#Paolo buccellati

[strawberryvanillablast]

Another Vento Aureo idea that I have is basically Team Bucci's parents going up against the mafia instead of Team Bucci themselves.

So, Giorno's hero sees the condition that Giorno is in and adopts him no questions asked. But of course, something happens and Giorno and his hero are on the run.

They meet up with Paolo Buccellati and his son Bruno Buccellati. Since Bruno's not in the mafia right now, he befriends a shy Giorno quickly.

Shortly afterwards, Mela Ghirga escaped along with Narancia and seek refuge with Paolo.

Fugo's grandmother (who is now a BAMF) takes Fugo away from the house earlier and raises him lovingly.

Mista's father is single and struggling. This also goes for Abbacchio's uncle, who is a cool dude.

Trish's mother Donatella came to Italy to seek out the father of her child.

Team Bucci get the childhood they deserve while their parental figures fight those who desire harm to their babies.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo kimyou na bouken #jjba pt 5 #jojo pt 5 #vento aureo #golden wind #giorno giovanna #leone abbacchio #bruno bucciarati #narancia ghirga #guido mista #pannacotta fugo #trish una #giorno's hero #mela ghirga #paolo buccellati #fugo's grandmother #donatella una #original character #let team bucci rest #and let them have childhoods

[starry-blue-echoes]

Honor Bound: I love this AU, especially because of how it impacts all the other parts. Part 3, 4, and 6 is obvious, and even part 5 is changed because the Bucciarati family is affected due to helping Joseph in his hour of need, which could butterfly in a bunch of interesting ways, which is just *chef's kiss*.

It's very fun <3

and I had an idea for Part 5

what if the Bucciarati's and Joestars end up being pretty close. Like, they're invited to family gatherings, they semi regularly exchange letters and phone calls, it's not uncommon for a Joestar or two to pop by every few months, that kind of thing

maybe Jotaro and Bucciarati end up growing up as friends. Not super close because of the age gap, but still good friends whom they felt confident in confiding in

Paolo being put in the hospital scared everyone, Joseph especially who had remained the closest with the man. They didn't hesitate to pay for the man's hospital bills, and there was even talk about making sure Bucciarati would have a place to stay. He was practically another son to them

Wammu and Joseph were on the quickest flight over to watch Bucciarati. It would just be downright cruel to separate him from his father right now, and he needed support

The two were there the night the gangsters snuck into Paolo's room and tried to finish the job

Wammu ended the lives of two more people that night with their bodies never to be found. It was almost as if they'd never existed to begin with

after that, they work out a plan. Wammu will stay in Italy for the next few years and keep watch over the Bucciarati's. He makes sure the boy is cared for and most importantly that he and his father are protected

this....... very thoroughly derails Part 5. The Bucci Gang so to speak still form, however this time they're more of...... just a small family. Gravity makes sure those fated to meet do, and before you know it they're all together

Diavlo still dies thanks to them, however I'm still trying to figure out how and why. All I know is that It's Going To Be GREAT

Wammu is very proud as he watches Bucciarati build a family of his own

#honor bound #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #golden wind #golden wind spoilers #jjba part 5 #jjba bucciarati #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jjba wamuu #wamuu #jjba joseph #joseph joestar #jjba jotaro #jotaro kujo #jjba paolo #paolo bucciarati #bucci gang #jjba trish #trish una #sb answers #ailingwriter

[jjba-smash-or-pass]

#he's a little bland but I'd still let him hit #paolo bucciarati #golden wind #jojo's bizarre adventure

[depravitymoon]

Bruno x Reader Valentine's Special One-Shot

((Author's Note: Oh boy, oh boy, if this wasn't extremely late! This was sitting in my drafts for awhile because I was trying to be a perfectionist. So here's a simple wholesome one shot for y'all.))

You have no clue how your Nonna pulled this off. You were fine with this Valentine’s Day blind date set up. After all, you wanted to try dating again, and she promised your date wouldn't be some unhinged ‘sigma’ neckbeard. What you weren't expecting was to come face-to-face with the local Prince Charming. Bruno Buccellati was like Italy’s most eligible bachelor. How did Nonna drag him into this?!

As you sat across from Bruno in the seafood restaurant, you tried to focus on the conversation. But your mind was racing. You couldn't believe you were on a date with Bruno Buccellati of all people.

You realized you had spaced out as Bruno called your name. "Sorry Signor Bucceriati! I have a lot on my mind! It won't happen again!" you blurted out, feeling embarrassed.

He gave you a gentle smile. "No need to be formal. Bruno is just fine," he said reassuringly.

"Oh okay… Bruno!" You giggled nervously, feeling your face turn red.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping to compose yourself. When you returned to the table, you found that Bruno had ordered a bottle of wine and two glasses.

He poured you a glass and raised his glass in a toast. "Here's to a great evening," he said with a smile.

You clinked your glass against his and took a sip of the wine. It was delicious, and you felt yourself relaxing.

"Is everything okay?" he asked with a concerned look.

You took a deep breath, "I'm sorry. I just can't believe I'm on a date with you. You're like Italy's most eligible bachelor!" you admitted.

Bruno chuckled. "Well, I'm just a regular guy, really. But I'm flattered you think so highly of me."

You smiled, feeling a little more at ease.  You talked about your interests, your family, and your favorite books and movies. As the night went on, you found yourself enjoying Bruno's company more and more. He had such witty and interesting responses.

"My father, Paolo, was a fisherman," he said, "and when I was a kid, he used to take me out on his boat." You notice eyes ultramarine eyes lit up.

Bruno continued, "It's one of my fondest memories. We'd spend hours out on the water, just the two of us. He taught me how to bait a hook and cast a line. We'd talk about everything and anything, and I loved every minute of it."

"That sounds really nice," you said with a smile.

"It was. My father passed away a few years ago, but I still feel his presence every time I'm near the ocean," Bruno said with a touch of sadness in his voice.

"I've never been fishing before," you admitted.

"Really? We should go sometime. I'm sure you'd love it," Bruno suggested.

You smiled at the thought of going fishing with Bruno. "I'd like that."

As the night wore on, you found yourself getting lost in conversation with Bruno. He was so charming and easy to talk to. You definitely needed to give nonna a special gift for there birthday for this pleasant surprise.

#bruno x reader #bruno bucellati x reader #jojo's bizzare adventure vento aureo #jojo's bizarre adventure #Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5 #Safe For Work #Valentine's Day #Bruno #bruno bucciarati

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO MARE COSMIA, BRUNO BUCCELLATI. 🌗

ꕥ — OOC INFORMATION;

NAME / ALIAS: Cyan AGE: 26 PRONOUNS: She/Her OOC CONTACT: @SOLXDSNAKE on twitter OTHER CHARACTERS IN XC: Wolfwood, Neon White, Red

ꕥ — IC INFORMATION;

NAME: Bruno Buccellati AGE: 20 PRONOUNS: He/Him SERIES: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5: Vento Aureo CANON POINT: Post-Death APP TRIGGERS: General Violence, Death, Body Horror, Organized Crime, Drugs, Torture, Divorce, Grooming, Children in dangerous situations.

PERSONALITY:

Bruno Buccellati is a very bizarre man, one built on contradictions. He’s a kind soul capable of horrible things, and at a glance, difficult to discern. He’s calm and collected, has an odd sense of humor, finds joy in incredible violence and in serving his community; he has bloodied hands and a tender heart that aches for the injustices good, innocent people face.

The man is the poster child of the “friendly neighborhood mafioso” archetype. Looking after his community, offering aid to those down on their luck, giving a home to the people society has left behind. He cherishes what he’s built, and he’s not above doing whatever it takes to keep his city free from scum. No matter what.

The end sometimes justifies the means. The world comes in shades of gray.

And that’s the way it’ll always be. The world doesn’t care if struggles with himself, with the realization that the organization he joined, when he was just a child, an entity he believed was taking justice in its own hands- has now turned to poisoning the people he vowed to protect.

But Buccellati has a plan, always does.

SOMETHING YOUR MUSE STRUGGLES WITH:

Love

Carrying the world on his shoulders.

Curiosity. It makes him nosy.

YOUR MUSE'S GREATEST STRENGTH:

Kindness, he will always be there for those who need him most.

Leadership

Determination

HISTORY/BACKGROUND:

Paolo and Bianca Buccellati had a young family by the coast. Paolo was a fisherman and Bianca would watch over their son, Bruno- She’d read him bedtime stories, introduce him to poetry and fashion magazines— which ended up being some of the boy’s favorites; but even so Bruno would often be at sea with his father, enjoying the breeze, learning the way of the sea, catching fish- and then excitedly coming home to his Mama, to sing and help around the kitchen.

It was a simple life in a loving home, but love is a fickle, cruel thing. Bianca had dreams and ambitions of her own, of greater things this small, nowhere town couldn’t give her. She needed to open her wings, find a better life for herself and her son in the big city, but… Bruno said no, and Bianca left to never return.

This change was one of many. Paolo tried to heal his broken heart and work more so he could be better, for his son. Taking fishing trips, sightseeing trips, and dealing with demanding tourists. As it turned out, a pair of these tourists weren’t what they seemed and after having witnessed a drug deal Paolo was brutally attacked and left in a coma.

Bruno felt both blessed and cursed. His father was alive! and those men would come looking for him.

Weighing his options, heavy as the knife he held in hand, Bruno did as his father taught him while on the boat. Let the bait work. wait. and when the fish bites, you take the knife and gut them.

There’s no turning back from murder, and this was only the beginning. Desperate, he turned to the Passione Crime Syndicate, asking for their protection in exchange for his loyalty; it wasn’t long until he became their valuable child executioner, groomed into being the perfect agent, nobody would doubt a child, and the dead can’t regret their lack of caution.

Years would pass and he would rise up the ranks, little Bruno was now addressed almost exclusively by surname, Buccellati, a sign of the respect he’d gained by the members of Passione, and of his community. He would go on to lead his own team, become Capo, and take the fight directly to the Don.

