#you trying to say they have Italian accents and say Italian phrases for shits and giggles 💀💀💀

[smoreal]

Reddit is so fkn brain dead sometimes holy fkn shit

[gelataisa]

So does Vongola Family mostly speak Italian or Sicilian language? I saw your posts about Xanxus surpressing his Sicilian and trying to mostly speak Italian, but could you please elaborate more?

I believe, Reborn will push Tsuna&co to learn both languages (just because he can), but which one will be first in line for learning?

Oooh what a great question!!

I think its time to deeper in the dialect argument.

In big cities not everyone speaks dialect. The lower you go on the social ladder and the older you are the more likely you are to speak dialect. The lower in the social ladder you go, the more likely it is that people dont know how to speak italian well.

But, tendencially, everyone speaks italian, and italian is the primary language of people. Many young people from "respectable neighbourhoods" dont grow up listening to dialect, and cannot really speak it. What happens is that words or phrases in dialect get incorporated into the current italian speech, sometimes even being italianised in the process. What remains the most is just the accent.

So, who consistently speaks sicilian in the Vongola? Probably only the lower goons that do stupid shit and dont get to interact with important people.

The ninth and his generation can most likely speak dialect too, because they come from a time when it was much more common to speak and hear, but italian is their language. They too sometimes use phrases or words in sicilian, when they fit into the discussion. When interacting with people from lower classes they also may just switch to dialect.

Xanxus, on the other hand, was born into a "non respectable neighbourhood". He was born in a place where dialect was the only language, and only then learned italian. Growing up he does not try to speak italian, he just knows it. And oh boy if he learned fast. It did not actually require that much effort, he was a kid and everyone around him spoke italian at that point. And he went to a school where everyone spoke italian too, and he studied the grammar and everything else too. He did realise from the beginning how important it was to learn italian, but it was not a hard thing to do.

One thing i also believe, though, is that he subconciously suppressed most of his accent. It's not like he speaks without any accent, everyone can recognise that hes from the south. But not many could pin point from where. He most likely tried to get rid of his accent because it was too heavy and think, something that would give his origin away. Funnily enough, people surrounding him have a thicker accent than he does, the ninth too. Though i like to believe that sometimes, when hes drunk the right amount or when he says specific words, he just says things with the thickest accent ever. Cause certain words can only be said in that way.

One prime example of "born in a respectable neighbourhood" i can think of is Squalo (whom i hc as palermitan too!): he cannot sustain one conversation in dialect, he does not even understand it well if its too fast or emphasized (like, if xanxus actually speaks it). But he does have the accent and he does use words, especially those that convey concepts that are not present in italian, or that do so faster and more directly. He would never say "Com'è nuvoloso oggi" (Today is very cloudy) when he can just say "Che cielo accupuso". And even then, che cielo accupuso is not real dialect. It is italianised dialect. Real dialect would be something like "chi cielu accupusu" (but even then, i dont really know! Im just like squalo!)

Now for the last part of your ask: I dont think tsuna and the others would directly learn dialect. reborn, at least to me, is not sicilian, so he couldnt even begin teaching it, not really. and socially it is not that important, not in "high society", so there is no actual need to learn it. He would probably try to teach italian to at least tsuna, but considering that such a thing was not present in the manga (of course it wasnt, i dont even blame amano), i cannot see any urgency in doing so. And Tsuna being as disinterested he is in everything mafia (most realistic thing of the manga, good for him), he would probably not be so enthusiastic in learning italian either! Even less sicilian!! So learning would take quite some time.

To me its more probable that others in the family learn italian faster, for reasons that are completely separated from tsuna and reborn:

Yamamoto would probably learn it through Squalo, who wouldnt even do many lessons but just. Speak it some just because, or even just on the phone with someone in varia villa. Hes a fast learner, after all!

Chrome has Mukuro, Chikusa and Ken to teach her! With their dreadful milanese accent (jk my norherner friends!). Mukuro would be the only one actively teaching her though, i believe.

Kyoko and Haru would probably start learning it on their own, once they understood that Italy is gonna become part of their lives somehow. They are just happy to learn new things, especially if they come in handy!

Lambo is just italian, so he has nothing to learn. Though he is so little... maybe he actually forgets it some. But its very easy to him to just pick it up again.

Ryohei and Hibari i dont really see making any effort in learning, but of course over time they end up doing so. Maybe Hibari has... a certain someone from italy... helping him in a way or another. who knows.

as for Gokudera, that's for another time!

[meglyfer]

I NEED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT SASHA/DREW THEY ARE SO SILLY

OHOHO, YOU HAVE COMMITTED A TERRIBLE MISTAKE

When Horror and Dust had Drew, they actually didn't know how to name him. They were this close )( of naming them "Mistake" (because they had an instant regret of being parents once the child was actually there), but then Cross was like "DO NOT NAME YOUR FUCKING CHILD MISTAKE", so he was the one that gave Drew her name

Her name "Sasha" is a chosen name, and she stole it from Sasha Waybright from Amphibia because he is a huge kinnie of her. Also related to this, they canonically have Sasha (from Amphibia) set as their pfp on his private account on whatever the Undertale equivalent of Twitter is

If you've seen my art about horrordust, you'de know me and Xomma agree that they are so fucking toxic and, although they truly love their kid and treat him as such, their relationship with each other affects Sasha in a way they had not expected. Because of their awful relationship, Drew is afraid of falling in love, because he thinks he would end up like their parents; always fighting, arguing, telling each otehr "I hate you" as much as they say "I love you", etc. Because of this fear, she has cut off her friendship with a bunch of people, realising that he was starting to develope romantic feelings for them. Most of the times they did it unconsiously

He does love his parents though, a lot, they mean everything to her, and he know that they love them too, never even doubted it, but she is fully aware that things would be way better if they divorced and were away from each other

When someone asks Drew about how their parents are, he replies with something along the lines of "They aren't the best parents out there, but they try really hard to be good parents, so I guess that makes them just enough"

When Sasha was a kid (about 6-10 if I remember correctly) he gifted her parents one of those "world's best dad" mugs, but she crossed out the "world's best" and replaced it with "Decent". Horror found it hilarous and immediately became his favourite cup. Years later when Drew came out of the closet, their parents gifted her a cup that said "I came out to my parents and all I got was this mug"

HE HAS A GIANT HAMMER COLLECTION. Some hammers she buys, others are gifts, and others they make them themselves, often based on AUs she visits from time to time (Example: they have this Outertale themed hammer with stars and all that shit)

Originally when we had just created Drew, Xomma and I had agreed that he would be besties with Paper Jam and be in a queer platonic relationship with him and Lux. That was until we found out that canon Paper Jam is currently a grown adult. Idea was immediately discarded because, YOU KNOW, THAT'S A CHILD AND A GROWN ASS MAN. After that we started checking the characters ages before deciding if they'd be friends with the kid so that we don't go through all this again

Drew's best friends are Lux and Shino (one of the hundreds of afterdeath kids out there), but of course they have many other friends. Just like a good anime protagonist, he would force friendship into every single person she comes across

He knows SO MANY LANGUAGES Like, you know how people headcanon characters to speak the same language as the creator? Well, WE DID A SLIGHT MISCALCULATION They of course speak English, she also speaks Spanish, a mix of an Argentinian, Peruvian and Venezuelan accent (I'm Argentinian and Xomma is Venezuelan and lives in Peru, so the accent kinda sticks). And you'd think that'd be it, right? WRONG We both know a bit of Portuguese (me more than Xomma), and I know a little bit of Italian, and Xomma suddendly surprised me telling me that they also know a bit of GERMAN AND FRENCH Which means Drew speaks fluent English and Spanish (With an amalgame of accents), can hold a simple conversation in Portuguese, and can throw at you some random words and phrases in Italian, German and French, JESUS CHRIST I SAY If you ask where did he learn all those languages from, let's just say random people on the omega timeline taught her. "Where did you learn Portuguese" "Fabiola from the Omega Timeline taught me" who is Fabiola? WHO KNOWS!

She is a menace to society

Her place in the school hierarchy is difficult to point. They are a bit of a weird kid, so he sometimes gets bullied by other kids, but as I mentioned, he's also a menace, so there are a lot of kids that also fear them for how feral they are. Though she does have a fair amount of friends and from different years and ages, so he's also kinda cool with a bunch of people (???

Master of blackmail

When he's a grown teenager's a bit older (about 16-18 I'd say), she starts taking little "jobs" some people give them in exchange for some money. At first they have to do pretty normal stuff; help someone with some boxes, look after a kid for a few hours, deliver something to someone, etc. But as time passes some of this requests start getting darker and darker, to the point where it's nore rare for him to be asked to beat up someone (they always ask why they are requesting said stuff, and will only agree to the job if she thinks the person deserves the punishment)

He is a sugar addict. As a kid she would often still candy from people on the Omega Timeline. Horror and Dust had to explain to her that he couldn't keep doing that or else they would end up being kicked out from there, aka, kicked out of one of the few places where they would let in the child of two serial murderers. She stopped doing so after that, and instead now they carry a bag of candy with them everywhere he goes

His favourite pastry are cinnamon rolls

She knows how to cook (Horror taught him), but choses to be attrocious at the kitchen

As I mentioned before, one of Drew's best friend's is Lux. And if you've seen my art of them, YOU'D KNOW THEY ARE A BIT MORE THAN JSUT BESTIES. At first they really are just friends, but as they grow older and their friendship becomes deeper they start falling in love with each other. Lux is well aware of both her own feelings, and Sasha's feelings (comes with being daughter of the guardian of positivity I guess), but chooses not to do anything about those feelings because she knows about Drew's fear of love, and doesn't want to push him into something he's not ready for, so she is happy to wait for as long as she has to. Meanwhile Drew, while he was the first to fall, takes the longest to realis about her feelings and do something about them. It takes them SO MANY FUCKING YEARS for him to do something about it, to the point where they finally get into a relationship when they are in their early twenties. Before that it was all gay tension and Sasha convincing himself that all the stuff they do with Lux is "Perfectly normal friend things to do" and there is nothing more to it (They were not, in fact, "Perfectly normal friend things to do", and there was actually so much more to it)

Since I'm talking about this two I might as well jsut dropped this chart we did the other day about them

If you want the original chart, sorry, I lost it :(

AND I'LL SHUT UP NOW BECAUSE I'VE BEEN WRITING FOR LIKE AN HOUR AND A HALF

ME AND XOMMA LITERALLY HAVE A GOOGLE DOCUMENT TALKING ABOUT THEM THAT IS OVER 100 PAGES LONG, AND IT'S STILL GROWING, SO YOU CAN GUESS HOW MUCH I CAN SAY ABOUT THEM

Might add some more stuff later though, I told Xomma about this ask I got and I'm waiting for them to reply to see if he wants to add anthing else

Edit: forgot to say that me and Xomma are working on a playlist about Drew, so if you want to hear it and try to like, analyse or something, here you have it

[ramp-it-up]

Request:

Y/N is for one year in America and try to learn the language More (she is from Germany ).

Chris saw her at target and realized that she was kind of lost and was loved to help her 👀

Okayyyy Nonnie! How's this for a challenge?

At first I didn't know how I was going to get there from here, but I cruised IG for some German inspiration. As a result, instead of Y/N, reader is named Maëlle. I also struggled with the knowledge that most Germans know more English than Americans know of any other language, but this is all in fun. 😛

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (Maëlle)

Word Count: Around 2K

Warnings: 18+, RPF, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE, not proofread, Google Translate for the German, verry limited American knowledge of Germans and German culture, not full on Smut, but smutty thots, thoughts of oral sex, fingering, degradation kink, allusions to Dom! behavior, disregarding of stranger danger, the Red Sox, and an age gap.

Maëlle

**********************************

One of your goals when you got settled was to go to Target, Ziel when you arrived in Boston for your graduate exchange year at Boston University.

You understood a great deal of English and could speak many phrases, but you’d hoped your year in America would make you fluent.

You were proud that you were able to get from the BU Student Union to the store. You surprised yourself with the ease that you used your phone to help you translate for what you needed.

Now, you were standing in front of the doors, almost in tears, trying to find where your Uber was to pick you up.

You didn’t pay attention to which way you entered and you needed to find VanNess street. It was about to leave. You suddenly felt helpless, hilflos.

—-

Chris needed to pick up some sunscreen before the game, he couldn't afford a burn right before filming. Even though he had his Red Sox cap on, he still needed some high grade sunblock.

He hurried through the doors of the Target near Fenway Park, head down, trying not to get recognized.

He passed by some beautiful long bronze legs and followed them up a smoking hot body clothed in a scarlet Boston University t-shirt tied up tight and short blue jean skirt.

Your face was framed by waist length blonde braids and your eyes were the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

Your lips deserved ten minutes all on their own, but he kept it moving, not wanting to seem creepy.

You were gorgeous, although you looked flustered. Chris didn’t slow his roll, because you were probably waiting on someone.

When he came back through, five minutes later, he heard your voice and slowed down. He was surprised, but shouldn’t have been. There were black people all over the world.

Even in Germany.

“Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die Van Ness Street ist? Can you tell me? Where is Van Ness Street?”

Your accent was heavy, but passersby just assumed you were crazy or joking with them and ignored you.

Chris was ashamed. That wasn’t what he wanted Boston to be. Even though he was close to being late for the first pitch, he stopped for you. He summoned some German from filming in Europe.

“Kann ich Ihnen helfen?” It was one thing he knew how to say with perfect inflection.

You perked up and smiled at him. “Ach bist du Deutscher? You’re German?”

You looked into the face of the handsome stranger. His eyes. Verdammt!

Chris melted a little bit. When you smiled, you were even more beautiful. Chris smiled back at you, smitten. He laughed.

“No. Italian.”

You understood, but you were confused. Why was this handsome American saying he was Italian and speaking to you in German? And why was he so familiar?

