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mezzogiorno ;;

God. He was a bit of an idiot, huh? Not a problem, considering Lorenzo was in love with one. He raised an eyebrow at him, before sighing and crossing his arms over his chest and looking at him. This wouldn’t be any fun. He was too dumb to fuck around with. So he decided to cut the shit and speak English.

“ Sei più stupido di quanto pensassi. What do you want ? A restaurant ?  There’s a nice pub down the street called El Sur. It’s got delicious tapas. You’ve got a phone and the google, don’t you ? ”     he mocked. Lorenzo was a bit of a dick, huh.

Idiot or no idiot, it would’ve been a bit more fun to see the path wherein the Italian standing in front of him would’ve continued on with his dick-wad act. No offense to both, but it could’ve been great for the thriving of the hilarity of a situation set under the blue, sunny skies of Spain. Andrik chewed on the mint nonchalantly, he didn’t mind the sudden sourness of the person he was talking to. In fact, it was a bit new, and thoroughly invigorating for his foreign faculties in play.

“ Hey, I heard that. Stupido, huh? And back there, I was hoping that was just a really long name for a restaurant. ‘Guess not. You know, It really didn’t come to mind that asking for references from the locals was frowned upon in Spain. Italy, as well? I don't know, might as well you tell me.” A subtle voice fluctuation was detected, but it was crossed off from his mental list the second it was made known. “ That’s.. when it gets really sad. Especially for tourists who, as much, would choose human interaction over any fancy-schmancy machine any day. “

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via weheartit

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mezzogiorno.

Lorenzo was far too much of an asshole to let this be a simple, easy interaction — of course, he was still going to help the poor man, but not without fucking with him first. So, feigning the most confused, helpless look he could, he pretending to not understand a lick of the ( horrible, broken ) Spanish that this man was speaking in to him — despite spending half his life here and looking like an obvious local.

“ Che? Non parlo spagnolo — ”

His back pocket was undisturbed, it came to his mind that it's a nice idea to have a mint whilst talking to people, even if he's a fan of hygiene. A tranquil scene amidst the lively bustle of the city, and it seems he brought the strawberry-flavoured ones. Not good, as it is quite frivolous to have different flavours for things that should be exclusive to the product itself. Hearing the phrase, it took him a while to process, owing to the fact that it took him mere minutes before turning his attention to the man before him. 

... “—Uh, wow. That’s either a very long name for a restaurant, or you’re one of those quirky locals that the travel guide’s been referring to. Also, that's very nice of you, but I am not Italian. Props if you thought I was one, though." Exaggerations and flashed smiles never hurt anybody, right?

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“-Maybe food for thought.” A nice stroll around Madrid, lucky enough for the weather to be of gracious benevolence to the people. This order, from the boss and where else, of ‘familiarising around more’ and interacting with other cultures seemed like divine intervention to him. Blame the woes of heaps of paperwork on his desk every day. And it’s not long before the wafting aromas of cafes and restaurants seemed to draw him to the pavement, inches of distance shrinking in he process and eventually.. he needed a recommendation from the locals. 

“-Um, excuse me, señor? Do you know of any good places to dine around here?”

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Unknow source

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renduletlenul.

@vytrvalys 

“It still amazes me,” she began, putting up a tea mug to her lips to both quench her sudden thirst and remove dryness in her throat and to steal herself a few seconds to think of what to say next. Erzsébet wasn’t particularly fond of the Slovak’s company, be it because of the guilt that bit at her conscience whenever Andrik was around, or because the quarrel was always just a few words away with the two of them. The reluctance was undoubtedly mutual, and yet he was here. “… how you claim to hate me, and still visit me in my house. I guess I will never understand you.”

“A Slovak, they say, is a mystery. Besides, you’re not the primary reason why I’m here.” A little pause to accompany a somewhat, brazen statement uttered out loud. Wouldn’t it be wonderful, he thought, if he’d stop by for some coffee and, just maybe, have a little chat about how things in the world are going and in what direction it’s actually treading? If that ever rings a bell inside their heads, good for them. Granted in place, he sat cross-legged and in opposite of her position; ensuring that he thinks he’s gracious enough to even consider consolidating respect for Erzsébet’s personal space. And, was the reluctance really that constricting?