After all, the bastard had plunged Passione into the hard drugs trade, the same dirty business that cost Buccellati his life, family and childhood.

Community and Family are sacred.

Knowing the Don would forsake both his people and his daughter, Enraged Buccellati. So even if he found himself with his hands tied and mouth muzzled, even if this was challenging the same power that allowed him to keep his own safe, Buccellati would fight tooth and nail for change.

They say traitors walk alone in a path leading only to pain and isolation.

If that’s what it takes, then so be it, it’ll be difficult…

But Buccellati has a plan, he always does.

POWERS/ABILITIES:

A Stand is the manifestation of a person's soul, they are one and the same, and their power reflects the truth of their user’s psyche.

『STICKY FINGERS』: Buccellati's stand. Aside from the enhanced speed and strength all stand users receive; It allows him to create zippers on any surface. He can open and close the zippers whenever he desires, as well as activate these remotely. While Sticky Fingers himself isn't visible to the naked eye of non-stand users, his zipper ability is physical phenomena and thus can be seen and touched by anyone.

Sticky Fingers's zippers comes with a couple of sub-abilities such as:

UNION AND SEPARATION: Attaching, Detaching and reattaching different things together. This includes body parts which can be to and from different people.

SEVERING: The zippers can swiftly cut through things without issue, this includes body parts. Buccellati is able to control whether this is harmful/painful or not.

For example: a severed head could still be completely functional and healthy as if it was still attached to the body. But if Buccellati decided to, this effect could be nullified and function more like a traditional beheading.

HEALING: the zippers are able to close wounds as well as reattach severed limbs by virtue of zipping tissue up and back together.

ZIPPER DIMENSION: zippers could be opened to lead into a hammer/impossible space within objects/people. This allows him to hide things inside places, even himself.

OPENING SPACE: This works mostly as creation of an opening that connects one space to another.

For Example: Buccellati placed a zipper on the wall of a railcar, allowing him to move through it and into the rails. It's free real door.

INHERENT ABILITIES:

Lie Detection: though not infallible, Buccellati is very good at telling if someone is lying. it may or may not include intimidation tactics and of course…. Licking people. He calls himself a "human lie detector."

Skilled Fighter: Buccellati has been in the Mafia from a really young age. He is not afraid of getting into physical altercations - he's shown to be flexible, fast and merciless.

Smart: and quick on his feet, but very, very clueless.

Natural Born Leader: along with his habit of looking after others, it's second nature for him to move into positions of leadership, following the best interests of those under his command.

Charisma: illegal for a man to have that much.

ITEMS/WEAPONS:

Handgun: A Semi Automatic Pistol

STARTING ABILITY: 『STICKY FINGERS』

STARTING ITEM: Handgun

EXTRA:

Nonbinary with a side of man.

Wears visible lacy lingerie. Under an expensive white suit.

Headliner for Gucci and Balenciaga. Like Irl.

Hates beans. Hates apples.

Immaculate sense of style. Megan Thee Stallion confirmed.

Ever been a ghost haunting your own dead body?

World's First Male Femme Fatale. Bond girl with all the power and standing of the Godfather.

DISCORD ID: santomartire

#xc application #mun: cyan #mare cosmia

[staruplatinum]

I just wanna ask for a lil Paolo Bucciarati anal please? I'm a whore for this man 😔😔😔

baby, you speak my language lmao. I know nobody writes for this man, but yall are missing out. Hes a whole ass DILF!! 

Character: Paolo Bucciarati x aFab reader 

*DISCLAIMER - Reader is of age (18+) ! This is an AU if Paolo still lived.

Warnings: NSFW, Squirting, anal, voyeruism

18+ below the cut

You laid over the wooden counter, groaning loudly as you felt Paolo lift your leg up to get at a better angle. It was so wrong. You knew it. What kind of slut fucks her best friends Dad? You couldn’t help but feel somewhat dirty about it, but feeling how deep Paolo was inside your asshole.. you could honestly care less at the moment. 

He’s a quiet man, and a hard working man. He doesn’t have much to say in mot situations, but as he has you here - moaning his name and begging for him to fill you up, he cant help but let out a soft taunt.  “Dirty. You’re so dirty, bella.”  You chuckle, not knowing what to say to that. Of course you were dirty! You were fucking your friends dad in the basement of his boat while his son navigated the ship - and you were letting him fuck your asshole. It doesn’t get much dirtier than that... “Mhm - only for you, daddy”. He groans as he grabs a hold of your hips, slamming into you from behind at full force. You can feel the head of his cock graze your sweet spot from your ass, and you start sucking in shallow breaths. Paolo is enjoying the view, watching ass your ass jiggles with every thrust of his cock.  “D-daddy, please! I’m so close!” You shudder, rubbing your clit slightly before feeling your orgasm wash over you. “Me too, piccola bambina.” You see white as your walls clamp onto nothing and squirt your juices onto the floor below you. Paolo cant see it, but he can feel how slippery it is down there and the thought alone makes him cum. He shoots his load deep into your ass, rubbing your clit with his rough fingers before slowing his thrusts and pulling out. He makes sure to give your ass one last slap as he tucks himself back into his pants, watching as his cum begins to bubble and ooze from your gaped hole. He’s got a big piece on him, and he’s always satisfied with the outcome. Paolo leans over your body, helping you stand to your feet as he kisses up your neck sensually and breathes heavily over you. His hand is skilled as he pushes your hair behind your ear.

“Let’s get you cleaned up bella, we don’t want Bruno to find out now do we?”  Little does he know, his very own son was watching the whole time.

#not SFW #paolo Bucciarati #vento aureo #JJBA imagines #Bucciarati #Paolo buccellati

[arcitraditore]

@immolatic said: I politely request angy 😡 * talk about your muse! accepting!

AN ANGER HEADCANON.

buccellati holds his anger in his hands. when he's angry, his fingers curl, his knuckles ache. from twelve buccellati has been shown to be violent in response to stress, and was groomed into a high-class thug by polpo and passione; how his anger manifests reflects that. it loudly urges him to quiet it by denting the nearest surface.

has he punched a hole in a wall? almost certainly.

#immolatic #[ — HEADCANON; ] #[ — PROMPT FILL; ] #buccellati; gets upset / #buccellati; and now i will commit a murder / #see; paolo / #see; the boss /

[serafino-finasero]

Models Maria Buccellati (Italian), Cristina Cascardo (Brazilian?), Marpessa Hennink (Dutch) (L-R) for Dolce & Gabbana, photographed in 1989 by Gian Paolo Barbieri (Italian, b.1938)

#Maria Buccellati #1989 #Gian Paolo Barbieri #Cristina Cascardo #Marpessa Hennink #fashion #model #fashion photography #Italy #Italia #photography #Dolce & Gabbana

[sluttbuttsstuff]

SILVER CHARIOT “SUGAR DADDY” APPLICATION FORM: Bruno

NAME:  Bruno Buccellati

AGE: 32

OCCUPATION: CEO/Owner of Buccellati Seafoods

ANNUAL INCOME AVERAGE: 7.8 million dollars 

BACKGROUND HISTORY: Created His company at the age of 20, and was able to quickly rise the ranks of Italian Seafood providers and become the biggest producer of seafood in Italy with his ingenuity and personal skills very quickly.  Buccellati seafoods is also one of the top 10 companies to work for in Italy, and top 50 in the world, thanks to good values and strong leadership from Buccellati himself.  Aside from his work as CEO, he also spends much of his free time fundraising and donating to charities, promoting welfare for families and the middle class of Italy, and funding research and development into safer, environmentally friendly shipping and fishing in the ocean, as well as restoring ocean damage and global warming prevention.

PERSONAL INFO: Bruno came from a poor family of fishers, but grew up with a strong work ethic and morals thanks to his father, Paolo.  Despite his parent’s divorce, and his fathers untimely death, Bruno was able to take his father’s ship and fishing business, and turn it into a multi-million dollar business.  Bruno has never lost his love for the sea, and will often join expeditions to see how his crew lives and make sure they’re well equipped.  When he’s not working on his business, or his many charities, he prefers to spend his time alone, relaxing on his personal yacht or beach-front house. He is a romantic, sentimental type, and is most interested in the Silver Chariot Program for a relationship, rather than no-strings sex.  Keep this in mind, as he’s likely to develop feelings, and prefer to be your only client.

EXPECTATIONS: Would ask that he is your only client, is willing to adjust your salary to encourage you.  Would also prefer to date someone with his ethics and morals.  Because he’s a very busy businessman, his free time is sporadic and often unplanned, so he asks you not to have any other jobs/responsibilities, and be willing to meet up with him on short notice.  Will cover any living expenses, excursion costs, as well as allot a monthly salary for your personal use.  Also willing to donate to any charity of your choice, provided they are accredited and a worthy cause.  If the arrangement goes well, he will consider allowing you to move in full time at one/all of his residences.  May ask on occasion you attend one of his events for work or fundraising, but only if you’re comfortable in public situations, and only after you have an established relationship.   

LIKES: Sailing, the ocean, family, strong values, seafood, jazz music, deep conversations,physical affection

DISLIKES: Apples and beans, rudeness, superiority complexes, one night stands 

IDEAL TYPE: Bruno would most prefer someone who is caring and willing to be open and honest with him.  Because of his hectic and tiring lifestyle, he would prefer someone who is willing to spend their time with him at his home or on his yacht.  He has no preference for men or women, but has no sexual interest unless he can first develop feelings for someone.

IDEAL FIRST DATE: Fresh Seafood dinner on his yacht, spend the rest of the night watching the stars listening to Miles Davis and getting to know one another 

PAYMENT:  Monthly allowance on a price agreed, as well as any other monthly expenses (cell phone, car fuel, etc) covered.  Any events/dates/outings to be paid for by Bruno.

