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elettro-volpe · 11 months
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the “mediterranean diet” according to every Italian I’ve met:
- sweet pastry for breakfast
- snack around 11-12 (also sweet most likely)
- quick, casual lunch (like a panino) in the mid to late afternoon
- multi-course feast circa 9 PM
- approximately 3 to 8 espresso shots spread throughout the day
-cigarette(s) (optional)
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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im such a slut for men who don’t exist
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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i don't want sweet people to have a sweet relationship and i don't want fucked up weirdos to have a fucked up weird relationship. i want fucked up weirdos to have a sweet relationship. whats not clicking
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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my favorite characters
gay
in love with best friend to a wildly codependent degree
on god we gonna GET you a therapist bro 
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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my favourite genre of fictional men are those ones who should be cool and badass because of their powers or character designs, but are pathetic instead. never had a good day in their life. an insult from a child could probably make them cry. wet paper bag men. you know the ones
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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me: oh that’s some really sweet good art of two guys in love in their average flat. what a gentle depiction of everyday life
the op’s tags: anthro!courage the cowardly dog/john the baptist
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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(searching my ship that nobody ever draws) maybe today…. maybe today someone drew my ship that nobody ever draws
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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[TRANSCRIPT:
Mafia dude: BOSS! We found out who the mole is! It’s polyamorous Tony.
Mafia leader: that rat fuck! I want him dead! I want his wife dead! I want his wife dead! I want his wife dead! I want his wi-
END TRANSCRIPT]
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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Shout out to fanfic writers who write their favourite characters into incredibly specific niches like complex academic studies or horse taming or the intricacies of the fashion industry or historical politics just because they love it. I do in fact want to learn about your niche interests disguised as a slash fic, thank you
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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pew pew pew!!!
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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There’s official art of Bel in a cute casual outfit and for the longest time I thought this boy actually had a weed design on his shirt, but upon closer inspection I realized it’s supposed to be a fan of knives…
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R.I.P. Weed Bel :(
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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Coming back to early KHR manga chapters and I just adore how homely the story is. Sure it was a comedy manga that hardly took itself seriously at the time, but that's probably exactly why it's such a treasure.
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They're fighting for Mom's attention. Precious.
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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Lussuria calling out Squalo for being a romantic... top moment.
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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Doodle of the best girl
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elettro-volpe · 2 years
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Somewhere in Italy
(Tsunayoshi/Reader) rated M for future!
Summary: You live in a small town in Italy, curious about the rumors of the mansion in the woods. You find yourself in the midst of the mafia.
Chapter 1
It was quiet that night in Italy. It was unusual to say the least. Normally, the streets were filled with lovers, tourists, and drunkards alike. Tonight, was different, all that could be heard was the sounds of birds and soft footsteps upon the stones of the streets. The town was bustling during the day, but by no means a large city with the likes of Florence, Venice, and Milan. I sat that night by the window, looking out at the smoke that rose above the horizons. That was why it was so quiet. An estate that lived just a few kilometers off from the town had asked the people to stay inside that night. It was eerie and made my skin crawl with a sense of looming darkness.
What caused the fire on the horizon? Was it a fire? Was everyone within safe? These questions felt heavy as I looked at the large plumes of rising smoke. I sighed, closing my journal in favor of watching this silent, ominous cloud in the sky. I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus on any writings. I held my pen between my forefingers, pressing the face of my thumbs against the plastic as I wondered what could be happening. Everyone knew that estate belonged to a prestigious family, The Vongola. Stories amongst the townspeople varied, some stated they were righteous protectors of the people while others said the family held a long and blood past that loomed over the town like a shadow reaching out to suffocate them. Either way, its said fires at the estate were common, with no one knowing why these fires took place. Before a fire would happen though, a spokeswoman always visited the cobbled streets of the small town to warn the good people to stay inside. I hadn’t seen her myself, but you could hear her stark warning. Why warn the people if you know a fire will start? The surrounding area of the estate was said to have a large wood. Trees that protected its home from any intruders. Could it be they were culling some of the woods? No, the fires were sporadic. These would not be the fires of simple yard work, it felt… darker. There was something in those fires. I wouldn’t say I had the urge to find out.
