|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Spamano: Valentine's DayWarning: really really strong language (this is Romano guys) and sexual references
I hate Valentine's Day.
It's just a god-awful holiday that happy people invented to make everybody else feel bad about themselves. It's just a day where all the lonely people get pounded down their throats that nobody in the world wants them. But don't think you're safe when you've actually got someone - now there's a whole crapload of expectations put on the both of you to make the day "romantic" and "special" and "perfect."
Which it won't be.
Cause it's a fucking crappy holiday.
And just when I finally had someone who might make me feel a little less miserable, stupid Antonio's idiot boss decided to send him on a fucking business trip. On fucking Valentine's Day. Right after his birthday too, so we hardly had any time to celebrate.
Not that we didn't stay up all night anyways.
The only plans I had that day were with my brother. Or should I say the disgusting, writhing mass that would be my b
Spamano: Men and BoysThey say that having a child makes men of boys.
It's actually the other way around. When a man has a child, it brings out the boy in him that hasn't been there for a long time.
I see it in Antonio. Usually he's so composed, but around her, he's completely the opposite. Instead he makes mistakes to make her laugh, and says ridiculous things to make her smile. There's a playfulness in him that I never saw before she was born. Around her, he sort of glows. Not that he didn't before. It's just that now, it's so much more obvious and permanent.
So when I happen to see them in the kitchen, and catch Antonio dropping something just so that she'll giggle and chastise him, I can't help but smile a little. He's got a handful of cherry tomatoes that he can't seem to carry properly, and they keep slipping from his fingers into her lap. Then his eyes widen at his mistake, and he apologizes as if he's just committed murder, and she pats him on the head and tells him it's okay. And he let's out
Spamano: Park"It's beautiful out, isn't it?"
Lovino had to agree. The September air had begun to transform the nearby oaks into various shades of gold and auburn, and soft breeze was tugging them back and forth, causing them to every so often emit little patches of vermillion into the autumn sky. The day was made even more beautiful by the grinning, green-eyed Spaniard sitting beside him on the park bench. Antonio had an arm resting around his shoulder, and Lovino permitted himself to rest his head ever so slightly against Antonio's. But only because he knew Antonio would be sad if he didn't. It wasn't like he enjoyed it.
"It isn't going to be for long. Winter's coming fast this year," Lovino said, looking up into the sky. Clouds were gradually collecting on the horizon.
"It is a bit chilly out " Antonio agreed. Both of them were wearing coats of medium thickness to fend off the cool gusts of wind.
Lovino scowled. He hated the cold.
As if reading his mind, Antonio leaned over and pulled
Spamano: MorningsThe early light shone through the blinds into a spacious master bedroom, making stripes of gold across a snow-colored mattress. The clock dimly read 10:21 am, but in the bright light, the digital numbers were faded, unimportant. The room had a lazy feel to it, as if the flood of buttery sunshine was actually tangible, hindering movement.
The bed held two dozing bodies. The larger one, a tanned, finely muscled Spanish man, lay curled loosely on his side, hands around the smaller man's waist. The latter had chestnut hair, and a single stray curl that rose and fell as he breathed. Every once in a while, he would roll irritably in his sleep and press himself closer into the Spaniard.
Antonio yawned, opening his eyes to the morning. He dimly thought that he must have overslept a little, but he hadn't much to do anyways. And he was so comfortable
He looked down at the man in his arms and smiled. Lovino smelled like everything he loved: the tomatoes he ate constantly, the gr
GerIta: Try AgainHoly Rome wasn't coming back.
I coughed back a gasp at the sudden thought. But it it was true, wasn't it? He'd been gone for so long. Hundreds and hundreds of years, I'd waited for him to come back to me. If he was still out there somewhere, it wouldn't have taken him that long to find me. Right?
I had to move on.
The idea terrified me. My entire life I'd spent just yearning for him; that was how I lived. Eat breakfast. Holy Rome. Go to work. Holy Rome. Crawl into bed alone, every single night Holy Rome. I didn't know how to live any other way. Was it even possible? I struggled to remember a time when he hadn't grazed my every thought.