#jjba #fic #imagines #mine #sluttbuttsstuff #sugar daddy applications #sugar daddy!au #bruno x reader #bruno #bruno buccellati

[jojo-reader-hell]

Bruno Buccellati x Reader: Slow Dancing in the Dark

You know what we ain’t done in a while? Cry.

...

“There we go, all nice and cozy. I just washed this duvet too, so it’s still warm.”

Trish Una watches you, like you’re an antique vase teetering on an unstable shelf. Ever since she came walking hesitantly up the street to your garden gate, she’s been terrified of you. Giorno had only told her that the house was there, even he didn’t know it was occupied. It was near a school for a reason. You were in the garden, cutting sunflowers while an eerily familiar little boy waited patiently next to you with a basket. It took everything for Trish not to scream out the name burning on her tongue when she saw the little boy. At first she thought she had the wrong house, but there was no mistaking it. It was the only one with the aforementioned plant pots and the garden. A golden glint from the frame of the door visible from the left cobblestone on the sidewalk gave it away too.

The way you looked at her was unnerving, and she’d never get over it so long as she lived. You looked right through her it seemed, your smile at your son’s voice fading, eyes widening for a moment as you looked her up and down. As quickly as something dark flashed against the whites, it was replaced by an entire smile, and you’d welcomed her to come in through the gate. She was afraid for a moment that you knew the reason she’d come here.

“There we go, and your suitcase can go right here for you to unpack.”

Your smile is dazzling, even though it’s not perfect. There’s something about your aura, your presence, it’s soothing yet still makes Trish uneasy. Instead she avoids your caring eyes and looks down at your overall dress. You’re not at all the image of a mother that she imagined. Mothers were supposed to be perfect, not one hair out of place, with stellar smiles only able to be beaten by their cooking. The bib of your overalls is smeared with stripes of paint, a telltale bulge in the pocket is courtesy of a few tomatoes that are still hanging out from the ones you picked to make the sauce for dinner. Giorno passed on the last words that there was a good restaurant she could go to if she got hungry, but it had been so long since she had a home cooked meal, she knew she would never go there so long as you cooked for her. Even if your pasta was a bit overcooked and the sauce a little watery and bland, she didn’t care a bit and only shoveled it in her mouth as fast as she possibly could.

You weren’t perfect. You told her there were so many things your husband had to teach you about being a mother, you both had to learn it fast at seventeen when the baby came. Because your husband would never abandon his little boy.

There’s no break in your calm demeanor, not even when your little boy comes thundering into Trish’s room from the hallway, throwing himself headfirst into the warm duvet and holding a book with the white hippos on it out to Trish.

“Beebo read you a story!” he insists.

“Nah uh honey bunch, Beebo is going to bed now too.”

“Mama!”

His blue eyes swim with his crocodile tears and you scoop him up effortlessly with his book, scolding little Paolo as he whines over being left out from Trish’s bedtime story (you explained to Trish as you cleaned parmesan cheese off his overalls that Paolo’s into a new thing with nick names, and he now wants to be called Beebo).

“How about I cut you a deal little dude?” you say, and your son perks up. “If Trish wakes up in the night, you can read her a bedtime story? I promise I’ll even wake you up.”

“Really?”

“Sound good?”

“Yeah!”

“Ok, tell Trish na night and give her a kiss Beebo.”

The little boy parrots your words and blows kisses from plump lips, waving to Trish so earnestly that some part of her is compelled to wave back, even though she feels she’s too old for such things. But she has to say goodnight to him. Has to give him anything he wants. It’s all she can do…

She can’t do anything else, she thinks as she sits on the bed, gazing all around the room at the oil paintings that litter the white walls, only illuminated by the lamp on the desk. You told her it was normally your studio, but you had a day bed in there for her if she was comfortable with being around your supplies. Admittedly she wasn’t comfortable with it, wasn’t comfortable with anything in this house because she thought she’d finally be alone to cry and let out her emotions without having to hold strong after the events of the past month…

But ok, twist her arm, how could she look you in the eye and tell you how she really felt about the house being occupied by a young mother that couldn’t cook and her annoyingly sweet son that had an abundance of love to give to just about anyone… She couldn’t. No matter how much she tried to summon the brat that Passione had come to know she couldn’t do it.

To do so would be to spit on his grave…

In the next room she could hear you cooing to your son, reassuring that Trish would be there in the morning and that the two of them could play when she was more settled in. Her heart bled when she heard his joyous “oh goody!” when you told him she would certainly become a permanent fixture in the house.

“Will Daddy come see her too?” he asked innocently.

Trish didn’t even have time to feel guilty, your words didn’t even give her time to process.

“No honey.” Your voice was even, soft and calm, as you explained that his father wasn’t going to come back.

Even though you were whispering so that she couldn’t hear, Trish still heard everything.

Finally, alone in her room, she broke. Unable to even summon her Stand for some semblance of comfort as your soft monotone explained to your son that his father loved him very much, and he left because he had to help Trish come to live with you both. Trish’s life had been hard, your son insisted he could see the hurt in her eyes too, and knowing Daddy, he couldn’t stand by and let someone get hurt. Even though he’d promised Paolo he’d come back and build him a boat just like in the cartoons he watched, you calmly explained that it wouldn’t be possible now that his Daddy had helped Trish to escape. You reassured him that you’d still take him to the beach and maybe if it cleared up, you’d take him and Trish around for a little bit in his Daddy’s dinghy. Trish had to muffle her screams in a pillow, biting the fabric of the case when you told Paolo that even though you still never properly learned to bait a hook, that you could try, and maybe with the things his Daddy taught you both you could all learn together and help Trish learn too.

“Does he love me?” Paolo stopped to ask.

“Who munchkin?” though Trish suspected you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Daddy. Does Daddy love me?”

His voice mirrored yours. Unnaturally calm. Serene even.

“Of course he does.” You insisted. “Daddy will always love you, and I do too.”

“… Okay.”

The tears wouldn’t stop staining the pillows with mascara. The wet sound of your kiss against your son’s cheek seemed to echo loudly throughout the house as you bid him “na night”, tiptoeing passed Trish’s room after your son’s light had been turned off.

The guilt ate too much at her, eventually she had to get off the bed and follow you into the dark hallway, running into things and careful to muffle her cries and prevent end tables from crashing and waking up the little boy that slept peacefully next to her. When she came to the living room, she noticed the door leading to the garden had been left open, a breeze disturbing the curtains and filling the house with the salt tang of the sea. Quickly she stumbled out to the door, ready to call your name into the night.

It was then she noticed you were there, standing barefoot in the garden with your back facing her. You seemed to be holding something close to your chest, rocking it back and forth as the moon’s rays played against the color of your hair, illuminating your glassy eyes and the tears that dribbled silently down your cheeks.

Dancing. You were slow dancing in the dark, alone. Illuminated only by the moon and the reflection from the glass of the portrait you held tightly in your grip. You knew. You knew the minute she walked up to the house why she was here.

Trish knew too... She knew which portrait it was you were holding, because she couldn’t stop staring at it all through dinner: Bruno Buccellati, at eighteen, holding a smiling Beebo screaming for joy as you planted a kiss on his chubby infant cheek.

#bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #trish una #jojo's bizarre adventure vento aureo #jojo's bizarre adventure #slow dancing in the dark #joji miller #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba reader insert #reader insert fiction #teen mother #angst

[jjbakaloskaiagathos]

OOO bruno!! I love your guys events!!

Are you girls still doing the interview thing? If so then Bruno 👀 please

Hello dearests! Thank you so much for your request! 💜 Today we would like to show you our interview with Bruno. It hasn’t got many jokes but it seems cute for us. We hope you’ll relish!

- Love, K&S ❤️

57 Questions with Bruno Buccellati ⛓ | Kalos Kai Agathos

S: Karina, why are you wearing pajamas?

K: Because today we are going to interview Bruno and I want him to see my T-shirt with his picture. What do you think: will he like it?

/Bruno emerges from the zipper which is in the wall/

B: I suppose it looks cute.

K&S: Hello Bruno! It was so magnificent! Can we ask you 57 questions?

B: Of course, you can. Please, come in.

1. What human quality did you get in your childhood?

B: Hard-working and thirst for justice.

2. What do you do every morning?

B: I make my hairdo and cook breakfast for the guys.

3. East or West home is best. Where is your home?

B: I can find home in water because my father was a fisherman.

4. Who do you feel at home with?

B: I feel at home with my gang, of course.

5. Describe your ideal day with the gang.

B: I would like to be on a sea voyage without Mario Zukkero.

6. To be a Capo is so stressful. How do you cope with it?

B: Sometimes I chill out with Mista and some pretty girls.

7. What is unknown for your gang about you?

B: I’m aware of a few facts about birds.

8. How do you describe your fashion style?

B: Tight but elegant.

9. What is the most expensive thing which you have worn?

B: It was that blue Gucci blazer.

10. What accessory would you like to put on?

B: I suppose... rings.

11. What will you say about a wedding ring.

B: Maybe one day... (@artsyisartsy 👀)

12. You need to sing a song right now.

B: 🎵 Everytime I close my eyes,

I wake up feelin so horny.

I cant get you outta my mind,

Sexy you be all I see 🎵

13. What scares you more?

B: The thing how drugs are still popular in Italy.

14. What makes you merry?

B: The torture dance.

15. What is your strangest habit?

B: Licking people’s faces to find out liars.

16. What do you want saying to Giorno?

B: Thank you that you created a new tooth which you had pulled out.

17. How long does it take to create your hairstyle?

B: I mean... an hour. It takes much time to straighten my hair.

18. What is the most valuable gift which you've ever got?

B: The second chance to live my life.

19. Don’t you know that sometimes your gang reminds the Kardashian family?

B: I don’t think so but Abbacchio really likes this show.

20. We would like to add some short questions... What is your favourite member currently?

B: Narancia. He went to the shop and came back.

21. Who is the wittiest and why?

B: Abbacchio. He makes jokes very seldom but they are always brilliant.

