#prumano begins again

[flamaflavio]

Okay agree with the entire Romano post, with like one exception xD

He needs to get closer to Germany. Germano maybe isn't as cute as Prumano, but I really like the slowly developing enemies to friends relationship they have going on :3

Ohh yes I like to see how their relationship is slowly developing~ I don't know your opinion on the topic but if Germany and Holy Roman Empire are the same person then they were married/lived together when they were children! Because of Friedrich II who was the Holy Roman Emperor and King of Sicily (I'm sorry I don't know his name in English lol). So I like to think that they were best friends! Always playing pranks on the guards, being loud in the court, skipping classes and hiding in castles together... Prussia (Teutonic Knights) was their bodyguard at that time (realistically only Romano's because HRE can defend himself) so the three of them probably had a lot of fun together. I remember Frederick II fell for a woman in North Italy (Bianca Lancia) so it would be funny if HRE told Mano that his sister (Veneziano) is pretty and Romano would be like "my... sister?" without realising he meant his brother lmaoo. Or HRE teasing him for his super obvious crush for their guard (Prussia),, I love this kind of friendship!

But honestly after meeting each other again during ww1/ww2 Germany and Romano's relationship got so bad to the point where I doubt they can become as close as they used to. I don't know how to explain it but their hearts are in different places? Romano is close to those who became his friends after HRE disappeared (Spain, Belgium, Netherlands...) and Germany has new friends (Italy and Japan). Sometimes friendships just aren't meant to last forever and in my opinion this is a good example. + I don't know if Romano recognised him but even if he did he would just be annoyed by how much he changed and became more serious and shy.

However like you said they finally started to tolerate eachother in modern days so they might become friends in the future!! Not close or good friends, but at least friends. But I think that their new friendship will begin only after Veneziano and Romano's relationship gets better and this will take a lot of time :/. I love Germany (both the character and the country) and I would be happy if he was close to Romano (my country and my favourite country being best friends?!) but sadly my boy Romano is a bit of an asshole so it will take a lot of time :(

[lukatheselkie]

PruMano Week Day One - Books

@prumano-week

This got super out of hand length wise, but I’m VERY happy with it! College AU. Romano wears glasses like the cute nerd he is.

Warnings: Mentions of bullying. Hinted neglect if you squint. There’s a brief moment at the end with a scene of someone doing something without being given consent.

    “Ouch!” Lovino growls under his breath, bending down to pick up the book that hit him in the head. He storms around to the other side to give whoever did it a piece of his mind, but the aisle is empty. He forces himself to take a deep, calming breath, and places the book in its proper spot. He scoffs, shaking his head as he starts tidying them up again. Some people just don’t know how to respect books! He loves books, which is why he jumped on the opportunity to become the library assistant at his University when the job came up. He gets paid to be around something he adores! What a perfect job. But that doesn’t mean it’s problemless. Flying books aren’t commonplace, but they aren’t exactly rare either. This is the first to hit him in the head though. He hopes some jerks aren’t playing a game. ‘Hit the nerd. One hundred points if you hit him, a hundred more if you do it without being noticed by him.’

    Not that he hasn’t been used for such a game before. He supposes it comes from his love of knowledge, and the fact he’s blind without his glasses. Thick glasses and an unquenchable thirst for information is enough to have him labeled as a nerd. Though this is the first time he’s been targeted since starting at this university, if he is being targeted. There’s a possibility it was an accident. Maybe the person ran away because they were scared of how he might react. He rounds the corner of the aisle, and his blood both boils and runs cold at the sight in front of him. In the area meant for seats, there’s a ton of books in the floor. A few piles vaguely resemble destroyed buildings. His left eye twitches, and his right hand jerks. Who in their right mind uses a bunch of books as a domino war?

    His question doesn’t go unanswered long, as someone sits up from one of the piles. “Time guys! I zink ve’re all dead!” More heads pop up, and Lovino’s other eye twitches. He’s going to strangle them all! But their ringleader is first for certain. He steps toward the mess, and the first person glances around the room, seeing him. His eyes widen comically, and he shrieks. “Abort! Leave! Ve’ve been caught! Angry librarian, coming right at me! Save jourselves! I’m a goner!” He falls back into the pile of books dramatically, hand on his forehead in a fake faint. Everyone one else takes off, but not without Lovino taking note of a feature on each that stands out. One has spikey hair, another has thick eyebrows, the third has long wavy hair, the fourth has a scar over his right eye, and the fifth has a big bow in her hair. He turns his attention back to the man laying in the largest pile of books, pretending to have fainted.

    “Get up. Now. And listen to my instructions. Otherwise you’re getting strangled for ruining my library.” The man stands up cautiously, and Lovino looks him over with a scowl. He’s taller than him, and more muscular, but at the same time he looks like a big gust of wind could blow him over. He realizes it’s because he’s an albino. That’s not going to stop his punishment though! Don’t make messes you can’t clean. He tilts his chin up to look the man in the eye, and forgets how to breathe. His eyes are beautiful rubies, and his hair spun cotton. Oh god. I really am a helpless bisexual. After a moment, he figures out how to breathe again, and lays into him. “You will place each and every one of these books back on the shelf where they belong! I don’t care if it takes you days! Weeks! This was your idea, so I won’t let you get by without taking responsibility! Your friends can have detention. Be glad you don’t get it too! I will help you by telling you where they go, but that’s all the help you get. Now get busy!”

    “Yessir!” He snaps a salute, then frantically grabs an armful of books. Lovino cringes at his treatment of them.

    “Not like that.” His voice is softer now, more exasperated than anything. “Here. Let me show you.” He picks up a book of his own, then another. He places the second on top of the first, making sure the spines are facing the same direction. He gathers a few more in this fashion, and holds them out to the albino. “Place the ones in your arms down gently. Take these. Read the last name of the author and find the right spot. I’ll follow behind you to make sure you get them right.” Gilbert tilts his head slightly, confused. This man was just yelling at him, and now he’s helping? After saying he wouldn’t?

    “Jou must really care about zese books.” He places the pile in his arms down, and takes the ones offered to him. A fond smile spreads across the stranger’s lips.

    “I do.” He sighs quietly. “I wish more people appreciated them. But no one seems to care about reading anymore. The world has become too fast-paced to sit and read a nice book. It doesn’t even have to be factual. It would be nice to see someone like you sit down and read any book, even a fantasy one.” He closes his eyes and rubs his temples. “But I guess they’re going out of style. Not many people care anymore.” His eyes open just long enough for him to dust a book off, and hug it tightly to his chest. “I’ve failed you. I’m sorry.” His bottom lip trembles. “My only escape.” Gilbert feels like he’s witnessing something he shouldn’t, especially considering who it is he’s watching.