God. Holy Rome not coming home? The thought had never even occurred to me. I looked back now on all that time I'd wasted on that beautiful boy. I'd closed myself off, hadn't I? I saw that now. I must have hurt so many people. My brother came to mind He deserved someone better than I had been, didn't he?
I deserved better, too. I couldn't l
New Year's Hetalia Style"Okay Italy You go first."
Italy and Germany sat across from each other at Germany's small kitchen table. For the first time in a long time, Germany had company on New Year's eve. Secretly, there was no one he'd rather be spending the holiday with. He was equally glad that Japan had been busy, so that there was no one else there to divert the Italian's attention.
Between them on the table was a glass of ice cold water and a bowl of molten metal. According to German tradition, you were to pour one drop of the metal into the water, and whatever shape it became was a prediction of your future. Germany hadn't done it since he was a very small child, but he wanted to do something to occupy Italy.
Italy took the bowl in gloved hands and poured a drop from it into the water. They both watched intently as the grey liquid morphed around.
"It's a boat, I think," Italy said, fascinated.
"Gut, zhat means you'll travel," Germany said, although he couldn't make out a boat in the blob Italy was
PruAus: The Timpani RollRoderich was in his happy place.
For him, there was truly no better place than standing on the podium and guiding that little baton with his fingertips. There was no better feeling than knowing that some fifty people were before him, adhering to his every command and executing them with perfection. Nothing made him feel more magical than the sound of an entire orchestra, perfectly together, perfectly in tune, perfectly following his rhythm. It made him absolutely euphoric.
The only thing that would make it better would be to have an audience. But in a week he'd have one; for now he settled for rehearsal.
His orchestra was just reaching the climax of their piece. So far it'd gone flawlessly; the part that the celli normally played out of tune had actually flowed perfectly, and the brass section was at just the right volume. It was a hard song that he'd been working with them on for weeks. Roderich was very pleased.
They'd reached the most exciting point, where the instruments got
Spamano: 10 Song Challenge MemeRules:
1. Pick a character, fandom, pairing, friendship, whatever.
2. Put your music program on shuffle/random and start playing songs.
3. For each song, write something inspired by the song related to the theme you chose earlier. You only have the song length. No pre-planning and no writing after the song is over. No skipping songs either.
4. Do 10 songs and post. Make sure to include the song name/artist.
1. I'll See You In My Dreams - Ingrid Michaelson
It was a quiet night.
Unlike most, the Spaniard and the Italian weren't necking against the wall or rolling around under the covers. Instead, they both lay draped across each other on the old green couch in Antonio's living room. Neither was asleep, but they were both close enough to it that they were nearly dozing off. Every so often Antonio spoke, trying to convey his love once more. But Lovino hushed him.
"Let's just lay together, okay?"
Antonio smiled and burrowed himself into Lovino's chest. He didn't break the silence anymore. S
ItalyxReader: Making PastaIt was summertime, and you were vacationing with your family in Venice, Italy. You were supposed to be spending time with your grandparents, who lived on a huge property in the Italian countryside. It was supposed to be great fun and all, but you knew you would probably just end up bored in your room, watching Italian dramas.
A week into the trip, you'd spent most of your time wandering around their big house, occasionally being introduced to Grandma's various friends and their grandchildren. Besides that, no one paid very much attention to you.
That afternoon, your parents and grandparents had left the house to go to a wine tasting. You were alone in the house. Again. You sighed. Another afternoon of trying to decode Italian soap operas, you thought.
But as you padded sock-footed towards the loft, you heard noises coming from the kitchen. Suddenly terrified, you stood stone-still. It sounded like pots and pans being taken out of the cupboards?
Oh gosh, you thought, not mov
Night .:Spamano:.Warning: Illegal amounts of fluff, Lovino, the abuse of marshmallows, and blanket-bashing.
Boy love, don't like don't read.
"Come on, mi Lovinito! You're shivering!"
"Vaffanculo, bastardo! Like hell I'm going to even be caught dead with that on."