22. Who is the craziest and why?

B: Mista. He literally jumped out of the window to catch Rolling Stone’s ball.

23. Whose wardrobe would you rob?

B: Giorno’s. Both of us like holes in our blazers.

24. What do you always carry with you?

B: Medical gloves. You can’t predict where treasures are kept.

25. Describe you in a few words.

B: Bucciallati became a Capo.

26. What is the weirdest thing which you’ve ever said?

B: “His nails, flesh, and bones are all floppy like a condom”.

27. Is it true that Abbacchio is good at baking?

B: No, he eats pies at the restaurant.

28. What is the most unusual place where you’ve ever found Mista?

B: A VIP-room of the strip club.

29. Have you ever thought about thing to dye your hair pink and grow it?

B: I suppose that Diavolo’s style doesn’t suit me.

30. By the way, is it a tattoo or lace?

B: It’s lace.

31. Why is your Stand named “Sticky Fingers” and how it is associated with a zipper?

B: I don't know, it’s cool.

32. You would like to join a fall of...

B: Dior and Louis Vuitton.

33. Who has a chance to be a model?

B: Hmm... Abbacchio. I think that he will be able to inspire people.

34. The best Narancia’s character quality is...

B: He is always positive.

35. /Narancia rolls off the railing/ Hey Bruno, Aerosmith or a paper airplane?

B: Aerosmith. We value you, Narancia.

36. Can you make zippers with charms?

B: No, I haven’t try to do it. But... I like the idea.

37. Would you like to open your own restaurant?

B: No, I do love that restaurant which brings me new responsible members.

38. Is that true that Mista cooks the greatest pizza?

B: Yes, it is but he never cleans the kitchen.

39. How would you like to name your gang story?

B: “The Modern Crusaders”.

40. What is your favourite TV show?

B: “Muñeca Brava”. Milagros is the best.

41. What is the most terrible song which Narancia has listened?

B: Ghostmane’s song (thanks @frozenzippers for this headcanon 💙)

42. What is your favourite place where...

B: The restaurant.

43. Imagine that you can have dinner with anyone. Who is it?

B: Grace Kelly.

44. Did you like that experience which allowed you to exchage bodies?

B: Yes, I did. I realized that I absolutely liked my body.

45. You would like to exchange bodies with...

B: An Italian person.

46. What is your favourite male name?

B: Paolo.

47. What is your favourite female name?

B: Giovanna.

48. Do you have a driver’s license?

B: No, I don’t but Fugo or Giorno never mind to drive a car.

49. The most strangest companion is...

B: Jean Pierre Polnareff.

50. What do you keep from your childhood?

B: My hairstyle.

51. Where do you find your inspiration?

B: By the sea.

52. What is the most dangerous fruit?

B: Banana. You need to ask Polpo about this.

53. Imagine that your life is your song. How is it called?

B: Gangsta’s Paradise.

54. What’s the most unusual thing you’ve ever stolen?

B: The plane.

55. What is your favourite thing in your cabinet?

B: Our photo with the gang.

56. What character quality makes you nervous?

B: If a person is too closed.

57. It’s the last question! Say something in Italian.

B: Arrivederci.

#jojo bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jjba #jojo part 5 #jojo pt 5 #jojo part five #jojo vento aureo #vento aureo #golden wind #bruno buccellati #bruno #buccellati #57 questions with a jojo character

[jotasticweekend]

Halloween request: Bruno goes for a walk to clear his head. The night had been just like any other night, however upon his return home he is met with a mysterious woman who claims to have known his father. He's skeptical of her but despite this accepts an amulet that she claims belonged to Paolo and swore to give to Bruno. So many questions rush through his mind but before he can ask she has disappeared. Soon after he's plagued by apparitions and nightmares. Coincidence or is the trinket cursed?

CW: blood, gore

It was one of those nights again for him.

Bruno sighs, his breath visible from the cold night air. Strolling through his neighborhood so late at night like this has become the norm for him since he first joined Passione. Many others see him as a man who can keep his head together, who doesn't seem deterred at the things done in the mafia business. But they would be surprised. Just because he's been in Passione for so long doesn't mean certain things in it don't plague his thoughts now and then. Mafioso or not, he's still human. Even he needs some time just to clear his head.

Even after Diavolo's defeat, and Giorno's new title as Don, however, Bruno still finds himself taking these nightly strolls.

It's just habit now, he supposes.

Just as he turned a corner, he heard something. Or rather, someone.

"You are Bruno Buccellati, correct?" a voice asked. Bruno halted in his tracks, eyes immediately roaming the area around him, looking for the person who just spoke to him.

"That depends on who's asking. Where are you?" he calls out.

"Behind you."

Bruno whips around and sees the owner of the voice, a woman, standing only a couple of feet away from him. Bruno immediately takes a few steps back, surprised by the initial proximity. How is it that he didn't notice her presence if she got this close to him? He didn't sense anyone following him. He didn't even hear any footsteps behind him as he was walking! Did this woman have a Stand power or something? Is she an enemy?

"Who are you?" he repeats. Bruno is keeping his full guard up, ready to summon Sticky Fingers if the woman tries anything.

"My name is of no importance," she says, her tone of voice monotonous, "I am here simply to give you something that once belonged to your father, Paolo Buccellati." That made Bruno pause. What?

"My father?" he whispers. "You...knew him? How? What was your relationship with him?"

A moment passes before she says, "...I was an old acquaintance of his many years ago. Nothing more, nothing less. Now, onto the matter at hand." She then held something out in her hand. There, dangling from her hand, was an amulet. A beautiful crimson jewel hung with a gold chain, the light of the moon reflecting off of its shiny surface.

"Paolo entrusted me to look after this amulet. He told me that if anything were to happen to him, I was to give it to you. And so, after learning of his passing, I went on to track you down so that I may finally leave it in your hands. Think of it as a memento of sorts of your late father."

Bruno glances between the woman and the amulet. Was she serious? "How do I know if what you're saying is the truth? What is your proof that that amulet belonged to my father?" The woman said nothing at first; she just clenched the amulet. But then, a strange light flickered from it, and Bruno gasped as a vision suddenly flashed into his mind.

He saw his father and the woman in an empty street- it looks like they were talking. Paolo then reached into his pocket and took out the same amulet the woman currently had and gave it to her. Bruno only managed to catch the last bit of the conversation.

"Promise me that you will hold onto this for now," Paolo says, "If something ever happens to me, I want you to give this to my son as soon as you can." The woman nodded. His father then walked off after that.

The vision ended there, and Bruno was left speechless. He just stared at the woman in disbelief.

"Was that proof enough?" She asks. Bruno bites his lip. He's still skeptical. This feels like it's too good to be true. This woman is oozing with suspicion, but that vision... He doesn't know how she showed it to him, but what he saw looked so real. His father was right there, giving that amulet to this woman. A small feeling in him wants to believe it. To have something left of his father to keep...

Bruno shakes his head. Ugh. He just doesn't know what to think.

"Well?" The woman was still waiting for his answer. Narrowing his eyes at the ground, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before finally reaching his decision.

"...All right," he says, "I'll take it."

He missed it, but an eerie grin formed on the woman's face for a split second before disappearing. She stepped forward and handed him the amulet. Gazing down at it, Bruno still felt rather uneasy but also a bit happy to have something left from his father.

He looked back up towards the woman, wanting to ask just a few more questions, but they quickly died in his throat as he found himself all alone. She had vanished. Looking left and right, Bruno couldn't find a trace of her. Yet again, he didn't sense her movement nor did he hear her footsteps. Very strange.

Clutching the amulet in his hand, and taking one last glance at his surroundings, he continued his way back home.

—————————

He was having a pleasant dream.

He was standing on a beach on a bright, sunny day. The wind blowing gently around him, the cries of the Black-tailed Gulls flying overhead, and the briny scent of the sea reaching his nose. It was peaceful. Soothing.

"Bruno!" He heard someone yell. He blinked. That voice. No, it couldn't be. He turned around, and sure enough, it was him.

His father.

Paolo was walking towards him, smiling and waving at him. Bruno smiled back, and went to approach him, but stopped as he saw something appear behind his father, and his dream soon became a terrible, terrible nightmare.

Behind his father was a big, dark figure. It had bright, glowing eyes and giant, ghoulish hands. The figure then all of a sudden lunged at his father, wrapping its hands around his body. His father yelled and started struggling to free himself. Bruno started running towards them to save him but was stopped as something grabbed onto his legs and made him fall, and he looked back and was shocked. Hands similar to the figure's had burst out from the sand beneath him and took hold of his legs. He went to push himself back up, but more hands came out and grabbed hold of the rest of his body. He was completely pinned down, he couldn't move.

Paolo started screaming. Bruno looked up and saw that the figure was increasing the pressure of its grip. He flinched as he heard the man's bones breaking under the intense pressure, blood starting to spurt out of his body.

"B-Bruno!" Paolo screamed, his eyes filled with fear and tears as he looked at his son, begging for help. Bruno thrashed around, desperate to free himself to save his father, but these hands were too strong. He couldn't do anything but watch in horror as the figure changed its hold on Paolo...

...and gruesomely ripped his body in two, his blood and organs all spilling onto the sand. The last thing he saw was his father's now cold, dead eyes boring into his.

Bruno screamed as he shot up from his bed. His eyes were wide with tears streaming down his face, sweating and breathing heavily. That dream, no- that nightmare, it was...horrifying. He's had nightmares before, but nothing that extreme; this was a first.

A low creaking sound suddenly reached his ears.

Bruno freezes. He slowly looks up, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

There, standing in the corner of his room, was the very same horrible, dark figure that he saw in his nightmare, just staring right at him. A sick cracking sound was made as it tilted it's head to the side, it's gaze never leaving Bruno's form.