I had packed away my journal and books and started to turn to my bed when something caught my eye. It was quick, a flash before my eyes, but bright against the night sky and the dark smoke. A long trail of orange streaked across the horizons. My eyes widened as I stood, pressing my fingertips to the desk, leaning forward towards the window to catch a glimpse at what that was. A shooting star? It couldn’t be! There was a clear trail in the skies above, shooting stars came and went with little residual light. What I saw in the sky left a orange trail, like watching sparks fall slowly down to the Earth. Whatever had caused such a sight was long gone, leaving me with more questions then answers. ‘How beautiful.’ I thought. I left my questions at the window and crashed into my lovely bed.
There was a light sound of strings. They began with soft strums, airy, high notes soothing into lower tones as the strings strummed lower. His breath on my ear, sending shivers down my spine. Our bodies were close, far too close as heat began to build between us. The fine threads of his suit sending goosebumps up my bare arm. Gold glinting from the corner of my eye, a chain settled on his chest as he closed the distance between us. The strings of music drowning his sweet words. My heart pounded, skipping in time of the delicate music that played around us. Those strings reflected the euphoria of his presence and the low heat that rose between our bodies. His thin fingers slid up my arm, my body tensed at the motion, grasping onto his cloak without a second thought. Without any thoughts truly. The cold of his ring is a stark contrast to his warm hand. His name at the tip of my tongue, wishing to call out to him. His lips slowly met the crook of my ear and cheek, pressing softer kisses along my jaw, reaching to my neck. Obediently, I gave him the access he silently requested. His lips made every part of me flare up with a heated desire. The strings rang in my ears, the flow of music swaying me against him as he enveloped me in this dance. The sleeves of the dress I had worn, slowly falling down around my arms. His smile made the room spin, absorbing my thoughts. His brown eyes looked up to me for permission. I met his gaze, my world slowly dimming to surround him. I tried to call his name, when nothing came. The world around me spun as he whispered once more. My eyes opened in an instant with a heavy breath.
The light of the sun came streaming through the window of my room, directly onto my face. Its heat making me too warm, so I threw my blanket off of me as I stretched against the mattress. I sighed, trying to recollect such a pleasant dream, wanting to burn it into my brain. I had half a mind to write it down, but before I came to that decision the dream was already swept away as I became preoccupied with my morning. I checked my phone, seeing it was my week off from school. I got dressed as per usual and made some toast to satisfy my never ending appetite. I complimented it with expresso. I never really considered myself a coffee drinker until I moved abroad to Italy and it simply became apart of my routine. I heard footsteps behind me. My housemate, Marcell, was also beginning his day.
“Good morning, y/n.” His voice was deep, but Marcell was always the cheerful sort. He wasn’t the type to let things hold him back from his day. Marcell was a handsome man with messy brown curls and broad shoulders, although his most notable feature was how tall he was. He was practically all leg. “Good Morning, want a cup? Just made it.” I asked despite already knowing his answer and grabbing another glass for him. “I would, thank you.” He went about grabbing the eggs from the cabinet and went about prepping his own breakfast. “I heard you’re on your first break of the year. Any plans for today?”
I thought on it, as I made his cup and set it down beside him on the counter. “Not particularly. I was planning to get the usual out on the market, maybe find a corner to practice my writing. I’m getting rusty I haven’t written in so long.” Marcell scoffed as he picked up the cup and took a drink. He smacked his lips in satisfaction as he grabbed his seasonings. “If you’re getting rusty on anything, it’s your Italian. How long have you been in Italy and you’re still using textbook phrases.” I pouted and picked up my toast. “I take offense to that! I’ve been getting better! I’ve only been here for a few months.” I knew Marcell was teasing. I hadn’t been studying much Italian as of late and it was starting to show despite living in Italy. I enjoyed the taste of my morning expresso and finished my toast.
“Alright, well if you’re finished being a butt-head. I’ll be heading out now.” Marcell laughed, waving me off with a side comment of a good-bye. I grabbed my journal and books as well as my wallet and set off onto the lovely streets of the small town.
The first thing to catch my notice is the smell. The moment your feet hit the ground and you take a deep breath you catch the smell of fresh bread, coffee, the river not far off from the town. It’s a wonderful scent that just pulls you in. The second is the sounds. The hustle and bustle of all the towns people starting their shops and lives, hearing mothers send their children off to school and the tourists looking about for something to do. It was Spring, the flowers were in bloom filling the air with a thick and sweet scent. I took it all in, inhaled it really. I had only been in Italy for a short time, but I could get used to this kind of living. The town I lived in was a short train ride away into a larger city. The local college was located there and where I current attended for my abroad trip.
