the ocean. 

It's a little after three in the afternoon, and they are finally at Marina Coppola, the port of Amalfi. 

The gray-haired-suited-man looks at her and nods, saying things she can't even try to understand. The only words she somehow recognizes are "amore", and "buona giornata", but still, she isn't sure she really knows what they're supposed to mean. 

So Aurora simply smiles, watching as Harry does — once again — all the talking for both of them. 

"Grazie!" he says, clasping one hand on the man's shoulder and firmly shaking his hand. "Anche a te!"

The driver raises one hand at her, and she lifts one hand, too, waving and blinking slowly as he gets inside the car. 

Harry moves to the sidewalk with both duffel bags, and Aurora waits for the man to drive away before getting closer to him.

And then she reaches for her bag, but Harry dodges her and taps her hand away.

"Nuh-uh, Mrs. Styles."

Aurora's cheeks warm up, and she rolls her eyes. 

During their ride, their driver referred to her as Mrs. Styles more than a few times. He'd ask questions about the view, or chit chat about the weather and ask her opinion about it. And Harry, of course, would be the one to always translate the questions, making sure to not only include Mrs. Styles, but also emphasize it. 

"Well… Marriage is over, so…" 

She shrugs and smiles, but maybe her joke hits a little too close to her heart, because she doesn't feel like fighting him anymore. Instead, she allows her curious eyes to shift around and capture as many details as she can. 

It is nice to see the ocean again. Long, wide, far-reaching. She's also seen a restaurant at the marina's entrance, and although the street is filled with cars, there aren't many people walking. 

She remembers Lucy explaining in their group chat how they chose a weekend in May exactly because of that — because it wouldn't be so filled with tourists, but the weather would still be perfect for a swim. Aurora can't deny she'd been scared of rain ruining their plans, but the sun is, in fact, shining with no signs of any clouds around — which is probably also helpful to set that magic scenario around them. 

And as Aurora admires the postcard worthy sight, it dawns on her that Amalfi looks exactly as she has seen in pictures. Maybe the colors aren't as bright and intense as Instagram usually made it seem, but it is still colorful. Still captivating, still mesmerizing. 

Being there, she can actually smell the fresh water, the fish, and the sunscreen. She can also feel the prickle of sunburn on her arms, and the wind pulling at her dress and her hair. She can even actually hear the small waves, the boats motoring past on their way to water, and the laughter and excitement of people at the docks.

The atmosphere is real, and yet still impossible to describe. It fills her with life, with hopes, and with dreams. 

It is… Surreal. 

Magical. 

"This is unbelievable," she finally murmurs. Her voice is soft and delicate, though — as if she doesn't want to break the spell surrounding them. 

"I know," Harry says, mimicking her tone. "'S really beautiful, innit?"

She turns her head to look at him, and finds him watching the hills across from them, the same ones she was watching just minutes before. She can see him furrowing his brows under his sunglasses, his head moving from one side to the other. 

"Yeah," Aurora breathes out. 

Harry is beautiful. The daylight makes his skin look tanner, and the wind messes with his hair, too —  although he doesn't seem to mind. And the facial hair glows on his face, somehow screaming at her how grownup he is. Somehow turning into a reminder of how good he took care of her, of how good he made her feel. 

Shit. 

She swallows, and faces the port again.

Can she still blame these thoughts on her lack of sleep?

Maybe she's being delusional. Maybe she is still so confused that she doesn't know what is reality or dreaming anymore. Or maybe she's spent so much time without interacting with any men that she doesn't know what's friendly or not anymore. Maybe she's mixing things up. Maybe Harry has just been protective of her. Like Theo and Niall are. 

Shit.

The wind pulls her hair to her face, and she takes her arms to put her locks into an improvised knot.

Hundreds of various-sized boats are lined up along the docks, and they are all so different from each other that she realizes she's never stopped to think about their different names. 

Are they boats? Are they all yachts? Is there even a difference? And what would that difference be?

"So…" she says, pausing to clear out her throat and rub the tip of her nose. "A ferry is one of those that you can get into with your car, right?"

Harry glances over his shoulder, watching her silently for a moment. 

She can feel his eyes on her face, but she resists the temptation of looking at him. 

And then he nods and turns around, standing next to her and facing the ocean as well. "Yeah… Have you ever been in one?"

Aurora shakes her head. 

"No… I remember from the movie 'How to lose a guy in ten days'. Have you seen it?"

He turns his head and stares at her in silence once again, until a loud laugh erupts from him.

She turns her head, too, and tilts her chin up, looking at him. 

"What?" she asks, lifting her left eyebrow. 

"Sorry… It's just…" 

He shakes his head and scratches his jaw, waiting until calming down before explaining himself. 

"Oh God… You made me watch that movie soooo many times," he says, voice filled with amusement while he tilts his neck back and looks at the sky. 

Aurora keeps her eyes on his shoulder, focusing on the flamingos in his shirt.  

"I did?" She frowns. "I don't—When?"

"Movie nights at your place, remember?" He pulls his hair back, smiling at her, and then at the horizon. "We used to do them once a week for a month or two. Usually everyone fell asleep and we were the only ones awake. Somehow, you'd end up always making tea and putting that DVD on." 

He shrugs, as if recalling that memory it's just the most common thing in the world. 

To Aurora, though, it isn't. 

"Wow…" She blinks, staring at the port again. "I can't… I honestly can't believe how many things you remember and I don't."

"Oh, it's okay, we were—"

"No, it's not. It makes me feel like shit."

"Auri—"

"You know I really like you, right?" she asks, focusing on the way the waves crash against one specific boat. "It's not you… I mean, I don't remember so many things, it's like I blocked stuff from my memory, but it's not because they didn't mean anything to me… I promise. I've always enjoyed our friendship, I just—"

Harry places his hand on her shoulder, and Aurora twists her neck to look at him.