“Oh, Ich entschuldige mich. Sorry.” You smiled again, and Chris forgot all about the game. He wanted to try to talk to you for hours.

“No worries, he said. “Bitte?”

This handsome man’s German was indeed poor. He’d fooled you. He was a good actor. Something pinged in the back of your mind, but you overlooked it. Somehow, he’d made you feel better.

“Ich habe meinen Uber vermisst. Uber, gone!” You made a motion with your hand. “Kannst du mir zeigen, wo die VanNess Street ist?”

“Ohhhh! VanNess is this way,” he pointed toward the other side of the store, and he started leading you through.

You breathed a sigh of relief as you followed him.

You neared the electronics department and there was a giant movie display with dvds. The man saw it, pulled up, stopped, grabbed your hand and quickly led you back the other way.

You were confused.

“Come to think of it, I’ll give you a ride, my car is back out this way. Druben?”

Chris was not going to ruin his afternoon and a chance to talk to you by getting caught signing autographs in Target. He loved his fans, but he already liked you.

You followed him back out of the sliding doors to the parking lot and a blank Range Rover. You just went along with him, your hand feeling at home in his.

Then the panic set in.

You didn’t know this man from Adam.

Your mother had warned you about getting kidnapped by an American serial killer. This was it. You hated it when she was right.

“Wait!”

You said it perfectly, and the man caught your anxiety.

Chris stopped as he tried to open the door for you. He looked into your worried eyes. Shit, he’d gotten carried away. He looked down to where your hands were still locked.

He couldn’t help but smile at them. You smiled, too. Then he looked at you, blue eyes looking like the sea. You smiled back, somehow knowing that you were safe. You leaned back on the car.

“I’m not going to hurt you. My name is Christopher, what is yours?”

“Maëlle.”

Your smile was brightening his entire life. He was into you.

“That’s beautiful. Das ist schön?”

You smiled wider at his compliment. Then you bit your lip. Chris' knees got weak and he took a step closer to you to regain balance.

You were in each other’s space, Chris looking down at you and you at him. You were both getting warm even though it was a cool September day.

Chris pulled your hand instinctively, and you were even closer, your fingers entwined in his close to his thigh, which you could sense flexing through his jeans.

You were staring at his lips and he was doing the same as the butterflies flew around your stomach.

Were you really considering kissing someone you’d just met in Target? What would your mother think?

That thought made you smirk.

“What are you thinking?”

He was leaning over you, his voice in a lower register now. His breath tickled your ear and made you moan slightly.

Chris wanted to know what was going on in that mind of yours, if you were as crazy as he was feeling this kind of connection so fast.

You understood exactly what he was saying, but you just cocked your head and smiled as if you didn’t. You didn’t want him to think that you were thinking of his hands all over you, in your most intimate places.

Chris took a deep breath, trying to clear his head and regain blood flow to his brain. His cock was hard being this close to you and he had to regain composure.

He wasn’t that reckless kid he used to be, but man he wanted to do some depraved things to you. Like drag his tongue up your…

He had to stop. Chris took a step back.

You watched as his tongue peeled out to lick his bottom perfect pink lip. It was strange, but you felt like you knew him. And you wanted him to know you. Intimately.

And now those perfect lips were moving, but you weren’t paying close enough attention to translate what he was saying.

“Can I give you a lift to campus?”

You cocked your head in that pretty way again. He wondered what it would be like to feel your lips. On his lips. On his tattoos, around his…

Chris cleared his throat and tried to think of the words.

“Kann ich mitnehmen?”

He was so cute. You smiled brighter and nodded, “Yes, Christopher.”

Then you gestured to your bra-less breasts in your thin t-shirt. Chris could tell your nipples were hard. He licked his lips and looked around. This was a development.

Then he got your message. He shook his head, chuckling that his thoughts were in the gutter.

“Ooooooh! Boston University! You’re on campus. Yeah, that’s right near here. I’ll take you.”

“Danke. Thanks you, Christopher.”

Your smile would be the end of him. He had to think of a creative way to get your number.

“Hey! Let’s take a picture!” He had his phone out.

You were confused, but maybe this is what Americans did to get to know each other. Take pictures with strangers.

He took a couple of pics and then opened the door for you.

You brushed past him to get in, and Chris allowed his eyes to take in your form, especially your shapely legs.

You noticed him checking you out, and immediately got goosebumps, your nipples hardening again. Your panties were a little moist.

“Let’s just get you… “

Chris reached across you for the seatbelt with his right hand, face coming near yours as he leaned into the car.

“Buckled in…”

Now you were sure your panties were soaked.

Chris allowed his mind to go places, like your pussy, which he was sure was sweet, wet, hot and…

“….Tight.”

Chris gulped, trying not to drool all over you, although he would love to spit in your mouth and make you swallow as he fucked you raw.

“Danke.”

You whispered behind a breathy moan. You wanted not only to ride in this man’s car. You wanted to ride this man in his car.

Your eyes flickered down to his jeans and that’s when Chris realized that he had a raging hard on. He quickly put his hand in his pocket, trying to play it off, flashed a smile and closed the door quickly.

You giggled at how huge what you thought you saw was. You fanned yourself while you waited for him to get in trying to remember your decorum.

Chris stood outside the back of the car for a minute, trying to catch his breath and think. He had to be at least 15 year older than you, he just met you, and you didn’t speak English. None of this made sense.

He was going to drop you off at campus and try to be at the game for the second inning. And act his age.

Christopher got back in the car, much more formal, and started driving.

He looked over to see your legs open and started to wonder how easy it would be to reach over and under your skirt, pull your panties to the side, if you were wearing any, and…

Chris cleared his throat and focused on the road.

You could tell the air had changed. He was different. You wondered what happened.

You looked at his profile and decided that he was turned off by you being so forward. You decided to straighten up, so you did so, literally and figuratively.

You sat up straight and crossed your legs, like prim and proper young ladies do.

The curve of your spine and the crossing of your legs made Chris irrationally angry. It was like you were closing yourself off to him. Then he remembered.

You didn’t know each other.

You pointed out where to go as you neared your apartment. Chris pulled up in front of your unit and you both started talking.

“Danke, Christopher.”

“Hey, Maëlle…”

You both chuckled. Chris continued.

“Let me send you that photo. What’s your number?” He was fiddling with his phone. Then handed it to you. “Type it in for me.”

You grinned wide and his sly smile answered you. Now you understood. You entered your number and handed it back to him, your fingers sparking as you touched.

You were breathless.

“Well…”

“Christopher…”

You two interrupted each other again.

This time you continued.

“Thank you.”

You leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Chris closed his eyes. Your lips felt as soft as he imagined. He wanted to do the whole turn his head trick but he wasn’t 23 anymore. But you sure made him feel like it.

He did turn to look at you as you got out of the car and waved after you closed it. You swung your bag in one hand as you walked toward the building, also swinging your hips, watching him as he drove away.

Chris watched you too, as far as he could in the rearview. When you disappeared from sight, he said, “Fuck it,” did a uturn and peeled rubber back to your apartments. He rolled down the window.

“Maëlle! Maëlle!” You stopped just before you reached your door. Chris grinned at you. “You ever been to an American baseball game before?”

You skipped back down the walk happily, grinning back as you leaned in the open window. You cocked your head in that way.

“No, but I like playing wit the balls.”

Chris groaned. He couldn’t tell if you were talking about sports or something else. But he’d figure it out later. You climbed in the car, winked at him and crossed your legs.

Chris licked his lips as he drove back toward Fenway Park, thinking about how he would teach you about keeping your legs open that night.

——

Hope it’s okay Nonnie! ❤️

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou @donutloverxo @wallowsgirl14 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld @justanormalfangirlsworld @lost-in-a-state-of-mind @london-grunge @pheebsyells @douxtille @thesecretlifeofdaydreams @ximaginex @jdmacca92 @fofisstilinski @dyapraxicwhore @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @aaronhotchiee @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain @mostannoyingbillioner @anacravalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers @txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @assoftheamericana @ikatieebabyy @nerdymugsharkempath @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjean @maroonsunrise83

[foxymoxynoona]

It’s really funny you’re telling me this now, because for this semester I have an English exam and it focuses on English as a global language. Yesterday we talked about the differences between US and UK English and I realized I have no idea what UK English is😂. I have an American accent when I speak because I grew up surrounded by it so I find it waaay easier than any British accent, which is also the reason all my teachers in school made fun of me lol (number one rule in Italian schools when they teach English: rigorously British or else you’re “wrong”🥶).

Sorry for the useless rambling, but I looove American accents and regionalisms! I’ve spent so much time looking up the differences and I *kind of* understand all accents now, but oh regional words buried me💀 please if want to drop here some Texan slang, I would love to lose my mind over trying to guess the meaning😅.

🌸

I'll preface this by saying I left Texas for college a long time ago, and have lost most of my own accent, so some of these might be outdated... Also Texas is huge and different regions of Texas also have some of their own variations...

Hmm, a lot of the Southernisms/Texanisms are idioms, or euphemisms for saying something mean but making it sound nice. I once swore I would write down all the things my Grandma says and I should pick that practice up. A lot of it though is also just in how words are pronounced. Texans exaggerate some vowels and swallow the ends of words and there's a lot of tonality that changes the emotional intention of the phrase. ("Bless her heart" can mean "hope that dumbass gets hit by a truck she deserves what she got" or "she is literally an angel on earth and I can't believe this happened to her" depending on the way you say it...)

Here are some I can recall that my husband actually pointed out to me:

- So like you don't pronounce "ing" it's pronounced "in'", like you might say (as I once unfortunatelly did in a meeting) "We're really scootin' now." (We're really moving now!) I've never heard anyone outside of Texas use the word "scoot" actually (move a little bit.)

- While often Texans pronouns consonants you shouldn't (like Amarillo Texas is pronounced "Aa-muh-rih-llo" even though the LL should be a 'y' sound) but sometimes drop consonants for the sake of a phrase, like "Get 'er done" (get her done... which could mean a task! or... a lady... guys put this on the back window of their trucks when I was in high school)

- Apparently we also emphasize weird syllables (I learned to pronounce the wird INsurance but in New England they say it inSURance.)

-There are some verbs that get used a lot too like "fixin' ta" --for instance "I'm fixin' ta take the trash out" is I'm fixing to take the trash out which means I'm about to take the trash out.

- Southernism, not just Texas, but everything is a Coke. As in, waiter asks "What do you want to drink?" and you say "Two cokes" and they say "ok what kind, we got sprite, coke, and root beer." Unless you mean Pepsi and then you say Pepsi and everyone is unhappy.

-Ain't and Y'all! Growing up I was told they were a Texas thing, but I'm pretty sure Britney Spears used them way back when too in Louisiana (which isn't far from where I grew up). They're both more mainstream now and used in other regional dialects

-Two more examples I just thought of for weird pronounciation: "shit" is pronounced two syllables "shee-it"; clam is pronounced two syllables "clay-yam". Lots of stretching words out to more syllables than they should be.

Damn I should be able to think of more but I'm blanking right now...

One thing that complicates this for me is my parents are actually from Oklahoma, Illinois and Tennessee, so some of my family usage gets muddied and I don't always know where it came from. But some other things i apparently say weird:

- milk (pronounced MEHLK)

- caramel (hot debated one! after so many hot debates, I literlaly just pronounced it different every time but learned to pronounce it originally CARE-uh-mull)

- pin / pen (pronounced identially, yes this includes penguin too, "PINgwen)

My stepdad has some special Oklahoma phrases: "My stars" as a phrase of surprise/disbelief; "over yonder" for over there. Damn, there are more I can't think of right now...

As far as UK/US English goes, the accent doesn't usually cause a problem for us in understanding, it's that a lot of the words are just different (like a jumper vs. sweater.) UNTIL you get up to Scottish accents and then good f'ing luck, it's unreal. Some Australian words are also impossible for me to understand.

Anyway, sorry I can't remember more! If I do wind up going to help my mom, I'll write down all the ones I'm forgetting right now...

[ddarker-dreams]

🎀 scarlet ribbons.

ITS SELF INDULGENT FRIDAY BOIS !! time for scarlet ribbons headcanons that i’ve been working on in between commissions, this is essentially just a reverse harem ...  there’s no yandere here for once, just some vibes... click here for an explanation ! the reader described here is the same in all the scenarios. i’m using she/her pronouns for this reader.

Bruno Bucciarati;

He forms a special kind of attachment to you, seeing as you’ll be the second person to join his team. You won over his compassionate heart, preventing a much crueler fate. As a foreign exchange student, you had taken out a loan with Passione to complete your education. The problem is, the egregious amount of interest being too much for you to pay back on time. Bucciarati had been ordered to collect your debt. Instead of following through with his orders, he used his favor with Polpo to let you pay back your debt by working for Passione under his leadership.

Appreciates the dynamic and resolve you bring to the group. While he tries his best not to show favoritism to any members of his team, you’re someone he always looks out for extra much. Not because he thinks of you incapable, but because his care for you runs deep after knowing you for years. He’s definitely going to catch onto the others holding similar feelings for you though.

Acts a bit different towards you in one on one scenarios, versus when the others are around. He’s more relaxed when it’s only the two of you, speaking of matters not relating to work and checking up on your well being. Bruno realizes he could listen to you for hours, enjoying your unique perspective. He also finds your foreign accent endearing, and has mentioned it to see how you blush at the compliment.

Super sweet with you, always has looked out for your best interest. He’s your go to when you feel stressed about your situation, providing the support you need, since he’s the only person aware of your circumstances. Bruno is reassuring, helping you in the moments the debt to the organization feels impossible to overcome. He’s offered to help pay for part of it, but you always refuse, feeling grateful enough to him as is. It pains him to see you hurting, but he does anything he can to make you feel better. Always pays for your meals though, no matter how much you raise a fuss about it. 