With sudden adrenaline rushing through him, Bruno summons his Stand. "Sticky Fingers!" He yells. The Stand goes to punch the figure, but it vanishes into a black mist upon impact. Both he and his Stand surveyed the room for any sign of where it went when it reappeared in front of Sicky Fingers, grabbing it by the throat and pinning it to the wall. Bruno struggled to breathe as he felt the figure's grip on his Stand on himself.

He went to take a step back but tripped and fell back onto his nightstand, knocking down the lamp on it and incidentally turned it on, the sudden light making the figure release its hold with a shriek and disappearing.

Bruno called back Sticky Fingers as he panted, trying to regain his breath, his heart still racing. "Just what the hell was that?" He mutters. That thing was in his nightmare, and somehow it showed up here in real life? How was that possible? What could have happened? He just sighs as he brings a hand up to massage his forehead. He just didn't know.

On his nightstand, the amulet glints ominously.

#my writing #request #nevershoutnani #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo no kimyou na bouken #vento aureo #golden wind #bruno buccellati #not sfw #cw blood #cw gore #scenario

[dressliketaylorhill]

Taylor graced the cover of VOGUE Hong Kong’s February issue titled “Love for Fashion”, which was released on social media on February 1, 2021. She is wearing the Buccellati Yellow Gold Macri Classica Eternelle Ring. This bracelet is available for $4,700 on the Buccellanti U.S. website.

(I don’t know if this was done last month or last year, so I’m going to put 2020 because that sounds a little more realistic.)

Photographer: Luigi and Ilano Stylist: Schanel Bakkouche Hair Stylist: Pier Paolo Lai Makeup Artist: Georgi Sandev

#taylor hill #photoshoot #editorial photoshoot #2020 photoshoot #2021 #vogue hong kong #buccellati #ring #jewelry #fashion model #victoria's secret model #vs model #victoria's secret angel #vs angel #celebrity fashion #celebrity style #fashion blog #fashion blogger

[strikearose]

Wrong place wrong time

Okay, I’ve been obsessed over GioMis for the past few weeks so here’s a silly story with Thief!Giorno, Normaldude!Mista, Cop!Abbacchio and Chef!Buccellati.  You can also read it (clic) on ao3.

Napoli - a wonderful metropolitan city full of life, culture and history in the South West of Italy. A city full of hope and opportunities.

A city where it felt good - so good, to be back.

Guido Mista took a deep breath, completely unbothered by the mass of people rushing in the inside of the airport. Gosh - at least he had made it. He had successfully returned home - well, he had returned to the place he was willing to make his new home. Everything there was so bright, so shiny - upbeat!

The sun was dazing, the delicious aroma of Italy was tickling his nose, he was completely surrounded by pretty faces and dashing outfits. He was a simple man - all he wanted was to pursue a happy and cheerful life: eating pizza napoletana at lunch and going to the Stadio San Paolo when he'd saved enough money to watch a football game.

Bang.

Something suddenly brought him back to reality: someone in a hurry had just bumped into him and a long blond strand of hair whipped him in the face. Guido didn't paid much attention to the man who muttered a quick "Sorry" before resuming his path.

Well - he guessed that it was some kind of sign meaning that he needed to get going. After all, there were many things that needed to be done that day and it was already past noon.

Mista leaned down to grab his suitcase and go to the taxi stand - but he stopped on his track.

What the fuck?

Why was his luggage suddenly so light-weighted?

Panic seized the young dark-haired man as he tried to shake his arm, in vain.

The suitcase didn't make any sound, despite him clearly the small keychain at the effigy of his favorite band that he had attached to the handle. For god sake, that damn thing would make the most annoying tinkling song with every step he'd take - what the hell was happening?

He was just robbed - realization hit him hard as his thick eyebrows frowned. A pickpocket had ruined this marvelous new beginning on the very minute he had set foot in Napoli.

"Where the hell is that son of a...-," he stopped mid-sentence - the guy from earlier, it had to be him.

He hadn't had the time to look at his face, in what direction could he be heading now? What was he wearing again? Hell- all he could remember was the lock of golden hair - there was no split end and any dandruff in there.

And it smelled like fresh lavender.

There was no way he could find him among the crowd of tourists. Mista rummaged through his pockets and let out a sigh of relief when he realized that, at least, his wallet was still there. Feeling hopeless, his black eyes landed the wall clock that now indicated 12:18. before being drawn to a vibrant purple shape.

Adrenaline kicked in as he followed the form of that plum shirt to settle on a short blond braid.

Wait - it wasn't blond but golden blond.

That fucking thief! He could swear it was him.

"HEY YOU!," he roared in panic.

His scream managed to hit the bullseye. Despite the noise of the airport, it seemed to the poor Italian man that every pair of eyes instantly turned in his direction. Everyone was now staring at him with confusion, security guards and thief included. They locked eyes for a brief moment before the robber turned away and resumed his walk, with the utmost serenity.

What the...?

It was him, Guido was now sure of it. And there was no way he could alert the officers about what had just happened, he wouldn't have the time to - the thief had just left the airport entrance, he was going to get away with his stuff! So Mista did what any other football aficionado would have done if they were in his situation: he channeled his best Maradona impression and sprinted in pursuit of his precious belongings.

People were looking at him with puzzled expressions as he run through the crowd but it didn't stop the brown-haired man.

Hell no - he needed to get his bag back.

There was no way he was going to lose the few things he had bother to bring with him to a damn crook on his first day here.

Mista was now frantically running in the Calabria Avenue - the sun was at its' zenith and he was probably sweating like a pig but at least he had managed to reduce the distance between him and the thief. What kind of burglar could wear such flamboyant purple clothes? He had always imagined them entirely dressed in black, with gloves, dark hat and all that jazz. They didn't have the luxury to stand out, and yet, the man he was pursuing was walking at a swift and confident pace - as if he hadn't noticed Mista following him, as if he hadn't been urging him to stop for the last two minutes. But just as the Italian began to wonder whereas he had mistaken him for the real thief, the blond made a sudden turn and disappeared.

"Shit, where did he go?"

Guido was now standing in front of a crossroad - he could either go left, right or straight ahead even if it would take him further in the opposite direction of the city centre.

Well - desperate situations called for drastic remedies.

Eenie, meenie, miney - mo.

Chance was pledging him not to go left and Mista's life had been nothing but bad luck these last few months, so he decided instead to take that direction.

And there he was now, stuck in a narrow alley, facing the back of his nemesis.

The thief no longer seemed to be keen on ignoring his presence - he turned around to look right at his victim. And any profanity that had been dying to come out of Mista's lips instantly vanished before the sight that was in front of him.

He was strikingly... pretty.

He had the most delicate features - deep emerald eyes that were looking at him with curiosity, a straight and elegant nose as well as full (and probably well moisturized) lips.

In one word, with his halo of golden hair, he was the image of innocence itself.

"Is everything alright, sir?" - of course, his nemesis was the one who ended up breaking the silence. How dared he feign candidness so well?

Mista tore himself away from the contemplation of the purple jacket that had to be tailor-made to look at the suitcase laying on the stranger's feet.

"That's mine!," Guido said as he vigorously grabbed his precious belonging.

"I beg your pardon?"

Mista shot a furious look at the thief and shook the chain that was attached to the handle of his case.

It twinkled.

He was right about it: that guy was a fucking thief.

"See that ? That's an official Sex Pistol key ring. I bought it years ago on Ebay - it's a very limited edition."

The pretty con artist arched a perfectly manicured brow.

"You stole my stuff, you truffatore!"

Anger filled him more and more as he watched the blond man remained impassible. He didn't seem the least concerned by what was happening.

"I hadn't noticed, there must be an explanation." The thief paused for a moment and his jade eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh, weren't you at the airport earlier?"

Guido frowned, his hands clenching firmly his suitcase.

"Yeah - but don't you try to fool...-," the younger-looking man cut him off.

"I was there too. What flight were you on?"

What the hell was that question?

"I was in Roma but...-"

"L'Aeroporto di Roma–Fiumicino," the thief softly nodded his head, as if it made perfect sense. "I was there too, we were on the same flight then. The customs must have mixed up our bags. Well - they do look similar, don't you think?"

Mista carefully inspected the two suitcases - they were black and quite worn out. The only difference was the key chain and despite of that detail, they did look exactly identical to each other... As well as to the majority of those in Italy: it was the most common model of travel bags.

The frown on his face grew even more pronounced as he eyed the blond man standing before him.

Well - if he was a crook, he certainly didn't look the part.

He was way too elegant and good-looking to go through people's pockets for a living.

And his explanation somehow made perfect sense.

Guido finally let out a sigh and the man smiled courtly at him.

"I apologize deeply for the inconvenience, sir. May I now get my belongings back?," he asked Mista.

"Yeah, sure..."

Guido was now starting to secondhand embarrassment Shit - he had just chased after him like a madman for no reason since the guy hadn't done anything wrong.

Gosh - why did he always have to be so reckless.

"Uhh," the poor citizen cleared his throat after receiving his bag. "You haven't touch anything in there, right?"

His voice sounded hesitant and Mista cursed himself a second time. He must looked like such a nutcase.

"Yeah, I swear I..-"

A very familiar music suddenly cut him off and they both frowned.

Boogie Wonderland.

It was the stupid ringtone Narancia had set on his phone.

And it wasn't coming from his back-pocket, where he was sure he had placed it.

Figlio di putanna.

Caught red-handed, the thief (whose ears had turned bright crimson) obediently took out the Iphone of his inside pocket to hand it to its' owner.

"What is happening here?"

They both turned in direction of the new voice.

It was the airport's security service.

Thanks god - things were finally working in Mista’s favor.

"That guy stole my bag and my phone," the brown-haired man pointed to the thief who had recovered his perfect composure. How on hell was he able to do that?

"Police is on their way. We call them as soon as we saw you rushing out the airport. We thought you were some sort of dangerous lunatic."

The two guards then smirked when they saw who the felon was:

"Serves you right for picking on an olympic runner!"

**

13:45. Mista clenched his teeth when he saw the time on his phone. They've been waiting in the police station for more than an hour now.