    He backs away slowly, and starts placing the books back where they belong, triple checking each one before moving on. He doesn’t want to cause the librarian anymore stress. He feels awful for their impromptu game now. Books might be objects to play with to him, but to people like… what’s his name? Lovino? He thinks that’s what’s on his name tag. To people like Lovino, books are one of the most important things to exist. And an escape. But an escape from what? He glances back at the man, and he suddenly understands. From people like me. It’s a sad realization, one that makes him want to apologize for being so awful. But will he even listen? He doubts it, so he keeps his mouth shut and just works.

~

    Gilbert has learned two very important things from the past month of putting books up every day after class for an hour. One: Lovino has a younger brother. Two: that younger brother receives much more attention than he does. Which expands on his attachment to books. He’s most definitely lonely, but he likely won’t ever admit it. He’s probably felt alone since his little brother came along, and being distanced against his will in school because of his glasses didn’t help any, he imagines. He feels bad for the man. He wants to show him that he isn’t alone, but every time he tries to befriend him, he’s cruelly cut off. It’s not his fault though. He’s been conditioned. Everyone prefers his brother. Why should he believe anyone that wants to be his friend now won’t ignore him later? Gilbert grips the book in his hand tightly. He knows how that feels, to a lesser extent.

    Ludwig isn’t albino. He’s always had the favour of their father because of that. But he’s also stronger, and more handsome. Two things that draw in attention from others. He’s aware of it, though, unlike Lovino’s brother. And Ludwig makes it up to him the best he can. Besides, he does have a few friends! Ones that don’t mind being with him. He might not be like Ludwig, but he’s still active in university activities. That gets him plenty of attention. Lovino doesn’t have that. And he hates people that do. Rightfully so, because from what he can gather, they used to bully the Italian. He places the book where it belongs, and goes to get another stack of them. He casually flicks his eyes up to the desk where Lovino is, and chokes on his own saliva.

    His eyes are closed, his glasses are skewed, his lips are parted slightly, and he’s got a book in his hands. But most noticeable of all is his shirt. The left side of his collar is pushed down, exposing his collarbone and shoulder. Gilbert steps closer out of instinct, and doesn’t stop until he’s just on the other side of the desk. His skin is a bit lighter there, but not much. There’s freckles across his shoulder, up his neck a bit, and down his arm. He’s not been this close to Lovino since he was yelling at him. His eyelashes are long. They’re pretty. And his lips aren’t as thin as he thought. Maybe that’s just a side effect of his perpetually agitated expression. The door slams open, and he scrambles away from Lovino quickly, scooping up an armful of books on his way to the shelves. “Brother? Why are you sleeping? I brought you some gifts, silly!”

    He peeks between the shelves at the two of them. He’s not sure why he’s not out in the open, but this feels important. It’s the first time he’s seen the brothers in the same room together. Lovino is rubbing his eyes, grumbling about something. Probably being woken up so rudely. Gilbert can’t even begin to imagine why he’s sleeping at the job he loves. Maybe there’s stress at home? That would explain why his brother’s here. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were sleeping! I wouldn’t have come if I knew!” His lips turn down in a pout, and his bottom lip trembles. Lovino sighs loud enough for Gilbert to hear him.

    “No, I’m sorry. You’re here to give me gifts. I shouldn’t be rude.” He rubs at his eyes again. “Please don’t cry. I love you.” The younger of the two smiles brightly, all signs of sorrow gone. Gilbert clenches his fist. That little brat! It’s all a show! He wasn’t about to cry at all! It’s a way to make Lovino refrain from being grumpy!

    “Ve~! Here!” He hands him a bag, grinning widely. “Read my note first! I have to go study now, bye! Love you!” He pecks him on the cheek, and runs off. Gilbert watches Lovino closely. He’s still just a bit asleep, judging by his slow movements. He pulls out a piece of paper, and flushes crimson after a few seconds of reading it. He wonders what’s on it, but doesn’t let it bother him. Lovino sighs again, shaking his head. He pulls out a mini flag, waves it around with a grimace, and places it in a little cup he keeps his writing utensils in. He doesn’t bring anything else out, despite looking through the contents. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and goes back to reading his book. Deciding nothing else interesting is going to happen, Gilbert starts putting the books up once again.

    When he comes out for another pile, Lovino clears his throat. “You can leave early today.” Gilbert turns to him, brows furrowed.

    “I’m supposed to be here for anozer half hour.”

    “And I said you can leave early. What don’t you understand about that?” He sounds mentally exhausted. He decides not to fight him on it, though he wants to stay longer. On his way out, he is filled with excitement upon seeing the bisexual flag now in the cup of pencils and pens.

~

    “Get away from me!” Gilbert frowns. He knows that voice. He’s never seen Lovino outside of the library though. He must be on his way to it. He follows the voice, readying himself for a fight. “No! Stop! I told you to get away from me!” He sounds like he’s about to cry. He looks like it, too, when he comes into view.

    “Hey! He told jou to get avay, so jou better do zat!” The man pinning Lovino to the wall curses, and runs off. Gilbert wants to run after him, show him what he thinks about him tormenting his friend, but Lovino’s well-being is more important than that. He holds out his hand to him, and gives him a reassuring smile. “Are jou okay? He didn’t do anyzing bad to jou, did he?” His smile and stomach fall when Lovino nods, letting out a quiet sob. “Hey. Come here.” He opens his arms wide. Without hesitation, Lovino runs to him, burying his face in his chest. He rubs his back gently, hugging him tightly. “Jou don’t have to tell me vhat happened. But jou can if jou vant. I’m here to protect jou.” The Italian starts speaking, but he trips over his words too much for them to be comprehensible. After a moment, he takes a deep breath.

    “H-he tugged on my curl! He saw the bisexual flag Vene got me, a-and thought I would be interested in him, j-just because I’m bisexual! I-I have standards! And th-those do not include p-people that do th-that!” He dissolves into tears again. Gilbert starts singing, being sure to do it quietly so he doesn’t interrupt any classes. He rocks them back and forth, hoping to calm him down. Slowly, Lovino’s tears dry, and his sobs turn into hiccups. Those go away too though, and when they do he looks up at Gilbert. The German smiles at him, and gently wipes at the tears that are left on his cheeks.

    “Better?” Lovino nods slowly. After a moment, he gives Gilbert an awkward smile.

    “Yeah. Sorry you had to see me like that.” He pushes Gilbert’s hands away, though he really doesn’t want to. “I can get my own tears.” He wipes at his face quickly, knocking his glasses in doing so.

    “Vhoa zere. Don’t vant to lose zose!” Gilbert laughs, trying to make light of the situation. Lovino shakes his head to get him to stop. “Sorry.” He bows his head. “Zat vas in poor taste.” He looks at Lovino again. “Vhat does tugging on jour curl do?” A heavy silence falls between them, where they’re just staring at each other. An uncomfortable amount of time passes before Gilbert decides to take it back. “Nevermind. Zat vas also in-”

    “It turns me on.” Out of all the things…

    “So he violated jou.” It’s not a question. Lovino’s bottom lip trembles. He hugs him tighter, nudging his head with his hand. That’s all the encouragement he needs to bury his face in the crook of his neck. They stay like that for awhile, just enjoying the comfort of each other.