Giorno Giovanna;

There’s a certain warmth in you that he wasn’t sure what to think of at first. Giorno is an astute individual, making observations from afar, watching you joking and smiling with the rest of the team. He eventually comes to the conclusion that your presence fills his stomach with butterflies, seeing your more lighthearted approach to life. There’s something intoxicating about it, and he’ll jump for any opportunity to spend time with you much to the annoyance of everyone else, they already had enough competition wtf.

He’s a coy little shit at times. Giorno sees how the others look at you, especially how obvious Narancia and Mista are. When they get defensive over how much Giorno is talking to you, he’ll just flash a faux innocent smile and ask what the problem with it is. It’s more effective on Narancia, who just ends up sputtering before slinking away in defeat. Mista can kinda deflect the accusation better, though there’s still a blush on his face. Giorno knows what he’s doing lmaoo

It infuriates Abbacchio how obvious he is with you, like, the audacity of this man. Just swinging into Bucciarati’s team, trying to woo you away. Giorno is always asking for your opinion on how to proceed with certain things, even if his mind has already been made up. Anything just to talk to you. Most likely going to receive Abbacchio’s scorn the most for this, especially since Giorno will lean closer to you when you’re answering his questions. Giorno is just going :) , meanwhile Narancia is furiously taking notes. (”Okay, so if I ask [First] about this, I have an excuse to get closer to her...!)

He did strongly in school, maybe not as well as Fugo but is definitely academically gifted. So that means when he enters the picture, Fugo has some Competition for the English speaking buddy role. Giorno can understand most simple phrases and is capable of following the conversation, occasionally interjecting when he feels confident enough. Fugo might try and make his conversations with you more complicated because of this, since he’s petty and wants all your attention. You’re meant to be his English speaking buddy >:( !!

To be honest, Giorno’s not really sure what he’s doing, despite the suave impression he gives. Giorno has charisma, sure, but this is all very new to him. He’s still learning as he goes, and pays very close attention to how everyone else interacts with you. Anything to see your preferences, so he can use it to his advantage later. Has a large mental file on you, that comes in handy. He isn’t so much flirty, but more seeking out your company and thoughts on things.

Guido Mista;

Poor Mista almost friendzones himself in a way... he doesn’t mean to, but he wants to warm up to you in his own way!! And that way is through joking around and a lot of “friendly” banter. The friendly banter is more like thinly veiled flirting. He tries so hard to act cool and mysterious around you, like a Clint Eastwood character. Ends up being super goofy, though it works in his favor since he gets to see your cute smile!!! Victory!! 

Mista has no shame. He’ll show up outside your apartment, food in hand, saying he wants to come over and hang. He even lets you pick the movie if that’s what you want to do!! A true honor, since Mista is willing to sit through stuff he wouldn’t normally be interested in all for the sake of winning you over. <33 

Probably tied with Narancia for the most Unfortunate Mishaps to occur when attempting to woo you. Some favorites include, but are not limited to: when he tried giving you flowers but they kept making him sneeze, that time he was leaning against your door frame and fell over, and basically anything that happens when the Pistols come out. They wanna be his lil wing men, but they keep screwing him over... :< 

“[First]!! [First]!! We’re bored, come hang out with us instead!!!!” You’ll end up with a flurry of Pistols swirling around you very often, putting Mista’s affection for you on full display. It irritates Fugo the most, he almost wants to smack them away like they’re flies lmao. They might start sweatin’ when they see Fugo’s eyebrow twitch, the Stand often interrupting your conversations with the blonde. Mista tests his patience for sure. 

Pannacotta Fugo;

A bit of a typical tsun towards you at first. He’s all acting high and mighty, huffing about the newest member of the team not being as bright as him. In reality he just thinks you’re vvv cute, and doesn’t know how to process it. You greet him and his brain just kinda short circuits, and he gives a standoffish insult before running off to hide his blush. Bruno would find it endearing if not for his feelings for you lmao.

How he gets over this initial stump at the start of your relationship is by acting like you need his help. Especially if you stumble over any Italian words, namely Naples lingo being more difficult to master. He takes it upon himself to help you out... in reality he just really wants to spend more time with you. Also, seeing you stumble over words is precious, he tries not to tease you about it though. Does occasionally...

You end up being roommate at the start!!! To save money, but it’s whatever, who cares about the practical reasoning behind it. What matters is that he gets to spend even more time with you than the others. The problem is that Narancia and Mista make a point to come by often, which he finds to be very irritating. They even crash at your shared apartment at times, but because of how messy they are, don’t get an invitation to live permanently. Fugo is smug about how you picked him due to his cleanliness >:)c

English speaking buddies !! He might not be fluent in it, but he’s better at it than everyone else. Also a lot more capable of learning it, just for the sake of impressing you. Gets this very pleased look on his face when you two speak in simple English, Narancia staring over, pouting for being left out. It’s like a special connection or something, not that Fugo would ever admit to saying that to you. He’s flexing his academic muscles. 

Narancia Ghirgha;

Anyone could look over at Narancia and see his huge heart eyes for you. You like the same foreign music as him!! You can speak another language!! He wants to learn English from you, and keeps asking. Sometimes butchers the pronunciation but god it’s so cute who cares. Teach Narancia one phrase and he’s gonna be saying it nonstop for the rest of the week. Fugo, the only other member to understand English on a decent level until GioGio, is gonna be miserable whenever this happens. That’s his thing with you! Why can’t Narancia get something else, smh ...

If you recommend him a song he will not stop listening to it. Also expect a lot of discussions about different artists, mostly hip hop ones when Narancia is leading the conversation. He thinks it’s so cool you understand what they’re saying!! Is gonna ask you to translate them a lot. He kinda just stares at you, mouth agape when you’re singing along, like woah!! His crush is so talented. 

His most treasured moments with you, is when you recommend one another music, and share headphones. Sometimes you just bob your head to the rhythm, or sing along. Whatever the case, he gets to be close to you, and his brain is practically turning to mush at the fact your thighs are touching. 

Fugo did him dirty once in the past. Before Narancia realized he had Competition for your affections, he went to Fugo, asking how to compliment you in English. He should’ve known by how Fugo was staring at him with the most malicious smirk that he made a mistake. The next day, when meeting up at Libeccio, he came up to you. Chest puffed out, proud after a night of practicing his phrase. Then proceeded to say to you in English, “I am a fucking idiot!!!!” looking all smiley and excited. Needless to say, you almost spit out your food and laughed about it for a long time. Narancia has been planning his revenge on Fugo ever since...

Narancia follows you around like a lost puppy at times, but he’s a lot of fun to hang out around!! He’ll buy you gelato, and even lets you have a bite of his food if you ask. No one else has this special privilege. There is a time you offered to let him try a sip of your drink, and he almost melted. All his brain could think of is, indirect kiss, indirect kiss!!!! One of the best moments of his life tbh. 

Leone Abbacchio;

Abbacchio put a lot of effort into distancing himself from you. Why do you smile so much?? It makes him uncomfortable being around you, someone who is basically sunshine stuffed into a human body. It reminds him of all his shortcomings, which he feels he has no shortage of. But when you make the initially irritating decision to keep speaking to him, only giving space when you felt he really needed it, it won over his little grinch heart. 

He’s been wrapped around your finger ever since. Unlike the other bumbling buffoons who are tripping over themselves to get an ounce of your attention, he plays it cool. More of a Bucciarati approach to things. Asking about your interests, letting you do most of the talking so he has no chance to embarrass himself (like *cough* Narancia *cough*).

Next to Fugo, is most likely to call other members out on their nonsense. He wouldn’t dare do so for Bruno, but everyone else is fair game. The main victim to this treatment is Giorno. Abbacchio might even offer some “advice” to him, giving false information all under the guise of assisting Giorno’s pursuit of you. He takes a more hands off approach on everyone else. 

He doesn’t want to invite you over to his place because of how dreary it is, so he has to find other ways to get one on one time with you. This mostly happens by talking about things no one else finds of interest to you, namely makeup or other fashion things. 

You are the only person who gets to call him any nicknames, the one you lean towards typically being Abba. Narancia once made a mistake of calling him this, only to earn a very threatening glare. When you do it though, he has to push down the urge to smile. How cute!! 

Trish Una;

Gay rights time . Trish looks at you and immediately thinks wow, perfect girlfriend material right there. Still acts a bit reserved at first, considering her complex situation and how she’s still piecing it all together in her heard. Since you’re the only other girl on the team, she gets the benefit of Bucciarati assigning you to be extra close to her. All according to plan heheh >:) 

When she flirts, she goes all in. Asking about what kind of perfume you wear, your favorite shade of lipstick, what kind of outfits you like the most. All of it is under the pretense of getting to know you better, and while she does enjoy that aspect of it, she might start adopting some of the things you find appealing. She is 100% gonna ask to borrow your shirts and makeup, and extends the same offer to you. 

Trish is far more playful with you than the others, who all just kinda stare at the interactions like ??? When you were her bodyguard, she always subconsciously went to sit down next to you. No one else on the team can say anything, since she’s the boss’ daughter after all !! She considered you more of a distraction from her anxiety inducing situation at first, seeing as you had shared interests to speak about. Over time, your doting nature over her won out. 

Would be pissed if you ever got hurt trying to defend her. You might joke around about how you’re her bodyguard, not the other way around. Trish just can’t bear the thought of losing someone important to her, after all she’s already lost. 

Her phone background is a selfie the two of you took, even after she eventually distances herself from Passione to advance her singing career. Expect lots of texts messages, checking up on how you’re doing!! Trish unfortunately has a busy schedule, that requires a lot of traveling for her concerts and other bookings. Though anytime she is near Naples, she’s messaging you and asking to meet up. <33 

[copias-thrall]

So, I have some preferences in men, along with what nationalities are my personal favorites. I love Italians and British guys; I could melt if I was with either or especially considering my shy personality So I was wondering if I could have hcs on what Papa II, III, and IV would be like with a f! S/o that was like that? (probably of a different nationality like American or something). Would they tease/flirt her in Italian a lot because she gets flustered from it?

Oh ho ho, everyone loves a man with an accent! 

Let’s dive in, cara mia…

Papa II: If he knows it’s your weakness, he will absolutely use it to his advantage. Of all the Papas, he speaks with the least hint of an accent, but for you? He'll turn it up the caricature! He plays it 100% straight, so it actually takes a while for you to realize he’s playing with you. This is a man who likes to see those who are his squirm under his efforts, so don’t be surprised if he changes the cadences of his accent to make certain turns of phrases sound…lascivious. He has no shame when it comes to making you hot and bothered, so expect him to sidle up to you after mass, or in the mess hall, or during a meeting you’re helping with to whisper sweet innuendos in his accented English to make you stutter in front of everyone and to bring a pretty blush to your face. During playtime he uses your weakness as both a reward and a punishment! He’ll coo at you playfully as uses his fingers all over your body to help you achieve climax…but he’ll also bark at you in a succinct, crisp accent as he spanks you for breaking his rules.

Papa III: He likes to get a rise out of you (it's one of his favorite hobbies), and he will do it at the worst times just to be a little shit. You’ll be going about your duties, and all of a sudden he’ll be at your ear whispering in Italian. He’ll get you all hot under the habit (while he’s trying to get under your habit…), then flounce off like he’s the picture of innocence—and he'll gasp in shock if you call him on it. (Don't be surprised if he has an on-going bet with his Ghouls on how many times he can make you blush in a day!) He absolutely plays up his himbo image to pretend that he doesn’t know the English for something when everyone knows perfectly well he’s fluent in several love languages. Something he’d love even more than getting under your skin though? If you gave it right back to him! (Maybe with a ruler.) When he’s being playful, he’ll act like a bad version of Gomez Addams to get you to laugh and wiggle as he mutters in Italian and kisses up your arm. But when he’s serious, expect him to turn the charm up to 11 to get you wet and ready for him.

Papa IV: This man loves seeing you squirm under his careful ministrations, and make sure to teach you those certain phrases so you know exactly what he’s saying to you! He's an academic at heart, and he loves teaching it to you as much as he loves saying it to you. He has several…ah…corrective techniques he likes to employ to make sure you’re learning his language up to his expectations. Unlike the Emeritus Brothers, he won’t actively try to disrupt your day, but if he’s feeling amorous, he might press into your back to murmur into your ear in order to get things going for later. He likes to keep those little intimacies private—something for you just the two of you—but he does love calling you little pet names in Italian. It’s a subtle, but effective, way of letting those around you know that you’re all his. Expect more than just one! He has different names for each mood: silly, romantic, earnest, and lustful. It’s also a great marker to you to know what Copia you should expect when you come see him. Sure, you may be getting a playful Copia who just wants to hear your sweet laugh…or you might be getting a Copia who wants to use his mother tongue on you!

(I have longer, n/sfw ficlet with II & IV here 😏)

[jostepherjoestar]

After seeing tha La Squadra ask with the yakuza games I was wondering how the group would react if the yakuza La Squadra member had a few of their old yakuza friends visit Italy and their the characters from the yakuza games (let’s just say it’s in the same universe)

🐉 Former Yakuza La Squadra member gets a visit from Kiryu & Majima🐉 (multiple asks in one) (2,1k)

sfw // gn reader (reader is the former yakuza member)

After discovering Majima and Kiryu shared a mutual friend that had moved to Italy and joined a gang there, they were curious to know how they were faring, deciding on a whim to pay them a visit. Their old pal had left quite the impression on the two men back when they were part of the yakuza.

Set in an AU where the Yakuza in-game happenings and JJBA events take place in the same universe, the game does not exist, it’s just real life for the characters and La Squadra’s newest recruit that used to be in the Yakuza happened to be friends with Kiryu and Majima back in the day.

(Btw my interpretation of Majima when he’s alone with Kiryu is that he mostly drops his act and since he’s in a new country he is a little more timid towards strangers, don’t get me wrong, he will still start shit but maybe not as quick.)