"C'mon…" His sunglasses are on the top of his head now, pulling his hair back, and he stares firmly into her eyes. "I don't expect you to remember the same things I do, ok? We're fine. Everything's good. You don't need to be so tense about everything you do or say. Not around me, at least. Ok?" 

"Okay…" She nods once, then twice. And then she shakes her head. "Yeah, okay. Yeah."

"Okay," he repeats, a smile forming on his lips and his hand slipping away from her shoulder. 

Aurora can still feel his fingertips burning on her skin, though, and it dawns on her that, after spending the entire drive holding his hand and relaxing under his arm, now it's weird to not be able to just… Touch him again. 

"And just so you know," he adds. "I've been on a ferry. A couple of times, actually."

Aurora gasps, then grins at him, gladly accepting the change of subject. 

She asks when, and where, and why, and Harry chuckles. He answers while putting his sunglasses back on, then keeps the conversation going as he leads the way to the docks and to their friends. 

And they walk together, of course. All the time. 

There's a white arch they have to get through, and Harry raises his arm, gesturing for her to go first. She smiles shyly, looking at him over her shoulder as she steps onto the aluminum gangway. 

She walks across what looks like a green carpet before getting to the actual dock — a narrow wooden path stretched out into the water and leading to all different yachts — and then they are walking side by side again.

Always side by side.

Even when they have to dodge people on the way, some simply standing and chatting, some prepping their boats for sailing, some just returning to land. 

Then it gets to a point where all Aurora can see are bare masts reaching into the sky,��birds flying, and ropes around their feet. 

They turn left on the dock, and sweat trickles over the back of her neck, just like her inner thighs sting from brushing against each other. She sighs and scratches the tip of her nose, listening to Harry as he chats about how he stopped eating meat a while ago, but was willing to eat fish again during the weekend.

Aurora nods at him, and then the growl of an engine starting up makes her jolt and gasp. She widens her eyes and takes her hand to her chest, and Harry chuckles next to her. 

She rolls her eyes and relaxes, smiling as she pokes his side with her elbow. "Shut up…"

He nods, pursing his lips and stopping himself from laughing even more. 

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Styles." 

"Ughhh. I won't be hearing the end of this anytime soon, will I?"

"See? That's why I married you. You know me too well."

She snorts, and then Harry slows down walking. 

"Ok, all jokes aside now. Aurora Fletcher, are you ready to have some fun?" 

Aurora smiles. 

To be fair, she's been having fun for a while now, but her body still sparkles with excitement at his words. So she moves her head quickly in agreement, just to make sure Harry can see it. "Yes, please."

"Good, because if my eyes aren't messing with me," he says, raising his arm to point out ahead of them, "I think those up there are our friends…"

Aurora looks up, tilting her chin and squinting her eyes when the sun strikes right into her line of view. Like she did before, she places the side of her hand against her eyebrows, blocking the brightness and blinking to focus where Harry seems to be pointing at.

When she recognizes the silhouette of some of their friends, she realizes they aren't just on a yacht — they are standing at the top floor of a massive, luxurious yacht. 

Aurora's mouth falls open, her eyes seem to bulge out of her face, and her body freezes. 

"What the hell?" she murmurs. 

Or, in other words, what the hell were Lucy and Theo thinking?! 

"Now I see what Niall meant about it blowing my mind," Harry says next to her. "Fuck yeah, this is gonna be great! C'mon." 

His joyful and energetic voice is enough to wake Aurora up from the half-conscious state she's fallen into, but he still puts his hand in between her shoulder blades and pushes her slightly, encouraging her to move along with him. 

"They're waiting for us, yeah? It's gonna be fun, but if it gets too much let me know and we'll just take a break from everyone."

Aurora blinks.

"I don't… I don't know if I'll be able to," she blurts out, not moving her feet from the spot. 

Her eyes are still wide open, but she darts them up to stare at Harry. 

He pulls his sunglasses back to the top of his head and takes two steps closer, standing right in front of her and letting their bags fall to his feet. His figure is tall enough to block the movements ahead from her view, allowing Aurora to focus on him, and only him. 

"I mean—" She shakes her head, organizing her thoughts. "I don't know if I'll be brave enough to ask for help."

Harry nods, and a wave of understanding engulfs Aurora's body. She drops her shoulders, and her eyebrows, then lets a long breath out of her nose.

"Maybe we could come up with a sign then, yeah?" He puts his hands right above her elbows, then gently moves them up and down. Rubbing her upper arms and soothing her down. 

"A sign?"

"Mhm. Just, y'know, something to let each other know we could use some company? For both of us… Maybe I'll need it, too."

Aurora chuckles and rubs her forehead, knowing damn well he won't need it. 

Still, she nods. 

"Maybe, okay… Yeah."

"Good. Any suggestions?"

"Hmmm… I don't know. Pinching the tip of the nose?" 

"No, nuh-uh." Harry shakes his head. "You already do that a lot."

Aurora frowns. "No I don't."

"Trust me, you do." Harry tightens his fingers around her arms, then loosens them up. "Scratching our jaws? I mean, your jaw… You scratch yours, I scratch mine…" 

Aurora purses her lips, and his own mouth twitches in amusement. 

"You know what I mean…"

"Yeah…" Her eyes wander around his face for a moment, and she sighs. "But no, because that's something you already do a lot."

Harry turns the corner of his mouth into a smirk, and Aurora squeezes her hands into fists to stop herself from poking the dimple on his cheek. 

"I do?"

She shrugs. "Mhm." 

"If you say so…" 

He stays put inside her eyes, capturing her inside a mesmerizing green spell and forcing her to just wait there. Powerless and helpless. With no other option but to stare back at him.