    “Gilbert,” he grumbles into his chest. He brings a hand up to his hair in response, being careful not to touch his curl. “I guess this answers my question.” He laughs quietly, brokenly.

    “Question?”

    “Mmm yeah. I’m sorry for telling you to leave yesterday. I didn’t want you to. It’s just Vene wrote me this really embarrassing note, and gave me all these… things. He mentioned you in the note. Specifically, he mentioned the possibility of me liking you. Romantically. I wasn’t thinking about it until then, and I got upset with you for no reason. I know now it’s because I didn’t want to admit my feelings to myself. But I can’t deny them anymore. My question was if I had them, and I have my answer. But I have a question for you. Will you go out with me?” He looks into his eyes earnestly. Gilbert’s heart skips a beat, and he nods wordlessly. A genuine smile spreads across his lips. “Thank you for caring more about me than you do about Vene. You’re the first.” He nuzzles his nose against the base of his throat.

    “Jou’re going to have to stop zat right now. I’m sensitive zere.” Lovino giggles.

    “Good.” He tilts his head up at him, like he did when they first met. But this time, he voices what he’s thinking. “Kiss me.” Gilbert doesn’t have to be told twice. He closes the distance between them, putting as much care and love into the kiss as he can.

[pancake-man]

PRUMANO SECRET VALENTINES

Hey @anamelodemelo! I’m a little(almost two months) late, but I was your prumano secret valentine! Big thanks to @prumano-week for organising this whole thing and @snowywolff for kicking my butt into gear to finish this. 

Your prompts were  Kiss, Funny, Fancy, Date, Nyotalia and I tried to cover all of them! I used fannames because I couldn’t find any good names for the Nyo!s, so Nyo!Prussia is Zoe and Nyo!Romano is Elena!  I hope you enjoy it!

Kissing + Mishaps = Kisshaps

They’ve been doing the same thing for years, curled up in blankets and surrounded by junk food, a cheesy movie neither of them has ever heard of blaring on the screen across the room. The same thing, except it’s changed. Both of them have grown, but not much, perpetually stuck below 5’4. Elena’s room has gone from pink hues and stuffed animals to reds and greens and potted succulents on the windowsill. Zoe cut off most of her long hair and Elena wears makeup now. But they’re still the same kids who met years ago on a playground. 

So now it’s Elena with her back against the mattress, sitting on the floor because she’s too lazy to get her glasses and she wants to see, dammit, and Zoe up on the bed, laying on her back with an entire bowl of chips balanced on her stomach.

The actor in the film has lost his shirt, again, and Zoe is laughing her ass off making fun of the script and costume department and everything else, really. Elena isn’t sure what about the plot requires the hero to be shirtless, but she’s not paying attention anyways. The flashing lights of cheap CGI reflect on Zoe’s face, making her stand out in the dark room. 

Zoe bites her lip and sucks in a breath as the scene shifts. It’s the hero’s younger sister, and the villain(Elena thinks, she’s still not sure what the plot is) They’re fighting, knives out and teeth bared until the sister has the other woman pinned to the ground. The actresses are panting, and Elena feels her own heart beat badump, badump, badump. 

The women on screen press their lips together, cheesy and dramatic. “What does that feel like?” She asks, blurts out, because Zoe has experience and she doesn’t. Elena asks because she’s curious, because she’s never kissed a boy, let alone a girl, and what’s on screen is never like in real life.

Zoe hums, sticks her tongue between her teeth like she’s always done. “Just like kissing a boy, I guess.” 

Elena’s nails dig into her palm. “Never done that.”

Zoe doesn’t respond for a moment. Then Elena hears the rustle of blankets as her friend rolls over. “Oh. It’s- um. It’s like there’s this space in your chest that you never knew was there, and then it’s just-” She pops her lips. “Filled.”

Elena hums. Her face feels on fire. “I get it,” she says, even though she doesn’t. The movie has moved onto another fight scene, this time with more men and explosions. Neither of them are interested anymore.

Again the sound of blankets, then Elena feels breath on the back of her neck. She turns around and Zoe is right there, so close. “I didn’t explain very well, did I?” Zoe’s lips move around the words, and Elena can’t decide whether to look at them or Zoe’s eyes.

“No, it’s- fine. It’s fine.” 

“I could just show you.” 

“Don’t be a fucking weirdo,” Elena laughs, but it sounds fake and hollow. She leans forward.

It’s nothing like how Zoe described. It’s actually kinda terrible. Elena goes in with her lips puckered like a blowfish and Zoe goes straight for a French. Zoe groans and Elena can feel the vibrations go straight through her. Zoe pulls away, taking all of her warmth and too-much-ness with her.

“What the fuck was that shitty excuse for a first kiss, asshole?” Elena begins, but then Zoe smushes her cheeks between her hands and guides her up onto the bed. She’s sitting between Zoe’s legs now, and Zoe uses her hands to move Elena’s head around like a doll, tilting it just so that when they meet again, it’s a thousand times better than the first. 

Gasps are quickly swallowed up by hungry lips as eyes close and hands move around each other. Zoe is still tangled in pillows and fluff, leaving a barrier between them that feels like miles of distance. Fingers are running through Elena’s hair, pulling at the tangled curls until she whines and retaliates by digging her nails into Zoe’s shoulders.

Elena feels- wait, is that teeth? Something sharp hits her lip and she yelps, jumping back and hitting Zoe square in the face with her head. Elena looks up to see an awful fountain of blood burst forth from Zoe’s nose- all over her clean bedsheets. Goddammit.

“Shit I’m sorry-” She starts to say, but Zoe cuts her off with a wheeze. 

“No! No it’s fine, I’m just gonna-” Zoe starts to stand up, but their cocoon of blankets is still wrapped around her legs and she falls backwards. Elena reaches out for her and insead falls right on top of her, wedged between the wall and the bed. 

“Oh, MOTHER-”

---

“Seriously I’m so sorry that probably hurt like a son of a b-”

“Dude you’ve already apologised like, a billion times. It’s no sweat.”

“Zoe. Your arm is literally broken.”

“Yeah but it’s fine, see?” Zoe lifts up her arm, twisted at a horrible angle, and waves. “Can’t feel a thing.”

“I’m pretty sure not being able to feel your arm is really fucking bad! As in very not good! Kaput, nicht so gut.”

“Dude your accent is terrible,” Zoe laughs, with a loud snort at the end that nearly makes Elena swerve off the road. Driving with Zoe was usually distracting, let alone in the middle of the night when she had a broken arm. The arm that broke after they made out. That arm.