It was a bright and sunny day, the sweet spring wind still holding some winter chill as it blew through your hair. You were sat on the bench across from the safe house, arms spread wide on the backrest, cigarette dangling on your lips while you basked in the warmth of sunshine. You quite enjoyed sitting like this, making it an uninviting scene for passersby or your teammates, not wanting anyone near you so you could relax in peace. Of course still on guard, never truly letting it down, there’s enough people out there that have a bone to pick with Passione, especially your division. You took another long drag of the cigarette, the overwhelming smoke entering your lungs like ashy clouds. But as you heard some rustling you reached over to grab the smoking bud and pressed it into the ground with your foot. There was something suspicious going on, you felt like you were being watched. You casually peered through half closed eyes at the building in front of you, no one had been staring through the windows. No, it felt like it came from a different direction. Lazily you stood up, stretching your core, twisting your middle from side to side while letting your arms get some movement, readying your body for possible combat. As you turned, you saw a trashcan wiggle in your peripheral. The movements looked very unusual, was there a cat stuck in it? But the can was placed so precisely on the corner of an alley, someone could easily be standing right around the bend to surprise-attack you. Picking up a rock and throwing it right at the middle of the can, even making an indent, you felt a bit idiotic for doing it. But still there was no further movement or sound. You were still curious so you without much thinking you crept closer. If it was an animal in need you’d feel bad to have left it to suffer.

As you stepped nearer, now in front of the dented can, having full vision of the alley you were met with someone you didn’t suspect in the slightest. “Kiryu-san?” You questioned, face frozen in shock. “Wh-what are you doing here? Am I dreaming?” you asked while rubbing your eyes, maybe if you rubbed them hard enough you’d wake up. The large man’s furrowed eyebrows softened as he was met with your familiar form. A small smile formed on his lips but he stayed quiet for some reason, opting to kick the trashcan in front of him instead. It burst open, the lid sent flying further into the alley as you both ducked for cover. “What the fuck Kiryu-chan?! I told you I got this!” Majima’s figure popped out, the snakeskin jacket crumpled from what looked like sitting in the confined space for far too long. You couldn’t believe your eyes, you’re sure your mouth was hanging open with eyes wider than a deer in headlights, like your brain had crashed and burned. “Ya went and ruined the surprise Kiryu-chan! And ya went and broke Oushi-chan as well.” The one eyed man gestured angrily while complaining, he’d planned out the perfect way to surprise you: to shock and fight you. But the only thing that snapped you out of your stupor was that stupid nickname, Oushi-chan. He basically called you a bull, giving you the nickname after you’d stormed angrily down the stairs of the Tojo Clan head office after a particularly frustrating meeting and nearly threw Majima down the stairs as you raced on by. “Stop calling me that! And what in the name of all that is sacred are you doing in Italy?” You hushed your yells as to not alert the entire neighbourhood of their arrival, helping the older man out of the trashcan. “We’d thought it was nice to come and visit you, see what you’ve been up to.” Kiryu calmly explained. “And calling was too expensive? You guys really scared the shit out of me!” Still filled with disbelief at their sudden appearance, but glad to see those familiar faces again. You did miss them too, the short time you shared with them still being remembered fondly. “Glad to see ya haven’t changed, ya did get an Italian accent though.” Majima playfully jabbed as he slung his arm around your shoulders. “Oh you’re one to talk about accents old man.” You prodded back as you pushed his arm off in annoyance, not taking any of the man’s teasing that easily. “Before you ask how we found you, I’ll explain.” Kiryu’s voice was still as deep as you remembered, telling you how they knew you were in Naples and even knew of Passione, it was just a matter of time until someone pointed you out (after some mild intimidation). Not that it was hard to spot you among the Italian men in your team. Hard for these two to talk, back in Tokyo you’d spot that grey suit and angry scowl from a mile away. And let’s not even pretend that Majima’s no-shirt-tacky-jacket-leather-pants look was any less eye catching. You huffed out a laugh, the shock of seeing these two finally wearing off as they started asking questions about how you’ve been and how work is. Happily chatting on the bench you were previously lounging on.

“So… what’s the nature of yer squad exactly? I mean ya look meaner than before, if that was even an option.” The one eyed man jested in a hushed voice, sure that it was a sensitive topic. “Well I like to think we’re the cleanup crew, bringing a bit more harmony to this field of work.” Ignoring his comment about your looks, sure that they helped you in this line of business. “That’s one way to phrase it.” Kiryu huffed out a chuckle, leaning his hands on his knees as he looked at you with a sympathetic smile. He admired your fervour, it was one of the reasons he was so fond of you. After hearing how you stood up against Majima and he didn’t slice you to bits, he was impressed at how you persuaded Majima to settle it through a game of hanafuda. The stoic man knew you liked to be alone, being used to it himself or rather preferring it somewhat over putting his loved ones in danger. He actually asked you to join his family if he ever became patriarch of his own one, he put a lot of trust in you.

After some more catching up you decided that perhaps you should show them around the house and introduce them to your teammates. Knowing how much they loved hearing your stories about your time in the yakuza, they’d surely appreciate to meet your old pals. You stepped in with the two men in tow, stopping in the entry way to hand your friends some slippers, it was a habit you never let go since moving here and you’d even convinced the rest of your house mates to go along with it. “Hey guys, I have some friends I’d like you to meet! Please don’t be weird!” You yelled loudly enough for the entire house to hear, even your capo on the top floor would be able to. Formaggio, Prosciutto and Pesci sauntered out of the living room, looking quite bored before noticing your two friends. Now they seemed interested. “So who’s the eye-patch guy and mister giant?” Formaggio joked as he elbowed Prosciutto who tutted his colleague for touching his suit. “Well these two gentlemen are my friends from Japan… from the yakuza…” it was so awkward to add that they were also involved in such things. You were pretty sure Kiryu was nearing his end run with the organisation anyway. “Oh and they do not understand a single word you’re saying, I’ll translate and yes I will filter out your jokes Formaggio.” You said in a serious tone. The two men behind you stood awkwardly awaiting any signal from you, Majima eyeing your teammates up and down, trying to get a good impression of them. Pesci seemed scared by the men but trying his best not to show it, only shaking a little. Majima thought him a perfect target to tease, holding himself back from his usual persona. “Prosciutto. Pesci. Formaggio.” Your blond colleague introduced them curtly, hands still in his pockets. Kiryu understood the introductions and gave a little nod, Majima followed with a grunt. “This is Majima-san and Kiryu-san.” The mingling of Italian and Japanese still being something you were trying to get used to, only having been able to speak Italian since you arrived. You led the men into the sitting room, the three colleagues retreating back to their card game while you and the other two sat down on the couches. Your colleagues weren’t really that interested it seemed or maybe just unsure of them for now. As you excused yourself to get some drinks for your guests, you were a little worried to leave them by themselves, you knew they could handle themselves physically, but it was more the communication part that you were worried about. You returned with a couple of glasses filled with juice as you saw Melone had slinked inside the living room, gently placing himself on the one seater next to the couch. “So who are these guys?” He asked curiously while leering, perhaps making Kiryu blush a little since Melone kept staring at him. You quickly introduced them to him and shushed him out of your seat, instead he sat on the armrests of the chair. Majima sat up a little, not really liking the looks of the purple haired one. “Is he always like that?” he asked, being a little weirded out. “Yes, yes he is.” You replied with a sigh as your teammate kept staring with a grin on his face, happy to just quietly observe.

You nearly sprung out of your chair when Risotto entered the doorway, feeling like you’d overstepped by bringing in your friends. Majima cocked an eyebrow at your behaviour, not knowing what superior could make you act like that. That was until he turned around as well. “Risotto I-, excuse me for bringing them in but they came all the way from Japan to check up on me.” You pleaded in a hurry as your capo took in the people in the room. “Don’t worry.” He said while giving a nod to the guests while taking them in, having a bit of a stare off with Majima or more like Majima didn’t want to lose eye contact. He felt an innate need to fight Risotto, not because he wanted to hurt him, he just wanted to see what the large man was made off. Risotto reminded Majima of his dear friend next to him. “I’ll be going back to work but please treat their guests nicely.” Risotto aimed his comment at the other men in the room, seeing them not really interact with the guests just yet. You sunk back down in your chair and sighed in relief. “He’s got ya whipped Oushi-chan.” Majima joked as he saw your cheeks get a little flushed.

Slowly but surely with lots of hard work the men actually started talking (with your help translating), Kiryu was still a bit demure but you didn’t expect him to be otherwise, respecting his usual style. After a while Prosciutto even invited them to play a round of cards, all sat around the table while he dealt them. A simple game of blackjack. You actually quite enjoyed the intermingling of your past and present, happy to know there were still people looking out for you back home. Not even sure if you were still allowed to call it home, having perhaps found a new one.

And yes Melone did ask to fight Majima, who quickly agreed since he thought the lithe man was weird and needed some readjusting. Of course Majima won, you sternly asked Melone not to use his stand. The whole thing was quite amusing actually, even Kiryu seemed to enjoy it.

[horrorslashergirl]

Decebal Avram Chirilă Headcanons

Authors Note: I did some Headcanons for my Romania Original Characters and used a lot of history references to depict his character. I think it turned out to be good, but I am very certain. Also, I have no grudge against other countries and such. This is strictly for my character. I mean; just because you create a character that kills that doesn’t mean you support real life murder or you kill yourself. Good, now that we made that clear. ENJOY!

Rebel with a cause; Outlaw by heart

Decebal is someone that both stands out and can blend in, which is a paradox. He stands out mostly because of his very tall form and handsome eccentric features; basically, when he enters a room he lights it up with his attitude. The blend in part is mostly after the big entrance in a room. He is multilingual and can fake accents, which confuses people. For example, he went to Italy multiple times and the local ones there thought at first he was a foreigner, until Decebal put on the Italian accent, speaking it fluently; the locals were confused. Is he Italian? Doesn't look like it.

He doesn't like uncultured people. He is a man who loves to learn about other countries' histories and culture, to broaden his horizons in this aspect. Knowledge is the second most valuable treasure along with Freedom. He is happy to explain culture and information misunderstandings about his country. 'No, dragă. Romanian isn't a Slavic language. It's a Latin language.' He had to explain this way too many times.

History has put a great impact on Decebal; he loves and hates it at the same time. He loves it because you get valuable lessons out of it; for example, in November 1942 Soviet forces launched a counteroffensive against the Germans arrayed at Stalingrad in mid-November 1942. They quickly encircled an entire German army, more than 220,000 soldiers. In February 1943, after months of fierce fighting and heavy casualties, the surviving German forces—only about 91,000 soldiers—surrendered. How did this happen? Stalingrad wasn't an important target, but Hitler wanted to destroy it mostly because of its name that comes from Stalin.... In conclusion, PRIDE destroyed them.

Decebal is anxious around Russians, although he does visit the country, mostly because of Ukraine and Belarus. Decebal is anxious around Russian's because of their history. One issue is that prior to World War I, the Romanians sent their gold reserves to Russia for safekeeping but the Russians did not return the gold after the war. Take it like this; Romania was an ally with Germany and Russia. The German's when they went to brothels, they brought flowers and chocolate, while the Russian beat and raped them. The Romanian women covered themselves with charcoal to make themselves ugly and unattractive to the Russians. Now, Decebal doesn't judge because of your nationality, but if you do prove you are like that, well.... Tough luck. Russia is a nation with power or strength as its national idea and they have repeatedly shown that they do not care about ideals like “legality” or “legitimacy” but respect force and military power only. This trait does not make you popular among your neighbors. Instead, you´re seen as an aggressive jackass who abuses and bullies others.

There are also many reasons why Decebal has anxiety towards Russians, all because of history. Romanians were forced to learn Russian. Romanians who are older still, almost universally, will tell you that they know one phrase in Russian: "Дайте часы!" ("Give me a watch!") Because that's what the Soviet liberating soldiers told every Romanian as they liberated them of their wrist watches (and anything else they fancied) when WW2 ended. Among other things that the Russians liberated from Romanians? The entire Romanian national treasure. Oh, and Moldova. Decebal has Moldovian blood running through his veins. Basically, Romania trusted Russia with its national treasure, Russia being an ally. 

Decebal, if he is your ally, won't ever leave you on the battlefield, he is a 'go all the way or die' type. He's tired of how cowardice has affected his country and himself, so he is willing to fight till death. If you have strong beliefs and are passionate about something he will support them. Think of him as a shield of steel.

He hates the dictator-like attitude; he had to endure a lot of that shit and he is in no mood to listen to someone that thinks they're the big bad one just because they induce fear and brutality like an uneducated mindless jackass. Seriously, don't try to impose him with that kind of attitude because at some point his rage will come undone. There's a Romanian saying 'Mi-sa umplut paharul', which basically means that he won't take your shit anymore. Decebal is as scary as he is friendly. You don't wanna see this guy get into that mood. When he gets angry, which rarely happens, there's a cold wind that hits the nape of your neck, a dead silence that makes you wonder what will happen and a shadow casts his face, his almost white eyes illuminating under that shadow. Short story.... If you're the unlucky soul that has angered him, your body will be turned into shish kebab.... very tiny pieces and he will do that oh so slowly. 

Getting over these dark vibes, Decebal is a music lover, one of the many things that keep his grin on and his eyes sparkling with life. He has an mp3 player with earphones in the pocket of his jacket and loves to listen to it during the most normal and abnormal times. He will listen to music at night while sitting on the roof of a house/building or..... He will fight with the earphones on and music blasting. He sings, and he is pretty good at it.

Decebal has so many faces that it's hard to really put a label on him. Some see him as a very cultured gentleman with a charismatic personality that brightens every room he enters. Then there are the ones that describe him as a hooligan, a punk, a very vulgar and blunt person who has no shame and mercy. He is really just a way too honest misunderstood guy with a vertebral column that cannot be bend.

