Hetalia kink meme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hetalia_kink) wrote2012-06-03 02:47 pm
hetalia_kink) wrote2012-06-03 02:47 pm
Hetalia Kink meme part 15
axis powers
hetalia kink meme
part 15
hetalia kink meme
part 15
Ahh yeah that is the super duper delayed Christmas reveal for 2009 LOL...just found the time to finish it now...
clean wallpaper version HERE
clean wallpaper version HERE
To Be Written [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 03:15 am (UTC)(link)I finished this part a few weeks ago, just read the other update today and I was surprised to find that we both used Japan! Though in very different ways...
BTW, Feliciano was inspired by this 'Italian stereotype' in case you were wondering if he was on drugs: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fv3fkcCrn6k
---
Word count: 210,305.
Antonio glared into the light of his screen as he felt like dragging the document icon into the recycle bin and destroying it for good.
There was a time, a ‘prime’ as most would call it, that he was the best author in the romance genre. At only eighteen, Antonio Carriedo Fernandez was a writing prodigy, and his novel topped the bestseller’s chart for weeks after the release of his first novel. Celebration and praise immediately followed, and he was interviewed repeatedly, women swooned in his presence, and his editor informed him that he was to be rewarded with a big fat award. He spent weeks partying with his high school buddies, Francis and Gilbert, without a care in the world, downing Tequila shots like water in Mexico; sleeping around with beautiful women; smoking weed like breathing air.
He was young and, frankly, very restless. Antonio was attractive, smart, fit, and an eligible bachelor. He thought he was on top of the world; while in reality, it was simply sitting on him.
An entire period of twelve months passed without writing a single sentence. The years following his ascent to stardom in the world of romance novels were riddled with failures. When the fame was gone, as it always did eventually, Antonio was filled with a void. The need to succeed engulfed him and drove him to spend hours in front of his laptop; typing his days away. His fitness decreased, his appearance grew wild, and his social life was fizzled out completely. But never again did any of his novels succeed.
The media threw scandal after scandal over his breakdown, and there Antonio sat, typing away, trying to reclaim his lost glory.
An article on his desk drew in Antonio’s attention as he contemplated deleting his current piece. It was a piece of shit. Love was a piece of shit. Life was a piece of shit.
“It sucks to be reaching the peak of your fame at such a young age. It must be tough, knowing that you just started becoming famous and you’ve already reached the end of it.” The article quoted in bold red letters the words of his editor, and he felt betrayed. Anger ripped through him. He grabbed the bunch of glossed paper and scrunched it into a ball, throwing the offending object into a nearly full trash can, where it laid in peace with all of Antonio’s shredded notes of ideas and inspiration.
He got up from his desk for the first time in hours and pulled on a sweater and a pair of jeans as he decided to head outside. Sunshine beamed down on him as he sulked down the street, looking for a quick fix. Seeing a bookstore on the way to his best friends’ shared apartment, he decided to check it out. It was the first time he had been inside a bookstore, and he felt slightly claustrophobic.
Writers were not supposed to read other’s works, in fear they would steal ideas unconscientiously and lose their own creativity. Well, that was Antonio told himself, but the truth was perhaps more so that he was simply afraid to see another person’s novel receiving more glory than his own.
A cigarette stuck between his teeth, he opened the door to the bookstore, which seemed family run, unlike the many chain stores that sold novels across the nation. Chimes notified the owner of his presence and a slap in the face woke him from the imaginary life he had lived in during the months he spent working in isolation.
“Ve~! Timmy, please don’t smoke inside! Do you see the no smoking sign? Though if you’re Italian too, I can let you, okay Jimmy? You can smoke allllllllll you want! Just don’t tell the nice police man that, Sandy, or he’ll call me racist. You want some coffee Sammy, my boy? I know you like coffee! Everyone likes coffee! Unless you’re a non-believer, than you must be shunned. Shun! Shun! Shun!” A smiling, cheerful looking man in his twenties exclaimed joyfully as he cornered Antonio by the door.
To Be Written [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 03:16 am (UTC)(link)“Ahhhhhh!” A quick yank of hair was all that was needed to make the strange Italian man slink away in horror as he was replaced by a slightly taller man that looked quite similar in appearance.