Letting time go by — letting time run by. 

As if they weren't already late. 

As if they weren't the last ones to arrive.

As if they didn't have a massive, overpriced yacht waiting for them. 

"What about our ears, then?" he offers, his voice huskier and somehow slower. 

Aurora swallows. And her stomach flutters just as much as her chest tightens. 

"Y'know," he adds, then takes a step closer. "You tug yours, I tug mine…"

He moves one hand, letting go of her arm as he drifts it to her face. 

He touches her cheek first, breezily, then slides to her ear, brushing her skin in the process and making it tingle. 

Aurora holds her breath, and as she stares at him, she feels her earlobe being touched by two of his fingers. 

She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them again, she drifts her sight to his mouth. Unconsciously and unintentionally. 

Harry slides his tongue between his lips, getting them wet before he turns them into a smirk.

"Like this," he murmurs, then gives her ear a little tug. 

Shit.

Aurora looks back at him.

Everything he's doing right now feels soft, intentional, and… Extremely and weirdly right. 

There's a feeling deep down her stomach that she's unable to name. Maybe a flush, maybe a tingle, or maybe a throb. Or maybe all of them.

She can't describe it, she can't understand it. 

She can't name it.

But it's there, and it's doing things to her. Things she hasn't felt in a very long time.

"Hm? What do you say?" he asks, so softly it almost makes her whine.

Her heart picks up, and she doesn't think she'll be strong enough to move away from his touch. Not then, not ever again. 

"Okay," she whispers. "Yes."

His smirk turns into a smile, and he leans in, pressing his lips firmly against her forehead. 

It only lasts a second, and then Harry pulls away from her and hunches down to pick up their bags. 

W—What? 

Why…

Aurora blinks at him. 

Why did he stop?

Why did he move away? 

"It's settled, then," Harry says. "C'mon, let's get this party started."

Hiii :)

I thought about adding some more scenes here, but tbh I feel like these two should be together and get all the attention, so this is where part 3 officially ends. Next part it's a long one and includes meeting all of their friends, so I hope you've enjoyed their last moments by themselves hehe 🤭

Thanks for reading!

Dani

(if you've made it here, pls talk to me and say Francesco lol)

--

PART FOUR (I)

[englishstrawbie]

Prompt fic requested by @nonnienonnon00 :

4 - but early Marina Season 3 - Maya just can't stop thinking about Carina

Here it is, with a little twist because I wrote what inspired me. I hope you enjoy it!

>>>>>>>>>>

When she was thirteen years old, Carina had a crush on a boy called Nico. They would walk home after school in the same direction. He was a year older than Carina, a little scrawny but he had a kind face. She never tried to talk to him, too shy back then. Besides, he was always with a friend and she would usually have Andrew in tow, chatting away about his day.

And then, just before the summer break, Andrea was on a play date with a school friend and Carina was walking home alone for once. She stopped at the store near her house to buy a cola and, when she stepped out into the afternoon sun, Nico was waiting for her. It turned out he had noticed her too – told her he liked her brown eyes and pretty smile. He walked with her the rest of the way home, telling her about the spaniel his family had just adopted from a local rescue centre and their plans to spend the school holidays in Naples with his aunts and uncles and cousins.

He asked for her phone number and, a couple of days later, she was sat on the bottom stair in her house, the phone cradled by her ear, twirling the wire around her finger as they talked for over an hour, until Mama rushed her out the door for dinner at her grandparents.

It was a summer of phone calls, a summer spent on that bottom stair sharing stories about their vacation. A summer of goofy smiles and heart flutters every time she heard his voice.

It fizzled out pretty quickly when they started the new school year, but the memories of those phone calls, of the goofy smiles and heart flutters, stayed with Carina as she grew up. She was always searching for it, in the men she would talk to at the bar and the women she would take home to her bed. She built connections, she had relationships, but she never found what she was looking for.

Until Maya.

Carina will never know why Maya caught her eye that day in the hospital when she was delivering the patient’s nose to Doctor Helm. Was it fate? Was it the gravitational pull she feels every time she is in Maya’s presence?

All she knows is that it is ten o’clock on a Friday evening and, here she is, curled up in bed in her pyjamas instead of out at a bar, her cell phone to her ear and her hair twirled around her fingertips.

“You didn’t!”

She hears Maya hum.

“The poor woman was convinced she had a wild animal behind her walls. She looked awful, said she hadn’t slept because of the noise.”

“And it was her vibrator?”

“Yep, it was wedged between her bed and the wall. Every time she moved, it would hit the power button, so it was turning on and off again all night.”

Carina’s heart flutters when Maya laughs.

“I wish I could have taken a photo of Dean’s face when he found it.”

“Me too!” Carina says, laughing along with her and feeling the tension of the day drifting away.

“We left her with a red face, a hole in her wall and a very expensive repair job.”

“Dio mio, your day was a lot more interesting than mine,” Carina says.

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.”

“You don’t have work to do?”

It might be late in the evening but Carina knows that Maya’s role as captain is intense, with paperwork to be done in between every call.

“Yes,” Maya says. “But I’d rather listen to you.”

Carina’s cheeks turn a little pink, and she is glad Maya can’t see her. It has only been a couple of days since their first official date and second kiss, and it is all that Carina has been able to think about. About the bright blue of Maya’s eyes and the way they crinkle when she smiles; about the way her voice lowers when she is flirting and the softness of her lips and the firmness of her hands.

“Well, I delivered four babies today,” Carina says.

“Four babies? In one day?”

Carina chuckles. “This morning, I delivered twins. That was a very happy one, my client has been through four rounds of IVF to have her babies. I had one this afternoon, the little piccolino was a few weeks early but is doing well. And about…” She checks the time on her phone. “…two hours ago, I came out of surgery after an emergency c-section.”