He is a guy that appreciates the little things life has to offer. Life during Romanian communism really imprinted on his life. Give him a little piece of bread and he will be grateful to you. The food ration during that time was harsh; no more than half a loaf of bread, not too much meat, or sugar, and so on. Food is a luxury in Decebal's eyes.

Decebal is more used to the night than day, mostly because all his life he spend it in darkness. He spent months in underground jails without seeing the light of the day, losing track of time. Plus the communist government cut off electricity from 6:00 - 8:00 pm each night across the country to preserve energy. He sees in darkness like a cat and his ears are very sensitive.

Decebal loves his home country very much because he knows how much potential this little country has. Romania is Europe’s richest country in gold resources, Romania boasts the world’s largest administrative building, The largest population of brown bears in Europe lives in Romania, The Statue of Decebalus in Orsova is Europe’s largest rock sculpture, The only gold museum in Europe is found in Romania and also Romania has one of the happiest cemeteries on Earth, a reason for why Decebal makes jokes even in the face of death. On each grave there, is written dark humor poetry. Here's an example:

Under this heavy cross

Lies my poor mother in-law

Three more days should she have lived

I would lie, and she would read (this cross).

You, who here are passing by

Not to wake her up please try

Cause’ if she comes back home

She’ll criticise me more.

But I will surely behave

So she’ll not return from grave.

Stay here, my dear mother in-law!

[jeanjauthor]

I have a bunch of regions with different accents. Any tips on how I imply that?

I do have a few! One of the things you can do is listen to accents, and then try to type them out phoenetically--BUT, do not put that into your story.

Why not? Because transcribing the phoenetic version of an accent syllable for syllable is, well, an exaggeration, and that makes it a stereotype. But you can put in a few touches. The trick is to figure out how to distill each accent down to its unique linguistic qualities, and add touches of that.

"BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!!"

Accents aren't the only thing about regional dialects, because regional variations aren't just how words are pronounced. There are also phrases that are endemic to a specific culture, regional or national, or even occupational.

(Yes, occupational! A blacksmith may temper steel, while a chocolatier also tempers chocolate. In one way, they mean two almost completely different / separate things...even though it's both a matter of picking the right temperature at which to crystalize the material being created. Yet you wouldn't hear a blacksmith discussing how to smooth out impurities in their metal by using a melangeur.)

Anyway!

Canadians like to end things with "...eh?" (pronounced ay as in day). Americans tend to say "huh" instead. But where and when Americans use "huh" varies from where and where Canadians use "eh" because it's often used by Canadians to inject a conversation-leavening note that solicits the potential agreement from a listener. An American "huh" is more of an exclamation / emphasis. Unless it's literally being used as a question (such as for someone who wasn't paying attention), it isn't a question or an interrogative, so much as an emphatic sentence-ender.

Americans will also pronounce Z as zee, while Canadians, Brits, and other English-speaking cultures influenced by the Commonwealth will tend to pronounce Z as zed. Americans will say the trunk of the car, Canadians will call it the boot, and they'll say "open the bonnet" when an American means "open the hood" aka the lid enclosing the engine compartment of a car.

And even within a greater culture, you'll have regional variation--and even arguments--over which word will be used. Do you call a non-alcoholic carbonated sweetened drink soda, pop, cola, or soda-pop?

Individual words can indicate a regional dialect & culture, but so can whole phrases. "He's gone bonkers!" versus "He's stark raving mad!" "He's f---in' crazy!" are all from different cultures. When a woman from the Upper Midwest puts her hands on her hips and says, "Well, now!" it's the same thing as an Italian woman flinging her hands up in the air and shouting, "Basta!" (which means "Enough!")

These phrases can also contain cultural attitudes, too. Where a woman from the Pacific Northwest might eye an idiot and say, "You are being a total Chad / Karen right now!" meaning they are trying to scold the person being an ass, a Southern woman from, say, Georgia, might look them in the eye, smile sweetly, and say, "Bless your heart!" Which is quite possiblyi the sweetest and kindest way to tell someone they're being a f---in' idiot. The thing is, though, that someone from the Pacific Northwest might not know that they've just been chided and insulted by the Southerner, but you can bet a fellow Southerner would feel the sting and the lash of that remark!

If you're working with a created world, you're probably going to want to come up with a list of phrases and phoenetic accent choices, and write them down under the name of that region. For instance, some people would pronounce the -g in f---ing, giving the last three letters an -eeng sound, but others would pronounce it f---in', making in -ihn for its sound.

(However, there are also rules for that kind of dialectism, whether it's the full -ing or the abbreviated -in'...and for that particular word, there are times when you do want to give it the full pronunciation for impact, versus times you just want to slip it in there for quick punctuation of a point (emotional or conversational) in a discussion.

Lastly, even within regions, there will be class or caste variations. Those who are poor versus those who are rich, those who are highly / widely educated versus those who have had little education, so on and so forth. One of the reasons why words such as piss, shit, and so forth are considered vulgar in English is because they were Anglo-Saxon words, the language of the peasantry.

The French-Norman ruling class who moved in and took over with William the Conqueror were allowed to say words like merde (shit in French) because it was in their language. They were the conquerers, they had to be respected at all times, and thus the peasantry had to be respectful at all times. This extended to the Norman conquerors not having to learn Anglo-Saxon for several generations, instead forcing the commoners to learn their language to have any conversations with the higher caste.

So in your created cultures, you should also know who would be allowed to swear (if anyone) as well as what words they would use. Generationally, there will also be some differences. Someone who was a teen in the mid-20th century would say "daddy-o" to a companion, whereas a teen today might say "bro" when talking to a companion. And while in my generation as a teen (i'm 49, so it was a while ago), we might've risked getting our mouth washed out by calling an unpleasant female a bitch, these days, teens can call someone a bitch, or they can call someone a Karen--depending on what kind of unpleasant female they're being.

It is a lot to consider, but if you keep the implementation of accents light, with a list of a few key phrases, spellings, that sort of thing for each regional culture and/or generation, you can keep track of it.

Above all, do not paint yourself into a corner. Accents are a part of language, and language is constantly evolving. Go back just 10 years, and nobody would know what you meant by she's such a Karen. Maybe 10 years from now, we'll be using another term...?

(...Then again, maybe not; those bitchy-to-others archetypes have always been around, and I doubt we're going to give up such a one-word-encapsulates-it-all term for conversational shorthand.)

Hope that helps!

[redbeanboi]

How different is Sicilian, Neapolitan and regular Italian? I don’t know much of any dialect so I’m guessing it’s probably the spelling and pronounciation? 🧐

HNNGbdhhs there are so many things..... you are about to unleash the knowledge I have accumulated in the past 22 months for my writing—

Disclaimer: I’m not a native speaker. Just learning! I’m including some notes/charts I’ve made for myself.

All three languages share Latin origins. Standard Italian is readily available to study so I won’t focus on that too much. Neapolitan, on the other hand has Greek, Spanish, and French influences, etc. Sicilian has massive influences of Ancient Greek, Spanish, Arabic, Catalan and French. That being said they are all rather different from one another, not only with pronunciation but grammar too! 

Anyway I could go on and on about the differences for like years. I’ll just point out a few things I’ve noticed and learned as I’ve (sort of) independently studied these languages.

You most likely won’t encounter full-on Sicilian unless you go into the smaller villages or rural areas. Cities generally use Standard Italian at work, etc., though it will definitely be spoken with a Sicilian accent. Same goes for Neapolitan: people won’t really speak it outside of social settings and will not speak it to a tourist/”foreigner.”

Neapolitan 

Word endings are usually cut off (usually a vowel), so you’ll get stuff like omm’ a merd’ (’man of shit,’ if you’ve read BBP Ch. 8) or a phrase like Ssì brutt’ quant’ 'o ddébbit’ (meaning ‘you’re as ugly as debt/you’re ugly’). 

Non-stressed vowels → “uh.” These vowels take on the schwa sound that you see pretty often in English. Capa, or head, is pronounced with this schwa sound, so it sounds less like the “Kah-pah” you’d hear in Standard Italian and more like “Kah-puh.” 

“Gi” → “J.” So giornata becomes jornata, and because j’s sound like “y,” you would pronounce it “Yor-nata.” ( I like to think Don Elio pronounces “Giorno” as “Jorno” instead, just to be extra rude. )

Plural forms are pretty much the same for nouns, regardless of their gender. (’a and ‘o endings → ‘e)

Pronouns are different:

The same goes for conjugations! Very different. I’ll use the present indicative tense for the verb èssere (“to be”)

Some of my favoriteeee Neapolitan phrases/sayings include:

“Stongo chino ‘e suonno” — literally “I’m full of sleep” which I think is cute

“Ttiene ‘a capa ppè spartere ‘e rrecchie“ — literally “he/she [only] has a head to keep his/her ears apart,” i.e. very rude way to call someone stupid. Can be considered a funny way of telling a friend to be careful.

Sicilian

This one’s got a lot of interesting little things I’ve noticed as I’ve (attempted) to learn it.

Same non-stressed vowel rule applies (see above). Stressed “a” will make an “ah” sound and an unstressed “a” will make an “uh” sound.

Sicilian has some consonant sounds that do not occur in Italiano or Napulitano, the most famous example being the double D or “dd.” Generally this occurs when there is a double L in Italiano. One of the many retroflex consonants unique to Siciliano (there’s more in the Phonology section on this page if you’re interested!) 

Example: bello and cavallo → beddu and cavaddu

There are a number of Greek and Arabic influences on specific vocabulary, including: sciàbaca or sciabachèju, (“fishing net”) from sabaka (Arabic). Likewise, the Sicilian word for ram is “crastu,” from the Greek kràstos and cufinu (basket) comes from kophynos. There’s plenty more but if I kept going I wouldn’t be able to stop. Wikipedia actually has an extensive list of Sicilian words by their origin.^^

Again, Pronouns are different from Italiano:

Same goes for conjugations; for the purposes of comparing to both Italiano and Napulitano, I’ll show the conjugations (present tense) for essiri (”to be”):

Some of my favorite Sicilian phrases include:

Chiù nniuri ri mezzannotte nun pò fari — “It can’t get any darker than midnight”

Vidi Palermu e gori, vidi Napuli e poi mori — “See Palermo and enjoy it, see Naples then die” (lol I feel like this is something everyone in the Signora’s family would say before the events of BBP)

That’s really just the tip of the iceberg, but I hope this was helpful!! I’m enjoying every second I spend trying to learn these three, and getting to make a little post about it was very fun lol.

There’s actually more where that came from so please dm if you’re looking to sprinkle this into your VA fics and want a study buddy

[nnegan13]

the mood is hella depressing rn, save us with some fics before the beach date :( (half joking haha, you'll post when they're complete, no pressure, and they've all been wonderful so far!)

ok sorry that I didn’t respond before the beach date but here’s something for you bc this is fucking distracting me 

(also thank you for being so kind ily

@edonori @cachekakusu for you bc it’s incantava depression hours lads 

ft. eleonora “no brain cells only swearing” sava and edoardo “doesn’t actually know how to flirt” incanti 

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 30 

21:02 

DOWNTOWN MILAN 

20:59, message from Eva 

[pic] 

Don’t be impressed or anything 

But edo taught me how to make tiramisu tonight 

And it’s fucking delicious

Bring Stephan over and have some 👅👅👅 

Eleonora shoves her phone into her pocket as Stephan exits the little pastry shop, paper bag in hand, and wonders for the fifth time that night why she bailed on dinner. Sure, it’s nice to be with Stephan again, he was her closest friend from the program—more than a friend, if she’s being truly honest—but they made fucking tiramisu—her favorite and Eva knows it’s her favorite even though it’s only been two months since they started living together, this is clearly bait and it’s working—and Stephan is insisting on taking her to tourist trap after tourist trap. She’s lived in Milan for three years now, a cathedral is a cathedral no matter how fancy they look, and she doesn’t want to talk about how the decoration on this particular set of buttresses compares to the decoration on the buttresses from the church they were at previously. 

Not to mention it’s fucking nine o’clock at night and all the cathedrals are closed and he’s offering this commentary from beyond their fancy fences in English because his Italian is shit and she only wants to die a little bit. 

“Here,” Stephan says, offering the bag to her with a smile, and Eleonora peeks inside at the two cannoli he got, thinks of Eva’s message, and reaches inside to grab one. Edoardo’s place is way too close for her not to be tempted.

“So,” she starts, biting into the cannolo and getting filling all over her chin. Stephan laughs a little, as does she, but before he can do something like wipe it off for her, she swipes the filling up her chin and into her already full mouth, turning away so he can’t see more of the mess. 

God, this night is going well. 

She chews and swallows hastily, looking back to him with her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.” 

“No, you’re fine,” he says. “Perhaps I should’ve got napkins.” 

“Maybe.” She offers him a little smile, but judging by the look on his face it probably turned into a grimace. She starts walking again just so that she can stop making stupid expressions. “Listen, you said you wanted to try authentic Italian food, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, good.” She gestures with her cannolo and thinks of how best to phrase her proposition without it sounding like she’s trying to escape their outing. “Now, these are pretty good, but my friend just told me he made tiramisu tonight and he’s the best at cooking, baking, you name it.” Hopefully Eva lives up to the hype, or that Edoardo had a hand in most of the preparation. “Do you want to go try it?” 

Stephan sounds hesitant. “Would we be interrupting anything?” 

“No, no, he always invites people over when he makes stuff,” she says. “He even said I should bring you.” 

Stephan latches onto the wrong part of the sentence. “You’ve told your friends about me?” 

Shit, her eyes laser on the sidewalk. “Um, yeah, when we were making plans for this week.” 

“Okay.” His tone is smug and she takes another bite of her cannolo to avoid saying anything more. “Sounds fun.” 

It’s more of a relief than it should be to know that she’ll make it to Edoardo’s tonight. “Great! His place is right around here.”