And it was his first day in Napoli.

Gosh - why the hell did he have to be here? They've caught the thief, they knew what had happened - and it wasn't as if the guy would magically disappear in the blink on an eye. He had things - so many things - to do today and instead he had to be here. Stuck with the company of a pickpocket that looked too comfortable in such a situation. In the fucking police precinct.

He glared at the blond man sitting next to him who was reading an old Vogue edition.

The thief briefly raised his head and shot him a curious look.

"Is everything alright?", he still had that innocuous tone.

Mista stared at him with mild anger.

"Do you know for how long we've been sitting here? A fucking hour! Did they forget about us?"

The blond shrugged and turned a page:

"Well, this kind of thing always takes time. We have to be patient."

"How can you be so calm?," Guido exclaimed. "Wait, it's not your first time here, right? You're some sort of a professional pickpocket or something like that."

The gorgeous golden-haired man smiled and Mista frowned - it wasn't a compliment.

They were interrupted by the arrival of a police officier - thanks god! The man who sat on the opposite side of the table had some sort of washed-out green hair and Mista couldn't help but wonder if he truly didn't have a chin. But what really mattered was that out of the three of them, the thief still seemed to be the more relaxed.

"So, um," the policeman began in a weak voice. "You're here because of an attempted robbery near the Airport, is that correct?"

They both nodded in silence.

"I need your names to complete the report," he looked at Mista. "So, you are Mr...-"

"Mista. M-i-s-ta. And first name's Guido."

The constable carefully tipped it into the computer.

"And you are...?"

"Haruno Shiobana."

Mista looked at the thief in surprise, Haruno? What the hell - that guy didn't look Asian at all.

"You're.. a foreigner?," the policeman asked, puzzled.

"My family is from Japan. But my name might be difficult to understand, here's my id card for reference."

"Thank you."

They waited until the officer stopped tipping.

"You don't...," he was frowning. "...really look like your picture..."

'Haruno Shiobana' didn't seem the least affected by how dubious the policeman was.

"It was taken before I started dying my hair. Look." he placed his hands around his face to hide the blond strands.

Guido took this opportunity to take a closer look at the thief. There was no sign of dark roots so this guy was either lying about not being a natural blond, or he had a really skilled hairstylist.

"Oh, I can see it now!," 'Haruno' was granted his card back and Mista rolled his eyes.

Whatever - he simply wanted to get the hell out of here as fast as possible.

The officer cleared his throat and began his questioning:

"So... Do you often target tourists, Mr. Mista?"

...

What the fuck?

Guido opened his mouth wide. He didn't miss the smirk that the thief managed to conceal a few seconds later.

"How often do I what?," he shook his head in exasperation. "Hey! I'm the victim here. He is the thief, not me! I've done nothing wrong!"

Haruno snorted.

The officer looked at Shiobana and then at him.

His eyes lingered on the blond's immaculate tailor-made suit. Then on his leather shoes. And finally on the pretty face that was displaying nothing but a disconcerting serenity.

Then, he looked at him up and down - from his red beanie to that old vintage rock band sweater. Mista knew how nervous he must have looked in that moment but well - everybody would be in such a situation, right? Being trapped in a police station wasn't pleasant.

Especially after the last months he'd spent.

In the end he couldn't really blame the officer: he was sweating like a pig while Haruno's skin was simply glowing.

"I can't believe it - Giorno fucking Giovanna!"

The three pairs of eyes turned to the door where another policeman was now standing.

**

Mista quickly unlocked his phone (one-two-three-five-six-seven) to check the time while the two policemen were arguing - it was now 14:10. He didn't notice how Haruno (or 'Giovanna', or whatever his real name was) had peaked over his shoulder with curiosity.

"He said his name was Shiobana.", the first officer was trying to push back the newcomer who had already settled on the desk.

"He's a pathological liar. You can't believe anything he says. Let me take care of that."

The two men were as different as chalk and cheese. The new officer was exuding confidence and had that whole 'quit your bullshit' demeanor.

"But Prosciutto put me in charge of the case!"

"Then go make him a cappuccino or something." The grey-haired man rolled his eyes and took his cap off to place it on the desk. "I'll deal with Giovanna."

"You can't stole my case like that!"

Mista shot a quick look at Giovanna who shrugged in return.

"Inspector Abbacchio has never seemed to quite fond of me," he quietly told Mista for sole explanation.

Their discussion was cut short by the tearful departure of the green-haired policeman. The new detective was already reading the report.

Well, at least, Mista hoped that things would be over soon.

"So...", Abbacchio glared at the thief. "You had to pick on the first clueless tourist you could find, huh?"

Mista almost protested, feeling hurt. He wasn't a stupid tourist - he was even supposed to settle in Napoli on that very day.

Unfortunately for him, the inspector had a keen sense of perception: "You have something to say about that?"

He quickly shook his head and the 'questioning' continued.

"I can't believe you finally get caught right in the act - I wish I could have been there."

Giorno Giovanna didn't bother to answer - his arms were folded over his chest, he was looking calmly at the policeman. But from where he was, Mista noticed the fact that he was slowly taping the ground with his left foot.

Seems like they were both nervous now.

"Well, I'm waiting?"

Mista suddenly stopped daydreaming and raised his head as he realized that the officer was talking to him. He screeched his cheek: "Sorry, what were you saying?"

The policeman rolled his eyes in annoyance but still repeated:

"You want to press charges, right? I'll get the papers."

"Hmm yeah, I guess?"

Abbacchio stopped on his track and both he and Giorno turned to look at Mista as he had grown a second head.

"'You guess'?", his eyes were shining with sarcasm. "I'm sorry, you're not sure you want to?"

"No!", Mista almost began to stutter. "I mean, of course I do. But do I have to do it now? I've been there for almost two hours already, and I really need to go!"

He had arrived in Napoli at noon and he's been trapped in the police station ever since. There was no way he was going to wait here for another two hours - not when he still didn't know for sure if he was going to have a roof under his head for the night.

The policeman's jaw tightened. And Mista realized that Giorno hadn't taken his eyes off him for a while now.

Gosh - he wouldn't have complained about the attention in another situation, but it was putting some pressure on him.

"You have better things to do than getting the felon who fucking robbed you in the airport arrested?"

Inspector Abbacchio had always taken great pride of his gut feeling - he knew for a fact that Holy Giovanna was nothing but trouble. And right now, he definitely knew that there was something wrong too with the dark-haired young man.

"Well..," stammered Guido. "Not when you put in that way but..."

The policeman cut him off:

"You'll have plenty of time to go for a walk and take pictures later. I guarantee you that Giovanna won't kindly agree to come back here tomorrow. "

Mista shot a glance at the thief who almost looked offended.

"Can't you keep him here tonight?," he tried his best to ignore the daggers he received from the two others. "And I'm not a dumb tourist!"

Mista immediately regretted what had just come out of his mouth.

"What are you, then?" - it was Giorno's voice. Fuck him.

Guido didn't know if the latter was really invested in the discussion or if he was just being used as a mere tool of diversion.

"Hey!, you don't get to ask me questions!"

"You're right, shut up," the Inspector glared at Giovanna. "But that's what I'm wondering too."

And that was it - his stupid loudmouth had once again gotten him into trouble.

"I live here."

Abbacchio was quick to retort:

"No, you're not. I don't know you."

"Well - I'm living here starting today. This is why I have to hurry to see if I can still crash at my friend's for the night. "

Guido cringed as he realized that he had probably over-shared but the policeman wasn't even listening to him anymore.

"You're moving in today - and all you bring with you is a suitcase?"

Abbacchio wasn't glaring at the thief anymore, he was glaring at him.

He seemed to had caught Giorno's curiosity too as he was also staring at Guido, eyebrows frowned.

Mista now knew for a fact that he was fucked.

"Open it."

**

Giorno Giovanna was once again the one who ended up breaking the silence - of course it had to be him. His voice was as calm as usual, it was as if he didn't know that everything that had happened up to that point was entirely his damn fault.

"I swear that I didn't know what was in there, Inspector."

Guido wanted to shot him a venomous glance but failed once he realized how intense Giorno's stare was on him.

Gosh - he almost blushed when he met those deep emerald eyes. What the hell? That guy was a criminal.

"Why do you have a gun with you? And why the fuck didn't the customs arrest you?"

The three of them had turned pale at the sight of the ancient pistol.

"Well... It's not really a gun," he felt obliged to justify himself. "It's more of an old family memento, you know?"

His argument didn't seem to win over his audience.

"I'm not even sure if it works for real. My bisnnono told my padre that he got it from his zio but we're kind of estranged from them now. But well, I guess it's still a very valuable family possession?"

Abbacchio was still glaring at him so he quickly added:

"And I have a permit for it. It's in the bag. I mean - that's where I put it this morning. But then this guy..."

He pointed at Giorno but stopped mid-track when he realized that the latter was smiling at him. What the hell was that for?

"I mean...," he tried his best to ignore his quickening pulse rate - what the hell? no matter how dazzling and cute that smile was he was still a con artist for fucks' sake - and continued. "Never mind, I'll go fetch it."

The policeman flinched but remembered that he had safely put the gun inside a drawer as soon as it was taken out the bag.

"Here, see?"

He didn't bother to look at the paper the brown-haired man was handing him and snatched it out of his hands to bury it in the same drawer as the gun.

"I'm still not giving it back to you today."

Mista nodded - well, that worked just fine for him.

At least he was sure that he wouldn't get arrested for possession of a prohibited weapon as soon as he'd get the hell out of this place.

"I'll see by myself if what you're saying is true," the Inspector was scowling at him with suspicion. If it was up to him, there was no doubt that he would've thrown them both in a cell long ago. "And I'll do a background check. Where do you come from?"

"Roma," Giorno stated matter-of-factly.

Why the hell did he have to butt in? They were not discussing his case, yet.

Abbacchio raised an eyebrow at that.