“You must be exhausted,” Maya says. “I can’t believe you answered the phone, talking to me must be the last thing you want to do tonight.”

“Actually, talking to you is exactly what I want to be doing right now,” Carina says sweetly. “Non riesco a smettere di pensarti.”

“Huh?”

Carina smiles to herself. “I said… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The line goes quiet and Carina wonders if she has said too much, too soon. She bites her bottom lip nervously.  

“You, uh, you’ve been on my mind too,” Maya says eventually.

A goofy grin spreads across Carina’s face. “Hmm, I definitely want to hear all about that.”

She doesn’t need to see Maya to know that she is blushing right now, the strangled sound coming from the back of her throat giving her away.

“But, as much as I’m enjoying this phone call, I would like to see you in person again. What are you doing this weekend?”

“My shift finishes tomorrow morning at eight,” Maya says, her voice light and happy. “I usually crash out for a couple of hours, and then I’m free until Monday.”

“Now you have plans,” Carina says resolutely. “How about dinner? I want to take you to my favourite restaurant in Seattle.”

“Where’s that?”

“It’ll be a surprise,” Carina says, trying to be a little mysterious. “Be ready at seven.”

“It’s a date,” Maya says.

A second date. A third kiss – and hopefully more. Carina’s heart flutters again.

“Now, bambina, tell me all about those thoughts you’ve been having about me…”

[yuugen-benni]

How are they dressed ?

You see someone dressed in an unusual way on the train.

''Every day I take the train at 12:30, visiting my clients at lunchtime........''

.....The journey takes about an hour, from Naples to the destination, and on rare days I meet a peculiar man - the old ladies next to me always comment on what a "sweet man" he is, yet the pickpockets by my side fled under his sight. He wears a white suit with small black spots and his blazer is high-necked, although it has an opening from the collarbone to the end of the sternum, plus the fact that there are… zippers? Seven of them. Four in the shoulder area, one on each wrist and one on the neck. It's like they can open specific parts but who knows it's just a style of blazer...and I'm not gonna lie, he looks good in that. I try not to stare at him because, One - his hair looks like a helmet, sorry but he has black chin-length hair with straight-cut bangs covering his forehead; two - the tattoo on his chest makes me nervous; three - HE makes me nervous. ....I can't believe I'm questioning my type.

....At this time, the train station is always crowded, and you have to be careful not to get pushed into the wrong place. Today was no different. I planned to arrive early to avoid stumbling and the excessive body heat of so many sweaty people packed together, but I still had to stop to buy my ticket and then head to the correct car. It didn’t take long, and people were in a hurry, but also because of that, there were a lot of hands pushing me inside as if I were a stray dog ​​about to be picked up by the dog catcher. It was abrupt, I tripped on the entrance door of the car and would have fallen face down on the floor if it weren't for a firm hand grabbing my arm and staring at those people who insisted on going through even with a person on the floor. Everyone stopped. I looked up and…a man in black ? no, no that doesn't give him justice. clears throat, a man…a vampire…a goth? I'm still trying to figure it out, don't think I'm calling him ugly - quite the opposite - he's wearing a long leather overcoat that reaches his ankles, inside a white dress shirt (the sleeves and collar are slightly ruffled) and a waistcoat tight enough to resemble a corset, his gloved hands and his gaze could cut through even the hardest diamond on the face of the earth. The man helped me stand up and walk properly inside the train, people began to organize themselves in a line - which based on my calculations would not last long -. Unfortunately I never saw that man again, I wish I could use him as my guard dog.

.....And it seems that there is a place for artists, of course after they renovated the station it became a beautiful place to enjoy. Every Wednesday I meet a man, I don't know his name because I always have to rush and I can't stop to talk so our interactions are limited to small smiles and greetings. I must say that the first thing I noticed when I saw him for the first time was his fashion choices. There is always a reference to his work as a designer and writer - straps with pen tips at the end stitched to his shirt or pen tip choker, earrings, brooches and sometimes bracelets. He seems to like it, and I admire his confidence - one day I couldn't help but quickly comment and he told me that it was actually me and the others who dressed boringly...ouch...but a laughed.

[godinvent]

So I saw this post about how in the books, Dracula is actually an old man and I always imagined Dracula looked like older Christopher Lee, who played him while he was a kid. While looking him up I accidentally discovered that Christopher Lee was the coolest person in the universe and there is a non-zero chance he was actually Dracula in real life

Sir Christopher Frank Carandini Lee CBE CStJ (May 27th 1922 - June 7th 2015), Sir because he was knighted in 2009 for his charity and his contributions to cinema

So first of all, I saw that he actually knew 8 LANGUAGES (English, Spanish, French, Swedish, Italian, German, Russian and Greek) and was also a staggering 6 feet 5 inches in height. Born in Belgravia in London, one of the most Dracula sounding places I’ve ever heard of, here’s some insane facts about him

•His father, Lieutenant Colonel Geoffrey Trollope Lee of the 60th King's Royal Rifle Corps, fought in the Boer War and World War 1

•His mother, Countess Estelle Marie (née Carandini di Sarzano) was an Edwardian beauty who was painted by Sir John Lavery, Oswald Birley, and Olive Snell, and sculpted by Clare Sheridan

•Lee's maternal great-grandfather, Jerome Carandini, the Marquis of Sarzano, was an Italian political refugee

•Jerome’s wife was English-born opera singer Marie Carandini (née Burgess), meaning that Lee is also related to famous opera singer Rosina Palmer

•His parents would divorce when he was four and his mother would marry Harcourt George St-Croix Rose, banker and uncle of Ian Fleming, making the author of the James Bond books Lee’s step cousin. Fleming would then offer him two roles as the antagonist in the film adaptations of his books, though he was only able to land the antagonist role in The Man With the Golden Gun. It’s believed his role in the film is significantly better and more complex than his book counterpart, played as “a dark side of Bond”