“Why are you still calling me dude? I feel like we’ve passed that point,” Elena rolls her eyes. But really… Maybe that kiss hadn’t meant anything to Zoe. Maybe Elena was just another girl. Maybe they really were just on ‘dude’ terms. 

Zoe shuts up for once, which normally would be great but now it just makes Elena more nervous, and she blows through a red light. “Jesus fucked a cow on a whole wheat bun, Elena! Keep your eyes on the road!”

“I’m sorry!” Elena blurts again, for the billion-and-first time. “You’re really distracting!”

“What?” 

“Don’t be an asshole, you know what I mean!”

“No seriously, what? I’m just me.”

Elena groans. She wishes she could pull over and have a proper conversation, but no, she needs to get Zoe to the hospital before she bleeds out or something. “You know, like, everytime you do stuff I just can’t focus.”

“Oh?” Elena is keeping her eyes on the road like a good driver, but she can hear the stupid smirk in Zoe’s voice. “Like what?”

“Like! I don’t know! Fuck!” 

Zoe snorts.

“Not like that!” Elena bites her lip and tries to find the words. “Like that right there! When you snort! It’s really fucking cute! And I liked your long hair but now that it’s short I mean- shit, have you ever looked in a mirror? You’re hot! Really hot! And I’ve known you my whole life so you’re kinda like my sister but not because that would be weird, you’re so much better and… fuck!” She didn’t mean to ramble that long. She glances over at Zoe, quickly, just to see her reaction.

Zoe is quiet. She’s holding her arm close to her chest, so it must actually hurt, and she’s just being a bitch about it. 

“Sorry, I know I’m not your type-”

“Dude, I thought you were straight.” Zoe moves her good hand over Elena’s. It’s awkward reaching over her seatbelt and broken arm, and Elena’s hands are still on the wheel so it probably isn’t safe, but Elena’s heart does flip-flops anyways.

“I mean… I don’t know what I am. I’ve never… liked anyone else.” Elena takes a deep breath. “Just you.”

Silence from Zoe again. Then- another snort. She starts laughing. “Dude! I thought you were straight!”

Angry tears prick Elena’s eyes. “Fuck off, bastard! I’m driving you to the hospital, don’t be a dick about my feelings!”

“No! No no no.” Zoe pulls her hand away and holds it up in surrender. Elena’s hand feels cold. “I meant, If I knew you were into- well, into me, I would’ve asked you out a long time ago.”

Now Elena does slam on the breaks and pull over. There’s nobody behind them, thank god, but Zoe is still thrown forward and it jars her arm. She cries out and curls into herself. 

“Fuck! Sorry, I just- what?” Elena unbuckles her seatbelt and tries to help Zoe back up. She’s crying- no, wait, she’s just laughing again. Zoe unfurls and launches herself at Elena’s face, slamming their lips together in a way that’s definitely painful. Just another bruise to add to the growing list. 

Zoe pulls away with that cute smirk of hers. “I like you too, dumbass.” 

Elena gasps in offense and punches her. In the arm. Which is broken. Zoe crumples again. “Right! Fuck! Hospital! Sorry!” She rebuckles and starts the car again.

Emergency room staff are the best. They’ve seen so much weird shit that they don’t blink at two teenage girls stumbling in at three in the morning, covered in blood and attached at the mouth. They barely notice at all, actually, and Elena has to fight to get any kind of immediate attention. She stays in the room through the whole ordeal(almost puking at the sight of Zoe’s arm being set into place) and peppers many more apologies throughout the night(Apparently Zoe’s nose is broken too. Elena peppers in kisses for good measure). 

The adrenaline of driving your friend(?) to the hospital in the middle of the night is finally leaving her body when the nurse finally leaves the room, and from the looks of it Zoe is just as tired. She’s all wrapped up in bandages, just like the blankets they’d left at home. The hospital chair Elena was given feels about as comfy as Zoe’s bed looks.

“Mmf mhm hh meh?” Zoe says eloquently.

“What?” Elena replies in kind.

“Bunch of fuckin��� messes aren’t we?”

“Ha. Yeah. You look worse than me.”

Zoe snorts, smirks. “You’re just as covered in blood.”

Elena’s eyes widen. “No way,” she retorts as she fumbles for her phone. Sure enough, when she opens her camera she can see her face is smeared with blood, especially around her lips. From Zoe’s bloody nose. “Oh, GROSS!” She gags and grabs some of Zoe’s bandages to wipe the rapidly-drying mess off. Zoe only laughs harder, wheezing an ‘ow’ between each snort.

“Did you mean it?” Elena asks, cutting off Zoe’s laughing fit. 

“All of it.”

“So, uh, wanna go to prom?”

“Sure, fuck it.”

“Fuck you.”

“On the first date? Elena, you foxy little-” 

“Fuck you!”

Prom is two weeks later. Zoe’s cast is covered in black lace to match her dress. They look baller. There’s a lot of making out after. And this time, nobody ends up in the ER.

[ask-lorenzo-vargas]

The obvious answer was yes.

Wake him up? 

>YES 

>NO

[worldcakecakecake]

On Deutschland and Italia by Lovino Valenti

Lovino writes a series of blog entries on the relationship between Germany and Italy as he deals with a move to Hamburg, his brother’s wedding, and his budding romance (which he denies) to the infuriating Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Hahaha…hahahaha…hahaha…as you can probably tell, I have absolutely no control. Here, have yet ANOTHER new story that I have had here in the works for a while too. Another new pairing, prumano, which I admit is another of my favorites in the fandom and this is my diving into it as well.

This is done as a gift to a dear friend, Nikki, one of their accounts here at tumblr being @ask-the-icelandic-little. She has helped me several time with the stories, especially with the German in them and even helped me to write a letter so I could get my year visa here in Germany. She has been a great follower and friend and thus I honor her with this story. It is set in Hamburg as it her home and the place we managed to meet and spend some wonderful time together.

I hope this story is a well enough gift and hope other readers enjoy it as well.

Fair warning: Lovino is incredibly biased in writing these articles and can write very negatively about Germany. Things can even come as negative even for Italy and I apologize incredibly if you are deeply offended or you do not agree with the mention. I do admit that Lovino is MEANT to be this biased about Germany and I’m just exploring his thought process during the situation. But, I am extremely willing to hear better accuracies and how I can improve Lovino’s blogs. So please have no fear in messaging.

When it comes to updating, same as some of the last stories I’ve posted.

                                                     Chapter 1

On Deutschland and Italia.

Germania and the Roman Empire.

Aldrich Beilschmidt and Augusto Valenti.

 The Roman Empire shared a northern border with Germania. Both groups trained and lived to fight, one making wars and pillaging enough to be considered one of the strongest empires in our history, the other the very one that brought this power its end. But before that, the Romans and Germanics lived in relative peace. Although the Romans kept trying to push into their land, Germanics themselves kept seeking entrance into the empire, wanting to live as Romans did, joining their armies, even seeking marriage. At first, the Romans denied many of these chances and it took many years of fighting and other casualties for the Romans to start giving them these permissions. Germanics talked often of the Romans, wanting to be like them, getting their items that they used for their own. And it was shared, for Romans were just as wondered by their brightness of their hair, eyes and skin, their own forms of battle, even their culture, which was extensively written about and it’s the reason we have information of the Germanics in the first place. The downside is that it’s all written by Romans.