Off to my side, I could hear a few gentleman prepping their food stands and setting out boxes of fresh produce and vegetables. I could vaguely make out the sounds of a box falling and landing on one of their toes, followed by a string of curses and orders. I laughed, heading towards my preferred destination to relax. A small café a mere few steps away from my home. As cliché as it was, it was a great atmosphere to relax and think and spend the day away watching the people go by.
The streets widened out to the main square of the town, the cobblestone road turning to flat stones of the area. A large fountain sat in the middle of the square. It was rather peculiar as the symbol of the fountain was that of three large clams leaned onto each other, each spouting their own water stream. I asked about the fountain once and a woman simply said. “That, there fountain was a gift. A gift from the family to the town. Said they would always provide what we need should we ever ask.” The woman was older, a slim face with graying hairs and wrinkles. She spent her days watching the children play. She spoke of the few times she ventured to the large estate that laid on the outskirts. It was rare for any of the townspeople to visit and even rarer for a select few to be seen leaving. She gossiped that the local meat seller was always requested with his finest cuts, but he never delivered it himself.
It was peculiar how much mystery that surrounded the Vongola estate. The memory of last night came to me. The streak of light in the sky mixed with the smoke. It came from the direction of the estate. Although, no one around seemed to take notice of the fact that last night a fire had taken place so close to the town. It seemed everyone moved on with their lives.
I was still lost in thought about what I had seen when I collided into a rather solid object. I hit the ground, butt first, my eyes squeezed shut expecting impact. I heard the sound of books, pens, and papers flying about. I groaned at the pain of the stone when I looked up. I heard what I could only think would be the sound of pain. It sounded foreign, but if I ventured a guess it was something along the lines of ow. As I looked up, I saw a man rubbing his backside, scattered around us looked like the extent of his whole book bag. My eyes widened, as I started gather all of the materials. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.” My hand grabbed a book when my fingertips brushed against his own. His fingers were slender, a gentle touch. My heart raced at the smallest touch, my cheeks burning red as I finally looked up at the man. “No, no. It’s fine. I should have realized you were there.” He smiled at me, looking rather bashful himself. He was gorgeous to say the least. He was tall, with rather soft, round cheeks that suited his face. His smile only drawing them back further, with a strong jawline. His eyes were a deep brown. The part that had really caught my attention was his hair. It almost looked like it was spiky, but it appeared soft. It had to be natural. The thought of how soft it was conjured an image of running my fingers through it. I shook my head of such thoughts, feeling even more embarrassed and red faced. It was interesting as he was foreign. Well, so was I, but his features and darker skin tone were that of a man from Asian. His words were Italian, but an unknown accent could be heard.
I was speechless at the interaction as I rather unabashedly gawked at him. I was shaken from my stupor, immediately looking down at the book we both held. Italian for Dummies. I let go of the book with an awkward laugh. “You’re fine. Don’t even worry about it, really…” I felt even more awkward as I didn’t know what I was doing. He seemed equally as awkward and almost appalled. ‘Great. Just great. First hot guy I meet and I make him uncomfortable.’ I continued to gather his other things, looking back up at him as I handed his materials back over. “Are you learning Italian? I’m still having issues myself.” This seemed to get his attention. He looked up at me with an uncertain smile. “Yeah, I am. It’s really not my first language, and I’ve been studying for a few years now. I’m still trying to get the hang of it.” He seemed sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding my eyes. I couldn’t help, but giggle a little. It made me feel a bit better knowing I wasn’t the only awkward one in this. His clothes caught my eye, some jeans and a bright orange and white hoodie. He looked to be a college student about the same age as me.
He nervously laughed at my giggle. “It’s pretty stupid. Thank you for my stuff. I’m….” He seemed uncertain for a moment of how to introduce himself before holding out his hand. “I’m Sawada Tsunayoshi.” I glanced at his hand before taking it with a smile. I told him my name, giving his hand a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Sawada.” Sawada snorted a little, as he retracted his hand. I tilted my head in confusion. “What’s wrong?” He chuckled again, shaking his hand out in front of him. “No, it’s fine. Sawada is my last name. You can just call me Tsuna.”