•His family would move and they lived next door to famous silent film actor Eric Maturin

•One night, before he was even 9 years old, he was introduced to Prince Yusupov and Grand Duke Dmitri Pavlovich, THE ASSASSINS OF GRIGORI RASPUTIN, WHOM LEE WOULD GO ON TO PLAY MANY YEARS LATER

•Lee applied for a scholarship to Eton, where his interview was in the presence of the ghost story author M.R. James, who is considered one of the best English language ghost story writers in history and who widely influenced modern horror

•He only missed by King’s Scholar by one place by being bad at math, one of the only flaws God gave him

•Due to lack of working opportunities, Lee was sent to the French Riviera and stayed with his sister and her friends while she was on holiday, and on the way there he stopped briefly in Paris with journalist Webb Miller, a friend of his step father. Webb Miller was an American journalist and war correspondent and was nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for his coverage of the execution of the French serial killer Henri Désiré Landru, also known as BLUEBEARD. He also helped turn world opinion against British colonial rule of India

•While staying with Miller he witnessed Eugen Weidmann’s execution by guillotine, the last public execution ever performed in France

•Arriving in Menton, Lee stayed with the Russian Mazirov family, living among exiled princely families

•When World War 2 began, Lee volunteered to fight for the Finnish Army against the Soviet Union in the Winter War, and a year later, Lee would join the Home Guard. After his father died, he would join the Royal Air Force and was an intelligence officer and leading aircraft man and would later retire as a flight lieutenant in 1946

•While spending some time on leave in Naples, Lee climbed Mount Vesuvius, which erupted only three days later

•After nearly dying in an assault on Monte Cassino, Lee was able to visit Rome where he met his mother’s cousin Nicolò Carandini, who had fought in the Italian Resistance Movement. Nicolò would later go on to be the Italian Ambassador to Britain. Nicolò was actually the one to convince Lee to become an actor in the first place

•Oh yeah Christopher Lee was seconded to the Central Registry of War Criminals and Security Suspects where he was tasked with HELPING TRACK DOWN NAZI WAR CRIMINALS

•Lee’s stepfather served as a captain in the Intelligence Corps

•He was actually told he was too tall to be an actor, though that would honestly help him considering one of his first roles was as The Creature in The Curse of Frankenstein

•He was cast in Captain Horatio Hornblower R.N (1951) as a Spanish captain due to not only his fluency in Spanish but also he knew how to fence!

•Lee’s portrayal of Dracula had a crucial aspect of it which Bela Lugosi’s didn’t have: sexuality, a prime aspect of the original novels.

•While being trapped into playing Dracula under Hammer Film Productions, Lee actually hated the script so much that he would try his best to sneak actual lines from the original novel into the script

•Ironically, he was rejected from playing in The Longest Day because “he didn’t look like a military man”

•Christopher Lee was friends with author Dennis Wheatley, who “was responsible for bringing the occult into him”. He would go on to play in two film adaptations of his novels

•His biggest regret in his career is not taking the role of Sam Loomis from Halloween when offered to him

•Christopher Lee was the only person involved with the Lord of the Rings movies to have actually met J.R.R Tolkien

•When playing Count Dooku, he actually did most of the swordsmanship himself

•Christopher Lee was the second oldest living performer to enter the Billboard Top 100 charts with the song “Jingle Hell” at 91 years old. After media attention, he would get No. 18, and Lee became the oldest person to ever hit the Billboard Top 20 chart

I really am leaving some stuff out here and I may go on

[sunnycanvas]

Translation:"Reverently in Christ the father and lord of the Lord God." ecclesize the patriarch of the Holy Resurrection, the teacher also Temple A. and the master of the holy house of the Jerusalem Hospital R. beloved of you, Baldwin by the same king of Jerusalem, May health and continued success abound. We have received with joy the letters in which you have applied to all the healthy and cheerful people of Brundusius. The knowledge of which matter has rendered my breath both tender and pleasant. On the ninth day of the tenth day of Julius, Salahadiuns entered the land of Crates, and for three weeks he ravaged its territory, and plundered it, and collected and gathered food. On the vigil of St. Potris, he entered the city of Crates in chains, besieged the fort, and held the siege for four weeks, fourteen petraria When Salahadin learned of our approach, he set fire to his stone walls, of the roads which he had built, and, taking his route, came to Naples, where he ravaged and burned the town which he could consume with fire. When the men and women of that town learned of his arrival, they fled to the castle and were saved. Going forward, he went to a city called Sebastien. And the people fled to the village, not that they might resist, but that flight was not otherwise threatened. Hane, the bishop of the same city, having received the inslues, went out to meet Salahadin, and his village "and the church Ixxx. He redeemed the captives. Retiring thence, he came to Arabia, and destroyed it, taking men and women captive. Afterwards he came to Magnum Gerina, and all the people fled to the castle, and he himself pierced it and destroyed it, and the bellies were captured, the women and children died at the edge of the sword, but the village was also consumed by the route. it was the town of the Temple, and it was completely destroyed, and he retired through a certain castle of the Hospital, which is called the Belverium; some of those who had gone outside were captured, and some killed, and he retired to his own.

LETTER FROM KING BALDWIN IV TO THE ENVOYS WITH NEWS OF SALADIN RAVAGES NABLUS, SEBASTE, AND OTHER TOWNS

Source:https://goodshksk.space/product_details/13546547.htmlhttps

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Maybe a smut one, vacation in Italy like in Naples. They rented this villa and reader is wearing a really teeny tiny bikini. The rest is up to your imagination

Four weeks of fun: Naples

Ransom Drysdale x beautiful

Warnings: 18+ readers, smut, blow job outside, swearing, naked!Ransom

Ransom stood by the pool, looking out at the beautiful view, with a drink in one hand and your hair in the other.