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 30 

21:37 

VILLA BOYS’ APARTMENT 

Everyone keeps trying their English out on Stephan. At first it’s amusing, watching him try to navigate Chicco and Rocco shouting every statistic they know about the football teams in the UK at him, and then Luca practicing his various accents (Russian is Eleonora’s favorite) for Stephan’s approval, and then Silvia and Federica having the bright idea that they’ll talk at him in English and he’ll answer back in his terrible Italian and they’ll give each other tips. 

Then it becomes her downright favorite thing that’s happened tonight because everyone is so invested in talking to him that Eleonora doesn’t have to anymore. Whether or not that makes her a bad person is a moral quandary she’ll explore later. For now? 

“Oh, sorry, didn’t see you there.” Edoardo bumps into her, tone overly casual, startling her enough that she drops her fork, and leans against the counter next to her. He says, surprised, “Oh, shit, sorry,” and bends to pick it up off the floor.

She stares at the mop of curls on his head and regrets, again, not coming to dinner earlier. He holds it out to her, a little smile on his face. What the fuck is he up to? “Here.” 

“Ah, yes, exactly what I wanted,” she says, raising her eyebrows at him. “Floor fork to go with my fantastic tiramisu.” 

“Glad to know you think it’s fantastic.” He places the fork in the sink behind them and pulls another out of a drawer. A beat passes and he doesn’t hand it to her.

“Glad to know you don’t understand sarcasm.” It really is good tiramisu, the best she’s had in a while, but he’s holding her fork hostage and that is uncalled for. She holds her hand out, palm up. “Can I have that?” 

“It’ll cost you.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, gaze lingering on the little smile that’s come on his face again, and thinks. Seriously, what the fuck is he up to? “What?” 

He nods at the plate in her other hand. “Half your piece.” 

That fucker, she just barely started eating it when he made her drop her fork! He narrows his eyes as well, smile growing into something more like a teasing grin, and she relents. “Fine.” 

Shifting forward, Eleonora moves to lean her forearms on the island countertop in front of them, setting her plate down so that when Edoardo mimics her, it rests between them. She has to force her eyes from his forearms when he presses them into the countertop. He brandishes the fork, raising his eyebrows at her, when they’re interrupted.

“I think we’re gonna get going, guys,” Martino calls from the kitchen doorway and she looks over to find him and Niccolo standing very, very close to one another, jackets pulled haphazardly on, and cheeks slightly red. She wonders if they also took advantage of the hubbub around Stephan to do more…exciting things than practice their English. 

A chorus of goodbyes sends them off, Elia taking a dramatic moment to give them each a bear hug, and as the door closes behind them, Edoardo says to her, “One time I caught them in my room. During a party.” 

“In your room.” 

“In my room.” He shrugs, stabbing the fork into the tiramisu. “Not as bad as the time I walked in on Eva and some random guy, though.” 

She grimaces. “Also in your room?” 

“Also in my room.” 

Shaking her head, she pushes the plate closer to him as he puts the fork in his mouth. “Just for that, you can have as much as you want.” 

He laughs a little but hands the fork over as he chews and her eyes catch on his smile as he looks at her. Something wiggles in her chest and she takes her own bite to distract herself. 

Taking the fork back when she hands it to him, he asks, “How’s it been with Stephan?” 

“Um—” she swallows, tiramisu suddenly ash in her mouth, and that thing in her chest wiggles again. Why is he asking her this? “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, you said you dated him back in high school, right?” He asks, glancing away from her. “Isn’t that what this whole week is?” He stabs at the plate again and she looks at the countertop. “A whole bunch of dates?” 

Maybe to Stephan. Fuck, is he thinking that? Does Edoardo seriously think she’s trying to date Stephan? “No, no. He’s just been coming to Italy every year for so long that it’s kind of like a habit at this point.” 

She bites her lip again and looks up just as he looks over, turning the fork upside down and putting it into his mouth, and, shit, she’s always known deep down somewhere inside her that Edoardo is attractive, but watching him pull a fork out of his mouth should not be that hot. More wiggling in her chest. “I don’t—I don’t know if we’ll do it again.” 

“Why not?” 

She shrugs and turns her gaze to the countertop, playing with her fingers and trying to say something coherent. Because the entire time I was on a decently romantic outing with him, I was thinking of being back here in your apartment. “We’ve both changed over the years, I don’t know if there’s much connection anymore.” 

A beat passes where neither of them say anything and, against all common sense, she glances over at him again. He must’ve had a rather large bite of tiramisu, because there’s filling dotted at the corner of his mouth and a little on his bottom lip. “You have—”

Her brain must’ve stopped computing. That’s exactly what happened. Because a normal person with a working brain would’ve just pointed at it, let Edoardo wipe it away himself, and left it at that. But, no— 

Eleonora finds herself reaching over, swiping the filling off his very soft lip with her thumb, making eye contact, and fucking sticking her thumb in her mouth. What are napkins? What is sanity? What is a normal goddamn human interaction? She’s never heard of any of those. 

His lips part just a hair as she pulls her thumb, clean now, from her mouth, and for the second time that night, she wants to die a little. What the fuck is she doing? 

Before she can make an even greater fool of herself, Stephan returns to the kitchen. “Nora?” 

“Hm?” She jumps at the chance to look away from Edoardo, watching her with something she might pin as adoration in his eyes (if she allowed herself time to think about it), and pushes off from the counter. 

“I’ve got to get going, we’re starting pretty early in the morning.” 

“Right.” He’s speaking in English and it takes her a moment to translate. What is he talking about? Why is he telling her this? Glancing down, she sees that Edoardo holds so much tension in his shoulders and swallows, nodding at Stephan. “Right. Um, let me just get my stuff.”  

Stephan nods as well, eyes darting between her and Edoardo, and heads back into the living room when she doesn’t move. 

Edoardo must feel her stare drilling into his back because he stands, coming to his full height, and turns to her. For a moment, her heart pounds so loudly she thinks he might hear it. But then he quirks an eyebrow at her, and repeats with a terrible English accent, “Nora?”

“It’s what I went by over there,” she says as a teasing grin spreads on his face. He’s laughing at her, and she shoves his shoulder lightly. “Don’t be an ass about it.” 

He shakes his head, still grinning. “Go get your stuff.” 

She almost forgot she has to leave now, and it makes her brain short circuit, again, to hear him say it. Surges forward, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and it takes a moment for his arms to come around her, large hands palming her back. This is the first time she’s really hugged him like this, entire body thrown into it, and there’s more damn wiggles in her chest. 

This is shaping up to be the most confusing night ever. 

There’s a cough from the doorway and when she looks over, Stephan is standing there, her jacket and bag in hand. Hastily, she draws back from Edoardo, somehow already missing the gentle pressure of his hands as they drop to his side. His head is bowed as he leans his hip into the counter, but he’s looking up at her through his lashes with a little smile, and she brushes a strand of hair from her face. “Um, thanks for inviting us.” 

He bites his lip. “Anytime.” 

In the living room, Eleonora finds herself giving everyone massive hugs, Stephan watching from the front door, so he doesn’t peg her goodbye to Edoardo as out of sorts. She doesn’t want him asking questions she doesn’t have the answers to. 

Edoardo watches as well, leaning against the kitchen doorway with an expression akin to smugness as her confused friends take her giant hugs instead of the typical cheek kiss in stride. Chicco and Federico especially make a big deal out of it, squishing her in a group hug between them, and Edoardo winks at her as she catches his eye. 

What a fucking mess. 

Stephan says as they make it into the stairwell, “Your friends are fun.” 

They’re a nightmare, is what they are. “Thanks.” 

[lavender-hemlock]

Aw.. Shit, here we go again. (Questions below the cut because I’m not an asshole like the below.) 

@kazexvoss

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

1. What is you middle name?

Marie

2. How old are you?

23

3. When is your birthday?

October 7th

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Libra

5. What is your favorite color?

Burgundy

6. What’s your lucky number?

7

7. Do you have any pets?

One dog

8. Where are you from?

The US-Tragedy-A

9. How tall are you?

Hahaha.. 5′.  10. What shoe size are you?

Size 6

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Probably over ten.. and more than half are boots. 

12. What was your last dream about? Asked by breaking-from-grace

13. What talents do you have?

I guess I have a talent for my empathy, art, and writing? Not sure what merits as a talent without being overzealous. 

14. Are you psychic in any way?

I’ve been called a witch because of intuition for emotions of others? Or being scary close to presuming things. 

Sadly can’t bend any spoons, stay tuned. 

15. Favorite song?

Toooo many. Music is too vast to pick just one, but I’ve been listening to Day Dreaming - Jack & Jack a lot lately. 

16. Favorite movie?

Probably the Phantom of the Opera version with Gerard Butler. 

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

Someone who is capable of respecting the flow of my energy. When I need space, when I’m all for being close. It isn’t that I’m picky or moody, but I know what I need and also don’t need them being worried when I’m just being quiet and reading a book. It’s just a mutual respect and understanding. 

Ya feel? 

18. Do you want children?

Yeah. Which is weird to think about. I’m not in any rush. 

19. Do you want a church wedding?

I think it is right for me to pursue it, but kinda no. I want a venue probably really low key done up in lights, curtains, and simplicity that doesn’t need a huge budget. Its about the bond, right? 

20. Are you religious?

Yep, I am a christian. 

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

I have! I had a piggy bank get knocked on top of my head when I was little and my mom rushed me to the hospital. I think that was the first time I saw stars. Only time though!

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

Yeeeeap. 

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Yes! I’ve been fortunate to meet a few bands and also see the cast of Fast and the Furious. I got to go on set for the 5th movie! I was lucky. 

24. Baths or showers?

Showers. 

25. What color socks are you wearing?

Black. I hate this question. I’m looking at only one person rn. 

26. Have you ever been famous?

Kinda? Yet I think famous in this way is very subjective? I had my old (and first) RP community for like eleven years. Its not fun when everyone knows your name, I’ll tell you that. You get put on a pedestal or get called terrible things if you don’t respond. It was a whack time. I don’t miss it. I was just famous for the designs I would put for the community and being like a “veteran” member with tons of “powers” (community bling). Blegh. 

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

Nope. I admire those that do great things and gain that attention for the work they have put in, but its a double sword. Everyone knows your business and looks at you. Seems like a ant under a magnifying glass analogy.  

28. What type of music do you like?

I like a lot of pop/alternative. I listen to generally everything except some heavy techno/bass stuff isn’t really for me. 

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Nope, don’t plan to. What if a snake bit my ass? How do I explain that to a doctor. 

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

3!

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I have to pick one!?

32. How big is your house?

It’s modest. 

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Asked by Caewen!

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

Yes! I have been trained to use one strictly for defense over the home. What a sad world. 

35. Have you ever tried archery?

No, but I wish!

36. Favorite clean word?

Cleaaaan? 

37. Favorite swear word?

Fuck. 

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

Hahahaha 72 hours. I like sleep. 

39. Do you have any scars? Asked by Sangria-Fangs!

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

Yeah! It’s.. okay. Kind of creeps me out tbh. 

41. Are you a good liar?

No. I would psych myself out. 

42. Are you a good judge of character?

Yeah. It took a lot of fuck-ups to figure that out!

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

Poorly. All of them. 

44. Do you have a strong accent?

No.

45. What is your favorite accent?

Gosh. British or Australian. 

46. What is your personality type?

INFJ. 

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

Boots! 

48. Can you curl your tongue? Cries. Asked by Caewen. 

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

Innie. This is weird. 

50. Left or right handed?

Right handed!

51. Are you scared of spiders?

Don’t @ me. 

52. Favorite food?

Snow crab.

53. Favorite foreign food?

Italian. 

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

SO fresh and SO clean ~

55. Most used phrased?

”I dare everyday.” She says before she does something stupid. 

56. Most used word?

Ye. 

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

Anywhere from 5 minutes to over 30 minutes. There is no inbetween in this. 

58. Do you have much of an ego?

Either the biggest in the room or the smallest. There is no inbetween. 

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

BITE. 

60. Do you talk to yourself?

When I’m trying to focus really hard. 

61. Do you sing to yourself?

Only to myself, yes. In my car and forgetting there’s someone in the car next to me? yes. 

62. Are you a good singer?

I’d like to think so. 

63. Biggest Fear?

Snakes. 

64. Are you a gossip?

No, but I’ll discuss, not spread. 

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? Asked by Hingan-Fox!

66. Do you like long or short hair?

I like both!

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

Unfortunately. 

68. Favorite school subject?

Literature. 

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Kinda inbetween. Ask me on a random day, it may be one or the other. 

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

No but it sounds cool!

71. What makes you nervous?

Confrontation. 

72. Are you scared of the dark?

Kinda. 

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

It depends on the thing. If its not my place, I won’t. If they’re ignorant, it depends if its worth it. If they deserve it- passionately. 

74. Are you ticklish?

I will stab you. 

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

Nope

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

Yep!

77. Have you ever drank underage?

Yeeeap. 

78. Have you ever done drugs?

Mary Jane. 

79. Who was your first real crush?

A boy in kindergarten who drew me cards everyday and left them in my desk each morning. ; ; 

80. How many piercings do you have?

None! Needles and I do not work out. 

81. Can you roll your Rs? 

I can’t even curl my tongue and now I get this question. 

82. How fast can you type?

90 WPM average. 

83. How fast can you run?

Fast as fuck boi. I’m just memeing now, aren’t I? Just trying to get through this. I don’t think anyone will get this far. 

84. What color is your hair?

Dark brown!

85. What color is your eyes?

Green-blueishhhh. Depends on the day/lighting. 

86. What are you allergic to?

Wax and bees. 

87. Do you keep a journal?

I used to until someone read it lol. 

88. What do your parents do?

Work? 

89. Do you like your age?

I kinda have to? 

90. What makes you angry? Asked by Caewen! Oo boy. 

91. Do you like your own name?

Yeah, I’d say its just fine. It’s mine.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

Jace and Claire. 

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

Happy with either.