“Ignore my stupid little brother. He is weird and scares away the customers. Please come inside and I will give you free coffee for every book you buy, you like coffee, yeah?”
Antonio shook his head again, somehow it felt like déjà vu, even though the voice speaking this time was very deep, much deeper than he had expected from the lithe looking young man. The older brother sighed as Antonio stared at him dumbstruck.
“Please, if you find me attractive, leave me your phone number after you pay for your bill, yeah? Now go buy some books so papa won’t be angry about our poor sales today,” the darker hair brother said as he waved Antonio into the depths of his store, giving him a vile looking smile as though he was a predator that wouldn’t let him out until he bought something. The younger brother’s cheerful demeanour returned as he returned to his post by the door, guarding it in case Antonio decided to leave without spending a penny.
Antonio heaved out a great sigh of frustration as his journey to Gilbert and Francis’ place was greatly delayed and he searched around the aisles to quickly buy something and leave. Piles of books were shoved aside as he tried to find a decent novel in the romance section to buy for his friends, perhaps one with lots of detailed sex scenes to appease their promiscuous minds. Flashes of crimson caught the corner of his eyes and he reached for the thick volume apprehensively, blowing away the dust from the top.
The Crimson Lottery, his first book.
Hollow steps approached him from behind, and he turned to face his onlooker.
“That book may have won awards, but it was awful. A real pain to read. The author must have been a German, he knows nothing about romance!” the older brother remarked bitterly, glaring at the novel in his hand. Before he knew it, the copy was removed from his hand and it was being waved in the air in the direction of the door.
“Brother, stupid brother, over here! You agree don’t you? This book is awful, yeah?”
“Ve~! That book has sex scenes written out of a science textbook! The author must simply be not as experienced as us! Terrible writer, but I heard the author is very handsome!” Younger Italian replied, grinning from ear to ear.
“Ugh! Tell me about it! The ladies are all over this guy! I heard Uncle Alberto’s second cousin’s niece’s half sister slept with him,” Older Italian dramatically put the back of his hand on his forehead as faked a swoon, “’oh he’s so handsome! He has such nice abs!’ stupid girls.”
The other giggled, cupping his mouth with both of his hands, “oh! Poor, poor Lovino! So unlucky with love! How many times have you been rejected this year, brother? Eleven? Twelve?”
“Don’t talk about it, bastard! Don’t announce my love life to the public!”
“But you already did it yourself, ve~!”
Antonio watched the whole scene with quiet fascination. In a time span of several minutes, he learned that these two bookstore owners hated his work, older brother was rather unlucky with love, and they were experienced in bed. Antonio never did guys before, but he had to admit that the two brothers were rather cute, though absurdly strange.
A knock in the door behind the younger brother halted their argument, and the door was let open to allow a meek looking Asian man into the store.
“Good morning Lovino-kun, Feliciano-chan. How is business today?” the Asian man asked as he manoeuvred a large cardboard box into the bookstore.
“Hello, Kenny! I see you got new books for us today?”
“Yes, though my name is Kiku, not Kenny.”
“Kevin, please put them by the counter, ve~!”
To Be Written [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 03:19 am (UTC)(link)“Ah, are you a customer?” the man named Kiku asked the author. Antonio nodded and Kiku looked slightly worried as he refused to meet his eyes.
“Then...you may want to buy something, or these brothers won’t let you leave tonight...”
“He was just about to, Kiku! But I was stopping him from buying this disaster of a novel!” the older brother, who was supposedly named Lovino, responded, shoving the book in the shorter Asian man’s face.
“How horrible! A man who wrote this must be such a terrible lover! Give him to me and I’ll teach him!”
That phrase shook Antonio from his absentminded thoughts. Okay, so maybe the guy didn’t like his writing, but that did not mean that he was a bad lover! He was very good, thank you very much!
“Isn’t that too much to say?! He’s probably a magnificent tiger of manly sexiness!” Antonio suddenly shouted, setting three sets of blank looking eyes staring at him. It took him a moment to realize that he sounded just as ridiculous as the two brothers.
Kiku turned scarlet from cheeks to ears as he felt greatly disturbed to be talking about sex so casually in public and hurried to excuse himself as he left the little shop. Antonio turned back to Lovino,
“But...but specifically, why don’t you like The Crimson Lottery? I’ve read it before and I think it’s very good.” Antonio said eyeing the novel he worked so hard on.