"And where precisely?"

Giorno shrugged and crossed his legs, the policeman took out his notebook and Guido grew even paler.

There it was.

"Rebibbia."

The two men immediately raised their heads and looked at him, eyes wide open.

"You were in jail?"

**

Guido Mista was a simple man. He liked to go out, listen to music and mess around with his friends.

But his life wasn't simple - he was a constant victim of bad luck.

For instance, if he hadn't met this Giovanna - if the thief had chosen another victim at the airport, then he wouldn't be here now, forced to explain what had went wrong in his life to complete strangers.

It seemed to him that he was always in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

That night, he had simply wanted to buy a bottle of Martini and had taken the wrong shortcut - he had instead got mixed up in a sorrowful event. Four assholes were assaulting a girl - all Roma must had heard her screams of terror, but Guido was the only one who had somehow managed to approach the crime scene. He didn't know any of them - and although he liked to fight from time to time, he was clearly no match for them. What he had intended to do was to call the Police but he hadn't been discreet enough. The abusers had then tried to silence him and he had ended up smashing his bottle onto their heads. It was thanks to the cutting glass of his Martini bottle that he was still alive and that the attackers and the victim had ended up in the hospital.

But one of them must have been somewhat relevant because Guido was the one who had been sentenced to four years of prison for assault. He had been released after only two months spent in jail when the victim had finally gathered enough courage the testify.

Mista had tried to be a good person in a rotten city. And it had not worked out for him.

That was why he had such high hopes and dreams for Napoli - the city where he had innocently spent the best vacations of his childhood.

But it was his first day here and he was already in trouble.

Guido scratched his cheek as he basically finished telling the story of his life. Well - he had now over-share for good, that was for sure.

How embarrassing.

The silence that followed his explanation was heavy.

To be fair - it was quite an astonishing story.

The two other men in the room probably didn't know what to answer yet so they remained silent. And skeptic.

Then, Giorno once again decided that it's been dramatic for enough time:

"I believe him."

That dear Giorno - finally someone who understood that he was just always incredibly out of luck. Mista could have almost cried with relief if he hadn't recalled that everything that was happening was because of him.

"How sweet of you Giovanna, but no one asked for your fucking opinion."

The brown-haired young man glared at the Inspector. Why was it so difficult to make him understand that he was the most honest and unlucky citizen?

"Just do your background check on me then. I told you the truth."

"I definitely will," Abbacchio lifted the tip of his pen. "In the mean time... I'll keep your id card as well as your passeport. Don't leave the city for now."

"I just told you that I'm literally moving here today. I don't plan on vanishing into thin air or anything."

"Well, one's never too careful."

Mista was pretty sure that it was meant as a cutting remark for the thief but Giorno remained utterly unbothered. He was playing with his expensive watchband instead.

"Well...," the policeman cleared his throat. "Moving on - let's talk about the case now."

Mista let himself fall back on the chair, hard. He couldn't believe it. Even after everything that had happened, the detective had his head screwed on right.

"I still really need to go. Can't you just..."

"Bullshit," Abbacchio scowled at him. "We could have been done by now if you hadn't boasted about your life. I've listened to your non-sense for over an hour."

"An hour?," Mista turned pale as Giorno reached out his arm to show him the dial of his wristwatch.

15:47.

Holy shit.

Forget about meeting up with Narancia - he needed to ensure he still had a job now.

"Okay," the dark-haired man rose to his feet. "That's enough. I can't miss the job interview on top on everything. I still have rights, no? I really need to go."

Abbacchio's scowl was no longer having any effect on him.

Fuck him.

"You can't - if you go now, Giovanna's going out too."

Giorno was looking at him with interest.

Well - fuck him too.

"I don't care - I'm dropping the charges, okay? It was a misunderstanding 'cause we have the same suitcase." The look of surprise on Giorno's face was for once genuine. "And if you care that much about the tourists' safety.. Just reinforce the damn airport's security. That’s not my problem!"

If one look could kill, Mista would have never had the further opportunity to settle in Napoli. But it seemed that Abbacchio, for once, couldn't think of a clap back.

It wasn't as if he could handcuff him to the desk and force him to sign the complaint. Unfortunately.

The policeman looked in considerable detail at the punk who was already standing up, smoothing the creases of his pants, and the supposed victim, glaring at him.

"A job interview you say? Who could be dumb enough to employ you?"

It was Abbacchio's turn to grow pale.

**

Il Libeccio Ristaurante.

Your traditional family restaurant located in the midst of downtown Napoli. When his friend (and hopefully future roomie) had told him about the opportunity, Mista had hurriedly tried to find out more on the internet. And the Libeccio was the kind of restaurant which only had four or five star reviews.

He had contacted two weeks ago the owner - a welcoming man, who hadn't paid any attention to his police record and had offered him an interview followed by a trial period.

Today at 2pm. So he'd had the time to brief him for dinner-the rush hour.

It was past four o'clock when Mista passed the doorstep of the restaurant, followed by the grumpy policeman who had furiously insisted on escorting him.

Everything was just fucking great.

They were welcomed by a dark-haired man wearing a chef's hat and apron - and fuck, Mista immediately recognized the voice he had spoken to over the phone.

Shit - he wasn't expecting to have to face him so soon.

"Hmm, hi," he bowed his head sheepishly. "I'm Guido, Narancia's friend. I'm sorry I know we were supposed to meet earlier but so many things happened. I...-"

The Inspector behind him grunted and Mista understood that he'd better not start telling the story of his life all over again.

The chef looked at him inquisitively for a moment before addressing the policeman:

"I wasn't expecting to see you this afternoon, Leone. How did you meet the newest member of my staff?"

A sigh of relief escaped from his lips when he heard the words of his superior. God bless this man.

"It’s a long story," Abbacchio sighed and loosened up the collar of his uniform before approaching Bruno Buccellati. "Why do you keep on hiring people with that much issues?"

"He's a family friend."

The grey-haired man rolled his eyes - there was no way that Ghirga troublesome kid was family, even though he had to admit his shenanigans were as absurd as sometimes hysterical.

The chief turned to Mista and smiled warmly, as if he exactly knew how much of a tyrant Abbacchio was to anyone but him.

"Please don't mind what Leone had said. Napoli can really be impressive so I understand it took you time to find the place. Shall we start by a tour of the kitchen?"

"Yeah! Uhh, I mean, yes please. And thank you so much for disregarding how I was late and stuff."

Bruno nodded and motioned for Mista to follow him, but as they were leaving the entrance, the Inspector grumbled something about "fishy tourist" and the chef turned to face him.

"You seem awfully tensed today tresore mio. I'll help you relax."

Guido tensed as it suddenly came down to him that the reason why the police officer had been so adamant in following him there wasn't for the restaurant in itself.

And that was just an innuendo, wasn't it?

"I'm still on duty you know that."

Abbacchio's voice was gruff, but he still took place at the nearest table.

"I'm not offering you a drink, but some dessert. And why don't you take care of Guido's suitcase? Put it in the locker-room. "

**

Mista couldn't believe how lucky he was.

He was getting on very well with his boss (that man was a saint), the staff was welcoming and no one had commented on his sweater that definitely didn't respect the dress-code. God - they had even offered him the most delicious brushetta he had ever eaten when his stomach had growled in hunger and embarrassment.

Mista was now officially on trial until the end of the week - and it already felt like his future was so much brighter.

Luck seemed to be finally turning in his favor.

Once the tour was over and after he had taken the time to run water over his face and put on the waiter's uniform, the brown haired man was surprised to see that Abbacchio was still in the restaurant, savoring his pannacotta.

The doorbell suddenly rang and Guido almost fainted when he saw who had just appeared.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here, Giovanna?" the policeman roared.

His exact thoughts.

**

18:24.

The waiter sent a hesitant look to the client who was reading the menu with attention. He still couldn't believe what was happening - just why was he here? Why was fate so keen on playing pranks on him? The blond man suddenly closed the card, ready to order. He swept the room with his emerald eyes until they landed on Guido.

And Giorno then had to audacity to wave.

There was no way he was going to serve that thief. Someone else would have to.

Mista promptly looked away in annoyance and went in search of a coworker to dump Giorno to. He might be the newbie there, the other waiters seemed cool enough to help. Unfortunately for Guido, the first person he came across was Buccellati coming back from the outside with a box of free vegetables.

"Need a hand chef?"

Bruno shook his hand gently. "No, thank you I'll be fine. Why don't you go attend to that customer instead? It seems like he's been waiting."

Shit. There was no way he could refuse. Mista had just managed to convince him to take him for a trial period - he couldn't let him down.

"Uh, sure," he screeched his cheek. "I'll go right now."

And there he was - serving the damn crook with whom he had spent half of the afternoon in the commissary.

"I'm glad you got the job." Giorno smiled at him, he almost looked sincere.

But Guido now knew better.

"It's not thanks no you. Why are you here?"

The blond man seemed surprised by the question.

"I was starving, I had an exhausting day.."

Mista clenched his fist and Giorno took notice of that.

"Fine, I was starving and I wanted to piss Abbacchio off."

The waiter was about to comment on how he was seriously pissing him off too when the thief motioned discreetly in the direction where his boss was standing. Buccellati was watching from afar his exchange with Giorno - and he was frowning. Crap.

There was no way he could let this saint man down, no matter how much it was costing him to serve the blonde.

It was some sort of divine test.

"So...,", he took his notebook out. "What would you like to order, sir?"

Giorno smirked but - thanks god - he didn't try to push his luck. He ordered a Caesar salad and the waiter returned to the kitchen with the promise of being back very soon.

**

The charming thief thanked him politely when he put the plate on the table, but if he was expecting Guido to wish him buon appetito, he was wrong.

"Don't you even think about stealing something."

It was a serious warning, he really needed the job but the blond rolled his eyes to heaven:

"Well what would you like me to steal? The knife? The chili sauce?"

Mista instantly removed the red bottle and put it in his uniform's pocket.