94. What are you strengths?

Empathy, understanding.

95. What are your weaknesses?

Patience (depends), Failure. 

96. How did you get your name?

They said they just shouted it out until they figured they could say it everyday for the rest of my life and not get tired of it- and the meaning is pretty. 

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

I don’t think so. Never looked into it. 

98. Do you have any scars? Asked by Sangria-Fangs!

99. Color of your bedspread?

White.

100. Color of your room?

White, greys. I like snow and furs and lights. 

Now, after all that- I am clearly no bitch @kazexvoss. Do yours. 

[yallreddieforthis]

I Can’t Believe It’s Not Richie

Fandom: It (2017)

Pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Rating: T (for language)

Words: 2.7k

Pre-relationship. Movie canon-compliant but not book. Also posted on AO3

The Greater Fool Series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 (NSFW) | Part 5

It seems impossible that a person can be both that shitty and the shit at the same time but like...it’s Richie. And since Richie doesn’t give a single fuck about following any kind of rules, Eddie guesses the ones that govern Eddie’s emotions don’t apply to him either. Greaaaat.

Sometimes Eddie can't believe it's Richie.

Maybe even most of the time, like when everything out of his mouth is your mom and my wang and it's just words, it's not even funny, and Eddie can only tune him out or try to talk over him. Richie cannot shut the fuck up for one goddamn second. And it's not even like Eddie can pin it to anything specific—like, oh, Richie talks more when he's angry or nervous or excited—because he does it when he's every one of those things and any other thing besides. The tone may change—the subject matter even—but the talking. Never. Stops.

Eddie doesn’t really consider himself a beacon of cultural knowledge, but he does own a TV. So he at least has a vague idea of what a British person might sound like, which is more than he can say for Richie. Richie also owns a TV, and yet his British Guy impression is so god-awful that Eddie has to assume he’s basing it on someone’s description of a fever dream they once had about a London street urchin from the eighteen hundreds. This only applies to the actual words though, not the pronunciation—which is pretty much indistinguishable from just Richie being Richie—and that’s across the board for all the voices, not just the British Guy. For someone who loves imitating other people as much as Richie does, it’s unbelievable how remarkably all his Guys sound like they’re from Derry, Maine. Because shouting out mangled phrases he half-remembers from the time he watched Mary Poppins six years ago—in the most American voice imaginable—is still somehow Richie’s interpretation of a British accent.

That isn’t even the worst part of The Voices though. The worst part is that Richie seems to have a sixth sense that alerts him to the exact moment at which it would most infuriate Eddie for him to do one, and invariably it’s as if a little light goes off in the least-developed part of his brain that says Time To Be Italian! (or Southern, or German—he has a constantly expanding, but not noticeably improving, repertoire) and it’s like he just has to do it right then. Sometimes it makes Eddie want to scream at him. Sometimes Eddie does scream at him. But screaming makes no difference; Eddie knows perfectly well that Richie will absolutely do it again the second the urge strikes him, no matter how inappropriate the timing or what Eddie does in reaction.

He's fucking gross too. Not necessarily grosser than the rest of them, but he certainly subscribes to the teenage boy brand of hygiene that dictates that he only really has to shower when Eddie finally shoves him away with a you smell like a sweaty nutsack. Of course then Richie inches closer and it's all how would you know, huh? and Eddie has to be like because I have nuts too, dipshit, and if you never wash them you'll—

And then all his warnings about bacteria and fungal infections are drowned out in the your mom and my wang and vague, half-heard rumors Richie repeats about people from school that Eddie knows aren't true, and he's pretty sure Richie doesn't even believe himself. Fuck him and his terrible, nasty-ass jokes.

Some days he thinks Richie purposely doesn't shower specifically so that he can torment Eddie with his unbearable boy stank. Or how he'll like, step in dog shit and just sort of shrug and wipe the sole of his shoe in the grass and then keep going with whatever he was doing like he's not literally tracking shit everywhere. If Eddie were to step in dog shit—which he wouldn't because he watches where he's going like a sane person—it would bring his entire day to a screeching halt. He gets that he's in the minority when it comes to these kinds of things, but he doesn't get why.

And then Richie has the audacity to suggest that Eddie's just as bad as the rest of them—when he says things like you’re convinced your shit doesn't stink, or it’s the smell of your own breath wafting back in your face—like he thinks Eddie is kind of gross too. Which shouldn't bother him, but it does. Somewhere very, very deep down in his gut he has a nagging suspicion as to why that might possibly be, but he's hell-bent on ignoring it at least until the inevitable destruction of the planet Earth, if not even longer. And that’s going like...pretty well for him. Reasonably well. Maybe a little less well than it used to be, but he's almost fourteen now and he thinks he should probably have a solid handle on the whole thing within the next couple of years.

But even if Richie wasn't either of those things—annoying, disgusting—there's nothing really exceptional that he is. It's not like he's a genius; the gigantic, goofy glasses make him look smarter than he actually is, and he gives as few shits about school as he does about anything else. Eddie is sure that Mrs. Tozier has never been to a parent-teacher conference where she didn’t hear the phrase if he only applied himself, and he’s equally sure that every one of the teachers who said it knew that they were wasting their breath. If Mrs. Tozier—or anyone else—stood even the slightest chance of motivating Richie to care about pre-algebra, there would have been upward mobility in his GPA long before now. Eddie has to assume he does at least some homework—if for no other reason than because he hasn’t been held back yet—but as far as he can tell, Richie bent over a textbook at home is a sight as yet unwitnessed by mankind.

Richie’s not athletic either—by any definition of the word—at least not until they decide to make Competitive Talking an Olympic sport. He’s really good on his bike, but that’s a skill he developed out of practicality because the alternative is being stuck walking all over Derry, and it’s not like being able to ride a bike is something to brag about because even Eddie can do that. But Richie’s not a fast runner. He can’t do a push-up unless it’s the kind that only count as push-ups when girls do them, knees on the ground. He can’t even throw a spitball into a trash can from three feet away (his performance in the Rock War against Bowers and his goons was a crazy, adrenaline-fueled exception)—and like, okay, the bad aim can probably be chalked up to his horrendous eyesight, but even beyond that there’s this general, overall lack of coordination. Eddie has what amounts to a universal pass that effectively excuses him from participating in PE for his entire school career, so he’s never been physically present for what goes down on the yard, but he can pretty much piece it together from the scrapes and bruises all over Richie’s arms and legs. It doesn’t matter what unit they’re on—dodgeball, baseball, soccer, tetherball—Richie plays only one position: target.

He doesn’t fare any better in the kind of extracurriculars that teachers and parents care about, like music. Richie is an aggressively bad singer—a fact Eddie is forcibly reminded of every time anyone has a birthday because Richie always makes a point of sandwiching Eddie between himself and someone who won’t run away (usually the birthday kid’s mom) while he belts out an eardrum-shattering rendition of Happy Birthday at the top of his lungs. Richie seems to interpret birthday party invitations as personal challenges for him to sing louder and worse, challenges he has so far risen to spectacularly on every occasion. The song gets longer each time too, because he never forgets to include Frankenstein on channel nine and the big fat lady on channel eighty and whatever new, ruder verses he’s scrounged up out of nowhere between the last birthday party and this one. Richie’s singing is actually one of the most obnoxious things about him, in Eddie’s opinion, which is really saying something.

He is so unrestrainedly, deliberately awful that Eddie could honestly imagine some idiot adult who doesn’t know Richie listening to him screech the chorus of Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go over and over in Eddie’s ear (the newest sabotage tactic he’s been deploying at the arcade to try to make Eddie lose at Street Fighter) and thinking wow, maybe that kid actually has a beautiful singing voice but doesn’t want anyone to know because he’s worried people will make fun of him. They would be wrong, of course, because even when he’s not actively trying to suck, Richie can’t sing for shit. Eddie doesn’t have to know anything about music to be able to tell that Richie’s real singing voice—the one he almost never uses—is flat and off-key. And forget about instruments because whenever someone makes the mistake of letting him get his hands on one, he immediately tries to shove it down his pants—or worse, Eddie’s pants—and pretend it’s a wang.

There’s art—and Eddie has noticed that being a really good artist can absolve someone of the sin of sucking at everything else. Bill, for example, is talented enough with watercolor pencils that if he drew people’s attention to his sketches, he could probably get away with not knowing how to write a half-decent thesis statement or multiply fractions (even though Bill does know how to do those things) because people would just affix the tortured artist label to him and stop giving him shit about the stutter. And Richie actually draws a lot—probably as much as Bill if it’s purely a question of quantity over quality—it’s just that the only things he seems to be interested in drawing are dicks, and the places he chooses to draw them are all technically the property of the Derry Public School District. Also, his fine motor skills are at least as bad as his gross ones, because his handwriting looks the way his singing voice sounds, and the dicks he draws make Eddie question if Richie has ever even looked in his own pants before.

And yet, despite all of the incontrovertible evidence that Richie is actually a walking disaster, there are other times that Eddie can't believe it’s not Richie to everyone else. Or even like anyone else.

It could be argued that it’s almost inevitable due to the sheer volume of jokes he tells, but every so often Richie will get one absolutely, unassailably right. His timing, his word choice—the heavens open, the planets align, and suddenly everybody around him is laughing so hard they can't breathe, Eddie included. His eyes usually end up watering when it happens, but he squints through them to look at Richie because in those moments, Richie glows like nothing else. He tries to act like it isn’t a big deal that everyone is pissing themselves from whateverthefuck he just blurted out of his incessantly flapping mouth hole, but Eddie can tell how thrilled he is when people actually find him funny. It's happening more and more often nowadays, enough so that Eddie sometimes wonders if maybe Richie is wasting his time at school after all. And who needs sports or music or art anyway?

And he could be a whole lot worse about Eddie’s germ thing if he wanted to be, like how some people give him hell about the pills and the inhaler and the hand washing. Richie doesn’t have detergent hands but he sure as shit will mouth off to anybody who gives Eddie a hard time about his. He can’t say Richie doesn’t at least try to look out for him, in his own weird way. Or Bill, or Stan, or Mike, or any of them. It causes more trouble than it’s worth more often than not, especially because Richie doesn’t have any discernable muscle with which to back up his shit-talking, so it probably would honestly be better if he would just like...not. But Eddie can’t really help appreciating it all the same.

But the hardest thing to ignore about Richie—and Eddie wouldn’t admit this to anyone, even under threat of death by clown—is that his memories of what Richie did for him over the summer have become a kind of personal, private shield against fear. They all try to avoid thinking about It as much as they reasonably can (which isn’t much; it’s not like you just go and forget about the time you and all your friends climbed down a haunted well so you could almost get eaten by a demon clown in the sewers), but Eddie’s positive he isn’t the only one who lies awake at night when the sound of his own pounding heartbeat is making him too nauseous to sleep.

The lights are off because it’s almost worse when they’re on. Maybe if he can’t see It coming, it’ll just eat him real fast and get it over with before he even knows what hit him. Still, he doesn’t want to die—instantly is preferable to slowly, but even better is not at all. So he’s developed a set of dozens of little rules for himself to follow—like no turning over, no breathing too deeply, no limbs outside the covers, no long, slow blinks (quick ones are okay; otherwise it’s eyes all the way closed or all the way open). Realistically he knows that not a single one of these rules means jack shit to anyone outside his own brain, but somehow no-ing himself into what amounts to a vegetative state eventually bores him to sleep. Okay, usually it does. More like occasionally. Actually it’s only worked like twice, but whatever. He’ll take what he can get at this point.

Sometimes Eddie thinks he has it worse than anyone else. Well, maybe not worse than Bill. But the rest of them—he isn’t sure if any of them can really understand exactly how fucking useless he felt down in that god-forsaken lair with his arm in a cast. Bill and Beverly were awesome, Mike was like a goddamn soldier, Stan was great after he’d finished crying and even Ben, who Eddie basically thinks of as the most inoffensive kid on the planet, was tough as balls. And Eddie felt like a worthless piece of shit. He hates his arm for being broken, and he hates his nightmares for always including the broken arm. It’s coming at him—just him—and his arm is hanging limply and there’s not a goddamn thing he can do—

And that’s where Richie comes in. Only when he thinks about Richie bitching Bill out for getting them all into this shit situation while inching toward the mountain of broken toys, Richie grabbing a baseball bat and saying now I’m going to have to kill this fucking clown...only then does the terror that surrounds him all through the night start to ease up.

And then he thinks a little further back about when he fell through the floor and broke his arm in the first place, about how all his friends were crowding him and freaking the fuck out, and Richie just looked at his arm and said he was going to set the break and snapped his bone back into place while Eddie shrieked at him to do not fucking touch me. Just like, grabbed his arm where it was dangling the wrong way and fucking did it.

Sometimes… Sometimes Eddie is positive that if It were to show up in his house on any given night, Richie would immediately come crashing through his bedroom window, swinging a baseball bat. Because somehow Richie would know if It returned, would know It was coming for Eddie, would show up in time. He’d show up and keep his shit together while Eddie couldn’t. He’d probably sometimes miss with the bat, but Eddie kind of suspects that it wouldn’t matter. Richie would stand between Eddie and It and just sort of suck all the scary out of the room with his endless, pointless trash-talking. And when Eddie thinks about it that way, it’s like you know what? Screw John McClane; Richie Tozier is Eddie’s hero.

And then Richie sticks his sweaty armpit in Eddie’s face and goddamn it Eddie can’t believe it’s Richie.

[peakyblinders-au]

Eleonora Changretta

Tumblr Url & Your Real Name: babyblinder.tumblr.com - Tash

Character Full Name: Eleonora Audrey-Cecile Changretta

Nicknames/Alias: Ele, Eli, Rory

Backstory for nicknames/alias/names: All her family and friends call her Ele\Eli quite a girly name, but her dad calls her Rory, a more boyish name, because he always wanted a boy

Gender: Female; she\ her

Gender Role: Ele was raised both as a lady and a killer. She knows her guns, her traps, her escapes, how to negotiate, how to win in almost any situation. Her dad taught her how to shoot and where to stab to make sure she knew how to defend herself if she ever needed to, mostly because of the family name. Also, as I said Luca really wanted a boy, so he pretty much treated self-defense training as a hobby. Her mum taught her to play piano, sew clothes and bake.