"Fuck," His head fell back as you bobbed your head up and down, swallowing around his cock. "That's it. Good girl." Ransom moaned as you worked him closer to his release. "Fahk, just like that..." Your moaned around him, his salty taste almost sending yourself over the edge as he pushed his hips forwards with your fingers digging into his ass cheeks. "Fuck, baby-" Ransom moaned loudly as he came, spilling himself down your throat.

You pulled off him with a pop and proud smile as Ransom caught his breath. "So, how'd you like the villa?" You asked, getting up off the patio.

Ransom handed you his drink before turning king himself away. "I fucking love the spot we're standing in." He smirked at you as you took a swig of his drink. "Why don't we explore the rest of the place first, then I'll tell you how much I love it." He winked, making you laugh.

"Shouldn't we unpack first?"

Ransom raised his eyebrow at you, "I mean, we can, but I was kinda thinking about eating you out on the balcony before we did." He shrugged and began walking backwards away from you. "Whatever. You decided." He smirked before turning around and walking towards the villa.

"You decide..." You rolled your eyes playfully and followed behind Ransom, "Like I have a choice."

-------------------------

Most of your first day at the villa was spent exactly how you'd expected it to be with Ransom. Naked and fucking.

Thankfully, by the morning, Ransom was hungry enough to let the two of you put clothes on so you could venture out and find something to eat.

You spent most of the morning eating breakfast, looking around the market and little stores, then grabbing lunch before heading back to the villa.

The sun was high in the sky by the time you returned, which meant it was time to relax by the pool for the rest of the day until dinner.

After putting the groceries away, you went to your room to get changed into a bikini whilst Ransom made some cocktails for the pair of you and headed out to the pool.

Ransom sat down on a sun lounger by the pool, facing the amazing view and for the first time in a long time let out a relaxed sigh. He wasn't used to this, being able to just relax.  Sure, he's been on vacation with his friends, but it wasn't exactly relaxing. God knows any time around his family isn't. But with you, he can just take a breath and enjoy-

Ransom's eyes nearly fell out of his head as he choked on his drink, quickly sitting up and putting his drink down before he spilt it.

You looked up from your bag to him from where you were bent over next to your sun lounger and frowned, "You okay, Ran?"

He cleared his throat and nodded. "F-fine," He coughed before sitting up and facing you. "Is that new?" He asked, pointing to your bikini.

You smiled and stood up. "Yep. Like it?" You said as you gave him a spin.

Ransom groaned, biting his bottom lip as he oogled you. Ransom jnew you were wearing a bikini but he hadn't expected you to wear one that was so... fuck, you're ass wasn't even covered. "Do I like it? Beautiful, look at me." He stood up and showed his very obvious tent, making you giggle.

"Ransom, you're always hard." You smiled as you sat down and held the sun tan lotion out to him. "Can you put this on me, please? And no funny business." You smirked to yourself.

Ransom groaned loudly but took the lotion anyway. "Seriously? You want me to be respectful when you're looking like this." He huffed.

"Lotion first, Hugh, then funny business. Do you want sunburn on your ass?" You asked with a raised eyebrow over your shoulder.

Ransom hummed. "Fair point. Although, explaining to my mother why my ass is burnt would be hilarious." He chuckled and started applying the cream to your back. Once he finished, he turned around and laid down on his sun lounger. "My turn." He grinned as he he held the lotion out for you.

"Okay -" You rolled your eyes at him as he laid with his shorts kicked off and his hand wrapped around his hard dick. "You can do that yourself, Hugh. I'm getting in the pool."

Ransom's mouth fell open, "But I'll burn." He pouted as he watched you walk towards the pool.

"Should have thought of that." You said then stuck your tongue out at him.

Ransom growled. You thunk you can tease him? A devious smirk curled at his lips before he jumped up from his lounger and raced towards you.

"Don't even - RANSOM!" You screamed out as he scooped you up into his arms and jumped into the water with you.

He'd pay for it later, but that's what he was counting on. He liked being your bad boy, even on vacation.

[x-infernhoes-x]

Of Love and Lust: [Various Vento Auro x Reader] Leone Abbacchio x Reader

Genre: smut/romance, ANGST :DDDDDDDDD Notes: Listen, I’m no Abbacchio simp BUT BUT B U T I adore the man to bits and he’s also like this funky lil dude that’s like that one skrunkly you just wanna tear into bits /affectionate anyways! Suggested Song(s) to Listen to: Do I Wanna Know? by The Arctic Monekys (Hozier cover) Take Me to Church by Hozier

Leone Abbacchio was once a man of justice and steel resolve, his determination and dedication to Naples was almost admirable and you can see it in his eyes how he wanted to uphold the principles of being a good and just cop but things seemed to take a turn for the worst the moment he took that dirty crook’s bribe that soon led to the death of his partner.

Actually, the moment he became a cop was the first sign of things going south very quickly, the death of his partner only intensified it. Up until now, Abbacchio still blames himself. Even if it's been at least what?? Four or five years since the death of his partner and only friend in the police force and seeing him like this every time that horrid day would come, it pains you to see Abbacchio drink himself to near-death. Thankfully, you had Bucciarati and the rest of the gang to help you out whenever Leone got out of hand. It’s been years since you’ve last seen him. The last time you heard about Abbacchio was when he joined in with Bruno on betraying the boss and during that time, you were hospitalized after a rather risky mission with your own team. Fugo had filled you in about the details regarding their betrayal and his choice to stay with the organization and almost everything in between. As much as you respected Fugo’s choice to stay, you chose to disappear and leave Passione for a while and you did. Tonight, happened to mark the date of Abbacchio’s partner’s death and you knew that the man was drinking himself to death once more, the rain even seemed to fit the mood too. But what surprised you the most that evening was that he wasn’t intoxicated of the sort, or at least that’s how he sounded like when he called you, asking if he could meet you face to face. Of course, you agreed and found yourself leaving the warm confines of your home before driving towards the address Leone had graciously had given you not so long ago.

