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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: 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: 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
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
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
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
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
The Trip That Was a Mistake: Spamano _4_ Another lit. He was getting pretty frequent at standing outside his home, lighting the long sticks of cancer, blowing smoke into the air as ashes fell slightly now and again. The air began to get chilly again, winter was still upon them that January, he could tell it would be a cold one, drearier than any other. Usually, he was warmed by the aid of someone at his side, but this year, he'd be completely alone, and he had a feeling that not even the fire's glow would warm him this year. Then, he noticed someone walking past the wall on the outskirts of the courtyard, a curl protruding from the right of her hair, such, familiar hair. Letting the cigarette drop, he crushed it there with his foot, walking out into the snow ridden grassland, toward the girl passing by.
"Oh.. god.. honestly yo- stupid..."
She turned, she wasn't really sure who she was expecting, and to be completely
Crack Fairytales - The Tomato PrinceOnce upon a time in a land far, far away from here lived a handsome prince named Antonio. Antonio was prince of the wonderful and beautiful Tomato Kingdom and the prince had a happy life there; the citizens of the kingdom loved him and they knew that he would be a great and powerful ruler.
However, there was just one problem.
When it was time for Antonio to take the throne, he would need a Queen. A King could not rule without his Queen after all.
Antonio had met with many princesses from many far away kingdoms but not one of them was what he was looking for. Time was running out for the prince and Antonio needed to find his future queen right away. The problem was, was that he didn't know where to start looking.
But he would have to start somewhere, right?
And so he did. The prince packed essentials and informed the kingdom that he would not return until he had found a suitable Queen. His family and loyal subjects wished him well and the prince set off on his long and tiring journey.
Spamano - A Thousand Paper CranesWhy I am doing this, I do not know.
Earlier, Feliciano came home and ran into my room, then he started talking about random stuff he heard from Japan.
"Ve~ Fratello! Japan told me some interesting things today!" He chirped.
"I don't want to hear it." I muttered.
He ignored my reply. "Well, he said that if you make 999 paper cranes, you can make a few wishes on the 999th one and say them aloud, and if you make another paper crane afterward, then all the wishes you made on the last one will come true!"
I sighed. "You don't honestly believe that, do you? That Asian friend of yours is definitely full of shit."
"Ve~ You should try, fratello~"
"Because it obviously won't work!"
"Japan said he tried it, and it worked~!"
"I'm still not going to try it." I muttered. "Only real idiots would believe it works."
And then he left.
Is it wrong that now, the day after, I am at the crafting store to buy some origami paper?
Yes, it is.
ViolationSummary: France is groping Spain's bodacious booty. Romano is not pleased.
Pairing: Spain/S. Italy, Spamano
It was his.
That beautiful, rounded, so-pert-it-defied-gravity ass was his.
And Francis was touching it.
No not touching. Groping.
His hand was rather full, and Antonio was obviously embarrassed and fearful; he had that special shade of red that meant Romano was about to shell out a serious ass-whooping. But Francis continued groping what belonged to him, apparently oblivious to the suddenly tense atmosphere at the dinner table. Amazing, what a few glasses of champagne could do to the man.
The other nations, however, knew exactly what was about to go down. He could see it in their awkward but eager glances among each other. Well, who was he to deny a good show?
He calmly put down his silverware, making sure to push his pasta safely out of the path of destruction. He then calmly walked over to Francis' chair, stopping behind him just as Sp
A Pirate No More: Spamano It pained me to see him stumble into the house, to see him collapse on the couch, laying a bloody sword wherever he could upon the floor, even if it were in the walk way. It pained me to hear him wince and yell and shake his head as he tried to get situated the best he could. Yet... I couldn't bring myself to say a word to him, for I was young, and I was terrified. I hated his pirating days. I absolutely loathed them, because there were many days he came home like this, but I never knew what was ailing him, because I never got close enough to ask. I was too terrified, being out on the salty sea that tickled the bottom of his ship, taunting it with its unknown ways, had changed Spain, it changed him for the worse, it made his blood thick, and dark, and he in general, had an unnaturally blackened heart.
His voice broke me from the trance I was in, the trance that filled me
17.lesson - RomanoxreaderYou sneaked up behind your friend, Lovino, when you were close enough you screamed "AAH!" Lovino jumped and looked behind him "_____! what do you think you're doing"
"scaring you, of course" you laughed and sat next to him "it's really fun" you took up a sandwich and took a bite of it "want some?" you took another sandwich up and handed it to Lovino "it's goooooood" Lovino yanked iy out of your hand and started eating it.
"someone's cranky today" you patted Lovino's back "what's bothering ya?"
"nothing" Lovino took another bite from his sandwich.
"aw, come ne, you're usually nice to all girls, even me, but not now, why?" you put your sandwich down and faced him.
"it's really nothing, now just eat your sandwich"
"Lovino" you stared at him, waiting for an answer.
"ok, ok, I'll tell you" Lovino finished his sandwich but you didn't touch your again, still waiting for the answer. "it's just that, I hate seeing you with that guy"
"ooh, someone's jealous"
"stop it _____, I mean it, I really l
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.
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More