“Why don’t I like it? Because it’s unrealistic! Romance doesn’t work like that! It’s like that Oscar guy said, ‘when one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what world calls a romance.’”
Antonio frowned and shook his head in disagreement, “Romance isn't about deceit! Romance is about love, and the human need to be wanted, to find someone who is ‘special’ only to you!”
“You live in the eighteenth century. Anyways, I highly suggest you buy something else. I suggest this one, if you like romance novels,” Lovino said as he picked up a novel from the front shelf, “it’s called, A Day of Danger, by Arthur Kirkland. It’s very popular. The prostitute woman betrays the hero and stabs him to death in bed.”
Antonio glared at the book’s cover. So this was the man who took away his fame, money, and glory, this Arthur Kirkland fellow!
“Don’t gawk, buy already!” he sighed as took his position by the cash register. Feliciano continued to block the exit.
Deciding to at least try to find out about the enemy, Antonio went to the front counter and bought the book, pocket feeling lighter after spending over thirty dollars on the hardcover version, which Lovino insisted he needed.
“Please sign the bill,” Lovino remarked, sharing a sideway glance with Antonio as he passed him the receipt.
“Huh? I don’t have to sign when I pay with cash, do I?” Antonio asked suspiciously. The Italian man coughed into his fist, looking away as a blush covered his cheeks.
“Your number. You said you would give it to me earlier?”
Antonio wasn’t sure he promised any such thing, but he had feeling he wouldn’t be able to leave the store without doing so, and scribbled a chain of numbers onto the slip of paper.
“Errrr...I’ll be going now...” he said as started moving towards the doorway.
“Don’t you want coffee?! It’s-it’s not spiked! I give free coffee to everyone who buys a book, remember?!” a voice called after him, but it was too late. Antonio had already forced his way out of the store and promised himself never to return. No matter how many times the gay Italian phoned him, it wouldn’t work, because he had long since memorized the number for the rejection hotline.
He turned a corner towards his destination when he saw a garbage bin sitting by the sidewalk. Seeing no one else around, he chucked the book. It was then that he had an epiphany. He didn’t care if the bookselling brothers were weirdoes and that he older one liked his ass; he would prove him wrong about romance! And he would prove to the world that Antonio Carriedo Fernandez was still the best romance author on the market!
Re: To Be Written [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 04:00 am (UTC)(link)Interesting role reversal too, without being too far OOC. After all, canon is stereotypes ;)
Re: To Be Written [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 04:15 am (UTC)(link)And Spain. What a waste of a perfectly good book! D:
Re: To Be Written [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 08:05 am (UTC)(link)Re: To Be Written [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 02:52 pm (UTC)(link)The Italies were so Italian. I wish more people wrote them like this, they were still IC, BUT THEY WERE THE ITALIAN WOMANIZING, LOUD, ROMANTIC, USING-MANY-HAND-GESTURES, CHAOTIC ITALIAN MEN THAT NO ONE EVER MAKES THEM.
Which on the contrary they are.
Marry me? Please? Love this fic more than I should, oh, and Antonio was written nicely as well! As someone above me said before "this compliments the other fill" well, they're not lying.
I'm Italian, so seeing the brothers act the way that they really are meant to act brings tears to my overly dramatic Italian eyes.
random anon
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 03:01 pm (UTC)(link)Re: random anon
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 03:55 pm (UTC)(link)Re: To Be Written [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 08:39 pm (UTC)(link)Re: To Be Written [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 08:41 pm (UTC)(link)Re: To Be Written [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 08:59 pm (UTC)(link)Author!anon
(Anonymous) 2011-01-24 03:08 am (UTC)(link)My headcanon says this story happens in Canada, because I know too little about America to use that setting, since I've never been there before. (yes, I'm Canadian and never been to America, yet has been to Europe and Asia, wtf?) I actually based the brothers on two of my Canadian-Italian friends, who are pretty normal except they are very energetic, friendly and slightly eccentric at times. Please don't be offended by their characterizations. ^^;
Re: Author!anon
(Anonymous) 2011-01-24 03:16 am (UTC)(link)But seriously? My impressions of my travels in Canada was a child were always, "Wait, isn't this just like America, only with better weather and more French?