“I’ll tell you what, just get this. Why don’t you tell your elite to mind their own damn business?” Possibly a deep-rooted, transcendental issue he’s facing; what’s to like about foreign oligarchs vying for maximum control while they can over the familiar side of things?

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mezzogiorno.

( ✉ → slovacca 🐄 )   oh? Did u figure out ur nickname finally? ( ✉ → slovacca 🐄 )   that’s not it’s only meaning

( ✉ → slovacca 🐄 )   glad that u think I am interesting. Can’t say the same for u. ( ✉ → slovacca 🐄 )   well, the fact that u own Italian glasses is interesting. and weird. Do u worship me or something

( ✉ → sud-taliansky )  well thats a shame. i swear i thought this conversation would be done minutes ago?? 

( ✉ → sud-taliansky )  yeah thanks for the nickname, i should slather it across my forehead

( ✉ → sud-taliansky )  i didn’t mean that it’s bad it’s just, people say you’re not really that approachable and warm to begin with, and it’s business if i’d believe them or not

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Men’s Look

Most popular fashion blog for Men - Men’s LookBook ®

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exsuperatus.

“Who listens to music with only one pod unless they’re sharing pods with someone else?” Apparently, the person he was on the phone with. “Creepy becomes normal after a while. You’ve been alive longer than me, haven’t you?” And no matter what you did, you couldn’t escape modern age government surveillance. Might as well get used to it. “I’d rather not discuss politics on my day off, but thank you.”

“— Hey, yes, I’m not afraid to admit I do. Sometimes when I forgot that I placed that one pod on the sink or in the freezer. I don’t think I can spend that much money on an irregular basis for things like those. Don’t tell anyone I said that—” Can you even picture what they use all that information on? “What, is that some kind of personal truth or dogma you have? Pains to say, but some things still freak me out a bit, especially with concerns about privacy..” 

See, no self-respecting person would ever talk about their problems in the dead of night. “Ah, sorry. Also— Day-off from what? I don’t know what came over me, I guess.”

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A baj mindig múló állapot, nem kell folyton keresni!

independent hungary rp blog, around since always, written by a basement gremlin

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mezzogiorno.

( ✉ → slovacca 🐄 )   uh-huh. I understand nothing of what you just said to me

( ✉ → slovacca 🐄 )   no I think I prefer sarcasm since you are so oblivious to it. It’s funny. ( ✉ → slovacca 🐄 )   like talking to a child who’s fully grown and owns italian flag glasses for some stupid reason

( ✉ → sud-taliansky )  and yet, you’re the most interesting thing to happen all day. Nice.

( ✉ → sud-taliansky )  well lol fine, at least you’re feeling somewhat light. 

( ✉ → sud-taliansky )  also fun fact. i was a shepherd, not a cow whisperer

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Somewhere in Slovakia, 1927 (Irena Blühová)

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exsuperatus.

“They lost me at airpods. You can’t find one, and ‘s all over.” Obnoxious and efficient at catching attention from those pretentious enough to buy a whole new set of airpods every time one pod disappeared. “The CIA can figure that out without Apple’s help. I wouldn’t waste time worrying about it.” His tone remained ambiguous. “I…see.” What was he expecting. “Well, stay dry. Be careful not to catch a cold.”

“For all its’ worth, I thought you can use only one pod, in case you ever lose the other one. That must be a ground-worthy idea by Apple.” Props for him on his 7-year non-participatory stance in Eurovision; more money for the rather immediate benefit of citizens on the lesser side of the spectrum, and yes— maybe a brand new set of airpods. “it’s been years, but it still sounds creepy. All those conspiracy theories- Shouldn’t get to my head, but some are a bit’ interesting.” His tone, however, was something to consider. Something like repressed apprehension. “.. You know— Uh, good luck with the U.N. thing?“ Give the busy man some rest, c’mon.

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Maybe none of us really understand what we’ve lived through, or feel we’ve had enough time…

Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go (via books-n-quotes)

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brimaquonx.

“Both are terrible.”

“The million-Euro question is— Both of what?”