 These Germanics settled well in the territory, some even reaching high positions to lead even their own groups. Sadly, it was throughout this that they managed to get enough men to sack Rome, a dwindling of the empire beginning since then.

 Aldrich Beilschmidt, esteemed for owning the famous ‘Beilschmidt Services’, the high demanded mechanic shop with the best state of the art technology that can get your car fixed like new. Augusto Valenti, founder of the restaurants ‘Antico’, the most acclaimed Italian restaurant in all of Hamburg, perhaps even Germany and I’m not writing that simply because he’s my grandfather.

 These two figures hold a friendship that many have watched for years. They went to school together, traveled across Europe and even Africa and Asia together, they were the best man for each other’s wedding and each is a godfather to one of their children.

 Who better to begin on this special series of articles about the relationship between Germany and Italy than two men of experience and stories that can well represent this great empire and these proud tribes.

 They met in 1949, through a still reconstructing Europe after the second world war, in Denmark, where they were both attending a specialized boarding school. They formed a peculiar friendship, a shield to all the insults of ‘Nazi scum’ or ‘Mussolini mafia’ that they were shot at everybody, bonding over honey buns and which kid was bullying them more.

 As the years passed, they managed rooming together, even took respecting trips to Germany and Italy to know their countries and even their families. Each adopted the other, both growing a relationship that was more like brothers each day.

 On 1962, Aldrich wedded Louis Oelberg and Augusto, Helena Stefanidis, only by a mere month apart. Although Augusto and Helena only had a single daughter, my mother, Renata Valenti, Aldrich and Louis had three. The two elder boys, Marcellus and Karl Beilschmidt, and their youngest daughter, Monika Beilschmidt, who was born around the same time as Renata. Aldrich became Renata’s godfather, as Augusto to Monika, these two little girls continuing well that friendship, uniting the families through feasts, dinners, chats over the phone, their balconies, their front doors, through every step of their children’s growth, through the death of Helena, for when Marcellus left to Austria and Karl to Switzerland following love, trips, graduations, weddings and any other new births. It was following this friendship that Augusto established himself for some years here in Hamburg, Aldrich offering help to get Augusto opening that restaurant he often spoke and even dreamt of having outside of Italy. It is the reason why I came here when I was three and lived for about two years, before homesickness attacked well my family and we were once again brought back to Italy for many years before…once again, Hamburg, Germany, called us back…because there’s nothing in the world that can stop my grandfather’s ultimate epic romance with Aldrich Beilschmidt.

 Now you must be wondering if I, Augusto Valenti’s eldest grandson, heir to the family’s power, has continued well this long family friendship to the great Beilschmidts. I’m sorry, but this is one of the many things I disappoint my family in.

 To be honest, I can’t stand any of them, but if there’s one that takes the throne of holding my ultimate hatred, it’s Gilbert Beilschmidt.

  There was Monika Beilschmidt and Renata Valenti, exchanging gossip, snacks and any new events happening in the city. Their two youngest sons, Ludwig Beilschmidt and Feliciano Valenti, both two years old, played in a sand box, trying to build castles or pretend foods with their toy molds, a corner just for them which both the mothers could watch them from. Lovino Valenti, Renata’s eldest, chose to sit by his mother, bored, pouting, hands wrapped on his chest angry and even vengeful. The four-year-old kept his heavy stare on the monkey bars, on the big slides and high levels to climb on, with countless games or fake horses to ride, and yet he was not part of it, as any boy his age should.

 “Lovino, carino, go on, play,” Renata had tried to usher him, but Lovino would just pout more, wrapping his arms more strongly around him, as if trying to chain himself to the bench.

 “Gilbert is out there. I’m sure he’d love for you to play with him.” It was just at the mention that a loud laugh echoed across the playground, said albino boy having found a way to climb the biggest pole, hanging himself from it and waving around a large toy sword, seeming to claim the entire area as his own.

 Monika groaned and hid her face in shame in her hands while Renata giggled.

 Lovino didn’t want to mention that he was the real reason he refused to stand up, so he just remained as silent as he had arrived to the park.

 “Or you can play with Antonio and Francis,” Renata continued to suggest.

 Both these boys kept a further slide and small climbing rock to themselves, taking rounds and finishing by picking some of their dolls and action figures they brought to play, all laid across the sand just for them.

 Lovino sighed, guessing they will do, finally standing and making his reach. He kept out of eye sight from the raging albino, hiding well until he reached Antonio and Francis’s playing domain.

 “Hi,” he shyly introduced himself.

 Antonio perked and gave a large smile, running over and even embracing Lovino tightly, something the other was already used to, so he didn’t bother in pushing him off as he usually did, especially when he was trying to avoid getting a lot of attention…thus getting Gilbert’s attention.

 “Hi, Lovino! Are you okay? You look kind of scared,” the young Spanish boy worried.

 “Can I…can I play with you and Francis?” He asked yet with that very fear.

 “Of course, you can! Right now we’re trying to solve a murder mystery! Someone killed Dusky the mime and we think it was Dawny the clown!”

 And Lovino joined, partaking in all the action they imagined, using well the slide, the rock climbing, the toys, creating an array that had even others joining. Many began to notice, adults thinking it sweet, other children wanting to partake, even those that played along with Gilbert.

 “So, it was Ernest the bat this entire time,” Elizabeta wondered as she saw from one of the top levels of the jungle gym.

 “They shouldn’t have interrogated Spotti like they did,” Sadiq added.

 “What are you guys staring at anyways?” Gilbert finally dropped from the ceiling, getting between them and wanting a better watch. “What are they doing?” He demanded to know.

 “Solving a murder.”

 “They just finished interrogating Ernest the bat and they’re going to arrest him.” Sadiq pointed to Lovino, who for now, did the guard that was taking the bat plush away, meant to be hidden under the slide as the pretend prison.

 “Oh look, Lovino is playing,” Gilbert grinned evilly.

 “Leave him alone, Gilbert,” Elizabeta warned, but Gilbert scoffed.

 “I think someone should break in and free Ernest,” he decided, jumping over the rails, sliding down a pole, reaching the ground and running off to the scene.

 Lovino had just placed the plush, pretending to close an imaginary cell. “And you’re staying there forever!” He declared, thinking he could turn to deal with the injuries Justin the bear had suffered in the heist. He was completely unprepared for when a new presence slid well under the slide, arising dust into the air, making Lovino cough and wave his hands trying to get clearance. When it all settled, Ernest was not in his prison anymore, instead, in the high arms of Gilbert Beilschmidt at the other side of the slide.