Sighing, Antonio looked over at the huddled mass that was his boyfriend (even though Lovino hated the word, it never stopped Antonio from using it). Despite the fact that he had his arms pulled inside of an oversized hoodie and wrapped around himself in a vain attempt to gain warmth, he still refused what was offered to him.
"But Lovi~" Antonio whined, reaching out with a long arm to poke the shivering Italian in his side. His hand was promptly smacked away (which was a real feat, honestly, with the other's hands still hidden in the jacket). "No one can see you here! Sure, you said that you'd rather use your own vomit instead, but please! Just take it." Lovino shook his head and scowled, refusing to meet Anton
Migraines-Spamano"Sheesh, isn't that idiot awake yet?"
Lovino Vargas, personification of South Italy, sat back in his chair in his boyfriend's kitchen. It wasn't usual that Lovino woke up before that annoying Spanish bastard, so the Italian was a little curious as to why Antonio wasn't up yet.
The couple's morning usually operated as such. Antonio would wake up at an extremely early time in the morning and start working on some really elaborate breakfast that completely wasn't needed. After a few hours of working, he would then go back into their bedroom to wake Lovino with a smile, the Italian growling about how he didn't want to get up, even though he did so anyway. Once they've sat down an eaten, they would get on to what ever they had to do that day...which usually involved Antonio bothering Lovino at terrible times in the day.
It was different today since Antonio wasn't up and smiling like usual. This morning was just to...foreign.
"I better go see whats up...stupid moron." Lovino sighed irritably
Lies: Spamano OneshotLovino Vargas watched Antonio's sulky figure trudging steadily away from his house. He slammed the front door. Hard. Dammit. Why couldn't he ever be honest? Why did it always end with him insulting Antonio? Antonio had gotten really hurt this time, too.
He threw himself onto the couch, and then got up off of it, remembering the countless of times that he and Antonio had sat on it together. In fact, everything in the house reminded him of Antonio.
Lovino picked up the phone (inwardly cringing, remembering the many times that he had called Antonio on it, usually to yell at him), and called his stupid younger brother, in hopes that his childishness and wimpy rambling would make him feel better, or make him explode with even more rage. Either way, it'd get his mind off of Antonio.
"Pronto?" Feliciano Vargas answered.
"Hey, stupid little brother"
"Veh~! Oh, it's you, big brother! Listen; I'll call you back later, I'v
I like him, I love you -Spamano-"Hola Romano~!"
Looking over my shoulder, I spotted the annoying Spaniard, waving his arms about trying to catch my attention. I sighed loudly and walked over to him, my face printed with a sour look.
"Ciao Bastardo, What do you want?" I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Can't I see my little tomato without a reason?" Spain huffed, pouting his bottom lip at me. I rolled my eyes as he failed to look irritated, because his eyes still had the green, sparkle of life in it.
"Though you're right, I do have something to ask you!" Spain grinned at me, his white teeth flashing as he grabbed both of my hands.
A dark red blush flooded over my cheeks at the contact, but I didn't pull away.
Mainly because I was head over heels for the Spaniard
"Well, what is it bastard? I don't have all day" I growled, my eyebrow arching in suspicion. Spain seemed to grin wider if it was even possible, and he gave my hands a gentle squeeze.
"Remember when you were younger, and I said that I was thinkin
Spamano fluff: Powercut.It was between the hours of seven and eight p.m. The power was out.
However it was summer, so this didn't make a lot of difference. And June in Southern Spain isn't exactly famous for being a bit chilly. The sun had only just set; sky still pale behind the hills, but inky blue overhead. The perfect time of day for smiling whispers and gentle touches Antonio's favourite time of day.
As soon as the light bulbs had sputtered and died, along with the kitchen appliances, he dove into the dusty cupboard where they kept spare candles and matches, and whipped out a bottle of wine, apparently from nowhere. Lovino had rolled his eyes and muttered something about alcoholics. In five minutes flat the Spaniard had every shelf, alcove, and most of the floor covered with lazily flickering candles. He had thrown open the balcony doors to let in the dying sunlight, and the smell of the warm summer earth. He grabbed two wine glasses and threw every cushion he owned into a large pile in the centre
SpaMano Mafia - Chapter 6The very next morning, Veneziano silently walked into his twin's room. He smiled when he saw him asleep in the Spanish man's arms. The young Italian poked his older brother.