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Age: 22, looks 18

Birthday: 11th June (idk the year I can’t count L)

Birthplace: London, England

Ethnicity: Mixed – Sicilian by father and Creole by mother

Family Members: Luca Changretta (father), Vincente and Audrey Changretta (grandparents), Angel Changretta (uncle)

Children: None

Face shape: Visible cheekbones

Eye colour: green eyes on the outside, brown on the inside

Hair colour: dark brown, almost black

Hairstyle: She’s mixed, so curly, shoulder length hair.

Skin tone: Light brown

Height: 5’5

Weight: 133 lbs (60kg)

Breast size: 36DD

Scars/Birthmarks/Prominent Features: a scar on her right elbow that she got when she fell from her horse.    

Preferred hand: Rightie to do anything (eat, grab things, open doors, write), but she learnt to shoot and sign her name with both hands

Health: no issues

Phobias:  falling in love, heights

Addictions: Wine, rosé or red. That’s her shit.  She loves a good party\event\wedding and maybe addicted is not the word, but she will never turn down an occasion to drink.

Attitude: A rebel in everything she does. She’s the flirtiest, she loves making all the men wish, but everything is always in the basis of a joke or strictly physical\sexual attraction. When it comes to feelings, she’s the ice queen and claims to have none, Michael is the only one that stirs up something inside of her. She makes everyone believe she doesn’t care about anything and always just does what she wants??? She gives 0 fucks. Her attitude only and exclusively changes towards kids, she loves them and cares for them sooo deeply.

Expressions: She’s Italian come on, she talks with her hands and face. She throws her hands in the air when something goes wrong, she extends her arm and points at people with her palm and pretty much any typical Italian gesture, SHE DOES IT. She shrugs to everything, as to say ‘what you gonna do about it?’.

Residence: She lives in London with her mum, though she often goes to America to see her father and his side of the family. She went to surprise her dad in Birmingham when she found out he came to the UK and didn’t tell her, just to realise he was here for business. When in Small Heath, she stays at her grandmother and grandfather’s place.

Political Affiliation: She has little to no interest in politics

Friends: She’s so damn friendly, she will be friends with the old lady down the road and the 7 year olds playing in the fields. She can befriend anyone in the AU. I feel like Polly would love her rebel, adventurous nature and she’s probably the one that gets Ada in trouble by dragging her out all the time. She knows Lizzie liked her uncle Angel and was prohibited to see him because of gang rivalry, so she confesses her feelings for Michael and they bond on the fact they had\have the same issue, as the Changrettas will probably never allow Ele to be with Michael.

Enemies: OK idk if she should be enemies with the Shelbys after they beef her family and kill her father, or if she actually wanted them to kill him??? So I’ll leave that up to you; though I’d love her to have a hate\love relationship with them and especially Michael, where she likes him for all the wrong reasons.

Boss: Though he never involved her in any gang activities, her father is her boss; anything she does, wants to do or dreams of has to be run and approved by him. Or at least that’s what she makes him think. If she was ever to do any ‘jobs’ she would definitely be loyal and work for her family.

Pets: None in London, she has a black horse called Cenere in Birmingham that lives at her grandparents’.

Finances: Upper class gang-rich but has to hide it, or at least not flaunt it

Marital Status: Single

Sex Life: I’m very comfortable with her being subject to smut, and so is she (we ask, cos consent is everything). She has only ever slept with her ex, but she’s trynna get MICHAEL

Lovers: She’s had a boyfriend in London, an Italian boy her dad set her up with, but he was never really her thing. She’s a flirt alert: does it with anyone and everyone for the (her own) fun and amusement, but would never just sleep around. Michael caught her eye and she’s trying to show him that when she flirts with him it’s something real.

Turn-ons: A dom man. DIRTY TALK and MOANING and just being LOUD AF. Loves it when other people hear it and even acknowledge it (she used to be loud just to piss her dad off, but she found out she actually loves it).

Winking: they’re such small signs that say so much. Being physical, e.g. tickles, poking, slaps, hugs, grabbing, squeezes, anything involving him touching her and vice versa in public (and not). Big rough hands, broad shoulders and chest, muscly arms.

Turn-offs: Any sort of mushy smushy cutie pie things like bringing flowers (buy her diamonds instead) and slow, sweet love making

Dom or Sub: Sub but knows what she wants, and can potentially become dom. She grew up being spoiled af, everything always provided, always a receiver, so she expects the guy to give it to her. But when she feels like it, she can easily become dom, just to remind him who’s the boss.

Fantasies: Anything her with Michael would be great. Maybe she fucks Tommy to make Michael jealous\piss him off??? She never has sex at random but she likes Mikey so much that she even goes to those lengths to make him realise he likes her.

Occupation: A trained gang leader that doesn’t lead a gang. If she doesn’t get a fixed place in the family business, she’d like to be a painter.

Income: All from her father and family. She often has to hide her wealth: Luca doesn’t want anyone to know (tbh almost all the Italians in London know who she is, cos duh they’re Italian) that she’s his daughter as it might bring dangers and honestly, discrimination.

Work Experience: Luca refuses to let her take part in the family business, however she secretly followed him countless times when he went to ‘get jobs done’ and learnt a lot by watching him. She volunteers to teach kids how to write and reads stories at an orphanage in London. When in Birmingham she teaches the kids at Tommy’s Institute painting techniques and literature (this could be after all the beef with her fam and the pbs is done).

Religion: She believes in a God. She doesn’t even come close to religious, but her family taught her that there is a God of creation out there and someone to look to, if she ever needs it, though they rely more on Saints.

Criminal Record: Her dad said no

Morals: She breaks the rules and does whatever her dad tells her not to, what can ya do? She would only do illegal things for family, loyalty and vengeance. I kinda want her to learn to forgive, unlike her family???

Main Goal: She went to Birmingham to surprise her dad, but after learning his business with the Peakys she begs him to let her get involved, to which he finally agrees. He puts her charm to use by making her a ‘bait’ to get information and distract the boys. After she meets Michael she questions her role and involvement in the job

Ambitions: She wants her paintings to be displayed in an art gallery one day, as painting is the one thing that no one taught her or gave to her, it is something she found and cultivated herself.

Regrets: Na, she ain’t got time.

Secrets: Ofc all the times she rebelled against her dad’s disapproval of something and did it anyway, and the times she secretly followed him while he was doing business.

Ah yes, she shot one man in her life… who is it??? idk is it Luca??? no?? yes??

Best memories: Travelling to the US to see her dad and her cousins. 

Worst memories: Being discriminated against for being mixed\of colour. Feeling lonely at times, because most of the Italian kids knew who her father was and didn’t want to be her friend.

Hobbies: drinking, breaking rules, painting, teaching kids

Skills: Painting, shooting with either hand, sewing clothes, making men want her

Likes: attention, being in company, children, partying, pissing her dad off

Dislikes: being alone, showing emotions, being vulnerable and not in control of a situation

Superstitions: She doesn’t believe in the ones that say ‘bad luck if’ but she believes all of the ones that promise good luck

Guilty Pleasures: Baking, I know I said no mushy cutie pie stuff but she loves to bake

Strengths: 1) She can make anyone comfortable around her in no time 2) extremely manipulative and convincing 3) has a fearless sense of adventure 4) could charm a snake 5) has a small emotional depth, so feelings for people are never a problem, until ofc Mikey 6) hiding sensations, others can’t tell how she feels about things

Weaknesses: 1) Michael 2) isn’t always her true self, she puts on this over confident outlook she then has to keep it up 3) easily gets bored and can be very inconsistent 4) entitled when it comes to men 5) children make her melt

Languages: Fluent in Italian and English (I can totally send you Italian words and phrases)

Accent: London accent, but quite posh

Voice: Suave, like she’s constantly flirting while talking. It has a lot of tonalities (singy-songy) like Italians talk.

Reputation: Will get you in trouble, but extremely fun to be around. A rebel. Loyal.

Backstory:

Eleonora’s mum (Jeanette) and dad (Luca) met in NY and fell in love, but interracial relationships were extremely stigmatised, so when Jeanette fell pregnant, he moved her to London, where she gave birth and relocated permanently. Ele’s mother ‘works’ (not that she needs to, Luca maintains her well) for Alfie, where she passes as a single black mother to cover up her real identity as Luca’s love. Ele’s father and his family absolutely adore her, but refuse to bring her to the US permanently because of the higher dangers with Al Capone, and the discrimination she and her mum might face because of their mixed-race relationship with Luca (he might just start a killing spree otherwise).

Ele grew up being trained to kill by her dad and occasionally her grandfather; she begs to be involved in the gang, although her family refuse to let her do any work related to that.

She brings the party wherever she goes and is extremely fun to be around, but doesn’t open up to anyone but her mum about her feelings, emotions or even issues, though most of the time she just deals with it all herself. She has a very stable and happy life, so good that she hates how boring and easy it is to get things, so she rebels, completely ignores any instructions from her father and does whatever she pleases anyway. As a child, Eleonora and her mother would go to Birmingham and sneak to see her grandparents, and though people saw her here and there on the streets a few times, no one knew she was related to them. Before going to surprise her dad, she hadn’t been to Birmingham for about 7 years.

[thepensiverambler]

Ruddy Nora

The joy of volunteering in such an international environment is that there is a beautiful exchange of cultures. A ‘give and take’ situation in which we learn from each other about culture and language. Just this morning I was eating bssissa with dates, later I drank tea with a Turkish dump yard owner and this weekend I bumbled my way through a Turkish barbers. Despite these culturally enriching experiences the most prominent exchange is currently not between Turk and Brit but instead between Brit and Italian. Construction sites have a reputation for being a hive of masculinity, culminating in practical jokes, swearing and wolf whistles. If a wolf whistle was ever heard in the village the whistler would probably be thrown out 5 minutes later. Practical jokes could be played but apart from the occasional dousing with a watering can I'm yet to experience any. This leaves us with swearing. Swearing may be a stretch for the exclamatory phrase ‘Ruddy Nora’ but, to quote Polly Stenham that's “fucking semantics”. This phrase along with ‘Bloody Nora’ is perhaps my main gift to my Italian workmate. It's makes smile to myself everytime I hear from the opposite side of the kitchen the Italian accent uttering old phrase. In return I now swear solely in Italian in the workplace. When I bend a nail, hit myself with a hammer or when Massaki starts to clear all my stuff away before we’re done with work, an English voice can be heard massacring the beautiful language. When I am searching for a tool amongst the chaos that is our construction site, generally complaining or enquiring why Massaki has started to laugh unexplainably I choose to butcher Japanese instead. The combination of Japanese and Italian workmates means that I will occasionally compile sentences from our three languages. The sentences are nigh on incomprehensible to anyone but me. Nonetheless I will persist in combining the languages I have tried to learn in my life. There have been numerous ‘Ruddy Nora’ moments this week so far so here is a quick run of them. Ruddy Nora moment No.1 I am determined to become a true Arabic man and working the entirety of my time here in flip flops. This is a slight death trap however as, when building a house out of pallets, there will undoubtedly be nails lying around. I have stood on a few, some have gone through my flip flops but today is the first day that blood has been drawn. Ruddy Nora moment No.2 I woke up on Tuesday morning snoozed my alarm and that's was the last I saw of my phone. I searched every night for is thinking at first it was under clothes, then under my roll mat then at a later stage under my tent. It must have been quite the sight to have seen me in my wholly boxers climbing under my tent. My phone was nowhere to be found and was not found until 2 day later 10 feet clear of my tent. No doubt it had been carried away by ants or a group of industrious wasps. Ruddy Nora moment No.3 I received an email from Leeds University saying they wanted me to pay my £200 deposit for my accommodation. Seeing as I hadn't had a phone for the past couple of days the email came as quite a shock and to be quite frank a bit of an insult. In email communication with the university I never feel I have much choice, they prefer dictatorial style of writing which implies a significant amount power over me. Regardless, I have come into town to give the greedy bastards my money because I don't know if I can continue to sleep in a tent whilst at university. Ruddy Nora moment No.4 When I was told it was my turn to clean the bathroom. This would have been fine but I couldn't be bothered to wander round in search of a mop so instead I did the cleaning with sponge, including the floor. Again, this would have been fine had I not kept walking through the area I had just cleaned to get to the sink creating my muddy footprints. Eventually I planned my clean a bit better and got the job done (ish) only to be told at supper by Kenneth that he wouldn't clean the bathroom until I had. Flabbergasted that he hadn't noticed my efforts I was appalled and lost for words. Ruddy Nora moment No.5 My flip flop broke. It's happened to all of us and some stage. It's a sad sight seeing someone try to hop along with a broken flip flop but my workmates didn't have to see it for long. Part of the bottom of the strap had snapped of so I replaced it with a nail. There's something about the fact that whilst I avoid nails as best I can all day long I am constantly stepping on one which fixes my flip flop that makes me feel both rebellious and dangerous. Like a poacher may hang the head of his prized prey I hang a nail in my flip flop to show I have conquered it. Ruddy Nora moment No.6 If you ever see me with a fig in my hand be sure to slap it away and then slap me for my weakness. I adore figs, but they do not adore me. In a moment that harks back to a time in which I ate far too many dried apricots meaning I was stuck to the loo for a few days the same thing happens with figs. I'm considering selling it to cosmo as an extreme dieting technique. ‘Shit away 30 pounds by eating nothing but figs’ may not have the sexy appeal that other fads have but it certainly has the right effect. With every rapid need to run to the loo I mutter to myself “ohhhh Ruddy Nora”.