 “It is not over! Ernest is free again! And he will not rest until he has his vengeance,” Gilbert shouted.

 “No! He has to stay in there!” Lovino went to get it back, but Gilbert was taller and could keep the plush high in the air, not a reach for Lovino no matter how hard he jumped.

 “Give it back! Give it back!”

 “No, I want to keep him!” Gilbert even went and embraced the plush.

 “He’s not yours!”

 “Not yours either!”

 “You weren’t even supposed to play!”

 “I can if I want to! You can’t boss me around!” They kept turning and jumping across the area, Gilbert even beginning to laugh loudly at Lovino’s continued attempts that were foolish now.

 “Why can’t you ever leave me alone?!” Lovino was getting furious, his grasps now more harsh, dangerous, his nails seeming to grow into claws now.

 “Cause, it’s fun! You always get so funny when you get like this!” And there was that laugh, evil and haunting in Lovino’s mind, annoying, and there was nothing more that he wanted than for it to stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.

 One of those grasps became a push. It wasn’t hard, it was only a little touch to Gilbert’s stature, but it created an instant halting, Gilbert staring at the area he pushed for some sort of marking. There was nothing, but to Gilbert, the fact that Lovino dared touch him, was mark and insult enough. The glare he grew was predatory-like, his grip on Ernest the Bat harsh, Antonio and Francis fearing he would break it from where they stood staring.

 “You’re not…supposed…to touch me!” He shouted, throwing Ernest to the sand.

 “Then just leave me alone!” Lovino dared come forward with another push, but that very extend of his arms, Gilbert used them to throw him to the ground, beside the plush. The other kids scurried back in fear.

 Before Lovino was given a chance to stand, Gilbert was on him, kicking, punching, scratching and Lovino answered the same way. Children called, the scene one that began to take attention, Monika and Renata noticing, having to jump instantly to stop both their sons’ fighting. By the time both the mothers had departed them, both the boys were already covered in new cuts and bruises, Lovino sending a kick for another, Gilbert his own, both trying to break from their mothers’ hold to continue.

 “Gilbert! Gilbert! Stop! That is enough!” Monika shouted commandingly, having to embrace his whole body to get him to still any angered movement.

 “Lovino! Lovino! Calm down! Calm down! Stop this!” Renata in turn had to pick him up, hold him to his shoulder, rub his back, a lulling that always made its effect.

 They were causing a large stare, one that the mothers were beginning to find intrusive, and so both, with shared glances of apology, decided that it was best to leave and talk about this with their sons back in their own homes. As to not have anymore interactions, they quickly picked their things, having to pull apart Ludwig and Feliciano and leave hurriedly. Both the toddlers complained and cried, making it more difficult with their elders glaring and pouting as they made their way to their respective cars.

  Renata lived with her father, husband and two sons in the apartments above the restaurant, a pretty active street in the city almost as lively as it had been in Rome. Renata greeted the waiters and workers she knew worked this shift before taking the brightly red painted door that led upwards, the three meeting the delightful scent of freshly made lunch that even coated the stairs. Renata placed Feliciano on the ground, the little boy confidently, although with some difficulty, making the rest of his climb up.

 “Pasta! Pasta! Pasta!” He shouted as he ran towards the kitchen, crushing into the hold of his grandfather, who smiled, taking him up in his arms to kiss and blow raspberries on his stomach.

 “Yes! I have made lots of pasta for you and your brother to stuff yourselves!”

 Feliciano celebrated and Augusto laughed, expecting the same smile and eagerness from his older grandson, but he entered the room maddened, looking away from even all the tomatoes he had placed on the table.

 “And what’s with that face, piccolo pomodoro?” Augusto neared, wanting his embraces and kisses now, but Lovino huffed and moved back.

 “I hate Gilbert!” He proclaimed loudly.

 Augusto sighed, gazing over to Renata to hear a better explanation.

 “The usual,” she rolled her eyes.

 “What did he do this time?” Augusto picked up Lovino to sit on the counter, so he could tell his story at eye level.

 “I was playing with Antonio and Francis, we were solving this murder and had finally caught the culprit! We send him to prison, but Gilbert wanted to get him out! I told him he wasn’t supposed to, that he wasn’t even supposed to play and that he had to leave me alone. He pushed me and then we started fighting. Look what he did!” He raised the sleeve of his jacket to reveal his new bruises, which made Augusto lament, getting some ointments and napkins to help cure the area.

 “Well…at least I know you’re perfectly capable of protecting yourself,” Augusto sighed, even if it meant that he was fighting with one of his best friend’s grandson.

 “I gave it to him good, Nonno! He’ll have marks for days!” He exalted.

 “It’s not something to be proud of, Lovino. I would much prefer if you two actually…sat down and played nicely. Is it too much to ask?”

 “Yes it is! All Gilbert does is make fun of me and call me mean things,” Lovino pouted.

 “You’re right, but then you continue in his game and it just gets worst. How about next time, you compliment him or suggest something you can both do together,” he tried to create peace.

 “No!” Lovino decided, sure.

 “Come on…” Augusto wanted to convince him.

 “No! No! No! No! No!” Lovino shook his head fiercely, turning so harshly he began leaning to the side, almost falling from the top of the counter if Augusto haven’t gotten him right.

 “If you’re not going to, at least try to behave more whenever were with the Beilschmidts.”

 “I don’t like any of them, Nonno, not even Ludwig!”

 “He’s only two years old!”

 “Still don’t like him!”

 “But were all such good friends with them. We can’t just stop seeing them because you don’t like them.”

 “I would make me really happy if you did…” he saddened, looking down.

 “Lovino, mio caro.” Augusto took his chin, raising his hazel eyes back to his bright brown ones. “You don’t have to like them if you don’t want to, but you have to understand what they mean to us. When you’re older, and you’re no longer living in this household, you can do whatever you want and not see any of their faces again.” Lovino glowed at such wonderful days far in the future. “But for now, bare what you can, and try not to start a fight with Gilbert every time you’re in the same room.”

 And Lovino remained silent, adverting his eyes in a way that made Augusto know that no such things was happening any time soon. He sighed, he would just have to repeat this speech on and on until he could finally understand.

 “Go wash up and then we can have lunch, all right?”

 “Mhm!” His smile and energy was true as he got down from the counter and headed quickly.

 Augusto sighed and wondered on about what he could do.

  On Deutschland and Italia.

Union and Betrayals.

Leaving Hamburg.

 Yes, Germany and Italy have a vast history together that could might as well start with Ancient Rome and the Germanic tribes. Something that constantly repeats between these two countries is incredible moments of union…and then those of ultimate betrayal. Sure, both were in the ‘I hate Austria’ club and parts of Italy were part of the once Holy Roman Empire and the German confederation, but we can’t forget that in both world wars, they would begin allied…only to end betraying each other in massacres. Despite this, they formed an alliance during the cold war and now they are both leading members of the European Union.