“Oh, I see. So, you say your last name before your first name?” My cheeks burned, feeling rather stupid that I didn’t know this information already. He offered a sweet smile, nodding. “Yeah, I come from Japan.” I nodded along to what he was saying as he turned towards my side, opening the pathway for us to walk. “Ah, so that would explain the accent. Mine isn’t much better. Italian is harder than I was expecting it to be.” I spoke quietly. My feet starting their usual path with Tsuna falling beside my pace with ease. He was certainly taller than I had originally thought. I averted my gaze, looking everywhere, but him. “So, where were you heading? I could escort you there. The least I could do for bumping into you.” He sounded a little strained. It certainly helped me knowing he seemed just as nervous. “I was just going to the café for some writing.. Would you like to come with me? I would like to treat you to some coffee.”
Tsuna shook his hands once more, trying to keep his books and papers in place in his arms. “I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but I would be happy to sit down with you.” I raised an eyebrow with a smile, looking at him. “So what do you drink?” He laughed, looking almost ashamed. “I’m honestly more of a soda drinker. I like a lot of sugar and caffeine, but I-I could also have some tea.” I couldn’t help, but laugh again. He was sweet and honest. It was like most guys to put up a façade, but he seemed genuine.
We passed the fountain. I stopped, looking up at the structure. I examined each small detail and curve of the clams. Tsuna cleared his throat. “Something wrong?” I looked back at him, shaking my head. “Oh, no. I was just admiring the fountain. Do you know much about it?” His expression seemed to go pale, mouth set in a stern line. Was that a bad question? Before I could speak up, Tsuna shook his head and spoke, “No, I don’t really know much. Just heard it’s from the Vongolas, but I don’t know anything about them.”
I glanced up at Tsuna, feeling best not to press him further as he looked almost like he was about to cry. I clapped my hands together, mustering my best smile and gestured towards the café. “We should hurry along! I don’t want to miss all the fresh baked pastries. I only had toast this morning.” It was Tsuna’s turn to look amused as we began our journey once more to the café. “Just toast? Not very filling. How about I treat you?” My eyes widened at the idea, shaking my head rather adamantly. “No, I couldn’t ask that of you, if its about bumping into you, don’t worry. Having such a gentleman as company would be enough.” His smile was shy, looking away, rubbing the back of his neck. It was cute, reminding me of a schoolboy.
We entered the café and placed our orders. I took my usual seat as Tsuna made himself comfortable across from me. “I haven’t had a chance to visit this place yet.” He noted as he took in the atmosphere. “Oh? Any particular reason as to why?” I opened my own bag, taking out my journals and pens. He watched my movements before going to do the same. He seemed to squirm, a little unsure of himself. “I only just moved here recently. As I said, I’m from Japan and decided to move in with my relatives.” I nodded along to his words. “Well, I’m no expert, but I would be happy to show you around.” Tsuna grinned at these words; his shoulders visibly relaxing as he laughed under his breath. “I would really appreciate that.” I began writing down in my journal. “In return, you could teach me some Japanese. I would love to learn a new language.” He looked down to his own notebook. I thought I could see a bit of reds in his cheeks. “Yeah, I can do that for you.”
Time was strange around Tsuna. To myself, speaking to him, time was slowed. He had a wonderful laugh. It was deeper and made his whole face light up. He could talk about anything and everything. He was shy at times and easy to discuss with. He was polite, and cheerful. He paused at times to think of what he was wanting to say. I found myself focusing less on my writing and more on just getting lost in our conversation. We went through several cups of coffee, tea, and treats. I didn’t realize how much time had passed until Tsuna went to take my phone number when he pointed out the time.
“I-I’m so sorry! I have to go! I didn’t even think of how late it was getting. I have some friends waiting on me. I’ll catch you later, okay?” He smiled, albeit anxiously as he packed up his bag. I waved to him as he was hurrying out the door. “I-… Alright, I’ll catch you later!” Tsuna was already out the door by the time I finished. I looked out the window, watching him. He was certainly tall and had a slender figure. He was on the phone, practically panicking as he disappeared into the crowd.
My head was reeling from such a lovely day. I walked home, carrying my things with a smile on my face. My cheeks felt warm, and my stomach fluttered with butterflies. I was rather giddy. I said my hellos and goodbyes to Marcell and laid in my bed. My arm laid over my eyes, my imagination sweeping my vision. I could vividly remember his smile, his messy hair, his small little fidgeting when he couldn’t understand his work. I had helped him as much as I could. I curled onto my side, fighting the smile that wouldn’t leave as I tried to calm the wonderful tingle in my stomach. I found myself still laughing as his jokes and smiling at the thought of him even as I showered and went to bed. I only hoped I would see him again soon.
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