And with nicer, slightly quieter people?"Op here~
(Anonymous) 2011-01-23 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)The Italies made me laugh xD I don't even care if it's a stereotype or not, I just like the way they act in this. They're really cute.
I especially liked Lovi's "casual" asking for Antonio's number xD Aaaaand the fact that Arthur stole Antonio's fame with a novel like this xD The summary made me laugh so hard!
I'm already looking forward to the next upload ♥
btw, I'm a bit confused over the word count. 210'205 words... wouldn't that be like, novel-lenght? O.O
author!anon
(Anonymous) 2011-01-24 02:46 am (UTC)(link)Re: author!anon
(Anonymous) 2011-01-29 10:01 pm (UTC)(link)To Be Written [4/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-03-01 07:02 pm (UTC)(link)Sorry this update came so late, I hope OP is still there. =)
---
Antonio was convinced that it was a stupid idea. Stupid ideas, as per his editor’s advice, were to be avoided at all costs, because they made stupid stories. And after a stupid story goes through the printing press, it becomes a stupid book. Just like his last three manuscripts.
But if Antonio was going to write the ‘Lovino’ man as the main character of his next novel, he was going to need research. Thus, with a notepad and pen in his fanny pack (they were very cool, thank you very much) he went back to the store bravely. He was like Dante, descending the steps into hell. Only there were no circles. Good, because Antonio couldn’t draw circles that were actually circular.
The chime sounded off, and Antonio found himself in the dim lighting of the little bookstore. With whirlwind speed, his exit was immediately blocked off by the smiling Italian brother, happily munching on a slice of pizza and swallowing, no, slurping it down like pasta. It was disturbing, and Antonio was convinced that he was going to choke and die. Then he would get blamed for killing Feliciano and he would go to jail. After he got out, he would probably write a stupid book titled ‘Crime and Penalties’ or something.
Antonio spun around and smiled nervously. “Ah, hello Feliciano! You look good today!” So far. Probably will end up ugly after he becomes a corpse.
To his relief, Feliciano swallowed the last of his pizza without choking and smiled back.
“Ve, ve, ve~! Hello Tommy! I’m so glad you came in today. Look! Guess what? We got more books in this morning that we will probably never sell! Isn’t that great? Because since you’re our first customer of the day, that means you get first dibs and can buy them all!”
Antonio furrowed his brows. Wasn’t it five in the evening? Was business really that bad? However, before he could ask, Feliciano grabbed his arm and began to drag him deeper into the store.
“F-feliciano?!” Antonio gaped as he was forced into the vicinity of a large, cluttered, and disorganized pile of books. The pile was full of different classic titles, “The Great Gatsby,” “Pride and Prejudice,” Antonio even spotted a copy of “Crime and Punishment,” the novel that he would have to rip off when Feliciano died from choking on pizza.
“Ve, you know my name!” Feliciano pointed a finger at the pile. “Isn’t this great? Don’t you love classic novels?”
“Um. No,” Antonio answered, thinking that honesty was probably the best course for the moment. It might save his wallet from holes. Financial holes.
“Ve, I don’t like them either. I prefer romantic erotica myself!”
“Aren’t those written for women?”
“Ve?”
“Nevermind,” Antonio didn’t really have any say in objections. He was a guy who wrote romance novels for a living after all.
“Well,” Feliciano continued to smile at Antonio. “You seem like a sophisticated guy with your ponytail! I’m sure you’ll like these classics anyways!”
Antonio rubbed the back of his head, hands trailing down to touch the rough ponytail that gave his mingled mess of hair shape. In his despair over his ruined reputation, he had neglected his hair and let it grow obscenely long.
“Here!” Feliciano chirped and threw a book at Antonio. It was followed by another. And another. And yet another one. He was pelted by a barrage of novels and a particularly heavy version of Les Misérables aimed at his head almost knocked him unconscious.
Antonio cried out in agony. However, the assault was only stopped by a booming voice behind him.