 Such a thing to ruin the relationship with the Beilschmidts and the Valenti has not happened, but the closest that came to it was when we had to leave Hamburg about twenty years ago.

  Such departure was celebrated, in a fine dinner that both Gilbert Beilchmidt and Lovino Valenti were forced to wear tight suits, fitted for their small figures. They both spent much of the celebration trying to remove what they could…only to have their mothers tighten or put back whatever they left in the tables or chairs. With whatever fun they tried to find, they still ended spending much of the celebration just sitting in different tables, pouting and talking about how they wanted to leave.

 In the three years Lovino had lived in Hamburg, Aldrich and Augusto had constantly repeated the advice to both their grandsons, yet neither had done fair to their words. Their fights, problems and hatred only increased in number, in fact, they only glared at each other whenever they had to meet during the feast. At one point it seemed like a competition, since they would sit for minutes just sending hatred with their eyes. Aldrich and Augusto couldn’t keep their arms off from each other, Monika and Renata couldn’t stop talking, and Ludwig and Feliciano wouldn’t stop crying. Gilbert and Lovino wanted to get away from each other.

 Finally, at deep late hours, Renata had come to place her hands gently on Lovino’s shoulders, after having them clean the tears that fell down her cheeks. “Ready to go?”

 For once in the entire dinner, did Lovino actually smile, sure that that glare would be the last he would give to Gilbert Beilschmidt, as well as the last time he would see his annoying white hair, viola eyes and ultimate paleness.

 On Deutschland and Italia.

The Eurozone Crisis.

Returning to Hamburg.

 Germans like to believe that they are the knights in shining armor coming to save a damsel in distress Italy from some far-off tower in our current crisis. If you dare tell me that, you’re earning yourself an easy punch in the face or an ultimate cursing that will be felt across your entire lineage.

 This is incredibly untrue, in fact, Italy has been helping countries like Greece, Spain and Ireland more so than Germany has done. I believe the Germans made all this ploy to get cheaper shopping sprees and take our companies for themselves.

 Let me make this clear, I hate Germany, and I could easily make an entire new blog dedicated to my desire to burn the place to the ground. Then why return? Why after twenty years did I decide to return to the city that all I can remember about is nightmares, cold, bad food and an annoying albino making it worst. Easy, because Germany could give me an opportunity that Italy tragically could not. My story is not the first to happen to an Italian, it is a constantly repeated tale that you can find in any other Italian blog, or you can hear any young Italian say.

 Germany is not only taking our goods and money. They’re also taking Italy’s brightest minds. Why does this happen? Easy…because Italy is falling apart and we are left with no other choice than to leave for England, or the U.S., or of course, Germany.

 Italy owes more than two trillion euros and whenever we think we have that money, it just suddenly disappears (corruption, obviously).

 So I’m left with no other choice than to come back and accept this barbarian country as my new home.

 I’m twenty-five, independent even when living above my grandfather’s restaurant with the rest of my family in the same building, my own job, my own car, my own wishes, plans…which means I at least don’t have to face those disgusting Beilschmidts again.

  He kicked the door open, finally bringing in the last box, dropping it to the floor and then pushing it to join the others. He groaned knowing he had to unbox and organize. He had just arrived and was in no mood to deal with anything else, wondering if he should just take a nap. When he heard the exciting and rushing steps coming up the staircase, he knew that chance for rest was not going to occur at all.

 “You are finally here!” His grandfather just crashed into the apartment, hands all over the place, his body seeming to bring an entire parade with him.

 Lovino rolled his eyes but readied his opened hands to take and accept the hug Augusto always greeted him with. He was spun, with a couple of bones cracked before he was placed back on the ground.

 “So, have you started?” Augusto was too wondered as he gazed about the apartment, empty but for a couple of appliances.

 “No, and I don’t think I want to today.” The only thing Lovino settled on taking out was a bean chair, throwing it in what would be the center of the living room, then falling upon it, closing his eyes and settling himself already for a nap.

 “Don’t be such a lazy ass!” Augusto scolded and clapped his hands to keep him awake. “Come on, I’ll help you! Where do we start?” He went ahead and opened the nearest stacked box, a fragile one with a lot of flower decorated plates Lovino had gotten in Sicily.

 How his almost eighty-year-old grandfather could so readily take a pile and place them already in their cabinet with energy to continue was beyond him, he was still not moving from his spot. He took out a pair of sunglasses and decided he would settle no matter what his grandfather would do. Augusto was not accepting it though, and as he turned around to get to the other boxes, he kicked the bean bag until Lovino was tumbling over to the ground.

 “What the hell?!” Lovino shouted in his usual angry fires.

 “Come on! Let’s get to it! The sooner you have everything, the sooner you can get to taking all the siestas you want.” Augusto had learned to be unfazed by it all.

 Pouting, Lovino stood, angrily kicking the bean bag himself, throwing the sunglasses and opening harshly a box of decorated cups.

 “You know, when Feliciano had first moved here, he couldn’t keep still. He had his whole apartment ready that weekend to accept guests,” Augusto recalled as he found some vases that could be used at the counter to decorate.

 “Nonno, it was extremely obvious he did it to impress Ludwig and to end up getting fucked that night.”

 “Your younger brother is an angel who will not do such things. He told me he was going to wait till marriage and I’m sure of his word.”

 Lovino rolled his eyes and didn’t bother continuing forward. “Whatever. Feliciano was excited to come here, I’m not.”

 “Yet you’re here.”

 “Because I had no other choice. If it was up to me, I would still be in Naples right now.” There was such sadness in his voice as he picked some books to place on a nice shelf in the living room.

 “And I’m sure that there will be many other chances for you to return. Hamburg has a lot to offer you as a beautiful young Italian man.”

 To be honest, Lovino loved it when his grandfather complimented like he did, as if he was presenting him to an important crowd. For a moment he could forget about that weigh of stress, happily moving about boxes now, trying to get more kitchen related items.

 “After you have everything you need from here, something bright will await you once again in Naples,” Augusto was sure as he placed jars now.

 “I want to be back by the end of the year,” Lovino had promised himself.

 “And you will, but for now, try to be happy here. All will work well, you’ll see.”

                                                                                               next chapter >

[oneletterwrites]

Could you write anything for Prumano, if possible? Pleaseee? Canon verse, fluffy if possible ^^ Maybe confession or so, but I will leave that to you :3

“Here’s the thing-” Gilbert puts his hands together, pointing them at his brother who is making a decent attempt at reprimanding him for being a nuisance. It’s one of the few things Gilbert is good at even when he’s not trying. Their meeting is going swimmingly down the drain and he’s enjoying every minute of it. Ludwig on the other hand is asking him to calm down and maybe help him get the meeting under way.