Romano sleeply rolled over to face his brother, yawning as he did. Moments later, Spain woke up smiling at Romano.
They shared a small good morning kiss and Veneziano's smile grew, if that was possible.
"Morning guys! Fratello, after yesterday I want you to stay in here and rest today."
"No 'buts', you're sore and I don't want you to put any stress on your body."
"What about all the paperwork?"
"Me and Ludwig will handle it."
"Alright, fine. At least Ludwig is helping, I don't wanna say it but he's really smart..."
"I'll be back to check on you later, Fratello!"
Veneziano cheerfully stated, kissed Romano's cheek and started to skip away saying something to Spain on his way out.
"You keep an eye on him, Spain!"
Romano wiped his cheekoff in
30 Minutes In HeavenPairing: Spamano
The meeting was not even half way through yet and Lovino wanted to die in a hole. Why, you might ask? Well, there's that insane Danish nation seated on his right- yes, the one who keeps stroking that insanely large axe of his and winking at a very mortified-looking Norwegian seated across the long table. Then on his left was the small trembling nation that lived near Russia... Latvia, was it? Then opposite him was that perverted French bastard that made strange kissy-faces at everyone and anyone he could, the potato bastard who happened to be in his field of vision and next to him was the tomato bastard.
The tomato bastard: otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, or Spain. But to Lovino, the tomato bastard was a fine enough name for him.
There he was, sitting there smiling at him at every opportunity he got. Before the meeting started the Southern Italian had worked hard to avoid the persistent Spaniard. He hid under tables and behind anyone who was standing
SpaMano - Mafia - Chapter 8 When morning came, Feliciano was in his own room ( because Ludwig carried him there) and Lovino asleep in Antonio's arms once again. The older man woke up first, watching his lover sleep a while longer. He sighed and thought about him and Lovino, that if Lovino really loved him or just liked him a lot. Antonio was almost afraid to ask him, worrying that he might hate him. Moments later, the small Italian rolled over and noticed Antonio staring at him.
"Well, buenos dias to you too."
Lovino cuddled up with the Spanish man, not wanting to move. Antonio swallowed his pride and spoke up.
"I have to ask you something. It's kinda been bothering me since last night."
"What might that be?"
"Do you...really like me?"
"Si, si. Now, think really hard about this. Do you love me?"
Lovino froze, the man's words playing over and over again in his mind. He couldn't really think what to say. Antonio got slightly worried at Lovino's silence.
Snow Day: _Spamano_"Where are we going?"
He had to trip over himself some to keep up.
"You'll see, it'll be fun..."
Romano pulled to a stop, Spain stopping along with him as his hand currently seemed to be attached to Romano's sleeve.
"Its freezing, we just ate, I want to go home okay!?"
Spain calmed himself and took steps toward Romano, releasing his grip on Romano's sleeve, whom merely stared at him in question. Once close enough to feel one another's breath un-purposely, Spain put a hand upon Romano's head, patting him repeatedly for about three turns.
Then, bending slightly so he could look Romano in the eyes, Spain casually put his mittened hands in his long-coat pockets, a smile of warmth and reassuring upon his face, though it hardly worked on Romano, whom proceeded in leaning away some.
"It'll be fun, I promise, so... please?"
His eyes were glowing in an odd way, and Romano could simply feel the excitement S
Spamano: A NameWith the birth of their first daughter came the agonizing choice: What to name her?
Antonio made lists and lists of beautiful Spanish names for Lovino to choose from, but he rejected them all. None fit her exactly right. They needed something that was magnificent enough to portray their daughter, but not so flowery that it made her sound like something served on a platter.
It wasn't until after she was born when Antonio and Lovino agreed on a name that they deemed perfect: Feliciana.
Feliciano, her god-father, said he had never been more flattered.
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More