You realized that this may be the first time that he’s ever invited you to his place. Unlike his visible reluctance when it came to showing his stand, Abbacchio was never reluctant when it comes to terms to his home address. After all, he did need some help in case he got way too drunk. Stepping out of your car and heading towards his door, you were surprised to see the door was unlocked and that’s when your senses kicked in. What if he called you because he got attacked by an enemy stand user? You knew Leone was the muscle in Buccirati’s squad, but you also knew that Moody Blues wasn’t made for fighting. Pulling out your stand, you were on guard as you made your way upwards to where the silver-haired gangster was, silently hoping that he was safe and uninjured.

All your worries seemed to disappear when you saw him safe from harm but it soon returned when you saw him look up at you, looking so broken and guilty, it seemed to pull at your heartstrings to see him like this and found yourself kneeling right next to where he sat, surrounded by empty bottles of wine and half empty glasses containing the beverage.

When you asked him what was wrong, he seemed to break down from right there and there, his cheeks streaked with his ruined makeup, profusely mumbling apologies to you, explaining what happened to him at Sardinia and how he was briefly reunited with his partner and you in turn took them whole heartedly, after all, he was your boyfriend and the only person that you had in your life.

Silence seemed to rule the space between you and after a few minutes of silence, you decided to do something. For the first time in years, you kissed him, you kissed him until you couldn’t feel your lips anymore, you kissed him until his dark lipstick was smeared on your lips and he did the same too. He kissed you with such desperation and need, almost as if your kiss would take away his sins. He was kissing you like you were his only redemption to this unforgiving world.

Bottles and glasses were pushed aside and wine spilled on the carpet below the two of you, but Leone didn’t seem to give a damn about it anyways.

Hands would eventually tug and grip and caress every inch, nook and cranny your bodies had, and you could feel the utter need and desperation he had for you. Soon the two of you moved to his bedroom where Leone worshiped you like you were his only deity, his savior and redemption, and he was on his knees before you, kissing every inch of you that he craved oh so much before his mouth finally found that one place that made you cry out his name to the heavens and that was enough for him. Enough for him to be cleansed of his past sins and stain on his hands, the memories, everything. Tears seemed to roll down his cheeks as he moved with you, his knuckles white and breath hitched and you felt his emotions roll off of you and found yourself locking lips with Leone once more, your hands gripping his disheveled silver locks, emotional gradient eyes staring right into your very soul and the world seemed to freeze, whispering your final praise and call of his name into the cold night air that was soon followed by his own plea like a distant echo of a chorus, bodies still pressed together, holding you so tight as if you’d disappear right there on the spot and lips whispering words of love, devotion and of forgiveness.

That night, Leone Abbacchio was reborn and he made sure to change his ways for the better.

[workingclasshistory]

New! Bonus podcast episode as part of our series about the Italian resistance. In this episode we discuss numerous films about Italian fascism and the partisan resistance to it. In particular, we discuss Rome, Open City (1945), The Four Days of Naples (1962), The Garden of the Finzi Continis (1970), The Conformist (1970), 1900 (1976), The Seven Cervi Brothers (1968) and Johnny the Partisan (2000). Listen to it, and the series so far and support our work at https://www.patreon.com/posts/e77-1-italian-86686191 https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=668474565325762&set=a.602588028581083&type=3

[goncharovweek]

Goncharov Week officially starts TODAY! A reminder of the prompts for today's opening post...

11/20 Day One: Winter/ Naples

11/21 Day Two: Time/Passing

11/22 Day Three: In love/Shoot you

11/23 Day Four: Death/mercy

11/24 Day Five: Italy/Russia

11/25 Day Six: Marriage/Betrayal

11/26 Day Seven: Fate/FREE

[kimiko24-art]

Summer, it was the peak season to visit Italy. Mostly for it's mild weather and beautiful beaches offering a wide range of activities. This year it was rather crowded, young couples and tourists alike littered the Naples shoreline. It seemed to be a lovely day for boating and sun bathing. However, on the furthers side of the beach stood four figures. Far away from the activity of the citizens, concealed by a large rock formation. There stood a man who was on guard. He was accompanied by a woman, who too was on her guard..she seemed ready to attack at any given moment. Two unknown men stood before them..their aura was threatening...almost..menacing. "Wait..Kimiko don't attack them." Bruno took a step in front of her. He seemed unsure about the shady pair of men in front of them but he didn't want to escalate things quite yet.

"What do you want with Kimiko?" he asked them seriously. Even though Bruno told the usually meek girl to stand down, Kimiko did not. These men..were people that she had ties to before she joined Passione, and they were nothing but bad news. Though it seemed, despite their threatening demeanour, that they weren't there to do Bruno or Kimiko any harm..instead they came baring a warning.

I just wanted a short story to go with these random ass screenshots I made..and luckily it matches her canon so lol

Before Kimiko was involved with Passione she was involved with a smaller gang. Having no choice but to, she worked with them for a year or so. They were a cruel group of dogs with no morals or standards. When she escaped their clutches and joined Bucciarati's team she thought she had escaped them for good. However today her past caught up with her..and it seems like the boss of her old gang has a bone to pick with her..

My other self ship comic

[langsandlit]

🔵 Brief introduction to the history of Neapolitan: Origin and history of a minoritised language (from @/neapxita on instagram)

✂️ alt text under the cut !!