“I don’t care,” Gilbert makes a rainbow arch with his hands, wild smile on his face that only grows when Ludwig sighs and puts his face in his hands. A snicker behind him catches his attention and Gilbert is quick to turn around and throw an arm over Lovino’s shoulder.

“Lighten up West, there’ll be more meetings,” Is his lazy excuse to not help. Ludwig just sighs again and stalks off in search of a place to calm down. Gilbert snickers and leans happily into Lovino who is smirking in to his hand.

“I swear the veins in his head were gunna explode,” Lovino snorts again, allowing himself to be directed down the hall by Gilbert’s arm on him. Gilbert is slightly proud of that. Not almost getting his brother to have a stroke, but getting Lovino to laugh. It’s not often his laugh is heard and when it is, it lights up Gilbert’s whole damn world.

“One day,” Gilbert makes a faulty promise and Lovino tolls his eyes knowing Gilbert would never really try to harm his brother. On accident maybe, but never on purpose. They find a bench outside and take refugee there until their allotted break time is up. 

“So what are you doing after this?” Gilbert rocks back and forth on his heels, smirking down at Lovino who is enjoying the amount of sun hitting his skin. Lovino shrugs at that, twisting up his face as he thinks.

“Why?” He gives Gilbert a skeptical look to which the other only laughs.

“Maybe we could do something after, hang out or whatever,” Gilbert flippantly waves his hands but his insides are turning to mush. Lovino raises an eyebrow.

“You asking me out on a date?” It’s snarky and rude and everything Gilbert has fallen for a million times over. He shrugs in response, trying to keep himself calm and casual.

“Yeah I think I am,” It’s a damn miracle he doesn’t trip over his words or his voice doesn’t crack, doing his best to keep up that image of cool and collected. His eyes widen happily when Lovino, while still with a twist in his face, begins to puff up in a blush.

“That.. could be fine,” He grumbles. Gilbert slides to sit by him and wraps an arm over his shoulders. Lovino in turn places his head on Gilbert’s shoulder, to hide his face he’ll never admit it. They stay on the bench until the last minute.

“You’re insufferable,” Lovino chides him as they are definitely late. Gilbert just snickers and elbows him playfully, skillfully dodging a swatting hand back at him. He winks and takes his seat, a giddy grin on his face when he looks over to Lovino who is also not paying attention. He thunks his head to the table.

He had wanted to ask Lovino on a date for months, with careful amounts of planning and at least an idea of what do to. That went out the window. He peeks over his arms at Lovino who is rolling his eyes at him already. Gilbert smiles to himself mostly.

Their friendship started shaky at best and terrible at worst. Steadily they grew into a system of not getting on each others nerves too much. It kept growing till Gilbert couldn’t be happy in a day without seeing Lovino at least once, talking to him at the bare minimum.

Lovino’s own want to talk to him hadn’t been so obvious but Gilbert learned to see through the signs. His casual worry laced with rude comments. Every little thing he could find made him want to be near Lovino more. He knew the other hid his concerns, it had only been a matter of time before he figured out how to tell. Gilbert took too much happiness in seeing how much actual concern Lovino had for him.

When the meeting is over he corals Lovino with him and they head to a small restaurant close by. The time is spent making rude remarks to each other but the smiles on their faces tell they mean no harm and thoroughly enjoy what the other has to offer.

[oneletterwrites]

Can you please write a PruMano sorta fluff scene?

Today is the day, it has to be, Gilbert has been putting this off for far too long and if he waits any longer he might just explode over keeping his emotions so bottled up. It’s a little unusual for him to not let his feelings spring forth but for this he’s nervous. It’s not very day he confesses his love for someone.

With a bouquet of flowers in his hands and himself dressed in one of his nicer outfits, he parks the borrowed car outside of a house and debates if he should actually really go through with this. He puffs up his cheeks at his own thinking. He has to do this. It’s unfair to either of them for him to keep this to himself.

With a deep breath he drags himself out of the car and to the front steps. There he stands with his mind numb to everything around him. What is he supposed to say? How could he say this without it ending horribly? Only one way to find out. Quickly his knuckles his the door before he can really back out of his plan.

The seconds waiting for the door to open are nearly pure agony and he has to consciously remember to not crush the flowers in his hands to death. His mental image of a picture perfect confession has been thrown out the window and at this point he’s willing to settle for not messing it up any more.

Lovino opens the door with a bored expression, one that quickly turns to confusion seeing Gilbert on his doorstep. Since he didn’t plan anything out, Gilbert thrusts the flowers forward, trying his best to look composed.

“I love fucking you,” He says and immediately closes his eyes in resignation. He knew he should have planned this out but he’s mostly thankful Lovino hasn’t said anything yet. He smiles through the awkwardness and lowers the flowers.

“No wait, let me try that again.” He says and boldly reaches in to close the door between him and Lovino. His heart is pounding right up into his throat and he’s too baffled by the fact he messed up his words to even comprehend what just happened. Still he knocks on the door again with a more knowing way on what to say.

“I fucking love you,” He says properly as if it’s much better than what he said before. He holds out the flowers and Lovino just stares at him like he’s grown a second head. Gilbert’s smile, barely held together in the first place, begins to slip as does his confidence.

“Look,” He starts with a slump in his shoulders. He rubs the back of his head, taking small glances at the Italian in front of him who doesn’t take his eyes away.

“We’ve been doing this back and forth thing with each other for years alright?” Gilbert huffs, a bittersweet expression on his face. Lovino twitches in his spot now and it almost makes Gilbert feel better to know he’s at least understanding.

“I’m done, playing these maybe-maybe not games,” He shakes his hands, the flowers waving as he does so. He stops and holds them back out once more to Lovino in front of him. His heart drops the longer they aren’t taken.

“I want to be with you.” He finishes a little lamely. His eyes have been cast down a long time ago, not able to see the look on Lovino’s face. He knew the other had a hard time with emotions too and this may very well send Lovino into recluse. It had to be said though.

Gilbert is damn near shaking with the overflow of emotions that left him along with the fact Lovino hasn’t done anything yet. Carefully he raises his head to look at him when he’s pushed back by the force of Lovino jumping into his arms.

The flowers are forgotten as Gilbert is far to busy holding Lovino to him, eagerly returning the kiss given to him. He manages to take a deep breath when Lovino jerks back. It’s his turn to not look at Gilbert.

“I uhm,” He says smartly and Gilbert just hugs him tight. Everything feels just right when Lovino hugs him back, for one not caring who might see them.

“That was the worst confession I have ever heard in my life,” Lovino tells him once he’s put the flowers in a vase in the middle of the kitchen table. Gilbert snickers and takes his hands softly, now with confidence at being let inside Lovino’s life.

“But you loved it~” He teases. Lovino twists up his nose but doesn’t deny the accusation. He doesn’t deny it when Gilbert kisses his cheek either. Gilbert is over the moon happy about it all. He can wait for Lovino to say it back, he’s waited this long, and Lovino is worth it.