"And what if I want some hot sauce now?", Giorno's voice sounded annoyed and offended.

But how could you blame Mista for being careful?

"Spicy food is bad for the health so just eat your damn salad!"

Hell, in that moment Mista would have loved for Abbacchio to have stayed - the latter would not have let the thief out of his sight and Mista could have peacefully attend to the other table. But the Inspector had reluctantly agreed to return to the police station once Buccellati had intervened, not appreciating the fact that he was visibly trying to scare off one of his customers.

God - why did they have to make so painfully obvious who wore the pants in their relationship?

Anyway, all he had to do now was to ensure nothing would go wrong again because of Giorno.

Therefore, he had to place the other clients as far as he could from the thief's table.

**

Giorno only noticed the fact that he was being isolated when the third couple was sent off to the other corner of the room. Despite their plea to be near the window.

He stared icily at the waiter who grinned at him in return.

**

Guido was loving this job - he knew he was real good at it. It wasn't his first time as a waiter, and his performance (as the tips were demonstrating) had always pleased his employers. He was quick, remembered easily what today's special was and what was on the menu - and he was a smooth talker.

The old grannies, the hipsters, the teenagers who enjoyed music and tv shows, the impressionable timid girls - hell, even those who needed help on their first date: the brown-haired man knew how to get on anyone's good side very quickly.

The pretty brunette let out a chuckle as Guido wished her to enjoy her meal, bella.

It would be a lie to pretend that his looks weren't helping him with his work. Or with girls. And boys.

Mista shot a quick look at the blond thief.

Giorno huffed and glared at him.

**

The Libeccio wasn't that big so the thief ended up having company anyway. Mista was about to ask the two girls of the table near if they had decided what to order when he overheard their conversation.

"I hadn't seen him since High School but wow, Giogio looks as cool as ever."

'Giogio'? What a cute nickname. He was certain the blond man hated it with passion.

But 'cool'?

Mista took the time to recall the long eyelashes, the faint fragrance of lavender and the slender silhouette of the crook.

Nah - he wasn't cool, but more like really pretty.

The waiter felt his cheeks reddened when Giorno raised a delicate eyebrow at him. Shit, he had been caught staring.

He cleared his throat and walked to the blond's, faking sudden mistrust.

"Do you really need the little spoon for your salad?"

Giorno Giovanna might be absolutely charming, he was still a sneaky thief. God knew what he was planning to do next.

And there was no way Mista would fall for that act.

"I will need it for my dessert," said Giogio. "Because I'll take a scoop of chocolate ice-cream."

Guido took out the note-book to take his order but the pickpocket cut him off:

"Once I'll be done with my salad."

And he sure was taking his sweet, sweet time.

**

Giorno ended up paying for his meal twenty minutes after. He used his card and took a small minty candy from the box on the counter. Mista cleared his throat and politely opened and hold the door for him. In the end, the blond had nothing funny - he guessed that he was truly hungry after all.

And then, he felt it.

A very light touch on his back-pocket.

He fucking knew it: that guy was a restless criminal.

He wasn't going to fall for it a second time. "You!," he roared as he realized that... His phone was still in there.

"It was delicious, thank you," Giorno was now whispering. "I left a tip under the napkin."

The blond man winked at him and then he was gone.

**

Mista didn't rush immediately to the now vacant seat of the blond, no. It would have make him way too happy.

He managed to wait for two minutes before clearing his table and discovering...

A ten-euro bill, and nothing more.

He checked around the table, but that was it. Nothing else.

And the little spoon was still there.

Well - it wasn't as if he was really expecting to find his phone number.

**

It was way past midnight when Mista finally managed to throw himself on Narancia's sofa bed - he sighed happily. It had been a long day, filled with unexpected twists and emotions but he had made it - he was in Napoli. He had a job, Narancia was way too happy to have someone to share domestic chores with and he was even already starting to make new friends.

His team had invited him for a drink at the end of his shift and Guido had gladly accepted a few rounds of tequila.

His phone vibrated and Guido smiled and stretched out his arm. It must be Buccellati, his new boss, who he had found out earlier could be a real mama bear and had asked him to send a message once he'd get home safely.

But it certainly wasn't him.

What the hell?

Mista quickly opened the conversation he didn't know even exist between him and a certain "Giorno G."

How...?

Guido realized that he had sent (or rather that someone had sent for him) a picture to this number earlier. He almost chocked when he saw the selfie of the blond man taken in (he recognized the curtains) the restaurant.

When exactly had he managed to do that?

The waiter had kept him under close surveillance all the time.

The message he had just received was another photo - it was a very familiar bottle of chili sauce.

His phone vibrated again but this time it was a text:

"I knew you wouldn't notice."

Guido opened up his new contact info and saw that the thief had even taken the time to sent another selfie as his profile picture.

He replied to Giorno without thinking:

"why, just why??"

Giovanna almost immediately texted back.

"You seem like a lot of fun to be around."

"you fucking tried to rob me?!!!"

"You're too easy to fool Guido."

Well, he was right about that.

"Thanks for not pressing charges, I really appreciate it."

Mista paused for a moment and wondered whereas he was really texting a thief. And why he was doing that.

What the hell was happening to him?

"well, you returned my stuff and the situation was messy enough"

"and i still nailed the interview so"

"I'm glad you got the job."

"you already said it"

"I mean it."

Embarrassed, the waiter took another sip of beer. He and Narancia had also wanted to celebrate their newfound roomie situation once he'd gotten home.

"The chef is really good. I might go visit the restaurant again."

"you should, you're a good tipper"

"And you're okay as a waiter."

Mista giggled at that.

"u know i'm the best"

"I wonder what makes you think so."

Guido knew for a fact that he was drunk - there was no way he would ever text that to a thief if he was sober.

No way.

"well i always know what's on the menu"

"and next time, it'll be me-n-u"

Despite his state of drunkenness, Mista still cringed hard (very hard) at his joke.

And the fact that Giorno was taking what felt like hours to answer was making it even worse.

"Ahahah."

...

Well - maybe the blond was drunk too.

Or maybe (just maybe) he somehow enjoyed his pathetic attempt at flirting?

Mista nearly chocked on his drink - god, no.

There was no way he was really trying to flirt with that crook.

"There's something I'm wondering."

"?"

"The gun really doesn't work?"

"i dunno, i never actually try to put bullets on"

"why? are you into gangster and stuff"

"Ahah, I was just curious."

He still didn’t answer Mista’s question.

"wait, i should be the one worrying"

"Why do you say that?"

Mista hesitated one last moment before sending the message.

Fuck it - he had the excuse of being drunk.

"'cause you have to be on the fbi's most wanted list, it's illegal to look this gopd"

"good*"

"Thank you Guido."

The waiter raised an eyebrow, baffled.

Okay, it wasn't really the kind of response he was expecting.

"You're quite handsome yourself."

Mista started giggling again. Louder this time, because Narancia actually came out of his room to see if he was okay.

Of course not.

He was shamelessly flirting with the guy who had stolen his fucking bag at the airport twelve years ago.

"ya know, you r definitly on top of my to do list too"

The euphoria subsisted almost as soon as he sent the message.

What the fuck was he saying?

"uhhh"

Giorno was now taking his time to answer - it was a classic Mista move: ruining everything by being too much, straight away.

"sry, too soon?"

"No, it's fine. I just didn't know what to say."

Guido let out a sigh.

"sorry im a bit drunk"

"and often awkward"

Thinking about how much he had overshared in the police station was making him want to down another bottle.

"You're not. I think you're funny."

Oh caro, precioso Giorno - that guy really had to be send from heaven.

"I think I'll definitely go back to the restaurant now."

Guido found himself grinning like a moron at his phone.

Shit - he had to think of a witty come-back.

"well as long as u dont try to steal from me again i guess its ok"

"Aside from your heart? Nothing more, I swear."

...

"Gosh, sorry I'm so bad at it..."

Guido was at loss of words.

He couldn't wait to try all of his thief-themed pick up lines on him.

#GioMis #giorno x mista #giorno giovanna #mista x giono #giorno x guido #guido x giorno #giorno giovanna x mista #giomis fanfiction #silly me #i'm sorry for bullying you pesci #yes its my headcanon that narancia is a fan of earth wind and fire #fight me

[jojosfluffyadventure]

Not really a request just asking for a list, but which JoJo characters would binge watch baking shows with me?

Of course, dear anon ^v^ Now this is just my personal take on who would enjoy it most, but of course, any and all of your faves would be happy to!

Part 1:

Jonathan

Erina

Speedwagon

Tattoo

Dire

Part 2:

Caesar

Suzi Q

Smokey

George II

Granny Erina

Uncle Speedwagon

Santana

Part 3:

Holly

Avdol

Kakyoin

Polnareff

Grandma Suzi

Roses

Malena

N’Doul (he likes listening to the baking process)

Chaka (Pre-posession)

Part 4:

Okuyasu

Yukako

Tonio

Reimi (and Arnold)

Mikitaka

Rohan (for the knowledge)

Grandad Joseph (and Shizuka)

Part 5:

Bruno

Mista

Fugo

Pesci

Gelato

Doppio

Tiziano

Polnareff

Coco Jumbo

Paolo Buccellati

#jjba #headcanon #list #phantom blood #battle tendency #stardust crusaders #diamond is unbreakable #vento aureo #jojo's bizarre adventure #Anonymous

[arcitraditore]

buccellati lets everyone assume his favourite colour is white but it’s actually yellow, and he dislikes sweets but he has a small bag of lemon sours— specifically perle di sole— on him for his rare cravings. he’ll never admit to either of these things, of course. even to bucci gang. but sometimes you can catch a faint hint of citrus on his breath.

#[ — HEADCANON; ] #minor headcanons 2k20 / #perle di sole are an amalfi thing iirc so they're local enough that buccellati would like them / #while being far enough away that they were a treat / #on their rare weekends off paolo would take him down the coast /