10th century - Placiti Campani

The first written evidence of Neapolitan dates back to the 10th century, when four sworn declarations were composed in modern-day Campania. Despite the brevity and formulaic nature of the texts, the Placiti campani provide an invaluable early example of the vernacular spoken in Campania, and allegedly the first one in the Italian peninsula.

15th century - Aragonese Court

Neapolitan becomes the main language of public administration and internal affairs of the Aragonese kingdom.

In the 15th century, the newly established Aragonese monarchy in Naples and Southern Italy pioneered the use of Neapolitan as the language of public administration and internal affairs until the end of its rule.

In the 15th century, the newly established Aragonese monarchy in Naples and Southern Italy pioneered the use of Neapolitan as the language of public administration and internal affairs until the end of its rule.

During this time, in addition to being one of the official court languages, Neapolitan slowly replaced Latin, and was used for poems, chronicles, and treatises. The oldest full history of Naples written in this language, however, is the Chronicle of Parthenope, which dates back to 1350, prior the establishment of Aragonese monarchy.

17th century - I

With the spread of Tuscan among elites post-1500, 17th-century intellectuals in Naples were making a case for the dignity of Neapolitan as a literary language.

While Neapolitan had been adopted by earlier authors, monarchs and religious authorities, only in the second half of the 17th century did it establish itself, although not without dissent, as a rich literary language.

Specifically, it is with the works of Giambattista Basile and Giulio Cesare Cortese that Neapolitan transformed into a fully fledged, alternative literary language (as opposed to Tuscan) used for both conventional genres and original ones, including the pastoral, novel, lyric, epic, satire, mock-epic, fairy tale, and opera.

17th century - II

Intellectuals aimed to create an illustrious vernacular that could rival Tuscan and to legitimise it as an equally worthy language. 

According to Neapolitan intellectuals, Tuscan could not be given the label of a more literary language. The use of their native Neapolitan, instead of the foreign Tuscan, served to shape and legitimise an autonomous, and equally respectable, literary reality.

18th century

In the 18th century, to take a stand against the taste for Italian Mannerism in Tuscan, there was an outburst of literary production in Neapolitan.

As the literary production of the early 18th century carried forward the legacy of Cortese and Basile, literary academies in Naples hosted public readings of works in Neapolitan which were written by and for the members of the Neapolitan elites.

The 18th century was also the time in which the first grammars of Neapolitan appeared. The first to be written was Francesco Oliva’s Grammatica della lingua napolitana (1723), while the first to be published was Ferdinando Galiani’s Del dialetto napolitano (1779). Yet, despite the literary success of Neapolitan, many stigmatised it as ignoble, and the exclusive language of the plebs.

Ferdinando Galiani

For Galiani, Neapolitan was not just the language of the populace, but the cultural property of the nation.

“Therefore we do not despair yet (...) Perhaps one day our dialect will achieve the most unexpected fortune: we will defend our causes in this language, pronounce our decrees, promulgate our laws, write our annals, and do everything that the patriotic zeal of the Venetians has allowed them to do in their own harmonious dialect”.

19th century - Music

Neapolitan and Neapolitan-language music have a rich and long-standing tradition.

The earliest mention of the performance of villanellas coincides with the visit of king Charles V (or Charles II of Spain) to Naples between 1535 and 1536. The first anonymous collection of villanellas was published shortly after.

After the king’s visit, villanellas, which were sung in Neapolitan, acquired clear political undertones and became representative of Neapolitans’ national identity in the 16th century.

However, the song fest of Piererotta marks a turning point in Neapolitan music history. Starting officially in 1835, the festival constituted a major festivity attracting tourists from both within and outside the kingdom.

1861 and Fascism

At the moment of the unification of Italy in 1861, less than 2,5% of the population was able to use Italian.  

Much like Latin in the previous centuries, Italian was an exclusively written and literary language known only to a minority of literate people.

The appearance of the first bilingual dictionaries immediately before and after the unification confirms that Neapolitan was not only the language of the common people but also that of the literate.

In the aftermath of the unification, these dictionaries were used to help students who were monolingual in Neapolitan to learn Italian, the language of the new state.

In the 20th century, the nationalist agenda of the fascist regime suppressed the use of all minority languages and enforced the use of Italian in its stead, especially at school. Children were beaten or otherwise punished, generating fear and shame towards their native languages.

Since then, Neapolitan has continued to be spoken, sung and written, albeit without being taught nor recognised by the Italian state, often coexisting in a situation of dangerous diglossia.

[overlookedwwiimedia]

The Four Days of Naples (1962)

Basic Story: Following Italy's signing of a truce with the Allies, the Germans begin shooting resistance fighters and rounding up the men of Naples to send to labor camps, triggering an uprising by the citizens of Naples.

Fan Thoughts: The Four Days of Naples is part film, part re-enactment of the uprising in Naples after the occupying Germans begin terrorizing the citizens following Italy’s truce with the Allies in September 1943.  The scenes were filmed on location in Naples where the events actually occurred, adding authenticity to the actions on screen.  The direction and large number of extras successfully create a feeling of chaos as the people of Naples first celebrate what they assume is the end of their war, only to have the Germans march in and begin shooting Italian military and resistance members then rounding up all the young men with the intent of sending them to labor camps.  Everyone is dragged into the turmoil in the streets, women charging the trucks to take their men back and trying to get their children somewhere safe while some children are pulled into the fray with their father and uncles and cousins.  The whole film has a visceral, almost documentary-like, feel to it that pulls the viewer into the confusion during the four day span of the uprising.  Gripping and intense, The Four Days of Naples puts the viewer with the resistance fighters as they push back against the Germans.

Warnings: non-graphic violence

Available On: YouTube