“Damn it! What the fuck are you doing Feliciano?! Don’t hit the customers! What did Papa say about throwing things?! Remember what happened to little Pete down the road when he threw a mousetrap at his brother? Remember big Pete's face, Feliciano? Remember his face?!” The other brother, Lovino, stormed into the little shop with a can of coffee beans and a pen tucked behind his ear. Upon seeing the face of the customer, his eyes widened and he seemed to grow even more furious. The can dropped on the floor with a loud clunk, a corner was dented by the impact.
To Be Written [5/?]
(Anonymous) 2011-03-01 07:06 pm (UTC)(link)“Ah! S-stop!”
“Go away bastard! How dare you show your stupid face after rejecting me, huh?!”
“I-I’m sorry!”
“Liar!”
“I’m not lying! I was just-”
Lovino raised his free hand in the air, and shook his fist violently at Antonio. “I don’t want to hear it! You don’t know what you’re missing out on, bastard!”
“Please stop beating me!”
“Not until you die a horrible, miserable death for attempting to reject me in such a stupid way! Just you wait bastard, because I’m gonna call all my buds here to see ya, and then we’ll see who’s laughing when we finish with you!”
Antonio covered his head with his arms as Lovino continued his attack. Straw contacted his flesh and his body recoiled with each hit.
“AH! Don’t kill him Lovino! He was going to buy all the classics! Papa won’t be as mad if he does!”
The broomstick stopped in midair. “You are?” Lovino’s eyes glanced back at the haggard and very dusty man. Antonio looked back and groaned as his stomach was poked by the wooden end of the broom.
“Ve~! Bobby has looottttssss of money! Isn’t that right, Timmy?”
“He does?!”
“I do?!” Antonio protested weakly, his face scratched by the itchy straw.
“And you don’t have to kill him for being an ungracious flirt, because claims he is in love with you, brother!”
“He is?!”
“I am?!” This was so not looking good for Antonio. How did these two crazy brothers get him caught up in so much trouble?
Lovino’s mouth gaped open as he stared at Antonio. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes and he quickly turned away to wipe them off, sniffing softly. “Y-you…like me?”
Antonio was sincerely surprised that his insane attacker had emotions other than anger. It was even kind of cute, tearing up at such a small thing. Even though he was a grown man.
Antonio prayed to god he didn’t still live at home.
Blushing, Lovino refused to meet his eyes and stumbled to pick up the can of coffee beans. He moved around his brother and Antonio to the cash register, keeping as far as the constraints of the room let him. He almost tripped over a novel on his way.
With tense shoulders, he opened the can and dumped it into the espresso machine on the counter, quietly making himself coffee. Strange, Antonio thought, how shy Lovino suddenly became. He really was the perfect complex, round, and dynamic character!
Looking closer at the floor, Antonio suddenly realized that the forgotten novel on the ground was actually his own, The Crimson Lottery. The story he had written about love and chance. Was this foreshadowing of his own chance to regain his fame? Did God finally answer his prayers and give him the chance to redeem himself? Would Lovino’s love life be the next bestseller? Was this his only chance? Was he asking too many questions with no definite answers and overanalysing his life because he spend too many hours with the local English prof?
“Lovino,” Antonio approached the counter. He gently picked up Romano’s fingers and entwined them, like the roots of a great maple tree. That had maple sap. Maple sap that represented liquid love when boiled in flames of passion and condensed into sweetness.
“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,” Thank goodness that along with the number of the rejection hotline, Antonio also memorized the most famous quotes of the romance genre.
Lovino’s cheek glowed even more and he looked away, hands sweaty. “You are so-”
“Romantic? Sweet? Dashing?” Antonio smiled, brilliant white teeth shining. He knew that it was hopeless for another to resist his charms! Even the creepy Italian bookstore cashier kind, the kind that attacked customers with broomsticks and had matchmaking younger brothers.
“Cheesy!” Lovino threw both arms in the air. Espresso poured into his cup from the machine.
“Oh.”
To Be Written [6/?] + Author's Note
(Anonymous) 2011-03-01 07:18 pm (UTC)(link)“Uh…”
“Ve~! Of course Tommy wants to buy them! It’s like his dowry to marry you, brother!”
“It is?”
“It is?!” Antonio wasn’t sure how his fake love confession turned into a marriage proposal so soon, and he hoped he would still have enough money after buying the pile of books to hire a divorce lawyer.
Lovino’s blush turned cherry red, reaching up to the tips of his ears as he began to punch in the total costs of the fifty or so volumes of books. Antonio’s back was aching just looking at the fabric bag that Feliciano retrieved to fill with novels.
“It comes to $760. I will be nice to you today and round down. You should be grateful, you just saved 95 cents.”
“$760?!” Antonio groaned as he took out his wallet from his fanny pack. His next novel better be worth the cost.
“Hey! At least they’re mostly paperback, yeah?”
His debit card was charged with an enthusiastic cheer from Feliciano about meeting the sales quota for the first time in five years. Antonio’s heart sank at the thought of losing so much money for the sake of research. Fate deemed that he would have to beg Francis to feed him for the next while. Thank goodness Francis was overly willing to treat Antonio to freebies.
The receipt was slipped across the counter, and a shaking finger pointed at the dotted line. “S-sign this.”
“A-okay.”
Again, he scribbled a number on the receipt. This time it was his real cell phone number.
“C-come again.”
“I will.” Unfortunately. Antonio gripped the stuffed bag with his hands and turn to leave, slightly off balance from carrying the heavy load.
“Wait!” Lovino called after him. “My name is Lovino Vargas! W-what’s your name? I don’t think you have told me before…?”
“Err…” It would do no good to reveal himself as the author of The Crimson Lottery. “What do you think my name is?”
“What?”
“Guess!”
“That’s stupid! How would I ever guess your stupid name?! Do you know how many names there are out there?”
“Come on! Guess!” Antonio smiled as Lovino held out both palms open in defeat. “I’m Spanish if that’s a hint, what do you think my name is?”
Lovino stared at him with narrowed eyes, raising one eyebrow as he cocked his head. “…Enrique…Iglesias?”
Well, he was kind of close. At least he got the Spanish part right.
“Then call me Enrique!” Hopefully, Lovino won’t think too much about it. Antonio turned to leave once more.
The cup of steaming espresso was pushed toward and a desperate voice called out, “W-want some coffee before you leave?”
“Maybe next time!” The coffee was suspiciously off-color, and Antonio didn’t want to risk diarrhea. He turned away from his potential protagonist a final time, heaved the heavy stack of books over his shoulder and made his way to the front door.
Feliciano bounced in front of him to hold out the door, face plastered with a cheerful smile accompanied by a waving hand.
“Ve~! Sorry for lying, Enrique! I was just trying to save your life!…and helping my desperate brother get laid! Even though he’s a pretty shizzy guy, his milkshake don’t really bring the boys to the yard, ya know what I mean? He makes really bad milkshakes. And pasta. And he uses too much salt. And he gets really annoying because-”
“It’s okay, I understand,” Antonio interrupted. “See you later, Feliciano.”
Chimes rang and the door opened. Just before it slammed close, Antonio could hear vaguely hear the last sounds of the brothers’ conversation.
“Do you think he’s related to the singer, ve?”
“Forget about it! I just wish he took my spiked coffee! When do I get to fuck that bastard?!”
---
Author's Note
Sorry Spain, I abuse you so much. Somehow my headcanon for this fic says that Spain is a lit nerd who sees too much meaning in everything, uses really bad metaphors, has overly scientific sexual thoughts and makes unnecessary literature references.
Thanks to the anons who liked the nice chapter, and sorry to the anon who was offended. =(
References in this chapter include
Crime and Punishment - Dostoevsky, Dostoevsky got ideas for this story during his time in jail apparently.
Pride and Prejudice - Austen, quote is by Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet.
OP
(Anonymous) 2011-03-02 12:19 pm (UTC)(link)Pfff, the Italy brothers are still so funny xD Sure, Feli just "saved" Toni's life. Lol, it's so Antonio to fall for that xD
Enrique Iglesias xDD Oh dear! Now I can't unsee Toni singing dramatically in the rain...
It's no wonder nobody ever comes to that bookstore if the customers are beat up with brooms, forced into buying 50 books and are being served spiked coffee. Their "papa" must've been an awful teacher.
And I totally like your head!canon about Spain ;D
♥ ♥ ♥
Re: To Be Written [6/?] + Author's Note
(Anonymous) 2011-03-03 01:08 am (UTC)(link)I love the Italy brothers in this sooo much! And poor Tonio he really has no clue! xD